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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:06 -0700 |
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diff --git a/28320-h/28320-h.htm b/28320-h/28320-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..38ebdfa --- /dev/null +++ b/28320-h/28320-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10279 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>A Tramp's Wallet, by William Duthie</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: left; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: gray; + } + + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 30%; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; margin-right: 1em; } + img.floatright { float: right; margin-left: 1em; } + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Tramp's Wallet, by William Duthie + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: A Tramp's Wallet + stored by an English goldsmith during his wanderings in Germany and France + + +Author: William Duthie + + + +Release Date: March 13, 2009 [eBook #28320] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAMP'S WALLET*** +</pre> +<p>This ebook was transcribed by Les Bowler.</p> +<h1><span class="smcap">a</span><br /> +TRAMP’S WALLET;</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">stored +by</span><br /> +AN ENGLISH GOLDSMITH<br /> +<span class="smcap">during his</span><br /> +Wanderings in Germany and France.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">by</span><br /> +WILLIAM DUTHIE.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">dedicated</span>, <span class="smcap">by +permission</span>, <span class="smcap">to charles dickens</span>, +<span class="smcap">esq.</span></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON:<br /> +DARTON AND CO., 58, HOLBORN HILL.<br /> +<span class="smcap">mdccclviii</span>.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">[<i>The right of Translation is +reserved by the Author</i>.]</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">TO</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><br /> +CHARLES DICKENS, ESQ.,<br /> +This Volume<br /> +<span class="smcap">is respectfully dedicated</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">in grateful acknowledgment of his sympathy +and</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">encouragement during</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">the publication of the greater portion of its +contents</span>;<br /> +<span class="smcap">and as a slight tribute of +admiration</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">for his unwearying labours as a public +writer</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">to the advancement of the whole +people</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">by his sincere admirer</span>,</p> +<p style="text-align: right">THE AUTHOR.</p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> +<p>During a stay of three years and a half in Germany and France, +sometimes at work, sometimes tramping through the country, the +Author collected a number of facts and stray notes, which he has +endeavoured in these pages to present to the public in a readable +shape.</p> +<p>Of the twenty-eight chapters contained in the volume, sixteen +originally appeared in “Household Words.” They +are entitled <span class="smcap">The German Workman</span>; <span +class="smcap">Hamburg to Lübeck</span>; <span +class="smcap">Lübeck to Berlin</span>; <span +class="smcap">Fair-time at Leipsic</span>; <span +class="smcap">Down in a Silver Mine</span>; <span class="smcap">A +Lift in a Cart</span>; <span class="smcap">The Turks’ +Cellar</span>; <span class="smcap">A Taste of Austrian +Jails</span>; <span class="smcap">What my Landlord +Believed</span>; <span class="smcap">A Walk through a +Mountain</span>; <span class="smcap">Cause and Effect</span>; +<span class="smcap">The French Workman</span>; <span +class="smcap">Licensed to Juggle</span>; <span +class="smcap">Père Panpan</span>; <span class="smcap">Some +German Sundays</span>; and <span class="smcap">More Sundays +Abroad</span>. Several other chapters were published in a +weekly newspaper; and the remainder, together with the +Introductory Narrative, appear in print for the first time. +For the careful and valuable revision of that portion of his book +which has appeared in “Household Words,” the Author +here begs to express his sincere thanks; and to acknowledge, in +particular, his obligation to some unknown collaborator, who, to +the paper called “The French Workman,” has added some +valuable information.</p> +<p>The desire of the Author in writing the Introductory Narrative +was to present to his readers a brief outline of his whole +journey, and a summary of its results; and to connect, so far as +it was possible, the somewhat fragmentary contents of the body of +the work. It was also hoped and believed that the +statistical information there given, although of so humble a +character, would be valuable as illustrative of the social +condition of workmen in the countries to which they refer, and of +a character hitherto rarely attempted.</p> +<p>Written, as these chapters were, at intervals of time, and +separately published, each paper must be taken as complete in +itself; and, as they are separate incidents of one narrative, +occasional repetitions occur, which could scarcely have been +erased, now that they are collected together, without injuring +the sense of the passage. For that portion of the book +which has appeared in print no apology will be expected; and, +with regard to the remainder, the Author has rather endeavoured +to avoid censure than hoped to propitiate it.</p> +<p>In conclusion, the Author must add, in order that he may not +stand self-accused of misleading his readers with regard to his +personal position, that good fortune has so far favoured his own +exertions, that, although still of the craft, he can no longer +lay claim to the title of a Journeyman Goldsmith. It was +while in that capacity that the greater part of the following +pages were written: he cannot but believe that they may be of +some practical utility; and if, added to this, their perusal +should afford to his readers some portion of that pleasure which +their composition yielded to him, his purpose will have been +fully answered.</p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><p style="text-align: center">INTRODUCTORY +NARRATIVE</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Page</i></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span +class="smcap">hamburg</span>.—<span class="smcap">on tramp +to berlin</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagei">i</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">berlin and +leipsic</span>.—<span class="smcap">on tramp to +vienna</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagevii">vii</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">vienna</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagexv">xv</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">on tramp to +paris</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagexxiii">xxiii</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p><span class="smcap">paris</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagexxix">xxix</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><i>Chapter</i></p> +</td> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"> </p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">I.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">hamburg</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">II.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">altona</span>.—<span +class="smcap">a poet’s grave</span>.—<span +class="smcap">a danish harvest-home</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page6">6</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">III.</p> +</td> +<td><p>“<span +class="smcap">magnificence</span>.”—<span +class="smcap">at church</span>.—<span class="smcap">the +last headsman</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">workmen in hamburg</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">V.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">plays and +piccadilloes</span>.—“<span +class="smcap">hamlet</span>” <span class="smcap">in +german</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page19">19</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">the german workman</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">hamburg to lübeck</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page36">36</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">VIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">lübeck to berlin</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page41">41</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">IX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">berlin</span>.—<span +class="smcap">our herberge</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page51">51</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">X.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">a street in berlin</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page56">56</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">police and people</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page62">62</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">the kreutzberg</span>.—<span +class="smcap">a prussian supper and carouse</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page65">65</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">fair-time at leipsic</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">down in a silver mine</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">a lift in a cart</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page85">85</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">the turks’ cellar</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page94">94</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">a taste of austrian jails</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page99">99</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XVIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">what my landlord believed</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XIX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">an execution in vienna</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page113">113</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XX.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">a jail episode</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page116">116</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">a walk through a mountain</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">cause and effect</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page130">130</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">greece and her deliverer</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page137">137</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXIV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">the french workman</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page139">139</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXV.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">licensed to juggle</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page149">149</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXVI.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">père panpan</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page152">152</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXVII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">some german sundays</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page162">162</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p style="text-align: right">XXVIII.</p> +</td> +<td><p><span class="smcap">more sundays abroad</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page173">173</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><!-- page i--><a name="pagei"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +i</span>INTRODUCTORY NARRATIVE.</h2> +<h3>HAMBURG.—ON TRAMP TO BERLIN.</h3> +<p>There have appeared from time to time, in public print, +sorrowful recitals of journeys attempted by English workmen in +foreign countries, with no better result than the utter failure +of the resources of the adventurous traveller, and his return +homeward by the aid of private charity or the good offices of his +consul. It is precisely because the travels about to be +here narrated were financially a success, being prosecuted +throughout by means of the wages earned during their progress, +that it is thought they may be worthy of publication; not that it +is imagined many such examples may not be found, but because +success in such an undertaking has not hitherto appeared so often +before the public as failure. This narrative is necessarily +a personal one; and as it is my especial object in this place to +present these foreign rambles in a pecuniary point of view, I +trust I shall not be misunderstood in stating minute items of +receipt and expenditure, as such details, however trivial they +may appear, are of vital importance in estimating the comparative +position of the foreign and the English workman.</p> +<p>There was more than one cause which prompted me to seek my +fortune abroad; but it is sufficient here to state, that I had +worked in the company of Germans, and had thus become interested +in their country, and, as great depression prevailed at the time +among the goldsmiths in London, I provided myself with a letter +of introduction to a working jeweller in Hamburg, and prepared to +start for this outpost of the great German continent. My +whole <!-- page ii--><a name="pageii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. ii</span>capital amounted to five pounds +sterling; and, armed with a passport from the Hanseatic consul, +and provided with an extra suit of clothes, a few books, and some +creature comforts, I embarked for my destination on board the +“Glory,” a trading schooner, then lying in Shadwell +basin.</p> +<p>I paid thirty shillings for my passage, including provisions, +and could have slept in the cabin, and fared with the captain, +for two pounds, but in the weak state of my finances, considered +it only prudent to content myself with sailor’s beef and +biscuit, and a hard bulk and coil of ropes for my bed. +After, to me, a rough sea and river passage of eight days, marked +by no greater incidents than belonged to the vicissitudes of the +weather, we crossed the sand-bar at the mouth of the Elbe, and +were soon safe at our moorings in the outer harbour of +Hamburg. It was Sunday morning; paddled on shore in the +ship’s boat, I found myself in a town utterly strange to +me, armed only with a letter addressed to a person with whom I +could not converse, and written in a language I did not +understand. My chief comforts were three sovereigns, +carefully wrapped in a piece of cotton print, and deposited in my +fob.</p> +<p>In the course of a ramble through the town, I discovered an +English hotel, and was there happy in making the acquaintance of +a needle-maker of Redditch, Worcestershire, who at once offered +to be my interpreter and guide in search of employment. We +began our peregrinations on the morrow, and I was first +introduced to the only English cabinet-maker established in +Hamburg, who, however, did not receive our visit +cheerfully. He drew a rueful picture of trade generally, +but more especially of his own. The hours of labour were +long, he said; the work was hard, and the wages +contemptible. He concluded by assuring me that I had been +very ill advised to come there, and that the best course I could +pursue was to take the first ship home again. As I was not +yet inclined to follow this doleful piece of advice, we continued +our enquiries. In a short time I was shaking hands with the +jeweller to whom my letter of introduction was addressed; and +before another hour had elapsed, acting under his instructions, I +had the gratification of knowing that I was “in +work,” and, best of all, under an employer who spoke the +English, French, and German languages with equal facility. +Thus, in ten days from leaving England, eight of which were spent +on the passage, I had found both friends and employment in a +foreign city, and now that my greatest source of anxiety <!-- +page iii--><a name="pageiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +iii</span>for the future was removed, felt thoroughly independent +and at my ease.</p> +<p>My companions in the workshop were a quiet Dane who spoke +German, and a young Frenchman, whom I will call Alcibiade, who +had been in London, and acquired a smattering of English. +We worked twelve hours a day, commencing at six o’clock in +the morning—the whole city was up and busy at that +hour—and kept on till seven in the evening. Thirteen +hours were thus spent in the workshop, one of which was given to +meals. The practice of boarding the workmen is universal in +Hamburg, and we therefore fared at the table of our +“principal,” and were amply and well provided +for. During the first week of my stay in Hamburg, I lodged +at an humble English hotel, where I paid at the rate of ten marks +a week for bed and board, a sum equal to eleven shillings and +eightpence. Reasonable as this may appear, it was beyond my +resources, and would indeed have been a positive extravagance +under the circumstances. Moreover, the arrangements of the +workshop forbade it. My next lodging was at a German hotel, +where I slept in a little cupboard which hung over a black, +sluggish canal, and was without stove or fire-place. The +cost of this chamber was five marks a month, or scarcely one +shilling and sixpence a week. These expenses will appear +paltry and insignificant, till compared with the amount of wages +received, when it will be apparent that boarding and lodging in +an English hotel at eleven shillings and odd pence a week, was a +monstrous extravagance; and that even an apartment in a German +gasthaus, at five marks a month, was more than the slender +pittance received would reasonably bear. Alcibiade, who, +besides being an expert workman, was an excellent modeller and +draughtsman, received seven marks a week, with board and lodging, +or eight shillings weekly in positive cash. Peterkin the +Dane, who was yet a novice, was in the receipt of four marks a +week, and paid for his own lodging—weekly pay, four +shillings and eightpence. My own wages were seven marks a +week and board, while I paid for my own lodging; and when, upon +the departure of Alcibiade for Berlin, I took possession of his +bedroom—a mere box without a window—a deduction of +one mark was made as an equivalent. I thus received in +wages six marks; lodging may be reckoned at one, and board at +five marks a week—total, twelve marks; which will yield in +English money the magnificent sum of fourteen shillings.</p> +<p><!-- page iv--><a name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +iv</span>In order to contrast these figures more fully with the +pay of our English artisans, it will be necessary to mention some +further expenses to which the workman in England is not liable, +or in which the commercial pre-eminence of his country gives him +a marked advantage. With respect to the former, as the +employer in many cases furnishes only the ruder and less portable +machinery of the workshop, the workman has, to a certain extent, +to provide his own tools; and in regard to the latter, clothing +in general, and more especially cotton, woollen, and worsted +articles of apparel, are nearly as costly as in London.</p> +<p>Of the social position of the workmen, and the rules of the +trade Guilds, I have endeavoured to treat under the head of +“<span class="smcap">The German Workman</span>;” but +there are some matters there omitted which may be worthy of +mention. I was forcibly struck, as well in Hamburg as in +other towns and cities of Germany, by the almost total want of +that cheap serial literature which is so marked a feature of +popular education in England. There was, indeed, a penny +magazine published in Leipsic, after the type of the original +periodical of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge; +but it found no purchasers among any of my acquaintances, and was +only to be seen, with a few other literary magazines, at the +better sort of eating and coffee-houses. The workmen were +gay, and fond of amusement, but not recklessly so. They +were passionately fond of music, and formed little clubs among +themselves for the practice of choral singing. There was +shown no want of respect for the Church and its institutions, +quite the reverse; and I well remember that we were gratified +with a holiday on a day set apart by the authorities for the +public confirmation of the youths about to be apprenticed, and +the whole ceremonial of which wore an imposing and solemn +character. The conscription was, I believe, made also on +that day. With respect to the relation between employers +and employed, there existed a degree of amiability and +consideration for which we look too often in vain in England, +while it must also be confessed that every mark of respect was +rigorously exacted by the master, and that his affability towards +the workmen sometimes assumed the character of an affectionate +condescension towards a favoured menial. I did not +personally know any one married journeyman in Hamburg; but there +was one jeweller who had entered into the silken bonds of +wedlock, and who was pointed out to me with a shrug of the +shoulder and a shake of the head, as a doomed mortal.</p> +<p><!-- page v--><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +v</span>It might be imagined that as the city of Hamburg claims +the title of “free,” such assumed liberty might +extend to its social institutions; as well as to its port and +navigation. Indeed, the worthy citizens are under some such +delusion themselves, and boast of immunities, and liberalities of +government, such as would place them at the head of the German +nation. It would be hard to know in what they +consist. The passport system is enforced with all its +rigours and impertinences; an annual conscription is taken of its +inhabitants, and the more solvent of them perform military +service (this may perhaps be considered a liberty), as a national +guard, with the additional luxury of providing their own weapons +and equipments. Moreover, they were, at the time I write +of, called upon to render certain services in case of an outbreak +of fire: one contributing a bucket, another a rope, and a third a +ladder; none of which articles, as might easily be imagined, were +forthcoming when most wanted. The city tolls were heavy, +and stringently levied, and, what more nearly concerned the +exercise of public liberty and private convenience, the city +gates were nominally closed at a certain hour in the evening, +varied according to the season of the year, and were only to be +passed after the appointed period by the payment of a toll. +It was curious to see the people hurrying towards the Jacob Thor +on a Sunday evening as the hour of closing approached, jostling +and mobbing each other in their endeavours to escape the human +poll tax.</p> +<p>But men are free, or in fetters, only by comparison; and +although the rule of the senate of Hamburg, when contrasted with +British government, can scarcely be called a liberal one, there +is little doubt that identical laws are in Hamburg less +stringently carried out than in other and most parts of the great +German continent.</p> +<p>Seven months’ stay in Hamburg found me eager to commence +the march into Germany, which I had long meditated. Five +months had already elapsed since Alcibiade, my French +fellow-workman, had departed for Berlin (paying eight dollars for +the journey by post), and he had never written to inform me of +his fortunes. I was resolved to follow him, and, if +possible, to seek him out, for we were already sworn friends; but +my finances would only allow of a journey on foot. During +twenty-eight weeks of employment in Hamburg, I had received two +hundred and three marks banco in wages, which would yield, in +round numbers, twelve pounds sterling, or exactly an average +receipt of five shillings per week. Against this sum were +to be placed: expenses for tools, five shillings and <!-- page +vi--><a name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vi</span>sixpence; trade society and police, five shillings and +tenpence; clothing and washing, three pounds, one shilling and +twopence; and rent and extra board, one pound seven shillings. +Seventeen visits to theatres at prices ranging from two shillings +to sevenpence amounted to sixteen shillings and sixpence, making +a total of five pounds sixteen shillings. The surplus of six +pounds four shillings had been further reduced, by outlay in +necessities or indulgences, as the reader may assume according to +his fancy, to thirty marks banco. With this sum of +thirty-five shillings in English money, and consisting of two +Dutch ducats and five Prussian dollars, I started to tramp the +two hundred miles between Hamburg and Berlin. As a matter +of explanation it may be stated that, during a residence of seven +months in Hamburg, I had acquired enough of the German language +to trust myself alone in the country.</p> +<p>Under the impression that I might be required to set to work +in any town on my route, like any travelling tinker, I had packed +in my knapsack my best scoopers and an upright drillstock; and +these tools, while they added to its weight, presented so many +obdurate points of resistance to my back. Stowed within the +knapsack were an extra suit, two changes of linen, a few books, a +flute, and a pair of boots. It weighed twenty-eight +pounds. My remaining personal property was safely packed in +a trunk, and left in the hands of a friend, to be forwarded by +waggon as soon as my resting place should be determined.</p> +<p>I have only to deal in this place with the statistics of my +first tramp. The distance was lessened sixty miles by +taking the <i>eilwagen</i> from Wusterhausen to Berlin, and nine +days in all were spent upon the road. My total expenses, +including the dollar (three shillings) for coach fare, amounted +to eighteen shillings, or an average of two shillings +a-day. Of this sum I may particularise the cost of the +straw-litter and early cup of coffee at the outset of the +journey, twopence; at Lübeck, where I lodged respectably for +one night, the bill was two shillings; at Schönefeld, +twopence halfpenny; a lodging, and board for two nights and a day +at Schwerin in a “grand hotel,” but faring with the +servants, cost one shilling and ninepence; at Ludwigslust, a +comfortable bed after a grand supper with the carpenters at their +house of call, was charged one shilling and sevenpence; and at +Perleberg, where I lodged superbly, the cost was sixteen silver +groschens, or a fraction over one shilling and sixpence.</p> +<p>Against this I have to place the trade gift of two shillings +at <!-- page vii--><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vii</span>Lübeck, being the whole contents of their cash +box, and which was kindly forced upon me. At +Schönefeld I was urged by the masons to demand the usual +“geschenk” from the only jeweller in the +village. “Why,” exclaimed the landlord, +enthusiastically, “if you only get a penny, it will buy you +a glass of beer!” I overcame the temptation.</p> +<h3>BERLIN AND LEIPSIC.—ON TRAMP TO VIENNA.</h3> +<p>I was less fortunate in the search for work in Berlin than I +had been in Hamburg. Having started on my travels too early +in the year, I paid the penalty of my rashness. My guide +into Berlin was a glovemaker, whose acquaintance I had made upon +the road, and through whom, curiously enough, I succeeded in +discovering my Parisian friend Alcibiade, the first object of my +search. Alcibiade, eccentric, but frank and generous, +received me like a brother. There was no employment to be +obtained in Berlin, or assuredly he would have ferreted it out; +more especially as in the search he had the assistance of one of +those philological curiosities met with in Germany more often +than in any other country, a school-teacher, who seemed to have +any number of foreign languages glibly at the end of his +tongue. I stayed a week in Berlin, sleeping at the Herberge +in the Schuster Gasse, described in the body of this work; and +when forced at length to depart, Alcibiade pressed four dollars +upon me as a loan, to help me on my further wanderings. It +must be remembered that my stock was reduced to seventeen +shillings on my arrival at Berlin, and as my expenses in this +capital, during a week’s vain search for employment, +amounted to nine shillings, I was but indifferently +provided. Under these circumstances I asserted my claim to +the trade geschenk, and, having fulfilled all the conditions of a +tramp unable to find work, received from the Guild twenty silver +groschens, or two shillings.</p> +<p>Leipsic was my natural destination, and thither I proceeded by +railway, paying two dollars eight groschens for the transit in an +open carriage. This would give seven shillings in English +money. The journey occupied about twelve hours, and +although the average speed through the Prussian territory was +slow, no sooner did we come upon Saxon ground at the frontier +town of Köthen, than we spun along over the sandy waste with +a rapidity which reminded one of <!-- page viii--><a +name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. viii</span>a trip on +an English railway. It was already dark when the train +reached Leipsic, and in the drizzling rain I wandered round the +city ditch and rampart, unknowing where to find a lodging. +At length, directed by a stranger to a trade herberge in the +Kleine Kirche Hof, after some demur on account of my not +belonging to the proper craft, I was admitted to a sort of +out-house, paved with red bricks, and allowed a bed for the +night. On the morrow I presented a letter of +recommendation, from my good genius Alcibiade, to one of the +principal jewellers in the city, and felt inexpressibly happy on +being at once taken into employment. I spent two delightful +months in Leipsic. My fortnight’s ramble, with its +discomforts and anxieties, had given me a desire for rest, and in +the bustling town, (it was the Easter fair time), skirted by its +fringe of garden, and among its pleasant, good-natured +inhabitants, the time sped happily on.</p> +<p>The pay was better than in Hamburg, but the living +worse. My wages were four dollars—twelve shillings +per week—and board and lodging. I slept in the same +room with my one fellow workman and an apprentice. It was +light, and scrupulously clean, but had the single disadvantage of +being so low in the ceiling, that one could not stand upright in +it. Saxony has the unenviable distinction of being the +country the worst fed in Germany. I had no prejudice +against Saxon fare upon my arrival in Leipsic, but found, after a +fortnight’s trial, that I could not possibly endure its +unvarying boiled fresh beef, excessively insipid, with no other +accompaniment than various kinds of beans stewed into a sort of +porridge. Potato dumplings were a luxury with us.</p> +<p>I am afraid I seriously offended my worthy +“principal,” on pleading my inability to persist in +this kind of training. But he acquiesced in the desire to +board myself, and generously made the additional payment of one +dollar sixteen groschens, or five shillings per week, for the +purpose. I found no difficulty in tracing out a +“restauration,” the proprietor of which readily +undertook to furnish one principal meal per diem for seventeen +silver groschens, that is, one shilling and eightpence halfpenny +per week, paid in advance. Each dinner cost, therefore, a +fraction less than threepence. With the remainder of the +allowance it was easy to purchase a simple supper, and even some +small luxuries now and then. The dinners, although +certainly not sumptuous, were wholesome, and infinitely more +relishing than the fresh beef and beans of the <!-- page ix--><a +name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +ix</span>“principal’s” table; while there was a +relief in quitting the workshop for a while, to descend the steep +wooden staircase leading from the street into the cellar, which +formed the dining-room of the eating-house.</p> +<p>The great Easter fair had just commenced as I reached Leipsic, +and with its termination came my stay in the city also to an +end. The work was exhausted. I had luxuriated in a +few brilliants and the old Polish rose-diamonds, and had +descended to mounting a monstrous meerschaum pipe in +silver. But now there was nothing left but the turquoises +and Bohemian garnets, set in millegriffes, and the Herr shook his +head, and decided that they would not pay; so I received notice +to leave in a fortnight. During this period of six weeks, +my receipts in wages were six-and-twenty Prussian dollars, or +three pounds eighteen shillings, which would allow an average of +eleven shillings per week with board and lodging. Of +expenses incurred there were: for Guild and police, eightpence; +and clothing and washing, fourteen shillings. The +Leipsicers have an ugly trick of doubling the prices of the +theatre during the fair time, so that my expenditure on that head +was <i>nil</i>. My trunk, forwarded from Hamburg in +fourteen days, and weighing seventy pounds, cost three shillings +in the transit, including sixpence for city toll.</p> +<p>After a vain search for further employment in Leipsic, and a +disappointment of obtaining a situation in Altenburg, there +appeared nothing before me but a toilsome march through Dresden +to Vienna, with little hope of finding occupation by the way, and +scarcely more than twenty shillings in my pocket. At this +crisis there came a welcome letter from Alcibiade, with the +tidings that certain employment, for at least two months, awaited +me in Berlin. This was pleasant news indeed; and the Herr +entered so fully into the necessity of seizing this golden +opportunity, that he kindly released me from a day’s labor, +that I might have full time to make my preparations. One +would naturally suppose that a few hours would suffice to pack my +little stores and to depart; but there were the Guild regulations +to fulfil, the railway officials to be waited on, and the police +to satisfy. The last-named gentlemen would not consent to +<i>vise</i> my passport till I should produce my railway ticket, +as a proof of my intention to go; while the railway officials +doubted the propriety of issuing a ticket till I had received the +authority of the police for my departure. Here was a case +of daggers—a dead lock; but the railway was obliged to cede +the ground, and I departed in <!-- page x--><a +name="pagex"></a><span class="pagenum">p. x</span>peace. As +I was to start at six in the morning, the Herr rose earlier than +was his wont, prepared for me with his own hands a cup of hot +coffee, kissed me on both cheeks, and wished me God speed.</p> +<p>My stay in Berlin was limited to six weeks. It would +have been longer, but that Alcibiade had set his heart upon +tramping to Vienna at the end of that period; and I was pledged +to accompany him. We worked together at one of the court +jewellers. Alcibiade stood in high favour, and received in +wages thirty dollars per calendar month, or an average rate of +twenty-two shillings and sixpence a week. My own wages were +fixed at twenty-four dollars a month to begin with, or eighteen +shillings a week; but I received ten dollars for the last ten +days of my engagement, which brought me on a level with my +Parisian friend. These were, I believe, high wages. +We worked twelve hours a day. The city of Berlin had +outgrown the feudal usages of Hamburg and Leipsic, and we were no +longer lodged under the same roof with the Herr, nor humbly ate +at his table. Alcibiade had an apartment in a rambling +house with a princely staircase, but the central court of which +happened, unfortunately, to be a stable. An extra bed and +double rent enabled us to domicile together, and we paid for this +chamber, roomy and commodious (always overlooking the stable), +per month, together with morning coffee and a bullet of white +bread, two dollars eighteen groschens each. This would +give, in English money, seven shillings and tenpence, being less +than two shillings a week. Our average expenses for living +were five shillings each per week; and thus, while our whole +weekly necessities were met by the sum of seven shillings, we +were in the receipt of eighteen shillings and twenty-two +shillings and sixpence respectively. Reckoning, however, +the average wages in Berlin at sixteen shillings a week, it will +be seen that the artisan, whose necessary outlay for food and +lodging need certainly not exceed seven shillings, is at least in +as good a position as his self-vaunted brother of London upon +thirty shillings. It naturally results that the mechanics +of Berlin, unlike those of the smaller towns of Germany, +“are married and given in marriage,” although the +practice is regarded even there as indiscreet and +improvident. It is doubtless a creditable feeling which +demands of the workman that he shall have past out of his state +of servitude, and have gained the position of an employer of +labor, before he dare assume still higher responsibilities; but +the system has also great evils.</p> +<p><!-- page xi--><a name="pagexi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xi</span>During my employment of one calendar month and ten days +in Berlin, I received thirty-four dollars in wages, or five +pounds two shillings. Of expenses, to the trade Guild, were +paid tenpence; for a silk hat, four shillings and twopence; a +visit to Potsdam cost three shillings and tenpence, including +railway fare; and the fee for viewing the King’s Palace in +Berlin was tenpence. One shilling and twopence were lost in +<i>agio</i>, in exchanging my small remaining stock of Prussian +dollars into Austrian gold. I may mention, that the binding +of an 18mo. volume in boards, covered in paper, cost one +groschen, eight pfennige, or, as nearly as it can be calculated, +twopence in English money.</p> +<p>As we were upon the point of departure, there arrived in +Berlin an old friend whom we had known in Hamburg, a silversmith +of Vienna, accompanied by two other silversmiths, natives of +Lübeck, all bound to the same goal. We made common +cause at once. We started by rail for Leipsic; Alcibiade +provided with a purse of no less than eighty dollars, or twelve +pounds sterling, his savings in Berlin, while my own stock, with +all my sparing and scraping, scarcely amounted to two pounds.</p> +<p>The length of the railway between Berlin and Leipsic is +between eighty and a hundred miles. From Leipsic, where we +stayed only one night, sleeping at the herberge, and supping off +roasted pigeons, we had, in round numbers, about four hundred +miles before us.</p> +<p>Having narrated the chief incidents of this journey under +other heads, I will only mention isolated points there omitted, +and sum up its general results. Leipsic was our real +starting-point for the tramp, and our first haven the Saxon +capital Dresden. We took the road through Altenburg, thus +diverging considerably from the common route, in order to visit +the silver mines of Freiberg, and ramble through the romantic +scenery of the Plaunischen Grund. We passed through Saxon +Altenburg, Zwickau, Lichtenstein, Chemnitz, Oderan, Freiberg, +Tharant, and Wildsruf, and arrived in the evening of the fifth +day at Dresden. We had in reality no business near Zwickau, +but were seduced out of our direct route by the offer of a cheap +ride in an open waggon, and were thus led to a secluded village, +where our couch of rest was among the beer puddles on the table +of the village tap. On the morrow we found we were a +day’s march out of our road. Finding that my stock of +cash was already reduced to the half of its original bulk, that I +had indeed expended one pound, I seriously endeavoured to find +employment in Dresden; but utterly failing in that hope, I +claimed the <!-- page xii--><a name="pagexii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xii</span>“viaticum” of the Guild, +which was ten silver groschens, or one shilling. We lodged +at the herberge during our stay, and were cleanly and comfortably +housed, and at a reasonable cost. It is a fact highly +honourable to the Saxons, that the only trade herberges in +Germany which are in any way decent, are those of Leipsic and +Dresden. We rested in the Saxon capital during three days, +visiting its principal attractions, and then prepared once more +for the road.</p> +<p>There were many official regulations to observe before we +could quit the city. Alcibiade and I, who had passports, +were not called upon to show the condition of our finances, but +our three companions, possessing only wander-books, an inferior +kind of pass which marks the holder as a simple workman wholly +dependent on his labor, were called upon to exhibit a sum equal +to at least ten shillings each. Now, the collective +resources of our three companions were certainly not equal to one +pound ten shillings; but, as may be easily imagined, a little +sleight-of-hand would make any one of them appear to be possessed +of the stock of the whole. And this was done; and thus the +police were daily and hourly deceived. In addition to the +usual official routine—the testimony of the father of the +herberge to our having paid our score, the authority of the +vorsteher that we were not indebted to the Guild, and the usual +police <i>visa</i>—we had each to obtain the signature of +his own consul; that of the Saxon minister, as a testimony of his +willingness to allow us to go; and of the Austrian consul, as a +sign that the Imperial Government was not disinclined to receive +us. This done, we departed under strict injunctions to +proceed through Pirna, a town which, as it was completely out of +our route, we never took any pains to reach. How we escaped +punishment for this infraction of police directions I scarcely +know, but we heard no more of the matter. When we had +already passed through the most romantic portion of Saxon +Switzerland, and were slowly descending to the plain, we met a +poor, footsore wanderer, with a woe-begone visage, who proved to +be the dejected object of official vengeance. Four days +before, he had started from Dresden full of life and hope, but on +arriving at the frontier town of Peterswald, it was discovered +that he had neglected to obtain the signature of one of the +numerous gentlemen of whose existence he was scarcely even +cognizant, and so was driven back to Dresden to seek the required +attestation, with loss of time, loss of money, and almost +broken-hearted.</p> +<p>When we reached the Saxon frontier our little party, by the +addition of other tramps, had increased to the number of ten; and +<!-- page xiii--><a name="pagexiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xiii</span>we leaped the boundary line at word of command, and +stood on Austrian territory. We had been warned of a +rigorous search for letters and tobacco at Peterswald, and as we +had made due arrangements for the visitation, we felt somewhat +slighted at our knapsacks being passed over with little better +than contempt. We had slept upon hay the previous night, +but upon our arrival at Töplitz, which we entered in a +cabriolet, three of us inside with five knapsacks, and other two +companions hanging on behind, we boldly took up our abode at one +of the first hotels, and were, the whole five of us, crammed into +a little room on the top floor, and charged a zwanziger +(eightpence) a head for the accommodation. We looked upon +this charge as little short of a robbery. On the following +day we approached Prague, and I got a lift in a waggon, of about +ten miles, and then laid down by the city gates till my four +friends should come up. Upon presenting ourselves at the +wicket, we were challenged by the sentinel, our passes taken from +us by the military guard, and a sort of receipt given for +them. Our three companions having only wander-books, were +imperiously directed to their herberge for accommodation, while +we were permitted to consult our own tastes upon the +matter. Of course we accompanied our friends. The +herberge gained, we descended by a stone step to the common room, +a vaulted chamber half under ground, very ill lighted, and +provided only with a few rude tables and benches. We called +for beer, being weary and thirsty, (the Praguer beer is +especially good) and requested a private room for our +party. The hostess, a fat, vulgar woman, being called by +the astonished servant maid, sneered at our presumption, and said +we must content ourselves with common tramps’ +lodging. We submitted; but the Viennese, who had a visit of +some importance to pay in the city, and wished to remove some of +the stains of travel, and make himself generally presentable, +having requested some simple means of making his toilet, was, +after considerable delay, presented with water in a pint mug, and +a soiled neckcloth as a towel. This was too much for the +Austrian’s proud stomach; a storm of abuse in the richest +Viennese dialect was poured forth upon the landlady, her maid, +and the whole establishment, which being liberally responded to, +there resulted an uproar of foul language, such as was seldom +heard, even in those regions. The hostess threatened us +with the vengeance of the police, should we attempt to leave our +authorised herberge, to which we replied by tossing the beer into +the kennel, <!-- page xiv--><a name="pagexiv"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xiv</span>buckling on our knapsacks, and +stalking into the street. We soon found a decent hotel, +with the accommodation of a large room containing five beds, and +at so reasonable a price that my whole expenses of entertainment +during the two days and three nights of our stay in Prague, +amounted only to one florin and forty kreutzers (schein), or one +shilling and sixpence. We heard no more of our Bohemian +herberge and its landlady. I may mention as a further proof +of the different treatment which awaits the holder of the +workman’s wander-book, as compared with the bearer of a +passport, that on attending at the police office, Alcibiade and +myself were at once called into the bureau, and our duly +<i>viséd</i> passports handed to us with great politeness, +while our companions were left to cool their heels in a stone +paved hall, till the officials could find time to attend to +them. We soon left Prague, and were assisted on our journey +towards Brünn by a lift in a country cart, which brought us +fifty English miles forward on our road. We did not sleep +in a bed during four consecutive nights; not, indeed, till we +reached the village of Goldentraum, on the Moravian +frontier. This was not the result of any wish of our own, +but from an apparent deficiency of beds in that part of the +country. On one occasion a heap of hay was delicately +covered with a clean white cloth, lest the stubbly ends should +trouble our slumbers—a woman’s attention you may be +sure—while on another, we slept on the bare boards, with no +other pillows than our knapsacks, in a room, the air of which was +at fever heat from recent bread-baking, and where the fierce +flies made circular sweeps at our ears, and droned about our +nostrils. But we did sleep in spite of that, for we had +tramped more than thirty miles during the day.</p> +<p>From Goldentraum there were still twenty English miles to +Brünn, the capital of Moravia, and thence thirty-eight +German stunden, or about eighty English miles, to Vienna. +My funds were now reduced to about four shillings, and we had +still one hundred miles before us. One of our Lübecker +silversmiths, who had been ailing throughout the whole journey, +was unable to proceed further on foot, and we left him at +Goldenstraun to take a place in the eilwagen later in the +day. We had, however, scarcely made half our journey, when +Alcibiade and the Viennese also gave in—their feet were +fearfully blistered—and seated themselves by the road-side +to await the expected conveyance. The remaining +Lübecker, whom we had called Hannibal, and myself tramped on +to Brünn. On the morrow <!-- page xv--><a +name="pagexv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xv</span>we traced out +our three friends, but found them still so lame that they were +resolved to take the railway to Vienna at an expense of three +guldens (müntz), about six shillings each. As my own +resources were reduced to less than half that sum, and those of +Hannibal were in much the same condition, there remained to us +two only a choice of evils: either to borrow the requisite +amount, or to tramp the remaining distance on our diminished +finances. We chose the latter course. We walked the +eighty miles between Brünn and Vienna in two days and a +half, subsisting chiefly on bread and fruit—pears and +plums, which were very plentiful—and long pulls at the +pumps. We were once induced to indulge in a half seidle +(pint) of wine, which was offered at a temptingly low price, but +found it of such a muddy and sour quality, that we bitterly +repented of our bargain.</p> +<p>When within a few miles of Vienna, having been on the march +since five in the morning, we laid down on the road-side to +sleep. It was with something like grief that I felt myself +forced to abandon one pair of boots, a few miles before +Vienna. I had brought them from London, and they had done +me good service; but now, with split and ragged fronts, and +scarcely a sole, they were only a torture to my feet, and a long +way past repair. I perched them on a little hillock with +their toes pointing towards Vienna, and turned round more than +once as we advanced, to give another farewell look to such +faithful and long companions.</p> +<p>After a refreshing sleep on the road-side, we entered Vienna +early in the afternoon. Hannibal was no richer than I was, +and my whole stock consisted of six groschens, a sum equal to +threepence.</p> +<h3>VIENNA.</h3> +<p>My first notes in Vienna must undoubtedly be devoted to the +police. As Hannibal and I arrived at the guard-house of the +Tabor Linie, or barrier, we were ordered by the sentinel to halt +and hand over our papers; and, upon doing so, received a slip of +very little better than sugar paper in return, with printed +directions in German, French, and Italian, commanding our +attendance at the chief police office within twenty-four +hours. We knew better than <!-- page xvi--><a +name="pagexvi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xvi</span>to +disobey. On the following morning we presented ourselves +and handed in our tickets, when mine was returned to me with the +words: “Three days’ residence,” written on the +back.</p> +<p>“And should I not obtain employment in three +days?” I inquired. “Then you must leave +Vienna.”</p> +<p>Hannibal was permitted greater licence, being a native of one +of the states of the Bund; but both he and his fellow-townsmen of +Lübeck were taken into fictitious employment, in order to +obtain the necessary residence-card. Alcibiade, as a +Frenchman, and, moreover, as being still possessed of a certain +amount of hard cash, was also more leniently dealt with. +Not having found work on the fourth day I waited again upon the +police, and was at first peremptorily ordered to depart; but, +upon explaining that I had friends in the city, a further stay of +fourteen days was promised, on the production of a written +recommendation. On the following day, through the +friendship of our Viennese companion of the road, I found work at +a small shop-keeper’s in the suburb of Maria-hilf. +Mark the routine. From my new employer I received a written +attestation of my engagement; with this I waited upon the police +commissioner of the district for his signature, and thence to the +magistrate of the suburb to obtain the authority of his name to +the act. This done, I was in a position to face the head +police authorities in the city, and they, to my astonishment, +doled out a six weeks’ permission of residence only, and +charged me a gulden, two shillings, for the document. I +pleaded my position as a workman, but was answered that my +passport was that of a merchant. This was disproved by +every entry on its broad sheet, more especially by a written +description by the magistrate of Perleberg, Prussia. All +remonstrances were, however, in vain: while unemployed they had +dealt with me as a workman without resources; now that I was +under engagement, they taxed me like a proprietor. +Alcibiade at once furnished the means of meeting this new +difficulty, as, indeed, of every other connected with our +finances at this period, and we consoled ourselves with the +assurance that one of us at least was in employment. Our +disgust was only equalled by our despondency when, upon reaching +home, we were met with the news that my new Herr refused to +complete his engagement, having met with an old workman whom he +preferred to a stranger. By law he was bound to furnish me +with a fortnight’s work, and I threatened him with an +enforcement of my claim; but I knew I <!-- page xvii--><a +name="pagexvii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xvii</span>should +come off the worse in the struggle, and submitted to the +injustice.</p> +<p>In the meantime two of our silversmiths were under fictitious +engagements—a common occurrence, and almost excusable under +the circumstances—and were dining upon credit. The +times were bad. I did not really commence work till the +fourth week, and Alcibiade a week later. But, these first +difficulties overcome, our condition improved daily; and for +myself I can say with gratitude, that nowhere in Germany was I +more happy than in Vienna. Our position was this: Alcibiade +was engaged as a diamond jeweller at a weekly sum of six guldens, +or twelve shillings, a little more than half the sum he had +earned in Berlin; but no doubt, had he remained longer in the +Austrian capital, he would have increased his rate of pay. +Unfortunately, after three months’ stay there came word +from Paris requiring his presence by a certain day at the +military court of the department of Seine et Oise, to which, +being a native of Argenteuil, he belonged, to draw for the +conscription. Alcibiade was too good a Frenchman to +hesitate about obeying this summons, or even to murmur at the +sacrifice it demanded of him. He left Vienna with regret, +but with the utmost alacrity; and thus I lost for a time my best +companion and sincerest friend. My first essay as a workman +in Vienna was discouraging, for I undertook, in my extremity, to +execute work to which I was unaccustomed, and made such +indifferent progress at the outset, that the Herr, a Russian from +St. Petersburg, would only pay me five guldens, or ten shillings +a week. We worked twelve hours a day, commencing at six +o’clock in the morning in summer time; but there were a +number of fête and saint days in the year, which were paid +for—I think eight in all—including St. Leopold, the +patron saint of Vienna; the birth of the Virgin; <i>Corpus +Christi Die</i>, and other church holidays. As I improved +in the practice of my new branch of business, I gained additions +to my wages, till I received nine gulden, eighteen shillings, a +week; a sum certainly much above the average pay.</p> +<p>Alcibiade and I lodged in a narrow slip of a room, the last of +a suite of three, on the first floor of a house, or rather +conglomerate of houses, in the Neudegger Gasse, +Josephstadt. Our landlord was a worthy Bohemian +cabinet-maker; his wife, a Viennese, who kept everything in the +neatest order. I do not know how many families lived in +this house; but it was a huge parallelogram with a paved +courtyard, in the centre of which stood a wooden pump. +There was <!-- page xviii--><a name="pagexviii"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xviii</span>a common stair in each corner, all +of stone, and a common closet at the bottom of each staircase, +equally of stone, seat and all, and very common indeed. +Each lodging consisted of three continuous rooms, with only one +entrance from the common stair: first was the kitchen, with +cooking apparatus, and the oven, which warmed the whole suite; +then a larger room with two windows, at once workshop, +dining-room, and bed-room; and beyond this the narrow closet with +one window, which was our dormitory. Thus we had to pass +through our landlord’s bed-room to get to our own. +The other portions of the building were arranged much in the same +manner, and the house must have had, in all, at least a hundred +inhabitants. There are much larger houses in the suburbs of +Vienna, but they are all built upon the same principle, with +trifling modifications. Here are two cards of address, +which are models of exactness in their way, and will illustrate +the nature of these barracks in the best possible manner:</p> +<blockquote><p style="text-align: center">“<span +class="smcap">Joseph Uberlachner</span>,<br /> +Master Tailor,</p> +<p>Lives in the Wieden, in the Lumpertsgasse, next to the +Suspension bridge, No. 831, the left hand staircase on the second +floor, door No. 31.”</p> +<p style="text-align: center">“<span class="smcap">Martin +Spies</span>,<br /> +Men’s Tailor,</p> +<p>Lives in Neubau, Stückgosse, No 149, in the courtyard, +the right hand staircase, on the second floor, door on the left +hand.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The entrance to our house from the street was small and +unimportant, and, as may naturally be supposed, always +open. The law was, however, strict upon this subject, and +permitted the house to be open in summer from five in the morning +till ten o’clock at night only; in winter from seven till +nine. There was a little room opening from the passage, +where dwelt the porter of the mansion. It was his duty to +close the door at the appointed hours; a duty which he +scrupulously fulfilled, seeing that the law empowered him to levy +a fine of six kreutzers for his own especial benefit, upon every +inhabitant or stranger seeking egress or ingress after the +authorised hour of closing. The Viennese insist upon it +that this impost is recoverable by law; but, as the +porter’s whole existence depends upon the employment of his +labour in and about the house, and therefore upon the good-will +of its inhabitants, he takes care in general not to be too +pressing for his toll.</p> +<p><!-- page xix--><a name="pagexix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xix</span>Our dormitory, diminutive as it appeared, still managed +to contain two single bedsteads (French), a wash-hand-stand, +wardrobe, used in common by landlord and lodgers, a table, and +two chairs. We paid in rent twelve florins a month, or +barely ten shillings between us; add to this, for washing, +candles, and morning coffee (a tiny cup at six in the morning, +before starting to work), another four florins, and our united +expenses for these necessaries did not exceed thirteen shillings +per month. As in Berlin, we dined at a +“restauration,” or at the “Fress +Madam’s” (Mrs. Gobble’s), a jocose term for a +private eating-house, well known to the jewellers. The +mid-day meal of the Viennese workman is remarkable for strength +and solidity, but also for its sameness. It always takes +the shape of fresh boiled beef and vegetables, the latter +arranged in a thick porridge of meal and fat. It commences, +of course, with soup; is followed by the “rind-fleisch and +gemuse,” as above; and, if you can afford it, is concluded +by some such sweet dish as flour puddings stewed with prunes, a +common sort of cake called zwieback, omelette, macaroni, or a +lighter kind of cake, baked and eaten with jam. All solid, +wholesome, and of the best. There is a choice of other more +relishing dishes, and of these we usually partook, with an +occasional descent into the regions of beef and greens. +Vienna prides itself upon its baked chickens and Danube carps, +but these were beyond our reach on ordinary occasions; and our +usual delectation was upon Augsburger sausages; bacon and sour +kraut; breaded veal cutlets; ditto lamb’s head; and roasted +liver and onions. When we drank the ordinary white wine, we +did so much diluted. To sup at the +“restauration” would have entailed too great an +expense; we therefore contented ourselves with bread and a taste +of butter at home, moistened by a glass of a liquor resembling +gin, seeing that it was made of the juniper berry, which our +landlord obtained for us at about tenpence a quart. It was +supposed to be smuggled from Hungary, and Vater Böhm +coloured and sweetened it with molasses, and called it +Schlipowitzer.</p> +<p>Our weekly outlay for food during the first month of residence +in Vienna, especially while unemployed, did not exceed five +florins, <i>i.e.</i> four shillings each. We ate bread and +fruit in large quantities; indeed, during one day my +“rations” consisted of: breakfast at eight, half of a +coarse loaf and thirty plums; at twelve, one dozen pears and the +other half of the loaf; at seven a whole loaf, and forty more +plums. Cost of the whole, nine kreutzers (schein), or <!-- +page xx--><a name="pagexx"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xx</span>scarcely three halfpence in English money. It was +not surprising that I should fall ill upon this diet, and this I +accordingly did. When, however, we were in constant work, +we lived as I have already described, and at an average expense +of seven florins—five shillings and tenpence each +weekly—and thus the individual outlay for lodging, food, +and other necessaries, was, in round numbers, seven shillings and +sixpence a week. A dinner on New Year’s Day, of baked +pork and fried potatoes, with bread, wine, and apple puffs, cost +ninepence.</p> +<p>To return to the police. When my six weeks’ +permission of residence was expired, I attended again at the +chief office in the Stadt, with the certificate of my employer, +signed and countersigned by police-commissioner and magistrate, +and was granted thereon a further term of three months at the +same fee, two shillings; to me at that time a day’s +wages. Subsequently, however, the “Herr,” by +means of a further attestation, with vouchers from the landlord +of the house, and the usual official signatures, obtained for me +a card of residence for six months, gratis, and I experienced no +more trouble on that head. This, and the various other +certificates, were upon stamped paper of the value of six +kreutzers, or one penny. While upon this subject I may +observe, that domestic servants must make known to the police +every change of service. They are hired by the month. +Change of residence is also a matter of official interference: a +printed sheet is handed to the new lodger, with spaces for name, +age, country, religion, condition, married or single, where last +resided, and probable length of stay in new apartments. All +these particulars must be stated and signed, witnessed by your +own particular landlord, and attested by the landlord of the +house. The document is then deposited in the archives of +the district police.</p> +<p>At the termination of my first year’s stay in Germany, I +found that my receipts in wages, during the twelve months, +amounted to twenty-one pounds six shillings and fourpence, an +average of eight shillings and twopence-halfpenny per week; but +it must be remembered that, during nine months of that period, +board and lodging formed part of my remuneration. I stayed +a full year in Vienna, and received in wages, in all, three +hundred and sixty-two guldens, thirty kreutzers, or thirty-six +pounds five shillings. This would give, in round numbers, +fourteen shillings per week throughout the year. Of this +sum, as I have said, seven shillings and sixpence were on an +average spent weekly in lodging and necessary <!-- page xxi--><a +name="pagexxi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxi</span>food; there +therefore remained six shillings and sixpence for clothes, +amusements, and savings.</p> +<p>When the period arrived at which I had determined upon +starting on foot for Paris, my savings amounted to seven pounds +sterling, and with that sum I thought myself amply provided for +the journey. In order that it may not be supposed that I +had suffered undue privations, or enforced, in financial +arrangements, anything beyond a reasonable economy, I must state, +that in addition to paying to the Guild and police, during the +year, eight florins twelve kreutzers, or six shillings and +tenpence, I had witnessed twenty-three theatrical +representations, at prices varying from fourpence to a shilling, +at a total cost of eleven shillings and fourpence; been present +at eighteen concerts, at an outlay of seven shillings and +eightpence; and had visited the Brühl, Wöslau, +Mödlin, Laxenburg, Helena-Thal, Klosterneuburg, Grinzing, +and Weinhaus; the Treasure Chamber, and picture-galleries +innumerable; which latter, although supposed to be open to public +inspection free of expense, were not conveniently accessible +without a fee. Twenty-five kreutzers, or fourpence, was the +price of a seat in the gallery of the suburban theatres of the +Leopold, Joseph, and Wiener vorstädte; while tenpence and a +shilling procured a similar place in the imperial opera and +play-house. Hot sausages and beer were the luxuries vended +in the former; while ices, coffee, and delicate pastry, were the +<i>bonnes bouches</i> prepared for the latter.</p> +<p>I found the workmen in Vienna industrious and submissive; gay, +thoughtless, and kind-hearted. In some trades it was still +the practice for the workmen, if not numerous, to sleep in the +workshop. I knew a cabinet-maker who did so, and he was +very cleanly and well lodged. I knew one or two married +journeymen, and there were no doubt very many in so large a +capital as Vienna, but marriage among artisans was generally +condemned. The wages were on the average much less than I +have stated; I knew silversmiths who were earning only three and +four florins a week—six shillings and eight shillings; and +I have no doubt that tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, and others, +were paid even less. I visited one family circle in the +Leopoldstadt which consisted of the man, his wife and child, and +three single men lodgers, who all lived and slept in one +room. I found the lodgers airing themselves in the +court-yard, while the beds were made and the room set in +order. But I saw very little of squalor or filth even in +the poorest quarters. <!-- page xxii--><a +name="pagexxii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxii</span>As a +check upon the assumed thoughtlessness of the Viennese artisans, +the pawnbrokers are by civil ordinance closed a week before and +after every great holiday, such as Easter, Whitsuntide, etc.</p> +<p>There were very many small masters, known in England as +master-men, who worked at home, and by their skill and quickness +earned superior wages. My own landlord was one of them, and +called himself a “Gallanterie Tischler.” He was +chiefly employed in ornamental woodwork for the silversmiths, +and, being tasty and expert, earned a very respectable +living. He used to buy English knives for certain parts of +his work, on account of the superiority of the steel, but he +complained bitterly of their clumsy and awkward fashion. He +was extremely industrious during the week, and many a pleasant +Sunday visit have we paid to Weinhaus and other suburban +villages, when the “heueriger”—the young, +half-made wine—was to be tasted. Heueriger was sold +at a few pence a quart, and is a whitish liquid of an acid but +not unpleasant flavour. It is a treacherous drink, like +most white wines, and from its apparently innocent character +tempts many into unexpected inebriation. The Viennese +delight in an Italian sausage called “Salami,” said +to be made of asses’ flesh, and a pale, but highly scented +cheese, as the proper accompaniments to the heueriger.</p> +<p>Domestic servants in Vienna have one very laborious duty to +perform, and that is the fetching of water from the +springs. These springs are simply pumps in appearance, and +were so formerly, but the flow of water is now continuous, and to +be obtained without effort. It is painful to see the poor +girls bending under the weight of their water troughs, which are +carried on the back, and shaped something like a pannier with a +flat side. They are made of wood, hooped like a barrel, and +have a close-fitting lid. The Bohemian women perform duties +even more unsuitable. They are bricklayers labourers; and +sift sand, mix mortar, and carry slates on their heads to the +highest houses. In these labours they are sometimes +assisted, or set aside, by the soldiery, the more well-behaved of +whom are allowed to hire themselves as labourers and +porters. In one case, as I know, a soldier was “put +in possession,” as his Imperial Majesty’s +representative, and provided daily with a sum of money as an +equivalent for food.</p> +<p>There is another class of labourers who make themselves +particularly conspicuous in the streets of Vienna, and that is +the “holzhacker,” or wood-chopper. Wood is the +universal fuel, and <!-- page xxiii--><a +name="pagexxiii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxiii</span>is sold +in klafters, or stacks of six cubic feet. A klafter +consists of logs, each about three feet long, and apparently the +split quarters of young trees of a uniform size. This wood, +when delivered to the purchaser, is shot upon the footpath in +front of the house, or in the court-yard, if there be a porte +cochêre, which is not usual. The business of the +holzhacker is to chop the logs into small pieces for the +convenience of burning, and this he does in an incredibly short +space of time, but to the great inconvenience and sometimes +personal risk of the passers by. He is, however, very +independent in his way, and is treated with astonishing +forbearance by the police. He is, moreover, the street wit +of Vienna.</p> +<p>The Viennese workmen are not merely uninformed of, but in +general, perfectly indifferent to political matters. This +ignorance may in a great measure result from the unthinking and +pleasure-seeking character of the Viennese public—which +levity is encouraged by the Government, as taverns and concert +rooms are open long after private houses are closed—but is +also to be traced to the uneasy position which the citizens hold +with respect to the police. It is not alone that the +restrictions and impediments of official routine render his +social existence a matter of public legislation, but there is an +unpleasant consciousness that his landlord, his neighbour on the +same flat, his barber, or his fellow workman, may be a +“vertrauter,” a spy in the pay of the police, and his +simplest actions, through their means, perverted into +misdemeanours. A worthy cooper, with whom I occasionally +dined, on reading a skeleton report of a public meeting in +England, where working men had made speeches and moved +resolutions, exclaimed, as he threw down the paper: “But, +seriously, don’t you think this very ridiculous?”</p> +<h3>ON TRAMP TO PARIS.</h3> +<p>We were three in number, a jeweller from Copenhagen, a +Viennese silversmith, and myself, who started from Vienna to walk +to Paris. We were all in tolerable feather as to +funds. I was possessed of about seventy guldens (seven +pounds), and a little packet of fifty dozens of piercing-saws, a +trading speculation, which I hoped to smuggle over the French +frontier in my boots. I was better provided <!-- page +xxiv--><a name="pagexxiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xxiv</span>in all respects than on any of my former +journeys. We had forwarded our boxes to Strassburg, our +knapsacks were light, and we wore stout walking shoes with +scarcely any heels, and had prepared some well-boiled linen +wrappers, intended, when smeared with tallow, to serve the +purpose of socks. They effectually prevent blisters, and +can be readily washed in any running stream. Our first +stage was by steam on the Danube to Linz, the capital of Upper +Austria; and we took our departure from Nussdorf amid the +valedictions and kisses of some thirty male friends, each of whom +saluted us thrice—on each cheek, and on the lips, for this +is the true German fashion, and may not be slighted or +avoided.</p> +<p>A voyage on the water may seem a curious commencement of a +foot journey; but the fact is, that no one knows better than the +tramp that a railway or a steamboat is always cheaper than +shoe-leather and time; and no doubt as these new means of +progress increase in number they will entirely change the +character of German trade-wanderings. From Vienna to Linz +is, in round numbers, a distance of one hundred and fifty English +miles, and this one vessel, the “Karl,” got over in +two days and a night. The wind was against us, and it must +be remembered that it is all up stream. The Danube is upon +the whole a melancholy river, of a sullen encroaching character, +for its whole course is marked by over-floodings and their +consequent desolation. The passage cost ten florins, +twenty-five kreutzers, or eight shillings and fourpence, and we +slept on the table below, on deck, or not at all, as we best +could.</p> +<p>Our real starting-point on tramp was Linz, whence we pursued +our way through Wells, Gmunden, Ebensee, and Ishl to Salzburg, in +which beautiful city we rested for a day and half. We +steamed across lake Traun from Gmunden, and paid a fare of +twenty-five kreutzers, or fourpence. From Salzburg we +pushed on to Hallein, to visit the salt mines there, and thence +diverged still further from the beaten route for the sake of +seeing the water-fall of Golling—the stern terrors of the +Œfen—and dream away an hour upon the beautiful and +romantic waters of Königsee, the King’s Lake. We +had crossed the frontier of Bavaria near Hallein, and, having +loitered so long among the delightful scenery of its +neighbourhood, we now hurried on towards Munich, through +Reichenhall, Fraunstein, Weisham, Rosenheim, Aibling, and +Peiss. Thirsty and weary, we overtook a timber waggon when +within eight miles of the capital, and made a bargain with the +driver to carry us forward to our <!-- page xxv--><a +name="pagexxv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxv</span>destination +for six kreutzers, about one penny, each; and upon the unhewn +timber of the springless log-waggon we rode into Munich. We +had been already fourteen days upon the road, ten of which had +been spent on tramp, advancing at an average rate of twenty-five +miles a day. From Linz to Munich, by the circuitous route +we had taken, I reckon in round numbers at two hundred and fifty +miles. My share of the expenses amounted to thirty-six +florins, forty kreutzers, say one pound nine shillings in English +money, or an average outlay of two shillings a day. It may +be added, that many of our expenses were those of ordinary +foot-tourists, rather than of tramping workmen; that we had lived +well although frugally; and that, save in a goatherd’s hut +on the Schaf-berg, we had never slept out of bed.</p> +<p>We spent five happy days in Munich: wandering among +picture-galleries and museums; visiting the royal palace in the +capital, and the pleasure retreat at Nymphenburg; and the +churches, with their painted windows, beautiful architecture, and +radiant frescoes. We visited two theatres, and roamed in +the English garden, and among the wilder scenery of hills in the +environs. Munich is the real capital of modern art, and +contains more magnificent public buildings than any city of the +same extent in the world. Vulgar figures again: my expenses +in Munich amounted to eight guldens, forty kreutzers, Bavarian or +Reich’s money, which will yield, as nearly as the +intricacies of German coinage will allow of the calculation, +fifteen shillings and fourpence. The fare by railway from +Munich to Augsburg, our next station, was one gulden, twenty-four +kreutzers,—two shillings and fourpence,—and from the +latter fine old city we proceeded entirely on foot to +Strassburg. We took the road through Ulm, Stutgard, +Heilbron, Heidelberg, Manheim, Carlsruhe, Baden-Baden, and Keil; +wandering a little from the beaten path near Kissengan to see the +beautiful waterworks and garden there. These cities have +all been described by innumerable travellers, and I doubt whether +I could add anything to the knowledge already possessed of +them.</p> +<p>We had passed fifteen days upon the road, and traversed a +distance, roughly estimated, of two hundred and fifty +miles. We rested in all four days in the towns of Augsburg, +Ulm, Heidelberg, (of glorious recollection), and Carlsruhe; and +thus, during the ten days of actual tramp, we had advanced at an +average rate of twenty-five miles a day. Since leaving +Vienna, we had walked five hundred miles. <!-- page +xxvi--><a name="pagexxvi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xxvi</span>On one occasion only did we march more than thirty +miles in the day. This was between Stutgard and +Heilbron. As we limped wearily through the latter city, we +came upon a tavern at the sign of the Eagle, and inquiring, like +cautious travellers, the price of a bed, we found it was twelve +kreutzers Reich’s money, fourpence. This was beyond +our mark, so we tottered onward to the Stag, where we were very +indifferently lodged for half the money. At Heidelberg we +paid twelve kreutzers for our bed, and were well accommodated; +but this was more by four kreutzers than we considered ourselves +in a position to pay. Our average expenses per day, while +on tramp at this period, were twenty-four kreutzers, or +eightpence. My total outlay from Munich to Strassburg was +twenty-one florins, ten kreutzers, or one pound five shillings; +being at the rate of one shilling and sixpence a day.</p> +<p>It may be right to mention, that a German mile is divided into +two stunden, or hours, and the natural inference would be, that +it would occupy two hours to walk a mile. This is not the +case, for a stunden can generally be traversed in three quarters +of an hour; but the German miles are not uniform, and I well +remember one terribly long one between Brünn and Vienna, +which was more than two hours walk. As three English miles +an hour is an average walking pace, a German mile, occupying on +the average an hour and a half in the traverse, should be equal +to four and a half English miles, and this is the rate at which I +have estimated it, although I have seen it variously stated at +less than four, and even at five English miles.</p> +<p>While on tramp, we rose at five in the morning, and walked +till eight fasting, when we took breakfast—a simple affair +of milk, or of coffee and plain bread, with occasionally a little +meat as a luxury—we then proceeded on our march till +twelve, always supposing that a town or village was at such a +distance as to render the arrangement possible, when we +dined. This meal consisted invariably of soup—milk +soup, if possible, peppered and salted like broth—and +sometimes meat, but not always, as it was dear, and supposed to +be heavy for walking. As by this time the sun was in its +zenith, and our advance in the great heat would be most +fatiguing, and even dangerous, we laid ourselves down to rest +till three, in the open air if possible, and weather permitting; +out on the fields among the corn; stretched upon the hay in some +shady nook; or, as in Bavaria and Wurtemberg during a great part +of the route, under the apple <!-- page xxvii--><a +name="pagexxvii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxvii</span>and +plum trees which lined the public way, eating of the fruit +unquestioned and without restraint. After this welcome +repose we pursued our march with renewed animation till eight +o’clock, when we sought out a place of rest; and for our +evening meal usually indulged in something more substantial than +at any other time of the day. Our beds were not always +clean, and the lavatorial necessaries either deficient or wholly +wanting, in which latter case the pump was our only +substitute.</p> +<p>Our brief stays in towns or cities were by no means the least +fatiguing part of our journey; for it naturally happened that in +our anxiety to see whatever was remarkable or beautiful, in +museum, picture-gallery, or public building, that our time was +tasked even more severely than on the road; always remembering +also, that the police required a great deal of attention. +My passport has fourteen distinct <i>visas</i> during this +journey. We found the police in Bavaria the least civil +among a very exacting class of people. Here, for the first +time, I heard a mode of address which is, I think, peculiar to +Germany. It is customary to address strangers in the third +person plural, <i>Se</i>; or, when on very familiar or +affectionate terms, in the second person singular, <i>Du</i>; but +of all modes of speech the third person singular, <i>Er</i>, when +applied to the person addressed, is the most opprobrious. A +police official thus interrogates a wandering workman:—</p> +<p>“What is he?” “A currier.”</p> +<p>“Where from?” “Siegesdorf.”</p> +<p>“Where to?” “Ulm.”</p> +<p>“Has he got the itch?” “No.”</p> +<p>“Then let him sign this book.”</p> +<p>At Augsburg the police were in a dilemma with respect to +us. We had come by rail from Munich, and, to our surprise, +were suffered to pass through the gate unchallenged by the +sentinel, who paced leisurely before the guard-house. The +following morning, on presenting our papers at the police-bureau, +we were met with the accusation of having smuggled ourselves into +the city; and, as the usual official routine had been departed +from, we were ordered to proceed at once to the gates, and humbly +deliver up our passports to the sentinel in due form, that the +requirements of the law might be fulfilled. This sage +proposition was, however, overruled in consideration of our being +jewellers: the respectability of the craft being thus +acknowledged. It was in Augsburg also that I narrowly <!-- +page xxviii--><a name="pagexxviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xxviii</span>escaped being entered in the books of the Guild as +“Mr. Great Britain, native of London;” the slim +apprentice whose duty it was to make the entry, having mistaken +the name of the country for that of the individual in my English +passport.</p> +<p>I may not omit to mention, although I do it with a feeling of +humiliation, that during our journey we availed ourselves of +whatever assistance was granted by the Guild to “wandering +boys” unable to obtain employment. We had a perfect +right to this aid, and had, while in work, always contributed to +the fund (in which we had, indeed, no option); but I must confess +that there was something exceedingly like asking for alms in the +whole process of obtaining it. Our slender resources must +plead as an excuse. The following were our individual +receipts: in Linz, twenty-four kreutzers; in Munich, thirty-six; +Augsburg, eighteen; Ulm, fifteen; Stutgard, thirty; Heilbron, +twenty-four; Heidelberg, nine, (begged from shop to shop, there +being no general cash-box); and Carlsruhe, twenty-four; making a +total of one hundred and eighty kreutzers, or the munificent sum +of two shillings and sixpence in English money. What must +be the fate of those whose dependence was upon such a +pittance!</p> +<p>I had passed two whole years and a few days in Germany, and +during a period of eighty-eight weeks, had been fully at +work. I had received fifty-six pounds thirteen shillings in +wages, or an average, throughout the whole term, of eleven +shillings per week. I felt grateful for this result in a +strange country, and left Germany with a lingering step.</p> +<p>As we crossed over the bridge of Kiel on our way to +Strassburg, the French soldiery were quietly fishing on their +side of the Rhine, and the sentinel, from whom we had expected a +harsh summons to the guard-house, and a rigorous search into our +knapsacks, eyed us with a look of half pity, half contempt, and +allowed us to pass unchallenged. We were, to him, only so +many miserable “square-heads” (Germans) on our way to +Paris. The curiosities of Strassburg need not detain me: +the cathedral, and the wonderful clock; the theatre, which we +visited; the fortifications, which we overlooked from the lofty +spire; those things are set down in every traveller’s +guidebook, and the recollection of them is probably much more +agreeable to me than their description would be to the +reader. We had resolved not to tramp through France, and we +therefore sought places in the diligence; and by the time I had +paid forty-three <!-- page xxix--><a name="pagexxix"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xxix</span>francs for my seat in that +respectable vehicle, and ten francs for the carriage of my box +from Vienna to Strassburg, together with two francs for a +passeport provisoire; and by the time also that I had paid some +two francs more for extra luggage, including two loaves and a +string of six Strassburger sausages, which were all included in +the weight, I found that I should arrive in Paris with less than +five francs in my pocket. And this I accordingly did, after +a very uncomfortable ride of fifty-two hours, and within a day of +six weeks from our departure from Vienna.</p> +<h3>PARIS.</h3> +<p>We thought ourselves very ill-used on our first night in +Paris, when, having been wiled into a grand hotel near the +Bourse, we were stowed away on the fifth floor, three in a room, +and charged six francs for our beds, one more for a candle, and +one for service. Our parsimonious Dane was so highly +irritated, that he took possession of the candle and carried it +off in his pocket. But Alcibiade was soon by our side, to +give us help and advice with his old kindness; and under his +guidance we removed immediately to more suitable lodgings, and +were set in the proper course to obtain employment. +Although scarcely possessed of a single franc in actual cash, I +had fifty dozens of fine piercing-saws, my contraband +speculation, and for which I ultimately obtained about twenty +francs. What was of more importance, in less than a week +from our arrival in Paris I commenced work at the modest +remuneration of four francs and a half, three shillings and +ninepence, a day. My two companions were scarcely so +fortunate, but lingered on for a week or two without +employment.</p> +<p>I found myself in a motley company; at one time our +atélier contained three Russians, two Germans, two +Englishmen, an Italian, and a Frenchman; and sometimes a simple +inquiry would have to pass through four languages before it +received its answer. I did not remain long amid this babel, +although long enough to be offered six francs a day to +remain. I never afterwards worked for a less rate of +remuneration than six francs a day, but never succeeded in +obtaining a sous more. I had many “Patrons” in +Paris. In one establishment there were three workmen +continually employed <!-- page xxx--><a name="pagexxx"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. xxx</span>in making crosses of honour, in gold +and silver, to reward the merit, or to purchase the affection and +support, of the French people. I was variously employed: in +gold work; in setting small rose-diamonds; and upon the most +costly brilliant ornaments. Sometimes idling upon three +days a week, or totally unemployed; at other times slaving night +and day, Sunday and all, to complete some urgent order. I +have worked nineteen days in a fortnight.</p> +<p>I have endeavoured to give some details with regard to the +manner of living, working, and lodging, among the labouring +population of Paris, under the head of “<span +class="smcap">The French Workman</span>;” and which details +were in most part personal, or such as I had learned from actual +experience. My business here is with results, and I will +condense them into as few words as possible. I stayed in +all one year and five months in Paris, during the whole of which +period I was never out of a situation, although at various times +but scantily provided with employment. I received in wages +a total of two thousand three hundred and one francs, thirteen +sous, or ninety-two pounds two shillings and +twopence-halfpenny. This would give an average receipt, +upon the seventy-one weeks of my stay, of one pound three +shillings and three-halfpence a week. I have said that +during the greater part of this time I earned at the rate of six +francs, or five shillings a day; if I now give the current +expenses per week, a comparison may from these data be drawn as +to the comparative position of the English and French +workman. The usual outlay for food per week amounted to +twelve francs, or ten shillings, of course with fluctuations; for +I have lived a whole week upon five francs when unemployed, and +have luxuriated upon twenty when in full work. Upon +striking a balance among my various lodgings,—I lodged in +company and slept double during the whole period of my stay in +Paris—I find the result to be, that we paid twelve francs +each per month, or two shillings and sixpence per week. +This did not include extras: a German stove hired at five francs +a month for the winter season; wood at four francs the hundred +pounds weight; candles at thirteen sous the pound, and soap at a +fraction less. Nor does it include the half franc to the +concierge, an obligatory payment upon presenting yourself at the +street-door after midnight. Summing up these items, we +arrive at this result: for food, ten shillings; rent, two +shillings and sixpence; and miscellaneous necessaries, including +twelve sous for washing, of another two <!-- page xxxi--><a +name="pagexxxi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. xxxi</span>shillings +and sixpence; or a total of fifteen shillings of expenditure +against, in my case, of one pound three shillings and odd pence +of income. The cost of pleasure in the French capital must +not be omitted; and I feel bound to state that twenty-seven +visits to the theatres, from the pit of the Italian Opera House +at four francs, to the same place at the Vaudeville for eighteen +sous; and thirteen public balls and concerts, from the grand +masked ball to that of the “Grande Chaumière,” +were met by an outlay of sixty-eight francs thirteen sous, or +three pounds seven shillings and tenpence-halfpenny.</p> +<p>After an absence of nearly three years and a half, I turned my +steps towards home. From the time that I had crossed the +French frontier, and, upon delivering my papers, had received a +passeport provisoire at Strassburg, I had never sustained cheque +or molestation from the police; but now that I was about to +depart, and made the usual application for my original passport, +it was discovered that, as a workman, I should have had a +“livret” upon my first entering Paris, and a number +of certificates and attestations were required, in order to +reinstate me in a legitimate position in the eyes of the +law. Escaped from this dilemma, and officially recognised +as <i>ouvrier</i>, it was with some surprise that I found myself +dubbed gentleman at the Bureau des Affaires Etrangéres, +and charged a fee of ten franca for the signature of the foreign +minister. Too old a traveller to be entrapped into the +payment of so heavy a fine upon my vanity, I strongly repudiated +any more pretentious title than that of simple workman; and after +a tough struggle succeeded in carrying off the necessary visa at +an outlay of two francs. The journey, by diligence, from +Paris to Boulogne, cost twenty-seven francs; I lost a clear six +francs in changing my French savings into English +gold—twelve sovereigns—and, after a rough passage by +the Boulogne boat to London, at an expense of twelve francs, +found myself once more in my native city.</p> +<p>Let those who would estimate the value of such an enterprise +as mine, consider its cost and its result. I had passed +several years in foreign travel; I had undeniably profited in the +acquisition of new experiences in my trade; new modes of working, +and additional manual skill. I had rubbed off some of the +most valued, and therefore most absurd, prejudices against +foreigners; and made some progress in the acquisition of two +languages—a gain which must ever be a source of mental +profit and gratification. To conclude: I had <!-- page +xxxii--><a name="pagexxxii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +xxxii</span>started on my journey but indifferently clad, and +with scarcely five pounds in my pocket, of which sum two pounds +had been remitted home; and I had been able not merely to subsist +by the labor of my hands, but to enjoy much that was costly, and +an infinite deal more that was pleasurable and advantageous; and +to return home, having liquidated every debt, save that of +gratitude, well provided with apparel, and with ten pounds +sterling in my purse.</p> +<p>I would not venture to urge upon any man to follow in my +footsteps. I should scarcely retrace them myself under the +same conditions; but I believe I have shown the practicability of +such an undertaking, and its probability of success, with no more +unusual qualifications than a ready hand, a patient will, and +some perseverance.</p> +<h2><!-- page 1--><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +1</span>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">hamburg</span>.</p> +<p>Hamburg at last!—after eight days’ sail from +London, three of them spent in knocking about the North Sea, +where the wind always blows in your teeth. Never mind! we +are now safely moored to these substantial timbers; huge piles, +driven in a line, which form the outer harbour of Hamburg. +The city lies before us, but there is nothing very imposing in +it; the houses, with gable roofs and whitened walls, look rather +lath-and-plastery, in fact; but we must not express our opinions +too rashly, for first impressions are not always the most +faithful after all.</p> +<p>“Now, Tom, is the boat ready?”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, sir!”</p> +<p>We scramble down the sides of the British schooner, the +“Glory,” and seat ourselves along with Tom. +What a confusion of boats, long-pointed barges, and small sailing +vessels!</p> +<p>“Mind how you go, Tom.”</p> +<p>“Ay, ay, sir!” replies Tom, contemptuously +shifting his quid.</p> +<p>These small sailing vessels we see are from the Hanoverian and +Danish coasts. Their cargoes consist principally of wood, +and whole stacks of vegetables, the latter ridiculously +small. Those long-pointed barges are for canal navigation, +and are admirably adapted to Hamburg, threaded as it is by canals +in every direction.</p> +<p>Steady! Do you see that curious, turret-looking +building, old and time-worn, guarded by a sentinel?—it is +the fort to protect the water-gate through which we are now +passing. It is also <!-- page 2--><a name="page2"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 2</span>occasionally used as a prison. +On the opposite side is a poor, dilapidated, wooden building, +erected on a barge, where permits are obtained for spirits and +tobacco—a diminutive custom-house indeed. There being +no one to question or molest us, we pass on, and in a few moments +are at our landing-place, a short flight of stone steps leading +to the Vorsetzen or quay.</p> +<p>Tom moors his boat with a grave celerity, leads the way up the +stone steps on to the quay, and as speedily disappears down a +sort of trap which gapes in the open street, in the immediate +vicinity of the landing-place. Let him alone; Tom knows the +way. We follow him down an almost perpendicular flight of +stairs into a spirit kellar, and gratify Tom’s little +propensity for ardent liquors.</p> +<p>Tom has disappeared, and is now paddling his way back to the +“Glory,” and we stand upon the humble water-terrace, +the Vorsetzen, looking out upon the shipping. It is a +still, bright, Sunday afternoon in September. There is no +broiling sun to weary us; the sky is clear, and the air soft and +cheering, like the breath of a spring morning. We will turn +our backs upon the river and proceed up Neuerweg.</p> +<p>We cannot walk upon the narrow strip of footpath, for, besides +that there is very little of it, our course would become a sort +of serpentine as we wound about the fresh young trees which skirt +the edge of it at regular intervals. But are they not +pleasant to look upon, those leafy sentinels, standing by the +stone steps of the houses, shaking their green tops in happy +contrast to the whitened walls? So we will walk in the +road, and being good-tempered today, will not indulge in violent +invectives upon the round-topped little pebbles which form the +pavement; but, should we by chance step into a puddle which has +no manner of means of running out of our way, we will look with +complacency at our dirtied boots, and trip smilingly on. +Yes, trip is the word, for I defy the solemnest pedestrian in +Christendom to keep a measured pace upon these upright, pointed, +shining-faced pebbles.</p> +<p>There! we are in the Schaar-markt. Now look around, and +say, would you not fancy yourself in some quaint old English +village? What a curious complication of cross-beams is +presented in the fronts of the houses!—a barring and +binding of huge timbers, with their angles filled in with red +bricks. How simple and neat is everything!—the clean +stone steps leading up to the principal entrance of each house, +and the humbler flight which conducts you to the <i>kellar</i> +<!-- page 3--><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +3</span>and kitchen. You would imagine you had seen the +place before, or dreamt of it, or read of it in some glorious old +book when your memory was fresh and young.</p> +<p>See that young damsel with bare arms, no bonnet, no cap, but +her hair cleanly and neatly parted in the middle of her head, and +disclosing her round, rosy, honest German face. She is not +pretty, but how innocent and good-tempered she looks; and see how +lightly and easily she springs over those, to us, ruthless +pebbles, her short petticoats showing her clean white stockings +and bright shoes to advantage.</p> +<p>And here comes a male native of the place; a shortish, +square-built, and somewhat portly man, clad in a comfortable, +old-fashioned way, with nothing dashing or expensive about +him. He is not very brisk, to be sure; and when you first +look at his round face an idea of his simplicity comes over you; +but it is only for an instant, and then you read the solid, +sterling qualities quietly shining in his clear eyes. There +is not a great amount of intellectuality, that is to say nervous +intellectuality, in his contented countenance, but a vast +quantity of unstudied common sense.</p> +<p>We will pass on, leaving the guard-house on our left; and +winding up Hohleweg, many simple and not a few pretty faces with +roguish eyes do we see at the open windows.</p> +<p>We halt only for a moment to look at the noble Michaelis +Kirche which lies to our right, and turn off on the left hand, +crossing an open space of some extent called Zeughaus Platz, and +behold us before the Altonaer Thor, or Altona-gate.</p> +<p>Ah, these are pleasant banks and noble trees! How green +the grass upon those slopes—how fresh the flowers! +And what a splendid walk is this, looking to the right down the +double avenue of sturdy stems waving their spreading tops across +the path! You did not think that quaint old town below +could boast of such a border as this; but take a tour about the +environs, and you will find them cheerful, fresh, and beautiful, +from Neuer Kaye to Deich Thor.</p> +<p>We will pass through the simple Altona-gate, and make towards +Hamburger-Berg. Do not be alarmed. Perhaps you have +heard of the “Berg” before, and virtuous people have +told you that it is a godless place. Well, so it is; but we +will steer clear of its godlessness; we will avoid the +dancing-houses. Before us lies a broad open road, neither +dignified by buildings nor ornamented by trees, <!-- page 4--><a +name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>but there are +plenty of people, and they are worth our notice. There is a +neat figure in a close boddice and a hauben, or hood-like +headdress; she has taken to winter attire early. She +carries no trailing skirts, nor has she ill-shapen ankles to +hide. Look at her healthy face, though the cheek-bones are +rather too high; but the mouth is ever breaking into a +smile. Her hair is drawn back tightly from her face, tied +in a knot at the back, and covered with a velvet skull-cap, +richly worked with gold and silver wire and braid. The +effect is not bad.</p> +<p>There is a country girl from Bardewick—Bardewick, you +know, though now a mere village, is traditionally said to have +been once a large and flourishing city. She has flowers to +sell, and stands by the wayside. She has neither shoes nor +stockings, nor is her dark dress and white apron of the +longest. Her tightly fitting boddice is of blue cloth, with +bullet buttons, and has but a short waist, while a coral confines +her apron and dress. Her head-dress is only a striped +coloured handkerchief, tied under the chin, but in such a way +that it presents a sort of straight festoon just above her +sparkling eyes, and completely hides her hair.</p> +<p>But here comes a curiosity of the male species. Surely +this is Rip van Winkle from the States. He has no +sugar-loaf hat, but he wears the trunkhose, stockings, and large +buckled shoes of the old Dutchman, and even his ample jacket, +with an enormous sort of frill at the bottom. No, my +friend, let me give you to understand that this is a +<i>Vierländer</i>, and a farmer of some means. Do you +not see that he has a double row of bullet buttons on his jacket, +down the front of his ample hose, and even along the edges of his +enormous pockets? They are solid silver, every button of +them, nor are the massive buckles on his shoes of any more gross +material. Here come more velvet skull-caps, with gold and +silver worked into them. How jauntily the wearers trip +along! It is a fact, the abominable pavement of Hamburg +sets the inhabitants eternally on their toes.</p> +<p>Here is a Tyroler, and a tall fellow he is; straight as an +arrow, and nimble as a chamois; but yet with a steady, earnest +look about him, although a secret smile is playing round his +handsome, mustachioed mouth, that tells you of a strong and +persevering character. He is shaped like an Adonis, and his +short jacket, breeches, pale striped stockings, and tightly laced +boots; the broad leathern embroidered band about his waist, and +the steeple-crowned hat with the little coquettish feather, all +help to make up a figure that you <!-- page 5--><a +name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 5</span>would like to +see among his native mountains. And yet he is but a +dignified sort of pedlar, and would be very happy to sell you a +dozen or so of table napkins, Alpine handkerchiefs, or a few +pieces of tape.</p> +<p>Well! he is gone, and before us comes a female figure, who +forms a fit companion to the silver-buttoned +<i>Vierländer</i> we have just past. Notice her dress; +she is a <i>Vierländerin</i>. Her petticoats are +shamefully short, you will say, stiff and plaited too as they +are, but what a gallant pair of red stockings she wears, and what +a neat, bright pair of buckled shoes! Her dress consists of +a close boddice with long sleeves, all of dark purple stuff, and +her neat black apron does not make a bad contrast to it. +But her head-gear!—her hair is drawn from her face under a +closely fitting caul, while an exaggerated black bow, or rather a +pair of triangular wings, project some distance from the back of +the head, and beneath them two enormous tails of hair trail down +her back, each terminating in a huge red bow.</p> +<p>This country girl appears to have sold all her fruit, and has +placed her basket upside down upon her head. No such thing; +that is her peculiar head-dress; look again, and you will see +that it is a small plaited straw basket, about a foot and a half +in diameter, with a very deep straight edge. It is fastened +on her head by a caul sewn into the inside. Well! at any +rate this is a Quakeress we see coming at such a stately pace +along the gravelled road? Wrong again, my friend; this is a +young lady from Heligoland, the little island we passed at the +mouth of the Elbe, and a very prim and neat young lady she is, +though where she got her bonnet shape from I cannot say.</p> +<p>The way is lined with hawkers of every description: fruit, +songs and sausages; toys, sticks and cigars; pipes, sweetmeats +and tape; every imaginable article that was ever sold at a fair +is to be found here, and every vender in a different dress, +illustrating at one view the peasant costumes of every village in +the vicinity. As for tobacco, the air is like a gust from +some gigantic pipe. Here is the entrance to +Franconi’s Circus, though not yet open for public +entertainment. Blasts of obstreperous music rush upon you +from every door; the shrill squealing of a flageolet being heard +above everything else.</p> +<p>Knife-swallowers, mesmerisers, and the eternal +Punch—here called Caspar—ballad-singers, tumblers, +quacks, and incredible <!-- page 6--><a name="page6"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 6</span>animals, are here for +inspection. You would fancy it was some old English fair; +for in spite of yourself there is a quaint feeling steals over +you, that you had suddenly tumbled back into the middle of the +last century.</p> +<p>And who pays for all this? for whose especial amusement is all +this got up? For our old friend “Jack.” +Here are English sailors, and French sailors; sailors in green +velveteen jackets; sailors with their beards and whiskers curled +into little shining ringlets. We meet our salt-water friend +everywhere, and, by the intense delight depicted on his features, +“Jack” is evidently in a high state of enjoyment.</p> +<p>Let us go on; we have promised not to visit the dancehouses +to-day, and we will quit this clamorous crowd.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.<br /> +ALTONA.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">the poet’s +grave</span>.—<span class="smcap">a danish harvest +home</span>.</p> +<p>We tread upon elevated ground, and far away to our left, down +in a hollow, flows the broad Elbe; placid indeed from this +distance, for not a ripple can we see upon its surface. A +few ships are lazily moving on its waters. Stand aside, and +make way for this reverend gentleman; he is a <i>prediger</i>, a +preacher of the gospel; he is habited in a black gown, black silk +stockings and shoes, a small black velvet skull-cap on his head, +while round his neck bristles a double plaited frill, white as a +curd, and stiff as block tin. You would take him for the +Dutch nobleman in an old panel painting. It may appear +rather grotesque to your unaccustomed eyes, but remember there +are many things very ridiculous at home.</p> +<p>A blackened gate, a confused mass of houses, an open square, +and the pebbles again, and we are in Holstein, Denmark, in the +public square and market place of Altona. Here it is that +the Danish state lotteries are drawn, and we might moralise upon +that subject, but that we prefer to press onwards to the real +village of Altona.</p> +<p><!-- page 7--><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +7</span>Here through this beautiful avenue of trees; here where +the sunshine is broken into patches by the waving foliage; far +away from the din of trumpets, huxterers and showmen; here can +the sweet air whisper its low song of peace and lull our fervid +imaginations into tranquillity. This is no solitude, though +all is quiet and in repose. Under the trees and in the road +are throngs of loiterers, but there is no rude laughter, no +coarse jests; a moving crowd is there, but a quiet and happy +one. And now we come upon the venerable church with its low +steeple, its time-eaten stone walls, and its humble, grassy, +flower-spangled graves. We see a passer-by calling the +attention of his friend to a stone tablet, green and worn with +age, and surrounded by a slight railing. Can it be that +there is a spirit hovering over that grave whose influence is +peace and love? May not some mighty man lie buried there, +the once frail tenement of a great mind whose noble thoughts have +years ago wakened a besotted world to truths and aspirations +hitherto unknown? There is veneration and respect in every +countenance that gazes upon that simple stone; a solemn tread in +every foot that trenches on its limits. This is the grave +of a great poet. A man whose works, though little read in +modern times, were once the wonder of his country; and whose very +name comes upon the German people in a gush of melody, and a halo +of bright thoughts. It is like an old legend breathed +through the chords of a harp. This is the grave of +Klopstock, the Milton of Germany. We will enter the +churchyard, and look for a moment on the unimposing tablet. +The inscription is scarcely legible, but the poet’s mother +lies also buried here, and some others of his family. Could +there be anything more humble, more unobtrusive? No; but +there is something about the grave of a great poet that serves to +dignify the simplest monument, and shed a lustre round the lowest +mound.</p> +<p>We will cross the churchyard to yonder low brick wall which +confines it. There are clusters of rosy, happy children, +clambering about its crumbling top; little knots of men too in +the road beyond—evidently expecting something. Even +this is in keeping with the poet’s grave, which should not +be sombre and melancholy, like other graves; and what could +better embellish and enliven its aspect than young, blushing life +clustering around it? We linger awhile among the boisterous +children playing on the churchyard wall, and then we hear a +confused sound of voices and music in the distance.</p> +<p><!-- page 8--><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span>“What is this we hear, my friend?” we +inquire.</p> +<p>“It is the harvest-home; if you wait you will see the +procession.”</p> +<p>We turn out upon the high road, and soon come upon the first +signs of this Danish festival. An open gravelled space of +some extent stretches out before an imposing mansion of modern +appearance; a plantation of trees on each side shapes the space +into a rude semicircle. This mansion is the manor house, +and in front, in the midst of a confused crowd, some dozen young +men in gay sylvan costumes are standing in a circle, armed with +flails, and vigorously threshing the ground. Jolly, hearty +young fellows they are, and a merry chant they raise. One +eager thresher in his zeal breaks his flail at the bend, and a +shout from the bystanders greets the exploit.</p> +<p>Now they thresh their way from the great house to a hostelry +where the remaining portion of the pageant is awaiting their +arrival. Let us stand a little on one side and view the +procession. The threshers lead the way, singing and plying +their flails as they advance, thus effectually clearing the road +for the rest. A merry group of other threshers, each with +his lass upon his arm, and his flail swung across his shoulder, +come tripping after, singing the harvest song and dancing to +their own music. Now a rude wooden car comes lumbering on, +and within sits a grave man in old German costume, who from a +large sack before him takes handsful of grain, and liberally +casts it about him. This is the sower, but the grain is in +this instance only chaff. Now follow heavy instruments of +husbandry—ploughs and harrows—while rakes, scythes, +and reaping-hooks form a picturesque trophy behind them. A +shout of laughter greets the next figure in the procession, for +it is no other than the jolly god Bacchus. And a hearty, +rubicund, big-bellied god he is, and very decent, too, being +decorously clad in a brown suit turned up with red, and cut in +the fashion of the time of Maximilian I., or thereabouts. A +perpetual smile mantles over his broad face, and complacently he +pats his huge rotundity of stomach as he rolls from side to side +on the barrel astride which he is seated. Is he drunk, or +does he only feign? If it be a piece of acting it is +decidedly the most natural we ever saw.</p> +<p>Next comes the miller; a lank rascal, with a white frock, a +tall, white tasselled nightcap, and a cadaverous, +flour-besprinkled face; and he is the reaper, too, it would seem +by the scythe he bears in his hand: other threshers close the +procession. A happy train it is. God speed them +all! A merry time, and many a bounteous harvest!</p> +<p><!-- page 9--><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +9</span>Let us turn now upon our steps. Once more before +the antique church, the reverenced grave; and with a soothed and +grateful mind, we will bend our way back to Hamburg, and diving +into one of the odorous cellars on the Jungfern Stieg, will +delectate ourselves with beefsteaks and fried potatoes, our glass +of Baierisches Bier, and perhaps a tiny schnapschen to settle our +repast.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span +class="smcap">magnificence</span>.—<span class="smcap">at +church</span>.—<span class="smcap">the last +headsman</span>.</p> +<p>“Herrlichkeit!” Magnificence! What a +name! Ye Paradise-rows, ye Mount-pleasants, what is your +pride of appellation to this? In all Belgravia there is not +a terrace, place, or square that can match it. Fancy the +question, “Where do you reside?”</p> +<p>“In Magnificence—number forty.”</p> +<p>Yet it is a fact, Magnificence is a street in Hamburg. I +have lived in Magnificence.</p> +<p>The Herrlichkeit, like many other places of imposing title, +loses considerably upon a close acquaintance. You approach +it from the waterside through a rugged way, blessed with the +euphonious appellation of Stuben Huck; and having climbed over +two pebbly bridges—looking down as you do so at the busy +scene in the docks below, where crowds of canal craft lie packed +and jumbled together—you turn a little to the left hand and +behold—Magnificence!</p> +<p>Magnificence has no footpath, but it is not singular in that +respect. It is of rather less than the average width of the +streets in Hamburg—and they are all narrow—and the +houses are lofty. It is paved with small pebbles, and has a +gutter running down the centre; and as a short flight of stone +steps forms the approach to the chief entrance of each house, the +available roadway is small indeed. But they are grand +houses in Magnificence, at least they have been, and still bear +visible signs of their former character.</p> +<p>Let us enter one house; it will serve as a type of many houses +in Hamburg. Having mounted the stone steps, we stand before +a half-glazed folding-door, and seeing a small brass lever before +us, <!-- page 10--><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +10</span>we test its power, and find the door yield to the +pressure. But we have set a clamorous bell ringing, like +that of a suburban huxter, for this is the Hamburger’s +substitute for a knocker. We enter a large stone-paved +hall, lighted from the back, where a glazed balcony overlooks the +teeming canal. You wish to wipe your shoes. Well! do +you see this pattern of a small area-railing cut in wood? +That is our scraper and door-mat—all in one.</p> +<p>To our right is a massive oaken staircase. We ascend in +gloom, for the staircase being built in the middle of the house, +only a few straggling rays of light can reach it, and whence they +proceed is a mystery. Every few steps we mount we are upon +the point of stumbling into the door of some cupboard or +apartment; they are in all sorts of places. At length we +reach a broad landing paved with stone. What a complication +of doors and passages, which the vague light tends to make more +obscure! Here are huge presses, lumbering oaken cabinets, +jammed into corners. We ascend a second flight and arrive +at another extensive landing. Here are two suites of +apartments, besides odd little cribs in the corners which are not +occupied by other presses. There are still two floors +above, but as they are both contained in the huge gable roof of +the house, they are more useful as store-rooms than as habitable +apartments. The quantity of wood we see about us is +frightful when associated with the idea of fire.</p> +<p>We will enter the suite on the right hand; the apartments are +light and agreeable, and overlook the canal, and, when the tide +is up, and the canal full, and the grassy bleaching ground on the +opposite bank is dotted with white linen, it is a pleasant scene +indeed; but when the tide is out—ugh! the River Thames at +low water is a paradise to it. The tidal changes are +carefully watched, and it is not an unusual occurrence to hear +the solemn gun booming through the air as a warning to the +inhabitants to block and barricade their cellars and kitchens +against the rush of waters.</p> +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p>It is Sunday morning, and the most beautiful melody of bells I +ever heard is toning through the air. They are the bells of +S. Michael’s church, and I am told that the musician plays +them by a set of pedal keys, and works himself into a mighty heat +and flurry in the operation. But we cannot think of the +wild manner and mad motions of the player in connection with +those beautiful sounds, so clear and melodious; that half +plaintive music so sweetly measured. <!-- page 11--><a +name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>They ring +thus every morning, commencing at a quarter to six, and play till +the hour strikes.</p> +<p>We descend, and make our way through irregular streets and +dingy canals till we reach the church of St. Jacobi. It +stands in an open space, is neither railed in, nor has it a +graveyard attached to it. It is of stone, and has an +immense gable roof, slated, and studded with eaved windows. +A shortish square basement is at one end, from which springs a +tall octangular steeple. Within all is quiet and +decorous. The church is paved with stone, and there is a +double row of pews down the centre. But is this a +Protestant Church? Most assuredly; Lutheran. You are +astonished at the crosses, the images, the altar? True! +there is something Romish in the whole arrangement, but it is +Protestant for all that. You cannot help feeling vexed at +the pertinacity with which the Germans whitewash everything, nor +do the pale lavender-coloured curtains of the pulpit appear in +keeping with the edifice. Everything is scrupulously +clean.</p> +<p>We are too late to hear the congregational singing, the +devotional union of voices, for as we enter the minister ascends +into the pulpit in his black velvet skull-cap, and bristling +white frill. Unless you are a good German scholar you will +fail to understand the discourse so earnestly, so emphatically +delivered. The echo of the building, and the high character +of the composition, will baffle and mislead you; while, at the +same time, the incessant tingling of the little silver bells +suspended from the corners of scarlet velvet bags, which are +handed along the pews (at the end of a stick), during the whole +of the sermon, will distract and irritate you. It is thus +they collect alms for the poor. Yet even to one ignorant of +the language, there is a fullness and vigour in the style and +manner of delivery that would almost persuade you that you had +understood, and felt convinced of the truth of what you had +heard. As we quit the church we purchase at the door a +printed copy of the sermon from a poor widow woman, who is there +to sell them at a penny each.</p> +<p>We will loiter home to dinner. The streets are thronged +with people, with cheerful, contented faces, and in holiday +attire. Who are these grave gentlemen? This little +troop in sable trappings; buskins, cloaks, silken hose, hats and +feathers, and shoes with large rosettes—all black and +sombre, like so many middle aged Hamlets? Can they be +masqueraders on the Sabbath? Possibly some of the senators +in their official costume? No! Oh, human +vanity! A <!-- page 12--><a name="page12"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 12</span>passer-by informs us that they are +only undertakers’ men—paid mourners. They are +to swell the funeral procession, and are the mere mimics of +woe. The undertakers of Hamburg vie with each other in the +dressing of their men, and indeed, one indispensable part of +their “stock-in-trade” are some half-dozen +dress-suits of black, it matters not of what age or country, the +stranger the better, so that the “effect” be +good.</p> +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p>We will take a stroll about the beautiful Alster this Sunday +afternoon. It is late autumn, and the early budding trees +have already shed their leaves. But rich, floating masses +of foliage are still there—the deepening hues of autumn, +and here and there broad patches of bright summer green. +There are two Alsters, the “inner” and +“outer,” each of them a broad expanse of water; they +are connected by flood-gates, surrounded by verdure, and studded +with pleasure-boats; while on the city side several elegant +pavilions hang on the water’s edge, where coffee and +beverages of every kind can be obtained, and the seldom omitted +and never-to-be-forgotten music of the Germans may be heard +thrilling in the evening air.</p> +<p>It is already growing dusk; let us enter the <i>Alster +Halle</i>. This is the most important of these +pavilions. It is not large; there is but the +ground-floor. It has much the appearance of a French +<i>café</i>, the whole space being filled with small, +round, white marble tables, and innumerable chairs. Here +all the lighter articles of refreshment are to be obtained; tea, +coffee, wines, spirits and pastry in numberless shapes. +There is an inner room where the more quietly disposed can read +his newspaper in comparative silence; here are German, Danish, +French, and English journals, and a little sprinkling of literary +periodicals. Another room is set apart for billiards, where +silent, absorbed individuals may be seen playing eternally at +poule. In the evening a little band of skilled musicians, +in the pay of the proprietor, perform choice morsels of beautiful +music, and all this can be enjoyed for the price of a cup of +coffee—twopence!</p> +<h3>THE LAST HEADSMAN.</h3> +<p>Ten years ago the ancient city of Hamburg was awakened into +terror by the commission of a fearful murder. The cry of +“Fire!” arose in the night; the +<i>nachtwächter</i> (watchman) gave the alarm; <!-- page +13--><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 13</span>and +the few means at command were resorted to with an energy and +goodwill that sufficed soon to extinguish the flames. It +was, however, discovered that the fire had not done the work it +had been kindled for; it would not hide murder. Among the +smouldering embers in the <i>kellar</i> or underground kitchen, +where the fire had originated, was discovered the charred body of +a poor old woman, whose recent wounds were too certain evidences +of a violent death. It was also ascertained that a petty +robbery of some few dollars had been committed, and the utmost +vigilance was called into exercise to discover the +perpetrator.</p> +<p>All surmises were in vain, till suspicion fell upon the +watchman who had first given the alarm; and the first evidence of +the track of guilt being thus fallen upon, it was not difficult +to trace it to its source. Numerous little scraps of +evidence came out, one upon another, till the whole diabolical +plot was stripped of its mystery, and the guilt of the +<i>wächter</i> clearly proved. He was convicted of the +crime imputed to him, and condemned to death by the Senate. +But on receiving sentence, the condemned man assumed a tone +totally unexpected of him, for he boldly asserted that the +punishment of death had fallen into disuse; that it was no longer +the law of Hamburg; and concluded by defying the Senators to +carry the sentence pronounced into execution.</p> +<p>It was indeed true that the ponderous weapon of the headsman +had lain for two-and-twenty years rusting in its scabbard; nor +without reason. At that period a criminal stood convicted +and condemned to death. The law gave little mercy in those +days, and there was no hesitation in carrying the sentence into +effect. But an unexpected difficulty arose; the old +headsman was but lately dead, and his son, a fine stalwart young +man, was, from inexperience, considered unequal to the +task. A crowd of eager competitors proffered their services +in this emergency, but the ancient city of Hamburg, like some +other ancient cities, was hampered with antiquated usages. +Its profits and other advantages were tied up into little knots +of monopoly, in various shapes of privileges and hereditary +rights. The young headsman claimed his office on the latter +ground; to the surprise of all, his mother, the wife of the old +headsman, not merely supported him in his claim, but persisted, +with a spirit that might have become a Roman matron but certainly +no one else, that if her son were incapable, she herself was +responsible for the performance of her husband’s duty, and +would <!-- page 14--><a name="page14"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 14</span>execute it. The Senate was in +consternation, for this assertion of hereditary right was +unanswerable; and while they courteously declined the offer of +the chivalrous mother, they felt constrained to accept the +services of her son.</p> +<p>The fatal morning came; the scaffold stood erected; and +pressing closely around the wooden barriers, stood the anxious +crowd awaiting the execution. The culprit knelt with head +erect, his neck and shoulders bared for the stroke, while the +young headsman stood by his side armed with the double-handed +sword, the weapon of his office. At a sign given, he swung +the tremendous blade in the air, and aimed a fearful blow at the +neck of the condemned; but his skilless hand sloped the broad +blade as it fell, and it struck deeply into the victim’s +breast. Amid a cry of terror he raised his sword again; +again it whirled through the air, and again it failed to do its +deadly work. The miserable wretch still lived; and a third +stroke was necessary to complete the task so dreadfully +began. Who can wonder that that fearful weapon had for +years long rested from its service?</p> +<p>Influenced by this terrible scene, and, let us hope, as well +by motives of humanity as by the conviction of the utter +uselessness of such a spectacle as a moral lesson, the Senate of +Hamburg had commuted the punishment of death into that of a life +imprisonment. Yet now they were taunted with their +unreadiness to shed blood, and dared to carry the law, as it +still stood upon the statute-book, into effect. For a while +it seemed that anger would govern the acts of the Senate, for +every preparation was made for the execution. The headsman, +whose blundering essay has been above related, was still living, +but he had long filled the humble office of a messenger, and made +no claim to repeat his effort. Among the many competitors +who offered their services, a Dane was finally selected, and the +inhabitants of Hamburg, excited to the utmost degree by the +anticipation of the forthcoming spectacle, awaited the event with +a morbid and gloating curiosity. They were, however, +disappointed; humanity prevailed, and the guilty +<i>wächter</i> was conducted to a life prison.</p> +<p>The Senate of Hamburg has not formally abolished the +punishment of death; but the last <i>hereditary</i> headsman is +now growing an old man, and the first and only stroke of his +weapon was dealt thirty-two years ago.</p> +<h2><!-- page 15--><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +15</span>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">workmen in +hamburg</span>.</p> +<p>Here amid the implements of labor, in the dingy +<i>werkstube</i> in Johannis Strasse; lighted by the single +flicker of an oil lamp, with the workboard for a writing-desk, +let me endeavour to collect some few scattered details about the +German workmen in Hamburg.</p> +<p>German workmen! do not the very words recall to your memory +old amber-coloured engravings of sturdy men, with waving locks, +grasping the arm of the printing-press, by the side of Faust, +Schœffer, and Gottenberg? Or, perhaps, the words of +Schiller’s “Song of the Bell” may not be +unknown to you, and hum in your ears:</p> +<p class="poetry">Frisch, gesellen, seyd zur hand!<br /> + Von der stirne heiss,<br /> + Rinnen muss der schweiss.</p> +<p class="poetry">Briskly, comrades to your work!<br /> + From the flushing brow<br /> + Must the sweatdrops flow.</p> +<p>But your modern German workman is somewhat of a different +stamp; he points his moustaches with black wax, trims his locks +<i>à la Française</i>, and wears wide +pantaloons. He tapers his waist with a leathern strap, and +wears a blouse while at his labors. He discards old forms +and regulations as far as he can or dare, and thus the old word +“Meister” has fallen into disrepute, and the titles +“Herr” and “Principal” occupy its +place. Schiller, like a true poet, calls his workmen +“gesellen,” which is the old German word meaning +companion or comrade, but modern politeness has changed it into +“gehülfe,” assistant; and +“mitglied,” member. In some places, however, +the words “knecht” and “knappe,” servant +or attendant, are still in use to signify journeyman; as +“schusterknecht,” shoemaker; +“schlächterknecht,” butcher’s man; +“muhlknappe,” miller; “bergknappe,” +miner; <!-- page 16--><a name="page16"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 16</span>but these terms are employed more +from habit than from any invidious distinction.</p> +<p>Well! we live and work on the fourth floor of a narrow slip of +a house in Johannis Strasse. Herr Sorgenpfennig, our +“principal,” occupies the suite of four rooms, and +devotes a central one (to which no light can possibly come save +at second hand through the door), to his +“gesellen.” We are three; a quiet Dane, full of +sage precepts, and practical illustrations of economy; a +roystering Bavarian from Nuremberg, who never fails to grieve +over the thin beer of Hamburg, and who, as member of a choral +union near Das Johanneum, delights in vigorous and unexpected +bursts of song; and myself.</p> +<p>Workmen in Hamburg are still in a state of villanage; beneath +the roof of the “Herr” do they find at once a +workshop, a dormitory, and a home. We endeavour so far to +conform to the rules of propriety as to escape the imprisonment +and other penalties that await the “unruly +journeyman.” The table of Herr Sorgenpfennig is our +own, and a very liberal one it is esteemed to be. Let me +sketch you a few of its items: delicious coffee, “white +bread and brown,” or rather black, and unlimited butter, +make up our breakfast. Dinner always commences with a soup, +usually made from meat, sometimes from herbs, lemon, sweet fruit, +or other ingredients utterly indescribable. Meat, to be fit +for a German table, must be carefully pared of every vestige of +fat; if boiled it is underdone, unless expressly devoted to the +soup, when the juiceless shreds that remain are served up with +plums or prepared vegetables; if it be baked (roasting is almost +unknown) it is dry and tasteless. Bacon and sausages, with +their inevitable accompaniment, sourkraut, is a favourite dish; +but not so unvaryingly so as some choose to imagine. Acids +generally are much admired in German cookery. In nothing, +perhaps, are the Hamburgers more to be envied, in a gastronomic +view, than in their vegetables. Singularly small as are +these products of the kitchen garden, they are sweeter and more +delicately flavoured than any I ever tasted elsewhere. As +<i>entremets</i>, and as accompaniments to meat, they are largely +consumed. The Hamburgers laugh at the English cooks who +boil green peas and potatoes in plain water, for here boiled +potatoes are scarcely known—that nutritious vegetable being +cut into slices and fried; while green peas are slowly stewed in +butter or cream, and sweetened with fine sugar. But we +“gesellen” have plebeian appetites, and whatever dish +may <!-- page 17--><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>be set before us, as surely vanishes to its latest +shred. The little patches of puff-paste, smeared with +preserve, sent to us as Sunday treat, or the curious production +in imitation of our English pie, and filled with maccaroni, are +immolated at once without misgiving or remorse. If we sup +at all, it is upon pasty, German cheese, full of holes, as if it +had been made in water, or a hot liver sausage, as an +extraordinary indulgence.</p> +<p>And our “Licht Braten?” Herr Sorgenpfennig +rubs his short, fat hands, and his round eyes twinkle again, as +he tells his little cluster of “Herren Gesellen” that +there will be a feast, a sumptuous <i>abendbrod</i>, to +inaugurate the commencement of candle-light. The +“Licht Braten,” as this entertainment is called, is +one of the old customs of Hamburg now falling into disuse. +It would be doing Herr Sorgenpfennig an eternal injustice did we +pass over it in silence, more especially as he boasts of it as +real “North German fare.” Here we have it: raw +herrings to begin with. Bah! I confess this does not sound +well upon the first blush; but, then, a raw dried herring is +somewhat different to one salted in a barrel. To cook it +would be a sacrilege, say the Germans. And then the +accompaniments! We have two dishes of wonderful little +potatoes, baked in an oven, freshly peeled and shining; and in +the centre of the table is a bowl of melted butter and mustard +well mixed together. You dip your potato in the butter, and +while you thus soften the deep-sea saltness of your herring, the +rough flavour of the latter relishes and overcomes the unctuous +dressing of your potato. I swear to you it is +delicious!</p> +<p>But where is our “braten,” the +“roast,” in fact? Oh, thou unhappy Peter! +I see thee still, reeking over the glowing forge fire, cooking +savoury sausages thou art forbidden to taste! I see thee +still, struggling in vain to “bolt” the blazing +morsel, rashly plucked (in the momentary absence of +Sorgenpfennig), from the bubbling, hissing fat, and thrust into +thy jaws. Those burning tears! those mad distortions of +limb and feature! God pity thee, Peter, but it was not to +be! Those savoury sausages are our “braten,” +and they smack wonderfully after the herrings. If there is +one item in our repast to be deplored, it is the Hamburger beer, +which, however, is as good as it can be, I suppose, for the +money—something under an English penny a bottle. But +here is wine; good, sound wine, not indeed from the Rhine, nor +the Moselle, but red, sparkling, French <i>vin ordinaire</i>, at +a mark—fourteen-pence the bottle.</p> +<p><!-- page 18--><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>Truly, Hamburg, thou art a painstaking, industrious, +money-making city, with more available wealth among thy pitch and +slime than other towns can boast of in their trimness and finery, +but spendthrift, and debauched, and dissolute withal art +thou!</p> +<p class="poetry"><i>Punch, du edler trank der Britten</i>!<br /> +Punch, thou noble drink of Britons—</p> +<p>the outburst of some exhilarated poet—should be +inscribed upon thy double-turreted gate, good Hamburg! The +odorous steam of rum and lemon contends in thine open streets +with the fumes of tobacco; the union of these two perfumes make +up thine atmosphere; while thy public walks are strewn with the +unsmoked ends of cigars, thick as the shrivelled leaves in +autumn.</p> +<p>Seriously, the Hamburger toils earnestly, and takes his +pleasure with a proportionate amount of zeal. His +enjoyments, like his labours, are of a strong and solid +description. The workmen trundle <i>kegle</i> balls in +long, wooden-built alleys; and down in deep beer cellars, snug +and warm, do they cluster, fondling their pipes like favoured +children; taking long gulps of well-made punch, or deeper +draughts of Bairisches beer. If they talk, they do so +vehemently, but they love better to sit and listen to some little +troop of <i>harfenisten</i>—street harp-players—as +they tone the waltzes of Lanner, or sing some chivalrous +romance. Sometimes they form themselves into bands of +choristers, and sing with open windows into the street, or play +at billiards as if it were for life, or congregate in the +dance-houses, and waltz by the hour without a pause. In all +they are hearty, somewhat boisterous, but never wanting in good +temper.</p> +<p>As marriage is out of the question with the workman in +Hamburg, whether stranger or native—unless indeed the +latter may have passed through the probationary course of travel +and conscription, and be already on the verge of +mastership—so also is honourable courtship. His low +wages and dependent position form an impassable barrier to +wedlock, and a married journeyman is almost unknown. By the +law of his native city he must travel for two or three years, +independently of the chances of conscription, and thus for a +period at least he becomes a restless wanderer, without tie or +home. No prudent maiden can listen to his addresses, and +thus it is that Hamburg swarms with unfortunates; and this it is +which gives them rights and immunities unknown in any other +city.</p> +<h2><!-- page 19--><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +19</span>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">plays and +piccadilloes</span>.—“<span +class="smcap">hamlet</span>” <span class="smcap">in +german</span>.</p> +<p>It is Sunday again. Soberly and sedately do we pass our +morning hours. We waken with the sweet music of bells in +our ears; bells that whisper to us of devotion; bells that thrill +us with a calm delight, and raise up in us thoughts of gentleness +and charity.</p> +<p>There is no lack of churches; we see their tapering steeples +and deep gable roofs rising above the general level in many +places, and there is a Little Bethel down by the water’s +side on the Vorsetzen, for the sailors. There are two or +three Little Pandemoniums in its immediate vicinity, or at least +by that classical title are they designated by the Bethlemites +over the way; but salt-water Jack and fresh-river Jack give them +much simpler names, and like them a great deal better, +more’s the pity. We have heard the little jangling +bells in the church pews, and they will not ring in tune, +although they tell the deeds of charity; we have marched staidly +home, and joined in Herr Sorgenpfennig’s blessing over the +midday meal;—Herr Sorgenpfennig delivers it with the +presence and intonation of an Eastern patriarch, standing among +his tribe;—and the delicacies of German cookery having +fulfilled their purpose and disappeared, with a whispered grace +and a bow of humbleness, we sidle out of the room, and leave the +“Herr Meister” to his meditations and his +punch. And so ends the service of the day.</p> +<p>The blond-headed Bavarian begins to hum the last +<i>Tafelliêd</i>, and our quiet Dane smiles +reservedly. “Whither, friends, shall we bend our +steps?” No! by the eternal spirit of modesty, we will +not visit the dance-houses to-day! Those vile shambles by +the water-side, growing out of the slime and filth of the river, +and creeping like a noxious, unwholesome weed, up the shaded +hill, and by narrow ruts and gullies into the open country. +No! Those half-draped, yet gaping doors, have no +attractions for us; those whining notes of soulless music find no +echo in our ears or hearts. There, in their hideous +blandishments, the shameless sit, miserable in their <!-- page +20--><a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +20</span>tawdriness, their painted cheeks peeling in the hot sun, +which they cannot shut out if they would. Throughout the +long day the wearied minstrels pant over their greasy tubes of +brass, or scrape their grimy instruments with horny fingers, +praying for the deep night; and there, through the long day, does +the echoing floor rebound with the beating of vigorous feet; for +salt-water Jack is there, and fresh-river Jack is there, and +while there is a copper <i>pfennig</i> in their pockets, or a +flicker of morality in their hearts, doomed are they equally; for +what can escape spoliation or wreck among such a crowd?</p> +<p>Yet from such commodities as these does the merchant spirit of +the Senate of Hamburg draw huge profits; indeed, it is said that +the whole expense of police and city, and what is worse, yet +better, the tending of the sick, the feeding of the poor, and the +succouring of the helpless and desolate, are alike defrayed from +the produce of the city’s vice; and let us add, the +Senate’s fostering care of it.</p> +<p>And if we wandered out beyond the walls to the right or to the +left, what do we find? On the one hand, “Peter +Hund’s;” on the other “Unkraut’s +Pavilion;” mere dance-houses, after all, though for +“the better sort.” “Peter” has a +tawdry hall, smeared with the escutcheons of all nations, where +music and waltzing whirl through the dense air, hour after hour; +and what is at least of equal consequence to him, Peter holds a +tavern in the next room, where spirits, beer, or coffee are +equally at the command of the drouthy or the luxuriant. And +so also if we followed the road which passes through Stein Thor, +away across the leafy fringing of trees and shrubs which ornament +the city’s outline; and still on through the shady avenues +of youthful stems, when we come upon a great house with deep +overhanging eaves, square-topped chimneys, and altogether with a +Swiss air about it. There are idlers hanging about the +door, for this is “Unkraut’s,” and the brisk +air of musical instruments streams out of the open portal. +Within all is motion and uproar. A large <i>salle de +danse</i> occupies the greater part of the ground floor, the +central portion of which is appropriated to the waltzers, while a +broad slip on each side, beneath an overhanging gallery, running +round the whole of the apartment, remains for those who drink, or +take a temporary repose. Sometimes, however, the flood of +waltzers pours in upon the side-tables, amid the clatter of +chairs, the ringing of glass and china, and the laughter of the +spectators. Gentlemen are not allowed to dance with their +hats on; (where else, in Heaven’s name, can they place +them?) and must lay their heavy pipes and cigars aside, as <!-- +page 21--><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>smoking is permitted only in the gallery above. +The company is of the “better sort” in the +<i>salle</i> below; that is to say, that vice, shameless and +unveiled, is not allowed to flaunt without a check; but there is +taint and gangrene among all; feeble wills and failing hearts to +bear up against the intoxicating stream of music, and giddy heads +for thought or reason amid the whirl and swimming of the +dance.</p> +<p>“Unkraut’s” has, however, attractions apart +from the ball-room. By a quiet stair at the end of the +gallery, through muffled doors that close upon you as you enter, +and shut out like walls the hum and hubbub below, we come upon an +ill-shapen apartment, where hushed, absorbed men are seated at +desks, as at a school, each with a huge frame dotted with numbers +before him. A strange contrast to the scene without. +There is a heavy quiet in the place, disturbed only by an +occasional cough, a shuffling of feet, and the silvery ringing of +little plates of glass. A monstrous game of Lotto is +this. A mere child’s play of gambling, requiring +neither tact, wit, nor reasoning; a simple lottery, in fact, +dependent for success upon the accidental marking (each player +upon his own board or table) of the first five numbers that may +be drawn. Now we hear a strange rattling of wooden pieces, +shaken in a bag, and as each piece is drawn, a bustling man with +an obstreperous voice, calls out the number; not in full, +sonorous German, but in broad, uncouth Platt Deutsche (low +German), and eager tongues respond from distant corners claiming +the prize. A dull-headed game is this, fitted only for the +most inveterate gamblers; but it yields money to the Stadt, and +that is its recommendation.</p> +<p>As the day wears on, its attractions increase. The Elb +Pavilion offers a rare treat; exquisite music, executed with +vigour, delicacy, and precision. Moreover, its frequenters +are decidedly of a respectable class. But we will not be +moved; we have set our hearts upon witnessing a play of +Shakespeare’s, announced for this night at the Stadt +Theatre, and that no less a one than “Hamlet, Prince of +Denmark.”</p> +<p>The Stadt Theatre in Hamburg enjoys a strange monopoly; for by +the Senate’s will it is declared that no other theatre +shall exist within the city walls. Yet, curiously enough, a +wonderful old woman, by some unaccountable freak, has the +privilege, or hereditary right, of licensing or directing a +theatrical establishment within the boundaries, and thus a second +theatre contends for the favours of the public; and in order to +define its position and state of existence, it <!-- page 22--><a +name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 22</span>is entitled +simply Das Zweite Theatre (The Second Theatre). It is an +especially favourite place of amusement with the Hamburgers, +although they play an incomprehensible jumble of unconnected +scenes, called “possen,” adapted solely to display +the peculiar talents of certain actors. One odd fellow +there reaps showers of applause for no other exhibition of +ability than that of looking intensely stupid, for he seldom +utters a word; but assumes an appearance of unfathomable vacuity +that is inimitable. There are still two theatres outside +the city walls: the one, the Tivoli, devoted to farces and +vaudevilles; the other consecrated to the portrayal of the deeply +sentimental, and the fearfully tragic—with poison, +dagger-blades, convulsions and heavy-stamping ever at +command.</p> +<p>But our play! Here we are in the gallery of a splendid +edifice, equal in extent to our Covent Garden Theatre at home, +having come to this part of the house in anticipation of a feeble +audience in preference to the parterre or pit. Note also, +that here we pay eight <i>schillinge</i> only, while a place +below would cost us twenty. But the house is crammed, for +Shakespeare draws as well in Germany as in England, perhaps for +the simple reason that in no other country are his works so well +translated. We find ourselves in the midst of a dense +cluster of earnest Danes, who say the most impressive things in +the quietest way in the world. They are strongly interested +in the coming performance, for “Hamlet the Dane” has +taken deep hold upon the Danish affections; and in Elsinore, so +great is the consideration entertained for this all but fabulous +prince, that they will point you out the garden wherein his royal +father suffered murder</p> +<blockquote><p>—most foul, strange, and unnatural,</p> +</blockquote> +<p>and the grave where the “gentle prince” himself +lies buried. The play begins; with the deepest earnestness +the audience listen, and, crowded as they are, preserve the +utmost quiet. The glorious drama scene by scene unfolds +itself, and passage by passage we recognise the beauties of our +great poet. Herr Carr, starring it from Vienna, is no +unworthy representative of the noble-hearted Dane, although +unequal, we think, to the finer traits, and more delicate +emotions of the character. The dresses are admirable, +sometimes gorgeous, and the groupings most effective. The +scenery alone is unsatisfactory; indecisive and colourless as it +is, without <!-- page 23--><a name="page23"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 23</span>depth or tone, it strikes you as the +first effort in perspective of a feeble-handed amateur. As +the play proceeds, the action grows upon us, and the rapt +spectators resent with anger the least outcry or +disturbance. The first scene with the players is omitted, +but the concluding portion is a triumph; for as <i>Hamlet</i>, +arriving at the climax of his sarcasm, and bursting for a moment +into rage, flings the flute away, with the exclamation: +“S’blood, do you think I am easier to be played on +than a pipe?” the whole theatre rings with the +applause.</p> +<p>Presently, however, we are aware of a gap, a huge hiatus in +the performance; a grave, and yet no grave, for the whole +churchyard scene, with its quaint and exquisite philosophy, the +rude wit of the gravediggers, and the pointed moralising of the +prince, are all wanting—all swept away by the ruthless hand +of the critic; skulls and bones, picks and mattocks, wit and +drollery, diggers, waistcoats and all! Not even +<i>Yorick</i>, with his “gibes” and “flashes of +merriment”—not even he is spared. On the other +hand, a portion of a scene is represented which, until lately, +was always omitted on the English stage. It is that in +which the guilty king, overcome by remorse, thus +soliloquises:—</p> +<blockquote><p>O, my offence is rank, it smells to heaven!</p> +</blockquote> +<p><i>Hamlet</i>, coming upon his murderous uncle in his prayers, +exclaims:—</p> +<blockquote><p>Now might I do it, pat, while he is praying;<br /> +And now I’ll do ’t—and so he goes to heaven:<br +/> +And so am I revenged?</p> +</blockquote> +<p>The omission or retention of this scene might well be a matter +of dispute, for while it represents the guilty Claudius miserable +and contrite, even in the height of his success, it also portrays +the anticipated revenge of <i>Hamlet</i> in so fearful a light, +that he stands there, not the human instrument of divine +retribution, but with all the diabolical cravings of Satan +himself. I leave this question to abler critics, and, in +the meantime, our play is finished, amid shouts of delight and +calls before the curtain. It is but half-past nine, yet +this is a late hour for a German theatre, where they rarely +perform more than one piece, and that seldom exceeding two hours +in duration. Descending to the street, wrapped in the +recollections of the gorgeous poem whose beauties still echo in +our ears, we are vulgar enough to relish hot sausages and +Bavarian beer.</p> +<p><!-- page 24--><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>An hour later we pace our half-lighted Johannis Strasse, +seeking the portal of our house amid the gloom. Suddenly we +are startled by the tramp of a heavy foot, and the clang and +rattle of a steel weapon as it strikes upon the ground. A +burly voice assails us: “Whither are you going?”</p> +<p>Is this Bernardo, wandered from the ramparts in search of the +ghost of Hamlet’s father?</p> +<p>Not so: it is but one of the night-watch, armed with an +enormous halbert which might have done good service in the thirty +years’ war. The faithful <i>nachtwächter</i> +strikes it upon the ground with the butt-end at regular +intervals, so that sinful depredators may have timely notice of +his approach. As it has a large hook at the back it is said +to be admirably adapted for catching thieves by the leg, if its +opportune clattering does not keep them out of its reach.</p> +<p>We render a good account of ourselves, and are duly escorted +to our home.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">the german +workman</span>.</p> +<p>That workmen in England may have some clear knowledge of the +ways and customs of a large number of their brethren on the +Continent, I here intend to put down for their use a part of my +own knowledge and experience.</p> +<p>The majority of trades in Germany are formed into guilds, or +companies. At the head of each guild stands an officer +chosen by the government, whatever it may be—for you may +find a government of any sort in Germany, between an emperor and +a senate—this officer being always a master, and a member +of the guild. His title differs in almost every German +state, but he is generally called Trade-master, or Deputy. +Associated with him are two or three of the oldest employers; or, +in some cases, workmen in the trade, under the titles of +Eldermen, or Masters’ Representatives. These three or +four men govern the guild, and have under them, for the proper +transaction of business, a secretary and a messenger. Such +<!-- page 25--><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +25</span>officers, however, do not represent their trade in the +whole state or kingdom, but are chosen, in every large town, to +conduct the multifarious business that may require attention +within its limits.</p> +<p>Although all these guilds are, in their original constitution, +formed on the same model, they differ materially in their +internal arrangements. Much depends upon the ruling +government of the state in which they are situated; for, while in +despotic Prussia, what is there called Freedom of Trade is +declared for all, in the “free” town of Hamburg +everything is bound and locked up in small monopolies.</p> +<p>In some parts of Germany there are “close trades,” +which means to say that the number of masters in each is +definitely fixed. This is so in Hamburg. For +instance, among the goldsmiths, the number of new masters +annually to be elected is three, being about sufficient to fill +up the deficiencies occurring from death and other causes. +I have heard of as many as five being elected in one year, and I +have also heard it asserted that this was to be accounted for on +the supposition that the aldermen had been “smeared in the +hand,” that is to say, bribed.</p> +<p>There are other trades locked up in a different way. +There exist several of this kind in Nuremberg and thereabouts; +as, the awl and punch-makers, lead-pencil makers, hand-bell +makers, gold and silver wire-drawers, and others. They +occupy a particular town or district, and they say, “Here +we are. We possess these trades, and we mean to keep them +to ourselves. We will teach no strangers our craft; we will +confine it among our relatives and townsmen; and in order to +prevent the knowledge of it from spreading any farther, we will +allow our workmen to travel only within the limits of our town or +land;” and so they keep their secrets close.</p> +<p>In other trades, the workmen are allowed to engage themselves +only to a privileged employer. That is to say, they dare +not execute a private order, but can receive employment from a +master of the craft only. In Prussia, and some few other +lands, each workman can work on his own account, and can offer +his goods for sale in the public market unhindered, so long as +they are the production of his own hands alone; but should he +employ a journeyman, then he pays a tax to Government of about +ten shillings annually, the tax increasing in proportion to the +number of men he may employ.</p> +<p>There are also “endowed” and +“unendowed” trades. An endowed guild is one the +members of which pay a certain small sum monthly <!-- page +26--><a name="page26"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 26</span>while +in work, and thus form a fund for the relief of the sick and the +assistance of the travelling members of the trade. There +are few trades of the unendowed kind, for the workmen of such +trades have to depend upon the generosity of their companions in +the craft in the hour of need; and it is generally found more +economical to pay a regular sum than to be called on at uncertain +intervals for a donation; moreover, the respectability of the +craft is better maintained.</p> +<p>While we talk of respectability, we may add that it was +formerly the especial care of the heads of each guild, to see +that no disreputable persons became members of the trade; and +illegitimate children, and even the lawful offspring of +shepherds, bailiffs, and town servants were carefully +excluded. This practice exists no longer, except in some +few insignificant places; but the law is still very general which +says that no workman can become a master who has not fulfilled +every regulation imposed by his guild; that is to say, he must +have been apprenticed at the proper age to a properly-constituted +master; must have regularly completed his period of +apprenticeship, and have passed the appointed time in +travel. The worst part of all these regulations is, that, +as they vary in almost every state, the unfortunate wanderer has +to conform to a new set of laws in every new land he enters.</p> +<p>One other regulation is almost universal. Each guild +must have a place of meeting; not a sumptuous hall, but mere +accommodation in a public-house. It is called the +“Herberge,” and answers, in many respects, to our +“House of Call.” This is the weary +traveller’s place of rest—he can claim a shelter +here; indeed, in most cases, he dares sleep nowhere else. +Here also the guild holds its quarterly meetings. By way of +illustration, let us take the Goldsmith’s Herberge in +Hamburg; the “Stadt Bremen” is the sign of the +house. In it, the goldsmiths use a large, rectangular +apartment, furnished with a few rough tables and chairs, and a +wooden bench running round its four walls. On the tables +are arranged long clay pipes, and in the centre of each table is +a small dish of what the uninitiated might take to be dried tea +leaves. This is uncut tobacco, which the host, the father +of the House of Call, is bound to provide. The secretary +and messenger of the guild of goldsmiths are there, together with +one or two of the “Altgesellen” (elder journeymen), +who perform the active part of the duties of the guild. The +minutes of the last meeting, and the incidents of <!-- page +27--><a name="page27"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 27</span>the +quarter—possibly, also, an abstract of the +rules—having been read, and new officers, to supersede +those who retire, having been balloted for, the business of the +evening closes. Then commences a confusion of tongues; for +here are congregated Russians, Hungarians, Danes, Hamburgers, +Prussians, Austrians; possibly there may be found here a member +of every state in the German Union. None are silent, and +the dialect of each is distinct. Assiduously, in the pauses +of his private conversation, every man smokes his long pipe, and +drinks his beer or punch. Presently two female harp-players +enter—sources of refreshment quite as popular in Hamburg as +the punch. They strike up an infatuating waltz. The +effect is wonderful. Two or three couples (men waltzing +with men, of course) are immediately on their feet, scrambling, +kicking, and scraping round the room; hugging each other in the +most awkward manner. Chairs and tables are huddled into +corners; for the mania has seized upon two-thirds of the +company. The rest cannot forsake their beer, but congregate +in the corners, and yell, and scream toasts and +“Lebe-hoch!” till they are hoarse.</p> +<p>Two girls enter, with trifling articles of male attire for +sale; stocks, pomatum, brushes, and beard-wax; but the said +damsels are immediately pounced upon for partners. In the +intervals of the music a grand tournament takes place; the +weapons being clay-pipes, which are speedily shattered into a +thousand pieces, and strewn about the room to facilitate +dancing. Such a scene of shuffling, whirling, shouting, and +pipe-crunching could scarcely be seen elsewhere.</p> +<p>We will take a German youth destined to become an artisan, and +endeavour to follow him through the complication of conflicting +usages of which he stands the ordeal. Hans is fourteen +years of age, and has just left school with a decent +education. Hans has his trade and master chosen for him; is +taken before the heads of the guild, and his indenture duly +signed and sealed in their presence, they themselves witnessing +the document. His term of apprenticeship is probably four +years, perhaps six; a premium is seldom given, and when it is, it +shortens the period of apprenticeship. The indenture, +together with a certificate of baptism, in some cases that of +confirmation (which ceremony serves as an important epoch in +Germany), and even a documentary proof of vaccination, are +deposited in the coffers of the guild, and kept at the Herberge +for future reference.</p> +<p><!-- page 28--><a name="page28"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +28</span>Obedience to elders and superiors is the one great duty +inculcated in the minds of all Germans, and Hans is taught to +look upon his master as a second father; to consider short +commons as a regulation for his especial good, and to bear +cuffing—if he should fall in the way of +it—patiently. If he be an apprentice in Vienna, he +may possibly breakfast upon a hunch of brown bread, and an +unlimited supply of water; dine upon a thin soup and a block of +tasteless, fresh-boiled beef; and sup upon a cold crust. He +may fare better or worse; but, as a general rule, he will sleep +in a vile hole, will look upon coffee and butter as undeniable +luxuries, and know the weight of his master’s hand.</p> +<p>Hans has one great source of pleasure. There is a state +school, which he attends on Sundays, and where he is instructed +in drawing and modelling. In his future travels he will +find the advantage he has acquired over less educated mechanics +in this necessary knowledge; and should he come to England, he +will discover that his skill as a draughtsman will place him at +once in a position superior to that of the chance-taught workmen +about him. He completes his apprenticeship without +attempting to run away. That is practically impossible; but +he yearns, with all the ardour of a young heart, for the happy +day when he may tramp out of his native town with his knapsack on +his back, and the wide world before him.</p> +<p>We will suppose Hans out of his time, and declared a free +journeyman by the guild. The law of his country now has it +that he must travel—generally for three years, perhaps four +or six—before he can take up the position of a +master. He may work for a short period in his native town +as a journeyman, but forth he must; nor is he in any way +loth. One only contingency there is, which may serve to +arrest him in his course,—he may be drawn as a +conscript—and, possibly, forget in the next two or three +years, as a soldier, all he has previously learned in four as a +mechanic. But we suppose Hans to have escaped this peril, +and to be on the eve of his departure.</p> +<p>When an English gentleman, or mechanic, or beggar, in these +isles, has resolved upon making a journey, he has but to pack up +his traps, whether it be in his portmanteau, his deal-box, or his +pocket-handkerchief; to purchase his ticket at the railway or +steam-packet station; and without asking or consulting with +anybody about the matter, to take his seat in the vehicle, and +off he goes. <!-- page 29--><a name="page29"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 29</span>Not so Hans. He gives his +master fourteen days’ notice of his intention to wander; +applies to the aldermen of his guild for copies of the various +documents concerning himself in their possession; and obtains +from his employer a written attestation of his past +services. This document is called a +“Kundschaft;” is written in set form, acknowledges +his probity and industry, and is countersigned by the two +aldermen. He is now in a condition to wait upon the +“Herberges-Vater” (the landlord of the House of +Call), and request his signature also. The Vater, seeing +that Hans owes nothing to him or to any other townsman—and +all creditors know that they have only to report their claims at +the Herberge to obtain for them a strict attention—signs +his paper, “all quit.” Surely he may start +forth now! Not so; the most important document is still +wanting. He has, as yet, no passport or wander-book.</p> +<p>Hans goes to the police-bureau, and, as he is poor, has to +wait a long while. If Hans were rich, or an artist, or a +master’s son, it is highly probable that ho would be able +to obtain a passport—and the possession of a passport +guarantees many advantages—but as Hans is simply a workman, +a “wander-book” only is granted to him. This +does indeed cost him less money, but it thrusts him into an +unwelcome position, from which it is not easy to escape. He +is placed under stricter rule, and, among other things, is +forced, during his wandering, to sleep at his trade Herberge, +which, from the very monopoly it thus enjoys, is about the worst +place he could go to for a lodging.</p> +<p>The good magistrate of Perleberg—the frontier town of +Prussia, as you enter from Mecklenburg—had the kindness to +affix to my passport a document entitled, “Ordinance +concerning the Wandering of Working-men.” I will +briefly translate its contents. The +“Verordnung” commences with a preamble, to the effect +that, notwithstanding the various things that have been done and +undone with respect to the aforesaid journeymen, it still happens +that numbers of them wander purposeless about the land, to the +great burden of their particular trades and the public in +general, and to the imminent danger of the common safety. +Therefore, be it enacted, that “passports,” that is +to say, “passes,” in which the distinct purpose of +the journey is stated, such as a search for employment; or +“wander-books,” in which occupation by manual labour +is the especial object, are to be granted to those natives of +Prussia only who pursue a trade or art for the perfection of +which <!-- page 30--><a name="page30"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 30</span>travelling may be considered useful +or necessary. To those only who are irreproachable in +character, and perfectly healthy in body; this latter to be +attested by a medical certificate. To those only who have +not passed their thirtieth year, nor have travelled for the five +previous years without intermission. To those only who +possess a proper amount of clothing, including linen, as well as +a sum of money not less than five dollars (about sixteen +shillings) for travelling expenses. So much for +natives. Foreigners must possess all the above-named +requisites; must be provided with proper credentials from their +home authorities, and may not have been more than four weeks +without employment on their arrival at the frontier. Again, +every wanderer must distinctly state in what particular town or +city he intends to seek employment, and by what route he purposes +to get there; and any deviation from the chosen road (which will +be marked in the wander-book) will be visited by the punishment +of expulsion from the country. A fixed number of days will +be allotted to the wanderer in which to reach his destination, +but should he overstep that period, a similar punishment awaits +him; expulsion from the country always meaning that the offender +shall retrace his steps, and quit the land by the way he had +entered it. This is the substance of the +“ordinance.”</p> +<p>Hans is ready for the road. He has only now to take his +farewell. A farewell among workmen is simply a +drinking-bout, a parting glass taken overnight. Hans has +many friends; these appoint a place of assemblage, and invite him +thither. It is a point of honour among them that the +“wandering boy” shall pay nothing. Imagine a +large, half-lighted room; a crowded board of bearded faces. +On the table steams a huge bowl of punch, which the chosen head +of the party, perhaps Johann’s late master, ladles into the +tiny glasses. He proclaims the toast, “The Health of +the Wanderer!” The little crowd are on their feet, +and amid a pretty tinkling of glasses, an irregular shout arises, +a small hurricane of voices, wishing him good speed.</p> +<p>What songs are sung, what healths are drunk, what heartfelt +wishes are expressed! The German workmen are good friends +to one another—men who are already away from friends and +home, and whose tenderest recollections are awakened in the +farewell expressed to a departing companion. Many tears are +shed, many hearty presses of the hand are given, and not a few +kisses impressed upon the cheek. Little tokens of affection +are interchanged, and <!-- page 31--><a name="page31"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 31</span>promises to write are made, but +seldom kept. With this mingling and outpouring of full +hearts, the stream of punch still flows through tiny glasses: +but, since “Many a little makes a mickle,” the +farewell thus taken ends sometimes as a debauch.</p> +<p>Hans, in the morning, is perhaps a little the worse for last +night’s punch. He is attired in a clean white blouse, +strapped round the waist; a neat travelling-cap; low, stout +shoes; and, possibly, linen wrappers, instead of socks. The +knapsack, strapped to his back, contains a sufficient change of +linen, a coat artistically packed, which is to be worn in cities, +and a few necessary tools; the whole stock weighing, perhaps, +twenty or thirty pounds. On the sides of the knapsack are +little pouches, containing brushes, blacking, and soap; and in +his breast-pocket is stowed away a little flask of +brandy-schnaps, to revive his drooping spirits on the road. +A stout stick completes his equipment. A last adieu from +the one friend of his heart, who will walk a few miles with him +on the way—and so he is launched fairly on his journey.</p> +<p>Hans finds the road much harder, and his knapsack heavier than +he had expected. Now he is drenched with rain, and can get +no shelter; and, when he does, he will find straw an inconvenient +substitute for a bed. At last he arrives at Berlin. +He has picked up a companion on the road; and, as it frequently +happens that several trades hold their meetings in the same +house, they both are bound to the same Herberge. Through +strange, half-lighted streets, along narrow edges of pavement, +they proceed till they enter a court, or wynd, with no footpath +at all, and they are in the Schuster Gasse, before the door of +the Herberge. The comrade of Hans announces them as they +pass the bar, and the next moment they are in the +travellers’ room, amid as motley a group as ever met within +four walls.</p> +<p>Tumult and hubbub. An indescribable odour of tobacco, +cummin (carraway), and potato-salad. A variety of hustled +blouses. Sunburnt and haggard faces. Ragged beards +and unkempt locks. A strong pipe hanging from every lip; +beer, or kümmil (a spirit prepared with cummin) at every +hand. Wild snatches of song, and hurried bursts of +dialogue. Some are all violence and uproar; some are half +dead with sleep and fatigue, their arms sprawling about the +tables. Such is the inside of a German trade +traveller’s room.</p> +<p>Hans and his companion hand over their papers to the +“father” as a security, and their knapsacks to a +sluttish-looking girl, who <!-- page 32--><a +name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>deposits them +in a cupboard in the corner of the room, and locks the door upon +them. Our travellers order a measure of Berliner Weiss +Bier, to be in keeping with the rest, and long for the hour of +sleep. At length, a stout young man enters, carrying a +lighted lantern, and in a loud voice of authority summonses all +to bed. And there is a scrambling and hustling among some +of the travellers, a hasty guzzling of beer and spirits, and a +few low murmurs at being disturbed, but none dare disobey.</p> +<p>A shambling troop of sixteen or eighteen, they quit the room, +and enter a small paved yard, preceded by the young man with the +lantern. There is a rough building resembling a stable, at +the other end of the yard; and, in one corner, a steep ladder, +with a handrail, which leads to a chamber above. They +ascend, and enter a long, low loft, so completely crowded with +rough bedsteads that there remains but a narrow alley between +them, just sufficient to allow a single person to pass. +Eight double beds, and the ceiling so low that the companion of +Hans can scarcely stand upright with his hat on.</p> +<p>“New-comers this way,” shouts the conductor.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, now?” inquires Hans of +his comrade.</p> +<p>“Take off your coat,” is the answer in a whisper; +“undo the wristbands, and throw open the collar of your +shirt.”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“To be examined.”</p> +<p>So they are examined; and, being pronounced sound, are allowed +to sleep with the rest of the flock. In this loft, each bed +with at least two occupants, and the door locked—without +consideration for fire, accident, or sudden +indisposition,—Hans passes the first night in Berlin.</p> +<p>But there is no work in Berlin, and Hans must pursue his +journey. He waits for hours at the police-office, as +play-goers wait at the door of a London theatre. By and by, +he gets into the small bureau with a desperate rush. That +business is settled, and he is off again. Time runs on; +and, after a further tramp of good two hundred miles, Hans gets +settled at last in the free city of Hamburg.</p> +<p>With the exception of a few factories, such as the silk-works +at Chemnitz, in Saxony, and the colony of goldsmiths at +Pfortzheim, in Wurtemburg, there are few extensive manufactories +in Germany. Trade is split up into little masterships of +from one to five or six men. <!-- page 33--><a +name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>This +circumstance materially affects the relation between the employer +and employed.</p> +<p>The master under whom Hans serves at Hamburg is a pleasant, +affable gentleman; his apprentice Peter may be of a different +opinion, but that is of no consequence. The master has +spent the best years of his life in England and France; has +learned to speak the languages of both countries with perfect +facility, and is one of the lucky monopolists of his trade. +He employs three workmen; one of them, who is possessed of that +peculiar cast of countenance generally attributed to the children +of Israel, has been demurred to by the Guild,—and +why? Because a Jew is legally incapable of working in +Hamburg. He is, however, allowed the usual privileges on +attesting that he is not an Israelite.</p> +<p>Our master accommodates under his own roof one workman and his +apprentice Peter. The others, whom he cannot lodge, are +allowed each one mark-banco (fourteen pence) per week, to enable +them to find a bed-chamber elsewhere. They suffer a +pecuniary loss by the arrangement. Hans sleeps in a narrow +box, built on the landing, into which no ray of heaven’s +light had ever penetrated. His bedding is a very simple +affair. He is troubled with neither blankets nor +sheets. An “under” and an “over” +bed, the latter rather lighter than the former, and both supposed +to be of feathers, form his bed and bedding. Hans is as +well off as others, so he does not complain. As for the +apprentice, Peter, it was known that he disappeared at a certain +hour every evening; and from his appearance when he turned out in +the morning, Hans was under the impression that he wildly shot +himself into some deep and narrow hole, and slept the night +through on his head.</p> +<p>And how does Hans fare under his master’s roof? +Considering the reminiscences of his apprenticeship, he relishes +his cup of coffee in the morning; his tiny round roll of white +bread; the heavy black rye-loaf, into which he is allowed to hew +his way unchecked; and the beautiful Holstein butter. Not +being accustomed to better food, it is possible that he enjoys +the tasteless, fresh boiled beef, and the sodden baked meat, with +no atom of fat, which form the staple food at dinner. +Whether he can comprehend the soups which are sometimes placed +before him,—now made of shredded lemons, now of strained +apples, and occasionally of plain water, with a sprinkling of +rice, is another matter; but the sourkraut and bacon, the boiled +beef and raisins, <!-- page 34--><a name="page34"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 34</span>and the baked veal and prunes, are +certain to be looked upon by him as unusual luxuries.</p> +<p>The master presides at the table, and blesses the meat with +the air of a father of his people. Although workmen in +Germany are little better than old apprentices, this daily and +familiar intercourse has the effect of breaking down the formal +barriers which in England effectually divide the capitalist and +the labourer. It creates a respectful familiarity, which +raises the workman without lowering the master. The manners +of both are thereby decidedly improved.</p> +<p>Hans gradually learns other trade customs. His comrade +falls sick, and is taken to the free hospital, a little way out +of the city. This hospital is clean and well kept, but +fearfully crowded. The elder journeymen of the Guild are +there too, and they comfort the sick man, and hand him the weekly +stipend, half-a-crown, allowed out of the sick-fund. Hans +contributes to this sick-fund two marks—two shillings and +fourpence—a quarter. He does it willingly, but the +master has power to deduct it from his wages in the name of the +Guild. His poor sick friend dies; away from home and +friends—a desolate being among strangers. But he is +not, therefore, to be neglected. Every workman in the trade +is called upon to contribute his share—about +sevenpence—towards the expenses of the funeral; and the two +senior, assisted by four other journeymen, in full evening dress, +attend his funeral. His effects are then carefully packed +up, and sent—a melancholy memorial of the dead—to his +relations.</p> +<p>From the same fund which relieves the sick, are the +“wandering boys” also assisted. But the +“Geschenk” (gift), as it is called, is a mere trifle; +sometimes but a few pence, and in a large city like Berlin it +amounts to but twenty silver groschen—little more than two +shillings. It is not considered disgraceful to accept this +donation; as all, when in work, contribute towards the fund from +which it is supplied.</p> +<p>And what is the amount of wages that German workmen +receive? In Hamburg wages vary from five to eight marks per +week, that is, from seven shillings to ten and sixpence, paid +monthly. In Leipsic they are paid fortnightly, and average +about ten shillings per week. In Berlin wages are paid by +the calendar month, and average twenty-four dollars (a dollar is +rather more than three shillings), for that period; so that a +workman may be said to earn about eighteen shillings a week, but +is dependent on his own resources for food and lodging. In +Vienna the same regulation exists, and wages range <!-- page +35--><a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 35</span>from +five to eight guldens—ten to sixteen shillings per +week—paid weekly, as in England. But a workman in +Vienna may be respectably lodged, lighted, and washed for at the +rate of half-a-crown a week. In Berlin and Vienna married +journeymen are to be met with, but not in great numbers, and in +smaller towns they may almost be said to be unknown. Dr. +Korth, in his address to his young friends, the “travelling +boys,” on this subject, emphatically +says—“Avoid, in God’s name, all attachments to +womankind, more especially to those of whom your hearts would +say, ‘These could I love.’” And then the +quaint old gentleman proceeds to say a number of ungallant +things, which are not worth translating.</p> +<p>No! the German workman is taught to hold himself free, that he +may carry out the law of his land to the letter; that he may +return from his travels at the appointed time “a wiser and +a better man;” that he may show proofs of his acquired +skill in his trade, and thereupon claim the master’s right +and position. He is then free to marry, and is looked upon +as an “eligible party.” But how seldom does all +this come to pass, may the thousands who swarm in London and +Paris; may the German colonies which dot the American States, +sufficiently tell. Many linger in large cities till they +feel that to return to the little native village, and its old, +poor, plodding ways, would be little better than burial alive; +and some return, wasted with foreign vice and purchased +adversity, premature old men, to die upon the threshold of their +early homes.</p> +<p>One more question—what are their amusements? It +would be a long story to tell, but certainly home-reading is not +a prominent enjoyment among them. German governments, as a +rule, take care that the people’s amusements shall not be +interfered with. The workmen throng in dance-houses, +beer-cellars, cafés, and theatres, which are all liveliest +and most attractive on a Sunday; and, as they are tolerably +cheap, they are generally a successful lure from deep thinking or +study. Besides, the German workman has no home. If he +stay there at all in holiday hours, it is to draw, or model, or +sing romances to the strumming of his guitar.</p> +<h2><!-- page 36--><a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +36</span>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">hamburg to +lübeck</span>.</p> +<p>The bleak, icy winter of North Germany is past. We have +trodden its accumulated snows as they lay in crisp heaps in the +streets of Hamburg; and have watched the muffled crowd upon the +frozen Alster, darting and reeling, skating, sliding, and +sleighing upon its opaque and motionless surface. We have +alternately loved and execrated the massive German oven, which +warmed us indeed, but never showed us a cheerful face. We +have sipped our coffee or our punch in the beautiful winter +garden of Tivoli, under the shade of lemon-trees, with fragrant +flowers and shrubs around us; and finally, have looked upon the +ice-bound Elbe with its black vessels, slippery masts, and rigid +cordage, and seen the Hanoverian milk lasses skimming its dun +expanse laden with their precious burdens. We have got over +the slop and drizzle, and half-thawed slush, too; and the +boisterous March wind dashes among the houses; and what is better +than all, the fresh mornings are growing brighter and longer with +every returning sun.</p> +<p>Away, then, out of the old city, alone on the flat, sandy road +that lies between Hamburg and Berlin. Here we are, with +hope before us, resolution spurring us on, and a twenty-eight +pound knapsack on our backs. Tighten the straps, my friend, +and you will walk easier with your load.</p> +<p>My journey as a workman on the tramp from Hamburg to Berlin I +propose to tell, as simply as I can. I have no great +adventures to describe, but I desire to illustrate some part of +what has already been said about the workmen in Germany, and I +can do this best by relating, just as it was, a small part of my +own road experience, neither more nor less wonderful than the +experience which is every day common to thousands of Germans.</p> +<p>I was very poor when I set out from Hamburg in the month of +March, with my knapsack strapped to my back, my stick in my hand, +and my bottle of strong comfort slung about my neck after <!-- +page 37--><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +37</span>the manner of a locket. I was not poor in my own +conceit, for I had in my fob—the safest pocket for so large +a sum of money—two gold ducats and some Prussian dollars: +English money, thirty-five shillings. I thought I was a +proper fellow with that quantity of ready cash upon my person, +and a six weeks’ beard on my chin.</p> +<p>Many adieus had been spoken in Hamburg at our last +night’s revel, but a Danish friend was up betimes to see me +out of town. At length he also bade the wanderer farewell, +and for the comfort of us both my locket having passed from hand +to hand, he left me to tramp on alone, over the dull, flat, sandy +road. There was scarcely a tree to be seen, and the sky +looked like a heavy sheet of lead, but I stepped out boldly and +made steady progress. The road got to be worse; I came +among deep ruts and treacherous sloughs, and the fields on each +side of the road were flooded. In some parts the road was a +sand swamp, and the walk became converted into a gymnastic +exercise; a leaping about towards what seemed the hard and knobby +places that appeared among the mud. This exercise soon made +me conscious of the knapsack, to which I was then not thoroughly +accustomed. It was not so much the weight that I felt, but +the tightness of the belt across the chest, which caused pain and +impediment of breathing. Custom, however, caused the +knapsack to become even an aid to me in walking.</p> +<p>A sturdy young fellow who did not object to mud was pushing +his way recklessly behind me. I was soon overtaken, we +exchanged kind greetings, and jogged on together, shoulder to +shoulder. He had been upon his travels; had been in Denmark +for two years, and had left Copenhagen to return to his native +village, that lay then only eight or ten miles before us. +What was his reason for returning? He was required to +perform military service, and for the next two years at +least—or for a longer time, should war break out—was +doomed to be a soldier. He did not think the doom +particularly hard, and we jogged on together in a cheerful mood +until his knowledge of the ground became distressingly familiar, +and he illustrated portions of the scenery with tales of robbery +and murder. The scenery of the road became at every turn +more picturesque. Instead of passing between swampy fields, +it ran along a hollow, and the ground was on each side broken +into deep holes with rugged edges; black leafless bushes stood +out from the grey and yellow sand, while farther away in the +background, against the leaden sky, there was a sombre fringe of +thickly planted fir-trees. <!-- page 38--><a +name="page38"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 38</span>The daylight, +dim at noon, had become dimmer as evening drew near; the grey sky +darkened, and the tales of robbery and murder made my thoughts +anything but cheerful. As the hills grew higher on each +side of us, it occurred to us both that here was a fine place for +a murder, and I let my companion go before, handling my stick at +the same time as one ready to strike instantly if any injury were +offered. I was just demonstrative enough to frighten my +companion. We were a mere couple of rabbits. Each of +us in his innocence feared that the other might be a guilty +monster, and so we were both glad enough to get out of the narrow +pass. On the other side of the glen the road widened, and +my companion paused at the head of a little path that led down to +a deeper corner of the hollow, and across the fields. That +was his way home. He had but a mile to go, and was already +anticipating all the kisses of his household. He wished me +a prosperous journey; I wished him a happy welcome in his +village; and we shook hands like two young men who owed amends to +one another.</p> +<p>He had told me before we parted that there were two houses of +entertainment not far in advance. Already I saw the +red-tiled roof of one, that looked like a respectable +farm-house. From the door of that house, however, I was +turned away; and as the darkness of the evening was changing into +night, I ran as fast as I was able to the next place of +shelter. By the pump, the horse-trough, and the dirty pool +I knew that there was entertainment there for man and +horse. I therefore raised the wooden latch, and in a modest +tone made my request for a bed. A vixenish landlady from +the midst of a group of screaming children cried to me, +“You can’t have a bed, you can have +straw.” That would do quite as well, I said.</p> +<p>I sat down at a table in a corner of the large room, called +for a glass of beer, produced some bread and sausage that I had +brought with me from Hamburg, and made a comfortable +supper. There was a large wood fire blazing on the ample +hearth, but the landlord and his family engrossed its whole +vicinity. The house contained no other sitting-room and no +other sleeping accommodation than the one family bedroom and the +barn.</p> +<p>While I was at supper there came in other wandering boys like +myself. I had escaped the rain, but they had not; they came +in dripping: a stout man, and a tall, lank stripling. The +youth wore a white blouse and hat covered with oil-skin; his +trousers were tucked halfway up his legs, and he had mud up to +his ankles. We <!-- page 39--><a name="page39"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 39</span>soon exchanged our scraps of +information about one another. The stout man was a baker +from Lübeck on the way to Hamburg; the stripling, probably +not yet out of his teens, was part brazier, part coppersmith, +part tinman; had been three weeks on his travels, and had come, +like myself, from Hamburg since morning. He was very +poor. He did not tell us that; but he ordered nothing to +eat or drink, and except the draught of comfort that he got out +of my bottle, the poor fellow went supperless to bed. Not +altogether supperless though, for he had some smoke. We +made a snug little party in the corner, and talked, smoked, and +comforted ourselves, after the children had been put to bed, and +while the landlord, landlady, and an old grandfather told stories +to each other in Low German by the fire. At nine +o’clock the landlord lighted his lantern, and told us +bluffly that we might go to bed. We therefore, having +handed him our papers—passports and wander-books—for +his security and for our own, followed into the barn. That +was a place large enough to hold straw for a regiment of +soldiers. It was a continuation of the dwelling-house, +sheltered under the same roof. We mounted three rude +ladders, and so got from floor to floor into the loft. +Having guided us safely thither, he quitted us at once with a +“good night;” taking his lantern with him, and +leaving us to make our beds in the thick darkness as we +could. The straw was not straw: it was short-cut hay, old +enough to have lost all scent of hay, and to have acquired some +other scents less pleasing to the nose; hay, trodden, pressed, +and matted down, without a vestige in it of its ancient +elasticity. There was nothing in it to remind us of a +summer tumble on the hay-cock. The barn roof was open, and +the March night wind whistled over us. I took off my boots +to ease my swollen feet; took my coat off that I might spread it +over my chest as a counterpane; and struggled in vain to work a +hole for my feet into the hard knotted bank of hay. So I +spent the night, just so much not asleep that I was always +conscious, dimly, of the snoring of the baker, and awoke +sometimes to wonder what the landlord’s cock had supped +upon, for it was continually crowing in its sleep, on the +barn-floor below. When morning broke we rose and had a +brisk wash at the pump, scraped the mud from our boots, and +breakfasted. The baker and I had plain dry bread and hot +coffee. The tinman breakfasted on milk. He said it +was better—poor fellow! he knew it was cheaper. By +<!-- page 40--><a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +40</span>seven o’clock we were all afoot again, the baker +journeying to Hamburg, the tinman and I road-companions to +Lübeck.</p> +<p>At noon, after a five hours’ walk, a pleasant roadside +inn with a deep gable roof and snug curtains behind its lattice +windows, tempted me to rest and dine. “We shall get a +good dinner here,” I said; “let us go +in.” The tinman would hear of no such thing. +“We must get on to Lübeck,” he replied. +“Two more hours of steady walking and we shall be +there.” Poor youth! At Lübeck he could +demand a dinner at his herberge, and he had no chance of any +other. So we trudged on till the tall turrets and steeples +of Lübeck rose on the horizon. The tinman desired to +know what my intentions were. Was I going straight on to +Berlin without working? Should I seek work at +Lübeck? If not, of course I would take the +<i>viaticum</i>. “I thought not,” I told +him. “Ah, then,” he said, “you have some +money.” The viaticum is the tramp-money that may be +claimed from his guild by the travelling workman. Germans, +like other people, like to take pills gilded, and so they cloak +the awkward incident of poverty under a Latin name.</p> +<p>Lübeck being in sight we sat down upon a grassy bank to +make our toilet. A tramp’s knapsack always has little +pouches at the side for soap, brushes, and blacking. We +were not so near to the tall steeples as we thought, and it took +us a good hour and a half before we reached the city gates. +The approaches are through pretty avenues of young trees and +ornamental flower-plots. The town entrance at which we +arrived was simply a double iron gate, like a park gate in +England. As we were about to pass in, the sentinel beckoned +and pointed us towards a little whitened watchbox, at which we +stopped to hand our papers through a pigeon-hole. In a few +minutes the police officer came out, handed to me my passport +with great politeness, and in a sharp voice bade the tinman +follow him. Such is the difference between a passport and a +wander-book. I, owner of a passport, might go whither I +would: tinman, carrying a wander-book, was marched off by the +police to his appointed house of call. I took full +advantage of my liberty, and, as became a weary young man with +two gold ducats in his fob, went to recruit my strength with the +best dinner I could get. Having taken off my knapsack and +my blouse, I soon, therefore, was indulging in a lounge upon the +sofa of one of the best hotels in the sleepy and old-fashioned +free city of Lübeck.</p> +<h2><!-- page 41--><a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +41</span>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">lübeck to +berlin</span>.</p> +<p>By right of churches full of relics, antique buildings, and +places curiously named, Lübeck is, no doubt, a jewel of a +town to antiquarians. Its streets are badly paved, but +infinitely cleaner than the streets of Hamburg. I did not +much wonder at that, for I saw no people out of doors to make +them dirty, when I exposed myself to notice from within doors as +a solitary pedestrian, upon my way to take a letter to a +goldsmith in the market place. The market place is a kind +of exchange; a square building with an open court in the centre, +around which there is a covered way roofed quaintly with carved +timbers. In this building the mechanical trades of +Lübeck are collected, each trade occupying a space +exclusively its own under the colonnade. Here, all the +tradesmen are compelled to work, but are not permitted to +reside. Each master has his tiny shop-front with a trifling +show of goods exposed in it, and his small workshop behind, in +which, at most, two or three men can be employed. In some +odd little nooks the doors of these boxes are so arranged, that +two masters cannot go out of adjoining premises at the same time +without collision.</p> +<p>Though my friend in Lübeck was a stranger, as a brother +jeweller he gave me friendly welcome. Having inquired into +my resources, he said, “You must take the +<i>viaticum</i>.”—“It is like begging,” I +answered.—“Nonsense,” he replied; “you +pay for it when you are in work, and have a right to it when +travelling.”—“But I might find employment, on +inquiry.”—“Do not be alarmed, my friend; there +is not a job to be done in the whole city.” I was +forced, therefore, by my friend’s good-natured earnestness, +to make the usual demand throughout the little group of +goldsmiths, and having thus satisfied the form, I was conducted +to our Guild alderman and treasurer. A little quiet +conversation passed between them, and the cash-box was then +emptied out into my hand; <!-- page 42--><a +name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 42</span>it contained +twenty-eight Hamburg shillings, equal to two shillings in English +money.</p> +<p>I returned to my hotel and slept in a good bed that +night. The morning broke heavily, and promised a +day’s rain. Through the lowering weather and the +dismal streets I went to the police office to get my passport +<i>viséd</i> for Schwerin in Mecklenburg. Most +dismal streets! The Lübeckers were complaining of loss +of trade, and yearned for a railway from Lübeck to +Hamburg. But the line would run through a corner of +Holstein, and no such thing would be tolerated by the Duke. +The Lübeckers wanted the Russian traffic to come through +their town and on to Hamburg by rail. The Duke of Holstein +wished to bring it through his little port of Kiel upon the +Baltic.</p> +<p>Too poor to loiter on the road, having got my passport +<i>viséd</i>, I again strapped the knapsack to my back, +and set out through the long avenues of trees over the long, wet +road, through bitter wind and driving rain. Soaked with +rain, and shivering with cold, I entered the village of +Schöneberg at two o’clock, just after the rain had +ceased, as deplorable a figure as a man commonly presents when +all the vigour has been washed out of his face, and his clothes +hang limp and damp about his body. Wearied to death, I +halted at the door of an inn, but was told +inhospitably—miserable tramp as I seemed, and +was—that “I could go to the next house.” +At the next house they again refused me, already humbled, and +advised me to go to The Tall Grenadier. That is a house of +call for masons. I went to it, and was received there +hospitably. My knapsack being waterproof, I could put on +dry clothes, and hang my wet garments round the stove, while the +uproarious masons—terrible men for beer and +music—comforted me with unending joviality. They got +into their hands a book of German songs that dropped out of my +knapsack, and having appointed a reader, set him upon the table +to declaim them. Presently, another jolly mason cried out +over a drinking song—declaimed among the others in a loud +monotonous bawl—“I know that song;” and having +hemmed and tuned his voice a little, broke out into music with +tremendous power. The example warmed the others; they began +to look out songs with choruses, and so continued singing to the +praise of wine and beauty out of my book, until they were warned +home by the host. I climbed a ladder to <!-- page 43--><a +name="page43"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 43</span>my bedroom, +and slept well. The Grenadier was not an expensive hotel, +for in the morning when I paid my bill for bed and breakfast, I +found that the accommodation cost me fourpence-halfpenny.</p> +<p>Since it is my desire not to fatigue the reader of this +uneventful narrative, but simply to illustrate by a few notes +drawn from my own experience the life of a German workman on the +tramp, I shall now pass over a portion of the road between +Hamburg and Berlin in silence. My way lay through Schwerin; +from Schöneberg to Schwerin is twenty-six English miles, and +we find it a long way. In reckoning distances, the Germans +count by “stunden”—<i>i.e.</i> hours—and +two “stunden” make one German mile. From +experience, I should say that five miles English were about equal +to one mile German; but they vary considerably. Having +spent a night in the exceedingly neat city of Schwerin beside its +pleasant waters, and under the protection of the cannon in the +antiquated castle overhead, I set out for a walk of twenty miles +onward to Ludwigslust. The road was a pleasant one, firm +and dry, with trim grass edgings and sylvan seats on either +side. The country itself was flat and dull, enlivened only +now and then by a fir plantation or a pretty village. +Brother tramps passed me from time to time with a cheerful +salutation, and at three o’clock I passed within the new +brick walls of Ludwigslust; a town dignified as a pleasure seat +with a military garrison, a ducal palace, and an English +park.</p> +<p>The inn to which I went in Ludwigslust, was the house of call +for carpenters. The carpenters were there assembled in +great force, laughing, smoking, and enjoying their red wine, +which may have come from France, for Mecklenburg is no wine +country. It was the quarter-day and pay-day of the +carpenters, who were about to celebrate the date as usual with a +supper. I went to sit down in the small travellers’ +room, and was assailed instantly by the whole army of joiners, +some with bleared eyes; with flushed faces under caps of every +shape and colour; and a flexible pipe hanging from every +mouth—Who was I?—What was I?—Whence did I +come?—Where was I born? and whither was I going? etc., +etc. When they had found out all about me and confirmed +their knowledge by examination of my passport, which one dull dog +persisted in regarding as a book of ballads, out of which he +sang, I began to ask concerning food. “Nothing warm +in the house,” said the housefather, a carpenter +himself. “There will be a grand supper at six <!-- +page 44--><a name="page44"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +44</span>o’clock, and everything and everybody is wanted in +the preparation of it. Make yourself easy for the present +with brown bread and dripping, and a glass of beer, and then you +can make your dinner with us when we sup.” That +suited me well enough.</p> +<p>The carpenters flowed out into the street, to take a stroll +and get their appetites, leaving behind them one besotted man, +who propped himself against the oven, and there gave himself a +lecture on the blessings of equanimity under all circumstances of +distress.</p> +<p>“Do you sleep here to-night?” inquired the +host. Certainly, I desired to do so. “Then you +must go to the police bureau for a +permission.”—“But you have my passport; is not +that sufficient?”—“Not in Ludwigslust; your +passport must be held by the police, and they will give you in +exchange for it a ticket, which I must hold, or else I dare not +let you have a lodging.” I went to the police office +at once; through the ill-paved street into the middle of the +town. I went by a large gravelled square, which serves as a +riding ground for the cavalry in the adjoining barracks; and a +long broad street of no great beauty, ending in a flight of +steps, led me then to the police office, and would have led me +also, had that been my destination, to the ducal palace. +The palace fronts to a paved square; it is a massive, noble +edifice of stone, having before it a fine cascade with a treble +fall. To the left, across a green meadow, I observed the +church—the only church—a simple whitewashed building +with a colonnaded front. At the foot of the low flight of +steps was the police office, in which I found one man, who +civilly copied my passport into a book, put it aside, and gave me +a ticket of permission to remain one night in Ludwigslust. +I was desired to call for my passport before leaving in the +morning.</p> +<p>At seven o’clock there was no sign of supper. At +eight o’clock the cloth was spread in a long, low +lumber-room at the back of the inn, and the assembled carpenters +took their seats before the board, or rather boards supported +upon tressels. I took my place and waited hungrily. +Very soon there was a great steam over the whole table sent up +from huge tureens of boiled potatoes; smaller dishes of preserved +prunes, boiled also, occupied the intervals. A bottle of +red wine was placed for every two men. We then began our +meal with soup; thin, sorry stuff. Then came the chief +dishes, baked veal and baked pig’s head. The prunes +were to be eaten with the veal, which meat, having been first +boiled to make the soup, and then baked in a deep dish in a close +oven to bring out some of the <!-- page 45--><a +name="page45"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 45</span>faded +flavour, was a sodden mass, and the whole meal was removed a very +long way from the roast fillet of veal and pickled pork known to +an Englishman. Our pig’s head was, however, +capital,—no soup had been made out of that. The +carpenters, with assiduous kindness, heaped choice bits upon my +plate, and as I had not dined, I supped with energy. The +drunken man who had fallen asleep by the stove sat by my side +with greedy looks, eating nothing, for he had not paid his share; +he was a man who drank away his gains, and he received no +pity.</p> +<p>Then after supper there came toasts. The president was +on his legs, all glasses were filled; men ready. +“Long live the Guild of carpenters! Vivat +h—o!” The ho! was a howl; the glasses clashed. +“Long live all carpenters! Vivat +ho—o!” At ten o’clock there was a bustle +and confusion at the door, and a long string of lads marched, two +and two, cap in hand, into the room. These were all the +carpenters’ apprentices in Ludwigslust. Every +quarterly night the hospitable carpenters have them in after +supper to be regaled with beer and cordials, and initiated into +the mysteries of jollity that are connected with the existence of +a master carpenter. “Long live all carpenters’ +apprentices! Vivat ho—o—o!” The +apprentices having revelled in as much beer and spirits as could +be got through, shouting included, in a quarter of an hour, +formed double line again, and marched out under a fire of lusty +cheers into the street. Some jolly carpenters still +lingered in the supper room, smoking or singing choruses, or +making partners of each other for mad waltzes round the table to +the music of their tongues.</p> +<p>Longing for bed, I was obliged to wait until the landlord was +at leisure to attend to me. After I rose next morning, I +waited for three hours impatiently enough until the sleepy host +had risen; for until I had received my ticket back from him I was +unable to get my passport and go on. At length, however, I +got out of the brick walls of Ludwigslust, and marched forward +under a clear sky on the way to Perleberg, my next stage, distant +about fifteen English miles.</p> +<p>Having passed through two dirty, ill-paved towns, and being in +some uncertainty about the road, I asked my way of a short, +red-faced man who, being himself bound for the frontier station, +favoured me so far with his company. He was a post-boy +whose vocation was destroyed, but who was nevertheless blessed +with <!-- page 46--><a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +46</span>philosophy enough to recognise the merits of the railway +system, and to point out the posts marking the line between +Berlin and Hamburg, with the comment that “the world must +move.” It seemed to be enough for him that he lived +in the recollection of the people on his old road-side, and that +he could stop with me outside a toll-gate, the first I had seen +in Germany, sure of the production of a bottle for a social dram, +in which I cordially joined. Then presently we came to a +small newly-built village, the Prussian military station. A +sentinel standing silent and alone by his sentry box striped with +the Prussian colours, black and white, marked where the road +crossed the Prussian frontier. We passed unchallenged, and +found dinner upon the territory of the Black Eagle, in a very +modest house of entertainment.</p> +<p>Travelling alone onward to Perleberg, I stopped once more for +refreshment at a melancholy, dirty place, having one common room, +of which the chairs and tables contained as much heavy timber as +would build a house. I wanted an hour’s rest, for my +knapsack had become a burden to me, and the handles of the few +tools I was obliged to carry dug themselves relentlessly into my +back. “White or brown beer?” asked the +attendant. Dolt that I was to answer Brown! They +brought me a vile treacley compound that I could not drink; +whereas the Berlin white beer is a famous effervescing liquor; so +good, says a Berliner, that you cannot distinguish it from +champagne if you drink it rapidly with closed eyes, and at the +same time press your nose between your fingers. In the +evening I got to Perleberg, and walking wearily up the old, +irregular High Street, established myself at the Londoner +Schenke—the London Tavern. I found the parlour +pleasant and almost private, the hostess quiet and +lady-like. While she was getting coffee ready for me, I +paid my call of duty upon the police; for though my passport had +been <i>viséd</i> to Berlin in half a dozen places, the +law required that I should not sleep in a new kingdom without +first announcing my arrival.</p> +<p>At the upper end of the market place I found a red brick +building with a gloomy door, opening upon a broad stone +staircase, by which I mounted to the magistrate’s +room. That was a lofty hall, badly lighted by two little +windows, and scantily furnished with a few seats. Behind a +railing sat the magistrate in a velvet skull-cap and black robe; +a short fat man with a satisfied face, but unsatisfied and +restless eyes. Two armed soldiers shared with him the space +beyond the rail. Two townsmen, hat in hand, were patiently +<!-- page 47--><a name="page47"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +47</span>waiting for their passes. Having mentioned my +business, I was told that I might wait; standing, of +course. The heavy quiet of the room was broken presently by +the entrance of two young workmen in clean blouses, bound upon an +errand like my own, who hovered in a tremulous condition near the +doorway.</p> +<p>The magistrate of Perleberg, after awhile, looked at my +passport, and asked “Have you the requisite amount of +travelling money to show?” I had not expected such a +question, but the two gold ducats were still in my fob, and I +produced them with the air of a fine gentleman. One of the +soldiers took them in his hand, examined them and passed them to +his comrade, who passed them to the townspeople. +“They are good,” said the soldier, as he put them +back into my hand.—“Is that enough?” I asked, +as though there had been thousands of such things about other +parts of my person, for I saw that I had made an +impression. “That will do,” said the +magistrate, “you may sit down.” O miserable +homage before wealth! They would not keep me standing.</p> +<p>It had grown dark, and a lighted candle had been placed upon +the desk of the chief magistrate, a most diligent man in his +office, who, seeing no description of my person in the passport, +set to work with the zest of an artist upon the depiction of my +features. Examining each feature minutely with a candle, he +put down the results of his researches, and then finally read off +his work to me with this note at the bottom—“The +little finger of his left hand is crooked.”</p> +<p>The hostess of the London Tavern, when I got back to my +quarters, must have heard about my wealth. That pleasant +little maiden lady told me all about her house, and how it had +been named afresh after the King of Prussia slept there on his +way to London, where he was to act as sponsor to the Prince of +Wales. I, who had been turned away from the doors of the +humblest inns, was flattered and courted by a landlady who had +entertained His Majesty of Prussia. The neatest of +chambermaids conducted me to an elegant +bedchamber—“her own room,” the little old maid +had said as I left her—and there I slept upon the couch +sacred to her maiden meditations, among hangings white as +snow.</p> +<p>The next morning I went out into Perleberg,—a ricketty +old place, full of rats and legends. There is a colossal +figure in the market-place of an armed knight, eighteen or twenty +feet high, gazing eternally into the fruit baskets below. +He has his head uncovered, his hand upon his sword, and is made +of stone; but who he <!-- page 48--><a name="page48"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 48</span>is nobody seemed to know; I was only +told that the statue would turn any one to stone who fixed his +eyes upon it in intense gaze for a sufficiently long time. +I visited the chief jeweller, a wonderful man, who was said to +have visited nearly all parts of the known world except London +and Paris. I found him with one workman, very busy, but not +doing much; and he was very civil, although manifestly labouring +under the fear that I had come to ask for a +“<i>viaticum</i>.” I did not. I went back +to eat a hearty breakfast at the London Tavern, where I found the +mistress gracious, and the handmaid very chatty and +coquettish. From her talk I half concluded that I was +believed to be an Englishman who travelled like a journeyman for +the humour of the thing: the English are so odd, and at the +London Tavern they had not been without experience of English +ways. My display of the gold pieces must have been +communicated to them overnight, by one of the townspeople who +heard me tell the magistrate at what inn I was staying.</p> +<p>From Perleberg to Keritz was eighteen miles. Upon the +road I came up with a poor fellow limping pitiably. He had +a flat wooden box upon his back, being a tramping glazier; and he +made snail’s progress, having his left thigh swollen by +much walking. I loitered with him as long as my time +allowed, and then dashed on to recover the lost ground. +Passing at a great pace a neat road-side inn, singing the while, +a jolly red face blazed out upon me from the lattice +window. “Ei da! You are merry. Whither so +fast?”—“To Berlin.”—“Wait an +instant and I’m with you.” Two odd figures +tumbled almost at the end of the instant out of the house +door. One a burly man with a red face and a large +moustache, the other a chalky young man with a pair of Wellington +boots slung round his neck. They were both native Prussians +on the way from Hamburg to Berlin, having come through Magdeburg, +travelling, they declared, at the rate of about six-and-twenty +English miles a day. These Prussians will talk; but at +whatever rate my friends might have travelled, they were nearly +dead beat. They had sent on their knapsacks by the waggon, +finding them unmercifully heavy. The stout traveller had a +white sack over his shoulders, his trousers tucked up to his +knees, and his Wellington boots cut down into ankle-jacks to ease +his chafed shins, that were already dotted with hectic red spots +from over-exertion. His young friend carried his best +Wellingtons about his neck, and wore a pair of cracked boots, +through which I could see the colour, in some places, <!-- page +49--><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>of +his dark blue socks, in other places of his dark red flesh. +Both were lamed by the same cause, inflammation of the front of +the leg, in which part I also had begun to feel some +smartings.</p> +<p>We got on merrily, in spite of our legs, and overtook two very +young travellers, whom I recognised as the flutterers before the +presence of the magistrate at Perleberg. One proved to be a +bookbinder, the other a wood-turner. They were fresh upon +their travels, and their clean white blouses, the arrangements of +their knapsacks, and the little neatnesses and comforts here and +there about them, showed that they had not yet travelled many +days’ march from a mother’s care. Then we +toiled on, until our elder friend grew worse and worse about his +feet, laughing and joking himself out of pain as he was +able. Finally, he could go no farther, and we waited until +we could send him forward in a passing cart.</p> +<p>He being dispatched, we travelled on, I and my friend with the +boot-necklace, till we met a little crowd of men in blouses, +little queer caps, knapsacks, and ragged beards, all carrying +sticks. They were travelling boys like ourselves, bound +from Berlin to Hamburg. “Halloo!” they +cried. “Halloo!” we answered, shouting in +unison as we approached each other. When we met, a little +friendly skirmish with our sticks was the first act of +greeting. A storm of questions and replies then +followed. We all knew each other in a few minutes; +carpenters, turners, glovers were there,—not a jeweller +among them but myself. We parted soon, for time was +precious. “Love to Berlin,” cried one of them +back to us. “My compliments to Hamburg,” I +replied; and then we all struck up an amatory chorus of the +“Fare thee well, love” species, that fitted properly +with our position.</p> +<p>Continuing upon our way we found our lame companion smoking a +pipe comfortably outside the village inn at Warnow. His +cart was resting there for bait to man and horse. We baited +also and discussed black bread-and-butter, and Berlin white beer, +till the cart carried away our moustachioed friend, never again, +perhaps, to meet us in this world, and not likely to be +recognised by his moustachios in the other.</p> +<p>My chalky comrade, who was also very lame, lay on the ground +in a desperate condition before the day was over, and it was with +some difficulty that I brought him safe by nightfall into +Wusterhausen. He had become also mysterious, and evidently +inquisitive <!-- page 50--><a name="page50"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 50</span>as to the state of my finances, +exhibiting on his own part hasty glimpses of a brass medal +wrapped up in fine wool, which he wished me to look upon as a +double ducat. When we got to the inn-door, my friend made a +hurried proposition very nervously, which made his purpose +clear. There were sixty English miles of road between us +and Berlin; he was knocked up, and a fast coach, or rumbling +omnibus, accommodating six insides, would start for Berlin in the +morning. He thought he could bargain with the coachman to +take us to Berlin for a dollar—three shillings—a +piece, if I did not mind advancing his fare, because he did not +want to change the double ducat until he got home. I put no +difficulty in his way, for he was a good fellow, and moreover +would be well able to help me in return, by telling me the +addresses of some people I depended upon finding in Berlin. +He proceeded, therefore, into the agonies of bargaining, and was +not disappointed in his expectation. At the price of a +dollar a-piece we were packed next morning in a frowsy vehicle, +tainted with much tobacco-smoke, to which he came with his +swollen feet pressed only half-way down into the legs of his best +Wellingtons. The ride was long and dull, for there was +little prospect to be caught through the small, dirty window; and +the air tasted of German tinder. From a cottage villa on +the roadside, a German student added himself to the three +passengers that started from Wusterhausen. He came to us +with a pipe in his mouth, unwashed, and hurriedly swaddled in a +morning gown, carelessly tied with a cord about the middle. +After a few miles travelling the vehicle was full, and remained +full—until we at last reached Berlin.</p> +<p>There I found no work, and wandered listlessly through the +museums and picture-galleries; for a troubled mind is a poor +critic in works of art. So I squeezed myself into the +Police Court, meaning to leave Berlin, and had the distinction of +being beckoned, before my turn out of the reeking mass of +applicants for passports, because my clothes had a respectable +appearance, and I wore a showy pin in my cravat.</p> +<h2><!-- page 51--><a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +51</span>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">berlin</span>.—<span +class="smcap">our herberge</span>.</p> +<p>Fairly in Prussia! We have passed the frontier town of +Perleberg, and press onward in company with a glovemaker of +Berlin, last from Copenhagen, whom we have overtaken on the road +towards Wusterhausen.</p> +<p>“Thou wouldst know, good friend, the nature of my +prospects in Berlin when I arrive there? Have I letters of +recommendation—am I provided in case of the worst? +Brother, not so! I am provided for nothing. I dare +the vicissitudes of fortune. I had a friend in Hamburg, a +Frenchman, who departed thence five months ago for Berlin, under +a promise to write to me at the lapse of a month. He has +never written, and he is my hope. That is all. Let us +go on.”</p> +<p>“I have a cousin,” says the glovemaker, “who +is a jeweller in Berlin. I will recommend you to him. +His name is Kupferkram.”</p> +<p>“Strange! I knew a Kupferkram in Hamburg; a short, +sallow man, with no beard.”</p> +<p>“A Prussian?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“It cannot be that my cousin was in Hamburg and I not +know it. I was there twelve months.”</p> +<p>“Why not? A German will be anywhere in the course +of twelve months except where you expect to find him.”</p> +<p>“His name is Gottlob—Gottlob +Kupferkram.”</p> +<p>“The very man! Does he not lisp like a child, and +his father sell sausages in the stadt?”</p> +<p>“Donnerwetter! Ja!”</p> +<p>This may not appear to be of much importance, but to me it is +everything; for upon the discovery of this vender of sausages +depends my meeting with my best and only friend in Berlin, +Alcibiade Tourniquet, of Argenteuil, the Frenchman before +mentioned. It is at least a strange coincidence.</p> +<p><!-- page 52--><a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +52</span>We came into the capital of Prussia in the eil-wagen +from Wusterhausen. We had tramped the previous day a +distance of good two-and-thirty English miles, through a flat, +uninteresting country, and being dead beat, had made an anxious +bargain with the driver of the “Fast-coach,” to carry +us to Berlin for a dollar a-head. It was late in the +evening as we rumbled heavily along the dusty road, and through +the long vista of thick plantations which skirt the public way as +you enter the city from Spandau. We dismounted, cramped and +weary, from our vehicle, and my companion, a native of Berlin, +unwilling to disturb his friends at that late hour, and in his +then travel-worn guise; and I myself being unknown and unknowing +in the huge capital, led the way at once to “Our +Herberge.”</p> +<p>The English term “House of Call” is but an +inadequate translation of the German +“Herberge.” It must be remembered that the +German artisan is ruled in everything by the state; for while +English workmen, by their own collective will, raise up their +trade or other societies, in whatever form or to whatever purpose +their intelligence or their caprices may dictate to them, the +German, on the contrary, discovers among his very first +perceptions that his position and treatment in the world is +already fixed and irrevocable. He becomes numbered and +labelled from the hour of his birth, and the gathering items of +his existence are duly recorded—not in the annals of +history—but in the registry of the police. Thus he +finds that the State, in the shape of his Zunft or Guild, is his +Sick Benefit Club and his Burial Society, his Travellers’ +Fund and his Trade Roll-Call; aspires indeed to be everything he +ought to desire, and certainly succeeds in being a great deal +that he does not want.</p> +<p>I have a little paper at my hand presented to me by the police +of Dresden, which may help to elucidate the question of +associations of workmen in Germany. It is an +“Ordinance” by which “We, Frederick Augustus, +by God’s grace King of Saxony, &c., &c., make known +to all working journeymen the penalties to which they are liable +should they take part in any disallowed ‘workmen’s +unions, tribunals, or declarations;’” the said +penalties having been determined on by the various governments of +the German Union. “Independently,” says the +Ordinance, “of the punishment” (not named) +“which may be inflicted for the offence, the delinquent +shall be deprived of his papers, which shall be sealed up and +sent to his home Government. On his release from prison(!) +he shall <!-- page 53--><a name="page53"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 53</span>receive a restricted pass for his +immediate and direct return home; and on his arrival there he +shall be strictly confined within its limits, nor ever be +permitted to travel into the other states of the German Union, +until by a long course of repentance and good behaviour his home +government may think him worthy of such a favour.” It +will easily be understood from this that mechanics’ or +other institutions, independent of the government, are +unknown.</p> +<p>The German Herberge is the home of the travelling +workman. It should be clean and wholesome; there should he +be provided, together with simple and nutritious food, every +necessary information connected with his trade, and such aid and +reasonable solace as his often wearisome pilgrimage +requires. All this is to be rendered at a just and +remunerative price, and it is usually supposed that the +fulfilment of these requisites is guaranteed by the care and +surveillance of the police. But this is a fiction.</p> +<p>Our Herberge is in the Schuster-gasse; and a vile, +ill-conditioned, uncleanly den it is; nor, I am sorry to say, are +its occupants, in appearance at least, unworthy of their +abode. But we must not be uncharitable; it is a hard task +this tramping through the length and breadth of the land; and he +is a smart fellow who can keep his toilet in anything like decent +condition amid the dust, the wind, the pelting rain or the +weltering sunshine that beset and envelope him on the implacable +high road. As there is no help, we take our places among +the little herd of weary mortals without a murmur; among the +ragged beards and uncombed locks; the soiled blouses and +travel-worn shoe-leather; the horny hands and embrowned visages +of our motley companions. We are duly marshalled to bed at +eight o’clock with the rest; huddled into our loft where +nine beds await some sixteen occupants; and having undergone the +customary examination as to our freedom from disease and vermin, +are safely locked in our dormitory, to be released only at the +good will of the “Vater” in the morning.</p> +<p>Your German is truly a patient animal; the laws of his Guild +compel him to wander for a period of years, but the laws of his +country do not provide him with even the decencies of life upon +the road. With his humble pack, and his few hoarded +dollars, he sets forth upon the road of life; he is bullied and +hustled by the police upon every step of his journey; burdened +with vexatious regulations at every halting-place; and while the +law forbids him to seek any other shelter than that of his +Herberge, it leaves it to the <!-- page 54--><a +name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 54</span>mercy of his +host to yield him the worst fare, spread for him the vilest +litter, and to filch him of his scanty savings in the +bargain. What, in Heaven’s name! are the +accommodations for which we in the Schuster-gasse are called upon +to pay? There is the common room with its rude benches and +tables; a stone-paved court-yard with offices, doubtless at one +period appropriated as stabling, but the ground floor of which is +now penned off for some few choice biped occupants; while the +story above, reached by a railed ladder, and, in fact, no more +than a stable loft, is nightly crammed to the door with +sweltering humanity. For the purpose of cleanliness there +is no other toilette apparatus than the iron pump in the yard; +and for the claims of nature and decency, no better resource than +is afforded by the sheltering arch of the nearest bridge over the +Spree.</p> +<p>The goldsmiths and jewellers in Berlin are too inconsiderable +a body to have a Herberge of their own, and therefore we crowd in +with the turners, the carpenters, and the smiths; the +glove-makers, bookbinders, and others who claim the hospitalities +of the asylum in the Schuster-gasse. Let us take a sketch +or two among them that may serve as a sample of the whole.</p> +<p>We have a sturdy young carpenter from Darmstadt, bound to +Vienna, or wherever else he may find a resting-place, who makes +his morning and almost only meal of <i>Kümmel</i>—corn +spirit prepared with caraways—and brown bread; and whose +great exploit and daily exercise is that of lifting the great +table in the common room with his teeth. An iron-jawed +fellow he is, with every muscle in his well-knit body to +match. Fortunately, though a Goliath in strength, he is as +simple-minded and joyous as a child.</p> +<p>Then comes a restless pigmy of a Hungarian, a jeweller, last +from Dresden, full of life and song, but who complains ruefully +that the potatoes of Berlin are violently anti-dyspeptic. +This suffering wanderer from the banks of the Theiss is also +vehemently expressive in his opinion that the indiscriminate use +of soap is injurious to the skin, and, as a matter of principle, +never uses any.</p> +<p>Near him stands a lank native of Lübeck, a fringe-maker, +whose whole pride and happiness is concentrated in his ponderous +staff of pilgrimage; a patriarchal wand, indeed! rightly +bequeathed as an heirloom from father to son, and in its state +and appearance not unworthy of the reverence with which it is +regarded. It is no flimsy cane to startle flies with, but a +stout stem some six feet long, duly peeled, <!-- page 55--><a +name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 55</span>scraped and +polished, and mounted with a chased head of massive silver.</p> +<p>Close by his side an effeminate leather-dresser from Carlsruhe +sits stroking his yellow goat’s beard. Instead of +strapping his knapsack to his back like a stalwart youth, after +the manly fashion of his forefathers when on the tramp, he +trundles behind him as he goes, a little iron chaise loaded with +his pack and worldly equipage.</p> +<p>There broods a sombre cordwainer from Bremen, gloating over +his enormous pipe, in form and size like a small barrel, raising +an atmosphere for himself of the fumes of coarse uncut +<i>knaster</i>. He has doffed his white kittel (blouse), +and has wriggled himself into a short-waisted, long-skirted, +German frock-coat, which, having been badly packed in his +knapsack, exhibits every crease and wrinkle it has acquired +during a three weeks’ march. Know, friend, that the +skilful folding of apparel, to be worn on his arrival in every +important town, is one of the necessary acquirements of the +German wanderer.</p> +<p>Add to these a rollicking saddler from Heldesheim, who figures +in a full beard, a rich cluster of crisp, brown curls, his own +especial pride, and the object of deep envy to his less hirsute +companions; and who, far too fond of corn brandy-wine, goes about +singing continually the song of the German tramp, “<i>Ich +Liebe das liederliche Leben</i>!”—This vagabond life +I delight in!—an earnest, quiet student, who, for reasons +of economy, has made the Schuster-gasse his place of refuge; and +a dishevelled button-maker, last from Hamburg, who has just +received his geschenck, or trade-gift, amounting to fifteen +silver groschens, about eighteenpence in English money; and who +ponders drearily over it as it lies in the palm of his hand, +wondering how far this slender sum will carry him on the road to +Breslau, his native place, still some two hundred miles away.</p> +<p>We have among us the wily and the simple, the boisterous and +the patient, the taciturn and the unruly; but though they will +sing songs before they go to sleep, and swagger enormously among +themselves, they become as still and meek as doves at the voice +of the Herberges-Vater (the father of the Herberge), and quake +like timid mice beneath the eye of the police.</p> +<h2><!-- page 56--><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +56</span>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">a street in +berlin</span>.</p> +<p>Berlin is a fine city, let the wise Germans of the East say +what they will. It may be deficient in those monumental +records of “the good old times,” the crumbling +church, the thick-walled tower, the halls and dungeons of feudal +barbarism, but it abounds with evidences of the vigour and life +of modern taste and skill; and instead of daily sinking into +rotten significance, like some of its elder brethren, is hourly +growing in beauty and strength. It has all the attributes +of a great city—spacious “places,” handsome +edifices, broad and well-paved streets. Its monuments, +while they are evidences of great cultivation in the arts, tell +of times and events just old enough to be beyond the ken of our +own experiences, yet possess all the truth and vividness of +recent history. “Der Alter Fritz,” Blucher, +Zieten, Seyditz, Winterfeldt, Keith, and “Der Alter +Dessauer”—what names are these in Prussian story!</p> +<p>The entrance into Berlin, on the western side, from Spandau, +by the Brandenburger Gate, is the finest that the capital of +Prussia has to present. A thickly-planted wood skirts the +road for a mile or two before you reach the city. The trees +are dwarfed and twisted, for they cannot grow freely in the +dense, eternal sands of this part of North Germany, but they form +a rough fringing to the white road; while the noble gate itself, +built of massive stone in the Doric order of architecture, and +surmounted by an effective group of a four-horse chariot, within +which stands the figure of Victory raising the Roman eagle above +the almost winged steeds, might grace the entrance to the city of +the Cæsars.</p> +<p>This Brandenburger Thor, as it is called, is a copy of the +Propylæa of the Acropolis of Athens, but built on a much +grander scale. The central gate is of iron, eighteen feet +high; of the fourteen land gates of Berlin it is immeasurably the +finest, and it acquires a still deeper interest when some +enthusiastic Berliner, pointing to the prancing steeds upon the +summit of the arch, tells you how Napoleon in his admiration had +ordered this self-same group to be transported to <!-- page +57--><a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>Paris +in 1807, to ornament a French “<i>arch de +triomphe</i>,” and how “We, the Prussians,” had +torn the spoil from the eagle’s very nest in 1814, to +replant it on its original site. A glow of military ardour +flushes over your heart at the recital, and the echoes of a +hundred battles thunder in your ears.</p> +<p>Through this gate, which is in the Dorotheen Stadt, after +crossing the Square of Paris, we enter upon one of the handsomest +streets in the world, and one bearing the most poetical of +titles: “Unter-den-Linden,”—“Under the +Lime Trees!”—there is something at once charming and +imposing in the very sound. Nor is this appellation an +empty fiction, for there stand the lime trees themselves, in two +double rows with their delicate green leaves rustling in the +breeze, forming a two-fold verdant allée, vigorous and +fragrant, down the centre of the street, and into the very heart +of the city. Unter-den-Linden itself is two thousand seven +hundred and fifty-four feet in length, and one hundred and +seventy-four in width; but it extends, under another title, for a +much greater distance. This is the summer evening’s +ramble of your true Berliner, and not a little proud and pompous +he is as he parades himself and family beneath the leafy canopy; +and here, in the snowy winters, when the city lies half buried in +the snowdrift, the gaily dressed sleighs go skimming under the +leafless branches, filling the bright cold air with the music of +their bells.</p> +<p>As we proceed deeper into the city, we find gay shops and +stately houses. A noble range of buildings appropriated to +the foreign embassies rises upon the left hand, and is succeeded +by the Royal Academy; while some distance beyond stands the +University, an edifice of a rather sombre appearance, although +graced with columns and pilasters of the Corinthian order. +To enter it you traverse a spacious court-yard, and it may be +that the nature of its contents impart a melancholy character to +the building itself; for, on ascending its stone staircase, and +wandering for a brief period among its bottles and cases, its wax +models and human preserves, we find them of so unsightly and +disgusting a character that we are happy to regain the echoing +corridor which had led us into this huge, systematised +charnel-house.</p> +<p>As we cross to the opposite side of the broad street, the +Royal Library faces us; a massive temple of stored knowledge, +polyglot and universal; while to the right of it, in the centre +of a paved space of considerable extent, stands the Catholic +church of St. Hedwig, <!-- page 58--><a name="page58"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 58</span>at once a model of Roman +architecture, and the emblem of the liberty of faith.</p> +<p>Close at hand is the Opera-house, once already purified by +fire, like so many of its companion edifices, and only lately +rebuilt. Some idea may be formed of the extent of its +interior from the fact that it affords accommodation for three +thousand spectators. Our way lies onward still. What +noble figure is this? Simple but commanding in character +and attitude, it fixes your attention at once. Look at the +superscription. Upon a scroll on its pedestal are the words +“Frederick William III. to Field Marshal Prince Blucher of +Wahlstatt, in the year 1826.” Yes! the impetuous +soldier, figured in eternal bronze by the first sculptor of +Prussia, Rauch himself, here claims and receives the admiration +of his countrymen. Bare-headed stands the old warrior, but +is duly crowned with laurels on every returning anniversary of +the well remembered day, the 18th of June.</p> +<p>Leaving the sanctuary of the Christian Deity, the heathen +temple of Terpsichore, and the effigy of the renowned soldier, +thus grouped together, we traverse the fine road, and pause for a +moment to look at a severe but elegant structure, erected, we are +told, in exact imitation of a Roman <i>castrum</i>, or fortress, +and therefore eminently in character with the purpose for which +it is intended. The smart Prussian infantry are grouped +about its pillared entrance, which is graced also by two statues +of military celebrities—for this is the royal +guard-house.</p> +<p>“Der Alter Fritz.” “Old +Fred!” This is the familiar title bestowed upon a +great monarch; and there is something in this nickname a thousand +times more telling to the ear and heart of a Prussian than the +stately appellation of “Frederick the Great.” +The former is for their own hearts and homes, the latter for the +world. And for the world also is the noble equestrian +statue upon which we now gaze. It is a question whether a +work of sterling genius does not speak as effectively to the eye +of the uninitiated as to that of the most inveterate stickler for +antecedents of grace and technicalities of beauty. This +statue of Frederick of Prussia tells upon the sense at once, +because it is true to art as established by ancient critics, but +more so, because it is imitated nature, which art too often only +presumes to be, reckoning too much upon fixed rules and +time-honoured dogmas. It is noble and impressive, because +it <!-- page 59--><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +59</span>is <i>like</i>; no antiquated Roman figure in +<i>toga</i> and <i>calcei</i>, but the representation of the +living man.</p> +<p>Das Zeughaus, or arsenal, which we now approach, is a massive +quadrangular building, and the warlike character of its +architectural decorations strikingly indicate the nature of its +contents. We pass through the open gate into an inner +court, and looking round upon the sombre walls which inclose us, +see the fearful faces of dead and dying men, cut in stone, which +the taste or caprice of the architect has considered their +fittest ornament. There is something strangely original and +attractive in the grotesque hideousness of these heads, agonised +with pain, scowling in anger, or frightful with their upturned +eyes in the rigidity of death, all bleached and shadowed as they +are by the vicissitudes of the weather.</p> +<p>Within the arsenal we find walls of glistening steel, columns +of lances, architectural and other devices worked out in dagger +blades and pistol handles; while battered armour and faded +draperies, in the shape of pennons and standards, storm and +battle-tattered, help to make up trophies, and swing duskily in +every corner.</p> +<p>After a rapid survey, we are about to leave this magazine of +Bellona, when we are struck by the sight of an object which +reminds us so completely of one of those “gorgeous +processions” in Eastern “spectacles” at home, +that we wonder for a moment whether it be “part of the +play,” or tangible, sober reality. Yes! placed upon a +scarlet cushion lies an enormous gilt key (such a one as clown in +the pantomime might open his writing-desk with, or such as hangs +over a locksmith’s door), and above it glistens a golden +legend to the effect that the treasure beneath was presented to +“William of Prussia by his loving cousin, Nicolas, Emperor +of all the Russias,” and is no less a prize than the +identical key of the captured city of Adrianople! Has, +then, the Russian Emperor so many such trophies of Eastern +spoliation that his own museums at Petersburg are insufficient to +contain them?</p> +<p>Up the steep way towards the residence of the Prince of +Prussia, guarded by its zealous sentries, we pursue our course, +and reach the first bridge we have yet seen, being one of the +very many which span the Spree as it meanders through the +city. This river does not present an imposing appearance in +any part of Berlin. The Berliners may shake their heads, +and talk of the “Lange Brücke,” but let them +remember that in no part does the Spree exceed two hundred feet +in width. Moreover, the manner in which it is jammed <!-- +page 60--><a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +60</span>up between locks, like a mere canal—one is puzzled +sometimes to know which is canal and which river—does not +improve its appearance, while the use to which some of its +bridges are appropriated does not increase its purity. +Passing onwards we come upon the Schloss Platz, which is itself +half a garden, and find ourselves in the midst of an assemblage +of public wonders—the Museum, the Protestant Cathedral, a +handsome basin and fountain (the pride of the true Berliner), the +Exchange, and the Old Palace.</p> +<p>The Museum stands on the left-hand, gracefully shaded by young +trees. Traversing this miniature grove, which guards its +entrance, and passing by the lofty fountain scattering its spray +upon the leaves, we come upon an elegant vase of gigantic +proportions, sculptured from a solid mass of native +granite. Ascending into the body of the building by a +sombre stone staircase, we reach the Gallery of Antiquities and +the Museum of Paintings. The latter, though no doubt very +valuable, appeals unsatisfactorily to me (not presuming to be a +critic), and is of a peculiarly rigid, ecclesiastical character, +of the early school; certainly one of its chief features is a +crowd of martyred St. Sebastians.</p> +<p>The portion of the Museum appropriated to painting, unlike the +National Gallery of London, and the Pinakothek at Munich, +receives a lateral light. Imagine a long gallery divided +into small cabinets by partitions, which advance only so far from +the outer wall as to leave a commodious passage along its entire +extent; imagine also that each of these cabinets has a lofty +window, and that on its side walls (the partitions) are suspended +the paintings for exhibition,—and you will form something +like a notion of the general arrangement. An effective +<i>ensemble</i> is out of the question; but, on the other hand, +every painting is well lighted, and a better opportunity is +afforded for quiet observation and study.</p> +<p>We descend into the “Platz,” and proceed towards +the palace, a huge rectangular building, striped with columns, +dotted with windows, and blackened as few continental edifices +are.</p> +<p>The palace of the kings of Prussia—few as they have +been—has surely its thrilling historical records. +Doubtless; and through them all the spirit of the <i>one</i> +king, “Der Alter Fritz,” shines, all but +visible. Here did he hold his councils, here sit in private +study; this was his favourite promenade, here did he take his +rest. These details light up the imagination; but when we +have traversed the echoing galleries, admired the gilt mouldings +and the costly <!-- page 61--><a name="page61"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 61</span>hangings, the quaint furniture and +beautiful pictures: when we have, in short, become wrought into +enthusiasm by the clustering memories of a great monarch, by +traits and traditions which fill the very air, what do we see +next? We are ushered into a private chamber, and called +upon to express our especial reverence for a miserable figure, +dressed up in the Great Frederick’s “own +clothes;” seated in his own chair, stuck into his identical +boots; his own redoubtable stick dangling from its splayed +fingers, and the whole contemptible effigy crowned by the very +three-cornered hat and crisp wig he last wore! The spirit +of mountebankism overshadows the spirit of the mighty man, and +his very relics are rendered ridiculous.</p> +<p>We turn from this puppet-show to contemplate with a melancholy +wonder the truly iron records of the almost life-imprisonment of +Baron von Trenck. For here, a silent memorial of at least +one bad act of the Prussian monarch, are iron cups and utensils +engraved with scrolls and legends; the work, not of the skilled +artisan with tempered and well-prepared gravers, but of the +patient hands of a state prisoner with a mere nail sharpened on +the stony walls of his dungeon, and the painful result of long +and weary years. A strange contrast! the waxen image of the +jailer, tricked out in his last garments; the solitary labours of +his captive.</p> +<p>Thinking more of the soldier and less of the king, we quit the +palace and turn on the left hand once more towards the waters of +the Spree. Here is one other monument we must not forget in +our hasty ramble through the main artery of the Prussian +capital. In the centre of the Lange Brücke (the Long +Bridge) stands the bronze figure of the last Elector and Duke of +Brandenburg, Frederick William, the grandfather of Frederick the +Great. It is a well-executed equestrian statue, but to my +mind the four figures clustered round the pediment, on whose +hands still hang the broken chains of slavery, are better works +of art, as well as admirable emblems of the energetic +materials—the oppressed but spirited inhabitants of a few +small states—of which the now powerful kingdom of Prussia +was originally formed.</p> +<p>We might follow the course of the wandering river over whose +waters we now stand, and thus penetrate into the heart of the old +city, but we should find little that was picturesque, and a great +deal that was very unclean. Indeed, in spite of its general +beauty, Berlin is lamentably deficient in the modern and +common-place <!-- page 62--><a name="page62"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 62</span>article, sewerage. But even +this will come; and in the meantime we may well ponder over the +rapid growth of the city, since the brief space of time that has +elapsed since it was the little town of Cologne upon the Spree, +to distinguish it from the then greater one of Cologne upon the +Rhine.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">berlin</span>.—<span +class="smcap">police and people</span>.</p> +<p>It may not appear correct to an English reader to couple the +people and the police thus cavalierly together, but in Prussia, +as in the rest of Germany, the police are so completely bound up +in, and their services so entirely devoted to, the every-day +existence, as well as any more prominent acts of the people, that +it is impossible to proceed far with the one without falling into +the company of the other. A few facts may serve to +illustrate this point.</p> +<p>We (Alcibiade and I) are here duly received into the +employment of Herr Stickl, Jeweller to the Court. This may +appear a matter of no importance to any but ourselves; +nevertheless the “Herr” is bound duly to notify the +circumstance to the police, with date and certification, and must +also instruct the Forsteher, or chief of the Guild of goldsmiths +and jewellers, of the matter, that we may be properly registered +by corporation and police. This is item number one. +But I am still unhoused, and here my good friend and +fellow-workman, Alcibiade Tourniquet, native of Argenteuil, +stands me in good stead. Tourniquet claims to be a +Parisian, and has lofty notions about style and +appearances. He lives in Jerusalem Strasse in a grand +house, with a <i>porte cochère</i>, and a wide, scrambling +staircase. He offers me a share in his apartment, which is +light and commodious; and as his landlady generously consents to +provide an additional bed for my accommodation, on condition of +doubling the rent, that matter is satisfactorily arranged. +Alcibiade has experiences to relate, and this is one of them:</p> +<p>“Pense donc!” cries he. “I arrive in +Berlin a perfect stranger. Without work and without +friends, I find living at an hotel too expensive: Bon!—I +look about me for some quiet little chambre <!-- page 63--><a +name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>garni, and +finding one to my liking, up a great many stairs, genteelly +furnished, and not too dear, I move myself and my little baggage +into it without further inquiry. Bon! Imagine me on +the first night of residence, snugly coiled up between my two +feather beds in true German fashion, dreaming of la belle France, +and of the grapes at Argenteuil, when rap, rap, rap! comes a +tantamarre at the chamber door, and I start up wide awake all at +once, and hear a shuffling noise outside, and a rough voice which +calls to be admitted. ‘Diable! qu’est que tu +veux, donc?’ I inquire. But before I can make up my +mind whether to admit them or not, crack! goes the door, and half +a dozen Prussian police take my citadel by storm, and surround me +in a moment. I complain indignantly, but it is of no +use. I hurl at them—not my boots—but all the +hard words I know of in their own abominable language, together +with a considerable quantity of good French, but all of no avail; +for they make me dress myself and carry me off bodily with bag +and baggage to the police-bureau. And what was it all +about, pense tu? Just this: they said I had got into a +suspected house, and that it was for my own protection I was made +a prisoner of! Nom de Dieu! that might be all very well, +but there was no necessity to pull me out of bed to take care of +me; and it was not till I had shown that my papers were all <i>en +regle</i>, and threatened an appeal to the French Ambassador, +that they gave me these soft words, and expressed their regret at +my discomfiture. Du reste, what can you expect? they are +only Prussians.” This is item number two.</p> +<p>I too have a little experience of the Prussian Police; let me +relate it. Being regularly domiciled, it was necessary that +I should inform them of my residence. I stand within the +dingy little bureau, and hand over a certificate from my landlord +in proof of my place of habitation. The liveried +functionary casts it back to me, with the curt remark, “It +is imperfect, the year is omitted.” And so it is; and +I trudge back to my landlord to have this rather important +omission rectified. Returning, in haste, I re-present my +document, corrected and revised, for inspection. +“This won’t do,” exclaims the irate registrar +of apartments; “the day of the week should be +mentioned.” Dull-headed landlord! unlucky +lodger!—it should have been written, +“<i>Wednesday</i>, the 19th of,” etc. This +looks something like quibbling, however, and no doubt I express +as much by my countenance as I leave the bureau, and race back to +<!-- page 64--><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +64</span>Jerusalem Strasse once more. For the third time I +offer my credentials. “This will do,” observes +the official, with a ferocious calmness, “but I must have a +duplicate of this, for the convenience of entry and +reference.” Now, by all the gilded buttons on the +best coat of the British Ambassador, this is too bad! and I say +as much. “You have nothing of this sort in England, I +suppose?” sneers the clerk-policeman. “No, +thank Heaven!” I exclaim, as I rush home once more to +obtain the copy of my certificate. This is item the +third. To a Prussian, all this is a mere matter of course, +yet to such a degree does this home interference extend, that the +<i>porte cochère</i> of our grand house, and the door of +every other house in Jerusalem Strasse, is officially closed at +nine o’clock in the evening; and no man can enter his own +residence after that hour without first applying to the +police-watchman, who retains in his keeping, literally and in +fact, the “key of the street.”</p> +<p>While on my way to Berlin, I had been frequently warned by +Germans, natives of other states, of the boastful and deceptive +character of the Prussians. Such was the general opinion +expressed; and although I never found them deceptive, the epithet +of boastful seemed only too truthfully bestowed. A Prussian +is naturally a swaggerer; but then, unfortunately for other +Germans, who are swaggerers too, the Prussian has something to +boast of. He feels and thinks differently to those around +him; for, by the very impetus of his nature, he stands on a +higher position. It is because Prussia has progressed like +a giant, while the rest of Germany has been lagging behind, or +actually losing ground, that every individual in her now large +area seems personally to have aided in the work, and acts and +speaks as if the whole ultimate result depended upon his own +exertions. This naturally leads to exaggeration, both in +words and actions, and your true Berliner figures as a sort of +Ancient Pistol, with more words than he knows properly what to do +with, and more pretensions than he is able to maintain. One +striking characteristic of the people of Berlin is the +Franco-mania, which prevails among all classes. This may be +the result of the decided leaning towards France and its +literature, which was evinced by their almost idolised king, +Frederick the Great; but one would think that the events of the +last war with Napoleon must have effectually obliterated +that. But, no; in their language, their literature, their +places of public amusement, their shops, and promenades, French +words sound in your ears, or meet your eye at every <!-- page +65--><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 65</span>turn; +while the sometimes ridiculous mimicry of French habits forces +itself upon your attention. There would be nothing so very +remarkable in this, if the opinion generally expressed of the +French people were consonant with it; but while the Berliner apes +the Parisian in language and manners, he never fails to express +his derision, and even contempt, for the whole French nation on +every convenient opportunity. I suspect, however, that +these remarks might not inaptly apply to the inhabitants of the +British capital, as well as those of Berlin.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span +class="smcap">kreutzberg</span>.—<span class="smcap">a +prussian supper and carouse</span>.</p> +<p>Herr Kupferkram the elder, I have done thee wrong. I +have set thee down as a mere vender of sausages, and lo! thou +holdest tavern and eating-house; dispensing prandial portions of +savoury delicacies in flesh and vegetable, at the charge of six +silver groschens the meal. I beg a thousand pardons; and as +a sincere mark of contrition, will consent to swallow thy dinners +for a while.</p> +<p>“Will the Herrn Tourniquet and Tuci,” said the +Frau Kupferkram one morning, with a duck and a smirk, “do +us the honour of supping with us this evening? There will +be a few friends, for this is the ‘nahmenstag’ of our +dear Gottlob, now in England.”</p> +<p>“Liebe Frau Kupferkram, we shall be +delighted!”</p> +<p>I ought, perhaps, to observe, that in Prussia, although a +Protestant country, the Catholic custom of commemorating the +“saint” rather than the “birth-day,” is +almost universal. The former is called the +“nahmenstag,” or name-day.</p> +<p>But the day is yet “so young,” that nothing short +of the most inveterate gluttony could bend the mind at present +upon the evening’s festivity; and moreover, the Berlin +races have called us from the workshop and the cares of labour, +and our very souls are in the stirrups, eagerly panting for the +sport. My dear reader, how can I describe what I never +saw? Did we not expend two silver groschens in a programme +of the races, and gloat over the spirited <!-- page 66--><a +name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>engraving of +a “flying” something, which was its appropriate +heading, and which you would swear was executed somewhere in the +neighbourhood of Holywell Street, Strand? Did we not grow +hotter than even the hot sun could make us, in ploughing through +the sand, and commit some careless uncivilities in struggling +among the crowd that hemmed the course as with a wall? +See? Of course not! Nobody at the Berlin races ever +does see anything but the mounted police and the dust. Yes, +sir, lay out two dollars in a “card” for the grand +stand, and fix it in your hat-band like a turnpike ticket, and +you may saunter through the whole police-military cordon; but be +one of the crowd, and trust to no other aid than is afforded by +your own eyes, and the said cordon will be the extent of your +vision.</p> +<p>A fig for the races! we will go and see the Kreutzberg +instead. Our way lies through the Halle gate—Halle, a +town that belonged to the Saxons before the French invasion, but +lost through their adherence to Napoleon, is now the seat of a +Prussian university—and by the Place of the Belle +Alliance. What “alliance?” The alliance +of sovereigns against destruction, or of people against +tyranny? One and both; but while the union of the former +has triumphed over the common leveller, the latter, by whose aid +it was effected, still drag their unrelenting chains. The +Kreutzberg is consecrated to the same magniloquent union, and +bears upon its head a military monument illustrative of the +triumph of a roused and indignant people against a great +oppression; but alas! it does not record the emancipation of that +same people from intestine slavery. But that is their +business and not ours.</p> +<p>The Kreutzberg stands about a mile and a half from the city +gates, and rears its grey height like a mountain amid the general +level, commanding a prospect of thirty miles around. +Berlin, half garden, half palace, lies at your feet, rising +majestically from the sandy plain, and irregularly divided by the +winding Spree. The surrounding country, by its luxuriance, +gives evidence of the energy of an industrious race struggling +against a naturally barren soil. Turning our eyes upwards +upon the military monument which graces the summit of the hill, +we cannot repress our gratification at its beauty. A +terrace eighty feet in diameter rises from the bare ground, and +in its centre, upon a substructure of stone, towers an iron +temple or shrine in the turreted Gothic style, divided into +twelve chapels or niches. In each recess stands a figure, +life size, <!-- page 67--><a name="page67"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 67</span>emblematical of the principal battles +(defeats included) fought in the campaigns of 1813, 1814, and +1815. A noble cluster of idealised military heroism they +stand; some in the stubborn attitude of resistance, others in the +eager impetuosity of attack, all wonderfully spirited. When +you have warmed your imagination into a glow by the sight of +these effigies of war, read and ponder over this +inscription:—</p> +<p>“The Sovereign to his People, who at his summons +magnanimously poured forth their Blood and Treasure for the +Country. In Memory of the Fallen, in Gratitude to the +Living, as an Incitement to every future Generation.”</p> +<p>One is tempted to add, “and of sacred promises still +unfulfilled.” There is a beautiful garden and saloon +called the Tivoli, close at hand, and from our heroics we soon +slide into the peaceful enjoyment of a “baisser” and +a cup of coffee; lounging luxuriantly among the flowers till the +hour approaches for our departure.</p> +<p>We are a snug little party of a dozen, not including Herr +Kupferkram and the Frau, who will insist upon waiting on +us. There is the smug master-butcher from round the corner, +who has a very becoming sense of his own position in society; two +mild-spoken bookseller’s clerks, who scarcely find their +voices till the evening is far advanced; my friend and +fellow-tramp the glovemaker; a spruce little model of a man, with +the crispest hair, and the fullest and best trimmed moustache in +the world, and who is no doubt a great man somewhere; a +tremendous fellow of a student, who talks of cannon-boots, +rapiers, and Berliner Weiss Bier; and an individual whose only +distinguishing feature is his nose, and that is an insult to +polite society. The rest have no characteristics at +all.</p> +<p>But ah! shall I forget thee, the beautiful Louise!—the +affianced of Gottlob, the blonde, the coquettish, and the +gay! Have you not asked me, in half confidence (Alcibiade +being present), whether the German “<i>geliebte</i>,” +is not changed in English into “<i>süsses +herz</i>,” “sweet-heart,” as Gottlob had told +you in his last letter from London? And you think the +sentiment “so pretty and poetical!” And so it +is; but we dunderheads in England have used the word so often +that we have half forgotten its meaning.</p> +<p>Down we sit to supper; commencing with a delicate gravy soup +and liver fritters; following up with breaded pork-chops and red +saurkraut; continuing upon baked veal and prunes; not forgetting +the <i>entremets</i> of green pease and finely-sliced carrots +stewed in <!-- page 68--><a name="page68"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 68</span>butter together; going on with a +well-made sallad; and winding up with a syllabub and +preserves. Hah! Bread unlimited, and beer without +discretion. How can we sing after all that and yet we do, +and talk unceasingly. The tables are cleared; and, +accompanied by a beautiful tinkling of tiny bell-shaped glasses, +the china punch-bowl, odorous with its steaming orange fluid, is +placed at the head of the table. How the meek +bookseller’s clerks shine out! They are all voice +now. And we drink a “Lebe hoch!” to Gottlob far +away; and to Gottlob’s mother, and to Gottlob’s +father, chinking our glasses merrily every time, and draining +them after each draught on our thumb nails, to show how +faithfully we have honoured the toasts. We shout +“Vivat h-o-o-o;” till the old German oven quakes +again.</p> +<p>“Sing, fair Louise, I prithee sing!” Louise +is troubled with a cold, of course; and, after due persuasion, +lisps and murmurs some incoherent tremblings; exceedingly pretty, +no doubt, if we could only make out what they meant. Then +the student, who, although diminutive, has the voice of a giant, +shouts a university song with the Latin chorus:—</p> +<p class="poetry">“Edite, bebite, collegiales,<br /> +Post multa sæcula procula nulla!”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Eat ye then, drink ye then, social +companions,<br /> +Centuries hence and your cups are no more!”</p> +<p>The mildest of the clerks comes out well with Kotzebue’s +philosophical song:—</p> +<p class="poetry">“Es kann ja nicht immer so bleiben,<br /> +Hier unter den wechselnden Mond;<br /> +Es blüht eine Zeit und verwelket,<br /> +Was mit uns die Erde bewhont.”</p> +<p class="poetry">“It cannot remain thus for ever,<br /> + Here under the changeable moon;<br /> +For earthly things bloom but a season,<br /> + And wither away all too soon.”</p> +<p>The spruce gentleman with the crisp hair throws back his head, +and with closed eyes warbles melodiously:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Einsich bin ich nicht allein.”</p> +<p>“Alone I’m not in solitude.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p><!-- page 69--><a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +69</span>The butcher has forgotten his dignity, and joins +vigorously in every chorus. At this crisis Louise +gracefully retires, leaving us to our replenished bowl.</p> +<p>“My friends!” shouts the student, mounting on a +chair, “listen to me for a moment.” And then he +plunges into an eloquent discourse upon the beauties of +fraternity, and the union of nations, concluding his harangue by +proposing a “Lebe hoch” to Alcibiade and +myself. Alcibiade is decidedly the lion of the evening, and +bears his honours gracefully, like a well-tamed creature. +“Se sollen leben! Vivat ho—o!” it roars +in our ears, and amid its echoes we duly acknowledge the +compliment.</p> +<p>“That’s beautiful!” exclaims the student, +whose name, by the bye, is Pimblebeck. “And now grant +me one other favour. Thou Briton, and thou son of France, +let us drink brotherhood together. What say ye? Let +it be no longer ‘you’ and ‘yours’ between +us, but ‘thou’ and ‘thine.’” +Having reached the affectionate stage of exhilaration, we enter +at once into the spirit of the proposal, and each in his turn, +glass in hand, locking his arm in that of the enthusiastic +Pimblebeck, drinks eternal friendship: to love truly; to defend +valiantly; and to address each other by no other title than that +of “thou” and “thee” for the rest of our +lives.</p> +<p>I confess to a certain obliviousness here; a mental haze, amid +which the mingled airs of “Rule Britannia” and the +“Marsellaise” float indistinctly. But above +all, and through all, with terrible distinctness, tones the voice +of Pimblebeck; his boyish form dilated into the dimensions of a +Goliath, as he pours forth the words of a Prussian revolutionary +song, some few of which stand out in letters of fire in my memory +still, thus:—</p> +<p class="poetry">“Prinzen vom Land hinaus,<br /> +Denn kommt der Bürger Schmaus;<br /> + Aristokraten<br /> + Werden gebraten;<br /> +Fürsten and Pfaffen die werden gehangt!”</p> +<p class="poetry">“Drive out the prince and priest,<br /> +Then comes the burger’s feast;<br /> + Each aristocrat<br /> + Shall broil in his fat,<br /> +And nobles and bigoted bishops be hanged.”</p> +<h2><!-- page 70--><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +70</span>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">fair time at +leipsic</span>.</p> +<p>From Berlin to Leipsic by rail, in an open carriage, is not +the most interesting journey in the world. Whirr, whizz, +burr! away we hum through the keen Spring air, between pleasant +banks and dark fir-woods, not very rapidly indeed, for we travel +under government regulations, but pleasantly enough if it were +not for the sparks and the dust. There are few objects of +interest on our route, till we perceive the towers of Wittenberg +rising out of the hollow on the left, and we are at once buried +in a dream about the simple monk of Eisleben, who, in his +struggle against the papal authority, grew into the gigantic +proportions of a Luther.</p> +<p>At Köthen we change carriages, for we are on the Saxon +frontier. With a snort and a roar, we start upon our +journey over the dull waste, which can be described in no better +way than by the single word repeated: sand, sand, sand. And +now it comes on to rain, and my thin blouse is but a sorry shred +to withstand the cold, dead drizzle. By degrees the heavy +night clouds wrap themselves round us, fold by fold, till we see +the engine fire reflected on the ground like a flying meteor; and +the forms of lonely trees on the roadside come upon us suddenly, +like spectres out of the darkness.</p> +<p>“Have you a lodging for the night, friend?” +inquires a kind voice near me, speaking to my very thoughts.</p> +<p>“No. I am a stranger in Leipsic.”</p> +<p>“And your herberge?”</p> +<p>“I know nothing of it.”</p> +<p>The inquirer is a little man with a thin face, and a voice +which might be disagreeable, were it not mellowed by good +nature. He tells me, then, that he is a jewel-case maker, +and has no doubt that I shall find a ready shelter in the +herberge of his trade till the morning, if I am willing to accept +of it. It is in the Little Churchyard. In spite of +this ominous direction I shake the good man heartily by the hand, +and, although I lose him in the darkness and confusion of the +railway-station, cling mentally to the Little Churchyard as a +passport <!-- page 71--><a name="page71"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 71</span>to peace and rest. I +don’t know how it is that I escape interrogation by the +police, but once out of the turmoil of the crowd, I find myself +wandering by a deep ditch and the shadowy outline of a high wall, +seeking in vain amid the drizzling mist for one of the gates of +the city. When almost hopeless of success, a welcome voice +inquires my destination; and, under the guidance of a worthy +Saxon, I find myself in Kleine Kirche Hof at last. There is +the herberge in question, but with no light—welcoming +sign!—for it is already ten o’clock, and its guests +are all in bed. Dripping with rain, and with a rueful +aspect, I prefer my request for a lodging. The +“vater” looks dubiously at me out of the corner of +one eye, till, having inspected my passport, he brightens up a +little, and thinks he can find me a bed, but cannot break through +the rules of his house so far as to give me any supper. It +is too late.</p> +<p>Lighting a small lantern he leads the way across a stone-paved +yard, and, opening one leaf of the folding-doors of a stable at +its upper end, inducts me at once into the interior. It +also is paved with stones, is small, and is nearly choked up with +five or six bedsteads. The vater points to one which +happily is as yet untenanted, and says, “Now, make haste, +will you? I can’t stop here all night.” +Before I have time to scramble into bed we are already in +darkness, and no sooner is the door closed than my bed-fellows, +who seemed all fast asleep a moment before, open a rattling fire +of inquiries as to my parentage, birthplace, trade, and general +condition; and having satisfied all this amiable questioning we +fall asleep.</p> +<p>We turn our waking eyes upon a miserable glimmering which +finds its way through the wooden bars of our stable-door; but it +tells us of morning, of life, and of hope, and we rise with a +bound, and are as brisk as bees in our summary toilet. With +a dry crust of bread and a cup of coffee, we are fortified for +our morning’s work. I have a letter of introduction +upon Herr Herzlich of the Brühl, at the sign of the Golden +Horn, between the White Lamb and the Brass Candlestick. +Every house in Leipsic has its sign, and the numbers run +uninterruptedly through the whole city, as in most German towns; +so that the clown’s old joke of “Number One, +London,” if applied to them, would be no joke at all.</p> +<p>I leave the gloomy precincts of Little Churchyard, and +descending a slight incline over a pebbly, irregular pavement, +with scarcely a sign of footpath, arrive at the lower end of the +Brühl. There is a murmur of business about the place, +for this <!-- page 72--><a name="page72"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 72</span>is the first week of the Easter Fair, +but there are none of those common sounds usually associated with +the name to English ears. No braying of trumpets, clashing +of cymbals, or hoarse groaning of gongs; no roaring through +broad-mouthed horns, smacking of canvass, or pattering of +incompetent rifles. All these vulgar noises belonging to a +fair, are banished out of the gates of the city: which is itself +deeply occupied with sober, earnest trading.</p> +<p>Leipsic has the privilege of holding three markets in the +year. The first, because the most important, is called the +Ostermesse, or Easter Fair, and commences on Jubilee Sunday after +Easter. It continues for three weeks, and is the great +cloth market of the year. The second begins on the Sunday +after St. Michael, and is called Michialismesse. It is the +great Book Fair, is also of three weeks’ duration, and +dates, as does the Easter Fair, from the end of the twelfth +century. The New Year’s Fair commences on the First +of January, and was established in fourteen hundred and +fifty-eight. Curiously enough, the real business of the +Fair is negotiated in the week preceding its actual proclamation; +it is then that the great sales between manufacturers and +merchants, and their busy agents from all parts of the continent, +are effected, while the three weeks of the actual Fair are taken +up in minor transactions. No sooner is the freedom of the +Fair proclaimed than the hubbub begins; the booths, already +planted in their allotted spaces—every inch of which must +be paid for—are found to be choked up with stock of every +description, from very distant countries: while every town and +village, within a wide radius, finds itself represented by both +wares and customers.</p> +<p>It is not, however, all freedom even at fair time. The +guild laws of the different trades, exclusive and jealous as they +are, are enforced with the utmost severity. Jews, in +general, and certain trades in particular,—shoemakers, for +example,—are not allowed the same privileges as the rest; +for their liberty to sell is restricted to a shorter period, and +woe to the ambitious or unhappy journeyman who shall manufacture, +or expose for sale, any article of his trade, either on his own +account or for others, if they be not acknowledged as masters by +the Guild. Every such article will be seized by the public +officers, deposited in the Rathhaus, and severe +punishment—in the shape of fines—inflicted on the +offender. The last week of the Fair is called the pay-week; +the Thursday and Friday in this week being severally pay and +assignation days. The traffic at the Easter <!-- page +73--><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 73</span>Fair, +before the establishment of railways, was estimated at forty +millions of dollars, but since, by their means, increased +facilities of transit between Leipsic and the two capitals, +Berlin and Dresden, have been afforded, it has risen to seventy +millions of dollars, or ten millions five hundred thousand pounds +sterling.</p> +<p>In the meantime, here we are in the Brühl, a street +important enough, no doubt, so far as its inhabitants and traffic +are concerned, but neither beautiful nor picturesque. The +houses are high and flat, and, from a peculiarity of build about +their tops, seem to leer at you with one eye. Softly over +the pebbles! and mind you don’t tread on the pigeons. +They are the only creatures in Leipsic that enjoy uncontrolled +freedom. They wriggle about the streets without fear of +molestation; they sit in rows upon the tops of houses; they whirl +in little clouds above our heads; they outnumber, at a moderate +estimate, the whole human population of the city, and are as +sacred as the Apis or the Brahmin bull. As we proceed along +the Brühl, the evidences of the traffic become more +perceptible. Square sheds of a dingy black hue line one +side of the way, and are made in such a manner, that from being +more closed boxes at night, they readily become converted into +shops in the daytime, by a falling flap in front, which in some +cases is adjusted so as to perform the part of a counter. +These booths form the outer depositories of the merchandise of +the fair, and are generally filled with small and inexpensive +articles. The real riches accumulated in Leipsic during +these periods, are stowed in the massive old houses: floor above +floor being filled with them, till they jam up the very roof, and +their plenitude flow out into the street. The booths, where +not private property, are articles of profitable speculation with +the master builders of the city. They are of planed deal +painted, and are neatly enough made. They are easily stowed +away in ordinary times, and, when required, are readily erected, +being simply clammed together with huge hooks and eyes.</p> +<p>We have not proceeded half-way down the Brühl, when we +are accosted by a veritable child of Israel, who in tolerably +good English requests our custom. Will we buy some of those +unexceptionable slippers? In spite of my cap and blouse, it +is evident that I bear some national peculiarity about me, at +once readable to the keen eyes of the Jew; and upon this point, I +remember that my friend Alcibiade, of Argenteuil, jeweller, once +expressed himself to me thus: “You may always distinguish +an Englishman,” said he, <!-- page 74--><a +name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 74</span>“by two +things: his trousers and his gait. The first never fit him, +and he always walks as if he was an hour behind time.”</p> +<p>We are at the sign of the Golden Horn. Its very door-way +is blocked up for the moment by an enormous bale of goods, puffy, +and covered with cabalistic characters. When we at length +enter the outer gate of the house, we find ourselves in a small +court-yard paved with stone and open to the sky, but now choked +with boxes and packages, piled one upon the other in such +confusion, that they appear to have been rained from above, +rather than brought by vulgar trucks and human hands. Herr +Herzlich, whose house this is, resides on the third floor. +As we ascend the winding stair to his apartments, we perceive +that the building occupies the four sides of the courtyard, and +that on the third floor a wooden gallery is suspended along one +side, and serves as a means of connection between the upper +portions of the house. Queerly-shaped bundles, and even +loose goods, occupy every available corner; and as we look down +from the gallery into a deep window on the opposite side, we +perceive a portly, moustachioed gentleman busily counting and +arranging piles of Prussian bank-notes, while heaps of golden +coin, apparently Dutch ducats, or French louis d’or, are +built up in a golden barricade before him. We pause before +the door of Herr Herzlich, master goldsmith and house-owner, and +prepare to deliver our letter of introduction. They are +trying moments, these first self-presentations; but Herr Herzlich +is a true-hearted old Saxon, who raises his black velvet skullcap +with one hand, as I announce myself, while with the other he +lowers his silver spectacles from his forehead on to his +nose. Then, with all sorts of comforting words, as to my +future prospects in Leipsic, he sends me forth rejoicing.</p> +<p>Once more in the open street, we pass up the crowded way into +the market-place. A succession of wooden booths lines the +road; and many of the houses have an overhanging floor resting on +sturdy posts, which makes the footpath a rude colonnade. +Here are piled rolls and bales of cloth, while the booths are +crammed with a heterogeneous collection of articles of use and +ornament diversified beyond description. A strange knot of +gentlemen arrests our attention for a moment. They are clad +in long gowns of black serge, and wear highly-polished boots +reaching to the knee. Some have low-crowned hats, others a +kind of semi-furred turban, but they all have jet black hair +arranged in innumerable wiry ringlets, even to their <!-- page +75--><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +75</span>beards. They are Polish Jews, and trade chiefly in +pearls, garnets, turquoises, and a peculiar sort of ill-cut and +discoloured rose-diamonds.</p> +<p>The market-place is scarcely passable for the crowd, and the +wooden booths are so thickly studded over its whole space, as to +allow of only a narrow footway between them. Here we see +pipes and walking-sticks, enough not only for the present, but +for generations unborn. Traversing the ground by slow +degrees, we bend towards the Dresden gate, and come upon the +country people, all handkerchief and waistcoat, who line the path +with their little stores of toys, of eggs, butter, and little +pats of goats’-milk cheese. Here is a farmer who has +straggled all the way from Altenburg. He wears a queer +round-crowned hat, with the rim turned up at the back; a jacket +with large pockets outside, a sort of trunk hose, and black boots +reaching to the knee. A little beyond him is a band of +musicians with wind instruments, in the full costume of the +Berg-leute, or mountaineers of Freiberg. With their jackets +of black stuff, trimmed with velvet of the same hue, and edged at +the bottom with little square lappets; their dark leggings and +brimless hats, they look like a party of Grindoff the +miller’s men in mourning.</p> +<p>As we approach the gates, the stalls and wares dwindle into +insignificance, until they disappear altogether; and so we pass +out of the city to the picturesque promenades which surround +it. Afar off we hear the booming and occasional squeal of +the real Fair. It is not without its drollery, and, if not +equal to “Old Bartlemy” in noise and rude humour, has +a word to say for itself on the point of decency. It is, +however, but child’s play after all, and abounds with toys +and games, from a half-penny whistle to an electric +machine. Leipsic is now in its waking hours; but a short +time hence her fitful three weeks’ fever will have passed +away, and, weary with excitement, or as some say, plethoric with +her gorge of profits, she will sink into a soulless +lethargy. Her streets will become deserted, and echo to +solitary footsteps; and whole rows of houses, with their lately +teeming shops, will be black and tenantless, and barred and +locked in grim security. The students will shine among the +quiet citizens; the pigeons will flap their wings in idleness, +and coo in melancholy tones as they totter about the streets; and +the last itinerant player (on the flageolet, of course) will have +sounded his farewell note to the slumbering city.</p> +<h2><!-- page 76--><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +76</span>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">down in a silver +mine</span>.</p> +<p>The sojourner in Leipsic, while strolling through its quaint +old streets and spacious market-place, will be attracted, among +other peculiarities of national costume, by one which, while +startling and showy, is still attractive and picturesque. +The wearer is most probably a young man of small figure and of +pallid appearance. He is dressed in a short jacket, which +is black, and is enriched with black velvet. The nether +garments are also black. His head is covered with a black +brimless hat, and a small semicircular apron of dark cloth is +tied, not before, but behind. This is one of the +Berg-leute, mountain people; he comes from the Freiberg silver +district, and is attired in the full dress of a miner.</p> +<p>Doubtless, these somewhat theatrically attired mountaineers +hold a superior position to the diggers and blasters of the +earth. The dress is, perhaps, more properly that worn in +the mountains, than that of the miners themselves. Still, +even their habiliments, as I afterwards learned, are but a +working-day copy of this more costly model; and the semicircular +apron tied on behind, is more especially an indispensable portion +of the working dress of the labouring miner.</p> +<p>From Leipsic, the mines are distant about seventy English +miles. We—who are a happy party of foot-wanderers +bound for Vienna—spend three careless days upon the +road. Look at this glorious old castle of Altenburg, +gravely nodding from its towering rock upon the quaint town +below. It is the first station we come to, and is the +capital of the ancient dukedom of Saxon-Altenburg. Look at +the people about us! Does it not strike you as original, +that what is here called modest attire, would elsewhere be +condemned as immoral and ridiculous? Each of the males, +indeed, presents an old German portrait, with short plaited and +wadded jacket, trunk breeches, and low hat, with a rolled +brim. But the women! With petticoats no deeper than a +Highlandman’s kilt, and their legs thus <!-- page 77--><a +name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>guiltless of +shoes or stockings, the bust and neck are hideously covered by a +wooden breastplate, which, springing from the waist, rises at an +angle of forty-five degrees as high as the chin; and on the edge +of it is fastened a handkerchief, tied tightly round the +neck. A greater disfigurement of the female form could +scarcely have been devised. Yet, to these good people, it +is doubtless beauty and propriety itself; for it is old, and +national.</p> +<p>Through pretty woods and cultivated lands; beside rugged, +roadside dells, we trudge along. We halt in quiet villages, +snug and neat even in their poverty; or wend our way, in the +midst of sunshine, through endless vistas of fruit-laden woods, +the public road being one rich orchard of red-dotted +cherry-trees: purchasable for a mere fraction, but not to be +feloniously abstracted. Through Altenburg, Zwickau, +Oederon, and Chemnitz; up steep hill paths, and by the side of +unpronounceable villages, until, on the morning of the fourth +day, we straggle into Freiberg.</p> +<p>Freiberg is the walled capital of the Saxon ore mountains, the +Erzgebirge; the centre of the Saxon mining administration. +One of its most spacious buildings is the Mining Academy, which +dates from 1767. Here are rich collections of the wonderful +produce of these mountains; models of mining machines, of +philosophical and chemical apparatus; class and lecture rooms, +and books out of number. Here Werner, the father of +geology, and Humboldt, the systematiser of physical geography, +were pupils. The former has bequeathed an extensive museum +of mineralogy to the Academy, which has been gratefully named +after its founder, the Wernerian Museum.</p> +<p>Freiberg holds up its head very high. The Mining Academy +stands one thousand two hundred and thirty-one feet above the +sea, although this is by no means the greatest altitude in the +long range of mountains, which form a huge boundary line between +the kingdoms of Saxony and Bohemia. The general name for +the whole district is the Erzgebirg-Kreis—the circle of ore +mountains—and truly they form one vast store of silver, +tin, lead, iron, coal, copper, and cobalt ores; besides a host of +chemical compounds and other riches. The indefatigable +Saxons have worked and burrowed in them for more than seven +hundred years.</p> +<p>We proceed to the Royal Saxon Mining Office, and request +permission to descend into the “bowels of the +land.” This is accorded us without difficulty, and we +receive a beautiful specimen of <!-- page 78--><a +name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>German text, +in the shape of a lithographed Fahrschein, or permission to +descend into Abraham’s Shaft and Himmelfahrt, and to +inspect all the works and appliances thereunto belonging. +This Fahrschein especially informs us, that no person, unless of +the Minerstand (fraternity of miners), can be permitted to +descend into the Zechen or pits, who is not eighteen years old; +nor can more than two persons be intrusted to the care of one +guide. We cheerfully pay on demand the sum of ten silver +groschens each (about one shilling), for the purpose—as we +are informed in a note at the bottom of the Fahrschein—of +meeting the exigencies of the Miners’ Pension and Relief +Fund.</p> +<p>The mine we are about to inspect, which bears the general +title of Himmelsfurst—Prince of Heaven—is situated +near to the village of Brand. How fond these old miners +were of Biblical designations! and what an earnest spirit of +religion glowed within them! There is another mine in the +vicinity, at Voightberg, called the Old Hope of God; but we must +recollect that Freiberg was one of the strongholds of early +Protestantism, and that the first and sternest of the reformers +clustered about its mountains. They have a cold, desolate +look; and we think of the gardens we have left at their bases, +and of the forests of fir-trees which wave upon some of the +loftier pinnacles of these same Erzgebirge. Nor are the few +men we meet of more promising appearance: not dwarfed nor +stunted, but naturally diminutive, with sallow skins and +oppressed demeanour. How different are the firm, lithe, +sun-tanned mountaineers, who breathe the free air on the summits +of their hills!</p> +<p>We are near the entrance of the mine; and, entering the neat, +wooden office of the Schachtmeister, or mine-controller, we +produce our credentials. Having signed our names in a huge +book (in which we decipher more than one English name), we are +passed to the care of an intelligent-looking guide; who, although +still in early manhood, is of the same small and delicate growth +observable in the miners generally.</p> +<p>Our guide, providing himself with small lanterns and an +ominous-looking bundle, leads the way out of the +Schachtmeister’s office to another portion of the same +building. Here are heaps of dark grey +“macadamised” stones;—silver and lead ores just +raised from the pit; over whose very mouth we are unknowingly +standing. A windlass is in the centre of the chasm; and it +is by means of this windlass that the metalliferous substance is +raised to the surface in <!-- page 79--><a +name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>square wooden +boxes. Here the dressing of the ores commences; boys +cluster in all directions, under the wooden shed, and in oilier +sheds beyond that. Here the ores are picked and sorted, +washed and sieved, and, we believe, crushed or pulverised, +according to the amount of metal contained in them, till they are +in a fit state for the smelting furnace. We are not +admitted to a minute inspection of these processes; but, under +the direction of our guide, turn towards the mouth of the pit +which we are to descend. Ere we leave the shed, we pick out +a small block of ore as a memorial of the visit, and are +astonished at its weight; bright yellow, and dull lead-coloured +crystals gleam over its surface; and a portion of the gneiss, +from which it has been broken, still adheres to it.</p> +<p>We follow our guide across a dusty space towards a wooden +building with a conical roof; and, as we approach it, we become +conscious of, rather than hear, the sweet, melancholy sound of a +bell, which, at minute intervals, tones dreamily through the +air. Whence comes that sad sound? In the centre of +the shed is a square box, open at the top; and immediately above +hangs the small bell; thence comes the silvery voice.</p> +<p>“For what purpose is this bell?” we inquire of our +guide.</p> +<p>“It is the bell of safety.”</p> +<p>“Does it sound a warning?”</p> +<p>“No, the reverse; its silence gives the warning. +The bell is tolled by a large water-wheel, immediately below the +surface. By means of this wheel, and others at greater +depths, the whole drainage of this mine is effected. If, by +any means, these waterwheels should cease to act, the bell would +cease to sound, and the miners would hasten to the day, for no +man could tell how soon his working might be flooded.”</p> +<p>“And can it be heard throughout the mine?”</p> +<p>“Through this portion of it. Probably the water +acts as a conductor of the sound; but the miners listen earnestly +for its minute tolling.”</p> +<p>Toll on, thou messenger of comfort! May thy voice ever +tell of safety to the haggard toiler, deep in the earth!</p> +<p>Our guide now directs us to attire ourselves in the garments +disgorged from the portentous-looking bundle. They consist +of a pair of black calico trousers, a dark, lapelled coat, a +leathern semicircular apron, buckled on behind—the strap of +which serves to hook a small lantern on in front—and a +terrible brimless felt hat, which <!-- page 80--><a +name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>we feel to be +a curse the moment we put it on, and which we never cease to +anathematise, up to the instant when we take it off. These +habiliments being drawn over our ordinary clothing, do not +facilitate our motions, or help to keep us in so cool a state as +might be desirable.</p> +<p>Over the edge of the square box, and down a stone staircase +cut through the solid granite, we follow our guide. We +pause on the first few steps, and are just able to distinguish +the huge, broad water-wheel, slowly revolving in its stony +chamber: its spokes, like giant arms, sweep through the wet +darkness with scarcely a sound, but a low dripping and gurgling +of water. That terrible staircase! dark and steep and +slimy! Water drips from its roof and oozes from its +walls. It is so low, that instead of bending forward as the +body naturally does when in the act of descent, we are compelled +to throw our heads back at the risk of dislocating our necks, in +order that the detestable hat may not be driven over our eyes by +coming in contact with the roof. Down, down the slippery +steps; feeling our way along slimy walls: through the dense +gloom, and heavy, moist air! The way seems to wave and bend +we scarcely know how; sometimes we traverse level galleries, but +they only lead us again to the steep, clammy steps, cut through +the tough rock, always at the same acute angle. Down, down, +six hundred feet! and our guide whispers to us to be careful how +we go, for we are in a dangerous place: he has brought us to this +portion of the mine to show us how the water accumulates when +undisturbed.</p> +<p>The vein of ore has, in this part, ceased to yield a profit +for the necessary labour, and the works have been +abandoned. We creep breathlessly down until our guide bids +us halt; and, holding out his lantern at arm’s length, but +half reveals, in the pitchy darkness, a low-roofed cavern, +floored by an inky lake of still, dead water; in which we see the +light of the lantern reflected as in a mirror. It is +fearful to look on—so black and motionless: a sluggish +pool, thick and treacherous, which seemingly would engulf us +without so much as a wave or a bubble; and we are within a foot +of its surface! We draw involuntarily back, and creep up +the steep stair to the first level above us.</p> +<p>Along a narrow gallery we proceed for a short space, and then +down again; still down the interminable steps, till our knees +crack with the ever uniform motion, and the hot perspiration +streams from every pore. The air is so thick and heavy, +that we occasionally <!-- page 81--><a name="page81"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 81</span>draw breath with a half gasp; and +still we descend, till we hear the muffled ring of +steel,—tink, tink, tink,—immediately near us, and are +suddenly arrested in our downward course by the level ground.</p> +<p>We are in a narrow gallery, considerably loftier than any we +have yet seen; for we can walk about in it without +stooping. At the further end are two miners, just +distinguishable by the tiny glow of their lanterns. From +these proceed the ring of steel—the muffled tinkling in the +thick air we had heard—and we see that they are preparing +for a “blast.” With a long steel rod, or +chisel, they are driving a way into the hard rock (geologists say +there is little else in the Erzebirge than the primitive gneiss +and granite), and thus prepare a deep, narrow chamber, within +which a charge of gunpowder is placed and exploded. The +hard material is rent into a thousand pieces, bringing with it +the ore so indefatigably sought.</p> +<p>With every limb strained and distorted, the miners pursue +their cramping labours, grovelling on the earth. The +drilling or boring they are engaged in is a slow process, and the +choice of a spot, so that the explosion may loosen as much of the +lode and as little of the rock as possible, is of considerable +importance. They cease their labours as we enter, and turn +to look at us. The curse of wealth-digging is upon +them. They, in their stained and disordered costume, seated +on the ground on their semicircular leather aprons (for that is +the obvious use of this portion of the dress, in these moist +regions); we, in our borrowed garments and brimless beavers, with +flushed features and dripping hair. The miners do not wear +the abominable hats, at least “beneath the day,” that +is, in the mines.</p> +<p>“Is this the bottom of the mine?” we inquire +anxiously.</p> +<p>The guide smiles grimly as he answers, “We are little +more than half-way to the bottom; but we can descend no deeper in +this direction.”</p> +<p>Heaven knows we have no desire!</p> +<p>“This is the first working,” he continues. +“The rest of the mine is much the same as you have already +seen. We have no other means of reaching the workings than +by the stone staircases you have partly descended.”</p> +<p>“What are the miners’ hours of work?”</p> +<p>“Eight hours a day for five days in the week at this +depth,” is the answer. “In the deeper workings +the hours are fewer.”</p> +<p><!-- page 82--><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +82</span>“What is the extent of the mine?” we +demand.</p> +<p>“I cannot tell. There is no miner living who has +traversed them all. The greater portion is out of work, and +spreads for miles under ground.”</p> +<p>“And the depth?”</p> +<p>“About two hundred fathoms—twelve hundred +feet—the sea level. The ‘Old Hope of God’ +is sixty feet below the level of the sea.”</p> +<p>“Are there many mines like this?”</p> +<p>“There are about two hundred mines in all, with five +hundred and forty pits: in all the mines together there are some +four thousand eight hundred hands, men and boys. This mine +occupies nine hundred of them.”</p> +<p>“And your pay?”</p> +<p>“One dollar a week is a good wage with us.”</p> +<p>One dollar is about three shillings of English money! +This seems small pay, even in cheap Saxony.</p> +<p>“But,” we pursue our inquiries, “you have no +short time, and are pensioned?—at least, so says our +Fahrschein.”</p> +<p>“We are paid our wages during sickness, and are never +out of work. When we can no longer use the pick, nor climb +these staircases, we can retire upon our pension of eight silver +groschens a week.”</p> +<p>Tenpence! Magnificent independence! This is +digging for silver with a vengeance.</p> +<p>But we are faint with fatigue; and, bidding adieu to the two +miners, we gladly agree to our guide’s suggestion of +ascending to the happy daylight. Our way is still the same; +although we mount by another shaft, most appropriately named +Himmelfahrt—the path of heaven; but we clamber up the same +steep steps; feel our way along the same slimy walls, and +occasionally drive our hats over our eyes against the same low, +dripping roof. With scarcely a dry thread about us; our +hair matted and dripping; beads of perspiration streaming down +our faces, we reach the top at last; and thank Heaven, that after +two hours’ absence deep down among those terrible +“diggins,” we are permitted once more to feel the +bracing air, and to look upon the glorious light of day.</p> +<p>Our labours, however are not over. Distant rather more +than an English mile from Himmelsfürst are the extensive +amalgamation works, the smelting furnaces and refining +ovens. Painfully fatigued <!-- page 83--><a +name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 83</span>as we are, we +cannot resist the temptation of paying them a brief visit. +The road is dusty and desolate; nor are the works themselves +either striking or attractive. An irregular mass of sheds, +brick buildings, and tall chimneys, present themselves. As +we approach them we come upon a “sludge +hole”—the bed of a stream running from the dredging +and jigging works; where, by the agency of water, the ore is +relieved of its earthy and other waste matter, and the stream of +water—allowed to run off in separate +channels—deposits, as it flows, the smaller particles +washed away in the first process. These are all carefully +collected, and the veriest atom of silver or lead +extracted. It is only the coarser ores that undergo this +process; the richer deposits being pulverised and smelted with +white or charred wood and fluxes, without the application of +water, and refined by amalgamation with quicksilver. The +two metals are afterwards separated by distilling off the +latter.</p> +<p>Here are heaps of scoria—stacks of piglead, wood, coke, +limestone and waste earth, everything, indeed, but silver; +although we are emphatically in a silver mining district, silver +is by no means the material which presents itself in the greatest +bulk. Having placed ourselves under the direction of one of +the workmen, we are led into some newly built brick buildings, +where force-pumps and other water appliances, erected at great +cost by the Saxon government, are gratefully pointed out to +us. These water-works are equally applicable to the +extinction of fire, as to the preparation of ores.</p> +<p>Into what an incomprehensible maze of words should we be +betrayed, were we to attempt a description of the multifarious +operations for the extraction and refining of metals! Every +description of ore, or metalliferous deposit, requires a +different treatment: each suggested and verified by laborious +experience and vigilant attention. In some cases the pure +silver is separated by mechanical means; in others the ore is +roasted, in order to throw off the sulphur, arsenic, and other +volatile matters, which are separately collected and form no +inconsiderable portion of the valuable produce of the mine. +These roastings again are smelted with a variety of fluxes, and +in different states of purification, until they are ready for +refining.</p> +<p>Here are roasting furnaces, dull and black; huge brick tubes +with swollen ends; others built in, and ready for ignition. +Everywhere, we see pigs of lead, sometimes lying about in +reckless confusion, at others, neatly packed in square +stacks. Now, they bring us to a <!-- page 84--><a +name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 84</span>huge circular +oven, with at least half-a-dozen firmly closed iron doors, and as +many glowing caves; and a swarthy man, armed with an iron rake, +swinging open one of the iron doors with a ring and a clatter, we +look in upon a small lake of molten silver, fuming, and steaming, +and bubbling. The iron rake is thrust in, and scrapes off +the crumbling crust—the oxide of lead, which has formed +upon its surface. The silver fumes and flashes, and a white +vapour swims in the air. The swarthy man swings the iron +door to with a clang, takes us by the arm, and bids us look +through into a dark cavity, and watch the white drops which fall +at intervals like tiny stars from above. This is the +quicksilver evaporated from the heated silver in the furnace, +which passes through the chimney into a kind of still, and is +restored to its original condition.</p> +<p>And what is the result of all this skill and labour? We +find that the average produce of the Saxon mines is from three to +four ounces of silver to the hundred pounds’ weight of ore; +and that the mines about Freiberg yield annually nearly four +hundred and fifty thousand ounces of silver. We find +further that the total mines of the +Erzgebirge-Kreis—“circle of ore +mountains”—of which those of Freiberg form a portion, +produce a total of seven hundred and twenty thousand ounces of +silver every year; besides from four hundred to five hundred tons +of lead, one hundred and forty tons of tin, about thirty tons of +copper, from three thousand five hundred to four thousand tons of +iron, and six hundred tons of cobalt. They are rich also in +arsenic, brimstone, and vitriol, and contain, in no +inconsiderable quantities, quicksilver, antimony, calamites, +bismuth, and manganese. Even precious stones are not +wanting; garnets, topazes, tourmalines, amethysts, beryls, +jaspers, and chalcedonies having been found.</p> +<p>A shrewd old workman tells us, with a proud satisfaction, that +when Napoleon’s power was crushed, and Saxony had to pay +the penalty of her adhesion to the French conqueror, in the shape +of various parings and loppings of her already narrow +territories—that Prussia gloated with greedy eyes, and half +stretched out an eager hand to grasp the Erzgebirge and their +mineral riches. “<i>Aber</i>,” exclaims he with +a chuckle, “<i>die sind noch Sächische</i>, <i>Gott +sey dank</i>!” “But they are still Saxon, +thanks be to God!”</p> +<p>All things considered (the Australian diggins included), we +came to the conclusion, from our small experience of Saxon mines, +that <!-- page 85--><a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +85</span>there are more profitable, and even more agreeable +occupations in the world than mining—pleasanter ways, in +short, of getting a living, than digging for silver in Saxony, or +even for gold in Australia.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">a lift in a +cart</span>.</p> +<p>We left Dresden in the middle of July, a motley group of five: +a Frenchman, an Austrian, two natives of Lübeck, and myself; +silversmiths and jewellers together; all of us duly +<i>viséd</i> by our several ambassadors through Saxon +Switzerland, by way of Pirna, on to Peterswald. The latter +is the frontier town of Bohemia, and forms, therefore, the +entrance from Saxony into the Austrian empire.</p> +<p>At dusk we were on the banks of the Elbe, at the ferry station +near Pillnitz, the summer dwelling of the King of Saxony. +Having crossed the broad stream, we leapt joyously up the steep +path that led into a mimic Switzerland; a country of peaks, +valleys, and pine trees, wanting only snow and glaciers. +For three days we wandered among those wild regions; now scaling +the bleak face of a rock; now stretched luxuriously on the purple +moss, or gathering wild raspberries by the road side. From +the abrupt edge of the overhanging Bastei we looked down some six +hundred feet upon the wandering Elbe, threading its way by broad +slopes, rich with the growth of the vine; or by bleached walls of +stone, upon which even the lichens seemed to have been unable to +make good their footing. From the narrow wooden bridge of +Neu Rathen, we looked down upon the waving tops of fir trees, +hundreds of feet beneath us. Then down we ourselves went by +a wild and jagged path into a luxuriant valley called by no unfit +name, Liebethal—the Valley of Love!</p> +<p>Then there was Königstein, seen far away, a square-topped +mountain, greyish white with time and weather, soaring above the +river’s level some fourteen hundred feet. And we +clambered on, never wearying; by mountain fall and sombre cavern, +and round the base of an old rock up to a fortress, till we +reached the iron gates; and, amid the echo of repeated passwords +and the clatter of military arms, entered its gloomy +portal. We entered only to pass through; <!-- page 86--><a +name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 86</span>and having +admired from the summit a glorious summer prospect, we journeyed +on again into the plains beyond, and so entered the Austrian +territory at Peterswald.</p> +<p>Then there was a great change from fertility to +barrenness. From the moment we entered Bohemia we were +oppressed by a sense of poverty, of sloth, or some worse curse +resulting from Austrian domination, which seemed to have been +enough to cripple even Nature herself as she stood about +us. It was evident that we had got among another race of +people, or else into contact with a quite different state of +things. At the first inn we found upon the road, although +it was a mighty rambling place, with stone staircases and +spacious chambers, there was not bedding enough in the whole +establishment for our party of five, and yet we were the only +guests. We were reduced to the expedient of spreading the +two mattresses at our disposal close together upon the bare +boards, and so sleeping five men in one double bed. A +miserable night we had of it. We fared better at Prague, +which town we entered the next day. That is a fine old +city. From the first glimpse we caught of it from an +adjoining hill, bathing its feet, as it were, in the Moldan, we +were charmed. There was a wonderful cluster of minarets and +conical towers, half Eastern, half German, piled up to the summit +of the castle hill. There was the beautifully barbarous +chapel of Johann von Nepomuk, with its silver tomb. It was +all one mass of picturesque details, beautiful in their outline +and impressive in their very age,—and, I may add, +dirt. A rare picture of middle-age romance is +Prague—a fragment of the past, uninjured and +unchanged. The new suspension bridge across the Moldan +looks ridiculous; it is incongruous; what has old Prague to do +with modern engineering? It is a noble structure, to be +sure, of which the inhabitants are proud; but it was designed and +executed for them by an Englishman.</p> +<p>From Prague we tramped with all the diligence of needy +travellers to Brünn, the capital of Moravia. Our march +was straggling. Foremost strode Alcibiade Tourniquet, +jeweller and native of Argenteuil, the best fellow in the world: +but one who would persist in marching in a pair of Parisian boots +with high, tapering heels, bearing the pain they gave with little +wincing. For him the ground we trod was classical, for we +were in the neighbourhood of Austerlitz. Immediately in his +rear swaggered the Austrian, with swarthy features and black +straggling locks, swaddled and dirty; he was called +“bandit” by general consent. The other three +men <!-- page 87--><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>of our party tramped abreast under the guidance of a +Lübecker, a smart upright fellow, who, on the strength of +having served two years in an infantry regiment, naturally took +the position of drill-sergeant, and was dignified with the name +of Hannibal on that account.</p> +<p>We halted to rest in the village of Bischowitz, where the few +straggling houses, and the dreary, almost tenantless hostelry, +told their own sorrows. But we got good soup, with an +unlimited supply of bread, which formed a dinner of the best +description; for, besides that the adopted doctrine in Germany is +that soup is the best meat for the legs, we found that it also +agreed well with our pockets. While in the full enjoyment +of our rest, we observed that an earnest conversation had sprung +up between the landlord and a ruddy-featured fellow in a green +half-livery.</p> +<p>“Whither are you going, friends?” inquired the +landlord at length, advancing towards us.</p> +<p>“We were going to Brünn by the high-road,” we +answered.</p> +<p>“This man will carry you beyond Chradim for a +<i>zwanziger</i> a head,” said the landlord, pointing to +the half-liveried fellow, who began gesticulating violently, and +marking us off with his fingers as if we were so many +sheep. This was a tempting offer for foot travellers, each +burthened with a heavy knapsack. Chradim was eleven German +miles on our road—a good fifty miles in English +measurement—and we were all to be transported this distance +for a total of about three shillings and sixpence. We +therefore inspected the <i>furwerk</i>, which did not promise +much; but as it was drawn by a neat sturdy little horse, who +rattled his harness with a sort of brisk independence that spoke +well for a rapid journey, we readily decided upon the acceptance +of the offer made by the Bohemian driver. That worthy shook +his head when we addressed him, and grunted out “<i>Kein +Deutsch</i>,”—“No German.” Indeed +we found that, excepting people in official situations, +innkeepers, and the like, the German language was either unknown +to, or unacknowledged by the natives. In less than half an +hour we had tumbled our knapsacks into the cart—which was a +country dray, of course without either springs or seats—and +disposing ourselves as conveniently as we could on its rough +edges, were rattling and jolting off over the uneven road towards +Collin, our station for the night.</p> +<p>The country through which we passed was uncultivated and +uninteresting; but, like the rest that we had seen, it spoke of a +<!-- page 88--><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +88</span>poverty rather induced than natural. With the +exception of the two villages of Planinam and Böhmishbrod we +scarcely saw a house, and human creatures were extremely +scarce. As we approached Collin we halted for a moment to +look at a column of black marble erected on the roadside to +commemorate the devotion of a handful of Russian troops, who had +at this spot checked the progress of the whole French army for +many hours. A little later, and we were lodged at our inn +in the market-town of Collin, where we supped on bread and cheese +and good Prague beer. A wild chorus of loud voices, and an +overwhelming odour of tobacco and onions, were the accompaniments +of our meal. The morrow being market-day in Collin, the +whole population of the district had flocked to the town, and the +houses of accommodation were all full. Our common room was +quite choked up with sturdy forms in white loose coats; broad +country faces, flushed with good humour, or beer, shone upon us +from all sides. Our driver, who had been very sedate and +reserved during the whole of the day, soon joined a cluster of +congenial spirits in one corner, and was the thirstiest and most +uproarious of mortals. As for ourselves, we seemed to be +made doubly strangers, for there was not a word of German spoken +in our hearing. Hours wore on, and the country folks seemed +to enjoy their town excursion so extremely well, that there were +no signs of breaking up, till mine host made his appearance and +insisted upon the lights being put out, and upon the departure of +his guests to bed. But, beds; where were they? Our +military Lübecker laughed at the idea.</p> +<p>“There are never more than two beds in a Bohemian house +of entertainment,” said he, “and the landlord by law +claims the best of the two for himself. The other is for +the first comer who pays for it. Perhaps we shall get some +straw, perhaps not. At the worst there are the +boards.”</p> +<p>But we did get some straw, after considerable trouble, and the +whole crowd of boozers (with the exception of our driver, who +went to bed with his horses) set about preparing couches for +themselves, with a tact that plainly showed how well they were +accustomed to it. The straw was spread equally over the +whole chamber, and each man turned over his heavy oaken chair, so +that its back became a pillow. Divested of boots and coats, +we were soon stretched upon our litters, thirty in a room.</p> +<p>Our morning duty was to shake the loose straw out of our hair +and ears, and then to clear away every vestige of our night <!-- +page 89--><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +89</span>accommodation, in order that a delicious breakfast of +rich, black, thick coffee, and plain bread, might be spread +before us in the same room. The country folks were all at +market, and, as far as we could see, so was our driver. He +was nowhere to be found. We had vague notions of his having +decamped; but considering that we had only paid him two +zwanzigers out of the five bargained for, the supposition seemed +hardly a reasonable one. After seeking him in vain through +every room in the house, in the crowded market place, and in the +neat little town, full of low, square-built houses and whitened +colonnades, we thought of the stable, and there we found our +friend, stretched on his back among the hoofs of his horse, who, +careful creature, loving him too well to disturb him, never +stirred a limb.</p> +<p>We saw our guide in a new light that day. In spite of +all our urging, it was nine o’clock before we fairly +quitted Collin, and he was then already in an exhilarated state, +having taken several strong draughts to cool his inward +fever. We would have given much to have been able to +converse with him; for, as we were about to start, he grinned and +gesticulated in such a violent way—having, evidently, +something to communicate which he was unable to +express—that we called the host to our assistance.</p> +<p>“You must not be alarmed,” said the landlord in +explanation, “if he should swerve from the high-road, for +he thinks of taking you cross country, and it may be a little +rough.”</p> +<p>We started at last, and the brave little horse rattled along +at a gallant pace. “Hi, hi, hi!” shouted the +Bohemian, and away we went along the well-beaten high-road, +jolted unmercifully; our knapsacks dancing about our feet like +living creatures. We were too much occupied in the task of +keeping our seats, to be able to devote much attention to the +country, until, having passed Czaslau, we turned suddenly out of +the high-road, and came upon a scene of cultivation and +refinement that was very charming. A rapid cooling down of +our driver’s extravagance of manner was the immediate +result of our entering upon the well-kept paths, and between +smooth lawns; we went at a decent trot, following a semicircular +road, by which we were brought immediately in front of a noble +mansion. At the door of an inn, which pressed upon the +pathway, our Bohemian halted and addressed to us a voluble and +enthusiastic harangue in his own language (one that has a soft +and pleasant sound): evidently he meant to impress us with the +beauty of the scene.</p> +<p><!-- page 90--><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +90</span>We soon learned all about it from the landlord of the +inn. Our driver was a liveried servant of the Prince before +whose mansion we had stopped, and he was probably running much +risk of dismissal in letting his grace’s country cart for +hire. He was a sad dog, for, in the course of a quarter of +an hour he ran up a score upon the strength of an alleged promise +on our parts to pay all expenses, and succeeded in wheedling +another zwanziger in advance out of our cashier, the military +Lübecker. This piece of money, however, on being +proffered in payment of a last half-pint of beer, was instantly +confiscated by the landlord for previous arrears.</p> +<p>Amid a hurricane of abuse, exchanged between landlord and +driver, we clattered out of private ground to the main road +again. Our charioteer had risen into a state of exaltation +that defied all curb, and in a short time we were again firmly +planted before the sign-post of a public-house. But here +there was no credit, and our good-natured Lübecker having +doled out a fourth zwanziger on account, was scarcely surprised +to see it pounced upon and totally appropriated by the host in +liquidation of some ancient score. With a shout of rage, or +rather a howl, from our Bohemian whip, we again set +forward. “Hi, hi, hi!” and helter-skelter we +went, through bush and bramble, where indeed there was no trace +or shadow of a beaten track. The Bohemian was lost to +control; he shouted, he sang, he yelled, savagely flogging his +willing beast all the while, until we began to have serious fears +for the safety of our necks. Presently we were skimming +along the edge of the steep bank of a broad and rapid stream, +wondering internally what might possibly come next, when, to our +terror, the Bohemian, pointing with his whip to the opposite +bank, suddenly wheeled the horse and rude vehicle round, and +before we could expostulate with or arrest him in his course, +plunged down a long slope and dashed into the river, with a +hissing and splashing that completely blinded us for a few +seconds, and drenched us to the skin. We held on with the +desperation of fear; but before we could well know whether we +swam or rode we had passed the stream, and our unconquered little +horse was tugging us might and main up the opposite bank. +That once obtained, we saw before us a wide expanse of heath, +rugged and broken, and no trace of any road.</p> +<p>But horse and driver seemed to be alike careless about beaten +tracks. The Bohemian grew wilder at every step, urging on +his horse with mad gestures and unearthly cries. His +driving was <!-- page 91--><a name="page91"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 91</span>miraculous; along narrow strips of +road, scarcely wide enough to contain the wheels, he passed in +safety; sometimes skimming the outer ridge of a steep bank, and +when, seemingly about to plunge into an abyss, suddenly wheeling +both horse and cart round at an acute angle, and darting on with +a reckless speed to new dangers and new escapes. We had +been told that he was an admirable hand at the rein when sober; +but, when drunk, he certainly surpassed himself. As for +ourselves, we were in constant fear of our lives; and, being +utterly unacquainted with the country and the language, and +unable to control the extravagances of our driver, we calmly +awaited, and almost invoked, the “spill” that seemed +inevitable.</p> +<p>But the paroxysm of the Bohemian had reached its height; from +an incarnate devil, in demeanour and language, he rapidly dropped +into childish helplessness, and finally into a deep +uncontrollable slumber. This was a state of things which, +at first, threatened more danger than his open madness; but then +it was the horse’s turn to show <i>his</i> quality. +He saw that a responsibility devolved upon him, and he was quite +equal to the occasion. He seemed to know his way as well +without as with his master. We guessed this; and, taking +the reins from the hands of the quite helpless Bohemian, we left +the gallant animal to take whatever course he thought most +prudent. The good beast brought us well out of the tangled +heath, and once more to a level, open road.</p> +<p>Soon, a neat village was before us, and we came to the +resolution that we would dismount there at all hazards. But +then our sleepy driver suddenly started into life, and, with a +terrible outburst of wrath, gave us, by motions, to understand +that we had gone beyond his destination. We paid very +little heed to him; but, leaping from the cart, felt grateful for +the blessing of whole bones. There remained still one +zwanziger unpaid; but, to our astonishment, the Bohemian relapsed +into his old rage when this was tendered to him, and, by a +complication of finger reckoning, explained to us that he had +never received more than two. In fact, he ignored all that +had passed during his drunken fit. Argument being on each +side useless, we also betook ourselves to abuse, and a terrible +conflict of strong language, in which neither party understood +the other, was the result. We entered the chief inn of the +village, followed by the implacable Bohemian, who, though ejected +several times, never failed to re-appear, repeating his finger +calculations every time, and <!-- page 92--><a +name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>concluding +each assault with the mystical words, “<i>Sacramentum +hallaluyah</i>!” The landlord came at length to our +assistance; and, by a few emphatic words in his own language, +exorcised this evil spirit.</p> +<p>We pursued our way by Hohenmauth, and having missed somehow +the larger village of Chradim, lodged for the night in a lonely +hamlet. We walked fully thirty-two miles the next day, +through a wild, neglected country, and hobbled into Loitomischl +as the night was setting in.</p> +<p>We were now upon the borders of Bohemia, and saw glaring on +the wall of a frontier hostelry, “Willkommen zu +Mähren”—“Welcome to Moravia.” +We sealed the welcome by a sumptuous breakfast of sausages and +beer in the frontier town of Zwittau—a pleasant place, with +a spacious colonnaded market-square—and finished our meal +on a green bank on the outskirts of the town, with a heap of +sweet blackberries, of which we had purchased a capful for six +kreutzers shein. It was a quiet, beautiful Sunday morning, +and the country folks were streaming towards the church. +They were all in holiday trim, with a strong tendency to +Orientalism in the fashion of their garments. The +women’s head-dresses were arranged with much taste, +consisting generally of a large handkerchief, or shawl, folded +turban-wise, with hanging ends; but the heads of the men were +surmounted by an atrocious machine, in the shape of a hat, which, +with its broad, rolled brim, its expanded top, and numerous +braidings and pendants, could be nothing less than an heirloom in +a family. We marched some twenty-five miles that day, and +as the even darkened, entered the village of +Goldentraum—Golden dream—happy name! for here, after +four nights of straw-litter, we slept in beds.</p> +<p>Seated in the travellers’ room was a group which at once +arrested our attention. A swarthy man, with scattered, +raven locks, and a handsome countenance, was filling a glass with +red wine from a round-bellied flask. His companion, a +black, shaggy-bearded fellow, ragged and filthy, sat opposite to +him; while close by the wall, squatted on the ground, was a +squalid, olive-skinned woman, with black, matted hair, who was +vainly endeavouring to still the cries of a child, swaddled at +her back. The men wore slouched Spanish hats, and wide +cloaks, which, partly thrown aside, revealed the rags and dirt +beneath. Bohemian gipseys—real Bohemians were +they—filchers and beggars, whose ample cloaks were intended +as much <!-- page 93--><a name="page93"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 93</span>for a convenient means of concealing +stolen property, as articles of dress. Our military +Lübecker thought they would be very useful as a foraging +party. They sat laughing and sipping their wine, now and +then handing a glass of the liquor, in an ungracious way, to the +woman squatted on the ground; and who received it with a real or +assumed humility which was, perhaps, the most curious part of the +picture. Here three of our companions, Alcibiade, the +Viennese silversmith, and one of the Lübeckers, were unable +to proceed further on foot, and took places in the “fast +coach;” while “Hannibal” and myself tramped the +remaining twenty miles which lay between us and Brünn, the +capital of Moravia.</p> +<p>It was again Sunday, our usual rest day, and I stood in the +open square before the huge church at Brünn, watching the +motley, shifting, and clamorous crowd which had converted its +very steps into a market-place. There was something +strikingly Eastern in the character of the women’s attire: +intensely gaudy and highly contrasted; and their head-dresses the +very next thing to a turban with double-frilled ends. There +was also something peculiarly Catholic in the nature of the +articles exposed for sale; beads, crosses, coloured pictures of +saints, and tiny images of suffering Saviours; but more +especially in the manner in which the Sunday had been turned into +a market-day. Above all, and through all, the impressive +tones of the solemn chant, mingled with bursts of inspiring +music, pealed out of the open doorway, round which clustered the +kneeling devotees.</p> +<p>Our lame companions started on the following day by rail for +the Austrian capital, while we took the high road. The +country through which we passed was beautifully undulated; hill +and dale following each other in regular succession, and in a far +different state of order and cultivation to the neglected plains +of Bohemia. We were now in Austria proper, and everything +spoke of prosperity and comfort. Neat, populous villages, +hung upon every hill-side—the southern side +invariably—and there were no shortcomings in the +accommodation for man or horse. But our finances were in a +miserable plight; and our sustenance during the two and a half +days occupied in tramping the more than eighty miles between +Brünn and Vienna, consisted for the most part of fruit, +bread, and water. We crossed the Danube at a place called +“Am Spitz,” where there is an interminable bridge +across the broad flood, and entered Vienna almost penniless.</p> +<h2><!-- page 94--><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">the turks’ +cellar</span>.</p> +<p>You enter the old town of Vienna from Leopoldstadt by the +Ferdinand Bridge; and, walking for a few minutes parallel with +the river, come into a hollow called the Tiefer Grund; passing +next under a broad arch which itself supports a street spanning +the gulley, you find on the left hand a rising ground which must +be climbed in order to reach a certain open space of a triangular +form, walled in by lofty houses, called “Die +Freiung,”—the Deliverance. In it there is an +old wine-house, the Turks’ Cellar, and there belongs to +this spot one of the legends of Vienna.</p> +<p>In the autumn of the year sixteen hundred and twenty-seven, +when the city was so closely invested by the Turks, that the +people were half famished, there stood in the place now called +“Freiung,” or thereabouts, the military bakery for +that portion of the garrison which had its quarters in the +neighbourhood. The bakery had to supply not only the +soldiers, but bread was made in it to be doled out to destitute +civilians by the municipal authorities; and, as the number of the +destitute was great, the bakers there employed had little +rest. Once in the dead of the night, while some of the +apprentices were getting their dough ready for the early morning +batch, they were alarmed by a hollow ghostly sound as of spirits +knocking in the earth. The blows were regular and quite +distinct, and without cessation until cockcrow. The next +night these awful sounds were again heard, and seemed to become +louder and more urgent as the day drew near; but, with the first +scent of morning air, they suddenly ceased. The apprentices +gave information to the town authorities; a military watch was +set, and the cause of the strange noises in the earth was very +soon discovered. The enemy was under ground; the Turks, +from their camp on the Leopoldiberg, were carrying a mine under +the city; and, not knowing the levels, had approached so nearly +to the surface that there was but a mere crust between them and +the bakehouse floor.</p> +<p><!-- page 95--><a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +95</span>What was to be done? The danger was +imminent—the remedy must be prompt and decisive. A +narrow arm of the Danube ran within a hundred yards of the place: +pick and spade were vigorously plied, and in a short time a canal +was cut between the river and the bakery. Little knew the +Turks of the cold water that could then at any time be thrown +upon their undertaking. All was still. The Viennese +say that the hostile troops already filled the mine, armed to the +teeth, and awaiting only a concerted signal to tell them that a +proposed midnight attack on the walls had diverted the attention +of the citizens. Then they were to rush up out of the earth +and surprise the town. But the besieged, forewarned and +forearmed, suddenly threw the flood-gates open and broke a way +for the water through the new canal under the bakehouse floor; +down it went bubbling, hissing, and gurgling into the dark +cavern, where it swept the Mussulmans before it, and destroyed +them to a man.</p> +<p>This was the origin of the Turks’ Cellar; and although +the title is perhaps unjustly appropriated by the winehouse I +have mentioned, yet there is no doubt that the tale is true, and +that the house at any rate is near the spot from which its name +is taken. Grave citizens even believe that the underground +passage still exists, walled and roofed over with stone, and that +it leads directly to the Turks’ camp, at the foot of the +Leopoldiberg. They even know the size of it, namely, that +it is of such dimensions as to admit the marching through it of +six men abreast. Of this I know nothing; but I know from +the testimony of a venerable old lady—who is not the oldest +in Vienna—that the bakers’ apprentices were formerly +allowed special privileges in consideration of the service once +rendered by some of their body to the state. Indeed, the +procession of the bakers, on every returning anniversary of the +swamp-in of the Turks, when they marched horse and foot from the +Freiung, with banners, emblems, and music, through the heart of +the city to the grass-grown camp outside the city walls, was one +of the spectacles that made the deepest impression on this chatty +old lady in her childhood.</p> +<p>The Turks’ Cellar is still famous. It is noted +now, not for its bread or its canal-water, but for its white +wine, its baked veal, and its savoury chickens. Descend +into its depths (for it is truly a cellar and nothing else) late +in the evening, when citizens have time and money at their +disposal, and you find it full of jolly company. As well as +the tobacco-smoke will permit you to see what the place <!-- page +96--><a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +96</span>resembles, you would say that it is like nothing so much +as the after cabin of a Gravesend steamer on a summer Sunday +afternoon. There is just such a row of tables on each side; +just such a low roof; just such a thick palpable air, uncertain +light, and noisy steamy crowd of occupants. The place is +intolerable in itself, but fall-to upon the steaming block of +baked veal which is set before you; clear your throat of the +tobacco-smoke by mighty draughts of the pale yellow wine which is +its proper accompaniment; finally, fill a deep-bowled meerschaum +with Three Kings tobacco, creating for yourself your own private +and exclusive atmosphere, and you begin to feel the +situation. The temperature of mine host’s cellar aids +imagination greatly in recalling the idea of the old bakehouse, +and there comes over you, after a while, a sense of stifling that +mixes with the nightmare, usually constituting in this place an +after-supper nap. In the waking lethargy that succeeds, you +feel as if jostled in dark vaults by a mob of frantic Turks, +labouring heavily to get breath, and sucking in foul water for +air.</p> +<p>Possibly when fully awakened you begin to consider that the +Turks’ Cellar is not the most healthful place of recreation +to be in; and, cleaving the dense smoke, you ascend into +sunlight. Perhaps you stroll to some place where the air is +better, but which may still have a story quite as exciting as the +catastrophe of the imperial bakehouse: perhaps to Bertholdsdorf; +a pretty little market-town with a tall-steepled church, and a +half ruined battlement, situated on the hill slope about six +miles to the south of Vienna. It forms a pretty summer +day’s ramble. Its chronicler is the worthy +Markt-richter, or Town-justice, Jacob Trinksgeld; and his +unvarnished story, freely translated, runs thus:—</p> +<p>“When the Turkish army, two hundred thousand strong +without their allies, raised the siege of Raab, the retreating +host of rebels and Tartars were sent to overrun the whole of +Austria below the Enns on this side of the Danube, and to waste +it with fire and sword. This was done. On the ninth +of July, detached troops of Spahis and Tartars appeared before +the walls of Bertholdsdorf, but were beaten back by our armed +citizens. Those attacks were repeated on the tenth and +twelfth, and also repulsed; but as at this time the enemy met +with a determined resistance from the city of Vienna, which they +had invested, they gathered in increased force about our devoted +town, and on the fifteenth of July attacked us with such fury on +every side that, seeing it was no longer possible to hold out +<!-- page 97--><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>against them, partly from their great numbers, and +partly from our failing of powder; and, moreover, seeing that +they had already set fire to the town in several places, we were +compelled to seek shelter with our goods and chattels in the +church and fortress, neither of which were as yet touched by the +flames.</p> +<p>“On the sixteenth, the town itself being then in ashes, +there came a soldier dressed in the Turkish costume, save that he +wore the leather jerkin of a German horseman, into the high +street, and waving a white cloth, he called out in the Hungarian +language, to those of us who were in the fortress, that if we +would ask for grace, both we and ours should be protected, and a +safe conduct (salva quartier) given to us, that should be our +future defence. Thereupon we held honest counsel together, +citizens and neighbours then present, and in the meantime gave +reply, translated also into Hungarian, that if we should agree +thereto, we would set up a white flag upon the tower as a sign of +our submission. Early on the morning of the nineteenth of +July there came a Pasha from the camp at Vienna, at the head of a +great army, and with him the same Turk who had on the previous +day made the proposal to us. And the Pasha sat himself down +upon a red carpet spread on the bare ground, close by the house +of Herr Streninger, till we should agree to his terms. It +was five o’clock in the morning before we could make up our +minds.</p> +<p>“Then, when we were all willing to surrender, our +enemies demanded, in the first place, that two of our men should +march out of the fortress as hostages, and that two Turks should +take their places with us; and that a maiden, with loose +streaming hair, and a wreath upon her forehead, should bring +forth the key of the town, seeing that this place had never till +then been taken by an enemy. Further, they demanded six +thousand florins ransom from us, which, however, we abated to +four thousand, handing to them two thousand florins at once, upon +three dishes, with the request that the remainder should be +allowed to stand over till the forthcoming day of John the +Baptist. As soon as this money had been paid over to them, +the Pasha called such of our faithful garrison as were in the +church to come out and arrange themselves in the square, that he +might see how many safe-conducts were required; but, as each +armed man came to the door, his musket was torn out of his hand, +and such as resisted were dragged by the hair of the head into +the square by the Turks, and told that they would need no +weapons, seeing that <!-- page 98--><a name="page98"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 98</span>to those who sought for mercy, the +passes would be sufficient protection. And thus were our +arms carried away from us.</p> +<p>“As soon as the whole garrison, thus utterly +defenceless, were collected in the public square, there sprang +fifty Turks from their horses, and with great rudeness began +searching every one of them for money or other valuables; and the +citizens began already to see that they were betrayed into a +surrender, and some of them tried to make their +escape—among others, Herr Streninger, the town-justice; but +he was struck down immediately, and he was the first man +murdered. Upon this, the Pasha stood up, and began to call +out with a loud, clear voice to his troops, and as they heard his +words, they fell upon the unarmed men in the market-place, and +hewed them down with their scimitars without pity or +remorse—sparing none in their eagerness for the butchery, +and which, in spite of their haste, was not ended till between +one and two o’clock in the afternoon. Of all our +citizens, only two escaped the slaughter, and they contrived to +hide themselves in the tower; but those who fled out of the town +were captured by the Tartars, and instantly dispatched. +Then, having committed this cruel barbarism, they seized the +women and children who had been left for safety in the church, +and carried them away into slavery, taking care to burn and +utterly destroy the fortress ere they departed. And when +Vienna was relieved, and the good people there came among the +ruins of Bertholdsdorf, they gathered together the headless and +mangled remains of our murdered citizens to the number of three +thousand five hundred, and buried them all in one +grave.”</p> +<p>In “eternal remembrance” of this catastrophe, the +worthy town-justice, Trinksgeld, in seventeen hundred ordered a +painting to be executed, representing the fearful scene +described. It occupies the whole of one side of the +Town-hall, and in its quaint minuteness of detail, and defiance +of perspective—depicting, not merely the slaughter of the +betrayed Bertholdsdorfers, but the concealment of the two who +were fortunate enough to escape, and who are helplessly apparent +behind some loose timber—would be ludicrous, were it not +for the sacred gravity of the subject.</p> +<p>As it is, we quit the romantic little town with a sigh, and +turning our faces towards Vienna, wonder what the young Turks of +eighteen hundred and fifty-four may possibly think of the Old +Turks of one hundred and thirty years ago.</p> +<h2><!-- page 99--><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">a taste of austrian +jails</span>.</p> +<p>At the “Fete de Dieu,” in Vienna (the +<i>Frohnleichnamsfest</i>), religious rites are not confined to +the places of worship—the whole city becomes a +church. Altars rise in every street, and high mass is +performed in the open air, amid clouds of incense and showers of +holy water. The Emperor himself and his family swell the +procession.</p> +<p>I had taken a cheering glass of Kronewetter with the worthy +landlord of my lodgings, and sauntered forth to observe the +day’s proceedings. I crossed the Platz of St. Ulrick, +and thence proceeded to the high street of Mariahilf—an +important suburb of Vienna. I passed two stately altars on +my way, and duly raised my hat, in obedience to the custom of the +country. A little crowd was collected round the parish +church of Mariahilf; and, anticipating that a procession would +pass, I took my stand among the rest of the expectant +populace. A few assistant police, in light blue-grey +uniforms with green facings, kept the road.</p> +<p>A bustle about the church-door, and a band of priests, +attendants, and—what pleased me most—a troop of +pretty little girls came, two and two, down the steps, and into +the road. I remember nothing of the procession but those +beautiful and innocent children, adorned with wreaths and ribbons +for the occasion. I was thinking of the rosy faces I had +left at home, when my reflections were interrupted by a +peremptory voice, exclaiming, “Take off your +hat!” I should have obeyed with alacrity at any other +moment; but there was something in the manner and tone of the +“Polizeidiener’s” address which touched my +pride, and made me obstinate. I drew back a little. +The order was repeated; the crowd murmured. I half turned +to go; but, the next moment, my hat was struck off my head by the +police-assistant.</p> +<p>What followed was mere confusion. I struck the +“Polizeidiener;” and, in return, received several +blows on the head from behind with <!-- page 100--><a +name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>a heavy +stick. In less than ten minutes I was lodged in the +police-office of the district; my hat broken and my clothes +bespattered with the blood which had dropped, and was still +dropping, from the wounds in my head.</p> +<p>I had full time to reflect upon the obstinate folly which had +produced this result; nor were my reflections enlivened by the +manners of the police-agents attached to the office. They +threatened me with heavy pains and punishments; and the +Polizeidiener whom I had struck, assured me, while stanching his +still-bleeding nose, that I should have at least “three +months for this.”</p> +<p>After several hours’ waiting in the dreary office, I was +abruptly called into the commissioner’s room. The +commissioner was seated at a table with writing materials before +him, and commenced immediately, in a sharp offensive tone, a +species of examination. After my name and country had been +demanded, he asked:</p> +<p>“Of what religion are you?”</p> +<p>“I am a Protestant.”</p> +<p>“So! Leave the room.”</p> +<p>I had made no complaint of my bruises, because I did not think +this the proper place to do so; although the man who dealt them +was present. He had assisted, stick in hand, in taking me +to the police-office. He was in earnest conversation with +the Polizeidiener, but soon left the office. From that +instant I never saw him again; nor, in spite of repeated demands, +could I ever obtain redress for, or even recognition of, the +violence I had suffered.</p> +<p>Another weary hour, and I was consigned to the care of a +police-soldier; who, armed with sabre and stick, conducted me +through the crowded city to prison. It was then two +o’clock.</p> +<p>The prison, situated in the Spengler Gasse, is called the +“Polizei-Haupt-Direction.” We descended a +narrow gut, which had no outlet, except through the prison +gates. They were slowly opened at the summons of my +conductor. I was beckoned into a long gloomy apartment, +lighted from one side only, and having a long counter running +down its centre; chains and handcuffs hung upon the walls.</p> +<p>An official was standing behind the counter. He asked me +abruptly:</p> +<p>“Whence come you?”</p> +<p>“From England,” I answered.</p> +<p>“Where’s that?”</p> +<p><!-- page 101--><a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +101</span>“In Great Britain; close to France.”</p> +<p>The questioner behind the counter cast an inquiring look at my +escort:—</p> +<p>“Is it so?” he asked.</p> +<p>The subordinate answered him in a pleasant way, that I had +spoken the truth. Happily an Englishman, it seems, is a +rarity within those prison walls.</p> +<p>I was passed into an adjoining room, which reminded me of the +back parlour of a Holywell Street clothes shop, only that it was +rather lighter. Its sides consisted entirely of sets of +great pigeon-holes, each occupied by the habiliments or effects +of some prisoner.</p> +<p>“Have you any valuables?”</p> +<p>“Few enough.” My purse, watch, and pin were +rendered up, ticketed, and, deposited in one of the +compartments. I was then beckoned into a long paved passage +or corridor down some twenty stone steps, into the densest +gloom. Presently I discerned before me a massive door +studded with bosses, and crossed with bars and bolts. A +police-soldier, armed with a drawn sabre, guarded the entrance to +Punishment Room No. 1. The bolts gave way; and, in a few +moments, I was a prisoner within.</p> +<p>Punishment Room No. 1, is a chamber some fifteen paces long by +six broad, with a tolerably high ceiling and whitened +walls. It has but two windows, and they are placed at each +end of one side of the chamber. They are of good height, +and look out upon an inclosed gravelled space, variegated with a +few patches of verdure. The room is tolerably light. +On each side are shelves, as in barracks, for sleeping. In +one corner, by the window, is a stone sink; in another, a good +supply of water.</p> +<p>Such is the prison; but the prisoners! There were +forty-eight—grey-haired men and puny boys—all ragged, +and stalking with slippered feet from end to end with listless +eyes. Some, all eagerness; some, crushed and motionless; +some, scared and stupid; now singing, now swearing, now rushing +about playing at some mad game; now hushed or whispering, as the +loud voice of the Vater (or father of the ward) is heard above +the uproar, calling out “Ruhe!” +(“Order!”)</p> +<p>On my entrance I was instantly surrounded by a dozen of the +younger jail-birds, amid a shout of “Ein Zuwachs! Ein +Zuwachs!” which I was not long in understanding to be the +name given to the last comer. “Was haben sie?” +(What have you done?) was the next <!-- page 102--><a +name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 102</span>eager +cry. “Struck a Polizeidiener!” “Ei! +das ist gut!” was the hearty exclamation; and I was a +favourite immediately. One dirty villanous-looking fellow, +with but one eye, and very little light in that, took to handling +my clothes; then inquired if I had any money “up +above?” Upon my answering in the affirmative my +popularity immediately increased. They soon made me +understand that I could “draw” upon the pigeon-hole +bank to indulge in any such luxuries as beer or tobacco.</p> +<p>People breakfast early in Vienna; and, as I had tasted nothing +since that meal, I was very hungry; but I was not to starve; for +soon we heard the groaning of bolts and locks, and the +police-soldier who guarded the door appeared, bearing in his hand +a red earthen pot, surmounted by a round flat loaf of bread +“for the Englishman.” I took my portion with +thanks, and found that the pipkin contained a thick porridge made +of lentils, prepared with meal and fat; in the midst of which was +a piece of fresh boiled beef. The cake was of a darkish +colour; but good wholesome bread. Altogether, the meal was +not unsavoury. Many a greedy eye watched me as I sat on the +end of the hard couch, eating my dinner. One wretched man +seeing that I did not eat all, whispered a proposal to barter his +dirty neckerchief—which he took off in my +presence—for half of my loaf. I satisfied his +desires, but declined the recompense. My half-emptied +pipkin was thankfully taken by another man, under the pretence of +“cleaning it.”</p> +<p>One of my fellow-prisoners approached me.</p> +<p>“It is getting late,” said he; “do you know +what you have got to do?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“You are the Zuwachs (latest accession), and it is your +business to empty and clean out the ‘Kiefel’” +(the sink, etc.)</p> +<p>“The devil!”</p> +<p>“But I dare say,” he added, carelessly, “if +you pay the Vater a ‘mass-bier,’” (something +less than a quart of beer), “he will make some of the boys +do it for you.”</p> +<p>“With all my heart.”</p> +<p>“Have you a rug?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“You must ask the Corporal, at seven o’clock; but +I dare say the Vater will find you one—for a +‘mass-bier’—if you ask him.”</p> +<p><!-- page 103--><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +103</span>I saw that a mass-bier would do a great deal in an +Austrian prison.</p> +<p>The Vater, who was a prisoner like the rest, was appealed +to. He was a tall, burly-looking young man, with a frank +countenance. He had quitted his honest calling of butcher, +and had taken to smuggling tobacco into the city. This is a +heavy crime; for the growth, manufacture, and sale of tobacco is +a strict Imperial monopoly. Accordingly, his punishment had +been proportionately severe—two years’ +imprisonment. The sentence was now approaching completion; +and, on account of good conduct, he had received the appointment +of Vater to Punishment Room No. 1. The benefits were +enumerated to me with open eyes by one of the +prisoners—“Double rations, two rugs, and a mass-bier +a day!”</p> +<p>The result of my application to the Vater was the instant +calling out of several young lads, who crouched all day in the +darkest end of the room—a condemned corner, abounding in +vermin; and I heard no more of the sink and so forth. The +next day a newcomer occupied my position.</p> +<p>At about seven o’clock the bolts were again withdrawn, +the ponderous door opened, and the Corporal—who seemed to +fill the office of ward-inspector—marched into the +chamber. He was provided with a small note-book and a +pencil, and made a general inquiry into the wants and complaints +of the prisoners. Several of them asked for little +indulgences. All these were duly noted down to be complied +with the next day—always supposing that the prisoner +possessed a small capital “up above.” I stepped +forward, and humbly made my request for a rug. +“You!” exclaimed the Corporal, eyeing me +sharply. “Oh! you are the +Englishman?—No!”</p> +<p>I heard some one near me mutter: “So; struck a +policeman! No mercy for him from the other +policemen—any of them.”</p> +<p>The Vater dared not help me; but two of his most intimate +friends made me lie down between them; and, swaddled in their +rugs, I passed the night miserably. The hard boards, and +the vermin, effectually broke my slumbers.</p> +<p>The morning came. The rules of the prison required that +we should all rise at six, roll up the rugs, lay them at the +heads of our beds, and sweep out the room. Weary and sore, +I paced the prison while these things were done. Even the +morning ablution was comfortless and distressing; a +pocket-handkerchief serving but indifferently for a towel.</p> +<p><!-- page 104--><a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +104</span>Restless activity now took full possession of the +prisoners. There was not the combined shouting or singing +of the previous day; but there was independent action, which +broke out in various ways. Hunger had roused them; the +prison allowance is one meal a day: and although, by husbanding +the supply, some few might eke it out into several repasts, the +majority had no such control over their appetite. Tall, +gaunt lads, just starting into men, went roaming about with wild +eyes, purposeless, pipkin in hand, although hours must elapse +before the meal would come. Caged beasts pace their narrow +prisons with the same uniform and unvarying motion.</p> +<p>At last eleven o’clock came. The barred door +opened, and swiftly, yet with a terrible restraint—knowing +that the least disorder would cost them a day’s +dinner—the prisoners mounted the stone steps, and passed +slowly, in single file, before two enormous caldrons. A +cook, provided with a long ladle, stood by the side of each; and, +with a dexterous plunge and a twist, a portion of porridge and a +small block of beef were fished up and dashed into the pipkin +extended by each prisoner. Another official stood ready +with the flat loaves. In a very short time, the whole of +the prisoners were served.</p> +<p>Hunger seasoned the mess; and I was sitting on the +bedstead-end enjoying it, when the police-soldier appeared on the +threshold, calling me by name.</p> +<p>“You must leave—instantly.”</p> +<p>“I am ready,” I said, starting up.</p> +<p>“Have you a rug?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>I hurried out into the dark passage. I was conducted to +the left; another heavy door was loosened, and I was thrust into +a gloomy cell, bewildered, and almost speechless with +alarm. I was not alone. Some half-dozen melancholy +wretches, crouching in one corner, were disturbed by my entrance; +but half-an-hour had scarcely elapsed, when the police-soldier +again appeared, and I was hurried out. We proceeded through +the passage by which I had first entered. In my way past +the nest of pigeon-holes “up above,” my valuables +were restored to me. Presently a single police-soldier led +me into the open street.</p> +<p>The beautiful air and sunshine! how I enjoyed them as we +passed through the heart of the city. “Bei’m +Magistrat,” at the corner of the Kohlmarkt was our +destination. We entered its porticoed door, ascended the +stone stairs, and went into a small office, where <!-- page +105--><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +105</span>the most repulsive-looking official I have anywhere +seen, noted my arrival in a book. Thence we passed into +another pigeon-holed chamber, where I delivered up my little +property, as before, “for its security.” A few +minutes more, and I was safely locked in a small chamber, having +one window darkened by a wooden blind. My companions were a +few boys, a courier—who, to my surprise, addressed me in +English—and a man with blazing red hair.</p> +<p>In this place I passed four days, occupied by what I suppose I +may designate “my trial.” The first day was +enlivened by a violent attack which the jailer made upon the +red-haired man for looking out of window. He seized the +fiery locks, and beat their owner’s head against the +wall. I had to submit that day to a degrading medical +examination.</p> +<p>On the second day I was called to appear before the +“<i>Rath</i>,” or counsel. The process of +examination is curious. It is considered necessary to the +complete elucidation of a case, that the whole life and parentage +of the accused should be made known; and I was thus exposed to a +series of questions which I had never anticipated:—The +names and countries of both of my parents; their station; the +ages, names, and birthplaces of my brothers and sisters; my own +babyhood, education, subsequent behaviour, and adventures; my own +account, with the minutest details of the offence I had +committed. It was more like a private conference than an +examination. The Rath was alone—with the exception of +his secretary, who diligently recorded my answers. While +being thus perseveringly catechised, the Rath sauntered up and +down; putting his interminable questions in a friendly chatty +way, as though he were taking a kindly interest in my history, +rather than pursuing a judicial investigation. When the +examination was concluded, the secretary read over every word to +me, and I confirmed the report with my signature.</p> +<p>The Rath promised to do what he could for me; and I was then +surprised and pleased by the entrance of my employer. The +Rath recommended him to write to the English Embassy in my +behalf, and allowed him to send me outer clothing better suited +to the interior of a prison than the best clothes I had donned to +spend the holiday in.</p> +<p>I went back to my cell with a lightened heart. I was, +however, a little disconcerted on my return by the courier, who +related an anecdote of a groom, of his acquaintance, who had +persisted in <!-- page 106--><a name="page106"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 106</span>smoking a cigar while passing a +sentinel; and who, in punishment therefor, had been beaten by a +number of soldiers, with willow rods; and whose yells of pain had +been heard far beyond the prison walls. What an +anticipation! Was I to be similarly served? I thought +it rather a suspicious circumstance that my new friend appeared +to be thoroughly conversant with all the details (I suspect from +personal experience) of the police and prison system of +Vienna. He told me (but I had no means of testing the +correctness of his information) that there were twenty +Rathsherrn, or Counsellors; that each had his private chamber, +and was assisted by a confidential secretary; that every offender +underwent a private examination by the Rath appointed to +investigate his case—the Rath having the power to call all +witnesses, and to examine them, singly, or otherwise, as he +thought proper; that on every Thursday the +“Rathsherrn” met in conclave; that each Rath brought +forward the particular cases which he had investigated, explained +all their bearings, attested his report by documentary evidence +prepared by his secretary, and pronounced his opinion as to the +amount of punishment to be inflicted. The question was then +decided by a majority.</p> +<p>On the third day, I was suddenly summoned before the Rath, and +found myself side by side with my accuser. He was in +private clothes.</p> +<p>“Herr Tuci,” exclaimed the Rath, trying to +pronounce my name, but utterly disguising it, “you have +misinformed me. The constable says he did not <i>knock</i> +your hat off—he only <i>pulled</i> it off.”</p> +<p>I adhered to my statement. The Polizeidiener nudged my +elbow, and whispered, “Don’t be alarmed—it will +not go hard with you.”</p> +<p>“Now, constable,” said the Rath; “what harm +have you suffered in this affair?”</p> +<p>“My uniform is stained with blood.”</p> +<p>“From <i>my</i> head!” I exclaimed.</p> +<p>“From <i>my</i> nose,” interposed the +Polizeidiener.</p> +<p>“In any case it will wash out,” said the Rath.</p> +<p>“And you,” he added, turning to +me,—“are you willing to indemnify this man for damage +done?”</p> +<p>I assented; and was then removed.</p> +<p>On the following morning I was again summoned to the +Rath’s chamber. His secretary, who was alone, met me +with smiles and congratulations: he announced to me the +sentence—four days’ <!-- page 107--><a +name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +107</span>imprisonment. I am afraid I did not evince that +degree of pleasure which was expected from me; but I thanked him, +was removed, and, in another hour, was reconducted to Punishment +Room No. 1.</p> +<p>The four days of sentence formed the lightest part of the +adventure. My mind was at ease: I knew the worst. +Additions to my old companions had arrived in the interval. +We had an artist among us, who was allowed, in consideration of +his talents, to retain a sharp cutting implement fashioned by +himself from a flat piece of steel—knives and books being, +as the most dangerous objects in prison, rigidly abstracted from +us. He manufactured landscapes in straw, gummed upon pieces +of blackened wood. Straw was obtained, in a natural state, +of green, yellow, and brown; and these, when required, were +converted into differently-tinted reds, by a few hours’ +immersion in the Kiefel. He also kneaded bread in the hand, +until it became as plastic as clay. This he modelled into +snuffboxes (with strips of rag for hinges, and a piece of +whalebone for a spring), draughts, chess-men, pipe-bowls, and +other articles. When dry, they became hard and serviceable; +and he sold them among the prisoners and the prison +officials. He obtained thus a number of comforts not +afforded by the prison regulations.</p> +<p>On Sunday, I attended the Catholic chapel attached to the +prison—a damp unwholesome cell. I stood among a knot +of prisoners, enveloped in a nauseous vapour; for there arose +musty, mouldy, effluvia which gradually overpowered my +senses. I felt them leaving me, and tottered towards the +door. I was promptly met by a man who seemed provided for +emergencies of the kind; for he held a vessel of cold water, +poured some of it into my hands, and directed me to bathe my +temples. I partly recovered; and, faint and dispirited, +staggered back to the prison. I had not, however, lain long +upon my bed (polished and slippery from constant use), when the +prison guard came to my side, holding in his hand a smoking basin +of egg soup “for the Englishman.” It was sent +by the mistress of the kitchen. I received the offering of +a kind heart to a foreigner in trouble, with a blessing on the +donor.</p> +<p>On the following Tuesday, after an imprisonment of, in all, +nine days, during which I had never slept without my clothes, I +was discharged from the prison. In remembrance of the +place, I brought <!-- page 108--><a name="page108"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 108</span>away with me a straw landscape and a +bread snuff-box, the works of the prison artist.</p> +<p>On reaching my lodging I looked into my box. It was +empty.</p> +<p>“Where are my books and papers?” I asked my +landlord.</p> +<p>The police had taken them on the day after my arrest.</p> +<p>“And my bank-notes?”</p> +<p>“Here they are!” exclaimed my landlord, +triumphantly. “I expected the police; I knew you had +money somewhere, so I took the liberty of searching until I found +it. The police made particular inquiries about your cash, +and went away disappointed, taking the other things with +them.”</p> +<p>“Would they have appropriated it?”</p> +<p>“Hem! Very likely—under pretence of paying +your expenses.”</p> +<p>On application to the police of the district, I received the +whole of my effects back. One of my books was detained for +about a week; a member of the police having taken it home to +read, and being, as I apprehend, a slow reader.</p> +<p>It was matter of great astonishment, both to my friends and to +the police, that I escaped with so slight a punishment.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">what my landlord +believed</span>.</p> +<p>My Bohemian landlord in Vienna told me a story of an English +nobleman. It may be worth relating, as showing what my +landlord, quite in good faith and earnest, believed.</p> +<p>You know, Lieber Herr, said Vater Böhm, there is nothing +in the whole Kaiserstadt so astonishing to strangers as our +signboards. Those beautiful paintings that you see—Am +Graben and Hohe Markt,—real works of art, with which the +sign-boards of other countries are no more to be compared, than +your hum-drum English music is to the delicious waltzes of +Lanner, or the magic polkas of Strauss. Imagine an +Englishman, who knows nothing of painting, finding himself all at +once in front of one of those charming +compositions—pictures that they would make a gallery of in +<!-- page 109--><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +109</span>London, but which we can afford to put out of doors; he +is fixed, he is dumb with astonishment and delight—he goes +mad. Well, Lieber Herr, this is exactly what happened to +one of your English nobility. Milor arrived in Vienna; and +as he had made a wager that he would see every notability in the +city and its environs in the course of three days, which was all +the time he could spare, he hired a fiaker at the Tabor-Linie, +and drove as fast as the police would let him from church to +theatre; from museum to wine-cellar; till chance and the fiaker +brought him into the Graben. Milor got out to stretch +himself, and to see the wonderful shops, and after a few turns +came suddenly upon the house at the sign of the Joan of Arc.</p> +<p>“Goddam!” exclaimed Milor, as his eye met the +sign-board.</p> +<p>There he stood, this English nobleman, in his drab coat with +pearl buttons, his red neckcloth, blue pantaloons and white hat, +transfixed for at least five minutes. Then, swearing some +hard oaths—a thing the English always do when they are +particularly pleased—Milor exclaimed, “It is +exquisite! Holy Lord Mayor, it is unbelievable!”</p> +<p>Mein Lieber, you have seen that painting of course, I mean +Joan of Arc, life-size, clad in steel, sword in hand, and with a +wonderful serenity expressed in her countenance, as she leads her +flagging troops once more to the attack upon the walls. It +has all the softness of a Coreggio, and the vigour of a +Rubens. Milor gave three bounds, and was in the middle of +the shop in a moment.</p> +<p>“That picture!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>“What picture—Eurer Gnaden?” inquired the +shopkeeper, bowing in the most elegant manner.</p> +<p>“It hangs at your door—Joan of Arc, I wish to buy +it.”</p> +<p>“It is not for sale, Eurer Gnaden.”</p> +<p>“Bah!” ejaculated Milor, “I must have +it. I will cover it with guineas.”</p> +<p>“It is impossible.”</p> +<p>“How impossible?” cried Milor, diving into the +capacious pocket of the drab coat with the pearl buttons, and +drawing forth a heavy roll of English bank-notes, +“I’ll bet you anything you like that it is +possible.”</p> +<p>You know, mein Lieber, that the English settle everything by a +wager; indeed, betting and swearing is about all their language +is fit for. For a fact, there were once two English +noblemen, from Manchester or some such ancient place, who +journeyed down the <!-- page 110--><a name="page110"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 110</span>Rhine on the steam-boat. They +looked neither to the right nor to the left; neither at the +vine-fields nor the old castles; but sat at a table, silent and +occupied with nothing before them but two lumps of sugar, and two +heaps of guineas. A little crowd gathered round them +wondering what it might mean. Suddenly one of them cried +out, “Goddam, it’s mine!” “What is +yours?” inquired one who stood by, gaping with +curiosity. “Don’t you see,” replied the +other, “I bet twenty guineas level, that the first fly +would alight upon my lump of sugar, and by God, I’ve won +it!”</p> +<p>To return to Milor. “I’ll bet you anything +you like that it is possible,” said he.</p> +<p>“Your grace,” replied the shopkeeper, “my +Joan of Arc is beyond price to me. It draws all the town to +my shop; not forgetting the foreigners.”</p> +<p>“I will buy your shop,” said the Englishman.</p> +<p>“Milor! Graf Schweinekopf von Pimplestein called +only yesterday to see it, and Le Comte de Barbebiche.”</p> +<p>“A Frenchman!” shouted Milor.</p> +<p>“From Paris, your grace.”</p> +<p>“Will you sell me your Joan of Arc?” was the +furious demand. “I will cover it with pounds sterling +twice over.”</p> +<p>“Le Comte de Barbebiche—”</p> +<p>“You have promised it to him?”</p> +<p>“Yes!” gasped Herr Wechsel, catching at the +idea.</p> +<p>“Enough!” cried the English nobleman; and he +strode into the street. With one impassioned glance at the +figure of La Pucelle, he threw himself into his fiaker, and drove +rapidly out of sight.</p> +<p>On reaching his hotel, he chose two pairs of boxing gloves, a +set of rapiers, and a case of duelling pistols; and, thus loaded, +descended to his fiaker, tossed them in, and started off in the +direction of the nearest hotel. “Le Comte de +Barbebiche”—that was the pass-word; but everywhere it +failed to elicit the desired reply. He passed from street +to street—from gasthaus to gasthaus—everywhere the +same dreary negative; and the day waned, and his search was still +unsuccessful. But he never relaxed; the morning found him +still pursuing his inquiries; and midday saw him at the porte +cochére of the Hotel of the Holy Ghost, in the Rothenthurm +Strasse, with his case of duelling pistols in his hand, his set +of rapiers under his arm, and his two pairs of boxing-gloves +slung round his neck.</p> +<p>“Deliver my card immediately to the Comte,” said +he to the <!-- page 111--><a name="page111"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 111</span>attendant; “and tell him I am +waiting.” He had found him out. Luckily, the +Comte de Barbebiche happened to be in the best possible humour +when this message was conveyed to him, having just succeeded in +dyeing his moustache to his entire satisfaction. He glanced +at the card—smiled at himself complacently in the mirror +before him, and answered in a gracious voice, “Let Milor +Mountpleasant come up.”</p> +<p>Milor was soon heard upon the stairs; and, as he strode into +the room, he flung his set of rapiers with a clatter on the +floor, dashed his case of duelling pistols on the table, and with +a dexterous twist sent one pair of boxing-gloves rolling at the +feet of the Comte, while, pulling on the other, he stood in an +attitude of defence before the astonished Frenchman.</p> +<p>“What is this?” inquired the Comte de +Barbebiche.</p> +<p>“This is the alternative,” cried the +Englishman. “Here are weapons; take your +choice—pistols, rapiers, or the gloves. Fight with +one of them you must and shall, or abandon your claim to Joan of +Arc.”</p> +<p>“Mon Dieu! What Joan of Arc? I do not have +the felicity of knowing the lady.”</p> +<p>“You may see her, Am Graben,” gravely replied +Milor, “outside a shop door, done in oil.”</p> +<p>“Heh!” exclaimed the astonished Comte, “in +oil—an Esquimaux, or a Tartar, pray?”</p> +<p>“Monsieur le Comte, I want no trifling. Do you +persist in the purchase of this picture? I have set my +heart upon it; I love it; I have sworn to possess it. Make +it a matter of money, and I will give you a thousand pounds for +your bargain; make it a matter of dispute, and I will fight you +for it to the death; make it a matter of friendship, and yield up +your right, and I will embrace you as a brother, and be your +debtor for the rest of my life.”</p> +<p>The Comte de Barbebiche—seeing that he had to do with an +Englishman a degree, at least, more crazed than the rest of his +countrymen—entered into the spirit of the matter at once, +and chose the easiest means of extricating himself from a +difficulty.</p> +<p>“Milor,” he exclaimed, advancing towards him, +“I am charmed with your sentiments, your courage, and your +integrity. Take her, Milor—take your Joan of Arc; I +would not attempt to deprive you of her if she were a real flesh +and blood Pucelle, and my own sister.”</p> +<p><!-- page 112--><a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +112</span>The Englishman, with a grand oath, seized the +Comte’s hand in both his own, and shook it heartily; then +scrambling up his paraphernalia of war, spoke a hurried farewell, +and disappeared down the stairs.</p> +<p>The grey of the morning saw Milor in full evening costume, +pacing the Graben with hurried steps, watching with anxious eyes +the shop front where his beloved was wont to hang. He saw +her carried out like a shutter from the house, and duly suspended +on the appointed hook. She had lost none of her charms, and +he stood with arms folded upon his breast, entranced for awhile +before the figure of the valiant maiden.</p> +<p>“Herr Wechsel,” said he abruptly, as he entered +the shop; “Le Comte de Barbebiche has ceded his claim to +me. I repeat my offer for your Joan of Arc—decide at +once, for I am in a hurry.”</p> +<p>It certainly does appear surprising that Herr Wechsel did not +close in with the offer at once; perhaps he really had an +affection for his picture; perhaps he thought to improve the +bargain; or, more probably, looking upon his strange customer as +so undoubtedly mad, as to entertain serious fears as to his ever +receiving the money. Certain it is, that he respectfully +declined to sell.</p> +<p>“You refuse!” shouted Milor, striking his clenched +fist upon the counter; “then, by Jove! I’ll—but +never mind!” and he strode into the street.</p> +<p>The dusk of the evening saw Milor in the dress of a porter, +pacing the Graben with a steady step. He halted in front of +his cherished Joan; with the utmost coolness and deliberation +unhooked the painting from its nail, and placing it carefully, +and with the air of a workman, upon his shoulder, stalked away +with his precious burden.</p> +<p>Imagine the consternation of Herr Wechsel upon the discovery +of his loss. His pride, his delight, the chief ornament of +his shop was gone; and, moreover, he had lost his money. +But his sorrow was changed into surprise, and his half-tearful +eyes twinkled with satisfaction as he read the following epistle, +delivered into his hands within an hour after the +occurrence:—</p> +<blockquote><p>“Sir,—You will find placed to your +credit in the Imperial Bank of Vienna the sum of five thousand +pounds, the amount proffered for your Joan of Arc. Your +obstinacy has driven me into the commission of a +misdemeanour. God forgive you. But I have kept my +word.</p> +<p>“I am already beyond your reach, and you will search in +vain for my trace. <!-- page 113--><a +name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 113</span>In +consideration for your feelings, and to cause you as little +annoyance as possible, I have placed <i>my</i> Joan of Arc into +the hands of a skilful artist; and I trust to forward you as +accurate a copy as can be made.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">“Yours, <span +class="smcap">Mountpleasant</span>.”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>And Milor kept his word, mein Lieber, and the copy hangs Am +Graben to this day in the place of the original. The +original shines among the paintings in the splendid collection of +Milor at Mountpleasant Castle.</p> +<p>I will not pretend to say, concluded Vater Böhm, +reloading his pipe, that the English have any taste, but they +certainly have a strange passion for pictures; and, let them once +get an idea into their heads, they are the most obstinate people +in the world in the pursuit of it.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">an execution at +vienna</span>.</p> +<p>Carl Fickte, a native of Vienna, stood condemned for +execution. His crime was murder. He was convicted of +having enveigled his nephew, of eight years old, to the +Mölker bastion of the city fortification, and of having +thrown him over the parapet into the dry ditch below. The +depth of the fall was between thirty and forty feet, and the +shattered body of the boy explained his miserable death. +His nephew’s cloak became loosened in the struggle, and +remained in the hands of Fickte, who sold it, and spent the +produce in a night’s debauch. This cloak led to the +discovery of the murderer, and after a lapse of eight months to +his conviction and execution.</p> +<p>I had resolved to witness the last act of the law, and started +from home at six o’clock on the appointed morning. A +white mist filled the air, and gradually thickened into rain; and +by the time I had reached the spot—a distance of about two +miles—a smart shower was falling. The place of +execution is a field in the outskirts of the city, bounded on one +side by the main road, and close to the “Spinnerinn am +Kreuz,” an ancient stone cross, standing on <!-- page +114--><a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>the edge of the highway. From this spot a +beautiful view of the city is obtained.</p> +<p>The crowd was already gathering, and carts, benches, and +platforms were in course of arrangement by enterprising +speculators, for the accommodation of the people. A low +bank which skirted the field was soon occupied, and every swell +of the ground was taken advantage of. Soon the rain fell in +torrents, and the earth became sodden and yielding; but no +pelting shower, no sinking clay, could drive the anxious crowd +from the attractive spectacle. Still on they came, men and +women together; laughing and joking; their clothes tucked about +them, and umbrella-laden. Over the field; on to the +slippery bank, whence, every now and again, arose a burst of +uproar and laughter, as some part of the mound gave way, and +precipitated a snugly-packed crowd into the swamp below.</p> +<p>Venders of fruit, sausages, bread, and spirits, occupied every +eligible situation, and from the early hour, and the unprepared +state of the spectators, found abundant patronage.</p> +<p>A clatter was heard from the city side, and a body of mounted +police galloped along the high road, halted at the gallows, and +formed themselves into a hollow square around it. The +gibbet was unlike our own, it had no platform, and no steps; but +was a simple frame formed by two strong upright, and one +horizontal beam. There was a little entanglement of pulleys +and ropes, which I learned to understand at a later hour.</p> +<p>Still the rain came pouring down, in one uninterrupted flood, +that nothing but the excitement of a public execution could +withstand. And still the people clustered together in a +dense crowd, under the open air and pelting rain, shifting and +reeling, splashing and staggering, till the field became trodden +into a heavy, clinging paste of a full foot deep. But no +one left the spot; they had come for the sight, and see it they +would. Over the whole field and bank, and rising ground, a +perfect sea of umbrellas waved and swayed with the crowd, as they +vainly sought a firmer resting place among the clogging +clay. An hour went by, but there was no change, except a +continued accession to the crowd. It was wonderful how +patiently they stood under the watery hurricane; helplessly +embedded in a slimy swamp; feverish and anxious; with no thought +but the looming gallows, towards which all eyes were turned, and +the miserable culprit, whose sudden end they were awaiting to +see.</p> +<p>Fagged, at length, and soaked with rain, I left the slough, +and <!-- page 115--><a name="page115"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 115</span>gaining the highroad, pressed +towards the city to meet the cavalcade. A rushing of +people, and a confused cry, told me of its approach. +“There he is!” Yes, there! in that open cart, +surrounded by mounted police, and pressed on all sides by a +hurrying crowd. On either side of him sit the prison +officials; while in front, an energetic priest, with all the +vehemence and gesticulation of the wildest religious fervour, is +evidently urging him to repentance.</p> +<p>It is the law of Austria, that no criminal, however distinctly +his crime may have been proved by circumstantial evidence, can +suffer death, till he has himself confirmed the evidence by +confession. But any artifice can be lawfully employed to +entrap him into an acknowledgment of his guilt; therefore, +although the sentence of the law may often be deferred, it is +rare indeed that its completion is averted. Fickte had of +course confessed. A flush was on his face; but there was no +life or intellectual spirit there.</p> +<p>Another battle with the crowd, and I stood in the rear of the +gibbet. After a weary interval, the +scharfrichter—executioner—mounted, by means of a +ladder, to the cross beam of the gallows. By the action of +a wheel the culprit slowly rose into the air, but still +unhurt. Three broad leathern straps confined his arms; and +perfectly motionless, held in a perpendicular position by cordage +fixed to the ground, and to the beam above, he awaited his +death. No cap covered his face. A looped cord passing +through another pulley, was placed under his chin, the cord +running along the cross-beam, and the end fixed to a wheel at the +side of the gibbet.</p> +<p>The culprit kissed the crucifix; a single turn of the wheel; a +hoarse cry of “Down with the umbrellas!” and his life +had passed away; though no cry, no struggle, announced its +departure. The scharfrichter laid his hand upon the heart +of the criminal, then, assured of his death, descended. And +still, amid the incessant rain, with eager eyes bent upon the +dead, the crowd waited, gloating on the sight. According to +the sentence of the law, the corpse, with nothing to hide its +discoloured and distorted features, remained hanging till the +setting of the sun.</p> +<p>Ashamed, wearied, and horrified, I hurried home; only halting +on my way to purchase the “Todesurtheil,” or +“Death-sentence,” which was being cried about the +streets. This is an official document, and indeed the only +one with which the people of Vienna are gratified on such a +subject. Trials are not public, nor can <!-- page 116--><a +name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>they be +reported; and although the whole of the details invariably ooze +out through the police, no authentic account appears before the +public till the sentence is carried out.</p> +<p>The “Todesurtheil” appears, like our “Last +Dying Speech,” at the time of the execution, but contains +no verses; being a simple, and very brief narrative of the life +and crime of the condemned. He is designated by his +initials only, out of delicacy to his relatives, although his +real name is, somehow or other, already well known.</p> +<p>Six months later there occurred another execution, but I had +no curiosity to witness it. The condemned was a soldier, +who, in a fit of jealousy, had fired upon his mistress; but +killed a bystander instead. There was no mystery about the +affair, and he was condemned to death.</p> +<p>On the day previous to his execution, he was allowed to +receive the visits of his friends and the public. Only a +single person was admitted at a time. He awaited his +visitor (in this instance, an acquaintance of my own), with +calmness and resolution; advanced with outstretched hand to meet +him; greeting him with a hearty salutation. The visitor, +totally unprepared for this, trembled with a cold shudder, as he +received the pressure of the murderer’s hand; murmured a +blessing; dropped a few coin into the box for the especial +benefit of his soul, and hurriedly withdrew.</p> +<p>On the following morning the condemned quitted his prison for +the gibbet. But the soldier, unlike the civilian—the +soldier who has forfeited his right to a military +execution—must walk to his death. The civilian rides +in the felon’s cart; the soldier, in undress, must pace the +weary way on foot. Imagine a death-condemned criminal +walking from the Old Bailey to Copenhagen Fields to the gallows, +and you have a parallel case.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">a jail episode</span>.</p> +<p>While in the full enjoyment of that luxury, “A Taste of +Austrian Jails,” already related in these pages, I met with +a man whose whole life would seem to signify perversion; a +“dirty, villanous-looking fellow, with but one eye, and +very little light in that.” A first glance at this +fellow would call up the reflection, “Here is the result of +bad <!-- page 117--><a name="page117"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 117</span>education, and bad example, induced +perhaps by natural misfortunes, but the inevitable growth of +filth and wretchedness in a large city.”</p> +<p>With thin, straggling wisps of hair thrown, as it were, on his +head, a dull glimmer only in his one eye, and his whole features +of a crafty, selfish character—such he was; clad in a long, +threadbare, snuff-coloured great-coat, reaching almost to his +heels, and which served to hide the trowsers, the frayed ends of +which explained their condition; on his bare feet he wore a pair +of trodden-down slippers, with upper leathers gaping in front +with open mouths; a despicable rascal to look at, and yet this +was a brother of one of the magistrates of Vienna.</p> +<p>It was soon evident to me that this individual was held in +great respect by the rest of the prisoners; such an influence has +education,—for he was an educated man,—even in such a +place as a common jail.</p> +<p>I was soon informed of the peculiar talent which gave him a +prominent position. He was an inexhaustible teller of +stories; and, added my informant, “he can drink as much +beer as any three men in Vienna.”</p> +<p>This was saying a great deal.</p> +<p>On the second night of my incarceration in Punishment Room No. +1, I had an opportunity of judging of his powers; for, on our +retiring to our boards and rugs, which, according to prison +regulations, we were bound to do at the ringing of the eight +o’clock bell, I heard his peculiar voice announce from the +other side of the room, where he lay, propped up against the wall +by the especial indulgence of his comrades, that he was about to +tell a story. I could not sleep, but lay upon the hard +planks listening, as he recounted with a wonderful power of +language, and no mean amount of elocutionary dignity, some +principal incidents in the life of Napoleon. His companions +lay entranced; they did not sleep, for I could hear their +whispers, and, now and then, their uneasy shiftings on the +relentless wood. And so he went on, and I fell off to sleep +before he had come to a conclusion.</p> +<p>This was repeated each night of my confinement, for which he +received his due payment in beer from his fellow prisoners.</p> +<p>He professed to have a great affection for me; would take my +arm, and walk with me up and down the ward, telling me of his +acquirements, little scraps of his history, and invariably making +a request for a little beer.</p> +<p><!-- page 118--><a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>On one occasion it was suggested by the +“Vater” that he should tell us his own story.</p> +<p>“My story!” chuckled the unashamed rascal. +“Why, all Vienna knows my story. I am the brother of +Rathherr Lech, of the Imperial-royal-city-police-bureau of +Vienna. My brother is a great man; I am a vagabond. +<i>He</i> deserves it, and <i>I</i> deserve it; but he is my +brother for all that, and I put him in mind of it now and +then.</p> +<p>“My brother, by his zeal and talent, has acquired great +learning, and raised himself to a position of honour and +independence. And why have I not done the same? +Because I am lazy, have got weak eyes, and am fond of beer. +I do not care for your wine; good Liesinger beer is the drink for +me.</p> +<p>“My brother wished me to attain a lofty position in the +world. I am the younger. He paid teachers to instruct +me, and I learned a great deal; but it was dry work, and I sought +change, after days of study, in beer-cellars, among a few choice +boosers. And my eyes were weak, and close study made them +worse; and many a day I stole from my lessons on the plea of +failing sight. My brother, who is a good fellow, only that +he does not sufficiently consider my weakness, employed +physicians and oculists out of number; and among them I lost the +sight of one eye. It was of no use; I did not like the +labour of learning, and I made my weak eyes an excuse for doing +less than I could have done.</p> +<p>“At last I gave it up altogether, and my brother got me +into the ‘Institute for the Blind.’ <i>That</i> +would not do for me at all; I was not blind enough for +<i>that</i>. So, one day, when the door was open, and the +weather fine, I strolled home again to my brother. This +vexed him greatly; but he got over it, and then he placed me in +the ‘Imperial Bounty.’ A stylish place, I can +tell you, where few but nobles were allowed.</p> +<p>“But how could I, a lusty young fellow, be happy among +that moping, musty, crampt-up lot of old respectables? Not +I! so, as I could not easily get out in the day-time, I ran away +one night, and went back to my old quarters. At first my +brother would not see me; but that passed over, for he could not +let me starve. He then obtained for me a post in the +‘Refuge for the Aged;’ about the dullest place in all +Vienna. I was too young to be one of the members, so they +gave me a birth, where I did nothing. But what was the use +of that? I could not live among that company of <!-- page +119--><a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +119</span>mumbling, bible-backed old people; and if I could, it +was all the same, for they kicked me out at the end of a month +for impropriety.</p> +<p>“It was lucky for me that I tumbled into a legacy about +this time, of eighty gulden münz. I enjoyed myself +while it lasted, and never troubled my brother with my +presence.</p> +<p>“It did not last long; for, what with drinking beer, and +wearing fine clothes, and taking a dashing lodging on the Glacis, +I found my eighty guldens gone, just as I was in a position to +enjoy them most. But I was never very proud; so, seeing +that there was nothing to be done, but to go without beer, or to +humble myself to my brother, the rath, I chose the latter course +as the most reasonable, and made my peace with him at once.</p> +<p>“And what do you suppose he did for me? He said I +had disgraced myself and him at all the other places, so he could +do nothing but send me to the ‘Asylum for the +Indigent.’ But I did not stay there long. There +was no beer there; nothing but thin soup and rind-fleish (fresh +boiled beef) all the year round. And a pretty lot of +ill-bred, miserable ignoramuses they were—the +indigent! Not a spark of life or jollity in the place.</p> +<p>“One day I coolly walked out of the +‘Asylum,’ made off to a house I well knew, and ran up +a credit account in my brother’s name of good eight guldens +for beer and tobacco. A glorious day! for I forgot all +about the ‘asylum,’ and the ‘indigent,’ +and every mortal pain and trouble in this inconvenient world.</p> +<p>“I was awakened from a deep dream by a heavy hand on my +shoulder, and a loud voice in my ear.</p> +<p>“‘Holloa! friend Lech.’</p> +<p>“‘What’s the matter?’ inquired I, +gaping.</p> +<p>“‘Get up, and I’ll tell you.’</p> +<p>“‘Who are you?’</p> +<p>“‘You’ll know that soon enough; I am a +police officer.’</p> +<p>“‘And where am I, in God’s name?’</p> +<p>“‘Why, lying on your back, on the open +Glacis.’</p> +<p>“That was pleasant, was it not? So they took me to +the police-bureau, in the first case, for lying out in the open +air; and when they found that I had used my brother’s name +to incur a debt, without his permission, they gave me two months +for fraudulent intentions.</p> +<p><!-- page 120--><a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>“‘Why did you not stay at the +“Bounty?”’ expostulated my friend, the +police-assistant, as we were talking the matter over.</p> +<p>“‘Because it was too aristocratic and +uncomfortable,’ answered I.</p> +<p>“‘Perhaps the Rathherr, your brother, will be able +to get you into the “Refuge,”’ said he, in a +consoling way.</p> +<p>“‘God bless you! they have kicked me out of there +long ago.’</p> +<p>“‘Then I know of nothing but the +“Indigent” left for you.’</p> +<p>“‘My worthy friend,’ said I, ‘that is +the very last place I came from.’</p> +<p>“But I was determined to be revenged. When my time +was expired, I sallied forth with my mind fully made up as to +what I was to do. I knew the hour when my brother, in +pursuance of his duties, usually entered the magistrate’s +office, and, attired as I was—look at me! just as I am +now—in this old coat, the souvenir of the +‘Indigent,’ and these free-and-easy slippers, I +waited at the great entrance of the Magistracy, to pay my +respects to my brother, the Rath.</p> +<p>“I saw him coming; and, as soon as he reached the foot +of the flight of stone steps, I marched forward, gave him a mock +salute, and exclaimed, in a loud voice,</p> +<p>“‘Good morning, brother!’</p> +<p>“‘What is the meaning of this?’ demanded +he.</p> +<p>“‘Look here, brother!’ said I, ‘look +at this coat, and these shoes.’</p> +<p>“‘Remove this fellow!’ exclaimed he to the +police, who were standing at his heels.</p> +<p>“I knew what would be the result, but had determined to +have the play out. So I drew off my slipper, and, thrusting +my hand right through the hole at the toe, I made a bit of play +with my fingers, and shouted in his ear:</p> +<p>“‘Look at this, brother. Are you not ashamed +to see me? Look here! Look at this kripple-gespiel +(puppet show)! Look!’</p> +<p>“Of course I was laid hold of; and here I am for another +two months, for insulting a city functionary.”</p> +<p>This story was received with a glee only equalled by the gusto +with which it was related. The last expression, +“kripple-gespiel,” was peculiarly his own.</p> +<p>Before leaving Vienna, about a month after my release, I had +<!-- page 121--><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>determined to see the Brühl, a wild, wooded, and +mountainous district, at a short distance from the city. We +had spent a delightful day among its thick pine woods, and on its +towering heights, and in the evening made our way to the small +town of Mödling, where we intended to take the railway to +Vienna. But there was a grand fête in the pleasure +grounds close to the town, accompanied by a magnificent display +of fireworks. This whiled away the time, and it was already +dark, as we at length bent our steps towards the railway +station.</p> +<p>Suddenly a voice that I knew too well, struck upon my ear.</p> +<p>“Pity the poor blind!” it exclaimed.</p> +<p>I turned, and behold! there was my one-eyed jail acquaintance, +planted against a brick wall, a stout staff, at least six feet +long, in his hand, and his apparently sightless eyes turned up to +the sky.</p> +<p>“Pity the poor blind!”</p> +<p>In the greatest fear lest, even in his present blind +condition, he might recognise, and claim me as an acquaintance, I +hurried from the spot with all the speed of which I was capable, +and, thank Heaven, never set eyes upon him again.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">a walk through a +mountain</span>.</p> +<p>I lately took a walk through the substance of a mountain, +entering at the top, and coming out at the bottom, after a two or +three mile journey underground. Perhaps the story of this +trip is worth narrating. The mountain was part of an +extensive property belonging to the Emperor of Austria, in his +character of salt merchant, and contained the famous salt mine of +Hallein.</p> +<p>The whole salt district of Upper Austria, called the +Salzkammergut, forms part of a range of rocks that extends from +Halle in the Tyrol, passes through Reichenthal in Bavaria, and +continues by way of Hallein in Salzburg, to end at Ausse in +Styria. The Austrian part of the range is now included in +what is called the <!-- page 122--><a name="page122"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 122</span>district of Salzburg, and that +district abounds, as might be expected, in salt springs, hot and +cold, which form in fact the baths of Gastein, Ischl, and some +other places. The names of Salzburg (Saltborough), the +capital, and of the Salzack (Saltbrook), on the left bank of +which that pleasant city stands, indicate clearly enough the +character of the surrounding country. Hallein is a small +town eight miles to the south-east of Salzburg, and it was to the +mine of Hallein, as before said, that I paid my visit.</p> +<p>On the way thither, we, a party of three foot-travellers, +passed through much delightful rock and water scenery. From +Linz, the capital of Upper Austria, we got through Wells and +Laimbach to the river Traun, and trudged afoot beside its winding +waters till we reached the point of its junction with the +Traunsee, or Lake of Traun. At Gmunden, we stopped to look +over the Imperial Salt Warehouses. The Emperor of Austria, +as most people know, is the only dealer in salt and tobacco with +whom his subjects are allowed to trade. His salt +warehouses, therefore, must needs be extensive. They are +situated at Gmunden to the left of the landing-place, from which +a little steamer plies across the lake; and they are so built as +to afford every facility for the unloading of boats that bring +salt barrels from the mine by the highway of the Traun. The +warehouses consisted simply of a large number of sheds piled with +the salt in barrels, a few offices, and a low but spacious hall, +filled, in a confused way, with dusty models. There were +models of river-boats and salt moulds, mining tools, and tram +ways, hydraulic models of all kinds, miniature furnaces, wooden +troughs, and seething pans. We looked through these until +the bell from the adjacent pier warned us, at five o’clock +in the evening, to go on board the steamer that was quite ready +to puff and splash its way across the beautiful green lake. +We went under the shadow of the black and lofty Traunstien, and +among pine-covered rocks, of which the reflections were mingled +in the water with a ruddy glow, that streamed across a low shore +from some fires towards which we were steering.</p> +<p>The glow proceeded from the fires of the Imperial Saltern, +erected at Ebensee. We paid a short visit to the works, +which have been erected at great cost; and display all the most +recent improvements in the art of getting the best marketable +salt from saline water. We found that the water, heavily +impregnated, is conducted <!-- page 123--><a +name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 123</span>from the +distant mines by wooden troughs into the drying pan. The +pan is a large shallow vessel of metal, supported by small piles +of brick, and a low brick wall about three feet high, extending +round two-thirds of its circumference; leaving one-third, as the +mouth of the furnace, open to the air. Among the brick +columns, and within the wall, the fire flashed and curled under +the seething pan. Ascending next into the house over the +great pan, and looking down upon the surface and its contents +through sliding doors upon the floors, we saw the white salt +crusting like a coat of snow over the boiling water, and being +raked, as it is formed, by workmen stationed at each of the trap +doors. As the water evaporated, the salt was stirred and +turned from rake to rake; and finally, when quite dry, raked into +the neighbourhood of a long-handled spade, with which one workman +was shovelling among the dried salt, and filling a long row of +wooden moulds, placed ready to his hand. These moulds are +sugar-loaf shaped, and perforated at the bottom like a sugar +mould, in order that any remaining moisture may drain out of +them. The moulds will be placed finally in a heated room +before the salt will be considered dry enough for storeage as a +manufactured article.</p> +<p>The brine that pours with an equable flow into the seething +pan at Ebensee, is brought by wooden troughs from the salt mine +at Hallein, a distance of thirty miles in a direct line. It +comes by way of mountains and along a portion of the valley of +the Traun, through which we continued our journey the same +evening from Ebensee, until the darkness compelled us to rest for +the night at a small inn on a hill side. The next day we +went through Ischl and Wolfgang, and spent three hours of +afternoon in climbing up the Scharfberg, which is more than a +thousand feet higher than Snowdon, to see the sunset and the +sunrise. There was sleeping accommodation on the top: so +there is on the top of Snowdon. On the Scharfberg we had a +hay-litter in a wooden shed, and ate goat’s cheese and +bread and butter. We saw neither sunset nor sunrise, but +had a night of wind and rain, and came down in the morning +through white mist within a rugged gully ploughed up by the rain, +to get a wholesome breakfast at St. Gilgen on the lake. +More I need not say about the journey than that, on the fifth day +after leaving Ebensee, having rested a little in the very +beautiful city of Salzburg, we marched into the town of Hallein, +at the foot of the Dürrnberg, the famous salt mountain, +called Tumal by old chroniclers, <!-- page 124--><a +name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 124</span>and known +for a salt mountain seven hundred and thirty years ago.</p> +<p>After a night’s rest in the town, we were astir by five +o’clock in the morning, and went forward on our visit to +the mines. In the case of the Dürrnberg salt mine, as +I have already said, the miner enters at the top and comes out at +the bottom. Our first business, therefore, was to walk up +the mountain, the approach to which is by a long slope of about +four English miles.</p> +<p>We met few miners by the way, and noticed in them few +peculiarities of manners or costume. The national dress +about these regions is a sort of cross between the Swiss Alpine +costume and a common peasant dress of the lowlands. We saw +indications of the sugar-loafed hat; jackets were worn almost by +all, with knee-breeches and coloured leggings. The clothing +was always neat and sound, and the clothed bodies looked +reasonably healthy, except that they had all remarkably pale +faces. The miners did not seem bodily to suffer from their +occupation.</p> +<p>As we approached the summit of the Dürrnberg, the dry +brownish limestone showed its bare front to the morning +sun. We entered the offices, partly contained in the rock, +and applied for admission into the dominion of the gnomes. +Our arrival was quite in the nick of time, for we had not to be +kept waiting, as we happened to complete the party of twelve, +without which the guides do not start. It was a Tower of +London business; and, as at the Tower, the demand upon our purses +was not very heavy. One gulden-schein—about +tenpence—is the regulated fee. Our full titles having +been duly put down in the register, each of us was furnished with +a miner’s costume, and, so habited, off we set.</p> +<p>We started from a point that is called the +Obersteinberghauptstollen; our guides only having candles, one in +advance, the other in the rear.</p> +<p>We were sensible of a pleasant coldness in the air when we had +gone a little way into the sloping tunnel. The tunnel was +lofty, wide, and dry. Having walked downwards on a gentle +decline for a distance of nearly three thousand feet through the +half gloom and among the echoes, we arrived at the mouth of the +first shaft, named Freudenberg. The method of descent is +called the “Rolle.” It is both simple and +efficacious. Down the steep slope of the shaft, and at an +angle, in this case, of forty-one and a half degrees, runs a +smooth railway consisting of two pieces of timber, each of about +the <!-- page 125--><a name="page125"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 125</span>thickness of a scaffold pole; they +are twelve inches apart, and run together down the shaft like two +sides of a thick ladder without the intervening rounds. +Following the directions and example of the foremost guide, we +sat astride, one behind the other, on this wooden tramway, and +slid very comfortably to the bottom. The shaft itself was +only of the width necessary to allow room for our passage. +In this way we descended to the next chamber in the mountain, at +a depth of a hundred and forty feet (perpendicular) from the top +of the long slide.</p> +<p>We then stood in a low-roofed chamber, small enough to be +lighted throughout by the dusky glare of our two candles. +The walls and roof sparkled with brown and purple colours, +showing the unworked stratum of rock-salt. We stood then at +the head of the Untersteinberghauptstulm, and after a glance back +at the narrow slit in the solid limestone through which we had +just descended, we pursued our way along a narrow gallery of +irregular level for a further distance of six hundred and sixty +feet. A second shaft there opened us a passage into the +deeper regions of the mine. With a boyish pleasure we all +seated ourselves again upon a “Rolle”—this time +upon the Johann-Jacob-berg-rolle, which is laid at an angle of +forty-five and a half degrees—and away we slipped to the +next level, which is at the perpendicular depth of another couple +of hundred feet.</p> +<p>We alighted in another chamber where our candles made the same +half gloom, with their ruddy glare into the darkness, and where +there was the same sombre glittering upon the walls and +ceiling. We pursued our track along a devious cutting, +haunted by confused and giant shadows, suddenly passing black +cavernous sideways that startled us as we came upon them, and I +began to expect mummies, for I thought myself for one minute +within an old Egyptian catacomb. After traversing a further +distance of two thousand seven hundred feet we halted at the top +of the third slide, the Königsrolle. That shot us +fifty-four feet deeper into the heart of the mountain. We +had become quite expert at our exercise, and had left off +considering, amid all these descents and traverses, what might be +our real position in the bowels of the earth. Perhaps we +might get down to Aladdin’s garden and find trees loaded +with emerald and ruby fruits. It was quite possible, for +there was something very cabalistic, very strong of enchantment +in the word Konhauserankehrschachtricht, the name given to the +portion of the <!-- page 126--><a name="page126"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 126</span>mine which we were then +descending. Konhauser-return-shaft is, I think, however, +about the meaning of that compound word.</p> +<p>So far we had felt nothing like real cold, although I had been +promised a wintry atmosphere. Possibly with a miner’s +dress over my ordinary clothing, and with plenty of exercise, +there was enough to counteract the effects of the chill +air. But our eyes began to ache at the uncertain light, and +we all straggled irregularly along the smooth cut shaft level for +another sixty feet, and so reached the Konhauser-rolle, the +fourth slide we had encountered in our progress.</p> +<p>That cheered us up a little, as it shot us down another one +hundred and eight feet perpendicular depth to the +Soolererzeugungswerk-Konhauser—surely a place nearer than +ever to the magic regions of Abracadabra. If not +Aladdin’s garden, something wonderful ought surely by this +time to have been reached. I was alive to any sight or +sound, and was excited by the earnest whispering of my fellow +adventurers, and the careful directions as to our progress given +by the guides and light-bearers.</p> +<p>With eager rapidity we flitted among the black shadows of the +cavern, till we reached a winding flight of giant steps. We +mounted them with desperate excitement, and at the summit halted, +for we felt that there was space before our faces, and had been +told that those stairs led to a mid mountain lake, nine hundred +and sixty feet below the mountain’s top; two hundred and +forty feet above its base. Presently, through the darkness, +we perceived at an apparently interminable distance a few dots of +light, that shed no lustre, and could help us in no way to pierce +the pitchy gloom of the great cavern. The lights were not +interminably distant, for they were upon the other shore, and +this gnome lake is but a mere drop of water in the mountain mass, +its length being three hundred and thirty, and its breadth one +hundred and sixty feet.</p> +<p>Our guides lighted more candles, and we began to see their +rays reflected from the water; we could hear too the dull +splashing of the boat, which we could not see, as old Charon +slowly ferried to our shore. More lights were used; they +flashed and flickered from the opposite ferry station, and we +began to have an indistinct sense of a spangled dome, and of an +undulating surface of thick, black water, through which the +coming boat loomed darkly. More candles were lighted on +both sides of the Konhauser lake, a very Styx, defying all the +illuminating force of candles; dead and dark in its <!-- page +127--><a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +127</span>dim cave, even the limits of which all our lights did +not serve to define. The boat reached the place of +embarcation, and we, wandering ghosts, half walked and were half +carried into its broad clumsy hulk, and took each his allotted +seat in ghostly silence. There was something really +terrible in it all; in the slow funereal pace at which we floated +across the subterranean lake; in the dead quiet among us, only +interrupted by the slow plunge of the oar into the sickly +waters. In spite of all the lights that had been kindled we +were still in a thick vapour of darkness, and could form but a +dreamy notion of the beauty and the grandeur of the crystal dome +within which we men from the upper earth were hidden from our +fellows. The lights were flared aloft as we crept +sluggishly across the lake, and now and then were flashed back +from a hanging stalactite, but that was all. The misty +darkness about us brought to the fancy at the same time fearful +images, and none of us were sorry when we reached the other shore +in safety. There a rich glow of light awaited us, and there +we were told a famous tale about the last Arch-ducal visit to +these salt mines, where some thousands of lighted tapers +glittered and flashed about him, and exhibited the vaulted roof +and spangled lake in all their beauty. As we were not +Archdukes, we had our Hades lighted only by a pound of short +sixteens.</p> +<p>We left the lake behind us, and then, traversing a further +distance of seventy feet along the Wehrschachtricht, arrived at +the mouth of the Konhauser Stiege. Another rapid descent of +forty-five feet at an angle of fifty degrees, and we reached +Rupertschachtricht, a long cavern of the extent of five hundred +and sixty feet, through which we toiled with a growing sense of +weariness. We had now come to the top of the last and +longest “slide” in the whole Dürrnberg. It +is called the Wolfdietrichberg-rolle, and is four hundred and +sixty-eight feet long, carrying us two hundred and forty feet +lower down into the mountain. We went down this +“slide” with the alacrity of school-boys, one after +another keeping the pot boiling, and all regulating our movements +with great circumspection, for we knew that we had far to go and +we could never see more than a few yards before us.</p> +<p>Having gained the ground beneath in safety, our attention was +drawn to a fresh water well or spring, sunk in this spot at great +cost by order of the Archduke, and blessed among miners. +Amid all the stone and salt and brine, a gush of pure fresh water +at our feet was very welcome to us all. The well was sunk, +however, to get <!-- page 128--><a name="page128"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 128</span>water that was necessary for the +mining operations. We did not see any of those operations +underground, for they are not exhibited; the show-trip +underground is only among the ventilating shafts and +galleries. Through the dark openings by which we had +passed, we should have found our way (had we been permitted) to +the miners. I have seen them working in the Tyrol, and +their labours are extremely simple. Some of the rock-salt +is quarried in transparent crystals, which undergo only the +process of crushing before they are sent into the market as an +article of commerce. Very little of this grain salt is seen +in England, but on the continent it may be found in some of the +first hotels, and on the table of most families. It is +cheaper than the loaf salt, and is known in Germany under the +title of <i>salzkorn</i>, and in France, as <i>selle de +cuisine</i>. In order to obtain a finer grained and better +salt, it is necessary that the original salt-crystals should be +dissolved, and for this purpose parallel galleries are run into +the rock, and there is dug in each of them a dyke or +cistern. These dykes are then flushed with water, which is +allowed to remain in them undisturbed for the space of from five +to twelve months, according to the richness of the soil; and, +being then thoroughly saturated with the salt that it has taken +up, the brine is drawn off through wooden pipes from Hallein over +hill and dale into the evaporating pans.</p> +<p>We had traversed the last level, and had reached what is +generally called the end of the salt-mine; but we were still a +long way distant from the pure air and the sunshine. We had +travelled through seven galleries of an aggregate length of +nearly two miles; we had floated across an earthy piece of water; +had followed one another down six slides, and had penetrated to +the depth of twelve hundred feet into the substance of the +mountain limestone, gypsum, and marl. Having done all this, +there we were, in the very heart of the Dürrnberg, left by +our guides, and intrusted to the care of two lank lads with +haggard faces. We stood together in a spacious cavern, +poorly lighted by our candles; there was a line of tram-rail +running through the middle of it, and we soon saw the carriage +that was to take us out of the mountain emerging from a dark nook +in the distance. It was a truck with seats upon it, +economically arranged after the fashion of an Irish jaunting +car. The two lads were to be our horses, and our way lay +through a black hollow in one side of the cavern, into which the +tram-rail ran.</p> +<p>We took our seats, instructed to sit perfectly still, and to +restrain <!-- page 129--><a name="page129"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 129</span>our legs and arms from any +straggling. There was no room to spare in the shaft we were +about to traverse. Our car was run on to the tram-line, and +the two lads, with a sickly smile, and a broad hint at their +expected gratuity, began to pull, and promised us a rapid +journey. In another minute we were whirring down an incline +with a rush and a rattle, through the subterranean passage +tunnelled into the solid limestone which runs to the outer edge +of the Dürrnberg. The length of this tunnel is +considerably more than an English mile.</p> +<p>The reverberation and the want of light were nothing, but we +were disagreeably sensible of a cloud of fine stone dust, and +knew well that we should come out not only stone deaf, but as +white as millers. Clinging to our seats with a cowardly +instinct, down we went through a hurricane of sound and +dust. At length we were sensible of a diminution in our +speed, and the confusion of noises so far ceased, that we could +hear the panting of our biped cattle. Then, straight before +us, shining in the centre of the pitchy darkness, there was a +bright blue star suddenly apparent. One of the poor lads in +the whisper of exhaustion, and between his broken pantings for +breath, told us that they always know when they have got half way +by the blue star, for that is the daylight shining in.</p> +<p>A little necessary rest, and we were off again, the blue star +before us growing gradually paler, and expanding and still +growing whiter, till with an uncontrollable dash, and a +concussion, we are thrown within a few feet of the broad +incomparable daylight. With how much contempt of candles +did I look up at the noonday sun! The two lads, streaming +with perspiration, who had dragged us down the long incline, were +made happy by the payment we all gladly offered for their +services. Then, as we passed out of the mouth of the shaft, +by a rude chamber cut out of the rock, we were induced to pause +and purchase from a family of miners who reside there a little +box of salt crystals, as a memento of our visit. Truly we +must have been among the gnomes, for when I had reached the inn I +spread the brilliant crystals I had brought home with me on my +bedroom window sill, and there they sparkled in the sun and +twinkled rainbows, changing and shifting their bright colours as +though there were a living imp at work within. But when I +got up next morning and looked for my crystals, in the place +where each had stood, I found only a little slop of brine. +That fact may, I have <!-- page 130--><a name="page130"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 130</span>no doubt, be accounted for by the +philosophers; but I prefer to think that it was something +wondrous strange, and that I fared marvellously like people of +whom I had read in German tales, how they received gifts from the +good people who live in the bowels of the earth, and what became +of them. I have had my experiences, and I do not choose to +be sure whether those tales are altogether founded upon +fancy.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">cause and +effect</span>.</p> +<p>One September evening we rode into Carlsruhe. We made +our entry in a crazy hackney cab behind a lazy horse that had +been dragging us for a long time with cheerless industry between +a double file of trees, along a road without a bend in it; a +long, lanky, Quaker road, heavily drab-coated with dust; a +tight-rope of a road that comes from Manheim, and is hooked on to +the capital of Baden. Out of that <i>allée</i> we +were dragged into the square-cut capital itself, which had +evidently been planned by the genius of a ruler—not a +prince, but the wooden measure. The horse stopped at the +City of Pfortzheim, and as his decision on the subject of our +halting-place appeared to be irrevocable, we got out.</p> +<p>At the capital of a grand dukedom, except Weimar, it is better +to sleep (it is the only thing to be done there) and pass on; but +it so happened that on that particular evening Carlsruhe was in a +ferment: there was something brewing. I heard talk of a +procession and of certain names, particularly the names +Kugelblitz and Thalermacher. Never having heard those names +before, and caring therefore nothing in the world about them, I +tumbled into bed. To my delight, when I got up in the +morning, I found the little town turned upside down. +Landlord, boots, and chambermaid, overwhelmed me with +exclamations, surmises, and incoherent summaries of the +night’s news. There had been an outbreak. +<i>Lieber Herr</i>, a revolution! One entire house razed to +the ground. “Hep! hep!” that is the old cry, +“Down with the Jews!” All their bones would +<!-- page 131--><a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>be made powder of. Tremendous funeral of +Kugelblitz. Students on their way in a body from +Heidelberg. Thalermacher the rich Jew, soldiers, the entire +court, Meinheer, all in despair; a regular sack. Not only +Kugelblitz, but Demboffsky, the Russian officer, killed. O +hep! hep! a lamentable tragedy. “For they were two +such fine-looking young men,” mourned the chambermaid, +“especially Demboffsky.” “You had +better,” said the landlord, “stay in Carlsruhe till +to-morrow.”</p> +<p>Roused by the incoherent tidings, I hurried to the centre of +the tumult. The house of the firm of Thalermacher and +Company was situated in the High Street; and though, certainly, +it had a doleful look, it was there situated still: it held its +ground. Not a brick was displaced; but—gaunt and +windowless, disfigured with great blotches of ink and dirt, its +little shop rent from the wall and split up into faggots—it +looked like a house out of which all life had been knocked; but +there was the carcase. In the street before the house, +there were by that time a few splinters of furniture remaining; +the rest had been broken up or hidden by kind and cunning +neighbours. The shop had been cobbled together with the +broken shutters; and half-a-dozen soldiers, quite at their ease, +were lounging pleasantly about the broken door.</p> +<p>The outbreak, I was told by the bystanders, was quite +unpremeditated. A few stragglers had halted before the +house at about eight o’clock on the preceding evening, and +had been discussing there the dreadful tale connected with its +owner. One gossip, in a sudden burst of anger, hurled a +bottle of ink—then by chance in his hand—at the +Jew’s house. The idea was taken up with such good +will that a hard rain of stones, bottles, and other missiles was +soon pelting against Thalermacher’s walls. Where all +are unanimous it is not difficult to come to a conclusion. +An hour’s labour, lightened by yells and shouts of +“Hep, hep!” was enough; and, the zeal of the people +burning like a fire, soon left of the house nothing but its +shell.</p> +<p>The authorities in Germany, usually so watchful and so prompt +to interfere, were either taken completely off their guard, or +tacitly permitted the rude work of vengeance; for, although there +was a guard-post in the immediate vicinity, the whole efforts of +the military were confined to conducting Thalermacher and his +family into a place of safety. The protection Thalermacher +received was of a peculiar kind. Under the plea of insuring +him against public <!-- page 132--><a name="page132"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 132</span>attack, he was conducted under +escort, to the fortress of Rastadt, and there held a close +prisoner, until the whole affair could be investigated.</p> +<p>The funeral procession of Lieutenant Kugelblitz was not a +thing to be missed. I went, therefore, to the other end of +the city, whence the procession was to start. The scene was +impressive. Not merely his brothers-in-arms of the +artillery, but the general-staff—all the officers of +distinction in the Baden army, whose duties allowed them to be +present—and even the Russian companions of his antagonist +Demboffsky, acted as mourners.</p> +<p>As the procession came before the house of Thalermacher, I +observed that a strong guard had been posted there for its +protection. The funeral passed by without any demonstration +whatever. Presently we turned up a narrow passage, leading +from the high street towards the cemetery, and our progress +became tediously slow as we moved with the close mass of +people. At the burial-place every mound and stone was +occupied. Flowers were trampled under foot, shrubs broken +or uprooted, and the grass all stamped into the mould. The +whole crowd listened to the impressive tone—only a few +could hear the words—of the funeral harangue, and to the +solemn hymn which followed. The service closed with the +military honour of musketry fired over the soldier’s +grave. That over, I was sucked back by the retreating tide +of citizens into the main street of Carlsruhe.</p> +<p>The crowd instantly dispersed; and, as I wandered through the +side streets, I soon saw that the authorities had come to +life. My attention was first called to an official +announcement freshly posted, which warned all persons from +assembling in the public street in knots or clusters, even of +three or four, on pain of being instantly dispersed by the +military. Another placard fulminated an injunction to +parents, masters, and burghers to restrain and confine all +persons under their charge—such as workmen, servants, and +children—within their respective houses; because, for any +offence committed by them against the public peace, such masters +or parents would be held responsible. I began to fancy +myself in a state of siege. Wandering again into the main +street I was met by a strong division of dusty dragoons, in full +equipment of war, which came sweeping and clashing along from +adjacent parts of the country, evidently under urgent +orders. Another and another followed. Troops of +infantry tramped hastily along the side streets. The very +<!-- page 133--><a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +133</span>few civilians I met in the streets seemed to be +hurrying to shelter from a coming storm. Was there really +any social tempest in the wind? Or were all these +precautions but a locking of the stable door after the steed was +stolen?</p> +<p>Having roamed by chance into a sequestered beer-house, I was +surprised to find myself in the midst of a large party of +students; probably from Heidelberg. They were well-grown +youths, with silken blond beards; and in their behaviour, +half-swaggerers, half-gentlemen. These were, perhaps, the +enemies of order against whom the tremendous military +preparations had been made.</p> +<p>As the day wore on it became evident that the authorities were +ready to brave the most overwhelming revolution that ever burst +forth. Troop after troop of cavalry galloped in; every +soldier, indeed, of whatever arm stationed within an available +distance of Carlsruhe, was brought within its walls. By +eight o’clock in the evening the military preparations were +completed: a picket of infantry was stationed at every street +corner; and, from that hour to the break of day, parties of +dragoons swept the main thoroughfares, clashing and clattering +over the paved road with a din that kept me awake all +night. Intercourse between one street and another, except +on urgent business, was interdicted; and the humblest pedestrian +found abroad without an urgent errand was conducted home with +drums beating, colours flying, and all the honours of war. +The display of force answered its purpose in preventing a second +attack of Christians on Jews. The pale ghost of +insubordination was laid and dared not walk +abroad—especially at night.</p> +<p>I must say I felt a little relieved when it was ascertained +for certain that the city was safe. I am no friend to +despotism nor to political thraldom of any kind; but really it is +impossible not to feel for the solemn aristocracies of German +Grand-Duchies (who, if they be despots, are extremely amiable) +when, poor people, they are in the least put out of their way: +they are so dreadfully fussy, so fearfully piteous, so +distraught, so inconsolable. I was glad therefore that, the +revolution being put down, they could retire in peace to their +coffee, their picquet, and their metaphysics. Doubtless +Thalermacher (some Hebrew millionaire, perhaps) and Kugelblitz (a +fire-eater, for certain) had headed a frightful band of +anarchists; who, but for the indomitable energy of the +authorities, would peradventure have changed the destiny of the +entire Duchy, of Germany, of Europe itself! Nothing but so +illimitable an <!-- page 134--><a name="page134"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 134</span>apprehension could have been the +cause of such a siege-like effect. What else could have +occasioned the entire blockade of Carlsruhe?</p> +<p>I had, however, exaggerated the cause as well as the danger; +and I will now relate the real circumstances which had led to all +these awful results; for the facts were afterwards made known in +the Carlsruhe and Baden-Baden public journals of the day.</p> +<p>Early in the month of August, eighteen hundred and +forty-three, the inhabitants of Baden-Baden gave a ball in honour +of the Grand-Princess Helene of Baden, and the Duchess of +Nassau. Among the names on the subscription-list stood that +of Herr Heller von Thalermacher. Some unexplained animosity +existed between this gentleman and Lieutenant Kugelblitz, who was +also one of the subscribers.</p> +<p>Baron Donner von Kugelblitz, chief lieutenant of the Baden +artillery, although only in his twenty-ninth year, had already +spent fourteen years in military service, and was highly esteemed +for his soldierly qualities and straightforward bearing. He +was tall, remarkably handsome, of an impetuous temperament, and +his natural strength had been well developed by constant practice +in manly and athletic exercises. Herr Heller von +Thalermacher, or rather the firm of which he was the prominent +member, was distinguished for qualities far different, but +equally deserving of goodwill. The banking-house of +Thalermacher was one of the most responsible in South Germany; +and, at great expense and sacrifice, had introduced into the +grand, but by no means affluent, duchy of Baden several branches +of industry, which had enriched the ducal treasury, and furnished +employment for thousands of industrious subjects. It had +revived the almost extinguished mining interest; had introduced +extensive spinning machinery; and had established a factory for +the manufacture of beetroot sugar.</p> +<p>Lieutenant Kugelblitz, to whose opinion deference was due, +expressed himself in such offensive terms with respect to Herr +von Thalermacher, in relation to the ball, that the gentlemen who +had prepared the subscription-list at once erased the +objectionable name: Herr von Thalermacher at once demanded +satisfaction from his accuser, but this Lieutenant Kugelblitz +refused, on the ground that the banker was not respectable enough +for powder and shot. Hereupon two courts of honour were +formed, one composed of gentlemen civilians in Baden-Baden, and +the other of the officers in Carlsruhe. Both appeared to +have been called together at the wish <!-- page 135--><a +name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 135</span>of +Lieutenant Kugelblitz, to inquire into and pronounce upon the +point at issue. The civilians came to no decision. +The military court of honour put the result of its deliberations +in the <i>Carlsruhe Zeitung</i>, as a public advertisement, +couched in these terms: “The Herr von Kugelblitz may not +fight with the Herr von Thalermacher.” Thus posted as +a scamp, Thalermacher advertised back his own defence; and, by +public circulars and bills, declared the accusation of Kugelblitz +to be false and malicious, and his behaviour dishonourable and +cowardly. At the same time, a Russian officer of good +family,—Demboffsky—who had acted throughout as +negotiator and friend on the part of Thalermacher, and who felt +himself deeply compromised by the imputations put forth against +his principal, declared publicly that the military court which +had condemned the Herr von Thalermacher, after hearing only his +accuser, was a one-sided and absurd tribunal, and that it was not +competent to give any decision.</p> +<p>The result of this declaration was a challenge from Lieutenant +Kugelblitz. Demboffsky said that he was quite willing to +give his challenger the satisfaction he demanded, on condition +that he should first arrange his quarrel with Herr Thalermacher, +as became a gentleman.</p> +<p>On the night of the first of September (at the beginning of +our English shooting season), the Russian being on a visit to his +friend Thalermacher, in his apartments, assured him in the most +positive terms that he would keep promise, and would make no +hostile arrangement with Lieutenant Kugelblitz. Prince +Trubetzkoi and other friends then present completely coincided in +this mode of action. At half-past eleven at night, +Demboffsky quitted his friend, and hastened homewards. Be +had advanced only a few steps on the road, when suddenly two +figures strode up to him, and stayed his progress. He at +once recognised Kugelblitz, and a Spaniard named Manillo, who had +lived for many years in Germany.</p> +<p>“Will you fight with me?” shouted Kugelblitz in a +passion.</p> +<p>The Russian, although taken completely by surprise, replied +that he would do as he had already said. He would fight +with Senor Manillo at once if it were thought desirable; but he +would engage in no hostilities with Kugelblitz, until the quarrel +with Thalermacher was adjusted. Great was the wrath of +Kugelblitz. He clenched his fist, shook it in the face of +Demboffsky, and demanded furiously that he should give his word +of honour to fight him in the <!-- page 136--><a +name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +136</span>morning. The Russian, who expected bodily +violence, then said that since the insult had been pushed so far, +there remained no other course open to him, than to accept the +challenge; which he accordingly did, pledging himself to meet +Kugelblitz on the morrow. He then hastened back to his +friend Thalermacher, and related the occurrence to him.</p> +<p>On the following day the duel took place. It happened +that Lieutenant Kugelblitz was under orders to mark out the +artillery practice-ground at Hardwald, near Rastadt, and as he +could not leave his post, the meeting took place in its +neighbourhood. The two officers stood forward in deadly +opposition with a measured distance of ten paces only.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the first fire was without result; but, at the +second fire, Kugelblitz was struck in the breast; yet he still +held his weapon undischarged. He pressed his left hand on +the wound as he pulled the trigger with his right. The +pistol missed fire. Another cap was placed upon the nipple, +but it also failed. The second of Demboffsky then handed +another weapon to the dying man; who, with quiet resolution, +still closing his wound with his fingers, drew for the third time +upon his opponent, and with such effect, that, uttering a wild +cry, and the words “<i>Je suis mort</i>!” “I am +dead!” the Russian leapt up into the air, and then rolled +upon the ground a corpse. Kugelblitz, exhausted by the +efforts he had made to die like a gentleman, sank into the arms +of his second, Manillo, and was carried insensible to +Carlsruhe. He died at noon on the second day after the +duel.</p> +<p>Thereupon the discerning and indignant public, a little +biassed—as it too often has been in Germany—against +the Jews in general, gutted the house of Herr von +Thalermacher.</p> +<p>The state also fell in with the common notion; and, under the +plea of sheltering an injured man, lodged him in prison for +eleven days. Seals were also placed upon his papers and +apartments. The State then set about ascertaining privately +in how far the victim of mob law had been guilty of the mischief +which by general acclamation was imputed to him.</p> +<p>After a hunt through the banker’s desk, and an +inspection of his drawers, the decision of the court tribunal of +Rastadt was delivered. It was ordered that the Herr Heller +von Thalermacher be forthwith liberated from the fortress of +Rastadt, free and untainted. Further: that the seals be +removed from his apartments and papers, <!-- page 137--><a +name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 137</span>seeing that +nothing among them had been found which could cast the faintest +shadow upon his reputation.</p> +<p>We had all been yelling at the wrong man. Kugelblitz +was, after all, the author of the tragedy.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">greece and her +deliverer</span>.</p> +<p>Four happy tramps in company, we passed the frontiers of +Austria and Bavaria, near Berchtesgaden, in the hazy shimmering +of an autumn morning sun. We came from the lakes and +mountain regions of Upper Austria, and already yearned towards +Munich, the Bavarian capital, as our next station and brief +resting place. The sun seemed to have melted into the air, +for we walked through it rather than beneath it, and sought in +vain for coolness and shelter among the plum trees which lined +the public road. Halting as the night closed in at the +frontier town, Reichenhall, with its quaint old streets, and its +distant fortress, casting a lengthened protective shadow over the +place, we felt the indescribable luxury of the +foot-traveller’s rest; as readily enjoyed at such times on +a litter of straw in the common room of an alehouse as between +the cumbersome comforts of two German feather beds. Both +the ale and the feather beds were at our service at Reichenhall, +and we did not neglect them.</p> +<p>In the morning our road lay by sombre, romantic Traunstein, +and what was better still, by the glistening waters of the lake +of Chiem, whose broad surface was so unruffled, that the wide +expanse seemed to lie in a hollow, and a delicious coolness +whispered rather than blew across its tranquil waves. The +day was waning as we made a half circuit round the edge of the +lake, and the deepening night only stayed our steps and drove us +to rest, after a march of twenty-four miles, in the village of +Seebruck. At Rosenheim we were challenged by the Bavarian +sentinel, who held post on a stone bridge leading to the town, +but it was rather in kindliness than suspicion; and with some +useful information as to our route, and a cheering valediction, +<!-- page 138--><a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +138</span>we pursued our way. The villages of Weisham and +Aibling lay before us, and must be passed before night; and it +was in the immediate neighbourhood of these places, although I +confess to some indistinctness as to the precise locality, that +we came upon an object which at once surprised and delighted +us.</p> +<p>By the side of the road, on a slight elevation, stood a +beautiful stone monument, of the purest Grecian architecture, and +of the most delicate workmanship. It was fresh and sharp +from the chisel of the sculptor, and looked so stately and +graceful in the midst of the level landscape and simple village +scenery that we halted spontaneously to examine it. +“Can it be the memorial of some battle?” exclaimed +one. “Or a devotional shrine?” “Or +a tomb?” Not any one of these. Its purpose was +as singular as the sentiment it expressed would have been +beautiful and touching, but for its presumption. Graven +deeply into the stone were words in the German language to this +effect: “This monument is raised in remembrance of the +parting of Louis, King of Bavaria, with his second son Otho, who +here left his bereaved father to become the Deliverer of +Greece.” As we stood and read these words the vision +of the fond father and proud king, taking his last farewell of +the son whom he fondly believed destined to fulfil so great a +mission, floated before us, to be replaced the next instant by +the no less eloquent picture of the court of the then King Otho, +a German colony in the midst of the Greek people, living upon its +blood, and wantoning with its treasure; and of this same Greek +people, driven at length into fury by the rapacity of the hated +Tudesca, who filled every position of authority and grasped at +every office of emolument, and hunting them like a routed army +out of the land. Still there was a depth of paternal +affection in the words upon the monument, which impressed us with +respect, as the miniature temple, with its delicate columns and +classical proportions, had inspired us with admiration.</p> +<p>We pursued our way along the dull road, now halting a moment +to cool our fevered feet, now restlessly shifting our knapsacks +in the vain hope of lightening the burden, when, being in the +immediate neighbourhood of the village of Aibling, we came upon a +second monument equally classical in form, though of less +pretensions than the first. A twice-told tale, uttered this +time in a woman’s accents; for the block of stone repeated +the same story in almost identical words.</p> +<p>“Here the Queen of Bavaria parted with her beloved +second son <!-- page 139--><a name="page139"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 139</span>Otho, only comforted in her +affliction by the knowledge that he has left her to become the +Deliverer of Greece.”</p> +<p>The hopes of the King and Queen of Bavaria, thus unluckily +commemorated by these monuments, were no less at that time the +hopes and the belief of all Europe—with what little of +prophetic spirit full twenty years of experience has shown. +Greece, swarming with Bavarian adventurers, till goaded to the +utmost she drove them from her bosom; Greece, bankrupt, +apathetic, and ungrateful; a Greek port blockaded by the ships of +her first defender, and her vessels held in pawn for the payment +of a miserable debt; Greece, piratical, dissembling, and +rebellious, aiding in her weak and greedy ambition the worst +enemy of Europe—so runs the story—but Greek +deliverance not yet. Her joint occupation by French and +English forces, and the possible imposition of a provisional +government, may indeed lead to the unprophesied +consummation—her deliverance—from King Otho.</p> +<p>No doubt, those monuments of mingled weakness and arrogance +still whiten in the air; as for us, we continued our march +towards the Bavarian capital, slept at a pilgrimage church that +night, and on the following morning made a bargain with the +driver of a country cart who had overtaken us, and seated on the +rough timber which formed his load, jolted into Munich.</p> +<p>King Louis then reigned in Bavaria, but being so indifferent a +prophet could not foresee his own speedy abdication.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">the french +workman</span>.</p> +<p>The original stuff out of which a French workman is made, is a +street boy of fourteen years old, or, perhaps, twelve. That +young <i>gamin de Paris</i> can sing as many love ditties and +drinking songs as there are hairs upon his head, before he knows +how much is nine times seven. He prefers always the +agreeable to the useful: he knows how to dance all the +quadrilles: he knows how to make grimaces of ten thousand sorts +one after the other without stopping, <!-- page 140--><a +name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 140</span>and at the +rate of twenty in a minute. Of his other attainments, I say +little. It is possible that he may have been to one of the +elementary schools set up by the Government; or, it may be that +he knows not how to read; although, by Article 10 of a law passed +in eighteen hundred and thirty-three, it was determined that no +chief town of a department, or chief place of a commune, +containing more than six thousand inhabitants, should be without +at least one elementary school for public instruction.</p> +<p>Such as the boy may be, he is made an apprentice. He +needs no act, or, as you say in England, indenture. His +contract has to be attested at the Prefecture of Police, Bureau +of Passports, Section of Livrets. Formerly, it was the +custom in France for the apprentice to be both fed and lodged by +his master; but, as the patron seldom received money with him, he +was mainly fed on cuffs. Apprenticeship in Paris, which is +France, begins at ages differing according to the nature of the +trade. If strength be wanted, the youth is apprenticed at +eighteen, but otherwise, perhaps, at fourteen. There are in +Paris nineteen thousand apprentices dispersed among two hundred +and seventy branches of trade.</p> +<p>Of all the apprentices whose number has been just named, only +one in five is bound by a written agreement with his +master. The rest have a verbal understanding. The +youths commonly are restless; and, since they are apt to change +their minds, the business of the master is not so much to teach +them as to obtain value for himself as soon as he can out of +their labour. It is the apprentice who is sent out to take +orders in the town, and to play the part of messenger. In +consequence of the looseness of the tie, it often happens that a +thoughtless parent, when his son is able to earn wages, tells the +youth that his master is sucking him and fattening upon his +unpaid labour; that he might earn money for the house at +home. The youth is glad to earn, and throws up his +apprenticeship for independent work. It soon occurs to him +that his parents are sucking him, and that his earnings ought to +be for himself, and not for them. He then throws up his +home dependence, as he had thrown up dependence on his master, +takes a lodging, falls into careless company, and works on, a +half-skilled labourer, receiving all his life a less income than +he could have assured to himself by a few years of early +perseverance.</p> +<p>When I was apprentice, eight years ago, I found that to be a +good workman, it was needful to design and model. +“Come with me,” <!-- page 141--><a +name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 141</span>said my +comrade Gredinot, “I will show you a good +school.” It was a winter evening; our work was over; +and, with leave of the patron, we left our shop in the Rue Saint +Martin, and went by Saint Saviour to the Rue Montorgueil. +We bought as we went about twelve pounds of modelling clay. +At the upper end of the street, my friend Gredinot turned up a +dark passage. I followed him. A single lamp glimmered +in the court to which it led us. We went up a few steps to +the schoolroom. “Here we are,” said Gredinot, +in opening the door. We entered, carrying our caps. +There was a low room lighted by flaring oil lamps; but in it were +busts and statues of such beauty that it seemed to me to be the +most delightful chamber in the world. Boys and youths and a +few men, all in blouses like ourselves, laboured there. We +threw our clay upon a public heap in a wooden trough near the +door. There was only that mud to pay, and there were our +own tools to take. Everything else was free. Gredinot +introduced me to the master, and I learnt to model from that +night. There are other schools—the school of Arts and +Trades in the Rue St. Martin, and the Special and Gratuitous +School of Design in the Rue du Tourraine, in connection, as I +think, with the School of Fine Arts. I might number the +museums and the libraries, and I may make mention also of the +prizes of the Academy of Industry and of the Society for the +Encouragement of National Industry.</p> +<p>The apprentice when out of his time goes to the prefecture of +police. There he must obtain a livret, which must have on +the face of it the seal of the prefecture, the full name of the +admitted workman, his age, his place of birth, and a description +of his person, his trade, and the name of the master who employs +him. The French workman is taboo, until he is registered by +the police and can produce his livret. The book costs him +twopence halfpenny. Its first entry is a record of the +completion of his apprenticeship. Afterwards every fresh +engagement must be set down in it, with the dates of its +beginning and its end, each stamped by the prefecture. The +employer of a workman holds his livret as a pledge. When he +receives money in advance, the sum is written in his book, and it +is a debt there chargeable as a deduction of not more than one +fifth upon all future employment, until it is paid. The +workman when travelling must have his livret <i>viséd</i>; +for, without that, says the law, “he is a vagabond, and can +be arrested and punished as such.”</p> +<p><!-- page 142--><a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +142</span>The workman registered and livreted, how does he live, +work, and sleep? He is not a great traveller; for, unless +forced into exile, the utmost notion of travel that a French +workman has, is the removal—if he be a +provincial—from his native province to Paris. We pass +over the workman’s chance of falling victim to the +conscription, if he has no friends rich enough to buy for him a +substitute, or if he cannot subscribe for the same object to a +Conscription Mutual Assurance Company. When Louis Blanc had +his own way in France the workmen did but ten hours’ labour +in the day. Now, however, as before, twelve or thirteen +hours are regarded as a fair day’s work. I and +Friponnet, who are diamond jewellers, work ten hours only. +My friend Cornichon, who is a goldsmith, works as long as a +painter or a smith. Sunday labour used to be very general +in France, but extended seldom beyond the half day; which was +paid for at a higher rate. In Paris seven in eight of us +used to earn money on the Sunday morning. That necessity +could not be pleaded for the act, is proved by the fact, that +often we did no work on Monday, but on that day spent the +Sunday’s earnings. As for wages, calculated on an +average of several years, they are about as follows:—The +average pay for a day’s labour is three shillings and +twopence. The lowest day’s pay known is five pence, +and the highest thirty shillings. About thirty thousand of +us receive half-a-crown a day; five or six times as many (the +majority) receive some sum between half-a-crown and four and +twopence. About ten thousand receive higher wages. +The best wages are earned by men whose work is connected with +print, paper, and engraving. The workers in jewels and gold +are the next best provided for; next to them workers in metal and +in fancy ware. Workers on spun and woven fabrics get low +wages; the lowest is earned, as in London, by slop-workers and +all workers with the needle. The average receipts of Paris +needlewomen have not, however, fallen below fourteenpence a day; +those of them who work with fashionable dressmakers earn about +one and eightpence. While speaking of the ill-paid class of +women, I must mention that the most sentimental of our +occupations earns the least bread. Those who make crowns of +<i>immortelles</i> to hang upon the tombs, only earn about +sevenpence-halfpenny a day. That trade is, in very truth, +funereal. To come back to ourselves, it should be said that +our wages, as a whole, have risen rather than declined during +<!-- page 143--><a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +143</span>the last quarter of a century. It is a curious +fact, however, that the pay for job-work has decreased very +decidedly.</p> +<p>And how do we live? it is asked. Well enough. All +of us eat two meals a day; but what we eat depends upon our +money. We three, who draw up this account, work in one +room. We begin fasting, and maintain our fast until eleven +o’clock. Then we send the apprentice out to fetch our +breakfasts. When he comes back with his stores, he disposes +them neatly on a centre table in little groups. I generally +have a pennyworth of ham, which certainly is tough, but very full +of flavour; bread to the same value; a half share with Friponnet +in two-pennyworth of wine, and a half-pennyworth of fried +potatoes; thus spending in all threepence-halfpenny. +Cornichon spends the same sum generally in another way. He +has a pennyworth of cold boiled (unsalted) beef, a pennyworth of +bread, a halfpennyworth of cheese and a pennyworth of currant +jam. Friponnet is more extravagant. A common +breakfast bill of fare with him is two penny sausages, +twopennyworth of bread, a pennyworth of wine, a halfpenny +<i>paquet de couenne</i> (which is a little parcel of crisply +fried strips of bacon rind), and a baked pear. All this is +sumptuous; for we are of the aristocracy of workmen. The +labourers of Paris do not live so well. They go to the +<i>gargottes</i>, where they get threepence halfpennyworth of +bouilli—soup, beef and vegetable—which includes the +title to a liberal supply of bread. Reeking, dingy dens are +those <i>gargottes</i>, where all the poorer classes of Parisian +workmen save the beef out of their breakfast bouilli, and carry +it away to eat later in the day at the wine-shop; where it will +make a dinner with more bread and a pennyworth of wine. Of +bread they eat a great deal; and, reckoning that at fourpence and +the wine at a penny, we find eightpence to be the daily cost of +living to the great body of Parisian workmen.</p> +<p>We aristos among workpeople dine famously. My own +practice is to dine in the street du Petit Carré upon +dinners for ninepence; or, by taking dinner-tickets for fourteen +days in advance, I get one dinner a fortnight given me +gratuitously. I dine upon soup, a choice of three plates of +meat, about half-a-pint of wine, a dessert and bread at +discretion. Our dinner hour is four o’clock, and we +are not likely to eat anything more before bedtime; although one +of us may win a cup of coffee or a dram of brandy at billiards or +dominoes in the evening. Cornichon and Friponnet dine in +the street Chabannais; have soup at a penny a portion, small +plates of <!-- page 144--><a name="page144"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 144</span>meat at twopence each, dessert at a +penny, and halfpenny slips of bread. Each of us when he has +dined rolls up a cigarette, and lounges perhaps round the Palais +Royal for half an hour.</p> +<p>As for our lodging the poorest of us live by tens in one room, +and sleep by fours and fives upon one mattress; paying from +twopence to tenpence a night. The ordinary cost of such +lodging as the workman in Paris occupies is, for a whole room for +one person, nine or ten shillings a month; for more than one, six +or seven shillings each; and for half a bed, four +shillings. Cornichon lives in room number thirty-six on the +third floor of a furnished lodging house in the street du Petit +Lion. You must ring for the porter if you would go in to +Cornichon; and the porter must, by a jerk at a string, unlatch +the street door if Cornichon wishes to come out to you. In +a little court at the back are two flights of dirty stairs of red +tile edged with wood. They lead to distinct portions of the +house. Cornichon’s room is paved with red tiles, +polished now and then with beeswax. It is furnished with +the bed and a few inches of bedside carpet, forming a small +island on the floor, with two chairs, a commode with a black +marble top, a washing-basin and a water-bottle. Cornichon +has also a cupboard there in which he stores his wood for winter, +paying twenty-pence per hundred pounds for logs; and as the room +contains no grate, he rents a German stove from his landlord, +paying four-and-two-pence for his use of it during the +season.</p> +<p>Friponnet rents two unfurnished rooms up four pair of stairs, +at the back of a house in the street d’Argenteuil. He +pays ten shillings a month. They are furnished in mahogany +and black marble bought of a broker, and I think not paid for +yet. Fidette visits him there. She is a gold and +silver polisher, his <i>bonne amie</i>. She has her own +lodging; but she and Friponnet divide their earnings. They +belong to one another: although no priest has blessed their +voluntary contract. It is so, I am pained to say, with very +many of us.</p> +<p>I have a half-bed in a little street, with a man who is a good +fellow, considering he is a square-head—a German. The +red tiles of my staircase are very clean, and slippery with +beeswax. My landlord rents a portion of the third floor of +the house, and under-lets it fearfully. One apartment has +been penned off into four, and mine is the fourth section at the +end. To reach me one must pass through the first pen, which +is occupied by Monsieur and Madame. <!-- page 145--><a +name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>There they +work, eat, and sleep; as for Madame, she never leaves it. +Monsieur only goes away to wait upon the <i>griffe</i>, his +master, when he wants more work; his <i>griffe</i> is a slop +tailor. Monsieur and Madame sleep in a recess, which looks +like a sarcophagus. A little Italian tailor also sleeps in +the same pen; but whereabouts I know not—his bed is a +mystery. The next pen is occupied by two carpenters, seldom +at home. When they come home, all of us know it; for they +are extremely musical. In the third pen live three more +tailors, through whose territory I must pass to my own +cabinet. But how snug that is! Although only eight +feet by ten, it has two corner windows; and, if there is little +furniture and but a scanty bed, there is a looking-glass fit for +a baron, and some remains of violet-coloured hangings and long +muslin curtains; either white or brown, I am not sure. I +and the German pay for this apartment fifteen shillings +monthly.</p> +<p>There is a kind of lodgers worth especial mention. The +men working in the yards of masons, carpenters, and +others—masons especially—frequently come from the +provinces. They are not part of the fixed population; but +are men who have left their wives and families to come up to the +town and earn a sum of money. For this they work most +energetically; living in the most abstemious manner, in order +that they may not break into their hoard. They occupy +furnished lodgings, flocking very much together. Thus the +masons from the departments of la Creuse and la Haute Vienne +occupy houses let out in furnished rooms exclusively to +themselves, in the quarters of the Hotel de Ville, the Arsenal, +Saint Marcel, and in other parts of Paris. The rigid +parsimony of these men is disappointed terribly when any crisis +happens. They are forced to eat their savings, to turn +their clothing and their tools into food, and, by the revolution +of eighteen hundred and forty-eight, were reduced to such great +destitution, that in some of the houses occupied by them one +dress was all that remained to all the lodgers. They wore +it in turn, one going out in it to seek for work while all the +rest remained at home in bed. The poor fellows thanked the +want of exercise for helping them to want of appetite—the +only kind of want that poverty desires.</p> +<p>These men, however, working in the great yards, eating their +meals near them in an irregular and restless way, form clubs and +associations which lead not seldom to strikes—blunders +which we call placing ourselves <i>en Grève</i>. +They take the name <i>en Grève</i> from <!-- page 146--><a +name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span>the place +in which one class of builders’ workmen assemble when +waiting to be hired. Various places are chosen by sundry +workmen and workwomen for this practice of waiting to be +hired. Laundresses, for example, are to be found near the +church of our Lady of Lorette, where they endure, and too often +enjoy, coarse words from passers-by.</p> +<p>Except in the case of the masons and labourers from the +departments, it is to be regarded as no good sign when a workman +makes a residence of furnished lodgings. The orderly +workman marries, and acquires the property of furniture. +The mason from the departments lives cheaply, and saves, to go +home with money to his family, and acquire in his own village the +property of land. The workman bound to Paris, who dwells +only in furnished lodgings, and has bought no furniture, has +rarely saved, and has rarely made an honest marriage. In +most cases he is a lover of pleasure, frequents the theatre and +the wine shop. From wine he runs on to the stronger +stimulus of brandy; but these leave to him some gleams of his +national vivacity. The most degraded does not get so +lumpish as the English workman, whose brains have become sodden +in the public-houses by long trains of pots of beer. By far +the largest portion of the Paris workmen possess furniture: only +twenty-one in a hundred—and that includes, of course, the +mobile population, the masons, etc.—live in furnished +lodgings.</p> +<p>For clothing we spend, according to our means, from four to +fourteen pounds a year. Half of us have no coat in addition +to the blouse. Before the crisis of eighteen hundred and +forty-eight, one sixth of us had money in savings’ banks, +and one man in every two was a member of some benefit +society. The benefit societies were numerous, each +generally containing some two or three hundred members; but even +our singing clubs are now suppressed, and we must not meet even +to transact the business of a benefit society without giving +notice of our design to the police, and receiving into our party +at least two of its agents as lookers-on. The result has +been the decay of all such societies, and the extinction of most +of them. Where they remain, the average monthly +subscription is fifteen-pence, which insures the payment of +twenty-pence a day during sickness, with gratuitous advice and +medicine from the doctor. The funds of such societies are +lodged either in savings’ banks, or in the <i>Mont de +Pieté</i>; which, though properly a pawnbroking +establishment, has also its uses as a bank. The <!-- page +147--><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +147</span>imperial fist presses everywhere down upon us. It +has forced us out of sick clubs, because we sometimes talked in +them about the state of the nation: it would build us huge +barracks to live in, so that we may be had continually under +watch and ward; and it has lately thrust in upon us a president +of its own at the head of our <i>Conseil de +Prud’hommes</i>, the only tribunal we possess for the +adjustment of our internal trade disputes.</p> +<p>Of our pleasures on a Sunday afternoon the world has +heard. We devote that to our families, if we have any; +Monday, too often, to our friends. There are on Sundays our +feats of gymnastics at open-air balls beyond the barriers, and +our dancing saloons in the city; such as the Prado, the Bal +Montesquieu, and the Dogs’ Ball. There are our +pleasant country rambles, and our pleasant little dinners in the +fields. There are our games at poule, and dominoes, and +piquet; and our pipes with dexterously blackened bowls. +There are our theatres, the Funambule and the Porte St. +Martin. Gamblers among us play at bowls in the Elysian +fields, or they stay at home losing and winning more than they +can properly afford to risk at <i>écarté</i>.</p> +<p>Then there are our holidays. The best used to be +“the three days of July,” but they were lost in the +last scramble. Yet we still have no lack of holiday +amusement; our puppets to admire, and greasy poles to climb for +prizes by men who have been prudently required first to declare +and register their ambition at the Bureau of Police. +Government so gets something like a list of the men who aspire; +who wish to mount. It must be very useful. There are +our water tournaments at St. Cloud and at Boulogne-sur-Seine; +where they who have informed the police of their combative +propensities, may thrust at each other with long-padded poles +from boats which are being rowed forcibly into collision. +We are not much of water-birds, but when we do undertake boating, +we engage in the work like Algerine pirates. We must have a +red sash round the waist or not a man of us will pull a +stroke.</p> +<p>To go back to our homes and to our wives. When we do +marry, we prefer a wife who can support herself by her own +labour. If we have children, it is in our power to +apply—and very many of us do apply—to the Bureau of +Nurses; and, soon after an infant’s birth, it can be sent +down into the country at the monthly cost of about ten shillings +and two pounds of lump sugar. That prevents the child from +hindering our work or pleasure; and, as it is the interest of +<!-- page 148--><a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +148</span>the nurse to protect the child for which she receives +payment, why should we disturb our consciences with qualm or +fear?</p> +<p>In Paris there are few factories; some that have existed were +removed into the provinces for the sole purpose of avoiding the +dictation of the workmen in the town. The Parisian fancy +work employs a large number of people who can work at their own +homes. In this, and in the whole industry of Paris, the +division of labour is very great; but the fancy work offers a +good deal of scope for originality and taste, and the workman of +Paris is glad to furnish both. He will delight himself by +working night and day to execute a sudden order, to be equal to +some great occasion; but he cannot so well be depended upon when +the work falls again into its even, humdrum pace. On the +whole, however, they who receive good wages, and are +trusted—as the men working for jewellers are +trusted—become raised by the responsibility of their +position, shun the wine-shop, live contented with the pleasures +of their homes, dress with neatness, and would die rather than +betray the confidence reposed in them. With all his faults +and oddities, the workman of Paris is essentially a thoroughly +good fellow. The solitary work of tailors and of shoemakers +causes them of course to brood and think, and to turn out of +their body a great number of men who take a foremost place in all +political discussions. But the French workman always is a +loser by political disturbance. The crisis of eighteen +hundred and forty-eight—a workman’s +triumph—reduced the value of industry in Paris from sixty +to twenty-eight millions of pounds. Fifty-four men in every +hundred were at the same time thrown out of employ, or nearly two +hundred thousand people in all.</p> +<p>But there are some callings, indeed, wholly untouched by a +crisis. The manufacture of street gas goes on, for example, +without any change. There are others that are even +benefited by a revolution. After the last revolution, while +other trades were turning away men to whom there was no longer +work to give, the trades concerned in providing military +equipment were taking on fresh hands. To that class in +Paris, and to that only, there was an increase of business in +eighteen hundred and forty-eight to the extent of twenty-nine per +cent. The decrease of business among the printers, although +few books were printed, did not amount to more than twenty-seven +per cent., in consequence of the increased demand for +proclamations, handbills, and manifestoes.</p> +<p>Without any extra crisis, men working in all trades have +trouble <!-- page 149--><a name="page149"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 149</span>enough to get over the mere natural +checks upon industry, which come to most tradesmen twice a year +in the shape of the dead seasons. Every month is a dead +season to some trade; but the dead seasons which prevail over the +largest number of workmen in Paris are the two months, July and +August, in summer, and the two months, January and February, in +winter. The dead season of summer is the more decided of +the two. The periods of greatest activity, on the other +hand, are the two months, April and May, and next to those the +months, October and November. Printers are busiest in +winter, builders are busiest in summer—so there are +exceptions to the rule; but, except those who provide certain +requisites for eating and drinking which are in continual demand, +there are few workmen in Paris or elsewhere in France, who have +not every year quite enough slack time to perplex them. +They can ill afford the interference of any small crisis in the +shape of a strike, or large crisis in the shape of a national +tumult.</p> +<p>Finally, let me say that the French workman, take him all in +all, is certainly a clever fellow. He is fond of Saint +Monday, “solidarity,” and shows; but is quickwitted +at his work, and furiously energetic when there is any strong +call made upon his industry. In the most debased form he +has much more vigour and vivacity than the most debased of +English operatives. He may be more immoral; but he is less +brutish. If we are a little vain, and very fond of gaiety; +and if we are improvident, we are not idle; and, with all our +street fighting, we are not a discontented race. Except an +Arab, who can be so happy as we know how to make ourselves, upon +the smallest possible resources?</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">licensed to +juggle</span>.</p> +<p>Some years ago a short iron-built man used to balance a +scaffold pole upon his chin; to whizz a slop-basin round upon the +end of it; and to imitate fire-works with golden balls and +gleaming knives, in the public streets of London. I am +afraid his genius was <!-- page 150--><a name="page150"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 150</span>not rewarded in his own country; for +not long ago I saw him starring it in Paris. As I stood by +to watch his evolutions, in the Champs Elysées, I felt a +patriotic glow when they were rewarded with the enthusiastic +applause of a very wide and thick ring of French spectators.</p> +<p>There was one peculiarity in his performance which +distinguished him from French open-air artistes—he never +spoke. Possibly he was diffident of his French +accent. He simply uttered a grunt when he wished to call +attention to any extraordinary perfection in his performance; in +imitation, perhaps, of the “La!—la!” of the +prince of French acrobats, Auriol. Whatever he attempted he +did well; that is to say, in a solid, deliberate, thorough +manner. His style of chin-balancing, knife-catching, +ball-throwing, and ground and lofty tumbling, was not so agile or +flippant as that of his French competitors, but he never +failed. On the circulation of his hat, the French halfpence +were dropped in with great liberality.</p> +<p>As the fall of the curtain denotes the close of a play, so the +raising of the square of carpet signifies the end of a +juggler’s performance; and, when my old acquaintance had +rolled up his little bit of tapestry, and had pocketed his sous, +I accosted him—“You are,” I said, “an +Englishman?”</p> +<p>“That’s right!” he observed, familiarly.</p> +<p>“What say you to a glass of something, and a +chat?”</p> +<p>“Say?” he repeated, with a very broad grin, +“why, yes, to be sure!”</p> +<p>The tumbler, with his tools done up in a carpet-bag closed at +the mouth with a bit of rope, and your humble servant were +speedily seated in a neighbouring wine-shop.</p> +<p>“What do you prefer to drink?” I inquired.</p> +<p>“Cure-a-sore,” he modestly answered.</p> +<p>The epicure! Quality and not quantity was evidently his +taste; a sign of, at least, a sober fellow.</p> +<p>“You find yourself tolerably well off in +Paris?”</p> +<p>“I should think I did,” he answered, smacking his +lips, “for I wos a wagabon in London; but here I am an +artiste!”</p> +<p>“A distinction only in name, I suspect.”</p> +<p>“P’raps it is; but there’s a good deal of +difference, mind you. In England (I have been a’most +all over it) a feller in my line is a wagabon. He +don’t take no standing in society. He may be quiet, +never get into no trouble, and never give nobody else none; but +<!-- page 151--><a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +151</span>that don’t help him. ‘He gits his +livin’ in the streets,’ they say, and that’s +enough. Well, ’spose he does? he ’as to work +tremenjus hard for it.”</p> +<p>“His certainly cannot be an idle life.”</p> +<p>“It just ain’t, if they’d only let us alone; +but they won’t—them blessed Peelers I mean. How +would you like it?” he continued, appealing to me with as +hard a look in the face as if I had been his most implacable +enemy, “how would you like it, if you had looked up a jolly +good pitch, and a reg’lar good comp’ny was a looking +on—at the west end, in a slap up street, where there +ain’t no thoroughfare—and jist as you’re a +doin’ the basin, and the browns is a droppin’ into +the ’at, up comes a Peeler. Then it’s +‘Move on!’ You must go;” he stared harder +than ever, and thumped his hand on the table; “I say you +<i>must</i> go, and lose p’raps a pick up as +’u’d keep you for a week. How would you like +that?”</p> +<p>“I should expostulate.”</p> +<p>“Spostallate!—would you?” a slight curl of +the lip, expressive of contempt at my ignorance of the general +behaviour of policemen. “Ah! if you say +’bo!’ to a Peeler he pulls you, and what’s the +consequence? Why, a month at the Steel!”—which +hard name I understood to be given to the House of +Correction.</p> +<p>“But the police are not unreasonable,” I +suggested.</p> +<p>“Well, p’raps some of ’em +ain’t,” he remarked, “but you can’t pick +out your policemen, that’s where it is.”</p> +<p>“Do the police never interfere with you here?” I +asked.</p> +<p>“They used to it; and I’ve had to beg back my +traps more than once from the borough of the Police +Correctionell, as they call it; but then that was ’cause I +was hignorant of the law. When they see that I could git a +’onest living, an old cove in a cocked hat ses he to me, +ses he, ‘You’re a saltimbanc, you are. Wery +good. You go to the borough of police for public morals, +and the minister (not a parson, mind you, but the ’ed +hinspector), if he’s satisfied with your character +he’ll give you a ticket.”</p> +<p>“And did he?”</p> +<p>“Course he did; and I’m now one of the +reg’lar perfession. I aint to be hinterfered with; +leastways, without I’m donkey enough to go on the cross and +be took up. <i>That’s</i> the ticket,” he +exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out a bronze badge, +“I’m number thirty-five, I am.”</p> +<p>“And can you perform anywhere?”</p> +<p><!-- page 152--><a name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +152</span>“No; the police picked out thirteen good +places—‘pitches,’ we calls +’em—where we can play. Ther’s the +list—thirteen on ’em all of a row—beginning on +the Boulevards at the Place de la Colonne de Juilliet, and ending +in the Champs Elysées.” He unfolded a neatly +written document that plainly defined the limits of Paris within +which he, in common with his co-professors, was allowed to +display his abilities.</p> +<p>With a small gratuity for the new light thrown upon the +subject of street performances, I parted from my enterprising +countryman, wishing him every success.</p> +<p>I have sometimes wondered whether—considering that we +have all sorts of licensed people about us; people who are +licensed to cram us upon steam-boats; to crowd us into omnibuses; +to jolt us in ramshackle cabs; to supply us with bad brandy and +other adulterated drinks; licentiates for practising physic; +licentiates for carrying parcels; licentiates for taking money at +their own doors for the diversions of singing and dancing; +licentiates for killing game with gunpowder, which other people +have been licensed to make—whether, I say, it would not be +wise to license in England out-of-door as well as in-door +amusements.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">père +panpan</span>.</p> +<p>“Monsieur Panpan lives in the Place Valois,” said +my friend, newly arrived from London on a visit to Paris, +“and as I am under a promise to his brother Victor to +deliver a message on his behalf, I must keep my word even if I go +alone, and execute my mission in pantomime. Will you be my +interpreter?”</p> +<p>The Place Valois is a dreamy little square formed by tall +houses: graced by an elegant fountain in its centre; guarded by a +red-legged sentinel; and is chiefly remarkable in Parisian annals +as the scene of the assassination of the Duc de Berri. +There is a quiet, melancholy air about the place which accords +well with its <!-- page 153--><a name="page153"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 153</span>traditions; and even the little +children who make it their playground on account of the absence +of both vehicles and equestrians, pursue their sports in a +subdued, tranquil way, hanging about the fountain’s edge, +and dabbling in the water with their little fingers. +Monsieur Panpan’s residence was not difficult to +find. We entered by a handsome porte-cochère into a +paved court-yard, and, having duly accounted for our presence to +the watchful concierge who sat sedulously peering out of a green +sentry-box, commenced our ascent to the upper regions. +Seeing that Monsieur lived on the fourth floor, and that the +steps of the spacious staircase were of that shallow description +which disappoint the tread by falling short of its expectations, +it was no wonder that we were rather out of breath when we +reached the necessary elevation; and that we paused a moment to +collect our thoughts, and calm our respiration, before knocking +at the little backroom door, which we knew to be that of Monsieur +Panpan.</p> +<p>Madame Panpan received us most graciously, setting chairs for +us, and apologising for her husband, who, poor man, was sitting +up in his bed, with a wan countenance, and hollow glistening +eyes. We were in the close heavy air of a sick +chamber. The room was very small, and the bedstead occupied +a large portion of its space. It was lighted by one little +window only, and that looked down a sort of square shaft which +served as a ventilator to the house. A pale child, with +large wandering eyes, watched us intently from behind the end of +the little French bedstead, while the few toys he had been +playing with lay scattered upon the floor. The room was +very neat, although its furniture was poor and scanty; and by the +brown saucepan perched upon the top of the diminutive German +stove, which had strayed, as it were, from its chimney corner +into the middle of the room, we knew that the pot-au-feu was in +preparation. Madame, before whom was a small table covered +with the unfinished portions of a corset, was very +agreeable—rather coquettish, indeed, we should have said in +England. Her eyes were bright and cheerful, and her hair +drawn back from her forehead à la Chinoise. In a +graceful, but decided way, she apologised for continuing her +labours, which were evidently works of necessity rather than of +choice.</p> +<p>“And Victor, that good boy,” she exclaimed, when +we had further explained the object of our visit, “was +quite well! I am charmed! And he had found work, and +succeeding so well in his <!-- page 154--><a +name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>affairs? I am enchanted! It is so amiable +of him to send me this little cadeau!”</p> +<p>Monsieur Panpan, with his strange lustrous eyes, if not +enchanted, rubbed his thin bony hands together as he sat up in +the bed, and chuckled in an unearthly way at the good news. +Having executed our commission, we felt it would be intrusive to +prolong our stay, and therefore rose to depart, but received so +pressing an invitation to repeat the visit, that, on the part of +myself and friend, who was to leave Paris in a few days, I could +not refuse to comply with a wish so cordially expressed, and +evidently sincere. And thus commenced my acquaintance with +the Panpans.</p> +<p>I cannot trace the course of our acquaintance, or tell how, +from an occasional call, my visits became those of a bosom +friend; but certain it is, that soon each returning Sunday saw me +a guest at the table of Monsieur Panpan, where my couvert and +serviette became sacred to my use; and, after the meal, were +carefully cleaned and laid apart for the next occasion. +This, I afterwards learned, was a customary mark of consideration +towards an esteemed friend among the poorer class of +Parisians. I soon learned their history. Their +every-day existence was a simple, easily read story, and not the +less simple and touching because it is the every-day story of +thousands of poor French families. Madame was a stay-maker; +and the whole care and responsibility of providing for the wants +and comforts of a sick husband; for her little Victor, her eldest +born; and the monthly stipend of her infant Henri, out at nurse +some hundred leagues from Paris, hung upon the unaided exertions +of her single hands, and the scrupulous and wonderful economy of +her management.</p> +<p>One day I found Madame in tears. Panpan himself lay with +rigid features, and his wiry hands spread out upon the +counterpane. Madame was at first inconsolable and +inexplicable, but at length, amid sobs, half suppressed, related +the nature of their new misfortune. Would Monsieur believe +that those miserable nurse-people, insulting as they were, had +sent from the country to say, that unless the three months +nursing of little Henri, together with the six pounds of lump +sugar, which formed part of the original bargain, were +immediately paid, cette pauvre bête (Henri that was), would +be instantly dispatched to Paris, and proceedings taken for the +recovery of the debt? Ces miserables!</p> +<p>Here poor Madame Panpan could not contain herself, but gave +<!-- page 155--><a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +155</span>way to her affliction in a violent outburst of +tears. And yet the poor child, the cause of all this +sorrow, was almost as great stranger to his mother as he was to +me, who had never seen him in my life. With scarcely a +week’s existence to boast of, he had been swaddled up in +strange clothes; intrusted to strange hands; and hurried away +some hundred leagues from the capital, to scramble about the clay +floor of an unwholesome cottage, in company perhaps with some +half-dozen atomies like himself, as strange to each other as they +were to their own parents, to pass those famous mois de nourrice +which form so important and momentous a period in the lives of +most French people. Madame Panpan was however in no way +responsible for this state of things; the system was there, not +only recognised, but encouraged; become indeed a part of the +social habits of the people, and it was no wonder if her poverty +should have driven her to so popular and ready a means of meeting +a great difficulty. How she extricated herself from this +dilemma, it is not necessary to state; suffice it to say, that a +few weeks saw cette petite bête Henri, happily domiciled in +the Place Valois; and, if not overburdened with apparel, at least +released from the terrible debt of six and thirty francs, and six +pounds of lump-sugar.</p> +<p>It naturally happened, that on the pleasant Sunday afternoons, +when we had disposed of our small, but often sumptuous dinner; +perhaps a gigot de mouton with a clove of garlic in the knuckle; +a fricassée de lapins with onions, or a fricandeau, Panpan +himself would tell me part of his history; and in the course of +our salad; of our little dessert of fresh fruit, or currant +jelly; or perhaps, stimulated by the tiniest glass of brandy, +would grow warm in the recital of his early experiences, and the +unhappy chance which had brought him into his present +condition.</p> +<p>“Ah, Monsieur!” he said one day, “little +would you think, to see me cribbed up in this miserable bed, that +I had been a soldier, or that the happiest days of my life had +been passed in the woods of Fontainebleau, following the chase in +the retinue of King Charles the Tenth of France. I was a +wild young fellow in my boyhood; and, when at the age of eighteen +I drew for the conscription and found it was my fate to serve, I +believe I never was so happy in my life. I entered the +cavalry; and, in spite of the heavy duties and strict discipline, +it was a glorious time. It makes me mad, Monsieur, when I +think of the happy days I have spent on the road, in barracks, +and in snug country quarters, where there was cider or <!-- page +156--><a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>wine for the asking; to find myself in a solitary +corner of great, thoughtless Paris, sick and helpless. It +would be something to die out in the open fields like a worn-out +horse, or to be shot like a wounded one. But this is +terrible!—and I am but thirty-eight.”</p> +<p>We comforted him in the best way we could with sage axioms of +antique date, or more lively stories of passing events; but I saw +a solitary tear creeping down the cheek of Madame Panpan, even in +the midst of a quaint sally; and, under pretence of arranging his +pillow, she bent over his head and kissed him gently on the +forehead.</p> +<p>Père Panpan—I had come by degrees to call him +“Père,” although he was still young; for it +sounded natural and kindly—continued his narrative in his +rambling, gossiping way. He had been chosen, he said, to +serve in the Garde Royale, of whom fifteen thousand sabres were +stationed in and about the capital at this period; and in the +royal forest of Fontainebleau, in the enjoyment of a sort of +indolent activity, he passed his happiest days; now employed in +the chase, now in the palace immediately about the person of the +king, in a succession of active pleasures, or easy, varied +duties. Panpan was no republican. Indeed, I question +whether any very deep political principles governed his +sentiments; which naturally allied themselves with those things +that yielded the greatest amount of pleasure.</p> +<p>The misfortunes of Père Panpan dated from the +revolution of eighteen hundred and thirty. Then the +glittering pageantry in the palace of Fontainebleau vanished like +a dream. The wild clatter of military preparation; the +rattling of steel and the trampling of horses; and away swept +troop after troop, with sword-belt braced and carabine in hand, +to plunge into the mad uproar of the streets of Paris, risen, +stones and all, in revolution. The Garde Royale did their +duty in those three terrible days, and if their gallant charges +through the encumbered streets, or their patient endurance amid +the merciless showers of indescribable missiles, were all in +vain, it was because their foe was animated by an enthusiasm of +which they knew nothing, save in the endurance of its +effects. Panpan’s individual fate, amid all this +turmoil, was lamentable enough.</p> +<p>A few hours amid the dust; the sweltering heat; the yellings +of the excited populace; the roaring of cannon and the pattering +of musketry; saw the troop in which he served, broken and +scattered, and Panpan himself rolling in the dust, with a +thousand lights flashing in his eyes, and a brass button lodged +in his side!</p> +<p>“Those villains of Parisians!” he exclaimed, +“not content with <!-- page 157--><a +name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 157</span>showering +their whole garde meuble upon our heads, fired upon us a +diabolical collection of missiles, such as no mortal ever thought +of before:—bits of broken brass; little plates of tin and +iron rolled into sugar-loaves; crushed brace-buckles; crooked +nails and wads of metal wire;—anything, indeed, that in +their extremity they could lay their hands on, and ram into the +muzzle of a gun! These things inflicted fearful gashes, +and, in many cases, a mere flesh-wound turned out a +death-stroke. Few that got hurt in our own troop lived to +tell the tale.”</p> +<p>A few more days and the whole royal cavalcade was scattered +like chaff before the wind, and Charles the Tenth a fugitive on +his way to England; a few more days and the wily Louis Philippe +was taking the oath to a new constitution, and our friend, +Panpan, lay carefully packed, brass button and all, in the +Hôtel-Dieu. The brass button was difficult to find, +and when found the ugly fissure it had made grew gangrened, and +would not heal; and thus it happened that many a bed became +vacant, and got filled, and was vacant again, as their occupants +either walked out, or were borne out, of the hospital gates, +before Panpan was declared convalescent, and finally dismissed +from the Hôtel-Dieu as “cured.”</p> +<p>The proud trooper was, however, an altered man; his health and +spirits were gone; the whole corps of which he had so often +boasted was broken up and dispersed; his means of livelihood were +at an end, and, what was worse, he knew of no other in the +exercise of which he could gain his daily bread. There were +very many such helpless, tradeless men pacing the streets of +Paris, when the fever of the revolution was cooled down, and +ordinary business ways began to take their course. Nor was +it those alone who were uninstructed in any useful occupation, +but there were also the turbulent, dissatisfied spirits; builders +of barricades, and leaders of club-sections, whom the late +excitement, and their temporary elevation above their fellow +workmen, had left restless and ambitious, and whose awakened +energies, if not directed to some useful and congenial +employment, would infallibly lead to mischief.</p> +<p>Panpan chuckled over the fate which awaited some of these +ardent youths: “Ces gaillards là!” he said, +“had become too proud and troublesome to be left long in +the streets of Paris; they would have fomented another +revolution; so Louis Philippe, under pretence of rewarding his +brave ‘soldats laboureurs,’ whom he was ready to +shake by the hand in the public streets in the first flush of +success, <!-- page 158--><a name="page158"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 158</span>enrolled them in the army, and sent +them to the commanding officers with medals of honour round their +necks, and special recommendations to promotion in their +hands. They hoped to become Marshals of France in no +time. Pauvres diables! they were soon glad to hide their +decorations, and cease bragging about street-fighting and +barricades, for the regulars relished neither their swaggering +stories nor the notion of being set aside by such parvenus; and +they got so quizzed, snubbed, and tormented, that they were happy +at last to slide into their places as simple soldats, and trust +to the ordinary course for promotion.”</p> +<div class="gapshortline"> </div> +<p>As for Panpan, his street wanderings terminated in his finding +employment in a lace manufactory, and it soon became evident that +his natural talent here found a congenial occupation. He +came by degrees to be happy in his new position of a +workman. Then occurred the serious love passage of his +life—his meeting with Louise, now Madame Panpan. It +was the simplest matter in the world: Panpan, to whom life was +nothing without the Sunday quadrille at the barrière, +having resolved to figure on the next occasion in a pair of +bottes vernis, waited upon his bootmaker—every Parisian has +his bootmaker—to issue his mandates concerning their +length, shape, and general construction. He entered the +boutique of Mons. Cuire, when, lo! he beheld in the little back +parlour, the most delicate little foot that ever graced a shoe, +or tripped to measure on the grass. He would say nothing of +the owner of this miracle; of her face—which was full of +intelligence; of her figure—which was gentille toute +à fait—but for that dear, chaste, ravishing model of +a foot! so modestly posé upon the cushion. +Heaven!—and Panpan unconsciously heaved a long sigh, and +brought with it from the very bottom of his heart a vow to become +its possessor. There was no necessity for anything very +rash or very desperate in the case, as it happened, for the +evident admiration of Panpan had inspired Louise with an +impromptu interest in his favour, and he being besides gentil +garçon, their chance rencontre was but the commencement of +a friendship which ripened into love,—and so the old story +over again, with marriage at the end of it.</p> +<p>Well! said M. Panpan, time rolled on, and little Louis was +born. This might have been a blessing, but while family +cares and expenses were growing upon them, Panpan’s +strength and energies were withering away. He suffered +little pain, but what there was seemed <!-- page 159--><a +name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>to spring +from the old wound; and there were whole days when he lay a mere +wreck, without the power or will to move; and when his feeble +breath seemed passing away for ever. Happily, these +relapses occurred only at intervals, but by slow degrees they +became more frequent and more overwhelming. Madame +Panpan’s skill and untiring perseverance grew to be, as +other resources failed, the main, and for many, many months, the +whole support of the family. Then came a time when the +winter had passed away, and the spring was already in its full, +and still Panpan lay helpless in bed with shrunken limbs and +hollow, pallid cheeks,—and then little Henri was born.</p> +<p>Père Panpan having arrived at this crisis in his +history, drew a long breath, and stretched himself back in his +bed. I knew the rest. It was soon after the event +last named that I made his acquaintance, and the remainder of his +simple story, therefore, devolves upon me.</p> +<p>The debility of the once dashing soldier increased daily, and +as it could be traced to no definite cause, he gradually became a +physiological enigma; and thence naturally a pet of the medical +profession. Not that he was a profitable patient, for the +necessities of the family were too great to allow of so expensive +a luxury as a doctor’s bill; but urged, partly by +commiseration, and partly by professional curiosity, both ardent +students and methodical practitioners would crowd round his +simple bed, probing him with instruments, poking him with their +fingers, and punching him with their fists; each with a new +theory to propound and establish; and the more they were baffled +and contradicted in their preconceived notions, the more +obstinate they became in their enforcement. Panpan’s +own thoughts upon the subject always reverted to the brass +button, although he found few to listen to or encourage him in +his idea. His medical patrons were a constant source of +suffering to him, but he bore with them patiently; sometimes +reviving from his prostration as if inspired, then lapsing as +suddenly into his old state of semi-pain and total +feebleness. As a last hope, he was removed from his fourth +floor in the Place Valois, to become an inmate of the +Bicêtre, and a domiciled subject of contention and +experiment to its medical staff.</p> +<p>The Bicêtre is a large, melancholy-looking building, +half hospital half madhouse, situated a few leagues from +Paris. I took a distaste to it on my very first +visit. It always struck me as a sort of <!-- page 160--><a +name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 160</span>menagerie, +I suppose from the circumstance of there having been pointed out +to me, immediately on my entrance, a railed and fenced portion of +the building, where the fiercer sort of inhabitants were +imprisoned. Moreover, I met with such strange looks and +grimaces; such bewildering side-glances or moping stares, as I +traversed the open court-yards, with their open corridors, or the +long arched passages of the interior, that the whole of the +inmates came before me as creatures in human shape indeed, but as +possessed by the cunning or the ferocity of the mere +animal. Yet it was a public hospital, and in the +performance of its duties there was an infinite deal of kindly +attention, consummate skill, and unwearying labour. Its +associations were certainly unhappy, and had, I am sure, a +depressing effect upon at least the physically disordered +patients. It may be that as the Bicêtre is a sort of +forlorn hope of hospitals, where the more desperate or +inexplicable cases only are admitted, it naturally acquires a +sombre and ominous character; but in no establishment of a +similar kind (and I have seen many) did I meet with such +depressing influences.</p> +<p>Panpan was at first in high spirits at the change. He +was to be restored to health in a brief period, and he really did +in the first few weeks make rapid progress towards +convalescence. Already a sort of gymnasium had been +arranged over his bed, so that he might, by simple muscular +exercises, regain his lost strength; and more than once I have +guided his tottering steps along the arched corridors, as, clad +in the gray uniform of the hospital, and supported by a stick, he +took a brief mid-day promenade.</p> +<p>We made him cheering Sunday visits, Madame Panpan, Louis, the +little Henri, and I, and infringed many a rule of the hospital in +regard to his regimen. There was a charcutier living close +to the outer walks, and when nothing else could be had, we +purchased some of his curiously prepared delicacies, and smuggled +them in under various guises. To him they were delicious +morsels amid the uniform soup and bouillon of the hospital, and I +dare say did him neither good nor harm.</p> +<p>Poor Madame Panpan! apart from the unceasing exertions which +her difficult position demanded of her; apart from the harassing +days, the sleepless nights, and pecuniary deficiencies which +somehow never were made up; apart from the shadow of death which +hovered ever near her; and the unvarying labours which pulled at +her fingers, and strained at her eyes, so that her efforts seemed +still <!-- page 161--><a name="page161"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 161</span>devoted to one ever unfinished +corset,—there arose another trouble where it was least +expected; and alas! I was the unconscious cause of a new +embarrassment. I was accused of being her lover. +Numberless accusations rose up against us. Had I not played +at pat-ball with Madame in the Bois de Boulogne? Yes, +pardi! while Panpan lay stretched upon the grass a laughing +spectator of the game; and which was brought to an untimely +conclusion by my breaking my head against the branch of a +tree. But had I not accompanied Madame alone to the Champs +Elysées to witness the jeu-de-feu on the last fête +of July? My good woman, did I not carry Louis pick-a-back +the whole way? and was not the crowd so dense and fearful, that +our progress to the Champs Elysées was barred at its very +mouth by the fierce tornado of the multitude, and the trampling +to death of three unhappy mortals, whose shrieks and groans still +echo in my ear? and was it not at the risk of life or limb that I +fought my way along the Rue de la Madeleine, with little Louis +clinging round my neck, and Madame hanging on to my +coat-tail? Amid the swaying and eddying of the crowd, the +mounted Garde Municipale came dashing into the thickest of the +press, to snatch little children, and even women, from impending +death, and bear them to a place of safety. And if we did +take a bottle of Strassburger beer on the Boulevards, when at +length we found a freer place to breathe in, faint and reeling as +we were, pray where was the harm, and who would not have done as +much? Ah, Madame! if you had seen, as I did, that when we +reached home the first thing poor Madame Panpan came to do, was +to fall upon her husband’s neck, and in a voice broken with +sobs, and as though her heart would break, to thank that merciful +God who had spared her in her trouble, that she might still work +for him and his children! you would not be so ready with your +blame.</p> +<p>But there was a heavier accusation still. Did you not, +sir, entertain Madame to supper in the Rue de Roule? with the +utmost extravagance too, not to mention the omelette +soufflée with which you must needs tickle your appetites, +and expressly order for the occasion? And more than that: +did you not then take coffee in the Rue St. Honoré, and +play at dominoes with Madame in the salon? Alas, yes! all +this is true, and the cause still more true and more sad; for it +was under the terrible impression that Madame Panpan and her two +children—for they were both with us, you will remember, +even little Henri—had not eaten of one tolerable meal +throughout <!-- page 162--><a name="page162"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 162</span>a whole week, that these +unpardonable acts were committed on the Sunday. An omelette +soufflée, you know, must he ordered; but as for the +dominoes, I admit that that was an indiscretion.</p> +<p>Père Panpan drooped and drooped. The cord of his +gymnasium swung uselessly above his head; he tottered no more +along the corridors of the hospital. He had ceased to be +the pet of the medical profession. His malady was obstinate +and impertinent; it could neither be explained nor driven away; +and as all the deep theories propounded respecting it, or carried +into practical operation for its removal, proved to be mere +elaborate fancies, or useless experiments, the medical +profession—happily for Panpan—retired from the field +in disgust.</p> +<p>“I do believe it was the button!” exclaimed +Panpan, one Sunday afternoon, with a strange light gleaming in +his eyes. Madame replied only with a sob. “You +have seen many of them?” he abruptly demanded of me.</p> +<p>“Of what?”</p> +<p>“Buttons.”</p> +<p>“There are a great many of them made in England,” +I replied. Where were we wandering?</p> +<p>Panpan took my hand in his, and, with a gentle pressure that +went to my very heart, exclaimed: “I do believe it was the +brass button after all. I hope to God it was not an English +button!”</p> +<p>I can’t say whether it was or not. But, as to poor +Père Panpan, we buried him at Bicêtre.</p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">some german +sundays</span>.</p> +<p>Of how Sunday is really spent by the labouring classes in some +towns in Germany, I claim, as an English workman who has worked +and played on German ground, some right to speak. It is +possible that I may relate matters which some do not suspect, and +concerning which others have already made up their minds; but, as +I shall <!-- page 163--><a name="page163"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 163</span>tell nothing but truths, I trust I +may not very much disconcert the former, nor put the latter +completely out of patience; nor offend anybody.</p> +<p>To begin with Hamburg. I spent seven months in this +free, commercial port. I came into Hamburg on a Sunday +morning; and, although everything was new and strange to me, and +a number of things passed before my eyes which could never be +seen in decorous London, yet there were unmistakable signs of +Sunday in them all—only it was not the Sunday to which I +had been born and bred. The shops were closed, and there +was stillness in the houses, if not in the streets. I +passed by the fore-courted entrance to a theatre, and its doors +were shut; but one could easily guess by the bills at the +door-posts that it offered histrionic entertainment for the +evening. Wandering through some beautifully-wooded walks +which encircle the city, I met many promenaders, trim, +well-dressed, and chatty; and when I turned back into the city, +was once or twice absorbed in the streams of people which flowed +from the church doors. One thing was certain; the people +were not at work. It struck me at once; for I met them at +every turn in their clean faces and spruce clothes—the +veritable mechanic may be known in every country—and there +was the happy look and the lounging gait in all, which told that +they had laid down their implements of trade for that day, and +were thoroughly at leisure. When I came to be domiciled and +fairly at work, I learned to discriminate more clearly between +many apparently irreconcilable things; and will here roughly set +down what we did, or did not, on Sundays, in the emporium and +outlet of Northern Germany; which, it will be well to remember, +is thoroughly Lutheran-Protestant in its faith.</p> +<p>There was a church not far from our workshop—I think the +Jacobi-Kirche—which had the sweetest set of Dutch bells +that ever rung to measure, and these played at six o’clock +in the morning on every day in the week; but, to our minds, they +never played so beautiful a melody as when they woke us on the +Sunday morning, to the delightful consciousness of being able to +listen to them awhile, through the drowsy medium of our upper +feather bed. Once fairly roused, properly attired, and +breakfasted with the Herr, what did we next? Sometimes we +worked till mid-day, but that was a rarity; for our ordinary +day’s labour was thirteen hours, <!-- page 164--><a +name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 164</span>with +scarcely a blink of rest at meal-times, and often we had not +stirred from the house during the whole week, but had worn out +the monotonous hours between bed and workboard. When, +however, orders pressed, we did work; but this again was no new +thing to me, for I had done the same thing in London; had toiled +deep into the Saturday night, and had been up again to work on +the Sunday morning, because some gentleman or lady who was +engaged, I dare say, in their morning devotions, could not bide +the ordinary time for their trinkets. If we did work, which +as I have said was a rarity, our ordinary pay of two schillinge, +scarcely twopence per hour, was increased to three.</p> +<p>Sometimes we went to church; and we always found a goodly +congregation there. The service was in good honest German; +and the preacher—quaintly conspicuous to an English eye by +his velvet skull-cap, and a wonderfully plaited frill which +bristled round his neck—was always earnest and impressive, +and often eloquent. Among other religious services, I well +remember that of the Busse and Bet-Tag (day of Repentance and +Prayer); the anniversary of the battle of Leipsic; and a +remarkable sermon preached on St. Michael’s Day, and of +which I bought a copy after the service of a poor widow who stood +at the church door. If the weather were fine, we strolled +along the banks of the beautiful Alster, or made short excursions +into the country; and here again all was repose, for I recollect +having once had pointed out to me as a matter of wonder a woman +who was toiling in the field. Or, if the weather were +stormy and wet, we stayed in the workshop and read, or made +drawings, or worked in the manufacture of some favourite +tool. Often, again, we had especial duties to perform on +that day in the shape of visiting some sick craftsman in the +hospital, to pay him his weekly allowance, or convey him a book, +or some little creature comforts. The Sunday morning was an +authorised visiting time, and the hospital was usually +crowded—too crowded with patients, as we thought—and +each had his cluster of cheering friends. Or we paid +friendly visits to fellow workmen; smoked quiet pipes, and told +travellers’ stories; or listened to the uncertain essays of +our brethren of the Männergesangverein as they practised +their part music. There was one piece of business +transacted on the Sunday morning which may have been sinful, +although we did not view it in that light. We paid our +tailors’ bills on the Sunday morning if we had <!-- page +165--><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +165</span>the money, or ordered new garments if we had credit; +and I believe it is a practice more generally prevalent even in +England than gentlefolks are apt to imagine.</p> +<p>We dined with the Herr at noon, and at one o’clock were +at liberty for the day. I have seen a Danish harvest-home +on a Sunday afternoon in the pretty village of Altona; watching +its merry mummers as they passed by the old church-yard wall, +where Klopstock lies buried. I have attended a funeral as a +real mourner, followed by the mourning professionals in the +theatrical trappings with which the custom of Hamburg usually +adorns them. If we bent our steps, as we sometimes did, +through the Altona gate to Hamburger Berg, we came upon a scene +of hubbub and animation which was something between Clare Market +on Saturday night, and High Street, Greenwich, at fair +time. Stalls, booths, and baskets lined the way; flowers, +fruit, and pastry disputed possession of the side-paths with +sugar-plums, sticks and tobacco-pipes; and, although +Franconi’s Circus was not open yet, it gave every promise +of being so; and the air already rang with voices of showmen, and +the clangour of instruments. In the Summer there were gay +boats on the Alster, and nautical holiday-makers were busy with +oar and sail; while, in the Winter months, if the ice held well, +there was no end of skating and sledging; and then we had a +pleasant winter-garden near the Tivoli, with orange-trees in +tubs, the mould so covered over as to form extemporary tables, +and the green leaves and pale fruit shining above our +heads. At the upper end was a conservatory of choice +plants, which was more particularly appropriated to the ladies +and children. The café pavilions on the Alster +steamed odoriferously; punch and hot coffee were in the +ascendant; and there were more cigars smoked in an afternoon on +the Jungfern Stieg (the Maiden’s Walk) than would have +stored the cases of a London suburban tobacconist.</p> +<p>These may, perhaps, be reckoned mere idlings, but there were +occasionally official doings on the Sunday, which might have been +national, if Hamburg had been a nation, and which no doubt were +eminently popular. Two such, I remember; one a grand review +of the Bürger Militär; the other the public +confirmation of the apprentices and others, and the conscription +of the youth of the city. The former was a trying +affair. Some twelve thousand citizen-soldiers had to turn +out, fully rigged and equipped, by early dawn, ready for any +amount of drill and evolution. Many were the +stories—more witty than generous—of the whereabout of +their uniforms <!-- page 166--><a name="page166"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 166</span>and accoutrements; as to their being +deposited in Lombardian hands, or wholly used up since the last +grand field-day some three years before. Such furbishing as +there was of brass ornaments and metal-buttons; such an oiling +and sand-papering of brown muskets, and such a rearrangement of +blue tunics which, after all, did not match in colour, length, +nor appointments! Fortunately our warriors did not burn +powder; and there was enough of military ardour among them to +carry them through the fatigue of the day. It required a +great deal; for, like other military bodies of a late day, the +commissariat department totally broke down, and citizens were +kept hungering and thirsting upon the blank, dusty plain, within +half-a-mile of stored-up abundance. The confirmation of the +apprentices and the conscription of the young men was a more +serious matter. It took place in the great square, where a +stage and pavilion were erected; all the authority of the senate, +and the services of the church were united to render it solemn +and impressive. It was a source of deep interest to many of +my own acquaintances, more especially to the young cooper who +worked underground at our house, and who, just released from his +apprenticeship, had the good or ill fortune to be drawn for the +next year’s levy.</p> +<p>There was one institution, not precisely of Hamburg, but at +the very doors of it, which exercised considerable influence upon +its habits and morals, and that of no beneficial kind. This +was the Danish State Lottery, the office of which was at Altona, +where the prizes were periodically drawn upon Sunday. The +Hamburgers were supposed to receive certain pecuniary advantages +from this lottery in the shape of benefits bestowed upon the +Waisenkinder of the town, who, like our own blue-coat boys of the +old time, were the drawers of the numbers; but the advantages +were very questionable, seeing that the bulk of speculators were +the Hamburgers themselves, and the great prizes of the +undertaking went to swell the Danish Royal Treasury. +Portions of shares could be purchased for as low a sum as +fourpence, and the Hamburg Senate, in self-defence, and with a +great show of propriety, prohibited the traffic of them among +servants and apprentices: which prohibition passed, of course, +for next to nothing, seeing that the temptation was very strong, +and the injunction very weak. It was a curious sight to +witness the crowd upon the occasion of a public drawing in the +quaint old square of Altona; a pebble-dotted space with a dark +box in the centre, not unlike the basement of a gallows. On +this stood the <!-- page 167--><a name="page167"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 167</span>wheel, bright in colours and gold, +and by its side two orphan boys in school-costume, who officiated +at the ceremony. One boy turned the wheel, the other drew +the numbers, and called them aloud as he held them before the +spectators; while the blast of a trumpet heralded the +announcement. What feverish anxiety, what restless cupidity +might be fostering among that crowd no man could calculate, and +certainly, to my mind, there was no worse thing done on the +Sunday in all Hamburg than this exhibition of legalised +gambling.</p> +<p>Of course the theatres were open, and we of the working people +were not unfrequent visitors there. But let us thoroughly +understand the nature of a German theatrical entertainment. +There is rarely more than one piece, and the whole performance is +usually included in the period of two hours—from seven till +nine. The parterre, or pit, is a mere promenade or standing +place, in which the few seats are let at a higher price than the +rest of the space. The whole of the arrangements are +conducted with the utmost decorum: so much so, that they would +probably disappoint some people who look upon the shouting, +drovers’ whistling, and “hooroar” and hissing +of some of our theatres as part of the legitimate drama. On +the Christmas day, when I had the option of getting gloriously +fuddled with a select party of English friends, or of +entertaining myself in some less orthodox way, I preferred to +witness the opera of “Norma” at the Stadt Theatre, +and think I was the better for the choice. +“Hamlet” was the source of another Sunday +evening’s gratification (an anniversary play of the +Hamburgers, and intensely popular with the Danes), although with +unpardonable barbarity the German censors entirely blotted out +the gravediggers, and never buried the hapless, “sweet +Ophelia.” In the gallery of the Imperial Opera House +at Vienna, liveried servants hand sweetmeats, ices, and coffee +about between the acts; and although the Hamburger theatricals +have not yet reached this stage of refinement, there is much in +the shape of social convenience in their arrangement, which even +we might copy.</p> +<p>Sometimes, we workmen spent a pleasant hour or two in the +concert-rooms, of which there were several admirably conducted; +or pored hours long over the papers, chiefly literary, in the +Alster Halle; sipping our coffee, and listening in the pauses of +our reading to the band of choice musicians, who played +occasionally through the evening. Sometimes we dived into +snug cellars, where they sold good beer, or mixed odoriferous +punch; and here again music <!-- page 168--><a +name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>would come, +though in a more questionable shape, her attendant priestesses +being the wandering harp-players, who sang sentimental ditties to +the twanging of their instruments. Other places there were, +some in the city, and some outside the walls, where an abominable +medley of waltz, smoke, wine, and lotto made up the +evening’s entertainment. The larger of these +establishments had some pretensions to gentility, seeing that +they did not allow gentlemen to dance with their hats on; but +whatever other claims they set up to the respect of the community +may be briefly set down as worth very little. It will not +unnaturally follow that where there is much liberty there will be +some licence, and with respect to Hamburg, it is in her +dance-houses that this excess is to be found. But where is +the wonder? The Hamburger authorities in this, and some +other cases, set up a sort of excise officer, and grant permits +for this frivolity, and that vice, at a regular scale of +charges.</p> +<p>In spite of these half-incentives and whole encouragements to +laxity of behaviour, what is the general character of the +Hamburger population? I venture to call them provident, +temperate, and industrious. Let it be remembered that we +speak of a mercantile port, in some parts a little like Wapping, +and into and out of which there is a perpetual ebb and flow of +seamen of all nations, full of boisterous humour, of strong life, +and wilful in their recent escape from ship restraint. The +worst of the dance-houses are situated near the water’s +edge, and are almost wholly frequented by sailors; while the +other resorts which are open to the charge of licentiousness, +have also a strong proportion of maritime frequenters, and the +rest is mostly made up of the wandering workmen of Germany, to +many of whom Hamburg is a culminating point, and who are, as it +were, out on leave. But, after all, these cancer spots are +few indeed, when compared with the great proportion of the means +of amusement thrown open, or, rather never closed to the +people. Wander on the Sunday when and where you will; in +theatre, concert-room, or coffee-house; in public garden or +beer-cellar; you will find them joyous indeed, sometimes loud in +song or conversation, and taking generally a sort of pride in a +dash of rudeness, calling it independence, but you will never +find them sottish; nowhere cumbering the footway with their +prostrate carcases; nowhere reeling zigzag, blear-eyed and +stupid, to a miserable home.</p> +<p>On tramp towards the South, we rested on the Sunday in +Schwerin, the capital of Mecklenburg; but there was public <!-- +page 169--><a name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +169</span>mourning in the city for a death in the ducal family, +and the usual Sunday festivities were forbidden. On +attending church in the evening I found a large congregation, and +the service similar to that of Hamburg. In the afternoon, +as there was no military parade or music, over the absence of +which the chambermaids of Der Gross-Herzog moaned dolorously, we +rambled through the ducal garden, admiring the quaintly-shaped +basin in its centre, its numerous statues, and fresh grass. +The town was dull and methodical enough, but would have been +rejoicing, if it had not been respectfully mournful.</p> +<p>Our next resting-place was Berlin, where we stayed two months; +and here, according to our experience, the Sunday afternoon +recreations differed only in tone from those of Hamburg, being +less boisterous in their gaiety than in the former seaman’s +paradise. We never worked on Sunday in Berlin, nor did any +of our artizan friends, although there were very pressing orders +in the shape of those unvarying German court douceurs, +diamond-circled snuff boxes, and insignia of the Red and Black +Eagle. Once, we accompanied our principal, by special +invitation, to the Hasenheide, to witness the rifle practice, +civil and military, among its heather and sandy hollows. +Officers and rank and file alike were there; the officer +practising with the private’s heavy gewehr, and the private +in his turn with the light weapon of his superior in grade. +There were some capital shots among them. Thence, on the +same day, we waded through the sand to Tegel, to visit the +residence and private grounds of Baron Humboldt; and from a mound +in his garden beheld the beautifully picturesque view of Lake +Tegel, and the distant towers of Spandau. I have been +present on the Sunday at a review of the Royal Guard in their +striking uniform of black and dazzling white.</p> +<p>Once, we made a river voyage in a huge tub of a boat along the +weedy banks of the Spree, under the command of a female +captain—a jolly matron, weighing I am afraid to guess how +many stone. I am told it was a very plebeian piece of +business, but we were very happy notwithstanding. We had a +Tafel-lieder party on board, with a due proportion of guitars, +and they played and sang all the way to Treptow and back +again. Once arrived at our destination, we sat upon the +grass, and watched the merry groups around, or sauntered along +the margin of the stream, sipping occasionally very +inconsiderable quantities of feeble cordials; and when the +evening <!-- page 170--><a name="page170"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 170</span>drew near, we re-embarked, and, +under the safe conduct of our female commodore—who was +skilled in the difficult navigation of the shallow +river—returned soberly home. The environs of Berlin +are of no great beauty, the city being built on a sandy plain, +with the single eminence of the Kreutzberg, from which it can be +viewed with advantage; but in and about the city there are +beautiful gardens, private and of royal foundation, and these are +invariably open to the public. One happy Sunday afternoon +we spent in Charlottenburg, the pleasure-palace of the king; and +one other in the noble botanical gardens in the city; while on a +fine day the avenue of lime trees, Unter-den-Linden, in its crowd +of promenaders, and social groups at the refreshment tables, +presented an animated, and, to my mind, a recreative and +humanising spectacle. Music was everywhere; and in the +theatres, in the display of pyrotechnic eccentricities, or +perhaps in ballooning—but that was English—the +evening was variously spent. There may be dance-houses and +other abominations in Berlin, as in Hamburg, but I never heard of +them, and if they existed, more was the pity. For my own +part, I was happy in enjoying the moderate pleasures of life in +company with the majority of my fellow-workmen, who, I must again +say, and insist upon, were not at work, but at rest, on the +Sunday. It is true that here, as elsewhere, tailors and +boot-makers (master-men) were content to take measures, and +receive orders from the workmen, for very little other +opportunity presented itself for such necessary service.</p> +<p>A few hours’ whirl on the railway on a Sunday saw us in +Leipsic. This was at the Easter festival; and we stayed two +months in this Saxon market of the world, embracing in their +course the most important of the three great markets in the +year. If ever there was a fair opportunity of judging the +question of Sunday labour and Sunday rest, it was in Leipsic, at +this period. If Sunday work be a necessary consequence of +Sunday recreation—an absurd paradox, surely—it would +have been exhibited in a commercial town, at a period when all +the elements of frivolity, as gathered together at a fair; and +all the wants of commerce compressed into a few brief weeks, were +brought into co-existence. Yet in no town in Germany did I +witness so complete a cessation from labour on the Sunday. +There was no question of working. Early in the morning +there was, it is true, a domestic market in the great square, +highly interesting to a stranger from the number <!-- page +171--><a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 171</span>of +curious costumes collected together; the ringletted Polish Jew, +old Germans from Altenburg, seeming masqueraders from the mining +districts of the Erzgeberge, and country folks from every +neighbouring village, who flocked to Leipsic with their wares and +edibles. But all this was at an end long before the church +service commenced. I have been in the Nicolai-Kirche +(remarkable for its lofty roof, upheld by columns in the form of +palm trees), and the congregation thronged the whole +edifice. And at a smaller church, I was completely wedged +in by the standing crowd of unmistakable working people, whose +congregational singing was particularly effective. The +German Protestant church service is not so long as our own. +There are only a few pews in the body of the building; and the +major part of the audience stand during the service. I was +not so well pleased with one sermon I heard in the English +church, for it happened to be the effort of a German preacher; a +student in our tongue, whose discourse was indeed intrinsically +good, and would have been solemn, if the pauses and emphases had +only been in the right places.</p> +<p>I never worked on Sunday in Leipsic, nor was I acquainted with +any one who did. The warehouses were strictly closed; and a +few booths, with trifling gewgaws, were alone to be seen. +The city was at rest. Leipsic has but one theatre, and to +this the prices of admission are doubled in fair-time, which +placed it out of our reach. Thus we were forced to be +content with humbler sources of amusement, and to find +recreation, which we readily did, in the beautiful promenades +round the city, laid out by Dr. Müller; in country rambles +to Breitenfeld, and other old battle-fields; in tracing the +winding paths of a thin wood, near the town, wonderful to us from +the flakes of wool (baumwolle) which whitened the ground. +Or again, among the bands of music and happy crowds which dotted +the Rosenthal—a title, by the bye, more fanciful than just, +seeing that the vale in question is only a grassy undulating +plain. Here we sometimes met the “Herr,” with +wife on arm, and exchanged due salutations.</p> +<p>The fair, such as we understand by the name, commenced in the +afternoon, and was a scene of much noise and some drollery. +The whole town teemed with itinerant musicians, whose violent +strains would sometimes burst from the very ground under your +feet, as it appeared, issuing as they did from the open mouths of +beer and wine-cellars. Quiet coffee-houses there were, in +which grave citizens smoked and read; and admirable concerts in +saloons, and in the <!-- page 172--><a name="page172"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 172</span>open air. To one of these +latter I was seduced by the mendacious announcement of a certain +Wagner of Berlin, that a whole troop of real Moors would perform +fantastic tricks before high heaven; and on paying the price of +admission, I had to run the gauntlet through a score of +black-headed Teutons, who salaamed and grinned as they ushered me +into the blank space beyond, containing nothing more interesting +than a few tables and chairs, a dumb brass band, and a swarm of +hungry waiters. I saw no dance-houses, such as there were +in Hamburg; and by nine o’clock the festivities of the day +were at an end. The Easter fair lasted some five or six +weeks, and at its termination its merriment disappeared. +The wandering minstrels wailed their last notes as they departed, +and the quiet city was left to its students and the pigeons.</p> +<p>So much for my experiences of Protestant Germany as regards +Sunday occupation. I have, however, said nothing of museums +or picture galleries. I should be sorry to misrepresent the +kindred commercial cities of Hamburg and Leipsic; but I think +they may shake hands on this question, seeing that, at the period +of my visit, they possessed neither the one nor the other. +I do not say that there were no stored-up curiosities, dignified +with the title of museums. But, as far as the public +instruction was concerned, they were nearly useless, being little +known and less visited, and certainly not accessible on the +Sunday. Schwerin, in Mecklenburg, possesses a noble ducal +museum of arts and sciences, but this also was closed on the +weekly holiday; and in Berlin, where the museum, par excellence, +may vie with any in Europe, and which city is otherwise rich in +natural and art collections, the doors of all such places were, +on the Sunday, strictly closed against the people. Of the +good taste which authorises the display of stage scenery and +decorations (and that not of the best), and yet forbids the +inspection of the masterpieces of painting; of the judgment which +patronises beer and tobacco, yet virtually condemns as unholy the +sight of the best evidences of nature’s grandeur, and the +beautiful results of human efforts in art, it is not necessary to +treat here.</p> +<h2><!-- page 173--><a name="page173"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 173</span>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +<p class="gutsumm"><span class="smcap">more sundays +abroad</span>.</p> +<p>Still on tramp toward the south, we came to Dresden, and there +rested five days; but as they were week-days their experiences +gave us no insight into the Sunday usages of the place, and I +only allude to them because it would seem unbecoming to pass the +capital of Saxony without a word; and because I feel morally +convinced that of all the art-wonders collected in the Zwinger, +Das Grüne Gewölbe, and in the picture gallery, all of +which we visited, not any of them are visible to the public on +Sunday. <a name="citation173"></a><a href="#footnote173" +class="citation">[173]</a> On a sultry day in August we +struggled, dusty and athirst, into Vienna. It is said that +the first impressions of a traveller are the most faithful, and I +therefore transcribe from a diary of that time some of my +recollections of the first Sunday spent in the capital of +Austria. It is not flattering.</p> +<p>“Yesterday (Sunday), we rambled through a part of the +city known as Lerchenfeld, in the suburb of St. Joseph, where the +low life of Vienna is exhibited. It was a kind of +fair. The way was lined with petty booths and stalls, +furnished with fruit, pipes, and common pastry. Here were +sold live rabbits and birds; there, paper clock-faces, +engravings, songs, and figures of saints. In one part was a +succession of places of public resort, like our tea-gardens in +appearance, but devoted to the sale of other beverages; tea being +here almost unknown, except as a medicine. From each of +them there streamed the mingled sounds of obstreperous music and +human voices, while in several there appeared to be a sort of +conjuring exhibition in course of performance. Further on, +there came from the opposite side of the way the screaming of a +flageolet, heard far above its accompaniment of a violin and a +couple of horns, to all of which the shuffling and scraping of +many feet formed a sort of dull bass, as the dancers whirled +round in their interminable waltz. Looking into the window +of the building thus outrageously conspicuous, we saw a motley +crowd of persons of both sexes, and in such a variety of costumes +as scarcely any other city but Vienna could furnish; some of <!-- +page 174--><a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>them careering round in the excitement of the dance; +others impatiently awaiting their turn, or quizzing the dancers; +while a third party sat gravely at the side-tables, smoking their +pipes, playing at cards, and sipping their wine and beer. +Passing onward, we came upon a diminutive merryman, screaming +from the platform of his mountebank theatre, the nature of the +entertainment and the lowness of the price of +admission—‘Only four kreutzers for the first +place!’</p> +<p>“Continuing our course, we were attracted into a +side-street by a crowd, among whom stood conspicuous a brass +musical band, and an old man in a semi-religious costume of black +and white, bearing a large wooden crucifix in his hand. In +anticipation of some religious ceremony, we waited awhile to +watch its development. It was a funeral, and the whole +procession soon formed itself in the following order:—First +came the large crucifix, then a boy bearing a banner on which was +painted the figure of the Virgin; then came six other boys, +followed by the same number of girls, all neatly and cleanly +dressed; and then the coffin, hung with scarlet drapery, adorned +with flowers, and having a small silver crucifix at its +head. We were told it was the funeral of a girl of +thirteen. Close upon the coffin came the minister, or +priest, clad in a black, loosish gown, and wearing a curiously +crown-shaped cap, also black. Every head was uncovered as +he and the coffin passed. Then came, as we imagined, the +real mourners of the dead, followed by six exceedingly old women, +mourners by profession, and immediately behind them the brass +band which had first attracted our attention. The latter, +as soon as the procession was fairly in motion, burst forth into +a noisy, and by no means melancholy strain, and continued to play +for some time; they suddenly ceased, and there was heard from +some one at the head of the procession a Latin prayer, which was +immediately echoed by the old women in the rear, in the same +drowsy, monotonous tone in which the church responses are usually +made. The scene was altogether curious and striking; the +progress of the procession was everywhere marked by uncovered +heads and signs of sympathy and respect; but in spite of its +attempted solemnity, there was a holiday appearance about it +which jarred sadly with its real character of grief and +death.”</p> +<p>I have given this description a front place because it is the +worst thing I can say of Vienna, and in no other part of the city +did I ever see its like. During a stay of twelve months, I +lost no opportunity of enjoying all that the Viennese enjoyed, or +of witnessing whatever <!-- page 175--><a +name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 175</span>was part of +the national customs in festival, holiday, or religious +ceremonial. In addition to the Sundays, which were all, to +a certain extent, days of rejoicing—there were nine +distinct festivals in the year enjoined by the church, and on +which, if they fell on week-days, the working people rested from +their labours. Of course each of these days had its special +religious reference and obligations, and these were in general +faithfully observed; but, apart from this, they were essentially +holidays, and, as no deduction of wages was made by the employers +on their account, they did not fall as a burden upon the working +classes. These days were: New Year’s Day, the +Annunciation, Good Friday, Easter and Whit Sunday, Corpus Christi +Day, All Saints’ Day, the Birth of the Virgin, Christmas +Day, and the festival of St. Leopold, the patron saint of +Vienna. On the strictly church festivals, with the +exception of All Saints’ Day, theatrical performances, and +public amusements generally, were interdicted, but rest and quiet +recreation, in addition to the religious observances, were their +great characteristics. Easter and Whit Monday were among +the Volks Feste (people’s feasts), as well as one known as +that of the Brigittenau, from the place in which it is held; and +another on the first of May, when the laüfer (running +footmen) have their races in the Prater, and the emperor permits +himself to be mobbed—at least the Emperor Francis +did—as he strolls for a half-hour or so among his people in +their own park. Then the Bohemians have a special religious +festival, when one is astonished to see, in out-of-the-way niches +and corners, a perhaps hitherto-unobserved figure of an +amiable-looking priest, with a star on his forehead, now hung +about and conspicuous with wreaths and festoons of flowers, and +bright with the glittering of tiny lamps. This is the Holy +St. John of Nepomuk. I have, however, nothing to do with +the religious ceremonies of the Catholic Church. It is +sufficient for my purpose to know that I watched the solemn and +splendid procession of mingled royalty, priest, and people, on +Corpus Christi Day, from the open door of a coffee and wine-house +in the Kohl-market; and that, at the Easter festival, after +ascending and descending the Mount Calvary, near Vienna, or +rather having been borne up and down its semicircular flight of +steps, and past the modelled groups of painted figures to +represent the life of Christ, from the birth to the crowning act +of the crucifixion on the summit, I then sauntered away with my +landlord (a cabinet-maker) and his family to Weinhaus, to drink +of the new wine called heueriger. <!-- page 176--><a +name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 176</span>It is +enough that, on All Saints’ Day, after wandering awhile +about a swampy churchyard in the suburb of Maria Hilf, to see the +melancholy spot of light which glimmered at each grave-head, I +went to the Burg Theatre, and witnessed Shakespeare’s play +of “King Lear” (and the best actor in Vienna played +the Fool); and further, that I spent the evening of Christmas Day +in Daum’s coffee-house in reading <i>Galignani’s +Messenger</i>, in order to bring myself, in imagination at least, +as near home as possible.</p> +<p>The jewellers in Vienna are not such elderly apprentices as +they are in Hamburg, Leipsic, and the majority of small towns in +Germany. They dine at gast haüse, and sleep in the +independence of a separate lodging. They have, therefore, +more liberty; but there are many trades in Vienna among whom the +old usages still exist, by which they become a kind of vassals, +living and sleeping under the patriarchal roof. All worked +twelve hours a-day alike, from six till seven, including one hour +for dinner. Various licences were, however, allowed; +quarter-of-day or half-hour deductions were scarcely known; and I +have myself spent the morning at a public execution, without +suffering any loss in wages. This brings me to the Sunday +work; and I say, unhesitatingly that, as a system, it does not +exist. I never worked on the Sunday myself during my whole +twelve months’ stay. I do not know that there was any +law against it; but rest was felt to be a necessity after a week +of seventy-two hours’ labour. It is not unusual, both +in Germany and France, to engage new hands on the Sunday morning, +because it is a leisure time, convenient to both master and +workman; and I have sought for work at this time, and found the +Herr in a silk dressing-gown, and white satin slippers with pink +bows. I recollect visiting a working cabinet-maker’s +on one Sunday morning, whose men slept on the premises, and found +the workshop a perfect model of cleanliness and order: every tool +in its place, and the whole swept and polished up; and was once +invited, under the impression that, as an Englishman, I ought to +know something of newspaper presses, to inspect those of the +Imperial Printing Office, with the last number of the Wiener +Zeitung in type; and this was on a Sunday morning—a time +especially chosen on account of the absence of the workmen. +My landlord, a master-man, would sometimes work in the Sunday +morning when hard pressed; but, if he did, he took his revenge in +the week.</p> +<p>As we did not work, at what did we play? Perhaps there +was a <!-- page 177--><a name="page177"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 177</span>sick comrade to visit in the great +hospital; and we paced the long corridors, and stepped lightly +through the lofty wards to his bedside. Or, if he were +convalescent, we sought him out, among many others, in the open +square, with its broad grass-plots and young trees, where, in his +grey loose gown, he smoked a morning pipe. Or we went to +church, I, with others, to the Evangelical Chapel near the +Augustine Platz. There, among a closely-pressed throng, we +heard admirable discourses (and not too long, the whole service +being concluded in an hour), and heard much beautiful music; but, +to my mind, there were too many tawdry ornaments in this place of +worship—too many lamps about the altar; and the altar-piece +itself—a gigantic figure of the Saviour on the Cross, said +to be by Albert Dürer—seemed to be out of place.</p> +<p>It was lawful in Vienna to bathe on Sunday; and this we did, +with great delight, in the public baths upon the Danube. Or +we strolled about the Glacis; attended the miniature review in +the Hof-Burg; wandered out as far as Am-Spitz, by the long wooden +bridge over the broad and melancholy river; or, what was better, +sauntered in some one of the beautiful gardens of the Austrian +nobility,—those of Schwargenberg, Lichtenstein, or in the +Belvidere—thrown open to the public, not only on Sunday, +but on every day in the week.</p> +<p>As the day waned, music burst forth in many strains at +once. There was a knot of artisans in our back room, who +were learning the entire “Czar and Zimmerman,” and +who were very vigorous about this hour. At seven, the +theatres opened their doors, with something of our own rush and +press, although there was a guard-house, and a whole company of +grenadiers in the ante-room; but, once in the interior, all was +order and decorum. There was, of course, a difference in +tone and character between the city and the suburban theatres, +inasmuch as the ices and coffee of the court playhouses found +their parallel in the beer and hot sausages of the Joseph Stadt +and An-der-Wieden; but the performances of all rarely occupied +more than two, and never exceeded three hours; and there was an +amount of quiet and propriety manifested during the +entertainment, which said something for the authorities, but more +for the people.</p> +<p>As the night deepened, the ball-rooms and dancing-booths of +Vienna,—the Sperl’s, Das Tanz Salon beim Schaf, and +so downward to the dens of Lerchenfeld—grew furious in +music, and hysterical in waltz. It was something +fearful. It made your eyes twinkle, <!-- page 178--><a +name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 178</span>and your +head dizzy, to see that eternal whirling of so many human +teetotums. They seemed to see nothing, to feel nothing, to +know nothing; there was no animation in their looks; no +speculation in their eyes; nothing but a dead stare, as if the +dancers were under a spell, only to be released when the music +was at an end. Generally speaking, I think the ball-rooms +of continental cities are the curses and abominations of the +Sunday. My landlord, who was no moralist, but played faro, +draughts, and billiards on the Sunday evening, would not hear of +his daughter attending a public ballroom. There is a +curious anomaly in connection with places of public entertainment +which strikes a stranger at once, and which is equally true of +Berlin as of Vienna; it is this: that, while private houses are +closed at nine and ten o’clock, according to the season of +the year, coffee-houses, taverns, dancing and concert-rooms, are +open till midnight. Up to the former hours you may gain +admission to your own house by feeing the porter to the extent of +twopence; but, later than this, it is dangerous to try the +experiment.</p> +<p>To return to out-of-door amusements. A visit to +Schœnbrun was business for a whole afternoon; for we must +perforce each time unravel the windings to the pure spring in the +maze, with vague and mysterious ideas of some time or other +falling upon the grave of the Duc de Reichstadt, there secretly +buried, according to popular tradition. On rare occasions +we spent the whole of Sunday in some more distant palatial +domain, or suburban retreat. In Klosterneuburgh, with its +good wine: in the Brühl, with its rugged steeps, its +military memorials, and ruined castles; at the village of +Bertholdsdorf, with its Turkish traditions; among the viny slopes +of the Leopoldiberg, or the more distant and wilder tract of +mingled rock and forest which encircle the Vale of Helen. +Above all, there was Laxenberg,—an imperial pleasure-palace +and garden, and a whole fairy-land in itself, peopled by the +spirits of ancient knights and courtly dames. Some one of +the Hapsburgs had built, many years ago, a knightly castle on a +lake, and in it were stored dim suits of armour of Maximilian; a +cabinet of Wallenstein; grim portraits of kings and warriors; +swords, halbards, jewelled daggers, and antique curiosities +innumerable; only rather prosaically completed by the exhibition +of the every-day suit of the last Emperor of Austria, which, +however affecting a spectacle for a simple-hearted +Viennese—and they are mere babies in matters of +royalty—irresistibly reminded <!-- page 179--><a +name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 179</span>one of +Holywell Street, London, and cast-off regimentals. +Laxenberg is distant less than a shilling ride, and about two +hours’ walk from Vienna; and, like our Hampton Court +Palace, is thrown unreservedly open to the public. There +were no end to its wonders: fishing-grounds, and boats upon the +lake; waterfalls, and rustic bridges were there; and one little +elegant pavilion, perched on the water, dedicated to the beauties +of Windsor, illustrating its scenery in transparent +porcelain. There was a list for knightly riders; a dais for +the Queen of Beauty; and places for belted nobles, saintly +abbots, and Wambas in motley; an Ashby-de-la-Zouch in miniature, +which a little imagination could people. Then, for the +plebeians, there were leaping-bars and turning-posts, +skittle-alleys, and the quintain; and, for all alike, clusters of +noble trees, broad grassy meads, and flowers unnumbered. +There was even a farm-house, homely and substantial, with a dairy +and poultry-yard, sheep in the paddocks, and cattle in the +stalls.</p> +<p>We started from Vienna on a Sunday morning on board the +steamboat Karl for Linz; and trudging thence on foot came on the +following Saturday night into Salzburg, the queen of the +Salzack. We rested here one happy Sunday: not so much in +the town, which had its abundant curiosities, as in the pleasure +gardens of the old Archbishops of Salzburg, at an easy stroll +from it. This garden is pleasant enough in itself, but +there are besides a number of water eccentricities in it such as +I should think were in their peculiar fashion unequalled. +Here blooms a cluster of beautiful flowers, covered as it were by +a glass shade, but which turns out to be only water. There +a miniature palace is in course of erection, with crowds of +workmen in its different storeys, each man at his avocation with +hammer and chisel, pulley and wheel, and the grave architect +himself directing their labour. All this is set in motion +by water, and is not a mere doll’s house, but a symmetrical +model. Then we enter a subterranean grotto, with a roof of +pendant stalactites, where the pleasant sound of falling waters +and the melodious piping of birds fill all the air. There +is a sly drollery too in some of the water performances, invented +years ago by the grave Archbishops of Salzburg; for suddenly the +stalactites are set dripping like a modern shower bath: and the +gigantic stags at its entrance spout water from the very tips of +their horns. The garden is not a Versailles, for there is +nothing grand in any of its hydraulic <!-- page 180--><a +name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>arrangements; but in the beauty with which are clothed +such trifles, the artistic spirit which has suggested its +objects, and the humour which spirts up tiny jets of water by +seats where lovers sit, and in unsuspected places where the +public congregate, even in the middle of a walk, it is a +wonderful and delightful exhibition. This garden was +thronged by the holiday folks of Salzburg. There was an +official to explain the curious display, and nothing but innocent +gaiety was to be seen.</p> +<p>The Sunday we spent in Munich was passed in the Kirche Unserer +Lieben Frauen, with its self-supporting roof; in the English +Garden; and at a lovely spot on a hill-side, in the environs of +the city. During the week we were escorted by a friend to a +sort of tea-gardens of some notoriety, but found it silent and +deserted. Our friend apologised for its dulness, but +exclaimed, in part explanation, “You should see it on +Sunday!” It was evident that Sunday was a day of rest +and enjoyment, and not a working day in Munich. My own +impression of the Munichers was, that they drank too much beer +every day in the week.</p> +<p>Still tramping towards France, we passed one Sunday in +Heidelberg, among all its romantic wonders; but as everybody +knows, or ought to know, all about Heidelberg, I will not allow +my enthusiasm to lead me into a description which would not be +novel, and might probably be tedious. This was the last +Sunday we spent on German ground. So far as Germany is +concerned, you may look upon everything but museums, picture +galleries, and the like, on Sunday; you may, as Luther says you +ought, “dance on it, ride on it, play on it,—do +anything”—but see that which is most likely to +instruct you. You may visit tawdry shows, and inspect badly +painted scenery; you may let off fireworks; gamble to your ruin; +smoke the eyes out of your head, and dance the head off your +shoulders; but you shall not, with few exceptions, look upon +works of art, or the results of science in museums and picture +galleries. Let it be said, however, that the general +opportunities for acquiring correct and elevated taste are, on +the whole, greater in Germany than in England; and that in many +cities there is a profusion of exterior ornament, more especially +in Munich, in the shape of the fresco paintings of the Palace +Garden, on Isar Thor, and in the Basilica and churches generally, +so that the eye is better educated in artistic combinations; and +the same necessity does not exist for special art instruction +with them as <!-- page 181--><a name="page181"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 181</span>with us. Then, let us never +forget that their public and other gardens are as free to them as +the air they breathe, and that music is almost as universal.</p> +<p>The remembrances I have of Paris Sundays decidedly possess a +character of rest and recreation; of waking in the morning to a +grateful sense of repose; of clean shirts and trimmed beards; and +of delicious breakfasts at our Café aux Quatres Mendiants, +of coffee and white bread, instead of the bouillon and confiture +of the atelier. Did we not work, then? Assuredly we +did sometimes, when hard pressed; but the recollection of those +few occasions is drowned in that of a flood of happy, tranquil +Sundays. When we did work it was from eight till twelve, +which made half a day, and this was the rate at which all +overtime was reckoned. One hard taskmaster I remember, who, +instead of paying us our dues, as is the custom on Saturday +night, at the end of quinze jours, cajoled us to come and work +under the promise of their payment on the Sunday morning. +He failed us like a rogue; and we drudged on for another +quinzaine, Sunday mornings included, in hopeful anticipation of +the receipt of our wages. When we found that he slunk out +of the way, without paying us a sou, we rebelled, sang the +Marseillaise, demanded our wages, and never worked another +Sunday.</p> +<p>I am lost in my endeavours to define the mingled recollections +of Sunday tranquillity, enjoyment, and frivolity during a stay of +eighteen months in Paris. My thoughts run from the +Madelaine to Minu-montant; from Versailles to the Funambule; from +Diogenes’ lantern at St. Cloud to the blind man’s +concert in the Palais Royal. Sometimes I wander over the +plains of Auteuil and Passy; then suddenly find myself examining +a paper-making machine in the Museum of Arts and Trades. Or +I look over the vine fields from the heights of Montmorency at +one moment, and the next am pacing the long galleries of the +Louvre, or the classic chambers of the Palais des Beaux +Arts. I have passed a Whitsunday morning at Versailles +among the paintings; the afternoon at Sèvres among glass +and porcelain; have won a game at dominoes after dinner in Paris; +and have heard the last polka at the Salle Vivienne in the +evening. Paris is a city of extremes; the young +Théophile who works by my side, and is an ingenious fellow +and a clever workman, you will meet next Sunday in the Louvre +discoursing energetically on the comparative merits of the French +and Italian schools of painting; yet this same Théophile +shall be the Titi of the gallery of <!-- page 182--><a +name="page182"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 182</span>the Porte +St. Martin in the evening, who yells slang at his friend on the +opposite side; and the Pierrot or Débardeur of the next +opera masquerade.</p> +<p>With the vivid impressions of many Sundays abroad upon my +mind, I have been wondering whether, after all, the practices of +the continental Sunday have anything to do with the opening of a +museum or picture-gallery in London; and, after profound study, +in the laborious course of which I have several times fallen +asleep, I have come to the deliberate conclusion that there is no +connection between the two things. In the first case, as +regards Germany, seeing that they there almost sedulously close +all that relates to art or science, and give full licence only to +beer and tobacco, to music and dancing on the Sunday—where +is the parallel? In the second, as regards France or Paris, +although it must be admitted that there is unfortunately no +comparison between the Louvre and the National Gallery, it can at +least be claimed that there is no resemblance between the British +Museum and the Bal des Chiens in the Rue St. Honoré. +I take it that to preserve the English Sunday as a day of greater +rest than French or German Sundays ever were, and to add to it +such rational and instructive recreation, as a Museum or a +Picture-Gallery, or a place of innocent recreation could supply, +might be a good thing in the eyes of religious men; and I have +not yet heard of any society or association in any part of the +United Kingdom, which proposes to open a Sunday evening ball at +the Pig and Tinderbox, or to grant licences to the theatrical +performances at the Penny Gaff in the New Cut.</p> +<h2>NOTE.</h2> +<p><a name="footnote173"></a><a href="#citation173" +class="footnote">[173]</a> This is incorrect; the Picture +Gallery is open during the mid-day hours on Sunday.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TRAMP'S WALLET***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 28320-h.htm or 28320-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/3/2/28320 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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