 Letter Forty of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter Forty. Frankfurt. Dear Charlie. It was on the Rhine that we all wanted you with us and other friends, too, who were far away. This is no common everyday stream, but one whose name and renown have been associated with ten thousand pages of history, song, and legend. We have read of the Rhine, listened to its songs, drank its wines, dreamed of its craggy, castled banks, and at last we found ourselves upon its waters, rushing down from their homes in alpine steeps and regions of eternal snow. The deposits of this river have made Holland what she is, and the rich plains of the low countries have been formed by the alluvial deposits of this noble river. The enthusiasm of the Germans toward this stream is well known. They call it Father Rhine and King Rhine, and well may they be proud of its beauty and its historic fame. We took our passage in a fine steamer on a lovely morning, and it took us about eight hours to reach Koblenz. Leaving Cologne we passed an old tower on the edge of the river, and for some miles the prospect was every day enough, and it was not till we approached Bond that we were much impressed with the banks. We passed several villages which appeared to have pleasant localities. I name only Surt, Erfell, Lusdorf, and Alfter. Bond is an old city of Roman date, and has figured largely in the wars of the Rhine. Its population is about sixteen thousand. Bond has a minster which shows itself finally to the voyager on the river, and is a gothic structure of the twelfth century. The university here is famous for its library, and the great names formerly associated with this institution, Schlegel and Niebuhr. Both filled chairs in the college. Prince Albert was educated at this place. Beethoven was born here. If we could have spent a day at the seven mountains I should have been glad, but we were only able to look at them. They vary in height from one thousand and fifty to fourteen hundred and fifty-three feet. The most picturesque of the group is Drachenfels, and the beautiful lines of Byron you will recollect where he speaks of the castled crag of Drachenfels. From this place the stone was taken for the cathedral at Cologne. The summits of these seven mountains are crested with ruined castles. Their sides are well wooded, and around them are spread fruitful vineyards. You know how famous they are in the legendary lore of the Rhine. The view from Drachenfels is said to be one of the finest on the river. After leaving Bond and the ruins of Gottsberg, we soon came to Rollinsleck, a lofty eminence where are the remains of a baronial fortress and a celebrated ruin of an arch. I should judge that the access to this place was by a charming road. The ruins of Rollinsleck are immortalized by the ballad of Schiller. Tradition relates that the castle was destroyed by the Emperor Henry V in the twelfth century. At the foot of the mountain is the sweet little island of Nonenberth of about one hundred acres and the ruins of a convent. The rock here is basaltic and the production of volcanic action. Never did nature present a fairer picture than we gazed upon at this spot. The villages around are pictures of happiness and content, and the scenery such as only the Rhine can exhibit. Passing by the charming, rural-looking Oberwinter, we soon came upon a woody height, where stands the Gothic Church of St. Apollonerasiburg. Here is, or was, the saint's head, and it was formerly a shrine of great resort. Close by is the little tower of Remigen and opposite are basaltic rocky heights of six or eight hundred feet, on the sides of which are vineyards, the vines growing in baskets filled with earth and placed in the crevices of the rocks. No square foot of soil seems to be wasted, and to improve the ground you will find the plots for vines laid out like potato patches, some running this way and others that, making the sides of the hills and banks look very much like basket work. We now came on our left hand to the ruins of Okenfels and the pretty town of Lins. The ruins are very dark and look as if they were past redemption, whereas some of these castles retain fine outlines. The red roofs of the town are in pleasing contrast with the green woods. This town seemed quite a business place, and I noticed several sloops and queer-looking vessels at the piers. On the opposite side the R falls into the Rhine. Just back is a town called Sinzig, and a story tells that here Constantine and Maxentius fought the battle which resulted in the downfall of paganism. Here it was that, the evening previous, Constantine saw in the heavens the figure of a cross with the Greek inscription, but other legends give the battle place on the banks of the Tiber. We were all pleased with the beautiful, modern, casillated building erected out of the ruins of an ancient castle, of which a single venerable tower remains at a small distance. The name is the Castle of Rhinec. It was built for Professor Betham Holweg of Bonn, and he reads his lines in pleasant places. It must have cost much money to rear such an edifice. Nearly opposite are the ruins of Hammerstein Castle, where in 1105 Henry IV founded an asylum. We next came to Andernock. This is an ancient city, and here you see towers and ruins standing amidst a wide amphitheater of basaltic mountains. The place is spoken of by various old historians and under several names. The great trade of the place is in millstones, which find their way even to America. Here is a celebrated Roman arched gate, but the lancet form would indicate a later date. On our left we came to a pleasantly situated town, called Newbead, with some 5,000 inhabitants. The streets lie wide, the houses looked bright, and very much like those in an American town. Here is a Moravian settlement. On our right is a cheerful little place, called Wysentherm, and an ancient tower stands near it. It is said that here the Romans first made the crossing of this river. This was the spot where General Hock passed in 1797, and on a height at this village is a monument to celebrate Hock's achievement. Here we met with an enormous raft, and I assure you, Charlie, it was a sight. We had seen two or three small ones before, but here was a monster. These rafts come from the woods on the tributary rivers—the Moselle, Necker, Maine, etc. These prodigious flotillas are bound to Dordrecht, and are there broken up. This one looked like a town. It had at least twenty-five huts and some of them tolerably large shanties, and I should think there were all of three hundred and fifty persons upon it. On the raft were women, children, cows, pigs, and sheep. This one was thought to be seven hundred feet long and two hundred wide at the least. On our left, as we ascended the river, we now saw Sane and Mulhoffin, just at the point where two small rivers entered the Rhine, and on a hilltop are the ruins of a castle of the Counts of Sane. Farther up is the quiet-looking hamlet of Engers, and we pass the islands of Netterworth and Grosworth. On the former is a ruined convent, founded in 1242, and a population of nearly seven hundred. They seem to have a fine old church. I very much admired the village of Kasselheim, and I think it must be a charming spot. Close by it is the palace of Schoenburgest, where the Bourbon family retreated at the Revolution in the last century. It is now sadly dilapidated. Just as we were looking at Noondorf on our right, we were all called, by a bend in the river, to gaze on the giant rock of Enron Breithstein, bristling to its very summit with fortifications. Oh, how it towers up and smiles or frowns, whichever you please, upon Koblenz, sweetly reposing on the banks of the Rhine and the Moselle. I think the view from the deck of the steamer, up and down the river, and on each side, is the noblest panoramic view that I have seen. Just before us is a bridge of boats, which connects the fortress with Koblenz, and looking up the Moselle is a fine stone bridge. We had our dinner on the deck of the boat, a good arrangement, because we lost none of the scenery. The dinner was about midway between Cologne and Koblenz, and it would have amused you to have noticed the order of the various courses. Soup, boiled fish, raw fish, ducks, roast pork, fowls, pudding, baked fish, roast beef, and mutton. Everything was well cooked, and I never saw people appear more disposed to do justice to a meal. There was not half the hurry and endocrine that you so often see in an American boat. One thing I observed, and that was, that no one used the left hand for the management of his knife. If anything annoys me, it is to see persons carve and eat at a table with this wretched habit. I always imagined that they were so unhappy as to have grown up without father or mother to watch over them. This may be my weakness, but I cannot help it. We went to the Trois Suisse, a fine house on the riverbank, and from our windows are looking by moonlight on the glorious fortress. Yours truly, J-O-C. Dear Charlie, we had no more pleasant day in our excursion than from Cologne to Koblenz. It will be long before I grew tired of the scenery at that fine old place. We walked about in the evening with our New York friends, and, though some parts of Koblenz are very filthy, there are some exquisite plots in it, and all the Vincentage is beautiful. We took a pleasant stroll to the bridge which spans the Blue Moselle with fourteen arches. The city stands on a point of land formed by the two rivers, and hence was known to the Romans by the name of Confluentes. Drusus fortified this place and Aaron Breitstein thirteen years before Christ. Its population is short of twenty thousand, but there are also four thousand five hundred Prussian troops at the fortress. This is one of the strongest military posts in Europe. Its fortifications have been the labor of long years, and the works here, united with those across the river, are deemed impregnable. I believe Aaron Breitstein is called the Gibraltar of Germany. It mounts four hundred cannon, and the magazines will contain provisions for eight thousand men for ten years. The former Electoral Palace is now the government house, and presents a very noble appearance from the river. It is either stone or stuccoed with an iconic portico, and with its wings is five hundred and forty feet front. All around this city the heights are strongly fortified, and look where you may, you see means of defense. We here determined upon an excursion to Stollenfels, which is about four miles from Koblenz, and our party went in two carriages, the family of Mr. B. and one, and ourselves and the other. The ride was very pleasant along the banks of the Rhine, and through orchards and vineyards, the heights towering away over us all the way. We came to the village of Kapellen, which is a poor little hamlet at the base of the lofty mountain, on which stood the noble ruins of Stollenfels Castle, which has been most admirably restored, and is now the summer palace of the king of Prussia. The ascent is very steep, but the road is admirable. Carriages are not allowed to go up, and travelers are supplied with donkeys, of which we found plenty in waiting. Our party all obtained these patient beasts of burden, and I assure you that we made a funny cavalcade. I do think it would have amused you to see ladies, gentlemen, and boys all escorted by ragged urchins mounting the hill. The road has been made in immense expense, and winds along in the most romantic manner, giving you at every turn the finest views and caches of the river, up and down, while the walls are frequently at the edges of precipices, from fifty to two hundred feet over the ravines below. The woods were in all their glory, and I never saw a finer day. On arriving at the castle we rang a bell, and the servant in livery appeared, a fine civil fellow he was. On entering we were all furnished with felt slippers, so that in walking through the apartments we might not injure the polished oak floors. This castle was the residence of Archbishop Werner, who at the close of the fourteenth century was devoted to alchemy. The old tower is an immense affair, and still remains and is likely to remain for ages. The new parts of the palace have all been restored with constant reference to the original architectural style. We wandered from one apartment to another, perhaps going into twenty or thirty apartments, none of which were very large, and many of them quite small and cozy. We saw the bedroom of the king. Everything was plain, and the furniture generally made of oak or black walnut. His study-table had pen and ink and paper-ponent, just as if he had stepped out of the room. The queen's apartments were very elegantly plain, and her oratory is as pretty a little thing as you can imagine. In all these apartments are fine pictures, and one is superbly frescoed with allegory and history. The room in which the Queen of England and Prince Albert lodged in 1845 was shown us, and the state-bed was still in it. The dining-hall was finally ornamented with carvings, old armor, et cetera. But a room devoted to antiquities pleased us the best of all. Here were cups, bottles, and glass goblets of the earliest dates, some as far back as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, which had belonged to the emperors and electors whom I cannot recollect, there were so many. On the walls were the most precious mementos, and here we saw the swords of Marshal Tilley, Napoleon Bonaparte, the one used at Waterloo, Blucher and Marat, and the knife and fork belonging to the brave hofer, the Tyrolis Patriot, who was shot at Mantua. From all the windows of this gem of a palace we had the finest views of the river and could see, from the gateway and platform, co-blends, Aaron Brightstein, and eleven different ruins of castles and convents. Directly in front of us, on a bend of the river, almost making a peninsula, was Launstein and its ruined castle, off to its right, Braubach, and the castle of Marksburg and Martin's Chapel, and on our own side, the pretty village of Rues, where was once the royal seat, and where the electors of the Rhine used to meet, or elect to depose the emperors of Germany. All around the castle of Stolzenfels are the choicest flowers and shrubs, and I wish some of my horticultural friends could have seen the moss, roses, and fuchiers in such luxuriance. We were sorry to leave the place, but the steamboat on the Rhine is as punctual as a North River boat, and we had to resume our donkeys, descend to the carriages, drive briskly, and were just in time to get on board a boat bound to Mayans. In going up the river we saw the palace again to great advantage, and whatever else I forget, this locality I shall keep in memory. I assure you. We again looked at Lahnstein and the ruins of St. John's Church, built in eleven hundred, and saw a curious ferry from the mouth of the Lahn over to Stolzenfels. It is made by five or six boats anchored off, and the ferry boat goes over, wafted by the tide. We then came upon Bopart, an old place but strongly fortified, and having three or four thousand inhabitants. A gentleman on board, who had been there, said it was quite an interesting place. On the opposite, we were delighted with the ruined towers of the brothers, as Sternberg and Liebenstein are called. They occupy the two summits of a rock, every inch of whose sides is sacred to vines, the story of the brothers who lived here you are acquainted with. Our next point of interest was the ruin of Sternberg, or the mouse, while not far above is another called the cat. The view here grows more sublime, and the river grows narrower, and we had a fine prospect of Rheinfels and the town of St. Goer. Rheinfels grows up from the river's edge, and is indeed the rock of the Rhine. The fortifications were immense, and this is the most wonderful ruin on the river. A Confederacy of German and Renish cities broke up this fortress at the close of the thirteenth century, and long afterwards it was made a modern defense. Here the river seems pent up almost, and just above St. Goer there rises from the water a lofty precipice called the Lerly Rock. Nearly opposite a man lives who, when the boat passes, fires a pistol, and a very singular echo follows as we can testify. Not far above are seven rocks seen at low water called the Seven Sisters. The legend says that they were hard-hearted girls, the ladies Schoenberg, who trifled with the affections of nice young men, and so got their desserts by being turned into stones. Still at the right we come to Oberwessel, and we all thought it among the sweetest swats of the river. Salmon are caught in nets here from the rocks. A bend in the river shows us Schoenberg, a fine ruin. This was the family spot whence the Marshal Schoenberg of the Boine originated. Just over the river is the noble Gutenfelds. It was spared by the French and occupied till 1807, but is now ruthless. Cowb, on the left, is the place where Marshal Blutcher crossed the river with his army January 1st, 1814. In the center of the river is a castle called Falz, built about 1320, which was used as a toll-house by the Duke of Nassau. I think it has been used as a state prison. On our right lies Baccarach, with its many towers, and the fine old ruins of Stalic Castle. Off this place is a large rock, the altar of Bacchus, and when the rock is exposed it is thought to be the pledge of a good vintage. The region is celebrated for its wines, and the grapes of the slady rocks have a high musky perfume. A gentleman told me that Baccarach resembles Jerusalem in its aspect. Of course it must be in miniature that the resemblance exists. Here we notice St. Werner's Church, a most superb ruin of floored Gothic. These lancet-arched windows are the admiration of all who pass by. Lorckhausen is a small place, and just away from it are the ruins of the castle of Nolingen. On the other side, or right bank, are the ruins of the old Keep Tower of Fürstenberg, destroyed in 1689. Here we enter on the region where the best rinish wine is produced. The Rheingau, or valley of the river, is divided into upper and lower departments, and from about Lorck, on the left bank, up to Biberich, are the choicest vineyards. On our right lay the ruins of Heimberg, and the restored castle of Sonic. Then comes Old Falkenberg, and near to it is the splendid Gothic Church of St. Clement. All these fortresses were the abodes of wholesale howiemen, and then might be made rich. Most of them became such nuisances that, at the close of the thirteenth century, they were hurled down and their places made desolate. Here, too, is Rheinstein, on the very bank of the river. Its early owner was hanged by the Emperor Rudolph. One of the Prussian princes has fitted up the fortress in magnificent style, and I learned that there is no palace in Europe that can boast of such medieval splendor. Everything that can serve to illustrate the Dark Ages is carefully collected for this charming spot, which seems a rival to Stolzenfels. Just across, on the opposite bank, is Assmannhausen, famous for hot baths and red wine. Here you see Terrace upon Terrace, up to the summits of the hills, and some of these, the guidebooks say, are one thousand or twelve hundred feet. You will often see fifteen or twenty of these terraces supported by brick and stone fences, and the terrace is often not more than six feet wide, and the soil and manure have to be carried up on the shoulders of the vine-dressers. The value of this region arises from its aspect, owing to the bend of the river, which gives this left bank as you ascend a direct exposure to the sun at Mende. The vintage of the Rhine, I am told, is generally gathered in during October and November, but it is put off as late as possible. Grapes were introduced here by the Romans. We now come to Ehrenfels, in its venerable decay, the beautiful Tower of Rosal, and the ruins of Bromzeburg, while on our right are the ruins of Votsburg, and just beyond we come upon Bingen of the Rhine at the mouth of the Nahi, and close by is the celebrated mouse-therm, or mouse-tower, said to have been built by Hadoe, the archbishop of Miens, in the tenth century. Sotheys' fine ballad has immortalized the legend. Never did town present sweeter aspect than Bingen at the foot of a pyramidical hill, which is crowned by the ruined castle of Klopp. In a church here lies Bartholomew of Hulshausen, who prophesied the fatality of the stewards and Charles II's restoration, warning him not to restore potpourri. Bingen has, I think, some five or six thousand inhabitants, and has a great trade in wine, which is collected here from all the vineyards around. Rudesheim lies on the other bank, and its famous wine comes from grapes growing close to Ehrenfels. Next come Geisenheim, also famous for wine, and soon comes the renowned village and vineyard of Johannesburg, or Mountain of St. John. Here the river is wide again, perhaps two thousand five hundred feet, and we begin to see fine meadows. This is where Prince Metternich has his seat, where once was a priory, and various have been its vicissitudes. In eighteen sixteen it was given to Metternich by the Emperor of Austria. The mountain contains only seventy-five acres, and the choicest wine comes only from vines growing near the castle, on the crown of the hill. The wine of the village is very inferior to that of this estate. The place has but few inhabitants, say five or eight hundred. The house is white, and not very castle-like. The grape is called the Rieslinggen. Here we found several islands. Erbach and Hadenheim are both famous for vineyards, and between them grows the famous Marcobrenner, and the Steinberg vineyard, a fortune to the Duke of Nassau, lies upon a slope of the hill close to the convent of Eberlach or Erbach. This convent was founded in eleven thirty-one, but is now a lunatic asylum. The churches here are very fine. Opposite the shore lies Rhine Island, and forms a noble park. Walloff, with few inhabitants, is regarded as the commencement of the Rhine-Gau, or wine district, along which we had coasted. Biberich, on the Duchy of Nassau, now comes upon our view, and the noble chateau of the Duke presents one of the finest mansions on the river. Here some of our passengers left for Frankfurt, and took the rail, but we wished to see Mayenz, and so went in the boat. The city looks finely, and its red towers and steeples make quite a show. This city belongs to the Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt, and is garrisoned by Austrians and Prussians in equal force, generally eight or ten thousand. Exclusive of these, the population is nearly forty thousand. We walked about, and looked at the fine cathedral, which was, sadly, shut up by houses and chanties. It was too late to enter it. You may be sure, Charlie, that we found out the monument to John Gutenberg, the inventor of movable types. It is of bronze, and was designed by Thorwald's son, and stands in front of the theatre, once a university. After perambulating the town till weary, we came to the bridge of boats, sixteen hundred and sixty-six feet long, and which connects Mayenz with Castle, a strong fortified place where the railroad depot is located. At this bridge are several boat mills, or tide mills, where grain is ground by the tidal action. They look strangely, but work well. On the bridge we met many Austrian officers in rich uniforms, most of them young, and I thought very aristocratical in their bearing. Our dinner on board the boat was as profuse as the day before, and I must not forget to tell you that we had an English lordling, son of a former premier, on board, with his lady, on their matrimonial tour. He was the worst-mannered young man that I have seen in Europe, and when he had ogled the company sufficiently with his glass, and manifested his contempt pretty plainly, he and his betook themselves to the interior of his carriage. He was quite young, and may grow better behaved. We took the cars at dark, and after riding twenty-two miles found ourselves at Frankfurt, having passed through Hochheim, where the vineyards are so costly that their railroad company had to pay well for the passageway. Here we put up at the Hotel Angleterre. Forgive this long letter, but I could not well shorten it, and I want you to know just what we saw. Always yours, James. End of letter forty-one. Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter forty-two of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter forty-two. Dear Charlie. James's long letter gave you a pretty correct view of our passage from Koblenz to Frankfurt. You will recollect that we went up the Rhine, which gave us more time to look about, but I fancy that in going downstream the shores would show to better advantage if possible than in the ascent. From Koblenz to Mainz, the river is narrower than before, and every rock more precipitous than its neighbor has a castle. How some of these towers were built or could be got at seems a mystery. I have no idea of the number of these robbers' nests for such they were. Much as I love the Hudson, yet I cannot help saying that the Rhine is the river of the world so far as I have seen the watery highways. Frankfurt is one of the free towns of Germany and lies on the Main. It has about sixty-five thousand inhabitants of whom seven thousand are Jews. I like the city much and think a residence here would be very agreeable. Some of the modern streets are very handsome and the dwellings are fine. The old part of the town is old enough. At our hotel we found a sentinel on guard in honor of an Austrian general staying at the house. The house is a capital one, like all the other great hotels we have yet seen on the continent. We all went to see the Romer, or town hall, which was built about fourteen twenty-five, and which is quite famous for its historical associations. Here the German emperors were formerly elected and inaugurated. We saw the Great Hall where they were entertained and had crowned heads for waders. Here on its walls are all the portraits of the series of emperors from Conrad I to Francis II, and each emperor has his motto underneath. Some of these are quaint enough. Directly in front of this building is the Romerberg, or marketplace, in which the carousing incident to coronation used to occur, and it is large enough to accommodate a vast assembly. We rode along the banks of the river to see a pretty little palace belonging to Duke somebody and especially to see the grounds and hot-houses. They were exquisitely beautiful. As we were here upon a holiday of the church, the museum was closed and we lost the sight of some good pictures. We were much pleased with a visit to the garden of Mr. Bethman, a banker where we saw a pretty little collection of statuary, the gem of which is Danaker's statue of Ariadne. The building in which these are placed is neat. We, of course, went to see No. 74 in the Hirschgraben, where Goethe was born, in 1749. In the corner-house of the Domplatz, Luther once dwelt. We rode through the Jews' quarters, and of all the wretched-looking streets, I think the worst and filthiest is that in which Baron Rothschild was born. As we passed to Sabbath here, we attended the English Episcopal Church, a neat building. The service was well read by the chaplain and an excellent sermon was preached by a stranger. After service I spoke to the chaplain who was quite anxious to hear about the prospects of potpourri in America. He seemed to have very just views of the system and anxiously deprecated its influence in our country. We visited many shops and found the richest collection of curiosities and antiques. Here we met with several American friends upon their tour, and at Frankfurt we took leave of our New York friends whose kindness and agreeable company we had been favored with for a few days. We took the rail for Heidelberg on our way to Strausberg. The whole of the first few miles was through very flat-looking country, and our interest was not called out till we came to Darmstadt, a fine town with 30,000 inhabitants. We saw a tall column but could not find out its historical allusion. This is the capital of the Grand Duchy of Hesse, Darmstadt. In passing through Oldenwald we saw attractive woody country, and off to our left we were quite sure that the scenery must be very beautiful. The hills in the distance form the boundary on the eastern part of the valley of the Rhine, and the mountain ranges are richly covered with vineyards and castles all the way, parallel with the railroad. This beautiful region is called the Bergstrasse, and I am sure a week or two on these hills would amply repay the pedestrian. It is in these wild regions of romance that the castle of Rodenstein is found, some 10 miles from Ehrbach, and not far from it, Kassel Schnellert, where the wild Jäger is supposed to live, who haunts the forests and gives spectral forewarnings of battles. Off to our left there was a constantly shifting panoramic view of hilltops and ruins. Heidelberg is sweetly situated on the bank of the Neckar, a beautiful river and one that I longed to trace by its course through Wooden Hill. This town is famous for its university and castle. It has about 750 students. We could only see the castle and admire its exterior. The college was founded in 1386 and is very distinguished as a law school. The library is very large and excellent. The barbarian, Tilly, is said to have provided litter for his cavalry from books and manuscripts out of this then-magnificent collection. The ruin of this glorious old castle dates from 1764 when it was burnt by lightning. It is built of red stone. If I live, I hope to visit this place again and make a thorough exploration of this stupendous ruin. It is here, in a cellar, that the largest wine-butt in the world is found, and it will contain 800 hogsheads. It has been long empty, however. I never longed to follow a river more than I do this same Neckar. It is so clear, and all my glimpses of it have been so filled up with quiet beauty and wild scenery. We saw Hill near the town, which affords the finest view, we are told, in Germany, and even takes in Strasbourg Cathedral Spire, which is quite ninety miles off. From Heidelberg we again took the cars for Kell about four miles from Strasbourg, a distance of nearly ninety miles. The first-class cars are very luxurious and reasonable, second-class, excellent, and very genteel-looking persons using them. Lord Cowley, father of Lady Bulwer, wife of the minister from England at Washington, was in the cars with us, and two of his children, one a beautiful little girl. They were going to Baden and were accompanied by a governess. We found no more of the extraordinary beauty that had made our morning ride so charming. Bruschel seemed a dull place, as seen from the station, and Durlach had not much greater attractions. Karlsruhe is quite a place, has some repute for its baths, and is the capital of the grand duchy of Baden. Off to the south of this town we saw the skirts of the black forest. All around we saw fine growth of poplars. Passing Etelingen and Muergensturm we came to Rostad, rather a pretty station, and the town is fortified. At Oce our passengers for Baden took a branch train, which after three miles' ride brought them into the famous Baden-Baden. We reached Kelle, which is a mere village on the Rhine, but has seen enough of war. Here we took an omnibus and started for Strasbourg, distant some four miles. When we reached the French custom-house over the river we had quite a searching time, even a flask of cologne was taxed some twenty cents. We were weary enough and glad to get into quarters, which we established at the Ville du Parquis, a very superior house with excellent rooms and elegant furniture, while the cookery was perfect. Tomorrow we will have enough to see and do. Tonight we shall retire early, but go where we may, we shall furnish you with the promised account of our wanderings. Yours affectionately, J-O-C. End of Letter 42 Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter 43 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 43 Dear Charlie Long before we entered this city, we obtained a fine view of its great glory, the Cathedral Spire. What an object! It does seem, it does not seem, as if hammer and chisel had anything to do here. I can almost fancy that this Spire was thought out and elaborated by mere intellect. It would be long ere I grew weary of looking at this wondrous work of man. The more you examine this edifice, the more you are impressed with its magnificence. Let me tell you about this same minster, as it is called. The Spire is 474 feet high, 140 feet higher than St. Paul's, and 24 feet higher than the pyramids of Egypt. The architect was Erwin of Steinbach, and his plans survived him. He died in 1318, when the work was carried on by his son. The tower was not finished till 425 years in the commencement of the building, and then Holtz, from Cologne, came to affect the undertaking. The tracery of this lofty pinnacle is inmititably beautiful. We ascended the Spire, and I can assure you that the prospect amply replaced the treble. We saw the winding, silvery rind, the black forest, and the long line of the Vosges Mountains. I never felt more keenly my inability to describe a place than when I walked through this gorgeous sanctuary. We must see it to form an adequate idea of its grandeur. The nave was begun in 1015 and completed in 1275. The choir is yet older and is thought to belong to the times of Charlemagne. The large rose window over the front entrance is thought to be the finest specimen of stained glass now existing. The stone pulpit of 1486 is the grandest we have yet seen, and in better taste than some of the carved wood pulpits in Belgium. The columns are very massive. One of the chief attractions in this church is the mechanical clock, which occupies a large space at the left hand as you enter the building. The true time to see it is at twelve o'clock. When death strikes the hour, the apostles all pass before you, a large cock up above flaps his wings and crows admirably three times, flags are waved and the affair ends. Here, close by, is the architect of the church of St. John's Evans, Effigy in stone. We next went to St. Thomas's church to see the superb tomb of Marshall Saxa, which is a work of great merit. In a vault we saw the remains of a count of Nassau and his daughter who had been coffined down for, I forget how long, but I think more than two centuries. It was here that Gutenberg began his experiments in printing, which he perfected at Mayence. We made some purchases here and also cheap. General Claiborce Tomb and Monument are in the Place d'Armes. Of course we did not visit Strausburg and forget that it furnishes pâtés de foie gras. We obtained some good engravings of the churches and other points of interest, and on a fine afternoon took the railroad for Basel. Yours affectionately, George. End of Letter 43 Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org Letter 44 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 44 Basel Dear Charlie, we took the cars from Strausburg in the afternoon for this place. We drove 26 miles, and owing to some 20 way stations we were nearly five hours on the rail. But the beauty of the scenery reconciled us to the prolongation of the time usually spent on such a journey. The general route was over a flat country with sundry bridges over small streams. But off to our right we were close to the Vosges Mountains which kept us company nearly every mile of the journey. I suppose you know that Strausburg is very strongly fortified. We saw its works to great advantage when leaving the city by the train. We were much assisted in our knowledge of places on the mountains by a fine panoramic volume of engravings which we bought at Strausburg and which really gives a capital idea of the entire scene of travel. I will just name the principal places that we passed by and through that you may trace on the map and read about them, for some are important towns. St. Erstein is a place Benfield is very pretty indeed and close by is a fine looking town with a fine situation. We saw a noble spire off to our left. Shellstod has 10,000 inhabitants and is fortified. From its chimneys we supposed it must be a manufacturing place. The view of the Vosges here is very imposing. They are generally with rolling summits and upon some eminence jutting out stands a castle. Strausburg is the largest castle of the range and it was destroyed during the Thirty Years' War in 1633. Here we saw fine vineyards. Kolmar looks a very prosperous place. Its manufactories make quite a show and all around we saw well built cotton factories and the entire spot had a road island look. Dr. C. turned our attention to the village of Terheim about three miles off in 1675. Egnishheim and its three-towered castle is a small affair. Bolviler is a perfect vineyard all around and the wines of this region are excellent. Nothing hardly seems to be cultivated but the vine. Opposite to this place is the loftiest of the Vosges and my panorama makes it 4,700 feet above the sea. Mühlhausen is a very active, busy looking town with a population of nearly 30,000. Here the fine cotton prints of France are fabricated. Much of the property is owned at Basel we were afterwards told. This place has to obtain its cotton from Havre and Marseille and even Kohl has to come from a distance. It was dark when we took an omnibus at the Terminus and after riding over an old bridge we were very soon established at a princely hotel known as the Trois-Oix. This house is on the banks of the Rhine and its windows command the Rhine view. The historical reminiscences of Basel are interesting and its position very commanding. Here the Rhine is bounded by the hills of the Black Forest and the Jura Range. Next morning we took a stroll to see the lay of the land and we found ourselves on a terrace overlooking the Rhine and forming a part of the cathedral ground. Oh, it was glorious to look at, Charlie. There stretched away on the other side were the hills of the Black Forest where we have so often poured over. This terrace is finally wooded with linden and chestnut trees. We walked back to town and called upon our council Mr. Burkhart and found him very kind and friendly. He gave himself up to us for the entire day and became our guide to all the objects of interest. He dined with us and then we all went to his charming country house about one and a half miles from town and took tea with his family. Our first object was the cathedral. This is a red sandstone church with two steeples and was consecrated in 1019. The crypt, no doubt, is as ancient as this state. Here is the tomb of the Empress, wife of Rudolph of Hapsburg. Here, too, we saw the tomb of Erasmus who died in 1536. In the cloisters, which are very noble, are the monuments of Eoclampides, Granaus, and Meyer, the reformers. The church is Protestant. It is plain but venerable. In the chapter house which we visited was held the Council of Basil which lasted from 1436 to 1444. The room is just as it then appeared and the very cushions on the seats are still preserved. Our next visit was to the Holbein Gallery where the largest collection of paintings by this master is to be seen. Here we saw the fragments of the Dance of Death that were later dated than Holbein's day. I liked his portraits better than his other pieces. One sketch of Sir Thomas More's family is very fine. We also saw the library and a large collection of Roman antiquities. The portraits are very fine at the library and we saw those of Euler and Bernoulli, the mathematicians. At the university we saw the building and received polite attentions from the librarian and Latin professor. We also saw the professor of chemistry renowned for his discovery of gun-cotton. The collection of manuscripts is very large and rich and we had the gratification to have in our hands the handwriting of several letters by Melanchthon, Calvin, Luther, Erasmus, etc. I think this is a good place to live in for purposes of study. At Basil there is a large missionary seminary and a great many of the best missionaries in India and Africa were educated here. We also visited the private reading room of a club and found a very good library there. On the table were several American papers The New York Herald, Express and the Boston Mercantile Journal. After dinner we took a carriage and repaired to St. Jacob a quiet village about one mile from Basil. Here we found a neat little church and at the junction of two roads a gothic cross to commemorate the famous battle of St. Jacob in 1444 when 1600 Swiss fought the French army under the Dauphin for a whole day. The French were over 16,000 strong. Only ten Swiss escaped the slaughter. Lest you should think me at fault upon the numbers in this battle I would say that I know Watville calls the Swiss 1200 and the French 30,000 but I quote from Swiss historians who are deemed good authority. We went into the little tavern and drank some red wine which goes by the name of Swiss blood. We then ascended an eminence demanding a fine view of the city, the river and the Euromountains. At the summit we found a church and the parsonage next to it looked very cozy and comfortable. The pastor's children were running about and were very noble looking boys. We learned that while the stipend of the pastor was very small as is the case in Switzerland yet he was a man of wealth. We were quite amused with the market day here. Droves of country people were in the street. The women in country costume and on the ground there were vast collections of crockery which seemed one of the chief articles of traffic. A charming drive late in the afternoon took us to the consul's hospitable abode and there with his lady we had a thoroughly Yankee tea time. In the evening we walked back to the city crossing the old bridge. Yours affectionately, Weld. End of Letter 44 read by Cibela Neton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org Letter 45 of Young Americans Abroad or Vacation in Europe travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland edited by J.O. Choules read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 45 Luzon Dear Charlie we left Basil on a bright morning at six o'clock having places in the coupe with a village for Bern a distance of 76 miles. We took this route in order to enjoy the remarkable scenery which marks the Moutier Valley which is the most romantic in the Euromountain range. This journey entirely takes the palm for enjoyment of any an hour tour and I think I am more surprised and gratified than I was on the Rhine. Certainly the prospect was more constantly grand and inspiring. We started with six horses, jogged on at about six miles per hour over as good roads as I ever traveled. They are also the cleanest you ever saw. All along at intervals we saw men with badges in their hats who appeared to have charge of the highway. Everything on the road is scraped up and at every quarter of a mile more or less there is at the wayside an enclosure for manure into which everything is turned. On all the line of travel in Switzerland we were struck with the careful way protected by large bands of corded hay twisted around. Then, too, in the villages and towns we were all interested with the enormous stone troughs for watering cattle. Some of these appeared to me full twenty feet long and two or three feet deep. On our way from Basel we passed the battleground of St. Jacob and some way farther on we saw the battlefield of Dornock at which place the Swiss obtained a victory over the Austrians in 1499. A little before reaching Tavon we ascended a hill and came to a wonderful archway across the road perhaps natural. On it is a Roman inscription the arch is, I should think, nearly fifty feet high and fifteen in depth. We then went on to Bien and a pretty looking place it is we left it on our right and our road was very hilly, really mountainous and the air was sharp. As we walked for two or three miles to help the horses we found the wild strawberries offered for sale very pleasant. We reached Byrne late in the evening and the entrance to the town through a noble avenue of trees called the Enga was very pleasant. We repaired to the Facon and enjoyed the repose of a long night. Byrne is a large town with a population of nearly thirty thousand. It lies on the banks of the R which goes almost round the city. The great elevation of the city seventeen hundred feet above the sea gives it quite an appearance approaching it. Then the houses are all built upon arched pathways and they form arcades very much like the old city of Chester in England. We noticed several watchtowers evidently very ancient and one in the town near our hotel has a queer clock which like that at Strasbourg is mechanical. On striking out comes a cock and flaps away with his wings and then little images appear and bears pass by a puppet seated on a throne. We see the guardian angels of this place and are the arms of the town. We were very much pleased with an extensive prospect of the Byrne's Alps from a terrace overhanging the rapid river. I cannot tell you how many peaks we saw covered with snow. Our panorama purchased here enumerates more than a dozen and among these are the Wetterhorn Stockhorn and Jungfrau. We greatly enjoyed a fine sunset from this spot. The cathedral is a noble structure built about 1421 and 1573 and from designs by the son of the architect of the cathedral at Strasbourg. Some of the work here is exceedingly fine. The great entrance is very imposing and has rich sculptures. Here too are some beautifully painted windows one describing the pope grinding the four evangelists in a mill out of which comes wafers is very curious. The organ is very fine and the case one of the richest in Europe. It has four rows of keys and 66 stops. The font is of black granite and has the date of 1525 which is three years previous to the church reformation in this canton. It has some finely sculptured images of the Trinity, Virgin Mary and St. Vincent, the patron saint of the church. We were pointed out the communion table of marble which is an immense block and before the reformation it was an altar at Lusanne. There are some fine monuments having great antiquity. In the choir we were delighted with the old prebendal stalls over which were figures of Christ and his apostles and on the opposite side prophets all in carved wood. One of the prophets was a capital likeness of Luther. As we were leaving this noble edifice we met a minister coming in. He wore a short black gown and had a deep white rough on his shoulders. The library of the town embraces about 45,000 volumes and well assorted, too. What a reproach it is to us that accepting in Providence hardly any small city has what can be called a library. The museum we could not examine. I spoke of bears. Well, the town keeps several of these fellows at a place called the Beringraben. Much did we long to take a trip into the Bernese Oberland but it was not practicable so we started for Lusanne by diligence a distance of 56 miles and were eleven hours on the way. We saw much fine scenery but nothing that would compare with the Munsterthal or Valley of Moutiers and which I think would pay any lover of nature to come from America to look at and travel through. The places we went through were Marat famous for its battle in 1476 Avanche the Roman Aventicum Payern, etc. The last few miles were of great labor and as it was pitch dark for some miles I cannot tell much about what is said to be beautiful. At Lusanne we went to the Hotel Gibbon and a lovelier spot than the rear of this mansion I never rested upon. Again we were weary and found good beds very inviting. Yours, etc. James. End of Letter 45 Read by Cibela Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org Letter 46 Of Young Americans Abroad Or Vacation in Europe Travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland Edited by J.O. Choules Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 46 Lusanne and Geneva Dear Charlie We are staying in one of the most romantic and beautiful spots that I ever had the pleasure to visit. The town stands on a mount, and descends gradually to the lake. On every side are most precipitous ravines, and the streets are the most breakneck-looking highways I ever saw. Putnam sleep would be thought nothing of at Lusanne. Our hotel overlooks Gibbon's garden, and we saw his trees and seat. Here he composed his own music, and his own music. The town stands on a mount, and descends gradually to the lake. And here he composed his eloquent work on the Roman Empire. His portrait is in the hotel dining room. The prospect surpasses in richness all that I had fancied. Before us lie the Alps with snowy tops. Between us and these is the glassy lake, and on its waters we note a surrogata. The boats all adorned with flags and the crews with ribbons. There are, I should think, from fifty to seventy-five boats in sight. Up in the Alps there is a fire and the volume of smoke and a flashing of flame form a fine addition to the scene. The high temperature of the climate is very favourable to health, and now in June it reminds us of our finest clear days at Newport. On Sabbath morning we repaired to a charming little Episcopal church near the lake, and the walk of a mile downhill was delightful. On both sides of the road were fine villas, and on the left one estate had its long wall defended by a hedge of roses and loom. Such a hedge is rarely to be witnessed. We heard a prosy sermon from the old gentleman who has officiated there for some years. I noticed a lady and four sweet girls who sat in the pew next to us and was convinced that she was an English lady, and when we overtook her ascending the hill on our return I took the liberty to ask a question about the church. She very politely gave me the information and a conversation commenced. She told me as a stranger what I ought to see, and when we were leaving her she politely offered us an invitation to join her family in the evening, to take a walk to the mountain overhanging Luzon, known as the signal, and from whence in olden time the watch fire used to be kindled when the cantons were called to arm for liberty or danger was expected. This kindness we accepted, and when she gave me her address I found I had to call at the hotel de Ville. Well, at half-past six years an eye repaired to the mansion a very venerable pile, and we found that our kind friend was no less a personage than the wife of the syndic, or mayor of the city. We were most kindly received and introduced to his honor a fine looking, elderly gentleman who spoke no English, but his family conversed generally in our language. We sallied forth and took a walk up, up, up. Never will the boys forget that tramp. Indeed, Charlie, it was hard to go through, but after the assent was achieved, the recompense was ample. Such a survey of lake, shore, alps, city, villages, vineyards cannot be enjoyed elsewhere. It was very cold in these upper regions, and as we descended the shades of night rove over us, and a beautiful moon made its appearance. When parting from our friends, they urged our joining them at seven o'clock to visit the cathedral with the boys, but the boys were frightened at the thought of another assent, for the minster is perched upon a cliff and you ascend some hundreds of steps to reach the platform. At seven we were on hand, and with the syndic and his sweet little girl we visited the finest Gothic pile in Switzerland, which was built in twelve seventy-five and consecrated by Gregory the Tenth. The form is that of the Latin cross. Formerly it had two towers, but one was destroyed here are several fine monuments and tombs of interest, one an effigy and male armor of Otto of Grandison, and another of Pope Felix the Fifth, who resigned the papacy and became a monk, and a very beautiful one to the wife of Stratford Canning, the figures of which are eight in number, and two of them are by Canova, also the tomb of Bernard de Menthal, founder of the St. Bernard Hospice. We returned to the hotel de Ville with Madame Gadot, for whom and her kind family wish a long cherished, grateful recollections. From Lausanne we took boat for Vevet. The port of Lausanne is the little village of Ushie. I ought to tell you that John Philip Kemble, the great Tragedian, is buried two miles from this place. We found the excursion on the lake very agreeable, and passed many pretty villages on the left shore, till we came to Vevet, a sweet little town of inhabitants, and is emboured in vineyards. It is about one mile and a quarter from the foot of the Alps. Here we had a view of the castle of Chillon, and Byron was on our tongues at once. My great object in coming here was to see St. Martin's church, for here are buried Ludlow, the Regicide and Broughton, who read the sentence of Charles I. Charles II could never get the Swiss to deliver these patriots to the Alps. In June we took another boat, and went to Geneva in about five hours, and stopped at Ushie, Morge, Role, Niant, and Copay. At Morge is a fine old castle in good condition. Nearly opposite Role we saw the hoary head of Mount Blanc, towering above the giant brotherhood of Alpine heights. We did not see Lake Le Mans in a storm, and though certainly beautiful in its adjuncts, not stale. We reached Geneva in the evening at seven and went to the Hotel Loh. Here we were delighted to meet again with the Reverend Dr. Murray and Dr. Chetwood, and also to find the Reverend Mr. Chickering and Reverend Mr. Jacobus with his family and other valued friends. The approach to Geneva from the lake is very imposing, but I was less pleased with the town itself than I expected to be. Its position is very grand. Its history is the Cathedral Church of St. Peter is a fine specimen of the Gothic of the 11th century. The sounding board is the same under which Calvin preached. The population is about forty thousand, including the suburbs, and thousands of tourists are every year residents for a few days. We had a pleasant morning at the museum, where are some good pictures and many curiosities. In the library are Calvin's letters in manuscript, forty or fifty volumes of manuscript sermons, the same Calvin and this old town of Geneva have had more to do with our own blessed country, and we feel the agency of this man and this town in all our ten thousand joys and comforts. I could not forget that here was the home of Merle Dombigny, the historian of the Protestant Reformation, and that here, too, is the residence of the learned Gossin, the author of The Opnesty and of the venerable César Malan. Calling upon him delighted to find that the Evangelical Association of Geneva was in annual session. This is the great Protestant body with which the American Evangelical Union is in alliance, and for whose operations our friend Dr. Baird has awakened so lively an interest. I went to the church where the meeting was convened and was introduced to Count Georges, a very pious Frenchman of fortune, who resides here and devotes himself to the cause He is a Baptist, but is connected with the church which embraces several Evangelical denominations. The Count presided with great ability. He is a very elegant man about thirty-four, I should imagine. I had the pleasure to hear Dombigny give a report of his visit to Great Britain. He spoke for two hours. He is quite the orator and had entire command of the audience who wept and laughed as he proceeded. The historian is a very noticeable man and strongly reminded us all of President Wayland to whom his resemblance is very striking. Dr. Murray made a few remarks on behalf of his brethren and we were all invited to a soire at the assembly rooms in the evening. Perhaps two hundred and fifty ladies and gentlemen were present. Several addresses and prayers were made. I was announced for an address but came late on the list and having no fancy to be translated by a man at my elbow I quietly drew at the fitting time. I was much pleased with Professor Gossin, who is a very accomplished gentleman. He looks about forty-five but told me he was very much older. The clergy present at this convocation were from various parts of France and all the Swiss cantons and I never saw a finer set of men in any clerical assembly. Pastor Milan is exceedingly venerable in his appearance. He is about sixty-eight years of age, born long in the neck, with a good deal of curl to it. His gait is quick and he has much the manner of the venerable Dr. Beecher. This patriarch of Geneva is very cheerful, knows everyone and has a word for everyone. He told me that he loved Americans but that they had spoiled his habitation by stealing two of his daughters, who, he explained to me, were married to excellent clergymen in the United States. We met with great kindness in this city from Mr. Delorm, who once resided in New York. He invited us to accompany his family to an excursion on the summit of the Soleuve, a mountain in Savoy which is three thousand one hundred and fifty feet above the lake. We went in two carriages and stopped at a village on the mountainside where we had cakes, coffee, and wine. Here, in a sweet little arbor surrounded with roses, we gazed at Mont Blanc and on a near summit could very clearly trace the profile of Napoleon. It looks like a warrior taking his sleep. The illusion surpasses an accuracy of expression, anything that I know of that is similar. There our chin, nose, eye, and the old cock-tat while the eternal vapor over the summit of the peak forms the feather. We looked down in a ravine and saw the air with its icy stream. The carriages went round to meet the party and the ascent was made. The mountain seems to hang over Geneva, though several miles away. We were greatly pleased with a few good houses in fine proportions, but Savoy is not Switzerland. Here, popery is rampant and populism evident. Beggars beset our carriages and the people looked squalid. I forgot to tell you how much we were pleased with the cottages in Switzerland. They are quite cheerful looking, some very fine affairs, but many are not very unlike our western log houses. We returned to Geneva at about ten and found at our friend's house a most sumptuous repast provided for our entertainment. I never sat down at a more elegant supper table. Every luxury seemed to place before us, including the richest wines of the Rhine. The Roman salad, a peculiar kind of lettuce which we saw in France and here again, seemed to us all as quite different from our ordinary kinds, and I have at Geneva obtained four or five varieties of the seed for home cultivation. While at this city we procured some good specimens of woodenware, Swiss cottages, etc., and the boys bought watches, jewelry, etc., for presents. We were all delighted with a little island in the center of a bridge which goes across the lake. It was a favorite retreat of Rousseau and there is a statue to his memory. Calvin's residence is still to be seen, number 116 Rue des Channons. We saw the place where Servitus was burnt. The place and prospect were too beautiful for such a foul desecration. But Calvin's virtues were his own and the faults he fell into belonged to the influence of the age. It was much so with those greatest and best of men, the New England Pilgrim Fathers. I know they had faults, but they were only spots upon the polished mirror. God reared them up, a rare race of men for a rare purpose, and I do not like to hear them abused because they were not perfect. If Lod had come to Plymouth Rock instead of Brewster, Bonner instead of Carver, what kind of community would have been established and handed down? In Geneva, too, we had the pleasure to meet a valued friend, Mr. B. from Providence, who has been traveling extensively and gathering up the treasures of other cities to enrich the one of his birth. Tomorrow we are off for Paris and go by diligence to Dijon, then spy railroad. Yours, affectionately, formed Geneva on the diligence for Dijon, a long drag of one hundred and twenty miles. The weather was oppressively hot and certainly the roads could not well be more dusty. We had two very gentlemanly companions, Swiss, who were going to London to visit the exhibition. We entered France about four miles on our way and came to Furny, where Voltaire so long resided. We passed Gex and ascended the Eura, and then to Lovaté. The view from the mountain of the lake and Mont Blanc, together with the Alpine range, is never to be forgotten by one who has the good fortune to see it. I feel that I am acquiring new emotions and gathering up new sources of thought in this journey, and that I cannot be a trifler and waster a way of life in such a world as I live in. I find in every place so much to read about and study over and think upon that I now feel as if life itself would not be long enough to do all I should to effect. One thing is certain, Charlie, I cannot be indolent without feeling that, with the motives and stimulus of this tour pressing upon me, I shall be very guilty. The scenery of this journey has set me thinking, and so I have written rather sentimentally, but truly. At Saint Laurent we came to the French customs house and a pretty thoroughly overhauling they made. I believe the fellows hooked some of our engravings, which they carried out of the room. Still up till we reached Moretz, the Euro's great elevation. The last half was traveled in the night so I cannot give you the line of March. We got to Dijon about eight in the morning and only had time to get a hasty breakfast at the railroad station, but we had quite a look at the city before entering the cars for Paris. Dijon is the capital town of the old Burgundy and is a fine old place with nearly thirty thousand inhabitants. Here is a great show of churches and they seem built for all ages. The cathedral is a noble-looking edifice. We had no time to see the old Ducal Palace which has so many historical events connected with it. We saw some beautiful promenades but only glanced at them. Boussette was born here and Saint Bernard only a mile outside of the walls in a castle yet standing. The new railroad had just been opened to Paris and is one hundred and ninety-six miles and a half of the most capital track. We went through Vary, Montbard, Nuit, Tonnerre, La Roche, Jogni, Seine, Monterreau, Fontainebleau, Mélan, to Paris. Montbard gave birth to Buffon, the naturalist. Nuit is famous for the vintage of its own name, Romonnais and other choice wines of Burgundy. Near Tonnerre is the château of Coligny d'Adelot, brother to the Admiral Massacre Hermes Knight. Seine is famous for its cathedral which is apparently very splendid and here are the vestments of Thomas Becket and the very altar at which he knelt, all of which I wanted to see. Fontainebleau is a beautifully placed in the middle of a forest. Here is a palace and at this place Napoleon bade farewell to the old guard in eighteen fourteen. This place is celebrated for its grapes raised in the vicinity. This is the palace of the Caesar's time and in twelve twenty was taken by Henry the Fifth of England and held ten years. We reached Paris on the evening of Saturday and again occupied our old quarters at the hotel Windsor. I went off to my favorite bathing-house at the Seine and felt wonderfully refreshed after the heat and dust of more than three hundred miles and two days journeying. Yours, affectionately, are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org Letter forty-eight of Young Americans Abroad or Vacation in Europe travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland edited by J. O. Choules read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter forty-eight, Paris Dear Charlie we have again arrived at this charming city and hope to pass on to you in a few days which will be chiefly devoted to purchases of clothing and some of the beautiful articles which are so abundant in the shops of this metropolis. Besides we have some few places to visit before we return to England. On Sabbath day we went to the Methodist chapel near the church of the Madeleine and heard a capital sermon from Dr. Richie, the President of the Canadian Conference. In the evening I greeted the very gentlemanly and pleasant man. In the congregation I had the pleasure to meet with our eloquent countrymen and my old friend the Reverend James Alexander, D.D. of New York and I announced that he would preach on Wednesday evening. We went into the Madeleine and spent nearly an hour. The house is very splendid but it does not appear devotional or likely to inspire suitable feelings. I prefer the Gothic pile or a planar temple. Here Popory shows her hand and outdoes everything that she dares yet show in New England. The music was exquisite and the voices of the boys very sweet. Many of the people seemed in earnest. The priests appeared to me devoid of interest. We went one morning to the Pantheon. This noble church was formerly known as St. Genevieve and was rebuilt in 1764 by a lottery under the auspices of Louis XV. The portico is an imitation of the one at Rome on its namesake and consists of Corinthian columns nearly sixty feet high and five feet in diameter. The interior form is that of a Greek cross. Everything here is grand and majestically simple. Above the center of the cross rises a dome of great beauty with a lantern above. In this building are 130 columns. The church is 302 feet by 255. In this building are the tombs and monuments of some great men of France. Voltaire, Rousseau, Mirabeau, and Marat were here buried, but were taken up by the Bourbons at the restoration. La Grange and L'En also rest here. Here we saw seven copies of the famous frescoes of Angelo and Raphael in the Vatican and several pieces of statuary. The vaults extend beneath the church to a great length. I believe this is the highest spot on leaving the place I looked again at the dome which greatly pleased me. It is 300 feet above the floor of the church and the painting by Gros is very fine. I think we have seen nothing of the kind that is so beautiful. It is principally historical and among the figures are Clovis, Clotilda, Charlemagne, Saint-Louis, Louis XVIII, and the Duchess D'Angelo, with the infant Duke of Bordeaux, and above all these as in heaven are Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, Louis XVII, and Madame Elisabeth. We are all thankful enough to find that the Louvre is at last open. We walked there, looked with interest at the Tuileries, which I cannot help admiring, although some think it devoid of architectural merit. Its widespread pavilions of 1,000 feet, looming up with time-darkened walls always pleased me. The Palace of the Louvre is an older edifice than the Louvre. The newer portion was the work of the reign of Louis XIV. The quadrangle is very fine, and the proportions of the entire building admirable. Our business was with that part called the Musée Royal, and here are the paintings and statues which have given such a renown to Paris. You must recollect, my dear fellow, that we cannot tell you all about these pictures for the gallery is nearly one-third of a mile in length, and each side is filled up with canvas items are lofty. There was a time when almost all that continental Europe thought exquisite in art was to be found here. Bonaparte levied contributions on all the capitals he conquered, and here he deposited his ill-gotten spoils. Once were seen in this place the great masterpieces of Raphael, Guido, Titian, Domenicino, Murillo, Rubens, Rembrandt, Potter, and a host of other artists who created beauty. But when right over the night, these pictures were returned to their original owners. The catalogue we bought was a volume of five hundred pages and was only of statuary, and what could we do but walk, wonder, and admire? To examine would be a task and pleasure for three months. The department of statuary is very large, and here we saw surprising fragments of the Grecian and Roman schools. The paintings by Rubens here are numerous, but by no means as well as in the museums of Holland. All the great masters are here and their works are finally arranged. We saw some of Claude Noran's that were beautiful and some pictures that I missed since I was here in 1836 have been transferred, I learned, by Louis Philippe to Versailles and other palaces. The gallery has been thoroughly painted and beautified, and I never saw a place more radiant with gilding and frescoes. The ceilings are very gorgeous. Today for an excursion to Versailles and that we might have our pleasure consulted us to sight-seeing, we prefer to private carriage to the railroad. Versailles is about twelve miles from Paris and has some twenty-five or thirty-thousand inhabitants. Henry IV used to resort here for hunting. Louis XIII had a lodge here for his comfort when following the chase. Louis XIV turned the lodge into a palace and began operations in 1664. In 1681 he removed with his court to this place. The chapel was begun in 1699 and finished in 1710. The theater was inaugurated at the marriage of Louis XVI in 1770. A new wing was built by Louis XVIII. Louis Philippe made great additions and devoted the palace to the noble purpose of a national depot of all that is glorious in the history of France. What Louis Philippe did here you may imagine when I tell you that on the improvement of Versailles he expended fifteen millions of Franks. Why, Charlie, the staples are like mansions and fine ones, too. The grand court is three hundred and eighty feet wide and the plus-dome, which leads to it, is eight hundred feet wide. The iron railings which divide these are very richly gilt. On either side the court are ranges of buildings intended for the ministers of the king and here are sixteen colossal equestrians, which I well remember at the Pont de la Concorde in Paris. They are great names of old and modern renown. In the center of the court is a colossal equestrian statue of Louis XIV. Now comes another court devoted to royalty and north and south are wings and pavilions, one built by Louis XV and the other by Louis Philippe. Next we see the Cour de Marbre, around which is the old palace of Louis XIII, crowned with balustrades, vases, trophies and statues. South of the Cour Royal is a small court called Cour des Prants and divides the wing built by Louis XVIII from the main body of the southern wing. The Grand Commune is a vast square edifice enclosing a court. It has one thousand rooms and when Louis XIV lived here three thousand people lodged in this building. The chapel is exceedingly beautiful. It is one hundred and forty-eight feet by seventy-five and ninety feet high. The front of the palace is magnified in the highest degree. It presents a large projecting mass of building with two immense wings and consists of a ground floor, first floor of the Ionic style and attic. The wings exceed five hundred feet in length. The central front is three hundred and twenty feet long and each of its retiring sides two hundred feet high. The number of windows and doors of this front are three hundred and seventy-five. To describe the paintings and statuary would require a volume. Let me say that here on the walls is the history of France that conduces her to glory. Every battle by land or sea that she ever won is here but not an allusion to her defeats. I looked hard for Agincourt and Cressy to say nothing of later conflicts but they were not to be seen. Some of these pictures have great merit while others are coarsely designed and executed. The historical series begins with a baptism of Clovis in four ninety-five and comes down to the present period with the illustration of about eleven hundred subjects. Then there are about one hundred views of royal palaces and series as follows. Portraits of the kings of France, of French admirals, of constables of France and of marshals of France to the number of some two hundred and fifty, of French warriors, of personages who became celebrated in different ways, which amount to nearly eighteen hundred, and here we found several Americans. We noticed the likeness of Mr. Webster by Healy, but the canvas is too small and the picture has faded. It is not equal to the noble painting by Harding which we saw just before we left home. These last portraits afforded us a great treat and here we saw fine likenesses of the great ones of the earth. All the old pictures have dates of death and many of birth. The sculpture gallery is very rich. There are more than six hundred figures, some of them exceedingly expressive and beautiful. I should think that more than two hundred and fifty of the historical paintings relate to events and persons connected with the power of Napoleon. A very conspicuous feature is the series illustrating the conquest of Algiers. These are foreign number and are immense as to size. I should think thirty or forty feet in length. They are by Horace Vernet and are very effective. The apartments of the palace are perfectly regal. They quite come up to one's preconceived ideas of the days of Louis Lacran. I looked with interest at the door through which Marie Antoinette made her escape and whence she was dragged by the mob. The chamber of Louis XIV is just as it was in his time. Here the grand monarch died upon that bed. There is the balustrade which fenced off the bed of majesty. The ceiling of this room has the noblest painting in France. It is Jove launching his bolts against the titans and was done by Paul Veronnais. Napoleon brought it from Venice. There seemed no end to the apartments. We saw those of Madame Montenot, the royal confessional and the dining room of Louis XIV which was the cabinet of Louis XVI. In this room Louis XIV entertained Molière when he had been ill-treated or neglected by his ministers for six years. I am told that the officers of my household do not find that you were made to eat with them. Sit down at this table and let them serve us up breakfast. This was his language to the great poet when he had called him to his presence. The king then helped him to a fowl's wing and treated him in the most gracious manner. He knew the worth of genius. The king could make a marshal but he could not make a poet. All the innumerable rooms have beautiful paintings and works of art. One room, called the Saloon of the Crusades was delightfully interesting and the great pictures of that apartment did much to impress the events of the Holy Wars upon our minds. George was in ecstasies with the souvenirs of his idol, the emperor, and as we shall leave him for five or six months in Paris, I expect that in addition to the vast amount of knowledge which he really possesses of the history of Napoleon, he will return home posted up with all the on-dee of the worshippers of the emperor. The theatre is very fine. It is quite large and would be admired in any capital. It was built by Louis XV at the instigation of Madame Pompadour. It was used by Louis Philippe and we saw his seat. The gardens are world-renowned so we must admire them. They did not quite come up to my notions. The fountains, statuary, ponds, orange trees are all very grand but I cannot say I was as pleased as the boys were. Perhaps I was weary. I know I was anxious. I had an old and valued friend living in Versailles and was unable to ascertain her residence. We went to the Grand and Petit Trianon. The Grand Trianon is a palace with one story and having two wings. The Little Trianon has two stories. Here the royalty has loved to loiter when tired of the splendours of the stupendous palace close by. Here are some exquisite paintings brought by Louis Philippe from the Louvre. We repaired to a good café close by the palace, had a satisfactory dinner with Mr. Hodgson and his family and then took our carriage for Paris. Our route to Versailles was through Passy where our Dr. Franklin lived in 1788 at number Fru Rue Buss. Berangé resides in this village. It seems a favourite resort for genius for here have resided the Chancellor de Gassau, Bolleau, Molière and Condorcet. We passed through Serre where the beautiful China is manufactured and drove through the park of St. Cloud the palace being in sight. On our return we drove leisurely through the Boy de Bologna. These woods afford a fine opportunity to the Parisians for exercise either on horseback or in carriages and it is to Paris what Hyde Park is to London and the avenues are to New York and much pleasanter than either. We fought most of the duels which in other days have been so numerous in Paris but which I am glad to say are getting into disrepute. The boys will write you before we leave Paris. Yours always, J-O-C. End of Letter 48 Read by Cibella Denton All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org Letter 49 of young Americans abroad or vacation in Europe travels in England, France, Holland Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland edited by J-O-C. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 49 Paris Dear Charlie Our stay here at our present visit will be several days longer than we expected. We have to get clothing in various articles which can be obtained here to more advantage than in England or at home. We have been to some large jewelry establishments and made selections of presents for our absent but remembered friends. One morning we spent very pleasantly at a celebrated depot of glass manufacturers. The display was very large and also brilliant and we made some pretty selections. The taste of the French is very great and a large part of this population must live by furnishing the rest of the world with mere matters of bijouterie. We have had the pleasure to meet several of the doctor's acquaintances from America and among others whom we have often met have been Reverend Dr. Alexander, Reverend Dr. Ritchie, the Honorable H. D. Raymond, Mr. G. P. Putnam, Mr. Bunting, Mr. Herring, Mr. Howard, etc. I have been much gratified in getting acquainted with Mr. Raymond whom I have met several times. He is quite a young-looking man for one who holds his important position of Speaker of the New York House of Assembly. I should not think him to be more than twenty-six or twenty-seven though perhaps he is thirty. Mr. Putnam is the author of my favorite book, The World's Progress, The Book of Dates, and one which I recommend you, Charlie, always to keep on your table within reach for reference. If I live to return home I have much to do that never before appeared to me of so great importance. I want to become thoroughly conversant with English and French history, for in a certain sense not to know what happened before we were born is always to be children, and if my journey has done me no other good it has very clearly shown me how little I know and how very much I ought to understand and must if I would take my place among intelligent well-educated men. I am sure too that I have acquired on this journey a desire to make improvement. Everywhere I find the records of intellect and genius, and I cannot remain, be willing to go through life and enjoy the means of improvement without deriving profit. We have met with very kind attentions from Mr. Hector Brossange, the great bookseller who invited us to dinner. He is a gentleman of great activity and seems always engaged, and yet I have noticed that such persons seem to have time for everyone and everything. I have noticed this at home as well as abroad. Some of these men who have so much to do and so many persons to see and be polite to must work very hard at times, or else they understand the way to get through business in a patient method. These busy men seem to have read everything, and even in new books they keep up with the times. They must do it, I guess, by remembering our old copy that spare minutes are the golden sands of life. George is going to stay here for four or five months, and the doctor is busy in finding him a suitable home and getting him an outfit. You would perhaps like to hear a little about the Opital des Envelides where the old soldiers of France bring up when passed labor. It is a vast building and covers sixteen acres, which however enclose fifteen various courts. It is governed and managed by the senior marshal of France, a lieutenant general, commandant of the hotel, a colonel major, three adjutant majors, three sub-adjutant majors, one a moner, two chaplains, one apothecary and ten assistants, twenty-six sisters of charity, and two hundred and sixty servants. There are about one hundred and seventy officers and about three thousand five hundred invalids in all. This is a truly magnificent building, both architecturally considered and in its interior arrangements. The council chamber is very fine and here are some admirable portraits and the best statue of Napoleon that is extant. The dome is very grand, but is at present invisible on account of the alterations going on to complete the tomb of Napoleon. This will be the grandest tomb probably in the world. The sarcophagus is to rest on a platform to which the access is by steps of green marble. Here is a good library and some manuscripts of the two prime ministers, Sully and Colbert, a good picture of Napoleon and Louis Philippe, the cannonball which killed Marshal Turin and his equestrian statue of Colbert. My favorite stroll here is in the garden of the Tuileries. I am never weary of this place. Here are the finest flowers, the best walks, the gayest company, the prettiest children and the densest shade if you please to go into it in Paris. Then, too, there are groups of statuary and fountains with lofty jet and proud swans in the reservoirs. I would like to have you walking in that thick forest growth. There is no underbrush and I can see the other. After a long walk you come to the noble portals guarded by Lyons Couchant and just beyond is the spot where Louis XVI was Guyotin. I do not believe there is a nobler view in Europe that now opens to the spectator. There before me is the obelisk of Luxor which was brought from Egypt and now stands in the Place de la Concorde. Its history, its removal, its present position all serve to delight me. Myself it is a noble object and my eye ever rests on it with pleasure. Just think, Charlie, that you are at my side. Turn around and look at the gardens we have left. There, see the long, low twilleries, the palace of the Bourbons, the home of Napoleon, the residence of the citizen king and now the palace national. Off to the right is the Seine and its long line of quays. Here is the bridge and just across it is the chamber of the assembly I like this building exceedingly. To our left is a long, stately range known as the Rue Rivoli in which we reside. It has an arched arcade in front for foot passengers and some hundreds of columns to support and adorn it. At this end are public offices. Now turn and look at our left and see a street cuts through this noble row and at its end you see the pride of the city, the Madeline. There it is, all white and its stately columns tell of Greece. Now if you turn your back upon the twilleries, you will gaze upon the open space of the Champs-Élysées and look down along that splendid avenue and there see the finest thing in France, Bonaparte's triumphal arch. One word about this arch. It is the work of the emperor who ordered its erection in 1806 when the foundation was laid. In 1814 it was suspended but in 1823 it was resumed in honor of the Duke d'Angelo's victories in Spain. In 1830 its original intention was adopted and in 1836 it was completed and its cost was nearly 11 millions of francs. It is a vast arch, 90 feet high and 45 feet wide with entablature and attic. Its total height is 152 feet, breadth 137 feet, depth 68 feet. On the fronts are colossal groups in which figures are 18 feet. All these are historical and tell of the great man in his fields of glory. You ascend this wonderful work of art by 260 steps and get the best view of Paris. Close by is the hippodrome of which some of us have told you I suppose during our last visit. At less than a mile from this place is the Chapel of Saint Ferdinand built on the spot where the Duke of Orleans died by a fall from his carriage in 1842. It is a small building of stone 50 feet long and is of Gothic style. Here are many interesting objects, the marble group descriptive of the dying prince and at his head an angel in supplication. This angel was the sculpture of his sister, the Princess Marie. The painted windows are exquisite representations of the patron saints of the royal family. Behind the altar is the room in which the Duke died, now used as the sacristy of the chapel. Here too is a picture of the death bed. I am glad that I saw this as the rest of the party were not able to be there. The great national library is in the Rue Vivienne. The building is a dark looking affair 540 feet long and 130 feet wide. Inside is a court 300 feet by 90 and that is flanked with buildings. The library is in five sections, first manuscripts, second printed books third engravings, fourth metals and fifth marbles. Perhaps the best collection of early printing that Europe can show is in this place. You will be surprised when I tell you that there are here 1,500,000 works. I cannot attempt to tell you the curiosities that are to be seen here. Gems, cameos, antiques, swords, armors, models, portraits, busts, and then as for autographs why a collector could not fail to break the tenth commandment when he looked at the letters of this case. The engravings alone are a study for months. I have to see my tailor, Mr. Woodman, who is a capital one, and then I must go to four, the boot maker, of whom let me tell you a story. The doctor went to be measured when we first arrived and the man told him it was not necessary as he had his measure. How so, he inquired. Why, sir, replied the man, I remember you fifteen years ago at the Hotel Windsor and taking down his book, showed his name, number of his room, etc. I think this a pretty considerable proof of memory and equal to what we are told of some of our American landlords who are said never to forget a face. These engagements discharged, I am ready to pack up. We all feel sad at leaving George, who has been a kind and amiable companion, but we hope to see him again. Let me tell you that we are to have a new teacher. Dr. C. has engaged Mr. Audin, a graduate from the University of Paris to return with us. This gentleman is married and we are all pleased with him and expect, of course, to profit under his instructions. Monsieur Audin has taken us to see a very curious manufacturer of fruits, fishes, etc. They are certainly life-like. Then, too, there is a branch of this establishment devoted to the preparation of medical representations of disease and the skill exhibited is very great. I feel sad at leaving France, for I do like her capital, and then I cannot help a fear that she has dark days not very far off. She talks of liberty at all her corners, but she seems to have none in her conduct of the daily press. There are too many soldiers here to please an American. At home we have all the blessings of a government and do not see the machinery. We have no soldiers to keep us moving along. I shall always think with pleasure and if I ever come again, I have work chalked out for three months, at least. Yours affectionately, James. End of Letter 49. Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org. Letter 50 of Young Americans Abroad or Vacation in Europe travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland, edited by J.O. RedfordLibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 50. London. Dear Charlie. We had a pleasant time from Paris to Calais and here we determined to pass a day and look at a city which has been so celebrated, both in the history of France and England. We put up a kiox. The population is about 13,000. The town is strongly fortified and has very few external attractions. The gate built by 1885 and delineated by Hogarth still stands. You know that England held this town from 1347 to 1558 and as a result you can find several specimens of English tutor architecture, especially the Hotel de Geys. The walks upon the fortifications are fine and afford commanding views of the cliffs of the south coast of England. The place generally has some three or four thousand English, many of whom are refugees . At eleven at night we went on board a French steamer for Dover and the instant that she got outside the pier she jumped like a mad thing. Oh, Charlie, that was a horrid night. We were all sick, very sick indeed. It took us about three hours to get over and we were thankful to land and take refuge for three or four hours in the quiet of our bedrooms. At eight we took the cars for London and were at the Golden Cross, quietly settled down in our old quarters . I ought to tell you that we hurried over in order to be here at the great entertainment which Mr. George Peabody gives to his Excellency Abbot Lawrence and his lady on the evening of the Fourth of July. We were invited and felt anxious to be there as in addition to the other notable characters the Duke was to be present. All that day the subject of the evening was the great topic with Americans and as more than nine hundred acceptances were received to invitations issued it was expected that the party would be interesting and that many who failed to obtain tickets would be disappointed. The entertainment was given at Allmox, Willis's Room, St. James's and upon a scale of great magnificence. It consisted of a concert at half-past nine, a ball at eleven and supper at one. The idea of celebrating our national independence in London under the peculiar circumstances which London presents at this moment was a happy one and though some wise men doubted the wisdom of the measure yet the result proved the prudence and practical good sense of its originator and perhaps few men possess more of this admirable quality than Mr. Peabody. The rooms at Allmox are very spacious so that there was ample space for the one thousand who proved to be present. At one end of the room were seen the portraits of the Queen in Washington surrounded by the flags of England and the United States and around were placed busts of Her Majesty, Prince Albert, Franklin, Webster and other celebrated men of both countries. Each lady was presented on her entrance with a fine bouquet. At half-past nine the seats for the concert were entirely filled. The pieces for the glee and madrigals were spring's delight come let us join the round-delay foresters sound the cheerful horn and the winds whistle cold. The band for the ball was coot and tinny's. The concert was very fine. I was most pleased with Miss Hayes and next with Le Blanche whose voice is the finest I ever heard. The duke came just at the close of the concert as the seats were being removed for the dancing. Mr. Peabody met him in the reception room and led him to the upper end of the ballroom where he was cordially greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence. The band struck up, see the conquering hero comes and I really felt that such a reception to such a man and under such circumstances was something for an American boy to see and if I live thirty or forty years it will be something to tell about. There were but few comparatively who danced. The company were in groups in the different rooms taking refreshments. At one supper was announced on the ground floor of the house and here the press was felt to be greater than upstairs. The tables were most gorgeously laid out with every delicacy that unlimited outlay of expense could secure. Perhaps you would like to know some of the company present belonging to England and who certainly were present for the first time to celebrate the anniversary of American independence. There were the Duke of Wellington, Marqueses of Eli and Clan Ricard, Lord Glenelg, Lord Charles Manners, Lord Charles Russell, Lord Mayor of London and Lady Mayor S, Viscount Canning, Lord and Lady Dormer, Lord Hill, Lord Stewart, Baron and Lady Alderson, the Chancellor of the Exchequer and Lady Mary Wood, Mr. Justice and Lady Coleridge, the Governor of the Bank of England, Joseph Hume, MP and family, Lady Morgan, Miss Burtut Coots, Admiral Watkins, the Countess of Eglinton, Countess Pallett, Lady Talbot Mahahide, and a very long etc. Mr. Peabody could not have served his country better than by affording an opportunity for the great and distinguished of England to meet a large party of his countrymen on an occasion dear to Americans and especially dear when they are far away from their country and feel that under the broad flag of the stars and stripes they are everywhere as safe as if they were in New York or Boston. It was very clear that hostile feeling had ceased and that the great Anglo-Saxon family can now meet anywhere and display the brotherhood which they ought ever to feel. Such a meeting could not have taken place twenty years ago and perhaps this beautiful demonstration would never have been afforded if the thought had not presented itself to our host who had the means to carry out the idea with a nobleness that did honour to himself and his country. We left the rooms on a bright starlight morning just as day was opening her eye and were soon comfortably housed in our pleasant home. I write in haste for we have much to do before we leave London. Yours affectionately, James. End of Letter 50 Read by Cibela Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org Letter 51 of Young Americans Abroad or Vacation in Europe travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland edited by J. O. Choules Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 51 London Dear Charlie We have had one of the most agreeable days that I have spent in England. We received a kind invitation from His Excellency, Baron Van der Weer, the Belgian minister, to attend a party given by His Lady to the young nobility. The invitations were for five o'clock. We found the finest collection of children and young people, from about four years old, up to sixteen, that I ever saw gathered together. I should think that there were two hundred and fifty. More beautiful children cannot probably be found and they were dressed in fine taste and some very richly. One little fellow, about six years old was, I think, the noblest-looking boy my eyes ever rested upon. Dr. C. inquired of two or three persons whom he knew who the lad was and just then an elegant and fashionable-looking lady expressed how much she felt flattered by the kind things said of the little fellow and told him that it was her son, the eldest son of the Marquis of O, and then called him out of the dance and introduced the little Lord Orserie to him. Among the illustrious juveniles was the future Duke of Wellington and grandson of the Iron Duke. He is now about four or five years old. I think the sight was one of the prettiest I ever had the pleasure to witness. A few of the parents and older friends of the children were present and in the company was Mr. Bates whose kindness to us has been very great. One evening this week Dr. Choules preached at Craven Chapel near Regent Street where he had been requested to speak about America and he took up education, history, principle, and slavery. On the last topic he gave some truths that were probably very unpalatable. He stated that the good people here knew next to nothing of the subject, that its treatment amongst us could not be suffered by strangers and that all interference with it by this nation was as impolitic and in as bad taste as it would be for an American to visit England and commence a crusade against the expenditures of the royal household as a crying sin while there was misery among the masses in many parts of the kingdom. He spoke of the extreme prejudice which he had met with upon the subject and the rudenesses into which he had found men fall who seemed to have forgotten every courtesy of life. He gave them many facts which though perfectly correct, yet he said he supposed he would be interpreted as a special plea on behalf of slavery although nothing could be more untrue. The prejudice existing here is amusing. They seem to take it for granted that every American raises cotton, sugar, and tobacco and therefore is a slave-holder. However, I find Mers persons of candor ready to acknowledge that it is questionable whether any good can possibly result from sending English agents to agitate the slavery question in the United States. There are a great many things which we have seen in London that are less worthy of note than those we have written you about and yet in themselves are very useful and interesting and we hope the remembrance of them will be of service to us hereafter. I have been much struck with the prevalence of the same names in the streets as those which are so familiar to me on our sides and boards. We have most clearly a common origin and there are no two nations in the world between whom there is of necessity so much sympathy on all great questions. We have visited the exhibition several times since our return with fresh pleasure on every occasion. We are doing little in competition with the English, French and Belgian exhibitors but we have a wonderful deal here that proves Jonathan to be a smart chap at Invention and no slouch at labour-saving operations. We cannot afford to spend the labour of free men who own their houses and farms and gardens upon single pieces of furniture that would take six months to complete. Our time is too valuable for this. The pauper labour of Europe will, I hope, long continue to be cheaper than the toil of American mechanics. I do not want to see a man working for thirty cents a day. The people of England must laugh in their sleeves when they see every steamer bringing out our species from America and when they see us sacrificing our true interests to aid the destructive policy of free trade. I have never thought so much about the tariff as since I have been here and I am now convinced that we ought to give suitable encouragement to all kinds of manufacturers in our country and the regular market for the products of the agriculturalist. The English agents that flood our country are placing the land under a constant drain and our species must go abroad instead of circulating at home. It is only in times of great scarcity that England will want much of our wheat or corn and the English very freely avow that they hope to be able air long to get their cotton from the east. It seems to me that our southern states will need their new England constant market and that our policy is to take care of ourselves. Certainly there is a great variety of opinion here about free trade and I hear gentlemen debate strongly against it. The reciprocity of England is a queer thing. All this yarn, Charlie, grows naturally out of my starting point about the exhibition. We go tonight to Bristol to visit our kind friends once more, thence we run into South Wales and afterwards set our faces homeward. Yours etc. Weld. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .