Recollections of a Winter's Ramble on the Continent

Front matter

RECOLLECTIONS OF A WINTER'S RAMBLE ON THE CONTINENT, BY TANKERVILLE CHAMBERLAYNE, B.A. (Magdalen College, Oxford). "WINCHESTEE : JACOB AND JOHNSON, PRINTERS. " NOS HÆC NOVIMUS ESSE NIHIL." A word of apology, or rather, explanation, is due, perhaps, to those persons who may possibly undertake a perusal of these pages with the idea that they con tain an account of thrilling adventures and hair breadth escapes in foreign lands. Indeed, they will be grievously disappointed; for they will find but a very ordinary description of a very ordinary tour. I did not go in search of adventure, and, consequently, nothing of the sort is herein recorded. In allowing my " Recollections" to assume the form of a book, I had an eye to the pleasure I myself may derive here after from a perusal of them ; and so, selfish as it may appear to be, the chief objects in view were the grati fication and delectation of Number One.

Ceanbury Park, June 12, 1867. ERRATA. Page 29, line 11, for " Assmanhansen" read " Assmanhausen." „ 98, „ 8, for " Elegant young person" read " Elegant person." „ 130, „ 6, for " Arcus Maximus," read " Circus Maximus." RECOLLECTIONS OF A WINTER'S RAMBLE ON THE CONTINENT.

Chapter I

The summer of 1866, which had set in, in England, with its usual severity, left us after a few days of unusual splendour, and heat, in which everything, including the cholera, seemed to make an effort to recruit its dying energies. Autumn folloAved, and ruled the year with milder influence ; but his reign was short, and, at the time I began my travels, November had already commenced to mystify us with his fogs, chill us with his bitter winds, and otherwise Avarn us that he was heralding the approach of winter. About this time two great movements are annually noticed to take place among that por tion of the community who rejoice in an Anglo- TOURISTS. continental existence : 1st, those enterprising travellers who have, during the summer, " been up the Rhine," " done Switzerland," and as cended the Rigi, seek again their native shores, encumbered with an euormous amount of luggage, a purse considerably lightened by a long residence in those hotbeds of extortion — continental hotels, and a liver more or less disor ganised by those extraordinary specimens of culinary skill, yclept the " table d'hote," whose distinguishing feature is variety, whose neces sary adjunct is a collection of the most abominable sauces, and whose inevitable result is a sense of repletion, succeeded by a headache.

These victims, with a worn-out copy of " Mur ray" in their hands, may now be seen daily ascending the steps of the Admiralty Pier at Dover, looking none the better for their voyage (?), and eagerly seeking the trains which are to convey them, via London, to their homes in Manchester, Liverpool, &c. Of course there are exceptions to this as to every other rule. Look at those three fine young fellows, whose bearing most unmistakeably suggests " Ox ford ;" surely the ruddy hue of health in their faces, and the well worn Alpenstocks in their hands, speak of loftier achievements than climbing the Rigi or writing their names on ENGLISHMEN ABROAD. the spire of Strasbourg Cathedral ! But still, no traveller can call my criticism entirely unjust, for is it not as sad as it is true that many, too many, excursionists from our shores, excite, by their uncivilized conduct (I can think of no other suitable expression), a measure of contempt not altogether unmerited?

I my self have seen in some of the cathedrals and churches in Rome, in some of the villas and palaces in Genoa, Elorence, Vienna, Dresden, and other places, behaviour so unbecoming the character of a gentleman, or what I would fain consider a synonymous expression, an English man, that I have solaced myself by clinging with hopeless tenacity to the (im)probability that they might be Americans, and have waited eagerly to overhear them "calculating" or " guessing," but in vain. Now let us consider the other class of travel lers who are generally on the move at this season of the year. These are outward bound, and by far the larger portion are seeking some more genial climate to winter in. Eew, except the regular habitues of fashionable watering places where there is a winter season, ven ture abroad just now if solely on pleasure bent, but alas ! too many are warned away from our fickle climate, and induced to fight OBJECTS OP TRAVEL. the great battle with death on more advan tageous ground, many, it is to be feared — Avith no prospect but the certainty of having at length to succumb.

To neither class did I belong. I Avas simply in want of something to do, and kind friends gave me this some what vague piece of advice, " Go abroad." To explain what for, or to suggest where to, was beyond them. They thought, good souls ! they had solved the enigma and discovered the very thing for an idle young man to do. " Going abroad," says one, ex pands the ideas, destroys one's English pre judices, and altogether gives education the finishing touch. " Going abroad" suggests another, introduces one to a society whose capabilities of polishing the " mores" of young gentlemen and preventing them from being "feros'" are too well-known to be derided or doubted. " Going abroad," lisps a third (and the most ignorant of the three), means an introduction to continental courts, am bassadors' levees, and a German heiress for a wife!

I expected none of these and was not disappointed. I had a wish to see foreign parts when not deluged by tourists, and finally determined to cross the Channel and decide on my destination at my leisure. Accordingly, ARRIVE AT DOVER. 5 one very stormy day, at about four in the afternoon, the South Eastern Raihvay Com pany deposited me and my "effects" at the Dover Station, without having run off the line at Staplehurst or " collided" at that intricate junction, that iron labyrinth, Red-hill. I have observed that the weather was very stormy, but think not I was by that deterred from crossing over to Calais that night. I infinitely prefer the day passage, so took up my quarters at the Lord Warden Hotel, a hostelry noted for the gigantic proportions of its coffee-room and its charges, but comfortable withal.

Soon after my arrival I saw a gun-boat leave the harbour and endeavour to steam down Channel ; but the wind being due west and the sea running very high, she began to make stern way towards the South Eoreland, until, getting once more under the lea of the Admi ralty Pier, she returned to the harbour. This will give some idea of what the weather was : a coastguardsman told me it was bloAving a " stiff wind," and one may generally multiply such a statement by four at least, since I never heard a sailor use a stronger expression about the weather but once, and that Avas " a solid gale o' Avind." At night I walked out to see the mail train arrive and the mail boat start, THE MAIL BOAT. the latter, a small but capital sea-boat, " The Wave," was brought up alongside the pier to leeward, and rolling so heavily as to make the "walking the plank" a matter of no slight difficulty.

The sea actually washed entirely over the pier, and, unless one was quite under the stone coping, it was next to impossible to escape a ducking. At last the South-Eastern train arrived, closely followed by the London, Chatham, and Dover, and the passengers, with an alacrity that they must have bitterly regretted when half across the Channel, made a rush for the vessel. At this moment I was accosted by two Erenchmen, who were in the most abject state of terror. The sense of secur ity afforded by a first-class railway carriage had been suddenly dissipated by the sight of the steamboat's rolling, while the howling of the wind and the torrents of rain, intermingled with spray, scorned the feeble resistance offered by Monsieur's paletdt. They eagerly asked me whether it was rough outside ; but as I had not been tempting Providence in an open boat, or wasting my money by hiring a larger and safer vessel for such a voyage of discovery, I could give them little information.

At last they were positively dragged on board by the impa tient sailor who was steadying the plank, and, THE EXCISEMAN. ere they could remonstrate or fly, the vessel had moved off, and soon disappeared in the darkness, which was positively intense. I have often wondered how it is there are no more casualties or collisions between Dover and Calais. Night after night the mail boat crosses at an aA'erage rate of twelve miles an hour, and slackens speed for no fog or darkness, however thick, while the Straits of Dover are often so crowded Avith vessels, bound east or west, as to suggest the idea of a watery Cheapside. As soon as the boat was lost in the blackness of darkness that hung over the sea, I returned to the hotel, lingering a few minutes to have a few words Avith my friend, the coastguardsman.

While so engaged two men passed us, at one of whom the old fellow gazed with a look of awe and admiration. There was nothing very remark able in his appearance, most of his person and part of his face being concealed in a huge over coat. " Who is that?" I asked. "Hush!" said my companion ; and then in a low Avhisper, — ■ " That be a 'tective, Sir, from Lunnun, and a clever chap, too ; when ye see his eye on yer, ye knows it's all up." My conscience, however, was such as to relieve me from any embarrass ment that the presence of such a reader of countenances might cause to some, so I merely THE EXCISEMAN. asked what he was doing at Dover. " Looking out for Stephens," said the exciseman, "and sure enough he'll have him too." But not for some considerable time, thought I, and so it has turned out.

So saying good night to my old friend, and receiving from him a parting gift of two undeniable cigars, the possession of which might easily cause the owner to dread the searching gaze of a detective, particularly when the possessor was an exciseman, I made for my room, and so to bed.

Chapter II

I was agreeably surprised the next morning to find the sun shining out brilliantly and the sea much smoother than I could have believed possible after the fierce wrestle it had been engaged in with the storm the day before. I breakfasted like one whose conscience troubles him not, made a rush for the book-stall at the station, and with a handful of newspapers sought the steam-boat, the "Prince Napoleon," a good old boat, but not as fast as the " Prince Imperial." She was manned by Erenchmen, the arrangement being that the English have the night service and the Erench the day. Surely one has a grand opportunity of study ing life and character on board these boats. Such a motley collection of pleasureseekers, commercial men, invalids, and law-evaders it would be difficult to find elsewhere. Just as we were going to start a pompous but good natured old gentleman entered into conversa- DOVER TO CALAIS. tion with me.

The vessel was steady enough then, but I knew she would roll a little when we had once fairly started. " A lovely, morning, sir," said he, " and quite calm, too :" this in that incredulo-positive tone which always indicates a frantic effort at self-deception. " O yes, " said I ; "a little lop outside, perhaps, but nothing to speak of." (N. B. — I am great in nautical expressions — e. g. lop.) " I am taking my wife and family to Calais and back," continued he; "they are fond of the sea, and very anxious to see foreign parts." "When do you return ?" I asked. " O, to-night. You see, if we leave [Here followed an analysis of certain pages of Bradshaw's guide, from which it appeared that, after spending an hour and a half in Calais, the return mail boat and consequent mail train would enable the parties to reach Threadneedlestreet at a reasonable hour in the morning].

I expressed a hope that they would enjoy themselves, and, carefully picking my way through the array of crockery that encumbered the deck, I saun tered forward to inspect the rest of the living cargo. Unfortunately for me, I chose a cadaverous and melancholy looking man for my next campagnon de voyage, and a most extraordinary person he turned out to be. He DOVER TO CALAIS. disagreed with me in everything, and invari ably contradicted whatever I said. At last, perfectly wearied with my efforts to find a topic about Avhich we might entertain similar opinions, I prepared to leave him, and, just as he had finished declaring that something I had said was absurd, I uttered, with a sigh, " Well, perhaps you are right." " I seldom am," muttered he, with sarcastic humility, and we separated. Soon afterwards I discovered him in a most miserable plight, lying on the deck Avith more than an ordinary share of the afore-mentioned crockery in his immediate vicinity.

" Sic (k) transit," thought I, and passed on, but to encounter my first friend, who was gazing helplessly at five recumbent figures, viz. his wife and familv, all as ill as seasickness could make them. The old gentleman turned to me, and, I am sorry to say it, I laughed. He eyed me sternly, and after that our conversation seldom exceeded the legitimate "yea" and "nay." I endeavoured, however, to enter into a more genial discussion, but failed signally. I pointed out my cadaverous friend, and declared I had never met a more disagreeable looking man. " One ought not to judge a man by his exterior, Sir," he answered somewhat sternly. TERRIBLE SPECTACLE. No, thought I, as I turned to depart ; but then I have seen more than that, and the impressions thereby conveyed Avere far from interesting. As I again walked forward towards the smoker's boundary, I saw, what ?

" In mercy dispel, " Yon sight that it freezes my spirit to tell," the figure of a young and beautiful lady in all the agony of emetical convulsions. Despite the deathly pallor of her countenance, I at once recognised her who nightly at the Surrey Theatre dazzled the Cockneys with her beauty, and astonished the yokels with her agility. Instantly the words " Bring forth the menken," sounded in my ears, and I only remembered where I was when I again glanced towards the wreck before me, " Mei mihi qualis erat !" (excuse exclamations, I have naturally strong feelings). Can this be she, ye gods and little fishes ! (The poor victim was in a better con dition to propitiate the latter than the former just then). What a fearful transformation ! but as I could do no good by remaining I went away a sadder man ; but as I went a horrible thought flashed across my mind which gave me much uneasiness.

Is it possible, thought I, that Alice (never mind who Alice is) could ever be s— k like that ? CALAIS. Nothing else worthy of recital occurred on the voyage. In due time (i.e. at the time we Avere due) we entered Calais harbour. At the end of the pier were a few loungers gazing at us, chiefly consisting of two or three diminutive soldiers Avith Avasp like Avaists and enormous pegtop trousers, a few gorgeously apparelled gendarmes, and a small sprinkling of the tag, rag, and bobtail of the town. Carefully thread ing our way through the numerous vessels that filled the harbour, we finally stopped almost opposite to the Railway Station. It is at this particular juncture that one begins to appre ciate the blessings conferred on the travelling community by the inventors of the through booking system, instead of a frantic scramble after your luggage, spasmodic efforts to explain what you want to the Erench employes, and having to pay, comparatively speaking, an enor mous sum for the transport of your things to the train, you have nothing to think of but the "Buffet."

Your luggage once registered in London or at Dover, you have nothing to do with it until you arrive at the end of your journey. Everybody noAV made for the aforesaid " Buffet," and the intestinal vacua caused by the sea passage Avere soon yielding to the effects of bouillon and " Paleale." As for me, I was CALAIS TO BRUSSELS. bound for Brussels, so as I kneAV that the Paris train started in ten minutes, and the convoi pour la Belgique in an hour and a quarter, I resolved to take a stroll until the passengers for Paris had departed, when I should find more room to discuss my demi poulet and bottle of St. Julien. Accordingly I sauntered town wards and entered the Market-place; but I have little to say about Calais. I thought it dull and dirty, the houses badly built, and most of the streets unpleasantly odoriferous.

I had soon seen all I wanted to, so returned to the station. The Paris train having gone there was plenty of room, and I had my lunch with out an elbow in each side of my plate, or con tinually mistaking somebody else's bread for my OAvn. But there is an end to everything, even to an hour's waiting at a railway station, certainly the longest 60 minutes — the most pro tracted 3600 seconds that I know of. I took my place in a very comfortable carriage, in company with a German from Manchester bound for Erankfort. Little happened on the journey worth recollecting. We stopped at Hazebroiik (where I regretted I was not hun gry, for there is one of the best buffets in Erance), and again at Lille and a feAv smaller ARRIVE AT BRUSSELS. stations, including Blandain on the frontier, where we were searched, the officials behaving with great civility.

The sight of my shirts evidently delighted or disgusted them, for they closed my portmanteau again instantly, and returned me the key Avith a bow. At about six o'clock we arrived at the Station du Midi at Brussels, and I and my effects were soon in the omnibus of the Hotel de l'Europe. I had decided on this hotel, not because I liked it, but because I had been there before. I don't like it, it is so awfully quiet and dull. The people hardly ever speak, and the waiter is lachrymose to a degree that would be ludicrous were it not for the all-subduing influence of the place. On my next visit to Brussels I in tend to try the Hotel de Elandre, said to be the best in the toAvn. It being too late for the table d'hote I dined a la carte, and afterwards took a walk in the town. Certainly the shops in the Montagne de la Cour and the Galerie du Roi are splendid, and, when lighted up, present a coup d'œil to be rivalled only in Paris.

I can imagine a traveller with more money than brains not being in Brussels long before he had reduced the difference to insignificant pro portions. Luckily for me the preponderance lay the other way, so I contented myself with BRUSSELS. a glance through *he windoAVS at the treasures displayed. The next day it rained in torrents, yet, armed with my trusty umbrella, I sallied forth and took a peep at the Cathedral of St. Gudule. The painted glass in the Avindows is very famous, but I could not admire it as much as it is said it deserves ; it seemed to me far inferior to the old glass in some of our English cathedrals. I heard a curious story here which I will relate, as it was told to me without comment. I am not answerable for its authenticity, and as it is not the production of my OAvn inventive genius, I ought to escape such sarcastic obser vations as " Travellers tell strange tales," &c. Once on a time some Jews determined to rob the Cathedral of the consecrated bread for the mere purpose of scoffing at it, so, with the help of a ladder, one of them got into the church through a Avindow and soon returned Avith the bread in his hand.

At the suera-es tions of his companions he resolved to eat it, and accordingly opened his mouth to receive it, when suddenly he was seized Avith lock-jaw and could neither swallow it nor shut his mouth again. One of his companions took it away from him and carried it to his home, and there, putting it into a plate, thrust a knife BRUSSELS. into it when (sic narratur) blood immediately gushed from it, and the man fled from the room in terror. His wife then took it and re placed it in the Cathedral, where it is shoAvn to this day as fresh as when it was first put there. " Credat Judœus," which he didn't. I then went to ha\**e a look at the beautiful and ever-interesting Hotel de Ville in the Grande Place, whose perfect Gothic spire is a masterpiece of architecture. The bronze statues of Counts Egmont and Horn are also worth seeing and very well executed.

After that the Museum, where there are some masterpieces of Rubens, Caracci, and Paul Veronese, and later in the day I made a pilgrimage to the resi dence of M. Wiertz, whose paintings are con sidered as some of the finest productions by any living artist. It was a long distance to walk, being beyond the Luxembourg Railway and near the Zoological Gardens, but imagine my disgust at discovering it was not open Avhen I got there. Curses are always useless, so, taking a cursory glance at the outside of the building, I beat a retreat. L LEAVE BRUSSELS.

Chapter III

The next day I started at half-past one from the Station du Nord for Cologne. Eor some distance after leaving Brussels the railway passes through a flat and very uninteresting country. Now I do not hold that all flat country is uninteresting ; far from it. I think Holland most picturesque, but then the mono tony of the landscape there is relieved by the lagoons, the canals, the boats of all colours, sizes, and shapes, and the curious costumes of the natives ; whereas here you look in Arain for something to relieve the painful formality of the scene. Straight dusty roads with tall trees on either side, and small square fields are all you can see, and most welcome is the change that becomes observable as you draw near to Liege. At a little station just before you reach it called Haut-Pre the train stops and the loco motive gives place to a stationary engine, so steep is the gradient.

By this means the train LIEGE, VERVIERS. 19 is drawn carefully down hill to the Liege Sta tion. On emerging from the eutting the view is most striking. A long way below you lies the busy town, prettily scattered over a picturesque valley, surrounded by high hills, and like a silver thread amongst the smoke is seen the River Meuse. The Railway Station at Liege is a very fine building ; but, of course, that Avas all I could see of the place. The train only stops ten minutes, and we Avere soon off again. There is a fine bridge over the Meuse which we had a good opportunity of inspecting as the train stopped nearly 20 minutes on it Avhile waiting for some obstruction before us to be removed. The country betAveen Liege and Verviers is loArely, reminding me of some parts of the Manchester, Sheffield, and Lincoln Rail way between Retford and Penistone, but dark ness Avas drawing a veil over the scene, and a cigar and a nap were all the solace I could find.

I awoke at Verviers, Avhere Ave stopped some time to refresh the inner man and have our luggage inspected before entering the Prussian dominions. On again, but now in total darkness, and I remember little till we arrived at the central station, Cologne. I immediately repaired to the Hotel Disch, and was soon, to use an expression which cannot fail COLOGNE. to strike the reader with its originality and novelty, wrapped in the arms of Morpheus. This was not my first visit to Cologne, so, although I had no time to look over the town on this occasion, I may be pardoned for say ing a word or two about the place and its attractions. It is an extraordinary coincidence that such an exquisite perfume as eau de Cologne should emanate from such a stinking town as Cologne really is ; how it is ever free from the cholera is a mystery to me.

The streets are narrow, badly paved, and the at mosphere is positively frightful. I was obliged to hold my handkerchief to my face while perambulating the purlieus of this gigantic cesspool, and, in spite of its many and great attractions, was decidedly glad to get out of it. Eirst amongst these must be mentioned the Cathedral, one of the most Avonderful pieces of architecture in the world, and to me infinitely more interesting than St. Peter's, at Rome. It was commenced in 124-8, and is yet far from finished, but when once it is completed it will be difficult to believe that Gothic architecture can go any further. The stained glass in the apse is perfect, and the choir very grand in design and exquisite in execution. If there is a fault in the building COLOGNE. 21 it is that the ornamentation on the outside is too profuse, such a chaos of flying buttresses, each adorned with lace-like tracery, positively bewilders the eye.

The two enormous towers at the west end are as yet too unfinished to be described. In the Cathedral are preserved the bones of the Magi, but I was told, by rather a communicative fellow traveller, that if all the bones of the wise men Avhich he knew to be preserved in different continental churches were to be brought together in one heap the scriptural quotation that would suggest itself to us would be " Verily, there were giants in the earth in those days." The church of St. Peter is also well worth a visit. In it is the celebrated picture by Rubens — the Cruci fixion of Peter ; also the church of St. Ursula, which contains what are said to be the bones of the 11,000 virgins, the legend concerning whom is very interesting, — - " St. Ursula is said to have been a daughter of one of the old princes of Cornwall.

She, in company with other Christians of her sex, left England in conse quence of the persecution of the pagan Saxons, and sought refuge on the Continent. They were met by some of the barbarous Huns, and, in consequence of their refusal to yield to their solicitations, were all murdered, and are buried beneath this church. Their LEAVE COLOGNE. martyrdom occurred about the year 453. Some doubt exists as to their number, as xi. m.v. can be read " eleven martyrs, virgins," or " 1 1,000 virgins ;*" but certainly the tombs at Cologne are very numerous, and, if they really are what they are said to be, there must have been many more than eleven." The bridge over the Rhine is a model in its way, being divided into two parts, one the carriage road and the other the railway. It is of iron, and its length may be guessed Avhen it is considered that the Rhine here is broader than the Thames at Waterloo Bridge.

The steamboats can easily pass under it without " taking a reef in their funnels." I left Cologne on a fine, bright, frosty morning at nine o'clock, taking a ticket for Homburg les Bains, Avhere I intended to stop a few days, being anxious to have a peep at the Saison d'Hiver there. A tall and sour-looking Prussian shared the carriage with me. He was evidently of a taciturn disposition, as he never once opened his mouth, at least to talk, but, alas ! too frequently to indulge in that abominable but thoroughly German habit, " spitting." He was not smoking, so had not that excuse. But, indeed, the practice is to me inexplicable. It cannot, I should say, cause any gratification, and it is unspeakably disagreeable to well-bred A GERMAN HABIT. 23 English people. I can understand the luxury of an occasional yawn (when your mouth does not evince a disinclination to shut again, as has been the case with me sometimes), and full Avell I knoAv the sense of relief afforded by a thorough good sneeze, no snuff-begotten spasm, but a purely natural effort ; but I can not discover either the cause or effect of this nasty habit indulged in, as I have heard it, every five minutes at least, by perfectly healthy persons.

In nearly all the German hotels to which I have been I have observed spittoons in the bedrooms, on the stairs, and, in fact, everywhere ; but I will now dismiss the subject, which is far from a pleasant one, and was only introduced because it is im possible to study the manners and customs of the Germans without noticing it. I must now crave the indulgence of the reader for a few moments, and hark back to Cologne to mention an incident, unimportant, perhaps, but still illustrative of the taste and predilections of the upper 10,000 in Prussia. About nine o'clock the night before I left the place, the waiter at the hotel told me there was a famous lecturer in the town, and he was to give a grand public lecture that night, to which everybody (to the exclusion of the no- A PUBLIC LECTURE. bodies) was expected to go.