The American in Europe: being 'guesses' and 'calculations' on men and manners; made during a tour through the most important portions of Europe

Front matter

%m . .^ a MSl&KUKiMCŒ]T BEING ' GUESSES" and " CALCULATIONS" ( ON MEN AND MANNERS, rf MADE DURING A TOUR THROUGH THE MOST IMPORTANT & I PORTION OF EUROPE, V Illustrated by Steel Engravings ; comprising Sketches of Life, /sand Pencilling! of Nature, Engraved from the Original Drawv j>"7~ ings, by the First Artists of the day. i PRINTED AND PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETORS, BY JOHN TALLIS. & CO. LONDON AND NEW YORK. > / \ J— »^ * ] BEING " GUESSES" and "CALCULATIONS" ON MEN AND MANNERS, , MADE DURING A TOUR THROUGH THE MOST IMPORTANT PORTION OF EUROPE. V4 JOHN TALLIS AND COMPANY, LONDON AND NEW YORK. THE AMERICAN IN EUROPE: BEING " intssts" anb " Caltnlations" an $|ten anb Sanntrs; MADE DURING A TOUR THROUGH THE MOST IMPORTANT PORTIONS OF EUROPE. BY HENRY CLAY CROCKETT. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY THE LONDON PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY, LONDON AND NEW YORK.

INDEX TO ENGEAVINGS. To face page Abbeville Cathedral 47 Aline -' 28 Amalfi 184 Amboise, The Castle of 162 Amiens Cathedral ------ 48 , The Cathedral of .... 48 Antwerp, The Town Hall - - - - 165 Bach, John Sebastian 171 Baden-Baden 177 "Barricader," Portrait of a - - - - 160 Bernard, Jean 161 Bernard, Mount St 183 Blind Hermit, The 161 Boulogne Shrimpers, The - ... 17 Bride, The - 161 Bruges, Church of St. Salvador ... 164 Town Hall 163 Brunswick - - - - - . -173 Brussels, St. Gudula - - - - - 163 Chiffonier, Portrait of a ----- 160 Cologne Cathedral - - - - - - 166 Danube, The Walhalla on the - - - - 174 Diligence, The - - - ' - - - 48 Donaustauf - - - - - - -174 " Do you know me now ?" - - Frontispiece.

Ferry, The 178 Florence _--__._ Ig5 French Market Girl 42 68 French Market Waggon, The - - - - 47 Fribourg - - 172 Cathedral 172 Fulda 170 Genevieve ----... 161 Genoa 184 German Chimney Sweeper -: 176 German Skittle Ground - - - - - 170 Goethe - - - - - - - - 175 " Good Night." 28 Greenwich Fair ----_, 204 Hospital 16 Grotta di Posilipo - - - - - - 190 Heidelberg, Courtyard of - 176 , The Great Wine Barrel at - - 176 Horse Guards - 3 Hortense ----... 161 " In Defiance of the Law." - 160 Jenny Lind -- 13 Konigstein, The Fortress of - - - - 173 Liebethaler Griind, The 173 Liege, Interior of the Church of St. Jacques - 166 Town Hall and Market-place - . 166 To factpage Leipsic, Town Hall and Market-place - - 171 Lille Fortress - 163 Lyons 202 Mayence Cathedral 168 Meyringen, Switzerland - - - - - 180 Mozart 175 Music Lesson, The 1 " My Favourite" ------ 45 Naples 190 , Villa Royal 190 Palermo 201 Paris, Champs Elysees, A Scene on the - - 89 Chateau des Fleurs, The (Champs Elysees) 90 Chappie des Invalides - ... 68 Deputies, Chamber of - - - - 59 Dome des Invalides - 68 Exchange, The 68 Flower and Shrub Market ... 64 Jardin Mabille 161 Hotel de Ville 110 Luxembourg, Entrance to the - . - 101 Notre Dame, Exterior of - - 59 Interior of ... 59 Pantheon 68 Pere la Chaise ----- 68 St. Cloud, near - Vignette.

Chapter I

Page Autobiography of Ralph Potter (continued) - 105 St. Cloud - - - - . - - - 123 The Lettre de Catchet (an Episode of the Bastille) 126 Vincennes — Chiffoniers, &c. - - - - 160 " Jean Bernard" — the Bourse — Temple — " Genevieve" — "the Bride" — "the Jardin Mabille" — Hortense — the " Young Pets," &c. - - 161

CHAPTER IV.

The Netherlands — West and East Flanders — Brabant — Liege — the Rhine - - - 163

CHAPTER V.

Switzerland - - - - - - -179 Ralph Potter's Autobiography (conclusion of the story of Aline) 180

CHAPTER VI.

Italy - - 1S4

CHAPTER VII.

Naples - - - - . . . - 190

CHAPTER VIII.

London 208 Page A little about Myself 1 Liverpool — Birkenhead — London - - - 2, 3 Meeting of Friends 4 (Episode) How Tom Trevor did the Devil - 5 Jenny Lind ------- 13 Starting for the Continent - - - 14, 15 Boulogne - - - - - - -17 The Old " Grognard" 19 Ralph Potter's Autobiography (commencement) 28 Travelling 42 Wimille - - - - - - - 46

Chapter II

Montreuil — Abbeville 47 Amiens -------48 Clermont— Creil— Chantilly - ... 50 Luzarches — Ecouen — St. Denis 51 (Episode) A Chronicle of the Oise 52 Paris, &c 58 The Palais Royal 63 An Episode of the Palais Royal 69

Chapter III

Paris, &c. 82 The Sorbonne 84 ("Episode) The Hammerman of St. Jacques - 85 The Champs Elysees 89 The Palaces, Edifices, Hotels, &c, of Paris -

Chapter I

I WAS raised on the weather-side of the old Alleghanies, and first saw the light about forty years ago : I will not confess to more. I was a phenomenon at Hale College before my four first lustres passed, and have done a pretty good thing in the general line since then, without much troubling the classics ; so that, having dollars and time at command, I determined to make " tracks " for the old Continent, in order to see how they carried on their "fixins" there. I have, in my time, hunted the bee, the bison, and the buffalo. The reader will excuse the alliteration ; it may be an unconscious mark of genius. I have almost gone to the length of " whipping my weight in wild cats ;" but a sufficient number could not be found, they having taken flight when I first resolved upon it at a great 'coon hunt, which we held A THE AMERICAN IN EUROPE. north-west of the Delaware ; so I gave up the point.

So far as the Castalian fountain went, and all concerning it, I drained it as dry as the creeks of the Susquehanna are when the sun is vertical, and committed myself in verses of forty-horse power, addressed to Miss Jem. (for Jemima) Booty, daughter of Methusalem Booty, of Old Salem, which, I am told, created great havoc in her heart ; but of this I never took advantage. As I have said, I am (round about) forty years of age, clear in the eye, brown in the face, which is tanned by the sun of every clime, aquiline in the nose ; I stand six foot one in my stockings, am rather 'ugly' about the arm and hand, and have smoked pipes with every tribe from the Cat to the Pawnee Indians. I have drank sherry-coblers in the Broadway, no end of cocktail and mint-juleps up the Hudson, quarrelled with half-breeds on the St. Lawrence, and once tried a winter on the cod-banks of Newfoundland.

I meant to have speculated at Labrador, but found that the humidity of the place did not " convene" to me " no how," so I declined it. I struck out for the prairies, where I have killed mocassin snakes, and strangled gigantic cobras. I might have been a great naturalist ; but whenever I wanted to make a "notch" about anything, I found that I had whittled my pencils away, and my stock of paper had gone to supply me with wadding. Finding that I had lived fast, and had exhausted the novelties of the new world, I resolved to try the old, and see what there was to be seen before coming home to be made president. So, on the 12th May, 18 — , I sailed in the , Captain , for Liverpool. She was a noble ship of the first class of " liners," and her commander was as fine a fellow as ever trod plank ; but they both (captain and ship) went down in the equinox ot September, 18 — , and I need say no more on that head.

Liverpool struck me, as we went up the noble Mersey, by its mighty ranges of docks, its intricate forest of masts, its immense masses of warehouses. Everywhere arose the sounds of labour, and the bustle of business gave life and animation to all around. The town rises from the Mersey side by a gentle ascent, and its extreme boundary from the river may be said to reach from the village of Walton to Everton, and thence to Edge- Hill, beneath which the vast railway tunnel is bored. The Exchange and other buildings pleased me very much, as well from the compactness as from the elegance of the whole. St. George's Hall, a fine and stately building, then just completed, delighted me most. It occupies, as nearly as possible, the centre of a vast area, known as the Old Haymarket, Once there was a lunatic asylum on the site, which was changed into a barracks, that, in turn, gave way to this fine temple of the muses.

The vast frontage of the railway gives relief to the space. I spent but little time there, however, as I was anxious to be in France with all convenient speed. A day served me for a scramble over the Cheshire coast, and for a turn through the rapidly rising town of Birkenhead, which, with its new docks and store houses, threatens to make with Liverpool a division of trade. Soon wearied with all this, I hastened from thence back to Liverpool, and the same evening took my place by the 'Ill t,ONDl PKIN '!:■ railway for London, and off we went at a speed that, in a few hours, set me down at Euston Square. It was a wonderfully beautiful panorama through which I rapidly ran. Town, city, and hamlet, village, farm, and cottage, with rustic steeples peeping forth far over the woodlands in the pleasant distances.

There were noble mansions too, and stately woods and parks, where bounding deer rushed past in all the enjoyment of their freedom. Corn and pasture land, and broad meadows, all betokening plenty ; but, as compared to the plains and forests of the Western world, made no more than the well-laid-out grounds of a wealthy country gentleman would be, as compared to the undulating scenery I passed through. Having engaged a cab, with no small difficulty as to fare, I was safely installed at Long's Hotel. Before arriving in London, however, I had caught a glimpse of that thick and murky mass which for ever hangs above the city, denoting undeniably its whereabout, and looming like a giant's head was the noble dome of St. Paul's. With a sort of feverish haste I dashed through the parks of the west end, which I greatly admired — with much to find fault with in detail.

I was pleased, on the whole, with the gigantic mass of busy life that pervaded every street and alley of the crammed city. I visited the exhibitions and places of amusement, and was certainly gratified with the fine acting at one or two theatres, and with the magnificent music of the opera. I visited the Abbey and St. Paul's, and felt ashamed for the "coot" of a beadle, who let me into each of God's temples at less than theatre price. I may say, that they were well worth the money ; in fact, they were the cheapest exhibitions in London. From the Guildhall, where I saw the giants, and thought how much men are like children in their foibles, I turned towards London Bridge, in order to make my "progress" up the river. They have fine black-beetles of steamers, which tear along and vanish under the bridges, and which certainly burst now and then, as they do on the Ohio or the Mississippi.

I was immensely struck with the idea of building the House of Lords behind the corner of a vast bridge, which makes the other structure look dwarfish. To my thinking, there is no comparison between it and Somerset House. They ought to have made an elevation of stone, thirty or forty feet high, as a basement, and then have erected their superstructure upon that. It will, doubtless, look better when the bridge is taken down ; as, in fact, it has itself threatened to commit suicide, if they do not relieve its old bones. Returning by Whitehall, I saw everything at sixes and sevens, for they were then building a new frontage. I admired the Horse Guards ; but Nelson's Column caught my attention, more especially the coil of rope, which has a miraculous resemblance to the devil's tail ; but the crowning magnificence of the whole was the classic beauty of the three domes on the top of the National Gallery !

It is a question if the world can show anything so unique. I had visited most of these places alone, though I might have had those with me, had I chosen, who would have acted as willing guides. I had letters of business and introduction to deliver, which I now attended to ; and having despatched two notes to two several friends, who were going to accompany me in my continental perambulations, remained at home in the evening to receive them. The first came in time for dinner. He was a fine-grown, strapping fellow of about two or three and thirty, daring to absurdity, and as full of devilment as an Albany colt. He and I had shot bears before this at the " Salt-licks ;" but for some years we had not met, as he had been in Egypt, and finally resident in London for the last two years. His features were frank, bold, and regular ; his head of hair Apollonian ; but his frame was so angular, that no coat ever sat so gracefully upon him as the hunting blanket he used to wear.

His name was Ewart Dewbank, and he came from Connecticut. " Hemy Clay Crockett," said he to me, as he shook my hand; " I am glad to see you." " And I am glad to see you, Dewbank," said I, in turn, shaking him as heartily by the hand ; " sit down — put your feet under the mahogany. I can't promise you roast veni son " " Such as we used to broil, after I'd brought it to the tent in my blanket, many a time," interrupted my friend; "nothing like broiling slices upon the embers " "And falling to with a hunter's appetite, eh?" said I, and we both laughed heartily. " But where's Ralph Potter?" I asked ; " he ought to have been here by this." " He is here," said a voice as the door opened, and a tall, remarkably handsome young man, with wild dark eyes, pale cheeks, and hair tossed over a white forehead, entered the room.

We both started up to greet him, for he had been dear to us when we were away in the great heart of the mighty forest, thousands of miles from home. There was an affecting history connected with him, which had always most deeply affected us ; and though we were not particularly " soft," yet we were (I mean Dewbank and myself) both " of us men, and had men's feelings too. Of Ralph's history I may give the reader some insight into at a future time. After the first welcome was over, we sat down to as good a dinner as Long could put upon the table ; and as soon as this was cleared away, we began to talk over our campaign. " When do you propose to start ?" asked Dewbank. " To-morrow," I replied, " by the steamer for Boulogne. I have taken three places." " That will suit me," said Ralph ; " I have no arrangements to make."

" And I," added Ewart, "have made mine already." " That will do also," I said ; " and now mix your grog : I have some prime Monongahela in my case" — and I put it out — " and here are some cigars which were ripened in the sun of Cuba ;" and down we sat as cozy as it was possible for men to be. We had a wonderful " talk," as the Indians say ; and in its discursive course it embraced almost every topic, from the price of pot-ashes to the disposal of an empire, and making it so many republics. We spoke of our old adventures by field and flood, in the prairie or the mountain, in the forest and over the lake, and we remembered a few old companions who had been side by side with us in many a fray, when the war-whoop of the wild tribes rang fearfully in the night air. Works that are a combination of Literature and Art, have always carried with them a charm of attraction.

The beauty of a picture, the interest of a well-written description, depend upon the skill of the artist, and the powers of the writer ; when both are tried and proved, their labours are always welcomed. A blending of the pictorial and descriptive is now familiar to the public. We offer a work, that, while being the same, is yet essentially different. The effect of new opinions, is to act upon the public like the infusion of fresh blood into veins that have grown dry. Minds that are untrammelled by the prejudices of old customs, time-worn manners, and stereotyped ideas of things, must always carry with them a certain smack of originality. They must be striking, from the vivid impressions that scenes and places, belonging to generations two thousand years old, must make upon one who comes from a land, that, if young, is strong in its juvenility, as the infant Hercules in his cradle.

We have pretty well tested the mental powers of trans atlantic minds, and have placed their productions side by side with the loftiest of our own great men. The "American in Europe" will, we feel assured, be soon found upon friendly terms with the popular mind. He trusts to connect the glorious and romantic traditions of the past, by means of modern art, to the men and the manners of the present. Passing over a ground, each footstep of which wakes up the echoes of wondrous things, that sleep in oblivious forgetfulness till they are roused, he will have that to offer, in a superb and elegant form, which, sumptuously attractive, will meet the economical statistics of the day. The American (and his two friends), fresh from the forests of the New World— from her great rivers, her stupendous waterfalls, her trackless prairies, and her solemn lakes, — fresh from among Indian tribes, who display those remarkable traits of chivalry belonging to the loftiest order of civilized life, and the barbarism of antique grandeur,— comes among men and cities that belong to the ages of Gregory the Seventh, of Charlemagne, of the Nibelungen-lied, of the Troubadours, and the Crusades.

He is struck by the reverence we pay to the dry bones of the past. The present is to him the sphinx he seeks to unravel. Crime reduced to science, shows to him how civilization may be made to pander to depravity, on the one hand, — on the other, he sees men who belong to the peasant, the artisan classes, rise from their obscufity, become philoso phers, statesmen, and patriots. Intellect emerging from the hovel, gives law to the world. The American will reveal things that strike him as being peculiar and wonderful among men. He converses with the chiffonnier of Paris — he is not outdone in daring by the hunter of the Alps — he finds the laws of hospitality held sacred by a brigand of the Appenines — he mingles among the fierce fishermen of Calabria, having to a certain extent followed the track of Spartacus and Hannibal — he embarks in a Mediterranean pirate, — and thus having indicated a few of the leading features on which he grounds his ideas, he submits them with confidence to the reader, feeling assured that the Superb Illustrations, the. products of men whose names are well known, will be a guarantee for the intrinsic value of the Work.

The idea of one who was born and bred in a Eepublic, may not be without its value. Historic vestiges of former times, recollections of momentous eras now gone by, traditionary connections, fragmentary masses of decayed beauty and ruined grandeur, remind one, as they appear, of the traveller who suddenly beholds one of those exquisitely beautiful shafts standing solitary and alone in the desert, when the minds and hands of those who planned and erected it are gone to decay. Nought remains but the sands of the silent desert, — the wastes of the solemn past environing all. The Work will be published in Parts, on the 1st and 15th of the Month, Price ONE SHILLING. Each Part will contain FOUR highly finished STEEL ENGRAVINGS, from Original Designs, engraved by the most Eminent Artists of the day, and accompanied by ample DESCRIPTIVE LETTERPRESS, by HENRY CLAY CROCKETT, to be completed in about 30 Parts.

NOW PUBLISHING, A NEW EDITION OF THE WORKS OF WILLIAM HOGARTH, IN SIXPENNY NUMBERS. When complete, forming a series of 150 Engravings on Steel, in the First Style of Art, from the Original Paintings, and accompanied by the Popular and Valuable Illustrative Descriptions by the Rev. J. Trusler. To make the great English Public familiar with the Works of our National Painter, is the object of this publication. The nature of these Works renders them alike amusing companions and important moral teachers ; and while the evil-minded may be improved, the good may be rendered better, and the wise wiser, by the study of these extraordinary productions of an original genius. Indeed, HoGARTn's Works have, for some time, been acquiring popularity amongst the thinking classes of Great Britain ; and it required only a good Cheap Edition, to render them the inmates of every true British home.

Such universal popularity does their sterling merit deserve : and to this result has the Art of Engraving, as the handmaiden to Painting — the translator, and the herald— ministered, with all its wonderful powers of multiplication. For no longer must it be said, to the disparagement of British taste and sentiment, that while Shakspeare, our national poet, is in the hands of every one, the Works of Hogarth, our national painter, are but seldom seen, and known but by a comparative few. And most fitting is it, that the first moral artist in this or any other country should be presented in a style that will not only be admired by the most fastidious in judgment, but accessible to all who can afford to indulge their love of art on the most moderate terms. Each Number will contain Two Steel Engravings, and Four Pages of Lettcrpress, aud guaranteed to be completed in 72 Numbers.

LONDON: PUBLISHED (FOR THE PROPRIETORS) BY J. TALLIS AND CO. AND SOLD BY J. AINSWORTH, MANCHESTER. BRADFORD & CO., CORK. E. ALLEN, LEICESTER. J. MENZIES, EDINBURGH. H. GREER, BELFAST. R. MERCER, NOTTINGHAM. J. M'GLASHAN, DUBLIN. BROWN & CO., ABERDEEN. H. OLDLAND, BRISTOL. D. CHAMBERS, GLASGOW. J. BELL, BIRMINGHAM. W. MACKENZIE, GLASGOW. PHILLIPS, LIVERPOOL. AND ALL BOOKSELLERS. " You ask about Tom Trevor," said Ewart, in reply to a question I tad put. " Ah ! he was a strange fish certainly. There always was a certain singularity about Tom, which I never could well make out ; but I can now tell you all about him. Did you ever hear how Tom did the devil?" " No," we both replied. " Well, I'll tell it you ; fill your glasses, and light a fresh cigar ;" and having done this, and drawn our chairs closer, he began the story. f^ofo Œom Œrtuor Jjfo tfie WMW " You remember," began Dewbank, " my meeting with you at New York, after we had been for several months absent at the last hunting excursion, which was just over; and that I brought with me a good-looking, thin-faced, mischievous, witty fellow, whom I introduced as Tom Trevor, a portrait-painter from old England — quite a metropolitan, in fact."

" Yes," I replied, " I do. I shall never forget his devotion to cigars and gin-sling. I thought I was myself a pretty good hand at both the one and the other ; but the roof of Tom's mouth seemed plated, and his throat was like that of a crane." " With a stomach of gutta percha quality," added Ewart. " Well, you recollect too, that he was about the most amusing fellow you ever came near. Tom was one of the best hands at a comic song, a recitation, at imitating a saw, the squeaking of a pig, a cat on the house-top, with a dash of ventriloquism, / ever knew." " Yes," said I, " these qualifications struck me at once." " After Tom had completed some commissions which brought him to America, and made a panorama of the St. Lawrence, which is now lost in the sceneries of one of the London minor theatres, he returned to England, and settled here.

Tom was, to my thinking, a very idle sort of dog, after all, and would lounge on a sofa with his amber tipped hookah in his mouth, dreaming of Michael Angelo, or Correggio, by the hour, or distract himself about the black sparkling eyes of his cousin Kose Eichardson, as pretty a girl, too, as ever tripped with a tiny fairy foot across the ground. This, however, you may be sure, was not very productive; and while Tom's studio was more like an old lumber-room than anything else, his out-goings began to exceed his in-comings consider ably, and Tom began to deplore the sacrifice which he was making of his genius to an ungrateful world. " Tom had an old maiden aunt, living in the country with her niece Eose, upon whom he was almost totally dependent, and, to do her justice, the old lady was very liberal; but as it was expected that Tom would do something for himself, it was found that, as from quarter to quarter there was nothing but his aunt's allowance to depend upon, he grew more and more straitened in his means, after having, like the < Dick Swiveller' of Charles Dickens, nearly shut himself out of every available street and passage leading to his lodgings.

B "Tom loved his cousin Eose dearly, and lived much upon love, and the dear girl returned this love in an equal ratio ; but she also depended upon her aunt, so that their prospects were not particularly bright. Still Tom's wonderful flow of spirits did not altogether leave him; and seeing that portrait-painting was at a discount, Tom took to writing sonnets to his lady, and vaudevilles for an operatic theatre not far from his residence. The latter paid better than the former ; but Tom could not keep up the supply according to the demand, so that his occasional guinea did not avail him much. " Now, this portion of Tom's history I have from his own lips," continued Dewbank, emptying and refilling his cup, — " so that, as far as that goes, I vouch for the fact ; but you will think with me, that there must be a considerable mistake in it upon the whole, though Tom religiously believes it, but cannot himself account for a portion of it that puzzled me.

But of that anon. " Tom painted occasionally, though he had no order of any consequence to fulfil ; but he amused himself now and then with his brushes and colours, as if to relieve the monotony of being idle. He had upon his easel a fancy sketch (I suspected then it was his cousin Eose's likeness), which was drawn with amazing force and beauty ; but it was in a very incomplete state, and it was a matter of uncertainty whether it would ever be finished, as Tom, under the pressure of his ill luck, grew moodier, idler, and finally more despairing, in spite of his almost unconquerable good humour. Day by day saw Tom getting lower and lower. His rent was unpaid for several months, duns were unceasingly at his door, and at last he received peremptory orders from his landlady to leave the rooms in which he had become domesticated.

" This finished the cup of Tom's bitterness, for he did not know what to do. Already did destitution stare him in the face ; and the few friends he had, the companions of his idle or more dissipated moments, could give him no aid, however willing they might be. " Tom, on this particular day, was seated in a chair, gazing grimly at the few embers dying in the grate, his empty pipe was in his hand, and a pewter pot, thrown from its per pendicular, lying on the ground, showed it had just been emptied ; his palette and brushes, all useless, were flung into another corner. It was a picture, Tom said, of utter heart broken misery. He did not dare to apply to his aunt, for his conscience smote him that he had not behaved entirely a3 well as he ought to have done, and that some portions of the supplies he received from her did not always find their way by a legitimate channel.

Tom was liberal, fond of good cheer, and thoughtless; but he was the soul of honour. He would starve rather than make known his desperate condition. " Tom, as I have said, was gazing wistfully into the grate, thinking of his cousin and of his condition, when, drawing his hand distractedly over his brow, he muttered, ' The devil take it — what am I to do?' " Tom is certain that he not only used this expletive ; but went the length of using the said gentleman's name in a very wicked manner, when suddenly he heard a smart rap at his door. " It was only one knock, but of that imperious kind, Tom describes it, that it brought his heart at once to his mouth. " ' It's all over with me now,' thought Tom ; { they are coming to sell me up ;' and he cast his eyes around the room, when his glance fell upon the half-finished picture of his cousin Rose, and he felt, as his eyes became blinded with tears, as if everything good in life was leaving him.