Views a-foot; or, Europe seen with knapsack and staff ... With a preface by N. P. Willis

Part I. Views A-foot

; o r EUROPE SEEN WITH KNAPSACK AND STAFF, B. J. BAYARD TAYLOR. WITH A

Preface

BY N. P. WILLIS " Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way. And merrily heut the stile-a : A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.' Witttrt'* Title. TN TWO PARTS.

PART I NEW YORK

: WILEY AND PUTNAM. 161 BROADWAY. 1840. f-iitfreil according lo Act os Congress, in the ye_r 18-lfi by WILEY AND PUTNAM. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United Slates for the Southern District ot' New York. Ull.llAM n-MURN, PFINTFH TB1BUNB BVT1.0I Si_ ■> T B. SMITH, STERBOTYPBB, .'Hi Will UM STRttT

PREFACE.

BY N. P. WILLIS. The book which follows, requires little or no introduction. It tells its own story, and tells it well. The interest in it, which induces the writer of this preface to be its usher to the public, is simply that of his having chanced to be among the first appreciators of the author's talent — an appreciation that has since been so more than justified, that the writer is proud to call the author of this book his friend, and bespeak attention to the peculiar energies he has displayed in travel and authorship. Mr. Taylor's poetical productions while he was still a printer's apprentice, made a strong impression on the writer's mind, and he gave them their due of praise accordingly in the newspaper of which he was then Editor. Some correspondence ensued, and other fine pieces of writ ing strengthened the admiration thus awakened, and when the young poet-mechanic came to the city, and modestly an nounced the bold determination of visiting foreign lands— with means, if they could be got, but with reliance on manual labor if they could not — the writer, understanding the man, and seeing how capable he was of carrying out his manly and enthusiastic scheme, and that it would work unconuptingly for the iinprovement of his mind and cha racter, counselled him to go. He went — his book tells how successfully for all his purposes. He has returned, after two VI

PREFACE.

years' absence, with large knowledge of the world, of men and of manners, with a pure, invigorated and healthy mind, having passed all this time abroad, and seen and accomplished more than most travelers, at the cost of only $500, and this sum earned on the road. This, in the writer's opinion, is a fine instance of character and energy. The book, which records the difficulties and struggles of a printer's apprentice achieving this, must be interesting to Americans. The pride of the country is in its self-made men. What Mr. Taylor is. or what he is yet to become, can not well be touched upon here, but that it will yet be written, and on a bright page, is, of course, his own confident hope and the writer's confident expectation. The book, which is the record of his progress thus far, is now cordially com mended to the public, and it will be read, perhaps, more understandingly after a perusal of the following outline sketch of the difficulties the author had to contend with — a letter written in reply to a note from the writer asking for some of the particulars of his start and progress : To.

Mr. Willis — My dear Sir : — Nearly three years ago (in the beginning of 1S44) the time fin accomplishing mj long cherished desire of visiting Europe, seemed to arrive. A cousin, who had long intended going al. i mill. u,i to leave iii a few months, and although I was then surrounded by the m&st unfavorable circumstan ■ - I determined to accompany him, al \n hatevei hazard. 1 had still two years of my apprenticeship to serve out; I was en tirely without means, and m\ project was strongly opposed bj mj mends, as something too visionary to lie practicable.

PREFACE.

. VII A short time before, Mr. Griswold advised me to pub lish a small volume of youthful effusions, a few of which had appeared in Graham's Magazine, which he then edited ; the idea struck me, that by so doing, I might, if they should be favorably noticed, obtain a newspaper correspondence which would enable me to make the start. The volume was published ; a sufficient, number was sold among my friends to defray all expenses, and it was chari tably noticed by the Philadelphia press. Some literary friends, to whom I confided my design, promised to aid me with their influence. Trusting to this, I made arrangements for leaving the printing-office, which I succeeded in doing, by making a certain compensation for the remainder of my time. I was now fully confident, of success, feeling satisfied, that a strong will would always make itself a way.

After many applications to different editors and as many disap pointments, I finally succeeded, about two weeks before our departure, in making a partial engagement. Mr. Chandler of the United States Gazette and Mr. Patterson of the Satur day Evening Post, paid me fifty dollars, each, in advance for twelve letters, to be sent from Europe, with the probability of accepting more, if these should be satisfactory. This, with a sum which I received from Mr. Graham for poems published in his Magazine, put me in possession of about a hundred and forty dollars, with which I determined to start, trusting to future remuneration for letters, or if that, should fail, to my skill as a compositor, for I supposed I could at the worst, work my way through Europe, like the German handwerker. Thus, with another companion, we left home, an enthusiastic and hopeful trio. I need not trace our wanderings at length. Alter eight months of suspense, during which time my small mean? were

PREFACE.

entirely exhausted, I received a letter from Mr. Patterson, continuing the engagement for the remainder of my stay, with a remittance of one hundred dollars from himself and Mr. Graham. Other remittances, received from time to time, enabled me to stay abroad two years, during which I tra veled on foot upwards of three thousand miles in Germany, Switzerland, Italy and France. I was obliged, however, to use the strictest economy — to live on pilgrim fare, and do penance in rain and cold. My means several times entirely failed ; but I was always relieved from serious difficulty through unlooked-for friends, or some unexpected turn of fortune. At Rome, owing to the expenses and embarrass ments of traveling in Italy. I was obliged to give up my original design of proceeding on foot to Naples and across the peninsula to Otranto, sailing thence to Corfu and making a pedestrian journey through Albania aud Greece.

But the mahl object of my pilgrimage is accomplished : I visited the principal places of interest in Europe, enjoyed her grandest scenery and the marvels of ancient and modern art, became familiar with other languages, other customs aud other in stitutions, and returned home, after two years absence, willing now. with satisfied curiosity, to resume life in America. Yours, nii'-i sincerely, J. Bayard Ta\ lob. CONTENTS. PAGE

Chapter I

— The Voyage ........ 1 II.— A Day in Ireland ........ 8 III. — Ben Lomond andThe Highland Lakes ... 13 IV.— The Burns' Festival 23 V. — Walk from Edinburgh over the Border and arrival at London 29 VI.— Some of the " Sights" of London - ... 38 VII.— Flight through Belgium . . . . "~ . . 46 VIII.— The Rhine to Heidelberg 52 IX. — Scenes in and around Heidelberg . . . , 58 X— A Walk through the Odcnwald 67 XI. — Scenes in Frankfort — An American Composer — The Poet Freiligrath 73 XII. — A week among the Students 82 XIII. — Christmas and New Year in Germany ... 89 XIV. — Winter in Frankfort — A Fair, an Inundation and a Fire 94 XV.— The Dead and the Deaf— Mendelssohn the Composer 104 XVI. — Journey on Foot from Frankfort to Cassel . . 109 XVII. — Adventures among the Hartz .... 115 XVIII, — Notes in Leipsic and Dresden 125 XIX. — Rambles in the Saxon Switzerland ... 134 XX. — Scenes in Prague 143 XXI. — Journey through Eastern Bohemia and Moravia to the Danube 149 XXII.— Vienna 150 XXIII.— Up the Danube 171 XXIV.— The Unknown Student 178 XXV.— The Austrian Alps 183 XXVI.— Munich CONTENTS. X PAGE

CHAPTER XXVII

— Through Wurtemberg to Heidelberg . . 205 XXVIII— Freiburg and the Black Forest . 213 XXIX. — People and Places in Eastern Switzerland 221 XXX— Passage of the St Gothard and descent into Italy 231 XXXI— Milan 242 XXXII.— Walk from Milan to Genoa .... 247 XXXIII. — Scenes in Genoa, Leghorn and Pisa 252 XXXIV— Florence and its Galleries .... 262 XXXV.— A Pilgrimage to Vallombrosa .... 272 XXXVI— Walk to Siena and Pratolino — Incidents in Floence 281 XXXVII.— American Art in Florence .... 292 XXXVIII.— An Adventure on ffe Great St. Bernard— Walks around Florence 300 XXXIX. — Winter Traveling among the Appenines . . 308 XL.— Rome 319 XLI. — Tivoli and the Roman Campagna . 333 XLII. — Tivoli and the Roman Campagna (continued) 341 XL1I1. — Pilgrimage to Vaucluse and Journey up the Rhone 34' XI.1V. — Traveling in Burgundy— The Miseries of a Country Diligence 359 XI. \ -Poetical Scene, in Paris .... 465 XLVI. — A Qlimpac of .Vuriii.unU .... 372 XL VII, — Lorkhart, Bernard Barton and Croly — London Chimes and Greenwich Fair . 376 XLVIII — Homeward Bound — Conclusion . .

M ro FRANK TAYLOR, THESE RECORDS OF THE PILGRIMAGE, WHOSE TOILS AND ENJOYMENTS WE HAVE SHARED TOGETHER, ARE AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED, BY HIS RELATIVE AND FRIEND. VIEWS A. FOOT.

CHAPTER I. THE

V0VAGE. An enthusiastic desire of visiting the Old World haunted me from early childhood. I cherished a presentiment, amounting almost to belief, that I should one day behold the scenes, among which my fancy had so long wandered. The want of means was for a time a serious check to my anticipations ; but I could not content myself to wait until 1 had slowly accumulated so large a sum as tourists usually spend on their travels. It seemed to me that a more humble method of seeing the world would place within the power of almost every one, what has hitherto been deemed the privilege of the wealthy few. Such a journey, too, offered advantages for becoming acquainted with people as well as places — for observing more intimately, the effect of gov ernment and education, and more than all, for the study of hu man nature, in every condition of life.

At length I became pos sessed of a small sum, to be earned by letters descriptive of things abroad, and on the 1st of July, 1844, set sail for Liverpool, with a relative and friend, whose circumstances were somewhat similar to mine. How far the success of the experiment and the object of our long pilgrimage were attained, these pages will show. LAND AND SEA. There are springs that rise in the greenwoods heart, Where its leafy glooms are cast, And the branches droop in the solemn air. Unstirred by the sweeping blast. • » There are hills that lie in the noontide calm, On the lap of the quiet earth ; And, crown'd with gold by the ripened grain, Surround my place of birth. Dearer are these to my pining heart, Than the beauty of the deep. When the moonlight falls in a belt of gold On the waves that heave in sleep.

The rustling talk of the clustered leaves That shade a well-known door, Is sweeter far than the booming sound Of the breaking wave before. When night on the ocean sinks calmly down, I climb the vessel's prow, Where the foam-wreath glows with its phosphor light, Like a crown on a sea-nymph's brow. Ab'tve. through the lattice of rope and spar. The stars in their bounty burn : And lhe spirit longs to ride their ' And back to the loved return. They say that the sunset is brighter far AVhen it sink., behind the see . That the star r fire — Not thus they seem to me. Dearer the flash of the crimson west Through trees that my childhood knew. When the star of lore, with its silver lamp, Lights the homes of the tried ami true ! Could one live mi the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of " creature comforts," a sea-\o\ age would be delight ful.

To the landsman there is sublimity in the wild and ever varied forms of the ocean ; they fill his mind with living images ofa glory he had onlj dreamed of before. Rut we would have been willing to forego all this and get back the comforts of the shore. At New York we took passage in the second cabin of Oxford, which, ac usual in the Liverpool packets, consisted ■mall space ainitl-.liips, fitted up with rough, berths. The OOmmunioation with the deck is by an opt-U hatch way, whioh in storms ia oloaed down. As the passengers in this THE ATLANTIC. 3 cabin furnish their own provisions, we made ourselves acquainted with the contents of certain storehouses on Pine St. wharf, and purchased a large box of provisions, which was stowed away under our narrow berth. The cook, for a small compensation, took on himself the charge of preparing them, and we made ourselves as comfortable as the close, dark dwelling would admit.

As we approached the Banks of Newfoundland, a gale arose, which for two days and nights carried us on, careering Mazeppa like, up hill and down. The sea looked truly magnificent, al though the sailors told us it was nothing at all in comparison with the storms of winter. But we were not permitted to pass the Banks, without experiencing one of the calms, for which that neigh borhood is noted. For three days we lay almost motionless on the glassy water, sometimes surrounded by large flocks of sea-gulls. The weed brought by the gulf stream, floated around — some branches we fished up, were full of beautiful little shells. Once a large school of black-fish came around the vessel, and the car penter climbed down on the fore-chains, with a harpoon to strike one. Scarcely had he taken his position, when they all darted off in a straight line, through the water, and were soon out of sight.

He said they smelt the harpoon. We congratulated ourselves on having reached the Banks in seven days, as it is considered the longest third-part of the pas sage. But the hopes of reaching Liverpool in twenty days, were soon overthrown. A succession of southerly winds drove the vessel as far north as lat. 55 deg., without bringing us much nearer our destination. It was extremely cold, for we were but five de grees south of the latitude of Greenland, and the long northern twilights came on. The last glow of the evening twilight had scarcely faded, before the first glimmering of dawn appeared. I found it extremely easy to read, at 10 P. M., on the deck. We had much diversion on board from a company of Iowa In dians, under the celebrated chief " White Cloud," who are on a visit to England. They are truly a wild enough looking com pany, and helped not a little to relieve the tedium of the passage.

The chief was a very grave and dignified person, but some of the braves were merry enough. One day we had a war-dance on deck, which was a most ludicrous scene. The chief and two braves sat upon the deck, beating violently a small drum and howl ing forth their war-song, while the others in full dress, painted in a grotesque style, leaped about, brandishing tomahawks and spears, and terminating each dance with a terrific yell. Some of the men are very fine-looking, but the squaws are all ugly. They occupied part of the second cabin, separated only by a board partition from our room. This proximity was any thing but agreeable. They kept us awake more than half the night, by singing and howling in the most dolorous manner, with the accompaniment of slapping their hands violently on their bare breasts.

We tried an opposition, and a young German student, who was returning home after two years' travel in America, made our room ring with the chorus from Der Freisehutz — but in vain. They would howl and beat their breasts, and the pap poose would squall. Any loss of temper is therefore not to be wondered at, when I state that I could scarcely tun. in my berth, much less stretch myself out ; my cramped limbs alone drove oil' half the night's slumber. It was a pleasure, at least, to gaze on their strong athletic frames. Their massive chests and powerful limbs put to shame our dwindled proportions. One old man, in particular, who seemed die patriarch of the band, used to stand for hours on the quarter deck, sublime and motionless as a statue of Jupiter. An interesting incident occurred during the calm ot' which I spoke. began to be fearful we "ere doomed to remain there for ever, unless the spirits were invoked for a favorable wind.

Ac cordingly the prophet lit his pipe and smoked with great delib eration, muttering al] the while in a lq Then, h bottle of beer from the captain, he poured it solemnly over the stern of tbe vessel into the sea. Tin ., i nidi. cation I at the time, ami accordingly the next morning " '' '"' :i |M'' ■ rtioh the lowas attributed solely to the Prophet's incantation and Bolus' love of beer. Aftera n of alms and adverse winds, oo tbe "•were "" ""' Hebrides and though not within sight of land, tbe southern winds came to ua sin. bled ,v;,j, the "mea .I..W freshness" of the Irish bogs, so we oould al I ,7/ it. Thai day the wind became 'le, and the nexi mo FIRST SIGHT OF LAND. 5 we were all roused out of our berths by sunrise, at the long wished-for cry of " land !" Just under the golden flood of light that streamed through the morning clouds, lay afar-off and indistinct the crags of an island, with the top of a light-house visible at one extremity.

To the south of it, and barely distinguishable, so completely was it blended in hue with the veiling cloud, loomed up a lofty mountain. I shall never forget the sight ! As we drew nearer, the dim and soft outline it first wore, was broken into a range of crags, with lofty precipices jutting out to the sea, and sloping ofl' inland. The white wall of the light-house shone in the morning's light, and the foam of the breakers dashed up at the foot of the airy cliffs. It was worth all the troubles of a long voyage, to feel the glorious excitement which this herald of new scenes and new adventures created. The light-house was on Tory Island, on the north-western coast of Ireland. The Cap tain decided on taking the North Channel, for, although rarely done, it was in our case nearer, and is certainly more interesting than the usual route.

We passed the Island of Ennistrahul, near the entrance of Londonderry harbor, and at sunset saw in the distance the islands of Islay and Jura, off the Scottish coast. Next morning we were close to the promontory of Fairhead, a bold, precipitous head land, like some of the Palisades on the Hudson ; the highlands of the Mull of Cantire were on the opposite side of the Channel, and the wind being ahead, we tacked from shore to shore, running so near the Irish coast, that we could sec the little thatched huts, stacks of peat, and even rows of potatoes in the fields. It was a panorama : the view extended for miles inland, and the fields of different colored grain were spread out before us, a brilliant mo saic. Towards evening we passed Ailsa Crag, the sea-bird's within sight, though about twenty miles distant.

On Sunday, the 28th, w e passed the lofty headland of the Muil of Galloway and entered the Irish Sea. Here there was an oc currence of an impressive nature. A woman, belonging to the age, who had been ill the whole passage, died the morning before. She appeared to be of a very avaricious disposition, though this might indeed have been the result of self-denial, prac tised through filial affection. In the morning she was speechless, and while they were endeavoring to persuade her to give up her keys to the captain, died. In her pocket were found two parcels, containing forty sovereigns, sewed up w ith the most miserly care. It was ascertained she had a widowed mother in the north of Ireland, and judging her money could be better applied than to paying for a funeral on shore, the captain gave orders for com mitting the body to the waves.

It rained drearily as her corpse, covered with starred bunting, was held at the gangway while the captain read the funeral service ; then one plunge was heard, and a white object flashed up through the dark waters, as the ship passed on. In the afternoon we passed the Isle of Man, having a beautiful view of the Calf, with a white stream tumbling down the rocks into the sea ; and at night saw the sun set behind the mountains of Wales. About midnight, the pilot came on board, and soon aster sunrise I saw the distant spires of Liverpool. The Welsh coast was studded with windmills, all in motion, and the harbor spotted with buoys, bells and floating lights. How delightful it was to behold the green trees on the banks of the Mersey, and to know that in a few hours we should be on land ! About 11 o'clock we came to anchor in the channel of the Mersey, near the docks, and after much noise, bustle and confusion, were trans ferred, with our baggage, to a small steamboat, giving a parting cheer to the low, is, who remained on board.

On landing, I stood a moment to observe the scene. The bagga<_ . drawn bv a, mules and donkeys, were extraordinary ; men were going about crying "the celebrated Tralorum gingerbread!" which they c Itets; and s boy in the 1 Diversity dress, with ii and yellow knee-breeches, ivas running to the v barf to look at the Indians. At last the tailwere all loaded, the word was given to start, anil then, what a scene ensued ! Awav went the mules, the and the d away run men and women and children, l trunks, and boxes and bedding. The wind was blowing, and the dust whirled up dashed h eh Iter through the gate and started off on a hot race, dow pot. Two ame togethi r which *•■ " - of a Scotch family LANDING. 7 over the pavement ; but while the poor woman was crying over her loss, the tide swept on, scarcely taking time to glance at the mishap.

Our luggage was " passed" with little trouble ; the officer merely opening the trunks and pressing his hands on the top. Even some American reprints of English works which my com panion carried, and feared would be taken from him, were passed over without a word. I was agreeably surprised at this, as from the accounts of some travellers, I had been led to fear horrible things of custom-houses. This over, we took a stroll about the city. I was first struck by seeing so many people walking in the middle of the streets, and so many gentlemen going about with pinks stuck in their button-holes. Then, tho houses being all built of brown granite or dark brick, gives the town a sombre appearance, which the sunshine (when there is any) cannot dis pel. Of Liverpool we saw little. Before the twilight had wholly faded, we were again tossing on the rough waves of the Irish Sea.

Chapter II

A DAY IN IRELAND. On calling at the steamboat office in Liverpool, to take passage to Port Rush, we found that the fare in the fore cabin was but two shillings and a half, while in the chief cabin it was six times as much. As I had started to make the tour of all Europe with a sum little higher than is sometimes given for the mere passage to and fro, there was no alternative — the twenty-four hours'discom fort could be more easily endured than the expense, and as I expected to encounter many hardships, it was best to make a beginning. 1 had crossed the ocean with tolerable comfort for twenty-four dollars, and was determined to try whether England, where 1 had been told it was almost impossible to breathe without expense, might not also be seen by one of limited means. The fore cabin was merely a bai with a bench along one side, which was occupied dozen Irishmen in kneei lies and h ins.

Is we passed out of the Clarence Dock at 10 P. M., 1 went below and managed to get a seat ou one end of the bench, when I spent the nigbl in sleepless misery. The Irish bestowed themselves about tb i the} best could, for there was no light, and \ the Morphean di pn their breathing gave toke msi The nexi morning was mistj and rainy, but I preferred walk ing the deck and drj ing de the chin to sitting in the and through the whole sorer were tossed about ven ul ly in the North Chanm ' In the astern we stopped at Lame, ,. littl u in ni thi - | | no;ir. and high green mouu beautiful panoramii ,n C(1;lst. \i.un „, IRISH PEASANT-. 9 the precipices are of the same formation as the Causeway ; Fair head, a promontory of this kind, is grand in the extreme. The perpendicular face of fluted rock is about three hundred feet in height, and towering up sublimely from the water, seemed almost to overhang our heads.

My companion compared it to Niagara Falls petrified ; and I think the simile very striking. It is like a cataract falling in huge waves, in some places leaping out from a projecting rock, in others descending in an unbroken sheet. We passed the Giant's Causeway after dark, and about eleven o'clock reached the harbor of Port Rush, where, after stumbling up a strange old street, in the dark, we found a little inn, and soon forgot the Irish Coast and everything else. In the morning when we arose it was raining, with little prospect of fair weather, but having expected nothing better, we set out on foot for the Causeway. The rain, however, soon came down in torrents, and we were obliged to take shelter in a cabin by the road-side. The whole house consisted of one room, with bare walls and roof, and earthen floor, while a window of three or four panes supplied the light.

A sire of peat was burning on tho hearth, and their breakfast, of potatoes alone, stood on the table. The occupants received us with rude but genuine hospitality, giving us (he only seats in the room to sit upon; except a rickety bedstead that stood in one corner and a small table, there was no other furniture in the house. The man appeared rallicr intelligent, and although he complained of the hardness of their lot, had no sympathy with O'Connell or the Repeal movement. We left this miserable hut, as soon as it ceased raining — and, though there were many cabins along the road, few were better than this. At length, after passing the walls of an old church, in the midst of older tombs, we saw the roofless towers of Dun luce Castle, on the sea-shore. It stands on an isolated rock, ! perpendicularly two hundred feet above the sea, and con nected with the cliffs of the mainland by a narrow arch of ma sonry.

On the summit of the cliffs were the remains of the buildings where the ancient lords kept their vassals. An old man, who takes care of it for Lord Antrim, on whose property 2* it is situated, showed us the way down to the castle. We walked across the narrow arch, entered the ruined hall, and looked down on the roaring sea below. It still rained, the wind swept furi ously through the decaying arches of the banqueting hall and waved the long grass on the desolate battlements. Far below, the sea foamed white on the breakers and sent up an unceasing boom. It was the most mournful and desolate picture I ever beheld. There were some low dungeons jet entire, and rude stairways, where, by stooping down, 1 could ascend nearly to the top of one of the towers, and look out on the wild scenery of the coast.

Going back, I found a way down the cliff, to the mouth of a cavern in the rock, which extends under the whole castle to the sea. Sliding down a heap of sand and stones, I stood under an arch eighty feet high ; in front the breakers dashed into the en trance, slinging the spray halfway to the roof, while the sound rang up through the arches like thunder. It seemed to me the haunt of the old Norsemen's sea-cods ! We lest the road near Dunluce and walked along the smooth beach to the cliffs that surround the Causeway. Here we ob tained a guide, and descended to one of the caves which can be entered from the slice. ( Ippoeite the entrance a bare rock called Sea Gull Kl". ria - out of the sea like a church s eeple. Thereof at first was low, but we shortly came to a branch that open the sea, where the arch was forty-six feet in height.