Eastern pilgrims

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Chapter I. London To Munich

THE Holy Land seems to be considered quite the tour for a gentleman. " And a strong lady may accompany her husband," says Dr. Macleod. So when two friends and myself resolved, in the summer of 1868, to absent ourselves for a year from home, for the purpose of visiting scenes endeared to us by so many hallowed associations, great was the consternation expressed by our friends at the idea of three ladies venturing on so lengthened a pilgrimage alone. " Do you think they will ever come back? They are going amongst Mohammedans and barbarians," said some, who knew of our intention. But for what reason ? The means of communication are now so much improved, the art of providing for a traveller's comfort is carried to such perfection, that any woman of ordinary

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prudence (without belonging to the class called strong-minded) can find little difficulty in arranging matters for her own convenience. And if our education does not enable us to protect ourselves from the influence of such dangerous opinions as, it is said, we shall hear in the varied society with which it may be our lot to mingle, what is that education worth ?

But before going further, let me introduce the reader to our party. Three is a very manageable number. We are all sisters in affection, though only two are so by birth. We are provided with the best of all auxiliaries — viz : a knowledge of the French, German, and Italian languages. A courier we do not want, as without his services we are in a much more advantageous position for gathering information. We agree to a division of labour. Violet makes herself responsible for the management at hotels, and for the direction of the party in general ; Edith examines the accounts ; Agnes studies the guide-book, and sketches routes for the approval of her companions. Violet is gifted with prudence and liveliness ; Edith is quick at arithmetic ; whilst Agnes is very happy to benefit by the practical activity of her friends. But some preparations must be made beforehand. The most useful kind of trunk is that made by Edward Cave,

PREPARATIONS FOR OUR JOURNEY. . 3

Wigmore Street. It is a basket, covered with strong tarpaulin, needs no extra cover, and is at once light and impervious to rain. For short journeys, a small leather portmanteau called " The Gladstone," is most suitable, as it holds more than would appear at first sight, and will strap easily on the back of a mule. Each traveller buys a pair of mackintosh sheets ; they cost a guinea, and will be invaluable in the tents. A portable bath is only unnecessary lumber, the cost of carrying it being more than the price of a substitute in any good hotel. Side saddles are to be sent for us straight to the Peninsular and Oriental Company's agent at Alexandria : riding costumes of white serge are purchased at Nicoll's, and with Murray's excellent guide-book to Syria in our hands, we feel that we are tolerably well provided for.

On a dull morning of August, 1868, we bade farewell to London. It is sad to drive along these streets, and wonder if we shall ever behold them again. Before our year has passed, what changes will take place in the State, in the Church, and in the circle of our friends ! The Irish Church Establishment will be a thing of the past, that is certain. Mr. Gladstone will probably guide the nation's counsels. Society will whirl on its way without missing us much, and we shall all be a year nearer

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eternity. But what of that? In seeking to know more of our Fathers universe, may we not rise to broader conceptions of Himself? and may we not arrive at a truer estimate of our own little sphere of action, if we learn to realize how many struggles and aspirations go forth towards objects of which we have hardly even learnt the names ?

After a somewhat stormy passage, we reached Ostend. Owing to Custom-house attentions, we lost the train, and waited two hours at a most uninteresting station. We reached Bruges at half-past six. At night our slumbers were disturbed by the heavy roll of ponderous Flemish waggons on the ill-paved street, which sounded a rugged bass to the sweet treble of the belfry chimes. After visiting the Cathedral, and feasting our eyes on one of Michael Angelo's inimitable statues, and on Van Dyck's painting of St. Rosalia, we took the train for Ghent, drove through the celebrated Marche au Vendredi, the old meeting-place of Ghent's noisy burghers, to the Hotel de Vienne.

In the church of St. Bavon is a beautiful painting by Rubens' master, Otto Venius, which is already familiar to us as an engraving. We were not so greatly pleased with the " Adoration of the Lamb." The execution of this celebrated work is certainly inimitable, but to represent the Deity in the dress

GHENT AND LUXEMBOURG.

of a pope, with a crown in which gems glitter lying at His feet, is surely the fruit of a very perverted imagination. The scenery is wonderful as an achievement of human genius, but how paltry does it all seem when we think of the ineffable glory of Him who made heaven and earth and sea and all that is therein !

Our cicerone informed us that the chronic complaint of Ghent exists, as it did in days of yore, in the want of work from the high price of cotton. The town is intersected by canals, and presents a curious mixture of ancient houses, with their gable ends turned towards the street, and modern houses shining with white paint and green blinds. In the evening we attended service at the Beguinage. It is a large enclosed space, surrounded by the little houses of the beguines ; the Convent, or Mother- House, occupying one end. The sisters can leave to be married, and return in widowhood. Their singing was so sweet and solemn, that we felt almost ashamed not to join in their devotions. After the distribution of a wafer, each sister went off into a quiet ecstasy, and repeated prayers on a rosary with exemplary speed.

Next day we went to Luxembourg. The railway runs for some distance through the forest of Ardennes, which afforded us lovely peeps of wood-

EASTERN PILGRIMS.

land scenery, rich foliage, luxuriant meadow-grass, glassy streams, and gurgling rills, with now and then a bold cliff surmounted by a bright shrub, reminding us somewhat of Dunkeld and Killiecrankie.

We were greatly surprised and delighted with the romantic beauty of Luxembourg. The upper town is built on a steep hill, surrounded by treeplanted ramparts. Below is the lower town, nestling in two wooded valleys, through which flows the little river Else. Far as the eye can reach is a series of serried crags, peering out of the wood like giant columns, and scarcely to be distinguished from those solid piles of masonry which bid defiance to the invader. Every inequality of ground has been taken advantage of for the purposes of defence ; and the whole — wood, rock, and water — blend together in a loveliness which must be seen to be conceived. The entrance to the upper town is through two lines of strong fortifications, the inner line being the higher and more formidable of the two. An undulating valley between them is sown with potatoes. Like the velvety fur on the paw of a cat, it seems all very fair, but how soon might the Demon of War strew the scene with desolation ! However, it does look well in time of peace to see a warrior's hand gloved.

TREVES.

On Sunday we attended service in the Lutheran Church, and thought that it must be a sleepy congregation which has only one service a day. On Monday we went to Treves, saw its Roman remains, and heard interesting descriptions of the Holy Coat, made of the bark of trees and camel's hair, and supposed to have been worn by our Saviour before His crucifixion. The old man who showed us over the Cathedral was very talkative. He had lost four brothers at Waterloo, and descanted much on what he had heard of the excellencies of Scotc]| mutton and caper sauce. We threatened him with another French invasion, and he teased us about the Highlanders' dress, saying there was such a thing as progress.

At Treves we saw the folly of trusting implicitly to a guide-book. The water of the river was too low for the usual steamboat, and we had no fancy for making a roundabout railway journey. So we engaged a carriage, and had a two days' drive along the banks of the Moselle, which winds its bright way amongst vine-covered hills. We spent a night at Alf, where a village-fair had just been held, and where our slumbers were disturbed by loud singing, quarrelling, and a post-horn blowing. Violet mistook the landlord for a waiter, and offered him a franc, which he grandificly bestowed on his slat-

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ternly housemaid. At Kocheren we were more fortunate. Some musicians were visiting the little rustic hostelry, and we spent quite a German evening in listening to their pleasant strains, the juge de paix of the district accompanying them on the violin. We only wish such simple manners were more cultivated in our own country.

Next day the steamboat and railway brought us to Ems. Omnibuses from the different hotels, and several carriages, were in waiting at the station. %

a Let us take a carriage," said Violet, " for as we have several weeks to spend here, it will enable us better to see which is the best hotel, and where we are likely to get good rooms."

" Oh ! yes," answered Agnes, " if we enter an omnibus, we must go where it takes us, and it will be much more comfortable if we have not to change our apartments."

We drove to the Hotel des Quatre Saisons, and found it full; then to the Hotel d'Angleterre, where we soon established ourselves ; not in the hotel itself, but in its principal dependency, the Quatre Tours, or old Kurhaus. And we had indeed cause to congratulate ourselves, for we had found the airiest situation and most commanding view in a somewhat confined watering-place.

EMS.

Ems is situated on the "banks of the Lahn, in a very narrow valley. The only level space for walking is planted with trees, under which the fashionable world promenades in the morning and evening. During the day the great heat confines most people indoors. An excellent band plays in front of the Trinkhalle during the hours for drinking ; and here many German ladies bring their knitting. In the Kursaal the gaming-tables drive a brisk trade ; whilst once a week those who are not very anxious about their " cure " indulge in a dance. But the greatest charm of Ems is a donkey ride. Our donkeys were named Fix, Fritz, and Bertha. Fix's previous rider was a Russian count, who played away a great deal of money, and had to send for more to take him home. Which was the greater donkey ? It was very amusing to hear the donkey-drivers talk. They had no respect for their king. " Only fancy," said one of them, "he has been here two seasons, and has never mounted a donkey once !"

" But your king is a very brave soldier," said Violet; "how could you expect him to ride a donkey ? It would not be dignified."

"Oh! but the Empress of Russia — she is the good woman — she and thirty of her suite rode on donkeys twice a day, to drink coffee in a rustic

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arbour on the Marlberg. You say you have not got such good donkeys in England, suppose you take these three home with you on the railway."

" Well, we may think of it," said Agnes ; u but I fear our friends will say we are six."

Our evening walks were very pleasant. We seldom entered the Kursaal, but walked about by moonlight under the trees. One night, whilst strolling home, Edith remarked that our path was something like the journey of life, a clear light thrown on it from above, every now and then crossed by a shadow ; and at the end is darkness, represented by a thick grove of trees. But we knew that, having passed through the darkness, we should find a resting-place.

" Teach me to live that I may dread The grave as little as my bed."

May we enter the shadow-land with as little fear as we did the grove !

There were many Russian visitors in Ems. The Empress of Russia once stayed at the Hotel d'Angleterre ; and after she left, crowds of ladies came to kiss the chair on which she had sat. The Viceroy of Egypt seems to be a great favourite

SIMPLE EXPEDIENT.

out of his own dominions, on account of his liberality. The Queen of Holland paid a ten days' visit to Ems whilst we were there; and several feeble attempts at illumination were made in her honour.

The hills became clothed in their autumn tints before we left. Brown, green, and gold were more brightly blended than we had ever yet seen them. But all this wondrous beauty, though it gives such exquisite delight, is the beauty of decay, like the hectic cheek and brilliant eye of consumption. How lovely the Marlberg looked in its russet dress ! It was like some characters, that never show the half that is in them till a cold wind blows.

When we had resolved to leave Ems, Violet obtained from the landlord a list of the hotels he could recommend in the towns we were about to visit, intending to modify it according to the advice of those we might afterwards meet. She also requested the concierge either to write or telegraph to the hotel at Frankfort for rooms, as nothing is so wearing out as standing waiting in a confusion of fresh arrivals, or being detained an hour after the fatigue of a long journey, until one's apartments can be arranged. This simple expedient saved us

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much annoyance. A landlord never gives his best rooms to those who come without ' previous notice. He rightly judges that to them comfort and tidiness are not essential matters. How can any one expect hard-working servants to make the same preparation in ten minutes, and at a late hour, as they would have made had they known earlier in the day ? The expense of the two plans is almost the same.

Edith experienced no difficulty on German railways. After delivering our luggage to the officials, she did not require to think more about it, till, having arrived at our destination, and entered the omnibus of the hotel we had chosen, she delivered the receipt to the commissionaire, and saw our boxes transported to the roof. And the gift of a franc always supplied us with a man to carry our rugs and bags. How much better than being in bondage to a courier !

Agnes had a good idea that Peter the Hermit's task was not a very difficult one. Had we accepted all the offers we received of company to Jerusalem, what a caravan we should have had ! The principal attraction for Catholics seems to be our Saviour's grave ; but as we were not taught in our youth to worship any particular spot of earth, we can hardly understand what benefit they expect to derive from

NUREMBERG.

visiting it. Our Saviour is risen, and the distance is short indeed which separates Him from a believing soul.

From Frankfort we went to Nuremberg. At first sight of this famous town, we all expressed our disappointment. We first perceived some spires, like tall and slender gasometers, over which the contents of a huge ink bottle might have been poured ; and then a number of smoky-looking houses, with pitch-black slate roofs. We drove through a massive gateway, and it seemed as if two seconds had transported us back to the clays of our fighting forefathers. The town seems the very beau-ideal of a city of feudal times. Our hotel was situated on the banks of the river, just opposite the Rag Market. Had we taken a pleasure sail on its flowing waters, what a shower of refuse we should have got from the windows of the houses overlooking its channel ! Violet fancied herself transported to the Cowgate of Edinburgh; and, indeed, the Cowgate could not have been very different in its palmy days.

But, Nuremberg, we did thee injustice ! A stroll through the streets excited our admiration of thy massive architecture. What strange ideas of magnificence people had in former days! Fancy attic windows with nine Ionic pillars round each, and

EASTERN PILGRIMS.

gables with tall Gothic pinnacles from each projection. W e strolled out at one of the tremendous holes through the fortifications, which are called gates, crossed a bridge over the gigantic moat which surrounds the city, and found ourselves among beautiful shady walks. But what a gloomy existence to be pent up within these thick walls !

The beautiful churches of St. Sebald and St. Lawrence are used for Protestant worship, although the decorations of Catholic times are preserved intact. On Sunday we were reminded of Edinburgh by seeing the people hurrying to church under dripping umbrellas.

On Tuesday morning we sent our heavier luggage to Vienna, and took train for Munich. We travelled in the same carriage with a German artist, of some celebrity, who, with his wife, was going to Florence for the winter. Our eight hours' journey was beguiled by much interesting conversation. With one remark of the gentleman's Agnes thoroughly agreed — viz : that modern education (at least, of the fashionable kind,) tends to degrade men from the high ideal for which God created them. Violet informed them of the agitation in England with regard to the admission of women to the franchise. This made the gentleman very

RUBENS' " LAST JUDGMENT."

angry. He wrote out some verses of Schiller's for our edification, and seemed to think they should settle the matter.

" Oh !" said his wife, u such an idea never enters the mind of a German woman."

But soon, her husband having exhausted his arguments, and seeking repose in the arms of Morpheus, she gave a quiet look to see that he did not hear her, and then whispered —

" You are quite right, we German women are far too much in subjection " (viel zu unterthanig) .

In the old Pinakothek of Munich is a very fine collection of Rubens. Rubens here shines more than he does in Paris, but does not come up to what he is at Antwerp. We were much impressed with his " Last Judgment." Amongst the ascending figures on the right are two friends who seem to be recognising each other. Their mother, as we supposed her to be, is on the other side, and stretches out her hands to them in an agony of despair. The descending figures are perfectly thrilling in the horror they inspire. Demons clutching people by the hair, and carrying them off in triumph, make one exclaim involuntarily, "Keep me from such a fate !"

Rubens is not always pleasing. The hand that painted the " Descent from the Cross," should

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never have been employed on any but the purest subjects ; and when pictures do not appeal to our best feelings, it is a waste of time to look at them. It is a great mistake to paint horrible scenes. Painting, like poetry, should seek to elevate our minds ; and what elevation is there in a lion killing a man, or in Bethlehem mothers biting the arms and scratching the faces of the soldiers who slaughter their children ?

To look at Rubens' painting after Albert Diirer's, is like reading Byron after George Herbert. And yet, with all his wonderful powers of vivid colouring, he is of the earth, earthy. Even his celestial spirits have anything but glorified bodies. Now, Guido Reni is, if one may so speak, heavenly. His every touch has a tinge of the blue sky about it, and he is seldom guilty of mixing up mythological and sacred subjects, which is so profane ; or mythological and historical, which is so puzzling. Each of his paintings is a simple idea, which the mind can take in and contemplate without distraction.

We wondered why Violet was so much more charmed with pictures of the Madonna than with those of the Saviour. Perhaps because she could enjoy them without so much fear of profanity. How can or how dare any one paint the divine Jesus? "We shall see Him as He is," and the

RUBENS.

highest effort of human genius will then appear worse than child's play ; or, rather, will be forgotten. And when a man like Rubens could paint the " Crucifixion " and " Castor and Pollux" equally well, may we not suspect that both to him were alike mythological?

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Chapter II. Munich To Constantinople

HEN we left for Innsbruck, Violet declared l f that her eyes were tired, and that she could scarcely believe Munich to be a German town. The last we saw of the beautiful city was the arm of the colossal statue, " Bavaria," outstretched above a wood. The railway from Kufstein to Innsbruck runs along the banks of the Inn, through a valley lined on either side with densely wooded and wildly serried mountains, which autumn had just begun to streak with brown. The air at Innsbruck was very cool and refreshing. A strong wind was blowing down the Brenner Pass. We attended English service in the saloon of the hotel. It is a room gaily fitted up for concerts, and its windows command a fine view of the mountains. " Heaven and earth are full of the majesty of Thy glory." The lofty, rugged peaks, the woods just turning yellow, the moving mist, everything contributes to

DRIVE TO ST, JOHANN.

exalt our ideas of Nature. This is the great highway between Germany and Italy. "The south wind and sirocco," says a German professor, " are made to pay tribute at the snowy frontier of the Brenner."

The road to Schonberg runs through a succession of beautiful views — now through a dell quite covered with lofty pines, now rounding an eminence that overlooks the channel where the Sill rushes foaming from its lofty cradle. Across the torrent is the Brenner railway. Workmen were repairing it, and fastening the earth on the sloping mountain side with wisps of straw. As we returned to Innsbruck, the setting sun gilded some of the mountain tips with rosy light, like lamps hung high on the roof of some vast cathedral.

But most delightful was our drive from Worgl to St. Johann. The country reminded us somewhat of the road between Macroom and Killarney, and somewhat of Ventnor. It is very richly wooded ; the light green of the mountain ash has a delicious effect amongst the sombre pines, whilst now and then dark red rocks peer out of the forests. Above tower the chalk ridges. The bright green grass, the purling streams at our feet, the sunny sky and cool mountain air, all matle us forget how far we had travelled. Every now and then a rude crucifix

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adorned the road, to which our driver made a most respectful bow. We passed many processions of cows, pigs, sheep, and goats returning to their winter stalls from the heights where they had grazed during the summer. Some of the cows were decorated with bells, flowers, and ferns tastefully arranged. The herd, who had lived in a chalet beside them, walked first in national costume, with flowers and feathers in his cap, and in his hand a bottle of schnapps, of which he offered us a taste.

In the clean little inn at St. Johann we enjoyed an excellent dinner of soup, snow-reared "blue," trout, chicken, and Tyrolese cakes. Never did we meet with more epicurean luxuries or with more friendly entertainers. The people stood at the door, and wished us a prosperous journey as we went oft

Nothing could exceed the beauty of our next day's drive. Richly coloured wooded hills, surmounted by bold cliffs that looked sometimes like the battlements of a castle, and deep green dells, skirted the valley on either side. This valley becomes gradually narrower, till it enters the pass of Strub, that gate of the Tyrol which was so heroically defended against the Bavarians in 1805.

We thought Lofer the most romantically-situated

AUSTEIANS AND PRUSSIANS.

village we had as yet seen. It is surrounded by a circle of hills, each a study of itself. The drive by Unken, Reichenbach, and amongst the ghost -like pines by moonlight to Salzburg, will not soon be forgotten. But the varied loveliness of the scenery around Salzburg, Berchtesgaden, the Konigsee, the lakes of Fuschl, St. Wolfgang, the Traunsee, the environs of Ischl, that most enchanting of spas, and Linz, would take too long to describe.

On board the Danube steamer we had our first glimpse of Austrian society. They seem a goodnatured, kindly race, but are rather effeminate and fond of luxury, though somewhat more refined in manners than their Northern rivals. We were surprised to learn that the Prussians had come in 1866 so near Vienna as the town of Stein.

" Do you not dislike the Prussians?" we asked of a gentleman.

"Oh, no," he answered. "They used our own railways and every means of transport they could get. They were here before we were aware ; but it is all forgotten now. They are our brothers, and at our last shooting matches we shook hands with them as if we had never quarrelled."

It strikes a stranger as very singular that on the Danube there is a total absence of all attempts at ship-building. To see such splendid wood floating

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down so mighty a stream makes one also expect to hear the clink of hammers. The villages and piers along the banks are insignificant. Even the landingplace at the metropolis would hide its diminished head if placed beside the quay of Ryde. It may be pled as an excuse for this want of industry that the lower course of the river does not belong to Austria ; but how long would Englishmen have remained without so valuable a possession ?

Our quarters were in the old or inner town of Vienna. Unlike other cities, the centre is the fashionable part, and is distinguished by its high houses and narrow streets. There is no pavement, and one must pay particular attention to the work of avoiding carriage-wheels. Round the inner town runs the old glacis, now metamorphosed into the Ring Strasse, and lined with handsome houses. The suburbs appeared to us an infinitely preferable place of residence ; but we took things as we found them, and consoled ourselves by occupying an apartment at the top of the house, where we could at least get a few whiffs of fresh air. Here we remained a month, Agnes indulging in a slight indisposition. We scarcely felt that we were in a hotel, every one connected with the establishment was so friendly, taking an interest in our welfare which was courteous without being intrusive.

HOTEL FRANKFORT.

The waiter who served on our floor amused us much. He was very anxious to learn English, but had little opportunity of practising what he knew, as our countrymen are not yet much acquainted with the excellent cuisine and attentive management of the Hotel Frankfort. We lent him a conversation book; and one morning his anxiety on the subject led him to say,

" If the Herrschaft will always speak German, how am I ever to learn English ? "

" Very well," said Violet, "we will speak German one day, and English the next."

The first " English " day we ordered dinner, and had not the least conception of what we were to get until it came. He had made considerable progress before we left.

We occupied much of our time preparing for our further journey. Violet laid in a good stock of insect powder, and provided herself also with a small pistol — to fire it off ! We fancied that broadbrimmed straw hats would prove the most efficient protection from the sun; and, after a diligent search, found some in a small shop in the Seiler Gasse.

When we had taken our tickets for the last service of the season, Agnes began to be a little apprehensive.

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" True, the steamboats are said to be excellent ; but we are going out of civilization, and your hitherto admirable management may fail us," said she.

Perhaps this fear was excited by the dread for our safety expressed by a Viennese lady. However, the tickets were already taken. We relinquished the idea of visiting Pesth, as Agnes was only able to travel the day before the vessel started. This she greatly regretted, as she disliked beginning the journey on Sunday. After attending service in the well-filled Evangelical church, we started from an exceedingly handsome station at two o'clock.

Madame Juanita, a young married lady from Bucharest, was our only companion. She had spent the winter with her parents at Nice, and was returning home from Paris, whence she had imported the last fashion in dress and manners. Her native language was Roumanian, which sounds something like Italian, but she spoke French and German well. Some scraps of her conversation may be recalled :