Mary and I go to Europe. An unbiased account of a little journey in the world during the months of June, July, and August, 1896.

Front matter

MARY AND I

EUROPE

Published By

Preface

The best books I have read had prefaces. This is no reason why the present volume should have, but it gives the reader more for his money. It may also aid in dispelling the delusion some of my friends have in mind, namely, that my wife ■went with me. I shall speak of my wife often. I call her the "sunshine of my life," because she makes it hot for me. She is part of the book, really the greater part. So when I use the pronoun "I," it means Mary, except when I am in Paris, or pursuing my anatomical or physiological studies. It would not be proper for her to be present at those times.

Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his little book on "Education," (Moral, Intellectual and Physical,) says something like this : "It is a very false idea that benefit arises from cramming history, dates and the like into children's minds. Teach them something that will be of practical value in life. Tell them where their Liver or Eustachian Tubes are situated. They will have more use for the latter knowledge than for the former." Acting on this suggestion, I propose to tell in plain language, not Shakespearian in its style, what we saw. I shall omit all mathematical problems, all histories of war and conquest, all full descriptions of cathedrals, churches and temples, except so far as may be unavoidable. These have been so often and so much better written up than I can do, who am unaccustomed to making books, that the reader will find it to his advantage to hunt up any reference I may make to anything that attracts his interest, if he deems it worth the while to follow the subject, and thus obtain a clearer idea of the situation than I give. The book is written for the entertainment and amusement of our friends. An unvarnished tale, and simple account of our personal experiences in the first and only vacation during my professional life. Some one has said "Life is only worth living for the Summer Vacation." I have found this true. If you doubt me, go as I did.

A. FILLER, Doctor.

Recovery Hall, Hudson, N.Y., 1808.

P. S. Misspelling is due to the machine. Errors of grammar, capitals and punctuation to ignorance.

Contents

PAGE.

PREFACE 7

CHAPTER I. Preparations 13

CHAPTER H.

At Sea. 22

CHAPTER HI.

At Sea 42

CHAPTER IV.

Gibraltar 52

CHAPTER V.

Genoa 60

CHAPTER VI.

Pisa 70

CHAPTER VII.

Rome 82

CHAPTER VIII.

Naples 94

Pompeii 98

CHAPTER IX.

Florence 103

CHAPTER X.

Venice 108

Lido 115

CHAPTER XL

Milan 118

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

Munich 135

CHAPTER XIV.

Vienna 145

CHAPTER XV.

Dresden 155

CHAPTER XVI.

Berlin 160

Potsdam 167

Sans Souci 168

CHAPTER XVII.

Frankfort-on-the-Main 172

Heidelburg 174

Mayence 176

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Rhine 179

Cologne 182

CHAPTER XIX.

Amsterdam 186

Haarlem igo

The Hague 192

Scheveningen 194

CHAPTER XX.

Antwerp jg6

CHAPTER XXI.

Brussels 201

CHAPTER XXII.

Paris 206

Versailles 214

CHAPTER XXIII.

London 215

Kew 223

Hampton Court 223

Windsor 224

Eton 224

CHAPTER XXIV.

Homeward Bound 227

Copyright by

H. LYLE SMITH, M. D.,

Hudson, N. Y.

October,

MARY AND I GO TO EUROPE.

CHAPTER I.

PREPARATIONS.

"It is the unexpected that happens."

J)T has always been a mystery to me how I, a ^ country doctor, ever decided to go to Europe. I thought like many others, I could not be spared ; that the environment about me and of which I thought I was the axis would cease to revolve ; that the whole of Creation would stop, and I should be missed. I have found out otherwise. No man's feet are so large but another's shoes can fill the impressions made in the sands of life's shore, and often fit better than the originals.

I had dug along, following my professional calling with more or less of success for many years ; now and then taking a day off, but never a vacation in the true sense of the word. Sometimes curing a case, now and then making a mistake in diagnosis, or treatment, or both, filling up witli tears and regrets to the family v/hat I felt, and they did not know. I grew tired. The everlasting tales of woe became irritations, and while now and then the inonotony was broken by some one paying a long over-due account, while laboring under temporary mental health, this unction did not serve as a substitute for a something I desired, and knew I needed. Like a crisis in a disease the time came. I was taken ill, not severely so, just enough to cause me to relinquish office hours, though I still continued to visit those of ni}'- patients who had sufficient confidence in me to refuse being killed by the hands of other practitioners. As the first batch of microbes left, leaving me under the delusion I was convalescing, another swarm came down like an after-dinner course to give zest to the whole. Then my horse ran away and my son was married. To an ordinary mortal these "visitations," or mixtures would have appeared sufficient to warrant a rest, a little easement in labor, a little folding of the hands. I deserved something, anyway. For me, however, they were only ripples, microscopic splashes on the surface of the sea of my life. The cyclone that wrecked my bark, was the putting into execution by my wife, of a house-cleaning plan.

I wish to say my wife is no ordinary woman, which fact is borne out by another, namely that she married me. I have often insisted she was the only one of the two who was married, I being- simply a guest at the wedding. She cleaned, and had I died during the performance, the funeral would have been held in the yard, as there would have been no room for the corpse in the house. She began with one apartment. This, she said, was all she "intended to do." But, parenthetically, m.y wife is always cleaning. She has no set legal holiday for it, extending over a week, or more, like other housewives, but appears to do it daily, in fact all the time. On this occasion it was done so thoroughly, every thing when she finished was new, except the land on which the house stood. I was the next older. This insanity settled the business, and I made up my mind I should have to go under the sod, (for which some of my friends said I was not prepared,) leaving her to enjoy my insurance, or get away for the purpose of saving my life. Now it is no easy thing for a man, especially a professional man, to pack up his duds, leave his friends and creditors, shut shop, having no clerks to sell pills in job lots at reduced prices, after he has been moving along in one groove for thirty years. A doctor has a feeling of fear that some other of his clan may get hold of his best paying "chronics" and cure them, thus cutting off a sure and constant revenue. I was afraid of this. On the contrary such a going would be a valid excuse to present bills, in order to find out how much of real love patients have for their family physician.

So the mass of pros and cons were put into the mortar of thought, and ground into the powder of decision. I wanted to go somewhere, most of all to Europe. This I desired for many reasons. Nearly all doctors do. It seems to impress a patient, or a community, if a medical man has put foot into a European hospital he has imbibed some potent influence, not obtainable by any course of study, or bedside experience in this country, which he can exert at will for the benefit of the sick. It sounds well to have "been abroad." Then, too, so many of my friends, just because they knew I probably never could do it, were constantly telling me of the delights of an ocean voyage, "the perfect rest, nothing like it to bring back exhausted vitality, no night calls, no muddy roads," and all that sort of thing. I, so they said, "needed change." I did. And to "brush up against the great minds of my profession." All this and much more, partaking of the same character, decided me. I thought it better than to take a trip in my own country, for did I go to either end of it, as soon as I felt rested I would be sure to return home, and be back at the old job before the desired purpose was accomplished. Another reason, I wanted variety. There is a great difference between rest and repose. One may be merely a change of activities, while the other may be a long drawn exertion. Carlyle, in his Sartor Resartus, goes into the definition of

i6 the words, and to his vv^ork I refer you for a more lucid explanation of the subject. Travel within my own country meant the same language, the same laws. It would have presented the same orders of architecture, the same customs of the peoples, and though probably I should have been "in cog." to the great mass of my brethren, the handle of "doctor" might now and then have slipped out, and I been called to treat, of course gratuitously, some one who would "remit later on arrival home." My line of battle being decided, I began to look about for my guns. I found I could raise some funds, but how I could expend them to the best advantage was the question. Tourist Agencies were interviewed, consultations held with those who had been partakers of the joys I anticipated. Great divergence of opinion was found, each opinion seeming to depend upon the size of a presumptive Letter of Credit. In fact, one of my friends, a retired physician to whom I went for suggestions, knowing he would tell me the entire truth by reason of the brotherhood, greeted me with, "how much money have you?" After stating the amount I thought I could borrow, he replied, "you can do it." The first gate to the Garden of Pleasure was opened. Complications now began to arise in my home. My wife, who heretofore had enjoyed unusual health, and who had unselfishly insisted I should go alone, by reason of the expenditure entailed, began to present symptoms of decline, at least she said she felt them. To me, as a physician, there were no apparent evidences of physical degeneration.

At first I thought the house cleaning had been too much for her, but later surmised she would miss me, that a sort of "Oikeiomania" was setting in. A talk with other married men led me to believe this was not an uncommon state V\^ith wives, when husbands threatened to go abroad alone. I reasoned she was beginning to mistrust, or distrust me, and from association with her friends had imbibed largely of "why do you not go too ?" Her collapse was stayed by saying, "My dear, a trip to Europe with you not in it, would be a rose without a thorn, or a thorn without a rose," (I have forgotten which) "you too shall go." The reader will find, before he reaches the end of this book, that I went with her. Trouble started in at once. As I slowly contracted the circle of my practice, my wife expanded in the direction of her supposed needs. From bonnets to shoes, every article that could or might be required in a three months' visit was priced and samples obtained. Of course, according to her idea, nothing could be bought in Europe. At least, my wife endeavored to fix in my mind what she believed to be a fact. My own wardrobe was simplicity itself, including celluloid collars. They, celluloid collars, pay, not only in money, but in comfort. If ever you g-o, don't forget to take half a dozen. I did not, my wife did. I'll tell you how this happened. A married daughter living in New York, had been presented by an admiring friend with a pair of embroidered pillow cases. My wife's economy led her to hold the articles in stock until a convenient season when she should go to the city taking them with her, thus saving freight, or expressage. This was her opportunity. So the cases were carefully packed in our single trunk to be delivered to the rightful owner on reaching the great city. They were eventually. Only this happened between. My celluloid collars were left at home, while the cases traveled all over Europe in their place. I used the cases as a substitute for a remembrance of the other side, and my daughter still admires the handiwork of Parisian needlewomen. I have learned it is a wise act to go through your trunk after your wife has said she has packed it, especially when going abroad. Another thing I would suggest : either buy, or invent a trunk that will lock and unlock itself, merely by kicking or swearing at it. In our journey I opened that small piece of baggage of ours over a million of times, perhaps more, but I'm safe on a million. If you have put down, or mislaid anything, or suppose you have lost it, from a hair pin to a relic, your wife will say it is in the trunk and order you to look for it. You know it is not there, but you'll be fool enough to do it, or afraid to disobey. Ninety and nine times out of a hundred it will not be in it, as you knew. I've had an experience with that trunk which, if applied to my profession, would make me a professor in a medical college. The next time I go, I shall take a hand bag and my character, nothing else.

The day of departure, the eventful day at last arrived. Being in length of service, the oldest practitioner in my little city, the good-byes, partook somewhat of a public character. The press had mentioned our intended going as an item of news and interest. The local military company turned out, saluted me and wished me bon-voyage in true soldierly style. Little gifts came to us from loving hearts, torpedoes were placed upon the railroad track to boom us on as we left the station ; so amid a blaze of glory, mingled with kisses from my wife's dearest friends, of which I took as large a portion as I could, we rolled away, leaving my home, nearly three thousand of the inhabitants of which I had ushered into the

world, and the cemetery, where nearly

thousands had been helped to a permanent resting place through my efforts. As a last act, I confided my patients to Nature and quack compounds, and started for the grand event of my existence.

It is said "the three great events of human life are birth, marriage, and death." I have been through two of them, but never enjoyed either so much as the anticipations before me. I got what did not occur in tlie other two. As for tlie last, that remains to be seen, or felt. My pastor thinks the question an open one as yet. tie and I do not agree on certain theological constructions. He, in my opinion, has too much faith, that is now. I hope to convert him to my way of looking at facts.

We arrived in New York two daA^s before the expected sailing of the ship. This was done that my wife might price more samples and job lots of goods, for which she had no earthly need, and that I might look around in order to become acquainted with "ways that were dark." I was not sure but a little experience in this line would work in well on the other side. I bought Baedekers, a letter of credit, a corkscrew and a lot of other useless things I supposed would come handy. I could have purchased more celluloid collars had I known the contents of that blank trunk. I also took occasion, the day before we sailed, to visit the vessel, look her over and form my opinion of the captain, to whom I had a letter of introduction. A bottle of champagne during the voyage, beats all written communications out of sight. This I learned from the application of both methods of acquaintance.

Chapter II. At Sea

"Merrily we sail along o'er the deep blue sea."

<^^ATURDAY, the day of separation from our na- ^^ tive land, broke tinadulterate. We could not have picked a riper one for the month of May had we searched the almanac. It is needless to say we awoke early so as to get on board in time. Here began the first of misstatements. We read on our tickets, "passengers are required to be on board one hour before sailing." This is not true. If you are on deck at any time before the boat leaves quarantine you may go, provided your ticket is paid for.

The usual number of friends came to the pier to say farewell, and kiss my wife. Flowers and oranges there were for her in abundance. For me, telegrams, one of the most interesting of which read, "best wishes for a safe voyage ; if you get short of funds draw on me." Now that had the true spirit, and as this particular one came from the president of the largest and so far safest bank in my town, it was more than gratifying-. I did not, however, call on him. He saved his cake and credit nevertheless, by the offer. I shall return the compliment should he ever go, that is, so far as the "wishes" are concerned. As to the second clause, I shall think it over. He might want bail. You can never tell about these bank officials, they go suddenly, sometimes. One of my dearest friends, a lady, had the forethought to present me with a diary, to which I daily devoted a few moments and kept a few notes, except when in Paris. No one has time in Paris to keep anything, except his respectability. I shall, therefore, take the liberty of quoting from these original pages the history of our outward passage, adding such thoughts and morals as come to mind, or promise to be of service to others when in a similar situation.

Our ship, (every one who goes to sea uses the possessive case) the "Werra," Capt. Pohle, one of the North German Lloyds great fleet, was bound for Genoa, with no stops between, so far as advertised, except at Gibraltar. She was the best boat in which I had ever crossed the Atlantic. In my travels I have met many who have sailed by other lines, and have yet to find one who does not speak in the highest terms of the comfort, cuisine and seamanship offered by this company to sea-going people. This is not an advertisement for the N. G. L's, nor do I expect a rebate when I go with them again, as I certainly hope to do.

22>

We got away from the pier, at last, by the aid of two tugs, much sobbing and. weeping, the band playing, colors flying and the usual eclat that adheres to such an event. I suppose it takes place regularly twice a week the year round, but to us it was novel, never having been in a like predicament. Our journey had begun in reality and my wife to have her innings. I think it is Emerson who says, "in a tour abroad there is three per cent, of expectation, two per cent, of realization and five per cent, of recollection." In our case, at least, this needs modification. We expected less than we realized, realized more than we expected, and as the spool of recollection and memory unwinds the thread of the past, we find those days were a glorious prison house, where love was jailor and the bars delight. My wife, soon after leaving port, went below to her room to "regulate things." It was hard to break up an old habit. I remained on deck to see what was going on. We had aboard, as I found later, the usual types, or class of passengers. The man who was making his 66th voyage, the fellow who wished he had not come, the man who never lost a meal, he Vv^ho was not hungry, the Kodak fiend, the Captain's terror, and the blushing bride,

I had been aboard but a few hours when I thought I knew the ship by heart. I had investigated every part of it, except the furnace room and the crow's nest, where the look-out is supposed to be stationed, though this I did later. Everything was, as a friend of mine who was once in the drug business invariably stated, "a new novelty," laden with surprises, if not with experiences and information. I chanced early in the day to stray into the smoke room, a place I afterwards found fraught Vv^ith stories, good times and naps. I shall speak of it again. Here I encountered a jolly crowd tasting, or testing the dark product of Munich. As I knew I should be brought later face to face with the same, I deemed it wise to make an experiment under the noses of those I judged were more learned in the matter than I. I am a temperance man at home, but ¥7hen traveling, I fear change of water and do as others do. I do not like to insult a country by declining its chief food products. I ordered a glass of the beverage, at the same time handing the waiter my last American half dollar. He was gone some time, so long, I began to think he had run off with my funds, 3^et felt satisfied he could go no further than I, so would "see him later." He returned, and I thought I understood the cause of the delay. It was not the size of the glass, but the amount of change. At first I thought he had brought up part of the cargo ; then that he had mistaken my half for a gold fifty. At any rate, I drank my bier in haste, lest he should discover his mistake, and went below to find Mary (that is my wife's name.) She was in the stateroom "regulating." I proceeded to tell her of my stroke in finance and suggested if she had no objections I'd stick to bier, as it would save using our letter of credit and enable me to retire from practice on my return. She asked to see what had been given me as change, and as there v/ere no bargain counters, or auctions on board, I felt it safe to trust her with the funds. Mary has a mathematical mind, and after a few momentsspent in looking over the ballast, quietly said,

"You old (she used a monosyllable) the

change is correct and you have paid twice as much for the bier as you do at home." I changed the subject, but got even with the steward by spending all the freight he had given me on the same lines as produced it. Before I left, Mary informed me she had discovered a place for swearing. She knew it was for that purpose, as it was labeled "Fur Damen." She also said if I felt aggrieved at the bar-tender, it would be a good plan to go into it and settle the matter with him then and there. Mary was not as proficient in the German language as she was later.

My diary says :

May 23, Saturday. — "I wish it were possible to frame into words or speech the emotions I feel. That I were a painter for the sake of the sweet picture. I seem to have lost hold of everything. Where am I, I asked myself this morning as we sailed away, the old "Ego" is no longer present.

To think, for me, there are to be days and weeks of rest, pleasure and freedom. That I may sit down and dictate, command and not be commanded. What a delicious dream it is. To think I may sleep ; lay myself down in the belief I shall rest undisturbed till morning breaks, which I have not done in more than thirty years. Did sweeter flowers ever bloom, were music's strains evermore harmonious than this thought ? Strange are my feelings. I walk about the deck, as it were in the third person, wondering by what enchantment I havebeen disembodied. I am not myself. My wife is at my side, and vv^e seem to be looking backward, down the avenue of the past and feel as if the days of youth have come again. We are like children let loose from school, thinking only of the pleasures held in store in the hours beyond.

.... As the land recedes further and further from our sight, the air grows cold. We don our wraps and thicker clothing. Luncheon has been served and dinner eaten. No qualms of Mai de Mer. The vessel rolls not unpleasantly, a sort of rocking, as if the sea wished to add to our enjoy, ment.

My studies in the prevention of sea-sickness, which I pursued with more zest than I did some other types of ailments, seeing my wife and I were to be the patients, had brought forth no satisfactor}^ results. Numerous remedies, I found were suggested by those who had had an actual experience, and many more, by those teachers who wrote on the subject, reasoning fromi a theory. I decided to let the whole thing alone, trusting to luck, and if anything turned up to go at it on the "expecta,nt" plan, that is, to treat ourselves as symptoms and circumstances arose. I think I did wisely. My advice would be, to those contemplating a voyage, don't bother about "preventives." Eat moderately for a few days before going abroad, especially on the day of sailing, and, if possible, skip a meal or two on the auspicious date. The temptations of the lunch and dinner tables the first day out are, as a rule, too much for the average man or woman to withstand, and indulgence pays tribute to Neptune the following mxorning, if not before. Another thing, go on board well dressed. Do not think any old rag is good enough for the ship. You will be brought into contact with cultivated people, ladies and gentlemen, and the impression you make at first, lasts through the entire voyage. In a day or two you may put on a less fashionable or more worn out costume, and lay the Sunday apparel away till you step on shore again. If you are sea-sick, you won't care about dress. You'll sigh for wings, and harps and crowns. I have heard it said of a Frenchman, that at first he was afraid he would die, and later he feared he could not. I've seen those I thought were in this second stage.

The people one meets aboard ship are of all kinds and shapes. We had them. The Priest going to Rome for a little more Apostolic succession. The Rabbi who was pointed toward Palestine to find out the cause for the Talmud. The pretty girl (chaperoned by a near relative) who flirted with all the officers, making their life miserable, apparently, by climbing onto the bridge and asking "what kind of weather shall we have to-morrow ?" The man of business, the bevy of young (?) ladies, going in a "conducted" party, eight-tenths of whom were maidens, one-tenth married, and the balance eligible.

Among such a crowd as this, it was not reasonable to expect I should pass myself off as a married man. So as intimacies grew thicker and more numerous, I introduced my better half as my mother, leading the unsophisticated to believe that she (my wife) was a widow, and I her only son. This gave me a freedom unattainable by other means. To be sure, my beard was sprinkled with grey, a hair or two here and there, (I shaved it off when I reached Paris,) but this represented experience, not age, at least in my case.

To some the hours drag wearily on board ship, and they wish they were ashore. This is "because they have no resources within themselves," as my wife says. I find she is correct when they are sea-sick. The ''resources" are all overboard. Most of the daylight and a large part of the night is spent in eating. You have coffee and rolls in your stateroom before you are up, then breakfast. A little later, more refreshments. Before luncheon something to eat, then you lunch. In the afternoon beef, chicken, or clam broth, with sandwiches and other truck. Then dinner. This is the "She Dove" of the day. You come to the table, that is, if you are able, arrayed in the best you have, and begin with soup and end with toothpicks. A real table d'hote well cooked, well served, a menu card at your hand, a waiter at your back, and an orchestra at the foot of the companion way. What do you want more ? You eat about two hours and then go into the smoke-room to get something to satisfy your hunger. Here you indulge in sandwiches and a bottle of something, or a glass of cordial. During all this performance of the day, you are supposed to patronize the waiter in the smoke-room, and become acquainted with the liquid supplies of the ship. A man, if he is any kind of a stevedore, can unload about twenty schooners between sunrise and bedtime. After my first experience I bought a bier-card, a little machine filled with num^bers, one of which the waiter punches out every time you order a prophylactic, I found it less awkward than waiting for change, and I got my medicine sooner. To be sure, it uses itself up rapidly, but what are you on a vacation for ? If you go with the idea you can save money, it would be better for you to remain at home. When one is not eating, or punching out holes in the bier-card, "Shovel Board" may be played. There is nothing like this game on earth. The nearest resemblance is Croquet, and that has no similarity whatever to it. One of the crew chalks out on the deck a program, something like this :