Three Years in Europe, 1868 to 1871

Front matter

THREE YEARS IN EUROPE

1868 to 1871,

WITH AN ACCOUNT OF SUBSEQUENT VISITS TO EUROPE IN 1886 AND 1893

Preface

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PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

The very great interest with which the writer of the following pages has been often heard by many of his countrymen about his travels and experiences in Europe, has induced him to publish the following pages. They are, as they profess to be, simply extracts from letters sent from Europe, and as such they cannot, the writer is but too well aware, come up to the standard of books specially written on the subject, or even of notes taken with an eye to publication. Had any such books existed, the writer would have at once retired from an unequal competition, nor would he have pushed to the notice of the public his letters written carelessly, and without the least idea of publication. As it is, however, none of our countrymen has favored the public with accounts of their travels in Europe. These letters were written mostly from England, but they also contain accounts of some of the most important places in Scotland and Ireland, in France, Germany, Switzerland and Italy. They may therefore serve as a guide-book to Indian youths intending to visit Europe, containing at the same time something more than ordinary guide-books profess to do,—viz., the views and opinions of a foreigner for the first time coming in contact with the noble institutions of the West. A thorough and careful revision of these extracts would require greater leisure than what the writer has at his disposal; he therefore ventures to publish them with such alterations only as seemed urgently needed.

| | Calcutta June, 1872. | | | | | R. C. DUTT.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

It is not without misgivings that a new edition of this little work is placed before the public. The notes of a tourist who makes a hurried tour through countries of which excellent and readable accounts are available can have little interest except for his personal friends. The sketchy and superficial notes contained in the following pages can scarcely interest the public.

Again, the first four chapters of the present work are almost a reprint,—with some alteration in arrangement, and somewhat condensed,—of a little book which I published in 1872 after my return from Europe. They were extracts from letters which I had written from England, and which were preserved by my friends here with more care than they deserved. A young student leaving his home for the first time is easily pleased with whatever he sees in foreign lands; any hill scenery charms him, and the beauty of a lake throws him into ecstacies! Whatever I felt, I wrote in my letters to my friends, and much of what I wrote in the letters, I published on my return home. There was some justification in publishing these extracts from letters, eighteen years ago, when but few of my countrymen had travelled in Europe or had published their notes. After the lapse of 18 years I can scarcely read without a smile the accounts which I then wrote about every lake, stream or mountain which I saw; and the republication of such accounts at the present day, when so many of my countrymen have visited and ably written on Europe, is putting the good nature of an indulgent public to a rather severe test.

The last six chapters of this book relate to my later visit to Europe in 1886. Some of the places I visited on this occasion, like Norway and Sweden, Berlin and Vienna, Florence, Rome and Naples, are not generally visited by my young countrymen who go to England for education. But nevertheless I am but too well aware that my accounts of these places are slipshod and careless, often penned in the saloon of a steamer or the smoking-room of a crowded hotel. These accounts have before now appeared in magazines and have been read, and I had my misgivings as to the expediency of republishing them in a permanent form.

"The request of friends" is pleaded as a justification for many works which had better not seen the light;—in my case, it was the request of my publisher! That enterprising gentleman has pressed me repeatedly to bring out my travels in Europe in a collected form. "But it is an old story now," I said, "many of my countrymen have travelled in Europe, and all know about Europe." "It may be an old story," he rejoined, "but none the less interesting to us."

A writer does not need many arguments to be convinced of the value of what he has written, and I was soon persuaded to yield to the better,—or at least to the more favourable judgment of my worthy publisher. To revise or rewrite what I had written eighteen or twenty years ago was out of the question, and indeed was scarcely the trouble; and thus the little book goes before the the public in a somewhat mixed and composite character! Extracts from letters written by a young and enthusiastic student will appear herein, side by side with the notes of an older and sadder, if not a wiser tourist. This arrangement, or rather want of arrangement, will have an interest for my personal friends; while the general reader too will find the arrangement convenient, as he will be able without any difficulty to select what he cares to read, and reject what he does not.

| | Burdwan 1st July, 1890. | | | | | R. C. DUTT.

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

An account of the Rhineland,—i. e. of Cologne and Wiesbaden, of Frankfort and Heidelberg, of Alsace and Lorraine,—which I visited in 1893 has been added in this edition.

| | Cuttack 1st July, 1896. | | | | | R. C. DUTT.

Chapter 1

THREE YEARS IN EUROPE.

CHAPTER I.

England, 1868 to 1871.

We left you all, and the Town of Calcutta, at 8 1/2 a. m., on the 3rd March, and steamed down the Hooghly to meet the Mail-steamer Mooltan at Diamond Harbour. The Hooghly widened as we went down the river, and we bade a long farewell to the huts and fields and villages of our native country,—to the palm-trees, the dates, and the green-woods which stood on both sides of the river, luxuriant and beautiful. At 1 1/2 p. m., we came to the Mooltan. In the afternoon the Mooltan weighed anchor, and we soon came to the mouths of the Ganges. We stopped again, and did not weigh anchor till the next morning at 4 a. m., and by 10 we were on the wide wide sea. We could distinctly see the line between the reddish Hooghly and the greenish sea, and the water became deep green and then deep blue, as we came out into the open sea. And now we had nothing around us but the deep blue sea, and the deep blue sky! The sight was novel to me. Specially at night, the waves rolling eternally on all sides, the milk white foam sparkling a moment under the cloudless moon, and then blending away in the blue waters, and a starry summer sky formed a scene of which it is hardly possible to give an adequate description.

But as we sat for hours together on the deck, watching this still nightly scene, other thoughts than those suggested by the scene oft arose in our minds. For we have left our home and our country, unknown to our friends, unknown to those who are nearest and dearest to us, staking our future, staking all, on success in an undertaking which past experience has proved to be more than difficult. The least hint about our plans would have effectually stopped our departure, our guardians would never have consented to our crossing the seas, our wisest friends would have considered it madness to venture on an impossible undertaking. Against such feelings and against the voice of experience and reason, we have set out in this difficult undertaking,—stealthily leaving our homes,—recklessly staking everything on an almost impossible success. Shall we achieve that success? Or shall we come back to our country, impoverished, socially cut off from our countrymen, and disappointed in our hopes, to face the reproaches of advisers and the regrets of our friends? These thoughts oft arose in our minds in the solemn stillness of the night,—and the prospect before us seemed to be gloomier than the gloomy sky and the gloomy sea around us, without a ray of hope to enlighten the dark prospect.

Early in the morning of the 7th instant, we descried from the deck of our steamer the sandy shores of the Coromandel Coast, and we reached Madras at 10-50 a. m. We landed and saw the Madras Fort, the Peoples' Park, and the Menagerie. Beyond this, there is little to see in Madras. The town is hot and dusty, and altogether disappointing to the visitor.

On the morning of the 10th March we could see the distant mountains of Ceylon. I saw mountains now for the first time, and they appeared like clouds on the horizon.

We reached Point de Galle in Ceylon on the 11th at 6-50 a. m. After breakfast we left the steamer and went on shore in a small boat. The whole place seemed a continuous garden. The cocoanut, the bamboo, the mango and a hundred other trees overhanging the neat beautiful streets, and the neat and pretty huts presented a most picturesque sight. Valmiki is hardly guilty of much exaggeration when he describes Ceylon as a golden region!

In about an hour we came up to the Wakwalley—a scene so beautiful as to defy all description. Far off is seen a line of greyish mountains encircling the view. Adam's Peak can be seen among these mountains. Lower down spreads a fresh green landscape with beautiful waving trees, and just beneath you are lawns and pretty walks with small glittering rivulets or canals meandering through the fields.

From the Wakwalley we went to the cinnamon garden and thence we went to see a Cingalese temple. The priest of the temple came to us, and showed us all the images and other things worth seeing there. There was a statue of Gautama Buddha 18 cubits high. The Cingalese are Buddhists, and have no knowledge whatever of Rama or Ravana. In the cool shade of the trees which overhung the temple we sat down on a piece of rock and drank the luscious water from a few cocoanuts with a relish which I cannot describe.

It was on the 19th that we passed through the strait between Socotra and Africa. Early in the morning of the 21st we saw the hills and rocks of Aden. After breakfast we went to see the place, a miserable town in the midst of barren burnt up rocks. There is hardly any vegetation here, and only here and there the eye is relieved by some plots of grass or a solitary tree taking its nourishment, I know not how, from the barren mountains.

The inhabitants of this place are partly Arabs and partly Africans with a constitution peculiarly fitted for the climate and the soil of their country. Even the children seem to be unmindful of the burning sun or the scorching sands, and some of them ran with our carriage for about half an hour without any apparent toil or fatigue. They are also splendid divers. While we were on board the steamer, many of them came swimming round the vessel, and begged for coins. When any coins were thrown into the sea they instantly dived, took them up and asked for more. In fact, one of them offered to go below our steamer from one side to the other, and I have no doubt he could have done so. For hours and hours together they remained afloat like any sea-animals!

The fort of Aden is very strong on account of the rocky nature of the place. The reservoir of this place is very well worth seeing. Water is so scarce in this country that they are obliged to keep a place surrounded on all sides by walls of natural rocks, which is filled with water in the rainy season, and supplies the people all the year round. The way leading to the reservoir is finely constructed, with walks, seats and stair-cases carved out of the rocks.

We left Aden on the next morning, and about 6 o'clock in the evening we passed through the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb. On one side were the rocks of Arabia, and on the other those of the small isle of Perim, and beyond the islands could be seen the high mountains of Africa.

In the Red Sea sharp bare small rocks rise precipitously from the sea, and it is these rocks, and many others under the surface of the water, which make navigation in the Red Sea so dangerous.

By the morning of the 27th we had entered the Gulf of Suez, and saw land on both sides of us. The sea was calm, as calm it could be, the surface appearing like a sheet of glass, the red beams of the sun had just tinged the yellow rocks and hills of Africa, and far behind them could be seen a higher range of greyish mountains encircling the view. Here and there we saw rocky islands dreary and barren, and refusing nourishment to a single plant or a single blade of grass. At 11 o'clock in the night we reached Suez. We left the Mooltan at Suez, to perform the journey to Alexandria by rail. The Suez Canal has not been completed yet.

We reached Alexandria in the morning and went on board the Massilia, a fine paddle steamer, with a powerful engine. As the steamer was not to start till the next morning, we went down to Alexandria to see that town. The streets were spacious, the houses large and well built. We drove through a delightful garden to see "Pompey's Pillar." Surrounded on all sides by an open space, this lofty pillar of solid marble rises 180 feet high, and appears as a picture against the blue canvass of a cloudless sky. Scattered all round the pillar are the demolished relics of Egyptian idolatry, images of dethroned gods and goddesses, which have been lying in this condition for centuries together, probably for thousands of years. It was almost dark when we left this place, and as our gharry rolled on, the column seemed to rise higher, a noble edifice appearing in bold relief against the dark evening sky. From that place we went to see "Cleopatra's Needle," also a column of solid marble about seventy-five cubits high, and pointed at the top. After a pleasant walk through the streets in the evening we returned to our steamer.

At half-past eleven on the 2nd April, we landed at Malta. To me the town presented a novel sight altogether. Neat and stone-paved streets, with fine and uniformly-built houses on both sides, neat shops with glass windows, and streets and markets thronged with white faces spoke of a European town, the first that I saw. We drove to a garden which was at one time the pleasure ground of the illustrious knights of Malta. Rows of dark Cypress trees, neatly trimmed, beautiful fountains playing here and there, cool shady avenues, fine stone-paved walks, and numberless lemon and orange trees with ripe oranges hanging from their boughs formed a fresh and pleasing scene. We tasted some of these "blood oranges" as they are called, quite red inside, and sweeter than those we get at Calcutta. The Governor's palace is a thing well worth seeing. There we saw in a large hall beautiful tapestry works with life-like figures all woven by the nuns of Malta. Scenes from all parts of the world, scenes from tropical countries with palm-trees and dates and swarthy people are finely executed. A figure of George IV. of England with two female figures by his side, representing England and Malta, is beautifully woven. In another room we saw pictures of the illustrious knights of Malta who fell for the defence of the place.

St. John's Chapel of Malta is a splendid edifice, decorated with the finest productions of labour and art. The ceiling is beautifully painted, and all around us were paintings and sculptures by the eminent Italian artists. Under the floor, which was of beautiful marble, were the tombs of the illustrious knights of Malta, and there was a solemnity and grandeur pervading the whole edifice. The Roman Catholic religion is supported to a very great extent by an appeal to the senses rather than by an appeal to reason, and hence in Roman Catholic Churches Art exhausts her treasures to make the mind religiously disposed. A painting of Christ suffering on the cross, or of Christ healing the sick, makes a far stronger impression on the mind than any appeal to reason; it softens the heart and makes it penitent —devotional—superstitious. It is by such means that the Roman Catholic religion is chiefly supported, and naturally enough the religion receives so great a help from the fine arts. The Italians besides have a strong imagination, and in fine arts are superior to all other nations in Europe, and where can their powers of imagination be so well employed as in the support of their national religion? For these reasons the Italian Churches are superior to any others in the world in paintings and sculptures, decorations and illuminations, solemnity and grandeur.

We came back to our steamer at 3 1/2 p. m. and our steamer left Malta at 5.

From a distance the noble rock of Gibralter looks like a lion sitting. The name Gibralter comes from the Arabic Jebel-al-Tarik, i. e., the rock of Tarik, the Mahomedan Conqueror of Spain. When he landed in Spain, his followers were daunted at their own critical position, having to fight in a strange mountainous country and against tremendous odds. But, "whither shall you fly?" enquired the brave Tarik of his soldiers, "the foes are before you, the roaring sea behind." The Moslems almost ashamed of their own cowardice rushed on their foes and defeated them. This gallant spirit accompanied Tarik through all his campaigns and eventually enabled him to subjugate almost the whole of Spain.

The rocks and fortifications of Gibralter are things really worth seeing. After a stroll through several streets we returned to our steamer at 6 p. m. The next day we passed the Cape St. Vincent with noble rocks and a light-house built on one of them. The Cape of Finistre we passed at night. On the 9th we saw Cape Ushant near Brest in France. There is a beautiful light-house here. On the morning of the 11th we passed the Isle of Wight. This island is a very beautiful one, the whole place appearing like a garden, but a garden not by nature but by art. You see, not tangled woods, high leafy trees, thick foliage and almost rank vegetation like what you see in India, but fine parks, beautiful winding hedges, green lawns, where you see traces of the hand of man almost on every spot. We reached Southampton at 11 a. m. on the 11th April. We had our dinner at Southampton and left for London at 5 p. m. and reached the metropolis (may I not say of the world?) at 8 p. m.

London is a very large place, as all the world knows, with a population of nearly four millions. The houses are usually four or five stories high, one of which is generally under the level of the streets. The walls in the outside are of bricks, but within, the partitions between rooms are all of wood covered with paper. There are several parks in London, extensive and open to all, with fine walks, ornamental waters, trees, gardens, flower-beds, &c. It is a pleasure to come and spend a few hours in one of these, when there is nothing else to do. Besides the parks, there are small squares every here and there with railings all round, and trees, flower-plants and walks inside. These are open only to those who live round the squares. They are called the "Lungs of London," for London would be very close and uncomfortable to live in without these open places. The houses are very closely built, and uniformly in a row, and the rooms are small and close. In fact every thing here seems to be designed to protect the people from the cold of winter which is long, while summers are, I am told, short. But as there are no contrivances to keep off the heat, London during the summer is, I am told, very uncomfortable. The weather is murky and the days are generally half dark, there being plenty of mist with showers every now and then, but they are not our Indian heavy showers, but slight patter, patter, patter, which is very annoying. Of sun you don't see much here except in summer, it is generally hid in mists or clouds, and only now and then peeps out with a pale sickly face! There is a saying here that English suns are made of worn-out French moons! and English summers, they say, consist of three warm days and a thunder-storm!

At present the thermometer stands at 50°. It is hardly over higher than 80°, and in winter sometimes goes 10 or 12 degrees below the freezing point.

On the 9th June, we went to see the Crystal Palace in Sydenham, a few miles from London. It is a large building, of thin sheets of glass joined together by thin bars of iron, having a noble arch in the middle and two wings

stretching out on its two sides. The whole building glittering in the sun has an imposing aspect. Outside the building are beautiful gardens, green lawns, gravel walks, beds of flowers in geometrical figures, groups of fountains playing in the sun, ornamental waters with swans in them, cool secluded walks through beautiful groves, and fine statues,—every thing that imagination can conceive or art can supply to add to the beauty of the place. Inside the building the view is, if possible, still prettier. There is a long walk from one end of the building to the other with a row of beautiful marble statues on each side, while luxuriant creepers hang from the ceiling and twine round the iron columns in the most fantastic manner, and fountains play every here and there—the sparkling showers falling on spacious vases richly decorated, and surrounded by statues.

The picture gallery contains a noble collection of paintings, all for sale, as well as busts and statues of eminent men. After a delightful walk in the gardens we took a boat and enjoyed a very pleasant row in the lake till it was very dark. At 10 we started for London, and did not reach the place till very late.

On the 6th October we went to hear the farewell readings of Charles Dickens. The St. James's Hall was brilliantly lighted up and crowded with people. Mr. Dickens read some pieces from his own works, including the humorous examination of Sam Weller. Mr. Dickens is a first-rate reader and is full of action as he reads. Every one present was delighted with his reading.

On the 5th November, there was a great deal of fun in the streets of London. Lots of people went about the streets dressed in a grotesque style, carrying about the effigy of Guy Fox to be burnt at last.

As I got up on the morning of the 8th November I saw on all sides,—what do you think?—streets, houses, gardens, trees, all covered with snow!— all one sheet of molten silver. A wonderful and novel sight it was for me.

During the last fortnight (5th to 20th November, 1868) London and in fact the whole of the British Isles have been in a state of great excitement on account of the Parliamentary elections going on. The amount of excitement in London on the day of election was simply incredible. Booths were erected every here and there, and voters came to these booths to give their votes. The streets were crowded with people, those who had votes and those who had not, and all engaged in the one absorbing topic of conversation, while the candidates for election could be seen going about from place to place, and from booth to booth with an agitation of mind which can easily be imagined. All the voters were to give their votes on that particular day, and as the day advanced the public could guess pretty correctly what the result in the evening would be, for the number of votes given for each candidate was published hourly in a hundred newspapers to satisfy the insatiate anxiety of the people. Wherever the chances were in favour of a liberal candi , the satisfaction, the joy, and I may say the triumph of all liberals knew no bounds; and where a conservative seemed likely to have the greatest number of votes, the delight of the conservatives was equally great. For every Englishman takes a deep interest in politics, and is either a conservative or a liberal, and accordingly wishes to see conservatives or liberals returned to Parliament. To a reflecting observer this interest which the English take in politics has a meaning and a significance. Every man in this country considers himself as a constituent of a great nation, prides himself on his nationality and the glory of the nation, and therefore keeps an eye on the welfare of his country. If a law is passed which he considers detrimental to the interests of the country, he takes it as deeply as if it were a personal grievance. He has his own ideas regarding the interests of his country, and if in his opinion they are best served by conservatives generally speaking, he is a conservative and votes for conservative members; and if, on the other hand, he believes the liberals to be more likely to do good to the country, he is a liberal and votes for liberal candidates. And thus every Englishman is a politician in one sense, and watches the debates in Parliament and keeps an eye on the welfare of his country. Go and speak to the commonest tailor, the commonest greengrocer, the commonest bootmaker in London, and he will tell you the amount of the national debt, he will tell you who introduced such and such a bill, and what likelihood it has of passing, he will argue with you as to the good or evil effects of a bill lately introduced in Parliament. Your cabman will tell you that this bill will pass and t'other bill not, and your boatman will inform you that them conservatives are no good. Among such a people, as may be expected, most improvements emanate from the people, for the people are the Government. Societies are formed by the persons desirous of bringing on some reform, they have their sittings, their lectures, their pamphlets, they write articles in newspapers, they publish books to support their cause. Thus they go on influencing the public mind and convincing the people that a reform is needed. When they are strong enough they make a representation in Parliament, they have a bill introduced by some member who may be of the same opinion with themselves. The bill may he defeated once, twice, three times, perhaps, but that does not matter, they go on quietly with their work with a patience and perseverance which is almost incredible. They know that the will of the people is the law of the land, and if the people show increasing interest in their cause they are sure to succeed, otherwise their cause must of course be given up. Societies and leagues of this kind exist in England without number, and it is really a wonder how patiently and perseveringly they work. Sometimes the generation which started an association may pass away, but new members come in, the next generation takes up the cause, and the association lives and works on still trying to influence the public mind. For public opinion is the law of the land which sways the country without a rival, and before which the Queen, the Lords, the Commons must all give way. The Queen and the Nobility do not oppose it, and if the Commons act contrary to it, another set of members are sure to be returned at the next election who are of the same opinion as the public. Such is England, a country where the people govern themselves,—what wonder if such a people have secured for themselves an amount of political liberty which is nowhere else to be found on the face of the globe, America alone excepted.

To-day (25th December) Merry Christmas has returned to bless old England, and loud church-bells rang in the morning through the thousand streets and lanes of London, merrily as a marriage-bell. Unlike what we have at home on festive days, it is all quiet and still in the streets, shops and offices are all closed, and the whole town presents a sort of funeral appearance. But do you like to see Christmas in its true aspect? Go to the interior of one of the houses, and mark what passes on there. What with the joy and gladness of every member of the family now assembled together, what with the group of happy faces round the cheerful hearth, what with the roast beef and Christmas plum-pudding of old England, and what with the temptations under the mistletoe, Christmas is a jolly time indeed in England.

The cold season in England begins with the Christmas tide. The other day we had a snowfall. Beautiful flakes of snow descended gently in showers like bits of cotton. The shower was soon over, and we walked on the pavements covered with snow. Unlike our Indian winters with clear skies and sunny days, English winters have very little of the sun, and you must consider yourself fortunate if once in a week you get a glimpse of a pale round thing, an apology for a sun struggling among the clouds. It is often misty and miserably wet the whole day. Occasionally there is bright frosty weather with a genial sunshine sparkling on snow-covered fields and frozen lakes.