{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2859", "width": "2029", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nCha^.?-r. Copyright No...\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nShelf.\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Was\\nK1 o\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "iitr. Wi^xntfs Wivitin^s*\\nMY SUMMER IN A GARDEN. Riverside Aldine Series.\\ni6mo, ;^i.oo.\\nPopzdar Edition. Illustrations by Darley. Square i6mo,\\n$1.50.\\nSAUNTERINGS. Little Classic style. iSmo, ^i.oo.\\nBACK-LOG STUDIES. Illustrated by Hoppin. Square\\ni6mo, $1.25.\\nThe Same. Riverside Aldine Series. i6mo, ^i.oo.\\nBADDECK, AND THAT SORT OF THING. Little\\nClassic style. iSmo, $1.00.\\nMY WiNTER ON THE NILE. Crown 8vo, ;^2.oo,\\nIN THE LEVANT. Crown 8vo, $2.00.\\nHoliday Edition. With Portrait, Photogravures, etc. 2 vols.\\nCrown 8vo, $5.00.\\nBEING A BOY. Illustrated by Champ. Square i6mo,\\nIN THE WILDERNESS. Little Classic style. iSmo,\\n$1.00.\\nWASHINGTON IRVING. In American Men of Letters\\nSeries. With Portrait. i6mo, $1.25.\\nA ROUNDABOUT JOURNEY. Crown 8 vo, $1.50.\\nON HORSEBACK AND MEXICAN NOTES. i6mo, $1.25.\\nFor sale by all Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt\\nof price by the PiiblisJters,\\nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY,\\nBoston and New York.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "SAUNTERINGS.\\nBY\\nCHARLES D. WARNER,\\nAUTHPR OF my summer IN A GARDEN/\\nBOSTON:\\nHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY.\\nCi)e Eiijerfiiitie Pceso, C^ambcttise.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "TWO COPIES RECEIVED,\\nefttee of tli9\\nFEB 6-1900\\nBegi\u00c2\u00ab{.r of CsjiyrigSfg,\\n56035\\nCOPYRIGHT, 1872, BY JAMES R. OSGOOD CO.\\nCOPYRIGHT. 1900, BY CHARLES D. WARNER\\nALL RIGHTS RESERVED\\nSECOND COPY,\\nf.f j^ T ^e Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.\\nr^ Printed by H. O. Houghton Company.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nMisapprehensions Corrected. vu\\nParis and London i\\nSurface Contrasts of Paris and London 3\\nParis in May. French Girls. The Emperor at\\nLongchamps 9\\nAn Imperial Review I4\\nThe Low Countries and Rhineland 19\\nAmiens and Quaint Old Bruges .21\\nGhent and Antwerp 27\\nAmsterdam 3\\nCologne and St. Ursula 37\\nA Glimpse of the Rhine 4\u00c2\u00b0\\nHeidelberg 43\\nAlpine Notes 47\\nEntering Switzerland. Berne, its Beauties and\\nBears 49\\nHearing the Freiburg Organ. First Sight of Lake\\nIceman 54\\nOur English Friends 57", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "Iv CONTENTS.\\nThe Diligence to Chamouny 61\\nThe Man who speaks English 66\\nA Walk to the Gorner-Grat 70\\nThe Baths of Leuk 76\\nOver the Gemmi 8n\\nBavaria 83\\nAmerican Impatience 85\\nA City of Color\\nA City living on the Past 92\\nOutside Aspects of Munich 96\\nThe Military Life of Munich 104\\nThe Emancipation of Munich 107\\nFashion in the Streets no\\nThe Gottesacker and Bavarian Funerals .116\\nThe October Fest. The Peasants and the King 120\\nIndian Summer 131\\nA Taste of Ultramontanism 134\\nChanging Quarters 141\\nChristmas Time. Music 150\\nLooking for Warm Weather iS7\\nFrom Munich to Naples \u00e2\u0080\u00a2159\\nRavenna 169\\nA Dead City 171\\nDown to the Pineta I75\\nDante and Byron 179\\nResting-place of Caesars. Picture of a Beautiful\\nHeretic l8l\\nA High Day in Rome 187\\nPalm Sunday in St. Peter s 189", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS. V\\nisuvms 197\\nClimbing a Volcano 199\\n)RRENTO Days 209\\nOutlines 211\\nThe Villa Nardi 216\\nSea and Shore 223\\nOn Top of the House .228\\nThe Price of Oranges 232\\nFascination 239\\nMonkish Perches 243\\nA Dry Time 248\\nChildren of the Sun 252\\nSaint Antonino 256\\nPunta Delia Campanella 262\\nCapri 268\\nThe Story of Fiametta 273\\nSt. Maria a Castello 280\\nThe Myth of the Sirens 286", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED.\\nI SHOULD not like to ask an indulgent and idle public to\\nsaunter about with me under a misapprehension. It\\nwould be more agreeable to invite it to go nowhere than\\nsomewhere for almost every one has been somewhere, and\\nhas written about it. The only compromise I can suggest is,\\nthat we shall go somewhere, and not learn any thing about\\nit. The instinct of the public against any thing like informa-\\ntion in a volume of this kind is perfectly justifiable and the\\nreader will perhaps discover that this is illy adapted for a text-\\nbook in schools, or for the use of competitive candidates ip\\nthe civil-service examinations.\\nYears ago, people used to sauoter over the Atlantic, and\\nspend weeks in filling journals with their monotonous emo-\\ntions. That is all changed now, and there is a misapprehen-\\nsion that the Atlantic has been practically subdued but no\\none ever gets beyond the rolling forties without having\\ntliis impression corrected.\\nI confess to have been deceived about this Atlantic, the\\nroughest and windiest of oceans. If you look at it on the\\nmap, it doesn t appear to be much, and, indeed, it is spoken of\\nas a ferry. What with the eight and nine days passages over\\nit, and the laying of the cable, which annihilates distance, I\\nhad ^he impression that it tedious three thousand and odd\\nmiles had been, somehow, partly done away with but they\\nare all there. When one has sailed a thousand miles due east", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "v m MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED.\\nand finds that he is then nowhere in particular, but is still\\nout, pitching about on an uneasy sea, under an inconstant sky,\\nand that a thousand miles more will not make any perceptible\\nchange, he begins to have some conception of the unconquer-\\nable ocean. Columbus rises in my estimation.\\nI was feeling uncomfortable that nothing had been done\\nfor the memory of Christopher Columbus, when I heard some\\nmonths ago that thirty-seven guns had been fired off for him\\nin Boston. It is to be hoped that they were some satisfaction\\nto him. They were discharged by countrymen of his, who\\nare justly proud that he should have been able, after a search\\nof only a few weeks, to find a land where the hand-organ had\\nnever been heard. The Italians, as a people, have not profited\\nmuch by this discovery not so much, indeed, as the Spaniards,\\nwho got a reputation by it which even now gilds their decay.\\nThat Columbus was born in Genoa, entitles the Italians to\\ncelebrate the great achievement of his life though why they\\nshould discharge exactly thirty-seven guns I do not know,\\nColumbus did not discover the United States that we partly\\nfound ourselves, and partly bought, and gouged the Mexicans\\nout of. He did not even appear to know that there was a\\ncontinent here. He discovered the West Indies, which he\\nthought were the East and ten guns would be enough for\\nthem. It is probable that he did open the way to the dis-\\ncovery of the New World. II he had waited, however, some-\\nbody else would have discovered it, perhaps some English-\\nman and then we might have been spared all the old French\\nand Spanish wars. Columbus let the Spaniards into the\\nNew World and their civilization has uniformly been a curse\\nto it. If he had brought Italians, who neither at that time\\nehowed, nor since have shown, much inclination to come, we\\nshould have had the opera, and made it a paying institution\\nby this time. Columbus was evidently a person who liked to\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ail about, and didn t care much for consequences.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED. U\\nPerhaps it is not an open question whether Columbus did\\nI. good thing in first coming over here, one that we ought\\nto celebrate with salutes and dinners. The Indians neve\\nthanked him, for one party. The Africans had small ground\\nto be gratified for the market he opened for them. Here are\\ntwo continents that had no use for him. He led Spain into a\\ndance of great expectations, which ended in her gorgeoua\\nruin. He introduced tobacco into Europe, and laid the foun-\\ndation for more tracts and nervous diseases than the Romans\\nhad in a thousand years. He introduced the potato into\\nIreland indirectly and that caused such a rapid increase of\\npopulation, that the great famine was the result, and an enor-\\nmous emigration to New York, hence Tweed and the con-\\nstituency of the Ring. Columbus is really responsible for\\nNew York. He is responsible for our whole tremendous\\nexperiment of democracy, open to all comers, the best three\\nin five to win. We cannot yet tell how it is coming out, what\\nwith the foreigners and the communists and the women. On\\nour great stage we are playing a piece of mingled tragedy\\nand comedy, with what d\u00e2\u0082\u00acao ument we cannot yet say. If it\\ncomes out well, we ought to erect a monument to Christo-\\npher as high as the one at Washington expects to be and\\nwe presume it is well to fire a salute occasionally to keep the\\nancient mariner in mind while we are trying our great experi-\\nment. And this reminds me that he ought to have had a\\nnaval salute.\\nThere is something almost heroic in the idea of firing off\\nguns for a man who has been stone-dead for about four cen\\nturies. It must have had a lively and festive sound in Bos\\nton, when the meaning of the salute was explained. No one\\ncould hear those great guns without a quicker beating of the\\nheart in gratitude to the great discoverer who had made\\nBoston possible. We are trying to realize to ourselveg\\nhe importance of the 12th of October as an anniversary of", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "r MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED.\\nour potfcntial existence. If any one wants to see how vivid\\nis the gratitude to Columbus, let him start out among our\\nbusiness-houses with a subscription-paper to raise money for\\npowder to be exploded in his honor. And yet Columbus was\\na well-meaning man and, if he did not discover a perfect con-\\ntinent, he found the only one that was left.\\nColumbus made voyaging on the Atlantic popular, and is\\nlesponsible for much of the delusion concerning it. Its great\\npractical use in this fast age is to give one an idea of distance\\naad of monotony.\\nI have listened in my time with more or less pleasure to\\n\\\\ery rollicking songs about the sea, the flashing brine, the\\nspray and the tempest s roar, the wet sheet and the flowing\\nBea, a life on the ocean wave, and all the rest of it. To para-\\nphrase a land proverb, let me write the songs of the sea, and\\nI care not who goes to sea and sings em. A square yard of\\nsolid ground is worth miles of the pitching, turbulent stuff\\nIts inability to stand still for one second is the plague of it. To\\nlie on deck when the sun shines, and swing up and down,\\nwhile the waves run hither and thither and toss their white\\ncaps, is all well enough to lie in your narrow berth and\\nroll from side to side all night long to walk up-hill to your\\nstateroom door, and, when you get there, find you have got to\\nthe bottom of the hill, and opening the door is like lifting up\\na trap-door in the floor to deliberately start for some object,\\nand, before you know it, to be flung against it like a bag of\\nsand to attempt to sit down on your sofa, and find you are\\nBitting up; to slip and slide and grasp at every thing within\\nreach, and to meet everybody leaning and walking on a slant,\\nas if a heavy wind were blowing, and the laws of gravitation\\nwere reversed to lie in your berth, and hear all the dishes on\\nthe cabin-table go sousing off against the wall in a general\\nsmash to sit at table holding your soup-plate with one hand,\\nand watching for a chance to put your spoon in when it comes", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED. xi\\nhigh tide on your side of the dish to vigilantly watch the\\nlurch of the heavy dishes while holding your glass and your\\nplate and your knife and fork, and not to notice it when\\nBrown, who sits next you, gets the whole swash of the gravy\\nfrom the roast-beef dish on his light-colored pantaloons, and\\nsee the look of dismay that only Brown can assume on such\\nan occasion to see Mrs. Brown advance to the table, sudden-\\nly stop and hesitate, two waiters rush at her, with whom she\\nstruggles wildly, only to go down in a heap with them in the\\nopposite corner to see her partially recover, but only to shoot\\nback again through her stateroom door, and be seen no more;\\nall this is quite pleasant and refreshing if you are tired of\\nland, but you get quite enough of it in a couple of weeks.\\nYou become, in time, even a little tired of the Jew who goes\\nabout wishing he vas a veek older and the eccentric man,\\nwho looks at no one, and streaks about the cabin and on deck,\\nwithout any purpose, and plays shuffle-board alone, always\\nbeating himself, and goes on the deck occasionally through\\nthe sky-light instead of by the cabin door, washes himself at\\nthe salt-water pump, and won t sleep in his stateroom, say-\\ning he isn t used to sleeping in a bed, as if the hard, nar-\\nrow, uneasy shelf of a berth was any thing like a bed and\\nyou have heard at last pretty nearly all about the officei s,\\nand their twenty and thirty years of sea-life, and every ocean\\nand port on the habitable globe where they have been.\\nThere comes a day when you are quite ready for land, and\\nthe scream of the gull is a welcome sound.\\nEven the sailors lose the vivacity of the first of the voyage.\\nThe first two or three days we had their quaint and half-\\ndoleful singing in chorus as they pulled at the ropes now\\nthey are satisfied with short ha-ho s, and uncadenced grunts.\\nIt used to be that the leader sang, in ever-varying lines of\\nnonsense, and the chorus struck in with fine effect, like this", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "ci MISAPPREHENSIONS CORRECTED.\\nI wish I was in Liverpool town.\\n{^Chorus.) Handy-pan, handy 1\\nO captain I where d ship your crew\\nHandy-pan, handy O I\\nOh 1 pull away, my bully crew.\\nHandy-pan, handy O I\\nThere are verses enough of this sort to reach acre ss the\\nAtlantic and they are not the worst thing about it either, oi\\nthe most tedious. One learns to respect this ocean, but not\\nto love it; and he leaves it with mingled feelings about\\nColumbus,\\nAnd now, having crossed it, a fact that cannot be con-\\ncealed, let us not be under the misapprehension that wo\\nare set to any task other than that of sauntering where it\\npleases a*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "PARIS AND LONDON.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "SURFACE CONTRASTS OF PARIS AND\\nLONDON.\\nI WONDER if it is the Channel Almost every thing\\nis laid to the Channel it has no friends. The\\nBailors call it the nastiest bit of water in the world. All\\ntravellers anathematize it. I have now crossed it three\\ntimes in different places, by long routes and short ones,\\nand have always found it as comfortable as any sailing\\nanywhere, sailing being one of the most tedious and\\ndisagreeable inventions of a fallen race. But such is not\\nthe usual experience most people would make grea*;\\nsacrifices to avoid the hour and three-quarters in one of\\nthose loathsome little Channel boats, they always call\\nthem loathsome, though I didn t see but they are aa\\ngood as any boats. I have never found any boat that\\nhasn t a detestable habit of bobbing round. The Chan-\\nnel is hated and no one who has much to do with it is\\nsurprised at the projects for bridging it and for boring a\\nhole under it though I have scarcely ever met an\\nEnglishman who wants either done, he does not desh^e\\nany more facile communication with the French than\\nhow exists. The traditional hatred may not be so strong\\nas it was, but it is hard to say on which side is the most\\nignorance and contempt of the other.\\nIt must be the Channel that is enough to produce a\\nphysical disagreement even between the two coasts and\\nthere cannot be a greater contrast in the cultivated\\nworld than between the two lands lying so close to each\\nother and the contrast cf their capitals is even more\\na", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "4 SURFACE CONTRASTS\\ndecided, I was about to say rival capitals, but thev havd\\nnot enough in common to make them rivals. I have\\nlately been over to London for a week, going by the\\nDieppe and New-Haven route at night, and retm-ning by\\nanother and the contrasts I speak of were impressed\\nupon me anew. Every thing here in and about Paris was\\nin the green and bloom of spring, and seemed to me very\\nlovely but my first glance at an English landscape\\nmade it all seem pale and flat. We went up from Ne-vf\\nHaven to London in the morning, and feasted our eyea\\nall the way. The French foliage is thin, spindling,\\nsparse the grass is thin and light in color in contrast.\\nThe English trees are massive, solid in substance and\\ncolor the grass is thick, and green as emerald the turf\\nis like the heaviest Wilton carpet. The whole effect is\\nthat of vegetable luxuriance and solidity, as it were a\\ntropical luxuriance, condensed and hardened by northern\\ninfluences. If my eyes remember well, the French land-\\nscapes are more like our own, in spring tone, at least but\\nthe English are a revelation tons strangers of what green\\nreally is, and what grass and trees can be. I had been\\ntold that we did well to see England before going to the\\nContinent, for it would seem small and only pretty after-\\nwards. Well, leaving out Switzerland, I have seen noth-\\ning in that beauty which satisfies the eye and wins the\\nheart to comjjare with England in spring. When we\\nannex it to our sprawling country, which lies out-doors\\nin so many climates, it will make a charming little\\nretreat for us in May and June, a sort of garden of\\ndelight, whence we shall draw our May butter and our\\nJune roses. It will only be necessary to put it under\\nglass to make it pleasant the year round.\\nWhen we passed within the hanging smoke of London\\ntown, tlireading our way amid numberless railway tracks,\\nBometimes over a road and sometimes under one, now\\nburrowing into the ground, and now running along\\namong the chimney-pots, when we came into the pak\\nlio-ht and the thickening industry of a London day, we", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "OF PARIS AND LONDON. 5\\ncould but at once contrast Paris. Unpleasant weather\\nusually reduces places to an equality of disagreeablene.ss.\\nBut Paris, with its wide streets, light, handsome houses,\\ngay windows, and smiling little parks and fountains,\\nkeeps up a tolerably pleasant aspect, let the weather do\\nits worst. But London, with its low, dark, smutty brick\\nhouses and insignificant streets, settles down hopelessly\\ninto the dvimps when the weather is bad. Even with\\nthe sun doing its best on the eternal cloud of smoke, it is\\ndingy and gloomy enough, and so dirty, after spic-span,\\nshining Paris. And there is a contrast in the matter\\nof order and system the lack of both in London is ap-\\nparent. You detect it in public places, in crowds, in the\\nstreets. The social evil is bad enough in its demon-\\nstrations in Paris it is twice as offensive in London. I\\nhave never seen a drunken woman in Paris I saw many\\nof them in the daytime in London. I saw men and\\nwomen fight in the streets, a man kick and pound a wo-\\nman and nobody interfered. There is a brutal streak in\\nthe Anglo-Saxon, I fear, a downright animal coarseness,\\nthat does not exhibit itself the other side of the Channel.\\nIt is a proverb, that the London policemen are never at\\nhand. The stout fellows with their clubs look as if they\\nmight do service but what a contrast they are to the\\nParis ser gents de ville The latter, with his dress -coat,\\ncocked hat, long rapier, white gloves, neat, polite, atten-\\ntive, alert, always with the manner of a Jesuit turned\\nsoldier, you learn to trust very much, if not respect\\nand you feel perfectly secure that he will protect you, and\\ngive you your rights in any corner of Paris. It does look\\nas if he might slip that slender rapier through your body\\nin a second, and pull it out and wipe it, and not move a\\nmuscle but I don t think he would do it unless he were\\ndirectly ordered to. He would not be likely to knock\\nyou down and drag you out, in mistake for the rowdy\\nwho was assaulting you.\\nA great contrast between the habits of the people of\\nLondon and Paris is shown b) their eating and drinking", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "6 SURFACE CONTRASTS\\nParis is brilliant with ca/es all the world frequents them\\nto sip coffee (and too often absinthe) read the papers,\\nand gossip over the news take them away, as all travel-\\nlers know, and Paris would not know itself. There is rot\\nii cafe in London instead of cafes^ there are gin-mills\\ninstead of light wine, there is heavy beer. Tlio restau-\\nrants and restaurant life are as different as can be. You\\ncan get any thing you wish in Paris you can live very\\ncheaply or very dearly, as you like. The range is more\\nlimited in London. I do not fancy the usual run of Paris\\nrestaurants. You get a great deal for your money, in\\nvariety and quantity but you don t exactly know what\\nit is and in time you tire of odds and ends, which destroy\\nyour hunger without exactly satisfying you. For myself,\\nafter a pretty good run of French cookery (and it beats\\nthe world for making the most out of little), when I sat\\ndown again to what the eminently-respectable waiter in\\nwhite and black calls a dinner off the joint, sir, with\\nwhat belongs to it, and ended up with an attack on a\\nsection of a cheese as big as a bass-drum, not to forget a\\npewter mug of amber liquid, I felt as if I had touched\\nbottom again, got something substantial, had what\\nyou call a square meal. The English give you the sub-\\nstantials, and better, I believe, than any other people.\\nThackeray used to come over to Paris to get a good din-\\nner now and then. I have tried LiS favorite restaurant\\nhere, the cuisine of which is famous far beyond the banks\\nof the Seine but I think if he, hearty trencher-man that\\nbe was, had lived in Paris, he would have gone to Lon-\\ndon for a dinner oftener than he came here.\\nAnd as for a lunch, this eating is a fascinating theme.\\ncommend me to a quiet inn of England. We happened\\nto be out at Kew Gardens the other afternoon. You\\nought to go to Kew, even if the Duchess of Cambridge is\\nnot at home. There is not such a park out of England,\\nconsidering how beautiful the Thames is there. What\\nsplendid trees it has 1 the horse-chestnut, now a mass of\\noink- and- white blossoms, from its broad base, which rest\u00c2\u00bb", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "OF PARIS AND LONDON. 7\\non the ground, to its hio;li rounded dome the hawthorns,\\nwhite and red, in full flower the sweeps and glades of\\nliving green, turf on which you walk with a grateful\\nsense of drawing life directly from the yielding, bountiful\\nearth, a green set out and heightened by flowers in\\nmasses of color (a great variety of rhododendrons, for\\none thing), to say nothing of magnificent greenhouses\\nand outlying flower-gardens. Just beyond are Richmond\\nHill and Hampton Court, and five or six centm^ies of tra-\\ndition and history and romance. Before you enter the\\ngarden, you pass the green. On one side of it are cottages,\\nand on the other the old village church and its quiet\\nchurchyard. Some boys were playing cricket on the\\nsward, and children were getting as intimate with the\\nturf and the sweet earth as their nurses would let them.\\nWe turned into a little cottage, which gave notice of hos-\\npitality for a consideration and were shown, by a pretty\\nmaid in calico, into an upper room, a neat, cheerful, com-\\nmon room, with bright flowers in the open windows, and\\nwhite muslin curtains for contrast. We looked out ou\\nthe green and over to the beautiful churchyard, where\\none of England s greatest painters, Gainsborough, lies in\\nrural repose. It is nothing to you, who always dine off\\nthe best at home, and never encounter dirty restaurants\\nand snufly inns, or run the gauntlet of Continental hotels,\\nevery meal being an experiment of great interest, if not\\nof danger, to say that this brisk little waitress spread a\\nsnowy cloth, and set thereon meat and bread and but-\\nter and a salad: that conveys no idea to your mind.\\nBecause you cannot see that the loaf of wheaten bread\\n\u00c2\u00abras white and delicate, and full of the goodness of the\\ngrain or that the butter, yellow as a guinea, tasted of\\ngrass and cows, and all the rich juices of the verdant\\nyear, and was not mere flavorless grease or that the cuts\\ns f roast beef j fat and lean, had qualities that indicate to\\nme some moral elevation in the cattle, high-toned, rich\\nmeat or that the salad was crisp and delicious, and ratheif\\nieemedto enjoy being eaten, at least, didn t disconsolately", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "8 PARIS AND LONDON.\\nwilt down at the prospect, as most salad does. I do not\\nwonder that Walter Scott dwells so much on eating, or\\nlets his heroes pull at the pewter muo;s so often. Per-\\nhaps one might find a better lunch in Paris, but he aurely\\ncouldn t find this one.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "PARIS IN MAVr. FRENCH GIRLS.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 THE\\nEMPEROR AT LONGCHAMPS.\\nIT was the first of May when we came up from Italy\\nThe spring grew on us as we advanced north\\nvegetation seemed further along than it was south of tht\\nAlps. Paris was bathed in sunshine, wrapped in deli-\\ncious weather, adorned with all the delicate colors of\\nblushing spring. Now the horse-chestnuts are all in\\nbloom, ^nd sols the hawthorn; and in parks and gar-\\ndens there are rows and alleys of trees, with blossoms\\nof pink and of white; patches of flowers set inthe light\\ngreen grass solid masses of gorgeous color, which fill all\\nthe air with perf um-e fountains that dance in the sun-\\nlight as if just released from prison and everywhere the\\nsoft suJEfusion of May. Young maidens who make their\\nfirst communion go into the churches in processions of\\nhundreds, all in white, from the flowing veil to the satin\\nslipper and I see them everywhere for a week after the\\nceremony, in their robes of innocence, often with bouquets\\nof flxowers, and attended by their friends; all concerned\\nmaking it a joyful holiday, as it ought to be. I hear, of\\ncourse^ with what false ideas of life these girls are edu\\ncated how they are watched before marriage how the\\nmarriage is only one of arrangement, and what liberty\\nthey eagerly seek afterwards. I met a charming Parii\\n.ady last winter in Italy, recently married, who said she\\nhad never been in the Louvre in her life; never had seen\\nany of the magnificent pictures or world-famous statuary\\nthere, because girls were not allowed to go there, lest", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "lo PARIS IN MA Y.\\nthey should see something that they ought not to see. 1\\nsuppose they look with wonder at the young American\\ngirls who march up to any thing that ever was created\\nwith undismayed front.\\nAnother Frenchwoman, a lady of talent and the best\\nbreeding, recently said to a friend, in entire unconscious-\\nness that she was saying any thing remarkable, that, whep\\nshe was seventeen, her great desire was to marry one\\nof her uncles (a thing not very unusual with the papal\\ndispensation), in order to keep all the money in the\\nfamily 1 That was the ambition of a girl of seventeen.\\nI like, on these sunny days, to look into the Luxem-\\nbourg Garden nowhere else is the eye more delighted\\nwith life and color. In the afternoon, especially, it is a\\nbaby-show worth going far to see. The avenues are full\\nof children, whose animated play, light laughter, and\\nhappy chatter, and pretty, picturesque dress, make a sort\\nof fairy grove of the garden and all the nurses of that\\nquarter bring their charges there, and sit in the shade,\\nsewing, gossiping, and comparing the merits of the little\\ndears. One baby difiers from another in glory, I sup-\\npose but I think on such days that they are all lovely,\\ntaken in the mass, and all in sweet harmony with the\\ndelicious atmosphere, the tender green, and the other\\nflowers of spring. A baby can t do better than to spend\\nits spring days in the Luxembourg Garden.\\nThere are several ways of seeing Paris besides roam-\\ning up and down before the blazing shop-windows, and\\nlounging by daylight or gaslight along the crowded and\\ngay boulevards and one of the best is to go to the Bois\\nde Boulogne on a fete-day, or when the races are in prog-\\nress. This famous wood is very disappointing at first to\\none who has seen the English parks, or who remembers\\nthe noble trees and glades and avenues of that at Munich.\\nTo be sure, there is a lovely little lake and a pretty arti-\\nficial cascade, and the roads and walks are good but the\\ntrees are all saplings, and nearly all the wood is a\\nthicket of small stuff. Yet there is green grass that on\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "PARIS IN MAY. n\\nean roll on, and there is a grove of small pines that one\\ncan sit under. It is a pleasant place to drive toward\\nevening but its great attraction is the crowd there. All\\nthe principal avenues are lined with chairs, and there\\npeople sit to watch the streams of carriages.\\nI went out to the Bois the other day, when there were\\nraces going on not that I went to the races, for I know\\nnothing about them, per se, and care less. All running\\nraces are pretty much alike. You see a lean horse, neck\\nand tail, flash by you, with a jockey in colors on his back;\\nand that is the whole of it. Unless you have some money\\non it, in the pool or otherwise, it is impossible to raise\\nany excitement. The day I went out, the Champs\\nElysees, on both sides, its whole length, was crowded\\nwith people, rows and ranks of them sitting in chairs and\\non benches. The Avenue de I lmperatrice, from the Arc\\nde rfitoile to the entrance of the Bois, was full of prome-\\nnaders and the main avenues of the Bois, from the chief\\nentrance to the race-course, were lined with people, who\\nstood or sat, simply to see the passing show. There\\ncould not have been less than ten miles of spectators, in\\ndouble or triple rows, who had taken places that after-\\nnoon to watch the turnouts of fashion and rank. These\\ngreat avenues were at all times, from three till seven,\\nfilled with vehicles and at certain points, and late in the\\nday, there was, or would have been anywhere else except\\nin Paris, a jam. I saw a great many splendid horses,\\nbut not so many fine liveries as one will see on a swell-\\nday in London. There was one that I liked. A hand-\\nsome carriage, with one seat, was drawn by four large\\nand elegant black horses, the two near horses ridden by\\npostilions in blue and silver, blue roundabouts, white\\nbreeches and top-boots, a round-topped silver cap, and the\\nhair, or wig, powdered, and showing just a little behind.\\nA footman mounted behind, seated, wore the same colors\\nand the whole establishment was exceedingly tonnish.\\nThe race-track (Longchamps, as it is called), broad\\nand beautiful springy turf, is not different from some", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "12 PARIS IN MA Y.\\nothers, except that the enclosed oblong space is not flat,\\nbut undulating just enough for beauty, and so framed in\\nby graceful woods, and looked on by chateaux and upland\\nforests, that I thought I had never seen a sweeter bit\\nof greensward. St. Cloud overlooks it, and villas also\\nregard it from other heights. The day I saw it, the horse-\\nthestnuts were in bloom and there was, on the edges, a\\ncloud of pinJi-and-white blossoms, that gave a soft and\\ncharming appearance to the entire landscape. The crowd\\nin the grounds, in front of the stands for judges, royal ty\\nand people who are privileged or will pay for places, was,\\nI suppose, much as usual, an excited throng of young\\nand jockey-looking men, with a few women-gamblers in\\ntheir midst, making up the pool a pack of carriages\\nalong the circuit of the track, with all sorts of people,\\nexcept the very good and conspicuous the elegantly-\\nhabited daughters of sin and satin, with servants in\\nlivery, as if they had been born to it gentlemen and\\nladies strolling about, or reclining on the sward, and a\\nrefreshment-stand in lively operation.\\nWhen the bell rang, we all cleared out from the track,\\nand I happened to get a position by the railing. I was\\nlooking over to the Pavilion, where I supposed the Em-\\nperor to be, when the man next to me cried, Voila\\nand, looking up, two horses brushed right by my face, of\\nwhich I saw about two tails and one neck, and they were\\ngone. Pretty soon they came round again, and one was\\nahead, as is apt to be the case; and somebody cried,\\nBully for Therese 1 or French to that effect, and it\\nwas all over. Then we rushed across to the emperor s\\nPavilion, except that I walked with all the dignity con-\\nsistent with rapidity, and there, in the midst of his suite.\\nBat the Man of December, a stout, broad, and heavy-\\nfaced man as you know, but a man who impresses one\\nwith a sense of force and purpose, sat, as I say, and\\nlooked at us through his narrow, half-shut eyes, till he\\nvas satisfied that I had got his features through my glasa.\\nwhen he deliberately arose and went in.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "PARIS IN MA y. 13\\nAll Paris was out that day, it is always out, by the\\nway, wlien the sun shines, and in whatever part of the\\ncity you happen to be and it seemed to me there was a\\nspecial throng clear down to the gate of the Tuileries, to\\nsee the emperor and the rest of us come home. He went\\nround by the Rue Rivoli, but I walked through the gar-\\ndens. The soldiers from Africa sat by the gilded portals,\\nas usual, aliens, and yet alway. with the port of con-\\nquerors here in Paris. Their nonchalant indifierence\\nand soldierly bearing always remind me of the sort of\\nforce the Emperor has at hand to secure his throne. I\\nthink the blouses must look askance at these satraps of\\nthe desert. The single jet fountain in the basin was\\nspringing its highest, a quivering piUar of water to\\nmatch the stone shaft of Egypt which stands close by.\\nThe sun illuminated it, and threw a rainbow from it a\\nhundred feet long, upon the white and green dome of\\nchestnut-trees near. When I was farther down the\\navenue, I had the dancing column of water, the obelisk,\\nand the Arch of Triumph all in line, and the rosy sunset\\nbeyond.\\n8", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "AN IMPERIAL REVIEW.\\nri^HE Prince and Princess of Wales came up to\\nA- Paris in the beginning of May, from Italy, Egypt,\\nand alongshore, staid at a hotel on the Place Ven-\\ndome, where they can get beef that is not horse, and\\nis rare, and beer brewed in the royal dominions, and\\nhave been entertained with cordiality by the Emperor.\\nAmong the spectacles which he has shown them, is one\\ncalculated to give them an idea of his peaceful inten-\\ntions, a grand review of cavalry and artillery at the\\nBois de Boulogne. It always seems to me a curious com\\nment upon the state of our modern civilization, that, when\\none prince visits another here in Europe, the first thing\\nthat the visited does, by way of hospitality, is to get out\\nhis troops, and show his rival how easily he could\\nlick him, if it came to that. It is a little puerile. At\\nany rate, it is an advance upon the old fashion of getting\\nup a joust at arms, and inviting the guest to come out\\nand have his head cracked in a friendly way.\\nThe review, which had been a good deal talked about,\\n3ame off in the afternoon and all the world went to it.\\nThe avenues of the Bois were crowded with carriages,\\nand the walks with footpads. Such a constellation of\\nroyal personages met on one field must be seen for,\\nbesides the imperial family and Albert Edward and his\\nDanish beauty, there was to be the Archduke of Aus-\\ntria, and no end of titled personages besides. At three\\n4) clock the royal company, in the Emperor s carriages,\\ndrove upon the training-ground of the Bois, where the\\n14", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "AN IMPERIAL RE VIE W, 1 5\\niroops awaited them. All the party, except the Princesa\\nof Wales, then mounted horses, and rode along the lines,\\nand afterwards retired to a wood-covered knoll at one\\nbnd to witness the evolutions. The training-ground is a\\nnoble, slightly-undulating piece of greensward, perhaps\\nthree-quarters of a mile long and half that in breadth,\\nhedged about with graceful trees, and bounded on one\\nside by the Seine. Its border-s were rimmed that day\\nwith thousands of people on foot and in carriag(is, a\\ngay sight, in itself, of color and fashion. A more brilliant\\nBpectacle than the field presented cannot well be ima-\\ngined. Attention was divided between the gentle emi-\\nnence where the imperial party stood, a throng of noble\\npersons backed by the gay and glittering Guard of the\\nEmperor, as brave a show as chivalry ever made,\\nand the field of green, with its long lines in martial\\narray every variety of splendid uniforms, the colors and\\ncombinations that most dazzle and attract, with shining\\nbrass and gleaming steel, and magnificent horses of war,\\nregiments of black, gray, and bay.\\nThe evolutions were such as to stir the blood of the\\nmost sluo-D-ish. A regiment, full front, would charge\\ndown upon a dead run from the far field, men shout mg,\\nsabres flashing, horses thundering along, so that the\\nground shook, towards the imperial party, and, when\\nnear, stop suddenly, wheel to right and left, and gallop\\nback. Others would succeed them rapidly, coming up the\\ncentre while their predecessors filed down the sides so\\nthat the whole field was a moving mass of splendid color\\nand glancing steel. Now and then a ridor was unhorsed\\nin the furious rush, and went scrambling out of harm,\\nvvhile the steed galloped off with free rein. This display\\nwas followed oy that of the flying artillery, battalion after\\noattalion, which came clattering and roaring along, in\\ndouble lines stretching half across the field, stopped and\\nrapidly discharged its pieces, waking up all the region\\nwith echoes^ filling the plain with the smoke of gunpow-\\nder, and starting into rearing activity all the carriage-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "i6 AN IMPERIAL REVIEW.\\nhorses in the Bois. How long this continued I do noi*\\nknow, nor how many me;i parti-^ipated in the review\\nbut they seemed to pour up from the far end in unend-\\ninor cohimns. I think the reoiments must have charo;ed\\nover and over again. It gave some people the impression\\nthat t here were a hundred thousand troops on ths\\nground. I set it at fifteen to twenty thousand. Gallig-\\nnani next morning said there were only six thousand!\\nAfter the charging was over, the reviewing party rode\\nto the centre of the field, and the troops galloped round\\nthem and the Emperor distributed decorations. We\\ncould recognize the Emperor and Empress Prince\\nAlbert in huzzar uniform, with a green plume in his cap\\nand the Prince Imperial, in cap and the uniform of a\\nlieutenant, on horseback in front while the Princess\\noccupied a carriage behind them.\\nThere was a crush of people at the entrance to see\\nthe royals make their exit. Gendarmes were busy, and\\nmounted guards went smashing through the crowd to\\nclear a space. Everybody was on the tiptoe of expec-\\ntation. There is a portion of the Emperor s guard;\\nthere is an ofiicer of the household; there is an embla-\\nzoned carriage and, quick, there with a rush they\\ncome, driving as if there was no crowd, with imperial\\nhaste, postilions and outriders and the imperial carriage.\\nThere is a sensation, a cordial and not loud greetings\\nbut no Yankee-like cheers. That heavy gentleman in\\ncitizen s dress, who looks neither to right nor left, is Na-\\npoleon III. that handsome woman, grown full in the\\nlace of late, but yet with the bloom of beauty and the\\nsweet grace of command, in hat and dark riding-habit,\\nbowing constantly to right and left, and smiling, is the\\nEmpress Eugenie. And they are gone. As we look for\\nsomething more, there is a rout in the side avenue some-\\nthing is coming, unexpected, from another quarter dra-\\ngoons dash through the dense mass, shouting and ges-\\nticulating, and a dozen horses go by, turning the corner\\nlike a small whirlwind, urged on by whip and spur, a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "AN IMFERIAL REV IE IV. 17\\nhandsome boy riding in tlie midst, a boy in cap and\\nsimple uniform, riding gracefully and easily and jauntily,\\nand out of sight in a minute. It is the boy Prince Im-\\nxjerial and his guard. It was like him to dash in unex-\\npectedly, as he has broken into the line of European\\nprinces. He rides gallantly, and Fortune smiles on him\\nto-day but he rides into a troubled future. There was\\none more show, a carriage of the Emperor, with offi-\\ncers, in English colors and side-whiskers, riding in ad-\\nvance and behind in it the future King of England,\\nthe heavy, selfish-faced young man, and beside him his\\nprincess, popular wherever she shows her winning face,\\na fair, sweet woman, in light and flowing silken stuffs\\nof spring, a vision of lovely youth and rank, also gone in\\na minute.\\nThese English visitors are enjoying the pleasures of\\nthe French capital. On Sunday, as I passed the Hotel\\nBristol, a crowd, principally English, was waiting in\\nfront of it to see the Prince and Princess come out, and\\nenter one of the Emperor s carriages in waiting. I heard\\nan Englishwoman, who was looking on with admiration\\nsticking out all over, remark to a friend in a very\\nloud whisper, I tell ?/om, the Prince lives every day of\\nhis life. The princely pair came out at length, and\\ndrove away, going to visit Versailles. I don t know\\nwhat the Queen would think of this way of spending\\nSunday; but, if Albert Edward never does any thing\\nworse, he doesn t need half the praying for that he gets\\nevery Sunday in all the English churches and chapels.\\n2*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "THE LOW COUNTRIES AND\\nRHINELAND.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGKS.\\nrilHEY have not yet found out the secret in France\\nJL of banishing dust from railway-carriages. Paris,\\nlate in June, was hot, but not dusty the country was\\nboth. There is an uninteresting glare and hardness in\\na French landscape on a sunny day. The soil is thin,\\nthe trees are slender, and one sees not much luxury or\\ncomfort. Still, one does not usually see much of either\\non a flying train. We spent a night at Amiens, and\\nhad several hours for the old cathedral, the sunset light\\non its noble front and towers and spire and flying but-\\ntresses, and the morning rays bathing its rich stone. As\\none stands near it in front, it seems to tower away into\\nheaven, a mass of carving and sculpture, figures of\\nsaints and martyrs who have stood in the sun and storm\\nfor ages, as they stood in their lifetime, with a patient\\nwaiting. It was like a great company, a Christian host,\\nin attitudes of praise and worship. There they were,\\nranks on ranks, silent in stone, when the last of the\\nlong twilight illumined them and there in the same\\nimpressive patience they waited the golden day. It\\nrequired little fancy to feel that they had lived, and now\\nin long procession came down the ages. The central\\nportal is lofty, wide, and crowded with figures. The side\\nis only less rich than the front. Here the old Gothic build-\\ners let their fancy riot in grotesque gargoyles, figures\\nof animals, and imps of sin, which stretch out their long\\nnecks for water-spouts above. From the ground to the\\ntop of the unfinished towers is one mass of rich stone\\n21", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "22 AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGES.\\nwork, the creation of genius that hundreds of years ago\\nknew no other way to write its poems than with the\\nchisel. The interior is very magnificent also, and has\\nsome splendid stained glass. At eight o clock, the\\npriests were chanting vespers to a larger congregation\\nthan many churches have on Sunday their voices\\nwere rich and musical, and, joined with the organ notes,\\nfloated sweetly and impressively through the dim and\\nvast interior. We sat near the great portal, and, look-\\ning down the Ions;, arched nave and choir to the cluster\\nof candles burning on the high altar, before which the\\npriests chanted, one could not but remember how many\\ncenturies the same act of worship had been almost un-\\ninterrupted within, while the apostles and maityrs stood\\nwithout, keeping watch of the unchanging heavens.\\nWhen I stepped in, early in the morning, the first\\nmass was in progress. The church was nearly empty.\\nLooking within the choir, I saw two stout young priests\\nlustily singing the prayers in deep, rich voices. One\\nof them leaned back in his seat, and sang away, as if he\\nhad taken a contract to do it, using, from time to time,\\nan enormous red handkerchief, with which and his nose\\nhe produced a trumpet obligato. As I stood there, a\\npoor dwarf hobbled in and knelt on the bare stones, and\\nwas the only worshipper, until, at length, a half-dozen\\npiiests swept in from the sacristy, and two processions\\nof young school-girls entered from either side. They\\nhave the skull of John the Baptist in this cathedral. 1\\ndid not see it, although I suppose I could have done so\\nfor a franc to the beadle but I saw a very good stone\\nimitation of it and his image and story fill the church.\\nIt is something to have seen the place that contains his\\nskull.\\nThe country becomes more interestmg as one gets\\ninto Belgium. Windmills are frequent in and near\\nLille are some six hundj ed of them and they are a\\ngreat help to a landscape that wants fine trees. At\\nCourtrai, we looked into Notre Dame, a thirteenth-cen", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGES. 23\\niury cathedral, which has a Vandyke The Raising of\\nthe Cross and the chapel of the Counts of Flanders,\\nwhore workmen were uncovering some frescos that were\\nwhitewashed over in the war-times. The town hall has\\ntwo fine old chimney-pieces carved in wood, with quaint\\nfio-ures, work that one must go to the Netherlands\\nto see. Toward evening we came mto the ancient town\\nof Bruges. The country all day has been mostly flat,\\nbut thoroughly cultivated. Windmills appear to do all\\nthe labor of the people, raising the water, grinding the\\ngrain, sawing the lumber and they everywhere lift their\\nlong arms up to the sky. Things look more and more\\nwhat we call foreign. Harvest is going on, of hay and\\ngrain and men and women work together in the fields.\\nThe gentle sex has its rights here. We saw several\\nwomen acting as switch-tenders. Perhaps the use of the\\nswitch comes natural to them. Justice, however, is still\\nin the hands of the men. We saw a Dutch court in\\nsession in a little room in the town hall at Courtrai.\\nThe justice wore a little red cap, and sat informally be-\\nhind a cheap table. I noticed that the witnesses were\\ntreated with unusual consideration, being allowed to sit\\ndown at the table opposite the little justice, who inter-\\nrogated them in a loud voice. At the stations to-day\\nwe see more friars in coarse, woollen dresses, and sandals,\\nand the peasants with wooden sabots.\\nAs the sun goes to the horizon, we have an efiect\\nBometiines produced by the best Dutch artists, a won-\\nderful transparent light, in which the landscape looks\\nlike a picture, with its church-spires of stone, its wind-\\nmills, its slender trees, and red-roofed houses. It is a good\\nlight and a good hour in which to enter Bruges, that\\ncity of the past. Once the city was greater than Ant-\\nwerp and up the Rege came the commerce of the East,\\nmerchants from the Levant, traders in jewels and silks.\\nNow the tall houses wait for tenants, and the streets\\nhave a deserted air. After nightfall, as we walked in\\nibe middle of the roughly-paved streets, meeting few", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "24 AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGES.\\npeople, and hearing only the echoing clatter of the\\nwooden sabots of the few who were abroad, the old\\nBpirit of the place came over us. We sat on a bench\\nin the market-place, a treeless square, hemmed in\\nby quaint, gabled houses, late in the evening, to listen to\\nthe chimes from the belfry. The tower is less than four\\nhundred feet high, and not so high by some seventy feet\\nas the one on Notre Dame near by but it is very pic-\\nturesque, in spite of the fact that it springs out of a\\nrummagy-looking edifice, one-half of which is devoted\\nto soldiers barracks, and the other to markets. The\\nchimes are called the finest in Europe. It is well to\\nhear the finest at once, and so have done with the tedious\\nthings. The Belgians are as fond of chimes as the Dutch\\nare of stagnant water. We heard them everywhere in\\nBelgium and in some towns they are incessant, jangling\\nevery seven and a half minutes. The chimes at Bruges\\nring every quarter-hour for a minute, and at the full\\nhour attempt a tune. The revolving machinery grinds\\nout the tune, which is changed at least once a year\\nand on Sundays a musician, chosen by the town, plays\\nthe chimes. In so many bells (there are forty-eight),\\nthe least of which weighs twelve pounds, and the largest\\nover eleven thousand, there must be soft notes and son-\\norous tones so sweet jangled sounds were showered\\ndown but we liked better than the confused chiming\\nthe solemn notes of the great bell striking the hour.\\nThere is something very poetical about this chime of\\nbells high in the air, flinging dovvn upon the hum and\\ntraffic of the city its oft-repeated benediction of peace\\nbut anybody but a Lowlander wouk get very weary\\nof it. These chimes, to be sure, are better than those\\nin London, which became a nuisance but there is in all\\nof them a tinkling attempt at a tune, which always fails,\\nthat is very annoying.\\nBruores has altoo;ether an odd flavor. Piles of woodeD\\nsabots are for sale in front of the shops and this ugly\\nshoe, which is mysteriously kept on the foot, is worn b}", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGES. 25\\nall the common sort. We see long, slender carts in the\\nstreet, with one horse hitched far ahead with rope traces,\\nand no thills or pole. The women nearly every one we\\nsaw wear long cloaks of black cloth with a silk hood\\nthrown back. Bruges is famous of old for its beautiful\\nwomen, who are enticingly described as always walking\\nthe streets with covered faces, and peeping out from\\ntheir mantles. They are not so handsome now they\\nshow their faces, I can testify. Indeed, if there is in\\nBruges another besides the beautiful girl who showed\\nus the old council-chamber in the Palace of Justice, she\\nmust have had her hood pulled over her face.\\n!Next morning was market-day. The square was\\nlively with carts, donkeys, and country people, and that\\nand all the streets leading to it were filled with the\\nwomen in black cloaks, who flitted about as numerous\\nas the rooks at Oxford, and very much like them, mov-\\ning in a winged way, their cloaks outspread as they\\nwalked, and distended with the market-basket under-\\nneath. Though the streets were full, the town did not\\nseem any less deserted and the early marketers had\\nonly come to life for a day, revisiting the places that once\\nthey thronged. In the shade of the tall houses in the\\nnarrow streets, sat red-cheeked girls and women making\\nlace, the bobbins jumping under their nimble fingers.\\nAt the church-doors hideous beggars crouched and\\nwhined, specimens of the fifteen thousand paupers of\\nBruges. In the fish-market we saw odd old women, with\\nRembrandt colors in faces and costume and, while we\\nstrayed about in the strange city, all the time from\\nthe lofty tower the chimes fell down. What history\\ncrowds upon us 1 Here in the old cathedral, with its\\nmonstrous tower of brick, a portion of it as old as the\\ntenth century, Philip the Good established, in 1429, the\\nOrder of the Golden Fleece, the last chapter of which\\nwas h by Philip the Bad in 1559, in the rich old\\nCathedral of St, Bavon, at Ghent. Here, on the square\\ns the site of the house where the Emperor Maximilian\\n3", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "26 AMIENS AND QUAINT OLD BRUGES.\\nwas imprisoned by his rebellious Flemings and next it,\\nwith a carved lion, that in which Charles II. of England\\nlived after the martyrdom of that patient and virtuous\\nruler, whom the English Prayer-book calls that blessed\\nmartyr, Charles the First. In Notre Dame are the\\ntombs of Charles the Bold and Mary his daughter.\\nWe begin here to enter the portals of Dutch painting.\\nHere died Jan van Eyck, the father of oil painting and\\nhere, in the hospital of St. John, are the most celebrated\\npictures of Hans Memling. The most exquisite in color\\nand finish is the series painted on the casket made to\\ncontain the arm of St. Ursula, and representing the\\nBtory of her martyrdom. You know she went on a pil\\ngrimage to Rome, with her lover, Conan, and eleven\\nthousand virgins and, on their return to Cologne, they\\nwere all massacred by the Huns. One would scarcely\\nbelieve the story, if he did not see aU tJieir bones at\\nCologne.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "GHENT AND ANTWERP.\\nWHAT can one do in this Belgium but write down\\nnames, and let memory recall the past? We\\ncame to Ghent, still a handsome city, though one thinks\\noif the days when it was the capital of Flanders, and its\\nmerchants were princes. On the shabby old belfry-\\ntower is the gilt dragon which Philip van Artevelde\\ncaptured, and brought in triumph from Bruges. It was\\noriginally fetched from a Greek church in Constantino-\\nple by some Bruges Crusader and it is a link to recall\\nto us how, at that time, the merchants of Venice and the\\nfar East traded up the Schelde, and brought to its\\nwharves the rich stuffs of India and Persia. The old\\nbell Boland, that was used to call the burghers together\\non the approach of an enemy, hung in this tower. What\\nfierce broils and bloody fights did these streets witness\\ncenturies ago 1 There in the Marche au Vendredi, a\\nlarge square of old-fashioned houses, with a statue of\\nJacques van Artevelde, fifteen hundred corpses were\\nstrewn in a quarrel between the hostile guilds of fullers\\nand brewers and here, later, Alva set blazing the fires\\nof the Inquisition. Near the square is the old cannon,\\nMad Margery, used in 1382 at the siege of Oudenarde,\\na hammered-iron hooped affair, eighteen feet long. But\\nwhy mention this, or the magnificent town hall, or St.\\nBavon, rich in pictures and statuary; or try to put you\\noack three hundred years to the wild days when the\\niconoclasts sacked this and every other church in the\\nLow Countries\\n27", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "tS GHENT AND ANTWERP.\\nUp to Antwerp toward evening. All tlie country dat\\nas the flattest part of Jersey, rich in grass and grain, cut\\nup by canals, picturesque with windmills and red-tile a\\nroofs, framed with trees in rows. It has been all day hot\\nand dusty. The country everywhere seems to need rain\\nand dark clouds are gathering in the south for a storm, as\\nwe drive up the broad Place de Meir to our hotel, and\\ntake rooms that look out to the lace-like spire of the cathe-\\ndralj which is sharply defined against the red western sky.\\nAntwerp takes hold of you, both by its present and its\\npast, very strongly. It is still the home of wealth. It\\nhas stately buildings, splendid galleries of pictures, and\\na spire of stone which charms more than a picture, and\\nfascinates the eye as music does the ear. It still keeps\\nits strong fortifications drawn around it, to which the\\nbroad and deep Scheldt is like a string to a bow, mind-\\nful of the unstable state of Europe. While Berlin is\\nonly a vast camp of soldiers, every less city must daily\\nbeat its drums, and call its muster-roll. From the tower\\nhere one looks upon the cockpit of Europe. And yet\\nAntwerp ought to have rest she has had tumult enough\\nin her time. Prosperity seems returning to her but hf r\\nold, comparative splendor can never come back. In the\\nsixteenth century there was no richer city in Europe.\\nWe walked one evening past the cathedral spire,\\nwhich begins in the richest and most solid Gothic work,\\nand grows up into the sky into an exquisite lightness and\\ngrace, down a broad street to the Scheldt. What traffic\\nhave not these high old houses looked on, when two\\nthousand and five hundred vessels lay in the river at one\\ntime, and the commerce of Europe found here its best\\nmart. Along the stream now is a not very clean prome-\\nnade for the populace and it is lined with beer-houses,\\nshabby theatres, and places of the most childish amuse-\\nments. There is an odd liking for the simple among\\nthese people. In front of th 3 booths, drums were beaten\\nand instruments played in bewildering discord. Actors\\nin paint and tights stood w thout to attract the crowd", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "GHENT AND ANTWERP. 29\\nmthin. On one low balcony, a copper- colored man,\\nmth. a huge feather cap and the traditional dress of the\\nAmerican savage, was beating two drums a burnt-cork\\nblack man stood beside him while on the steps was a\\nwoman, in hat and shawl, making an earnest speech to\\nthe crowd. In another place, where a crazy band made\\nfurious music, was an enormous go-round of wooden\\nponies, like those in the Paris gardens, only here, in-\\nstead of children, grown men and women rode the hobby-\\nhorses, and seemed delighted with the sport. In the gen-\\neral Babel, everybody was good-natured and jolly. Little\\nthings suffice to amuse the lower classes, who do not have\\nto bother their heads with elections and mass meetings.\\nIn front of the cathedral is the well, and the fine can-\\nopy of iron work, by Quentin Matsys, the blacksmith of\\nAntwerp, some of whose pictures we saw in the Museum,\\nwhere one sees also some of the tiiiest pictures of the\\nDutch school, the Crucifixion ol Kubens,the Christ\\non the Cross of Vandyke paintings also by Teniers,\\nOtto Vennius, Albert Cuyp, and others, and Rembrandt s\\nportrait of his wife, a picture whose sweet strength and\\nwealth of color draws one to it with almost a passion of\\nadmiration. We had already seen The Descent from the\\nCross and The Raising of the Cross by Rubens, in the\\ncathedral. With all his power and rioting luxuriance\\nof color, I cannot come to love him as I do Rembrandt.\\nDoubtless he painted what he saw and we still find the\\ntypes of his female figures in the broad- hipped, ruddy-\\ncolored women of Antwerp. We walked down to his\\nhouse, which remains much as it was two hundred and\\ntwenty-five years ago. From the interior court, an\\nentrance in the Italian style leads into a pleasant little\\ngarden full of old trees and flowers, with a summer-house\\nembellished with plaster casts, and having the very\\nBtone table upon which Rubens painted. It is a quiet\\nplace, and fit for an artist but Rubens had other houses\\nin the city, and lived the life of a man who took a strong\\nhold of the world.\\n3*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "AMSTERDAM.\\nTHE rail from Antwerp north was through a land\\nflat and sterile. After a little, it becomes a little\\nricher but a forlorner land to live in I never saw. One\\nwonders at the perseverance of the Flemings and Dutch-\\nmen to keep all this vast tract above water, when there\\nis so much good solid earth elsewhere unoccupied. At\\nMoerdjik we changed from the cars to a little steamer\\non the Maas, which flows between high banks. The wa-\\nter is higher than the adjoining land, and from the deck\\nwe look down upon houses and farms. At Dort, the\\nRhine comes in with little promise of the noble stream\\nit is in the highlands. Everywhere canals and ditches\\ndividing the small fields instead offences trees planted\\nin straight lines, and occasionally trained on a trellis in\\nfront of the houses, with the trunk painted white or\\ngreen so that every likeness of nature shall be taken\\naway. From Rotterdam, by cars, it is still the same.\\nThe Dutchman spends half his life, apparently, in fight-\\ning the water. He has to watch the huge dykes which\\nkeep the ocean from overwhelming him, and the river-\\nbanks, which may break, and let the floods of the Rhine\\nswallow him up. The danger from within is not less\\nthan from without. Yet so fond is he of his one enemy,\\nthat, when he can afibrd it, he builds him a fantastic\\nsummer-house over a stagnant pool or a slimy canal, in\\none corner of his garden, and there sits to enjoy the\\naquatic bea.uties of nature that is, nature as he haa\\nmade it- The river-banks are woven with osiers to keep\\n30", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "AMSTERDAM. 31\\nthem from washing and at intervals on the banks are\\npiles of the long withes to be used in emergencies when\\nthe swollen streams threaten to break through.\\nAnd so we come to Amsterdam, the oddest city of all,\\na city wholly built on piles, with as many canals as\\nstreets, and an architecture so quaint as to even impress\\none who has come from Belgium. The whole town\\nhas a wharf-y look and it is difficult to say why the tall\\nbrick houses, their gables running by steps to a peak,\\nand each one leaning forward or backward or sideways,\\nand none perpendicular, and no two on a line, are so\\ninteresting. But certainly it is a most entertaining\\nplace to the stranger, whether he explores the crowded\\nJews quarter, with its swarms of dirty people, its nar-\\nrow streets, and high houses hung with clothes, as if\\nevery day were washing-day or strolls through the\\nequally narrow streets of rich shops or lounges upon\\nthe bridges, and looks at the queer boats with clumsy\\nrounded bows, great helms, painted in gay colors, with\\nflowers in the cabin- windows, boats where families live\\nor walks down the Plantage, with the zoological gardens\\non the one hand and rows of beer-gardens on the other\\nor round the great docks or saunters at sunset by the\\nbanks of the Y, and looks upon flat North Holland\\nand the Zuyder Zee.\\nThe palace on the Dam (square) is a square, stately\\nedifice, and the only building that the stranger will care\\nto see. Its interior is richer and more fit to live in than\\nany palace we have seen. There is nothing usually so\\ndreary as your fine palace. There are some good fres\\ncos, rooms richly decorated in marble, and a magnifi-\\ncent hall, or ball-room, one hundred feet in height, with-\\nout pillars. Back of it is, of course, a canal, which does\\nnot smell fragrantly in the summer and I do not won-\\n^er that William III. and his queen prefer to stop away.\\nJrom the top is a splendid view of Amsterdam and all\\nthe flat region. I speak of it with entire impartiality,\\nfor I did not go up to see it. But better than palaces aro", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "52 AMSTERDAM.\\nthe picture-galleries, three of which are open to \\\\h^\\nBight-seer. Here the ancient and mode^-n Dutch paint-\\ners are seen at their best, and I know of no richer feast\\nof this sort. Here Rembrandt is to be seen in his glory\\nhere Yan der Heist, Jan Steen, Gerard Douw Teniers\\nthe younger, Hondekoeter, Weenix, Ostade, Cuyp, and\\nother names as familiar. These men also painted what\\nthey saw, the people, the landscapes, with which they\\nwere familiar. It was a strange pleasure to meet again\\nand again in the streets of the town the faces, or types\\nof them, that we had just seen on canvas so old.\\nIn the Low Countries, the porters have the grand title\\nof commissionaires. They carry trunks and bundles,\\nblack boots, and act as valeis de place. As guides, they\\nare quite as intolerable in Amsterdam as their brethren\\nin other cities. Many of them are Jews and they have\\na keen eye for a stranger. The moment he sallies from\\nhis hotel, there is a guide. Let him hesitate for an\\ninstant in his walk, either to look at something or to\\nconsult his map, or let him ask the way, and he will\\nhave a half-dozen of the persistent guild upon him and\\nthey cannot easily be shaken off. The afternoon we\\narrived, we had barely got into our rooms at Brack s\\nOude Doelan, when a gray-headed commissionaire\\nknocked at our door, and offered his services to show ua\\nthe city. We deferred the pleasure of his valuable so-\\nciety. Shortly, when we came down to the street, a\\nsmartly-dressed Israelite took off his hat to us, and\\noffered to show us the city. We declined with impres-\\nsive politeness, and walked on. The Jew accompanied\\nus, and attempted conversation, in which we did not\\njoin. He would show us every thing for a guilder an\\nhour, for half a guilder. Having plainly told the Jew\\nthat we did not desire his attendance, he crossed to the\\nother side of the street, and kept us in sight, biding his\\nopportunity. At the end of the street, we hesitated a\\nmoment whether to cross the bridge or turn up by the\\ntread canal. The Jew was at our side in a moment^", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "AMSTERDAM. 3^\\nhaving diviiii )d that we were on tlie way to tlie Dam ar d\\nthe palace. He obligingly pointed the way, and began\\nto walk vvioli \u00c2\u00abs, entering into conversation. We told\\nhim pointedly, that we did not desire his services, and\\nrequested him to leave us. He still walked in our direc-\\ntion, with the air of one much injured, but forgiving, and\\nwas more than once beside us with a piece of informa-\\ntion. When we finally turned upon him with great\\nfierceness, and told him to begone, he regarded us with a\\nmournful and pitying expression and as the last act of\\none who returned good for evil, before he turned away,\\npointed out to us the next turn we were to make. I saw\\nhim several times afterward and I once had occasion to\\nsay to him, that I had already told him I would not em-\\nploy him and he always lifted his hat, and looked at me\\nwith a forgiving smile. I felt that I had deeply wronged\\nhim. As we stood by the statue, looking up at the east-\\nern pediment of the palace, another of the tribe (they\\nall speak a little English) asked me if I wished to see\\nthe palace. I told him I was looking at it, and could\\nsee it quite distinctly. Half a dozen more crowded\\nround, and proffered their aid. Would I like to go into\\nthe palace They knew, and I knew, that they could do\\nnothing more than go to the open door, through which\\nthey would not be admitted, and that I could walk across\\nthe open square to that, and enter alone. I asked the\\nfirst speaker if he wished to go into the palace. Oh,\\nyes he would like to go. I told him he had better go at\\nonce, they had all better go in together and see the\\npalace, it was an excellent opportunity. They seemed\\nto see the point, and slunk away to the other side to wait\\nfor another stranger.\\nI find that this plan works very well with guides\\nwhen I see one approaching, I at once offer to guid^\\nhim. It is an idea from which he does not rally in time\\nio annoy us. The other day I offered to show a persist\\nent fellow through an old ruin for fifty kreuzers aa\\nais price for showing me was forty-eight, we did not", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "54 AMSTERDAM.\\npome to terms. One of the most remarkable guides, by\\nthe way, we encountered at Stratfbrd-on-Avon. As we\\nwalked down from the Red Horse Inn to the church, a\\nfull-grown boy came bearing down upon us in the most\\nwonderful fashion. Early rickets, I think, had been suc-\\nceeded by the St. Vitus dance. He came down upon\\nus sideways, his legs all in a tangle, and his right arm,\\nbent and twisted, going round and round, as if in vain\\nefforts to get into his pocket, his fingers spread out in\\nimpotent desire to clutch something. There was great\\ndanger that he would run into us, as he was like a\\nsteamer with only one side-wheel and no rudder. He\\ncame up puffing and blowing, and offered to show us\\nShakespeare s tomb. Shade of the past, to be accompa-\\nnied to thy resting-place by such an object! But he\\nfastened himself on us, and jerked and hitched along in\\nhis side-wheel fashion. We declined his help. He pad-\\ndled on, twisting himself into knots, and grinning in the\\nmost friendly manner. We told him to begone. I\\nam, said he, wrenching himself into a new contortion,\\nI am what showed Artemus Ward round Stratford.\\nThis information he repeated again and again, as if we\\ncould not resist him after we had comprehended that.\\nWe shook him off; but when we returned at sundown\\nacross the fields, from a visit to Anne Hathaway s cot-\\ntage, we met the side-wheeler cheerfully towing along a\\nlarge party, upon whom he had fastened.\\nThe people of Amsterdam are only less queer than\\ntheir houses. The men dress in a solid, old-fashioned\\nway. Every one wears the straight, high-crowned silk\\nhat, that went out with us years ago, and the cut of\\nclotbino; of even the most buckish young fellows is\\nbehind the times. I stepped into the Exchange, an\\nimmense interior, that will hold five thousand people,\\nwhere the stock-gamblers meet twice a day. It was\\nvery different from the terrible excitement and noise of\\nthe Paris Bourse. There were three or four thousand\\nbrokers there, yet there was very little noise and no con-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "AMSTERDAM, 35\\nfusion. No stocks were called, and there was no central\\nring for bidding, as at the Bourse and the New York\\nGold Room but they quietly bought and sold. Some 01\\nthe leading firms had desks or tables at the side, and\\nthere awaited orders. Every thing was phlegmatically\\nand decorously done.\\nIn the streets one still sees peasant-women in native\\ncostume. There was a group to-day that I saw by the\\nriver, evidently just crossed over from North Holland.\\nThey wore short dresses, with the upper skirt looped\\nup, and had broad hips and big waists. On the head\\nwas a cap with a fall of lace behind across the back\\nof the head a broad band of silver (or tin) three inches\\nbroad, which terminated in front and just above the ears\\nin bright pieces of metal about two inches square, like a\\nhorse s blinders, only flaring more from the head across\\nthe forehead and just above the eyes a gilt band, em-\\nbossed on the temples two plaits of hair in circular\\ncoils and on top of all a straw hat, like an old-fashioned\\nbonnet, stuck on hindside before. Spiral coils of brass\\nwire, coming to a point in front, are also worn on each\\nside of the head by many. Whether they are for orna-\\nment or defence, I could not determine.\\nWater is brought into the city now from Haarlem, and\\nintroduced into the best houses but it is still sold in the\\nstreets by old men and women, who sit at the faucets. I\\nsaw one dried-up old grandmother, who sat in her little\\ncaboose, fighting away the crowd of dirty children who\\ntried to steal a drink when her back was turned, keep-\\ning count of the pails of water carried away with a piece\\nof chalk on the iron pipe, and trying to darn her stock-\\ning at the same time. Odd things strike you at every\\nturn. There is a sledge drawn by one poor horse, and\\non the front of it is a cask of water pierced with holes,\\nBO that the water squirts out and wets the stones, making\\nit easier sliding for the runners. It is an ingenious\\n^)eople I\\nAfter all, we drove out five miles to Broek, the clear", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "36 AMSTERDAM.\\nvillage across the Y, up the canal, over flatness flat-\\ntened. Broek is a humbug, as almost all show places\\nare. A wooden little village on a stagnant canal, into\\nwhich carriages do not drive, and where the front-doors\\nthe houses are never open a dead, uninteresting\\nplace, neat but not specially pretty, where you are\\nshown into one house got up for the purpose, which\\nlooks inside like a crockery shop, and has a stiff Httle\\ngarden with box trained in shapes of animals and furni-\\nture. A roomy-breeched young Dutchman, whose trou-\\nsers went up to his neck, and his hat to a peak, walked\\nbefore us in slow and cowlike fashion, and showed us\\nthe place especially some horrid pleasure-grounds, with\\nan image of an old man reading in a summer-house, and\\nan old couple in a cottage who sat at a table and\\nworked, or ate, I forget which, by clock-work while a\\ndog barked by the same means. In a pond was a wooden\\nswan sitting on a stick, the water having receded, and\\nleft it high and dry. Yet the trip is worth while for the\\nview of the country and the people on the way men\\nand women towing boats on the canals the red-tiled\\nhouses painted green, and in the distance the villages,\\nwith their spires and pleasing mixture of brown, green,\\nand red tints, are very picturesque. The best thing\\nthat I saw, however, was a traditional Dutchman walk-\\ning on the high bank of a canal, with soft hat, short pipe,\\nand breeches that came to the armpits above, and a little\\nbelow the knees, and were broad enough about the seat\\nand thighs to carry his no doubt numerous family. He\\nmade a fine figure against the sky.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "COLOGNE AND ST. URSULA.\\nIT is a relief to get out of Holland and into a coun-\\ntry nearer to hills. The people also seem more\\nobliging. In Cologne, a brown-cheeked girl pointed us\\nout the way without waiting for a kreuzer. Perhaps the\\nwomen have more to busy themselves about in the cities,\\nand are not so curious about passers-by. We rarely see\\na reflector to exhibit us to the occupants of the second-\\nstory windows. In all the cities of Belgium and Holland\\nthe ladies have small mirrors, with reflectors, fastened\\nto their windows so that they can see everybody who\\npasses, without putting their heads out. I trust we are\\nnot inverted or thrown out of shape when we are thus\\n^.iaught up and cast into my lady s chamber. Cologne\\nhas a cheerful look, for the Rhine here is wide and prom-\\nising and as for the smells, they are certainly not\\nBO many nor so vile as those at Mainz.\\nOur windows at the hotel looked out on the finest\\nfront of the cathedral. If the Devil really built it, he is\\nto be credited with one good thing, and it is now likely\\nto be finished, in spite of him. Large as it is, it is on\\nthe exterior not so impressive as that at Amiens but\\nwithin it has a magnificence born of a vast design and\\nthe most harmonious proportions, and the grand effect\\nis not broken by any subdivision but that of the choir.\\nBehind the altar and in front of the chapel, where lie\\nthe remains of the Wise Men of the East who came to\\nworship the Child, or, as they are called, the Three Kinga\\ni f Cologne, we walked over a stone in the pavement\\n37", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "38 COLOGNE AND ST. URSULA.\\nunder wliich is the heart of Mary de Medicis the re-\\nmainder of her body is in St. Denis, near Paris. Tho\\nbeadle in red clothes, who stalks about the cathedral\\nlike a converted flamingo, offered to open for us the\\nchapel but we declined a sight of the very bones of the\\nWise Men. It wa? difficult enough to believe they were\\nthere, without seeing them. One ought not to subject\\nhis faith to too great a strain at first in Europe. The\\nbones of the Three Kings, by the way, made the fortune\\nof the cathedral. They were the greatest religious card\\nof the Middle Ages, and their fortunate possession\\nbrought a flood of wealth to this old Domkirche. The\\nold feudal lords would swear by the Almighty Father,\\nor the Son, or Holy Ghost, or by every thing sacred on\\nearth, and break their oaths as they would break a wisp\\nof straw but, if you could get one of them to swear by\\nthe Three Kings of Cologne, he was fast for that oath\\nhe dare not disregard.\\nThe prosperity of the cathedral on these valuable\\nbones set all the other churches in the neighborhood on\\nthe same track and one can study right here in this\\ncity the growth of relic worship. But the most success-\\nful achievement was the collection of the bones of St.\\nUrsula and the eleven thousand virgins, and their pres-\\nervation in the church on the very spot where they\\nsuifered martyrdom. There is probably not so large a\\ncollection of the bones of virgins elsewhere in the world j\\nand I am sorry to read that Professor Owen has thought\\nproper to see and say that many of them are the bones\\nof lower orders of animals. They are built into the walls\\nof the church, arranged about the choir, interred in stone\\ncoffins, laid under the pavements and their skulls grin\\nat you everywhere. In the chapel the bones are taste-\\nfully built into the wall and overhead, like rustic wood-\\nwork and the skulls stand in rows, some with silver\\nmasks, like the jars on the shelves of an apothecary s\\nshop. It is a cheerful place. On the little altar is the\\nvery skull of the saint herself, and that of Conan, her", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "COLOGNE AND ST. URSULA. 39\\n.over, Mho made the holy pilgrimage to Rome with\\nher and her virgins, and also was slain by the Huns at\\nCologne. There is a picture of the eleven thousand dis-\\nembarking from one boat on the Rhine, which is as\\nwonderful as the trooping of hundreds of spirits out of a\\nconjurer s bottle. The right arm of St. Ursula is pre-\\nserved here the left is at Bruges. I am gradually get-\\nting the hang of this excellent but somewhat scattered\\nwoman, and bringing her together in my mind. Her\\nbody, I believe, lies behind the altar in this same church.\\nShe must have been a lovely character, if Hans Memling s\\nportrait of her is a faithful one. I was glad to see here\\none of the jars from the marriage-supper in Cana. We\\ncan identify it by a piece which is broken out and the\\npiece is in Notre Dame in Paris. It has been in this\\nchurch five hundred years. The sacristan, a very intel-\\nligent person, with a shaven crown and his hair cut\\nstraight across his forehead, who showed us the church,\\ngave us much useful information about bones, teeth, and\\nthe remains of the garments that the virgins wore and\\nI could not tell from his face how much he expected us\\nto believe. I asked the little fussy old guide of an\\nEnglish party who had joined us, how much he believed\\nof the story. He was a Protestant, and replied, still\\nanxious to keep up the credit of his city, Tou sands\\nis too many; some hundreds maybe; tousands is too\\nmany/", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "A GLIMPSE OF THE RHINE.\\nYOU have seen tlie Rhine in pictures; you have\\nread its legends. You know, in imagination at\\nleast, how it winds among craggy hills of splendid form,\\nturning so abruptly as to leave you often shut in with no\\nvisible outlet from the wall of rock and forest how the\\ncastles, some in ruins so as to be as unsightly as any old\\npile of rubbish, others with feudal towers and battle-\\nments, still perfect, hanging on the crags, or standing\\nsharp against the sky, or nestling by the stream, or on\\nsome lonely island. You know that the Rhine has been\\nto Germans what the Nile was to the Egyptians, a\\ndelight, and the theme of song and story. Here the\\nRoman eagles were planted here were the camps of\\nDrusus here Caesar bridged and crossed the Rhine\\nhere, at (overy turn, a feudal baron, from his high castle,\\nlevied toll on the passers and here the French found\\na momentary halt to their invasion of Germany at dif-\\nferent times. You can imagine how, in a misty morn-\\ning, as you leave Bonn, the Seven Mountains rise up in\\ntheir veiled might, and how the Drachenfels stands in new\\nand changing beauty as you pass it and sail away. You\\nhave been told that the Hudson is like the Rhine. Be-\\nlieve me, there is no resemblance nor would there be\\nif the Hudson were lined with castles, and Julius Caesar\\nhad crossed it every half-mile. The Rhine satisfies you,\\nand you do not recall any other river. It only disap-\\npoints you as to its vine-clad hills. You miss trees\\nand a covering vegetation, and are not enamoured of the\\n40", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "A GLIMPSE OF THE RHINE. 41\\npatolies of green vines on wall-supported terraces, look-\\ning from the river like hills of beans or potatoes. And,\\nif you try the Ehine wine on the steamers, you will\\nwholly lose your faith in the vintage. We decided that\\nthe wine on our boat was manufactured in the boiler.\\nThere is a mercenary atmosphere about hotels and\\nsteamers on the Ehine, a watering-place, show-sort of\\nfeeling, that detracts very much from one s enjoyment.\\nThe old habit of the robber barons of levying toll on all\\nwho sail up and down has not been lost. It is not that\\nI one actually pays so much for sight-seeing, but the charm\\nof any thing vanishes when it is made merchandise.\\nOne is almost as reluctant to buy his views as he is\\nto sell his opinions. But one ought to be weeks on the\\nRhine before attempting to say any thing about it.\\nOne morning, at Bingen, I assure you it was not\\ngix o clock, we took a big little row-boat, and dropped\\ndown the stream, past the Mouse Tower, where the crueJ\\nBishop Hatto was eaten up by rats, under the shattered\\nCastle of Ehrenfels, round the bend to the little village\\nof Assmannshausen, on the hills back of which is grown\\nthe famous red wine of that name. On the bank walked\\nin line a dozen peasants, men and women, in picturesque\\ndress, towing, by a line passed from shoulder to shoulder,\\na boat filled with marketing for Eiidesheim. We were\\nbound up the Niederwald, the mountain opposite Bin-\\ngen, whose noble crown of forest attracted us. At the\\nlanding, donkeys awaited us and we began the ascent,\\na stout, good-natured German girl acting as guide and\\ndriver. Behind us, on the opposite shore, set round\\n\u00c2\u00abbout with a wealth of foliage, was the Castle of Rhein-\\nBtein, a fortress more pleasing in its proportions and\\nsituation than any other. Our way was through the\\nlittle town which is jammed into the gorge; and as we\\nclattered up the pavement, past the church, its heavy\\nbell began to ring loudly for matins, the sound rever-\\nberating in the narrow way, and foUcwir.g u? with its\\noenediction when we w( ,re far up the 1ll\\\\\\\\ bfeiithing the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "42 A GLIMPSE OF THE RHINE.\\nfresh, inspiring morning air. The top of the Niederwald\\nis a splendid forest of trees, which no impious French-\\nman has been allowed to trim, and cut into allees of\\narches, taking one in thought across the water to the\\nfree Adirondacks. We walked for a long time under\\nthe welcome shade, approaching the brow of the hill\\nnow and then, where some tower or hermitage is erected,\\nfor a view of the Rhine and the Nahe, the villages below,\\nand the hills around and then crossed the mountain,\\ndown through cherry orchards, and vineyards, walled up,\\nwith images of Christ on the cross on the angles of the\\nwalls, down through a hot road, where wild-iiowers grew\\nin great variety, to the quaint village of Riidesheim,\\nwith its queer streets and ancient ruins. Is it possible\\nthat we can have too many ruins Oh, dear 1 ex-\\nclaimed the jung-frau, as we sailed along the last day,\\nif th(jre isn t another castle I", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "HEIDELBERG.\\nJF you come to Heidelberg, you will never want to gc\\naway. To arrive here is to come into a peaceful\\nstate of rest and content. The great hills out of which\\nthe Neckar flows infold the town in a sweet security\\nand yet there is no sense of imprisonment, for the view\\nis always wide open to the great plains where the Neckar\\ngoes to join the Rhine, and where the Rhine runs for\\nmany a league through a rich and smiling land. One\\ncould settle down here to study, without a desire to go\\nfarther, nor any wish to change the dingy, shabby old\\nbuildings of the university for any thing newer and\\nsmarter. What the students can find to fight their\\nlittle duels about I cannot see but fight they do, as\\nmany a scarred cheek attests. The students give life to\\nthe town. They go about in little caps of red, green, and\\nblue, many of them embroidered in gold, and stuck so far\\non the forehead that they require an elastic, like that\\nworn by ladies, under the back hair, to keep them on\\nand they are also distinguished by colored ribbons across\\nthe breast. The majority of them are well-behaved\\nyoung gentlemen, who carry switch-canes, and try to\\nkeep near the fashions, like students at home. Some\\nlike to swagger about in their little skull-caps, and now\\nand then one is attended by a bull-dog.\\nI write in a room which opens out upon a balcony.\\nBelow it is a garden, below that foliage, and farther\\nJown the town with its old speckled roofs, spires, and\\nijueer littiC squares. Beyond ig the Neckar, with the\\n43", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "44 HEIDELBERG,\\nbridge, and white statues on it, and an old city gate at\\nthis end, with pointed towers. Beyond that is a white\\nroad with a wall on one side, along which I see peasant-\\nwomen walking with large baskets .balanced on their\\nheads. The road runs down the river to Neuenheim.\\nAbove it on the steep hillside are vineyards and a\\nwinding path goes up to the Philosopher s Walk, which\\nruns along for a mile or more, giving delightful views of\\nthe castle and the glorious woods and hills back of it,\\nAbove it is the mountain of Heiligenberg, from the other\\nside of which one looks off toward Darmstadt and the\\nfamous road, the Bergstrasse. If I look down the stream,\\nI see the narrow town, and the Neckar flowing out of it\\nInto the vast level plain, rich with grain and trees and\\ngrass, with many spires and villages Mannheim to the\\nnorthward, shining when the sun is low the Ehine\\ngleaming here and there near the horizon; and the\\nVosges Mountains, purple in the last distance on my\\nright, and so near that I could throw a stone into them,\\nthe ruined tower and battlements of the north-west corner\\nof the castle, half hidden in foliage, with statues framed\\nin ivy, and the garden terrace, built for Elizabeth Stuart\\nwhen she came here the bride of the Elector Frederick,\\nwhere giant trees grow. Under the walls a steep path\\ngoes down into the town, along which little houses cling\\nto the hillside. High above the castle rises the noble\\nKonigstuhl, whence the whole of this part of Germany\\nis visible, and, in a clear day, Strasburg Minster, ninety\\nmiles away.\\nI have only to go a few steps up a narrow, steep street,\\n^ined with the queerest houses, where is an ever-run-\\nning pipe of good water, to which all the neighborhood\\nresorts, and I am within the grounds of the castle. I\\nscarcely know where to take you for I never know\\nwhere to go myself, and seldom do go where I intend\\nwhen I set forth. We have been here several days and\\n1 have not yet seen the Great Tun, nor the inside of the\\niliow-rooms, nor scarcely any thing that is set down as a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "HEIDELBERG. 45\\nsiglit. I do not know whether to wander on through\\nthe extensive grounds, with splendid trees, bits of old\\nruin, overgrown, cosey nooks, and seats where, through\\nthe foliage, distant prospects open into quiet retreats\\nthat lead^ to winding walks up the terraced hill, round to\\nthe open terrace overlooking the Neckar, and giving the\\nbest general view of the great mass of ruins. K we do,\\nwe shall be likely to sit in some delicious place, listen-\\ning to the band playing in the Restauration, and to\\nthe nightingales, till the moon comes up. Or shall we\\nturn into the garden through the lovely Arch of the\\nPrincess Elizabeth, with its stone columns cut to resem-\\nble tree-trunks twined with ivy Or go rather through\\nthe great archway, and under the teeth of the portcul-\\nlis, into the irregular quadrangle, whose buildings mark\\nthe changing style and fortune of successive centuries,\\nfrom 1300 down to the seventeenth century There is\\nprobably no richer quadrangle in Europe there is cer-\\ntainly no other ruin so vast, so impressive, so ornamented\\nwithcarving, except the Alhambra. And from here we\\npass out upon the broad terrace of masonry, with a\\nsplendid flanking octagon tower, its base hidden in trees,\\na rich facade for a background, and below the town the\\nriver, and beyond the plain and floods of golden sun-\\nlight. What shall we do Sit and dream in the Eent\\nTower under the lindens that grow in its top The day\\npasses while one is deciding how to spend it, and thtt\\nBun over Heiligenb^rg goes down on his purpose.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "ALPINE NOTES.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "ENTERING SWITZERLAND. BERNE,\\nITS BEAUTIES AND BEARS.\\nIF you come to Bale, you should take rooms on the\\nriver, or stand on the bridge at evening, and have\\na sunset of gold and crimson streaming down upon\\nthe wide and strong Rhine, where it rushes between\\nthe houses built plumb up to it, or you will not care\\nmuch for the city. And yet it is pleasant on the high\\nground, where are some stately buildings, and where.\\nnew gardens are laid out, and where the American\\nconsul on the Fourth of July flies our flag over the\\nbalcony of a little cottage smothered in vines and gay\\nwith flowers. I had the honor of saluting it that day,\\nthough I did not know at the time that gold had risen\\ntwo or three per cent under its blessed folds at home.\\nNot being a shipwrecked sailor, or a versatile and accom-\\nplished but impoverished naturalized citizen, desirous\\nof quick transit to the land of the free, I did not call\\nupon the consul, but left him under the no doubt cor-\\nrect impression that he was doing a good thing by un-\\nfoldino; the flag; on the Fourth.\\nYou have not journeyed far from B\u00c2\u00a7,le before you are\\naware that you are in Switzerland. It was showery the\\nday we went down but the ride filled us with the most\\nexciting expectations. The country recalled New Eng-\\nland, or what New England might be, if it were culti-\\nvated and adorned, and had good roads and no fences.\\nHere at last, after the dusty German valleys, we entered\\namong real hills, round which and through which, by\\n49", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "50 ENTERING SWITZERL AND,\\nenormous tunnels, our train slowly went rocks looking\\nout of foliage sweet little valleys, green as in early\\nspring the dark evergreens in contrast snug cottages\\nnestled in tlio hillsides, showing little else than enor-\\nmous brown roofs that come nearly to the ground, giving\\nthe cottages the appearance of huge toadstools; fine\\nharvests of grain thrifty apple-trees, and cherry-trees\\npurple with luscious fruit. And this shifting panorama\\ncontinues until, towards evening, behold, on a hill, Berne,\\nshinino; through showers, the old feudal round tower and\\nbuildings overhanging the Aar, and the tower of the\\ncathedral over all. From the balcony of our rooms at\\nthe Bellevue, the long range of the Bernese Oberland\\nshows its white summits for a moment in the slant sun-\\nshine, and then the clouds shut down, not to lift again\\nfor two days. Yet it looks warmer on the snow peaks\\nthan in Berne, for summer sets in in Switzerland with a\\nNew England chill and rigor.\\nThe traveller finds no city with more flavor of the\\npicturesque and quaint than Berne and I think it must\\nhave preserved the Swiss characteristics better than any\\nother of the large towns in Helvetia. It stands upon a\\npeninsula, round which the Aar, a hundred feet below,\\nrapidly flows and one has on nearly every side very\\npretty views of the green basin of hills which rise beyond\\nthe river. It is a most comfortable town on a rainy day\\nfor all the principal streets have their houses built on\\narcades, and one walks under the low arches, with the\\nshops on one side and the huge stone pillars on the\\nother. These pillars so stand out toward the street as\\nto give the house-fronts a curved look. Above are bal-\\nconies, in which, upon red cushions, sit the daughters of\\nBerne, reading and sewing, and watching their neigh-\\nbors; and in every window nearly are quantities of\\nflowers of the most brilliant colors. The gray stone of\\nthe houses, which are piled up from the streets, harmo*\\nnizes well with the colors in the windows and balconies\\nand the scene is quite Oriental as one looks down, esp", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "BERNE, ITS BEAUTIES AND BEARS. 51\\ncially if it be upon a market morning, when the streets\\narc as thronged as the Strand. Several terraces, with\\ngreat trees, overlook the river, and command prospects\\nof the Alps. Tliese are public places for the city gov-\\nernment has a queer notion that trees are not hideous,\\nand that a part of the use of living is the enjoyment of\\nthe beautiful. I saw an elegant bank building, with\\ncarved figures on the front, and at each side of iho\\nentrance door a large stand of flowers, oleanders^ gera-\\nniums, and fuchsias while the windows and balconies\\nabove bloomed with a like warmth of floral color.\\nWould you put an American bank president in the Re-\\ntreat who should so decorate his banking-house We\\nall admire the tasteful display of flowers in foreign\\ntowns we go home, and carry nothing with us but a\\nrecollection. But Berne has also fountains everywhere\\nsome of them grotesque, like the ogre that devours his\\nown children, but all a refreshment and delight. And\\nit has also its clock-tower, with one of those ingenious\\npieces of mechanism, in which the sober people of this\\nregion take pleasure. At the hour, a procession of little\\nbelrs goes round, a jolly figure strikes the time, a cock\\nflaps his wings and crows, and a solemn Turk opens his\\nmouth to announce the flight of the hours. It is more\\ngrotesque, but less elaborate, than the equally childish\\ntoy in the cathedral at Strasburg.\\nWe went Sunday morning to the cathedral and the ex-\\ncellent woman who guards the portal where in ancient\\nstone the Last Judgment is enacted, and the cheerful and\\nconceited wise virgins stand over against the foolish vir-\\ngins, one of whom has been in the penitential attitude\\nof having a stone finger in her eye now for over three\\nhundred years refused at first to admit us to the German\\nLutheran service, which was just beginning. It seems\\nthat doors are locked, and no one is allowed to issue\\nforth until after service. There seems to be an impres-\\nsion that strangers oulv go to hear the organ, which is a\\nsort of rival of that at Freib irg, ar.i do not care much", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "52 ENTER. NG SWITZERLAND.\\nfor the -vvell-prepared and protracted discourse in Swiss-\\nGerman. We ao:reed to the terms of admission but it\\ndid not speak well for former travellers that the woman\\nshould think it necessary to say, You must sit still, ami\\nnot talk. It is a barn-like interior. The women all sii\\non hard, high-backed benches in the centre of the church,\\nand the men on hard, higher-backed benches about the\\nsides, enclosing and facing the women, who are more\\ndirectly under the droppings of the little pulpit, hung\\non one of the pillars, a very solemn and devout con-\\ngregation, who sang very well, and paid strict attention\\nto the sermon. I noticed that the names of the owners,\\nand sometimes their coats-of-arms, were carved or\\npainted on the backs of the seats, as if the pews were\\nnot put up at yearly auction. One would not call it a\\ndressy congregation, though the homely women looked\\nneat in black waists and white puffed sleeves and broad-\\nbrimmed hats.\\nThe only concession I have anywhere seen to women\\nin Switzerland, as the more delicate sex, was in this\\nchurch they sat during most of the service, but the\\nmen stood all the time, except during the delivery of\\nthe sermon. The service began at nine o clock, as it\\nought to with us in summer. The costume of the peas-\\nant-women in and about Berne comes nearer to being\\npicturesque than in most other parts of Switzerland,\\nwhere it is simply ugly. You know the sort of thing in\\npictures, the broad hat, short skirt, black, pointed stom-\\nacher, with white puffed sleeves, and from each breast a\\nlarge silver chain hanging, which passes under the arm\\nand fastens on the shoulder behind, a very favorite\\nornament. This costume would not be unbecoming to\\na pi etty face and figure whether there are any such\\nnative to Switzerland, I trust I may not be put upon the\\nwitness-stand to declare. Some of the peasant young\\nnen went without coats, and with the shirt-sleeves\\nfluted and others wore butternut-colored suits, the coati\\not which can recommend to those who like the swaJ", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "BERNE, ITS BEAUTIES AND BEARS. 53\\now-tailed variety. I suppose one would take a man\\ninto the opera in London, where he cannot go in any\\nIhing but that sort. The buttons on the backs of these\\ncame high up between the shoulders, and the tails did\\nnot reach below the waistband. There is a kind of\\nrooster of similar appearance. I saw some of these\\nyoung men from the country, with their sweethearts,\\nleaning over the stone parapet, and looking into the pit\\nof the bear-garden, where the city bears walk round, or\\nsit on their hind legs for bits of bread thrown to them,\\nor douse themselves in the tanks, or climb the dead trees\\nset up for their gambols. Years ago they ate up a British\\nofEcer who fell in and they walk round now ceaselessly,\\nas if looking for another. But one cannot expect good\\ntaste in a bear.\\nIf you would see how charming a farming country can\\nbe, drive out on the highway towards Thun. For miles\\nit is well shaded with giant trees of enormous trunks,\\nand a clean sidewalk runs by the fine road. On either\\nside, at little distances from the road, are picturesque\\ncottages and rambling old farmhouses peeping from the\\ntrees and vines and flowers. Everywhere flowers, be-\\nfore the house, in the windows, at the railway stations.\\nBut one cannot stay forever even in delightful Berne,\\nwith its fountains and terraces, and girls on red cushions\\nin the windows, and noble trees and flowers, and its\\nstately federal Capitol, and its bears carved everywhere\\nin stone and wood nor its sunrises, when all the Bernese\\nAlps lie like molten silver in the early light, and the\\nc loads drift over them, now hiding, lOW disclosing, th\u00c2\u00ab\\nba( hanting heights.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "HEARING THE FREIBURG ORGAN.\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nFIRST SIGHT OF LAKE LEMAN.\\nFREIBURG, witli its aerial suspension-bridges, is\\nalso on a peninsula, formed by the Sarine with its\\nold walls, old watch-towers, its piled-up old houses, and\\nstreets that go up stairs, and its delicious cherries, which\\nyou can eat while you sit in the square by the famous\\nlinden-tree, and wait for the time when the organ will\\nbe played in the cathedral. For all the world stops at\\nFreiburg to hear and enioy the great organ, all except\\nthe self-satisfied English clergyman, who says he doesn t\\ncare much for it, and would rather go about town and\\nsee the old walls; and the young and boorish French\\ncouple, whose refined amusement in the railway-carriage\\nconsisted in the young man*a catching his wife s foot in\\nthe window-strap, and hauling it up to the level of the\\nwindow, and who cross themselves and go out after the\\nfirst tune and the two bread-and-butter English young\\nladies, one of whom asks the other in the midst of the\\nperformance, if she has thought yet to count the pipes,\\na thoughtful verification of Murray, which is very\\ncommendable in a young woman travelling for the im\\nprovement of her little mind.\\nOne has heard so much of this organ, that he expects\\nimpossibilities, and is at first almost disappointed, al-\\nthough it is not long in discovering its vast compass,\\nand its wonderful imitations, now of a full orchestra,\\nand again of a single instrument. One has not to wait\\nlong before he is mastered by its spell. The vox Jiumana\\n54", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "HEARING THE FREIBURG ORGAN. 55\\nKop did not strike me as so perfect as tliat of the organ\\nin the Rev. Mr. Hale s church in Boston, though the\\nimitation of choir-voices responding to the organ was\\nvery effective. But it is not in tricks of imitation that\\nthis organ is so wonderful it is its power of revealing,\\nby all its compass, the inmost part of any musical com-\\nposition.\\nThe last piece we heard was something like this:\\nthe sound of a bell, tolling at regular intervals, like the\\nthrobbing of a life begun about it an accompaniment\\nof hopes, inducements, fears, the tlute, the violin, the\\nvioloncello, promising, urging, entreating, inspiring the\\nlife beset with trials, lured with pleasures, hesitating,\\ndoubting, questioning its purpose at length grows more\\ncertain and fixed, the bell tolling becomes a prolonged\\nundertone, the flow of a definite life the music goes on,\\ntwining round it, now one sweet instrument and now\\nmany, in strife or accord, all the influences of earth and\\nheaven and the base under world meeting and warring\\nover the aspiring soul the struggle becomes more earnest,\\nthe undertone is louder and clearer the accompaniment\\nindicates striving, contesting passion, an agony of en-\\ndeavor and resistance, until at length the steep and rocky\\nway is passed, the world and self are conquered, and, in\\na burst of triumph from a full orchestra, the soul attains\\nthe serene summit. But the rest is only for a moment.\\nEven in the highest places are temptations. The sun-\\nshine fails, clouds roll up, growling of low, pedal thun-\\nder is heard, while sharp lightning-flashes soon break in\\nclashing peals about the peaks. This is the last Alpine\\nBtorm and trial. After it the sun bursts out again, the\\nwide, sunny valleys are disclosed, and a sweet evening\\nhymn floats through all the peaceful air. We go out\\nfrom the cool church into the busy streets of the white,\\ngray town awed and comforted.\\nAnd such a ride afterwards It was as if the organ\\nmusic still continued. All the world knows the exquisite\\ndews southward from Freiburg out such an atmosphere", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "56 FIRST SIGHT OF LAKE LRMAN.\\nRs we had does not overhang them many times in a bca\\nBon. First the Moleross, and a range of mountains\\nbathed in misty blue light, rugged peaks, scarred sides,\\nwhite and tawny at once, rising into the clouds which\\nhung large and soft in the blue soon Mont Blanc, dim\\nand aerial, in the south the lovely valley of the River\\nSense; peasants walking with burdens on the white\\nhighway the quiet and soft-tinted mountains beyond\\ntowns perched on hills, with old castles and towers the\\nland rich with grass, grain, fruit, flowers at Palezieux\\na magnificent view of the silver, purple, and blue moun-\\ntains, with their chalky seams and gashed sides, near at\\nliand and at length, coming through a long tunnel, as\\nif we had been shot out into the air above a country\\nmore surprising than any in dreams, the most wonderful\\nsight burst upon us, the low-lying, deep-blue Lake\\nLeman, and the gigantic mountains rising from its shores,\\nand a sort of mist, translucent, suffused with sunlight,\\nlike the liquid of the golden wine the Steinberger\\npoured into the vast basin. We came upon it out of\\ntotal darkness, without warning and we seemed, from\\nour great height, to be about to leap into the splendid\\nD-ulf of tremulous light and color.\\nThis Lake of Geneva is said to combine the robust\\nmountain grandeur of Luzerne with all the softness of\\natmosphere of Lake Maggiore. Surely, nothing could\\nexceed the loveliness as we wound down the hillside,\\nthrough the vineyards, to Lausanne, and farther on, near\\nthe foot of the lake, to Montreux, backed by precipitous\\nbut tiee-clad hills, fronted by the lovely water, and the\\ngreat mountains which run away south into Savoy,\\nwhere Velan lifts up its snows. Below us, round the\\ncurving bay, lies white Chillon and at sunset we row\\ndown to it over the bewitched water, and wait under ita\\ngrim walls till the failing light brings back the romance\\nof castle and prisoner. Our gar^on had never heard of\\nthe prisoner but Le knew about the gendarmes who\\naow occupy the castle.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "OUR ENGLISH FRIENDS.\\nI^TOT the least of the traveller s pleasure in Switzer-\\nJ^ land is derived from the English people who over-\\nrun it they seem to regard it as a kind of private park\\nor preserve belonging to England and they establish\\nthemselves at hotels, or on steamboats and diligences,\\nwith a certain air of ownership that is very pleasant. I\\nam not very fresh in my geology but it is my impression\\nthat Switzerland was created especially for the English,\\nabout the year of the Magna Charta, or a little later.\\nThe Germans who come here, and who don t care very\\nmuch what they eat, or how they sleep, provided they do\\nnot have any fresh air in dining-room or bedroom, and\\nprovided, also, that the bread is a little sour, growl a good\\ndeal about the English, and declare that they have spoiled\\nSwitzerland. The natives, too, who live off the English,\\nseem to thoroughly hate them so that one is often com-\\npelled, in self-defence, to proclaim his nationality, which\\nis like running from Scylla upon Charybdis for, while\\nthe American is more popular, it is believed that there\\nIS no bottom to his pocket.\\nThere was a sprig of the Church of England on the\\nsteamboat on Lake Leman, who spread himself upon a\\ncentre bench, and discoursed very instructively to his\\nfriends, a stout, fat-faced young man in a white cravat,\\nwh^se voice was at once loud and melodious, and whom\\nDur manly Oxford student set down as a man who had\\nlust rubbed through the university, and got into a scanty\\ntivir.g.\\n57", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "58 OUR ENGLISH FRIENDS.\\nI met an American on the boat yesterday, the oraolo\\nwas saying to his friends, who was really quite a\\npleasant fellow. He a really was, you know, quite a\\nsensible man. I asked him if they had any thing like\\nthis in America and he was obliged to say that they\\nhadn t any thing like it in his country they really hadn t.\\nHe was really quite a sensible fellow said he was over\\nhere to do the European tour, as he called it.\\nSmall, sympathetic laugh from the attentive, wiry, red-\\nfaced woman on the oracle s left, and also a chuckle, at\\nthe expense of the American, from the thin Englishman\\non his right, who wore a large white waistcoat, a blue veil\\non his hat, and a face as red as a live coal.\\nQuite an admission, wasn t it, from an American\\nBut I think they have changed since the wah, you know.\\nAt the next landing, the smooth and beaming church-\\nman was left by his friends and lie soon retired to the\\ncabin, where I saw him self-sacrificingly denying himselt\\nthe views on deck, and consoling himself with a substan-\\ntial lunch and a bottle of English ale.\\nThere is one thing to be said about the English abroad\\nthe variety is almost infinite. The best acquaintances\\none makes will be English, people with no nonsense\\nand strong individuality and one gets no end of enter-\\ntainment fi-om the other sort. Very dijfferent from the\\nclergyman on the boat was the old lady at tahle-dlwte\\nin one of the hotels on the lake. One would not like to\\ncall her a delightfully- wicked old woman, like the Bar-\\noness Bernstein but she had her own witty and satiri-\\ncal way of regarding the world. She had lived twenty-\\nfive years at Geneva, where people, years ago, coming\\nover the dusty and hot roads of France, used to faint\\naway when they first caught sight of the Alps. Be-\\nlieve they don t do it now. She never did was past\\nthe susceptible age when she first came was tired of\\nthe people. Honest Why, yes, honest, but very fond\\nof money. Fine Swiss wood-carving? Yes. You l\\nget very sick of it. It s very nice, but I m tired of it", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "OUR ENGLISH FRIENDS. jg\\nTears asjo, I sent some of it home to the folks iii Wno--\\nland. They thought every thing of it and it wasn t\\nvery nice, either, a cheap sort. Moral ideas i don t\\ncare for moral ideas people make such a fuss about\\nthem lately (this in reply to her next neighbor, an\\neccentric, thin man, with bushy hair, shaggy eyebrows,\\nand a. high, falsetto voice, who rallied the witty old lad}\\nall dinner-time about her lack of moral ideas, and accu-\\nrately desciibed the thin wine on the table as water-\\nbewitched Why didn t the baroness go back to li^ng-\\nland, if she was so tired of Switzerland Well, she was\\ntoo infirm now and, besides, she didn t like to trust\\nherself on the railroads. And there were so many new\\ninventions now-a-days, of which she read. What was\\nthis nitro-glycerine, that exploded so dreadfully No\\nshe thought she should stay where she was.\\nThere is little risk of mistaking the Englishman, with\\nor without his family, who has set out to do Switzerland.\\nHe wears a brandy-flask, a field-glass, and a haversack.\\nWhether he has a silk or soft hat, he is certain to wear a\\nveil tied round it. This precaution is adopted when he\\nmakes up his mind to come to Switzerland, I think, be-\\ncause he has read that a veil is necessary to protect the\\neyes from the snow-glare. There is probably not one\\ntraveller in a hundred who gets among the ice and snow-\\nfields where he needs a veil or green glasses but it is\\nwell to have it on the hat it looks adventurous. The\\nveil and the spiked alpenstock are the signs of peril.\\nEverybody almost everybody has an alpenstock.\\nIt is usually a round pine stick, with an iron spike in one\\nend. That, also, is a sign of peril. We saw a noble\\nyoung Briton on the steamer the other day, who was\\ngot up in the best Alpine manner. He wore a short\\nBack, in fact, an entire suit of light gray flannel, which\\nclosely fitted his lithe form. His shoes were of un-\\ndressed leather, with large spikes in the soles and on\\nhis white hat he wore a large quantity of gauze, which\\nfell in folds down his neck. I am sorry to say that he", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "6o OUR ENGLISH FRIENDS.\\nhad a red face, a shaven chin, and long side-whiskera.\\nHe carried a formidable alpenstock and at the little\\nlanding where we first saw him, and afterward on the\\nboat, he leaned on :t in a series of the most graceful and\\ndaring attitudes thai 1 ever saw the human form assume.\\nOur Oxford student knew the variety, and guessed\\nrightly that he was an army man. He had his face\\nburned at Malta. Had he been over the Geftimi Or\\nup this or that mountain V asked another Enghsh offi-\\ncer. No, I have not. And it turned out that he\\nhadn t been anywhere, and didn t seem likely to do any\\nthing but show himself at the frequented valley places.\\nAnd yet I never saw one whose gallant bearing I so\\nmuch admired. We saw him afterward at Interlaken,\\nenduring all the hardships of that fashionable place.\\nThere was also there another of the same country, got\\nup for the most dangerous Alpine climbing, conspicuous\\nin red woollen stockings that came above his knees. I\\nuould not learn that he ever went up any thirg higher\\ntJian the top of a diligence.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE DILIGENCE TO CHAMOUNY.\\nTHE greatest diligence we have seen, one of the fe vr\\nof the old-fashioned sort, is the one from Geneva\\nto Chamouny. It leaves early in the morning and\\nthere is always a crowd about it to see the mount and\\nBtart. The great ark stands before the diligence-office,\\nand, for half an hour before the hour of starting, the por-\\nters are busy stowing away the baggage, and getting the\\npassengers on board. On top, in the banquette, are\\nseats for eight, besides the postilion and guard in the\\ncoupe, under the postilion s seat, and looking upon the\\nhorses, seats for three in the interior, for three and on\\ntop, behind, for six or eight. The baggage is stowed in\\nthe capacious bowels of the vehicle. At seven, the six\\nhorses are brought out and hitched on, three abreast.\\nWe climb up a ladder to the banquette there is an\\nirascible Frenchman, who gets into the wrong seat and\\nbefore he gets right there is a terrible war of words\\nbetween him and the guard and the porters and the\\n\\\\iostlers, everybody joining in with great vivacity in\\nfront of us are three quiet Americans, and a slim French-\\nman with a tall hat and one eye-glass. The postilion\\ngets up to his place. Crack, crack, crack, goes the\\nwhip and, amid sensation from the crowd, we are\\noff at a rattling pace, the whip cracking all the time hke\\nChinese fireworks. The great passion of the drivers is\\nnoise and they k^np the whip going all day. No\\ncooner does a fresh one mount the box than he gives a\\nhalf-dozen prelimipary snaps to which the horses pay\\n61", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "62 THE DILIGENCE TO CHAMQCNY.\\nno heed, as they know it is only for the driver s amuse-\\nment. We go at a good gait, changing horses ever}\\nsix miles, till we reach the Baths of St. Gervais, where\\nwe dine, from near which we get our first glimpse of Mont\\nBlanc through clouds, a section of a dazzlingly- white\\nglacier, a very exciting thing to the imagination. Thence\\nwe go on in small carriages, over a still excellent but\\nmore hilly road, and begin to enter the real mountain\\nwonders until, at length, real glaciers pouring down out\\nof the clouds nearly to the road meet us, and we enter\\nthe narrow Valley of Chamouny, through which we drive\\nto the village in a rain.\\nEverybody goes to Chamouny, and up the Flegere,\\nand to Montanvert, and over the Mer de Glace and\\nnearly everybody down the Mauvais Pas to the Chapeau,\\nand so back to the village. It is all easy to do and yet\\nwe saw some French people at the Chapeau who seemed\\nto think they had accomplished the most hazardous thing\\nin the world in coming down the rocks of the Mauvais\\nPas. There is, as might be expected, a great deal of\\nhumbug about the difficulty of getting about in the Alps,\\na,nd the necessity of guides. Most of the dangers van-\\nish on near approach. The Mer de Glace is inferior to\\nmany other glaciers, and is not nearly so fine as the\\nGlacier des Bossons but it has a reputation, and is easy\\nof access; so people are content to walk over the dirty\\nice. One sees it to better effect from below, or he must\\n^scend it to the Jarain to know that it has deep cre-\\nvasses, and is asj treacnerous as it is grand. And yet no\\none will be disappointed at the view from Montanvert,\\nai the upper glacier, jind the needles of rock and snow\\nvfhiuh rise beyond.\\nWe met at the Chape{ u two jolly young fellows from\\nCharleston, S. C, who liad been in the war, on the\\nwrong side. They kne k no language but American, and\\nwere unable to order a cutlet and an omelet for break-\\niast:. They said they bviiieved they were going over the\\nTOt\u00c2\u00a9 Noire. They suppu od they had four mules wait*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "THE DILIGENCE TO CHAMOUNY. 63\\nmg i or them somewliere, and a guide but tliey couldn t\\nunderstand a word he said, and he couldn t understand\\nthem. The day before, they had nearly perished of\\nthirst, because they couldn t make their guide compre-\\nhend that they wanted water. One of them had slung\\nover his shoulder an Alpine horn, which he blew occa-\\nsionally, and seemed much to enjoy. All this while we\\nsit on a rock at the foot of the Mauvais Pas, looking out\\nupon the green glacier, which here i)iles itself up finelyj\\nand above to the Aiguilles de Charmoz and the innu-\\nmerable ice-pinnacles that run up to the clouds, while\\nour muleteer is gettino; his breakfast. This is his third\\nbreakfast this morning.\\nThe day after we reached Chamouny, Mod seigneur\\nthe bishop arrived there on one of his rare pilgrimages\\ninto these wild valleys. Nearly all the way down from\\nGeneva, we had seen signs of his coming, in preparations\\nas for the celebration of a great victory. I did not know\\nat first but the Atlantic cable had been laid, or rather that\\nthe decorations were on account of the news of it reach-\\ning this region. It was a holiday for all classes and\\neverybody lent a hand to the preparations. First, the\\nlittle church where the confirmations were to take place\\nwas trimmed within and without and an arch of green\\nspanned the gateway. At Les Pres, the women were\\nsweeping the road, and the men were setting small ever-\\ngreen trees on each side. The peasants were in theii*\\nbest clothes and in front of their wretched hovels were\\ntables set out with flowers. So cheerful and eager were\\nthey about the bishop, that they forgot to beg as we\\npassed the whole valley was in a fever of expectation.\\nAt one hamlet on the mule-path over the Tete Noire,\\nwhere the bishop was that day expected, and the wo-\\nmen were sweeping away all dust and litter from the\\nroad, I removed my hat, and gravely thanked them for\\ntheir thoughtful preparation for our coming. But they\\nonly stared a little, as if we were not worthy to b 5 even\\nforerunners of Monseigneur.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "64 THE DILIGENCE TO CHAMOUNY.\\n1 do not care to write here how serious a drawback to\\nthe pleasures of this region are its inhabitants. You get\\nthe impression that half of them are beggars. The other\\nhalf are watching for a chance to prey upon you in other\\nways. I heard of a woman in the Zermatt Valley who\\nrefused pay for a glass of milk but I did not have time\\nto verify the report. Besides the beggars, who may or\\nmay not be horrid-looking creatures, there are the grin-\\nning Cretins, the old women with skins of parchment\\nand the goitre, and even young children with the loath-\\nsome appendage, the most wretched and filthy hovels,\\nand the dirtiest, ugliest people in them. The poor\\nwomen are the beasts of burden. They often lead, mow-\\ning in the hayfield they carry heavy baskets on their\\nbacks they balance on their heads and carry large wash-\\ntubs full of water. The more appropriate load of one\\nwas a cradle with a baby in it, which seemed not at all\\nto fear falling. When one sees how the women are\\ntreated, he does not wonder that there are so many de-\\nformed, hideous children. I think the pretty girl has yet\\nto be born in Switzerland.\\nThis is not much about the Alps Ah, well, the Alps\\nare there. Go read your guide-book, and find out what\\nyour emotions are. As I said, everybody goes to Cha-\\nmouny. Is it not enough to sit at your window, and\\nwatch the clouds when they lift from the Mont Blanc\\nrange, disclosing splendor after splendor, from the\\nAiguille de Goute to the Aiguille Verte, white needles\\nwhich pierce the air for twelve thousand feet, until, jubi-\\nlate the round summit of the monarch himself is visible,\\nand the vast expanse of white snow-fields, the whiteness of\\nwhich is rather of heaven than of earth, dazzles the eyes,\\neven at so great a distance Everybody who is patient\\nand waits in the cold and inhospitable-looking valley of\\nthe Chamouny long enough, sees Mont Blanc but every\\none does not see a sunset of the royal order. The clouds\\ncreaking up and clearing, after days of bad weather,\\nshowed us height after height, and peak after peak, now", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "THE DILIGENCE TO C HA MO UN Y. 65\\nwreathing the summits, now settling below or hanging in\\npatches on the sides, and again soaring above, until we\\nhad the whole range lying, far and brilliant, in the even-\\ning light. The clouds took on gorgeous colors, at length,\\nand soon the snow caught the hue, and whole fields were\\nrosy pink, while uplifted peaks glowed ivid, as with inter-\\nnal fire. Only Mont Blanc, afar off, remained purely\\nwhite, in a kind of regal inaccessibility. And, after-\\nward, one star came out over it, and a bright light shone\\nfrom the hut on the Grand Mulcts, a rock in the waste\\nof snow, where a Frenchman was passing the night on\\nhis way to the summit.\\nShall I describe the passage of the Tete Noire My\\nfriend, it is twenty-four miles, a road somewhat hilly,\\nwith splendid views of Mont Blanc in the morning, and\\nof the Bernese Oberland range in the afternoon, when\\nyou descend into Martigny, a hot place in the dusty\\nRhone Valley, which has a comfortable hotel, with a\\npleasant garden, in which you sit after dinner and let\\nthe mosquitoes eat you.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "THE MAN WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH.\\nrT was eleven o clock at niglit wlien we readied Sicn,\\nI a dirty little town at the end of tlie Rhone -Valley\\nRailway, and got into the omnibus for the hotel and it\\nwas also dark and rainy. They speak German in this\\npart of Switzerland, or what is called German. There\\nwere two very pleasant Americans, who spoke American,\\ngoing on in the diligence at half-past five in the morn-\\ning, on their way over the Simplcn. One of them was\\naccustomed to speak good, broad English very distinctly\\nto all races and he seemed to expect that he must be\\nunderstood if he repeated his observations in a louder\\ntone, as he always did. I think he would force all this\\ncountry to speak English in two months. We all desired\\nto secure places in the diligence, which was likely to be\\nfull, as is usually the case when a railway discharges itself\\ninto a post-road.\\nWe were scarcely in the omnibus, when the gentleman\\nsaid to the conductor\\nI want two places in the coupe of the diligence in the\\nmorning. Can 1 have them\\nYah, replied the good-natured German, who didn t\\nunderstand a word.\\nTwo places, ciiligence, coupe, morning. Is it full\\nYah, replied the accommodating fellow. Hotel,\\nman spik English.\\nI suggested the banquette as desirable, if it could be\\nobtained, and the German was equally willing to give it\\nto ns. Descending from the omnibus at the hotel, in a\\n66", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "THE MAN WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH. 67\\ndiizzling rain, and amidst a crowd of porters and postil-\\nions and runners, the man who spoke English imme-\\ndiately presented himself; and upon him the American\\npounced with a torrent of questions. He was a willing,\\nlively little waiter, with his moony face on the top of his\\nhead and he jumped round in the rain like a parching\\npea, rolling his head about in the funniest manner.\\nI he American steadied the little man by the collar,\\nand besran,\\n1 want to secure two seats in the coupe of the dili-\\ngence in the morning.\\nYaas, jumping round, and looking from one to an-\\nother. Diligence, coupe, morning.\\nI want two seats in coupe. If I can t get\\nthem, two in banquette.\\nYaas banquette, coupe, yaas, diligence.\\nDo you understand Two seats, dihgence, Simplon,\\nmorning. Will you get t^em\\nOh, yaas morning, diligence. Yaas, sirr.\\nHang the fellow Where is the office And the\\ngentleman left the spry little waiter bobbing about in the\\nmiddle of the street, speaking English, but probably com-\\nprehending nothing that was said to him. I inquired the\\nway to the office of the conductor it was closed, but\\nwould soon be open, and I waited; and at length the\\nofficial, a stout Frenchman, appeared, and I secured\\nplaces in the interior, the only ones to be had to Visp.\\nI had seen a diligence at the door with three places in\\nthe coupe, and one perched behind no banquette. The\\noffice is brightly lighted people are waiting to secure\\nplaces; there is the usual crowd of loafers, men and\\nwomen, and the Frenchman sits at his desk. Enter the\\nAmerican.\\nI want two places in coupe, in the morning. Or\\nbanquette. Two places, diligence. The official waves\\nhim off, and says something.\\nWhat does he say V\\nHe tells you *o sit down on that bench till he is\\nready.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "6S THE MAN WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH.\\nSoon the Frenchman has run over his big way-bills, and\\nturns to us.\\nI want two places in the diligence, coupe, c., c.,\\nsays the American.\\nThis remark being lost on the official, I explain to\\nhim as well as I can what is wanted, at first, two places\\nhi the coupe.\\nOne is taken, is his reply.\\nThe gentleman will take two, I said, having in mind\\nthe diligence in the yard, with three places in the coupe.\\nOne is taken, he repeats.\\nThen the gentleman will take the other two.\\nOne is taken he cries, jumping up and smiting the\\ntable, one is taken, I tell you\\nHow many are there in the coupe\\nTwo.\\nOh then the gentleman will take the one remaining\\nin the coupe, and the one on top.\\nSo it is arranged. When I uome back to the hotel, the\\nAmericans are explaining to the lively waiter who\\nspeaks English that they are to go in the diligence at\\nhalf-past five, and that they are to be called at half-past\\nfour, and have breakfast. He knows all about it,\\nDiligence, half-past four, breakfast. Oh, yaas While\\nJ have been at the diligence-office, my companions have\\nsecured rooms, and gone to them and I ask the waiter to\\nshow me to my room. First, however, I tell him that we\\ntliree, two ladies and myself, who came together, are\\ngoing in the diligence at half-past five, and want to be\\ncalled, and have breakfast. Did he comprehend\\nYaas, rolling his face about on the top of his head\\nviolently. You three gentleman want breakfast. What\\ny*)\\\\ 1 hare\\nI had told hiij^ t efore what we would have, and now I\\ngts t up all hope o* keeping our parties separate in his\\nmind so I said,\\nFive persons want breakfast at five o clock. Five\\npersons, five hours. Call all of them at half-past four.*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "THE MAN WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH. 69\\nAnd 1 repeated it, and made Mm repeat it in English\\nand French. He then insisted on putting me into the\\nroom of one of the American gentlemen and then he\\nknocked at the door of a lady, who cried out in indigna-\\ntion at being disturbed and, finally, I found my room.\\nAt the door I reiterated the instructions for the morn-\\ning; and he cheerfully bade me good-night. But he\\nalmost immediately came back, and poked in his head\\nwitli,\\nIs you go by de dihgence\\nYes, you stupid.\\nIn the morning one of our party was called at half-past\\nthree, and saved the rest of us from a like fate and we\\nwere not aroused at all, but woke time enough to get\\ndown and find the diligence nearly ready, and no break-\\nfast, but the man who spoke English as lively as ever.\\nAnd we had a breakfast brought out, so filthy in all re-\\nspects that nobody could eat it. Fortunately, there was\\nnot time to seriously try but we paid for it, and departed.\\nThe two American gentlemen sat in front of tl;e house,\\nwaitino-. The lively waiter had called them at half-past\\nthree, for the railway train, instead of the diligence\\nand they had their wretched breakfast early. They will\\nremember the funny adventure with the man who speaks\\nEnglish, and, no doubt, unite with us in warmly com-\\nmending the Hotel Lion J Or at Sion as the nastiest inu\\nSwitzerland.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "A WALK TO THE GORNER-GRAT.\\nT TTHEN one leaves tlie dusty Rhone Valley, and\\nV V turns southward from Visp, he plunges into the\\nwildest and most savage part of Switzerland, and pene-\\ntrates the heart of the Alps. The valley is scarcely\\nmore than a narrow gorge, with high precipices on\\neither side, through which the turbid and rapid Visp\\ntears along at a furious rate, boiling and leaping in foam\\nover its rocky bed, and nearly as large as the Rhone at\\nthe junction. From Visp to St. Nicolaus, twelve miles,\\nthere is only a mule-path, but a very good one, winding\\nalong on the slope, sometimes high up, and again de-\\nscending to cross the stream, at first by vineyards and\\nhigh stone walls, and then on the edges of precipices,\\nbut always romantic and wild. It is noon when we set\\nout from Visp, in true pilgrim fashion, and the sun is at\\nfirst hot but as we slowly rise up the easy ascent, we\\nget a breeze, and forget the heat in the varied charm,s\\nof the walk.\\nEvery thing for the use of the upper valley and\\nZermatt, now a place of considerable resort, must be\\ncarried by porters, or on horseback and we pass o^*\\nmeet men and women, sometimes a dozen of them\\ntogether, laboring along under the long, heavy bas-\\nkets, broad at the top and coming nearly to a point\\nbelow, which are universally used here for carrying\\nevery thing. The tubs for transporting water are of the\\nsame sort. Thei-e is no level ground, but every foot is\\ncultivated. High up on the sides of the precipices\\n70", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "A WALK TO THE GORNER-GRAT. 71\\nwhere it seems impossible for a goa,t to climb, are vine-\\nprds and houses, and even villages, hung on slopes,\\nnearly up to the clouds, and with no visible way of com-\\nmunication with the rest of the world.\\nIn two hours time we are at Stalden, a village\\nperched upon a rocky promontory, at the junction of the\\nvalleys of the Saas and the Yisp, with a church and\\nwhite tower conspicuous from afar. We climb up to the\\nterrace in front of it, on our way into the town. A\\nseedy-looking priest is pacing up and down, taking the\\nfresh breeze, his broad-brimmed, shabby bat held down\\nupon the wall by a big stone. His clothes are worn\\nthreadbare and he looks as thin and poor as a Method-\\nist minister in a stony town at home, on three hundred\\na year. He politely returns our salutation, and we walk\\non. Nearly all the priests in this region look wretch-\\nedly poor, as poor as the people. Through crooked, nar-\\nrow streets, with houses overhanging and thrusting out\\ncorners and gables, houses with stables below, and quaint\\ncarvings and odd little windows above, the panes of\\nglass hexagons, so that the windows looked like sections\\nof honeycomb, we found our way to the inn, a many-\\nstoried chalet^ with stairs on the outside, stone floors in the\\nupper passages, and no end of queer rooms built right\\nin the midst of other houses as odd, decorated with Ger-\\nman-text carving, from the windows of which the occu-\\npants could look in upon us, if they had cared to do so\\nbut they did not. They seem little interested in any\\nthing and no wonder, with their hard fight with Nature.\\nBelow is a wine-shop, with a little side booth, in which\\nsome German travellers sit drinking their wine, and\\nsputtering away in harsh gutturals. The inn is very\\nneat inside, and we are well served. Stalden is high\\nbut away above it on the opposite side is a village on\\nthe steep slope, with a slender white spire that rivals\\nsome of the snowy needles. Stalden is high, but the\\nhill on which it stands is rich in grass. The secret_ of\\nthe fertile meadows is the most thorough irrigation", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "f2 A WALK TO THE GORNER-GRA T.\\nWater is carried along the banks from the river, and dis-\\ntributed by numerous sluiceways below and above the\\nlittle mountain streams are brought where they are\\nneeded by artificial channels. Old men and women in\\nthe fields were constantly changing the direction of the\\ncurrents. All the inhabitants appeared to be porters\\nwomen were transporting on their backs baskets full of\\nsoil hay was being backed to the stables burden-bcarera\\nwere coming and going upon the road we were told\\nthat there are only three horses in the place. There is\\na pleasant girl who brings us luncheon at the inn but\\nthe inhabitants for the most part are as hideous as those\\nwe see all day some have hardly the shape of human\\nbeings, and they all live in the most filthy manner in the\\ndirtiest habitations. A chalet is a sweet thing when you\\nbuy a little model of it at home.\\nAfter we leave Stalden, the walk becomes more pic-\\nturesque, the precipices are higher, the gorges deeper. It\\nrequired some engineering to carry the footpath round\\nthe mountain buttresses and over the ravines. Soon the\\nvillage of Emd appears on the right, a very considerable\\ncollection of brown houses, and a shining white church-\\nspire, above woods and precipices and apparently un-\\nscalable heights, on a green spot which seems painted\\non the precipices; with nothing visible to keep the\\nwhole from sliding down, down, into the gorge of the\\nVisp. Switzerland may not have so much population to\\nthe square mile as some countries but she has a popula-\\ntion to some of her square miles that would astonish\\nsome parts of the earth s surface elsewhere. Farther\\non, we saw a faint, zigzag footpath, that we conjectured\\nV)d to Emd; but it might lead up to heaven. All day\\nwe had been solicited for charity by squahd little chil-\\ndren, who kiss their nasty little paws at us, and ask for\\ncentimes. The children of Emd, however, did not\\ntrouble us. It must be a serious affair if they ever rob\\naut of bed.\\nLate in the afterno \u00c2\u00bbn thunder began to tumble abrut", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "A WALK TO THE GORNER-GRAT, 73\\nthe hills, and clouds snatched away from our sight the\\nsnow peaks at the end of the valley and at length the\\nrain fell on those who had just arrived and on the un-\\njust. We took refuge from the hardest of it in a lonely\\nchalet high up on the hillside, where a roughly-dressed,\\nfrowzy Swiss, who spoke bad German, and said he was\\na schoolmaster, gave us a bench in the shed of his school-\\nroom. He had only two pupils in attendance, and I did\\nnot get a very favorable impression of this high school.\\nIts master quite overcame us with thanks when we gave\\nhim a few centimes on leaving. It still rained, and we\\narrived in St. Nicolaus quite damp.\\nThere is a decent road from St. Nicolaus to Zermatt,\\nover which go wagons without springs. The scenery is\\nconstantly grander as we ascend. The day is not\\nwholly clear but high on our right are the vast snow-\\nfields of the Weishorn, and out of the very clouds near\\nit seems to pour the Bies Glacier. In front are the\\nsplendid Briethorn, with its white, round summit the\\nblack Riffelhorn the sharp peak of the little Matter-\\nhorn and at last the giant Matterhorn itself rising before\\nus, the most finished and impressive single mountain in\\nSwitzerland. Not so high as Mont Blanc by a thousand\\nfeet, it appears immense in its isolated position and its\\nslender aspiration. It is a huge pillar of rock, with\\nsharply-cut edges, rising to a defined point, dusted with\\nsnow, so that the rock is only here and there revealed\\nTo ascend it, seems as impossible as to go up the Columr\\nof Luxor and one can believe that the gentlemen whc\\nfirst attempted it in 1864, and lost their lives, did fall\\nfour thousand feet before their bodies rested on the\\nglacier below.\\nWe did not stay at Zermatt, but pushed on for Ihe\\nhotel on the top of the Rifielberg, a very stiff and tire-\\nsome climb of about three hours, an unending pull up a\\nBtony footpath. Within an hour of the top, and when\\nthe white hotel is in sight above the zigzag on the\\nhreast of the precipice, we reach a green and wide-spread", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "74 A WALK TG THE GORNER-GRA T.\\nAlp where hundreds of cows are feeding, watched bj\\ntwo forlorn women, the milkmaids all forlorn of\\npoetry. At the rude chalets we stop, and get draughts\\nof rich, sweet cream. As we wind up the slope, the\\ntinkling of multitudinous bells from the herd comes to\\nus, which is also in the domain of poetry. All the way\\nup, we have found wild-flowers in the greatest profusion\\nand the higher we ascend, the more exquisite is theii\\ncolor and the more perfect their form. There are pan-\\nsies gentians of a deeper blue than flower ever wai\\nbefore forget-me-nots, a pink variety among them vio-\\nlets, the Alpine rose and the Alpine violet delicate pink\\nflowers of moss harebells and quantities for which we\\nknow no names, more exquisite in shape and color than\\nthe choicest products of the greenhouse. Large slopes\\nare covered with them, a brilliant show to the eye, and\\nmost pleasantly beguiling the way of its tediousness.\\nAs high as I ascended, I still found some of these delicate\\nflowers, the pink moss growing in profusion amongst the\\nrocks of the Gorner-Grat, and close to the snow-drifts.\\nThe inn on the Rifielberg is nearly eight thousand\\nfeet liigh, almost two thousand feet above the hut on\\nMount Washington yet it is not so caid and desolate as\\nthe latter. Grass grows and flowers bloom on its smooth\\nupland, and behind it and in front of it are the snow-\\npeaks. That evening we essayed the Gorner-Grat, a\\nrocky ledge nearly ten thousand feet above the level of\\n.he sea but after a climb of an hour and a half, and a\\ngood view of Monte Rosa and the glaciers and peaks of\\nthat range, we were prevented from reaching the sum-\\nmit, and driven back by a sharp storm of hail and rain.\\nThe next morning I started for the Gorner-Grat again,\\nat four o clock. The Matterhorn lifted its huge bulk\\nsharply against the sky, except where fleecy clouds\\nlightly draped it and fantastically blew about it. As 1\\nascended, and turned to look at it, its beautifully-cut\\ni^eak had caught the first ray of the sun, and burned\\n\u00c2\u00ab*-ith a rosy glow. Some great clouds drifted high in", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "A WALK TO THE GORNER-GRAT. 75\\nthe air the summits of the Breithorn, the Lyscamm,\\nand their companions, lay cold and white but the snow\\ndown their sides had a tinge of pink. When I stood\\nupon the summit of the Gorner-Grat, the two prominent\\nsilver peaks of Monte Rosa were just touched with the\\nsmi, and its great snow-fields were visible to the glacier\\nat its base. The Gorner-Grat is a rounded ridge of\\nrock, entirely encircled by glaciers and snow-peaks.\\nThe panorama from it is unexcelled in Switzerland.\\nReturning down the rocky steep, I descried, solitary\\nin that great waste of rock and snow, the form of a lady\\nwhom I supposed I had left sleeping at the inn, over-\\ncome with the fatigue of yesterday s tramp. Lured on\\nby the apparently short distance to the back-bone of the\\nridge, she had climbed the rocks a mile or more above\\nthe hotel, and come to meet me. She also had seen the\\ngreat pe^ks lift themselves out of the gray dawn, and\\nMonte Rosa catch the first rays. We stood a while\\ntogether to see how jocund day ran hither and thither\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2along the mountain-tops, until the light was all abroad,\\nand then silently turned downward, as one goes from a\\ntuount oi devotion.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "THE BATHS OF LEUK.\\nIN order to make tlie pass of the Gemini, it is necessary\\nto go througli the Baths of Leuk. The ascent from\\nthe Rhone bridge at Susten is full of interest, afibrding\\nfine views of the valley, which is better to look at than\\nto travel through, and bringing you almost immediately\\nto the old town of Leuk, a queer, old, towered place,\\njjerched on a precipice, with the oddest inn, and a notice\\nposted up to the effect, that any one who drives through\\nits steep streets faster than a walk will be fined five\\nfrancs. I paid nothing extra for a fast walk. The road\\nwhich is one of the best in the country, is a wonderfu\\npiece of engineering, spanning streams, cut in rock,\\nrounding precipices, following the wild valley of the\\nDala by many a winding and zigzag.\\nThe Baths of Leuk, or Loeche-les- Bains, or Leuker-\\nbad, is a little village at the very head of the valley,\\nover four thousand feet above the sea, and overhung by\\nthe perpendicular walls of the Gerami which rise on all\\nsides, except the south, on an average of two thousand\\n=^et above it. There is a nest of brown houses, clus-\\ntered together like bee-hives, into which the few inhabit-\\nants creep to hibernate in the long winters, and several\\nshops, grand hotels, and bathing-houses open for the\\nseason. Innumerable springs issue out of this green,\\nsloping meadow among the mountains, some of them\\nicy cold, but over twenty of them hot, and seasoned\\nwith a great many disagreeable sulphates, carbonates,\\nand oxides, and varying in temperature from ninety-five\\n5^6", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "THE BA THS OF LEUK. 77\\nt\u00c2\u00a9 one hundred and twenty-three degrees Fahrenheit.\\nItalians, French, and Swiss resort here in great numbers\\nto take the baths, which are supposed to be very effica*\\nclous for rheumatism and cutaneous affections. Doubt-\\nless many of them do up their bathing for the year while\\nhere and they may need no more after scalding and\\nsoaking in this water for a couple of months.\\nBefore we reached the hotel, we turned aside into one\\nof the bath-houses. We stood inhaling a sickly steam\\nin a large, close hall, which was wholly occupied by a\\nhuge vat, across which low partitions, with bridges, ran,\\ndividing it into four compartments. When we entered,\\nwe were assailed with yells, in many languages, and\\nhowls in the common tongue, as if all the fiends of the\\npit had broken loose. We took off our hats in obedience\\nto the demand but the clamor did not wholly subside,\\nand was minorled with singino: and horrible laughter.\\nFloating about in each vat, we at first saw twenty or\\nthirty human heads. The women could be distinguished\\nfrom the men by the manner of dressing the hair. Each\\nwore a loose woollen gown. Each had a little table\\nfloating before him or her, which he or she pushed about\\nat pleasure. One wore a hideous mask another kept\\ndiving in the opaque pool and coming up to blow, like\\nthe hippopotamus in the Zoological Gardens some were\\ntaking a lunch from their tables, others playing chess\\nBome sitting on the benches round the edges, with only\\nheads out of water, as doleful as owls, while others\\nroamed about, engaged in the game of spattering with\\ntheir comrades, and sang and shouted at the top of their\\nvoices. The people in this bath were said to be second\\nclass but they looked as well and behaved better than\\nthose of the first class, whom we saw in the establish-\\nment at our hotel afterward.\\nIt may be a valuaole scientific fact, that the water in\\nthese vats, in which people of all sexes, all diseases, and\\ntil nations spend so many hours of the twenty-four, ig\\nthanged once a day. The temperature at which th#", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "78 THE BATHS OF LEUK.\\nbath is given is ninety-eight. The water Is let in at\\nnight, and allowed to cool. At five in the morning, the\\nbathers enter it, and remain until ten o clock, five hours,\\nhaving breakfast served to them on the floating tables,\\nas they sail, as they sail. They then have a respite\\ntill two, and go in till five. Eight hours in hot water 1\\nNothing can be more disgusting than the sight of these\\nbaths. Gustave Dore must have learned here how to\\nmake those ghostly pictures of the lost floating about in\\nthe Stygian pools, in his illustrations of the Inferno\\nand the rocks and cavernous precipices may have enabled\\nhim to complete the picture. On what principle cures\\nare effected in these filthy vats, I could not learn. I\\nhave a theory, that, where so many diseases meet and\\nmingle in one swashing fluid, they neutralize each other.\\nIt may be that the action is that happily explained by\\none of the Hibernian bathmen in an American water-\\ncure establishment. You see, sir, said he, that the\\nshock of the water unites with the electricity of the sys-\\ntem, and explodes the disease. I should think that\\nthe shock to one s feeling of decency and cleanliness, at\\nthese baths, would explode any disease in Europe. But,\\nwhatever the result may be, I am not sorry to see so\\nmany French and Italians soak themselves once a year.\\nOut of the bath these people seem to enjoy life.\\nThere is a long promenade, shaded and picturesque,\\nwhich they take at evening, sometimes as far as the Lad-\\nders, eight of which are fastened, in a shackling manner,\\nto the perpendicular rocks, a high and somewhat dan-\\ngerous ascent to the village of Albinen, but undertaken\\nnonstantly by peasants with baskets on their backs. It\\nis in winter the only mode Leukerbad has of communi-\\ncating with the world and in summer it is the only way\\nof reaching Albinen, except by a long journey down the\\nDala and up another valley and height. The bathers\\nvp^ere certainly very lively and social at tahle-d hote^\\n^vhere we had the pleasure of meeting some hundred of\\nthem, dressed. It was presumed that the baths were the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "THE BA THS OF LEUK. 79\\nBubject of the entertaining conversation for I read in a\\ncharming little work which sets forth the delights of\\nLeuk, that La poussee forms the staple of most of the\\ntalk. La poussee, or, as this book poetically calls it,\\nthat daughter of the waters of Loeche, that eruption\\nof which we have already spoken, and which proves the\\na(^tion of the baths upon the skin, becomes the object,\\nand often the end, of all conversation. And it gives\\nspecimens of this pleasant converse, as\\nComment va votre poussee\\nAvez-vous la poussee\\nJe suis en pleine poussee\\nMa poussee s est fort bien passee\\nIndeed, says this entertaining tract, sans poussee, one\\nwould not be able to hold, at table or in the salon, with\\na neio;hbor of either sex, the least conversation. Fur-\\nther, it is by grace a la poussee that one arrives at\\nthose intimacies which are the characteristics of the baths.\\nBlessed, then, be La poussee, which renders possible such\\na high society and such select and entertaining conver-\\nsation Long may the bathers of Leuk live to soak and\\nconverse 1 In the morning, when we departed for the\\nascent of the Gemmi, we passed one of the bathing-\\nhouses. I fancied that a hot steam issued out of the\\ncrevices from within came a discord of singing and\\ncaterwauling and, as a door swung open, I saw that tho\\nheads floating about on the turbid tide were eating\\nbreakfast from the swimmipg tables-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "OVER THE GEMMI.\\nI SPENT some time, tlie evening before, studying the\\nface of tlie cliff we were to ascend, to discover the\\npath but I could only trac e its zigzag beginning.\\nvVhen we came to the base of the rock, we found a way\\ncut, a narrow path, most of the distance hewn out of the\\nrock, winding upward along the face of the precipice.\\nThe view, as one rises, is of the break-neck description.\\nThe way is really safe enough, even on mule-back, as-\\ncending but one would be foolhardy to ride down. We\\nmet a lady on the summit who was about to be carried\\ndown on a chair and she seemed quite to like the mode\\nof conveyance she had harnessed her husband in tem-\\nporarily for one of the bearers, which made it still more\\njolly for her. When we started, a cloud of mist hung\\nover the edge of the rocks. As we rose, it descended\\nto meet us, and sunk below, hiding the valley and its\\nhouses, which had looked like Swiss toys from our height\\nWhen we reached the summit, the mist came boiling up\\nafter us, rising like a thick wall to the sky, and hiding\\nall that great mountain range, the Vallais Alps, from\\nwhich we had come, and which we hoped to see from\\nthis point. Fortunately, there were no clouds on the\\nother side, and we looked down into a magnificent rocky\\nbasin, encircled by broken and over-topping crags ana\\nBnow-fields, at the bottom of which was a green lake.\\nIt is one of the wildest of scenes.\\nAn hour from the summit, we came to a green Alp,\\nwhere a herd of cows were feeding and in the midst of\\n80", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "OVER THE GEMML 81\\nit were three or four dirty chalets, where pigs, chickens,\\ncattle, and animals constructed very much like human\\nbeings, lived yet I have nothing to say against these\\nchalets, for we had excellent cream there. We had, on\\nthe way down, fine views of the snowy Aitels, the JRinder-\\nhorn, the Finster-Aarhorn, a deep valley which enor-\\nmous precipices guard, but which avalanches nevertheless\\ninvade, and, farther on, of the Bliimlisalp, with its sum-\\nrait of crystalline whiteness. The descent to Kandersteg\\nis very rapid, and in a rain slippery. This village is a\\nresort for artists for its splendid views of the range we\\nhad crossed it stands at the gate of the mountains.\\nFrom there to the Lake of Thun is a delightful drive,\\na rich country, with handsome cottages and a charming\\nlandscape, even if the pyramidal Niesen did not lift up\\nits seven thousand feet on the edge of the lake. So,\\nthrough a smiling land, and in the sunshine after the\\nrain, we come to Spiez, and find ourselves at a little\\nhotel on the slope, overlooking town and lake and moun-\\ntains.\\nSpiez is not large indeed, its few houses are nearly all\\npicturesquely grouped upon a narrow rib of land which\\nis thrust into the lake on purpose to make the loveliest\\npicture in the world. There is the old castle, with its\\nmany slim spires and its square-peaked roofed tower\\nthe slender-steepled church a fringe of old houses below\\non the lake, one overhanging towards- the point and the\\npromontory, finished by a willow drooping to the water.\\nBeyond, in hazy light, over the lucid green of the lake,\\nare mountains whose masses of rock seem soft and sculp-\\ntured. To the right, at the foot of the lake, tower the\\ngreat snow mountains, the cone of the Schreckhorn,\\nthe square top of the Eiger, the Jungfrau, just shoving\\nover the hills, and the Bliimlisalp rising into heaven clear\\nand silvery.\\nWhat can one do in such a spot, but swim in the lake,\\nUe on the shore, and watch the passing steamers and the\\nchanging light on the mountains Down at the wharf.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "82 OVER THE GEMMI.\\nwhen the small boats put off for the steamer, one can\\nwell entertain himself. The small boat is an enormous\\nthing, after all, and propelled by two long, heavy sweeps,\\none of which is pulled, and the other pushed. The labor-\\ning oar is, of course, pulled by a woman while her hus-\\nband stands up in the stern of the boat, and gently dips\\nthe other in a gallant fashion. There is a boy there,\\nwhom I cannot make out, a short, square boy, with tas-\\nselled skull-cap, and a face that never changes its expres-\\nsion, and never has any expression to change he may\\nbe older than these hills he looks old enough to be his\\nown father and there is a girl, his counterpart, who\\nmight be, judging her age by her face, the mother of\\nboth of them. These solemn old-young people are quite\\nbusy doing nothing about the wharf, and appear to be\\nafflicted with an undue sense of the responsibility of\\nlife. There is a beer-garden here, where several sober\\ncouples sit seriously drinking their beer. There are\\nsome horrid old women, with the parchment skin and\\nthe disagreeable necks. Alone, in a window of the cas-\\ntle, sits a lady at her work, who might be the countess\\nonly, I am sorry, there is no countess, nothing but a\\nfrau, in that old feudal dwelling. And there is a for-\\neigner, thinking how queer it all is. And, while he sits\\nthere, the melodious bell in the church-tower rings its\\nevening song.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "BAVARIA.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "AMERICAN IMPATIENCE.\\nWE left Switzerland, as we entered it, in a rain,\\na kind of double baptism that may have been\\nnecessary, and was certainly not too heavy a price to\\npay for the privileges of the wonderful country. The\\nwind blew freshly, and swept a shower over the deck of\\nthe little steamboat, on board of which we stepped from\\nthe shabby little pier and town of Romanshorn. After\\nthe other Swiss lakes, Constance is tame, except at the\\nsouthern end, beyond which rise the Appenzell range\\nand the wooded peaks of the Bavarian hills. Through\\nthe dash of rain, and under the promise of a magnificent\\nrainbow, rainbows don t mean any thing in Switzer-\\nland, and have no office as weather-prophets, except to\\nassure you, that, as it rains to-day, so it will rain to-mor-\\nrow, we skirted the lower bend of the lake, and at twi-\\nlight sailed into the little harbor of Lindau, through the\\nnarrow entrance between the piers, on one of which is a\\nsmall lighthouse, and on the other sits upright a gigantic\\nstone lion, a fine enough figure of a Bavarian lion, but\\nwith a comical, wide-awake, and expectant expression of\\ncountenance, as if he might bark right out at any minute,\\nand become a dog. Yet in the moonlight, shortly after-\\nwar i, the lion looked very grand and stately, as he sat\\nregarding the softly-plashing waves, and the high, drift-\\ning clouds, and the old Roman tower by the bridge,\\nwhich connects the Island of Lindau with the mainland,\\nand thinking perhaps, if stone lions ever do think, of\\nthe time when Roman galleys sailed on Lake Constance,\\n85", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "86 AMERICAN I MP A TIENCE.\\nand when Lindau was an imperial town with a thriving\\ntrade.\\nOn board the little steamer was an American, accom-\\npanied by two ladies, and travelling, I thought, for their\\ngratification, who was very anxious to get on faster than\\nBe was able to do, though why any one should desire to\\ngo fast in Europe I do not know. One easily falls into\\nthe habit of the country, to take things easily, to go\\nwhen the slow German fates will, and not to worry one s\\nself beforehand about times and connections. But the\\nAmerican was in a fever of impatience, desirous, if possi-\\nble, to get on that night. I knew he was from the Land\\nof the Free by a phrase I heard him use in the cars he\\nsaid, I ll bet a dollar. Yet I must flatter myself that\\nAmericans do not always thus betray themselves. I\\nhappened, on the Isle of Wight, to hear a bland land-\\nlord blow up his glib-tongued son because the latter\\nhad not driven a stiffer bargain with us for the hire of a\\ncarriage round the island.\\nDidn t you kpjw they were Americans asks the\\nirate father. I knew it at once.\\nNo, replies young hopeful they didn t say guess\\nonce.\\nAnd straightway the fawning innkeeper returns to\\nus, professing, with his butter-lips, the greatest admira-\\ntion of all Americans, and the intensest anxiety to serve\\nthem, and all for pure good- will. The English are even\\nmore bloodthirsty at sight of a traveller than the Swiss,\\nand twice as obsequious. But to return to our Ameri-\\ncan. He had all the railway-time tables that he could\\nprocure and Le was busily studying them, with the de-\\nsign of getting on. I heard him say to his compan-\\nions, as he ransacked his pockets, that he was a mass of\\nhotel- bills and time-tables. He confided to me after-\\nward, that his wife and her friend had got it into their\\nheads that they must go both to Vienna and Berlin.\\nWas Berlin much out of the way in going from Vienna\\nto Paris He said they told him it wasn t. At any", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "AMERICAN IMPATIENCE, 87\\nrate, he must get round at such a date he had no time\\nto spare. Then, besides the slowness of getting on,\\nthere were the trunks. He lost a trunk in Switzerland,\\nand consumed a whole day in looking it up. While the\\nsteamboat lay at the wharf at Rorschach, two stout por-\\nters came on board, and shouldered his baggage to take\\nit ashore. To his remonstrances in English they paid\\nno heed and it was some time before they could be\\nmade to understand that the trunks were to go on to\\nLindau. There, said he, I should have lost my\\ntrunks. Nobody understands what I tell them I can t\\nget any information. Especially was he unable to get\\nany information as to how to get on. I confess that\\nthe restless American almost put me into a fidget, and\\nrevived the American desire to get on, to take the\\nfast trains, make all the connections, in short, in the\\nhandsome language of the great West, to put her\\nthrough. When I last saw our traveller, he was getting\\nhis lugo-asje through the custom-house, still undecided\\nwhether to push on that night at eleven o clock. But I\\nforgot all about him and his hurry, when, shortly after,\\nwe sat at the table-d lfiote at the hotel, and the sedate\\nGermans lit their cigars, some of them before they had\\nfinished eating, and sat smoking as if there were plenty\\npf leisure for every thing in this world.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "A CITY OF COLOR.\\nAFTER a slow ride, of nearly eight hours, in what,\\nin Germany, is called an express train, through a\\nrain and clouds that hid from our view the Tyrol and\\nthe Swabian mountains, over a rolling, pleasant country,\\npast pretty little railway station-houses, covered with\\nvines, gay with flowers in the windows, and surrounded\\nwith beds of flowers, past switchmen in flaming scarlet\\njackets, who stand at the switches and raise the hand to\\nthe temple, and keep it there, in a military salute, as we\\ngo by, we come into old Augsburg, whose Confession is\\nnot so fresh in our minds as it ought to be. Portions of\\nthe ancient wall remain, and many of the towers and\\nthere are archways, picturesquely opening from street to\\nstreet, under several of which we drive on our way to the\\nThree Moors, a stately hostelry and one of the oldest in\\nGermany.\\nIt stood here in the year 1500; and the room is still\\nshown, unchanged since then, in which the rich Count\\nFugger entertained Charles V. The chambers are\\nnearly all immense. That in which we are lodged is\\nlarge enough for Queen Victoria indeed, I am glad to\\nsay that her sleeping-room at St. Cloud was not half so\\nspacious. One feels either like a count, or very lone-\\nsome, to sit down in a lofty chamber, say thirty-five feet\\nsquare, with little furniture, and historical and tragical\\nlife-size figures staring at one from the wall-paper. One\\nfears that they may come down in the deep night,\\n88", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "A CI TV OF COLOR. 89\\nand stand at the bedside, those narrow, canopied beds\\nthere in the distance, like the marble couches in the\\ncathedral. It must be a fearful thing to be a royal per-\\nson, and dwell in a palace, with resounding rooms and\\nnaked, waxed, inlaid floors. At the Three Moors one\\nsees a visitors book, begun in 1800, which contains the\\nnames of many noble and great people, as well as poets\\nand doctors and titled ladies, and much sentimental\\nwriting in French. It is my impression, from an in-\\nspection of the book, that we are the first untitled\\nvisitors.\\nThe traveller cannot but like Augsburg at once, for its\\nquaint houses, colored so diversely and yet harmoniously.\\nKemains of its former brilliancy yet exist in the frescos\\non the outside of the buildings, some of which are still\\nbright in color, though partially defaced. Those on the\\nHouse of Fugger have been restored, and are very brave\\npictures. These frescos give great animation and life\\nto the appearance of a street, and I am glad to see a\\ntaste for them reviving. Augsburg must have been very\\ngay with them two and three hundred years ago, when,\\nalso, it was the home of beautiful women of the middle\\nclass, who married princes. We went to see the house\\nin which lived the beautiful Agnes Bernauer, daughter\\nof a barber, who married Duke Albert III., of Bavaria.\\nThe house was nought, as old Samuel Pepys would say,\\nonly a high stone building, in a block of such but it is\\nenough to make a house attractive for centuries if a\\nfretty woman once looks out of its latticed windows, as\\nhave no doubt Agnes often did when the duke and his\\nretinue rode by in clanking armor.\\nBut there is no lack of reminders of old times. The\\ncathedral, which was begun before the Christian era\\nLould express its age with four figures, has two fine por-\\ntals, with quaint carving, and bronze doors of very old\\nwork, whereon the story of E\\\\ e and the serpent is liter-\\nally given, a representation of great theological, if of\\nBmall artistic value. And there is the old clock and", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "JO A CITY OF COLOR.\\nwatch tower, which for eight hundred years has enabled\\ntiie Augsburgers to keep the time of day and to look\\nout over the plain for the approach of an enemy. The\\ncity is full of fine bronze fountains, some of them of very\\nelaborate design, and adding a convenience and a beauty\\nto the town which American cities wholly want. In one\\nquarter of the town is the Fuggerei, a little city by\\nitself, surrounded by its own wall, the gates of which\\nare shut at night, with narrow streets and neat little\\nhouses. It was built by Hans Jacob Fugger the Rich,\\nas long ago as 1519, and is still inhabitated by indigent\\nRoman-Catholic families, according to the intention of\\nits founder. In the windows were lovely flowers. I saw\\nin the street several of those mysterious, short, old\\nwomen, so old and yet so little, all body and hardly any\\nlegs, who appear to have grown down into the ground\\nwith advancing years.\\nIt happened to be a rainy day, and cold, on the 30th\\nof July, when we left Augsburg; and the flat fields\\nthrough which we passed were uninviting under the\\ngray light. Large flocks of geese were feeding on the\\nwindy plains, tended by boys and women, who are\\nthe living fences of this country. I no longer wonder at\\nthe number of feather-beds at the inns, under which we\\nare apparently expected to sleep even in the warmest\\nnights. Shepherds with the regulation crooks, also were\\nwatching herds of sheep. Here and there a cluster of\\nred-roofed houses were huddled toj^ether into a village,\\nand in all directions rose tapering spires. Especially we\\nmarked the steeple of Blenheim, where Jack Churchill\\nwon the name for his magnificent country-seat, early in\\nthe last century. All this plain where the silly geese\\nfeed has been marched over and fought over by armies\\ntime and again. We effect the passage of the Danube\\nwithout difficulty, and on to Harburg, a little town of\\nlittle red houses, inhabited principally by Jews, huddled\\nunder a rocky ridge, upon the summit of which is a pic-\\nturesque mediseval castle, with many towers and turret^", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "A CITY OF COLOR. 91\\nn as pel feet preservation as wlien feudal flags floated\\nover it. And so on, slowly, with long stops at many sta-\\ntions, to give opportunity, I suppose, for the honest pas-\\nsengers to take in supplies of beer and sausages, to\\nNuremberg.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "A CITY LIMNG ON THE PAST.\\nVrUREMBERG, or Niirnberg, was built, I believe,\\njJN about the beginning of time. At least, in an old\\nblack-letter history of the city which I have seen, illus-\\ntrated with powerful wood-cuts, the first representation\\nis that of the creation of the world, which is immediately\\nfollowed by another of Nuremberg. No one who visits\\nit is likely to dispute its antiquity. Nobody ever goes\\nto Nuremberg but Americans, said a cynical British\\nofficer at Chamouny but they always go there. I\\nnever saw an American who hadn t been or was not\\ngoing to Nuremberg. Well, I suppose they wish to see\\nthe oldest-looking, and, next to a true Briton on his\\ntravels, the oddest thing on the Continent. The city lives\\nin the past still, and on its memories, keeping its old\\nwalls and moat entire, and nearly fourscore wall-towers,\\nin stern array. But grass grows in the moat, fruit-trees\\nthrive there, and vines clamber on the walls. One wan-\\nders about in the queer streets with the feeling of being\\ntransported back to the Middle Ages but it is difficult\\nto reproduce the impression on paper. Who can describ\\nthe narrow and intricate ways the odd houses wit\\nmany little gables; great roofs breaking out from eave\\nio ridgepole, with dozens of dormer-windows; hanging\\nbalconies of stone, carved and figure-beset, ornamented\\nand frescoed fronts the archways, leading into queer\\ncourts and alleys, and out again into broad streets the\\ntowers and fantastic steeples and the many old bridges^\\nwith obelisks and memorials of triumphal entries of con*\\nquerors and princes\\n92", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "A CITY LIVING ON THE PAST. v3\\nThe city, as I said, lives upon the memory of what it\\nhas been, and trades upon relics of its former fame\\nWhat it would have been without Albrecht Diirer, and\\nAdam Kraft the stone-mason, and Peter Vischer the\\nbronze-worker, and Viet Stoss who carved in wood, and\\nHans Sachs the shoemaker and poet-minstrel, it is diffi-\\ncult to say. Their statues are set up in the streets their\\nworks still live in the churches and city buildings, pic-\\ntures, and groups in stone and wood and their statues,\\nin all sorts of carving, are reproduced, big and little, in all\\nthe shop-windows, for sale. So, literally, the city is full\\nof the memory of them and the business of the city,\\naside from its manufactory of endless, curious toys, seems\\nto consist in reproducing them and their immortal works\\nto sell to strangers.\\nOther cities project new things, and grow with a\\nmodern impetus Nuremberg lives in the past, and traf-\\nfics on its ancient reputation. Of course, we went to see\\nihe houses where these old worthies lived, and the works\\nof art they have left behind them, things seen and\\ndescribed by everybody. The stone carving about the\\nchurch-portals and on side buttresses is inexpressibly\\nquaint and naive. The subjects are sacred and with the\\nsacred is mingled the comic, here as at Augsburg, where\\nover one portal of the cathedral, with saints and angels,\\nmonkeys climb and gibber. A favorite subject is that\\nof our Lord praying in the Garden, while the apostles,\\nwho could not watch one hour, are sleeping in various\\nattitudes of stony comicality. All the stone-cutters seem\\nto have tried their chisels on this group, and there are\\ndozens of them. The wise and foolish virgins also stand\\nat the church-doors in time-stained stone, the one\\nwith a perked-up air of conscious virtue, and the other\\nwith a penitent dejection that seems to merit better treat-\\nment. Over the great portal of St. Lawrence a mag-\\nnificent structure, with lofty twin spires and glorious\\nose-window is carved The Last Judgment. Un-\\nil(irneath, the dead are climbing out of their stone coffins", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "94 A CITY LIVING ON THE PAST.\\nabove sits the Judge, with the attending angels. On\\nthe right hand go away the stiff, prim saints, in flowing\\nrobes, and with palms and harps, up steps into heaven,\\nthrough a narrow door which St. Peter opens for them\\nwhile on the left depart the wicked, with wry faces and\\ndistorted forms, down into the stone flames, towards\\nwhich the Devil is dragging them by their stony hair.\\nThe interior of the Church of St. Lawrence is richer\\nthan any other I remember, with its magnificent pil-\\nlars of dark red stone, rising and foliating out to form\\nthe roof; its splendid windows of stained glass, glowing\\nwith sacred story a high gallery of stone entirely round\\nthe choir, and beautiful statuary on every column. Here,\\ntoo, is the famous Sacrament House of honest old Adam\\nKraft, the most exquisite thing I ever saw in stone. The\\ncolor is light gray and it rises beside one of the dark,\\nmassive pillars, sixty-four feet, growing to a point, which\\nthen strikes the arch of the roof, and there curls up like\\na vine to avoid it. The base is supported by the kneel-\\ning figures of Adam Kraft and two fellow-workmen, who\\nlabored on it for four years. Above is the Last Supper,\\nChrist blessing little children, and other beautiful tableaux\\nin stone. The Gothic spire grows up and around these,\\nnow and then throwing out graceful tendrils, like a vine,\\nand seeming to be rather a living plant than inanimate\\nstone. The faithful artist evidently had this feeling for\\nit for, as it grew under his hands, he found that it would\\nstrike the roof, or he must sacrifice something of its grace-\\nful proportion. So his loving and daring genius sug-\\nixested the happy design of letting it grow to its curving,\\ngraceful completeness.\\nHe who travels by a German railway needs patience\\nmid a full haversack. Time is of no value. The rate of\\nspeed of the trains is so slow, that one sometimes has a\\ndesire to, get out and walk, and the stoppages at the sta-\\ntions seem eternal but then we must remember that it\\nis a long distance to the bottom of a great mug of beer.\\nWe left Lindau on one of the usual trains at half-past", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "A CITY LIVING ON THE PAST. 95\\nfive in the mornins;, and readied Auo-sburo; at one o clock\\nin the afternoon the distance cannot be more than a\\nhundred miles. That is quicker than by diligence, and\\none has leisure to see the country as he jogs along.\\nThere is nothing more sedate than a German train in\\nmotion; nothing can stand so dead still as a German\\ntrain at a station. But there are express trains. We\\nwere on one from Augsburg to Nuremberg, and I think\\nmust have run twenty miles an hour. The fare on the\\nexpress trains is one-fifth higher than on the others.\\nThe cars are all comfortable and the officials, who wear\\na good deal of uniform, are much more civil and obliging\\nthan officials in a country where they do not wear uni-\\nform. So, not swiftly, but safely and in good-humor, we\\nrode to the capital of Bavaria.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH.\\nJ SAW yesterc ay, on tlie 31st of August, in the\\nEnglisli Garden, dead leaves whirling down to the\\nground, a too evident sign that the summer weather is\\ngoing. Indeed, it has been sour, chilly weather for a\\nweek now, raining a little every day, and with a very\\nautumn feeling in the air. The nightly concerts in the\\nbeer-gardens must have shivering listeners, if the bands\\ndo not, as many of them do, play within doors. The\\nline of droschke drivers, in front of the post-office colon-\\nnade, hide the red facings of their coats under long over-\\ncoats, and stand in cold expectancy beside their blanketed\\nhorses, which must need twice the quantity of black-\\nbread in this chilly air for the horses here eat bread,\\nlike people. I see the drivers every day slicing up the\\nblack loaves, and feeding them, taking now and then a\\nmouthful themselves, wetting it down with a pull from\\nthe mug of beer that stands within reach. And lastly (I\\nam still speaking of the weather), the gay military offi-\\ncers come abroad in long cloaks, to some extent conceal-\\ning their manly forms and smart uniforms, which I am\\nsure they would not do, except under the pressure of\\nnecessity.\\nYet I think this raw weather is not to continue. It is\\nonly a rough visit from the Tyrol, which will give place\\nto kinder influences. We came up here from hot Swit-\\nzerland at the end of July, expecting to find Munich a\\nr urnace. It will be dreadful in Munich, everybody said.\\n80 we left Luzerne, where it fo,^ warm, not daring to", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH. 97\\nStay till the expected rival sun, Victoria of England,\\nshould make the heat overpowering. But the first week\\nof August in Munich it was delicious weather, clear,\\nsparkling, bracing air, with no chill in it and no languor\\nin it, just as you would say it ought to be on a high,\\ngravelly plain, seventeen hundred feet above the sea.\\nThen came a week of what the Miincheners call hot\\nweather, with the thermometer up to eighty degrees\\nFahrenheit, and the white wide streets and gray build-\\ninsrs in a glare of light since then, weather of the most\\nuncertain sort.\\nMunich needs the sunlight. Not that it cannot better\\nspare it than grimy London for its prevailing color is\\nlight gray, and its many-tinted and frescoed fronts go far\\nto relieve the most cheerless day. Yet Munich attempts\\nto be an architectural reproduction of classic times and,\\nin order to achieve any success in this direction, it is\\nnecessary to have the blue heavens and golden sunshine\\nof Greece. The old portion of the city has some remains\\nof the Gothic, and abounds in archways and rambling\\nalleys, that suddenly become broad streets, and then again\\ncontract to the width of an alderman, and portions of\\nthe old wall and city gates old feudal towers stand in\\nthe market-place, and faded frescos on old clock-faces\\nand over archways speak of other days of splendor.\\nBut the Munich of to-day is as if built to order, raised\\nin a day by the command of one man. It was the old\\nKing Ludwig I., whose flower-wreathed bust stands in\\nthese days in the vestibule of the Glyptothek, in token\\nof his recent death, who gave the impulse for all this,\\nthouo-h some of the best buildings and streets in the city\\nhave been completed by his successors. The new city is\\nlaid out on a magnificent scale of distances, with wide\\nstreets, fine, open squares, plenty of room for gardens,\\nboth public and private and the art buildings and art\\nmonuments are well diptributed in fact, many a stately\\n^ouilding p iands in such isolation that it seems to ask\\nevery pass ^vr what it W9\u00c2\u00ab5 pur there for. Then, again,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "98 OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH.\\nBome of the new adornments lack fitness of location of\\npurpose. At the end of the broad, monotonous Ludwig\\nStrasse, and yet not at the end, for the road runs straight\\non into the flat country between rows of slender trees,\\nstands the Siege stlior, or Gate of Victory, an imitation\\nof the Constantine arch at Rome. It is surmounted by a\\nsplendid group in bronze, by Schwanthaler, Bavaria in\\nher war-chariot, drawn by four lions and it is in itself,\\nboth in its proportions and its numerous sculptural figures\\nand bas-reliefs, a fine recognition of the valor of the\\nBavarian army, to whom it is erected. Yet it is so\\ndwarfed by its situation, that it seems to have been placed\\nin the middle of the street as an obstruction. A walk\\nruns on each side of it. The Propylaeum, another mag-\\nnificent gateway, thrown across the handsome Brienner\\nStrasse, beyond the Glyptothek, is an imitation of that on\\ntJie Acropolis at Athens. It has fine Doric columns on\\nthe outside, and Ionic within, and the pediment groups\\nare bas-reliefs, by Schwanthaler, representing scenes in\\nmodern Greek history. The passage-ways for carriages\\nare through the side arches and thus the sidewalk\\nruns into the centre of the street, and foot-passers must\\ntwice cross the carriage-drive in going through the gate.\\nSuch things as these give one the feeling that art has\\nbeen forced beyond use in Munich and it is increased\\nwhen one wanders through the new churches, palaces,\\ngalleries, and finds frescos so prodigally crowded out of\\nthe way, and only occasionally-opened rooms so over-\\nloaded with them, and not always of the best, as to sacri-\\nfice all effect, and leave one with the sense that some\\ndemon of unrest has driven painters and sculptors and\\nplasterers, night and day, to adorn the city at a stroke\\nat least, to cover it with paint and bedeck it with mar-\\nbles, and to do it at once, leaving nothing for the sweet\\ngrowth and blossoming of time.\\nYou see, it is easy to grumble, and especially in a\\ncheerful, open, light, and smiling city, crammed with\\nworks of art, ancient and modern, its architecture a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH. 99\\nBtudy of all styles, and its foaming beer, said by anti-\\nquarians to be a good deal better than the mead drunk\\nin Odin s halls, only seven and a half kreuzers the\\nquart. Munich has so much, that it, of course, contains\\naiuch that can be criticised. The long, wide Ludwig\\nStrasse is a street of palaces, a street built up by the old\\nking, and regarded by him with great pride. But all\\nthe buildings are in the Romanesque style, a repetition\\nof one another to a monotonous degree only at the\\nlower end are there any shops or shop- windows, and a\\nmore dreary promenade need not be imagined. It has\\nneither shade nor fountains and on a hot day you can\\nsee how the sun would pour into it, and blind the passers.\\nBut few ever walk there at any time. A street that\\nleads nowhere, and has no gay windows, does not attract.\\nToward the lower end, in the Odeon Platz, is the eques-\\ntrian statue of Ludwig, a royally commanding figure,\\nwith a page on either side. The street is closed (so\\nthat it flows off on either side into streets of handsome\\nshops) by the Feldherrnhalle, Hall of the Generals, an\\nimitation of the beautiful Loggia dei Lanzi, at Florence,\\nthat as yet contains only two statues, which seem lost\\nin it. Here at noon, with parade of infantry, comes a\\nmilitary band to play for half an hour and there are\\nalways plenty of idlers to listen to them. In the high\\narcade a colony of doves is domesticated; and I like to\\nwatch them circling about and wheeling round the spires\\nof the over-decorated Theatine church opposite, and\\nperching on the heads of the statues on the fa9ade.\\nThe royal palace, near by, is a huddle of buildings\\nand courts, that I think nobody can describe or under-\\nstand, built at different times and in imitation of many\\nstyles. The front, toward the Hof Garden, a grassless\\nsquare of small trees, with open arcades on two sides for\\nshops, and partially decorated with frescos of land-\\nscapes and historical subjects, is a building of festive\\nhalls, a facade eight hundred feet long, in the revived\\nItalian style, and with a fine Ionic porch. The color vk", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "lOO OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH.\\nthe royal, dirty yellow. On tlie Max Joseph Platz,\\nwhich has a bronze statue of King Max, a seated figure,\\nand some elaborate bas-reliefs, is another front of the\\npalace, the Konigsbau, an imitation, not fully carried\\nour, of the Pitti Palace, at Florence. Between these is\\nthe old Residenz, adorned with fountain groups and\\nstatues in bronze. On another side are the church and\\ntheatre of the Residenz. The interior of this court\\nchapel is dazzling in appearance the pillars are, I\\nthink, imitation of variegated marble the sides are imi-\\ntation of the same the vaulting is covered with rich fres-\\ncos on gold ground. The whole effect is rich, but it is\\nnot at all sacred. Indeed, there is no church in Munich,\\nexcept the old cathedral, the Frauenkirche, with its\\nhigh Gothic arches, stained windows, and dusty old carv-\\nings, that gives one at all the sort of feeling that it is\\nsupposed a church should give. The court chapel in-\\nterior is boastingly said to reoemble St. Mark s, in Venice.\\nYou see how far imitation of the classic and Italian is\\ncarried here in Munich so, as I said, the buildings need\\nthe southern sunlight. Fortunately, they get the right\\nquality much of the time. The Glyptothck, a Grecian\\nstructure of one story, erected to hold the treasures of\\nclassic sculpture that King Ludwig collected, has a\\nbeautiful Ionic porch and pediment. On the outside are\\nniches filled with statues. In the pure sunshine and\\nunder a deep blue sky, its white marble glows with an\\nalmost ethereal beauty. Opposite stands another suc-\\ncessful imitation of the Grecian style of architecture, a\\nbuilding with a Corinthian porch, also of white marble.\\nThese, with the Propylasum, before mentioned, come out\\nwonderfully against a blue sky. A few squares distant\\nis the Pinakothek, with its treasures of old pictures, and\\nbeyond it the New Pinakothek, containing works of mod-\\nern artists. Its exterior is decorated with frescos, from\\ndesigns by Kaulbach these certainly appear best in a\\nBparkling light though I am bound to say that no ligh\\ncan make very much of them.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH. lOl\\nYet Munich is not all imitation. Its finest street, the\\nMaximilian, built by the late king of that name, is of a\\nnovel and wholly modern style of architecture, not an\\nimitation, though it may remind some of the new por-\\ntions of Paris. It runs for three-quarters of a mile, be-\\nginning with the post-office and its colonnades, with\\nfi~escos on one side, and the Hof Theatre, with its pedi-\\nment frescos, the largest opera-house in Germany, I\\nbelieve with stately buildings adorned with statues,\\nand elegant shops, down to the swift-flowing Isar, which\\nis spanned by a handsome bridge; or rather by two\\nbridges, for the Isar is partly turned from its bed above,\\nand made to turn wheels and drive machinery. At the\\nlower end the street expands into a handsome platz, with\\nyoung shade-trees, plats of grass, and gay beds of flow-\\ners. I look out on it as I write and I see across the\\nIsar the college building begun by Maximilian for the\\neducation of government officers and I see that it is\\nstill unfinished, indeed, a staring mass of brick, with\\nunsightly scafiblding and gaping windows. Money was\\nleft to complete it but the young king, who does not\\ncare for architecture, keeps only a mason or two on the\\nbrick work, and an artist on the exterior frescos. At\\nthis rate the Cologne Cathedral will be finished and\\ndecay before this is built. On either side of it, on the\\nelevated bank of the river, stretch beautiful grounds,\\nwith green lawns, fine trees, and well-kept walks.\\nNot to mention the English Garden in speaking of the\\noutside aspects of the city, would be a great oversight.\\nIt was laid out originally by the munificent American,\\nCount Rumford, and is called English, I suppose, because\\nIt is not in the artificial Continental style. Paris has\\nnothing to compare with it for natural beauty, Paris,\\nwhich cannot let a tree grow, but must clip it down to\\nsuit French taste. It is a noble park four miles in\\nlength, and perhaps a quarter of that in width, a park\\nof splendid old trees, grand, sweeping avenues, open\\nglades of free-growing gras?, with delicious, shady walks", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00a302 OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH.\\ncharming drives, and rivers of water. For the Isar is\\ntrained to flow through it in two rapid streams, under\\nbridges and over rapids, and by willow-hung banks.\\nThere is not wanting even a lake; and there is, I am\\nsorry to say, a temple on a mound, quite in the classic\\nstyle, from which one can see the sun set behind the\\nmany spires of Munich. At the Chinese Tower two\\nmilitary bands play every Saturday evening in the sum-\\nmer and thither the carriages drive, and the prome-\\nnad(^.rs assemble there, between five and six o clock and\\nwhile the bands play, the Germans drink beer, and smoke\\ncigars, and the fashionably-attired young men walk round\\nand round the circle, and the smart young soldiers ex-\\nhibit their handsome uniforms, and stride about with\\nclanking swords.\\nWe felicitated ourselves that we should have no lack\\nof music when we came to Munich. I think we have\\nnot though the opera has only just begun, and it is the\\nvacation of the Conservatoire. There are first the mili-\\ntary bands there is continually a parade somewhere,\\nand the streets are full of military musie, and finely exe-\\ncuted too. Then of beer-gardens there is literally no\\nend, and there are nightly concerts in them. There are\\niwo brothers Hunn, each with his band, who, like the\\nancient Huns, have taken the city and its gardens are\\ngiven over to their unending waltzes, polkas, and opera\\nmedleys. Then there is the church music on Sundays\\nand holidays, which is largely of a military character at\\nleast, has the aid of drums and trumpets, and the whole\\nband of brass. For the first few days of our stay here\\nwe had rooms near the Maximilian Platz and the Karl s\\nThor. I think there was some sort of a yearly fair in\\nprogress, for the great platz was filled with temporary\\ni)00ths a circus had set itself up there, and there were\\ninnumerable side-shows and lottery-stands and I believe\\nthat each little shanty and puppet-show had its band or\\nfraction of a band, for there was never heard such a toot-\\ning and blowing and scraping, such a pounding and din", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "OUTSIDE ASPECTS OF MUNICH. 103\\nniiig and slang-wlianging, since the day of stopping work\\non the Tower of Babel. The circus band confined itself\\nmostly to one tune and as it went all day long, and late\\ninto the night, we got to know it quite well at least, the\\nbass notes of it, for the lighter tones came to us indis-\\ntinctly. You know that blurt, blurt, thump, thump, disso-\\nlutesortof caravan tune. That was it. The English Cafe\\nwas not far off, and there the Hunns and others also\\nmade night melodious. The whole air was one throb and\\nthrump. The only refuge from it was to go into one of\\nthe gardens, and give yourself over to one band. And so\\nit was possible to have delightful music, and see the\\nhonest Germans drink beer, and gossip in friendly fellow-\\nship and with occasional hilarity. But music we had,\\nearly and late. We expected quiet in our present quar-\\nters. The first morning, at six o clock, we were startled\\nby the resonant notes of a military band, that set the\\nechoes flying between the houses, and a regiment of\\ncavalry went clanking down the street. But that is a\\nnot un^velcome morning serenade and reveille. Not so\\nagreeable is the young man next door, who gives hilari-\\nous co iicerts to his friends, and sings and bangs his piano\\nall da^ Sunday nor the screaming young woman oppo-\\ngite. Tet it is something to be in an atmosphere of\\nmusii*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "THE MILITARY LIFE OF MUNICH.\\nTHIS morning I was awakened early by the strains\\nof a military band. It was a clear, sparkling morn-\\ning, tbe air full of life, and yet the sun showing its warm,\\nsouthern side. As the mounted musicians went by, the\\nsquare was quite filled with the clang of drum and trum-\\npet, which became fainter and fainter, and at length was\\nlost on the ear beyond the Isar, but preserved the per-\\nfection of time and the precision of execution for which\\nthe miUtary bands of the city are remarkable. After the\\nband came a brave array of officers in bright uniform,\\nupon horses that pranced and curvetted in the sunshine\\nand the regiment of cavalry followed, rank on rank of\\nsplendidly-mounted men, who ride as if born to the sad-\\ndle. The clatter of hoofs on the pavement, the jangle\\nof bit and sabre, the occasional word of command, the\\nonward sweep of the well-trained cavalcade, continued\\nfor a long time, as if the lovely morning had brought all\\nthe cavalry in the city out of barracks. But this is an\\nalmost daily sight in Munich. One regiment after an-\\nother croes over the river to the drill-o;round. In the hot\\nmornings I used quite to pity the troopers who rode away\\nin the glare in scorching brazen helmets and breast\\nplates. But only a portion of the regiments dress in that\\nabsurd manner. The most wear a simple uniform, and\\nlook very soldierly. The horses are almost invariably\\nline animals, and I have not seen such riders in Europe.\\nIndeed, everybody in Munich who rides at all ridea\\n\u00c2\u00abye.U, Either most of the horsemen have served in the\\n104", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "THE MILITARY LIFE OF MUNICH. 105\\ncavalry, or horsemansliip, that noble art to witch the\\nworld, is in high repute here.\\nSpeaking of soldiers, Munich is full of them. There\\nare huge caserns in every part of the city crowded\\nwith troops. This little kingdom of Bavaria has a\\nhundred and twenty thousand troops of the line. Every\\nman is obliged to serve in the army continuously three\\nyears and every man between the ages of twenty-one\\nand forty-five must go with his regiment into camp or\\nbarrack several weeks in each year, no matter if the\\nharvest rots in the field, or the customers desert the\\nuncared-for shop. The service takes three of the best\\nyears of a young man s life. Most of the soldiers in Mu-\\nnich are young one meets hundreds of mere boys in\\nthe uniform of officers. I think every seventh man you\\nmeet is a soldier. There must be between fifteen and\\ntwenty thousand troops quartered in the city now. The\\nyoung officers are everywhere, lounging in the cafes^\\nsmoking and sipping coffee, on all the public promenades,\\nin the gardens, the theatres, the churches. And most\\nof them are fine-looking fellows, good figures in elegantly-\\nfitting and tasteful uniforms but they do like to show\\niheir handsome forms and hear their sword-scabbards\\nrattle on the pavement as they stride by. The beer-\\ngardens are full of the common soldiers, who empty no\\nend of quart mugs in alternate pulls from the same\\nearthen jug, with the utmost jollity and good fellowship.\\nOn the street, salutes between officers and men are per-\\npetual, punctiliously given and returned, the hand raised\\nto the temple, and held there for a second. A young\\ng!;allant, lounging down the Theatiner or the Maximilian\\nStrasse, in his shining and snug uniform, white kids, and\\npolished boots, with jangling spurs and the long sword\\nclanking on the walk, raising his hand ever and anon in\\ncondescending salute to a lower in rank, or with affable\\ngrace to an equal, is a sight worth beholding, and for\\nwhich one cannot be too grateful. We have not all been\\ncreated with the natural shape for soldiers, but we have\\n^ves given us that we may behold them.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "Io6 THE MILITARY LIFE OF MUNICH.\\nBavaria fought, you know, on the wrong side at Sa-\\ndowa but the result of the war left her in confederation\\nwith Prussia. The company is getting to be very dis-\\ntasteful, for Austria is at present more liberal than Prus-\\nsia. Under Prussia one must either be a soldier or a\\nslave, the democrats of Munich say. Bavaria has the\\nmost liberal constitution in Germany, except that of\\nWurtemberg, and the people are jealous of any curtail-\\nment of liberty. It seems odd that anybody should look\\nto the house of Hapsburg for liberality. The attitude\\nof Prussia compels all the little states to keep up armies,\\nwhich eat up their substance, and burden the people with\\ntaxes. This is the more to be regretted now, when Bava-\\nria is undergoing a peaceful revolution, and throwing off\\nthe trammels of galling customs in other respects.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "THE EMANCIPATION OF MUNICH.\\nTFIHE 1st of September saw go into complete effect\\nJL the laws enacted in 1867, which have inaugurated\\nthe greatest changes in business and social life, and mark\\nan era in the progress of the people worthy of fetes and\\ncommemorative bronzes. We heard the other night at\\nthe opera-house William Tell unmutilated. For many\\nyears this liberty-breathing opera was not permitted to\\nDe given in Bavaria, except with all the life of it cut out.\\nIt was first presented entire by order of young King\\nLudwig, who, they say, was induced to command its\\nunmutilated reproduction at the solicitation of Richard\\nWagner, who used to be, and very likely is now, a\\nRed, and was banished from Saxony in 1848 for fight-\\ning on the people s side of a barricade in Dresden. It is\\nthe fashion to say of the young king, that he pays no\\nheed to the business of the kingdom. You hear that the\\nhandsome boy only cares for music and horseback exer-\\ncise he plays much on the violin, and rides away into\\nthe forest attended by only one groom, and is gone for\\ndays together. He has composed an opera, which has\\nnot yet been put on the stage. People, when they speak\\nof him, tap their foreheads with one finger. But I don t\\nbelieve it. The same liberality that induced him, years\\nao-o, to restore William Tell to the stage has character-\\nized the government under him ever since.\\nFormerly no one could engage in any trade or busi-\\nuess in Bavaria without previous examination before,\\nlor", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "ItoS THE EMANCIPA TION OF MUNICH.\\nRnd permission from, a magistrate. If a boy wished to\\nbe a baker, for instance, he had first to serve four years\\nof apprenticeship. If then he wished to set up business\\nfor himself, he must get permission, after passing an\\nexamination. This permission could rarely be obtained;\\nfor the magistrate usually decided that there were\\nalready as many bakers as the town needed. His only\\nother resource was to buy out an existing business, and\\nthis usually costs a good deal. When he petitioned for\\nthe privilege of starting a bakery, all the bakers pro-\\ntested. And he could not even buy out a stand, and\\ncarry it on, without strict examination as to qualifica-\\ntions. This was the case in every trade. And to make\\nmatters worse, a master workman could not employ a\\njourneyman out of his shop so that, if a journeyman\\ncould not get a regjular situation, he had no work. Then\\nthere were endless restrictions upon the manufacture and\\nsale of articles one person could only make one article,\\nor one portion of an article; one might manufacture\\nshoes for women, but not for men he might make an\\narticle in the shop and sell it, but could not sell it if any\\none else made it outside, or vice versa.\\nNearly all this mass of useless restriction on trades\\nand business, which palsied all effort in Bavaria, is\\nremoved. Persons are free to enter into any business\\nthey like. The system of apprenticeship continues, but\\nso modified as not to be oppressive; and all trades are\\nleft to regulate themselves by natural competition. Al-\\nready Munich has felt the benefit of the removal of\\nthese restrictions, which for nearly a year has been anti-\\ncipated, in a growth of population and increased busi-\\nness.\\nBut the social change is still more important. The\\nrestrictions upon marriage were a serious injury to the\\nstate. If Hans wished to marry, and felt himself ade-\\nquate to the burdens and responsibilities of the double\\nBtate, and the honest fraulein was quite willing to under-\\ntake its trials and risks with him, it was not at al", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "THE EMANCIPA TION OF MUNICH. 109\\nenough that in the moonlighted beer-garden, while the\\nband played, and they peeled the stinging radish, and\\nate the Switzer cheese, and drank from one mug, she\\nallowed his arm to steal around her stout waist. All\\nthis love and fitness went for nothing in the eyes of the\\nmagistrate, who referred the application for permission\\nto marry to his associate advisers, and they inquired into\\nthe applicant s circumstances and if, in their opinion,\\nhe was not worth enough money to support a wife prop-\\nerly, permission was refused for him to try. The conse-\\nquence was late marriages, and fewer than there ought\\nto be, and other ill results. Now the matrimonial gates\\nare lifted high, and the young man has not to ask per-\\nmission of any snuffy old magistrate to marry. I do not\\nhear that the consent of the maidens is more difficult to\\nobtain than formerly.\\nNo city of its size is more prolific of pictures than\\nMunich. I do not know how all its artists manage to\\nlive, but many of them count upon the American public.\\nI hear everywhere that the Americans like this, and do\\nnot like that and I am sorry to say that some artists,\\nwho have done better things, paint professedly to suit\\nAmericans, and not to express their own conceptions of\\nbeauty. There is one who is now quite devoted to\\ndashing ofi rather lamp-blacky moonlights, because, he\\nsays, the Americans fancy that sort of thing. I see one\\nof his smirchy pictures hanging in a shop-window, await-\\ning the advent of the citizen of the United States. I\\ntrust that no word of mine will injure the sale of the\\nmoonlights. There are some excellent figure-painters\\nhere, and one can still buy good modern pictures foi\\nreasonable prices.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "FASHION IN THE STREETS.\\nVTTAS there ever elsewhere such a blue, transparent\\nVV sky as this here in Munich? At noon, looking\\nup to it from the street, above the gray houses, the color\\nand depth are marvellous. It makes a background for\\nthe Grecian art buildings and gateways, that would\\ncheat a risen Athenian who should see it into the belief\\nthat he was restored to his beautiful city. The color\\nholds, too, toward sundown, and seems to be poured, like\\nsomething solid, into the streets of the city.\\nYou should see then the Maximilian Strasse, when the\\nlight floods the platz where Maximilian in bronze sits\\nin his chair, illuminates the frescos on the pediments\\nof the Hof Theatre, brightens the Pompeian red under\\nthe colonnade of the post-office, and streams down the\\ngay thoroughfare to the trees and statues in front of the\\nNational Museum, and into the gold-dusted atmosphere\\nbeyond the Isar. The street is filled with promenaders\\nstrangers who saunter along with the red book in one\\nhand, a man and his wife, the woman dragged reluc-\\ntantly past the windows of fancy articles, which are so\\ncheap, the man breaking his neck to look ap at the\\nbuildings, especially at the comical heads and figures in\\netone that stretch out from the little oriel-windows in\\nthe highest story of the Four-Seasons Hotel, and look\\ndown upon the moving throng Munich bucks in coats\\nof velvet, swinging light canes, and smoking cigars\\nOOO Till\\nthrough long and elaborately-carved meerschaum hold-\\ners Mr.nich ladies in dresses of that inconvenient lengtb\\n110", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "FASHIOJSr IN THE S TREE TS. in\\nthat neither sweeps the pavement nor clears it peasants\\nfrom the Tyrol, the men in bhick, tight breeches, that\\nbutton from the knee to the ankle, short jackets and\\nvests set thickly with round silver buttons, and conical\\nhats with feathers, and the women in short quilted and\\nquilled petticoats, of barrel-like roundness from the\\nbroad hips down, short waists ornamented with chains\\nand barbarous brooches of white metal, with the oddest\\nhead-gear of gold and silver heirlooms students with\\nlittle red or green embroidered brimless caps, with the\\nribbon across the breast, a folded shawl thrown over one\\nshoulder, and the inevitable switch-cane porters in red\\ncaps, with a coil of twine about the waist young fellows\\nfrom Bohemia, with green coats, or coats trimmed with\\n^reen, and green felt hats with a stiff feather stuck in\\nthe side and soldiers by the hundreds, of all ranks and\\norganizations; common fellows in blue, staring in at the\\nshop-windows, officers in resplendent uniforms, clanking\\ntheir swords as they swagger past. Now and then, an\\nelegant equipage dashes by, perhaps the four horses of\\nthe handsome young king, with mounted postilions and\\noutriders, or a liveried carriage of somebody born with\\na von before his name. As the twilight comes on, the\\nshutters of the shop-windows are put up. It is time to\\ngo to the opera, for the curtain rises at half-past six, or\\nto the beer-gardens, where delicious music marks, but\\ndoes not interrupt, the flow of excellent beer.\\nOr you may if you choose, and I advise you to do it,\\nwalk at the same hour in the English Garden, which is\\nbut a step from the arcades of the Hof Garden, but a\\nstep to the entrance, whence you may wander for miles\\nand miles in the most enchanting scenery. Art has not\\nbeen allowed here to spoil nature. The trees, which\\nare of magnificent size, are left to grow naturally the\\nIsar, which is turned into it, flows in more than one\\nstream with its mountain impetuosity the lake is grace-\\nfully indented and overhung with trees, and presents\\never-changing aspects of loveliness as you walk along iti", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "112 FASHION IN THE STREETS.\\nbanky there are open, sunny meadows, in whicli sinojle\\ngiant trees or splendid groups of them stand, and walka\\nwithout end winding under leafy Gothic arches. You\\nknow already that Munich owes this fine park to the\\nforesight and liberality of an American Tory, Benjamin\\nThompson (Count Rumfbrd), born in Rumford, Vt., who\\nalso relieved Munich of beo-gars.\\nI have spoken of the number of soldiers in Munich.\\nFor six weeks the Landwehr, or militia, has been in\\ncamp in various parts of Bavaria. There was a grand\\nreview of them the other day on the Field of Mars, by\\nthe king, and many of them have now gone home. They\\nstrike an unmilitary man as a very efficient body of troops.\\nSo far as I could see, they were armed with breech-load-\\ning rifles. There is a treaty by which Bavaria agreed\\nto assimilate her military organization to that of Prussia.\\nIt is thus that Bismarck is continually getting ready.\\nBut if the Landwehr is gone, there are yet remaining\\ntroops enough of the line. Their chief use, so far as it\\nconcerns me, is to make pageants in the streets, and to\\nsend their bands to play at noon in the public squares.\\nEvery day, when the sun shines down upon the mounted\\nstatue of Ludwig I., in front of the Odeon, a band plays\\nin an open Loggia, and there is always a crowd of idlers\\nin the square to hear it. Everybody has leisure for that\\nsort of thing here in Europe and one can easily learn\\nhow to be idle and let the world wag. They have found\\nout here what is disbelieved in America, that the world\\nwill continue to turn over once in about twenty-four\\nhours (they are not accurate as to the time) without\\ntheir aid. To return to our soldiers. The cavalry most\\nimpresses me the men are so finely mounted, and they\\nride royally. In these sparkling mornings, when the\\nregiments clatter past, with swelling music and shining\\narmor, riding away to I know not what adventure and\\nglory, I confess that I long to follow them. I have long had\\nthis desire and the other morning, determining to satisfy\\nitj I seized my hat and went after the prancing proces-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "FASHION IN THE STREE TS. 1 13\\nsion. I am sorry I did. For, after trudging after it\\nfchrough street after street, the fine horsemen all rode\\nthrough an arched gateway, and disappeared in barracks,\\nto my great disgust and the troopers dismounted, and\\nled their steeds into stables.\\nAnd yet one never loses a walk here in Munich. 1\\nfound myself that morning by the Isar Thor, a restored\\nmediaeval city-gate. The gate is double, with flanking\\noctagonal towers, enclosing a quadrangle. Upon the\\ninner wall is a fresco of The Crucifixion. Over the\\nouter front is a representation, in fresco painting, of the\\ntriumphal entry into the city of the Emperor Louis of\\nBavaria after the battle of Ampfing. On one side of the\\ngate is a portrait of the Virgin, on gold ground, and on\\nthe other a very passable one of the late Dr. Hawes of\\nHartford, with a Pope s hat on. Walking on, I came to\\nanother arched gateway and clock-tower near it an old\\nchurch, with a high wall adjoining, whereon is a fresco\\nof cattle led to slaughter, showing that I am in the vicin-\\nity of the Victual Market; and I enter it through a\\nnarrow, crooked alley. There is nothing there but an\\nassemblage of shabby booths and fruit-stands, and au\\nancient stone tower in ruins and overgrown with ivy.\\nLeaving this, I came out to the Marian Platz, where\\nstands the column, Avith the statue of the Virgin and\\nChild, set up by Maximilian I. in 1638 to celebrate the\\nvictory in the battle which established the Catholic\\nsu})remacy in Bavaria. It is a favorite praying-place\\nfor the lower classes. Yesterday was a fete day, and\\nthe base of the column and half its height are lost in a\\nmass of flowers and evergreens. In fi-ont is erected an\\naltar with a broad, carpeted platform and a strip of the\\nplatz before it is enclosed with a railing, within which\\nare praying-benches. The sun shines down hot but\\nthere are several poor women kneeling there, with their\\nbaskets beside them. I happen along there at sundown*,\\nand there are score of women kneeling on the hard\\nitones, outside the raiiirig saying their prayers in loud\\niQ*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "114 FASHION IN THE STREETS.\\nvoices. The mass of flowers is still sweet and gay and\\nfresli; a fountain with fantastic figures is flashing near\\nby the crowd, going home to supper and beer, gives no\\nheed to the praying; the stolid drosche-drivers stand\\nlistlessly by. At the head of the square is an artillery\\nstation, and a row of cannon frowns on it. On one side\\nis a house with a tablet in the wall, recording the fact\\nthat Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden once lived in it.\\nWhen we came to Munich, the great annual fair was\\nin p ogress and the large Maximilian Platz (not to be\\nconfounded with the street of that name) was filled with\\nbooths of cheap merchandise, puppet-shows, lo^,tery\\nshanties, and all sorts of popular amusements. It waa\\na fine time to study peasant costumes. The city was\\ncrowded with them on Sunday; and let us not forget\\nthat the first visit of the peasants was to the churches\\nthey invariably attended early mass before they set out\\nupon the day s pleasure. Most of the churches have\\ntiervices at all hours till noon, some of them with fine\\nclassical and military music. One could not but be\\nstruck with the devotional manner of the simple women,\\nin their queer costumes, who walked into the gaudy edi-\\nfices, were absorbed in their prayers for an hour, and\\nthen went away. I suppose they did not know how odd\\nthey looked in their high, round fur hats, or their fan-\\ntastic old ornaments, nor that there was any thing amiss\\nin brino-ino; their bio; baskets into church with them.\\nAt hast, their simple, unconscious manner was better\\nthan that of many of the city people, some of whom\\nutare about a good deal, while going through the service,\\nand stop in the midst of crossings and genuflections to\\ntake snufF and pass it to their neighbors. But there are\\nalways present simple and homelike sort of people, who\\nneither follow the fashions nor look round on them\\nrespectable, neat old ladies, in the faded and carefully-\\npreserved silk gowns, such as the New-England women\\n\u00c2\u00bb7ear to meeting.\\nNo one can help admiring the simplicity, kindliness", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "FASHION IN THE STREETS. ii^\\nand hoaesty of the Germans. The universal (X)urtesy\\nand friendliness of manner have a very different seeming\\nfrom the politeness of the French. At the hotels in the\\ncountry, the landlord and his wife and the servant join\\nin hoping you will sleep well when you go to bed. The\\nlittle maid at Heidelberg who served our meals always\\nwent to the extent of wishing us a good appetite when\\nshe had brought in the dinner. Here in Munich the\\npeople we have occasion to address in the street are uni-\\nformly courteous. The shop-keepers are obliging, and\\nrarely servile, like the English. You are thanked, and\\npunctiliously wished the good day, whether you purchase\\nany thing or not. In shops tended by women, gentlemen\\ninvariably remove their hats. If you buy only a kreu-\\nzer s worth of fruit of an old woman, she says words that\\nwould be, literally translated, I thank you beautifully.\\nWith all this, one locks kindly on the childish love the\\nGermans have for titles. It is, I believe, difficult for the\\nGerman mind to comprehend that we can be in good\\nstanding at home, unless we have some title prefixed to\\nour names, or some descriptive phrase added. Our good\\nlandlord, who waits at the table and answers our bell,\\none of whose tenants is a living baron, having no title\\nto put on his door-plate under that of the baron, must\\nneeds dub himself privatier and he insists upon\\nprefixing the name of this unambitious writer with the\\nennobling von; and at the least he insists, in common\\nwith the tradespeople, that I am a Herr Doctor.\\nThe bills of purchases by madame come made out to\\nFrau well-born. At a hotel in Heidelberg,\\nwhere I had registered my name with that distinctnesb\\nof penmanship for which newspaper men are justly con-\\nspicuous, and had added to my own name wife, I\\nwas not a little tiattered to appear in the reckoning cis\\nHerr Doctor Mam3sweise.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "THE GOTTESACKER AND BAVARIAN\\nFUNERALS.\\nTO change the subject from gay to grave. The\\nGottesacker of Munich is called the finest cemetery\\nin Germany at least, it surpasses them in the artistic\\ntaste of its monuments. Natural beauty it has none it is\\nsimply a long, narrow strip of ground enclosed in walls,\\nwith straight, parallel walks running the whole length,\\nand narrow cross-walks; and yet it is a lovely burial-\\nground. There are but few trees but the whole enclosure\\nis a conservatory of beautiful flowers. Every grave is cov-\\nered with them, every monument is surrounded with\\nthem. The monuments are unpretending in size, but\\nthere are many fine designs, and many finely-executed\\nbusts and statues and allegorical figures, in both marble\\nand bronze. The place is full of sunlight and color. I\\nnoticed that it was much frequented. In front of every\\nplace of sepulchre stands a small urn for water, with a\\nbrush hanging by, with which to sprinkle the flowers. I\\nsaw, also, many women and children coming and going\\nwith watering-pots, so that the flowers never droop for\\nwant of care. At the lower end of the old ground is an\\no])en arcade, wherein are some effigies and busts, and\\nmany ancient tablets set into the wall. Beyond this is\\nthe new cemetery, an enclosure surrounded by a high\\nwall of brick, and on the inside by an arcade. The\\nspace within is planted with flowers, ind laid out for the\\nburial of the people; the arcades are devoted to the\\noccupation of those who can afford costly tombs. Onlf\\n116", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "THE GOTTESACKER AND uf\\na small number of tliem are yet occupied there are some\\ngood busts and monuments, and some frescos on the\\npanels rather more striking for size and color than for\\nbeauty.\\nBetween the two cemeteries is the house for the dead.\\nWhen I walked down the long central allee of the old\\nground, I saw at the farther end, beyond a fountain,\\ntwinkling lights. Coming nearer, I found that they pro-\\nceeded from the large windows of a building, which was\\na part of the arcade. People were looking in at the win-\\ndows, going and coming to and from them continually\\nand I was prompted by curiosity to look within. A most\\nunexpected sight met my eye. In a long room, upon ele-\\nvated biers, lay people dead: they were so disposed\\nthat the faces could be seen and there they rested in a\\nsolemn repose. Officers in uniform, citizens in plain\\ndress, matrons and maids in the habits that they wore\\nwhen living, or in the white robes of the grave. About\\nmost of them were lighted candles. About all of them\\nwere flowers some were almost covered with bouquets.\\nThere were rows of children, little ones scarce a span\\nlong, in the white caps and garments of innocence, as\\nif asleep in beds of bowers. How naturally they all were\\nlying, as if only waiting to be called 1 Upon the thumb\\nof every adult was a ring in which a string was tied that\\nwent through a pulley above and communicated with a\\nbell in the attendant s room. How frightened he would\\nbe if the bell should ever sound, and he should go into\\nthat hall of the dead to see who rang 1 And yet it is a\\nmost wise and humane provision and many years ago,\\nthere is a tradition, an entombment alive was prevented\\nby it. There are three rooms in all and all those who\\ndie in Munich must be brought and laid in one of them,\\nto be seen of all who care to look therein. I suppose\\nthat wealth and rank have some privileges but it is the\\nlaw that a person having been pronounced dead by the\\nphysician shall be the same day brought to the dead\\nhouse, and lie there three whole days before interment.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "liS BAVARIAN FUNERALS.\\nThere is something peculiar in the obsequies of Mu\\nnieh, especially in the Catholic portion of the population.\\nShortly after the death, there is a short service in the\\ncourtyard of the house, which, with the entrance, is Imng\\nin costly mourning, if the deceased was rich. The body\\nis then carried in the car to the dead-house, attended by\\nthe priests, the male members of the family, and a pro-\\ncession of torch-bearers, if that can be afforded. Three\\ndays after, the burial takes place from the dead-house,\\nonly males attending. The women never go to the fune-\\nral but some days after, of which public notice is given\\nby advertisement, a public service is held in church, at\\nwhich all the family are present, and to which the friends\\nare publicly invited. Funeral obsequies are as costly\\nhere as in America but every thing is here regulated\\nand fixed by custom. There are as many as five or six\\nclasses of funerals recognized. Those of the first class,\\nas to rank and expense, cost about a thousand guldens.\\nThe second class is divided into six sub-classes. The\\nthird is divided into two. The cost of the first of the\\nthird class is about four hundred guldens. The low-\\nest class of those able to have a funeral costs twenty-five\\nguldens. A gulden is about two francs. There are no\\ncarriages used at the funerals of Catholics, only at those\\nof Protestants and Jews.\\nI spoke of the custom of advertising the deaths. A\\nconsiderable portion of the daily newspapers is devoted\\nto these announcements, which are printed in display\\ntyi)e, like the advertisements of dry-goods sellers with\\nyou. I will roughly translate one which I happen to see\\njust now. It reads, Death advertisement. It has\\npleased God the Almighty, in his inscrutable providence,\\nto take away our innermost loved, best husband, father,\\ngrandfather, uncle, brother-in-law, and cousin, Herr\\ndyer of cloth and silk, yesterday night, at eleven\\no clock, after three weeks of severe suffering, having par-\\ntaken of the holy sacrament, in his sixty-sixth year, out\\nof this earthly abode of calamity into the better Beyond", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE GOTTESACKFR. 119\\nThose who knew his good heart, his great honesty, as\\nivell as his patience in suffering, will know how justly to\\nEstimate our grief. This is signed by the deep-griev-\\ning survivors, the widow, son, daughter, and daughter-\\nin-law, in the name of the absent relatives. After the\\nname of the son is written, Dyer in cloth and silk.\\nThe notice closes with an announcement of the funeral\\nat the cemetery, and a service at the church the day\\nafter. The advertisement I have given is not uncommon\\neither for quaintness or simplicity. It is common to\\nengrave upon the monument the business as well as the\\nitle of the departed.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "THE OCTOBER FEST. THE PEAS ANTS\\nAND THE KING.\\nON tlie 11th of October the sun came out, after a\\nretirement of nearly two weeks. The cause of the\\nappearance was the close of the October Fest. This\\ngreat popular carnival has the same effect upon the\\nweather in Bavaria that the Yearly Meeting of Friends\\nis known to produce in Philadelphia, and the Great Na-\\ntional Horse Fair in New England. It always rains\\nduring the October Fest. Having found this out, I do\\nnot know why they do not change the time of it but I\\npresume they are wise enough to feel that it would be\\nuseless. A similar attempt on the part of the Pennsyl-\\nvania Quakers merely disturbed the operations of nature,\\nbut did not save the drab bonnets from the annual wet-\\nting. There is a subtle connection between such gather-\\nings and the gathering of what are called the elements,\\na sympathetic connection, which we shall, no doubt,\\none day understand, when we have collected facts enough\\non the subject to make a comprehensive generaUzation,\\nafter Mr. Buckle s method.\\nThis fair, which is just concluded, is a true Folks-\\nFest, a season especially for the Bavarian people, an\\nagricultural fair and cattle show, but a time of gene-\\nral jollity and amusement as well. Indeed, the main\\nobject of a German fair seems to be to have a good time\\nand in this it is in marked contrast with American fairs.\\nThe October Fest was instituted for the people by the\\nkl Ludwig I. on the occasion of his marriage and it\\n120", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "r*7i? OCTOBER P-EST. 1 21\\nijwvS ever sinea vetamed its position as the great fefuva,]\\nof the Ba\\\\ arlau people, and particularly of the peasants.\\nIt offers a rare opportunity to the stranger to study the\\ncoifeiames of the peasants, and to see how they amuso\\ntheaiselves. One can judge a good deal of the progresfi\\nof a people by the sort of amusements that satisfy them.\\n1 am not about to draw any philosophical interferences,\\n1 am a mere looker-on in Muaich but I have never\\nanywhere else seen puppet-shows afford so much delight,\\nnor have I ever seen anybody get more satisfaction out\\nof a sausage and a mug of beer, with the tum-tum of a\\nband near by, than a Bavarian peasaat.\\nThe Fest was held on the Thereden Wiese, a vast\\nmeadow on the outskirts of the city. The ground rises\\non one side of this by an abrupt step, some thirty or\\nforty feet high, like the bench of a Western river.\\nThis bank is terraced for seats the whole length, or as\\nfar down as the statue of Bavaria so that there are turf\\nseats, I should judge, for three-quarters of a mile, for a\\ngreat many thousands of people, who can look dowj\\nupon the race-course, the tents, houses, and booths of the\\nfair ground, and upon the roof and spires of the city\\nbeyond. The statue is, as you know, the famous bronze\\nBavaria of Schwanthaler, a colossal female figure, fifty\\nfeet high, and, with its pedestal, a hundred feet high,\\nwhich stands in front of the Hall of Fame, a Doric edi-\\nfice, in the open colonnades of which are displayed the\\nousts of the most celebrated Bavarians, together with\\nthose of a few poets and scholars who were so unfortu-\\nnate as not to be born here. The Bavaria stands with\\nthe rio-ht hand upon the sheathed sword, and the left\\nraised in the act of bestowing a wreath of victory; and\\nthe lion of the kingdom is beside her. This representa-\\ntive being is, of coarse, hollow. There is room for eight\\npeople in her head, wk ch I can testify is a Avarm place\\non a sunny da^ and one can peep out through loop-\\nholes and get a good view of the Alps of the Tyrol. To\\n\u00c2\u00abiay that this statue is giAv .eful or altogetlier eacceg^ful\\n11", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "122 THE FEASANTS AND THE KING.\\nwould oe an error but it is rather impressive, from its\\nsize, if for no other reason. In the cast of the hand\\nexhibited at the bronze foundery, the forefinger meas-\\nur(js over three feet long.\\nAlthough the Fest did not officially begin until Fri-\\nday, Oct. 2, yet the essential part of it, the amusements,\\nwas well under way on the Sunday before. The town\\nbegan to be filled with country people, and the holiday\\nmight be said to have commenced for the city gives\\nitself up to the occasion. The new art galleries are\\nclosed for some days but the collections and museums\\nof various sorts are daily open, gratis the theatres\\nredouble their efforts the concert-halls are in full blast\\nthere are dances nightly, and masked balls in the Folks\\nTheatre country relatives are entertained the peasants\\ngo about the streets in droves, in a simple and happy\\nframe of mind, wholly unconscious that they are the\\noddest-looking guys that have come down from the Mid-\\ndle Ages there is music in all the gardens, singing in\\nthe cafds^ beer flowing in rivers, and a mighty smell of\\ncheese, that goes up to heaven. If the eating of cheese\\nwere a religious act, and its odor an incense, I could not\\nsay enough of the devoutness of the Bavarians.\\nOf the picturesqueness and oddity of the Bavarian\\npeasants costumes, nothing but a picture can give you\\nany idea. You can imagine the men in tight breeches,\\nbuttoned below the knee, jackets of the jockey cut, and\\nboth jacket and waistcoat covered with big metal but-\\ntons, sometimes coins, as thickly as can be sewed on\\nbut the women defy the pen; a Bavarian peasant-woman,\\nin holiday dress, is the most fearfully and wonderfully\\nmade object in the universe. She displays a good length\\nof striped stockings, and wears thin slippers, or sandals\\nher skirts are like a hogshead, in size and shape, and\\nreach so near her shoulders as to make her appear hump-\\nbacked the sleeves are hugely swelled out at the shoul*\\nde\u00c2\u00bb:, and taper to the wrist the bodice is a stiff and nios*\\nla.Lx)rat(jly -ornamented piece of armor and there is a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "THE OCTOBER FEST. 123\\nkind of breastplate, or centre-piece, of gold, silver, and\\nprecious stores, or what Dasses for them and the head\\nis adorned with some monstrous heirloom, of finely-\\nwrorked gold or silver, or a tower, gilded and shining\\nwith long streamers, or bound in a simple black turban,\\nwith flowing ends. Little old girls, dressed like their\\nmothers, have the air of creations of the fancy, who have\\nwalked out of a fairy-book. There is an endless variety\\nin these old costumes and one sees, every moment, one\\nmore preposterous than the preceding. The girls from\\nthe Tyrol, with their bright neckerchiefs and pointed\\nblack felt bats, with gold cord and tassels, are some of\\nthem very pretty but one looks a long time for a bright\\nface among the other class and, when it is discovered,\\nthe owner appears like a maiden who was enchanted a\\nhundred years ago, and has not been released from the\\nspell, but is still doomed to wear the garments and the\\nornaments that should long ago have mouldered away\\nwith her ancestors.\\nThe Theresien Wiese was a city of Vanity Fair for\\ntwo weeks, every day crowded with a motley throng.\\nBooths, and even structures of some solidity, rose on it\\nas if by magic. The lottery-houses were set up early,\\nand, to the last, attracted crowds, who could not resist\\nthe tempting display of goods and trinkets, which might\\nbe won by investing six kreuzers in a bit of paper, which\\nmight, when unrolled, contain a number. These lotter-\\nies are all authorized some of them were for the bene-\\nfit of the agricultural society some were for the poor,\\nand others on individual account and they always\\nthrive for the German, above all others, loves to try his\\n,uck. There were streets of shanties, where various\\nthings were offered for sale besides cheese and sausages.\\nThere was a long line of booths, where images could be\\n^hot at with bird-guns and, when the shots were success-\\nful, the images went through astonishing revolutions\\nThere was a circus, in front of which some of the span*\\n{led performers always stood beating drums and postur,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "124 THS. PEASANTS AND THE KING.\\ning, ia order to entice in spectators. There were ha\\nfmppet-booths, before which all day stood gaping, d^\\nighted crowds, who roared with laughter whenever the\\nlittle frau beat her loutish husband about the head, and\\nset him to tend the baby, who continued to wail, not-\\nwithstandino; the man knocked its head ao-ainst the door-\\npost. There were the great beer-restaurants, with tem-\\nporary benches and tables, planted about with evergreens,\\nalways thronged with a noisy, jolly crowd. There were\\nthe fires, over which fresh fish were broiling on sticks\\nand, if you lingered, you saw the fish taken alive from\\ntubs of water standing by, dressed and spitted and broil-\\ning before the wiggle was out of their tails. There were\\nthe old women who mixed the flour and fried the brown\\ncakes before your eyes, or cooked the fragrant sausage,\\nand offered it piping hot.\\nAnd every restaurant and show had its band, brass or\\nstring, a fiill array of red-faced fellows tooting through\\nhorns, or a sorry quartet, the fat woman with the\\nharp, the lean man blowing himself out through the clari-\\nnet, the long-haired fellow with the flute, and the robust\\nand thick-necked fiddler. Everywhere there was music\\nthe air was full of the odor of cheese and cooking sau-\\nBase so that there was nothing; wanting to the most com-\\nplete enjoyment. The crowd surged round, jammed to-\\ngether, in the best possible humor. Those who could\\nnot sit at tables sat on the ground, with a link of an\\neatable I have already named in one hand, and a mug\\nof beer beside them. Toward evening, the ground was\\nstrewn with these gray quart mugs, which gave as per-\\nfect evidence of the battle of the day as the cannon-balls\\non the sand before Fort Fisher did of the contest there.\\nBesides this, for the amusement of the crowd, there is.\\nevery day, a wheelbarrow race, a sack race, a blindfold\\ncontest, or something of the sort, which turns out to be\\na very flat performance. But, all the time, the eating and\\nthe drinkino; go on, and the clatter and clink of it fill the\\nB: r so that the great object of the fair is not lost sight o\u00c2\u00a3", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE OCTOBER FEST. 125\\nMeantime, where is the agricultural fair and cattle^\\nihow You must know that we do these things differ-\\nently in Bavaria. On the fair-ground, there is very lit-\\ntle to be seen of the fair. There is an enclosure where\\nsteam-engines are smoking and puffing, and threshing-\\nmachines are making a clamor where some big church-\\nbells hang, and where there are a few stalls for horses\\nand cattle. But the competing horses and cattle aro\\nledbefore the judges elsewhere; the horses, for instance,\\n})y the royal stables in the city. I saw no such general\\nexhibition of domestic animals as you have at your fairs.\\nThe horses that took the prizes were of native stock, a\\nvery serviceable breed, excellent for carriage-horses, and\\nadmirable in the cavalry service. The bulls and cows\\nseemed also native and to the manor born, and were\\nworthy of little remark. The mechanical, vegetable,\\nand fruit exhibition was in the great glass palace, in the\\ncity, and was very creditable in the fruit department, in\\nthe show of grapes and pears especially. The products\\nof the dairy were less, though I saw one that I do not\\nrecollect ever to have seen in America, a landscape in\\nbutter. Enclosed in a case, it looked very much like a\\nwood-carving. There was a Swiss cottage, a milkmaid,\\nwith cows in the foreground there were trees, and in\\nthe rear rose rocky precipices, with chamois in the act\\nof skipping thereon. I should think something might be\\ndone in our country in this line of the fine arts cer-\\ntainly, some of the butter that is always being sold so\\ncheap at St. Albans, when it is high everywhere else,\\nmust be strong enough to warrant the attempt. As to\\nthe other departments of the fine arts in the glass palace,\\nI cannot give you a better idea of them than by saying\\nthat they were as well filled as the like ones in the\\nAmerican county fairs. There were machines for\\nthreshing, for straw-cutting, for apple-paring, and gene-\\n?ally such a display of implements as would give one a\\nfe,vorable idea of Bavarian agriculture. There was an\\ninteresting exhibition of live fish, great and small, of\\n11*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "126 THE PEASANTS AND THE KING.\\nnearly every sort, I should think, in Bavarian watera\\nThe show in the fire-department was so antiquated, that\\nI was convinced that the people of Munich never intend\\nto have any fires.\\nThe great day of the fete was Sunday, Oct. 5 for on\\nthat day the king went out to the fair-ground, and dis-\\ntributed the prizes to the owners of the best horses, and,\\nas they appeared to me, of the most ugly-colored bulls\u00c2\u00ab\\nThe city was literally crowded with peasants and coun-\\ntry people the churches were full all the morning with\\ndevout masses, which poured into the waiting beer-\\nhouses afterward with equal zeal. By twelve o clock,\\nthe city began to empty itself upon the Theresiea\\nmeadow and long before the time for the king to arrive\\ntwo o clock there were acres of people waiting lor\\nthe performance to begin. The terraced bank, of which\\nJ. have spoken, was taken possession of early, and held\\nby a solid mass of people while the fair-ground proper\\nwas packed with a swaying concourse, densest near the\\nroyal pavilion, which was erected immediately on the\\nrace-course, and opposite the bank.\\nAt one o clock the grand stand opposite to the royal\\none is taken possession of by a regiment band and by\\ninvited guests. All the space, except the race-course,\\nis, by this time, packed with people, who watch the red\\nand white gate at the head of the course with growing\\nimpatience. It opens to let in a regiment of infantry,\\nwhich marches in and takes position. It swings, every\\nnow and then, for a solitary horseman, who gallops down\\nthe line in all the pride of mounted civic dignity, to the\\ndisgust of the crowd or to let in a carriage, with some\\nover-dressed officer or splendid minister, who is entitled\\nto a place in the royal pavilion. It is a people s fete^\\nand the civic officers enjoy one day of conspicuoua\\nglory. Now a majestic person in gold lace is set down\\n9,nd now one in a scarlet coat, as beautiful as a flamingo.\\nThese driblets of splendor only feed the popular impa-\\ntience. Music is heard in the distance, and a processior", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "THE OCTOBER FEST. 127\\nW^ith colored banners is seen approaching from the nify\\nThat, like every thing else that is to come, stops beyond\\nthe closed gate and there it halts, ready to stream down\\nbefore our eyes in a variegated pageant. The time goes\\non the crowd gets denser, for there have been steady\\nrivers of people pouring into the grounds for more than\\nan hour. The military bands play in the long interval;\\nthe peasants jabber in unintelligible dialects; the high\\nfunctionaries on the royal stand are good enough to move\\naround, and let us see how brave and majestic they are.\\nAt last the firing of cannon announces the coming of\\nroyalty. There is a commotion in the vast crowd yonder,\\nthe eagerly-watched gates swing wide, and a well-mounted\\ncompany of cavalry dashes down the turf, in uniforms of\\nlight blue and gold. It is a citizen s company of butch-\\ners and bakers and candlestick-makers, which would do\\nno discredit to the regular army. Driving close after is\\na four-horse carriage with two of the king s ministers\\nand then, at a rapid pace, six coal-black horses in silver\\nharness, with mounted postilions, drawing a long, slen-\\nder, open carriage with one seat, in which ride the king\\nand his brother, Prince Otto, come down the way, and\\nare pulled up in front of the pavilion while the cannon\\nroars, the big bells ring, all the flags of Bavaria, Prussia,\\nand Austria, on innumerable poles, are blowing straight\\nout, the band plays God save the King, the people break\\ninto enthusiastic shouting, and the young king, throwing\\noft his cloak, rises and stands in his carriage for a\\nmoment, bowing right and left before he descends. He\\nwears to-day the simple uniform of the citizens company\\nwhich has escorted him, and is consequently more plainly\\nand neatly dressed than any one else on the platform, a\\niall (say six feet), slender, gallant-looking young fellow\\nof three and twenty, with an open face and a graceful\\nnaanner.\\nBut, when he has arrived, things again come to a stand\\nH,nd we wait for an hour, and watch the thickening of\\nUie clouds, while the king goes from this to that delio-hted", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "128 THE PEASANTS AND THE KING.\\nilgnitary on the stand and converses. At the end of\\nthis time, there is a movement. A white dog has got\\ninto the course, and runs up and down between the\\nwalls of people in terror, headed off by soldiers at\\neither side of the grand stand, and finally, becoming\\ndesperate, he makes a dive for the royal pavilion. The\\nconsternation is extreme. The people cheer the dog and\\nlaugh a white-handed official, in gold lace, and without\\nhis hat, rushes out to shoo the dog away, but is unsuc-\\ncessful for the animal dashes between his legs, and\\napproaches the royal and carpeted steps. More men of\\nrank run at him, and he is finally captured and borne\\naway and we all breathe freer that the danger to royalty\\nis averted. At one o clock six youths in white jackets,\\nwith clubs and coils of rope, had stationed themselves by\\nthe pavilion, but they did not go into action at this\\njuncture and I thought they rather enjoyed the activity\\nof the great men who kept off the dog.\\nAt length there was another stir and the king de-\\nscended from the rear of his pavilion, attended by his\\nministers, and moved about among the people, who made\\nway for him, and uncovered at his approach. He spoke\\nwith one and another, and strolled about as his fancy\\ntook him. I suppose this is called mingling with the\\ncommon people. After he had mingled about fifteen\\nminutes, he returned, and took his place on the steps in\\nfront of the pavilion; and the distribution of prizes\\nbegan. First the horses were led out and their owners,\\napproaching the king, received from his hands the diplo-\\nmas, and a flag from an attendant. Most of them were\\npeasants; and they exhibited no servility in receiving\\ntheir marks of distinction, but bowed to the king as\\n.hey would to any other man, and his majesty touched\\nhis cocked hat in return. Then came the prize-cattle,\\nmany of them led by women, who are as interested ag\\ntheir husbands in all farm matters. Every thing goes\\noff smoothly, except there is a momentary panic over a\\nffactious bull; who plunges into the crowd but the si:x", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "THE OCTOBER FEST. 129\\nHrhiite jackets are about him in an instant, and entangle\\ndim with their ropes.\\nThis over, the gates again open, and the gay caval-\\ncade that Las been so long in sight approaches. First\\na band of musicians in costumes of the Middle Ages;\\nand then a band of pages in the gayest apparel, bearing\\nf)ictured banners and flags of all colors, whose silken\\nustre would have been gorgeous in sunshine these\\nwore followed by mounted heralds with trumpets, and\\nafter them tvere led the running horses entered for the\\nrace. The banners go upon the royal stand, and group\\nthemselves picturesquely the heralds disap2)ear at the\\nother end of the list and almost immedia^ ly the horses,\\nridden by young jockeys in stunning colo\u00c2\u00bb i, come flying\\npast in a (general scramble. There are a ^ozen or more\\nhorses but, after the first round, the race lies between\\ntwo. The course is considerably over an English mile,\\nand they make four circuits so that the ra-^e is fully six\\nmiles, a very hard one. It was a run in a rain, how-\\never, which began when it did, and soon fcTced up the\\numbrellas. The vast crowd disappeared und ^r a shed of\\numbrellas, of all colors, black, green, red, blue and\\nthe effect was very singular, especially when it moved from\\nthe fleld there was then a Niagara of umbrellas. The\\nrace was soon over it is only a peasants race, after all\\nthe aristocratic rapes of the best horses tak place in\\nMay. It was over. The king s carriage wad brought\\nround, the people again shouted, the cannon roared, the\\nsix black horses reared and plunged, and away he\\nwent.\\nAfter all, says the artist, the King of Bavaria has\\nuot much power.\\nYou can see, returns a gentleman who speaks Eng-\\nlish, just how much he has it is a six-horse power.\\nOn other days there was horse-trotting, r lusic produc-\\ntion, and for several days prize-shooting. 7 he latter was\\nadmirably conducted the targets were laced at the\\n^ot of the bank and opposite, I should ti .nk not more", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "130 THE PEASANTS AND THE KING,\\nthan two hundred yards off, were shooting-houses, each\\nlivith a room for the register of the shots, and on each side\\nof him closets where the shooters stand. Signal-wires run\\nfrom these houses to the targets, where there are attend-\\nants who telegraph the effect of every shot. Each com\\npetitor has a little book and he shoots at ary booth he\\npleases, or at all, and has his shots registered. There\\nwas a continual fusillade for a couple of days but what\\nit all came to, I cannot tell. I can only say, that, if they\\nshoot as steadily as they drink beer, there is no other\\nRorps of shooters that can stand before them.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "INDIAN SUMMER.\\n\\\\lTE are all quiet along the Isar since the October\\nVV Fest since the young king has come back from\\nhis summer castle on the Starnberg See to live in hia\\ndingy palace since the opera has got into good work-\\ning order, and the regular indoor concerts at the ca/e s have\\nbegun. There is no lack of amusements, with balls,\\ntheatres, and the cheap concerts, vocal and instrumental.\\nI stepped into the West Ende Halle the other night,\\nhaving first surrendered twelve krcuzers to the money-\\nchanger at the entrance, double the usual fee, by the\\nway. It was large and well lighted, with a gallery all\\nround it and an orchestral platform at one end. The\\nfloor and gallery were filled with people of the most\\nrespectable class, who sat about little round tables, and\\ndrank beer. Every man was smoking a cigar and the\\natmosphere was of that degree of haziness that we asso-\\nciate with Indian summer at home so that throuo-h it\\nthe people in the gallery appeared like glorified objects\\nin a heathen Pantheon, and the orchestra like men inlay-\\ning in a dream. Yet nobody seemed to mind it and\\nthere was, inde^, a general air of social enjoyment and\\ngood feeling. Whether this good feeling was in process\\nof being produced by the twelve or twenty glasses of\\nbeer which it is not unusual for a German to drink\\nof an evening, I do not know. I do not drink much\\nbeer now, said a German acquaintance, not more\\nthan four or five glasses in an evening. This is indeed\\nmoderatio.\\\\, when we remember that sixteen glasses of\\n181", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "132 INDIAN SUMMER.\\nbeer is only two gallons. Tlie orchestra playing that\\nnight was Gungl s; and it performed, among other\\nthings, the whole of the celebrated Third (or Scotch)\\nSymphony o5 Mendelssohn in a manner that would be\\ngreatly to the credit of orchestras that play without the\\naid of either smoke or beer. Concerts of this sort, gen-\\nerally with more popular music and a considerable dash\\nof Wagner, in whom the Munichers believe, take place\\nevery night in several cafes while comic singing, some\\nof it exceedingly well done, can be heard in others.\\nSuch amusements and nothing can be more harm-\\nless are very cheap.\\nSpeaking of Indian summer, the only approach to it\\nI have seen was in the hazy atmosphere at the West\\nEnde Halle. October outdoors has been an almost\\ntotally disagreeable month, with the exception of some\\ndays, or rather parts of days, when we have seen the sun,\\nand experienced a mild atmosphere. At such times,\\nI have liked to sit down on one of the empty benches in\\nthe Hof Garden, where the leaves already half cover the\\nground, and the dropping horse-chestnuts keep up a\\npattering on them. Soon the fat woman who has a\\nfruit-stand at the gate is sure to come waddling along,\\nher beaming face making a sort of illumination in the\\nautumn scenery, and sit down near me. As soon as she\\ncomes, the little brown birds and the doves all fly that\\nway, and look up expectant at her. They all know her,\\nand expect the usual supply of bread-crumbs. Indeed,\\nI have seen her on a still Sunday morning, when I have\\nbeen sitting there waiting for the English ceremony of\\npraying for Queen Victoria and Albert Edward to begin\\nin the Odeon, sit for an hour, and cut up bread for her\\nlittle brown flock. She sits now knitting a red stocking,\\nthe picture of content one after another her old gossips\\npass that way, and stop a moment to exchange the chat\\nof the day or the policeman has his joke with her\\nand, when there is nobody else to converse with, she\\ntalks to the birds. A benevolent old soul, I am surQ", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "INDIAN SUMMER. 133\\nwho, in a New-England village, would be universally\\ncalled Aunty, and would lay all the rising generation\\nunder c bligation to her for doughnuts and sweet-cake.\\nAs she rises to go away, she scrapes together a half-\\ndozen shining chestnuts with her feet and, as she cannot\\npossibly stoop to pick them up, she motions to a boy\\nplaying near, and smiles so happily as the urchin gathers\\nfchciii and runs away without even a thank-ye.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "A TASTE OF ULTRAMONTANISM.\\niF that of wliich every German dreams, and so fevi\\nare ready to take any practical steps to attain,\\nGerman unity, ever comes, it must ride rough-shod\\nover the Romish clergy, for one thing. Of course there\\nare other obstacles. So long as beer is cheap, and songs\\nof the Fatherland are set to lilting strains, will these excel-\\nlent people Ho, ho, my brothers, and Hi, hi, my\\nbrothers, and wait for fate, in the shape of some com-\\npelling Bismarck, to drive them into any thing more than\\nthe brotherhood of brown mugs of beer and Wagner s\\nmysterious mu^ic of the future. I am not sure, by the\\nway, that the music of Richard Wagner is not highly\\ntypical of the present (in 1868) state of German unity,\\nan undefined longing which nobody exactly under-\\nstands. There are those who think they can discern\\nin his music the same revolutionary tendency which\\nplaced the composer on the right side of a Dresden bar-\\nricade in 1848, and who go so far as to believe that the\\nliberalism of the young King of Bavaria is not a little\\ndue to his passion for the disorganizing operas of this\\ntranscendental writer. Indeed, I am not sure that any\\nother people than Germans would not find in the repe-\\ntition of the five hours of the Meister-Sanger von\\nNtirnberg, which was given the other night at the Hof\\nTheatre, sufficient reason for revolution.\\nWell, what I set out to say was, that most Germans\\nwould like unity if they could be the unit. Each State\\nUrould like to be the centre of the consolidated system\\n134", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "A TASTE OF ULTRAMOXTANISM. 135\\n!ind thus it happens that every practical step toward\\npolitical unity meets a host of opponents at once. Whejv\\nAustria, or rather the house of Hapsburg, had a pre-\\nponderance in the Diet, and it seemed, under it, possible\\nto revive the past reality, or to realize the dream of a\\ngreat German empire, it was clearly seen that Austria\\nwas a tyranny that would crush out all liberties. And\\nnow that Prussia, with its vital Protestantism and free\\nschools, proposes to undertake the reconstruction of\\nGermany, and make a nation where there are now\\nonly the fragmentary possibilities of a great power, why,\\nPrussia is a military despot, whose subjects must be\\neither soldiers oi slaves, and the young emperor at\\nVienna is indeet^. another Joseph, filled with the most\\ntender solicitude for the welfare of the chosen German\\npeople.\\nBut to retuj n to the clergy. While the monasteries\\nand nunneries are going to the ground in superstition-\\nsatm: ated Spain while eager workmen are demolishing\\nthe last hiding-places of monkery, and letting the day-\\nlight into places that have well kept the frightful secrets\\nof thr ^e hundred years, and turning the ancient cloister\\ndemesne into public parks and pleasure-grounds, the\\nEiomish priesthood here, in free Bo-varia, seem to hnagine\\nthat they cannot only resist the progress of events, but\\nthat they can actually bring back the owlish twilight of\\nthe Middle Ages. The reactionavy party in Bavaria\\nhas, in some of the provinces, a strong majority; and its\\nsupporters and newspapers are behigerent and aggres-\\nsive. A few words about the politics of Bavaria will\\ngive you a clew to the general politics of the country.\\nThe reader of the little newspapers here in Munich\\nfinds evidence of at least three parties. There is first\\nthe radical. Its nembers sincerely desire a united Ger-\\nmany, and, of 20 arse, are friendly to Prussia, hate Napo-\\neon, have little confidence in the Hapsburgs, like to\\n\u00c2\u00bb*ead of uneasiness in Paris, and hail any movement that\\noverthrows tradition and the prescr .ptive righf of classes.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "136 A TASTE OF ULTRAMONTANISM.\\nIf its members are Catholic, they are very mildly so\\nif they are Protestant, they are not enough so to harm\\nthem and, in short, if their religious opinions are not\\nas deep as a well, they are certainly broader than a\\nchurch-door. They are the party of free inquiry, liberal\\nthought, and progress. Akin to them are what may be\\ncalled the conservative liberals, the majority of whom\\nmay be Catholics in profession, but are most likely\\nrationalists in fact and with this party the king natu-\\nrally affiliates, taking his music devoutly every Sunday\\nmorning in the AUerheiligenkirche, attached to the\\nResidenz, and gettino; his relig-ion out of Wagner for,\\nprogressive as the youthful king is, he cannot be sup-\\nposed to long for a unity which should wheel his throne\\noff into the limbo of phantoms. The conservative liberals,\\ntherefore, while laboring for thorough internal reforms,\\nlook with little delight on the increasmg strength of\\nPrussia, and sympathize with the present liberal tenden-\\ncies of Austria. Opposed to both these parties is the\\nultramontane, the head of which is the Romish hie-\\nrarchy, and the body of which is the inert mass of igno-\\nrant peasantry, over whom the influence of the clergy\\nseems little shaken by any of the modern moral earth-\\nquakes. Indeed, I doubt if any new ideas will ever pene-\\ntrate a class of peasants who still adhere to styles of\\ncostume that must have been ancient when the Turks\\nthreatened Vienna, which would be highly picturesque if\\nthey were not painfully ugly, and arrayed in which their\\npossessors walk about in the broad light of these latter\\ndays, with entire unconsciousness that they do not belong\\nto this age, and that their appearance is as much of an\\nanachronism as if the figures should step out of Holbein s\\npictm-es (which Heaven forbid), or the stone images\\ncome down from the portals of the cathedral, and walk\\nabout. The ultramontane party, which, so far as it is\\nan intelligent force in modern affairs, is the Romish\\nclergy, and nothing more, hears with aversion any hint\\nof German unity, listens with dread to the needle-guu\u00c2\u00bb", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "A FASTE OF ULTRAMONTANISM, 137\\nRt Sadowa, hates Prussia in proportion as it fears her,\\nftnd just now does not draw either with the Austrian\\nGovernment, whose liberal tendencies are exceedingly\\ndistasteful. It relies upon that great unenlightened\\nmass of Catholic people in Southern Germany and in\\nAustria proper, one of whose sins is certainly not scep-\\nticism. The practical fight now in Bavaria is on the\\nquestion of education the priests being resolved to keep\\nthe schools of the people in their own control, and the\\nliberal parties seeking to widen educational facilities and\\nadmit laymen to a share in the management of institu-\\ntions of learning. Now the school visitors must all be\\necclesiastics; and although their power is not to be\\ndreaded in the cities, where teachers, like other citizens,\\nare apt to be liberal, it gives them immense power in the\\nrural districts. The election of the Lower House of the\\nBavarian parliament, whose members have a six years\\ntenure of office, which takes place next spring, excites\\nuncommon interest for the leading issue will be that of\\neducation. The little local newspapers and every city\\nhas a small swarm of them, which are remarkable for the\\nabsence of news, and an abundance of advertisements\\nhave broken out into a style of personal controversy,\\nwhich, to put it mildly, makes me, an American, feel\\nquite at home. Both parties are very much in earnest,\\nand both speak with a freedom that is, in itself, a very\\nhopeful sign.\\nThe pretensions of the ultramontane clergy are, indeed,\\nremarkable enough to attract the attention of others\\nbesides the liberals of Bavaria. They assume an influence\\nand an importance in the ecclesiastical profession, or\\nrather an authority, equal to that ever asserted by the\\nChurch in its strongest days. Perhaps you will get an\\nidea of the height of this pretension if I translate a pas-\\nsage which the liberal journal here takes from a sermon\\npreached in the parish church of Ebersburg, in Ober-\\nUorfen, by a priest, Herr Kooperator Anton Haring, no\\nlonger ago than Aug. 16, 1868. It reads, With the\\n12*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "138 A TASTE OF ULTRAMONTANISM.\\npower of absolution, Christ has endued the priesthood\\nwith a might which is terrible to hell, and against which\\nLucifer himself cannot stand, a might which, indeed,\\nreaches over into eternity, where all other earthly pow-\\ners find their limit and end, a might, I say, which\\nis able to break the fetters which, for an eternity, were\\nforged through the commission of heavy sin. Yes, fur-\\nther, this power of the forgiveness of sins makes the\\npriest, in a certain measure, a second God; for God\\nalone naturally can forgive sins. And yet this is not the\\nhighest reach of the priestly might his power reaches\\nstill hiojher he compels God himself to serve him. How\\nso When the priest approaches the altar, in order to\\nbring there the holy mass-oifering, there, at that moment,\\nUfts himself up Jesus Christ, who sits at the right hand\\nof the Father, upon his throne, in order to be ready for\\nthe beck of his priests upon earth. And scarcely does\\nthe priest begin the words of consecration, than there\\nChrist already hovers, surrounded by the heavenly host,\\ncome down from heaven to earth, and to the altar of\\nsacrifice, and changes, upon the words of the priest, the\\nbread and wine into his holy flesh and blood, and per-\\nmits himself then to be taken up and to lie in the hands\\nof the priest, even though the priest is the most sinful\\nand the most unworthy. Further, his power surpasses\\nhat of the highest archangels, and of the Queen of\\nHeaven. Right did the holy Franciscus say, If I\\nshould meet a priest and an angel at the same time, T\\nshould salute the priest first, and then the angel because\\nthe priest is possessed of far higher might and holiness\\nthan the angel.\\nThe radical journal calls this ^ultramontane blas-\\nphemy, and, the day after quoting it, adds a charge\\nhat naust be still more annoying to the Herr Kooporatoi\\nHaring than that of blasphemy it accuses him of pla-\\ngiarism and, to substantiate the charge, quotes almost\\nthe very same language from a sermon preached in 1785.\\n\\\\xi this ^s boldly claimed that; in heayen, on earth, or", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "A TASTE OF ULTRAMONTANISM. 139\\nnn ier the earth, there is nothing mightier than a priest,\\nexcept God and, to be exact, God himself must obej\\nthe priest in the mass. And then, in words which 1\\ndo not care to translate, the priest is made greater thau\\nthe Virgin Mary, because Christ was only born of the\\nVirgin once, while the priest with five words, as often\\nand wherever he will, can bring forth the Saviour of tha\\nworld. So to-day keeps firm hold of the traditions of\\na hundred years ago, and ultramontanism wisely de-\\nfends the last citadel where the Middle-Age super-\\nstition makes a stand, the popular veneration for the\\nclergy.\\nAnd the clergy take good care to keep up the pomps\\nand shows even here in sceptical Munich. It was my\\ninestimable privilege the other morning it was All-\\nSaints Day to see the archbishop in the old Frauen-\\nkirche, the ancient cathedral, where hang tattered ban-\\nners that were captured from the Turks three centuries\\nago, to see him seated in the choir, overlooked by\\nsaints and apostles carved in wood by some forgotten\\nartist of the fifteenth century. I supposed he was at\\nleast an archbishop, from the retinue of priests who\\nattended and served him, and also from his great size.\\nWhen he sat down, it required a dignitary of considerable\\nrank to put on his hat and, when he arose to speak a few\\nprecious words, the eifect was visible a good many yards\\nfrom where he stood. At the close of the service he\\nwent in great state down the centre aisle, preceded by\\nthe gorgeous beadle a character that is always awe-\\ninspiring to me in these churches, being a cross between\\na magnificent drum-major and a verger and two per-\\nsons in livery, and followed by a train of splendidly-\\nattired priests, six of whom bore up his long train of\\npurple silk. The whole cortege was resplendent in\\n3mbroidery and ermine and as the great man swept\\nout of my sight, and was carried on a priestly wave into\\nids shining carriage, and the noble footman jumped up\\ntehind, and he rolled away to his dinner, I stood l i5an-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "I40 A lASiE OF ULTRAMONTANISM.\\ning against a pillar, and reflected if it could be possible\\nthat that religion could be any thing but genuine which\\nhad so much genuine ermine. And the organ-notes,\\nrolling down the arches, seemed to me to have a very\\noltramoutane sound.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "CHANGING QUARTERS.\\nPERHAPS it may not interest you to know how we\\nmoved, that is, changed our apartments. I did not\\nsee it mentioned in the cable despatches, and it may not be\\ngenerally known, even in Germany but, then, the cable\\nIS so occupied with relating how his Serenity this, and his\\nHio-hness that, and her Loftiness the other one, went out\\ndoors and came in again, owing to a slight superfluity ot\\nthe liquid element in the atmosphere, that it has no time\\nto notice the real movements of the people. And yet,\\nso dry are some of these little German newspapers ot\\nnews, that it is refreshing to read, now and then, that the\\nkincr, on Sunday, walked out with the Duke oi Hesse\\nafter dinner (one would like to know if tTiey also had\\nsauer-kraut and sausage), and that his prospective mother-\\nin-law, the Empress of Russia, who was here the other\\nday, on her way home from Como, where she was nearly\\ndrowned out by the inundation, sat for an hour on bun-\\nday night, after the opera, in the winter garden of the\\npalace^ enjoying the most easy family intercourse.\\nBut about moving. Let me tell you that to change\\nquarters in the face of a Munich winter, which arrives\\nhere the 1st of November, is like changing front to the\\nenemv just before a battle and, if we had perished m the\\nattempt, it might have been put upon our monuments, as\\nit is upon the out-of-cannon-cast obelisk in the Karolina\\nPlatz, erected to the memory of the thirty thousand Ba-\\nvarian soldiof s who fell in the disastrous Russian winter\\nsampaigu of Napoleon, fighting against all the interests\\n141", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "142 CHANGING QUARTERS.\\nof Germany, they, too, died for their Fatherhmd.*\\nBavaria happened also to fight on the wrong side at Sa-\\ndowa, and I suppose that those who fell there also died\\nfor Fatherland it is a way the Germans have- of doing,\\nand they mean nothing serious by it. But, as I was say-\\ning, to change quarters here as late as November is a\\nlittle difficult, for the wise ones seek to get housed for\\nthe winter by October they select the sunny apartments,\\nget ou the double-windows, and store up wood. The\\nplants are tied up in the gardens, the fountains are cov-\\nered over, and the inhabitants go about in furs and the\\nheaviest winter clothing long before we should think of\\ndoing so at home. And they are wise the snow comes\\nearly, and, besides, a cruel fog, cold as the grave and\\npenetrating as remorse, comes down out of the near\\nTyrol. One morning early in November, I looked out\\nof the window to find snow falling, and the ground cov-\\nered with it. There was dampness and frost enough in\\nthe air to make it cling to all the tree-twigs, and to take\\nfantastic shapes on all the queer roofs and the slenderest\\npinnacles and most delicate architectural ornamenta-\\ntions. The city spires had a mysterious appearance in\\nthe gray haze and above all, the round-topped towers of\\nthe old Frauen Kircke, frosted with a little snow, loomed\\nup more grandly than ever. When I went around to\\nthe Hof Garden, where I late had sat in the sun, and\\nheard the brown horse-chestnuts drop on the leaves, the\\nbenches were now full of snow, and the fat and friendly\\n(ruit-woman at the srate had retired behind glass windows\\ninto a little shop, which she might well warm by her\\nown person, if she radiated heat as readily as she used\\nto absorb it on the warm autumn days, when I have\\nmarked her knitting in the sunshine.\\nBut we are not moving. The first step we took was\\nto advertise our wants in the Neueste Nachrichten,\\nLatest News newspaper. We desired, if possible,\\nadmission into some respectable German family, where\\nve should be forced to speak German, and in which out", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "CHANGING QUARTERS, 14J\\nBociety, if I may so express it, would be some compensa-\\ntion for our bad grammar. We wished also to live in\\nthe cent ral part of the city, in short, in the immediate\\nneighborhood of all the objects of interest (which are\\nhere very much scattered), and to have pleasant rooms.\\nIn Dresden, where the people are not so rich as in Mu\\nnich, and where different customs prevail, it is custom-\\nary for the best people, I mean the families of universit}i\\nprofessors, for instance, to take in foreigners, and give\\nthem tolerable food and a liberal education. Here it is\\notherwise. Nearly all families occupy one floor of a\\nbuilding, renting just rooms enough for the family, so\\nthat their apartments are not elastic enough to take in\\nstrangers, even if they desire to do so. And generally\\nthey do not. Munich society is perhaps chargeable with\\nbeing a little stiff and exclusive. Well, we advertised\\nin the Neueste Nachrichten. This is the liberal paper\\nof Munich. It is a poorly-printed, black-looking daily\\nsheet, folded in octavo size, and containing anywhere\\nfrom sixteen to thirty-four pages, more or less, as it hap-\\npens to have advertisements. It sometimes will not have\\nmore than two or three pages of reading matter. There\\nwill be a scrap or two of local news, the brief telegrams\\ntaken from the official paper of the day before, a bit or\\ntwo of other news, and perhaps a short and slashing edi-\\ntorial on the ultramontane party. The advantage of\\nprinting and folding it in such small leaves is, that the\\nsize can be varied according to the demands of adver-\\ntisements or news (if the German papers ever find out\\nwhat that is) so that the publisher is always giving,\\nevery day, just what it pays to give that day and the\\nreader has his regular quantity of reading matter, and\\ndoes not have to pay for advertising space, which in\\njournals of unchangeable form cannot always be used\\nprofitably. This little journal was started something\\nlike twenty years ago. It probably spends little for news,\\nbas only one or, at most, two editors, is crowded with\\nftdvertisements, which are inserted che\u00c2\u00a3tp, and costs, de-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "144 CHANGING QUARTERS.\\nUvered, a little over six francs a year. It circulates in\\nthe city some thirty-five thousand. There is anothei\\nlittle paper here of the same size, but not so many leaves,\\ncalled The Daily Advertiser, with nothing but adver-\\ntisements, principally of theatres, concerts, and the daily\\nsights, and one page devoted to some prodigious yarn,\\ngenerally concerning America, of which country its read-\\ners must get the most extraordinary and frightful impres-\\nsion. The Nachrichten made the fortune of its first\\nowner, who built himself a fine house out of it, and\\nretired to enjoy his wealth. It was recently sold for one\\nhundred thousand guldens and I can see that it is piling\\nup another fortune for its present owner. The Germans,\\nwho herein show their good sense and the high state of\\ncivilization to which they have reached, are very free\\nadvertisers, going to the newspapers with all their wants,\\nand finding in them that aid which all interests and all\\nsorts of people, from kaiser to kerl, are compelled, in\\nthese days, to seek in the daily journal. Every German\\ntown of any size has three or four of these little journals\\nof flying leaves, which are excellent papers in every\\nrespect, except that they look like badly-printed hand-\\nbills, and have very little news and no editorials worth\\nspeaking of. An exception to these in Bavaria is the\\nAllgemeine Zeitung of Augsburg, which is old and\\nimmensely respectable, and is perhaps, for extent of cor-\\nrespondence and splendidly-written editorials on a great\\nvariety of topics, excelled by no journal in Europe\\nexcept The London Times. It gives out two editions\\ndaily, the evening one about the size of The New- York\\nNation and it has all the telegraphic news. It is\\nabsurdly old-grannyish, and is malevolent in its pre-\\ntended conservatism and impartiality. Yet it circulates\\nover forty thousand copies, and goes all over Germany.\\nBut were we not saying something about moving?\\nThe truth is, that the best German families did not re*\\nBpond to our appeal with that alacrity which we had nd\\nright te expect, and did not exhibit that anxiety for our", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "CHANGING QUARTERS. 145\\nlociety which would have been such a pleasant evidence\\nof their appreciation of the honor done to the royal city\\nof Munich by the selection of it as a residence during\\nthe most disagreeable months of the year by the adver-\\ntising undersigned. Even the young king, whose ap-\\nproaching marriage to the Russian princess, one would\\nthink, might soften his heart, did nothing to win our\\nregard, or to show that he appreciated our residence\\nnear his court, and, so far as I know, never read with\\nany sort of attention our advertisement, which was com-\\nposed with as much care as Goethe s Faust, and prob-\\nably with the use of more dictionaries. And this, when\\nhe has an extraordinary large B-esidenz, to say nothing\\nabout other outlying palaces and comfortable places to\\nlive in, in which I know there are scores of elegantly-\\nfurnished apartments, which stand idle almost the year\\nround, and might as well be let to appreciative strangers,\\nwho would accustom the rather washy and fierce fres-\\ncos on the walls to be stared at. I might have selected\\nrooms, say on the court which looks on the exquisite\\nbronze fountain, Perseus with the head of Medusa, a\\ncopy of the one in Florence by Benvenuto Cellini, where\\nwe could have a southern exposure. Or we might, so it\\nwould seem, have had rooms by the winter garden,\\nwhere tropical plants rejoice in perennial summer, and\\nblossom and bear fruit while a northern winter rage\\nwithout. Yet the king did not see it by those lamps\\nand I looked in vain on the gates of the Residenz for\\nthe notice so frequently seen on other houses, of apart-\\nments to let. And yet we had responses. The day-\\nafter the announcement appeared, our bell rang per-\\npetually and we had as many letters as if we had\\nadvertised for wives innumerable. The German notes\\npoured in upon us in a flood each one of them contain-\\ning an offer tempting enough to beguile an angel out of\\nparadise, at least, according to our translation they\\nproffered us chambers that were positively overheated\\nby the flaming sun (which, 1 can take my oath, only\\n13", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "146 CHANGING QUARTERS.\\nrentures a few feet above the horizon at this season),\\n\\\\;vhich were friendly in appearance, splendidly furnished,\\nand near to every desh-able thing, and in which, usually,\\nsome American family had long resided, and experienced\\na content and happiness not to be felt out of Germany.\\nI spent some days in calling upon the worthy frauen\\nwho made these alluring offers. The visits were full of\\nprofit to the student of human nature, but profitless\\notherwise. I was ushered into low, dark chambers, small\\nand dreary, looking towards the sunless north, which\\nI was assured were delightful and even elegant. I was\\ntaken up to the top of tall houses, through a smell of\\ncabbage that was appalling, to find empty and dreary\\nrooms, from which I fled in fright. We were visited by\\nso many people who had chambers to rent, that we were\\nimpressed with the idea that all Munich was to let and\\nyet, when we visited the places ofiered, we found they\\nwere only to be let alone. One of the frauen who did\\nus the honor to call, also wrote a note, and enclosed\\na letter that she had just received from an American\\ngentleman (I make no secret of it that he came from\\nHartford), in which were many kindly expressions for\\nher welfare, and thanks for the aid he had received in\\nhis s udy of German and yet I think her chambers are\\nthe most uninviting in the entire city. There were\\npeople who were willing to teach us German, without\\nrooms or board or to lodge us without giving us German\\nor food or to feed us, and let us starve intellectually, and\\nlodge where we could.\\nBut all things have an end, and so did our hunt for\\nlodgings. I chanced one day in my walk to find, with no\\nhelp from the advertisement, very nearly what we desired,\\ncheerfiil rooms in a pleasant neighborhood, where\\nthe sun comes when it comes out at all, and opposite the\\nGlass Palace, through which the sun streams in the after-\\nnoon with a certain splendor, and almost next door to\\nthe residence and laboratory of the famous chemist,\\nProf. Liebig so that we can have our feelings analyzeo", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "CHANGING QLARTERS, 147\\nwhenever it is desirable. When we had set up our\\nhousehold gods, and a fire was kindled in the tall white\\nporcelain family monnment, that is called here a stove,\\nand which, by the way, is much more agreeable than\\nyour hideous, black, and air-scorching cast-iron stoves,\\nand seen that the feather-beds under which we were\\nexpected to lie were thick enough to roast the half of\\nthe body, and short enough to let the other half freeze,\\nwe determined to try for a season the regular German\\ncookery, our table heretofore having been served with\\nfood cooked in the English style with only a slight Ger-\\nman flavor. A week of the experiment was quite\\nenough. I do not mean to say that the viands served\\nus were not good, only that we could not make up our\\nminds to eat them. The Germans eat a great deal of\\nmeat and we were obliged to take meat when we pre-\\nferred vegetables. Now, when a deep dish is set before\\nyou wherein are chunks of pork reposing on stewed\\npotatoes, and another wherein a fathomless depth of\\nsauer-kraut supports coils of boiled sausage, which, con-\\nsidering that you are a mortal and responsible being,\\nand have a stomach, will you choose Here in Munich,\\nnearly all the bread is filled with anise or caraway seed\\nit is possible to get, however, the best wheat bread we\\nhave eaten in Europe, and we usually have it but one\\nmust maintain a constant vigilance against the inroads\\nof the fragrant seeds. Imagine, then, our despair, when\\none day the potato, the one vegetable we had ahvays\\neaten with perfect confidence, appeared stewed with\\ncaraway-seeds. This was too much for American human\\nnature, constituted as it is. Yet the dish that finally\\nsent us back to our ordinary and excellent way of living\\nis one for which I have no name. It may have been\\ncompounded at different times, have been the result of\\nmany tastes or distastes but there was, after all, a unity\\nn it that marked it as the composition of one mastef\\nartist; there wa\u00c2\u00bb an unspeakable harmony in all its\\nflavors and apparently unun table substances. Itlook\u00c2\u00abid", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "148 CHANGING QUARTERS.\\nlike a terrapin soup, but it was not. Every dive of the\\nspoon into its dark liquid brought up a different object,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\na junk of unmistakable pork, meat of the color of roast\\nhare, what seemed to be the neck of a goose, some-\\nthing in strings that resembled the rags of a silk dress,\\nshreds of cabbage, and what I am quite willing to take\\nmy oath was a bit of Astrachan fur. If Prof. Liebig\\nwishes to add to his reputation, he could do so by analyz-\\ning this dish, and publishing the result to the world.\\nAnd, while we are speaking of eating, it may be in-\\nferred that the Germans are good eaters and although\\nthey do not begin early, seldom taking much more than\\na cup of coiFee before noon, they make it up by very sub-\\nstantial dinners and suppers. To say nothing of the\\nextraordinary dishes of meats which the restaurants\\nserve at night, the black-bread and odorous cheese and\\nbeer which the men take on board in the course of an\\nevening would soon wear out a cast-iron stomach in\\nAmerica and yet I ought to remember the deadly pie\\nand the corroding whiskey of my native land. The res-\\ntaurant life of the people is, of course, different from\\ntheir home life, and perhaps an evening entertainment\\nhere is no more formidable than one in America, but it\\nis different. Let me give you the outlines of a supper\\nto which we were invited the other night it certainly\\ncannot hurt you to read about it. We sat down at eight.\\nThere were first courses of three sorts of cold meat,\\naccompanied with two sorts of salad the one, a compo-\\nsite, with a potato basis, of all imaginable things that\\nare eaten. Beer and bread were unlimited. There was\\nthen roast hare, with some supporting dish, followed by\\njellies of various sorts, and ornamented plates of some-\\nthing that seemed unable to decide whether it would be\\njelly or cream and then came assorted cake and the\\nwhite wine of the Rhine and the red of Hungary. We\\nwere then surprised with a dish of fried eels, with a\\ntauce. Then came cheese and, to crown all, enormoua\\ntriumphal-looking loaves of cake works of art in appean", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "CHANGING QUARTERS. 149\\nan(5e, and delicious to the taste. We sat at the table till\\ntwelve o clock but you must not imagine that every-\\nbody sat still all the time, or that, appearances to the\\ncontrary notwithstanding, the principal object of the\\nentertainment was eating. The songs that were sung\\nin Hungarian as well as German, the poems that were\\nrecited, the burlesques of actors and acting, the imita-\\ntions that were inimitable, the take-off of table-tipping\\nand of prominent musicians, the wit and constant flow\\nof fun, as constant as the good-humor and free hospi-\\ntality, the unconstrained ease of the whole evening,\\nthese things made the real supper which one remembers\\nwhen the grosser meal has vanished, as all substantial\\nthings do vanish.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS TIME.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MUSIC.\\nyon a month Munich has been preparing for Christ-\\nmas. The shop-windows have bad a holiday look\\n1 December. I see one every day in which are dis-\\nayed all the varieties of fruits, vegetables, and confec-\\ntionery possible to be desired for a feast, done in wax,\\na most dismal exhibition, and calculated to make the\\nadjoining window, which has a little fountain and some\\ngreen plants waving amidst enormous pendent sausages\\nand pigs heads and various disagreeable hashes of\\npressed meat, positively enticing. And yet there are\\nsome vegetables here that I should prefer to have in wax,\\nfor instance, sauer-kraut. The toy windows are\\nworthy of study, and next to them the bakers A favor-\\nite toy of the season is a little crib, with the Holy Child,\\nin sugar or wax, lying in it in the most uncomfortable\\nattitude. Babies here are strapped upon pillows, or\\nbetween pillows, and so tied up and wound up that they\\ncannot move a muscle, except, perhaps, the tongue and\\nso, exactly like little mummies, they are carried about\\nthe street by the nurses, poor little things, packed away\\nso, even in the heat of summer, their little faces looking\\nout of the down in a most pitiful fashion. The popular\\ntoy is a representation, in sugar or wax, of this period\\nof life. Generally the toy represents twins, so swathed\\nand bound and, not infrequently, the bold conception\\ni)f the artist carries the point of the humor so fiar as to\\nhitroduce triplets, thus sporting with the most dreadfuj\\npossibilities of life.\\n150", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS TIME. MUSIC. 151\\nThe German bakers are very ingenious and if they\\ncould be convinced of this great error, that because\\nthings are good separately, they must be good in com-\\nbination, the produce of their ovens would be much more\\neatable. As it is, they make delicious cake, and of end-\\nless variety but they also offer us conglomerate forma-\\ntions that may have a scientific value, but are utterly\\nuseless to a stomach not trained in Germany. Of this\\nsort, for the most part, is the famous Lebkuchen, a sort\\nof gingerbread manufactured in Niirnberg, and sent all\\nover Germany age does not [seem to] impair, nor\\ncustom stale its infinite variety. It is very different\\nfrom our simple cake of that name, although it is usually\\nbaked in flat cards. It may contain nuts or fruit, and is\\nspoiled by a flavor of conflicting; spices. I should think\\nit might be sold by the curd, it is piled up in such quan-\\ntities and, as it grows old and is much handled, it ac-\\nquires that brown, not to say dirty, familiar look, which\\nmay, for aught I know, be one of its chief recommenda-\\ntions. The cake, however, which prevails at this season\\nof the year comes from the Tyrol and, as the holidays\\napproach, it is literally piled up on the fruit-stands. It\\nIS called Klatzenbrod, and is not a bread at all, but an\\namalgamation of fruits and spices. It is made up into\\nsmall round or oblong forms and the top is ornamented,\\nm various patterns, with split almond meats. The color\\nis a faded black, as if it had been left for some time in\\na country store and the weight is just about that of pig-\\niron. I had formed a strong desire, mingled with dread,\\nto taste it, which I was not likely to gratify, one gets\\nBO tired of such experiments after a time, when a friend\\n,^ent us a ball of it. There was no occasion to call in\\nProf. Liebig to analyze the substance it is a plain case.\\nThe black mass contains, cut up and pressed together,\\ntigs, citron, oranges, raisins, dates, various kinds of nuts,\\nunnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and I know not what other\\ngpices, together with the inevitable anise and caraway\\nseeds. It would make an excellent cannon-ball, and", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "152 CHRISTMAS TIME. MUSIC.\\nwould be specially fatal if it hit an enemy in tlie stomach.\\nThese seeds invade all dishes. The cooks seem pos-\\nsessed of one of the rules of whist, in case of doubt,\\nplay a trump in case of doubt, they always put in\\nanise-seed. It is sprinkled profusely in the blackest rye\\nbread, it gets into all the vegetables, and even into the\\nholiday cakes.\\nThe extensive Maximilian Platz has suddenly grown\\nup into booths and shanties, and looks very much like a\\ntemporary Western village. There are shops for the\\nBale of Christmas articles, toys, cakes, and gimcracks;\\nand there are, besides, places of amusement, if one of the\\nBorry menageries of sick beasts with their hair half worn\\noff can be so classed. One portion of the platz is now\\na lively and picturesque forest of evergreens, an exten-\\nsive thicket of large and small trees, many of them\\ntrimmed with colored and gilt strips of paper. I meet\\nin every street persons lugging home their little trees\\nfor it must be a very poor household that cannot have its\\nChristmas-tree, on which are hung the scanty store of\\ncandy, nuts, and fruit, and the simple toys that the\\nneedy people will pinch themselves otherwise to obtain.\\nAt this season, usually, the churches get up some\\nrepresentations for the children, the stable at Bethle-\\nhem, with the figures of the Virgin and Child, the wise\\nmen, and the oxen standing by. At least, the churches\\nmust be put in spic-and-span order. I confess that I\\nlike to stray into these edifices, some of them gaudy\\nenough when they are, so to speak, off duty, when the\\nchoir is deserted, and there is only here and there a\\nsolitary worshipper at his prayers unless, indeed, as it\\nsometimes happens, when I fancy myself quite alone, I\\ncome by chance upon a hundred people, in some remote\\ncorner before a side chapel, where mass is going on, but\\nBO quietly that the sense of solitude in the church is not\\ndisturbed. Sometimes, when the place is left entirely to\\nmyself, and the servants who are putting it to rights\\nand, as it were, shifting the scenes, I get a glimpse oi", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS TIME.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MUSIC, 153\\n(lie reality of all the pomp and parade of the services.\\nAt first I may be a little shocked with the familiar man-\\nner in which tue images and statues and the gilded para-\\nphernalia are treated, very different from the stately\\nceremony of the morning, when the priests are at the\\naltar, the choir is in the organ-loft, and the people crowd\\nnave and aisles. Then every thing is sanctified and\\ninviolate. Now, aa I loiter here, the old woman sweeps\\nand dusts about as if she were in an ordinary crockei y\\nstore: the sacred things are handled without gloves.\\nAnd, lo 1 an unclerical servant, in his shirt-sleeves,\\nclimbs up to the altar, and, taking down the silver-gilded\\ncherubs, holds them, head down, by one fat foot, while\\nlie wipes them off with a damp cloth. To think of sub-\\nmitting a holy cherub to the indignity of a damp cloth\\nOne could never say too much about the music here.\\nI do not mean that of the regimental bands, or the or-\\nchestras in every hall and beer-garden, or that in the\\nchurches on Sundays, both orchestral and vocal. Nearly\\nevery day, at half-past eleven, there is a parade by the\\nKesidenz, and another on the Marian Platz; and at\\neach the bands play for half an hour. In the Loggie by\\nthe palace the music-stands can always be set out, and\\nthey are used in the platz when it does not storm and\\nthe bands play choice overtures and selections from the\\noperas in fine style. The bands are always preceded\\nand followed by a great crowd as they march through\\nthe streets, people who seem to live only for this half\\nhour in the day, and whom no mud or snow can deter\\nfrom keeping up with the music. It is a little gleam of\\ncomfort in the day for the most wearied portion of the\\ncommunity I mean those who have nothing to do.\\nBut the music of which I speak is that of the con-\\nservatoire and opera. The Hof Theatre, opera, and con-\\nservatoire are all under one royal direction. The latter\\nhas been recently re-organized with a new director, in\\naccordance with the Wagner notions somewhat. The\\nvouug king is cracked about Wagner, and appears to", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "154 CHRISTMAS TIME. MUSIC.\\ncare little for otlier music he brin2;s out his operas at\\ngreat expense, and it is the fashion here to like Wagner\\nwhether he is understood or not. The opera of the\\nMeister-Sanger von Nurnberg, which was brought out\\nlast summer, occupied over five hours in the representa-\\ntion, which is unbearable to the Germans, who go to the\\nopera at six o clock or half-past, and expect to be at\\nhome before ten. His latest opera, which has not yet\\nbeen produced, is founded on the Niebelungen Lied, and\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0will take three evenings in the representation, which is\\nalmost as bad as a Chinese play. The present director\\nof the conservatoire and opera, a Prussian, Herr von\\nBulow, is a friend of Wagner. There are formed here\\nin town two parties, the Wagner and the conservative,\\nthe new and the old, the modern and classical only the\\nWagnerites do not admit that their admiration of Beet-\\nhoven and the older composers is less than that of\\nthe others, and so for this reason Bulow has given us\\nmore music of Beethoven than of any other composer.\\nOne thing is certain, that the royal orchestra is trained\\nto a high state of perfection its rendition of the grand\\noperas and its weekly concerts in the Odeon cannot\\neasily be surpassed. The singers are not equal to the\\norchestra, for Berlin and Vienna offer greater induce-\\nments but there are people here who regard this orches-\\ntra as superlative. They say that the best orchestras in\\nthe world are in Germany that the best in Germany is\\nin Munich and, therefore, you can see the inevitable\\ndeduction. We have another parallel syllogism. The\\ngreatest pianist in the world is Liszt but then Herr\\nBulow is actually a better performer than Liszt there-\\nfore you see again to what you must come. At any rate,\\nwe are quite satisfied in this provincial capital and, if\\nthere is anywhere better music, we don t know it. Bu-\\nlow s orchestra is not very large, there are less than\\neighty pieces, but it is so handled and drilled, that\\nwhen we hear it give one of the symphonies of Beetho*\\nren or Mendelssohn, there is little left to be desired", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS TIME.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MUSIC. 155\\nBulow is a wonderful conductor, a little man, all nerve\\nand fire, and lie seems to inspire every instrument. It\\nis worth, something to see him lead an orchestra his\\nbaton is magical head, arms, and the whole body are\\nin motion he knows every note of the compositions\\nand the precision with which he evokes a solitary note\\nout of a distant instrument with a jerk of his rod, or\\nbrings a wail from the concurring violins, like the moan-\\ning of a pine forest in winter, with a sweep of his arm, is\\nmost masterly. About the platform of the Odeon are\\nthe marble busts of the great composers and, while the\\norchestra is giving some of Beethoven s masterpieces, 1\\nlike to fix my eyes on his serious and genius-full face,\\nwhich seems cognizant of all that is passing, and believe\\nthat he has a posthumous satisfaction in the interpreta-\\ntion of his great thoughts.\\nThe manasers of the conservatoire also give vocal con-\\ncerts, and there are, besides, quartet soirees; so that\\nthere are few evenings without some attraction. The\\nopera alternates with the theatre two or three times a\\nweek. The singers are, perhaps, not known in Paris\\nand London, but some of them are not unworthy to be.\\nThere is the barytone, Herr Kindermann, who now, at\\nthe age of sixty-five, has a superb voice and manner, and\\nhas had few superiors in his time on the German stage.\\nThere is Frau Dietz, at forty-five, the best of actresses,\\nand with a still fresh and lovely voice. There is Herr\\nNachbar, a tenor, who has a future Fraulein Stehle, a\\nboprano, young and with an uncommon voice, who enjoys\\na large salary, and was the favorite until another soprano,\\nthe Malinger, came and turned the heads of king and\\nopera habitues. The resources of the Academy are, how-\\nover, tolerably large and the practice of pensioning for\\nlife the singers enables them to keep always a tolerable\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2company. This habit of pensioning officials, as well as\\nmusicians and poets, is very agreeable to the Germans.\\nA gentleman the otheir day, who expressed great surprise\\nlitt the smailuess of the salary of our President, said, that,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "156 CHRISTMAS TIME.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 MUSIC.\\nof course, Andrew Johnson would receive a pension when\\nhe retired from office. I could not explain to him ho w\\ncomical the idea was to me; but when I think of the\\nAmerican people pensioning Andrew Johnson, well,\\nlike the fictitious Yankee in Mugby Junction, I lalf,\\nI du.\\nThere is some fashion, in a fudgy, quaint way, here in\\nMunich but it is not exhibited in dress for the opera.\\nPeople go and it is presumed the music is the attrac-\\ntion in ordinary apparel. They save all their dress\\nparade for the concerts and the hall of the Odeon is as\\nbrilliant as provincial taste can make it in toilet. The\\nladies also go to operas and concerts unattended by gen-\\ntlemen, and are brought, and fetched away, by their ser-\\nvants. There is a freedom and simplicity about this\\nwhich I quite like and, besides, it leaves their husbands\\nand brothers at liberty to spend a congenial evening in\\nthe cafes., beer-gardens, and clubs. But there is always\\na heavy fringe of young officers and gallants both at\\nopera and concert, standing in the outside passages. It\\nIs cheaper to stand, and one can hear quite as well, and\\niee more.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "LOOKING FOR WARM\\nWEATHER.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES.\\nAT all events, saith the best authority, pray that\\nyour flight be not in winter and it might have\\nadded, don t go south if you desire warm weather. In\\nJanuary, 1869, 1 had a little experience of hunting after\\ngenial skies and I will give you the benefit of it in some\\nfree running notes on my journey from Munich to\\nNaples.\\nIt was the middle of January, at eleven o clock at\\nnight, that we left Munich, on a mixed railway train,\\nchoosing that time, and the slowest of slow trains, that\\nwe might make the famous Brenner Pass by daylight. It\\nwas no easy matter, at last, to pull up from the dear old\\ncity in which we had become so firmly planted, and to\\nleave the German friends who made the place like home\\nto us. One gets to love Germany and the Germans as\\nhe does no other country and people in Europe. There\\nhas been something so simple, honest, genuine, in our\\nMunich life, that we look back to it with longing eyes\\nfrom this land of fancy, of hand-organ music and squalid\\nsplendor. I presume the streets are yet half the day hid\\nin a mountain fog but I know the superb military bands\\nare still playing at noon in the old Marian Platz and in\\nthe Loggie by the Residenz that at halt-past six in the\\nevening our friends are quietly stepping in to hear the\\nopera at the Hof Theatre, where everybody goes to_ hear\\nthe music, and nobody for display, and that they will be\\nat home before half-past nine, and have despatched the\\nservant for the mugs of baming beer I know that they\\n169", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "l6o FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES.\\nstill hear every week the choice conservatoire orchestral\\nconcerts in the Odeon and, alas that experience should\\nforce me to think of it I I have no doubt that they sip,\\n^-w cj morning, coffee which is as much superior to that\\nof Paris as that of Paris is to that of London and that\\nthey eat the delicious rolls, in comparison with which\\nthose of Paris are tasteless. I wonder, in this land of\\nwine, and yet it must be so, if the beer-gardens are\\nstill filled nightly and if it could be that I should sit at\\na little table there, a comely lass would, before I could ask\\nfor what everybody is presumed to want, place before me\\na tall glass full of amber liquid, crowned with creamy\\nfoam. Are the handsome officers still sipping their coffee\\nin the Cafe Maximilian and, on sunny days, is the crowd\\nof fashion still streaming down to the Isar, and the high,\\nsightly walks and gardens beyond\\nAs I said, it was eleven o clock of a clear and not very\\nsevere night for Munich had had no snow on the ground\\nsince November. A deputation of our friends were at\\nthe station to see us off, and the farewells between the\\ngentlemen were in the hearty fashion of the country. I\\nknow there is a prejudice with us against kissing between\\nmen but it is only a question of taste and the experi-\\nence of anybody will tell him that the theory that this\\nsort of salutation must necessarily be desirable between\\nopposite sexes is a delusion. But I suppose it cannot be\\ndenied that kissing between men was invented in Ger-\\nmany before they wore full beards. Well, our good-bys\\nsaid, we climbed into our bare cars. There is no way of\\nheating the German cars, except by tubes filled with hot\\nwater, which are placed under the feet, and are called\\nfoot-warmers. As we slowly moved out over the plain,\\nwe found it was cold in an hour the foot-warmers, not\\nhot to start with, were stone cold. You are going to\\nsunny Italy, our friends had said as soon as you pass\\n*he Brenner you will have sunshine and delightful\\nweather. This thought consoled us, but did not warm\\nour feet. The Germans, when they travel by rail, wrap\\nthemselves in furs and carry foot-sacks.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES. i6i\\nWe creaked alon^, with many stoppings. At two\\no clock we were at Rosenheim. Rosenheim is a windy\\nplace, with clear starlight, with a multitude of cars on a\\nmultiplicity of tracks, and a large, lighted refreshment-\\nroom, which has a glowing, jolly stove. We stay there\\nan hour, toasting by the fire and drinking excellent coffee.\\nGroups of Germans are seated at tables playing cards,\\nsmoking, and taking coffee. Other trains arrive and\\nhuge men stalk in, from Vienna or Russia, you would\\nsay, enveloped in enormous fur overcoats, reaching to the\\nheels, and with big fur boots coming above the knees, in\\nwhich they move like elephants. Another start, and a\\ncold ride with cooling foot-warmers, droning on to Kurf-\\nstein. It is five o clock when we reach Kurfstein, which\\nis also a restaurant, with a hot stove, and more Germans\\ngoing on as if it were daytime but by this time in the\\nmorning the coffee had got to be wretched. After an\\nhour s waiting, we dream on again, and, before we know\\nit, come out of our cold doze into the cold dawn.\\nThrough the thick frost on the windows we see the faint\\noutlines of mountains. Scraping away the incrustation,\\nwe find that we are in the Tyrol, high hills on all\\nsides, no snow in the valley, a bright morning, and the\\nsnow peaks are soon rosy in the sunrise. It is just as we\\nexpected, little villages under the hills, and slender\\nchurch-spires Avith brick-red tops. At nine o clock we\\nare in Innsbruck, at the foot of the Brenner. No snow\\nyet. It must be charming here in the summer.\\nDuring the night we have got out of Bavaria. The\\nwaiter at the restaurant wants us to pay him ninety\\nkreuzers for our coffee, which is only six kreuzers a cup\\nn Munich. Remembering that it takes one hundred\\nKreuzers to make a gulden in Austria, I launch out a\\nBavarian gulden, and expect ten kreuzers in change. I\\nhave heard that sixty Bavarian kreuzers are equal to\\none hundred Austrian but this waiter explains to me\\nthat my gulden is only good for ninety kreuzers. I, in\\nmy turi?. explain to the waiter that it is better than the\\n13*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "(62 FROM MUXICH TO A APLES.\\ncoffee but we come to no undevstantling, and I \u00c2\u00abj;ive up,\\nbefore I begin, trvinii to understand the Austrian eur-\\nt\\\\ nov. During the day I get my pockets lull of coppers,\\nwhich are very convenient to take in change, but appear\\nto have a very slighc urchasing power in Austria even,\\nand none at all elsewhere, and the only use for which I\\nliave found is to give to Italian beggars. One of these\\npieces satisfies a bciXiiar when it dro] s into his hat and\\nthen it detahis him long enough in the examinatiou of it,\\nFo that your carriage has time to get so hir away that his\\nrenewed pursuit is usually unavailing.\\nThe Brenner Pass repaid us for the pains we had\\ntaken to see it especially as the sun shone and took the\\nfrost Irom our windows, and we encountered no snow on\\nthe track: and, indeed, the fall Avas not deep, except on\\nthe high peaks about us. Even if the engineering of the\\nroad were not. so interesting, it was something to be again\\namidst mountains that can boast a height ot ten thousand\\nfeet. After we passed the siunmit, and began the zigzag\\ndescent, we were on a sharp lookout for sunny Italy. I\\nexpected to lay aside my heavy overcoat, and sun myself\\nat the hrst station amon :c the vineyards. Instead of that,\\nwe bade good-by to bright sky, and plunged into a snow-\\nstorm, and, so greeted, drove down into the narrow\\ngorges, whose steep slopes we could see were terraced to\\nthe top, and planted with lues. AVe eotdd distinguish\\nenough to know that, with the old Roman ruins, the\\nchurches and convent towers perched on the crags, and\\nall, the scenery in summer must be liner than that of the\\nKhine, especially as the viueyartis here are picturesque,\\nthe vines being trained so as to hide ami clothe the\\nground Avith verdiu*e.\\nIt was four o clock when we reached Trent, and colder\\nilian on top of the Brenner. As the Council, owing to\\nthe dead state of its members for now three centuries.\\nwas not in session. Ave made no long tarry. AA e went\\ninto the magnilicent large rel reshment-roora to get warm\\nC lt it Avas as cold as a NcAA -Eniil ^nd barn. I asked the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES, 163\\nproprietor if we could not get at a fire but he insisted\\nthat the room was warm, that it was heated with a fur-\\nnace, aad that he burned good stove-coal, and pointed\\nto a register high up in the wall. Seeing that I looked\\nincredulous, he insisted that I should test it. Accord-\\ningly, I climbed upon a table, and reached up my hand.\\nA faint warmth came out and I gave it up, and congrat-\\nulated the landlord on his furnace. But the register\\nhad no effect on the great hall. You might as well try\\nto heat the dome of St. Peter s with a lucifer-match. At\\ndark, Allah be praised we reached Ala, where we went\\nthrough the humbug of an Italian custom-house, and liad\\nour first glimpse of Italy in the picturesque-looking idlers\\nin red-tasselled caps, and the jabber of a strange tono-ue.\\nThe snow turned into a cold rain the foot-warmers, we\\nhaving reached the sunny lands, could no longer be\\nafforded and we shivered along, till nine o clock, dark\\nand rainy, brought us to Verona. We emerged from the\\nstation to find a crowd of omnibuses, carriages, drivers,\\nrunners, and people anxious to help us, all vociferating in\\nthe highest key. Amidst the usual Italian clamor about\\nnothing, we gained our hotel omnibus, and sat there for\\nten minutes watching the dispute over our luggage, and\\nserenely listening to the angry vituperations of policemen\\nand drivers. It sounded like a revolution, but it was only\\nthe ordinary Italian way of doing things and we were at\\nast rattling away over the broad pavements.\\nOf course, we stopped at a palace turned hotel, drove\\ninto a court with double flights of high stone and marble\\nstairways, and were hurried up to the marble-mosaic\\nlanding by an active boy, and, almost before we could ask\\nfor rooms, were shown into a suite of magnificent aptift-\\nments. I had a glimpse of a garden in the rear,\\nflowers and plants, and a balcony up which I suppose\\nRomeo climbed to hold that immortal love-prattle with\\nthe lovesick Juliet. Boy began to light the candles.\\nAsked in English the price of such fine rooms. Reply in\\nItaUan. Asked in German. Reply in Italian. Asked in", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "r64 FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES.\\nFrench, with the same result. Other servants appeared,\\neach with a piece of baggage. Other candles were\\nlighted. Everybody talked in chorus. The landlady, a\\nwoman of elegant manners and great command of her\\nnative tongue, appeared with a candle, and joined in the\\nmelodious confusion. What is the price of these rooms\\nMore jabber, more servants bearing lights. We seemed\\nsuddenly to have come into an illumination and a private\\nlunatic asylum. The landlady and her troop grew more\\nand more voluble and excited. Ah, then, if these rooms\\ndo not suit the signor and signoras, there are others\\nand we were whisked off to apartments yet grander,\\ngreat suites with high, canopied beds, mirrors, and furni-\\nture that was luxurious a hundred years ago. The\\nprice Again a torrent of Italian servants pouring in,\\nlights flashing, our baggage arrivino;, until, in the tumult,\\nhopeless of any response to our inquiry for a servant who\\ncould speak any thing but Italian, and when we had\\ndecided, in despair, to hire the entire establishment, a\\nwaiter appeared who was accomplished in all languages,\\nthe row subsided, and we were left alone in our glory,\\nand soon in welcome sleep forgot our desperate search\\nfor a warm climate.\\nThe next day it was rainy and not warm but the sun\\ncame out occasionally, and we drove about to see some\\nof the sights. The first Italian town which the stranger\\nsees he is sure to remember, the out-door life of the peo-\\nple is so different from that at the North. It is the\\nfiction in Italy that it is always summer and the people\\nsit in the open market-place, shiver in the open door-\\nways, crowd into corners where the sun comes, and try\\nto keep up the beautiful pretence. The picturesque\\ngroups of idlers and traffickers were more interesting to\\nus than the palaces with sculptured fronts and old Ro-\\nman busts, or tombs of the Scaligers, and old gates. Per-\\nhaps I ought to except the wonderful and perfect Roman\\namphitheatre, over every foot of which a handsome boy\\nID rags followed us, looking over every wall that w\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES. 165\\nlooked over, peering into every hole that we peered\\ninto, thus showing his fellowship with us, and at everj*\\npause planting himself before us, and throwing a somer-\\nBet, and then extending his greasy cap for coppers, as\\nif he knew that the modern mind ought not to dwell\\ntoo exclusively on hoary antiquity without some relief.\\nAnxious, as I have said, to find the sunny South, we\\nleft Verona that afternoon for Florence, by way of Padua\\nand Bologna. The ride to Padua was through a plain\\nat this season dreary enough, were it not, here and there,\\nfor the abrupt little hills and the snowy Alps, which\\nwere always in sight, and towards sundown and between\\nshowers transcendently lovely in a purple and rosy light.\\nBut nothinsc now could be more desolate than the rows\\nof unending mulberry-trees, pruned down to the stumps,\\nthrough which we rode all the afternoon. I suppose\\nthey look better when the branches grow out with the\\ntender leaves for the silk-worms, and when they are\\nclothed with grapevines. Padua was only to us a name.\\nThere we turned south, lost mountains and the near\\nhills, and had nothing but the mulberry flats and ditches\\nof water, and chilly rain and mist. It grew unpleasant\\nas we went south. At dark we were riding slowly, very\\nslowly, for miles through a country overflowed with\\nwater, out of which trees and houses loomed up in a\\nghastly show. At all the stations soldiers were getting\\non board, shouting and singing discordantly choruses\\nfrom the operas for there was a rising at Padua, and\\none feared at Bologna the populace getting up insur-\\nrections against the enforcement of the grist-tax, a tax\\nwhich has made the Government very unpopular, as it\\nfalls principally upon the poor.\\nCreeping along at such a slow rate, we reached Bologna\\ntoo late for the Florence train. It was eight o clock, and\\nstill raining. The next train went at two o clock in the\\nmorning, and was the best one for us to take. We had\\nsupper in an inn near by, and a fair attempt at a fire in\\n\u00c2\u00bbur Darlor. I sat before it. and kept it as lively as po*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "I66 FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES.\\nBible, as the hours wore away, and tried to make believe\\nthat I was ruminating on the ancient greatness of Bo-\\nlogna and its famous university, some of whose chairs\\nhad been occupied by women, and upon the fact that it\\nwas on a little island in the Reno, just below here, that\\nOctavius and Lepidus and Mark Antony formed the\\nsecond Triumvirate, which put an end to what little\\nHberty Rome had left but in reality I was thinking of\\nthe draught on my back, and the comforts of a sunny\\nclime. But the time came at length for starting and in\\nluxurious cars we finished the night very comfortably,\\nand rode into Florence at eight in the morning to find,\\nas we had hoped, on the other side of the Apennines, a\\nsunny sky and balmy air.\\nAs this is strictly a chapter of travel and weather, J\\nmay not stop to say how impressive and beautiful Floi-\\nence seemed to us how bewildering in art treasures,\\nwhich one sees at a glance in the streets or scarcely to\\nhint how lovely were the Boboli Gardens behind the\\nPitti Palace, the roses, geraniums, c., in bloom, the\\nbirds singing, and all in a soft, dreamy air. The next\\nday was not so genial and we sped on, following our\\noriginal intention of seeking the summer in winter. In\\norder to avoid trouble with baggage and passports in\\nRome, we determined to book through for Naples,\\nmaking the trip in about twenty hours. We started at\\nnine o clock in the evening, and I do not recall a more\\nthoroughly uncomfortable journey. It grew i^ older as\\nthe night wore on, and we went farther south. Late in\\nthe morning we were landed at the station outside of\\nRome. There was a general appearance of ruin and\\ndesolation. The wind blew fiercely from the hills, and\\nthe snow-flakes from the flying clouds added to the gene-\\nral chilliness. There was no chance to get even a cup\\nof cofiee, and we waited an hour in the cold car. If I\\nliad not been so half frozen, the consciousness that I was\\nActually on the outskirts of the Eternal City, that I saw\\n\\\\iie Campagna and the aqueducts, that yonder were the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES. 167\\nAlban Hills, and that every foot of soil on which I looked\\nwas saturated with history, would have excited me.\\nThe sun came out here and there as we went south, and\\nwe caught some exquisite lights on the near and snowy\\nhills; and there was something almost homelike in the\\nmiles and miles of olive orchards, that recalled the apple-\\ntrees, but for their shining silvered leaves. And yet\\nnothing could be more desolate than the brown marshy\\nground, the brown hillocks, with now and then a shabby\\nstone hut or a bit of ruin, and the flocks of sheep shiv-\\nering near their corrals, and their shepherd, clad in\\nsheepskin, as his ancestor was in the time of Romulus,\\nleaning on his staff, with his back to the wind. Now\\nand then a white town perched on a hillside, its houses\\npiled above each other, relieved the eye and I could\\nimagine that it might be all the poets have sung of it,\\nin the spring, though the Latin poets, I am convinced,\\nhave wonderfully imposed upon us.\\nTo make my long story short, it happened to be colder\\nnext morning at Naples than it was in Germany. The\\nsun shone but the north-east wind, which the natives\\npoetically call the Tramontane, was blowing, and the\\nwhite smoke of Vesuvius rolled towards the sea. It\\nwould only last three days, it wao very unusual, and all\\nthat. The next day it was colder, and the next colder\\nyet. Snow fell, and blew about unmelted I saw it in\\nthe streets of Pompeii. The fountains were frozen,\\nicicles hung from the locks of the marble statues in the\\nChiaia. And yet the oranges glowed like gold among\\ntheir green leaves the roses, the heliotrope, the gera-\\nniums, bloomed in all the gardens. It is the most con-\\ntradictory cHmate. We lunched one day, sitting in our\\nopen carriage in a lemon grove, and near at hand the\\nLucrine Lake was half frozen over. We feasted our eyes\\non the brilliant light and color on the sea, and the\\novely outlined mountains round the shore, and waited\\nor a change of wind. The Neapolitans declare that\\nhey have not had such weather in twenty years. It s\\nscarcelv one s ideal of balmy Italy.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "t68 FROM MUNICH TO NAPLES.\\nBefore the weather changed, I began to feel in thla\\ngreat Naples, with its roaring population of over half a\\nmillion, very much like the sailor I saw at the American\\nconsul s, who applied for help to be sent home, claiming\\nto be an American. He was an oratorical bummer, and\\ntold his story with all the dignity and elevated language\\nof an old Roman. He had been cast away in London.\\nHow cast away Oh 1 it was all along of a boarding-\\nhouse. And then he found himself shipped on an\\nEnglish vessel, and he had lost his discharge-papers\\nand Listen, your honor, said he, calmly extending his\\nright hand, here I am cast away on this desolate island,\\nwith nothing before me but wind and weather.**", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "RAVENNA.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "A DEAD CITY.\\nO A VENN A is so remote from the route of general\\nI travel in Italy, that I am certain you can have no\\nlate news from there, nor can I bring you any thing much\\nlater than the sixth century. Yet, if you were to see\\nKavenna, you would say that that is late enough. I am\\nsurprised that a city which contains the most interesting\\nearly Christian churches and mosaics, is the richest ir.\\nundisturbed specimens of early Christian art, and con-\\ntains the only monuments of Roman emperors still in\\ntheir original positions, should be so seldom visited.\\nRavenna\u00c2\u00b0has been dead for some centuries and, be-\\ncause nobody has cared to bury it, its ancient monuments\\nare yet above ground. Grass grows in its wide streets,\\nand its houses stand in a sleepy, vacant contemplation\\nof each other the wind must like to mourn about its\\nsilent squares. The waves of the Adriatic once brought\\nthe commerce of the East to its wharves but the\\ndeposits of the Po and the tides have, in process of time,\\nmade it an inland town, and the sea is four miles away.\\nIn the time of Augustus, Ravenna was a favorite\\nRoman port and harbor for fleets of war and merchan-\\ndise. There Theodoric, the great king of the Goths,\\nset up his palace, and there is his enormous mausoleum.\\nAs early as A.D. 44 it became an episcopal see, with\\nSt. Apollinaris, a disciple of St. Peter, for its bishop.\\nThere some of the later Roman emperors fixed their\\nresidences, and there thoy repose. In and about it\\nevolved the adventurous life of Galla Placidia, a wo-\\n171", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "172 A DEAD CITY.\\nman of considerable talent and no principle, the daugh-\\nter of Theodosius (the great Theodosius, who subdued\\nthe Arian heresy, the first emperor baptized in the\\ntrue faith of the Trinity, the last who had a spark of\\ngenius), the sister of one emperor, and the mother\\nof another, twice a slave, once a queen, and once an\\nempress; and she, too, rests there in the great mau-\\nBoleum builded for her. There, also, lies Dante, in hia\\ntomb by the upbraiding shore rejected once of un-\\ngrateful Florence, and forever after passionately longed\\nfor. There, in one of the earliest Christian churches in\\nexistence, are the fine mosaics of the Emperor Justinian,\\nand Theodora, the handsome courtesan whom he raised\\nto the dignity and luxury of an empress on his throne in\\nConstantinople. There is the famous forest of pines,\\nstretching unbroken twenty miles down the coast to\\nRimini, in whose cool and breezy glades Dante and\\nBoccaccio walked and meditated, which Dryden has\\ncommemorated, and Byron has invested with the fas-\\ncination of his genius and under the whispering boughs\\nof which moved the glittering cavalcade which fetched\\nthe bride to Rimini, the fair Francesca, whose sinful\\nconfession Dante heard in hell.\\nWe went down to Ravenna from Bologna one after-\\nnoon, through a country level and rich, riding along\\ntoward hazy evening, the land getting flatter as we pro-\\nceeded (you know, there is a difference between level\\nand flat), through interminable mulberry-trees and vines,\\nand fields with the tender green of spring, with church-\\nspires in the rosy horizon on till the meadows became\\nmarshes, in which millions of frogs sang the overture of\\nthe opening year. Our arrival, I have reason to believe,\\nwas an event in the old town. We had a crowd of\\nmouldy loafers to witness it at the station, not one of\\nwhom had ambition enough to work to earn a sou by\\nlifting our travelling-bags. We had our hotel to om*-\\nselves, and wished that anybody else had it. The rival\\nhouse was quite aware of our advent, and watched us with", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "A DEAD CITY. I73\\njealous eyes and we, in turn, looked wistfully at it, fot\\nour own food was so scarce that, as an old traveller says,\\nwe feared that we shouldn t have enough, until we saw\\nit on the table, when its quality made it appear too much.\\nThe next morning, when I sallied out to hire a convey-\\nance, I was an object of interest to the entire population,\\nwho seemed to think it very odd that any one should\\nwalk about and explore the quiet streets. If I were to\\ndescribe Ravenna, I should say that it is as flat as Hol-\\nland and as lively as New London. There are broad\\nstreets, with high houses, that once were handsome,\\npalaces that were once the abode of luxury, gardens\\nthat still bloom, and churches by the score. It is^ an\\nopen gate through which one walks unchallenged into\\nthe past, with little to break the association with the early\\nChristian ages, their monuments undimmed by time, un-\\ntouched by restoration and innovation, the whole struck\\nwith ecclesiastical death. With all that we saw that\\nday, churches, basilicas, mosaics, statues, mausoleums,\\nI will not burden these pages but I will set down\\nenough to give you the local color, and to recall some\\nof the most interesting passages in Christian history in\\nthis out-of-the-way city on the Adriatic.\\nOur first pilgrimage was to the Church of St. Apol-\\nlinare Nuova but why it is called new I do not know,\\nas Theodoric built it for an Arian cathedral in about\\nthe year 500. It is a noble interior, having twenty-four\\nmarble columns of gray Cippolino, brought from Con-\\nstantinople, with composite capitals, on each of which is\\nan impost with Latin crosses sculptured^ on it. These\\ncolumns support round arches, which divide the nave\\nfrom the aisles, and on the whole length of the wall of\\nthe nave so supported are superb mosaics, full-length\\nfigures, in colors as fresh as if done yesterday, though\\nthey were executed thirteen hundred years ago. The\\nmosaic on the left side which is, perhaps, the finest\\none of the period in existence is interesting on an-\\nother account. It represents the city of Classis, with\\n15*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00a374 A DEAD CITY.\\n3ea and sliips, and a long procession of twenty-twc\\nvirgins presenting offerings to the Virgin and Child,\\nseated on a throne. The Virgin is surrounded by\\nangels, and has a glory round her head, which shows\\nthat homage is being paid to her. It has been supposed,\\nfrom the early monuments of Christian art, that the\\nworship of the Virgin is of comparatively recent origin\\nbut this mosaic would go to show that Mariolatry was\\nestablished before the end of the sixth century. Near\\nthis church is part of the front of the palace of Theo-\\ndoric, in which the Exarchs and Lombard kings sub-\\nsequently resided. Its treasures and marbles Char-\\nlemagne carried off to Germany.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "DOWN TO THE PINETA.\\nrrTE drove three miles beyond the city, to the\\nW Church of St. ApoUinare in Classe, a lonely edi-\\n6ce in a waste of marsh, a grand old basilica, a purei\\nspecimen of Christian art than Rome or any other Italian\\ntown can boast. Just outside the city gate stands a\\nGreek cross on a small fluted column, which marks the\\nBite of the once magnificent Basilica of St. Laurentius,\\nwhich was demolished in the sixteenth century, its stone\\nbuilt into a new church in town, and its rich marbles car-\\nried to all-absorbing Rome. It was the last relic of the old\\nport of Csesarea, famous since the time of Augustus. A\\nmarble column on a green meadow is all that remains\\nof a once prosperous city. Our road lay through the\\nmarshy plain, across an elevated bridge over the slug-\\ngish united stream of the Ronco and Montone, from\\nwhich there is a wide view, including the Pineta (or\\nPine Forest), the Church of St. ApoUinare in the midst\\nsf rice-fields and marshes, and on a clear day the Alps\\nand Apennines.\\nI can imagine nothing more desolate than this soli-\\ntary church,\u00c2\u00b0or the approach to it. Laborers were\\nbusy spading up the heavy, wet ground, or digging\\ntrenches, which instantly filled with water, for the whole\\ncountry was afloat. The frogs greeted us with clamor-\\nous chorus out of their shmy pools, and the mosquitoes\\nattacked us as we rode along. I noticed about on\\nthe bogs, wherever thev could find standing-room, half\\nViakcd wretches, with long spears, having several prongs\\n175", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "176 DOWN TO THE PINETA,\\nlike tridents, which they thrust into the grass and shal\\nlow water. Calling one of them to us, we found that\\nhis business was fishing, and that he forked out very\\nfat and edible-looking fish with his trident. Shaggy,\\nundersized horses were wading in the water, nipping\\noff the thin spears of grass. Close to the church is a\\nrickety farmhouse. If I lived there, I would as lief be\\na fish as a horse.\\nThe interior of this primitive old basilica is lofty and\\nimposing, with twenty-four handsome columns of the\\ngray Cippolino marble, and an elevated, high altar and\\ntribune, decorated with splendid mosaics of the sixth\\ncentury, biblical subjects, in all the stiff faithfulness\\nof the holy old times. The marble floor is green and\\ndamp and slippery. Under the tribune is the crypt,\\nwhere the body of St. Apollinaris used to lie (it is now\\nunder the high altar above) and, as I desired to see\\nwhere he used to rest, I walked in. I also walked into\\nabout six inches of water, in the dim, irreligious light\\nand so made a cold-water Baptist devotee of myself. In\\nthe side aisles are wonderful old sarcophagi, containing\\nthe ashes of archbishops of Ravenna, so old that the\\nowners names are forgotten of two of them, which shows\\nthat a man may build a tomb more enduring than his\\nmemory. The sculptured bas-reliefs are very interest-\\nino-, being early Christian emblems and curious devices,\\nsymbols of sheep, palms, peacocks, crosses, and the\\nfour rivers of Paradise flowing down in stony streams\\nfrom stony sources, and monograms, and pious rebuses.\\nAt the entrance of the crypt is an open stone book, called\\nthe Breviary of Gregory the Great. Detached from the\\nchurch is the Bell Tower, a circular campanile of a sort\\npeculiar to Ravenna, which adds to the picturesquenesa\\nof the pile, and suggests the notion that it is a mast\\nunshipped from its vessel, the church, which consequently\\nstands there water-logged, with no power to catch any\\nwind, of doctrine or other, and move. I forgot to sajf\\nchat the basilica was launched in the year 534.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "DUI4W TO THE PINETA. 177\\nA little weary with the good but damp old Christians,\\nvve ordered our driver to continue across the marsh to\\nthe Pineta, whose dark frin^^e bounded all our horizon\\ntoward the Adriatic. It is the largest unbroken forest in\\nItaly, and by all odds the most poetic in itself and its\\nassociations. It is twenty-five miles long, and from one\\nto three in breadth, a free growth of stately pines, whose\\nboughs are full of music and sweet odors, a succession\\nof lovely glades and avenues, with miles and miles of\\ndrives over the springy turf At the point where we\\nentered is a farmhouse. Laborers had been gatherinor\\nthe cones, which were heaped up in immense windrows,\\nhundreds of feet in length. Boys and men were busy\\npounding out the seeds from the cones. The latter are\\nused for fuel, and the former are pressed for their oil.\\nThey are also eaten we have often had them served at\\nhotel-tables, and found them rather tasteless, but not\\nunpleasant. The turf, as we drove into the recesses of\\nthe forest, was thickly covered with wild-flowers, of many\\ncolors and delicate forms but we liked best the violets,\\nfor they reminded us of home, though the driver seemed\\nto think them less valuable than the seeds of the pine-\\ncones. A lovely day and history and romance united\\nto fascinate us with the place. We were driving over\\nthe spot where, eighteen centuries ago, the Roman fleet\\nused to ride at anchor. Here, it is certain, the gloomy\\nspirit of Dante found congenial place for meditation, and\\nthe gay Boccaccio material for fiction. Here for hours,\\nday after day, Byron used to gallop his horse, giving\\nvent to that restless impatience which could not all\\nescape from his fiery pen, hearing those voices of a past\\nand dead Italy which he, more truthfully and patheti-\\ncally than any other poet, has put into living verse.\\nThe driver pointed out what is called Byron s Path,\\nwhere he was wont to ride. Everybody here, indeed,\\n?:nows of Byron and I think his memory is more secure\\nvhan any saint of them all in their stone boxes, partly\\nbecause his poetry has celebrated the region, perhaps", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00a378 DOWN TO THE PI NET A.\\nrather from the perpetuated tradition of his generosity.\\nNo foreigner was ever so popular as he while he lived at\\nRavenna. At least, the people say so now, since they\\nfind it so profitable to keep his memory alive and to point\\nout his haunts. The Italians, to be sure, know how to\\nmake capital out of poets and heroes, and are quick to\\nlearn the chriosity of foreigners, and to gratify it for a\\ncompensation. But the evident esteem in which Byron s\\nmemory is held in the Armenian monastery of St.\\nLazzare, at Venice, must be otherwise accounted for.\\nThe monks keep his library-room and table as they\\nwere when he wrote there, and like to show his portrait,\\nand tell of his quick mastery of the difficult Armenian\\ntongue. We have a notable example of a Person who\\nbecame a monk when he was sick but Byron accom-\\nplished too much work daring the few months he was on\\nthe Island of St. Lazzare, both in original composition\\nand in translating English into Armenian, for one phy\\nsically ruin 3d and broken.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "DANTE AND BYRON.\\nTHE pilgrim to Ravenna, wlio has any idea of what\\nis duetto the genius of Dante, will \\\\je disappointed\\nwhen he approaches his tomb. Its situation is in a nol\\nvery conspicuous corner, at the foot of a narrow street,\\nbearing the poet s name, and beside the Church of San\\nFranci sco, which is interesting as containing the tombs\\nof the Polenta family, whose hospitality to the wander-\\ning exile has rescued their names from oblivion. Op-\\nposite the tomb is the shabby old brick house of the\\nPolentas, where Dante passed many years of his life.\\nIt is tenanted now by all sorts of people, and a dirty\\ncarriage-shop in the courtyard kills the poetry of it.\\nDante\u00c2\u00b0died in 1321, and was at first buried in the neigh-\\nboring church but this tomb, since twice renewed, was\\nerected, and his body removed here, in 1482. It is a\\nsquare stuccoed structure, stained light green, and cov-\\nered by a dome, a tasteless monument, embellished\\nwith stucco medallions, inside, of the poet, of Virgil,\\nof Brunetto Latini, the poet s master, and of his patron,\\nGuido da Polenta. On the sarcophagus is the epitaph,\\ncomposed in Latin by Dante himself, who seems to have\\nthought, with Shakspeare, that for a poet to make his\\nown epitaph was the safest thing to do. Notwithstand-\\ning the mean appearance of this sepulchre, there is none\\nin\u00c2\u00b0all the soil of Italy that the traveller from America\\nwill visit with deeper interest. Near by is the house\\nwhere Byron first resided in Ravenna, as a tablet re-\\ncords.\\n179", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "i8o DANTE AND BYRON.\\nThe people here preserve all the memorials of Byron\\nand, I should judge, hold his memory in something like\\naffection. The Palace Guiccioli, in which he subse-\\nquently resided, is in another part of the town. He\\nspent over two years in Ravenna, and said he preferred\\nit to any place in Italy. Why I cannot see unless it\\nwas remote from the route of travel, and the desolation\\nof it was congenial to him. Doubtless he loved these\\nwide, marshy expanses on the Adriatic, and especially\\nthe great foi est of pines on its shore but Byron was\\napt to be governed in his choice of a residence by\\nthe woman with whom he was intimate. The palace\\nwas cp.rtainly pleasanter than his gloomy house in the\\nStrada di Porta Sisi, and the society of the Countess\\nGuiccioli was rather than otherwise a stimulus to his\\nliterary activity. At her suggestion he wrote the Pro-\\nphecy of Dante and the translation of Francesca da\\nKimini was executed at Ravenna, where, five centuries\\nbefore, and in the very house in which the unfortunate\\nlady was born, Dante s poem had been composed.**\\nSome of his finest poems were also produced here,\\npoems for which Venice is as grateful as Ravenna.\\nHere he wrote Marino Faliero, The Two Foscari,\\nMorganti Maggiore, Sardanapalus, The Blues,\\nthe fifth canto of Don Juan, Cain, Heaven and\\nEarth, and The Vision of Judgment. I looked in\\nat the court of the palace, a pleasant, quiet place,\\nwhere he used to work, And tried to guess which were\\nthe windows of his apartments. The sun was shining\\nbrightly, and a bird was singing in the court but there\\nwas no other sign of life, nor any thing to remind one\\nof the profligate genius who was so long a guest here.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "RJCSTING- PLACE OF C^SARS. PIC-\\nTURE OF A BEAUTIFUL HERETIC.\\nVERY different from the tomb of Dante, and dif-\\nferent in the associations it awakes, is the Ro-\\ntunda or Mausoleum of Theodoric the Goth, outside\\nthe Porta Serrata, whose daughter, Amalasuntha, as it\\nis supposed, about the year 530, erected this imposing\\nstructure as a certain place to keep his memory whole\\nand mummy hid forever. But the Goth had not lain\\nin it long before Arianism went out of fashion quite, and\\nthe zealous Roman Catholics despoiled his costly sleep-\\ning-place, and scattered his ashes abroad. I do not\\nknow that any dead person has lived in it since. The\\ntomb is still a very solid affair, a rotunda built of solid\\nblocks of limestone, and resting on a ten-sided base,\\neach side having a recess surmounted by an arch. The\\nupper story is also decagonal, and is reached by a flight\\nof modern stone steps. The roof is composed of a single\\nMock of Istrian limestone, scooped out like a shallow\\nbowl inside and, being the biggest roof-stone I ever\\nsaw, I will give you the dimensions. It is thirty-six feet\\nin diameter, hollowed out to the depth of ten feet, four\\nfeet thick at the centre, and two feet nine inches at the\\nedges, and is estimated to weigh two hundred tons.\\nAmalasuntha must have had help in getting it up there.\\nThe lower story is partly under water. The green grasa\\nof the enclosure in which it stands is damp enough for\\nfrogs. An old woman opened the iron gate to let us in.\\nWhether she was aay relation of the ancient proprietor,\\n16 181", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "l82 RESTING-PLACE OF CjESARS.\\nI did not inquire but she had so much trouble in turn\\ning the key in the rusty lock, and letting us in, that 1\\npresume we were the only visitors she has had for some\\ncenturies.\\nOld women abound in Ravenna at least, she was not\\nyoung who showed us the mausoleum of Galla Placidia.\\nrlacidia was also prudent and foreseeing, and built this\\nonce magnificent sepulchre for her own occupation. Jt\\nis in the form of a Latin cross, Ibrty-six feet in length\\nby about forty in width. The floor is paved with rich\\nmarbles the cupola is covered with mosaics of the time\\nof the empress and in the arch over the door is a fine\\nrepresentation of the Good Shepherd. Behind the altar\\nis the massive sarcophagus of marble (its cover of silver\\nplates was long ago torn off) in which are literally the\\nashes of the empress. She was immured in it as a mummy,\\nin a sitting position, clothed in imperial robes and there\\nthe ghastly corpse sat in a cypress-wood chair, to be looked\\nat by anybody who chose to peep through the aperture,\\nfor more than eleven hundred years, till one day, in 1577,\\nsome children introduced a lighted candle, perhaps out\\nof compassion for her who sat so long in darkness, when\\nher clothes caught fire, and she was burned up, a\\nwarning to all children not to play with a dead and dry\\nempress. In this :^esting-place are also the tombs of\\nHonorius II., her brother, of Constantius III., her sec-\\nond husband, and of Honoria, her daughter. There are\\nno other undisturbed tombs of the Ceesars in existence.\\nHers is almost the last, and the very small last, of a\\ngreat succession. What thoughts of a great empire in\\nruins do not force themselves on one in the confined\\nwalls of this little chamber! What a woman was she\\nwhose ashes lie there She saw and aided the ruin of\\nthe empire but it may be said of her, that her vices\\nh^ere greater than her misfortunes. And what a storv\\nis her life Born to the purple, educated in the palace\\nat Constantinople, accomplished but not handsome, at the\\nage of twenty she was in Rome when Alaric besieged it", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "PICTURE OF A BEAUTIFUL HERETIC, 183\\nCJarried off captive by the Goths, she became the not\\nnnwilling object of the passion of Eang Adolphus, who at\\nlength married her at Narbonne. At the nuptials the\\nking, in a Roman habit, occupied a seat lower than hers,\\nwhile she sat on a throne habited as a Roman empress,\\nand received homage. Fifty handsome youths bore to\\nher in each hand a dish of gold, one filled with coin, and\\nthe other with precious stones, a small part only, these\\nhundred vessels of treasure, of the spoils the Goths\\nbrought from her country. When Adolphus, who never\\nabated his fondness for his Roman bride, was assassinated\\nat Barcelona, she was treated like a slave by his as-\\nsassins, and driven twelve miles on foot before the horse\\nof his murderer. Ransomed at length for six hundred\\nthousand measures of wheat by her brother Honorius,\\nwho handed her over strun-glino- to Constantius, one of\\nhis generals. But, once married, her reluctance ceased\\nand she set herself to advance the interests of herself\\nand husband, ruling him as she had done the first one.\\nHer purpose was accomplished when he was declared\\njoint emperor with Honorius. He died shortly after\\nftnd scandalous stories of her intimacy with her brother\\ncaused her removal to Constantinople but she came\\nback again, and reio;ned lono; as the resrent of her son,\\nValentinian HI., a feeble youth, who never grew to have\\neither passions or talents, and was very likely, as was\\nsaid, enervated by his mother in dissolute indulgence,\\nso that she might be supreme. But she died at Rome\\nin 450, much praised for her orthodoxy and her devotion\\nto the Trinity. And there was her daughter, Honoria,\\nwho ran off with a chamberlain, and afterward offered\\nto throw herself into the arms of Attila, who wouldn t\\ntake her as a gift at first, but afterward demanded her,\\nand fought to win her and her supposed inheritance\\nBut they were a bad lot altogether and it is no credit\\nKq a Christian of the nineteenth century to stay in thia\\ndomb so long.\\nNear this mausoleum is the magnificent Basilica of St.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "I84 RESTING-PLACE OF C^SARS.\\nVitale, built in the reign of Justinian, and consecrated iii\\n547. I was interested to see it because it was erected\\nin confessed imitation of St. Sophia, at Constantinople,\\nis in the octagonal form, and has all the accessories\\nof Eastern splendor, according to the architectural au-\\nthorities. Its effect is really rich and splendid and it\\nrather dazzled us with its maze of pillars, its upper and\\nlower columns, its galleries, complicated capitals, arches\\non arches, and Byzantine intricacies. To the student\\nof the very early ecclesiastical art, it must be an object\\nof more interest than even of wonder. But what I cared\\nmost to see were the mosaics in the choir, executed in\\nthe time of Justinian, and as fresh and beautiful as on\\nthe day they were made. The mosaics and the exquisite\\narabesques on the roof of the choir, taken together, are\\ncertainly unequalled by any other early church-deco-\\nration I have seen and they are as interesting as they\\nare beautiful. Any description of them is impossible\\nbut mention may be made of two characteristic groups,\\nremarkable for execution, and having yet a deeper in-\\nterest.\\nIn one compartment of the tribune is the figure of the\\nEmperor Justinian, holding a vase with consecrated offer-\\nings, and surrounded by courtiers and soldiers. Oppo-\\nsite is the figure of the Empress Theodora, holding a\\nsimilar vase, and attended by ladies of her court. There is\\na refinement and an elegance about the empress, a grace\\nand sweet dignity, that is fascinating. This is royalty,\\nstately and cold perhaps even the mouth may be\\na little cruel, I begin to perceive, as I think of her but\\nshe wears the purple by divine right. I have not seen\\non any walls any figure walking out of history so cap-\\ntivating as this lady, who would seem to have been\\nworthy of apotheosis in a Christian edifice. Can there\\nbe any doubt that this lovely woman was orthodox?\\nShe, also, has a story, which you doubtless have beer\\nrecalling as you read. Is it worth while to repeat even\\nUs outlines This charming regal woman was th\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "PICTURE OF A BEAUTIFUL HERETIC. 185\\niaughter of the keeper of tlie bears in the circus a*\\nConstantinople and she early went upon the stage aa\\nft pantomimist and buffoon. She was beautiful, with\\nregular features, a little pale, but with a tinge of natural\\ncolor, vivacious eyes, and an easy motion that displayed\\nto advantage the graces of her small but elegant figure.\\nI can see all that in the mosaic. But she sold her charms\\nto whoever cared to buy them in Constantinople she\\nled a life of dissipation that cannot be even hinted at in\\nthese days she went off to Egypt as the concubine of\\na general was deserted, and destitute even to misery\\nin Cairo wandered about a vagabond in many Eastern\\ncities, and won the reputation everywhere of the most\\nbeautiful courtesan of her time re-appeared in Constan-\\ntinople and, having, it is said, a vision of her future,\\nsuddenly took to a pretension of virtue and plain sew-\\ning; contrived to gain the notice of Justinian, to inflame\\nhis passions as she did those of all the world besides,\\nto captivate him into first an alliance, and at length a\\nmarriage. The emperor raised her to an equal seat\\nwith himself on his throne and she was worshipped\\nas empress in that city where she had been admired\\nas harlot. And on the throne she was a wise woman,\\ncourageous and chaste; and had her palaces on the\\nBosphorus and took good care of her beauty, and in-\\ndulged in the pleasures of a good table had ministers\\nwho kissed her feet a crowd of women and eunuchs in\\nher secret chambers, whose passions she indulged was\\navaricious and sometimes cruel and founded a convent\\nfor the irreclaimably bad of her own sex, some of whom\\nliked it, and some of whom threw themselves into the\\nsea in despair and when she died was an irreparable\\nloss to her emperor. So that it seems to me it is a pity\\nthat the historian should say that she was devout, but a\\nlittle heretic.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "A HIGH DAY IN ROME.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "PALM SUNDAY IN ST. PETER S.\\nrf^HE splendid and tiresome ceremonies of Holy Week\\nJL set in also the rain, which, held up for two days.\\nRome without the sun, and with rain and the bone-\\npenetrating damp cold of the season, is a wretched\\nplace. Squalor and ruins and cheap splendor need the\\nsun the galleries need it the black old masters in the\\ndark corners of the gaudy churches need it I think\\nscarcely any thing of a cardinal s big, blazing footman,\\nunless the sun shines on him, and radiates from his\\nbroad back and his splendid calves the models, who\\nget up in theatrical costumes, and get put into pictures,\\nand pass the world over for Roman peasants (and\\nbeautiful many of them are) can t sit on the Spanish\\nStairs in indolent pose when it rains the streets are\\nslimy and horrible the carriages try to run over you,\\nand stand a very good chance of succeeding, where there\\nare no sidewalks, and you are limping along on the slip-\\npery, round cobble-stones you can t get into the coun-\\ntry, which is the best part of Rome but when the sun\\nshines all this is changed the dear old dirty town exer-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2jises its fascinations on you then, and you speedily forget\\nyour recent misery.\\nHoly Week is a vexation to most people. All the\\nworld crowds here to see its exhibitions and theatrical\\nshows, and works hard to catch a glimpse of them, and\\nis tired out, if not disgusted, at the end. The things to\\nsee and hear are Palm Sunday in St. Peter s singing\\nnf the miserere by the pope s choir on Wednesday,\\n189", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "igp PALM SUNDA Y IN ST. PE TER S.\\nThursday, and Friday in the Sistine Chapel washing\\nof the pilgrims feet in a cliapel of St. Peter s, and serv-\\ning the apostles at table by the pope on Thursday, with\\na papal benediction from tlie balcony afterwards Easter\\nSunday, with the illumination of St. Peter s in the even-\\ning and fireworks (this year in front of St. Peter s in\\nMontorio) Monday evening. Raised seats are built up\\nabout the high altar under the dome in St. Peter s, which\\nwill accommodate a thousand, and perhaps more, ladies\\nand for these tickets are issued without numbers, and\\nfor twice as many as they will seat. Gentlemen who\\nare in evening dress are admitted to stand in the re-\\nserved places inside the lines of soldiers. For the\\nmiserere in the Sistine Chapel tickets are also issued. As\\nthere is only room for about four hundred ladies, and a\\nthousand and more tickets are given out, you may ima-\\ngine the scramble. Ladies go for hours before the singing\\nbegins, and make a grand rush when the doors are open.\\nI do not know any sight so unseemly and cruel as a\\ncrowd of women intent on getting in to such a ceremony\\nthey are perfectly rude and unmerciful to each other.\\nThey push and trample one another under foot veils\\nand dresses are torn; ladies faint away in the scrim-\\nmage, and only the strongest and most unscrupulous get\\nin. I have heard some say, who have been in the pell-\\nmell, that, not content with elbowing and pushing and\\npounding, some women even stick pins into those who\\nare in the way. I hope this latter is not true but it is\\ncertain that the conduct of most of the women is brutal.\\nA weak or modest or timid woman stands no more\\nchance than she would in a herd of infuriated Campagna\\ncattle. The same scenes are enacted in the efforts to\\nsee the pope wash feet, and serve at the table. For thp\\npossession of the seats under the dome on Palm Sunday\\nand Easter there is a like crush. The ceremonies do\\nnot begin until half-past nine but ladies go betweei;\\nfive and six o clock in the morning, and when the pas-\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2ages are open they make a grand rush. The seats", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "PALM SUNDA V IN ST. PE TER S. 191\\nexcept thoso saved for the nobility, are soon all taken\\nand the ladies who come after seven are lucky if they\\ncan get within the charmed circle, and find a spot to sit\\ndown on a camp-stool. They can then see only a part\\nof the proceedings, and have a weary, exhausting time\\nof it for hours. This year Rome is more crowded\\nthan ever before. There are American ladies enough\\nto fill all the reserved places and I fear they are ener-\\ngetic enough to get their share of them.\\nIt rained Sunday but there was a steady stream of\\npeople and carriages all the morning pom^ing over the\\nBridge of St. Angelo, and discharging into the piazza\\nof St. Peter s. It was after nine when I arrived on the\\nground. There was a crowd of carriages under the\\ncolonnades, and a heavy fringe in front of them but\\nthe hundreds of people moving over the piazza, and up\\nthe steps to the entrances, made only the impression of\\ndozens in the vast space. I do not know if there are\\npeople enough in Rome to fill St. Peter s certainly there\\nwas no appearance of a crowd as we entered, although\\nthey had been pouring in all the morning, and still\\nthronged the doors. I heard a traveller say that he fol\\nlowed ten thousand soldiers into the church, and then\\nlost them from sight they disappeared in the side\\nchapels. He did not make his afiidavit as to the num-\\ner of soldiers. The interior area of the building is not\\nluch greater than the square of St. Mark in Venice.\\nTo go into the great edifice is almost like going out doors.\\nLines of soldiers kept a wide passage clear from the front\\ndoor away down to the high altar and there was a good\\nmass of spectators on the outside. The tribunes for the\\nladies, built up under the dome, were, of course, filled\\nwith masses of ladies in solemn black and there was\\nmore or less of a press of people surging about in that\\nvicinity. Thousands of people were also roaming about\\nin the great spaces of the edifice bu there was no-\\nwhere else any thing like a crowd. It had very much\\nthe appeai^ance of a large fair-ground, with littk crowds", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "192 PALM SUNDAY IN ST. PETER S.\\nabout favorite bootlas. Gentlemen in dress-coats -were\\nadmitted to the circle under the dome. The pope s\\nchoir was stationed in a gallery there opposite the high\\naltar. Back of the altar was a wide space for the dig-\\nnitaries seats were there, also, for ambassadors and\\nthose born to the purple and the pope s seat was on a\\nraised dais at the end. Outsiders could see nothing of\\nwhat went on within there and the ladies under the\\ndome could only partially see, in the seats they had\\nfought so gallantly to obtain.\\nSt. Peter s is a good place for grand processions and\\nceremonies but it is a poor one for viewing them. A\\nprocession which moves down the nave is hidden by the\\nsoldiers who stand on either side, or is only visible by\\nsections as it passes there is no good place to get the\\ngrand effect of the masses of color, and the total of the\\ngorgeous pageantry. I should like to see the display\\nupon a grand stage, and enjoy it in a coup d oeil. It is\\na fine study of color and effect, and the groupings are\\nadmirable but the whole affair is nearly lost to the mass\\nof spectators. It must be a sublime feeling to one in the\\nprocession to walk about in such monstrous fine clothes\\nbut what would his emotions be if more people could see\\nhim 1 The grand altar stuck up under the dome, not\\nonly breaks the effect of what would be the fine sweep\\nof the nave back to the apse, but it cuts off all view of\\nthe celebration of the mass behind it, and, in effect,\\nreduces what should be the great point of display in the\\nchurch to a mere chapel. And, when you add to that\\nthe temporary tribunes erected under the dome for seat-\\ning the ladies, the entire nave is shut off from a view\\nof the gorgeous ceremony of high mass. The effect\\nwould be incomparable if one could stand in the door,\\nor anywhere in the nave, and, as in other churches\\nlook down to the end upon a great platform, with the high\\naltar and all the sublime spectacle in full view, with the\\nblaze of candles and the clouds of incense rising in the\\ndistance.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "PALM SUNDAY IN ST. PETER S. 193\\nAt half-past nine the great doors opened, and the pro-\\ncession began, in slow and stately moving fashion, ta\\nenter. One saw a throng of ecclesiastics in robes and\\nermine; the white plumes of the Guard Noble; the\\npages and chamberlains in scarlet other pages, or what\\nnot, in black short-clothes, short swords, gold chains,\\ncloak hanging from the shoulder, and stiff white ruffs\\nthirty-six cardinals in violet robes, with high, mitre-\\nshaped white silk hats, that looked not unlike the paste-\\nboard trainer-caps that boys wear when they play\\nsoldier; crucifixes, and a blazoned banner here and\\nthere and, at last, the pope, in his red chair, borne on\\nthe shoulders of red lackeys, heaving along in a sea-\\nsicky motion, clad in scarlet and gold, with a silver\\nmitre on his head, feebly making the papal benediction\\nwith two upraised fingers, and moving his lips in blessing.\\nAs the pope came in, a supplementary choir of men and\\nsoprano hybrids, stationed near the door, set up a high,\\nwelcoming song, or chant, which echoes rather finely\\nthrough the building. All the music of the day is\\nvocal.\\nThe procession having reached its destination, and\\ndisappeared behind the altar of the dome, the pope dis-\\nmounted, and took his seat on his throne. The blessing\\nof the palms began, the cardinals first approaching, and\\nafterwards the members of the diplomatic corps, the\\narchbishops and bishops, the head^ of the religious\\norders, and such private persons as have had permission\\nto do so. I had previously seen the palms carried in by\\nservants in great baskets. It is, perhaps, not necessary\\nto say that they are not the poetical green waving palms,\\nbut stiff sort of wands, woven out of dry, yellow, split\\npalm-leaves, sometimes four or five feet in length, braided\\ninto the semblance of a crown on top, a kind of rough\\nbasket-work. The palms having been blessed, a proces-\\nsion was again formed down the nave and out the door,\\n^11 in it carrying pahns in their hands, the yellow color\\nof which added a new element of picturesqueness to the\\n17", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "194 PALM SUNDA Y IN ST. PE TER S.\\nBplendid pageant. The pope was carried as before,\\nand bore in his hand a short, braided palm, with gola\\nwoven in, flowers added, and the monogram I. H. S.\\nworked in the top. It is the pope s custom to give thig\\naway when the ceremony is over. Last year he pre-\\nsented it to an American Jady, whose devotion attracted\\nhim this year, I saw it go aAvay in a gilded coach in\\nthe hands of an ecclesiastic. The procession disappeared\\nthrough the great portal into the vestibule, and the door\\nclosed. In a moment, somebody knocked three times\\non the door it opened, and the procession returned,\\nand moved again to the rear of the altar, the singers\\nmarchinor with it and chantino;. The cardinals then\\nchanged their violet for scarlet robes and high mass, for\\nan hour, was celebrated by a cardinal priest and I was\\ntold that it was the pope s voice that we heard, high and\\nclear, singing the passion. The choir made the responses,\\nand performed at intervals. The singing was not with-\\nout a certain power indeed, it was marvellous how some\\nof the voices really filled the vast spaces of the edifice,\\nand the choruses rolled in solemn waves of sound through\\nthe arches. The singing, with the male sopranos, is not\\nto my taste but it cannot be denied that it had a wild\\nand strange effect.\\nWhile this was going on behind the altar, the people\\noutside were wandering about, looking at each other, and\\non the watch not to miss any of the shows of the day.\\nPeople were talking, chattering, and greeting each other\\nas they might do in the street. Here and there some-\\nbody was kneeling on the pavement, unheeding the\\npassing throng. At several of the chapels, services were\\nbeino; conducted and there was a larsje cona;reo;ation, an\\nordinary church full, about each of them. But the most\\nof those present seemed to regard it as a spectacle only\\nand, as a display of dress, costumes, and nationalities, it\\nwas almost unsurpassed. There are few more wonder-\\nful sights in this world than an Englishwoman in what\\nehe considers full dress. An English dandy is also a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "PALM SUNDA V IN ST. PE TE R S 195\\npleasing object. For my part, as I have hinted, I liko\\nalmost as well as any thing the big footmen, those in\\nBcarlet breeches and blue, gold-embroidered coats. 1\\nstood in front of one of the fine creations for some time,\\nand contemplated him as one does the Farnese Hercules.\\nOne likes to see to what a splendor his species can come,\\neven if the brains have all run down into the calves of\\nthe legs. There were also the pages, the officers of the\\npope s household, in costumes of the Middle Ages the\\npope s Swiss guard in the showy harlequin uniform de-\\nsigned by Michael Angelo the foot-soldiers in white\\nshort-clothes, which threatened to burst, and let them fly\\ninto pieces; there were fine ladies and gentlemen,\\nloafers and loungers, from every civilized country, jabber-\\ning in all the languages there were beggars in rags, and\\nboors in coats so patched, that there was probably none\\nof the original material left; there were groups of peas-\\nants from the Campagna, the men in short jackets and\\nsheepskin breeches with the wool side out, the women\\nwith gay-colored folded cloths on their heads, and coarse,\\nwoollen gowns a squad of wild-looking Spanish gypsies,\\nburning-eyed, olive-skinned, hair long, black, crinkled,\\nand greasy, as wild in raiment as in face priests and\\nfriars. Zouaves in jaunty light gray and scarlet rags and\\nvelvets, silks and serge cloths, a cosmopolitan gath-\\nering poured into the world s great place of meeting,\\na fine religious Vanity Fair on Sunday.\\nThere came an impressive moment in all this con-\\nfusion, a point of august solemnity. Up to that instant,\\nwhat with chanting and singing the many services, and\\nthe noise of talking and walking, there was a wild Babel.\\nBut at the stroke of the bell and the elevation of the\\nHost, down went the muskets of the guard with one\\nclang on the marble the soldiers kneeled the multitude\\nin the nave, in the aisles, at all the chapels, kneeled and\\nfor a minute in that vast edifice there was perfect stillness\\nif the whole great concourse had been swept from tha\\n\u00c2\u00bbarta, the spot where it lately was could not have been", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "196 PALM SUNDAY IN ST. PETER S.\\nmore silent. And then the military order went down\\nthe line, the soldiers rose, the crowd rose, and the mass\\nand the hum went on.\\nIt was all over before one and the pope was borne\\nout again, and the vast crowd began to discharge itself.\\nBut it was a long time before the carriages were all filled\\nand rolled ofi I stood for a half-hour watchinsj the\\nstream go by, the pompous soldiers, the peasants and\\ncitizens, the dazzling equipages, and jaded, exhausted\\nwomen in black, who had sat or stood half a day under\\nthe dome, and could get no carriage and the great\\nstate coaches of the cardinals, swinging high in the air,\\npainted and gilded, with three noble footmen hanging\\non behind each, and a cardinal s broad face in the\\nwindow.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "VESUVIUS.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nE^EllYBODY who comes to Naples, that is,\\neverybody except the lady who fell from her\\nhorse the other day at Eesina, and injured her shoulder,\\nas she was mounting for the ascent, everybody, I say,\\ngoes up Vesuvius, and nearly every one writes impres-\\nsions and descriptions of the performance. If you be-\\nlieve the tales of travellers, it is an undertaking of great\\nhazard, an experience of frightful emotions. How\\nunsafe it is, especially for ladies, I heard twenty times\\nin Naples before I had been there a day. Why, theie\\nwas a lady thrown from her horse and nearly killed,\\nonly a week ago and she still lay ill at the next hotel, a\\nwitness of the truth of the story. I imagined her plunged\\ndown a precipice of lava, or pitched over the lip of the\\ncrater, and only rescued by the devotion of a gallant\\nguide, who threatened to let go of her if she didn t pay\\naim twenty francs instantly. This story, which will live\\nand grow for years in this region, a waxing and never-\\nwaning peril of the volcano, I found, subsequently, had\\nthe foundation I have mentioned above. The lady did\\ngo to Eesina in order to make the ascent of Vesuvius,\\nmounted a horse there, fell off, being utterly unhorsewo-\\nmanly, and hurt herself; but her injury had no more\\nto do with Vesuvius than it had with the entrance of\\nVictor Emanuel into Naples, which took place a couple\\nof weeks after. Well, as I was saying, it is the fashion\\nto write descriptions of Vesuvius and you might as weU\\nnave mine, which I shall give to you in rough outline.\\n199", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "200 CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nTliere came a day wlien the Tramontane ceased to\\nblow down on us the cold air of the snowy Apennines,\\nand the white cap of Vesuvius, which is, by the way,\\nworn generally like the caps of the Neapolitans, drifted\\nInland instead of toward the sea. Wanner weather had\\ncome to make the bright sunshine no longer a mockery.\\nFor some days I had been getting the gauge of the\\nmountain. With its white plume it is a constant quan-\\ntity in the landscape one sees it from every point of\\nview and we had been scarcely anywhere that volcaaic\\nremains, or signs of such action, a thin crust shaking\\nunder our feet, as at Solfatara, where blasts of sulphur-\\nous steam drove in our faces, did not remind us that\\nthe whole ground is uncertain, and undermined b} the sub-\\nterranean fires that have Vesuvius for a chimney. All\\nthe coast of the bay, within recent historic periods, in\\ndifferent spots at different times, has risen and sunk and\\nrisen again, in simple obedience to the pulsations of the\\ngreat fiery monster below. It puffs up or sinks, like the\\ncrust of a baking apple-pie. This region is evidently\\nnot done and I think it not unlikely it may have to be\\nturned over again before it is. We had seen where Her-\\nculaneum lies under the lava and under the town of Re-\\nsina we had walked those clean and narrow streets of\\nPompeii, and seen the workmen picking away at the\\nembedded gravel, sand, and ashes which still cover\\nnearly two-thirds of the nice little, tight little Roman\\ncity we had looked at the black gashes on the moun-\\ntain-sides, where the lava streams had gushed and rolled\\nand twisted over vineyards and villas and villages and\\nwe decided to take a nearer look at the immediate cause\\nof all this abnormal state of things.\\nIn the morning when I awoke the sun was just rising\\nbehind Vesuvius and there was a mighty display cf gold\\nand crimson in that quarter, as if the curtain was about\\nto be lifted on a grand performance, say a ballet at\\nSan Carlo, which is the only thing the Neapolitans think\\nUrorth looking at. Straight up in the air, out of the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "CLIMBING A VOLCANO. 201\\nmountain, rose a white pillar, spreading out at the top\\nlike a palm-tree, or, to compare it to something I havo\\nseen, to the Italian pines, that come so picturesquely into\\nall these Naples pictures. If you will believe me, that\\npillar of steam was like a column of fire, from the sun\\nshining on and through it, and perhaps from the reflec-\\ntion of the background of crimson clouds and blue and\\ngold sky, spread out there and hung there in royal and\\nextravagant profusion, to make a highway and a regal\\ngateway, through which I could just then see coming the\\nhorses and the chariot of a southern perfect day. They\\nsaid that the tree-shaped cloud was the sign of an erup-\\ntion but the hotel-keepers here are always predicting\\nthat. The eruption is usually about two or three weeks\\ndi-Gtant and the hotel proprietors get this information\\nfrom experienced guides, who observe the action of the\\nwater in the wells so that there can be no mistake about\\nit.\\nWe took carriages at nine o clock to Eesina, a drive\\nof four miles, and one of exceeding interest, if you wish\\nto see Naples life. The way is round the curving bay\\nby the sea but so continuously built up is it, and so\\nenclosed with high walls of villas, through the open\\ngates of which the golden oranges gleam, that you seem\\nnever to leave the city. The streets and quays swarm\\nwith the most vociferous, dirty, multitudinous life. It is\\na drive through Rag Fair. The tall, whitey-yellow\\nhouses fronting the water, six, seven, eight stories high,\\nare full as bee-hives people are at all the open windows\\ngarments hang from the balconies and from poles thrust\\nout; up every narrow, gloomy, ascending street are\\ncrowds of struggling human shapes and you see how\\nlike herrings in a box are packed the over half a millior\\npeople of Naples. In front of the houses are the mar\\nkcts in the open air, fish, vegetables, carts of oranges\\nin the sun sit women spinning from distaflTs or weaving\\nfishing-nets and rows of children who were never washed\\nand never clothed but once, and whose garments have", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "202 CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nnearly wasted away beggars, fisliermen in red caps,\\npallors, priests, donkeys, fruit-venders, street-musicians,\\ncarriages, carts, two-wheeled break-down vehicles, the\\nwhole tangled in one wild roar and rush and Babel, a\\nshifting, varied panorama of color, rags, a pandemonium\\nsuch as the world cannot show elsewhere, that is what\\none sees on the road to E-esina. The drivers all drive\\nin the streets here as if they held a commission from the\\nDevil, cracking their whips, shouting to their horses, and\\ndashing into the thickest tangle with entire recklessness.\\nThey have one cry, used alike for getting more speed out\\nof their horses or for checking them, or in warning to\\nthe endangered crowds on foot. It is an exclamatory\\ngrunt, which may be partially expressed by the letters\\na-e-ugh. Everybody shouts it, mule-driver, coachee,\\nor cattle driver and even I, a passenger, fancied I could\\ndo it to disagreeable perfection after a time. Out of this\\nthrong in the streets I lilte to select the meek, patient,\\ndiminutive little donkeys, with enormous panniers that\\nalmost hide them. One would have a woman seated on\\ntop, with a child in one pannier and cabbages in the\\nother; another, with an immense stock of market-greens\\non his back, or big baskets of oranges, or with a row of\\nwine-casks and a man seated behind, adhering, by some\\nunknown law of adhesion, to the sloping tail. Then\\nthere was the cart drawn by one diminutive donkey, or\\nby an ox, or by an ox and a donkey, or by a donkey and\\nhorse abreast, never by any possibility a matched team.\\nAnd, funniest of all, was the high, two-wheeled caleclie,\\nwith one seat, and top thrown back, with long thills and\\npoor horse. Upon this vehicle were piled. Heaven knowa\\nnow, behind, before, on the thills, and underneath the\\njiigh seat, sometimes ten, and not seldom as many as\\neighteen people, men, women, and children, all in\\nflaunting rags, with a colored scarf here and there, or a gay\\npetticoat, or a scarlet cap, perhaps a priest, with broad\\nblack hat, in the centre; driving along like a comet, the\\npoor horse in a gallop, he bells on his ornamented sad-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "CLIMBING A VOLCANO. 203\\nile merrily jingling, and the whole load in a roar of mer-\\nriment.\\nBut we shall never get to Vesuvius at this rate. J\\nwill not even stop to examine the macaroni manufacto-\\nries on the road. The long strips of it were hung out on\\npoles to dry in the streets, and to get a rich color from\\nthe dirt and dust, to say nothing of its contact with the\\nfilthy people who were making it. I am very fond of\\nmacaroni. At Kesina we take horses for the ascent.\\nWe had sent, ahead for a guide and horses for our party\\nof ten but we found besides, I should think, pretty\\nnearly the entire population of the locality awaiting us,\\nnot to count the importunate beggars, the hags, male and\\nfemale, and the ordinary loafers of the place. We were\\nbesieged to take this and that horse or mule, to buy\\nwalking-sticks for the climb, to purchase lava cut into\\ncharms, and veritable ancient coins, and dug-up cameos,\\nall manufactured for the demand. Oiie wanted to\\nhold the horse, or to lead it, to carry a shawl, or to show\\nthe way. In the midst of infinite clamor and noise, we\\nat last got mounted, and, turning into a narrow lane\\nbetween high walls, began the ascent, our cavalcade\\nattended by a procession of rags and wretchedness up\\nthrough the village. Some of them fell off as we rose\\namong the vineyards, and they found us proof against\\nbegging; but several accompanied us all day, hoping\\nthat, in some unguarded moment, they could do us some\\nslioht service, and so establish a claim on us. Among\\nihese I noticed some stout fellows with short ropes, with\\nwhich they intended to assist us up the steeps. If 1 looked\\naway an instant, some urchin would seize my horse s bri-\\ndle and when I carelessly let my stick fall on his hand,\\nin token for him to let go, he would foil back with an\\nhijured look, and grasp the tail, from which I could only\\nloosen him by swinging my staff and preparing to break\\nDis head.\\nThe ascent is easy at first between walls and the vine,\\nyards which produce the celebrated Lachryraa Christi", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "204 CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nAfter a half-hour we reached and began to cross the\\nlava of 1S58, and the wild desolation and gloom of th\u00c2\u00ab\\nmountain began to strike us. One is here conscious of\\nthe Titanic forces at work. Sometimes it is as if a giant\\nhad ploughed the ground, and left the furrows without har-\\nrowing them to harden into black and brown stone. We\\ncould see again how the broad stream, flowing down,\\nsqueezed and squashed like mud, had taken all fantastic\\nshapes, now like gnarled tree-roots now like serpents\\nin a coil here the human form, or a part of it, a torso or\\na limb, in agony now in other nameless convolutions\\nand contortions, as if heaved up and twisted in fiery pain\\nand suffering, for there was almost a human feeling in\\nit and again not unlike stone billows. We could see\\nhow the cooling crust had been lifted and split and\\nturned over by the hot stream underneath, which, con-\\ntinually oozing from the rent of the eruption, bore it\\ndown and pressed it upward. Even so low as the point\\nwhere we crossed the lava of 1858 were fissures whence\\ncame hot air.\\nAn hour brought us to the resting-place called the\\nHermitage, an osteria and observatory established by\\nthe Government. Standing upon the end of a spur, it\\nseems to be safe from the lava, whose course has always\\nbeen on either side but it must be an uncomfortable\\nplace in a shower of stones and ashes. We rode hall\\nan hour longer on horseback, on a nearly level path, to\\nthe foot of the steep ascent, the base of the great crater-\\nThis ride gave us completely the wide and ghastly deso-\\nlation of the mountain, the ruin that the lava has\\nfvrought upon slopes that were once green with vine\\nind olive, and busy with the hum of life. This black,\\nontorted desert waste is more sterile and hopeless than\\nvvny mountain of stone, because the idea of relentless\\nw^tstruction is involved here. This great, hummocked,\\nnioping plain, ridged and seamed, was all about us, with-\\nout cheer or relaxation of grim solitude. Before us rose\\nis black and bare, what the guides call the mountain,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "CLIMBING A VOLCANO. 20^\\nacrd whicL used to be the crater. Up one side is worked\\nin the lava a zigzag path, steep, but not very fatiguing,\\nif you take it slowly. Two-thirds of the way up, I saw\\nBpecks of people climbing. Beyond it rose the cone of\\nashes, out of which the great cloud of sulphurous smoke\\nrises and rolls night and day now. On the very edge of\\nthat, on the lip of it, where the sm^ke rose, I also saw\\nhuman shapes and it seemed as if they stood on the\\nbrink of Tartarus and in momently, imminent peril.\\nWe left our horses in a wild spot, where scorched\\nbowlders had fallen upon the lava bed and guides and\\nboys gathered about us like cormorants but, declining\\ntheir offers to pull us up, we began the ascent, which\\ntook about three-quarters of an hour. We were then on\\nthe summit, which is, after all, not a summit at all, but an\\nuneven waste, sloping away from the Cone in the centre.\\nThis sloping lava waste was full of little cracks, not fis-\\nsures with hot lava in them, or any thing of the sort, out\\nof which white steam issued, not. unlike the smoke from\\na great patch of burned timber and the wind blew it\\nalong the ground towards us. It was cool, for the sun\\nwas hidden by light clouds, but not cold. The ground\\nunder foot was slightly warm. I had expected to^ feel\\nsome dread, or shrinking, or at least some sense of inse-\\ncurity, but I did not the slightest, then or afterwards\\nand I think mine is the usual experience. I had no\\nmore sense of danger on the edge of the crater than I\\nhad in the streets of Naples.\\nWe next addressed ourselves to the Cone, which is a\\nloose hill of ashes and sand, a natural slope, I should\\nsay, of about one and a half to one, offering no foothold.\\nThe climb is very fatiguing, because you sink in to the\\nankles, and slide back at every step but it is short, we\\nwere up in six to eight minutes, though the ladies, who\\nhad been helped a httle by the guides, were nearly\\nexhausted, and sank down on the very edge of the cra-\\nter, with their backs to the smoke. What did we see\\nWhat would you see if you looked into a steam boiler\\n18", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "2o6 CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nWe stood on the ashy edge of tlae crater, the sharp edge\\nsloping one way down the mountain, and the other into\\nthe bowels, whence the thick, stifling smoke rose. We\\nrolled stones down, and heard them rumbling for half a\\nminute. The diameter of the crater on the brink of\\nwhich we stood was said to be an eighth of a mile but\\nthe whole was completely filled with vapor. The edge\\nwhere we stood was quite warm. We ate some rolls we\\nhad brought in our pockets, and some of the party tried\\na bottle of the wine that one of the cormorants had\\nbrought up, but found it any thing but the Lachryma\\nChristi it was named. AVe looked with longing eyes\\ndown into the vapor-boiling caldron we looked at the\\nwide and lovely view of land and sea we tried to realize\\nour awful situation, munched our dry bread, and laughed\\nat the monstrous demands of the vagabonds about us for\\nmoney, and then turned and went down quicker than we\\ncame up.\\nWe had chosen to ascend to the old crater rather than\\nto the new one of the recent eruption on the side of the\\nmountain, where there is nothing to be seen. When we\\nreached the bottom of the Cone, our guide led us to the\\nnorth side, and into a region that did begin to look like\\nbusiness. The wind drove all the smoke round there,\\nand we were half stifled with sulphur fumes to begin\\nwith. Then the whole ground was discolored red and\\nyellow, and with many more gay and sulphur-suggesting\\n!olors. And it actually had deep fissures in it, over\\nwhich we stepped and among which we went, out of\\nwhich came blasts of hot, horrid vapor, with a roaring as\\nif we were in the midst of furnaces. And if we came\\nnear the cracks the heat was powerful in our faces, and\\nif we thrust our sticks down them they were instantly\\n)urned and the guides cooked eggs and the crust was\\n,hin, and very hot to our boots and half the time we\\nwouldn t see any thing and we would rush away where\\nthe vapor was not so thick, and, with handkerchiefs to our\\n^nouths, rush in again to get the full efiect. After we", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "CLIMBING A VOLCANO. 207\\ncame out again into better air, it was as if we had been\\nthrough the burning, fiery furnace, and had the smell\\nof it on our garments. And, indeed, the sulphur had\\nchanged to red certain of our clothes, and noticeably my\\npantaloons and the black velvet cap of one of the ladies\\nand it was some days before they recovered their color.\\nBut, as I say, there was no sense of danger in the adven-\\nture.\\nWe descended by a different route, on the south side\\nof the mountain, to our horses, and made a lark of it.\\nWe went down an ash slope, very steep, where we sank\\nin a foot or little less at every step, and there was noth-\\ning to do for it, but to run and jump. We took steps as\\nlong as if we had worn seven-league boots. When the\\nwhole party got in motion, the entire slope seemed to\\nslide a little with us, and there appeared some danger of\\nan avalanche. But we didn t stop for it. It was exactly\\nlike plunging down a steep hillside that is covered\\nthickly with Tight, soft snow. There was a gray-haired\\ngentleman with us, with a good deal of the boy in him,\\nwho thought it great fun.\\nI have said httle about the view but I might have\\nwritten about nothing else, both in the ascent and de-\\nscent. Naples, and all the villages which rim the bay\\nwith white, the gracefully-curving arms that go out to\\nsea, and do not quite clasp rocky Capri, which lies at\\nthe entrance, made the outline of a picture of sur-\\npassing loveliness. But, as we came down, tliere was\\na sigh? that I am sure was unique. As one in a balloon\\nsees the earth concave beneath, so, now, from where we\\nstood, it seemed to rise, not fall, to the sea, and all the\\nwhite villages were raised to the clouds and, by the\\npeculiar light, the sea looked exactly like sky, and the\\nnttle boats ^on it seemed to float, like balloons in the air\\nThe illusion was perfect. As the day waned, a heavy\\ncloud hid the sun, and so let down the light that the\\nwaters were a dark purple. Then the sun went behind\\nPosilipo in a perfect blaze of scarlet, and all the sea was", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "2o8 CLIMBING A VOLCANO.\\nviolet. Only it still was not the sea at all but the\\nlittle chopping waves looked like flecked clouds and it\\nwas exactly as if one of the violet, cloud-beautified skies\\nthat we see at home over some sunsets had fallen to the\\nground. And the slant white sails and the black specks\\nof boats on it hung in the sky, and were as unsubstantial\\nas the whole pageant. Capri alone was dark and solid.\\nAnd as we descended and a high wall hid it, a little\\nhandsome rascal, who had attended me for an hour, now\\nat the head and now at the tail of my pony, recalled me\\nto the realities by the request that I should give him a\\nfranc. For what For carrying signor s coat up the\\nmountain. I rewarded the little liar with a German\\ncopper. I had carried my own overcoat all day.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "SORRENTO DAYS.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "OUTLINES.\\nTHE day came when we tired of the brilliancy and din\\nof Naples, most noisy of cities. Neapolis, or Par-\\nthenope, as is well known, was founded by Parthenope, a\\n\u00c2\u00abiren who was cast ashore there. Her descendants still\\nlive here and we have become a little weary of their\\ninherited musical ability they have learned to play upon\\nmany new instruments, with which they keep us awake\\nlate at night, and arouse us early in the morning. One\\nof them is always there under the window, where the\\nmoonhght will strike him, or the early dawn will light\\nup his love-worn visage, strumming the guitar with his\\nhorny thumb, and wailing through his nose as if his\\nthroat was full of sea-weed. He is as inexhaustible as\\nVesuvius. We shall have to flee, or stop our ears with\\nwax, like the sailors of Ulysses.\\nThe day came when we had checked off the Posilipo,\\nand the Grotto, Pozzuoli, Baise, Cape Misenum, the\\nMuseum, Vesuvius, Pompeii, Herculaneum, the moderns\\nburied at the Campo Santo; and we said. Let us go and\\nlie in the sun at Sorrento. But first let us settle our\\ngeography.\\nThe Bay of Naples, painted and sung forever, but\\nnever adequately, must consent to be here described as\\nessentially a parallelogram, with an opening towards the\\nsouth-west. The north-east side of this, with Naples in\\nthe right-hand c )rner, looking seaward, and Castellamare\\nin the left-hand cornei, at a distance of some fourteen\\nmiles, is a vast rich plain, fringed on the shore with\\n^11", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "212 OUTLIN\u00c2\u00a3.S.\\ntowns, and covered with white houses and o-ardens. Out\\nDf this rises the isolated bulk of Vesuvids. This grow\\ning mountain is manufactured exactly like an ant-hill.\\nThe north-west side of the bay, keeping a general\\nwesterly direction, is very uneven, with headlands, deeji\\nbays, and outlying islands. First comes the promontory\\nof Posilipo, pierced by two tunnels, partly natural and\\npartly Greek and Roman work, above the entiance of\\none of which is the tomb of Virgil, let us believe then\\na beautiful bay, the shore of which is incrusted with\\nclassic ruins. On this bay stands Pozzuoli, the ancient\\nPuteoli where St. Paul landed one May day, and doubt-\\nless walked up this paved road, which leads direct to\\nRome. At the entrance, near the head of Posilipo, is\\nthe volcanic island of shining Nisida, to which Brutus\\nretired after the assassination of Caesar, and where he\\nbade Portia good-by before he departed for Greece and\\nPhilippi the favorite villa of Cicero, where he wrote\\nmany of his letters to Atticus, looked on it. Baise,\\nepitome of the luxury and profligacy, of the splendor and\\ncrime, of the most sensual years of the Roman empire,\\nspread there its temples, palaces, and pleasure-gardens,\\nwhich crowded the low slopes, and extended over the\\nwater and yonder is Cape Misenum, which sheltered\\nthe great fleets of Rome.\\nThis region, which is still shaky from fires bubbling\\nunder the thin crust, through which here and there the\\nsulphurous vapor breaks out, is one of the most sacred\\nin the ancient world. Here are the Lucrine Lake, the\\nElysian Fields, the cave of the Curaean Sibyl, and the\\nLake Avernus. This entrance to the infernal regions\\nwas frozen over the day I saw it so that the profane\\nprophecy of skating on the bottomless pit might have\\nbeen realized. The Islands of Procida and Ischia con-\\ntinue and complete this side of the bay, which is about\\ntwenty niiles long as the boat sails.\\nAt Castellamare the shore makes a sharp bend, an(?\\nmns south-west along the side of the Sorrentine Prom", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "OUTLINFS. 213\\nontory. This promontory is a high, rocky, diversified\\nridge, wi ich extends out between the Bays of Naples and\\nSalerno, with its short and precipitous slope towards the\\nlatter. Below Castellamare, the mountain ram,ge of the\\nGreat St. Angelo (an offshoot of the Apennines) runs\\nacross the peninsula, and cuts off that portion of it which\\nwe have to consider. The most conspicuous of the\\nthree parts of this short range is over four thousand\\nseven hundred feet above the Bay of Naples, and the\\nhighest land on it. From Great St. Angelo to the point,\\nthe Punta di Campanella, it is, perhaps, twelve miles by\\nballoon, but twenty by any other conveyance. Three\\nmiles off this point lies Capri.\\nThis promontory has a backbone of rocky ledges and\\nhills but it has, at intervals, transverse ledges and\\nridges, and deep valleys and chains cutting in from either\\nside so that it is not very passable in any direction.\\nThese little valleys and bays are warm nooks for the olive\\nand the orange and all the precipices and sunny slopes\\nare terraced nearly to the top. This promontory of\\nrocks is far from being barren.\\nFrom Castellamare, driving along a winding, rock-cut\\nroad by the bay, one of the most charming in South-\\nern Italy, a distance of seven miles, we reach the\\nPunta di Scutolo. This point, and the opposite head-\\nland, the Capo di Sorrento, enclose the Piano di Sorrento,\\nan irregular plain, three miles long, encircled by lime-\\nstone hills, which protect it from the east and south\\nwinds. In this amphitheatre it lies, a mass of green\\nfoliage and white villages, fronting Naples and Vesuvius.\\nIf Nature first scooped out this nook level with the sea,\\nand then filled it up to a depth of two hundred to three\\nhundred feet with volcanic tufa, forming a precipice of\\nthat height along the shore, I can understand how the\\npresent state of things came about.\\nThis plain is not all level, however. Decided spurs\\npush down into it from the hills and great chasms, deep,\\nragged, impassable, split in the tufa, extend up into if", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "214 OUTLINES.\\nfrom the sea. At intervals, at the openings of these\\nravines, are little marinas, where the fishermen have their\\nhuts, and where their boats land. Little villages, sepa-\\nrate froiji the world, abound on tlipse marinas. The\\nwarm volcanic soil of the sheltered plain makes it a para-\\ndise of fruits and flowers.\\nSorrento, ancient and romantic city, lies at the south-\\nwest end of this plain, built along the sheer sea preci-\\npice, and running back to the hills, ^^a city of such\\nnarrow streets, high walls, and luxuriant groves, that it\\ncan only be seen from the heights adjacent. The ancient\\nboundary of the city proper was the famous ravine on\\nthe east side, a similar ravine on the south, which met it\\nat right angles, and was supplemented by a high Roman\\nwall, and the same wall continued on the west to the\\nsea. The growing town has pushed away the wall on\\nthe west side but that on the south yet stands as good\\nas when the Romans made it. There is a little attempt\\nat a mall, with double rows of trees, under that wall,\\nwhere lovers walk, and ragged, handsome urchins play\\nthe exciting game of fives, or sit in the dirt, gambling\\nwith cards for the Sorrento currency. I do not know\\nwhat sin it may be to gamble for a bit of printed paper\\nwhich has the value of one sou.\\nThe great ravine, three-quarters of a mile long, the\\nancient boundary which now cuts the town in two, is\\nbridged where the main street, the Corso, crosses, the\\nbridge resting on old Roman substructions, as every thing\\nelse about here does. This ravine, always invested with\\nmystery, is the theme of no end of poetry and legend.\\nDemons inhabit it. Here and there, in its perpendicu-\\nlar sides, steps have been cut for descent. Vines and\\nlichens grow on the walls in one place, at the bottom;\\nan orange-grove has taken root. There is even a mill\\ndown there, where there is breadth enough for a build-\\ning and, altogether, the ravine is not so delivered over\\nto the power of darkness as it used to be. It is still\\ndamp and slimy, it is true but, from above, it is always", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "OUTLINES. 215\\nbeautiful, with its luxuriant growth of vines, and at\\ntwilight mysterious. I like as well, however, to look into\\nits entrance from the little marina, where the old fish-\\nwives are weaving nets.\\nThese little settlements under the cliff, called marinas,\\nare worlds in themselves, picturesque at a distance, but\\nsqualid seen close at hand. They are not very different\\nfrom the little fishing-stations on the Isle of Wight\\nout they are more sheltered, and their inhabitants sing\\nat their work, wear bright colors, and bask in the sun a\\ngood deal, feeling no sense of responsibility for the\\nworld they did not create. To weave nets, to fish in the\\nbay, to sell their fish at the wharves, to eat unexciting\\nvegetables and fish, to drink moderately, to go to the\\nchapel of St. Antonino on Sunday, not to work on fast\\nand feast days, nor more than compelled to any day,\\nthis is life at the marinas. Their world is what they\\ncan see, and Naples is distant and almost foreign. Gen-\\neration after generation is content with the same simple\\nlife. They have no more idea of the bad way the world\\n18 in tlian bees in their cells.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "THE ViLLA NARDl.\\nryillE Villa Nardi hangs over tlie sea. It is built on\\n_1_ a rock, and I know not what Roman and Greek\\nfoundations, and the remains of yet earlier peoples,\\ntraders, and traffickers, whose galleys used to rock there\\nat the base of the cliiF;( where the gentle waves beat even\\nin this winter-time with a summer swing and sound of\\npeace.\\nIt was at the close of a day in January that I first\\nknew the Villa Nardi, a warm, lovely day, at the hour\\nwhen the sun was just going behind the Capo di Sor-\\nrento, in order to disrobe a little, I fancy, before plun-\\nging into the Mediterranean off the end of Capri, as is\\nhis wont about this time of year. When we turned out\\nof the little piazza^ our driver was obliged to take off\\none of our team of three horses driven abreast, so that\\nwe could pass through the narrow and crooked streets,\\nor rather lanes of blank walls. With cracking whip,\\nrattling wheels, and shouting to clear the way, we drove\\ninto the Strada di San Francisca, and to an arched gate-\\nway. This led down a straight path, between olives and\\norange and lemon trees, gleaming with shining leaves\\nand fruit of gold, with hedges of rose-trees in full bloom,\\nto another leafy arch; through which I saw tropical\\ntrees, and a terrace with a low wall and battered busts\\nguarding it, and, beyond, the blue sea, a white sail or\\ntwo slanting across the opening, and the whiteness of\\nNaples some twenty miles away on the shore.\\nThe noble family of the V^illa did not descend int(\u00c2\u00bb\\n216", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "THE VILLA NARDL 217\\nthe garden to welcome us, as we should have liked in\\nfact, they have been absent now for a long time, so long\\nthat even their ghosts, if they ever pace the terrace-walk\\ntowards the convent, would appear strange to one who\\nshould meet them and yet our hostess, the Tramontano,\\ndid what the ancient occupants scarcely could have done,\\ngave us the choice of rooms in the entire house. The\\nstranger who finds himself in this secluded paradise, at\\nthis season, is always at a loss whether to take a room\\non the sea, with all its changeable loveliness, but no sun,\\nor one overlooking the garden, where the sun all day\\npours itself into the orange boughs, and where the birds\\nare just beginning to get up a spring twitteration. My\\nfriend, whose capacity for taking in the luxurious repose\\nof this region is something extraordinary, has tried, I\\nbelieve, nearly every room in the house, and has at length\\ngone u]3 to a solitary room on the top, where, like a bird\\non a tree, he looks all ways, and, so to say, swings in the\\nentrancing air. But, wherever you are, you will grow\\ninto content with your situation.\\nAt the Villa Nardi, we have no sound of wheels, no\\nnoise of work or traffic, no susrsestion of conflict. I am\\nunder the impression that every thing that was to have\\nbeen done has been done. I am, it is true, a little afraid\\nthat the Saracens will come here again, and carry oil\\nmore of the nut-brown girls, who lean over the walls, and\\nlook down on us from under the boughs. I am not quite\\nsure that a French Admiral of the Republic will not\\nsome morning anchor his three-decker in front, and open\\nfire on us; but nothing else can happen. Naples is a\\nthousand miles away. The boom of the saluting guns\\nof Castel Nuovo is to us scarcely an echo of modern life.\\nRome does not exist. And, as for London and New\\nYork, they send their people and their newspapers here.\\nhut no pulse of unrest from them disturbs our tranquil-\\nlity. Hemmed in on the land side by luii,h walls, groves,\\nand gardens, perched upon a rock two hundred feet above\\nvlie water, how much more secure O om invasion is thia", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "ii8 THE VILLA NARDL\\nthan any fabled island of the southern sea, or any lemote\\nstream where the boats of the lotus-eaters float\\nThere is a little terrace and flower-plat, where we\\nsometimes sit, and over the wall of which we like to lean,\\nand look down the cliff to the sea. This terrace is the\\ncommon ground of many exotics as well as native trees\\nand shrubs. Here are the magnolia, the laurel, the Jap-\\nanese medlar, the oleander, the pepper, the bay, the\\ndate-palm, a tree called the plumbago, another from the\\nCape of Good Hope, the pomegranate, the elder in full\\nleaf, the olive, salvia, heliotrope close by is a banana-\\ntree.\\nI find a good deal of companionship in the rows of\\nplaster busts that stand on the wall, in all attitudes of\\nlistlessness, and all stages of decay. I thought at first\\nthey were Penates of the premises but better acquaint-\\nance has convinced me that they never were gods, but\\nthe clayey representations of great men and noble dames.\\nThe stains of time are on them some have lost a nose\\nor an ear and one has parted with a still more important\\nmember, his head, an accident that might profitably\\nhave befallen his neighbor, whose curly locks and vil-\\nlanously low forehead proclaim him a Roman emperor.\\nCut in the face of the rock is a walled and winding way\\ndown to the water. I see below the archway where it\\nissues from the underground recesses of our establish-\\nment and there stands a bust, in serious expectation that\\nsome one will walk out and saunter down among the\\nocks but no one ever does. Just at the right is a little\\noeach, Avith a few old houses, and a mimic stir of life, a\\nlittle curve in the cliff, the mouth of the gorge, where\\nthe waves come in with a lazy swash. Some fishing-\\nboats ride there and the shallow water, as I look down\\nthis sunny morning, is thickly strewn with floating peels\\nof oranges and lemons, as if some one was brewing a\\ngigantic bowl of punch. And there is an uncommon stir\\nof life for a schooner is shipping a cargo of oranges, and\\nthe entire population is in a clamor. Donkeys are com", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "THE VILLA NARDL 219\\nIng down the winding way, witli aheavy basket on either\\nflank stout girls are stepping lightly dowa with loads\\non their heads the drivers shout, the donkeys bray, the\\npeople jabber and order each other about; and the\\noranges, in a continual stream, are poured into the long,\\nnarrow vessel, rolling in with a thud, until there is a yei-\\nlow mass of them. Shouting, scolding, singing, and bray-\\ning, all come up to me a little mellowed. The disorder\\nis not so great as on the opera stage of San Carlo in\\nNaples and the effect is much more pleasing.\\nThis settlement, the marina, under the cliff, used to\\nextend along the shore and a good road ran down\\nthere close by the water. The rock has split off, and\\ncovered it and perhaps the shore has sunk. They tell\\nme that those who dig down in the edge of the shallow\\nwater find sunken walls, and the remains of old founda*\\ntions of Roman workmanship. People who wander there\\npick up bits of marble, serpentine, and malachite,\\nremains of the palaces that long ago fell into the sea, and\\nhave not left even the names of their owners and build-\\ners, the ancient loafers who idled away their days as\\neverybody must in this seductive spot. Not far from\\nhere, they point out the veritable caves of the Sirens,\\nwho have now shut up house, and gone away, like the\\nrest of the nobility. If I had been a mariner in their day,\\nI should have made no effort to sail by and away from\\ntheir soothing shore.\\nI went, one day, through a long, sloping arch, near\\nthe sailors Chapel of St. Antonino, past a pretty shrine\\nof the Virgin, down the zigzag path to this little\\nmarina but it is better to be content with looking at\\nit from above, and imagining how delightful it would be\\nto push off in one of the little tubs of boats. Sometimes,\\nat night, I hear the fishermen coming home, singing in\\nrtieir lusty fashion and I think it is a good haven to\\narrive at. I never go down to search for stones on the\\nbeach I like to believe that there are great treasures\\n\u00c2\u00abliere, whi ?h I might find and I know that the green", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "220 THE VILLA NARDL\\nand brown and spotty appearance of the water is causf*4\\nby the showing thiou^h of the pavements of courts, and\\nmarble floors of p2,iaces, which might vanish if I wont\\nnearer, such a place of illusion is this.\\nThe Villa ISardi stands in pleasant relations to Vesu-\\ndas, which is just across the bay, and is not so useless\\nas it has been represented it is our weather-sign and\\nprophet. When the white plume on his top floats inlai/d,\\nthat is one sort of weather when it streams out to sea,\\nthat is another. But I can never tell which is which\\nnor in my experience does it much matter for it seems\\nimpossible for Sorrento to do any thing but woo us with\\ngentle weather. But the use of Vesuvius, after all, is to\\nfurnish us a backo;round for the violet lio;ht at sundown,\\nwhen the villages at its foot gleam like a silver fringe.\\nI have become convinced of one thing it is always best\\nwhen you build a house to have it iront toward a vol-\\ncano, if you can. There is just that lazy activity about\\na volcano, ordinarily, that satisfies your demand for\\nsomething that is not exactly dead, and yet does not\\ndisturb you.\\nSometimes when I wake in the night, though I\\ndon t know why one ever wakes in the night, or the\\ndaytime either here, I hear the bell of the convent,\\nwhich is in our demesne, a convent which is sup-\\npressed, and where I hear, when I pass in the morning,\\nthe humming of a school. At first, I tried to count the\\nhour but, when the bell went on to strike seventeen,\\nand even twenty-one o clock, the absurdity of the thing\\ncame over me, and I wondered whether it was some\\nfrequent call to prayer for a feeble band of sisters rci-\\nmaining, some reminder of midnight penance and vigilj\\nor whether it was not something more ghostly than that,\\nand was not responded to by shades of nuns, who were\\nwont to look out from their narrow latticed windows\\nupon these same gardens, as long ago as when the beau-\\ntiful Queen Joanna used to come down here to re])en*\\nif she ever did repent of her wanton ways in Naples", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "THE VILLA NaRDI. 221\\nOn one side of the garden is a suppressed monastery.\\nThe narrow front towards the sea has a secluded little\\nbalcony, where I like to fancy the poor, orphaned souls\\nused to steal out at night for a breath of fresh air, and\\nperhaps to see, as I did one dark evening, Naples with\\nits lights like a conflagration on the horizon. Upon the\\ntiles of the parapet are cheerful devices, the crossbones\\ntied with a cord, and the like. How many heavy-\\nhearted recluses have stood in that secluded nook, and\\nbeen tempted by the sweet, lulling sound of the waves\\nbelow how many have paced along this narrow terrace,\\nand felt like prisoners who wore paths in the stone floor\\nwhere they tread and how many stupid louts have\\nwalked there, insensible to all the charm of it\\nIf I pass into the Tramontano garden, it is not to\\nescape the presence of history, or to get into the modern\\nworld, where travellers are arriving, and where there is\\nthe bustle and the proverbial discontent of those who\\ntravel to enjoy themselves. In the pretty garden, which\\nis a constant surprise of odd nooks and sunny hiding-\\nplaces, with ruins, and most luxuriant ivy, is a little\\ncottage where, I am told in confidence, the young king\\nof Bavaria slept three nights not very long ago. I hope\\nhe slept well. But more important than the sleep, or\\neven death, of a king, is the birth of a poet, I take it\\nand within this enclosure, on the eleventh day of March,\\n1541, Torquato Tasso, most melancholy of men, first saw\\nthe light and here was born his noble sister Cornelia,\\nJie descendants of whose union with the cavalier Spa-\\nsiano still live here, and in a manner keep the memory\\nof the poet green with the present generation. I am\\nindebted to a gentleman who is of this lineage for many\\nfavors, and for precise information as to the position in\\nthe house that stood here of the very room in which\\nlasso was born. It is also minutely given in a memoir\\nj f Tasso and his family, by Bartolommeo Capasso, whose\\njareful researches have disproved the slipshod statements\\nof the guide-books, that the poet was born in a house", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "E22 THE VILLA NARDL\\nwhich is still standing, farther to the west, and that\\nthe room has fallen into the sea. The descendant of\\nthe sister pointed out to me the spot on the terrace of the\\nTramontane where the room itself was, when the house\\nstill stood and, of course, seeing is believing. The sun\\nshone full upon it, as we stood there and the air was\\nfull of the scent of tropical fruit and just-coming blos-\\nsoms. One could not desire a more tranquil scene of\\nadvent into li|p and the wandering, broken-hearted\\nauthor of Jerusalem Delivered never found at court\\nor palace any retreat so soothing as that offered him\\nhere by his steadfast sister.\\nIf I were an antiquarian, I think I should have had\\nTasso born at the Villa Nardi, where I like best to stay,\\nand where I find traces of many pilgrims from other\\ncountries. Here, in a little corner-room on the terrace,\\nMrs. Stowe dreamed and wrote; and I expect, every\\nmorning, as I take my morning sun here by the gate,\\nAgnes of Sorrento will come down the sweet-scented\\npath with a basket of oranges on her head.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "SEA AND SHORE.\\nIT is not always easy, when one stands upon the high-\\nlands which encircle the Piano di Sorrento, in some\\nconditions of the atmosphere, to tell where the sea ends,\\nand the sky begins. It seems practicable, at such times,\\nfor one to take ship, and sail up into heaven. I have\\noften, indeed, seen white sails climbing up there, and\\nfishing-boats, at secure anchor I suppose, riding appar-\\nently like balloons in the hazy air. Sea and air and land\\nhere are all kin, I suspect, and have certain immaterial\\nqualities in common. The contours of the shores and\\nthe outhnes of the hills are as graceful as the mobile\\nwaves and if there is anywhere ruggedness and sharp-\\nness, the atmosphere throws a friendly veil over it, and\\ntones all that is inharmonious into the repose of beauty.\\nThe atmosphere is really something more than^ a\\nmedium it is a drapery, woven, one could affirm, with\\ncolors, or dipped in Oriental dyes. One might account\\nthus for the prismatic colors I have often seen on the\\nhorizon at noon, when the sun was pouring down floods\\nof clear, golden light. The simple light here, if one\\ncould ever represent It by pen, pencil, or brush, would\\ndraw the world hither to bathe in it. It is not thin\\nsunshine, but a royal profusion, a golden substance, a\\ntransforming quality, a vesture of splendor for all these\\nMediterranean shores.\\nThe most comprehensive idea of Sorrento and the great\\nplain on which it stands, embedded almost out of sight\\nin foliage, we obtained one day from our boat, as we put\\n223", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "224 SHORE.\\nout round llie Capo di Sorrento, and stood away for\\nCapri. There was not wind enough for sails but there\\nwere chopping waves, and swell enough to toss us about,\\nand to produce bright flashes of light far out at sea. The\\nred-shirted rowers silently bent to their long sweeps;\\nand I lay in the tossing bow, and studied the high, reced-\\ning shore. The picture is simple, a precipice of rock\\nor earth, faced with masonry in spots, almost of uniform\\nheight from point to point of the little bay, except where\\na deep gorge has split the rock, and comes to the sea,\\nforming a cove, where a cluster of rude buildings is likely\\nto gather. Along the precipice, which now juts and now\\nrecedes a little, are villas, hotels, old convents, gardens,\\nand groves. I can see steps and galleries cut in the face\\nof the cliff, and caves and caverns, natural and artificial\\nfor one can cut this tufa with a knife and it would\\nhardly seem preposterous to attempt to dig out a cool,\\nroomy mansion in this rocky front with a spade.\\nAs we pull away, I begin to see the depth of the plain\\nof Sorrento, with its villages, walled roads, its groves of\\noranges, olives, lemons, its figs, pomegranates, almonds,\\nmulberries, and acacias; and soon the terraces above,\\nwhere the vineyards are planted, and the olives also.\\nThese terraces must be a brave sight in spring, when the\\nmasses of olives are white as snow with blossoms, which\\nfill all the plain with their sweet perfume. Above the\\nterraces, the eye reaches the fine outline of the hill and,\\nto the east, the bare precipice of rock, softened by the\\npurple light and turning still to the left, as the boat\\nlazily swings, I have Vesuvius, the graceful dip into the\\nplain, and the rise to the heights of Naples, Nisida, the\\nshining houses of Pozzuoli, Cape Misenum, Procida, and\\nrough Ischia. Rounding the headland, Capri is before\\nus, so sharp and clear that we seem close to it but it ia\\na weary pull before we get unaar its rocky side.\\nReturning from Capri late in the afternoon, we had\\none of those effects which are the despair of artists. J\\nhad been told that twilights are short here, and that", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "SEA AND SHORE. 225\\nw^heti the sim disappeared, color vanished from the sky.\\nThere was a wonderful light on all the inner bay, ag\\nwe put off from shore. Ischia was one mass of violet\\ncolor. As we got from under the island, there was the\\nsun, a red ball of fire, just dipping into the sea. At once\\nthe whole horizon line of water became a bright crimson,\\nwhich deepened as the evening advanced, glowing with\\nmore intense fire, and holding a broad band of what\\nseemed solid color, for more than three-quarters of an\\nhour. The colors, meantime, on the level water, never\\nwere on painter s palette, and never were counterfeited\\nby the changeable silks of Eastern looms and this gor-\\ngeous spectacle continued till the stars came out, crowd-\\ning the sky with silver points.\\nOur boatmen, who had been re-enforced at Capri, and\\nwere inspired either by the wine of the island or the\\nbeauty of the night, pulled with new vigor, and broke\\nout again and again into the wild songs of this coast. A\\nfavorite was the Garibaldi song, which invariably ended\\nin a cheer and a tiger, and threw the singers into such a\\nspurt of excitement that the oars forgot to keep time, and\\nthere was more splash than speed. The singers all sang\\nsne part in minor there was no harmony, the voices\\nwere not rich, and the melody was not remarkable but\\nthere was, after all, a wild pathos in it. Music is very\\nmuch here what it is in Naples. I have to keep saying\\nto myself that Italy is the land of song else I should\\nthink that the people mistake noise for music.\\nThe boatmen are an honest set of fellows, as Italians\\ngo; and, let us hope, not unworthy followers of their\\npatron, St. Antonino, whose chapel is on the edge of the\\ngorge near the Villa Nardi. A silver image of the saint,\\naalf life-size, stands upon die rich marble altar. Thia\\nvaluable statue has been, if tradition is correct, five\\ntimes captured and carried away by marauders, who\\nhave at different times sacked Sorrento of its marbles,\\nbronzes, and precious things, and each time, by some\\nmysterious providence, has found its way back again,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "226 SEA AND SHORE.\\nan instance of constancy in a solid silver image wliicli ig\\nworthy of commendation. The little chapel is hung all\\nabout with votive offerings in wax of arms, legs, heads,\\nhands, effigies, and with coarse lithographs, in frames, of\\nstorms at sea and perils of ships, hung up by sailors who,\\nhaving escaped the dangers of the deep, offer these tri-\\nbutes to their dear saint. The skirts of the image are\\nworn quite smooth with kissing. Underneath it, at the\\nback of the altar, an oil light is always burning and\\nbelow repose the bones of the holy man.\\nThe whole shore is fascinating to one in an idle mood,\\nand is good mousing ground for the antiquarian. For\\nmyself, I am content with one generalization, which I\\nfind saves a world of bother and perplexity it is quite\\nsafe to style every excavation, cavern, circular wall, or\\narch by the sea, a Roman bath. It is the final resort of\\nthe antiquarians. This theory has kept me from enter-\\ning the discussion, whether the substructions in the cliff\\nunder the Poggio Syracuse, a royal villa, are temples of\\nthe Sirens, or caves of Ulysses. I only know that I\\ndescend to the sea there by broad interior flights of steps,\\nwhich lead through galleries and corridors, and high,\\nvaulted passages, whence extend apartments and caves\\nfar reaching into the solid rock. At intervals are land-\\nings, where arched windows are cut out to the sea, with\\nstone seats and protecting walls. At the base of the\\ncliff, I find a hewn passage, as if there had once been\\nhere a way of embarkation and enormous fragments of\\nrocks, with steps cut in them, which have fallen from\\nabove.\\nWere ^lieoe any thing more than royal pleasure gal-\\nleries, whare one could sit in coolness in the heat of sum-\\nmer, and look on the bay and its shipping, in the days\\nwhen the great Roman fleet used to lie opposite, above\\nthe point of Misenum How many brave and gay ret-\\ninues have swept down these broad interior stairways,\\nlet us say in the picturesque Middle Ages, to embark ov\\nvoyages of pleasure or warlike forays The steps are", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": ":sea ^nd shore. 227\\nwrell worn, and must have been trodden for ages, by\\nnobles and robbers, peasants and sailors, priests of more\\nthan one religion, and traders of many seas, who have\\ngone, and left no record. The sun was slanting his last\\nrays into the corridors as I musingly looked down from\\none of the arched openings, quite spell-bound by the\\nstrangeness and dead silence of the place, broken only\\nby the plash of waves on the sandy beach below. I had\\nfound my way down through a wooden door half ajar\\nand I thought of the possibility of some one s shutting it\\nfor the night, and leaving me a prisoner to await the\\nspectres which I have no doubt throng here when it grows\\ndark. Hastening up out of these* chambers of the past,\\nI escaped into the upper air, and walked rapidly home\\nthrough the na* row orange lanes.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "ON TOP OF THE HOUSE.\\nTHE tip-top of the Villa Nardi is a flat roof, with a\\nwall about it three feet high, and some little tur-\\nreted affairs, that look very much like chimneys. Joseph,\\nthe gray-haired servitor, has brought my chair and table\\nup here to-day and here I am, established to write.\\nI am here above most earthly annoyances, and on a\\nlevel with the heavenly influences. It has always seemed\\nto me that the higher one gets, the easier it must be to\\nwrite and that, especially at a great elevation, one could\\nstrike into lofty themes, and launch out, without fear of\\nshipwreck on any of the earthly headlands, in his aerial\\nvoyages. Yet, after all, he would be likely to arrive\\nnowhere, I suspect or, to change the figure, to find, that,\\nin parting with the taste of the earth, he had produced a\\nflavorless composition. If it were not for the haze in the\\nhorizon to-day, I could distinguish the very house in\\nNaples that of Manso, Marquis of Villa where Tasso\\nfound a home, and where John Milton was entertained\\nat a later day by that hospitable nobleman. I wonder,\\nif he had come to the Villa Nardi and written on the\\nroof, if the theological features of his epic would liave\\nbeen softened, and if he would not have received new\\nsuggestions for the adornment of the garden. Of course,\\nit is well that his immortal y)roduction was not composed\\non this roofj and in s ght of these seductive shores, or it\\nwould have been more strongly flavored with classic\\nmythology than it is. But, letting Milton go, it may be\\nnecessary to E;ay, that my writing to-day has nothing tQ\\n228", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "ON TOP OF THE HOUSE. 229\\ndo with my theory of composition in an elevated posi-\\ntion for this is the laziest place that I have yet found.\\nI am above the highest olive-trees and, if I turned\\nthat way, should look over the tops of what seems a vast\\ngrove of them, out of which a white roof, and an old\\ntime-eaten tower here and there, appears and the sun\\nis flooding them with waves of light, which I think a\\nperson delicately enough organized could hear beat.\\nBeyond the brown roots of the town, the terraced hills\\narise, in semi-circular embrace of the plain and the fine\\nveil over them is partly the natural shimmer of the heat,\\nand partly the silver duskiness of the olive-leaves. I sit\\nwith my back to all this, taking the entire force of this\\nwinter sun which is full of life and genial heat, and\\ndoes not scorch one, as I remember such a full flood of it\\nwould at home. ]t is putting sweetness, too, into the\\noranges which, I observe, are getting redder and softer\\nday by day. We have here, by the way, such a habit\\nof taking up an orange, weighing it in the hand, and\\nguessing if it is ripe, that the test is extending to other\\nthings. I saw a gentleman this morning, at breakfast,\\nweio-hing an eo^g in the same manner and some one\\nasked him if it was ripe.\\nIt seems to me that the Mediterranean was never\\nbluer than it is to-day. It has a shade or two tlie advan-\\ntage of the sky though I like the sky best, after all for\\nit is less opaque, and offers an illimitable ojDportunity of\\nexploration. Perhaps this is because I am nearer to it.\\nThere are some little ruffles of air on the sea, which J\\ndo not feel here, making broad spots of shadow, and here\\nand there flecks and sparkles. But the schooners sail\\nidly and the fishing-boats that have put out from the\\nmarina float in the most dreamy manner. I fear that\\nthe fishermen who have made a show of industry, and\\ngot away from their wives, who are ])usily weaving nets\\non shore, are yielding to the seductions of the occasion,\\nand making a day of it. And, as I look at them, I found\\nmvself debating which I would rather be, a fishermac\\n20", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "230 ON TOP OF THE HOUSE.\\nthere in the boat, rocked by the swell, and warmed by\\nthe sun, or a friar, on the terrace of the garden on the\\nsummit of Deserto, lying perfectly tranquil, and also\\nsoaked in the sun. There is one other person, now that\\nI think of it, who may be having a good time to-day,\\nthough I do not know that I envy him. His business is a\\nnew one to me, and is an occupation that one would not\\ncare to recommend to a friend until he had tried it it is\\nbeing carried about in a basket. As I went up the new\\nMassa road the other day, I met a ragged, stout, and\\nrather dirty woman, with a large shallow basket on her\\nhead. In it lay her husband, a large man, though I\\nthink a little abbreviated as to his legs. The woman\\nasked alms. Talk of Diogenes in his tub How must\\nthe world look to a man in a basket, riding about on his\\nwife s head When I returned, she had put him down\\nbeside the road in the sun, and almost in danger of the\\npassing vehicles. I suppose that the affectionate creature\\nthought, that, if he got a new injury in this way, his\\nsralue in the beggar market would be increased. I do\\nnot mean to do this exemplary wife any injustice and I\\nonly suggest the idea in this land, where every beggar\\nwho is born with a deformity has something to thank the\\nVirgin for. This custom !)f carrying your husband on\\nyour head in a basket has something to recommend it,\\nand is an exhibition of faith on the one hand, and of\\ndevotion on the other, that is seldom met with. Its\\nconsideration is commended to my countrywomen at\\nhome. It is, at least, a new commentary on the apos-\\ntolic remark, that the man is the head of the woman;\\nIt is, in some respects, a happy division of labor in the\\nwalk of life she furnishes the locomotive power, and he\\nthe directing brains, as he lies in the sun and looks\\nabroad which reminds me that the sun is getting hot\\non my back. The little bunch of bells in the convent\\ntower is jangling out a suggestion of worship, or of th(?\\ndeparture of the hours. It is time to eat an orange.\\nVesuvius appears to be about on a level with my eyes", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "ON TOP OF THE HOUSE. 231\\nRnd I never knew him to do liimself more credit than to-\\nday. The whole coast of the bay is in a sort of obscura-\\ntion, thicker than an Indian summer haze and the veil\\nextends almost to the top of Vesuvius. But his summit\\nis still distinct and out of it rises a gigantic billowy\\ncolumn of white smoke, greater in quantity than on any\\nprevious day of our sojourn and the sun turns it to sil-\\nver. Above a long line of ordinary-looking clouds, float\\ngreat white masses, formed of the sulphurous vapor.\\nThis manufacture of clouds in a clear, sunny day has an\\nodd appearance but it is easy enough, if one has such\\na laboratory as Vesuvius. Plow it tumbles up the white\\nsmoke I It is piled up now, I should say, a thousand\\nIcet above the crater, straight into the blue sky, a\\npillar of cloud by day. One might sit here all day,\\nwatching it, listening the while to the melodious spring\\nsinging of the hundreds of birds which have come to\\ntake possession of the garden, receiving Southern re-\\nenforcements from Sicily and Tunis ever}- morning, and\\nthink he was happy. But the morning has gone and J\\nhave written nothing.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "THE PRICE OF ORANGES.\\nTF ever a Nortliern wanderer could be suddenly trans-\\nported to look down upon the Piano di Sorrento, be\\nwould not doubt that be saw the Garden of tbe Hes-\\nperides. Tbe orange-trees cannot well be fuller tbeir\\nbrancbes bend witb tbe weigbt of fruit. Witb tbe\\nalmond-trees in full flower, and witb tbe silver sbeen of\\ntbe olive leaves, tbe oranges are apples of gold in pic-\\ntures of silver. As I walk in tbese sunken roads, and\\nbetween tbese bigb walls, tbe orange boughs everywhere\\nhang over and, through tbe open gates of villas, I look\\ndown alleys of golden glimmer, roses and geraniums by\\nthe walk, and tbe fruit above, gardens of enchantment,\\nwith never a dragon, that I can see, to guard them.\\nAll tbe highways and the byways, the streets and\\nlanes, wherever I go, from the sea to the tops of tbe\\nbills, are strewn with orange-peel; so that one, looking\\nabove and below, comes back from a walk with a golden\\ndazzle in his eyes, a sense that yellow is the prevail-\\ning color. Perhaps tbe kerchiefs of the dark-skinned\\ngirls and women, which take that tone, help tbe impres-\\nsion. The inhabitants are all orano-e-eaters. The bio;b\\nwalls show that tbe gardens are protected with great\\ncare yet the fruit seems to be as free as apples are in a\\nremote New-England town about cider-time.\\nI have been trying, ever since I have been here, to\\nascertain the price of oranges not for purj^oses of ex-\\nportation, nor yet for the personal importation that I\\nilaily practise, but in order to give an American basis\\n232", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "THE PRICE OF ORANGES. 233\\nof fact to these idle chapters. In all the paths, I meet,\\ndaily, girls and boys bearinpj on their heads large baskets\\nof the fruit, and little children with bags and bundles\\nof the same, as large as they can stagger under and I\\nunderstand they are carrying them to the packers, who\\nBhip them to New York, or to the depots, where I see\\nthem lying in yellow heaps, and where men and women\\nare cutting them up, and removing the peel, which goes\\nto England for preserves. I am told that these oranges\\nare sold for a couple of francs a hundred. That seems\\nto me so dear that I am not tempted into any speculation,\\nbut stroll back to the Tramontano, in the gardens of\\nwhich I find better terms.\\nThe only trouble is to find a sweet tree for the Sor-\\nrento oranges are usually sour in February; and one\\nneeds to be a good judge of the fruit, and know the male\\norange from the female, though which it is that is the\\nsweeter I can never remember (and should not dare to\\nsay, if I did, in the present state of feeling on the woman\\nquestion), or he might as well eat a lemon. The\\nmercenary aspect of my query does not enter in here.\\nI climb into a tree, and reach out to the end of the\\nbranch for an orange that has got reddish in the sun,\\nthat comes off easily and is heavy or I tickle a large\\none on the top bough with a cane pole and if it drops\\nreadily, and has a fine grain, I call it a cheap one. I\\ncan usually tell whether they are good, by splitting them\\nopen and eating a quarter. The Italians pare their\\noi anges as we do apples but I like best to open them\\nfirst, and see the yellow meat in the white casket. After\\nyou have eaten a few from one tree, you can usually tell\\nwhether it is a good tree but there is nothing certain\\n^bout it, one bough that gets the sun will be better\\nthan another that does not, ard one-half of an orange\\nwill fill your mouth with more delicious juices than the\\nVther half.\\nThe oranges that you knock off with your stick, aa\\nrou walk along the lanes, don t cost any thing but they\\n20*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "234 THE PRICE OF ORANGES.\\nare always sour, as I think the girls know who lean over\\nthe wall, and look on with a smile and, in that, they\\nare more sensible than the lively dogs which bark at you\\nfrom the top, and wake all the neighborhood with their\\nclamor. I have no doubt the oranges have a market\\nprice but I have been seeking the value the gardeners\\nset on them themselves. As I walked towards the\\nheights, the other morning, and passed an orchard, the\\ngardener, who saw my ineffectual efforts, with a very\\nlong cane, to reach the boughs of a tree, came down to\\nme with a basketful he had been picking. As an exper-\\niment on the price, I offered him a two-centime piece,\\nwhich is a sort of satire on the very name of money,\\nwhen he desired me to help myself to as many oranges\\nas I liked. He was a fine-looking fellow, with a spick-\\nspan new red Phrygian cap and I hadn t the heart\\nto take advantage of his generosity, especially as his\\noranges were not of the sweetest. One ought never to\\nabuse generosity.\\nAnother experience was of a different sort, and illus-\\ntrates the Italian love of bargaining, and their notion of\\na sliiiing scale of prices. One of our expeditions to the\\nhills was one day making its long, straggling way through\\nthe narrow street of a little village of the Piano, when\\nI lingered behind my companions, attracted by a hand-\\ncart with several large baskets of oranges. The cart\\nstood untended in the street and selecting a large\\norange, which would measure twelve inches in circum-\\nference, I turned to look for the owner. After some\\ntime, a fellow got from the open front of the neighboring\\ncobbler s shop, where he sat with his lazy cronies, listen-\\ning to the honest gossip of the follower of St. Crispin\\nand sauntered towards me.\\nHow much for this I ask.\\nOne franc, signor, says the proprietor, with a polite\\nbow, holding up one finger.\\nI shake my head, and intinaate that that is altogeilier\\ntoo much, in fact, preposterous.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "THE PRICE OF ORANGES. 235\\nThe proprietor is very indiJETerent, and shrugs hia\\nshoulders in an amiable manner. He picks up a fair,\\nhandsome orano;e, weighs it in his hand, and holds it up\\ntemptingly. That also is one franc.\\nI suggest one sou as a fair price, a suggestion which\\nhe only receives with a smile of slight pity, and, I fancy,\\na little disdain. A woman joins him, and also holds up\\nthis and that gold-skinned one for my admiration.\\nAs I stand, sorting over the fruit, trying to please\\nmyself with size, color, and texture, a little crowd has\\ngathered round; and I see, by a glance, that all the\\noccupations in that neighborhood, including loafing, are\\ntemporarily suspended to witness the trade. The inter-\\nest of the circle visibly increases and others take such\\na part in the transaction, that I begin to doubt if the\\nfirst man is, after all, the proprietor.\\nAt length I select two oranges, and again demand the\\nprice. There is a little consultation and jabber, when I\\nam told that I can have both for a franc. I, in turn, sigh,\\nshrug my shoulders, and put down the oranges, amid a\\nchorus of exclamations over my graspingness. My offer\\nof two sous is met with ridicule, but not with indiffer-\\nence. I can see that it has made i^ sensation. These\\nsimple, idle children of the sun begin to show a little\\nexcitement. I at length determine upon a bold stroke,\\nand resolve to show myself the Napoleon of oranges, or\\nto meet my Waterloo. I pick out four of the largest\\noranges in the basket, while all eyes are fixed on me\\nintently, and, for the first time, pull out a piece of money.\\nIt is a two-sous piece. I offer it for the four oranges.\\nNo, no, no, no, signor Ah, signor ah, signor in\\na chorus from the whole crowd\\nI have struck bottom at last, and perhaps got some-\\nw^here near the value and all calmness is gone. Such\\nprotestations, such indignation, such sorrow, I have never\\nseen before from so small a cause. It cannot be thought\\n;)f; it is mere ruin! I am, in turn, as firm, aud nearly\\nRs excited in seeming. I hold up the ^ruit, and tendeJ\\nthe money.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "236 THE PRICE OF ORANGES.\\nNo, never, never The signer cannot be in earuest.**\\nLooking; round me for a moment, and assuming- a the-\\niitrical manner, befitting the gestures of those about me\\nI fling tlie fruit down, and, with a sublime renunciation,\\nstalk away.\\nThere is instantly a buzz and a hum that rises almost\\nto a clamor. 1 have not proceeded far, when a skinny\\nold woman runs after me, and beg;s me to return. I go\\nback, and the crowd parts to receive me.\\nThe proprietor has a new proposition, the effect of which\\nupon me is intently watched. He proposes to give me five\\nbig oranges for four sous. I receive it with utter scorn, and\\na laug;li of derision. I will g-ive two sous for the orig;i-\\nnal four, and not a centesimo more. That I solemnly\\nsay, and am ready to depart. Hesitation and renewed\\nconference but at last the proprietor relents and, with\\ntiie look of one who is ruined for life, and who yet is\\nwilling to sacrifice himself, he hands me the oranges.\\nInstantly the excitement is dead, the crowd disperses, and\\nthe street is as quiet as ever when I walk away, bearing\\nmy hard-won treasures.\\nA little while after, as I sat upon the outer wall of the\\nterrace of the Camaldoli, with my feet hanging over,\\nthese same oranges were taken from my pockets by\\nAmericans so that I am prevented from making any\\nmoral reflections upon the honesty of the Italians.\\nThere is an immense g;arden of orang;es and lemons\\nat the villag;e of Massa, throug-h which travellers are\\nshown by a surly fellow, who keeps watch of his trees,\\nand has a bull-dog lurking about for the unwary. I hate\\nto see a bull-dog; in a fruit-orchard. I have eaten a g;ood\\nmany oranges there, and been astonished at the boughs\\nof immense lemons which bend the trees to the ground.\\nI took occasion to measure one of the lemons, called a\\ncitron-lemon, and found its circumference to be twenty-\\nor.e inches one way by fifteen inches the other, aboui\\nas big as x railway-conductor s lantern. Tiiese lemons\\nare not so sour as the fellow who shows them he Is a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "7 HE PRICE OF ORANGES. 237\\npaercenary dog, and his prices afford me no clew to the\\njust value of oranges.\\nI like better to go to a little garden in the village of\\nMeta, under a sunny precipice of rocks, overhung by the\\nruined convent of Camaldoli. I turn up a narrow lane,\\nand push open the wooden door in the garden of a little\\nvilla. It is a pretty garden and, besides the orange\\nand lemon trees on the terrace, it has other fruit-trets,\\nand a scent of many flowers. My friend, the gardener,\\nis sorting oranges from one basket to another, on a green\\nbank, and evidently selling the fruit to some women,\\nwlio are putting it into bags to carry away.\\nWhen he sees me approach, there is always the same\\npantomime. I propose to take some of the fruit he is\\nsorting. With a knowing air, and an appearance of\\ngreat mystery, he raises his left hand, the palm toward\\nme, as one says hush. Having despatched his business,\\nhe takes an empty basket, and with another mysterious\\nflourish, desiring me to remain quiet, he goes to a store-\\nhouse in one corner of the garden, and returns with a\\nload of immense oranges, all soaked with the sun, ripe\\nand fragrant, and more tempting than lumps of gold. I\\ntake one, and ask him if it is sweet. He shrugs his\\nshoulders, raises his hands, and, with a sidewise shake\\nof the head, and a look which says, How can you be so\\nfaithless makes me ashamed of my doubts.\\nI cut the thick skin, which easily falls apart, and dis-\\ncloses the luscious quarters, plump, juicy, and waiting to\\nmelt in the mouth. I look for a moment at the rich pulp\\nin its soft incasement, and then try a delicious morsel.\\nI nod. My gardener again shrugs his shoulders, with a\\nislight smile, as much as to say, it could not be otherwise,\\nand is evidently delighted to have me enjoy his fruit. I fill\\ncapacious pockets with the choicest; and, if I have friends\\n^ith me, they do the same. I give our silent but most\\nexpressive entertainer half a franc, never more and he\\nalways seems surprised at the size of the largesse. We\\nixhaust his basket, and he proposes to get more.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "838 THE PRICE OF ORANGES.\\nWhen I am alone, I stroll about under the heavily.,\\nladen trees, and pick up the largest, where they lie\\nthickly on the ground, liking to hold them in my hand\\nand feel the agreeable weight, even when I can carry\\naway no more. The gardener neither follows nor watches\\nme and I think perhaps knows, and is not stingy about\\nit, that more valuable to me than the oranges I eat or\\ntake away are those on the trees among the shining\\nleaves. And perhaps he opines that I am from a coun-\\ntry of snow and ice, where the year has six hostile\\nmonths, and that I have not money enough to pay for\\nthe rich possession of the eye^ th^.. picture of beauty,\\nwhich 1 take with me.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "FASCINATION.\\na^^.IIERE are three places where T should like to Ihe\\nnamino; them in the inverse order of preference,\\nthe Isle of Wi^ht,. Sorrento, and Heaven. The first two\\nhave something in common, the almost mystic union\\nof sky and sea and shore, a soft atmospheric suffusion\\nthat works an enchantment, and puts one into a dreamy\\nmood. And yet there are decided contrasts. The super-\\nabundant, soaking sunshine of Sorrento is of very differ-\\nent quality from that of the Isle of Wight. On the\\nisland there is a sense of home, which one misses on this\\npromontory, the fascination of which, no less strong, is\\nthat of a southern beauty, whose charms conquer rather\\nthan win. I remember with what feeling I one day\\nunexpectedly read on a white slab, in the little enclosure\\nof Bonchurch, where the sea whispered as gently as the\\nrustle of the ivy-leaves, the name of John Sterling.\\nCould there be any fitter resting-place for that tost,\\nweary, and gentle spirit V There I seemed to know he\\nhad the rest that he could not have anywhere on these\\nrilliant historic shores. Yet so impressible was his sen-\\nsitive nature, that I doubt not, if he had given himself\\nup to the enchantment of these coasts in his lifetime, it\\nwould have led him by a spell he could not break.\\nI am sometimes in doubt what is the spell of Sorrento,\\nand half believe that it is independent of any thing visi-\\nble. There is said to be a fatal enchantment about Capri.\\nThe influences of Sorrento are not so dangerous, but ara\\nalmost as marked. I do not wonder that the Greeks\\n239", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "240 FASCINA TION.\\npeopled every cove and sea-cave with divinities, and built\\ntemples on every headland and rocky islet here that the\\nRomans built upon the Grecian ruins that the ecclesi-\\nastics in succeeding centuries gained possession of all the\\nheights, and built convents and monasteries, and set out\\nvineyards, and orchards of olives and oranges, and took\\nroot as the creeping plants do, spreading themselves\\nabroad in the sunshine and charming air. The Italian\\nof to-day does not willingly emigrate, is tempted by no\\nseduction of better fortune in any foreign clime. And so\\nin all ages the swarming populations have clung to these\\nshores, filling all the coasts and every nook in these almost\\ninaccessible hills with life. Perhaps the delicious climate,\\nwhich avoids all extremes, sufficiently accounts for this\\nand yet I have sometimes thought there is a more subtle\\nreason why travellers from far lands are spell-bound here,\\noften against will and judgment, week after week, month\\nafter month.\\nHowever this may be, it is certain that strangers who\\ncome here, and remain long enough to get entangled in\\nthe meshes which some influence, I know not what, throws\\naround tliem, are in danger of never departing. I know\\nthere are scores of travellers, who whisk down from\\nNaples, guide-book in hand, goaded by the fell purpose\\nof seeing every place in Europe, ascend some height, buy\\na load of the beautiful inlaid wood-work, perhaps row\\nover to Capri and stay five minutes in the azure grotto,\\nand then whisk away again, untouched by the glamour\\nof the place. Enough that they write delightful spot\\nin their diaries, and hurry off to new scenes, and more\\nnois} life. But the visitor who yields himself to the place\\nwill soon find his power of will departing. Some satiri-\\ncal people say, that, as one grows strong in body herf\\nhe becomes weak in mind. The theory I do not accept\\none simply folds his sails, unships his rudder, and waits\\nthe will of Providence, or the arrival of some compelling\\nfate. The longer one remains, the more difficult it is to\\ngo. We have a fashion indeed, I may call it a habit", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "FASCINATION. 241\\nof deciding to go, and of never going. It is a subject\\nof infinite jest among the liahitues of the villa, who meet\\nat table, and who are always bidding each other good-\\nby. We often go so far as to write to Naples at night,\\nand bespeak rooms in the hotels but we always counter-\\nmand the order before we sit down to breakfast. The\\ngood-natured mistress of affairs, the head of the bureau\\nof domestic relations, is at her wits end, with guests who\\nalwa vs promise to go and never depart. There are here\\na gentleman and his wife, English people of decision\\nenough, I presume, in Cornwall, who packed their lug-\\ngage before Christmas to depart, but who have not gone\\ntowards the end of February, who daily talk of going,\\nand little by little unpack their wardrobe, as their deter-\\nmination oozes out. It is easy enough to decide at night\\nto go next day; but in the morning, when the soft sun-\\nshine comes in at the window, and when we descend and\\nwalk in the garden, all our good intentions vanish. It is\\nnot simply that we do not go away, but we have lost the\\nmotive for those long excursions which we made at first,\\nand which more adventurous travellers indulge in.\\nThere are those here who have intended for weeks to\\nspend a day on Capri. Perfect day for the expedition\\nsucceeds perfect day, boat-load after boat-load sails away\\nfrom the little majrina at the base of the cliff, which we\\nfollow with eyes of desire, but to-morrow will do as\\nwell. We are powerless to break the enchantment.\\n1 confess to the fancy that there is some subtle influ-\\nence working this sea-change in us, which the guide-\\nbooks, in their enumeration of the delights of the region,\\ndo not touch, and whicli maybe reaches back beyond the\\nChristian era. I have always supposed that the story of\\nUlysses and the Sirens was only a fiction of the poets,\\nintended to illustrate the allurements of a soul given\\nover to pleasure, and deaf to the call of duty and the\\nexcitement of a grapple with the world. But a lady here,\\nherself one of the entranced, tells me, that whoever climbs\\n*h.Q hills behind Sorrento, and looks upon the Isle of tiie", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "242 FASCINA TION.\\nSirens, is struck with an inability to form a Jesire to\\ndepart from these coasts. I have gazed at those islands\\nmore than once, as they lie there in the Bay of Salerno\\nand it has always happened that they have been in a\\nhalf-mif ty and not uncolored sunlight, but not so draped\\nthat I could not see they were only three irregular rocks,\\nnot far from shore, one of them with some ruins on it.\\nThere are neither Sirens there now, nor any other\\ncreatures but 1 should be sorry to think I should never\\nsee them again. When I look down on them, I can also\\nturn and behold on the other side, across the Bay of\\nNaples, the Posilipo, where one of the enchanters who\\nthrew magic over them is said to lie in his high tomb at\\nt]\\\\e opening of the grotto. Whether he does sleep in his\\nurn in that exact spot is of no moment. Modern life has\\ndis-illusioned this region to a great extent but the\\nromance that the old poets have woven about these bays\\nand rocky promontories comes very easily back upon one\\nwho submits himself long to the eternal influences of sky\\nand sea which made them sing. It is all one, to be a\\nRoman poet in his villa, a lazy friar of the Middle Ages\\ntoasting in the sun, or a modern idler, who has drifted\\nhere out of the active currents of life, and cannot make\\nup his mind to depart.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "MONKISH PERCHES.\\nON heights at either end of the Piano di Sorrento,\\nand commanding it, stood two religious houses:\\nthe Convent of the Camaldoli to the north-east, on the\\n3rest of the hill above Meta the Carthusian Monastery\\nof the Deserto, to the south-west, three miles above Sor-\\nrento. The longer I stay here, the more respect I have\\nfor the taste of the monks of the Middle Ages. They\\ninvariably secured the best places for themselves. They\\nseized all the strategic points they appropriated all the\\ncommanding heights they knew where the sun would\\nbest strike the grape-vines; they perched themselves\\nwherever there was a royal view. When I see how\\nunerringly they did select and occupy the eligible places,\\nI think they were moved by a sort of inspiration. In\\nthose days, when the Church took the first choice in\\nevery thing, the temptation to a Christian life must\\nhave been strong.\\nThe monastery at the Deserto was suppressed by the\\nFrench of the first republic, and has long been in a ruin-\\nous condition. Its buildings ci own the apex of the high-\\nest elevation in this part of the promontory from its roof\\nthe fathers paternally looked down upon the churches\\nand chapels and nunneries which thickly studded all\\nthis region so that I fancy the air must have been full\\nof the sound of bells, and of incense perpetually ascend-\\ning. They looked also upon St. Agata under the hill,\\nwith a church bigger than itself; upon more distinct\\nMassa, with it? nhapeb and ca+hedral and overlooking\\n243", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "244 MONKISH PERCHES.\\nfeudal tower upon Torca, the Greek Theorica, with its\\nTemple of Apollo, the scene yet of an annual religious\\nfestival, to which the peasants of Sorrento go as their\\nancestors did to the shrine of the heathen god; upon\\nolive and orange orchards, and winding paths and way-\\nside shrines innumerable. A sweet and peaceful scene\\nin the foreground, it must have been, and a whole hori\u00c2\u00ab\\nzon of enchantment beyond the sunny peninsula over\\nwhich it lorded the Mediterranean, with poetic Capri,\\nand Ischia, and all the classic shore from Cape Misenum,\\nBaiaa, and Naples, round to Vesuvius all the sparkling\\nBay of Naples and on the other side, the Bay of Salerno,\\ncovered with the fleets of the commerce of Amalfi, then\\na republican city of fifty thousand people and Grecian\\nPsestum on the marshy shore, even then a ruin, its de-\\nserted porches and columns monuments of an archi-\\ntecture never equalled elsewhere in Italy. Upon this\\ncharming perch, the old Carthusian monks took the\\nsummer breezes and the winter sun, pruned their olives,\\nand trimmed their grape-vines, and said prayers for the\\npoor sinners toiling in the valleys below.\\nThe monastery is a desolate old shed now. We left\\nour donkeys to eat thistles in front, while we climbed up\\nsome dilapidated steps, and entered the crumbling hall.\\nThe present occupants are half a dozen monks, and fine\\nfellows too, who have an orphan school of some twenty\\nlads. We were invited to witness their noonday pray-\\ners. The flat-roofed rear buildings extend round an\\noblong, quadrangular space, which is a rich garden,\\nwatered from capacious tanks, and coaxed into easy\\nfertility by the impregnating sun. Upon these roofs\\nthe brothers were wont to walk, and here they sat at\\npeaceful evening. Here, too, we strolled and here\\ncould not resist the temptation to lie an unheeded hour\\nor two, soaking in the benign tnt February sun, abovfe\\nevery human concern and care, looking upon a land\\nand sea steeped in rouiance. The sky was blue above\\nbut in the south horizon, in the direction of Tunis, w^re", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "MONKISH PERCHES. 245\\nthe prismatic colors. Why not be a monk, and lie in\\nthe sun\\nOne of the handsome brothers invited us into the\\nrefectory, a place as bare and cheerless as the feeding-\\nroom of a reform school, and set before us bread and\\n3heese, and red wine, made by the monks. I notice\\nthat the monks do not water their wine so much as\\nthe osteria keepers do which speaks equally well for\\nI heir religion and their taste. The floor of the room\\nwas brick, the table plain boards, and the seats were\\nbenches not much luxury. The monk who served us\\nwas an accomplished man, travelled, and master of sev-\\neral languages. He spoke English a little. He had\\nbeen several years in America, and was much interested\\nwhen we told him our nationality.\\nDoes the signor live near Mexico\\nNot in dangerous proximity, we replied but we\\ndid not forfeit his good opinion by saying that we\\nvisited it but seldom.\\nWell, he had seen all quarters of the globe he had\\nbeen for years a traveller, but he had come back here\\nwith a stronger love for it than ever it was to him the\\nmost delightful spot on earth, he said. And we could\\nnot tell him where its equal is. If I had nothing else to\\ndo, I think I should cast in my lot with him, at least\\nfor a week.\\nBut the monks never got into a cosier nook than the\\nConvent of the Camaldoli. That also is suppressed its\\ngardens, avenues, colonnaded walks, terraces, buildings,\\nhalf in ruins. It is the level surface of a hill, sheltered\\non the east by higher peaks, and on the north by the\\nmore distant range of Great St. Angelo, across the val-\\nxey, and is one of the most extraordinarily fertile plots\\nof ground I ever saw. The rich ground responds gener-\\nously to the sun. I should like to have seen the abbot\\nwho grew on this fat spot. The workmen were busy in\\nthe garden, spading and pruning.\\nA group of wild, half-naked children came about us", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "46 MONKISH PERCHES.\\nbegging, as we sat upon the walls of the terrace, the\\nterrace which overhangs the busy plain below, and which\\ncommands the entire, varied, nooky promontory, and the\\ntwo bays. And these children, insensible to beauty, want\\ncentesimi\\nIn the rear of the church are some splendid specimens\\nof the umbrella-like Italian pine. Here we found, also,\\na pretty little ruin, it might be Greek and it might be\\nDruid for any thing that appeared, ivy-clad, and sug-\\ngesting a religion older than that of the convent. To\\nthe east we look into a fertile, terraced ravine and\\nbeyond to a precipitous brown mountain, which shows\\na sharp outline against the sky half-way up are nests\\nof towns, white houses, churches, and above, creeping\\nalong the slope, the thread of an ancient road, with\\nstone arches at intervals, as old as Cajsar.\\nWe descend, skirting for some distance the monastery\\nwalls, over which patches of ivy hang like green shawls.\\nThere are flowers in profusion, scented violets, daisies,\\ndandelions, and crocuses, large and of the richest vari-\\nety, with orange pistils, and stamens purple and violet,\\nthe back of every alternate leaf exquisitely pencilled.\\nWe descend into a continuous settlement, past shrines,\\npast brown, sturdy men and handsome girls working in\\nthe vineyards we descend but words express noth-\\ning into a wonderful ravine, a sort of refined Swiss\\nscene, high, bare steps of rock butting over a chasm,\\nruins, old walls, vines, flowers. The very spirit of peace\\nis liere, and it is not disturbed by the sweet sound of\\nbells echoed in the passes. On narrow ledges of pre-\\nci])ices, aloft in the air where it would seem that a bird\\ncould scarcely light, we distinguish the forms of men\\nand women and their voices come down to us. They\\nare peasants cutting grass, every spire of which is too\\nprecious to waste.\\nWe descend, and pass by a house on a knoll, and a\\nterrace of olives extending along the road in front. Half\\nA dozen children come to the road to look at us as w\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "MONKISH PERCHES. 247\\nRpproacii, and then scamper back to tlie bouse in fear,\\ntumbling over each other and shouting, the eldest girl\\nmaking good her escape with the baby. My companion\\nswings his hat, and cries, Hullo, baby And when we\\nhave passed the gate, and are under the wall, the whole\\nragged, brown-skinned troop scurry out upon the terrace,\\nand run along, calling after us, in perfect English, as\\nlong as we keep in sight, Hullo, baby Hullo, baby\\nThe next traveller who goes that way will no doubt be\\nhailed by the quick-witted natives with this salutation\\nand, if he is of a philological turn, he will probably ben-\\nefit his mind ^aj running the phrase back to its ultimate\\nGreek roots.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "A DRY TIME.\\nTjl OR three years, once upon a time, it did not rain in\\nJJ Sorrento. Not a drop out of the clouds for three\\nyears, an Itahan lady here, born in Ireland, assures me~\\nIf there was an occasional shower on the Piano during\\nall that drought, I have the confidence in her to think\\nthat she would not spoil the story by noticing it.\\nThe conformation of the hills encircling the plain-\\nvs^ould be likely to lead any shower astray, and discharge\\nit into the sea, with whatever good intentions it may\\nhave started down the promontory for Sorrento. I can\\nsee how these sharp hills would tear the clouds asunder,\\nand let out all their water, while the people in the plain\\nbelow watched them with longing eyes. But it can rain\\nin Sorrento. Occasionally the north-east wind comes\\ndown with whirling, howling fury, as if it would scoop\\nvillages and orchards out of the little nook and the\\nrain, riding on the whirlwind, pours in drenching floods.\\nAt such times I hear the beat of the waves at the foot\\nof the rock, and feel like a prisoner on an island. Eden\\nwould not be Eden in a rain-storm.\\nThe drought occurred just after the expulsion of the\\nBourbons from Naples, and many think on account of it\\nrhere is this to be said in favor of the Bourbons that\\ndry time never had occurred while they reigned, a\\nstatement in which all good Catholics in Sorrento will\\neoncur. As the drought went on, almost all the wells in\\nthe place dried up, except that of the Tramontano and\\n248", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "A DRY TIME. 249\\nkbo one iu the suppressed convent of the Sacred Heart,\\nI think that is its name.\\nIt is a rambling pile of old buildings, in the centre of\\nthe town, with a court-yard in the middle, and in it a\\ndeep well, boring down I know not how far into the rock,\\nand always full of cold, sweet water. The nuns have all\\ngone now and I look in vain up at the narrow slits in\\nthe masonry? which served them for windows, for the\\nglance of a worldly or a pious eye. The poor people of\\nSorrento, when the public wells and fountains had gone\\ndry, used to come and draw at the Tramontano but they\\nwere not allowed to go to the well of the convent, the\\ngates were closed. Why the Government shut them I\\ncannot see perhaps it knew nothing of it, and some\\nstupid official took the pompous responsibility. The peo-\\nple grumbled, and cursed the Government and, in their\\nsimplicity, probably never took any steps to revoke the\\nprohibitory law. No doubt, as the Government had\\ncaused the drought, it was all of a piece, the good rustics\\nthought.\\nFor the Government did indirectly occasion the dry\\nspell. I have the iTiformation from the Italian lady of\\nwhom I have spoken. Among the first steps of the new\\nGovernment of Italy was the suppression of the useless\\nconvents and nunneries. This one at Sorrento early\\ncame under the ban. It always seemed to me almost\\na pity to rout out this asylum of praying and charitable\\nwomen, whose occupation was the encouragement of\\nbeggary and idleness in others, but whose prayers were\\nconstant, and whose charities to the sick of the little\\ncity weie many. If they never were of much good to\\n\u00e2\u0099\u00a6he community, it was a pleasure to have such a sweet\\nlittle hive in the centre of it and I doubt not that the\\nsimple people felt a genuine satisfaction, as they walked\\naround the high walls, in believing that pure prayers\\nwithin were put up for them night and day and espe-\\ncially when they waked at n ght, and heard the bell of\\nUie convent, and knew that at that moment some faith-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "250 A DRY TIME.\\nful soul kept her vigils, and chanted prayers for them\\nand all the world besides; and they slept the sounder for\\nit thereafter. I confess, that^ if one is helped by vicari-\\nous prayer, I would rather trust a convent of devoted\\nwomen (though many of them are ignorant, and some\\nof them are worldly, and none are fair to see) to pray\\nfor me, than some of the houses of coarse monks which\\nhave seen.\\nBut the order came down from Naples to pack off all\\nthe nuns of the Sacred Heart on a day named, to close\\nup the gates of the nunnery, and hang a flaming sword\\noutside. The nuns were to be pulled up by the roots, so\\nto say, on the day specified, and without postponement,\\nand to be transferred to a house prepared for them at\\nMassa, a few miles down the promontory, and several\\nhundred feet nearer heaven. Sorrento was really in\\nmournino; it went about in grief. It seemed as if some-\\n-r\\nthing sacrilegious were about to be done. It was the\\nintention of the whole town to show its sense of it in\\n8ome way.\\nThe day of removal came, and it rained It poured\\nthe water came down in sheets, in torrents, in deluges\\nit came down with the wildest tempest of many a year.\\nI think, from accurate reports of those who witnessed it,\\nthat the beginning of the great Deluge was only a moist-\\nure compared to this. To turn the poor women out of\\ndoors such a day as this, was unchristian, barbarous,\\nimpossible. Everybody who had a shelter was shivering\\nin-doors. But the officials were inexorable. In the\\norder for removal, nothing was said about postponement\\non account of weather and go the nuns must.\\nAnd go they did the Avhole town shuddering at the\\nimpiety of it, but kept from any demonstration by the\\ntempest. Carriages went round to the convent and\\nthe women were loaded into them, packed into tliem,\\ncarried and put in, if they were too infirm to go them-\\nBelves. They were driven away, cross and wet and be-\\ndraggled. They found their dwelling on the liill no^", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "A DRY TIME. 251\\nhalf prepared for them, leaking and cold and cheerless.\\nThey experienced very rouo;h treatment, if I can credit\\nmy informant, who says she hates the Government, and\\nwould not even look out of her lattice that day to see\\nthe carriages drive past.\\nAnd when the Lady Superior was driven away from\\nthe gate, she said to the officials, and the few faithful\\nattendants, prophesying in the midst of the rain that\\npoured about her,\\nThe day will come shortly, when you will want rain,\\nand shall not have it and you will pray for my return.\\nAnd it did not rain, from that day for three years.\\nAnd the simple people thought of the good Superior,\\nwhose departure had been in such a deluge, and who\\nhad taken away with her all the moisture of the land\\nand they did pray for her return, and believed that the\\ngates of heaven would be again opened if only the nun-\\nnery were repeopled. But the Government could not\\nsee the connection between convents and the theory of\\nstorms, and the remnant of pious women was permitted\\ntio remain in their lodgings at Massa. Perhaps the\\nGovernment thought they could, if they bore no malice,\\npray as effectually for rain there as anywhere.\\n1 do not know, said my informant, that the curse of\\nthe Lady Superior had any thing to do with the droughty\\nbut many think it had and those are the facts.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "CHILDREN OF THE SUN.\\nTHE common people of this region are nothing but\\nchildren and ragged, dirty, and poor as they are,\\napparently as happy, to speak idiomatically, as the day\\nis long. It takes very little to please them and their\\neasily-excited mirth is contagious. It is very rare that\\none gets a surly return to a salutation and, if one shows\\nthe least good-nature, his greeting is met with the most\\njolly return. The boatman hauling in his net sings;\\nthe brown girl, whom we meet descending a steep path\\nin the hills, with an enormous bag; or basket of oranges\\non her head, or a building-stone under which she stands\\nas erect as a pillar, sings and, if she asks for something,\\nthere is a merry twinkle in her eye, that says she hardly\\nexpects money, but only puts in a beg at a venture\\nbecause it is the fashion the workmen clipping the\\nolivo-trees sing; the urchins, who dance about the\\nforeigner in the street, vocalize their petitions for un po\\nrU moneta in a tuneful manner, and beg more in a spirit\\nof deviltry than with any expectation of gain. When\\nI see how hard the peasants labor, what scraps and\\nvegetable odds and ends they eat, and in what wretched,\\ndark, and smoke-dried apartments they live, I wonder\\nthey are happy but I suppose it is the all-nourisliing\\nfton and the equable climate that do the business for\\nthem. They have few artificial wants, and no uneasy\\nexpectation, bred by the reading of books and news-\\npapers, that any thing is going to happen in the\\nurorld, or that any change is possible. Their fruit-treej\\n252", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "CHILDREN OF THE SUN. 253\\nyieia abundantly year after year their little patches of\\nricli earth, on the built-up terraces and in the crevicea\\nof the vocks, produce fourfold. The sun does it all.\\nEverv walk that we take here with open mind and\\ncheerful heart is sure to be an adventure. Only yester-\\nday, we were coming down a branch of the great gorge\\nwhich splits the plain in two. On one side the path is\\na high wall, with garden trees overhanging. On the\\nother, a stone parapet; and below, in the bed of the\\nravine, an orange orchard. Beyond rises a precipice;\\nand, at its foot, men and boys were quarrying stone,\\nwhich workmen raised a couple of hundred feet to the\\nplatform above with a windlass. As we came along, a\\nhandsome girl on the height had just taken on her head\\na large block of stone, which I should not care to hft,\\nto carry to a pile in the rear and she stopped to look\\nat us. We stopped, and looked at her. This attracted\\nthe attention of the men and boys in the quarry below,\\nwho stopped work, and set up a cry for a little money.\\nWe laughed, and responded in English. The windlass\\nceased to turn. The workmen on the height joined in\\nthe conversation. A grizzly beggar hobbled up, and held\\nout his greasy cap. We nonplussed him by extending\\nour hats, and beseeching him for just a little something.\\nSome passers on the road paused, and looked on, amused\\nat the transaction. A boy appeared on the high wall,\\nand began to beg. I threatened to shoot him with niy\\nwalking-stick, whereat he ran nimbly along the wall in\\nterror. The workmen shouted and this started up a\\ncouple of yellow dogs, which came to the edge of the\\nwall, and barked violently. The girl, alone calm in the\\nconfusion, stood stock still under her enormous load,\\nlooking at us. We swung our hats, and hurrahed. The\\ncrowd\u00c2\u00b0replied from above, below, and around us shout-\\ning, laughing, singing, until the whole little valley _waa\\nvocal wUh a^ gale of merriment, and all about nothing.\\nThe begg-ar whined the spectators around us laughed\\nand the\u00c2\u00b0whok population was aroused into a jolly mood", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "254 CHILDREN OF THE SUN.\\nFancy su(di a merry hullaballoo in America. For ten\\nminutes, while the funny row was going on, the girl\\nnever moved, having forgotten to go a few steps, and\\ndeposit her load and, when we disappeared round a\\nbend of the path, she was still watching us, smiling and\\nstatuesque.\\nAs we descend, we come upon a group of little chil-\\ndren seated about a door-step, black-eyed, chubby little\\nurchins, who are cutting oranges into little bits, and\\nplaying party, as children do on the other side of the\\nAtlantic. The instant we stop to speak to them, the\\nskinny hand of an old woman is stretched out of a win-\\ndow just above our heads, the wrinkled palm itching for\\nmoney. The mother comes forward out of the house,\\nevidently pleased with our notice of the children, and\\nshows us the baby in her arms. At once we are on good\\nterms with the whole family. The woman sees that\\nthere is nothing impertinent in our cursory inquiry into\\nher domestic concerns, but, I fancy, knows that we are\\ngenial travellers, with human sympathies. So the people\\nuniversally are not quick to suspect any imposition, and\\nmeet frankness with frankness, and good-nature with\\ngood-nature, in a simple-hearted, primeval manner. If\\nthey stare at us from doorway and balcony, or come and\\nstand near us when we sit reading or writing by the\\nshore, it is only a childlike curiosity, and they are quite\\nunconscious of any breach of good manners. In fact, I\\nthink travellers have not much to say in the matter of\\nstaring. I only pray that we Americans abroad may\\nremember that we are in the presence of older races,\\nand conduct ourselves with becoming modesty, remem-\\nbering always, that we were not born in Britain.\\nVery likely I am in error but it has seemed to me that\\neven the funerals here are not so gloomy as in other\\nplaces. I have looked in at the churches when they are\\nin progress, now and then, and been struck with the gen-\\neral good feeling of the occasion. The real mourners,\\neould not always distinguish; but the seats would b\u00c2\u00ab", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "CHILDREN OF TEE SUN. 255\\nfilled with a motley gathering of the idle and the ragged,\\nwho seemed to enjoy the show and the ceremony. On\\none occasion, it was the obsequies of an officer in the\\narmy. Guarding the gilded casket, which stood upon a\\nraised platform before the altar, were four soldiers in uni-\\nform. Mass was being said and sung and a priest was\\nplaying the organ. The church was light and cheerful,\\nand pervaded by a pleasant bustle. Ragged boys and\\nbeggars, and dirty children and dogs, went and came\\nwherever they chose about the unoccupied spaces of the\\nchurch. The hired mourners, who are numerous in pro-\\nportion to the rank of the deceased, were clad in white\\ncotton, a sort of night-gown put on over the ordinary\\nclothes, with a hood of the same drawn tightly over the\\nface, in which slits were cut for the eyes and mouth.\\nSome of them were seated on benches near the front\\nothers were wandering about among the pillars, disap-\\npearing in the sacristy, and re-appearing with an aimlesf\\naspect, altogether conducting themselves as if it were a\\nholiday, and, if there was any thing they did enjoy, it was\\nmourning at other people s expense. They laughed and\\ntalked with each other in excellent spirits and one varlet\\nnear the coffin, who had slipped oif his mask, winked at\\nme repeatedly, as if to inform me that it was not his\\nuneral. A masquerade might Lave been more gloomy\\n4nd depressing.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "SAINT ANTONINO.\\nTHE most serviceable saint whom I know is St. Anto\\nnino. He is the patron saint of the good town of\\nSorrento he is the good genius of all sailors and fisher-\\nmen and he has a humbler office, that of protector of\\nthe pigs. On his day the pigs are brought into the pub-\\nlic square to be blessed; and this is one reason why the\\npork of Sorrento is reputed so sweet and wholesome.\\nThe saint is the friend, and, so to say, companion of the\\ncommon people. They seem to be all fond of him, and\\nthere is little of fear in their confiding relation. His\\nhumble origin and plebeian appearance have something\\nto do with his popularity, no doubt. There is nothing\\nawe-inspiring in the brown stone, figure, battered and\\ncracked, that stands at one corner of the bridge, over the\\nchasm at the entrance of the city. He holds a crosier in\\none hand, and raises the other, with fingers uplifted, in\\nact of benediction. If his face is an indication of his\\ncharacter, he had in him a mixture of robust good-nature\\nwith a touch of vulgarity, and could rough it in a jolly\\nmanner with fishermen and peasants. He may have\\nappeared to better advantage when he stood on top\\nof the massive old city gate, which the present Govern-\\nment, with the impulse of a Vandal, took down a few\\nyears ago. The demolition had to be accomplished in the\\nnight, under a guard of soldiers, so indignant were the\\npopulace. At that time the homely saint was deposed\\nand he wears now, I think, a snubbed and cast-aside\\naspect. Perhaps he is dearer to the people than ever\\n256", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "SAINT ANTONINO. 257\\nand I confess tliat I like him much better than many\\ngrander saints, in stone, I have seen in more conspicuous\\nplaces. If ever I am in rough water and foul weather, 1\\nhope he will not take amiss any thing I have here written\\nabout him.\\nSunday, and it happened to be St. Valentine s also,\\nwas the great fete-day of St. Antonino. Early in the\\nmorning there was a great clanging of bells and the\\nceremony of the blessing of the pigs took place, I heard,\\nbut 1 was not abroad early enough to see it, a laziness\\nfor which I fancy I need not apologize, as the Catholic\\nis known to be an earlier religion than the Protestant.\\nWhen I did go out, the streets were thronged with peo-\\nple, the country-folk having come in from miles around.\\nThe church of the patron saint was the great centre of\\nattraction. The blank walls of the little square in front,\\nand of the narrow street* near, were hung with cheap and\\nhighly-colored lithographs of sacred subjects, for sale\\ntables and booths were set up in every available space\\nfor the traffic in pre-Raphaelite gingerbread, molasses\\ncandy, strings of dried nuts, pine-cone and pumpkin seeds,\\nscarfs, boots and shoes, and all sorts of trumpery. One\\ndealer had pre-empted a large space on the pavement,\\nwhere he had spread out an assortment of bits of old iron,\\ntiails, pieces of steel traps, and various fragments which\\nmight be useful to the peasants. The press was so great,\\nthat it was difficult to get through it but the crowd was\\na picturesque one, and in the highest goocl-humcr. The\\noccasion was a sort of Fourth ot July, but without its\\nworry and powder and flowing bars.\\nThe spectacle of the day was the procession, bearing\\nliie silver image of the saint through the streets. J\\nthink there could never be any thing finer or more impres-\\nsive at least, I like these little fussy provincial displays,\\nthese tag-rags and ends of grandeur, in which all the\\npopulace devoutly believe, and at which they are lost in\\nwonder, better than those imposing ceremonies at the\\ncapital, in which nobody believes. There was first 2\\n22*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "258- SAINT ANIVNINO.\\nband of musicians, walking in more or less disorder, but\\nblowing aTV ay with great zeal, so that they could be heard\\namid the clangor of bells the peals of which reverberate\\nso daafeningly between the high houses of these narrow\\nstreets. Then foUow boys in white, and citizens in black\\nand white robes, carrying huge silken banners, triangular\\nlike sea-pennants, and splendid silver crucifixes which\\n(lash in the sun. Then come ecclesiastics, wjilking with\\nfctately step, and chanting in loud and pleasant unison.\\nThese are followed by nobles, among whom I recognize,\\nwith a certain satisfaction, two descendants of Tasso,\\nwhose glowing and bigoted soul may rejoice in the devo-\\ntion of his posterity, who help to bear to-day the gilded\\nplatform upon which is the solid silver image of the saint.\\nThe good old bishop walks humbly in the rear, in full\\ncanonical rig, with crosier and mitre, his rich robes\\nupborne by priestly attendants, his splendid footman at\\na respectful distance, and his roomy carriage not far\\nbehind.\\nThe procession is well spread out and long all its\\nmembers carry lighted tapers, a good many of which are\\nnot lighted, having gone out in the wind. As I squeeze\\ninto a shallow doorway to let the corteqe pass, I am sorry\\nto say that several of the young fellows in white gowns\\ntip me the wink, and even smile in a knowing fashion,\\nas if it were a mere lark, after all, and that the saint must\\nknow it. But not so thinks the paternal bishop, who\\nwaves a blessing, which 1 catch in the flash of the enor-\\nmous emerald on his right hand. The procession ends,\\nwhere it started, in the patron s church and there his\\nimage is set up under a gorgeous canopy of crimson and\\ngold, to hear high mass, and some of the choicest solos,\\nchoruses, and bravuras from the operas.\\nIn the public square I find a gaping and wondering\\ncrowd of rustics, collected about one of the mountebanks\\nwhose trade is not peculiar to any country. This one\\nQiight be a clock-peddler from Connecticut. He is\\nmounted in a one-seat vettura, and his horse is quietly", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0278.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "SAINT ANTONINO. S59\\neatino; Lis dinner out of a bao; tied to his nose. There\\nLs nothing unusual in the fellow s dress; he wears a\\nshiny silk hat. and has one of those grave faces which\\nwould be merry if their owner were not conscious of\\nserious business on hand. On the driver s perch before\\nhim are arranged his attractions, a box cf notions, a\\nu:rinning skull, with full teeth and jaws that work on\\nhinges, some vials of red liquid, and a closed jar contain-\\ning a most disagreeable anatomical preparation. This\\niatter he holds up and displays, turning it about occa-\\nsionally in an admiring manner. He is discoursing, all the\\ntime, in the most voluble Italian, He has an ointment,\\nwonderfully efficacious for rheumatism and every sort of\\nbruise he pulls up his sleeve, and anoints his arm with\\nit, binding it up with a strip of paper for the simplest\\noperation must be explained to these grown children.\\nHe also pulls teeth, with an ease and expedition hitherto\\nunknown, and is in no want of patients among this open-\\nmouthed crowd. One sufferer after another climbs up\\ninto the wagon, and goes through the operation in the\\npublic gaze. A stolid, good-natured hind mounts the seat.\\nThe dentist examines his mouth, and finds the offending\\ntooth. He then turns to the crowd, and explains the\\ncase. He takes a little instrument that is neither forceps\\nnor turnkey, stands upon the seat, seizes the man s nose,\\nand jerks his head round between his knees, pulling\\nhis mouth open (there is nothing that opens the mouth\\nquicker than a sharp upward jerk of the nose) with a\\njude jollity that sets the spectators in a roar. Down he\\ngoes into the cavern, and digs away for a quarter of a\\nminute, the man the while as immovable as a stone\\nimage, when he holds up the bloody tooth. The patient\\nBtill persists in sitting with his mouth stretched open to\\nits widest limit, waiting for the operation to begin, and\\nwill only close the orifice when he is well shaken and\\n\u00c2\u00abhown the tooth. The dentist gives him some yellow\\nliquid to hold in his mouth, which the man insists on\\niwaliowing, wets a handkerchief and washes his face,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0279.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "26o SAINT AN7VNIIV0.\\nroughly rubbing his nose the wrong way, and lets him\\ngo. Every step of the process is eagerly watched by\\nthe delighted spectators.\\nHe is succeeded by a woman, who is put through the\\nsame heroic treatment, and exhibits like fortitude. Kut\\nso they come and the dentist after every operatioi\\nwaves the extracted trophy high in air, and jubilates\\nas if he had won another victory, pointing to the stone\\nstatue yonder, and reminding them that this is the\\nglorious day of St. Antonino. But this is not all that\\nthis man of science does. He has the genuine elixir\\nd amour, love-philters and powders which never fail in\\ntheir effects. I see the bashful girls and the sheepish\\nswains come slyly up to the side of the wagon, and ex-\\nchange their hard-earned francs for the hopeful prepara-\\ntion. O my brown beauty, with those soft eyes and\\ncheeks of smothered fire, you have no need of that red\\nphilter What a simple, childlike folk The shrewd\\nfellow in the wagon is one of a race as old as Thebes and\\nas new as Porkopolis his brazen face is older than the\\ninvention of bronze, but I think he never had to do with\\na more credulous crowd than this. The very cunning in\\nthe face of the peasants is that of the fox it is a sort of\\ninstinct, and not an intelligent suspicion.\\nThis is Sunday in Sorrento, under the blue sky. These\\npeasants, who are fooled by the mountebank and at-\\ntracted by the piles of adamantine gingerbread, do not\\nforget to crowd the church of the saint at vespers, and\\nkneel there in humble faith while the choir sings the\\nAgnus Dei, and the priests drone the service. Are they\\nso different, then, from other people They have an\\nidea on Capri that England is such another island, only\\nnot so pleasant that all Englishmen are rich, and con-\\nstantly travel to escape the dreariness at home; and\\nthat, if they are not absolutely mad, they are all a little\\nqueer. It was a fancy prevalent in Hamlet s day. We\\nhad the English service in the Villa Nardi in the even-\\ning. There are some Englishmen staying here, of the", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0280.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "SAINT ANTON/NU. 261\\nclass one finds in all the sunny spots of Europe, ennuye\\nand growling, in search of some elixir that shall bring\\nback youth and enjoyment. They seem divided in mind\\nbetween the attractions of the equable climate of this\\nregion, and the fear of the gout which lurks in the unfer-\\nmented wine. One cannot be too grateful to the sturdy\\nislanders for carrying their prayers, like their drum-beat,\\nall round the globe and I was much edified that night,\\nas the reading went on, by a row of rather battered men\\nof the world, who stood in line on one side of the room,\\nand took their prayers with a certain British fortitude,\\nas if they were conscious of performing a constitutional\\nduty, and helping by the act to uphold the majesty of\\nBuglisb institutions.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0281.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "PUNTA BELLA CAMPANELLA.\\nrr^HERE is always a mild excitement about mount-\\nI ing donkeys in the morning here for an excursion\\namong the hills. The warm sun pouring into the gar-\\nden, the smell of oranges, the stimulating air, the general\\nopenness and freshness, promise a day of enjoyment.\\nThere is always a doubt as to who will go generally a\\ndonkey wanting; somebody wishes to join the party at\\nthe last moment; there is no end of running up and\\ndown stairs calling from balconies and terraces; some\\nnever ready, and some waiting below in the sun; the\\nwhole house in a tumult, dri\\\\ ers in a worry, and the\\nsleepy animals now and then joining in the clatter with\\na vocal performance that is neither a trumpet-call nor a\\nsteam-whistle, but an indescribable noise, that begins in\\nagony, and abruptly breaks down in despair. It is diffi-\\ncult to get the train in motion. The lady who ordered\\nSuccarina has got a strange donkey, and Macaroni has\\non the wrong saddle. Succarina is a favorite, the kind-\\nest, easiest, and surest-footed of beasts, a diminutive\\nanimal, not bigger than a Friesland sheep old, in fact\\ngrizzly with years, and not unlike the aged, wizened\\nlittle women who are so common here for beauty in\\nthis region dries up and these handsome Sorrento girls,\\nif they live, and almost everybody does live, have the\\nprospect, in their old age, of becoming mummies, with\\nparchment skins. I have heard of climates that preserve\\nfemale beauty this embalms it, only the beauty escapes\\nin the process. As I was saying, Succarina is little, old,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0282.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "PUN 7 A DEI LA CAMPANELLA. i^i\\nand g izz\\\\y; but her head is large, and one might be\\ncontented to be as wise as she looks.\\nThe party is at length mounted, and clatters away\\nthrough the narrow streets. Donkey-riding is very good\\nfor people who think they cannot walk. It looks very\\nmuch like riding, to a spectator and it deceives tho\\nperson undertaking it into an amount of exercise equal\\nto walking. I have a great admiration for the donkey\\ncharacter. There never was such patience under wrong\\ntreatment, such return of devotion for injury. Their\\nobstinacy, which is so much talked about, is only an\\nexercise of the right of private judgment, and an intel-\\nligent exercise of it, no doubt, if we could take the don-\\nkey point of view, as so many of us are accused of doing\\nin other things. I am certain of one thing in any\\nlarge excursion party, there will be more obstinate\\npeople than obstinate donkeys and yet the poor brutes\\nget all the thwacks and thumps. We are bound to-day\\nfor the Punta della Campanella, the extreme point of\\nthe promontory, and ten miles away. The path lies up\\nthe steps from the new Massa carriage-road, now on the\\nbackbone of the ridge, and now in the recesses of the\\nbroken country. What an animated picture is the don-\\nkeycade, as it mounts the steeps, winding along the zig-\\nzags Hear the little bridle-bells jingling, the drivers\\ngroaning their a-e-ugh, a-e-ugh, the riders making\\na merry din of laughter, and firing off a fusillade of\\nejaculations of delight and wonder.\\nThe road is between high walls round the sweep of\\ncurved terraces which rise above and below us, bearing\\nthe glistening olive through glens and gullies over\\nand under arches, vine-grown, how little we make use\\nof the arch at home round sunny dells where orange\\norchards gleam past shrines, little chapels perched on\\nrocks, rude villas commanding most extensive sweeps\\naf sea and shore. The almond trees are in full bloom,\\nevery twig a thickly-set spike of the pink and white\\nblossoms daisies and dandelions are out the purple", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0283.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "264 PUNl^A BELLA CAMPANELLA.\\ncrocuses sprinkle the ground, the petals exquisitely\\nvaried on the reverse side, and the stamens of bright sal\u00c2\u00bb\\nmon color the large double anemones have come forth,\\ncertain that it is spring on the higher crags by the\\nwayside, the Mediterranean heatb-i^.r has shaken out its\\ndelicate flowers, which fill the air with a mild fragrance\\nwhile blue violets, sweet of scent like the English, make\\nour path a perfumed one. And this is winter.\\nWe have made a late start, owing to the fact that\\neverybody is captain of the expedition, and to the\\nSorrento infirmity that no one is able to make up his\\nmind about any thing. It is one o clock when we reach\\na high transverse ridge, and find the headlands of the\\npeninsula rising before us, grim hills of limestone, one\\nof them with the ruins of a convent on top, and no\\nroad apparent thither, and Capri ahead of us in the sea,\\nthe only bit of land that catches any light for as we\\nhave journeyed, the sky has thickened, the clouds of the\\nsirocco have come up from the south there has been\\nfirst a mist, and then a fine rain the ruins on the peak\\nof Santa Costanza are now hid in mist. We halt for\\nconsultation. Shall we go on and brave a wetting, or\\nignominiously retreat There are many opinions, but\\nfew decided ones. The drivers declare that it will be\\na bad time. One gentleman, with an air of decision,\\nsuggests that it is best to go on, or go back, if we do not\\nstand here and wait. The deaf lady, from near Dublin,\\nbeing appealed to, says that, perhaps, if it is more\\nprudent, we had better go back if it is going to rain.\\nIt does rain. Water-proofs are put on, umbrellas spread,\\nbacks turned to the wind and we look like a group\\nof explorers under adverse circumstances, silent on a\\npeak in Darien, the donkeys especially downcast and\\ndejected. Finally, as is usual in life, a compromise pre-\\nvails. We decide to continue for half an hour longer\\nand see what the weather is. No sooner have we set\\nforward over the brow of a hill than it grows lighter on\\nthe sea horizon in the south-west, the ruins on the peak", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0284.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "PUNTA BELLA CAMPANELLA. 265\\nDecome visible, Capri is in full sunlight. The clouda\\niiffc more and more, and still hanging overhead, but with\\nno more rain, are like curtains gradually drawn up,\\nopening to us a glorious vista of sunshine and promise,\\nan illumined, sparkling, illimitable sea, and a bright\\nforeground of slopes and picturesque rocks. Before the\\nhalf-hour is up, there is not one of the party who does\\nnot claim to have been the person who insisted upon\\ngoing forward.\\nWe halt for a moment to look at Capri,.that enormous,\\nirregular rock, raising its huge back out of the sea, its\\nback broken in the middle, with the little village for a\\nsaddle. On the farther summit, above Anacapri, a pre-\\ncipice of two thousand feet sheer down to the water on\\nthe other side, hangs a light cloud. The east elevation,\\nwhence the playful Tiberius used to amuse his green old\\nage by casting his prisoners eight hundred feet down\\ninto the sea, has the strong sunlight on it and below,\\nthe row of tooth-like rocks, which are the extreme eastern\\npoint, shine in a warm glow. We descend through a\\nvillao;e, twistino; about in its crooked streets. The in-\\nhabitants, who do not see strangers every day, make\\nfree to stare at and comment on us, and even laugh at\\nsomething that seems very comical in our appearance\\nwhich shows how ridiculous are the costumes of Paris\\nand New York in some places. Stalwart girls, with\\nonly an apology for clothes, with bare legs, brown faces,\\nand beautiful eyes, stop in their spinning, holding the\\ndistaff suspended, while they examine us at leisure. At\\nour left, as we turn from the church and its sunny j^zassa,\\nwhere old women sit and gabble, down the ravine, is a\\nsnug village under the mountain by the shore, with a\\ngreat, square, mediaeval tower. On the right, upon\\nrocky points, are remains of round towers, and temples\\nperhaps.\\nWe sweep away to the left round the base of the hill,\\never a difficult and stony path. Soon the last dilapidated\\nvilla Is passed^ the last terrace and olive-tree are left be-\\n23", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0285.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "266 PUNTA BELLA LAMPANELLA.\\nhind and we emerge upon a wild, rocky slope, barren\\nof vegetation, except little tufts of grass and a sort oi\\nlentil a wide sweep of limestone strata set on edge,\\nand crumbling in the beat of centuries, rising to a con-\\nsiderable height on the left. Our path descends toward\\nthe sea, still creeping round the end of the promontory.\\nScattered here and there over the rocks, like conies, are\\npeasants, tending a few lean cattle, and digging grasses\\nfrom the crevices. The women and children are wild vu\\nattire and manner, and set up a clamor of begging as\\nwe pass. A group of old hags begin beating a poor\\nchild as we approach to excite our compassion for the\\nabused little object, and draw out centhnes.\\nWalking ahead of the procession, which gets slowly-\\ndown the rugged path, I lose sight of my companions,\\nand have the solitude, the sun on the rocks, the glisten-\\ning sea, all to myself. Soon I espy a man below me,\\nsaunterin down among the rocks. He sees me and\\nmoves away, a solitary figure. I say solitary and so it\\nis in effect, although he is leading a little boy, and call-\\ning to his dog, which runs back to bark at me. Is this\\nthe brigand of whom I have read, and is he luring me\\nto his haunt Probably. I follow. He throws his cloak\\nabout his shoulders, exactly as brigands do in the opera,\\nand loiters on. At last there is the point in sight, a gray\\nwall with blind arches. The man disappears through a\\nnarrow archway, and I follow. Within is an enormous\\nsquare tower. I think it was built in Spanish days, as\\nan outlook for Barbary pirates. A bell hung in it, which\\nwas set clanging when the white sails of the robbers\\nappeared to the southward and the alarm was repeated\\nup the coast, the towers were manned, and the brown-\\ncheeked girls flew away to the hills, I doubt not, for the\\nonoh of the sirocco was not half so much to be dreaded\\n.IS the rough importunity of a Saracen lover. The bell\\nis gone now, and no Moslem rovers were in sight. The\\nmaidens we had just passed would be safe if there were\\nMy brigand disappears round the tower and I follow", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0286.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "PUN l A DELL A CAMPANELLA. 267\\ndown steps, by a white wall, and, lo a house, a red,\\nBtucco, Egyptian-looking building, on the very edge ol\\nthe rocks. The man unlocks a door and goes in. I con-\\nsider this an invitation, and enter. On one side of the\\npassage a sleeping-room, on the other a kitchen, not\\nsumptuous quarters and we come then upon a pretty\\ncircular terrace and there, in its glass case, is the lan-\\ntern of the point. My brigand is a lighthouse keeper,\\nand welcomes me in a quiet way, glad, evidently, to see\\nthe face of a civilized being. It is very solitary, he says.\\nI should think so. It is the end of every thing. The\\nMediterranean waves beat with a dull thud on the worn\\ncrags below. The rocks rise up to the sky behind.\\nThere is nothing there but the sun, an occasional sail,\\nand quiet, petrified Capri, three miles distant across the\\nstrait. It is an excellent place for a misanthrope to\\nspend a week, and get cured. There must be a very\\ndispiriting influence prevailing here the keeper refused\\nto take any money, the solitary Italian we have seen so\\naffected.\\nWe returned late. The young moon, lying in the lap\\nof the old one, was superintending the brilliant sunset\\nover Capri, as we passed the last point commanding it\\nand the light, fading away, left us stumbling over the\\nrough path\u00c2\u00b0among the hills, darkened by the high walls.\\nWe were not sorry to emerge upon the crest above tho\\nMassa road. For there lay the sea, and the plain of\\nSorrento, with its darkening groves and hundreds of\\ntwinkling lights. As we went down the last descent,\\nIhe bells of the town were all ringing, for it was the eve\\nof the fete of St. Antonino.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0287.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "CAPRI.\\n/~^AP, signor? Good day for Grott. Thus spoke a\\n\\\\_y mariner, touching his Phrygian cap. The people\\nhere abbreviate all names. With them Massa is Mas,\\nMeta is Met, Capri becomes Cap, the Grotta Azzurra is\\nreduced familiarly to Grott, and they even curtail musical\\nSorrento into Serent.\\nShall we go to Capri Should we dare return to the\\ngreat Republic, and own that we had not been into the\\nBlue Grotto We like to climb the steej)s here, espe-\\ncially towards Massa, and look at Capri. I have read\\nin some book that it used to be always visible from Sor-\\nrento. But now the promontory has risen, the Capo di\\nSorrento has thrust out its rocky spur with its ancient\\nRoman masonry, and the island itself has moved so far\\nround to the south, that Sorrento, which fronts north,\\nhas lost sight of it.\\nWe never tire of watching it, thinking that it could\\nnot be spared from the landscape. It lies only three\\nmiles from the curving end of the promontory, and is\\nabout twenty miles due south of Naples. In this atmos-\\nphere distances dwindle. The nearest land, to the north-\\nwest, is the larger island of Ischia, distant nearly as fat\\nas Naples yet Capri has the eflfect of being anchored ofl[\\nthe bay to guard the entrance. It is really a rock, three\\nmiles and a half long, rising straight out of the water,\\n3ight hundred feet high at one end, and eighteen hun\\ndred feet at the other, with a depression between. If it\\nhad been chiselled by hand and set there, it could not\\n268", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0288.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "CAPRI. 269\\nbe more sharply defined. So precipitous are its sides\\nof rock, that there are only two fit boat-landings, the\\nmarina on the north side, and a smaller plac-e opposite.\\nOne of those light-haired and freckled Englishmen,\\nwhose pluck exceeds their discretion, rowed round the\\nisland alone in rough water, last summer, against the\\nadvice of the boatman, and unable to make a landing,\\nand weary with the strife of the waves, was in consider-\\nable peril.\\nSharp and clear as Capri is in outline, its contour is\\netill most graceful and poetic. This wonderful atmos-\\nphere softens even its ruggedness, and drapes it with\\nhues of enchanting beauty. Sometimes the haze plays\\nfantastic tricks with it, a cloud-cap hangs on Monte\\nSolaro, or a mist obscures the base, and the massive\\nsummits of rock seem to float in the air, baseless fabrics\\nof a vision that the rising wind will carry away perhaps\\nI know now what Homer means by wandering islands.\\nShall we take a boat and sail over there, and so destroy\\nforever another island of the imagination? The bane of\\ntravel is thfe destruction of illusions.\\nWe like to talk about Capri, and to talk of going\\nthere. The Sorrento people have no end of gossip\\nabout the wild island; and, simple and primitive as\\nthey are, Capri is still more out of the world. I do\\nnot know what enchantment there is on the island\\nbut whoever sets foot there, they say, goes insane or\\ndies a drunkard. I fancy the reason of this is foTjnd\\nin the fact that the Capri girls are raving beauties. I\\nam not sure but the monotony of being anchored off\\nthere in the bay, the monotony of rocks and precipices\\nthat goats alone can climb, the monotony of a tempera-\\nture that scarcely ever, winter and summer, is below 55\u00c2\u00b0\\nor above 75\u00c2\u00b0 Fahrenheit in-doors, might drive one into\\nlunacy. But I incline o think it is due to the hand-\\nsome Capri girls.\\nThere are beautiful girls in Sorrento, with a beauty\\nmore than skin deep, a glowing, hidden fire, a ripeness\\n23*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0289.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "l-jo CAPRJ.\\ntike that of the grape and the peach \u00c2\u00a5/hieh grow in the\\nBoft air and the sun. And they wither, like grapes that\\nhang upon the stem. I have never seen a handsome,\\nscarcely a decent-looking, old woman here They are\\nlank and dry, and their bones \\\\ire covered with parch-\\nment. One of these brown-cheeked girls, with large,\\nlonging eyes, gives the stranger a start, now and then,\\nwhen he meets her in a narrow way with a basket of\\noranges on her head. I hope he has the grace to go\\nright by. Let him meditate what this vision of beauty\\nwill be like in twenty years.\\nThe Capri girls are famed as magnificent beauties,\\nbut they fade like their mainland sisters. The Saracens\\nused to descend on their island, and carry them off to\\ntheir harems. The English, a very adventurous people,\\nwho have no harems, have followed the Saracens. The\\nyoung lords and gentlemen have a great fondness for\\nCapri. I hear gossip enough about elopements, and not\\nseldom marriages, with the island girls, bright girls,\\nwith the Greek mother-wit, and surpassingly handsome\\nbut they do not bear transportation to civilized life (any\\nmore than some of the native wines do) they accept no\\nintellectual culture and they lose their beauty as they\\ngrow old. What then The young English blade, who\\nwas intoxicated by beauty into an injudicious match, and\\nmight, as the proverb says, have gone insane if he could\\nnot have made it, takes to drink now, and so fulfils the\\nother alternative. Alas the fatal gift of beauty.\\nBut I do not think Capri is so dangerous as it is repre-\\nsented. For (of course we went to Capri) neither at the\\nmarina, where a crowd of barelegged, vociferous maid-\\nens with donkeys assailed us, nor in the village above,\\ndid I see many girls for whom and one little isle a per-\\nson would forswear the world. But I can believe that\\nthey grow here. One of our donkey girls was a hand-\\nsome, dark-skinned, black-eyed girl but her little sis-\\nrer, a mite of a being of six years, who could scarcely\\nstep over the small stones in the road, and was forceci", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0290.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "CAPRI. 271\\nto lead the doukey by her sister in order to establish\\nanother lien on us for huona mano, was a dirty little\\nangel in rags, and her great, soft, black eyes will look\\nsomebody into the asylum or the drunkard s grave in\\ntime, I have no doubt. There was a stout, manly, hand-\\nome little fellow of five years, who established himself\\nthe guide and friend of the tallest of our party. His\\nhat was nearly gone he was sadly out of repair in the\\nrear his short legs made the act of walking absuid but\\nhe trudged up the hill with a certain dignity. And there\\nwas nothing mercenary about his attachment he and his\\nfriend got upon very cordial terms they exchanged gifts\\nof shells and copper coin, but nothing was said about pay.\\nNearly all the inhabitants, young and old, joined us\\nin lively procession, up the winding road of three-quar-\\nters of a mile, to the town. At the deep gate, entering\\nbetween thick walls, we stopped to look at the sea. The\\ncrowd and clamor at our landing had been so great, that\\nwe enjoyed the sight of the quiet old woman sitting here\\nin the sun, and the few beggars almost too lazy to stretch\\nout their hands. Within the gate is a large paved square,\\nwith the government offices and the tobacco-shop on one\\nside, and the church opposite between them, up a flight\\nof broad stone steps, is the Hotel Tiberio. Our donkeys\\nwalk up them and into the hotel. The church and hotel\\nare six hundred years old the hotel was a villa belong-\\ning to Joanna II. of Naples. We climb to the roof of\\nthe quaint old building, and sit there to drink in the\\nstrange Oriental scene. The landlord says it is like\\nJaffa or Jerusalem. The landlady, an Irish woman\\ni rom Devonshire, says it is six francs a day. In what\\nfriendly intercourse the neighbors can sit on these flat\\nroofs 1 How sightly this is, and yet how sheltered To\\nthe east is the height where Augustus, and after him Tibe-\\naus, built palaces. To the west, up that vertical wall,\\noy means of five hundred steps cut in the face of the\\nrock, we go to reach the table-land of Anacapri, the\\nprimitive village Oi that lame, hidden from view here", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0291.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "272 CAPRI.\\nthe mediseval castle of Barbarossa, wliich hangs over 3\\nfrightful precipice; and the height of Monte Solaro.\\nThe island is everywhere strewn with Roman ruins, and\\nwith faint traces of the Greeks.\\nCapri turns out not to be a barren rock. Broken and\\npicturesque as it is, it is yet covered with vegetation.\\nThere is not a foot, one might say a point, of soil that\\ndoes not bear something and there is not a niche in the\\nrock, where a scrap of dirt will stay, that is not made\\nuseful. The whole island is terraced. The most won-\\nderful thing about it, after all, is its masonry. You come\\nto think, after a time, that the island is not natural rock,\\nbut a mass of masonry. If the labor that has been\\nexpended here, only to erect platforms for the soil to rest\\non, had been given to our country, it would have built\\nhalf a dozen Pacific railways, and cut a canal through\\nthe Isthmus.\\nBut the Blue Grotto Oh, yes I Is it so blue That\\ndepends upon the time of day, the sun, the clouds, and\\nsomething upon the person who enters it. It is fright-\\nfully blue to some. We bend down in our row-boat,\\nslide into the narrow opening which is three feet high,\\nand, passing into the spacious cavern, remain there for\\nhalf an hour. It is, to be sure, forty feet high, and a\\nhundred by a hundred and fifty in extent, with an arched\\nroof, and clear water for a floor. The water appears to\\nbe as de^p as the roof is high, and is of a light, beautiful\\nblue, in contrast with the deep blue of the bay. At the\\n3ntrance the water is illuminated, and there is a pleasant,\\nmild light within one has there a novel subterranean\\nsensation but it did not remind rae of any thing I have\\nseen in the Arabian Nights. I have seen pictures of\\nit that were much finer.\\nAs we rowed close to the precipice in returning, I saw\\nmany similar openings, not so deep, and perhaps only\\nsham openings and the water-line was fretted to honey\\n2omb by the eating waves. Beneath the water-line, and\\n\u00c2\u00ab-evealed here and there when the waives receded, was a\\nUne of bright red coral.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0292.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "THE STORY OF FIAMETTA,\\nAT vespers on the fete of St. Antonino, and in liia\\nchurch, I saw the Signorina Fiametta. I stood\\nleaning against a marble pillar near the altar-steps,\\nduring the service, when I saw the voung girl kneeling\\non the pavement in act of prayer. Her black lace veil\\nhad fallen a little back from her head; and there\\nwas something in her modest attitude and graceful\\nfigure, that made her conspicuous among all her kneel-\\ning companions, with their gay kerchiefs and bright\\ngowns. When she rose and sat down, with folded hands\\nand eyes downcast, there was something so pensive in\\nher subdued mien, that I could not take my eyes from\\nher. To say that she had the rich olive complexion,\\nwith the gold struggling through, large, lustrous black\\neyes, and harmonious features, is only to make a weak\\nphotograph, when I should paint a picture in colors, and\\ninfuse it with the sweet loveliness of a maiden on the way\\nto sainthood. I was sure that I had seen her before,\\nlooking down from the balcony of a villa just beyond\\n^he Roman wall, for the face was not one that even tho\\nmost unimpressible idler would forget. I was sure, that,\\nyoung as she was, she had already a history had lived\\nher life, and now walked amid these groves and old\\nstreets in a dream. The story which I heard is not long.\\nIn the drawing-room of the Villa Nardi, was shown,\\nand offered for sale, an enormous counterpane, crocheted\\nin white cotton. Loop by loop, it must have been a\u00c2\u00ab\\nunmense labrr to knit it for it was fashioned in pretty\\n273", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0293.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "274 THE STORY OF FI AM ETTA.\\ndevices, and when spread out. Avas rich and showy enough\\nf-^r the royal bed of a princess. It had been crocheted\\nby Fiametta for lier marriage, the only portion the poor\\nchild could bring to that sacrament. Alas the wedding\\nwas never to be and the rich work, into which her del-\\nicate fingers had knit so many maiden dreams and hopes\\nand fears, was oftered for sale in the resort of strangers.\\nIt could not havti been want only that induced her to put\\nthis piece of work in the market, but the feeling, also,\\nthat the time never again could return when she would\\nhave need of it. I had no desire to purchase such a mel-\\nancholy coverlet, but I could well enough fancy why she\\nwould wish to part with what must be rather a pall than\\na decoration in her little chamber.\\nFiametta lived with her mother in a little villa, the\\nroof of which is in sight from my sunny terrace in the\\nVilla Nardi, just to the left of the square old convent\\ntower, rising there out of the silver olive-boughs, a\\ntumble-down sort of villa, with a flat roof and odd angles\\nand parapets, in the midst of a thrifty but small grove of\\nlemons and oranges. They were poor enough, or would\\nbe in any country where physical wants are greater than\\nhere, and yet did not belong to that lowest class, the young\\ngirls of which are little more than beasts of burden,\\naccustomed to act as porters, bearing about on their\\nheads great loads of stone, wood, water, and baskets of\\noranges in the shipping season. She could not have been\\nforced to such labor, or she never would have had the time\\nto work that wonderful coverlet.\\nGiuseppe was an honest and rather handsome young\\nfellow of Sorrento, industrious and good-natured, who\\ndid not bother his head much about learning. He was,\\nhowever, a skilfid workman in the celebrated inlaid and\\nmosaic wood-work of the place, and, it is said, had even\\ninvented some new figm^es for the inlaid pictures in col-\\nored woods. He had a little fancy for the sea as well,\\nfind liked to pull an oar over to Capri on occasion, by\\nw^hich he cculd earn a few francs easier than he could", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0294.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "THE S TOR V OF FIAME TTA 275\\nsaw them out of the orange-wood. For the stupid fel-\\nlow, who could not read a word in his prayer-book, had\\nan idea of thrift in his head, and ah-eady, I suspect, was\\nlaying up liras with an object. There are one or two\\ndandfes in Sorrento who attempt to dress as they do in\\nNaples. Giuseppe was not one of these but there was\\nnot a o-ayer or handsomer gallant than he on Sunday, or\\none more looked at by the Sorrento girls, when he had\\non his clean suit and his fresh red Phrygian cap. At\\nleast the good Fiametta thought so, when she met hirn\\nat church, though I feel sure she did not allow even his\\nhandsome figure to come betAveen her and the Vu-gin.\\nAt any rate^ there can be no doubt of her sentiments\\nafter church, when she and her mother used to walk with\\nhim, along the winding Massa road above the sea, and\\nstroll down to the shore to sit on the greensward over the\\nTemple of Hercules, or the Roman Baths, or the remains\\nof the villa of C. Fulvius Cunctatus Codes, or whatever\\nthose ruins subterranean are, there on the Capo di Sor-\\nrento. Of course, this is mere conjecture of mine. They\\nmay have gone on the hills behind the town instead, or\\nthey mav have stood leaning over the garden-wall of her\\nmother s Kttle villa, looking at the passers-by in the deep\\nlane, thinking about nothing in the world, and talkmg\\nabout it all the sunny afternoon, until Ischia was purple\\nwith the last light, and the olive terraces behind them\\nbeo-an to lose their gray bloom. All I do know is, that\\nthey were in love, blossoming out in it as the almond-\\ntrees do here in Feburary and that all the town knew\\nit, and saw a wedding in the future, just as plain as you\\ncan see Capri from the heights above the town.\\nIt was at this time that the wonderful counterpane\\nbegan to grow, to the continual astonishment of Giu-\\nseppe, to vshom it seemed a marvel of skill and patience,\\nand who saw what love and sweet hope Fiametta was\\nknitting into it wnn her def fingers. I declare, as _ 1\\nthink of it, the white cotton spread out on her knees, in\\neuch contrast to the rich olive of Ler complexion and", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0295.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "876 THE STORY OF FI AM ETTA.\\nher black sliiny hair, while she knits away so merrily,\\nglancing up occasionally with those Hquid, laughing eyes\\nto Gius.eppe, who is watching her as if she were an angel\\nright out of the blue sky, I am tempted not to tell this\\nstory fiirther, but to leave the happy two there at the\\nopen gate of life, and to believe that they entered in.\\nThis was about the time of the change of government,\\nafter this region had come to be a part of the Kingdom\\nof Italy. After the first excitement was over, and the\\nsimple people found they were not all made rich, nor\\nraised to a condition in which they could live without\\nwork, there began to be some dissatisfaction. Why the\\nconvents need have been suppressed, and especially the\\npoor nuns packed off, they couldn t see and then the\\ntaxes were heavier than ever before instead of being\\nsupported by the Government, they had to support it\\nand, worst of all, the able young fellows must still go for\\nsoldiers. Just as one was learning his trade, or perhaps\\nhad acquired it, and was ready to earn his living and\\nbegin to make a home for his wife, he must pass the\\nthree best years of his life in the army. The conscrip-\\ntion was relentless.\\nThe time came to Giuseppe, as it did to the others.\\nT never heard but he was brave enough there was no\\ntorm on the Mediterranean that he dare not face in his\\nlittle boat and he would not have objected to a cam-\\npaign with the red shirts of Garibaldi. But to be torn\\naway from his occupations by which he was daily laying\\naside a little for himself and Fiametta, and to leave her\\nfor three years, that seemed dreadful to him. Tliree\\nyears is a long time and though he I ad no doubt of the\\npretty Fiametta, yet women are women, said the shrewd\\nfellow to himseljf, and who knows what Height happen, if\\na gallant came along who could read and write, as Fi-\\nametta could, and, besides, could play the guitar\\nThe result was, that Giuseppe did not appear at the\\nmustering-office on the day set; and, when the file of\\nsoldiers came for him, he was nowhere to be found. H*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0296.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "THE STORY OF FIAMETTA. 277\\nbad fled to the mountains. I scarcely know what his\\nplan was, but he probably trusted to some good luck to\\nescape the conscription altogether, if he could shun it\\nnow and, at least, I know that he had many comrades\\nwho did the same, so that at times the mountains were\\nfall of young fellows who were lurking in them to escape\\nthe soldiers. And they fared very roughly usually, and\\nsometimes nearly perished from hunger for though the\\nsympathies of the peasants were undoubtedly with the\\nquasi outlaws rather than with the carbineers, yet the\\nlatter were at every hamlet in the hills, and liable to\\nvisit every hut, so that any reUef extended to the fugi-\\ntiv^es was attended with great danger and, besides, the\\nhunted men did not dare to venture from their retreats.\\nThus outlawed and driven to desperation by hunger,\\nthese fugitives, whom nobody can defend for running\\naway from their duties as citizens, became brigands. A\\ncynical German, who was taken by them some years ago\\non the road to Castellamare, a few miles above here, and\\nheld for ransom, declared that they were the most honest\\nfellows he had seen in Italy but I never could see that\\nhe intended the remark as any compliment to them. It\\nis certain that the inhabitants of all these towns held\\nvery loose ideas on the subject of brigandage the poor\\nfellows, they used to say, only robbed because they were\\nhungry, and they must live somehow.\\nWhat Fiametta thought, down in her heart, is not\\ntold but I presume she shared the feelings of those\\nabout her concerning the brigands, and, when she heard\\nthat Giuseppe had joined them, was more anxious for the\\nsafety of his body than of his soul though I warrant the\\ndid not forget either, in her prayers to the Virgin and\\nSt. Antonino. And yet those must have been days,\\nweeks, months, of terrible anxiety to the poor child and\\nif she worked away at the counterpane, netting in that\\nelaborate border, as I have no doubt she did, it must\\nhave been with a sad heari and doubtful fingers. 1\\n\u00c2\u00bb-hink that ore of the psychological sensitives could dis-\\n24", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0297.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "278 THE STOR V OF FTAME TTA\\ntinguish the parts of the bed-spr fiad that were knit in the\\nsunny days from those knit in the long hours of care and\\ndeepening anxiety.\\nIt was rarely that she received any message from him,\\nand it was then only verbal and of the briefest; he was\\nin the mountains above Amalfi one day he had come\\nso far round as the top of the Great St. Angelo, from\\nwhich he could look down upon the piano of Sorrento,\\nwhere the little Fiametta was or he had been on the\\nhills near Salerno, hunted and hungry or his company\\nhad descended upon some travellers going to Passtum,\\nmade a successful haul, and escaped into the steep\\nmountains beyond. He didn t intend to become a regu-\\nlar bandit, not at all. He hoped that something might\\nhappen so that he could steal back into Sorrento, un-\\nmarked by the Government or, at least, that he could\\nescape away to some other country or island, where Fi-\\nametta could join him. Did she love him yet, as in the\\ncid, happy days As for him, she was now every thing\\nto him and he would willingly serve three or thirty\\nyears in the army, if the Government could forget he had,\\nbeen a brigand, and permit him to have a little home\\nwith Fiametta at the end of the probation. There was\\nnot much comfort in all this, but the simple fellow could\\nnot send any thing more cheerful and I think it used\\nto feed the little maiden s heart to hear from him, even\\nin this downcast mood, for his love for her was a dear\\ncertainty, and his absence and wild life did not dim it.\\nMy iriformant does not know how long this painful\\nlife went on, nor does it matter much. There came a\\nday when the Government was shamed into new vigor\\nagainst the brigands. Some English people of conse-\\nquence (the German of whom I have spoken was with\\nthem) had been captured, and it had cost them a heavy\\nransom. The number of the carbineers was quadrupled\\nin the infested districts, soldiers penetrated the fastnesses\\nof the hills, there were daily nghts Mi:h the ba iditti and\\nto show that this was no sham some of them were actu-", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0298.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "THE STORY OF FIAMETTA. 279\\nally shot, and others were taken and thrown into prison.\\nAmono; those who were not afraid to stand and fijilit, and\\nwho would not be captured, was our Giuseppe. One\\nday the Italia newspaper of Naples had an account of a\\nfioht with brioands and in the list of those who fell was\\nthe name of Giuseppe of Sorrento, shot through\\nthe head, as he ought to have been, and buried without\\nfuneral among the rocks.\\nThis was all. But, when the news was read in the\\nlittle post-office in Sorrento, it seemed a great deal more\\nthan it does as I write it for, if Giuseppe had an enemy\\nin the village, it was not among the people, and not one\\nwho heard the news did not think at once of the poor\\ngirl to whom it would be more than a bullet through the\\nheart. And so it was. The slender hope of her life\\nthen went out. I am told that there was little change\\noutwardly, and that she was as lovely as before but a\\ngreat cloud of sadness came over her, in which she was\\nalways enveloped, whether she sat at home, or walked\\nabroad in the places where she and Giuseppe used to\\nWander. The simple people respected her grief, and\\nalways made a tender-hearted stillness when the bereft\\nlittle maiden went through the streets, a stillness\\nwhich she never noticed, for she never noticed any thing\\napparently. The bishop himself when he walked\\nabroad could not be treated with more respect.\\nThis was all the story of the sweet Fiametta that was\\nconfided to me. And afterwards, as I recalled her pen-\\nsive face that evening as she kneeled at vespers, I could\\nnot say whether, after all, she was altogether to be\\nwtied, in the holy isolation of her grief, which I am sure\\nsanctified her, and, in some sort, made her lite complete.\\nFor 1 take it that life, even in this sunny Sorrento, is\\nBot alone a matter of time.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0299.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "ST. MARIA A CASTELLO.\\nrr ^HE Great St. Angelo and that region are supposed\\nJL to be the haunts of brigands. From those heights\\nthey spy out the land, and from thence have, more than\\nonce, descended upon the sea-road between Castellamare\\nand Sorrento, and caught up English and German travel-\\nlers. This elevation commands, also, the Psestum way.\\nWe have no faith in brigands in these days for, in all\\nour remote and lonely explorations of this promontory,\\nwe have never met any but the most simple-hearted and\\ngood-natured people, who were quite as much afraid of\\nus as we were of them. But there are not wanting\\nstories, every day, to keep alive the imagination of\\ntourists.\\nWe are waiting in the garden this sunny, enticing\\nmorning just the day for a tramp among the purple\\nhills for our friend, the long Englishman, who prom-\\nised, over night, to go with us. This excellent, good-\\nnatured giant, whose head rubs the ceiling of any room\\nin the house, has a wife who is fond of him, and in great\\ndread of the brigands. He comes down with a sheepish\\nair, at lengfth, and informs us that his wife won t let him\\n(JO.\\nor course T can qo, if I like, he adds. But the\\n(kzt 19, I haven t slept much all night: phe kept asking\\nme if I was going 1 On the whole, the giant don\\ncare to go. There are things more to be feared than\\norigands.\\nThe expedition Is, therefore, reduced to two unarmeo", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0300.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "ST. MARIA A CASTE LLO. 25Si\\npersons. In the piazza we pick up a donkey and his\\ndriver, for use in case of accident and, mounting the\\ndriver on the donkey, an arrangement that seems en-\\ntirely satisfactory to him, we set forward. If any thing\\ncan bring back youth, it is a day of certain sunshine and\\na bit 01 unexplored country ahead, with a whole day in\\nwhich to wander in it without a care or a responsibility.\\nWe walk briskly up the walled road of the piano^ strik-\\ning at the overhanging golden fruit wnth our staves\\ngreeting the orange-girls who come down the side lane:*;\\nchaffing with the drivers, the beggars, the old women\\nwho sifin the sun looking into the open doors of houses\\nand shops upon women weaving, boys and girls slicing\\nup heaps of oranges, upon the makers of macaroni,_ the\\nsellers of sour wine, the merry shoemakers, whose little\\ndens are centres of gossip here as in all the East the\\nwhole life of these people is open and social to be on\\nthe street is to be at home.\\nWe wind up the steep hill behind Meta, every foot of\\nwhich is terraced for olive-trees, getting, at length, views,\\nover the wayside wall, of the plain and bay, and rising\\ninto the purer air and the scent of flowers and other\\nsigns of coming spring, to the little village of Arola,\\nw?th its church and bell, its beggars and idlers, \u00e2\u0080\u0094just a\\nUtile street of houses jammed in between the hills of\\nCaraaldoli and Pergola, both of which we know well.\\nIFpon the cliff by Pergola is a stone house, in front of\\nwhich I like to lie, looking straight down a thousand or\\ntwo feet upon the roofs of Meta, the map of the plain,\\nand the always fascinating bay. I went down the back-\\nbone of the limestone ridge towards the sea the other\\nafternoon, before sunset, and unexpectedly came upon a\\ngroup of little stone cottag^es on a ledge, which are quite\\nhidden from below, The inhabitants were as much sur-\\nprised to see a foreigner breaii through their seclusion as\\nI was to come upon them. However, they soon recov-\\nered presence of mind to ask for a little money. Halt\\na dozen old hags with the parchment also sat upon the\\n24*", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0301.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "282 ST. MARIA A CASTELLO,\\nrocks in the sun, spinning from distaffs, exaclly as tlieir\\nancestors did in Greece two thousand years ago, I doubt\\nnot. I do not know that it is true, as Tasso wrote, that\\nthis climate is so temperate and serene that one almost\\nbecomes immortal in it. Since two thousand years all\\nthese coasts have changed more or less, risen and sunk,\\nand the temples and palaces of two civilizations have\\ntumbled into the sea. Yet I do not know but these\\ntranquil old women have been sitting here on the rocks\\nall the while, high above change and worry and decay,\\ngossiping and spinning, like Fates. Their yarn must be\\nuncanny.\\nBut we wander. It is difficult to go to any particular\\nplace here impossible to write of it in a direct manner.\\nOur mule-path continues most delightful, by slopes of\\ngreen orchards nestled in sheltered places, winding round\\ngorges, deep and ragged with loose stones, and groups\\nof rocks standing on the edge of precipices, like mediae-\\nval towers, and through village after village tucked away\\nin the hills. The abundance of population is a constant\\nsurprise. As we proceed, the people are wilder and\\nmuch more curious about us, having, it is evident, seen\\nfew strangers lately. Women and children, half-dressed\\nin dirty rags which do not hide the form, come out from\\ntheir low stone huts upon the windy terraces, and stand,\\narms akimbo, staring at us, and, not seldom, hailing us\\nin harsh voices. Their sole dress is often a single split\\nnnd torn gown, not reaching to the bare knees, evidently\\nthe original of those in the Naples ballet (it will, no doubt,\\nbe different when those creatures exchange the ballet for\\nthe ballot) and, with their tangled locks and dirty faces,\\nthey s\\\\ifim rather beasts than women. Are their hus-\\nbands brigands, and are they in wait for us in the chest-\\nnut grove yonder\\nThe grove is charming; and the men we meet there\\ngathering sticks are not so surly as the women. They\\npoint the way and, when we emerge from the wood, St\\nMaria a Cadtello is before us on a height, ifc5 white and", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0302.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "ST. MARIA A CASTELLO. 2.%\\\\\\nred church shining in the sun. We climb up to it. In\\nfront is a broad, flagged terrace and on the edge are deep\\nwells in the rock, from which we draw cool v/ater. Plen-\\ntifully victualed, one could stand a siege here, and per-\\nhaps did in the gamey Middle Ages. Monk or soldier\\nneed not wish a pleasanter place to lounge. Adjoining\\nthe church, but lower, is a long, low building with three\\nrooms, at once house and stable, the stable in the centre,\\nthough all of them have hay in the lofts. The rooms do\\nnot communicate. That is the w) ole of the town of St.\\nMaria a Castello.\\nIn one of the apartments, some rough-looking peasants\\nare eating dinner, a frugal meal a dish of unclean po-\\nlenta, a plate of grated cheese, a basket of wormy figs,\\nand some sour red wine no bread, no meat. They\\nlooked at us askance, and with no sign of hospitality.\\nWe made friends, however, with the ragged children,\\none of whom took great delight in exhibiting his litter of\\npuppies; and we at length so far Avorked into the good\\ngraces of the family, that the mother was prevailed upon\\nto get us some milk and eggs. I followed the woman\\ninto one of the apartments to superintend the cooking\\nof the eggs. It was a mere den, with an earth floor. A\\nAre of twigs was kindled against the farther wall, and a\\nlittle girl, half-naked, carrying a baby still more economi-\\ncally clad, was stooping down to blow the smudge into a\\nflame. The smoke, some of it, went over our heads out\\nat the door. We boiled the eggs. We desired salt and\\nthe woman brought us pepper in the berry. We insisted\\non salt, and at length got the rock variety, which we\\npounded on the rocks. We ate our eggs and drank our\\nmilk on the terrace, with the entire family interested\\n?p(^ctators. The men were the hardest-looking ruffians\\nire had met yet they were making a bit of road near\\n^y, but they seemed capable of tu)-ning Lheir hands to\\neasier money-getting; and there couldn t be a more con-\\nvenient place than this.\\nWhen our lepast was over, and 1 had drank a g;las5", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0303.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "284 ST. MARIA A CASTE LLO.\\nof wine with the proprietor, I offered fo pay him, ten\\ndering what I knew was a fair price in this region.\\nWith some indignation of gesture, he refused it, intimat-\\ning that it was too little. He seemed to be seeking; an\\nexcuse for a quarrel with us; so I pocketed the affront,\\nmoney and all, and turned away. He appeared to be\\nsurprised, and going in-doors presently came out with a\\nbottle of wine and glasses, and followed us down upon\\nthe rocks, pressing us to drink. Most singular conduct\\nno doubt drugged wine travellers put into deep sleep\\nrobbed thrown over precipice diplomatic correspond\\nence, flattering, but no compensation to them. Either\\nthis, or a case of hospitality. We dechned to drink,\\nand the brigand went away.\\nWe sat down upon the jutting ledge of a precipice,\\nthe like of which is not in the world on our left, the\\nrocky, bare side of St. Angelo, against which the sun-\\nshine dashes in waves; below us, sheer down two thou-\\nsand feet, the city of Positano, a nest of brown houses,\\nthickly clustered on a conical spur, and lying along the\\nshore, the home of three thousand people, with a run-\\nning jump I think I could land in the midst of it, a\\npygmy city, inhabited by mites, as we look down upon it;\\na little beach of white sand, a sail-boat lying on it, and\\nsome fishermen just embarking a long hotel on the\\nbeach beyond, by the green shore, a country seat\\ncharmingly situated amid trees and vines higher up, the\\nravine-seamed hill, little stone huts, bits of ruin, towers,\\narches. How still it is I All the stiller that I can, now\\nand then, catch the sound of an axe, and hear the shouts\\nof some children in a garden below. How still the sea\\nis How many ages has it been so Does the purple\\nmist always hang there upon the waters of Salerno Bay,\\nforever hiding from the gaze Pjestum and its temples,\\nand all that shore which is so much more Grecian than\\nRoman\\nAftei all, it is a satisfaction to turn to the towering\\nrock of Ht. Angplo not a rree, not a shrub, not a spirt", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0304.jp2"}, "305": {"fulltext": "ST. MARIA A CASTE LLO. 285\\njf grass, on its perpendicular side. We try to anal)z\u00c2\u00ab\\nthe satisfaction there is in such a bald, treeless, verdure-\\nless mass. ^Ve can grasp it intellectually, in its sharp\\nsolidity, which is undisturbed by any ornament it is, to\\nthe mind, like some complete intellectual performance\\nthe mind rests on it, like a demonstration in Euclid.\\nAnd yet what a color of beauty it takes on in the\\ndistance\\nWhen we return, the bandits have all gone to their\\nroad-making the suspicious landlord is nowhere to be\\nseen. We call the woman from the field, and give her\\nmoney, which she seemed not to expect, and for whicfc\\nshe shows no gratitude. Life appears to be indifferent\\nto these people. But, if these be brigands, we prefer\\nthem to those of Naples, and even to the inn-keepers of\\nEngland. As we saunter home in the pleasant after-\\nnoon, the vesper-bells are calling to each other, making\\nthe sweetest echoes of peace everywhere in the hills, and\\nall the piano is jubilant with them, as we come down\\nthe steeps at sunset.\\nYou see there was no danger, said the giant to hia\\nwife, that evening, at the supper-table.\\nYou would have found there was danger, if you had\\ngone, returned the wife of the giant significantly.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0305.jp2"}, "306": {"fulltext": "THE MYTH OF THE SIRENS.\\nrLTKE to walk upon the encircling ridge behind S(/r-\\nrento, which commands both bays. From there 1\\ncan look down upon the Isles of the Sirens. The top is\\na broad, windy strip of pasture, which falls off abruptly\\nto the Bay of Salerno on the south a regular embank-\\nment of earth runs along the side of the precipitous\\nsteeps, towards Sorrento. It appears to be a line of\\ndefence for musketry, such as our armies used to throw\\nup whether the French, who conducted siege operations\\nfrom this promontory on Capri, under Murat, had any\\nthing to do with it, does not appear.\\nWalking there yesterday, we met a woman shep-\\nherdess, cowherd, or siren standing guard over three\\nsteers while they fed a scantily-clad, brown woman,\\nwho had a distaff in her hand, and spun the flax as she\\nwatched the straying cattle, an example of double\\nindustry which the men who tend herds never imitate.\\nVery likely her ancestors so spun and tended cattle on\\nthe plains of Thessaly. We gave the rigid woman good-\\nmorning, but she did not heed or reply we made some\\ninquiries as to paths, but she ignored us we bade her\\ngood-day, and she scowled at us she only spun. She\\nwas so out of tune with the people, and the gentle influ-\\nences of this region, that we could only regard her as an\\nanomaly, the representative of some perversity and evi!\\ngenius, which, no doubt, lurks here as it does elsewhere in\\ntJ C world She could not have descended from eithci\\n286", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0306.jp2"}, "307": {"fulltext": "THE MYTH OF THE SIRENS. 287\\n\u00c2\u00bbf the groups of the Sh-eus; for she was not fascinating\\nenough to be fatal.\\nI like to look upon these islets or rocks of the Sirens,\\nbarren and desolate, with a few ruins of the Roman time\\nand remains of the Middle- Age prisons of the doges of\\nAmalfl but I do not care to dissipate any illusions by\\ngoing to them. I remember how the Sirens sat on flow-\\nery meads by the shore, and sang, and are vulgarly\\nsupposed to have allured passing mariners to a life of\\nignoble pleasure, and then let them perish, hungry wL:h\\nall unsatisfied longings. The bones of these unfortunates,\\nwhitening on the rocks, of which Virgil speaks, I could\\nnot see. Indeed, I think any one who lingers long in this\\nregion will doubt if they were ever there, and will come\\nto believe that the characters of the Sirens are popularly\\nmisconceived. Allowing Ulysses to be only another\\nname for the sun-god, who appears in myths as Indra,\\nApollo, William Tell, the sure-hitter, the great archer,\\nwhose arrows are sunbeams, it is a degrading conception\\nof him that he was obliged to lash himself to the mast\\nwhen he went into action with the Sirens, like Farragut\\nat Mobile, though for a very different reason. We should\\nbe forced to believe that Ulysses was not free from the\\nbasest mortal longings, and that he had not strength of\\nmind to resist them, but must put himself in durance as\\nour moderns, who cannot control their desires, go into\\ninebriate asylums.\\nMr. Ruskin says that the Sirens are the great con-\\nstant desires, the infinite sicknesses of heart, which,\\nrightly placed, give life, and, wrongly placed, waste it\\naway so that there are two groups of Sirens, one noble\\nand saving, as the other is fatal. Unfortunately we are\\nall, as were the Greeks, ministered unto by both these\\ngroups, but can fortunately, on the other hand, choose\\nwhich group we will listen to the singing of, though the\\nstrains are somewhat mingled as, for instance, in the\\nmodern opera, where the music quite as often wastes\\nlife away, as gives to it the energy of pure desire. Yet,", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0307.jp2"}, "308": {"fulltext": "288 THE MYTH OF THE SIRENS,\\nif I were to locate the Sirens geographically, 1 should\\nplace the beneficent desires on this coast, and the danger-\\nous ones on that of wicked Baias to which group the\\nfounder of Naples no doubt belonged.\\nNowhere, perhaps, can one come nearer to the beau-\\ntiful myths of Greece, the springlike freshness of the\\nidyllic and heroic age, than on this Sorrentine promon-\\ntory. It was no chance that made the.-e coasts the home\\nof the kind old monarch Eolus, inventor of sails and\\nstorm-signals. On the Telegrafb di Mare C uccola is a\\nrule signal-apparatus for communication with Capri,\\nto ascertain if wind and wave are propitious for entrance\\nto the Blue Grotto, which probably was not erected by\\nEolus, alihough he doubtless used this sightly spot as\\none of his stations. That he dwelt here, in great content,\\nwith his six sons and six daughters, the Months, is nearly\\ncertain and I feel as sure that the Sirens, whose islands\\nwere close at hand, were elevators and not destroyers of\\nthe primitive races living here.\\nIt seems to me this must be so because the pilgrim,\\nwho surrenders himself to the influences of these peace-\\nful and sun-inundated coasts, under this sky which the\\nbright Athena loved and loves, loses, by and by, those\\nlongings and heart-sicknesses which waste away his life,\\nand comes under the dominion, more and more, of those\\nconstant desires after that which is peaceful and endur-\\ning and has the saving quality of purity. I know, indeed,\\nthat it is not always so and that, as Boreas is a better\\nnurse of rugged virtue than Zephyr, so the soft influences\\nof this clime only minister to the fatal desires of some\\nand such are likely to sail speedily back to Naples.\\nThe Sirens, indeed, are everywhere and I do not know\\nthat we can go anywhere that we shall escape the infi-\\nnite longings, or satisfy them. Here, in the purple twi-\\nlight of history, they ojQTered men the choice of good and\\nevil. I have a fancy, that, in stepping out of the whirl\\nof modern life upon a quiet headland, so blessed of two\\npowers, the air and the sea, we are able to come to a", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0308.jp2"}, "309": {"fulltext": "THE MYTH OF THE SIRENS. 289\\ntruer perception of the drift of the eternal desires within\\nus. But I cannot say whether it is a subtle fascination,\\nlinked with these mythic and moral influences, or only\\nthe physical loveliness of this promontory, that lures\\ntravellers hither, and detains them on flowery meads.", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0309.jp2"}, "310": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0310.jp2"}, "311": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0311.jp2"}, "312": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0312.jp2"}, "313": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0313.jp2"}, "314": {"fulltext": "FEB a 1900", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0314.jp2"}, "315": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2722", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0315.jp2"}, "316": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS\\n020 678 888 4", "height": "2874", "width": "1932", "jp2-path": "saunterings02warn_0316.jp2"}}