# Three Years in Europe, 1868 to 1871/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.
Paris, the Rhine, Switzerland and North Italy, August 1871.
We left London on the 14th August, and reached Paris on the 15th, i.e., the birth-day of the Great Napoleon. The passage across the channel was rough as it always is, but like hardy sailors (!) we got through safe without any sea-sickness, though most of the passengers on board were in a most distressed condition. Paris the most splendid city in the world is now in ruins. The long siege, and more specially the rising of the communists have caused a great deal of injury to the town, and broken down some of her finest buildings.
The "Hotel de Ville," which was decorated with the finest specimens of art, and was in fact the national hall of France, has been utterly demolished and burnt down. Paris in ruins.The splendid "Palais Royal" is in ruins, the column of "Vendome," which commemorated the victories of the First Napoleon and was a monument of the glories of France has been thrown down, and only the base remains on which you see beautiful carvings. Even the Tuilleries, the residence of the Kings and Emperors of France, have been seriously injured, and in some places totally demolished, and one feels a strange sort of feeling as he walks about these deserted gardens and lingers near the desolated walls and statues. Notwithstanding however these ​ruins, a stranger cannot but be struck with the beauty of Paris, and as he walks through the brilliantly illuminated streets or the thronged boulevards, he almost thinks that the whole town is devoted to mirth and festivity. The streets are regular and cleanly, with trees on both sides and at night brilliantly illuminated. The cafés blaze with light and splendour at night, and invite the stranger to a few cups of coffee or a few glasses of liquor! The whole town seems to be a seat of mirth, jollity and festivity, and looks very little like a place which has passed lately through war, siege and misfortune. It is only when you come to some ruined place, or stand by some demolished edifice that you are reminded of the hurricane that has swept by.
During our stay in Paris we stopped at the Hotel du Louvre, a fine hotel facing the "Louvre," whence it takes its name. Louvre.The "Louvre" is a princely palace contiguous to the Tuilleries, and has fortunately escaped the ravages of war. We went into the "Louvre" to see the noble collection of statues and pictures kept in the place.
The "Arch of Triumph" in Paris is a splendid edifice raised by the First Napoleon to commemorate his victories, and has fortunately suffered no injury whatever from the late disasters. Arch of triumph.On it you see some beautiful sculptures on relief, and the names of all the victories of the Great Napoleon (a good round number I can assure you) are inscribed on its walls. We ascended on its top and had an extensive view of the whole of Paris and the Seine. ​What a splendid view it was,—what a regular and fine-built town Paris is! The Seine is a beautiful river, and unlike the Thames which is dirty near London, is perfectly limpid. Notre Dame.We went down the Seine by steamer to the magnificent church of Notre Dame, which for elaborate carvings and workmanship beats all other churches in France. This church is the subject of a celebrated novel of Victor Hugo. There is another splendid edifice in Paris which has also escaped the ravages of war and which every Frenchman looks on with feelings of pride and veneration. It is the "Hotel des Invalides" which contains the tomb of the Great Napoleon, his body having been brought Irom St. Helena and deposited here. Napoleon's tomb.Near this tomb are inscribed his own words which in English would run thus:—'I desire that when I die, my ashes be deposited by the banks of the Seine, among the French people whom I have loved so well.' The tomb is in the centre of a marble hall surrounded by marble pillars and marble statues, and under a magnificent dome, whose glittering gilded outside is seen from miles afar. At one time this tomb was surrounded by, I think, 190 standards which he had brought from various countries and various fields of battle as trophies of his victories. These have now been removed.
From Paris we went to St. Cloud, a favourite resort of the emperors of France. On our way we saw the Enciente, i.e., the wall round St. Cloud.Paris with marks of shot and shell everywhere. ​The palace of St. Cloud has been burnt down, but the gardens and avenues are of course as beautiful as in the days of their glory. We stopped here only two hours and then went to Verseilles.
The magnificent palace of Verseilles was built by Louis XIV., the most powerful of the kings of France. Verseilles is now the seat of Government, and so the palace apartments were all occupied, as offices, &c. Verseilles.We managed however to get into the "National Assembly" and to the interior of the palace occupied as it was. We went from room to room beautifully decorated and filled with the finest pictures portraying the glories of France. The rooms are spacious and splendid and overlook a fine garden. The Verseilles gardens are noted far and wide, and are said to be the most beautiful in the world. Beautiful walks, shady avenues, fountains and ornamental waters, curious grottos, and secluded seats, all combine to make the garden a fairy land.
In the evening we met with a most curious adventure! When we came to the railway station to book for Paris, we were required by a Police officer to shew our passport. We did so and he seemed to be satisfied. An unfortunate adventure.Soon after however he came up to us and asked us to follow him to the guard-house to have our passport examined! I believe our foreign costume had aroused his suspicions, and he took us for communists! He seemed to be polite enough and informed us on our way to the guard-house that Paris and Verseilles swarmed with ​communists and that he had therefore considered it his duty to conduct us to the guard-house to have us examined. At the guard-house we were met by the officer in charge, a petty hakim, who in a rather insolent manner required us to produce our passport. Though it had been viséd by the French consul, he seemed to have his doubts about it. As we did not know French sufficiently well to enable us to carry on conversation in that language, he put us a few questions on paper. He wrote down that we had been arrested as strangers without proper papers, and inquired if we had anything to say in reply. In answer to this, we wrote down that the passport, which we had produced, had been viséd by the French consul. He treated the passport with contempt and peremptorily demanded proofs of our identity! Any satisfactory evidence on this point, it was of course impossible to produce on the spot. We produced what proofs we could, including some letters addressed to one of us which we happened to have with us. This, of course, was not considered satisfactory, specially as they were in English, and we were sent under an escort to the Police bureau. The Commissaire not happening to be in, we were, without any further ceremony, locked up for the night in a miserable cell, and with no better accommodation than a wide wooden bench for bed! We were kept in that place for twelve hours, and about ten o'clock in the morning we were brought before the Police commissaire. He read the report of the officer who had arrested us, examined our passport, and failed to discover why we had been arrested! We were at once released, and on our ​expressing our desire to bring the matter to the notice of the higher authorities, he unhesitatingly gave us a note certifying that we had been arrested without any proper cause having been assigned. We went with this paper to the Police Prefecture, represented the circumstances of the arrest, and were asked to put them down on paper. The officials expressed regret for what had happened, and assured us that the officer who had arrested us would be dismissed from the service. With this assurance we had to be content! We were fortunate that we were not tried and shot on mere suspicion, as many an innocent man has been in these dark days!
From Verseilles we came back to Paris, and left it on the morning of the 18th August for Cologne on the Rhine. Cologne.On our way we passed through Belgium, a fine hilly country. In the evening we reached Cologne famed for its Eau-de-Cologne, but certainly one of the dirtiest spots that I have seen. Next morning we took the steamer which was to take us to Mayence. The Rhine is a noble river and flows through varied scenes. The Rhine.On both sides the hills are covered with vines, while every here and there the ruined castles, and tower of feudal ages stand on the tops of the hills frowning on the waters below. From Cologne to Bohn the scene was comparatively tame, but from Bohn the scene changed and became more and more wild every hour. Soon after we had passed Bohn we came to the "Seven hills" on the highest of which stands the ruined castle of Drachenfells in solitary grandeur.
​You remember Byron's lines:—
"The castled crag of Drachenfells Looks o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks that hear the vine, And hills all rich with blossomed trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scattered cities crowning these Whose far white walls along them shine."
Slowly we went up the Rhine admiring the beautiful scenery on both sides of us, and passed the noble castle and town of Coblenz, frowning on the Rhine. After we had left Coblenz the scene changed again and became exquisitely beautiful, and the winding Rhine appeared more like an interminable chain of pretty lakes than like a river. Now you would find yourself encompassed on all sides by beautiful vine-covered hills, the steamer gliding slowly over what is apparently a quiet, pretty lake,—a few moments after, you pass one of the windings—the whole scene is changed, and you find yourself in another lake perhaps still more beautiful. And thus the river goes on winding and meandering and presenting new scenes and discovering new beauties at every winding. The scenery was magnificent.
From Mayence we went to Baden-Baden, a beautiful spot bosomed in the midst of verdant hills and a favourite haunt of tourists. The place is noted for the vast deal of gambling which goes on here morning, noon, and night. Baden-Baden.The gambling halls are brilliantly lighted up, and you see the tables crowded with people all deeply engaged with their jingling gold and silver, and losing and winning them as fast as ​possible. From the next year, however, all gambling will be prohibited by the Government here.
From Baden-Baden we went to see the magnificent falls of the Rhine near Schaffhousen in Switzerland. Magnificent falls indeed! Schaffhousen.A world of waters foams and rushes from crag to crag and through vast masses of rock with indescribable beauty and grandeur, while the spray which rises like a white mist from the falls, forms a beautiful and bright rainbow against the sun, eternally bending over these falls,—"beauty watching over madness."
From the falls we went to Zurich, a fine town situated on a fine lake and thence to Lucerne, an old town situated by the lake of Lucerne, perhaps the prettiest lake in Europe. Zurich.This charming lake glitters in the midst of high mountains whose snowy tops glisten in the sun. Lucerne.We ascended the Rigi (6,000 ft.) by a Railway train. It is quite a novel thing in its way, the engine is behind the carriage and pushes it on, while besides the two rails on the two sides there is a third rail which is indented so as to prevent the carriage and the engine from sliding down. Rigi.The view from the top is certainly one of the best that I have ever seen. Beneath us we saw the lakes of Lucerne and Zug, blue as emerald and calm and beautiful—as beautiful they could be—while the towns of Zug and Lucerne situated on their respective lakes glistened in the sun. The steamers or sails floating on the calm blue surface of the lakes looked ​like small specks from the height, while field after field with small elevations and declivities, which could scarcely be marked from the top of Rigi seemed stretching on as far as the eye could reach. All this was however on the north and east. Towards the south and west you would see mountains, nothing but mountains, magnificent peaks penetrating through all mist and cloud, and
"Throning eternity in icy halls."
So noble a scene I had never seen before, and a more magnificent one it is certainly impossible to conceive.
Flulen, another part of Lake Lucerne that we saw, is said to be "one of the most magnificent scenes in Europe, Flulen.if not in the world." The quiet lake, and the noble mountains, on both sides of us formed a scene picturesque indeed.
We reached Interlaken in the evening and saw the far-off cliff of Jung Frau covered with snow and glittering under the brilliant light of a cloudless moon. Jung Frau.The romantic town of Interlaken we left next morning. We went across the lake in a steamer and reached Berne by train in the afternoon.
Berne the chief town of Switzerland makes a good show with its magnificent cathedral, well-built houses, and cleanly streets. Berne.From Berne we had a fine view of the noble range of the Bernese Alps covered with snow and glittering in the sun. From Berne we went to Lausanne on the lake of Geneva where, as you know, Gibbon finished his history of Rome. Lausanne.The spot where he finished his history is now occupied by the "Gibbon Hotel." The lake of Geneva is a fine lake as you must know from the descriptions of Byron and Rogers. On its shore we saw Clarens, "the birth-place of deep love," as Byron calls it, and a favourite resort of "the self-torturing sophist wild Rousseau." It is indeed a lovely spot with the glittering lake of Geneva in its front, and high wooded mountains behind.
Passing further on we came to that dreadful castle "never to be named," the Castle of Chillon. Chillon.It is almost entirely ​surrounded by deep water and connected by a bridge with the mainland. We went into the dark subterranean chamber where for six years the gallant Bonivard was chained to one of the pillars in darkness and misery for having fought for the liberty of the people of Geneva. We saw the pillar to which he was chained as also one of the links of the identical chain. Byron has inscribed his name on one of the pillars here.
From Chillon we went to Geneva, the other end of the lake. As our steamer went on we saw on one side the dark range of Jura, and on the other the lordly Alps. Geneva.They reminded me of those noble lines of Byron where he describes a tempest in lake Geneva:—
"And Jura answers from her misty shrowd Back to the joyous Alps who called to her aloud."
Geneva, the birth-place of Rousseau and Sismondi, is a fine and busy town beautifully situated on the spot where the Rhone meets the lake of Geneva. As it was not a very clear day, we could but imperfectly see the far off Mont Blank covered with snow.
As one travels through this beautiful mountainous country he cannot fail being struck with the happy condition of even the lowest classes of the people. The Swiss Peasantry.Go to the poorest villages, and you will see the beautiful and neatly varnished and painted wooden huts which are peculiar to Switzerland, with carefully cultivated fields and lawns adjoining them, and a happy and contented ​peasantry, passionately fond of their homes and country. In neatness, in intelligence, and even in a gentleman-like sense of politeness, the Swiss peasant presents a marked contrast to the peasantry of most other European countries, and notably of England. Women comfortably seated out-side their huts and sewing their linen in the sun, and healthy little children neatly dressed, and running about in the neat and garden-like fields, form an interesting sight to be seen only among the peasantry of this happy repubiic. But to our tale.
As we were desirous of seeing the pass of St. Gothard, perhaps the most magnificent pass in Europe, we came back to Lucerne, and thence by Diligence we went through the pass of St. Gothard to come to Italy. The name St. Gothard applies only to one particular portion of the long and continuous mountain pass leading from Switzerland to Italy. St. Gothard Pass.A really magnificent pass it is, through which Hannibal and Napoleon are supposed to have marched. The beetling cliffs towered high over our head in dread sublimity, while a foaming and roaring rivulet leaped from crag to crag and ran just by our side. We gradually went up until we reached the highest part of the pass. Here we passed the celebrated Hospental and the real pass of St. Gothard as well as a lake 7,000 feet above the level of the sea. The descent was of course more rapid than the ascent. We travelled all night, had only 10 minutes allotted to us for breakfast, and travelled the whole day and did not reach Como till in the afternoon, covered with dust, and pretty well tired!
​Como in Italy is a fine town situated on a fine lake. Como.On our way we had passed by the lake of Lugano which is also a pretty lake. A good bath in the lake of Como in the afternoon we reached the place, and a hearty dinner which followed, made us quite forget the toil of the preceding night's travelling. Milan.From Como we went to Milan and saw the fine cathedral, built entirely of white marble, and which, in the richness of carvings and beauty of decorations is superior to all other cathedrals in Europe.
From Milan we went to Venice. A wonderful town Venice is as you can very well imagine, with the sea ebbing and flowing through her streets, with her splendid churches and cathedrals, princely domes and cupolas, and the associations of a thousand years lingering about her decayed palaces. A lovely place this queen of the sea, this wreck of an ancient and mighty republic!
"She looks a sea cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers, At airy distance with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers; And such she was!————————"
​the destinies of nations. The palace is connected with the prison by a bridge—the well-known "Bridge of Sighs"—through which we were led to the terrible prison. So that I can say with Byron,—
"I stood upon the Bridge of Sighs A palace and a prison on each hand, I saw from out the waves her structures rise As from a stroke of the enchanter's wand; A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Looked to the winged lion's marble piles Where Venice sate in state throned on her hundred isles."
I cannot describe to you adequately the dark prisons that we saw. The prisons for the criminals were miserable holes, completely dark, with almost suffocating atmosphere, and with pieces of wood for beds, and small holes in the walls for food to be thrown in. We felt a chill of horror as we conceived the pangs every prisoner must have undergone in those cells, when the massive doors were closed upon them, perhaps not to be opened for years to come. We passed by these, and then came to the political prisons,—if possible still more terrible than the prisons for the criminals. The cells of the political prisoners were closer than the others, and even the pieces of wood which served as beds to the criminals were denied to the political prisoners. Miserable, damp, dark, dirty cells, without seat, without bed, with hardly air enough for breathing, without one ray of the light of heaven, such are the places where many a noble-minded prisoner has lingered away his existence. Near these cells we saw the place where the prisoners were executed, the hole through which the ​blood of the victims ran down to the waters, and the small gate through which the carcasses, were thrown down. I shall never forget the feeling of horror which oppressed my mind as I went through these scenes of cruelty.
Near this place and prison is the famous St. Mark's Square, a large open space, and by it is St. Mark's Church, a splendid edifice decorated with fine pictures within, some of them by celebrated painters. There, too, we saw beautiful sculpture works, as well as pillars brought from different parts of the world by the victorious Venitians, from Egypt, Constantinople, Jerusalem, &c.
Outside the church are the celebrated brass horses, which Constantine took from Rome to Constantinople, whence they were brought to Venice by the victorious Venitians; from Venice they were taken to Paris by the Great Napoleon, and thence they have been brought back to Venice again. There too is the golden lion,—the winged lion of Venice. Besides this church we saw several other churches all splendid, as Italian churches generally are, and containing sculpture works by Canova and other noted artists.
From Venice a steamer took us to Brindisi, whence we are steering for Bombay. We left Venice on the 2nd September and expected to reach Bombay on the 22nd.