From Vermont to Damascus

June 5, 1895.

We bade good-by to Constantinople at 5 P.M. Wednesday. Thursday morn at six we were called upon in our berth for our passports, as we had finished up the territory of Turkey and were ready to enter Bulgaria. We soon satisfied the Bulgarians that we were all right.

From appearances we had a mutual admiration for each other, as we had seen Turks enough; and the Bulgarians, no doubt, had more love for an American than a Turk, as it is only a few years since they freed themselves from Turkish rule by hard-fought battles.

Our engine was soon speeding its way up a beautiful valley, coursing along a beautiful river, nearly as large as the Connecticut. We seemed to breathe a freer atmosphere than in the land we had just left. The towns we passed through looked thrifty, the people happy.

Bulgaria was filled with Greek Christians, and the Turks oppressed them so heavily that they rebelled; and the Russians came in, and helped them gain their freedom.

We could see away ahead in the distance the Balkan Mountains. Over these mountains came the Russians, who with the Bulgarians fought the Turks the whole length of this beautiful valley we are travelling over, driving them clear to Constantinople. As we passed along, we saw a great many mounds, some twenty-five feet diameter at the base, ten or more feet high, and learned on inquiry they were places where the soldiers were buried. Hence all the forenoon we were passing over a battlefield.

About noon we were in plain view of the mountains over which our big engine was to take us. These mountains seemed to be heavily wooded. The river was beginning to run rapidly; and we found the people were using the water power to run saw-mills, cutting out lumber by the train-load.

Our engine tugged and puffed away vigorously, and at times we moved slowly; but on we went, and about three o’clock were on top of the mountain, where we accelerated our speed, and went plunging down the other side, and at six o’clock we had crossed Bulgaria, and were ready to enter Servia, and of course had to pull out our passports again. Here we had our dinner; and everything was looked over by a set of red-tape fellows, that appeared to have a great weight of responsibility upon themselves. But we took things easily, and soon after our train started we were tucked away in our berth for a good night’s rest and sleep, waking early the next morning as we were going into a lovely city, embowered in trees and shrubbery and flowers, located where she could dip her feet into the beautiful Danube; and it proved to be the city of Belgrade, the largest city in Servia. Here is located the king’s palace.

In passing through Bulgaria, we became much interested in the people. They seemed industrious, mostly in agricultural pursuits, raising corn and large quantities of winter rye.

Bulgaria is in about the same latitude as Vermont, though I think the crops are more forward than they are in Vermont. The corn was being hoed, and the rye will be ready to harvest in about two weeks.

Here the ladies—for they looked like ladies—worked in the field. They had on their red skirts and Zouave jackets, some of them gayly trimmed, and looked jaunty. We saw but few men in the field. They seemed to do the ploughing, the hoeing being done by the women.

It is a question whether women’s rights do not prevail here, and the men are at home making the bread and taking care of the children; but the women and girls looked fresh and healthy, and swung the hoe vigorously.

At every station you see armed police. They wear white coats and caps, blue trousers with gilt buttons and trimmings; and we called them handsome.

We enjoyed our ride through Bulgaria exceedingly. At Belgrade we had to be overhauled again by the government dignitaries, as we were to cross the Danube and enter Hungary and Austria. Hand-bags and everything had to go to the custom-house. Cigars, whiskey, and dynamite seemed to be the articles they were looking for, one about as destructive as the other. The Congregational party had no trouble with anything but the former, and not heavily loaded with that; but, after one hour of unrolling of red tape and haggling away, our train was crossing the Danube over a beautiful, substantial bridge. Passing through Servia in the night, we shall not be able to trumpet forth her glory, but will merely say it is a good country to sleep in, and Belgrade, her capital, looked fine.

After we crossed the Danube, we swept out into a level plain, and soon were lost in a fertile prairie, beautiful land so far as the eye could reach, looking like the West, only it was dotted over with trees that added to its beauty.

In this country the women take the same part in the field as in Bulgaria; and we see but little improvement in farming tools, although we saw them ploughing with ploughs that had mould boards turning the furrow, and two small wheels running in front. On these ploughs there were two and three yoke of oxen, even in light ploughing.

The oxen are the same breed that we saw at Rome,—white, with very large horns running up into the air.

About noon we were running through a country of clay soil and much standing water, and evidently the people had studied gooseology; for no Vermonter ever saw such flocks of geese. One hundred in a flock was no surprise, and we were leaving one flock and running into another for hours.

At one o’clock our train pulled into a spacious depot, and we found ourselves in an American-looking city of five hundred thousand people, called Budapest, lying on the Danube, occupying both sides of the river. We took carriages for the hotel, where we remained one day.

I hardly know how to hold up the town before you that you may get a glimpse of its beauty. The place is but little known, but is rapidly coming to the front, and, if not already, will soon be the finest city in Europe. We come into it sweeping over the Peakos valley. As you look upon the city and beyond, you see the advance guard or picket line of the mighty Alps coming gracefully down to the Danube. On one of these shoulders or arms of the mountain the king has his palace, with his terraced gardens in front, of walks, trees, shrubbery, and flowers, coming down to the Danube, and in the sunlight cast their reflections in its waters, and become the crowning point of a beautiful picture.

The Danube goes sweeping down through the city. One side is level, where the great marts of business have gathered, throwing up massive buildings, not as high as those of Chicago, but from five to eight stories, beautiful in structure, with statuary and ornamentation that the most artistic eye cannot criticise.

Her streets are broad, and look as if they had been swept and garnished. All over her borders are commons and small parks, beautiful with art as well as nature. On the other side of the river, as I said before, are those graceful elevations coming down from the Alps. Upon these has climbed the residence part of Budapest, or at least from appearance the wealthy have gone up there, building fine residences, giving a fine background to the lovely city.

Budapest has considerable manufacturing. It is said to have a model flouring mill, from which the mills of Minneapolis were patterned. She has the finest suspension bridge in the world, spanning the Danube, costing two and a quarter millions. Near the bridge in the square are mounted two splendid statues of distinguished Hungarians. One is Count Stephen Szechenyi, who stands there resting his eye upon two of his great creations: one is the suspension bridge, and the other is the Hungarian Academy of Science. The other statue is Francis Deak, the sage of the country, sitting on a magnificent pedestal. This great statesman succeeded in composing the contentions that had lasted years between Hungary and Austria, and turning them into relations of firm friendship, and has proved a great blessing to both nations.

From the suspension bridge, along the river bank for a long distance, is what is called the Corso. Here runs a beautiful street that carriages are not allowed on in the evening. This is lined with gardens and small parks; and, being on the banks of the river, it is charming. Here you must take a stroll in the evening, and see the brave men and fair women, as well as children, of Budapest. Nowhere in our travels have we seen a people apparently so happy. In going through this Corso, you will see thousands of ladies and gentlemen, also children, in gay attire, some walking, others sitting at their little tables, partaking of some light viands with water or lemonade, chatting merrily. We saw but very little beer or wine, nothing in the way of drunkenness or rowdyism. The people seem to spend much time out doors; and we have seen very few sickly, puny-looking people. God’s fresh air and exercise seem to be a panacea for all ills.

Budapest, we understand, has fine schools, museums, art galleries, etc., which we did not have time to visit.

Saturday, June 9, we took our train for Vienna, a run of five hours. Our travel through Austria has been a succession of surprises, finding it a beautiful farming country and scenery unsurpassed anywhere. In travelling through this country, some of our party have had their faces badly twisted by trying to pronounce the names of the stations and towns as we come along, such as Tzaribrab, Szabadka, Kiskoros, etc.; but it probably will not be lasting, and our friends will have no trouble in picking us out when we return.

We reached Vienna Saturday evening, and are quartered at the Hotel Oesterreichischen, and shall remain here until Wednesday morning, when we leave for Paris, being eight hundred and fifty miles. The run is made in twenty-four hours.

Vienna has some sixteen hundred thousand people, and is near the Danube. There are two small tributaries of the Danube that run through the city.

Vienna is known the world over, and it will be foolish for me to weary you in taking you through the city or pointing out things that you are familiar with. You will remember her bread at the World’s Fair at Philadelphia in 1876, and we find she still retains the art. So we are enjoying that part of the table d’hôte. Vienna at one time was a walled city, that was when her borders were narrow to what they are now; but the city grew, and they built outside, and the wall became of little use and was taken away, and the ground was made into a boulevard, and is called the Ringstrasse. It is a circular street now in the centre of the city, and to go around it will make a trip of some three miles. It is one hundred and eighty-five feet wide. There are three drive-ways for carriages; but each side of the centre one are walks for the people, some forty feet wide, lined each side with trees. These with generous sidewalks next to the buildings make a great thoroughfare, and nearly all of the public buildings and fine residences are on this boulevard. You will find crowds moving on the Ringstrasse at all times of day and night.

One thing new we saw at Budapest, also here in Vienna, is the way they drive many of their single teams. The small wagons, instead of having shafts or thills, as we do in America, have a pole; and the horse is hitched in on the left-hand side as you sit in the wagon. The first one I saw a lady was driving. I came very near going to her and offering her my sympathies. I thought she had been unfortunate, and one of her horses had broken his neck or something else, and she was getting home with one horse the best she could; but she was too lively for me. I was not able to reach her, and was saved the embarrassment; and I soon learned that that was the way they were all driving, but I have no desire to take the fashion home to America.

Sunday, the 9th, we went to the St. Stephen Church. It is the largest cathedral in Austria, tower and spire four hundred and fifty feet high. We heard beautiful music: organ, trumpets, cymbals, and fine voices would take you almost from your feet. We saw them swing the golden censer, burning incense. The rest of it was all Dutch to me.

In one of the chancels of the church was a sarcophagus of Frederic III.

We also took a drive to the king’s summer palace on the outskirts of the city, and went through all its gaudy and elegant rooms, one room only twenty-five feet square costing five hundred thousand dollars, finished in mosaic. The grounds and gardens, which were immense in size, were more enjoyable than the house. Here the king entertains his royal guests that come from other countries.

We also visited the Rathhaus, what we would call a town house. It was a building of great capacity, elegant in finish. In it is one hall three hundred feet long, sixty feet wide, with a colonnade and balcony fifteen feet wide, running the whole length, two rows of chandeliers the length of the hall. This is where they have their banquets and public gatherings. In this building the business of the nation is transacted. The building was dedicated in 1883, the two hundredth anniversary of the nation’s freedom from the Turks. It cost six millions, and is an attractive ornament to Vienna.

I will call your attention to the Capuchin church. Under this church are large vaults, subterranean passages. Here you will find the royal families of Spain and Austria sleeping their last sleep. There are one hundred and ten already placed there. Many of the sealed caskets are kept covered with flowers. Maximilian’s casket was pointed out to us.

It used to be the custom in olden times, when a lady of the royal family was to be married, to place her here the night before the nuptials. One lady died the next morning from the shock this ordeal gave her.

A few minutes’ walk from here we will step into the Augustinian church, and see the beautiful marble statues standing at the tomb of Archduchess Maria Christina, expressing sorrow and benevolence. This was Canova’s masterpiece.

As you go around the Ringstrasse, you will notice a large square or park, with fountains, trees, and flowers. Each side there are imposing-looking buildings. One is the museum, the other is the building of natural history. Though you are going to Paris and London and will have a chance to see great things in this line, yet it will pay you to drop in for a half-day at each place.

The mineral collection in the natural history building is said to be the finest in the world. We saw an opal valued at one million. They have collections from all over the world. Saw Vermont granite and marble, Michigan copper, etc.

The parks and gardens of Vienna are delightful. You must be sure and go to the Prater. This is a vast territory just outside the city, shaded with trees and shrubbery, and is fitted up for all kinds of amusement, restaurants and gardens where you can go and get coffee, lemonade, beer, and anything to eat you desire, bands of music playing in all directions. In the evenings thousands upon thousands of people are gathered here for an hour of enjoyment; and, if you wish to see Vienna in all its life and gayety, then go to the Prater.

As you pass through the streets of Vienna, you will be interested in the express wagons. They are drawn by large dogs, usually men or boys with them, but occasionally women are seen doing the trucking of the city. Wednesday, the 12th, at 9 A.M., our train, the Oriental express for Paris, left the station with all hands on board, and went sweeping out into the country of hills and vales, embowered with trees and shrubbery, among which nestled cottages and villas; and occasionally upon some hill-top would be seen a castle, standing like some monarch, owning all he could survey. Farther on comes the broad field, with the tiller of the soil holding possession.

About 2 P.M. we crossed the line into Germany, where we could see the forest that had been planted in rows, beautiful spruces, tall, straight as arrows, fields of clover and grain,—these views constantly changing.

At four o’clock for miles we went sweeping around the outskirts of Munich, covering acres of plain and level country, dotted over with tall chimneys, and from appearance was a real manufacturing city. Iron, cotton, and leather goods are made here, but the greatest of all productions is her beer. Munich beer is known everywhere, and goes out of Munich every day by the train-loads.

Leaving this place, we soon plunged in among the mountains, following down a meandering river for miles.

We had all day long been drinking in the beautiful scenery, and were thankful that scenery was not intoxicating. If it had been, twilight would have found us in bad condition. We looked about for a Joshua to stay the sun, that we might have daylight all the way to Paris; but not a Joshua to be found. So Night spread her mantle over the scene; and we went to our berths, rising at four the next morning, finding the country as beautiful as ever, though the farming lands from appearance not as fertile as Austria and Germany.

We are now in France, and begin to enter the suburbs of Paris. It is evident that Germany and France pay great attention to forestry. The canals, roads, and everything else seem to be lined with trees, besides acres of forests that have been sown or planted.

We shall remain here some six days, and then push on to London.

Our itinerary is about ended for this side of the Atlantic, and I drop my pen here.

Now I have taken you across the Atlantic, through the Mediterranean, Ægean, and Marmora Seas, have been with you on the Nile, traveled over land with you through Italy, Egypt, Palestine, Syria, Greece, Turkey, Bulgaria, Servia, Hungary, Austria, Germany, and into France, and you ought to be able now to travel alone; for I must hurry away to old Vermont, and to a people that I expect have never looked as handsome to me as they will when I next meet them.

If you get into trouble, write me; and I will send you my passport, and perhaps my letter of credit, although it will probably look thin when I reach Springfield, but there will probably be enough left to help you out. I shall be glad to see you when you return, and we will talk over the sights, scenes, and wonders of the last four months.