XLVIII.
Cracow, Poland, 1848.
Since I last wrote you at Moscow, I have travelled over one thousand miles in Russia and Poland, by mail coach, private post, and lastly by railroad from Warsaw to this place, having had but one upset, without injury, and the breaking of an axle on another occasion, which obliged me to take the common wagon of the country. These wagons are made almost entirely of wood, with little iron, on low wheels, and very light. There not being any seats, the only resource was to fill the wagon with hay, to avoid the jolting. With a pair of good horses, and sometimes four, on the full jump, and a rough peasant driver, one gets over the road rapidly.
I have passed over large tracts of country entirely level, there being no great elevations in central or western Russia—a vast deal of uncultivated and thin soil—long distances made without signs of habitation or life, and presenting a desert appearance—most parts of the country thinly wooded; and it was gladdening to the eye to strike a town or village, to obtain supplies, but particularly gratifying to arrive in Poland, an old and better cultivated country, with more evidence of civilization, and means to support life. The weather has favored me much, being mild and dry, and the roads in good order.
On my arrival at Warsaw, on the banks of the Vistula, a city with a population of one hundred and fifty thousand, I was struck with its dull and sombre appearance, under the iron hand of despotic rule—liberty of thought and speech being suppressed. Here I found the Russian troops were marching out of the city, to take up winter quarters, after a general review. They were composed of thirty-one battalions of infantry, forty-six squadrons and eight divisions of cavalry, twenty batteries of artillery—in all thirty-four thousand men, ten thousand horses, and two hundred and twelve pieces of cannon. It was a brilliant sight to see them on the move. The Russian government is exceedingly jealous of its rights, and determined to maintain its authority. There are three hundred thousand soldiers ready to march to the frontier at a moment’s warning.
A signal telegraph is established from Warsaw to St. Petersburg, but the people here know nothing of the events in Europe. A Warsaw newspaper is a curiosity; it is about six inches square—a double sheet.
On passing the frontier, and coming to Cracow, I was questioned particularly why I was going out of my route on my way to Berlin, as my courier pass expressed; to which I replied I was ahead of time, and wished to see Cracow in passing. The conversation of the officer was of a nature to draw out my views, but I was on my guard. After which, as I was obliged to pass the night there, he was extremely polite, and told me the difficulty he had to obey orders in the visitation of luggage and examination of papers; he was even obliged to take off newspapers as envelopes from packages, to prevent the introduction of news from the adjacent countries.
Europe is in a dreadful state, and as yet there are little signs of conciliation or harmony. Germany with all its great and small kingdoms, with over thirty princes, with its different races, religions, and languages, is as difficult to amalgamate as vinegar, oil, and water, and no man can predict the result.
The horrible massacre at Vienna, the revolution in Hungary, the hanging of ministers, &c., have reached us, and you will see the accounts in the papers. I have been, since February last, either among revolutions, ahead of them, or after them, and have seen the effects produced, so that I have become accustomed to them; but I hope soon to be out of the way of European commotions, and as I have seen all the sights of the Continent with very few exceptions, I shall take my departure for one of the Ocean Isles where may be found some tranquillity, and a better climate for the ensuing winter.
In approaching Cracow, which was formerly a free state or republic, enjoying commercial trade, with a population of forty thousand, it presents a beautiful view with its churches and spires, but on entering it is found lifeless, with but little trade, and a miserable population. It was usurped by Austria in the spring of 1846, after the horrible massacre of the nobles by their own peasants, in Gallicia, through Austrian intrigue, of which you are undoubtedly familiar. The city is antique, and is remarkable for being the former residence of the Polish kings, whose tombs are found in the old cathedral, which was built in the fifteenth century, and which is adjoining the palace, and situated upon a commanding eminence. The cathedral is perhaps richer in treasures and costly gifts, dedicated by nobles, kings, and other devotees, than any north of Italy. In the crypt under the pave of the cathedral into which one descends by torches, are found the massive copper coffins, gilded with gold, of all the Polish kings. Here is also the sarcophagus of the great general, John Sobiesky, with his crown, sceptre, and sword; the remains of Joseph Poniatowski, who fell at Leipsig, and I well recollect the spot where he was lost, and where a monument is erected; likewise the remains of Kosciusko, who is so well known in our own country. They were brought here in 1817. About three miles from the city I ascended a mound of earth one hundred and fifty feet in height, which was raised to his memory by all classes of Poles, who wrought four years in completing it, and even brought portions of earth from the different battle-fields in which he was engaged.
Here is found an immense number of Jews who fled from Spanish persecution in the middle ages, and were granted an asylum by Casimir the Great. They have a fine opportunity here to traffic in exchanges, as all the coins of Russia, Austria, Prussia, and Poland are known, and here the traveller must make his exchanges. Men and women with bags in their hands present themselves on the arrival of a stranger, and it was my luck to fall into their hands, having Russian funds to exchange, and it required some skill to accomplish it without being fleeced, as I was surrounded by about twenty of them, and they hung together like a chain.
I was interested in passing through a portion of Gallicia to the great Salt mines of Cracow. The country about here is beautiful and picturesque. The town of Wieliczka contains a population of five thousand, and is mostly undermined by the salt works. I met with an exiled Pole in Cracow, who had recently returned from Paris, whom I invited to join me, as he had never seen the mines, and who acted as interpreter in the Polish language. We put on white frocks over our clothes, and hired a number of boys to carry lamps and a supply of torches to illuminate the subterranean vaults. We placed ourselves with the guides in a sort of swing attached by cords to the main rope, and descended to the first stage about two hundred feet. There are four stories to the depth of about thirteen hundred feet. We then by the aid of our lamps walked through the wide and airy galleries into several halls and chambers, then crossed over bridges spanning salt lakes and dived deeper down from one story to another by staircases. It is the most extraordinary work in the world. Here are found one thousand hands constantly employed by the Austrian Government. The mines have been worked since the ninth century; and although one walks for miles through these caverns, which undermine a whole city, passing through galleries one thousand feet in length, and saloons one hundred feet in height, still the supply is inexhaustible. There are immense saloons with candelabra in glittering crystal salt; there is a Gothic church ornamented with the full length figure of Christ upon the cross. Also the statues of saints as large as life; and once a year in the presence of all the miners mass is performed. One of the saloons was in the form of a theatre, and was fitted up for the emperor of Russia when he visited the mines and held a ball there. The illumination of these vast subterraneous caves with torches, throwing the lights upon obelisks and columns, with inscriptions dedicated to distinguished persons, produced an effect indescribable. The rock is hard, and is cut and chiselled, and even powder is employed in blasting it. It comes up in blocks of an oval form, about two and a half feet in length, by immense windlasses, driven by horse power, and is laden on wagons for the different markets to be broken up when received. It is computed that four millions of tons are taken out annually for the supply of the different governments bordering on Austria.
1849.
XLIX.
Island of St. Thomas, West Indies, 1849.
It was my intention on leaving Southampton, to spend a month at Madeira, and proceed to the West Indies by the next monthly steamer, but circumstances prevented it. We had a rough and boisterous passage through the Bay of Biscay, and only reached Madeira, a distance of one thousand two hundred and eighty miles, in ten days. We had about one hundred and twenty passengers, a fair proportion of whom had paid full tribute to Neptune, and for the first eight days there was little contention for seats at table; but after getting in the trade-winds and balmy air from the African coast, the summer dresses began to appear, the awning was struck, and we found ourselves uncomfortably elbowed at our meals.
We had about twenty passengers to land on the island, but to our surprise, on entering the harbor, we found the Portuguese authorities had got frightened by the cholera reports from England, and put all passengers in the Lazaretto for ten days. Having had considerable experience in quarantines in the east, and learning there were only accommodations for one half the number of passengers to be landed, and that one of our number was dying with the consumption, and believing that in the event of his sudden decease these stupid people would consider it a cholera case, and I might be imprisoned for a month, I promptly concluded to continue by the steamer to Barbadoes, the first windward West India Island. We remained in the harbor of Madeira twenty-four hours, exercising the greatest precaution on the part of the officers in the boats to prevent contact in putting supplies on board, and some most amusing scenes took place among the boatmen, who looked upon us all as infected with the disease. One poor fellow had brought out some canary birds in cages for sale, which were handed carefully to a sailor on the foot-ladder, and the purchaser threw the sum demanded in the boat. With the rolling of his boat the sailor caught his hand to frighten him, the passengers gave a shout, and the poor fellow dropped as if seized by an apoplectic fit; his face was of a ghastly hue, and it was some moments before he regained his self-possession. He had exposed himself to a quarantine of ten days.
The town of Funchal had a novel appearance, with its white houses and flat roofs, its steeples, and turrets, and the mountains rising in the distance. The climate was beautiful. We had thrown aside our cloaks and overcoats, and were enjoying the genial breeze, and requiring protection from the sun’s rays. Ripe figs, oranges, and other fruits were brought off to us in baskets.
From Madeira to Barbadoes is about two thousand five hundred miles, which we made in thirteen days. It is the most easterly of the Caribbee Islands, and lies in twelve degrees north latitude. Notwithstanding the trade-winds blowing constantly in our favor, the heat and confinement on board of a crowded steamer, under the tropics, were quite sufficient to cause all to rejoice in making this low island, which is seen about thirty miles off, and is about the size of the Isle of Wight; say twenty-five miles in length, and fifteen in breadth. It is richly cultivated, and one of the most populous islands for its size. There are some high lands called Scotland, resorted to by invalids, and from its being the first island that has the trade-winds, it is considered the coolest. We landed at Bridgetown, the capital, upon Carlisle Bay; it is a considerable town, stretched along the shore for two miles, with some twenty thousand inhabitants.
The yellow fever was committing great ravages among the British troops and residents. I stopped but a short time and then took the steamer, to make the tour of the other islands landing and receiving passengers and mails at the English islands of St. Lucia, St. Kitts, Montserrat, Dominica, Tortuga, Antigua, as also the French islands of Martinique and Guadaloupe, affording an opportunity of sailing along all those beautiful and picturesque shores on board of a large and commodious steamer, with but few passengers and mostly islanders, who could point out all the striking peculiarities of each island, town, mountain, and volcano, as they presented themselves. At one glance in passing near the shore, with the aid of a glass, you have in a beautiful slope or valley, the house of the sugar planter nearly lost in the foliage of gardens of bananas and cane fields, with the slender stems of thousands of cocoa-nut trees forming a green fence upon the sea-shore. Then again you have immense rocks or mountains which rise up from the sea, covered with evergreen foliage, their summits hung with white clouds; standing as pillars at the entrance of some deep bay or circuitous cave, formerly the secure abode of pirates. At Martinique they told us that they had had several slight shocks of earthquakes, and when one considers the sufferings from them as well as hurricanes, it is not surprising the people should be excited. The country around St. Pierre is quite pretty, with its cane fields and palm trees, intersected with winding roads and dotted with white houses. The town is regular and cleanly, and looks more European than most of the English islands.
At St. Kitts we landed two fellow passengers from Europe, residents of the island. The town is called Basseterre, and as a writer remarks, the valley looking from the sea, in softness, richness, and perfection of cultivation, surpassed anything he had ever seen in his life. Green velvet is an inadequate image of the verdancy of the cane fields which lie along this lovely valley, and cover the smooth acclivities of Monkey Hill. This hill is the termination of a range of great mountains which thicken in enormous masses in the centre of the island. The apex of this rude pyramid is the awful crag of Mount Misery, which shoots forward over the volcanic chasm. The height is three thousand seven hundred feet, and it is bare and black at the summit. Monkeys still exist in large numbers on this island.
I arrived at St. Thomas at last, alone, having lost all my fellow passengers from England, who were scattered to the four winds; some had preceded me by steamers direct, en route for South America, or to the Leeward Islands, others had left us from time to time in the Windward Islands. I took up my quarters at the hotel, which is one of the best in the West Indies, allow me to say for the information of those who may come this way.
This small island, belonging to the Danes, has a free port, and with its excellent and commodious harbor for shipping, has become the great depot for goods and merchandise for the supply in part of some of the other islands, and the coast of Venezuela. The population is some ten thousand, and is composed of native Creoles, French and Danes, and many German, French, and English merchants, consequently all languages are spoken. The town is prettily built on three hills, rising from the Bay, and surmounted by picturesque conical mountains. The horseback rides are very good, and in four hours one can make the tour of the island.
In consequence of the emancipation of the blacks in Santa Croix, another Danish island, after the insurrection and destruction of property in June last, the Governor gave the negroes here their liberty. The planters complain of the low price of sugar and the difficulty of getting the blacks to work, they being such an indolent race, and it requiring so little to support life in these warm latitudes. The merchants of St. Thomas have suffered much, and cannot either realize for goods sold, or extend sales, and business is paralysed in the West Indies, with all their resources and beautiful climate. The English planters complain of injustice on the part of the mother country, but if they are not satisfied with part payment for their slaves, what will the holders say in the Danish islands who have received no compensation, the mother country being too poor to pay them?
In the French islands they complain of injustice from the new Republic, which proclaimed not only the abolition of all slavery, but universal suffrage, which sent their enemies to the National Assembly at Paris, as members, to vote against their interests. The French Republic will yet do justice to her colonies, I think, but in the interim labor is considerably suspended, and the crops will be much neglected.
The island of St. Croix lies forty miles south of St. Thomas, and schooners run over frequently in six hours. Having some travelling companions who are planters on this beautiful island, I sailed for West End, a small town, and of much less importance than East End at the other extremity of the island. The rides on the island are beautiful and picturesque; the roads are excellent, being mostly level, and bordered with cocoa, palm, lime, and other tropical trees, affording much shade and delight to the eye. The immense cane fields were promising a rich reward to the planter, as the season has been favorable; but the sugar works and houses of the planters, which were formerly annually brushed up and kept in good repair, are much neglected this year, since the burning and destruction of property by the blacks in the insurrection. Some of the planters are complaining for want of help, but others say they get on tolerably, and I thought the gangs under the new system worked very well. It is the intention of the new governor to compel able-bodied persons to work, or be arrested. I had an opportunity of conversing not only with the planters themselves, but with the negroes in their cabins, and found them generally satisfied; and in reply to my questions as to the difference between slavery and freedom, some who had had good masters found themselves worse off than before, as they had medical attendance when sick; others said they preferred to be free and work when they liked.
The season of Christmas at St. Thomas was less noisy than usual, as the Governor issued orders to prevent the usual parade through the streets with masks and music. The life of the judge had been threatened by those who were aggrieved, but the citizen police were out parading the streets, and all passed off quietly.
I found some old acquaintances resident here, at whose hands I received many courtesies rendering my stay agreeable. I am now awaiting the departure of the English mail schooner to visit that part of South America of which the Republic of Venezuela forms a portion.