My stay in Holland had been a brief one—about a fortnight. During this time I had seen many interesting things, but few scenes of natural beauty. In this respect Holland is poor. A great portion of the land, having been won from the sea, necessarily consists of a continuous plain, broken here and there only by low banks and “dunes,” about twenty or thirty feet high. In Gueldres and Friesland, these “dunes,” or sandy banks, are said to attain a height of from fifty to a hundred feet. The views, therefore, show the same features every where—green meadows, with cattle grazing, a few fields, pretty shrubberies, great massive trees, and neat farms and villages. The picture thus presented is cheerful enough, but when one has it continually before one’s eyes it soon becomes monotonous, and creates a craving for the sight of mountains, or, at least, of a range of hills.
The most striking objects to the traveler in Holland are the numerous canals, great and small, which intersect both town and country in all directions. Every patch of field, every meadow, is, as it were, a little island, surrounded in all directions by canals two or three feet broad.
The part of Holland through which I passed consists principally of marsh land. As far as the eye can reach, it rests upon pastures full of fine-looking cattle, which constitute the chief wealth of the country. In Holland there are about 1,130,000 head of cows, oxen, and calves, to a population of 3,200,000 souls, a proportion to which no other country presents a parallel. No wonder that Holland provides half the world with butter and cheese.
The soil is decidedly fertile—witness the fat pastures and meadows, the plentiful crops of great heavy corn-ears, and the strong, lofty trees. A fruitful land is Holland, I will not deny, but certainly not a beautiful one.
CHAPTER IV.
London.—Paris.—Sitting of the Geographical Society.—News from Madagascar.—Popular Life in Paris.—Sights.—A Tale of Murder.—Versailles.—St. Cloud.—Celebration of Sunday.
On the 2d of July I quitted Rotterdam, and embarked in a steamer belonging to Messrs. Smith and Ers for London (distance 150 sea-miles, time of passage 20 hours). This company was the first English one that refused to allow me to pay. I had already taken my passage; but, as soon as Mr. Smith heard my name, he insisted, in the kindest way, on returning me the passage-money.
In London I spent about four weeks with my worthy friend, Mr. Waterhouse, of the British Museum; and on the 1st of August I proceeded to Paris.
The chief aim of my journey was to visit the island of Madagascar, with whose government the French alone have relations. I was therefore obliged to go to Paris to obtain information respecting this, to me, unknown country. To say the truth, I was not sorry for this; for, strange as the fact may appear to many of my readers, in all my wanderings through the world I had never visited Paris.
I reached that city on the morning of the 2d of August, and at once set about my work. My fortunate star led me to make my first visit to Monsieur Jaumard, the President of the Geographical Society, and on that very evening the society was to hold its last meeting for the present summer.