A ride of eighteen hours by rail from Prague, the Bohemian capital, brought me to Vienna, the imperial city of Austria, passing through Brunn, a town of some importance, leaving Austerlitz and its battle ground on the left. A former visit to the places named, taking Iglau and Czaslau en route to Prague, over much tedious and uninteresting country, occupied five days; but by the aid of the iron horse the journey is now accomplished in the time mentioned. I find the old city quite unchanged; so unlike many of our American cities, where, on a return visit, after a few years’ absence, one can scarcely recognise the localities formerly familiar to the eye.
I arrived here in time for the festivals, at the close of the Holy Week, and found the old Cathedral of St. Stephen’s filled with the multitude as I had last seen it on the occasion of the annual departure of the devotees or pilgrims to the mountain chapel of Maria Zell. It seemed that only a brief interval had elapsed; but hundreds of those whom I then saw have probably made the pilgrimage from which there is no return, while I have been permitted, during the lapse of fourteen years, to pass three similar annual festivals under Popes Gregory and Pius, in Rome; another at the tomb of our Saviour, in Jerusalem; one in Murcia, in Catholic Spain, and two in Havana. The altars here, bedecked with natural plants and flowers, reminded me of a much greater horticultural display on a similar occasion in Lima.
The new chapel has been erected in commemoration of the preservation of the young Emperor from the hands of an assassin; and, on the anniversary of his marriage, about a year since, a brilliant mass was performed in presence of the imperial family. Notwithstanding the attempt upon his life, he seems to have full confidence in the loyalty of his people. I met him recently with an aide-de-camp only, walking in the vicinity of the palace, and we saluted each other politely. I met the mother of the emperor in the palace garden, in like manner, with a lady of the court and a servant, and she also responded politely to my civilities.
The empress, who is of the House of Bavaria, appears youthful, and rather pretty. She is not yet nineteen years of age, and is much esteemed by the public for her simplicity of manner.
On the occasion of the recent birth of a princess an amnesty was granted to many prisoners.
The Prater, with its dense forestry, is the grand lounge, where thousands may be seen on a fine day, and occasionally the cortege of the Imperial family.
The trees are now in bloom, and the country wears a pretty appearance.
The police are very rigid; I found myself closely catechised at the bureau, when I presented myself for an Aufenthalt’s Karte, or permit to remain longer than six days.
The language of the people is corrupt German, but the educated classes speak the language in its purity. The many tongues here spoken make it a sort of Babel.
The Slavonians, who number sixteen millions, extending throughout Bohemia, Illyria, and Dalmatia, and whose language is difficult, seem to have the faculty of acquiring other languages; they are of the Czeck race, one of the three families Mech, Lech, and Czeck, who occupy Poland and Russia; and, although they are remote from the others, they understand much that is said in conversation. The Hungarian or Magyar language has not the slightest resemblance to the Slavonic or German, being an eastern or Asiatic language, the Magyars having migrated from Asia to Hungary about nine hundred years ago.