A ride of thirty-five miles by post, and one bids adieu to Bohemia, in Austria, and strikes the frontier of Saxony on the railroad to Leipzig, a city celebrated for its fairs. It has seventy thousand inhabitants, and is surrounded with pretty garden suburbs. Among the number is Gerhard’s, where is the monument to Prince Poniatowski, who lost his life in jumping his horse across the little stream Elster, which runs through the city. This was at the famous battle of Leipzig, of 1813.
I arrived on a Saturday evening. The next morning service commenced in the Protestant churches at half-past eight, and continued till half-past ten. Numerous congregations attended, and listened to earnest, faithful preaching. During the exercises all places of entertainment are closed, but opened afterwards for necessary purposes.
The beautiful walks of Rosenthal, and oak woods, that extended to the village of Gohlis where Schiller wrote his Don Carlos, were fully occupied with promenaders after dinner, and the many public gardens filled with the multitudes partaking of their coffee and lager beer, the men smoking their pipes and cigars, women embroidering and listening to the bands of music, and children with their nurses amusing themselves upon the grass. All seemed happy and quiet, and as the evening approached some wended their way to the summer theatre, in an open garden, others to their homes. Such are the customs, and such the force of education even in the land of Luther’s reformation.
I made a halt of two days at Leipzig by way of reviving my recollections, and spent a day at Halle, on the river Saale, noted for its university—a very old city, of thirty thousand inhabitants, offering nothing of particular interest. The railroad passes through Gotha, Dessau, and Wittenburg, all of which places I had formerly seen in detail before this mode of conveyance existed here. As I partook of some refreshment at Wittenburg, which I once described to you, I inquired if the old town was as much a place of pilgrimage as formerly. The reply was to the contrary, since the railroad passed through the people had no time to stop. It had once cost me a long journey to visit the houses where Luther and Melancthon lived and wrote, and where they lie buried.
I also looked in upon friends at Berlin, whom I had left eighteen months before, a picnic party in the country being the result, and made a visit to the grounds of Baron Humboldt, where the remains of the illustrious traveller’s parents are entombed.
Governor Wright drove us to Charlottenburg, the royal residence. At the opera in the evening the young crown prince of Prussia was present with his new bride, young Victoria. A sojourn of three days in a city which I had visited so repeatedly, and in which I had almost gained a residence, was brief, but I was en route for the salt breezes of the sea, and two days later found myself walking ashore from the good steamer Geiser in the well known port of Copenhagen.
The admiral accompanied me up the coast by steamer some thirty miles to Helsingsen, and visited the famous old castle of Kronburg and its fortifications, whose thirty-six pounders reach the Swedish coast opposite, but as the Sound dues are now compromised with all foreign powers, the neat and formerly flourishing town looks cheerless. The neighboring bathing place, Marienburg, if once brought into notice, would help to revive it.
Omitting the Dardanelles, few straits are so much used by vessels as this passage. A strong north wind was bringing in many ships, while almost an entire fleet were at anchor waiting to get out.
The settlement of this knotty Sound question is a source of gratification to all ship navigators, and the result, I trust, will be quite as advantageous for Denmark.
A ride of twenty-two miles from the city to the castle of Fredericksborg, with the visit to the beautiful grounds and the interior of the immense edifice, with its richly decorated saloons, halls, church, and picture galleries, and return, occupied a full day, even with fast horses and equipages from the royal stables.