Twenty years around the world

by John Guy Vassar

The railroad depot at Brunswick is very splendid; in fact, in several parts of Germany the depots are furnished in the most sumptuous style, the buildings in some places being like palaces of Gothic architecture, some with towers, and the waiting saloons of the first and second class passengers furnished with sofas and divans, covered with rich stuffs; in short, they have spent too much money for the interest of the shareholders.

On visiting Bremen, I was struck with that air of cleanliness and comfort which one finds in Holland. It is one of the free cities of Germany, lying on the river Weser, and one with which we have a growing trade. I expected to find the steamer Washington there, as her commander, Captain Johnson, came from our section of country; but she lay down the river, at Bremerhaven, and was just about departing. The city has a population of some forty-five thousand, and has fine new white houses upon the streets, which front the walks, and boulevards which extend around the city.

The quantity of tobacco imported from America is immense; it is manufactured here and sent through all Germany, and one sees the names of all our states and towns noted for “the weed” figuring in the shop windows.

The old town is quite like the other German towns, and has some curiosities. The old cathedral has a vault which contains some bodies which have been preserved from decomposition for centuries. But an exhibition of this kind at Bordeaux is most curious; for there are the remains of some twenty persons, whose history is known from the tombstones; when disinterred they were found, from the peculiarity of the soil, with the flesh only wasted. The mummies were placed around the low vault, lighted by torches; and among the number was a colossal man who killed himself by a trial of strength; another, a girl buried in a trance, and now exhibiting all the horrible forms and agonies of starvation and despair, with a portion of her own body devoured.

On my arrival at Hamburg, I found the river Elbe, upon which it stands, blockaded by the Danes, and the merchants complaining bitterly. This city is eighty miles from the mouth of the river, and is divided in many places by canals and crossed by bridges; and in the old town, the houses, bridges, and quays reminded me of Amsterdam. The city has a population of some one hundred and forty thousand, and possesses an immense amount of commerce. The great fire a few years ago has been the means of beautifying that portion of the city which was destroyed, for now the burnt district is rebuilt, and will compare for splendor with any of the continental cities. The old fortifications and ramparts around the city are now, as in many other capitals, thrown down, and covered with trees, plants, and flowers, which afford a breathing-place for the inhabitants, and a delightful promenade.

There are no remarkable collections of art, or curiosities for a stranger, in Hamburg. The promenades in the gardens, the cafés crowded with both sexes, the sight of the water parties, in their gaily painted boats, a stroll through the gardens in the evening, listening to the music, and viewing the dances and waltzes of all classes, is quite sufficient to occupy the time of a traveller. I met here, at the same hotel, an old travelling acquaintance, who left me in the West Indies some three years ago, and who had since made the campaign of Mexico. I allude to Mr. Kendall, of the New Orleans Picayune, who is now writing a history of the war. In walking out together, said he, “Do you see that coffin? There goes another coffin!” And in fact so it appeared to be. The servant girls and cooks rarely go out without being gaily dressed; at all events, a splendid shawl is arranged under the arm so as to cover a basket in the exact form of a child’s coffin; and it matters not whether it is fish, butter, cheese, or dirty clothes for the wash, it must always be covered with a shawl.

Altona, a populous town and a part of the Duchy of Holstein, belongs to Denmark, and is now in dispute; it is in the immediate vicinity of Hamburg, so that the two cities have almost grown together. I there found troops collecting together from the different German states, to go forward to Schleswig and Holstein.

The distance from Hamburg to Lubeck, where I took the steamer for Copenhagen, is about forty-five miles, and is made by diligence. We were three in the coupé, or front apartment of the vehicle; and to my surprise, for the first time in Germany, my companions did not smoke either pipe or cigar.

The free town of Lubeck is a very antiquated place, with its Gothic churches, and venerable public buildings, and has not changed very much in general appearance since the days of its prosperity. Its population is not one half of what the city is capable of containing; and the lifeless streets, in many parts overgrown with grass, tell the story of deserted commerce. There is sufficient, however, of interest here to keep the traveller a day or two, to look at the old paintings and other works of art in the churches, some of which are very superior. One of the paintings upon wood, of the style of the fifteenth century, would compare with those at Florence. It was a representation of the events of the Passion of our Saviour, from the agony in the garden to the resurrection, depicted in twenty-three distinct groups introduced in the landscape, in the background of which appears Jerusalem. Another very curious painting, occupying three sides of one room, was The Dance of Death, with the Pope, the bishop, the king, the merchant, the banker, and others, all in appropriate dress, with dialogues inscribed above them; but the skeleton Death always had the advantage. It has been preserved since the fourteenth century, and is only valuable for the design, which is curious.

The passage from Lubeck, by steamer, to Copenhagen, was made in less than twenty-four hours. This residence and capital of the King of Denmark is a large commercial city, with a population of some two hundred thousand inhabitants. The Danes, being surrounded by water, have naturally become good sailors, and their greatest strength in carrying on the war consists in their fleet, with which they have captured and now have one hundred and ten German vessels in port. It is quite amusing in going from one country to another to look at the caricatures in the shop windows; in Germany, the Danes are escaping from the battle-grounds in awful plight, but here the tables are turned and the Dutchmen have got the worst of it.