After an excellent dinner we went to the ‘Conversation Haus,’ a large, fine building in the midst of beautiful grounds, where everybody goes evenings to hear the fine music and see the people. What else they go for I cannot positively say, but am told that there is still some gambling carried on somewhere within the walls of this building; but we saw only its elegant drawing-rooms, ball and reception rooms, rich in appearance as pictures and gilt, velvet, and silk furnishings could make them. If any gambling is done here, or about here, in these days it is done secretly, for when the German Government awakened to the fact that accomplished scoundrels from all over the world met here to carry on their nefarious practice, it suppressed all gambling, greatly to the credit of the Government, for by so doing thousands of dollars that were left here annually were spent in some other country than Germany. When this was done it was feared that the prosperity of Baden was over, but it did not prove so. The place is too lovely to be neglected by travellers, and now, many of the wealthier and most respected Europeans spend a portion of the summer here. There are over twenty large hotels and more small ones, and they are now all well filled.
July 24th.—This morning we visited the ‘Trink Halle,’ an elegant building, which is decorated with frescoes illustrating many of the old German legends of the Black Forest. People flock here mornings to drink the waters as they do at Congress Spring at Saratoga. Crowds of people were present drinking the vile stuff as if they enjoyed it, but I found it the least palatable of any mineral water I ever tasted. The Fraülein who, at her leisure, at last waited upon us, acted as if it were a great condescension on her part to allow us to taste the horrid liquid, but she did not hesitate to take our money. I observed the same spirit in all of the female employees in the town with whom we had anything to do. They did not seem to wish us to see anything or to buy anything; and in one store where we looked at a garment, after hearing the price, I remarked to my companion that it would not cost much less, if any, than at home, if we paid duties, and the girl, understanding English, said, ‘You could probably buy it elsewhere for less,’ and continued the reading of a book she held in her hand. With such indifferent clerks I should not suppose sales would be very large; but all merchandise was dear at Baden excepting the little things found at the booths out of doors and in the two rows of stores leading to the Conversation Haus. These were very attractive, and everything for sale in them, from magnificent diamonds and gems of all kinds, exquisite engravings and photographs, down to buttons and hair pins, and the gentlemanly proprietors and clerks were very polite.
We next went to the Friedrichsbad, the finest bathing establishment in the whole world. It is built of red and white stone, and is artistically decorated with carvings. But the attendants there, the women, were as disagreeable as the sex were at the Trink Halle; but as they were remarkably good looking, they may have been placed there for ornament instead of use, and the mistake our own in expecting them to give us any information. We did not see the private baths, as it was not the hour to show them, but we did succeed in seeing the magnificent round, white, marble-lined swimming bath by waylaying the only man we saw in the establishment and asking him to show it to us.
We took a carriage to visit the ‘Alt Schloss,’ or old castle, now a ruin and a very picturesque one, and then to the ‘Neue Schloss,’ where the Grand Duke of Baden lives a part of the time. This is a home fit for the gods—a grand castle, on an eminence overlooking the town and a beautiful country round about it. It is surrounded by magnificent grounds, and contains many valuable paintings and a gallery of antiques. You remember the Duke’s wife is the daughter of old Emperor William, and now, since the Emperor Frederick’s death, she is his only child living. As none of the royal family were in the castle all of the apartments were shown us, all attractive and rich in furnishings and finishings, with lovely views of the beautiful valley of Baden Baden from the windows. We next followed our guide down, down, into the dungeons below, made in the rock on which the castle stands. All around us were instruments of torture, and near us a deep excavation where condemned persons were formerly thrown alive, and from which no cry for help could be heard. We were glad to turn our backs upon these places of old-time cruelty and try to forget the barbarity of old margraves in admiration of the late loved emperors of the country, William and Frederick, both of whom have recently gone to their reward.
These German duchies are small, very small, kingdoms. The duchy of Baden is not as large as our State of Massachusetts, but the Grand Duke lives in a kingly manner. He not only has his palaces here, but has one at Carlsruhe, a short distance from here, one in Freiburg, one in Heidelberg, and three or four others, and each one must require an immense revenue to be cared for as they are. Now, just think of the taxes the people must have levied upon them to keep up all this grandeur. Supposing we had to, by being more largely taxed, pay our governors a sum sufficient to live in such luxury, I think we should soon rebel, and if we did not, I should fear our honest Puritan blood had run out. From the ‘Neue Schloss’ we visited the pretty Greek church, which is a gem, and finished our drive along the Lichtenthal Allée, the beautiful avenue, shaded by magnificent trees and filled with carriages of every description in which were seated lovely women, with gay dresses and sparkling gems. Promenaders from all parts of the world walking up and down, bands of music playing, and bright and brilliant is the scene. Yes, Baden is delightful, and we have been cared for with much thoughtfulness at our hotel and recommend it to all who come this way.
Willbad Springs, Germany, July 25th, 1888.—I do not imagine that you ever heard of this place, but it is worth hearing about. It is a small watering-place, with natural springs, hot and cold, these springs being considered by many the very fountains to dip in to ensure the everlasting duration of youth, strength, and beauty. And here we are visiting our own relatives, who have come from Dresden to tarry a while for the benefit of the waters. How glad we were to see them all—our own kith and kin! Cousin E. and his pretty little ‘foreign’ niece were at the station to meet us, and you may well believe our tongues did run fast for a while. Aunt M. is an encyclopedia of a most charming edition, and has delighted us with stories of her experiences in living and travelling on this continent and with her cordiality towards us. Hundreds of people are here, as the country about is attractive, and then, too, the sick, lame, deaf, and blind come to be made whole. ‘Let us bathe in these wonderful waters,’ said F. Here, as at Baden, there is a fine building in which the baths are fitted up, with all the conveniences, and the water brought into them from the natural springs. What a furnace there must be here in the bowels of good mother earth, and how well regulated to keep this water and send it to her children of just the right temperature for a bath. I could not possibly think of any irregularity of my body that needed doctoring, but was advised that when ‘in Rome I should do as the Romans do,’ and was told also by one of the pleasant assistants (very different from the class at Baden) that many American ladies had derangements of the liver, and I undoubtedly would have some time, being an American, and these baths were a sure preventive as well as a sure cure. I had never thought much about my liver, as it had never called for special attention, but feeling that here was the grand opportunity for ‘taking time by the forelock,’ plunged in. Result: stayed a day longer at Willbad than was my intention. They make very good gruel at Willbad! I had no right to the healing properties of Willbad waters, for there was nothing wrong with my constitution. The waters took their own way of revenging imposition.
July 26th, 1888.—Have been in the house all day. This evening half of our household went to the opera and the rest of us listened to some fine music in the Park. The band was a splendid one, and the programme contained choice selections, such as we should have to pay a dollar or two to hear at home. How full of music these Germans are, and how soulfully they execute! We have just decided not to go with E. to Bayreuth to the Wagner Festival, but to take the time to see more of this country, for this we cannot have at home, but we can have Wagner’s music, and, better still, our own Symphony and Gericke. We lingered in the drawing-room of our relatives late, hating to say ‘good-night,’ for the morning will be the beginning of a longer parting. And when shall we all meet again. Adieus must be said, and when we thanked our friends for the pleasant time with them they said, ‘But we have done so little!’ Ah! life is made up of little things; loving words, smiles, and kindly acts win the heart always.
Hotel de l’Europe, Heidelberg, Germany, July 27th, 1888.—On our way here from Willbad we stopped for a few hours at Carlsruhe, which is one of the residences of the Court of Baden and is the capital of the grand duchy of Baden. We are getting tired of palaces, so, instead of visiting the very magnificent one at Carlsruhe, spent what time we had in the palace gardens and in the botanical garden, the orangery, and the hothouses. The flowers are about the same as we have at similar places at home, with a few plants and blossoms strangers to us. We reached Heidelberg at five P.M. and were considered distinguished arrivals, I am sure, for a carpet was spread awaiting our footsteps from the carriage to the hotel door and several gentlemen in dress suits stood in a line with folded arms and bowed very low to us as we passed along. Now, this was delightful! They never do that at Parker’s or Young’s when we go there. This hotel is fine, standing in the centre of a pretty garden. We have a luxurious room and on the first floor. We are getting to like the single beds, one apiece, that we have everywhere over here very much, for if one does feel like taking the ‘spoon fashion’ position, there is no one with coequal rights near to object. Nor are the employees as attentive at the home hotels. Here we no sooner get settled in our rooms than the polite portier appears, takes our names and residence; no going to the office to register here, and the letters U. S. A. act like magic, for are not the United States of America overrun with millionaires, and so many of them resort to travel purposely to get rid of a portion of their troublesome, superfluous incomes. ‘Would we like a glass of wine brought to our room? Is our room satisfactory? Perhaps we would like a special maid during our stay, which he hopes will be long. When it suits us to allow him, it will give him much pleasure to tell us about the city and what to visit and the pleasantest way to see all.’ Well, really, these portiers are invaluable, and although there may be some grasping ones, who impose upon strangers, we have found nearly all of great assistance and apparently well satisfied with what we have given them, which has never been more than we felt that they deserved for service rendered.
We took a drive about the city, which is a long, narrow place sandwiched in between the river Neckar and the hills, on the highest one of which stands the ruins of the old castle. We were driven through a long avenue, with pretty trees on each side and some residences, but more stores, and the sidewalks filled with people. This street is called the Anlage; and is the principal boulevard of the city. We saw the ‘Helig Geist Kirche’—Church of the Holy Ghost, into which the people of Heidelberg were driven, crowded in like animals, so closely that they could not move, by the French army in the time of Louis XIV., and left there to suffer, until the steeple took fire as the town was being burned. This old structure has had many critical changes in its history, and is now divided by a thick wall, on one side of which the Roman Catholics worship, and on the other the Protestants. Our driver was a talker, and told us much we understood, and more that we did not, of the places of interest we passed. ‘Now show us the university buildings,’ we said, and he soon halted in front of an old, plastered or stuccoed structure, that resembled barracks more than a renowned seat of learning, and was a great disappointment to us. A drive over an old stone bridge, from the farther end of which we had a charming view of the castle perched on the mountain side, overhanging the town, with its towers, battlements and arches, a regal ruin in truth, and back to our hotel, ended our first sight of Heidelberg.
We had scarcely entered our room when a band of musicians stationed themselves directly under our window and struck up the ‘Wedding March’ from Lohengrin, and it was exquisitely played too, and on fine instruments. We came to the conclusion that we were supposed to be brides on our wedding tour, and had commenced disciplining our ‘better halves’ by leaving them at home, as we find it is a source of great wonder to the Europeans, and especially to the English and the Germans, that the American wives travel about so much without their husbands. One lovely German lady, in Baden, in speaking on this subject, said to me, ‘And what do these husbands left alone do?’ ‘Do?’ I answered, ‘why, they not only attend to their own business matters, but they run the house, take care of the children, and write daily love letters to their absent wives, and love them better than ever, if possible, when they reach home again. You must believe,’ I said, ‘that American husbands are the best in the world, and that with us, in all grades of life, wives are treated with tenderness and consideration, and as equals.’ She looked a little incredulous, and I could not wonder when I thought of the pitiable sights of her country, that are before us daily, of women, bronze faced, half dressed, working in the fields, digging, hoeing, pushing the plough; in the towns breaking stone, sawing wood, and bending beneath heavy loads of many kinds, carried on head or back, while their husbands take their ease, at the barracks, perhaps, and when at home take the money earned by their wives. One of the worst features, too, of this condition of things is that the women do not rebel; if their husbands take them into the gardens on Sunday, and drink beer with them, often paid for with the little earnings of the overworked wives, they are satisfied. Poor things, they have never known anything better. Amongst the poor of Germany, matrimony was not commenced right. I think the military laws of the country are to blame greatly for the degradation of the women of the so-called lower classes. A man who is or has been in the army considers it beneath him to do honest labor, but not beneath him to allow his wife to do it.