The fortunes of Austria and Hungary are still more closely united with and dependent on the great river Danube. Certainly in the north we have the Elbe and the Dniester, and in the south several small rivers which enter the Adriatic Sea. But otherwise all the rivers of the monarchy belong to the Danube, and collect from all directions to the main stream. The Volga is the largest river of Europe and has its own sea, the Caspian. The Danube is the next largest and has also its sea, the Black Sea. Its source is also "black," for it takes its rise in the mountains of the Black Forest in Baden, and from source to mouth it is little short of 1800 miles.
The Danube flows through Bavaria, Austria, and Hungary, forms the boundary between Rumania and Bulgaria, and touches a small corner of Russian territory. It has sixty great tributaries, of which more than half are navigable. Step by step the volume of the main stream is augmented. We can see that for ourselves on our way through Europe. At Budapest, which is cut in two by the river, and where five handsome bridges connect the banks, we seem almost to be on a lake. The Elizabeth Bridge has a span of 950 feet. Farther down, on the frontier of Wallachia, the river is nearly two-thirds of a mile wide; but here the current is slow; creeks of stagnant water are formed, and marshes extend far along the banks. And at the point where the Rumanian railway crosses the Danube, we find at Chernovodsk a bridge over the river which is nearly 2-1/2 miles long and is the longest in all the world. Not far from here the waters of the Danube part into three arms and form a broad delta at the mouth. There grow dense reeds, twice as high as a man, on which large herds of buffaloes graze, where wolves still seek their prey, and where water-fowl breed in millions. If we look carefully at the map, we shall see that Central Europe is occupied mostly by the Danube valley, and that this valley, with its extensive lowlands, is bounded by the best-known mountains of Europe; in the north by the mountains of South Germany and Bohemia and the Carpathians, in the south by the Alps and the mountains of the Balkan Peninsula.
MAP SHOWING JOURNEY FROM BERLIN TO CONSTANTINOPLE.
From Budapest the train takes us over the Hungarian plain, a very singular country, like a trough, for it is surrounded by mountains on all sides. There is abundance of rain, especially up on the mountain slopes. The winter is cold and the summer warm, as is always the case in countries far removed from the sea. Dust and sand storms are common, and in some parts blown sand collects into dunes. Formerly the Hungarian lowland was a fertile steppe, where Magyar nomads roamed about on horseback and tended their cattle and their enormous flocks of sheep. But now agriculture is extended more and more. Wheat, rye, barley, maize, rice, potatoes, and wine are produced in such quantities that they are not only sufficient for the country's needs, but also maintain a considerable export trade. Round the villages and homesteads grow oaks, elms, lime-trees, and beeches; poplars and willows are widely distributed, for their light seeds are carried long distances by the wind. But in the large steppe districts where marshes are so common the people have no other fuel but reeds and dried dung.
Cattle-raising has always been an important occupation in Hungary. The breed of cows, oxen, and buffaloes is continually being improved by judicious selection, and all kinds of sheep, goats, and pigs are kept in great numbers, while the rearing of fowls, bee-keeping, the production of silk from silkworms, and the fishing industry are also highly developed. To the nomads, who wander from one locality to another with their herds, horses are necessary, and it is therefore quite natural that Hungary should be rich in horses—splendid animals of mixed Tatar and Arabian blood.
This country, where all wealth grows and thrives, and where the land, well and uniformly watered, contributes in such a high degree to the well-being of man, is flat and monotonous when viewed from the train. We see herds with their mounted herdsmen, we see villages, roads and cottages, but these do not give us any very clear conception of the country. Therefore it is advisable to spend a few hours in the agricultural exhibition at Budapest, where we can see the most attractive models illustrating Hungarian rural life, from pastures and farmyards to churned butter and manufactured cheeses, from the silk-worm in the chrysalis to the valuable silken web. We can see the life of farmers in the country homesteads, in simple reed huts or tents, the various crops they grow on their fields, the yellow honeycombs taken from the hives in autumn, tanned leather and the straps, saddles, and trunks that are made of it. We can see the weapons, implements, and spoil of the Hungarian hunter and fisherman, and when we come out of the last room we realise that this country is wisely and affectionately nursed by its people, and therefore gives profit and prosperity in exchange.
With unabated speed the train rushes on over the plain, and at length rattles across a bridge over the Danube into Belgrade, the capital of Servia. Here we bid good-bye to the Danube and follow the Morava valley upwards. The Servian villages of low white houses, with pyramidal roofs of tiles or thatch, are very pretty and picturesquely built; and above them, green heights, wooded slopes, flocks and herds, and peasants in bright-coloured motley clothes following the plough. Small murmuring brooks dance in merry leaps down to the Morava, and the Morava itself flows to the Danube. We are still in the drainage basin of this river, and, when we have crossed the whole of Servia, passed over a flat mountain ridge and left Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria, behind us and have come to another stream, even this is one of the affluents of the Danube.
During a large part of our journey we are therefore strongly impressed by this mighty stream, and perceive that it is a condition of existence to whole peoples and States. Innumerable boats navigate its channel—from rowing-boats, ferries, and barges to steamers of heavy freight. They maintain communication between the series of towns with walls and houses reflected in the gliding water. Their wharves are frequently in connection with trains; and many railways have been built with an eye to the traffic on the Danube. In early times, when the migrations of people from the east streamed over Europe, the Danube valley was generally utilized; and still at the present day the river affords an advantageous channel of communication between the western and eastern parts of the Continent.
Night jealously conceals from our eyes the kingdom of Bulgaria, as we travel through its southern part along the river Maritza, which flows southwards. We do not leave its valley until we are beyond the Turkish frontier and Adrianople. Here we are in the broadest part of the Balkan Peninsula; and amidst the regular swaying of the train we lie thinking of the famous Balkan lands which extend to the south—Albania, with its warlike people among its mountains and dales; Macedonia, the country of Alexander the Great; Greece, in ancient times the centre of learning and art. When day dawns we are in Turkey, and the sun is high when the train comes to a standstill in Constantinople.