As the European does not travel long distances and has to pay extra for his baggage, he rarely takes anything but hand-luggage. All through Europe we have journeyed for three months, carrying all of our baggage in the car with us. When we reached a station where we were to stop there was always a porter on hand to carry our half-dozen grips and bags, and for five or ten cents put them safely in the carriage that would take us to the hotel to the hotel for a quarter. During the three months I don’t think I carried my grip three times. There is always a man standing around ready to do such work so cheaply that nobody thinks of carrying his own grips even across a station platform. If you have a trunk it is put in a box-car on the end of the train, and at your destination you go and get it at once. There are no baggage-checks, and you wonder the trunks do not get lost. But they don’t.
The station-master always wears a fine uniform, and in most countries he is a sort of military officer. When the time for departure arrives he rings a bell or blows a whistle. The guards close the car-doors. Then the station-master whistles again and the train starts, the station-master saluting. The engine does not whistle or ring a bell. The conductor does not yell “All aboard!” The station-master is the whole thing. He is an autocrat and has entire control of the train in station.
Trains are rarely late in Europe. The schedule is maintained regardless of connections, and therefore connections are usually made. The railroad rules have the same weight as laws and are observed as such. Railroad employés are polite. When a porter starts down a platform with a barrow of luggage he does not try to run over people, or yell “Get out of the way!” as in America. He goes slowly and calls out “Make way, if you please.” Baggagemen do not try to break the trunks, and will answer civilly when you ask questions. Some of these European ways are not so bad.
Summed up, these are my impressions of European railroads: Cars small, uncomfortable, unsanitary; road-bed fine and management good; prices about the same as in America, and chance of getting to your destination much better.
A passenger train with the long line of little light coaches is put over the rails very rapidly in Europe if they wish. Many regular trains make fifty and sixty miles an hour. The ordinary trains which stop frequently and carry the third-class cars principally, are slow. A freight car, called a “goods van,” is about the size of a dray. There are not many box-cars, but the goods are packed on the open drays and covered with tarpaulins. The effect is about like a thresher engine pulling a lot of four-wheel wagons and drays. It looks “dinky” and is a cause of merriment for Americans. But the Englishman retorts with some reference to an American railroad wreck and we shut up. I have learned this summer that while the United States is the greatest country on earth, it can still learn lessons from the slow-but-sure-going English, the sturdy Germans and the energetic French. One of these lessons is that fast trains and fine cars ought to be supplemented by solid roadbeds and careful watching.
A New York clothing merchant was showing a customer some suits. The man tried on a coat and vest, and when the merchant turned his back he bolted out of the door. The store-keeper yelled “Stop thief!” and called the police. All joined in the pursuit. The policeman drew his revolver and began to fire at the fugitive. “Shoot him in the pants!” screamed the merchant, “shoot him in the pants: the coat and vest are mine.”
So when we begin to fire at the defects of railroading in the various countries I have to beg the shootist to shoot at the pants, the coat and vest and some of the faults are our own.