We soon learned all about it from the landlord of the inn. Our driver was a liveried servant of the Prince before whose mansion we had stopped, and he was probably running much risk of dismissal in letting his grace’s country cart for hire. He was a sad dog, for, in the course of a quarter of an hour he ran up a score upon the strength of an alleged promise on our parts to pay all expenses, and succeeded in wheedling another zwanziger in advance out of our cashier, the military Lübecker. This piece of money, however, on being proffered in payment of a last half-pint of beer, was instantly confiscated by the landlord for previous arrears.
Amid a hurricane of abuse, exchanged between landlord and driver, we clattered out of private ground to the main road again. Our charioteer had risen into a state of exaltation that defied all curb, and in a short time we were again firmly planted before the sign-post of a public-house. But here there was no credit, and our good-natured Lübecker having doled out a fourth zwanziger on account, was scarcely surprised to see it pounced upon and totally appropriated by the host in liquidation of some ancient score. With a shout of rage, or rather a howl, from our Bohemian whip, we again set forward. “Hi, hi, hi!” and helter-skelter we went, through bush and bramble, where indeed there was no trace or shadow of a beaten track. The Bohemian was lost to control; he shouted, he sang, he yelled, savagely flogging his willing beast all the while, until we began to have serious fears for the safety of our necks. Presently we were skimming along the edge of the steep bank of a broad and rapid stream, wondering internally what might possibly come next, when, to our terror, the Bohemian, pointing with his whip to the opposite bank, suddenly wheeled the horse and rude vehicle round, and before we could expostulate with or arrest him in his course, plunged down a long slope and dashed into the river, with a hissing and splashing that completely blinded us for a few seconds, and drenched us to the skin. We held on with the desperation of fear; but before we could well know whether we swam or rode we had passed the stream, and our unconquered little horse was tugging us might and main up the opposite bank. That once obtained, we saw before us a wide expanse of heath, rugged and broken, and no trace of any road.
But horse and driver seemed to be alike careless about beaten tracks. The Bohemian grew wilder at every step, urging on his horse with mad gestures and unearthly cries. His driving was
miraculous; along narrow strips of road, scarcely wide enough to contain the wheels, he passed in safety; sometimes skimming the outer ridge of a steep bank, and when, seemingly about to plunge into an abyss, suddenly wheeling both horse and cart round at an acute angle, and darting on with a reckless speed to new dangers and new escapes. We had been told that he was an admirable hand at the rein when sober; but, when drunk, he certainly surpassed himself. As for ourselves, we were in constant fear of our lives; and, being utterly unacquainted with the country and the language, and unable to control the extravagances of our driver, we calmly awaited, and almost invoked, the “spill” that seemed inevitable.
But the paroxysm of the Bohemian had reached its height; from an incarnate devil, in demeanour and language, he rapidly dropped into childish helplessness, and finally into a deep uncontrollable slumber. This was a state of things which, at first, threatened more danger than his open madness; but then it was the horse’s turn to show his quality. He saw that a responsibility devolved upon him, and he was quite equal to the occasion. He seemed to know his way as well without as with his master. We guessed this; and, taking the reins from the hands of the quite helpless Bohemian, we left the gallant animal to take whatever course he thought most prudent. The good beast brought us well out of the tangled heath, and once more to a level, open road.
Soon, a neat village was before us, and we came to the resolution that we would dismount there at all hazards. But then our sleepy driver suddenly started into life, and, with a terrible outburst of wrath, gave us, by motions, to understand that we had gone beyond his destination. We paid very little heed to him; but, leaping from the cart, felt grateful for the blessing of whole bones. There remained still one zwanziger unpaid; but, to our astonishment, the Bohemian relapsed into his old rage when this was tendered to him, and, by a complication of finger reckoning, explained to us that he had never received more than two. In fact, he ignored all that had passed during his drunken fit. Argument being on each side useless, we also betook ourselves to abuse, and a terrible conflict of strong language, in which neither party understood the other, was the result. We entered the chief inn of the village, followed by the implacable Bohemian, who, though ejected several times, never failed to re-appear, repeating his finger calculations every time, and
concluding each assault with the mystical words, “Sacramentum hallaluyah!” The landlord came at length to our assistance; and, by a few emphatic words in his own language, exorcised this evil spirit.
We pursued our way by Hohenmauth, and having missed somehow the larger village of Chradim, lodged for the night in a lonely hamlet. We walked fully thirty-two miles the next day, through a wild, neglected country, and hobbled into Loitomischl as the night was setting in.
We were now upon the borders of Bohemia, and saw glaring on the wall of a frontier hostelry, “Willkommen zu Mähren”—“Welcome to Moravia.” We sealed the welcome by a sumptuous breakfast of sausages and beer in the frontier town of Zwittau—a pleasant place, with a spacious colonnaded market-square—and finished our meal on a green bank on the outskirts of the town, with a heap of sweet blackberries, of which we had purchased a capful for six kreutzers shein. It was a quiet, beautiful Sunday morning, and the country folks were streaming towards the church. They were all in holiday trim, with a strong tendency to Orientalism in the fashion of their garments. The women’s head-dresses were arranged with much taste, consisting generally of a large handkerchief, or shawl, folded turban-wise, with hanging ends; but the heads of the men were surmounted by an atrocious machine, in the shape of a hat, which, with its broad, rolled brim, its expanded top, and numerous braidings and pendants, could be nothing less than an heirloom in a family. We marched some twenty-five miles that day, and as the even darkened, entered the village of Goldentraum—Golden dream—happy name! for here, after four nights of straw-litter, we slept in beds.
Seated in the travellers’ room was a group which at once arrested our attention. A swarthy man, with scattered, raven locks, and a handsome countenance, was filling a glass with red wine from a round-bellied flask. His companion, a black, shaggy-bearded fellow, ragged and filthy, sat opposite to him; while close by the wall, squatted on the ground, was a squalid, olive-skinned woman, with black, matted hair, who was vainly endeavouring to still the cries of a child, swaddled at her back. The men wore slouched Spanish hats, and wide cloaks, which, partly thrown aside, revealed the rags and dirt beneath. Bohemian gipseys—real Bohemians were they—filchers and beggars, whose ample cloaks were intended as much