Chapter I

Arrival at Pesth--Embarkation on board the steam-boat--Congress of Hungarian ladies--General appearance of Pesth--Buda--Mills on the Danube--Fruit-boats--Wool-waggons--Wicker carriages--Captain Cozier--Scene on board--Tyrolese emigrants--Tyrolese amusements-- Countess N---- Moldavian adventurer--Servian Jew--Depression of the Danube.

♦ ARRIVAL AT PESTH ♦

While I was preparing at Paris, towards the close of last summer, for a journey to Constantinople by the ordinary and very fatiguing course overland through Vienna, Semlin, and Belgrade, I was informed that steam-boats had been recently established on the Danube, which would enable me to descend that river to the Black sea, and thence to the Bosphorus. The hope of accomplishing my object by a route so novel, so attractive in itself, and so convenient in every respect, was too tempting to be resisted. I therefore lost no time in repairing to Vienna; and as the scenery of the Danube possesses but little interest between Presburg, where the steam navigation begins, and Pesth, the modern capital of Hungary, I preferred embarking at the latter place. I accordingly arrived there by the light of a brilliant moon, an hour or two after midnight, on the 24th of September, 1834; and as a variety of rumours had met me on the road, some stating that the steam-boat, or Dampshiffe, as it is called in that country, had been destroyed by its own engines, others that it had bulged on the rocks, or remained fixed fast in the sandy bed of the river from the want of water, it was with no small pleasure that I discovered the vessel of which I came in pursuit anchored quietly within the shade of the bridge of boats, that still forms the communication between Pesth and Buda.

♦ EMBARKATION ♦

The inns having been all shut up for the night, I was obliged to proceed without ceremony on board through a crowd of carriages, packages, and cases of all descriptions, which were huddled together on the bank, with a view to transportation by the steamer to different towns on the Danube. The guardians of the vessel were all wrapped in sleep so imperturbable, that I could find nobody to marshal me the way to a berth in the cabin. Having been without sleep myself for thirty-four hours, I was not at all indisposed to follow the example of these worthy sentinels, the more especially when, on penetrating to the cabin, I found it almost entirely preoccupied by passengers stretched on benches, in full enjoyment of the same “sweet oblivion,” amidst piles of boxes, trunks, cloaks, shawls, baskets, hat-cases, stools, and tables, congregated in “most admired confusion.” By the glimmering light of a lamp which was suspended from the roof, I at length discerned a vacant corner, and having doubled up a seat-cushion, by way of pillow, and arranged another as no mean apology for a bed, I threw myself upon it, wrapped in my cloak, resolved to subside at once into profound repose.

♦ HUNGARIAN LADIES ♦

But scarcely had I forgotten that I was slumbering on the Danube, when there arose, all of a sudden, such a storm of tongues, and such an uproar of laughter around me, that I felt for a moment as if, in punishment for my sins, I had been imprisoned in some enchanted chamber, where sleep was especially prohibited. At first the voices sounded as though they were distant from the cabin; but before I could exactly settle with myself the question, whether I was waking or dreaming, in they rushed, chattering away as if they had all the world to themselves. Morning was still far below the horizon, and I, of course, concluded that our invaders would soon be tired of their rather premature entertainment. But vain were all calculations of that description; anecdote followed anecdote; interrogatory--answer--reply--rejoinder--sur-reply and sur-rejoinder--slight titter--partial laughter--general shouts--coursed each other with indefatigable speed round the circle of this noisy congress, until the broad daylight streamed through the windows, and dissipated every hope of peace. I was shocked at my ungallant thoughts, when I surveyed my fair enemies, and found that there were amongst them two or three really pretty Hungarian ladies. I confess, God forgive me!--that I had more than once wished them all at the antipodes.

♦ PESTH--BUDA ♦

Pesth looks extremely well from the Danube. It is for the most part built in a modern style of architecture; several of the public edifices, and even of the private mansions are splendid. The national casino, or club-house, forms a distinguished feature of the city, which has been wonderfully improved during the last ten or fifteen years. Presburg is the nominal capital of Hungary; but it has, in the estimation of a Hungarian, one fault which nothing can redeem,--it is near Vienna. It has been, therefore, long superseded by Pesth, as to all matters which concern the sciences and arts, as well as the assemblages and amusements of the higher classes. Here they spend their fashionable season, give their balls, carry on their flirtations, and plan both their private and public intrigues. Buda, on the opposite bank of the river, is not without its share in these good things. Gaiety also sometimes holds her court in that quarter. The bridge of boats between the two towns has indeed occasionally operated as an obstacle to social enjoyment. But that obstacle is soon to be removed. A stone bridge has been proposed, the expenses to be defrayed by a toll, from which no person shall be exempt. Never was such an innovation as this heard of in Hungary since the Danube began its course! A Hungarian nobleman is privileged by his rank from the payment of taxes of any kind. But the ladies would not be debarred from the winter enjoyments of Buda; they worried their fathers, husbands, brothers, until at length the vote was carried in the diet,--and so a stone bridge they will have. Slight as this incident may seem to an Englishman, it will probably lead the way to many useful reforms in that country, on account of the principle of equal taxation which it involves.

♦ MILLS ON THE DANUBE ♦

Our cargo of carriages, dry goods and passengers having been at length all duly arranged, our paddles began to circulate at seven o’clock, instead of four, which was the hour appointed, and we proceeded on our voyage. The morning was splendid. As we moved along we passed by several of those curious flour-mills with which the Danube is crowded. These floating machines are very simple in their construction. A wooden house is erected in a large clumsy boat, moored near the spot where the river is most rapid. At the distance of a few paces from this edifice another smaller boat is made fast parallel to the first, the heads of both being directed down the stream. In the interval between, the water-wheel is suspended, and impelled by the natural velocity of the current. These mills, of which ten or twenty are sometimes found in immediate succession, are rather picturesque in their appearance, and give animation to the scenery around them. But, however convenient they may be to the population on either bank of the Danube, where there are no heights for windmills, it is certain that they afford serious impediments to navigation. They uniformly occupy the best parts of the river, and tend to the formation or increase of sandbanks in their neighbourhood, which, when the water is low, become, as we subsequently experienced, nuisances of a formidable description.

♦ FRUIT-BOATS ♦

I believe there is no river in Europe which winds so much as the Danube. It may, with more than the usual truth of poetry, be emphatically designated as a “wandering stream.” It consequently abounds with what are called “reaches,” portions of the bank which at a distance look like promontories, and add not a little to the difficulties of the navigators, who have to work their way against the course of the current. It is amusing to observe a boat of the country labouring round one of these obstacles. It is generally a huge unwieldly bark, constructed of oak, covered with a high roof, and laden to the very top with what here universally passes under the name of fruit--that is wine, timber, wool, wheat, hay, and produce of every degree. The vessel is dragged up the river by a force which is not at first very apparent. You behold the vessel tied to the end of a rope, which is pulled by something or somebody somewhere, and if your eye can discern the “reach” at the distance perhaps of a mile, you may discover there a dozen brawny Hungarian peasants half-naked, trudging along in rope harness, exerting all their strength to draw the enormous mass behind them. The more opulent adventurers, however, frequently employ horses for this purpose, and then the scene is infinitely more bustling. Twenty and sometimes thirty half-wild horses are required to supply a sufficient moving power, where the force of the current offers more than ordinary resistance. Almost every pair of horses belongs to a different peasant, and he will allow nobody to lash them but himself. He is most probably a nobleman, and it is a part of his privilege to drive his own horses after his own fashion. When, therefore, the whole of the team arrives at a difficult reach, it becomes the signal for a general mutiny; the leaders are perhaps prancing in the air, while the horses immediately behind are endeavouring with all their might to bolt off into the adjacent country. Here a horse and his companion stand quite still, as if they were in doubt whether they ought not, before going further, to take a pleasant draught of the element at their feet. Half a dozen of the animals in the rear have dragged each other into the river, through which they are wading up to the girth, while the sound of a dozen whips, the altercations of the drivers, the angry exclamations of the boatmen shouting on the roofs of their vessels, the neighing of the alarmed horses, and the barking of dogs, combine to form a most ludicrous concert, which may be heard far down the river. Although in a broiling sun these drivers keep on their large cloaks, which are as essential to the dignity of a Hungarian peasant-noble, as the wide-brimmed hat slouching over his swarthy countenance.

♦ WOOL-WAGGONS ♦ ♦ WICKER CARRIAGES ♦

The high road, that is to say the track over the verdant turf, or the sandy track most frequently trodden, now and then ran along the side of the Danube, and exhibited occasionally specimens of the interior commerce of the country. Now a rude car laden with woolpacks, on the top of which was perched a lazy fellow smoking, drawn by eight or ten miserable horses, moved at a snail’s pace, the wooden axle of the wheels yielding the while a species of music, compared with which the hoarsest sounds of a hurdygurdy would be enchanting. Now a better sort of vehicle, a kind of waggon, filled perhaps with water-melons, Indian corn, or vegetables, for some neighbouring market, appeared on the scene, drawn by a much better class of horses, whose trappings were quite brilliant. The drivers of these waggons were generally the cultivators of the land, which furnished the burden, and they displayed their prosperity in a smart underdress, of which a waistcoat with gold or silver plated buttons, and a profusion of silk lace formed the principal ornament. These were succeeded perhaps by a troop of travellers galloping on spirited and beautiful animals, or by a family whisked along in a kind of wicker carriage, which may be found in all parts of Hungary. I travelled a considerable portion of the way from Vienna in one of these simple post-chaises, and I found it not at all disagreeable. It is on springs, and peculiarly light, and as from the irregularities of the road I was often knocked from one side of the vehicle to the other without even the civility of a notice, I deemed it a convenience to come in contact rather with a yielding material such as wicker, than with a solid board from Long Acre. And then if the balance were in danger of being more than usually disturbed, if one of the wheels aspired to figure in the sky, while the other was buried in a sandy rut, I had no great difficulty in jumping out over the sides of my carriage.

♦ CAPTAIN COZIER ♦

The captain of our steamer was an Englishman, of the name of Cozier, who, being little conversant with any branch of nautical science, was about equally skilled in the topography of the Danube. Though he had gone up and down several times, he knew no more of the caprices of the sandbanks than he did of the bed of the yellow sea. He had a bitter dislike to his office. Why he was permitted to undertake it, I never could understand. To me, I must say, he was communicative and extremely civil; but my fellow-voyagers he treated with a degree of superciliousness which was very amusing. It seemed to be his settled opinion, that nobody except an Englishman was worthy of breathing the same air with himself. To be sure we had a motley crowd on board, such perhaps as never met together on the deck of a steam-boat before. Behold us all as in a mirror.

♦ SCENE ON BOARD ♦

I am sitting (time, half-past eleven, morning) on a stool near the man at the wheel. A little before me, on my right-hand, are two Tyrolese sleeping. One of these has on his head a green hat, with a wide band of green ribbon around it, in which are stuck some white and black feathers, selected from a cock’s tail, intermixed with the bristles of a wild boar. The ribbon, where it joins, is edged with gold lace. Like most of his countrymen, this man rejoices in a thick gray frieze jacket, a striped cotton waistcoat, black leather breeches, here and there rather whitened by the hoar of antiquity, ribbed worsted gray stockings, and short stout laced boots. He wears his hair long behind, somewhat _négligée_. Another Tyrolese is sleeping near him, whose hat was some ages ago green, but now partakes of the colour of night. His hatband seems also to have enjoyed two shades of existence--it was formerly green, now it is a dingy yellow. It is tied in front with a bow of pink ribbon, which, in its early days, must have looked seducing, especially as it appears to have been accompanied by an artificial rose and other flowers, the ruins of which are still discernible. One of these picturesque objects is stretched on a mat; the other has his head resting on a coil of rope, his feet on a similar cushion: the intervening departments of his frame repose on the naked deck.

♦ TYROLESE EMIGRANTS ♦

While I was admiring the felicity in which these sleepers appeared to be immersed, a woman with a child, the wife I presume of one of them, came and awoke him. He rose, and she took his place. Throwing a handkerchief over her otherwise bare head, she settles herself to sleep. The sun is blazing on her ladyship. The child, a round chubby little urchin, has no fancy at present for following her example. He would very much prefer a game at romps. Trying what he can do in that way, he, slily laughing, pulls the handkerchief off her face. Half angry, she gives him a tap, but he returns to the charge, and succeeds for a while in attracting her attention by his artless tricks, until at length he falls asleep on her bosom. She then gladly resumes her interrupted slumber. She is arrayed in a short blue cloth spencer, edged with black velvet, beneath which she wears a green thick velveteen pelisse sort of dress. Thick worsted stockings (I _believe_!) and laced rough boots complete her apparel. Of the former, however, I am not very confident, as I only saw the most tiny bit of one of them just beneath the edge of her petticoat.

♦ TYROLESE AMUSEMENTS ♦

At the feet of this happy matron a Tyrolese boy is fast asleep. One would think that noon had been changed into midnight. Near him a woman of the same nation is sitting upon a roll of cordage, doing nothing. A little Tyrolese lad, with a cockade of white cock’s feathers, and a bunch of artificial flowers in his hat, is helping her! That must be his father who is sitting near him, smoking, and occasionally talking with one of his countrymen standing against the springs of one of the carriages, with which, by the way, our deck is most inconveniently crowded. Near the mast a group of men, all Tyrolese, are engaged in the several offices of talking, listening, smoking, musing, whistling, singing, and gazing at the dense cloud that rushes into the firmament from our black chimney. They are all rather better dressed than my immediate neighbours; one of them, a fine-looking fellow, whom I take to be the captain of the gang, has his hat cocked in a dandyish style, considerably out of the circular shape. His plume of feathers, too, is larger and of a finer quality than those of the others. This party would make a capital study for a band of brigands, could they but assume a fiercer expression of countenance. As it is, they look too amiable for a Salvator Rosa. At the top of the boat several knots of women, still Tyrolese, are sitting in various directions, executing for each other, alternately, without the slightest consciousness of the external effect of the operation, the agreeable task of disburdening their hair of its multitudinous inhabitants. No wonder that Captain Cozier was enraged!

♦ COUNTESS N---- ♦

Descending into the cabin I found a party of Hungarian nobles--men of genteel appearance and manners--seated at a round table, playing cards. They had been thus engaged all the morning. The stakes were not inconsiderable, and seemed to be taken up occasionally by the winners with infinite delight. Near them, sanctioning their amusement by her bland looks and smiles, is an elderly lady knitting on a bench, and occasionally conversing with an exceedingly elegant figure, somewhat _petite_, whom, upon further acquaintance, I found to be the Countess N----, on her way from Pesth to Peterwardein. She had married, at the age of eighteen, a hotheaded nobleman of her own country, who became attached to her suddenly on account of her beauty. He took her to Pesth, entered into all the amusements of the place, gambling included, which is carried on in that capital to a formidable extent. The result was, that after a short experiment of two years, they were obliged to give up their establishment, and the young countess was now returning to her mother, attended by a French _femme de chambre_, the only remaining fragment of her transient splendour, except her harp, which she saved also from the ruins. She was reading a book of common Hungarian ballads, which seemed to afford her amusement. In a corner, two little girls were tittering away most merrily--I could not make out at what. Within the ladies’ cabin I heard some of the laughing voices, which recalled the sense of my “murdered sleep” of the morning. Upon the whole, I was pleased with the appearance of my companions, and flattered myself with the hope of a pleasant voyage, in which I was not disappointed.

♦ MOLDAVIAN ADVENTURER ♦

In the course of the day a variety of new characters emerged from the second cabin, and other hiding places, the greater part of whom soon ceased to attract my notice, as they were of that class that seems born for the mere purpose of transforming animal and vegetable substances into human flesh and blood for the ordinary number of years. Among these specimens of creation, however, there was one little man, whom I shall not speedily forget. He was from Moldavia. He had been in the Russian service during the late war with Turkey, but in what capacity I could never satisfactorily discover. I suspect he was a spy. He spoke German, French, and Italian fluently. He wore a blue frock-coat, which probably had served him during the said war, as it could boast of only a part of one button, and two very unequal skirts, remaining in any thing like decent condition. The rest of the garment was covered with grease. A pair of old black stuff trousers patched at the knees in a most unworkmanlike manner, rent and not patched in other parts indescribable, and vilely tattered at the extremities, together with a ghost of a black waistcoat, a cast-off military cap, and wretched boots, offered an apology for a better suit, which he said he had at home. His shirt was also in the list of absentees! He had lost the half of one of his thumbs, the other was wrapped in a bandage. He had not shaved for three weeks--he certainly could not have washed either his hands or his face for three months, and a comb had probably not passed through his hair for three years. To crown his personal peculiarities, he had a very red nose, on the top of which was perched a pair of spectacles.

Nevertheless, with all these strong objections against him--so strong, that I wonder my friend Captain Cozier had not thrown him overboard--there was something about this man which seemed to have actually fascinated a rather genteel youth, who was constantly at his side, and to have already secured him the devotion of a miscellaneous group of Austrian soldiers and their wives, pedlers, and artisans, who occupied mats and sheepskins on deck. With the sailors he was quite a favourite. He whistled well, he sung well, and passed off every thing in a “devil-may-care” kind of way, which gained him admirers. A charlatan at a French fair--a romance reader at the mole of Naples--could not possess more power over his audience, than was exercised over these simpletons by this Moldavian adventurer. He had a common-place-book in his bosom--for his pockets had all vanished--from which he occasionally read to his followers scraps of poetry of his own composition, or selected from the works of celebrated German writers. These readings he interspersed with comments often so droll, that he set the whole deck in a roar. Then he would relate some of his accidents by flood and field, or describe his travels, in the course of which he mentioned the most extraordinary scenes in the world, which had occurred to him at Constantinople, Bucharest, Prague, Vienna, Petersburg, Paris, Berlin, Madrid, Gibraltar, Venice, every where but London, where he had the modesty to confess he had never yet been. His eye, when lighted up by the excitement of the moment, was singularly brilliant, the flush of fine intelligence was on his swarthy weather-beaten cheek, his voice was melody itself, and his diction eloquence.

♦ SERVIAN JEW ♦

Retired from the crowd appeared now and then an extremely well-looking Jew and his daughter, a pale, slight, interesting girl, who seemed to have much to converse about on their own affairs. They were dressed in the Turkish costume. As I passed them the father saluted me in Spanish, at which I was not a little surprised. Upon further acquaintance, I learned that he was descended from one of the Jewish families, which having been expelled in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella from Spain, were permitted to take up their abode in Servia, where their posterity still continue to reside. The Spanish language is spoken by all these Jews, in preference even to the tongue of their fatherland, so great is their traditional affection for the once Moorish kingdoms of the peninsula. This man was returning to Vidin from Vienna, where he had been upon a mercantile speculation, which he did not explain. We became great friends. The daughter had a mandolin, upon which she sometimes favoured me with Moorish and Servian airs.

♦ DEPRESSION OF THE DANUBE ♦

Our boat rubbed upon the natural bed of the river two or three times, very much to the captain’s astonishment and perplexity. Men were consequently stationed at the prow to sound the bottom, when we found, that even where it was deepest, we had not more than six or seven feet of water. I fully expected that we should run aground, an embarrassment which was about the last I should have thought of in the Danube. I had rather imagined that our difficulties would have chiefly consisted in evading the dangerous rapidity of the flood, for I could not have fancied the Danube any thing less than a magnificent inundation, hurrying for ever towards the Euxine. Very much to my surprise, however, I found it considerably shrunk beneath its banks, and often so lethargic in its course, that it seemed more like a lake than the principal river of Europe. But from my cogitations on this subject, I was most agreeably summoned at one o’clock to dinner.