Mark Twain
The Innocents Abroad
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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER XLIII.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CHAPTER XLV.
CHAPTER XLVI.
CHAPTER XLVII.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
CHAPTER XLIX.
CHAPTER L.
CHAPTER LI.
CHAPTER LII.
CHAPTER LIII.
CHAPTER LIV.
CHAPTER LV.
CHAPTER LVI.
CHAPTER LVII.
CHAPTER LVIII.
CHAPTER LIX.
CHAPTER LX.
CHAPTER LXI.
CONCLUSION
PREFACE
This
book is a record of a pleasure trip. If it were a record of a solemn
scientific expedition, it would have about it that gravity, that
profundity, and that impressive incomprehensibility which are so
proper to works of that kind, and withal so attractive. Yet
notwithstanding it is only a record of a pic-nic, it has a purpose,
which is to suggest to the reader how he would be likely to see
Europe and the East if he looked at them with his own eyes instead of
the eyes of those who traveled in those countries before him. I make
small pretense of showing anyone how he ought to look at objects of
interest beyond the sea—other books do that, and therefore, even if
I were competent to do it, there is no need.I
offer no apologies for any departures from the usual style of
travel-writing that may be charged against me—for I think I have
seen with impartial eyes, and I am sure I have written at least
honestly, whether wisely or not.In
this volume I have used portions of letters which I wrote for the
Daily Alta California, of San Francisco, the proprietors of that
journal having waived their rights and given me the necessary
permission. I have also inserted portions of several letters written
for the New York Tribune and the New York Herald.
CHAPTER I.
For
months the great pleasure excursion to Europe and the Holy Land was
chatted about in the newspapers everywhere in America and discussed
at countless firesides. It was a novelty in the way of excursions—its
like had not been thought of before, and it compelled that interest
which attractive novelties always command. It was to be a picnic on a
gigantic scale. The participants in it, instead of freighting an
ungainly steam ferry—boat with youth and beauty and pies and
doughnuts, and paddling up some obscure creek to disembark upon a
grassy lawn and wear themselves out with a long summer day's
laborious frolicking under the impression that it was fun, were to
sail away in a great steamship with flags flying and cannon pealing,
and take a royal holiday beyond the broad ocean in many a strange
clime and in many a land renowned in history! They were to sail for
months over the breezy Atlantic and the sunny Mediterranean; they
were to scamper about the decks by day, filling the ship with shouts
and laughter—or read novels and poetry in the shade of the
smokestacks, or watch for the jelly-fish and the nautilus over the
side, and the shark, the whale, and other strange monsters of the
deep; and at night they were to dance in the open air, on the upper
deck, in the midst of a ballroom that stretched from horizon to
horizon, and was domed by the bending heavens and lighted by no
meaner lamps than the stars and the magnificent moon—dance, and
promenade, and smoke, and sing, and make love, and search the skies
for constellations that never associate with the "Big Dipper"
they were so tired of; and they were to see the ships of twenty
navies—the customs and costumes of twenty curious peoples—the
great cities of half a world—they were to hob-nob with nobility and
hold friendly converse with kings and princes, grand moguls, and the
anointed lords of mighty empires! It was a brave conception; it was
the offspring of a most ingenious brain. It was well advertised, but
it hardly needed it: the bold originality, the extraordinary
character, the seductive nature, and the vastness of the enterprise
provoked comment everywhere and advertised it in every household in
the land. Who could read the program of the excursion without longing
to make one of the party? I will insert it here. It is almost as good
as a map. As a text for this book, nothing could be better:EXCURSION
TO THE HOLY LAND, EGYPT,THE
CRIMEA, GREECE, AND INTERMEDIATE POINTS OF INTEREST.BROOKLYN,
February 1st, 1867The
undersigned will make an excursion as above during the coming season,
and begs to submit to you the following programme:A
first-class steamer, to be under his own command, and capable of
accommodating at least one hundred and fifty cabin passengers, will
be selected, in which will be taken a select company, numbering not
more than three-fourths of the ship's capacity. There is good reason
to believe that this company can be easily made up in this immediate
vicinity, of mutual friends and acquaintances.The
steamer will be provided with every necessary comfort, including
library and musical instruments.An
experienced physician will be on board.Leaving
New York about June 1st, a middle and pleasant route will be taken
across the Atlantic, and passing through the group of Azores, St.
Michael will be reached in about ten days. A day or two will be spent
here, enjoying the fruit and wild scenery of these islands, and the
voyage continued, and Gibraltar reached in three or four days.A
day or two will be spent here in looking over the wonderful
subterraneous fortifications, permission to visit these galleries
being readily obtained.From
Gibraltar, running along the coasts of Spain and France, Marseilles
will be reached in three days. Here ample time will be given not only
to look over the city, which was founded six hundred years before the
Christian era, and its artificial port, the finest of the kind in the
Mediterranean, but to visit Paris during the Great Exhibition; and
the beautiful city of Lyons, lying intermediate, from the heights of
which, on a clear day, Mont Blanc and the Alps can be distinctly
seen. Passengers who may wish to extend the time at Paris can do so,
and, passing down through Switzerland, rejoin the steamer at
Genoa.From
Marseilles to Genoa is a run of one night. The excursionists will
have an opportunity to look over this, the "magnificent city of
palaces," and visit the birthplace of Columbus, twelve miles
off, over a beautiful road built by Napoleon I. From this point,
excursions may be made to Milan, Lakes Como and Maggiore, or to
Milan, Verona (famous for its extraordinary fortifications), Padua,
and Venice. Or, if passengers desire to visit Parma (famous for
Correggio's frescoes) and Bologna, they can by rail go on to
Florence, and rejoin the steamer at Leghorn, thus spending about
three weeks amid the cities most famous for art in Italy.From
Genoa the run to Leghorn will be made along the coast in one night,
and time appropriated to this point in which to visit Florence, its
palaces and galleries; Pisa, its cathedral and "Leaning Tower,"
and Lucca and its baths, and Roman amphitheater; Florence, the most
remote, being distant by rail about sixty miles.From
Leghorn to Naples (calling at Civita Vecchia to land any who may
prefer to go to Rome from that point), the distance will be made in
about thirty-six hours; the route will lay along the coast of Italy,
close by Caprera, Elba, and Corsica. Arrangements have been made to
take on board at Leghorn a pilot for Caprera, and, if practicable, a
call will be made there to visit the home of Garibaldi.Rome
[by rail], Herculaneum, Pompeii, Vesuvius, Vergil's tomb, and
possibly the ruins of Paestum can be visited, as well as the
beautiful surroundings of Naples and its charming bay.The
next point of interest will be Palermo, the most beautiful city of
Sicily, which will be reached in one night from Naples. A day will be
spent here, and leaving in the evening, the course will be taken
towards Athens.Skirting
along the north coast of Sicily, passing through the group of Aeolian
Isles, in sight of Stromboli and Vulcania, both active volcanoes,
through the Straits of Messina, with "Scylla" on the one
hand and "Charybdis" on the other, along the east coast of
Sicily, and in sight of Mount Etna, along the south coast of Italy,
the west and south coast of Greece, in sight of ancient Crete, up
Athens Gulf, and into the Piraeus, Athens will be reached in two and
a half or three days. After tarrying here awhile, the Bay of Salamis
will be crossed, and a day given to Corinth, whence the voyage will
be continued to Constantinople, passing on the way through the
Grecian Archipelago, the Dardanelles, the Sea of Marmora, and the
mouth of the Golden Horn, and arriving in about forty-eight hours
from Athens.After
leaving Constantinople, the way will be taken out through the
beautiful Bosphorus, across the Black Sea to Sebastopol and
Balaklava, a run of about twenty-four hours. Here it is proposed to
remain two days, visiting the harbors, fortifications, and
battlefields of the Crimea; thence back through the Bosphorus,
touching at Constantinople to take in any who may have preferred to
remain there; down through the Sea of Marmora and the Dardanelles,
along the coasts of ancient Troy and Lydia in Asia, to Smyrna, which
will be reached in two or two and a half days from Constantinople. A
sufficient stay will be made here to give opportunity of visiting
Ephesus, fifty miles distant by rail.From
Smyrna towards the Holy Land the course will lay through the Grecian
Archipelago, close by the Isle of Patmos, along the coast of Asia,
ancient Pamphylia, and the Isle of Cyprus. Beirut will be reached in
three days. At Beirut time will be given to visit Damascus; after
which the steamer will proceed to Joppa.From
Joppa, Jerusalem, the River Jordan, the Sea of Tiberias, Nazareth,
Bethany, Bethlehem, and other points of interest in the Holy Land can
be visited, and here those who may have preferred to make the journey
from Beirut through the country, passing through Damascus, Galilee,
Capernaum, Samaria, and by the River Jordan and Sea of Tiberias, can
rejoin the steamer.Leaving
Joppa, the next point of interest to visit will be Alexandria, which
will be reached in twenty-four hours. The ruins of Caesar's Palace,
Pompey's Pillar, Cleopatra's Needle, the Catacombs, and ruins of
ancient Alexandria will be found worth the visit. The journey to
Cairo, one hundred and thirty miles by rail, can be made in a few
hours, and from which can be visited the site of ancient Memphis,
Joseph's Granaries, and the Pyramids.From
Alexandria the route will be taken homeward, calling at Malta,
Cagliari (in Sardinia), and Palma (in Majorca), all magnificent
harbors, with charming scenery, and abounding in fruits.A
day or two will be spent at each place, and leaving Parma in the
evening, Valencia in Spain will be reached the next morning. A few
days will be spent in this, the finest city of Spain.From
Valencia, the homeward course will be continued, skirting along the
coast of Spain. Alicant, Carthagena, Palos, and Malaga will be passed
but a mile or two distant, and Gibraltar reached in about twenty-four
hours.A
stay of one day will be made here, and the voyage continued to
Madeira, which will be reached in about three days. Captain Marryatt
writes: "I do not know a spot on the globe which so much
astonishes and delights upon first arrival as Madeira." A stay
of one or two days will be made here, which, if time permits, may be
extended, and passing on through the islands, and probably in sight
of the Peak of Teneriffe, a southern track will be taken, and the
Atlantic crossed within the latitudes of the northeast trade winds,
where mild and pleasant weather, and a smooth sea, can always be
expected.A
call will be made at Bermuda, which lies directly in this route
homeward, and will be reached in about ten days from Madeira, and
after spending a short time with our friends the Bermudians, the
final departure will be made for home, which will be reached in about
three days.Already,
applications have been received from parties in Europe wishing to
join the Excursion there.The
ship will at all times be a home, where the excursionists, if sick,
will be surrounded by kind friends, and have all possible comfort and
sympathy.Should
contagious sickness exist in any of the ports named in the program,
such ports will be passed, and others of interest substituted.The
price of passage is fixed at $1,250, currency, for each adult
passenger. Choice of rooms and of seats at the tables apportioned in
the order in which passages are engaged; and no passage considered
engaged until ten percent of the passage money is deposited with the
treasurer.Passengers
can remain on board of the steamer, at all ports, if they desire,
without additional expense, and all boating at the expense of the
ship.All
passages must be paid for when taken, in order that the most perfect
arrangements be made for starting at the appointed
time.Applications
for passage must be approved by the committee before tickets are
issued, and can be made to the undersigned.Articles
of interest or curiosity, procured by the passengers during the
voyage, may be brought home in the steamer free of charge.Five
dollars per day, in gold, it is believed, will be a fair calculation
to make for all traveling expenses onshore and at the various points
where passengers may wish to leave the steamer for days at a
time.The
trip can be extended, and the route changed, by unanimous vote of the
passengers.CHAS.
C. DUNCAN, 117 WALL STREET, NEW YORKR.
R. G******, TreasurerCommittee
on ApplicationsJ.
T. H*****, ESQ. R. R. G*****, ESQ. C. C. DuncanCommittee
on Selecting SteamerCAPT.
W. W. S* * * *, Surveyor for Board of UnderwritersC.
W. C******, Consulting Engineer for U.S. and CanadaJ.
T. H*****, Esq.C.
C. DUNCANP.S.—The
very beautiful and substantial side-wheel steamship "Quaker
City" has been chartered for the occasion, and will leave New
York June 8th. Letters have been issued by the government commending
the party to courtesies abroad.What
was there lacking about that program to make it perfectly
irresistible? Nothing that any finite mind could discover. Paris,
England, Scotland, Switzerland, Italy—Garibaldi! The Grecian
Archipelago! Vesuvius! Constantinople! Smyrna! The Holy Land! Egypt
and "our friends the Bermudians"! People in Europe desiring
to join the excursion—contagious sickness to be avoided—boating
at the expense of the ship—physician on board—the circuit of the
globe to be made if the passengers unanimously desired it—the
company to be rigidly selected by a pitiless "Committee on
Applications"—the vessel to be as rigidly selected by as
pitiless a "Committee on Selecting Steamer." Human nature
could not withstand these bewildering temptations. I hurried to the
treasurer's office and deposited my ten percent. I rejoiced to know
that a few vacant staterooms were still left. I did avoid a critical
personal examination into my character by that bowelless committee,
but I referred to all the people of high standing I could think of in
the community who would be least likely to know anything about me.Shortly
a supplementary program was issued which set forth that the Plymouth
Collection of Hymns would be used on board the ship. I then paid the
balance of my passage money.I
was provided with a receipt and duly and officially accepted as an
excursionist. There was happiness in that but it was tame compared to
the novelty of being "select."This
supplementary program also instructed the excursionists to provide
themselves with light musical instruments for amusement in the ship,
with saddles for Syrian travel, green spectacles and umbrellas, veils
for Egypt, and substantial clothing to use in rough pilgrimizing in
the Holy Land. Furthermore, it was suggested that although the ship's
library would afford a fair amount of reading matter, it would still
be well if each passenger would provide himself with a few
guidebooks, a Bible, and some standard works of travel. A list was
appended, which consisted chiefly of books relating to the Holy Land,
since the Holy Land was part of the excursion and seemed to be its
main feature.Reverend
Henry Ward Beecher was to have accompanied the expedition, but urgent
duties obliged him to give up the idea. There were other passengers
who could have been spared better and would have been spared more
willingly. Lieutenant General Sherman was to have been of the party
also, but the Indian war compelled his presence on the plains. A
popular actress had entered her name on the ship's books, but
something interfered and she couldn't go. The "Drummer Boy of
the Potomac" deserted, and lo, we had never a celebrity left!However,
we were to have a "battery of guns" from the Navy
Department (as per advertisement) to be used in answering royal
salutes; and the document furnished by the Secretary of the Navy,
which was to make "General Sherman and party" welcome
guests in the courts and camps of the old world, was still left to
us, though both document and battery, I think, were shorn of somewhat
of their original august proportions. However, had not we the
seductive program still, with its Paris, its Constantinople, Smyrna,
Jerusalem, Jericho, and "our friends the Bermudians?" What
did we care?
CHAPTER II.
Occasionally,
during the following month, I dropped in at 117 Wall Street to
inquire how the repairing and refurnishing of the vessel was coming
on, how additions to the passenger list were averaging, how many
people the committee were decreeing not "select" every day
and banishing in sorrow and tribulation. I was glad to know that we
were to have a little printing press on board and issue a daily
newspaper of our own. I was glad to learn that our piano, our parlor
organ, and our melodeon were to be the best instruments of the kind
that could be had in the market. I was proud to observe that among
our excursionists were three ministers of the gospel, eight doctors,
sixteen or eighteen ladies, several military and naval chieftains
with sounding titles, an ample crop of "Professors" of
various kinds, and a gentleman who had "COMMISSIONER OF THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO EUROPE, ASIA, AND AFRICA" thundering
after his name in one awful blast! I had carefully prepared myself to
take rather a back seat in that ship because of the uncommonly select
material that would alone be permitted to pass through the camel's
eye of that committee on credentials; I had schooled myself to expect
an imposing array of military and naval heroes and to have to set
that back seat still further back in consequence of it maybe; but I
state frankly that I was all unprepared for this crusher.I
fell under that titular avalanche a torn and blighted thing. I said
that if that potentate must go over in our ship, why, I supposed he
must—but that to my thinking, when the United States considered it
necessary to send a dignitary of that tonnage across the ocean, it
would be in better taste, and safer, to take him apart and cart him
over in sections in several ships.Ah,
if I had only known then that he was only a common mortal, and that
his mission had nothing more overpowering about it than the
collecting of seeds and uncommon yams and extraordinary cabbages and
peculiar bullfrogs for that poor, useless, innocent, mildewed old
fossil the Smithsonian Institute, I would have felt so much relieved.During
that memorable month I basked in the happiness of being for once in
my life drifting with the tide of a great popular movement. Everybody
was going to Europe—I, too, was going to Europe. Everybody was
going to the famous Paris Exposition—I, too, was going to the Paris
Exposition. The steamship lines were carrying Americans out of the
various ports of the country at the rate of four or five thousand a
week in the aggregate. If I met a dozen individuals during that month
who were not going to Europe shortly, I have no distinct remembrance
of it now. I walked about the city a good deal with a young Mr.
Blucher, who was booked for the excursion. He was confiding,
good-natured, unsophisticated, companionable; but he was not a man to
set the river on fire. He had the most extraordinary notions about
this European exodus and came at last to consider the whole nation as
packing up for emigration to France. We stepped into a store on
Broadway one day, where he bought a handkerchief, and when the man
could not make change, Mr. B. said:"Never
mind, I'll hand it to you in Paris.""But
I am not going to Paris.""How
is—what did I understand you to say?""I
said I am not going to Paris.""Not
going to Paris! Not g—— well, then, where in the nation are you
going to?""Nowhere
at all.""Not
anywhere whatsoever?—not any place on earth but this?""Not
any place at all but just this—stay here all summer."My
comrade took his purchase and walked out of the store without a
word—walked out with an injured look upon his countenance. Up the
street apiece he broke silence and said impressively: "It was a
lie—that is my opinion of it!"In
the fullness of time the ship was ready to receive her passengers. I
was introduced to the young gentleman who was to be my roommate, and
found him to be intelligent, cheerful of spirit, unselfish, full of
generous impulses, patient, considerate, and wonderfully
good-natured. Not any passenger that sailed in the Quaker City will
withhold his endorsement of what I have just said. We selected a
stateroom forward of the wheel, on the starboard side, "below
decks." It had two berths in it, a dismal dead-light, a sink
with a washbowl in it, and a long, sumptuously cushioned locker,
which was to do service as a sofa—partly—and partly as a hiding
place for our things. Notwithstanding all this furniture, there was
still room to turn around in, but not to swing a cat in, at least
with entire security to the cat. However, the room was large, for a
ship's stateroom, and was in every way satisfactory.The
vessel was appointed to sail on a certain Saturday early in June.A
little after noon on that distinguished Saturday I reached the ship
and went on board. All was bustle and confusion. [I have seen that
remark before somewhere.] The pier was crowded with carriages and
men; passengers were arriving and hurrying on board; the vessel's
decks were encumbered with trunks and valises; groups of
excursionists, arrayed in unattractive traveling costumes, were
moping about in a drizzling rain and looking as droopy and woebegone
as so many molting chickens. The gallant flag was up, but it was
under the spell, too, and hung limp and disheartened by the mast.
Altogether, it was the bluest, bluest spectacle! It was a pleasure
excursion—there was no gainsaying that, because the program said
so—it was so nominated in the bond—but it surely hadn't the
general aspect of one.Finally,
above the banging, and rumbling, and shouting, and hissing of steam
rang the order to "cast off!"—a sudden rush to the
gangways—a scampering ashore of visitors-a revolution of the
wheels, and we were off—the pic-nic was begun! Two very mild cheers
went up from the dripping crowd on the pier; we answered them gently
from the slippery decks; the flag made an effort to wave, and failed;
the "battery of guns" spake not—the ammunition was out.We
steamed down to the foot of the harbor and came to anchor. It was
still raining. And not only raining, but storming. "Outside"
we could see, ourselves, that there was a tremendous sea on. We must
lie still, in the calm harbor, till the storm should abate. Our
passengers hailed from fifteen states; only a few of them had ever
been to sea before; manifestly it would not do to pit them against a
full-blown tempest until they had got their sea-legs on. Toward
evening the two steam tugs that had accompanied us with a rollicking
champagne-party of young New Yorkers on board who wished to bid
farewell to one of our number in due and ancient form departed, and
we were alone on the deep. On deep five fathoms, and anchored fast to
the bottom. And out in the solemn rain, at that. This was pleasuring
with a vengeance.It
was an appropriate relief when the gong sounded for prayer meeting.
The first Saturday night of any other pleasure excursion might have
been devoted to whist and dancing; but I submit it to the
unprejudiced mind if it would have been in good taste for us to
engage in such frivolities, considering what we had gone through and
the frame of mind we were in. We would have shone at a wake, but not
at anything more festive.However,
there is always a cheering influence about the sea; and in my berth
that night, rocked by the measured swell of the waves and lulled by
the murmur of the distant surf, I soon passed tranquilly out of all
consciousness of the dreary experiences of the day and damaging
premonitions of the future.
CHAPTER III.
All
day Sunday at anchor. The storm had gone down a great deal, but the
sea had not. It was still piling its frothy hills high in air
"outside," as we could plainly see with the glasses. We
could not properly begin a pleasure excursion on Sunday; we could not
offer untried stomachs to so pitiless a sea as that. We must lie
still till Monday. And we did. But we had repetitions of church and
prayer-meetings; and so, of course, we were just as eligibly situated
as we could have been any where.I
was up early that Sabbath morning and was early to breakfast. I felt
a perfectly natural desire to have a good, long, unprejudiced look at
the passengers at a time when they should be free from
self-consciousness—which is at breakfast, when such a moment occurs
in the lives of human beings at all.I
was greatly surprised to see so many elderly people—I might almost
say, so many venerable people. A glance at the long lines of heads
was apt to make one think it was all gray. But it was not. There was
a tolerably fair sprinkling of young folks, and another fair
sprinkling of gentlemen and ladies who were non-committal as to age,
being neither actually old or absolutely young.The
next morning we weighed anchor and went to sea. It was a great
happiness to get away after this dragging, dispiriting delay. I
thought there never was such gladness in the air before, such
brightness in the sun, such beauty in the sea. I was satisfied with
the picnic then and with all its belongings. All my malicious
instincts were dead within me; and as America faded out of sight, I
think a spirit of charity rose up in their place that was as
boundless, for the time being, as the broad ocean that was heaving
its billows about us. I wished to express my feelings—I wished to
lift up my voice and sing; but I did not know anything to sing, and
so I was obliged to give up the idea. It was no loss to the ship,
though, perhaps.It
was breezy and pleasant, but the sea was still very rough. One could
not promenade without risking his neck; at one moment the bowsprit
was taking a deadly aim at the sun in midheaven, and at the next it
was trying to harpoon a shark in the bottom of the ocean. What a
weird sensation it is to feel the stern of a ship sinking swiftly
from under you and see the bow climbing high away among the clouds!
One's safest course that day was to clasp a railing and hang on;
walking was too precarious a pastime.By
some happy fortune I was not seasick.—That was a thing to be proud
of. I had not always escaped before. If there is one thing in the
world that will make a man peculiarly and insufferably
self-conceited, it is to have his stomach behave itself, the first
day at sea, when nearly all his comrades are seasick. Soon a
venerable fossil, shawled to the chin and bandaged like a mummy,
appeared at the door of the after deck-house, and the next lurch of
the ship shot him into my arms. I said:"Good-morning,
Sir. It is a fine day."He
put his hand on his stomach and said, "Oh, my!" and then
staggered away and fell over the coop of a skylight.Presently
another old gentleman was projected from the same door with great
violence. I said:"Calm
yourself, Sir—There is no hurry. It is a fine day, Sir."He,
also, put his hand on his stomach and said "Oh, my!" and
reeled away.In
a little while another veteran was discharged abruptly from the same
door, clawing at the air for a saving support. I said:"Good
morning, Sir. It is a fine day for pleasuring. You were about to
say—""Oh,
my!"I
thought so. I anticipated him, anyhow. I stayed there and was
bombarded with old gentlemen for an hour, perhaps; and all I got out
of any of them was "Oh, my!"I
went away then in a thoughtful mood. I said, this is a good pleasure
excursion. I like it. The passengers are not garrulous, but still
they are sociable. I like those old people, but somehow they all seem
to have the "Oh, my" rather bad.I
knew what was the matter with them. They were seasick. And I was glad
of it. We all like to see people seasick when we are not, ourselves.
Playing whist by the cabin lamps when it is storming outside is
pleasant; walking the quarterdeck in the moonlight is pleasant;
smoking in the breezy foretop is pleasant when one is not afraid to
go up there; but these are all feeble and commonplace compared with
the joy of seeing people suffering the miseries of seasickness.I
picked up a good deal of information during the afternoon. At one
time I was climbing up the quarterdeck when the vessel's stem was in
the sky; I was smoking a cigar and feeling passably comfortable.
Somebody ejaculated:"Come,
now, that won't answer. Read the sign up there—NO SMOKING ABAFT THE
WHEEL!"It
was Captain Duncan, chief of the expedition. I went forward, of
course. I saw a long spyglass lying on a desk in one of the
upper-deck state-rooms back of the pilot-house and reached after
it—there was a ship in the distance."Ah,
ah—hands off! Come out of that!"I
came out of that. I said to a deck-sweep—but in a low voice:"Who
is that overgrown pirate with the whiskers and the discordant
voice?""It's
Captain Bursley—executive officer—sailing master."I
loitered about awhile, and then, for want of something better to do,
fell to carving a railing with my knife. Somebody said, in an
insinuating, admonitory voice:"Now,
say—my friend—don't you know any better than to be whittling the
ship all to pieces that way? You ought to know better than that."I
went back and found the deck sweep."Who
is that smooth-faced, animated outrage yonder in the fine clothes?""That's
Captain L****, the owner of the ship—he's one of the main bosses."In
the course of time I brought up on the starboard side of the
pilot-house and found a sextant lying on a bench. Now, I said, they
"take the sun" through this thing; I should think I might
see that vessel through it. I had hardly got it to my eye when
someone touched me on the shoulder and said deprecatingly:"I'll
have to get you to give that to me, Sir. If there's anything you'd
like to know about taking the sun, I'd as soon tell you as not—but
I don't like to trust anybody with that instrument. If you want any
figuring done—Aye, aye, sir!"He
was gone to answer a call from the other side. I sought the
deck-sweep."Who
is that spider-legged gorilla yonder with the sanctimonious
countenance?""It's
Captain Jones, sir—the chief mate.""Well.
This goes clear away ahead of anything I ever heard of before. Do
you—now I ask you as a man and a brother—do you think I could
venture to throw a rock here in any given direction without hitting a
captain of this ship?""Well,
sir, I don't know—I think likely you'd fetch the captain of the
watch may be, because he's a-standing right yonder in the way."I
went below—meditating and a little downhearted. I thought, if five
cooks can spoil a broth, what may not five captains do with a
pleasure excursion.
CHAPTER IV.
We
plowed along bravely for a week or more, and without any conflict of
jurisdiction among the captains worth mentioning. The passengers soon
learned to accommodate themselves to their new circumstances, and
life in the ship became nearly as systematically monotonous as the
routine of a barrack. I do not mean that it was dull, for it was not
entirely so by any means—but there was a good deal of sameness
about it. As is always the fashion at sea, the passengers shortly
began to pick up sailor terms—a sign that they were beginning to
feel at home. Half-past six was no longer half-past six to these
pilgrims from New England, the South, and the Mississippi Valley, it
was "seven bells"; eight, twelve, and four o'clock were
"eight bells"; the captain did not take the longitude at
nine o'clock, but at "two bells." They spoke glibly of the
"after cabin," the "for'rard cabin," "port
and starboard" and the "fo'castle."At
seven bells the first gong rang; at eight there was breakfast, for
such as were not too seasick to eat it. After that all the well
people walked arm-in-arm up and down the long promenade deck,
enjoying the fine summer mornings, and the seasick ones crawled out
and propped themselves up in the lee of the paddle-boxes and ate
their dismal tea and toast, and looked wretched. From eleven o'clock
until luncheon, and from luncheon until dinner at six in the evening,
the employments and amusements were various. Some reading was done,
and much smoking and sewing, though not by the same parties; there
were the monsters of the deep to be looked after and wondered at;
strange ships had to be scrutinized through opera-glasses, and sage
decisions arrived at concerning them; and more than that, everybody
took a personal interest in seeing that the flag was run up and
politely dipped three times in response to the salutes of those
strangers; in the smoking room there were always parties of gentlemen
playing euchre, draughts and dominoes, especially dominoes, that
delightfully harmless game; and down on the main deck,
"for'rard"—for'rard of the chicken-coops and the
cattle—we had what was called "horse billiards." Horse
billiards is a fine game. It affords good, active exercise, hilarity,
and consuming excitement. It is a mixture of "hop-scotch"
and shuffleboard played with a crutch. A large hop-scotch diagram is
marked out on the deck with chalk, and each compartment numbered. You
stand off three or four steps, with some broad wooden disks before
you on the deck, and these you send forward with a vigorous thrust of
a long crutch. If a disk stops on a chalk line, it does not count
anything. If it stops in division No. 7, it counts 7; in 5, it counts
5, and so on. The game is 100, and four can play at a time. That game
would be very simple played on a stationary floor, but with us, to
play it well required science. We had to allow for the reeling of the
ship to the right or the left. Very often one made calculations for a
heel to the right and the ship did not go that way. The consequence
was that that disk missed the whole hopscotch plan a yard or two, and
then there was humiliation on one side and laughter on the other.When
it rained the passengers had to stay in the house, of course—or at
least the cabins—and amuse themselves with games, reading, looking
out of the windows at the very familiar billows, and talking gossip.By
7 o'clock in the evening, dinner was about over; an hour's promenade
on the upper deck followed; then the gong sounded and a large
majority of the party repaired to the after cabin (upper), a handsome
saloon fifty or sixty feet long, for prayers. The unregenerated
called this saloon the "Synagogue." The devotions consisted
only of two hymns from the Plymouth Collection and a short prayer,
and seldom occupied more than fifteen minutes. The hymns were
accompanied by parlor-organ music when the sea was smooth enough to
allow a performer to sit at the instrument without being lashed to
his chair.After
prayers the Synagogue shortly took the semblance of a writing school.
The like of that picture was never seen in a ship before. Behind the
long dining tables on either side of the saloon, and scattered from
one end to the other of the latter, some twenty or thirty gentlemen
and ladies sat them down under the swaying lamps and for two or three
hours wrote diligently in their journals. Alas! that journals so
voluminously begun should come to so lame and impotent a conclusion
as most of them did! I doubt if there is a single pilgrim of all that
host but can show a hundred fair pages of journal concerning the
first twenty days' voyaging in the Quaker City, and I am morally
certain that not ten of the party can show twenty pages of journal
for the succeeding twenty thousand miles of voyaging! At certain
periods it becomes the dearest ambition of a man to keep a faithful
record of his performances in a book; and he dashes at this work with
an enthusiasm that imposes on him the notion that keeping a journal
is the veriest pastime in the world, and the pleasantest. But if he
only lives twenty-one days, he will find out that only those rare
natures that are made up of pluck, endurance, devotion to duty for
duty's sake, and invincible determination may hope to venture upon so
tremendous an enterprise as the keeping of a journal and not sustain
a shameful defeat.One
of our favorite youths, Jack, a splendid young fellow with a head
full of good sense, and a pair of legs that were a wonder to look
upon in the way of length and straightness and slimness, used to
report progress every morning in the most glowing and spirited way,
and say:"Oh,
I'm coming along bully!" (he was a little given to slang in his
happier moods.) "I wrote ten pages in my journal last night—and
you know I wrote nine the night before and twelve the night before
that. Why, it's only fun!""What
do you find to put in it, Jack?""Oh,
everything. Latitude and longitude, noon every day; and how many
miles we made last twenty-four hours; and all the domino games I beat
and horse billiards; and whales and sharks and porpoises; and the
text of the sermon Sundays (because that'll tell at home, you know);
and the ships we saluted and what nation they were; and which way the
wind was, and whether there was a heavy sea, and what sail we
carried, though we don't ever carry any, principally, going against a
head wind always—wonder what is the reason of that?—and how many
lies Moult has told—Oh, every thing! I've got everything down. My
father told me to keep that journal. Father wouldn't take a thousand
dollars for it when I get it done.""No,
Jack; it will be worth more than a thousand dollars—when you get it
done.""Do
you?—no, but do you think it will, though?"Yes,
it will be worth at least as much as a thousand dollars—when you
get it done. May be more.""Well,
I about half think so, myself. It ain't no slouch of a journal."But
it shortly became a most lamentable "slouch of a journal."
One night in Paris, after a hard day's toil in sightseeing, I said:"Now
I'll go and stroll around the cafes awhile, Jack, and give you a
chance to write up your journal, old fellow."His
countenance lost its fire. He said:"Well,
no, you needn't mind. I think I won't run that journal anymore. It is
awful tedious. Do you know—I reckon I'm as much as four thousand
pages behind hand. I haven't got any France in it at all. First I
thought I'd leave France out and start fresh. But that wouldn't do,
would it? The governor would say, 'Hello, here—didn't see anything
in France? That cat wouldn't fight, you know. First I thought I'd
copy France out of the guide-book, like old Badger in the for'rard
cabin, who's writing a book, but there's more than three hundred
pages of it. Oh, I don't think a journal's any use—do you? They're
only a bother, ain't they?""Yes,
a journal that is incomplete isn't of much use, but a journal
properly kept is worth a thousand dollars—when you've got it done.""A
thousand!—well, I should think so. I wouldn't finish it for a
million."His
experience was only the experience of the majority of that
industrious night school in the cabin. If you wish to inflict a
heartless and malignant punishment upon a young person, pledge him to
keep a journal a year.A
good many expedients were resorted to to keep the excursionists
amused and satisfied. A club was formed, of all the passengers, which
met in the writing school after prayers and read aloud about the
countries we were approaching and discussed the information so
obtained.Several
times the photographer of the expedition brought out his transparent
pictures and gave us a handsome magic-lantern exhibition. His views
were nearly all of foreign scenes, but there were one or two home
pictures among them. He advertised that he would "open his
performance in the after cabin at 'two bells' (nine P.M.) and show
the passengers where they shall eventually arrive"—which was
all very well, but by a funny accident the first picture that flamed
out upon the canvas was a view of Greenwood Cemetery!On
several starlight nights we danced on the upper deck, under the
awnings, and made something of a ball-room display of brilliancy by
hanging a number of ship's lanterns to the stanchions. Our music
consisted of the well-mixed strains of a melodeon which was a little
asthmatic and apt to catch its breath where it ought to come out
strong, a clarinet which was a little unreliable on the high keys and
rather melancholy on the low ones, and a disreputable accordion that
had a leak somewhere and breathed louder than it squawked—a more
elegant term does not occur to me just now. However, the dancing was
infinitely worse than the music. When the ship rolled to starboard
the whole platoon of dancers came charging down to starboard with it,
and brought up in mass at the rail; and when it rolled to port they
went floundering down to port with the same unanimity of sentiment.
Waltzers spun around precariously for a matter of fifteen seconds and
then went scurrying down to the rail as if they meant to go
overboard. The Virginia reel, as performed on board the Quaker City,
had more genuine reel about it than any reel I ever saw before, and
was as full of interest to the spectator as it was full of desperate
chances and hairbreadth escapes to the participant. We gave up
dancing, finally.We
celebrated a lady's birthday anniversary with toasts, speeches, a
poem, and so forth. We also had a mock trial. No ship ever went to
sea that hadn't a mock trial on board. The purser was accused of
stealing an overcoat from stateroom No. 10. A judge was appointed;
also clerks, a crier of the court, constables, sheriffs; counsel for
the State and for the defendant; witnesses were subpoenaed, and a
jury empaneled after much challenging. The witnesses were stupid and
unreliable and contradictory, as witnesses always are. The counsel
were eloquent, argumentative, and vindictively abusive of each other,
as was characteristic and proper. The case was at last submitted and
duly finished by the judge with an absurd decision and a ridiculous
sentence.The
acting of charades was tried on several evenings by the young
gentlemen and ladies, in the cabins, and proved the most
distinguished success of all the amusement experiments.An
attempt was made to organize a debating club, but it was a failure.
There was no oratorical talent in the ship.We
all enjoyed ourselves—I think I can safely say that, but it was in
a rather quiet way. We very, very seldom played the piano; we played
the flute and the clarinet together, and made good music, too, what
there was of it, but we always played the same old tune; it was a
very pretty tune—how well I remember it—I wonder when I shall
ever get rid of it. We never played either the melodeon or the organ
except at devotions—but I am too fast: young Albert did know part
of a tune something about "O Something-Or-Other How Sweet It Is
to Know That He's His What's-his-Name" (I do not remember the
exact title of it, but it was very plaintive and full of sentiment);
Albert played that pretty much all the time until we contracted with
him to restrain himself. But nobody ever sang by moonlight on the
upper deck, and the congregational singing at church and prayers was
not of a superior order of architecture. I put up with it as long as
I could and then joined in and tried to improve it, but this
encouraged young George to join in too, and that made a failure of
it; because George's voice was just "turning," and when he
was singing a dismal sort of bass it was apt to fly off the handle
and startle everybody with a most discordant cackle on the upper
notes. George didn't know the tunes, either, which was also a
drawback to his performances. I said:"Come,
now, George, don't improvise. It looks too egotistical. It will
provoke remark. Just stick to 'Coronation,' like the others. It is a
good tune—you can't improve it any, just off-hand, in this way.""Why,
I'm not trying to improve it—and I am singing like the others—just
as it is in the notes."And
he honestly thought he was, too; and so he had no one to blame but
himself when his voice caught on the center occasionally and gave him
the lockjaw.There
were those among the unregenerated who attributed the unceasing
head-winds to our distressing choir-music. There were those who said
openly that it was taking chances enough to have such ghastly music
going on, even when it was at its best; and that to exaggerate the
crime by letting George help was simply flying in the face of
Providence. These said that the choir would keep up their lacerating
attempts at melody until they would bring down a storm some day that
would sink the ship.There
were even grumblers at the prayers. The executive officer said the
pilgrims had no charity:"There
they are, down there every night at eight bells, praying for fair
winds—when they know as well as I do that this is the only ship
going east this time of the year, but there's a thousand coming
west—what's a fair wind for us is a head wind to them—the
Almighty's blowing a fair wind for a thousand vessels, and this tribe
wants him to turn it clear around so as to accommodate one—and she
a steamship at that! It ain't good sense, it ain't good reason, it
ain't good Christianity, it ain't common human charity. Avast with
such nonsense!"
CHAPTER V.
Taking
it "by and large," as the sailors say, we had a pleasant
ten days' run from New York to the Azores islands—not a fast run,
for the distance is only twenty-four hundred miles, but a right
pleasant one in the main. True, we had head winds all the time, and
several stormy experiences which sent fifty percent of the passengers
to bed sick and made the ship look dismal and deserted—stormy
experiences that all will remember who weathered them on the tumbling
deck and caught the vast sheets of spray that every now and then
sprang high in air from the weather bow and swept the ship like a
thunder-shower; but for the most part we had balmy summer weather and
nights that were even finer than the days. We had the phenomenon of a
full moon located just in the same spot in the heavens at the same
hour every night. The reason of this singular conduct on the part of
the moon did not occur to us at first, but it did afterward when we
reflected that we were gaining about twenty minutes every day because
we were going east so fast—we gained just about enough every day to
keep along with the moon. It was becoming an old moon to the friends
we had left behind us, but to us Joshuas it stood still in the same
place and remained always the same.Young
Mr. Blucher, who is from the Far West and is on his first voyage, was
a good deal worried by the constantly changing "ship time."
He was proud of his new watch at first and used to drag it out
promptly when eight bells struck at noon, but he came to look after a
while as if he were losing confidence in it. Seven days out from New
York he came on deck and said with great decision:"This
thing's a swindle!""What's
a swindle?""Why,
this watch. I bought her out in Illinois—gave $150 for her—and I
thought she was good. And, by George, she is good onshore, but
somehow she don't keep up her lick here on the water—gets seasick
may be. She skips; she runs along regular enough till half-past
eleven, and then, all of a sudden, she lets down. I've set that old
regulator up faster and faster, till I've shoved it clear around, but
it don't do any good; she just distances every watch in the ship, and
clatters along in a way that's astonishing till it is noon, but them
eight bells always gets in about ten minutes ahead of her anyway. I
don't know what to do with her now. She's doing all she can—she's
going her best gait, but it won't save her. Now, don't you know,
there ain't a watch in the ship that's making better time than she
is, but what does it signify? When you hear them eight bells you'll
find her just about ten minutes short of her score sure."The
ship was gaining a full hour every three days, and this fellow was
trying to make his watch go fast enough to keep up to her. But, as he
had said, he had pushed the regulator up as far as it would go, and
the watch was "on its best gait," and so nothing was left
him but to fold his hands and see the ship beat the race. We sent him
to the captain, and he explained to him the mystery of "ship
time" and set his troubled mind at rest. This young man asked a
great many questions about seasickness before we left, and wanted to
know what its characteristics were and how he was to tell when he had
it. He found out.We
saw the usual sharks, blackfish, porpoises, etc., of course, and by
and by large schools of Portuguese men-of-war were added to the
regular list of sea wonders. Some of them were white and some of a
brilliant carmine color. The nautilus is nothing but a transparent
web of jelly that spreads itself to catch the wind, and has
fleshy-looking strings a foot or two long dangling from it to keep it
steady in the water. It is an accomplished sailor and has good sailor
judgment. It reefs its sail when a storm threatens or the wind blows
pretty hard, and furls it entirely and goes down when a gale blows.
Ordinarily it keeps its sail wet and in good sailing order by turning
over and dipping it in the water for a moment. Seamen say the
nautilus is only found in these waters between the 35th and 45th
parallels of latitude.At
three o'clock on the morning of the twenty-first of June, we were
awakened and notified that the Azores islands were in sight. I said I
did not take any interest in islands at three o'clock in the morning.
But another persecutor came, and then another and another, and
finally believing that the general enthusiasm would permit no one to
slumber in peace, I got up and went sleepily on deck. It was five and
a half o'clock now, and a raw, blustering morning. The passengers
were huddled about the smoke-stacks and fortified behind ventilators,
and all were wrapped in wintry costumes and looking sleepy and
unhappy in the pitiless gale and the drenching spray.The
island in sight was Flores. It seemed only a mountain of mud standing
up out of the dull mists of the sea. But as we bore down upon it the
sun came out and made it a beautiful picture—a mass of green farms
and meadows that swelled up to a height of fifteen hundred feet and
mingled its upper outlines with the clouds. It was ribbed with sharp,
steep ridges and cloven with narrow canyons, and here and there on
the heights, rocky upheavals shaped themselves into mimic battlements
and castles; and out of rifted clouds came broad shafts of sunlight,
that painted summit, and slope and glen, with bands of fire, and left
belts of somber shade between. It was the aurora borealis of the
frozen pole exiled to a summer land!We
skirted around two-thirds of the island, four miles from shore, and
all the opera glasses in the ship were called into requisition to
settle disputes as to whether mossy spots on the uplands were groves
of trees or groves of weeds, or whether the white villages down by
the sea were really villages or only the clustering tombstones of
cemeteries. Finally we stood to sea and bore away for San Miguel, and
Flores shortly became a dome of mud again and sank down among the
mists, and disappeared. But to many a seasick passenger it was good
to see the green hills again, and all were more cheerful after this
episode than anybody could have expected them to be, considering how
sinfully early they had gotten up.But
we had to change our purpose about San Miguel, for a storm came up
about noon that so tossed and pitched the vessel that common sense
dictated a run for shelter. Therefore we steered for the nearest
island of the group—Fayal (the people there pronounce it Fy-all,
and put the accent on the first syllable). We anchored in the open
roadstead of Horta, half a mile from the shore. The town has eight
thousand to ten thousand inhabitants. Its snow-white houses nestle
cosily in a sea of fresh green vegetation, and no village could look
prettier or more attractive. It sits in the lap of an amphitheater of
hills which are three hundred to seven hundred feet high, and
carefully cultivated clear to their summits—not a foot of soil left
idle. Every farm and every acre is cut up into little square
inclosures by stone walls, whose duty it is to protect the growing
products from the destructive gales that blow there. These hundreds
of green squares, marked by their black lava walls, make the hills
look like vast checkerboards.The
islands belong to Portugal, and everything in Fayal has Portuguese
characteristics about it. But more of that anon. A swarm of swarthy,
noisy, lying, shoulder-shrugging, gesticulating Portuguese boatmen,
with brass rings in their ears and fraud in their hearts, climbed the
ship's sides, and various parties of us contracted with them to take
us ashore at so much a head, silver coin of any country. We landed
under the walls of a little fort, armed with batteries of
twelve-and-thirty-two-pounders, which Horta considered a most
formidable institution, but if we were ever to get after it with one
of our turreted monitors, they would have to move it out in the
country if they wanted it where they could go and find it again when
they needed it. The group on the pier was a rusty one—men and
women, and boys and girls, all ragged and barefoot, uncombed and
unclean, and by instinct, education, and profession beggars. They
trooped after us, and never more while we tarried in Fayal did we get
rid of them. We walked up the middle of the principal street, and
these vermin surrounded us on all sides and glared upon us; and every
moment excited couples shot ahead of the procession to get a good
look back, just as village boys do when they accompany the elephant
on his advertising trip from street to street. It was very flattering
to me to be part of the material for such a sensation. Here and there
in the doorways we saw women with fashionable Portuguese hoods on.
This hood is of thick blue cloth, attached to a cloak of the same
stuff, and is a marvel of ugliness. It stands up high and spreads far
abroad, and is unfathomably deep. It fits like a circus tent, and a
woman's head is hidden away in it like the man's who prompts the
singers from his tin shed in the stage of an opera. There is no
particle of trimming about this monstrous capote, as they call it—it
is just a plain, ugly dead-blue mass of sail, and a woman can't go
within eight points of the wind with one of them on; she has to go
before the wind or not at all. The general style of the capote is the
same in all the islands, and will remain so for the next ten thousand
years, but each island shapes its capotes just enough differently
from the others to enable an observer to tell at a glance what
particular island a lady hails from.The
Portuguese pennies, or reis (pronounced rays), are prodigious. It
takes one thousand reis to make a dollar, and all financial estimates
are made in reis. We did not know this until after we had found it
out through Blucher. Blucher said he was so happy and so grateful to
be on solid land once more that he wanted to give a feast—said he
had heard it was a cheap land, and he was bound to have a grand
banquet. He invited nine of us, and we ate an excellent dinner at the
principal hotel. In the midst of the jollity produced by good cigars,
good wine, and passable anecdotes, the landlord presented his bill.
Blucher glanced at it and his countenance fell. He took another look
to assure himself that his senses had not deceived him and then read
the items aloud, in a faltering voice, while the roses in his cheeks
turned to ashes:"'Ten
dinners, at 600 reis, 6,000 reis!' Ruin and desolation!"'Twenty-five
cigars, at 100 reis, 2,500 reis!' Oh, my sainted mother!"'Eleven
bottles of wine, at 1,200 reis, 13,200 reis!' Be with us all!"'TOTAL,
TWENTY-ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED REIS!' The suffering Moses! There
ain't money enough in the ship to pay that bill! Go—leave me to my
misery, boys, I am a ruined community."I
think it was the blankest-looking party I ever saw. Nobody could say
a word. It was as if every soul had been stricken dumb. Wine glasses
descended slowly to the table, their contents untasted. Cigars
dropped unnoticed from nerveless fingers. Each man sought his
neighbor's eye, but found in it no ray of hope, no encouragement. At
last the fearful silence was broken. The shadow of a desperate
resolve settled upon Blucher's countenance like a cloud, and he rose
up and said:"Landlord,
this is a low, mean swindle, and I'll never, never stand it. Here's a
hundred and fifty dollars, Sir, and it's all you'll get—I'll swim
in blood before I'll pay a cent more."Our
spirits rose and the landlord's fell—at least we thought so; he was
confused, at any rate, notwithstanding he had not understood a word
that had been said. He glanced from the little pile of gold pieces to
Blucher several times and then went out. He must have visited an
American, for when he returned, he brought back his bill translated
into a language that a Christian could understand—thus:10 dinners, 6,000 reis,
or$6.0025 cigars, 2,500 reis,
or2.5011 bottles wine, 13,200
reis, or 13.20Total 21,700 reis, or$21.70Happiness
reigned once more in Blucher's dinner party. More refreshments were
ordered.
CHAPTER VI.
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!