Beggars are not abundant; but women are required to labor quite
extensively in the fields. The habitations of the poor are less wretched
than those of Italy, but not equal to those of the fertile portion of
Switzerland. Irrigation is quite extensively practised, but is far from
universal. The few cattle kept in the wholly arable and thoroughly
cultivated portion of the country are seldom allowed to range, because
of the lack of fences, but are kept up and fed throughout the year.
Women cutting grass in all by-places, and carrying it home by back-loads
to feed their stock, is a common spectacle throughout central Europe.
Trees sometimes line the roads and streams, or irrigating canals, and
sometimes have a piece of ground allotted them whereon to grow at
random, but are rather scarce throughout this region, and I think I saw
square miles entirely devoid of them. Fruit-trees are clearly too
scarce, though Cherries in abundance were offered for sale as we passed.
On the whole, Belgium is not only a fertile but a prosperous country.
At Liege, the Railroad we traversed leaves its westerly for a north-west
course, running past Tirlemont to Malines (Mechlin) and thence to
Antwerp; but we took a sharp turn to the south-west of Malines in order
to reach Brussels, which, though the capital and the largest city of
Belgium, is barely a point or stopping-place on a right line, while
Liege, Namur, Ghent and Bruges are each the point of junction of two or
more completed roads. Brussels has slept while this network has been
woven over the country, and will awake to discover herself shorn of her
trade and sinking into insignificance if she does not immediately bestir
herself. Her location is a fine one, on a ground which rises very
gradually from the great plain to a modest hill southward, and she is
among the best built of modern cities. But already she is off the direct
line from either London or Paris to Germany; I would have saved many
miles by avoiding her and taking the road due west from Liege to Namur,
Charleroi and Mons, where it intersects the Brussels line; and soon the
great bulk of the travel will do so if it does not already. Railroads
are reckless Radicals and are destined by turns to make and to mar the
fortunes of many great emporiums.
NORTH-EASTERN FRANCE.
Tournay in the coal region, fifty miles from Brussels, is the last town
of Belgium; eight miles further is Valenciennes, one of the strong
frontier fortresses of France, with over 20,000 inhabitants, an active
trade and the worth of a dukedom wasted on its fortifications. Here our
baggage underwent a new custom-house scrutiny, which was expeditiously
and rationally made, and I kept on twenty-three miles farther to Douai,
where our Railroad falls into one from Calais, which had already
absorbed those from Dunkirk and Ghent, and where, it being after 10
o'clock, I halted for the night, so as to take a Calais morning train at
4 1/2 and see by fair daylight the country thence to Paris, which I had
already traversed in the dark.
This country presents no novel features. It is not quite so level nor so
perfectly cultivated as central Belgium, but is generally fertile and
promises fairly. The Rye harvest is in progress through all this
country, and is very good, but the breadth of Wheat is much greater, and
it also promises well, though not yet ripened. Westward from Brussels
in Belgium is an extensive Grazing region, bountifully irrigated, and
covered with large herds of fine cattle. Something of this is seen after
crossing into France, but Wheat regains its predominance, while large
tracts are devoted to the Beet, probably for the manufacture of Sugar.
There are few American gardens that can show the Beet in greater
perfection than it exhibits here, in areas of twenty to forty acres.
Wood also becomes far more abundant in the Grazing region, and continues
so nearly up to the walls of Paris, Poplars and other trees of slender
foliage being planted in rows across the fields as well as by the
streams and road-sides. The Vine, which had vanished with the bolder
scenery of the Rhine, reappears only within sight of Paris, where many
of the cultivated fields attest a faultiness or meagerness of
cultivation unworthy of the neighborhood of a great metropolis. I
presume there will be more middling and half middling yields within
twenty miles of Paris than in all Belgium.
I find Paris, and measurably France, in a state of salutary ferment,
connected with the debate in the Assembly on the proposed Revision of
the Constitution. The best speeches are yet to be made, but already the
attention of the People is fixed on the discussion, and it will be
followed to the end with daily increased interest. That end, as is well
known, will be a defeat of the proposed Revision, and of all schemes
looking to the legal and peaceful reestablishment of Monarchy, or the
reelection of Louis Napoleon. And this discussion, this result, will
have immensely strengthened the Republic in the hearts of the French
Millions, as well as in the general conviction of its stability. And if,
with the Suffrage crippled as it is, and probably must continue to be, a
heartily Republican President can be elected here next May, an impulse
will be given to the movement throughout Europe which can scarcely be
withstood. Live the Republic!
XXXV.
PARIS TO LONDON.
LONDON, Tuesday, July 22, 1851.
The quickest and most usual route from Paris to London is that by way of
Calais and Dover; but as I had traversed that once, and part of it
twice, I resolved to try another for my return, and chose the cheapest
and most direct of all--that by way of Rouen, Dieppe, New-Haven and the
Brighton Railroad--which is 32 miles shorter than the Calais route, but
involves four times as long a water passage, and so is spun out to more
than twice the length of the other. We left Paris at 8 yesterday
morning; halted at the fine old town of Rouen before noon; were in
Dieppe at 2 1/2 P. M.; but there we waited for a boat till after
6; then were eight hours crossing the Channel; had to wait at New-Haven
till after 6 this morning before the Custom-House scrutiny of our
baggage was begun; so that only a few were enabled to take the first
train thence for London at a quarter to 7. I was not among the lucky
ones, but had to hold on for the second train at a quarter past 8, and
so did not reach this city till after 10, or twenty-six hours from
Paris, though, with a little enterprise and a decent boat on the
Channel, the trip could easily be made in 14 hours--four for the French
side, six for the Channel, two for the English side and two for
Custom-House delay and leeway of all kinds. If Commodore Vanderbilt or
Mr. Newton would only take compassion on the ignorance and barbarism
prevailing throughout Europe in the matter of steamboat-building, and
establish a branch of his business on this side of the Atlantic, he
would do the cause of Human Progress a service, and signally contribute
to the diminution of the sum of mortal misery.
The night was mild and fair; the wind light; the sea consequently
smooth; and I suffered less, and repented my choice of a route less,
than I had expected to; but consider the facts: Here was the most direct
route by Railroad and Steamboat between the two great Capitals of
Europe--a route constantly traveled by multitudes from all parts of
world--yet the only boats provided for the liquid portion of the way are
two little black, cobbling concerns, each perhaps seventy feet long by
fifteen wide, with no deck above the water line, and not a single berth
for even a lady passenger, though making one passage each night. Who
could suppose that two tolerably civilized nations would endure this in
the middle of 1851?
We were nearly two hundred passengers, and the boat just about decently
held us, but had not sitting-room for all, above and under the deck. But
as about half, being "second class," had no right to enter the main
cabin, those who had that right were enabled to sit and yawn, and try to
cheat themselves into the notion that they would coax sleep to their aid
after a while. Occasionally, one or two having left for a turn on deck,
some drowsy mortal would stretch himself on a setter at full length, but
the remonstrances of others needing seats would soon compel him to
resume a half-upright posture. And so the passage wore away, and between
2 and 3 this morning we reached New-Haven (a petty sea-port at the mouth
of the little river Ouse), where we were permitted promptly to land,
minus our baggage, and repair to a convenient inn. Here I, with several
others, invested two British shillings in a chance to sleep, but the
venture (at least in my case) proved a losing one. It was daylight when
we went to bed, and the incessant tramping, ringing of bells, &c., kept
us for the most part awake and called us up at a very early hour, to
fidget uselessly for the recovery of our baggage, and lose the early
train at last.
The country stretching north-westward from Paris to Dieppe (125 miles)
is less thoroughly cultivated than any other I have seen in Europe out
of Italy. I saw more weedy and thin Rye and ragged Wheat than I had
noted elsewhere. Grass is the chief staple, after leaving the
garden-covered vicinity of Paris, though Wheat, Rye and Oats are
extensively cultivated. The Root crops promise poorly. Indian Corn is
hardly seen, though the Vine is considerably grown. This region is
generally well wooded, but in a straggling, accidental way, which has
the effect neither of Lombard nicety of plantation, nor of the natural
luxuriance of genuine forests. Fruit is not abundant. Irrigation is
considerably practiced. The dwellings of the majority have an
antiquated, ruinous, tumble-down aspect, such as I have observed nowhere
else this side of Lower Italy. On the whole, I doubt whether this
portion of France has improved much within the last fifty years.
Rouen, the capital of ancient Normandy, is the fifth city of France,
only Paris, Lyons, Marseilles and Bordeaux having more inhabitants. Here
the Railroad for Havre diverges from that to Dieppe, which we adhered
to. Rouen is interesting for its antiquities, including several
venerable and richly adorned Churches which I had no time to visit.
Dieppe, on the Channel, has a small harbor, completely landlocked, and
17,000 inhabitants. It is considerably resorted to for sea-bathing, but
seems to have very little trade. I judge that the Railroads now being
extended through France, are likely to arrest the growth or hasten the
decline of most of the smaller cities and towns by facilitating and
cheapening access to the capital, where nearly every Frenchman would
live if he could, and where the genius of people and government (no
matter under what constitution) conspires to concentrate all the
intellectual and artistic life of the Nation.
The Railroad from New-Haven to London passes through no considerable
town, though not far from Brighton and Tunbridge. The country is
undulating and beautiful, mainly devoted to Grass, Wheat and Wood, and
in the very highest condition. It is now toward the end of Haying, and
the Wheat is just beginning to ripen, though that of Central Italy was
mainly harvested a full month ago. But the English Wheat covers the
ground thickly and evenly, and promises a large average crop, especially
if the present fine weather should continue through the next two weeks.
Noble herds of Cattle and flocks of Sheep overspread the spacious
grounds devoted to Pasturage, especially near the Channel, where most of
the land is in Grass. English Agriculture has a thorough and cleanly
aspect which I have rarely observed elsewhere. Belgium is as careful and
as productive, but its alternations of tillage or grass with woodland
are by no means so frequent nor so picturesque as I see here. The
sturdy, hospitable trees of an English park or lawn are not rivaled, so
far as I have seen, on the Continent. I have rarely seen a reach of
country better disposed for effect than that from a point ten miles this
side of New-Haven to within some ten miles of this city, where Market
Gardening supplants regular Farming. Women work in the fields at this
season in England, but not more than one woman to five men were visible
in the hay-fields we passed this morning--it may have been otherwise in
the afternoon. As to beggars, none were visible, begging being
disallowed.
Crossing the Channel shifts the boot very decidedly with respect to
language. Those who were groping in the dark a few hours ago are now in
the brightest sunshine, while the oracles of yesterday are the meekest
disciples to-day. I rode from New-Haven to London in the same car with
three Frenchmen and two Frenchwomen, coming up to the Exhibition, with a
scant half-allowance of English among them; and their efforts to
understand the signs, &c., were interesting. "_London Stout_," displayed
in three-foot letters across the front of a drinking-house, arrested
their attention: "_Stoot? Stoot?_" queried one of them; but the rest
were as much in the dark as he, and I was as deficient in French as they
in English. The befogged one pulled out his dictionary and read over and
over all the French synonyms of "Stout," but this only increased his
perplexity. "Stout" signified "robust," "hearty," "vigorous,"
"resolute," &c., but what then could "_London_ Stout" be? He closed his
book at length in despair and resumed his observations.
LONDON AT MIDNIGHT.
London is given to late hours. At 6 A. M. though the sun has
long been up, there are few stirring in the principal streets;
occasionally you meet a cab hurrying with some passenger to take an
early train; but few shutters are down at 7, and scarcely an omnibus is
to be seen till after 8. The aristocratic dinner hour is 8 P.
M. though I trust few are so unmerciful to themselves as to
postpone their chief meal to that late hour when they have no company.
The morning to sleep, the afternoon to business and the evening to
enjoyment, seems the usual routine with the favored classes.
Walking home from a soiree at the West-end through Regent-street,
Haymarket and the Strand once at midnight, I was struck, though
accustomed to all manner of late hours in New-York, with the relative
activity and wide-awake aspect of London at that hour. It seemed the
High Change of revelry and pleasure-seeking. The taverns, the clubs and
drinking-shops betrayed no symptoms of drowsiness; the theatres were
barely beginning to emit their jaded multitudes; the cabs and private
carriages were more plentiful than by day, and were briskly wheeling
hundreds from party to party; even the omnibuses rattled down the wide
streets as freshly and almost as numerously as at midday. The policemen
were alert on nearly every corner; sharpers and suspicious characters
stepped nimbly about the cross-streets in quest of prey, and innumerable
wrecks of Womanhood, God pity them! shed a deeper darkness over the
shaded and dusky lanes and byways whence they momently emerged to salute
the passer-by. Beneath the shelter of night, Misery stole forth from its
squalid lair, no longer awed by the Police, to beseech the compassion of
the stranger and pour its tale of woe and suffering into the rarely
willing ear. Serene and silvery in the clear night-air rose the nearly
full moon over Southwark, shedding a soft and mellow light on pillar and
edifice, column and spire, and enduing the placid bosom of the Thames
with a tranquil and spiritual beauty. Such was one glimpse of London at
midnight; I have not seen it so impressive by day.
XXXVI.
UNIVERSAL PEACE CONGRESS.
LONDON, July 25, 1851.
The fourth Annual Congress of the friends and champions of Peace,
universal and perpetual, was closed last evening, after a harmonious and
enthusiastic session of three full days. The number of Delegates in
attendance was between eight and nine hundred, while the spacious area
of Exeter Hall, which is said to hold comfortably thirty-five hundred
persons, was well filled throughout, and densely crowded for hours
together. Having been held at a most favorable time and at the point
most accessible to the great body of the active friends of Peace, I
presume the attendance was larger than ever before.
Two thoughts were suggested to me by the character and proceedings of
this assemblage--first, that of the eminently popular and plebeian
origin and impulse of all the great Reform Movements of our age. Every
great public assemblage in Europe for any other purpose will be sure to
number Lords, Dukes, Generals, Princes, among its dignitaries; but none
such came near the Peace Congress; very few of them take part in any
movement of the kind. In the list of Delegates to this Congress, under
the head of "Profession or Trade," you find "Merchant," "Miller,"
"Teacher," "Tanner," "Editor," "Author," "Bookseller," "Jeweller," &c.,
very rarely "Gentleman," or "Baronet," and never a higher title, I
rejoice to say that "Minister" or "Clergyman" appears pretty often, but
never such a word as "Bishop" or "Archbishop," though the most liberal
of the Established Hierarchy, Archbishop Whateley of Dublin, sent a
brief note expressing sympathy with the objects of the meeting. And I
think among the clergymen present there was hardly one belonging to
either of the two Churches which in these realms claim a special and
exclusive patent from Heaven for the dispensation of Religious Truth.
The other thought suggested by this mighty gathering concerns the
character and efficacy of the organizations and sects in which
Christianity is presumed to be embodied. Let a Convention be called of
the Friends of Peace, of Temperance, of Personal Liberty, of the
Sacredness of Human Life, or any other tangible and positive idea, and
many hundreds will come together from distant nations, speaking diverse
languages, and holding antagonist opinions on other important subjects,
and will for days discuss and deliberate in perfect harmony, unite in
appropriate and forcible declarations of their common sentiments and in
the adoption of measures calculated to ensure their triumph. But let a
general Convention of the followers of Jesus Christ be called, with a
view to the speedy Christianization of the world, and either
three-fourths would keep away or the whole time of the meeting be wasted
in an acrimonious quarrel as to the meaning of Christianity or the
wording of the Shibboleth whereby those who were should be distinguished
from those who were not entitled to bear the Christian name.
This contrast implies a great wrong _somewhere_, and for which
_somebody_ must be responsible. I merely suggest it for general
consideration, and pass on.
Not fully sympathising with the Peace Movement in the actual condition
of Europe, I was not a Delegate, and did not attend the first two days'
deliberations. I see not how any one who does not hope to live and
thrive by injustice, oppression and murder, can be otherwise than
ardently favorable to Universal Peace. But, suppose there is a portion
of the human family who _won't have Peace_, nor let others have it, what
then? If you say, "Let us have it as soon as we can," I respond with all
my heart. I would tolerate War, even against pirates or murderers, no
longer than is absolutely necessary to inspire them with a love of
Peace, or put them where they can no longer invade the peace of others.
But so long as Tyrannies and Aristocracies shall say--as they now
practically _do say_ all over Europe, "Yes, we too are for Peace, but it
must be Peace with absolute submission to our good pleasure--Peace with
two-thirds of the fruits of Human Labor devoted to the pampering of our
luxurious appetites, the maintenance of our pomp, the indulgence of our
unbounded desires--it must be a Peace which leaves the Millions in
darkness, in hopeless degradation, the slaves of superstition and the
helpless victims of our lusts." I answer, "No, Sirs! on your conditions
no Peace is possible, but everlasting War rather, until your unjust
pretensions are abandoned or until your power of enforcing them is
destroyed." I have felt a painful apprehension that the prevalence of
the Peace Movement, confined as it is to the Liberal party, and acting
on a state of things which secures almost unbounded power to the
Despots, is calculated to break the spirit of down-trodden nations, and,
by thus postponing the inevitable struggle, protract to an indefinite
period the advent of that Reign of Universal Justice which alone can
usher in the glorious era of Universal Peace. And, had I been a Delegate
to this Universal Peace Congress, I should perhaps have marred its
harmony and its happiness by asking it to consider and vote upon some
such proposition as this:
"_Resolved_, That in commending to all men everywhere the duty
of seeking and preserving Peace, we bear in mind the Apostle's
injunction, '_First_ pure, _then_ peaceable,' and do not deny
but affirm the right of a Nation wantonly invaded by a foreign
army, or intolerably oppressed by its own rulers, to resist
force by force."
I rejoice in being able to say that the general tendency of the speeches
was towards universal Emancipation, mental and physical. I doubt whether
an English audience composed in so large proportion of the
conventionally "respectable classes" ever listened to so much downright
Democracy before. The French speakers, the French writers, were full of
it, and the great event, at least of the last day's session, was the
entrance of a body of fifteen French workmen, delegates to the World's
Exhibition of the "Working Associations" of Paris, who came in a body to
pledge their hearts and hands to the cause of Universal Peace, and to
assure the Congress that the Laborers, the Republicans, of France, were
eminently pacific in their ideas and purposes, and that the preservation
of the Republic, which is the immediate object of their exertions, is
valued not more in its relation to their personal rights and aspirations
than as a step toward the formation of a European confederacy of
emancipated Nations, and thus as the corner-stone of the temple of
Universal Peace. The Speeches of these Workmen just from their benches
in the work-shops of Paris were every way admirable, and were received
with the heartiest enthusiasm. They breathed the true spirit not of
Peace only but of hearty cooeperation in every work calculated to promote
the moral and social well-being of mankind. The wretched cant which
implies _natural enmity_ between France and England, or any other two
nations, was emphatically repudiated by them, and every variety of
forcible expression given to the earnest desire of the Laboring Classes
of France that Peace, Freedom and Brotherhood shall prevail, not in
their own country merely, but throughout the world.