At all the tourist-towns abroad British visitors are much looked
for; and it is amusing to see the mode in which inscriptions and
advertisements are drawn up in English, or what is supposed to be
English, for the sake of riveting the attention of possible guests or
customers belonging to the 'nation of shopkeepers.' Many tourists have
taken copies of these curiosities, which have afterwards found their
way into print in various forms.
Hotels are famous for these curiosities: the variety of languages
spoken by the visitors supplying a reason for this. The 'Drei Mohren'
(Three Moors) hotel at Augsburg has the following entry in the
visitors' book: 'January 28th, 1815; His Grace Arthur Wellesley, &c.
&c. &c.; great honour arrived at the beginning of this year to the
three Moors; this illustrious warrior, whose glorious atchievements,
which, cradled in India, have filled Europe with his renown, descended
in it.' At the 'Trois Allies' hotel, Salzburg, some few years ago, mine
host invited English visitors by the following announcement: 'George
Nelböck begs leave to recommand his hotel to the Three Allied, situated
vis-a-vis of the birth-home of Mozart, which offers all comforts
to the meanest charges.' The prepositions _at_ and _to_ are great
stumbling-blocks to such concocters of English sentences and phrases;
the pronouns _which_ and _who_ not much less so. An hotel-keeper at
Rastadt bestowed great pains on an announcement which with many others
was exhibited in the entrance passage or hall: 'The underwritten has
the honor of informing the public that he has made the acquisition of
the hotel to the Savage, well situated in the middle of this city. He
shall endeavor to do all duties which gentlemen travellers can justly
expect; and invites them to please to convince themselves of it by
their kind lodgings at his house'--signed 'Basil Singisem, before the
tenant of the hotel to the Stork in this city.' If the good man had hit
upon 'Savage Hotel' and 'Stork Hotel' he would have been a little more
intelligible.
The circular of an Italian host, printed in four languages, discourses
thus to English visitors concerning the excellences of the hotel
'Torre di Londra,' Verona: 'The old inn of London's Tower, placed
among the more agreeable situation of Verona's course, belonging
at Sir Theodosius Trianoni, restor'd by the decorum most indulgent
to good things, of life's eases; which are favored from every acts
liable at inn same, with all object that is concerned, conveniency
of stage coaches, proper horses, but good forages, and coach houses.
Do offers at innkeeper the constant hope, to be honored from a great
concourse, where politeness, good genius of meats, round table,
coffee-house, hackney coach, men servant of place, swiftness of
service, and moderation of prices, shall arrive to accomplish in Him
all satisfaction, and at Sirs, who will do the favor honoring him with
a very assur'd kindness.' No doubt 'Sir Theodosius' took some pride in
this composition.
The card of an old inn at Paris some years ago contained the
announcement, 'Salines baths at every o'clock;' and of another, 'The
wines shall leave you nothing to hope for.' In an hotel at Mount Sinai,
on the fly-leaf of the visitors' book, English travellers are informed
that 'Here in too were inscribed all whose in the rule of the year come
from different parts, different cities and countries, pilgrims and
travellers of any different rank and religion or profession, for advice
and notice thereof to their posterity, and even also in owr own of
memory, acknowledging.'
On one of the slopes of Mount Etna, at a height of more than nine
thousand feet above the sea, is a house built of lava, containing
three small rooms and a shed for mules. Up to that point tourists and
explorers can ascend on mules, but the remainder of the climb must be
made on foot. Hence the desirability of having some building in which
mules and muleteers may sojourn for a time, while their hirers or
employers are wending their laborious way up to the volcanic summit.
When an English force occupied Sicily in 1811, the three brothers
Gemmellaro, the most indefatigable of explorers and describers of
Etna, obtained from the commanding officer the aid of some of the
soldiers (probably sappers and miners) in building the lava house above
adverted to; giving it, in compliment, the name _Casa degli Inglesi_
or 'English House.' Provided with a few humble pieces of furniture, it
is placed at the service of visitors, who must bring their own food
and fuel with them, and bedding if they wish to pass a night there.
The key is kept at a house at the foot of the mountain, the residence
(lately if not even now) of a member of the Gemmellaro family; it must
be applied for when required, and returned when done with, accompanied
by a signed certificate declaring that the liberal accommodation has
not been abused. Printed notices are hung on the walls of the casa in
various languages; one of which, in English, informs English-speaking
visitors that 'In consequence of the damage suffered in the house
called English, set on the Etna, for the reprehensible conduct of some
persons there recovered,' certain regulations are laid down. Visitors,
when applying for the key, must give name, title, and country, and must
at the same time 'tell the guide's and muleteer's names, just to drive
away those who have been so rough to spoil the movables and destroy
the stables. It is not permitted to any body to put mules into rooms
destined for the use of people, notwithstanding the insufficiency of
stables. It is forbidden likewise to dirtes the walls with pencil or
coal. M. Gemmellaro will provide a blank book for those learned people
curious to write their observations. A particular care must be taken
for the movables settled in the house.... Persons neglecting to execute
the above articles will be severely punished, and are obliged to pay
damage and expenses.' A significant hint winds up the announcement: 'It
is likewise proper and just to reward M. Gemmellaro for the expense
of movables and for the advantages travellers may get to examine the
Volcan.'
As English travellers will go whithersoever there is anything to be
seen, hotel-keepers look out for them near buried cities as well as
near volcanic mountains. The following was copied by a tourist from a
card for English visitors, prepared by the host of an establishment
at or near the excavations of Pompeii: 'That hotel, open since a very
few days, is renowned for the cleanness of the apartments and linen;
for the exactness of the service; and for the eccellence of the true
French cookery. Being situated at proximity of that regeneration, it
will be propitious to receive families whatever, which will desire to
reside alternately in that town, to visit the monuments new found,
and to breathe thither the salubrity of the air. That establishment
will avoid to all travellers, visitors of that sepult city, and to the
artists (willing draw the antiquities) a great discordance, occasioned
by the tardy and expensive contour of the iron way. People will find
equally thither, a complete sortiment of stranger wines, and of the
kingdom, hot and cold baths, stables and coach-houses, the whole with
very moderate price. Now, all the applications and endeavors of the
hoste will tend always to correspond to the tastes and desires of their
customers, which will acquire without doubt to him, in that town, the
reputation whome he is ambitious.' The landlord's meaning is pretty
clear, in spite of his funny English, save in relation to 'the tardy
and expensive contour of the iron way,' which however, may have a vague
reference to railways.
A refreshment house at Amsterdam sells 'upright English
ginger-beer'--the Dutch word for 'genuine,' _opregt_, having led to a
muddling of the English.
Shopkeepers will naturally be as desirous as hotel-keepers to draw
the attention of possible customers who are more likely to read
English than any other language. A firm at Marseilles, claiming a
good repute for their preparation of the liqueur called _Vermuth_,
have labels on some of their bottles to the following effect: 'The
Wermouth is a brightly bitter and perfumed with additional and good
vegetable white wine. This is tonic, stimulant, febrifuge, and costive
drinking; mixed with water it is aperitive, refreshing, and also
a powerful preservative of fivers; those latter are very usual in
warmth countries, and of course that liquor has just been particularly
made up for that occasion.' It is quite certain that M. Lapresté, a
restaurateur at Versailles, said exactly what he did not mean in the
following announcement; by confounding the French _prévenir_ with the
English _prevent_: 'To Rendezvous of Museum, Arms Place, 9, Lapresté
Restorer, has the honor of preventing the travellers that they will
be helpt at his house, or a head, or at choice.' The original may
usefully be given here, to shew how perplexed the host must have been
in his attempted translation: 'Au Rendez-vous du Musée, Place d'Armes,
9, Lapresté, Restaurant, a l'honneur de prévenir MM. les voyageurs,
qu'on est servi, chez lui, à la carte ou par tête, au choix.' At Rouen
an announcement is remarkable for the odd way of expressing 'London
Stout'--namely, 'Stoughtonlondon.' A bath-keeper at Basle informs his
English visitors that 'In this new erected establishment, which the
Ouner recommends best to all foreigners, are to have ordinary and
artful baths, russia and sulphury bagnios, pumpings, artful mineral
waters, gauze lemonads, fournished apartmens for patients.' A French
advertisement relating to a house to be let, with immediate possession,
takes this extraordinary form: 'Castle to praise, presently.' Those who
know the twofold meaning of the verb _louer_ in French will see how
this odd blunder arose. A dentist at Honfleur 'renders himself to the
habitations of these wich honor him with their confidence and executes
all wich concarns his profession with skill and vivacity.'
At Frankfort-on-the-Main, 'M. Reutlinger takes leave to recommande
his well-furnished magazin of all kind of travelling-luggage and
sadle-work.' Affixed to a pillar outside the Théâtre Français, some
years ago, was a bill or placard: 'Hardy Cook, living to the Louvre
on the West Gate under the Vestibule, old emplacement of late M.
Kolliker. He will serve you with list, and he has parlours and privates
rooms, receives Society, and has always some Shoueroute and Disters
of Cancall.' Inscrutable words these last, certainly. At Havre, local
regulations for the convenience of visitors are printed in various
languages; English people are informed that 'One arrangement can make
with the pilot for the walking with roars.' 'Pilot' for 'guide' is not
far amiss; but 'roars' as an English equivalent for 'ramparts' (if that
is meant) is odd enough; and if not, the enigma is just as formidable.
The much-used French _on_ evidently increased the difficulty of the
poor translator.
A Guide to Amsterdam was published in Holland, in English, some years
ago; professing to be written, edited, or translated by an Englishman.
Its style may be judged from the following specimen, relating to the
manners and customs of many of the inhabitants on Sundays and holidays:
'They go to walk outside the town gates; after this walk they hasten
to free public play gardens, where wine, thea, &c. is sold. Neither
the mobility remains idle at these entertainments. Every one invites
his damsel, and joyously they enter play gardens of a little less
brilliancy than the former. There, at the crying sound of an instrument
that rents the ear, accompanied by the delightful handle-organs and the
rustic triangle, their devoirs are paid to Terpsichore. Everywhere a
similitude of talents; the dancing outdoes not the music.'
A Dutch volume containing many views in the Netherlands, with
descriptions in three or four languages, claims credit for 'the
exactness as have observed in conforming our draughts to the
originals,' which (a hope is expressed) 'cannot fail to join us the
general applause.' Of one village we are told, 'That village was
renouned by the abandon of saulmons that were fiched there. That
village is situated in a territory that afford abandon of fruits and
corns.'
A small guide-book for English visitors to Milan cathedral is prefaced
by the statement that, 'In presenting to the learned and intelligent
publick this new and brief description of the cathedral of Milan, i
must apprise that i do not mean to emulate with the works already
existing of infinite merit for the notions they contain, and the
perspicuity with which they are exposed.'