Since I last wrote you at Moscow, I have travelled over one thousand
miles in Russia and Poland, by mail coach, private post, and lastly by
railroad from Warsaw to this place, having had but one upset, without
injury, and the breaking of an axle on another occasion, which obliged
me to take the common wagon of the country. These wagons are made
almost entirely of wood, with little iron, on low wheels, and very
light. There not being any seats, the only resource was to fill the
wagon with hay, to avoid the jolting. With a pair of good horses, and
sometimes four, on the full jump, and a rough peasant driver, one gets
over the road rapidly.
I have passed over large tracts of country entirely level, there
being no great elevations in central or western Russia--a vast deal
of uncultivated and thin soil--long distances made without signs of
habitation or life, and presenting a desert appearance--most parts of
the country thinly wooded; and it was gladdening to the eye to strike
a town or village, to obtain supplies, but particularly gratifying
to arrive in Poland, an old and better cultivated country, with more
evidence of civilization, and means to support life. The weather has
favored me much, being mild and dry, and the roads in good order.
On my arrival at Warsaw, on the banks of the Vistula, a city with
a population of one hundred and fifty thousand, I was struck with
its dull and sombre appearance, under the iron hand of despotic
rule--liberty of thought and speech being suppressed. Here I found
the Russian troops were marching out of the city, to take up winter
quarters, after a general review. They were composed of thirty-one
battalions of infantry, forty-six squadrons and eight divisions of
cavalry, twenty batteries of artillery--in all thirty-four thousand
men, ten thousand horses, and two hundred and twelve pieces of
cannon. It was a brilliant sight to see them on the move. The Russian
government is exceedingly jealous of its rights, and determined to
maintain its authority. There are three hundred thousand soldiers ready
to march to the frontier at a moment’s warning.
A signal telegraph is established from Warsaw to St. Petersburg,
but the people here know nothing of the events in Europe. A Warsaw
newspaper is a curiosity; it is about six inches square--a double sheet.
On passing the frontier, and coming to Cracow, I was questioned
particularly why I was going out of my route on my way to Berlin, as
my courier pass expressed; to which I replied I was ahead of time, and
wished to see Cracow in passing. The conversation of the officer was of
a nature to draw out my views, but I was on my guard. After which, as I
was obliged to pass the night there, he was extremely polite, and told
me the difficulty he had to obey orders in the visitation of luggage
and examination of papers; he was even obliged to take off newspapers
as envelopes from packages, to prevent the introduction of news from
the adjacent countries.
Europe is in a dreadful state, and as yet there are little signs of
conciliation or harmony. Germany with all its great and small kingdoms,
with over thirty princes, with its different races, religions, and
languages, is as difficult to amalgamate as vinegar, oil, and water,
and no man can predict the result.
The horrible massacre at Vienna, the revolution in Hungary, the hanging
of ministers, &c., have reached us, and you will see the accounts in
the papers. I have been, since February last, either among revolutions,
ahead of them, or after them, and have seen the effects produced, so
that I have become accustomed to them; but I hope soon to be out of the
way of European commotions, and as I have seen all the sights of the
Continent with very few exceptions, I shall take my departure for one
of the Ocean Isles where may be found some tranquillity, and a better
climate for the ensuing winter.
In approaching Cracow, which was formerly a free state or republic,
enjoying commercial trade, with a population of forty thousand,
it presents a beautiful view with its churches and spires, but on
entering it is found lifeless, with but little trade, and a miserable
population. It was usurped by Austria in the spring of 1846, after the
horrible massacre of the nobles by their own peasants, in Gallicia,
through Austrian intrigue, of which you are undoubtedly familiar. The
city is antique, and is remarkable for being the former residence of
the Polish kings, whose tombs are found in the old cathedral, which was
built in the fifteenth century, and which is adjoining the palace, and
situated upon a commanding eminence. The cathedral is perhaps richer
in treasures and costly gifts, dedicated by nobles, kings, and other
devotees, than any north of Italy. In the crypt under the pave of the
cathedral into which one descends by torches, are found the massive
copper coffins, gilded with gold, of all the Polish kings. Here is also
the sarcophagus of the great general, John Sobiesky, with his crown,
sceptre, and sword; the remains of Joseph Poniatowski, who fell at
Leipsig, and I well recollect the spot where he was lost, and where a
monument is erected; likewise the remains of Kosciusko, who is so well
known in our own country. They were brought here in 1817. About three
miles from the city I ascended a mound of earth one hundred and fifty
feet in height, which was raised to his memory by all classes of Poles,
who wrought four years in completing it, and even brought portions of
earth from the different battle-fields in which he was engaged.
Here is found an immense number of Jews who fled from Spanish
persecution in the middle ages, and were granted an asylum by Casimir
the Great. They have a fine opportunity here to traffic in exchanges,
as all the coins of Russia, Austria, Prussia, and Poland are known, and
here the traveller must make his exchanges. Men and women with bags in
their hands present themselves on the arrival of a stranger, and it was
my luck to fall into their hands, having Russian funds to exchange, and
it required some skill to accomplish it without being fleeced, as I was
surrounded by about twenty of them, and they hung together like a chain.
I was interested in passing through a portion of Gallicia to the
great Salt mines of Cracow. The country about here is beautiful and
picturesque. The town of Wieliczka contains a population of five
thousand, and is mostly undermined by the salt works. I met with an
exiled Pole in Cracow, who had recently returned from Paris, whom I
invited to join me, as he had never seen the mines, and who acted as
interpreter in the Polish language. We put on white frocks over our
clothes, and hired a number of boys to carry lamps and a supply of
torches to illuminate the subterranean vaults. We placed ourselves with
the guides in a sort of swing attached by cords to the main rope, and
descended to the first stage about two hundred feet. There are four
stories to the depth of about thirteen hundred feet. We then by the aid
of our lamps walked through the wide and airy galleries into several
halls and chambers, then crossed over bridges spanning salt lakes and
dived deeper down from one story to another by staircases. It is the
most extraordinary work in the world. Here are found one thousand
hands constantly employed by the Austrian Government. The mines have
been worked since the ninth century; and although one walks for miles
through these caverns, which undermine a whole city, passing through
galleries one thousand feet in length, and saloons one hundred feet in
height, still the supply is inexhaustible. There are immense saloons
with candelabra in glittering crystal salt; there is a Gothic church
ornamented with the full length figure of Christ upon the cross. Also
the statues of saints as large as life; and once a year in the presence
of all the miners mass is performed. One of the saloons was in the
form of a theatre, and was fitted up for the emperor of Russia when he
visited the mines and held a ball there. The illumination of these vast
subterraneous caves with torches, throwing the lights upon obelisks and
columns, with inscriptions dedicated to distinguished persons, produced
an effect indescribable. The rock is hard, and is cut and chiselled,
and even powder is employed in blasting it. It comes up in blocks of an
oval form, about two and a half feet in length, by immense windlasses,
driven by horse power, and is laden on wagons for the different markets
to be broken up when received. It is computed that four millions of
tons are taken out annually for the supply of the different governments
bordering on Austria.
1849.