From the Thames to the Tiber / or, My visit to Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice, Milan, Switzerland, etc
“Go, little book, God send the good passage, And specially let this be thy prayer: Unto them all that thee will read or hear, Where thou art wrong, after their help to call, Thee to correct in any part or all.”
CHAPTER I
London: Its teeming millions of population: Its commercial aspect: Leaving Victoria Station for New Haven: On the Boat: New found friends: Landing at Dieppe: Leaving for Paris: Rouen, its Cathedral, etc.
We had settled to have a holiday—not a mere pic-nic, not a week-end at Blackpool, or a tour of a few days in the Isle of Man—but a real first-class, out-and-out trip. Where then is it to be? Why, to Rome and back, came the reply. From St. Paul’s in London, the largest city in the world, to St. Peter’s in Rome, one of the great cities of the ancient world.
“To Rome!” my friends said in astonishment.
“Yes! to Rome.” There seems to be magic in the very word. Rome—The Eternal City. The city of the seven hills. The city of which St. Paul was proud to be a citizen. See Acts, chapter 22, verse 25. “Is it lawful for you to scourge a man that is a Roman, uncondemned?” verse 28. “Then the Chief Captain came and said unto him. Tell me, art thou a Roman?” He said, “Yes.”
Rome stands for power. Her proud eagles once swept their wings over almost the then known world. Rome stands for antiquity, greatness, wealth, splendour, conquest and colonization, liberty, law, self control, prowess, skill. But, alas! It also stands for cruelty, luxury, strife, war, humiliation, decay, decline.
This is the objective really of our holiday. Now it is settled, ways and means, and the route, etc., are but details. Packing! Well, I am a poor hand at packing. I think it must be a gift to be able to pack well. I think a good packer must be born, not made. If I pack, sure as fate, the things I want first are at the bottom of the trunk. My dear little wife, to whom I owe much for packing and general comfort during the tour, and, indeed, I owe to her well-kept journal, much that assists me to make this record of our holiday.
On the 25th September, 1907, we found ourselves en route for London, followed by the good wishes and prayers of loved ones left behind, also of the many friends we knew had kind thoughts of us. We reached London about 6 p.m., and were soon snug and comfortable in “The Manchester Hotel.” We had no time and no special wish just now to see London. London cannot be seen in a day or two. Its magnitude bewilders, having a population of about 7,000,000, and for its teeming millions, there is need of bread, milk, beef, clothes, work, etc. We cannot understand at a glance what it means. In London we have the largest breweries, distilleries, and sugar refineries in the Kingdom; also many metal manufacturers and machine makers, including: plate, jewellery, watches, brass works, and all kinds of tin and zinc works; large printing and publishing houses; also, as you know, large millinery and tailoring establishments; cabinet-making on a most extensive scale, leather-working, coopering, coach-building, ship-building, hat-making, extensive chemical works, soap manufacturing and dye works; also dock labourers, ’bus drivers, cab drivers, tram guards and drivers, railway men and engine drivers, policemen, postmen, ministers of religion, there being over 3,000 churches in this great city, and many other means of living besides the few I have mentioned. Then there are its hotels, as “The Manchester Hotel” where we are staying, “The Midland Grand,” “Grand Hotel,” Trafalgar Square, “The Victoria Hotel” in Northumberland Avenue. Many more offering accommodation to the tens of thousands of visitors to this great city from all lands. We cannot refrain from mentioning the religious aspect of the city. We have our noble Cathedral, St. Paul’s, always worth a visit, if only for its monuments and torn banners, and its choral service; then we have “Spurgeon’s Tabernacle”; “The City Temple,” where once ministered that mighty man of God, Dr. J. Parker; also Wesley’s Church; City Road West London Mission, and many others I cannot describe.
Its theatres on all hands, who claim their votaries by tens of thousands nightly. The underground electric railways give to the city traveller and visitor an idea of the vastness and importance of the City. However, it was no part of my intention when I began this record to describe London, so I will content myself with saying we only spent one night in the city on our outward journey.
Many of my readers will be quite familiar with the streets, shops, bazaars and churches of this great hive of human life, human industry, and human skill. A good night’s rest and we rose refreshed for our journey, now it is to Paris. We had very little difficulty in re-packing our valise and trunk, settling our account and calling to our rescue a porter. We were soon in train at Snow Hill for Victoria, arriving at this latter place in time to catch “The Continental” for New Haven and Dieppe. It is not an easy matter even with a porter to guide you, to find out amidst such a labyrinth of platforms and stair-cases to find the train you want, and to get a comfortable seat. We managed, however, ultimately to reach the right platform and to find a seat in a comfortable compartment. We noticed our fellow passengers, by label on their luggage, were also going to foreign fields and to Continental cities. The morning was a lovely autumn morning. As we steamed out of Victoria Station we got a sight of the lovely landscape, the morning sun was shining in great brilliance. We passed villages of importance, and towns in rapid succession. Lewes was a stopping place not far from New Haven. We did not stay long at this station, just long enough for the railway officials to satisfy themselves we were all furnished with tickets for the Continent. After leaving Lewes, we were in New Haven in about half-an-hour.
New Haven is about 56 miles from London. A pretty place, lying at the foot of the white chalk cliffs. It has a population of about 3,000. It is, however, an important place, as the mail packets for the cities of Europe leave here twice daily. Our train ran us very close up to the landing stage, and the securing our luggage and getting it conveyed from train to steamer was only the work of about ten minutes, and was managed without the least difficulty. The weather continued all we could desire, and it seemed quite clear we were going to have a calm sea and a pleasant voyage across channel. We got very nice seats on the boat; we found our fellow-passengers on the whole most agreeable, polite, and, indeed, friendly; were we not all on pleasure bent, and should we not now, on the wide ocean, show to others respect. We strolled the deck of our pretty little vessel, she was a beauty, and behaved so well, we had not the least fear of that terrible disease that afflicts so many who sail the seas, I mean what the French call mal-de-mer—“the sickness of the sea.” We had hardly lost sight of the white cliffs of dear, old England, when our thoughts went back to home, and to loved ones. Then we began to think of refreshments. We found a menu that filled us with hopefulness that an agreeable meal at least might be obtained. We went to the buffet and found we could get a real good English dinner. This we had and enjoyed it heartily; I considered it excellent, and my wife, who is a connoisseur in the cookery line, declared she was well satisfied.
A newly-married couple joined us. We found they were on their honeymoon. A very happy couple apparently. In our hearts we wished that their lives might be as smooth as the sea we were now crossing. We became quite friends before we got half way across the channel. I had my Kodak with me, so I must take a snap-shot or two of the happy pair; then I and my wife must submit to the same process. So the time passed pleasantly, and in about three hours we were landing on the shores of France at Dieppe.
Our little ship, as if in a hurry to serve us, was quickly up at the landing stage, and we were safe on shore with our baggage, en route for the Custom House. We soon found out we were in a foreign land, because a foreign tongue was spoken, and although I am able to parley vous un peu, I could not hold conversation with a Frenchman, he speaks so quickly. I, however, could ask a simple question in French and also give a simple answer to a question, and this was of immense value to me during this tour. Our trunks duly examined, and free, we had a short time to look round Dieppe.
On our strolling about a little, waiting for our train, we saw a little of this rather important French town and watering place. It has a population