George and his father, James Ingram, experimenting with chemical energy, had already discovered a galvanic element which enabled them to furnish electrical energy direct from coal and the oxygen of the air, but this important discovery was kept a secret. The chief object of George Ingram's visit abroad was to follow the footsteps of other great scientists and manufacturers to the edge or frontier of their discoveries and practical workings.
It was two o'clock that night before George could close his eyes, but promptly at 6:30 o'clock next morning he was ready for his bath and shave, and later he and the colonel ate the usual European breakfast of eggs, rolls, and coffee. The eight o'clock train was taken for the great works of Siemens Brothers & Co., Limited, which are located at Woolwich, down the Thames.
This firm, the pioneers of ship lighting by electricity, has already fitted out hundreds of vessels with electric lights. They also manufacture submarine and land telegraphs in vast quantities, having aided largely in enclosing the globe in a network of cables. All the Siemens brothers have shown much ability. Charles William was born at Lenthe, Hanover, in 1823, and has received high scientific honors. The world recognizes the valuable services that Dr. Siemens has rendered to the iron and steel trade by his important investigations and inventions.
Dr. Siemens, like Mr. Bessemer, labored to make iron and steel direct from the ores. By the invention of his regenerative gas furnace, which makes the high grade and uniform steel so desirable in the construction of ships, boilers, and all kinds of machines, Dr. Siemens has rendered signal service. This visit at Siemens Brothers & Co.'s works was of great interest, and many valuable ideas were gained.
Several days were next spent in Birmingham, and at the centers of steel making in northwest England. Birmingham is called the "Toy Shop of the World" for there almost everything is manufactured from a cambric needle to a cannon.
Colonel Harris and George Ingram studied the workings of the English "Saturday half-holiday," which employees earn by working an extra half-hour on the five previous days. A visit was made to the Tangye Bros. Engine Works at Soho, near Birmingham, which absorbed the engine works of Boulton and Watt. It was Boulton who said to Lord Palmerston visiting Soho, "Sir, we have here for sale what subjects of his Majesty most seek, viz., Power."
The Tangyes employ thousands of men, manufacturing engines and other products. Steam engines of all sizes, in enormous quantities are stored, ready at a moment's notice to be shipped broadcast. It was the invention of the powerful Tangye jack-screw that finally enabled the famous engineer Brunel to launch his "Great Eastern" steamship which he had built on the Thames, and which had settled on her keel.
Today the Tangye Brothers are fond of saying, "We launched the 'Great Eastern,' and the 'Great Eastern' launched us." One of the Tangye Brothers took the two Americans through James Watt's old home, and into his famous garret, where Watt invented the parallel motion and other parts of the steam engine. So important were Watt's engine inventions that he alone should have the honor of inventing the modern engine which has so elevated the race.
George was greatly interested in what the Tangye Brothers were doing for their employees. Instructive lectures by capable men were given weekly to their workmen, while they ate their dinners. Medical aid was furnished free, and in many ways practical assistance was rendered their working force.
After a most interesting journey among the steel firms, including Bocklow & Vaughn of Middleborough, John Brown at Sheffield, and others, Reuben Harris and George crossed over into busy Belgium, and thence they journeyed via historic Cologne to Westphalia, Germany. Here are some of the most productive coal measures on the earth, which extend eastward from the Rhine for over thirty miles, and here one wonders at the dense network of railways and manufacturing establishments, unparalleled in Germany.
At Essen are the far-famed Krupp Works, one of the greatest manufacturing firms on the globe. These works are the outgrowth of a small old forge, driven by water power, and established in 1810 by Frederick Krupp. His short life was a hard struggle, but he discovered the secret of making cast-steel, and died in 1828. Before his death, however, he revealed his valuable secret to his son Alfred, then only 14 years of age. After many years of severe application, Alfred Krupp's first great triumph came in 1851 at the London World's Fair, where he received the highest medal. At the Paris Exposition of 1855, as well as at Munich the year before, he also won gold medals.
Abundant orders now flowed in for his breech-loading, cast-steel cannons. In severe tests which followed, the famous Woolwich guns were driven from the field. The Krupp guns won great victories over the French cannon at Sedan, which was an artillery duel. At Gravelotte and Metz the Krupp guns surpassed all others in range, accuracy, and penetrating power, and Herr Alfred Krupp became the "Cannon King" of Europe. Americans remember well his gigantic steel breech-loading guns at the expositions held in Philadelphia, and Chicago.
Alfred Krupp, however, delighted more in improving the condition of his army of employees. He provided for them miles of roomy, healthful homes. He formed a commissariat, where his employees could secure at cost price all the necessaries of life. He also established schools where the children of his employees could receive education if desired in technical, industrial, commercial, and mechanical pursuits, and in special and classical courses as well. He devised a "Sick and Pension Fund," for disabled workmen, which scheme Emperor William II. has made a law of the German Empire. He likewise created life insurance companies, and widow and orphan funds. The golden rule has been Alfred Krupp's guiding star. He was always kind and considerate, and never dictatorial.
When asked to accept a title, he answered, "No, I want no title further than the name of Krupp." Alfred Krupp died July 14, 1887, in the 75th year of his age. His request was that his funeral should take place, not from his palatial mansion, but in the little cottage within the works, where he was born, which is to-day an object of great reverence to the 25,000 workmen who earn their daily bread in the vast Krupp foundries.
Alfred Krupp lived to see Essen, his native village, grow from a population of 4,000 to a busy city of 70,000, where annually hundreds of engines and steam hammers produce thousands of tons of steel castings and forgings. Alfred Krupp built his own monument in the vast mills and benevolences of Essen, a monument more useful and enduring than marble or bronze. His son Frederick Alfred Krupp, his successor, married the beautiful Baroness Margarette von Ende. Colonel Harris and George visited other great works in Europe, and finally started to rejoin their friends in Paris.
The distance is two hours from London to Dover. Half-way is Gad's Hill, famous as the residence of the late Charles Dickens. Further on is Canterbury, which is celebrated as the stronghold of Kentishmen and the first English Christian city. Its prime attraction of course is its fine cathedral, which in 1170 was the scene of Becket's murder.
Dover on the English Channel lies in a deep valley surrounded by high chalk hills. On one of these, which is strongly fortified, may be seen evidences of Norman, Saxon, and Roman works.
Every morning and evening the royal mail steamers leave Dover for Calais. The channel ride of twenty-one miles was made by the Harrises without the dreadedmal de mer. In the railway restaurant at Calais, Lucille volunteered to order for the party, but she soon learned, much to the amusement of her friends, that the French learned in Boston is not successful at first in France.
The express to Paris is through Boulogne, an important sea town of fifty-thousand inhabitants, which combines much English comfort with French taste. From there hundreds of fishing boats extend their voyages every season to the Scotch coast and even to far-off Iceland.
The scenery in the fertile valley of the Somme is beautiful. The route lies through Amiens, a large city of textile industries, thence across the Arve; the Harrises reached the station of the Northern Railway, in the Place Roubaix, in northern Paris as the sun faded in the west.
Carriages were taken for the Grand Hotel, Boulevard des Capucines, near the new opera house, which is centrally located, and offers to travelers every comfort. The carriages enter a court, made inviting by fountains, flowers, and electric light.
The first day or evening in Paris is bewildering. Early in the morning the Harrises drove along the inner and the outer boulevards that encircle Paris. Many miles of fine boulevards were built under Napoleon III. Most from the Madeleine to the July Column are flanked with massive limestone buildings, palatial mansions, and glittering shops, the architecture of which is often uniform, and balconies are frequently built with each story. Early every morning the asphalt and other pavements are washed. At midday a busy throng crowds all the main streets.
Parisians favor residence in flats, and they enjoy immensely their outdoor methods of living. At sundown the wide walks in front of brilliant cafés are crowded with well dressed men and women, who seek rest and refreshment in sipping coffee, wine, or absynthe, scanning the papers for bits of social or political news, and discussing the latest fad or sensation of the day. The English hurry but the French rarely.
Paris under electric light is indeed a fairyland. The boulevards are brilliant and the scenes most animating. Everybody is courteous, and all seen bent on a pleasurable time. Cafés, shops, and places of entertainment are very inviting, and you easily forget to note the passage of time. Midnight even overtakes you before you are aware of the lateness of the hour. This is true, if you chance to visit, as did the Harris party, some characteristic phases of Parisian life.
Near the east end of the Champs-Elysées, under the gas light and beneath the trees, they found open-air theaters, concerts, crowded cafes, and pretty booths supplied with sweets and drinks. Every afternoon if the weather is favorable, tastefully dressed children appear in charge of nursemaids in white caps and aprons, and together they make picturesque groups in the shade of elm and lime trees.
At breakfast, Leo proposed a study of Paris, as seen from the Arc de Triomphe de l'Etoile, so named from the star formed by a dozen avenues which radiate from it. The location is at the west end of the Avenue des Champs-Elysées. This monument is one of the finest ever built by any nation for its defenders. It is 160 feet in height, 145 in width, was begun in 1806 by Napoleon and completed thirty years afterwards by Louis Philippe. Figures and reliefs on the arch represent important events in Napoleon's campaigns. Arriving at the arch, Leo led the way up a spiral staircase, 261 steps to the platform above which commands fine views of Paris.
The Champs-Elysées, a boulevard one thousand feet in width, extends east over a mile from the monument of the Place de la Concord. Handsome buildings flank the sides, and much of the open space is shaded with elm and lime trees. Grand statues, fountains, and flowers add their charm. Between three and five o'clock every pleasant afternoon this magnificent avenue becomes the most fashionable promenade in the world. Here you will behold the elite in attendance at Vanity Fair; many are riding in elegant equipages, many on horseback, and almost countless numbers on foot.
The popular drive is out the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne, 320 feet in width, to the Bois de Boulogne, a beautiful park of 2250 acres, containing several lakes and fringed on the west side by the River Seine. In the southwest part of this park is located the Hippodrome de Longchamp, which is the principal race-course near Paris, where races attract vast crowds, especially when the French Derby or the Grand Prix of twenty thousand dollars is competed for early in June.
The Harrises standing on the monument, looked eastward, and Leo pointed out the River Seine shooting beneath more than a score of beautiful stone and iron bridges, and making a bold curve of seven miles through Paris. Then the Seine flows like a ribbon of silver in a northwesterly direction into the English Channel. On the right bank is seen the Palais du Trocadero of oriental style, which was used for the International Exposition of 1878. On the left bank stands the Palais du Luxembourg, rich in modern French art, the Hotel des Invalides, where rests Napoleon, and the Church of St. Genevieve, or the Pantheon, where Victor Hugo is buried.
Beyond the Place de la Concord are the Royal Gardens of the Tuileries, where Josephine and Eugenie walked among classic statues, vases, fountains and flowers; the Louvre filled with priceless art treasures, the beautiful Hotel de Ville or city-hall, majestic Notre Dame, and the graceful Column of July. Paris is truly an earthly Paradise. For centuries it has been the residence of French rulers, and the mecca of her pleasure loving citizens. Fire, famine, foreign invasion, civil war, and pestilence have often swept over this, the fairest of cities, yet from each affliction, Phoenix-like, Paris has risen brighter and gayer than ever.
Gertrude, May, and Lucille were charmed with the fair vision before them, and were anxious to leave the Arch of Triumph and become a part of the gay city. The carriages drove back to the Place de la Concord, one of the finest open places in Europe. Around this place the chief cities of France are represented by eight large stone figures. That of Strasburg the French keep in mourning. In the center stands the Obelisk of Luxor, of reddish granite, which was brought at great expense from Egypt and tells of Rameses II. and his successor. Other ornaments are twenty rostral columns, bearing twin burners. On grand occasions this place and the avenue are illuminated by thirty thousand gas lights.
In the Place de la Concord the guillotine did its terrible work in the months between January 21st, 1793, and May 3rd, 1795, when thousands of Royalists and Republicans perished. Two enormous fountains adorned with Tritons, Nereids, and Dolphins beautify the court. No wonder the brilliant writer Chateaubriand objected to the erection here of these fountains, observing that all the water in the world could not remove the blood stains which sullied the spot.
How beautiful the vista up the broad and short Rue Royale, which conducts to the classic Madeleine! Alfonso was entranced with the beauty of this rare temple, which was begun and finally dedicated as a church, though Napoleon earnestly hoped to complete it as a temple of glory for his old soldiers. Its cost was nearly three million dollars. A colonnade of fifty-two huge fluted Corinthian columns and above them a rich frieze surround the church. The approach is by a score and more of stone steps and through enormous bronze doors on which the Ten Commandments are illustrated.
Entering the Madeleine, one sees an interior richly adorned, floors of marble, and lofty columns supporting a three-domed roof, through which light enters. On either side are six confessionals of oak and gilt, where prince and peasant alike confess their sins. Beyond is the altar of spotless marble. How beautiful the group of white figures, which represents Madeleine forgiven, and borne above on angels' wings! This artistic group cost thirty thousand dollars.
On Sunday morning Leo and his friends came to the Madeleine which is the metropolitan church of Paris. Here every Sunday exquisite music is rendered, and here come the elite to worship and to add liberal gifts. It is a broad policy that no Catholic Church on the globe, not even splendid St. Peter's of Rome, is considered too good for rich and poor of all nationalities to occupy together for the worship of the Master.
All the Parisian churches are crowded on Sunday mornings, but Sunday afternoons are used as holidays, and all kinds of vehicles and trains are burdened with well dressed people in pursuit of pleasure.
Traveling by omnibus and tramway in Paris is made as convenient to the public as possible; nobody is permitted to ride without a seat, and there are frequent waiting stations under cover. This is as it should be. Nearly a hundred lines of omnibuses and tramways in Paris intersect each other in every direction. Inside the fares are six cents, outside three cents. A single fare allows of a transfer from one line to another. Railways surround Paris, thus enabling the public to reach easily the many pretty suburbs and villages.
Both Mrs. Harris and Gertrude on their return to the Grand Hotel were glad to find letters from the men they loved. George wrote Gertrude that he was amazed at the enormous capacity of the manufacturing plants which he and Colonel Harris were visiting; that both labor and capital were much cheaper than in America. His closing words were, "Learn all you can, darling, I shall soon come to claim you."
Gertrude had read of the laundries on the Seine, so she left the hotel early with her mother and Alfonso to see them, while Leo, Lucille, and May went to study contemporaneous French masterpieces in the Luxembourg palace and gallery. The public wash houses on the Seine are large floating structures with glass roofs, steaming boilers, and rows of tubs foaming with suds. Hard at work, stand hundreds of strong and bare armed women, who scrub and wring their linen, while they sing and reply to the banter of passing bargee or canotier.
If the sun is shining and the water is clear, the blue cotton dresses of the women contrast prettily with white linen and bare arms busily employed. Though they earn but a pittance, about five cents an hour, yet they are very independent; mutual assistance is their controlling creed, and few, if any, honor more loyally the republican principle of liberty, equality and fraternity. The women seemed to do all the hard work, while the men in snowy shirts and blue cotton trousers, with scarlet girdles about their waists, pushed deftly to and fro the hot flat or box irons over white starched linen.
Each ironer has a bit of wax, which he passes over the hot iron when he comes to the front, the collar, or the wrist-bands, and he boasts that he can goffer a frill or "bring up" a pattern of lace better than a Chinaman.
Alfonso and his party drove along the handsome Rue de Rivoli, with its half-mile of arcades, attractive shops, and hotels of high grade, and up the Rue Castiglione, which leads to the Place Vendome. Here in one of a hundred open places in Paris rises the Column Vendome in imitation of Trajan's column in Rome. The inscription records that it is to commemorate Napoleon's victories in 1805 over the Austrians and Russians. On the pedestal are reliefs which represent the uniforms and weapons of the conquered armies. The memorable scenes, from the breaking of camp at Boulogne down to the Battle of Austerlitz, are shown on a broad bronze band that winds spirally up to the capital, and the shaft is surmounted by a bronze statue of Napoleon in his imperial robes.
Fortunately Alfonso's carriage overtook Leo's party, and they visited together the pretty arcades and gardens of the Palais Royal. In the open courts are trees, flowers, fountains, and statues, and on the four sides are inviting cafés and shops which display tempting jewelry and other beautiful articles. On summer evenings a military band plays here. Returning, the ladies stepped into the Grand Magasin du Louvre. At a buffet, refreshments were gratis, and everywhere were crowds, who evidently appreciated the great variety of materials for ladies' dresses, the fine cloths, latest novelties, exquisite laces, etc. The ladies planned to return here, and to make a visit to the famous Au Bon Marche, where cheap prices always prevail. Most of the afternoon was spent in the Louvre, a vast palace of art, and the evening at the Theatre Français, the ceiling of which represents France, bestowing laurels upon her three great children, Molière, Corneille, and Racine. The Theatre Français occupies the highest rank. Its plays are usually of a high class, and the acting is admirable. The government grants this theatre an annual subsidy of about fifty thousand dollars.
Early next morning, the Harrises took carriages to the Halles Centrales, or union markets. These markets consist of ten pavilions intersected by streets. There are twenty-five hundred stalls which cover twenty-two acres, and cost fifteen million dollars. Under the markets are twelve hundred cellars for storage. The sales to wholesale dealers are made by auction early in the day, and they average about a hundred thousand dollars. Then the retail traffic begins. The supplies, some of which come from great distances along the Mediterranean, include meat, fish, poultry, game, oysters, vegetables, fruit, flowers, butters, cream cheese, etc. Great throngs of people, mostly in blue dresses and blouses, with baskets and bundles constantly surge past you. The whole scene is enjoyable. Everything they offer is fresh, and the prices usually are reasonable. When you make a purchase, you are made to feel that you have conferred a favor and are repeatedly thanked for it.
The few days that followed in Paris were days of rest, or were spent in planning for the future. The art galleries and the shops on the boulevards were repeatedly visited, theaters and rides were enjoyed, and on Friday morning, the ladies went to the railway station to take leave of Alfonso and Leo, who left Paris for the study of art in the Netherlands. Colonel Harris and George Ingram were expected to arrive in Paris on Saturday evening.
Reluctantly Alfonso and Leo left Lucille and May in Paris. Both were well educated and beautiful women. It is possible that Alfonso might have loved May Ingram had he been thrown more into her company, and so known her better in early life, but the Harrises and Ingrams rarely met each other in society. As for Leo, he loved Lucille, but she had erected an impassable barrier in her utterance on the steamer, "First love or none."
Leo in a thousand ways had been kind to her, because he hoped eventually to win her favor, and possibly because he fully appreciated the value of money. Fortunes in Europe are not so easily made, but once won, the rich of the old world as a rule husband their resources better then they of the new world. On the whole Alfonso and Leo were glad to cut loose from society obligations and be free to absorb what generations of art development in the Netherlands had to offer.
Leaving Paris they took the express via Rheims for Brussels. Entering this beautiful capital of the Belgians in the northern part of the city, they took a cab that drove past the Botanic Garden down the Rue Royale to the Hotel Bellevue which is near the Royal Palace and overlooks a park, embellished with sculptures, trees, flowers, and smooth lawns. One of the most enjoyable and profitable things for tourists to do in their travels is to climb at least one tower or height, as the views and correct information thus obtained will cling longest to the memory.
Brussels is Paris in miniature. The royal palace and park may be compared to the Tuileries. The beautiful drive down the Boulevard de Waterloo and up Avenue Louise leads directly to the Bois de la Cambre, a lovely forest of four hundred and fifty acres, which resembles the Bois de Boulogne of Paris. Nearly six miles of old and new boulevards encircle Brussels, passing through the upper and lower portions of the city. The pleasing variety of some of the more handsome buildings is due to the competition for large premiums offered for the finest façades. The resemblance of Brussels to Paris is perhaps more apparent in the cafés, shops, and public amusements along the busy boulevards. West of the Royal Palace is the picture gallery owned by the state, and by judicious and repeated purchases, the collection of pictures is considered superior to that of the famous gallery in Antwerp. In this gallery the two young artists spent several pleasant half-days comparing the early Flemish and Dutch schools. Especially did they study portrait work by Rubens, Frans Hals, and Van der Helst. All the work by the blacksmith artist Quinten Matsys in color or iron proved of great interest to the young Americans.
Finally Leo, who knew much of the old masters of Europe, took Alfonso to see the Musee Wiertz, which contains all the works of a highly gifted and eccentric master. In a kind of distemper Wiertz painted Napoleon in the Infernal Region, Vision of a Beheaded Man, A Suicide, The Last Cannon, Curiosity, and Contest of Good and Evil, Hunger, Madness and Crime, etc. As Brussels is located near the center of Belgium, the city is very convenient to several cities that contain many works attractive to painters and architects.
On arrival at Antwerp Alfonso and Leo rode to one of the stately cathedrals, near which a military band was playing. Before the church stood a bronze statue of Peter Paul Rubens. The scrolls and books, which lie on the pedestal, with brush, palette, and hat, are allusions to the varied pursuits of Rubens as diplomatist, statesman, and painter. The two young artists hastened into the cathedral to see Rubens's famous pictures, The Descent from the Cross, and The Assumption. His conception and arrangement were admirable, his drawing carefully done, and his coloring harmonious and masterly.
Rubens, the prince of Flemish painters, was knighted. He was handsome and amiable, and his celebrity as an artist procured for him the friendship and patronage of princes and men of distinction throughout Europe.
Not far from the cathedral the young artists came to the museum, in front of which rises a statue to Van Dyck, pupil of Rubens. "Here, Alfonso," said Leo, "is encouragement for you, for Van Dyck like yourself was the son of a wealthy man or merchant of Antwerp. He was educated in Italy, where he executed several fine portraits which I saw in Genoa as I journeyed to Paris." Charles I. of England appointed Van Dyck court-painter and knighted him. Van Dyck's ambition was to excel in historical works, but the demand upon him for portraits never left him much leisure for other subjects. How often "man proposes, but God disposes."
Alfonso and Leo reached Dort or Dordrecht, which in the middle ages was the most powerful and wealthy commercial city in Holland. Huge rafts float down from the German forests, and at Dordrecht the logs are sawed by the many windmills. The Dutch province of Zealand is formed by nine large islands on the coast of the North Sea, and it has for its heraldic emblem a swimming lion with a mottoLuctor et Emergo.
Most of the province, which is created by the alluvial deposits of the Scheldt, is below the sea-level, and is protected against the encroachments of the sea by vast embankments of an aggregate length of 300 miles. Willows are planted along the dykes, the annual repairs of which cost $425,000. An old proverb says, "God made the land, we Dutch made the sea."
This fertile soil produces abundant crops of wheat and other grain. Near Dort is a vast reed-forest, covering more than 100 islands, which is also called, "Verdronken land," drowned land. This area of forty square miles, once a smiling agricultural tract, was totally inundated on the 18th of November, 1421. Seventy-two thriving market towns and villages were destroyed, and 100,000 persons perished. Leo made a sketch of the tower of Huis Merwede, the solitary and only relic of this desolate scene.
The two artists visited Rotterdam, the second commercial city in Holland, which is fourteen miles from the North Sea and on the right bank of the Maas. An attractive quay a mile in length is the arriving and starting point for over 100 steamboats that connect Rotterdam with Dutch towns, the Rhine, England, France, Russia, and the Mediterranean.
Alfonso and Leo studied the collection of portraits at Boyman's Museum, and sketched in the River Park the happy people who were grouped under trees, by the fish ponds, and along the grassy expanses. Alfonso bought a photograph of the illustrious Erasmus. It is about ten miles to Delft, once celebrated for its pottery and porcelain, a city to-day of 25,000 inhabitants. Here on the 10th of July, 1584, William of Orange, Founder of Dutch independence, was shot by an assassin to secure the price set on William's head by Farnese.
Our two artists visited a church in Delft to see the marble monument to the memory of the Prince of Orange, which was inscribed "Prince William, the Father of the Fatherland." Not far is Delft Haven which Americans love to visit, and where the pious John Robinson blessed a brave little band as it set sail to plant in a new world the tree of Liberty.
At length the artists reached The Hague, which for centuries has been the favorite residence of the Dutch princes, and to-day is occupied by the court, nobles, and diplomatists. No town in Holland possesses so many broad and handsome streets, lofty and substantial blocks, and spacious squares as The Hague.
Alfonso and Leo hastened to Scheveningen, three miles west of The Hague, on the breezy and sandy shores of the North Sea, a clean fishing village of neat brick houses sheltered from the sea by a lofty sand dune. Here bathing wagons are drawn by a strong horse into the ocean, where the bather can take his cool plunge. Scheveningen possesses a hundred fishing boats. The fishermen have an independent spirit and wear quaint dress. A public crier announces the arrival of their cargoes, which are sold at auction on the beach, often affording picturesque and amusing scenes, sketches of which were made. The luminous appearance of the sea caused by innumerable mollusca affords great pleasure to visitors, twenty thousand of whom every year frequent this fashionable sea-bathing resort.
The second evening after the artists' arrival at Scheveningen, as they sauntered along on the brick-paved terrace in sight of white sails and setting sun, Alfonso was agreeably surprised to meet in company with her mother, Christine de Ruyter, a young artist, whose acquaintance he had made in the Louvre at Paris.
Christine's father, prominent for a long time in the vessel trade, had recently died, leaving a fortune to his wife and two daughters, one of whom, Fredrika was already married. They were descended from the famous Admiral de Ruyter, who in 1673 defeated the united fleets of France and England off the coast of Scheveningen, which fact added much of interest to their annual visit to this resort. While Leo talked with the mother, Alfonso listened to Christine, as she told much about the historic family with which she was connected, and in return she learned somewhat of young Harris's family and their visit to Europe.
Christine, who was about Alfonso's age, had fair complexion, light hair, and soft blue eyes. Her beauty added refinement that education and wide travel usually furnish.
It was seen in Alfonso's face and in his marked deference that Christine filled his ideal of a beautiful woman. Christine and her mother and the young artists were registered at the Hotel de Orange, so of necessity they were thrown into each other's company. They drove to The Hague, compared the statues of William of Orange with each other; rode along the elegant streets, south through the Zoological and Botanical Gardens, through the park, and to the drill grounds. A half-day was spent in visiting the "House in the Woods," a Royal Villa, one and one-half miles northeast of The Hague. This palace is beautifully decorated, particularly the Orange Salon, which was painted by artists of the school of Rubens.
Alfonso and Leo enjoyed their visits to the celebrated picture gallery, which contains among many Dutch paintings the famous pictures by Paul Potter and Rembrandt. Paul Potter's Bull is deservedly popular. This picture was once carried off to Paris, and there ranked high in the Louvre, and later the Dutch offered 60,000 florins to Napoleon for its restoration.
Christine, who was well conversant with art matters, knew the location and artistic value of each painting and guided the young Americans to works by Van Dyck, Rubens, the Tenniers, Holbein, and others. She was proud of a terra-cotta head of her ancestor, Admiral de Ruyter. The party soon reached Rembrandt's celebrated "School of Anatomy," originally painted for the Amsterdam Guild of Surgeons. Tulp is in black coat with lace collar and broad-brimmed soft hat, dissecting a sinew of the arm of the corpse before him. He is explaining, with gesture of his left hand, his theory to a group of Amsterdam surgeons. No painter ever before succeeded in so riveting the attention of spectators in the presence of death. The listeners appear altogether unconscious of the pallid corpse that lies before them on the dissecting table.
Invited by Christine's mother, the young artists accompanied the De Ruyters to Amsterdam, the commercial capital of Holland, with 300,000 inhabitants. They live on ninety islands formed by intersecting canals, which are crossed by three hundred bridges. The buildings rest on foundations of piles, or trees, which fact gave rise to Erasmus's jest, that he knew a city where the people dwelt on tops of trees, like rooks.
Alfonso took Leo into the suburbs to see diamond polishing. The machinery is run by steam, and the work is done largely by Portuguese Jews. These precious stones are cut or sawed through by means of wires covered with diamond dust, and the gems are polished by holding them against rapidly revolving iron disks moistened with a mixture of diamond dust and oil.
Christine's people lived in a red brick mansion, the gable of which contained a portrait in relief of Admiral de Ruyter, and fronted a shaded street on a canal. Here the American artists were handsomely entertained. They were driven to the picture galleries and the palace or town-hall in the Dam Square, where Louis Napoleon and Hortense once resided. From the tower which terminates in a gilded ship the artists obtained fine views of Northern Holland. Christine pointed out the Exchange and other objects of interest in the city, which abounds in narrow streets and broad canals, the latter lined with fine shade trees. Many of the tall, narrow houses have red tile roofs, quaint fork-chimneys, and they stand with gables to the canals. The docks show a forest of masts.
The environs of the city are covered with gardens; trees adorn the roads, while poplars and willows cross or divide the fields, which are studded with windmills and distant spires, and everywhere are seen fertile corps, black and white cattle, and little boats creeping slowly along the canals.
A Hollander's wealth is often estimated by his windmills. If asked, "How rich?" The reply comes, "Oh, he is worth ten or twelve windmills." Holland seems alive with immense windmills. They grind corn, they saw wood, they pulverize rocks, and they are yoked to the inconstant winds and forced to contend with the water, the great enemy of the Dutch. They constantly pump water from the marshes into canals, and so prevent the inundation of the inhabitants. The Hollander furnishes good illustration of the practical value of Emerson's words, "Borrow the strength of the elements. Hitch your wagon to a star, and see the chores done by the gods themselves."
To the west are seen the church spires of Haarlem, and its long canal, which like a silver thread ties it to Amsterdam. To the east the towers of Utrecht are visible, and to the north glitter in the morning sun the red roofs of Zaandam and Alkmaar.
Far away stretched the waters of the Zuider Zee, which Holland plans to reclaim by an enbankment from the extreme cape of North Holland, to the Friesland coast, so as to shut out the ocean, and thereby acquire 750,000 square miles of new land; a whole province. At present 3,000 persons and 15,000 vessels are employed in the Zuider Zee fisheries, the revenues of which average $850,000 a year. It is proposed to furnish equivalents to satisfy these fishermen. It is estimated that this wonderful engineering feat will extend over 33 years and cost $131,250,000.
Christine now conducted her artist friends out of the Palace and over to the Rijks Museum to see Rembrandt's largest and best work, his "Night Watch." It is on the right as you enter, covering the side of the room. It represents a company of arquebusiers, energetically emerging from their Guild House on the Singel. The light and shade of the Night Watch is so treated as to form a most effective dramatic scene, which, since its creation, in 1642, has been enthusiastically admired by all art connoisseurs.
Rembrandt was the son of a miller, and his studio was in his father's wind-mill, where light came in at a single narrow window. By close observation he became master of light and shade, and excelled in vigor and realism. At $50 a year he taught pupils who flocked to him from all parts of Europe, but, like too many possessed of fine genius, he died in poverty. Later, London paid $25,000 for a single one of his six hundred and forty paintings. The Dutch painters put on canvas the everyday home-life and manners of their people, while the Flemish represented more the religious life of the lower Netherlands.
These journeys in Belgium gave Alfonso and Leo enlarged ideas as to the possibilities of portrait painting. In Alma Tadema, of Dutch descent, and Millais they saw modern examples of wonderful success, which made clear to them that the high art of portrait painting once acquired, both fame and fortune are sure to follow.
Christine de Ruyter had taken lessons of the best masters in Holland, Italy, and France. Few, if any women artists of her age, equalled or excelled her. Her conversations on art in the Netherlands charmed her two artist friends. She said, "The works of art of the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries in the Netherlands seemed to grow out of the very soil of the low countries. Our old artists revelled in the varied costumes and manifold types that thronged the cities of the Hanseatic League. The artist's imagination was fascinated by the wealth of color he saw on sturdy laborers, on weather-beaten mariners, burly citizens, and sagacious traders.
"Rubens delighted often in a concentrated light, and was master of artistic material along the whole range. He painted well portraits, landscapes, battles of heroes, gallant love-making of the noble, and the coarse pleasures of the vulgar. Nearly a thousand pictures bear the name of Rubens.
"The artistic labor of Frans Hals of Haarlem extended over half a century. He possessed the utmost vivacity of conception, purity of color, and breadth of execution, as shown in his latest works, and so well did he handle his brush that drawing seems almost lost in a maze of color tone. The throng of genre painters, who have secured for Dutch art its greatest triumph, are well nigh innumerable."
Christine was very fond of flower-pieces, and had painted lovely marguerites on Gertrude's white dress, in Alfonso's full length picture of his sister, which he was soon to carry to Paris as his wedding present.
Leo and Alfonso much wished to extend their journey north to Copenhagen and Stockholm, the "Venice of the North," but letters urging a speedy return to the marriage of George and Gertrude in Paris, forced the two artists to shorten their journey, say good-bye to their kind friends of Amsterdam, and hasten back to Paris, taking portraits of their own skill as wedding gifts.
Friday morning, Alfonso and Leo were missed at the table, and during the day as guides. Early every day while in Paris, Alfonso had bouquets of fresh flowers sent to the rooms of his mother, sisters, and May Ingram. After his departure the flowers did not come, so Gertrude and May before breakfast walked down the boulevard to the flower show, near the Madeleine, where twice a week are gathered many flower carts in charge of courteous peasant women. The flowers of Paris are usually cheap. A franc, eighteen cents, buys a bunch of pansies, or roses in bud or full bloom, or marguerites. The latter are similar to the English ox-eyed daisy, a favorite flower with the French, also with Gertrude, who often pinned a bunch on May Ingram. In mid-winter Parisian gardeners delight in forcing thousands of white lilac blossoms, which are sold in European capitals for holiday gifts.
Gertrude and May hurried back to the hotel as happy as the birds in the trees of the boulevard. When Gertrude reached her mother, a telegram was given her from George which read:
City of Brussels.Gertrude,—We expect to arrive in Paris Saturday evening 6 o'clock. Alfonso and Leo here. All well. Grand trip. Love to all.George
City of Brussels.
Gertrude,—
We expect to arrive in Paris Saturday evening 6 o'clock. Alfonso and Leo here. All well. Grand trip. Love to all.
George
Mrs. Harris and her young ladies planned to give most of the day to the purchase of Gertrude's trousseau and other needed articles. May Ingram thought it was "just lovely" to be with Gertrude in Paris, and help her select the wedding outfit. Earlier than usual on Friday morning the Harrises left the hotel. All four women were somewhat excited, as Mrs. Harris and Gertrude led the way, Lucille and May following, to M. Worth's establishment, located at Rue de la Paix 7.
Lucille said, "It is strange indeed that, in view of the French ridicule made of the English on account of their lack of taste in dress, the best dressmakers in Paris should be Englishmen."
Chief among all the Parisian dressmakers is Charles Frederick Worth, who was born in 1825, at Bourne, Lincolnshire. He came to Paris in 1858, and opened business with fifty employees combining the selling of fine dress material and the making of it. Worth now employs twelve hundred persons, and turns out annually over six thousand dresses and nearly four thousand cloaks; his sons ably assist him.
Rare fabrics and designs in silk and other choice material are woven, and artistic ornaments are made especially for M. Worth. Paris, as the center of fashion, is greatly indebted to him, who gained in his line world-wide fame, and for nearly half a century he has been universally recognized by his competitors and the fair sex as master of his art. Kingdoms, empires, republics, and cabinets in swift succession followed each other, but the establishment of M. Worth maintained its proud position against all changes and rivals. He was helped to the highest pedestal of dictator of fashions by Mme. de Pourtales and Princess Pauline Metternich, both of whom possessed a keen sense of the fitness of texture, color, and cut, and with delicate hands could tone and modify till perfection was reached. The former introduced M. Worth to Empress Eugenie, for whom, and for the ladies of whose court, he designed state, dinner, and fancy costumes.
That M. Worth possessed rare artistic taste aside from dressmaking is evidenced in the beauty of his rural home at Suresnes on the Seine, seven and a half miles from Paris. It is a superb work of harmony and is like a charming mosaic, every piece fitting into every other piece. He was his own architect, designer, upholsterer, and gardener. His villa lies beneath Mt. Valerien, one of the finest sites near Paris, and the outlook on the Seine, the Bois de Boulogne, and Paris, is a dream of beauty.
Hurriedly passing down the Rue de la Paix, the stately Column Vendome in the vista, the Harris party entered M. Worth's establishment, to which women, from actress to empress, make pilgrimages from the end of the world.
What a medley of people were already assembled! English duchesses, Russian princesses, Austrians, Spanish and Levantine aristocracy; wives and daughters of American railroad kings, of oil magnates, and of coal barons; brunette beauties from India, Japan, South America, and even fair Australians, all unconsciously assuming an air of ecstasy as they revelled in the fabric and fashion of dress; and stalking among them, that presiding genius, M. Worth, who in his mitre-shaped cap of black velvet, and half mantle or robe, strikingly resembled the great painter Hogarth.
Mrs. Harris sent forward her letter of introduction from her husband's New York banker, and soon she and her friends were ushered into the presence of M. Worth himself. He seemed very gracious, asking about several good friends of his in America, and added, "Americans are my best clients, though we dispatch dresses to all parts of the world."
Gertrude inquired as to the origin of fashion. M. Worth answered cautiously, "When new fabrics or designs of material are invented, some require a severe style, and some are adapted for draperies, puffings, etc., and then the stage has great influence over fashion."
May Ingram said, "Mr. Worth, how do you arrange designs?" He answered, "All my models are first made in black and white muslin, and then copied in the material and coloring which I select. In a studio our models are photographed for future reference."
Saying this, he excused himself to welcome new arrivals, first having placed the Harrises in charge of a competent assistant. M. Worth's many rooms were plainly furnished with counters for measuring materials. The floors were covered with a gray and black carpet, in imitation of a tiger's skin, with a scarlet border. Several young women dressed in the latest style of morning, visiting, dinner, and reception toilets, passed up and down before clients to enable them to judge of effects. Mrs. Harris explained that one daughter desired, at an early date, a wedding dress and that the other members of her party wanted gowns.
Friday and Saturday were occupied at Worth's in selecting dresses, and elsewhere in search of gloves and other essentials. A delightful hour was spent among the many makers of artificial flowers. Skilled fingers make from wire and silk stems and stamens and dies, shape leaves and petals which are darkened by a camel's hair pencil, or lightened by a drop of water. Capable botanists and chemists are employed, and nature herself is rivaled in delicate construction and fragrance even.
In their round of shopping, the Harrises saw an ideal robe being made for an American belle. It was composed entirely of flowers, a skirt of roses of different tints, with a waist of lovely rose buds, and over all a veil with crystal drops in imitation of the morning dew. "A gem of a dress for some fairy," thought Lucille.
Promptly at six o'clock Gertrude and Lucille drove to the railway station, and welcomed back George and Colonel Harris, and after dinner all went to the opera. Between the acts Gertrude and George told much of their late experiences. George said that Colonel Harris had become greatly interested in their scheme to build in America an ideal plant and town, and that he was anxious to return home as he felt that one's work must be done early, as life was short at best.
Gertrude explained to George all that had been done in preparing for the wedding, and said that she would be ready soon, that her mother and Lucille approved of their wedding trip of two weeks in Switzerland, and then Gertrude added, "I shall be ready, George, when you are, to return to America and to aid you all I can."
Colonel Harris suggested a ride to Versailles, and Monday morning at nine o'clock Gaze's coach and four drove to the Grand Hotel, and six outside seats which had been reserved for the Harris party were filled. The coachman drove down the Avenue de l'Opera and into the Place du Carrousel, stopping a moment that all might admire the artistic pavilions of the Louvre, and the statue to the memory of Leon Gambetta, "Father of the Republic." Thence they rode out of the Court of the Tuileries, across the Place de la Concord, and down the charming Champs Elysées. On the left stands the Palais de l'Industrie, where the salon or annual exhibition of modern paintings and sculptures occurs in May and June. On the right is the Palais de l'Elysée, the official residence of the French president.
George recalled that in these gardens of Paris, in 1814, Emperors Alexander and Francis, King Frederick III., and others sang aTe Deum, in thanksgiving for their great victory over Napoleon I.; that here the English, Prussian, and Russian troops bivouacked, and that in the spring of 1871, Emperor William and his brilliant staff led the German troops beneath the Arc de Triomphe, while the German bands played "Die Wacht am Rhine."
The coach passed through the Bois de Boulogne, in sight of lovely lakes, quaint old windmills, and across famous Longchamps, where after the Franco-German War under a bright sky, in the presence of the French president, his cabinet, the senate and chamber of deputies, in full dress, and a million of enthusiastic citizens, Grevy and Gambetta presented several hundred silk banners to the French army. Thence the drive was along the left bank of the river till the ruins of St. Cloud were reached, where Napoleon III. Unwittingly signed his abdication when he declared war against Prussia.
Climbing the hills through fine old forests after fourteen miles of travel southwest of Paris, the coach reached Versailles. Here that magnificent monarch, Louis XIV. lavished hundreds of millions on palaces, parks, fountains, and statues, and here the Harrises studied the brilliant pictorial history of France. In the Grand Gallery, which commands beautiful views of garden and water, are effective paintings in the ceiling, which represent the splendid achievements of Louis XIV. In this same Hall of Glass, beneath Le Brun's color history of the defeat of the Germans by the French, occurred in 1871 a bit of fine poetic justice, when King William of Prussia, with the consent of the German States, was saluted as Emperor of reunited Germany. After visiting the Grand Trianon the home of Madame de Maintenon, the coach returned via Sevres, famous for its wonderful porcelain, and reached Paris at sunset. The day was one long to be remembered.
The Paris mornings were spent either in visits to the Louvre or in driving. George and Gertrude walked much in Paris. Monday morning all resolved to enjoy on foot the Boulevards from the Grand Hotel to the Place de la Republique. It was a field-day for the women, for every shop had its strong temptation, and the world seemed on dress-parade. Boulevard des Italiens in Paris is the most frequented and fashionable. Here are located handsome hotels and cafés, and many of the choicest and most expensive shops. Several of these were visited, and many presents were sent back to the hotel for friends at home.
At noon the Harrises took a simple lunch at one of the popular Duval restaurants. While the ladies continued their purchases, Colonel Harris and George visited the Bourse, or exchange, a noble building. Business at this stock exchange opens at twelve o'clock and closes at three o'clock. The loud vociferations of brokers, the quick gestures of excited speculators, and the babel of tongues produced a deafening noise, like that heard at the stock exchange in New York.
By appointment the ladies called at the exchange, and a coach took the party to the Place de la Republique, where stands a superb statue of the Republic, surrounded with seated figures of Liberty, Fraternity, and Equality. Colonel Harris had often noticed these remarkable words cut into many of the public buildings of Paris, and he remarked that the lesson taught by them was as injurious as that taught in the Declaration of Independence, which declares, that "all men are created equal."
Along the broadest parts of some boulevards and in public parks many chairs are placed for hire. On all the boulevards are numerous pillars, and small glass stalls, called kiosques, where newspapers are sold. The pillars and kiosques are covered with attractive advertisements. In these kiosques are sold, usually by women and children, many of the 750 papers and periodicals of Paris. Fifty of these papers are political. TheGazetteis two hundred and sixty-four years old, established in 1631.Le Temps, "The Times," an evening paper, is English-like, and widely known.Le Journal des Debats, "The Journal of Debate," appears in correct and elegant language, and it usually discusses questions of foreign as well as of home politics. Papers calledPetite, or "Little," have an immense circulation. Over a half million copies ofLe Petite Journalare sold daily. Frenchmen at home or abroad are not happy without theirFigaro, which is read for its news of amusements, spicy gossip, and the odor of the boulevards. The sensitive and powerful press of Paris has often provoked political changes and revolutions.
To study better the important revolution for liberty which occurred on the ever memorable 14th of July, 1789, the Harrises drove along the boulevard till they approached the Bastille, formerly the site of a castle, or stronghold, used for a long time as a state prison for the confinement of persons who fell victims to the caprice of the government.
The graceful bronze July Column is 154 feet in height, and it commemorates the destruction of the Bastille, symbol of despotism. A strong desire for independence raised the cry "Down with the Bastille," and the advancing tide of revolution overcame the moats, the walls, the guns, and the garrison, and freedom was victorious. On the column the names of the fallen "July Heroes" are emblazoned in gilded letters. In large vaults beneath are buried the heroes of 1789, with the victims of the later revolution of 1848. The capital of the column is crowned with an artistic Genius of Liberty standing on a globe, and holding in one hand the broken chains of slavery, and in the other the torch of enlightenment.
All the boulevards were crowded with artisans in blue blouses, hurrying to their homes, as the Harrises drove along the quays to Notre Dame. They were in time to witness the sun burnish with his golden rays the graceful spire, the majestic tower, and elegant façade, and to enjoy the harmony of its grand organ within. To know Notre Dame, founded seven centuries ago, is to learn well the history of Paris, and to study the monuments of Paris alone, is to acquire the history of France.
Every day some of the Harris party visited the vast Louvre, the most important public building of Paris, both architecturally and on account of its wonderful art treasures which are the most extensive and valuable in the world. Thus two weeks went swiftly by in sight-seeing, and in preparation for the marriage.
The private parlors, banquet hall, and several rooms for guests of the Grand Hotel had been secured for Gertrude's wedding, which was to take place on George's birthday. Though superstition for ages had placed birthdays under a ban, yet Gertrude herself preferred this day, and all concurred. Beautiful presents had already arrived from America, and letters from schoolmates and friends, several of whom, however, had sent their presents to Harrisville. Nearly a thousand invitations in all, mostly to friends in America, had been mailed, including a hundred to friends traveling on the British Isles, and on the continent. May Ingram had met in London Claude Searles, son of Hugh Searles, and a graduate of Oxford University. She had an invitation mailed to Claude, and he promised to come.
Alfonso and Leo arrived from Holland the night before, and each brought paintings of their own skill as presents. Alfonso had done an exquisite full-length portrait of Gertrude in white, the dress, the same that she wore at Smith College graduation. All wondered about Leo's gift. Gertrude herself cut the strings, and pushed back the paper, while her sister Lucille looked first at her own beautiful likeness and then at Leo. Her face grew crimson, as she said, "Leo, this is just what I most wanted for Gertrude. Thank you! Thank you!" and she came near kissing the handsome artist.
The mother had bought a plentiful supply of those things which daughters most need. The father's gift was the promised check for $1000, and a mysterious long blue envelope sealed, with the name "Mrs. Gertrude Ingram" written on the outside. Underneath her name were the tantalizing words, "To be opened when she reaches New York."
"Oh, I so wonder what is inside," said Gertrude.
May Ingram's gift was unique; a mahogany box, inlaid with the rare edelweiss, encasing a Swiss phonograph, that was adjusted to play "Elsa's Dream Song" from Lohengrin on Gertrude's marriage anniversary, till her golden wedding should occur.
Next morning after the sun had gilded the domes and spires of Paris, the Harrises sat at breakfast in a private room, fragrant with fresh cut flowers. Gertrude wore at her throat her lover's gift, and she never looked prettier or happier. All the morning till 11 o'clock everybody was busy, when the ushers and friends began to arrive. Soon came the American ambassador, his wife and children. At 11:45 a bishop of New York City, Claude Searles of London, and intimate friends of the Harrises and George Ingram followed, till the private parlors were full.
The orchestra of twenty pieces of Grand Opera House, stationed in the reception hall, played the "Largo" of Handel. In the third parlor from the ceiling were suspended ropes or garlands of smilax and bride's roses, which formed a dainty canopy. White satin ribbons festooned on two rows of potted marguerites made a bridal pathway direct from the foot of the stairway to the dais beneath the canopy.
On the low platform stood the bishop and the manly bridegroom expectant, when a voice at the foot of the stairway, accompanied by three instruments, sang the Elsa's Dream Song. The wedding party came downstairs as the orchestra played Wagner's Wedding March. The bride was dressed in duchess satin of soft ivory tone, the bodice high and long sleeves, with trimming of jewelled point lace. The bridesmaids wore pale yellow cloth, with reveres and cuffs of daffodil yellow satin and white Venetian point. Mrs. Harris wore a gown of heliotrope brocaded silk, trimmed with rich lace and a bodice of velvet.
The wedding party took their places and Mme. Melba accompanied by piano, harp, and violin sang Gounod's "Ave Maria."
The bishop addressed a few earnest words to the couple before him, spoke of responsibilities and obligations, and then the formal questions of marriage, in distinct voice, were put to George and Gertrude.
Mr. and Mrs. George Ingram received hearty congratulations. The guests retired to the banquet hall where breakfast was served. One table with marguerites was reserved for bride and bridegroom, ushers, and bridesmaids. Before the breakfast was ended the bride and bridegroom had escaped, but soon returned, the bride in a traveling gown of blue cloth. Volleys of rice followed the bridal pair, and more rice pelted the windows of the coach as it drove to the express train which was to convey the happy pair to Fontainebleau for a day, and thence into Switzerland. In the evening Colonel Harris entertained a large party of friends at the new opera house. The Harrises next morning left for southern France.
Before the marriage day George and Gertrude had carefully provided in Paris for the welfare of May Ingram whom both loved. And well they might, for May had a noble nature, and her music teachers in Boston, who had exerted their best efforts in her behalf, believed that she possessed rare talents, which, if properly developed, would some day make her conspicuous in the American galaxy of primadonnas.
They had secured for May sunny rooms at a pension in the Boulevard Haussmann, where a motherly French woman resided with her two daughters. In beautiful Paris, May Ingram was to live and study, hoping to realize the dreams of her childhood, a first rank in grand opera.
Before leaving Paris Colonel Harris was solicitous that his son Alfonso should accompany him to Rome, and Leo urged the artistic advantage of a trip to Italy, but Alfonso had attractions in Holland of which the father knew not. Leo, of course, had his suspicion, but did not wish to betray his friend, and so Alfonso returned to the Netherlands ostensibly to study art.
Before leaving New York it was frequently stated by Leo that when he reached Rome he hoped to be able to even up favors with Alfonso by a series of visits among his relatives, the famous Colonna family. While Leo regretted seriously to lose this opportunity, he was quick to see that the change of plans would leave him much in Lucille's company, the thing that gave him most pleasure. Lucille before leaving Harrisville had a severe attack of the grip, and Mrs. Harris hoped the journey abroad would prove beneficial to her health.
The ocean voyage had brought the roses back to her cheeks, but the railway trips, the over-work of sight-seeing, and especially the excitement of the Paris wedding, had renewed frequent complaints of heart difficulty, and at night Lucille was restless and failed to secure satisfactory sleep. Of course the mother was anxious, and was glad when the express arrived at Nice, on the Mediterranean. Fortunately this was not the fashionable season, so quiet quarters were secured overlooking the terraced promenade, the small harbor open to the southeast, and the smooth sea beyond. Here Mrs. Harris hoped that her daughter would speedily recover her health.
Nice is charmingly situated in a small plain near the French frontier at the foot of the triple-ridged mountains, which shelter the city on the north and east against northern winds, while the river Paglion bounds Nice on the west. Far beyond stretch the snow-clad peaks of the Maritime Alps.
In the cold season thousands of foreigners, especially the English, visit this winter paradise. On the high background are Roman ruins and an old castle enclosed by bastioned walls; leading to two squares, one of which is surrounded with porticoes, are streets embellished with theater, public library, baths, and handsome homes that are frescoed externally. In Nice the patriot Garibaldi first saw the light, and just above the town on a sunny hillside lies buried the illustrious Gambetta.
Lucille was soon able to sit on the portico and watch the vessels in the harbor come and go, also parties of excursionists in pleasure boats, and well dressed people in the shade of the great palms on the adjacent promenade. Thus hours went pleasantly by while Leo often played delightfully on his guitar.
Few if any places in the world are like the Riviera where in winter months royalty and aristocracy gather. Here come the gay world of fashion and the delicate in health to beg of death a respite of a few more days. The physician in attendance upon Lucille advised much outdoor air, and frequent coach rides along the shore were taken to Cannes, to Monaco, and Mentone.
In the seaport town of Cannes, a bright gem set in groves of olives and oranges, Napoleon landed from Elba on the first of March, 1815. The tri-color of France was again thrown to the breeze, and en route to Paris Napoleon received on every hand the renewed allegiance of officers and garrisons. The French were wild with excitement, but Europe was filled with amazement. Again France was conquered without the shedding of blood, a victory unparalleled in history.
Lucille particularly enjoyed the ride of eight miles east along the peaceful Mediterranean, also the visit to Monaco, capital of the principality of its own name, with an area of about 34,000 acres. Monaco is beautifully situated on a promontory in the sea, and has an attractive palace and cultivated terraces. The ruling prince resides here six months and at Paris the other six months.
Monte Carlo is a veritable bit of paradise so far as nature and art can work wonders. Around this famous gambling resort grow aloes, orange trees, and tufted palms. Within the handsome casino weak humanity of all nationalities is allured by glittering promises of wealth. No wonder a dozen or more suicides occur every month.
It was three o'clock on the sixth day of the stay at Nice, when Colonel Harris sitting on the porch of the hotel and using a marine glass, discovered to the southwest a tiny craft rapidly approaching Nice. For three days he had been anxiously watching and waiting for the arrival of the "Hallena," built at Harrisville for the son of his special friend Mr. Harry Hall.
Before leaving Paris, Harry Hall Jr. had invited the colonel's family to coast along the Mediterranean in his new yacht. It was arranged that the "Hallena" should touch at Nice and take aboard the colonel's family. Young Mr. Hall was to rejoin his yacht at Gibraltar, and doubtless he was now aboard.
The colonel grew nervous as he observed the approach of the little boat. It had been agreed between Harris and Hall that the yacht would fly the Union Jack at the bow, the national banner at the flag-staff, and a streamer bearing the yacht's name at the mast-head.
As the colonel again wiped the dust from his glasses, Lucille said, "Father, please let me try the glass, perhaps my eyes are better." While Lucille eagerly looked toward the yacht, Leo watched every motion, as the mention of young Hall's name in connection with his great wealth had awakened jealousy in his heart.
Suddenly Lucille shouted, "There she is! I can see the stars and stripes; how welcome is the dear old flag, we see it abroad so rarely!"
"Hasten, Leo," said the colonel, "and ask the hotel proprietor to raise the stars and stripes over his hotel."
Colonel Harris had promised Mr. Hall to do this, and so advise him where the Harris family were stopping. No sooner was the red, white, and blue given to the breeze above the hotel, than a puff of white smoke was seen on the yacht, and then came the report of a gun in response to Harris's flag signal. Bills were paid at once, and the Harrises took carriage down to the landing. As the "Hallena" glided in between the piers, she was as graceful as a swan, or as Leo expressed it, "as pretty as a pirate."
Harris himself when at home saw the yacht launched, and he was as proud of her behavior then as were the officers of the Harrisville Ship Building Company.
The yacht had now approached so near that Colonel Harris and Harry Hall saluted each other, and in five minutes the Harris and Hall parties were exchanging cordial greetings on the deck of the "Hallena." "Captain Hall," as Harry was known at sea, was very cordial to all. Colonel Harris was glad again to meet some of his old Harrisville business friends.
Luke Henley and wife were of the Hall party. He was stout, resolute, and ambitious; his wife womanly and well dressed. Henley early learned that money was power. Combining what he fell heir to with his wife's fortune, and what he had made by bold ventures in the steel, ore, and coal trade, he was enabled to live in a fine villa, overlooking the water, and to carry on an immense business on the inland lakes.
His business, however, was used as a cover to his real designs in life. Influential in the local politics of Harrisville he had experienced the keen pleasure of wielding the silver sceptre of power, and he longed not only to be the "power behind the throne," but to sit on the throne itself and guide the Ship of State.
Major Williams also was one of the "Hallena" party. He was young, slender, and had a cheerful smile for everybody. He had climbed to the presidency of the Harrisville Bank which had thousands of depositors, and which wielded a gigantic financial power.
It was decided not to start for Genoa till the next morning. Dinner was soon announced and Captain Hall offered his arm to Lucille, whom he placed at his right hand, and Mrs. Harris at his left. The dinner hour and part of the evening were spent in pleasant reminiscences of what each had seen since leaving Harrisville. The marriage of George Ingram and Gertrude was also a suggestive topic, and many agreeable things were spoken. Captain Hall was present at the Paris wedding, and it was the stately beauty of Lucille more than all else that prompted him to invite the Harrises to take the Mediterranean cruise.
Some of the mothers of fine daughters in Harrisville had exhausted their wits in trying to entrap Harry Hall, who was impartially attentive to all, but was never known to pay marked attention to any young lady. That Captain Hall should overlook the other women on the yacht, and place Lucille at his right hand was so marked that Major Williams after dinner, lighting his cigar, said, "Henley, why wouldn't Harry and Lucille make a good match?" "Lucille is a beautiful girl," was all Henley said, and as the lights of Nice disappeared, the "Hallena" party retired for the night.
An early breakfast was ordered as everybody wished to be early on deck to witness the yacht's departure for Genoa. As the "Hallena" responded to her helm, the United States consul at Nice hoisted and lowered the flag thrice, as abon voyageto the American yacht, and the consul queried whether the American statesman was yet born who was wise enough to introduce and maintain such a national policy as would multiply his country's commerce and flag on the sea. Patriotic Americans stopping at Monaco also responded with flag and gun, as the "Hallena" steamed swiftly away.
The sun had reached the zenith, when Captain Hall sighted Genoa, and he called Lucille to stand with him on the bridge. "Superb Genoa! Worthy birthplace of our Columbus," said Lucille.
"Yes," said Harry, "Genoa is older than Borne; she was the rival of Venice, and the mother of colonies."
As the "Hallena" approached this strongly fortified city of northern Italy, the capacious harbor was a forest of masts, and a crazy-quilt of foreign flags, but not one ship was flying the stars and stripes, a fact which saddened the hearts of the tourists. The "Hallena" steamed past the lighthouse and moles that protect the harbor, and all the guests of Captain Hall stood on the forward deck admiring the city with its palaces, churches, white blocks, and picturesque villas that occupy land which gradually rises and recedes from the bay.
On landing, the officials were very courteous, and gave Captain Hall and his party no trouble when it was learned that that "Hallena" brought travelers only. The Genoese are very proud of their city and its past history, and they are courteous to Americans, especially so since the Columbian World's Fair.
The tourists found the streets in the older part of Genoa narrow, seldom more than ten feet wide, with lofty buildings on either side. But in the new portions, especially on the wide Strada Nuova and the Strada Balbi, the palaces and edifices present fine architecture.
Nearly a day was spent in driving about Genoa with its flower-crowned terraces. It was after five o'clock when the party stood before the noble statue of Columbus recently dedicated in a prominent square filled with palms and flowering shrubs, and near the principal railway station. Here the statue welcomes the coming and speeds the parting guest. Its design is admirable. Surmounting a short shaft is Columbus leaning upon an anchor, and pointing with his right hand to the figure of America; below him are discerned encircling the shaft ornaments symbolic of Columbus's little fleet, while other statues represent science, religion, courage, and geography; between them are scenes in bass-relief of his adventurous career.
Dinner was taken aboard the yacht as it steamed away from Genoa. The flowers that Harry had bought for Lucille's stateroom she thoughtfully placed on the table, and with the porcelain they added artistic effect. The day's experiences were reviewed, and, as the appetizing courses were served, the conversation drifted back to the World's Columbian Fair which all had attended. Many of the wonders of the "White City" were recounted, and Henley in his off-hand manner repeated a compliment which was paid by a cultivated Parisian who visited the Fair. The Frenchman said that at the last Paris Exposition, he saw immense and unsightly structures, such as one might expect to find in far-off Chicago, but that at the Columbian World's Fair, he beheld buildings such as his own artistic Paris and France should have furnished; that the Columbian Fair was an artistic triumph that had never been paralleled except in the days of imperial Rome by her grand temples, palaces, arches, bridges, and statues.
"The Parisian is right, and he pays America a most deserved compliment. Never was so elegant a panorama enrolled as at Chicago," responded Colonel Harris.
"You are correct, Colonel," said Captain Hall, "the triumph of our Exposition was largely due to the masterly supervision which evoked uniformity of design and harmonious groupings by employing only those of our architects, sculptors, painters, and landscape gardeners, who possessed the highest skill."
Leo ventured to add that the "White City" seemed to him dream-like and that under the magical influence of Columbus, as patron-saint, all nationality, creed, and sex, were harmoniously blended in ideal beauty and grandeur.
Lucille, who had just sipped the last of her chocolate, also bore testimony, and Harry watched her admiringly as she said, "At times, especially in the evening, when thousands of incandescent lights outlined the Court of Honor with its golden Goddess of the Republic and the façades, turrets, and domes, it seemed to some of us as if we had stepped out upon a neighboring planet, where civilization and art had been purified, or that the veil was lifted and we were gazing upon the glories of the New Jerusalem."