Читать книгу The Story Teller of the Desert—"Backsheesh!" or, Life and Adventures in the Orient - Thomas Wallace Knox - Страница 70

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Next day we climbed to the old chateau that overlooks Pres-burg, and from the esplanade in front had a beautiful view of the city and its surroundings. Beneath us lay Presburg, venerable and grey, with its cathedral, six centuries old, and its Hotel de Ville, dating from the fourteenth century. Directly at our feet was the Jews-quarter. There are seven thousand Jews here in a population of less than fifty thousand; and there is more dirt and general uncleanliness in their quarter than in all the rest of Presburg. West of us the hills shut out the view of Vienna. North were the vine-clad ridges whence come the wines of Presburg. And to the south and east were plain, field and forest; and showing a broad, winding belt of silver, the course of the Danube.

Immediately opposite, and connected with the city by the bridge of boats, was an island where is the Prater of Presburg with shaded seats, with restaurants and open-air theatres and other places of amusements, to which the wearied citizen goes to recreate in the fresh air. We went there in the afternoon and found the Presburg adult of both sexes; we went there in the morning and found the Presburg nursery-maid and infant in goodly numbers. In the evening we went to the theatre; the best box in the house costs two dollars; and a seat in the parquette forty cents. We had an Italian opera, William Tell. The singing was fair, considering the price of tickets, and the size of the house, and the son of William Tell was represented by a young woman so pretty that my friend, the captain, was near falling in love with her, despite his venerable years and his three months in Vienna. The grand chorus consisted of twelve persons, the orchestra of nine, and the scenery was of a miscellaneous nature that enabled it to do duty in all the operas of any ordinary répertoire.

From Presburg to Pesth by the river is a run of about ten hours. Bidding good-bye to the Captain, who was to return to Vienna, I went to the landing one morning to take the boat down the river. She was due at half-past nine o’clock, and I was there ten minutes before the time. The hour came, but no boat. Then ten, ten and a half, eleven, eleven and a half; and still no boat. I tried to be patient, but that was not easy; I interrogated everybody, but to no purpose. Everybody was polite, but couldn’t give any reason for the delay.

Finally, the boat appeared, and it turned out that she had been aground in a fog near Vienna. Perfectly simple explanation when you know it! But there had been no fog at Presburg, and hence the inability to comprehend the cause of the delay.

Below Presburg, the river runs through a level country that offers few objects of interest. It divides into several branches, and becomes wide, and in some places so shallow that navigation is rather difficult. We wound about considerably in some places, in search of the channel, and not infrequently the bottom of the boat and the bottom of the river came in contact. The erratic course of the Danube can be best understood by a knowledge of the fact, that two of the islands formed by its diversion into different channels, are, the one sixty, and the other forty miles long. One is twenty, and the other ten miles wide; and both are so fertile that they are called the Golden Gardens. Their surfaces are diversified with forest, field, and pasture; herds of cattle and horses are numerous upon them, and now and then villages peep out from the rich foliage. Back from the river there are extensive wheat fields, and along the line of railway, just before the harvest, one can ride for many miles through almost unbroken fields of waving grain.

We pass the fortress of Komoru, and peer into the casemates, whence the black-mouthed cannon look frowningly upon us. Komoru has a bloody and eventful history; she has played an important part in all the wars between Austria and Hungary, and in the insurrection of 1848-9 was twice captured and re-captured. The deeds of valor of which Komoru was the scene, would fill a volume; some of them have found a place in the histories of that war, and some live only in the memories of the men who bore a part in the insurrection, or in the effort to suppress it.

Below Komoru, the Danube became more interesting, and we entered a mountain region that would have been picturesque could we have seen it by daylight. It was dark when we passed this portion, and it was darker when we reached the upper extremity of Isle Marguerite, with its gardens and summer resorts, where the people of Pesth seek recreation and pure air in the hot days of summer.

Along the channel that leads by the pretty island, we steamed at full speed; and as we swept beyond its groves, the twinkling lamps of Pesth suddenly came into view, fringing the bank of the river with a lace-work of artificial light. The boat swung round in mid-stream, and brought us to the bank, where a stone quay, with warehouses and piles of merchandise, gave evidence of a prosperous city. The quay has a modern and substantial appearance, and is overlooked by a street, on one side of which is an iron railing, and the other side of which can boast many fine structures, equalling in beauty and solidity most of the marble or iron fronts of New York. Pesth has accomplished much in the last few years, in the way of building, and one is rather taken aback to find such a prosperous and rapidly-growing city so far in the East.


The Story Teller of the Desert—

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