A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North | Page 3

Had it rained, we
should have been wetted to the skin, besides being compelled to wade
ankle-deep in mud. We were next obliged to remain in the open air,
awaiting the arrival of the train from Stockerau, which unloaded its
freight, and received us in exchange.
At Stockerau I once more took leave of my companions, and was soon
securely packed in the post-carriage for transmission.
In travelling this short distance, I had thus entered four carriages; a
thing sufficiently disagreeable to an unencumbered person, but
infinitely more so to one who has luggage to watch over. The only
advantage I could discover in all this was, that we had saved half an
hour in coming these seventeen miles. For this, instead of 9 fl. 26 kr.
from Vienna to Prague, we paid 10 fl. 10 kr. from Stockerau to Prague,
without reckoning expense of omnibus and railway. It was certainly a
dearly-bought half-hour. {3}

The little town of Znaim, with its neighbouring convent, is situated on a
large plain, extending from Vienna to Budwitz, seventeen miles beyond
Znaim; the monotony of the view is only broken here and there by low
hills.
Near Schelletau the scenery begins to improve. On the left the view is
bounded by a range of high hills, with a ruined castle, suggestive of
tragical tales of centuries gone by. Fir and pine forests skirt the road,
and lie scattered in picturesque groups over hill and dale.
April 11th.
Yesterday the weather had already begun to be ungracious to us. At
Znaim we found the valleys still partly covered with snow, and the fog
was at times so thick, that we could not see a hundred paces in advance;
but to-day it was incomparably worse. The mist resolved itself into a
mild rain, which, however, lost so much of its mildness as we passed
from station to station, that every thing around us was soon under water.
But not only did we ride through water, we were obliged to sit in it also.
The roof of our carriage threatened to become a perfect sieve, and the
rain poured steadily in. Had there been room for such a proceeding, we
should all have unfurled our umbrellas.
On occasions like these, I always silently admire the patience of my
worthy countrymen, who take every thing so good-humouredly. Were I
a man, I should pursue a different plan, and should certainly not fail to
complain of such carelessness. But as a woman, I must hold my peace;
people would only rail at my sex, and call it ill-humoured. Besides, I
thanked my guardian-angel for these discomforts, looking upon them as
a preparation for what was to befall me in the far North.
Passing several small towns and villages, we at length entered the
Bohemian territory, close behind Iglau. The first town which we saw
was Czaslau, with its large open square, and a few neat houses; the
latter provided with so-called arbours (or verandahs), which enable one
to pass round the square dry-footed, even in the most rainy weather.
Journeying onwards, we noticed the fine cathedral and town of

Kuttenberg, once famous for its gold and silver mines. {4} Next comes
the great tobacco-manufactory of Sedlitz, near which we first see the
Elbe, but only for a short time, as it soon takes another direction.
Passing the small town of Collin, we are whirled close by the
battle-field where, in the year 1757, the great King Frederick paid his
score to the Austrians. An obelisk, erected a few years since to the
memory of General Daun, occupies a small eminence on the right. On
the left is the plain of Klephorcz, where the Austrian army was drawn
up. {5}
At eleven o'clock on the same night we reached

PRAGUE.
As it was my intention to pursue my journey after two days, my first
walk on the following morning was to the police-office, to procure a
passport and the all-important pass-warrant; my next to the
custom-house, to take possession of a small chest, which I had
delivered up five days before my departure, and which, as the expeditor
affirmed, I should find ready for me on my arrival at Prague. {6} Ah,
Mr. Expeditor! my chest was not there. After Saturday comes Sunday;
but on Sunday the custom-house is closed. So here was a day lost, a
day in which I might have gone to Dresden, and even visited the opera.
On Monday morning I once more hastened to the office in anxious
expectation; the box was not yet there. An array of loaded wagons had,
however, arrived, and in one of these it might be. Ah, how I longed to
see my darling little box, in order that I might--not press it to my heart,
but unpack it in