A Visit to the Holy Land, Egypt, and Italy | Page 6

few moments, little opportunity is
afforded of seeing the interior of the towns, or of visiting most of the
places at which we touch. At such times all is hurry and confusion;
suddenly the bell rings, the planks are withdrawn, and the unlucky
stranger who has loitered on board for a few moments is obliged to
proceed with us to the next station.
At Neusatz this happened to a servant, in consequence of his carrying
his master's luggage into the cabin instead of merely throwing it down
on the deck. The poor man was conveyed on to Semlin, and had to
travel on foot for a day and a half to regain his home. A very pleasant
journey of two hours from Pancsova brought us to the Turkish fortress
Semendria, the situation of which is truly beautiful. The numerous
angles of its walls and towers, built in the Moorish style, impart to this
place a peculiar charm. As a rule, the Turkish fortresses are remarkable
for picturesque effect.
But the villages, particularly those on the Servian shore, had the same
poverty-stricken look I had frequently noticed in Galicia. Wretched
clay huts, thatched with straw, lay scattered around; and far and wide
not a tree or a shrub appeared to rejoice the eye of the traveller or of the
sojourner in these parts, under the shade of which the poor peasant
might recruit his weary frame, while it would conceal from the eye of
the traveller, in some degree, the poverty and nakedness of habitations
on which no feeling mind can gaze without emotions of pity.

The left bank of the river belongs to Hungary, and is called the
"Banat;" it presents an appearance somewhat less desolate. Much,
however, remains to be desired; and the poverty that reigns around is
here more to be wondered at, from the fact that this strip of land is so
rich in the productions of nature as to have obtained the name of the
"Garner of Hungary."
On the Austrian side of the Danube sentries are posted at every two or
three hundred paces--an arrangement which has been imitated by the
governments on the left bank, and is carried out to the point where the
river empties itself into the Black Sea.
It would, however, be erroneous to suppose that these soldiers mount
guard in their uniforms. They take up their positions, for a week at a
time, in their wretched tattered garments; frequently they are barefoot,
and their huts look like stables. I entered some of these huts to view the
internal arrangements. They could scarcely have been more simple. In
one corner I found a hearth; in another, an apology for a stove, clumsily
fashioned out of clay. An unsightly hole in the wall, stopped with paper
instead of glass, forms the window; the furniture is comprised in a
single wooden bench. Whatever the inhabitant requires in the way of
provisions he must bring with him; for this he is allowed by the
government to cultivate the land.
Throughout the Russian territory the soldiers at least wear uniform.
Our journey becomes more and more charming. Frequently the mighty
river rushes foaming and roaring past the rocks, which seem scarcely to
allow it a passage; at other times it glides serenely onwards. At every
turn we behold new beauties, and scarcely know on which side to turn
our eager eyes. Meanwhile the ship sails swiftly on, gliding
majestically through wildly romantic scenery.
At one o'clock in the afternoon we reached Pasiest, where there is
nothing to be seen but a large store of coals for the steamers and a few
huts. Of the town itself nothing can be distinguished.
A couple of miles below Pasiest we enjoy an imposing spectacle. It is

the solitary rock Babakay, rising from the midst of the waters. Together
with the beautiful ruin Golumbacz, on the Servian shore, it forms a
magnificent view.
March 27th.
How unfortunate it is that all advantages are so seldom found combined!
We are now travelling amid glorious scenery, which we hoped should
recompense us for the manifold discomforts we have hitherto endured;
but the weather is unpropitious. The driving snow sends us all into the
cabin. The Danube is so fiercely agitated by the stormy wind, that it
rises into waves like a sea. We are suffering lamentably from cold;
unable to warm ourselves, we stand gazing ruefully at the place where
the stove stood--once upon a time.
At four o'clock we reached Drenkova without accident, but completely
benumbed: we hurried into the inn built by the steamboat company,
where we found capital fare, a warm room, and tolerably comfortable
beds. This was the first place we had reached since leaving Pesth at
which we could thoroughly warm and refresh ourselves.
At Drenkova itself there