The traveller setting out overland some sixty years before de Windt, and hoping to get to Constantinople relatively unscathed, would need Murray’s Southern Germany and Austria of 1858, as well as Greece and Turkey, both of 1854. From these three volumes he would derive much practical information, as well as an adequate amount of interesting matter to read, leading him to agree with Thackeray as he jogged along that: ‘Much delight and instruction have I had in the course of the journey from my guide, philosopher, and friend, the author of “Murray’s Hand-book”’.
Even as early in his journey as southern Germany, our traveller ‘must by no means expect to meet with splendid hotels. Except in the chief towns, the inns are generally built on low vaults; the entrance serves for man and beast; and an oppressive odour of the stable often pervades them. The extreme disregard to cleanliness and sweetness, which is most annoying and disgusting to Englishmen, merits the utmost reprobation. The Germans themselves do not seem to be aware of it: let it be hoped that their increased intercourse with the English will introduce a taste for cleanliness, and a greater appreciation of it. In the bed-rooms, the small provision made for washing, usually confined to a small shallow pie-dish, a caraffe or tumbler of water, and a handkerchief for a towel, proclaim the nature of German habits in this respect, and shows how easily the desire for ablution is satisfied.’
By now one could pass fairly quickly through the country by train. ‘The middle and wealthy classes travel almost exclusively in the second class, of which fact the traveller may easily satisfy himself by observing the very small number of first-class places in each train, and that even these are usually unoccupied, unless the conductor happens to have filled them with his friends.’
It was more than likely that the traveller’s route lay through Bavaria, in which case he would have been interested in the following observations on beer, which the Bavarian is said to like inordinately, and to which ‘he seems even more addicted than the natives of other parts of Germany … The conversation of the people constantly runs upon the amount and the quality of the annual brewing; it is a subject of as important discussion as the vintage or harvest in other countries … A genuine beer-drinker will contrive to swallow 10 to 12 measures, each holding much more than a quart English. Notwithstanding this attachment to beer, it may be said that drunkenness is not prevalent — at least it is not offensively visible — the principal reason being that it is not easy even for a Bavarian to swallow sufficient to produce intoxication.’
Should the traveller stop off for a few days at Nuremberg, he may take a ride on the first railway completed for locomotives in Germany, to the nearby town of Fürth, where about a quarter of the population of 15,000 are Jews, who ‘being interdicted by an illiberal law from settling, or even sleeping, in Nuremberg, have made the fortune of Fürth by their industry and perseverance. They possess a college of their own here, a separate court of justice, 2 Hebrew printing establishments, and several schools and synagogues, and enjoy privileges denied them in other parts of the Continent. The town may be considered a German Birmingham …”
On coming to Austrian territory the traveller is treated with great civility, and ‘asked for his passport, and requested to declare if he had any contraband articles. Those expressly forbidden, and not admitted even on payment of duty, are playing-cards, almanacs, tobacco, snuff, cigars, and sealed letters. All books interdicted by the censor are at once confiscated; those about which a doubt exists are retained to be examined by the censor … As a general rule, it is worth the traveller’s while, on entering a new territory, to give the douaniers a couple of francs, by which he will obtain civility and despatch.’
The traveller is reminded: ‘The same offences that would subject him to police interference in his own country would of course be attended with similar consequences in Austria; and if he were to get up in a coffee-room in Vienna and abuse the Austrian government, there is no doubt that he would find a gentleman from the police waiting at his own door in readiness to conduct him to the frontier. But to a mere traveller the police regulations are not more oppressive than in most other continental countries, and the officers by whom they are administered are usually distinguished for the civility and politeness with which they treat strangers, especially Englishmen, provided they themselves are treated as gentlemen.’
Apart from the usual scenery and art treasures to be seen in Austria, a visit to one of the many salt-mines is highly recommended. In the works where the commodity is processed: ‘The increase of temperature causes the thin iron pan to heave and twist, and … Sometimes a hole is burned in the bottom, or a crack is produced; and as it is not possible to put out the fire merely on account of it, a man is sent into the pan to seek out the leak. This is a hazardous enterprise, as he runs the risk of being nearly stifled by the vapour, and of being boiled alive if he lose his footing. For this purpose he is shod with a pair of high pattens, not unlike two stools, upon which he wades through the boiling brine.’
Austrian inns are said to be rather better than those in Germany, as are the restaurants. On arriving at one in some remote area in the mountains, ‘the new comer must not expect to be ushered in by a trim waiter with napkin tucked under his arm. He will most probably have to find his own way, under a low archway, by a passage which, though boarded, serves for the ingress and egress of horses and carriages, to the public room, which he will perhaps have to share with the people of the village; unless, as sometimes happens, there is an inner or better apartment for guests of distinction. It is generally a low apartment, with vaulted roof, supported on massive buttresses; at the door he will find a little cup for holy water; not far off hangs a crucifix, sometimes with a figure as large as life, and the walls are ornamented with stags’ horns, or a chamois head, probably trophies of the rifle of mine host.’
The scene thus set is not unlike that of the opening of a 1930s horror movie, for after describing the furniture the writer goes on: ‘Several sleepy-looking peasants will usually be seen seated on benches around the tables of unpainted wood, half enveloped in the smoke of their pipes, nodding over several huge beer-glasses with pewter lids. In the corner stands an unwieldy stove, the general point of attraction in cold weather. If the stranger, in search of some member of the establishment, extend his researches, he may perhaps find his way into the kitchen, in the centre of which, below a gaping chimney, is a raised platform paved with stones all scorched and black. Upon this culinary altar a wood fire is blazing, over it hangs a caldron, while around it, 2 or 3 busy females will be assembled, each tending some department of cookery, and too busy to notice the stranger.’
Perhaps our traveller is induced to tap his stick on the wall, for eventually the waitress makes her appearance, and very pleased he must have been to see her: ‘She is a bustling, active damsel (often the landlord’s daughter), with ruddy cheeks, and a good-humoured smile for everybody, very trimly dressed, and bearing about her the symbols of her office, a bunch of keys on one side, and a large leathern purse on the other. Through her active mediation the traveller’s wants (provided they are not extravagant) are soon attended to, and in half an hour the trout and chamois are smoking on the board, and, with the never-failing friendly salutation of “I wish you a good appetite,” he is invited to commence his repast. Sometimes mine host himself appears and seats himself by the stranger’s side, as it would be considered rude to leave him alone during dinner in this country — a piece of old-fashioned politeness which an Englishman, if not prepared for it, might call impertinence. As he rises from the table, the guest is probably wished a “good digestion”; and for the douceur of a 5-Kreutzer piece when settling his bill, the waitress will smother his hand with kisses — for here the expression “I kiss your hand,” in return for a favour, is not confined to the word, but is followed by the act; and as he leaves the house a hearty greeting of “glückliche Reise!” from the whole household, will follow his departing steps, provided he has conducted himself properly.’