Chapter 2 Chapter two

I left Paris on the 173 train of the Gare de l'Est at 7:45 am on April 5th. In 30 hours, I will arrive in Vienna, the capital of Austria. Several major stations in France are Chalon-Haute-Marne and Nancy.As the train passed through the nostalgic Lorraine-Alsace region, it stopped only briefly in Strasbourg, and I didn't even get out of the car.It is a little unbearable to leave a dear compatriot.As the train rolled out of town, I leaned out and saw the spiers of Munster Cathedral bathed in golden sunlight.Now, over the French horizon, the sun was slowly setting. All night long, the train was speeding forward, and the sound of the wheels pressing against the rails was monotonous and dull, making people drowsy.From time to time I heard the shrill voice of the conductor calling the names of Oss, Bad, Karlslug and several other cities. During the daytime on April 6, the speeding trains left behind Stuttgart and Ulm in Württemberg, Augsburg in Pavier, and Munich, several famous cities in the Napoleonic era.The train made a longer stop in Salzburg as it approached the Austrian border.

In the afternoon, the train stopped at several stations, including Wales. Finally, at 5:35, the train whistled and drove into Vienna Station. I only stayed in Vienna for 36 hours, including two nights, so I could only wander around.I plan to take a closer look when I return.As government officials often say, problems should be approached in silos, and so should travel arrangements. The Danube neither passes through the city of Vienna, nor is it close to the suburbs.I traveled about 4 kilometers by car to reach the pier.This is not 1830, when inland shipping was just getting started.Not many people want to travel by boat.

On the decks and cabins of the "Matthias Govan" there was everything, and I mean every type of passenger: Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, Russians and Englishmen.Passengers were crammed in the back cabin, because the front cabin was so full of cargo that it was hard to find a place to go.Among these people, I took a closer look, and it was not difficult to find some Poles who wore Hungarian costumes but only spoke Italian. Mr. Duruy mentioned these people in his travel notes of Paris and Budapest written in 1860. . This beautiful river is ocher-colored, not the legendary azure-blue color, and the barges galloped forward, splitting layers of turbid waves.In the waterway, all kinds of ships shuttle back and forth non-stop, and the sails of the ships flutter in the breeze, full of rich products produced on the endless wilderness on both sides of the river.Our boat also passed wide rafts, which seemed to be made of the timber of a whole forest, on which floating villages were built, built when they left and dismantled when they reached their destination, reminiscent of the magical landscape on the Brazilian Amazon. House on the water.There are dotted islands of all sizes on the river, most of which have just emerged from the water, and will be submerged as long as the river rises slightly.There are rows of willows on both sides of the bank, and flowers are dotted in the green grass, which is green everywhere, which makes people feel happy physically and mentally.

We also sailed past waterside villages close to the banks of the river.The barge galloped, causing layers of waves, and the houses seemed to be crumbling on wooden piles.It then passed under a rope between the banks and nearly got caught in the chimney at the top of the boat.This is the guy line of the ferry supported by two tall poles.On top of a tall pole hangs the Austrian flag.Below the city of Vienna, I saw a ring-shaped island, more than a French mile in diameter, with green trees along the coast, and the island was flat and endless.The river overflowed, and the overflow of the river washed the ground in streaks, as if it had been plowed.The sight before me reminded me of an important historical event on the famous day of July 6, 1809.The island is the famous Lobo Island. In the French fortifications on the island, 150,000 French soldiers opened up the Danube waterway. Napoleon led them to win brilliant victories in the battles of Esling and Wagram.

Today, Fischamenen and Rigersprun have disappeared from our view.At night, the "Matthia Kovan" moored at the mouth of the March River.This is a tributary of the Danube which flows from the left, originating in Morvia, to the border of the Magyar Kingdom.The ship docked here from the night of April 8th to the early morning of April 9th.Early the next morning, it sailed again and crossed the soil where the French and the Turks fought bloody battles in the seventh century.Since then, the ship has stopped at Petronaar, Altenburg, Heinburg, and passed through the narrow gates of Hungary.The locks were opened and the ship sailed into the Pressburg wharf.

The vessel stopped for twenty-four hours to load and unload cargo.From Vienna to this city, the ship has sailed 300 kilometers.So, I had time to take a closer look at this city that is frequented by real tourists.She seems to stand on a cape, and what flows under her feet is not a calm river, but a rough sea, which is really breathtaking.On the bustling wharf, the silhouettes of houses are faintly visible, neat and beautiful.At the tip of the left bank, the spire of a church soars into the sky; another spire stands at the other end. Between the two churches is a large round hill with an ancient castle standing on it.

The dome of the cathedral was bathed in a golden light.Afterwards, I visited many palaces and residences of the Hungarian nobles.I climbed the hill and looked down at the huge castle.It was a quadrangular building with towers at the corners, but a feudal ruin.It is really worthwhile to climb high and overlook the rich vineyards, and see the rolling water of the Danube flowing through the vast plain. Pressburg, formerly the capital of the Hungarian kings, is now the capital of the Magyars and the seat of the Congress.It turns out that the Congress was held in Budapest until the Ottoman Empire invaded, and it occupied the city from 1530 to 1686 for more than a century and a half.Although Pressburg has 45,000 people, it is only when the National Assembly is held, and members of the parliament flock from all over, then it is more lively and crowded.

I must also add that, for a Frenchman, the name of Pressburg was closely associated with the honorable peace with Austria signed in 1805 after the Battle of Austerlitz. On the morning of April 11, the "Matthia Govan" sailed from the lower reaches of Pressburg into the vast Pusztau Plain.Called "Spantier" by the Russians and "Savana" by the Americans, it occupies the entire central part of Hungary.This is a real magical kingdom, with endless grass fields, thousands of horses galloping, and tens of thousands of cattle living leisurely in it. The Danube has many twists and turns in Hungary.It brings together the rolling waters of the Carpathian Mountains and the Styrian Alps, and it is no longer the small river in Austria.

I can't forget that the Danube originates in the Grand Duchy of Bad, which adjoins the Alsace-Lorraine region on the French border!Its original flow still comes from the rain in France! At night, the ship arrived at La Fort, stopped at the pier for the night, and did not leave the next day and night.I spent twelve hours exploring the city.The Magyars call this city "Gyer" with a population of 2 and it is 60 kilometers away from Pressburg.It has experienced the violent uprising storm in 1849. The next day, I went down dozens of kilometers from La Fort, and I saw the famous Klaumona Fortress from a distance from the boat. This is a castle built by Matthias Kovan in the 15th century, and it was also the place where the rebels fought to the death. ruins.

In this Magyar land, wandering along the charming banks of the Danube is truly refreshing.The river is winding and winding, the scenery is varied, the shoal is half submerged, and white cranes and water storks are flying on the green water.In Pusitao, there is green grass for a while, and undulating mountains on the horizon for a while.This is the best vineyard producing area in Hungary, with luxuriant vines, and its wine production is second only to France, surpassing Italy and Spain.Its production is 20 million liters per year, almost entirely sold locally.To tell you the truth, I occasionally drank a few glasses at the hotel and on the boat, but compared to the bold Magyars, my drinking capacity inevitably pales in comparison.

It is worth mentioning that the planting method of Pusitao has been improved year by year.Many irrigation canals have been dug on the plain to ensure that the crops will be harvested steadily in the future.Millions of acacia trees have also been planted to form a long and dense wind barrier, which can withstand strong winds and is conducive to soil and water conservation.The yields of corn and tobacco, therefore, may soon be doubled or tripled. Unfortunately, land distribution in Hungary is irrational, and land is concentrated in the hands of a few people. Landlords with 100 square kilometers of land cannot fully reclaim the territory. On the contrary, a large number of owner farmers occupy less than one-third of the land. This situation is not good for both the country and the people, but it is gradually changing.Just from the perspective of historical development trend, this is also imperative.Moreover, Hungarian farmers are not conservative, they are brave and intelligent, full of confidence in the future.They may be a bit pompous, but they are much better than Germanic peasants.The fundamental difference between the two is that the former thinks that everything can be learned, while the latter thinks that everything is already known. From Grand on the right bank, I noticed that the scenery was completely different.The plains of Pusztau extend into distant mountains, offshoots of the Carpathians and the Alps of Norik, which narrow the course of the river, forcing it to flow through narrow passes and deepening its bed. Gland is the seat of the presidency of all Hungary.As far as the diocesan income is concerned among bishops and priests today, Grand is the highest among them.The cardinals, presiding bishops, papal legates, princes of the empire, and judges of the kingdom who served in this diocese each earned more than a million francs. After Grand, there is another plain.It must be admitted that the beauty of nature has such an alluring charm.Like everything it creates, it still obeys the natural laws of contrast. The Danube flows first to the east, then to the right, and then to the south,--which is basically the way it flows, no matter how winding its course--in Prussia. How varied and varied the landscape between Leisbourg and Grand is, and so desolate here. Here the "Matia Kovan" had to choose one of the tributaries on both sides of St. Andrew's Island, both of which were suitable for navigation.The boat took the left one, so that I could catch a glimpse of Weishen City with its six bell towers, and the reflection of a church on the water's edge in the light waves surrounded by green grass. The scenery here began to change again.The green cultivated land on the plain can be seen at a glance, and the boats on the river are constantly coming and going, and there is silence after the hustle and bustle.Obviously, we are approaching the capital, what a beautiful capital!Like two bright pearls, although they are not called the Big Dipper, they are still shining on the constellation of Hungary. The boat rounded the last tree-lined island.Saw Buda first, then Pest.I intend to take a break in the city from April 14th to the morning of the 17th.If you take a closer look at it right away, it will be tiring. A magnificent suspension bridge over the Danube connects Buda and Pest, like a hyphen between the Turkish city and the Magyar city - Buda first, Pest second.Ships go back and forth under the arch bridge. These ships have a flagpole erected on the bow, a wide rudder and a large wooden oar.Luxurious mansions with spires and bell towers line the quays along the shore. Buda is on the right bank, Pest is on the left, and the Danube, dotted with tree-shaded islands, surrounds the Hungarian city like a circular ribbon.Buda is adjacent to the plain, which is conducive to its future development in depth.On the other side of the city is a heavily guarded mountain, on which a gloomy castle is built. Buda originally belonged to Turkey, but now it has been Hungarianized and even Austrianized.The two cities, as the official capital of Hungary, have a total of 360,000 residents, of which Buda has 160,000.The city is an important military town, and its business is depressed.Don't be surprised if you see weeds growing in the streets and sidewalks.The residents in the city are mainly soldiers, and it looks like a dead city under siege.The national flags of many places fluttered, and green, white, and red silk banners fluttered in the wind.It looks lifeless and lifeless, while the city of Pest on the other side is full of vitality.It can be said that the Danube shuttles through Hungary's past and future. Although Buda has an arsenal, and there are many barracks in the city, one can also see several magnificent palaces.Standing in front of the old churches and mosques converted from cathedrals under the rule of the Ottoman Empire, I can't help but feel a lot of emotion.I walked along a wide avenue lined with houses with terraces and fences like Oriental buildings.I visited the city hall, surrounded by a tight yellow and black fence that looked more like a military fort than a military institution.I also visited Gul Baba's mausoleum, where Turkish pilgrims come to worship in an endless stream. Like most foreign tourists, I spend most of my time in Pest, and please believe me, this time is not wasted.I climbed the mountain at the end of the town of Dabao, which is located in the south of Buda, and overlooked the two sister cities.The majestic Danube flows through it, and the narrowest point is only 400 meters.There are several bridges over the river.One of the suspension bridges looks elegant, in stark contrast to the railway viaduct on Margaret Island.The piers along the coast of Pest, the surrounding squares, and the magnificent palaces and mansions are all vividly visible.Among the 36-square population of the two cities, Pest has more than 200,000 people.Resplendent domes and spiers soaring into the sky can be seen everywhere.It is not for nothing that the city of Pest is indeed majestic in its appearance, and people like it even more than Vienna. There are many villas built on the outskirts of the city, and the vast Labei Plain extends.In the past, the Hungarian knights held the National Assembly here, which caused a sensation. not enough!Two days is simply not enough time to thoroughly explore the Hungarian capital, a magnificent city known all over the world.Although time is tight, it is impossible not to browse the paintings and statues displayed in the National Museum, the inscriptions, ancient coins and priceless ethnographic collections in the Natural History Hall and the Prehistoric Antiquities Hall.In addition, a visit to Margaret Island is a must to see the island's groves, meadows, spas and gardens.A brook flows through it.Under the beautiful green shade, in tents, cafes and small restaurants, a group of well-dressed men and women are happily laughing and playing. Before leaving, I walked into a cafe in the city.The wooden walls are inlaid with gold and silver plating, and the colorful and dazzling.The halls and courtyards are full of small shrubs and clusters of flowers, especially roses and roses.The Magyars like to drink white wine mixed with iron-containing water.I ordered a glass, and I felt refreshed as soon as I drank the wine. After leaving the cafe, I wandered aimlessly in the streets and alleys.At this time, my eyes fell on an open newspaper.I picked it up mechanically, and the bold Gothic headline came into view: "Storitz's Birthday." This last name immediately caught my attention.Wasn't that the surname mentioned by the secretary-general of the Eastern Company, the name of Mira Rotelich's suitor, the surname of the famous chemist.There is no doubt about it. The newspaper carried this text: "In twenty days, on May 5th, the birthday of the late Otto Storitz will be celebrated in Spremberg. Citizens will flock to his hometown in droves , to mourn at his grave. As we all know, this outstanding scholar has won glory for Germany with his outstanding work performance, amazing discoveries, and his inventions, making the research in the field of physics advance by leaps and bounds. " The author of the article did not exaggerate.Oddo Storitz is quite famous in the scientific community, especially for his discovery and research of new light rays, which are now famous all over the world, and it would be a misnomer to call them X-rays. What struck me the most was the following passage: "Everyone knows that some scientists have supernatural tendencies, and Otto Storitz was regarded as a wizard during his lifetime. If he had been three or four centuries earlier, he would have been hunted down, arrested and sentenced for witchcraft , was burned alive in the square. After his death, many people, apparently out of superstition, regarded him as a charlatan with superhuman abilities. They secretly rejoiced that he took most of the secrets to the grave, and had reason to believe that The son did not inherit Lao Tzu's extraordinary scientific talents. But don't expect those kind-hearted people to open their eyes. In their minds, Odo Storitz is an out-and-out wizard and magician. A man possessed by demons !" Regardless of what others may think of Otto Storitz, I think the point is that Rothlich has categorically rejected his son's marriage proposal, and no longer has to worry about the harassment of his rival. The article continues: "Therefore, in addition to the loyal friends of Otto Storitz, this year, as in previous years, there will still be a large number of people attending the celebration of the chemist's birth. It can be inferred that the citizens of Spremberg, who are extremely superstitious We look forward to witnessing some kind of miracle. Now the city is full of rumors that the most incredible miracles will occur in the cemetery, the most bizarre and strange things. Even if the foundation stone explodes in the sky, and the ghost of the scholar is resurrected in a golden light, it will not happen. It would be jaw-dropping. Maybe some scourge is stalking his birthplace, who knows! … Finally, it is necessary to state that there are those who believe that Otto Storitz was not dead at all, and that on the day of the funeral, only an empty coffin was buried.It seems that it will take many years for reason to destroy these ridiculous nonsense. " After reading this report, I can't help but fall into deep thought.Otto Storitz is dead and buried in the ground, that is an undeniable fact.If his tomb will explode on May 5th, and he will appear like a new Christ resurrected before the eyes of the people, it is hard to imagine, but if the death of his father is an undeniable fact, it is equally certain. It was his son who was alive and well in the world, that is William Stolitz who was rejected by the Rothlich family.Will he cause trouble for Mark's marriage? ... "Forget it!" I said, throwing away the newspaper, "look where I was thinking! William Stolitz proposed to Mira...rejected...then never see him again. Since Mark I didn’t mention anything about it, so why am I so worried about it.” I sent for paper, pen, and ink, and wrote a letter to Marc, telling him that I left Perth the next day and arrived at Raz on the evening of the 23rd.This place is only 300 kilometers away from Raz.So far, I said, my journey had been smooth and without delay, and it seemed that the rest of the journey would be without incident.I did not forget to pay my respects to Mr. and Mrs. Rothlich, and to ask Mark to pass on my admiration for Miss Mira. At 8 o'clock the next day, "Matthias Govan" weighed anchor and set off. Naturally, from Vienna onwards, at every stop of the steamer, passengers came and went.Some disembarked at Pressburg, La Fort, Gland and Budapest, and some embarked at these piers. In the Austrian capital, there were only five or six passengers on board, among them British nationals. They passed through Belgrade, Bucharest, and went directly to black sea. When the "Matthias Govan" was moored in Perth, several new passengers were added to the ship, and one of them behaved very strangely, which attracted my attention. This man was about thirty-five years old, tall, with fiery red hair, a stern demeanor, stern eyes, and an appearance of repelling others thousands of miles away.He seemed to feel himself superior, defiant, and condescending.Many times I heard him speak to the crew in a grim, flat, obnoxious voice, even when he asked questions, in a very rough tone. The passenger seemed unwilling to deal with anyone.This has nothing to do with me, because I was alone along the way, and the captain was the only person I asked for information on the way. Looking at the man carefully, I can conclude that he is a German, and his ancestry is probably still in Prussia.If I am not mistaken, if he knew that I was French, he would have no more desire to befriend me than I would have been to him.Yes, he was a Prussian, with distinctly Germanic features, as it is often said.It was impossible to confuse him with the real Hungarian, the easy-going Magyars, who were true friends of the French people. After the ship left Budapest, it sailed smoothly on the river, so I could carefully watch the scenery on both sides of the river.We left the twin cities a few kilometers away, and when we reached Chippoll Island, the boat entered a tributary to the left. In the lower reaches of Pest, the Pusztau Plain miraculously appeared in front of the eyes. The green grassland and the gratifying crops on the outskirts of the city were eye-catching.The river is still dotted with shoals, covered with willow trees, and from a distance, only gray and white tree tops can be seen. The boat traveled 150 kilometers, took a rest at night, and then proceeded along the winding river.The weather was overcast and uncertain, and rain looked likely. On the night of the 19th, the ship reached the town of Schzetzzad, and I only caught a glimpse of its outline. The next day, the sky is clear and the weather is calm. It is estimated that we can reach Mohachi before dark. Nearly 9:00, I was about to enter the cabin when the German came out. He stared at me with strange eyes, which surprised me. This was the first time we met on a narrow road. His eyes were rude and full of anger. hate. What does this Prussian want?Maybe he just learned that I'm French?A thought flashed through my mind that he must have seen my suitcase on the cabin bench with my name on the lid: Henry Vidal, that's why he was so weird stared at me. Anyway, he knew my name, but I didn't bother to find out what it was, I had no interest in the man. When the "Matthias Gowan" arrived at Mohacs Wharf, it was already late.In this small town of ten thousand people, I saw only two spires in a cloud of shadows.But I went ashore anyway, and wandered about the town for an hour before boarding the boat. The next day, on the 21st, another 20 passengers came up.The boat set off just after dawn. That guy passed me several times on the deck that day, staring at me with that look on purpose.Obviously, I should not be treated like this.If this rude guy has something to say, he can just say it to me!Don't look at me with those eyes, if he doesn't understand French, I can answer him in his native language! I asked the captain if he knew the passenger. "It's the first time I've seen him," he replied. "Is he German?" I asked again. "Yes, Monsieur Vidal, I even think he's a double German—he might as well be a Prussian." "Single material is acceptable!" My answer seemed to suit the captain's taste, because he was Hungarian. In the afternoon, the ship arrived at Zobaum.But the city was too far from the left bank to be seen clearly.It was an important town with a population of no less than 80,000.It is located on the same wide peninsula as Szeged between the Danube and Tisza rivers.The Tisza is the largest tributary of the Danube, and it empties into the main channel 50 kilometers before Belgrade. The next day, the "Matthia Govan" sailed along the winding river to Vukovar on the right bank.Here, the Danube first flows south along the Slovenian border, then turns east.This area is spread over the military border zone.Behind the steep river bank, there are three steps and one post, five steps and one post, and the guards are strict.Mobile patrol posts kept them in touch, and they lived in simple wooden houses and outposts made of branches. This is a military control zone.All residents are called "frontier residents" and they are all soldiers.The divisions of provinces, counties, and parishes were replaced by the company, battalion, and regiment organization of this special force.This area stretches from the Adriatic Sea to the mountains of Transylvania, covering an area of ​​610 square miles and governing more than 1.1 million residents, who must abide by strict discipline.The establishment of this system can be traced back to before the rule of Mary De Laise. It can not only resist the invasion of Turkey, but also form a line of defense to prevent the influx of plague. I never saw the German on board the ship after it docked in Vukovar.He may have gone ashore.I got rid of his entanglement, and I also avoided a verbal dispute. Now, other things occupy my thoughts.In a few hours, the barge will arrive in Raz.What a joy it was to see my brother whom I had not seen for a year, hug him tightly, talk to him anecdotally, and get to know his new family! At around 5:00 p.m., several churches were hidden among the willow bushes on the left bank, and the silhouettes of the steeples and domes of the churches clearly appeared in the blue sky with white clouds floating. As the barge approached the pier slowly, a strange thing happened. I am standing on the left string, looking at the pier, most of the passengers have already crowded to the string.There were a lot of people crowded at the exit of the trestle pier.I believe Mark was among them. I was searching for Mark's figure carefully, when suddenly a voice sounded clearly in my ears, it was said in German: "If Mark Vidal marries Mira Rotelich, disaster will surely befall Mira! Mark will also suffer!" I turned around suddenly... There was no one else, but someone was talking to me, and the voice was very similar to that of the German who had disembarked. But no one, I repeat, no one!Although, I mistakenly thought that I heard this threat... it was just a hallucination... that's all... I carried the suitcase and shouldered the backpack and disembarked amidst the deafening roar of the ship.