ts inhabitants might be communicated to us. About seven
o'clock, on a bright July morning, we accordingly took our seats in a
hired carriage, and were swept along through what are called the Marxer
lines, beyond the outermost suburbs of the capital. The country round
was, for a while, uninteresting enough. A huge plain was before us,
which the heat of the weather had scorched into the semblance of a
desert; and there were few objects upon it, of which I can say that
they much relieved its monotony. Several villages came, indeed, in our
way, and near one of them, called Semmering, a large turreted building
attracted our attention. It had once been a summer residence of the
Emperor; it is now a powder-magazine, and stands, as our postilion
informed us, on the same spot which, during the siege of Vienna in
1529, was covered by the tent of the Sultan Solyman. But we had passed
this some time, ere the scenery began to improve. When such improvement
did commence, however, it was very complete. The road wound inwards so
as to bring us parallel with the river, and to open out a fine view of
its waters, which being split up into numerous branches, poured
themselves over the plain, and enclosed a countless number of islands
within their eddies. Among these, our postilion pointed out that on
which Napoleon, by the breaking down of his bridge, was, during the
progress of the battle of Asperne, reduced to the utmost extremity,--an
extremity out of which nothing but the misplaced confidence of his
opponents enabled him to escape. It is an extensive flat, covered along
its edges by groves of giant willows; while just beyond it, on the
continent, the village spires of Asperne and Essling peer forth from
amid screens of thick foliage.

From this period till our arrival at the Hungarian frontier, we never,
for any length of time, lost sight of the Danube. Here and there,
indeed, the road struck inwards, so as to carry us away, perhaps, an
English mile or more, from its banks; but the river, after it reunites,
is so broad, and the country rises over it to such a height, that its
noble expanse is seldom concealed from you, and that only for a moment.
Moreover, the monuments of other days,--old castles, dilapidated
towers, with here and there a rude pillar, or block of granite,--became,
at each post which we gained in advance, more and more numerous. Near
Schwaechat, for example, about ten English miles out of Vienna, and
itself a village o