THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
His two fine bays had lain down as soon as they reached the stable, one of them, as I learned later, never to rise again. Honor to his memory!
Petermann accompanied us on the further drive, which now proceeded with uninterrupted rapidity. In Neubrandenburg, as well as in Teterow, we changed horses, and by seven o'clock the next morning, the 8th of November, we arrived at the “White Cross Inn,” on the Neubrandenburg turnpike near the city of Rostock. Petermann went at once to fetch our friend Moritz Wiggers, whose turn it now was to take the management of affairs. Without delay he sent us in a wagon, accompanied by a Rostock merchant by the name of Blume, to Warnemünde, a seaside resort on a fine harbor, where we were cared for in Wöhlert's Hotel. Petermann, happy beyond measure, that his part of the adventure was so successfully accomplished, turned back to Strelitz. On our journey we had accustomed ourselves to call Kinkel by the name of Kaiser and me by the name of Hensel, and these names we inscribed upon the hotel register.
Wiggers had recommended Warnemünde to us as a place of patriarchal customs and conditions, where there existed police only in name and where the local authorities, if they should discover us, would make it their business to protect, rather than betray us. There, he thought, it would be safe to remain until a more secure asylum or a favorable opportunity to cross the sea could be found. From the shore of Warnemünde for the first time in my life I saw the sea. I had longed for that spectacle, but the first view of it was disappointing. The horizon appeared to me much narrower and the waves which rushed on white-capped, as the northeast wind drove them in, much smaller than I had pictured them in my imagination. I was soon to make better acquaintance with the sea and to learn to look at it with greater respect and higher enjoyment.
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