I have rarely enjoyed traveling more than our first two days' journey
toward Prague. The range of the Erzgebirge ran along on our right; the
snow still lay in patches upon it, but the valleys between, with their
little clusters of white cottages, were green and beautiful. About six
miles before reaching Teplitz we passed Kulm, the great battlefield
which in a measure decided the fate of Napoleon. He sent Vandamme with
forty thousand men to attack the allies before they could unite their
forces, and thus effect their complete destruction. Only the almost
despairing bravery of the Russian guards under Ostermann, who held him
in check till the allied troops united, prevented Napoleon's design. At
the junction of the roads, where the fighting was hottest, the Austrians
have erected a monument to one of their generals. Not far from it is
that of Prussia, simple and tasteful. A woody hill near, with the little
village of Kulm at its foot, was the station occupied by Vandamme at
the commencement of the battle. There is now a beautiful chapel on its
summit which can be seen far and wide. A little distance farther the
Czar of Russia has erected a third monument, to the memory of the
Russians who fell. Four lions rest on the base of the pedestal, and on
the top of the shaft, forty-five feet high, Victory is represented as
engraving the date, "Aug. 30, 1813," on a shield. The dark pine-covered
mountains on the right overlook the whole field and the valley of
Torlitz; Napoleon rode along their crests several days after the battle
to witness the scene of his defeat.

Teplitz lies in a lovely valley, several miles wide, bounded by the
Bohemian mountains on one side and the Erzgebirge on the other. One
straggling peak near is crowned with a picturesque ruin, at whose foot
the spacious bath-buildings lie half hidden in foliage. As we went
down the principal street I noticed nearly every house was a hotel; we
learned afterward that in summer the usual average of visitors is five