A Journey of a Jayhawker

In Short

This travelogue documents a 1905 European tour undertaken by a sharp-witted newspaper editor from Kansas. Traveling with his wife, he traverses Ireland, France, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, and England. Writing for his hometown audience back in Hutchinson, he captures the disconnect between the romanticized history of the Old World and the gritty, bureaucratic reality of early twentieth-century travel. The book has endured as a charming, unvarnished portrait of the "Grand Tour" seen through the skeptical, observant eyes of a pragmatic American who values his home above all.

The Story

The narrative begins with a sea voyage, where the author quickly discards his Kansas watch—and his illusions about the superiority of European travel—as he learns the rigid, tip-heavy hierarchy of ship life. Upon arriving in Ireland, his romantic expectations are immediately punctured by the stark poverty of the tenant farmers and the stifling presence of British police, fueling his first reflections on the harsh realities of land ownership.

Crossing into France, the author observes the "Sansculottes" legacy and the enduring, complicated reverence the French hold for Napoleon, noting that their political life is a volatile, disorganized affair that reminds him of a rowdy Kansas Populist convention. As he ventures into Italy, he adopts the role of the dutiful, if slightly exhausted, tourist. He dutifully catalogs miles of galleries and cathedrals, though he admits his feet ache at the mere mention of art. He finds the modern Italians a puzzling contrast to the ancient Romans whose history he comes to study, often wondering if the residents he sees are the true heirs to Caesar’s legacy.

In Switzerland and the Black Forest, the journey takes on a more mechanical tone. He marvels at the engineering of the Simplon Tunnel, a testament to modern industry that bridges the gap between ancient mountain passes and the coming age of rapid travel. He finds the Swiss to be the "Yankees of Europe"—industrious, occasionally swindling, and refreshingly modern. Moving into the German states, he recounts the minor but amusing legal battles he faces, such as the chaos caused when his wife crosses a train track in violation of imperial law.

As the couple concludes their journey in England, the tone shifts toward reflection. He explores the Tower of London and Warwick Castle, wrestling with the weight of history and the spectacle of the British monarchy. He notes that the "Age of Chivalry" has vanished, replaced by the commerce of modern cities like London. Throughout these final chapters, he weighs the grandeur of European history against the democratic ideals of home. He concludes that while Europe is a magnificent place to visit, its rigid social strata and stifling histories ultimately make him yearn for the open, unburdened landscapes of Kansas. He returns home with a reinforced sense of identity, ready to trade the castles of the Old World for the sunflowers of the prairie.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The author boards an ocean liner and immediately struggles with the ship’s elaborate system of "stewards," each demanding a tip for every specific duty. He realizes that even among the wealthy "400" on board, the conversation revolves around the same mundane topics of babies and clothes as it does in Kansas.

The Irish land question He visits the lush landscapes of Killarney, only to find a country hollowed out by emigration and controlled by absentee landlords. He notes the ironic presence of police stations on mountainsides, built not for protection, but to enforce strict laws against fishing and hunting.

The French experience In Paris, he observes the French people’s lingering, paradoxical love for the Bonaparte family and the tumultuous nature of their Chamber of Deputies. He finds the city beautiful but the politics as messy as any local Kansas meeting.

Art and exhaustion In Italy, he diligently tracks his progress through cathedrals and galleries with a pedometer, humorously feigning ecstasy to satisfy the expectations of his guidebook. He begins to see the "art center of the world" through the lens of a traveler who is frankly tired of marble and paint.

Railway adventures He navigates the complex railway systems of Germany and Italy, learning the hard way that "first-class" in Europe comes at a steep premium. He observes the strict, militaristic etiquette of the station-masters and conductors, contrasting it with the more informal American style.

Returning home The tour winds down in England, where the author reconciles his awe for royal history with his belief in American democratic meritocracy. He leaves for home, concluding that the true value of his travels was not in what he found abroad, but in the deepened appreciation for his own country.

The People

The author, W. Y. Morgan, serves as the steady, skeptical anchor of the book. He is a man of the press who values honesty over prestige and often uses his own confusion or exhaustion to deflate the pomposity of the tourist experience. His wife, Mrs. Morgan, is an intrepid and occasionally impulsive traveler; she provides a necessary spark of action, such as when she triggers a minor international incident by crossing a forbidden railroad track in Germany, forcing her husband to deal with the indignant station authorities. The local figures they encounter—the Irish tenant farmers, the Swiss innkeepers, and the London bank cashiers—act as foils to the author’s perspective. He views them with a mixture of curiosity and critical distance, often using them to highlight the cultural differences between the "Old World" and his own.

In Its Own Voice

"If I fall overboard I hope the proper steward will be around, for the system is so fine that I fear the other stewards would refuse to act until the proper steward could be called."

The author critiques the excessive departmentalization of ship staff during his Atlantic crossing.

"I have traveled through 171 miles of cathedrals, 56 miles of public buildings and 85 miles of art galleries—all in ten days."

Morgan describes his dutiful, if mechanical, approach to "doing" Italy for his guidebook.

"The queen is only 24 years old, but she looks 30; she wore a cheap-looking white suit which probably cost 30 cents a yard, American money."

He records his underwhelming, refreshingly unvarnished first impression of Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands.

What It's Really About

The central argument of the work is the resilience of the individual’s perspective when faced with the overwhelming weight of foreign tradition. It questions whether the "Grand Tour" is truly an educational endeavor or simply a series of social expectations to be satisfied. The author is deeply preoccupied with the value of democracy and the meritocracy he perceives in America, constantly comparing it to the rigid hierarchies of Europe. He argues that the greatness of a country is often manufactured by legend-writers and poets rather than inherent in the soil itself. Ultimately, the book is an exploration of the "modern" man’s place in a world that is still shackled to its medieval, monarchical past.

Why Read It Today

This book is a delightful artifact for readers who enjoy the "fish out of water" trope written with genuine, unpretentious wit. It feels like reading a candid letter from an old-fashioned, sharp-tongued friend who isn't trying to sell you a vacation, but rather telling you exactly how tiring and ridiculous a vacation can actually be.

Modern readers will find the author’s period attitudes—particularly his dismissive view of European monarchies and his casual, sometimes blunt, generalizations about other cultures—to be a stark reminder of the mindset of an early twentieth-century American journalist. While the pacing is occasionally dictated by the train schedules and cathedral visits of 1905, the prose remains brisk, confident, and consistently funny. You will love it if you appreciate honest travel writing that refuses to succumb to the romanticism of the era. It stays with you not because of the monuments described, but because of the author’s unwavering, humorous commitment to his own Kansas identity, proving that no matter how far one travels, one never quite leaves home behind.