A Visit to the Holy Land, Egypt, and Italy (2024)

This ebook was prepared by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset.

By Madame Ida Pfeiffer.

Translated from the German by H. W. Dulcken.

PREFACE BY THE VIENNA PUBLISHER

For two centuries the princes and nations of the West were accustomedto wander towards the land of the morning. In vain was the noblestblood poured forth in streams in the effort to wrest the country ofour heavenly Teacher from the grasp of the infidel; and though the ChristianEurope of the present day forbears to renew a struggle which, consideringthe strength that has been gradually increasing for the last six hundredyears, might prove an easy one, we cannot wonder that millions of thevotaries of Christianity should cherish an earnest longing to wanderin the paths the Redeemer has trod, and to view with their own eyesthe traces of the Saviour’s progress from the cradle to the grave.

In the generality of cases, however, the hardships, dangers, anddifficulties of such a journey were sufficient to overthrow the bravestresolution; and thus the wishes of the majority remained unfulfilled.

Few men were found to possess the degree of strength and endurancerequisite for the carrying out of such an undertaking; but that a delicatelady of the higher classes, a native of Vienna, should have the heroismto do what thousands of men failed to achieve, seemed almost incredible.

In her earliest youth she earnestly desired to perform this journey;descriptions of the Holy Land were perused by her with peculiar interest,and a book of Eastern travel had more charms for her than the most glowingaccounts of Paris or London.

It was not, however, until our Authoress had reached a riper age,and had finished the education of her sons, that she succeeded in carryinginto effect the ardent aspiration of her youth.

On the 2d of March, 1842, she commenced her journey alone, withoutcompanions, but fully prepared to bear every ill, to bid defiance toevery danger, and to combat every difficulty. That this undertakingshould have succeeded may almost be looked upon as a wonder.

Far from desiring publicity, she merely kept a diary, in order toretain the recollections of her tour during her later life, and to impartto her nearest relatives the story of her fortunes. Every evening,though often greatly exhausted with heat, thirst, and the hardshipsof travel, she never failed to make notes in pencil of the occurrencesof the day, frequently using a sand-mound or the back of a camel asa table, while the other members of the caravan lay stretched aroundher, completely tired out.

It was in the house of my friend Halm that I first heard of thisremarkable woman, at a time when she had not yet completed her journey;and every subsequent account of Madame Pfeiffer increased my desireto make her acquaintance.

In manners and appearance I found her to resemble many other womenwho have distinguished themselves by fortitude, firmness of soul, andmagnanimity; and who are in private life the most simple and unaffected,the most modest, and consequently also the most agreeable of beings.

My request to read our Authoress’s journal was granted withsome timidity; and I am ready to assert that seldom has a book so irresistiblyattracted me, or so completely fixed my attention from beginning toend, as this.

The simple and unadorned relation of facts, the candour, combinedwith strong sound sense, which appear throughout, might put to shamethe bombastic striving after originality of many a modern author.The scheme and execution of the work are complete and agreeable; stricttruth shines forth from every page, and no one can doubt but that sopure and noble a mind must see things in a right point of view.This circ*mstance is sufficient in itself to raise the book above manydescriptions of travel to the Holy Land, whose authors, trusting tothe fact that their assertions could not easily be disproved, have indulgedtheir fancy, seeking to impart interest to their works by the relationof imaginary dangers, and by exaggeration of every kind, for the sakeof gaining praise and admiration. Many such men might blush withshame on reading this journal of a simple, truth-loving woman.

After much trouble I succeeded in persuading the Authoress to allowher journal to appear in print.

My efforts were called forth by the desire to furnish the readingpublic, and particularly the female portion, with a very interestingand attractive, and at the same time a strictly authentic picture ofthe Holy Land, and of Madame Pfeiffer’s entire journey.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. Departure from Vienna—Sceneon board the steamer—Hainburg—Presburg—The “Coronation-mount”—Pesth—Ofen—Thesteamer Galata—Mohäcs—The fortress Peterwardein—Discomfortand bad management on board the steamer—Semlin—Belgrade—Pancsova—Austriansoldiers—The rock Babakay—Drenkova—Falls of Danube—Alt-Orsova—The“Iron Gate”—Cattle-breeding—Callafat—Vexatiousdelay

CHAPTER II. Giurgewo—Interior of thetown—Braila—Sanitary precautions—Galatz—Scarcityof good water—Ridiculous fear of the plague—The steamerFerdinand—Entrance into the Black Sea—Stormy weatherand sea-sickness—Arrival at Constantinople—Picturesque appearanceof the city—Mosques—The dancing Dervishes—The Sultanand his barge—Pera—The great and little Campo—Wilddogs—Dirty state of the streets—Preparations in case offire

CHAPTER III. Scutari—Kaiks—The howlingDervishes—The Achmaidon, or place of arrows—The tower inGalata—The bazaar at Constantinople—Mosques—Slave-market—Theold Serail—The Hippodrome—Coffee-houses—Story-tellers—Excursionto Ejub—Houses, theatres, and carriages

CHAPTER IV. Walks and drives of the townspeople—The“Sweet Waters”—Chalcedonia—Baluklid—Thegreat and little Campo—Feasts in Constantinople—Anniversaryof Mahomet’s death—Easter holydays of the Greeks—Gladiatorsand wrestlers—Excursion to Brussa—Olive-trees—Mosquesat Brussa—Stone bridge—Wild dogs—Baths and mineralsprings—Return to Constantinople

CHAPTER V. Contradictory reports—Departurefrom Constantinople on board the Archduke John—Scene onthe steamer—Galipoli—The Dardanelles—Tschenekalesiand Kilidil Bahar—The field of Troy—Tenedos—Smyrna—Halizar—Thedate-palm—Burnaba—The Acropolis—Female beauty—Rhodes—Strongfortifications—Deserted appearance of the town—Cyprus

CHAPTER VI. Arrival at Beyrout—Fellahs—Backsheesh—Uncomfortablequarters—Saida—Tyre—St. Jean d’Acre—Cæsarea—Excursionamong the ruins—Jaffa—An Eastern family—The Indianfig-tree—An Oriental dinner—Costume of the women of Jaffa—Oppressiveheat—Gnats—Ramla—Syrian convents—Bedouins andArabs—Kariet el Areb, or Emmaus—The scheikh—Arrivalat Jerusalem

CHAPTER VII. Residence at Jerusalem—Catholicchurch—The “Nuova Casa”—Via dolorosa—Pilate’shouse—The Mosque Omar—Herod’s house—Church ofthe Holy Sepulchre—Disturbances at the Greek Easter feasts—Knightsof the Holy Sepulchre—Mount of Olives—Adventure among theruins—Mount of Offence—Valley of Jehosaphat—Siloam—MountSion—Jeremiah’s Grotto—Graves

CHAPTER VIII. Bethlehem—Rachel’s grave—Conventat Bethlehem—Beggars—Grotto of the Nativity—Solomon’scisterns—St. John’s—Franciscan church at Jerusalem—Mourningwomen—Eastern weddings—Mish-mish—Excursion to theJordan and the Dead Sea—Wilderness near Jerusalem—Conventof St. Saba

CHAPTER IX. Ride through the wilderness tothe Dead Sea—The Dead Sea—The river Jordan—Horde ofBedouins—Arab horses—The Sultan’s well—Bivouacin the open air—Return to Jerusalem—Bethany—Departurefrom Jerusalem—Jacob’s grave—Nablus or Sichem—Sebasta—Costumeof Samaritan woman—Plain of Esdralon—Sagun

CHAPTER X. Arrival at Nazareth—Franciscanconvent—Tabarith—Mount Tabor—Lake of Gennesareth—Baths—MountCarmel—Grotto of the prophet Elijah—Acre—The pacha’sharem—Oriental women—Their listlessness and ignorance—Suror Tyre

CHAPTER XI. River Mishmir—Saida—Arnauts—Desert-path—Residenceof Lady Hester Stanhope—Beyrout—The consul’s—Uncomfortablequarters—Sickness—The Bazaar—Vexatious delays—Departurefrom Beyrout—Beautiful views—Syrian costumes—Damascus—Aspectof the city—House of the consul

CHAPTER XII. The bazaar at Damascus—The khan—Grottoof St. Paul—Fanaticism of the inhabitants—Departure fromDamascus—The desert—Military escort—Heliopolis orBalbeck—Stupendous ruins—Continuation of our voyage throughthe desert—The plague—The Lebanon range—Cedar-trees—Drusesand Maronites—Importunate beggars—Thievish propensitiesof the Arabs

CHAPTER XIII. The Lebanon—Druses and Maronites—Illnessof Herr Sattler—Djebel or Byblus—Rocky passes—Dog’s-river—Returnto Beyrout—Sickness—Departure for Alexandria—Rogueryof the captain—Disagreeables on board—Limasol—Alarmof pirates—Cowardice of the crew—Arrival at Alexandria

CHAPTER XIV. Alexandria—Keeping quarantine—Wantof arrangement in the quarantine-house—Bad water—Fumigatingof the rooms—Release—Aspect of the city—Departureby boat for Atfé—Mehemet Ali—Arrival at Atfé—Excellenceof the Nile water—Good-nature of the Arab women—The Deltaof the Nile—The Libyan desert—The pyramids—Arrivalat Cairo

CHAPTER XV. Cairo—Quarrel with thecaptain—Rapacity of the beggars—The custom-house—Theconsulate—Aspect of Cairo—Narrow and crowded streets—Costumes—Themad-house—Disgusting exhibition—Joseph’s well—Palaceof Mehemet Ali—Dates—Mosques at Cairo—Excursion tothe pyramids of Gizeh—Gizeh—Eggs hatched by artificial heat—Ascentof the pyramids—The sphynx—Return to Cairo

CHAPTER XVI. Christian churches at Cairo—TheEsbekie-square—Theatre—Howling dervishes—Mashdalansher,the birthday of Mahomet—Procession and religious ceremony—Shubra—Excursionthrough the desert to Suez—Hardships of the journey—Scenesin the desert—The camel—Caravans—Mirage—TheRed Sea—Suez—Bedouin Camp—Quarrel with the camel-driver—Departurefor Alexandria

CHAPTER XVII. Return to Alexandria—Egyptian burials—Catacombsof Alexandria—Viceroy’s palace—Departure from Alexandria—Thesteamer Eurotas—Candia—Syra—Paros and Antiparos—TheMorea—Fire on board—Malta—Quarantine—St. Augustine’schurch—Clergymen—Beggars—Costumes—Soldiers—CivitaVecchia

CHAPTER XVIII. The steamer Hercules—Syracuse—Neapolis—Ruins—Catanea—Conventof St. Nicholas—Messina—The Duke of Calabria—Palermo—Theroyal palace—Church of St. Theresa—St. Ignazio—Catacombsof the Augustine convent—Skeletons—Olivuzza—Royalvilla “Favorite”—St. Rosalia—Brutality of theItalian mob—Luxuriant vegetation—Arrival at Naples

CHAPTER XIX. Sojourn at Naples—Sickness—Lazinessof the people—Royal palace—Rotunda—Strada Chiaga andToledo—St. Carlo Theatre—Largo del Castello—MedinaSquare—Marionettes—St. Jesu Nuovo—St. Jesu Maggiore—St.Maria di Piedigrotta—Public gardens—Academy “degliStudii”—Cathedral of St. Januarius—St. Jeronimi—St.Paula Maggiore—St. Chiara—Baths of Nero—Solfatara—Grotto“del Cane”—Resina—Ascent of Vesuvius—Caserta

CHAPTER XX. Caserta—Costume of thepeasants—Rome—Piazza del Popolo—Dogana—St. Peter’s—Palaces—Borghese,Barberini, Colonna, etc.—Churches—Ancient Rome—TheColliseum—Departure for Florence—Bad weather—Picturesquescenery—Siena—Florence—Cathedral and palaces—Departurefrom Florence—Bologna—Ferrara—Conclusion

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1. JERUSALEM

2. NAZARETH

3. CHURCHYARD AT SCUTARI

4. THE DEAD SEA

5. MOUNT CARMEL

6. LEBANON

7. BALBECK

8. ISTHMUS OF SUEZ

CHAPTER I.

Departure from Vienna—Scene on board the steamer—Hainburg—Presburg—The“Coronation-mount”—Pesth—Ofen—The steamerGalata—Mohäcs—The fortress Peterwardein—Discomfortand bad management on board the steamer—Semlin—Belgrade—Pancsova—Austriansoldiers—The rock Babakay—Drenkova—Falls of the Danube—Alt-Orsova—The“Iron Gate”—Cattle-breeding—Callafat—Vexatiousdelay.

I had for years cherished the wish to undertake a journey to theHoly Land; years are, indeed, required to familiarise one with the ideaof so hazardous an enterprise. When, therefore, my domestic arrangementsat length admitted of my absence for at least a year, my chief employmentwas to prepare myself for this journey. I read many works bearingon the subject, and was moreover fortunate enough to make the acquaintanceof a gentleman who had travelled in the Holy Land some years before.I was thus enabled to gain much oral information and advice respectingthe means of prosecuting my dangerous pilgrimage.

My friends and relations attempted in vain to turn me from my purposeby painting, in the most glowing colours, all the dangers and difficultieswhich await the traveller in those regions. “Men,”they said, “were obliged gravely to consider if they had physicalstrength to endure the fatigues of such a journey, and strength of mindbravely to face the dangers of the plague, the climate, the attacksof insects, bad diet, etc. And to think of a woman’s venturingalone, without protection of any kind, into the wide world, across seaand mountain and plain,—it was quite preposterous.”This was the opinion of my friends.

I had nothing to advance in opposition to all this but my firm unchangingdetermination. My trust in Providence gave me calmness and strengthto set my house in every respect in order. I made my will, andarranged all my worldly affairs in such a manner that, in the case ofmy death (an event which I considered more probable than my safe return),my family should find every thing perfectly arranged.

And thus, on the 22d of March 1842, I commenced my journey from Vienna.

At one o’clock in the afternoon I drove to the Kaisermühlen(Emperor’s Mills), from which place the steamboats start for Pesth.I was joyfully surprised by the presence of several of my relationsand friends, who wished to say farewell once more. The partingwas certainly most bitter, for the thought involuntarily obtruded itself,“Should we ever meet again in this world?”

Our mournful meditations were in some degree disturbed by a louddispute on board the vessel. At the request of a gentleman present,one of the passengers was compelled, instead of flying, as he had intended,with bag and baggage to Hungary, to return to Vienna in company of thepolice. It appeared he owed the gentleman 1300 florins, and hadwished to abscond, but was luckily overtaken before the departure ofthe boat. This affair was hardly concluded when the bell rang,the wheels began to revolve, and too soon, alas, my dear ones were outof sight!

I had but few fellow-passengers. The weather was indeed fineand mild; but the season was not far enough advanced to lure travellersinto the wide world, excepting men of business, and those who had cosmopolitanideas, like myself. Most of those on board were going only toPresburg, or at farthest to Pesth. The captain having mentionedthat a woman was on board who intended travelling to Constantinople,I was immediately surrounded by curious gazers. A gentleman whowas bound to the same port stepped forward, and offered his servicesin case I should ever stand in need of them; he afterwards frequentlytook me under his protection.

The fine mild weather changed to cold and wind as we got fairly outinto the great Danube. I wrapped myself in my cloak, and remainedon deck, in order to see the scenery between Vienna and Presburg, which,no doubt, appears lovely enough when nature is clad in the garment ofspring; but now I only saw leafless trees and fallow ground—adreary picture of winter.

Hainburg with its old castle on a rock, Theben with its remarkablefortress, and farther on the large free city of Presburg, have all astriking appearance.

In three hours’ time we reached Presburg, and landed in theneighbourhood of the Coronation-hill, an artificial mound, on whichthe king must stand in his royal robes, and brandish his sword towardsthe four quarters of the heavens, as a token that he is ready to defendhis kingdom against all enemies, from whatever direction they may approach.Not far from this hill is situate the handsome inn called the “TwoGreen Trees,” where the charges are as high, if not higher, thanin Vienna. Until we have passed Pesth, passengers going down theriver are not allowed to remain on board through the night.

March 23d.

This morning we continued our journey at six o’clock.Immediately below Presburg the Danube divides into two arms, formingthe fertile island of Schütt, which is about forty-six miles longand twenty-eight in breadth. Till we reach Gran the scenery ismonotonous enough, but here it improves. Beautiful hills and severalmountains surround the place, imparting a charm of variety to the landscape.

In the evening, at about seven o’clock, we arrived at Pesth.Unfortunately it was already quite dark. The magnificent houses,or rather palaces, skirting the left bank of the Danube, and the celebratedancient fortress and town of Ofen on the right, form a splendid spectacle,and invite the traveller to a longer sojourn. As I had passedsome days at Pesth several years before, I now only stayed there forone night.

As the traveller must change steamers here, it behoves him to keepa careful eye upon the luggage he has not delivered up at the officein Vienna.

I put up at the “Hunting-horn,” a fine hotel, but ridiculouslyexpensive. A little back room cost me 45 kreutzers (about oneshilling and eightpence) for one night.

The whole day I had felt exceedingly unwell. A violent headache,accompanied by nausea and fever, made me fear the approach of a fitof illness which would interrupt my journey. These symptoms wereprobably a consequence of the painful excitement of parting with myfriends, added to the change of air. With some difficulty I gainedmy modest chamber, and immediately went to bed. My good constitutionwas luckily proof against the attacks of all enemies, and waking thenext morning, on

March 24th,

in tolerable health, I betook myself on board our new steamboat theGalata, of sixty-horse power: this boat did not, however, appearto me so tidy and neat as the Marianna, in which we had proceededfrom Vienna to Pesth. Our journey was a rapid one; at ten o’clockin the morning we were already at Feldvär, a place which seemsat a distance to be of some magnitude, but which melts away like a soap-bubbleon a nearer approach. By two o’clock we had reached Paks;here, as at all other places of note, we stopped for a quarter of anhour. A boat rows off from the shore, bringing and fetching backpassengers with such marvellous speed, that you have scarcely finishedthe sentence you are saying to your neighbour before he has vanished.There is no time even to say farewell.

At about eight o’clock in the evening we reached the market-townof Mohäcs, celebrated as the scene of two battles. The fortresshere is used as a prison for criminals. We could distinguish nothingeither of the fortress or the town. It was already night whenwe arrived, and at two o’clock in the morning of

March 25th

we weighed anchor. I was assured, however, that I had lostnothing by this haste.

Some hours afterwards, our ship suddenly struck with so severe ashock, that all hastened on deck to see what was the matter. Oursteersman, who had most probably been more asleep than awake, had giventhe ship an unskilful turn, in consequence of which, one of the paddleswas entangled with some trunks of trees projecting above the surfaceof the water. The sailors hurried into the boats, the engine wasbacked, and after much difficulty we were once more afloat.

Stopping for a few moments at Dalina and Berkara, we passed the beautifulruin of Count Palffy’s castle at about two o’clock.The castle of Illok, situate on a hill, and belonging to Prince Odescalchi,presents a still more picturesque appearance.

At about four o’clock we landed near the little free town ofNeusatz, opposite the celebrated fortress of Peterwardein, the outworksof which extend over a tongue of land stretching far out into the Danube.Of the little free town of Neusatz we could not see much, hidden asit is by hills which at this point confine the bed of the river.The Danube is here crossed by a bridge of boats, and this place alsoforms the military boundary of Austria. The surrounding landscapeappeared sufficiently picturesque; the little town of Karlowitz, lyingat a short distance from the shore, among hills covered with vineyards,has a peculiarly good effect. Farther on, however, as far as Semlin,the scenery is rather monotonous. Here the Danube already spreadsitself out to a vast breadth, resembling rather a lake than a river.

At nine o’clock at night we reached the city of Semlin, inthe vicinity of which we halted. Semlin is a fortified place,situated at the junction of the Save with the Danube; it contains 13,000inhabitants, and is the last Austrian town on the right bank of theDanube.

On approaching Semlin, a few small cannons were fired off on boardour boat. Unfortunately the steward did not receive notice ofthis event early enough to allow of his opening the windows, consequentlyone was shattered: this was a serious misfortune for us, as the temperaturehad sunk to zero, and all the landscape around was covered with snow.Before leaving Vienna, the cabin stove had been banished from its place,as the sun had sent forth its mild beams for a few days, and a continuanceof the warm weather was rashly relied on. On the whole, I wouldnot advise any traveller to take a second-class berth on board a steamerbelonging to the Viennese company. A greater want of order thanwe find in these vessels could scarcely be met with. The travellerwhose funds will not permit of his paying first-class fare will do betterto content himself with a third-class, i.e. a deck-passage, particularlyif he purposes journeying no farther than Mohäcs. If theweather is fine, it is more agreeable to remain on deck, watching thepanorama of the Danube as it glides past. Should the day be unfavourable,the traveller can go, without ceremony, into the second-class cabin,for no one makes a distinction between the second and third-class places.During the daytime, at any rate, it is quite as agreeable to remainon deck as to venture below. Travelling down the river from Pesth,the women are compelled to pass the night in the same cabin with themen; an arrangement as uncomfortable as it is indecorous. I afterwardshad some experience of steamers belonging to the Austrian Lloyds, onwhose vessels I always found a proper separation of the two sexes, anda due regard for the comfort of second-class passengers.

The cold was so severe, that we would gladly have closed every window,but for the close atmosphere engendered by the number of poor people,mostly Jews, who form the larger portion of passengers on board a Hungariansteamer. When the weather is unfavourable, these men are accustomedto hasten from their third-class places to those of the second class,where their presence renders it immediately desirable to open everyoutlet for purposes of ventilation. What the traveller has toendure on board these vessels would scarcely be believed. Uncushionedbenches serve for seats by day and for beds by night. A separationof the two sexes is nowhere attempted, not even on board the Ferdinand,in which you enter the Black Sea, and are exposed to the merciless attacksof sea-sickness.

Considering the high rate of passage-money demanded on this journey,I really think the traveller might expect better accommodation.The first-class to Constantinople costs 120 florins, {23}the second 85 florins, exclusive of provisions, and without reckoningthe hotel expenses at Presburg.

March 26th.

Last night was not a period of rest, but of noise for us travellers.Not one of us could close his eyes.

Semlin is a place of considerable importance as a commercial town:above 180 cwt. of goods were unloaded here from our vessel; and in exchangewe took on board coals, wood, and wares of various descriptions.The damaged wheel, too, had to be repaired; and every thing was donewith so much crashing and noise, that we almost imagined the whole steamerwas coming to pieces. Added to this, the cold wind drove in continuallythrough the broken pane, and made the place a real purgatory to us.At length, at six o’clock in the morning, we got afloat once more.One advantage, however, resulted from this fortuitous stoppage: we hada very good view of Belgrade, a town of 20,000 inhabitants, situateopposite to Semlin. It is the first Turkish fortified city inServia.

The aspect of Belgrade is exceedingly beautiful. The fortificationsextend upwards on a rock from the Danube in the form of steps.The city itself, with its graceful minarets, lies half a mile fartherinland. Here I saw the first mosques and minarets. The mosques,as far as I could observe from the steamer, are built in a circularform, not very high, and surmounted by a cupola flanked by one or twominarets, a kind of high round pillar. The loftiest among thesebuildings is the palace of Prince Milosch. From this point ourvoyage becomes very interesting, presenting a rich and varied successionof delightful landscape-views. The river is hemmed in on eitherside by mountains, until it spreads itself forth free and unrestrained,in the neighbourhood of Pancsova, to a breadth of 800 fathoms.

Pancsova, on the left bank of the Danube, in the territory of Banata,is a military station.

As the stoppages are only for a few moments, little opportunity isafforded of seeing the interior of the towns, or of visiting most ofthe places at which we touch. At such times all is hurry and confusion;suddenly the bell rings, the planks are withdrawn, and the unlucky strangerwho has loitered on board for a few moments is obliged to proceed withus to the next station.

At Neusatz this happened to a servant, in consequence of his carryinghis master’s luggage into the cabin instead of merely throwingit down on the deck. The poor man was conveyed on to Semlin, andhad to travel on foot for a day and a half to regain his home.A very pleasant journey of two hours from Pancsova brought us to theTurkish fortress sem*ndria, the situation of which is truly beautiful.The numerous angles of its walls and towers, built in the Moorish style,impart to this place a peculiar charm. As a rule, the Turkishfortresses are remarkable for picturesque effect.

But the villages, particularly those on the Servian shore, had thesame poverty-stricken look I had frequently noticed in Galicia.Wretched clay huts, thatched with straw, lay scattered around; and farand wide not a tree or a shrub appeared to rejoice the eye of the travelleror of the sojourner in these parts, under the shade of which the poorpeasant might recruit his weary frame, while it would conceal from theeye of the traveller, in some degree, the poverty and nakedness of habitationson which no feeling mind can gaze without emotions of pity.

The left bank of the river belongs to Hungary, and is called the“Banat;” it presents an appearance somewhat less desolate.Much, however, remains to be desired; and the poverty that reigns aroundis here more to be wondered at, from the fact that this strip of landis so rich in the productions of nature as to have obtained the nameof the “Garner of Hungary.”

On the Austrian side of the Danube sentries are posted at every twoor three hundred paces—an arrangement which has been imitatedby the governments on the left bank, and is carried out to the pointwhere the river empties itself into the Black Sea.

It would, however, be erroneous to suppose that these soldiers mountguard in their uniforms. They take up their positions, for a weekat a time, in their wretched tattered garments; frequently they arebarefoot, and their huts look like stables. I entered some ofthese huts to view the internal arrangements. They could scarcelyhave been more simple. In one corner I found a hearth; in another,an apology for a stove, clumsily fashioned out of clay. An unsightlyhole in the wall, stopped with paper instead of glass, forms the window;the furniture is comprised in a single wooden bench. Whateverthe inhabitant requires in the way of provisions he must bring withhim; for this he is allowed by the government to cultivate the land.

Throughout the Russian territory the soldiers at least wear uniform.

Our journey becomes more and more charming. Frequently themighty river rushes foaming and roaring past the rocks, which seem scarcelyto allow it a passage; at other times it glides serenely onwards.At every turn we behold new beauties, and scarcely know on which sideto turn our eager eyes. Meanwhile the ship sails swiftly on, glidingmajestically through wildly romantic scenery.

At one o’clock in the afternoon we reached Pasiest, where thereis nothing to be seen but a large store of coals for the steamers anda few huts. Of the town itself nothing can be distinguished.

A couple of miles below Pasiest we enjoy an imposing spectacle.It is the solitary rock Babakay, rising from the midst of the waters.Together with the beautiful ruin Golumbacz, on the Servian shore, itforms a magnificent view.

March 27th.

How unfortunate it is that all advantages are so seldom found combined!We are now travelling amid glorious scenery, which we hoped should recompenseus for the manifold discomforts we have hitherto endured; but the weatheris unpropitious. The driving snow sends us all into the cabin.The Danube is so fiercely agitated by the stormy wind, that it risesinto waves like a sea. We are suffering lamentably from cold;unable to warm ourselves, we stand gazing ruefully at the place wherethe stove stood—once upon a time.

At four o’clock we reached Drenkova without accident, but completelybenumbed: we hurried into the inn built by the steamboat company, wherewe found capital fare, a warm room, and tolerably comfortable beds.This was the first place we had reached since leaving Pesth at whichwe could thoroughly warm and refresh ourselves.

At Drenkova itself there is nothing to be seen but the inn just mentionedand a barrack for soldiers. We were here shewn the vessel whichwas wrecked, with passengers on board, in 1839, in a journey up theDanube. Eight persons who happened to be in the cabin lost theirlives, and those only who were on deck were saved.

March 28th.

Early in the morning we embarked on board the Tünte,a vessel furnished with a cabin. The bed of the Danube is heremore and more hemmed in by mountains and rocks, so that in some placesit is not above eighty fathoms broad, and glides with redoubled swiftnesstowards its goal, the Pontus Euxinus or Black Sea.

On account of the falls which it is necessary to pass, between Drenkovaand Fetislav, the steamer must be changed for a small sailing vessel.The voyage down the stream could indeed be accomplished without danger,but the return would be attended with many difficulties. The steamers,therefore, remain behind at Drenkova, and passengers are conveyed downthe river in barks, and upwards (since the accident of 1839)in good commodious carriages.

To-day the cold was quite as severe as it had been yesterday so thatbut for the politeness of a fellow-passenger, who lent me his bunda(great Hungarian fur), I should have been compelled to remain in thelittle cabin, and should thus have missed the most interesting pointsof the Danube. As it was, however, I wrapped myself from headto foot in the fur cloak, took my seat on a bench outside the cabin,and had full leisure to store my memory with a succession of lovelyscenery, presenting almost the appearance of a series of lake views,which continued equally picturesque until we had almost reached Alt-Orsova.

A couple of miles below Drenkova, near Islas, the sailors suddenlycried, “The first fall!” I looked up in a fever ofexpectation. The water was rising in small waves, the stream ransomewhat faster, and a slight rushing sound was to be heard. IfI had not been told that the Danube forms a waterfall here, I shouldcertainly never have suspected it to be the case. Between Lenzand Krems I did not find either the rocks or the power of the streammuch more formidable. We had, however, a high tide, a circ*mstancewhich diminishes both the danger of the journey and the sublimity ofthe view. The numerous rocky points, peering threateningly forthat low tide, among which the steersman must pick his way with greatcare, were all hidden from our sight. We glided safely over them,and in about twenty minutes had left the first fall behind us.The two succeeding falls are less considerable.

On the Austro-Wallachian side a road extends over a distance of fourteento sixteen miles, frequently strengthened with masonry, and at somepoints hewn out of the solid rock. In the midst of this road,on a high wall of rock, we see the celebrated “Veteran Cave,”one of the most impregnable points on the banks of the Danube.It is surrounded by redoubts, and is admirably calculated to commandthe passage of the river. This cave is said to be sufficientlyspacious to contain 500 men. So far back as the time of the Romansit was already used as a point of defence for the Danube. Somefive miles below it we notice the “Trajan’s Tablet,”hewn out of a protruding rock.

On the Turco-Servian side the masses of rock jut out so far intothe stream, that no room is left for a footway. Here the famousTrajan’s Road once existed. No traces of this work remain,save that the traveller notices, for fifteen or twenty miles, holescut here and there in the rock. In these holes strong trunks oftrees were fastened; these supported the planks of which the road issaid to have been formed.

At eleven in the forenoon we reached Alt-Orsova, the last Austriantown on the military frontier of Banata or Wallachia. We wereobliged to remain here for half a day.

The town has rather a pretty effect, being composed mostly of newhouses. The house belonging to the steamboat company is particularlyremarkable. It is not, however, devoted to the accommodation oftravellers, as at Drenkova. Here, as at Presburg and Pesth, eachpassenger is required to pay for his night’s expenses,—anarrangement which I could not help finding somewhat strange, inasmuchas every passenger is made to pay twice; namely, for his place on thesteamer and for his room in the inn.

It was Sunday when we arrived, and I saw many people proceeding tochurch. The peasants are dressed tolerably neatly and well.Both men and women wear long garments of blue cloth. The womenhave on their heads large handkerchiefs of white linen, which hang downtheir backs, and on their feet stout boots; the men wear round felthats, and sandals made of the bark of trees.

March 29th.

After having completely refreshed ourselves at the good inn calledthe “Golden Stag,” we this morning embarked on a new craft,the Saturnus, which is only covered in overhead, and is openon all sides.

So soon as a traveller has stepped upon this vessel he is lookedupon as unclean, and may not go on shore without keeping quarantine:an officer accompanied us as far as Galatz.

Immediately below Alt-Orsova we entirely quit the Austrian territory.

We are now brought nearer every moment to the most dangerous partof the river, the “Iron Gate,” called by the Turks Demirkaju. Half an hour before we reached the spot, the rushingsound of the water announced the perilous proximity. Numerousreefs of rocks here traverse the stream, and the current runs eddyingamong them.

We passed this dangerous place in about fifteen minutes. Here,at the Iron Gate, the high tide befriended us, as it did at the formerfalls.

I found these falls, and indeed almost every thing we passed, farbelow the anticipations I had formed from reading descriptions, frequentlyof great poetic beauty. I wish to represent every thing as I foundit, as it appeared before my eyes; without adornment indeed, but truly.

After passing the Iron Gate we come to a village, in the neighbourhoodof which some fragments of the Trajan’s Bridge can be discernedat low water.

The country now becomes flatter, particularly on the left bank, whereextend the immense plains of Wallachia, and the eye finds no objecton which it can rest. On the right hand rise terrace-like rowsof hills and mountains, and the background is bounded by the sharply-definedlines of the Balkan range, rendered celebrated by the passage of theRussians in 1829. The villages, scattered thinly along the banks,become more and more miserable; they rather resemble stables for cattlethan human dwellings. The beasts remain in the open fields, thoughthe climate does not appear to be much milder than with us in Austria;for to-day, nearly at the beginning of April, the thermometer stoodone degree below zero, and yesterday we had only five degrees of warmth(reckoning by Reaumur). {30}

The expeditious and easy manner in which cattle are here declaredto be free from the plague also struck me as remarkable. Whenthe creatures are brought from an infected place to one pronounced healthy,the ship is brought to some forty or fifty paces from the shore, andeach animal is thrown into the water and driven towards the bank, wherepeople are waiting to receive it. After this simple operationthe beasts are considered free from infectious matter.

Cattle-rearing seems to be here carried on to a considerable extent.Everywhere I noticed large herds of horned beasts and many buffaloes.Numerous flocks of goats and sheep also appear.

On the Saturnus we travelled at the most for two hours, after whichwe embarked, opposite the fortress of Fetislav, on board the steamerZriny.

At five o’clock in the evening we passed the fortress of Widdin,opposite which we stopped, in the neighbourhood of the town of Callafat.It was intended merely to land goods here, and then to proceed immediatelyon our voyage; but the agent was nowhere to be found, and so we poortravellers were made the victims of this carelessness, and compelledto remain here at anchor all night.

March 30th.

As the agent had not yet made his appearance, the captain had nochoice but to leave the steward behind to watch over the goods.At half-past six in the morning the engines were at length set in motion,and after a very agreeable passage of six hours we reached Nicopolis.

All the Turkish fortresses on the Danube are situated on the rightbank, mostly amid beautiful scenery. The larger towns and villagesare surrounded by gardens and trees, which give them a very pleasantappearance. The interior of these towns, however, is said notto be quite so inviting as one would suppose from a distant view, forit is asserted that dirty narrow streets, dilapidated houses, etc.,offend the stranger’s sight at every step. We did not landat any of these fortresses or towns; for us the right bank of the riverwas a forbidden paradise; so we only saw what was beautiful, and escapedbeing disenchanted.

Rather late in the evening we cast anchor opposite a village of nonote.

CHAPTER II.

Giurgewo—Interior of the town—Braila—Sanitaryprecautions—Galatz—Scarcity of good water—Ridiculousfear of the plague—The steamer Ferdinand—Entranceinto the Black Sea—Stormy weather and sea-sickness—Arrivalat Constantinople—Picturesque appearance of the city—Mosques—Thedancing Dervishes—The Sultan and his barge—Pera—Thegreat and little Campo—Wild dogs—Dirty state of the streets—Preparationsin case of fire.

March 31st.

We started early this morning, and at eight o’clock had alreadyreached Giurgewo. This town is situate on the left bank of theDanube, opposite the fortress of Rustschuk. It contains 16,000inhabitants, and is one of the chief trading towns of Wallachia.We were detained here until four o’clock in the afternoon; forwe had to unload above 600 cwt. of goods and eight carriages, and totake coals on board in exchange. Thus we had time to view theinterior of this Wallachian city.

With what disappointed surprise did my fellow-passengers view theugliness of this town, which from a distance promises so much!On me it made but little impression, for I had seen towns preciselysimilar in Galicia. The streets and squares are full of pits andholes; the houses are built without the slightest regard to taste orsymmetry, one perhaps projecting halfway across the street, while itsneighbour falls quite into the background. In some places woodenbooths were erected along each side of the street for the sale of thecommonest necessaries of life and articles of food, and these placeswere dignified by the name of “bazaars.” Curiosityled us into a wine-shop and into a coffee-house. In both of thesewe found only wooden tables and benches; there were hardly any guests;and the few persons present belonged to the humblest classes.Glasses and cups are handed to the company without undergoing the ceremonyof rinsing.

We purchased some eggs and butter, and went into the house of oneof the townspeople to prepare ourselves a dish after the German fashion.I had thus an opportunity of noticing the internal arrangements of ahouse of this description. The floor of the room was not boarded,and the window was only half glazed, the remaining portion being filledup with paper or thin bladder. For the rest, every thing was neatand simple enough. Even a good comfortable divan was not wanting.At four o’clock we quitted the town.

The Danube is now only broad for short distances at a time.It is, as it were, sown with islands, and its waters are therefore morefrequently parted into several streams than united into one.

In the villages we already notice Greek and Turkish costumes, butthe women and girls do not yet wear veils.

Unfortunately it was so late when we reached the fortress of Silistriathat I could see nothing of it. A little lower down we cast anchorfor the night. At an early hour on

April 1st

we sailed past Hirsova, and at two o’clock stopped at Braila,a fortress occupied by the Russians since the year 1828. Herepassengers were not allowed to land, as they were considered infectedwith the plague; but our officer stepped forward, and vouched for thefact that we had neither landed nor taken up any one on the right bankof the river; thereupon the strangers were allowed to set foot on terrafirma.

By four o’clock we were opposite Galatz, one of the most considerablecommercial towns, with 8000 inhabitants,—the only harbour theRussians possess on the Danube. Here we saw the first merchant-shipsand barques of all kinds coming from the Black Sea. Some sea-gullsalso, heralds of the neighbouring ocean, soared above our heads.

The scene here is one of traffic and bustle; Galatz being the placeof rendezvous for merchants and travellers from two quarters of theglobe, Europe and Asia. It is the point of junction of three greatempires—Austria, Russia, and Turkey.

After the officer had repeated his assurances as at Braila, we werepermitted to leave the ship. I had a letter of recommendationto the Austrian consul, who accidentally came on board; after readingmy letter he received me very kindly, and most obligingly procured quartersfor me.

The town promises much, but proves to be just such a miserable dirtyplace as Giurgewo. The houses are generally built of wood or clay,thatched with straw; those alone belonging to the consul and the richmerchants are of stone. The finest buildings are the Christianchurch and the Moldavian hotel.

Though Galatz lies on the Danube, water for drinking is a dear articleamong the inhabitants. Wells are to be found neither in the housesnor in the squares. The townspeople are compelled to bring allthe water they require from the Danube, which is a great hardship forthe poor people, and a considerable expense for the rich; in wintera small tub of water costs from 10 to 12 kreutzers (about 4d. or 5d.)in the more distant quarters of the town. At every corner youmeet water-carriers, and little wagons loaded with tubs of water.Attempts have frequently been made to procure this indispensable elementby digging; water has, indeed, in some instances gushed forth, but italways had a brackish taste.

In Galatz we made a halt of twenty-four hours: the delay was notof the most agreeable kind, as neither the town itself nor its environsoffer any thing worthy of remark. Still I always think of thesedays with pleasure. Herr Consul Huber is a polite and obligingman; himself a traveller, he gave me many a hint and many a piece ofadvice for my journey. The air of quiet comfort which reignedthroughout his house was also not to be despised by one who had justendured many days of privation; at Herr Huber’s I found reliefboth for body and mind.

April 2d.

The scenery round the town is so far from being inviting, that Idid not feel the least inclination to explore it. I thereforeremained in the town, and went up hill and down dale through the ill-pavedstreets. Coffee-houses appear in great abundance; but if it werenot for the people sitting in front of them drinking coffee and smokingtobacco, no one would do these dirty rooms the honour of taking themfor places of entertainment.

In the market and the squares we notice a great preponderance ofthe male sex over the female. The former are seen bustling aboutevery where, and, like the Italians, perform some duties which usuallyfall to the lot of the softer sex. We notice a mixture of themost different nations, and among them a particularly large number ofJews.

The bazaar is overloaded with southern fruits of all kinds.Oranges and lemons are seen here in great numbers, like the commonestof our fruits. The prices are of course very trifling. Thecauliflowers brought from Asia Minor are particularly fine. Inoticed many as large as a man’s head.

In the evening I was required to repair to the harbour and re-embark.

It is almost impossible to form an idea of the confusion which reignshere. A wooden railing forms the barrier between the healthy peopleand those who come from or intend travelling to a country infected withthe plague. Whoever passes this line of demarcation is not allowedto return. Soldiers, officers, government officials, and superintendents,the latter of whom are armed with sticks and pairs of tongs, stand atthe entrance to drive those forcibly back who will not be content withfair words. Provisions and other articles are either thrown overthe barrier or left in front of it. In the latter case, however,they may not be touched until the bearers have departed. A gentlemanon the “plague” side wished to give a letter to one on theother; it was immediately snatched from his hand and handed across bymeans of a pair of tongs. And all this time such a noise and hubbubis going on, that you can scarcely hear the sound of your own voice.

“Pray hand me over my luggage!” cries one. “Keepfarther away! don’t come near me, and mind you don’t touchme!” anxiously exclaims another. And then the superintendentskeep shouting—“Stand back, stand back!” etc.

I was highly entertained by this spectacle; the scene was entirelynew to me. But on my return, when I shall be one of the prisoners,I fear I may find it rather tedious. For this time I was not atall hindered in the prosecution of my journey.

On the whole, these timid precautions seemed to me exceedingly uncalledfor, particularly at a time when neither the plague nor any kind ofcontagious disease prevailed in Turkey. One of my fellow-passengershad been banished to our ship on the previous day because he had hadthe misfortune to brush against an official on going to see after hisluggage.

At seven o’clock the tattoo is beaten, the grating is shut,and the farce ends. We now repaired to the fourth and last steamer,the Ferdinand. From first to last we changed vessels sixtimes during a journey from Vienna to Constantinople; we travelled byfour steamers and twice in boats; a circ*mstance which cannot be reckonedamong the pleasures of a trip down the Danube.

Though not a large boat, the Ferdinand is comfortable andwell built. Even the second-class cabin is neatly arranged, anda pretty stove diffused a warmth which was peculiarly grateful to usall, as the thermometer showed only six to eight degrees above zero.Unfortunately even here the men and women are not separated in the second-classcabin; but care is at least taken that third-class passengers do notintrude. Twelve berths are arranged round the walls, and in frontof these are placed broad benches well cushioned.

April 3d.

At five o’clock in the morning we steamed out of the harbourof Galatz. Shortly afterwards basins and towels were handed tous; a custom totally unknown upon former vessels. For provisions,which are tolerably good, we are charged 1 fl. 40 kr. per diem.

Towards ten o’clock we reached Tehussa, a Bessarabian villageof most miserable appearance, where we stopped for a quarter of an hour;after which we proceeded without further delay towards the Black Sea.

I had long rejoiced in the expectation of reaching the Black Sea,and imagined that near its mouth the Danube itself would appear likea sea. But as it generally happens in life, “great expectations,small realisations,” so it was the case here also. At Galatzthe Danube is very broad; but some distance from its mouth it dividesitself into so many branches that not one of them can be termed majestic.

Towards three o’clock in the afternoon we at length enteredthe Black Sea.

Here the arms of the Danube rush forward from every quarter, drivingthe sea tumultuously back, so that we can only distinguish in the fardistance a stripe of green. For above an hour we glide on overthe yellow, clayey, strongly agitated fresh water, until at length theboundary is passed, and we are careering over the salt waves of thesea. Unfortunately for us, equinoctial gales and heavy weatherstill so powerfully maintained their sway, that the deck was completelyflooded with the salt brine. We could hardly stand upon our feet,and could not manage to reach the cabin-door, where the bell was ringingfor dinner, without the assistance of some sailors.

Several of the passengers, myself among the number, did little honourto the cook’s skill. We had scarcely begun to eat our soup,before we were so powerfully attacked by sea-sickness, that we wereobliged to quit the table precipitately. I laid myself down atonce, feeling unable to move about, or even to drag myself on deck toadmire the magnificent spectacle of nature. The waves frequentlyran so high as to overtop the flue of our stove, and from time to timewhole streams of water poured into the cabin.

April 4th.

Since yesterday the storm has increased considerably, so that weare obliged to hold fast by our cribs to avoid being thrown out.This misfortune really happened to one of the passengers, who was tooill to hold sufficiently tight.

As I already felt somewhat better, I attempted to rise, but was thrownin the same instant with such force against a table which stood opposite,that for a long time I felt no inclination to try again. Therewas not the slightest chance of obtaining any sleep all night.The dreadful howling of the wind among the masts and cordage, the fearfulstraining of the ship, which seemed as though its timbers were starting,the continual pitching and rolling, the rattling of the heavy cablesabove us, the cries, orders, and shouting of the captain and his sailors,all combined to form a din which did not allow us to enjoy a moment’srest. In the morning, ill as I felt myself, I managed to gainthe deck with the help of the steward, and sat down near the steersmanto enjoy the aspect of that grandest of nature’s phenomena—astorm at sea.

Holding tightly on, I bade defiance to the waves, which broke overthe ship and wetted me all over, as though to cool my feverish heat.I could now form a clear and vivid conception of a storm at sea.I saw the waves rush foaming on, and the ship now diving into an abyss,and anon rising with the speed of lightning to the peak of the highestwave. It was a thrilling, fearful sight;—absorbed in itscontemplation, I soon ceased to think of my sickness.

Late at night the violence of the storm abated in some degree; wecould now run in and cast anchor in the harbour of Varna, which underordinary circ*mstances we should have reached twelve hours sooner.

April 5th.

This morning I had leisure to admire this fine fortress-town, whichwas besieged and taken by the Russians in 1828. We remained hereseveral hours. The upper portion of the ship was here loaded withfowl of all descriptions, to such a degree that the space left for ustravellers was exceedingly circ*mscribed. This article of consumptionseems to be in great demand in Constantinople both among Turks and Franks;for our captain assured me that his vessel was laden with this kindof ware every time he quitted Varna, and that he carried it to Stamboul.

April 6th.

The shades of night prevented my seeing one of the finest sightsin the world, in anticipation of which I had rejoiced ever since mydeparture from Vienna—the passage through the Bosphorus.A few days afterwards, however, I made the excursion in a kaik (a verysmall and light boat), and enjoyed to my heart’s content viewsand scenes which it is totally beyond my descriptive power to portray.

At three o’clock in the morning, when we entered the harbourof Constantinople, every one, with the exception of the sailors, laywrapped in sleep. I stood watching on deck, and saw the sun risein its full glory over the imperial city, so justly and universallyadmired.

We had cast anchor in the neighbourhood of Topona; the city of citieslay spread out before my eyes, built on several hills, each bearinga separate town, and all blending into a grand and harmonious whole.

The town of Constantinople, properly speaking, is separated fromGalata and Pera by the so-called “Golden Horn;” the meansof communication is by a long and broad wooden bridge. Scutariand Bulgurlu rise in the form of terraces on the Asiatic shore.Scutari is surrounded, within and without, by a splendid wood of magnificentcypresses. In the foreground, on the top of the mountain, liethe spacious and handsome barracks, which can contain 10,000 men.

The beautiful mosques, with their graceful minarets—the palacesand harems, kiosks and great barracks—the gardens, shrubberies,and cypress-woods—the gaily painted houses, among which singlecypresses often rear their slender heads,—these, together withthe immense forest of masts, combine to form an indescribably strikingspectacle.

When the bustle of life began, on the shore and on the sea, my eyesscarcely sufficed to take in all I saw. The “Golden Horn”became gradually covered as far as the eye could reach with a countlessmultitude of kaiks. The restless turmoil of life on shore, thepassing to and fro of men of all nations and colours, from the paleinhabitant of Europe to the blackest Ethiopian, the combination of variedand characteristic costumes, this, and much more which I cannot describe,held me spell-bound to the deck. The hours flew past like minutes,and even the time of debarcation came much too early for me, thoughI had stood on deck and gazed from three o’clock until eight.

I found myself richly repaid for all the toils of my journey, andrejoiced in the sight of these wonderful Eastern pictures; I could onlywish I were a poet, that I might fitly portray the magnificent gorgeousnessof the sight.

To land at Topona, and to be immediately surrounded by hired servantsand hamaks (porters), is the fate of every traveller. The strangeris no longer master either of his will or his luggage. One manpraises this inn, the other that. {40}The porters hustle and beat each other for your effects, so that thecustom-house officers frequently come forward with their sticks to restoreorder. The boxes are then searched,—a ceremony which can,however, be considerably accelerated by a fee of from ten to twentykreutzers.

It is very advisable to fix on an hotel before leaving the boat.There are always passengers on board who are resident at Constantinople,or at least know the town well, and who are polite enough to give adviceon the subject to strangers. By this means you rid yourself atonce of the greedy servants, and need only tell a porter the name ofyour inn.

The inns for the Franks (a term used in the East to designate allEuropeans) are in Pera. I stayed at the hotel of Madame Balbiani,a widow lady, in whose house the guests are made comfortable in everyrespect. Clean rooms, with a beautiful view towards the sea, healthy,well-selected, and palatable fare, and good prompt attendance, are advantageswhich every one values; and all these are found at Madame Balbiani’s,besides constant readiness to oblige on the part of the hostess andher family. The good lady took quite a warm interest in me; andI can say, without hesitation, that had not my good fortune led me underher roof, I should have been badly off. I had several lettersof introduction; but not being fortunate enough to travel in great pompor with a great name, my countrymen did not consider it worth whileto trouble themselves about me.

I am ashamed, for their sakes, to be obliged to make this confession;but as I have resolved to narrate circ*mstantially not only all I saw,but all that happened to me on this journey, I must note down this circ*mstancewith the rest. I felt the more deeply the kindness of these strangers,who, without recommendation or the tie of country, took so hearty aninterest in the well-being of a lonely woman. I am truly rejoicedwhen an opportunity occurs of expressing my sincere gratitude for theagreeable hours I spent among them.

The distance from Vienna to Constantinople is about 1000 sea miles.

RESIDENCE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.—THE DANCING DERVISHES.

I arrived at Constantinople on a Tuesday, and immediately inquiredwhat was worth seeing. I was advised to go and see the dancingdervishes, as this was the day on which they held their religious exercisesin Pera.

As I reached the mosque an hour too soon, I betook myself in themeantime to the adjoining garden, which is set apart as the place ofmeeting of the Turkish women. Here several hundred ladies reclinedon the grass in varied groups, surrounded by their children and theirnurses, the latter of whom are all negresses. Many of these Turkishwomen were smoking pipes of tobacco with an appearance of extreme enjoyment,and drinking small cups of coffee without milk. Two or three friendsoften made use of the same pipe, which was passed round from mouth tomouth. These ladies seemed also to be partial to dainties: mostof them were well provided with raisins, figs, sugared nuts, cakes,etc., and ate as much as the little ones. They seemed to treattheir slaves very kindly; the black servants sat among their mistresses,and munched away bravely: the slaves are well dressed, and could scarcelybe distinguished from their owners, were it not for their sable hue.

During my whole journey I remarked with pleasure that the lot ofa slave in the house of a Mussulman is not nearly so hard as we believe.The Turkish women are no great admirers of animated conversations; stillthere was more talking in their societies than in the assemblies ofthe men, who sit silent and half asleep in the coffee-houses, languidlylistening to the narrations of a story-teller.

The ladies’ garden resembles a churchyard. Funeral monumentspeer forth at intervals between the cypresses, beneath which the visitorssit talking and joking cheerfully. Every now and then one wouldsuddenly start up, spread a carpet beside her companions, and kneeldown to perform her devotions.

As no one of the male sex was allowed to be present, all were unveiled.I noticed many pretty faces among them, but not a single instance ofrare or striking beauty. Fancy large brilliant eyes, pale cheeks,broad faces, and an occasional tendency to corpulence, and you havethe ladies’ portrait. Small-pox must still be rather prevalentin these parts, for I saw marks of it on many faces.

The Turkish ladies’ costume is not very tasteful. Whenthey go abroad, they are completely swathed in an upper garment, generallymade of dark merino. In the harem, or in any place where men arenot admitted, they doff this garment, and also the white cloth in whichthey wrap their heads and faces. Their costume consists, properlyspeaking, of very wide trousers drawn together below the ancle, a petticoatwith large wide sleeves, and a broad sash round the waist. Overthis sash some wear a caftan, others only a spencer, generally of silk.On their feet they wear delicate boots, and over these slippers of yellowmorocco; on their heads a small fez-cap, from beneath which their hairfalls on their shoulders in a number of thin plaits. Those Turks,male and female, who are descended from Mahomet, have either a greencaftan or a green turban. This colour is here held so sacred,that scarcely any one may wear it. I would even advise the Franksto avoid green in their dresses, as they may expose themselves to annoyanceby using it.

After I had had more than an hour’s leisure to notice all thesecirc*mstances, a noise suddenly arose in the courtyard, which produceda stir among the women. I considered from these appearances thatit was time to go to the temple, and hastened to join my party.A great crowd was waiting in the courtyard, for the Sultan was expected.I was glad to have the good fortune to behold him on the very day ofmy arrival. As a stranger, I was allowed, without opposition,a place in the front ranks,—a trait of good breeding on the partof the Turks which many a Frank would do well to imitate. In aTurk, moreover, this politeness is doubly praiseworthy, from the factthat he looks upon my poor sex with great disrespect; indeed, accordingto his creed, we have not even a soul.

I had only stood a few moments, when the Sultan appeared on horseback,surrounded by his train. He alone rode into the courtyard; theothers all dismounted at the gate, and entered on foot. The horseon which the Sultan rode was of rare beauty, and, as they told me, ofthe true Arabian breed; the saddle-cloth was richly embroidered withgold, and the stirrups, of the same precious metal, were in the formof shoes, covered with the finest chased work.

The Sultan is a slender slim-looking youth of nineteen years of age,and looks pale, languid, and blasé. His featuresare agreeable, and his eyes fine. If he had not abandoned himselfat so early an age to all the pleasures of the senses, he would, nodoubt, have grown up a stalwart man. He wore a long cape of dark-bluecloth; and a high fez-cap, with a heron’s plume and a diamondclasp, decked his head. The greeting of the people, and the Sultan’smode of acknowledging it, is exactly as at Vienna, except that herethe people at intervals raise a low cry of welcome.

As soon as the Sultan had entered the temple, all flocked in.The men and the Franks (the latter without distinction of sex) sit orstand in the body of the temple. The Turkish women sit in galleries,behind such close wire gratings that they are completely hidden.The temple, or more properly the hall, is of inconsiderable size, andthe spectators are only separated from the priests by a low railing.

At two o’clock the dervishes appeared, clad in long petticoatswith innumerable folds, which reached to their heels. Their headswere covered with high pointed hats of white felt. They spreadout carpets and skins of beasts, and began their ceremonies with a greatbowing and kissing of the ground. At length the music struck up;but I do not remember ever to have heard a performance so utterly horrible.The instruments were a child’s drum, a shepherd’s pipe,and a miserable fiddle. Several voices set up a squeaking andwhining accompaniment, with an utter disregard of time and tune.

Twelve dervishes now began their dance,—if indeed a turninground in a circle, while their full dresses spread round them like alarge wheel, can be called by such a name. They display much addressin avoiding each other, and never come in contact, though their stageis very small. I did not notice any “convulsions,”of which I had read in many descriptions.

The ceremony ended at three o’clock. The Sultan oncemore mounted his horse, and departed with his train and the eunuchs.In the course of the day I saw him again, as he was returning from visitingthe medical faculty. It is not difficult to get a sight of theSultan; he generally appears in public on Tuesdays, and always on Fridays,the holiday of the Turks.

The train of the young autocrat presents a more imposing appearancewhen he goes by water to visit a mosque, which he generally does onevery Friday. Only two hours before he starts it is announcedin which mosque he intends to appear. At twelve, at noon, theprocession moves forward. For this purpose two beautiful bargesare in readiness, painted white, and covered with gilded carvings.Each barge is surmounted by a splendid canopy of dark-red velvet, richlybordered with gold fringe and tassels. The floor is spread withbeautiful carpets. The rowers are strong handsome youths, cladin short trousers and jacket of white silk, with fez-caps on their heads.On each side of the ship there are fourteen of these rowers, under whosevigorous exertions the barge flies forward over wave and billow likea dolphin. The beautifully regular movements of the sailors havea fine effect. The oars all dip into the water with one stroke,the rowers rise as one man, and fall back into their places in the sameperfect time.

A number of elegant barges and kaiks follow the procession.The flags of the Turkish fleet and merchant-ships are hoisted, and twenty-onecannons thunder forth a salutation to the Sultan. He does notstay long in the mosque, and usually proceeds to visit a barrack orsome other public building. When the monarch goes by water tothe mosque, he generally returns also in his barge; if he goes by land,he returns in the same manner.

The most popular walks in Pera are “the great and little Campo,”which may be termed “burying-places in cypress-groves.”It is a peculiar custom of the Turks, which we hardly find among anyother nation, that all their feasts, walks, business-transactions, andeven their dwellings, are in the midst of graves. Every where,in Constantinople, Pera, Galata, etc., one can scarcely walk a few paceswithout passing several graves surrounded by cypresses. We wandercontinually between the living and the dead; but within four and twentyhours I was quite reconciled to the circ*mstance. During the night-timeI could pass the graves with as little dread as if I were walking amongthe houses of the living. Seen from a distance, these numerouscypress-woods give to the town a peculiar fairy-like appearance; I canthink of nothing with which I could compare it. Every where thetall trees appear, but the tombs are mostly hidden from view.

It took a longer time before I could accustom myself to the multitudeof ownerless dogs, which the stranger encounters at all corners, inevery square and every street. They are of a peculiarly hideousbreed, closely resembling the jackal. During the daytime theyare not obnoxious, being generally contented enough if they are allowedto sleep undisturbed in the sun, and to devour their prey in peace.But at night they are not so quiet. They bark and howl incessantlyat each other, as well as at the passers-by, but do not venture an attack,particularly if you are accompanied by a servant carrying a lanternand a stick. Among themselves they frequently have quarrels andfights, in which they sometimes lose their lives. They are extremelyjealous if a strange dog approaches their territory, namely the streetor square of which they have possession. On such an intruder theyall fall tooth and nail, and worry him until he either seeks safetyin flight or remains dead on the spot. It is therefore a rarecirc*mstance for any person to have a house-dog with him in the streets.It would be necessary to carry the creature continually, and even thena number of these unbidden guests would follow, barking and howlingincessantly. Neither distemper nor madness is to be feared fromthese dogs, though no one cares for their wants. They live oncarrion and offal, which is to be found in abundance in every street,as every description of filth is thrown out of the houses into the road.A few years ago it was considered expedient to banish these dogs fromConstantinople. They were transported to two uninhabited islandsin the Sea of Marmora, the males to one and the females to another.But dirt and filth increased in the city to such a degree, that peoplewere glad to have them back again.

The town is not lighted. Every person who goes abroad at nightmust take a lantern with him. If he is caught wandering withouta lantern by the guard, he is taken off without mercy to the nearestwatch-house, where he must pass the night. The gates of the cityare shut after sunset.

In proportion as I was charmed with the beautiful situation of Constantinople,so I was disgusted with the dirt and the offensive atmosphere whichprevail every where; the ugly narrow streets, the continual necessityto climb up and down steep places in the badly-paved roads, soon renderthe stranger weary of a residence in this city.

Worse than all is the continual dread of conflagration in which welive. Large chests and baskets are kept in readiness in everyhouse; if a fire breaks out in the neighbourhood, all valuable articlesare rapidly thrown into these and conveyed away. It is customaryto make a kind of contract with two or three Turks, who are pledged,in consideration of a trifling monthly stipend, to appear in the hourof danger, for the purpose of carrying the boxes and lending a helpinghand wherever they can. It is safer by far to reckon on the honestyof the Turks than on that of the Christians and Greeks. Instancesin which a Turk has appropriated any portion of the goods entrustedto his care are said to be of very rare occurrence. During thefirst nights of my stay I was alarmed at every noise, particularly whenthe watchman, who paraded the streets, happened to strike with his stickupon the stones. In the event of a conflagration, he must knockat every house-door and cry, “Fire, fire!” Heavenbe praised, my fears were never realised.

CHAPTER III.

Scutari—Kaiks—The howling Dervishes—The Achmaidon,or place of arrows—The tower in Galata—The Bazaar at Constantinople—Mosques—Slave-market—Theold Serail—The Hippodrome—Coffee-houses—Story-tellers—Excursionto Ejub—Houses, theatres, and carriages.

I chose a Friday for an excursion to Scutari, the celebrated burying-placeof the Turks, in order that I might have an opportunity of seeing the“howling dervishes.”

In company with a French physician, I traversed the Bosphorus ina kaik. {48}We passed by the “Leander’s Tower,” which stands inthe sea, a few hundred paces from the Asiatic coast, and has been sofrequently celebrated in song by the poets. We soon arrived atour destination.

It was with a peculiar feeling of emotion that for the first timein my life I set foot on a new quarter of the globe. Now, andnot till now, I seemed separated by an immeasurable distance from myhome. Afterwards, when I landed on the coast of Africa, the circ*mstancedid not produce the same impression on my mind.

Now at length I was standing in the quarter of the earth which hadbeen the cradle of the human race; where man had risen high, and hadagain sunk so low that the Almighty had almost annihilated him in hisrighteous anger. And here in Asia it was that the Son of God cameon earth to bring the boon of redemption to fallen man. My longand warmly-cherished wish to tread this most wonderful of the four quartersof the earth was at length fulfilled, and with God’s help I mightconfidently hope to reach the sacred region whence the true light ofthe world had shone forth.

Scutari is the place towards which the Mussulman looks with the hopeof one day reposing beneath its shade. No disciple of any othercreed is allowed to be buried here; and here, therefore, the Mahometanfeels himself at home, and worthy of his Prophet. The cemeteryis the grandest in the world. One may wander for hours throughthis grove of cypresses, without reaching the end. On the gravestonesof the men turbans are sculptured; on those of the women fruits andflowers: the execution is in most cases very indifferent.

Though neither the chief nor the tributary streets in Scutari areeven, they are neither so badly paved nor quite so narrow as those atPera. The great barracks, on a height in the foreground, presenta splendid appearance, and also afford a delicious view towards theSea of Marmora and the inimitably beautiful Bosphorus. The barracksare said to contain accommodation for 10,000 men.

THE HOWLING DERVISHES.

At two o’clock we entered the temple, a miserable wooden building.Every Mussulman may take part in this religious ceremony; it is notrequisite that he should have attained to the rank and dignity of adervish. Even children of eight or nine stand up in a row outsidethe circle of men, to gain an early proficiency in these holy exercises.

The commencement of the ceremony is the same as with the dancingdervishes; they have spread out carpets and skins of beasts, and arebowing and kissing the ground. Now they stand up and form a circletogether with the laymen, when the chief begins in a yelling voice torecite prayers from the Koran; by degrees those forming the circle joinin, and scream in concert. For the first hour some degree of orderis still preserved; the performers rest frequently to husband theirstrength, which will be exerted to the utmost at the close of the ceremony.But then the sight becomes as horrible as one can well imagine any thing.They vie with one another in yelling and howling, and torture theirfaces, heads, and bodies into an infinite variety of fantastic attitudes.The roaring, which resembles that of wild beasts, and the dreadful spasmodiccontortions of the actors’ countenances, render this religiousceremony a horrible and revolting spectacle.

The men stamp with their feet on the ground, jerk their heads backwardsand forwards, and certainly throw themselves into worse contortionsthan those who are described as having been in old times “vexedwith a devil.” During the exercise they snatch the coveringfrom their heads, and gradually take off all their clothes, with theexception of shirt and trousers. The two high priests who standwithin the circle receive the garments one after another, kiss them,and lay them on a heap together. The priests beat time with theirhands, and after the garments have been laid aside the dance becomesfaster and faster. Heavy drops of perspiration stand on everybrow; some are even foaming at the mouth. The howling and roaringat length reach such a dreadful pitch, that the spectator feels stunnedand bewildered.

Suddenly one of these maniacs fell lifeless to the ground.The priests and a few from the circle hurried towards him, stretchedhim out flat, crossed his hands and feet, and covered him with a cloth.

The doctor and I were both considerably alarmed, for we thought thepoor man had been seized with apoplexy. To our surprise and joy,however, we saw him about six or eight minutes afterwards suddenly throwoff the cloth, jump up, and once more take his place in the circle tohowl like a maniac.

At three o’clock the ceremony concluded. I would notadvise any person afflicted with weak nerves to witness it, for he certainlycould not endure the sight. I could have fancied myself amongraving lunatics and men possessed, rather than amidst reasonable beings.It was long before I could recover my composure, and realise the ideathat the infatuation of man could attain such a pitch. I was informedthat before the ceremony they swallow opium, to increase the wildnessof their excitement!

The Achmaidon (place of arrows) deserves a visit, on account of thebeautiful view obtained thence; the traveller should see it, if he benot too much pressed for time. This is the place which the Sultansometimes honours by his presence when he wishes to practise archery.

On an open space stands a kind of pulpit of masonry, from which theSultan shoots arrows into the air without mark or aim. Where thearrow falls, a pillar or pyramid is erected to commemorate the remarkableevent. The whole space is thus covered with a number of thesemonuments, most of them broken and weather-stained, and all scatteredin the greatest confusion. Not far from this place is an imperialkiosk, with a garden. Both promise much when viewed from a distance,but realise nothing when seen from within.

THE TOWER IN GALATA.

Whoever wishes to appreciate in its fullest extent the charm of theviews round Constantinople should ascend the tower in Galata near Pera,or the Serasker in Constantinople. According to my notion, theformer course is preferable. In this tower there is a room withtwelve windows placed in a circle, from which we see pictures such asthe most vivid imagination could hardly create.

Two quarters of the globe, on the shores of two seas united by theBosphorus, lie spread before us. The glorious hills with theirtowns and villages, the number of palaces, gardens, kiosks, and mosques,Chalcedon, the Prince’s Islands, the Golden Horn, the continualbustle on the sea, the immense fleet, besides the numerous ships ofother nations, the crowds of people in Pera, Galata, and Topana—allunite to form a panorama of singular beauty. The richest fancywould fail in the attempt to portray such a scene; the most practisedpen would be unequal to the task of adequately describing it.But the gorgeous picture will be ever present to my memory, though Ilack the power of presenting it to the minds of others.

Frequently, and each time with renewed pleasure, I ascended thistower, and would sit there for hours, in admiration of the works ofthe created and of the Creator. Exhausted and weary with gazingwas I each time I returned to my home. I think I may affirm thatno spot in the world can present such a view, or any thing that canbe compared with it. I found how right I had been in undertakingthis journey in preference to any other. Here another world liesunfolded before my view. Every thing here is new—nature,art, men, manners, customs, and mode of life. He who would seesomething totally different from the every-day routine of European lifein European towns should come here.

THE BAZAAR.

In the town of Constantinople we come upon a wooden bridge, large,long, and broad, stretching across the Golden Horn. The streetsof the town are rather better paved than those of Pera. In thebazaars and on the sea-coast alone do we find an appearance of bustle;the remaining streets are quiet enough.

The Bazaar is of vast extent, comprehending many covered streets,which cross each other in every direction and receive light from above.Every article of merchandise has its peculiar alley. In one allthe goldsmiths have their shops, in another the shoemakers; in thisstreet you see nothing but silks, in another real Cashmere shawls, etc.

Every dealer has a little open shop, before which he sits, and unceasinglyinvites the passers-by to purchase. Whoever wishes to buy or tolook at any thing sits down also in front of the booth. The merchantsare very good-natured and obliging; they always willingly unfold anddisplay their treasures, even when they notice that the person to whomthey are shewing them does not intend to become a purchaser. Ihad, however, imagined the display of goods to be much more varied andmagnificent than I found it; but the reason of this apparent povertyis that the true treasures of art and nature, such as shawls, preciousstones, pearls, valuable arms, gold brocades, etc., must not be soughtin the bazaars; they are kept securely under lock and key in the dwellingsor warehouses of the proprietors, whither the stranger must go if hewishes to see the richest merchandise.

The greatest number of streets occupied by the followers of any onetrade are those inhabited by the makers of shoes and slippers.A degree of magnificence is displayed in their shops such as a strangerwould scarcely expect to see. There are slippers which are worth1000 piastres {53}a pair and more. They are embroidered with gold, and ornamentedwith pearls and precious stones.

The Bazaar is generally so much crowded, that it is a work of noslight difficulty to get through it; yet the space in the middle isvery broad, and one has rarely to step aside to allow a carriage ora horseman to pass. But the bazaars and baths are the loungesand gossiping places of the Turkish women. Under the pretenceof bathing or of wishing to purchase something, they walk about herefor half a day together, amusing themselves with small-talk, love-affairs,and with looking at the wares.

THE MOSQUES.

Without spending a great deal of money, it is very difficult to obtainadmittance into the mosques. You are compelled to take out a firmann,which costs from 1000 to 1200 piastres. A guide of an enterprisingspirit is frequently sufficiently acute to inquire in the differenthotels if there are any guests who wish to visit the mosques.Each person who is desirous of doing so gives four or five colonati{54} to the guide,who thereupon procures the firmann, and frequently clears forty or fiftyguilders by the transaction. An opportunity of this descriptionto visit the mosques generally offers itself several times in the courseof a month.

I had made up my mind that it would be impossible to quit Constantinoplewithout first seeing the four wonder-mosques, the Aja Sofia, SultanAchmed, Osmanije, and Soleimanije.

I had the good fortune to obtain admittance on paying a very triflingsum; I think I should regret it to this day if I had paid five colonatifor such a purpose.

To an architect these mosques are no doubt highly interesting; toa profane person like myself they offer little attraction. Theirprincipal beauty generally consists in the bold arches of the cupolas.The interior is always empty, with the exception of a few large chandeliersplaced at intervals, and furnished with a large number of perfectlyplain glass lamps. The marble floors are covered with straw mats.In the Sofia mosque we find a few pillars which have been brought hitherfrom Ephesus and Baalbec, and in a compartment on one side several sarcophagiare deposited.

Before entering the mosque, you must either take off your shoes orput on slippers over them. The outer courts, which are open toall, are very spacious, paved with slabs of marble, and kept scrupulouslyclean. In the midst stands a fountain, at which the Mussulmanwashes his hands, his face, and his feet, before entering the mosque.An open colonnade resting on pillars usually runs round the mosques,and splendid plantains and other trees throw a delicious shade around.

The mosque of Sultan Achmed, on the Hippodrome, is surrounded bysix minarets. Most of the others have only two, and some few four.

The kitchens for the poor, situated in the immediate neighbourhoodof the mosques, are a very praiseworthy institution. Here thepoor Mussulman is regaled on simple dishes, such as rice, beans, cucumbers,etc., at the public expense. I marvelled greatly to find no crowdingat these places. Another and an equally useful measure is theerection of numerous fountains of clear good water. This is themore welcome when we remember that the Turkish religion forbids theuse of all spirituous liquors. At many of these fountains servantsare stationed, whose only duty is to keep ten or twelve goblets of shiningbrass constantly filled with this refreshing nectar, and to offer themto every passer-by, be he Turk or Frank. Beer-houses and wine-shopsare not to be found here. Would to Heaven this were every wherethe case! How many a poor wretch would never have been poor, andhow many a madman would never have lost his senses!

Not far from the Osmanije mosque is the

SLAVE-MARKET.

I entered it with a beating heart, and already before I had evenseen them, pitied the poor slaves. How glad, therefore, was Iwhen I found them not half so forlorn and neglected as we Europeansare accustomed to imagine! I saw around me friendly smiling faces,from the grimaces and contortions of which I could easily discover thattheir owners were making quizzical remarks on every passing stranger.

The market is a great yard, surrounded by rooms, in which the slaveslive. By day they may walk about in the yard, pay one anothervisits, and chatter as much as they please.

In a market of this kind we, of course, see every gradation of colour,from light brown to the deepest black. The white slaves, and themost beautiful of the blacks, are not however to be seen by every stranger,but are shut up in the dwellings of the traffickers in human flesh.The dress of these people is simple in the extreme. They eitherwear only a large linen sheet, which is wrapped round them, or somelight garment. Even this they are obliged to take off when a purchaserappears. So long as they are in the hands of the dealers, theyare certainly not kept in very good style; so they all look forwardwith great joy to the prospect of getting a master. When theyare once purchased, their fate is generally far from hard. Theyalways adopt the religion of their master, are not overburdened withwork, are well clothed and fed, and kindly treated. Europeansalso purchase slaves, but may not look upon them and treat them as such;from the moment when a slave is purchased by a Frank he becomes free.Slaves bought in this way, however, generally stay with their masters.

THE OLD SERAIL

is, of course, an object of paramount attraction to us Europeans.I betook myself thither with my expectations at full stretch, and oncemore found the reality to be far below my anticipations. The effectof the whole is certainly grand; many a little town would not coverso much ground as this place, which consists of a number of houses andbuildings, kiosks, and summer-houses, surrounded with plantains andcypress-trees, the latter half hidden amid gardens and arbours.Everywhere there is a total want of symmetry and taste. I sawsomething of the garden, walked through the first and second courtyard,and even peeped into the third. In the last two yards the buildingsare remarkable for the number of cupolas they exhibit. I saw afew rooms and large halls quite full of a number of European things,such as furniture, clocks, vases, etc. My expectations were sadlydamped. The place where the heads of pashas who had fallen intodisfavour were exhibited is in the third yard. Heaven be praised,no severed heads are now seen stuck on the palings.

I was not fortunate enough to be admitted into the imperial harem;I did not possess sufficient interest to obtain a view of it.At a later period of my journey, however, I succeeded in viewing severalharems.

THE HIPPODROME

is the largest and finest open place in Constantinople. Afterthose of Cairo and Padua, it is the most spacious I have seen any where.Two obelisks of red granite, covered with hieroglyphics, are the onlyornaments of this place. The houses surrounding it are built,according to the general fashion, of wood, and painted with oil-coloursof different tints. I here noticed a great number of pretty children’scarriages, drawn by servants. Many parents assembled here to lettheir children be driven about.

Not far from the Hippodrome are the great cisterns with the thousandand one pillars. Once on a time this gigantic fabric must havepresented a magnificent appearance. Now a miserable wooden staircase,lamentably out of repair, leads you down a flight of thirty or fortysteps into the depths of one of these cisterns, the roof of which issupported by three hundred pillars. This cistern is no longerfilled with water, but serves as a workshop for silk-spinners.The place seems almost as if it had been expressly built for such apurpose, as it receives light from above, and is cool in summer, andwarm during the winter. It is now impossible to penetrate intothe lower stories, as they are either filled with earth or with water.

The aqueducts of Justinian and Valentinian are stupendous works.They extend from Belgrade to the “Sweet Waters,” a distanceof about fourteen miles, and supply the whole of Constantinople witha sufficiency of water.

COFFEE-HOUSES—STORY-TELLERS.

Before I bade farewell to Constantinople for the present and betookme to Pera, I requested my guide to conduct me to a few coffee-houses,that I might have a new opportunity of observing the peculiar customsand mode of life of the Turks. I had already obtained some notionof the appearance of these places in Giurgewo and Galatz; but in thisimperial town I had fancied I should find them somewhat neater and moreornamental. But this delusion vanished as soon as I entered thefirst coffee-house. A wretchedly dirty room, in which Turks, Greeks,Armenians, and others sat cross-legged on divans, smoking and drinkingcoffee, was all I could discover. In the second house I visitedI saw, with great disgust, that the coffee-room was also used as a barber’sshop; on one side they were serving coffee, and on the other a Turkwas having his head shaved. They say that bleeding is sometimeseven carried on in these booths.

In a coffee-house of a rather superior class we found one of theso-called “story-tellers.” The audience sit roundin a half-circle, and the narrator stands in the foreground, and quietlybegins a tale from the Thousand and One Nights; but as he continueshe becomes inspired, and at length roars and gesticulates like the veriestranter among a company of strolling players.

Sherbet is not drunk in all the coffee-houses; but every where wefind stalls and booths where this cooling and delicious beverage isto be had. It is made from the juice of fruits, mixed with thatof lemons and pomegranates. In Pera ice is only to be had in thecoffee-houses of the Franks, or of Christian confectioners. Allcoffee-house keepers are obliged to buy their coffee ready burnt andground from the government, the monopoly of this article being an imperialprivilege. A building has been expressly constructed for its preparation,where the coffee is ground to powder by machinery. The coffeeis made very strong, and poured out without being strained, a customwhich I could not bring myself to like.

It is well worth the traveller’s while to make an

EXCURSION TO EJUB,

the greatest suburb of Constantinople, and also the place where therichest and most noble of the Turks are buried.

Ejub, the standard-bearer of Mahomet, rests here in a magnificentmosque, built entirely of white marble. None but a Mussulman maytread this hallowed shrine. A tolerably good view of the interiorcan, however, be obtained from without, as the windows are lofty andbroad, and reach nearly to the ground. The sarcophagus standsin a hall; it is covered with a richly embroidered pall, over whichare spread five or six “real” shawls. The part beneathwhich the head rests is surmounted by a turban, also of real shawls.The chief sarcophagus is surrounded by several smaller coffins, in whichrepose the wives, children, and nearest relations of Ejub. Hardby the mosque we find a beautiful fountain of white marble, surroundedby a railing of gilded iron, and furnished with twelve bright drinking-cupsof polished brass. A Turk here is appointed expressly to handthese to the passers-by. A little crooked garden occupies thespace behind the mosque. The mosques in which the dead sultansare deposited are all built in the same manner as that of Ejub.Instead of the turban, handsome fez-caps, with the heron’s feather,lie on the coffins. Among the finest mosques is that in whichrepose the remains of the late emperor. In Ejub many very costlymonuments are to be seen. They are generally surrounded by richly-giltiron railings, their peaks surmounted by the shining crescent, and formingan arch above a sarcophagus, round which are planted rose-bushes anddwarf cypresses, with ivy and myrtle clinging to their stems.It would, however, be very erroneous to suppose that the rich alonelie buried here. The poor man also finds his nook; and frequentlywe see close by a splendid monument the modest stone which marks theresting-place of the humble Mussulman.

On my return I met the funeral of a poor Turk. If my attentionhad not been attracted to the circ*mstance, I should have passed bywithout heeding it. The corpse was rolled in a cloth, fastenedat the head and at the feet, and laid on a board which a man carriedon his shoulder. At the grave the dead man is once more washed,wrapped in clean linen cloths, and thus lowered into the earth.And this is as it should be. Why should the pomp and extravaganceof man accompany him to his last resting-place? Were it not wellif in this matter we abated something of our conventionality and ostentation?I do not mean to say that interments need be stripped of every thinglike ornament; in all things the middle way is the safest. A simplefuneral has surely in it more that awakes true religious feeling thanthe pomp and splendour which are too frequently made the order of theday in these proceedings. In this case are not men sometimes ledaway to canvass and to criticise the splendour of the show, while theyshould be deducing a wholesome moral lesson for themselves, or offeringup a fervent prayer to the Almighty for the peace of the departed spirit?

HOUSES—THEATRES—CARRIAGES.

The houses in the whole of Constantinople, in which we may includePera, Topana, etc., are very slightly and carelessly put together.No door, no window, closes and fits well; the floorings frequently exhibitgaps an inch in breadth; and yet rents are very high. The reasonof this is to be found in the continual danger of fire to which alltowns built of wood are exposed. Every proprietor of a house calculatesthat he may be burnt out in the course of five or six years, and thereforeendeavours to gain back his capital with interest within this period.Thus we do not find the houses so well built or so comfortably furnishedas in the generality of European towns.

There is a theatre in Pera, which will hold from six to seven hundredspectators. At the time of my sojourn there, a company of Italiansingers were giving four representations every week. Operas ofthe most celebrated masters were here to be heard; but I attended onerepresentation, and had quite enough. The wonder is that suchan undertaking answers at all, as the Turks have no taste for music,and the Franks are too fastidious to be easily satisfied.

The carriages—which are, generally speaking, only used by women—areof two kinds. The first is in the shape of a balloon, finely paintedand gilt, and furnished with high wheels. On each side is an opening,to enter which the passenger mounts on a wooden stool, placed thereby the coachman every time he ascends or descends. The windowsor openings can be closed with Venetian blinds. These carriagescontain neither seats nor cushion. Every one who drives out takescarpets or bolsters with him, spreads them out inside the coach, andsits down cross-legged. A carriage of this description will holdfour persons. The second species of carriage only differs fromthat already described in having still higher wheels, and consistingof a kind of square box, covered in at the top, but open on all sides.The passengers enter at the back, and there is generally room for eightpersons. The former kind of vehicle is drawn by one horse in shafts,and sometimes by two; the latter by one or two oxen, also harnessedin shafts, which are, however, furnished in addition with a wooden archdecorated with flowers, coloured paper, and ribbons. The coachmanwalks on foot beside his cattle, to guide them with greater securitythrough the uneven ill-paved streets, in which you are continually eitherascending or descending a hill.

Wagons there are none; every thing is carried either by men, horses,or asses. This circ*mstance explains the fact that more portersare found here than in any other city. These men are agile andvery strong; a porter often bears a load of from one hundred to a hundredand fifty pounds through the rugged hilly streets. Wood, coals,provisions, and building-materials are carried by horses and asses.This may be one reason why every thing is so dear in Constantinople.

CHAPTER IV.

Walks and drives of the townspeople—The “Sweet Waters”—Chalcedonia—Baluklid—Thegreat and little Campo—Feasts in Constantinople—Anniversaryof Mahomet’s death—Easter holidays of the Greeks—Gladiatorsand wrestlers—Excursion to Brussa—Olive-trees—Mosquesat Brussa—Stone bridge—Wild dogs—Baths and mineralsprings—Return to Constantinople.

On Sundays and holydays the “Sweet Waters” of Europeare much frequented. One generally crosses the Golden Horn, intowhich the sweet water runs, in a kaik. There is, however, anotherway thither across the mountains.

A large grass-plat, surrounded by trees, is the goal towards whichthe heaving multitude pours. Here are to be seen people from allquarters of the globe, and of all shades of colour, reclining in perfectharmony on carpets, mats, and pillows, and solacing themselves, pipein mouth, with coffee and sweetmeats. Many pretty Jewesses, mostlyunveiled, are to be seen among the crowd.

On Friday, the holiday of the Turks, the scene in the Asiatic SweetWaters is just as animated; and here there is much more to interestus Europeans, as the company consists chiefly of Turks, male and female.The latter have, as usual, their faces covered: the most beautiful feature,the flaming eye, is, however, visible.

The trip across the sea to the Asiatic Sweet Waters is incomparablymore beautiful and interesting than the journey to the European.We travel up the Bosphorus, in the direction of the Black Sea, pastthe splendid new palace of the Sultan. Though this palace is chieflyof wood, the pillars, staircases, and the ground-floor, built of marbleof dazzling whiteness, are strikingly beautiful. The great gates,of gilded cast-iron, may be called masterpieces; they were purchasedin England for the sum of £8000. The roof of the palaceis in the form of a terrace, and round this terrace runs a magnificentgallery, built only of wood, but artistically carved. We alsopass the two ancient castles which command the approach to Constantinople,and then turn to the right towards the Sweet Waters. The situationof this place is most lovely; it lies in a beautiful valley surroundedby green hills.

Very interesting is also an excursion to Chalcedonia, a peninsulain the Sea of Marmora, on the Asiatic side, adjoining Scutari.We were rowed thither in a two-oared kaik in an hour and a quarter.The finest possible weather favoured our trip. A number of dolphinsgambolled around our boat; we saw these tame fishes darting to and froin all directions, and leaping into the air. It is a peculiarcirc*mstance with regard to these creatures, that they never swim separately,but always either in pairs or larger companies.

The views which we enjoy during these trips are peculiarly lovely.Scutari lies close on our left; the foreground is occupied by mountainsof moderate elevation; and above them, in the far distance, gleams thesnow-clad summit of Olympus. The uninhabited Prince’s Islandand the two Dog Islands are not the most picturesque objects to be introducedin such a landscape. To make up for the disadvantage of theirpresence we have, however, a good view of the Sea of Marmora, and canalso distinguish the greater portion of the city of Constantinople.

On Chalcedonia itself there is nothing to be seen but a lighthouse.Beautiful grass-plats, with a few trees and a coffee-house, are thechief points of attraction with the townspeople.

An excursion by sea to Baluklid is also to be recommended.You pass the entire Turkish fleet, which is very considerable, and seethe largest ship in the world, the “Mahmud,” of 140 guns,built during the reign of the late Sultan Mahmud. Several three-deckersof 120 guns, some of them unrigged, and many men-of-war mounting fromforty to sixty cannons, lie in the harbour. For an hour and ahalf we are riding through the Sea of Marmora, to the left of the greatquay which surrounds the walls of Constantinople. Here, for thefirst time, we see the giant city in all its magnificent proportions.We also passed the “Seven Towers,” of which, however, onlyfive remain standing; the other two, I was told, had fallen in.If these towers really answer no other purpose than that of prisonsfor the European ambassadors during tumults or in the event of hostilities,I think the sooner the remaining five tumble down the better; for theEuropean powers will certainly not brook such an insult from the Turks,now in the day of their decline.

We disembarked immediately beyond the “Seven Towers,”and walked for half an hour through long empty streets, then out atthe town-gate, where the cypress-grove for a time conceals from ourview a large open space on which is built a pretty Greek church.I was told that during the holidays at Easter such riotous scenes werehere enacted that broken heads were far from being phenomena of rareoccurrence. In the church there is a cold spring containing littlefishes. A legend goes, that on the high days at Easter these poorlittle creatures swim about half fried and yet alive, because once upona time, when Constantinople was besieged, a general said that it wasno more likely that the city could be taken than that fishes could swimabout half fried. Ever since that period the wonderful miracleof the fried fish is said to occur annually at Easter.

On our return to our kaik, we saw near the shore an enormous cuttle-fish,more than fourteen feet in length, which had just been taken and killed.A number of fishermen were trying with ropes and poles to drag the monsterashore.

The walks in the immediate neighbourhood of Pera are the great andlittle Campo, and somewhat farther distant the great bridge which unitesTopana with Constantinople; the latter is a most amusing walk, duringwhich we can view the life and bustle on both shores at the same time.In the little Campo are two Frankish coffee-houses, before which wesit quite in European fashion on handsome chairs and benches, listeningto pleasant music, and regaling ourselves with ices.

FEASTS IN CONSTANTINOPLE.

During my residence in Constantinople I had the good fortune to bepresent at some very entertaining festivities. The most magnificentof these took place on the 23d of April, the anniversary of Mahomet’sdeath.

On the eve of this feast we enjoyed a fairy-like spectacle.The tops of all the minarets were illuminated with hundreds of littlelamps; and as there are a great many of these slender spires, it canbe readily imagined that this sea of light must have a beautiful effect.The Turkish ships in the harbour presented a similar appearance.At every loop-hole a large lamp occupied the place of the muzzle ofthe cannon. At nine o’clock in the evening, salvoes werefired from the ships; and at the moment that the cannons were fired,the lamps vanished, flashes of light and gunpowder-smoke filled theair; a few seconds afterwards, as if by magic, the lamps had reappeared.This salute was repeated three times.

The morning of the 23d was ushered in by the booming of the cannon.All the Turkish ships had hoisted their flags, and garlands of colouredpaper were twined round the masts to their very tops.

At nine o’clock I proceeded in the company of several friendsto Constantinople, to see the grand progress of the Sultan to the mosque.As with us, it is here the custom to post soldiers on either side ofthe way. The procession was headed by the officers and governmentofficials; but after every couple of officers or statesmen followedtheir servants, generally to the number of twelve or fifteen persons,in very variegated costumes, partly Turkish, partly European, and withalsomewhat military; in fact, a perfect motley. Then came the Emperor’sstate-horses, splendid creatures, the majority of them of the true Arabianbreed, decorated with saddle-cloths richly embroidered with gold, pearls,and precious stones, and proudly moving their plumed heads. Theirspirited appearance and beautiful paces excited the admiration of allthe learned in such matters. They were followed by a number ofpages on foot; these pages are not, however, youths, as in other countries,but men of tried fidelity. In their midst rode the youthful Emperor,wrapped in his cape, and wearing in his fez-cap a fine heron’splume, buckled with the largest diamond in Europe. As the Sultanpassed by, he was greeted by the acclamations of the military, but notof the people. The soldiers closed the procession; but their bearingis not nearly so haughty as that of the horses. The reason ofthis is simple enough—no one dares look upon the Arabians withan evil eye, but the soldiers are entirely subject to the caprice oftheir officers. I would certainly rather be the Sultan’shorse than his soldier.

The uniforms of the officers, in their profusion of gold embroidery,resemble those of our hussars. The privates have very comfortablejackets and trousers of blue cloth with red trimmings; some have jacketsentirely of a red colour. The artillerymen wear red facings.Their chaussure is pitiable in the extreme: some have boots,not unfrequently decorated with spurs; others have shoes, trodden downat heel and terribly tattered; and some even appear in slippers.All are without stockings, and thus naked feet peer forth every where.The position of the men with regard to each other is just as irregular;a little dwarf may frequently be seen posted next to a giant, a boyof twelve or fourteen years near a grey-headed veteran, and a negrostanding next to a white man.

At this feast a great concourse of people was assembled, and everywindow was crowded with muffled female heads.

We had been advised not to be present at this ceremony, as it wasstated to be of a purely religious nature, and it was feared we shouldbe exposed to annoyance from the fanaticism of the Mussulmen.I am glad to say, however, that the curiosity of my party was strongerthan their apprehensions. We pushed through every where, and Ihad again occasion to feel assured that grievous wrong is frequentlydone the good Turks. Not only was there no appearance of a dispositionto annoy us, but we even obtained very good places without much trouble.

On their Easter days the Greeks have a feast in the great Campo.On all the three holidays, the hamaks (water-carriers and porters),after the service is over, march in large numbers to the Campo withsongs and music, with noise and shouting, waving their handkerchiefsin the air. Arrived at their destination, they divide into differentgroups, and proceed to amuse themselves much after the manner of othernations. A number of tents are erected, where a great deal ofcooking and baking is carried on. Large companies are sittingon the ground or on the tombstones, eating and drinking in quiet enjoyment.We see a number of swings laden with men and children; on this sidewe hear the squeaking of a bagpipe, on that the sound of a pipe anddrum, uttering such dismal music that the hearer instinctively putsa finger into each ear. To this music a real bear’s danceis going on. Six or eight fellows stand in a half circle roundthe musician, and two leaders of these light-toed clodhoppers continuallywave their handkerchiefs in the air as they stamp slowly and heavilyround in a circle. The women are allowed to appear at this feast,but may neither take part in the swinging nor in the dancing.They therefore keep up a brave skirmishing with the sweetmeats, coffee,and delicacies of all kinds. The more wealthy portion of the communityemploy these days in riding to Baluklid, to gaze and wonder at the miracleof the half-baked and yet living fishes.

As the Greeks are not so good-natured as the Turks, the latter seldomtake part in their festivities. Turkish women never appear onthese occasions.

On the 8th of May I saw a truly Turkish fête in theneighbourhood of the Achmaidon (place of arrows).

In a plain surrounded on all sides by hills, men of all nations formeda large but closely-packed circle. Kavasses (gens d’arme)were there to keep order among the people, and several officers satamong the circle to keep order among the kavasses. The spectaclebegan. Two wrestlers or gladiators made their appearance, completelyundressed, with the exception of trousers of strong leather. Theyhad rubbed themselves all over with oil, so that their joints mightbe soft and supple, and also that their adversary should not be ableto obtain a firm hold when they grappled together. They made severalobeisances to the spectators, began with minor feats of wrestling, andfrequently stopped for a few moments in order to husband their strength.Then the battle began afresh, and became hotter and hotter, till atlength one of the combatants was hailed as victor by the shouting mob.He is declared the conqueror who succeeds in throwing his opponent insuch a manner that he can sit down upon him as on a horse. A combatof this kind usually lasts a quarter of an hour. The victor walkstriumphantly round the circle to collect his reward. The unfortunatevanquished conceals himself among the spectators, scarcely daring tolift his eyes. These games last for several hours; as one pairof gladiators retire, they are replaced by another.

Greek, Turkish, and Armenian women may only be spectators of thesegames from a distance; they therefore occupy the adjoining heights.For the rest, the arrangements are the same as at the Greek Easter feast.People eat, drink, and dance. No signs of beer, wine, or liqueurare to be discovered, and consequently there is no drunkenness.

The Turkish officers were here polite enough to surrender the bestplaces to us strangers. I had many opportunities of noticing thecharacter of the Mussulman, and found, to my great delight, that heis much better and more honest than prejudices generally allow us tobelieve. Even in matters of commerce and business it is betterto have to do with a Turk than with a votary of any other creed, noteven excepting my own.

During my stay at Constantinople (from the 5th of April until May17th) I found the weather just as changeable as in my own country; somuch so, in fact, that the temperature frequently varied twelve or fourteendegrees within four-and-twenty hours.

EXCURSION TO BRUSSA.

The two brothers, Baron Charles and Frederick von Buseck, and HerrSattler, the talented artist, resolved to make an excursion to Brussa;and as I had expressed a similar wish, they were obliging enough toinvite me to make a fourth in their party. But when it came tothe point, I had almost become irresolute. I was asked by someone if I was a good rider; “for if you are not,” said myquestioner, “it would be far better for you not to accompany them,as Brussa is four German miles distant from Gemlek, and the road isbad, so that the gentlemen must ride briskly if they wish to reach thetown before sundown, starting as they would at half-past two in theafternoon, the general hour of landing at Gemlek. In the eventof your being unable to keep up with the rest, you would put them togreat inconvenience, or they will be compelled to leave you behind onthe road.”

I had never mounted a horse, and felt almost inclined to confessthe fact; but my curiosity to see Brussa, the beautiful town at thefoot of Olympus, gained the day, and I boldly declared that I had nodoubt I should be able to keep pace with my companions.

On the 13th of May we left Constantinople at half-past six in themorning, on board a little steamer of forty-horse power. Passingthe Prince’s and Dog Islands, we swept across the Sea of Marmoratowards the snow-crowned Olympus, until, after a voyage of seven hours,we reached Gemlek.

Gemlek, distant thirty sea miles from Constantinople, is a miserableplace, but nevertheless does some trade as the harbour of Bithynia.The agent of the Danube Navigation Company was civil enough to procureus good horses, and a genuine, stalwart, and fierce-looking Turkomanfor a guide. This man wore in his girdle several pistols and adagger; a long crooked scimitar hung at his side; and instead of shoesand slippers, large boots decked his feet, bordered at the top by awide stripe of white cloth, on which were depicted blue flowers andother ornaments. His head was graced by a handsome turban.

At half-past two o’clock the horses arrived. I swungmyself boldly upon my Rosinante, called on my good angel to defend me,and away we started, slowly at first, over stock and stone. Myjoy was boundless when I found that I could sit steadily upon my horse;but shortly afterwards, when we broke into a trot, I began to feel particularlyuncomfortable, as I could not get on at all with the stirrup, whichwas continually slipping to my heel, while sometimes my foot slid outof it altogether, and I ran the risk of losing my balance. Oh,what would I not have given to have asked advice of any one! Butunfortunately I could not do so without at once betraying my ignoranceof horsemanship. I therefore took care to bring up the rear, underthe pretence that my horse was shy, and would not go well unless itsaw the others before it. My real reason was that I wished tohide my manœuvres from the gentlemen, for every moment I expectedto fall. Frequently I clutched the saddle with both hands, asI swayed from side to side. I looked forward in terror to thegallop, but to my surprise found that I could manage this pace betterthan the trot. My courage brought its reward, for I reached thegoal of our journey thoroughly shaken, but without mishap. Duringthe time that we travelled at a foot-pace, I had found leisure to contemplatethe scenery around us. For half the entire distance we ride fromone valley into another; as often as a hill is reached, there is a limitedprospect before the traveller, who has, however, only to turn his head,and he enjoys a beautiful view over the Sea of Marmora. Aftera ride of two hours and a half we arrived at a little khan, {71a}where we rested for half an hour. Proceeding thence a short distance,we reached the last hills; and the great valley, at the end of whichBrussa is seen leaning against Olympus, lay stretched before our eagereyes, while behind us we could still distinguish, far beyond hill anddale, the distant sea skirting the horizon. Yet, beautiful asthis landscape undoubtedly is, I had seen it surpassed in Switzerland.The immense valley which lies spread out before Brussa is uncultivated,deserted, and unwatered; no carpet of luxuriant verdure, no rushingriver, no pretty village, gives an air of life to this magnificent andyet monotonous region; and no giant mountains covered with eternal snowlook down upon the plain beneath. Pictures like these I had frequentlyfound in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, and also near Salzburg. HereI saw, indeed, separate beauties, but no harmonious whole. Olympusis a fine majestic mountain, forming an extended barrier; but its heightcan scarcely exceed 6000 feet; {71b}and during the present month it is totally despoiled of its surfaceof glittering snow. Brussa, with its innumerable minarets, isthe only point of relief to which the eye continually recurs, becausethere is nothing beyond to attract it. A little brook, crossedby a very high stone bridge, but so shallow already in the middle ofMay as hardly to cover our horses’ hoofs; and towards Brussa,a miserable village, with a few plantations of olives and mulberry-trees,—arethe only objects to be discovered throughout the whole wide expanse.Wherever I found the olive-tree—here, near Trieste, and in Sicily,—itwas alike ugly. The stem is gnarled, and the leaves are narrowand of a dingy green colour. The mulberry-tree, with its luxuriantbright green foliage, forms an agreeable contrast to the olive.The silk produced in this neighbourhood is peculiarly fine in quality,and the stuffs from Brussa are renowned far and wide.

We reached the town in safety before sunset. It is one of themost disagreeable circ*mstances that can happen to the traveller toarrive at an Oriental town after evening has closed in. He findsthe gates locked, and may clamour for admittance in vain.

In order to gain our inn, we were obliged to ride through the greaterpart of the town. I had here an opportunity of observing thatit is just as unsightly as the interior of Constantinople. Thestreets are narrow, and the houses built of wood, plaster, and someeven of stone; but all wear an aspect of poverty, and at the same timeof singularity;—the gables projecting so much that they occupyhalf the width of the street, and render it completely dark, while theyincrease its narrowness. The inn, too, at which we put up, lookedfar from inviting when viewed from the outside, so that we had somedark misgivings respecting the quality of the accommodation that awaitedus. But in proportion as the outside had looked unpropitious,were we agreeably surprised on entering. A neat and roomy courtyard,with a basin of pure sparkling water in the midst, surrounded by mulberry-trees,was the first thing we beheld. Round this courtyard were two storiesof clean but simply-furnished rooms. The fare was good, and wewere even regaled with a bottle of excellent wine from the lower regionsof Olympus.

May 14th.

Next morning we visited the town and its environs, under the guidanceand protection of a kavasse. The town itself is of great extent,and is reported to contain above 10,000 houses, inhabited exclusivelyby Turks. The population of the suburbs, which comprise nearly4000 houses, is a mixed one of Christians, Jews, Greeks, etc.The town numbers three hundred and sixty mosques; but the greater portionof them are so insignificant and in such a dilapidated condition, thatwe scarcely observed them.

Strangers are here permitted to enter the mosques in company of akavasse. We visited some of the principal, among which the UllaDrchamy may decidedly be reckoned. The cupola of this mosque isconsidered a masterpiece, and rests upon graceful columns. Itis open at the top, thus diffusing a chastened light and a clear atmospherethroughout the building. Immediately beneath this cupola standsa large marble basin, in which small fishes swim merrily about.

The mosque of Sultan Mahomed I. and of Sultan Ildirim Bojasid mustalso be noticed on account of their splendid architecture; the latter,too, for the fine view which is thence obtained. In the mosqueof Murad I. visitors are still shewn weapons and garments which oncebelonged to that sultan. I saw none of the magnificent regal buildingsmentioned by some writers. The imperial kiosk is so simple inits appearance, that if we had not climbed the hill on which it standsfor the sake of the view, it would not have been worth the trouble ofthe walk.

A stone bridge, roofed throughout its entire length, crosses thebed of the river, which has very steep banks, but contains very littlewater. A double row of small cottages, in which silk-weavers liveand ply their trade, lines this bridge, which I was surprised to seehere, as its architecture seemed rather to appertain to my own countrythan to the East. During my whole journey I did not see a secondbridge of this kind, either in Syria or Egypt.

The streets are all very dull and deserted, a fact which is ratherremarkable in a town of 100,000 inhabitants. In most of the streetsmore dogs than men are to be seen. Not only in Constantinople,but almost in every Oriental town, vast numbers of these creatures runabout in a wild state.

Here, as every where, some degree of bustle is to be found in thebazaars, particularly in those which are covered in. Beautifuland durable silk stuffs, the most valuable of which are kept in warehousesunder lock and key, form the chief article of traffic. In thepublic bazaar we found nothing exposed for sale except provisions.Among these I remarked some small, very unpalatable cherries.Asia Minor is the fatherland of this fruit, but I did not find it inany degree of perfection either here or at Smyrna.

Brussa is peculiarly rich in cold springs, clear as crystal, whichburst forth from Mount Olympus. The town is intersected in alldirections by subterranean canals; in many streets, the ripple of thewaters below can be distinctly heard, and every house is provided withwells and stone basins of the limpid element; in some of the bazaarswe find a similar arrangement.

On a nearer approach, the appearance of Mount Olympus is not nearlyso grand as when viewed from a distance. The mountain is surroundedby several small hills, which detract from the general effect.

The baths, distant about a mile from the town, are prettily and healthfullysituated, and, moreover, abundantly supplied with mineral water.Many strangers resort thither to recruit their weakened frames.

The finest among these baths is called Jeni Caplidche. A loftycircular hall contains a great swimming bath of marble, above whichrises a splendid cupola. A number of refracting glasses (six hundred,they told me) diffuse a magic light around.

Our journey back to Constantinople was not accomplished entirelywithout mishap. One of the gentlemen fell from his horse and brokehis watch. The saddles and bridles of hired horses are here generallyin such bad condition that there is every moment something to buckleor to cobble up. We were riding at a pretty round pace, when suddenlythe girths burst, and the saddle and rider tumbled off together.I arrived without accident at my destination, although I had frequentlybeen in danger of falling from my horse without its being necessarythat the girth should break.

The gentlemen were satisfied with my performance, for I had neverlagged behind, nor had they once been detained on my account.It was not until we were safely on board the ship that I told them howventuresome I had been, and what terror I had undergone.

CHAPTER V.

Contradictory reports—Departure from Constantinople on boardthe Archduke John—Scene on the steamer—Galipoli—TheDardanelles—Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar—The field ofTroy—Tenedos—Smyrna—Halizar—The date-palm—Burnaba—TheAcropolis—Female beauty—Rhodes—Strong fortifications—Desertedappearance of the town—Cyprus.

The extremely unfavourable reports I heard from Beyrout and Palestinecaused me to defer my departure from day to day. When I appliedto my consul for a “firmann” (Turkish passport), I was stronglyadvised not to travel to the Holy Land. The disturbances on MountLebanon and the plague were, they assured me, enemies too powerful tobe encountered except in cases of the most urgent necessity.

A priest who had arrived from Beyrout about two months previouslyaffirmed positively that, in consequence of the serious disturbances,even he, known though he was far and wide as a physician, had not daredto venture more than a mile from the town without exposing himself tothe greatest danger. He advised me to stay in Constantinople untilthe end of September, and then to travel to Jerusalem with the Greekcaravan. This, he said, was the only method to reach that cityin safety.

One day I met a pilgrim in a church who came from Palestine.On my asking his advice, he not only confirmed the priest’s report,but even added that one of his companions had been murdered whilst journeyinghomeward, and that he himself had been despoiled of his goods, and hadonly escaped death through the special interposition of Providence.I did not at all believe the asseverations of this man; he related allhis adventures with such a Baron Munchausen air, assumed probably toexcite admiration. I continued my investigations on this subjectuntil I was at length fortunate enough to find some one who told anentirely different tale. From this I felt assured at least ofthe fact, that it would be almost impossible to learn the true stateof the case here in Constantinople, and at length made up my mind toavail myself of the earliest opportunity of proceeding as far as Beyrout,where there was a chance of my getting at the truth.

I was advised to perform this journey in male attire; but I did notthink it advisable to do so, as my short, spare figure would have seemedto belong to a youth, and my face to an old man. Moreover, asI had no beard, my disguise would instantly have been seen through,and I should have been exposed to much annoyance. I thereforepreferred retaining the simple costume, consisting of a kind of blouseand wide Turkish trousers, which I then wore. The further I travelled,the more I became persuaded how rightly I had acted in not concealingmy sex. Every where I was treated with respect, and kindness andconsideration were frequently shewn me merely because I was a woman.On

May 17th

I embarked on board a steamboat belonging to the Austrian Lloyd.It was called the Archduke John.

It was with a feeling of painful emotion that I stood on the deck,gazing with an air of abstraction at the preparations for the long voyagewhich were actively going on around me. Once more I was aloneamong a crowd of people, with nothing to depend on but my trust in Providence.No friendly sympathetic being accompanied me on board. All wasstrange. The people, the climate, country, language, the mannersand customs—all strange. But a glance upward at the unchangingstars, and the thought came into my soul, “Trust in God, and thouart not alone.” And the feeling of despondency passed away,and soon I could once more contemplate with pleasure and interest allthat was going on around me.

Near me stood a poor mother who could not bear to part with her son.Time after time she folded him in her arms, and kissed and blessed him.Poor mother! wilt thou see him again, or will the cold ground be a barrierbetween you till this life is past? Peace be with you both!

A whole tribe of people came noisily towards us;—they werefriends of the crew, who bounced about the ship from stem to stern,canvassing its merits in comparison with French and English vessels.

Suddenly there was a great crowding on the swinging ladder, of chests,boxes, and baskets. Men were pushing and crushing backwards andforwards. Turks, Greeks, and others quarrelled and jostled eachother for the best places on the upper deck, and in a few moments thewhole large expanse wore the appearance of a bivouac. Mats andmattresses were every where spread forth, provisions were piled up inheaps, and culinary utensils placed in order beside them; and beforethese preparations had been half completed the Turks began washing theirfaces, hands, and feet, and unfolding their carpets, to perform theirdevotions. In one corner of the ship I even noticed that a littlelow tent had been erected; it was so closely locked, that for a longtime I could not discern whether human beings or merchandise lay concealedwithin. No movement of the interior was to be perceived, and itwas not until some days afterwards that I was informed by a Turk whatthe tent really contained. A scheick from the Syrian coast hadpurchased two girls at Constantinople, and was endeavouring to concealthem from the gaze of the curious. I was for nine days on thesame vessel with these poor creatures, and during the whole time hadnot an opportunity of seeing either of them. At the debarcation,too, they were so closely muffled that it was impossible to discoverwhether they were white or black.

At six o’clock the bell was rung to warn all strangers to goashore; and now I could discover who were really to be the companionsof my journey. I had flattered myself that I should find severalFranks on board, who might be bound to the same destination as myself;but this hope waxed fainter and fainter every moment, as one Europeanafter another left the ship, until at length I found myself alone amongthe strange Oriental nations.

The anchor was now weighed, and we moved slowly out of the harbour.I offered up a short but fervent prayer for protection on my long anddangerous voyage, and with a calmed and strengthened spirit I couldonce more turn my attention towards my fellow-passengers, who havingconcluded their devotions were sitting at their frugal meal. Duringthe whole time they remained on the steamer these people subsisted oncold provisions, such as cheese, bread, hard-boiled eggs, anchovies,olives, walnuts, a great number of onions, and dried “mishmish,”a kind of small apricot, which instead of being boiled is soaked inwater for a few hours. In a sailing vessel it is usual to bringa small stove and some wood, in order to cook pilau, beans, fowls, andto boil coffee, etc. This, of course, is not allowed on boarda steamboat.

The beauty of the evening kept me on deck, and I looked with a regretfulfeeling towards the imperial city, until the increasing distance andthe soft veil of evening combined to hide it from my view, though atintervals the graceful minarets were still dimly discernible throughthe mist. But who shall describe my feelings of joy when I discovereda European among the passengers? Now I was no longer alone; inthe first moments we even seemed fellow-countrymen, for the barriersthat divide Europeans into different nations fall as they enter a newquarter of the globe. We did not ask each other, Are you fromEngland, France, Italy; we inquired, Whither are you going? and on itsappearing that this gentleman intended proceeding, like myself, to Jerusalem,we at once found so much to talk about concerning the journey, thatneither of us thought for a moment of inquiring to what country theother belonged. We conversed in the universal French language,and were perfectly satisfied when we found we could understand eachother. It was not until the following day that I discovered thegentleman to be an Englishman, and learned that his name was Bartlett.{79}

In Constantinople we had both met with the same fate. He hadbeen, like myself, unable to obtain any certain intelligence, eitherat his consul’s or from the inhabitants, as to the feasibilityof a journey to Jerusalem, and so he was going to seek further informationat Beyrout. We arranged that we would perform the journey fromBeyrout to Jerusalem in company,—if, indeed, we found it possibleto penetrate among the savage tribes of Druses and Maronites.So now I no longer stood unprotected in the wide world. I hadfound a companion as far as Jerusalem, the goal of my journey, whichI could now hope to reach.

I was well satisfied with the arrangements on board. I hadmade up my mind, though not without sundry misgivings, to take a second-classberth; and on entering the steamer of the Austrian Lloyd, I discoveredto my surprise how much may be effected by order and good management.Here the men and the women were separately lodged, wash-hand basinswere not wanting, we fared well, and could not be cheated when we paidfor our board, as the accounts were managed by the first mate: on theremaining steamers belonging to this company I found the arrangementsequally good.

Crossing the Sea of Marmora, we passed the “Seven Towers,”leaving the Prince’s Islands behind us on the left.

Early on the following day,

May 18th,

we reached the little town of Galipoli, situate on an eminence nearthe Hellespont. A few fragments of ruins in the last stage ofdilapidation cause us to think of the ages that have fled, as we speedrapidly on. We waited here a quarter of an hour to increase themotley assemblage on deck by some new arrivals.

For the next 20 miles, as far as Sed Bahe, the sea is confined withinsuch narrow bounds, that one could almost fancy it was a channel dugto unite the Sea of Marmora with the Archipelago. It is very appropriatelycalled the STRAIT of the Dardanelles. On the left we have alwaysthe mainland of Asia, and on the right a tongue of land belonging toEurope, and terminating at Sed Bahe. The shores on both sidesare desert and bare. It is a great contrast to former times, acontrast which every educated traveller must feel as he travels hitherfrom the Bosphorus. What stirring scenes were once enacted here!Of what deeds of daring, chronicled in history, were not these regionsthe scene! Every moment brought us nearer to the classic ground.Alas, that we were not permitted to land on any of the Greek Islands,past which we flew so closely! I was obliged, perforce, to contentmyself with thinking of the past, of the history of ancient Greece,without viewing the sites where the great deeds had been done.

The two castles of the Dardanelles, Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar,that on the Asiatic shore looking like a ruin, while its European neighbourwore the appearance of a fortress, let us steam past unchallenged.And how shall I describe the emotions I felt as we approached the plainsof Troy?

I was constantly on deck, lest I should lose any portion of the view,and scarcely dared to breathe when at length the long-wished-for plaincame in sight.

Here it is, then, that this famous city is supposed to have stood.Yonder mounds, perchance, cover the resting-places of Achilles, Patroclus,Ajax, Hector, and many other heroes who may have served their countryas faithfully as these, though their names do not live in the page ofhistory. How gladly would I have trodden the plain, there to museon the legends which in my youth had already awakened in me such deepand awe-struck interest, and had first aroused the wish to visit theselands—a desire now partially fulfilled! But we flew by withrelentless rapidity. The whole region is deserted and bare.It seems as if nature and mankind were mourning together for the daysgone by. The inhabitants may indeed weep, for they will neveragain be what they once were.

In the course of the day we passed several islands. In theforeground towered the peak of the Hydræ, shortly afterwards Samothracerose from the waves, and we sailed close by the island of Tenedos.At first this island does not present a striking appearance, but afterrounding a small promontory we obtained a view of the fine fortressskirting the sea; it seems to have been built for the protection ofthe town beyond.

After passing Tenedos we lost sight of the Greek islands for a shorttime (the mainland of Asia can always be distinguished on our left),but soon afterwards we reached the most beautiful of them all—Mytelene,which has justly been sung by many poets as the Island of the Fairies.For seven hours we glided by its coast. It resembles a gardenof olives, orange-trees, pomegranates, etc. The view is boundedat the back by a double row of peaked mountains, and the town lies nearlyin the midst. It is built in a circular form, round a hill, strengthenedwith fortifications. In front the town is girded by a strong wall,and in the rear extends a deep bay. A few masts peered forth andshewed us where the bay ended. From this point we saw numerousvillages prettily situated among the luxuriant shade of large trees.It must be a delightful thing to spend the spring-time on this island.

I remained on deck till late in the night, so charming, so rich invaried pictures of verdant isles is this voyage on the ÆgæanSea. Had I been a magician, I would have fixed the sun in theheavens until we had arrived at Smyrna. Unfortunately many a beauteousisland which we next morning contemplated ruefully on the map was hiddenfrom us by the shades of night.

May 19th.

Long before the sun was up, I had resumed my post on deck, to welcomeSmyrna from afar.

A double chain of mountains, rising higher and higher, warned usof our approach to the rich commercial city. At first we can onlydistinguish the ancient dilapidated castle on a rock, then the cityitself, built at the foot of the rock, on the sea-shore; at the backthe view is closed by the “Brother Mountains.”

The harbour is very spacious, but has rather the appearance of awharf, with room for whole fleets to anchor. Many ships were lyinghere, and there was evidently plenty of business going on.

The “Franks’ town,” which can be distinctly viewedfrom the steamer, extends along the harbour, and has a decidedly Europeanair.

Herr von Cramer had been previously apprised of my arrival, and wasobliging enough to come on board to fetch me. We at once rodeto Halizar, the summer residence of many of the citizens, where I wasintroduced to my host’s family.

Halizar is distant about five English miles from Smyrna. Theroad thither is beautiful beyond description, so that one has no timeto think about the distance. Immediately outside the town we passa large open place near a river, where the camels rest, and where theyare loaded and unloaded; I saw a whole herd of these animals.Their Arab or Bedouin drivers were reclining on mats, resting aftertheir labours, while others were still fully employed about their camels.It was a truly Arabian picture, and moreover so new to me, that I involuntarilystopped my long-eared Bucephalus to contemplate it at my leisure.

Not far from this resting-place is the chief place of rendezvousand pastime of the citizens. It consists of a coffee-booth anda few rows of trees, surrounded by numerous gardens, all rich in beautifulfruit-trees. Charming beyond all the rest, the flower of the pomegranate-treeshines with the deepest crimson among the green leaves. Wild oleandersbloomed every where by the roadside. We wandered through beautifulshrubberies of cypress-trees and olives, and never yet had I beheldso rich a luxuriance of vegetation. This valley, with its oneside flanked by wild and rugged rocks, in remarkable contrast to thefruitful landscape around, has a peculiar effect when viewed from thehill across which we ride. I was also much amazed by the numerouslittle troops of from six to ten, or even twenty camels, which sometimescame towards us with their grave majestic pace, and were sometimes overtakenby our fleet donkeys. Surrounded on all sides by objects at oncenovel and interesting, it will not be wondered at that I found the timepassing far too rapidly.

The heat is said not to be more oppressive at Smyrna during the summerthan at Constantinople. Spring, however, commences here earlier,and the autumn is longer. This fact, I thought, accounted forthe lovely vegetation, which was here so much more forward than at Constantinople.

Herr von Cramer’s country-house stands in the midst of a smilinggarden; it is spacious and built of stone. The large and loftyapartments are flagged with marble or tiles. In the garden I foundthe first date-palm, a beautiful tree with a tall slender stem, fromthe extremity of which depend leaves five or six feet in length, forminga magnificent crown. In these regions and also in Syria, whithermy journey afterwards led me, the date-palm does not attain so greata height as in Egypt, nor does it bear any fruit, but only stands asa noble ornament beside the pomegranate and orange trees. My attentionwas also attracted to numerous kinds of splendid acacias; some of thesegrew to an immense size, as high as the walnut-trees of my own country.

The villas of the townspeople all strongly resemble each other.The house stands in the midst of the garden, and the whole is surroundedby a wall.

In the evening I visited some of the peasants, in company with Herrvon C. This gentleman informed me that these people were verypoor, but still I found them decently clad and comfortably lodged inlarge roomy dwellings built of stone. Altogether, the conditionof affairs seems here vastly superior to that in Galicia and in Hungarynear the Carpathian mountains.

I reckoned the day I spent with this amiable family among the mostpleasant I had yet passed. How gladly would I have accepted theirhearty invitation to remain several weeks with them! But I hadlost so much time in Constantinople, that on the morning of

May 20th

I was compelled to bid adieu to Frau von C. and her dear children.Herr von C. escorted me back to Smyrna. We took the opportunityof roaming through many streets of the Franks’ quarter, whichI found, generally speaking, pretty and cheerful enough, and moreoverlevel and well paved. The handsomest street is that in which theconsuls reside. The houses are finely built of stone, and thehalls are tastefully paved with little coloured pebbles, arranged inthe form of wreaths, stars, and squares. The inhabitants generallytake up their quarters in these entrance-halls during the day, as itis cooler there than in the rooms. To nearly every house a prettygarden is attached.

The Turkish town is certainly quite different; it is built of wood,and is angular and narrow; dogs lie about in the streets, just as atBrussa and Constantinople. And why should it be otherwise here?Turks live in all this quarter, and they do not feel the necessity ofclean and airy dwellings like the fastidious Franks.

The bazaars are not roofed; and here also the costlier portion ofthe wares is kept under lock and key.

It is well worth the traveller’s while to make an excursionto Burnaba, a place lying on the sea-coast not far from the town, andserving, like Halizar, as a retreat for the townspeople during the summer.The views in this direction are various, and the road is good.The whole appearance of the place is that of a very extended village,with all its houses standing in the midst of gardens and surroundedby walls.

From the Acropolis we have a fine view in every direction, and find,in fact, a union of advantages only met with separately elsewhere.

In Smyrna I found the most beautiful women I had yet seen; and evenduring my further journey I met with few who equalled, and none whosurpassed them. These fairy forms are, however, only to be soughtamong the Greeks. The natural charms of these Graces are heightenedby the rich costume they wear. They have a peculiarly tastefulmanner of fastening their little round fez-caps, beneath which theirrich hair falls in heavy plaits upon their shoulders, or is wound witha richly embroidered handkerchief round the head and brow.

Smyrna is, however, not only celebrated as possessing the loveliestwomen, but also as the birthplace of one of the greatest men. {85}O Homer, in the Greece of to-day thou wouldst find no materials forthine immortal Iliad!

At five o’clock in the afternoon we quitted the harbour ofSmyrna. In this direction the town is seen to much greater advantageafter we have advanced a mile than when we approach it from Constantinople;for now the Turks’ town lies spread in all its magnitude beforeus, whereas on the other side it is half hidden by the Franks’quarter.

The sea ran high, and adverse winds checked the speed of our goodship; but I am thankful to say that, except when the gale is very strong,it does not affect my health. I felt perfectly well, and stoodenjoying the aspect of the waves as they came dancing towards our vessel.In Smyrna our company had been augmented by the arrival of a few moreFranks.

May 21st.

Yesterday evening and all this day we have been sailing among islands.The principal of these were Scio, Samos, and Cos, and even these forma desolate picture of bare, inhospitable mountains and desert regions.On the island of Cos alone we saw a neat town, with strong fortifications.

May 22d.

This morning, shortly after five o’clock, we ran into the superbharbour of Rhodes. Here, for the first time, I obtained a correctnotion of a harbour. That of Rhodes is shut in on all sides bywalls and masses of rock, leaving only a gap of a hundred and fiftyto two hundred paces in width for the ships to enter. Here everyvessel can lie in perfect safety, be the sea outside the bar as stormyas it may; the only drawback is, that the entering of this harbour,a task of some difficulty in calm weather, becomes totally impracticableduring a storm. A round tower stands as a protection on eitherside of the entrance to the harbour. The venerable church of St.John and the palace of the Komthur can be distinguished towering highabove the houses and fortifications.

Our captain imparted to us the pleasant intelligence that we mightspend the hours between this and three o’clock in the afternoonon shore. Our ship had for some time lain surrounded by littleboats, and so we lost no time in being conveyed to the land. Thefirst thing we did on reaching it was to ask questions concerning theancient site of the celebrated Colossus. But we could gain noinformation, as neither our books nor the people here could point outthe place to us with certainty; so we left the coast, to make up forthe disappointment by exploring the ancient city.

Rhodes is surrounded with three rows of strong fortifications.We passed over three drawbridges before entering the town. Wewere quite surprised to see the beautiful streets, the well-kept houses,and the excellent pavement. The principal street, containing thehouses of the ancient Knights of St. John, is very broad, with buildingsso massively constructed of stone as almost to resemble fortresses.Heraldic bearings, with dates carved in stone, grace many of the Gothicgateways. The French shield, with the three lilies and the date1402, occurs most frequently. On the highest point in the cityare built the church of St. John and the house of the governor.

All the exteriors seem in such good preservation, that one couldalmost fancy the knights had only departed to plant their victoriousbanner on the Holy Sepulchre. They have in truth departed—departedto a better home. Centuries have breathed upon their ashes, scatteredin all the regions of the earth. But their deeds have been chronicledboth in heaven and among men, and the heroes still live in the admirationof posterity.

The churches, the house of the governor, and many other buildings,are not nearly so well preserved inside as a first glance would leadus to imagine. The reason of this is that the upper part of thetown is but thinly inhabited. A gloomy air of silence and vacancyreigns around. We could wander about every where without beingstared at or annoyed by the vulgar and envious. Mr. Bartlett,the Englishman, made a few sketches in his drawing-book of some of thechief beauties, such as the Gothic gateways, the windows, balconies,etc., and no inhabitant came to disturb him.

The pavement in the city, and even in the streets around the fortifications,consists wholly of handsome slabs of stone, often of different colours,like mosaic, and in such good preservation that we could fancy the workhad been but recently concluded. This is certainly partly owingto the fact that no loaded wagon ever crushes over these stones, forthe use of vehicles is entirely unknown in these parts; every thingis carried by horses, asses, or camels.

Cannons dating from the time of the Genoese still stand upon theramparts. The carriages of these guns are very clumsy, the wheelsconsisting of round discs without spokes.

From our tower of observation we can form a perfect estimate of theextent and strength of the fortifications. The city is completelysurrounded by three lofty walls, which seem to have been calculatedto last an eternity, for they still stand almost uninjured in all theirglory. In some places images of the Virgin, of the size of life,are hewn out of the walls.

The neighbourhood of Rhodes is most charming, and almost resemblesa park. Many country houses lie scattered throughout this naturalgarden. The vegetation is here no less luxuriant than in Smyrna.

The architecture of the houses already begins to assume a new character.Many dwellings have towers attached, and the roofs are flat, formingnumerous terraces, which are all built of stone. Some streetsin the lower part of the town, inhabited chiefly by Jews, are borderedwith cannon-balls, and present a most peculiar appearance.

I was also much struck with the costumes worn by the country-people,who were dressed quite in the Swabian fashion. It was in vainthat I inquired the reason of this circ*mstance. The books wehad with us gave no information on the subject, and I could not askthe natives through my ignorance of their language.

By three o’clock in the afternoon we were once more on board,and an hour afterwards we sailed out into the open sea. To-daywe saw nothing further, except a high and lengthened mountain-rangeon the Asiatic mainland. It was a branch of the Taurus.The highest peaks glistened like silver in the evening light, envelopedin a garment of snow.

May 23d.

To-day our organs of vision had a rest, for we were sailing on thehigh seas. Late in the evening, however, the sailors descriedthe mountains of Cyprus looming in the far distance like a misty cloud.With my less practised eyes I could see nothing but the sunset at sea—aphenomenon of which I had had a more exalted conception. The risingand setting of the sun at sea is not nearly so striking a spectacleas the same phenomenon in a rocky landscape. At sea the sky isgenerally cloudless in the evening, and the sun gradually sinks, withoutrefraction of rays or prismatic play of colours, into its ocean-bed,to pursue its unchanging course the next day. How infinitely moregrand is this spectacle when seen from the “Rigi Kulm” inSwitzerland! There it is really a spectacle, in contemplatingwhich we feel impelled to fall on our knees in speechless adoration,and admire the wisdom of the Almighty in his wondrous works.

May 24th.

On mounting to the deck this morning at five o’clock I coulddistinguish the island of Cyprus, which looks uglier the nearer we approach.Both the foreground and the mountain-peaks have an uncomfortable barrenair. At ten o’clock we entered the harbour of Larnaka.The situation of this town is any thing but fine; the country lookslike an Arabian desert, and a few unfruitful date-palms rise besidethe roofless stone houses.

I should not have gone on shore at all, if Doctor Faaslanc, whoseacquaintance I had made at Constantinople, and who had been appointedquarantine physician here four weeks before my departure, had not cometo fetch me. The streets of Larnaka are unpaved, so that we wereobliged literally to wade more than ankle-deep in sand and dust.The houses are small, with irregular windows, sometimes high and sometimeslow, furnished with wooden grated shutters; and the roofs are in theform of terraces. This style of building I found to be universalthroughout Syria.

Of a garden or a green place not a trace was to be seen. Thesandy expanse reaches to the foot of the mountains, which viewed fromthis direction form an equally barren picture. Behind these mountainsthe appearance of the landscape is said to be very fruitful; but I didnot penetrate into the interior, nor did I go to Nikosia, the capitalof the island, distant some twelve miles from Larnaka.

Doctor Faaslanc took me to his house, which had an appearance ofgreater comfort than I had expected to find, for it consisted of twospacious rooms which might almost have been termed halls. An agreeablecoolness reigned every where.

Neither stoves nor chimneys were to be seen, as winter is here replacedby a very mild rainy season. The heat in summer is often saidto be insupportable, the temperature rising to more than 36° Reaumur.To-day it reached 30° in the sun.

We drank to my safe return to my country, in real old Cyprian wine.Shall I ever see it again? I hope so, if my journey progressesas favourably as it has begun. But Syria is a bad country, andthe climate is difficult to bear; yet with courage and perseverancefor my companions, I may look forward to the accomplishment of my task.The good doctor seemed much annoyed that he had nothing to offer mebut Cyprian wine and a few German biscuits. At this early seasonfruit is not to be had, and cherries do not flourish here because theclimate is too hot for them. In Smyrna I ate the last for thisyear. When I re-embarked in the afternoon, Mr. Bartlett came withthe English consul, who wished, he said, to make the acquaintance ofa lady possessing sufficient courage to undertake so long and perilousa journey by herself. His astonishment increased when he was informedthat I was an unpretending native of Vienna. The consul was kindenough to offer me the use of his house if I returned by way of Cyprus;he also inquired if he could give me some letters of recommendationto the Syrian consuls. I was touched by this hearty politenesson the part of a perfect stranger—an Englishman moreover, a raceon whom we are accustomed to look as cold and exclusive!

CHAPTER VI.

Arrival at Beyrout—Fellahs—Backsheesh—Uncomfortablequarters—Saida—Tyre—St. Jean d’Acre—Cæsarea—Excursionamong the ruins—Jaffa—An eastern family—The Indianfig-tree—An Oriental dinner—Costume of the women of Jaffa—Oppressiveheat—Gnats—Ramla—Syrian convents—Bedouins andArabs—Kariet el Areb, or Emmaus—The Scheikh—Arrivalat Jerusalem.

May 25th.

This morning I could discern the Syrian coast, which becomes moreglorious the nearer we approach. Beyrout, the goal of our voyage,was jealously hidden from our eyes to the very last moment. Wehad still to round a promontory, and then this Eden of the earth laybefore us in all its glory. How gladly would I have retarded thecourse of our vessel, as we passed from the last rocky point into theharbour, to have enjoyed this sight a little longer! One pairof eyes does not suffice to take in this view; the objects are too numerous,and the spectator is at a loss whither he should first direct his gaze,—uponthe town, with its many ancient towers attached to the houses, givingthem the air of knights’ castles—upon the numerous country-housesin the shade of luxurious mulberry plantations—upon the beautifulvalley between Beyrout and Mount Lebanon—or on the distant mountain-rangeitself. The towering masses of this magnificent chain, the peculiarcolour of its rocks, and its snowclad summits, riveted my attentionlonger than any thing else.

Scarcely had the anchor descended from the bows, before our shipwas besieged by a number of small boats, with more noise and bustlethan even at Constantinople. The half-naked and excitable Arabsor Fellahs are so ready with offers of service, that it is difficultto keep them off. It almost becomes necessary to threaten thesepoor people with a stick, as they obstinately refuse to take a gentlerhint. As the water is here very shallow, so that even the littleboats cannot come quite close to shore, some others of these brown formsimmediately approached, seized us by the arms, took us upon their backsamidst continual shouting and quarrelling, and carried us triumphantlyto land.

Before the stranger puts himself into the hands of men of this kind,such as captains of small craft, donkey-drivers, porters, etc., he willfind it a very wise precaution to settle the price he is to pay fortheir services. I generally spoke to the captain, or to some oldstager among the passengers, on this subject. Even when I gavethese people double their usual price, they were not contented, butdemanded an additional backsheesh (gratuity). It is thereforeadvisable to make the first offer very small, and to retain somethingfor the backsheesh. At length I safely reached the house of HerrBattista (the only inn in the place), and was rejoicing in the prospectof rest and refreshment, when the dismal cry of “no room”was raised. I was thus placed in a deplorable position.There was no second inn, no convent, no place of any kind, where I,poor desolate creature that I was, could find shelter. This circ*mstanceworked so much on the host’s feelings, that he introduced me tohis wife, and promised to procure me a private lodging.

I had now certainly a roof above my head, but yet I could get norest, nor even command a corner where I might change my dress.I sat with my hostess from eleven in the morning until five in the afternoon,and a miserably long time it appeared. I could not read, write,or even talk, for neither my hostess nor her children knew any languagebut Arabic. I had, however, time to notice what was going on aroundme, and observed that these children were much more lively than thosein Constantinople, for here they were continually chattering and runningabout. According to the custom of the country, the wife does nothingbut play with the children or gossip with the neighbours, while herhusband attends to kitchen and cellar, makes all the requisite purchases,and besides attending to the guests, even lays the tablecloth for hiswife and children. He told me that in a week at furthest, hiswife would go with the children to a convent on the Lebanon, to remainthere during the hot season of the year. What a difference betweenan Oriental and a European woman!

I still found the heat at sea far from unendurable; a soft wind continuallywafted its cooling influence towards us, and an awning had been spreadout to shelter us from the rays of the sun. But what a contrastwhen we come to land! As I sat in the room here the perspirationdropped continually from my brow, and now I began to understand whatis meant by being in the tropics. I could scarcely await the hourwhen I should be shewn to a room to change my clothes; but to-day Iwas not to have an opportunity of doing so, for at five o’clocka messenger came from Mr. Bartlett with the welcome intelligence thatwe could continue our journey, as nothing was to be feared from theDruses and Maronites, and the plague only reigned in isolated placesthrough which it was not necessary that we should pass. He hadalready engaged a servant who would act as cook and dragoman (interpreter);provisions and cooking utensils had also been bought, and places wereengaged on an Arab craft. Nothing, therefore, remained for meto do but to be on the sea-shore by six o’clock, where his servantwould be waiting for me. I was much rejoiced on hearing this goodnews: I forgot that I required rest and a change of clothes, packedup my bundle, and hurried to the beach. Of the town I only sawa few streets, where there was a great bustle. I also noticedmany swarthy Arabs and Bedouins, who wore nothing but a shirt.I did not feel particularly anxious to see Beyrout and its vicinity,as I intended to return soon and visit any part I could not examinenow.

Before sunset we had already embarked on board the craft that wasto carry us to the long-wished-for, the sacred coast of Joppa.Every thing was in readiness, and we lacked only the one thing indispensable—abreeze.

No steamers sail between Joppa and Beyrout; travellers must be contentwith sailing vessels, deficient alike as regards cleanliness and convenience;they are not provided with a cabin, or even with an awning, so thatthe passengers remain day and night under the open sky. Our vesselcarried a cargo of pottery, besides rice and corn in sacks.

Midnight approached, and still we were in harbour, with not a breathof wind to fill our sails.

Wrapping my cloak tightly round me, I lay down on the sacks, in theabsence of a mattress; but I was not yet sufficiently tired out to beable to find rest on such an unusual couch. So I rose again inrather a bad humour, and looked with an evil eye on the Arabs lyingon the sacks around me, who were not “slumbering softly,”but snoring lustily. By way of forcing myself, if possible, intoa poetical train of thought, I endeavoured to concentrate my attentionon the contemplation of the beautiful landscape by moonlight; but eventhis would not keep me from yawning. My companion seemed muchin the same mood; for he had also risen from his soft couch,and was staring gloomingly straight before him. At length, towardsthree o’clock in the morning of

May 26th,

a slight breath of wind arose, we hoisted two or three sails, andglided slowly and noiselessly towards the sea.

Mr. B. had bargained with the captain to keep as close to the shoreas possible, in order that we might see the towns as we passed.Excepting in Cæsarea, it was forbidden to cast anchor any where,for the plague was raging at Sur (Tyre) and in several other places.

Bargains of this kind must be taken down in writing at the consulates,and only one-half of the sum agreed should be paid in advance; the otherhalf must be kept in hand, to operate as a check on the crew.After every precaution has been taken, one can seldom escape withoutsome bickering and quarrelling. On these occasions it is alwaysadvisable at once to take high ground, and not to give way in the mosttrifling particular, for this is the only method of gaining peace andquietness.

Towards seven o’clock in the morning we sailed by the townand fortress of Saida. The town looks respectable enough, andcontains some spacious houses. The fortress is separated fromthe town by a small bay, across which a wooden bridge has been built.The fortress seems in a very dilapidated condition; many breaches arestill in the same state in which they were left after the taking ofthe town by the English in 1840, and part of the wall has fallen intothe sea. In the background we could descry some ruins on a rock,apparently the remains of an ancient castle.

The next place we saw was Sarepta, where Elijah the prophet was fedby the poor widow during the famine.

The Lebanon range becomes lower and lower, while its namesake, theAnti-Lebanon, begins to rise. It is quite as lofty as the first-namedrange, which it closely resembles in form. Both are traversedby fields of snow, and between them stands a third colossus, Mount Hermon.

Next came the town of Tyre or Sur, now barren and deserted; for thatmighty scourge of humanity, the plague, was raging there to a fearfulextent. A few scattered fragments of fortifications and numerousfallen pillars lie strewed on the shore.

And now at length I was about to see places which many have longedto behold, but which few have reached. With a beating heart Igazed unceasingly towards St. Jean d’Acre, which I at length sawrising from the waves, with Mount Carmel in the background. Here,then, was the holy ground on which the Redeemer walked for us fallencreatures! Both St. Jean d’Acre and Mount Carmel can bedistinguished a long distance off.

For a second time did a mild and calm night sink gently on the earthwithout bringing me repose. How unlucky it is that we find itso much harder to miss comforts we have been used to enjoy, than toacquire the habit of using comforts to which we have been unaccustomed!Were this not the case, how much easier would travelling be! Asit is, it costs us many an effort ere we can look hardships boldly inthe face. “But patience!” thought I to myself; “Ishall have more to endure yet; and if I return safely, I shall be asthoroughly case-hardened as any native.”

Our meals and our beverage were very simple. In the morningwe had pilau, and in the evening we had pilau; our drink was lukewarmwater, qualified with a little rum.

From Beyrout to the neighbourhood of St. Jean d’Acre, the coastand a considerable belt of land adjoining it are sandy and barren.Near Acre every thing changed; we once more beheld pretty country-housessurrounded by pomegranate and orange plantations, and a noble aqueductintersects the plain. Mount Carmel, alone barren and unfruitful,stands in striking contrast to the beauteous landscape around; juttingboldly out towards the sea, it forms the site of a handsome and spaciousconvent.

The town of St. Jean d’Acre and its fortifications were completelydestroyed during the last war (in 1840), and appear to sigh in vainfor repairs. The houses and mosques are full of cannon-balls andshot-holes. Every thing stands and lies about as though the enemyhad departed but yesterday. Six cannons peer threateningly fromthe wall. The town and fortifications are both built on a tongueof land washed by the sea.

May 27th.

During the night we reached Cæsarea. With the eloquenceof a Demosthenes, our captain endeavoured to dissuade us from our projectof landing here; he pointed out to us the dangers to which we were exposingourselves, and the risks we should run from Bedouins and snakes.The former, he averred, were accustomed to conceal themselves in hordesamong the ruins, in order to ease travellers of their effects and money;being well aware that such spots were only visited by curious touristswith well-filled purses, they were continually on the watch, like therobber-knights of the good old German empire. “An enemyno less formidable,” said the captain, “was to be encounteredin the persons of numerous snakes lurking in the old walls and on theweed-covered ground, which endangered the life of the traveller at everystep.” We were perfectly well aware of these facts, havinggleaned them partly from descriptions of voyages, partly from oral traditions;and so they were not powerful enough to arrest our curiosity.The captain himself was really less actuated by the sense of our danger,in advising us to abandon our undertaking, than by the reflection ofthe time it lost him; but he exerted himself in vain. He was obligedto cast anchor, and at daybreak to send a boat ashore with us.

Our arms consisted of parasols and sticks (the latter we carriedin order to beat the bushes); we were escorted by the captain, his servant,and a couple of sailors.

In the ruins we certainly met with a few suspicious-looking charactersin the shape of wandering Bedouins. As it was too late to beata retreat, we advanced bravely towards them with trusting and friendlylooks. The Bedouins did the same, and so there was an end of thisdangerous affair. We climbed from one fragment to another, andcertainly spent more than two hours among the ruins, without sustainingthe slightest injury at the hands of these people. Of the threatenedsnakes we saw not a single one.

Ruins, indeed, we found every where in plenty. Whole side-walls,which appeared to have belonged to private houses, but not to splendidpalaces or temples, stood erect and almost unscathed. Fragmentsof pillars lay scattered about in great abundance, but without capitals,pedestals, or friezes.

It was with a feeling of awe hitherto unknown to me that I trod theground where my Redeemer had walked. Every spot, every buildingbecame invested with a double interest. “Perchance,”I thought, “I may be lingering within the very house where Jesusonce sojourned.” More than satisfied with my excursion,I returned to our bark.

By three o’clock in the afternoon we were close under the wallsof Joppa. To enter this harbour, partially choked up as it iswith sand, is described as a difficult feat. We were assured thatwe should see many wrecks of stranded ships and boats; accordingly Istrained my eyes to the utmost, and could discover nothing. Weran safely in; and thus ended a little journey in the course of whichI had seen many new and interesting objects, besides gaining some insightinto the mode of life among the sailors. Frequently, when it fellcalm, our Arabs would recline on the ground in a circle, singing songsof an inconceivably inharmonious and lugubrious character, while theyclapped their hands in cadence, and burst at intervals into a barkinglaugh. I could not find any thing very amusing in this entertainment;on the contrary, it had the effect of making me feel very melancholy,as displaying these good people in a very idiotic and degrading light.

The costume of the sailors was simple in the extreme. A shirtcovered them in rather an imperfect manner, and a handkerchief boundround their heads protected them from a coup de soleil.The captain was distinguished from the rest only by his turban, whichlooked ridiculous enough, surmounting his half-clad form. Theirdiet consisted of a single warm meal of pilau or beans, eaten in theevening. During the day they stayed their appetites with bread.Their drink was water.

The town of Joppa, extending from the sea-shore to the summit ofa rather considerable and completely isolated hill, has a most peculiarappearance. The lower street is surrounded by a wall, and appearssufficiently broad; the remaining streets run up the face of the hills,and seem at a distance to be resting on the houses below. Viewingthe town from our boat, I could have sworn that people were walkingabout on flat house-tops.

As Joppa boasts neither an inn nor a convent which might sheltera traveller, I waited upon the Consul of the Austrian Empire, Herr D---,who received me very kindly and introduced me to his family, which comprisedhis lady, three sons, and three daughters. They wore the Turkishcostume. The daughters, two of whom were exceedingly beautiful,wore wide trousers, a caftan, and a sash round the waist. On theirheads they had little fez-caps, and their hair was divided into fifteenor twenty narrow plaits, interwoven with little gold coins, and a largerone at the end of each plait. A necklace of gold coins encircledtheir necks. The mother was dressed in exactly the same way.When elderly women have little or no hair left, they make up with artificialsilk plaits for the deficiencies of nature.

The custom of wearing coins as ornaments is so prevalent throughoutSyria, that the very poorest women, girls, and children strive to displayas many as possible. Where they cannot sport gold, they contentthemselves with silver money; and where even this metal is not attainable,with little coins of copper and other baser metals.

The Consul and his son were also clothed in the Turkish garb; butinstead of a turban the father wore an old co*cked hat, which gave himan indescribably ludicrous appearance. A son and a daughter ofthis worthy patron of the semi-Turkish, semi-European garb, had butone eye, a defect frequently met with in Syria. It is generallysupposed to be caused by the dry heat, the fine particles of sand, andthe intense glare of the chalky hills.

As I reached Joppa early in the afternoon, I proceeded in companyof the Consul to view the town and its environs. In dirt, badpaving, etc., I found it equal to any of the towns I had yet seen.The lower street, near the sea, alone is broad and bustling, with loadedand unloaded camels passing continually to and fro. The bazaaris composed of some miserable booths containing common provisions anda few cheap wares.

The neighbourhood of Joppa is exceedingly fertile. Numerouslarge gardens, with trees laden with all kinds of tropical fruits, andguarded by impenetrable hedges of the Indian fig-tree, form a half-circleround the lower portion of the town.

The Indian fig-tree, which I here saw for the first time, has anodd appearance. From its stem, which is very dwarfish, leavesa foot in length, six inches in breadth, and half an inch in thickness,shoot forth. This tree seldom sends forth branches; the leavesgrow one out of another, and at the extremity the fruit is formed.Its length is about two or three inches. Ten or twenty such figsare frequently found adhering to a single leaf.

I could not conceive how it happened that in these hot countries,without rain to refresh them, the trees all looked so healthy and beautiful.This fact, I found, was owing to the numerous channels cut through thegardens, which are thus artificially irrigated. The heavy dewsand cool nights also tend to restore the drooping vegetation.One great ornament of our gardens was, however, totally wanting—alawn with wild flowers. Trees and vegetables here grow out ofthe sandy or stony earth, a circ*mstance hardly noticed at a distance,but which produces a disagreeable effect on a near view. FlowersI found none.

The whole region round Joppa is so covered with sand, that one sinksankle-deep at every step.

Consul D--- fulfils the duties of two consulates, the Austrian andthe French. From both these offices he derives no benefit butthe honour. By some people this honour would be highly valued,but many would rate it at nothing at all. This family, however,seems to have a great idea of honour; for the consul’s officeis hereditary, and I found the son of the present dignitary alreadylooking forward to filling his place.

In the evening I was present at a real Oriental entertainment inthe house of this friendly family.

Mats, carpets, and pillows were spread out on the terrace of thehouse, and a very low table placed in the centre. Round this thefamily sat, or rather reclined, cross-legged. I was accommodatedwith a chair somewhat higher than the table. Beside my plate andthat of the Consul were laid a knife and fork, that appeared to havebeen hunted out from some lumber closet; the rest ate with a speciesof natural knife and fork, namely—fingers.

The dishes were not at all to my taste. I had still too muchof the European about me, and too little appetite, to be able to endurewhat these good people seemed to consider immense delicacies.

The first dish appeared in the form of a delicate pilau, composedof mutton, cucumbers, and a quantity of spice, which rendered it moreunpalatable to me than common pilau. Then followed sliced cucumberssprinkled with salt; but as the chief ingredients, vinegar and oil,were entirely wanting, I was obliged to force down the cucumber as bestI could. Next came rice-milk, so strongly flavoured with attarof roses, that the smell alone was more than enough for me; and nowat length the last course was put on the table—stale cheese madeof ewe’s milk, little unpeeled girkins, which my entertainerscoolly discussed rind and all, and burnt hazel-nuts. The bread,which is flat like pancakes, is not baked in ovens, but laid on metalplates or hot stones, and turned when one side is sufficiently done.It tastes better than I should have expected. {101}

Our conversation during dinner was most interesting. Some ofthe family spoke a little Italian, but this little was pronounced withsuch a strong Greek accent, that I was obliged to guess at the greaterportion of what was said. No doubt they had to do the same withme. The worthy Consul, indeed, affirmed that he knew French verywell; but for this evening at least, his memory seemed to have givenhim the slip. Much was spoken, and little understood. Thesame thing is said often to be the case in learned societies; so itwas not of much consequence.

There are many different kinds of cucumber in Syria, where they area favourite dish with rich and poor. I found numerous varieties,but none that I found superior to our German one. Another favouritefruit is the water-melon, here called “bastek.” Thesealso I found neither larger in size nor better flavoured than the melonsI had eaten in southern Hungary.

The Consul’s house seems sufficiently large; but the architecturalarrangement is so irregular that the extended area contains but fewrooms and very little comfort. The apartments are lofty and large,extremely ill-furnished, and not kept in the best possible order.

I slept in the apartment of the married daughter; but had it notbeen for the beds standing round, I should rather have looked upon itas an old store-closet than a lady’s sleeping-room.

May 28th.

At five o’clock in the morning Mr. Bartlett’s servantcame to fetch me away, as we were at once to continue our journey.I betook myself to the house of the English Consul, where I found neithera horse nor any thing else prepared for our departure. It is necessaryto look calmly upon these irregularities here in the East, where itis esteemed a fortunate occurrence if the horses and mukers (as thedrivers of horses and donkeys are called) are only a few hours behindtheir time. Thus our horses made their appearance at half-pastfive instead of at four, the hour for which they had been ordered.Our baggage was soon securely fixed, for we left the greater portionof our effects at Joppa, and took with us only what was indispensablynecessary.

As the clock struck six we rode out of the gate of Joppa, and immediatelyafterwards reached a large well with a marble basin. Near placesof this description a great number of people are always congregated,and more women and girls are seen than appear elsewhere.

The dress of females belonging to the lower orders consists of along blue garment fastened round the throat, and reaching below theankle. They completely cover the head and face, frequently withouteven leaving openings for the eyes. Some females, on the otherhand, go abroad with their faces totally uncovered. These are,however, exceptional cases.

The women carry their water-pitchers on their head or shoulder, astheir ancestors have done for thousands of years, in the manner we findrepresented in the oldest pictures. But unfortunately I coulddiscover neither the grace in their gait, the dignity in their movements,nor the physical beauty in their appearance, that I had been led toexpect. On the contrary, I found squalor and poverty more prevalentthan I had thought possible. We rode on amid the gardens, everymoment meeting a little caravan of camels. Immediately beyondthe gardens we descry the fruitful valley of Sharon, extending morethan eight miles in length, and to a still greater distance in breadth.Here and there we find villages built on hills, and the whole presentsthe appearance of an extremely fertile and well-populated region.In all directions we saw large herds of sheep and goats; the lattergenerally of a black or brown colour, with long pendent ears.

The foreground of the picture is formed by the Judæan mountains,a range apparently composed of a number of barren rocks.

A ride of two hours through this plain, which is less sandy thanthe immediate neighbourhood of Joppa, brought us to a mosque, wherewe made halt for a quarter of an hour and ate our breakfast, consistingof some hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bread, and a draught of lukewarmwater from the cistern. Our poor beasts fared even worse thanourselves—they received nothing but water.

On leaving this place to resume our journey across the plain, wenot only suffered dreadfully from the heat, which had reached 30°Reaumur, but were further persecuted by a species of minute gnats, whichhovered round us in large swarms, crept into our noses and ears, andannoyed us in such a manner that it required the utmost of our patienceand determination to prevent us from turning back at once. Fortunatelywe only met with these tormentors in those parts where the corn hadbeen cut and was still in the fields. They are not much largerthan a pin’s head, and look more like flies than gnats.They are always met with in great swarms, and sting so sharply thatthey frequently raise large boils.

The vegetation was at this season already in so forward a state thatwe frequently passed stubble-fields, and found that the wheat had inseveral cases been already garnered up. Throughout the whole ofSyria, and in that part of Egypt whither my journey afterwards led me,I never once saw corn or vegetables, wood or stores, carried in wagons;they were invariably borne by horses or asses. In Syria I couldunderstand the reason of this proceeding. With the exception,perhaps, of the eight or ten miles across the valley of Sharon, theroad is too stony and uneven to admit the passage of the lightest andsmallest carts. In Egypt, however, this is not the case, and yetwagons have not been introduced.

A most comical effect was produced when we met long processions ofsmall donkeys, so completely laden with corn, that neither their headsnor their feet remained visible. The sheaves seemed to be movingspontaneously, or to be propelled by the power of steam. Frequentlyafter a train of this kind has passed, lofty grey heads appear, surroundedby a load piled up to so great a height, that one would suppose largecorn-wagons were approaching rather than the “ship of the desert,”the camel. The traveller’s attention is continually attractedto some novel and curious object totally dissimilar to any thing hehas seen at home.

Towards ten o’clock we arrived at Ramla, a place situate ona little hill, and discernible from a great distance. Before reachingthe town, we had to pass through an olive-wood. Leaving our horsesbeneath a shady tree, we entered the coppice on the right: a walk ofabout a quarter of a mile brought us to the “Tower of the FortyMartyrs,” which was converted into a church during the time ofthe Knights Templars, and now serves as a dwelling for dervishes.It is a complete ruin, and I could scarcely believe that it was stillhabitable.

We made no stay at Ramda, a place only remarkable for a convent built,it is said, on the site of Joseph of Arimathea’s house.

The Syrian convents are built more like fortresses than like peacefuldwellings. They are usually surrounded by strong and lofty walls,furnished with loopholes for cannon. The great gate is kept continuallyclosed, and barred and bolted from within for greater security; a littlepostern is opened to admit visitors, but even this is only done in timeof peace, and when there is no fear of the plague.

At length, towards noon, we approached the mountains of Judæa.Here we must bid farewell to the beautiful fruitful valley and to thecharming road, and pursue our journey through a stony region, whichwe do not pass without difficulty.

At the entrance of the mountain-chain lies a miserable village; nearthis village is a well, and here we halted to refresh ourselves andwater our poor horses. It was not without a great deal of troubleand some expense that we managed to obtain a little water; for all thecamels, asses, goats, and sheep from far and wide were collected here,eagerly licking up every drop of the refreshing element they could secure.Little did I think that I should ever be glad to quench my thirst withso disgusting a beverage as the muddy, turbid, and lukewarm water theygave me from this well. We once more filled our leathern bottles,and proceeded with fresh courage up the stony path, which quickly becameso narrow, that without great difficulty and danger we could not passthe camels which we frequently met. Fortunately a few camels outof every herd are generally provided with bells, so that their approachis heard at some distance, and one can prepare for them accordingly.

The Bedouins and Arabs generally wear no garment but a shirt barelyreaching to the knee. Their head is protected by a linen cloth,to which a thick rope wound twice round the head gives a very good effect.A few have a striped jacket over their shirt, and the rich men or chiefsfrequently wear turbans.

Our road now continues to wind upwards, through ravines between rocksand mountains, and over heaps of stones. Here and there singleolive-trees are seen sprouting from the rocky clefts. Ugly asthis tree is, it still forms a cheerful feature in the desert placeswhere it grows. Now and then we climbed hills whence we had adistant view of the sea. These glimpses increase the awe whichinspires the traveller when he considers on what ground he is wandering,and whither he is bending his steps. Every step we now take leadsus past places of religious importance; every ruin, every fragment ofa fortress or tower, above which the rocky walls rise like terraces,speaks of eventful times long gone by.

An uninterrupted ride of five hours over very bad roads, from theentrance of the mountain-range, added to the extreme heat and totalwant of proper refreshment, suddenly brought on such a violent giddinessthat I could scarcely keep myself from falling off my horse. Althoughwe had been on horseback for eleven hours since leaving Joppa, I wasso much afraid that Mr. B. would consider me weak and ailing, and perhapschange his intention of accompanying me from Jerusalem back to Joppa,that I refrained from acquainting him with the condition in which Ifelt myself. I therefore dismounted (had I not done so, I shouldsoon have fallen down), and walked with tottering steps beside my horse,until I felt so far recovered that I could mount once more. Mr.B. had determined to perform the distance from Joppa to Jerusalem (asixteen hours’ ride) at one stretch. He indeed asked meif I could bear so much fatigue; but I was unwilling to abuse his kindness,and therefore assured him that I could manage to ride on for five orsix hours longer. Fortunately for my reputation, my companionwas soon afterwards attacked with the same symptoms that troubled meso much; he now began to think that it might, after all, be advisableto rest for a few hours in the next village, especially as we couldnot hope in any case to reach the gates of Jerusalem before sundown.I felt silently thankful for this opportune occurrence, and left thequestion of going on or stopping altogether to the decision of my fellow-traveller,particularly as I knew the course he would choose. Thus I accomplishedmy object without being obliged to confess my weakness. In pursuanceof this resolve, we stayed in the neighbouring village of “Karietel Areb,” the ancient Emmaus, where the risen Saviour met thedisciples, and where we find a ruin of a Christian church in a tolerablestate of preservation. The building is now used as a stable.Some years ago this was the haunt of a famous robber, who was scheikhof the place, and let no Frank pass before he had paid whatever tributehe chose to demand. Since the accession of Mehemet Ali these exactionshave ceased both here and in Jerusalem, where money was demanded ofthe stranger for admission into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre andother sacred places. Even highway robberies, which were once ona time of daily occurrence among these mountains, are now rarely heardof.

We took possession of the entrance-hall of a mosque, near which adelicious spring sparkled forth from a grotto. Seldom has anything strengthened and refreshed me so much as the water of this spring.I recovered completely from my indisposition, and was able to enjoythe beautiful evening.

As soon as the scheikh of the village heard that a party of Frankshad arrived, he despatched four or five dishes of provisions to us.Of all these preparations we could only eat one—the butter-milk.The other dishes, a mixture of honey, cucumbers, hard-boiled eggs, onions,oil, olives, etc., we generously bestowed upon the dragoman and themuker, who caused them quickly to disappear. An hour afterwardsthe scheikh came in person to pay his respects. We reclined onthe steps of the hall; and while the men smoked and drank coffee, aconversation of a very uninteresting kind was kept up, the dragomanacting as interpreter. At length the scheikh seemed seized withthe idea that we might possibly be tired with our journey. Hetook his leave, and offered unasked to send us two men as sentries,which he did. Thus we could go to rest in perfect safety underthe open sky in the midst of a Turkish village.

But before we retired to rest, my companion was seized with the ratheroriginal idea that we should pursue our journey at midnight. Heasked me, indeed, if I was afraid, but at the same time observed, thatit would be much safer for us to act upon his suggestion, as no onewould suspect our departure by such a dangerous road at midnight.I certainly felt a little afraid, but my pride would not allow me toconfess the truth; so our people received the order to be prepared toset out at midnight.

Thus we four persons, alone and totally unarmed, travelled at midnightthrough the wildest and most dangerous regions. Fortunately thebright moon looked smilingly down upon us, and illuminated our pathso brightly, that the horses carried us with firm step over every obstruction.I was, I must confess, grievously frightened by the shadows! Isaw living things moving to and fro—forms gigantic and forms dwarfishseemed sometimes approaching us, sometimes hiding behind masses of rock,or sinking back into nothingness. Lights and shadows, fears andanxiety, thus took alternate possession of my imagination.

A couple of miles from our starting-place we came upon a brook crossedby a narrow stone bridge. This brook is remarkable only as havingbeen that from which David collected the five stones wherewith he slewthe Philistine giant. At the season of my visit there was no waterto be seen; the bed of the stream was completely dry.

About an hour’s journey from Jerusalem the valley opens, andlittle orchards give indication of a more fertile country, as well asof the proximity of the Holy City. Silently and thoughtfully weapproached our destination, straining our eyes to the utmost to piercethe jealous twilight that shrouded the distance from our gaze.From the next hill we hoped to behold our sacred goal; but “hopedeferred” is often the lot of mortals. We had to ascendanother height, and another; at length the Mount of Olives lay spreadbefore us, and lastly JERUSALEM.

CHAPTER VII.

Residence at Jerusalem—Catholic church—The “NuovaCasa”—Via Dolorosa—Pilate’s house—TheMosque Omar—Herod’s house—Church of the Holy Sepulchre—Disturbancesat the Greek Easter feasts—Knights of the Holy Sepulchre—Mountof Olives—Adventure among the ruin—Mount of Offence—Valleyof Jehosaphat—Siloam—Mount Sion—Jeremiah’s grotto—Graves.

The red morning dawn had began to tinge the sky as we stood beforethe walls of Jerusalem, and with it the most beauteous morning of mylife dawned upon me! I was so lost in reflection and in thankfulemotion, that I saw and heard nothing of what was passing around me.And yet I should find it impossible to describe what I thought, whatI felt. My emotion was deep and powerful; my expression of itwould be poor and cold.

At half past four o’clock in the morning of the 29th May wearrived at the “Bethlehem Gate.” We were obliged towait half an hour before this gate was opened; then we rode throughthe still silent and deserted streets of the Nuova Casa (Pilgrim-house),a building devoted by the Franciscan friars to the reception of richand poor Roman Catholics and Protestants.

I left my baggage in the room allotted to me, and hastened into thechurch, to lighten the weight on my heart by fervent prayer. Theentrance into the church looks like the door of a private house; thebuilding is small, but still sufficiently large for the Roman Catholiccongregation. The altar is richly furnished, and the organ isa very bad one. The male and female portions of the congregationare separated from each other, the young as well as the old, and allsit or kneel on the ground. Chairs there are none in this church.The costume of the Christians is precisely the same as that of the Syrians.The women wear boots of yellow morocco, and over these slippers, whichthey take off on entering the church. In the street their facesare completely, in the church only partially, muffled, and the facesof the girls not at all. Their dress consists of a white linengown, and a large shawl of the same material, which completely envelopsthem. They were all cleanly and neatly dressed.

The amount of devotion manifested by these people is very small;the most trifling circ*mstance suffices to distract their attention.For instance, my appearance seemed to create quite a sensation amongthem, and they made their remarks upon me to one another so openly bothby words and gestures, that I found it quite impossible to give my mindto seriousness and devotion. Some of them pushed purposely againstme, and put out their hands to grasp my bonnet, etc. They conversedtogether a good deal, and prayed very little. The children behavedno better; these little people ate their breakfast while the servicewas going on, and occasionally jostled each other, probably to keepthemselves awake. The good people here must fancy they are doinga meritorious work by passing two or three hours in the church; no oneseems to care how this time is spent, or they would assuredlyhave been taught better.

I had been in the church rather more than an hour when a clergymanstepped up to me and accosted me in my native language. He wasa German, and, in fact, an Austrian. He promised to visit me inthe course of a few hours. I returned to the Nuova Casa, and now,for the first time, had leisure to examine my apartment. The arrangementwas simple in the extreme. An iron bedstead, with a mattress,coverlet, and bolster, a very dingy table, with two chairs, a smallbench, and a cupboard, all of deal, composed the whole furniture.These chattels, and also the windows, some panes of which were broken,may once, in very ancient times, have been clean. The walls wereof plaster, and the floor was paved with large slabs of stone.Chimneys are no more to be found in this country. I did not seeany until my return to Sicily.

I now laid myself down for a couple of hours to get a little rest;for during my journey hither from Constantinople I had scarcely sleptat all.

At eleven o’clock the German priest, Father Paul, visited me,in order to explain the domestic arrangements to me. Dinner iseaten at twelve o’clock, and supper at seven. At breakfastwe get coffee without sugar or milk; for dinner, mutton-broth, a pieceof roast kid, pastry prepared with oil or a dish of cucumbers, and,as a concluding course, roast or spiced mutton. Twice in the week,namely on Fridays and Saturdays, we have fast-day fare; but if the feastof a particular saint falls during the week, a thing that frequentlyoccurs, we hold three fast-days, the one of the saint’s day beingkept as a time of abstinence. The fare on fast-days consists ofa dish of lentils, an omelette, and two dishes of salt fish, one hotand the other cold. Bread and wine, as also these provisions,are doled out in sufficient quantities. But every thing is veryindifferently cooked, and it takes a long time for a stranger to accustomhimself to the ever-recurring dishes of mutton. In Syria oxenand calves are not killed during the summer season; so that from the19th of May until my journey to Egypt in the beginning of September,I could get neither beef-soup nor beef.

In this convent no charge is made either for board or lodging, andevery visitor may stay there for a whole month. At most it iscustomary to give a voluntary subscription towards the masses; but noone asks if a traveller has given much, little, or nothing at all, orwhether he is a Roman Catholic, a Protestant, or a votary of any otherreligion. In this respect the Franciscan order is much to be commended.The priests are mostly Spaniards and Italians; very few of them belongto other nations.

Father Paul was kind enough to offer his services as my guide, andto-day I visited several of the holy places in company with him.

We began with the Via Dolorosa, the road which our Lord is said tohave trodden when for the last time he wandered as God-man on earth,bowed down by the weight of the cross, on his way to Golgotha.The spots where Christ sank exhausted are marked by fragments of thepillars which St. Helena caused to be attached to the houses on eitherside of the way. Further on we reach the “Zwerchgasse,”the place whither the Virgin Mary is said to have come in haste to seeher beloved Son for the last time.

Next we visited Pilate’s house, which is partly a ruin, theremaining portion serving as a barrack for Turkish soldiers. Iwas shewn the spot where the “holy stairs” stood, up whichour Lord is said to have walked. On my return, I saw these stairsin the church of S. Giovanni di Laterani. They also pretend toshow the place where the Saviour was brought out before the multitudeby Pilate. A little distance off, in the midst of a dark vault,they shew the traveller the stone to which Jesus was bound when “theyscourged Him.”

We ascended the highest terrace of this house, as this spot affordsthe best view of the magnificent mosque of Omar, standing in a largecourtyard. With this exterior view the traveller is fain to becontent; for the Turks are here much more fanatical than those in Constantinopleand many other towns, so that an attempt to penetrate even into thecourtyard would be unsuccessful; the intruder would run the risk ofbeing assailed with a shower of stones. But in proportion as theTurks are strict in the observance of their own ceremonies and customs,so they respect those Christians who are religious and devotional.

Every Christian can go with perfect impunity to pray at all the placeswhich are sacred in his eyes, without fear of being taunted or annoyedby the Turkish passers-by. On the contrary, the Mussulman stepsrespectfully aside; for even he venerates the Saviour as a great prophet,and the Virgin as his mother.

Not far from Pilate’s house stands the building designatedas that of Herod; it is, however, a complete ruin. The house ofthe rich man, at whose gate the beggar Lazarus lay, has shared the samefate; but from the ruins one may conclude how magnificent the buildingmust originally have been.

In the house of Saint Veronica a stone is pointed out on which theyshew you a footprint of the Saviour. In another house two footprintsof the Virgin Mary are exhibited. Father Paul also drew my attentionto the houses which stood on the spot where Mary Magdalene and the otherMary were born. These houses are all inhabited by Turks, but anyone may obtain admittance upon payment of a small fee.

The following day I visited the church of the Holy Sepulchre.The way lies through several narrow and dirty streets. In thelanes near the church are booths like those at Maria Zell in Steiermark,and many other places of pilgrimage, where they sell wreaths of roses,shells of mother-of-pearl, crucifixes, etc. The open space beforethe church is neat enough. Opposite lies the finest house in Jerusalem,its terraces gay with flowers.

Visitors to this church will do wisely to provide themselves witha sufficient number of para, as they may expect to be surrounded bya goodly tribe of beggars. The church is always locked; the keyis in the custody of some Turks, who open the sacred edifice when askedto do so. It is customary to give them three or four piastresfor their pains, with which sum they are satisfied, and remain at theentrance during the whole time the stranger is in the church, recliningon divans, drinking coffee and smoking tobacco. At the entranceof the church we noticed a long square stone on the ground; this isthe “stone of anointing.”

In the centre of the nave a little chapel has been built; it is dividedinto two parts. In the first of these compartments is a stoneslab encased in marble. This is vehemently asserted to be theidentical stone on which the angel sat when he announced our Lord’sresurrection to the women who came to embalm his body. In thesecond compartment, which is of the same size as the first, stands thesarcophagus or tomb of the Saviour, of white marble. The approachis by such a low door that one has to stoop exceedingly in order toenter. The tomb occupies the whole length of the chapel, and answersthe purpose of an altar. We could not look into the sarcophagus.The illumination of this chapel is very grand both by night and day;forty-seven lamps are kept continually burning above the grave.The portion of the chapel containing the tomb is so small, that whenthe priest reads mass only two or three people have room to stand andlisten. The chapel is entirely built of marble, and belongs tothe Roman Catholics; but the Greeks have the right of celebrating massalternately with them.

At the farther end of the chapel the Copts have a little mean-lookingaltar of wood, surrounded by walls of lath. All round the chapelare niches belonging to the different religious sects.

In this church I was also shewn the subterranean niche in which Jesusis said to have been a prisoner; also the niche where the soldiers castlots for our Saviour’s garments, and the chapel containing thegrave of St. Nicodemus. Not far from this chapel is the littleRoman Catholic church. A flight of twenty-seven steps leads downwardsto the chapel of St. Helena, where the holy woman sat continually andprayed, while she caused search to be made for the true cross.A few steps more lead us down to the spot where the cross was found.A marble slab points out the place.

Mounting the steps once more, we come to the niche containing thepillar to which Jesus was bound when they crowned him with thorns.It is called the pillar of scorn. The pillar at which Jesus wasscourged, a piece of which is preserved in Rome, is also shown.

The chapel belonging to the Greeks is very spacious, and may almostbe termed a church within a church. It is beautifully decorated.

It is very difficult to find the way in this church, which resemblesa labyrinth. Now we are obliged to ascend a flight of stairs,now again to descend. The architect certainly deserves great praisefor having managed so cleverly to unite all these holy places underone roof; and St. Helena has performed a most meritorious action inthus rescuing from oblivion the sacred sites in Jerusalem, Bethlehem,and Nazareth.

I was told, that when the Greeks celebrate their Easter here, theceremonies seldom conclude without much quarrelling and confusion.These irregularities are considerably increased when the Greek Easterhappens to fall at the same time as that of the Roman Catholics.On these occasions, there are not only numerous broken heads, but someof the combatants are even frequently carried away dead. The Turksgenerally find it necessary to interfere, to restore peace and orderamong the Christians. What opinion can these nations, whom wecall Infidels, have of us Christians, when they see with what hatredand virulence each sect of Christians pursues the other? Whenwill this dishonourable bigotry cease?

On the third day after my arrival at Jerusalem, a small caravan ofsix or seven travellers, two gentlemen namely, and their attendants,applied for admittance at our convent. An arrival of this kind,particularly if the new-comers are Franks, is far too important to admitof our delaying the inquiry from what country the wanderers have arrived.How agreeably was I surprised, when Father Paul came to me with theintelligence that these gentlemen were both Austrian subjects.What a singular coincidence! So far from my native country, Iwas thus suddenly placed in the midst of my own people. FatherPaul was a native of Vienna, and the two counts, Berchtold and SalmReifferscheit, were Bohemian cavaliers.

As soon as I had completely recovered from the fatigues of my journey,and had collected my thoughts, I passed a whole night in the churchof the Holy Sepulchre. I confessed in the afternoon, and afterwardsjoined the procession, which at four o’clock visits all the placesrendered sacred by our Saviour’s passion; I carried a wax taper,the remains of which I afterwards took back with me into my native country,as a lasting memorial. This ceremony ended, the priests retiredto their cells, and the few people who were present left the church.I alone stayed behind, as I intended to remain there all night.A solemn stillness reigned throughout the church; and now I was enabledto visit, uninterrupted and alone, all the sacred places, and to givemyself wholly up to my meditations. Truly these were the mostblissful hours of my life; and he who has lived to enjoy such hourshas lived long enough.

A place near the organ was pointed out to me where I might enjoya few hours of repose. An old Spanish woman, who lives like anun, acts as guide to those who pass a night in the church.

At midnight the different services begin. The Greeks and Armeniansbeat and hammer upon pendent plates or rods of metal; the Roman Catholicsplay on the organ, and sing and pray aloud; while the priests of otherreligions likewise sing and shout. A great and inharmonious dinis thus caused. I must confess that this midnight mass did notproduce upon me the effect I had anticipated. The constant noiseand multifarious ceremonies are calculated rather to disconcert thanto inspire the stranger. I much preferred the peace and reposethat reigned around, after the service had concluded, to all the pompand circ*mstance attending it.

Accompanied by my Spanish guide, I ascended to the Roman Catholics’choir, where prayers were said aloud from midnight until one o’clock.At four o’clock in the morning I heard several masses, and receivedthe Eucharist. At eight o’clock the Turks opened the doorat my request, and I went home.

The few Roman Catholic priests who live in the church of the HolySepulchre stay there for three months at a time, to perform the services.During this time they are not allowed to quit the church or the conventfor a single instant. After the three months have elapsed, theyare relieved by other priests.

On the 10th of June I was present at the ceremony of admission intothe Order of the Holy Sepulchre. Counts Zichy, Wratislaw, andSalm Reifferscheit were, at their own request, installed as knightsof the Sepulchre. The inauguration took place in the chapel.

The chief priest having taken his seat on a chair of state, the candidatefor knighthood knelt before him, and took the customary oaths to defendthe holy church, to protect widows and orphans, etc. During thistime the priests who stood round said prayers. Now one of thespurs of Godfrey de Bouillon was fastened on the heel of the knight;the sword of this hero was put into his hands, the sheath fastened tohis side, and a cross with a heavy gold chain, that had also belongedto Godfrey de Bouillon, was put round his neck. Then the kneelingman received the stroke of knighthood on his head and shoulders, thepriests embraced the newly-elected knight, and the ceremony was over.

A plentiful feast, given by the new-chosen knights, concluded thesolemnity.

Distant somewhat less than a mile from Jerusalem is the Mount ofOlives. Emerging from St. Stephen’s Gate, we pass the Turkishburial-ground, and reach the spot where St. Stephen was stoned.Not far off we see the bed of the brook Cedron, which is at this seasonof the year completely dried up. A stone bridge leads across thebrook; adjoining it is a stone slab where they shew traces of the footstepsof the Saviour, as He was brought across this bridge from Gethsemane,and stumbled and fell. Crossing this bridge, we arrive at thegrotto where Jesus sweat blood. This grotto still retains itsoriginal form. A plain wooden altar has been erected there, afew years since, by a Bavarian prince, and the entrance is closed byan iron gate. Not far off is Gethsemane. Eight olive-treesare here to be seen that have attained a great age; nowhere else hadI seen these trees with such massive trunks, though I had frequentlypassed through whole plantations of olives. Those who are learnedin natural history assert that the olive-tree cannot live to so greatan age as to render it possible that these venerable trunks existedat the time when Jesus passed his last night at Gethsemane in prayerand supplication. As this tree, however, propagates itself, thesetrees may be sprouts from the ancient stems. The space aroundthe roots has been strengthened with masonry, to afford a support tothese patriarchal trunks, and the eight trees are surrounded by a wallthree or four feet in height. No layman may enter this spot unaccompaniedby a priest, on pain of excommunication; it is also forbidden to plucka single leaf. The Turks also hold these trees in reverence, andwould not injure one of them.

Close by is the spot where the three disciples are said to have sleptduring the night of their Master’s agony. We were shownmarks on two rocks, said to have been footsteps of these apostles!The footsteps of the third disciple we could not discover. A littleto one side is the place where Judas betrayed his Master.

The little church containing the grave of the Virgin Mary standsnear the “Grotto of Anguish.” We descend by a broadmarble flight of fifty steps to the tomb, which is also used as an altar.About the middle of the staircase are two niches with altars; withinthese are deposited the bones of the Virgin Mary’s parents andof St. Joseph. This chapel belongs to the Greeks.

From the foot of the Mount of Olives to its summit is a walk of threequarters of an hour. The whole mountain is desert and sterile;nothing is found growing upon it but olives; and from the summit ofthis mountain our Saviour ascended into heaven. The spot was oncemarked by a church, which was afterwards replaced by a mosque: eventhis building is now in ruins. Only twelve years ago a littlechapel, of very humble appearance, was erected here; it now stands inthe midst of old walls; but here again a footprint of our Lord is shownand reverenced. On this stone it is asserted that He stood beforeHe was taken up into heaven. Not far off, we are shown the placewhere the fig-tree grew that Jesus cursed, and the field where Judashanged himself.

One afternoon I visited many of these sites, in company with CountBerchtold. As we were climbing about the ruins near the mosque,a sturdy goatherd, armed with a formidable bludgeon, came before us,and demanded “backsheesh” (a gift, or an alms) in a veryperemptory tone. Neither of us liked to take out our purse, for,fear the insolent beggar should snatch it from our hands; so we gavehim nothing. Upon this he seized the Count by the arm, and shoutedout something in Arabic which we could not understand, though we couldguess pretty accurately what he meant. The Count disengaged hisarm, and we proceeded almost to push and wrestle our way into the openfield, which was luckily only a few paces off. By good fortune,also, several people appeared near us, upon seeing whom the fellow retired.This incident convinced us of the fact that Franks should not leavethe city unattended.

As the Mount of Olives is the highest point in the neighbourhoodof Jerusalem, it commands the best view of the town and its environs.The city is large, and lies spread over a considerable area. Thenumber of inhabitants is estimated at 25,000. As in the remainingcities of Syria, the houses here are built of stone, and frequentlyadorned with round cupolas. Jerusalem is surrounded by a verylofty and well-preserved wall, the lower portion composed of such massiveblocks of stone, that one might imagine these huge fragments date fromthe period of the city’s capture by Titus. Of the mosques,that of Omar, with its lead-covered roof, has the best appearance; itlies in an immense courtyard, which is neatly kept. This mosqueis said to occupy the site of Solomon’s temple.

From the Mount of Olives we can plainly distinguish all the convents,and the different quarters of the Catholics, Armenians, Jews, Greeks,etc. The “Mount of Offence” (so called on accountof Solomon’s idolatry) rises at the side of the Mount of Olives,and is of no great elevation. Of the temple, and the buildingswhich Solomon caused to be erected for his wives, but few fragmentsof walls remain. I had also been told, that the Jordan and theDead Sea might be seen from this mountain; but I could distinguish neither,probably on account of a mist which obscured the horizon.

At the foot of the Mount of Olives lies the valley of Jehosaphat.The length of this valley does not certainly exceed three miles; neitheris it remarkable for its breadth. The brook Cedron intersectsthis valley; but it only contains water during the rainy season; atother times all trace of it is lost.

The town of Jerusalem is rather bustling, particularly the poor-lookingbazaar and the Jews’ quarter; the latter portion of the city isvery densely populated, and exhales an odour offensive beyond description;and here the plague always seizes its first victims.

The Greek convent is not only very handsome, but of great extent.Hither most of the pilgrims flock, at Easter-time to the number of fiveor six thousand. Then they are all herded together, and everyplace is crowded with occupants; even the courtyard and terraces arefull. This convent is the richest of all, because every pilgrimreceived here has to pay an exorbitant price for the very worst accommodation.It is said that the poorest seldom escape for less than four hundredpiastres.

Handsomest of all is the Armenian convent; standing in the midstof gardens, it has a most cheerful appearance. It is assertedto be built on the site where St. James was decapitated, an event commemoratedby numerous pictures in the church; but most of the pictures, both hereand in the remaining churches, are bad beyond conception. Likethe Greeks, the Armenian priests enjoy the reputation of thoroughlyunderstanding how to make a harvest out of their visitors, whom theyare said generally to send away with empty pockets. As an amends,however, they offer them a great quantity of spiritual food.

In the valley of Jehosaphat we find many tombs of ancient and moderndate. The most ancient among these tombs is that of Absolom; alittle temple of pieces of rock, but without an entrance. Thesecond is the tomb of Zacharias, also hewn out of the rock, and dividedwithin into two compartments. The third belongs to King Jehosaphat,and is small and unimportant; one might almost call it a mere blockof stone. There are many more tombs cut out of the rock.From this place we reach the Jewish burial-ground.

The little village of Sila also lies in this valley. It isso humble, and all its houses (which are constructed of stone) are sosmall, that wandering continually among tombs, the traveller would rathertake them to be ruined resting-places of the dead than habitations ofthe living.

Opposite this village lies “Mary’s Well,” so calledbecause the Virgin Mary fetched water here every day. The inhabitantsof Siloam follow her example to this day. A little farther onis the pool of Siloam, where our Lord healed the man who was born blind.This pool is said to possess the remarkable property, that the waterdisappears and returns several times in the course of twenty-four hours.

At the extremity of the valley of Jehosaphat a small hill rises likea keystone; in this hill are several grottoes, formed either by natureor art, which also once served as sepulchres. They are calledthe “rock-graves.” At present the greater portionof them are converted into stables, and are in so filthy a state thatit is impossible to enter them. I peeped into one or two, andsaw nothing but a cavern divided into two parts. At the summitof these rock-graves lies the “Field of Blood,” bought bythe priests for the thirty pieces of silver which Judas cast down inthe temple.

In the neighbourhood of the Field of Blood rises the hill of Sion.Here, it is said, stood the house of Caiaphas the high-priest, whitherour Lord was brought a prisoner. A little Armenian church nowoccupies the supposed site. The tomb of David, also situated onthis hill, has been converted into a mosque, in which we are shewn theplace where the Son of Man ate the last Passover with His disciples.

The burial-grounds of the Roman Catholics, Armenians, and Greekssurround this hill.

The “Hill of Bad Counsel,” so called because it is saidthat here the judges determined to crucify Christ, rises in the immediatevicinity of Mount Sion. A few traces of the ruins of Caiaphas’house are yet visible.

The “Grotto of Jeremiah” lies beyond the “Gateof Damascus,” in front of which we found, near a cistern, an elaborately-sculpturedsarcophagus, which is used as a water-trough. This grotto is largerthan any I have yet mentioned. At the entrance stands a greatstone, called Jeremiah’s bed, because the prophet is said generallyto have slept upon it. Two miles farther on we come to the gravesof the judges and the kings. We descend an open pit, three orfour fathoms deep, forming the courtyard. This pit is a squareabout seventy feet long and as many wide. On one side of thisopen space we enter a large hall, its broad portal ornamented with beautifulsculpture, in the form of flowers, fruit, and arabesques. Thishall leads to the graves, which run round it, and consist of nicheshewn in the rock, just sufficiently large to contain a sarcophagus.Most of these niches were choked up with rubbish, but into some we couldstill see; they were all exactly alike. These long, narrow, rock-hewngraves reminded me exactly of those I had seen in a vault at Gran, inHungary. I could almost have supposed the architect at Gran hadtaken the graves of the valley of Jehosaphat for his model.

CHAPTER VIII.

Bethlehem—Rachel’s grave—Convent at Bethlehem—Beggars—Grottoof the Nativity—Solomon’s cisterns—St. John’s—Franciscanchurch at Jerusalem—Mourning women—Eastern weddings—Mish-mish—Excursionto the Jordan and the Dead Sea—Wilderness near Jerusalem—Conventof St. Saba.

On the 2d of June I rode, in the company of Counts Berchtold andSalm Reifferscheit and Pater Paul, to Bethlehem. Although, onaccount of the bad roads, we are obliged to ride nearly the whole distanceat a foot-pace, it does not take more than an hour and a half to accomplishthe journey. The view we enjoy during this excursion is as grandas it is peculiar. So far as the eye can reach, it rests uponstone; the ground is entirely composed of stones; and yet between therocky interstices grow fruit-trees of all kinds, and grape-vines trailalong, besides fields whose productions force their way upwards fromthe shingly soil.

I had already wondered when I saw the “Karst,” near Trieste,and the desert region of Görz; but these sink into insignificancewhen compared to the scenery of the Judean mountains.

It is difficult to conceive how these regions can ever have beensmiling and fertile. Doubtless they have appeared to better advantagethan at the present period, when the poor inhabitants are ground tothe bone by their pachas and officers; but I do not think that meadowsand woods can ever have existed here to any extent.

On the way we pass a well, surrounded by blocks of stone. Atthis well the wise men from the East rested, and here the guiding starappeared to them. Midway between Jerusalem and Bethlehem liesthe Greek convent dedicated to the prophet Elijah. From hencewe can see both towns; on the one hand, the spacious Jerusalem, andon the other, the humble Bethlehem, with some small villages scatteredround it. On the right hand we pass “Rachel’s grave,”a ruined building with a small cupola.

Bethlehem lies on a hill, surrounded by several others; with theexception of the convent, it contains not a single handsome building.The inhabitants, half of whom are Catholics, muster about 2500 strong;many live in grottoes and semi-subterranean domiciles, cutting out garlandsand other devices in mother-of pearl, etc. The number of housesdoes not exceed a hundred at the most, and the poverty here seems excessive,for nowhere have I been so much pestered with beggar children as inthis town. Hardly has the stranger reached the convent-gates beforethese urchins are seen rapidly approaching from all quarters.One rushes forward to hold the horse, while a second grasps the stirrup;a third and a fourth present their arm to help you to dismount; andin the end the whole swarm unanimously stretch forth their hands for“backsheesh.” In cases like these it is quite necessaryto come furnished either with a multiplicity of small coins or witha riding-whip, in order to be delivered in one way or another from thehorrible importunity of the diminutive mob. It is very fortunatethat the horses here are perfectly accustomed to such scenes; were thisnot the case, they would take fright and gallop headlong away.

The little convent and church are both situated near the town, andare built on the spot where the Saviour was born. The whole issurrounded by a strong fortress-wall, a very low, narrow gate formingthe entrance. In front of this fortress extends a handsome well-pavedarea. So soon as we have passed through the little gate, we findourselves in the courtyard, or rather in the nave of the church, whichis unfortunately more than half destroyed, but must once have been eminentboth for its size and beauty. Some traces of mosaic can stillbe detected on the walls. Two rows of high handsome pillars, forty-eightin number, intersect the interior; and the beam-work, said to be ofcedar-wood from Lebanon, looks almost new. Beneath the high altarof this great church is the grotto in which Christ was born. Twostaircases lead downwards to it. One of the staircases belongsto the Armenians, the other to the Greeks; the Catholics have none atall. Both the walls and the floor are covered with marble slabs.A marble tablet, with the inscription,

“HIC DE VIRGINE MARIA JESUS CHRISTUS NATUS EST,”

marks the spot whence the true Light shone abroad over the world.A figure of a beaming sun, which receives its light from numerous lampskept continually burning, is placed in the back-ground of this tablet.

The spot where our Saviour was shewn to the worshipping Magi is butfew paces distant. An altar is erected opposite, on the placewhere the manger stood in which the shepherds found our Lord.The manger itself is deposited in the basilica Santa Maria Maggiore,in Rome. This altar belongs to the Roman Catholics. A littledoor, quite in the background of the grotto, leads to a subterraneanpassage communicating with the convent and the Catholic chapel.In this passage another altar has been erected to the memory of theinnocents slaughtered and buried here. Proceeding along the passagewe come upon the grave of St. Paula and her daughter Eustachia on oneside, and that of St. Hieronymus on the other. The body of thelatter is, however, deposited at Rome.

Like the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, this great churchat Bethlehem belongs at once to the Catholics, the Armenians, and theGreeks. Each of these sects has built for itself a little conventadjoining the church.

After spending at least a couple of hours here, we rode two milesfarther, towards Mount Hebron. At the foot of this mountain weturned off to the left towards the three cisterns of Solomon.These reservoirs are very wide and deep, hewn out of the rock, and stillpartially covered with a kind of cement resembling marble in its consistencyand polish. We descended into the third of these cisterns; itwas about five hundred paces long, four hundred broad, and a hundreddeep.

Not one of these cisterns now contains water; the aqueducts whichonce communicated with them have entirely vanished. A single rivulet,across which one may easily step, flows beside these giant reservoirs.The region around is barren in the extreme.

On returning to our convent at about two o’clock to partakeof our frugal but welcome meal, we were surprised to find that anotherparty of travellers, Franks like ourselves, had arrived. The new-comersproved to be Count Zichy and Count Wratislaw, who had travelled fromVienna to Cairo in company with Counts Berchtold and Salm Reifferscheit.At the last-mentioned place the voyagers parted company, one party proceedingto Jerusalem by way of Alexandria, Damietta, and Joppa, while the otherbent their course across the burning sands of Africa towards Mount Sinai,and thence continued their journey to Jerusalem by land. Hereat length they had the pleasure of meeting once more. A greatand general rejoicing, in which we all joined, was the consequence ofthis event.

After dinner we once more visited all the holy places in companyof the new-comers; we afterwards went to the so-called “Milk Grotto,”distant about half a mile from our convent. In this grotto thereis nothing to be seen but a simple altar, before which lights are continuallyburning. It is not locked, and every passer-by is at liberty toenter. This place is held sacred not only by the Christians, butalso by the Turks, who bring many a cruise of oil to fill the lampsafter they have cleaned them. In this grotto the Holy Family concealedthemselves before the flight into Egypt, and the Virgin for a long timenourished the infant Jesus with her milk, from which circ*mstance thegrotto derives its name. The women in the neighbourhood believethat if they feel unwell during the time they are nursing their children,they have merely to scrape some of the sand from the rocks in this grotto,and to take it as a powder, to regain their health.

Half a mile from this grotto we were shown the field in which theangel appeared to announce the birth of the Redeemer to the shepherds.But our newly-arrived friends were not able to visit this spot.They were fain to content themselves with a distant view, as it washigh time to think of our return.

ST. JOHN’S.

On the 4th of June I rode out, accompanied by a guide, to the birth-placeof St. John the Baptist, distant about four miles from Jerusalem.The way to this convent lies through the Bethlehem Gate, opposite theconvent of the “Holy Cross,” a building supposed to standon the site where the wood was felled for our Saviour’s cross!Not far off, the place was pointed out to me where a battle was foughtbetween the Israelites and the Philistines, and where David slew Goliath.

Situated in a rocky valley, the convent of St. John is, like allthe monasteries in these lands, surrounded by very strong walls.The church of the convent is erected on the spot where the house ofZacharias once stood, and a chapel commemorates the place where St.John first beheld the light. The ascent to this chapel is by astaircase, where a round tablet of stone bears the inscription,

“HIC PRÆCURSOR DOMINI CHRISTI NATUS EST.”

Many events of the prophet’s life are here portrayed by sculpturesin white marble.

About a mile from the convent we find the “Grotto of Visitation,”where St. Mary met St. Elizabeth. The remains of the latter areinterred here.

On the very first day of my arrival at Jerusalem I had made someobservations, during a visit to the church of St. Francis, which gaveme any thing but a high opinion of the behaviour of the Catholics here.This unfavourable impression was confirmed by subsequent visits to thechurch, so that at length I felt obliged to tell Father Paul that Iwould rather pray at home than among people who seemed to attend toany thing rather than their devotions. My Frankish costume seemedto be such a stumbling-block in the eyes of these people, that at lengtha priest came to me, and requested that I would make an alteration inmy dress, or at any rate exchange my straw hat for a veil, in whichI could muffle my head and face. I promised to discard the obnoxioushat and to wear a handkerchief round my head when I attended church,but refused to muffle my face, and begged the reverend gentleman toinform my fellow-worshippers that this was the first time such a thinghad been required of a Frankish woman, and that I thought they wouldbe more profitably employed in looking at their prayer-books than atme, for that He whom we go to church to adore is not a respecter ofoutward things. In spite of this remonstrance, their behaviourremained the same, so that I was compelled almost to discontinue attendingpublic worship.

On great festival-days the high altar of the church of St. Francisis very profusely decorated. It is, in fact, almost overloadedwith ornament, and sparkles and glitters with a most dazzling brilliancy.Innumerable candles display the lustre of gold and precious stones.Foremost among the costly ornaments appear a huge gold monstrance presentedby the king of Naples, and two splendid candelabra, a gift of the imperialhouse of Austria.

I happened one day to pass a house, from within which a great screamingwas to be heard. On inquiring of my companion what was the matter,I was informed that some person had died in that house the day before,and that the sound I heard was the wail of the “mourning women.”I requested admission to the room where the deceased lay. Hadit not been for the circ*mstance that a few pictures of saints and acrucifix decorated the walls, I could never have imagined that the deadman was a Catholic. Several “mourning women” sat nearthe corpse, uttering every now and then such frantic yells, that theneighbourhood rang with their din. In the intervals between thesedemonstrations they sat comfortably regaling themselves with coffee;after a little time they would again raise their horrible cry.I had seen enough to feel excessively disgusted, and so went away.

I was also fortunate enough to visit a newly-married pair.The bride was gorgeously dressed in a silk under-garment, wide trousersof peach-blossom satin, and a caftan of the same material; a rich shawlencircled her waist, and on her feet she wore boots of yellow moroccoleather; the slippers had been left, according to the Turkish fashion,at the entrance of the chamber. An ornamental head-dress of richgold brocade and fresh flowers completed the bride’s attire; herhair, arranged in a number of thin plaits and decorated with coins,fell down upon her shoulders, and on her neck glittered several rowsof ducats and larger gold pieces.

Costumes of this kind are only seen in the family circle, and onthe occasion of some great event. Seldom or never are strangemen allowed to behold the ladies in their gorgeous apparel; so thatit is fruitless to expect to see picturesque female costumes in thepublic places of the East.

After the marriage ceremony, which is always performed during theforenoon, the young wife is compelled to sit for the remainder of theday in a corner of the room with her face turned towards the wall.She is not allowed to answer any question put by her husband, her parents,or by any one whatever; still less is she permitted to offer a remarkherself. This silence is intended to typify the bride’ssorrow at changing her condition.

During my visit, the bridegroom sat next to his bride, vainly endeavouringto lure a few words from her. On my rising to depart, the youngwife inclined her head towards me, but without raising her eyes fromthe ground.

In Jerusalem, almost all the women and girls wear veils when theygo abroad. It was only in church, and in their own houses, thatI had an opportunity of fairly seeing these houris. Among thegirls I found many an interesting head; but the women who have attainedthe age of twenty-six or twenty-eight years already look worn and ugly;so that here, as in all tropical countries, we behold a great numberof very plain faces, among which handsome ones shine forth at long intervals,like meteors. Thin people are rarely met with in Syria; on thecontrary, even the young girls are frequently decidedly stout.

Not far from the bazaar is a great hall, wherein the Turks hold theirjudicial sittings, decide disputes, and pass sentence on criminals.Some ordinary-looking divans are placed round the interior of this hall,and in one corner a wooden cell, about ten feet long, six wide, andeight feet high, has been erected. This cell, furnished with alittle door, and a grated hole by way of window, is intended for thereception of the criminal during his period of punishment.

Throughout the thirteen days I passed at Jerusalem, I did not findthe heat excessive. The thermometer generally stood in the shadeat from 20° to 22°, and in the sun at 28° (Reaum.), veryseldom reaching 30°.

Fruit I saw none, with the exception of the little apricots calledmish-mish, which are not larger than a walnut, but nevertheless havea very fine flavour. It is a pity that the inhabitants of thesecountries contribute absolutely nothing towards the cultivation andimprovement of their natural productions; if they would but exert themselves,many a plant would doubtless flourish luxuriantly. But here thepeople do not even know how to turn those gifts to advantage which naturehas bestowed upon them in rich profusion, and of superior quality; forinstance, olives. Worse oil can hardly be procured than that whichthey give you in Syria. The Syrian oil and olives can scarcelybe used by Europeans. The oil is of a perfectly green colour,thick, and disgusting alike to the smell and taste; the olives are generallyblack, a consequence of the negligent manner in which they are prepared.The same remark holds good with regard to the wine, which would be ofexcellent quality if the people did but understand the proper methodof preparing it, and of cultivating the vineyards. At present,however, they adulterate their wine with a kind of herb, which givesit a very sharp and disagreeable taste.

On the whole, the neighbourhood of Jerusalem is very desolate, barren,and sterile. I found the town itself neither more nor less animatedthan most Syrian cities. I should depart from truth if I wereto say, with many travellers, that it appeared as though a peculiarcurse rested upon this city. The whole of Judea is a stony country,and this region contains many places with environs as rugged and barrenas those of Jerusalem.

Birds and butterflies are rarely seen at the present season of theyear, not only in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, but throughout thewhole of Syria. Where, indeed, could a butterfly or a bee findnourishment, while not a flower nor a blade of grass shoots up fromthe stony earth? And a bird cannot live where there are neitherseeds nor insects, but must soar away across the seas to cooler andmore fertile climes. Not only here, but throughout the whole ofSyria, I missed the delightful minstrels of the air. The sparrowalone can find sustenance every where, for he lives in towns and villages,wherever man is seen. A whole flock of these little twitteringbirds woke me every morning.

I was as yet much less troubled by insects than I had anticipated.With the exception of the small flies on the plain of Sharon, and ofcertain little sable jumpers which seem naturalised throughout the wholeworld, I could not complain of having been annoyed by any creature.

Our common house-flies I saw every where; but they were not morenumerous or more troublesome than in Germany.

EXCURSION TO THE RIVER JORDAN AND TO THE DEAD SEA.

To travel with any degree of security in Palestine, Phœnicia,etc., it is necessary to go in large companies, and in some places iteven becomes advisable to have an escort. The stranger shouldfurther be provided with cooking utensils, provisions, tents, and servants.To provide all these things would have been a hopeless task for me;I had therefore resolved to return from Jerusalem as I had come, namely,via Joppa, and so to proceed to Alexandria or Beyrout, when,luckily for me, the gentlemen whom I have already mentioned arrivedat Jerusalem. They intended making several excursions by land,and the first of these was to be a trip to the banks of the Jordan andto the Dead Sea.

I ardently wished to visit these places, and therefore begged thegentlemen, through Father Paul, to permit my accompanying them on theirarduous journey. The gentlemen were of opinion that their proposedtour would be too fatiguing for one of my sex, and seemed disinclinedto accede to my request. But then Count Wratislaw took my part,and said that he had watched me during our ride from Bethlehem to Jerusalem,and had noticed that I wanted neither courage, skill, nor endurance,so that they might safely take me with them. Father Paul immediatelycame to me with the joyful intelligence that I was to go, and that Ihad nothing to do but to provide myself with a horse. He particularlymentioned how kindly Count Wratislaw, to whom I still feel obliged,had interested himself in my behalf.

The journey to the Jordan and the Dead Sea should never be undertakenby a small party. The best and safest course is to send for someArab or Bedouin chiefs, either at Jerusalem or Bethlehem, and to makea contract with them for protection. In consideration of a certaintribute, these chiefs accompany you in person, with some of their tribe,to your place of destination and back again. The Counts paid thetwo chiefs three hundred piastres, with the travelling expenses forthemselves and their twelve men.

At three o’clock in the afternoon of the 7th of June our cavalcadestarted. The caravan consisted of the four counts, Mr. Bartlett,a certain Baron Wrede, two doctors, and myself, besides five or sixservants, and the two chiefs with the body-guard of twelve Arabs.All were strongly armed with guns, pistols, swords, and lances, andwe really looked as though we sallied forth with the intention of havinga sharp skirmish.

Our way lay through the Via Dolorosa, and through St. Stephen’sGate, past the Mount of Olives, over hill and dale. Every wherethe scene was alike barren. At first we still saw many fruit-treesand olive-trees in bloom, and even vines, but of flowers or grass therewas not a trace; the trees, however, stood green and fresh, in spiteof the heat of the atmosphere and the total lack of rain. Thisluxuriance may partly be owing to the coolness and dampness which reignsduring the night in tropical countries, quickening and renewing thewhole face of nature.

The goal of our journey for to-day lay about eight miles distantfrom Jerusalem. It was the Greek convent of “St. Saba inthe Waste.” The appellation already indicates that the regionaround becomes more and more sterile, until at length not a single treeor shrub can be detected. Throughout the whole expanse not thelowliest human habitation was to be seen. We only passed a hordeof Bedouins, who had erected their sooty-black tents in the dry bedof a river. A few goats, horses, and asses climbed about the declivities,laboriously searching for herbs or roots.

About half an hour before we reach the convent we enter upon thewilderness in which our Saviour fasted forty days, and was afterwards“tempted of the devil.” Vegetation here entirely ceases;not a shrub nor a root appears; and the bed of the brook Cedron is completelydry. This river only flows during the rainy season, at which periodit runs through a deep ravine. Majestic rocky terraces, piledone above the other by nature with such exquisite symmetry that thebeholder gazes in silent wonder, overhang both banks of the stream inthe form of galleries.

A silence of death brooded over the whole landscape, broken onlyby the footfalls of our horses echoing sullenly from the rocks, amongwhich the poor animals struggled heavily forward. At intervalssome little birds fluttered above our heads, silently and fearfully,as though they had lost their way. At length we turn sharply roundan angle of the road,—and what a surprise awaits us! A largehandsome building, surrounded by a very strong fortified wall, piercedfor cannon in several places, lies spread before us near the bed ofthe river, and rises in the form of terraces towards the brow of thehill. From the position we occupied, we could see over the wholeextent of wall from without and from within. Fortified as it was,it lay open before our gaze. Several buildings, and in front ofall a church with a small cupola, told us plainly that St. Saba laystretched below.

On the farther bank, seven or eight hundred paces from the convent,rose a single square tower, apparently of great strength. I littlethought that I should soon become much better acquainted with this isolatedbuilding.

The priests had observed our procession winding down the hill, andat the first knocking the gate was opened. Masters, servants,Arabs, and Bedouins, all passed through; but when my turn came, thecry was, “Shut the gate!” and I was shut out, with the prospectof passing the night in the open air,—a thing which would havebeen rather disagreeable, considering how unsafe the neighbourhood was.At length, however, a lay brother appeared, and, pointing to the tower,gave me to understand that I should be lodged there. He procureda ladder from the convent, and went with me to the tower, where we mountedby its aid to a little low doorway of iron. My conductor pushedthis open, and we crept in. The interior of the tower seemed spaciousenough. A wooden staircase led us farther upwards to two tinyrooms, situated about the centre of the tower. One of these apartments,dimly lighted by the rays of a lamp, contained a small altar, and servedas a chapel, while the second was used as a sleeping-room for femalepilgrims. A wooden divan was the only piece of furniture thisroom contained. My conductor now took his leave, promising toreturn in a short time with some provisions, a bolster, and a coverletfor me.

So now I was at least sheltered for the night, and guarded like acaptive princess by bolt and bar. I could not even have fled hadI wished to do so, for my leader had locked the creaking door behindhim, and taken away the ladder. After carefully examining thechapel and my neatly-furnished apartment in this dreary prison-house,I mounted the staircase, and gained the summit of the tower. HereI had a splendid view of the country round about, my elevated positionenabling me distinctly to trace the greater part of the desert, withits several rows of hills and mountains skirting the horizon.All these hills were alike barren and naked; not a tree nor a shrub,not a human habitation, could I discover. Silence lay heavilyon every thing around, and it seemed to me almost as though no earthmight here nourish a green tree, but that the place was ordained toremain a desert, as a lasting memorial of our Saviour’s fasting.Unheeded by human eye, the sun sank beneath the mountains; I was, perhaps,the only mortal here who was watching its beautiful declining tints.Deeply moved by the scene around me, I fell on my knees, to offer upmy prayers and praise to the Almighty, here in the rugged grandeur ofthe desert.

But I had only to turn away from the death-like silence, and to castmy eye towards the convent as it lay spread out before me, to view oncemore the bustle and turmoil of life. In the courtyard the Bedouinsand Arabs were employed in ministering to the wants of their horses,bringing them water and food; beyond these a group of men was seen spreadingmats on the ground, while others, with their faces bowed to the earth,were adoring, with other forms of prayer, the Omnipotent Spirit whoseprotection I had so lately invoked; others, again, were washing theirhands and feet as a preparation for offering up their worship; priestsand lay brethren passed hastily across the courtyard, busied in preparationsfor entertaining and lodging the numerous guests; while some of my fellow-travellersstood apart, in earnest conversation, and Mr. B. and Count Salm Reifferscheitreclined in a quiet spot and made sketches of the convent. Hada painter been standing on my tower, what a picture of the buildingmight he not have drawn as the wild Arab and the thievish Bedouin leantquietly beside the peaceful priest and the curious European! Manya pleasant recollection of this evening have I borne away with me.

I was very unwilling to leave the battlements of the tower; but theincreasing darkness at length drove me back into my chamber. Shortlyafterwards a priest and a lay brother appeared, and with them Mr. Bartlett.The priest’s errand was to bring me my supper and bedding, andmy English fellow-traveller had kindly come to inquire if I would havea few servants as a guard, as it must be rather a dreary thing to passa night quite alone in that solitary tower. I was much flatteredby Mr. Bartlett’s politeness to a total stranger, but, summoningall my courage, replied that I was not in the least afraid. Thereuponthey all took their leave; I heard the door creak, the bolt was drawn,and the ladder removed, and I was left to my meditations for the night.

After a good night’s rest, I rose with the sun, and had beenwaiting some time before my warder appeared with the coffee for my breakfast.He afterwards accompanied me to the convent gate, where my companionsgreeted me with high praises; some of them even confessed that theywould not like to pass a solitary night as I had done.

CHAPTER IX.

Ride through the wilderness to the Dead Sea—The Dead Sea—Theriver Jordan—Horde of Bedouins—Arab horses—The Sultan’swell—Bivouac in the open air—Return to Jerusalem—Bethany—Departurefrom Jerusalem—Jacob’s grave—Nablus or Sichem—Sebasta—Costumeof Samaritan women—Plain of Esdralon—Sagun.

June 8th.

At five o’clock in the morning we departed, and bent our coursetowards the Dead Sea. After a ride of two hours we could see it,apparently at such a short distance, that we thought half an hour atthe most would bring us there. But the road wound betwixt themountains, sometimes ascending, sometimes descending, so that it tookus another two hours to reach the shore of the lake. All aroundus was sand. The rocks seem pulverised; we ride through a labyrinthof monotonous sand-heaps and sand-hills, behind which the robber-tribesof Arabs and Bedouins frequently lurk, making this part of the journeyexceedingly unsafe.

Before we reach the shore, we ride across a plain consisting, likethe rest, of deep sand, so that the horses sink to the fetlocks at everystep. On the whole of our way we had not met with a single humanbeing, with the exception of the horde of Bedouins whom we had foundencamped in the river-bed: this was a fortunate circ*mstance for us,for the people whom the traveller meets during these journeys are generallyunable to resist the temptation of seizing upon his goods, so that brokenbones are frequently the result of such meetings.

The day was very hot (33° Reaum). We encamped in the hotsand on the shore, under the shelter of our parasols, and made our breakfastof hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bad bread, and some lukewarm water.I tasted the sea-water, and found it much more bitter, salt, and pungentthan any I have met with elsewhere. We all dipped our hands intothe lake, and afterwards suffered the heat of the air to dry them withouthaving first rinsed them with fresh water; not one of us had to complainthat this brought forth an itching or an eruption on our hands, as manytravellers have asserted. The temperature of the water was 33°Reaum.; in colour it is a pale green. Near the shore the wateris to a certain extent transparent; but as it deepens it seems turbid,and the eye can no longer pierce the surface. We could not evensee far across the water, for a light mist seemed to rest upon it, thuspreventing us from forming a good estimate of its breadth.

To judge from what we could distinguish, however, the Dead Sea doesnot appear to be very broad; it may rather be termed an oblong lake,shut in by mountains, than a sea. Not the slightest sign of lifecan be detected in the water; not a ripple disturbs its sleeping surface.A boat of any kind is of course quite out of the question. Someyears since, however, an Englishman made an attempt to navigate thislake; for this purpose he caused a boat to be built, but did not progressfar in his undertaking,—a sickness came upon him, he was carriedto Jerusalem, and died soon after he had made the experiment.It is rather a remarkable fact that, up to the present moment, no Englishmanhas been found who was sufficiently weary of his life to imitate hiscountryman’s attempt.

Stunted fragments of drift-wood, most probably driven to shore bytempests, lay scattered every where around. We could, however,discover no fields of salt; neither did we see smoke rising, or findthe exhalations from the sea unpleasant. These phenomena are perhapsobserved at a different season of the year to that in which I visitedthe Dead Sea. On the other hand, I saw not only separate birds,but sometimes even flights of twelve or fifteen. Vegetation alsoexisted here to a certain extent. Not far from the shore, I noticed,in a little ravine, a group of eight acicular-leaved trees. Onthis plain there were also some wild shrubs bearing capers, and a descriptionof tall shrub, not unlike our bramble, bearing a plentiful crop of redberries, very juicy and sweet. We all ate largely of them; andI was the more surprised at finding these plants here, as I had foundit uniformly stated that animal and vegetable life was wholly extincton the shores of the Dead Sea.

Five cities, of which not a trace now remains, once lay in the plainnow filled by this sea—their names were Sodom, Gomorrah, Adama,Zeboin, and Zona. A feeling of painful emotion, mingled with awe,took possession of my soul as I thought of the past, and saw how theworks of proud and mighty nations had vanished away, leaving behindthem only a name and a memory. It was a relief to me when we prepared,after an hour’s rest, to quit this scene of dreary desolation.

For about an hour and a half we rode through an enormous waste coveredwith trailing weeds, towards the verdant banks of the Jordan, whichare known from a distance by the beautiful blooming green of the meadowsthat surround it. We halted in the so-called “Jordan-vale,”where our Saviour was baptised by St. John.

The water of the Jordan is of a dingy clay-colour; its course isvery rapid. The breadth of this stream can scarcely exceed twenty-fivefeet, but its depth is said to be considerable. The moment ourArab companions reached the bank, they flung themselves, heated as theywere, into the river. Most of the gentlemen followed their example,but less precipitately. I was fain to be content with washingmy face, hands, and feet. We all drank to our hearts’ content,for it was long since we had obtained water so cool and fresh.I filled several tin bottles, which I had brought with me for this purposefrom Jerusalem, with water from the Jordan, and had them soldered downon my return to the Holy City. This is the only method with whichI am acquainted for conveying water to the farthest countries withoutit* turning putrid.

We halted for a few hours beneath the shady trees, and then pursuedour journey across the plain. Suddenly a disturbance arose amongour Arab protectors; they spoke very anxiously with one another, andcontinually pointed to some distant object. On inquiring the reasonwhy they were so disturbed, we were told that they saw robbers.We strained our eyes in vain; even with the help of good spy-glasseswe could discover nothing, and already began to suspect our escort ofhaving cried “wolf” without reason, or merely to convinceus that we had not taken them with us for nothing. But in abouta quarter of an hour we could dimly discern figures emerging, one byone, from the far, far distance. Our Bedouins prepared for thecombat, and advised us to take the opposite road while they advancedto encounter the enemy. But all the gentlemen wished to take partin the expedition, and joined the Bedouins, lusting for battle.The whole cavalcade rode off at a rapid pace, leaving Count Berchtoldand myself behind. But when our steeds saw their companions gallopingoff in such fiery style, they scorned to remain idly behind, and withoutconsulting our inclinations in the least, they ran of at a pace whichfairly took away our breath. The more we attempted to restraintheir headlong course, the more rapidly did they pursue their career,so that there appeared every prospect of our becoming the first, insteadof the last, among the company. But when the enemy saw such adetermined troop advancing to oppose them, they hurried off withoutawaiting our onset, and left us masters of the field. So we returnedin triumph to our old course; when suddenly a wild boar, with its hopefulfamily, rushed across our path. Away we all went in chase of thepoor animals. Count Wratislaw succeeded in cutting down one ofthe young ones with his sabre, and it was solemnly delivered up to thecook. No further obstacles opposed themselves to our march, andwe reached our resting-place for the night without adventure of anykind.

On this occasion I had an opportunity of seeing how the Arabs canmanage their horses, and how they can throw their spears and lancesin full career, and pick up the lances as they fly by. The horses,too, appear quite different to when they are travelling at their usualsleepy pace. At first sight these horses look any thing but handsome.They are thin, and generally walk at a slow pace, with their heads hangingdown. But when skilful riders mount these creatures, they appearas if transformed. Lifting their small graceful heads with thefiery eyes, they throw out their slender feet with matchless swiftness,and bound away over stock and stone with a step so light and yet sosecure that accidents very rarely occur. It is quite a treat tosee the Arabs exercise. Those who escorted us good-naturedly wentthrough several of their manœuvres for our amusem*nt.

From the valley of the Jordan to the “Sultan’s Well,”in the vale of Jericho, is a distance of about six miles. Theroad winds, from the commencement of the valley, through a beautifulnatural park of fig-trees and other fruit-trees. Here, too, wasthe first spot where the eye was gladdened by the sight of a piece ofgrass, instead of sand and shingle. Such a change is doubly gratefulto one who has been travelling so long through the barren, sandy desert.

The village lying beside the Sultan’s Well looks most deplorable.The inhabitants seem rather to live under than above the ground.I went into a few of these hollows. I do not know how elseto designate these little stoneheap-houses. Many of them are entirelydestitute of windows, the light finding its way through the hole leftfor an entrance. The interiors contained only straw-mats and afew dirty mattresses, not stuffed with feathers, but with leaves oftrees. All the domestic utensils are comprised in a few trenchersand water-jugs: the poor people were clothed in rags. In one cornersome grain and a number of cucumbers were stored up. A few sheepand goats were roaming about in the open air. A field of cucumberslies in front of every house. Our Bedouins were in high glee atfinding this valuable vegetable in such abundance. We encampedbeside the well, under the vault of heaven.

From the appearance of the valley in its present state, it is easyto conclude, in spite of the poverty of the inhabitants and the airof desolation spread over the farther landscape, that it must once havebeen very blooming and fertile.

On the right, the naked mountains extend in the direction of theDead Sea; on the left rises the hill on which Moses completed his earthlycareer, and from which his great spirit fled to a better world.On the face of the mountain three caves are visible, and in the centreone we were told the Saviour had dwelt during his preparation in thewilderness before undertaking his mission of a teacher. High abovethese caves towers the summit of the rock from which Satan promisedto give our Lord the sovereignty of all the earth if He would fall downand worship him.

Baron Wrede, Mr. Bartlett, and myself were desirous of seeing theinterior of one of these caves, and started with this intention; butno sooner did one of our Bedouins perceive what we were about, thanhe came running up in hot haste to assure us that the whole neighbourhoodwas unsafe. We therefore turned back, the more willingly as thetwilight, or rather sunset, was already approaching.

Twilight in these latitudes is of very short duration. At sunrisethe shades of night are changed into the blaze of day as suddenly asthe daylight vanishes into night.

Our supper consisted of rather a smoky pilau, which we neverthelessrelished exceedingly; for people who have eaten nothing throughout theday but a couple of hard-boiled eggs are seldom fastidious about theirfare at night. Besides, we had now beautiful fresh water fromthe spring, and cucumbers in abundance, though without vinegar or oil.But to what purpose would the unnatural mixture have been? Whoeverwishes to travel should first strive to disencumber himself of whatis artificial, and then he will get on capitally. The ground wasour bed, and the dark blue ether, with its myriads of stars, our canopy.On this journey we had not taken a tent with us.

The aspect of the heavens is most beautiful here in Syria.By day the whole firmament is of a clear azure—not a cloud sulliesits perfect brightness; and at night it seems spangled with a far greaternumber of stars than in our northern climes.

Count Zichy ordered the servants to call us betimes in the morning,in order that we might set out before sunrise. For once the servantsobeyed; in fact they more than obeyed, for they roused us before midnight,and we began our march. So long as we kept to the plain, all wentwell; but whenever we were obliged to climb a mountain, one horse afteranother began to stumble and to stagger, so that we were in continualdanger of falling. Under these circ*mstances it was unanimouslyresolved that we should halt beneath the next declivity, and there awaitthe coming daylight.

June 9th.

At four o’clock the reveille was beaten for the second time.We had now slept for three hours in the immediate neighbourhood of theDead Sea, a circ*mstance of which we were not aware until daybreak:not one of our party had noticed any noxious exhalation arising fromthe water; still less had we been seized with headache or nausea, aneffect stated by several travellers to be produced by the smell of theDead Sea.

Our journey homewards now progressed rapidly, though for three orfour hours we were obliged to travel over most formidable mountain-roadsand through crooked ravines. In one of the valleys we again cameupon a Bedouin’s camp. We rode up to the tents and askedfor a draught of water, instead of which these people very kindly gaveus some dishes of excellent buttermilk. In all my life I neverpartook of any thing with so keen a relish as that with which I drankthis cooling beverage after my fatiguing ride in the burning heat.Count Zichy offered our entertainers some money, but they would nottake it. The chief stepped forward and shook several of us bythe hand in token of friendship; for from the moment when a strangerhas broken bread with Bedouins or Arabs, or has applied to them forprotection, he is not only safe among their tribe, but they would defendhim with life and limb from the attacks of his enemies. Stillit is not advisable to meet them on the open plain; so contradictoryare their manners and customs.

We were now advancing with great strides towards a more animated,if not a more picturesque landscape, and frequently met and overtooksmall caravans. One of these had been attacked the previous evening;the poor Arabs had offered a brave resistance, and had beaten off thefoe; but one of them was lying half dead upon his camel, with a ghastlyshot-wound in his head.

Nimble long-eared goats were diligently searching among the rocksfor their scanty food, and a few grottoes or huts of stone announcedto us the proximity of a little town or village. Right thankfulwere we to emerge safely from these fearful deserts into a less sterileand more populous region.

We passed through Bethany, and I visited the cave in which it issaid that Lazarus slumbered before he came forth alive at the voiceof the Redeemer. Then we journeyed on to Jerusalem by the sameroad on which the Saviour travelled when the Jewish people shewed theirattachment and respect, for the last time, by strewing olive and palmbranches in his way. How soon was this scene of holy rejoicingchanged to the ghastly spectacle of the Redeemer’s torture anddeath!

Towards two o’clock in the afternoon we arrived safely at Jerusalem,and were greeted with a hearty welcome by our kind hosts.

A few days after my return from the foregoing excursion, I left Jerusalemfor ever. A calm and peaceful feeling of happiness filled my breast;and ever shall I be thankful to the Almighty that He has vouchsafedme to behold these realms. Is this happiness dearly purchasedby the dangers, fatigues, and privations attendant upon it? Surelynot. And what, indeed, are all the ills that chequer our existencehere below to the woes endured by the blessed Founder of our religion!The remembrance of these holy places, and of Him who lived and sufferedhere, shall surely strengthen and console me wherever I may be and whateverI may be called upon to endure.

FROM JERUSALEM TO BEYROUT.

My gentleman-protectors wished to journey from Jerusalem to Beyroutby land, and intended taking a circuitous route, by way of Nazareth,Galilee, Canaan, etc., in order to visit as many of these places aspossible, which are fraught with such interest to us Christians.They were once more kind enough to admit me into their party, and the11th of June was fixed for our departure.

June 11th.

Quitting Jerusalem at three o’clock in the afternoon, we emergedfrom the Damascus Gate, and entered a large elevated plateau.Though this region is essentially a stony one, I saw several stubble-fields,and even a few scanty blades of grass.

The view is very extended; at a distance of four miles the wallsof Jerusalem were still in view, till at length the road curved rounda hill, and the Holy City was for ever hidden from our sight.

On the left of the road, an old church, said to have been erectedin the days of Samuel, stands upon a hill.

At six in the evening we reached the little village of Bir, and fixedour halting-place for the night in a neighbouring stubble-field.During my first journey by land (I mean my ride from Joppa to Jerusalem),I had already had a slight foretaste of what is to be endured by thetraveller in these regions. Whoever is not very hardy and courageous,and insensible to hunger, thirst, heat, and cold; whoever cannot sleepon the hard ground, or even on stones, passing the cold nights underthe open sky, should not pursue his journey farther than from Joppato Jerusalem: for, as we proceed, the fatigues become greater and lessendurable, and the roads are more formidable to encounter; besides this,the food is so bad that we only eat from fear of starvation; and theonly water we can get to drink is lukewarm, and offensive from the leathernjars in which it is kept.

We usually rode for six or seven hours at a time without alightingeven for a moment, though the thermometer frequently stood at from 30°to 34° Reaumur. Afterwards we rested for an hour at the most;and this halt was often made in the open plain, where not a tree wasin sight. Refreshment was out of the question, either for theriders or the poor beasts, and frequently we had not even water to quenchour burning thirst. The horses were compelled to labour unceasinglyfrom sunrise until evening, without even receiving a feed during theday’s journey. The Arabian horse is the only one capableof enduring so much hardship. In the evening these poor creaturesare relieved of their burdens, but very seldom of the saddle; for theArabs assert that it is less dangerous for the horse to bear the saddleday and night, than that it should be exposed when heated by the day’stoil to the cold night-air. Bridles, saddles, and stirrups wereall in such bad condition that we were in continual danger of fallingto the ground, saddle and all. In fact, this misfortune happenedto many of our party, but luckily it was never attended with seriousresults.

June 12th.

The night was very chilly; although we slept in a tent, our thickcloaks scarcely sufficed to shield us from the night-air. In themorning the fog was so dense that we could not see thirty paces beforeus. Towards eight o’clock it rolled away, and a few hourslater the heat of the sun began to distress us greatly. It isscarcely possible to guard too carefully against the effects of theheat; the head should in particular be kept always covered, as carelessnessin this respect may bring on coup de soleil. I always woretwo pocket handkerchiefs round my head, under my straw hat, and continuallyused a parasol.

From Bir to Jabrud, where we rested for a few hours, we travelledfor six hours through a monotonous and sterile country. We hadstill a good four hours’ ride before us to Nablus, our resting-placefor the night.

The roads here are bad beyond conception, so that at first the strangerdespairs of passing them either on foot or on horseback. Frequentlythe way leads up hill and down dale, over great masses of rock; andI was truly surprised at the strength and agility of our poor horses,which displayed extraordinary sagacity in picking out the little ledgeson which they could place their feet safely in climbing from rock torock. Sometimes we crossed smooth slabs of stone, where the horseswere in imminent danger of slipping; at others, the road led us pastfrightful chasms, the sight of which was sufficient to make me dizzy.I had read many accounts of these roads, and was prepared to find thembad enough; but my expectations were far surpassed by the reality.All that the traveller can do is to trust in Providence, and abandonhimself to fate and to the sagacity of his horse.

An hour and a half before we reached the goal of this day’sjourney, we passed the grave of the patriarch Jacob. Had our attentionnot been particularly drawn to this monument, we should have riddenby without noticing it, for a few scattered blocks of stone are allthat remain. A little farther on we enter the Samaritan territory,and here is “Jacob’s well,” where our Saviour heldconverse with the woman of Samaria. The masonry of the well hasaltogether vanished, but the spring still gushes forth from a rock.

Nablus, the ancient Sichem, the chief town of Samaria, contains fourthousand inhabitants, and is reputed to be one of the most ancient townsin Palestine. It is surrounded by a strong wall, and consistsof a long and very dirty street. We rode through the town fromone end to the other, and past the poor-looking bazaar, where nothingstruck me but the sight of some fresh figs, which were at this earlyseason already exposed for sale. Of course we bought the fruitat once; but it had a very bad flavour.

A number of soldiers are seen in all the towns. They are Arnauts,a wild, savage race of men, who appear to be regarded with more dreadby the inhabitants than the wandering tribes whose incursions they areintended to repress.

We pitched our tents on a little hill immediately outside the town.Few things are more disagreeable to the traveller than being compelledto bivouac near a town or village in the East. All the inhabitants,both young and old, flock round in order to examine the European caravan,which is a most unusual sight for them, as closely as possible.They frequently even crowd into the tents, and it becomes necessaryto expel the intruders almost by main force. Not only are strangersexcessively annoyed at being thus made a gazing-stock, but they alsorun a risk of being plundered.

Our cook had the good fortune to obtain a kid only three or fourdays old, which was immediately killed and at once boiled with rice.We made a most sumptuous meal, for it was seldom we could get such goodfare.

June 13th.

The morning sun found us already on horseback; we rode through thewhole of the beautiful valley at the entrance of which Nablus lies.The situation of this town is very charming. The valley is notbroad, and does not exceed a mile and a half in length; it is completelysurrounded with low hills. The mountain on the right is calledEbal, and that on the left Grissim. The latter is celebrated asbeing the meeting-place of the twelve tribes of Israel under Joshua;they there consulted upon the means of conquering the land of Canaan.

The whole valley is sufficiently fertile; even the hills are in someinstances covered to their summits with olive, fig, lemon, and orangetrees. Some little brooks, clear as crystal, bubble through thebeautiful plain. We were frequently compelled to ride throughthe water; but all the streams are at this season of the year so shallow,that our horses’ hoofs were scarcely covered.

After gaining the summit of the neighbouring hill, we turned roundwith regret to look our last on this valley; seldom has it been my lotto behold a more charming picture of blooming vegetation.

Two hours more brought us to Sebasta, the ancient Samaria, whichalso lies on a lovely hill, though for beauty of situation it is notto be compared with Nablus. Sebasta is a wretched village.The ruins of the convent built on the place where St. John the Baptistwas beheaded were here pointed out to us; but even of the ruins thereare few traces left.

Two hours later we reached Djenin, and had now entered the confinesof Galilee. Though this province, perhaps, no longer smiles withthe rich produce it displayed in the days of old, it still affords astrong contrast to Judæa. Here we again find hedges of theIndian fig-tree, besides palms and large expanses of field; but forflowers and meadows we still search in vain.

The costume of the Samaritan and Galilean women appears as monotonousas it is poor and dirty. They wear only a long dark-blue gown,and the only difference to be observed in their dress is that some muffletheir faces and others do not. It would be no loss if all woreveils; for so few pretty women and girls are to be discovered, thatthey might be searched for, like the honest man of Diogenes, with alantern. The women have all an ugly brown complexion, their hairis matted, and their busts lack the rounded fullness of the Turkishwomen. They have a custom of ornamenting both sides of the head,from the crown to the chin, with a row of silver coins; and those womenwho do not muffle their faces usually wear as head-dress a handkerchiefof blue linen.

Djenin is a dirty little town, which we only entered in consequenceof having been told that we should behold the place where Queen Jezebelfell from the window and was devoured by dogs. Both window andpalace have almost vanished; but dogs, who look even now as though theycould relish such royal prey, are seen prowling about the streets.Not only in Constantinople, but in every city of Syria we found thesewild dogs; they were, however, nowhere so numerous as in the imperialcity.

We halted for an hour or two outside the town, beside a coffee-house,and threw ourselves on the ground beneath the open sky. A kindof hearth made of masonry, on which hot water was continually in readiness,stood close by, and near it some mounds of earth had been thrown upto serve as divans. A ragged boy was busy pounding coffee, whilehis father, the proprietor of the concern, concocted the cheering beverage,and handed it round to the guests. Straw-mats were spread forour accommodation on the earthen divans, and without being questionedwe were immediately served with coffee and argilé. In thebackground stood a large and lofty stable of brickwork, which mighthave belonged to a great European inn.

After recruiting ourselves here a little, we once more set forthto finish our day’s journey. Immediately after leaving thetown, a remarkably fine view opens before us over the great elevatedplain Esdralon, to the magnificent range of mountains enclosing thisimmense plateau. In the far distance they shewed us Mount Carmel,and, somewhat nearer, Mount Tabor. Here, too, the mountains aremostly barren, without, however, being entirely composed of naked massesof rock. Mount Tabor, standing entirely alone and richly clothedwith vegetation, has a very fine appearance.

For nearly two hours we rode across the plain of Esdralon, and hadthus ample leisure to meditate upon the great events that have occurredhere. It is difficult to imagine a grander battlefield, and wecan readily believe that in such a plain whole nations may have struggledfor victory. From the time of Nabucodonosor to the period of theCrusades, and from the days of the Crusades to those of Napoleon, armiesof men from all nations have assembled here to fight for their realor imaginary rights, or for the glory of conquest.

The great and continuous heat had cracked and burst the ground onthis plain to such a degree, that we were in continual apprehensionlest our horses should catch their feet in one or other of the fissures,and strain or even break them. The soil of the plain seems verygood, and is free from stones; it appears, however, generally to liefallow, being thickly covered with weeds and wild artichokes.The villages are seen in the far distance near the mountains.This plain forms part of Canaan.

We pitched our camp for the night beside a little cistern, near thewretched village of Lagun; and thus slept, for the third night consecutively,on the hard earth.

June 14th.

To-day we rode for an hour across the plain of Esdralon, and oncemore suffered dreadfully from the stings of the minute gnats which hadannoyed us so much on our journey from Joppa to Ramla. These plaguesdid not leave us until we had partly ascended the mountains skirtingthe plain, from the summit of which we could see Nazareth, prettilybuilt on a hill at the entrance of a fruitful valley. In the backgroundrises the beautiful Mount Tabor.

From the time we first see Nazareth until we reach the town is aride of an hour and a half; thus the journey from Lagun to Nazarethoccupies four hours and a half, and the entire distance from Jerusalemtwenty-six or twenty-seven hours.

CHAPTER X.

Arrival at Nazareth—Franciscan convent—Tabarith—MountTabor—Lake of Gennesareth—Baths—Mount Carmel—Grottoof the prophet Elijah—Acre—The pacha’s harem—Orientalwomen—Their listlessness and ignorance—Sur or Tyre.

It was only nine o’clock when we reached Nazareth, and repairedto the house for strangers in the Franciscan convent, where the priestswelcomed us very kindly. As soon as we had made a short surveyof our rooms (which resulted in our finding them very like those atJerusalem, both as regards appearance and arrangement), we set forthonce more to visit all the remarkable places, and above all the churchwhich contains the Grotto of Annunciation. This church, to whichwe were accompanied by a clergyman, was built by St. Helena, and isof no great size. In the background a staircase leads down intothe grotto, where it is asserted that the Virgin Mary received the Lord’smessage from the angel. Three little pillars of granite are stillto be seen in this grotto. The lower part of one of these pillarswas broken away by the Turks, so that it is only fastened from above.On the strength of this circ*mstance many have averred that the pillarhangs suspended in air! Had these men but looked beyond theirnoses, had they only cast their eyes upwards, they could not have hadthe face to preach a miracle where it is so palpable that none exists.A picture on the wall, not badly executed, represents the Annunciation.The house of the Virgin is not shewn here, because, according to thelegend, an angel carried it away to Loretto in Italy. A few stepslead to another grotto, affirmed to be the residence of a neighbourof the Virgin, during whose absence she presided over the house andattended to the duties of the absent Mary.

Another grotto in the town is shewn as “the workshop of Joseph;”it has been left in its primitive state, except that a plain woodenaltar has been added. Not far off we find the synagogue whereour Lord taught the people, thereby exasperating the Pharisees to sucha degree, that they wished to cast Him down from a rock outside thecity. In conclusion we were shewn an immense block of stone onwhich the Saviour is said to have eaten the Passover with His disciples(!).

In the afternoon we went to see “Mary’s Well,”on the road to Tabarith, at a short distance from Nazareth. Thiswell is fenced round with masonry, and affords pure clear water.Hither, it is said, the Virgin came every day to draw water, and herethe women and girls of Nazareth may still be daily seen walking to andfro with pitchers on their shoulders. Those whom we saw were allpoorly clad, and looked dirty. Many wore no covering on theirhead, and, what was far worse, their hair hung down in a most untidymanner. Their bright eyes were the only handsome feature thesepeople possessed. The custom of wearing silver coins round thehead also prevailed here.

To-day was a day of misfortunes for me; in the morning, when we departedfrom Lagun, I had already felt unwell. On the road I was seizedwith violent headache, nausea, and feverish shiverings, so that I hardlythought I should be able to reach Nazareth. The worst of all thiswas, that I felt obliged to hide my illness, as I had done on our journeyto Jerusalem, for fear I should be left behind. The wish to viewall the holy places in Nazareth was also so powerful within me, thatI made a great effort, and accompanied the rest of my party for thewhole day, though I was obliged every moment to retire into the backgroundthat my condition might not be observed. But when we went to table,the smell of the viands produced such an effect upon me, that I hastilyheld my handkerchief before my face as though my nose were bleeding,and hurried out. Thanks to my sunburnt skin, through which nopaleness could penetrate, no one noticed that I was ill. The wholeday long I could eat nothing; but towards evening I recovered a little.My appetite now also returned, but unfortunately nothing was to be hadbut some bad mutton-broth and an omelette made with rancid oil.It is bad enough to be obliged to subsist on such fare when we are inhealth, but the hardship increases tenfold when we are ill. However,I sent for some bread and wine, and strengthened myself therewith asbest I might.

June 15th.

Thanks be to Heaven, I was to-day once more pretty well. Inthe morning I could already mount my horse and take part in the excursionwe desired to make to

TABARITH.

Passing Mary’s Well and a mountain crowned by some ruins, theremains of ancient Canaan, we ride for about three miles towards thefoot of Mount Tabor, the highest summit of which we do not reach formore than an hour. There were no signs of a beaten road, and wewere obliged to ride over all obstacles; a course of proceeding whichso tired our horses, that in half an hour’s time they were quiteknocked up, so that we had to proceed on foot. After much toiland hardship, with a great deal of climbing and much suffering fromthe heat, we gained the summit, and were repaid for the toil of theascent, not only by the reflection that we stood on classic ground,but also by the beautiful view which lay spread before our eyes.This prospect is indeed magnificent. We overlook the entire plainof Saphed, as far as the shores of the Galilean Sea. Mount Taboris also known by the name of the “Mountain of Bliss”—hereit was that our Lord preached His exquisite “Sermon on the Mount.”Of all the hills I have seen in Syria, Mount Tabor is the only one coveredto the summit with oaks and carob-trees. The valleys too are filledwith the richest earth, instead of barren sand; but in spite of allthis the population is thin, and the few villages are wretched and puny.The poor inhabitants of Syria are woefully ground down; the taxes aretoo high in proportion to the productions of the soil, so that the peasantscannot possibly grow more produce than they require for their own consumption.Thus, for instance, orchards are not taxed in the aggregate, but accordingto each separate tree. For every olive-tree the owner must paya piastre, or a piastre and a half; and the same sum for an orange orlemon tree. And heavily taxed as he is, the poor peasant is neversafe in saying, “Such and such a thing belongs to me.”The pacha may shift him to another piece of land, or drive him awayaltogether, if he thinks it advisable to do so; for a pacha’spower in his province is as great as that of the Sultan himself in Constantinople.

Porcupines are to be met with on Mount Tabor; we found several oftheir fine horny quills.

From the farther side of the mountain we descended into the beautifuland spacious valley of Saphed, the scene of the miracle of the loavesand fishes, and rode on for some hours until we reached Tabarith.

A very striking scene opens before the eyes of the traveller on thelast mountain before Tabarith. A lovely landscape lies suddenlyunrolled before him. The valley sinks deeply down to the GalileanSea, round the shores of which a glorious chain of mountains rises invaried and picturesque terrace-like forms. More beautiful thanall the rest, towers in snowy grandeur the mighty chain of the Anti-Lebanon,its white surface glittering in the rays of the sun, and distinctlymirrored in the clear bosom of the lake. Deep down lies the littletown of Tabarith, shadowed by palm-trees, and guarded by a castle raiseda little above it. The unexpected beauty of this scene surprisedus so much that we alighted from our horses, and passed more than halfan hour on the summit of the mountain, to gaze at our leisure upon thewondrous picture. Count S. drew a hurried but very successfulsketch of the landscape which we all admired so much, though its mountainswere naked and bare. But such is the peculiar character of Easternscenery; in Europe, meadows, alps, and woods exhibit quite a distinctclass of natural beauty. In a mountain region of Europe, a sightlike the one we were now admiring would scarcely have charmed us somuch. But in these regions, poor alike in inhabitants and in scenery,the traveller is contented with little, and a little thing charms him.For instance, would not a plain piece of beef have been a greater luxuryto us on our journey than the most costly delicacies at home?Thus we felt also with regard to scenery.

On entering the town we experienced a feeling of painful emotion.Tabarith lay still half in ruins; for the dreadful earthquake of 1839had made this place one of the chief victims of its fury. Howmust the town have looked immediately after the calamity, when evennow, in spite of the extensive repairs, it appears almost like a heapof ruins! We saw some houses that had completely fallen in; otherswere very much damaged, with large cracks in the walls, and shatteredterraces and towers: every where, in short, we wandered among ruins.Above 4000 persons, more than half of the entire population, are saidto have perished by this earthquake.

We alighted at the house of a Jewish doctor, who entertains strangers,as there is no inn at Tabarith. I was quite surprised to findevery thing so clean and neat in this man’s house. The littlerooms were simply but comfortably furnished, the small courtyard wasflagged with large stones, and round the walls of the hall were rangednarrow benches with soft cushions. We were greatly astonishedat this appearance of neatness and order; but our wonder rose when wemade the discovery that the Jews, who are very numerous at Tabarith,are not clothed in the Turkish or Greek fashion, but quite like theirbrethren in Poland and Galicia. Most of them also spoke German.I immediately inquired the reason of this peculiarity, and was informedthat all the Jewish families resident in this town originally came fromPoland or Russia, with the intention of dying in the Promised Land.As a rule, all Jews seem to cherish a warm desire to pass their lastdays in the country of their forefathers, and to be buried there.

We requested our young hostess, whose husband was absent, to preparefor us without delay a good quantity of pilau and fowls; adding, thatwe would in the mean time look at the town and the neighbouring bathsat the Sea of Gennesareth, but that we should return in an hour anda half at the most.

We then proceeded to the Sea of Gennesareth, which is a fresh-waterlake. We entered a fisherman’s boat, in order that we mightsail on the waters where our Lord had once bid the winds “be still.”We were rowed to the warm springs, which rise near the shore, a fewhundred paces from the town. On the lake all was calm; but nosooner had we landed than a storm arose—between the fishermenand ourselves. In this country, if strangers neglect to bargainbeforehand for every stage with guides, porters, and people of thisdescription, they are nearly sure of being charged an exorbitant sumin the end. This happened to us on our present little trip, whichcertainly did not occupy more than half an hour. We took our seatsin the boat without arranging for the fares; and on disembarking offeredthe fishermen a very handsome reward. But these worthies threwdown the money, and demanded thirty piastres; whereas, if we had bargainedwith them at first, they would certainly not have asked ten. Wegave them fifteen piastres, to get rid of them; but this did not satisfytheir greediness; on the contrary, they yelled and shouted, until theCount’s servants threatened to restore peace and quietness withtheir sticks. At length the fishermen were so far brought to theirsenses that they walked away, scolding and muttering as they went.

Adjoining the warm springs we found a bathing-house, built in a roundform and covered with a cupola. Here we also met a considerablenumber of pilgrims, mostly Greeks and Armenians from the neighbourhood,who were journeying to Jerusalem. They had encamped beside thebathing-house. Half of these people were in the water, where amost animated conversation was going on. We also wished to enterthe building, not for the purpose of bathing, but to view the beautyand arrangements of the interior, which have been the subject of manylaudatory descriptions; but at the entrance such a cloud of vapour camerolling towards us that we were unable to penetrate far. I sawenough, however, to feel convinced, that in the description of thesebaths poetry or exaggeration had led many a pen far beyond the boundsof fact. Neither the exterior of this building, nor the cursoryglance I was enabled to throw into the interior, excited either my curiosityor my astonishment. Seen from without, these baths resemble asmall-sized house built in a very mediocre style, and with very slenderclaims to beauty. The interior displayed a large quantity of marble,—forinstance, in the floor, the sides of the bath, etc. But marbleis not such a rarity in this country that it can raise this bathing-kioskinto a wonder-building, or render it worthy of more than a passing glance.I endeavour to see every thing exactly as it stands before me, and todescribe it in my simple diary without addition or ornament.

At eight o’clock in the evening we returned tired and hungryto our comfortable quarters, flattering ourselves that we should findthe plain supper we had ordered a few hours before smoking on the coveredtable, ready for our arrival. But neither in the hall nor in thechamber could we find even a table, much less a covered one. Halfdead with exhaustion, we threw ourselves on chairs and benches, lookingforward with impatience to the supper and the welcome rest that wasto follow it. Messenger after messenger was despatched to theculinary regions, to inquire if the boiled fowls were not yet in aneatable condition. Each time we were promised that supper wouldbe ready “in a quarter of an hour,” and each time nothingcame of it. At length, at ten o’clock, a table was broughtinto the room; after some time a single chair, appeared, and then onemore; then came another interval of waiting, until at length a cleantable-cloth was laid. These arrivals occupied the time until eleveno’clock, when the master of the house, who had been absent onan excursion, made his appearance, and with him came a puny roast fowl.No miracle, alas, took place at our table like that of the plain ofSaphed; we were but seven persons, and so the fowl need only have beenincreased seven times to satisfy us all; but as it was, each personreceived one rib and no more. Our supper certainly consisted ofseveral courses brought in one after the other. Had we known this,we certainly should soon have arranged the matter, for then each personwould have appropriated the whole of a dish to himself. In thespace of an hour and a quarter nine or ten little dishes made theirappearance; but the portion of food contained in each was so small,that our supper may be said to have consisted of a variety of “tastes.”We would greatly have preferred two good-sized dishes to all these kickshaws.The dishes were, a roast, a boiled, and a baked chicken, a little plateof prepared cucumbers, an equally small portion of this vegetable ina raw state, a little pilau, and a few small pieces of mutton.

Our host kindly provided food for the mind during supper by describingto us a series of horrible scenes which had occurred at the time ofthe earthquake. He, too, had lost his wife and children by thiscalamity, and only owed his own life to the circ*mstance that he wasabsent at a sick-bed when the earthquake took place.

Half an hour after midnight we at length sought our resting-places.The doctor very kindly gave up his three little bedrooms to us, butthe heat was so oppressive that we preferred quartering ourselves onthe stones in the yard. They made a very hard bed, but we noneof us felt symptoms of indigestion after our sumptuous meal.

June 16th.

At five o’clock in the morning we took leave of our host, andreturned in six hours to Nazareth by the same road on which we had alreadytravelled. We did not, however, ascend Mount Tabor a second time,but rode along beside its base. To-day I once more visited allthe spots I had seen when I was so ill two days before; in this pursuitI passed some very agreeable hours.

June 17th.

In the morning, at half-past four, we once more bade farewell tothe worthy priests of Nazareth, and rode without stopping for nine hoursand a half, until at two o’clock we reached

MOUNT CARMEL.

It was long since we had travelled on such a good road as that onwhich we journeyed to-day. Now and then, however, a piece trulySyrian in character had to be encountered, probably lest we should losethe habit of facing hardship and danger. Another comfort was thatwe were not obliged to-day to endure thirst, as we frequently passedsprings of good clear water. At one time our way even led througha small oak-wood, a phenomenon almost unprecedented in Syria.There was certainly not a single tree in all the wood which a paintermight have chosen for a study, for they were all small and crippled.Large leafy trees, like those in my own land, are very seldom seen inthis country. The carob, which grows here in abundance, is almostthe only handsome tree; it has a beautiful leaf, scarcely larger thanthat of a rose-tree, of an oval form, as thick as the back of a knife,and of a beautiful bright green colour.

Mount Carmel lies on the sea-shore. It is not high, and halfan hour suffices the traveller to reach its summit, which is crownedby a spacious and beautiful convent, probably the handsomest in allPalestine, not even excepting the monasteries at Nazareth and Jerusalem.The main front of the building contains a suite of six or seven largerooms, with folding-doors and lofty regular windows. These rooms,together with several in the wings, are devoted to the reception ofstrangers. They are arranged in European style, with very substantialpieces of furniture, among which neither sofas nor useful chests ofdrawers are wanting.

About an hour after we arrived our reverend hosts regaled us witha more sumptuous meal than any of which I had partaken since my departurefrom Constantinople.

In proportion as our fare had been meagre and our accommodation indifferentat Nazareth and Jerusalem, did we find every thing here excellent.In an elegant dining-room stood a large table covered with a fine whitecloth, on which cut glass and clean knives, forks, and china platesgleamed invitingly. A servant in European garb placed some capitalfast-day fare on the table (it was Friday), and a polite priest keptus company; but not in eating, for he rightly considered that such ahungry company would not require any example to fall to.

During the whole remainder of our journey through Syria this conventoccupied a green spot in our memory. How capitally would a fewdays’ rest here have recruited our strength! But the gentlemenhad a distant goal before their eyes, and “Forward!” wasstill the cry.

After dinner we went down to the sea-shore, to visit the large grottocalled the “Prophets’ school.” This grotto hasreally the appearance of a lofty and spacious hall, where a number ofdisciples could have sat and listened to the words of the prophet.

The grotto in which Elijah is said to have lived is situated in achurch at the top of the mountain. Mount Carmel is quite barren,being only covered here and there with brambles; but the view is magnificent.In the foreground the eye can roam over the boundless expanse of ocean,while at the foot of the mountain it fords a resting-place in the considerabletown of Haifa, lying in a fertile plain, which extends to the base ofthe high mountains, bounded in the distance by the Anti-Libanus, andfarther still by the Lebanon itself. Along the line of coast wecan distinguish Acre (or Ptolemais), Sur (Tyre), and Soida (Sidon).

June 18th.

This morning we sent our poor over-tired horses on before us to Hese,and walked on foot at midday under a temperature of 33° to Haifas,a distance of more than two miles. Heated and exhausted to thelast degree we reached the house of the Consul, who is a Catholic, butseems nevertheless to live quite in Oriental fashion. This gentlemanis consul both for France and Austria. Although he was not athome when we arrived, we were immediately shewn into the room of state,where we reclined on soft divans, and were regaled with sherbet of allcolours, green, yellow, red, etc., and with coffee flavoured with roses,which we did not like. Hookahs (or tchibuks) were also handedround. At length the Consul’s wife appeared, a young andbeautiful lady of an imposing figure, dressed in the Oriental garb.She smoked her tchibuk with as much ease as the gentlemen. Luckilya brother of this lady who understood something of Italian was present,and kindly acted as interpreter. I have never found an Orientalwoman who knew any language but that of her own country.

After we had rested ourselves, we pursued our journey in a boat toAcre. On my road to Jerusalem I had only seen the outside of thismonument of the last war, now I could view its interior; but saw nothingto repay me for my trouble. Considering how ugly the Turkish townsare even when they are in good preservation, it may easily be imaginedthat the appearance of one of these cities is not improved when it isfull of shot-holes, and the streets and interiors of the houses arechoked up with rubbish. The entrance to the convent lies throughthe courtyard of the Turkish barracks, where there seemed to be a greatdeal of bustle, and where we had an opportunity of noticing how wretchedlyclad, and still more miserably shod, the Turkish soldiers are.These blemishes are not so much observed when the men are seen singlyat their posts.

The convent here is very small, being in fact only a dwelling-houseto which a chapel is attached. Two monks and a lay brother formthe whole household.

Scarcely had I established myself in my room, before a very politelady entered, who introduced herself to me as the wife of a surgeonin the service of the pacha here. She stated that her husbandwas at present absent at Constantinople, and added that she was in thehabit of spending several hours in the convent every evening to do thehonours of the house! This assertion struck me as so strange,that I should certainly have remained dumb had not my visitor been avery agreeable, polite French lady. As it was, however, we chattedaway the evening pleasantly together, until the supper-bell summonedus to the refectory. All that I saw in this convent was in directcontrast to the arrangement of the comfortable establishment of theCarmelites. The refectory here is astonishingly dirty; the wholefurniture consists of two dingy tables and some benches; the table-cloth,plates, etc. wore the prevailing livery; and the fare was quite in keepingwith every thing else. We supped at two tables; the gentlemenand the reverend fathers sitting at one, while the French lady and myselfoccupied the other.

June 19th.

As we were not to travel far to-day, we did not set out until teno’clock, when we started in company of several Franks who werein the pacha’s service. They led us into a park by the roadsidebelonging to the mother of the Sultan. Here the pacha usuallyresides during the summer. In half an hour’s time we reachedthis park. The garden is rather handsome, but does not displaymany plants except lemon, orange, pomegranate, and cypress trees.The display of flowers was not very remarkable; for not only could wediscover no rare or foreign plants, but we also missed many flowerswhich grow plentifully in our gardens at home. A few kiosks arehere to be seen, but every thing seemed miserably out of repair.

The residence of the pacha, situated outside the gardens, has a moreinviting appearance. We paid our respects to his highness, whor*ceived us very graciously, and caused us to be regaled with the usualbeverages. No sooner had the high ladies in the harem learnt thata Frankish woman was in their territory, than they sent to invite meto visit them. I gladly accepted this invitation, the more soas it offered an opportunity of gratifying my curiosity. I wasconducted to another part of the house, where I stepped into a chamberof middle size, the floor of which was covered with mats and carpets,while on cushions ranged round the walls reclined beauties of variouscomplexions, who seemed to have been collected from every quarter ofthe globe. One of these women, who was rather elderly, appearedto be the pacha’s chief wife, for all the rest pointed to her.The youngest lady seemed about eighteen or nineteen years of age, andwas the mother of a child eight months old, with which they were allplaying as with a doll; the poor little thing was handed about fromhand to hand. These ladies were dressed exactly like the daughtersof the consul at Joppa, whose costume I have described. I didnot see any signs of particular beauty, unless the stoutness of figureso prevalent here is considered in that light. I saw, however,a woman with one eye, a defect frequently observed in the East.Female slaves were there of all shades of colour. One wore a ringthrough her nose, and another had tastefully painted her lips blue.Both mistresses and slaves had their eyebrows and eyelashes paintedblack, and their nails and the palm of the hand stained a light-brownwith the juice of the henna.

The Oriental women are ignorant and inquisitive in the highest degree;they can neither read nor write, and the knowledge of a foreign languageis quite out of the question. It is very rarely that one of themunderstands embroidering in gold. Whenever I happened to be writingin my journal, men, women, and children would gather round me, and gazeupon me and my book with many signs and gestures expressive of astonishment.

The ladies of the harem seemed to look with contempt upon employmentand work of every kind; for neither here nor elsewhere did I see themdo any thing but sit cross-legged on carpets and cushions, drinkingcoffee, smoking nargilé, and gossiping with one another.They pressed me to sit down on a cushion, and then immediately surroundedme, endeavouring, by signs, to ask many questions. First theytook my straw hat and put it upon their heads; then they felt the stuffof my travelling robe; but they seemed most of all astonished at myshort hair, {165}the sight of which seemed to impress these poor ignorant women withthe idea that nature had denied long hair to the Europeans. Theyasked me by signs how this came to pass, and every lady came up andfelt my hair. They seemed also very much surprised that I wasso thin, and offered me their nargilé, besides sherbet and cakes.On the whole, our conversation was not very animated, for we had nodragoman to act as interpreter, so that we were obliged to guess atwhat was meant, and at length I sat silently among these Orientals,and was heartily glad when, at the expiration of an hour, my friendssent to fetch me away. At a later period of my journey I frequentlyvisited harems, and sometimes considerable ones; but I found them allalike. The only difference lay in the fact that some harems containedmore beautiful women and slaves, and that in others the inmates weremore richly clad; but every where I found the same idle curiosity, ignorance,and apathy. Perhaps they may be more happy than European women;I should suppose they were, to judge from their comfortable figuresand their contented features. Corpulence is said frequently toproceed from a good-natured and quiet disposition; and their featuresare so entirely without any fixed character and expression, that I donot think these women capable of deep passions or feeling either forgood or evil. Exceptions are of course to be found even amongthe Turkish women; I only report what I observed on the average.

This day we rode altogether for seven hours. We passed a beautifulorange-grove; for the greater part of the way our road led through deepsand, close by the sea-shore; but once we had to pass a dreadfully dangerousplace called the “White Mount,” one extremity of which risesout of the sea. This once passed, we soon come upon the beautifulfar-stretching aqueduct which I noticed on my journey from Joppa toJerusalem. It traverses a portion of this fruitful plain.

We could not enter the little town of Sur, the goal of this day’sjourney, as it was closed on account of the plague. We thereforepassed by, and pitched our tents beside a village, in the neighbourhoodof which large and splendid cisterns of water, hewn in the rock, areto be seen. The superfluous water from these cisterns falls froma height of twenty or thirty feet, and after turning a mill-wheel, flowsthrough the vale in the form of a brook.

CHAPTER XI.

River Mishmir—Saida—Arnauts—Desert-path—Residenceof Lady Hester Stanhope—Beyrout—The consul’s—Uncomfortablequarters—Sickness—The Bazaar—Vexatious delays—Departurefrom Beyrout—Beautiful views—Syrian costumes—Damascus—Aspectof the city—House of the consul.

June 20th.

Shortly after five this morning we were in our saddles, and a fewhours afterwards arrived at the beautiful river Mishmir, which is asbroad as the Jordan, though it does not contain nearly so much water.Next to the Jordan, however, this river is the largest we find on ourjourney, besides being a most agreeable object in a region so destituteof streams. Its water is pure as crystal.

In ten hours we reached the town, and at once repaired to the convent,as not one of these cities contains an inn. The little convent,with its tiny church, is situate at the end of a large courtyard, whichis so thronged with horses and men, particularly with soldiers, thatwe had great difficulty in forcing our way through. When we hadat length cleared a passage for ourselves to the entrance, we were receivedwith the agreeable intelligence that there was no room for us.What was to be done? We thought ourselves lucky in obtaining alittle room where we could pass the night in a house belonging to aGreek family; beds were, however, out of the question; we had to lieon the hard stones. In the courtyard a kind of camp had been pitched,in which twelve state-horses of the Emir {167}of Lebanon (creatures of the true Arab breed) were bivouacking amonga quantity of Arnauts.

The Arnaut soldiers are universally feared, but more by friend thanfoe. They are very turbulent, and behave in an overbearing mannertowards the people. The Count, my fellow-traveller, was even insultedin the street, not by a peasant, but by one of these military fellows.These ill-disciplined troops are assembled every where, in order thatthey may be ready to attack whenever a disturbance occurs between theDruses and Maronites. I consider, however, that the Arnauts aremuch more to be feared than either the Druses or the Maronites, throughwhose territories we afterwards journeyed without experiencing, in asingle instance, either insult or injury. I hardly think we shouldhave escaped so well had we encountered a troop of these wild horsem*n.

Among all the Turkish soldiers the Arnauts are the best dressed;with their short and full white skirts of linen or lawn, and tight trousersof white linen, a scarf round the middle, and a white or a red spencer,they closely resemble the Albanians.

June 21st.

This was a most fatiguing day, although we did not ride for morethan ten hours; but this ten hours’ journey was performed withouteven a quarter of an hour’s rest, though the thermometer stoodat 33° Reaumur. Our path lay through a sandy desert, abouttwo miles in breadth, running parallel with the mountain-range fromSaida to Beyrout. The monotony of the steppe is only broken atintervals by heaps of sand. The surface of the sand presents theappearance of a series of waves; the particles of which it is composedare very minute, and of a fine yellowish-brown colour. A beautifulfertile valley adjoins this desert, and stretches towards Mount Lebanon,on whose brown rocky surface several villages can be descried.

This mountain-range has a most imposing appearance. White rocksand strata of white sand shine forth from its broad and generally barrenexpanse like fields of snow.

The residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope can be seen in thedistance on the declivity of the mountain.

During our long ride of ten hours we did not pass a single tank,spring, or even pool, and all the river-beds on our way were completelydried up by the heat. Not a tree could we see that could shelterus for a moment from the glaring heat of the sun. It was a dayof torment for us and for our poor beasts. Two of our brave horsessank from exhaustion, and could go no farther, though relieved of theirburdens; we were obliged to leave the poor creatures to perish by thewayside.

At three in the afternoon we at length arrived at Beyrout, afterhaving bravely encountered, during ten consecutive days, the toil andhardship inseparable from a journey through Syria.

The distance from Jerusalem to Beyrout is about 200 miles, allowingfor the circuitous route by way of Tabarith, which travellers are not,however, compelled to take. From Jerusalem to Nazareth is 54 miles;from Nazareth across Mount Tabor to Tabarith and back again 31 miles;from Nazareth to Mount Carmel, Haifas, and Acre, 46 miles; and fromAcre to Beyrout 69 miles; making the total 200 miles.

Our poor horses suffered dreadfully during this journey; for theywere continually obliged either to climb over rocks, stones, and mountains,or to wade through hot sand, in which they sank above the fetlocks atevery step. It would have been a better plan had we only engagedour horses from Jerusalem to Nazareth, where we could have procuredfresh ones to carry us on to Beyrout. We had been told at Jerusalemthat it was sometimes impossible to obtain horses at Nazareth, and sopreferred engaging our beasts at once for the whole journey. Onarriving at Nazareth we certainly discovered that we had been deceived,for horses are always to be had there in plenty; but as the contractwas once made, we were obliged to abide by it.

During the ten days of our journey the temperature varied exceedingly.By day the heat fluctuated between 18° and 39° Reaumur; thenights too were very changeable, being sometimes sultry, and sometimesbitterly cold.

BEYROUT

lies in a sandy plain; but the mulberry-trees by which it is surroundedimpart to this city an air of picturesque beauty. Still we wadeevery where, in the streets, gardens, and alleys, through deep sand.Viewed from a distance, Beyrout has a striking effect, a circ*mstanceI had remarked on my first arrival there from Constantinople; but itloses considerably on a nearer approach. I did not enjoy walkingthrough the town and its environs; but it was a great pleasure to meto sit on a high terrace in the evening, and look down upon the landscape.The dark-blue sky rose above the distant mountains, the fruitful valley,and the glittering expanse of ocean. The golden sun was stillillumining the peaks of the mountains with its farewell rays, untilat length it sunk from view, shrouding every thing in a soft twilight.Then I saw the innumerable stars shine forth, and the moon shed itsmagic light over the nocturnal landscape; and that mind can scarcelybe called human which does not feel the stirring of better feelingswithin it at such a spectacle. Truly the temple of the Lord isevery where; and throughout all nature there is a mysterious somethingthat tells even the infidel of the omnipresence of the Great Spirit.How many beautiful evenings did I not enjoy at Beyrout! they were, infact, the only compensation for the grievous hardships I was obligedto endure during my stay in this town.

In the inn I could again not find a single room, and was this timemuch more at a loss to find a place of shelter than I had been before;for our host’s wife had gone out of town with her children, andhad let her private house; so I sat, in the fullest sense of the word,“in the street.” A clergyman, whose acquaintance Ihad made in Constantinople, and who happened just then to be at Beyrout,took compassion upon me, and procured me a lodging in the house of aworthy Arab family just outside the town. Now I certainly hada roof above my head, but I could not make myself understood; for nota soul spoke Italian, and my whole knowledge of Arabic was comprisedin the four words: taib, moi, sut, mafish—beautiful, water,milk, and nothing.

With so limited a stock of expressions at my command, I naturallycould not make much way, and the next day I was placed in a very disagreeabledilemma. I had hired a boy to show me the way to a church, andexplained to him by signs that he was to wait to conduct me home again.On emerging from the church I could see nothing of my guide. Afterwaiting for some time in vain, I was at length compelled to try andfind my way alone.

The house in which I lived stood in a garden of mulberry-trees, butall the houses in the neighbourhood were built in the same style, eachhaving a tower attached, in which there is a habitable room; all thesedwellings stand in gardens planted with mulberry-trees, some of themnot separated from each other at all, and the rest merely by littlesand-hills. Flowers and vegetables are nowhere to be seen, noris the suburb divided into regular streets; so that I wandered in anendless labyrinth of trees and houses. I met none but Arabs, whoselanguage I did not understand, and who could, therefore, give me noinformation. So I rushed to and fro, until at length, after along and fatiguing pilgrimage, I was lucky enough to stumble on thehouse I wanted. Unwilling to expose myself to such a disagreeableadventure a second time, I thought it would be preferable to dwell withinthe town; and therefore hired the young guide before mentioned to conductme to the house of the Austrian Consul-General Herr von A. Unfortunatelythis gentleman was not visible to such an insignificant personage asmyself, and sent me word that I might come again in a few hours.This was a true “Job’s message” for me, as far asconsolation went. The heat was most oppressive; I had now enteredthe town for the second time, to be sent once more back to the glowingsands, with permission to “come again in a few hours.”Had I not been uncommonly hardy, I should have succumbed. Butluckily I knew a method to help myself. I ordered my little guideto lead me to the house in which the wife of Battista the innkeeperhad lived.

During my previous residence at Beyrout I had accidentally heardthat a French lady lodged in the same house, and occupied herself withthe education of the children. I went to call on this French lady,and was lucky enough to find her; so I had, at any rate, so far succeededthat I had found a being with whom I could converse, and of whom I mightrequest advice and assistance. My new acquaintance was an extremelycordial maiden lady about forty years of age. Her name was PaulineKandis. My unfortunate position awakened her compassion so much,that she placed her own room at my disposal for the time being.I certainly saw that my present quarters left much to be desired, formy kind entertainer’s lodging consisted of a single room, dividedinto two parts by several tall chests; the foremost division containeda large table, at which four girls sat and stood at their lessons.The second division formed a kind of lumber-room, redolent of boxes,baskets, and pots, and furnished with a board, laid on an old tub, toanswer the purposes of a table. My condition was, however, soforlorn, that I took joyful possession of the lumber-room assigned tome. I immediately departed with my boy-guide, and by noon I wasalready installed, with bag and baggage, in the dwelling of my kindhostess. But there was no more walking for me that day.What with the journey and my morning’s peregrinations I was soexhausted that I requested nothing but a resting-place, which I foundamong the old chests and baskets on the floor. I was right gladto lie down, and court the rest that I needed so much.

At seven o’clock in the evening the school closed. MissK. then took her leave, and I remained sole occupant of her two rooms,which she only uses as school-rooms, for she sleeps at her brother’shouse.

My lodging at Miss K.’s was, however, the most uncomfortableof any I had yet occupied during my entire journey.

From eight o’clock in the morning until seven at night fouror five girls, who did any thing rather than study, were continuallyin the room. The whole day long there was such a noise of shouting,screaming, and jumping about, that I could not hear the sound of myown voice. Moreover, the higher regions of this hall of audiencecontained eight pigeons’ nests; and the old birds, which wereso tame that they not only took the food from our plates, but stoleit out of our very mouths, fluttered continually about the room, sothat we were obliged to look very attentively at every chair on whichwe intended to sit down. On the floor a co*ck was continually fightingwith his three wives; and a motherly hen, with a brood of eleven hopefulducks, cackled merrily between. I wonder that I did not contracta squint, for I was obliged continually to look upwards and downwardslest I should cause mischief, and lest mischief should befall me.During the night the heat and the stench were almost insupportable;and immediately after midnight the co*ck always began to crow, as ifhe earned his living by the noise he made. I used to open thewindow every night to make a passage of escape for the heat and thefoul air, while I lay down before the door, like Napoleon’s Mameluke,to guard the treasures entrusted to my care. But on the secondnight two wandering cats had already discovered my whereabouts—withoutthe least compunction they stepped quietly over me into the chamber,and began to raise a murderous chase. I instantly jumped up anddrove away the robbers; and from that time forward I was obliged toremain in the interior of my fortress, carefully to barricade all thewindows, and bear my torments with what fortitude I might.

Our diet was also of a very light description. A sister-in-lawof the good Pauline was accustomed to send in our dinner, which consistedone day of a thimbleful of saffron-coloured pilau, while the next wouldperhaps bring half the shoulder of a small fish. Had I boardedwith my hostess, I should have kept fast-day five days in the week,and have had nothing to eat on the remaining two. I thereforeat once left off dining with them, and used to cook a good German dishfor myself every day. In the morning I asked for some milk, inorder to make my coffee after the German fashion. Yet I thinkthat some of our adulterators of milk must have penetrated even to Syria,for I found it as difficult to obtain pure goats’ milk here asto get good milk from the cow in my own country.

My bedstead was formed out of an old chest, and my sole employmentand amusem*nt was idling. I had not a book to read, no table towrite on; and if I once really succeeded in getting something to reador made an attempt at writing, the whole tribe of youngsters would comeclustering round, staring at my book or at my paper. It wouldcertainly have been useless to complain, but yet I could not alwaysentirely conceal the annoyance I felt.

My friends must pardon me for describing my cares so minutely, butI only do so to warn all those who would wish to undertake a journeylike mine, without being either very rich, very high-born, or very hardy,that they had much better remain at home.

As I happened to be neither rich nor high-born, the Consul wouldnot receive me at all the first time I called upon him, although thecaptain of a steamer had been admitted to an audience just before Iapplied. A few days afterwards I once more waited upon the Consul,told him of my troubles, and stated plainly how thankful I should feelif any one would assist me so far as to procure me a respectable lodging,for which I would gladly pay, and where I could remain until an opportunityoffered to go to Alexandria; the worthy Consul was kind enough to replyto my request with a shake of the head, and with the comforting admissionthat “he was very sorry for me—it was really extremely unfortunate.”I think the good gentleman must have left all his feeling at home beforesettling in Syria, otherwise he would never have dismissed me with afew frivolous speeches, particularly as I assured him that I was perfectlywell provided with money, and would bear any expense, but added thatit was possible to be placed in positions where want of advice was morekeenly felt than want of means. During the whole of my residenceat Beyrout, my countryman never troubled himself any more about me.

During my stay here I made an excursion to the grotto, said to bethe scene of St. George’s combat with the dragon; this grottois situate to the right of the road, near the quarantine-house.The ride thither offers many fine views, but the grotto itself is notworth seeing.

Frequently in the evening I went to visit an Arab family, when Iwould sit upon the top of the tower and enjoy the sight of the beautifulsunset.

A very strong military force was posted at Beyrout, consisting entirelyof Arnauts. They had pitched their tents outside the town, whichthus wore the appearance of a camp. Many of these towns do notcontain barracks; and as the soldiers are not here quartered in privatehouses, they are compelled to bivouack in the open field.

The bazaar is very large and straggling. On one occasion Ihad the misfortune to lose myself among its numerous lanes, from whichit took me some time to extricate myself; I had an opportunity of seeingmany of the articles of merchandise, and an immense number of shops,but none which contained any thing very remarkable. Once moreI found how prone people are to exaggerate. I had been warnedto abstain from walking in the streets, and, above all, to avoid venturinginto the bazaar. I neglected both pieces of advice, and walkedout once or twice every day during my stay, without once meeting withan adventure of any kind.

I had already been at Beyrout ten long, long days, and still no opportunityoffered of getting to Alexandria. But at the end of June the worthyartist Sattler, whose acquaintance I had made at Constantinople, arrivedhere. He found me out, and proposed that I should travel to Damascuswith Count Berchtold, a French gentleman of the name of De Rousseau,and himself, instead of wasting my time here. This propositionwas a welcome one to me, for I ardently desired to be released frommy fowls’ nest. My arrangements were soon completed, forI took nothing with me except some linen and a mattress, which werepacked on my horse’s back.

JOURNEY FROM BEYROUT TO DAMASCUS, BALBECK, AND MOUNT LEBANON.July1st.

At one o’clock in the afternoon we were all assembled beforethe door of M. Battista’s inn, and an hour later we were in oursaddles hastening towards the town-gate. At first we rode througha deep sea of sand surrounding the town; but soon we reached the beautifulvalley which lies stretched at the foot of the Anti-Libanus, and afterwardsproceeded towards the range by pleasant paths, shaded by pine-woodsand mulberry-plantations.

But now the ascent of the magnificent Anti-Libanus became steeperand more dangerous, as we advanced on rocky paths, often scarcely afoot in breadth, and frequently crossed by fissures and brooklets.Some time elapsed before I could quite subdue my fear, and could delivermyself wholly up to the delight of contemplating these grand scenes,so completely new to us Europeans, leaving my horse, which planted itsfeet firmly and without once stumbling among the blocks of stone lyingloosely on each other, to carry me as its instinct directed; for thesehorses are exceedingly careful, being well used to these dangerous roads.We could not help laughing heartily at our French companion, who couldnot screw up his courage sufficiently to remain on his horse at thevery dangerous points. At first he always dismounted when we cameto such a spot; but at length he grew weary of eternally mounting anddismounting, and conquered his fear, particularly when he observed thatwe depended so entirely on the sagacity of our steeds, and gave ourselvescompletely up to the contemplation of the mountains around us.It is impossible adequately to describe the incomparable forms of thismountain-range. The giant rocks, piled one above the other, glowwith the richest colours; lovely green valleys lie scattered between;while numerous villages are seen, sometimes standing isolated on therocks, and at others peering forth from among the deep shade of theolive and mulberry trees.

The sun sinking into the sea shot its last rays through the clearpure air towards the highest peaks of the mighty rocks. Everything united to form a picture which when once seen can never be forgotten.

The tints of the rocky masses are peculiarly remarkable; exhibitingnot only the primary colours, but many gradations, such as bluish-green,violet, etc. Many rocks were covered with a red coating resemblingcinnabar, in several places we found small veins of pure sulphur, andeach moment something new and wonderful met our gaze. The fivehours which we occupied in riding from Beyrout to the village of Elhemsinpassed like five minutes. The khan of Elhemsin was already occupiedby a caravan bringing wares and fruit from Damascus, so that we hadnothing for it but to raise our tent and encamp beneath it.

July 2d.

The rising sun found us prepared for departure, and soon we had reachedan acclivity from whence we enjoyed a magnificent view. Beforeus rose the lofty peaks of Lebanon and Anti-Libanus, partly coveredwith snow; while behind us the mountains, rich in vineyards, olive-plantations,and pine-woods, stretched downward to the sea-shore. We had mountedto such a height, that the clouds soaring above the sea and the townof Beyrout lay far beneath us, shrouding the city from our gaze.

Vineyards are very common on these mountains. The vines donot, however, cling round trees for support, nor are they trained uppoles as in Austria; they grow almost wild, the stem shooting upwardsto a short distance from the ground, towards which the vine then bends.The wine made on these mountains is of excellent quality, rather sweetin flavour, of a golden-yellow colour, and exceedingly fiery.

We still continued to climb, without experiencing much inconveniencefrom the heat, up a fearful dizzy path, over rocks and stones, and pastfrightful chasms. Our leathern bottles were here useless to us,for we had no lack of water; from every crevice in the rocks a clearcrystal flood gushed forth, in which the gorgeously-coloured massesof stone were beautifully mirrored.

After a very fatiguing ride of five hours we at length reached theridge of the Anti-Libanus, where we found a khan, and allowed ourselvesan hour’s rest. The view from this point is very splendid.The two loftiest mountain-ridges of Lebanon and Anti-Libanus enclosebetween them a valley which may be about six miles long, and ten ortwelve broad. Our way led across the mountain’s brow anddown into this picturesque valley, through which we journeyed for somemiles to the village of Maschdalanscher, in the neighbourhood of whichplace we pitched our tents.

It is, of course, seldom that a European woman is seen in these regions,and thus I seemed to be quite a spectacle to the inhabitants; at everyplace where we halted many women and children would gather round me,busily feeling my dress, putting on my straw hat, and looking at mefrom all sides, while they endeavoured to converse with me by signs.If they happened to have any thing eatable at hand, such as cucumbers,fruits, or articles of that description, they never failed to offerthem with the greatest good-nature, and seemed highly rejoiced whenI accepted some. On the present evening several of these peoplewere assembled round me, and I had an opportunity of noticing the costumeof this mountain tribe. Excepting the head-dress, it is the sameas that worn throughout all Palestine, and indeed in the whole of Syria;the women have blue gowns, and the men, white blouses, wide trousers,and a sash: sometimes the women wear spencers, and the more wealthyamong them even display caftans and turbans. The head-dress ofthe women is very original, but does not look remarkably becoming.They wear on their foreheads a tin horn more than a foot in length,and over this a white handkerchief, fastened at the back and hangingdown in folds. This rule, however, only applies to the wealthierportion of the community, which is here limited enough. The poorerwomen wear a much smaller horn, over which they display an exceedinglydingy handkerchief. During working hours they ordinarily divestthemselves of these ornaments, as they would render it impossible tocarry loads on the head. The rich inhabitants of the mountains,both male and female, dress in the Oriental fashion; but the women stillretain the horn, which is then made of silver.

The village of Maschdalanscher is built of clay huts thatched withstraw. I saw many goats and horned cattle, and a good store ofcorn lay piled up before the doors.

We were assured that the roads through the mountains inhabited bythe Druses and Maronites were very unsafe, and we were strongly urgedto take an escort with us; but as we met caravans almost every hour,we considered this an unnecessary precaution, and arrived safely withoutadventure of any kind at Damascus.

July 3d.

This morning we rode at first over a very good road, till at lengthwe came upon a ravine, which seemed hardly to afford us room to pass.Closer and more closely yet did the rocky masses approach each other,as we passed amongst the loose shingle over the dry bed of a river.Frequently the space hardly admitted of our stepping aside to allowthe caravans we met to pass us. Sometimes we thought, after havingpainfully laboured through a ravine of this kind, that we should emergeinto the open field; but each time it was only to enter a wilder andmore desert pass. So we proceeded for some hours, till the rockymasses changed to heaps of sand, and every trace of vegetation disappeared.At length we had climbed the last hill, and Damascus, “the vauntedcity of the East,” lay before us.

It is certainly a striking sight when, escaping from the inhospitabledomains of the mountain and the sandhill, we see stretched at our feeta great and luxuriant valley, forming in the freshness of its vegetationa singular contrast to the desert region around. In this valley,amid gardens and trees innumerable, extends the town, with its prettymosques and slender lofty minarets; but I was far from finding the sceneso charming that I could have exclaimed with other travellers, “Thisis the most beauteous spot on earth!”

The plain in which Damascus lies runs on at the foot of the Anti-Libanusas far as the mountain of Scheik, and is shut in on three sides by sandhillsof an incomparably dreary appearance. On the fourth side the plainloses itself in the sandy desert. This valley is exceedingly wellwatered by springs descending from all the mountains, which we couldnot, however, see on our approach; but no river exists here. Thewater rushes forth but to disappear beneath the sand, and displays itsrichness only in the town and its immediate neighbourhood.

From the hill whence we had obtained the first view of Damascus,we have still a good two miles to ride before we reach the plantations.These are large gardens of mish-mish, walnut, pomegranate, orange, andlemon trees, fenced in with clay walls, traversed by long broad streets,and watered by bubbling brooks. For a long time we journeyed onin the shade of these fruitful woods, till at length we entered thetown through a large gate. Our enthusiastic conceptions of thisrenowned city were more and more toned down as we continued to advance.

The houses in Damascus are almost all built of clay and earth, andmany ugly wooden gables and heavy window-frames give a disagreeableponderous air to the whole. Damascus is divided into several partsby gates, which are closed soon after sunset. We passed througha number of these gates, and also through the greater portion of thebazaar, on our road to the Franciscan convent.

We had this day accomplished a journey of more than twenty-four miles,in a temperature of 35° to 36° Reaum., and had suffered muchfrom the scorching wind, which came laden with particles of dust.Our faces were so browned, that we might easily have been taken fordescendants of the Bedouins. This was the only day that I feltmy eyes affected by the glare.

Although we were much fatigued on arriving at the convent, the firstthing we did, after cleansing ourselves from dust and washing our burningeyes, was to hasten to the French and English consuls, so eager werewe to see the interior of some of these clay huts.

A low door brought us into a passage leading to a large yard.We could have fancied ourselves transported by magic to the scene ofone of the fantastic “Arabian Nights,” for all the gloryof the East seemed spread before our delighted gaze. In the midstof the courtyard, which was paved with large stones, a large reservoir,with a sparkling fountain, spread a delightful coolness around.Orange and lemon trees dipped their golden fruit into the crystal flood;while at the sides flower-beds, filled with fragrant roses, balsams,oleanders, etc., extended to the stairs leading to the reception-room.Every thing seemed to have been done that could contribute to ornamentthis large and lofty apartment, which opened into the courtyard.Swelling divans, covered with the richest stuffs, lined the walls, which,tastefully ornamented with mirrors and painted and sculptured arabesques,and further decked with mosaic and gilding, displayed a magnificenceof which I could not have formed a conception. In the foregroundof this fairy apartment a jet of water shot upwards from a marble basin.The floor was also of marble, forming beautiful pictures in the mostvaried colours; and over the whole scene was spread that charm so peculiarto the Orientals, a charm combining the tasteful with the rich and gorgeous.The apartment in which the women dwell, and where they receive theirmore confidential visitors, are similar to the one I have just described,except that they are smaller, less richly furnished, and completelyopen in front. The remaining apartments also look into the courtyard;they are simply, but comfortably and prettily arranged.

All the houses of the Orientals are similar to this one, except thatthe apartments of the women open into another courtyard than those ofthe men.

After examining and admiring every thing to our heart’s content,we returned to our hospitable convent. This evening the clericalgentlemen entertained us. A tolerably nice meal, with wine andgood bread, restored our exhausted energies to a certain extent.

At Beyrout we were quite alarmed at the warnings we received concerningthe numbers of certain creeping things we should find here in the bedsteads.I therefore betook myself to bed with many qualms and misgivings; butI slept undisturbed, both on this night and on the following one.

CHAPTER XII.

The bazaar at Damascus—The khan—Grotto of St. Paul—Fanaticismof the inhabitants—Departure from Damascus—The desert—Militaryescort—Heliopolis or Balbeck—Stupendous ruins—Continuationof our voyage through the desert—The plague—The Lebanonrange—Cedar-trees—Druses and Maronites—Importunatebeggars—Thievish propensities of the Arabs.

July 4th.

Damascus is one of the most ancient cities of the East, but yet wesee no ruins; a proof that no grand buildings ever existed here, andthat therefore the houses, as they became old and useless, were replacedby new ones.

To-day we visited the seat of all the riches—the great bazaar.It is mostly covered in, but only with beams and straw mats. Onboth sides are rows of wooden booths, containing all kinds of articles,but a great preponderance of eatables, which are sold at an extraordinarilycheap rate. We found the “mish-mish” particularlygood.

As in Constantinople, the rarest and most costly of the wares arenot exposed for sale, but must be sought for in closed store-houses.The booths look like inferior hucksters’ shops, and each merchantis seen sitting in the midst of his goods. We passed hastily throughthe bazaar, in order soon to reach the great mosque, situate in themidst of it. As we were forbidden, however, not only to enterthe mosque, but even the courtyard, we were obliged to content ourselveswith wondering at the immense portals, and stealing furtive glancesat the interior of the open space beyond. This mosque was originallya Christian church; and a legend tells that St. George was decapitatedhere.

The khan, also situate in the midst of the bazaar, is peculiarlyfine, and is said to be the best in all the East. The high andboldly-arched portal is covered with marble, and enriched with beautifulsculptures. The interior forms a vast rotunda, surrounded by galleries,divided from each other, and furnished with writing-tables for the useof the merchants. Below in the hall the bales and chests are piledup, and at the side are apartments for travelling dealers. Thegreater portion of the floor and the walls is covered with marble.

Altogether, marble seems to be much sought after at Damascus.Every thing that passes for beautiful or valuable is either entirelycomposed of this stone, or at least is inlaid with it. Thus apretty fountain in a little square near the bazaar is of marble; anda coffee-house opposite the fountain, the largest and most frequentedof any in Damascus, is ornamented with a few small marble pillars.But all these buildings, not even excepting the great bathing-house,would be far less praised and looked at if they stood in a better neighbourhood.As the case is, however, they shine forth nobly from among the clayhouses of Damascus.

In the afternoon we visited the Grotto of St. Paul, lying immediatelyoutside the town. On the ramparts we were shewn the place wherethe apostle is said to have leaped from the wall on horseback, reachingthe ground in safety, and taking refuge from his enemies in the neighbouringgrotto, which is said to have closed behind him by miracle, and notto have opened again until his persecutors had ceased their pursuit.At present, nothing is to be seen of this grotto excepting a small stonearchway, like that of a bridge. Tombs of modern date, consistingof vaults covered with large blocks of stone, are very numerous nearthis grotto.

We paid several more visits, and every where found great pomp ofinner arrangement and decoration, varying of course in different houses.We were always served with coffee, sherbet, and argilé; and inthe houses of the Turks a dreary conversation was carried on throughthe medium of an interpreter.

Walks and places of amusem*nt there are none. The number ofFranks resident here is too small to call for a place of general recreation,and the Turk never feels a want of this kind. The most he doesis to saunter slowly from the bath to the coffee-house, and there tokill his time with the help of a pipe and a cup of coffee, staring vacantlyon the ground before him. Although the coffee-houses are morefrequented than any other buildings in the East, they are often miserablesheds, being all small, and generally built only of wood.

The inhabitants of Damascus wear the usual Oriental garb, but asa rule I thought them better dressed than in any Eastern town.Some of the women are veiled, but others go abroad with their facesuncovered. I saw here some very attractive countenances; and anunusual number of lovely children’s heads looked at me from allsides with an inquisitive smile.

In reference to religious matters, these people seem very fanatical;they particularly dislike strangers. For instance, the painterS. wished to make sketches of the khan, the fountain, and a few otherinteresting objects or views. For this purpose he sat down beforethe great coffee-house to begin with the fountain; but scarcely hadhe opened his portfolio before a crowd of curious idlers had gatheredaround him, who, as soon as they saw his intention, began to annoy himin every possible way. They pushed the children who stood nearagainst him, so that he received a shock every moment, and was hinderedin his drawing. As he continued to work in spite of their rudeness,several Turks came and stood directly before the painter, to preventhim from seeing the fountain. On his still continuing to persevere,they began to spit upon him. It was now high time to be gone,and so Mr. S. hastily gathered his materials together and turned todepart. Then the rage of the rabble broke noisily forth.They followed the artist yelling and screaming, and a few even threwstones at him. Luckily he succeeded in reaching our convent unharmed.

Mr. S. had been allowed to draw without opposition at Constantinople,Brussa, Ephesus, and several other cities of the East, but here he wasobliged to flee. Such is the disposition of these people, whommany describe as being so friendly.

The following morning at sunrise Mr. S. betook himself to the terraceof the convent, to make a sketch of the town. Here too he wasdiscovered, but luckily not until he had been at work some hours, andhad almost completed his task; so that as soon as the first stone cameflying towards him, he was able quietly to evacuate the field.

July 5th.

In Damascus we met Count Zichy, who had arrived there with his servantsa few days before ourselves, and intended continuing his journey toBalbeck to-day.

Count Zichy’s original intention had been to make an excursionfrom this place to the celebrated town of Palmyra, an undertaking whichwould have occupied ten days. He therefore applied to the pachafor a sufficient escort for his excursion. This request was, however,refused; the pacha observing, that he had ceased for some time to allowtravellers to undertake this dangerous journey, as until now all strangershad been plundered by the wandering Arabs, and in some instances menhad even been murdered. The pacha added, that it was not in hispower to furnish so large an escort as would be required to render thisjourney safe, by enabling the travellers to resist all aggressions.After receiving this answer, Count Zichy communicated with some Bedouinchiefs, who could not guarantee a safe journey, but nevertheless required6000 piastres for accompanying him. Thus it became necessary togive up the idea altogether, and to proceed instead to Balbeck and tothe heights of Lebanon.

At the hour of noon we rode out of the gate of Damascus in companywith Count Zichy. The thermometer stood at 40° Reaumur.Our procession presented quite a splendid appearance; for the pachahad sent a guard of honour to escort the Count to Balbeck, to testifyhis respect for a relation of Prince M---.

At first our way led through a portion of the bazaar; afterwardswe reached a large and splendid street which traverses the entire city,and is said to be more than four miles in length. It is so broad,that three carriages can pass each other with ease, without annoyanceto the pedestrians. It is a pity that this street, which is probablythe finest in the whole kingdom, should be so little used, for carriagesare not seen here any more than in the remaining portion of Syria.

Scarcely have we quitted this road, before we are riding throughgardens and meadows, among which the country-houses of the citizenslie scattered here and there. On this side of the city springsalso gush forth and water the fresh groves and the grassy sward.A stone bridge, of very simple construction, led us across the largeststream in the neighbourhood, the Barada, which is, however, neitherso broad nor so full of water as the Jordan.

But soon we had left these smiling scenes behind us, and were wendingour way towards the lonely desert. We passed several sepulchres,a number of which lie scattered over the sandy hills and plains roundus. On the summit of one of these hills a little monument waspointed out to us, with the assertion that it was the grave of Abraham.We now rode for hours over flats, hills, and ridges of sand and loosestones; and this day’s journey was as fatiguing as that of ourarrival at Damascus. From twelve o’clock at noon until aboutfive in the evening we continued our journey through this wilderness,suffering lamentably from the heat. But now the wilderness waspassed; and suddenly a picture so lovely and grand unfolded itself beforeour gaze, that we could have fancied ourselves transported to the romanticvales of Switzerland. A valley enriched with every charm of nature,and shut in by gigantic rocks of marvellous and fantastic forms, openedat our feet. A mountain torrent gushed from rock to rock, foamingand chafing among mighty blocks of stone, which, hurled from above,had here found their resting-place. A natural rocky bridge ledacross the roaring flood. Many a friendly hut, the inhabitantsof which looked forth with stealthy curiosity upon the strange visitors,lay half hidden between the lofty walls. And so our way continued;valley lay bordered on valley, and the little river which ran bubblingby the roadside led us past gardens and villages, through a region ofsurpassing loveliness, to the great village of Zabdeni, where we atlength halted, after an uninterrupted ride of ten hours and a half.

The escort which accompanied us consisted of twelve men, with a superiorand a petty officer. These troopers looked very picturesque when,as we travelled along the level road, they went through some small manœuvresfor our amusem*nt, rushing along on their swift steeds and attackingeach other, one party flying across the plain, and the other pursuingthem as victors.

The character of these children of nature is, on the whole, a veryamiable one. They behaved towards us in an exceedingly friendlyand courteous manner, bringing us fruit and water whenever they couldprocure them, leading us carefully by the safest roads, and shewingus as much attention as any European could have done. But theiridea of mine and thine does not always appear to be veryclearly defined. Once, for instance, we passed through fieldsin which grew a plant resembling our pea, on a reduced scale.Each plant contained several pods, and each pod two peas. Ourescort picked a large quantity, ate the fruit with an appearance ofgreat relish, and very politely gave us a share of their prize.I found these peas less tender and eatable than those of my own country,and returned them to the soldier who had offered them to me, observingat the same time that I would rather have had mish-mish. On hearingthis he immediately galloped off, and shortly afterwards returned witha whole cargo of mish-mish and little apples, which had probably beenborrowed for an indefinite period from one of the neighbouring gardens.I mention these little circ*mstances, as they appeared to me to be characteristic.On the one hand, Mr. S. had been threatened with the fate of St. Stephenfor wishing to make a few sketches; and yet, on the other, these peoplewere so kind and so ready to oblige.

This region produces abundance of fruit, and is particularly richin mish-mish, or apricots. The finest of these are dried; whilethose which are over-ripe, or half decayed, are boiled to a pulp inlarge pots, and afterwards spread to dry on long smooth boards, in theform of cakes, about half an inch in thickness. These cakes, whichlook like coarse brown leather, are afterwards folded up, and form,together with the dried mish-mish, a staple article of commerce, whichis exported far and wide. In Constantinople, and even in Servia,I saw cakes of this description which came from these parts.

The Turks are particularly fond of taking this dried pulp with themon their journeys. They cut it into little pieces, which theyafterwards leave for several hours in a cup of water to dissolve; itthen forms a really aromatic and refreshing drink, which they partakeof with bread.

From Damascus to Balbeck is a ride of eighteen hours. CountZichy wished to be in Balbeck by the next day at noon; we thereforehad but a short night’s rest.

The night was so mild and beautiful, that we did not want the tentsat all, but lay down on the bank of a streamlet, beneath the shade ofa large tree. For a long time sleep refused to visit us, for ourencampment was opposite to a coffee-house, where a great hubbub waskept up until a very late hour. Small caravans were continuallyarriving or departing, and so there was no chance of rest. Atlength we dropped quietly asleep from very weariness, to be awakeneda few hours afterwards to start once more on our arduous journey.

July 6th.

We rode without halting for eight hours, sometimes through pleasantvalleys, at others over barren unvarying regions, upon and between theheights of the Anti-Libanus. At the hour of noon we reached thelast hill, and

HELIOPOLIS OR BALBECK,

the “city of the sun,” lay stretched before us.

We entered a valley shut in by the highest snow-covered peaks ofLebanon and Anti-Libanus, more than six miles in breadth and fourteenor sixteen miles long, belonging to Cælosyria. Many travellerspraise this vale as one of the most beautiful in all Syria.

It certainly deserves the title of the ‘most remarkable’valley, for excepting at Thebes and Palmyra we may search in vain forthe grand antique ruins which are here met with; the title of the ‘mostbeautiful’ does not, according to my idea, appertain to it.The mountains around are desert and bare. The immeasurable plainis sparingly cultivated, and still more thinly peopled. With theexception of the town of Balbeck, which has arisen from the ruins ofthe ancient city, not a village nor a hut is to be seen. The corn,which still partly covered the fields, looked stunted and poor; thebeds of the streams were dry, and the grass was burnt up. Themajestic ruins, which become visible directly the brow of the last hillis gained, atone in a measure for these drawbacks; but we were not satisfied,for we had expected to see much more than met our gaze.

We wended our way along stony paths, past several quarries, towardsthe ruins. On reaching these quarries we dismounted, to obtaina closer view of them. In the right hand one lies a colossal blockof stone, cut and shaped on all sides; it is sixty feet in length, eighteenin breadth, and thirteen in diameter. This giant block was probablyintended to form part of the Cyclops wall surrounding the Temple ofthe Sun, for we afterwards noticed several stones of equal length andbreadth among the ruins. Another to the left side of the roadwas remarkable for several grottoes and fragments of rock picturesquelygrouped.

We had sent our horses on to the convent, and now hastened towardsthe ruined temples. At the foot of a little acclivity a wall roselofty and majestic; it was constructed of colossal blocks of rock, whichseemed to rest firmly upon each other by their own weight, without requiringthe aid of mortar. Three of these stones were exactly the sizeof one we had seen in the quarry. Many appeared to be sixty feetin length, and broad and thick in proportion. This is the Cyclopswall surrounding the hill on which the temples stand. A difficultpath, over piled-up fragments of marble and pieces of rock and rubbish,serves as a natural rampart against the intrusion of camels and horses;and this circ*mstance alone has prevented these sanctuaries of the heathendeities from being converted into dirty stables.

When we had once passed this obstruction, delight and wonder arrestedour footsteps. For some moments our glances wandered irresolutelyfrom point to point; we could fix our attention on nothing, so greatwas the number of beauties surrounding us: splendid architecture—archesrising boldly into the air, supported on lofty pillars—every thingwore an air so severely classic, and yet all was gorgeously elegant,and at the same time perfectly tasteful.

At first we reviewed every thing in a very hasty manner, for ourimpulse hurried us along, and we wished to take in every thing at oneglance. Afterwards we began a new and a more deliberate survey.

As we enter a large open courtyard, our eye is caught by numerouspieces of marble and fragments of columns, some of the latter restingon tastefully sculptured plinths. Almost every thing here is prostrate,covered with rubbish and broken fragments, but yet all looks grand andmajestic in its ruin. We next enter a second and a larger courtyard,above two hundred paces in length and about a hundred in breadth.Round the walls are niches cut in marble, and ornamented with the prettiestarabesques. These niches were probably occupied in former timesby statues of the numerous heathen gods. Behind these are littlecells, the dwellings of the priests; and in the foreground rise sixCorinthian pillars, the only trace left of the great Temple of the Sun.These six pillars, which have hitherto bid defiance to time, devastation,and earthquakes, are supposed to be the loftiest and most magnificentin the world. Nearly seventy feet in height, each pillar a rockycolossus, resting on a basem*nt twenty-seven feet high, covered withexcellent workmanship, a masterpiece of ancient architecture, they towerabove the Cyclops wall, and look far away into the distance—giantmonuments of the hoary past.

How vast thus temple must originally have been is shewn by the remainingpedestals, from which the pillars have fallen, and lay strewed aroundin weather-stained fragments. I counted twenty such pedestalsalong the length of the temple, and ten across its breadth.

The lesser temple, separated from the greater merely by a wall, liesdeeper and more sheltered from the wind and weather; consequently itis in better preservation. A covered hall, resting on pillarsfifty feet in height, leads round this temple. Statues of godsand heroes, beautifully sculptured in marble, and surrounded by arabesques,deck the lofty arches of this corridor. The pillars consist ofthree pieces fastened together with such amazing strength, that whenthe last earthquake threw down a column it did not break, but fell withits top buried in the earth, where it is seen leaning its majestic heightagainst a hill.

From this hall we pass through a splendid portal into the interiorof the little sanctuary. An eagle with outspread wings overshadowsthe upper part of the gate, which is thirty feet in height by twentyin breadth. The two sides are enriched with small figures prettilyexecuted, in a tastefully-carved border of flowers, fruit, ears of corn,and arabesques. This portal is in very good preservation, exceptingthat the keystone has slipped from its place, and hangs threateninglyover the entrance, to the terror of all who pass beneath. Butwe entered and afterwards returned unhurt, and many will yet pass unharmedlike ourselves beneath the loose stone. We shall have returnedto dust, while the pendent mass will still see generation after generationroll on.

This lesser temple would not look small by any means, were it notfor its colossal neighbour. On one side nine, and on the othersix pillars are still erect, besides several pedestals from which thepillars have fallen. Walls, niches, every thing around us, infact, is of marble, enriched with sculptured work of every kind.The sanctuary of the Sun is separated from the nave of the temple bya row of pillars, most of them prostrate.

To judge from what remains of both these temples, they must originallyhave been decorated with profuse splendour. The costliest statuesand bas-reliefs, sculptured in a stone resembling marble, once filledthe niches and halls, and the remains of tasteful ornaments and arabesquesbear witness to the luxury which once existed here. The only faultseems to have been a redundancy of decoration.

A subterranean vaulted passage, two hundred and fifty paces in lengthand thirty in breadth, traverses this temple. In the midst ofthis walk a colossal head is hewn out of the rocky ceiling representingprobably some hero of antiquity. This place is now converted intoa stable for horses and camels!

The little brook Litany winds round the foot of the hill on whichthese ruins stand.

We had been cautioned at Damascus to abstain from wandering aloneamong these temples; but our interest in all we saw was so great thatwe forgot the warning and our fears, and hastened to and fro withoutthe least protection. We spent several hours here, exploring everycorner, and meeting no one but a few curious inhabitants, who wishedto see the newly-arrived Franks. Herr S. even wandered throughthe ruins at night quite alone, without meeting with an adventure ofany kind.

I am almost inclined to think that travellers sometimes detail attacksby robbers, and dangers which they have not experienced, in order torender their narrative more interesting. My journey was a verylong one through very dangerous regions; on some occasions I travelledalone with only one Arab servant, and yet nothing serious ever happenedto me.

Heliopolis is in such a ruined state, that no estimate can be formedof the pristine size and splendour of this celebrated town. Exceptingthe two temples of the Sun, and a very small building in their vicinity,built in a circular form and richly covered with sculpture and arabesques,and a few broken pillars, not a trace of the ancient city remains.

The present town of Balbeck is partly built on the site occupiedby its predecessor; it lies to the right of the temples, and consistsof a heap of small wretched-looking houses and huts. The largestbuildings in the place are the convent and the barracks; the latterof these presents an exceedingly ridiculous appearance; fragments ofancient pillars, statues, friezes, etc. having been collected from allsides, and put together to form a modern building according to Turkishnotions of taste.

We were received into the convent, but could command no further accommodationthan an empty room and a few straw mats. Our attendant broughtus pilau, the every-day dish of the East; but to-day he surprised uswith a boiled fowl, buried beneath a heap of the Turkish fare.Count Zichy added a few bottles of excellent wine from Lebanon to thefeast; and so we sat down to dinner without tables or chairs, as merryas mortals need desire to be.

Here, as in most other Eastern towns, I had only to step out on theterrace-roof of the house to cause a crowd of old and young to collect,eager to see a Frankish woman in the costume of her country. Whoeverwishes to create a sensation, without possessing either genius or talent,has only to betake himself, without loss of time, to the East, and hewill have his ambition gratified to the fullest extent. But whoeverhas as great an objection to being stared at as I have, will easilyunderstand that I reckoned this among the greatest inconveniences ofmy journey.

July 7th.

At five o’clock in the morning we again mounted our horses,and rode for three hours through an immense plain, where nothing wasto be seen but scattered columns, towards the foremost promontoriesof the Lebanon range. The road towards the heights was sufficientlygood and easy; we were little disturbed by the heat, and brooks causedby the thawing of snow-fields afforded us most grateful refreshment.In the middle of the day we took an hour’s nap under the shadytrees beside a gushing stream; then we proceeded to climb the heights.As we journeyed onwards the trees became fewer and farther between,until at length no soil was left in which they could grow.

The way was so confined by chasms and abysses on the one side, andwalls of rock on the other, that there was scarcely room for a horseto pass. Suddenly a loud voice before us cried, “Halt!”Startled by the sound, we looked up to find that the call came froma soldier, who was escorting a woman afflicted with the plague froma village where she had been the first victim of the terrible diseaseto another where it was raging fearfully. It was impossible toturn aside; so the soldier had no resource but to drag the sick personsome paces up the steep rocky wall, and then we had to pass close byher. The soldier called out to us to cover our mouths and noses.He himself had anointed the lower part of his face with tar, as a preventiveagainst contagion.

This was the first plague-stricken person I had seen; and as we werecompelled to pass close by her, I had an opportunity of observing theunfortunate creature closely. She was bound on an ass, appearedresigned to her fate, and turned her sunken eyes upon us with an aspectof indifference. I could see no trace of the terrible disease,except a yellow appearance of the face. The soldier who accompaniedher seemed as cool and indifferent as though he were walking besidea person in perfect health.

As the plague prevailed to a considerable extent throughout the valleysof the Lebanon, we were frequently obliged to go some distance out ofour way to avoid the villages afflicted with the scourge; we usuallyencamped for the night in the open fields, far from any habitation.

On the whole long distance from Balbeck to the cedars of Lebanonwe found not a human habitation, excepting a little shepherd’shut near the mountains. Not more than a mile and a half from theheights we came upon small fields of snow. Several of our attendantsdismounted and began a snow-balling match,—a wintry scene whichreminded me of my fatherland. Although we were travelling on snow,the temperature was so mild that not one of our party put on a cloak.We could not imagine how it was possible for snow to exist in such ahigh temperature. The thermometer stood at 9° Reaumur.

A fatiguing and dangerous ride of five hours at length brought usfrom the foot to the highest point of Mount Lebanon. Here, forthe first time, we can see the magnitude and the peculiar constructionof the range.

Steep walls of rock, with isolated villages scattered here and therelike beehives, and built on natural rocky terraces, rise on all sides;deep valleys lie between, contrasting beautifully in their verdant freshnesswith the bare rocky barriers. Farther on lie stretched elevatedplateaux, with cows and goats feeding at intervals; and in the remotedistance glitters a mighty stripe of bluish-green, encircling the landscapelike a broad girdle—this is the Mediterranean. On the flatextended coast several places can be distinguished, among which themost remarkable is Tripoli. On the right the “Grove of Cedars”lay at our feet.

For a long time we stood on this spot, and turned and turned again,for fear of losing any part of this gigantic panorama. On oneside the mountain-range, with its valleys, rocks, and gorges; on theother the immense plain of Cælosyria, on the verge of which theruins of the Sun-temple were visible, glittering in the noontide rays.Then we climbed downwards and upwards, then downwards once more, throughravines and over rocks, along a frightful path, to a little grove ofthe far-famed cedars of Lebanon. In this direction the peculiarpointed formation which constitutes the principal charm of these mountainsonce more predominates.

The celebrated Grove of Cedars is distant about two miles and a halffrom the summit of Lebanon; it consists of between five and six hundredtrees: about twenty of these are very aged, and five peculiarly largeand fine specimens are said to have existed in the days of Solomon.One tree is more than twenty-five feet in circumference; at about fivefeet from the ground it divides into four portions, and forms as manygood-sized trunks.

For more than an hour we rested beneath these ancient monuments ofthe vegetable world. The setting sun warned us to depart speedily;for our destination for the night was above three miles away, and itwas not prudent to travel on these fearful paths in the darkness.

Our party here separated. Count Zichy proceeded with his attendantsto Huma, while the rest of us bent our course towards Tripoli.After a hearty leave-taking, one company turned to the right and theother to the left.

We had hardly held on our way for half an hour, before one of theloveliest valleys I have ever beheld opened at our feet; immense andlofty walls of rock, of the most varied and fantastic shapes, surroundedthis fairy vale on all sides: in the foreground rose a gigantic table-rock,on which was built a beautiful village, with a church smiling in themidst. Suddenly the sound of chimes was borne upwards towardsus on the still clear air; they were the first I had heard in Syria.I cannot describe the feeling of delicious emotion this familiar soundcaused in me. The Turkish government every where prohibits theringing of bells; but here on the mountains, among the free Maronites,every thing is free. The sound of church-bells is a simple earnestmusic for Christian ears, too intimately associated with the usagesof our religion to be heard with indifference. Here, so far frommy native country, they appeared like links in the mysterious chainwhich binds the Christians of all countries in one unity. I felt,as it were, nearer to my hearth and to my dear ones, who were, perhaps,at the same moment listening to similar sounds, and thinking of thedistant wanderer.

The road leading into this valley was fearfully steep. We wereobliged to make a considerable détour round the lovelyvillage of Bscharai; for the plague was raging there, which made itforbidden ground for us. Some distance beyond the village we pitchedour camp beside a small stream. This night we suffered much fromcold and damp.

The inhabitants of Bscharai paid us a visit for the purpose of demandingbacksheesh. We had considerable difficulty in getting rid of them,and were obliged almost to beat them off with sticks to escape fromtheir contagious touch.

The practice of begging is universal in the East. So soon asan inhabitant comes in sight, he is sure to be holding out his hand.In those parts where poverty is every where apparent, we cannot wonderat this importunity; but we are justly surprised when we find it inthese fruitful valleys, which offer every thing that man can require;where the inhabitants are well clothed, and where their stone dwellingslook cheerful and commodious; where corn, the grape-vine, the fig andmulberry tree, and even the valuable potato-plant, which cannot flourishthroughout the greater part of Syria on account of the heat and thestony soil, are found in abundance. Every spot of earth is carefullycultivated and turned to the best account, so that I could have fanciedmyself among the industrious German peasantry; and yet these free peoplebeg and steal quite as much as the Bedouins and Arabs. We wereobliged to keep a sharp watch on every thing. My riding-whip wasstolen almost before my very eyes, and one of the gentlemen had hispocket picked of his handkerchief.

Our march to-day had been very fatiguing; we had ridden for elevenhours, and the greater part of the road had been very bad. Thenight brought us but little relaxation, for our cloaks did not sufficientlyprotect us from the cold.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Lebanon—Druses and Maronites—Illness of Herr Sattler—Djebelor Byblus—Rocky passes—Dog’s-river—Return toBeyrout—Sickness—Departure for Alexandria—Rogueryof the captain—Disagreeables on board—Limasol—Alarmof pirates—Cowardice of the crew—Arrival at Alexandria.

July 8th.

To-day we quitted our cold hard couch at six o’clock in themorning, and travelled agreeably for two hours through this romanticvalley, which appeared almost at every step in a new aspect of increasedbeauty. Above the village a foaming stream bursts from the mightyrocks in a beautiful waterfall, irrigates the valley, and then vanishesimperceptibly among the windings of the ravine. Brooks similarto this one, but smaller, leapt from the mountains round about.On the rocky peaks we seem to behold ruined castles and towers, butdiscover with astonishment, as we approach nearer, that what we supposedto be ruins are delusive pictures, formed by the wonderful masses ofrock, grouped one above the other in the most fantastic forms.In the depths on the one side, grottoes upon grottoes are seen, somewith their entrances half concealed, others with gigantic portals, abovewhich the wild rocks tower high; on the other a rich soil is spreadin the form of terraces on the rocky cliffs, forming a lovely pictureof refreshing vegetation. Had I been a painter, it would havebeen difficult to tear me away from the contemplation of these regions.

Below the greater waterfall a narrow stone bridge, without balustradesor railing, leads across a deep ravine, through which the stream rushesfoaming, to the opposite shore. After having once crossed, weenter upon a more inhabited tract of country, and travel on betweenrows of houses and gardens. But many of the houses stood empty,the inhabitants having fled into the fields, and there erected hutsof branches of trees, to escape the plague. The Maronites, thereal inhabitants of these mountains, are strong people, gifted witha determined will; they cannot be easily brought under a foreign yoke,but are ready to defend their liberty to the death among the naturalstrongholds of their rocky passes. Their religion resembles thatof the Christians, and their priests are permitted to marry. Thewomen do not wear veils, but I saw few such handsome countenances amongthem as I have frequently observed in the Tyrol.

On the first mountain-range of Lebanon, in the direction of Cælosyria,many Druses are found, besides a few tribes of “Mutualis.”The former incline to the Christian faith, while the latter are generallytermed “calf-worshippers.” They practise their religionso secretly, that nothing certain is known concerning it; the generalsupposition is, however, that they worship their deity under the formof a calf.

Our way led onwards, for about six miles from Bscharai, through thebeautiful valleys of the Lebanon. Then the smiling nature changed,and we were again wandering through sterile regions. The heat,too, became very oppressive; but every thing would have been borne cheerfullyhad there not been an invalid among us.

Herr Sattler had felt rather unwell on the previous day; to-day hegrew so much worse that he could not keep his seat in his saddle, andfell to the ground half insensible. Luckily we found a cisternnot far off, and near it some trees, beneath which we made a bed ofcloaks for our sick friend. A little water mixed with a few dropsof strong vinegar restored him to consciousness. After the lapseof an hour, the patient was indeed able to resume his journey; but lassitude,headache, and feverish shiverings still remained, and we had a rideof many hours before us ere we could reach our resting-place for thenight. From every hill we climbed the ocean could be seen at soshort a distance that we thought an hour’s journeying must bringus there. But each time another mountain thrust itself between,which it was necessary to climb. So it went on for many hours,till at length we reached a small valley with a lofty isolated massof rock in the midst, crowned by a ruined castle. The approachto this stronghold was by a flight of stairs cut in the rock.From this point our journey lay at least over a better road, betweenmeadows and fruit-trees, to the little town which we reached at night-fall.We had a long and weary search before we could obtain for our sick comradeeven a room, destitute of every appearance of comfort. Poor HerrSattler, more dead than alive, was compelled, after a ride of thirteenhours, to take up his lodging on the hard ground. The room wasperfectly bare, the windows were broken, and the door would not lock.We were fain to search for a few boards, with which we closed up thewindows, that the sick man might at least be sheltered from the currentof air.

I then prepared him a dish of rice with vinegar; this was the onlyrefreshment we were able to procure.

The rest of us lay down in the yard; but the anxiety we felt concerningour sick friend prevented us from sleeping much. He exhibitedevery symptom of the plague; in this short time his countenance wasquite changed; violent headache and exhaustion prevented him from moving,and the burning heat added the pangs of thirst to his other ills.As we had been travelling for the last day and a half through regionswhere the pestilence prevailed, it appeared but too probable that HerrSattler had been attacked by it. Luckily the patient himself hadnot any idea of the kind, and we took especial care that he should notread our anxiety in our countenances.

July 9th.

Heaven be praised, Herr Sattler was better to-day, though too weakto continue his journey. As we had thus some time on our hands,the French gentleman and I resolved to embark in a boat to witness theoperation of fishing for sponges, by which a number of the poorer inhabitantsof the Syrian coast gain their livelihood.

A fisherman rowed us about half a mile out to sea, till he came toa place where he hoped to find something. Here he immersed a plummetin the sea to sound its depth, and on finding that some thing was tobe gained here, he dived downwards armed with a knife to cut the spongehe expected to find from the rocks; and after remaining below the surfacefor two or three minutes, reappeared with his booty, When first loosenedfrom the rocks, these sponges are usually full of shells and small stones,which give them a very strong and disagreeable smell. They requireto be thoroughly cleansed from dirt and well washed with sea-water beforebeing put into fresh.

After our little water-party, we sallied forth to see the town, whichis very prettily situated among plantations of mulberry-trees in thevicinity of the sea-coast. The women here are not only unveiled,but frequently wear their necks bare; we saw some of them working intheir gardens and washing linen; they were half undressed. Wevisited the bazaar, intending to purchase a few eggs and cucumbers forour dinner, and some oranges for our convalescent friend. Butwe could not obtain any; and moderate as our wishes were, it was outof our power to gratify them.

By the afternoon Herr Sattler had so far regained his strength, thathe could venture to undertake a short journey of ten miles to the littletown of Djäebbehl. This stage was the less difficult forour worthy invalid from the fact that the road lay pleasantly acrossa fruitful plain skirting the sea, while a cool sea-breeze took awaythe oppressiveness of the heat. The majestic Lebanon bounded thedistant view on the left, and several convents on the foremost chainof mountains looked down upon the broad vale.

We seemed to have but just mounted our horses when we already descriedthe castle of the town to which we were bound rising above its walls,and soon after halted at a large khan in its immediate neighbourhood.There were large rooms here in plenty, but all were empty, and the unglazedwindows could not even be closed by shutters.

Houses of entertainment of this description barely shield the travellerfrom the weather. We took possession of a large entrance-hallfor our night’s quarters, and made ourselves as comfortable aswe could.

Count Berchtold and I walked into the town of Djäebbehl (Byblus).This place is, as I have already mentioned, surrounded by a wall; itcontains also a small bazaar, where we did not find much to buy.The majority of dwellings are built in gardens of mulberry-trees.The castle lies rather high, and is still in the condition to whichit was reduced after the siege by the English in 1840; the side frontingthe ocean has sustained most damage. This castle is now uninhabited,but some of the lower rooms are converted into stables. Not faroff we found some fragments of ancient pillars; an amphitheatre is saidto have once stood here.

July 10th.

To-day Herr Sattler had quite recovered his health, so that we couldagain commence our journey, according to custom, early in the morning.Our road lay continually by the sea-shore. The views were alwayspicturesque and beautiful, as on the way from Batrun to Djäebbehl;but to-day we had the additional luxury of frequently coming upon brookswhich flowed from the neighbouring Lebanon, and of passing springs burstingforth near the seashore; one indeed so close to the sea, that the wavescontinually dashed over it.

After riding forward for four hours, we reached the so-called “Dog’s-river,”the greatest and deepest on the whole journey. This stream alsohas its origin in the heights of the Lebanon, and after a short coursefalls into the neighbouring sea.

At the entrance of the valley where the Dog’s-river flowedlay a simple khan. Here we made halt to rest for an hour.

Generally we got nothing to eat during the day, as we seldom or neverpassed a village; even when we came upon a house, there was rarely anything to be had but coffee: we were therefore the more astonished tofind here fresh figs, cucumbers, butter-milk, and wine,—thingswhich in Syria make a feast for the gods. We revelled in thisunwonted profusion, and afterwards rode into the valley, which smiledupon us in verdant luxuriance.

This vale cannot be more than five or six hundred feet in breadth.On either side high walls rise towering up; and on the left we see theruins of an aqueduct quite overgrown with ivy. This aqueduct isseven or eight hundred paces in length, and extends as far as the spotwhere the Dog’s-river rushes over rocks and stones, forming nota lofty, but yet a fine waterfall. Just below this fall a bridgeof Roman architecture, supported boldly on rocky buttresses, unitesthe two shores. The road to this bridge is by a broad flight ofstone stairs, upon which our good Syrian horses carried us in perfectsafety both upwards and downwards; it was a fearful, dizzy road.The river derives its name from a stone lying near it, which is saidto resemble a dog in form. Stones and pieces of rock, againstwhich the stream rushed foaming, we saw in plenty, but none in whichwe could discover any resemblance to a dog. Perhaps the contourhas been destroyed by the action of wind and weather.

Scarcely had we crossed this dangerous bridge when the road woundsharply round a rock in the small but blooming valley, and we journeyedtowards the heights up almost perpendicular rocks, and past abyssesthat overhung the sea.

The rocky mountain we were now climbing juts far out into the sea,and forms a pass towards the territory of Beyrout which a handful ofmen might easily hold against an army. Such a pass may that ofThermopylæ have been; and had these mountaineers but a Leonidas,they would certainly not be far behind the ancient Spartans.

A Latin inscription on a massive stone slab, and higher up four niches,two of which contain statues, while the others display similar inscriptions,seemed to indicate that the Romans had already known and appreciatedthe importance of this pass. Unfortunately both statues and writingwere so much injured by the all-destroying hand of time, that only aman learned in these matters could have deciphered their meaning.In our party there was no one equal to such a task.

We rode on for another half-hour, after which the path led downwardsinto the territory of Beyrout; and we rode quietly and comfortably bythe sea-side towards this city. Mulberry trees and vineyards bloomedaround us, country-houses and villages lay half hidden between, andconvents crowned the lower peaks of the Lebanon, which on this sidedisplays only naked rocks, the majority of a bluish-grey colour.

At a little distance from Beyrout we came upon a second giant bridge,similar to that over the Dog’s-river. Broad staircases,on which four or five horsem*n could conveniently ride abreast, ledupwards and downwards. The steps are so steep, and lie so farapart, that it seems almost incredible that the poor horses should beable to ascend and descend upon them. We looked down from a dizzyheight, not upon a river, but upon a dry river-bed.

At five o’clock in the evening we arrived safely at Beyrout;and thus ended our excursion to the “lovely and incomparable cityof the East,” to the world-renowned ruin, and to the venerableGrove of Cedars. Our tour had occupied ten days; the distancewas about 180 miles; namely, from Beyrout to Damascus about 60, fromDamascus to Balbeck 40, and from Balbeck across the Lebanon to Beyroutabout 80 miles.

Of four-footed beasts, amphibious creatures, birds, or insects, wehad seen nothing. Count Berchtold caught a chameleon, which unfortunatelyeffected its escape from its prison a few days afterwards. Atnight we frequently heard the howling of jackals, but never experiencedany annoyance from them. We had not to complain of the attacksof insects; but suffered much from the dreadful heat, besides beingfrequently obliged to endure hunger and thirst: the thermometer oneday rose to 40°.

In Beyrout I once more put up at the house of the kind French lady.The first piece of news I heard was that I had arrived twenty-four hourstoo late, and had thus missed the English packet-boat; this was a mostannoying circ*mstance, for the boat in question only starts for Alexandriaonce a month (on the 8th or 9th), and at other times it is a great chanceif an opportunity of journeying thither can be found. On the verynext day I hastened to the Austrian consulate, and begged the Vice-consul,Herr C., to let me know when a ship was about to start for Egypt, andalso to engage a place for me. I was told that a Greek vesselwould start for that country in two or three days; but these two orthree days grew into nineteen.

Never shall I forget what I had to endure in Beyrout. WhenI could no longer bear the state of things at night in the Noah’sark of my good Pauline, I used to creep through the window on to a terrace,and sleep there; but was obliged each time to retire to my room beforedaybreak lest I should be discovered. It is said that misfortunesseldom happen singly, and my case was not an exception to the rule.One night I must have caught cold; for in the morning when I hastenedback to my prison, and lay down on the bed to recover from the effectsof my stone couch, I experienced such an acute pain in my back and hipsthat I was unable to rise. It happened to be a Sunday morning,a day on which my kind Pauline did not come to the house, as there wasno school to keep; and so I lay for twenty-four hours in the greatestpain, without help, unable even to obtain a drop of water. I wastotally unable to drag myself to the door, or to the place where thewater-jug stood. The next day, I am thankful to say, I felt somewhatbetter; my Pauline also came, and prepared me some mutton-broth.By the fourth day I was once more up, and had almost recovered fromthe attack.

JOURNEY FROM BEYROUT TO CAIRO AND ALEXANDRIA.

It was not until the 28th of July that a Greek brig set sail forAlexandria. At ten o’clock in the evening I betook myselfon board, and the next morning at two we weighed anchor. Neverhave I bid adieu to any place with so much joy as I felt on leavingthe town of Beyrout; my only regret was the parting from my kind Pauline.I had met many good people during my journey, but she was certainlyone of the best.

Unhappily, my cruel fate was not yet weary of pursuing me; and inmy experience I fully realised the old proverb of, “out of thefrying-pan into the fire.” On this vessel, and during thetime we had to keep quarantine in Alexandria, I was almost worse offthan during my stay in Beyrout. It is necessary, in dealing withthe captain of a vessel of this description, to have a written contractfor every thing—stating, for instance, where he is to land, howlong he may stay at each place, etc. I mentioned this fact atthe consulate, and begged the gentlemen to do what was necessary; butthey assured me the captain was known to be a man of honour, and thatthe precaution I wished to take would be quite superfluous. Uponthis assumption, I placed myself fearlessly in the hands of the man;but scarcely had we lost sight of land, when he frankly declared thatthere were not sufficient provisions and water on board to allow ofour proceeding to Alexandria, but that he must make for the harbourof Limasol in Cyprus. I was exceedingly angry at this barefacedfraud, and at the loss of time it would occasion me, and offered allthe opposition I could. But nothing would avail me; I had no writtencontract, and the rest of the company offered no active resistance—soto Cyprus we went.

A voyage in an ordinary sailing-vessel, which is not a packet-boat,is as wearisome a thing as can be well conceived. The lower portionof the ship is generally so crammed with merchandise, that the deckalone remains for the passengers. This was the case on the presentoccasion. I was obliged to remain continually on deck: duringthe daytime, when I had only my umbrella to shield me from the piercingrays of the sun; at night, when the dews fell so heavily, that afteran hour my cloak would be quite wet through, in cold and in stormy weather.They did not even spread a piece of sailcloth by way of awning.This state of things continued for ten days and eleven nights, duringwhich time I had not even an opportunity to change my clothes.This was a double hardship; for if there is a place above all otherswhere cleanliness becomes imperative to comfort, it is certainly onboard a Greek ship, the generality of which are exceedingly dirty anddisgusting. The company I found did not make amends for the accommodation.The only Europeans on board were two young men, who had received someunimportant situation in a quarantine office from the Turkish government.The behaviour of both was conceited, stupid, and withal terribly vulgar.Then there were four students from Alexandria, who boarded at Beyrout,and were going home to spend the vacation—good-natured but much-neglectedlads of fourteen or fifteen years, who seemed particularly partial tothe society of the sailors, and were always talking, playing, or quarrellingwith them. The remainder of the company consisted of a rich Arabfamily, with several male and female negro slaves, and a few very poorpeople. And in such society I was to pass a weary time.Many will say that this was a good opportunity for obtaining an insightinto the customs and behaviour of these people; but I would gladly havedeclined the opportunity, for it requires an almost angelic patienceto bear such a complication of evils with equanimity. Among theArabs and the lower class of Greeks, moreover, every thing possessedby one member of the community is looked upon as public property.A knife, a pair of scissors, a drinking-glass, or any other small article,is taken from its owner without permission, and is given back afteruse without being cleaned. On the mat, the carpet, or the mattress,which you have brought on board as bedding, a negro and his master willlie down; and wherever a vacant space is left, some one is sure to standor lie down. Take what precautions you may, it is impossible toavoid having your person and garments infested by certain very disgustingparasitical creatures. One day I cleaned my teeth with a toothbrush;one of the Greek sailors, noticing what I was about, came towards me,and when I laid the brush down for an instant, took it up. I thoughthe only wished to examine it; but no, he did exactly as I had done,and after cleaning his teeth returned me my brush, expressing himselfentirely satisfied with it.

The diet on board a vessel of this kind is also exceedingly bad.For dinner we have pilau, stale cheese, and onions; in the evening,we get anchovies, olives, stale cheese again, and ship-biscuit insteadof bread. These appetising dishes are placed in a tray on theground, round which the captains (of whom there are frequently two orthree), the mate, and those passengers who have not come furnished withprovisions of their own, take their places. I did not take partin these entertainments; for I had brought a few live fowls, besidessome rice, butter, dried bread, and coffee, and prepared my own meals.The voyage in one of these agreeable ships is certainly not very dear,if we do not take the discomforts and privations into account; but theseI can really not estimate at too high a price. For the voyageto Alexandria (a distance of 2000 sea-miles) I paid sixty piastres;the provisions I took with me cost thirty more; and thus the entirejourney came only to ninety piastres.

In general the wind was very unfavourable, so that we frequentlycruised about for whole nights, and awoke in the morning to find ourselvesin almost the same position we had occupied the previous evening.

This is one of the most disagreeable impressions, and one which canscarcely be described, to be continually driving and driving withoutapproaching the conclusion of your journey. To my shame I mustconfess that I sometimes shed tears of regret and annoyance. Myfellow-passengers could not at all understand why I was so impatient;for, with their constitutional indolence, they were quite indifferentas to whether they spent their time for a week or a fortnight longerin smoking, sleeping, and idling on board or on shore—whetherthey were carried to Cyprus or Alexandria. It was not until thefourth day that we landed at

LIMASOL.

This place contains pretty houses, some of which are even providedwith slated roofs, and resemble European habitations. Here, forthe first time since my departure from Constantinople, I saw a vehicle;it was not, however, a coach, but simply a wooden two-wheeled cart,and is used to transport stones, earth, and merchandise. The regionaround Limasol is barren in the extreme, almost like that of Larnaca,except that the mountains are here much nearer.

We stayed in this port the whole of the day; and now I learnt forthe first time that the captain had not put in here so much on accountof scarcity of provisions, as because he wanted to take in wine andendeavour to take in passengers. Of the latter, however, nonepresented themselves. The wine is very cheap; I bought a bottlecontaining about three pints for a piastre. As soon as we wereagain at sea, our worthy captain gave out that he wished to call atDamietta. My patience was at length exhausted. I calledhim a cheat, and insisted that he should bend his course to no otherport than to Alexandria, otherwise I should have him brought beforea judge if it cost me a hundred piastres. This remonstrance producedso much effect upon the captain, that he promised me not to cast anchorany where else; and, marvellous to relate, he kept his word.

One other circ*mstance occurred during this journey which is interestingas furnishing a sample of the heroism of the modern Greeks.

On the 5th of August, about noon, our sailors discovered a two-mastedship in the distance, which altered her course immediately on perceivingour vessel, and came sailing towards us. It was at once concludedby all that this ship must be a pirate, else why did she alter her courseand give chase to us? The circ*mstance was indeed singular; yetthese maritime heroes ought to have been used to all kinds of adventures,and not at once to have feared the worst, particularly as, so far asI am aware, the pirate’s trade is very nearly broken up, and attemptsof this kind are unprecedented—at least in these regions.

A painter like Hogarth should have been on board our ship, to markthe expression of fear and cowardice depicted on the several countenances.It was wonderful to behold how the poor captains ran from one end ofthe ship to the other, and huddled us travellers together into a heap,recommending us to sit still and keep silence; how they then hurriedaway and ran to and fro, making signs and gestures, while the pale sailorstumbled after them with scared faces, wringing their hands. Anyone who had not witnessed the scene would think this description exaggerated.What would the Grecian heroes of antiquity say if they could throw aglance upon their gallant descendants! Instead of arming themselvesand making preparations, the men ran about in the greatest confusion.We were in this enviable state when the dreaded pirate came within gunshot;and the reason of her approach turned out to be that her compass wasbroken. The whole scene at once changed, as though a beneficentfairy had waved her wand. The captains instantly recovered theirdignity, the sailors embraced and jumped about like children, and wepoor travellers were released from durance and permitted to take partin the friendly interview between the two heroic crews.

The captain who had spoken us asked our gallant leader in what latitudewe were, and hearing that we were sailing to Alexandria, requested thata lantern should be hung at the mainmast-head, at which he might lookas at a guiding-star.

With the exception of Cyprus, we had seen no land during all ourweary journey. We could only judge when we arrived in the neighbourhoodof Damietta by the altered colour of the sea; as far as the eye couldreach, the beautiful dark-blue wave had turned to the colour of theyellow Nile. From these tokens I could judge of the magnitudeand volume of that river, which at this season of the year increasesgreatly, and had already been rising for two months.

August 7th.

At eight o’clock in the morning we safely reached the quayof Alexandria.

CHAPTER XIV.

Alexandria—Keeping quarantine—Want of arrangementin the quarantine house—Bad water—Fumigating of the rooms—Release—Aspectof the city—Departure by boat for Atfé—Mehemet Ali—Arrivalat Atfé—Excellence of the Nile water—Good-natureof the Arab women—The Delta of the Nile—The Libyan desert—Thepyramids—Arrival at Cairo.

At first we could only perceive the tops of masts, behind which lowobjects seemed to be hiding as they rose from the sea. In a littletime a whole forest of masts appeared, while the objects before mentionedtook the shape of houses peering forth amongst them. At lengththe land itself could be distinguished from the surrounding ocean, andwe discerned hills, shrubberies, and gardens in the vicinity of thetown, the appearance of which is not calculated to delight the traveller,for a large desert region of sand girdles both city and gardens, givingan air of dreariness to the whole scene.

We cast anchor between the lighthouse and the new hospital.No friendly boat was permitted to approach and carry us to the wished-forshore; we came from the land of the plague to enter another region afflictedwith the same scourge, and yet we were compelled to keep quarantine,for the Egyptians asserted that the Syrian plague was more malignantthan the variety of the disease raging among them. Thus a compulsoryquarantine is always enforced in these regions, a circ*mstance alikeprejudicial to visitors, commerce, and shipping.

We waited with fear and trembling to hear how long a period of banishmentin the hospital should be awarded us. At length came a littleskiff, bringing two guardians (servants of the hospital), and with themthe news that we must remain in the hospital ten days from the periodof our entrance, but that we could not disembark to-day, as it was Sunday.Excepting at the arrival of the English packet-boats, the officialshave no time to examine vessels on Sundays or holidays,—a trulyEgyptian arrangement. Why could not an officer be appointed forthese days to take care of the poor travellers? Why should fiftypersons suffer for the convenience of one, and be deprived of theirliberty for an extra day? We came from Beyrout furnished witha Teshkeret (certificate of health) by the government, besides the voucherof our personal appearance, and yet we were condemned to a lengthenedimprisonment. But Mehemet Ali is far more mighty and despoticin Egypt than the Sultan in Constantinople; he commands, and what canwe do but obey, and submit to his superior power?

From the deck of our ship I obtained a view of the city and the desertregion around. The town seems tolerably spacious, and is builtquite in European style.

Of the Turkish town, which lies in the background, we can distinguishnothing; the proper harbour, situate at the opposite side of the city,is also invisible, and its situation can only be discerned from theforest of masts that towers upwards. The eye is principally caughtby two high sand-hills, on one of which stands Fort Napoleon, whilethe other is only surmounted by several cannon; the foreground is occupiedby rocky ridges of moderate elevation, flanked on one side by the lighthouse,and on the other by the new quarantine buildings. The old quarantine-houselies opposite to the new one. In several places we notice littleplantations of date-palms, which make a very agreeable impression onthe European, as their appearance is quite new to him.

August 8th.

At seven o’clock this morning we disembarked, and were deliveredwith bag and baggage at the quarantine-house. I now trod a newquarter of the globe, Africa. When I sit calmly down to thinkof the past, I frequently wonder how it was that my courage and perseverancenever once left me while I followed out my project step by step.This only serves to convince me that, if the resolution be firm, thingscan be achieved which would appear almost impossible.

I had expected to find neither comfort nor pleasure in the quarantine-house,and unfortunately I had judged but too well. The courtyard intowhich we were shewn was closely locked, and furnished on all sides withwooden bars; the rooms displayed only four bare walls, with windowsguarded in the same manner. It is customary to quarter severalpersons in the same room, and then each pays a share of the expense.I requested a separate apartment, which one can also have, but of courseat a higher charge. Such a thing as a chair, a table, or a pieceof furniture, was quite out of the question; whoever wishes to enjoysuch a luxury must apply by letter to an innkeeper of the town, wholends any thing of the kind, but at an enormously high rate. Dietmust be obtained in the same way. In the quarantine establishmentthere is no host, every thing must be procured from without. Aninnkeeper generally demands between thirty and forty piastres per diemfor dinner and supper. This I considered a little too exorbitant,and therefore ordered a few articles of food through one of the keepers.He promised to provide every thing punctually; but I fear he cannothave understood me, for I waited in vain, and during the whole of thefirst day had nothing to eat. On the second day my appetite wasquite ravenous, and I did not know what to do. I betook myselfto the room of the Arab family who had come in the same ship with me,and were therefore also in quarantine; I asked for a piece of bread,for which I offered to pay but the kind woman not only gave me bread,but pressed upon me a share of all the provisions she was preparingfor her family, and would not be prevailed upon to accept any remuneration;on the contrary, she explained to me by signs that I was to come toher whenever I wanted any thing.

It was not until the evening of the second day that, perceiving itwas hopeless to expect any thing from my stupid messenger, I appliedto the chief superintendent of the hospital, who came every eveningat sunset to examine us and to lock us in our rooms. I orderedmy provisions of him, and from this time forward always received themin proper time.

The keepers were all Arabs, and not one of them could understandor speak any language but their own; this is also a truly Egyptian arrangement.I think that in an establishment of this kind, where travellers fromall parts of the world are assembled, it would at least be advisableto have a person who understands Italian, even if he cannot speak it.An individual of this kind could easily be obtained; for Italian, asI afterwards found, is such a well-known language throughout the East,but particularly at Alexandria and Cairo, that many people are to bemet with, even among the lowest classes, who understand and can speakit.

The supply of water is also very badly managed. Every morning,immediately after sunrise, a few skins of water are brought for thepurpose of cleaning the cooking utensils; at nine o’clock in themorning and five in the afternoon a few camels come laden with skinsof fresh water, which are emptied into two stone tanks in the courtyard.Then all fill their cooking and drinking vessels, but in such an untidyway that I felt not the slightest inclination to drink. One manwas ladling out the water with a dirty pot, while another dabbled inthe tank with his filthy hands; and some even put their dirty feet onthe run and washed them, so that some of the water ran back into thetank. This receptacle is moreover never cleaned, so that dirtaccumulates upon dirt, and the only way to obtain clear water is byfiltering it.

On the second day of my residence here I was exceedingly surprisedto observe that the courtyard, the staircases, the rooms, etc. werebeing cleaned and swept with particular care. The mystery wassoon solved; the commissioner appeared with a great stick, and pausedat the threshold of the door to see that the linen, clothes, etc. werehung up to air, the books opened, and the letters or papers suspendedby strings. No idea can be formed of the stupid nervous fear ofthis commissioner. For instance, on passing through the firstroom on his way to my apartment, he saw the stalk of a bunch of grapeslying on the ground. With fearful haste he thrust this triflingobject aside with his stick, for fear his foot should strike againstit in passing; and as he went he continually held his stick in rest,to keep us plague-struck people at a respectful distance.

On the seventh day of our incarceration we were all sent to our roomsat nine o’clock in the morning. Doors and windows were thenlocked, and great chafing-dishes were brought, and a dreadful odourof brimstone, herbs, burnt feathers, and other ingredients filled theair. After we had been compelled to endure this stifling atmospherefor four or five minutes, the windows and doors were once more opened.A person of a consumptive habit could scarcely have survived this inhumanordeal.

On the ninth day the men were drawn up in a row, to undergo an examinationby the doctor. The old gentleman entered the room, with a spy-glassin one hand and a stick in the other, to review the troop. Everyman had to strike himself a blow on the chest and another in the side;if he could do this without feeling pain, it was considered a sign ofhealth, because the plague-spots appear first on these parts of thebody. On the same day, the women were led into a large room, wherea great female dragoon was waiting for us to put us through a similarceremony. Neither men nor women are, however, required to undress.

A few hours later we were summoned to the iron grating which separatedus from the disinfected people. On the farther side were seatedseveral officers, to whom we paid the fee for our rooms and the keepers—thecharge was very trifling. My room, with attendance, only costme three piastres per diem. But how gladly would every travellerpay a higher price if he could only have a table and a few chairs inhis apartment, and an attendant who understood what was said to him!

So far as cleanliness is concerned, there is nothing to complainof; the rooms, the staircases and the courtyard were kept very neatly,and the latter was even profusely watered twice a day. We werenot at all annoyed by insects, and we were but little incommoded bythe heat. In the sun the temperature never exceeded 33°; andin the shade the greatest heat was 22° Reaumur.

August 17th.

At seven o’clock this morning our cage was at length opened.Now all the world rushed in; friends and relations of the voyagers,ambassadors from innkeepers, porters, and donkey-drivers, all were merryand joyous, for every one found a friend or an acquaintance, and I onlystood friendless and alone, for nobody hastened towards me or took aninterest in me; but the envoys of the innkeepers, the porters, and donkey-drivers,cruel generation that they were, quarrelled and hustled each other forthe possession of the solitary one.

I collected my baggage, mounted a donkey, and rode to “Colombier,”one of the best inns in Alexandria. Swerving a little from thedirect road, I passed “Cleopatra’s Needles,” two obelisksof granite, one of which is still erect, while the other lies prostratein the sand at a short distance. We rode through a miserable poverty-strickenvillage; the huts were built of stones, but were so small and low thatwe can hardly understand how a man can stand upright in them.The doors were so low that we had to stoop considerably in entering.I could not discover any signs of windows. And this wretched villagelay within the bounds of the city, and even within the walls, whichinclose such an immense space, that they not only comprise Alexandriaitself, but several small villages, besides numerous country-housesand a few shrubberies and cemeteries.

In this village I saw many women with yellowish-brown countenances.They looked wretched and dirty, and were all clothed in long blue garments,sitting before their doors at work, or nursing children. Thesewomen were employed in basket-making and in picking corn. I didnot notice any men; they were probably employed in the fields.

I now rode forward across the sandy plain on which the whole of Alexandriais built, and suddenly, without having passed through any street, foundmyself in the great square.

I can scarcely describe the astonishment I felt at the scene beforeme. Every where I saw large beautiful houses, with lofty gates,regular windows, and balconies, like European dwellings; equipages,as graceful and beautiful as any that can be found in the great citiesof Europe, rolled to and fro amid a busy crowd of men of various nations.Franks, in the costume of their country, were distinguished among theturbans and fez-caps of the Orientals; and tall women, in their bluegowns, wandered amidst the half-naked forms of the Arabs and Bedouins.Here a negro was running with argilé behind his master, who trottedalong on his noble horse; there Frankish or Egyptian ladies were tobe seen mounted on asses. Coming from the dreary monotony of thequarantine-house, this sight made a peculiar impression upon me.

Scarcely had I arrived at the hotel before I hastened to the Austrianconsulate, where Herr von L., the government councillor, received mevery kindly. I begged this gentleman to let me know what wouldbe the first opportunity for me to continue my journey to Cairo; I didnot wish to take passage on board an English steamboat, as the chargeon this vessel for the short distance of about 400 sea miles is fivepounds. The councillor was polite enough to procure me a berthon board an Arabian barque, which was to start from Atfé thesame evening.

I also learnt at the consulate, that Herr Sattler, the painter, hadarrived by the packet-boat a few days previously, and was now at theold quarantine-house. I rode out in company with a gentleman tovisit him, and was glad to find him looking very well. He wasjust returning from his journey to Palestine.

I found the arrangements in the old quarantine-building rather morecomfortable than those in the new; the establishment is moreover nearerthe town, so that it is easier to obtain the necessaries of life.On my return, my companion was so kind as to conduct me through thegreater portion of the Turkish town, which appeared to be better builtand more neatly kept than any city of the Turks I had yet seen.The bazaar is not handsome; it consists of wooden booths, displayingonly the most ordinary articles of merchandise.

On the same day that I quitted the quarantine-house, I rode in theevening to the Nile Canal, which is twenty-four feet broad and abouttwenty-six miles long. A number of vessels lay there, on one ofwhich a place had been taken for me (the smaller division of the cabin)as far as Atfé, for the sum of fifteen piastres. I at oncetook possession of my berth, made my arrangements for the night andfor the following day, and waited hour after hour till we should depart.Late in the night I was at length told that we could not set out to-nightat all. To pack up my things again, and to set off to walk tothe inn, a distance of two miles, and to return next morning, wouldhave been a rather laborious proceeding; I therefore resolved to remainon board, and sat down among the Arabs and Bedouins to eat my frugalsupper, which consisted of cold provisions.

Next day I was told every half-hour that we should depart immediately,and each time I was again disappointed.

Herr von L. had wished to supply me with wine and provisions forthe passage; but as I had calculated upon being in Atfé to-dayat noon, I had declined his offer with many thanks. But now Ihad no provisions; I could not venture into the town on account of thedistance, and found it quite impossible to make the sailors understandthat they were to bring me some bread and baked fish from the neighbouringbazaar. At length hunger compelled me to venture out alone: Ipushed through the crowd, who looked at me curiously, but suffered meto pass unmolested, and bought some provisions.

In Alexandria I procured beef and beef-soup, for the first time sincemy departure from Smyrna. In Alexandria and throughout the wholeof Egypt the white bread is very delicious.

At four in the afternoon we at length set sail. The time hadpassed rapidly enough with me, for there was a great deal of bustlearound this canal. Barques came and departed, took in or dischargedcargo; long processions of camels moved to and fro with their driversto fetch and carry goods; the soldiers passed by, to the sound of militarymusic, to exercise in the neighbouring square; there was continuallysomething new to see, so that when four o’clock arrived, I couldnot imagine what had become of the time.

With the exception of the crew, I was the only person on board.These vessels are long and narrow, and are fitted up with a cabin andan awning. The cabin is divided into two little rooms; the firstand larger of these contains two little windows on each side.The second and smaller one is often only six feet long by five broad.The space under the awning is appropriated to the poorer class of passengersand to the servants. It is necessary to take on board, besidesprovisions, a little stove, wood for fuel, kitchen-utensils and articlesof this kind, a supply of water. The water of the Nile is, indeed,very good and thoroughly tasteless, so that it is universally drunkin Alexandria, Cairo, and elsewhere; but it is very turbid and of ayellowish colour, so that it must be filtered to render it clear andpure. Thus it happens that even on the river we are obliged totake water with us.

Handsome country-houses with gardens skirt the sides of the canal;the finest of these belongs to a pacha, the son-in-law of Mehemet Ali.As we passed this palace I saw the Egyptian Napoleon for the first time;he is a very little old man, with a long snow-white beard; his eyesand his gestures are very animated. Several Europeans stood aroundhim, and a number of servants, some of them clothed in Greek, othersin Turkish costume. In the avenue his carriage was waiting, asplendid double-seated vehicle, with four beautiful horses, harnessedin the English style. The Franks are favourably disposed towardsthis despot, whose subjects cherish a very opposite feeling. Hisgovernment is very lenient to Christians, while the Mussulmen are obligedto bend their necks beneath a yoke of iron slavery.

This view of villas and gardens only lasts for two hours at the most.Afterwards we continue our journey to Atfé through a very uniformand unsatisfactory region of sandy hills and plains. On the rightwe pass the Mariotic Sea; and on both sides lie villages of a very wretchedappearance.

August 19th.

At eleven in the forenoon we reached Atfé, and had thereforetravelled about 180 sea-miles in sixteen hours. Atfé isa very small town, or rather a mere heap of stones.

The landing-places were always the scenes of my chief troubles.It was seldom that I could find a Frank, and was generally obliged toaddress several of the bystanders before I succeeded in finding onewho could speak Italian and give me the information I required.I requested to be taken at once to the Austrian consulate, where thisdifficulty was usually removed. This was also the case here.The consul immediately sent to inquire how I could best get to Cairo,and offered me a room in his house in the mean time. A ship wassoon found, for Atfé is a harbour of some importance. Thecanal joins the Nile at this place; and as larger vessels are used onthe stream itself, all goods are transhipped here, so that barques arecontinually starting for Alexandria and Cairo. In a few hoursI was obliged to re-embark, and had only time to provide myself withprovisions and a supply of water, and to partake of a sumptuous dinnerat the consul’s, whose hospitality was doubly grateful to me asI had fasted the previous day. The chief compartment of the cabinhad been engaged for me, at an expense of 100 piastres. On embarking,however, I found that this place had been so filled with goods, thathardly a vacant space remained for the poor occupant. I at oncehastened back to the consulate and complained of the captain, whereuponthe consul sent for that worthy and desired him to clear my cabin, andto refrain from annoying me during the voyage, if he wished to be paidon our arrival at Cairo. This command was strictly obeyed, anduntil we reached our destination I was left in undisturbed possessionof my berth. At two in the afternoon I once more set sail alonein the company of Arabs and Bedouins.

I would counsel any one who can only make this journey to Cairo oncein his lifetime to do it at the end of August or the beginning of September.A more lovely picture, and one more peculiar in its character, can scarcelybe imagined. In many places the plain is covered as far as theeye can trace by the Nile-sea (it can scarcely be called river in itsimmense expanse), and every where little islands are seen rising fromthe waters, covered with villages surrounded by date-palms, and othertrees, while in the background the high-masted boats, with their pyramidalsails, are gliding to and fro. Numbers of sheep, goats, and poultrycover the hills, and near the shore the heads of the dark-grey buffaloes,which are here found in large herds, peer forth from the water.These creatures are fond of immersing their bodies in the cool flood,where they stand gazing at the passing ships. Here and there littleplantations of twenty to thirty trees are seen, which appear, as theground is completely overflowed, to be growing out of the Nile.The water here is much more muddy and of a darker colour than in thecanal between Atfé and Alexandria. The sailors pour thiswater into great iron vessels, and leave it to settle and become clearer;this is, however, of little use, for it remains almost as muddy as theriver. Notwithstanding this circ*mstance, however, this Nile-wateris not at all prejudicial to health; on the contrary, the inhabitantsof the valley assert that they possess the best and wholesomest waterin the world. The Franks are accustomed, as I have already stated,to take filtered water with them. When the supply becomes exhausted,they have only to put a few kernels of apricots or almonds chopped smallinto a vessel of Nile-water to render it tolerably clear within thespace of five or six hours. I learnt this art from an Arab womanduring my voyage on the Nile.

The population of the region around the Nile must be very considerable,for the villages almost adjoin each other. The ground consistsevery where of sand, and only becomes fruitful through the mud whichthe Nile leaves behind after its inundation. Thus the luxuriantvegetation here only commences after the waters of the Nile have retired.

The villages cannot be called handsome, as the houses are mostlybuilt of earth and clay, or of bricks made of the Nile mud. Man,the “crown of creation,” does not appear to advantage here;the poverty, the want of cleanliness, and rude savage state of the people,cannot be witnessed without a feeling of painful emotion.

The dress of the women consists of the usual long blue garment, andthe men wear nothing but a shirt reaching to the knee. Some ofthe women veil their faces, but others do not.

I was astonished at the difference between the fine strongly-builtmen and the ugly disgusting women and neglected children. In generalthe latter present a most lamentable appearance, with faces coveredwith scabs and sores, on which a quantity of flies are continually settling.Frequently also they have inflamed eyes. In spite of the oppressiveheat, I remained nearly the whole day seated on the roof of my cabin,enjoying the landscape, and gazing at the moving panorama to my heart’scontent.

The company on board could be called good or bad; bad, because therewas not a soul present to whom I could impart my feelings and sentimentson the marvels of nature around me; good, because all, but particularlythe Arab women who occupied the little cabin in the forepart of thevessel, were very good-natured and attentive to me.

They wished me to accept a share of every thing they possessed, andgave me a portion of each of their dishes, which generally consistedeither of pilau, beans, or cucumbers, and which I did not find palatable;when they drank coffee in the morning, the first cup was always handedto me. In return I gave them some of my provisions, all of whichthey liked, excepting the coffee, which had milk in it. When welanded at a village, the inhabitants would inquire by signs if I wishedfor any thing. I wanted some milk, eggs, and bread, but did notknow how to ask for them in Arabic. I therefore had recourse todrawing; for instance, I made a portrait of a cow, gave an Arab womana bottle and some money, and made signs to her to milk her cow and tofill my bottle. In the same way I drew a hen, and some eggs besideher; pointed to the hen with a shake of my head, and then to the eggswith a nod, counting on the woman’s fingers how many she was tobring me. In this way I could always manage to get on, by limitingmy wants to such objects as I could represent by drawings.

When they brought me the milk, and I explained to the Arab womanby signs that, after she had finished cooking, I wished to have theuse of the fire to prepare my milk and eggs, she immediately took offher pot from the fire and compelled me, in spite of all remonstrances,to cook my dinner first. If I walked forward towards the prowto obtain a better view of the landscape, the best place was immediatelyvacated on my behalf; and, in short, they all behaved in such a courteousand obliging way, that these uncultivated people might have put to shamemany a civilised European. They certainly, however, requesteda few favours of me, which, I am ashamed to say, it cost me a greateffort to grant. For instance, the oldest among them begged permissionto sleep in my apartment, as they only possessed a small cabin, whileI had the larger one all to myself. Then they performed theirdevotions, even to the preliminary washing of face and feet, in my cabin:this I permitted, as I was more on deck than below. At first thesewomen called me Mary, imagining, probably, that every Christian ladymust bear the name of the Virgin. I told them my baptismal name,which they accurately remembered; they told me theirs in return, whichI very soon forgot. I mention this trifling circ*mstance, becauseI afterwards was frequently surprised at the retentive memory of thesepeople during my journey through the desert towards the Red Sea.

August 21st.

Although I felt solitary among all the voyagers on the barque, thesetwo days passed swiftly and agreeably away. The flatter the landgrew, the broader did the lordly river become. The villages increasedin size; and the huts, mostly resembling a sugar-loaf, with a numberof doves roosting on its apex, wore an appearance of greater comfort.Mosques and large country-houses presently appeared; and, in short,the nearer we approached towards Cairo, the more distinct became theseindications of affluence. The sand-hills appeared less frequently,though on the route between Atfé and Cairo I still saw five orsix large barren places which had quite the look of deserts. Oncethe wind blew directly towards us from one of these burning wastes withsuch an oppressive influence, that I could easily imagine how dreadfulthe hot winds (chamsir) must be, and I no longer wondered at the continualinstances of blindness among the poor inhabitants of these regions.The heat is unendurable, and the fine dust and heated particles of sandwhich are carried into the air by these winds cannot fail to cause inflammationof the eyes.

Little towers of masonry, on the tops of which telegraphs have beenfixed, are seen at intervals along the road between Alexandria and Cairo.

Our vessel was unfortunate enough to strike several times on sand-banks,besides getting entangled among the shallows—a circ*mstance offrequent occurrence during the time that the Nile is rising. Onthese occasions I could not sufficiently admire the strength, agility,and hard-working perseverance of our sailors, who were obliged to jumpoverboard and push off the ship with poles, and afterwards were repeatedlycompelled to drag it for half an hour together through shallow places.These people are also very expert at climbing. They could ascendwithout ratlines to the very tops of the slanting masts, andtake in or unloose the sails. I could not repress a shudder onseeing these poor creatures hanging betwixt earth and heaven, so farabove me that they appeared like dwarfs. They work with one hand,while they cling to the mast with the other. I do not think thata better, or a more active, agile, and temperate race of sailors existsthan these. Their fare consists of bread or ship-biscuit in themorning, with sometimes a raw cucumber, a piece of cheese, or a handfulof dates in addition. For dinner they have the same diet, andfor supper they have a dish of warm beans, or a kind of broth or pilau.Roast mutton is a rare delicacy with them, and their drink is nothingbut the Nile water.

During the period of the inundation, the river is twice as full ofvessels as at other times. When the river is swollen, the onlymethod of communication is by boats.

On the last day of this expedition a most beauteous spectacle awaitedme—the Delta! Here the mighty Nile, which irrigates thewhole country with the hundreds of canals cut from its banks throughevery region, divides itself into two principal branches, one of whichfalls into the sea at Rosetta, and the other at Damietta. If theseparate aims of the river could be compared to seas, how much moredoes its united vastness merit the appellation!

When I was thus carried away by the beauty and grandeur of nature,when I thus saw myself placed in the midst of new and interesting scenes,it would appear to me incredible how people can exist, possessing inabundance the gifts of riches, health, and leisure time, and yet withouta taste for travelling. The petty comforts of life and enjoymentsof luxury are indeed worth more in the eyes of some than the opportunityof contemplating the exalted beauties of nature or the monuments ofhistory, and of gaining information concerning the manners and customsof foreign nations. Although I was at times very badly situated,and had to encounter more hardships and disagreeables than fall to thelot of many a man, I would be thankful that I had had resolution givenme to continue my wanderings whenever one of these grand spectaclesopened itself before me. What, indeed, are the entertainmentsof a large town compared to the Delta of the Nile, and many similarscenes? The pure and perfect enjoyment afforded by the contemplationof the beauty of nature is not for a moment to be found in the ball-roomor the theatre; and all the ease and luxury in the world should notbuy from me my recollections of this journey.

Not far from the Delta we can behold the Libyan Desert, of whichwe afterwards never entirely lose sight, though we sometimes approachand sometimes recede from it. I became conscious of certain darkobjects in the far distance; they developed themselves more and more,and at length I recognised in them the wonder-buildings of ancient times,the Pyramids; far behind them rises the chain of mountains, or ratherhills, of Mokattam.

Evening was closing in when we at length arrived at Bulak, the harbourof Cairo. If we could have landed at once, I might, perhaps, havereached the town itself this evening; as the harbour is, however, alwaysover-crowded with vessels, the captain is often compelled to wait foran hour before he can find a place to moor his craft. By the timeI could disembark it had already grown quite dark, and the town-gateswere shut. I was thus obliged to pass the night on board.

The journey from Atfé to Cairo had occupied two days and ahalf. This passage had been one of the most interesting, althoughthe heat became more and more oppressive, and the burning winds of thedesert were sometimes wafted over to us. The highest temperatureat midday was 36°, and in the shade from 24° to 25° Reaumur.The sky was far less beautiful and clear than in Syria; it was herefrequently overcast with white clouds.

CHAPTER XV.

Cairo—Quarrel with the captain—Rapacity of the beggars—Thecustom-house—The consulate—Aspect of Cairo—Narrowand crowded streets—Costumes—The mad-house—Disgustingexhibition—Joseph’s well—Palace of Mehemet Ali—Dates—Mosquesat Cairo—Excursion to the pyramids of Gizeh—Gizeh—Eggshatched by artificial heat—Ascent of the pyramids—The sphynx—Returnto Cairo.

August 22d.

The aspect of this great Egyptian metropolis is not nearly so imposingas I had fancied it to be; its situation is too flat, and from on boardwe can only discern scattered portions of its extended area. Thegardens skirting the shore are luxuriant and lovely.

At my debarcation, and on the road to the consulate, I met with severaladventures, which I relate circ*mstantially, trifling as they may appear,in order to give a hint as to the best method of dealing with the peoplehere.

At the very commencement I became involved in a dispute with thecaptain of the vessel. I had still to pay him three dollars anda half, and gave him four dollars, in the expectation that he wouldreturn me my change. This, however, he refused to do, and persistedin keeping the half-dollar. He said it should be divided as backsheeshamong the crew; but I am sure they would have seen nothing of it.Luckily, however, he was stupid enough not to put the money in his pocket,but kept it open in his hand. I quickly snatched a coin from him,and put it into my pocket, explaining to him at the same time that heshould not have it back until he had given me my change, adding thatI would give the men a gratuity myself. He shouted and stormed,and kept on asking for the money. I took no heed of him, but continuedquietly packing up my things. Seeing, at length, that nothingwas to be done with me, he gave me back my half-dollar; whereupon weparted good friends. This affair concluded, I had to look aboutfor a couple of asses; one for myself, and another for my luggage.If I had stepped ashore I should have been almost torn in pieces bycontending donkey-drivers, each of whom would have lugged me in a differentdirection. I therefore remained quietly for a time in my cabin,until the drivers ceased to suspect that any one was there. Inthe meantime I had been looking upon the shore from the cabin-window,and speculating upon which animal I should take; then I quickly rushedout, and before the proprietors of the long-eared steeds were awareof my intention, I had seized one by the bridle and pointed to another.This concluded the matter at once; for the proprietors of the chosenanimals defended me from the rest, and returned with me to the boatto carry my baggage.

A fellow came up and arranged my little trunk on the back of theass. For this trifling service I gave him a piastre; but observingthat I was alone, he probably thought he could soon intimidate me intogiving whatever he demanded. So he returned me my piastre, anddemanded four. I took the money, and told him (for fortunatelyhe understood a little Italian) that if he felt dissatisfied with thisreward he might accompany me to the consulate, where his four piastreswould be paid so soon as it appeared that he had earned them.He shouted and blustered, just as the captain had done; but I remaineddeaf, and rode forward towards the custom-house. Then he camedown to three piastres, then to two, and finally said he would be contentwith one, which I threw to him. When I reached the custom-house,hands were stretched out towards me from all sides; I gave somethingto the chief person, and let the remaining ones clamour on. When,after experiencing these various annoyances, I rode on towards the town,a new obstacle arose. My Arab guide inquired whither he shouldconduct me. I endeavoured in vain to explain to him where I wantedto go; he could not be made to understand me. Nothing now remainedfor me but to accost every well-dressed Oriental whom I met, until Ishould find one who could understand either French or Italian.The third person I addressed fortunately knew something of the latterlanguage, and I begged him to tell my guide to take me to the Austrianconsulate. This was done, and my troubles concluded.

A ride of three quarters of an hour in a very broad handsome street,planted with a double row of a kind of acacia altogether strange tome, among a crowd of men, camels, asses, etc., brought me to the town,the streets of which are in general narrow. There is so much noiseand crowding every where, that one would suppose a tumult had brokenout. But as I approached, the immense mass always opened as ifby magic, and I pursued my way without hindrance to the consulate, whichlies hidden in a little narrow blind alley.

I went immediately to the office, and presented myself to the consul,with the request that he would recommend me a respectable inn of thesecond class. Herr Chamgion, the consul, interested himself forme with heartfelt kindness; he immediately despatched a kavasse to aninnkeeper whom he knew, paid my guide, and recommended the host stronglyto take good care of me; in short, he behaved towards me with true Christiankindliness. His house was ever open to me, and I could go to himwith any petition I wished to make. It is a real pleasure to meto be able publicly once more to thank this worthy man.

I had been furnished with a letter of recommendation to a certainHerr Palm. The consul kindly sent at once for this gentleman,who soon appeared, and accompanied me to the inn.

I requested Herr P. to recommend me a servant who could either speakItalian or French, and afterwards to tell me the best method to setabout seeing the lions of the town. Herr P. very willingly undertookto do so; and after the lapse of an hour, the dragoman had already beenfound, and two asses stood before the door to carry me and my servantthrough the whole town.

The animated bustle and hum of business in the streets of Cairo isvery great. I can even say that in the most populous cities ofItaly I never saw any thing I could compare to it; and certainly thisis a bold assertion.

Many of the streets are so narrow, that when loaded camels meet,one party must always be led into a by-street until the other has passed.In these narrow lanes I continually encountered crowds of passengers,so that I really felt quite anxious, and wondered how I should findmy way through. People mounted on horses and donkeys tower abovethe moving mass; but the asses themselves appear like pigmies besidethe high, lofty-looking camels, which do not lose their proud demeanoureven under their heavy burdens. Men often slip by under the headsof the camels. The riders keep as close as possible to the houses,and the mass of pedestrians winds dexterously between. There arewater-carriers, vendors of goods, numerous blind men groping their waywith sticks, and bearing baskets with fruit, bread, and other provisionsfor sale; numerous children, some of them running about the streets,and others playing before the house-doors; and lastly, the Egyptianladies, who ride on asses to pay their visits, and come in long processionswith their children and negro servants. Let the reader furtherimagine the cries of the vendors, the shouting of the drivers and passengers,the terrified screams of flying women and children, the quarrels whichfrequently arise, and the peculiar noisiness and talkativeness of thesepeople, and he can fancy what an effect this must have on the nervesof a stranger. I was in mortal fear at every step, and on reachinghome in the evening felt quite unwell; but as I never once saw an accidentoccur, I at length accustomed myself to the hubbub, and could followmy guide where the crowd was thickest without feeling uneasy.

The streets, or, as they may be more properly called, the lanes ofCairo, are sprinkled with water several times in the day; fountainsand large vessels of water are also placed every where for the convenienceof the passers-by. In the broad streets straw-mats are hung upto keep off the sun’s rays.

The richer class of people wear the Oriental garb, with the exceptionthat the women merely have their heads and faces wrapped in a lightmuslin veil; they wear also a kind of mantilla of black silk, whichgives them a peculiar appearance. When they came riding along,and the wind caught this garment and spread it out, they looked exactlylike bats with outstretched wings.

Many of the Franks also dress in the Oriental style; the Fellahsgo almost naked, and their women only wear a single blue garment.

Here, as throughout all the East, the rich people are always seenon horseback. I was not so much pleased with the Egyptian as withthe Syrian horses, for the former appeared to me less slim and gracefullybuilt.

The population of Cairo is estimated at 200,000, and is a mixed one,consisting of Arabs, Mamelukes, Turks, Berbers, Negroes, Bedouins, Christians,Greeks, Jews, etc. Thanks to the powerful arm of Mehemet Ali,they all live peacefully together.

Cairo contains 25,000 houses, which are as unsightly and irregularas the streets. They are built of clay, unburnt bricks, and stones,and have little narrow entrances; the unsymmetrical windows are furnishedwith wooden shutters impenetrable to the eye. The interiors aredecorated like the houses in Damascus, but in a less costly style; neitheris there such an abundance of fresh water at Cairo.

The Jews’ quarter is the most hideous of all; the houses aredirty, and the streets so narrow that two persons can only just pushby each other. The entire town is surrounded by walls and towers,guarded by a castle, and divided into several quarters, separated fromeach other by gates, which are closed after sunset. On the heightsaround Cairo are to be seen some castles from the time of the Saracens.

As I rode to and fro in the town, my guide suddenly stopped, boughta quantity of bread, and motioned me to follow him. I thoughthe was going to take me to a menagerie, and that this bread was intendedfor the wild animals. We entered a courtyard with windows allround reaching to the ground, and strengthened with iron bars.Stopping before the first window, my servant threw in a piece of bread;what was my horror when I saw, instead of a lion or tiger, a naked emaciatedold man rush forth, seize the bread, and devour it ravenously.I was in the mad-house. In the midst of each dark and filthy dungeonis fixed a stone, with two iron chains, to which one or two of thesewretched creatures are attached by an iron ring fastened round the neck.There they sit staring with fearfully distorted faces, their hair andbeard unkempt, their bodies emaciated, and the marrow of life dryingup within them. In these foul and loathsome dens they must pineuntil the Almighty in his mercy loosens the chains which bind them totheir miserable existence by a welcome death. There is not oneinstance of a cure, and truly the treatment to which they are subjectedis calculated to drive a half-witted person quite mad. And yetthe Europeans can praise Mehemet Ali! Ye wretched madmen, ye poorfellahs, are ye too ready to join in this praise?

Quitting this abode of misery, my dragoman led me to “Joseph’swell,” which is deeply hewn out of the rock. I descendedmore than two hundred and seventy steps, and had got half-way to thebottom of the gigantic structure. On looking downward into itsdepths a feeling of giddiness came over me.

The new palace of Mehemet Ali is rather a handsome building, arrangedchiefly in the European style. The rooms, or rather the halls,are very lofty, and are either tastefully painted or hung with silk,tapestry, etc. Large pier-glasses multiply the objects around,rich divans are attached to the walls, and costly tables, some of marble,others of inlaid work, enriched with beautiful paintings, stand in therooms, in one of which I even noticed a billiard-table. The dining-hallis quite European in its character. In the centre stands a largetable; two sideboards are placed against one side of the wall, and handsomechairs stand opposite. In one of the rooms hangs an oil-paintingrepresenting Ibrahim Pasha, {236}Mehemet Ali’s son.

This palace stands in the midst of a little garden, neither remarkablefor the rarity of the plants it contains, nor for the beauty of theirarrangement. The views from some of the apartments, as well asthat from the garden, are very lovely.

Opposite the palace a great mosque is being built as a mausoleumfor Mehemet Ali. The despot probably reckons on having some yearsyet to live, for much remains to be done before the beautiful structureis completed. The pillars and the walls of the mosque are coveredwith the most splendid marble, of a yellowish-white colour.

The before-mentioned buildings, namely, Joseph’s well, thepalace and gardens, and the mosque, are all situate on a high rock,to which a single broad road leads from Cairo. Here we beholda threefold sea, namely, of houses, of the Nile, and a sea of sand,on which the lofty Pyramids rise in the distance like isolated rocks.The mountains of Mokattam close the background, and a number of lovelygardens and plantations of date-palms surround the town. Withone glance we can behold the most striking contrasts. A wreathof the most luxurious vegetation runs round the town, and beyond liesthe dreary monotony of the desert. The colour of the Nile is soexactly similar to that of the sand forming its shores, that at a distancethe line of demarcation cannot be traced.

On my way homewards I met several fellahs carrying large basketsfull of dates, and stopped one of them, in order to purchase some ofthis celebrated fruit. Unfortunately for me, the dates were stillunripe, hard, of a brick-red colour, and so unpalatable that I couldnot eat one of them. A week or ten days afterwards I was ableto procure some ripe ones; they were of a brown colour like the driedfruit, the tender skin could easily be peeled off, and I liked thembetter than dried dates, because they were more pulpy and not so sweet.A much more precious fruit, the finest production of Egypt and Syria,almost superior to the pine-apple in taste, is the banana, which isso delicate that it almost melts in the mouth. This fruit cannotbe dried, and is therefore never exported. Sugar melons and peachesare to be had in abundance, but their flavour is not very good.I also preferred the Alexandrian grape to that of Cairo.

The bazaars, through which we rode in all directions, displayed nothingvery remarkable in manufactures or in productions of nature and art.

From first to last I spent a week at Cairo, and occupied the wholeof my time from morning till night in viewing the curiosities of thetown.

I only saw two mosques, that of Sultan Hassan and of Sultan Amru.Before I was permitted to enter the first of these edifices, they compelledme to take off my shoes, and walk in my stockings over a courtyard pavedwith great stones. The stones had become so heated by the solarrays, that I was obliged to run fast, to avoid scorching the soles ofmy feet. I cannot give an opinion touching the architectural beautyof this building, which is built in such a simple style that none buta connoisseur would discover its merits. I was better pleasedwith the mosque of Sultan Amru, which contains several halls, and issupported on numerous columns. The mosques in Cairo struck meas having a more ancient and venerable appearance than those of Constantinople,while the latter, on the other hand, were larger and more elegant.

I also visited the island of Rodda, which is worthy the name of abeautiful garden. It lies opposite to old Cairo, on the Nile,and is said to be a favourite walk of the townspeople, though I wasthere twice without meeting any one. The garden is spacious, andcontains all kinds of tropical productions: here I saw the sugar-cane,which greatly resembles the stem of the Indian maize; the cotton-tree,growing to a height of five or six feet; the banana-tree, the short-stemmeddate-palm, the coffee-tree, and many others. Flowers were alsothere in quantities which must be cultivated with great care in thehot-houses of my native country. The whole of this collectionof plants is very tastefully arranged, and shines forth in the heightof luxuriant beauty. It is customary to lay the entire islandunder water every evening by means of artificial canals. Thissystem is universally carried out throughout the Egyptian plantations,and is, in fact, the only method by which vegetation can be preservedin its freshest green in spite of the burning heat. The care ofthis fairy grove is entrusted to a German ornamental gardener; unfortunatelyI was informed of this fact too late, otherwise I should have visitedmy countryman and requested an explanation of many things which appearedstrange to me.

In the midst of the garden is a beautiful grotto, ornamented withinand without by a great variety of shells from the Red Sea, which giveit a most striking appearance. At this spot, towards which manypaths lead, all strewed with minute shells instead of gravel, Mosesis said to have been found in his cradle of bulrushes(?). Immediatelyadjoining the garden we find a summer residence belonging to MehemetAli.

The well shewn as that into which Joseph was thrust by his brethrenlies about two miles distant from the town, in a village on the roadto Suez. Half a mile off a very large and venerable sycamore-treewas pointed out to me as the one in the shade of which the holy familyrested on their way to Egypt; and a walk of another quarter of a milebrings us to the garden of Boghos Bey, in the midst of which standsone of the finest and largest obelisks of Upper Egypt: it is still ingood condition, and completely covered with hieroglyphics. Thegarden, however, offers nothing remarkable. The ancient city ofHeliopolis is said to have been built not far off; but at the presentday not a vestige of it remains.

The road to this garden already lies partly in the desert.At first the way winds through avenues of trees and past gardens; butsoon the vast desert extends to the right, while beautiful orange andcitron groves still skirt the left side of the path. Here we continuallymeet herds of camels, but a dromedary is a rare sight.

EXCURSION TO THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.August 25th, 1842.

At four in the afternoon I quitted Cairo, crossed two arms of theNile, and a couple of hours afterwards arrived safely at Gizeh.As the Nile had overflowed several parts of the country, we were compelledfrequently to turn out of our way, and sometimes to cross canals andride through water; now and then, where it was too deep for our asses,we were obliged to be carried across. As there is no inn at GizehI betook myself to Herr Klinger, to whom I brought a letter of recommendationfrom Cairo. Herr K. is a Bohemian by birth, and stands in theservice of the viceroy of Egypt, as musical instructor to the youngmilitary band. I was made very welcome here, and Herr Klingerseemed quite rejoiced at seeing a visitor with whom he could talk inGerman. Our conversation was of Beethoven and Mozart, of Straussand Lanne. The fame of the bravura composers of the present day,Liszt and Thalberg, had not yet penetrated to these regions. Irequested my kind host to shew me the establishment for hatching eggsthat exists at Gizeh. He immediately sent for the superintendent,who happened however to be absent, and to have locked up the keys.In this place about 8000 eggs are hatched by artificial warmth duringthe months of March and April. The eggs are laid on large flatplates, which are continually kept at an equal temperature by heat appliedbelow the surface: they are turned several times during the day.As the thousands of little chickens burst their shells, they are sold,not by number or weight, but by the measure. This egg-hatchinghouse has the effect of rendering poultry plentiful and cheap.

After chatting away the evening very pleasantly I sought my couch,tired with my ride and with the heat, and rejoicing at the sight ofthe soft divan, which seemed to smile upon me, and promise rest andstrength for the following day. But as I was about to take possessionof my couch, I noticed on the wall a great number of black spots.I took the candle to examine what it could be, and nearly dropped thelight with horror on discovering that the wall was covered with bugs.I had never seen such a disgusting sight. All hopes of rest onthe divan were now effectually put to flight. I sat down on achair, and waited until every thing was perfectly still; then I slippedinto the entrance-hall, and lay down on the stones, wrapped in my cloak.

Though I had escaped from one description of vermin, I became a preyto innumerable gnats. I had passed many uncomfortable nights duringmy journey, but this was worse than any thing I had yet endured.

However, this was only an additional inducement for rising early,and long before sunrise I was ready to continue my journey. Beforedaybreak I took leave of my kind host, and rode with my servant towardsthe gigantic structures. To-day we were again obliged frequentlyto go out of our route on account of the rising of the Nile; owing tothis delay, two hours elapsed before we reached the broad arm of theNile, dividing us from the Libyan desert, on which the Pyramids stand,and over which two Arabs carried me. This was one of the mostdisagreeable things that can be imagined. Two large powerful menstood side by side; I mounted on their shoulders, and held fast by theirheads, while they supported my feet in a horizontal position above thewaters, which at some places reached almost to their armpits, so thatI feared every moment that I should sit in the water. Besidesthis, my supporters continually swayed to and fro, because they couldonly withstand the force of the current by a great exertion of strength,and I was apprehensive of falling off. This disagreeable passagelasted above a quarter of an hour. After wading for another fifteenminutes through deep sand, we arrived at the goal of our little journey.

The two colossal pyramids are of course visible directly we quitthe town, and we keep them almost continually in sight. But herethe expectations I had cherished were again disappointed, for the aspectof these giant structures did not astonish me greatly. Their heightappears less remarkable than it otherwise would, from the circ*mstancethat their base is buried in sand, and thus hidden from view.There is also neither a tree nor a hut, nor any other object which couldserve to display their huge proportions by the force of contrast.

As it was still early in the day and not very hot, I preferred ascendingthe pyramid before venturing into its interior. My servant tookoff my rings and concealed them carefully, telling me that this wasa very necessary precaution, as the fellows who take the travellersby the hands to assist them in mounting the pyramids have such a dexterousknack of drawing the rings from their fingers, that they seldom perceivetheir loss until too late.

I took two Arabs with me, who gave me their hands, and pulled meup the very large stones. Any one who is at all subject to dizzinesswould do very wrong in attempting this feat, for he might be lost withoutremedy. Let the reader picture to himself a height of 500 feet,without a railing or a regular staircase by which to make the ascent.At one angle only the immense blocks of stone have been hewn in sucha manner that they form a flight of steps, but a very inconvenient one,as many of these stone blocks are above four feet in height, and offerno projection on which you can place your foot in mounting. Thetwo Arabs ascended first, and then stretched out their hands to pullme from one block to another. I preferred climbing over the smallerblocks without assistance. In three quarters of an hour’stime I had gained the summit of the pyramid.

For a long time I stood lost in thought, and could hardly realisethe fact that I was really one of the favoured few who are happy enoughto be able to contemplate the most stupendous and imperishable monumentever erected by human hands. At the first moment I was scarcelyable to gaze down from the dizzy height into the deep distance; I couldonly examine the pyramid itself, and seek to familiarise myself withthe idea that I was not dreaming. Gradually, however, I came tomyself, and contemplated the landscape which lay extended beneath me.From my elevated position I could form a better estimate of the giganticstructure, for here the fact that the base was buried in sand did notprejudice the general effect. I saw the Nile flowing far beneathme, and a few Bedouins, whom curiosity had attracted to the spot, lookedlike very pigmies. In ascending I had seen the immense blocksof stone singly, and ceased to marvel that these monuments are reckonedamong the seven wonders of the world.

On the castle the view had been fine, but here, where the prospectwas bounded only by the horizon and by the Mokattam mountains, it isgrander by far. I could follow the windings of the river, withits innumerable arms and canals, until it melted into the far horizon,which closed the picture on this side. Many blooming gardens,and the large extensive town with its environs; the immense desert,with its plains and hills of sand, and the lengthened mountain-rangeof Mokattam,—all lay spread before me; and for a long time I satgazing around me, and wishing that the dear ones at home had been withme, to share in my wonder and delight.

But now the time came not only to look down, but to descend.Most people find this even more difficult than the ascent; but withme the contrary was the case. I never grow giddy, and so I advancedin the following manner, without the aid of the Arabs. On thesmaller blocks I sprang from one to the other; when a stone of threeor four feet in height was to be encountered, I let myself glide gentlydown; and I accomplished my descent with so much grace and agility,that I reached the base of the pyramid long before my servant.Even the Arabs expressed their pleasure at my fearlessness on this dangerouspassage.

After eating my breakfast and resting for a short time, I proceededto explore the interior. At first I was obliged to cross a heapof sand and rubbish; for we have to go downwards towards the entrance,which is so low and narrow that we cannot always stand upright.I could not have passed along the passage leading into the interiorif the Arabs had not helped me, for it is so steep and so smoothly pavedthat, in spite of my conductor’s assistance, I slid rather thanwalked. The apartment of the king is more spacious, and resemblesa small hall. On one side stands a little empty sarcophagus withouta lid. The walls of the chambers and of the passages are coveredwith large and beautifully polished slabs of granite and marble.The remaining passages, or rather dens, which are shown here, I didnot see. It may be very interesting for learned men and antiquariansthus to search every corner; but for a woman like myself, brought hitheronly by an insatiable desire to travel, and capable of judging of thebeauties of nature and art only by her own simple feelings, it was enoughto have ascended the pyramid of Cheops, and to have seen something ofits interior. This pyramid is said to be the loftiest of all.It stands on a rock 150 feet in height, which is invisible, being altogetherburied in sand. The height of the vast structure is above 500feet. It was erected by Cheops more than 3000 years ago, and 100,000men are said to have been employed in its construction for twenty-sixyears. It is a most interesting structure, built of immense massesof rock, fixed together with a great deal of art, and seemingly calculatedto last an eternity. They look so strong and so well preserved,that many travellers will no doubt repair hither in coming generations,and continue the researches commenced long ago.

The Sphynx, a statue of most colossal dimensions, situate at no greatdistance from the great pyramid, is so covered with sand that only thehead and a small portion of the bust remain visible. The headalone is twenty-two feet in height.

After walking about and inspecting every thing, I commenced my journeyback. On the way I once more visited Herr Klinger, strengthenedmyself with a hearty meal, and arrived safely at Cairo late in the evening.Here I wished to take my little purse out of my pocket, and found thatit was gone. Luckily I had only taken one collonato (Spanish dollar)with me. No one can imagine what dexterity the Bedouins and Arabspossess in the art of stealing. I always kept a sharp eye uponmy effects, and notwithstanding my vigilance several articles were pilferedfrom me, and my purse must also have been stolen during this excursion.The loss was very disagreeable to me because it involved that of mybox-key. I was, however, fortunate in finding an expert Arabianlocksmith, who opened my chest and made me a new key, on which occasionI had another opportunity of seeing how careful it is necessary to bein all our dealings with these people to avoid being cheated.The key locked and unlocked my box well, and I paid for it; but immediatelyafterwards observed that it was very slightly joined in the middle,and would presently break. The Arab’s tools still lay onthe ground; I immediately seized one of them, and told the man I wouldnot give it up until he had made me a new key. It was in vainthat he assured me he could not work without his tools; he would notgive my money back, and I kept the implement: by this means I obtainedfrom him a new and a good key.

CHAPTER XVI.

Christian churches at Cairo—The Esbekie-square—Theatre—Howlingdervishes—Mashdalansher, the birthday of Mahomet—Processionand religious ceremony—Shubra—Excursion through the desertto Suez—Hardships of the journey—Scenes in the desert—Thecamel—Caravans—Mirage—The Red Sea—Suez—Bedouincamp—Quarrel with the camel-driver—Departure for Alexandria.

I visited many Christian churches, the finest among which was theGreek one. On my way thither I saw many streets where there canhardly have been room for a horseman to pass. The road to theArmenian church leads through such narrow lanes and gates, that we werecompelled to leave our asses behind; there was hardly room for two peopleto pass each other.

On the other hand, I had nowhere seen a more spacious square thanthe Esbekie-place in Cairo. The square in Padua is perhaps theonly one that can compare with it in point of size; but this place lookslike a complete chaos. Miserable houses and ruined huts surroundit; and here and there we sometimes come upon a part of an alley oran unfinished canal. The centre is very uneven, and is filledwith building materials, such as stones, wood, bricks, and beams.The largest and handsomest house in this square is remarkable as havingbeen inhabited by Napoleon during his residence at Cairo: it is nowconverted into a splendid hotel.

Herr Chamgion, the consul, was kind enough to send me a card of invitationfor the theatre. The building looks like a private house, andcontains a gallery capable of accommodating three or four hundred people;this gallery is devoted to the use of the ladies. The performerswere all amateurs; they acted an Italian comedy in a very creditablemanner. The orchestra comprised only four musicians. Atthe conclusion of the second act the consul’s son, a boy of twelveyears, played some variations on the violin very prettily.

The women, all natives of the Levant, were very elegantly dressed;they wore the European garb, white muslin dresses with their hair beautifullybraided and ornamented with flowers. Nearly all the women andgirls were handsome, with complexions of a dazzling whiteness, whichwe rarely see equalled in Europe. The reason of this is, perhaps,that they always stay in their houses, and avoid exposing themselvesto the sun and wind.

The following day I visited the abode of the howling dervishes, inwhom I took a lively interest since I had seen their brethren at Constantinople.The hall, or rather the mosque, in which they perform their devotionsis very splendid. I was not allowed here to stand among the menas I had done at Constantinople, but was conducted to a raised gallery,from which I could look down through a grated window.

The style of devotion and excitement of these dervishes is like thatI had witnessed at Constantinople, without being quite so wild in itscharacter. Not one of them sank exhausted, and the screechingand howling were not so loud. Towards the end of their performancemany of the dervishes seized a small tambourine, on which they beatand produced a most diabolical music.

In the slave-market there was but a meagre selection; all the wareshad been bought, and a new cargo of these unfortunates was daily expected.I pretended that I wished to purchase a boy and a girl, in order togain admittance into the private department. Here I saw a coupleof negro girls of most uncommon beauty. I had not deemed it possibleto find any thing so perfect. Their skin was of a velvety black,and shone with a peculiar lustre. Their teeth were beautifullyformed and of dazzling whiteness, their eyes large and lustrous, andtheir lips thinner than we usually find them among these people.They wore their hair neatly parted, and arranged in pretty curls roundthe head. Poor creatures, who knows into what hands they mightfall! They bowed their heads in anguish, without uttering a syllable.The sight of the slave-market here inspired me with a feeling of deepmelancholy. The poor creatures did not seem so careless and merryas those whom I had seen on the market-place at Constantinople.In Cairo the slaves seemed badly kept; they lay in little tents, andwere driven out, when a purchaser appeared, very much in the mannerof cattle. They were only partially clothed in some old rags,and looked exhausted and unhappy.

During my short stay at Cairo one of the chief feasts of the Mahommedans—namely,the Mashdalansher, or birthday of the Prophet—occurred.This feast is celebrated on a great open space outside the town.A number of large tents are erected; they are open in front, and beneaththeir shelter all kinds of things are carried on. In one tent,Mahommedans are praying; in another, a party of dervishes throw themselveswith their faces to the ground and call upon Allah; while in a third,a juggler or storyteller may be driving his trade. In the midstof all stood a large tent, the entrance to which was concealed by curtains.Here the “bayaderes” were dancing; any one can obtain admissionby paying a trifling sum. Of course I went in to see these celebrateddancers. There were, however, only two pairs; two boys were elegantlyclothed in a female garb, richly decorated with gold coins. Theylooked very pretty and delicate, so that I really thought they weregirls. The dance itself is very monotonous, slow, and wearisome;it consists only of some steps to and fro, accompanied by some ratherindecorous movements of the upper part of the body. These gesturesare said to be very difficult, as the dancer must stand perfectly still,and only move the upper part of his person. The music consistedof a tambourine, a flageolet, and a bagpipe. Much has been writtenconcerning the indecency of these dances; but I am of opinion that manyof our ballets afford much greater cause of complaint. It may,however, be that other dances are performed of which the general publicare not allowed to be spectators; but I only speak of what is done openly.I would also by far prefer a popular festival in the East to a fairin our highly-civilised states. The Oriental feasts were to mea source of much enjoyment, for the people always behaved most decorously.They certainly shouted, and pushed, and elbowed each other like an Europeanmob; but no drunken men were to be seen, and it was very seldom thata serious quarrel occurred. The commonest man, too, would neverthink of offering an insult to one of the opposite sex. I shouldfeel no compunction in sending a young girl to this festival, thoughI should never think of letting her go to the fair held at Vienna onSt. Bridget’s day.

The people were assembled in vast numbers, and the crowd was verygreat, yet we could pass every where on our donkeys.

At about three o’clock my servant sought out an elevated placefor me, for the great spectacle was soon to come, and the crushing andbustle had already reached their highest pitch. At length a portlypriest could be descried riding along on a splendid horse; before himmarched eight or ten dervishes with flags flying, and behind him a numberof men, among whom were also many dervishes. In the midst of thesquare the procession halted; a few soldiers pushed their way amongthe people, whom they forced to stand back and leave a road. Wheneverthe spectators did not obey quickly, a stick was brought into action,which soon established order in a most satisfactory manner.

The procession now moved on once more, the standard-bearers and dervishesmaking all kinds of frantic gestures, as though they had just escapedfrom a madhouse. On reaching the place where the spectators formeda lane, the dervishes and several other men threw themselves down withtheir faces to the ground in a long row, with their heads side by side.And then—oh horror!—the priest rode over the backs of thesemiserable men as upon a bridge. Then they all sprang up againas though nothing had happened, and rejoined the advancing train withtheir former antics and grimaces. One man stayed behind, writhingto and fro as if his back had been broken, but in a few moments’time he went away as unconcernedly as his comrades. Each of theactors in this scene considers himself extremely fortunate in havingattained to such a distinction, and this feeling even extends to hisrelations and friends.

SHUBRA.

One afternoon I paid a visit to the beautiful garden and country-houseof the Viceroy of Egypt. A broad handsome street leads betweenalleys of sycamores, and the journey occupies about an hour and a half.Immediately upon my arrival I was conducted to an out-building, in theyard belonging to which a fine large elephant was to be shewn.I had already seen several of these creatures, but never such a finespecimen as this. Its bulk was truly marvellous; its body cleanand smooth, and of a dark-brown colour.

The park is most lovely; and the rarest plants are here seen flourishingin the open air, in the fulness of bloom and beauty, beside those weare accustomed to see every day. On the whole, however, I wasbetter pleased with the garden at Rodda. The palace, too, is veryfine. The ceilings of the rooms are lofty, and richly ornamentedwith gilding, paintings, and marble. The rooms appropriated tothe viceroy’s consort are no less magnificent; the ascent to themis by a broad staircase on each side. On the ground-floor is situatethe favourite apartment of the autocrat of Cairo, furnished in the styleof the reception-halls at Damascus. A fountain of excellent waterdiffuses a delicious coolness around. In the palace itself wefind several large cages for parrots and other beautiful birds.What pleased me most of all was, however, the incomparable kiosk, lyingin the garden at some distance from the palace. It is 130 paceslong and 100 broad, surrounded by arcades of glorious pillars.This kiosk contains in its interior a large and beautiful fountain;and at the four corners of the building are terraces, from which thewater falls in the form of little cataracts, afterwards uniting withthe fountain, and shooting upwards in the shape of a mighty pillar.All things around us, the pavilion and the pillars, the walls and thefountain, are alike covered with beautiful marble of a white or light-browncolour; the pavilion is even arranged so that it can be lighted withgas.

From this paradise of the living I rode to the abode of the dead,the celebrated “world of graves,” which is to be seen inthe desert. Here are to be found a number of ancient sepulchres,but most of them resemble ruins, and to find out their boasted beautyis a thing left to the imagination of every traveller. I onlyadmired the sepulchre of Mehemet Ali’s two sons, in which thebones of his wife also rest: this is a beautiful building of stone;five cupolas rise above the magnificent chambers where the sarcophagiare deposited.

The petrified date-wood lies about eight miles distant from Cairo;I rode out there, but did not find much to see, excepting here and theresome fragments of stems and a few petrifactions lying about. Itis said that the finest part of this “petrified wood” beginssome miles away; but I did not penetrate so far.

During my residence in Cairo the heat once reached 36° Reaumur,and yet I found it much more endurable than I had expected. Iwas not annoyed at all by insects or vermin; but I was obliged to becareful not to leave any provisions in my room throughout the night.An immense swarm of minute ants would seize upon every kind of eatable,particularly bread. One evening I left a roll upon the table,and the next morning found it half eaten away, and covered with antswithin and without. It is here an universal custom to place thefeet of the tables in little dishes filled with water, to keep off theseinsects.

EXCURSION TO SUEZ.

It had originally been my intention to stay at Cairo a week at thefurthest, and afterwards to return to Alexandria. But the moreI saw, the more my curiosity became excited, and I felt irresistiblyimpelled to proceed. I had now travelled in almost every way,but I had not yet tried an excursion on a camel. I therefore madeinquiry as to the distance, danger, and expense of a journey to Suezon the Red Sea. The distance was a thirty-six hours’ journey,the danger was said to be nil, and the expense they estimatedat about 250 piastres.

I therefore hired two strong camels, one for me, the other for myservant and the camel-driver, and took nothing with me in the way ofprovisions but bread, dates, a piece of roast meat, and hardboiled eggs.Skins of water were hung at each side of the camels, for we had to takea supply which would last us the journey and during our return.

If we ride every day for twelve hours, this journey occupies sixdays, there and back. But as I was unable to depart until theafternoon of the 26th, and was obliged to be in Alexandria at latestby the 30th, in order not to miss the steamer, I had only four daysand a half to accomplish it in. Thus this excursion was the mostfatiguing I had ever undertaken.

At four in the afternoon I rode through the town-gate, where thecamels were waiting for us; we mounted them and commenced our journey.

The desert begins at the town-gates, but for the first few mileswe have a sight of some very fruitful country on the left, until atlength we leave town and trees behind us, and with them all the verdure,and find ourselves surrounded on all sides by a sea of sand.

For the first four or five hours I was not ill-pleased with thismode of travelling. I had plenty of room on my camel, and couldsit farther back or forward as I chose, and had provisions and a bottleof water at my side. Besides this, the heat was not oppressive;I felt very comfortable, and could look down from my high throne almostwith a feeling of pride upon the passing caravans. Even the swayingmotion of the camel, which causes in some travellers a feeling of sicknessand nausea like that produced by a sea-voyage, did not affect me.But after a few hours I began to feel the fatigues and discomforts ofa journey of this kind. The swinging motion pained and fatiguedme, as I had no support against which I could lean. The desireto sleep also arose within me, and it can be imagined how uncomfortableI felt. But I was resolved to go to Suez; and if all my hardshipshad been far worse, I would not have turned back. I summoned allmy fortitude, and rode without halting for fifteen hours, from fourin the afternoon until seven the next morning.

During the night we passed several trains of camels, some in motion,some at rest, often consisting of more than a hundred. We werenot exposed to the least annoyance, although we had attached ourselvesto no caravan, but were pursuing our way alone.

From Cairo to Suez posts are established at every five or six hours’journey, and at each of these posts there stands a little house of tworooms for the convenience of travellers. These huts were builtby an English innkeeper established at Cairo; but they can only be usedby very rich people, as the prices charged are most exorbitant.Thus, for instance, a bed for one night costs a hundred piastres, alittle chicken twenty, and a bottle of water two piastres. Thegenerality of travellers encamp before the house, and I followed thesame plan, lying down for an hour in the sand while the camels ate theirscanty meal. My health and bodily strength are, I am happy tosay, so excellent, that I am ready after a very short rest to encounternew fatigues. After this hour of repose I once more mounted mycamel to continue my journey.

August 27th.

It may easily be imagined that the whole scene by which we are heresurrounded has over it an air of profound and deathlike stillness.The sea, where we behold nothing but water around us, presents moreof life to divert the mind. The very rushing and splash of thewheels, the bounding waves, the bustle of bending or reefing sails,and the crowding of people on the steamer, brings varied pictures totemper the monotony around. Even the ride through the stony desertswhich I had traversed in Syria has not so much sameness, for there weat least hear the tramp of the horse and the sound of many a rollingstone; the traveller’s attention is, besides, kept continuallyon the stretch in guiding each step that his horse takes, to avoid therisk of a fall. But all this is wanting in a journey through asandy desert. No bird hovers in the air, not a butterfly is hereto gladden the eye, not even an insect or a worm crawls on the ground;not a living creature is, in fact, to be seen, but the little vulturespreying on the carcasses of fallen camels. Even the tread of theheavy-footed camel is muffled by the deep sand, and nothing is everheard but the moaning of these poor animals when their driver forcesthem to lie down to take off their burden; most probably the exertionof stooping hurts them. The driver beats the camel on the kneewith a stick, and pulls its head towards him by a rope fastened to itlike a halter. During this operation the rider must hold veryfast in order not to fall off, for suddenly the creature drops on itsfore-knees, then on its hind legs, and at length sits completely downon the ground. When you mount the animal again, it becomes necessaryto keep a vigilant eye upon him, for as soon as he feels your foot onhis neck he wishes to rise.

As I have already said, we see nothing on this journey but many andlarge companies of camels, which march one behind the other, while theirdrivers shorten the way with dreary inharmonious songs. Half-devouredcarcasses of these “ships of the desert” lie every where,with jackals and vultures gnawing at them. Even living camelsare sometimes seen staggering about, which have been left to starveby their masters as unfit for further service. I shall never forgetthe piteous look of one of these poor creatures which I saw draggingitself to and fro in the desert, anxiously seeking for food and drink.What a cruel being is man! Why could he not put an end to thepoor camel’s pain by a blow with a knife? One would imaginethat the air in the vicinity of these fallen animals was poisoned; buthere this is less the case than it would be in more temperate regions,for the pure air and the great heat of the desert rather dry up thandecompose corpses.

From the same cause our piece of roast beef was still good on thefifth day. The hard-boiled eggs, which my servant packed so clumsilythat they got smashed in the very first hour, did not become foul.Both meat and eggs were shrunk and dried up. On the third daythe white bread had become as hard as ship-biscuit, so that we had tobreak it up and soak it in water. Our drinking water became worseday by day, and smelt abominably of the leathern receptacles in whichwe were compelled to keep it. Until we reached Suez our poor camelsgot not a drop to drink, and their food consisted of a scanty meal ofbad provender once a day.

At eight in the morning we set off once more, and rode until aboutfive in the afternoon. At about four I suddenly descried the RedSea and its shores. This circ*mstance delighted me, for I feltassured that we should reach the coast in the course of another hour,and then our laborious journey to Suez would be accomplished.I called to my servant, pointed out the sea to him, and expressed mysurprise that we had sighted it so soon. He maintained, however,that what I beheld was not the sea, but a fata morgana. At firstI refused to believe him, because the thing seemed so real. Butafter an hour had elapsed we were as far from the sea as ever, and atlength the mirage vanished; and I did not behold the real sea untilsix o’clock on the following morning, when it appeared in exactlythe same way as the phantom of the previous evening.

At five in the afternoon we at length halted. I lay down onthe earth completely exhausted, and enjoyed a refreshing sleep for morethan three hours, when I was awakened by my servant, who informed methat a caravan was just before us, which we should do well to join,as the remainder of our road was far less safe than the portion we hadalready traversed. I was at once ready to mount my camel, andat eight o’clock we were again in motion.

In a short time we had overtaken the caravan, and our camels wereplaced in the procession, each beast being tethered to the precedingone by a rope. It was already quite dark, and I could barely distinguishthat the people sitting on the camels before me were an Arab family.They travelled in boxes resembling hen-coops, about a foot and a halfin height, four feet in length, and as many broad. In a box ofthis kind two or three men sat cross-legged; many had even spread alight tent over their heads. Suddenly I heard my name called bya female voice. I started, and thought I must be mistaken, forwhom in the world could I meet here who knew my Christian name?But once more a voice cried very distinctly, “Ida! Ida!”and a servant came up, and told me that some Arab women, who had madethe voyage from Atfé to Cairo in company with me, were seatedon the first camel. They sent to tell me that they were on theirway to Mecca, and rejoiced to meet me once more. I was indeedsurprised that I should have made such an impression on these good peoplethat they had not forgotten my name.

To-night I saw a glorious natural phenomenon, which so surprisedme that I could not refrain from uttering a slight scream. Itmay have been about eleven o’clock, when suddenly the sky on myleft was lighted up, as though every thing were in flames; a great fieryball shot through the air with lightning speed, and disappeared on thehorizon, while at the same moment the gleam in the atmosphere vanished,and darkness descended once more on all around. We travelled onthroughout the whole of this night.

August 28th.

At six o’clock this morning we came in sight of the Red Sea.The mountain-chain of Mokattam can be discerned some time previously.Some way from Suez we came upon a well of bad, brackish water.Notwithstanding all drawbacks, the supply was eagerly hailed.Our people shouted, scolded, and pushed each other to get the best places;camels, horses, asses, and men rushed pell-mell towards the well, andhappy was he who could seize upon a little water. There are barracksnear this well, and soldiers are posted here to promote peace—bymeans of the stick.

The little town of Suez lies spread out on the sea-shore, and canbe very distinctly seen from here. The unhappy inhabitants arecompelled to draw their supplies either from this well, or from oneon the sea-coast four miles below Suez. In the first case thewater is brought on camels, horses, or asses; in the second it is transportedby sea in boats or small ships.

The Red Sea is here rather narrow, and surrounded by sand of a yellowish-brownhue; immediately beyond the isthmus is the continuation of the greatLibyan Desert. The mountain-range of Mokattam skirts the plainon the right, from Cairo to the Red Sea. We quite lose sight ofthis range until within the last ten or twelve hours before reachingSuez. The mountains are of moderate elevation and perfectly bare;but still the eye rests with pleasure on the varied forms of the rocks.

After an hour’s rest beside the well, we were still unableto procure water for our poor beasts, and hastened, therefore, to reachthe town. At nine in the morning we were already within its walls.Of the town and its environs I can say nothing, excepting that theyboth present a very melancholy appearance, as there is nowhere a gardenor a cluster of trees to be seen.

I paid my respects to the consul, and introduced myself to him asan Austrian subject. He was kind enough to assign me a room inhis own house, and would on no account permit me to take up my quartersin an inn. It was a pity that I could only converse with thisgentleman by means of a dragoman; he was a Greek by birth, and onlyknew the Arabic language and his own. He is the richest merchantin Suez (his wealth is estimated at 150,000 collonati), and only dischargesthe functions of French and Austrian consul as an honorary duty.

In the little town itself there is nothing remarkable to be seen.On the sea-coast they shewed me the place where Moses led the childrenof Israel through the Red Sea. The sinking of the tide at itsebb is here so remarkable that whole islands are left bare, and largecaravans are able to march through the sea, as the water only reachesto the girths of the camels, and the Arabs and Bedouins even walk through.As it happened to be ebb-tide when I arrived, I rode through also, forthe glory of the thing. On these shores I found several prettyshells; but the real treasures of this kind are fished out of the deepat Ton, a few days’ journey higher up. I saw whole cargoesof mother-of-pearl shells carried away.

I remained at Suez until four in the afternoon, and recruited myenergies perfectly with an excellent dinner, at which tolerably goodwater was not wanting. The consul kindly gave me a bottle, asprovision for my journey. He has it fetched from a distance oftwelve miles, as all the water that can be procured in the neighbourhoodtastes brackish and salt. In the inn a bottle of water costs twopiastres.

The first night of my homeward journey was passed partly in a Bedouinencampment and partly on the road, in the company of different caravans.I found the Bedouins to be very good, obliging people, among whom Imight wander as I pleased, without being exposed to injury. Onthe contrary, while I was in their encampment they brought me a straw-matand a chest, in order that I might have a comfortable seat.

The homeward journey was just as monotonous and wearisome as thatto Suez, with the additional fact that I had a quarrel with my peoplethe day before its termination. Feeling exceedingly fatigued bya lengthened ride, I ordered my servant to stop the camels, as I wishedto sleep for a few hours. The rascals refused to obey, allegingthat the road was not safe, and that we should endeavour to overtakea caravan. This was, however, nothing but an excuse to get homeas quickly as possible. But I was not to be frightened, and insistedthat my desire should be complied with, telling them moreover that Ihad inquired of the consul at Suez concerning the safety of the roads,and had once more heard that there was nothing to fear. Notwithstandingall this they would not obey, but continued to advance. I nowbecame angry, and desired the servant once more to stop my camel, asI was fully determined not to proceed another step.

I told him I had hired both camels and men, and had therefore a rightto be mistress; if he did not choose to obey me, he might go his waywith the camel-driver, and I would join the first caravan I met, andbring him to justice, let it cost me what it would. The fellownow stopped my camel, and went away with the other and the camel-driver.He probably expected to frighten me by this demonstration, and to compelme to follow; but he was vastly mistaken. I remained standingwhere I was, and as often as he turned to look at me, made signs thathe might go his way, but that I should stay. When he saw how fearlessand determined I was, he turned back, came to me, made my camel kneeldown, and after helping me to alight, prepared me a resting-place ona heap of sand, where I slept delightfully for five hours; then I orderedmy things to be packed up, mounted my camel, and continued my journey.

My conduct astonished my followers to such a degree, that they afterwardsasked me every few hours if I wished to rest. On our arrival atCairo the camel-driver had not even the heart to make the customarydemand for backsheesh, and my servant begged pardon for his conduct,and hoped that I would not mention the difference we had had to theconsul.

The maximum temperature during this journey was 43° Reaumur,and when it was perfectly calm I really felt as if I should be stifled.

This journey from Cairo to Suez can, however, be accomplished ina carriage in the space of twenty hours. The English innkeeperestablished at Cairo has had a very light carriage, with seats for four,built expressly for this purpose; but a place in this vehicle costsfive pounds for the journey there, and the same sum for the return.

On the following day I once more embarked on board an Arabian vesselfor Alexandria. Before my departure I had a terrible quarrel withthe donkey-driver whom I usually employed. These men, as in factall fellahs, are accustomed to cheat strangers in every possible way,but particularly with coins. They usually carry bad money aboutwith them, which they can substitute for the good at the moment whenthey are paid, with the dexterity of jugglers. My donkey-driverendeavoured to play me this trick when I rode to the ship; he saw thatI should not require his services any more, and therefore wished tocheat me as a parting mark of attention. This attempt disgustedme so much that I could not refrain from brandishing my whip at himin a very threatening manner, although I was alone among a number ofhis class. My gesture had the desired effect; the driver instantlyretreated, and I remained victor.

My reader would do me a great wrong by the supposition that I mentionthese circ*mstances to make a vaunt of my courage; I am sure that thefact of my having undertaken this journey alone will be sufficient toclear me from the imputation of cowardice. I wish merely to givefuture travellers a hint as to the best method of dealing with thesepeople. Their respect can only be secured by the display of afirm will; and I am sure that in my case they were the more intimidatedas they had never expected to find so much determination in a woman.

CHAPTER XVII.

Return to Alexandria—Egyptian burials—Catacombs ofAlexandria—Viceroy’s palace—Departure from Alexandria—Thesteamer Eurotas—Candia—Syra—Paros and Antiparos—TheMorea—Fire on board—Malta—Quarantine—St. Augustine’schurch—Clergymen—Beggars—Costumes—Soldiers—CivitaVecchia.

September 5th.

At five o’clock in the evening of the 2d of September I commencedmy journey back to Alexandria. During the fortnight I remainedat Cairo the Nile had continued to rise considerably, and the interestof the region had increased in proportion. In three days’time I arrived safely at Alexandria, and again put up at Colombier’s.Two days had still to elapse before the departure of the French steam-vessel,and I made use of this time to take a closer survey of the town andits environs.

On my arrival at Alexandria I met two Egyptian funerals. Thefirst was that of a poor man, and not a soul followed the coffin.The corpse lay in a wooden box without a lid, a coarse blanket had beenspread over it, and four men carried the coffin. The second funeralhad a more respectable air. The coffin, indeed, was not less rude,but the dead man was covered with a handsome shawl, and four “mourningwomen” followed the body, raising a most dolorous howl from timeto time. A motley crowd of people closed the procession.The corpse was laid in the grave without the coffin.

The catacombs of Alexandria are very extensive, and well worth avisit. A couple of miles from them we see the celebrated plainon which the army of Julius Cæsar was once posted. The cisternand bath of Cleopatra were both under water. I could, therefore,only see the place where they stood.

The viceroy’s palace, a spacious building inclining to theEuropean style, has a pleasing effect. Its interior arrangementis also almost wholly European.

The bazaar contains nothing worthy of remark. The arsenal looksvery magnificent when viewed from without. It is difficult toobtain admission into this building, and you run the risk of being insultedby the workmen. The hospital has the appearance of a private house.

I was astonished at the high commission which is here demanded onchanging small sums of money. In changing a collonato, a coinvery much used in this country, and worth about two guilders, the applicantmust lose from half a piastre to two piastres, according to the descriptionof coin he requires. If beshliks {261}are taken, the commission charged is half a piastre; but if piastresare wanted, two must be paid. The government value of a collonatois twenty piastres; in general exchange it is reckoned at twenty-two,and at the consulate’s at twenty-one piastres.

DEPARTURE FROM ALEXANDRIA.

September 7th.

At eight o’clock in the morning I betook myself on board theFrench steam-packet Eurotas, a beautiful large vessel of 160-horsepower. At nine o’clock we weighed anchor.

The weather was very unfavourable. Though it did not rain,we continually had contrary winds, and the sea generally ran high.In consequence we did not sight the island of Candia until the eveningof the third day, four-and-twenty hours later than we should have doneunder ordinary circ*mstances.

Two women, who came on board as passengers to Syra, were so violentlyattacked by sea-sickness, that they left the deck a few hours afterwe got under way, and did not reappear until they landed at Syra.A very useful arrangement on board the French vessel is the engagementof a female attendant, whose assistance sometimes becomes very necessary.Heaven be praised, I had not much to fear from the attacks of sea-sickness.The weather must be very bad—as, for instance, during our passagethrough the Black Sea—before my health is affected, and even thenI recover rapidly. During our whole voyage, even when the weatherwas wretched, I remained continually on deck, so that during the day-timeI could not miss seeing even the smallest islet. On

September 10th,

late in the evening, we discovered the island of Candia or Crete,and the next morning we were pretty close to it. We could, however,distinguish nothing but bare unfruitful mountains, the tallest amongwhich, my namesake Mount Ida, does not look more fertile than the rest.On the right loomed the island of Scarpanto. We soon left it inour wake, and also passed the Brothers’ Islands, and many others,some of them small and uninhabited, besides separate colossal rocks,towering majestically into the sea. Soon afterwards we passedthe islands Santorin and Anaph.

The latter of these islands is peculiarly beautiful. In theforeground a village lies at the foot of a high mountain, with its peaksurmounted by a little church. On the side towards the sea thisrock shoots downwards so perpendicularly, that we might fancy it hadbeen cut off with a saw.

Since we had come in sight of Candia, we had not been sailing onthe high seas. Scarcely did one island vanish from our view, beforeit was replaced by another. On

September 11th,

between three and four in the morning, we reached Syra. Theterrible contrary winds with which we had been obliged to contend duringalmost the whole of our passage had caused us to arrive a day behindour time, to make up for which delay we only stayed half a day here,instead of a day and a half. This was a matter of indifferenceto those of us who were travelling further, for as we came from Egypt,we should not have been allowed in any case to disembark. Thosewho landed here proceeded at once to the quarantine-house.

Syra possesses a fine harbour. From our vessel we had a viewover the whole town and its environs. An isolated mountain, crownedby a convent and church, the seat of the bishop, rises boldly from thevery verge of the shore. The town winds round this mountain inthe form of several wreaths, until it almost reaches the episcopal buildings.The background closes with the melancholy picture of a barren mountain-chain.A lighthouse stands on a little neighbouring island. The quarantineestablishment looks cheerful enough, and is situate at a little distancefrom the town on the sea-shore.

It was Sunday when we arrived here; and as Syra belongs to Greece,I here heard the sound of bells like those of Mount Lebanon, and oncemore their strain filled me with deep and indescribable emotion.Never do we think so warmly of our home as when we are solitary andalone among strange people in a far-distant land!

I would gladly have turned aside from my route to visit Athens, whichI might have reached in a few hours; but then I should once more havebeen compelled to keep quarantine, and perhaps on leaving Greece theinfliction would have to be borne a third time, a risk which I did notwish to run. I therefore preferred keeping quarantine at Malta,and having done with it at once.

On the same day at two o’clock we once more set sail.This day and the following I remained on deck as much as possible, biddingdefiance to wind and rain, and gazing at the islands as we glided pastone after another. As one island disappeared, another rose inits place. Groups of isolated rocks also rose at intervals, likegiants from the main, to form a feature in the changing panorama.

On the right, in the far distance, we could distinguish Paros andAntiparos, on the left the larger Chermian Isles; and at length we passedclose to Cervo (Stag’s Island), which is particularly distinguishedby the beauty of its mountain-range. Here, as at Syra, we findan isolated mountain, round which a town winds almost to its summit.

September 12th.

As I came on deck to-day with the sun, the mainland of the Moreawas in sight on our right,—a great plain, with many villages scatteredover its surface, and a background of bare hills. After losingsight of the Morea we sailed once more on the high seas.

This day might have had a tragical termination for us. I wassitting as usual on deck, when I noticed an unusual stir among the sailorsand officers, and even the commander ran hastily towards me. NeverthelessI did not dare to ask what had happened; for in proportion as the Frenchare generally polite, they are proud and overbearing on board theirsteamers. I therefore remained quietly seated, and contented myselfwith watching every movement of the officers and men. Severaldescended to the coal-magazine, returning heated, blackened by the coals,and dripping with water. At length a cabin-boy came hurrying byme; and upon my asking him what was the matter, he replied in a whisper,that fire had broken out in the coal-room. Now I knew the wholeextent of our danger, and yet could do nothing but keep my seat, andawait whatever fate should bring us. It was most fortunate forus that the fire occurred during the daytime, and had been immediatelydiscovered by the engine-man. Double chain-pumps were rigged,and the whole magazine was laid under water,—a proceeding whichhad the effect of extinguishing the flames. The other passengersknew nothing of our danger; they were all asleep or sitting quietlyin the cabins; the sailors were forbidden to tell them what had happened,and even my informant the cabin-boy begged me not to betray him.We had three hundredweight of gunpowder on board.

September 14th.

We did not come in sight of land until this evening, when the goalof our journey appeared.

MALTA.

We cast anchor in the harbour of Lavalette at seven o’clock.

During the whole of our journey from Alexandria the wind had beenvery unfavourable; the sea was frequently so agitated, that we couldnot walk across the deck without the assistance of a sailor.

The distance from Alexandria via Syra to Malta is 950 sea-miles.We took eight days to accomplish this distance, landing only at Syra.The heat was moderate enough, seldom reaching 28° or 29° Reaumur.

The appearance of Malta is picturesque; it contains no mountains,and consists entirely of hills and rocks.

The town of Lavalette is surrounded by three lines of fortifications,winding like steps up the hill on which the town lies; the latter containslarge fine houses, all built of stone.

September 15th.

This morning at eight o’clock we disembarked, and were marchedoff to keep quarantine in the magnificent castle of the Knights of St.John.

This building stands on a hill, affording a view over the whole islandin the direction of Civita Vecchia. We found here a number ofclean rooms, and were immediately supplied with furniture, bedding,etc. by the establishment at a very reasonable charge. Our hostat once despatched to every guest a bill of fare for breakfast and dinner,so that each one can choose what he wishes, without being cheated asto the prices. The keepers here are very obliging and attentive;they almost all know something of Italian, and execute any commissionwith which they are entrusted punctually and well. The buildingfor the incarcerated ones is situate on an elevated plateau. Ithas two large wings, one on each side, one story high, containing apartmentseach with a separate entrance. Adjoining the courtyard is theinn, and not far from it the church; neither, however, may be visitedby the new-comers. The requisite provisions are procured for themby a keeper, who takes them to the purchasers. The church is alwayskept locked. A broad handsome terrace, with a prospect over thesea, the town of Lavalette, and the whole island, forms the foregroundof the picture. This terrace and the ramparts behind the housesform very agreeable walks. The courtyard of our prison is veryspacious, and we are allowed to walk about in it as far as a statuewhich stands in the middle. Until ten o’clock at night weenjoy our liberty; but when this hour arrives, we are sent to our respectiverooms and locked up. The apartments of the keepers are quite separatefrom ours.

The arrangements of the whole establishment are so good and comfortable,that we almost forget that we are prisoners. What a contrast tothe quarantine-house at Alexandria!

If a traveller receives a visitor, he is not separated from his guestby ditches and bars, but stands only two steps from him in the courtyard.The windows here are not grated; and though our clothes were hung onhorses to air, neither we nor our effects were smoked out. Ifit had not been for the delay it caused, I should really have spentthe eighteen days of my detention here very pleasantly. But Iwished to ascend Mount Etna, and was a fixture here until the 2d ofOctober.

October 1st.

The quarantine doctor examined us in a very superficial manner, andpronounced that we should be free to-morrow. Upon this a boisteroushilarity prevailed. The prisoners rejoiced at the prospect ofspeedy release, and shouted, sang, and danced in the courtyard.The keepers caught the infection, and all was mirth and good-humouruntil late in the night.

October 2d.

At seven o’clock this morning we were released from thraldom.A scene similar to that at Alexandria then took place; every one rushedto seize upon the strangers. It is here necessary that the travellershould be as much upon his guard as in Egypt among the Arabs, in thematters of boat-fares, porterage, etc. If a bargain is not struckbeforehand, the people are most exorbitant in their demands.

A few days before our release, I had made an arrangement with aninnkeeper for board, lodging, and transport. Today he came tofetch me and my luggage, and we crossed the arm of the sea which dividesFort Manuel from the town of Lavalette.

A flight of steps leads from the shore into the town, past the threerows of fortifications rising in tiers above each other. In eachof these divisions we find streets and houses. The town, properlyspeaking, lies quite at the top; it is therefore necessary to mountand descend frequently, though not nearly so often as at Constantinople.The streets are broad and well paved, the houses spacious and finelybuilt; the place of roofs is supplied by terraces, frequently parcelledout into little flower-beds, which present a very agreeable appearance.

My host gave me a tiny room, and meals on the same principle—coffeewith milk morning and evening, and three dishes at dinner-time; butfor all this I did not pay more than forty-five kreutzers, or aboutone shilling and sixpence.

The first thing I did after taking up my quarters here was to hastento a church to return thanks to the Almighty for the protection He hadso manifestly extended to me upon my long and dangerous journey.The first church which I entered at Lavalette was dedicated to St. Augustine.I was particularly pleased with it, for since my departure from ViennaI had not seen one so neatly or so well built. Afterwards I visitedthe church of St. John, and was much struck with its splendour.This building is very spacious, and the floor is completely coveredwith monumental slabs of marble, covering the graves of the knights.The ceiling is ornamented with beautiful frescoes, and the walls aresculptured from ceiling to floor with arabesques, leaves, and flowers,in sandstone.

All these ornaments are richly gilt, and present a peculiarly imposingappearance. The side-chapels contain numerous monuments, mostlyof white marble, and one single one of black, in memory of celebratedMaltese knights. At the right-hand corner of the church is theso-called “rose-coloured” chapel. It is hung roundwith a heavy silk stuff of a red colour, which diffuses a roseate haloover all the objects around. The altar is surrounded by a highmassive railing. Two only of the paintings are well executed—namely,that over the high altar, and a piece representing Christ on the cross.The pillars round the altar are of marble; and at each side of the grandaltar rise lofty canopies of red velvet fringed with gold, reachingalmost to the vaulted cupola.

The uncomfortable custom of carrying chairs to and fro during church-time,which is so universal throughout Italy, begins already at Malta.

The predilection for the clerical profession seems to prevail here,as it does throughout Italy; I could almost say that every fifteenthperson we meet either is a clergyman or intends to become one.Children of ten or twelve years already run about in the black gownand three-cornered hat.

The streets are handsome and cleanly kept, particularly the one whichintersects the town; some of them are even watered. The countersof the dealers’ shops contain the most exquisite wares; in fact,every where we find indications that we are once more on European ground.

When we see the Fachini here, with their dark worked caps or roundstraw hats, their short jackets and comfortable trousers, with jauntyred sashes round their waists, and their bold free glance,—whenwe contrast them with the wretched fellahs of Egypt, and consider thatthese men both belong to the same class in society, and that the fellahseven inhabit the more fruitful country, we begin to have our doubtsof Mehemet Ali’s benignant rule.

The governor’s palace, a great square building, stands on amagnificent open space; next to it is the library; and opposite, thechief guard-house rears its splendid front, graced with pillars.The coffee-houses here are very large; they are kept comfortably andclean, particularly that on the great square, which is brilliantly illuminatedevery evening.

Women and girls appear dressed in black; they are usually accustomedto throw a wide cloak over their other garments, and wear a mantillawhich conceals arms, chest, and head. The face is left uncovered,and I saw some very lovely ones smiling forth from the black drapery.Rich people wear these upper garments of silk; the cloaks of the poorerclasses are made of merino or cheap woollen stuffs.

It was Sunday when I entered Lavalette for the first time.Every street and church was thronged with people, all of whom were neatlyand decently dressed. I saw but few beggars, and those whom Imet were less ragged than the generality of their class.

The military, the finest I had ever seen, consisted entirely of tallhandsome men, mostly Scotchmen. Their uniforms were very tasteful.One regiment wore scarlet jackets and white linen trousers; another,black jackets and shoulder-knots,—in fact, the whole uniform isblack, with the exception of the trousers, which are of white linen.

It seemed much more the fashion to drive than to ride here.The coaches are of a very peculiar kind, which I hardly think can befound elsewhere. They consist of a venerable old rattling double-seatedbox, swinging upon two immense wheels, and drawn by a single horse inshafts. The coachman generally runs beside his vehicle.

October 3d.

To-day I drove in a carriage (for the first time since my departurefrom Vienna, a period of six months and a half) to Civita Vecchia, toview this ancient town of Malta, and particularly the celebrated churchof St. Peter and St. Paul. On this occasion I traversed the wholelength of the island, and had an opportunity of viewing the interior.

Malta consists of a number of little elevations, and is intersectedin all directions by excellent roads. I also continually passedhandsome villages, some of them so large that they looked like thrivinglittle towns. The heights are frequently crowned by churches ofconsiderable extent and beauty; although the whole island consists ofrock and sandstone, vegetation is sufficiently luxurious. Fig,lemon, and orange trees grow every where, and plantations of the cotton-shrubare as common as potato-fields in my own country. The stems ofthese shrubs are not higher than potato-plants, and are here cultivatedexactly in the same way. I was told that they had been stuntedthis year by the excessive drought, but that in general they grew afoot higher.

The peasants were every where neatly dressed, and live in commodiouswell-built houses, universally constructed of stone, and furnished withterraces in lieu of roofs.

CIVITA VECCHIA

is a town of splendid houses and very elegant country-seats.Many inhabitants of Lavalette spend the summer here, in the highestportion of the island.

The church of St. Peter and St. Paul is a spacious building, witha simple interior. The floor is covered merely with stone slabs;the walls are white-washed to the ceiling, but the upper portion isrichly ornamented with arabesques. A beautiful picture hangingbehind the high altar represents a storm at sea. The view fromthe hall of the convent is magnificent; we can overlook almost the entireisland, and beyond our gaze loses itself in the boundless expanse ofocean.

Near the church stands a chapel, beneath which is St. Paul’sgrotto, divided into two parts: in the first of these divisions we finda splendid statue of St. Paul in white marble; the second was the dungeonof the apostle.

Not far from this chapel, at the extremity of the town, are the catacombs,which resemble those at Rome, Naples, and other towns.

During our drive back we made a little detour to see the gorgeoussummer-palace and garden of the governor.

The whole excursion occupied about seven hours. During my residencein Malta the heat varied from 20° to 25° Reaumur in the sun.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The steamer Hercules—Syracuse—Neapolis—Ruins—Catanea—Conventof St. Nicholas—Messina—The Duke of Calabria—Palermo—Theroyal palace—Church of St. Theresa—St. Ignazio—Catacombsof the Augustine convent—Skeletons—Olivuzza —Royalvilla “Favorite”—St. Rosalia—Brutalityof the Italian mob—Luxuriant vegetation—Arrival at Naples.

October 4th.

At eight o’clock in the evening I embarked on board the Siciliansteamer Hercules, of 260-horse power, the largest and finestvessel I had yet seen. The officers here were not nearly so haughtyand disobliging as those on board the Eurotas. Even now I cannotthink without a smile of the airs the captain of the latter vessel gavehimself. He appeared to consider that he had as good a right tobe an admiral as Bruys.

At ten o’clock we steamed out of the harbour of Lavalette.As it was already dark night, I went below and retired to rest.

October 5th.

When I hurried on deck this morning I found we were already in sightof the Sicilian coast, and—oh happiness!—I could distinguishgreen hills, wooded mountains, glorious dells, and smiling meadows,—aspectacle I had enjoyed neither in Syria, in Egypt, nor even at Malta.Now I thought at length to behold Europe, for Malta resembles the Syrianregions too closely to favour the idea that we are really in Europe.Towards eleven o’clock we reached

SYRACUSE.

Unfortunately we could only get four hours’ leave of absence.As several gentlemen among the passengers wished to devote these fewhours to seeing all the lions of this once rich and famous town, I joinedtheir party and went ashore with them. Scarcely had we landedbefore we were surrounded by a number of servants and a mob of curiouspeople, so that we were almost obliged to make our way forcibly throughthe crowd. The gentlemen hired a guide, and desired to be at onceconducted to a restaurateur, who promised to prepare them a modest luncheonwithin half an hour. The prospect of a good meal seemed of moreimportance in the eyes of my fellow-passengers than any thing else.They resolved to have luncheon first, and afterwards to take a littlewalk through the city.

On hearing this I immediately made a bargain with a cicerone to shewme what he could in four hours, and went with him, leaving the companyseated at table. Though I got nothing to eat to-day but a pieceof bread and a few figs, which I despatched on the road, I saw somesights which I would not have missed for the most sumptuous entertainment.

Of the once spacious town nothing remains but a very small portion,inhabited by 10,000 persons at most. The dirty streets were everywhere crowded with people, as though they dwelt out of doors, whilethe houses stood empty.

Accompanied by my guide, I passed hastily through the new town, andover three or four wooden bridges to Neapolis, the part of ancient Syracusein which monuments of the past are seen in the best state of preservation.First we came to the theatre. This building is tolerably wellpreserved, and several of the stone seats are still seen rising in terraceform one above the other. From this place we betook ourselvesinto the amphitheatre, which is finer by far, and where we find passagesleading to the wild beasts’ dens, and above them rows of seatsfor spectators; all is in such good condition that it might, at a triflingexpense, be so far repaired as to be made again available for its originalpurpose. Now we proceeded to the “Ear of Dionysius,”with which I was particularly struck. It consists of a numberof chambers, partly hewn out of the rock by art, partly formed by nature,and all opening into an immensely lofty hall, which becomes narrowerand narrower towards the top, until it at length terminates in an apertureso minute as to be invisible from below. To this aperture Dionysiusis said to have applied his ear, in order to overhear what the captivesspoke. (This place is stated to have been used as a prison forslaves and malefactors.) It is usual to fire a pistol here, thatthe stranger may hear the reverberating echoes. A lofty opening,resembling a great gate, forms the entrance to these rocky passages.Overgrown with ivy, it has rather the appearance of a bower than ofa place of terror and anguish. Several of these side halls arenow used as workshops by rope-makers, while in others the manufactureof saltpetre is carried on. The region around is rocky, but withoutdisplaying any high mountains. I saw numerous grottoes, some ofthem with magnificent entrances, which looked as though they had beencut in the rocks by art. In one of these grottoes water fell fromabove, forming a very pretty cataract.

During this excursion the time had passed so rapidly that I was sooncompelled to think, not of a visit to the catacombs, but of my returnon board.

I proceeded to the sea-shore, where the Syracusans have built a verypretty promenade, and was rowed back to the steamer.

Of all the passengers I was the only one who had seen any thing ofSyracuse; all the rest had spent the greater part of the time allowedthem in the inn, and at most had been for a short walk in the town.But they had obtained an exceedingly good dinner; and thus we had eachenjoyed ourselves in our own way.

At three o’clock we quitted the beautiful harbour of Syracuse,and three hours brought us to

CATANEA.

This voyage was one of the most beautiful and interesting that canbe imagined. The traveller continually sees the most charminglandscapes of blooming Sicily; and at Syracuse we can already descryon a clear day the giant Etna rearing its head 10,000 feet above thelevel of the sea.

At six in the evening we disembarked; but those going farther hadto be on board again by midnight. I had intended to remain atCatanea and ascend Mount Etna; but on making inquiries I was assuredthat the season was too far advanced for such an undertaking, and thereforeresolved to set sail again at midnight. I went on shore in companywith a Neapolitan and his wife, for the purpose of visiting some ofthe churches, a few public buildings, and the town itself. Thebuildings, however, were already closed, though the exteriors promisedmuch. We could only deplore that we had arrived an hour too late,and take a walk round the town. I could scarcely wonder enoughat the bustle in the crowded squares and chief streets, and at the shoutingand screaming of the people. The number of inhabitants is about50,000. The two chief streets, leading in different directionsfrom the great square, are long, broad, and particularly well pavedwith large stone slabs: they contain many magnificent houses.The only circ*mstance which displeased me was, that every where, evenin the chief streets, the people dry clothes on large poles at balconiesand windows. This makes the town look as though it were inhabitedby a race of washerwomen. I should not even mind so much if theywere clean clothes; but I frequently saw the most disgusting rags flutteringin front of splendid houses. Unfortunately this barbarous customprevails throughout the whole of Sicily; and even in Naples the hangingout of clothes is only forbidden in the principal street, the Toledo:all the other streets are full of linen.

Among the equipages, which were rolling to and fro in great numbers,I noticed some very handsome ones. Some were standing still inthe great square, while their occupants amused themselves by lookingat the bustle around them, and chatted with friends and acquaintanceswho crowded round the carriages. I found a greater appearanceof life here than either at Naples or Palermo.

The convent of St. Nicholas was unfortunately closed, so that wecould only view its exterior. It is a spacious magnificent building,the largest, in fact, in the whole town. We also looked at thewalks on the sea-shore, which at our first arrival we had traversedin haste in order to reach the town quickly. Beautiful avenuesextend along each side of the harbour; they are, however, less frequentedthan the streets and squares. We had a beautiful moonlight night;the promontory of Etna, with its luxurious vegetation, as well as thegiant mountain itself, were distinctly visible in all their glory.The summit rose cloudless and free; no smoke came from the crater, norcould we discover a trace of snow as we returned to our ship.We noticed several heaps of lava piled upon the sea-shore, of a perfectlyblack colour.

Late in the evening we adjourned to an inn to refresh ourselves withsome good dishes, and afterwards returned to the steamer, which weighedanchor at midnight.

October 6th.

We awoke in the harbour of Messina. The situation of this townis lovely beyond description. I was so charmed with it that Istood for a long time on deck without thinking of landing.

A chain of beautiful hills and huge masses of rock in the backgroundsurround the harbour and town. Every where the greatest fertilityreigns, and all things are in the most thriving and flourishing condition.In the direction of Palermo the boundless ocean is visible.

I now bade farewell to the splendid steamer Hercules, because I didnot intend to proceed direct to Naples, but to make a detourby way of Palermo.

As soon as I had landed, I proceeded to the office of the merchantM., to whom I had a letter of recommendation. I requested HerrM. to procure me a cicerone as soon as possible, as I wished to seethe sights of Messina, and afterwards to continue my journey to Palermo.Herr M. was kind enough to send one of his clerks with me. I restedfor half an hour, and then commenced my peregrination.

From the steamer Messina had appeared to me a very narrow place,but on entering the town I found that I had made quite a false estimateof its dimensions. Messina is certainly built in a very stragglingoblong form, but still its breadth is not inconsiderable.

I saw many very beautiful squares; for instance, the chief square,with its splendid fountain ornamented with figures, and a bas-reliefof carved work in bronze. Every square contains a fountain, butwe seldom find any thing particularly tasteful. The churches arenot remarkable for the beauty of their façades, nor do they presentany thing in the way of marble statues or finely executed pictures.

The houses are generally well built, with flat roofs; the streets,with few exceptions, are narrow, small, and very dirty. An uncommonlybroad street runs parallel with the harbour, and contains, on one sideat least, some very handsome houses. This is a favourite placefor a walk, for we can here see all the bustle and activity of the port.Several of the palaces also are pretty; that appropriated to the senateis the only one which can be called fine, the staircase being constructedentirely of white marble, in a splendid style of architecture: the hallsand apartments are lofty, and generally arched. The regal palaceis also a handsome pile.

In the midst of the town I found an agreeable public garden.The Italians appear, however, to choose the streets as places of rendezvous,in preference to enclosures of this kind; for every where I noticedthat the garden-walks were empty, and the streets full. But onthe whole there is not nearly so much life here as at Catanea.In order to obtain a view of the whole of Messina and its environs Iascended a hill near the town, surmounted by a Capuchin convent; hereI enjoyed a prospect which I have seldom seen equalled. As I gazedupon it I could easily imagine that an inhabitant of Messina can findno place in the world so beautiful as his native town.

The promontory against which the town leans is clothed with a carpetof the brightest green, planted with fruit-trees of all kinds, and enlivenedwith scattered towns, villages, and country seats. Beautiful roads,appearing like white bands, intersect the mountains on every side inthe direction of the town. The background is closed by high mountains,sometimes wooded, sometimes bare, now rising in the form of alps, nowin the shape of rocky masses. At the foot of the hills we seethe long-drawn town, the harbour with its numerous ships, and beyondit groups of alps and rocks. The boundless sea flows on the spectator’sright and left towards Palermo and Naples, while in the direction ofCatanea the eye is caught by mountains, with Etna towering among them.

The same evening I embarked on board the Duke of Calabria,for the short trip of twelve or fourteen hours to Palermo. Thissteamer has only engines of 80 horse-power, and every thing connectedwith it is small and confined. The first-class accommodation isindeed pretty good, but the second-class places are only calculatedto contain very few passengers. Though completely exhausted bymy long and fatiguing walk through Messina, I remained on deck, forI could not be happy without seeing Stromboli. Unfortunately Icould distinguish very little of it. We had started from Messinaat about six o’clock in the evening, and did not come in sightof the mountain until two hours later, when the shades of night werealready descending; we were, besides, at such a distance from it thatI could descry nothing but a colossal mass rising from the sea and toweringtowards heaven. I stayed on deck until past ten o’clockin the hope of obtaining a nearer view of Stromboli; but we had soonleft it behind us in the far distance, with other islands which layon the surface like misty clouds.

October 7th.

To-day I hastened on deck before sunrise, to see as much as possibleof the Sicilian coast, and to obtain an early view of Palermo.At ten o’clock we ran into the harbour of this town.

I had been so charmed with the situation of Messina that I did notexpect ever to behold any thing more lovely; and yet the remembranceof this town faded from my mind when

PALERMO

rose before me, surrounded by magnificent mountains, among whichthe colossal rock of St. Rosalia, a huge slab of porphyry and granite,towered high in the blue air. The combination of various coloursunites with its immense height and its peculiar construction to renderthis mountain one of the most remarkable in existence. Its summitis crowned by a temple; and a good road, partly cut out of the rock,partly supported on lofty pillars of masonry, which we can see fromon board our vessel, leads to the convent of St. Rosalia, and to a chapelhidden among the hills and dedicated to the same saint.

At the foot of this mountain lies a gorgeous castle, inhabited, asmy captain told me, by an English family, who pay a yearly rent of 30,000florins for the use of it. To the left of Palermo the mountainsopen and shew the entrance into a broad and transcendently beautifulvalley, in which the town of Monreal lies with magical effect.Several of these gaps occur along the coast, affording glimpses of themost lovely vales, with scattered villages and pretty country-seats.

The harbour of Palermo is picturesque and eminently safe. Thetown numbers about 130,000 inhabitants. Here, too, our deck wascrowded with Fachini, innkeepers, and guides, before the anchor wasfairly lowered. I inquired of the captain respecting the priceof board and lodging, and afterwards made a bargain with a host beforeleaving the ship. By following this plan I generally escaped overchargeand inconvenience.

Arrived at the inn, I sent to Herr Schmidt, to whom I had been recommended,with the request that he would despatch a trustworthy cicerone to me,and make me a kind of daily scheme of what I was to see. Thiswas soon done, and after hurrying over my dinner I commenced my wanderings.

I entered almost every church I passed on my way, and found themall neat and pretty. Every where I came upon picturesque villasand handsome houses, with glass doors instead of windows, their lowerportion guarded by iron railings and forming little balconies.Here the women and girls sit of an evening working and talking to theirheart’s content.

The streets of Palermo are far handsomer and cleaner than those ofMessina. The principal among them, Toledo and Casaro, divide thetown into four parts, and join in the chief square. The streets,as we pass from one into another, present a peculiar appearance, filledwith bustling crowds of people moving noisily to and fro. In theToledo Street all the tailors seem congregated together, for the shopson each side of the way are uniformly occupied by the votaries of thistrade, who sit at work half in their houses and half in the street.The coffee-houses and shops are all open, so that the passers-by canobtain a full view of the wares and of the buyers and sellers.

The regal palace is the handsomest in the town. It containsa gothic chapel, richly decorated; the walls are entirely covered withpaintings in mosaic, of which the drawings do not display remarkabletaste, and the ceiling is over-crowded with decorations and arabesques.An ancient chandelier, in the form of a pillar, made of beautiful marbleand also covered with arabesques, stands beside the pulpit. Onholydays an immense candle is put in this candlestick and lighted.

I wished to enter this chapel, but was refused admittance until Ihad taken off my hat, like the men, and carried it in my hand.This custom prevails in several churches of Palermo. The spacein front of the palace resembles a garden, from the number of avenuesand beds of flowers with which it is ornamented. Second in beautyis the palace of the senate, but it cannot be compared with that atMessina.

The town contains several very handsome squares, in all of whichwe find several statues and fountains.

Foremost among the churches the Cathedral must be mentioned; itsgothic façade occupies one entire side of a square. A spaciousentrance-hall, with two monuments, not executed in a very fine styleof art, leads into the interior of the church, which is of considerableextent, but built in a very simple style. The pillars, two ofwhich always stand together, and the four royal monuments at the entrance,are all of Egyptian granite. The finest part of the church isthe chapel of St. Rosalia on the right, not far from the high altar;both its walls are decorated with large bas-reliefs in marble, beautifullyexecuted: one of these represents the banishment of the plague, andthe finding of St. Rosalia’s bones. A splendid pillar oflapis-lazuli, said to be the largest and finest specimen of this stonein existence, stands beside the high altar. The two basins withraised figures at the entrance of the church also deserve notice.The left side of the square is occupied by the episcopal palace, a buildingof no pretensions.

Santa Theresia is a small church, containing nothing remarkable excepta splendid bas-relief in marble, representing the Holy Family, whichan Englishman once offered to purchase for an immense sum. Theneighbouring church of St. Pieta, on the contrary, can be called largeand grand. The façades are ornamented with pillars of marble,the altar is richly gilt, and handsome frescoes deck the ceiling.St. Domenigo, another fine church, possesses, my cicerone assured me,the largest organ in the world. If he had said the greatest hehad seen, I could readily have believed him.

In St. Ignazio, or Olivazo, near a minor altar at one side, we finda painting representing the Virgin and the infant Jesus. The sacristanpersisted that this was a work of Raphael’s. The colouringappeared to me not quite to resemble that of the great master, but Iunderstand too little of these things to be able to judge on such asubject. At any rate it is a fine piece. A few steps belowthe church lies the oratory, which nearly equals it in size, and alsocontains a handsome painting over the altar. “St. Augustine”also repays the trouble of a visit; it displays great wealth in marble,sculptures, frescoes, and arabesques. “St. Joseph”is also rich in various kinds of marble. Several of its largecolumns have been made from a single block. A clear cold streamissues from this church.

I have still to notice the lovely public gardens, which I visitedafter dining with the consul-general, Herr Wallenburg. I cannotomit this opportunity of gratefully mentioning the friendly sympathyand kindness I experienced on the part of this gentleman and his lady.To return to the gardens,—the most interesting to me was the botanical,where a number of rare trees and plants flourish famously in the openair.

The catacombs of the Augustine convent are most peculiar; they aresituate immediately outside the town. From the church, which offersnothing of remarkable interest, a broad flight of stairs leads downwardsinto long and lofty passages cut in the rock, and receiving light fromabove. The skeletons of the dead line the walls, in little nichesclose beside each other; they are clothed in a kind of monkish robe,and each man’s hands are crossed on his chest, with a ticket bearinghis name, age, and the date of his death depending therefrom.A more horrible sight can scarcely be imagined than these dressed-upskeletons and death’s-heads. Many have still hair on thescalp, and some even beard. The niches in which they stand aresurmounted by planks displaying skulls and bones, and the corridorsare crowded with whole rows of coffins, their inmates waiting for avacant place. If the relations of one of the favoured skeletonsneglect to supply a certain number of wax-tapers on All-Saints’day, the poor man is banished from his position, and one of the candidatessteps in and occupies his niche.

The corpses of women and girls are deposited in another compartment,and look as though they were lying in state in their glass coffins,dressed in handsome silks, with ornamental coifs on their heads, ruffsand lace collars round their necks, and silk shoes and stockings, whichhowever soon burst, on their feet. A wreath of flowers decks thebrow of each girl, and beneath all this ornament the skull appears withits hollow eyes—a parody upon life and death.

Whenever any one wishes to be immortalised in this way, his friendsand relations must pay a certain sum for a place on the day of his burial,and afterwards bring wax-tapers every year. The body is then laidin a chamber of lime, which remains for eight months hermetically closed,until the flesh has been entirely eaten away; then the bones are fastenedtogether, dressed, and placed in a niche.

On All-Saints’ day these corridors of death are crowded withgazers; friends and relations of the deceased resort thither to lightcandles and perform their devotions. I was glad to have had anopportunity of seeing these audience-halls of the dead, but still Irejoiced when I hastened upwards to sojourn once more among the living.

From here I drove to Olivuzza, to view the Moorish castle of Ziza,celebrated for the beauty of its situation and of the region around.Not far from the old castle stands a new one, with a garden of muchbeauty, containing also a number of fantastic toys, such as little grottoesand huts, hollow trees in which secret doors fly suddenly open, disclosingto view a nun, a monk, or some figure of the kind, etc. Here Istill found a species of date-tree growing in the open air; but thefruit it bears is very small, and never becomes completely ripe: thiswas the last date-tree I saw.

The royal villa “Favourite,” about a mile from the town,is situated in a lovely spot. It is built in the Chinese style,with a quantity of points, gables, and little bells; its interior is,however, arranged according to European design, in a rich, tasteful,and artistic manner. We linger with pleasure in the rooms, eachof which offers some attractive feature. Thus, for instance, oneapartment contains beautiful fresco paintings; another, life-size portraitsof the royal family in Chinese costume; in a third, the effects of dampon walls and ceiling are so accurately portrayed that at first I wasdeceived by the resemblance, and regretted to find a room in such acondition among all the pomp and splendour around. One small cabinetis entirely inlaid with little pieces of all the various kinds of marblethat are to be found in Sicily. The large tables are made of petrifiedand polished woods, etc. Besides these minor attractions, a muchgreater one exists in the splendid view which we obtain from the terracesand from the summit of the Chinese tower. I found it difficultto tear myself from contemplating this charming prospect; a painterwould become embarrassed by the very richness of the materials aroundhim. Every thing I had seen from on board here appeared beforemy eyes with increased loveliness, because I here saw it from a higherposition, and obtained a more extended view.

An ornamental garden lies close to the palace. It is flaggedwith large blocks of stone, between which spaces are left for earth.These beds are parcelled out according to plans, bordered with box afoot in height, and arranged so as to form immense leaves, flowers,and arabesques; while in the midst stand vases of natural flowers.The park fills up the background; it consists merely of a few avenuesand meadows, extending to the foot of Mount Rosalia.

This mountain I also ascended. The finest paved street, whichis sufficiently broad for three carriages to pass each other, windsin a serpentine manner round the rocky heights, so that we can mountupwards without the slightest difficulty.

The convent is small and very simply constructed; the courtyard behindit, on the contrary, is exceedingly imposing. It is shut in onall sides by steep walls of rock, covered with clinging ivy in a mostpicturesque manner. On the left we find a little grotto containingan altar. In the foreground, on the right, a lofty gate, formedby nature and beautified by art, leads into a chapel wonderfully formedof pieces of rock and stalactites. A feeling of astonishment andadmiration almost amounting to awe came upon me as I entered.The walls near the chief altar are overgrown with a kind of delicatemoss of an emerald-green colour, with the white rock shining throughhere and there; and in the midst rises a natural cupola, terminatingin a point. The extreme summit of this dome cannot be distinguished;it is lost in obscurity. Here and there natural niches occur,in which statues of saints have been placed. To the left of thehigh altar I saw the monument of St. Rosalia, beautifully executed inwhite marble. She is represented in a recumbent posture, the sizeof life; the statue rests on a pedestal two feet in height. Inthe most highly-decorated or the most gorgeous church I could not havefelt myself more irresistibly impelled to devotion than in this grandtemple of nature.

From the 15th to the 18th of July in every year a great feast isheld in honour of St. Rosalia, the patron saint of the city, in thetown and on the mountain. On these days a number of people makea pilgrimage to the grotto above described, where the bones of the saintwere found at a time when the plague was raging at Palermo. Theywere carried with great pomp into the town, and from that moment theplague ceased.

The road from the convent to the temple, built on the summit of arock, and visible to the sailors from a great distance, leads us forabout half a mile over loose stones. Its construction is extremelysimple, and not remarkable in any way. In former times its summitwas decked by a colossal statue of the saint. This fell down,and the head alone remained unmutilated. Like the statue, thefane is now in ruins, and its site is only visited for the sake of thebeautiful view.

On our way back to the convent, my guide drew my attention to a spotwhere a large tree had stood. Some years before, a family wassitting quietly beneath its shade, partaking of a frugal meal, whenthe tree suddenly came crashing down, and caused the death of four persons.

The excursion to St. Rosalia’s Hill can easily be made in fouror five hours. It is usual to ride up the mountain on donkeys;these animals are, however, so sluggish, compared with those of Egypt,that I often preferred dismounting and proceeding on foot. TheNeapolitan donkeys are just as lazy.

I wished still to visit Bagaria, the summer residence of many ofthe townspeople. One morning I drove to this lovely spot in thecompany of an amiable Swiss family. The distance from Palermois about two miles and a half, and the road frequently winding closeto the sea, presents a rich variety of beautiful pictures.

We went to view the palace of Prince Fascello: the proprietor appears,however, seldom to reside here, for every thing wears an air of neglect.Two halls in this building are worthy of notice; the walls of the smallerone are covered with figures and ornaments, beautifully carved in wood,with pieces of mirror glass placed between them. The vaulted ceilingis also decorated with mirrors, some of which are unfortunately alreadybroken.

The walls of the larger hall are completely lined with the finestSicilian marble. Above the cornices the marble has been coveredwith thin glass, which gives it a peculiar appearance of polish.The immense ceiling of the great hall is vaulted like that of the smallerone, and completely covered with mirrors, all of them in good preservation.Both apartments, but particularly the large one, are said to have amagical effect when lighted up with tapers.

I spent a Sunday in Palermo, and was much pleased at seeing the peasantsin their festive garb, in which, however, I could discover nothing handsome;nor, indeed, any thing peculiar, save the long pendent nightcaps.The men wear jackets and breeches, and have the before-mentioned capson their heads; the dress of the women is a spencer, a petticoat, anda kerchief of white or coloured linen round the head and neck.

The common people appeared to be neither cleanly nor wealthy.The rich are dressed according to the fashions of London, Paris, andVienna.

In all the Sicilian towns I found the mob more boisterous and impudentthan in the East, and frequently it was my lot to witness most diabolicalquarrels and fights. It is necessary to be much more on one’sguard against theft and roguery among these people than among the Arabsand Bedouins. Now I acknowledge how falsely I had judged the poordenizens of the East when I took them for the most thievish of tribes.The people here and at Naples were far worse than they. I wasdoubly pained on making this discovery, from the fact that I saw morefasting and praying, and more clergymen in these countries than anywhere else. To judge from appearances, I should have taken theSicilians and Neapolitans for the most pious people in the world.But their behaviour towards strangers is rude in the extreme.Never had I been so impudently stared out of countenance as in theseSicilian towns: fingers were pointed at me amidst roars of laughter;the boys even ran after me and jeered at me—and all because Iwore a round straw hat. In Messina I threw this article away,and dressed according to the fashion which prevails here and in my owncountry; but still the gaping did not cease. In Palermo it wasnot only the street boys who stood still to gaze at me, the grandeesalso did me the same honour, whether I drove or walked. I onceasked a lady the reason of this, and requested to know if my appearancewas calculated either to give offence or to excite ridicule; she repliedthat neither was the case, but that the only thing the citizens remarkedin me was that I went about alone with a servant. In Sicily thiswas quite an uncommon circ*mstance, for there I always saw two ladieswalking together, or a lady and gentleman. Now the grand mysterywas solved; but notwithstanding this, I did not alter my mode of action,but continued to walk quietly about the town with my servant, for Ipreferred being laughed at a little to giving any one the trouble ofaccompanying me about every where. At first this staring mademe very uncomfortable; but man can adapt himself to every thing, andI am no exception to the rule.

The vegetation in Sicily is eminent for its luxuriant loveliness.Flowers, plants, and shrubs attain a greater height and magnitude thanwe find elsewhere. I saw here numerous species of aloes, whichwe cultivate laboriously in hot-houses, growing wild, or planted ashedges around gardens. The stems, from which blossoms burst forth,often attain a height of from twenty to thirty feet. Their floweringseason was already past.

October 10th.

After a sojourn of five days I bade farewell to Palermo, and tookmy departure in wet weather. This was the first rain I had seenfall since the 20th of April. The temperature remained very warm;on fine days the thermometer still stood at 20° or 22° Reaumurin the sun at noon.

The vessel on which I now embarked was a royal mail-steamer.We left Palermo at noon; towards evening the sea became rather rough,so that the spray dashed over me once or twice, although I continuallykept near the steersman.

At the commencement of our journey nothing was to be seen but skyand water. But the next day, as we approached the Neapolitan coast,island after island rose from the sea, and at length the mainland itselfcould be discerned. Capri was the first island we approached closely.Soon afterwards my attention was drawn to a great cloud rising towardsthe sky; it was a smoky column from the glowing hearth of Vesuvius.At length a white line glittered on the verge of the horizon, like aband through the clear air. There was a joyful cry of “Napoli!Napoli!” and Naples lay spread before me.

CHAPTER XIX.

Sojourn at Naples—Sickness—Laziness of the people—Royalpalace—Rotunda—Strada Chiaga and Toledo—St. CarloTheatre—Largo del Castello—Medina square—Marionettes—St.Jesu Nuovo—St. Jesu Maggiore—St. Maria di Piedigrotta—Publicgardens—Academy “degli Studii”—Cathedral ofSt. Januarius—St. Jeronimo—St. Paula Maggiore—St.Chiara—Baths of Nero—Solfatara—Grotto “del Cane”—Resina—Ascentof Vesuvius—Caserta.

My imagination was so powerfully excited, I may say over-excited,by the accounts I had heard and read concerning this fairy city, thathere once more my expectations were far from being realised. Thiswas, perhaps, partly owing to the circ*mstance that I had already seenConstantinople and had just quitted Palermo, the situation of whichlatter town had so enchanted me that my enthusiasm was here confinedwithin very narrow bounds, and I felt inclined to prefer Palermo toNaples.

At two o’clock in the afternoon I landed, and the kind assistanceof Herr Brettschneider at once procured me an excellent room in SantaLucia, with a prospect of the harbour and the bay, besides a view ofVesuvius and the region surrounding it. As usual, I wished tocommence my researches at once; but already in Palermo I had felt anunceasing pain in my side, so that my last walks there had been attendedwith considerable difficulty.

Here I became really ill, and was unable to quit my room. Ihad a boil on my back, which required the care of the surgeon, and keptme in my room for a fortnight, until the fever had abated.

If this misfortune had happened to me in the East, or even whileI was in quarantine at Malta, who knows whether I should not have beenlooked upon as having a “plague-boil,” and shut up for fortydays?

During my imprisonment here, my only relaxation during the hourswhen I was free from fever and it did not rain, was to sit on the balcony,contemplating the beautiful prospect, and looking on the bustling, livelypopulace. The Neapolitans appeared to me very ill-behaved, boisterous,and quarrelsome, and seemed to entertain a great horror of work.The latter circ*mstance seems natural enough, for they require littlefor their daily support, and we hardly find that the common people anywhere work more than is necessary to shield them from immediate want;this is particularly the case in Italy, where the heat is oppressiveduring the day, and the temperature of the evening so agreeable, everyone wishes to enjoy himself rather than to work.

I sometimes saw men employ themselves for half a day together inpushing bullets with a little stick through a ring fastened to the ground:this is one of the most popular games. The women are always sittingor standing in front of the houses, chattering or quarrelling; and thechildren lie about in the streets all day long. The veriest triflesuffices to breed a quarrel among old or young, and then they kick oneanother with their feet—a very graceful practice for women orgirls! Even with their knives they are ready on all occasions.

For making observations on the Neapolitans no better post can bechosen than a lodging in the quarter St. Lucia. The fishermen,lazzaroni, and sailors live in the little side lanes, and spend thegreater part of the day in the large street of St. Lucia, the chiefresort both for pedestrians and people on horse-back and in carriages.In and about the harbour we find numerous vendors of oysters and crabs,which they bring fresh from the sea. The lazzaroni no longer goabout half naked, and the common people are dressed in a decent thoughnot in a picturesque manner.

Here a number of handsome equipages rolled by; their lady occupantswere very fashionably attired.

Even among the better classes it is usual for the men to purchaseall the household necessaries, such as fish, bread, poultry, etc.Poultry is very much eaten in Italy, particularly turkeys, which aresometimes sold ready cut up, according to weight. On Sundays andholydays the shops containing wares and provisions, and the meat andpoultry stalls, are opened in the same way as on a week-day. Throughoutall Italy we do not see them closed for the observance of a Sunday orholyday.

On the fifteenth day I had so far recovered that I could begin mytour of observation, using, however, certain precautions.

At first I confined my researches to churches, palaces, and the museum,particularly as the weather was unprecedentedly bad. It rained,or rather poured, almost every day, and in these cases the water rushesin streams out of the by-lanes towards the sea. The greater partof Naples is built on an acclivity, and there are no gutters, so thatthe water must force its way along the streets: this has its peculiaradvantages; for the side-lanes, which are filthy beyond description,thus get a partial cleansing by the stream.

As I am not a connoisseur, it would be foolish in me to attempt acriticism upon the splendid productions of art which I beheld here,in Rome, and at Florence and other places. I can only recountwhat I saw.

During my excursions I generally regulated my movements accordingto the divisions and instructions contained in August Lewald’shand-book, a work which every traveller will find very serviceable andcorrect.

I began with the royal palace, which was situate near my lodgingat St. Lucia, with one front facing the sea, and the other turned towardsthe fine large square. This building contains forty-two windowsin a row. I could see nothing of its interior excepting the richlydecorated chapel, as the royal family resided there during the wholetime of my stay, and thus the apartments were not accessible to strangers.

Opposite the castle stands the magnificent Rotunda, called also thechurch of San Francesco de Paula. Adjoining this church on eitherside were arcades in the form of a half circle, supported by handsomepillars, beneath which several shops are established. The roofof the Rotunda is formed by a splendid cupola resting on thirty-fourmarble pillars. The altars, with the niches between, occupiedby colossal statues, are ranged round the walls, and in some instancesdecorated by splendid modern paintings. A great quantity of lapislazuli has been used in the construction of the grand altar. Inthe higher regions of the cupola two galleries, with tasteful iron railings,are to be seen. The entire church, and even the confessionals,are covered with a species of grey marble. The peculiar appearanceof this place of worship is exceedingly calculated to excite the visitor’swonder, for to judge from its exterior he would scarcely take the splendidbuilding before him for a church. It was built on the model ofthe famous rotunda at Rome; but the idea of the porticoes is taken fromSt. Peter’s.

Two large equestrian statues of bronze form the ornaments of thesquare before this church. Quitting this square, we emerge intothe two finest and most frequented streets in the town, namely, theChiaga and Toledo. Not far off is the imposing theatre of St.Carlo, said to be not only the largest in Italy, but in all Europe.Its exterior aspect is very splendid. A large and broad entranceextends in front, with pillars, beneath the shelter of which the carriagesdrive up, so that the spectators can arrive and depart without the chanceof getting wet. This evening there was to be a “particularlygrand performance.” I entered the theatre, and was muchstruck with its appearance. It contains six tiers, all parcelledoff into boxes, of which I counted four-and-twenty on the grand circle.Each box is almost the size of a small room, and can easily accommodatefrom twelve to fifteen people. A fairy-like spectacle is saidto be produced when, on occasions of peculiar festivity, the whole exterioris lighted up. Here, as in nearly all the Italian theatres, aclock, shewing not only the hours but the minutes, is fixed over thefront of the stage. A “particular performance” commencesat six o’clock, and usually terminates an hour or two before midnight.This evening I saw a little ballet, then two acts of an opera, and afterwardsa comedy, the whole concluding with a grand ballet. It is usualon benefit-nights to give a great variety of entertainments in orderto attract the public; on these occasions the prices are also reducedone-fifth.

The greatest square, Largo del Castello, almost adjoins the theatre;it is of an oblong form, and contains many palace-like buildings, includingthe finance and police offices. A pretty spring, the water ofwhich falls down some rocks and forms a cascade, is also worthy of mention.

A little to the left we come upon the Medina-square, boasting thefinest fountain in Naples. Between these two squares, beside thesea-shore, lies Castel Nuovo, said to be built quite in the form ofthe Bastille. It is strongly fortified, and serves as a defencefor the harbour. This is a very lively neighbourhood. Manyan hour’s amusem*nt have I had, watching the motley crowd, particularlyon Sundays and holydays, when it is frequented by improvisators, singers,musicians, and mountebanks of every description.

Not far from the harbour is a long street in which numerous kitchensand many provision-stalls are established. Here I walked in theevenings to see the people assembled round the macaroni-pots: it isadvisable, however, to leave watch and purse at home, and even one’spocket-handkerchief is not safe.

Of the shouting and crowding here no conception can be formed.Large kettles are placed in front of the shops, and the proprietorssit beside them, plunging a great wooden fork and spoon into the cauldronto fill the plates of expectant customers. Some eat their favouritedish with fat and cheese, others without, according to the state oftheir exchequer for the time being; but one and all eat with their fingers.The army of hungry mortals seems innumerable; and during feeding-timethe stranger finds no little difficulty in forcing a passage, notwithstandingthe breadth of the street. Not far from this thoroughfare of thepeople two “Punchinellos” are erected. In one of thesethe Marionettes are a foot and a half, and in the other no less thanthree feet high.

There is, besides, a theatre for the people, where pieces of tragicand comic character are performed, in all of which the clown plays aprominent part. The remaining theatres, the Nuovo, the Carlini,and others, are about the size of those in the Leopold- and Josephstadtat Vienna, and can accommodate about 800 spectators. Their exteriorsand interiors are alike undistinguished; but in some of them the singingand playing are very creditable. In one of these theatres we areobliged to descend instead of to ascend to reach the pit and the firsttier of boxes.

Naples contains more than three hundred churches and chapels.I visited a number of them, for I entered every church that came inmy way. St. Fernando, a church of no great size, but of very pleasingappearance, struck me particularly. The ceiling of this edificeis covered with frescoes, and the walls enriched with marble.At the two side altars we find a pair of very fine half-length picturesof saints.

St. Jesu Nuovo, another exceedingly handsome church, stands on theborders of the Lago Maggiore, and is full of magnificent frescoes, surroundedby arabesque borders. The latter appear as though they were gilded,and the effect thus produced is remarkably fine. This spaciousbuilding contains a number of small chapels, partitioned off by massivegratings. The great cupola is exceedingly handsome, and everychapel boasts a separate one.

St. Jesu Maggiore does not carry out its appellation, for it is asmall unpretending church, though some splendid gothic ornaments beautifythe exterior.

St. Maria di Piedigrotta, another little church, is much frequented,from the fact that the common people place great confidence in the pictureof the Virgin there displayed. The church contains nothing worthyof notice.

The grotto of Pausilipp, a cavern of immense length, now called Puzzoli,is not far distant. This grotto, hewn out of a rock, is about1200 paces long, between 50 and 60 feet in height, and of such breadththat two carriages can easily pass each other. A little chapelcut out of the rock occupies the middle of the cavern, and both grottoand chapel are illuminated night and day. As in the whole of Naples,the pavement here is formed of lava from Mount Vesuvius.

Immediately above the grotto, in the direction of the town, we comeupon a simple gravestone of white marble—the monument of the poetVirgil. A long flight of steps leads to the garden containingthis monument: the poet’s ashes do not, however, rest here; thespot where he sleeps cannot be accurately determined, and this monumentis only raised to his memory. The prospect from these heightsas well repays a visit as the grotto of Pausilipp, where we wander fora long time in deep darkness, until we suddenly emerge into the broadlight of day, to find ourselves surrounded by a most lovely landscape.

The public garden of Naples is also situate in this quarter of thetown. It extends to the lower portion of the Strada Chiaga, isof great length without being broad, and displays a vast number of beautifulstatues, prospects, and rare plants; a large and handsome street, containingmany fine houses, adjoins it on one side. I also rode to the Vomero,on which are erected the king’s pleasure-palace and a small convent.A glorious prospect here unfolds itself: Naples with its bay, Puzzoli,and a number of beautiful islands, the lake Agnaro, the extinct cratersof Solfatara, Baiæ, Vesuvius with its chain of mountains, andthe stupendous ocean, lie grouped, in varied forms and gorgeously blendingcolours, before the gaze of the astonished spectator. This isthe place of which the Neapolitans say, with some justice, “Hithershould men come, and gaze, and die!”

Still the prospects from St. Rosalia’s Mount, and from theroyal palace Favorita at Palermo, had pleased me better; for there thebeauties of nature are more crowded together, are nearer to the spectator:he can obtain a more complete view of them, while in varied gorgeousnessthey do not yield the palm even to the fairy pictures of Naples.

I more than once spent half a day in the Academy “degli Studii,”for in this place much was to be seen. The entrance to the buildingis indescribably beautiful; both the portico and the handsome staircasesare ornamented with statues and busts executed in most artistic style.A door on the right leads us to a hall in which the paintings from Pompeiiand Herculaneum are displayed; several of these relics have no smallpretensions to beauty, and the colours of almost all are still wonderfullybright and fresh. In the great hall at the end of the courtyardwe find on one side the Farnese Hercules, and on the other the Bull,both works of the Athenian Glycon. These two antiques, particularlythe latter, have been in a great measure restored.

The gallery of great bronzes is considered the first in the world,for here we find united the finest works of ancient times. Somany beautiful creations of art were here brought together, that ifI attempted a description of them I should not know where to begin.

Opposite the gallery of bronzes is that allotted to the marbles,among which a beautiful Venus stands prominently forth.

In the gallery of Flora, a statue of the same goddess, called theFarnese, is also the principal attraction.

A statue of Apollo playing on the lyre, of porphyry, is the greatestmasterpiece in the hall of coloured marbles; while in the gallery ofthe Muses a basin of Athenian porphyry occupies the first place.

In the Adonis room the beautiful Venus Anadyomene engrossed my chiefattention; and in the cabinet of Venus the Venus Callipygos forms anexquisite sidepiece to the Venus de Medicis.

The upper regions of this splendid building contain an extensivelibrary and a picture-gallery.

I also paid a visit to the catacombs of St. Januarius, which extendthree stories high on a mountain, and are full of little niches, fiveor six of which are often found one above the other.

In the chapel Santa Maria della Pieta, in the palace St. Severino,I admired three of the finest and most valuable marble statues thatcan be found any where; I mean, “Veiled Innocence,” “Malicein a Net,” and a veiled recumbent figure of Christ. Allthree are by the sculptor Bernini.

The largest church in the town is the cathedral dedicated to St.Januarius. This structure rests on a hundred and ten columns ofEgyptian and African granite, standing three by three, embedded in thewalls. The church has not a very imposing appearance. Thechief altar, beneath which the body of St. Januarius is deposited, isornamented with many kinds of valuable marble. Here I saw a greatnumber of pictures, most of them of considerable merit. The chapelof St. Januarius, also called the “chapel of the treasure,”is one of the most gorgeous shrines that can be conceived. TheNeapolitans built it as a thank-offering at the cessation of a plague.The cost was above a million of ducats, and the wealth of this chapelis greater than that of any church in Christendom. It is builtin a circular form, and all the resources of art have been lavishedon the decoration of the chief altar. Every spot is covered withtreasures and works of art, and the roof is supported by forty-two Corinthianpillars of dark-red stone. All the decorations of the high altar,the immense candelabra and massive flower-vases, are of silver.At a grand festival, when every thing is richly illuminated, the appearanceof this chapel must be gorgeous in the extreme. The head and twobottles of the blood of St. Januarius are preserved here; the peopleassert that this blood liquefies every year. The frescoes on theceiling are splendidly painted; and on the square before the churchis to be seen an obelisk surmounted by a statue of St. Januarius.

St. Jeronimo has an imposing appearance when one first enters.The whole roof of this church as far downwards as the pillars is coveredwith beautiful arabesques and figures. It also contains some finepaintings, and is, besides, renowned for its architecture.

St. Paula Maggiore, another spacious church, is well worth seeingon account of its magnificent arabesques and fresco-paintings; besidesthese it also contains some handsome monuments and statues of marble.Two very ancient pillars stand in front of this church.

St. Chiara, a fine large church, offers some fine monuments and oil-paintings.

Among the excursions in the neighbourhood of Naples, that to Puzzoliis certainly the most interesting. After passing through the greatgrotto, we reach the ancient and rather important town of Puzzoli, with8000 inhabitants. Cicero called this place a little Rome.In the centre of the town stands the church of St. Proculus, which wasconverted from a heathen into a Christian temple, and is surroundedby fine-looking Corinthian pillars.

Remarkable beyond all else is the ruined temple of Seropis.Almost the entire magnitude and arrangement of this magnificent buildingcan yet be discerned. A few of the pillars that once supportedthe cupola are still erect, and several of the cells, which surroundedthe temple and were once used as baths, can still be seen. Everything here is of fine white marble. The greater portion of theruin was dismantled, to be used in the construction of the royal villaof Caserta.

The harbour of Puzzoli is related to have been the finest in Italy.From this place Caligula had a bridge erected to Baiæ, about 4000paces in length. He undertook this gigantic work in consequenceof a prophecy that was made to him, that he would no more become emperorthan he could ride to Baiæ on horseback. This prophecy heconfuted, and became emperor. Of the amphitheatre and the colosseumnot a trace remains. A little chapel now occupies the site onwhich they stood; tradition asserts that it is built on the very spotwhere St. Januarius was thrown to the bears.

Not far from this chapel we are shewn the labyrinth of Dædalus;several of its winding walks still exist, through which it would bedifficult to find the way without a cicerone.

We ascended the hill immediately beyond the city, on which some remainsof Cicero’s villa are yet to be seen: here we enjoyed a splendidprospect.

In this region we continually wander among ruins, and see every wherearound us the relics of the past. Thus a short walk brought usfrom Cicero’s villa to the ruins of three temples—thoseof Diana, Venus, and Mercury. Of the first, one side and a fewlittle cells, called the “baths of Venus,” alone remain.Part of Venus’s temple stands in the rotunda. It was builton acoustic principles, so that any one who puts his ear to a certainpart of the wall can hear what is whispered at the opposite extremity.A few fragments of the rotunda were the only trace left of the templeof Diana.

The vapour baths of Nero, hewn out of the rock, consist of severalpassages, into which it is impossible to penetrate far on account ofthe heat. A boy ran to the spring and brought us some boilingwater; he returned from his expedition fiery red in the face, and coveredwith perspiration. These poor lads are accustomed to remain atthe spring until they have succeeded in boiling some eggs; but I wouldnot allow any such cruelty, and did not even wish them to fetch me thewater, but Herr Brettschneider would have it so in spite of me.

From this place we crossed by sea to Baiæ, where at one timemany of the rich people had their villas. Their proceedings hereare said, however, to have been of so immoral a character, that at lengthit was considered wrong to have resided here any time. Every visitormust be enchanted with the fertility of this region, and with its lovelyaspect. A castle, now used as a barrack for veterans, crowns thesummit of a rock which stands prominently forth. A few unimportanttraces can still be here discovered of an ancient temple of Hercules.Some masonry, in the form of a monument, marks the alleged spot whereAgrippina was murdered and buried by order of her son.

The immense reservoir built by order of the emperor Augustus forthe purpose of supplying the fleet with fresh water, is situate in theneighbourhood of Baiæ; it is called Piscina. This giantstructure contains several large chambers, their roofs supported bynumerous columns. To view this reservoir we are compelled to descenda flight of steps.

Not far from the before-mentioned building we come upon the “CentoCamarelle,” a prison consisting of a multitude of small cells.

On our way back we visited Solfatara, the celebrated crater plain,about 1000 feet in length by 800 in breadth, skirted by hills.Its volcanic power is not yet wholly extinct; in several places brimstone-fumes(whence the plain derives its name,) are still seen rising into theair, which they impregnate with a most noxious odour. On strikingthe ground with a stick a sound is produced, from which we can judgethat the whole space beneath us is hollow. This excursion is avery disagreeable one; we are continually marching across a mere crustof earth, which may give way any moment. I found here a manufactoryof brimstone and alum. A little church belonging to the Capuchins,where we are shewn a stone on which St. Januarius was decapitated afterthe bears had refused to tear him to pieces, stands on a hill near theSolfatara.

Towards evening we reached the “Dog’s Grotto.”A huntsman from the royal preserve Astroni accompanied us, and fetchedthe man who keeps the keys of the grotto. This functionary soonappeared with a couple of dogs, to furnish us with a practical illustrationof the convulsions caused by the foul air of the cavern. But Ideclined the experiment, and contented myself with viewing the grotto.It is of small extent, about eight or ten feet long, not more than fivein breadth, and six or eight high. I entered the cave, and solong as I remained erect felt no inconvenience. So soon as I benttowards the ground, however, and the lower stratum of air blew uponmy face, I experienced a most horrible choking sensation.

After we had satisfied our curiosity the huntsman led us to the neighbouringhunting-lodge, and to a little lake where a number of ducks are fattened.This man spoke of another and a much more remarkable grotto, of whichhe possessed the keys, and which he should have great pleasure in shewingus. Though twilight was rapidly approaching we determined to go,as the place was not far off. The man opened the door, and invitedus to enter the cavern, advising us at the same time to bend down open-mouthed,as we had done in the Dog’s Grotto, and at the same time to fanthe air upwards with our hands, that we might the better inhale it,—aproceeding which he asserted to be peculiarly good for the digestiveorgans. His eloquence was so powerful, that we could not helpsuspecting the man; and it struck us as very strange that he was soparticularly anxious we should enter the cavern together. This,therefore, we refused to do; and Herr Brettschneider remained outsidewith our guide, while I entered alone and did as he had directed.Though the lower stratum of air in the Dog’s Grotto had been highlymephitic, the atmosphere here was more stifling still. I rushedforth with the speed of lightning; and now we clearly saw through thefellow’s intention. If Herr Brettschneider and myself hadentered together, he would undoubtedly have shut the door, and we shouldhave been stifled in a few moments. We did not allow him to noticeour suspicions, but merely said that we could not spend any more timehere to-day on account of the lateness of the hour. Our worthyfriend accompanied us through a wild and gloomy region, with his gunon his shoulder; and I was not a little afraid of him, for he kept talkingabout his honesty and the good intentions he had towards us. Wekept, however, close beside him, and watched him narrowly, without betrayingany symptom of apprehension; and at length, to our great relief, wegained the open road.

The royal villa of Portici lies about four “miglia” fromNaples, and we made an excursion thither by railway. Both thepalace and the gardens are handsome, and of considerable size.Thence we proceeded to Resina. Portici and Resina are so closelyconnected together by villas and houses, that a stranger would takethem for one place. Beneath Resina lies Herculaneum, a city destroyedseventy-nine years after the birth of our Saviour. In the year1689 a marquis caused a well to be dug in his garden, when, at a depthof sixty-five feet, the labourers came upon fragments of marble withdivers inscriptions. It was not until 1720 that systematic excavationswere made. Even then great caution was necessary, as Resina isunfortunately built upon Herculaneum, and the safety of the houses becameendangered.

At Resina we procured torches and a guide, and descended to viewthe subterranean city. We saw the theatre, a number of houses,several temples, and the forum. Some fine frescoes are still tobe distinguished on the walls of the apartments. The floors arecovered with mosaic; but still this place does not offer nearly so manyobjects of interest as another which was overwhelmed at the same time—Pompeii.

Pompeii is without doubt the most remarkable city of its kind thatexists. A great portion of the town is surrounded by walls, andentire rows of houses, several temples, the theatre, the forum, in shorta vast number of buildings, streets, and squares lay open before us.The more I wandered through the streets and open places, the more Iinvoluntarily wondered not to find the inhabitants and labourers employedin repairing the houses; I could hardly realise the idea that so manybeautiful houses and well preserved apartments should be untenanted.The deserted aspect of this town had a very melancholy effect in myeyes.

Though a great portion of the town has already been dug out, onlythree hundred skeletons have been found,—a proof that the greaterportion of the inhabitants effected their escape.

In many houses I found splendid tesselated pavements, representingflowers, wreaths, animals, and arabesques; even the halls and courtyardswere decorated with a larger kind of mosaic work. The walls ofthe rooms are plastered over with a description of firm polished enamel,frequently looking like marble, and covered with beautiful frescoes.In Sallust’s house a whole row of wine jugs still stands in thecellar. In the houses the division of the rooms, and the purposesto which the different apartments were devoted, can still be distinctlytraced. In general they are very small, and the windows seldomlook out upon the street. Deep ruts of carriages can be seen inthe streets. All the treasures of art which could be removed,such as statues, pictures, etc., were carried off to Naples, and placedin the museum there.

VESUVIUS.

In the agreeable society of Herr M. and Madame Brettschneider, Irode away from Resina at eleven in the forenoon. A pleasant road,winding among vineyards, brought us in an hour’s time to the neighbourhoodof the great lava-field, Torre del Greco. It is a fearful sightto behold these grand mounds of lava towering in the most various formsaround us. All traces of vegetation have vanished; far and widewe can descry nothing but hardened masses, which once rushed in moltenstreams down the mountain. A capitally-constructed road leadsus, without the slightest fatigue, through the midst of this scene ofdevastation to the usual resting-place of travellers, the “Hermitage.”

At this dwelling we made halt, ascended to the upper story, and calledfor a bottle of Lacrimæ Christi. The view here, and at severalother points of our ascent, is most charming.

The hermit seems, however, to lead any thing but a solitary life,for a day seldom passes on which strangers do not call in to claim hisattention in proportion as they run up a score. The clerical gentlemanis, in fact, no more and no less than a very common innkeeper, and partakesof the goodly obesity frequently noticed among persons of his class.We stayed three quarters of an hour in the domicile of this hermit-host,and afterwards rode on towards the heights, along a beautiful road amongfields of lava. In half an hour’s time, however, we werecompletely shut in by lava-fields, and here the beaten track ended.We now dismounted, and continued our ascent on foot. It is difficultfor one who has not seen it to picture to himself the scene that layaround us. Devastation every where; lava covering the whole regionin heaps upon heaps, fantastically piled one on the other. Herea huge isolated mound rises, seemingly cut off on all sides from thelava around; there we see how a mighty stream once rushed down the mountain-side,and cooled gradually into stone. Immense chasms are filled withlava masses, which have lain here for many years cold and motionless,and will probably remain for as many more, for their fury has spentit*elf.

The lava is of different colours, according as it has been exposedto the atmosphere for a longer or a shorter period. The oldestlava has the hue of granite, and almost its hardness, for which reasonsit is largely used for building houses and paving streets.

From the place where we left our donkeys we had to climb upwardsfor nearly an hour over the lava before reaching the crater. Theascent is somewhat fatiguing, as we are obliged to be very careful atevery step to avoid entangling our feet among the blocks of lava; stillthe difficulty is not nearly so great as people make out. It ismerely necessary to wear good thick boots, and then all goes extremelywell. The higher we mount, the more numerous do the fissures becomefrom which smoke bursts forth. In one of these clefts we placedsome eggs, which were completely boiled in four minutes’ time.Near these places the ground is so hot that we could not have stoodstill for many minutes; still we did not get burnt feet or any thingof the kind.

On reaching the crater we found ourselves enveloped in so thick afog that we could not see ten paces in advance. There was nothingfor it but to sit down and wait patiently until the sun could penetratethe mist and spread light and cheerfulness among us. Then we descendedinto the crater, and approached as closely as possible to the placefrom which the smoky column whirls into the air. The road wasa gloomy one, for we were shut in as in a bowl, and could discern aroundus nothing but mountains of lava, while before us rose the huge smokycolumn, threatening each moment to shroud us in darkness as the windblew it in clouds in our direction. When the ground was struckwith a stick, it gave forth a hollow rumbling sound like at Solfatara.In the neighbourhood of the column of smoke we could see nothing morethan at the edge from which we had climbed downwards—a peculiarpicture of unparalleled devastation. The circumference of thecrater seems not to have changed since the visit of Herr Lewald, whoa few years ago estimated its dimensions at 5000 feet. After oncemore mounting to the brim, we walked round a great part of the edgeof the basin.

At the particular desire of Herr M., who was well acquainted withall the remarkable points about the volcano, our guide now led the wayto the so-called “hell,” a little crater which formed itselfit in the year 1834. To reach it we had to climb about over fieldsof lava for half an hour. The aspect of this hell did not strikeme as particularly grand. An uneven wall of lava suddenly rosefifteen paces in advance of us, with whole strata of pure sulphur andother beautifully-coloured substances depending from its projectingangles. One of these substances was of a snowy-white colour, light,and very porous. I took a piece with me, but the next day on proceedingto pack it carefully, I found that above half had melted and becomequite soft and damp, so that I was compelled to throw the whole away.The same thing happened to a mass of a red colour that I had broughtaway with me, and which had a beautiful effect, like glowing lava, clingingto the fissures and sides of the rocks. We held pieces of paperto the fissures in this wall, and they immediately became ignited.Herr M. then threw in a cigar, which also burst into a flame.The heat proceeding from these clefts was so great, that we could notbear to hold our hands there for an instant. At one place, neara fissure, we laid our ears to the ground, and could hear a rushingbubbling sound as though water was boiling beneath us. There wasreally much to see in this hell, without the discomfort of being envelopedin the offensive sulphurous smoke of the chief crater.

After staying for several hours in and about the crater we left it,and returned by the steep way over the cone of cinders. The descenthere is almost perpendicular, and we could hardly escape with wholeskins if it were not for the fact that we sink ankle-deep into sandand cinders at every step.

To avoid falling, it is requisite to bend the body backwards andstep upon the heel. By observing this precaution, the worst thatcan happen to one is to sit down involuntarily once or twice, withoutdanger to life or limb. In twelve minutes we had reached the spotwhere our donkeys stood. We reached Resina during the darknessof night, having spent eight hours in our excursion.

My last trip was to the Castle of Caserta, distant sixteen migliafrom Naples, in the direction of Capua. It is considered one ofthe finest pleasure-palaces in Europe, and I was exceedingly pleasedwith its appearance. The building is of a square form, with aportico 507 feet long, supported by ninety-eight columns of the finestmarble. The staircase and halls in the upper story alone musthave cost enormous sums, as well as the chapel on the first floor, whichis very rich and gorgeous. The saloons and apartments are decoratedin a peculiarly splendid manner with a multiplicity of frescoes, oil-paintings,sculptures, gildings, costly silk-hangings, marbles, etc. A prettylittle theatre, with well-painted scenery, is to be found in the palace.The garden is extensive, particularly as regards length. A hill,from which a considerable stream rushes foaming over artificial rockworkinto the deeper recesses of the garden, rises at its extremity.Scarcely has this river sunk to rest, flowing slowly and majesticallythrough a bed formed of large square stones, before it is compelledto form another cascade, and another, and one more, until it almostreaches the castle, near which a large basin has been constructed, fromwhence the water is led into the town. Seen from the portico,these waterfalls have a lovely appearance. From Caserta we droveten miles farther on to the celebrated aqueduct which supplies the wholeof Naples with water. It is truly a marvellous work. Overthree stupendous arched ways, one above the other, the necessary quantityof water flows into the city.

This was my last excursion; on the following day, the 7th of November,at three in the morning, I left Naples. Apart from the delightfulreminiscences of lovely natural scenes, I shall always think with pleasureon my sojourn in Naples in connexion with Herr Brettschneider and hislady. I was a complete stranger to them when I delivered my noteof introduction, and yet they at once welcomed me as kindly and heartilyas though I had belonged to their family. How many hours, andeven days, did they not devote to me, to accompany me sometimes to oneplace, sometimes to another; how eagerly did they seek to shew me allthe riches of nature and art displayed in this favoured city!I was truly proud and delighted at having found such friends; and oncemore do I offer them my sincere thanks.

CHAPTER XX.

Caserta—Costume of the peasants—Rome—Piazzadel Popolo—Dogana—St. Peter’s—Palaces—Borghese,Barberini, Colonna, etc.—Churches—Ancient Rome—TheColliseum—Departure for Florence—Bad weather—Picturesquescenery—Siena—Florence—Cathedral and palaces—Departurefrom Florence—Bologna—Ferrara—Conclusion.

November 7th.

I travelled by the mail-carriage. By seven in the morning wewere at Caserta, and an hour later at Capua, a pretty bustling townon the banks of a river. Our road was most picturesque; we droveamong vineyards and gardens through the midst of a lovely plain.On the right were mountains, increasing in number as we proceeded, andimparting a rich variety to the landscape. At noon we halted beforea lovely inn. From this point the country increases in beautyat every step. The heights are strikingly fertile, and in thevalley an excellent road winds amid pleasant gardens. The mountainsfrequently seem to approach as though about to form an impenetrablepass; while ruins crown the summits of the rocks, and give a romanticappearance to the whole. At about three o’clock we reachedthe little town of Jeromania, lying in the midst of vegetable-gardens.Above this town the handsome convent of Monte Cassino stands on a rock,and in its neighbourhood we notice the ruins of an amphitheatre.

To-day the weather was not in the least Italian, being, on the contrary,gloomy and rough, as we generally find it in Austria at the same seasonof the year. Yesterday it was so cold at Naples that Mount Vesuviuswas covered with snow during several hours.

The dress of the peasants in these regions is of a more nationalcharacter than I had yet found it. The women wear short and scantypetticoats of blue or red cloth, tight-fitting bodices, and gaily-stripedaprons. Their head-dress consists of a white handkerchief, witha second above it folded in a square form. The men look like robbers;with their long dark-blue or brown cloaks, in which they wrap themselvesso closely that it is difficult to get a glimpse of their faces, andtheir steeple-crowned black hats, they quite resemble the pictures ofthe bandits in the Abruzzi. They glide about in so spectral amanner, and eye travellers with such a sinister look, that I almostbecame uncomfortable.

From Jeromania we had still a few miles to travel until we enteredthe Roman territory near Ceprano.

In Naples, and in fact throughout the whole of Italy, the passportsare continually called for,—a great annoyance to the traveller.In the course of to-day my passport was “visé”five times, making once in every little town through which we had passed.

It was our fortune at Ceprano to lodge with a very cheating host.In the evening, when I inquired the price of a bedroom and breakfast,they told me a bed would cost two pauls, and breakfast half a paul;but when I came to pay, the host asked three pauls for my bed-room,and another for a cup of the worst coffee I have ever drunk; and thewhole company was subjected to the same extortion. We expostulatedand complained, but were at length compelled to comply with the demand.

November 8th.

The landscape remains the same, but the appearance of the towns andvillages is not nearly so neat and pretty as in the Neapolitan domain.The costume of the peasants is like that worn by the people whom wemet yesterday, excepting that the women have a stiff stomacher, fastenedwith a red lace, instead of the spencer. The dress of the menconsists of short knee-breeches, brown stockings, heavy shoes, and ajacket of some dark colour. Some wear, in addition to this, ared waistcoat, and a green sash round the waist. All wear theconical hat. In cold weather the dark bandit’s cloak isalso seen.

ROME.

As we approach Rome the country becomes more and more barren; themountains recede, and the extended plains have a desert, uncultivatedlook. Towns and villages become so thinly scattered, that it seemsas though the whole region were depopulated. The road is rathernarrow, and as the country is in many places exceedingly marshy, a greatportion of it has been paved. For many miles before we enter Romewe do not pass a single town or village. At length, some threehours before we reach the city, the dome of St. Peter’s is seenlooming in the distance; one church after another appears, and at lengththe whole city lies spread before us.

Many ruins of aqueducts and buildings of every kind shewed at everystep what treasures of the past here awaited us. I was particularlypleased with the old town-gate Lateran, by which we entered.

It was already quite dark when we reached the Dogana. I atonce betook myself to my room and retired to rest.

I remained a fortnight at Rome, and walked about the streets frommorning till night. I visited St. Peter’s almost every day,and went to the Vatican several times.

All the squares in Rome (and there are a great many) are decoratedwith fountains, and still more frequently with obelisks. The finestis the Piazza del Popolo. To the right rises the terrace-hillPicino, rich in pillars, statues, fountains, and other ornaments,—afavourite walk of the citizens. On this hill, which is arrangedafter the manner of a beautiful garden, we have a splendid view.The city of Rome here appears to much greater advantage than when weapproach it from the direction of Naples. We can see the wholetown at one glance, with the yellow Tiber flowing through the midst,and a vast plain all around. The background is closed by beautifulmountain-ranges, with villas, little towns, and cottages on the declivities.But I missed one feature, to which I had become so accustomed that themost beautiful view appeared incomplete without it—the sea.To make up for this drawback, we here encounter wherever we walk sucha number of ruins, that we soon become forgetful of all around us, andlive only in the past.

The Piazza del Popolo forms the termination of the three principalstreets in Rome; on the largest and finest of these, the Corso, manypalaces are to be seen.

The splendid post-office, of white marble, rises on the Colonna square.Two clocks are erected on this building; one with our dial, one withthe Italian. At night both are illuminated,—a very usefulas well as an ornamental arrangement. The ancient column of Antoninusalso stands in this square.

The façade of the Dogana boasts some pillars from the templeof Antonius Pius.

The objects I have just enumerated struck me particularly as I wendedmy way to St. Peter’s. I cannot describe how deeply I wasimpressed by the sight of this colossal structure. I need onlystate the fact, that on the first day I entered the cathedral at ninein the morning, and did not emerge from its gates until three in theafternoon.

I sat down before the pictures in mosaic, underneath the huge domeand the canopy; then I stood before the statues and monuments, and couldonly gaze in wonder at every thing.

The expense of building and decorating this church is said to haveamounted to 45,852,000 dollars. It occupies the site of Nero’scircus. Two arcades, with four rows of pillars and ninety-sixstatues, surround the square leading to the church.

The façade of St. Peter’s is decorated with Corinthianpillars, and on its parapet stand statues fifty-two feet in height.

The entrance is so crowded with statues, carved work, and gilding,that several hours may be spent in examining its wonders. Thetraveller’s attention is particularly attracted by the giganticgates of bronze.

I cannot adequately describe the splendour of the interior, nor haveI seen any thing with which I could compare it.

The most beautiful mosaics, monuments, statues, carvings in bronze,gilded ornaments, in short every thing that art can produce, are hereto be found in the highest perfection. Oil-paintings alone areexcluded. Every thing here is in mosaic; even the cupola displaysmosaic work instead of the usual fresco-paintings. Immense statuesof white marble occupy the niches.

Beneath the cupola, the finest portion of the building, stands thegreat altar, at which none but the Pope may read mass. Over thisaltar extends a giant canopy of bronze, with spiral pillars richly decoratedwith arabesques. The weight of metal used in its constructionwas 186,392 pounds, and the cost of the gold for gilding was 40,000dollars; the entire canopy is worth above 150,000 dollars. Thecupola was executed by Michael Angelo; it rests on four massive pillars,each of them furnished with a balcony. In the interior of thesepillars chapels are constructed, where the chief relics are kept, andonly displayed to the people from the balcony at particular times.I was in the church at the time when the handkerchief which wiped thedrops of agony from our Lord’s brow, and a piece of the true cross,were shewn.

The pulpit stands in a very elevated position, and was executed inbronze by Bernini; 219,161 pounds of metal, and 172,000 dollars, werespent upon its construction. In the interior is concealed thewooden pulpit from which St. Peter preached; and immediately besidethis we find a pillar of white marble, said to have belonged to Solomon’stemple at Jerusalem.

The lions on the monument of Clement XIII., by Canova, are consideredthe finest that were ever sculptured.

I was fortunate enough to penetrate into the catacombs of St. Peter’s,a favour which women rarely obtain, and which I only owed to my havingbeen a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. These catacombs consist of handsomepassages and pillars of masonry, which do not, however, exceed eightor nine feet in height. A number of sarcophagi, containing theremains of emperors and popes, are here deposited.

The roof of St. Peter’s covers an immense area, and is dividedinto a number of cupolas, chambers, and buildings. A fountainof running water is even found here. From this roof we have asplendid view as far as the sea and the Apennines; we can descry theentire Vatican, which adjoins the church, as well as the Pope’sgardens.

I ascended to the ball in the great cupola, where there is nothingto be seen, as there is not the slightest opening, much less a window,left in it. Nothing is to be gained by mounting into this darknarrow receptacle but the glory of being able to say, “I havebeen there!” It is far more interesting to look down fromthe windows and galleries of the great cupola into the body of the churchitself; for then we can estimate the grandeur of the colossal building,and the people who walk about beneath appear like dwarfs.

Two noble fountains deck the square in front of St. Peter’s,and in the midst towers a magnificent obelisk from Heliopolis, saidto weigh 992,789 pounds. Near this obelisk are two slabs, by standingon either of which we can see all the rows of columns melted as it wereinto one.

My journey to Jerusalem also obtained for me an audience of the Pope.His Holiness received me in a great hall adjoining the Sixtine Chapel.Considering his great age of seventy-eight years, the Pope has stilla noble presence and most amiable manners. He asked me some questions,gave me his blessing, and permitted me at parting to kiss the embroideredslipper.

My second walk was to the Vatican. Here I saw the immense hallsof Raphael, the staircases of Bramante and Bernini, and the SixtineChapel, containing Michael Angelo’s masterpieces, the world-renownedfrescoes. The immense wall behind the high altar represents thelast judgment, while the ceilings are covered with prophets and sybils.

The picture-gallery contains many works of the great masters, asdoes also the gallery of vases and candelabra.

The Biga chamber. The biga is an antique carriage of whitemarble, drawn by two horses.

In the gallery of statues the figure representing Nero as Apolloplaying on the lyre is the finest.

In the gallery of busts those of Menelaus and Jupiter pre-eminentlyattract attention.

The name of the Laocoon cabinet indicates the masterpiece it contains,as also the cabinet of the Apollo Belvidere. The latter statuewas found in Nero’s baths at Porto d’Anzio.

The celebrated torso of the Belvidere, a fragment of Greek art, whichMichael partly used as his model, is placed in the square vestibule.Never was flesh so pliably counterfeited in stone as in this masterpiece.

A long gallery contains a series of tapestries, the designs for whichwere drawn by Raphael.

The Vatican contains ten thousand rooms, twenty large halls, eightlarge and about two hundred small staircases.

The Quirinal palace, the summer residence of the Pope, lies on thehill of the same name (Monte Cavallo), which is quite covered with villasand beautiful houses, on account of the salubrity of the air.

I visited most of the private palaces and picture-galleries.The principal are, the Colonna palace, on the Quirinal hill; and theBarberini palace, where we find a portrait of Raphael’s mistress,Fornarina, painted by himself, and an original picture of Beatrice Cenciby Guidosteri.

The finest of all the Roman palaces is that of Borghese; from itsform, which resembles a piano, this building has obtained the name of“il Cembalo di Borghese.” The gallery contains sixteenhundred paintings, most of them masterpieces by celebrated artists.

The Farnese palace is remarkable for its architecture, and the Stoppanifor its architect, Raphael. Besides these there are many otherpalaces. I saw but few villas, for the weather was generally bad,and it rained almost every day.

I visited the Villa Borghese on a Sunday, when there is a great bustlehere; for a stream of people on foot, on horseback, and in carriages,sets in towards its beautiful park, situate just beyond the Piazza delPopolo, in the same way that the crowds flock to our beloved “Prater”on a fine day in spring. I also saw the Villa Medicis and theVilla Pamfili. The latter boasts a very extensive park.

I took care to visit most of the churches. My plan was to goout early in the morning, and to inspect several churches until abouteleven o’clock, when it was time to repair to the galleries.When I went to the principal churches,—for instance, those ofSt. John of Lateran, St. Paul, St. Maria Maggiore, St. Lawrence, andSt. Sebastian,—I was always accompanied by a guide specially appointedto conduct strangers to the churches. I could fill volumes withthe description of the riches and magnificence they display.

The church of St. John of Lateran possesses the wooden altar at whichSt. Peter is said to have read mass, the wooden table at which Jesussat to eat the last supper, and the heads of the disciples Peter andPaul. Near this church, in a building specially constructed forit, is the Scala Santa (holy staircase), which was brought from Jerusalemand deposited here. This is a flight of twenty-eight steps ofwhite marble, covered with boards, which no one is allowed to ascendor descend in the regular way, every man being required to shuffle upand down on his knees. Near this holy stair a common one is built,which it is lawful to ascend in the regular way.

The basilica of St. Paul lies beyond the gate of the same name, ina very insalubrious neighbourhood. It is only just rebuilt, afterhaving been destroyed by fire.

The basilica Maria Maggiore, in which is deposited the “holygate,” has the highest belfry in Rome, and above its portico wesee a beautiful chamber where the new Pope stands to dispense the firstblessing among the people. In the chapel of the Crucifix fivepieces of the wood of the Saviour’s manger are preserved in asilver urn.

St. Lorenzo, a mile from the town, is a very plain-looking edifice.Here we find the Campo Santo, or cemetery. The graves are coveredwith large blocks of stone.

St. Bessoriana is also called the church of the Holy Cross of Jerusalem,from the fact that a piece of the cross is preserved here, besides theletters I.N.R.I., some thorns, and a nail.

St. Sebastian in the suburbs, one of the most ancient Roman churches,is built over the great catacombs, in which 174,000 Christians wereburied. The catacombs are some stories deep, and extend over alarge area.

All the above-named basilicas are so empty, and stand on such lonelyspots, that I was almost afraid to visit them alone.

The handsome church of Sta. Maria in Trastavare contrasts strangelywith the quarter of the town in which it lies. This part of Romeis inhabited by people calling themselves descendants of the ancientTrojans.

Sta. Maria ad Martyres, or the Rotunda, once the Pantheon of Agrippa,is in better preservation than any other monument of ancient Rome.The interior is almost in its pristine condition; it contains no lessthan fifteen altars. In this church Raphael is buried. TheRotunda has no windows, but receives air and light through a circularopening in the cupola.

The best view of ancient Rome is to be obtained from the tower ofthe Senate-house. From this place we see stretched out beneathus, Mount Palatine, the site of ancient Rome; the Capitol, in the midstof the city; the Quirinal hill (Monte Cavallo), with the summer residenceof the Pope; the Esquiline mount, the loftiest of the hills; Mount Aventine;the Vatican; and lastly, Monte Testaccio, consisting entirely of brokenpottery which the Romans throw down here.

I also paid a visit to the Ponte Publicius, the most ancient bridgein Rome, in the neighbourhood of which Horatius Cocles achieved hisheroic action; and the Tullian prison, beneath the church of St. Josephof Falignani, where Jugurtha was starved to death. The staircaseleading up to the building is called “the steps of sighs.”The Capitol has unfortunately fallen into decay; we can barely distinguisha few remains of temples and other buildings.

Of the graves of the Scipios I could also discover little more thanthe site; the subterranean passages are nearly all destroyed.

The Marsfield is partly covered with buildings, and partly used asa promenade.

Cestius’ grave is uncommonly well preserved, and a pyramidof large square stones surrounds the sarcophagus. The aqueductsare built of large blocks of stone fastened together without mortar.They are now no longer used, as they have partly fallen into decay,and some of the springs have dried up.

The hot baths of Titus are well worthy a visit, though in a ruinedcondition. Here the celebrated Laocoon group was found.Near these baths is the great reservoir called the “Seven Hallsof Titus.”

One of the greatest and best-preserved buildings of ancient Romeis the amphitheatre of Flavius, or the Colliseum, once the scene ofthe combats with wild beasts. It was capable of holding 87,000spectators. Four stories yet remain. This building is seento the greatest advantage by torchlight. I was fortunate enoughto find an opportunity of joining a large party, and we were thus enabledto divide the expense. The triumphal arch of Titus, of white marble,covered with glorious sculptures; the arches of Septimus Severus, thatof Janus, and several other antique monuments, are to be seen near theColliseum.

The beautiful bridge of St. Angelo, constructed entirely of squareblocks of stone, leads across the Tiber to the castle of the same name,the tomb of Hadrian. The emperor caused this large round buildingto be erected for his future mausoleum. It is built of immensestone blocks, and now serves as a fortress and state-prison.

The temple of Marcus Aurelius is converted into the Dogana.That of Minerva Medica lies in the midst of a vineyard, and is builtin the form of a rotunda. The upper part has sunk in.

There are twelve obelisks in the different public squares of Rome,all brought from Egypt.

I have still to mention the 108 fountains, from which fresh watercontinually spouts into the air. Foremost among them in size andbeauty is the Fontana Trevi.

I was prevented by the bad weather from making trips to any distance,but one afternoon I drove to Tivoli. The road leading thitheris called the Tiburtinian. After travelling for about six mileswe become conscious of a dreadfully offensive sulphurous smell, andsoon find that it proceeds from a little river running through the Solfatara.A ride of eighteen Italian miles brought us to the town of Tivoli, lyingamidst olive-woods on the declivity of the Apennines, and numberingabout 7000 inhabitants. Towards evening I took a short walk inthe town, beneath the protection of an umbrella, and was not much pleased.Next morning I left the house early, and proceeded first to the templeof Sybilla, built on a rock opposite to the waterfall. AfterwardsI went to view the grotto of Neptune, and that through which the Arnoflows, rushing out of the cavern to fall headlong over a ledge of loftyrocks, and form the cascade of Tivoli. The best view of this fallis obtained from the bridge. Besides many pretty minor cascades,I saw a number of ruins; the most remarkable among these was the villaof Mecænas.

November 23d.

At six o’clock this morning I commenced my journey to Florencewith a Veturino. Almost the whole distance the weather was inthe highest degree unfavourable—it was foggy, rainy, and verycold. A journey through Italy during autumn or winter is far fromagreeable; for there are generally cold and rain to be encountered,and no warm rooms to be found in the inns, where fires are never kindleduntil after the guests have arrived. And the fires they lightin the grates are, after all, quite inadequate to warm the damp, unairedrooms, and the traveller feels scorched and cold almost at the samemoment. The floors are all of stone, but a few straw-mats aresometimes spread beneath the dining-tables.

The landscape through which we travelled to-day did not possess manyattractions. For about forty miles, as far as Ronciglione, wesaw neither town nor village. The aspect of Ronciglione is rathermelancholy, though it boasts a broad street and many houses of two stories.But the latter all have a gloomy look, and the town itself appears tobe thinly populated. We passed the night here.

According to Italian custom, I had made a bargain with the proprietorof our vehicle for the journey, including lodging and board. Iwas well satisfied, for he strictly kept his contract. But whoeverexpects more than one meal a day under an arrangement of this sort willfind himself grievously mistaken; the traveller who wishes to take anything in the morning or in the middle of the day must pay out of hisown pocket. I found every thing here exceedingly expensive andvery bad.

November 24th.

To-day we passed through some very pretty, though not populous districts.In the afternoon we at length reached two towns,—namely, Viterbo,with 13,000 inhabitants, lying in a fruitful plain; and Montefiascone,built on a high hill, and backed by lofty mountains, on which a celebratedvine is cultivated. At the foot of the hill, near Montefiascone,lies a small lake, and farther on one of considerable size, the Lagode Balsana, with a little town of the same name, once the capital ofthe Volsci. An ancient fortress rises in the midst of this town,surrounded by tall and venerable houses as with a wreath.

We had now to cross a considerable mountain, an undertaking of somedifficulty when we consider how heavily the rain had fallen. Bythe aid of an extra pair of horses we passed safely over the miserableroads, and took up our quarters for the night in the little villageof Lorenzo. We had already reached the domain of the Apennines.

November 25th.

We had now only a few more hours to travel through the papal dominions.The river Centino forms the boundary between the States of the Churchand Tuscany. The greater portion of the region around us gavetokens of its volcanic origin. We saw several grottoes and cavernsof broken stone resembling lava, basaltic columns, etc.

The Dogana of Tuscany, a handsome building, stands in the neighbourhoodof Ponte Centino. The country here wears a wild aspect; as faras the eye can stretch, it rests upon mountains of different elevations.The little town of Radicofani lies on the plateau of a considerablehill, surrounded by rocks and huge blocks of stone. A citadelor ancient fortress towers romantically above the little town, and oldtowers look down from the summit of many a hill and cliff. Thecharacter of the lower mountain-range is exceedingly peculiar; it issplit into gaps and fissures in all directions, as though it had butrecently emerged from the main.

For many hours we almost rode through a flood. The water streameddown the streets, and the wind howled round our carriage with such violencethat we seriously anticipated being blown over. Luckily the streetsin the Tuscan are better than those in the Roman territory, and therivers are crossed by firm stone bridges.

November 26th.

To-day our poor horses had a hard time of it. Up hill and downhill, and past yawning chasms, our way lay for a long time through adesert and barren district, until, at a little distance from the villageof Buonconvento, the scene suddenly changed, and a widely-extended,hilly country, with beautiful plains, the lovely town of Siena, numerousvillages great and small, with homesteads and handsome farms, and solitarychurches built on hills, lay spread before us. Every thing shewedtraces of cultivation and opulence.

Most of the women and girls we met were employed in plaiting straw.Here all wear straw hats—men, women, and children. At fivein the evening we at length reached

SIENA.

Our poor horses were so exhausted by the bad roads of the Apennines,that the driver requested leave to make a day’s halt here.This interruption to our journey was far from being unwelcome to me,for Siena is well worthy to be explored.

November 27th.

The town numbers 16,000 inhabitants, and is divided almost into twohalves by a long handsome street. The remaining streets are small,irregular, and dirty. The Piazza del Campo is very large, andderives a certain splendour of appearance from some palaces built inthe gothic style. In the midst stands a granite pillar, bearinga representation in bronze of Romulus and Remus suckled by the she-wolf.I saw several other pillars of equal beauty in different parts of thetown, while in Rome, where they would certainly have been more appropriate,I did not find a single one. All the houses in the streets ofSiena have a gloomy appearance; many of them are built like castles,of great square blocks of stone, and furnished with loopholes.

The finest building is undoubtedly the cathedral. Though Icame from the “city of churches,” the beauty of this edificestruck me so forcibly, that for a long time I stood silently regardingit. It is, in truth, considered one of the handsomest churchesin Italy. It stands on a little elevation in the midst of a largesquare, and is covered outside and inside with white marble. Thelofty arches of the windows, supported by columns, have a peculiarlyfine effect; and the frescoes in the sacristy are remarkable alike forthe correctness of outline and brilliancy of colour.

The drawings are said to be by Raphael; and the freshness of colourobserved in these frescoes is ascribed to the good qualities of theSiena earth. The mass-books preserved in the sacristy containsome very delicate miniatures on parchment.

Some of the wards in the neighbouring hospital are also decoratedwith beautiful frescoes, which appear to date from the time of Raphael.

The grace and beauty of the women of Siena have been extolled bymany writers. As to-day was Sunday, I attended high mass for thepurpose of meeting some of these graceful beauties. I found thatthey were present in the usual average, and no more; beauty and graceare no common gifts.

In the afternoon I visited the promenade, the Prato di Lizza, whereI found but little company. A fine prospect is obtained from thewalls of the town.

November 28th.

The country now becomes very beautiful. The mountains are lesshigh, the valleys widen, and at length hills only appear at intervals,clothed with trees, meadows, and fields. In the Tuscan dominionsI noticed many cypresses, a tree I had not seen since my departure fromConstantinople and Smyrna. The country seems well populated, andvillages frequently appear.

At five in the evening we reached

FLORENCE,

but I did not arrive at Madame Mocalli’s hotel until an hourand a half later; for the examination of luggage and passes, and otherbusiness of this kind, always occupies a long time.

The country round Florence is exceedingly lovely, without being grand.The charming Arno flows through the town: it is crossed by four stonebridges, one of them roofed and lined with booths on either side.Florence contains 8000 houses and 90,000 inhabitants. The exteriorof the palaces here is very peculiar. Constructed chiefly of hugeblocks of stone, they almost resemble fortresses, and look massive andvenerable.

The cathedral is said to be the finest church in Christendom; I thoughtit too simple, particularly the interior. The walls are only whitewashed,and the painted windows render the church extremely dark. I wasbest pleased with the doors of the sacristy, with the celebrated worksof Luca del Robbin, and the richly decorated high altar.

The Battisterio, once a temple of Mars, with eight very fine doorsof bronze, which Michael Angelo pronounced worthy to be the gates ofParadise, stands beside the cathedral.

The other principal churches are:—St. Lorenzo, also with awhite interior and grey pillars, containing some fine oil paintings,and the chapel of the Medici, a splendid structure, decorated with costlystones, and monuments of several members of the royal family.

St. Croce, a handsome church, full of monuments of eminent men, isalso called the Italian Pantheon; the sculptures are beautiful, andthe paintings good. The remains of Michael Angelo rest here, andthe Buonaparte family possess a vault beneath a side chapel. Anotherchapel of considerable size contains some exquisite statues of whitemarble.

St. Annunciate is rich in splendid frescoes; those placed round thewalls in the courtyard of the church, and surrounded by a glass gallery,are particularly handsome. On the left as we enter we find thecostly chapel of our Lady “dell’ Annunciata,” in whichthe altar, the immense candelabra, the angels and draperies, in shortevery thing is of silver. This wealthy church contains in additionsome good pictures and a quantity of marble.

St. Michele is outwardly beautified by some excellent statues.The interior displays several valuable paintings and an altar of greatbeauty, beneath a white marble canopy in the Gothic style.

St. Spirito contains many sculptures, among which a statue of theSaviour in white marble claims particular attention.

All these churches are rather dark from having stained windows.

Foremost among the palaces we may reckon the Palais Pitti, builton a little hill. This structure has a noble appearance; constructedentirely of pieces of granite, it seems calculated to last an eternity.Of all the palaces I had seen, this one pleased me most; it would bedifficult to find a building in the same style which should surpassit. As a rule, indeed, I particularly admired the Florentine buildings,which seemed to me to possess a much more decided national appearancethan the palaces of modern Rome.

The picture-gallery of this palace numbers five hundred paintings,most of them masterpieces, among which we find Raphael’s Madonnadella Sedia. Besides the pictures, each apartment contains gorgeoustables of valuable stone.

Behind the palace the Boboli garden rises, somewhat in the form ofa terrace. Here I found numerous statues distributed with muchtaste throughout charming alleys, groves, and open places. Fromthe higher points a splendid view is obtained.

The palace degli Ufizzi, on the Arno, has an imposing effect, fromits magnificent proportions and peculiar style of architecture.Some of the greatest artistic treasures of the world are united in thetwenty halls and cabinets and three immense galleries of this building.

The Tribuna contains the Venus de Medicis, found at Tivoli, and executedby Cleomenes, a son of Apollodorus of Athens. Opposite to it standsa statue of Apollino.

In the centre of the hall of the artists’ portrait-gallerywe find the celebrated Medician vase.

The cabinet of jewels boasts the largest and finest onyx in existence.

The Palazzo Vecchio resembles a fortified castle. The largecourtyard, surrounded by lofty arcades, is crowded with paintings andsculptures. A beautiful fountain stands in the midst; and twosplendid statues, one representing Hercules and the other David, adornthe entrance. The glorious fountain of Ammanato, drawn by sea-horsesand surrounded by Tritons, is not far off.

In the Gherardeska palace we find a fresco representing the horriblestory of Ugolino.

The Palazzo Strozzi should not be left out of the catalogue; it hasalready stood for 360 years, and looks as though it had been completedbut yesterday.

In the Speccola we are shewn the human body and its diseases, modelledin wax by the same artist who established a similar cabinet at Vienna(in the Josephinum). In the museum of natural history stuffedanimals and their skeletons are preserved.

The traveller should not depart without visiting the “workshopsfor hard stones,” where beautiful pictures, table-slabs, etc.are put together of Florentine marble. Splendid works are producedhere; I saw flowers and fruits constructed of stone which would nothave dishonoured the finest pencil. The enormous table in thepalace degli Ufizzi is said to have cost 40,000 ducats. Twenty-fivemen were employed for twenty years in its construction; it is composedof Florentine mosaic. This table did not strike me particularly;it appeared overloaded with ornament.

Of the environs of Florence I only saw the Grand Duke’s milk-farm,a pleasant place near the Arno, amid beautiful avenues and meadows.

DEPARTURE FROM FLORENCE.December 3d.

At seven in the evening I quitted Florence, and proceeded in themail-carriage to Bologna, distant about eighty miles. When theday broke, we found ourselves on an acclivity commanding a really splendidview. Numerous valleys, extending between low hills, opened beforeour eyes, the snow-clad Apennines formed the background, and in thefar distance shone a gleaming stripe—the Adriatic sea. Atfive in the evening of

December 4th

we reached Bologna.

This town is of considerable extent, numbers 50,000 inhabitants,and has many fine houses and streets; all of these, however, are dull,with the exception of a few principal streets. Beggars swarm atevery corner—an unmistakable token that we are once more in theStates of the Church.

December 5th.

This was a day of rest. I proceeded at once to visit the cathedral,which is rich in frescoes, gilding, and arabesques. A few oil-paintingsare also not to be overlooked.

In the church of St. Dominic I viewed with most interest the monumentof King Enzio.

The picture-gallery contains a St. Cecilia, one of the earlier productionsof Raphael.

A fine fountain, with a figure of Neptune, graces the principal square.In the Palazzo Publico I saw a staircase up which it is possible toride.

The most remarkable edifices at Bologna are the two square leaningtowers at the Porta Romagna. One of these towers is five, andthe other seven feet out of the perpendicular. Their aspect inspiredme with a kind of nervous dread; on standing close to the wall to lookup at them it really appeared as though they were toppling down.In themselves these towers are not interesting, being simply constructedof masonry, and not very lofty.

The finest spot in Bologna is the Campo Santo, the immense cemetery,with its long covered ways and neat chapels, displaying a number ofcostly monuments, the works of the first modern sculptors. Threelarge and pleasant spots near these buildings serve as burial-placesfor the poorer classes. In one the men are interred, in the secondthe women, and in the third the children.

A hall three miglia in length, resting on 640 columns, leads fromthis cemetery to a little hill, surmounted by the church of the Madonnadi St. Luca, and from thence almost back into the town. The churchjust mentioned contains a miraculous picture, namely, a true likenessof the Virgin, painted by St. Luke after a vision. The complexionof this picture is much darker than that of the commonest women I haveseen in Syria. But faith is every thing, and so I will not doubtthe authenticity of the picture. The prospect from the mountainsis exceedingly fine.

I returned in the evening completely exhausted, and half an hourafterwards was already seated in the post-carriage to pursue my journeyto Ferrara.

On the whole the weather was unfavourable; it rained frequently,and the roads were mostly very bad, particularly in the domains of thePope, where we stuck fast four or five times during the night.On one occasion of this kind we were detained more than an hour, untilhorses and oxen could be collected to drag us onwards. We weretwelve hours getting over these fifty-four miles, from six in the eveningtill the same hour in the morning.

December 6th.

This morning I awoke at Ferrara, where the carriage was to be changedonce more. I availed myself of a few spare hours to view the town,which, on the whole, rather resembles a German than an Italian place.It has fine broad streets, nice houses, and few arched ways in frontof them. In the centre of the town stands a strong castle, surroundedby fortifications; this was once the residence of the bishop.

At nine o’clock we quitted this pretty town, and reached thePo an hour afterwards. We were ferried across the stream; andnow, after a long absence, I once more stood on Austrian ground.We continued our journey through a lovely plain to Rovigo, a place possessingno object of interest. Here we stayed to dine, and afterwardspassed the Adige, a stream considerably smaller than the Po. Thecountry between Rovigo and Padua was hidden from us by an impenetrablefog, which prevented our seeing fifty paces in advance. At sixo’clock in the evening we reached Padua, our resting-place forthe night.

Early next morning I hastened onwards, for I had already seen Padua,Venice, Trieste, etc. in the year 1840.

I reached my native town safely and in perfect health, and had thehappiness of finding that my beloved ones were all well and cheerful.

During my journey I had seen much and endured many hardships; I hadfound very few things as I had imagined them to be.

Friends and relations have expressed a wish to read a descriptionof my lonely wanderings. I could not send my diary to each one;so I have dared, upon the representations of my friends, and at theparticular request of the publisher of this book, to tell my adventuresin a plain unvarnished way.

I am no authoress; I have never written anything but letters; andmy diary must not, therefore, be judged as a literary production.It is a simple narration, in which I have described every circ*mstanceas it occurred; a collection of notes which I wrote down for privatereference, without dreaming that they would ever find their way intothe great world. Therefore I would entreat the indulgence of mykind readers; for—I repeat it—nothing can be farther frommy thoughts than any idea of thrusting myself forward into the ranksof those gifted women who have received in their cradle the Muses’initiatory kiss.

NOTES.

{23} A florinis worth about 2s. 1d.

{30} TRANSCRIBER’SNOTE: “Use of the Réaumur scale was once widespread, butby the late 19th century it had been supplanted by other systems.”(Encyc. Brit.) Some conversions to currently-used scales (roundeddown) are given here:—

Réaumur Fahrenheit Celsius
16 6820
18 7222
20 7725
22 8127
24 8630
26 9032
28 9535
30 9937
32 10440
34 10842
36 11345
38 11747
40 12250
43 12853

{40} Theyreceive a dollar from the landlord for every guest whom they bring tohis house.

{48} Boatsbuilt very slenderly, and which have a great knack of upsetting,—acirc*mstance which renders it necessary for the occupant to sit likea statue; the slightest movement of the body, or even of the head orarm, draws upon you a reproof from the boatman.

{53} A piastreis worth about one and three-quarters pence.

{54} Aboutone pound sterling.

{71a}A khan is a stone building containing a few perfectly empty rooms, toreceive the traveller in the absence of inns, or shelter against thenight air and against storm. Generally in these khans a Turk isfound, who dispenses coffee without milk to the visitors.

{71b}Its height is 9100 feet.—ED.

{79} Thewell-known artist and author.—ED.

{85} Smyrnais one of the cities that claim the honour of being the birthplaceof Homer.—ED.

{101}Cakes or “scones” in Scotland are baked in the same way.—ED.

{165}I had cut my hair quite close, because I was seldom sure of having timeand opportunity during my long journey to dress and plait it properly.

{167}This Emir could not maintain his position on Mount Lebanon, and wassummoned to Constantinople. At the time of our visit they werestill awaiting his return, though he had been absent more than six months.

{236}This is a work of the young Viennese artist, Leander Russ, who visitedEgypt in the year 1832.

{261}A beshlik is worth five piastres in Turkey, and only four in Egypt.