Travels in Switzerland, Italy, Greece, Asia Minor, Constantinople,
and Egypt—Return to England—Death of Mr.
Rennie.
I had now received a tolerably good education, both
theoretical and practical, as a civil engineer; but before
entering fully into practice on my own account, my
father thought it advisable that I should travel for a
time to study what had been done in ancient and modern
times both in architecture and engineering. I
accordingly left England on the 7th of June, 1819, in
company with my cousin, Colonel, now General, Sir
J. Aitchison, and the late Lord Hotham, his friend.
We had a thirty-three hours’ passage from Brighton
to Dieppe, during which time, having exhausted the
captain’s store of bread and cheese, not very abundant,
we were glad to fall back on a dozen mackerel, which
Lord Hotham’s servant was fortunate enough to catch.
We passed through France without much incident;
but when the view from the summit of the Jura suddenly
burst upon us, the magnificent scene made a most
lasting impression upon my memory. The valley of
the Rhone, the Lake of Geneva, backed by Mont
Blanc and its splendid range of mountains, rose
before us as if by magic; we were totally unprepared
for it, could scarcely believe our senses, and stood enraptured
for nearly half an hour. We then descended
to Geneva, where we passed several days very agreeably,
examining what was then the picturesque old
town, with its clumsy, old-fashioned waterworks; for
the improvement of these my father, through the well-known
Dr. Marcet, had just made a design for the
municipality, which was much approved of, and which
I understand has since been partially carried into effect.
I here made the acquaintance of General Dufour, so
well known for his scientific acquirements, and after
a few days went on an expedition to Chamounix, where,
as no one then thought of ascending Mont Blanc, we
climbed the Montanvert and the Mer de Glace, where
I made some experiments with Leslie’s hygrometer.
Having returned to Geneva, we started again on the
7th July for a more extended tour in the mountains,
going by the lakes of Morat and Bienne, the scene
of the great battle of 1476. I examined these two
lakes, which were evidently rapidly filling up, but by
lowering the outfalls a great part of the whole might
be recovered, whereas at present the borders are to
a great extent covered with reeds, and the marshes
exhale unwholesome effluvia. After passing through
Freibourg, where the bridge, then newly opened, was
considered one of the wonders of Switzerland, and
which, as a most remarkable work of its kind, I examined
attentively, we passed on to Berne, and going
through the mountains, returned to Geneva. On our
way, being at Meyringen, and short of ready cash, we
proposed either to return direct to Geneva, or to change
one of Herries’ circular notes; but on offering one of
these notes to the landlord, he at once said there
was no occasion for it, as we were Englishmen, and
that was enough. Having produced a large bag of
five-franc pieces, he told us to help ourselves, and
was with difficulty persuaded to take one of Herries’
notes in exchange. I merely mention this to show
how high the name of Englishmen then stood on the
Continent.
Leaving Geneva for Italy, we proceeded by the
route of the Simplon, the construction of which I had
promised to observe very attentively for my father.
The first portion only presents, as objects of interest, the
excavations through the rock of St. Gingough, near the
upper end of the lake. From Martigny we started up
the valley of the Rhone, where, though the ground
is generally level, the road yet encounters considerable
difficulties from the river, which here assumes the
character of a torrent, and when swollen by floods
sweeps almost everything before it; wandering from
side to side it deposits the débris of the one side on the
banks of the other, forming, we may say, alternately
rapids and almost still pools, which renders it extremely
difficult to confine its course within any reasonable
limits; so that the art of the engineer is taxed to the
uttermost. I thought that in many places the works
were not designed with that solidity which is so necessary
under such circumstances, and that sufficient
precautions were not taken to arrest the progress of
the débris. I considered that by providing depositories
for it at certain favourable stations, the violence
of the floods might have been considerably controlled,
a much greater extent of land on both sides of the river
rendered available for cultivation, and the extensive
marshes, which, operated upon by a powerful sun, now
produce most injurious exhalations, might have been
deprived of their baneful influence.
Having passed Sion, we left Brieg early on the
10th of August, and as soon as we began the ascent I
descended from the carriage, and with line and rule
I measured every bridge until we reached Boveno, on
the Lake Maggiore. I sent off from Milan, as I had
promised, a detailed account of this celebrated road to
my father, giving a drawing and account of every
work, which I afterwards had the gratification of knowing
afforded him great pleasure. The whole Pass must
have at first sight been appalling to the engineers who
traced the line of road; and although many other
works of the kind of greater magnitude have been since
executed, nevertheless, all things considered, it is worthy
the approbation of mankind, and does great credit both
to those who designed and those who executed it.
We reached Milan[1] on the 12th of August, and I was
much struck with the fine canal which unites it with
Pavia, and which can only be compared with the canals
of Belgium. It has been said that the first pound lock
was invented and executed by the famous Leonardi da
Vinci, but subsequent inquiries have induced me to
believe that our own country is entitled to the honour
in the Exeter ship canal. I was also greatly pleased
with the system of irrigation employed generally
throughout Lombardy. This system was originally
introduced by the Italians themselves, and during the
Austrian rule was carried to the greatest perfection,
Lombardy being by nature peculiarly well adapted to
it. The vast and fertile valley of the Po is for
the most part destitute of rain during the summer,
when it is most wanted; but it fortunately happens
that at this season water is most abundant from the
melting of the snows on the Alps, which descend into
the adjacent lakes and rivers, and would be otherwise
wasted and thrown away if not employed for fertilizing
the land. The water, therefore, at this season is conducted
by an elaborate system of artificial canals, and
distributed over the adjacent lands according to their
respective levels, at a certain price, varying with the
quantity distributed. Thus the constant supply of
water, the high temperature, and the fertility of the
soil combined, produce the most abundant crops, and
the plains of Lombardy are rendered the most productive
and valuable in Europe; whereas in winter,
when the temperature is lowest, the snow is congealed
on the Alps, and comparatively little water comes down
when it is least wanted.
From Milan we reached Verona, where the bridge,
consisting principally of brick, with binding courses of
marble, can boast of one of the largest brick arches in
the world, an excellent example of what may be done
with this material when properly handled. After
passing Vicenza and Padua, we reached Venice early in
September, 1819.
The extraordinary and at the same time most beautiful
and novel appearance of the city, with numerous
towers and spires, about which I had read and heard so
much, and had so long wished to see, now stood before
me, and its loveliness more than realized my most sanguine
expectations. When I considered its origin, a
few fishermen’s huts built upon the mud banks of the
lagoon by men flying from the invasion of Attila, then
the rise of the great republic whose wealth, conquests,
and influence were destined hereafter to play such an
important part in the world, and lastly the fallen and
degraded state in which it then presented itself before
me, I was lost in astonishment; I was for a while transported
as it were in a dream, and could scarcely believe
where I was.
The Grand Canal first attracted our notice,—perhaps
there is no thoroughfare in the world lined with so many
magnificent palaces,—and along which we passed until
we came to the Rialto, a drawing of which I made and
sent to my father. But if I was delighted, and I may
almost say astonished, at the Grand Canal, I was still
more so with the Place of St. Marc and its surrounding
buildings, so varied in their architectural styles, yet each
so picturesque and elegant in itself, and combined
together forming at once the most interesting and beautiful
scene of the kind in the world. It is one of those
sights, at least speaking for myself, that never satiates—the
more I looked the more I admired it. As to the
details of these different buildings which we saw, they
are so much better described in the numerous guide
books that it is unnecessary to repeat them here.
I visited every part of the lagoons, including the
various islands, all of which are more or less deserving
of notice, particularly the island of Murano, the seat
of the celebrated glass manufactories; and also the Moravian
establishment. But what really most interested
me were the lagoons, and the means which must have
been resorted to for keeping them open, notwithstanding
the numerous causes which were and are constantly
in operation to fill them up with the alluvial matter
brought down from the mountains and plains by the
various rivers and streams which discharge their waters
into this portion of the Adriatic, also from the alluvium
brought in from the adjacent shores, by the tide, which
rises from 2 to 4 feet, and at times, during heavy gales
from the southward, as much as 6 feet, overflowing the
quays of St. Marc’s Place.
There was a long-continued discussion amongst the
numerous distinguished mathematicians, engineers, and
others who have written upon this subject, as to the
best way of preventing the filling up of the harbour.
Some contended that the only method of effecting this
was to admit all the rivers into the lagoons freely; for
although they might deposit a certain amount of alluvial
matter, nevertheless the great quantity of water discharged
would alone be sufficient to carry away this
deposit. But they forgot that when the rivers met
the sea the current would necessarily be checked and
rendered powerless to carry forward any matter which
might be held in suspension, and that consequently the
detritus would be deposited and form banks and shoals
which the waters could not remove; thus in time the
lagoons would be filled up, grass marshes would be
formed, the city of Venice would be united to the
mainland, and the harbour would be destroyed. On
the other hand, it was argued, for the reasons above
mentioned, that the only way to preserve the lagoons
and the port of Venice was to exclude the rivers when
densely charged with alluvial matter, and only to
admit their waters at certain times, when they were
comparatively clear; thus all the advantage would be
obtained from the scour of these rivers, without the
disadvantage arising from their deposits. Ultimately
the arguments of the latter prevailed, the rivers were
excluded from the lagoons by making a capacious canal
all around them with sluices at their mouths, by means
of which the waters were discharged into the lagoons
when they were tolerably clear of alluvial matter; the
surplus waters were discharged into the adjacent sea
clear of the lagoons, and any alluvial matter which was
brought in from the sea was removed by dredging from
the main channels of the lagoons, so that they were in
a fit state to admit the tidal waters and thus to keep the
lagoons open.
But there was another important agent to be provided
against, namely, the alluvial matter brought in
by the winds, waves, and currents from the scouring
of the adjacent shores of the Adriatic; this is done
to a certain extent by dredging. Originally these
banks contributed materially to the formation of the
outer banks, which protect the lagoon on the sea
side. If these banks were broken through or completely
swept away, which the storms of the Adriatic
frequently threatened to do, the lagoon, and with it the
port, would be seriously injured or totally destroyed.
This was remedied by defending this outer barrier bank
of the lagoon by facing it with stone, and where the sea
was most violent by constructing a solid breakwater of
stone, and protecting it further by stone filters carried
out a sufficient distance into the sea in order to divert
the current, and to enable the alluvial matter to be deposited
between them so as to form an additional protection
to the main breakwater; this was accordingly
done, and thus an extraordinary work at great expense
has been constructed between Lido and Malamocco, the
principal entrances from the sea to the lagoon, for a
length of four miles, where the effects of the sea are
greatest.
Malamocco is the principal entrance for large vessels,
and the channel from thence to Venice has been deepened,
chiefly by dredging, to the extent of 24 feet at
low water. Lido, which is the next chief entrance
and the nearest to Venice, being about 1½ mile distant
from it, serves for the general class of merchant
vessels. The other entrances of Foggia, Tre Porte,
and the Piave, are seldom used except for fishing
vessels, and it is not necessary to do more to these than
to keep them in their present state, that is, to prevent
deterioration, as it is an object of importance to allow
the great mass of water by which the lagoon is chiefly
preserved to pass in and out of the main entrances,
Malamocco and Lido. Upon the whole it appears to
me that this latter plan is the wisest that could be
adopted, and the result has proved that it has been
so far successful, although attended with considerable
expense. It is in fact a choice of two evils, and the
least has been chosen. It is, I believe, admitted that
the port of Venice is now capable of receiving as large,
if not larger, vessels than she ever received before; for
it should be recollected that in the most flourishing times
of Venice there were no ships drawing 23 or 24 feet,
and vessels of this size can now enter and depart at all
times. Hence Venice has been converted into a port fit
for modern requirements; but it must always be borne
in mind that so strong are the natural obstacles against
its maintenance that nothing can preserve it in its
present condition but the most constant vigilance and
care. Fortunately the method of dredging by steam
has been introduced, and this may be done to any
extent, at a comparatively moderate cost, but it can
only be compensated for when there is a sufficient
amount of trade to pay for it. Still, in whatever way
we may consider the question, it must be admitted that
the port of Venice has been preserved in a most extraordinary
manner during so many centuries, notwithstanding
the natural obstacles against it; and
now that it has been connected with the kingdom of
Italy, there is no further drawback to its full development,
and it only requires self-reliance and energy to
render it what it once was, one, if not the most important,
of the commercial cities of Italy.
At Bologna we had the pleasure of making the acquaintance
of the celebrated linguist Mezzofanti, whose
modest and simple manner, accompanied by his extraordinary
acquirements, quite enchanted us. The singular
fact is that at the time of our meeting him he had
never been out of the province of Bologna, and yet he
had acquired the knowledge of twenty-four languages,
and, as far as our limited acquaintance went, he spoke
the English, German, French, Greek and Latin tongues
perfectly; and those conversant with the Oriental languages
informed us that he spoke them equally well.
He appeared to be completely absorbed in languages,
and was scarcely acquainted with any other branches
of knowledge; still his wonderful mastery of this branch
of study was a great acquirement, and must have
required vast powers of memory as well as indefatigable
study.
From thence we passed through Ravenna to Ancona,
the position of which is good, occupying as it does a
salient point of the coast. The water is deep and there
is a commanding height for a citadel. The Roman
emperors resolved to take advantage of the situation,
and built a town here, the place being well adapted for
a seaport. They accordingly made a mole on the south
side to protect the harbour against the most dangerous
winds, namely, those blowing from the south; they
commenced the work from the shore by throwing down
large blocks of rough stone, which were obtained from
the rocks in the vicinity, in order to form a base for
the superstructure; these blocks of stone were deposited
promiscuously in the sea and left to the action
of the waves, which in a comparatively short time
consolidated them until they formed a mass that at
length became immovable, always adding more stone
as required until the whole became solid; this foundation
was carried up to the level of low-water mark.
They then commenced the superstructure of masonry,
of squared stone and brickwork cemented together
by pozzolana or hydraulic mortar, which was best
adapted to make the work permanent. The inside or
quay wall was formed by first placing a close framework
of timber in front and at the angle or slope at which the
quay wall was to be formed. They then threw down a
mass of pozzolana, lime, and small rubble stone, mixed
together, between the wooden frames and the rubble
stone which had been previously deposited to form the
base of the mole. This in a comparatively short time
become solid, as the mixture of pozzolana, lime, and stone
possesses the quality of setting under water. When it
had become sufficiently solid, the timber frame was removed
and transferred to another section to form a continuation
of the quay wall, and thus the whole line of
inner quay wall which formed the roadway was made
by backing the quay wall to its full height with rubble,
and a parapet of masonry was erected on the outside;
this superstructure, although rough, stood very well
with occasional repairs. In this manner the mole was
carried out to a great extent. A fine triumphal arch
was erected at the end to commemorate the completion
of the work.
It is singular that the same emperor should have
constructed a like work in a similar situation and in
the same manner at Civita Vecchia, on the opposite
coast of Italy, after every attempt had been made to
establish a port by his predecessors at Ostia, which
was built at extraordinary expense, and has been filled
up by the alluvial matter brought down by the Tiber
and from the sea by the littoral currents, so that it is
now three miles from the sea.
The principle of construction used in these works
resembles a good deal the mode adopted by the
Phœnicians at Tyre, and subsequently by the Carthaginians
at Carthage, and by the moderns. The Romans
also employed the hollow mole, that is, a mole constructed
with arches, by means of which the current
charged with alluvial matter was enabled to pass through
the mole, and thus any deposit within or without the
mole was to a great extent prevented. The harbour
of Civita Vecchia remains serviceable at the present day
for vessels drawing 20 feet of water, although, as may
be naturally expected, a certain deposit has taken place
during the lapse of so many centuries which requires to
be dredged out occasionally. At Ancona only one pier
was built on the south side, and consequently an eddy
and stagnation took place on the north side, as the littoral
current runs from south to north, and therefore
there is a tendency to deposit on the north side. The
French when masters of Italy commenced another mole
on the north side, thus enclosing a considerable space
of sea so as to form a close harbour, which no doubt
is of great service; still, from the nature of the local
circumstances, a certain deposit may always be expected.
This, however, can be removed by dredging,
and the harbour may always be preserved in a state of
efficiency if the extent of trade will warrant the expenditure
necessary for the purpose.
On reaching Rome, it is difficult to express the
emotions I felt on a first sight of the Holy City, surrounded
by the desolate Campagna, the Tiber rolling
in front, the Castle of St. Angelo, and the numerous
towers of churches rising out of the mass of houses,
crowned by the gorgeous dome of St. Peter’s elevated
in proud majesty above the whole, backed by the magnificent
views of the ancient city, once the mistress of
the world.
This most interesting, I may say, most thrilling,
sight lay before me in all its solemn majesty. When
I considered that it rose from a few insignificant
shepherds’ hovels to imperial splendour, then became the
prey of the barbarian hordes of the north, and lastly,
the throne of the Catholic Christian world, I was awed
by the wonderful decrees of Providence, and at the instability
of all human grandeur. I lay restless all night;
I could scarcely realize the fact that I was actually
in this wonderful, all-absorbing city, to visit which
from my childhood had been one of the greatest objects
of my ambition. It would be vain to attempt to
describe in detail its numerous splendid buildings, both
ancient and modern, its museums, and its countless
treasures of priceless art. I will merely remark that
there is no city in the world more worthy of a visit
than Rome, or where greater gratification and instruction
can be derived; for example, the aqueducts and
the Cloaca Maxima show how thoroughly the Romans
understood the importance of sewerage and good water
for the preservation of human life, an importance that
is only now beginning to be recognized in England,
while there still remains very much to be accomplished.
My friend Colonel Aitchison was obliged to hasten
his departure. I then took lodgings in the Piazza de
Spagna, and devoted myself to the study of the Italian
language, architecture, and drawing, and in my leisure
moments entered into society; and fortunately at that
time there were assembled there some of the most distinguished
characters in science, literature, and art,
besides diplomatists and leaders of fashion, from the
various capitals of Europe. Amongst the first may be
mentioned the celebrated chemist and philosopher, Sir
Humphry Davy, and his talented wife, under whose
hospitable roof I passed many happy days, and at the
same time received much valuable instruction. I made
acquaintance with the Marchese Martinette, the scientific
engineer, who at that time devised the extensive
hydraulic works for the improvement of the rivers
and drainage of the marsh-land districts of Bologna
and Ferrara, from whom I derived much information.
I also met the well-known antiquary, Sir W.
Gell, who to his interesting memoir of Greece afterwards
added much towards explaining the antiquities
of Rome, and in his agreeable society I spent
many a pleasant day. Dodwell too had just returned
from Greece; and I made the acquaintance of that
prince of sculptors, Canova, to whom my father had
given me a letter of introduction. I frequently went
to his studio, where he always received me with the
greatest kindness. He was then at work on the model
of his famous dying Madeleine, which struck me as a
masterpiece of elegance and beauty, combined with the
resignation and piety which so pre-eminently distinguishes
it as a beautiful specimen of art. Nobody could
be more kind, amiable, and modest in his manner than
that distinguished sculptor. Flattered by emperors,
kings, and the great and cultivated of every land, he
never for a moment forgot himself or appeared to be
elated, or to be put out of his ordinary simple, unobtrusive
manner; whilst to his brother artists he was
equally kind and familiar; to his inferiors he was
always gentle and considerate, giving his humbler
fellow-workers every encouragement and advice, cheering
them on their way, and not unfrequently assisting
them with his purse when their necessities required
it. He was devoted to his art, of which he was so
eminent a professor, and with it combined all those
amiable and charitable feelings which rendered him an
universal favourite and a benefactor to mankind.
I made acquaintance also with the great Dane, Thorwaldsen,
who frequently admitted me to his studio.
He was totally different from Canova. His square,
massive head, covered with a redundance of flowing
locks; his finely-developed countenance, beaming with
talent and firmness of purpose; his colossal and well-proportioned
figure, and erect and commanding gait,
all combined to raise in the mind of the spectator a
degree of respect and admiration not usually to be met
with. Yet with all this apparent sternness there was
combined a happy mixture of gentleness, genial sociability,
and good-nature, which, after a little acquaintance,
soon made you feel at home with him; and the
more you knew him the more you liked him. He was
then at work upon the colossal figures of the Twelve
Apostles, for the church at Copenhagen, a commission
given to him by the King. Several of these were
finished, and magnificent specimens of art they were.
I have since seen them in their places, and have looked
at them with increased admiration. His Triumph of
Alexander had just then been completed, and a finer
specimen of bas-relief it is impossible to see. It is
singular that with all this nobleness of character, and
being withal a perfect master in his art, this great man—for
certainly he was so in his sphere—should have
looked upon Canova as his rival, and disliked him
with a dislike almost amounting to hatred, whereas
the gentle Canova had no such feeling towards Thorwaldsen.
Their styles, moreover, were so totally different from
each other, that there could be no reason for jealousy
between them. Canova excelled in the female form,
where nothing but elegance, gentleness, and grace are
required, although he by no means failed in the male
figure; whereas Thorwaldsen excelled in that of the male,
where force, manliness, and dignity are mainly requisite.
Both were at the head of their profession in their
respective styles, and both have left behind them
numerous masterpieces of art, which have never been
surpassed in ancient or modern times.
In addition to these celebrities, there were Lawrence,
Chantrey, and Turner, all engaged in their respective
walks of art. These I had known in England, and
I received much kindness and instruction from them,
and enjoyed the greatest pleasure in their delightful
society.
Numerous great houses were at that time open for
the reception of all the celebrities of Roman and foreign
society, to which I had access. Amongst many others
may be mentioned those of the beautiful Princess Borghese,
the Duchess of Devonshire, and Lord William
Bentinck. At the house of the Duchess of Devonshire
I was introduced to the polished courtier and priest,
Cardinal Gonsalvi, at that time Minister of Foreign
Affairs to the Pope, whose graceful manners and
elegant language, combined with a vast fund of information,
enchanted everybody. I also met Thomas
Moore, who enraptured the whole audience by singing
his fresh melodies, with a degree of pathos, taste, and
feeling which was peculiarly his own. Neither must
I forget Lady Morgan, whose lively and constant
prattle afforded much amusement, not altogether destitute
of information.
At the hospitable house of Lord and Lady William
Bentinck I saw the élite of English society, where I was
frequently a welcome guest. Amongst others, appeared
the beautiful Miss Canning, afterwards the Marchioness
Clanricarde, and the silent, amiable, and unfortunate
Lord William Russell, who afterwards fell a victim to
his servant, the assassin Courvoisier.
To enumerate all the agreeable and talented persons
of whom I had the honour of making the acquaintance
at Rome would be foreign to my purpose, and out of
place here. Suffice it to say, that the winter of 1819,
which I passed at Rome, was one of the most agreeable
and instructive of my life, and will ever be remembered
by me with the most lively feelings of satisfaction.
Before leaving I had the honour of being presented to
the benevolent Pius VII., and was much captivated
with his kind and unostentatious reception. After
witnessing the Church ceremonies of Christmas, I left
Rome just before the Carnival. I passed through
Castel Gandolfo, and afterwards came upon the Pontine
Marshes.
The Pontine Marshes consist of a low tract of land,
extending from the elevated ridge of Castel Gandolfo
to a spur of the Apennines, which approach the Mediterranean
near Velletri, being a length of about 20
miles, whilst on the east they are bordered by the
Apennines, from whence numerous streams and torrents
descend into the marshes; and on the west, or sea side,
they are bounded by a line of sandbanks, or dunes,
thrown up by the waves and storms from the west; so
that they form, as it were, a basin into which all the
waters flow, without a natural outfall through which
they can escape. To attempt to make a direct outfall
to the sea was perfectly practicable, but there was
no rise of tide, so that though the outfall would be
considerably improved, there would yet remain the
difficulty of keeping it open, in consequence of the constant
influx of the sand. In similar, and indeed in all
cases of this class, there are two points to be considered,
namely, the water which comes from the highlands, and
that which falls directly upon the lowlands. Now the
former, coming from a higher level, and necessarily
having greater velocity, will naturally descend to the
lowest level, which is the marshes, and will force its
way to the outfall before the lowland water; so that
until the highland water is discharged, the lowland
water, having less inclination, cannot escape, and as
the outfall was extremely deficient, neither the highland
nor lowland water could be discharged, and both combined
accumulated upon the lowlands and flooded them.
It therefore was evident that so long as this state of
things remained it was impossible for the lowlands to
be properly drained, as the outfall was deficient for the
discharge of both waters when combined.
The only feasible mode of attaining the desired
object was to separate them; then, at least, the lowlands
could not be incommoded by the highland water,
and would only have to discharge its own drainage.
Thus, if a catchwater drain had been made along the
base of the highlands, all that water might be discharged
into the sea at any level required, for there is
ample fall or inclination; and if another and separate
outfall had been made for the discharge of the water
falling upon the lowlands, although with much less fall,
it might have been discharged, at least, to a great
degree, if well embanked and of a proper size, because
it would have been unobstructed by the highland
water. But even supposing that any portion of the
lowlands had been below the level of the outfall, this
defect could easily have been remedied by pumping
machines, worked either by wind, animal, or steam
power, connected with main and subsidiary drains
of proper capacity. This plan, which has been so
effectively exemplified in the drainage of the great level
of the Fens and elsewhere, was not adopted, but the
whole of the waters, highland as well as lowland, were
thrown into one drain and outfall, and thus before
the highland water could be discharged, the lowland
water stagnated upon the land. Until Mr. Rennie’s
system is adopted, there never will be a perfect drainage;
and the more imperfect the outfall, the greater is
the necessity for adopting his system.
At Terracina we were terrified with the account of
the brigands whom we should have to encounter in
crossing the spur of the Apennines before we entered
the kingdom of Naples. I here examined the old
Roman port, consisting of two artificial piers of stone
carried out from the shore, with the entrance pointing
west. Both piers are long, and are well constructed of
solid masonry, with a parapet and roadway; there being
large mooring stones, with holes through their extremities,
fixed solidly into the inner or quay walls of each
pier. Upon the whole this is a substantial work, although,
as the piers are curved, they are badly adapted
for breaking the waves on the outside, and for preserving
tranquillity within the harbour. The whole
space within and without the piers was filled up with
sand to within two feet of the quay walls. It is a
common error, even at the present day, to make curved
piers; the consequence is, that when the waves strike
them they accumulate as they move forward, until at
length they break with increased force and carry all
before them. The same takes place with the waves
entering the harbour, which produce such a degree of
agitation within that vessels cannot lie in safety;
whereas by making the piers in several straight arms
the waves strike them on the outside, and they are
broken, and neutralize each other at the angles.
I reached Naples through a road closely patrolled
by soldiers, with blockhouses for ten or twelve men
at very short intervals. Being bound for Greece,
my time was very short, yet I managed to ascend
Vesuvius and visit Herculaneum with Lord Guildford,
as well as the Museo Borbonico as often as
possible.
I examined the modern harbour of Naples, and I doubt
if anything could be more badly designed. There are
two small piers, the entrance between which is difficult;
it is exposed to the prevalent and dangerous winds,
and is scarcely safe inside. This is the more extraordinary,
because the numerous remains of the ancient
harbours of the Romans, dispersed throughout the bay,
might have served as models for a port adapted for all
the requirements of modern trade as well as for war
vessels. The harbour must be improved before Naples
can be provided with that accommodation which her
increasing trade imperatively requires.
I started from Naples with several others on the
31st January, 1820, and after an alarm from a
threatened attack by brigands on the summit of the
pass of Baveno, from which we were rescued by the
timely arrival of the Receiver-General of the province,
on his official journey, accompanied by a numerous
escort of dragoons. We reached Lecce, the capital of
the province, on the evening of the 8th February,
having been eleven days on the journey, a distance of
about 300 miles, rather fatigued, but much pleased with
this novel and interesting country, so seldom visited by
travellers. I alighted at the best hotel in the place,
which was but very indifferent, and the next day
called upon General Church, the Governor of the
province, and was most kindly received by him, he
insisting upon my making his house my home. Here I
again met with Lord Guildford, Lord William Russell,
and Chevalier Bronsted, with whom I had previously
made acquaintance at Rome. Lord Guildford was
on his way to the Ionian Islands on official business,
and Sir Thomas Maitland, the Governor, had ordered a
vessel to be sent to Brindisi to convey his Lordship, who
very civilly offered me and our two mutual friends a
passage. As the vessel was not expected for several
days, we in the meantime became the guests of General
Church, and were most hospitably entertained by him.
General Church was an extraordinary man. He was
below the middle size, about the age of five-and-forty,
extremely well built, spare, sinewy, and active, with a
well-proportioned head, sharp piercing eyes, rather
aquiline nose, and a closely-compressed mouth, denoting
great firmness and resolution. He commanded a regiment
of Albanians and Greeks, as an auxiliary corps
in the British employment, during the great war, and
in that position assisted the operations of the British
cruisers on the coast of Italy; and hence he became subsequently
attached to the army of Lord William Bentinck,
after his conquest of Sicily. Church was a proficient in
the Greek, Italian, and French languages, and, having
considerable military talent, and being a great disciplinarian,
soon brought the rough and savage elements
of which his corps was composed into tolerable order, and
rendered them of considerable service in the wild warfare
in which they were engaged. At the conclusion of the
war he retired on half pay to Naples, where, being well
known to the Government, he was made Governor of
the province of Otranto, at that time overrun with
brigands. Church was appointed to the command with
unlimited control, and by his vigorous and energetic
conduct soon spread terror and dismay amongst them;
he was here, there, and everywhere; when they least
expected, he came upon them suddenly, dispersed them,
and destroyed the leaders without mercy. He had
many narrow escapes himself from sharing the same
fate. Once it is related that he and his aide-de-camp,
Captain Kusini, entered unknowingly a small town,
of which one of the most able and daring brigand
chiefs, with a powerful band of followers, was in possession.
Church, when he found this, determined to
make the best of it, being perfectly aware of his
danger. He entered the chief inn and sent for the
landlord, who recognized him at once, and asked him if
he knew that the brigand chief and his followers were
actually in the town. “Yes,” replied Church, with imperturbable
coolness, “I am come expressly to meet him;
tell him that I want to see him immediately.” The
brigand chief accordingly came, astonished to see the
General, whom he least expected; he began to be
alarmed, thinking he was surrounded. The General,
addressing the brigand by name, informed him that
there was no chance of his escape, but that if he and
his followers would surrender, he would pardon them
and get them employed in the King’s army. The
brigand chief and his men declined this generous offer.
Church then told him that he was sorry, for their own
sakes, as in future they could expect no mercy. The
brigand and his followers then withdrew, determined
on their side to show no quarter to the troops if ever
they should get them within their power; but for the
moment, being ignorant of Church’s position, they were
afraid to attack him, little supposing that he was at
that time theirs. This extraordinary interview having
terminated, Church felt that he had played the game far
enough, and the sooner he and his aide-de-camp made
their escape the better. The landlord, fortunately for
them, kept the secret. The General and his aide-de-camp
escaped by the back of the house, climbed over
some fences, reached their horses, and then galloped off,
never pulling bridle until they had reached their own
followers, who, when they heard what had passed,
were astonished at their escape, which was due alone
to the coolness and courage of the General. Scarcely
had Church and his aide-de-camp departed when the
brigand and his followers learned how completely they
had been deceived, and at once set off in pursuit; but
they were soon obliged to retreat, being themselves
pursued by a superior force, from which they narrowly
escaped capture; the band was afterwards destroyed.
This is but one out of the numerous instances of Church’s
extraordinary adventures. In a short time he extirpated
brigandism, the province regained its tranquillity,
and the people pursued their several employments in
peace without fear of molestation, blessing the General
who had relieved them from their oppressors.
Being particularly desirous of seeing Brindisi, from
my recollections of Horace, I obtained an escort of two
dragoons from General Church, for, said he, “You may
meet some unwelcome visitors on the way; but if they
see the uniform of my dragoons they will not trouble
you with their acquaintance.” Brindisi, which I need
not now describe, struck me as being an excellent port
on the whole, and now that it is made the terminus of
the railway from Naples, which connects it with the
entire railway system of Europe, it will no doubt
become a place of considerable importance.
I embarked with Lord and Lady Guildford and others
in a Government vessel, and reached Corfu on the
27th February. The day was fine, and we were much
struck with the beauty of the surrounding sea and
mountains, together with the view of the magnificent
inlet forming the harbour of Corfu, comprising as it
did the ancient and picturesque town on the bold outline
of St. Salvador and the rich undulating fields.
As this was the first time I had seen anything of
Greece, I particularly remarked the handsome appearance
of the population and their picturesque costume.
There was nothing worthy of notice in the town
except the old fortifications, so that I determined to
make my stay as short as possible and take the first
conveyance for Zante, and from thence to the mainland
of Greece. Corfu, having been under so many
different governments, partook in some measure of the
character of all—Turkish, Venetian, Russian, French,
English, but the ruling feature was Greek and Albanian.
Our Government, urged on by that amiable,
excellent, and enthusiastic person, the late Lord Guildford,
had determined to establish an university at Zante,
to revive classical learning, and Lord Guildford was
appointed Lord Rector. He was an excellent scholar
and linguist, and a most good-natured person; he was
anything but a man of the world, and little acquainted
with the real character of the modern Greeks. Sir
Thomas Maitland, the Lord Chief Commissioner and
Governor of the islands, was a totally different character,
and knew the Greeks well. He was a stern, uncompromising
soldier, with great talent, courage, and
firmness, joined to long experience in war, politics, and
governing mankind in every part of the world; he was
not to be deceived by plausible appearances; to use his
own phrase, he would stand no humbug, and would
make his commands obeyed, although he was a strict
administrator of justice. He treated Lord Guildford’s
plan with great ridicule. “They were clever and
learned enough, but they had already a great deal to
unlearn; the first thing was to make them honest and
obedient to the law.” When Sir Thomas became Lord
Chief Commissioner of the Ionian Islands, the population
was in a most disorganized state; pillage, murder,
and piracy, were very common, and the malefactors
were triumphant, and defied the law. It therefore
required a strong hand to keep them in order, and
Sir Thomas was just the man to do it—which he did.
Under his strict but just rule they soon became more
manageable, as they found he would not be trifled with.
On the day after my arrival I left my card at the
palace, and received an invitation to dine with him
on the 2nd March. I had taken no letter of introduction
to him, although he knew my father; but I had
previously heard that he disliked nothing so much
as letters of introduction, and seldom paid them any
respect, even when coming from the highest quarters.
I accordingly made my appearance at the palace
punctually at the time appointed, and soon after a brilliant
assemblage was collected, in full costume, all
waiting for the Governor. He shortly after appeared
in full uniform, covered with orders. He was a
rather fine-looking man, about sixty-five, of the middle
size, with a strong, square, well-built, well-proportioned,
figure. His countenance and speech betrayed
his Scotch origin; and his large bluish-grey eyes
shaded by shaggy eyebrows, his well developed nose,
and compressed mouth, evinced a decided strength of
will. His speech was terse and blunt, but with a
strange mixture of kindness and severity, and altogether
he was evidently made to command and be
respected. I kept in the background, but he came up to
me, and in his dry Scotch manner said, “I suppose you
are Mr. Rennie; and pray, sir, may I ask what brought
you to this country?” “To study the antiquities of
ancient Greece.” He at once replied, with a certain
degree of vehemence, “A pack of nonsense; gang awa’
back to your worthy father in England, he will teach
you more in two days than ye will learn here in all your
life.” Then, shaking me very cordially by the hand, he
said, “But I am very glad to see you, and if I can do
anything for you I shall be very happy, for your gude
father’s sake.” Dinner was then announced, and a
capital dinner we had, Sir Thomas making himself very
agreeable, and cracking his Scotch jokes right and left
with a great deal of glee. I sat nearly at the bottom of
the table, and immediately opposite to me was Colonel
Napier, afterwards the celebrated Sir Charles Napier of
Scinde. I was much struck with his countenance; his
keen piercing eyes, his prominent aquiline nose, and
his restless, quivering lips, marked him out as a
man of great character. I said to myself, if opportunity
offers, that man will much distinguish himself
hereafter, and time has shown that I was not mistaken.
Sir Thomas is reported to have said, “Napier
is a great Radical, and a friend to liberty and equality;
he has considerable talents, and I will give him an
opportunity of showing himself, and I will wager that
before six months are over there will be a petition
to the House of Commons against him for tyranny and
oppression of the people.” Sir Thomas was a true prophet;
he made Colonel Napier Governor of the island
of Cephalonia; a most troublesome set he had to deal
with, and he was obliged to use harsh measures to bring
them under control; true enough a petition was got
up by the inhabitants of the island complaining of
him for his severity and cruelty, and requesting the
Government to remove him from his command. When
Sir Thomas heard of this he laughed heartily, and said,
to his staff, “Did not I tell you so? the Radicals, however
much they may preach about liberty and equality,
are always the greatest tyrants.” Sir Thomas was held
in high respect at head-quarters, and whenever he
went to England and asked for instructions at the
Colonial Office, was told to write them for himself, as
the Government had entire confidence in him.
I here made the acquaintance of Captain Smyth, of
the Navy, and his amiable and accomplished wife.
Captain Smyth was then employed in making a survey
of the Ionian Islands for the British Government, which
was afterwards published; and certainly for elaborateness
of detail and completeness of execution it has
seldom been surpassed. Every plate is ornamented
with a view of the architectural remains of the most
remarkable buildings in the district, and also views of
the coast, which were drawn by Mrs. Smyth with great
taste, beauty, and fidelity, and form an important feature
in this great work. Captain (afterwards Admiral)
Smyth was a man of considerable scientific acquirements;
and after having been most actively employed
in different parts of the world (always with distinction),
he retired to Bedford, where he erected an observatory,
and published his celebrated astronomical observations,
which, in addition to his public service, entitle him to
a high place among literary, scientific, and professional
men. He was of a most amiable and jovial disposition,
ever ready for fun and amusement whenever they did
not interfere with his duties; he was, moreover, always
ready to serve a friend, and was universally beloved
and respected by his numerous acquaintance. For myself,
I regarded him as a valuable and sincere friend,
whose loss I afterwards most deeply regretted.
Count Lunzi, one of the Greek nobles, a most agreeable
and talented young man, and a large proprietor on
the island, who had travelled with us, invited me to his
country house, and I set off with my friend the Chevalier
Bronsted to pay him a visit on the following day,
the 10th February. We started on horseback on a fine
day, and after riding through a rich, level plain for
about ten miles, we reached the volcanic pitch-wells,
and on our return found Count Lunzi awaiting our
arrival at his Villa Sarachina. He received us most
cordially, and conducted us into the house, and we
were introduced to his family, by whom we were most
hospitably entertained. We then took a kind farewell
of our host at 5 P.M., mounted our horses, and proceeded
homewards. At first we rode along leisurely,
and gradually quickened our pace; at last we got into
a full gallop. My horse, which was little better than a
pony, although a very handsome, strong, well-made
animal, by this time became so excited that he fairly
got the better of me, and proceeded at a furious rate, so
that I lost all control over him. Away he went helter-skelter
over land and water, driving all before him. In
vain I attempted to stop him. At last, finding it useless,
I let him have his way; and arriving at the bay
of Zante, he made direct for the sea. I allowed him to
proceed until he began to swim; then, finding he was
in no disposition to return, I dismounted, and partly
swam, partly waded ashore, where I awaited his
return; he soon got tired of swimming, and came to
land. I then caught him, and mounted, and returned
to Zante. My friend Bronsted, who was completely distanced,
joined me as I remounted, and we rode back
together. As we entered the town I saw a number of
soldiers looking on and laughing; I did not know why.
But it appeared that this pony was noted throughout
the place for his tricks, and they wondered how,
after venturing upon his back (which I certainly
should not have done if I had known his vicious character),
I had come back safe and sound. However, I
had punished him pretty well, and he became quieter
afterwards. We had a hearty laugh at the adventure;
and, being thoroughly drenched to the skin, I changed
my clothes, and joined Sir Patrick Ross’s dinner-party,
when again everybody laughed at me, and congratulated
me upon my happy escape.
Before quitting this subject I cannot help saying a
few words about my friend Bronsted, the Dane. He
was a most excellent person, and a first-rate scholar
and antiquary, well known for his researches. He had
acquired some most valuable bronzes, being portions of
helmets found at Cortona, of which he published an
elaborate account. The figures and other ornaments
are most elaborate in design and execution; in fact,
they are masterpieces of art, and were afterwards
bought by the British Museum (for a considerable sum),
where, I believe, they still remain.
I made several other excursions to various parts of
the island; amongst others, to the top of the mountain
which forms the south-west promontory of the
bay. The summit rises far above the Mediterranean,
and the view from it is magnificent, commanding
the whole of the beautiful island, which lies at its base
like a rich garden, and some other islands and adjacent
coasts.
The inhabitants are a good-looking, active, and
industrious race, but, like their neighbours, inclined to
be very turbulent, and require to be kept in order by
the strong arm of the law.
While here, just at the equinox, we had, as usual,
some very severe storms; and one night I was roused
from my sleep with a violent shaking of the bed, which
lasted several seconds. It was at the same time raining
tremendously, and blowing very hard, accompanied by
violent thunder and lightning. I jumped out of bed,
not knowing what it was; the house trembled, and I
thought it was coming down. The other inmates were
also alarmed. After waiting anxiously for some time
the storm abated. I went to bed again, and slept
soundly until morning, and then inquired of the landlord
the cause, when he informed me that it was the
shock of an earthquake, which they frequently felt in
the island; and on the following day we learned that
the same earthquake had been most severely felt at the
neighbouring island of Santa Maura, that many houses
had been thrown down, and a number of the unfortunate
inhabitants destroyed. I had frequently been
told by persons who had lived in volcanic countries of
the extraordinary sensation produced by earthquakes
on the human frame, but until I had experienced it I
never could appreciate its effects; certainly they are
most remarkable; the whole nervous system is convulsed,
and one fancies that the last hour has arrived,
so that it takes some time before the system recovers its
usual tone. I certainly should not wish to experience
another shock, and was extremely happy to have
escaped with nothing more than a shaking and a severe
fright.
Having now spent fourteen days very agreeably,
being most kindly entertained by the Governor,
Sir Patrick Ross, the officers of the 75th, and others,
and having seen enough of Zante, I was anxious to
proceed on my journey, only waiting for a vessel to
take me to Greece, when fortunately I heard that
an English mercantile brig, commanded by Captain
Burgess, a rough old Scotchman, was about to sail for
Patras, so I at once took my leave of Sir Patrick
Ross, his family, and all my other kind friends, packed
up my baggage, embarked at 3 P.M. on the 23rd March,
and bade adieu to Zante. After a pleasant passage,
but rough accommodation, we arrived at the entrance
to the Gulf of Corinth, and anchored in the roadstead
about a mile from the shore. I paid my passage,
landed, proceeded up to the town, called upon Mr.
Green, the Consul, and soon found tolerably comfortable
quarters in a Greek house, but the beds were
sadly infested with bugs, which annoyed me much.
Before leaving Zante, I ought to say that I here
engaged a Greek, who had been well recommended to
me. His name was Demetrius Papandriopolo. He was
about thirty-five, of the middle size, sharp, active,
sober, intelligent, and honest, and served me faithfully
through the greater part of my journey, for above
twelve months, until I returned to Malta on my way
back to England. I found him a most valuable servant,
and he rendered me the most essential services.
Patras was then a trading town of some importance,
in fact, the principal one in the Morea, and it contained
a considerable number of inhabitants, almost
wholly Greeks, without including the Turkish garrison.
It is situated on a hill about a quarter of a
mile from the gulf of the same name, where there is
a small rubble jetty for boats to land their goods, &c.
The roadstead outside is safe and well protected. The
town is surrounded by a rich, fertile plain, well cultivated
with olives, vines, and currants. The entrance
to the Gulf of Corinth is protected by two old castles, the
distance between them being about a mile and a half;
and three miles east is the modern town of Lepanto (it
was formerly the ancient Naupactus), celebrated for the
victory over the Turks by John of Austria; it contains
2000 souls; the surrounding views are very fine. The
town was under the command of a Turkish Governor,
and is situated upon the side of a hill rising to
the east, encompassed by a rude wall and ditch, and
crowned at the summit by a citadel, in which the
Governor and the garrison resided. Besides the citadel
there were no remarkable buildings of any kind: the
streets were narrow and dirty. There were a few
mosques interspersed here and there, whose graceful
minarets, rising above the mass, gave the place a
most picturesque appearance. The town contained
numerous bazaars, where all the trade of the place
was carried on, and the neighbourhood of the main
street was filled with cafés, crowded with Greeks,
Turks, Ionians, French, English, and various other
nations, all smoking their long pipes, drinking coffee,
sherbet, and various other liquors, apparently in great
comfort. The Turk, as lord supreme, moved leisurely
about with the most solemn dignity, having the
greatest contempt for his neighbours, and every now
and then, as a Christian passed by, he greeted him
with a lofty scowl, as if he considered him unworthy
of notice, uttering the simple word Giaour! and
passed on without further ceremony. I frequently
wandered amongst the bazaars, then to me a perfectly
novel sight, and was much amused with the
gravity and solemn dignity with which the Turks
sat cross-legged behind their counters; if you asked
for any of their wares, they quietly, with a monosyllable,
ordered their assistant to show it to you, as
if they considered it a favour. This was so different
to what I had been accustomed to in the civil, well-bred
shopkeepers in Europe, that I could not help
laughing outright, which I soon found would not do,
as it gave great offence.
One morning, whilst walking along the shore in
front of the roadstead, whom should I stumble upon
but my old friend Captain Smyth, who had come to
Patras on a surveying expedition in one of the small
auxiliary boats attached to his larger vessel, which lay
at anchor in the roadstead. This auxiliary boat,
although small, was fitted up with every convenience
for the purpose, and adapted to enter shoal water, in
order to complete the details of the survey. In this
he was accompanied by one or two assistants, and a
few men to work it, so that he could be absent from
his ship for several days without inconvenience. Captain
Smyth was delighted to see me, and asked me to
dine with him on board his boat, and I agreed to, with
great pleasure. I accordingly went there at the time
appointed, and amongst the guests met Captain Hunter
and his wife, and our worthy Consul (Mr. Green).
We had a most cordial welcome and an excellent
dinner, and afterwards passed a delightful evening.
Towards sunset we adjourned to the beach in order to
take ices, which we got from the town, and enjoy ourselves
by smoking our cigars. Whilst we were thus
happily seated, laughing and talking together, we were
surrounded by numerous Greeks from the town,
amongst whom were several Turkish soldiers, armed
to the teeth, and carrying their long pipes, which they
never abandoned for a moment. The jolly old Captain
said, “Now I will astonish these fellows,” and immediately
dispatched one of his officers for his seven-barrelled
pistol, which was brought, and duly loaded. He
then told his interpreter to inform the Turks that this
was a pistol which he could discharge as many times as
he liked without reloading. The Turks held up their
hands in astonishment, exclaimed “In Shallah!” and
with a scornful look at us, said such a thing was not
possible. Smyth, however, at once rose from his seat,
deliberately discharging his pistol one, two, three, four,
five, and six times, to the utter amazement of the
Turks, who could scarcely believe what they saw.
He then, with the utmost coolness, asked whether they
were convinced, to which they all replied, with the
exclamation of “In Shallah!” perfectly so. Smyth
then offered them coffee and ices, of which they readily
partook, and, after a hearty salutation and shaking of
hands, they returned to the town, saying what wonderful
people these Ingleses are. This pistol resembled
the modern Colt revolver, although differing in some
particulars. Before leaving I visited the celebrated
cypress tree, three miles to westward. Its base is
about 40 feet in circumference, and it is 35 to 40
feet high, the upper part having been blown off
during a gale. I also visited St. Andrea, where
were the remains of the well and some fragments of
sculpture.
I took leave of my excellent and talented friend, the
Captain, and determined to start the next day, the 27th
of March. Upon returning to my quarters at Patras, I
was informed that there was a French gentleman of the
name of Prevot, an artist, who was about proceeding to
Athens to make a panoramic view of that city, and was
desirous of knowing whether I would allow him to
accompany me. Finding him a very agreeable person,
and having been introduced by Mr. Green, and being
glad of a companion upon my lonely and novel journey,
I willingly consented to his joining me.
Having got all my baggage on board, attended by my
servant Demetrius, we started early on the following
morning, the 27th, at seven. The day was unfortunately
very rough, with violent gusts of wind, heavy rain,
accompanied by thunder and lightning; notwithstanding
which we started on our journey, and when we got
into the gulf there was a heavy swell (which threatened
at times to overwhelm the boat and all in it),
with baffling winds, which materially retarded our
progress. We struggled on all day: at last our boatmen
said that it was impossible to proceed farther;
we therefore determined to run ashore, and finish
our journey the next day. We accordingly did so,
and landed in a small bay, the only safe one on
the south side, near Vostizza, at about four o’clock
in the afternoon, two hours before sunset. Then
came the question, where were we to sleep? Vostizza
was about one or two miles distant, and there were
no means of transporting our baggage there; and
to leave it in the boat was to expose it to being
plundered, as the boatmen said they would not be
responsible for it, in consequence of the numerous bad
characters lurking about, pirates, robbers, &c. As
there was no possibility of getting our things to Vostizza,
and there were the remains of a convent (which
had been ruined by an earthquake) close by on the
shore, on a cliff about 50 feet above the gulf, I proposed
at once that we should place our things there,
and sleep, to which my companion, who was very
tired and sick of the voyage, readily consented. We
got the boatmen to land the things, and place them
in the convent; but when we got there, to our
great surprise and mortification, found that it was
uninhabited and half in ruins. There was no alternative,
however, as there was no other building near us;
so we made the best of it, and prepared to pass the
night there. We went upstairs, explored the ruined
building all over, and at length we discovered one
large room tolerably perfect, and capable of keeping
out the rain. This we chose for our night’s quarters,
placed the baggage in order, and then commenced to
prepare our supper. Upon examining our provisions,
such as we had, we found them considerably damaged
by the wet and unfit for use. I then decided that
Demetrius and myself should go to the bazaar of
Vostizza, and purchase what we could get, whilst we
left M. Prevot in charge in the convent; and I gave
the boatmen some money on account to provide themselves
for the night where they could: the boat,
everything having been taken out, was firmly moored
to the shore.
Demetrius and myself went to Vostizza, and returned
to the convent just after dark, laden with a bag well
furnished with wine and provisions, the best we could
get, and immediately set about preparing our mattresses
for beds, and lighting a good fire to cook the supper.
Demetrius was a capital cook, and about nine o’clock
had got ready an excellent repast. Having had
scarcely anything all day, and being miserably wet and
cold, after having washed, and dressed in dry things,
with a roaring wood fire before us, we enjoyed our
supper excessively, forgot all discomforts, and about
eleven lay down upon our mattresses for the night.
Before doing this, warned by what our boatmen told us
of the insecurity of the place, we fastened the door of our
room as well as we could with an English padlock, and
placed our heavy baggage and the table against the
door, examined the priming of our pistols, which were
well loaded, and lay down to sleep. My mattress was
placed immediately opposite to the door, Demetrius
was in the other corner, and M. Prevot near the fireplace,
with an understanding between us that if any
noise occurred during the night we were not to leave
our berths, for fear of mistaking each other for an
enemy. We slept tolerably sound until about two o’clock
in the morning, when I awoke and thought I heard
the movement of footsteps on the landing outside
our door. We had kept a light burning all night. I
listened again attentively, and thought I heard voices
outside, then something like a push against the door.
I awakened my companions, and told them to be ready
with pistols, but not to fire until we were attacked, and
then if possible to keep our positions. I had scarcely
done this when a violent attack was made against the
door, which in a moment was burst in, the table,
portmanteaus, &c., being hurled into the middle of
the room; this was immediately followed by a rush of
several armed men. I instantly fired into the midst
of them, Demetrius seconded me by another shot, and I
repeated mine. We then heard a shriek as if somebody
was wounded, and the whole of our assailants
precipitately beat a retreat, scampering down the stairs
as rapidly as possible. I reloaded, and we jumped up,
rushed to the stair-head, and were going to follow them,
but upon second thoughts we considered it best to remain
where we were. We then secured the door again
and tried to sleep, but in vain; we therefore lay watching
until daylight, when our boatmen called us, and we
prepared to depart, rejoicing heartily at our lucky escape
from being robbed and murdered, as we assuredly should
have been if we had not been armed and defended ourselves
so stoutly. Before leaving, we examined the
landing and stairs, and discovered some traces of blood,
so that some one must have been wounded. Our boatmen
told us that we had a very narrow escape; they
said that they would not have slept there, and indeed
told us before that we had better not, as there were
numerous pirates and rascals in the vicinity, who waylaid
all travellers, and seldom allowed them to escape
even with their lives.
Early in the morning, which was very fine after the
storm, we set sail with a fair wind, and bid adieu to
Vostizza, with a remembrance of its inhospitable shore
not likely to be soon forgotten. We had a delightful
voyage, and enjoyed the beautiful mountain scenery on
both sides of the gulf with much satisfaction, and reached
the custom-house of Corinth, three miles from the town,
before the close of the day. We then discharged our
boatmen, and finding no horses, were obliged to stop at
this nasty, wretched place, and passed a most miserable
night. Next morning, the 29th, having got horses, we
started at eight and reached the caravanserai at Corinth
at nine, and having breakfasted and dressed, called upon
the Bey, who received us very civilly. We wandered
about all day examining the place and its antiquities. I
arose early in the morning, awakened by the Muezzin as
he was calling the faithful to prayers from the galleries
of the minarets attached to the mosques. I had not
heard this at Patras, having slept too late, and therefore
it appeared to me for the first time most novel
and singular. I listened to it with peculiar interest, as
the contrast was so different to our own, where this
office is performed by bells. On the same day, after
breakfast, I examined the town, a poor miserable place
domineered over by the Turks, with no trade, and the
wonder was how the people lived. There was nothing
worthy of examination except the beautiful remains of
the Temple of Venus, of the simple, severe, yet commanding
Doric order. A few columns only were left,
surmounted by the cornice and entablature; these
have been so often measured and engraved, that it is
unnecessary to say more about them here, except that
they are eminently beautiful, and an excellent specimen
of that bold and expressive style of architecture. I
was anxious to mount the Acropolis, crowned by an
old fort and garrisoned by Turks, but this was not permitted:
I regretted it much, for, seated as it is on a
commanding eminence, eighteen hundred feet above
the level of the adjoining gulf, the view over the sea
and the fine mountainous surrounding country must be
magnificent; but the Turks in those days were so proud,
insolent, and domineering, that the sight of a Christian
was an abhorrence to them, and one was glad to get out
of their way, although even then they had considerable
respect for the English, more indeed than any other
nation; for we had saved them from the French and
had protected them against the encroachment of the
Russians, who had already begun to be very troublesome.
Having nothing further to see, we were anxious
to get away as early as possible.
There were two routes to Athens, to which we were
destined, one entirely by land over the isthmus, the
other by sea, after crossing the six miles of isthmus
which separates the Corinthian Gulf from the Ægean
Sea. We determined therefore to take the latter, and
on the 30th March, having engaged the necessary
number of horses, and loaded them after a considerable
wrangling and noise with their keepers, started at 1 P.M.
for Recrees Ceneres, on the borders of the Ægean Sea.
At 3 P.M., in crossing the isthmus, we came upon the
remains of the wall said to have been built by the
Venetians for preventing the incursions of the Turks
into the Morea. Here we dismounted, and engaged one
of the boats of the country and embarked. However,
as there was little or no wind, we were out all night,
and did not reach the Piræus before four o’clock in the
afternoon of the 31st. This is a fine natural port, but
the town was then a miserable place, surrounded by a
few wretched buildings, at the head of which was a
Turkish custom-house, where the authorities at first
made considerable opposition to our landing. However,
I soon silenced them with a respectable backshish, or
present, when they became as civil as possible, and not
only allowed us to land with our baggage, but did not
subject us to any examination; we therefore at once
inquired for horses to take us to Athens, but finding
none to be had, were obliged to remain that night in a
wretched plastered room at the custom-house. Next
day, 1st April, having got horses, we started at six,
with no end of wrangling with muleteers, which the
Turks soon silenced by laying about right and left, to
our great amusement. I at once interfered, and rewarded
the Turks with another backshish, when they
heartily saluted me, and we started without further
molestation, and reached Athens, six miles distant,
over a miserable road, within an hour and a half, at
half-past seven o’clock. There were then no hotels, so
we took up our quarters at the house of a respectable
Greek, Toagrafos, with but poor accommodation. I
by this time had become so accustomed to bad fare
and lodging that I did not mind it, but my friend,
the French artist, was not so easily satisfied; we
therefore parted, and he endeavoured to find better
apartments elsewhere. I never met him again, and
consequently do not know how he succeeded with his
panorama, or whether he ever completed it, but I heard
that about a year afterwards a panorama of Greece had
been exhibited at Paris with considerable success. I
hoped that it was that of my friend, for he appeared
to be an excellent person, and was certainly a very
pleasant companion, with all the characteristic ardour
and enthusiasm of his countrymen. He had never
been out of France before, and therefore felt the désagréments
of the journey a great deal more than I did;
nevertheless, by the time he reached Athens he had
become tolerably well accustomed to it, and, with the
usual French sang froid, made up his mind to it, and
enjoyed the journey as much as myself.
We arrived at Athens on Friday, the 1st April, in
the midst of spring; the weather was delightful, the
sun shining brightly, the sky cloudless, the vegetation
bursting into full luxuriance, the plain and mountains
covered with flowers and shrubs of the most brilliant
and varied hues. Nature seemed to be in all her glory,
and man to sympathize with her. I was in most
exuberant spirits, and was pleased with everything
around me. The beauty of the country, and the very
idea that I was in Athens, which from my boyhood I
was most anxious to see, and which I scarcely ever
expected to behold, aroused me to such a pitch of enthusiasm
that I could scarcely believe my eyes; which
was not extraordinary, considering the brilliant and
memorable scene which burst upon my sight, and by
which I was surrounded. I soon sallied forth again,
called upon the English and Austrian consuls and
delivered my letters, and hurried about all day, taking
a hasty view of the Parthenon, the Temple of Theseus,
Jupiter Olympus, and the Temple of the Winds, which
I admired excessively; then, thoroughly tired and
exhausted, I returned to my lodgings, took a hasty
supper and went to bed, dreaming of the glories of
ancient Greece. After breakfast I went out, and at
once made my way to the Acropolis, where the glorious
Parthenon stood out prominently. I was riveted to the
spot with admiration, and could go no farther. At last
I came to myself, and found the scorching rays of the
sun rather more than agreeable. I then returned to
my quarters, dined, reposed during the heat of the day,
and towards evening I again sallied forth, and enjoyed
a magnificent sunset, such as I had been totally
unaccustomed to in our frigid climate of England.
I again went to the Acropolis the following day, and
there enjoyed the splendid scene. The Acropolis is
a detached rock, standing high above the plain or
valley on which Athens is situated; upon this rock is
the citadel, where the Parthenon, the Erechtheum, and
all the other principal buildings are placed, and in
addition to this it is a citadel or fortress, where, in case
of attack, and the city below being taken, the Acropolis
would form a refuge for the garrison and the inhabitants.
From the summit you command a view of the
country all around: on the north Mount Olympus and
the Pindus range of mountains; on the south the
Mediterranean, the island of Syra, and several others;
on the east the plain of Athens, flanked by Mount
Hymettus, and Mount Hybla on the north; on the
west the Piræus, the Ægean Sea, and the mountains
of the Peloponnesus or Morea; in fact, whichever
way you look, the view is delightful, and you are
satisfied.
I at once removed into a new lodging in a Greek
house, which appeared tolerably clean and comfortable
but as usual I found it full of fleas, which tormented
me day and night. However, when I went to bed I
hit upon a plan to relieve me at least of a good many
of them, which fortunately proved successful. I placed
a number of large plates filled with oil, having a wick
in them; I then lighted the wicks, and the fleas,
attracted by this, leaped into the plates, which in the
morning were black with them, and by this means I
got rid of the greatest part, and at length enjoyed
some comfort.
I now determined to study the antiquities more
at leisure, and set regularly about it. Every morning,
immediately after breakfast, I proceeded to the
Acropolis, and employed myself in drawing and
measuring the Parthenon, Erechtheum, and other
buildings until dinner time; and after, in the evening,
I took walks and rides round the adjacent country.
Having finished the Acropolis, I then proceeded to
the Temples of Theseus and Jupiter Olympus, the
Temple of the Winds, and the other antiquities, which
occupied me about a month. All these splendid
specimens of architecture have been so accurately described
in the elaborate works of Stuart, Cockerell,
Dodwell, Gell, and others, that it is unnecessary to
describe them here. With regard to the Piræus, and the
other ports of Athens, I examined them minutely, and
for plans and description of them I refer to my work
on ‘British and Foreign Harbours.’ I also saw a little
of Athenian society. Amongst others, I made the
acquaintance of the Maid of Athens (so celebrated by
Byron), who was very pretty, ladylike, and agreeable.
I was also most kindly received by Mr. Gropeus, the
Austrian Consul, Mr. Logotheti, the English Consul,
and by the well-known artist, Mr. Luzieri, who had
made some fine views of Athens for Lord Elgin.
The Turks treated the Greeks with great contempt
and very little ceremony. By way of illustration,
I was present at the arrival of a new Governor or
Vaivode. His Excellency came mounted on a beautiful
white Arabian horse, surrounded by about a hundred
well-mounted cavalry, all in the magnificent Turkish
costume of the day; next there followed the hareem,
in crimson-coloured carriages, each slung between
two horses, and escorted on foot by numerous eunuchs
and blacks, all splendidly attired; then the baggage,
which was carried on the backs of horses, led and
guarded by Greeks, mixed with Turkish soldiers on
foot. The whole town turned out to witness the sight
and welcome their new Governor, who scarcely deigned
to look at them; whilst the attendants going before
cleared the way with sticks, which they by no means
used sparingly, dealing their blows right and left on
everyone within reach. A number of Turkish lads
amongst the crowd amused themselves by firing off
their guns and pistols, which were loaded with ball
and shot. They took no care which way they fired;
sometimes in the air, sometimes on the ground, and
sometimes straight forward amongst the crowd; of
course everybody got out of the way, myself amongst
the number. I saw one Greek who had his leg broken
by a shot from a Turkish lad near me, at which he, the
Turk, and the whole of his companions, shouted with
joy, and seemed to think it great fun: at this I could
not restrain my indignation, and being armed with a
good stout stick, I rushed amongst them, striking right
and left: some Greeks tried to stop me, but I stuck to
them, and had the satisfaction of seeing that no more
shots were fired except in the air. Nothing impressed
the Turks with so much respect as courage and vigour;
the more you humbled yourself, the more they bullied
you, being anything but fond of fighting. I found from
experience that this was the only way to treat them;
for though frequently amongst them, and under the
most trying circumstances, I was rarely molested.
Afterwards I witnessed the entrance of the Pacha
of Negropont, which was in the same style, but upon
a more extended scale.
I occasionally visited the convents, inhabited by a
few worthy monks, who kindly receive strangers and
lodge and board them for a moderate sum. The
situation is excellent, being in the higher part of the
town, close to the beautiful remains of the Temple of
the Winds, with a splendid view. Athens at the time
of my visit was a poor miserable place, without an inn
worthy of the name. It was surrounded by a crenellated
wall, which even the artillery of that day would
have demolished with a few rounds of shot. The
Ilyssus and Cephisus are trifling streams, which, passing
on the south side of the town, discharge their waters
into the sea a few miles below. During summer there
is scarcely any water, as it is conducted away by different
channels for irrigation, so that the beds of these
two rivulets are dry.
Having explored Athens sufficiently for my purpose,
I determined to make a tour of the Morea, and accordingly
hired a small decked vessel of about 30 tons to
cross the Ægean Sea, leaving Athens for the Piræus
on the 25th of March; and after waiting some time on
board in the harbour, at seven on the 25th started,
reached Ægina at eight, landed after breakfast, and proceeded
on foot to the Temple of Jupiter, on a hill about
a mile from the shore. We spent here nearly three
hours measuring and examining the remains of this
beautiful specimen of Greek architecture, and sketching
the surrounding picturesque scenery; then started for
the town and port of Ægina, whither I had sent the
vessel to meet us, and was told that the distance was only
three or four miles, which turned out to be nearly twelve,
over a rough path, so that we did not reach Ægina until
nearly 6 P.M., very tired and hungry, having had no
lunch. The Temple of Jupiter is a fine specimen of the
Doric, and is well described in Mr. C. R. Cockerell’s
excellent work, to which the reader is referred. The
small town of Ægina is situated about the middle of
the west side of the island, facing the Morea, from
which it is separated by a channel about eight or
ten miles wide. The town and island of Ægina were
governed by a Vaivode, who had a few Turkish soldiers,
and was inhabited chiefly by fishermen and small traders.
The surrounding country is hilly, with fertile valleys
producing olives, vines, and grain, and beans of several
kinds; and there are a few sheep and goats.
The next morning, the 26th March, I rose early and
examined the port, which consisted of two artificial
harbours, formed by two piers, each carried out from
the shore, enclosing a considerable space of water, with
a depth of about 10 or 12 feet. This was made by the
ancients, and Mr. Cockerell gave me a plan of it, which
is inserted in my work on ‘British and Foreign Harbours.’
It was then blowing very hard north-west and
contrary; however, soon after noon the wind abated,
when we embarked, and arrived at the little port or
bay of Pilascro, the ancient Epidauros, on the opposite
shore of the Morea, about five o’clock in the afternoon.
Here we disembarked, and walked round the place,
and could only discover what appeared to be the
remains of a bath, and some mutilated figures near it;
and a little farther some similar remains, but nothing
remarkable; so that it would require considerable time
to make anything out of them. In Sir W. Gell’s
‘Itinerary of the Morea’ what is there is well described.
We slept on board. On the 27th we rose at daylight,
and found that the baggage horses, Greek servants,
and an excellent Arabian horse, which I bought at
Athens, and which I sent round by land, had arrived
at Epidauros. Having disembarked our baggage
and discharged the vessel, we loaded the baggage
on the horses, after which we started for Napoli di
Romania, a small town situated on the Gulf of Argos,
not many miles distant from Epidauros, through an
undulating, picturesque, and rich country. On account
of the guide taking the wrong road, we were obliged
to stop at the village of Tero, where there are a considerable
number of Roman and Greek remains.
On Friday, 28th March, we started at half-past six,
and at noon reached the picturesque fortress of Napoli
di Romania, on the east side of the Gulf of Argos,
situated on a lofty hill commanding the entrance to
the gulf. The miserable town lay beneath the citadel,
which, as well as the town itself, was strongly fortified
according to the Venetian system, and was a place of
considerable strength, garrisoned by a set of bigoted
Turkish troops, imbued with a thorough hatred of
Christians, so that I was strongly advised not to stop
there. There was, however, no alternative, as there
was no other place near. I therefore rode into the
town, and took up my quarters at the English Vice-Consul’s,
who was a Greek. Immediately after my
arrival I went out, and tried to get into the citadel, in
order to have a view of the town and surrounding
country, which was very fine, but the Turks refused
me admittance in the most insolent manner, and
told me to get about my business as quickly as possible.
I found that it was of no use to attempt to
proceed farther, and returned at once to the town, and
after having examined it, and found nothing worthy
of notice, returned to my lodgings. Here the Vice-Consul
came to me in a great fright, and said that
the Turks had been much annoyed at my arrival,
and that I must depart directly; strongly urging me
to do so, as he said that he could not protect me, and if
I stayed he would not be responsible for the consequences.
I replied that as it was night it was too
late to depart then, but that I would do so the next
morning at daybreak. To this he consented. I accordingly
supped, and went to bed. On the following
morning my servant and myself were in the saddle
before daybreak, and were at the gates of the fortress
waiting for them to be opened. In Turkish fortresses
at that day it was the custom to make every foreigner
and Greek dismount and walk over the drawbridge. I
thought that this was degrading, and determined not
to do it. As soon, therefore, as the gates were opened,
and the drawbridge let down, I started off at a rapid
pace, and told Demetrius to follow me. In passing
the Turkish guard, consisting of three or four badly-armed
men, they called out to me to stop, which I
disregarded, and galloped off as fast as I could. I
had scarcely proceeded a couple of hundred yards
when, turning round, I saw Demetrius in the hands
of the Turks, who were belabouring him with sticks,
and trying to pull him off his horse. He kicked
and fought with all his might. I immediately rode
back with a loaded pistol in each hand, and dashed
amongst the Turks, who soon released my man, and
spurring our horses we galloped off as hard as possible,
never pulling rein for a full mile, and then, finding
we were not followed, stopped and joined our men and
baggage, whom I had left behind in a small Greek
house before I entered Nauplia the preceding evening.
Thus I got happily out of this affair, which might
have been rather serious; but I always found the
best way was to show a bold front to the Turks, and
not allow them to insult you. After a little halt
we started again, and stopped to examine the ruins
of the ancient city of Tiryns, said to have been built
by the Cyclopeans. These are very curious and interesting,
and are supposed to be the oldest specimens
of architecture in Greece. They are constructed of
rough, only partially hewn blocks of stone, rudely put
together without cement. We have here an attempt
to construct a Gothic arch; but the stones are not
radiated, the beds being flat, each stone projecting
over another until they meet in the centre. These
ruins are extensive, covering a surface of several
acres. They are well described and represented in
Gell’s ‘Itinerary.’
From Tiryns I proceeded to Mycene, about 12 miles
farther northward. These ruins are also very extensive,
and once formed the capital of Agamemnon, with
a small surrounding territory. The chief building
worthy of remark is the Hall of Atreus. This, of the
kind, is a fine work, constructed of solid masonry,
of large blocks of stone well squared, and put together
without cement. The hall is circular, and 47 feet
6 inches in diameter in the inside, and 42 feet 6 inches
high, the top covered by a single stone, thus forming a
Gothic arch inside of squared blocks of stone, the beds
being horizontal, and the stones projecting over each
other in the inside until they meet in the centre, the
angles of the projecting stones in the inside being cut
off and dressed smoothly on the face, so that, when
viewing it from within, the whole has the appearance
of a nicely-constructed dome, lighted from the top by a
circular opening. The side walls are 18 feet 6 inches
at bottom, diminishing to 18 inches at top. It is a
remarkable work, and may be considered as one of the
earliest specimens of the arch, and a considerable improvement
upon that of Tiryns. The entrance to the
hall is by a massive doorway, the sides being formed
of single stones well dressed, and the top of another
single block equally well prepared; this is surmounted
by another large block, upon which is sculptured in
bold relief two lions rampant. The approach to the
doorway is between two solid walls of masonry, forming
a passage open to the air. This being near the
summit of a hill, there is a fine view from it over the
plain, or rather valley, beneath, backed by the ruins of
the ancient city of Argos and its Acropolis, on the
Gulf of Nauplia, and on the west by a fine range of
mountains, the highest of which towers prominently
above the rest, standing far above the level of the
Mediterranean.
After having measured the Hall of Atreus, and having
made a sketch of the surrounding country, during
which my people had managed to cook an excellent
dinner in the open air, I dined, and started about 4 P.M.,
and reached Argos at 5 P.M. The ruins of the ancient
city contain little worthy of remark, and the modern
one is a miserable village, seated amongst the ruins.
The rich country was not half cultivated, merely dotted
here and there with a few vineyards and olive woods.
Argos is now about a mile from the head of the Gulf
of Nauplia, but it is very probable that in former
times the sea washed the walls of the ancient city; the
intervening space has been filled up by alluvial deposit,
and it is now little better than a marsh.
I slept at the caravanserai, and next morning started
for the Temple of Jupiter at Nemea, passing through
a rich valley with vines, grain, and olives, and the
village of Agioz Georgious, near which is a convent on
a hill. These convents are not the seats of learning,
for the monks are lazy and ignorant; but they form
comfortable resting-places for travellers who pay well
for their accommodation. The ruins of the Temple of
Jupiter, well described by Gell, consist only of three
columns of an indifferent style of Doric.
Having returned to Argos to sleep, on Sunday,
May 1, I arose early. The morning was wet and
stormy, and I was detained by the muleteer demanding
extra pay for the horses, which, however, the Bey
decided against him. We accordingly started about
seven, and soon after began to ascend the Pass through
the mountains, having on the left the miserable village
Lerna, seated on the swampy shore of the gulf,
anciently called Hydra; and hence was derived the
Lernean hydra or monster, celebrated by Virgil. This
was no doubt nothing more than the malaria fever
personified, which prevails severely in this district.
In fact, the whole of this country had a wretched, forlorn,
deserted appearance. The population was scanty,
oppressed by poverty, misery, and tyranny, their countenances
for the most part pale and haggard, expressing
despair and dejection, to extricate themselves from
which appeared hopeless; whilst the surrounding
country, naturally fertile, aided by the influence of a
genial climate, only required the industry of man to
make it yield the richest reward. Nothing was done;
all lay dead and desolate. Nature seemed to have done
everything for man, while man had in everything
neglected nature; a not uncommon occurrence, and
one which, as far as my experience goes, has produced
more misery than almost anything else.
We began to ascend the Pass over a rude causeway,
about eight or ten feet wide, in many places cut up into
deep gullies by the torrents; the ascent steep, rugged,
and difficult, fit only for mules and pack-horses. The
evening was fine, however, the air fresh and invigorating,
and the scenery beautiful, which raised my
spirits after the melancholy caused by the depressing
influence of the sight of so much desolation. Having
got to the summit of the Pass, we had a magnificent
view on both sides. Looking back, we had the Gulf of
Nauplia, with the picturesque fortress at the entrance,
the plain of Argos and its ruins, also those of Mycene
and Tiryns, backed by a rugged outline of hills; on
the west the fertile plain, with its capital Tripolitza,
and the ruins of Mantinea, backed by a bold line of
hills, with the magnificent Taygetus rising 7000 feet,
flanked on both sides by the blue waters of the Mediterranean.
We reached Tripolitza just after dark, and,
as usual, put up at the best Greek house where we
could find admittance; and as I had a good sumpter
mule, Demetrius soon prepared a capital supper, which
I enjoyed much after a hard-working day of nineteen
hours, during which I had been fourteen hours in the
saddle. I slept soundly, notwithstanding the attacks
of numerous fleas, to which by this time I had become
tolerably well accustomed.
Tripolitza, although the capital of the Morea, was
but a poor place, with about 4000 inhabitants, and the
Turkish garrison of about 300 men. The Governor’s
palace was merely an assemblage of some low, insignificant
buildings enclosed within a wall. The rest
of the town consisted of irregular, crooked, narrow,
dirty streets, some of them hardly wide enough for
a carriage, for which, indeed, there was no need, and
there were none; with a place or square near the
centre, surrounded by cafés, where the Turks and better
class of natives, such as they were, sat idly smoking
their long pipes and nargillas with that stupid indifference
and repose which characterized them, perfectly
regardless of any but themselves, and quite unconscious
and indifferent to the misery around them. There
were one or two bazaars, where all the business of the
place was transacted; in these cloths, furs, shawls,
leather articles, such as saddles, bridles, &c., silks, arms,
pipes, tobacco, and provisions of all kinds, were sold,
but scarcely any articles of European manufacture.
The town was surrounded by a crenellated wall, unfit
for artillery, and incapable of resistance to European
troops; and there were two or three mosques, with
their minarets rising above the mass of insignificant
buildings, and a few Greek churches, the interiors of
which were decorated with rude and almost grotesque
representations of saints. These edifices, towering above
the rest, had a picturesque and imposing effect when
viewed from a distance, but this vanished the moment
you drew near and entered, when little else but dirt
and misery met the eye.
The following day after my arrival I walked about
the town, amusing myself with the little which was to
be seen; and the next day I rode, accompanied by my
servant Demetrius, to the ruins of the ancient Mantinea,
formerly a city of considerable importance, and well
fortified according to the style of that period. It was
surrounded by a strong lofty stone wall, about 25 feet
high, flanked at intervals by circular turrets, and in
front of each entrance there was a kind of lunette or
advanced work to protect it, so that an enemy, in
endeavouring to enter, was exposed to flank attacks
from the garrison. These walls were surrounded by a
wide ditch filled with water, and the total surface enclosed
by them is considerable. The ruins within consist
of the remains of a hippodrome, theatre, and other
private and public buildings, concerning which, from
their scattered and dilapidated condition, it was difficult
to define anything accurately. In the neighbourhood
of Tripolitza there are numerous kalavatha, or subterranean
conduits for carrying off the water for drainage,
irrigation, and supplying the inhabitants. The river
flowing through the plain, if such it can be called,
is an insignificant stream; it is connected with the
subterranean conduits described above. The surrounding
country was tolerably cultivated, and produced
corn, pulse, oil, and wine, both red and white. This
wine was made in a very rough way, and, in order to
preserve it, was mixed with a certain quantity of turpentine,
which gave it a strong bitter flavour, by no
means agreeable at first; and until you become accustomed
to it, you cannot drink it with any degree of
relish, but by degrees you like it, and it is very
wholesome.
Whilst at Tripolitza I became acquainted with the
late Mr. Hodgets Foley, afterwards M.P. for Droitwich,
a very amiable, good-natured person. As an
instance of Turkish civility, Mr. Foley was taking his
usual ride in the evening, accompanied by his servant,
and on his way met with a party of the delhi, or
cavalry, playing at football, a game in which they much
delighted. As they passed he civilly pulled up to get out
of their way, when two or three of them at once, without
the smallest provocation, attacked him, laid hold of
his horse, and otherwise maltreated him, and he with
some difficulty extricated himself from their hands, and
rode back to Tripolitza as quickly as possible, to lay his
complaint before our Vice-Consul, who was a Greek.
He made his complaint to the Governor, who promised
redress, but (Turkish fashion) never gave it. Foley’s
mistake was this, that instead of getting out of the
way, he should have ridden right into the midst
of them, laying about him on both sides with his
whip as hard as possible; then they would have feared
and respected him, and have never offered him any
violence.
After having seen all that was worthy of attention
in the town and neighbourhood, I started for Misitra,
the site of the ancient Sparta, some miles from Tripolitza,
the route to which lay through the plain. We
reached Misitra, a miserable village, towards evening,
and obtained tolerable quarters in a respectable Greek
house, where we were received very kindly, and most
hospitably entertained, which of course I paid for by a
handsome present. I sat down to supper with the
family, consisting of the husband, his handsome wife,
daughter, and son, before a low table, placed upon
the floor; the dishes consisted of soup, a species of
stewed mutton, vegetables, and cakes and fruits. After
dinner the servant came round with a basin and ewer,
and poured water over our hands, and then presented
a napkin to wipe them: we next adjourned to another
room, where coffee and pipes were served, and the
daughter sung very prettily some Greek airs, accompanied
by the mandoline; and thus I passed a very
agreeable evening.
The following morning I rose early and proceeded to
the ruins of ancient Sparta, some miles distant. Here
nothing is to be seen of this ancient celebrated city, but
some mounds, fragments of walls and buildings, the
extent and designation of which it is extremely difficult
to make out. It was in vain, therefore, to attempt more,
and so I next determined to prosecute my journey into
Maina, said to be inhabited by the descendants of the
Spartans. This was considered at that time to be a
journey of considerable difficulty and danger, and, indeed,
impracticable, on account of the lawlessness of the
natives, who were said to be nothing more than a set of
pirates and robbers, at war with the whole world and
each other. Lord Byron wished to go there, but was
dissuaded from it, although no person ever accused
his lordship of want of courage. My janissary advised
me not to make the journey, and said that
he would not accompany me, as we should all be
murdered; and added that the Turks, who had frequently
endeavoured to conquer the country both by
land and by sea, had always failed. The more they
tried to dissuade me from going, the more I was determined
to do it, being stimulated also by doing that
which few persons would attempt; therefore I discharged
my janissaries and extra horses and servants, and sent
them to meet me at Calamata, the other side of the
peninsula, and decided to undertake the journey with
Demetrius alone, who was well acquainted with one of
the captains or chiefs of the district of Marathonesi, and
who was anxious to go himself, and said that the difficulties
had been greatly exaggerated, and that we
should get through very well. I resolved, therefore, to
start on the following morning.
Before proceeding farther I will endeavour to describe
the country which we were about to visit. The district
of Maina is situated at the southern extremity of the
Morea; it is bounded on the north by Mount Taygetus,
and its subsidiary range of mountains, and by Cape
Matapan on the south, so that it forms a triangle, jutting
out into the Mediterranean; and on the east and west
sides it is bordered by that sea, so that on all sides,
except on the north, it is surrounded by water. As to
the aborigines, it is difficult to find any well-authenticated
account; it is supposed that they at one time
formed part of the Spartan republic. After the conquest
of the Greeks by the Romans, and subsequently by
the Turks, they took refuge here, and being of a warlike
and restless temperament, disdained all subjection to
any one chief, but divided themselves into separate communities,
and chose their chief for the time, who was the
most able and successful warrior amongst them. These
communities or tribes were wholly independent, and
were frequently at war with each other, but always
united to defend themselves against the common
enemy, and they drove out the Turks, who frequently,
but in vain, attempted to bring them under subjection,
and latterly had quite given it up. Such was the state
of the country when I visited it. The whole population
was considered to be about 20,000, divided into capitanates
or beylichs, with a supreme chief, to whom,
however, the allegiance was merely nominal, and only
accorded when the whole country was invaded by a
common enemy. On other occasions, each tribe or
community made war upon the others upon the least
provocation, or upon the surrounding countries and
seas as it suited them; in fact, they were a horde of
pirates, at war with all mankind, who treated them
accordingly. It was no uncommon event at that day
for a British ship of war to bombard its seaports and
to land a strong body of men to chastise the natives
whenever they could lay hold of them; but as the
coast is intersected with numerous creeks, backed by
innumerable inaccessible mountain fortresses, to which
they escaped when overpowered, it was almost impossible
to root them out. Every petty chief had a
stronghold or fortress, where he lived with his most
intimate followers. In some cases this fortress was
surrounded by a strong loop-holed wall, to which no
access was given except by a drawbridge or ladder,
which could be drawn up when attacked; and the
access to the castle within was the same. In others
it was a simple square or round tower, with the
entrance about 10 feet above the ground, approachable
only by a ladder, which could be removed at
pleasure, and was always drawn up at night. The
country for the most part was uncultivated, and although
extremely fertile, capable of producing corn,
wine, oil, fruit, and silk in abundance, served little
more than to supply the deficiency when booty was
scarce. Such was the general state of Maina, which I
determined to visit. We accordingly left our heavy
baggage behind, and I started early in the morning,
accompanied by Demetrius and one baggage horse.
Shortly after leaving Misitra we crossed the frontier,
came to a wild, desolate country with nothing but
brushwood, occasionally mixed with lofty valonia trees,
the bark and fruit of which form a valuable article
of export.
At midday we halted as usual to give our horses, as
well as ourselves, rest and refreshment; and the ever-active
Demetrius, in a comparatively short time, provided
us with a tolerable dinner, and after a couple of
hours’ rest started again on our journey, and passing
through the same kind of wild country we reached the
sea-shore and the ruins of the ancient Marathonesi, the
greatest portion of which had been submerged by an
earthquake, and we could distinctly discern the buildings
through the clear water. A few miles farther we
reached the neat little seaport town, the modern Marathonesi,
the capital of the tribe of which Demetrius’s
friend was the chief. In the course of our day’s journey
we were not a little inspired and gratified that we had
not been attacked or even molested, notwithstanding
the dismal accounts and forebodings which had been
made to us. It is true we met a few rough, straggling,
armed fellows on the way, and they looked at us with
a fierce, independent scowl, but seeing us well armed
and prepared to meet them, passed on without further
remark.
We arrived, soon after sunset, at the house of the chief,
and were most kindly received by him, and he showed
us into some clean comfortable bedrooms, furnished, to
my surprise, in the French fashion. The fact is, the
chief was a great merchant and trader with the Ionian
Islands, Italy, and France, and possessed considerable
wealth, and was far more civilized than the rest of his
countrymen. He was a fine handsome courteous young
man, about twenty-eight, of the middle size, and extremely
well-proportioned, sinewy, active, and vigorous.
His countenance was oval, of the true Greek form, with
dark piercing eyes, black eyebrows and lashes, well-defined
nose, small mouth, with compressed lips, and
beautiful white teeth; with long moustaches, curling
several inches below his chin, and his head covered
with a profusion of black hair hanging down in natural
ringlets; he wore no beard, his chin being closely
shaven; in fact, he was a very dashing personage.
He gave us an excellent supper, and entertained us
with numerous anecdotes and accounts of the country
and its inhabitants; he asked me how I could think
of venturing among such a lawless people, whom no
stranger ever visited, and strongly recommended me to
go back, as after having learned that I proposed to
cross the country and return by the opposite coast,
he said the journey would be attended with considerable
danger, and he feared that he could not protect
me. Both Demetrius, who sat at table with us, and
myself told him that it would be disgraceful to go back,
and if he would furnish us with an escort of some of his
followers they should be properly paid, and we had no
doubt but that we should get through our journey without
difficulty. Finding that we were determined to proceed,
he opposed our intentions no more, but said he would
do the best he could for us. Being rather tired with
our day’s ride, we went to bed and slept soundly until
soon after sunrise the next morning, when we were up
and stirring. Our friend, the chief, told me that he
would provide me with an escort of twenty-five well-armed
men, whom I might safely rely upon. We accordingly
breakfasted, and went to look over the town,
which was the neatest and cleanest I had seen in
Greece. There were several vessels taking in and
delivering their cargoes; in fact, the little town was
bustling with activity and industry. All my escort,
consisting of five-and-twenty stout, active, wiry fellows,
were mustered outside of the town waiting for me, and
a fierce, rough, savage-looking set they were, armed to
the teeth with guns, pistols, and yatagans, clad a good
deal like Albanians, with kilts, jackets, hose, and red
skull-caps, with long moustaches, close-shaven chins,
and long hair falling down their shoulders. Most of
them had several scars from wounds received in their
various fights. Before starting I examined their arms
to see if they were properly loaded and flinted, as it
frequently happened that they were in bad order and
would not go off when they pulled the trigger, and
often burst, so that they did more harm to themselves
than to their enemies. I found the arms, however, better
than I expected, and giving some of them fresh flints
and good powder and ball, they were properly loaded.
I then said a few words of encouragement, which their
chief, who was with me, interpreted, and told them to
behave like men, and take care of me, and they would be
properly paid. The men answered one and all, that there
was no fear but that they would take good care of the
English Milord, as they called me, and off we started
in high spirits for the opposite side of the peninsula.
The view from Marathonesi was extremely beautiful.
On the north the noble Mount Taygetus, with its
numerous peaks, deeply-indented gorges, ravines, and
its sides covered densely with woods, rose towering
above the clouds. At its base there was a torrent
running east and west through a valley bordered by
precipitous cliffs towards the sea. On the south side of
the torrent was a narrow road, and the perpendicular
cliff on the south side of the road was full of caverns
admirably adapted for the concealment of brigands,
pirates, and bad characters of all kinds, of which so
many abounded in the country. We had to pass
through this gorge, and at the time there was a great
number of these vagabonds concealed in the caves,
waiting to intercept the merchants going backwards
and forwards to and from Marathonesi. I was warned
of this, and determined to drive these rascals, if there
were any, out of the caverns before we passed. I
accordingly told about eight or ten of the most active
of my escort to cross the river and climb the base of the
hill, and to fire into the caves, whilst I and the main
body proceeded along the road; and as we searched
each cave as we advanced, if any robbers were concealed
in them, they could not escape; and if they
attempted to do so, they were exposed to two fires. We
were thus proceeding cautiously through the Pass, and
had scarcely well entered when my men on the opposite
side of the valley commenced firing into the caverns,
and at first they were sharply replied to by the concealed
bandits. This did not last long, for the robbers,
who were not equal to us in numbers, found that they
were out-manœuvred, and if they remained in the caves
must all be taken, and they expected little mercy from
their captors. They therefore left the caves, and fled
as fast as possible, upon seeing which my people on
both sides of the torrent followed them with equal
speed, firing at random whilst they went forward. This
rude and desultory mode of fighting was fortunately
attended with no slaughter, although several flesh
wounds occurred. My party being the stronger, we
overtook the brigands, and made three or four prisoners.
At this my people were delighted, and at the same time
exasperated against them, and wished to shoot them.
I at once interposed, but found that my men were so
excited with the fight and subsequent pursuit, that
it was extremely difficult to control them. However,
after a little while I pacified them by saying that it was
unmanly and unworthy to kill an enemy after he had
surrendered. This did not seem to have much impression
on them, as they considered the conquered their
lawful prize, and that they might do what they liked
with them. I ultimately quieted them by saying that
I would pay a good sum per head for each of the
four taken, which they willingly accepted, fearing that
if they refused I should report them to their chief. I
therefore released the captives, who upon their knees
thanked me for their lives. Having reached the end of
the Pass, and the road being tolerably clear to the end
of the day’s journey, I dismissed my escort with about
ten shillings each, besides a capital dinner, and a good
sum for the captives, with which they were pleased,
and left me with many thanks and cheers, expressed
very cordially in their peculiar and rough manner.
Having parted with my escort, I rode leisurely
forward with Demetrius and the baggage horse, until
we reached the castle of a capitano, to whom I had
a letter of introduction from my excellent friend
the Captain of Marathonesi. On our arrival, which
was just as the sun was setting, we found the chief
surrounded by numerous followers seated on stone
benches fixed to the gate of the outer wall by which
the castle was surrounded. The old chief and his
attendants were quietly enjoying their pipes and
coffee, whilst the cowherds were driving in the
cattle for the night, just as described in Homer. The
chief and his suite arose to meet me as I advanced
and presented my letter of introduction, which he received
with much dignity, and welcomed me most
kindly to his castle, and certainly a wild, rough place it
was. Within the outer wall was placed the keep or
castle, consisting of a great square tower massively built,
containing a few rough apartments with little or no
furniture except a few mattresses and cushions, which
were removed during the day. The space between the
main tower or residence was filled with numerous outhouses
and sheds for the cattle and servants and guards
of the chief. After a short conversation we adjourned
to the inner castle, and were shown into the principal
room, about 30 feet square, with divers rows of low
cushions placed all round against the walls. Directly
after our arrival, a low table was brought in, and
the chief, his attendants, myself, and servant Demetrius,
to the number of about a dozen, sat down
cross-legged to supper, which was immediately served.
This consisted of stewed mutton, with vegetables, roast
game, sweets, and fruits, which for the most part we ate
with our fingers. Before each guest was placed a bottle
full of wine, but there were no glasses on the table, so
that one had no alternative but to drink out of the
bottle, which was refilled several times with good red
wine. After dinner we took to our pipes and coffee,
during which we had a good deal of agreeable conversation,
which was chiefly devoted to inquiries about
England, in which they appeared to take the greatest
interest. After having well supped, and having
smoked and conversed as long as we felt it agreeable,
one by one we dropped off to sleep upon our mattresses,
armed, and without undressing, ready for a surprise at
any moment. I soon fell asleep, and awoke at daybreak
thoroughly refreshed. We all got up, shook
ourselves, washed, and took coffee and a pipe, and then
strolled about till breakfast. This castle is situated on
a fine bay on the sea-shore, near the base of Taygetus.
Outside the walls of the castle there is a straggling
village. Besides fishing-boats, there were several others
of a more suspicious character, being sharply built,
and having the appearance of pirates. We got a
capital breakfast with the old chief; afterwards rowed
in the bay; and then taking a hearty farewell of my
worthy host, started for Kitriai, the castle of the Bey,
who was the nominal chief of the whole of Maina.
We reached Kitriai a little before sunset, and were
most kindly received by the Bey, a fine old warrior,
about 5 feet 10 inches high, well built, square, and
muscular, with an open, well-developed Greek countenance,
thick moustache, and flowing white beard.
There was something mild and gentlemanlike in his
manner, very different to any other we had met. We
were shown to our apartments, which were very comfortable,
overlooking the sea and surrounding coasts.
I spent the next day very agreeably in looking about
the adjacent country, which was very pretty, but not so
wild and grand as that nearer to Taygetus. Besides the
Bey, there were several of his counsellors, his secretary,
and one or two Greek priests, all accomplished persons,
who spoke the Greek in its purity, much to my gratification
and instruction. The town of Kitriai is about
the size of Marathonesi, but not nearly so neat and
clean, neither had it so much trade.
On the morning after, we started at daybreak, and
proceeded along the coast to Calamata. This town
ranked about the third in the Morea, and was then
doing a good trade; but, like all the towns in the
Morea, was miserable and dirty, with narrow streets,
low buildings, from one to two stories high, two or
three insignificant mosques and Greek churches, and
a square near the centre, with several cafés, filled, as
usual, with idle Turks and Albanians, smoking their
pipes and sipping coffee and sherbet, whilst numerous
Greek merchants and Jews were transacting their
business. The bazaars were close by, and crowded
with purchasers. The harbour was full of vessels and
sailors of various kinds—Hydriote Greeks (amongst the
best sailors on the Mediterranean), Austrian, French,
and a few English vessels, besides a number of boats
called caiques, and fishing vessels, altogether a busy
scene. I took up my quarters at a Greek house, as
rough and dirty as usual, and found my heavy baggage,
servants, and janissary whom I had sent from Misitra.
Next day I started at daybreak through a wild, undulating,
partially-cultivated country to visit the two Doric
temples of Messenia, where Mr. Cockerell discovered
the celebrated Phigalian marbles. It is said that these
marbles were sent to Malta for sale, of which due notice
was given by advertisement, and a certain day fixed for
the auction, to which commissioners were sent by the
British and other Governments. The sale, however, by
some mistake, took place at Athens. The British agent,
not being aware of this, remained at Malta. There was
therefore no person present to bid on the part of the
British Government, and they were knocked down to
the Bavarian agent. When this was announced, the
British Government refused to deliver up the marbles,
upon the plea that the sale ought to have taken
place at Malta. The matter remained in abeyance
until the Peace of 1814, when the Bavarian sovereign
was in England. Certain negotiations then took place,
and the British Government ultimately agreed to give
the marbles up to Bavaria, upon condition that a
complete set of casts was sent to the British Museum.
By this unfortunate affair England lost a valuable
prize; and this loss was the more annoying, because,
having already obtained the Elgin marbles, the Phigalian
marbles—which represented an earlier stage of
Greek art—would have rendered the English collection
the most complete in the world. I spent the
greater part of the day at Phigalia in measuring and
sketching the temples, which are situated upon a hill
commanding a fine view of the picturesque surrounding
country.
I took up my quarters in a Greek house, got supper
as soon as possible, and went to bed, with the customary
annoyance of vermin. The country around
was naturally rich and fertile, but left, as usual, almost
in a state of nature. Undulating, with clumps of wood
scattered about, it resembled a good deal the park-like
scenery of England. There were numerous flocks of
sheep and goats and a few herds of cattle feeding upon
excellent herbage, guarded here and there by wild,
shepherds, armed with guns and yatagans. The peasantry
appeared very poor and ragged, but, notwithstanding,
many of the women had skull-caps made of
gold coins strung together, called mahmoudies, about
the size of a sovereign. This composed their whole
wealth; and it is a curious fact that these head-dresses
were respected, and never stolen. The men also, and
in some cases the women, had the girdles round their
waists fastened together by large discs of silver about
the size of a small plate. Thus there was a strange
contrast of wealth and poverty exhibited in the same
person.
We started early next day, and at noon on the
second day reached the Alpheus, the most considerable
river in the Morea, and which flows through the
famous plain of Olympia. The river Alpheus here
was 150 to 200 yards broad, but fortunately the waters
were low, although we had some difficulty in crossing
without swimming our horses. In the Olympian plain
there were scarcely any remains worth noticing, though
numerous fragments of marble, brick, and pottery are
strewed about. We got some very rough quarters for
the night in a village near Olympia, and next day,
passing over a similar kind of country, reached Patras
before sunset, at which we greatly rejoiced, as we were
tolerably tired with our rough journey in the Morea.
I succeeded in getting, as I thought, clean, comfortable
quarters in a respectable Greek house. I was
shown upstairs into a large well-furnished room, with
apparently a delicious-looking bed covered with a snow-white
counterpane. They gave me an excellent dinner
and some good wine, after which, being very tired, I
threw myself on the outside of the bed for a nap. I slept
most soundly for about five or six hours, and when I
awoke it was quite dark; I felt all the torments of
the damned, for I was almost devoured by immense
bugs. I jumped out of the bed in an instant, rubbing
my face, which was covered with blood and bugs,
and struck a light, when I found that the bed too was
almost covered with them. I very soon caught some
dozens, I may almost say hundreds; I undressed, and
cleared my clothes of them, then dressed myself, and
waited until daylight, being resolved not to trust to a
Greek bed again, but to my own mattress.
I spent the next day at Patras quietly, and then
started off on my return to Athens, taking the circuitous
route by Delphos, Livadia, Eubœa, Negropont,
and Marathon. We coasted along the south shore of
the Gulf of Lepanto, passed our old friend the ruined
convent near Vostizza, and dined at the house of a
Greek merchant near, who kindly invited and treated
me most hospitably. After dinner, just before I departed,
our worthy host said he would show me a
curiosity, and without more ado he brought out a large
tub full of black snakes each about four feet long; at
the word of command all these reptiles leaped out of
the tub and began dancing about the table, at which
I got considerably alarmed, when my host burst out
laughing, and said they would do me no harm unless I
irritated them, which of course I had no idea of doing.
I therefore looked quietly on, and in a short time he
called to them and they quickly leaped back into the tub.
He said these snakes abounded in the cornfields which
had just been reaped, but they were timorous, and
never did any harm unless provoked; their bite was
not dangerous, although for a time it occasioned a good
deal of inflammation. I parted from my worthy host
with many thanks, and then hired a large boat to take
myself, servants, horses, and baggage across the gulf to
Scalo, on the opposite side. We reached the landing-place
about sunset, after a four hours’ voyage, and proceeded
to a caravanserai close by for the night. This
was a most wretched place, in the middle of a marsh
filled with large frogs and mosquitoes innumerable; and
what with the loud croaking of the frogs, and the bites
of the mosquitoes and bugs, it was impossible to sleep
with any degree of comfort. There was a party of
Turks and Albanians at the caravanserai who suffered
as much as we did; being unable to sleep, they
revenged themselves on the kanghè or master of the
caravanserai, and belaboured him with their sticks
most unmercifully, and left him without paying for
anything. The poor fellow complained to me bitterly;
but unfortunately I could give him no redress. As
soon as it was daylight we started also; I paid him
handsomely, although we had scarcely anything from
him, but lived on our own provisions. He was very
grateful, and hoped to see me again, but I told him
that was very improbable.
As we cleared the marsh and got amongst the
splendid mountain scenery, in the midst of which the
classic Mount Parnassus reared his majestic head,
towering above the whole, the fine fresh air completely
revived us. We passed Salano, surrounded by olives,
and breakfasted under the trees, much to our comfort.
A little before noon on the 26th of May we reached
the village of Kastri, the site of the celebrated Delphos,
situated at the base of Mount Parnassus. Enhanced
as it is by classical recollections, the magnificence of the
surrounding scenery it is impossible to describe; let it
suffice to say I shall never forget it. Of the temple and
spring scarcely anything remain, and a good deal must
be left to the imagination. I descended into a small
plastered well, said to be the ancient Castalian spring,
which is situated in a cavern at the base of the mountain;
here the oracle was said to have been placed, and
although I was not inspired, nevertheless I could not
divest myself of the sanctity of the place and of the
wonderful influence which the oracle once held over the
ancient world. The surrounding scenery, with Parnassus
towering above the clouds, added much to my
enthusiasm, which was increased by the sight of seven
or eight fine eagles soaring over our heads and
screaming wildly. I was delighted with the scene,
and only regretted that I had not time to ascend to
the summit of Olympus.
After a halt of three or four hours, during which I
dined, I started in high spirits for Livadia, where we
halted for the night. This was a rather large town,
with extensive cotton manufactories, seated on the side
of a lofty hill overlooking the Lake Copais and the
fertile plain of Thebes. We got tolerable quarters here,
not forgetting the ever present bugs and mosquitoes.
Next day I visited the ancient Orchomenus, the remains
of which are very inconsiderable, consisting of the
treasury, similar to that of Mycene, but elliptical instead
of circular; also of the citadel. I also visited the
ancient lion of Chæronæa, which is tolerably perfect,
cut out of the solid rock. Returned to Livadia to sleep.
On the 28th May I examined the cave of Trophonius.
The weather was very hot, as it was the latter end of
the month. I then travelled on until, passing through
the miserable modern town of Thiva, for of the ancient
celebrated Thebes there are no remains worthy of notice,
we took a route to the north-east, and entered a defile,
in the centre of which there is the beautiful tranquil
Lake of Copais about four miles long, upon which some
wild swans and ducks were enjoying themselves.
The next day we were off at daybreak, and on our
way examined the kolavothora or outlet at the lower
end of Lake Copais, which was a rough, unfinished
tunnel cut through the sandstone rock; by means of
this tunnel the surplus waters of the lake are discharged
into the sea, otherwise the lake would overflow and
totally submerge the surrounding plain. This is a
considerable work, but is not carried far enough; if
it were the whole lake would be laid dry, a large
quantity of valuable and fertile soil would be gained,
and the surrounding district rendered much more
healthy. From there we proceeded through an arid,
stony, undulating country to Negropont. Upon reaching
the shores of the arm of the sea which divides the island
of Negropont from the main, and which is scarcely
200 yards wide at the narrowest point, although very
hot, I stopped to make a sketch of the beautiful scene;
having done this we proceeded across the bridge which
connects the island with the mainland, to the fortified
town of Negropont. The town is surrounded by a
strong wall with circular towers at the angles; these
towers mount some heavy guns, particularly towards the
sea front, where there is a casemated battery, incapable,
however, of resisting the broadside of a heavy frigate.
This town at the time of my visit was garrisoned by
fierce, bigoted Turks, who had the utmost contempt
for Christians, nevertheless with a certain respect for
Europeans, particularly the English. The chief inhabitants
were Greeks, whom the Turks kept in the
most perfect subjection. The interior of the town
consisted of narrow streets with low, mean houses, and
a few mosques, Greek churches, bazaars, cafés, &c.
There was very little trade, although the place is well
adapted for it, as the island is rich and fertile. We
got into a Greek house and made ourselves as comfortable
as we could, and one of my Greek servants
for greater protection requested one of my old hats,
which I gave him, and of which he was very proud,
although it contrasted strangely with his picturesque
Greek costume.
There was nothing to be seen in the town, and as
we did not appear to be welcome guests, the sooner we
left the better, so the next day I started for Marathon,
having sent the heavy baggage down to Athens, which
I expected to reach the same evening. This renowned
battle-field interested me exceedingly; it is about two
miles wide, and is bounded by the sea on the east,
and the ranges of Mounts Hymettus and Pentelicus on
the west. I fancied in my enthusiasm that I could
discover the positions of the different commanders,
their manœuvres, and in fact the whole battle from
beginning to end. I remained there several hours,
until near sunset, and then left with Demetrius at a
hand-gallop, expecting to reach Athens in the course of
a couple of hours or so. We had no guide, and thought
that our most direct course lay through the wood on our
right, where there was a convent, which would serve as
a halting-place if necessary. Off we started, and were
soon in the wood, which became thicker and thicker
as we advanced; the road, which at the first was
only a horse-track, now became fainter and fainter; and
at last we lost it altogether. The sun had now set, and
the short twilight had disappeared. After floundering
about the wood for some time, our horses came to a
dead stop, and neither whip nor spur would make them
budge an inch farther, but they backed, snorting
violently, and rearing occasionally so as almost to
unseat us. We could see nothing, it being quite dark,
and could not imagine why our horses had come to
such a dead stand; we therefore threw the reins on
their necks and allowed them to have their own way;
and most fortunately we did so, for they had more sense
than their masters. When left to themselves they
immediately turned round and went back for some
distance, then turned to the left and commenced a very
rapid descent, occasionally sliding for a considerable
distance; sometimes losing their footing, then slipping
and sliding again, so that we could hardly keep our
seats. At last we came to the bottom, cleared the
wood, and reached a grass plain. It was now about
midnight; we did not know where we were or where
the convent was; in fact, we were lost, so that there
was no alternative but to picket our horses and lie
down on the grass till morning. Although very tired
and hungry we had nothing to eat; we accordingly
wrapped ourselves in our cloaks and lay down and
slept until sunrise. When we woke we found ourselves
at the bottom of a perpendicular cliff above
80 feet high; we now saw the cause of our horses’ halt
the night before; we were doing all we could to force
them over this precipice, but by a merciful Providence
their instinct saved us. We were sincerely grateful
for our escape, and shuddered to think how narrowly
we had missed a terrible catastrophe. We then looked
for our horses, but they were nowhere to be seen; we
at once concluded that they must have been stolen by
robbers, who were said to be numerous in the neighbourhood.
After searching everywhere for about a
mile round, we at last observed them quietly feeding
under a hill, and had very little difficulty in catching
and mounting them. We rode to the convent which
was close by, and which for the darkness we could not
find the previous night. Here we got a capital breakfast,
and rested, and the good monks having heard our
story, congratulated us on our escape, not only from
the precipice but from the robbers. We dined here
also, and rode to Athens in the cool of the evening,
where I took up my old quarters. Before leaving
the convent I went out and took a sketch of Athens,
which is about four miles distant, and the surrounding
country. The view is extremely beautiful; in the front
you have Athens, with its Acropolis, rising out of the
plain, backed by the island of Ægina in the midst of the
Ægean Sea, and beyond that by the mountains of the
Morea; whilst as a foreground there is Mount Hymettus,
with the convent rising out of the woods, and Pentelicus
on the right. This I think is the best view of Athens.
Being again settled in Athens, I set about finishing
my studies of the antiquities, and taking sketches of
the neighbourhood; as the weather was very hot, being
now the middle of June, I started off one morning
before sunrise with Demetrius to take a sketch of the
Isthmus of Corinth and the surrounding scenery, and
found an excellent position which commanded the
whole, near a marsh with a small lake in front. I was
so absorbed in my sketch that I did not think of the
malaria, which was very fatal in that place. The
sketch occupied about three hours, and although I had
taken some breakfast in the open air, and Demetrius the
same, we both felt very ill and returned to Athens, and
sent directly for the doctor, when I found that I had
the malaria fever in the form of an ague. Demetrius
was much worse, and towards night he became delirious,
and remained so for some time. I rallied in three or
four days, but remained very weak. Demetrius was
confined to the house for above a fortnight. Although
I could go about, still the fever clung to me more or
less, and I could do very little. At this time, a singular
person, a Mr. Scott, a friend of Lord Byron’s,
called upon me and offered every attention; he was
a shy, kind, and well-informed man, living quite shut
up by himself, seldom stirring out till dusk, when he
was to be seen galloping round the walls of Athens
quite alone. There were also at Athens, Mr. Hodgetts
Foley, Mr. Beaumont, Mr. Waddington (the late) Dean
of Durham, and the Rev. Mr. Hanbury. The latter
was a tall, fine-looking man, of fair complexion, with
long light brown hair hanging over his shoulders, and
a long beard, altogether a very striking figure; he was
perpetually thinking of firearms; so that it might well
be said, that instead of being a man of peace, he was
a man of war.
I was now introduced to the Maid of Athens, so
celebrated by Lord Byron; she certainly was a
handsome and elegant young woman, about twenty,
with a very pleasing manner and lively and intelligent
in conversation. She had a younger sister, a very
agreeable person also, but not so handsome. They
lived with their parents, who made their house a
very pleasant resort for strangers. By this time, the
beginning of July, I was a great deal better, and was
recommended to take a sea voyage for change of air.
The above-named gentlemen had hired an Hydriote
brig to take a month’s cruise amongst the islands, and
I agreed to join them. We accordingly started about
the end of the first week in July, the weather still
very hot. We left the Piræus in the morning, and as
there was very little wind we were becalmed off
Cape Colonna, which forms the eastern promontory of
the Gulf of Athens. Here we cast anchor, lowered
a boat, and went on shore to visit the celebrated
temple.
As we landed we were much struck by the appearance
of the beautiful ruin, perched upon the summit of the
promontory in solitary grandeur, and overlooking the
surrounding coasts and islands, altogether forming a
very imposing and charming scene.
Whilst in the midst of silent admiration at this beautiful
temple, all of a sudden Hanbury cried out, “There
goes an old hawk,” and fired at it immediately. This
dispelled the charm, and we all burst out laughing.
Having finished our exploration, we returned on board
our vessel to dinner. A light breeze soon afterwards
sprang up; we lay-to for a short time off the island
of Syra, and the following morning got under way for
Paros, a fine land-locked port, which we reached early
in the day, and landed after breakfast. We then proceeded
to explore the quarries from which the celebrated
marble was extracted.
These quarries are situated near the top of a hill,
about a mile distant from the port, with a steep
broken road for an approach. The ancients, instead
of opening out a good face, so that the quarries might
be worked to any extent with advantage, excavated
caverns in the side of the hill, and having arrived at
the good sound rock, cut it out by wedges and picks
in such masses as they required, so that the inside of
the quarry presented a long gallery from whence the
stone had been taken, worked in a very regular manner
in steps one above the other, without any appearance of
waste; in fact, the rock is so solid that when worked
by pick and wedge no blasting is necessary; indeed,
if blasting were adopted, it would entail considerable
waste. At the same time, it appeared to me that if the
solid rock was bared from the surface and a good length
of face opened out, the pick-and-wedge system might be
worked to almost any extent, with much greater advantage;
and if inclined planes with railways were made
to the port, and a proper embarking jetty, with cranes,
carried out into deep water, so as to enable large vessels
to come alongside at all times to receive their cargoes,
this fine marble might be quarried and exported at a
very moderate cost, infinitely below the price now
charged for Carrara marble. As the Parian marble
is of a beautiful white cream-colour, almost free from
veins, and of an even, close texture, the sale would be
immense and yield an excellent profit; and considering
the enormous price of fine marble adapted for sculpture,
amounting to one and two guineas and upwards per
foot cube, according to the size of the block and fineness
of the quality, it is astonishing that the value of
these quarries has not been recognized before, and
that capital has not been forthcoming to work them.
The harbour is spacious, with ample depth, and well
protected against all winds.
The following day we devoted to the examination of
the celebrated stalactite caverns of Antiparos, a small
island on the north-west of Paros, and only separated
from it by a narrow strait. We accordingly went there
after breakfast, and being accompanied by a sufficient
number of guides with torches and wax lights, commenced
the exploration. We entered by a lofty arch,
and after proceeding some distance came to a magnificent
chamber, from the roof of which depended the
most magnificent stalactites, many of them eight and
ten feet long, reflecting the light of our torches like
so many diamonds. From this hall issued several
galleries, some of which had not then been explored;
we pursued our way through all which had been
investigated, and returned, after a fatiguing walk, to
the surface. This island, like that of Paros, is composed
of fine, close marble, which might be developed
in the same manner with considerable profit. We
next set sail for Naxos; and here the whole party
started in a native open boat to visit some ruins, which
turned out to be not in the least worth seeing. We were
first becalmed for many hours, and on our return were
overtaken by a violent storm, and only escaped, as the
entire coast was one wall of almost perpendicular rock,
by one of the sailors accidentally remembering the
vicinity of a small creek, into which the captain, a
brave and skilful man, managed to steer us through the
breakers. We ultimately returned to Naxos, after an
absence of thirty-nine hours, by far the greater part of
which we passed without food, as the ruins being only
eight miles from Naxos, it was considered a mere
morning’s sail. The day after our return we invited the
English Consul, a Greek, and several of the principal
inhabitants to dinner, and had a jovial party, for the
Greeks like good cheer, and are certainly not water
drinkers. The wine of Naxos, of which a considerable
quantity is made, both for home and foreign consumption,
is excellent; it is chiefly white wine, resembling
a good deal brown sherry, and if well made is equally
good. Besides wine they export Velança bark, wool,
figs, currants, and other articles.
Having nothing further to see, we set sail from
Naxos, with a lively and lasting recollection of our
visit to the celebrated antiquities, and then steered for
Scio, the ancient Chios, passing amongst numerous
islands, many of them very beautiful; some were
covered with woods and verdure to the water’s edge,
others consisted of bold barren rocks rising perpendicularly
from the water to a great height, and terminating
in lofty peaks. The scene was ever changing,
and we enjoyed views of wood, water, plain, and
mountain, combined in the most charming manner, and
of endless variety.
It was amusing also to see how well the Greek
sailors managed our ship. At this time of the
year strong northerly winds prevail during the day,
against which we had to heat. In tacking about and
manœuvring the vessel they showed considerable skill
and activity.
Mitylene, where we next arrived, is a poor little
place, surrounded by steep, lofty hills covered with wood
almost to their summits. There is some trade of wine
and oil, and wood and bark. I was much amused by
a fight between my man Demetrius and a Turk who
insulted him; fortunately they had neither firearms nor
knives, but they used their hands in the most clumsy
manner possible, and after a little time I parted them
before they had done any mischief.
We spent about three days in the island, which is
well worthy of a visit on account of its rich and beautiful
scenery, and then returned to Scio, where our
party separated.
I took lodgings, and rested a few days, for I was
still very weak, and liable to attacks occasionally from
the malaria fever. I had several enjoyable rides about
this island. A ridge of lofty hills, extending from
north to south, added greatly to the picturesqueness of
the scenery. The soil is extremely rich and fertile,
and a large quantity of excellent wine, besides oil, silk,
fruits, grain, wood, &c., is produced. A great trade is
carried on with different parts of the Mediterranean,
particularly Constantinople and Smyrna. Perhaps,
with the exception of Sicily, it is the richest island in
the Mediterranean, and has a great number of wealthy
merchants and proprietors. The port, which is formed
by a small creek, defended by two stone piers, contained
numerous vessels, some of considerable size, and
bearing the flags of most European nations. The town
was better and more substantially built than any I
had hitherto seen, and there were some good bazaars,
rich with the wares of the East and with European
articles. The square in the centre was surrounded by
handsome cafés and houses, and also one or two large
mosques and Greek churches. The island was governed
by a Turkish officer of rank, with a small body of
janissaries and cavalry. The following year, 1821, this
island suffered terribly during the Greek revolution,
when the inhabitants attempted to overcome the Turks,
who were too strong for them, and showed them no
mercy; many were massacred, and the island was
devastated. Having taken a sketch of the port, and
seen everything of interest, I hired a Greek open boat,
and embarked with Demetrius and all our baggage
for Smyrna, where I got tolerably comfortable lodgings
in a Greek house.
Smyrna is situated at the south-eastern extremity of
the gulf of that name, and extends northward along
the coast for about a mile and a half. The shore of
the bay in front of the city is lined with a quay-wall,
formed partly of wood and partly of stone, with small
wooden jetties projecting from it at irregular intervals.
Between this quay-wall and the houses is a road, which
runs nearly along the whole sea-front. From this road
innumerable narrow, crooked streets lead to the different
parts of the town; many of these are so narrow that
two horses can scarcely go abreast. The buildings for
the most part consist of two and three stories. The
bazaars were numerous, extensive, and rich, filled with
all the commodities of the East, such as rick silks, plain
and brocaded, shawls, jewellery, arms, leather articles,
and pipes of all kinds, rough iron and pottery ware,
besides tobacco, fruit, and provisions. All these bazaars
were laid out in different sections, with a particular
trade assigned to each, and were kept in tolerable
order; the Jews and Armenians were the bankers,
and had their counters or stalls, with offices behind,
where they transacted business to a large amount.
All the Consuls’ houses were in front of the quay,
and were substantial stone buildings of considerable
extent, and, with the flags of the respective nations
which they represented, had a very imposing appearance.
In front of the quay were moored at times
several hundreds of vessels of all nations, and the
immense number of boats and barges passing continually
between them and the shore, formed a most
busy and lively scene. There were several fine and
extensive mosques, which no Christian was ever permitted
to enter; also many Greek churches, with their
gorgeously-bedaubed paintings representing innumerable
saints. I attended the Greek service at different
times, but generally came away anything but satisfied;
their strong nasal tone in saying prayers, and their
indifferent music and singing, greatly disappointed me.
Towards the land the city was surrounded by a high
wall, and at each gate was a strong guard. At the
south end there was a kind of citadel on a hill, in
which the Governor resided, and about half a mile
from the city were the cemeteries, deeply embosomed
in cypress trees. Many of the tombs were very pretty,
of white, well-sculptured marble, with inscriptions from
the Koran engraved upon them, and they were tastefully
ornamented with garlands of flowers.
The exports from Smyrna are various, and its trade
with Europe is very extensive. The articles of export
are figs, raisins, silk, oil, bark, grain, &c.; figs and
raisins, however, are the chief, and these are exported
to a vast amount, and certainly they are the
finest in the world. There are two crops, those which
are ripe about the end of July, which are mostly
consumed in the country and neighbourhood; they are
most delicious, and extremely wholesome. The second
crop is ripe about the end of September. These are
gathered, dipped in water, then carefully packed in
boxes and exported, chiefly to England, France, and the
north of Europe, and by the time of their arrival they
are covered with a rich coating of crystallized sugar,
and are fit for use. At the season of shipping the figs,
which I witnessed, the greatest activity is visible everywhere—the
producers selling, the merchants buying,
the packing-case makers splitting the wood and making
up the boxes—the packers carefully stowing the figs—the
men loading them into lighters, by which they
are transported to the fast-sailing vessels waiting for
them, which are generally clipper schooners of about
120 to 170 tons—the Consuls’ offices besieged with
numerous applicants for their clearance papers—the
whole combined to form a most active and industrious
scene, not omitting the numberless dinners and social
parties at the different hotels and coffee-houses, which
are thronged with natives of all nations. I walked
about and witnessed this busy scene with much delight
and satisfaction. I must not omit the melons, both
sweet and water, and the grapes, which were the most
delicious I ever tasted. The finest raisins are those
called sultanas grown at Scala Nova, a small port to
the south-west of Smyrna, which I visited. The grapes
from which they are made are especially delicious.
The town is a poor place as regards the buildings;
but, notwithstanding, there is a considerable amount
of wealth. When I was there the town had recently
been visited by a severe attack of plague, and many
of the houses were shut up, all the inmates having
died, and, having no heirs, the property belonged to
the Government.
Whilst I was at Smyrna the British Consul was Mr.
Werry, a fine old gentleman of about sixty-five, with
considerable vigour and talent, just the man for the
place. All British subjects were under his protection,
amongst whom were a considerable number from the
Ionian Islands, who were the most troublesome and
daring vagabonds, committing all Sorts of crimes, and
mixed up with every row in the place; these rows
daily occurred, and bloodshed and murder not unfrequently
was the consequence. Old Werry was the
arbiter, and delivered his judgments with great impartiality
and justice. The Turks also were very
troublesome, and frequently attempted acts of great
barbarity. Werry, however, was equal to the occasion,
and at such times went direct to the Governor
and claimed an audience; he was at once admitted
and seated at the head of the divan; then he claimed
protection for his British subjects; and whenever the
Governor demurred, Werry drew his sword, threw his
hat down on the floor, and threatened him with a
British frigate to blow up the town before his eyes.
The Governor would try to pacify him by offering
pipes and coffee, and soothing words, which Werry
treated with contempt, and nothing would do but releasing
the prisoners, which was soon effected. Then
Werry strode off in triumph, scarcely condescending
to return the Governor’s salute. The Turks looked
upon him as a madman; but they have always entertained
the greatest respect for him, and allowed him
to have his way, invariably calling him the mad
Consul. Nevertheless, he was a most kind and worthy
man, greatly respected and liked by his countrymen,
the other consuls, and by the whole population. He
received me with the greatest kindness and hospitality.
I was a frequent visitor at his house, both in town and
at his country seat, Bridjar, about nine miles distant to
the south-east.
Whilst at Smyrna I made acquaintance with my
countryman, Mr. (afterwards Professor) Donaldson, a
M. Parke, and another French architect, who had just
returned to Smyrna after a very successful exploration
of some of the most remarkable ruins of the ancient
cities of Asia Minor, and their portfolios were filled
with drawings of these most interesting relics of
antiquity. I passed several happy days in their company,
and Donaldson most kindly made out for me a
map by which I might be enabled to visit these remarkable
ruins; I therefore determined to follow it out
as nearly as possible without delay, and took leave of
them with many thanks.
On the next day, having obtained the usual firman,
I started, in company with my faithful servant Demetrius,
to explore some of the ruins of Ionia, with a
Turkish surgee, or guide, a janissary, and a couple of
baggage horses, leaving my heavy baggage at Smyrna.
After passing through a wild, rich, and almost uncultivated
country, we reached Aiasolok, on the Meander,
near the ruins of Ephesus, in the evening, and took up
our quarters in a Turkish caravanserai. Demetrius
soon prepared a good supper, laid our mattresses, and
we both slept soundly until the morning. Every inmate
was up transacting his business soon after daybreak,
and I at once sallied forth to examine the ruins of
Ephesus. This celebrated city was situated on the left
bank of the Meander, at the base of an elevated ridge
of hills. The only remains which we could distinctly
make out was the amphitheatre, of the rest little could
be discovered; but numerous fragments of columns,
cornices, blocks of masonry, pottery, brickwork, &c.,
lay scattered about. I made a sketch of the whole from
the best place I could find. The ruins of Ephesus
formed the foreground, with the Meander and its
numerous windings and the marshy valley flanked by
the mountains on each side, whilst in the background
was the miserable town of Aiasolok, with its fortress
and mosque on a conical hill above it, backed by a wild
range of mountains of considerable elevation, which
completed the view. The scene was most picturesque,
replete with solitary grandeur and desolation. The
stillness was something remarkable; nothing was seen
moving, except at rare intervals a long line of camels
laden with merchandise, led by their guide, smoking his
pipe, and mounted on a donkey; or here and there
a solitary heron fishing amongst the reeds of the
Meander, and flocks of wild ducks, which took to
flight at the slightest disturbance. It was singular
and melancholy to remark the ruins of the three most
celebrated of the Churches of the world before me,
namely, those of the ancient Greeks, Romans, and
Christians, dominated over by the Mahometan mosque.
I remained alone lost in contemplating this solemn and
desolate scene for two or three hours, reflecting upon
the vicissitudes and instability of human grandeur, and
walked slowly back to the caravanserai at Aiasolok,
where I took my breakfast, and then started on my
journey. We slowly wound our way through the Pass
between the mountains at the back of Aiasolok, and
descended into the plain of the ancient Magnesia, the
site of one of the seven Churches, through which
two streams flow sluggishly to the sea, and reached
the ruins about a couple of hours before sunset. I
picketed my horse here whilst I examined the ruins,
and sent Demetrius forward with the other horses and
baggage to a village, where I proposed to pass the
night, ordering Demetrius to have supper ready by
my arrival.
The principal building is the hippodrome, which
was tolerably perfect, and I took some pains to measure
it accurately, which occupied me about two hours.
There was nothing else worthy of remark, although
there were numerous fragments of buildings scattered
around. I met a Turkish Aga, handsomely accoutred
and well mounted, attended by a servant, who watched
my movements with considerable attention, and politely
accosted me. Having finished my work, I mounted
and galloped off to the place of my rendezvous as
quickly as possible. Passing through the adjacent
forest I observed something like hammocks slung to
the trees about 10 or 12 feet from the ground; these,
I learned, were the sleeping places of the shepherds
who attended their flocks in the neighbourhood, and as
there were no habitations near, they slept in these
hammocks to keep themselves out of the influence of
the malaria, which is very fatal in these parts.
About sunset I reached my destination, which was
situated at the head of a valley surrounded by lofty mountains.
There was a cluster of miserable mud huts, but
no place fit to sleep in, so Demetrius was obliged to take
possession of an open shed, with a bare mud hut adjoining,
in which he placed the baggage, spread my
mattress in the shed, and laid out the table attached to
my canteen in the open air in front, upon which he
had got ready a tolerably good supper. This canteen,
it should be mentioned, was a very smart affair; all the
utensils were plated on the outside and gilt on the
inside, and, being quite new, had a very stylish and
attractive appearance: it was much finer than I
wanted, and had been sent out from England by my
brother. No sooner had I sat down to supper, than I
was surrounded by a considerable number of Kurds,
wild-looking fellows, armed to the teeth, who had come
from their own country with their flocks, for the rich
pasture which this country afforded. Their encampment
was close by. They appeared very friendly, and
admired my turn-out with great satisfaction, thinking,
no doubt, that it was real gold and silver. I treated
them very courteously, gave them wine, coffee, and
tobacco, for which they appeared very thankful, and
we parted, as I thought, excellent friends. It was a fine
summer evening, and soon after became dark. The
Kurds retired with many thanks, and being tired I
lay down for the night on my mattress without taking
off my clothes, whilst Demetrius and the other servants
were in front, and the horses picketed before them,
having only their girths slackened, so that we were
ready for a start at any alarm. I examined my pistols,
my men did the same, and we all retired; but I
was very restless and feverish, and could not sleep,
although excessively weary. I was continually roused
by the barking of the great mastiffs which were
kept by the shepherds to drive off the wolves and
panthers in the vicinity. At last, towards midnight, I
fell fast asleep. I awoke all of a sudden to find two
fierce-looking Kurds by my side, one with a pistol
close to my head, the other flaring a lighted torch in
my face, with one hand thrust under my pillow, to
steal my purse and valuables. I sat up directly and
secured my pistols; seeing this, the fellow with the
pistol pulled the trigger, but fortunately it only
flashed in the pan. I at once fired. I think I hit
him somewhere, for he uttered a loud cry, and instantly
took to flight with his companion. My men
awoke at the noise, jumped up directly, and fired
also. By this time we were surrounded by the Kurds,
and had a hand-to-hand fight for a few minutes, when
I called to my men to mount and gallop off as quickly
as possible. I did the same, and off we went at full
speed, leaving the baggage behind. We could do no
other, for by this time the whole tribe was on the
alert; they came running to the help of their companions,
and commenced firing at us. Fortunately
it was hardly daylight, and they could not see us
clearly. In order to avoid the shots that whistled
past us, we crouched down upon our saddles, and soon
got out of their reach. They did not follow us, either
being deterred by the stout resistance we had made, or
being satisfied with the booty which they had got. To
have remained longer would have been madness, for we
should soon have been overpowered, and probably all
murdered, as there were at least thirty or forty of them,
and we were only five. We never pulled bridle until we
had made about six or eight miles; it was then broad
daylight, and the sun was just rising above the
horizon; we continued, however, at a smart pace, passing
through a rich and partially cultivated valley,
until, about seven o’clock in the morning, we reached a
small town, where the Aga, or Turkish Governor of
the district resided. Here we stopped at the caravanserai,
tolerably tired with our morning’s ride of
about seventeen miles, and heartily thankful for our
providential escape. After a good wash, and breakfast,
I sent my janissary, a gallant fellow, to demand an
audience of the Aga, which he granted at midday. I
went accordingly, showed my firman, and then related
my story by means of an interpreter. The Aga was a
fine-looking man, about forty, surrounded by his divan
and a number of well-armed Tartars and guards. He
listened to my tale with the utmost gravity and attention,
and then burst out into a violent rage at the
indignity which I had suffered, and said that such an
insult to an English gentleman had never occurred
before in his district, and he would lose no time in
bringing the offenders to justice. He was most particular
in inquiring as to the place where the offence
had occurred, and the number and description of my
assailants, and then ordered a strong body of well-armed
and well-mounted Tartars to the place, with
strict orders to bring them to him immediately; in the
meantime he ordered coffee and pipes to be served, and
offered me any money I required. He also asked me
where I was going. I told him that I was going
southwards for two or three days. He then said that
upon my return he should be happy to see me again,
when he would have all the culprits in custody for
me, and if I could identify them he would have their
heads taken off directly. I took my leave, with many
thanks for his courtesy; to which he replied, with the
greatest civility, that he was too happy to be of any
service to an Englishman. I left soon afterwards, and
crossed another mountain ridge, passing through a wild,
desolate country, and descended into a fertile valley,
through which a small river wound its tortuous course.
On the way I examined the ruins of the ancient Priene,
seated on a hill on the right side of the valley. Here I
saw considerable remains of some temples of the Ionic
order, besides the relics of numerous other buildings,
which it was very difficult to define. This city was
surrounded by a strong wall of massive masonry, considerable
remains of which were visible. We crossed
the river by a ford, and took up our quarters for the
night amongst the ruins of Miletus. There were only
a few scattered wretched hovels in the vicinity, but
none of them fit for our accommodation; I therefore
preferred the open air, and determined to bivouac
amongst the ruins; as I had already provided myself
and my people with mattresses and coverlets, and a
good supply of provisions, I felt myself comfortable
and independent. I was roused about daybreak by
something tugging hard at my pillow; upon jumping
up I descried a large wolf close by, with several more
near him. I immediately laid hold of a stout stick, and
dealt him a heavy blow on the head. This aroused
Demetrius and the servants, who fired several shots at
the other wolves, and they all scampered off as quickly
as possible, so that we had no further molestation.
Early in the morning I set about examining the
ruins, of which there were but few; the principal was
the theatre, but even of this, except some massive
walls, there was little remaining. I made a sketch,
with the Lake Bofi and the mountains behind it for
a background, the whole forming a very beautiful
picture. We then went on to Yirondi, which we
reached about four o’clock in the afternoon, and got
comfortable quarters in the caravanserai. The next
morning I proceeded to examine the ruins of the
celebrated Temple of Apollo Didymæus. This is one
of the largest and most magnificent specimens of the
Ionic order, and well worthy of the attention of every
traveller who takes an interest in architecture. I was
much pleased with and instructed by it. Of the front
columns several were still standing, and numerous
fragmentary blocks of pillars, entablature, pediment,
and substructure lay scattered all around, the whole
being of the most elaborate workmanship. When entire
it must have been a very magnificent work of art, as
the remains evidently show.
After finishing my examination, I determined to
return to Smyrna as quickly as possible, having much
to do before my tour was completed. I accordingly
started soon after midday, although the weather was
very hot, and the next day I sent my janissary to
request an audience of the Aga, which he granted me
at midday. He then said that he had captured all
the Kurds, and ordered them to be brought from the
prison. Accordingly the whole of them, amounting
to about thirty in number, were produced, and marched
before me slowly, when the Aga asked me if I could
recognize any of them, in which case he would take
care that justice should be administered. I was pretty
well aware what this justice would be, namely, that
their heads would be taken off if I recognized them. I
certainly remembered several of their faces, but having
been robbed only of a few articles, worth about eighty
pounds, I did not consider that the punishment of death
could be put in comparison with my loss, although it is
true they would have murdered me if they could. I
therefore resolved to save them, as they had already
suffered sufficiently by being confined in a miserable
dungeon with scarcely any food for four days. They
were accordingly discharged, having been, as I understood,
pretty well punished, in addition to their
imprisonment, by heavy fines, and perhaps sundry
stripes into the bargain, so that it was not likely that
they would attack an Englishman again. The Tartars
had recovered several of my lost things; for this I made
them a handsome acknowledgment, with which they
were much pleased, and gave me many thanks. I also
rendered my best thanks to the Aga, and we parted
upon the most amicable terms.
Having returned to Smyrna, I there met my friend
Scott, whom I had previously known at Athens, and
we resolved to proceed at once to Constantinople by
land. The first night we reached the modern Magnesia,
a large town situated on a plain, surrounded by
rude crenellated walls, inhabited chiefly by a Turkish
population, and containing nothing worthy of remark.
The following morning we proceeded through an open
undulating country, very fertile, but, as usual, only
partially cultivated. Here and there were extensive
plains, some only tenanted by shepherds tending their
large flocks of goats, cattle, and sheep, others growing
cotton, maize, corn, beans, and tobacco, occasionally
interspersed with vineyards; the inhabitants looked
poor and miserable, and the villages and towns wore
the same appearance.
After a long, hard day’s ride of eighteen hours,
we came in sight of Broussa, the ancient capital of the
Turks. The surrounding country was rich and beautiful,
and covered with luxurious gardens, intermixed
with comfortable villas and houses; the city, with its
numerous mosques and towering minarets, lay in the
foreground; whilst the magnificent Mount Olympus,
above 7000 feet high, rearing his head above the
clouds, formed a noble background. When within a
mile of the city I felt very tired and thirsty. Just then
a countryman approached, and offered us some bunches
of magnificent grapes, which I accepted with much
gratification, and gave him a handsome present. I
devoured them voraciously. We reached the caravanserai
at sunset, and as there were a great number of
travellers, we got but poor accommodation. I awoke
about three in the morning with a violent diarrhœa,
which continually increased, until I became so exhausted
that I could scarcely move. It turned out
to be dysentery, and my friends considered that it must
end fatally. Before leaving England I had consulted
my friend, the late distinguished Dr. James Johnson,
as to what was to be done under similar circumstances,
and he recommended large doses of calomel as
the only and best means of cure. I had provided myself
with this, and took it accordingly, with the
assistance of which I rallied considerably, and we then
determined to proceed at once to Mondania, on the
shores of the Sea of Marmora, where we should find
much better accommodation. Off, therefore, we went,
without being able to see anything further of the
beauties of Broussa. I was much fatigued with the
journey, and immediately after our arrival took to my
bed. Here the dysentery came on more violently than
ever. I again had recourse to a large dose of calomel,
and ordered Demetrius to get some chicken broth as
soon as possible. This the good fellow got ready without
delay. I swallowed as much as I could, and then
fell back on my mattress perfectly exhausted. I was
delirious for four or five hours; but at the end of that
time I broke out into a violent perspiration; the calomel
had done its work effectually, and I became conscious
and tranquil, although very weak. The disease, however,
had been arrested, and I recovered rapidly.
I reached Constantinople at last by sea, and after a
day or two of repose I regained my strength and sallied
forth with a janissary to examine the Moslem capital.
I first paid a visit to our ambassador, Mr. Frere. He
received me most kindly, and asked me to dinner the
next day. The entertainment was sumptuous, and I
spent a delightful evening. I was afterwards frequently
invited to this most hospitable house, and
always received the same kind attention, ever returning
from it both amused and instructed. Mr. Frere was a
very accomplished, unassuming gentleman, ever ready
to protect his countrymen; he discharged his onerous
duties in such a manner as to gain the respect of the
Turks (which was very difficult in those days), as well
as that of the corps diplomatique and foreigners of
every nation, and the respect and affection of his own
countrymen. I also frequently visited the hospitable
house of our worthy and most excellent Consul, General
Cartwright. He was a man above the common order,
and no one was better calculated to deal with the
Turks; frank, open, courageous, honest, and decided,
understanding thoroughly the people he had to deal
with, and never flinching from his duties, firmly
upholding his countrymen when right, but no less
inflexible in refusing his support when wrong. He
was hospitable and sociable to a degree, yet withal
never neglected the least of his duties, and was universally
respected and beloved.
Constantinople has been often described, and is now
so well known that I need not weary my reader with
any detailed description. But as I was there at a time
when the reforms of the Sultan Mahmoud had not
long commenced; when the janissaries were still in
existence; when the old Turkish bigotry, insolence, and
fanaticism was at its height; when the fierce vigour
which had formerly carried out its conquests was
nearly extinct, and European ideas and civilization had
not yet dawned; when, in short, the Government was
most corrupt, and the whole Turkish population sunk
in indolence and sensuality, a few rough notes of what
I then saw may perhaps not be unacceptable.
Amongst the sights during my short stay was the
marriage of one of the Sultan’s daughters, which was
made the occasion of great fêtes, and amongst others a
grand tournament or display of djerid. This consisted
of a number of horsemen extremely well mounted,
each armed with a short blunted dart, which they
hurled at one another, and those who received the
greatest number of hits were declared to be losers
The game was very exciting, and the display of horsemanship
and the activity and skill of the riders were
worthy of the highest admiration.
There was also another sight equally new and beautiful,
the sultan proceeding in state to the mosque of
St. Sophia during the Bairam. It was a very imposing
spectacle, all the actors in it being clothed in the
ancient picturesque costume—long flowing robes of
endless variety of brilliant colours, furs, and turbans of
every shape, those worn by the Sultan and his great
officers mounted in gold and silver and studded with
precious stones. The Sultan’s body guard consisted of
about one hundred fine-looking men wearing dresses
of the most brilliant colours, richly ornamented with
gold embroidery, and having on their heads helmets of
finely polished brass, surmounted by a crescent of the
same metal, being three to four feet long, on the top of
which were fixed plumes of the finest white ostrich
feathers, flowing on all sides. The Sultan, clothed in
a splendid dark sable pelisse, with a green turban
ornamented with the plumes of a bird of paradise, set
in a most costly diamond aigrette, rode in the midst
of them, mounted on a magnificent pure white Arabian
charger, covered with housings richly embroidered with
gold. He was a very handsome, stern, dignified-looking
man, about fifty, with sharp, piercing black
eyes, moustache, and beard; his nose short and well
developed, and a medium-sized, well-defined mouth;
his whole appearance was very stately, grave, and
solemn, expressing majesty, firmness, and courage. As
the procession moved slowly, silently, and majestically
along, through a dense mass of spectators, everyone
was impressed with awe and admiration, and certainly
it was one of the most unique and finest sights of the
kind I had ever witnessed. I afterwards saw a review
of several thousand of the Ottoman troops, consisting
of infantry, cavalry, and artillery. These, though inferior
in discipline and mechanical contrivances to
European armies, nevertheless expressed a degree of
fierce and enthusiastic courage, mixed with a thorough
contempt of Christians, which inspired them with the
confidence that they could overwhelm all their enemies,
and plant the crescent over the cross with triumphant
success.
Constantinople proper was inhabited chiefly by Turks
imbued with the most bigoted hatred and contempt
for Christians, and it was attended with not a little
danger to go amongst them. As I walked boldly
along I was frequently saluted by fierce scowls and
curses loud and deep, and sometimes with a small
shower of stones, which but for the presence of the
janissary, whom they feared, might have been attended
with serious consequences. These janissaries,
a certain number of whom were attached to every
embassy for their protection, were called pig-keepers
by their comrades, who considered them as an inferior
class. The streets for the most part were narrow,
crooked, and dirty to a degree; here and there was a
fine stone mansion, inhabited by some Turkish grandee,
but this presented only a dead stone wall to the street.
The population of the city generally looked poor,
miserable, and oppressed. I tried to visit the mosques,
but the fanaticism of the Ottomans was so great at
that time that no Christian was permitted to enter,
and I was more than once, when trying to penetrate
the outer court of one of them, driven away by a
shower of stones. On the arrival of a fresh ambassador
from any Christian court a special firman, allowing
him to visit the mosques, was issued, when the different
strangers in Constantinople at the time were
allowed to accompany him. The ambassador and suite
on these occasions were always accompanied by a
strong guard of janissaries, for protection. It happened
that a little time previous to my visit the new
Russian ambassador, Count Stroganoff, arrived, and
obtained a special firman to visit the mosques, when
he was accompanied by two or three hundred of his
own countrymen and other strangers, attended by a
strong guard of janissaries. Whilst in one of these
edifices, a Frenchman, it is said, spat upon the pavement;
immediately a cry of horror was uttered by
the priests and assistants, the mosque was defiled;
the alarm was raised, which spread like wildfire, and
the place was quickly surrounded by a vast multitude
of angry Turks, many of whom rushed into the mosque,
shouting for vengeance on the infidels who had desecrated
their temple, and attacking them with the
most savage ferocity. The ambassador and his followers
were obliged to defend themselves and fight for
their lives. The doors were shut, and there they were
obliged to remain until the Government sent another
strong body of janissaries to rescue them from their
perilous situation, which they did with the greatest
difficulty; and whilst they were escorted back through
the streets, they were assailed with yells, curses, and
missiles of every description; many were seriously
hurt, and they had some difficulty in escaping with
their lives.
At Bouyukderé I spent several days at a comfortable
Greek hotel, and was much amused at seeing two or
three grave Turks enter the hotel one evening and
engage a private room. For a time everything went
on quietly. Then came a most tremendous noise, and
shouts of all kinds; in fact, they were getting very
drunk. Then all was silent, and I imagined they were
senseless; but shortly after, to my great surprise, they
sallied forth and entered their boat apparently quite
sober. I afterwards asked the Greek waiter whether the
water they had drunk had rendered them so noisy. He
replied, laughing, “No; they had two bottles of rum
apiece.” He said, farther, that it was their constant
practice, especially during the Ramadan, to go prowling
about in search of some quiet place where they
might indulge. Knowing this, some of the proprietors
of Greek inns, after closing the front door, left a private
one open, and allowed none but Turks to enter, not
even appearing themselves when they did. The Turks,
seeing the coast clear, would enter, and presently find
a room in which was a table covered with good things,
both to eat and drink, whereupon they helped themselves
liberally, and after leaving a handsome donation
on the table, walked out as quietly as they came in,
satisfied with having cheated their religion and satisfied
their appetites without anyone being the wiser.
Constantinople is supplied with water from five
reservoirs, situated on the western base of the Little
Balkan Mountains, and communicating with the city
by stone conduits. They were originally built by the
Byzantine emperors, and their preservation was enforced
by repeated imperial edicts, some of which are
still preserved in the archives of Constantinople; a
heavy fine was imposed, amounting to a pound of gold
for every ounce of water taken from these reservoirs
by any individual without express permission. The
water for Pera is supplied from the southern reservoirs,
near Bagtche, by means of a conduit, upon which are
placed at certain intervals hollow stone columns, called
sous terrasi, which rise to the level of the source from
which the water is taken; the water in the conduit
rises up these pillars nearly to the same level, and
thus acts as a safety valve, overcoming the friction of
the water in the conduit, forcing it forward to the
level required at Pera, and so relieving the pressure
upon the upper surface of the conduit, which otherwise
would be blown up through such a long line,
had it not a vent to relieve the pressure. This ingenious
idea was the invention of the Turks, and
was adopted for the purpose of saving the expense of
the lofty stone aqueducts used by the Romans and
their successors. Some expedient of this kind became
inevitable, as they had no iron pipes large or strong
enough. In modern times a similar device, called the
stand-pipe, is occasionally employed to relieve the
pumping engines; but such is not necessary along the
line of the conduit, because the material of the conduit
is made of cast iron of such dimensions that it
is strong enough to more than amply resist the pressure
of the highest column of water which it may be
necessary to employ.
The whole of the sides of the mountains where the
reservoirs are placed used formerly to be covered with
dense woods, and when I visited the reservoirs in October,
1820, nothing could be more beautiful; but after
the massacre of the janissaries, about a year and a half
subsequent to my visit, a remnant took possession of the
forest, and committed intolerable acts of brigandage,
until the Ottoman Government, thoroughly roused,
surrounded the entire forest with troops, and destroyed
it and its inmates together. There is also a fine aqueduct,
but there can be very little doubt that proper
means are not taken during the rainy season to preserve
and store the water nature then places at their
disposal. If this were done, the serious evil of drought
would be avoided; and means are now being taken to
ensure a more constant and better supply. This scarcity
of water, for the same reason, has been felt in London
and other great cities. We shall continue to suffer
from these droughts until men come to understand
that only a certain and known quantity of water
falls upon the earth, and that at certain periods;
and that it is necessary to store the surplus waters to
supply the deficiency of the dry season. This great truth
is fortunately now beginning to be fully appreciated
in the civilized world, and it is to be hoped that we
shall no longer hear the cry of scarcity of water.
On leaving Constantinople I took passage in a native
vessel for Alexandria. Passing down the Hellespont,
at its narrowest point I remarked the positions selected
by Xerxes for erecting his famous double bridge, or
rather two bridges, one taking a north-west and the
other a north-easterly direction. An ancient author,
Polyænus, says “that they connected together a vast
number of ships of different kinds—some long vessels of
fifty oars, others three-banked galleys—to the number
of three hundred and sixty, on the side towards the
Euxine Sea, and three hundred and thirteen on that
of the Hellespont. The former of these were placed
transversely; but the latter, to diminish the strain
upon the cables, in the direction of the current.
When these vessels were firmly fastened to each other,
they were secured on each side by anchors of great
strength—on the upper side, towards the winds which
set in from the Euxine; on the lower side, towards
the Ægean Sea, on account of the south and south-east
winds. They left, however, openings in three places
sufficient to afford a passage for the light vessels which
might have occasion to sail into the Euxine or from it.
Having done this, they extended cables from the
shore, stretching them upon large capstans of wood.
For this purpose they did not employ a number of
separate cables, but united two of white flax with two
of byblos. These were alike in thickness, and apparently
so in goodness; but those of flax were in proportion
much the more solid, weighing not less than
a talent to every cubit. When the passage was thus
secured, they sawed out rafters of wood, making their
length equal to the space required for the bridge.
These they laid in order across upon the extended
cables, and then bound them fast together. They
next brought unwrought wood, which they placed
very regularly upon the rafters. Over all they threw
earth, which they raised to a proper height, and
finished the whole by a fence on each side, that the
horses and other beasts of burthen might not be
terrified by looking down upon the sea.”
This bridge of boats, for such it may be properly
called, resembled materially those constructed by the
moderns. The addition of the suspension cables, which
connected both ends of the bridge with the shore, must
have contributed greatly to its strength. The floating
bridges used in modern warfare, however, have this
advantage over those constructed by the ancients (of
which that devised by Xerxes was a very favourable
specimen); the boats or pontoons upon which such
bridges are now erected are specially constructed for
the purpose, and an army on the march can carry these
pontoons, like other baggage, and when necessary a
bridge can be built in a very short time. When the
army has passed the river the bridge can readily be
taken to pieces and the materials transported elsewhere,
to serve the same purpose again. An enemy
pursuing, unless provided with similar appliances for
constructing a bridge, would find his farther progress
barred; but in the floating bridges used by the
ancients it was possible for the pursued to erect a
bridge that would be used also by their pursuers. The
floating bridge by which Darius crossed the Bosphorus
is said to have been similar to that contrived by
Xerxes, although no precise record exists to enable
us to ascertain exactly how it was fashioned. Alexander
adopted a different course; taking advantage
of such vessels as he could obtain on the spot, by
rowing or sailing he crossed the particular river or
strait which opposed his march. We have a remarkable
example of a floating bridge on the river Douro
opposite to Oporto, but the bridge erected by Xerxes
seems rather to have resembled that thrown over the
Adour.
The only incident that occurred on our voyage to
Alexandria was furnished by a Turkish Aga, one of
the passengers, who came on board in considerable
state. His attendants spread his carpet on deck, that
he might attend to his devotions. However, the sea
was so rough that directly he appeared on deck he
lost his balance and rolled over and over, which greatly
hurt his dignity. He was very much enraged, and, to
revenge himself, immediately set to work belabouring
the unfortunate captain with his cane, saying that it
was entirely his fault for giving them a foul wind,
though all the time it was blowing most favourably,
though rather too fresh for the Aga’s comfort. I burst
out laughing, but soon checking myself, interceded
for the poor captain and got him off, while the Aga
retired to his cabin and delivered himself over to seasickness.
The situation chosen for the city of Alexandria,
which Alexander the Great founded as the emporium
of the Mediterranean after the destruction of Tyre,
was peculiarly favourable, for the seven mouths of the
Nile at that time existing were ill adapted for the safe
passage of large vessels; all of them were more or less
obstructed by bars, upon which during the stormy
seasons there was a heavy surf, so that it was extremely
dangerous to attempt their navigation. Alexander
therefore resolved to adopt a situation totally independent
of the Nile, and accordingly selected Alexandria,
as being the farthest point from the mouths of that
river, and the least affected by the alluvium brought
down by it, and that which is carried along the shore
by the western littoral current.
At the time the present situation was selected
there was a small island not far from the shore. This
island he connected with the mainland by means of
an embankment faced with masonry, thus forming a
double harbour, namely, one on the eastern side, which
was protected by the promontory bounding the bay;
and one on the western side, protected by a reef of
rocks running in a westerly direction from the original
island, and the projecting point of the bay to the west,
so that the western harbour was tolerably well shielded
on all sides, with the exception of the entrances between
the rocks on the north; but through these only
a comparatively small amount of swell can penetrate.
It contains space for all the vessels that are likely to
frequent this port, and the accommodation may be
further increased, to almost any extent required, by
making docks inland. It is true that in order to
connect this port with the Nile above the bars and
the interior country, a canal or other means of communication
was requisite. A canal at that time was
the only effectual method known, and this was accordingly
adopted, and was made to the Canopic branch
of the Nile, skirting along the shores of the Lake
Mareotis for a considerable distance; but it was frequently
filled up by the sand blown in from the desert
and the adjacent shores. This sand was as constantly
removed, and the communication between Alexandria
and the Nile more or less imperfectly preserved. In
1851 the Pacha completed a line of railway between
Alexandria and Cairo, and thus got rid of the uncertainty
and expense of maintaining the canal and the
river navigation. This railway was made under the
direction of the late eminent engineer, Mr. Robert
Stephenson, and now a perfect and economical communication
is kept up by this means between Alexandria,
Cairo, and the interior.
The eastern harbour of Alexandria, the water being
very shallow, is now scarcely used except for the small
coasting vessels; but it does not appear that in either
the eastern or western harbours there is any material
tendency to shoal.
When I was there, Alexandria, although possessing
considerable trade, was but a poor place compared to
the present city, and all the business of shipping,
transhipping, and storing of goods was carried on in a
very rude and costly manner, which is now materially
changed for the better.
Besides Pompey’s Pillar, the other important relic is
Cleopatra’s Needle, then as now lying prostrate. This
needle was given to the British army, and a large subscription,
amounting it is said to about 20,000l., was
raised to transport it to England, and there to erect it
in some conspicuous place in the metropolis, as a trophy
of the signal success of the British army. For some
reason or other, never properly explained, this has
never been done, although seventy years have elapsed
since the money was subscribed. When I returned
from Upper Egypt, in the month of March, 1821, I
found that the English Government, after repeated
applications, had sent the ‘Spry,’ sloop of war, commanded
by Captain Boswell, with my old friend and
schoolfellow, Captain Wright, of the Royal Engineers,
to report upon the cost, and the best plan for bringing
Cleopatra’s Needle to England; but this all ended in
nothing being done, although Captain Wright’s report
was very favourable, both as to the cost and feasibility.
On reaching Cairo I had an audience with the celebrated
or notorious pasha, Mehemet Ali. He received
me with great dignity and civility, and said that the
English were his best friends, upon which I could not
help saying to myself, Thank God we are not his subjects!
He was no doubt a very remarkable man—cool,
determined, able, and courageous. He reduced the
turbulent rulers and Bedouin tribes of Egypt to subjection,
and procured a degree of tranquillity and peace
for the oppressed inhabitants which they had not enjoyed
for many generations; and if he plundered them
himself, he would allow no one else to do so. Nevertheless,
one cannot but be horrified at the atrocities
with which all this was accompanied and accomplished.
While here I saw a few Mamelukes who had escaped
the massacre of 1809, and who were permitted to reside
here. I was much struck by their martial air, their
richly-embroidered costumes, and superbly mounted
pistols and scimitars. As a body they were nearly
exterminated, the survivors being allowed to subsist on
the little property saved from the wreck. Egypt, like
Constantinople, has since been so well described, and is
now so well known (though at that time my journey
to the second cataract was deemed extraordinary),
that it is unnecessary for me to go over the same
ground.
I hired a khangé, or small boat, manned by a reis, or
captain, and eight rowers, with a tolerably comfortable
raised cabin behind, divided into two parts, in neither
of which, however, could I stand upright. But by
this time I had become pretty well accustomed to
the usages of the country, and my limbs being
tolerably supple, I did not much mind it. I engaged
the khangé at so much per month, I finding provisions
for myself and servants, the reis agreeing to do the
same for himself and his crew. Having stocked my
boat with everything we were likely to require for
four months, I embarked at Bouloe, accompanied by
my servant Demetrius and a janissary. We came to
anchor every night near the most convenient village,
and started next morning soon after daybreak. At
midday I halted for an hour, and sometimes more, in
order to allow the captain and his crew to take their
dinner comfortably, whilst I and my servants took
ours. When the wind was unfavourable the crew were
obliged to row or track the boat against the current;
at such times I used to land and walk along the bank,
gun in hand, exploring the adjacent antiquities or the
surrounding country; and I found that I could easily
keep pace with the boat. Where there was any object
particularly worthy of remark, I had the boat moored
as near to the bank as I could, whilst I went ashore,
examined, sketched, and measured the objects in question
at my leisure, and in this way I took measurements
of all the edifices of any note. When there were none,
I used to indulge in a sporting excursion, and found
ample amusement. I not only procured many interesting
objects of natural history, but shot numerous wild
fowl, that were a very welcome addition to my table.
Thus I passed a very agreeable time. Never idle for
a moment—always employed, either for instruction or
amusement; and my whole time was my own. I
carried my house with me; and when there was
nothing interesting on the route, and I had filled my
book with sketches, if my journal was in arrear, I
used to remain in the boat posting it up, whilst we
were sailing, tracking, or rowing.
On my way up a sad accident deprived me of the
services of my faithful attendant—I may say friend—Demetrius.
We met a boat, having on board the
O’Conor Don, Captain Groding, and another, coming
down. They hailed us, and as they were short of
provisions, I gave them a liberal supply, and invited
them to dinner, the two crews regaling themselves
and firing feux de joie at the same time. Suddenly a
tremendous explosion, followed by a loud cry, was
heard, and hastening on deck I found poor Demetrius
covered with blood from two deep wounds in the
throat and breast, his pistol having burst in his hand.
At first I thought it would have been fatal, the effusion
of blood was so great. I succeeded, however, in tying
up the wounds and stopping the hemorrhage. It was
then a question what should be done with him, as I was
not surgeon enough to cure him, and no advice was to
be had. In this emergency my new friends were so
kind as to offer to take him to Cairo, where he could
be properly attended to. I gladly accepted the offer,
and supplied him with a sufficient sum of money, and
requested them to place him in charge of the Consul,
with directions to procure the best medical advice, for
which I was of course responsible. Independently of
the accident, I was much grieved to part with him,
and was at first greatly at a loss for his services; but
my janissary, an Italian turned Mussulman, and who
spoke Arabic very well, and was not a bad cook, cheerfully
consented to do what he could; and the reis also,
a very civil fellow, as well as his crew, did all in their
power to compensate me for the loss of Demetrius, so
that after a short time we managed between us to get
along pretty well.
I will only add one more incident, because it seems
to show that the serpents used by serpent-charmers
are not always deprived of their fangs, as is usually
supposed, but that there is some real secret which
renders them harmless or powerless. I was measuring
the Temple of Edfou, when I saw a peculiarly venomous
serpent come out of its hole, whilst an Arab boy who
stood by fixed his eye steadily upon it the moment he
saw it, the reptile fixing his eyes on the boy. The
lad began waving his hands gently up and down,
humming a peculiar tune in a low, monotonous tone.
The serpent seemed to be charmed, and lay perfectly
still, listening to and keeping its eyes attentively on
the boy, who, finding that he had charmed it, was
about to secure it; but at this I was so horrified, that
I took up a large stone and killed the reptile. The
boy was very angry, and assailed me with the most
vehement gestures and imprecations, at which I laughed
heartily. I afterwards learned that he was the son
of a serpent-charmer, and was collecting these reptiles
for his father.
In proceeding along the banks of the Nile, I observed
that the land inclined from the margin of the
river to the base of the adjacent hills. This is nothing
more than might have been expected, as it is usual
under all similar circumstances, and is caused by the
periodical inundation. Thus, whenever the river rises
above the margin, the current naturally diminishes in
velocity as it encroaches on the banks, and to a certain
extent becomes stagnant, and then deposits the alluvial
matter with which the waters are charged; and as the
water spreads farther on both sides from the main body
of the river, it becomes clearer, and contains less alluvial
matter. This is a wise provision of nature, for
it enables the waters to extend a long way, and thus
to irrigate a great extent of land. In order to ensure
this irrigation more effectually, it is only necessary
to keep open sufficient channels, which may be done
with facility. But suppose this was not the case;
suppose the land farthest off silted up first, then it
would be necessary, for the purpose of irrigation, to
raise the water by artificial means at considerable
extra cost, to irrigate those lands farthest from the
river. However, in process of time, as the land rises
both at the sides of the river and the parts more
remote from it where they have attained the utmost
level of the floods, recourse must be had to art to irrigate
the lands, otherwise their fertility and cultivation
must cease, as the quantity of rainfall in the lower
valley of the Nile, as it passes through Egypt, is
comparatively trifling; in fact, the fertility of the
country depends almost entirely upon the floods.
It is very probable that these waters might be utilized
to a much greater extent by establishing large reservoirs
in the adjacent valleys, which would be filled
during the rising of the floods; and when these latter
have subsided, the stored-up water could be discharged
during the dry seasons for irrigation, navigation, and
numerous other purposes. According to the present
system, a vast quantity of water is allowed to waste,
and the means of cultivating a large additional tract of
country, now a desert, is lost. This object might be
carried still farther by improving the channel of the
Nile up to the great lakes of Albert and Victoria
Nyanza, for the most part now a marshy, pestiferous
district; this will very probably be done, as the subject
becomes better understood; indeed, it is surprising how
little the advantages which nature offers us in this
respect are turned to account.
The delta of the Nile, like other rivers of the same
class and magnitude under similar circumstances, advances
outwards into the Mediterranean, and in proportion
as it moves forward, the depth of water
increases, and the width of the delta becomes greater,
so that it requires a larger quantity of alluvium to
maintain its progress, which becomes necessarily slower—that
is, as far as concerns the alluvium brought down
by the Nile. But then it must be observed, that as
the delta proceeds outward, the stagnation produced
by the protrusion of its apex into the Mediterranean
causes a greater accumulation of alluvial matter to
be deposited on both sides of the apex, and consequently
two great bays are formed, one on either side,
although the shores of these bays necessarily do not
advance so rapidly as the centre portion. In proportion
as the several branches of the Nile advance seaward,
so their courses become lengthened, and consequently
the total fall or inclination of the current
becomes diminished, so that it cannot keep them all
open; and hence, out of the eight branches or mouths
of the Nile which existed in ancient times, only two
now remain—namely, the Damietta and Rosetta
mouths, and these are slowly deteriorating.
Whilst upon this part of the subject, it may be
advisable to make a few remarks about the Suez Canal.
This great work consists of an open cutting or trench
from the Bay of Pelusium (Port Said) to the Red
Sea at Suez, a total length of 99 miles, 196 feet wide
at top, 72 feet wide at bottom, and 26 feet deep, with
side slopes of 2 to 1. At the Mediterranean end there
is a rise of tide or variation in the surface of the sea of
from 1 foot to 2 feet, and at the Suez end from 2 feet
at neaps to 6 feet at springs.
On the Mediterranean the entrance to the canal is
protected by an artificial harbour composed of two
piers carried from the shore. The western pier is
carried out 2400 yards in a straight line, pointing
towards the north, it then inclines slightly to the east
for 330 yards, so that the total length of the west
breakwater or pier is 2730 yards, or 8190 feet. The
eastern breakwater or pier is carried out from the
shore at a distance of 1530 yards from the commencement
of the western pier, and is extended in a northerly
direction 2070 yards, where it terminates at 760 yards
from extremity of the west pier, which constitutes the
entrance. Thus the two piers enclose a space of 500
acres, with a depth within of 26 feet. This harbour is
said to be well protected against the prevailing or north-west
winds.
This outer harbour, called Port Said, is connected
with extensive quays and basins within, from whence
the canal proceeds across the isthmus. At 52 miles
from Port Said there is Lake Timsah; also Lake
Ismaila and the Bitter Lakes, at 57 miles from Port
Said. These Bitter Lakes cover a surface of about
100,000 acres, and will always ensure a considerable
draught or current from the Red Sea, to compensate
for the large amount of evaporation which is constantly
going on, particularly during the summer season,
and is said to amount to about 250,000,000 cubic
feet daily. In order to supply fresh water to Suez,
Ismaila, and Port Said, a considerable channel has been
made from the Nile, at Cairo, to Suez and Ismaila, and
a double line of cast-iron pipes between Ismaila and
Port Said, with pumping engines of the requisite
power at the former place.
The entrance to the Suez end of the canal is formed
by an extensive double embankment through the shoal
water, increasing gradually from a width of 72 feet at
bottom, to 980 feet, where there is an open tidal dock,
with 26 feet depth at low water.
This is no doubt a very extraordinary performance,
rendered remarkable for the vast amount of capital
which has been raised by a single individual—not an
engineer—and the wonderful energy and perseverance
with which he has accomplished it, opposed by innumerable
obstacles, political and financial, which would
have daunted and overwhelmed any person of ordinary
physical powers. Although as an engineering work
it is encountered by no unusual difficulties in the execution—being
simply a matter of digging and dredging
upon a vast scale—yet it certainly entitles M. Lesseps
and his officers to the greatest credit.
Having now generally described the canal, let us
consider how far natural obstacles exist which should
cause any doubts as to its being possible to maintain
the canal at such an expense as will enable it to produce
something like a reasonable profit upon the capital
expended in making it.
These obstacles may be enumerated as follows:
Firstly. The alluvial matter brought down by the
Nile, and that from the prevailing littoral westerly
current in the Mediterranean.
Secondly. The sands driven by the north-westerly
winds into Port Said.
Thirdly. The sands driven into Suez by the southerly
winds.
Fourthly. The sands driven into the canal from the
surrounding deserts by the kamsin, or south-east winds.
Fifthly. From the great evaporation which will take
place, and the consequent requirement of a corresponding
supply of water both from the Mediterranean and
the Red Sea.
Sixthly. Whether the expenses which must necessarily
be incurred in overcoming these obstacles will
amount to such a sum as will render the canal practically
useless, that is to say, that it will not be worth
the while of the Company to maintain it.
Before considering these important questions, it will
be right to investigate the natural causes which have
formed the Isthmus of Suez. I think we may conclude
that Africa was originally an island, and that by degrees
the waters of the Red Sea, driven in by the southerly
winds, and those of the Mediterranean, driven by the
northerly winds, brought with them a great quantity
of alluvial matter; at the junction of these waters the
currents would be destroyed, and the alluvium with
which the waters were charged would be deposited and
form a bank or bar, which by degrees rose above the
ordinary level of the sea. This bank, once formed,
would continually increase, not only from the alluvium
brought in by the seas, but also from the sands blown
in by the northerly and southerly winds from the surrounding
deserts; and thus, in the process of time, the
present isthmus would be formed. I think that the
practical evidence of this is undoubted. The same
operations are still in existence, and it is simply a
question of time as to the increase.
Having discussed the cause of the formation of the
isthmus, I will now proceed to consider the objections
or obstacles above mentioned. With regard to the
first, the waters of the Nile are constantly bringing
down alluvial matter, but whether the quantity brought
down now is the same as formerly, or greater or less,
is a question which nothing but experience can decide.
But as far as experiments have already been made, it
appears that the accumulation which has already taken
place is considerable, and if it proceeds in the same
ratio as hitherto, it must shortly become a very serious
question whether it should be removed or not, and
whether it might not be remunerative to do so.
Secondly. With regard to the sands driven in by the
northerly winds; these must be very considerable, and
not being able to escape, they must accumulate and
tend to fill up the harbour; this will necessitate constant
dredging to keep it open.
Thirdly. The sands driven by the tide and the
southerly winds into the Suez end of the canal. These
also must be very considerable, as is already evinced
by the great extent of shallow water at the northern
extremity of the Red Sea. This also must be reduced
by dredging.
Fourthly. With regard to the quantity of sand which
may be expected to be driven into the other parts of
the canal from the surrounding deserts, during the
winter and spring prevailing kamsin, or southeasterly
gales. This quantity has been proved by one
year’s experience to be not less than 310,000 cubic
yards, and at times it may possibly be much more. It
is proposed to check this by planting the sides of the
canal with trees. Still a great deal of dredging must
be constantly required.
Fifthly. The evaporation from the Bitter Lakes, and
parts of the canal adjacent, is said to be 250,000,000
cubic feet of water, which is equivalent to about three-quarters
of an inch daily. This water will have to be
supplied chiefly from the Red Sea; and as it will have
to pass through such a narrow channel, the velocity of
the current will probably amount to two or three miles
per hour, and if the banks of the canal are not well
secured by paving, or similar works, they will be liable
to be seriously affected. The constant indraught of the
current will impede vessels coming from the Mediterranean,
whilst it will facilitate the passage of vessels
coming from the Red Sea; and in the same manner
there will be a constant current from the Mediterranean,
but by no means to so great an extent. These
currents will also very probably bring in a considerable
quantity of alluvium. They will not, however, very
materially interfere with the passage of steam-vessels,
although, if the latter are permitted to go at full speed,
the waves produced by them will scour away the sides
considerably, unless well protected by stone paving,
fagoting, or similar works.
Upon the whole, viewing the difficulties above mentioned,
the question naturally arises, whether they are of
such a character as to be insurmountable; and to this
I think we may safely say that they are not. What
has been done once, as has been proved by the completion
of the canal, can be done again, and will be
maintained with much less difficulty. So far, therefore,
viewed simply as a work of engineering, it resolves
itself into a question of cost, or in other words, will the
work pay as a commercial speculation, seeing that it
has already cost 20,000,000l., and a great deal more
is still required before it can be said to be quite complete,
besides a very large sum for annual maintenance,
and what this last item will be it is very difficult to
decide, and nothing but experience can prove; still the
more the canal becomes known, the more in all probability
will it be used, and therefore the more money
will be available for keeping it in repair. In addition
to the dredging, it is very probable that the piers, both
at Port Said and Suez, will have to be extended considerably.
The whole of the valley of the Nile, from the head
of the delta below Cairo, is bordered by ridges of sandstone
hills a few hundred feet high, with generally a
plain monotonous tableland above, intersected by numerous
ravines; no granite appears until we reach
Assouan. In the vicinity of this place there are numerous
quarries of fine granite, chiefly red; the masses
are so compact that blocks of almost any size may be
obtained from near the surface. From this district all
the granite for the obelisks, statues, and columns of
the various buildings, temples, and pyramids on both
sides of the valley have been taken. Transported in
flat-bottomed boats and rafts to the places where they
were intended to be used, they were landed by means
of inclined planes of wood, with rollers, and wedges,
assisted by numerous rough capstans or windlasses,
worked by countless gangs of men. This work appears
to have been done with considerable skill, and the
necessary combined operations were carried on simultaneously,
by means of well-concerted signals. These
operations are very clearly explained by the sculptured
figures, and have been published by Sir Gardner
Wilkinson and others.
Whilst examining the granite quarries near Assouan,
I observed several imperfect blocks, which the Egyptians
had commenced quarrying, but found them
defective, and ceased working them. The mode of
quarrying seems to have been nearly the same as we
employ at the present time, namely, by wedges, levers,
and pickaxes. Even if gunpowder had been known
it would have been of very little use, for it would have
in most cases destroyed the blocks, and the waste would
have been enormous.
It does not quite clearly appear of what metal the
tools were composed with which they worked the
granite, whether of iron or bronze; if of the former, it
must have been case-hardened. The polishing would
be done by attrition with emery or sharp silicious
sand. As for the stone, being sandstone, it was easily
worked, and softer tools only were required.
As soon as I got back to Alexandria my first inquiries
were for poor Demetrius. To my great delight I found
him quite recovered, and overjoyed at seeing me; but
he said he had been very ill for six weeks, and had
several times considered himself dying. I immediately
set to work making arrangements for my journey overland
to Palestine, when I was suddenly interrupted by
letters from my father, saying that he was very unwell,
and wishing me to come back as soon as possible. I
instantly dismissed Demetrius with a very handsome
gratuity, discontinued my preparations, and, through
Mr. Lee, our Consul at Alexandria, hired a passage to
Malta in a merchant vessel. I was, however, laid up
for several days at Cairo with fever, which was not
pleasant, as the plague was then raging. As soon as I
was sufficiently recovered I proceeded to Alexandria,
where I found that the merchantman had already sailed.
However, as I have said before, Captain Boswell, with
H.M. sloop, the ‘Spry,’ was there, having Captain
Wright on board, and the latter having finished his
report on Cleopatra’s Needle, the sloop was about to
return to Malta, and they very kindly offered me a
passage. This I gladly accepted, and on arriving at
Malta found that the plague had broken out on board
the merchantman in which I had engaged a passage,
and that several of the crew had died. She was then
in quarantine, and before long everyone on board
died of the plague, and I saw the ship burnt. I humbly
thanked an all-merciful Providence for its inscrutable
dispositions.
At Malta, though better, I still retained the fever,
and consulted Dr. Groves, the head of the naval medical
department. He looked very grave and said little, but
recommended me to go to England as soon as possible,
while he told a friend of mine that he did not think
I should recover, the fever having taken such hold of
my constitution. However, by the aid of bark and port
wine I became temporarily myself, and as soon as I was
able I proceeded to pay my visits. I called on the
Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean squadron,
Sir Graham Moore, who gave me every assistance in
his power, and introduced me to Admiral Woolley,
chief of the dockyard, to whom and his amiable wife
I owe my gratitude for their kind hospitality. They
introduced me to Sir Manly Power, the commander
of the military forces, and from him and the various
messes of the regiments composing the garrison I
met with the most friendly reception. I here made
the acquaintance of Mr. Strutt, one of the sons of
Mr. Strutt, of Belper, and with him I explored both
Malta and Gozo. He shortly after left for Greece and
the East, where he died of malaria, which I much regretted,
as he was a remarkably fine, intelligent, and
spirited young man.
While I was here His Majesty George IV.’s birthday
was celebrated with the greatest éclat. At twelve o’clock
the entire garrison was reviewed by Sir Manly Power,
with the usual salutes from the forts and ships of war.
At sunset all the guns on the works were fired.
This was a magnificent sight, and, that I might see it
properly, I was invited to dine at the artillery mess at
St. Elmo, from whence the first gun was fired; this was
taken up by fort after fort until the entire fortress
seemed in a blaze, and the whole was terminated by a
magnificent bouquet of rockets.
I embarked for Naples on board a cutter commanded
by Mr. Thurtle, one of the oldest midshipmen in the
navy. He was a very peculiar and rather eccentric
character, rough and sarcastic in manner, an excellent
sailor, and a kind-hearted man. His long service
and great experience rendered him well known
throughout the navy, and his wit and good-humour
made him a favourite wherever he went; in fact, he
was a privileged person throughout the fleet, and
enabled to assume a character which few officers of
far higher rank thought of attempting. Unfortunately
he was the brother of that daring and dissipated
criminal who shortly afterwards murdered
his companion, Welsh, at Elstree, for which he was
hanged at the Old Bailey. This was a sad blow to the
poor midshipman, and one from which I afterwards
heard that he never recovered. My voyage with him
was most agreeable. He was very kind and attentive,
full of fun and humour, yet never for a moment
neglecting his duties, and he kept his crew and ship
in the most perfect order.
On landing at Naples I got apartments in the Gran
Bretagna (then, and I believe now, the principal hotel),
with more ease than usual, in consequence of the rapid
advance of an Austrian army, thirty thousand strong,
commanded by General Baron Pirmont, at the request
of the King of Naples. I saw them enter, and very fine
troops they were, especially the Tyrolese yagers. Later
on, when I wished to make an excursion to Pæstum, I
obtained, through the kindness of the colonel of the
regiment, two Tyrolese corporals as escort. They sat,
rifle in hand, on the box of my carriage, and mounted
guard while I sketched. We saw several ill-looking
fellows, armed, prowling about, but none dared venture
within reach of the rifles. Letters from my father
reached me here, saying that he was a good deal better,
and that there was no necessity for my hurrying; I
therefore, while still hastening home, thought I might
allow myself a few days on the road to visit those
objects of interest which I had previously omitted.
While at Naples I also examined an open pier, of
which there are numerous specimens about the bay.
This pier is constructed in a peculiar manner of pozzolana
mixed up with irregular-shaped pieces of brick,
marble, and tufa, or volcanic stone. The piers were
formed by enclosing the space in a wooden dam or
box, then filling it with the materials above mentioned,
which after a short time set under water, and became
a solid mass; the cofferdam was then removed and
the pier left standing; then another was constructed
in the same manner, until the required number were
completed; upon these piers arches were built, and
upon the top of them a roadway and parapet were
constructed. The piers were about the same thickness,
or rather greater, than the span of the arches. The
object of the openings and piers was to provide a
barrier which should be just sufficient to break the
swell, but not large enough to obstruct the current,
as the latter prevented any sediment from accumulating
on either side of the pier. This is a very ingenious
and novel mode of constructing piers, and it is
strange that a like method has not been adopted in
England, where the vast quantity of alluvial matter
carried by the currents along our coasts accumulates
round solid piers, and frequently fills up the harbours,
rendering them almost useless, unless the accumulated
matter be removed by dredging at continual expense.
Whilst breakfasting at the hotel at Pozzoli I felt an
attack of my old enemy, the malaria fever, coming on;
I therefore got back to Naples as soon as possible, and
was obliged to go to bed, and there I remained for
several days perfectly helpless. Thinking it would leave
me, I did not send for medical advice. However, finding
myself gradually getting worse, I was recommended
to send for Dr. Roskilly, formerly an army surgeon,
who had now established himself at Naples as a
physician, and from his well-known skill and courteous
manners had obtained considerable practice, particularly
amongst the English. He came, and I found
him such as described; he examined me carefully, and,
after a considerable time of grave consideration, he
said that I was in a very bad way, that the fever had
got such a strong hold of me that it was continually
undermining my constitution, and that, if not speedily
arrested, he could not answer for the consequences;
indeed, I might not live to see England. The worthy
doctor, with whom I was much pleased, then left, and
promised to return the next day at the same time, which
he did. He then said that he had given my case his
utmost consideration, and he was more than ever convinced
that some decisive measure was necessary. My
constitution was still good, and strong enough for the
measure he would propose; and if I would submit to
him, he felt confident that he could carry me through.
He explained his remedy, which was nothing more or
less than that I should take blue pill, as much as I
was able; this, he said, would thoroughly eradicate
the fever. I accordingly consented, as my case was
desperate. It succeeded completely after about a fortnight’s
trial. I felt very weak, but I was entirely a
different man. I soon began to recover strength and
appetite, and in about another week I was enabled to
go out, and became myself again. No doubt the
remedy was severe, but I must in justice to the able
doctor say that he perfectly cured me; for although in
after life I was frequently exposed to malaria influence
in the fens of Lincolnshire, Walcheren, the worst parts
of Holland, Tunis, and elsewhere, I never had an attack
of the malaria fever.
On my way northwards I stopped two days at Mola
di Gaeta, where the Apennines approach the sea, and
where are numerous traces of the villas of the old
Roman aristocracy; it was well I did so, for the
brigands had mustered in great strength in the adjoining
mountains, and committed many atrocities;
amongst other things, they had just carried off a
number of pupils from a neighbouring school. The
Austrians, who were there in great force, at the request
of the local authorities came to the rescue. A very
strong patrol of cavalry kept the main roads, while
a still more numerous body of Tyrolese swept the
valleys and penetrated the recesses of the mountains.
The brigands at first defied their pursuers, but finding
themselves hard pressed, they killed their unfortunate
prisoners. On hearing this the Austrians attacked at
once, and having slain a great number, made the rest
prisoners. I saw about thirty chained together, who,
I believe, were all shot the next day. The road being
now clear, I resumed my journey.
At Florence I carefully examined and measured the
celebrated bridge of the Most Holy Trinity, by Ammanati,
across the Arno, near the Gran Bretagna. This
beautiful structure, a masterpiece in the art of bridge-building,
consists of three arches; the arches may be
termed semi-elliptic, slightly pointed at the crown;
perhaps they might be more appropriately termed
Gothi-elliptic. The slight pointing at the crown may
have been done to allow for sinking, which did not take
place to the extent calculated upon. Each of the arches
is surrounded with a moulded archivolt of equal thickness
throughout, with an ornamented scroll or shield in
the centre of the spandril walls supporting the roadway,
which is bounded by a solid panelled bridge. The
piers are terminated by acute angular buttresses carved
up to the top, and panelled also. The whole is built
of marble, and is certainly one of the lightest, most
elegant, and most scientific structures of the kind in
existence. Some doubts as to its stability have existed
at various times; nevertheless, it still exists without a
flaw, and as a model to engineers and architects.
I visited the magnificent picture gallery of the
Palazzo Pitti, replete with choice specimens of the great
Italian masters. The palace itself is a fine example of
the simple, massive, rusticated style, devoid of ornament.
The effect is imposing, and shows what may be
done by bold, well-defined masses, without resorting to
that exuberant over-ornamented style, intermixed with
all sorts of coloured marble, so much the fashion of the
present day, particularly in England, where the climate
is peculiarly unsuited for it; in any case it can only be
termed a vitiated taste. If the building is well designed
and properly grouped in effective masses, so as to give
well-defined portions of light and shade, there can be no
need of extraneous ornaments, as they only detract from
the general effect; and where a building is not well
designed no ornament can render it effective.
The port of Leghorn consisted of several solid stone
piers, which did not appear to be laid out in the most
scientific manner, and considerable improvements were
in contemplation when I saw it. The great difficulty
it has to contend with is the quantity of alluvial matter
brought down by the Arno, which spreads along the
coast for some distance both to the north and south. This
might be obviated by judiciously adopting the principle
of open piers, as invented by the Romans, so as to
allow the littoral current full scope; this would sweep
away the alluvium as fast as it was deposited, and the
requisite protection from westerly winds might be
easily obtained if the works were constructed on a
proper system.
Passing by Carrara, I was much struck by the waste
consequent on the clumsy method of working the
quarries, and of transporting and loading the blocks.
It occurred to me at the time how easy it would be
to construct an iron tramway from the quarries to the
shore, with a suitable pier furnished with powerful
derricks at its termination, and this, with proper machinery
for quarrying, all of which would have cost
but little, would materially reduce the price of the
marble, and consequently increase the demand.
As I passed the magnificent and well-protected Gulf
of Spezzia, I thought, “What a splendid site for a
naval arsenal!” This idea has now been at least partially
carried into effect, and if the works are properly
designed and executed, it ought to be one of the finest
in Europe.
The morning after my arrival at Genoa I arose early,
quite refreshed, and went first to the harbour, which I
had always heard was one of the finest works of the
kind in the world, and as such my excellent father
expected that I should give him a complete account of
it. I therefore examined it very minutely, and took
great pains in tracing, sketching, and measuring it,
when I could do so without being observed, for there
was a good deal of jealousy about it. At first sight I
was very much struck by the extent and magnificence
of the bay, with the fine old town rising like a vast
amphitheatre of palaces round it, surrounded by a huge
circle of forts which crowned the summits of the hills;
and by the great extent and massiveness of the two
outer moles, the depth of water enclosed within them
being capable of receiving at all times the largest
vessels of war. But when I began to examine more
narrowly I found that there, was a great error in
the design of the main or outer moles. The southern,
which was the longest, consisted of two arms, the
outer one inclining inward at a considerable angle,
whilst the northern mole consisted of a single straight
line projecting from the shore in a south-south-west
direction, so that the entrance pointed south-south-west,
and was consequently exposed to the full
effect of the severe gales which blow up the Gulf
of Lyons during the winter and autumn months;
the consequence is that during severe gales from this
quarter a heavy swell sets into the entrance and produces
such a strong current throughout the interior of
the harbour that vessels in front of the town and under
the southern mole can scarcely ride with safety at their
moorings. This is a serious defect, and it might be
easily remedied, although up to the present I have not
heard that anything has been done. In the construction
of the works there was nothing particular to find
fault with, but there was a serious error committed in
the disposal of the sewage; the whole of this was discharged
into the harbour, so that in hot weather a
most disagreeable effluvia arose in front of the lower
part of the town; moreover, it caused the accumulation
of a considerable quantity of alluvial matter.
This had to be removed by constant dredging, in
which convict labour was employed. The alluvium
was emptied into lighters and sent out to sea to be
discharged. The old arsenal was situated at the south-east
corner of the inner harbour; it was quite unequal
to the requirements of modern times.
While I was at Genoa an accident occurred by which
my old acquaintance the sloop ‘Spry’ was nearly lost.
Captain Boswell, having served his time, had been
succeeded by another captain, who, contrary to strict
rule, had his wife on board. The evening on which
the captain had given orders to prepare for sailing
there happened to be a grand ball in the town, and
the lady persuaded her husband to take her, and defer
sailing to the morrow. By this time the ‘Spry’ had left
the harbour, and lay at single anchor outside the north
mole. During the night a strong gale sprung up from
the south. As the ship could not regain her old
position the officer in command let go two more
anchors, but two cables having parted she dragged her
third anchor, and was driven close to the rocks. No
assistance could be given from the shore, and, as her
position seemed hopeless, the officers and crew took to
their boats, and managed to get off in safety. To the
astonishment of everybody, however, the last cable
held, and the recoil of the waves, so close was she to
the rocks, actually prevented her from striking, and so
she remained until the gale abated, and the ship was
saved. The odd part of it was, that when the crew
were about leaving the ship my old friend Dr. Biggar
was asleep in the cabin, and when aroused flew into a
violent rage, and threw a bootjack at the head of the
midshipman who woke him. After several ineffectual
attempts, the midshipman was obliged to leave him,
and he turned round and slept soundly till the morning.
Judge of his surprise when he awoke and found
what had happened during the night!
After passing rapidly through France, I embarked
from Boulogne, September 23, 1821, in a small packet,
during a very strong gale, with about fifty other passengers.
The following day we started with the morning’s
tide with about seventy passengers, of whom Colonel
Hylton Jolliffe, a friend of my father’s, was one. We
left Boulogne about eleven, and reached Dover at
2 P.M.; I directly started by coach for London, and
reached my father’s, 27, Stamford Street, the same
night. I found him in very bad health, lying upon
the sofa in the principal front bedroom; he was glad
to see me.
He continued in the same weak state, although in
perfect possession of all his great faculties, dictated to
me several letters on business, and talked of sundry
new works that he was about to undertake, particularly
the new London Bridge, and the removal of
the old one, which had been for some time under discussion
in Parliament; a Bill for this purpose had
actually been introduced during the past session, and
my father had been requested to prepare a design
for it, which he did, and it was very similar to
that since executed by myself. My father’s bodily
health appeared to decline gradually; he was confined
almost to the sofa, and could do little more than walk
across the room; in this manner he continued until
the 3rd of October. He went to bed as usual, perfectly
sensible and composed, and hoped that he would soon
be better, as he was most anxious to return to business
and make up for lost time. I went to his room on
the morning of the 4th of October, and found that a
considerable change for the worse had taken place; he
seemed to be in much pain, and was walking about the
room, evidently scarcely knowing what he was about.
I got him into bed, and immediately sent for his physician,
Dr. Ainslie, who had known him all his life, but
he was unfortunately out of town. The apothecary,
Mr. Welbank, came, and we consulted together as to
whom we should send for, and ultimately summoned
Dr. Roberts, who, although in good practice, had
never seen my father, and consequently knew nothing
of his constitution or complaints. He did the best he
could, but evidently thought the case was very serious.
My father lay in bed all day, almost unconscious,
although I thought he knew me. I remained with him
nearly the whole day, and about five o’clock in the
afternoon he appeared to be sinking fast, and breathed
very heavily, which alarmed us all excessively. In a
short time this ceased, his features began gradually to
relax, and he breathed his last at half-past five on
the afternoon of the 4th of October, 1821, in the sixty-first
year of his age.
The disease which killed my poor father was that of
the kidneys and liver, as far as we could ascertain. All
my brothers and sisters were assembled round his deathbed.
It was a sad, sad sight, and afflicted us most
severely; we had, however, the melancholy satisfaction
of having done all in our power, though of no avail, to
arrest the fatal event. He was universally known and
respected; the news of his death spread immediately
throughout the town, the public papers were filled
with leading articles giving accounts of his public and
private life, and everybody deplored his loss. One of
the most powerful and touching articles was written
by his talented friend Perry, the proprietor of the
‘Morning Chronicle,’ who was then at Brighton in
bad health, and died there three months afterwards.
It seemed to be the universal wish that he who had
rendered so many services to his country and was so
generally beloved, should be buried in St. Paul’s, and
arrangements were made accordingly. The funeral
took place a few days afterwards, at eleven o’clock,
and he was attended to his last resting-place by a vast
concourse of literary, scientific, and private friends.
The late talented John Wilson Croker, Esq., then First
Secretary of the Admiralty, wrote the epitaph, which
was composed in the most feeling and scholar-like
manner for which that able gentleman was so particularly
well qualified.