The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Visit to the Holy Land, by Ida Pfeiffer,
Translated by H. W. Dulcken
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Title: A Visit to the Holy Land
Author: Ida Pfeiffer
Release Date: June 8, 2004 [eBook #12561]
Language: English
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VISIT TO THE HOLY LAND***
This ebook was prepared by Les Bowler, St. Ives, Dorset.
VISIT TO THE HOLY LAND, EGYPT, AND ITALY
[Illustration 1. Frontispiece:--JERUSALEM. ill1.jpg]
By Madame Ida Pfeiffer.
Translated from the German by H. W. Dulcken.
[Illustration 2. Title-page:--NAZARETH. ill2.jpg]
PREFACE BY THE VIENNA PUBLISHER
For two centuries the princes and nations of the West were
accustomed to wander towards the land of the morning. In vain was
the noblest blood poured forth in streams in the effort to wrest the
country of our heavenly Teacher from the grasp of the infidel; and
though the Christian Europe of the present day forbears to renew a
struggle which, considering the strength that has been gradually
increasing for the last six hundred years, might prove an easy one,
we cannot wonder that millions of the votaries of Christianity
should cherish an earnest longing to wander in the paths the
Redeemer has trod, and to view with their own eyes the traces of the
Saviour's progress from the cradle to the grave.
In the generality of cases, however, the hardships, dangers, and
difficulties of such a journey were sufficient to overthrow the
bravest resolution; and thus the wishes of the majority remained
unfulfilled.
Few _men_ were found to possess the degree of strength and endurance
requisite for the carrying out of such an undertaking; but that a
delicate lady of the higher classes, a native of Vienna, should have
the heroism to do what thousands of men failed to achieve, seemed
almost incredible.
In her earliest youth she earnestly desired to perform this journey;
descriptions of the Holy Land were perused by her with peculiar
interest, and a book of Eastern travel had more charms for her than
the most glowing accounts of Paris or London.
It was not, however, until our Authoress had reached a riper age,
and had finished the education of her sons, that she succeeded in
carrying into effect the ardent aspiration of her youth.
On the 2d of March, 1842, she commenced her journey alone, without
companions, but fully prepared to bear every ill, to bid defiance to
every danger, and to combat every difficulty. That this undertaking
should have succeeded may almost be looked upon as a wonder.
Far from desiring publicity, she merely kept a diary, in order to
retain the recollections of her tour during her later life, and to
impart to her nearest relatives the story of her fortunes. Every
evening, though often greatly exhausted with heat, thirst, and the
hardships of travel, she never failed to make notes in pencil of the
occurrences of the day, frequently using a sand-mound or the back of
a camel as a table, while the other members of the caravan lay
stretched around her, completely tired out.
It was in the house of my friend Halm that I first heard of this
remarkable woman, at a time when she had not yet completed her
journey; and every subsequent account of Madame Pfeiffer increased
my desire to make her acquaintance.
In manners and appearance I found her to resemble many other women
who have distinguished themselves by fortitude, firmness of soul,
and magnanimity; and who are in private life the most simple and
unaffected, the most modest, and consequently also the most
agreeable of beings.
My request to read our Authoress's journal was granted with some
timidity; and I am ready to assert that seldom has a book so
irresistibly attracted me, or so completely fixed my attention from
beginning to end, as this.
The simple and unadorned relation of facts, the candour, combined
with strong sound sense, which appear throughout, might put to shame
the bombastic striving after originality of many a modern author.
The scheme and execution of the work are complete and agreeable;
strict truth shines forth from every page, and no one can doubt but
that so pure and noble a mind must see things in a right point of
view. This circumstance is sufficient in itself to raise the book
above many descriptions of travel to the Holy Land, whose authors,
trusting to the fact that their assertions could not easily be
disproved, have indulged their fancy, seeking to impart interest to
their works by the relation of imaginary dangers, and by
exaggeration of every kind, for the sake of gaining praise and
admiration. Many such men might blush with shame on reading this
journal of a simple, truth-loving woman.
After much trouble I succeeded in persuading the Authoress to allow
her journal to appear in print.
My efforts were called forth by the desire to furnish the reading
public, and particularly the female portion, with a very interesting
and attractive, and at the same time a strictly authentic picture of
the Holy Land, and of Madame Pfeiffer's entire journey.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. Departure from Vienna--Scene on board the steamer--
Hainburg--Presburg--The "Coronation-mount"--Pesth--Ofen--The steamer
Galata--Mohacs--The fortress Peterwardein--Discomfort and bad
management on board the steamer--Semlin--Belgrade--Pancsova--
Austrian soldiers--The rock Babakay--Drenkova--Falls of Danube--Alt-
Orsova--The "Iron Gate"--Cattle-breeding--Callafat--Vexatious delay
CHAPTER II. Giurgewo--Interior of the town--Braila--Sanitary
precautions--Galatz--Scarcity of good water--Ridiculous fear of the
plague--The steamer Ferdinand--Entrance into the Black Sea--Stormy
weather and sea-sickness--Arrival at Constantinople--Picturesque
appearance of the city--Mosques--The dancing Dervishes--The Sultan
and his barge--Pera--The great and little Campo--Wild dogs--Dirty
state of the streets--Preparations in case of fire
CHAPTER III. Scutari--Kaiks--The howling Dervishes--The
Achmaidon, or place of arrows--The tower in Galata--The bazaar at
Constantinople--Mosques--Slave-market--The old Serail--The
Hippodrome--Coffee-houses--Story-tellers--Excursion to Ejub--Houses,
theatres, and carriages
CHAPTER IV. Walks and drives of the townspeople--The "Sweet
Waters"--Chalcedonia--Baluklid--The great and little Campo--Feasts
in Constantinople--Anniversary of Mahomet's death--Easter holydays
of the Greeks--Gladiators and wrestlers--Excursion to Brussa--Olive-
trees--Mosques at Brussa--Stone bridge--Wild dogs--Baths and mineral
springs--Return to Constantinople
CHAPTER V. Contradictory reports--Departure from Constantinople
on board the Archduke John--Scene on the steamer--Galipoli--The
Dardanelles--Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar--The field of Troy--
Tenedos--Smyrna--Halizar--The date-palm--Burnaba--The Acropolis--
Female beauty--Rhodes--Strong fortifications--Deserted appearance of
the town--Cyprus
CHAPTER VI. Arrival at Beyrout--Fellahs--Backsheesh--
Uncomfortable quarters--Saida--Tyre--St. Jean d'Acre--Caesarea--
Excursion among the ruins--Jaffa--An Eastern family--The Indian fig-
tree--An Oriental dinner--Costume of the women of Jaffa--Oppressive
heat--Gnats--Ramla--Syrian convents--Bedouins and Arabs--Kariet el
Areb, or Emmaus--The scheikh--Arrival at Jerusalem
CHAPTER VII. Residence at Jerusalem--Catholic church--The "Nuova
Casa"--Via dolorosa--Pilate's house--The Mosque Omar--Herod's house--
Church of the Holy Sepulchre--Disturbances at the Greek Easter
feasts--Knights of the Holy Sepulchre--Mount of Olives--Adventure
among the ruins--Mount of Offence--Valley of Jehosaphat--Siloam--
Mount Sion--Jeremiah's Grotto--Graves
CHAPTER VIII. Bethlehem--Rachel's grave--Convent at Bethlehem--
Beggars--Grotto of the Nativity--Solomon's cisterns--St. John's--
Franciscan church at Jerusalem--Mourning women--Eastern weddings--
Mish-mish--Excursion to the Jordan and the Dead Sea--Wilderness near
Jerusalem--Convent of St. Saba
CHAPTER IX. Ride through the wilderness to the Dead Sea--The
Dead Sea--The river Jordan--Horde of Bedouins--Arab horses--The
Sultan's well--Bivouac in the open air--Return to Jerusalem--
Bethany--Departure from Jerusalem--Jacob's grave--Nablus or Sichem--
Sebasta--Costume of Samaritan woman--Plain of Esdralon--Sagun
CHAPTER X. Arrival at Nazareth--Franciscan convent--Tabarith--
Mount Tabor--Lake of Gennesareth--Baths--Mount Carmel--Grotto of the
prophet Elijah--Acre--The pacha's harem--Oriental women--Their
listlessness and ignorance--Sur or Tyre
CHAPTER XI. River Mishmir--Saida--Arnauts--Desert-path--
Residence of Lady Hester Stanhope--Beyrout--The consul's--
Uncomfortable quarters--Sickness--The Bazaar--Vexatious delays--
Departure from Beyrout--Beautiful views--Syrian costumes--Damascus--
Aspect of the city--House of the consul
CHAPTER XII. The bazaar at Damascus--The khan--Grotto of St.
Paul--Fanaticism of the inhabitants--Departure from Damascus--The
desert--Military escort--Heliopolis or Balbeck--Stupendous ruins--
Continuation of our voyage through the desert--The plague--The
Lebanon range--Cedar-trees--Druses and Maronites--Importunate
beggars--Thievish propensities of the Arabs
CHAPTER XIII. The Lebanon--Druses and Maronites--Illness of Herr
Sattler--Djebel or Byblus--Rocky passes--Dog's-river--Return to
Beyrout--Sickness--Departure for Alexandria--Roguery of the captain--
Disagreeables on board--Limasol--Alarm of pirates--Cowardice of the
crew--Arrival at Alexandria
CHAPTER XIV. Alexandria--Keeping quarantine--Want of arrangement
in the quarantine-house--Bad water--Fumigating of the rooms--
Release--Aspect of the city--Departure by boat for Atfe--Mehemet
Ali--Arrival at Atfe--Excellence of the Nile water--Good-nature of
the Arab women--The Delta of the Nile--The Libyan desert--The
pyramids--Arrival at Cairo
CHAPTER XV. Cairo--Quarrel with the captain--Rapacity of the
beggars--The custom-house--The consulate--Aspect of Cairo--Narrow
and crowded streets--Costumes--The mad-house--Disgusting exhibition--
Joseph's well--Palace of Mehemet Ali--Dates--Mosques at Cairo--
Excursion to the pyramids of Gizeh--Gizeh--Eggs hatched by
artificial heat--Ascent of the pyramids--The sphynx--Return to Cairo
CHAPTER XVI. Christian churches at Cairo--The Esbekie-square--
Theatre--Howling dervishes--Mashdalansher, the birthday of Mahomet--
Procession and religious ceremony--Shubra--Excursion through the
desert to Suez--Hardships of the journey--Scenes in the desert--The
camel--Caravans--Mirage--The Red Sea--Suez--Bedouin Camp--Quarrel
with the camel-driver--Departure for Alexandria
CHAPTER XVII. Return to Alexandria--Egyptian burials--Catacombs of
Alexandria--Viceroy's palace--Departure from Alexandria--The steamer
Eurotas--Candia--Syra--Paros and Antiparos--The Morea--Fire on
board--Malta--Quarantine--St. Augustine's church--Clergymen--
Beggars--Costumes--Soldiers--Civita Vecchia
CHAPTER XVIII. The steamer Hercules--Syracuse--Neapolis--Ruins--
Catanea--Convent of St. Nicholas--Messina--The Duke of Calabria--
Palermo--The royal palace--Church of St. Theresa--St. Ignazio--
Catacombs of the Augustine convent--Skeletons--Olivuzza--Royal villa
"Favorite"--St. Rosalia--Brutality of the Italian mob--Luxuriant
vegetation--Arrival at Naples
CHAPTER XIX. Sojourn at Naples--Sickness--Laziness of the people--
Royal palace--Rotunda--Strada Chiaga and Toledo--St. Carlo Theatre--
Largo del Castello--Medina Square--Marionettes--St. Jesu Nuovo--St.
Jesu Maggiore--St. Maria di Piedigrotta--Public gardens--Academy
"degli Studii"--Cathedral of St. Januarius--St. Jeronimi--St. Paula
Maggiore--St. Chiara--Baths of Nero--Solfatara--Grotto "del Cane"--
Resina--Ascent of Vesuvius--Caserta
CHAPTER XX. Caserta--Costume of the peasants--Rome--Piazza del
Popolo--Dogana--St. Peter's--Palaces--Borghese, Barberini, Colonna,
etc.--Churches--Ancient Rome--The Colliseum--Departure for Florence-
Bad weather--Picturesque scenery--Siena--Florence--Cathedral and
palaces--Departure from Florence--Bologna--Ferrara--Conclusion
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. JERUSALEM
2. NAZARETH
3. CHURCHYARD AT SCUTARI
4. THE DEAD SEA
5. MOUNT CARMEL
6. LEBANON
7. BALBECK
8. ISTHMUS OF SUEZ
CHAPTER I.
Departure from Vienna--Scene on board the steamer--Hainburg--
Presburg--The "Coronation-mount"--Pesth--Ofen--The steamer Galata--
Mohacs--The fortress Peterwardein--Discomfort and bad management on
board the steamer--Semlin--Belgrade--Pancsova--Austrian soldiers--
The rock Babakay--Drenkova--Falls of the Danube--Alt-Orsova--The
"Iron Gate"--Cattle-breeding--Callafat--Vexatious delay.
I had for years cherished the wish to undertake a journey to the
Holy Land; years are, indeed, required to familiarise one with the
idea of so hazardous an enterprise. When, therefore, my domestic
arrangements at length admitted of my absence for at least a year,
my chief employment was to prepare myself for this journey. I read
many works bearing on the subject, and was moreover fortunate enough
to make the acquaintance of a gentleman who had travelled in the
Holy Land some years before. I was thus enabled to gain much oral
information and advice respecting the means of prosecuting my
dangerous pilgrimage.
My friends and relations attempted in vain to turn me from my
purpose by painting, in the most glowing colours, all the dangers
and difficulties which await the traveller in those regions. "Men,"
they said, "were obliged gravely to consider if they had physical
strength to endure the fatigues of such a journey, and strength of
mind bravely to face the dangers of the plague, the climate, the
attacks of insects, bad diet, etc. And to think of a woman's
venturing alone, without protection of any kind, into the wide
world, across sea and mountain and plain,--it was quite
preposterous." This was the opinion of my friends.
I had nothing to advance in opposition to all this but my firm
unchanging determination. My trust in Providence gave me calmness
and strength to set my house in every respect in order. I made my
will, and arranged all my worldly affairs in such a manner that, in
the case of my death (an event which I considered more probable than
my safe return), my family should find every thing perfectly
arranged.
And thus, on the 22d of March 1842, I commenced my journey from
Vienna.
At one o'clock in the afternoon I drove to the Kaisermuhlen
(Emperor's Mills), from which place the steamboats start for Pesth.
I was joyfully surprised by the presence of several of my relations
and friends, who wished to say farewell once more. The parting was
certainly most bitter, for the thought involuntarily obtruded
itself, "Should we ever meet again in this world?"
Our mournful meditations were in some degree disturbed by a loud
dispute on board the vessel. At the request of a gentleman present,
one of the passengers was compelled, instead of flying, as he had
intended, with bag and baggage to Hungary, to return to Vienna in
company of the police. It appeared he owed the gentleman 1300
florins, and had wished to abscond, but was luckily overtaken before
the departure of the boat. This affair was hardly concluded when
the bell rang, the wheels began to revolve, and too soon, alas, my
dear ones were out of sight!
I had but few fellow-passengers. The weather was indeed fine and
mild; but the season was not far enough advanced to lure travellers
into the wide world, excepting men of business, and those who had
cosmopolitan ideas, like myself. Most of those on board were going
only to Presburg, or at farthest to Pesth. The captain having
mentioned that a woman was on board who intended travelling to
Constantinople, I was immediately surrounded by curious gazers. A
gentleman who was bound to the same port stepped forward, and
offered his services in case I should ever stand in need of them; he
afterwards frequently took me under his protection.
The fine mild weather changed to cold and wind as we got fairly out
into the great Danube. I wrapped myself in my cloak, and remained
on deck, in order to see the scenery between Vienna and Presburg,
which, no doubt, appears lovely enough when nature is clad in the
garment of spring; but now I only saw leafless trees and fallow
ground--a dreary picture of winter.
Hainburg with its old castle on a rock, Theben with its remarkable
fortress, and farther on the large free city of Presburg, have all a
striking appearance.
In three hours' time we reached Presburg, and landed in the
neighbourhood of the Coronation-hill, an artificial mound, on which
the king must stand in his royal robes, and brandish his sword
towards the four quarters of the heavens, as a token that he is
ready to defend his kingdom against all enemies, from whatever
direction they may approach. Not far from this hill is situate the
handsome inn called the "Two Green Trees," where the charges are as
high, if not higher, than in Vienna. Until we have passed Pesth,
passengers going down the river are not allowed to remain on board
through the night.
March 23d.
This morning we continued our journey at six o'clock. Immediately
below Presburg the Danube divides into two arms, forming the fertile
island of Schutt, which is about forty-six miles long and twenty-
eight in breadth. Till we reach Gran the scenery is monotonous
enough, but here it improves. Beautiful hills and several mountains
surround the place, imparting a charm of variety to the landscape.
In the evening, at about seven o'clock, we arrived at Pesth.
Unfortunately it was already quite dark. The magnificent houses, or
rather palaces, skirting the left bank of the Danube, and the
celebrated ancient fortress and town of Ofen on the right, form a
splendid spectacle, and invite the traveller to a longer sojourn.
As I had passed some days at Pesth several years before, I now only
stayed there for one night.
As the traveller must change steamers here, it behoves him to keep a
careful eye upon the luggage he has not delivered up at the office
in Vienna.
I put up at the "Hunting-horn," a fine hotel, but ridiculously
expensive. A little back room cost me 45 kreutzers (about one
shilling and eightpence) for one night.
The whole day I had felt exceedingly unwell. A violent headache,
accompanied by nausea and fever, made me fear the approach of a fit
of illness which would interrupt my journey. These symptoms were
probably a consequence of the painful excitement of parting with my
friends, added to the change of air. With some difficulty I gained
my modest chamber, and immediately went to bed. My good
constitution was luckily proof against the attacks of all enemies,
and waking the next morning, on
March 24th,
in tolerable health, I betook myself on board our new steamboat the
Galata, of sixty-horse power: this boat did not, however, appear to
me so tidy and neat as the Marianna, in which we had proceeded from
Vienna to Pesth. Our journey was a rapid one; at ten o'clock in the
morning we were already at Feldvar, a place which seems at a
distance to be of some magnitude, but which melts away like a soap-
bubble on a nearer approach. By two o'clock we had reached Paks;
here, as at all other places of note, we stopped for a quarter of an
hour. A boat rows off from the shore, bringing and fetching back
passengers with such marvellous speed, that you have scarcely
finished the sentence you are saying to your neighbour before he has
vanished. There is no time even to say farewell.
At about eight o'clock in the evening we reached the market-town of
Mohacs, celebrated as the scene of two battles. The fortress here
is used as a prison for criminals. We could distinguish nothing
either of the fortress or the town. It was already night when we
arrived, and at two o'clock in the morning of
March 25th
we weighed anchor. I was assured, however, that I had lost nothing
by this haste.
Some hours afterwards, our ship suddenly struck with so severe a
shock, that all hastened on deck to see what was the matter. Our
steersman, who had most probably been more asleep than awake, had
given the ship an unskilful turn, in consequence of which, one of
the paddles was entangled with some trunks of trees projecting above
the surface of the water. The sailors hurried into the boats, the
engine was backed, and after much difficulty we were once more
afloat.
Stopping for a few moments at Dalina and Berkara, we passed the
beautiful ruin of Count Palffy's castle at about two o'clock. The
castle of Illok, situate on a hill, and belonging to Prince
Odescalchi, presents a still more picturesque appearance.
At about four o'clock we landed near the little free town of
Neusatz, opposite the celebrated fortress of Peterwardein, the
outworks of which extend over a tongue of land stretching far out
into the Danube. Of the little free town of Neusatz we could not
see much, hidden as it is by hills which at this point confine the
bed of the river. The Danube is here crossed by a bridge of boats,
and this place also forms the military boundary of Austria. The
surrounding landscape appeared sufficiently picturesque; the little
town of Karlowitz, lying at a short distance from the shore, among
hills covered with vineyards, has a peculiarly good effect. Farther
on, however, as far as Semlin, the scenery is rather monotonous.
Here the Danube already spreads itself out to a vast breadth,
resembling rather a lake than a river.
At nine o'clock at night we reached the city of Semlin, in the
vicinity of which we halted. Semlin is a fortified place, situated
at the junction of the Save with the Danube; it contains 13,000
inhabitants, and is the last Austrian town on the right bank of the
Danube.
On approaching Semlin, a few small cannons were fired off on board
our boat. Unfortunately the steward did not receive notice of this
event early enough to allow of his opening the windows, consequently
one was shattered: this was a serious misfortune for us, as the
temperature had sunk to zero, and all the landscape around was
covered with snow. Before leaving Vienna, the cabin stove had been
banished from its place, as the sun had sent forth its mild beams
for a few days, and a continuance of the warm weather was rashly
relied on. On the whole, I would not advise any traveller to take a
second-class berth on board a steamer belonging to the Viennese
company. A greater want of order than we find in these vessels
could scarcely be met with. The traveller whose funds will not
permit of his paying first-class fare will do better to content
himself with a third-class, i.e. a deck-passage, particularly if he
purposes journeying no farther than Mohacs. If the weather is fine,
it is more agreeable to remain on deck, watching the panorama of the
Danube as it glides past. Should the day be unfavourable, the
traveller can go, without ceremony, into the second-class cabin, for
no one makes a distinction between the second and third-class
places. During the daytime, at any rate, it is quite as agreeable
to remain on deck as to venture below. Travelling down the river
from Pesth, the women are compelled to pass the night in the same
cabin with the men; an arrangement as uncomfortable as it is
indecorous. I afterwards had some experience of steamers belonging
to the Austrian Lloyds, on whose vessels I always found a proper
separation of the two sexes, and a due regard for the comfort of
second-class passengers.
The cold was so severe, that we would gladly have closed every
window, but for the close atmosphere engendered by the number of
poor people, mostly Jews, who form the larger portion of passengers
on board a Hungarian steamer. When the weather is unfavourable,
these men are accustomed to hasten from their third-class places to
those of the second class, where their presence renders it
immediately desirable to open every outlet for purposes of
ventilation. What the traveller has to endure on board these
vessels would scarcely be believed. Uncushioned benches serve for
seats by day and for beds by night. A separation of the two sexes
is nowhere attempted, not even on board the Ferdinand, in which you
enter the Black Sea, and are exposed to the merciless attacks of
sea-sickness.
Considering the high rate of passage-money demanded on this journey,
I really think the traveller might expect better accommodation. The
first-class to Constantinople costs 120 florins, {23} the second 85
florins, exclusive of provisions, and without reckoning the hotel
expenses at Presburg.
March 26th.
Last night was not a period of rest, but of noise for us travellers.
Not one of us could close his eyes.
Semlin is a place of considerable importance as a commercial town:
above 180 cwt. of goods were unloaded here from our vessel; and in
exchange we took on board coals, wood, and wares of various
descriptions. The damaged wheel, too, had to be repaired; and every
thing was done with so much crashing and noise, that we almost
imagined the whole steamer was coming to pieces. Added to this, the
cold wind drove in continually through the broken pane, and made the
place a real purgatory to us. At length, at six o'clock in the
morning, we got afloat once more. One advantage, however, resulted
from this fortuitous stoppage: we had a very good view of Belgrade,
a town of 20,000 inhabitants, situate opposite to Semlin. It is the
first Turkish fortified city in Servia.
The aspect of Belgrade is exceedingly beautiful. The fortifications
extend upwards on a rock from the Danube in the form of steps. The
city itself, with its graceful minarets, lies half a mile farther
inland. Here I saw the first mosques and minarets. The mosques, as
far as I could observe from the steamer, are built in a circular
form, not very high, and surmounted by a cupola flanked by one or
two minarets, a kind of high round pillar. The loftiest among these
buildings is the palace of Prince Milosch. From this point our
voyage becomes very interesting, presenting a rich and varied
succession of delightful landscape-views. The river is hemmed in on
either side by mountains, until it spreads itself forth free and
unrestrained, in the neighbourhood of Pancsova, to a breadth of 800
fathoms.
Pancsova, on the left bank of the Danube, in the territory of
Banata, is a military station.
As the stoppages are only for a few moments, little opportunity is
afforded of seeing the interior of the towns, or of visiting most of
the places at which we touch. At such times all is hurry and
confusion; suddenly the bell rings, the planks are withdrawn, and
the unlucky stranger who has loitered on board for a few moments is
obliged to proceed with us to the next station.
At Neusatz this happened to a servant, in consequence of his
carrying his master's luggage into the cabin instead of merely
throwing it down on the deck. The poor man was conveyed on to
Semlin, and had to travel on foot for a day and a half to regain his
home. A very pleasant journey of two hours from Pancsova brought us
to the Turkish fortress Semendria, the situation of which is truly
beautiful. The numerous angles of its walls and towers, built in
the Moorish style, impart to this place a peculiar charm. As a
rule, the Turkish fortresses are remarkable for picturesque effect.
But the villages, particularly those on the Servian shore, had the
same poverty-stricken look I had frequently noticed in Galicia.
Wretched clay huts, thatched with straw, lay scattered around; and
far and wide not a tree or a shrub appeared to rejoice the eye of
the traveller or of the sojourner in these parts, under the shade of
which the poor peasant might recruit his weary frame, while it would
conceal from the eye of the traveller, in some degree, the poverty
and nakedness of habitations on which no feeling mind can gaze
without emotions of pity.
The left bank of the river belongs to Hungary, and is called the
"Banat;" it presents an appearance somewhat less desolate. Much,
however, remains to be desired; and the poverty that reigns around
is here more to be wondered at, from the fact that this strip of
land is so rich in the productions of nature as to have obtained the
name of the "Garner of Hungary."
On the Austrian side of the Danube sentries are posted at every two
or three hundred paces--an arrangement which has been imitated by
the governments on the left bank, and is carried out to the point
where the river empties itself into the Black Sea.
It would, however, be erroneous to suppose that these soldiers mount
guard in their uniforms. They take up their positions, for a week
at a time, in their wretched tattered garments; frequently they are
barefoot, and their huts look like stables. I entered some of these
huts to view the internal arrangements. They could scarcely have
been more simple. In one corner I found a hearth; in another, an
apology for a stove, clumsily fashioned out of clay. An unsightly
hole in the wall, stopped with paper instead of glass, forms the
window; the furniture is comprised in a single wooden bench.
Whatever the inhabitant requires in the way of provisions he must
bring with him; for this he is allowed by the government to
cultivate the land.
Throughout the Russian territory the soldiers at least wear uniform.
Our journey becomes more and more charming. Frequently the mighty
river rushes foaming and roaring past the rocks, which seem scarcely
to allow it a passage; at other times it glides serenely onwards.
At every turn we behold new beauties, and scarcely know on which
side to turn our eager eyes. Meanwhile the ship sails swiftly on,
gliding majestically through wildly romantic scenery.
At one o'clock in the afternoon we reached Pasiest, where there is
nothing to be seen but a large store of coals for the steamers and a
few huts. Of the town itself nothing can be distinguished.
A couple of miles below Pasiest we enjoy an imposing spectacle. It
is the solitary rock Babakay, rising from the midst of the waters.
Together with the beautiful ruin Golumbacz, on the Servian shore, it
forms a magnificent view.
March 27th.
How unfortunate it is that all advantages are so seldom found
combined! We are now travelling amid glorious scenery, which we
hoped should recompense us for the manifold discomforts we have
hitherto endured; but the weather is unpropitious. The driving snow
sends us all into the cabin. The Danube is so fiercely agitated by
the stormy wind, that it rises into waves like a sea. We are
suffering lamentably from cold; unable to warm ourselves, we stand
gazing ruefully at the place where the stove stood--once upon a
time.
At four o'clock we reached Drenkova without accident, but completely
benumbed: we hurried into the inn built by the steamboat company,
where we found capital fare, a warm room, and tolerably comfortable
beds. This was the first place we had reached since leaving Pesth
at which we could thoroughly warm and refresh ourselves.
At Drenkova itself there is nothing to be seen but the inn just
mentioned and a barrack for soldiers. We were here shewn the vessel
which was wrecked, with passengers on board, in 1839, in a journey
up the Danube. Eight persons who happened to be in the cabin lost
their lives, and those only who were on deck were saved.
March 28th.
Early in the morning we embarked on board the Tunte, a vessel
furnished with a cabin. The bed of the Danube is here more and more
hemmed in by mountains and rocks, so that in some places it is not
above eighty fathoms broad, and glides with redoubled swiftness
towards its goal, the Pontus Euxinus or Black Sea.
On account of the falls which it is necessary to pass, between
Drenkova and Fetislav, the steamer must be changed for a small
sailing vessel. The voyage down the stream could indeed be
accomplished without danger, but the return would be attended with
many difficulties. The steamers, therefore, remain behind at
Drenkova, and passengers are conveyed down the river in barks, and
_upwards_ (since the accident of 1839) in good commodious carriages.
To-day the cold was quite as severe as it had been yesterday so that
but for the politeness of a fellow-passenger, who lent me his bunda
(great Hungarian fur), I should have been compelled to remain in the
little cabin, and should thus have missed the most interesting
points of the Danube. As it was, however, I wrapped myself from
head to foot in the fur cloak, took my seat on a bench outside the
cabin, and had full leisure to store my memory with a succession of
lovely scenery, presenting almost the appearance of a series of lake
views, which continued equally picturesque until we had almost
reached Alt-Orsova.
A couple of miles below Drenkova, near Islas, the sailors suddenly
cried, "The first fall!" I looked up in a fever of expectation.
The water was rising in small waves, the stream ran somewhat faster,
and a slight rushing sound was to be heard. If I had not been told
that the Danube forms a waterfall here, I should certainly never
have suspected it to be the case. Between Lenz and Krems I did not
find either the rocks or the power of the stream much more
formidable. We had, however, a high tide, a circumstance which
diminishes both the danger of the journey and the sublimity of the
view. The numerous rocky points, peering threateningly forth at low
tide, among which the steersman must pick his way with great care,
were all hidden from our sight. We glided safely over them, and in
about twenty minutes had left the first fall behind us. The two
succeeding falls are less considerable.
On the Austro-Wallachian side a road extends over a distance of
fourteen to sixteen miles, frequently strengthened with masonry, and
at some points hewn out of the solid rock. In the midst of this
road, on a high wall of rock, we see the celebrated "Veteran Cave,"
one of the most impregnable points on the banks of the Danube. It
is surrounded by redoubts, and is admirably calculated to command
the passage of the river. This cave is said to be sufficiently
spacious to contain 500 men. So far back as the time of the Romans
it was already used as a point of defence for the Danube. Some five
miles below it we notice the "Trajan's Tablet," hewn out of a
protruding rock.
On the Turco-Servian side the masses of rock jut out so far into the
stream, that no room is left for a footway. Here the famous
Trajan's Road once existed. No traces of this work remain, save
that the traveller notices, for fifteen or twenty miles, holes cut
here and there in the rock. In these holes strong trunks of trees
were fastened; these supported the planks of which the road is said
to have been formed.
At eleven in the forenoon we reached Alt-Orsova, the last Austrian
town on the military frontier of Banata or Wallachia. We were
obliged to remain here for half a day.
The town has rather a pretty effect, being composed mostly of new
houses. The house belonging to the steamboat company is
particularly remarkable. It is not, however, devoted to the
accommodation of travellers, as at Drenkova. Here, as at Presburg
and Pesth, each passenger is required to pay for his night's
expenses,--an arrangement which I could not help finding somewhat
strange, inasmuch as every passenger is made to pay twice; namely,
for his place on the steamer and for his room in the inn.
It was Sunday when we arrived, and I saw many people proceeding to
church. The peasants are dressed tolerably neatly and well. Both
men and women wear long garments of blue cloth. The women have on
their heads large handkerchiefs of white linen, which hang down
their backs, and on their feet stout boots; the men wear round felt
hats, and sandals made of the bark of trees.
March 29th.
After having completely refreshed ourselves at the good inn called
the "Golden Stag," we this morning embarked on a new craft, the
Saturnus, which is only covered in overhead, and is open on all
sides.
So soon as a traveller has stepped upon this vessel he is looked
upon as unclean, and may not go on shore without keeping quarantine:
an officer accompanied us as far as Galatz.
Immediately below Alt-Orsova we entirely quit the Austrian
territory.
We are now brought nearer every moment to the most dangerous part of
the river, the "Iron Gate," called by the Turks Demir kaju. Half an
hour before we reached the spot, the rushing sound of the water
announced the perilous proximity. Numerous reefs of rocks here
traverse the stream, and the current runs eddying among them.
We passed this dangerous place in about fifteen minutes. Here, at
the Iron Gate, the high tide befriended us, as it did at the former
falls.
I found these falls, and indeed almost every thing we passed, far
below the anticipations I had formed from reading descriptions,
frequently of great poetic beauty. I wish to represent every thing
as I found it, as it appeared before my eyes; without adornment
indeed, but truly.
After passing the Iron Gate we come to a village, in the
neighbourhood of which some fragments of the Trajan's Bridge can be
discerned at low water.
The country now becomes flatter, particularly on the left bank,
where extend the immense plains of Wallachia, and the eye finds no
object on which it can rest. On the right hand rise terrace-like
rows of hills and mountains, and the background is bounded by the
sharply-defined lines of the Balkan range, rendered celebrated by
the passage of the Russians in 1829. The villages, scattered thinly
along the banks, become more and more miserable; they rather
resemble stables for cattle than human dwellings. The beasts remain
in the open fields, though the climate does not appear to be much
milder than with us in Austria; for to-day, nearly at the beginning
of April, the thermometer stood one degree below zero, and yesterday
we had only five degrees of warmth (reckoning by Reaumur). {30}
The expeditious and easy manner in which cattle are here declared to
be free from the plague also struck me as remarkable. When the
creatures are brought from an infected place to one pronounced
healthy, the ship is brought to some forty or fifty paces from the
shore, and each animal is thrown into the water and driven towards
the bank, where people are waiting to receive it. After this simple
operation the beasts are considered free from infectious matter.
Cattle-rearing seems to be here carried on to a considerable extent.
Everywhere I noticed large herds of horned beasts and many
buffaloes. Numerous flocks of goats and sheep also appear.
On the Saturnus we travelled at the most for two hours, after which
we embarked, opposite the fortress of Fetislav, on board the steamer
Zriny.
At five o'clock in the evening we passed the fortress of Widdin,
opposite which we stopped, in the neighbourhood of the town of
Callafat. It was intended merely to land goods here, and then to
proceed immediately on our voyage; but the agent was nowhere to be
found, and so we poor travellers were made the victims of this
carelessness, and compelled to remain here at anchor all night.
March 30th.
As the agent had not yet made his appearance, the captain had no
choice but to leave the steward behind to watch over the goods. At
half-past six in the morning the engines were at length set in
motion, and after a very agreeable passage of six hours we reached
Nicopolis.
All the Turkish fortresses on the Danube are situated on the right
bank, mostly amid beautiful scenery. The larger towns and villages
are surrounded by gardens and trees, which give them a very pleasant
appearance. The interior of these towns, however, is said not to be
quite so inviting as one would suppose from a distant view, for it
is asserted that dirty narrow streets, dilapidated houses, etc.,
offend the stranger's sight at every step. We did not land at any
of these fortresses or towns; for us the right bank of the river was
a forbidden paradise; so we only saw what was beautiful, and escaped
being disenchanted.
Rather late in the evening we cast anchor opposite a village of no
note.
CHAPTER II.
Giurgewo--Interior of the town--Braila--Sanitary precautions--
Galatz--Scarcity of good water--Ridiculous fear of the plague--The
steamer Ferdinand--Entrance into the Black Sea--Stormy weather and
sea-sickness--Arrival at Constantinople--Picturesque appearance of
the city--Mosques--The dancing Dervishes--The Sultan and his barge--
Pera--The great and little Campo--Wild dogs--Dirty state of the
streets--Preparations in case of fire.
March 31st.
We started early this morning, and at eight o'clock had already
reached Giurgewo. This town is situate on the left bank of the
Danube, opposite the fortress of Rustschuk. It contains 16,000
inhabitants, and is one of the chief trading towns of Wallachia. We
were detained here until four o'clock in the afternoon; for we had
to unload above 600 cwt. of goods and eight carriages, and to take
coals on board in exchange. Thus we had time to view the interior
of this Wallachian city.
With what disappointed surprise did my fellow-passengers view the
ugliness of this town, which from a distance promises so much! On
me it made but little impression, for I had seen towns precisely
similar in Galicia. The streets and squares are full of pits and
holes; the houses are built without the slightest regard to taste or
symmetry, one perhaps projecting halfway across the street, while
its neighbour falls quite into the background. In some places
wooden booths were erected along each side of the street for the
sale of the commonest necessaries of life and articles of food, and
these places were dignified by the name of "bazaars." Curiosity led
us into a wine-shop and into a coffee-house. In both of these we
found only wooden tables and benches; there were hardly any guests;
and the few persons present belonged to the humblest classes.
Glasses and cups are handed to the company without undergoing the
ceremony of rinsing.
We purchased some eggs and butter, and went into the house of one of
the townspeople to prepare ourselves a dish after the German
fashion. I had thus an opportunity of noticing the internal
arrangements of a house of this description. The floor of the room
was not boarded, and the window was only half glazed, the remaining
portion being filled up with paper or thin bladder. For the rest,
every thing was neat and simple enough. Even a good comfortable
divan was not wanting. At four o'clock we quitted the town.
The Danube is now only broad for short distances at a time. It is,
as it were, sown with islands, and its waters are therefore more
frequently parted into several streams than united into one.
In the villages we already notice Greek and Turkish costumes, but
the women and girls do not yet wear veils.
Unfortunately it was so late when we reached the fortress of
Silistria that I could see nothing of it. A little lower down we
cast anchor for the night. At an early hour on
April 1st
we sailed past Hirsova, and at two o'clock stopped at Braila, a
fortress occupied by the Russians since the year 1828. Here
passengers were not allowed to land, as they were considered
infected with the plague; but our officer stepped forward, and
vouched for the fact that we had neither landed nor taken up any one
on the right bank of the river; thereupon the strangers were allowed
to set foot on terra firma.
By four o'clock we were opposite Galatz, one of the most
considerable commercial towns, with 8000 inhabitants,--the only
harbour the Russians possess on the Danube. Here we saw the first
merchant-ships and barques of all kinds coming from the Black Sea.
Some sea-gulls also, heralds of the neighbouring ocean, soared above
our heads.
The scene here is one of traffic and bustle; Galatz being the place
of rendezvous for merchants and travellers from two quarters of the
globe, Europe and Asia. It is the point of junction of three great
empires--Austria, Russia, and Turkey.
After the officer had repeated his assurances as at Braila, we were
permitted to leave the ship. I had a letter of recommendation to
the Austrian consul, who accidentally came on board; after reading
my letter he received me very kindly, and most obligingly procured
quarters for me.
The town promises much, but proves to be just such a miserable dirty
place as Giurgewo. The houses are generally built of wood or clay,
thatched with straw; those alone belonging to the consul and the
rich merchants are of stone. The finest buildings are the Christian
church and the Moldavian hotel.
Though Galatz lies on the Danube, water for drinking is a dear
article among the inhabitants. Wells are to be found neither in the
houses nor in the squares. The townspeople are compelled to bring
all the water they require from the Danube, which is a great
hardship for the poor people, and a considerable expense for the
rich; in winter a small tub of water costs from 10 to 12 kreutzers
(about 4d. or 5d.) in the more distant quarters of the town. At
every corner you meet water-carriers, and little wagons loaded with
tubs of water. Attempts have frequently been made to procure this
indispensable element by digging; water has, indeed, in some
instances gushed forth, but it always had a brackish taste.
In Galatz we made a halt of twenty-four hours: the delay was not of
the most agreeable kind, as neither the town itself nor its environs
offer any thing worthy of remark. Still I always think of these
days with pleasure. Herr Consul Huber is a polite and obliging man;
himself a traveller, he gave me many a hint and many a piece of
advice for my journey. The air of quiet comfort which reigned
throughout his house was also not to be despised by one who had just
endured many days of privation; at Herr Huber's I found relief both
for body and mind.
April 2d.
The scenery round the town is so far from being inviting, that I did
not feel the least inclination to explore it. I therefore remained
in the town, and went up hill and down dale through the ill-paved
streets. Coffee-houses appear in great abundance; but if it were
not for the people sitting in front of them drinking coffee and
smoking tobacco, no one would do these dirty rooms the honour of
taking them for places of entertainment.
In the market and the squares we notice a great preponderance of the
male sex over the female. The former are seen bustling about every
where, and, like the Italians, perform some duties which usually
fall to the lot of the softer sex. We notice a mixture of the most
different nations, and among them a particularly large number of
Jews.
The bazaar is overloaded with southern fruits of all kinds. Oranges
and lemons are seen here in great numbers, like the commonest of our
fruits. The prices are of course very trifling. The cauliflowers
brought from Asia Minor are particularly fine. I noticed many as
large as a man's head.
In the evening I was required to repair to the harbour and re-
embark.
It is almost impossible to form an idea of the confusion which
reigns here. A wooden railing forms the barrier between the healthy
people and those who come from or intend travelling to a country
infected with the plague. Whoever passes this line of demarcation
is not allowed to return. Soldiers, officers, government officials,
and superintendents, the latter of whom are armed with sticks and
pairs of tongs, stand at the entrance to drive those forcibly back
who will not be content with fair words. Provisions and other
articles are either thrown over the barrier or left in front of it.
In the latter case, however, they may not be touched until the
bearers have departed. A gentleman on the "plague" side wished to
give a letter to one on the other; it was immediately snatched from
his hand and handed across by means of a pair of tongs. And all
this time such a noise and hubbub is going on, that you can scarcely
hear the sound of your own voice.
"Pray hand me over my luggage!" cries one. "Keep farther away!
don't come near me, and mind you don't touch me!" anxiously exclaims
another. And then the superintendents keep shouting--"Stand back,
stand back!" etc.
I was highly entertained by this spectacle; the scene was entirely
new to me. But on my return, when I shall be one of the prisoners,
I fear I may find it rather tedious. For this time I was not at all
hindered in the prosecution of my journey.
On the whole, these timid precautions seemed to me exceedingly
uncalled for, particularly at a time when neither the plague nor any
kind of contagious disease prevailed in Turkey. One of my fellow-
passengers had been banished to our ship on the previous day because
he had had the misfortune to brush against an official on going to
see after his luggage.
At seven o'clock the tattoo is beaten, the grating is shut, and the
farce ends. We now repaired to the fourth and last steamer, the
Ferdinand. From first to last we changed vessels six times during a
journey from Vienna to Constantinople; we travelled by four steamers
and twice in boats; a circumstance which cannot be reckoned among
the pleasures of a trip down the Danube.
Though not a large boat, the Ferdinand is comfortable and well
built. Even the second-class cabin is neatly arranged, and a pretty
stove diffused a warmth which was peculiarly grateful to us all, as
the thermometer showed only six to eight degrees above zero.
Unfortunately even here the men and women are not separated in the
second-class cabin; but care is at least taken that third-class
passengers do not intrude. Twelve berths are arranged round the
walls, and in front of these are placed broad benches well
cushioned.
April 3d.
At five o'clock in the morning we steamed out of the harbour of
Galatz. Shortly afterwards basins and towels were handed to us; a
custom totally unknown upon former vessels. For provisions, which
are tolerably good, we are charged 1 fl. 40 kr. per diem.
Towards ten o'clock we reached Tehussa, a Bessarabian village of
most miserable appearance, where we stopped for a quarter of an
hour; after which we proceeded without further delay towards the
Black Sea.
I had long rejoiced in the expectation of reaching the Black Sea,
and imagined that near its mouth the Danube itself would appear like
a sea. But as it generally happens in life, "great expectations,
small realisations," so it was the case here also. At Galatz the
Danube is very broad; but some distance from its mouth it divides
itself into so many branches that not one of them can be termed
majestic.
Towards three o'clock in the afternoon we at length entered the
Black Sea.
Here the arms of the Danube rush forward from every quarter, driving
the sea tumultuously back, so that we can only distinguish in the
far distance a stripe of green. For above an hour we glide on over
the yellow, clayey, strongly agitated fresh water, until at length
the boundary is passed, and we are careering over the salt waves of
the sea. Unfortunately for us, equinoctial gales and heavy weather
still so powerfully maintained their sway, that the deck was
completely flooded with the salt brine. We could hardly stand upon
our feet, and could not manage to reach the cabin-door, where the
bell was ringing for dinner, without the assistance of some sailors.
Several of the passengers, myself among the number, did little
honour to the cook's skill. We had scarcely begun to eat our soup,
before we were so powerfully attacked by sea-sickness, that we were
obliged to quit the table precipitately. I laid myself down at
once, feeling unable to move about, or even to drag myself on deck
to admire the magnificent spectacle of nature. The waves frequently
ran so high as to overtop the flue of our stove, and from time to
time whole streams of water poured into the cabin.
April 4th.
Since yesterday the storm has increased considerably, so that we are
obliged to hold fast by our cribs to avoid being thrown out. This
misfortune really happened to one of the passengers, who was too ill
to hold sufficiently tight.
As I already felt somewhat better, I attempted to rise, but was
thrown in the same instant with such force against a table which
stood opposite, that for a long time I felt no inclination to try
again. There was not the slightest chance of obtaining any sleep
all night. The dreadful howling of the wind among the masts and
cordage, the fearful straining of the ship, which seemed as though
its timbers were starting, the continual pitching and rolling, the
rattling of the heavy cables above us, the cries, orders, and
shouting of the captain and his sailors, all combined to form a din
which did not allow us to enjoy a moment's rest. In the morning,
ill as I felt myself, I managed to gain the deck with the help of
the steward, and sat down near the steersman to enjoy the aspect of
that grandest of nature's phenomena--a storm at sea.
Holding tightly on, I bade defiance to the waves, which broke over
the ship and wetted me all over, as though to cool my feverish heat.
I could now form a clear and vivid conception of a storm at sea. I
saw the waves rush foaming on, and the ship now diving into an
abyss, and anon rising with the speed of lightning to the peak of
the highest wave. It was a thrilling, fearful sight;--absorbed in
its contemplation, I soon ceased to think of my sickness.
Late at night the violence of the storm abated in some degree; we
could now run in and cast anchor in the harbour of Varna, which
under ordinary circumstances we should have reached twelve hours
sooner.
April 5th.
This morning I had leisure to admire this fine fortress-town, which
was besieged and taken by the Russians in 1828. We remained here
several hours. The upper portion of the ship was here loaded with
fowl of all descriptions, to such a degree that the space left for
us travellers was exceedingly circumscribed. This article of
consumption seems to be in great demand in Constantinople both among
Turks and Franks; for our captain assured me that his vessel was
laden with this kind of ware every time he quitted Varna, and that
he carried it to Stamboul.
April 6th.
The shades of night prevented my seeing one of the finest sights in
the world, in anticipation of which I had rejoiced ever since my
departure from Vienna--the passage through the Bosphorus. A few
days afterwards, however, I made the excursion in a kaik (a very
small and light boat), and enjoyed to my heart's content views and
scenes which it is totally beyond my descriptive power to portray.
At three o'clock in the morning, when we entered the harbour of
Constantinople, every one, with the exception of the sailors, lay
wrapped in sleep. I stood watching on deck, and saw the sun rise in
its full glory over the imperial city, so justly and universally
admired.
We had cast anchor in the neighbourhood of Topona; the city of
cities lay spread out before my eyes, built on several hills, each
bearing a separate town, and all blending into a grand and
harmonious whole.
The town of Constantinople, properly speaking, is separated from
Galata and Pera by the so-called "Golden Horn;" the means of
communication is by a long and broad wooden bridge. Scutari and
Bulgurlu rise in the form of terraces on the Asiatic shore. Scutari
is surrounded, within and without, by a splendid wood of magnificent
cypresses. In the foreground, on the top of the mountain, lie the
spacious and handsome barracks, which can contain 10,000 men.
The beautiful mosques, with their graceful minarets--the palaces and
harems, kiosks and great barracks--the gardens, shrubberies, and
cypress-woods--the gaily painted houses, among which single
cypresses often rear their slender heads,--these, together with the
immense forest of masts, combine to form an indescribably striking
spectacle.
When the bustle of life began, on the shore and on the sea, my eyes
scarcely sufficed to take in all I saw. The "Golden Horn" became
gradually covered as far as the eye could reach with a countless
multitude of kaiks. The restless turmoil of life on shore, the
passing to and fro of men of all nations and colours, from the pale
inhabitant of Europe to the blackest Ethiopian, the combination of
varied and characteristic costumes, this, and much more which I
cannot describe, held me spell-bound to the deck. The hours flew
past like minutes, and even the time of debarcation came much too
early for me, though I had stood on deck and gazed from three
o'clock until eight.
I found myself richly repaid for all the toils of my journey, and
rejoiced in the sight of these wonderful Eastern pictures; I could
only wish I were a poet, that I might fitly portray the magnificent
gorgeousness of the sight.
To land at Topona, and to be immediately surrounded by hired
servants and hamaks (porters), is the fate of every traveller. The
stranger is no longer master either of his will or his luggage. One
man praises this inn, the other that. {40} The porters hustle and
beat each other for your effects, so that the custom-house officers
frequently come forward with their sticks to restore order. The
boxes are then searched,--a ceremony which can, however, be
considerably accelerated by a fee of from ten to twenty kreutzers.
It is very advisable to fix on an hotel before leaving the boat.
There are always passengers on board who are resident at
Constantinople, or at least know the town well, and who are polite
enough to give advice on the subject to strangers. By this means
you rid yourself at once of the greedy servants, and need only tell
a porter the name of your inn.
The inns for the Franks (a term used in the East to designate all
Europeans) are in Pera. I stayed at the hotel of Madame Balbiani, a
widow lady, in whose house the guests are made comfortable in every
respect. Clean rooms, with a beautiful view towards the sea,
healthy, well-selected, and palatable fare, and good prompt
attendance, are advantages which every one values; and all these are
found at Madame Balbiani's, besides constant readiness to oblige on
the part of the hostess and her family. The good lady took quite a
warm interest in me; and I can say, without hesitation, that had not
my good fortune led me under her roof, I should have been badly off.
I had several letters of introduction; but not being fortunate
enough to travel in great pomp or with a great name, my countrymen
did not consider it worth while to trouble themselves about me.
I am ashamed, for their sakes, to be obliged to make this
confession; but as I have resolved to narrate circumstantially not
only all I saw, but all that happened to me on this journey, I must
note down this circumstance with the rest. I felt the more deeply
the kindness of these strangers, who, without recommendation or the
tie of country, took so hearty an interest in the well-being of a
lonely woman. I am truly rejoiced when an opportunity occurs of
expressing my sincere gratitude for the agreeable hours I spent
among them.
The distance from Vienna to Constantinople is about 1000 sea miles.
RESIDENCE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.--THE DANCING DERVISHES.
I arrived at Constantinople on a Tuesday, and immediately inquired
what was worth seeing. I was advised to go and see the dancing
dervishes, as this was the day on which they held their religious
exercises in Pera.
As I reached the mosque an hour too soon, I betook myself in the
meantime to the adjoining garden, which is set apart as the place of
meeting of the Turkish women. Here several hundred ladies reclined
on the grass in varied groups, surrounded by their children and
their nurses, the latter of whom are all negresses. Many of these
Turkish women were smoking pipes of tobacco with an appearance of
extreme enjoyment, and drinking small cups of coffee without milk.
Two or three friends often made use of the same pipe, which was
passed round from mouth to mouth. These ladies seemed also to be
partial to dainties: most of them were well provided with raisins,
figs, sugared nuts, cakes, etc., and ate as much as the little ones.
They seemed to treat their slaves very kindly; the black servants
sat among their mistresses, and munched away bravely: the slaves
are well dressed, and could scarcely be distinguished from their
owners, were it not for their sable hue.
During my whole journey I remarked with pleasure that the lot of a
slave in the house of a Mussulman is not nearly so hard as we
believe. The Turkish women are no great admirers of animated
conversations; still there was more talking in their societies than
in the assemblies of the men, who sit silent and half asleep in the
coffee-houses, languidly listening to the narrations of a story-
teller.
The ladies' garden resembles a churchyard. Funeral monuments peer
forth at intervals between the cypresses, beneath which the visitors
sit talking and joking cheerfully. Every now and then one would
suddenly start up, spread a carpet beside her companions, and kneel
down to perform her devotions.
As no one of the male sex was allowed to be present, all were
unveiled. I noticed many pretty faces among them, but not a single
instance of rare or striking beauty. Fancy large brilliant eyes,
pale cheeks, broad faces, and an occasional tendency to corpulence,
and you have the ladies' portrait. Small-pox must still be rather
prevalent in these parts, for I saw marks of it on many faces.
The Turkish ladies' costume is not very tasteful. When they go
abroad, they are completely swathed in an upper garment, generally
made of dark merino. In the harem, or in any place where men are
not admitted, they doff this garment, and also the white cloth in
which they wrap their heads and faces. Their costume consists,
properly speaking, of very wide trousers drawn together below the
ancle, a petticoat with large wide sleeves, and a broad sash round
the waist. Over this sash some wear a caftan, others only a
spencer, generally of silk. On their feet they wear delicate boots,
and over these slippers of yellow morocco; on their heads a small
fez-cap, from beneath which their hair falls on their shoulders in a
number of thin plaits. Those Turks, male and female, who are
descended from Mahomet, have either a green caftan or a green
turban. This colour is here held so sacred, that scarcely any one
may wear it. I would even advise the Franks to avoid green in their
dresses, as they may expose themselves to annoyance by using it.
After I had had more than an hour's leisure to notice all these
circumstances, a noise suddenly arose in the courtyard, which
produced a stir among the women. I considered from these
appearances that it was time to go to the temple, and hastened to
join my party. A great crowd was waiting in the courtyard, for the
Sultan was expected. I was glad to have the good fortune to behold
him on the very day of my arrival. As a stranger, I was allowed,
without opposition, a place in the front ranks,--a trait of good
breeding on the part of the Turks which many a Frank would do well
to imitate. In a Turk, moreover, this politeness is doubly
praiseworthy, from the fact that he looks upon my poor sex with
great disrespect; indeed, according to his creed, we have not even a
soul.
I had only stood a few moments, when the Sultan appeared on
horseback, surrounded by his train. He alone rode into the
courtyard; the others all dismounted at the gate, and entered on
foot. The horse on which the Sultan rode was of rare beauty, and,
as they told me, of the true Arabian breed; the saddle-cloth was
richly embroidered with gold, and the stirrups, of the same precious
metal, were in the form of shoes, covered with the finest chased
work.
The Sultan is a slender slim-looking youth of nineteen years of age,
and looks pale, languid, and blase. His features are agreeable, and
his eyes fine. If he had not abandoned himself at so early an age
to all the pleasures of the senses, he would, no doubt, have grown
up a stalwart man. He wore a long cape of dark-blue cloth; and a
high fez-cap, with a heron's plume and a diamond clasp, decked his
head. The greeting of the people, and the Sultan's mode of
acknowledging it, is exactly as at Vienna, except that here the
people at intervals raise a low cry of welcome.
As soon as the Sultan had entered the temple, all flocked in. The
men and the Franks (the latter without distinction of sex) sit or
stand in the body of the temple. The Turkish women sit in
galleries, behind such close wire gratings that they are completely
hidden. The temple, or more properly the hall, is of inconsiderable
size, and the spectators are only separated from the priests by a
low railing.
At two o'clock the dervishes appeared, clad in long petticoats with
innumerable folds, which reached to their heels. Their heads were
covered with high pointed hats of white felt. They spread out
carpets and skins of beasts, and began their ceremonies with a great
bowing and kissing of the ground. At length the music struck up;
but I do not remember ever to have heard a performance so utterly
horrible. The instruments were a child's drum, a shepherd's pipe,
and a miserable fiddle. Several voices set up a squeaking and
whining accompaniment, with an utter disregard of time and tune.
Twelve dervishes now began their dance,--if indeed a turning round
in a circle, while their full dresses spread round them like a large
wheel, can be called by such a name. They display much address in
avoiding each other, and never come in contact, though their stage
is very small. I did not notice any "convulsions," of which I had
read in many descriptions.
The ceremony ended at three o'clock. The Sultan once more mounted
his horse, and departed with his train and the eunuchs. In the
course of the day I saw him again, as he was returning from visiting
the medical faculty. It is not difficult to get a sight of the
Sultan; he generally appears in public on Tuesdays, and always on
Fridays, the holiday of the Turks.
The train of the young autocrat presents a more imposing appearance
when he goes by water to visit a mosque, which he generally does on
every Friday. Only two hours before he starts it is announced in
which mosque he intends to appear. At twelve, at noon, the
procession moves forward. For this purpose two beautiful barges are
in readiness, painted white, and covered with gilded carvings. Each
barge is surmounted by a splendid canopy of dark-red velvet, richly
bordered with gold fringe and tassels. The floor is spread with
beautiful carpets. The rowers are strong handsome youths, clad in
short trousers and jacket of white silk, with fez-caps on their
heads. On each side of the ship there are fourteen of these rowers,
under whose vigorous exertions the barge flies forward over wave and
billow like a dolphin. The beautifully regular movements of the
sailors have a fine effect. The oars all dip into the water with
one stroke, the rowers rise as one man, and fall back into their
places in the same perfect time.
A number of elegant barges and kaiks follow the procession. The
flags of the Turkish fleet and merchant-ships are hoisted, and
twenty-one cannons thunder forth a salutation to the Sultan. He
does not stay long in the mosque, and usually proceeds to visit a
barrack or some other public building. When the monarch goes by
water to the mosque, he generally returns also in his barge; if he
goes by land, he returns in the same manner.
The most popular walks in Pera are "the great and little Campo,"
which may be termed "burying-places in cypress-groves." It is a
peculiar custom of the Turks, which we hardly find among any other
nation, that all their feasts, walks, business-transactions, and
even their dwellings, are in the midst of graves. Every where, in
Constantinople, Pera, Galata, etc., one can scarcely walk a few
paces without passing several graves surrounded by cypresses. We
wander continually between the living and the dead; but within four
and twenty hours I was quite reconciled to the circumstance. During
the night-time I could pass the graves with as little dread as if I
were walking among the houses of the living. Seen from a distance,
these numerous cypress-woods give to the town a peculiar fairy-like
appearance; I can think of nothing with which I could compare it.
Every where the tall trees appear, but the tombs are mostly hidden
from view.
It took a longer time before I could accustom myself to the
multitude of ownerless dogs, which the stranger encounters at all
corners, in every square and every street. They are of a peculiarly
hideous breed, closely resembling the jackal. During the daytime
they are not obnoxious, being generally contented enough if they are
allowed to sleep undisturbed in the sun, and to devour their prey in
peace. But at night they are not so quiet. They bark and howl
incessantly at each other, as well as at the passers-by, but do not
venture an attack, particularly if you are accompanied by a servant
carrying a lantern and a stick. Among themselves they frequently
have quarrels and fights, in which they sometimes lose their lives.
They are extremely jealous if a strange dog approaches their
territory, namely the street or square of which they have
possession. On such an intruder they all fall tooth and nail, and
worry him until he either seeks safety in flight or remains dead on
the spot. It is therefore a rare circumstance for any person to
have a house-dog with him in the streets. It would be necessary to
carry the creature continually, and even then a number of these
unbidden guests would follow, barking and howling incessantly.
Neither distemper nor madness is to be feared from these dogs,
though no one cares for their wants. They live on carrion and
offal, which is to be found in abundance in every street, as every
description of filth is thrown out of the houses into the road. A
few years ago it was considered expedient to banish these dogs from
Constantinople. They were transported to two uninhabited islands in
the Sea of Marmora, the males to one and the females to another.
But dirt and filth increased in the city to such a degree, that
people were glad to have them back again.
The town is not lighted. Every person who goes abroad at night must
take a lantern with him. If he is caught wandering without a
lantern by the guard, he is taken off without mercy to the nearest
watch-house, where he must pass the night. The gates of the city
are shut after sunset.
In proportion as I was charmed with the beautiful situation of
Constantinople, so I was disgusted with the dirt and the offensive
atmosphere which prevail every where; the ugly narrow streets, the
continual necessity to climb up and down steep places in the badly-
paved roads, soon render the stranger weary of a residence in this
city.
Worse than all is the continual dread of conflagration in which we
live. Large chests and baskets are kept in readiness in every
house; if a fire breaks out in the neighbourhood, all valuable
articles are rapidly thrown into these and conveyed away. It is
customary to make a kind of contract with two or three Turks, who
are pledged, in consideration of a trifling monthly stipend, to
appear in the hour of danger, for the purpose of carrying the boxes
and lending a helping hand wherever they can. It is safer by far to
reckon on the honesty of the Turks than on that of the Christians
and Greeks. Instances in which a Turk has appropriated any portion
of the goods entrusted to his care are said to be of very rare
occurrence. During the first nights of my stay I was alarmed at
every noise, particularly when the watchman, who paraded the
streets, happened to strike with his stick upon the stones. In the
event of a conflagration, he must knock at every house-door and cry,
"Fire, fire!" Heaven be praised, my fears were never realised.
CHAPTER III.
Scutari--Kaiks--The howling Dervishes--The Achmaidon, or place of
arrows--The tower in Galata--The Bazaar at Constantinople--Mosques--
Slave-market--The old Serail--The Hippodrome--Coffee-houses--Story-
tellers--Excursion to Ejub--Houses, theatres, and carriages.
I chose a Friday for an excursion to Scutari, the celebrated
burying-place of the Turks, in order that I might have an
opportunity of seeing the "howling dervishes."
In company with a French physician, I traversed the Bosphorus in a
kaik. {48} We passed by the "Leander's Tower," which stands in the
sea, a few hundred paces from the Asiatic coast, and has been so
frequently celebrated in song by the poets. We soon arrived at our
destination.
It was with a peculiar feeling of emotion that for the first time in
my life I set foot on a new quarter of the globe. Now, and not till
now, I seemed separated by an immeasurable distance from my home.
Afterwards, when I landed on the coast of Africa, the circumstance
did not produce the same impression on my mind.
Now at length I was standing in the quarter of the earth which had
been the cradle of the human race; where man had risen high, and had
again sunk so low that the Almighty had almost annihilated him in
his righteous anger. And here in Asia it was that the Son of God
came on earth to bring the boon of redemption to fallen man. My
long and warmly-cherished wish to tread this most wonderful of the
four quarters of the earth was at length fulfilled, and with God's
help I might confidently hope to reach the sacred region whence the
true light of the world had shone forth.
[Illustration 3. Burial Place at Scutari. ill3.jpg]
Scutari is the place towards which the Mussulman looks with the hope
of one day reposing beneath its shade. No disciple of any other
creed is allowed to be buried here; and here, therefore, the
Mahometan feels himself at home, and worthy of his Prophet. The
cemetery is the grandest in the world. One may wander for hours
through this grove of cypresses, without reaching the end. On the
gravestones of the men turbans are sculptured; on those of the women
fruits and flowers: the execution is in most cases very
indifferent.
Though neither the chief nor the tributary streets in Scutari are
even, they are neither so badly paved nor quite so narrow as those
at Pera. The great barracks, on a height in the foreground, present
a splendid appearance, and also afford a delicious view towards the
Sea of Marmora and the inimitably beautiful Bosphorus. The barracks
are said to contain accommodation for 10,000 men.
THE HOWLING DERVISHES.
At two o'clock we entered the temple, a miserable wooden building.
Every Mussulman may take part in this religious ceremony; it is not
requisite that he should have attained to the rank and dignity of a
dervish. Even children of eight or nine stand up in a row outside
the circle of men, to gain an early proficiency in these holy
exercises.
The commencement of the ceremony is the same as with the dancing
dervishes; they have spread out carpets and skins of beasts, and are
bowing and kissing the ground. Now they stand up and form a circle
together with the laymen, when the chief begins in a yelling voice
to recite prayers from the Koran; by degrees those forming the
circle join in, and scream in concert. For the first hour some
degree of order is still preserved; the performers rest frequently
to husband their strength, which will be exerted to the utmost at
the close of the ceremony. But then the sight becomes as horrible
as one can well imagine any thing. They vie with one another in
yelling and howling, and torture their faces, heads, and bodies into
an infinite variety of fantastic attitudes. The roaring, which
resembles that of wild beasts, and the dreadful spasmodic
contortions of the actors' countenances, render this religious
ceremony a horrible and revolting spectacle.
The men stamp with their feet on the ground, jerk their heads
backwards and forwards, and certainly throw themselves into worse
contortions than those who are described as having been in old times
"vexed with a devil." During the exercise they snatch the covering
from their heads, and gradually take off all their clothes, with the
exception of shirt and trousers. The two high priests who stand
within the circle receive the garments one after another, kiss them,
and lay them on a heap together. The priests beat time with their
hands, and after the garments have been laid aside the dance becomes
faster and faster. Heavy drops of perspiration stand on every brow;
some are even foaming at the mouth. The howling and roaring at
length reach such a dreadful pitch, that the spectator feels stunned
and bewildered.
Suddenly one of these maniacs fell lifeless to the ground. The
priests and a few from the circle hurried towards him, stretched him
out flat, crossed his hands and feet, and covered him with a cloth.
The doctor and I were both considerably alarmed, for we thought the
poor man had been seized with apoplexy. To our surprise and joy,
however, we saw him about six or eight minutes afterwards suddenly
throw off the cloth, jump up, and once more take his place in the
circle to howl like a maniac.
At three o'clock the ceremony concluded. I would not advise any
person afflicted with weak nerves to witness it, for he certainly
could not endure the sight. I could have fancied myself among
raving lunatics and men possessed, rather than amidst reasonable
beings. It was long before I could recover my composure, and
realise the idea that the infatuation of man could attain such a
pitch. I was informed that before the ceremony they swallow opium,
to increase the wildness of their excitement!
The Achmaidon (place of arrows) deserves a visit, on account of the
beautiful view obtained thence; the traveller should see it, if he
be not too much pressed for time. This is the place which the
Sultan sometimes honours by his presence when he wishes to practise
archery.
On an open space stands a kind of pulpit of masonry, from which the
Sultan shoots arrows into the air without mark or aim. Where the
arrow falls, a pillar or pyramid is erected to commemorate the
remarkable event. The whole space is thus covered with a number of
these monuments, most of them broken and weather-stained, and all
scattered in the greatest confusion. Not far from this place is an
imperial kiosk, with a garden. Both promise much when viewed from a
distance, but realise nothing when seen from within.
THE TOWER IN GALATA.
Whoever wishes to appreciate in its fullest extent the charm of the
views round Constantinople should ascend the tower in Galata near
Pera, or the Serasker in Constantinople. According to my notion,
the former course is preferable. In this tower there is a room with
twelve windows placed in a circle, from which we see pictures such
as the most vivid imagination could hardly create.
Two quarters of the globe, on the shores of two seas united by the
Bosphorus, lie spread before us. The glorious hills with their
towns and villages, the number of palaces, gardens, kiosks, and
mosques, Chalcedon, the Prince's Islands, the Golden Horn, the
continual bustle on the sea, the immense fleet, besides the numerous
ships of other nations, the crowds of people in Pera, Galata, and
Topana--all unite to form a panorama of singular beauty. The
richest fancy would fail in the attempt to portray such a scene; the
most practised pen would be unequal to the task of adequately
describing it. But the gorgeous picture will be ever present to my
memory, though I lack the power of presenting it to the minds of
others.
Frequently, and each time with renewed pleasure, I ascended this
tower, and would sit there for hours, in admiration of the works of
the created and of the Creator. Exhausted and weary with gazing was
I each time I returned to my home. I think I may affirm that no
spot in the world can present such a view, or any thing that can be
compared with it. I found how right I had been in undertaking this
journey in preference to any other. Here another world lies
unfolded before my view. Every thing here is new--nature, art, men,
manners, customs, and mode of life. He who would see something
totally different from the every-day routine of European life in
European towns should come here.
THE BAZAAR.
In the town of Constantinople we come upon a wooden bridge, large,
long, and broad, stretching across the Golden Horn. The streets of
the town are rather better paved than those of Pera. In the bazaars
and on the sea-coast alone do we find an appearance of bustle; the
remaining streets are quiet enough.
The Bazaar is of vast extent, comprehending many covered streets,
which cross each other in every direction and receive light from
above. Every article of merchandise has its peculiar alley. In one
all the goldsmiths have their shops, in another the shoemakers; in
this street you see nothing but silks, in another real Cashmere
shawls, etc.
Every dealer has a little open shop, before which he sits, and
unceasingly invites the passers-by to purchase. Whoever wishes to
buy or to look at any thing sits down also in front of the booth.
The merchants are very good-natured and obliging; they always
willingly unfold and display their treasures, even when they notice
that the person to whom they are shewing them does not intend to
become a purchaser. I had, however, imagined the display of goods
to be much more varied and magnificent than I found it; but the
reason of this apparent poverty is that the true treasures of art
and nature, such as shawls, precious stones, pearls, valuable arms,
gold brocades, etc., must not be sought in the bazaars; they are
kept securely under lock and key in the dwellings or warehouses of
the proprietors, whither the stranger must go if he wishes to see
the richest merchandise.
The greatest number of streets occupied by the followers of any one
trade are those inhabited by the makers of shoes and slippers. A
degree of magnificence is displayed in their shops such as a
stranger would scarcely expect to see. There are slippers which are
worth 1000 piastres {53} a pair and more. They are embroidered with
gold, and ornamented with pearls and precious stones.
The Bazaar is generally so much crowded, that it is a work of no
slight difficulty to get through it; yet the space in the middle is
very broad, and one has rarely to step aside to allow a carriage or
a horseman to pass. But the bazaars and baths are the lounges and
gossiping places of the Turkish women. Under the pretence of
bathing or of wishing to purchase something, they walk about here
for half a day together, amusing themselves with small-talk, love-
affairs, and with looking at the wares.
THE MOSQUES.
Without spending a great deal of money, it is very difficult to
obtain admittance into the mosques. You are compelled to take out a
firmann, which costs from 1000 to 1200 piastres. A guide of an
enterprising spirit is frequently sufficiently acute to inquire in
the different hotels if there are any guests who wish to visit the
mosques. Each person who is desirous of doing so gives four or five
colonati {54} to the guide, who thereupon procures the firmann, and
frequently clears forty or fifty guilders by the transaction. An
opportunity of this description to visit the mosques generally
offers itself several times in the course of a month.
I had made up my mind that it would be impossible to quit
Constantinople without first seeing the four wonder-mosques, the Aja
Sofia, Sultan Achmed, Osmanije, and Soleimanije.
I had the good fortune to obtain admittance on paying a very
trifling sum; I think I should regret it to this day if I had paid
five colonati for such a purpose.
To an architect these mosques are no doubt highly interesting; to a
profane person like myself they offer little attraction. Their
principal beauty generally consists in the bold arches of the
cupolas. The interior is always empty, with the exception of a few
large chandeliers placed at intervals, and furnished with a large
number of perfectly plain glass lamps. The marble floors are
covered with straw mats. In the Sofia mosque we find a few pillars
which have been brought hither from Ephesus and Baalbec, and in a
compartment on one side several sarcophagi are deposited.
Before entering the mosque, you must either take off your shoes or
put on slippers over them. The outer courts, which are open to all,
are very spacious, paved with slabs of marble, and kept scrupulously
clean. In the midst stands a fountain, at which the Mussulman
washes his hands, his face, and his feet, before entering the
mosque. An open colonnade resting on pillars usually runs round the
mosques, and splendid plantains and other trees throw a delicious
shade around.
The mosque of Sultan Achmed, on the Hippodrome, is surrounded by six
minarets. Most of the others have only two, and some few four.
The kitchens for the poor, situated in the immediate neighbourhood
of the mosques, are a very praiseworthy institution. Here the poor
Mussulman is regaled on simple dishes, such as rice, beans,
cucumbers, etc., at the public expense. I marvelled greatly to find
no crowding at these places. Another and an equally useful measure
is the erection of numerous fountains of clear good water. This is
the more welcome when we remember that the Turkish religion forbids
the use of all spirituous liquors. At many of these fountains
servants are stationed, whose only duty is to keep ten or twelve
goblets of shining brass constantly filled with this refreshing
nectar, and to offer them to every passer-by, be he Turk or Frank.
Beer-houses and wine-shops are not to be found here. Would to
Heaven this were every where the case! How many a poor wretch would
never have been poor, and how many a madman would never have lost
his senses!
Not far from the Osmanije mosque is the
SLAVE-MARKET.
I entered it with a beating heart, and already before I had even
seen them, pitied the poor slaves. How glad, therefore, was I when
I found them not half so forlorn and neglected as we Europeans are
accustomed to imagine! I saw around me friendly smiling faces, from
the grimaces and contortions of which I could easily discover that
their owners were making quizzical remarks on every passing
stranger.
The market is a great yard, surrounded by rooms, in which the slaves
live. By day they may walk about in the yard, pay one another
visits, and chatter as much as they please.
In a market of this kind we, of course, see every gradation of
colour, from light brown to the deepest black. The white slaves,
and the most beautiful of the blacks, are not however to be seen by
every stranger, but are shut up in the dwellings of the traffickers
in human flesh. The dress of these people is simple in the extreme.
They either wear only a large linen sheet, which is wrapped round
them, or some light garment. Even this they are obliged to take off
when a purchaser appears. So long as they are in the hands of the
dealers, they are certainly not kept in very good style; so they all
look forward with great joy to the prospect of getting a master.
When they are once purchased, their fate is generally far from hard.
They always adopt the religion of their master, are not overburdened
with work, are well clothed and fed, and kindly treated. Europeans
also purchase slaves, but may not look upon them and treat them as
such; from the moment when a slave is purchased by a Frank he
becomes free. Slaves bought in this way, however, generally stay
with their masters.
THE OLD SERAIL
is, of course, an object of paramount attraction to us Europeans. I
betook myself thither with my expectations at full stretch, and once
more found the reality to be far below my anticipations. The effect
of the whole is certainly grand; many a little town would not cover
so much ground as this place, which consists of a number of houses
and buildings, kiosks, and summer-houses, surrounded with plantains
and cypress-trees, the latter half hidden amid gardens and arbours.
Everywhere there is a total want of symmetry and taste. I saw
something of the garden, walked through the first and second
courtyard, and even peeped into the third. In the last two yards
the buildings are remarkable for the number of cupolas they exhibit.
I saw a few rooms and large halls quite full of a number of European
things, such as furniture, clocks, vases, etc. My expectations were
sadly damped. The place where the heads of pashas who had fallen
into disfavour were exhibited is in the third yard. Heaven be
praised, no severed heads are now seen stuck on the palings.
I was not fortunate enough to be admitted into the imperial harem; I
did not possess sufficient interest to obtain a view of it. At a
later period of my journey, however, I succeeded in viewing several
harems.
THE HIPPODROME
is the largest and finest open place in Constantinople. After those
of Cairo and Padua, it is the most spacious I have seen any where.
Two obelisks of red granite, covered with hieroglyphics, are the
only ornaments of this place. The houses surrounding it are built,
according to the general fashion, of wood, and painted with oil-
colours of different tints. I here noticed a great number of pretty
children's carriages, drawn by servants. Many parents assembled
here to let their children be driven about.
Not far from the Hippodrome are the great cisterns with the thousand
and one pillars. Once on a time this gigantic fabric must have
presented a magnificent appearance. Now a miserable wooden
staircase, lamentably out of repair, leads you down a flight of
thirty or forty steps into the depths of one of these cisterns, the
roof of which is supported by three hundred pillars. This cistern
is no longer filled with water, but serves as a workshop for silk-
spinners. The place seems almost as if it had been expressly built
for such a purpose, as it receives light from above, and is cool in
summer, and warm during the winter. It is now impossible to
penetrate into the lower stories, as they are either filled with
earth or with water.
The aqueducts of Justinian and Valentinian are stupendous works.
They extend from Belgrade to the "Sweet Waters," a distance of about
fourteen miles, and supply the whole of Constantinople with a
sufficiency of water.
COFFEE-HOUSES--STORY-TELLERS.
Before I bade farewell to Constantinople for the present and betook
me to Pera, I requested my guide to conduct me to a few coffee-
houses, that I might have a new opportunity of observing the
peculiar customs and mode of life of the Turks. I had already
obtained some notion of the appearance of these places in Giurgewo
and Galatz; but in this imperial town I had fancied I should find
them somewhat neater and more ornamental. But this delusion
vanished as soon as I entered the first coffee-house. A wretchedly
dirty room, in which Turks, Greeks, Armenians, and others sat cross-
legged on divans, smoking and drinking coffee, was all I could
discover. In the second house I visited I saw, with great disgust,
that the coffee-room was also used as a barber's shop; on one side
they were serving coffee, and on the other a Turk was having his
head shaved. They say that bleeding is sometimes even carried on in
these booths.
In a coffee-house of a rather superior class we found one of the so-
called "story-tellers." The audience sit round in a half-circle,
and the narrator stands in the foreground, and quietly begins a tale
from the Thousand and One Nights; but as he continues he becomes
inspired, and at length roars and gesticulates like the veriest
ranter among a company of strolling players.
Sherbet is not drunk in all the coffee-houses; but every where we
find stalls and booths where this cooling and delicious beverage is
to be had. It is made from the juice of fruits, mixed with that of
lemons and pomegranates. In Pera ice is only to be had in the
coffee-houses of the Franks, or of Christian confectioners. All
coffee-house keepers are obliged to buy their coffee ready burnt and
ground from the government, the monopoly of this article being an
imperial privilege. A building has been expressly constructed for
its preparation, where the coffee is ground to powder by machinery.
The coffee is made very strong, and poured out without being
strained, a custom which I could not bring myself to like.
It is well worth the traveller's while to make an
EXCURSION TO EJUB,
the greatest suburb of Constantinople, and also the place where the
richest and most noble of the Turks are buried.
Ejub, the standard-bearer of Mahomet, rests here in a magnificent
mosque, built entirely of white marble. None but a Mussulman may
tread this hallowed shrine. A tolerably good view of the interior
can, however, be obtained from without, as the windows are lofty and
broad, and reach nearly to the ground. The sarcophagus stands in a
hall; it is covered with a richly embroidered pall, over which are
spread five or six "real" shawls. The part beneath which the head
rests is surmounted by a turban, also of real shawls. The chief
sarcophagus is surrounded by several smaller coffins, in which
repose the wives, children, and nearest relations of Ejub. Hard by
the mosque we find a beautiful fountain of white marble, surrounded
by a railing of gilded iron, and furnished with twelve bright
drinking-cups of polished brass. A Turk here is appointed expressly
to hand these to the passers-by. A little crooked garden occupies
the space behind the mosque. The mosques in which the dead sultans
are deposited are all built in the same manner as that of Ejub.
Instead of the turban, handsome fez-caps, with the heron's feather,
lie on the coffins. Among the finest mosques is that in which
repose the remains of the late emperor. In Ejub many very costly
monuments are to be seen. They are generally surrounded by richly-
gilt iron railings, their peaks surmounted by the shining crescent,
and forming an arch above a sarcophagus, round which are planted
rose-bushes and dwarf cypresses, with ivy and myrtle clinging to
their stems. It would, however, be very erroneous to suppose that
the rich alone lie buried here. The poor man also finds his nook;
and frequently we see close by a splendid monument the modest stone
which marks the resting-place of the humble Mussulman.
On my return I met the funeral of a poor Turk. If my attention had
not been attracted to the circumstance, I should have passed by
without heeding it. The corpse was rolled in a cloth, fastened at
the head and at the feet, and laid on a board which a man carried on
his shoulder. At the grave the dead man is once more washed,
wrapped in clean linen cloths, and thus lowered into the earth. And
this is as it should be. Why should the pomp and extravagance of
man accompany him to his last resting-place? Were it not well if in
this matter we abated something of our conventionality and
ostentation? I do not mean to say that interments need be stripped
of every thing like ornament; in all things the middle way is the
safest. A simple funeral has surely in it more that awakes true
religious feeling than the pomp and splendour which are too
frequently made the order of the day in these proceedings. In this
case are not men sometimes led away to canvass and to criticise the
splendour of the show, while they should be deducing a wholesome
moral lesson for themselves, or offering up a fervent prayer to the
Almighty for the peace of the departed spirit?
HOUSES--THEATRES--CARRIAGES.
The houses in the whole of Constantinople, in which we may include
Pera, Topana, etc., are very slightly and carelessly put together.
No door, no window, closes and fits well; the floorings frequently
exhibit gaps an inch in breadth; and yet rents are very high. The
reason of this is to be found in the continual danger of fire to
which all towns built of wood are exposed. Every proprietor of a
house calculates that he may be burnt out in the course of five or
six years, and therefore endeavours to gain back his capital with
interest within this period. Thus we do not find the houses so well
built or so comfortably furnished as in the generality of European
towns.
There is a theatre in Pera, which will hold from six to seven
hundred spectators. At the time of my sojourn there, a company of
Italian singers were giving four representations every week. Operas
of the most celebrated masters were here to be heard; but I attended
one representation, and had quite enough. The wonder is that such
an undertaking answers at all, as the Turks have no taste for music,
and the Franks are too fastidious to be easily satisfied.
The carriages--which are, generally speaking, only used by women--
are of two kinds. The first is in the shape of a balloon, finely
painted and gilt, and furnished with high wheels. On each side is
an opening, to enter which the passenger mounts on a wooden stool,
placed there by the coachman every time he ascends or descends. The
windows or openings can be closed with Venetian blinds. These
carriages contain neither seats nor cushion. Every one who drives
out takes carpets or bolsters with him, spreads them out inside the
coach, and sits down cross-legged. A carriage of this description
will hold four persons. The second species of carriage only differs
from that already described in having still higher wheels, and
consisting of a kind of square box, covered in at the top, but open
on all sides. The passengers enter at the back, and there is
generally room for eight persons. The former kind of vehicle is
drawn by one horse in shafts, and sometimes by two; the latter by
one or two oxen, also harnessed in shafts, which are, however,
furnished in addition with a wooden arch decorated with flowers,
coloured paper, and ribbons. The coachman walks on foot beside his
cattle, to guide them with greater security through the uneven ill-
paved streets, in which you are continually either ascending or
descending a hill.
Wagons there are none; every thing is carried either by men, horses,
or asses. This circumstance explains the fact that more porters are
found here than in any other city. These men are agile and very
strong; a porter often bears a load of from one hundred to a hundred
and fifty pounds through the rugged hilly streets. Wood, coals,
provisions, and building-materials are carried by horses and asses.
This may be one reason why every thing is so dear in Constantinople.
CHAPTER IV.
Walks and drives of the townspeople--The "Sweet Waters"--
Chalcedonia--Baluklid--The great and little Campo--Feasts in
Constantinople--Anniversary of Mahomet's death--Easter holidays of
the Greeks--Gladiators and wrestlers--Excursion to Brussa--Olive-
trees--Mosques at Brussa--Stone bridge--Wild dogs--Baths and mineral
springs--Return to Constantinople.
On Sundays and holydays the "Sweet Waters" of Europe are much
frequented. One generally crosses the Golden Horn, into which the
sweet water runs, in a kaik. There is, however, another way thither
across the mountains.
A large grass-plat, surrounded by trees, is the goal towards which
the heaving multitude pours. Here are to be seen people from all
quarters of the globe, and of all shades of colour, reclining in
perfect harmony on carpets, mats, and pillows, and solacing
themselves, pipe in mouth, with coffee and sweetmeats. Many pretty
Jewesses, mostly unveiled, are to be seen among the crowd.
On Friday, the holiday of the Turks, the scene in the Asiatic Sweet
Waters is just as animated; and here there is much more to interest
us Europeans, as the company consists chiefly of Turks, male and
female. The latter have, as usual, their faces covered: the most
beautiful feature, the flaming eye, is, however, visible.
The trip across the sea to the Asiatic Sweet Waters is incomparably
more beautiful and interesting than the journey to the European. We
travel up the Bosphorus, in the direction of the Black Sea, past the
splendid new palace of the Sultan. Though this palace is chiefly of
wood, the pillars, staircases, and the ground-floor, built of marble
of dazzling whiteness, are strikingly beautiful. The great gates,
of gilded cast-iron, may be called masterpieces; they were purchased
in England for the sum of 8000 pounds. The roof of the palace is in
the form of a terrace, and round this terrace runs a magnificent
gallery, built only of wood, but artistically carved. We also pass
the two ancient castles which command the approach to
Constantinople, and then turn to the right towards the Sweet Waters.
The situation of this place is most lovely; it lies in a beautiful
valley surrounded by green hills.
Very interesting is also an excursion to Chalcedonia, a peninsula in
the Sea of Marmora, on the Asiatic side, adjoining Scutari. We were
rowed thither in a two-oared kaik in an hour and a quarter. The
finest possible weather favoured our trip. A number of dolphins
gambolled around our boat; we saw these tame fishes darting to and
fro in all directions, and leaping into the air. It is a peculiar
circumstance with regard to these creatures, that they never swim
separately, but always either in pairs or larger companies.
The views which we enjoy during these trips are peculiarly lovely.
Scutari lies close on our left; the foreground is occupied by
mountains of moderate elevation; and above them, in the far
distance, gleams the snow-clad summit of Olympus. The uninhabited
Prince's Island and the two Dog Islands are not the most picturesque
objects to be introduced in such a landscape. To make up for the
disadvantage of their presence we have, however, a good view of the
Sea of Marmora, and can also distinguish the greater portion of the
city of Constantinople.
On Chalcedonia itself there is nothing to be seen but a lighthouse.
Beautiful grass-plats, with a few trees and a coffee-house, are the
chief points of attraction with the townspeople.
An excursion by sea to Baluklid is also to be recommended. You pass
the entire Turkish fleet, which is very considerable, and see the
largest ship in the world, the "Mahmud," of 140 guns, built during
the reign of the late Sultan Mahmud. Several three-deckers of 120
guns, some of them unrigged, and many men-of-war mounting from forty
to sixty cannons, lie in the harbour. For an hour and a half we are
riding through the Sea of Marmora, to the left of the great quay
which surrounds the walls of Constantinople. Here, for the first
time, we see the giant city in all its magnificent proportions. We
also passed the "Seven Towers," of which, however, only five remain
standing; the other two, I was told, had fallen in. If these towers
really answer no other purpose than that of prisons for the European
ambassadors during tumults or in the event of hostilities, I think
the sooner the remaining five tumble down the better; for the
European powers will certainly not brook such an insult from the
Turks, now in the day of their decline.
We disembarked immediately beyond the "Seven Towers," and walked for
half an hour through long empty streets, then out at the town-gate,
where the cypress-grove for a time conceals from our view a large
open space on which is built a pretty Greek church. I was told that
during the holidays at Easter such riotous scenes were here enacted
that broken heads were far from being phenomena of rare occurrence.
In the church there is a cold spring containing little fishes. A
legend goes, that on the high days at Easter these poor little
creatures swim about half fried and yet alive, because once upon a
time, when Constantinople was besieged, a general said that it was
no more likely that the city could be taken than that fishes could
swim about half fried. Ever since that period the wonderful miracle
of the fried fish is said to occur annually at Easter.
On our return to our kaik, we saw near the shore an enormous cuttle-
fish, more than fourteen feet in length, which had just been taken
and killed. A number of fishermen were trying with ropes and poles
to drag the monster ashore.
The walks in the immediate neighbourhood of Pera are the great and
little Campo, and somewhat farther distant the great bridge which
unites Topana with Constantinople; the latter is a most amusing
walk, during which we can view the life and bustle on both shores at
the same time. In the little Campo are two Frankish coffee-houses,
before which we sit quite in European fashion on handsome chairs and
benches, listening to pleasant music, and regaling ourselves with
ices.
FEASTS IN CONSTANTINOPLE.
During my residence in Constantinople I had the good fortune to be
present at some very entertaining festivities. The most magnificent
of these took place on the 23d of April, the anniversary of
Mahomet's death.
On the eve of this feast we enjoyed a fairy-like spectacle. The
tops of all the minarets were illuminated with hundreds of little
lamps; and as there are a great many of these slender spires, it can
be readily imagined that this sea of light must have a beautiful
effect. The Turkish ships in the harbour presented a similar
appearance. At every loop-hole a large lamp occupied the place of
the muzzle of the cannon. At nine o'clock in the evening, salvoes
were fired from the ships; and at the moment that the cannons were
fired, the lamps vanished, flashes of light and gunpowder-smoke
filled the air; a few seconds afterwards, as if by magic, the lamps
had reappeared. This salute was repeated three times.
The morning of the 23d was ushered in by the booming of the cannon.
All the Turkish ships had hoisted their flags, and garlands of
coloured paper were twined round the masts to their very tops.
At nine o'clock I proceeded in the company of several friends to
Constantinople, to see the grand progress of the Sultan to the
mosque. As with us, it is here the custom to post soldiers on
either side of the way. The procession was headed by the officers
and government officials; but after every couple of officers or
statesmen followed their servants, generally to the number of twelve
or fifteen persons, in very variegated costumes, partly Turkish,
partly European, and withal somewhat military; in fact, a perfect
motley. Then came the Emperor's state-horses, splendid creatures,
the majority of them of the true Arabian breed, decorated with
saddle-cloths richly embroidered with gold, pearls, and precious
stones, and proudly moving their plumed heads. Their spirited
appearance and beautiful paces excited the admiration of all the
learned in such matters. They were followed by a number of pages on
foot; these pages are not, however, youths, as in other countries,
but men of tried fidelity. In their midst rode the youthful
Emperor, wrapped in his cape, and wearing in his fez-cap a fine
heron's plume, buckled with the largest diamond in Europe. As the
Sultan passed by, he was greeted by the acclamations of the
military, but not of the people. The soldiers closed the
procession; but their bearing is not nearly so haughty as that of
the horses. The reason of this is simple enough--no one dares look
upon the Arabians with an evil eye, but the soldiers are entirely
subject to the caprice of their officers. I would certainly rather
be the Sultan's horse than his soldier.
The uniforms of the officers, in their profusion of gold embroidery,
resemble those of our hussars. The privates have very comfortable
jackets and trousers of blue cloth with red trimmings; some have
jackets entirely of a red colour. The artillerymen wear red
facings. Their chaussure is pitiable in the extreme: some have
boots, not unfrequently decorated with spurs; others have shoes,
trodden down at heel and terribly tattered; and some even appear in
slippers. All are without stockings, and thus naked feet peer forth
every where. The position of the men with regard to each other is
just as irregular; a little dwarf may frequently be seen posted next
to a giant, a boy of twelve or fourteen years near a grey-headed
veteran, and a negro standing next to a white man.
At this feast a great concourse of people was assembled, and every
window was crowded with muffled female heads.
We had been advised not to be present at this ceremony, as it was
stated to be of a purely religious nature, and it was feared we
should be exposed to annoyance from the fanaticism of the Mussulmen.
I am glad to say, however, that the curiosity of my party was
stronger than their apprehensions. We pushed through every where,
and I had again occasion to feel assured that grievous wrong is
frequently done the good Turks. Not only was there no appearance of
a disposition to annoy us, but we even obtained very good places
without much trouble.
On their Easter days the Greeks have a feast in the great Campo. On
all the three holidays, the hamaks (water-carriers and porters),
after the service is over, march in large numbers to the Campo with
songs and music, with noise and shouting, waving their handkerchiefs
in the air. Arrived at their destination, they divide into
different groups, and proceed to amuse themselves much after the
manner of other nations. A number of tents are erected, where a
great deal of cooking and baking is carried on. Large companies are
sitting on the ground or on the tombstones, eating and drinking in
quiet enjoyment. We see a number of swings laden with men and
children; on this side we hear the squeaking of a bagpipe, on that
the sound of a pipe and drum, uttering such dismal music that the
hearer instinctively puts a finger into each ear. To this music a
real bear's dance is going on. Six or eight fellows stand in a half
circle round the musician, and two leaders of these light-toed
clodhoppers continually wave their handkerchiefs in the air as they
stamp slowly and heavily round in a circle. The women are allowed
to appear at this feast, but may neither take part in the swinging
nor in the dancing. They therefore keep up a brave skirmishing with
the sweetmeats, coffee, and delicacies of all kinds. The more
wealthy portion of the community employ these days in riding to
Baluklid, to gaze and wonder at the miracle of the half-baked and
yet living fishes.
As the Greeks are not so good-natured as the Turks, the latter
seldom take part in their festivities. Turkish women never appear
on these occasions.
On the 8th of May I saw a truly Turkish fete in the neighbourhood of
the Achmaidon (place of arrows).
In a plain surrounded on all sides by hills, men of all nations
formed a large but closely-packed circle. Kavasses (gens d'arme)
were there to keep order among the people, and several officers sat
among the circle to keep order among the kavasses. The spectacle
began. Two wrestlers or gladiators made their appearance,
completely undressed, with the exception of trousers of strong
leather. They had rubbed themselves all over with oil, so that
their joints might be soft and supple, and also that their adversary
should not be able to obtain a firm hold when they grappled
together. They made several obeisances to the spectators, began
with minor feats of wrestling, and frequently stopped for a few
moments in order to husband their strength. Then the battle began
afresh, and became hotter and hotter, till at length one of the
combatants was hailed as victor by the shouting mob. He is declared
the conqueror who succeeds in throwing his opponent in such a manner
that he can sit down upon him as on a horse. A combat of this kind
usually lasts a quarter of an hour. The victor walks triumphantly
round the circle to collect his reward. The unfortunate vanquished
conceals himself among the spectators, scarcely daring to lift his
eyes. These games last for several hours; as one pair of gladiators
retire, they are replaced by another.
Greek, Turkish, and Armenian women may only be spectators of these
games from a distance; they therefore occupy the adjoining heights.
For the rest, the arrangements are the same as at the Greek Easter
feast. People eat, drink, and dance. No signs of beer, wine, or
liqueur are to be discovered, and consequently there is no
drunkenness.
The Turkish officers were here polite enough to surrender the best
places to us strangers. I had many opportunities of noticing the
character of the Mussulman, and found, to my great delight, that he
is much better and more honest than prejudices generally allow us to
believe. Even in matters of commerce and business it is better to
have to do with a Turk than with a votary of any other creed, not
even excepting my own.
During my stay at Constantinople (from the 5th of April until May
17th) I found the weather just as changeable as in my own country;
so much so, in fact, that the temperature frequently varied twelve
or fourteen degrees within four-and-twenty hours.
EXCURSION TO BRUSSA.
The two brothers, Baron Charles and Frederick von Buseck, and Herr
Sattler, the talented artist, resolved to make an excursion to
Brussa; and as I had expressed a similar wish, they were obliging
enough to invite me to make a fourth in their party. But when it
came to the point, I had almost become irresolute. I was asked by
some one if I was a good rider; "for if you are not," said my
questioner, "it would be far better for you not to accompany them,
as Brussa is four German miles distant from Gemlek, and the road is
bad, so that the gentlemen must ride briskly if they wish to reach
the town before sundown, starting as they would at half-past two in
the afternoon, the general hour of landing at Gemlek. In the event
of your being unable to keep up with the rest, you would put them to
great inconvenience, or they will be compelled to leave you behind
on the road."
I had never mounted a horse, and felt almost inclined to confess the
fact; but my curiosity to see Brussa, the beautiful town at the foot
of Olympus, gained the day, and I boldly declared that I had no
doubt I should be able to keep pace with my companions.
On the 13th of May we left Constantinople at half-past six in the
morning, on board a little steamer of forty-horse power. Passing
the Prince's and Dog Islands, we swept across the Sea of Marmora
towards the snow-crowned Olympus, until, after a voyage of seven
hours, we reached Gemlek.
Gemlek, distant thirty sea miles from Constantinople, is a miserable
place, but nevertheless does some trade as the harbour of Bithynia.
The agent of the Danube Navigation Company was civil enough to
procure us good horses, and a genuine, stalwart, and fierce-looking
Turkoman for a guide. This man wore in his girdle several pistols
and a dagger; a long crooked scimitar hung at his side; and instead
of shoes and slippers, large boots decked his feet, bordered at the
top by a wide stripe of white cloth, on which were depicted blue
flowers and other ornaments. His head was graced by a handsome
turban.
At half-past two o'clock the horses arrived. I swung myself boldly
upon my Rosinante, called on my good angel to defend me, and away we
started, slowly at first, over stock and stone. My joy was
boundless when I found that I could sit steadily upon my horse; but
shortly afterwards, when we broke into a trot, I began to feel
particularly uncomfortable, as I could not get on at all with the
stirrup, which was continually slipping to my heel, while sometimes
my foot slid out of it altogether, and I ran the risk of losing my
balance. Oh, what would I not have given to have asked advice of
any one! But unfortunately I could not do so without at once
betraying my ignorance of horsemanship. I therefore took care to
bring up the rear, under the pretence that my horse was shy, and
would not go well unless it saw the others before it. My real
reason was that I wished to hide my manoeuvres from the gentlemen,
for every moment I expected to fall. Frequently I clutched the
saddle with both hands, as I swayed from side to side. I looked
forward in terror to the gallop, but to my surprise found that I
could manage this pace better than the trot. My courage brought its
reward, for I reached the goal of our journey thoroughly shaken, but
without mishap. During the time that we travelled at a foot-pace, I
had found leisure to contemplate the scenery around us. For half
the entire distance we ride from one valley into another; as often
as a hill is reached, there is a limited prospect before the
traveller, who has, however, only to turn his head, and he enjoys a
beautiful view over the Sea of Marmora. After a ride of two hours
and a half we arrived at a little khan, {71a} where we rested for
half an hour. Proceeding thence a short distance, we reached the
last hills; and the great valley, at the end of which Brussa is seen
leaning against Olympus, lay stretched before our eager eyes, while
behind us we could still distinguish, far beyond hill and dale, the
distant sea skirting the horizon. Yet, beautiful as this landscape
undoubtedly is, I had seen it surpassed in Switzerland. The immense
valley which lies spread out before Brussa is uncultivated,
deserted, and unwatered; no carpet of luxuriant verdure, no rushing
river, no pretty village, gives an air of life to this magnificent
and yet monotonous region; and no giant mountains covered with
eternal snow look down upon the plain beneath. Pictures like these
I had frequently found in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, and also near
Salzburg. Here I saw, indeed, separate beauties, but no harmonious
whole. Olympus is a fine majestic mountain, forming an extended
barrier; but its height can scarcely exceed 6000 feet; {71b} and
during the present month it is totally despoiled of its surface of
glittering snow. Brussa, with its innumerable minarets, is the only
point of relief to which the eye continually recurs, because there
is nothing beyond to attract it. A little brook, crossed by a very
high stone bridge, but so shallow already in the middle of May as
hardly to cover our horses' hoofs; and towards Brussa, a miserable
village, with a few plantations of olives and mulberry-trees,--are
the only objects to be discovered throughout the whole wide expanse.
Wherever I found the olive-tree--here, near Trieste, and in Sicily,--
it was alike ugly. The stem is gnarled, and the leaves are narrow
and of a dingy green colour. The mulberry-tree, with its luxuriant
bright green foliage, forms an agreeable contrast to the olive. The
silk produced in this neighbourhood is peculiarly fine in quality,
and the stuffs from Brussa are renowned far and wide.
We reached the town in safety before sunset. It is one of the most
disagreeable circumstances that can happen to the traveller to
arrive at an Oriental town after evening has closed in. He finds
the gates locked, and may clamour for admittance in vain.
In order to gain our inn, we were obliged to ride through the
greater part of the town. I had here an opportunity of observing
that it is just as unsightly as the interior of Constantinople. The
streets are narrow, and the houses built of wood, plaster, and some
even of stone; but all wear an aspect of poverty, and at the same
time of singularity;--the gables projecting so much that they occupy
half the width of the street, and render it completely dark, while
they increase its narrowness. The inn, too, at which we put up,
looked far from inviting when viewed from the outside, so that we
had some dark misgivings respecting the quality of the accommodation
that awaited us. But in proportion as the outside had looked
unpropitious, were we agreeably surprised on entering. A neat and
roomy courtyard, with a basin of pure sparkling water in the midst,
surrounded by mulberry-trees, was the first thing we beheld. Round
this courtyard were two stories of clean but simply-furnished rooms.
The fare was good, and we were even regaled with a bottle of
excellent wine from the lower regions of Olympus.
May 14th.
Next morning we visited the town and its environs, under the
guidance and protection of a kavasse. The town itself is of great
extent, and is reported to contain above 10,000 houses, inhabited
exclusively by Turks. The population of the suburbs, which comprise
nearly 4000 houses, is a mixed one of Christians, Jews, Greeks, etc.
The town numbers three hundred and sixty mosques; but the greater
portion of them are so insignificant and in such a dilapidated
condition, that we scarcely observed them.
Strangers are here permitted to enter the mosques in company of a
kavasse. We visited some of the principal, among which the Ulla
Drchamy may decidedly be reckoned. The cupola of this mosque is
considered a masterpiece, and rests upon graceful columns. It is
open at the top, thus diffusing a chastened light and a clear
atmosphere throughout the building. Immediately beneath this cupola
stands a large marble basin, in which small fishes swim merrily
about.
The mosque of Sultan Mahomed I. and of Sultan Ildirim Bojasid must
also be noticed on account of their splendid architecture; the
latter, too, for the fine view which is thence obtained. In the
mosque of Murad I. visitors are still shewn weapons and garments
which once belonged to that sultan. I saw none of the magnificent
regal buildings mentioned by some writers. The imperial kiosk is so
simple in its appearance, that if we had not climbed the hill on
which it stands for the sake of the view, it would not have been
worth the trouble of the walk.
A stone bridge, roofed throughout its entire length, crosses the bed
of the river, which has very steep banks, but contains very little
water. A double row of small cottages, in which silk-weavers live
and ply their trade, lines this bridge, which I was surprised to see
here, as its architecture seemed rather to appertain to my own
country than to the East. During my whole journey I did not see a
second bridge of this kind, either in Syria or Egypt.
The streets are all very dull and deserted, a fact which is rather
remarkable in a town of 100,000 inhabitants. In most of the streets
more dogs than men are to be seen. Not only in Constantinople, but
almost in every Oriental town, vast numbers of these creatures run
about in a wild state.
Here, as every where, some degree of bustle is to be found in the
bazaars, particularly in those which are covered in. Beautiful and
durable silk stuffs, the most valuable of which are kept in
warehouses under lock and key, form the chief article of traffic.
In the public bazaar we found nothing exposed for sale except
provisions. Among these I remarked some small, very unpalatable
cherries. Asia Minor is the fatherland of this fruit, but I did not
find it in any degree of perfection either here or at Smyrna.
Brussa is peculiarly rich in cold springs, clear as crystal, which
burst forth from Mount Olympus. The town is intersected in all
directions by subterranean canals; in many streets, the ripple of
the waters below can be distinctly heard, and every house is
provided with wells and stone basins of the limpid element; in some
of the bazaars we find a similar arrangement.
On a nearer approach, the appearance of Mount Olympus is not nearly
so grand as when viewed from a distance. The mountain is surrounded
by several small hills, which detract from the general effect.
The baths, distant about a mile from the town, are prettily and
healthfully situated, and, moreover, abundantly supplied with
mineral water. Many strangers resort thither to recruit their
weakened frames.
The finest among these baths is called Jeni Caplidche. A lofty
circular hall contains a great swimming bath of marble, above which
rises a splendid cupola. A number of refracting glasses (six
hundred, they told me) diffuse a magic light around.
Our journey back to Constantinople was not accomplished entirely
without mishap. One of the gentlemen fell from his horse and broke
his watch. The saddles and bridles of hired horses are here
generally in such bad condition that there is every moment something
to buckle or to cobble up. We were riding at a pretty round pace,
when suddenly the girths burst, and the saddle and rider tumbled off
together. I arrived without accident at my destination, although I
had frequently been in danger of falling from my horse without its
being necessary that the girth should break.
The gentlemen were satisfied with my performance, for I had never
lagged behind, nor had they once been detained on my account. It
was not until we were safely on board the ship that I told them how
venturesome I had been, and what terror I had undergone.
CHAPTER V.
Contradictory reports--Departure from Constantinople on board the
Archduke John--Scene on the steamer--Galipoli--The Dardanelles--
Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar--The field of Troy--Tenedos--Smyrna--
Halizar--The date-palm--Burnaba--The Acropolis--Female beauty--
Rhodes--Strong fortifications--Deserted appearance of the town--
Cyprus.
The extremely unfavourable reports I heard from Beyrout and
Palestine caused me to defer my departure from day to day. When I
applied to my consul for a "firmann" (Turkish passport), I was
strongly advised not to travel to the Holy Land. The disturbances
on Mount Lebanon and the plague were, they assured me, enemies too
powerful to be encountered except in cases of the most urgent
necessity.
A priest who had arrived from Beyrout about two months previously
affirmed positively that, in consequence of the serious
disturbances, even he, known though he was far and wide as a
physician, had not dared to venture more than a mile from the town
without exposing himself to the greatest danger. He advised me to
stay in Constantinople until the end of September, and then to
travel to Jerusalem with the Greek caravan. This, he said, was the
only method to reach that city in safety.
One day I met a pilgrim in a church who came from Palestine. On my
asking his advice, he not only confirmed the priest's report, but
even added that one of his companions had been murdered whilst
journeying homeward, and that he himself had been despoiled of his
goods, and had only escaped death through the special interposition
of Providence. I did not at all believe the asseverations of this
man; he related all his adventures with such a Baron Munchausen air,
assumed probably to excite admiration. I continued my
investigations on this subject until I was at length fortunate
enough to find some one who told an entirely different tale. From
this I felt assured at least of the fact, that it would be almost
impossible to learn the true state of the case here in
Constantinople, and at length made up my mind to avail myself of the
earliest opportunity of proceeding as far as Beyrout, where there
was a chance of my getting at the truth.
I was advised to perform this journey in male attire; but I did not
think it advisable to do so, as my short, spare figure would have
seemed to belong to a youth, and my face to an old man. Moreover,
as I had no beard, my disguise would instantly have been seen
through, and I should have been exposed to much annoyance. I
therefore preferred retaining the simple costume, consisting of a
kind of blouse and wide Turkish trousers, which I then wore. The
further I travelled, the more I became persuaded how rightly I had
acted in not concealing my sex. Every where I was treated with
respect, and kindness and consideration were frequently shewn me
merely because I was a woman. On
May 17th
I embarked on board a steamboat belonging to the Austrian Lloyd. It
was called the Archduke John.
It was with a feeling of painful emotion that I stood on the deck,
gazing with an air of abstraction at the preparations for the long
voyage which were actively going on around me. Once more I was
alone among a crowd of people, with nothing to depend on but my
trust in Providence. No friendly sympathetic being accompanied me
on board. All was strange. The people, the climate, country,
language, the manners and customs--all strange. But a glance upward
at the unchanging stars, and the thought came into my soul, "Trust
in God, and thou art not alone." And the feeling of despondency
passed away, and soon I could once more contemplate with pleasure
and interest all that was going on around me.
Near me stood a poor mother who could not bear to part with her son.
Time after time she folded him in her arms, and kissed and blessed
him. Poor mother! wilt thou see him again, or will the cold ground
be a barrier between you till this life is past? Peace be with you
both!
A whole tribe of people came noisily towards us;--they were friends
of the crew, who bounced about the ship from stem to stern,
canvassing its merits in comparison with French and English vessels.
Suddenly there was a great crowding on the swinging ladder, of
chests, boxes, and baskets. Men were pushing and crushing backwards
and forwards. Turks, Greeks, and others quarrelled and jostled each
other for the best places on the upper deck, and in a few moments
the whole large expanse wore the appearance of a bivouac. Mats and
mattresses were every where spread forth, provisions were piled up
in heaps, and culinary utensils placed in order beside them; and
before these preparations had been half completed the Turks began
washing their faces, hands, and feet, and unfolding their carpets,
to perform their devotions. In one corner of the ship I even
noticed that a little low tent had been erected; it was so closely
locked, that for a long time I could not discern whether human
beings or merchandise lay concealed within. No movement of the
interior was to be perceived, and it was not until some days
afterwards that I was informed by a Turk what the tent really
contained. A scheick from the Syrian coast had purchased two girls
at Constantinople, and was endeavouring to conceal them from the
gaze of the curious. I was for nine days on the same vessel with
these poor creatures, and during the whole time had not an
opportunity of seeing either of them. At the debarcation, too, they
were so closely muffled that it was impossible to discover whether
they were white or black.
At six o'clock the bell was rung to warn all strangers to go ashore;
and now I could discover who were really to be the companions of my
journey. I had flattered myself that I should find several Franks
on board, who might be bound to the same destination as myself; but
this hope waxed fainter and fainter every moment, as one European
after another left the ship, until at length I found myself alone
among the strange Oriental nations.
The anchor was now weighed, and we moved slowly out of the harbour.
I offered up a short but fervent prayer for protection on my long
and dangerous voyage, and with a calmed and strengthened spirit I
could once more turn my attention towards my fellow-passengers, who
having concluded their devotions were sitting at their frugal meal.
During the whole time they remained on the steamer these people
subsisted on cold provisions, such as cheese, bread, hard-boiled
eggs, anchovies, olives, walnuts, a great number of onions, and
dried "mishmish," a kind of small apricot, which instead of being
boiled is soaked in water for a few hours. In a sailing vessel it
is usual to bring a small stove and some wood, in order to cook
pilau, beans, fowls, and to boil coffee, etc. This, of course, is
not allowed on board a steamboat.
The beauty of the evening kept me on deck, and I looked with a
regretful feeling towards the imperial city, until the increasing
distance and the soft veil of evening combined to hide it from my
view, though at intervals the graceful minarets were still dimly
discernible through the mist. But who shall describe my feelings of
joy when I discovered a European among the passengers? Now I was no
longer alone; in the first moments we even seemed fellow-countrymen,
for the barriers that divide Europeans into different nations fall
as they enter a new quarter of the globe. We did not ask each
other, Are you from England, France, Italy; we inquired, Whither are
you going? and on its appearing that this gentleman intended
proceeding, like myself, to Jerusalem, we at once found so much to
talk about concerning the journey, that neither of us thought for a
moment of inquiring to what country the other belonged. We
conversed in the universal French language, and were perfectly
satisfied when we found we could understand each other. It was not
until the following day that I discovered the gentleman to be an
Englishman, and learned that his name was Bartlett. {79}
In Constantinople we had both met with the same fate. He had been,
like myself, unable to obtain any certain intelligence, either at
his consul's or from the inhabitants, as to the feasibility of a
journey to Jerusalem, and so he was going to seek further
information at Beyrout. We arranged that we would perform the
journey from Beyrout to Jerusalem in company,--if, indeed, we found
it possible to penetrate among the savage tribes of Druses and
Maronites. So now I no longer stood unprotected in the wide world.
I had found a companion as far as Jerusalem, the goal of my journey,
which I could now hope to reach.
I was well satisfied with the arrangements on board. I had made up
my mind, though not without sundry misgivings, to take a second-
class berth; and on entering the steamer of the Austrian Lloyd, I
discovered to my surprise how much may be effected by order and good
management. Here the men and the women were separately lodged,
wash-hand basins were not wanting, we fared well, and could not be
cheated when we paid for our board, as the accounts were managed by
the first mate: on the remaining steamers belonging to this company
I found the arrangements equally good.
Crossing the Sea of Marmora, we passed the "Seven Towers," leaving
the Prince's Islands behind us on the left.
Early on the following day,
May 18th,
we reached the little town of Galipoli, situate on an eminence near
the Hellespont. A few fragments of ruins in the last stage of
dilapidation cause us to think of the ages that have fled, as we
speed rapidly on. We waited here a quarter of an hour to increase
the motley assemblage on deck by some new arrivals.
For the next 20 miles, as far as Sed Bahe, the sea is confined
within such narrow bounds, that one could almost fancy it was a
channel dug to unite the Sea of Marmora with the Archipelago. It is
very appropriately called the STRAIT of the Dardanelles. On the
left we have always the mainland of Asia, and on the right a tongue
of land belonging to Europe, and terminating at Sed Bahe. The
shores on both sides are desert and bare. It is a great contrast to
former times, a contrast which every educated traveller must feel as
he travels hither from the Bosphorus. What stirring scenes were
once enacted here! Of what deeds of daring, chronicled in history,
were not these regions the scene! Every moment brought us nearer to
the classic ground. Alas, that we were not permitted to land on any
of the Greek Islands, past which we flew so closely! I was obliged,
perforce, to content myself with thinking of the past, of the
history of ancient Greece, without viewing the sites where the great
deeds had been done.
The two castles of the Dardanelles, Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar,
that on the Asiatic shore looking like a ruin, while its European
neighbour wore the appearance of a fortress, let us steam past
unchallenged. And how shall I describe the emotions I felt as we
approached the plains of Troy?
I was constantly on deck, lest I should lose any portion of the
view, and scarcely dared to breathe when at length the long-wished-
for plain came in sight.
Here it is, then, that this famous city is supposed to have stood.
Yonder mounds, perchance, cover the resting-places of Achilles,
Patroclus, Ajax, Hector, and many other heroes who may have served
their country as faithfully as these, though their names do not live
in the page of history. How gladly would I have trodden the plain,
there to muse on the legends which in my youth had already awakened
in me such deep and awe-struck interest, and had first aroused the
wish to visit these lands--a desire now partially fulfilled! But we
flew by with relentless rapidity. The whole region is deserted and
bare. It seems as if nature and mankind were mourning together for
the days gone by. The inhabitants may indeed weep, for they will
never again be what they once were.
In the course of the day we passed several islands. In the
foreground towered the peak of the Hydrae, shortly afterwards
Samothrace rose from the waves, and we sailed close by the island of
Tenedos. At first this island does not present a striking
appearance, but after rounding a small promontory we obtained a view
of the fine fortress skirting the sea; it seems to have been built
for the protection of the town beyond.
After passing Tenedos we lost sight of the Greek islands for a short
time (the mainland of Asia can always be distinguished on our left),
but soon afterwards we reached the most beautiful of them all--
Mytelene, which has justly been sung by many poets as the Island of
the Fairies. For seven hours we glided by its coast. It resembles
a garden of olives, orange-trees, pomegranates, etc. The view is
bounded at the back by a double row of peaked mountains, and the
town lies nearly in the midst. It is built in a circular form,
round a hill, strengthened with fortifications. In front the town
is girded by a strong wall, and in the rear extends a deep bay. A
few masts peered forth and shewed us where the bay ended. From this
point we saw numerous villages prettily situated among the luxuriant
shade of large trees. It must be a delightful thing to spend the
spring-time on this island.
I remained on deck till late in the night, so charming, so rich in
varied pictures of verdant isles is this voyage on the AEgaean Sea.
Had I been a magician, I would have fixed the sun in the heavens
until we had arrived at Smyrna. Unfortunately many a beauteous
island which we next morning contemplated ruefully on the map was
hidden from us by the shades of night.
May 19th.
Long before the sun was up, I had resumed my post on deck, to
welcome Smyrna from afar.
A double chain of mountains, rising higher and higher, warned us of
our approach to the rich commercial city. At first we can only
distinguish the ancient dilapidated castle on a rock, then the city
itself, built at the foot of the rock, on the sea-shore; at the back
the view is closed by the "Brother Mountains."
The harbour is very spacious, but has rather the appearance of a
wharf, with room for whole fleets to anchor. Many ships were lying
here, and there was evidently plenty of business going on.
The "Franks' town," which can be distinctly viewed from the steamer,
extends along the harbour, and has a decidedly European air.
Herr von Cramer had been previously apprised of my arrival, and was
obliging enough to come on board to fetch me. We at once rode to
Halizar, the summer residence of many of the citizens, where I was
introduced to my host's family.
Halizar is distant about five English miles from Smyrna. The road
thither is beautiful beyond description, so that one has no time to
think about the distance. Immediately outside the town we pass a
large open place near a river, where the camels rest, and where they
are loaded and unloaded; I saw a whole herd of these animals. Their
Arab or Bedouin drivers were reclining on mats, resting after their
labours, while others were still fully employed about their camels.
It was a truly Arabian picture, and moreover so new to me, that I
involuntarily stopped my long-eared Bucephalus to contemplate it at
my leisure.
Not far from this resting-place is the chief place of rendezvous and
pastime of the citizens. It consists of a coffee-booth and a few
rows of trees, surrounded by numerous gardens, all rich in beautiful
fruit-trees. Charming beyond all the rest, the flower of the
pomegranate-tree shines with the deepest crimson among the green
leaves. Wild oleanders bloomed every where by the roadside. We
wandered through beautiful shrubberies of cypress-trees and olives,
and never yet had I beheld so rich a luxuriance of vegetation. This
valley, with its one side flanked by wild and rugged rocks, in
remarkable contrast to the fruitful landscape around, has a peculiar
effect when viewed from the hill across which we ride. I was also
much amazed by the numerous little troops of from six to ten, or
even twenty camels, which sometimes came towards us with their grave
majestic pace, and were sometimes overtaken by our fleet donkeys.
Surrounded on all sides by objects at once novel and interesting, it
will not be wondered at that I found the time passing far too
rapidly.
The heat is said not to be more oppressive at Smyrna during the
summer than at Constantinople. Spring, however, commences here
earlier, and the autumn is longer. This fact, I thought, accounted
for the lovely vegetation, which was here so much more forward than
at Constantinople.
Herr von Cramer's country-house stands in the midst of a smiling
garden; it is spacious and built of stone. The large and lofty
apartments are flagged with marble or tiles. In the garden I found
the first date-palm, a beautiful tree with a tall slender stem, from
the extremity of which depend leaves five or six feet in length,
forming a magnificent crown. In these regions and also in Syria,
whither my journey afterwards led me, the date-palm does not attain
so great a height as in Egypt, nor does it bear any fruit, but only
stands as a noble ornament beside the pomegranate and orange trees.
My attention was also attracted to numerous kinds of splendid
acacias; some of these grew to an immense size, as high as the
walnut-trees of my own country.
The villas of the townspeople all strongly resemble each other. The
house stands in the midst of the garden, and the whole is surrounded
by a wall.
In the evening I visited some of the peasants, in company with Herr
von C. This gentleman informed me that these people were very poor,
but still I found them decently clad and comfortably lodged in large
roomy dwellings built of stone. Altogether, the condition of
affairs seems here vastly superior to that in Galicia and in Hungary
near the Carpathian mountains.
I reckoned the day I spent with this amiable family among the most
pleasant I had yet passed. How gladly would I have accepted their
hearty invitation to remain several weeks with them! But I had lost
so much time in Constantinople, that on the morning of
May 20th
I was compelled to bid adieu to Frau von C. and her dear children.
Herr von C. escorted me back to Smyrna. We took the opportunity of
roaming through many streets of the Franks' quarter, which I found,
generally speaking, pretty and cheerful enough, and moreover level
and well paved. The handsomest street is that in which the consuls
reside. The houses are finely built of stone, and the halls are
tastefully paved with little coloured pebbles, arranged in the form
of wreaths, stars, and squares. The inhabitants generally take up
their quarters in these entrance-halls during the day, as it is
cooler there than in the rooms. To nearly every house a pretty
garden is attached.
The Turkish town is certainly quite different; it is built of wood,
and is angular and narrow; dogs lie about in the streets, just as at
Brussa and Constantinople. And why should it be otherwise here?
Turks live in all this quarter, and they do not feel the necessity
of clean and airy dwellings like the fastidious Franks.
The bazaars are not roofed; and here also the costlier portion of
the wares is kept under lock and key.
It is well worth the traveller's while to make an excursion to
Burnaba, a place lying on the sea-coast not far from the town, and
serving, like Halizar, as a retreat for the townspeople during the
summer. The views in this direction are various, and the road is
good. The whole appearance of the place is that of a very extended
village, with all its houses standing in the midst of gardens and
surrounded by walls.
From the Acropolis we have a fine view in every direction, and find,
in fact, a union of advantages only met with separately elsewhere.
In Smyrna I found the most beautiful women I had yet seen; and even
during my further journey I met with few who equalled, and none who
surpassed them. These fairy forms are, however, only to be sought
among the Greeks. The natural charms of these Graces are heightened
by the rich costume they wear. They have a peculiarly tasteful
manner of fastening their little round fez-caps, beneath which their
rich hair falls in heavy plaits upon their shoulders, or is wound
with a richly embroidered handkerchief round the head and brow.
Smyrna is, however, not only celebrated as possessing the loveliest
women, but also as the birthplace of one of the greatest men. {85}
O Homer, in the Greece of to-day thou wouldst find no materials for
thine immortal Iliad!
At five o'clock in the afternoon we quitted the harbour of Smyrna.
In this direction the town is seen to much greater advantage after
we have advanced a mile than when we approach it from
Constantinople; for now the Turks' town lies spread in all its
magnitude before us, whereas on the other side it is half hidden by
the Franks' quarter.
The sea ran high, and adverse winds checked the speed of our good
ship; but I am thankful to say that, except when the gale is very
strong, it does not affect my health. I felt perfectly well, and
stood enjoying the aspect of the waves as they came dancing towards
our vessel. In Smyrna our company had been augmented by the arrival
of a few more Franks.
May 21st.
Yesterday evening and all this day we have been sailing among
islands. The principal of these were Scio, Samos, and Cos, and even
these form a desolate picture of bare, inhospitable mountains and
desert regions. On the island of Cos alone we saw a neat town, with
strong fortifications.
May 22d.
This morning, shortly after five o'clock, we ran into the superb
harbour of Rhodes. Here, for the first time, I obtained a correct
notion of a harbour. That of Rhodes is shut in on all sides by
walls and masses of rock, leaving only a gap of a hundred and fifty
to two hundred paces in width for the ships to enter. Here every
vessel can lie in perfect safety, be the sea outside the bar as
stormy as it may; the only drawback is, that the entering of this
harbour, a task of some difficulty in calm weather, becomes totally
impracticable during a storm. A round tower stands as a protection
on either side of the entrance to the harbour. The venerable church
of St. John and the palace of the Komthur can be distinguished
towering high above the houses and fortifications.
Our captain imparted to us the pleasant intelligence that we might
spend the hours between this and three o'clock in the afternoon on
shore. Our ship had for some time lain surrounded by little boats,
and so we lost no time in being conveyed to the land. The first
thing we did on reaching it was to ask questions concerning the
ancient site of the celebrated Colossus. But we could gain no
information, as neither our books nor the people here could point
out the place to us with certainty; so we left the coast, to make up
for the disappointment by exploring the ancient city.
Rhodes is surrounded with three rows of strong fortifications. We
passed over three drawbridges before entering the town. We were
quite surprised to see the beautiful streets, the well-kept houses,
and the excellent pavement. The principal street, containing the
houses of the ancient Knights of St. John, is very broad, with
buildings so massively constructed of stone as almost to resemble
fortresses. Heraldic bearings, with dates carved in stone, grace
many of the Gothic gateways. The French shield, with the three
lilies and the date 1402, occurs most frequently. On the highest
point in the city are built the church of St. John and the house of
the governor.
All the exteriors seem in such good preservation, that one could
almost fancy the knights had only departed to plant their victorious
banner on the Holy Sepulchre. They have in truth departed--departed
to a better home. Centuries have breathed upon their ashes,
scattered in all the regions of the earth. But their deeds have
been chronicled both in heaven and among men, and the heroes still
live in the admiration of posterity.
The churches, the house of the governor, and many other buildings,
are not nearly so well preserved inside as a first glance would lead
us to imagine. The reason of this is that the upper part of the
town is but thinly inhabited. A gloomy air of silence and vacancy
reigns around. We could wander about every where without being
stared at or annoyed by the vulgar and envious. Mr. Bartlett, the
Englishman, made a few sketches in his drawing-book of some of the
chief beauties, such as the Gothic gateways, the windows, balconies,
etc., and no inhabitant came to disturb him.
The pavement in the city, and even in the streets around the
fortifications, consists wholly of handsome slabs of stone, often of
different colours, like mosaic, and in such good preservation that
we could fancy the work had been but recently concluded. This is
certainly partly owing to the fact that no loaded wagon ever crushes
over these stones, for the use of vehicles is entirely unknown in
these parts; every thing is carried by horses, asses, or camels.
Cannons dating from the time of the Genoese still stand upon the
ramparts. The carriages of these guns are very clumsy, the wheels
consisting of round discs without spokes.
From our tower of observation we can form a perfect estimate of the
extent and strength of the fortifications. The city is completely
surrounded by three lofty walls, which seem to have been calculated
to last an eternity, for they still stand almost uninjured in all
their glory. In some places images of the Virgin, of the size of
life, are hewn out of the walls.
The neighbourhood of Rhodes is most charming, and almost resembles a
park. Many country houses lie scattered throughout this natural
garden. The vegetation is here no less luxuriant than in Smyrna.
The architecture of the houses already begins to assume a new
character. Many dwellings have towers attached, and the roofs are
flat, forming numerous terraces, which are all built of stone. Some
streets in the lower part of the town, inhabited chiefly by Jews,
are bordered with cannon-balls, and present a most peculiar
appearance.
I was also much struck with the costumes worn by the country-people,
who were dressed quite in the Swabian fashion. It was in vain that
I inquired the reason of this circumstance. The books we had with
us gave no information on the subject, and I could not ask the
natives through my ignorance of their language.
By three o'clock in the afternoon we were once more on board, and an
hour afterwards we sailed out into the open sea. To-day we saw
nothing further, except a high and lengthened mountain-range on the
Asiatic mainland. It was a branch of the Taurus. The highest peaks
glistened like silver in the evening light, enveloped in a garment
of snow.
May 23d.
To-day our organs of vision had a rest, for we were sailing on the
high seas. Late in the evening, however, the sailors descried the
mountains of Cyprus looming in the far distance like a misty cloud.
With my less practised eyes I could see nothing but the sunset at
sea--a phenomenon of which I had had a more exalted conception. The
rising and setting of the sun at sea is not nearly so striking a
spectacle as the same phenomenon in a rocky landscape. At sea the
sky is generally cloudless in the evening, and the sun gradually
sinks, without refraction of rays or prismatic play of colours, into
its ocean-bed, to pursue its unchanging course the next day. How
infinitely more grand is this spectacle when seen from the "Rigi
Kulm" in Switzerland! There it is really a spectacle, in
contemplating which we feel impelled to fall on our knees in
speechless adoration, and admire the wisdom of the Almighty in his
wondrous works.
May 24th.
On mounting to the deck this morning at five o'clock I could
distinguish the island of Cyprus, which looks uglier the nearer we
approach. Both the foreground and the mountain-peaks have an
uncomfortable barren air. At ten o'clock we entered the harbour of
Larnaka. The situation of this town is any thing but fine; the
country looks like an Arabian desert, and a few unfruitful date-
palms rise beside the roofless stone houses.
I should not have gone on shore at all, if Doctor Faaslanc, whose
acquaintance I had made at Constantinople, and who had been
appointed quarantine physician here four weeks before my departure,
had not come to fetch me. The streets of Larnaka are unpaved, so
that we were obliged literally to wade more than ankle-deep in sand
and dust. The houses are small, with irregular windows, sometimes
high and sometimes low, furnished with wooden grated shutters; and
the roofs are in the form of terraces. This style of building I
found to be universal throughout Syria.
Of a garden or a green place not a trace was to be seen. The sandy
expanse reaches to the foot of the mountains, which viewed from this
direction form an equally barren picture. Behind these mountains
the appearance of the landscape is said to be very fruitful; but I
did not penetrate into the interior, nor did I go to Nikosia, the
capital of the island, distant some twelve miles from Larnaka.
Doctor Faaslanc took me to his house, which had an appearance of
greater comfort than I had expected to find, for it consisted of two
spacious rooms which might almost have been termed halls. An
agreeable coolness reigned every where.
Neither stoves nor chimneys were to be seen, as winter is here
replaced by a very mild rainy season. The heat in summer is often
said to be insupportable, the temperature rising to more than 36
degrees Reaumur. To-day it reached 30 degrees in the sun.
We drank to my safe return to my country, in real old Cyprian wine.
Shall I ever see it again? I hope so, if my journey progresses as
favourably as it has begun. But Syria is a bad country, and the
climate is difficult to bear; yet with courage and perseverance for
my companions, I may look forward to the accomplishment of my task.
The good doctor seemed much annoyed that he had nothing to offer me
but Cyprian wine and a few German biscuits. At this early season
fruit is not to be had, and cherries do not flourish here because
the climate is too hot for them. In Smyrna I ate the last for this
year. When I re-embarked in the afternoon, Mr. Bartlett came with
the English consul, who wished, he said, to make the acquaintance of
a lady possessing sufficient courage to undertake so long and
perilous a journey by herself. His astonishment increased when he
was informed that I was an unpretending native of Vienna. The
consul was kind enough to offer me the use of his house if I
returned by way of Cyprus; he also inquired if he could give me some
letters of recommendation to the Syrian consuls. I was touched by
this hearty politeness on the part of a perfect stranger--an
Englishman moreover, a race on whom we are accustomed to look as
cold and exclusive!
CHAPTER VI.
Arrival at Beyrout--Fellahs--Backsheesh--Uncomfortable quarters--
Saida--Tyre--St. Jean d'Acre--Caesarea--Excursion among the ruins--
Jaffa--An eastern family--The Indian fig-tree--An Oriental dinner--
Costume of the women of Jaffa--Oppressive heat--Gnats--Ramla--Syrian
convents--Bedouins and Arabs--Kariet el Areb, or Emmaus--The
Scheikh--Arrival at Jerusalem.
May 25th.
This morning I could discern the Syrian coast, which becomes more
glorious the nearer we approach. Beyrout, the goal of our voyage,
was jealously hidden from our eyes to the very last moment. We had
still to round a promontory, and then this Eden of the earth lay
before us in all its glory. How gladly would I have retarded the
course of our vessel, as we passed from the last rocky point into
the harbour, to have enjoyed this sight a little longer! One pair
of eyes does not suffice to take in this view; the objects are too
numerous, and the spectator is at a loss whither he should first
direct his gaze,--upon the town, with its many ancient towers
attached to the houses, giving them the air of knights' castles--
upon the numerous country-houses in the shade of luxurious mulberry
plantations--upon the beautiful valley between Beyrout and Mount
Lebanon--or on the distant mountain-range itself. The towering
masses of this magnificent chain, the peculiar colour of its rocks,
and its snowclad summits, riveted my attention longer than any thing
else.
Scarcely had the anchor descended from the bows, before our ship was
besieged by a number of small boats, with more noise and bustle than
even at Constantinople. The half-naked and excitable Arabs or
Fellahs are so ready with offers of service, that it is difficult to
keep them off. It almost becomes necessary to threaten these poor
people with a stick, as they obstinately refuse to take a gentler
hint. As the water is here very shallow, so that even the little
boats cannot come quite close to shore, some others of these brown
forms immediately approached, seized us by the arms, took us upon
their backs amidst continual shouting and quarrelling, and carried
us triumphantly to land.
Before the stranger puts himself into the hands of men of this kind,
such as captains of small craft, donkey-drivers, porters, etc., he
will find it a very wise precaution to settle the price he is to pay
for their services. I generally spoke to the captain, or to some
old stager among the passengers, on this subject. Even when I gave
these people double their usual price, they were not contented, but
demanded an additional backsheesh (gratuity). It is therefore
advisable to make the first offer very small, and to retain
something for the backsheesh. At length I safely reached the house
of Herr Battista (the only inn in the place), and was rejoicing in
the prospect of rest and refreshment, when the dismal cry of "no
room" was raised. I was thus placed in a deplorable position.
There was no second inn, no convent, no place of any kind, where I,
poor desolate creature that I was, could find shelter. This
circumstance worked so much on the host's feelings, that he
introduced me to his wife, and promised to procure me a private
lodging.
I had now certainly a roof above my head, but yet I could get no
rest, nor even command a corner where I might change my dress. I
sat with my hostess from eleven in the morning until five in the
afternoon, and a miserably long time it appeared. I could not read,
write, or even talk, for neither my hostess nor her children knew
any language but Arabic. I had, however, time to notice what was
going on around me, and observed that these children were much more
lively than those in Constantinople, for here they were continually
chattering and running about. According to the custom of the
country, the wife does nothing but play with the children or gossip
with the neighbours, while her husband attends to kitchen and
cellar, makes all the requisite purchases, and besides attending to
the guests, even lays the tablecloth for his wife and children. He
told me that in a week at furthest, his wife would go with the
children to a convent on the Lebanon, to remain there during the hot
season of the year. What a difference between an Oriental and a
European woman!
I still found the heat at sea far from unendurable; a soft wind
continually wafted its cooling influence towards us, and an awning
had been spread out to shelter us from the rays of the sun. But
what a contrast when we come to land! As I sat in the room here the
perspiration dropped continually from my brow, and now I began to
understand what is meant by being in the tropics. I could scarcely
await the hour when I should be shewn to a room to change my
clothes; but to-day I was not to have an opportunity of doing so,
for at five o'clock a messenger came from Mr. Bartlett with the
welcome intelligence that we could continue our journey, as nothing
was to be feared from the Druses and Maronites, and the plague only
reigned in isolated places through which it was not necessary that
we should pass. He had already engaged a servant who would act as
cook and dragoman (interpreter); provisions and cooking utensils had
also been bought, and places were engaged on an Arab craft.
Nothing, therefore, remained for me to do but to be on the sea-shore
by six o'clock, where his servant would be waiting for me. I was
much rejoiced on hearing this good news: I forgot that I required
rest and a change of clothes, packed up my bundle, and hurried to
the beach. Of the town I only saw a few streets, where there was a
great bustle. I also noticed many swarthy Arabs and Bedouins, who
wore nothing but a shirt. I did not feel particularly anxious to
see Beyrout and its vicinity, as I intended to return soon and visit
any part I could not examine now.
Before sunset we had already embarked on board the craft that was to
carry us to the long-wished-for, the sacred coast of Joppa. Every
thing was in readiness, and we lacked only the one thing
indispensable--a breeze.
No steamers sail between Joppa and Beyrout; travellers must be
content with sailing vessels, deficient alike as regards cleanliness
and convenience; they are not provided with a cabin, or even with an
awning, so that the passengers remain day and night under the open
sky. Our vessel carried a cargo of pottery, besides rice and corn
in sacks.
Midnight approached, and still we were in harbour, with not a breath
of wind to fill our sails.
Wrapping my cloak tightly round me, I lay down on the sacks, in the
absence of a mattress; but I was not yet sufficiently tired out to
be able to find rest on such an unusual couch. So I rose again in
rather a bad humour, and looked with an evil eye on the Arabs lying
on the sacks around me, who were not "slumbering softly," but
snoring lustily. By way of forcing myself, if possible, into a
poetical train of thought, I endeavoured to concentrate my attention
on the contemplation of the beautiful landscape by moonlight; but
even this would not keep me from yawning. My companion seemed much
in the same mood; for he had also risen from his _soft_ couch, and
was staring gloomingly straight before him. At length, towards
three o'clock in the morning of
May 26th,
a slight breath of wind arose, we hoisted two or three sails, and
glided slowly and noiselessly towards the sea.
Mr. B. had bargained with the captain to keep as close to the shore
as possible, in order that we might see the towns as we passed.
Excepting in Caesarea, it was forbidden to cast anchor any where,
for the plague was raging at Sur (Tyre) and in several other places.
Bargains of this kind must be taken down in writing at the
consulates, and only one-half of the sum agreed should be paid in
advance; the other half must be kept in hand, to operate as a check
on the crew. After every precaution has been taken, one can seldom
escape without some bickering and quarrelling. On these occasions
it is always advisable at once to take high ground, and not to give
way in the most trifling particular, for this is the only method of
gaining peace and quietness.
Towards seven o'clock in the morning we sailed by the town and
fortress of Saida. The town looks respectable enough, and contains
some spacious houses. The fortress is separated from the town by a
small bay, across which a wooden bridge has been built. The
fortress seems in a very dilapidated condition; many breaches are
still in the same state in which they were left after the taking of
the town by the English in 1840, and part of the wall has fallen
into the sea. In the background we could descry some ruins on a
rock, apparently the remains of an ancient castle.
The next place we saw was Sarepta, where Elijah the prophet was fed
by the poor widow during the famine.
The Lebanon range becomes lower and lower, while its namesake, the
Anti-Lebanon, begins to rise. It is quite as lofty as the first-
named range, which it closely resembles in form. Both are traversed
by fields of snow, and between them stands a third colossus, Mount
Hermon.
Next came the town of Tyre or Sur, now barren and deserted; for that
mighty scourge of humanity, the plague, was raging there to a
fearful extent. A few scattered fragments of fortifications and
numerous fallen pillars lie strewed on the shore.
And now at length I was about to see places which many have longed
to behold, but which few have reached. With a beating heart I gazed
unceasingly towards St. Jean d'Acre, which I at length saw rising
from the waves, with Mount Carmel in the background. Here, then,
was the holy ground on which the Redeemer walked for us fallen
creatures! Both St. Jean d'Acre and Mount Carmel can be
distinguished a long distance off.
For a second time did a mild and calm night sink gently on the earth
without bringing me repose. How unlucky it is that we find it so
much harder to miss comforts we have been used to enjoy, than to
acquire the habit of using comforts to which we have been
unaccustomed! Were this not the case, how much easier would
travelling be! As it is, it costs us many an effort ere we can look
hardships boldly in the face. "But patience!" thought I to myself;
"I shall have more to endure yet; and if I return safely, I shall be
as thoroughly case-hardened as any native."
Our meals and our beverage were very simple. In the morning we had
pilau, and in the evening we had pilau; our drink was lukewarm
water, qualified with a little rum.
From Beyrout to the neighbourhood of St. Jean d'Acre, the coast and
a considerable belt of land adjoining it are sandy and barren. Near
Acre every thing changed; we once more beheld pretty country-houses
surrounded by pomegranate and orange plantations, and a noble
aqueduct intersects the plain. Mount Carmel, alone barren and
unfruitful, stands in striking contrast to the beauteous landscape
around; jutting boldly out towards the sea, it forms the site of a
handsome and spacious convent.
The town of St. Jean d'Acre and its fortifications were completely
destroyed during the last war (in 1840), and appear to sigh in vain
for repairs. The houses and mosques are full of cannon-balls and
shot-holes. Every thing stands and lies about as though the enemy
had departed but yesterday. Six cannons peer threateningly from the
wall. The town and fortifications are both built on a tongue of
land washed by the sea.
May 27th.
During the night we reached Caesarea. With the eloquence of a
Demosthenes, our captain endeavoured to dissuade us from our project
of landing here; he pointed out to us the dangers to which we were
exposing ourselves, and the risks we should run from Bedouins and
snakes. The former, he averred, were accustomed to conceal
themselves in hordes among the ruins, in order to ease travellers of
their effects and money; being well aware that such spots were only
visited by curious tourists with well-filled purses, they were
continually on the watch, like the robber-knights of the good old
German empire. "An enemy no less formidable," said the captain,
"was to be encountered in the persons of numerous snakes lurking in
the old walls and on the weed-covered ground, which endangered the
life of the traveller at every step." We were perfectly well aware
of these facts, having gleaned them partly from descriptions of
voyages, partly from oral traditions; and so they were not powerful
enough to arrest our curiosity. The captain himself was really less
actuated by the sense of our danger, in advising us to abandon our
undertaking, than by the reflection of the time it lost him; but he
exerted himself in vain. He was obliged to cast anchor, and at
daybreak to send a boat ashore with us.
Our arms consisted of parasols and sticks (the latter we carried in
order to beat the bushes); we were escorted by the captain, his
servant, and a couple of sailors.
In the ruins we certainly met with a few suspicious-looking
characters in the shape of wandering Bedouins. As it was too late
to beat a retreat, we advanced bravely towards them with trusting
and friendly looks. The Bedouins did the same, and so there was an
end of this dangerous affair. We climbed from one fragment to
another, and certainly spent more than two hours among the ruins,
without sustaining the slightest injury at the hands of these
people. Of the threatened snakes we saw not a single one.
Ruins, indeed, we found every where in plenty. Whole side-walls,
which appeared to have belonged to private houses, but not to
splendid palaces or temples, stood erect and almost unscathed.
Fragments of pillars lay scattered about in great abundance, but
without capitals, pedestals, or friezes.
It was with a feeling of awe hitherto unknown to me that I trod the
ground where my Redeemer had walked. Every spot, every building
became invested with a double interest. "Perchance," I thought, "I
may be lingering within the very house where Jesus once sojourned."
More than satisfied with my excursion, I returned to our bark.
By three o'clock in the afternoon we were close under the walls of
Joppa. To enter this harbour, partially choked up as it is with
sand, is described as a difficult feat. We were assured that we
should see many wrecks of stranded ships and boats; accordingly I
strained my eyes to the utmost, and could discover nothing. We ran
safely in; and thus ended a little journey in the course of which I
had seen many new and interesting objects, besides gaining some
insight into the mode of life among the sailors. Frequently, when
it fell calm, our Arabs would recline on the ground in a circle,
singing songs of an inconceivably inharmonious and lugubrious
character, while they clapped their hands in cadence, and burst at
intervals into a barking laugh. I could not find any thing very
amusing in this entertainment; on the contrary, it had the effect of
making me feel very melancholy, as displaying these good people in a
very idiotic and degrading light.
The costume of the sailors was simple in the extreme. A shirt
covered them in rather an imperfect manner, and a handkerchief bound
round their heads protected them from a coup de soleil. The captain
was distinguished from the rest only by his turban, which looked
ridiculous enough, surmounting his half-clad form. Their diet
consisted of a single warm meal of pilau or beans, eaten in the
evening. During the day they stayed their appetites with bread.
Their drink was water.
The town of Joppa, extending from the sea-shore to the summit of a
rather considerable and completely isolated hill, has a most
peculiar appearance. The lower street is surrounded by a wall, and
appears sufficiently broad; the remaining streets run up the face of
the hills, and seem at a distance to be resting on the houses below.
Viewing the town from our boat, I could have sworn that people were
walking about on flat house-tops.
As Joppa boasts neither an inn nor a convent which might shelter a
traveller, I waited upon the Consul of the Austrian Empire, Herr D---,
who received me very kindly and introduced me to his family,
which comprised his lady, three sons, and three daughters. They
wore the Turkish costume. The daughters, two of whom were
exceedingly beautiful, wore wide trousers, a caftan, and a sash
round the waist. On their heads they had little fez-caps, and their
hair was divided into fifteen or twenty narrow plaits, interwoven
with little gold coins, and a larger one at the end of each plait.
A necklace of gold coins encircled their necks. The mother was
dressed in exactly the same way. When elderly women have little or
no hair left, they make up with artificial silk plaits for the
deficiencies of nature.
The custom of wearing coins as ornaments is so prevalent throughout
Syria, that the very poorest women, girls, and children strive to
display as many as possible. Where they cannot sport gold, they
content themselves with silver money; and where even this metal is
not attainable, with little coins of copper and other baser metals.
The Consul and his son were also clothed in the Turkish garb; but
instead of a turban the father wore an old cocked hat, which gave
him an indescribably ludicrous appearance. A son and a daughter of
this worthy patron of the semi-Turkish, semi-European garb, had but
one eye, a defect frequently met with in Syria. It is generally
supposed to be caused by the dry heat, the fine particles of sand,
and the intense glare of the chalky hills.
As I reached Joppa early in the afternoon, I proceeded in company of
the Consul to view the town and its environs. In dirt, bad paving,
etc., I found it equal to any of the towns I had yet seen. The
lower street, near the sea, alone is broad and bustling, with loaded
and unloaded camels passing continually to and fro. The bazaar is
composed of some miserable booths containing common provisions and a
few cheap wares.
The neighbourhood of Joppa is exceedingly fertile. Numerous large
gardens, with trees laden with all kinds of tropical fruits, and
guarded by impenetrable hedges of the Indian fig-tree, form a half-
circle round the lower portion of the town.
The Indian fig-tree, which I here saw for the first time, has an odd
appearance. From its stem, which is very dwarfish, leaves a foot in
length, six inches in breadth, and half an inch in thickness, shoot
forth. This tree seldom sends forth branches; the leaves grow one
out of another, and at the extremity the fruit is formed. Its
length is about two or three inches. Ten or twenty such figs are
frequently found adhering to a single leaf.
I could not conceive how it happened that in these hot countries,
without rain to refresh them, the trees all looked so healthy and
beautiful. This fact, I found, was owing to the numerous channels
cut through the gardens, which are thus artificially irrigated. The
heavy dews and cool nights also tend to restore the drooping
vegetation. One great ornament of our gardens was, however, totally
wanting--a lawn with wild flowers. Trees and vegetables here grow
out of the sandy or stony earth, a circumstance hardly noticed at a
distance, but which produces a disagreeable effect on a near view.
Flowers I found none.
The whole region round Joppa is so covered with sand, that one sinks
ankle-deep at every step.
Consul D--- fulfils the duties of two consulates, the Austrian and
the French. From both these offices he derives no benefit but the
honour. By some people this honour would be highly valued, but many
would rate it at nothing at all. This family, however, seems to
have a great idea of honour; for the consul's office is hereditary,
and I found the son of the present dignitary already looking forward
to filling his place.
In the evening I was present at a real Oriental entertainment in the
house of this friendly family.
Mats, carpets, and pillows were spread out on the terrace of the
house, and a very low table placed in the centre. Round this the
family sat, or rather reclined, cross-legged. I was accommodated
with a chair somewhat higher than the table. Beside my plate and
that of the Consul were laid a knife and fork, that appeared to have
been hunted out from some lumber closet; the rest ate with a species
of natural knife and fork, namely--fingers.
The dishes were not at all to my taste. I had still too much of the
European about me, and too little appetite, to be able to endure
what these good people seemed to consider immense delicacies.
The first dish appeared in the form of a delicate pilau, composed of
mutton, cucumbers, and a quantity of spice, which rendered it more
unpalatable to me than common pilau. Then followed sliced cucumbers
sprinkled with salt; but as the chief ingredients, vinegar and oil,
were entirely wanting, I was obliged to force down the cucumber as
best I could. Next came rice-milk, so strongly flavoured with attar
of roses, that the smell alone was more than enough for me; and now
at length the last course was put on the table--stale cheese made of
ewe's milk, little unpeeled girkins, which my entertainers coolly
discussed rind and all, and burnt hazel-nuts. The bread, which is
flat like pancakes, is not baked in ovens, but laid on metal plates
or hot stones, and turned when one side is sufficiently done. It
tastes better than I should have expected. {101}
Our conversation during dinner was most interesting. Some of the
family spoke a little Italian, but this little was pronounced with
such a strong Greek accent, that I was obliged to guess at the
greater portion of what was said. No doubt they had to do the same
with me. The worthy Consul, indeed, affirmed that he knew French
very well; but for this evening at least, his memory seemed to have
given him the slip. Much was spoken, and little understood. The
same thing is said often to be the case in learned societies; so it
was not of much consequence.
There are many different kinds of cucumber in Syria, where they are
a favourite dish with rich and poor. I found numerous varieties,
but none that I found superior to our German one. Another favourite
fruit is the water-melon, here called "bastek." These also I found
neither larger in size nor better flavoured than the melons I had
eaten in southern Hungary.
The Consul's house seems sufficiently large; but the architectural
arrangement is so irregular that the extended area contains but few
rooms and very little comfort. The apartments are lofty and large,
extremely ill-furnished, and not kept in the best possible order.
I slept in the apartment of the married daughter; but had it not
been for the beds standing round, I should rather have looked upon
it as an old store-closet than a lady's sleeping-room.
May 28th.
At five o'clock in the morning Mr. Bartlett's servant came to fetch
me away, as we were at once to continue our journey. I betook
myself to the house of the English Consul, where I found neither a
horse nor any thing else prepared for our departure. It is
necessary to look calmly upon these irregularities here in the East,
where it is esteemed a fortunate occurrence if the horses and mukers
(as the drivers of horses and donkeys are called) are only a few
hours behind their time. Thus our horses made their appearance at
half-past five instead of at four, the hour for which they had been
ordered. Our baggage was soon securely fixed, for we left the
greater portion of our effects at Joppa, and took with us only what
was indispensably necessary.
As the clock struck six we rode out of the gate of Joppa, and
immediately afterwards reached a large well with a marble basin.
Near places of this description a great number of people are always
congregated, and more women and girls are seen than appear
elsewhere.
The dress of females belonging to the lower orders consists of a
long blue garment fastened round the throat, and reaching below the
ankle. They completely cover the head and face, frequently without
even leaving openings for the eyes. Some females, on the other
hand, go abroad with their faces totally uncovered. These are,
however, exceptional cases.
The women carry their water-pitchers on their head or shoulder, as
their ancestors have done for thousands of years, in the manner we
find represented in the oldest pictures. But unfortunately I could
discover neither the grace in their gait, the dignity in their
movements, nor the physical beauty in their appearance, that I had
been led to expect. On the contrary, I found squalor and poverty
more prevalent than I had thought possible. We rode on amid the
gardens, every moment meeting a little caravan of camels.
Immediately beyond the gardens we descry the fruitful valley of
Sharon, extending more than eight miles in length, and to a still
greater distance in breadth. Here and there we find villages built
on hills, and the whole presents the appearance of an extremely
fertile and well-populated region. In all directions we saw large
herds of sheep and goats; the latter generally of a black or brown
colour, with long pendent ears.
The foreground of the picture is formed by the Judaean mountains, a
range apparently composed of a number of barren rocks.
A ride of two hours through this plain, which is less sandy than the
immediate neighbourhood of Joppa, brought us to a mosque, where we
made halt for a quarter of an hour and ate our breakfast, consisting
of some hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bread, and a draught of
lukewarm water from the cistern. Our poor beasts fared even worse
than ourselves--they received nothing but water.
On leaving this place to resume our journey across the plain, we not
only suffered dreadfully from the heat, which had reached 30 degrees
Reaumur, but were further persecuted by a species of minute gnats,
which hovered round us in large swarms, crept into our noses and
ears, and annoyed us in such a manner that it required the utmost of
our patience and determination to prevent us from turning back at
once. Fortunately we only met with these tormentors in those parts
where the corn had been cut and was still in the fields. They are
not much larger than a pin's head, and look more like flies than
gnats. They are always met with in great swarms, and sting so
sharply that they frequently raise large boils.
The vegetation was at this season already in so forward a state that
we frequently passed stubble-fields, and found that the wheat had in
several cases been already garnered up. Throughout the whole of
Syria, and in that part of Egypt whither my journey afterwards led
me, I never once saw corn or vegetables, wood or stores, carried in
wagons; they were invariably borne by horses or asses. In Syria I
could understand the reason of this proceeding. With the exception,
perhaps, of the eight or ten miles across the valley of Sharon, the
road is too stony and uneven to admit the passage of the lightest
and smallest carts. In Egypt, however, this is not the case, and
yet wagons have not been introduced.
A most comical effect was produced when we met long processions of
small donkeys, so completely laden with corn, that neither their
heads nor their feet remained visible. The sheaves seemed to be
moving spontaneously, or to be propelled by the power of steam.
Frequently after a train of this kind has passed, lofty grey heads
appear, surrounded by a load piled up to so great a height, that one
would suppose large corn-wagons were approaching rather than the
"ship of the desert," the camel. The traveller's attention is
continually attracted to some novel and curious object totally
dissimilar to any thing he has seen at home.
Towards ten o'clock we arrived at Ramla, a place situate on a little
hill, and discernible from a great distance. Before reaching the
town, we had to pass through an olive-wood. Leaving our horses
beneath a shady tree, we entered the coppice on the right: a walk
of about a quarter of a mile brought us to the "Tower of the Forty
Martyrs," which was converted into a church during the time of the
Knights Templars, and now serves as a dwelling for dervishes. It is
a complete ruin, and I could scarcely believe that it was still
habitable.
We made no stay at Ramda, a place only remarkable for a convent
built, it is said, on the site of Joseph of Arimathea's house.
The Syrian convents are built more like fortresses than like
peaceful dwellings. They are usually surrounded by strong and lofty
walls, furnished with loopholes for cannon. The great gate is kept
continually closed, and barred and bolted from within for greater
security; a little postern is opened to admit visitors, but even
this is only done in time of peace, and when there is no fear of the
plague.
At length, towards noon, we approached the mountains of Judaea.
Here we must bid farewell to the beautiful fruitful valley and to
the charming road, and pursue our journey through a stony region,
which we do not pass without difficulty.
At the entrance of the mountain-chain lies a miserable village; near
this village is a well, and here we halted to refresh ourselves and
water our poor horses. It was not without a great deal of trouble
and some expense that we managed to obtain a little water; for all
the camels, asses, goats, and sheep from far and wide were collected
here, eagerly licking up every drop of the refreshing element they
could secure. Little did I think that I should ever be glad to
quench my thirst with so disgusting a beverage as the muddy, turbid,
and lukewarm water they gave me from this well. We once more filled
our leathern bottles, and proceeded with fresh courage up the stony
path, which quickly became so narrow, that without great difficulty
and danger we could not pass the camels which we frequently met.
Fortunately a few camels out of every herd are generally provided
with bells, so that their approach is heard at some distance, and
one can prepare for them accordingly.
The Bedouins and Arabs generally wear no garment but a shirt barely
reaching to the knee. Their head is protected by a linen cloth, to
which a thick rope wound twice round the head gives a very good
effect. A few have a striped jacket over their shirt, and the rich
men or chiefs frequently wear turbans.
Our road now continues to wind upwards, through ravines between
rocks and mountains, and over heaps of stones. Here and there
single olive-trees are seen sprouting from the rocky clefts. Ugly
as this tree is, it still forms a cheerful feature in the desert
places where it grows. Now and then we climbed hills whence we had
a distant view of the sea. These glimpses increase the awe which
inspires the traveller when he considers on what ground he is
wandering, and whither he is bending his steps. Every step we now
take leads us past places of religious importance; every ruin, every
fragment of a fortress or tower, above which the rocky walls rise
like terraces, speaks of eventful times long gone by.
An uninterrupted ride of five hours over very bad roads, from the
entrance of the mountain-range, added to the extreme heat and total
want of proper refreshment, suddenly brought on such a violent
giddiness that I could scarcely keep myself from falling off my
horse. Although we had been on horseback for eleven hours since
leaving Joppa, I was so much afraid that Mr. B. would consider me
weak and ailing, and perhaps change his intention of accompanying me
from Jerusalem back to Joppa, that I refrained from acquainting him
with the condition in which I felt myself. I therefore dismounted
(had I not done so, I should soon have fallen down), and walked with
tottering steps beside my horse, until I felt so far recovered that
I could mount once more. Mr. B. had determined to perform the
distance from Joppa to Jerusalem (a sixteen hours' ride) at one
stretch. He indeed asked me if I could bear so much fatigue; but I
was unwilling to abuse his kindness, and therefore assured him that
I could manage to ride on for five or six hours longer. Fortunately
for my reputation, my companion was soon afterwards attacked with
the same symptoms that troubled me so much; he now began to think
that it might, after all, be advisable to rest for a few hours in
the next village, especially as we could not hope in any case to
reach the gates of Jerusalem before sundown. I felt silently
thankful for this opportune occurrence, and left the question of
going on or stopping altogether to the decision of my fellow-
traveller, particularly as I knew the course he would choose. Thus
I accomplished my object without being obliged to confess my
weakness. In pursuance of this resolve, we stayed in the
neighbouring village of "Kariet el Areb," the ancient Emmaus, where
the risen Saviour met the disciples, and where we find a ruin of a
Christian church in a tolerable state of preservation. The building
is now used as a stable. Some years ago this was the haunt of a
famous robber, who was scheikh of the place, and let no Frank pass
before he had paid whatever tribute he chose to demand. Since the
accession of Mehemet Ali these exactions have ceased both here and
in Jerusalem, where money was demanded of the stranger for admission
into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and other sacred places. Even
highway robberies, which were once on a time of daily occurrence
among these mountains, are now rarely heard of.
We took possession of the entrance-hall of a mosque, near which a
delicious spring sparkled forth from a grotto. Seldom has any thing
strengthened and refreshed me so much as the water of this spring.
I recovered completely from my indisposition, and was able to enjoy
the beautiful evening.
As soon as the scheikh of the village heard that a party of Franks
had arrived, he despatched four or five dishes of provisions to us.
Of all these preparations we could only eat one--the butter-milk.
The other dishes, a mixture of honey, cucumbers, hard-boiled eggs,
onions, oil, olives, etc., we generously bestowed upon the dragoman
and the muker, who caused them quickly to disappear. An hour
afterwards the scheikh came in person to pay his respects. We
reclined on the steps of the hall; and while the men smoked and
drank coffee, a conversation of a very uninteresting kind was kept
up, the dragoman acting as interpreter. At length the scheikh
seemed seized with the idea that we might possibly be tired with our
journey. He took his leave, and offered unasked to send us two men
as sentries, which he did. Thus we could go to rest in perfect
safety under the open sky in the midst of a Turkish village.
But before we retired to rest, my companion was seized with the
rather original idea that we should pursue our journey at midnight.
He asked me, indeed, if I was afraid, but at the same time observed,
that it would be much safer for us to act upon his suggestion, as no
one would suspect our departure by such a dangerous road at
midnight. I certainly felt a little afraid, but my pride would not
allow me to confess the truth; so our people received the order to
be prepared to set out at midnight.
Thus we four persons, alone and totally unarmed, travelled at
midnight through the wildest and most dangerous regions.
Fortunately the bright moon looked smilingly down upon us, and
illuminated our path so brightly, that the horses carried us with
firm step over every obstruction. I was, I must confess, grievously
frightened by the shadows! I saw living things moving to and fro--
forms gigantic and forms dwarfish seemed sometimes approaching us,
sometimes hiding behind masses of rock, or sinking back into
nothingness. Lights and shadows, fears and anxiety, thus took
alternate possession of my imagination.
A couple of miles from our starting-place we came upon a brook
crossed by a narrow stone bridge. This brook is remarkable only as
having been that from which David collected the five stones
wherewith he slew the Philistine giant. At the season of my visit
there was no water to be seen; the bed of the stream was completely
dry.
About an hour's journey from Jerusalem the valley opens, and little
orchards give indication of a more fertile country, as well as of
the proximity of the Holy City. Silently and thoughtfully we
approached our destination, straining our eyes to the utmost to
pierce the jealous twilight that shrouded the distance from our
gaze. From the next hill we hoped to behold our sacred goal; but
"hope deferred" is often the lot of mortals. We had to ascend
another height, and another; at length the Mount of Olives lay
spread before us, and lastly JERUSALEM.
CHAPTER VII.
Residence at Jerusalem--Catholic church--The "Nuova Casa"--Via
Dolorosa--Pilate's house--The Mosque Omar--Herod's house--Church of
the Holy Sepulchre--Disturbances at the Greek Easter feasts--Knights
of the Holy Sepulchre--Mount of Olives--Adventure among the ruin--
Mount of Offence--Valley of Jehosaphat--Siloam--Mount Sion--
Jeremiah's grotto--Graves.
The red morning dawn had began to tinge the sky as we stood before
the walls of Jerusalem, and with it the most beauteous morning of my
life dawned upon me! I was so lost in reflection and in thankful
emotion, that I saw and heard nothing of what was passing around me.
And yet I should find it impossible to describe what I thought, what
I felt. My emotion was deep and powerful; my expression of it would
be poor and cold.
At half past four o'clock in the morning of the 29th May we arrived
at the "Bethlehem Gate." We were obliged to wait half an hour
before this gate was opened; then we rode through the still silent
and deserted streets of the Nuova Casa (Pilgrim-house), a building
devoted by the Franciscan friars to the reception of rich and poor
Roman Catholics and Protestants.
I left my baggage in the room allotted to me, and hastened into the
church, to lighten the weight on my heart by fervent prayer. The
entrance into the church looks like the door of a private house; the
building is small, but still sufficiently large for the Roman
Catholic congregation. The altar is richly furnished, and the organ
is a very bad one. The male and female portions of the congregation
are separated from each other, the young as well as the old, and all
sit or kneel on the ground. Chairs there are none in this church.
The costume of the Christians is precisely the same as that of the
Syrians. The women wear boots of yellow morocco, and over these
slippers, which they take off on entering the church. In the street
their faces are completely, in the church only partially, muffled,
and the faces of the girls not at all. Their dress consists of a
white linen gown, and a large shawl of the same material, which
completely envelops them. They were all cleanly and neatly dressed.
The amount of devotion manifested by these people is very small; the
most trifling circumstance suffices to distract their attention.
For instance, my appearance seemed to create quite a sensation among
them, and they made their remarks upon me to one another so openly
both by words and gestures, that I found it quite impossible to give
my mind to seriousness and devotion. Some of them pushed purposely
against me, and put out their hands to grasp my bonnet, etc. They
conversed together a good deal, and prayed very little. The
children behaved no better; these little people ate their breakfast
while the service was going on, and occasionally jostled each other,
probably to keep themselves awake. The good people here must fancy
they are doing a meritorious work by passing two or three hours in
the church; no one seems to care _how_ this time is spent, or they
would assuredly have been taught better.
I had been in the church rather more than an hour when a clergyman
stepped up to me and accosted me in my native language. He was a
German, and, in fact, an Austrian. He promised to visit me in the
course of a few hours. I returned to the Nuova Casa, and now, for
the first time, had leisure to examine my apartment. The
arrangement was simple in the extreme. An iron bedstead, with a
mattress, coverlet, and bolster, a very dingy table, with two
chairs, a small bench, and a cupboard, all of deal, composed the
whole furniture. These chattels, and also the windows, some panes
of which were broken, may once, in very ancient times, have been
clean. The walls were of plaster, and the floor was paved with
large slabs of stone. Chimneys are no more to be found in this
country. I did not see any until my return to Sicily.
I now laid myself down for a couple of hours to get a little rest;
for during my journey hither from Constantinople I had scarcely
slept at all.
At eleven o'clock the German priest, Father Paul, visited me, in
order to explain the domestic arrangements to me. Dinner is eaten
at twelve o'clock, and supper at seven. At breakfast we get coffee
without sugar or milk; for dinner, mutton-broth, a piece of roast
kid, pastry prepared with oil or a dish of cucumbers, and, as a
concluding course, roast or spiced mutton. Twice in the week,
namely on Fridays and Saturdays, we have fast-day fare; but if the
feast of a particular saint falls during the week, a thing that
frequently occurs, we hold three fast-days, the one of the saint's
day being kept as a time of abstinence. The fare on fast-days
consists of a dish of lentils, an omelette, and two dishes of salt
fish, one hot and the other cold. Bread and wine, as also these
provisions, are doled out in sufficient quantities. But every thing
is very indifferently cooked, and it takes a long time for a
stranger to accustom himself to the ever-recurring dishes of mutton.
In Syria oxen and calves are not killed during the summer season; so
that from the 19th of May until my journey to Egypt in the beginning
of September, I could get neither beef-soup nor beef.
In this convent no charge is made either for board or lodging, and
every visitor may stay there for a whole month. At most it is
customary to give a voluntary subscription towards the masses; but
no one asks if a traveller has given much, little, or nothing at
all, or whether he is a Roman Catholic, a Protestant, or a votary of
any other religion. In this respect the Franciscan order is much to
be commended. The priests are mostly Spaniards and Italians; very
few of them belong to other nations.
Father Paul was kind enough to offer his services as my guide, and
to-day I visited several of the holy places in company with him.
We began with the Via Dolorosa, the road which our Lord is said to
have trodden when for the last time he wandered as God-man on earth,
bowed down by the weight of the cross, on his way to Golgotha. The
spots where Christ sank exhausted are marked by fragments of the
pillars which St. Helena caused to be attached to the houses on
either side of the way. Further on we reach the "Zwerchgasse," the
place whither the Virgin Mary is said to have come in haste to see
her beloved Son for the last time.
Next we visited Pilate's house, which is partly a ruin, the
remaining portion serving as a barrack for Turkish soldiers. I was
shewn the spot where the "holy stairs" stood, up which our Lord is
said to have walked. On my return, I saw these stairs in the church
of S. Giovanni di Laterani. They also pretend to show the place
where the Saviour was brought out before the multitude by Pilate. A
little distance off, in the midst of a dark vault, they shew the
traveller the stone to which Jesus was bound when "they scourged
Him."
We ascended the highest terrace of this house, as this spot affords
the best view of the magnificent mosque of Omar, standing in a large
courtyard. With this exterior view the traveller is fain to be
content; for the Turks are here much more fanatical than those in
Constantinople and many other towns, so that an attempt to penetrate
even into the courtyard would be unsuccessful; the intruder would
run the risk of being assailed with a shower of stones. But in
proportion as the Turks are strict in the observance of their own
ceremonies and customs, so they respect those Christians who are
religious and devotional.
Every Christian can go with perfect impunity to pray at all the
places which are sacred in his eyes, without fear of being taunted
or annoyed by the Turkish passers-by. On the contrary, the
Mussulman steps respectfully aside; for even he venerates the
Saviour as a great prophet, and the Virgin as his mother.
Not far from Pilate's house stands the building designated as that
of Herod; it is, however, a complete ruin. The house of the rich
man, at whose gate the beggar Lazarus lay, has shared the same fate;
but from the ruins one may conclude how magnificent the building
must originally have been.
In the house of Saint Veronica a stone is pointed out on which they
shew you a footprint of the Saviour. In another house two
footprints of the Virgin Mary are exhibited. Father Paul also drew
my attention to the houses which stood on the spot where Mary
Magdalene and the other Mary were born. These houses are all
inhabited by Turks, but any one may obtain admittance upon payment
of a small fee.
The following day I visited the church of the Holy Sepulchre. The
way lies through several narrow and dirty streets. In the lanes
near the church are booths like those at Maria Zell in Steiermark,
and many other places of pilgrimage, where they sell wreaths of
roses, shells of mother-of-pearl, crucifixes, etc. The open space
before the church is neat enough. Opposite lies the finest house in
Jerusalem, its terraces gay with flowers.
Visitors to this church will do wisely to provide themselves with a
sufficient number of para, as they may expect to be surrounded by a
goodly tribe of beggars. The church is always locked; the key is in
the custody of some Turks, who open the sacred edifice when asked to
do so. It is customary to give them three or four piastres for
their pains, with which sum they are satisfied, and remain at the
entrance during the whole time the stranger is in the church,
reclining on divans, drinking coffee and smoking tobacco. At the
entrance of the church we noticed a long square stone on the ground;
this is the "stone of anointing."
In the centre of the nave a little chapel has been built; it is
divided into two parts. In the first of these compartments is a
stone slab encased in marble. This is vehemently asserted to be the
identical stone on which the angel sat when he announced our Lord's
resurrection to the women who came to embalm his body. In the
second compartment, which is of the same size as the first, stands
the sarcophagus or tomb of the Saviour, of white marble. The
approach is by such a low door that one has to stoop exceedingly in
order to enter. The tomb occupies the whole length of the chapel,
and answers the purpose of an altar. We could not look into the
sarcophagus. The illumination of this chapel is very grand both by
night and day; forty-seven lamps are kept continually burning above
the grave. The portion of the chapel containing the tomb is so
small, that when the priest reads mass only two or three people have
room to stand and listen. The chapel is entirely built of marble,
and belongs to the Roman Catholics; but the Greeks have the right of
celebrating mass alternately with them.
At the farther end of the chapel the Copts have a little mean-
looking altar of wood, surrounded by walls of lath. All round the
chapel are niches belonging to the different religious sects.
In this church I was also shewn the subterranean niche in which
Jesus is said to have been a prisoner; also the niche where the
soldiers cast lots for our Saviour's garments, and the chapel
containing the grave of St. Nicodemus. Not far from this chapel is
the little Roman Catholic church. A flight of twenty-seven steps
leads downwards to the chapel of St. Helena, where the holy woman
sat continually and prayed, while she caused search to be made for
the true cross. A few steps more lead us down to the spot where the
cross was found. A marble slab points out the place.
Mounting the steps once more, we come to the niche containing the
pillar to which Jesus was bound when they crowned him with thorns.
It is called the pillar of scorn. The pillar at which Jesus was
scourged, a piece of which is preserved in Rome, is also shown.
The chapel belonging to the Greeks is very spacious, and may almost
be termed a church within a church. It is beautifully decorated.
It is very difficult to find the way in this church, which resembles
a labyrinth. Now we are obliged to ascend a flight of stairs, now
again to descend. The architect certainly deserves great praise for
having managed so cleverly to unite all these holy places under one
roof; and St. Helena has performed a most meritorious action in thus
rescuing from oblivion the sacred sites in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and
Nazareth.
I was told, that when the Greeks celebrate their Easter here, the
ceremonies seldom conclude without much quarrelling and confusion.
These irregularities are considerably increased when the Greek
Easter happens to fall at the same time as that of the Roman
Catholics. On these occasions, there are not only numerous broken
heads, but some of the combatants are even frequently carried away
dead. The Turks generally find it necessary to interfere, to
restore peace and order among the Christians. What opinion can
these nations, whom we call Infidels, have of us Christians, when
they see with what hatred and virulence each sect of Christians
pursues the other? When will this dishonourable bigotry cease?
On the third day after my arrival at Jerusalem, a small caravan of
six or seven travellers, two gentlemen namely, and their attendants,
applied for admittance at our convent. An arrival of this kind,
particularly if the new-comers are Franks, is far too important to
admit of our delaying the inquiry from what country the wanderers
have arrived. How agreeably was I surprised, when Father Paul came
to me with the intelligence that these gentlemen were both Austrian
subjects. What a singular coincidence! So far from my native
country, I was thus suddenly placed in the midst of my own people.
Father Paul was a native of Vienna, and the two counts, Berchtold
and Salm Reifferscheit, were Bohemian cavaliers.
As soon as I had completely recovered from the fatigues of my
journey, and had collected my thoughts, I passed a whole night in
the church of the Holy Sepulchre. I confessed in the afternoon, and
afterwards joined the procession, which at four o'clock visits all
the places rendered sacred by our Saviour's passion; I carried a wax
taper, the remains of which I afterwards took back with me into my
native country, as a lasting memorial. This ceremony ended, the
priests retired to their cells, and the few people who were present
left the church. I alone stayed behind, as I intended to remain
there all night. A solemn stillness reigned throughout the church;
and now I was enabled to visit, uninterrupted and alone, all the
sacred places, and to give myself wholly up to my meditations.
Truly these were the most blissful hours of my life; and he who has
lived to enjoy such hours has lived long enough.
A place near the organ was pointed out to me where I might enjoy a
few hours of repose. An old Spanish woman, who lives like a nun,
acts as guide to those who pass a night in the church.
At midnight the different services begin. The Greeks and Armenians
beat and hammer upon pendent plates or rods of metal; the Roman
Catholics play on the organ, and sing and pray aloud; while the
priests of other religions likewise sing and shout. A great and
inharmonious din is thus caused. I must confess that this midnight
mass did not produce upon me the effect I had anticipated. The
constant noise and multifarious ceremonies are calculated rather to
disconcert than to inspire the stranger. I much preferred the peace
and repose that reigned around, after the service had concluded, to
all the pomp and circumstance attending it.
Accompanied by my Spanish guide, I ascended to the Roman Catholics'
choir, where prayers were said aloud from midnight until one
o'clock. At four o'clock in the morning I heard several masses, and
received the Eucharist. At eight o'clock the Turks opened the door
at my request, and I went home.
The few Roman Catholic priests who live in the church of the Holy
Sepulchre stay there for three months at a time, to perform the
services. During this time they are not allowed to quit the church
or the convent for a single instant. After the three months have
elapsed, they are relieved by other priests.
On the 10th of June I was present at the ceremony of admission into
the Order of the Holy Sepulchre. Counts Zichy, Wratislaw, and Salm
Reifferscheit were, at their own request, installed as knights of
the Sepulchre. The inauguration took place in the chapel.
The chief priest having taken his seat on a chair of state, the
candidate for knighthood knelt before him, and took the customary
oaths to defend the holy church, to protect widows and orphans, etc.
During this time the priests who stood round said prayers. Now one
of the spurs of Godfrey de Bouillon was fastened on the heel of the
knight; the sword of this hero was put into his hands, the sheath
fastened to his side, and a cross with a heavy gold chain, that had
also belonged to Godfrey de Bouillon, was put round his neck. Then
the kneeling man received the stroke of knighthood on his head and
shoulders, the priests embraced the newly-elected knight, and the
ceremony was over.
A plentiful feast, given by the new-chosen knights, concluded the
solemnity.
Distant somewhat less than a mile from Jerusalem is the Mount of
Olives. Emerging from St. Stephen's Gate, we pass the Turkish
burial-ground, and reach the spot where St. Stephen was stoned. Not
far off we see the bed of the brook Cedron, which is at this season
of the year completely dried up. A stone bridge leads across the
brook; adjoining it is a stone slab where they shew traces of the
footsteps of the Saviour, as He was brought across this bridge from
Gethsemane, and stumbled and fell. Crossing this bridge, we arrive
at the grotto where Jesus sweat blood. This grotto still retains
its original form. A plain wooden altar has been erected there, a
few years since, by a Bavarian prince, and the entrance is closed by
an iron gate. Not far off is Gethsemane. Eight olive-trees are
here to be seen that have attained a great age; nowhere else had I
seen these trees with such massive trunks, though I had frequently
passed through whole plantations of olives. Those who are learned
in natural history assert that the olive-tree cannot live to so
great an age as to render it possible that these venerable trunks
existed at the time when Jesus passed his last night at Gethsemane
in prayer and supplication. As this tree, however, propagates
itself, these trees may be sprouts from the ancient stems. The
space around the roots has been strengthened with masonry, to afford
a support to these patriarchal trunks, and the eight trees are
surrounded by a wall three or four feet in height. No layman may
enter this spot unaccompanied by a priest, on pain of
excommunication; it is also forbidden to pluck a single leaf. The
Turks also hold these trees in reverence, and would not injure one
of them.
Close by is the spot where the three disciples are said to have
slept during the night of their Master's agony. We were shown marks
on two rocks, said to have been footsteps of these apostles! The
footsteps of the third disciple we could not discover. A little to
one side is the place where Judas betrayed his Master.
The little church containing the grave of the Virgin Mary stands
near the "Grotto of Anguish." We descend by a broad marble flight
of fifty steps to the tomb, which is also used as an altar. About
the middle of the staircase are two niches with altars; within these
are deposited the bones of the Virgin Mary's parents and of St.
Joseph. This chapel belongs to the Greeks.
From the foot of the Mount of Olives to its summit is a walk of
three quarters of an hour. The whole mountain is desert and
sterile; nothing is found growing upon it but olives; and from the
summit of this mountain our Saviour ascended into heaven. The spot
was once marked by a church, which was afterwards replaced by a
mosque: even this building is now in ruins. Only twelve years ago
a little chapel, of very humble appearance, was erected here; it now
stands in the midst of old walls; but here again a footprint of our
Lord is shown and reverenced. On this stone it is asserted that He
stood before He was taken up into heaven. Not far off, we are shown
the place where the fig-tree grew that Jesus cursed, and the field
where Judas hanged himself.
One afternoon I visited many of these sites, in company with Count
Berchtold. As we were climbing about the ruins near the mosque, a
sturdy goatherd, armed with a formidable bludgeon, came before us,
and demanded "backsheesh" (a gift, or an alms) in a very peremptory
tone. Neither of us liked to take out our purse, for, fear the
insolent beggar should snatch it from our hands; so we gave him
nothing. Upon this he seized the Count by the arm, and shouted out
something in Arabic which we could not understand, though we could
guess pretty accurately what he meant. The Count disengaged his
arm, and we proceeded almost to push and wrestle our way into the
open field, which was luckily only a few paces off. By good
fortune, also, several people appeared near us, upon seeing whom the
fellow retired. This incident convinced us of the fact that Franks
should not leave the city unattended.
As the Mount of Olives is the highest point in the neighbourhood of
Jerusalem, it commands the best view of the town and its environs.
The city is large, and lies spread over a considerable area. The
number of inhabitants is estimated at 25,000. As in the remaining
cities of Syria, the houses here are built of stone, and frequently
adorned with round cupolas. Jerusalem is surrounded by a very lofty
and well-preserved wall, the lower portion composed of such massive
blocks of stone, that one might imagine these huge fragments date
from the period of the city's capture by Titus. Of the mosques,
that of Omar, with its lead-covered roof, has the best appearance;
it lies in an immense courtyard, which is neatly kept. This mosque
is said to occupy the site of Solomon's temple.
From the Mount of Olives we can plainly distinguish all the
convents, and the different quarters of the Catholics, Armenians,
Jews, Greeks, etc. The "Mount of Offence" (so called on account of
Solomon's idolatry) rises at the side of the Mount of Olives, and is
of no great elevation. Of the temple, and the buildings which
Solomon caused to be erected for his wives, but few fragments of
walls remain. I had also been told, that the Jordan and the Dead
Sea might be seen from this mountain; but I could distinguish
neither, probably on account of a mist which obscured the horizon.
At the foot of the Mount of Olives lies the valley of Jehosaphat.
The length of this valley does not certainly exceed three miles;
neither is it remarkable for its breadth. The brook Cedron
intersects this valley; but it only contains water during the rainy
season; at other times all trace of it is lost.
The town of Jerusalem is rather bustling, particularly the poor-
looking bazaar and the Jews' quarter; the latter portion of the city
is very densely populated, and exhales an odour offensive beyond
description; and here the plague always seizes its first victims.
The Greek convent is not only very handsome, but of great extent.
Hither most of the pilgrims flock, at Easter-time to the number of
five or six thousand. Then they are all herded together, and every
place is crowded with occupants; even the courtyard and terraces are
full. This convent is the richest of all, because every pilgrim
received here has to pay an exorbitant price for the very worst
accommodation. It is said that the poorest seldom escape for less
than four hundred piastres.
Handsomest of all is the Armenian convent; standing in the midst of
gardens, it has a most cheerful appearance. It is asserted to be
built on the site where St. James was decapitated, an event
commemorated by numerous pictures in the church; but most of the
pictures, both here and in the remaining churches, are bad beyond
conception. Like the Greeks, the Armenian priests enjoy the
reputation of thoroughly understanding how to make a harvest out of
their visitors, whom they are said generally to send away with empty
pockets. As an amends, however, they offer them a great quantity of
_spiritual_ food.
In the valley of Jehosaphat we find many tombs of ancient and modern
date. The most ancient among these tombs is that of Absolom; a
little temple of pieces of rock, but without an entrance. The
second is the tomb of Zacharias, also hewn out of the rock, and
divided within into two compartments. The third belongs to King
Jehosaphat, and is small and unimportant; one might almost call it a
mere block of stone. There are many more tombs cut out of the rock.
From this place we reach the Jewish burial-ground.
The little village of Sila also lies in this valley. It is so
humble, and all its houses (which are constructed of stone) are so
small, that wandering continually among tombs, the traveller would
rather take them to be ruined resting-places of the dead than
habitations of the living.
Opposite this village lies "Mary's Well," so called because the
Virgin Mary fetched water here every day. The inhabitants of Siloam
follow her example to this day. A little farther on is the pool of
Siloam, where our Lord healed the man who was born blind. This pool
is said to possess the remarkable property, that the water
disappears and returns several times in the course of twenty-four
hours.
At the extremity of the valley of Jehosaphat a small hill rises like
a keystone; in this hill are several grottoes, formed either by
nature or art, which also once served as sepulchres. They are
called the "rock-graves." At present the greater portion of them
are converted into stables, and are in so filthy a state that it is
impossible to enter them. I peeped into one or two, and saw nothing
but a cavern divided into two parts. At the summit of these rock-
graves lies the "Field of Blood," bought by the priests for the
thirty pieces of silver which Judas cast down in the temple.
In the neighbourhood of the Field of Blood rises the hill of Sion.
Here, it is said, stood the house of Caiaphas the high-priest,
whither our Lord was brought a prisoner. A little Armenian church
now occupies the supposed site. The tomb of David, also situated on
this hill, has been converted into a mosque, in which we are shewn
the place where the Son of Man ate the last Passover with His
disciples.
The burial-grounds of the Roman Catholics, Armenians, and Greeks
surround this hill.
The "Hill of Bad Counsel," so called because it is said that here
the judges determined to crucify Christ, rises in the immediate
vicinity of Mount Sion. A few traces of the ruins of Caiaphas'
house are yet visible.
The "Grotto of Jeremiah" lies beyond the "Gate of Damascus," in
front of which we found, near a cistern, an elaborately-sculptured
sarcophagus, which is used as a water-trough. This grotto is larger
than any I have yet mentioned. At the entrance stands a great
stone, called Jeremiah's bed, because the prophet is said generally
to have slept upon it. Two miles farther on we come to the graves
of the judges and the kings. We descend an open pit, three or four
fathoms deep, forming the courtyard. This pit is a square about
seventy feet long and as many wide. On one side of this open space
we enter a large hall, its broad portal ornamented with beautiful
sculpture, in the form of flowers, fruit, and arabesques. This hall
leads to the graves, which run round it, and consist of niches hewn
in the rock, just sufficiently large to contain a sarcophagus. Most
of these niches were choked up with rubbish, but into some we could
still see; they were all exactly alike. These long, narrow, rock-
hewn graves reminded me exactly of those I had seen in a vault at
Gran, in Hungary. I could almost have supposed the architect at
Gran had taken the graves of the valley of Jehosaphat for his model.
CHAPTER VIII.
Bethlehem--Rachel's grave--Convent at Bethlehem--Beggars--Grotto of
the Nativity--Solomon's cisterns--St. John's--Franciscan church at
Jerusalem--Mourning women--Eastern weddings--Mish-mish--Excursion to
the Jordan and the Dead Sea--Wilderness near Jerusalem--Convent of
St. Saba.
On the 2d of June I rode, in the company of Counts Berchtold and
Salm Reifferscheit and Pater Paul, to Bethlehem. Although, on
account of the bad roads, we are obliged to ride nearly the whole
distance at a foot-pace, it does not take more than an hour and a
half to accomplish the journey. The view we enjoy during this
excursion is as grand as it is peculiar. So far as the eye can
reach, it rests upon stone; the ground is entirely composed of
stones; and yet between the rocky interstices grow fruit-trees of
all kinds, and grape-vines trail along, besides fields whose
productions force their way upwards from the shingly soil.
I had already wondered when I saw the "Karst," near Trieste, and the
desert region of Gorz; but these sink into insignificance when
compared to the scenery of the Judean mountains.
It is difficult to conceive how these regions can ever have been
smiling and fertile. Doubtless they have appeared to better
advantage than at the present period, when the poor inhabitants are
ground to the bone by their pachas and officers; but I do not think
that meadows and woods can ever have existed here to any extent.
On the way we pass a well, surrounded by blocks of stone. At this
well the wise men from the East rested, and here the guiding star
appeared to them. Midway between Jerusalem and Bethlehem lies the
Greek convent dedicated to the prophet Elijah. From hence we can
see both towns; on the one hand, the spacious Jerusalem, and on the
other, the humble Bethlehem, with some small villages scattered
round it. On the right hand we pass "Rachel's grave," a ruined
building with a small cupola.
Bethlehem lies on a hill, surrounded by several others; with the
exception of the convent, it contains not a single handsome
building. The inhabitants, half of whom are Catholics, muster about
2500 strong; many live in grottoes and semi-subterranean domiciles,
cutting out garlands and other devices in mother-of pearl, etc. The
number of houses does not exceed a hundred at the most, and the
poverty here seems excessive, for nowhere have I been so much
pestered with beggar children as in this town. Hardly has the
stranger reached the convent-gates before these urchins are seen
rapidly approaching from all quarters. One rushes forward to hold
the horse, while a second grasps the stirrup; a third and a fourth
present their arm to help you to dismount; and in the end the whole
swarm unanimously stretch forth their hands for "backsheesh." In
cases like these it is quite necessary to come furnished either with
a multiplicity of small coins or with a riding-whip, in order to be
delivered in one way or another from the horrible importunity of the
diminutive mob. It is very fortunate that the horses here are
perfectly accustomed to such scenes; were this not the case, they
would take fright and gallop headlong away.
The little convent and church are both situated near the town, and
are built on the spot where the Saviour was born. The whole is
surrounded by a strong fortress-wall, a very low, narrow gate
forming the entrance. In front of this fortress extends a handsome
well-paved area. So soon as we have passed through the little gate,
we find ourselves in the courtyard, or rather in the nave of the
church, which is unfortunately more than half destroyed, but must
once have been eminent both for its size and beauty. Some traces of
mosaic can still be detected on the walls. Two rows of high
handsome pillars, forty-eight in number, intersect the interior; and
the beam-work, said to be of cedar-wood from Lebanon, looks almost
new. Beneath the high altar of this great church is the grotto in
which Christ was born. Two staircases lead downwards to it. One of
the staircases belongs to the Armenians, the other to the Greeks;
the Catholics have none at all. Both the walls and the floor are
covered with marble slabs. A marble tablet, with the inscription,
"HIC DE VIRGINE MARIA JESUS CHRISTUS NATUS EST,"
marks the spot whence the true Light shone abroad over the world. A
figure of a beaming sun, which receives its light from numerous
lamps kept continually burning, is placed in the back-ground of this
tablet.
The spot where our Saviour was shewn to the worshipping Magi is but
few paces distant. An altar is erected opposite, on the place where
the manger stood in which the shepherds found our Lord. The manger
itself is deposited in the basilica Santa Maria Maggiore, in Rome.
This altar belongs to the Roman Catholics. A little door, quite in
the background of the grotto, leads to a subterranean passage
communicating with the convent and the Catholic chapel. In this
passage another altar has been erected to the memory of the
innocents slaughtered and buried here. Proceeding along the passage
we come upon the grave of St. Paula and her daughter Eustachia on
one side, and that of St. Hieronymus on the other. The body of the
latter is, however, deposited at Rome.
Like the church of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, this great
church at Bethlehem belongs at once to the Catholics, the Armenians,
and the Greeks. Each of these sects has built for itself a little
convent adjoining the church.
After spending at least a couple of hours here, we rode two miles
farther, towards Mount Hebron. At the foot of this mountain we
turned off to the left towards the three cisterns of Solomon. These
reservoirs are very wide and deep, hewn out of the rock, and still
partially covered with a kind of cement resembling marble in its
consistency and polish. We descended into the third of these
cisterns; it was about five hundred paces long, four hundred broad,
and a hundred deep.
Not one of these cisterns now contains water; the aqueducts which
once communicated with them have entirely vanished. A single
rivulet, across which one may easily step, flows beside these giant
reservoirs. The region around is barren in the extreme.
On returning to our convent at about two o'clock to partake of our
frugal but welcome meal, we were surprised to find that another
party of travellers, Franks like ourselves, had arrived. The new-
comers proved to be Count Zichy and Count Wratislaw, who had
travelled from Vienna to Cairo in company with Counts Berchtold and
Salm Reifferscheit. At the last-mentioned place the voyagers parted
company, one party proceeding to Jerusalem by way of Alexandria,
Damietta, and Joppa, while the other bent their course across the
burning sands of Africa towards Mount Sinai, and thence continued
their journey to Jerusalem by land. Here at length they had the
pleasure of meeting once more. A great and general rejoicing, in
which we all joined, was the consequence of this event.
After dinner we once more visited all the holy places in company of
the new-comers; we afterwards went to the so-called "Milk Grotto,"
distant about half a mile from our convent. In this grotto there is
nothing to be seen but a simple altar, before which lights are
continually burning. It is not locked, and every passer-by is at
liberty to enter. This place is held sacred not only by the
Christians, but also by the Turks, who bring many a cruise of oil to
fill the lamps after they have cleaned them. In this grotto the
Holy Family concealed themselves before the flight into Egypt, and
the Virgin for a long time nourished the infant Jesus with her milk,
from which circumstance the grotto derives its name. The women in
the neighbourhood believe that if they feel unwell during the time
they are nursing their children, they have merely to scrape some of
the sand from the rocks in this grotto, and to take it as a powder,
to regain their health.
Half a mile from this grotto we were shown the field in which the
angel appeared to announce the birth of the Redeemer to the
shepherds. But our newly-arrived friends were not able to visit
this spot. They were fain to content themselves with a distant
view, as it was high time to think of our return.
ST. JOHN'S.
On the 4th of June I rode out, accompanied by a guide, to the birth-
place of St. John the Baptist, distant about four miles from
Jerusalem. The way to this convent lies through the Bethlehem Gate,
opposite the convent of the "Holy Cross," a building supposed to
stand on the site where the wood was felled for our Saviour's cross!
Not far off, the place was pointed out to me where a battle was
fought between the Israelites and the Philistines, and where David
slew Goliath.
Situated in a rocky valley, the convent of St. John is, like all the
monasteries in these lands, surrounded by very strong walls. The
church of the convent is erected on the spot where the house of
Zacharias once stood, and a chapel commemorates the place where St.
John first beheld the light. The ascent to this chapel is by a
staircase, where a round tablet of stone bears the inscription,
"HIC PRAECURSOR DOMINI CHRISTI NATUS EST."
Many events of the prophet's life are here portrayed by sculptures
in white marble.
About a mile from the convent we find the "Grotto of Visitation,"
where St. Mary met St. Elizabeth. The remains of the latter are
interred here.
On the very first day of my arrival at Jerusalem I had made some
observations, during a visit to the church of St. Francis, which
gave me any thing but a high opinion of the behaviour of the
Catholics here. This unfavourable impression was confirmed by
subsequent visits to the church, so that at length I felt obliged to
tell Father Paul that I would rather pray at home than among people
who seemed to attend to any thing rather than their devotions. My
Frankish costume seemed to be such a stumbling-block in the eyes of
these people, that at length a priest came to me, and requested that
I would make an alteration in my dress, or at any rate exchange my
straw hat for a veil, in which I could muffle my head and face. I
promised to discard the obnoxious hat and to wear a handkerchief
round my head when I attended church, but refused to muffle my face,
and begged the reverend gentleman to inform my fellow-worshippers
that this was the first time such a thing had been required of a
Frankish woman, and that I thought they would be more profitably
employed in looking at their prayer-books than at me, for that He
whom we go to church to adore is not a respecter of outward things.
In spite of this remonstrance, their behaviour remained the same, so
that I was compelled almost to discontinue attending public worship.
On great festival-days the high altar of the church of St. Francis
is very profusely decorated. It is, in fact, almost overloaded with
ornament, and sparkles and glitters with a most dazzling brilliancy.
Innumerable candles display the lustre of gold and precious stones.
Foremost among the costly ornaments appear a huge gold monstrance
presented by the king of Naples, and two splendid candelabra, a gift
of the imperial house of Austria.
I happened one day to pass a house, from within which a great
screaming was to be heard. On inquiring of my companion what was
the matter, I was informed that some person had died in that house
the day before, and that the sound I heard was the wail of the
"mourning women." I requested admission to the room where the
deceased lay. Had it not been for the circumstance that a few
pictures of saints and a crucifix decorated the walls, I could never
have imagined that the dead man was a Catholic. Several "mourning
women" sat near the corpse, uttering every now and then such frantic
yells, that the neighbourhood rang with their din. In the intervals
between these demonstrations they sat comfortably regaling
themselves with coffee; after a little time they would again raise
their horrible cry. I had seen enough to feel excessively
disgusted, and so went away.
I was also fortunate enough to visit a newly-married pair. The
bride was gorgeously dressed in a silk under-garment, wide trousers
of peach-blossom satin, and a caftan of the same material; a rich
shawl encircled her waist, and on her feet she wore boots of yellow
morocco leather; the slippers had been left, according to the
Turkish fashion, at the entrance of the chamber. An ornamental
head-dress of rich gold brocade and fresh flowers completed the
bride's attire; her hair, arranged in a number of thin plaits and
decorated with coins, fell down upon her shoulders, and on her neck
glittered several rows of ducats and larger gold pieces.
Costumes of this kind are only seen in the family circle, and on the
occasion of some great event. Seldom or never are strange men
allowed to behold the ladies in their gorgeous apparel; so that it
is fruitless to expect to see picturesque female costumes in the
public places of the East.
After the marriage ceremony, which is always performed during the
forenoon, the young wife is compelled to sit for the remainder of
the day in a corner of the room with her face turned towards the
wall. She is not allowed to answer any question put by her husband,
her parents, or by any one whatever; still less is she permitted to
offer a remark herself. This silence is intended to typify the
bride's sorrow at changing her condition.
During my visit, the bridegroom sat next to his bride, vainly
endeavouring to lure a few words from her. On my rising to depart,
the young wife inclined her head towards me, but without raising her
eyes from the ground.
In Jerusalem, almost all the women and girls wear veils when they go
abroad. It was only in church, and in their own houses, that I had
an opportunity of fairly seeing these houris. Among the girls I
found many an interesting head; but the women who have attained the
age of twenty-six or twenty-eight years already look worn and ugly;
so that here, as in all tropical countries, we behold a great number
of very plain faces, among which handsome ones shine forth at long
intervals, like meteors. Thin people are rarely met with in Syria;
on the contrary, even the young girls are frequently decidedly
stout.
Not far from the bazaar is a great hall, wherein the Turks hold
their judicial sittings, decide disputes, and pass sentence on
criminals. Some ordinary-looking divans are placed round the
interior of this hall, and in one corner a wooden cell, about ten
feet long, six wide, and eight feet high, has been erected. This
cell, furnished with a little door, and a grated hole by way of
window, is intended for the reception of the criminal during his
period of punishment.
Throughout the thirteen days I passed at Jerusalem, I did not find
the heat excessive. The thermometer generally stood in the shade at
from 20 to 22 degrees, and in the sun at 28 degrees (Reaum.), very
seldom reaching 30 degrees.
Fruit I saw none, with the exception of the little apricots called
mish-mish, which are not larger than a walnut, but nevertheless have
a very fine flavour. It is a pity that the inhabitants of these
countries contribute absolutely nothing towards the cultivation and
improvement of their natural productions; if they would but exert
themselves, many a plant would doubtless flourish luxuriantly. But
here the people do not even know how to turn those gifts to
advantage which nature has bestowed upon them in rich profusion, and
of superior quality; for instance, olives. Worse oil can hardly be
procured than that which they give you in Syria. The Syrian oil and
olives can scarcely be used by Europeans. The oil is of a perfectly
green colour, thick, and disgusting alike to the smell and taste;
the olives are generally black, a consequence of the negligent
manner in which they are prepared. The same remark holds good with
regard to the wine, which would be of excellent quality if the
people did but understand the proper method of preparing it, and of
cultivating the vineyards. At present, however, they adulterate
their wine with a kind of herb, which gives it a very sharp and
disagreeable taste.
On the whole, the neighbourhood of Jerusalem is very desolate,
barren, and sterile. I found the town itself neither more nor less
animated than most Syrian cities. I should depart from truth if I
were to say, with many travellers, that it appeared as though a
peculiar curse rested upon this city. The whole of Judea is a stony
country, and this region contains many places with environs as
rugged and barren as those of Jerusalem.
Birds and butterflies are rarely seen at the present season of the
year, not only in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, but throughout the
whole of Syria. Where, indeed, could a butterfly or a bee find
nourishment, while not a flower nor a blade of grass shoots up from
the stony earth? And a bird cannot live where there are neither
seeds nor insects, but must soar away across the seas to cooler and
more fertile climes. Not only here, but throughout the whole of
Syria, I missed the delightful minstrels of the air. The sparrow
alone can find sustenance every where, for he lives in towns and
villages, wherever man is seen. A whole flock of these little
twittering birds woke me every morning.
I was as yet much less troubled by insects than I had anticipated.
With the exception of the small flies on the plain of Sharon, and of
certain little sable jumpers which seem naturalised throughout the
whole world, I could not complain of having been annoyed by any
creature.
Our common house-flies I saw every where; but they were not more
numerous or more troublesome than in Germany.
EXCURSION TO THE RIVER JORDAN AND TO THE DEAD SEA.
To travel with any degree of security in Palestine, Phoenicia, etc.,
it is necessary to go in large companies, and in some places it even
becomes advisable to have an escort. The stranger should further be
provided with cooking utensils, provisions, tents, and servants. To
provide all these things would have been a hopeless task for me; I
had therefore resolved to return from Jerusalem as I had come,
namely, via Joppa, and so to proceed to Alexandria or Beyrout, when,
luckily for me, the gentlemen whom I have already mentioned arrived
at Jerusalem. They intended making several excursions by land, and
the first of these was to be a trip to the banks of the Jordan and
to the Dead Sea.
I ardently wished to visit these places, and therefore begged the
gentlemen, through Father Paul, to permit my accompanying them on
their arduous journey. The gentlemen were of opinion that their
proposed tour would be too fatiguing for one of my sex, and seemed
disinclined to accede to my request. But then Count Wratislaw took
my part, and said that he had watched me during our ride from
Bethlehem to Jerusalem, and had noticed that I wanted neither
courage, skill, nor endurance, so that they might safely take me
with them. Father Paul immediately came to me with the joyful
intelligence that I was to go, and that I had nothing to do but to
provide myself with a horse. He particularly mentioned how kindly
Count Wratislaw, to whom I still feel obliged, had interested
himself in my behalf.
The journey to the Jordan and the Dead Sea should never be
undertaken by a small party. The best and safest course is to send
for some Arab or Bedouin chiefs, either at Jerusalem or Bethlehem,
and to make a contract with them for protection. In consideration
of a certain tribute, these chiefs accompany you in person, with
some of their tribe, to your place of destination and back again.
The Counts paid the two chiefs three hundred piastres, with the
travelling expenses for themselves and their twelve men.
At three o'clock in the afternoon of the 7th of June our cavalcade
started. The caravan consisted of the four counts, Mr. Bartlett, a
certain Baron Wrede, two doctors, and myself, besides five or six
servants, and the two chiefs with the body-guard of twelve Arabs.
All were strongly armed with guns, pistols, swords, and lances, and
we really looked as though we sallied forth with the intention of
having a sharp skirmish.
Our way lay through the Via Dolorosa, and through St. Stephen's
Gate, past the Mount of Olives, over hill and dale. Every where the
scene was alike barren. At first we still saw many fruit-trees and
olive-trees in bloom, and even vines, but of flowers or grass there
was not a trace; the trees, however, stood green and fresh, in spite
of the heat of the atmosphere and the total lack of rain. This
luxuriance may partly be owing to the coolness and dampness which
reigns during the night in tropical countries, quickening and
renewing the whole face of nature.
The goal of our journey for to-day lay about eight miles distant
from Jerusalem. It was the Greek convent of "St. Saba in the
Waste." The appellation already indicates that the region around
becomes more and more sterile, until at length not a single tree or
shrub can be detected. Throughout the whole expanse not the
lowliest human habitation was to be seen. We only passed a horde of
Bedouins, who had erected their sooty-black tents in the dry bed of
a river. A few goats, horses, and asses climbed about the
declivities, laboriously searching for herbs or roots.
About half an hour before we reach the convent we enter upon the
wilderness in which our Saviour fasted forty days, and was
afterwards "tempted of the devil." Vegetation here entirely ceases;
not a shrub nor a root appears; and the bed of the brook Cedron is
completely dry. This river only flows during the rainy season, at
which period it runs through a deep ravine. Majestic rocky
terraces, piled one above the other by nature with such exquisite
symmetry that the beholder gazes in silent wonder, overhang both
banks of the stream in the form of galleries.
A silence of death brooded over the whole landscape, broken only by
the footfalls of our horses echoing sullenly from the rocks, among
which the poor animals struggled heavily forward. At intervals some
little birds fluttered above our heads, silently and fearfully, as
though they had lost their way. At length we turn sharply round an
angle of the road,--and what a surprise awaits us! A large handsome
building, surrounded by a very strong fortified wall, pierced for
cannon in several places, lies spread before us near the bed of the
river, and rises in the form of terraces towards the brow of the
hill. From the position we occupied, we could see over the whole
extent of wall from without and from within. Fortified as it was,
it lay open before our gaze. Several buildings, and in front of all
a church with a small cupola, told us plainly that St. Saba lay
stretched below.
On the farther bank, seven or eight hundred paces from the convent,
rose a single square tower, apparently of great strength. I little
thought that I should soon become much better acquainted with this
isolated building.
The priests had observed our procession winding down the hill, and
at the first knocking the gate was opened. Masters, servants,
Arabs, and Bedouins, all passed through; but when my turn came, the
cry was, "Shut the gate!" and I was shut out, with the prospect of
passing the night in the open air,--a thing which would have been
rather disagreeable, considering how unsafe the neighbourhood was.
At length, however, a lay brother appeared, and, pointing to the
tower, gave me to understand that I should be lodged there. He
procured a ladder from the convent, and went with me to the tower,
where we mounted by its aid to a little low doorway of iron. My
conductor pushed this open, and we crept in. The interior of the
tower seemed spacious enough. A wooden staircase led us farther
upwards to two tiny rooms, situated about the centre of the tower.
One of these apartments, dimly lighted by the rays of a lamp,
contained a small altar, and served as a chapel, while the second
was used as a sleeping-room for female pilgrims. A wooden divan was
the only piece of furniture this room contained. My conductor now
took his leave, promising to return in a short time with some
provisions, a bolster, and a coverlet for me.
So now I was at least sheltered for the night, and guarded like a
captive princess by bolt and bar. I could not even have fled had I
wished to do so, for my leader had locked the creaking door behind
him, and taken away the ladder. After carefully examining the
chapel and my neatly-furnished apartment in this dreary prison-
house, I mounted the staircase, and gained the summit of the tower.
Here I had a splendid view of the country round about, my elevated
position enabling me distinctly to trace the greater part of the
desert, with its several rows of hills and mountains skirting the
horizon. All these hills were alike barren and naked; not a tree
nor a shrub, not a human habitation, could I discover. Silence lay
heavily on every thing around, and it seemed to me almost as though
no earth might here nourish a green tree, but that the place was
ordained to remain a desert, as a lasting memorial of our Saviour's
fasting. Unheeded by human eye, the sun sank beneath the mountains;
I was, perhaps, the only mortal here who was watching its beautiful
declining tints. Deeply moved by the scene around me, I fell on my
knees, to offer up my prayers and praise to the Almighty, here in
the rugged grandeur of the desert.
But I had only to turn away from the death-like silence, and to cast
my eye towards the convent as it lay spread out before me, to view
once more the bustle and turmoil of life. In the courtyard the
Bedouins and Arabs were employed in ministering to the wants of
their horses, bringing them water and food; beyond these a group of
men was seen spreading mats on the ground, while others, with their
faces bowed to the earth, were adoring, with other forms of prayer,
the Omnipotent Spirit whose protection I had so lately invoked;
others, again, were washing their hands and feet as a preparation
for offering up their worship; priests and lay brethren passed
hastily across the courtyard, busied in preparations for
entertaining and lodging the numerous guests; while some of my
fellow-travellers stood apart, in earnest conversation, and Mr. B.
and Count Salm Reifferscheit reclined in a quiet spot and made
sketches of the convent. Had a painter been standing on my tower,
what a picture of the building might he not have drawn as the wild
Arab and the thievish Bedouin leant quietly beside the peaceful
priest and the curious European! Many a pleasant recollection of
this evening have I borne away with me.
I was very unwilling to leave the battlements of the tower; but the
increasing darkness at length drove me back into my chamber.
Shortly afterwards a priest and a lay brother appeared, and with
them Mr. Bartlett. The priest's errand was to bring me my supper
and bedding, and my English fellow-traveller had kindly come to
inquire if I would have a few servants as a guard, as it must be
rather a dreary thing to pass a night quite alone in that solitary
tower. I was much flattered by Mr. Bartlett's politeness to a total
stranger, but, summoning all my courage, replied that I was not in
the least afraid. Thereupon they all took their leave; I heard the
door creak, the bolt was drawn, and the ladder removed, and I was
left to my meditations for the night.
After a good night's rest, I rose with the sun, and had been waiting
some time before my warder appeared with the coffee for my
breakfast. He afterwards accompanied me to the convent gate, where
my companions greeted me with high praises; some of them even
confessed that they would not like to pass a solitary night as I had
done.
CHAPTER IX.
Ride through the wilderness to the Dead Sea--The Dead Sea--The river
Jordan--Horde of Bedouins--Arab horses--The Sultan's well--Bivouac
in the open air--Return to Jerusalem--Bethany--Departure from
Jerusalem--Jacob's grave--Nablus or Sichem--Sebasta--Costume of
Samaritan women--Plain of Esdralon--Sagun.
June 8th.
At five o'clock in the morning we departed, and bent our course
towards the Dead Sea. After a ride of two hours we could see it,
apparently at such a short distance, that we thought half an hour at
the most would bring us there. But the road wound betwixt the
mountains, sometimes ascending, sometimes descending, so that it
took us another two hours to reach the shore of the lake. All
around us was sand. The rocks seem pulverised; we ride through a
labyrinth of monotonous sand-heaps and sand-hills, behind which the
robber-tribes of Arabs and Bedouins frequently lurk, making this
part of the journey exceedingly unsafe.
Before we reach the shore, we ride across a plain consisting, like
the rest, of deep sand, so that the horses sink to the fetlocks at
every step. On the whole of our way we had not met with a single
human being, with the exception of the horde of Bedouins whom we had
found encamped in the river-bed: this was a fortunate circumstance
for us, for the people whom the traveller meets during these
journeys are generally unable to resist the temptation of seizing
upon his goods, so that broken bones are frequently the result of
such meetings.
[Illustration 4. The Dead Sea. ill4.jpg]
The day was very hot (33 degrees Reaum). We encamped in the hot
sand on the shore, under the shelter of our parasols, and made our
breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, a piece of bad bread, and some
lukewarm water. I tasted the sea-water, and found it much more
bitter, salt, and pungent than any I have met with elsewhere. We
all dipped our hands into the lake, and afterwards suffered the heat
of the air to dry them without having first rinsed them with fresh
water; not one of us had to complain that this brought forth an
itching or an eruption on our hands, as many travellers have
asserted. The temperature of the water was 33 degrees Reaum.; in
colour it is a pale green. Near the shore the water is to a certain
extent transparent; but as it deepens it seems turbid, and the eye
can no longer pierce the surface. We could not even see far across
the water, for a light mist seemed to rest upon it, thus preventing
us from forming a good estimate of its breadth.
To judge from what we could distinguish, however, the Dead Sea does
not appear to be very broad; it may rather be termed an oblong lake,
shut in by mountains, than a sea. Not the slightest sign of life
can be detected in the water; not a ripple disturbs its sleeping
surface. A boat of any kind is of course quite out of the question.
Some years since, however, an Englishman made an attempt to navigate
this lake; for this purpose he caused a boat to be built, but did
not progress far in his undertaking,--a sickness came upon him, he
was carried to Jerusalem, and died soon after he had made the
experiment. It is rather a remarkable fact that, up to the present
moment, no Englishman has been found who was sufficiently weary of
his life to imitate his countryman's attempt.
Stunted fragments of drift-wood, most probably driven to shore by
tempests, lay scattered every where around. We could, however,
discover no fields of salt; neither did we see smoke rising, or find
the exhalations from the sea unpleasant. These phenomena are
perhaps observed at a different season of the year to that in which
I visited the Dead Sea. On the other hand, I saw not only separate
birds, but sometimes even flights of twelve or fifteen. Vegetation
also existed here to a certain extent. Not far from the shore, I
noticed, in a little ravine, a group of eight acicular-leaved trees.
On this plain there were also some wild shrubs bearing capers, and a
description of tall shrub, not unlike our bramble, bearing a
plentiful crop of red berries, very juicy and sweet. We all ate
largely of them; and I was the more surprised at finding these
plants here, as I had found it uniformly stated that animal and
vegetable life was wholly extinct on the shores of the Dead Sea.
Five cities, of which not a trace now remains, once lay in the plain
now filled by this sea--their names were Sodom, Gomorrah, Adama,
Zeboin, and Zona. A feeling of painful emotion, mingled with awe,
took possession of my soul as I thought of the past, and saw how the
works of proud and mighty nations had vanished away, leaving behind
them only a name and a memory. It was a relief to me when we
prepared, after an hour's rest, to quit this scene of dreary
desolation.
For about an hour and a half we rode through an enormous waste
covered with trailing weeds, towards the verdant banks of the
Jordan, which are known from a distance by the beautiful blooming
green of the meadows that surround it. We halted in the so-called
"Jordan-vale," where our Saviour was baptised by St. John.
The water of the Jordan is of a dingy clay-colour; its course is
very rapid. The breadth of this stream can scarcely exceed twenty-
five feet, but its depth is said to be considerable. The moment our
Arab companions reached the bank, they flung themselves, heated as
they were, into the river. Most of the gentlemen followed their
example, but less precipitately. I was fain to be content with
washing my face, hands, and feet. We all drank to our hearts'
content, for it was long since we had obtained water so cool and
fresh. I filled several tin bottles, which I had brought with me
for this purpose from Jerusalem, with water from the Jordan, and had
them soldered down on my return to the Holy City. This is the only
method with which I am acquainted for conveying water to the
farthest countries without its turning putrid.
We halted for a few hours beneath the shady trees, and then pursued
our journey across the plain. Suddenly a disturbance arose among
our Arab protectors; they spoke very anxiously with one another, and
continually pointed to some distant object. On inquiring the reason
why they were so disturbed, we were told that they saw robbers. We
strained our eyes in vain; even with the help of good spy-glasses we
could discover nothing, and already began to suspect our escort of
having cried "wolf" without reason, or merely to convince us that we
had not taken them with us for nothing. But in about a quarter of
an hour we could dimly discern figures emerging, one by one, from
the far, far distance. Our Bedouins prepared for the combat, and
advised us to take the opposite road while they advanced to
encounter the enemy. But all the gentlemen wished to take part in
the expedition, and joined the Bedouins, lusting for battle. The
whole cavalcade rode off at a rapid pace, leaving Count Berchtold
and myself behind. But when our steeds saw their companions
galloping off in such fiery style, they scorned to remain idly
behind, and without consulting our inclinations in the least, they
ran of at a pace which fairly took away our breath. The more we
attempted to restrain their headlong course, the more rapidly did
they pursue their career, so that there appeared every prospect of
our becoming the first, instead of the last, among the company. But
when the enemy saw such a determined troop advancing to oppose them,
they hurried off without awaiting our onset, and left us masters of
the field. So we returned in triumph to our old course; when
suddenly a wild boar, with its hopeful family, rushed across our
path. Away we all went in chase of the poor animals. Count
Wratislaw succeeded in cutting down one of the young ones with his
sabre, and it was solemnly delivered up to the cook. No further
obstacles opposed themselves to our march, and we reached our
resting-place for the night without adventure of any kind.
On this occasion I had an opportunity of seeing how the Arabs can
manage their horses, and how they can throw their spears and lances
in full career, and pick up the lances as they fly by. The horses,
too, appear quite different to when they are travelling at their
usual sleepy pace. At first sight these horses look any thing but
handsome. They are thin, and generally walk at a slow pace, with
their heads hanging down. But when skilful riders mount these
creatures, they appear as if transformed. Lifting their small
graceful heads with the fiery eyes, they throw out their slender
feet with matchless swiftness, and bound away over stock and stone
with a step so light and yet so secure that accidents very rarely
occur. It is quite a treat to see the Arabs exercise. Those who
escorted us good-naturedly went through several of their manoeuvres
for our amusement.
From the valley of the Jordan to the "Sultan's Well," in the vale of
Jericho, is a distance of about six miles. The road winds, from the
commencement of the valley, through a beautiful natural park of fig-
trees and other fruit-trees. Here, too, was the first spot where
the eye was gladdened by the sight of a piece of grass, instead of
sand and shingle. Such a change is doubly grateful to one who has
been travelling so long through the barren, sandy desert.
The village lying beside the Sultan's Well looks most deplorable.
The inhabitants seem rather to live under than above the ground. I
went into a few of these _hollows_. I do not know how else to
designate these little stoneheap-houses. Many of them are entirely
destitute of windows, the light finding its way through the hole
left for an entrance. The interiors contained only straw-mats and a
few dirty mattresses, not stuffed with feathers, but with leaves of
trees. All the domestic utensils are comprised in a few trenchers
and water-jugs: the poor people were clothed in rags. In one
corner some grain and a number of cucumbers were stored up. A few
sheep and goats were roaming about in the open air. A field of
cucumbers lies in front of every house. Our Bedouins were in high
glee at finding this valuable vegetable in such abundance. We
encamped beside the well, under the vault of heaven.
From the appearance of the valley in its present state, it is easy
to conclude, in spite of the poverty of the inhabitants and the air
of desolation spread over the farther landscape, that it must once
have been very blooming and fertile.
On the right, the naked mountains extend in the direction of the
Dead Sea; on the left rises the hill on which Moses completed his
earthly career, and from which his great spirit fled to a better
world. On the face of the mountain three caves are visible, and in
the centre one we were told the Saviour had dwelt during his
preparation in the wilderness before undertaking his mission of a
teacher. High above these caves towers the summit of the rock from
which Satan promised to give our Lord the sovereignty of all the
earth if He would fall down and worship him.
Baron Wrede, Mr. Bartlett, and myself were desirous of seeing the
interior of one of these caves, and started with this intention; but
no sooner did one of our Bedouins perceive what we were about, than
he came running up in hot haste to assure us that the whole
neighbourhood was unsafe. We therefore turned back, the more
willingly as the twilight, or rather sunset, was already
approaching.
Twilight in these latitudes is of very short duration. At sunrise
the shades of night are changed into the blaze of day as suddenly as
the daylight vanishes into night.
Our supper consisted of rather a smoky pilau, which we nevertheless
relished exceedingly; for people who have eaten nothing throughout
the day but a couple of hard-boiled eggs are seldom fastidious about
their fare at night. Besides, we had now beautiful fresh water from
the spring, and cucumbers in abundance, though without vinegar or
oil. But to what purpose would the unnatural mixture have been?
Whoever wishes to travel should first strive to disencumber himself
of what is artificial, and then he will get on capitally. The
ground was our bed, and the dark blue ether, with its myriads of
stars, our canopy. On this journey we had not taken a tent with us.
The aspect of the heavens is most beautiful here in Syria. By day
the whole firmament is of a clear azure--not a cloud sullies its
perfect brightness; and at night it seems spangled with a far
greater number of stars than in our northern climes.
Count Zichy ordered the servants to call us betimes in the morning,
in order that we might set out before sunrise. For once the
servants obeyed; in fact they more than obeyed, for they roused us
before midnight, and we began our march. So long as we kept to the
plain, all went well; but whenever we were obliged to climb a
mountain, one horse after another began to stumble and to stagger,
so that we were in continual danger of falling. Under these
circumstances it was unanimously resolved that we should halt
beneath the next declivity, and there await the coming daylight.
June 9th.
At four o'clock the reveille was beaten for the second time. We had
now slept for three hours in the immediate neighbourhood of the Dead
Sea, a circumstance of which we were not aware until daybreak: not
one of our party had noticed any noxious exhalation arising from the
water; still less had we been seized with headache or nausea, an
effect stated by several travellers to be produced by the smell of
the Dead Sea.
Our journey homewards now progressed rapidly, though for three or
four hours we were obliged to travel over most formidable mountain-
roads and through crooked ravines. In one of the valleys we again
came upon a Bedouin's camp. We rode up to the tents and asked for a
draught of water, instead of which these people very kindly gave us
some dishes of excellent buttermilk. In all my life I never partook
of any thing with so keen a relish as that with which I drank this
cooling beverage after my fatiguing ride in the burning heat. Count
Zichy offered our entertainers some money, but they would not take
it. The chief stepped forward and shook several of us by the hand
in token of friendship; for from the moment when a stranger has
broken bread with Bedouins or Arabs, or has applied to them for
protection, he is not only safe among their tribe, but they would
defend him with life and limb from the attacks of his enemies.
Still it is not advisable to meet them on the open plain; so
contradictory are their manners and customs.
We were now advancing with great strides towards a more animated, if
not a more picturesque landscape, and frequently met and overtook
small caravans. One of these had been attacked the previous
evening; the poor Arabs had offered a brave resistance, and had
beaten off the foe; but one of them was lying half dead upon his
camel, with a ghastly shot-wound in his head.
Nimble long-eared goats were diligently searching among the rocks
for their scanty food, and a few grottoes or huts of stone announced
to us the proximity of a little town or village. Right thankful
were we to emerge safely from these fearful deserts into a less
sterile and more populous region.
We passed through Bethany, and I visited the cave in which it is
said that Lazarus slumbered before he came forth alive at the voice
of the Redeemer. Then we journeyed on to Jerusalem by the same road
on which the Saviour travelled when the Jewish people shewed their
attachment and respect, for the last time, by strewing olive and
palm branches in his way. How soon was this scene of holy rejoicing
changed to the ghastly spectacle of the Redeemer's torture and
death!
Towards two o'clock in the afternoon we arrived safely at Jerusalem,
and were greeted with a hearty welcome by our kind hosts.
A few days after my return from the foregoing excursion, I left
Jerusalem for ever. A calm and peaceful feeling of happiness filled
my breast; and ever shall I be thankful to the Almighty that He has
vouchsafed me to behold these realms. Is this happiness dearly
purchased by the dangers, fatigues, and privations attendant upon
it? Surely not. And what, indeed, are all the ills that chequer
our existence here below to the woes endured by the blessed Founder
of our religion! The remembrance of these holy places, and of Him
who lived and suffered here, shall surely strengthen and console me
wherever I may be and whatever I may be called upon to endure.
FROM JERUSALEM TO BEYROUT.
My gentleman-protectors wished to journey from Jerusalem to Beyrout
by land, and intended taking a circuitous route, by way of Nazareth,
Galilee, Canaan, etc., in order to visit as many of these places as
possible, which are fraught with such interest to us Christians.
They were once more kind enough to admit me into their party, and
the 11th of June was fixed for our departure.
June 11th.
Quitting Jerusalem at three o'clock in the afternoon, we emerged
from the Damascus Gate, and entered a large elevated plateau.
Though this region is essentially a stony one, I saw several
stubble-fields, and even a few scanty blades of grass.
The view is very extended; at a distance of four miles the walls of
Jerusalem were still in view, till at length the road curved round a
hill, and the Holy City was for ever hidden from our sight.
On the left of the road, an old church, said to have been erected in
the days of Samuel, stands upon a hill.
At six in the evening we reached the little village of Bir, and
fixed our halting-place for the night in a neighbouring stubble-
field. During my first journey by land (I mean my ride from Joppa
to Jerusalem), I had already had a slight foretaste of what is to be
endured by the traveller in these regions. Whoever is not very
hardy and courageous, and insensible to hunger, thirst, heat, and
cold; whoever cannot sleep on the hard ground, or even on stones,
passing the cold nights under the open sky, should not pursue his
journey farther than from Joppa to Jerusalem: for, as we proceed,
the fatigues become greater and less endurable, and the roads are
more formidable to encounter; besides this, the food is so bad that
we only eat from fear of starvation; and the only water we can get
to drink is lukewarm, and offensive from the leathern jars in which
it is kept.
We usually rode for six or seven hours at a time without alighting
even for a moment, though the thermometer frequently stood at from
30 to 34 degrees Reaumur. Afterwards we rested for an hour at the
most; and this halt was often made in the open plain, where not a
tree was in sight. Refreshment was out of the question, either for
the riders or the poor beasts, and frequently we had not even water
to quench our burning thirst. The horses were compelled to labour
unceasingly from sunrise until evening, without even receiving a
feed during the day's journey. The Arabian horse is the only one
capable of enduring so much hardship. In the evening these poor
creatures are relieved of their burdens, but very seldom of the
saddle; for the Arabs assert that it is less dangerous for the horse
to bear the saddle day and night, than that it should be exposed
when heated by the day's toil to the cold night-air. Bridles,
saddles, and stirrups were all in such bad condition that we were in
continual danger of falling to the ground, saddle and all. In fact,
this misfortune happened to many of our party, but luckily it was
never attended with serious results.
June 12th.
The night was very chilly; although we slept in a tent, our thick
cloaks scarcely sufficed to shield us from the night-air. In the
morning the fog was so dense that we could not see thirty paces
before us. Towards eight o'clock it rolled away, and a few hours
later the heat of the sun began to distress us greatly. It is
scarcely possible to guard too carefully against the effects of the
heat; the head should in particular be kept always covered, as
carelessness in this respect may bring on coup de soleil. I always
wore two pocket handkerchiefs round my head, under my straw hat, and
continually used a parasol.
From Bir to Jabrud, where we rested for a few hours, we travelled
for six hours through a monotonous and sterile country. We had
still a good four hours' ride before us to Nablus, our resting-place
for the night.
The roads here are bad beyond conception, so that at first the
stranger despairs of passing them either on foot or on horseback.
Frequently the way leads up hill and down dale, over great masses of
rock; and I was truly surprised at the strength and agility of our
poor horses, which displayed extraordinary sagacity in picking out
the little ledges on which they could place their feet safely in
climbing from rock to rock. Sometimes we crossed smooth slabs of
stone, where the horses were in imminent danger of slipping; at
others, the road led us past frightful chasms, the sight of which
was sufficient to make me dizzy. I had read many accounts of these
roads, and was prepared to find them bad enough; but my expectations
were far surpassed by the reality. All that the traveller can do is
to trust in Providence, and abandon himself to fate and to the
sagacity of his horse.
An hour and a half before we reached the goal of this day's journey,
we passed the grave of the patriarch Jacob. Had our attention not
been particularly drawn to this monument, we should have ridden by
without noticing it, for a few scattered blocks of stone are all
that remain. A little farther on we enter the Samaritan territory,
and here is "Jacob's well," where our Saviour held converse with the
woman of Samaria. The masonry of the well has altogether vanished,
but the spring still gushes forth from a rock.
Nablus, the ancient Sichem, the chief town of Samaria, contains four
thousand inhabitants, and is reputed to be one of the most ancient
towns in Palestine. It is surrounded by a strong wall, and consists
of a long and very dirty street. We rode through the town from one
end to the other, and past the poor-looking bazaar, where nothing
struck me but the sight of some fresh figs, which were at this early
season already exposed for sale. Of course we bought the fruit at
once; but it had a very bad flavour.
A number of soldiers are seen in all the towns. They are Arnauts, a
wild, savage race of men, who appear to be regarded with more dread
by the inhabitants than the wandering tribes whose incursions they
are intended to repress.
We pitched our tents on a little hill immediately outside the town.
Few things are more disagreeable to the traveller than being
compelled to bivouac near a town or village in the East. All the
inhabitants, both young and old, flock round in order to examine the
European caravan, which is a most unusual sight for them, as closely
as possible. They frequently even crowd into the tents, and it
becomes necessary to expel the intruders almost by main force. Not
only are strangers excessively annoyed at being thus made a gazing-
stock, but they also run a risk of being plundered.
Our cook had the good fortune to obtain a kid only three or four
days old, which was immediately killed and at once boiled with rice.
We made a most sumptuous meal, for it was seldom we could get such
good fare.
June 13th.
The morning sun found us already on horseback; we rode through the
whole of the beautiful valley at the entrance of which Nablus lies.
The situation of this town is very charming. The valley is not
broad, and does not exceed a mile and a half in length; it is
completely surrounded with low hills. The mountain on the right is
called Ebal, and that on the left Grissim. The latter is celebrated
as being the meeting-place of the twelve tribes of Israel under
Joshua; they there consulted upon the means of conquering the land
of Canaan.
The whole valley is sufficiently fertile; even the hills are in some
instances covered to their summits with olive, fig, lemon, and
orange trees. Some little brooks, clear as crystal, bubble through
the beautiful plain. We were frequently compelled to ride through
the water; but all the streams are at this season of the year so
shallow, that our horses' hoofs were scarcely covered.
After gaining the summit of the neighbouring hill, we turned round
with regret to look our last on this valley; seldom has it been my
lot to behold a more charming picture of blooming vegetation.
Two hours more brought us to Sebasta, the ancient Samaria, which
also lies on a lovely hill, though for beauty of situation it is not
to be compared with Nablus. Sebasta is a wretched village. The
ruins of the convent built on the place where St. John the Baptist
was beheaded were here pointed out to us; but even of the ruins
there are few traces left.
Two hours later we reached Djenin, and had now entered the confines
of Galilee. Though this province, perhaps, no longer smiles with
the rich produce it displayed in the days of old, it still affords a
strong contrast to Judaea. Here we again find hedges of the Indian
fig-tree, besides palms and large expanses of field; but for flowers
and meadows we still search in vain.
The costume of the Samaritan and Galilean women appears as
monotonous as it is poor and dirty. They wear only a long dark-blue
gown, and the only difference to be observed in their dress is that
some muffle their faces and others do not. It would be no loss if
all wore veils; for so few pretty women and girls are to be
discovered, that they might be searched for, like the honest man of
Diogenes, with a lantern. The women have all an ugly brown
complexion, their hair is matted, and their busts lack the rounded
fullness of the Turkish women. They have a custom of ornamenting
both sides of the head, from the crown to the chin, with a row of
silver coins; and those women who do not muffle their faces usually
wear as head-dress a handkerchief of blue linen.
Djenin is a dirty little town, which we only entered in consequence
of having been told that we should behold the place where Queen
Jezebel fell from the window and was devoured by dogs. Both window
and palace have almost vanished; but dogs, who look even now as
though they could relish such royal prey, are seen prowling about
the streets. Not only in Constantinople, but in every city of Syria
we found these wild dogs; they were, however, nowhere so numerous as
in the imperial city.
We halted for an hour or two outside the town, beside a coffee-
house, and threw ourselves on the ground beneath the open sky. A
kind of hearth made of masonry, on which hot water was continually
in readiness, stood close by, and near it some mounds of earth had
been thrown up to serve as divans. A ragged boy was busy pounding
coffee, while his father, the proprietor of the concern, concocted
the cheering beverage, and handed it round to the guests. Straw-
mats were spread for our accommodation on the earthen divans, and
without being questioned we were immediately served with coffee and
argile. In the background stood a large and lofty stable of
brickwork, which might have belonged to a great European inn.
After recruiting ourselves here a little, we once more set forth to
finish our day's journey. Immediately after leaving the town, a
remarkably fine view opens before us over the great elevated plain
Esdralon, to the magnificent range of mountains enclosing this
immense plateau. In the far distance they shewed us Mount Carmel,
and, somewhat nearer, Mount Tabor. Here, too, the mountains are
mostly barren, without, however, being entirely composed of naked
masses of rock. Mount Tabor, standing entirely alone and richly
clothed with vegetation, has a very fine appearance.
For nearly two hours we rode across the plain of Esdralon, and had
thus ample leisure to meditate upon the great events that have
occurred here. It is difficult to imagine a grander battlefield,
and we can readily believe that in such a plain whole nations may
have struggled for victory. From the time of Nabucodonosor to the
period of the Crusades, and from the days of the Crusades to those
of Napoleon, armies of men from all nations have assembled here to
fight for their real or imaginary rights, or for the glory of
conquest.
The great and continuous heat had cracked and burst the ground on
this plain to such a degree, that we were in continual apprehension
lest our horses should catch their feet in one or other of the
fissures, and strain or even break them. The soil of the plain
seems very good, and is free from stones; it appears, however,
generally to lie fallow, being thickly covered with weeds and wild
artichokes. The villages are seen in the far distance near the
mountains. This plain forms part of Canaan.
We pitched our camp for the night beside a little cistern, near the
wretched village of Lagun; and thus slept, for the third night
consecutively, on the hard earth.
June 14th.
To-day we rode for an hour across the plain of Esdralon, and once
more suffered dreadfully from the stings of the minute gnats which
had annoyed us so much on our journey from Joppa to Ramla. These
plagues did not leave us until we had partly ascended the mountains
skirting the plain, from the summit of which we could see Nazareth,
prettily built on a hill at the entrance of a fruitful valley. In
the background rises the beautiful Mount Tabor.
From the time we first see Nazareth until we reach the town is a
ride of an hour and a half; thus the journey from Lagun to Nazareth
occupies four hours and a half, and the entire distance from
Jerusalem twenty-six or twenty-seven hours.
CHAPTER X.
Arrival at Nazareth--Franciscan convent--Tabarith--Mount Tabor--Lake
of Gennesareth--Baths--Mount Carmel--Grotto of the prophet Elijah--
Acre--The pacha's harem--Oriental women--Their listlessness and
ignorance--Sur or Tyre.
It was only nine o'clock when we reached Nazareth, and repaired to
the house for strangers in the Franciscan convent, where the priests
welcomed us very kindly. As soon as we had made a short survey of
our rooms (which resulted in our finding them very like those at
Jerusalem, both as regards appearance and arrangement), we set forth
once more to visit all the remarkable places, and above all the
church which contains the Grotto of Annunciation. This church, to
which we were accompanied by a clergyman, was built by St. Helena,
and is of no great size. In the background a staircase leads down
into the grotto, where it is asserted that the Virgin Mary received
the Lord's message from the angel. Three little pillars of granite
are still to be seen in this grotto. The lower part of one of these
pillars was broken away by the Turks, so that it is only fastened
from above. On the strength of this circumstance many have averred
that the pillar hangs suspended in air! Had these men but looked
beyond their noses, had they only cast their eyes upwards, they
could not have had the face to preach a miracle where it is so
palpable that none exists. A picture on the wall, not badly
executed, represents the Annunciation. The house of the Virgin is
not shewn here, because, according to the legend, an angel carried
it away to Loretto in Italy. A few steps lead to another grotto,
affirmed to be the residence of a neighbour of the Virgin, during
whose absence she presided over the house and attended to the duties
of the absent Mary.
Another grotto in the town is shewn as "the workshop of Joseph;" it
has been left in its primitive state, except that a plain wooden
altar has been added. Not far off we find the synagogue where our
Lord taught the people, thereby exasperating the Pharisees to such a
degree, that they wished to cast Him down from a rock outside the
city. In conclusion we were shewn an immense block of stone on
which the Saviour is said to have eaten the Passover with His
disciples(!).
In the afternoon we went to see "Mary's Well," on the road to
Tabarith, at a short distance from Nazareth. This well is fenced
round with masonry, and affords pure clear water. Hither, it is
said, the Virgin came every day to draw water, and here the women
and girls of Nazareth may still be daily seen walking to and fro
with pitchers on their shoulders. Those whom we saw were all poorly
clad, and looked dirty. Many wore no covering on their head, and,
what was far worse, their hair hung down in a most untidy manner.
Their bright eyes were the only handsome feature these people
possessed. The custom of wearing silver coins round the head also
prevailed here.
To-day was a day of misfortunes for me; in the morning, when we
departed from Lagun, I had already felt unwell. On the road I was
seized with violent headache, nausea, and feverish shiverings, so
that I hardly thought I should be able to reach Nazareth. The worst
of all this was, that I felt obliged to hide my illness, as I had
done on our journey to Jerusalem, for fear I should be left behind.
The wish to view all the holy places in Nazareth was also so
powerful within me, that I made a great effort, and accompanied the
rest of my party for the whole day, though I was obliged every
moment to retire into the background that my condition might not be
observed. But when we went to table, the smell of the viands
produced such an effect upon me, that I hastily held my handkerchief
before my face as though my nose were bleeding, and hurried out.
Thanks to my sunburnt skin, through which no paleness could
penetrate, no one noticed that I was ill. The whole day long I
could eat nothing; but towards evening I recovered a little. My
appetite now also returned, but unfortunately nothing was to be had
but some bad mutton-broth and an omelette made with rancid oil. It
is bad enough to be obliged to subsist on such fare when we are in
health, but the hardship increases tenfold when we are ill.
However, I sent for some bread and wine, and strengthened myself
therewith as best I might.
June 15th.
Thanks be to Heaven, I was to-day once more pretty well. In the
morning I could already mount my horse and take part in the
excursion we desired to make to
TABARITH.
Passing Mary's Well and a mountain crowned by some ruins, the
remains of ancient Canaan, we ride for about three miles towards the
foot of Mount Tabor, the highest summit of which we do not reach for
more than an hour. There were no signs of a beaten road, and we
were obliged to ride over all obstacles; a course of proceeding
which so tired our horses, that in half an hour's time they were
quite knocked up, so that we had to proceed on foot. After much
toil and hardship, with a great deal of climbing and much suffering
from the heat, we gained the summit, and were repaid for the toil of
the ascent, not only by the reflection that we stood on classic
ground, but also by the beautiful view which lay spread before our
eyes. This prospect is indeed magnificent. We overlook the entire
plain of Saphed, as far as the shores of the Galilean Sea. Mount
Tabor is also known by the name of the "Mountain of Bliss"--here it
was that our Lord preached His exquisite "Sermon on the Mount." Of
all the hills I have seen in Syria, Mount Tabor is the only one
covered to the summit with oaks and carob-trees. The valleys too
are filled with the richest earth, instead of barren sand; but in
spite of all this the population is thin, and the few villages are
wretched and puny. The poor inhabitants of Syria are woefully
ground down; the taxes are too high in proportion to the productions
of the soil, so that the peasants cannot possibly grow more produce
than they require for their own consumption. Thus, for instance,
orchards are not taxed in the aggregate, but according to each
separate tree. For every olive-tree the owner must pay a piastre,
or a piastre and a half; and the same sum for an orange or lemon
tree. And heavily taxed as he is, the poor peasant is never safe in
saying, "Such and such a thing belongs to me." The pacha may shift
him to another piece of land, or drive him away altogether, if he
thinks it advisable to do so; for a pacha's power in his province is
as great as that of the Sultan himself in Constantinople.
Porcupines are to be met with on Mount Tabor; we found several of
their fine horny quills.
From the farther side of the mountain we descended into the
beautiful and spacious valley of Saphed, the scene of the miracle of
the loaves and fishes, and rode on for some hours until we reached
Tabarith.
A very striking scene opens before the eyes of the traveller on the
last mountain before Tabarith. A lovely landscape lies suddenly
unrolled before him. The valley sinks deeply down to the Galilean
Sea, round the shores of which a glorious chain of mountains rises
in varied and picturesque terrace-like forms. More beautiful than
all the rest, towers in snowy grandeur the mighty chain of the Anti-
Lebanon, its white surface glittering in the rays of the sun, and
distinctly mirrored in the clear bosom of the lake. Deep down lies
the little town of Tabarith, shadowed by palm-trees, and guarded by
a castle raised a little above it. The unexpected beauty of this
scene surprised us so much that we alighted from our horses, and
passed more than half an hour on the summit of the mountain, to gaze
at our leisure upon the wondrous picture. Count S. drew a hurried
but very successful sketch of the landscape which we all admired so
much, though its mountains were naked and bare. But such is the
peculiar character of Eastern scenery; in Europe, meadows, alps, and
woods exhibit quite a distinct class of natural beauty. In a
mountain region of Europe, a sight like the one we were now admiring
would scarcely have charmed us so much. But in these regions, poor
alike in inhabitants and in scenery, the traveller is contented with
little, and a little thing charms him. For instance, would not a
plain piece of beef have been a greater luxury to us on our journey
than the most costly delicacies at home? Thus we felt also with
regard to scenery.
On entering the town we experienced a feeling of painful emotion.
Tabarith lay still half in ruins; for the dreadful earthquake of
1839 had made this place one of the chief victims of its fury. How
must the town have looked immediately after the calamity, when even
now, in spite of the extensive repairs, it appears almost like a
heap of ruins! We saw some houses that had completely fallen in;
others were very much damaged, with large cracks in the walls, and
shattered terraces and towers: every where, in short, we wandered
among ruins. Above 4000 persons, more than half of the entire
population, are said to have perished by this earthquake.
We alighted at the house of a Jewish doctor, who entertains
strangers, as there is no inn at Tabarith. I was quite surprised to
find every thing so clean and neat in this man's house. The little
rooms were simply but comfortably furnished, the small courtyard was
flagged with large stones, and round the walls of the hall were
ranged narrow benches with soft cushions. We were greatly
astonished at this appearance of neatness and order; but our wonder
rose when we made the discovery that the Jews, who are very numerous
at Tabarith, are not clothed in the Turkish or Greek fashion, but
quite like their brethren in Poland and Galicia. Most of them also
spoke German. I immediately inquired the reason of this
peculiarity, and was informed that all the Jewish families resident
in this town originally came from Poland or Russia, with the
intention of dying in the Promised Land. As a rule, all Jews seem
to cherish a warm desire to pass their last days in the country of
their forefathers, and to be buried there.
We requested our young hostess, whose husband was absent, to prepare
for us without delay a good quantity of pilau and fowls; adding,
that we would in the mean time look at the town and the neighbouring
baths at the Sea of Gennesareth, but that we should return in an
hour and a half at the most.
We then proceeded to the Sea of Gennesareth, which is a fresh-water
lake. We entered a fisherman's boat, in order that we might sail on
the waters where our Lord had once bid the winds "be still." We
were rowed to the warm springs, which rise near the shore, a few
hundred paces from the town. On the lake all was calm; but no
sooner had we landed than a storm arose--between the fishermen and
ourselves. In this country, if strangers neglect to bargain
beforehand for every stage with guides, porters, and people of this
description, they are nearly sure of being charged an exorbitant sum
in the end. This happened to us on our present little trip, which
certainly did not occupy more than half an hour. We took our seats
in the boat without arranging for the fares; and on disembarking
offered the fishermen a very handsome reward. But these worthies
threw down the money, and demanded thirty piastres; whereas, if we
had bargained with them at first, they would certainly not have
asked ten. We gave them fifteen piastres, to get rid of them; but
this did not satisfy their greediness; on the contrary, they yelled
and shouted, until the Count's servants threatened to restore peace
and quietness with their sticks. At length the fishermen were so
far brought to their senses that they walked away, scolding and
muttering as they went.
Adjoining the warm springs we found a bathing-house, built in a
round form and covered with a cupola. Here we also met a
considerable number of pilgrims, mostly Greeks and Armenians from
the neighbourhood, who were journeying to Jerusalem. They had
encamped beside the bathing-house. Half of these people were in the
water, where a most animated conversation was going on. We also
wished to enter the building, not for the purpose of bathing, but to
view the beauty and arrangements of the interior, which have been
the subject of many laudatory descriptions; but at the entrance such
a cloud of vapour came rolling towards us that we were unable to
penetrate far. I saw enough, however, to feel convinced, that in
the description of these baths poetry or exaggeration had led many a
pen far beyond the bounds of fact. Neither the exterior of this
building, nor the cursory glance I was enabled to throw into the
interior, excited either my curiosity or my astonishment. Seen from
without, these baths resemble a small-sized house built in a very
mediocre style, and with very slender claims to beauty. The
interior displayed a large quantity of marble,--for instance, in the
floor, the sides of the bath, etc. But marble is not such a rarity
in this country that it can raise this bathing-kiosk into a wonder-
building, or render it worthy of more than a passing glance. I
endeavour to see every thing exactly as it stands before me, and to
describe it in my simple diary without addition or ornament.
At eight o'clock in the evening we returned tired and hungry to our
comfortable quarters, flattering ourselves that we should find the
plain supper we had ordered a few hours before smoking on the
covered table, ready for our arrival. But neither in the hall nor
in the chamber could we find even a table, much less a covered one.
Half dead with exhaustion, we threw ourselves on chairs and benches,
looking forward with impatience to the supper and the welcome rest
that was to follow it. Messenger after messenger was despatched to
the culinary regions, to inquire if the boiled fowls were not yet in
an eatable condition. Each time we were promised that supper would
be ready "in a quarter of an hour," and each time nothing came of
it. At length, at ten o'clock, a table was brought into the room;
after some time a single chair, appeared, and then one more; then
came another interval of waiting, until at length a clean table-
cloth was laid. These arrivals occupied the time until eleven
o'clock, when the master of the house, who had been absent on an
excursion, made his appearance, and with him came a puny roast fowl.
No miracle, alas, took place at our table like that of the plain of
Saphed; we were but seven persons, and so the fowl need only have
been increased seven times to satisfy us all; but as it was, each
person received one rib and no more. Our supper certainly consisted
of several courses brought in one after the other. Had we known
this, we certainly should soon have arranged the matter, for then
each person would have appropriated the whole of a dish to himself.
In the space of an hour and a quarter nine or ten little dishes made
their appearance; but the portion of food contained in each was so
small, that our supper may be said to have consisted of a variety of
"tastes." We would greatly have preferred two good-sized dishes to
all these kickshaws. The dishes were, a roast, a boiled, and a
baked chicken, a little plate of prepared cucumbers, an equally
small portion of this vegetable in a raw state, a little pilau, and
a few small pieces of mutton.
Our host kindly provided food for the mind during supper by
describing to us a series of horrible scenes which had occurred at
the time of the earthquake. He, too, had lost his wife and children
by this calamity, and only owed his own life to the circumstance
that he was absent at a sick-bed when the earthquake took place.
Half an hour after midnight we at length sought our resting-places.
The doctor very kindly gave up his three little bedrooms to us, but
the heat was so oppressive that we preferred quartering ourselves on
the stones in the yard. They made a very hard bed, but we none of
us felt symptoms of indigestion after our sumptuous meal.
June 16th.
At five o'clock in the morning we took leave of our host, and
returned in six hours to Nazareth by the same road on which we had
already travelled. We did not, however, ascend Mount Tabor a second
time, but rode along beside its base. To-day I once more visited
all the spots I had seen when I was so ill two days before; in this
pursuit I passed some very agreeable hours.
June 17th.
In the morning, at half-past four, we once more bade farewell to the
worthy priests of Nazareth, and rode without stopping for nine hours
and a half, until at two o'clock we reached
MOUNT CARMEL.
It was long since we had travelled on such a good road as that on
which we journeyed to-day. Now and then, however, a piece truly
Syrian in character had to be encountered, probably lest we should
lose the habit of facing hardship and danger. Another comfort was
that we were not obliged to-day to endure thirst, as we frequently
passed springs of good clear water. At one time our way even led
through a small oak-wood, a phenomenon almost unprecedented in
Syria. There was certainly not a single tree in all the wood which
a painter might have chosen for a study, for they were all small and
crippled. Large leafy trees, like those in my own land, are very
seldom seen in this country. The carob, which grows here in
abundance, is almost the only handsome tree; it has a beautiful
leaf, scarcely larger than that of a rose-tree, of an oval form, as
thick as the back of a knife, and of a beautiful bright green
colour.
Mount Carmel lies on the sea-shore. It is not high, and half an
hour suffices the traveller to reach its summit, which is crowned by
a spacious and beautiful convent, probably the handsomest in all
Palestine, not even excepting the monasteries at Nazareth and
Jerusalem. The main front of the building contains a suite of six
or seven large rooms, with folding-doors and lofty regular windows.
These rooms, together with several in the wings, are devoted to the
reception of strangers. They are arranged in European style, with
very substantial pieces of furniture, among which neither sofas nor
useful chests of drawers are wanting.
[Illustration 5. Mount Carmel. ill5.jpg]
About an hour after we arrived our reverend hosts regaled us with a
more sumptuous meal than any of which I had partaken since my
departure from Constantinople.
In proportion as our fare had been meagre and our accommodation
indifferent at Nazareth and Jerusalem, did we find every thing here
excellent. In an elegant dining-room stood a large table covered
with a fine white cloth, on which cut glass and clean knives, forks,
and china plates gleamed invitingly. A servant in European garb
placed some capital fast-day fare on the table (it was Friday), and
a polite priest kept us company; but not in eating, for he rightly
considered that such a hungry company would not require any example
to fall to.
During the whole remainder of our journey through Syria this convent
occupied a green spot in our memory. How capitally would a few
days' rest here have recruited our strength! But the gentlemen had
a distant goal before their eyes, and "Forward!" was still the cry.
After dinner we went down to the sea-shore, to visit the large
grotto called the "Prophets' school." This grotto has really the
appearance of a lofty and spacious hall, where a number of disciples
could have sat and listened to the words of the prophet.
The grotto in which Elijah is said to have lived is situated in a
church at the top of the mountain. Mount Carmel is quite barren,
being only covered here and there with brambles; but the view is
magnificent. In the foreground the eye can roam over the boundless
expanse of ocean, while at the foot of the mountain it fords a
resting-place in the considerable town of Haifa, lying in a fertile
plain, which extends to the base of the high mountains, bounded in
the distance by the Anti-Libanus, and farther still by the Lebanon
itself. Along the line of coast we can distinguish Acre (or
Ptolemais), Sur (Tyre), and Soida (Sidon).
June 18th.
This morning we sent our poor over-tired horses on before us to
Hese, and walked on foot at midday under a temperature of 33 degrees
to Haifas, a distance of more than two miles. Heated and exhausted
to the last degree we reached the house of the Consul, who is a
Catholic, but seems nevertheless to live quite in Oriental fashion.
This gentleman is consul both for France and Austria. Although he
was not at home when we arrived, we were immediately shewn into the
room of state, where we reclined on soft divans, and were regaled
with sherbet of all colours, green, yellow, red, etc., and with
coffee flavoured with roses, which we did not like. Hookahs (or
tchibuks) were also handed round. At length the Consul's wife
appeared, a young and beautiful lady of an imposing figure, dressed
in the Oriental garb. She smoked her tchibuk with as much ease as
the gentlemen. Luckily a brother of this lady who understood
something of Italian was present, and kindly acted as interpreter.
I have never found an Oriental woman who knew any language but that
of her own country.
After we had rested ourselves, we pursued our journey in a boat to
Acre. On my road to Jerusalem I had only seen the outside of this
monument of the last war, now I could view its interior; but saw
nothing to repay me for my trouble. Considering how ugly the
Turkish towns are even when they are in good preservation, it may
easily be imagined that the appearance of one of these cities is not
improved when it is full of shot-holes, and the streets and
interiors of the houses are choked up with rubbish. The entrance to
the convent lies through the courtyard of the Turkish barracks,
where there seemed to be a great deal of bustle, and where we had an
opportunity of noticing how wretchedly clad, and still more
miserably shod, the Turkish soldiers are. These blemishes are not
so much observed when the men are seen singly at their posts.
The convent here is very small, being in fact only a dwelling-house
to which a chapel is attached. Two monks and a lay brother form the
whole household.
Scarcely had I established myself in my room, before a very polite
lady entered, who introduced herself to me as the wife of a surgeon
in the service of the pacha here. She stated that her husband was
at present absent at Constantinople, and added that she was in the
habit of spending several hours in the convent every evening to do
the honours of the house! This assertion struck me as so strange,
that I should certainly have remained dumb had not my visitor been a
very agreeable, polite French lady. As it was, however, we chatted
away the evening pleasantly together, until the supper-bell summoned
us to the refectory. All that I saw in this convent was in direct
contrast to the arrangement of the comfortable establishment of the
Carmelites. The refectory here is astonishingly dirty; the whole
furniture consists of two dingy tables and some benches; the table-
cloth, plates, etc. wore the prevailing livery; and the fare was
quite in keeping with every thing else. We supped at two tables;
the gentlemen and the reverend fathers sitting at one, while the
French lady and myself occupied the other.
June 19th.
As we were not to travel far to-day, we did not set out until ten
o'clock, when we started in company of several Franks who were in
the pacha's service. They led us into a park by the roadside
belonging to the mother of the Sultan. Here the pacha usually
resides during the summer. In half an hour's time we reached this
park. The garden is rather handsome, but does not display many
plants except lemon, orange, pomegranate, and cypress trees. The
display of flowers was not very remarkable; for not only could we
discover no rare or foreign plants, but we also missed many flowers
which grow plentifully in our gardens at home. A few kiosks are
here to be seen, but every thing seemed miserably out of repair.
The residence of the pacha, situated outside the gardens, has a more
inviting appearance. We paid our respects to his highness, who
received us very graciously, and caused us to be regaled with the
usual beverages. No sooner had the high ladies in the harem learnt
that a Frankish woman was in their territory, than they sent to
invite me to visit them. I gladly accepted this invitation, the
more so as it offered an opportunity of gratifying my curiosity. I
was conducted to another part of the house, where I stepped into a
chamber of middle size, the floor of which was covered with mats and
carpets, while on cushions ranged round the walls reclined beauties
of various complexions, who seemed to have been collected from every
quarter of the globe. One of these women, who was rather elderly,
appeared to be the pacha's chief wife, for all the rest pointed to
her. The youngest lady seemed about eighteen or nineteen years of
age, and was the mother of a child eight months old, with which they
were all playing as with a doll; the poor little thing was handed
about from hand to hand. These ladies were dressed exactly like the
daughters of the consul at Joppa, whose costume I have described. I
did not see any signs of particular beauty, unless the stoutness of
figure so prevalent here is considered in that light. I saw,
however, a woman with one eye, a defect frequently observed in the
East. Female slaves were there of all shades of colour. One wore a
ring through her nose, and another had tastefully painted her lips
blue. Both mistresses and slaves had their eyebrows and eyelashes
painted black, and their nails and the palm of the hand stained a
light-brown with the juice of the henna.
The Oriental women are ignorant and inquisitive in the highest
degree; they can neither read nor write, and the knowledge of a
foreign language is quite out of the question. It is very rarely
that one of them understands embroidering in gold. Whenever I
happened to be writing in my journal, men, women, and children would
gather round me, and gaze upon me and my book with many signs and
gestures expressive of astonishment.
The ladies of the harem seemed to look with contempt upon employment
and work of every kind; for neither here nor elsewhere did I see
them do any thing but sit cross-legged on carpets and cushions,
drinking coffee, smoking nargile, and gossiping with one another.
They pressed me to sit down on a cushion, and then immediately
surrounded me, endeavouring, by signs, to ask many questions. First
they took my straw hat and put it upon their heads; then they felt
the stuff of my travelling robe; but they seemed most of all
astonished at my short hair, {165} the sight of which seemed to
impress these poor ignorant women with the idea that nature had
denied long hair to the Europeans. They asked me by signs how this
came to pass, and every lady came up and felt my hair. They seemed
also very much surprised that I was so thin, and offered me their
nargile, besides sherbet and cakes. On the whole, our conversation
was not very animated, for we had no dragoman to act as interpreter,
so that we were obliged to guess at what was meant, and at length I
sat silently among these Orientals, and was heartily glad when, at
the expiration of an hour, my friends sent to fetch me away. At a
later period of my journey I frequently visited harems, and
sometimes considerable ones; but I found them all alike. The only
difference lay in the fact that some harems contained more beautiful
women and slaves, and that in others the inmates were more richly
clad; but every where I found the same idle curiosity, ignorance,
and apathy. Perhaps they may be more happy than European women; I
should suppose they were, to judge from their comfortable figures
and their contented features. Corpulence is said frequently to
proceed from a good-natured and quiet disposition; and their
features are so entirely without any fixed character and expression,
that I do not think these women capable of deep passions or feeling
either for good or evil. Exceptions are of course to be found even
among the Turkish women; I only report what I observed on the
average.
This day we rode altogether for seven hours. We passed a beautiful
orange-grove; for the greater part of the way our road led through
deep sand, close by the sea-shore; but once we had to pass a
dreadfully dangerous place called the "White Mount," one extremity
of which rises out of the sea. This once passed, we soon come upon
the beautiful far-stretching aqueduct which I noticed on my journey
from Joppa to Jerusalem. It traverses a portion of this fruitful
plain.
We could not enter the little town of Sur, the goal of this day's
journey, as it was closed on account of the plague. We therefore
passed by, and pitched our tents beside a village, in the
neighbourhood of which large and splendid cisterns of water, hewn in
the rock, are to be seen. The superfluous water from these cisterns
falls from a height of twenty or thirty feet, and after turning a
mill-wheel, flows through the vale in the form of a brook.
CHAPTER XI.
River Mishmir--Saida--Arnauts--Desert-path--Residence of Lady Hester
Stanhope--Beyrout--The consul's--Uncomfortable quarters--Sickness--
The Bazaar--Vexatious delays--Departure from Beyrout--Beautiful
views--Syrian costumes--Damascus--Aspect of the city--House of the
consul.
June 20th.
Shortly after five this morning we were in our saddles, and a few
hours afterwards arrived at the beautiful river Mishmir, which is as
broad as the Jordan, though it does not contain nearly so much
water. Next to the Jordan, however, this river is the largest we
find on our journey, besides being a most agreeable object in a
region so destitute of streams. Its water is pure as crystal.
In ten hours we reached the town, and at once repaired to the
convent, as not one of these cities contains an inn. The little
convent, with its tiny church, is situate at the end of a large
courtyard, which is so thronged with horses and men, particularly
with soldiers, that we had great difficulty in forcing our way
through. When we had at length cleared a passage for ourselves to
the entrance, we were received with the agreeable intelligence that
there was no room for us. What was to be done? We thought
ourselves lucky in obtaining a little room where we could pass the
night in a house belonging to a Greek family; beds were, however,
out of the question; we had to lie on the hard stones. In the
courtyard a kind of camp had been pitched, in which twelve state-
horses of the Emir {167} of Lebanon (creatures of the true Arab
breed) were bivouacking among a quantity of Arnauts.
The Arnaut soldiers are universally feared, but more by friend than
foe. They are very turbulent, and behave in an overbearing manner
towards the people. The Count, my fellow-traveller, was even
insulted in the street, not by a peasant, but by one of these
military fellows. These ill-disciplined troops are assembled every
where, in order that they may be ready to attack whenever a
disturbance occurs between the Druses and Maronites. I consider,
however, that the Arnauts are much more to be feared than either the
Druses or the Maronites, through whose territories we afterwards
journeyed without experiencing, in a single instance, either insult
or injury. I hardly think we should have escaped so well had we
encountered a troop of these wild horsemen.
Among all the Turkish soldiers the Arnauts are the best dressed;
with their short and full white skirts of linen or lawn, and tight
trousers of white linen, a scarf round the middle, and a white or a
red spencer, they closely resemble the Albanians.
June 21st.
This was a most fatiguing day, although we did not ride for more
than ten hours; but this ten hours' journey was performed without
even a quarter of an hour's rest, though the thermometer stood at 33
degrees Reaumur. Our path lay through a sandy desert, about two
miles in breadth, running parallel with the mountain-range from
Saida to Beyrout. The monotony of the steppe is only broken at
intervals by heaps of sand. The surface of the sand presents the
appearance of a series of waves; the particles of which it is
composed are very minute, and of a fine yellowish-brown colour. A
beautiful fertile valley adjoins this desert, and stretches towards
Mount Lebanon, on whose brown rocky surface several villages can be
descried.
This mountain-range has a most imposing appearance. White rocks and
strata of white sand shine forth from its broad and generally barren
expanse like fields of snow.
The residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope can be seen in the
distance on the declivity of the mountain.
During our long ride of ten hours we did not pass a single tank,
spring, or even pool, and all the river-beds on our way were
completely dried up by the heat. Not a tree could we see that could
shelter us for a moment from the glaring heat of the sun. It was a
day of torment for us and for our poor beasts. Two of our brave
horses sank from exhaustion, and could go no farther, though
relieved of their burdens; we were obliged to leave the poor
creatures to perish by the wayside.
At three in the afternoon we at length arrived at Beyrout, after
having bravely encountered, during ten consecutive days, the toil
and hardship inseparable from a journey through Syria.
The distance from Jerusalem to Beyrout is about 200 miles, allowing
for the circuitous route by way of Tabarith, which travellers are
not, however, compelled to take. From Jerusalem to Nazareth is 54
miles; from Nazareth across Mount Tabor to Tabarith and back again
31 miles; from Nazareth to Mount Carmel, Haifas, and Acre, 46 miles;
and from Acre to Beyrout 69 miles; making the total 200 miles.
Our poor horses suffered dreadfully during this journey; for they
were continually obliged either to climb over rocks, stones, and
mountains, or to wade through hot sand, in which they sank above the
fetlocks at every step. It would have been a better plan had we
only engaged our horses from Jerusalem to Nazareth, where we could
have procured fresh ones to carry us on to Beyrout. We had been
told at Jerusalem that it was sometimes impossible to obtain horses
at Nazareth, and so preferred engaging our beasts at once for the
whole journey. On arriving at Nazareth we certainly discovered that
we had been deceived, for horses are always to be had there in
plenty; but as the contract was once made, we were obliged to abide
by it.
During the ten days of our journey the temperature varied
exceedingly. By day the heat fluctuated between 18 and 39 degrees
Reaumur; the nights too were very changeable, being sometimes
sultry, and sometimes bitterly cold.
BEYROUT
lies in a sandy plain; but the mulberry-trees by which it is
surrounded impart to this city an air of picturesque beauty. Still
we wade every where, in the streets, gardens, and alleys, through
deep sand. Viewed from a distance, Beyrout has a striking effect, a
circumstance I had remarked on my first arrival there from
Constantinople; but it loses considerably on a nearer approach. I
did not enjoy walking through the town and its environs; but it was
a great pleasure to me to sit on a high terrace in the evening, and
look down upon the landscape. The dark-blue sky rose above the
distant mountains, the fruitful valley, and the glittering expanse
of ocean. The golden sun was still illumining the peaks of the
mountains with its farewell rays, until at length it sunk from view,
shrouding every thing in a soft twilight. Then I saw the
innumerable stars shine forth, and the moon shed its magic light
over the nocturnal landscape; and that mind can scarcely be called
human which does not feel the stirring of better feelings within it
at such a spectacle. Truly the temple of the Lord is every where;
and throughout all nature there is a mysterious something that tells
even the infidel of the omnipresence of the Great Spirit. How many
beautiful evenings did I not enjoy at Beyrout! they were, in fact,
the only compensation for the grievous hardships I was obliged to
endure during my stay in this town.
In the inn I could again not find a single room, and was this time
much more at a loss to find a place of shelter than I had been
before; for our host's wife had gone out of town with her children,
and had let her private house; so I sat, in the fullest sense of the
word, "in the street." A clergyman, whose acquaintance I had made
in Constantinople, and who happened just then to be at Beyrout, took
compassion upon me, and procured me a lodging in the house of a
worthy Arab family just outside the town. Now I certainly had a
roof above my head, but I could not make myself understood; for not
a soul spoke Italian, and my whole knowledge of Arabic was comprised
in the four words: taib, moi, sut, mafish--beautiful, water, milk,
and nothing.
With so limited a stock of expressions at my command, I naturally
could not make much way, and the next day I was placed in a very
disagreeable dilemma. I had hired a boy to show me the way to a
church, and explained to him by signs that he was to wait to conduct
me home again. On emerging from the church I could see nothing of
my guide. After waiting for some time in vain, I was at length
compelled to try and find my way alone.
The house in which I lived stood in a garden of mulberry-trees, but
all the houses in the neighbourhood were built in the same style,
each having a tower attached, in which there is a habitable room;
all these dwellings stand in gardens planted with mulberry-trees,
some of them not separated from each other at all, and the rest
merely by little sand-hills. Flowers and vegetables are nowhere to
be seen, nor is the suburb divided into regular streets; so that I
wandered in an endless labyrinth of trees and houses. I met none
but Arabs, whose language I did not understand, and who could,
therefore, give me no information. So I rushed to and fro, until at
length, after a long and fatiguing pilgrimage, I was lucky enough to
stumble on the house I wanted. Unwilling to expose myself to such a
disagreeable adventure a second time, I thought it would be
preferable to dwell within the town; and therefore hired the young
guide before mentioned to conduct me to the house of the Austrian
Consul-General Herr von A. Unfortunately this gentleman was not
visible to such an insignificant personage as myself, and sent me
word that I might come again in a few hours. This was a true "Job's
message" for me, as far as consolation went. The heat was most
oppressive; I had now entered the town for the second time, to be
sent once more back to the glowing sands, with permission to "come
again in a few hours." Had I not been uncommonly hardy, I should
have succumbed. But luckily I knew a method to help myself. I
ordered my little guide to lead me to the house in which the wife of
Battista the innkeeper had lived.
During my previous residence at Beyrout I had accidentally heard
that a French lady lodged in the same house, and occupied herself
with the education of the children. I went to call on this French
lady, and was lucky enough to find her; so I had, at any rate, so
far succeeded that I had found a being with whom I could converse,
and of whom I might request advice and assistance. My new
acquaintance was an extremely cordial maiden lady about forty years
of age. Her name was Pauline Kandis. My unfortunate position
awakened her compassion so much, that she placed her own room at my
disposal for the time being. I certainly saw that my present
quarters left much to be desired, for my kind entertainer's lodging
consisted of a single room, divided into two parts by several tall
chests; the foremost division contained a large table, at which four
girls sat and stood at their lessons. The second division formed a
kind of lumber-room, redolent of boxes, baskets, and pots, and
furnished with a board, laid on an old tub, to answer the purposes
of a table. My condition was, however, so forlorn, that I took
joyful possession of the lumber-room assigned to me. I immediately
departed with my boy-guide, and by noon I was already installed,
with bag and baggage, in the dwelling of my kind hostess. But there
was no more walking for me that day. What with the journey and my
morning's peregrinations I was so exhausted that I requested nothing
but a resting-place, which I found among the old chests and baskets
on the floor. I was right glad to lie down, and court the rest that
I needed so much.
At seven o'clock in the evening the school closed. Miss K. then
took her leave, and I remained sole occupant of her two rooms, which
she only uses as school-rooms, for she sleeps at her brother's
house.
My lodging at Miss K.'s was, however, the most uncomfortable of any
I had yet occupied during my entire journey.
From eight o'clock in the morning until seven at night four or five
girls, who did any thing rather than study, were continually in the
room. The whole day long there was such a noise of shouting,
screaming, and jumping about, that I could not hear the sound of my
own voice. Moreover, the higher regions of this hall of audience
contained eight pigeons' nests; and the old birds, which were so
tame that they not only took the food from our plates, but stole it
out of our very mouths, fluttered continually about the room, so
that we were obliged to look very attentively at every chair on
which we intended to sit down. On the floor a cock was continually
fighting with his three wives; and a motherly hen, with a brood of
eleven hopeful ducks, cackled merrily between. I wonder that I did
not contract a squint, for I was obliged continually to look upwards
and downwards lest I should cause mischief, and lest mischief should
befall me. During the night the heat and the stench were almost
insupportable; and immediately after midnight the cock always began
to crow, as if he earned his living by the noise he made. I used to
open the window every night to make a passage of escape for the heat
and the foul air, while I lay down before the door, like Napoleon's
Mameluke, to guard the treasures entrusted to my care. But on the
second night two wandering cats had already discovered my
whereabouts--without the least compunction they stepped quietly over
me into the chamber, and began to raise a murderous chase. I
instantly jumped up and drove away the robbers; and from that time
forward I was obliged to remain in the interior of my fortress,
carefully to barricade all the windows, and bear my torments with
what fortitude I might.
Our diet was also of a very light description. A sister-in-law of
the good Pauline was accustomed to send in our dinner, which
consisted one day of a thimbleful of saffron-coloured pilau, while
the next would perhaps bring half the shoulder of a small fish. Had
I boarded with my hostess, I should have kept fast-day five days in
the week, and have had nothing to eat on the remaining two. I
therefore at once left off dining with them, and used to cook a good
German dish for myself every day. In the morning I asked for some
milk, in order to make my coffee after the German fashion. Yet I
think that some of our adulterators of milk must have penetrated
even to Syria, for I found it as difficult to obtain pure goats'
milk here as to get good milk from the cow in my own country.
My bedstead was formed out of an old chest, and my sole employment
and amusement was idling. I had not a book to read, no table to
write on; and if I once really succeeded in getting something to
read or made an attempt at writing, the whole tribe of youngsters
would come clustering round, staring at my book or at my paper. It
would certainly have been useless to complain, but yet I could not
always entirely conceal the annoyance I felt.
My friends must pardon me for describing my cares so minutely, but I
only do so to warn all those who would wish to undertake a journey
like mine, without being either very rich, very high-born, or very
hardy, that they had much better remain at home.
As I happened to be neither rich nor high-born, the Consul would not
receive me at all the first time I called upon him, although the
captain of a steamer had been admitted to an audience just before I
applied. A few days afterwards I once more waited upon the Consul,
told him of my troubles, and stated plainly how thankful I should
feel if any one would assist me so far as to procure me a
respectable lodging, for which I would gladly pay, and where I could
remain until an opportunity offered to go to Alexandria; the worthy
Consul was kind enough to reply to my request with a shake of the
head, and with the comforting admission that "he was very sorry for
me--it was really extremely unfortunate." I think the good
gentleman must have left all his feeling at home before settling in
Syria, otherwise he would never have dismissed me with a few
frivolous speeches, particularly as I assured him that I was
perfectly well provided with money, and would bear any expense, but
added that it was possible to be placed in positions where want of
advice was more keenly felt than want of means. During the whole of
my residence at Beyrout, my countryman never troubled himself any
more about me.
During my stay here I made an excursion to the grotto, said to be
the scene of St. George's combat with the dragon; this grotto is
situate to the right of the road, near the quarantine-house. The
ride thither offers many fine views, but the grotto itself is not
worth seeing.
Frequently in the evening I went to visit an Arab family, when I
would sit upon the top of the tower and enjoy the sight of the
beautiful sunset.
A very strong military force was posted at Beyrout, consisting
entirely of Arnauts. They had pitched their tents outside the town,
which thus wore the appearance of a camp. Many of these towns do
not contain barracks; and as the soldiers are not here quartered in
private houses, they are compelled to bivouack in the open field.
The bazaar is very large and straggling. On one occasion I had the
misfortune to lose myself among its numerous lanes, from which it
took me some time to extricate myself; I had an opportunity of
seeing many of the articles of merchandise, and an immense number of
shops, but none which contained any thing very remarkable. Once
more I found how prone people are to exaggerate. I had been warned
to abstain from walking in the streets, and, above all, to avoid
venturing into the bazaar. I neglected both pieces of advice, and
walked out once or twice every day during my stay, without once
meeting with an adventure of any kind.
I had already been at Beyrout ten long, long days, and still no
opportunity offered of getting to Alexandria. But at the end of
June the worthy artist Sattler, whose acquaintance I had made at
Constantinople, arrived here. He found me out, and proposed that I
should travel to Damascus with Count Berchtold, a French gentleman
of the name of De Rousseau, and himself, instead of wasting my time
here. This proposition was a welcome one to me, for I ardently
desired to be released from my fowls' nest. My arrangements were
soon completed, for I took nothing with me except some linen and a
mattress, which were packed on my horse's back.
JOURNEY FROM BEYROUT TO DAMASCUS, BALBECK, AND MOUNT LEBANON.
July 1st.
At one o'clock in the afternoon we were all assembled before the
door of M. Battista's inn, and an hour later we were in our saddles
hastening towards the town-gate. At first we rode through a deep
sea of sand surrounding the town; but soon we reached the beautiful
valley which lies stretched at the foot of the Anti-Libanus, and
afterwards proceeded towards the range by pleasant paths, shaded by
pine-woods and mulberry-plantations.
But now the ascent of the magnificent Anti-Libanus became steeper
and more dangerous, as we advanced on rocky paths, often scarcely a
foot in breadth, and frequently crossed by fissures and brooklets.
Some time elapsed before I could quite subdue my fear, and could
deliver myself wholly up to the delight of contemplating these grand
scenes, so completely new to us Europeans, leaving my horse, which
planted its feet firmly and without once stumbling among the blocks
of stone lying loosely on each other, to carry me as its instinct
directed; for these horses are exceedingly careful, being well used
to these dangerous roads. We could not help laughing heartily at
our French companion, who could not screw up his courage
sufficiently to remain on his horse at the very dangerous points.
At first he always dismounted when we came to such a spot; but at
length he grew weary of eternally mounting and dismounting, and
conquered his fear, particularly when he observed that we depended
so entirely on the sagacity of our steeds, and gave ourselves
completely up to the contemplation of the mountains around us. It
is impossible adequately to describe the incomparable forms of this
mountain-range. The giant rocks, piled one above the other, glow
with the richest colours; lovely green valleys lie scattered
between; while numerous villages are seen, sometimes standing
isolated on the rocks, and at others peering forth from among the
deep shade of the olive and mulberry trees.
[Illustration 6. Lebanon. ill6.jpg]
The sun sinking into the sea shot its last rays through the clear
pure air towards the highest peaks of the mighty rocks. Every thing
united to form a picture which when once seen can never be
forgotten.
The tints of the rocky masses are peculiarly remarkable; exhibiting
not only the primary colours, but many gradations, such as bluish-
green, violet, etc. Many rocks were covered with a red coating
resembling cinnabar, in several places we found small veins of pure
sulphur, and each moment something new and wonderful met our gaze.
The five hours which we occupied in riding from Beyrout to the
village of Elhemsin passed like five minutes. The khan of Elhemsin
was already occupied by a caravan bringing wares and fruit from
Damascus, so that we had nothing for it but to raise our tent and
encamp beneath it.
July 2d.
The rising sun found us prepared for departure, and soon we had
reached an acclivity from whence we enjoyed a magnificent view.
Before us rose the lofty peaks of Lebanon and Anti-Libanus, partly
covered with snow; while behind us the mountains, rich in vineyards,
olive-plantations, and pine-woods, stretched downward to the sea-
shore. We had mounted to such a height, that the clouds soaring
above the sea and the town of Beyrout lay far beneath us, shrouding
the city from our gaze.
Vineyards are very common on these mountains. The vines do not,
however, cling round trees for support, nor are they trained up
poles as in Austria; they grow almost wild, the stem shooting
upwards to a short distance from the ground, towards which the vine
then bends. The wine made on these mountains is of excellent
quality, rather sweet in flavour, of a golden-yellow colour, and
exceedingly fiery.
We still continued to climb, without experiencing much inconvenience
from the heat, up a fearful dizzy path, over rocks and stones, and
past frightful chasms. Our leathern bottles were here useless to
us, for we had no lack of water; from every crevice in the rocks a
clear crystal flood gushed forth, in which the gorgeously-coloured
masses of stone were beautifully mirrored.
After a very fatiguing ride of five hours we at length reached the
ridge of the Anti-Libanus, where we found a khan, and allowed
ourselves an hour's rest. The view from this point is very
splendid. The two loftiest mountain-ridges of Lebanon and Anti-
Libanus enclose between them a valley which may be about six miles
long, and ten or twelve broad. Our way led across the mountain's
brow and down into this picturesque valley, through which we
journeyed for some miles to the village of Maschdalanscher, in the
neighbourhood of which place we pitched our tents.
It is, of course, seldom that a European woman is seen in these
regions, and thus I seemed to be quite a spectacle to the
inhabitants; at every place where we halted many women and children
would gather round me, busily feeling my dress, putting on my straw
hat, and looking at me from all sides, while they endeavoured to
converse with me by signs. If they happened to have any thing
eatable at hand, such as cucumbers, fruits, or articles of that
description, they never failed to offer them with the greatest good-
nature, and seemed highly rejoiced when I accepted some. On the
present evening several of these people were assembled round me, and
I had an opportunity of noticing the costume of this mountain tribe.
Excepting the head-dress, it is the same as that worn throughout all
Palestine, and indeed in the whole of Syria; the women have blue
gowns, and the men, white blouses, wide trousers, and a sash:
sometimes the women wear spencers, and the more wealthy among them
even display caftans and turbans. The head-dress of the women is
very original, but does not look remarkably becoming. They wear on
their foreheads a tin horn more than a foot in length, and over this
a white handkerchief, fastened at the back and hanging down in
folds. This rule, however, only applies to the wealthier portion of
the community, which is here limited enough. The poorer women wear
a much smaller horn, over which they display an exceedingly dingy
handkerchief. During working hours they ordinarily divest
themselves of these ornaments, as they would render it impossible to
carry loads on the head. The rich inhabitants of the mountains,
both male and female, dress in the Oriental fashion; but the women
still retain the horn, which is then made of silver.
The village of Maschdalanscher is built of clay huts thatched with
straw. I saw many goats and horned cattle, and a good store of corn
lay piled up before the doors.
We were assured that the roads through the mountains inhabited by
the Druses and Maronites were very unsafe, and we were strongly
urged to take an escort with us; but as we met caravans almost every
hour, we considered this an unnecessary precaution, and arrived
safely without adventure of any kind at Damascus.
July 3d.
This morning we rode at first over a very good road, till at length
we came upon a ravine, which seemed hardly to afford us room to
pass. Closer and more closely yet did the rocky masses approach
each other, as we passed amongst the loose shingle over the dry bed
of a river. Frequently the space hardly admitted of our stepping
aside to allow the caravans we met to pass us. Sometimes we
thought, after having painfully laboured through a ravine of this
kind, that we should emerge into the open field; but each time it
was only to enter a wilder and more desert pass. So we proceeded
for some hours, till the rocky masses changed to heaps of sand, and
every trace of vegetation disappeared. At length we had climbed the
last hill, and Damascus, "the vaunted city of the East," lay before
us.
It is certainly a striking sight when, escaping from the
inhospitable domains of the mountain and the sandhill, we see
stretched at our feet a great and luxuriant valley, forming in the
freshness of its vegetation a singular contrast to the desert region
around. In this valley, amid gardens and trees innumerable, extends
the town, with its pretty mosques and slender lofty minarets; but I
was far from finding the scene so charming that I could have
exclaimed with other travellers, "This is the most beauteous spot on
earth!"
The plain in which Damascus lies runs on at the foot of the Anti-
Libanus as far as the mountain of Scheik, and is shut in on three
sides by sandhills of an incomparably dreary appearance. On the
fourth side the plain loses itself in the sandy desert. This valley
is exceedingly well watered by springs descending from all the
mountains, which we could not, however, see on our approach; but no
river exists here. The water rushes forth but to disappear beneath
the sand, and displays its richness only in the town and its
immediate neighbourhood.
From the hill whence we had obtained the first view of Damascus, we
have still a good two miles to ride before we reach the plantations.
These are large gardens of mish-mish, walnut, pomegranate, orange,
and lemon trees, fenced in with clay walls, traversed by long broad
streets, and watered by bubbling brooks. For a long time we
journeyed on in the shade of these fruitful woods, till at length we
entered the town through a large gate. Our enthusiastic conceptions
of this renowned city were more and more toned down as we continued
to advance.
The houses in Damascus are almost all built of clay and earth, and
many ugly wooden gables and heavy window-frames give a disagreeable
ponderous air to the whole. Damascus is divided into several parts
by gates, which are closed soon after sunset. We passed through a
number of these gates, and also through the greater portion of the
bazaar, on our road to the Franciscan convent.
We had this day accomplished a journey of more than twenty-four
miles, in a temperature of 35 to 36 degrees Reaum., and had suffered
much from the scorching wind, which came laden with particles of
dust. Our faces were so browned, that we might easily have been
taken for descendants of the Bedouins. This was the only day that I
felt my eyes affected by the glare.
Although we were much fatigued on arriving at the convent, the first
thing we did, after cleansing ourselves from dust and washing our
burning eyes, was to hasten to the French and English consuls, so
eager were we to see the interior of some of these clay huts.
A low door brought us into a passage leading to a large yard. We
could have fancied ourselves transported by magic to the scene of
one of the fantastic "Arabian Nights," for all the glory of the East
seemed spread before our delighted gaze. In the midst of the
courtyard, which was paved with large stones, a large reservoir,
with a sparkling fountain, spread a delightful coolness around.
Orange and lemon trees dipped their golden fruit into the crystal
flood; while at the sides flower-beds, filled with fragrant roses,
balsams, oleanders, etc., extended to the stairs leading to the
reception-room. Every thing seemed to have been done that could
contribute to ornament this large and lofty apartment, which opened
into the courtyard. Swelling divans, covered with the richest
stuffs, lined the walls, which, tastefully ornamented with mirrors
and painted and sculptured arabesques, and further decked with
mosaic and gilding, displayed a magnificence of which I could not
have formed a conception. In the foreground of this fairy apartment
a jet of water shot upwards from a marble basin. The floor was also
of marble, forming beautiful pictures in the most varied colours;
and over the whole scene was spread that charm so peculiar to the
Orientals, a charm combining the tasteful with the rich and
gorgeous. The apartment in which the women dwell, and where they
receive their more confidential visitors, are similar to the one I
have just described, except that they are smaller, less richly
furnished, and completely open in front. The remaining apartments
also look into the courtyard; they are simply, but comfortably and
prettily arranged.
All the houses of the Orientals are similar to this one, except that
the apartments of the women open into another courtyard than those
of the men.
After examining and admiring every thing to our heart's content, we
returned to our hospitable convent. This evening the clerical
gentlemen entertained us. A tolerably nice meal, with wine and good
bread, restored our exhausted energies to a certain extent.
At Beyrout we were quite alarmed at the warnings we received
concerning the numbers of certain creeping things we should find
here in the bedsteads. I therefore betook myself to bed with many
qualms and misgivings; but I slept undisturbed, both on this night
and on the following one.
CHAPTER XII.
The bazaar at Damascus--The khan--Grotto of St. Paul--Fanaticism of
the inhabitants--Departure from Damascus--The desert--Military
escort--Heliopolis or Balbeck--Stupendous ruins--Continuation of our
voyage through the desert--The plague--The Lebanon range--Cedar-
trees--Druses and Maronites--Importunate beggars--Thievish
propensities of the Arabs.
July 4th.
Damascus is one of the most ancient cities of the East, but yet we
see no ruins; a proof that no grand buildings ever existed here, and
that therefore the houses, as they became old and useless, were
replaced by new ones.
To-day we visited the seat of all the riches--the great bazaar. It
is mostly covered in, but only with beams and straw mats. On both
sides are rows of wooden booths, containing all kinds of articles,
but a great preponderance of eatables, which are sold at an
extraordinarily cheap rate. We found the "mish-mish" particularly
good.
As in Constantinople, the rarest and most costly of the wares are
not exposed for sale, but must be sought for in closed store-houses.
The booths look like inferior hucksters' shops, and each merchant is
seen sitting in the midst of his goods. We passed hastily through
the bazaar, in order soon to reach the great mosque, situate in the
midst of it. As we were forbidden, however, not only to enter the
mosque, but even the courtyard, we were obliged to content ourselves
with wondering at the immense portals, and stealing furtive glances
at the interior of the open space beyond. This mosque was
originally a Christian church; and a legend tells that St. George
was decapitated here.
The khan, also situate in the midst of the bazaar, is peculiarly
fine, and is said to be the best in all the East. The high and
boldly-arched portal is covered with marble, and enriched with
beautiful sculptures. The interior forms a vast rotunda, surrounded
by galleries, divided from each other, and furnished with writing-
tables for the use of the merchants. Below in the hall the bales
and chests are piled up, and at the side are apartments for
travelling dealers. The greater portion of the floor and the walls
is covered with marble.
Altogether, marble seems to be much sought after at Damascus. Every
thing that passes for beautiful or valuable is either entirely
composed of this stone, or at least is inlaid with it. Thus a
pretty fountain in a little square near the bazaar is of marble; and
a coffee-house opposite the fountain, the largest and most
frequented of any in Damascus, is ornamented with a few small marble
pillars. But all these buildings, not even excepting the great
bathing-house, would be far less praised and looked at if they stood
in a better neighbourhood. As the case is, however, they shine
forth nobly from among the clay houses of Damascus.
In the afternoon we visited the Grotto of St. Paul, lying
immediately outside the town. On the ramparts we were shewn the
place where the apostle is said to have leaped from the wall on
horseback, reaching the ground in safety, and taking refuge from his
enemies in the neighbouring grotto, which is said to have closed
behind him by miracle, and not to have opened again until his
persecutors had ceased their pursuit. At present, nothing is to be
seen of this grotto excepting a small stone archway, like that of a
bridge. Tombs of modern date, consisting of vaults covered with
large blocks of stone, are very numerous near this grotto.
We paid several more visits, and every where found great pomp of
inner arrangement and decoration, varying of course in different
houses. We were always served with coffee, sherbet, and argile; and
in the houses of the Turks a dreary conversation was carried on
through the medium of an interpreter.
Walks and places of amusement there are none. The number of Franks
resident here is too small to call for a place of general
recreation, and the Turk never feels a want of this kind. The most
he does is to saunter slowly from the bath to the coffee-house, and
there to kill his time with the help of a pipe and a cup of coffee,
staring vacantly on the ground before him. Although the coffee-
houses are more frequented than any other buildings in the East,
they are often miserable sheds, being all small, and generally built
only of wood.
The inhabitants of Damascus wear the usual Oriental garb, but as a
rule I thought them better dressed than in any Eastern town. Some
of the women are veiled, but others go abroad with their faces
uncovered. I saw here some very attractive countenances; and an
unusual number of lovely children's heads looked at me from all
sides with an inquisitive smile.
In reference to religious matters, these people seem very fanatical;
they particularly dislike strangers. For instance, the painter S.
wished to make sketches of the khan, the fountain, and a few other
interesting objects or views. For this purpose he sat down before
the great coffee-house to begin with the fountain; but scarcely had
he opened his portfolio before a crowd of curious idlers had
gathered around him, who, as soon as they saw his intention, began
to annoy him in every possible way. They pushed the children who
stood near against him, so that he received a shock every moment,
and was hindered in his drawing. As he continued to work in spite
of their rudeness, several Turks came and stood directly before the
painter, to prevent him from seeing the fountain. On his still
continuing to persevere, they began to spit upon him. It was now
high time to be gone, and so Mr. S. hastily gathered his materials
together and turned to depart. Then the rage of the rabble broke
noisily forth. They followed the artist yelling and screaming, and
a few even threw stones at him. Luckily he succeeded in reaching
our convent unharmed.
Mr. S. had been allowed to draw without opposition at
Constantinople, Brussa, Ephesus, and several other cities of the
East, but here he was obliged to flee. Such is the disposition of
these people, whom many describe as being so friendly.
The following morning at sunrise Mr. S. betook himself to the
terrace of the convent, to make a sketch of the town. Here too he
was discovered, but luckily not until he had been at work some
hours, and had almost completed his task; so that as soon as the
first stone came flying towards him, he was able quietly to evacuate
the field.
July 5th.
In Damascus we met Count Zichy, who had arrived there with his
servants a few days before ourselves, and intended continuing his
journey to Balbeck to-day.
Count Zichy's original intention had been to make an excursion from
this place to the celebrated town of Palmyra, an undertaking which
would have occupied ten days. He therefore applied to the pacha for
a sufficient escort for his excursion. This request was, however,
refused; the pacha observing, that he had ceased for some time to
allow travellers to undertake this dangerous journey, as until now
all strangers had been plundered by the wandering Arabs, and in some
instances men had even been murdered. The pacha added, that it was
not in his power to furnish so large an escort as would be required
to render this journey safe, by enabling the travellers to resist
all aggressions. After receiving this answer, Count Zichy
communicated with some Bedouin chiefs, who could not guarantee a
safe journey, but nevertheless required 6000 piastres for
accompanying him. Thus it became necessary to give up the idea
altogether, and to proceed instead to Balbeck and to the heights of
Lebanon.
At the hour of noon we rode out of the gate of Damascus in company
with Count Zichy. The thermometer stood at 40 degrees Reaumur. Our
procession presented quite a splendid appearance; for the pacha had
sent a guard of honour to escort the Count to Balbeck, to testify
his respect for a relation of Prince M---.
At first our way led through a portion of the bazaar; afterwards we
reached a large and splendid street which traverses the entire city,
and is said to be more than four miles in length. It is so broad,
that three carriages can pass each other with ease, without
annoyance to the pedestrians. It is a pity that this street, which
is probably the finest in the whole kingdom, should be so little
used, for carriages are not seen here any more than in the remaining
portion of Syria.
Scarcely have we quitted this road, before we are riding through
gardens and meadows, among which the country-houses of the citizens
lie scattered here and there. On this side of the city springs also
gush forth and water the fresh groves and the grassy sward. A stone
bridge, of very simple construction, led us across the largest
stream in the neighbourhood, the Barada, which is, however, neither
so broad nor so full of water as the Jordan.
But soon we had left these smiling scenes behind us, and were
wending our way towards the lonely desert. We passed several
sepulchres, a number of which lie scattered over the sandy hills and
plains round us. On the summit of one of these hills a little
monument was pointed out to us, with the assertion that it was the
grave of Abraham. We now rode for hours over flats, hills, and
ridges of sand and loose stones; and this day's journey was as
fatiguing as that of our arrival at Damascus. From twelve o'clock
at noon until about five in the evening we continued our journey
through this wilderness, suffering lamentably from the heat. But
now the wilderness was passed; and suddenly a picture so lovely and
grand unfolded itself before our gaze, that we could have fancied
ourselves transported to the romantic vales of Switzerland. A
valley enriched with every charm of nature, and shut in by gigantic
rocks of marvellous and fantastic forms, opened at our feet. A
mountain torrent gushed from rock to rock, foaming and chafing among
mighty blocks of stone, which, hurled from above, had here found
their resting-place. A natural rocky bridge led across the roaring
flood. Many a friendly hut, the inhabitants of which looked forth
with stealthy curiosity upon the strange visitors, lay half hidden
between the lofty walls. And so our way continued; valley lay
bordered on valley, and the little river which ran bubbling by the
roadside led us past gardens and villages, through a region of
surpassing loveliness, to the great village of Zabdeni, where we at
length halted, after an uninterrupted ride of ten hours and a half.
The escort which accompanied us consisted of twelve men, with a
superior and a petty officer. These troopers looked very
picturesque when, as we travelled along the level road, they went
through some small manoeuvres for our amusement, rushing along on
their swift steeds and attacking each other, one party flying across
the plain, and the other pursuing them as victors.
The character of these children of nature is, on the whole, a very
amiable one. They behaved towards us in an exceedingly friendly and
courteous manner, bringing us fruit and water whenever they could
procure them, leading us carefully by the safest roads, and shewing
us as much attention as any European could have done. But their
idea of _mine_ and _thine_ does not always appear to be very clearly
defined. Once, for instance, we passed through fields in which grew
a plant resembling our pea, on a reduced scale. Each plant
contained several pods, and each pod two peas. Our escort picked a
large quantity, ate the fruit with an appearance of great relish,
and very politely gave us a share of their prize. I found these
peas less tender and eatable than those of my own country, and
returned them to the soldier who had offered them to me, observing
at the same time that I would rather have had mish-mish. On hearing
this he immediately galloped off, and shortly afterwards returned
with a whole cargo of mish-mish and little apples, which had
probably been borrowed for an indefinite period from one of the
neighbouring gardens. I mention these little circumstances, as they
appeared to me to be characteristic. On the one hand, Mr. S. had
been threatened with the fate of St. Stephen for wishing to make a
few sketches; and yet, on the other, these people were so kind and
so ready to oblige.
This region produces abundance of fruit, and is particularly rich in
mish-mish, or apricots. The finest of these are dried; while those
which are over-ripe, or half decayed, are boiled to a pulp in large
pots, and afterwards spread to dry on long smooth boards, in the
form of cakes, about half an inch in thickness. These cakes, which
look like coarse brown leather, are afterwards folded up, and form,
together with the dried mish-mish, a staple article of commerce,
which is exported far and wide. In Constantinople, and even in
Servia, I saw cakes of this description which came from these parts.
The Turks are particularly fond of taking this dried pulp with them
on their journeys. They cut it into little pieces, which they
afterwards leave for several hours in a cup of water to dissolve; it
then forms a really aromatic and refreshing drink, which they
partake of with bread.
From Damascus to Balbeck is a ride of eighteen hours. Count Zichy
wished to be in Balbeck by the next day at noon; we therefore had
but a short night's rest.
The night was so mild and beautiful, that we did not want the tents
at all, but lay down on the bank of a streamlet, beneath the shade
of a large tree. For a long time sleep refused to visit us, for our
encampment was opposite to a coffee-house, where a great hubbub was
kept up until a very late hour. Small caravans were continually
arriving or departing, and so there was no chance of rest. At
length we dropped quietly asleep from very weariness, to be awakened
a few hours afterwards to start once more on our arduous journey.
July 6th.
We rode without halting for eight hours, sometimes through pleasant
valleys, at others over barren unvarying regions, upon and between
the heights of the Anti-Libanus. At the hour of noon we reached the
last hill, and
HELIOPOLIS OR BALBECK,
the "city of the sun," lay stretched before us.
We entered a valley shut in by the highest snow-covered peaks of
Lebanon and Anti-Libanus, more than six miles in breadth and
fourteen or sixteen miles long, belonging to Caelosyria. Many
travellers praise this vale as one of the most beautiful in all
Syria.
It certainly deserves the title of the 'most remarkable' valley, for
excepting at Thebes and Palmyra we may search in vain for the grand
antique ruins which are here met with; the title of the 'most
beautiful' does not, according to my idea, appertain to it. The
mountains around are desert and bare. The immeasurable plain is
sparingly cultivated, and still more thinly peopled. With the
exception of the town of Balbeck, which has arisen from the ruins of
the ancient city, not a village nor a hut is to be seen. The corn,
which still partly covered the fields, looked stunted and poor; the
beds of the streams were dry, and the grass was burnt up. The
majestic ruins, which become visible directly the brow of the last
hill is gained, atone in a measure for these drawbacks; but we were
not satisfied, for we had expected to see much more than met our
gaze.
We wended our way along stony paths, past several quarries, towards
the ruins. On reaching these quarries we dismounted, to obtain a
closer view of them. In the right hand one lies a colossal block of
stone, cut and shaped on all sides; it is sixty feet in length,
eighteen in breadth, and thirteen in diameter. This giant block was
probably intended to form part of the Cyclops wall surrounding the
Temple of the Sun, for we afterwards noticed several stones of equal
length and breadth among the ruins. Another to the left side of the
road was remarkable for several grottoes and fragments of rock
picturesquely grouped.
We had sent our horses on to the convent, and now hastened towards
the ruined temples. At the foot of a little acclivity a wall rose
lofty and majestic; it was constructed of colossal blocks of rock,
which seemed to rest firmly upon each other by their own weight,
without requiring the aid of mortar. Three of these stones were
exactly the size of one we had seen in the quarry. Many appeared to
be sixty feet in length, and broad and thick in proportion. This is
the Cyclops wall surrounding the hill on which the temples stand. A
difficult path, over piled-up fragments of marble and pieces of rock
and rubbish, serves as a natural rampart against the intrusion of
camels and horses; and this circumstance alone has prevented these
sanctuaries of the heathen deities from being converted into dirty
stables.
When we had once passed this obstruction, delight and wonder
arrested our footsteps. For some moments our glances wandered
irresolutely from point to point; we could fix our attention on
nothing, so great was the number of beauties surrounding us:
splendid architecture--arches rising boldly into the air, supported
on lofty pillars--every thing wore an air so severely classic, and
yet all was gorgeously elegant, and at the same time perfectly
tasteful.
At first we reviewed every thing in a very hasty manner, for our
impulse hurried us along, and we wished to take in every thing at
one glance. Afterwards we began a new and a more deliberate survey.
As we enter a large open courtyard, our eye is caught by numerous
pieces of marble and fragments of columns, some of the latter
resting on tastefully sculptured plinths. Almost every thing here
is prostrate, covered with rubbish and broken fragments, but yet all
looks grand and majestic in its ruin. We next enter a second and a
larger courtyard, above two hundred paces in length and about a
hundred in breadth. Round the walls are niches cut in marble, and
ornamented with the prettiest arabesques. These niches were
probably occupied in former times by statues of the numerous heathen
gods. Behind these are little cells, the dwellings of the priests;
and in the foreground rise six Corinthian pillars, the only trace
left of the great Temple of the Sun. These six pillars, which have
hitherto bid defiance to time, devastation, and earthquakes, are
supposed to be the loftiest and most magnificent in the world.
Nearly seventy feet in height, each pillar a rocky colossus, resting
on a basement twenty-seven feet high, covered with excellent
workmanship, a masterpiece of ancient architecture, they tower above
the Cyclops wall, and look far away into the distance--giant
monuments of the hoary past.
[Illustration 7. Balbeck. ill7.jpg]
How vast thus temple must originally have been is shewn by the
remaining pedestals, from which the pillars have fallen, and lay
strewed around in weather-stained fragments. I counted twenty such
pedestals along the length of the temple, and ten across its
breadth.
The lesser temple, separated from the greater merely by a wall, lies
deeper and more sheltered from the wind and weather; consequently it
is in better preservation. A covered hall, resting on pillars fifty
feet in height, leads round this temple. Statues of gods and
heroes, beautifully sculptured in marble, and surrounded by
arabesques, deck the lofty arches of this corridor. The pillars
consist of three pieces fastened together with such amazing
strength, that when the last earthquake threw down a column it did
not break, but fell with its top buried in the earth, where it is
seen leaning its majestic height against a hill.
From this hall we pass through a splendid portal into the interior
of the little sanctuary. An eagle with outspread wings overshadows
the upper part of the gate, which is thirty feet in height by twenty
in breadth. The two sides are enriched with small figures prettily
executed, in a tastefully-carved border of flowers, fruit, ears of
corn, and arabesques. This portal is in very good preservation,
excepting that the keystone has slipped from its place, and hangs
threateningly over the entrance, to the terror of all who pass
beneath. But we entered and afterwards returned unhurt, and many
will yet pass unharmed like ourselves beneath the loose stone. We
shall have returned to dust, while the pendent mass will still see
generation after generation roll on.
This lesser temple would not look small by any means, were it not
for its colossal neighbour. On one side nine, and on the other six
pillars are still erect, besides several pedestals from which the
pillars have fallen. Walls, niches, every thing around us, in fact,
is of marble, enriched with sculptured work of every kind. The
sanctuary of the Sun is separated from the nave of the temple by a
row of pillars, most of them prostrate.
To judge from what remains of both these temples, they must
originally have been decorated with profuse splendour. The
costliest statues and bas-reliefs, sculptured in a stone resembling
marble, once filled the niches and halls, and the remains of
tasteful ornaments and arabesques bear witness to the luxury which
once existed here. The only fault seems to have been a redundancy
of decoration.
A subterranean vaulted passage, two hundred and fifty paces in
length and thirty in breadth, traverses this temple. In the midst
of this walk a colossal head is hewn out of the rocky ceiling
representing probably some hero of antiquity. This place is now
converted into a stable for horses and camels!
The little brook Litany winds round the foot of the hill on which
these ruins stand.
We had been cautioned at Damascus to abstain from wandering alone
among these temples; but our interest in all we saw was so great
that we forgot the warning and our fears, and hastened to and fro
without the least protection. We spent several hours here,
exploring every corner, and meeting no one but a few curious
inhabitants, who wished to see the newly-arrived Franks. Herr S.
even wandered through the ruins at night quite alone, without
meeting with an adventure of any kind.
I am almost inclined to think that travellers sometimes detail
attacks by robbers, and dangers which they have not experienced, in
order to render their narrative more interesting. My journey was a
very long one through very dangerous regions; on some occasions I
travelled alone with only one Arab servant, and yet nothing serious
ever happened to me.
Heliopolis is in such a ruined state, that no estimate can be formed
of the pristine size and splendour of this celebrated town.
Excepting the two temples of the Sun, and a very small building in
their vicinity, built in a circular form and richly covered with
sculpture and arabesques, and a few broken pillars, not a trace of
the ancient city remains.
The present town of Balbeck is partly built on the site occupied by
its predecessor; it lies to the right of the temples, and consists
of a heap of small wretched-looking houses and huts. The largest
buildings in the place are the convent and the barracks; the latter
of these presents an exceedingly ridiculous appearance; fragments of
ancient pillars, statues, friezes, etc. having been collected from
all sides, and put together to form a modern building according to
Turkish notions of taste.
We were received into the convent, but could command no further
accommodation than an empty room and a few straw mats. Our
attendant brought us pilau, the every-day dish of the East; but to-
day he surprised us with a boiled fowl, buried beneath a heap of the
Turkish fare. Count Zichy added a few bottles of excellent wine
from Lebanon to the feast; and so we sat down to dinner without
tables or chairs, as merry as mortals need desire to be.
Here, as in most other Eastern towns, I had only to step out on the
terrace-roof of the house to cause a crowd of old and young to
collect, eager to see a Frankish woman in the costume of her
country. Whoever wishes to create a sensation, without possessing
either genius or talent, has only to betake himself, without loss of
time, to the East, and he will have his ambition gratified to the
fullest extent. But whoever has as great an objection to being
stared at as I have, will easily understand that I reckoned this
among the greatest inconveniences of my journey.
July 7th.
At five o'clock in the morning we again mounted our horses, and rode
for three hours through an immense plain, where nothing was to be
seen but scattered columns, towards the foremost promontories of the
Lebanon range. The road towards the heights was sufficiently good
and easy; we were little disturbed by the heat, and brooks caused by
the thawing of snow-fields afforded us most grateful refreshment.
In the middle of the day we took an hour's nap under the shady trees
beside a gushing stream; then we proceeded to climb the heights. As
we journeyed onwards the trees became fewer and farther between,
until at length no soil was left in which they could grow.
The way was so confined by chasms and abysses on the one side, and
walls of rock on the other, that there was scarcely room for a horse
to pass. Suddenly a loud voice before us cried, "Halt!" Startled
by the sound, we looked up to find that the call came from a
soldier, who was escorting a woman afflicted with the plague from a
village where she had been the first victim of the terrible disease
to another where it was raging fearfully. It was impossible to turn
aside; so the soldier had no resource but to drag the sick person
some paces up the steep rocky wall, and then we had to pass close by
her. The soldier called out to us to cover our mouths and noses.
He himself had anointed the lower part of his face with tar, as a
preventive against contagion.
This was the first plague-stricken person I had seen; and as we were
compelled to pass close by her, I had an opportunity of observing
the unfortunate creature closely. She was bound on an ass, appeared
resigned to her fate, and turned her sunken eyes upon us with an
aspect of indifference. I could see no trace of the terrible
disease, except a yellow appearance of the face. The soldier who
accompanied her seemed as cool and indifferent as though he were
walking beside a person in perfect health.
As the plague prevailed to a considerable extent throughout the
valleys of the Lebanon, we were frequently obliged to go some
distance out of our way to avoid the villages afflicted with the
scourge; we usually encamped for the night in the open fields, far
from any habitation.
On the whole long distance from Balbeck to the cedars of Lebanon we
found not a human habitation, excepting a little shepherd's hut near
the mountains. Not more than a mile and a half from the heights we
came upon small fields of snow. Several of our attendants
dismounted and began a snow-balling match,--a wintry scene which
reminded me of my fatherland. Although we were travelling on snow,
the temperature was so mild that not one of our party put on a
cloak. We could not imagine how it was possible for snow to exist
in such a high temperature. The thermometer stood at 9 degrees
Reaumur.
A fatiguing and dangerous ride of five hours at length brought us
from the foot to the highest point of Mount Lebanon. Here, for the
first time, we can see the magnitude and the peculiar construction
of the range.
Steep walls of rock, with isolated villages scattered here and there
like beehives, and built on natural rocky terraces, rise on all
sides; deep valleys lie between, contrasting beautifully in their
verdant freshness with the bare rocky barriers. Farther on lie
stretched elevated plateaux, with cows and goats feeding at
intervals; and in the remote distance glitters a mighty stripe of
bluish-green, encircling the landscape like a broad girdle--this is
the Mediterranean. On the flat extended coast several places can be
distinguished, among which the most remarkable is Tripoli. On the
right the "Grove of Cedars" lay at our feet.
For a long time we stood on this spot, and turned and turned again,
for fear of losing any part of this gigantic panorama. On one side
the mountain-range, with its valleys, rocks, and gorges; on the
other the immense plain of Caelosyria, on the verge of which the
ruins of the Sun-temple were visible, glittering in the noontide
rays. Then we climbed downwards and upwards, then downwards once
more, through ravines and over rocks, along a frightful path, to a
little grove of the far-famed cedars of Lebanon. In this direction
the peculiar pointed formation which constitutes the principal charm
of these mountains once more predominates.
The celebrated Grove of Cedars is distant about two miles and a half
from the summit of Lebanon; it consists of between five and six
hundred trees: about twenty of these are very aged, and five
peculiarly large and fine specimens are said to have existed in the
days of Solomon. One tree is more than twenty-five feet in
circumference; at about five feet from the ground it divides into
four portions, and forms as many good-sized trunks.
For more than an hour we rested beneath these ancient monuments of
the vegetable world. The setting sun warned us to depart speedily;
for our destination for the night was above three miles away, and it
was not prudent to travel on these fearful paths in the darkness.
Our party here separated. Count Zichy proceeded with his attendants
to Huma, while the rest of us bent our course towards Tripoli.
After a hearty leave-taking, one company turned to the right and the
other to the left.
We had hardly held on our way for half an hour, before one of the
loveliest valleys I have ever beheld opened at our feet; immense and
lofty walls of rock, of the most varied and fantastic shapes,
surrounded this fairy vale on all sides: in the foreground rose a
gigantic table-rock, on which was built a beautiful village, with a
church smiling in the midst. Suddenly the sound of chimes was borne
upwards towards us on the still clear air; they were the first I had
heard in Syria. I cannot describe the feeling of delicious emotion
this familiar sound caused in me. The Turkish government every
where prohibits the ringing of bells; but here on the mountains,
among the free Maronites, every thing is free. The sound of church-
bells is a simple earnest music for Christian ears, too intimately
associated with the usages of our religion to be heard with
indifference. Here, so far from my native country, they appeared
like links in the mysterious chain which binds the Christians of all
countries in one unity. I felt, as it were, nearer to my hearth and
to my dear ones, who were, perhaps, at the same moment listening to
similar sounds, and thinking of the distant wanderer.
The road leading into this valley was fearfully steep. We were
obliged to make a considerable detour round the lovely village of
Bscharai; for the plague was raging there, which made it forbidden
ground for us. Some distance beyond the village we pitched our camp
beside a small stream. This night we suffered much from cold and
damp.
The inhabitants of Bscharai paid us a visit for the purpose of
demanding backsheesh. We had considerable difficulty in getting rid
of them, and were obliged almost to beat them off with sticks to
escape from their contagious touch.
The practice of begging is universal in the East. So soon as an
inhabitant comes in sight, he is sure to be holding out his hand.
In those parts where poverty is every where apparent, we cannot
wonder at this importunity; but we are justly surprised when we find
it in these fruitful valleys, which offer every thing that man can
require; where the inhabitants are well clothed, and where their
stone dwellings look cheerful and commodious; where corn, the grape-
vine, the fig and mulberry tree, and even the valuable potato-plant,
which cannot flourish throughout the greater part of Syria on
account of the heat and the stony soil, are found in abundance.
Every spot of earth is carefully cultivated and turned to the best
account, so that I could have fancied myself among the industrious
German peasantry; and yet these free people beg and steal quite as
much as the Bedouins and Arabs. We were obliged to keep a sharp
watch on every thing. My riding-whip was stolen almost before my
very eyes, and one of the gentlemen had his pocket picked of his
handkerchief.
Our march to-day had been very fatiguing; we had ridden for eleven
hours, and the greater part of the road had been very bad. The
night brought us but little relaxation, for our cloaks did not
sufficiently protect us from the cold.
CHAPTER XIII.
The Lebanon--Druses and Maronites--Illness of Herr Sattler--Djebel
or Byblus--Rocky passes--Dog's-river--Return to Beyrout--Sickness--
Departure for Alexandria--Roguery of the captain--Disagreeables on
board--Limasol--Alarm of pirates--Cowardice of the crew--Arrival at
Alexandria.
July 8th.
To-day we quitted our cold hard couch at six o'clock in the morning,
and travelled agreeably for two hours through this romantic valley,
which appeared almost at every step in a new aspect of increased
beauty. Above the village a foaming stream bursts from the mighty
rocks in a beautiful waterfall, irrigates the valley, and then
vanishes imperceptibly among the windings of the ravine. Brooks
similar to this one, but smaller, leapt from the mountains round
about. On the rocky peaks we seem to behold ruined castles and
towers, but discover with astonishment, as we approach nearer, that
what we supposed to be ruins are delusive pictures, formed by the
wonderful masses of rock, grouped one above the other in the most
fantastic forms. In the depths on the one side, grottoes upon
grottoes are seen, some with their entrances half concealed, others
with gigantic portals, above which the wild rocks tower high; on the
other a rich soil is spread in the form of terraces on the rocky
cliffs, forming a lovely picture of refreshing vegetation. Had I
been a painter, it would have been difficult to tear me away from
the contemplation of these regions.
Below the greater waterfall a narrow stone bridge, without
balustrades or railing, leads across a deep ravine, through which
the stream rushes foaming, to the opposite shore. After having once
crossed, we enter upon a more inhabited tract of country, and travel
on between rows of houses and gardens. But many of the houses stood
empty, the inhabitants having fled into the fields, and there
erected huts of branches of trees, to escape the plague. The
Maronites, the real inhabitants of these mountains, are strong
people, gifted with a determined will; they cannot be easily brought
under a foreign yoke, but are ready to defend their liberty to the
death among the natural strongholds of their rocky passes. Their
religion resembles that of the Christians, and their priests are
permitted to marry. The women do not wear veils, but I saw few such
handsome countenances among them as I have frequently observed in
the Tyrol.
On the first mountain-range of Lebanon, in the direction of
Caelosyria, many Druses are found, besides a few tribes of
"Mutualis." The former incline to the Christian faith, while the
latter are generally termed "calf-worshippers." They practise their
religion so secretly, that nothing certain is known concerning it;
the general supposition is, however, that they worship their deity
under the form of a calf.
Our way led onwards, for about six miles from Bscharai, through the
beautiful valleys of the Lebanon. Then the smiling nature changed,
and we were again wandering through sterile regions. The heat, too,
became very oppressive; but every thing would have been borne
cheerfully had there not been an invalid among us.
Herr Sattler had felt rather unwell on the previous day; to-day he
grew so much worse that he could not keep his seat in his saddle,
and fell to the ground half insensible. Luckily we found a cistern
not far off, and near it some trees, beneath which we made a bed of
cloaks for our sick friend. A little water mixed with a few drops
of strong vinegar restored him to consciousness. After the lapse of
an hour, the patient was indeed able to resume his journey; but
lassitude, headache, and feverish shiverings still remained, and we
had a ride of many hours before us ere we could reach our resting-
place for the night. From every hill we climbed the ocean could be
seen at so short a distance that we thought an hour's journeying
must bring us there. But each time another mountain thrust itself
between, which it was necessary to climb. So it went on for many
hours, till at length we reached a small valley with a lofty
isolated mass of rock in the midst, crowned by a ruined castle. The
approach to this stronghold was by a flight of stairs cut in the
rock. From this point our journey lay at least over a better road,
between meadows and fruit-trees, to the little town which we reached
at night-fall. We had a long and weary search before we could
obtain for our sick comrade even a room, destitute of every
appearance of comfort. Poor Herr Sattler, more dead than alive, was
compelled, after a ride of thirteen hours, to take up his lodging on
the hard ground. The room was perfectly bare, the windows were
broken, and the door would not lock. We were fain to search for a
few boards, with which we closed up the windows, that the sick man
might at least be sheltered from the current of air.
I then prepared him a dish of rice with vinegar; this was the only
refreshment we were able to procure.
The rest of us lay down in the yard; but the anxiety we felt
concerning our sick friend prevented us from sleeping much. He
exhibited every symptom of the plague; in this short time his
countenance was quite changed; violent headache and exhaustion
prevented him from moving, and the burning heat added the pangs of
thirst to his other ills. As we had been travelling for the last
day and a half through regions where the pestilence prevailed, it
appeared but too probable that Herr Sattler had been attacked by it.
Luckily the patient himself had not any idea of the kind, and we
took especial care that he should not read our anxiety in our
countenances.
July 9th.
Heaven be praised, Herr Sattler was better to-day, though too weak
to continue his journey. As we had thus some time on our hands, the
French gentleman and I resolved to embark in a boat to witness the
operation of fishing for sponges, by which a number of the poorer
inhabitants of the Syrian coast gain their livelihood.
A fisherman rowed us about half a mile out to sea, till he came to a
place where he hoped to find something. Here he immersed a plummet
in the sea to sound its depth, and on finding that some thing was to
be gained here, he dived downwards armed with a knife to cut the
sponge he expected to find from the rocks; and after remaining below
the surface for two or three minutes, reappeared with his booty,
When first loosened from the rocks, these sponges are usually full
of shells and small stones, which give them a very strong and
disagreeable smell. They require to be thoroughly cleansed from
dirt and well washed with sea-water before being put into fresh.
After our little water-party, we sallied forth to see the town,
which is very prettily situated among plantations of mulberry-trees
in the vicinity of the sea-coast. The women here are not only
unveiled, but frequently wear their necks bare; we saw some of them
working in their gardens and washing linen; they were half
undressed. We visited the bazaar, intending to purchase a few eggs
and cucumbers for our dinner, and some oranges for our convalescent
friend. But we could not obtain any; and moderate as our wishes
were, it was out of our power to gratify them.
By the afternoon Herr Sattler had so far regained his strength, that
he could venture to undertake a short journey of ten miles to the
little town of Djaebbehl. This stage was the less difficult for our
worthy invalid from the fact that the road lay pleasantly across a
fruitful plain skirting the sea, while a cool sea-breeze took away
the oppressiveness of the heat. The majestic Lebanon bounded the
distant view on the left, and several convents on the foremost chain
of mountains looked down upon the broad vale.
We seemed to have but just mounted our horses when we already
descried the castle of the town to which we were bound rising above
its walls, and soon after halted at a large khan in its immediate
neighbourhood. There were large rooms here in plenty, but all were
empty, and the unglazed windows could not even be closed by
shutters.
Houses of entertainment of this description barely shield the
traveller from the weather. We took possession of a large entrance-
hall for our night's quarters, and made ourselves as comfortable as
we could.
Count Berchtold and I walked into the town of Djaebbehl (Byblus).
This place is, as I have already mentioned, surrounded by a wall; it
contains also a small bazaar, where we did not find much to buy.
The majority of dwellings are built in gardens of mulberry-trees.
The castle lies rather high, and is still in the condition to which
it was reduced after the siege by the English in 1840; the side
fronting the ocean has sustained most damage. This castle is now
uninhabited, but some of the lower rooms are converted into stables.
Not far off we found some fragments of ancient pillars; an
amphitheatre is said to have once stood here.
July 10th.
To-day Herr Sattler had quite recovered his health, so that we could
again commence our journey, according to custom, early in the
morning. Our road lay continually by the sea-shore. The views were
always picturesque and beautiful, as on the way from Batrun to
Djaebbehl; but to-day we had the additional luxury of frequently
coming upon brooks which flowed from the neighbouring Lebanon, and
of passing springs bursting forth near the seashore; one indeed so
close to the sea, that the waves continually dashed over it.
After riding forward for four hours, we reached the so-called
"Dog's-river," the greatest and deepest on the whole journey. This
stream also has its origin in the heights of the Lebanon, and after
a short course falls into the neighbouring sea.
At the entrance of the valley where the Dog's-river flowed lay a
simple khan. Here we made halt to rest for an hour.
Generally we got nothing to eat during the day, as we seldom or
never passed a village; even when we came upon a house, there was
rarely any thing to be had but coffee: we were therefore the more
astonished to find here fresh figs, cucumbers, butter-milk, and
wine,--things which in Syria make a feast for the gods. We revelled
in this unwonted profusion, and afterwards rode into the valley,
which smiled upon us in verdant luxuriance.
This vale cannot be more than five or six hundred feet in breadth.
On either side high walls rise towering up; and on the left we see
the ruins of an aqueduct quite overgrown with ivy. This aqueduct is
seven or eight hundred paces in length, and extends as far as the
spot where the Dog's-river rushes over rocks and stones, forming not
a lofty, but yet a fine waterfall. Just below this fall a bridge of
Roman architecture, supported boldly on rocky buttresses, unites the
two shores. The road to this bridge is by a broad flight of stone
stairs, upon which our good Syrian horses carried us in perfect
safety both upwards and downwards; it was a fearful, dizzy road.
The river derives its name from a stone lying near it, which is said
to resemble a dog in form. Stones and pieces of rock, against which
the stream rushed foaming, we saw in plenty, but none in which we
could discover any resemblance to a dog. Perhaps the contour has
been destroyed by the action of wind and weather.
Scarcely had we crossed this dangerous bridge when the road wound
sharply round a rock in the small but blooming valley, and we
journeyed towards the heights up almost perpendicular rocks, and
past abysses that overhung the sea.
The rocky mountain we were now climbing juts far out into the sea,
and forms a pass towards the territory of Beyrout which a handful of
men might easily hold against an army. Such a pass may that of
Thermopylae have been; and had these mountaineers but a Leonidas,
they would certainly not be far behind the ancient Spartans.
A Latin inscription on a massive stone slab, and higher up four
niches, two of which contain statues, while the others display
similar inscriptions, seemed to indicate that the Romans had already
known and appreciated the importance of this pass. Unfortunately
both statues and writing were so much injured by the all-destroying
hand of time, that only a man learned in these matters could have
deciphered their meaning. In our party there was no one equal to
such a task.
We rode on for another half-hour, after which the path led downwards
into the territory of Beyrout; and we rode quietly and comfortably
by the sea-side towards this city. Mulberry trees and vineyards
bloomed around us, country-houses and villages lay half hidden
between, and convents crowned the lower peaks of the Lebanon, which
on this side displays only naked rocks, the majority of a bluish-
grey colour.
At a little distance from Beyrout we came upon a second giant
bridge, similar to that over the Dog's-river. Broad staircases, on
which four or five horsemen could conveniently ride abreast, led
upwards and downwards. The steps are so steep, and lie so far
apart, that it seems almost incredible that the poor horses should
be able to ascend and descend upon them. We looked down from a
dizzy height, not upon a river, but upon a dry river-bed.
At five o'clock in the evening we arrived safely at Beyrout; and
thus ended our excursion to the "lovely and incomparable city of the
East," to the world-renowned ruin, and to the venerable Grove of
Cedars. Our tour had occupied ten days; the distance was about 180
miles; namely, from Beyrout to Damascus about 60, from Damascus to
Balbeck 40, and from Balbeck across the Lebanon to Beyrout about 80
miles.
Of four-footed beasts, amphibious creatures, birds, or insects, we
had seen nothing. Count Berchtold caught a chameleon, which
unfortunately effected its escape from its prison a few days
afterwards. At night we frequently heard the howling of jackals,
but never experienced any annoyance from them. We had not to
complain of the attacks of insects; but suffered much from the
dreadful heat, besides being frequently obliged to endure hunger and
thirst: the thermometer one day rose to 40 degrees.
In Beyrout I once more put up at the house of the kind French lady.
The first piece of news I heard was that I had arrived twenty-four
hours too late, and had thus missed the English packet-boat; this
was a most annoying circumstance, for the boat in question only
starts for Alexandria once a month (on the 8th or 9th), and at other
times it is a great chance if an opportunity of journeying thither
can be found. On the very next day I hastened to the Austrian
consulate, and begged the Vice-consul, Herr C., to let me know when
a ship was about to start for Egypt, and also to engage a place for
me. I was told that a Greek vessel would start for that country in
two or three days; but these two or three days grew into nineteen.
Never shall I forget what I had to endure in Beyrout. When I could
no longer bear the state of things at night in the Noah's ark of my
good Pauline, I used to creep through the window on to a terrace,
and sleep there; but was obliged each time to retire to my room
before daybreak lest I should be discovered. It is said that
misfortunes seldom happen singly, and my case was not an exception
to the rule. One night I must have caught cold; for in the morning
when I hastened back to my prison, and lay down on the bed to
recover from the effects of my stone couch, I experienced such an
acute pain in my back and hips that I was unable to rise. It
happened to be a Sunday morning, a day on which my kind Pauline did
not come to the house, as there was no school to keep; and so I lay
for twenty-four hours in the greatest pain, without help, unable
even to obtain a drop of water. I was totally unable to drag myself
to the door, or to the place where the water-jug stood. The next
day, I am thankful to say, I felt somewhat better; my Pauline also
came, and prepared me some mutton-broth. By the fourth day I was
once more up, and had almost recovered from the attack.
JOURNEY FROM BEYROUT TO CAIRO AND ALEXANDRIA.
It was not until the 28th of July that a Greek brig set sail for
Alexandria. At ten o'clock in the evening I betook myself on board,
and the next morning at two we weighed anchor. Never have I bid
adieu to any place with so much joy as I felt on leaving the town of
Beyrout; my only regret was the parting from my kind Pauline. I had
met many good people during my journey, but she was certainly one of
the best.
Unhappily, my cruel fate was not yet weary of pursuing me; and in my
experience I fully realised the old proverb of, "out of the frying-
pan into the fire." On this vessel, and during the time we had to
keep quarantine in Alexandria, I was almost worse off than during my
stay in Beyrout. It is necessary, in dealing with the captain of a
vessel of this description, to have a written contract for every
thing--stating, for instance, where he is to land, how long he may
stay at each place, etc. I mentioned this fact at the consulate,
and begged the gentlemen to do what was necessary; but they assured
me the captain was known to be a man of honour, and that the
precaution I wished to take would be quite superfluous. Upon this
assumption, I placed myself fearlessly in the hands of the man; but
scarcely had we lost sight of land, when he frankly declared that
there were not sufficient provisions and water on board to allow of
our proceeding to Alexandria, but that he must make for the harbour
of Limasol in Cyprus. I was exceedingly angry at this barefaced
fraud, and at the loss of time it would occasion me, and offered all
the opposition I could. But nothing would avail me; I had no
written contract, and the rest of the company offered no active
resistance--so to Cyprus we went.
A voyage in an ordinary sailing-vessel, which is not a packet-boat,
is as wearisome a thing as can be well conceived. The lower portion
of the ship is generally so crammed with merchandise, that the deck
alone remains for the passengers. This was the case on the present
occasion. I was obliged to remain continually on deck: during the
daytime, when I had only my umbrella to shield me from the piercing
rays of the sun; at night, when the dews fell so heavily, that after
an hour my cloak would be quite wet through, in cold and in stormy
weather. They did not even spread a piece of sailcloth by way of
awning. This state of things continued for ten days and eleven
nights, during which time I had not even an opportunity to change my
clothes. This was a double hardship; for if there is a place above
all others where cleanliness becomes imperative to comfort, it is
certainly on board a Greek ship, the generality of which are
exceedingly dirty and disgusting. The company I found did not make
amends for the accommodation. The only Europeans on board were two
young men, who had received some unimportant situation in a
quarantine office from the Turkish government. The behaviour of
both was conceited, stupid, and withal terribly vulgar. Then there
were four students from Alexandria, who boarded at Beyrout, and were
going home to spend the vacation--good-natured but much-neglected
lads of fourteen or fifteen years, who seemed particularly partial
to the society of the sailors, and were always talking, playing, or
quarrelling with them. The remainder of the company consisted of a
rich Arab family, with several male and female negro slaves, and a
few very poor people. And in such society I was to pass a weary
time. Many will say that this was a good opportunity for obtaining
an insight into the customs and behaviour of these people; but I
would gladly have declined the opportunity, for it requires an
almost angelic patience to bear such a complication of evils with
equanimity. Among the Arabs and the lower class of Greeks,
moreover, every thing possessed by one member of the community is
looked upon as public property. A knife, a pair of scissors, a
drinking-glass, or any other small article, is taken from its owner
without permission, and is given back after use without being
cleaned. On the mat, the carpet, or the mattress, which you have
brought on board as bedding, a negro and his master will lie down;
and wherever a vacant space is left, some one is sure to stand or
lie down. Take what precautions you may, it is impossible to avoid
having your person and garments infested by certain very disgusting
parasitical creatures. One day I cleaned my teeth with a
toothbrush; one of the Greek sailors, noticing what I was about,
came towards me, and when I laid the brush down for an instant, took
it up. I thought he only wished to examine it; but no, he did
exactly as I had done, and after cleaning his teeth returned me my
brush, expressing himself entirely satisfied with it.
The diet on board a vessel of this kind is also exceedingly bad.
For dinner we have pilau, stale cheese, and onions; in the evening,
we get anchovies, olives, stale cheese again, and ship-biscuit
instead of bread. These appetising dishes are placed in a tray on
the ground, round which the captains (of whom there are frequently
two or three), the mate, and those passengers who have not come
furnished with provisions of their own, take their places. I did
not take part in these entertainments; for I had brought a few live
fowls, besides some rice, butter, dried bread, and coffee, and
prepared my own meals. The voyage in one of these agreeable ships
is certainly not very dear, if we do not take the discomforts and
privations into account; but these I can really not estimate at too
high a price. For the voyage to Alexandria (a distance of 2000 sea-
miles) I paid sixty piastres; the provisions I took with me cost
thirty more; and thus the entire journey came only to ninety
piastres.
In general the wind was very unfavourable, so that we frequently
cruised about for whole nights, and awoke in the morning to find
ourselves in almost the same position we had occupied the previous
evening.
This is one of the most disagreeable impressions, and one which can
scarcely be described, to be continually driving and driving without
approaching the conclusion of your journey. To my shame I must
confess that I sometimes shed tears of regret and annoyance. My
fellow-passengers could not at all understand why I was so
impatient; for, with their constitutional indolence, they were quite
indifferent as to whether they spent their time for a week or a
fortnight longer in smoking, sleeping, and idling on board or on
shore--whether they were carried to Cyprus or Alexandria. It was
not until the fourth day that we landed at
LIMASOL.
This place contains pretty houses, some of which are even provided
with slated roofs, and resemble European habitations. Here, for the
first time since my departure from Constantinople, I saw a vehicle;
it was not, however, a coach, but simply a wooden two-wheeled cart,
and is used to transport stones, earth, and merchandise. The region
around Limasol is barren in the extreme, almost like that of
Larnaca, except that the mountains are here much nearer.
We stayed in this port the whole of the day; and now I learnt for
the first time that the captain had not put in here so much on
account of scarcity of provisions, as because he wanted to take in
wine and endeavour to take in passengers. Of the latter, however,
none presented themselves. The wine is very cheap; I bought a
bottle containing about three pints for a piastre. As soon as we
were again at sea, our worthy captain gave out that he wished to
call at Damietta. My patience was at length exhausted. I called
him a cheat, and insisted that he should bend his course to no other
port than to Alexandria, otherwise I should have him brought before
a judge if it cost me a hundred piastres. This remonstrance
produced so much effect upon the captain, that he promised me not to
cast anchor any where else; and, marvellous to relate, he kept his
word.
One other circumstance occurred during this journey which is
interesting as furnishing a sample of the heroism of the modern
Greeks.
On the 5th of August, about noon, our sailors discovered a two-
masted ship in the distance, which altered her course immediately on
perceiving our vessel, and came sailing towards us. It was at once
concluded by all that this ship must be a pirate, else why did she
alter her course and give chase to us? The circumstance was indeed
singular; yet these maritime heroes ought to have been used to all
kinds of adventures, and not at once to have feared the worst,
particularly as, so far as I am aware, the pirate's trade is very
nearly broken up, and attempts of this kind are unprecedented--at
least in these regions.
A painter like Hogarth should have been on board our ship, to mark
the expression of fear and cowardice depicted on the several
countenances. It was wonderful to behold how the poor captains ran
from one end of the ship to the other, and huddled us travellers
together into a heap, recommending us to sit still and keep silence;
how they then hurried away and ran to and fro, making signs and
gestures, while the pale sailors tumbled after them with scared
faces, wringing their hands. Any one who had not witnessed the
scene would think this description exaggerated. What would the
Grecian heroes of antiquity say if they could throw a glance upon
their gallant descendants! Instead of arming themselves and making
preparations, the men ran about in the greatest confusion. We were
in this enviable state when the dreaded pirate came within gunshot;
and the reason of her approach turned out to be that her compass was
broken. The whole scene at once changed, as though a beneficent
fairy had waved her wand. The captains instantly recovered their
dignity, the sailors embraced and jumped about like children, and we
poor travellers were released from durance and permitted to take
part in the friendly interview between the two heroic crews.
The captain who had spoken us asked our gallant leader in what
latitude we were, and hearing that we were sailing to Alexandria,
requested that a lantern should be hung at the mainmast-head, at
which he might look as at a guiding-star.
With the exception of Cyprus, we had seen no land during all our
weary journey. We could only judge when we arrived in the
neighbourhood of Damietta by the altered colour of the sea; as far
as the eye could reach, the beautiful dark-blue wave had turned to
the colour of the yellow Nile. From these tokens I could judge of
the magnitude and volume of that river, which at this season of the
year increases greatly, and had already been rising for two months.
August 7th.
At eight o'clock in the morning we safely reached the quay of
Alexandria.
CHAPTER XIV.
Alexandria--Keeping quarantine--Want of arrangement in the
quarantine house--Bad water--Fumigating of the rooms--Release--
Aspect of the city--Departure by boat for Atfe--Mehemet Ali--Arrival
at Atfe--Excellence of the Nile water--Good-nature of the Arab
women--The Delta of the Nile--The Libyan desert--The pyramids--
Arrival at Cairo.
At first we could only perceive the tops of masts, behind which low
objects seemed to be hiding as they rose from the sea. In a little
time a whole forest of masts appeared, while the objects before
mentioned took the shape of houses peering forth amongst them. At
length the land itself could be distinguished from the surrounding
ocean, and we discerned hills, shrubberies, and gardens in the
vicinity of the town, the appearance of which is not calculated to
delight the traveller, for a large desert region of sand girdles
both city and gardens, giving an air of dreariness to the whole
scene.
We cast anchor between the lighthouse and the new hospital. No
friendly boat was permitted to approach and carry us to the wished-
for shore; we came from the land of the plague to enter another
region afflicted with the same scourge, and yet we were compelled to
keep quarantine, for the Egyptians asserted that the Syrian plague
was more malignant than the variety of the disease raging among
them. Thus a compulsory quarantine is always enforced in these
regions, a circumstance alike prejudicial to visitors, commerce, and
shipping.
We waited with fear and trembling to hear how long a period of
banishment in the hospital should be awarded us. At length came a
little skiff, bringing two guardians (servants of the hospital), and
with them the news that we must remain in the hospital ten days from
the period of our entrance, but that we could not disembark to-day,
as it was Sunday. Excepting at the arrival of the English packet-
boats, the officials have no time to examine vessels on Sundays or
holidays,--a truly Egyptian arrangement. Why could not an officer
be appointed for these days to take care of the poor travellers?
Why should fifty persons suffer for the convenience of one, and be
deprived of their liberty for an extra day? We came from Beyrout
furnished with a Teshkeret (certificate of health) by the
government, besides the voucher of our personal appearance, and yet
we were condemned to a lengthened imprisonment. But Mehemet Ali is
far more mighty and despotic in Egypt than the Sultan in
Constantinople; he commands, and what can we do but obey, and submit
to his superior power?
From the deck of our ship I obtained a view of the city and the
desert region around. The town seems tolerably spacious, and is
built quite in European style.
Of the Turkish town, which lies in the background, we can
distinguish nothing; the proper harbour, situate at the opposite
side of the city, is also invisible, and its situation can only be
discerned from the forest of masts that towers upwards. The eye is
principally caught by two high sand-hills, on one of which stands
Fort Napoleon, while the other is only surmounted by several cannon;
the foreground is occupied by rocky ridges of moderate elevation,
flanked on one side by the lighthouse, and on the other by the new
quarantine buildings. The old quarantine-house lies opposite to the
new one. In several places we notice little plantations of date-
palms, which make a very agreeable impression on the European, as
their appearance is quite new to him.
August 8th.
At seven o'clock this morning we disembarked, and were delivered
with bag and baggage at the quarantine-house. I now trod a new
quarter of the globe, Africa. When I sit calmly down to think of
the past, I frequently wonder how it was that my courage and
perseverance never once left me while I followed out my project step
by step. This only serves to convince me that, if the resolution be
firm, things can be achieved which would appear almost impossible.
I had expected to find neither comfort nor pleasure in the
quarantine-house, and unfortunately I had judged but too well. The
courtyard into which we were shewn was closely locked, and furnished
on all sides with wooden bars; the rooms displayed only four bare
walls, with windows guarded in the same manner. It is customary to
quarter several persons in the same room, and then each pays a share
of the expense. I requested a separate apartment, which one can
also have, but of course at a higher charge. Such a thing as a
chair, a table, or a piece of furniture, was quite out of the
question; whoever wishes to enjoy such a luxury must apply by letter
to an innkeeper of the town, who lends any thing of the kind, but at
an enormously high rate. Diet must be obtained in the same way. In
the quarantine establishment there is no host, every thing must be
procured from without. An innkeeper generally demands between
thirty and forty piastres per diem for dinner and supper. This I
considered a little too exorbitant, and therefore ordered a few
articles of food through one of the keepers. He promised to provide
every thing punctually; but I fear he cannot have understood me, for
I waited in vain, and during the whole of the first day had nothing
to eat. On the second day my appetite was quite ravenous, and I did
not know what to do. I betook myself to the room of the Arab family
who had come in the same ship with me, and were therefore also in
quarantine; I asked for a piece of bread, for which I offered to pay
but the kind woman not only gave me bread, but pressed upon me a
share of all the provisions she was preparing for her family, and
would not be prevailed upon to accept any remuneration; on the
contrary, she explained to me by signs that I was to come to her
whenever I wanted any thing.
It was not until the evening of the second day that, perceiving it
was hopeless to expect any thing from my stupid messenger, I applied
to the chief superintendent of the hospital, who came every evening
at sunset to examine us and to lock us in our rooms. I ordered my
provisions of him, and from this time forward always received them
in proper time.
The keepers were all Arabs, and not one of them could understand or
speak any language but their own; this is also a truly Egyptian
arrangement. I think that in an establishment of this kind, where
travellers from all parts of the world are assembled, it would at
least be advisable to have a person who understands Italian, even if
he cannot speak it. An individual of this kind could easily be
obtained; for Italian, as I afterwards found, is such a well-known
language throughout the East, but particularly at Alexandria and
Cairo, that many people are to be met with, even among the lowest
classes, who understand and can speak it.
The supply of water is also very badly managed. Every morning,
immediately after sunrise, a few skins of water are brought for the
purpose of cleaning the cooking utensils; at nine o'clock in the
morning and five in the afternoon a few camels come laden with skins
of fresh water, which are emptied into two stone tanks in the
courtyard. Then all fill their cooking and drinking vessels, but in
such an untidy way that I felt not the slightest inclination to
drink. One man was ladling out the water with a dirty pot, while
another dabbled in the tank with his filthy hands; and some even put
their dirty feet on the run and washed them, so that some of the
water ran back into the tank. This receptacle is moreover never
cleaned, so that dirt accumulates upon dirt, and the only way to
obtain clear water is by filtering it.
On the second day of my residence here I was exceedingly surprised
to observe that the courtyard, the staircases, the rooms, etc. were
being cleaned and swept with particular care. The mystery was soon
solved; the commissioner appeared with a great stick, and paused at
the threshold of the door to see that the linen, clothes, etc. were
hung up to air, the books opened, and the letters or papers
suspended by strings. No idea can be formed of the stupid nervous
fear of this commissioner. For instance, on passing through the
first room on his way to my apartment, he saw the stalk of a bunch
of grapes lying on the ground. With fearful haste he thrust this
trifling object aside with his stick, for fear his foot should
strike against it in passing; and as he went he continually held his
stick in rest, to keep us plague-struck people at a respectful
distance.
On the seventh day of our incarceration we were all sent to our
rooms at nine o'clock in the morning. Doors and windows were then
locked, and great chafing-dishes were brought, and a dreadful odour
of brimstone, herbs, burnt feathers, and other ingredients filled
the air. After we had been compelled to endure this stifling
atmosphere for four or five minutes, the windows and doors were once
more opened. A person of a consumptive habit could scarcely have
survived this inhuman ordeal.
On the ninth day the men were drawn up in a row, to undergo an
examination by the doctor. The old gentleman entered the room, with
a spy-glass in one hand and a stick in the other, to review the
troop. Every man had to strike himself a blow on the chest and
another in the side; if he could do this without feeling pain, it
was considered a sign of health, because the plague-spots appear
first on these parts of the body. On the same day, the women were
led into a large room, where a great female dragoon was waiting for
us to put us through a similar ceremony. Neither men nor women are,
however, required to undress.
A few hours later we were summoned to the iron grating which
separated us from the disinfected people. On the farther side were
seated several officers, to whom we paid the fee for our rooms and
the keepers--the charge was very trifling. My room, with
attendance, only cost me three piastres per diem. But how gladly
would every traveller pay a higher price if he could only have a
table and a few chairs in his apartment, and an attendant who
understood what was said to him!
So far as cleanliness is concerned, there is nothing to complain of;
the rooms, the staircases and the courtyard were kept very neatly,
and the latter was even profusely watered twice a day. We were not
at all annoyed by insects, and we were but little incommoded by the
heat. In the sun the temperature never exceeded 33 degress; and in
the shade the greatest heat was 22 degrees Reaumur.
August 17th.
At seven o'clock this morning our cage was at length opened. Now
all the world rushed in; friends and relations of the voyagers,
ambassadors from innkeepers, porters, and donkey-drivers, all were
merry and joyous, for every one found a friend or an acquaintance,
and I only stood friendless and alone, for nobody hastened towards
me or took an interest in me; but the envoys of the innkeepers, the
porters, and donkey-drivers, cruel generation that they were,
quarrelled and hustled each other for the possession of the solitary
one.
I collected my baggage, mounted a donkey, and rode to "Colombier,"
one of the best inns in Alexandria. Swerving a little from the
direct road, I passed "Cleopatra's Needles," two obelisks of
granite, one of which is still erect, while the other lies prostrate
in the sand at a short distance. We rode through a miserable
poverty-stricken village; the huts were built of stones, but were so
small and low that we can hardly understand how a man can stand
upright in them. The doors were so low that we had to stoop
considerably in entering. I could not discover any signs of
windows. And this wretched village lay within the bounds of the
city, and even within the walls, which inclose such an immense
space, that they not only comprise Alexandria itself, but several
small villages, besides numerous country-houses and a few
shrubberies and cemeteries.
In this village I saw many women with yellowish-brown countenances.
They looked wretched and dirty, and were all clothed in long blue
garments, sitting before their doors at work, or nursing children.
These women were employed in basket-making and in picking corn. I
did not notice any men; they were probably employed in the fields.
I now rode forward across the sandy plain on which the whole of
Alexandria is built, and suddenly, without having passed through any
street, found myself in the great square.
I can scarcely describe the astonishment I felt at the scene before
me. Every where I saw large beautiful houses, with lofty gates,
regular windows, and balconies, like European dwellings; equipages,
as graceful and beautiful as any that can be found in the great
cities of Europe, rolled to and fro amid a busy crowd of men of
various nations. Franks, in the costume of their country, were
distinguished among the turbans and fez-caps of the Orientals; and
tall women, in their blue gowns, wandered amidst the half-naked
forms of the Arabs and Bedouins. Here a negro was running with
argile behind his master, who trotted along on his noble horse;
there Frankish or Egyptian ladies were to be seen mounted on asses.
Coming from the dreary monotony of the quarantine-house, this sight
made a peculiar impression upon me.
Scarcely had I arrived at the hotel before I hastened to the
Austrian consulate, where Herr von L., the government councillor,
received me very kindly. I begged this gentleman to let me know
what would be the first opportunity for me to continue my journey to
Cairo; I did not wish to take passage on board an English steamboat,
as the charge on this vessel for the short distance of about 400 sea
miles is five pounds. The councillor was polite enough to procure
me a berth on board an Arabian barque, which was to start from Atfe
the same evening.
I also learnt at the consulate, that Herr Sattler, the painter, had
arrived by the packet-boat a few days previously, and was now at the
old quarantine-house. I rode out in company with a gentleman to
visit him, and was glad to find him looking very well. He was just
returning from his journey to Palestine.
I found the arrangements in the old quarantine-building rather more
comfortable than those in the new; the establishment is moreover
nearer the town, so that it is easier to obtain the necessaries of
life. On my return, my companion was so kind as to conduct me
through the greater portion of the Turkish town, which appeared to
be better built and more neatly kept than any city of the Turks I
had yet seen. The bazaar is not handsome; it consists of wooden
booths, displaying only the most ordinary articles of merchandise.
On the same day that I quitted the quarantine-house, I rode in the
evening to the Nile Canal, which is twenty-four feet broad and about
twenty-six miles long. A number of vessels lay there, on one of
which a place had been taken for me (the smaller division of the
cabin) as far as Atfe, for the sum of fifteen piastres. I at once
took possession of my berth, made my arrangements for the night and
for the following day, and waited hour after hour till we should
depart. Late in the night I was at length told that we could not
set out to-night at all. To pack up my things again, and to set off
to walk to the inn, a distance of two miles, and to return next
morning, would have been a rather laborious proceeding; I therefore
resolved to remain on board, and sat down among the Arabs and
Bedouins to eat my frugal supper, which consisted of cold
provisions.
Next day I was told every half-hour that we should depart
immediately, and each time I was again disappointed.
Herr von L. had wished to supply me with wine and provisions for the
passage; but as I had calculated upon being in Atfe to-day at noon,
I had declined his offer with many thanks. But now I had no
provisions; I could not venture into the town on account of the
distance, and found it quite impossible to make the sailors
understand that they were to bring me some bread and baked fish from
the neighbouring bazaar. At length hunger compelled me to venture
out alone: I pushed through the crowd, who looked at me curiously,
but suffered me to pass unmolested, and bought some provisions.
In Alexandria I procured beef and beef-soup, for the first time
since my departure from Smyrna. In Alexandria and throughout the
whole of Egypt the white bread is very delicious.
At four in the afternoon we at length set sail. The time had passed
rapidly enough with me, for there was a great deal of bustle around
this canal. Barques came and departed, took in or discharged cargo;
long processions of camels moved to and fro with their drivers to
fetch and carry goods; the soldiers passed by, to the sound of
military music, to exercise in the neighbouring square; there was
continually something new to see, so that when four o'clock arrived,
I could not imagine what had become of the time.
With the exception of the crew, I was the only person on board.
These vessels are long and narrow, and are fitted up with a cabin
and an awning. The cabin is divided into two little rooms; the
first and larger of these contains two little windows on each side.
The second and smaller one is often only six feet long by five
broad. The space under the awning is appropriated to the poorer
class of passengers and to the servants. It is necessary to take on
board, besides provisions, a little stove, wood for fuel, kitchen-
utensils and articles of this kind, a supply of water. The water of
the Nile is, indeed, very good and thoroughly tasteless, so that it
is universally drunk in Alexandria, Cairo, and elsewhere; but it is
very turbid and of a yellowish colour, so that it must be filtered
to render it clear and pure. Thus it happens that even on the river
we are obliged to take water with us.
Handsome country-houses with gardens skirt the sides of the canal;
the finest of these belongs to a pacha, the son-in-law of Mehemet
Ali. As we passed this palace I saw the Egyptian Napoleon for the
first time; he is a very little old man, with a long snow-white
beard; his eyes and his gestures are very animated. Several
Europeans stood around him, and a number of servants, some of them
clothed in Greek, others in Turkish costume. In the avenue his
carriage was waiting, a splendid double-seated vehicle, with four
beautiful horses, harnessed in the English style. The Franks are
favourably disposed towards this despot, whose subjects cherish a
very opposite feeling. His government is very lenient to
Christians, while the Mussulmen are obliged to bend their necks
beneath a yoke of iron slavery.
This view of villas and gardens only lasts for two hours at the
most. Afterwards we continue our journey to Atfe through a very
uniform and unsatisfactory region of sandy hills and plains. On the
right we pass the Mariotic Sea; and on both sides lie villages of a
very wretched appearance.
August 19th.
At eleven in the forenoon we reached Atfe, and had therefore
travelled about 180 sea-miles in sixteen hours. Atfe is a very
small town, or rather a mere heap of stones.
The landing-places were always the scenes of my chief troubles. It
was seldom that I could find a Frank, and was generally obliged to
address several of the bystanders before I succeeded in finding one
who could speak Italian and give me the information I required. I
requested to be taken at once to the Austrian consulate, where this
difficulty was usually removed. This was also the case here. The
consul immediately sent to inquire how I could best get to Cairo,
and offered me a room in his house in the mean time. A ship was
soon found, for Atfe is a harbour of some importance. The canal
joins the Nile at this place; and as larger vessels are used on the
stream itself, all goods are transhipped here, so that barques are
continually starting for Alexandria and Cairo. In a few hours I was
obliged to re-embark, and had only time to provide myself with
provisions and a supply of water, and to partake of a sumptuous
dinner at the consul's, whose hospitality was doubly grateful to me
as I had fasted the previous day. The chief compartment of the
cabin had been engaged for me, at an expense of 100 piastres. On
embarking, however, I found that this place had been so filled with
goods, that hardly a vacant space remained for the poor occupant. I
at once hastened back to the consulate and complained of the
captain, whereupon the consul sent for that worthy and desired him
to clear my cabin, and to refrain from annoying me during the
voyage, if he wished to be paid on our arrival at Cairo. This
command was strictly obeyed, and until we reached our destination I
was left in undisturbed possession of my berth. At two in the
afternoon I once more set sail alone in the company of Arabs and
Bedouins.
I would counsel any one who can only make this journey to Cairo once
in his lifetime to do it at the end of August or the beginning of
September. A more lovely picture, and one more peculiar in its
character, can scarcely be imagined. In many places the plain is
covered as far as the eye can trace by the Nile-sea (it can scarcely
be called river in its immense expanse), and every where little
islands are seen rising from the waters, covered with villages
surrounded by date-palms, and other trees, while in the background
the high-masted boats, with their pyramidal sails, are gliding to
and fro. Numbers of sheep, goats, and poultry cover the hills, and
near the shore the heads of the dark-grey buffaloes, which are here
found in large herds, peer forth from the water. These creatures
are fond of immersing their bodies in the cool flood, where they
stand gazing at the passing ships. Here and there little
plantations of twenty to thirty trees are seen, which appear, as the
ground is completely overflowed, to be growing out of the Nile. The
water here is much more muddy and of a darker colour than in the
canal between Atfe and Alexandria. The sailors pour this water into
great iron vessels, and leave it to settle and become clearer; this
is, however, of little use, for it remains almost as muddy as the
river. Notwithstanding this circumstance, however, this Nile-water
is not at all prejudicial to health; on the contrary, the
inhabitants of the valley assert that they possess the best and
wholesomest water in the world. The Franks are accustomed, as I
have already stated, to take filtered water with them. When the
supply becomes exhausted, they have only to put a few kernels of
apricots or almonds chopped small into a vessel of Nile-water to
render it tolerably clear within the space of five or six hours. I
learnt this art from an Arab woman during my voyage on the Nile.
The population of the region around the Nile must be very
considerable, for the villages almost adjoin each other. The ground
consists every where of sand, and only becomes fruitful through the
mud which the Nile leaves behind after its inundation. Thus the
luxuriant vegetation here only commences after the waters of the
Nile have retired.
The villages cannot be called handsome, as the houses are mostly
built of earth and clay, or of bricks made of the Nile mud. Man,
the "crown of creation," does not appear to advantage here; the
poverty, the want of cleanliness, and rude savage state of the
people, cannot be witnessed without a feeling of painful emotion.
The dress of the women consists of the usual long blue garment, and
the men wear nothing but a shirt reaching to the knee. Some of the
women veil their faces, but others do not.
I was astonished at the difference between the fine strongly-built
men and the ugly disgusting women and neglected children. In
general the latter present a most lamentable appearance, with faces
covered with scabs and sores, on which a quantity of flies are
continually settling. Frequently also they have inflamed eyes. In
spite of the oppressive heat, I remained nearly the whole day seated
on the roof of my cabin, enjoying the landscape, and gazing at the
moving panorama to my heart's content.
The company on board could be called good or bad; bad, because there
was not a soul present to whom I could impart my feelings and
sentiments on the marvels of nature around me; good, because all,
but particularly the Arab women who occupied the little cabin in the
forepart of the vessel, were very good-natured and attentive to me.
They wished me to accept a share of every thing they possessed, and
gave me a portion of each of their dishes, which generally consisted
either of pilau, beans, or cucumbers, and which I did not find
palatable; when they drank coffee in the morning, the first cup was
always handed to me. In return I gave them some of my provisions,
all of which they liked, excepting the coffee, which had milk in it.
When we landed at a village, the inhabitants would inquire by signs
if I wished for any thing. I wanted some milk, eggs, and bread, but
did not know how to ask for them in Arabic. I therefore had
recourse to drawing; for instance, I made a portrait of a cow, gave
an Arab woman a bottle and some money, and made signs to her to milk
her cow and to fill my bottle. In the same way I drew a hen, and
some eggs beside her; pointed to the hen with a shake of my head,
and then to the eggs with a nod, counting on the woman's fingers how
many she was to bring me. In this way I could always manage to get
on, by limiting my wants to such objects as I could represent by
drawings.
When they brought me the milk, and I explained to the Arab woman by
signs that, after she had finished cooking, I wished to have the use
of the fire to prepare my milk and eggs, she immediately took off
her pot from the fire and compelled me, in spite of all
remonstrances, to cook my dinner first. If I walked forward towards
the prow to obtain a better view of the landscape, the best place
was immediately vacated on my behalf; and, in short, they all
behaved in such a courteous and obliging way, that these
uncultivated people might have put to shame many a civilised
European. They certainly, however, requested a few favours of me,
which, I am ashamed to say, it cost me a great effort to grant. For
instance, the oldest among them begged permission to sleep in my
apartment, as they only possessed a small cabin, while I had the
larger one all to myself. Then they performed their devotions, even
to the preliminary washing of face and feet, in my cabin: this I
permitted, as I was more on deck than below. At first these women
called me Mary, imagining, probably, that every Christian lady must
bear the name of the Virgin. I told them my baptismal name, which
they accurately remembered; they told me theirs in return, which I
very soon forgot. I mention this trifling circumstance, because I
afterwards was frequently surprised at the retentive memory of these
people during my journey through the desert towards the Red Sea.
August 21st.
Although I felt solitary among all the voyagers on the barque, these
two days passed swiftly and agreeably away. The flatter the land
grew, the broader did the lordly river become. The villages
increased in size; and the huts, mostly resembling a sugar-loaf,
with a number of doves roosting on its apex, wore an appearance of
greater comfort. Mosques and large country-houses presently
appeared; and, in short, the nearer we approached towards Cairo, the
more distinct became these indications of affluence. The sand-hills
appeared less frequently, though on the route between Atfe and Cairo
I still saw five or six large barren places which had quite the look
of deserts. Once the wind blew directly towards us from one of
these burning wastes with such an oppressive influence, that I could
easily imagine how dreadful the hot winds (chamsir) must be, and I
no longer wondered at the continual instances of blindness among the
poor inhabitants of these regions. The heat is unendurable, and the
fine dust and heated particles of sand which are carried into the
air by these winds cannot fail to cause inflammation of the eyes.
Little towers of masonry, on the tops of which telegraphs have been
fixed, are seen at intervals along the road between Alexandria and
Cairo.
Our vessel was unfortunate enough to strike several times on sand-
banks, besides getting entangled among the shallows--a circumstance
of frequent occurrence during the time that the Nile is rising. On
these occasions I could not sufficiently admire the strength,
agility, and hard-working perseverance of our sailors, who were
obliged to jump overboard and push off the ship with poles, and
afterwards were repeatedly compelled to drag it for half an hour
together through shallow places. These people are also very expert
at climbing. They could ascend _without_ ratlines to the very tops
of the slanting masts, and take in or unloose the sails. I could
not repress a shudder on seeing these poor creatures hanging betwixt
earth and heaven, so far above me that they appeared like dwarfs.
They work with one hand, while they cling to the mast with the
other. I do not think that a better, or a more active, agile, and
temperate race of sailors exists than these. Their fare consists of
bread or ship-biscuit in the morning, with sometimes a raw cucumber,
a piece of cheese, or a handful of dates in addition. For dinner
they have the same diet, and for supper they have a dish of warm
beans, or a kind of broth or pilau. Roast mutton is a rare delicacy
with them, and their drink is nothing but the Nile water.
During the period of the inundation, the river is twice as full of
vessels as at other times. When the river is swollen, the only
method of communication is by boats.
On the last day of this expedition a most beauteous spectacle
awaited me--the Delta! Here the mighty Nile, which irrigates the
whole country with the hundreds of canals cut from its banks through
every region, divides itself into two principal branches, one of
which falls into the sea at Rosetta, and the other at Damietta. If
the separate aims of the river could be compared to seas, how much
more does its united vastness merit the appellation!
When I was thus carried away by the beauty and grandeur of nature,
when I thus saw myself placed in the midst of new and interesting
scenes, it would appear to me incredible how people can exist,
possessing in abundance the gifts of riches, health, and leisure
time, and yet without a taste for travelling. The petty comforts of
life and enjoyments of luxury are indeed worth more in the eyes of
some than the opportunity of contemplating the exalted beauties of
nature or the monuments of history, and of gaining information
concerning the manners and customs of foreign nations. Although I
was at times very badly situated, and had to encounter more
hardships and disagreeables than fall to the lot of many a man, I
would be thankful that I had had resolution given me to continue my
wanderings whenever one of these grand spectacles opened itself
before me. What, indeed, are the entertainments of a large town
compared to the Delta of the Nile, and many similar scenes? The
pure and perfect enjoyment afforded by the contemplation of the
beauty of nature is not for a moment to be found in the ball-room or
the theatre; and all the ease and luxury in the world should not buy
from me my recollections of this journey.
Not far from the Delta we can behold the Libyan Desert, of which we
afterwards never entirely lose sight, though we sometimes approach
and sometimes recede from it. I became conscious of certain dark
objects in the far distance; they developed themselves more and
more, and at length I recognised in them the wonder-buildings of
ancient times, the Pyramids; far behind them rises the chain of
mountains, or rather hills, of Mokattam.
Evening was closing in when we at length arrived at Bulak, the
harbour of Cairo. If we could have landed at once, I might,
perhaps, have reached the town itself this evening; as the harbour
is, however, always over-crowded with vessels, the captain is often
compelled to wait for an hour before he can find a place to moor his
craft. By the time I could disembark it had already grown quite
dark, and the town-gates were shut. I was thus obliged to pass the
night on board.
The journey from Atfe to Cairo had occupied two days and a half.
This passage had been one of the most interesting, although the heat
became more and more oppressive, and the burning winds of the desert
were sometimes wafted over to us. The highest temperature at midday
was 36 degrees, and in the shade from 24 to 25 degrees Reaumur. The
sky was far less beautiful and clear than in Syria; it was here
frequently overcast with white clouds.
CHAPTER XV.
Cairo--Quarrel with the captain--Rapacity of the beggars--The
custom-house--The consulate--Aspect of Cairo--Narrow and crowded
streets--Costumes--The mad-house--Disgusting exhibition--Joseph's
well--Palace of Mehemet Ali--Dates--Mosques at Cairo--Excursion to
the pyramids of Gizeh--Gizeh--Eggs hatched by artificial heat--
Ascent of the pyramids--The sphynx--Return to Cairo.
August 22d.
The aspect of this great Egyptian metropolis is not nearly so
imposing as I had fancied it to be; its situation is too flat, and
from on board we can only discern scattered portions of its extended
area. The gardens skirting the shore are luxuriant and lovely.
At my debarcation, and on the road to the consulate, I met with
several adventures, which I relate circumstantially, trifling as
they may appear, in order to give a hint as to the best method of
dealing with the people here.
At the very commencement I became involved in a dispute with the
captain of the vessel. I had still to pay him three dollars and a
half, and gave him four dollars, in the expectation that he would
return me my change. This, however, he refused to do, and persisted
in keeping the half-dollar. He said it should be divided as
backsheesh among the crew; but I am sure they would have seen
nothing of it. Luckily, however, he was stupid enough not to put
the money in his pocket, but kept it open in his hand. I quickly
snatched a coin from him, and put it into my pocket, explaining to
him at the same time that he should not have it back until he had
given me my change, adding that I would give the men a gratuity
myself. He shouted and stormed, and kept on asking for the money.
I took no heed of him, but continued quietly packing up my things.
Seeing, at length, that nothing was to be done with me, he gave me
back my half-dollar; whereupon we parted good friends. This affair
concluded, I had to look about for a couple of asses; one for
myself, and another for my luggage. If I had stepped ashore I
should have been almost torn in pieces by contending donkey-drivers,
each of whom would have lugged me in a different direction. I
therefore remained quietly for a time in my cabin, until the drivers
ceased to suspect that any one was there. In the meantime I had
been looking upon the shore from the cabin-window, and speculating
upon which animal I should take; then I quickly rushed out, and
before the proprietors of the long-eared steeds were aware of my
intention, I had seized one by the bridle and pointed to another.
This concluded the matter at once; for the proprietors of the chosen
animals defended me from the rest, and returned with me to the boat
to carry my baggage.
A fellow came up and arranged my little trunk on the back of the
ass. For this trifling service I gave him a piastre; but observing
that I was alone, he probably thought he could soon intimidate me
into giving whatever he demanded. So he returned me my piastre, and
demanded four. I took the money, and told him (for fortunately he
understood a little Italian) that if he felt dissatisfied with this
reward he might accompany me to the consulate, where his four
piastres would be paid so soon as it appeared that he had earned
them. He shouted and blustered, just as the captain had done; but I
remained deaf, and rode forward towards the custom-house. Then he
came down to three piastres, then to two, and finally said he would
be content with one, which I threw to him. When I reached the
custom-house, hands were stretched out towards me from all sides; I
gave something to the chief person, and let the remaining ones
clamour on. When, after experiencing these various annoyances, I
rode on towards the town, a new obstacle arose. My Arab guide
inquired whither he should conduct me. I endeavoured in vain to
explain to him where I wanted to go; he could not be made to
understand me. Nothing now remained for me but to accost every
well-dressed Oriental whom I met, until I should find one who could
understand either French or Italian. The third person I addressed
fortunately knew something of the latter language, and I begged him
to tell my guide to take me to the Austrian consulate. This was
done, and my troubles concluded.
A ride of three quarters of an hour in a very broad handsome street,
planted with a double row of a kind of acacia altogether strange to
me, among a crowd of men, camels, asses, etc., brought me to the
town, the streets of which are in general narrow. There is so much
noise and crowding every where, that one would suppose a tumult had
broken out. But as I approached, the immense mass always opened as
if by magic, and I pursued my way without hindrance to the
consulate, which lies hidden in a little narrow blind alley.
I went immediately to the office, and presented myself to the
consul, with the request that he would recommend me a respectable
inn of the second class. Herr Chamgion, the consul, interested
himself for me with heartfelt kindness; he immediately despatched a
kavasse to an innkeeper whom he knew, paid my guide, and recommended
the host strongly to take good care of me; in short, he behaved
towards me with true Christian kindliness. His house was ever open
to me, and I could go to him with any petition I wished to make. It
is a real pleasure to me to be able publicly once more to thank this
worthy man.
I had been furnished with a letter of recommendation to a certain
Herr Palm. The consul kindly sent at once for this gentleman, who
soon appeared, and accompanied me to the inn.
I requested Herr P. to recommend me a servant who could either speak
Italian or French, and afterwards to tell me the best method to set
about seeing the lions of the town. Herr P. very willingly
undertook to do so; and after the lapse of an hour, the dragoman had
already been found, and two asses stood before the door to carry me
and my servant through the whole town.
The animated bustle and hum of business in the streets of Cairo is
very great. I can even say that in the most populous cities of
Italy I never saw any thing I could compare to it; and certainly
this is a bold assertion.
Many of the streets are so narrow, that when loaded camels meet, one
party must always be led into a by-street until the other has
passed. In these narrow lanes I continually encountered crowds of
passengers, so that I really felt quite anxious, and wondered how I
should find my way through. People mounted on horses and donkeys
tower above the moving mass; but the asses themselves appear like
pigmies beside the high, lofty-looking camels, which do not lose
their proud demeanour even under their heavy burdens. Men often
slip by under the heads of the camels. The riders keep as close as
possible to the houses, and the mass of pedestrians winds
dexterously between. There are water-carriers, vendors of goods,
numerous blind men groping their way with sticks, and bearing
baskets with fruit, bread, and other provisions for sale; numerous
children, some of them running about the streets, and others playing
before the house-doors; and lastly, the Egyptian ladies, who ride on
asses to pay their visits, and come in long processions with their
children and negro servants. Let the reader further imagine the
cries of the vendors, the shouting of the drivers and passengers,
the terrified screams of flying women and children, the quarrels
which frequently arise, and the peculiar noisiness and talkativeness
of these people, and he can fancy what an effect this must have on
the nerves of a stranger. I was in mortal fear at every step, and
on reaching home in the evening felt quite unwell; but as I never
once saw an accident occur, I at length accustomed myself to the
hubbub, and could follow my guide where the crowd was thickest
without feeling uneasy.
The streets, or, as they may be more properly called, the lanes of
Cairo, are sprinkled with water several times in the day; fountains
and large vessels of water are also placed every where for the
convenience of the passers-by. In the broad streets straw-mats are
hung up to keep off the sun's rays.
The richer class of people wear the Oriental garb, with the
exception that the women merely have their heads and faces wrapped
in a light muslin veil; they wear also a kind of mantilla of black
silk, which gives them a peculiar appearance. When they came riding
along, and the wind caught this garment and spread it out, they
looked exactly like bats with outstretched wings.
Many of the Franks also dress in the Oriental style; the Fellahs go
almost naked, and their women only wear a single blue garment.
Here, as throughout all the East, the rich people are always seen on
horseback. I was not so much pleased with the Egyptian as with the
Syrian horses, for the former appeared to me less slim and
gracefully built.
The population of Cairo is estimated at 200,000, and is a mixed one,
consisting of Arabs, Mamelukes, Turks, Berbers, Negroes, Bedouins,
Christians, Greeks, Jews, etc. Thanks to the powerful arm of
Mehemet Ali, they all live peacefully together.
Cairo contains 25,000 houses, which are as unsightly and irregular
as the streets. They are built of clay, unburnt bricks, and stones,
and have little narrow entrances; the unsymmetrical windows are
furnished with wooden shutters impenetrable to the eye. The
interiors are decorated like the houses in Damascus, but in a less
costly style; neither is there such an abundance of fresh water at
Cairo.
The Jews' quarter is the most hideous of all; the houses are dirty,
and the streets so narrow that two persons can only just push by
each other. The entire town is surrounded by walls and towers,
guarded by a castle, and divided into several quarters, separated
from each other by gates, which are closed after sunset. On the
heights around Cairo are to be seen some castles from the time of
the Saracens.
As I rode to and fro in the town, my guide suddenly stopped, bought
a quantity of bread, and motioned me to follow him. I thought he
was going to take me to a menagerie, and that this bread was
intended for the wild animals. We entered a courtyard with windows
all round reaching to the ground, and strengthened with iron bars.
Stopping before the first window, my servant threw in a piece of
bread; what was my horror when I saw, instead of a lion or tiger, a
naked emaciated old man rush forth, seize the bread, and devour it
ravenously. I was in the mad-house. In the midst of each dark and
filthy dungeon is fixed a stone, with two iron chains, to which one
or two of these wretched creatures are attached by an iron ring
fastened round the neck. There they sit staring with fearfully
distorted faces, their hair and beard unkempt, their bodies
emaciated, and the marrow of life drying up within them. In these
foul and loathsome dens they must pine until the Almighty in his
mercy loosens the chains which bind them to their miserable
existence by a welcome death. There is not _one_ instance of a
cure, and truly the treatment to which they are subjected is
calculated to drive a half-witted person quite mad. And yet the
Europeans can praise Mehemet Ali! Ye wretched madmen, ye poor
fellahs, are ye too ready to join in this praise?
Quitting this abode of misery, my dragoman led me to "Joseph's
well," which is deeply hewn out of the rock. I descended more than
two hundred and seventy steps, and had got half-way to the bottom of
the gigantic structure. On looking downward into its depths a
feeling of giddiness came over me.
The new palace of Mehemet Ali is rather a handsome building,
arranged chiefly in the European style. The rooms, or rather the
halls, are very lofty, and are either tastefully painted or hung
with silk, tapestry, etc. Large pier-glasses multiply the objects
around, rich divans are attached to the walls, and costly tables,
some of marble, others of inlaid work, enriched with beautiful
paintings, stand in the rooms, in one of which I even noticed a
billiard-table. The dining-hall is quite European in its character.
In the centre stands a large table; two sideboards are placed
against one side of the wall, and handsome chairs stand opposite.
In one of the rooms hangs an oil-painting representing Ibrahim
Pasha, {236} Mehemet Ali's son.
This palace stands in the midst of a little garden, neither
remarkable for the rarity of the plants it contains, nor for the
beauty of their arrangement. The views from some of the apartments,
as well as that from the garden, are very lovely.
Opposite the palace a great mosque is being built as a mausoleum for
Mehemet Ali. The despot probably reckons on having some years yet
to live, for much remains to be done before the beautiful structure
is completed. The pillars and the walls of the mosque are covered
with the most splendid marble, of a yellowish-white colour.
The before-mentioned buildings, namely, Joseph's well, the palace
and gardens, and the mosque, are all situate on a high rock, to
which a single broad road leads from Cairo. Here we behold a
threefold sea, namely, of houses, of the Nile, and a sea of sand, on
which the lofty Pyramids rise in the distance like isolated rocks.
The mountains of Mokattam close the background, and a number of
lovely gardens and plantations of date-palms surround the town.
With one glance we can behold the most striking contrasts. A wreath
of the most luxurious vegetation runs round the town, and beyond
lies the dreary monotony of the desert. The colour of the Nile is
so exactly similar to that of the sand forming its shores, that at a
distance the line of demarcation cannot be traced.
On my way homewards I met several fellahs carrying large baskets
full of dates, and stopped one of them, in order to purchase some of
this celebrated fruit. Unfortunately for me, the dates were still
unripe, hard, of a brick-red colour, and so unpalatable that I could
not eat one of them. A week or ten days afterwards I was able to
procure some ripe ones; they were of a brown colour like the dried
fruit, the tender skin could easily be peeled off, and I liked them
better than dried dates, because they were more pulpy and not so
sweet. A much more precious fruit, the finest production of Egypt
and Syria, almost superior to the pine-apple in taste, is the
banana, which is so delicate that it almost melts in the mouth.
This fruit cannot be dried, and is therefore never exported. Sugar
melons and peaches are to be had in abundance, but their flavour is
not very good. I also preferred the Alexandrian grape to that of
Cairo.
The bazaars, through which we rode in all directions, displayed
nothing very remarkable in manufactures or in productions of nature
and art.
From first to last I spent a week at Cairo, and occupied the whole
of my time from morning till night in viewing the curiosities of the
town.
I only saw two mosques, that of Sultan Hassan and of Sultan Amru.
Before I was permitted to enter the first of these edifices, they
compelled me to take off my shoes, and walk in my stockings over a
courtyard paved with great stones. The stones had become so heated
by the solar rays, that I was obliged to run fast, to avoid
scorching the soles of my feet. I cannot give an opinion touching
the architectural beauty of this building, which is built in such a
simple style that none but a connoisseur would discover its merits.
I was better pleased with the mosque of Sultan Amru, which contains
several halls, and is supported on numerous columns. The mosques in
Cairo struck me as having a more ancient and venerable appearance
than those of Constantinople, while the latter, on the other hand,
were larger and more elegant.
I also visited the island of Rodda, which is worthy the name of a
beautiful garden. It lies opposite to old Cairo, on the Nile, and
is said to be a favourite walk of the townspeople, though I was
there twice without meeting any one. The garden is spacious, and
contains all kinds of tropical productions: here I saw the sugar-
cane, which greatly resembles the stem of the Indian maize; the
cotton-tree, growing to a height of five or six feet; the banana-
tree, the short-stemmed date-palm, the coffee-tree, and many others.
Flowers were also there in quantities which must be cultivated with
great care in the hot-houses of my native country. The whole of
this collection of plants is very tastefully arranged, and shines
forth in the height of luxuriant beauty. It is customary to lay the
entire island under water every evening by means of artificial
canals. This system is universally carried out throughout the
Egyptian plantations, and is, in fact, the only method by which
vegetation can be preserved in its freshest green in spite of the
burning heat. The care of this fairy grove is entrusted to a German
ornamental gardener; unfortunately I was informed of this fact too
late, otherwise I should have visited my countryman and requested an
explanation of many things which appeared strange to me.
In the midst of the garden is a beautiful grotto, ornamented within
and without by a great variety of shells from the Red Sea, which
give it a most striking appearance. At this spot, towards which
many paths lead, all strewed with minute shells instead of gravel,
Moses is said to have been found in his cradle of bulrushes(?).
Immediately adjoining the garden we find a summer residence
belonging to Mehemet Ali.
The well shewn as that into which Joseph was thrust by his brethren
lies about two miles distant from the town, in a village on the road
to Suez. Half a mile off a very large and venerable sycamore-tree
was pointed out to me as the one in the shade of which the holy
family rested on their way to Egypt; and a walk of another quarter
of a mile brings us to the garden of Boghos Bey, in the midst of
which stands one of the finest and largest obelisks of Upper Egypt:
it is still in good condition, and completely covered with
hieroglyphics. The garden, however, offers nothing remarkable. The
ancient city of Heliopolis is said to have been built not far off;
but at the present day not a vestige of it remains.
The road to this garden already lies partly in the desert. At first
the way winds through avenues of trees and past gardens; but soon
the vast desert extends to the right, while beautiful orange and
citron groves still skirt the left side of the path. Here we
continually meet herds of camels, but a dromedary is a rare sight.
EXCURSION TO THE PYRAMIDS OF GIZEH.
August 25th, 1842.
At four in the afternoon I quitted Cairo, crossed two arms of the
Nile, and a couple of hours afterwards arrived safely at Gizeh. As
the Nile had overflowed several parts of the country, we were
compelled frequently to turn out of our way, and sometimes to cross
canals and ride through water; now and then, where it was too deep
for our asses, we were obliged to be carried across. As there is no
inn at Gizeh I betook myself to Herr Klinger, to whom I brought a
letter of recommendation from Cairo. Herr K. is a Bohemian by
birth, and stands in the service of the viceroy of Egypt, as musical
instructor to the young military band. I was made very welcome
here, and Herr Klinger seemed quite rejoiced at seeing a visitor
with whom he could talk in German. Our conversation was of
Beethoven and Mozart, of Strauss and Lanne. The fame of the bravura
composers of the present day, Liszt and Thalberg, had not yet
penetrated to these regions. I requested my kind host to shew me
the establishment for hatching eggs that exists at Gizeh. He
immediately sent for the superintendent, who happened however to be
absent, and to have locked up the keys. In this place about 8000
eggs are hatched by artificial warmth during the months of March and
April. The eggs are laid on large flat plates, which are
continually kept at an equal temperature by heat applied below the
surface: they are turned several times during the day. As the
thousands of little chickens burst their shells, they are sold, not
by number or weight, but by the measure. This egg-hatching house
has the effect of rendering poultry plentiful and cheap.
After chatting away the evening very pleasantly I sought my couch,
tired with my ride and with the heat, and rejoicing at the sight of
the soft divan, which seemed to smile upon me, and promise rest and
strength for the following day. But as I was about to take
possession of my couch, I noticed on the wall a great number of
black spots. I took the candle to examine what it could be, and
nearly dropped the light with horror on discovering that the wall
was covered with bugs. I had never seen such a disgusting sight.
All hopes of rest on the divan were now effectually put to flight.
I sat down on a chair, and waited until every thing was perfectly
still; then I slipped into the entrance-hall, and lay down on the
stones, wrapped in my cloak.
Though I had escaped from one description of vermin, I became a prey
to innumerable gnats. I had passed many uncomfortable nights during
my journey, but this was worse than any thing I had yet endured.
However, this was only an additional inducement for rising early,
and long before sunrise I was ready to continue my journey. Before
daybreak I took leave of my kind host, and rode with my servant
towards the gigantic structures. To-day we were again obliged
frequently to go out of our route on account of the rising of the
Nile; owing to this delay, two hours elapsed before we reached the
broad arm of the Nile, dividing us from the Libyan desert, on which
the Pyramids stand, and over which two Arabs carried me. This was
one of the most disagreeable things that can be imagined. Two large
powerful men stood side by side; I mounted on their shoulders, and
held fast by their heads, while they supported my feet in a
horizontal position above the waters, which at some places reached
almost to their armpits, so that I feared every moment that I should
sit in the water. Besides this, my supporters continually swayed to
and fro, because they could only withstand the force of the current
by a great exertion of strength, and I was apprehensive of falling
off. This disagreeable passage lasted above a quarter of an hour.
After wading for another fifteen minutes through deep sand, we
arrived at the goal of our little journey.
The two colossal pyramids are of course visible directly we quit the
town, and we keep them almost continually in sight. But here the
expectations I had cherished were again disappointed, for the aspect
of these giant structures did not astonish me greatly. Their height
appears less remarkable than it otherwise would, from the
circumstance that their base is buried in sand, and thus hidden from
view. There is also neither a tree nor a hut, nor any other object
which could serve to display their huge proportions by the force of
contrast.
As it was still early in the day and not very hot, I preferred
ascending the pyramid before venturing into its interior. My
servant took off my rings and concealed them carefully, telling me
that this was a very necessary precaution, as the fellows who take
the travellers by the hands to assist them in mounting the pyramids
have such a dexterous knack of drawing the rings from their fingers,
that they seldom perceive their loss until too late.
I took two Arabs with me, who gave me their hands, and pulled me up
the very large stones. Any one who is at all subject to dizziness
would do very wrong in attempting this feat, for he might be lost
without remedy. Let the reader picture to himself a height of 500
feet, without a railing or a regular staircase by which to make the
ascent. At one angle only the immense blocks of stone have been
hewn in such a manner that they form a flight of steps, but a very
inconvenient one, as many of these stone blocks are above four feet
in height, and offer no projection on which you can place your foot
in mounting. The two Arabs ascended first, and then stretched out
their hands to pull me from one block to another. I preferred
climbing over the smaller blocks without assistance. In three
quarters of an hour's time I had gained the summit of the pyramid.
For a long time I stood lost in thought, and could hardly realise
the fact that I was really one of the favoured few who are happy
enough to be able to contemplate the most stupendous and
imperishable monument ever erected by human hands. At the first
moment I was scarcely able to gaze down from the dizzy height into
the deep distance; I could only examine the pyramid itself, and seek
to familiarise myself with the idea that I was not dreaming.
Gradually, however, I came to myself, and contemplated the landscape
which lay extended beneath me. From my elevated position I could
form a better estimate of the gigantic structure, for here the fact
that the base was buried in sand did not prejudice the general
effect. I saw the Nile flowing far beneath me, and a few Bedouins,
whom curiosity had attracted to the spot, looked like very pigmies.
In ascending I had seen the immense blocks of stone singly, and
ceased to marvel that these monuments are reckoned among the seven
wonders of the world.
On the castle the view had been fine, but here, where the prospect
was bounded only by the horizon and by the Mokattam mountains, it is
grander by far. I could follow the windings of the river, with its
innumerable arms and canals, until it melted into the far horizon,
which closed the picture on this side. Many blooming gardens, and
the large extensive town with its environs; the immense desert, with
its plains and hills of sand, and the lengthened mountain-range of
Mokattam,--all lay spread before me; and for a long time I sat
gazing around me, and wishing that the dear ones at home had been
with me, to share in my wonder and delight.
But now the time came not only to look down, but to descend. Most
people find this even more difficult than the ascent; but with me
the contrary was the case. I never grow giddy, and so I advanced in
the following manner, without the aid of the Arabs. On the smaller
blocks I sprang from one to the other; when a stone of three or four
feet in height was to be encountered, I let myself glide gently
down; and I accomplished my descent with so much grace and agility,
that I reached the base of the pyramid long before my servant. Even
the Arabs expressed their pleasure at my fearlessness on this
dangerous passage.
After eating my breakfast and resting for a short time, I proceeded
to explore the interior. At first I was obliged to cross a heap of
sand and rubbish; for we have to go downwards towards the entrance,
which is so low and narrow that we cannot always stand upright. I
could not have passed along the passage leading into the interior if
the Arabs had not helped me, for it is so steep and so smoothly
paved that, in spite of my conductor's assistance, I slid rather
than walked. The apartment of the king is more spacious, and
resembles a small hall. On one side stands a little empty
sarcophagus without a lid. The walls of the chambers and of the
passages are covered with large and beautifully polished slabs of
granite and marble. The remaining passages, or rather dens, which
are shown here, I did not see. It may be very interesting for
learned men and antiquarians thus to search every corner; but for a
woman like myself, brought hither only by an insatiable desire to
travel, and capable of judging of the beauties of nature and art
only by her own simple feelings, it was enough to have ascended the
pyramid of Cheops, and to have seen something of its interior. This
pyramid is said to be the loftiest of all. It stands on a rock 150
feet in height, which is invisible, being altogether buried in sand.
The height of the vast structure is above 500 feet. It was erected
by Cheops more than 3000 years ago, and 100,000 men are said to have
been employed in its construction for twenty-six years. It is a
most interesting structure, built of immense masses of rock, fixed
together with a great deal of art, and seemingly calculated to last
an eternity. They look so strong and so well preserved, that many
travellers will no doubt repair hither in coming generations, and
continue the researches commenced long ago.
The Sphynx, a statue of most colossal dimensions, situate at no
great distance from the great pyramid, is so covered with sand that
only the head and a small portion of the bust remain visible. The
head alone is twenty-two feet in height.
After walking about and inspecting every thing, I commenced my
journey back. On the way I once more visited Herr Klinger,
strengthened myself with a hearty meal, and arrived safely at Cairo
late in the evening. Here I wished to take my little purse out of
my pocket, and found that it was gone. Luckily I had only taken one
collonato (Spanish dollar) with me. No one can imagine what
dexterity the Bedouins and Arabs possess in the art of stealing. I
always kept a sharp eye upon my effects, and notwithstanding my
vigilance several articles were pilfered from me, and my purse must
also have been stolen during this excursion. The loss was very
disagreeable to me because it involved that of my box-key. I was,
however, fortunate in finding an expert Arabian locksmith, who
opened my chest and made me a new key, on which occasion I had
another opportunity of seeing how careful it is necessary to be in
all our dealings with these people to avoid being cheated. The key
locked and unlocked my box well, and I paid for it; but immediately
afterwards observed that it was very slightly joined in the middle,
and would presently break. The Arab's tools still lay on the
ground; I immediately seized one of them, and told the man I would
not give it up until he had made me a new key. It was in vain that
he assured me he could not work without his tools; he would not give
my money back, and I kept the implement: by this means I obtained
from him a new and a good key.
CHAPTER XVI.
Christian churches at Cairo--The Esbekie-square--Theatre--Howling
dervishes--Mashdalansher, the birthday of Mahomet--Procession and
religious ceremony--Shubra--Excursion through the desert to Suez--
Hardships of the journey--Scenes in the desert--The camel--Caravans--
Mirage--The Red Sea--Suez--Bedouin camp--Quarrel with the camel-
driver--Departure for Alexandria.
I visited many Christian churches, the finest among which was the
Greek one. On my way thither I saw many streets where there can
hardly have been room for a horseman to pass. The road to the
Armenian church leads through such narrow lanes and gates, that we
were compelled to leave our asses behind; there was hardly room for
two people to pass each other.
On the other hand, I had nowhere seen a more spacious square than
the Esbekie-place in Cairo. The square in Padua is perhaps the only
one that can compare with it in point of size; but this place looks
like a complete chaos. Miserable houses and ruined huts surround
it; and here and there we sometimes come upon a part of an alley or
an unfinished canal. The centre is very uneven, and is filled with
building materials, such as stones, wood, bricks, and beams. The
largest and handsomest house in this square is remarkable as having
been inhabited by Napoleon during his residence at Cairo: it is now
converted into a splendid hotel.
Herr Chamgion, the consul, was kind enough to send me a card of
invitation for the theatre. The building looks like a private
house, and contains a gallery capable of accommodating three or four
hundred people; this gallery is devoted to the use of the ladies.
The performers were all amateurs; they acted an Italian comedy in a
very creditable manner. The orchestra comprised only four
musicians. At the conclusion of the second act the consul's son, a
boy of twelve years, played some variations on the violin very
prettily.
The women, all natives of the Levant, were very elegantly dressed;
they wore the European garb, white muslin dresses with their hair
beautifully braided and ornamented with flowers. Nearly all the
women and girls were handsome, with complexions of a dazzling
whiteness, which we rarely see equalled in Europe. The reason of
this is, perhaps, that they always stay in their houses, and avoid
exposing themselves to the sun and wind.
The following day I visited the abode of the howling dervishes, in
whom I took a lively interest since I had seen their brethren at
Constantinople. The hall, or rather the mosque, in which they
perform their devotions is very splendid. I was not allowed here to
stand among the men as I had done at Constantinople, but was
conducted to a raised gallery, from which I could look down through
a grated window.
The style of devotion and excitement of these dervishes is like that
I had witnessed at Constantinople, without being quite so wild in
its character. Not one of them sank exhausted, and the screeching
and howling were not so loud. Towards the end of their performance
many of the dervishes seized a small tambourine, on which they beat
and produced a most diabolical music.
In the slave-market there was but a meagre selection; all the wares
had been bought, and a new cargo of these unfortunates was daily
expected. I pretended that I wished to purchase a boy and a girl,
in order to gain admittance into the private department. Here I saw
a couple of negro girls of most uncommon beauty. I had not deemed
it possible to find any thing so perfect. Their skin was of a
velvety black, and shone with a peculiar lustre. Their teeth were
beautifully formed and of dazzling whiteness, their eyes large and
lustrous, and their lips thinner than we usually find them among
these people. They wore their hair neatly parted, and arranged in
pretty curls round the head. Poor creatures, who knows into what
hands they might fall! They bowed their heads in anguish, without
uttering a syllable. The sight of the slave-market here inspired me
with a feeling of deep melancholy. The poor creatures did not seem
so careless and merry as those whom I had seen on the market-place
at Constantinople. In Cairo the slaves seemed badly kept; they lay
in little tents, and were driven out, when a purchaser appeared,
very much in the manner of cattle. They were only partially clothed
in some old rags, and looked exhausted and unhappy.
During my short stay at Cairo one of the chief feasts of the
Mahommedans--namely, the Mashdalansher, or birthday of the Prophet--
occurred. This feast is celebrated on a great open space outside
the town. A number of large tents are erected; they are open in
front, and beneath their shelter all kinds of things are carried on.
In one tent, Mahommedans are praying; in another, a party of
dervishes throw themselves with their faces to the ground and call
upon Allah; while in a third, a juggler or storyteller may be
driving his trade. In the midst of all stood a large tent, the
entrance to which was concealed by curtains. Here the "bayaderes"
were dancing; any one can obtain admission by paying a trifling sum.
Of course I went in to see these celebrated dancers. There were,
however, only two pairs; two boys were elegantly clothed in a female
garb, richly decorated with gold coins. They looked very pretty and
delicate, so that I really thought they were girls. The dance
itself is very monotonous, slow, and wearisome; it consists only of
some steps to and fro, accompanied by some rather indecorous
movements of the upper part of the body. These gestures are said to
be very difficult, as the dancer must stand perfectly still, and
only move the upper part of his person. The music consisted of a
tambourine, a flageolet, and a bagpipe. Much has been written
concerning the indecency of these dances; but I am of opinion that
many of our ballets afford much greater cause of complaint. It may,
however, be that other dances are performed of which the general
public are not allowed to be spectators; but I only speak of what is
done openly. I would also by far prefer a popular festival in the
East to a fair in our highly-civilised states. The Oriental feasts
were to me a source of much enjoyment, for the people always behaved
most decorously. They certainly shouted, and pushed, and elbowed
each other like an European mob; but no drunken men were to be seen,
and it was very seldom that a serious quarrel occurred. The
commonest man, too, would never think of offering an insult to one
of the opposite sex. I should feel no compunction in sending a
young girl to this festival, though I should never think of letting
her go to the fair held at Vienna on St. Bridget's day.
The people were assembled in vast numbers, and the crowd was very
great, yet we could pass every where on our donkeys.
At about three o'clock my servant sought out an elevated place for
me, for the great spectacle was soon to come, and the crushing and
bustle had already reached their highest pitch. At length a portly
priest could be descried riding along on a splendid horse; before
him marched eight or ten dervishes with flags flying, and behind him
a number of men, among whom were also many dervishes. In the midst
of the square the procession halted; a few soldiers pushed their way
among the people, whom they forced to stand back and leave a road.
Whenever the spectators did not obey quickly, a stick was brought
into action, which soon established order in a most satisfactory
manner.
The procession now moved on once more, the standard-bearers and
dervishes making all kinds of frantic gestures, as though they had
just escaped from a madhouse. On reaching the place where the
spectators formed a lane, the dervishes and several other men threw
themselves down with their faces to the ground in a long row, with
their heads side by side. And then--oh horror!--the priest rode
over the backs of these miserable men as upon a bridge. Then they
all sprang up again as though nothing had happened, and rejoined the
advancing train with their former antics and grimaces. One man
stayed behind, writhing to and fro as if his back had been broken,
but in a few moments' time he went away as unconcernedly as his
comrades. Each of the actors in this scene considers himself
extremely fortunate in having attained to such a distinction, and
this feeling even extends to his relations and friends.
SHUBRA.
One afternoon I paid a visit to the beautiful garden and country-
house of the Viceroy of Egypt. A broad handsome street leads
between alleys of sycamores, and the journey occupies about an hour
and a half. Immediately upon my arrival I was conducted to an out-
building, in the yard belonging to which a fine large elephant was
to be shewn. I had already seen several of these creatures, but
never such a fine specimen as this. Its bulk was truly marvellous;
its body clean and smooth, and of a dark-brown colour.
The park is most lovely; and the rarest plants are here seen
flourishing in the open air, in the fulness of bloom and beauty,
beside those we are accustomed to see every day. On the whole,
however, I was better pleased with the garden at Rodda. The palace,
too, is very fine. The ceilings of the rooms are lofty, and richly
ornamented with gilding, paintings, and marble. The rooms
appropriated to the viceroy's consort are no less magnificent; the
ascent to them is by a broad staircase on each side. On the ground-
floor is situate the favourite apartment of the autocrat of Cairo,
furnished in the style of the reception-halls at Damascus. A
fountain of excellent water diffuses a delicious coolness around.
In the palace itself we find several large cages for parrots and
other beautiful birds. What pleased me most of all was, however,
the incomparable kiosk, lying in the garden at some distance from
the palace. It is 130 paces long and 100 broad, surrounded by
arcades of glorious pillars. This kiosk contains in its interior a
large and beautiful fountain; and at the four corners of the
building are terraces, from which the water falls in the form of
little cataracts, afterwards uniting with the fountain, and shooting
upwards in the shape of a mighty pillar. All things around us, the
pavilion and the pillars, the walls and the fountain, are alike
covered with beautiful marble of a white or light-brown colour; the
pavilion is even arranged so that it can be lighted with gas.
From this paradise of the living I rode to the abode of the dead,
the celebrated "world of graves," which is to be seen in the desert.
Here are to be found a number of ancient sepulchres, but most of
them resemble ruins, and to find out their boasted beauty is a thing
left to the imagination of every traveller. I only admired the
sepulchre of Mehemet Ali's two sons, in which the bones of his wife
also rest: this is a beautiful building of stone; five cupolas rise
above the magnificent chambers where the sarcophagi are deposited.
The petrified date-wood lies about eight miles distant from Cairo; I
rode out there, but did not find much to see, excepting here and
there some fragments of stems and a few petrifactions lying about.
It is said that the finest part of this "petrified wood" begins some
miles away; but I did not penetrate so far.
During my residence in Cairo the heat once reached 36 degrees
Reaumur, and yet I found it much more endurable than I had expected.
I was not annoyed at all by insects or vermin; but I was obliged to
be careful not to leave any provisions in my room throughout the
night. An immense swarm of minute ants would seize upon every kind
of eatable, particularly bread. One evening I left a roll upon the
table, and the next morning found it half eaten away, and covered
with ants within and without. It is here an universal custom to
place the feet of the tables in little dishes filled with water, to
keep off these insects.
EXCURSION TO SUEZ.
It had originally been my intention to stay at Cairo a week at the
furthest, and afterwards to return to Alexandria. But the more I
saw, the more my curiosity became excited, and I felt irresistibly
impelled to proceed. I had now travelled in almost every way, but I
had not yet tried an excursion on a camel. I therefore made inquiry
as to the distance, danger, and expense of a journey to Suez on the
Red Sea. The distance was a thirty-six hours' journey, the danger
was said to be nil, and the expense they estimated at about 250
piastres.
I therefore hired two strong camels, one for me, the other for my
servant and the camel-driver, and took nothing with me in the way of
provisions but bread, dates, a piece of roast meat, and hardboiled
eggs. Skins of water were hung at each side of the camels, for we
had to take a supply which would last us the journey and during our
return.
If we ride every day for twelve hours, this journey occupies six
days, there and back. But as I was unable to depart until the
afternoon of the 26th, and was obliged to be in Alexandria at latest
by the 30th, in order not to miss the steamer, I had only four days
and a half to accomplish it in. Thus this excursion was the most
fatiguing I had ever undertaken.
At four in the afternoon I rode through the town-gate, where the
camels were waiting for us; we mounted them and commenced our
journey.
The desert begins at the town-gates, but for the first few miles we
have a sight of some very fruitful country on the left, until at
length we leave town and trees behind us, and with them all the
verdure, and find ourselves surrounded on all sides by a sea of
sand.
For the first four or five hours I was not ill-pleased with this
mode of travelling. I had plenty of room on my camel, and could sit
farther back or forward as I chose, and had provisions and a bottle
of water at my side. Besides this, the heat was not oppressive; I
felt very comfortable, and could look down from my high throne
almost with a feeling of pride upon the passing caravans. Even the
swaying motion of the camel, which causes in some travellers a
feeling of sickness and nausea like that produced by a sea-voyage,
did not affect me. But after a few hours I began to feel the
fatigues and discomforts of a journey of this kind. The swinging
motion pained and fatigued me, as I had no support against which I
could lean. The desire to sleep also arose within me, and it can be
imagined how uncomfortable I felt. But I was resolved to go to
Suez; and if all my hardships had been far worse, I would not have
turned back. I summoned all my fortitude, and rode without halting
for fifteen hours, from four in the afternoon until seven the next
morning.
During the night we passed several trains of camels, some in motion,
some at rest, often consisting of more than a hundred. We were not
exposed to the least annoyance, although we had attached ourselves
to no caravan, but were pursuing our way alone.
From Cairo to Suez posts are established at every five or six hours'
journey, and at each of these posts there stands a little house of
two rooms for the convenience of travellers. These huts were built
by an English innkeeper established at Cairo; but they can only be
used by very rich people, as the prices charged are most exorbitant.
Thus, for instance, a bed for one night costs a hundred piastres, a
little chicken twenty, and a bottle of water two piastres. The
generality of travellers encamp before the house, and I followed the
same plan, lying down for an hour in the sand while the camels ate
their scanty meal. My health and bodily strength are, I am happy to
say, so excellent, that I am ready after a very short rest to
encounter new fatigues. After this hour of repose I once more
mounted my camel to continue my journey.
August 27th.
It may easily be imagined that the whole scene by which we are here
surrounded has over it an air of profound and deathlike stillness.
The sea, where we behold nothing but water around us, presents more
of life to divert the mind. The very rushing and splash of the
wheels, the bounding waves, the bustle of bending or reefing sails,
and the crowding of people on the steamer, brings varied pictures to
temper the monotony around. Even the ride through the stony deserts
which I had traversed in Syria has not so much sameness, for there
we at least hear the tramp of the horse and the sound of many a
rolling stone; the traveller's attention is, besides, kept
continually on the stretch in guiding each step that his horse
takes, to avoid the risk of a fall. But all this is wanting in a
journey through a sandy desert. No bird hovers in the air, not a
butterfly is here to gladden the eye, not even an insect or a worm
crawls on the ground; not a living creature is, in fact, to be seen,
but the little vultures preying on the carcasses of fallen camels.
Even the tread of the heavy-footed camel is muffled by the deep
sand, and nothing is ever heard but the moaning of these poor
animals when their driver forces them to lie down to take off their
burden; most probably the exertion of stooping hurts them. The
driver beats the camel on the knee with a stick, and pulls its head
towards him by a rope fastened to it like a halter. During this
operation the rider must hold very fast in order not to fall off,
for suddenly the creature drops on its fore-knees, then on its hind
legs, and at length sits completely down on the ground. When you
mount the animal again, it becomes necessary to keep a vigilant eye
upon him, for as soon as he feels your foot on his neck he wishes to
rise.
As I have already said, we see nothing on this journey but many and
large companies of camels, which march one behind the other, while
their drivers shorten the way with dreary inharmonious songs. Half-
devoured carcasses of these "ships of the desert" lie every where,
with jackals and vultures gnawing at them. Even living camels are
sometimes seen staggering about, which have been left to starve by
their masters as unfit for further service. I shall never forget
the piteous look of one of these poor creatures which I saw dragging
itself to and fro in the desert, anxiously seeking for food and
drink. What a cruel being is man! Why could he not put an end to
the poor camel's pain by a blow with a knife? One would imagine
that the air in the vicinity of these fallen animals was poisoned;
but here this is less the case than it would be in more temperate
regions, for the pure air and the great heat of the desert rather
dry up than decompose corpses.
From the same cause our piece of roast beef was still good on the
fifth day. The hard-boiled eggs, which my servant packed so
clumsily that they got smashed in the very first hour, did not
become foul. Both meat and eggs were shrunk and dried up. On the
third day the white bread had become as hard as ship-biscuit, so
that we had to break it up and soak it in water. Our drinking water
became worse day by day, and smelt abominably of the leathern
receptacles in which we were compelled to keep it. Until we reached
Suez our poor camels got not a drop to drink, and their food
consisted of a scanty meal of bad provender once a day.
At eight in the morning we set off once more, and rode until about
five in the afternoon. At about four I suddenly descried the Red
Sea and its shores. This circumstance delighted me, for I felt
assured that we should reach the coast in the course of another
hour, and then our laborious journey to Suez would be accomplished.
I called to my servant, pointed out the sea to him, and expressed my
surprise that we had sighted it so soon. He maintained, however,
that what I beheld was not the sea, but a fata morgana. At first I
refused to believe him, because the thing seemed so real. But after
an hour had elapsed we were as far from the sea as ever, and at
length the mirage vanished; and I did not behold the real sea until
six o'clock on the following morning, when it appeared in exactly
the same way as the phantom of the previous evening.
At five in the afternoon we at length halted. I lay down on the
earth completely exhausted, and enjoyed a refreshing sleep for more
than three hours, when I was awakened by my servant, who informed me
that a caravan was just before us, which we should do well to join,
as the remainder of our road was far less safe than the portion we
had already traversed. I was at once ready to mount my camel, and
at eight o'clock we were again in motion.
In a short time we had overtaken the caravan, and our camels were
placed in the procession, each beast being tethered to the preceding
one by a rope. It was already quite dark, and I could barely
distinguish that the people sitting on the camels before me were an
Arab family. They travelled in boxes resembling hen-coops, about a
foot and a half in height, four feet in length, and as many broad.
In a box of this kind two or three men sat cross-legged; many had
even spread a light tent over their heads. Suddenly I heard my name
called by a female voice. I started, and thought I must be
mistaken, for whom in the world could I meet here who knew my
Christian name? But once more a voice cried very distinctly, "Ida!
Ida!" and a servant came up, and told me that some Arab women, who
had made the voyage from Atfe to Cairo in company with me, were
seated on the first camel. They sent to tell me that they were on
their way to Mecca, and rejoiced to meet me once more. I was indeed
surprised that I should have made such an impression on these good
people that they had not forgotten my name.
To-night I saw a glorious natural phenomenon, which so surprised me
that I could not refrain from uttering a slight scream. It may have
been about eleven o'clock, when suddenly the sky on my left was
lighted up, as though every thing were in flames; a great fiery ball
shot through the air with lightning speed, and disappeared on the
horizon, while at the same moment the gleam in the atmosphere
vanished, and darkness descended once more on all around. We
travelled on throughout the whole of this night.
August 28th.
At six o'clock this morning we came in sight of the Red Sea. The
mountain-chain of Mokattam can be discerned some time previously.
Some way from Suez we came upon a well of bad, brackish water.
Notwithstanding all drawbacks, the supply was eagerly hailed. Our
people shouted, scolded, and pushed each other to get the best
places; camels, horses, asses, and men rushed pell-mell towards the
well, and happy was he who could seize upon a little water. There
are barracks near this well, and soldiers are posted here to promote
peace--by means of the stick.
The little town of Suez lies spread out on the sea-shore, and can be
very distinctly seen from here. The unhappy inhabitants are
compelled to draw their supplies either from this well, or from one
on the sea-coast four miles below Suez. In the first case the water
is brought on camels, horses, or asses; in the second it is
transported by sea in boats or small ships.
The Red Sea is here rather narrow, and surrounded by sand of a
yellowish-brown hue; immediately beyond the isthmus is the
continuation of the great Libyan Desert. The mountain-range of
Mokattam skirts the plain on the right, from Cairo to the Red Sea.
We quite lose sight of this range until within the last ten or
twelve hours before reaching Suez. The mountains are of moderate
elevation and perfectly bare; but still the eye rests with pleasure
on the varied forms of the rocks.
[Illustration 8. Isthmus of Suez. ill8.jpg]
After an hour's rest beside the well, we were still unable to
procure water for our poor beasts, and hastened, therefore, to reach
the town. At nine in the morning we were already within its walls.
Of the town and its environs I can say nothing, excepting that they
both present a very melancholy appearance, as there is nowhere a
garden or a cluster of trees to be seen.
I paid my respects to the consul, and introduced myself to him as an
Austrian subject. He was kind enough to assign me a room in his own
house, and would on no account permit me to take up my quarters in
an inn. It was a pity that I could only converse with this
gentleman by means of a dragoman; he was a Greek by birth, and only
knew the Arabic language and his own. He is the richest merchant in
Suez (his wealth is estimated at 150,000 collonati), and only
discharges the functions of French and Austrian consul as an
honorary duty.
In the little town itself there is nothing remarkable to be seen.
On the sea-coast they shewed me the place where Moses led the
children of Israel through the Red Sea. The sinking of the tide at
its ebb is here so remarkable that whole islands are left bare, and
large caravans are able to march through the sea, as the water only
reaches to the girths of the camels, and the Arabs and Bedouins even
walk through. As it happened to be ebb-tide when I arrived, I rode
through also, for the glory of the thing. On these shores I found
several pretty shells; but the real treasures of this kind are
fished out of the deep at Ton, a few days' journey higher up. I saw
whole cargoes of mother-of-pearl shells carried away.
I remained at Suez until four in the afternoon, and recruited my
energies perfectly with an excellent dinner, at which tolerably good
water was not wanting. The consul kindly gave me a bottle, as
provision for my journey. He has it fetched from a distance of
twelve miles, as all the water that can be procured in the
neighbourhood tastes brackish and salt. In the inn a bottle of
water costs two piastres.
The first night of my homeward journey was passed partly in a
Bedouin encampment and partly on the road, in the company of
different caravans. I found the Bedouins to be very good, obliging
people, among whom I might wander as I pleased, without being
exposed to injury. On the contrary, while I was in their encampment
they brought me a straw-mat and a chest, in order that I might have
a comfortable seat.
The homeward journey was just as monotonous and wearisome as that to
Suez, with the additional fact that I had a quarrel with my people
the day before its termination. Feeling exceedingly fatigued by a
lengthened ride, I ordered my servant to stop the camels, as I
wished to sleep for a few hours. The rascals refused to obey,
alleging that the road was not safe, and that we should endeavour to
overtake a caravan. This was, however, nothing but an excuse to get
home as quickly as possible. But I was not to be frightened, and
insisted that my desire should be complied with, telling them
moreover that I had inquired of the consul at Suez concerning the
safety of the roads, and had once more heard that there was nothing
to fear. Notwithstanding all this they would not obey, but
continued to advance. I now became angry, and desired the servant
once more to stop my camel, as I was fully determined not to proceed
another step.
I told him I had hired both camels and men, and had therefore a
right to be mistress; if he did not choose to obey me, he might go
his way with the camel-driver, and I would join the first caravan I
met, and bring him to justice, let it cost me what it would. The
fellow now stopped my camel, and went away with the other and the
camel-driver. He probably expected to frighten me by this
demonstration, and to compel me to follow; but he was vastly
mistaken. I remained standing where I was, and as often as he
turned to look at me, made signs that he might go his way, but that
I should stay. When he saw how fearless and determined I was, he
turned back, came to me, made my camel kneel down, and after helping
me to alight, prepared me a resting-place on a heap of sand, where I
slept delightfully for five hours; then I ordered my things to be
packed up, mounted my camel, and continued my journey.
My conduct astonished my followers to such a degree, that they
afterwards asked me every few hours if I wished to rest. On our
arrival at Cairo the camel-driver had not even the heart to make the
customary demand for backsheesh, and my servant begged pardon for
his conduct, and hoped that I would not mention the difference we
had had to the consul.
The maximum temperature during this journey was 43 degrees Reaumur,
and when it was perfectly calm I really felt as if I should be
stifled.
This journey from Cairo to Suez can, however, be accomplished in a
carriage in the space of twenty hours. The English innkeeper
established at Cairo has had a very light carriage, with seats for
four, built expressly for this purpose; but a place in this vehicle
costs five pounds for the journey there, and the same sum for the
return.
On the following day I once more embarked on board an Arabian vessel
for Alexandria. Before my departure I had a terrible quarrel with
the donkey-driver whom I usually employed. These men, as in fact
all fellahs, are accustomed to cheat strangers in every possible
way, but particularly with coins. They usually carry bad money
about with them, which they can substitute for the good at the
moment when they are paid, with the dexterity of jugglers. My
donkey-driver endeavoured to play me this trick when I rode to the
ship; he saw that I should not require his services any more, and
therefore wished to cheat me as a parting mark of attention. This
attempt disgusted me so much that I could not refrain from
brandishing my whip at him in a very threatening manner, although I
was alone among a number of his class. My gesture had the desired
effect; the driver instantly retreated, and I remained victor.
My reader would do me a great wrong by the supposition that I
mention these circumstances to make a vaunt of my courage; I am sure
that the fact of my having undertaken this journey alone will be
sufficient to clear me from the imputation of cowardice. I wish
merely to give future travellers a hint as to the best method of
dealing with these people. Their respect can only be secured by the
display of a firm will; and I am sure that in my case they were the
more intimidated as they had never expected to find so much
determination in a woman.
CHAPTER XVII.
Return to Alexandria--Egyptian burials--Catacombs of Alexandria--
Viceroy's palace--Departure from Alexandria--The steamer Eurotas--
Candia--Syra--Paros and Antiparos--The Morea--Fire on board--Malta--
Quarantine--St. Augustine's church--Clergymen--Beggars--Costumes--
Soldiers--Civita Vecchia.
September 5th.
At five o'clock in the evening of the 2d of September I commenced my
journey back to Alexandria. During the fortnight I remained at
Cairo the Nile had continued to rise considerably, and the interest
of the region had increased in proportion. In three days' time I
arrived safely at Alexandria, and again put up at Colombier's. Two
days had still to elapse before the departure of the French steam-
vessel, and I made use of this time to take a closer survey of the
town and its environs.
On my arrival at Alexandria I met two Egyptian funerals. The first
was that of a poor man, and not a soul followed the coffin. The
corpse lay in a wooden box without a lid, a coarse blanket had been
spread over it, and four men carried the coffin. The second funeral
had a more respectable air. The coffin, indeed, was not less rude,
but the dead man was covered with a handsome shawl, and four
"mourning women" followed the body, raising a most dolorous howl
from time to time. A motley crowd of people closed the procession.
The corpse was laid in the grave without the coffin.
The catacombs of Alexandria are very extensive, and well worth a
visit. A couple of miles from them we see the celebrated plain on
which the army of Julius Caesar was once posted. The cistern and
bath of Cleopatra were both under water. I could, therefore, only
see the place where they stood.
The viceroy's palace, a spacious building inclining to the European
style, has a pleasing effect. Its interior arrangement is also
almost wholly European.
The bazaar contains nothing worthy of remark. The arsenal looks
very magnificent when viewed from without. It is difficult to
obtain admission into this building, and you run the risk of being
insulted by the workmen. The hospital has the appearance of a
private house.
I was astonished at the high commission which is here demanded on
changing small sums of money. In changing a collonato, a coin very
much used in this country, and worth about two guilders, the
applicant must lose from half a piastre to two piastres, according
to the description of coin he requires. If beshliks {261} are
taken, the commission charged is half a piastre; but if piastres are
wanted, two must be paid. The government value of a collonato is
twenty piastres; in general exchange it is reckoned at twenty-two,
and at the consulate's at twenty-one piastres.
DEPARTURE FROM ALEXANDRIA.
September 7th.
At eight o'clock in the morning I betook myself on board the French
steam-packet Eurotas, a beautiful large vessel of 160-horse power.
At nine o'clock we weighed anchor.
The weather was very unfavourable. Though it did not rain, we
continually had contrary winds, and the sea generally ran high. In
consequence we did not sight the island of Candia until the evening
of the third day, four-and-twenty hours later than we should have
done under ordinary circumstances.
Two women, who came on board as passengers to Syra, were so
violently attacked by sea-sickness, that they left the deck a few
hours after we got under way, and did not reappear until they landed
at Syra. A very useful arrangement on board the French vessel is
the engagement of a female attendant, whose assistance sometimes
becomes very necessary. Heaven be praised, I had not much to fear
from the attacks of sea-sickness. The weather must be very bad--as,
for instance, during our passage through the Black Sea--before my
health is affected, and even then I recover rapidly. During our
whole voyage, even when the weather was wretched, I remained
continually on deck, so that during the day-time I could not miss
seeing even the smallest islet. On
September 10th,
late in the evening, we discovered the island of Candia or Crete,
and the next morning we were pretty close to it. We could, however,
distinguish nothing but bare unfruitful mountains, the tallest among
which, my namesake Mount Ida, does not look more fertile than the
rest. On the right loomed the island of Scarpanto. We soon left it
in our wake, and also passed the Brothers' Islands, and many others,
some of them small and uninhabited, besides separate colossal rocks,
towering majestically into the sea. Soon afterwards we passed the
islands Santorin and Anaph.
The latter of these islands is peculiarly beautiful. In the
foreground a village lies at the foot of a high mountain, with its
peak surmounted by a little church. On the side towards the sea
this rock shoots downwards so perpendicularly, that we might fancy
it had been cut off with a saw.
Since we had come in sight of Candia, we had not been sailing on the
high seas. Scarcely did one island vanish from our view, before it
was replaced by another. On
September 11th,
between three and four in the morning, we reached Syra. The
terrible contrary winds with which we had been obliged to contend
during almost the whole of our passage had caused us to arrive a day
behind our time, to make up for which delay we only stayed half a
day here, instead of a day and a half. This was a matter of
indifference to those of us who were travelling further, for as we
came from Egypt, we should not have been allowed in any case to
disembark. Those who landed here proceeded at once to the
quarantine-house.
Syra possesses a fine harbour. From our vessel we had a view over
the whole town and its environs. An isolated mountain, crowned by a
convent and church, the seat of the bishop, rises boldly from the
very verge of the shore. The town winds round this mountain in the
form of several wreaths, until it almost reaches the episcopal
buildings. The background closes with the melancholy picture of a
barren mountain-chain. A lighthouse stands on a little neighbouring
island. The quarantine establishment looks cheerful enough, and is
situate at a little distance from the town on the sea-shore.
It was Sunday when we arrived here; and as Syra belongs to Greece, I
here heard the sound of bells like those of Mount Lebanon, and once
more their strain filled me with deep and indescribable emotion.
Never do we think so warmly of our home as when we are solitary and
alone among strange people in a far-distant land!
I would gladly have turned aside from my route to visit Athens,
which I might have reached in a few hours; but then I should once
more have been compelled to keep quarantine, and perhaps on leaving
Greece the infliction would have to be borne a third time, a risk
which I did not wish to run. I therefore preferred keeping
quarantine at Malta, and having done with it at once.
On the same day at two o'clock we once more set sail. This day and
the following I remained on deck as much as possible, bidding
defiance to wind and rain, and gazing at the islands as we glided
past one after another. As one island disappeared, another rose in
its place. Groups of isolated rocks also rose at intervals, like
giants from the main, to form a feature in the changing panorama.
On the right, in the far distance, we could distinguish Paros and
Antiparos, on the left the larger Chermian Isles; and at length we
passed close to Cervo (Stag's Island), which is particularly
distinguished by the beauty of its mountain-range. Here, as at
Syra, we find an isolated mountain, round which a town winds almost
to its summit.
September 12th.
As I came on deck to-day with the sun, the mainland of the Morea was
in sight on our right,--a great plain, with many villages scattered
over its surface, and a background of bare hills. After losing
sight of the Morea we sailed once more on the high seas.
This day might have had a tragical termination for us. I was
sitting as usual on deck, when I noticed an unusual stir among the
sailors and officers, and even the commander ran hastily towards me.
Nevertheless I did not dare to ask what had happened; for in
proportion as the French are generally polite, they are proud and
overbearing on board their steamers. I therefore remained quietly
seated, and contented myself with watching every movement of the
officers and men. Several descended to the coal-magazine, returning
heated, blackened by the coals, and dripping with water. At length
a cabin-boy came hurrying by me; and upon my asking him what was the
matter, he replied in a whisper, that fire had broken out in the
coal-room. Now I knew the whole extent of our danger, and yet could
do nothing but keep my seat, and await whatever fate should bring
us. It was most fortunate for us that the fire occurred during the
daytime, and had been immediately discovered by the engine-man.
Double chain-pumps were rigged, and the whole magazine was laid
under water,--a proceeding which had the effect of extinguishing the
flames. The other passengers knew nothing of our danger; they were
all asleep or sitting quietly in the cabins; the sailors were
forbidden to tell them what had happened, and even my informant the
cabin-boy begged me not to betray him. We had three hundredweight
of gunpowder on board.
September 14th.
We did not come in sight of land until this evening, when the goal
of our journey appeared.
MALTA.
We cast anchor in the harbour of Lavalette at seven o'clock.
During the whole of our journey from Alexandria the wind had been
very unfavourable; the sea was frequently so agitated, that we could
not walk across the deck without the assistance of a sailor.
The distance from Alexandria via Syra to Malta is 950 sea-miles. We
took eight days to accomplish this distance, landing only at Syra.
The heat was moderate enough, seldom reaching 28 or 29 degrees
Reaumur.
The appearance of Malta is picturesque; it contains no mountains,
and consists entirely of hills and rocks.
The town of Lavalette is surrounded by three lines of
fortifications, winding like steps up the hill on which the town
lies; the latter contains large fine houses, all built of stone.
September 15th.
This morning at eight o'clock we disembarked, and were marched off
to keep quarantine in the magnificent castle of the Knights of St.
John.
This building stands on a hill, affording a view over the whole
island in the direction of Civita Vecchia. We found here a number
of clean rooms, and were immediately supplied with furniture,
bedding, etc. by the establishment at a very reasonable charge. Our
host at once despatched to every guest a bill of fare for breakfast
and dinner, so that each one can choose what he wishes, without
being cheated as to the prices. The keepers here are very obliging
and attentive; they almost all know something of Italian, and
execute any commission with which they are entrusted punctually and
well. The building for the incarcerated ones is situate on an
elevated plateau. It has two large wings, one on each side, one
story high, containing apartments each with a separate entrance.
Adjoining the courtyard is the inn, and not far from it the church;
neither, however, may be visited by the new-comers. The requisite
provisions are procured for them by a keeper, who takes them to the
purchasers. The church is always kept locked. A broad handsome
terrace, with a prospect over the sea, the town of Lavalette, and
the whole island, forms the foreground of the picture. This terrace
and the ramparts behind the houses form very agreeable walks. The
courtyard of our prison is very spacious, and we are allowed to walk
about in it as far as a statue which stands in the middle. Until
ten o'clock at night we enjoy our liberty; but when this hour
arrives, we are sent to our respective rooms and locked up. The
apartments of the keepers are quite separate from ours.
The arrangements of the whole establishment are so good and
comfortable, that we almost forget that we are prisoners. What a
contrast to the quarantine-house at Alexandria!
If a traveller receives a visitor, he is not separated from his
guest by ditches and bars, but stands only two steps from him in the
courtyard. The windows here are not grated; and though our clothes
were hung on horses to air, neither we nor our effects were smoked
out. If it had not been for the delay it caused, I should really
have spent the eighteen days of my detention here very pleasantly.
But I wished to ascend Mount Etna, and was a fixture here until the
2d of October.
October 1st.
The quarantine doctor examined us in a very superficial manner, and
pronounced that we should be free to-morrow. Upon this a boisterous
hilarity prevailed. The prisoners rejoiced at the prospect of
speedy release, and shouted, sang, and danced in the courtyard. The
keepers caught the infection, and all was mirth and good-humour
until late in the night.
October 2d.
At seven o'clock this morning we were released from thraldom. A
scene similar to that at Alexandria then took place; every one
rushed to seize upon the strangers. It is here necessary that the
traveller should be as much upon his guard as in Egypt among the
Arabs, in the matters of boat-fares, porterage, etc. If a bargain
is not struck beforehand, the people are most exorbitant in their
demands.
A few days before our release, I had made an arrangement with an
innkeeper for board, lodging, and transport. Today he came to fetch
me and my luggage, and we crossed the arm of the sea which divides
Fort Manuel from the town of Lavalette.
A flight of steps leads from the shore into the town, past the three
rows of fortifications rising in tiers above each other. In each of
these divisions we find streets and houses. The town, properly
speaking, lies quite at the top; it is therefore necessary to mount
and descend frequently, though not nearly so often as at
Constantinople. The streets are broad and well paved, the houses
spacious and finely built; the place of roofs is supplied by
terraces, frequently parcelled out into little flower-beds, which
present a very agreeable appearance.
My host gave me a tiny room, and meals on the same principle--coffee
with milk morning and evening, and three dishes at dinner-time; but
for all this I did not pay more than forty-five kreutzers, or about
one shilling and sixpence.
The first thing I did after taking up my quarters here was to hasten
to a church to return thanks to the Almighty for the protection He
had so manifestly extended to me upon my long and dangerous journey.
The first church which I entered at Lavalette was dedicated to St.
Augustine. I was particularly pleased with it, for since my
departure from Vienna I had not seen one so neatly or so well built.
Afterwards I visited the church of St. John, and was much struck
with its splendour. This building is very spacious, and the floor
is completely covered with monumental slabs of marble, covering the
graves of the knights. The ceiling is ornamented with beautiful
frescoes, and the walls are sculptured from ceiling to floor with
arabesques, leaves, and flowers, in sandstone.
All these ornaments are richly gilt, and present a peculiarly
imposing appearance. The side-chapels contain numerous monuments,
mostly of white marble, and one single one of black, in memory of
celebrated Maltese knights. At the right-hand corner of the church
is the so-called "rose-coloured" chapel. It is hung round with a
heavy silk stuff of a red colour, which diffuses a roseate halo over
all the objects around. The altar is surrounded by a high massive
railing. Two only of the paintings are well executed--namely, that
over the high altar, and a piece representing Christ on the cross.
The pillars round the altar are of marble; and at each side of the
grand altar rise lofty canopies of red velvet fringed with gold,
reaching almost to the vaulted cupola.
The uncomfortable custom of carrying chairs to and fro during
church-time, which is so universal throughout Italy, begins already
at Malta.
The predilection for the clerical profession seems to prevail here,
as it does throughout Italy; I could almost say that every fifteenth
person we meet either is a clergyman or intends to become one.
Children of ten or twelve years already run about in the black gown
and three-cornered hat.
The streets are handsome and cleanly kept, particularly the one
which intersects the town; some of them are even watered. The
counters of the dealers' shops contain the most exquisite wares; in
fact, every where we find indications that we are once more on
European ground.
When we see the Fachini here, with their dark worked caps or round
straw hats, their short jackets and comfortable trousers, with
jaunty red sashes round their waists, and their bold free glance,--
when we contrast them with the wretched fellahs of Egypt, and
consider that these men both belong to the same class in society,
and that the fellahs even inhabit the more fruitful country, we
begin to have our doubts of Mehemet Ali's benignant rule.
The governor's palace, a great square building, stands on a
magnificent open space; next to it is the library; and opposite, the
chief guard-house rears its splendid front, graced with pillars.
The coffee-houses here are very large; they are kept comfortably and
clean, particularly that on the great square, which is brilliantly
illuminated every evening.
Women and girls appear dressed in black; they are usually accustomed
to throw a wide cloak over their other garments, and wear a mantilla
which conceals arms, chest, and head. The face is left uncovered,
and I saw some very lovely ones smiling forth from the black
drapery. Rich people wear these upper garments of silk; the cloaks
of the poorer classes are made of merino or cheap woollen stuffs.
It was Sunday when I entered Lavalette for the first time. Every
street and church was thronged with people, all of whom were neatly
and decently dressed. I saw but few beggars, and those whom I met
were less ragged than the generality of their class.
The military, the finest I had ever seen, consisted entirely of tall
handsome men, mostly Scotchmen. Their uniforms were very tasteful.
One regiment wore scarlet jackets and white linen trousers; another,
black jackets and shoulder-knots,--in fact, the whole uniform is
black, with the exception of the trousers, which are of white linen.
It seemed much more the fashion to drive than to ride here. The
coaches are of a very peculiar kind, which I hardly think can be
found elsewhere. They consist of a venerable old rattling double-
seated box, swinging upon two immense wheels, and drawn by a single
horse in shafts. The coachman generally runs beside his vehicle.
October 3d.
To-day I drove in a carriage (for the first time since my departure
from Vienna, a period of six months and a half) to Civita Vecchia,
to view this ancient town of Malta, and particularly the celebrated
church of St. Peter and St. Paul. On this occasion I traversed the
whole length of the island, and had an opportunity of viewing the
interior.
Malta consists of a number of little elevations, and is intersected
in all directions by excellent roads. I also continually passed
handsome villages, some of them so large that they looked like
thriving little towns. The heights are frequently crowned by
churches of considerable extent and beauty; although the whole
island consists of rock and sandstone, vegetation is sufficiently
luxurious. Fig, lemon, and orange trees grow every where, and
plantations of the cotton-shrub are as common as potato-fields in my
own country. The stems of these shrubs are not higher than potato-
plants, and are here cultivated exactly in the same way. I was told
that they had been stunted this year by the excessive drought, but
that in general they grew a foot higher.
The peasants were every where neatly dressed, and live in commodious
well-built houses, universally constructed of stone, and furnished
with terraces in lieu of roofs.
CIVITA VECCHIA
is a town of splendid houses and very elegant country-seats. Many
inhabitants of Lavalette spend the summer here, in the highest
portion of the island.
The church of St. Peter and St. Paul is a spacious building, with a
simple interior. The floor is covered merely with stone slabs; the
walls are white-washed to the ceiling, but the upper portion is
richly ornamented with arabesques. A beautiful picture hanging
behind the high altar represents a storm at sea. The view from the
hall of the convent is magnificent; we can overlook almost the
entire island, and beyond our gaze loses itself in the boundless
expanse of ocean.
Near the church stands a chapel, beneath which is St. Paul's grotto,
divided into two parts: in the first of these divisions we find a
splendid statue of St. Paul in white marble; the second was the
dungeon of the apostle.
Not far from this chapel, at the extremity of the town, are the
catacombs, which resemble those at Rome, Naples, and other towns.
During our drive back we made a little detour to see the gorgeous
summer-palace and garden of the governor.
The whole excursion occupied about seven hours. During my residence
in Malta the heat varied from 20 to 25 degrees Reaumur in the sun.
CHAPTER XVIII.
The steamer Hercules--Syracuse--Neapolis--Ruins--Catanea--Convent of
St. Nicholas--Messina--The Duke of Calabria--Palermo--The royal
palace--Church of St. Theresa--St. Ignazio--Catacombs of the
Augustine convent--Skeletons--Olivuzza --Royal villa "Favorite"--St.
Rosalia--Brutality of the Italian mob--Luxuriant vegetation--Arrival
at Naples.
October 4th.
At eight o'clock in the evening I embarked on board the Sicilian
steamer Hercules, of 260-horse power, the largest and finest vessel
I had yet seen. The officers here were not nearly so haughty and
disobliging as those on board the Eurotas. Even now I cannot think
without a smile of the airs the captain of the latter vessel gave
himself. He appeared to consider that he had as good a right to be
an admiral as Bruys.
At ten o'clock we steamed out of the harbour of Lavalette. As it
was already dark night, I went below and retired to rest.
October 5th.
When I hurried on deck this morning I found we were already in sight
of the Sicilian coast, and--oh happiness!--I could distinguish green
hills, wooded mountains, glorious dells, and smiling meadows,--a
spectacle I had enjoyed neither in Syria, in Egypt, nor even at
Malta. Now I thought at length to behold Europe, for Malta
resembles the Syrian regions too closely to favour the idea that we
are really in Europe. Towards eleven o'clock we reached
SYRACUSE.
Unfortunately we could only get four hours' leave of absence. As
several gentlemen among the passengers wished to devote these few
hours to seeing all the lions of this once rich and famous town, I
joined their party and went ashore with them. Scarcely had we
landed before we were surrounded by a number of servants and a mob
of curious people, so that we were almost obliged to make our way
forcibly through the crowd. The gentlemen hired a guide, and
desired to be at once conducted to a restaurateur, who promised to
prepare them a modest luncheon within half an hour. The prospect of
a good meal seemed of more importance in the eyes of my fellow-
passengers than any thing else. They resolved to have luncheon
first, and afterwards to take a little walk through the city.
On hearing this I immediately made a bargain with a cicerone to shew
me what he could in four hours, and went with him, leaving the
company seated at table. Though I got nothing to eat to-day but a
piece of bread and a few figs, which I despatched on the road, I saw
some sights which I would not have missed for the most sumptuous
entertainment.
Of the once spacious town nothing remains but a very small portion,
inhabited by 10,000 persons at most. The dirty streets were every
where crowded with people, as though they dwelt out of doors, while
the houses stood empty.
Accompanied by my guide, I passed hastily through the new town, and
over three or four wooden bridges to Neapolis, the part of ancient
Syracuse in which monuments of the past are seen in the best state
of preservation. First we came to the theatre. This building is
tolerably well preserved, and several of the stone seats are still
seen rising in terrace form one above the other. From this place we
betook ourselves into the amphitheatre, which is finer by far, and
where we find passages leading to the wild beasts' dens, and above
them rows of seats for spectators; all is in such good condition
that it might, at a trifling expense, be so far repaired as to be
made again available for its original purpose. Now we proceeded to
the "Ear of Dionysius," with which I was particularly struck. It
consists of a number of chambers, partly hewn out of the rock by
art, partly formed by nature, and all opening into an immensely
lofty hall, which becomes narrower and narrower towards the top,
until it at length terminates in an aperture so minute as to be
invisible from below. To this aperture Dionysius is said to have
applied his ear, in order to overhear what the captives spoke.
(This place is stated to have been used as a prison for slaves and
malefactors.) It is usual to fire a pistol here, that the stranger
may hear the reverberating echoes. A lofty opening, resembling a
great gate, forms the entrance to these rocky passages. Overgrown
with ivy, it has rather the appearance of a bower than of a place of
terror and anguish. Several of these side halls are now used as
workshops by rope-makers, while in others the manufacture of
saltpetre is carried on. The region around is rocky, but without
displaying any high mountains. I saw numerous grottoes, some of
them with magnificent entrances, which looked as though they had
been cut in the rocks by art. In one of these grottoes water fell
from above, forming a very pretty cataract.
During this excursion the time had passed so rapidly that I was soon
compelled to think, not of a visit to the catacombs, but of my
return on board.
I proceeded to the sea-shore, where the Syracusans have built a very
pretty promenade, and was rowed back to the steamer.
Of all the passengers I was the only one who had seen any thing of
Syracuse; all the rest had spent the greater part of the time
allowed them in the inn, and at most had been for a short walk in
the town. But they had obtained an exceedingly good dinner; and
thus we had each enjoyed ourselves in our own way.
At three o'clock we quitted the beautiful harbour of Syracuse, and
three hours brought us to
CATANEA.
This voyage was one of the most beautiful and interesting that can
be imagined. The traveller continually sees the most charming
landscapes of blooming Sicily; and at Syracuse we can already descry
on a clear day the giant Etna rearing its head 10,000 feet above the
level of the sea.
At six in the evening we disembarked; but those going farther had to
be on board again by midnight. I had intended to remain at Catanea
and ascend Mount Etna; but on making inquiries I was assured that
the season was too far advanced for such an undertaking, and
therefore resolved to set sail again at midnight. I went on shore
in company with a Neapolitan and his wife, for the purpose of
visiting some of the churches, a few public buildings, and the town
itself. The buildings, however, were already closed, though the
exteriors promised much. We could only deplore that we had arrived
an hour too late, and take a walk round the town. I could scarcely
wonder enough at the bustle in the crowded squares and chief
streets, and at the shouting and screaming of the people. The
number of inhabitants is about 50,000. The two chief streets,
leading in different directions from the great square, are long,
broad, and particularly well paved with large stone slabs: they
contain many magnificent houses. The only circumstance which
displeased me was, that every where, even in the chief streets, the
people dry clothes on large poles at balconies and windows. This
makes the town look as though it were inhabited by a race of
washerwomen. I should not even mind so much if they were clean
clothes; but I frequently saw the most disgusting rags fluttering in
front of splendid houses. Unfortunately this barbarous custom
prevails throughout the whole of Sicily; and even in Naples the
hanging out of clothes is only forbidden in the principal street,
the Toledo: all the other streets are full of linen.
Among the equipages, which were rolling to and fro in great numbers,
I noticed some very handsome ones. Some were standing still in the
great square, while their occupants amused themselves by looking at
the bustle around them, and chatted with friends and acquaintances
who crowded round the carriages. I found a greater appearance of
life here than either at Naples or Palermo.
The convent of St. Nicholas was unfortunately closed, so that we
could only view its exterior. It is a spacious magnificent
building, the largest, in fact, in the whole town. We also looked
at the walks on the sea-shore, which at our first arrival we had
traversed in haste in order to reach the town quickly. Beautiful
avenues extend along each side of the harbour; they are, however,
less frequented than the streets and squares. We had a beautiful
moonlight night; the promontory of Etna, with its luxurious
vegetation, as well as the giant mountain itself, were distinctly
visible in all their glory. The summit rose cloudless and free; no
smoke came from the crater, nor could we discover a trace of snow as
we returned to our ship. We noticed several heaps of lava piled
upon the sea-shore, of a perfectly black colour.
Late in the evening we adjourned to an inn to refresh ourselves with
some good dishes, and afterwards returned to the steamer, which
weighed anchor at midnight.
October 6th.
We awoke in the harbour of Messina. The situation of this town is
lovely beyond description. I was so charmed with it that I stood
for a long time on deck without thinking of landing.
A chain of beautiful hills and huge masses of rock in the background
surround the harbour and town. Every where the greatest fertility
reigns, and all things are in the most thriving and flourishing
condition. In the direction of Palermo the boundless ocean is
visible.
I now bade farewell to the splendid steamer Hercules, because I did
not intend to proceed direct to Naples, but to make a detour by way
of Palermo.
As soon as I had landed, I proceeded to the office of the merchant
M., to whom I had a letter of recommendation. I requested Herr M.
to procure me a cicerone as soon as possible, as I wished to see the
sights of Messina, and afterwards to continue my journey to Palermo.
Herr M. was kind enough to send one of his clerks with me. I rested
for half an hour, and then commenced my peregrination.
From the steamer Messina had appeared to me a very narrow place, but
on entering the town I found that I had made quite a false estimate
of its dimensions. Messina is certainly built in a very straggling
oblong form, but still its breadth is not inconsiderable.
I saw many very beautiful squares; for instance, the chief square,
with its splendid fountain ornamented with figures, and a bas-relief
of carved work in bronze. Every square contains a fountain, but we
seldom find any thing particularly tasteful. The churches are not
remarkable for the beauty of their facades, nor do they present any
thing in the way of marble statues or finely executed pictures.
The houses are generally well built, with flat roofs; the streets,
with few exceptions, are narrow, small, and very dirty. An
uncommonly broad street runs parallel with the harbour, and
contains, on one side at least, some very handsome houses. This is
a favourite place for a walk, for we can here see all the bustle and
activity of the port. Several of the palaces also are pretty; that
appropriated to the senate is the only one which can be called fine,
the staircase being constructed entirely of white marble, in a
splendid style of architecture: the halls and apartments are lofty,
and generally arched. The regal palace is also a handsome pile.
In the midst of the town I found an agreeable public garden. The
Italians appear, however, to choose the streets as places of
rendezvous, in preference to enclosures of this kind; for every
where I noticed that the garden-walks were empty, and the streets
full. But on the whole there is not nearly so much life here as at
Catanea. In order to obtain a view of the whole of Messina and its
environs I ascended a hill near the town, surmounted by a Capuchin
convent; here I enjoyed a prospect which I have seldom seen
equalled. As I gazed upon it I could easily imagine that an
inhabitant of Messina can find no place in the world so beautiful as
his native town.
The promontory against which the town leans is clothed with a carpet
of the brightest green, planted with fruit-trees of all kinds, and
enlivened with scattered towns, villages, and country seats.
Beautiful roads, appearing like white bands, intersect the mountains
on every side in the direction of the town. The background is
closed by high mountains, sometimes wooded, sometimes bare, now
rising in the form of alps, now in the shape of rocky masses. At
the foot of the hills we see the long-drawn town, the harbour with
its numerous ships, and beyond it groups of alps and rocks. The
boundless sea flows on the spectator's right and left towards
Palermo and Naples, while in the direction of Catanea the eye is
caught by mountains, with Etna towering among them.
The same evening I embarked on board the Duke of Calabria, for the
short trip of twelve or fourteen hours to Palermo. This steamer has
only engines of 80 horse-power, and every thing connected with it is
small and confined. The first-class accommodation is indeed pretty
good, but the second-class places are only calculated to contain
very few passengers. Though completely exhausted by my long and
fatiguing walk through Messina, I remained on deck, for I could not
be happy without seeing Stromboli. Unfortunately I could
distinguish very little of it. We had started from Messina at about
six o'clock in the evening, and did not come in sight of the
mountain until two hours later, when the shades of night were
already descending; we were, besides, at such a distance from it
that I could descry nothing but a colossal mass rising from the sea
and towering towards heaven. I stayed on deck until past ten
o'clock in the hope of obtaining a nearer view of Stromboli; but we
had soon left it behind us in the far distance, with other islands
which lay on the surface like misty clouds.
October 7th.
To-day I hastened on deck before sunrise, to see as much as possible
of the Sicilian coast, and to obtain an early view of Palermo. At
ten o'clock we ran into the harbour of this town.
I had been so charmed with the situation of Messina that I did not
expect ever to behold any thing more lovely; and yet the remembrance
of this town faded from my mind when
PALERMO
rose before me, surrounded by magnificent mountains, among which the
colossal rock of St. Rosalia, a huge slab of porphyry and granite,
towered high in the blue air. The combination of various colours
unites with its immense height and its peculiar construction to
render this mountain one of the most remarkable in existence. Its
summit is crowned by a temple; and a good road, partly cut out of
the rock, partly supported on lofty pillars of masonry, which we can
see from on board our vessel, leads to the convent of St. Rosalia,
and to a chapel hidden among the hills and dedicated to the same
saint.
At the foot of this mountain lies a gorgeous castle, inhabited, as
my captain told me, by an English family, who pay a yearly rent of
30,000 florins for the use of it. To the left of Palermo the
mountains open and shew the entrance into a broad and transcendently
beautiful valley, in which the town of Monreal lies with magical
effect. Several of these gaps occur along the coast, affording
glimpses of the most lovely vales, with scattered villages and
pretty country-seats.
The harbour of Palermo is picturesque and eminently safe. The town
numbers about 130,000 inhabitants. Here, too, our deck was crowded
with Fachini, innkeepers, and guides, before the anchor was fairly
lowered. I inquired of the captain respecting the price of board
and lodging, and afterwards made a bargain with a host before
leaving the ship. By following this plan I generally escaped
overcharge and inconvenience.
Arrived at the inn, I sent to Herr Schmidt, to whom I had been
recommended, with the request that he would despatch a trustworthy
cicerone to me, and make me a kind of daily scheme of what I was to
see. This was soon done, and after hurrying over my dinner I
commenced my wanderings.
I entered almost every church I passed on my way, and found them all
neat and pretty. Every where I came upon picturesque villas and
handsome houses, with glass doors instead of windows, their lower
portion guarded by iron railings and forming little balconies. Here
the women and girls sit of an evening working and talking to their
heart's content.
The streets of Palermo are far handsomer and cleaner than those of
Messina. The principal among them, Toledo and Casaro, divide the
town into four parts, and join in the chief square. The streets, as
we pass from one into another, present a peculiar appearance, filled
with bustling crowds of people moving noisily to and fro. In the
Toledo Street all the tailors seem congregated together, for the
shops on each side of the way are uniformly occupied by the votaries
of this trade, who sit at work half in their houses and half in the
street. The coffee-houses and shops are all open, so that the
passers-by can obtain a full view of the wares and of the buyers and
sellers.
The regal palace is the handsomest in the town. It contains a
gothic chapel, richly decorated; the walls are entirely covered with
paintings in mosaic, of which the drawings do not display remarkable
taste, and the ceiling is over-crowded with decorations and
arabesques. An ancient chandelier, in the form of a pillar, made of
beautiful marble and also covered with arabesques, stands beside the
pulpit. On holydays an immense candle is put in this candlestick
and lighted.
I wished to enter this chapel, but was refused admittance until I
had taken off my hat, like the men, and carried it in my hand. This
custom prevails in several churches of Palermo. The space in front
of the palace resembles a garden, from the number of avenues and
beds of flowers with which it is ornamented. Second in beauty is
the palace of the senate, but it cannot be compared with that at
Messina.
The town contains several very handsome squares, in all of which we
find several statues and fountains.
Foremost among the churches the Cathedral must be mentioned; its
gothic facade occupies one entire side of a square. A spacious
entrance-hall, with two monuments, not executed in a very fine style
of art, leads into the interior of the church, which is of
considerable extent, but built in a very simple style. The pillars,
two of which always stand together, and the four royal monuments at
the entrance, are all of Egyptian granite. The finest part of the
church is the chapel of St. Rosalia on the right, not far from the
high altar; both its walls are decorated with large bas-reliefs in
marble, beautifully executed: one of these represents the
banishment of the plague, and the finding of St. Rosalia's bones. A
splendid pillar of lapis-lazuli, said to be the largest and finest
specimen of this stone in existence, stands beside the high altar.
The two basins with raised figures at the entrance of the church
also deserve notice. The left side of the square is occupied by the
episcopal palace, a building of no pretensions.
Santa Theresia is a small church, containing nothing remarkable
except a splendid bas-relief in marble, representing the Holy
Family, which an Englishman once offered to purchase for an immense
sum. The neighbouring church of St. Pieta, on the contrary, can be
called large and grand. The facades are ornamented with pillars of
marble, the altar is richly gilt, and handsome frescoes deck the
ceiling. St. Domenigo, another fine church, possesses, my cicerone
assured me, the largest organ in the world. If he had said the
greatest _he had seen_, I could readily have believed him.
In St. Ignazio, or Olivazo, near a minor altar at one side, we find
a painting representing the Virgin and the infant Jesus. The
sacristan persisted that this was a work of Raphael's. The
colouring appeared to me not quite to resemble that of the great
master, but I understand too little of these things to be able to
judge on such a subject. At any rate it is a fine piece. A few
steps below the church lies the oratory, which nearly equals it in
size, and also contains a handsome painting over the altar. "St.
Augustine" also repays the trouble of a visit; it displays great
wealth in marble, sculptures, frescoes, and arabesques. "St.
Joseph" is also rich in various kinds of marble. Several of its
large columns have been made from a single block. A clear cold
stream issues from this church.
I have still to notice the lovely public gardens, which I visited
after dining with the consul-general, Herr Wallenburg. I cannot
omit this opportunity of gratefully mentioning the friendly sympathy
and kindness I experienced on the part of this gentleman and his
lady. To return to the gardens,--the most interesting to me was the
botanical, where a number of rare trees and plants flourish famously
in the open air.
The catacombs of the Augustine convent are most peculiar; they are
situate immediately outside the town. From the church, which offers
nothing of remarkable interest, a broad flight of stairs leads
downwards into long and lofty passages cut in the rock, and
receiving light from above. The skeletons of the dead line the
walls, in little niches close beside each other; they are clothed in
a kind of monkish robe, and each man's hands are crossed on his
chest, with a ticket bearing his name, age, and the date of his
death depending therefrom. A more horrible sight can scarcely be
imagined than these dressed-up skeletons and death's-heads. Many
have still hair on the scalp, and some even beard. The niches in
which they stand are surmounted by planks displaying skulls and
bones, and the corridors are crowded with whole rows of coffins,
their inmates waiting for a vacant place. If the relations of one
of the favoured skeletons neglect to supply a certain number of wax-
tapers on All-Saints' day, the poor man is banished from his
position, and one of the candidates steps in and occupies his niche.
The corpses of women and girls are deposited in another compartment,
and look as though they were lying in state in their glass coffins,
dressed in handsome silks, with ornamental coifs on their heads,
ruffs and lace collars round their necks, and silk shoes and
stockings, which however soon burst, on their feet. A wreath of
flowers decks the brow of each girl, and beneath all this ornament
the skull appears with its hollow eyes--a parody upon life and
death.
Whenever any one wishes to be immortalised in this way, his friends
and relations must pay a certain sum for a place on the day of his
burial, and afterwards bring wax-tapers every year. The body is
then laid in a chamber of lime, which remains for eight months
hermetically closed, until the flesh has been entirely eaten away;
then the bones are fastened together, dressed, and placed in a
niche.
On All-Saints' day these corridors of death are crowded with gazers;
friends and relations of the deceased resort thither to light
candles and perform their devotions. I was glad to have had an
opportunity of seeing these audience-halls of the dead, but still I
rejoiced when I hastened upwards to sojourn once more among the
living.
From here I drove to Olivuzza, to view the Moorish castle of Ziza,
celebrated for the beauty of its situation and of the region around.
Not far from the old castle stands a new one, with a garden of much
beauty, containing also a number of fantastic toys, such as little
grottoes and huts, hollow trees in which secret doors fly suddenly
open, disclosing to view a nun, a monk, or some figure of the kind,
etc. Here I still found a species of date-tree growing in the open
air; but the fruit it bears is very small, and never becomes
completely ripe: this was the last date-tree I saw.
The royal villa "Favourite," about a mile from the town, is situated
in a lovely spot. It is built in the Chinese style, with a quantity
of points, gables, and little bells; its interior is, however,
arranged according to European design, in a rich, tasteful, and
artistic manner. We linger with pleasure in the rooms, each of
which offers some attractive feature. Thus, for instance, one
apartment contains beautiful fresco paintings; another, life-size
portraits of the royal family in Chinese costume; in a third, the
effects of damp on walls and ceiling are so accurately portrayed
that at first I was deceived by the resemblance, and regretted to
find a room in such a condition among all the pomp and splendour
around. One small cabinet is entirely inlaid with little pieces of
all the various kinds of marble that are to be found in Sicily. The
large tables are made of petrified and polished woods, etc. Besides
these minor attractions, a much greater one exists in the splendid
view which we obtain from the terraces and from the summit of the
Chinese tower. I found it difficult to tear myself from
contemplating this charming prospect; a painter would become
embarrassed by the very richness of the materials around him. Every
thing I had seen from on board here appeared before my eyes with
increased loveliness, because I here saw it from a higher position,
and obtained a more extended view.
An ornamental garden lies close to the palace. It is flagged with
large blocks of stone, between which spaces are left for earth.
These beds are parcelled out according to plans, bordered with box a
foot in height, and arranged so as to form immense leaves, flowers,
and arabesques; while in the midst stand vases of natural flowers.
The park fills up the background; it consists merely of a few
avenues and meadows, extending to the foot of Mount Rosalia.
This mountain I also ascended. The finest paved street, which is
sufficiently broad for three carriages to pass each other, winds in
a serpentine manner round the rocky heights, so that we can mount
upwards without the slightest difficulty.
The convent is small and very simply constructed; the courtyard
behind it, on the contrary, is exceedingly imposing. It is shut in
on all sides by steep walls of rock, covered with clinging ivy in a
most picturesque manner. On the left we find a little grotto
containing an altar. In the foreground, on the right, a lofty gate,
formed by nature and beautified by art, leads into a chapel
wonderfully formed of pieces of rock and stalactites. A feeling of
astonishment and admiration almost amounting to awe came upon me as
I entered. The walls near the chief altar are overgrown with a kind
of delicate moss of an emerald-green colour, with the white rock
shining through here and there; and in the midst rises a natural
cupola, terminating in a point. The extreme summit of this dome
cannot be distinguished; it is lost in obscurity. Here and there
natural niches occur, in which statues of saints have been placed.
To the left of the high altar I saw the monument of St. Rosalia,
beautifully executed in white marble. She is represented in a
recumbent posture, the size of life; the statue rests on a pedestal
two feet in height. In the most highly-decorated or the most
gorgeous church I could not have felt myself more irresistibly
impelled to devotion than in this grand temple of nature.
From the 15th to the 18th of July in every year a great feast is
held in honour of St. Rosalia, the patron saint of the city, in the
town and on the mountain. On these days a number of people make a
pilgrimage to the grotto above described, where the bones of the
saint were found at a time when the plague was raging at Palermo.
They were carried with great pomp into the town, and from that
moment the plague ceased.
The road from the convent to the temple, built on the summit of a
rock, and visible to the sailors from a great distance, leads us for
about half a mile over loose stones. Its construction is extremely
simple, and not remarkable in any way. In former times its summit
was decked by a colossal statue of the saint. This fell down, and
the head alone remained unmutilated. Like the statue, the fane is
now in ruins, and its site is only visited for the sake of the
beautiful view.
On our way back to the convent, my guide drew my attention to a spot
where a large tree had stood. Some years before, a family was
sitting quietly beneath its shade, partaking of a frugal meal, when
the tree suddenly came crashing down, and caused the death of four
persons.
The excursion to St. Rosalia's Hill can easily be made in four or
five hours. It is usual to ride up the mountain on donkeys; these
animals are, however, so sluggish, compared with those of Egypt,
that I often preferred dismounting and proceeding on foot. The
Neapolitan donkeys are just as lazy.
I wished still to visit Bagaria, the summer residence of many of the
townspeople. One morning I drove to this lovely spot in the company
of an amiable Swiss family. The distance from Palermo is about two
miles and a half, and the road frequently winding close to the sea,
presents a rich variety of beautiful pictures.
We went to view the palace of Prince Fascello: the proprietor
appears, however, seldom to reside here, for every thing wears an
air of neglect. Two halls in this building are worthy of notice;
the walls of the smaller one are covered with figures and ornaments,
beautifully carved in wood, with pieces of mirror glass placed
between them. The vaulted ceiling is also decorated with mirrors,
some of which are unfortunately already broken.
The walls of the larger hall are completely lined with the finest
Sicilian marble. Above the cornices the marble has been covered
with thin glass, which gives it a peculiar appearance of polish.
The immense ceiling of the great hall is vaulted like that of the
smaller one, and completely covered with mirrors, all of them in
good preservation. Both apartments, but particularly the large one,
are said to have a magical effect when lighted up with tapers.
I spent a Sunday in Palermo, and was much pleased at seeing the
peasants in their festive garb, in which, however, I could discover
nothing handsome; nor, indeed, any thing peculiar, save the long
pendent nightcaps. The men wear jackets and breeches, and have the
before-mentioned caps on their heads; the dress of the women is a
spencer, a petticoat, and a kerchief of white or coloured linen
round the head and neck.
The common people appeared to be neither cleanly nor wealthy. The
rich are dressed according to the fashions of London, Paris, and
Vienna.
In all the Sicilian towns I found the mob more boisterous and
impudent than in the East, and frequently it was my lot to witness
most diabolical quarrels and fights. It is necessary to be much
more on one's guard against theft and roguery among these people
than among the Arabs and Bedouins. Now I acknowledge how falsely I
had judged the poor denizens of the East when I took them for the
most thievish of tribes. The people here and at Naples were far
worse than they. I was doubly pained on making this discovery, from
the fact that I saw more fasting and praying, and more clergymen in
these countries than any where else. To judge from appearances, I
should have taken the Sicilians and Neapolitans for the most pious
people in the world. But their behaviour towards strangers is rude
in the extreme. Never had I been so impudently stared out of
countenance as in these Sicilian towns: fingers were pointed at me
amidst roars of laughter; the boys even ran after me and jeered at
me--and all because I wore a round straw hat. In Messina I threw
this article away, and dressed according to the fashion which
prevails here and in my own country; but still the gaping did not
cease. In Palermo it was not only the street boys who stood still
to gaze at me, the grandees also did me the same honour, whether I
drove or walked. I once asked a lady the reason of this, and
requested to know if my appearance was calculated either to give
offence or to excite ridicule; she replied that neither was the
case, but that the only thing the citizens remarked in me was that I
went about alone with a servant. In Sicily this was quite an
uncommon circumstance, for there I always saw two ladies walking
together, or a lady and gentleman. Now the grand mystery was
solved; but notwithstanding this, I did not alter my mode of action,
but continued to walk quietly about the town with my servant, for I
preferred being laughed at a little to giving any one the trouble of
accompanying me about every where. At first this staring made me
very uncomfortable; but man can adapt himself to every thing, and I
am no exception to the rule.
The vegetation in Sicily is eminent for its luxuriant loveliness.
Flowers, plants, and shrubs attain a greater height and magnitude
than we find elsewhere. I saw here numerous species of aloes, which
we cultivate laboriously in hot-houses, growing wild, or planted as
hedges around gardens. The stems, from which blossoms burst forth,
often attain a height of from twenty to thirty feet. Their
flowering season was already past.
October 10th.
After a sojourn of five days I bade farewell to Palermo, and took my
departure in wet weather. This was the first rain I had seen fall
since the 20th of April. The temperature remained very warm; on
fine days the thermometer still stood at 20 or 22 degrees Reaumur in
the sun at noon.
The vessel on which I now embarked was a royal mail-steamer. We
left Palermo at noon; towards evening the sea became rather rough,
so that the spray dashed over me once or twice, although I
continually kept near the steersman.
At the commencement of our journey nothing was to be seen but sky
and water. But the next day, as we approached the Neapolitan coast,
island after island rose from the sea, and at length the mainland
itself could be discerned. Capri was the first island we approached
closely. Soon afterwards my attention was drawn to a great cloud
rising towards the sky; it was a smoky column from the glowing
hearth of Vesuvius. At length a white line glittered on the verge
of the horizon, like a band through the clear air. There was a
joyful cry of "Napoli! Napoli!" and Naples lay spread before me.
CHAPTER XIX.
Sojourn at Naples--Sickness--Laziness of the people--Royal palace--
Rotunda--Strada Chiaga and Toledo--St. Carlo Theatre--Largo del
Castello--Medina square--Marionettes--St. Jesu Nuovo--St. Jesu
Maggiore--St. Maria di Piedigrotta--Public gardens--Academy "degli
Studii"--Cathedral of St. Januarius--St. Jeronimo--St. Paula
Maggiore--St. Chiara--Baths of Nero--Solfatara--Grotto "del Cane"--
Resina--Ascent of Vesuvius--Caserta.
My imagination was so powerfully excited, I may say over-excited, by
the accounts I had heard and read concerning this fairy city, that
here once more my expectations were far from being realised. This
was, perhaps, partly owing to the circumstance that I had already
seen Constantinople and had just quitted Palermo, the situation of
which latter town had so enchanted me that my enthusiasm was here
confined within very narrow bounds, and I felt inclined to prefer
Palermo to Naples.
At two o'clock in the afternoon I landed, and the kind assistance of
Herr Brettschneider at once procured me an excellent room in Santa
Lucia, with a prospect of the harbour and the bay, besides a view of
Vesuvius and the region surrounding it. As usual, I wished to
commence my researches at once; but already in Palermo I had felt an
unceasing pain in my side, so that my last walks there had been
attended with considerable difficulty.
Here I became really ill, and was unable to quit my room. I had a
boil on my back, which required the care of the surgeon, and kept me
in my room for a fortnight, until the fever had abated.
If this misfortune had happened to me in the East, or even while I
was in quarantine at Malta, who knows whether I should not have been
looked upon as having a "plague-boil," and shut up for forty days?
During my imprisonment here, my only relaxation during the hours
when I was free from fever and it did not rain, was to sit on the
balcony, contemplating the beautiful prospect, and looking on the
bustling, lively populace. The Neapolitans appeared to me very ill-
behaved, boisterous, and quarrelsome, and seemed to entertain a
great horror of work. The latter circumstance seems natural enough,
for they require little for their daily support, and we hardly find
that the common people any where work more than is necessary to
shield them from immediate want; this is particularly the case in
Italy, where the heat is oppressive during the day, and the
temperature of the evening so agreeable, every one wishes to enjoy
himself rather than to work.
I sometimes saw men employ themselves for half a day together in
pushing bullets with a little stick through a ring fastened to the
ground: this is one of the most popular games. The women are
always sitting or standing in front of the houses, chattering or
quarrelling; and the children lie about in the streets all day long.
The veriest trifle suffices to breed a quarrel among old or young,
and then they kick one another with their feet--a very graceful
practice for women or girls! Even with their knives they are ready
on all occasions.
For making observations on the Neapolitans no better post can be
chosen than a lodging in the quarter St. Lucia. The fishermen,
lazzaroni, and sailors live in the little side lanes, and spend the
greater part of the day in the large street of St. Lucia, the chief
resort both for pedestrians and people on horse-back and in
carriages. In and about the harbour we find numerous vendors of
oysters and crabs, which they bring fresh from the sea. The
lazzaroni no longer go about half naked, and the common people are
dressed in a decent though not in a picturesque manner.
Here a number of handsome equipages rolled by; their lady occupants
were very fashionably attired.
Even among the better classes it is usual for the men to purchase
all the household necessaries, such as fish, bread, poultry, etc.
Poultry is very much eaten in Italy, particularly turkeys, which are
sometimes sold ready cut up, according to weight. On Sundays and
holydays the shops containing wares and provisions, and the meat and
poultry stalls, are opened in the same way as on a week-day.
Throughout all Italy we do not see them closed for the observance of
a Sunday or holyday.
On the fifteenth day I had so far recovered that I could begin my
tour of observation, using, however, certain precautions.
At first I confined my researches to churches, palaces, and the
museum, particularly as the weather was unprecedentedly bad. It
rained, or rather poured, almost every day, and in these cases the
water rushes in streams out of the by-lanes towards the sea. The
greater part of Naples is built on an acclivity, and there are no
gutters, so that the water must force its way along the streets:
this has its peculiar advantages; for the side-lanes, which are
filthy beyond description, thus get a partial cleansing by the
stream.
As I am not a connoisseur, it would be foolish in me to attempt a
criticism upon the splendid productions of art which I beheld here,
in Rome, and at Florence and other places. I can only recount what
I saw.
During my excursions I generally regulated my movements according to
the divisions and instructions contained in August Lewald's hand-
book, a work which every traveller will find very serviceable and
correct.
I began with the royal palace, which was situate near my lodging at
St. Lucia, with one front facing the sea, and the other turned
towards the fine large square. This building contains forty-two
windows in a row. I could see nothing of its interior excepting the
richly decorated chapel, as the royal family resided there during
the whole time of my stay, and thus the apartments were not
accessible to strangers.
Opposite the castle stands the magnificent Rotunda, called also the
church of San Francesco de Paula. Adjoining this church on either
side were arcades in the form of a half circle, supported by
handsome pillars, beneath which several shops are established. The
roof of the Rotunda is formed by a splendid cupola resting on
thirty-four marble pillars. The altars, with the niches between,
occupied by colossal statues, are ranged round the walls, and in
some instances decorated by splendid modern paintings. A great
quantity of lapis lazuli has been used in the construction of the
grand altar. In the higher regions of the cupola two galleries,
with tasteful iron railings, are to be seen. The entire church, and
even the confessionals, are covered with a species of grey marble.
The peculiar appearance of this place of worship is exceedingly
calculated to excite the visitor's wonder, for to judge from its
exterior he would scarcely take the splendid building before him for
a church. It was built on the model of the famous rotunda at Rome;
but the idea of the porticoes is taken from St. Peter's.
Two large equestrian statues of bronze form the ornaments of the
square before this church. Quitting this square, we emerge into the
two finest and most frequented streets in the town, namely, the
Chiaga and Toledo. Not far off is the imposing theatre of St.
Carlo, said to be not only the largest in Italy, but in all Europe.
Its exterior aspect is very splendid. A large and broad entrance
extends in front, with pillars, beneath the shelter of which the
carriages drive up, so that the spectators can arrive and depart
without the chance of getting wet. This evening there was to be a
"particularly grand performance." I entered the theatre, and was
much struck with its appearance. It contains six tiers, all
parcelled off into boxes, of which I counted four-and-twenty on the
grand circle. Each box is almost the size of a small room, and can
easily accommodate from twelve to fifteen people. A fairy-like
spectacle is said to be produced when, on occasions of peculiar
festivity, the whole exterior is lighted up. Here, as in nearly all
the Italian theatres, a clock, shewing not only the hours but the
minutes, is fixed over the front of the stage. A "particular
performance" commences at six o'clock, and usually terminates an
hour or two before midnight. This evening I saw a little ballet,
then two acts of an opera, and afterwards a comedy, the whole
concluding with a grand ballet. It is usual on benefit-nights to
give a great variety of entertainments in order to attract the
public; on these occasions the prices are also reduced one-fifth.
The greatest square, Largo del Castello, almost adjoins the theatre;
it is of an oblong form, and contains many palace-like buildings,
including the finance and police offices. A pretty spring, the
water of which falls down some rocks and forms a cascade, is also
worthy of mention.
A little to the left we come upon the Medina-square, boasting the
finest fountain in Naples. Between these two squares, beside the
sea-shore, lies Castel Nuovo, said to be built quite in the form of
the Bastille. It is strongly fortified, and serves as a defence for
the harbour. This is a very lively neighbourhood. Many an hour's
amusement have I had, watching the motley crowd, particularly on
Sundays and holydays, when it is frequented by improvisators,
singers, musicians, and mountebanks of every description.
Not far from the harbour is a long street in which numerous kitchens
and many provision-stalls are established. Here I walked in the
evenings to see the people assembled round the macaroni-pots: it is
advisable, however, to leave watch and purse at home, and even one's
pocket-handkerchief is not safe.
Of the shouting and crowding here no conception can be formed.
Large kettles are placed in front of the shops, and the proprietors
sit beside them, plunging a great wooden fork and spoon into the
cauldron to fill the plates of expectant customers. Some eat their
favourite dish with fat and cheese, others without, according to the
state of their exchequer for the time being; but one and all eat
with their fingers. The army of hungry mortals seems innumerable;
and during feeding-time the stranger finds no little difficulty in
forcing a passage, notwithstanding the breadth of the street. Not
far from this thoroughfare of the people two "Punchinellos" are
erected. In one of these the Marionettes are a foot and a half, and
in the other no less than three feet high.
There is, besides, a theatre for the people, where pieces of tragic
and comic character are performed, in all of which the clown plays a
prominent part. The remaining theatres, the Nuovo, the Carlini, and
others, are about the size of those in the Leopold- and Josephstadt
at Vienna, and can accommodate about 800 spectators. Their
exteriors and interiors are alike undistinguished; but in some of
them the singing and playing are very creditable. In one of these
theatres we are obliged to descend instead of to ascend to reach the
pit and the first tier of boxes.
Naples contains more than three hundred churches and chapels. I
visited a number of them, for I entered every church that came in my
way. St. Fernando, a church of no great size, but of very pleasing
appearance, struck me particularly. The ceiling of this edifice is
covered with frescoes, and the walls enriched with marble. At the
two side altars we find a pair of very fine half-length pictures of
saints.
St. Jesu Nuovo, another exceedingly handsome church, stands on the
borders of the Lago Maggiore, and is full of magnificent frescoes,
surrounded by arabesque borders. The latter appear as though they
were gilded, and the effect thus produced is remarkably fine. This
spacious building contains a number of small chapels, partitioned
off by massive gratings. The great cupola is exceedingly handsome,
and every chapel boasts a separate one.
St. Jesu Maggiore does not carry out its appellation, for it is a
small unpretending church, though some splendid gothic ornaments
beautify the exterior.
St. Maria di Piedigrotta, another little church, is much frequented,
from the fact that the common people place great confidence in the
picture of the Virgin there displayed. The church contains nothing
worthy of notice.
The grotto of Pausilipp, a cavern of immense length, now called
Puzzoli, is not far distant. This grotto, hewn out of a rock, is
about 1200 paces long, between 50 and 60 feet in height, and of such
breadth that two carriages can easily pass each other. A little
chapel cut out of the rock occupies the middle of the cavern, and
both grotto and chapel are illuminated night and day. As in the
whole of Naples, the pavement here is formed of lava from Mount
Vesuvius.
Immediately above the grotto, in the direction of the town, we come
upon a simple gravestone of white marble--the monument of the poet
Virgil. A long flight of steps leads to the garden containing this
monument: the poet's ashes do not, however, rest here; the spot
where he sleeps cannot be accurately determined, and this monument
is only raised to his memory. The prospect from these heights as
well repays a visit as the grotto of Pausilipp, where we wander for
a long time in deep darkness, until we suddenly emerge into the
broad light of day, to find ourselves surrounded by a most lovely
landscape.
The public garden of Naples is also situate in this quarter of the
town. It extends to the lower portion of the Strada Chiaga, is of
great length without being broad, and displays a vast number of
beautiful statues, prospects, and rare plants; a large and handsome
street, containing many fine houses, adjoins it on one side. I also
rode to the Vomero, on which are erected the king's pleasure-palace
and a small convent. A glorious prospect here unfolds itself:
Naples with its bay, Puzzoli, and a number of beautiful islands, the
lake Agnaro, the extinct craters of Solfatara, Baiae, Vesuvius with
its chain of mountains, and the stupendous ocean, lie grouped, in
varied forms and gorgeously blending colours, before the gaze of the
astonished spectator. This is the place of which the Neapolitans
say, with some justice, "Hither should men come, and gaze, and die!"
Still the prospects from St. Rosalia's Mount, and from the royal
palace Favorita at Palermo, had pleased me better; for there the
beauties of nature are more crowded together, are nearer to the
spectator: he can obtain a more complete view of them, while in
varied gorgeousness they do not yield the palm even to the fairy
pictures of Naples.
I more than once spent half a day in the Academy "degli Studii," for
in this place much was to be seen. The entrance to the building is
indescribably beautiful; both the portico and the handsome
staircases are ornamented with statues and busts executed in most
artistic style. A door on the right leads us to a hall in which the
paintings from Pompeii and Herculaneum are displayed; several of
these relics have no small pretensions to beauty, and the colours of
almost all are still wonderfully bright and fresh. In the great
hall at the end of the courtyard we find on one side the Farnese
Hercules, and on the other the Bull, both works of the Athenian
Glycon. These two antiques, particularly the latter, have been in a
great measure restored.
The gallery of great bronzes is considered the first in the world,
for here we find united the finest works of ancient times. So many
beautiful creations of art were here brought together, that if I
attempted a description of them I should not know where to begin.
Opposite the gallery of bronzes is that allotted to the marbles,
among which a beautiful Venus stands prominently forth.
In the gallery of Flora, a statue of the same goddess, called the
Farnese, is also the principal attraction.
A statue of Apollo playing on the lyre, of porphyry, is the greatest
masterpiece in the hall of coloured marbles; while in the gallery of
the Muses a basin of Athenian porphyry occupies the first place.
In the Adonis room the beautiful Venus Anadyomene engrossed my chief
attention; and in the cabinet of Venus the Venus Callipygos forms an
exquisite sidepiece to the Venus de Medicis.
The upper regions of this splendid building contain an extensive
library and a picture-gallery.
I also paid a visit to the catacombs of St. Januarius, which extend
three stories high on a mountain, and are full of little niches,
five or six of which are often found one above the other.
In the chapel Santa Maria della Pieta, in the palace St. Severino, I
admired three of the finest and most valuable marble statues that
can be found any where; I mean, "Veiled Innocence," "Malice in a
Net," and a veiled recumbent figure of Christ. All three are by the
sculptor Bernini.
The largest church in the town is the cathedral dedicated to St.
Januarius. This structure rests on a hundred and ten columns of
Egyptian and African granite, standing three by three, embedded in
the walls. The church has not a very imposing appearance. The
chief altar, beneath which the body of St. Januarius is deposited,
is ornamented with many kinds of valuable marble. Here I saw a
great number of pictures, most of them of considerable merit. The
chapel of St. Januarius, also called the "chapel of the treasure,"
is one of the most gorgeous shrines that can be conceived. The
Neapolitans built it as a thank-offering at the cessation of a
plague. The cost was above a million of ducats, and the wealth of
this chapel is greater than that of any church in Christendom. It
is built in a circular form, and all the resources of art have been
lavished on the decoration of the chief altar. Every spot is
covered with treasures and works of art, and the roof is supported
by forty-two Corinthian pillars of dark-red stone. All the
decorations of the high altar, the immense candelabra and massive
flower-vases, are of silver. At a grand festival, when every thing
is richly illuminated, the appearance of this chapel must be
gorgeous in the extreme. The head and two bottles of the blood of
St. Januarius are preserved here; the people assert that this blood
liquefies every year. The frescoes on the ceiling are splendidly
painted; and on the square before the church is to be seen an
obelisk surmounted by a statue of St. Januarius.
St. Jeronimo has an imposing appearance when one first enters. The
whole roof of this church as far downwards as the pillars is covered
with beautiful arabesques and figures. It also contains some fine
paintings, and is, besides, renowned for its architecture.
St. Paula Maggiore, another spacious church, is well worth seeing on
account of its magnificent arabesques and fresco-paintings; besides
these it also contains some handsome monuments and statues of
marble. Two very ancient pillars stand in front of this church.
St. Chiara, a fine large church, offers some fine monuments and oil-
paintings.
Among the excursions in the neighbourhood of Naples, that to Puzzoli
is certainly the most interesting. After passing through the great
grotto, we reach the ancient and rather important town of Puzzoli,
with 8000 inhabitants. Cicero called this place a little Rome. In
the centre of the town stands the church of St. Proculus, which was
converted from a heathen into a Christian temple, and is surrounded
by fine-looking Corinthian pillars.
Remarkable beyond all else is the ruined temple of Seropis. Almost
the entire magnitude and arrangement of this magnificent building
can yet be discerned. A few of the pillars that once supported the
cupola are still erect, and several of the cells, which surrounded
the temple and were once used as baths, can still be seen. Every
thing here is of fine white marble. The greater portion of the ruin
was dismantled, to be used in the construction of the royal villa of
Caserta.
The harbour of Puzzoli is related to have been the finest in Italy.
From this place Caligula had a bridge erected to Baiae, about 4000
paces in length. He undertook this gigantic work in consequence of
a prophecy that was made to him, that he would no more become
emperor than he could ride to Baiae on horseback. This prophecy he
confuted, and became emperor. Of the amphitheatre and the colosseum
not a trace remains. A little chapel now occupies the site on which
they stood; tradition asserts that it is built on the very spot
where St. Januarius was thrown to the bears.
Not far from this chapel we are shewn the labyrinth of Daedalus;
several of its winding walks still exist, through which it would be
difficult to find the way without a cicerone.
We ascended the hill immediately beyond the city, on which some
remains of Cicero's villa are yet to be seen: here we enjoyed a
splendid prospect.
In this region we continually wander among ruins, and see every
where around us the relics of the past. Thus a short walk brought
us from Cicero's villa to the ruins of three temples--those of
Diana, Venus, and Mercury. Of the first, one side and a few little
cells, called the "baths of Venus," alone remain. Part of Venus's
temple stands in the rotunda. It was built on acoustic principles,
so that any one who puts his ear to a certain part of the wall can
hear what is whispered at the opposite extremity. A few fragments
of the rotunda were the only trace left of the temple of Diana.
The vapour baths of Nero, hewn out of the rock, consist of several
passages, into which it is impossible to penetrate far on account of
the heat. A boy ran to the spring and brought us some boiling
water; he returned from his expedition fiery red in the face, and
covered with perspiration. These poor lads are accustomed to remain
at the spring until they have succeeded in boiling some eggs; but I
would not allow any such cruelty, and did not even wish them to
fetch me the water, but Herr Brettschneider would have it so in
spite of me.
From this place we crossed by sea to Baiae, where at one time many
of the rich people had their villas. Their proceedings here are
said, however, to have been of so immoral a character, that at
length it was considered wrong to have resided here any time. Every
visitor must be enchanted with the fertility of this region, and
with its lovely aspect. A castle, now used as a barrack for
veterans, crowns the summit of a rock which stands prominently
forth. A few unimportant traces can still be here discovered of an
ancient temple of Hercules. Some masonry, in the form of a
monument, marks the alleged spot where Agrippina was murdered and
buried by order of her son.
The immense reservoir built by order of the emperor Augustus for the
purpose of supplying the fleet with fresh water, is situate in the
neighbourhood of Baiae; it is called Piscina. This giant structure
contains several large chambers, their roofs supported by numerous
columns. To view this reservoir we are compelled to descend a
flight of steps.
Not far from the before-mentioned building we come upon the "Cento
Camarelle," a prison consisting of a multitude of small cells.
On our way back we visited Solfatara, the celebrated crater plain,
about 1000 feet in length by 800 in breadth, skirted by hills. Its
volcanic power is not yet wholly extinct; in several places
brimstone-fumes (whence the plain derives its name,) are still seen
rising into the air, which they impregnate with a most noxious
odour. On striking the ground with a stick a sound is produced,
from which we can judge that the whole space beneath us is hollow.
This excursion is a very disagreeable one; we are continually
marching across a mere crust of earth, which may give way any
moment. I found here a manufactory of brimstone and alum. A little
church belonging to the Capuchins, where we are shewn a stone on
which St. Januarius was decapitated after the bears had refused to
tear him to pieces, stands on a hill near the Solfatara.
Towards evening we reached the "Dog's Grotto." A huntsman from the
royal preserve Astroni accompanied us, and fetched the man who keeps
the keys of the grotto. This functionary soon appeared with a
couple of dogs, to furnish us with a practical illustration of the
convulsions caused by the foul air of the cavern. But I declined
the experiment, and contented myself with viewing the grotto. It is
of small extent, about eight or ten feet long, not more than five in
breadth, and six or eight high. I entered the cave, and so long as
I remained erect felt no inconvenience. So soon as I bent towards
the ground, however, and the lower stratum of air blew upon my face,
I experienced a most horrible choking sensation.
After we had satisfied our curiosity the huntsman led us to the
neighbouring hunting-lodge, and to a little lake where a number of
ducks are fattened. This man spoke of another and a much more
remarkable grotto, of which he possessed the keys, and which he
should have great pleasure in shewing us. Though twilight was
rapidly approaching we determined to go, as the place was not far
off. The man opened the door, and invited us to enter the cavern,
advising us at the same time to bend down open-mouthed, as we had
done in the Dog's Grotto, and at the same time to fan the air
upwards with our hands, that we might the better inhale it,--a
proceeding which he asserted to be peculiarly good for the digestive
organs. His eloquence was so powerful, that we could not help
suspecting the man; and it struck us as very strange that he was so
particularly anxious we should enter the cavern together. This,
therefore, we refused to do; and Herr Brettschneider remained
outside with our guide, while I entered alone and did as he had
directed. Though the lower stratum of air in the Dog's Grotto had
been highly mephitic, the atmosphere here was more stifling still.
I rushed forth with the speed of lightning; and now we clearly saw
through the fellow's intention. If Herr Brettschneider and myself
had entered together, he would undoubtedly have shut the door, and
we should have been stifled in a few moments. We did not allow him
to notice our suspicions, but merely said that we could not spend
any more time here to-day on account of the lateness of the hour.
Our worthy friend accompanied us through a wild and gloomy region,
with his gun on his shoulder; and I was not a little afraid of him,
for he kept talking about his honesty and the good intentions he had
towards us. We kept, however, close beside him, and watched him
narrowly, without betraying any symptom of apprehension; and at
length, to our great relief, we gained the open road.
The royal villa of Portici lies about four "miglia" from Naples, and
we made an excursion thither by railway. Both the palace and the
gardens are handsome, and of considerable size. Thence we proceeded
to Resina. Portici and Resina are so closely connected together by
villas and houses, that a stranger would take them for one place.
Beneath Resina lies Herculaneum, a city destroyed seventy-nine years
after the birth of our Saviour. In the year 1689 a marquis caused a
well to be dug in his garden, when, at a depth of sixty-five feet,
the labourers came upon fragments of marble with divers
inscriptions. It was not until 1720 that systematic excavations
were made. Even then great caution was necessary, as Resina is
unfortunately built upon Herculaneum, and the safety of the houses
became endangered.
At Resina we procured torches and a guide, and descended to view the
subterranean city. We saw the theatre, a number of houses, several
temples, and the forum. Some fine frescoes are still to be
distinguished on the walls of the apartments. The floors are
covered with mosaic; but still this place does not offer nearly so
many objects of interest as another which was overwhelmed at the
same time--Pompeii.
Pompeii is without doubt the most remarkable city of its kind that
exists. A great portion of the town is surrounded by walls, and
entire rows of houses, several temples, the theatre, the forum, in
short a vast number of buildings, streets, and squares lay open
before us. The more I wandered through the streets and open places,
the more I involuntarily wondered not to find the inhabitants and
labourers employed in repairing the houses; I could hardly realise
the idea that so many beautiful houses and well preserved apartments
should be untenanted. The deserted aspect of this town had a very
melancholy effect in my eyes.
Though a great portion of the town has already been dug out, only
three hundred skeletons have been found,--a proof that the greater
portion of the inhabitants effected their escape.
In many houses I found splendid tesselated pavements, representing
flowers, wreaths, animals, and arabesques; even the halls and
courtyards were decorated with a larger kind of mosaic work. The
walls of the rooms are plastered over with a description of firm
polished enamel, frequently looking like marble, and covered with
beautiful frescoes. In Sallust's house a whole row of wine jugs
still stands in the cellar. In the houses the division of the
rooms, and the purposes to which the different apartments were
devoted, can still be distinctly traced. In general they are very
small, and the windows seldom look out upon the street. Deep ruts
of carriages can be seen in the streets. All the treasures of art
which could be removed, such as statues, pictures, etc., were
carried off to Naples, and placed in the museum there.
VESUVIUS.
In the agreeable society of Herr M. and Madame Brettschneider, I
rode away from Resina at eleven in the forenoon. A pleasant road,
winding among vineyards, brought us in an hour's time to the
neighbourhood of the great lava-field, Torre del Greco. It is a
fearful sight to behold these grand mounds of lava towering in the
most various forms around us. All traces of vegetation have
vanished; far and wide we can descry nothing but hardened masses,
which once rushed in molten streams down the mountain. A capitally-
constructed road leads us, without the slightest fatigue, through
the midst of this scene of devastation to the usual resting-place of
travellers, the "Hermitage."
At this dwelling we made halt, ascended to the upper story, and
called for a bottle of Lacrimae Christi. The view here, and at
several other points of our ascent, is most charming.
The hermit seems, however, to lead any thing but a solitary life,
for a day seldom passes on which strangers do not call in to claim
his attention in proportion as they run up a score. The clerical
gentleman is, in fact, no more and no less than a very common
innkeeper, and partakes of the goodly obesity frequently noticed
among persons of his class. We stayed three quarters of an hour in
the domicile of this hermit-host, and afterwards rode on towards the
heights, along a beautiful road among fields of lava. In half an
hour's time, however, we were completely shut in by lava-fields, and
here the beaten track ended. We now dismounted, and continued our
ascent on foot. It is difficult for one who has not seen it to
picture to himself the scene that lay around us. Devastation every
where; lava covering the whole region in heaps upon heaps,
fantastically piled one on the other. Here a huge isolated mound
rises, seemingly cut off on all sides from the lava around; there we
see how a mighty stream once rushed down the mountain-side, and
cooled gradually into stone. Immense chasms are filled with lava
masses, which have lain here for many years cold and motionless, and
will probably remain for as many more, for their fury has spent
itself.
The lava is of different colours, according as it has been exposed
to the atmosphere for a longer or a shorter period. The oldest lava
has the hue of granite, and almost its hardness, for which reasons
it is largely used for building houses and paving streets.
From the place where we left our donkeys we had to climb upwards for
nearly an hour over the lava before reaching the crater. The ascent
is somewhat fatiguing, as we are obliged to be very careful at every
step to avoid entangling our feet among the blocks of lava; still
the difficulty is not nearly so great as people make out. It is
merely necessary to wear good thick boots, and then all goes
extremely well. The higher we mount, the more numerous do the
fissures become from which smoke bursts forth. In one of these
clefts we placed some eggs, which were completely boiled in four
minutes' time. Near these places the ground is so hot that we could
not have stood still for many minutes; still we did not get burnt
feet or any thing of the kind.
On reaching the crater we found ourselves enveloped in so thick a
fog that we could not see ten paces in advance. There was nothing
for it but to sit down and wait patiently until the sun could
penetrate the mist and spread light and cheerfulness among us. Then
we descended into the crater, and approached as closely as possible
to the place from which the smoky column whirls into the air. The
road was a gloomy one, for we were shut in as in a bowl, and could
discern around us nothing but mountains of lava, while before us
rose the huge smoky column, threatening each moment to shroud us in
darkness as the wind blew it in clouds in our direction. When the
ground was struck with a stick, it gave forth a hollow rumbling
sound like at Solfatara. In the neighbourhood of the column of
smoke we could see nothing more than at the edge from which we had
climbed downwards--a peculiar picture of unparalleled devastation.
The circumference of the crater seems not to have changed since the
visit of Herr Lewald, who a few years ago estimated its dimensions
at 5000 feet. After once more mounting to the brim, we walked round
a great part of the edge of the basin.
At the particular desire of Herr M., who was well acquainted with
all the remarkable points about the volcano, our guide now led the
way to the so-called "hell," a little crater which formed itself it
in the year 1834. To reach it we had to climb about over fields of
lava for half an hour. The aspect of this hell did not strike me as
particularly grand. An uneven wall of lava suddenly rose fifteen
paces in advance of us, with whole strata of pure sulphur and other
beautifully-coloured substances depending from its projecting
angles. One of these substances was of a snowy-white colour, light,
and very porous. I took a piece with me, but the next day on
proceeding to pack it carefully, I found that above half had melted
and become quite soft and damp, so that I was compelled to throw the
whole away. The same thing happened to a mass of a red colour that
I had brought away with me, and which had a beautiful effect, like
glowing lava, clinging to the fissures and sides of the rocks. We
held pieces of paper to the fissures in this wall, and they
immediately became ignited. Herr M. then threw in a cigar, which
also burst into a flame. The heat proceeding from these clefts was
so great, that we could not bear to hold our hands there for an
instant. At one place, near a fissure, we laid our ears to the
ground, and could hear a rushing bubbling sound as though water was
boiling beneath us. There was really much to see in this hell,
without the discomfort of being enveloped in the offensive
sulphurous smoke of the chief crater.
After staying for several hours in and about the crater we left it,
and returned by the steep way over the cone of cinders. The descent
here is almost perpendicular, and we could hardly escape with whole
skins if it were not for the fact that we sink ankle-deep into sand
and cinders at every step.
To avoid falling, it is requisite to bend the body backwards and
step upon the heel. By observing this precaution, the worst that
can happen to one is to sit down involuntarily once or twice,
without danger to life or limb. In twelve minutes we had reached
the spot where our donkeys stood. We reached Resina during the
darkness of night, having spent eight hours in our excursion.
My last trip was to the Castle of Caserta, distant sixteen miglia
from Naples, in the direction of Capua. It is considered one of the
finest pleasure-palaces in Europe, and I was exceedingly pleased
with its appearance. The building is of a square form, with a
portico 507 feet long, supported by ninety-eight columns of the
finest marble. The staircase and halls in the upper story alone
must have cost enormous sums, as well as the chapel on the first
floor, which is very rich and gorgeous. The saloons and apartments
are decorated in a peculiarly splendid manner with a multiplicity of
frescoes, oil-paintings, sculptures, gildings, costly silk-hangings,
marbles, etc. A pretty little theatre, with well-painted scenery,
is to be found in the palace. The garden is extensive, particularly
as regards length. A hill, from which a considerable stream rushes
foaming over artificial rockwork into the deeper recesses of the
garden, rises at its extremity. Scarcely has this river sunk to
rest, flowing slowly and majestically through a bed formed of large
square stones, before it is compelled to form another cascade, and
another, and one more, until it almost reaches the castle, near
which a large basin has been constructed, from whence the water is
led into the town. Seen from the portico, these waterfalls have a
lovely appearance. From Caserta we drove ten miles farther on to
the celebrated aqueduct which supplies the whole of Naples with
water. It is truly a marvellous work. Over three stupendous arched
ways, one above the other, the necessary quantity of water flows
into the city.
This was my last excursion; on the following day, the 7th of
November, at three in the morning, I left Naples. Apart from the
delightful reminiscences of lovely natural scenes, I shall always
think with pleasure on my sojourn in Naples in connexion with Herr
Brettschneider and his lady. I was a complete stranger to them when
I delivered my note of introduction, and yet they at once welcomed
me as kindly and heartily as though I had belonged to their family.
How many hours, and even days, did they not devote to me, to
accompany me sometimes to one place, sometimes to another; how
eagerly did they seek to shew me all the riches of nature and art
displayed in this favoured city! I was truly proud and delighted at
having found such friends; and once more do I offer them my sincere
thanks.
CHAPTER XX.
Caserta--Costume of the peasants--Rome--Piazza del Popolo--Dogana--
St. Peter's--Palaces--Borghese, Barberini, Colonna, etc.--Churches--
Ancient Rome--The Colliseum--Departure for Florence--Bad weather--
Picturesque scenery--Siena--Florence--Cathedral and palaces--
Departure from Florence--Bologna--Ferrara--Conclusion.
November 7th.
I travelled by the mail-carriage. By seven in the morning we were
at Caserta, and an hour later at Capua, a pretty bustling town on
the banks of a river. Our road was most picturesque; we drove among
vineyards and gardens through the midst of a lovely plain. On the
right were mountains, increasing in number as we proceeded, and
imparting a rich variety to the landscape. At noon we halted before
a lovely inn. From this point the country increases in beauty at
every step. The heights are strikingly fertile, and in the valley
an excellent road winds amid pleasant gardens. The mountains
frequently seem to approach as though about to form an impenetrable
pass; while ruins crown the summits of the rocks, and give a
romantic appearance to the whole. At about three o'clock we reached
the little town of Jeromania, lying in the midst of vegetable-
gardens. Above this town the handsome convent of Monte Cassino
stands on a rock, and in its neighbourhood we notice the ruins of an
amphitheatre.
To-day the weather was not in the least Italian, being, on the
contrary, gloomy and rough, as we generally find it in Austria at
the same season of the year. Yesterday it was so cold at Naples
that Mount Vesuvius was covered with snow during several hours.
The dress of the peasants in these regions is of a more national
character than I had yet found it. The women wear short and scanty
petticoats of blue or red cloth, tight-fitting bodices, and gaily-
striped aprons. Their head-dress consists of a white handkerchief,
with a second above it folded in a square form. The men look like
robbers; with their long dark-blue or brown cloaks, in which they
wrap themselves so closely that it is difficult to get a glimpse of
their faces, and their steeple-crowned black hats, they quite
resemble the pictures of the bandits in the Abruzzi. They glide
about in so spectral a manner, and eye travellers with such a
sinister look, that I almost became uncomfortable.
From Jeromania we had still a few miles to travel until we entered
the Roman territory near Ceprano.
In Naples, and in fact throughout the whole of Italy, the passports
are continually called for,--a great annoyance to the traveller. In
the course of to-day my passport was "vise" five times, making once
in every little town through which we had passed.
It was our fortune at Ceprano to lodge with a very cheating host.
In the evening, when I inquired the price of a bedroom and
breakfast, they told me a bed would cost two pauls, and breakfast
half a paul; but when I came to pay, the host asked three pauls for
my bed-room, and another for a cup of the worst coffee I have ever
drunk; and the whole company was subjected to the same extortion.
We expostulated and complained, but were at length compelled to
comply with the demand.
November 8th.
The landscape remains the same, but the appearance of the towns and
villages is not nearly so neat and pretty as in the Neapolitan
domain. The costume of the peasants is like that worn by the people
whom we met yesterday, excepting that the women have a stiff
stomacher, fastened with a red lace, instead of the spencer. The
dress of the men consists of short knee-breeches, brown stockings,
heavy shoes, and a jacket of some dark colour. Some wear, in
addition to this, a red waistcoat, and a green sash round the waist.
All wear the conical hat. In cold weather the dark bandit's cloak
is also seen.
ROME.
As we approach Rome the country becomes more and more barren; the
mountains recede, and the extended plains have a desert,
uncultivated look. Towns and villages become so thinly scattered,
that it seems as though the whole region were depopulated. The road
is rather narrow, and as the country is in many places exceedingly
marshy, a great portion of it has been paved. For many miles before
we enter Rome we do not pass a single town or village. At length,
some three hours before we reach the city, the dome of St. Peter's
is seen looming in the distance; one church after another appears,
and at length the whole city lies spread before us.
Many ruins of aqueducts and buildings of every kind shewed at every
step what treasures of the past here awaited us. I was particularly
pleased with the old town-gate Lateran, by which we entered.
It was already quite dark when we reached the Dogana. I at once
betook myself to my room and retired to rest.
I remained a fortnight at Rome, and walked about the streets from
morning till night. I visited St. Peter's almost every day, and
went to the Vatican several times.
All the squares in Rome (and there are a great many) are decorated
with fountains, and still more frequently with obelisks. The finest
is the Piazza del Popolo. To the right rises the terrace-hill
Picino, rich in pillars, statues, fountains, and other ornaments,--a
favourite walk of the citizens. On this hill, which is arranged
after the manner of a beautiful garden, we have a splendid view.
The city of Rome here appears to much greater advantage than when we
approach it from the direction of Naples. We can see the whole town
at one glance, with the yellow Tiber flowing through the midst, and
a vast plain all around. The background is closed by beautiful
mountain-ranges, with villas, little towns, and cottages on the
declivities. But I missed one feature, to which I had become so
accustomed that the most beautiful view appeared incomplete without
it--the sea. To make up for this drawback, we here encounter
wherever we walk such a number of ruins, that we soon become
forgetful of all around us, and live only in the past.
The Piazza del Popolo forms the termination of the three principal
streets in Rome; on the largest and finest of these, the Corso, many
palaces are to be seen.
The splendid post-office, of white marble, rises on the Colonna
square. Two clocks are erected on this building; one with our dial,
one with the Italian. At night both are illuminated,--a very useful
as well as an ornamental arrangement. The ancient column of
Antoninus also stands in this square.
The facade of the Dogana boasts some pillars from the temple of
Antonius Pius.
The objects I have just enumerated struck me particularly as I
wended my way to St. Peter's. I cannot describe how deeply I was
impressed by the sight of this colossal structure. I need only
state the fact, that on the first day I entered the cathedral at
nine in the morning, and did not emerge from its gates until three
in the afternoon.
I sat down before the pictures in mosaic, underneath the huge dome
and the canopy; then I stood before the statues and monuments, and
could only gaze in wonder at every thing.
The expense of building and decorating this church is said to have
amounted to 45,852,000 dollars. It occupies the site of Nero's
circus. Two arcades, with four rows of pillars and ninety-six
statues, surround the square leading to the church.
The facade of St. Peter's is decorated with Corinthian pillars, and
on its parapet stand statues fifty-two feet in height.
The entrance is so crowded with statues, carved work, and gilding,
that several hours may be spent in examining its wonders. The
traveller's attention is particularly attracted by the gigantic
gates of bronze.
I cannot adequately describe the splendour of the interior, nor have
I seen any thing with which I could compare it.
The most beautiful mosaics, monuments, statues, carvings in bronze,
gilded ornaments, in short every thing that art can produce, are
here to be found in the highest perfection. Oil-paintings alone are
excluded. Every thing here is in mosaic; even the cupola displays
mosaic work instead of the usual fresco-paintings. Immense statues
of white marble occupy the niches.
Beneath the cupola, the finest portion of the building, stands the
great altar, at which none but the Pope may read mass. Over this
altar extends a giant canopy of bronze, with spiral pillars richly
decorated with arabesques. The weight of metal used in its
construction was 186,392 pounds, and the cost of the gold for
gilding was 40,000 dollars; the entire canopy is worth above 150,000
dollars. The cupola was executed by Michael Angelo; it rests on
four massive pillars, each of them furnished with a balcony. In the
interior of these pillars chapels are constructed, where the chief
relics are kept, and only displayed to the people from the balcony
at particular times. I was in the church at the time when the
handkerchief which wiped the drops of agony from our Lord's brow,
and a piece of the true cross, were shewn.
The pulpit stands in a very elevated position, and was executed in
bronze by Bernini; 219,161 pounds of metal, and 172,000 dollars,
were spent upon its construction. In the interior is concealed the
wooden pulpit from which St. Peter preached; and immediately beside
this we find a pillar of white marble, said to have belonged to
Solomon's temple at Jerusalem.
The lions on the monument of Clement XIII., by Canova, are
considered the finest that were ever sculptured.
I was fortunate enough to penetrate into the catacombs of St.
Peter's, a favour which women rarely obtain, and which I only owed
to my having been a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. These catacombs
consist of handsome passages and pillars of masonry, which do not,
however, exceed eight or nine feet in height. A number of
sarcophagi, containing the remains of emperors and popes, are here
deposited.
The roof of St. Peter's covers an immense area, and is divided into
a number of cupolas, chambers, and buildings. A fountain of running
water is even found here. From this roof we have a splendid view as
far as the sea and the Apennines; we can descry the entire Vatican,
which adjoins the church, as well as the Pope's gardens.
I ascended to the ball in the great cupola, where there is nothing
to be seen, as there is not the slightest opening, much less a
window, left in it. Nothing is to be gained by mounting into this
dark narrow receptacle but the glory of being able to say, "I have
been there!" It is far more interesting to look down from the
windows and galleries of the great cupola into the body of the
church itself; for then we can estimate the grandeur of the colossal
building, and the people who walk about beneath appear like dwarfs.
Two noble fountains deck the square in front of St. Peter's, and in
the midst towers a magnificent obelisk from Heliopolis, said to
weigh 992,789 pounds. Near this obelisk are two slabs, by standing
on either of which we can see all the rows of columns melted as it
were into one.
My journey to Jerusalem also obtained for me an audience of the
Pope. His Holiness received me in a great hall adjoining the
Sixtine Chapel. Considering his great age of seventy-eight years,
the Pope has still a noble presence and most amiable manners. He
asked me some questions, gave me his blessing, and permitted me at
parting to kiss the embroidered slipper.
My second walk was to the Vatican. Here I saw the immense halls of
Raphael, the staircases of Bramante and Bernini, and the Sixtine
Chapel, containing Michael Angelo's masterpieces, the world-renowned
frescoes. The immense wall behind the high altar represents the
last judgment, while the ceilings are covered with prophets and
sybils.
The picture-gallery contains many works of the great masters, as
does also the gallery of vases and candelabra.
The Biga chamber. The biga is an antique carriage of white marble,
drawn by two horses.
In the gallery of statues the figure representing Nero as Apollo
playing on the lyre is the finest.
In the gallery of busts those of Menelaus and Jupiter pre-eminently
attract attention.
The name of the Laocoon cabinet indicates the masterpiece it
contains, as also the cabinet of the Apollo Belvidere. The latter
statue was found in Nero's baths at Porto d'Anzio.
The celebrated torso of the Belvidere, a fragment of Greek art,
which Michael partly used as his model, is placed in the square
vestibule. Never was flesh so pliably counterfeited in stone as in
this masterpiece.
A long gallery contains a series of tapestries, the designs for
which were drawn by Raphael.
The Vatican contains ten thousand rooms, twenty large halls, eight
large and about two hundred small staircases.
The Quirinal palace, the summer residence of the Pope, lies on the
hill of the same name (Monte Cavallo), which is quite covered with
villas and beautiful houses, on account of the salubrity of the air.
I visited most of the private palaces and picture-galleries. The
principal are, the Colonna palace, on the Quirinal hill; and the
Barberini palace, where we find a portrait of Raphael's mistress,
Fornarina, painted by himself, and an original picture of Beatrice
Cenci by Guidosteri.
The finest of all the Roman palaces is that of Borghese; from its
form, which resembles a piano, this building has obtained the name
of "il Cembalo di Borghese." The gallery contains sixteen hundred
paintings, most of them masterpieces by celebrated artists.
The Farnese palace is remarkable for its architecture, and the
Stoppani for its architect, Raphael. Besides these there are many
other palaces. I saw but few villas, for the weather was generally
bad, and it rained almost every day.
I visited the Villa Borghese on a Sunday, when there is a great
bustle here; for a stream of people on foot, on horseback, and in
carriages, sets in towards its beautiful park, situate just beyond
the Piazza del Popolo, in the same way that the crowds flock to our
beloved "Prater" on a fine day in spring. I also saw the Villa
Medicis and the Villa Pamfili. The latter boasts a very extensive
park.
I took care to visit most of the churches. My plan was to go out
early in the morning, and to inspect several churches until about
eleven o'clock, when it was time to repair to the galleries. When I
went to the principal churches,--for instance, those of St. John of
Lateran, St. Paul, St. Maria Maggiore, St. Lawrence, and St.
Sebastian,--I was always accompanied by a guide specially appointed
to conduct strangers to the churches. I could fill volumes with the
description of the riches and magnificence they display.
The church of St. John of Lateran possesses the wooden altar at
which St. Peter is said to have read mass, the wooden table at which
Jesus sat to eat the last supper, and the heads of the disciples
Peter and Paul. Near this church, in a building specially
constructed for it, is the Scala Santa (holy staircase), which was
brought from Jerusalem and deposited here. This is a flight of
twenty-eight steps of white marble, covered with boards, which no
one is allowed to ascend or descend in the regular way, every man
being required to shuffle up and down on his knees. Near this holy
stair a common one is built, which it is lawful to ascend in the
regular way.
The basilica of St. Paul lies beyond the gate of the same name, in a
very insalubrious neighbourhood. It is only just rebuilt, after
having been destroyed by fire.
The basilica Maria Maggiore, in which is deposited the "holy gate,"
has the highest belfry in Rome, and above its portico we see a
beautiful chamber where the new Pope stands to dispense the first
blessing among the people. In the chapel of the Crucifix five
pieces of the wood of the Saviour's manger are preserved in a silver
urn.
St. Lorenzo, a mile from the town, is a very plain-looking edifice.
Here we find the Campo Santo, or cemetery. The graves are covered
with large blocks of stone.
St. Bessoriana is also called the church of the Holy Cross of
Jerusalem, from the fact that a piece of the cross is preserved
here, besides the letters I.N.R.I., some thorns, and a nail.
St. Sebastian in the suburbs, one of the most ancient Roman
churches, is built over the great catacombs, in which 174,000
Christians were buried. The catacombs are some stories deep, and
extend over a large area.
All the above-named basilicas are so empty, and stand on such lonely
spots, that I was almost afraid to visit them alone.
The handsome church of Sta. Maria in Trastavare contrasts strangely
with the quarter of the town in which it lies. This part of Rome is
inhabited by people calling themselves descendants of the ancient
Trojans.
Sta. Maria ad Martyres, or the Rotunda, once the Pantheon of
Agrippa, is in better preservation than any other monument of
ancient Rome. The interior is almost in its pristine condition; it
contains no less than fifteen altars. In this church Raphael is
buried. The Rotunda has no windows, but receives air and light
through a circular opening in the cupola.
The best view of ancient Rome is to be obtained from the tower of
the Senate-house. From this place we see stretched out beneath us,
Mount Palatine, the site of ancient Rome; the Capitol, in the midst
of the city; the Quirinal hill (Monte Cavallo), with the summer
residence of the Pope; the Esquiline mount, the loftiest of the
hills; Mount Aventine; the Vatican; and lastly, Monte Testaccio,
consisting entirely of broken pottery which the Romans throw down
here.
I also paid a visit to the Ponte Publicius, the most ancient bridge
in Rome, in the neighbourhood of which Horatius Cocles achieved his
heroic action; and the Tullian prison, beneath the church of St.
Joseph of Falignani, where Jugurtha was starved to death. The
staircase leading up to the building is called "the steps of sighs."
The Capitol has unfortunately fallen into decay; we can barely
distinguish a few remains of temples and other buildings.
Of the graves of the Scipios I could also discover little more than
the site; the subterranean passages are nearly all destroyed.
The Marsfield is partly covered with buildings, and partly used as a
promenade.
Cestius' grave is uncommonly well preserved, and a pyramid of large
square stones surrounds the sarcophagus. The aqueducts are built of
large blocks of stone fastened together without mortar. They are
now no longer used, as they have partly fallen into decay, and some
of the springs have dried up.
The hot baths of Titus are well worthy a visit, though in a ruined
condition. Here the celebrated Laocoon group was found. Near these
baths is the great reservoir called the "Seven Halls of Titus."
One of the greatest and best-preserved buildings of ancient Rome is
the amphitheatre of Flavius, or the Colliseum, once the scene of the
combats with wild beasts. It was capable of holding 87,000
spectators. Four stories yet remain. This building is seen to the
greatest advantage by torchlight. I was fortunate enough to find an
opportunity of joining a large party, and we were thus enabled to
divide the expense. The triumphal arch of Titus, of white marble,
covered with glorious sculptures; the arches of Septimus Severus,
that of Janus, and several other antique monuments, are to be seen
near the Colliseum.
The beautiful bridge of St. Angelo, constructed entirely of square
blocks of stone, leads across the Tiber to the castle of the same
name, the tomb of Hadrian. The emperor caused this large round
building to be erected for his future mausoleum. It is built of
immense stone blocks, and now serves as a fortress and state-prison.
The temple of Marcus Aurelius is converted into the Dogana. That of
Minerva Medica lies in the midst of a vineyard, and is built in the
form of a rotunda. The upper part has sunk in.
There are twelve obelisks in the different public squares of Rome,
all brought from Egypt.
I have still to mention the 108 fountains, from which fresh water
continually spouts into the air. Foremost among them in size and
beauty is the Fontana Trevi.
I was prevented by the bad weather from making trips to any
distance, but one afternoon I drove to Tivoli. The road leading
thither is called the Tiburtinian. After travelling for about six
miles we become conscious of a dreadfully offensive sulphurous
smell, and soon find that it proceeds from a little river running
through the Solfatara. A ride of eighteen Italian miles brought us
to the town of Tivoli, lying amidst olive-woods on the declivity of
the Apennines, and numbering about 7000 inhabitants. Towards
evening I took a short walk in the town, beneath the protection of
an umbrella, and was not much pleased. Next morning I left the
house early, and proceeded first to the temple of Sybilla, built on
a rock opposite to the waterfall. Afterwards I went to view the
grotto of Neptune, and that through which the Arno flows, rushing
out of the cavern to fall headlong over a ledge of lofty rocks, and
form the cascade of Tivoli. The best view of this fall is obtained
from the bridge. Besides many pretty minor cascades, I saw a number
of ruins; the most remarkable among these was the villa of Mecaenas.
November 23d.
At six o'clock this morning I commenced my journey to Florence with
a Veturino. Almost the whole distance the weather was in the
highest degree unfavourable--it was foggy, rainy, and very cold. A
journey through Italy during autumn or winter is far from agreeable;
for there are generally cold and rain to be encountered, and no warm
rooms to be found in the inns, where fires are never kindled until
after the guests have arrived. And the fires they light in the
grates are, after all, quite inadequate to warm the damp, unaired
rooms, and the traveller feels scorched and cold almost at the same
moment. The floors are all of stone, but a few straw-mats are
sometimes spread beneath the dining-tables.
The landscape through which we travelled to-day did not possess many
attractions. For about forty miles, as far as Ronciglione, we saw
neither town nor village. The aspect of Ronciglione is rather
melancholy, though it boasts a broad street and many houses of two
stories. But the latter all have a gloomy look, and the town itself
appears to be thinly populated. We passed the night here.
According to Italian custom, I had made a bargain with the
proprietor of our vehicle for the journey, including lodging and
board. I was well satisfied, for he strictly kept his contract.
But whoever expects more than one meal a day under an arrangement of
this sort will find himself grievously mistaken; the traveller who
wishes to take any thing in the morning or in the middle of the day
must pay out of his own pocket. I found every thing here
exceedingly expensive and very bad.
November 24th.
To-day we passed through some very pretty, though not populous
districts. In the afternoon we at length reached two towns,--
namely, Viterbo, with 13,000 inhabitants, lying in a fruitful plain;
and Montefiascone, built on a high hill, and backed by lofty
mountains, on which a celebrated vine is cultivated. At the foot of
the hill, near Montefiascone, lies a small lake, and farther on one
of considerable size, the Lago de Balsana, with a little town of the
same name, once the capital of the Volsci. An ancient fortress
rises in the midst of this town, surrounded by tall and venerable
houses as with a wreath.
We had now to cross a considerable mountain, an undertaking of some
difficulty when we consider how heavily the rain had fallen. By the
aid of an extra pair of horses we passed safely over the miserable
roads, and took up our quarters for the night in the little village
of Lorenzo. We had already reached the domain of the Apennines.
November 25th.
We had now only a few more hours to travel through the papal
dominions. The river Centino forms the boundary between the States
of the Church and Tuscany. The greater portion of the region around
us gave tokens of its volcanic origin. We saw several grottoes and
caverns of broken stone resembling lava, basaltic columns, etc.
The Dogana of Tuscany, a handsome building, stands in the
neighbourhood of Ponte Centino. The country here wears a wild
aspect; as far as the eye can stretch, it rests upon mountains of
different elevations. The little town of Radicofani lies on the
plateau of a considerable hill, surrounded by rocks and huge blocks
of stone. A citadel or ancient fortress towers romantically above
the little town, and old towers look down from the summit of many a
hill and cliff. The character of the lower mountain-range is
exceedingly peculiar; it is split into gaps and fissures in all
directions, as though it had but recently emerged from the main.
For many hours we almost rode through a flood. The water streamed
down the streets, and the wind howled round our carriage with such
violence that we seriously anticipated being blown over. Luckily
the streets in the Tuscan are better than those in the Roman
territory, and the rivers are crossed by firm stone bridges.
November 26th.
To-day our poor horses had a hard time of it. Up hill and down
hill, and past yawning chasms, our way lay for a long time through a
desert and barren district, until, at a little distance from the
village of Buonconvento, the scene suddenly changed, and a widely-
extended, hilly country, with beautiful plains, the lovely town of
Siena, numerous villages great and small, with homesteads and
handsome farms, and solitary churches built on hills, lay spread
before us. Every thing shewed traces of cultivation and opulence.
Most of the women and girls we met were employed in plaiting straw.
Here all wear straw hats--men, women, and children. At five in the
evening we at length reached
SIENA.
Our poor horses were so exhausted by the bad roads of the Apennines,
that the driver requested leave to make a day's halt here. This
interruption to our journey was far from being unwelcome to me, for
Siena is well worthy to be explored.
November 27th.
The town numbers 16,000 inhabitants, and is divided almost into two
halves by a long handsome street. The remaining streets are small,
irregular, and dirty. The Piazza del Campo is very large, and
derives a certain splendour of appearance from some palaces built in
the gothic style. In the midst stands a granite pillar, bearing a
representation in bronze of Romulus and Remus suckled by the she-
wolf. I saw several other pillars of equal beauty in different
parts of the town, while in Rome, where they would certainly have
been more appropriate, I did not find a single one. All the houses
in the streets of Siena have a gloomy appearance; many of them are
built like castles, of great square blocks of stone, and furnished
with loopholes.
The finest building is undoubtedly the cathedral. Though I came
from the "city of churches," the beauty of this edifice struck me so
forcibly, that for a long time I stood silently regarding it. It
is, in truth, considered one of the handsomest churches in Italy.
It stands on a little elevation in the midst of a large square, and
is covered outside and inside with white marble. The lofty arches
of the windows, supported by columns, have a peculiarly fine effect;
and the frescoes in the sacristy are remarkable alike for the
correctness of outline and brilliancy of colour.
The drawings are said to be by Raphael; and the freshness of colour
observed in these frescoes is ascribed to the good qualities of the
Siena earth. The mass-books preserved in the sacristy contain some
very delicate miniatures on parchment.
Some of the wards in the neighbouring hospital are also decorated
with beautiful frescoes, which appear to date from the time of
Raphael.
The grace and beauty of the women of Siena have been extolled by
many writers. As to-day was Sunday, I attended high mass for the
purpose of meeting some of these graceful beauties. I found that
they were present in the usual average, and no more; beauty and
grace are no common gifts.
In the afternoon I visited the promenade, the Prato di Lizza, where
I found but little company. A fine prospect is obtained from the
walls of the town.
November 28th.
The country now becomes very beautiful. The mountains are less
high, the valleys widen, and at length hills only appear at
intervals, clothed with trees, meadows, and fields. In the Tuscan
dominions I noticed many cypresses, a tree I had not seen since my
departure from Constantinople and Smyrna. The country seems well
populated, and villages frequently appear.
At five in the evening we reached
FLORENCE,
but I did not arrive at Madame Mocalli's hotel until an hour and a
half later; for the examination of luggage and passes, and other
business of this kind, always occupies a long time.
The country round Florence is exceedingly lovely, without being
grand. The charming Arno flows through the town: it is crossed by
four stone bridges, one of them roofed and lined with booths on
either side. Florence contains 8000 houses and 90,000 inhabitants.
The exterior of the palaces here is very peculiar. Constructed
chiefly of huge blocks of stone, they almost resemble fortresses,
and look massive and venerable.
The cathedral is said to be the finest church in Christendom; I
thought it too simple, particularly the interior. The walls are
only whitewashed, and the painted windows render the church
extremely dark. I was best pleased with the doors of the sacristy,
with the celebrated works of Luca del Robbin, and the richly
decorated high altar.
The Battisterio, once a temple of Mars, with eight very fine doors
of bronze, which Michael Angelo pronounced worthy to be the gates of
Paradise, stands beside the cathedral.
The other principal churches are:--St. Lorenzo, also with a white
interior and grey pillars, containing some fine oil paintings, and
the chapel of the Medici, a splendid structure, decorated with
costly stones, and monuments of several members of the royal family.
St. Croce, a handsome church, full of monuments of eminent men, is
also called the Italian Pantheon; the sculptures are beautiful, and
the paintings good. The remains of Michael Angelo rest here, and
the Buonaparte family possess a vault beneath a side chapel.
Another chapel of considerable size contains some exquisite statues
of white marble.
St. Annunciate is rich in splendid frescoes; those placed round the
walls in the courtyard of the church, and surrounded by a glass
gallery, are particularly handsome. On the left as we enter we find
the costly chapel of our Lady "dell' Annunciata," in which the
altar, the immense candelabra, the angels and draperies, in short
every thing is of silver. This wealthy church contains in addition
some good pictures and a quantity of marble.
St. Michele is outwardly beautified by some excellent statues. The
interior displays several valuable paintings and an altar of great
beauty, beneath a white marble canopy in the Gothic style.
St. Spirito contains many sculptures, among which a statue of the
Saviour in white marble claims particular attention.
All these churches are rather dark from having stained windows.
Foremost among the palaces we may reckon the Palais Pitti, built on
a little hill. This structure has a noble appearance; constructed
entirely of pieces of granite, it seems calculated to last an
eternity. Of all the palaces I had seen, this one pleased me most;
it would be difficult to find a building in the same style which
should surpass it. As a rule, indeed, I particularly admired the
Florentine buildings, which seemed to me to possess a much more
decided _national_ appearance than the palaces of modern Rome.
The picture-gallery of this palace numbers five hundred paintings,
most of them masterpieces, among which we find Raphael's Madonna
della Sedia. Besides the pictures, each apartment contains gorgeous
tables of valuable stone.
Behind the palace the Boboli garden rises, somewhat in the form of a
terrace. Here I found numerous statues distributed with much taste
throughout charming alleys, groves, and open places. From the
higher points a splendid view is obtained.
The palace degli Ufizzi, on the Arno, has an imposing effect, from
its magnificent proportions and peculiar style of architecture.
Some of the greatest artistic treasures of the world are united in
the twenty halls and cabinets and three immense galleries of this
building.
The Tribuna contains the Venus de Medicis, found at Tivoli, and
executed by Cleomenes, a son of Apollodorus of Athens. Opposite to
it stands a statue of Apollino.
In the centre of the hall of the artists' portrait-gallery we find
the celebrated Medician vase.
The cabinet of jewels boasts the largest and finest onyx in
existence.
The Palazzo Vecchio resembles a fortified castle. The large
courtyard, surrounded by lofty arcades, is crowded with paintings
and sculptures. A beautiful fountain stands in the midst; and two
splendid statues, one representing Hercules and the other David,
adorn the entrance. The glorious fountain of Ammanato, drawn by
sea-horses and surrounded by Tritons, is not far off.
In the Gherardeska palace we find a fresco representing the horrible
story of Ugolino.
The Palazzo Strozzi should not be left out of the catalogue; it has
already stood for 360 years, and looks as though it had been
completed but yesterday.
In the Speccola we are shewn the human body and its diseases,
modelled in wax by the same artist who established a similar cabinet
at Vienna (in the Josephinum). In the museum of natural history
stuffed animals and their skeletons are preserved.
The traveller should not depart without visiting the "workshops for
hard stones," where beautiful pictures, table-slabs, etc. are put
together of Florentine marble. Splendid works are produced here; I
saw flowers and fruits constructed of stone which would not have
dishonoured the finest pencil. The enormous table in the palace
degli Ufizzi is said to have cost 40,000 ducats. Twenty-five men
were employed for twenty years in its construction; it is composed
of Florentine mosaic. This table did not strike me particularly; it
appeared overloaded with ornament.
Of the environs of Florence I only saw the Grand Duke's milk-farm, a
pleasant place near the Arno, amid beautiful avenues and meadows.
DEPARTURE FROM FLORENCE.
December 3d.
At seven in the evening I quitted Florence, and proceeded in the
mail-carriage to Bologna, distant about eighty miles. When the day
broke, we found ourselves on an acclivity commanding a really
splendid view. Numerous valleys, extending between low hills,
opened before our eyes, the snow-clad Apennines formed the
background, and in the far distance shone a gleaming stripe--the
Adriatic sea. At five in the evening of
December 4th
we reached Bologna.
This town is of considerable extent, numbers 50,000 inhabitants, and
has many fine houses and streets; all of these, however, are dull,
with the exception of a few principal streets. Beggars swarm at
every corner--an unmistakable token that we are once more in the
States of the Church.
December 5th.
This was a day of rest. I proceeded at once to visit the cathedral,
which is rich in frescoes, gilding, and arabesques. A few oil-
paintings are also not to be overlooked.
In the church of St. Dominic I viewed with most interest the
monument of King Enzio.
The picture-gallery contains a St. Cecilia, one of the earlier
productions of Raphael.
A fine fountain, with a figure of Neptune, graces the principal
square. In the Palazzo Publico I saw a staircase up which it is
possible to ride.
The most remarkable edifices at Bologna are the two square leaning
towers at the Porta Romagna. One of these towers is five, and the
other seven feet out of the perpendicular. Their aspect inspired me
with a kind of nervous dread; on standing close to the wall to look
up at them it really appeared as though they were toppling down. In
themselves these towers are not interesting, being simply
constructed of masonry, and not very lofty.
The finest spot in Bologna is the Campo Santo, the immense cemetery,
with its long covered ways and neat chapels, displaying a number of
costly monuments, the works of the first modern sculptors. Three
large and pleasant spots near these buildings serve as burial-places
for the poorer classes. In one the men are interred, in the second
the women, and in the third the children.
A hall three miglia in length, resting on 640 columns, leads from
this cemetery to a little hill, surmounted by the church of the
Madonna di St. Luca, and from thence almost back into the town. The
church just mentioned contains a miraculous picture, namely, a true
likeness of the Virgin, painted by St. Luke after a vision. The
complexion of this picture is much darker than that of the commonest
women I have seen in Syria. But faith is every thing, and so I will
not doubt the authenticity of the picture. The prospect from the
mountains is exceedingly fine.
I returned in the evening completely exhausted, and half an hour
afterwards was already seated in the post-carriage to pursue my
journey to Ferrara.
On the whole the weather was unfavourable; it rained frequently, and
the roads were mostly very bad, particularly in the domains of the
Pope, where we stuck fast four or five times during the night. On
one occasion of this kind we were detained more than an hour, until
horses and oxen could be collected to drag us onwards. We were
twelve hours getting over these fifty-four miles, from six in the
evening till the same hour in the morning.
December 6th.
This morning I awoke at Ferrara, where the carriage was to be
changed once more. I availed myself of a few spare hours to view
the town, which, on the whole, rather resembles a German than an
Italian place. It has fine broad streets, nice houses, and few
arched ways in front of them. In the centre of the town stands a
strong castle, surrounded by fortifications; this was once the
residence of the bishop.
At nine o'clock we quitted this pretty town, and reached the Po an
hour afterwards. We were ferried across the stream; and now, after
a long absence, I once more stood on Austrian ground. We continued
our journey through a lovely plain to Rovigo, a place possessing no
object of interest. Here we stayed to dine, and afterwards passed
the Adige, a stream considerably smaller than the Po. The country
between Rovigo and Padua was hidden from us by an impenetrable fog,
which prevented our seeing fifty paces in advance. At six o'clock
in the evening we reached Padua, our resting-place for the night.
Early next morning I hastened onwards, for I had already seen Padua,
Venice, Trieste, etc. in the year 1840.
I reached my native town safely and in perfect health, and had the
happiness of finding that my beloved ones were all well and
cheerful.
During my journey I had seen much and endured many hardships; I had
found very few things as I had imagined them to be.
Friends and relations have expressed a wish to read a description of
my lonely wanderings. I could not send my diary to each one; so I
have dared, upon the representations of my friends, and at the
particular request of the publisher of this book, to tell my
adventures in a plain unvarnished way.
I am no authoress; I have never written anything but letters; and my
diary must not, therefore, be judged as a literary production. It
is a simple narration, in which I have described every circumstance
as it occurred; a collection of notes which I wrote down for private
reference, without dreaming that they would ever find their way into
the great world. Therefore I would entreat the indulgence of my
kind readers; for--I repeat it--nothing can be farther from my
thoughts than any idea of thrusting myself forward into the ranks of
those gifted women who have received in their cradle the Muses'
initiatory kiss.
NOTES.
{23} A florin is worth about 2s. 1d.
{30} TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: "Use of the Reaumur scale was once
widespread, but by the late 19th century it had been supplanted by
other systems." (Encyc. Brit.) Some conversions to currently-used
scales (rounded down) are given here:--
Reaumur Fahrenheit Celsius
16 68 20
18 72 22
20 77 25
22 81 27
24 86 30
26 90 32
28 95 35
30 99 37
32 104 40
34 108 42
36 113 45
38 117 47
40 122 50
43 128 53
{40} They receive a dollar from the landlord for every guest whom
they bring to his house.
{48} Boats built very slenderly, and which have a great knack of
upsetting,--a circumstance which renders it necessary for the
occupant to sit like a statue; the slightest movement of the body,
or even of the head or arm, draws upon you a reproof from the
boatman.
{53} A piastre is worth about one and three-quarters pence.
{54} About one pound sterling.
{71a} A khan is a stone building containing a few perfectly empty
rooms, to receive the traveller in the absence of inns, or shelter
against the night air and against storm. Generally in these khans a
Turk is found, who dispenses coffee without milk to the visitors.
{71b} Its height is 9100 feet.--ED.
{79} The well-known artist and author.--ED.
{85} Smyrna is _one_ of the cities that claim the honour of being
the birthplace of Homer.--ED.
{101} Cakes or "scones" in Scotland are baked in the same way.--ED.
{165} I had cut my hair quite close, because I was seldom sure of
having time and opportunity during my long journey to dress and
plait it properly.
{167} This Emir could not maintain his position on Mount Lebanon,
and was summoned to Constantinople. At the time of our visit they
were still awaiting his return, though he had been absent more than
six months.
{236} This is a work of the young Viennese artist, Leander Russ,
who visited Egypt in the year 1832.
{261} A beshlik is worth five piastres in Turkey, and only four in
Egypt.
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