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A WOMAN’S JOURNEY ROUND THE WORLD, from Vienna to Brazil,
Chili, Tahiti, China, Hindostan, Persia, and Asia Minor.

BY IDA PFEIFFER.

An unabridged translation from the German.

PREFACE.

I have been called, in many of the public journals, a “professed
tourist;” but I am sorry to say that I have no title to the appellation
in its usual sense.  On the one hand I possess too little wit and
humour to render my writings amusing; and, on the other, too little
knowledge to judge rightly of what I have gone through.  The only
gift to which I can lay claim is that of narrating in a simple manner
the different scenes in which I have played a part, and the different
objects I have beheld; if I ever pronounce an opinion, I do so merely
on my own personal experience.

Many will perhaps believe that I undertook so long a journey from
vanity.  I can only say in answer to this—whoever thinks
so should make such a trip himself, in order to gain the conviction,
that nothing but a natural wish for travel, a boundless desire of acquiring
knowledge, could ever enable a person to overcome the hardships, privations,
and dangers to which I have been exposed.

In exactly the same manner as the artist feels an invincible desire
to paint, and the poet to give free course to his thoughts, so was I
hurried away with an unconquerable wish to see the world.  In my
youth I dreamed of travelling—in my old age I find amusement in
reflecting on what I have beheld.

The public received very favourably my plain unvarnished account
of “A Voyage to the Holy Land, and to Iceland and Scandinavia.” 
Emboldened by their kindness, I once more step forward with the journal
of my last and most considerable voyage, and I shall feel content if
the narration of my adventures procures for my readers only a portion
of the immense fund of pleasure derived from the voyage by

                                         THE
AUTHORESS.

Vienna, March 16, 1850.

With the hope that we may forward the views of the authoress, and
be the means of exciting the public attention to her position and wants,
we append the following statement by Mr. A. Petermann, which appeared
in the Athenæum of the 6th of December, 1851:

“Madame Pfeiffer came to London last April, with the intention
of undertaking a fresh journey; her love of travelling appearing not
only unabated, but even augmented by the success of her journey round
the world.  She had planned, as her fourth undertaking, a journey
to some of those portions of the globe which she had not yet visited—namely,
Australia and the islands of the Asiatic Archipelago; intending to proceed
thither by the usual route round the Cape.  Her purpose was, however,
changed while in London.  The recently discovered Lake Ngami, in
Southern Africa, and the interesting region to the north, towards the
equator—the reflection how successfully she had travelled among
savage tribes, where armed men hesitated to penetrate, how well she
had borne alike the cold of Iceland and the heat of Babylonia—and
lastly, the suggestion that she might be destined to raise the veil
from some of the totally unknown portions of the interior of Africa—made
her determine on stopping at the Cape, and trying to proceed thence,
if possible, northwards into the equatorial regions of the African Continent.

“Madame Pfeiffer left for the Cape, on the 22nd of May last,
in a sailing vessel—her usual mode of travelling by sea, steamboats
being too expensive.  She arrived safely at Cape Town on the 11th
of August, as I learned from a letter which I received from her last
week, dated the 20th of August.  From that letter the following
are extracts:—

“‘The impression which this place (Cape Town) made on
me, was not an agreeable one.  The mountains surrounding the town
are bare, the town itself (London being still fresh in my recollection)
resembles a village.  The houses are of only one story, with terraces
instead of roofs.  From the deck of the vessel a single tree was
visible, standing on a hill.  In short, on my arrival I was at
once much disappointed, and this disappointment rather increases than
otherwise.  In the town the European mode of living is entirely
prevalent—more so than in any other place abroad that I have seen. 
I have made a good many inquiries as to travelling into the interior;
and have been, throughout, assured that the natives are everywhere kindly
disposed to travellers, and that as a woman I should be able to penetrate
much farther than a man,—and I have been strongly advised to undertake
a journey as far as the unknown lakes, and even beyond.  Still,
with all these splendid prospects and hopes, I fear I shall travel less
in this country than in any other.  Here, the first thing you are
told is, that you must purchase waggons, oxen, horses, asses,—hire
expensive guides, etc., etc.  How far should I reach in this way
with my £100 sterling?  I will give you an example of the
charges in this country:—for the carriage of my little luggage
to my lodgings I had to pay 10s. 6d.!  I had previously landed
in what I thought the most expensive places in the world—London,
Calcutta, Canton, etc.—had everywhere a much greater distance
to go from the vessel to my lodgings, and nowhere had I paid half of
what they charged me here.  Board and lodging I have also found
very dear.  Fortunately, I have been very kindly received into
the house of Mr. Thaewitzer, the Hamburgh consul, where I live, very
agreeably, but do not much advance the object which brought me here. 
I shall, in the course of the month, undertake a short journey with
some Dutch boers to Klein Williams; and I fear that this will form the
beginning and the end of my travels in this country.’

“From these extracts it will be seen that the resolute lady
has at her command but very slender means for the performance of her
journeys.  The sum of £100, which was granted to her by the
Austrian government, forms the whole of her funds.  Private resources
she has none.  It took her twenty years to save enough money to
perform her first journey!—namely, that to the Holy Land. 
While in London, she received scarcely any encouragement; and her works
were not appreciated by the public, or indeed known, till she had left
this country.  It is to be regretted that the want of a little
pecuniary assistance should deter the enterprising lady from carrying
out her projected journey in Southern Africa.  Though not a scientific
traveller, she is a faithful recorder of what she sees and hears; and
she is prepared to note the bearings and distances of the journey, make
meteorological observations, and keep a careful diary—so that
the results of her projected journey would perhaps be of as much interest
as those of other travellers of greater pretensions.”

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.    THE VOYAGE TO THE BRAZILS.

CHAPTER II.    ARRIVAL AND SOJOURN IN RIO JANEIRO.

CHAPTER III.  EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF RIO JANEIRO.

CHAPTER IV.    JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE BRAZILS.

CHAPTER V.    THE VOYAGE ROUND CAPE HORN.

CHAPTER VI.    ARRIVAL AND RESIDENCE IN VALPARAISO.

CHAPTER VII.  THE VOYAGE FROM VALPARAISO TO CANTON, VIA TAHITI.

CHAPTER VIII.  CHINA.

CHAPTER IX.    THE EAST INDIES—SINGAPORE.

CHAPTER X.    THE EAST INDIES—CEYLON.

CHAPTER XI.    MADRAS AND CALCUTTA.

CHAPTER XII.  BENARES.

CHAPTER XIII.  ALLAHABAD, AGRA, AND DELHI.

CHAPTER XIV.  JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY.

CHAPTER XV.    JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY, CONTINUED.

CHAPTER XVI.  CONTINUATION OF JOURNEY AND SOJOURN.

CHAPTER XVII.  FROM BOMBAY TO BAGHDAD.

CHAPTER XVIII. MESOPOTAMIA, BAGHDAD, AND BABYLON.

CHAPTER XIX.  MOSUL AND NINEVEH.

CHAPTER XX.    PERSIA.

CHAPTER XXI.  SOJOURN IN TEBRIS.

CHAPTER XXII.  ASIATIC RUSSIA—ARMENIA, GEORGIA, AND MINGRELIA.

CHAPTER XXIII. EUROPEAN RUSSIA.

CHAPTER XXIV.  CONSTANTINOPLE AND ATHENS.

CHAPTER I.  THE VOYAGE TO THE BRAZILS.

DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA—STAY IN HAMBURGH—STEAMERS AND
SAILING VESSELS—DEPARTURE FROM HAMBURGH—CUXHAVEN—THE
BRITISH CHANNEL—FLYING-FISH—THE PHISOLIDA—CONSTELLATIONS—PASSING
THE LINE—THE “VAMPEROS”—A GALE AND STORM—CAPE
FRIO—ARRIVAL IN THE PORT OF RIO JANEIRO.

On the first of May, 1846, I left Vienna, and, with the exception
of slight stoppages at Prague, Dresden, and Leipsic, proceeded directly
to Hamburgh, there to embark for the Brazils.  In Prague I had
the pleasure of meeting Count Berchthold, who had accompanied me during
a portion of my journey in the East.  He informed me that he should
like to be my companion in the voyage to the Brazils, and I promised
to wait for him in Hamburgh.

I had a second most interesting meeting on the steamer from Prague
to Dresden, namely, with the widow of Professor Mikan.  In the
year 1817, this lady had, on the occasion of the marriage of the Austrian
Princess Leopaldine with Don Pedro I., followed her husband to the Brazils,
and afterwards made with him a scientific journey into the interior
of the country.

I had often heard this lady’s name mentioned, and my joy at
making her personal acquaintance was very great.  In the kindest
and most amiable manner she communicated to me the results of her long
experience, and added advice and rules of conduct, which proved afterwards
highly useful.

I arrived in Hamburgh on the 12th of May; and, as early as the 13th,
might have embarked on board a fine fast-sailing brig, which, besides,
was christened the “Ida,” like myself.  With a heavy
heart I saw this fine vessel set sail.  I was obliged to remain
behind, as I had promised my travelling companion to await his arrival. 
Week after week elapsed, with nothing but the fact of my staying with
my relatives to lighten the dreariness of suspense; at last, about the
middle of June, the Count came, and shortly afterwards we found a vessel—a
Danish brig, the “Caroline,” Captain Bock, bound for Rio
Janeiro.

I had now before me a long voyage, which could not be made under
two months at the least, and which, possibly, might last three or four. 
Luckily I had already lived for a considerable period on board sailing
vessels during my former travels, and was therefore acquainted with
their arrangements, which are very different from those of steamers. 
On board a steamer everything is agreeable and luxurious; the vessel
pursues her rapid course independent of the wind, and the passengers
enjoy good and fresh provisions, spacious cabins, and excellent society.

In sailing vessels all this is very different, as, with the exception
of the large East Indiamen, they are not fitted up for passengers. 
In them the cargo is looked upon as the principal thing, and in the
eyes of the crew passengers are a troublesome addition, whose comfort
is generally very little studied.  The captain is the only person
who takes any interest in them, since a third or even the half of the
passage-money falls to his share.

The space, too, is so confined, that you can hardly turn yourself
round in the sleeping cabins, while it is quite impossible to stand
upright in the berths.  Besides this, the motion of a sailing vessel
is much stronger than that of a steamer; on the latter, however, many
affirm that the eternal vibration, and the disagreeable odour of the
oil and coals, are totally insupportable.  For my own part, I never
found this to be the case; it certainly is unpleasant, but much easier
to bear than the many inconveniences always existing on board a sailing
vessel.  The passenger is there a complete slave to every whim
or caprice of the captain, who is an absolute sovereign and holds uncontrolled
sway over everything.  Even the food depends upon his generosity,
and although it is generally not absolutely bad, in the best instances,
it is not equal to that on board a steamer.

The following form the ordinary diet: tea and coffee without milk,
bacon and junk, soup made with pease or cabbage, potatoes, hard dumplings,
salted cod, and ship-biscuit.  On rare occasions, ham, eggs, fish,
pancakes, or even skinny fowls, are served out.  It is very seldom,
in small ships, that bread can be procured.

To render the living more palatable, especially on a long voyage,
passengers would do well to take with them a few additions to the ship’s
fare.  The most suitable are: portable soup and captain’s
biscuit—both of which should be kept in tin canisters to preserve
them from mouldiness and insects—a good quantity of eggs, which,
when the vessel is bound for a southern climate, should first be dipped
in strong lime-water or packed in coal-dust; rice, potatoes, sugar,
butter, and all the ingredients for making sangaree and potato-salad,
the former being very strengthening and the latter very cooling. 
I would strongly recommend those who have children with them to take
a goat as well.

As regards wine, passengers should take especial care to ask the
captain whether this is included in the passage-money, otherwise it
will have to be purchased from him at a very high rate.

There are also other objects which must not be forgotten, and above
all a mattress, bolster, and counterpane, as the berths are generally
unfurnished.  These can be purchased very cheaply in any seaport
town.

Besides this, it is likewise advisable to take a stock of coloured
linen.  The office of washerwoman is filled by a sailor, so that
it may easily be imagined that the linen does not return from the wash
in the best possible condition.

When the sailors are employed in shifting the sails, great care must
be taken to avoid injury by the falling of any of the ropes.  But
all these inconveniences are comparatively trifling; the greatest amount
of annoyance begins towards the end of the voyage.  The captain’s
mistress is his ship.  At sea he allows her to wear an easy negligé,
but in port she must appear in full dress.  Not a sign of the long
voyage, of the storms, of the glowing heat she has suffered, must be
visible.  Then begins an incessant hammering, planing, and sawing;
every flaw, every crack or injury is made good, and, to wind up, the
whole vessel is painted afresh.  The worst of all, however, is
the hammering when the cracks in the deck are being repaired and filled
up with pitch.  This is almost unbearable.

But enough of annoyances.  I have described them merely to prepare,
in some degree, those who have never been to sea.  Persons residing
in sea-port towns do not, perhaps, stand in need of this, for they hear
these matters mentioned every day; but such is not the case with us
poor souls, who have lived all our lives in inland cities.  Very
often we hardly know how a steamer or a sailing vessel looks, much less
the mode of life on board them.  I speak from experience, and know
too well what I myself suffered on my first voyage, simply because,
not having been warned beforehand, I took nothing with me save a small
stock of linen and clothes.

At present I will proceed with the progress of my voyage.  We
embarked on the evening of the 28th of June, and weighed anchor before
daybreak of the 29th.  The voyage did not commence in any very
encouraging manner; we had very little, in fact almost no wind at all,
and compared to us every pedestrian appeared to be running a race: we
made the nine miles to Blankenese in seven hours.

Luckily the slow rate at which we proceeded was not so disagreeable,
as, at first, for a considerable period we beheld the magnificent port,
and afterwards could admire, on the Holstein side, the beautiful country
houses of the rich Hamburghers, situated upon charming eminences and
surrounded by lovely gardens.  The opposite side, belonging to
Hanover, is as flat and monotonous as the other is beautiful. 
About here the Elbe, in many places, is from three to four miles broad.

Before reaching Blankenese the ships take in their stock of water
from the Elbe.  This water, although of a dirty and thick appearance,
is said to possess the valuable quality of resisting putridity for years.

We did not reach Glückstadt (37 miles from Hamburgh) before
the morning of the 30th.  As there was not now a breath of wind,
we were entirely at the mercy of the stream, and began drifting back. 
The captain, therefore, ordered the men to cast anchor, and profited
by the leisure thus forced upon him to have the chests and boxes made
fast on the deck and in the hold.  We idlers had permission granted
us to land and visit the town, in which, however, we found but little
to admire.

There were eight passengers on board.  The four cabin places
were taken by Count B—, myself, and two young people who hoped
to make their fortune sooner in the Brazils than in Europe.  The
price of a passage in the first cabin was 100 dollars (£20 16s.
8d.), and in the steerage 50 dollars (£10 8s. 4d.).

In the steerage, besides two worthy tradesmen, was a poor old woman
who was going, in compliance with the wish of her only son, who had
settled in the Brazils, to join him there, and a married woman whose
husband had been working as a tailor for the last six years in Rio Janeiro. 
People soon become acquainted on board ship, and generally endeavour
to agree as well as possible, in order to render the monotony of a long
voyage at all supportable.

On the 1st of July we again set sail in rather stormy weather. 
We made a few miles, but were soon obliged to cast anchor once more. 
The Elbe is here so wide, that we could hardly see its banks, and the
swell so strong, that sea-sickness began to manifest itself among our
company.  On the 2nd of July, we again attempted to weigh anchor,
but with no better success than the day before.  Towards evening
we saw some dolphins, called also tummler, or tumblers, as well
as several gulls, which announced to us that we were fast nearing the
sea.

A great many vessels passed quickly by us.  Ah! they could turn
to account the storm and wind which swelled out their sails, and drove
them rapidly towards the neighbouring port.  We grudged them their
good fortune; and perhaps we had to thank this specimen of Christian
love on our part, that on the 3rd of July, we had not got further than
Cuxhaven, seventy-four miles from Hamburgh.

The 4th of July was a beautifully fine day, for those who could remain
quietly on shore; but for those on board ship it was bad enough, as
there was not the slightest breath of wind stirring.  To get rid
of our lamentations, the captain launched out in praises of the charming
little town, and had us conveyed to land.  We visited the town,
as well as the bathing establishment and the lighthouse, and afterwards
actually proceeded as far as a place called the “Bush,”
where, as we were told, we should find a great abundance of strawberries. 
After wandering about, over fields and meadows, for a good hour in the
glowing heat, we found the Bush, it is true, but instead of strawberries,
discovered only frogs and adders there.

We now proceeded into the scanty wood, where we saw about twenty
tents erected.  A bustling landlord came up, and offering us some
glasses of bad milk, said that every year a fair is held in the Bush
for three weeks, or rather, on three successive Sundays, for during
the week days the booths are closed.  The landlady also came tripping
towards us, and invited us, in a very friendly manner, to spend the
next Sunday with them.  She assured us that we should “amuse
ourselves charmingly;” that we elder members of the company should
find entertainment in the wonderful performances of the tumblers and
jugglers, and the younger gentlemen find spruce young girls for partners
in the dance.

We expressed ourselves much pleased at this invitation, promised
to be sure to come, and then extended our walk to Ritzebüttel,
where we admired a small castle and a miniature park.

5th July.  Nothing is so changeable as the weather: yesterday
we were revelling in sunshine, and today we were surrounded by a thick,
dark fog; and yet this, bad as it was, we found more agreeable than
the fine weather of the day before, for a slight breeze sprang up, and
at nine o’clock in the morning, we heard the rattling of the capstan,
as the anchor was being weighed.  In consequence of this, the young
people were obliged to give up the idea of an excursion to the Bush,
and defer all dancing with pretty girls until their arrival in another
hemisphere, for it was fated that they should not set foot in Europe
again.

The transition from the Elbe to the North Sea is scarcely perceptible,
as the Elbe is not divided into different channels, but is eight or
ten miles broad at its mouth.  It almost forms a small sea of itself,
and has even the green hue of one.  We were, consequently, very
much surprised, on hearing the captain exclaim, in a joyful tone, “We
are out of the river at last.”  We imagined that we had long
since been sailing upon the wide ocean.

In the afternoon, we bore in sight of the island of Heligoland, which
belongs to the English, and presented really a magical appearance, as
it rose out from the sea.  It is a barren, colossal rock; and had
I not learned, from one of the newest works on geography, that it was
peopled by about 2,500 souls, I should have supposed the whole island
to have been uninhabited.  On three sides, the cliffs rise so precipitously
from the waves, that all access is impossible.

We sailed by the place at a considerable distance, and saw only the
towers of the church and lighthouse, in addition to the so-called “Monk,”
a solitary, perpendicular rock, that is separated from the main body,
between which and it there sparkles a small strip of sea.

The inhabitants are very poor.  The only sources of their livelihood
are fishing and bathing visitors.  A great number of the latter
come every year, as the bathing, on account of the extraordinary swell,
is reckoned extremely efficacious.  Unfortunately, great fears
are entertained that this watering-place cannot exist much longer, as
every year the island decreases in size, from the continual falling
away of large masses of rock, so that some day the whole place may disappear
into the sea.

From the 5th to the 10th of July, we had continued stormy and cold
weather, with a heavy sea, and great rolling of the ship.  All
we poor “land-lubbers” were suffering from sea sickness. 
We first entered the British Channel, also called “La Manche”
(420 miles from Cuxhaven) in the night of the 10-11th.

We awaited with impatience the rising of the sun, which would display
to our gaze two of the mightiest powers in Europe.  Luckily, the
day was fine and clear, and the two kingdoms lay before us, in such
magnificence and proximity, that the beholder was almost inclined to
believe that a sister people inhabited both countries.

On the coast of England, we saw the North Foreland, the Castle of
Sandown, and the town of Deal, stretching out at the foot of the cliffs,
which extend for many miles, and are about 150 feet high.  Further
on, we came in sight of the South Foreland; and lastly, the ancient
castle of Dover, that sits right bravely enthroned upon an eminence,
and overlooks the surrounding country, far and wide.  The town
itself lies upon the sea-shore.

Opposite Dover, at the narrowest part of the channel, we distinguished,
on the French coast, Cape Grisnez, where Napoleon erected a small building,
in order, it is said, to be at least able to see England; and, further
on, the obelisk raised in memory of the camp at Boulogne, by Napoleon,
but completed under Louis Philippe.

The wind being unfavourable, we were obliged, during the night, to
tack in the neighbourhood of Dover.  The great darkness which covered
both land and sea rendered this maneuvre a very dangerous one; firstly,
on account of the proximity of the coast; and, secondly, on account
of the number of vessels passing up and down the channel.  To avoid
a collision, we hung out a lantern on the foremast, while, from time
to time, a torch was lighted, and held over the side, and the bell frequently
kept sounding: all very alarming occurrences to a person unused to the
sea.

For fourteen days were we prisoners in the 360 miles of the Channel,
remaining very often two or three days, as if spell-bound, in the same
place, while we were frequently obliged to cruise for whole days to
make merely a few miles; and near Start we were overtaken by a tolerably
violent storm.  During the night I was suddenly called upon deck. 
I imagined that some misfortune had happened, and hastily throwing a
few clothes on, hurried up—to enjoy the astonishing spectacle
of a “sea-fire.”  In the wake of the vessel I behold
a streak of fire so strong that it would have been easy to read by its
light; the water round the ship looked like a glowing stream of lava,
and every wave, as it rose up, threw out sparks of fire.  The track
of the fish was surrounded by dazzling inimitable brilliancy, and far
and wide everything was one dazzling coruscation.

This extraordinary illumination of the sea is of very unfrequent
occurrence, and rarely happens after long-continued, violent storms. 
The captain told me that he had never yet beheld the sea so lighted
up.  For my part, I shall never forget the sight.

A second, and hardly less beautiful, spectacle came under our observation
at another time, when, after a storm, the clouds, gilt by the rays of
the sun, were reflected as in a mirror on the bosom of the sea. 
They glittered and shone with an intensity of colour which surpassed
even those of the rainbow.

We had full leisure to contemplate Eddystone Lighthouse, which is
the most celebrated building of the kind in Europe, as we were cruising
about for two days in sight of it.  Its height, and the boldness
and strength with which it is built, are truly wonderful; but still
more wonderful is its position upon a dangerous reef, situated ten miles
from the coast; at a distance, it seems to be founded in the sea itself.

We often sailed so near the coast of Cornwall, that not only could
we plainly perceive every village, but even the people in the streets
and in the open country.  The land is hilly and luxuriant, and
appears carefully cultivated.

During the whole time of our cruising in the Channel, the temperature
was cold and raw, the thermometer seldom being higher than 65° to
75° Fah.

At last, on the 24th of July, we came to the end of the Channel,
and attained the open sea; the wind was tolerably favourable, and on
the 2nd of August we were off Gibraltar, where we were becalmed for
twenty-four hours.  The captain threw several pieces of white crockeryware,
as well as a number of large bones overboard, to show how beautifully
green such objects appeared as they slowly sank down beneath the sea;
of course this can only be seen in a perfect calm.

In the evening we were greatly delighted by numbers of moluscæ
shining through the water; they looked exactly like so many floating
stars, about the size of a man’s hand; even by day we could perceive
them beneath the waves.  They are of a brownish red, and in form
resemble a toadstool; many had a thick pedicle, somewhat fimbriated
on the under part; others, instead of the pedicle, had a number of threads
hanging down from them.

4th August.  This was the first day that it was announced by
the heat that we were in a southern latitude; but, as was also the case
the following day, the clear dark blue sky that generally overarches
the Mediterranean in such exceeding loveliness, was still wanting. 
We found, however, some slight compensation for this in the rising and
setting of the sun, as these were often accompanied by unusual forms
and colours of the clouds.

We were now off Morocco, and were fortunate enough today to perceive
a great number of bonitos.  Every one on board bestirred himself,
and on every side fish hooks were cast overboard; unluckily only one
bonito allowed himself to be entrapped by our friendly invitations;
he made a dart at the bait, and his good-natured confidence procured
us a fresh meal, of which we had long been deprived.

On the 5th of August we saw land for the first time for twelve days. 
The sun was rising as the little island of Porto Santo greeted our sight. 
It is formed of peaked mountains, which, by their shape, betray their
volcanic origin.  A few miles in advance of the island stands the
beautiful Falcon Rock, like a sentinel upon the look-out.  We sailed
past Madeira (23 miles from Porto Santo) the same day, but unluckily
at such a distance that we could only perceive the long mountain chains
by which the island is intersected.  Near Madeira lie the rocky
Deserta Islands, which are reckoned as forming part of Africa.

Near these islands we passed a vessel running under reefed sails
before the wind, whence the captain concluded that she was a cruiser
looking after slavers.

On the 6th of August we beheld, for the first time, flying fish,
but at such a distance that we could scarcely distinguish them.

On the 7th of August we neared the Canary Isles, but unfortunately,
on account of the thick fog, we could not see them.  We now caught
the trade wind, that blows from the east, and is anxiously desired by
all sailors.

In the night of the 9-10th we entered the tropics.  We were
now in daily expectation of greater heat and a clearer sky, but met
with neither.  The atmosphere was dull and hazy, and even in our
own raw fatherland the sky could not have been so overcast, except upon
some days in November.  Every evening the clouds were piled upon
one another in such a way that we were continually expecting to see
a water-spout; it was generally not before midnight that the heavens
would gradually clear up, and allow us to admire the beautiful and dazzling
constellations of the South.

The captain told us that this was the fourteenth voyage he had made
to the Brazils, during which time he had always found the heat very
easily borne, and had never seen the sky otherwise than dull and lowering. 
He said that this was occasioned by the damp, unhealthy coast of Guinea,
the ill effects of which were perceptible much further than where we
then were, although the distance between us was 350 miles.

In the tropics the quick transition from day to night is already
very perceptible; 35 or 40 minutes after the setting of the sun the
deepest darkness reigns around.  The difference in the length of
day and night decreases more and more the nearer you approach the Equator. 
At the Equator itself the day and night are of equal duration.

All the 14th and 15th of August we sailed parallel with the Cape
de Verde Islands, from which we were not more than 23 miles distant,
but which, on account of the hazy state of the weather, we could not
see.

During this period we used to be much amused by small flocks of flying-fish,
which very often rose from the water so near the ship’s side that
we were enabled to examine them minutely.  They are generally of
the size and colour of a herring; their side fins, however, are longer
and broader, and they have the power of spreading and closing them like
little wings.  They raise themselves about twelve or fifteen feet
above the water, and then, after flying more than a distance of a hundred
feet, dive down again for a moment beneath the waves, to recommence
directly afterwards: this occurs most frequently when they are pursued
by bonitos or other foes.  When they were flying at some distance
from the ship they really looked like elegant birds.  We very frequently
saw the bonitos also, who were pursuing them, endeavour to raise themselves
above the water, but they seldom succeeded in raising more than their
head.

It is very difficult to catch one of these little denizens of the
air, as they are to be secured neither by nets or hooks; but sometimes
the wind will drive them, during the night, upon the deck, where they
are discovered, in the morning, dead, not having sufficient strength
to raise themselves from dry places; in this way I obtained a few specimens.

Today, August 15th, we enjoyed a most interesting sight.  We
happened, exactly at 12 o’clock, to be in the sun’s zenith,
and the sunbeams fell so perpendicularly that every object was perfectly
shadowless.  We put books, chairs, ourselves in the sun, and were
highly delighted with this unusual kind of amusement.  Luckily
we had chanced to be at the right spot at the right time; had we, at
the same hour, been only one degree nearer or one degree further, we
should have lost the entire sight; when we saw it we were 14° 6’
(a minute is equal to a nautical mile).

All observations with the sextant {9}
were out of the question until we were once more some degrees from the
zenith.

17th August.  Shoals of tunny-fish, (fish four and five feet
long, and belonging to the dolphin tribe,) were seen tumbling about
the ship.  A harpoon was quickly procured, and one of the sailors
sent out with it on the bowsprit; but whether he had bad luck, or was
unskilled in the art of harpooning, he missed his mark.  The most
wonderful part of the story, though, was that all the fish disappeared
as if by magic, and did not appear again for some days; it seemed as
if they had whispered and warned each other of the threatened danger.

All the oftener, however, did we see another inhabitant of the sea,
namely, that beautiful mollusca, the physolida, called by the sailors
Portugiesisches Segel-schiff; (Portuguese sailing-ship.) 
When floating upon the surface of the sea, with its long crest, which
it can elevate or depress at pleasure, it really resembles a delicate
tiny little sailing vessel.  I was very desirous of catching one
of these little creatures, but this could only be effected by means
of a net, which I had not got, nor had I either needle or twine to make
one.  Necessity, however, is the mother of invention; so I manufactured
a knitting needle of wood, unravelled some thick string, and in a few
hours possessed a net.  Very soon afterwards a mollusca had been
captured, and placed in a tub filled with sea water.  The little
creature’s body is about six inches long and two inches high;
the crest extends over the whole of the back, and in the middle, where
it is highest, measures about an inch and a half.  Both the crest
and body are transparent, and appear as if tinged with rose colour;
from the belly, which is violet, are suspended a number of threads or
arms of the same colour.

I hung the little thing up to dry at the stern, outside the ship;
some of the threads reached down into the water (a depth of at least
twelve feet), but most of them fell off.  After the animal was
dead, the crest remained erect, and the body perfectly filled out, but
the beautiful rose colour gradually changed to white.

18th August.  Today we had a heavy thunder-storm, for which
we were very grateful, as it cooled the air considerably.  Between
1° and 2°, or 3° North latitude, frequent changes in the
weather are very common.  For instance, on the morning of the 20th
we were overtaken by a strong wind, which lashed up the sea to a great
height, and continued until evening, when it gave way to a tropical
shower, which we at home should call a perfect water-spout.  The
deck was instantaneously transformed into a lake, while at the same
time the wind had so completely fallen that even the rudder enjoyed
a holiday.

This rain cost me a night’s rest, for when I went to take possession
of my berth, I found the bed-clothes drenched through and through, and
was fain to content myself with a wooden bench for a couch.

On the 27th of August we got beyond these hostile latitudes, and
were received by the anxiously desired south-east trade wind, which
hurried us quickly on our voyage.

We were now very near the Equator, and, like all other travellers,
wished very much to see the celebrated constellations of the south. 
I myself was most interested in the Southern Cross; and, as I could
not find it among the stars, I begged the captain to point it out to
me.  Both he and the first mate, however, said that they had never
heard of it, and the second mate was the only one to whom it did not
appear entirely unknown.  With his help, we really did discover
in the spangled firmament four stars, which had something of the form
of a somewhat crooked cross, but were certainly not remarkable in themselves,
nor did they excite the least enthusiasm amongst us.  A most magnificent
spectacle was, on the contrary, formed by Orion, Jupiter, and Venus;
the latter, indeed, shone so brilliantly that her gleams formed a silver
furrow across the waves.

The great frequency of falling stars is another fact that I cannot
corroborate.  They are, perhaps, more frequent than in cold climates,
but are far from being as common as is said: and as for their size,
I saw only one which surpassed ours; and this appeared about three times
as large as an ordinary star.

For some days also we had now seen the Cape, or Magellan’s
Clouds, and also the so-called Black Cloud.  The first are bright,
and, like the Milky Way, are formed of numberless small stars, invisible
to the naked eye; the latter presents a black appearance, and is said
to be produced by the absence of all stars whatever from this part of
the heavens.

All these different signs prepared us for the most interesting moment
of our voyage—namely, passing the line.

On the 29th of August, at 10 o’clock P.M., we saluted the southern
hemisphere for the first time.  A feeling nearly allied to pride
excited every one, but more especially those who crossed the line for
the first time.  We shook each other by the hand, and congratulated
one another mutually, as if we had done some great and heroic deed. 
One of the passengers had brought with him a bottle or two of champagne
to celebrate the event: the corks sprang gaily in the air, and with
a joyful “huzza,” the health of the new hemisphere was drunk.

No festivities took place among the crew.  This is at present
the case in most vessels, as such amusements seldom end without drunkenness
and disorder.  The sailors, however, could not let the cabin-boy,
who passed the line for the first time, go quite scot-free; so he was
well christened in a few buckets of salt water.

Long before passing the line, we passengers had frequently spoken
of all the sufferings and tortures we should be subjected to at the
Equator.  Every one had read or heard something exceedingly horrible,
which he duly communicated to all the rest.  One expected headache
or colic; a second had pictured to himself the sailors falling down
from exhaustion; a third dreaded such a fearful degree of heat, that
it would not only melt the pitch, {11}
but would so dry up the ship, that nothing but continual throwing water
over it could prevent its catching fire; while a fourth feared that
all the provisions would be spoilt, and ourselves nearly starved to
death.

For my own part, I had already congratulated myself on the tragical
stories I should be able to present to my readers; I beheld them shedding
tears at the narration of the sufferings we had experienced, and I already
appeared to myself half a martyr.  Alas! I was sadly deceived. 
We all remained in perfectly good health; not a sailor sank exhausted;
the ship did not catch fire; and the provisions were not spoilt—they
were just as bad as before.

3rd September.  From 2° to 3° South latitude the wind
is very irregular, and frequently excessively violent.  Today we
passed the 8° South latitude, without seeing land, which put the
captain in the best of humours.  He explained to us, that if we
had seen land, we should have been obliged to retrace our course almost
to the line, because the current sets in with such violence towards
the land, that the voyage could only be made at a proper distance.

7th September.  Between 10° and 20° South latitude we
again met with very peculiar prevalent winds.  They are called
vamperos; and oblige the sailor to be always on his guard, as
they spring up very suddenly, and are often extremely violent. 
We were overtaken by one during the night, but, luckily, it was not
of the worst kind.  In a few hours it had entirely passed over,
but the sea did not become calm again for a considerable time.

On the 9th and 11th of September, we encountered some short gusts
of the vamperos, the most violent being the last.

12th and 13th of September.  The first was termed by the captain
merely “a stiffish breeze;” but the second was entered in
the log {12} as “a
storm.”  The stiffish breeze cost us one sail; the storm,
two.  During the time it lasted, the sea ran so high, that it was
with the greatest difficulty we could eat.  With one hand we were
obliged to grasp the plate, and at the same time to hold fast on to
the table, while, with the other, we managed, with considerable difficulty,
to convey the food to our mouth.  At night, I was obliged to “stow”
myself firmly in my berth with my cloaks and dresses, to protect my
body from being bruised black and blue.

On the morning of the 13th, I was on deck at break of day. 
The helmsman led me to the side of the vessel, and told me to hold my
head overboard, and inhale the air.  I breathed a most beautiful
perfume of flowers.  I looked round in astonishment, and imagined
that I must already be able to see the land: it was, however, still
far distant, the soft perfume being merely drifted to us by the wind. 
It was very remarkable that inside the ship this perfume was not at
all perceptible.

The sea itself was covered with innumerable dead butterflies and
moths, which had been carried out to sea by the storm.  Two pretty
little birds, quite exhausted by their long flight, were resting upon
one of the yards.

For us, who, during two months and a half, had seen nothing but sky
and water, all these things were most satisfactory; and we looked out
anxiously for Cape Frio, which we were very near.  The horizon,
however, was lowering and hazy, and the sun had not force enough to
tear the murky veil asunder.  We looked forward with joy to the
next morning, but during the night were overtaken by another storm,
which lasted until 2 o’clock.  The ship’s course was
changed, and she was driven as far as possible into the open sea; so
that, in the end, we were glad enough to reach, the next day, the same
position we had occupied the morning before.

Today we caught no glimpse of land; but a few gulls and albatrosses
from Cape Frio warned us that we were near it, and afforded us some
little amusement.  They swam close up to the ship’s side,
and eagerly swallowed every morsel of bread or meat that was thrown
to them.  The sailors tried to catch some with a hook and line,
and were fortunate enough to succeed.  They were placed upon the
deck, and, to my great surprise, I perceived that they were unable to
raise themselves from it.  If we touched them, they merely dragged
themselves, with great difficulty, a few paces further, although they
could rise very easily from the surface of the water, and fly extremely
high.

One of the gentlemen was exceedingly anxious to kill and stuff one
of them, but the superstition of the sailors was opposed to this. 
They said that if birds were killed on board ship, their death would
be followed by long calms.  We yielded to their wishes and restored
the little creatures to the air and waves, their native elements.

This was another proof that superstition is still deep-rooted in
the minds of sailors.  Of this we had afterwards many other instances. 
The captain, for example, was always very averse to the passengers amusing
themselves with cards or any other game of chance; in another vessel,
as I was informed, no one was allowed to write on Sunday, etc. 
Empty casks or logs of wood were also very frequently thrown overboard
during a calm—probably as sacrifices to the deities of the winds.

On the morning of the 16th of September we at last had the good fortune
to perceive the mountains before Rio Janeiro, and soon singled out the
Sugarloaf.  At 2 o’clock, P.M., we entered the bay
and port of Rio Janeiro.

Immediately at the entrance of the bay are several conical rocks,
some of which, like the Sugarloaf, rise singly from the sea, while others
are joined at the base, and are almost inaccessible. {13} 
Between these “ocean mountains,” if I may be allowed the
expression, are seen the most remarkably beautiful views; now extraordinary
ravines, then some charmingly situated quarter of the town, presently
the open sea, and the moment after some delightful bay.  From the
bay itself, at the end of which the capital is built, rise masses of
rock, serving as foundations to different fortifications.  On some
of these eminences are chapels and fortresses.  Ships are obliged
to pass as near as possible to one of the largest of the latter, namely,
Santa Cruz, in order that their papers may be examined.

From this fortress, to the right, stretches the beautiful mountain
range of the Serados-Orgõas, which, in conjunction with other
mountains and hills, fringes a lovely bay, on the shores of which lie
the little town of Praya-grande, some few villages and detached farmhouses.

At the extremity of the principal bay, stands Rio Janeiro, surrounded
by a tolerably high chain of mountains (among which is the Corcovado,
2,100 feet high), behind which, more inland, is the Organ Mountain,
which owes its name to its many gigantic peaks placed upright one against
the other like the pipes of an organ.  The highest peak is 5,000
feet high.

One portion of the town is concealed by the Telegraph Mountain, and
several hills, on which, besides the Telegraph, there is a monastery
of Capuchin monks and other smaller buildings.  Of the town itself
are seen several rows of houses and open squares, the Great Hospital,
the Monasteries of St. Luzia and Moro do Castello, the Convent of St.
Bento, the fine Church of St. Candelaria, and some portions of the really
magnificent aqueduct.  Close to the sea is the Public Garden (passeo
publico
) of the town, which, from its fine palm trees, and elegant
stone gallery, with two summer-houses, forms a striking object. 
To the left, upon eminences, stand some isolated churches and monasteries,
such as St. Gloria, St. Theresa, etc.  Near these are the Praya
Flamingo and Botafogo, large villages with beautiful villas, pretty
buildings, and gardens, which stretch far away until lost in the neighbourhood
of the Sugarloaf, and thus close this most wonderful panorama. 
In addition to all this, the many vessels, partly in the harbour before
the town, partly anchored in the different bays, the rich and luxuriant
vegetation, and the foreign and novel appearance of the whole, help
to form a picture, of whose beauties my pen, unfortunately, can never
convey an adequate idea.

It rarely happens that a person is so lucky as to enjoy, immediately
on his arrival, so beautiful and extensive a view as fell to my lot;
fogs, clouds, or a hazy state of the atmosphere, very often conceal
certain portions, and thus disturb the wonderful impression of the whole. 
Whenever this is the case, I would advise every one, who intends stopping
any time in Rio Janeiro, to take a boat, on a perfectly clear day, as
far as Santa Cruz, in order to behold this peculiarly beautiful prospect.

It was almost dark before we reached the place of anchorage. 
We were first obliged to stop at Santa Cruz to have the ship’s
papers examined, and then appear before an officer, who took from us
our passports and sealed letters; then before a surgeon, who inspected
us to see that we had not brought the plague or yellow fever; and lastly,
before another officer, who took possession of different packets and
boxes, and assigned us the spot to anchor in.

It was now too late for us to land, and the captain alone proceeded
on shore.  We, however, remained for a long time on deck, contemplating
the magnificent picture before us, until both land and sea lay shrouded
in night.

With a light heart did we all retire to rest; the goal of our long
voyage had been attained without any misfortune worthy of being mentioned. 
A cruel piece of intelligence was in store for the poor tailor’s
wife alone; but the good captain did not break it to her today, in order
to let her enjoy an undisturbed night’s rest.  As soon as
the tailor heard that his wife was really on her passage out, he ran
off with a negress, and left nought behind but—debts.

The poor woman had given up a sure means of subsistence in her native
land (she supported herself by cleaning lace and ladies’ apparel),
and had devoted her little savings to pay the expenses of her voyage,
and all to find herself deserted and helpless in a strange hemisphere.
{14}

From Hamburgh to Rio Janeiro is about 8,750 miles.

CHAPTER II.  ARRIVAL AND SOJOURN IN RIO JANEIRO.

INTRODUCTION—ARRIVAL—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE
BLACKS AND THEIR RELATIONS TO THE WHITES—ARTS AND SCIENCES—FESTIVALS
OF THE CHURCH—BAPTISM OF THE IMPERIAL PRINCESS—FETE IN THE
BARRACKS—CLIMATE AND VEGETATION—MANNERS AND CUSTOMS—A
FEW WORDS TO EMIGRANTS.

I remained in Rio Janeiro above two months, exclusive of the time
devoted to my different excursions into the interior of the country;
it is very far from my intention, however, to tire the reader with a
regular catalogue of every trifling and ordinary occurrence.  I
shall content myself with describing the most striking features in the
town, and likewise in the manners and customs of the inhabitants, according
to the opportunities I possessed during my stay to form an opinion of
them.  I shall then give an account of my various excursions in
an Appendix, and afterwards resume the thread of my journal.

It was on the morning of the 17th of September that, after the lapse
of nearly two months and a half, I first set foot upon dry land. 
The captain himself accompanied the passengers on shore, after having
earnestly advised each one separately to be sure and smuggle nothing,
more especially sealed letters.  “In no part of the world,”
he assured us, “were the Custom-house officers so strict, and
the penalties so heavy.”

On coming in sight of the guard ship, we began to feel quite frightened
from this description, and made up our minds that we should be examined
from top to toe.  The captain begged permission to accompany us
on shore; this was immediately granted, and the whole ceremony was completed. 
During the entire period that we lived on board the ship, and were continually
going and coming to and from the town, we never were subjected to any
search; it was only when we took chests and boxes with us that we were
obliged to proceed to the Custom-house, where all effects are strictly
examined, and a heavy duty levied upon merchandise, books, etc., etc.

We landed at the Praya dos Mineiros, a disgusting and dirty sort
of square, inhabited by a few dozen blacks, equally disgusting and dirty,
who were squatted on the ground, and praising at the top of their voices
the fruits and sweetmeats which they were offering for sale.  Thence
we proceeded directly into the principal street (Rua Direita),
whose only beauty consists in its breadth.  It contains several
public buildings, such as the Post-office, the Custom-house, the Exchange,
the Guard-house, etc.; all of which, however, are so insignificant in
appearance, that any one would pass them by unnoticed, if there were
not always a number of people loitering before them.

At the end of this street stands the Imperial Palace, a commonplace,
large building, exactly resembling a private house, without the least
pretensions to taste or architectural beauty.  The square before
it (Largo do Paco), whose only ornament, a plain fountain, is
extremely dirty, and serves at night as a sleeping place for a number
of poor free negroes, who, on getting up in the morning, perform the
various duties of their toilet in public with the most supreme indifference. 
A part of the square is walled off and employed as a market for fish,
fruit, vegetables, and poultry.

Of the remaining streets the Rua Misericorda and the Rua Ouvidor
are the most interesting.  The latter contains the finest and largest
shops; but we must not expect the magnificent establishments we behold
in the cities of Europe—in fact, we meet with little that is beautiful
or costly.  The flower-shops were the only objects of particular
attraction for me.  In these shops are exposed for sale the most
lovely artificial flowers, made of birds’ feathers, fishes’
scales, and beetles’ wings.

Of the squares, the finest is the Largo do Rocio; the largest, the
Largo St. Anna.  In the first, which is always kept tolerably clean,
stand the Opera-house, the Government-house, the Police-office, etc. 
This, too, is the starting-place for most of the omnibuses, which traverse
the town in all directions.

The last-named square is the dirtiest in the whole town.  On
crossing it for the first time, I perceived lying about me half putrid
cats and dogs—and even a mule in the same state.  The only
ornament of this square is a fountain, and I almost think I should prefer
it if the fountain were, in this case, taken away; for, as soft water
is not very abundant in Rio Janeiro, the washerwoman’s noble art
pitches its tent wherever it finds any, and most willingly of all when,
at the same time, it meets with a good drying ground.  The consequence
is, that in the Largo St. Anna there is always such an amount of washing
and drying, of squalling and screaming, that you are glad to get away
as quickly as possible.

There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of the churches, either
inside or out.  The Church and Cloister of St. Bento and the Church
of St. Candelaria are the most deceptive; from a distance they have
a very imposing look.

The houses are built in the European fashion, but are small and insignificant;
most of them have only a ground-floor or single story,—two stories
are rarely met with.  Neither are there any terraces and verandahs
adorned with elegant trellis-work and flowers, as there are in other
warm countries.  Ugly little balconies hang from the walls, while
clumsy wooden shutters close up the windows, and prevent the smallest
sunbeam from penetrating into the rooms, where everything is enveloped
in almost perfect darkness.  This, however, is a matter of the
greatest indifference to the Brazilian ladies, who certainly never over-fatigue
themselves with reading or working.

The town offers, therefore, very little in the way of squares, streets,
and buildings, which, for a stranger, can prove in the least attractive;
while the people that he meets are truly shocking—nearly all being
negroes and negresses, with flat, ugly noses, thick lips, and short
woolly hair.  They are, too, generally half naked, with only a
few miserable rags on their backs, or else they are thrust into the
worn-out European-cut clothes of their masters.  To every four
or five blacks may be reckoned a mulatto, and it is only here and there
that a white man is to be seen.

This horrible picture is rendered still more revolting by the frequent
bodily infirmities which everywhere meet the eye: among these elephantiasis,
causing horrible club-feet, is especially conspicuous; there is, too,
no scarcity of persons afflicted with blindness and other ills. 
Even the cats and dogs, that run about the gutters in great numbers,
partake of the universal ugliness: most of them are covered with the
mange, or are full of wounds and sores.  I should like to be endowed
with the magic power of transporting hither every traveller who starts
back with affright from the lanes of Constantinople, and asserts that
the sight of the interior of this city destroys the effect produced
by it when viewed at a distance.

It is true that the interior of Constantinople is exceedingly dirty,
and that the number of small houses, the narrow streets, the unevenness
of the pavement, the filthy dogs, etc., do not strike the beholder as
excessively picturesque; but then he soon comes upon some magnificent
edifice of the time of the Moors or Romans, some wondrous mosque or
majestic palace, and can continue his walk through endless cemeteries
and forests of dreamy cypresses.  He steps aside before a pasha
or priest of high rank, who rides by on his noble steed, surrounded
by a brilliant retinue; he encounters Turks in splendid costumes, and
Turkish women with eyes that flash through their veils like fire; he
beholds Persians with their high caps, Arabs with their nobly-formed
features, dervises in fools’-caps and plaited petticoats like
women, and, now and then, some carriage, beautifully painted and gilt,
drawn by superbly caparisoned oxen.  All these different objects
fully make up for whatever amount of dirtiness may occasionally be met
with.  In Rio Janeiro, however, there is nothing that can in any
way amuse, or atone for the horrible and disgusting sights which everywhere
meet the eye.

It was not until I had been here several weeks that I became somewhat
accustomed to the appearance of the negroes and mulattoes.  I then
discovered many very pretty figures among the young negresses, and handsome,
expressive countenances among the somewhat dark-complexioned Brazilian
and Portuguese women; the men seem, as regards beauty, to be less favoured.

The bustle in the streets is far less than what I had been led to
expect from the many descriptions I had heard, and is certainly not
to be compared to that at Naples or Messina.  The greatest amount
of noise is made by those negroes who carry burdens, and especially
by such as convey the sacks full of coffee on board the different vessels;
they strike up a monotonous sort of song, to the tune of which they
keep step, but which sounds very disagreeable.  It possesses, however,
one advantage; it warns the foot passenger, and affords him time to
get out of the way.

In the Brazils, every kind of dirty or hard work, whether in doors
or out, is performed by the blacks, who here, in fact, replace the lower
classes.  Many, however, learn trades, and frequently are to be
compared to the most skilful Europeans.  I have seen blacks in
the most elegant workshops, making wearing apparel, shoes, tapestry,
gold or silver articles, and met many a nattily dressed negro maiden
working at the finest ladies’ dresses, or the most delicate embroidery. 
I often thought I must be dreaming when I beheld these poor creatures,
whom I had pictured to myself as roaming free through their native forests,
exercising such occupations in shops and rooms!  Yet they do not
appear to feel it as much as might be supposed—they were always
merry, and joking over their work.

Among the so-called educated class of the place, there are many who,
in spite of all the proofs of mechanical skill, as well as general intelligence
which the blacks often display, persist in asserting that they are so
far inferior to the whites in mental power, that they can only be looked
upon as a link between the monkey tribe and the human race.  I
allow that they are somewhat behind the whites in intellectual culture;
but I believe that this is not because they are deficient in understanding,
but because their education is totally neglected.  No schools are
erected for them, no instruction given them—in a word, not the
least thing is done to develop the capabilities of their minds. 
As was the case in old despotic countries, their minds are purposely
kept enchained; for, were they once to awake from their present condition,
the consequences to the whites might be fearful.  They are four
times as numerous as the latter, and if they ever become conscious of
this superiority, the whites might probably be placed in the position
that the unhappy blacks have hitherto occupied.

But I am losing myself in conjectures and reasonings which may, perhaps,
become the pen of a learned man, but certainly not mine, since I assuredly
do not possess the necessary amount of education to decide upon such
questions; my object is merely to give a plain description of what I
have seen.

Although the number of slaves in the Brazils is very great, there
is nowhere such a thing as a slave-market.  The importation of
them is publicly prohibited, yet thousands are smuggled in every year,
and disposed of in some underhand manner, which every one knows, and
every one employs.  It is true, that English ships are constantly
cruising off the coasts of Brazil and Africa, but even if a slaver happen
to fall into their hands, the poor blacks, I was told, were no more
free than if they had come to the Brazils.  They are all transported
to the English colonies, where, at the expiration of ten years, they
are supposed to be set at liberty.  But during this period, their
owners allow the greater number to die—of course, in the returns
only—and the poor slaves remain slaves still; but I repeat that
I only know this from hearsay.

After all, slaves are far from being as badly off as many Europeans
imagine.  In the Brazils they are generally pretty well treated;
they are not overworked, their food is good and nutritious, and the
punishments are neither particularly frequent nor heavy.  The crime
of running away is the only one which is visited with great rigour. 
Besides a severe beating, they have fetters placed round their neck
and feet; these they have to wear for a considerable period.  Another
manner of punishment consists in making them wear a tin mask, which
is fastened with a lock behind.  This is the mode of punishment
adopted for those who drink, or are in the habit of eating earth or
lime.  During my long stay in the Brazils, I only saw one negro
who had got on a mask of this description.  I very much doubt whether,
on the whole, the lot of these slaves is not less wretched than that
of the peasants of Russia, Poland, or Egypt, who are not called
slaves.

I was one day very much amused at being asked to stand godmother
to a negro, which I did, although I was not present at either baptism
or confirmation.  There is a certain custom here, that when a slave
has done anything for which he expects to be punished, he endeavours
to fly to some friend of his owner, and obtain a note, asking for the
remission of his punishment.  The writer of such a letter has the
title of godfather bestowed on him, and it would be accounted an act
of the greatest impoliteness not to grant the godfather’s request. 
In this way, I myself was fortunate enough to save a slave from punishment.

The town is tolerably well lighted, and the lighting is continued
to a considerable distance, on all sides, beyond the town itself; this
measure was introduced on account of the great number of blacks. 
No slave dare be seen in the streets later than 9 o’clock in the
evening, without having a pass from his master, certifying that he is
going on business for him.  If a slave is ever caught without a
pass, he is immediately conveyed to the House of Correction, where his
head is shaved, and he himself obliged to remain until his master buys
his freedom for four or five milreis.  (8s. 8d., or 10s. 10d.) 
In consequence of this regulation, the streets may be traversed with
safety at any hour of the night.

One of the most disagreeable things in Rio Janeiro is the total absence
of sewers.  In a heavy shower, every street becomes a regular stream,
which it is impossible to pass on foot; in order to traverse them, it
is requisite to be carried over by negroes.  At such times, all
intercourse generally ceases, the streets are deserted, parties are
put off, and even the payment of bills of exchange deferred.  It
is very seldom that people will hire a carriage, for it is an absurd
custom here, to pay as much for a short drive, as if the carriage were
required for the whole day; in both cases the charge is six milreis
(13s.)  The carriages are half-covered ones, with seats for two,
and are drawn by a pair of mules, on one of which the driver rides. 
Carriages and horses like the English are very seldom to be met with.

As regards the arts and sciences, I may mention the Academy of Fine
Arts, the Museum, Theatre, etc.  In the Academy of Fine Arts is
something of everything, and not much of anything—a few figures
and busts, most in plaster, a few architectural plans and pencil drawings,
and a collection of very old oil paintings.  It really seemed to
me as if some private picture gallery had been carefully weeded of all
the rubbish in it, which had then been put here out of the way. 
Most of the oil paintings are so injured, that it is scarcely possible
to make out what they are intended to represent, which, after all, is
no great loss.  The only thing respectable about them is their
venerable antiquity.  A startling contrast is produced by the copies
of them made by the students.  If the colours in the old pictures
are faded, in the modern ones they blaze with a superfluity of vividness;
red, yellow, green, etc., are there in all their force; such a thing
as mixing, softening, or blending them, has evidently never been thought
of.  Even at the present moment, I really am at a loss to determine
whether the worthy students intended to found a new school for colouring,
or whether they merely desired to make up in the copies for the damage
time had done the originals.

There were as many blacks and mulattoes among the students as whites,
but the number of them altogether was inconsiderable.

Music, especially singing and the pianoforte, is almost in a more
degraded position than painting.  In every family the young ladies
play and sing; but of tact, style, arrangement, time, etc., the innocent
creatures have not the remotest idea, so that the easiest and most taking
melodies are often not recognisable.  The sacred music is a shade
better, although even the arrangements of the Imperial Chapel itself
are susceptible of many improvements.  The military bands are certainly
the best, and these are generally composed of negroes and mulattoes.

The exterior of the Opera-house does not promise anything very beautiful
or astonishing, and the stranger is, consequently, much surprised to
find, on entering, a large and magnificent house with a deep stage. 
I should say it could contain more than 2,000 persons.  There are
four tiers of spacious boxes rising one above the other, the balustrades
of which, formed of delicately-wrought iron trellis-work, give the theatre
a very tasty appearance.  The pit is only for men.  I was
present at a tolerably good representation, by an Italian company, of
the opera of Lucrezia Borgia; the scenery and costumes are not
amiss.

If, however, I was agreeably surprised by my visit to the theatre,
I experienced quite a contrary feeling on going to the Museum. 
In a land so richly and luxuriously endowed by Nature, I expected an
equally rich and magnificent museum, and found a number of very fine
rooms, it is true, which one day or other may be filled, but which at
present are empty.  The collection of birds, which is the most
complete of all, is really fine; that of the minerals is very defective;
and those of the quadrupeds and insects poor in the extreme.  The
objects which most excited my curiosity, were the heads of four savages,
in excellent preservation; two of them belonged to the Malay, and two
to the New Zealand tribes.  The latter especially I could not sufficiently
contemplate, completely covered as they were with tattooing of the most
beautiful and elegant design, and so well preserved that they seemed
only to have just ceased to live.

During the period of my stay in Rio Janeiro, the rooms of the Museum
were undergoing repairs, and a new classification of the different objects
was also talked of.  In consequence of this, the building was not
open to the public, and I have to thank the kindness of Herr Riedl,
the director, for allowing me to view it.  He acted himself as
my guide; and, like me, regretted that in a country where the formation
of a rich museum would be so easy a task, so little had been done.

I likewise visited the studio of the sculptor Petrich, a native of
Dresden, who came over at the unsolicited command of the court, to execute
a statue of the emperor in Carrara marble.  The emperor is represented
the size of life, in a standing position, and arrayed in his imperial
robes, with the ermine cloak thrown over his shoulder.  The head
is strikingly like, and the whole figure worked out of the stone with
great artistic skill.  I believe this statue was destined for some
public building.

I was fortunate enough during my stay in Rio Janeiro to witness several
different public festivals.

The first was on the 21st of September, in the Church of St. Cruz,
on the occasion of celebrating the anniversary of the patron saint of
the country.  Early in the morning several hundred soldiers were
drawn up before the church, with an excellent band, which played a number
of lively airs.  Between ten and eleven, the military and civil
officers began gradually to arrive, the subordinate ones, as I was told,
coming first.  On their entrance into the church, a brownish-red
silk cloak, which concealed the whole of the uniform, was presented
to each.  Every time that another of a higher rank appeared, all
those already in the church rose from their seats, and advancing towards
the new comer as far as the church door, accompanied him respectfully
to his place.  The emperor and his wife arrived the last of all. 
The emperor is extremely young—not quite one and twenty—but
six feet tall, and very corpulent; his features are those of the Hapsburg-Lothering
family.  The empress, a Neapolitan princess, is small and slim,
and forms a strange contrast when standing beside the athletic figure
of her husband.

High mass, which was listened to with great reverence by every one,
began immediately after the entrance of the court, and after this was
concluded the imperial pair proceeded to their carriage, presenting
the crowd, who were waiting in the church, their hands to kiss as they
went along.  This mark of distinction was bestowed not only on
the officers and officials of superior rank, but on every one who pressed
forward to obtain it.

A second, and more brilliant festival occurred on the 19th of October;
it was the emperor’s birth-day, and was celebrated by high mass
in the Imperial Chapel.  This chapel is situated near the Imperial
Palace, to which it is connected by means of a covered gallery. 
Besides the imperial family, all the general officers, as well as the
first officials of the state, were present at the mass, but in full
uniform, without the ugly silk cloaks.  Surrounding all was a row
of Lancers (the body-guard).  It is impossible for any but an eye-witness
to form an idea of the richness and profusion of the gold embroidery,
the splendid epaulets, and beautifully set orders, etc., displayed on
the occasion, and I hardly believe that anything approaching it could
be seen at any European court.

During high mass, the foreign ambassadors, and the ladies and gentlemen
admitted to court, assembled in the palace, where, on the emperor’s
return, every one was admitted to kiss his hand.

The ambassadors, however, took no part in this proceeding, but merely
made a simple bow.

This edifying ceremony could easily be seen from the square, as the
windows are very near the ground, and were also open.  On such
occasions continual salutes are fired from the imperial ships, and sometimes
from others in the harbour.

On the 2nd of November I saw a festival of another description—namely,
a religious one.  During this and the following days, old and young
proceed from one church to another, to pray for the souls of the departed.

They have a singular custom here of not burying all their dead in
the church-yard, many bodies being placed, at an additional expense,
in the church itself.  For this purpose, there are, in every church,
particular chambers, with catacombs formed in the walls.  The corpse
is strewed with lime, and laid in a catacomb of this description, where,
after a lapse of eight or ten months, the flesh is completely eaten
away.  The bones are then taken out, cleaned by boiling, and collected
in an urn, on which is engraved the name, birth-day, etc., of the deceased. 
These urns are afterwards set up in the passages of the church, or sometimes
even taken home by the relations.

On All-souls’ day, the walls of the chambers are hung with
black cloth, gold lace, and other ornaments, and the urns are richly
decorated with flowers and ribbons, and are lighted up by a great number
of tapers in silver candelabra and chandeliers, placed upon high stands. 
From an early hour in the morning until noon, the women and young girls
begin praying very fervently for the souls of their deceased relations,
and the young gentlemen, who are quite as curious as those in Europe,
go to see the young girls pray.

Females on this day are dressed in mourning, and often wear, to the
great disgust of the curious young gentlemen before mentioned, a black
veil over their head and face.  No one, by the way, is allowed
to wear a bonnet at any festival of the church.

But the most brilliant of the public festivals I saw here, was the
christening of the imperial princess, which took place on the 15th of
November, in the Imperial Chapel, which is connected with the palace.

Towards 3 o’clock in the afternoon a number of troops were
drawn up in the court-yard of the palace, the guards were distributed
in the corridors and the church, while the bands played a series of
pleasing melodies, frequently repeating the National Anthem, which the
late emperor, Peter I., is said to have composed.  Equipage after
equipage began to roll up to the palace, and set down the most brilliantly
attired company of both sexes.

At 4 o’clock the procession began to leave the palace. 
First, came the court band, clothed in red velvet, and followed by three
heralds, in old Spanish costume, magnificently decorated hats and feathers,
and black velvet suits.  Next walked the officers of the law, and
the authorities of every rank, chamberlains, court physicians, senators,
deputies, generals, and ecclesiastics, privy councillors and secretaries;
and, lastly, after this long line of different personages, came the
lord steward of the young princess, whom he bore upon a magnificent
white velvet cushion, edged with gold lace.  Immediately behind
him followed the emperor, and the little princess’s nurse, surrounded
by the principal nobles and ladies of the court.  On passing through
the triumphal arch of the gallery, and coming before the pallium of
the church, the emperor took his little daughter {23a}
into his own arms, and presented her to the people; an act which pleased
me exceedingly, and which I considered extremely appropriate.

The empress, with her ladies, had likewise already arrived in the
church through the inner corridors, and the ceremony commenced forthwith. 
The instant the princess was baptized, the event was announced to the
whole town by salvos of artillery, volleys of musketry, and the discharge
of rockets. {23b} 
At the conclusion of the ceremony, which lasted above an hour, the procession
returned in the same order in which it had arrived, and the chapel was
then opened to the people.  I was curious enough to enter with
the rest, and, I must own, I was quite surprised at the magnificence
and taste with which the building was decorated.  The walls were
covered with silk and velvet hangings, ornamented with gold fringe,
while rich carpets were spread underfoot.  On large tables, in
the middle of the nave, were displayed the most valuable specimens of
the church plate, gold and silver vases, immense dishes, plates, and
goblets, artistically engraved, and ornamented with embossed or open
work; while magnificent vessels of crystal, containing the most beautiful
flowers, and massive candelabra, with innumerable lights, sparkled in
the midst.  On a separate table, near the high altar, were all
the costly vessels and furniture which had been employed at the christening;
and, in one of the side chapels, the princess’s cradle, covered
with white satin, and ornamented with gold lace.  In the evening,
the town, or rather, the public buildings, were illuminated.  The
proprietors of private houses are not required to light up; and they
either avail themselves of their privilege, or at most, hang out a few
lanterns—a fact which will be readily understood, when it is known
that such illuminations last for six or eight days.  The public
buildings, on the contrary, are covered from top to bottom with countless
lamps, which look exactly like a sea of fire.

The most original and really amusing fêtes to celebrate the
christening of the princess, were those given on several evenings in
some of the barracks: even the emperor himself made his appearance there
for a few moments on different occasions.  They were also the only
fêtes I saw here which were not mixed up with religious solemnities. 
The sole actors in them were the soldiers themselves, of whom the handsomest
and most active had previously been selected, and exercised in the various
evolutions and dances.  The most brilliant of these fêtes
took place in the barracks of the Rua Barbone.  A semicircular
and very tasty gallery was erected in the spacious court-yard, and in
the middle of the gallery were busts of the imperial couple.  This
gallery was set apart for the ladies invited, who made their appearance
as if dressed for the most splendid ball: at the entrance of the court-yard
they were received by the officers, and conducted to their places. 
Before the gallery stood the stage, and at each side of the latter were
ranged rows of seats for the less fashionable females; beyond these
seats was standing-room for the men.

At eight o’clock the band commenced playing, and shortly afterwards
the representation began.  The soldiers appeared, dressed in various
costumes, as Highlanders, Poles, Spaniards, etc.; nor was there any
scarcity of danseuses, who, of course, were likewise private
soldiers.  What pleased me most was, that both the dress and behaviour
of the military young ladies were highly becoming.  I had expected
at least some little exaggeration, or at best no very elegant spectacle;
and was therefore greatly astonished, not only with the correctness
of the dances and evolutions, but also with the perfect propriety with
which the whole affair was conducted.

The last fête that I saw took place on the 2nd of December,
in celebration of the emperor’s birth-day.  After high mass,
the different dignitaries again waited on the emperor, to offer their
congratulations, and were admitted to the honour of kissing his hand,
etc.  The imperial couple then placed themselves at a window of
the palace, while the troops defiled before them, with their bands playing
the most lively airs.  It would be difficult to find better dressed
soldiers than those here: every private might easily be mistaken for
a lieutenant, or at least a non-commissioned officer; but unluckily,
their bearing, size, and colour, are greatly out of keeping with the
splendour of their uniform—a mere boy of fourteen standing next
to a full-grown, well-made man, a white coming after a black, and so
on.

The men are pressed into the service; the time of serving is from
four to six years.

I had heard and read a great deal in Europe of the natural magnificence
and luxury of the Brazils—of the ever clear and smiling sky, and
the extraordinary charm of the continual spring; but though it is true
that the vegetation is perhaps richer, and the fruitfulness of the soil
more luxuriant and vigorous than in any other part of the world, and
that every one who desires to see the working of nature in its greatest
force and incessant activity, must come to Brazil; still it must not
be thought that all is good and beautiful, and that there is nothing
which will not weaken the magical effect of the first impression.

Although every one begins by praising the continual verdure and the
uninterrupted splendour of spring met with in this country, he is, in
the end, but too willing to allow, that even this, in time, loses its
charm.  A little winter would be preferable, as the reawakening
of nature, the resuscitation of the slumbering plants, the return of
the sweet perfume of spring, enchants us all the more, simply because
during a short period we have been deprived of it.

I found the climate and the air exceedingly oppressive; and the heat,
although at that period hardly above 86° in the shade, very weakening. 
During the warm months, which last from the end of December to May,
the heat rises in the shade to 99°, and in the sun to above 122°. 
In Egypt, I bore a greater amount of heat with far greater ease; a circumstance
which may perhaps be accounted for by the fact, that the climate is
there drier, while here there is always an immense degree of moisture. 
Fogs and mists are very common; the hills and eminences, nay, even whole
tracts of country, are often enveloped in impenetrable gloom, and the
whole atmosphere loaded with damp vapours.

In the month of November I was seriously indisposed for a considerable
period.  I suffered, especially in the town, from an oppressive
feeling of fatigue and weakness; and to the kindness and friendship
of Herr Geiger, the Secretary to the Austrian Consulate, and his wife,
who took me with them into the country, and showed me the greatest attention,
do I alone owe my recovery.  I ascribed my illness altogether to
the unusual dampness of the atmosphere.

The most agreeable season is said to be the winter (from June to
October); that, with a temperature of from 63° to 72°, is mostly
dry and clear.  This period is generally selected by the inhabitants
for travelling.  During the summer, violent thunder-storms are
of frequent occurrence: I myself only saw three during my stay in the
Brazils, all of which were over in an hour and a half.  The lightning
was almost incessant, and spread like a sheet of fire over the greater
portion of the horizon; the thunder, on the other hand, was inconsiderable.

Clear, cloudless days (from 16th September to 9th December) were
so rare, that I really could have counted them; and I am at a loss to
understand how so many travellers have spoken of the ever beautiful,
smiling, and blue sky of the Brazils.  This must be true of some
other portion of the year.

A fine evening and long twilight is another source of enjoyment which
may be said to be unknown: at sunset every one hastens home, as it is
immediately followed by darkness and damp.

In the height of summer the sun sets at about a quarter past 6, and
all the rest of the year at 6 o’clock; twenty or thirty minutes
afterwards, night sets in.

The mosquitoes, ants, baraten, and sand-fleas are another source
of annoyance; many a night have I been obliged to sit up, tormented
and tortured by the bite of these insects.  It is hardly possible
to protect provisions from the attacks of the baraten and ants. 
The latter, in fact, often appear in long trains of immeasureable length,
pursuing their course over every obstacle which stands in the way. 
During my stay in the country at Herr Geiger’s, I beheld a swarm
of this description traverse a portion of the house.  It was really
most interesting to see what a regular line they formed; nothing could
make them deviate from the direction they had first determined on. 
Madame Geiger told me that she was one night awoke by a horrible itching;
she sprang immediately out of bed, and beheld a swarm of ants of the
above description pass over her bed.  There is no remedy for this;
the end of the procession, which often lasts four or six hours, must
be waited for with patience.  Provisions are to some extent protected
from them, by placing the legs of the tables and presses in plates filled
with water.  Clothes and linen are laid in tightly-fitting tin
canisters, to protect them, not only from the ants, but also from the
baraten and the damp.

The worst plague of all, however, are the sand-fleas, which attach
themselves to one’s toes, underneath the nails, or sometimes to
the soles of the feet.  The moment a person feels an itching in
these parts he must immediately look at the place; if he sees a small
black point surrounded by a small white ring, the former is the flea,
and the latter the eggs which it has laid in the flesh.  The first
thing done is to loosen the skin all round as far as the white ring
is visible; the whole deposit is then extracted, and a little snuff
strewed in the empty space.  The best plan is to call in the first
black you may happen to see, as they all perform this operation very
skilfully.

As regards the natural products of the Brazils, a great many of the
most necessary articles are wanting in the list.  It is true that
there are sugar and coffee, but no corn, no potatoes, and none of our
delicious varieties of fruit.  The flour of manioc, which is mixed
up with the other materials of which the dishes are composed, supplies
the place of bread, but is far from being so nutritious and strengthening,
while the different kinds of sweet-tasting roots are certainly not to
be compared to our potatoes.  The only fruit, which are really
excellent, are the oranges, bananas and mangoes.  Their celebrated
pine-apples are neither very fragrant nor remarkably sweet; I certainly
have eaten much finer flavoured ones that had been grown in a European
hot-house.  The other kinds of fruit are not worth mentioning. 
Lastly, with the two very necessary articles of consumption, milk and
meat, the former is very watery, and the latter very dry.

On instituting a comparison between the Brazils and Europe, both
with respect to the impression produced by the whole, as also to the
separate advantages and disadvantages of each, we shall, perhaps, at
first find the scale incline towards the former country, but only to
turn ultimately with greater certainty in favour of the latter.

The Brazils is, perhaps, the most interesting country in the world
for travellers; but for a place of permanent residence I should most
decidedly prefer Europe.

I saw too little of the manners and customs of the country to be
qualified to pronounce judgment upon them, and I shall therefore, on
this head, confine myself to a few remarks.  The manners seem,
on the whole, to differ but little from those of Europe.  The present
possessors of the country, as is well known, derive their descent from
Portugal, and the Brazilians might very aptly be termed “Europeans
translated into Americans;” and it is very natural, that in this
“translation” many peculiarities have been lost, while others
have stood forth in greater relief.  The strongest feature in the
character of the European-American is the greed for gold; this often
becomes a passion, and transforms the most faint-hearted white into
a hero, for it certainly requires the courage of one to live alone,
as planter, on a plantation with perhaps some hundred slaves, far removed
from all assistance, and with the prospect of being irrevocably lost
in the event of any revolt.

This grasping feeling is not confined to the men alone; it is found
among the women as well, and is greatly encouraged by a common custom
here, agreeably to which, a husband never assigns his wife so much for
pin-money, but, according to his means, makes her a present of one or
more male or female slaves, whom she can dispose of as she chooses. 
She generally has them taught how to cook, sew, embroider, or even instructed
in some trade, and then lets them out, by the day, week, or month, {27}
to people who possess no slaves of their own; or she lets them take
in washing at home, or employs them in the manufacture of various ornamental
objects, fine pastry, etc, which she sends them out to sell.  The
money for these things belongs to her, and is generally spent in dress
and amusement.

In the case of tradesmen, and professional men, the wife is always
paid for whatever assistance she may lend her husband in his business.

Morality, unfortunately, is not very general in the Brazils; one
cause of this may be traced to the manner in which the children are
first brought up.  They are confided entirely to the care of blacks. 
Negresses suckle them when they are infants, their nurses are negresses,
their attendants are negresses—and I have often seen girls of
eight or ten years of age taken to school, or any other place, by young
negroes.  The sensuality of the blacks is too well known for us
to be surprised, with such a state of things, at the general and early
demoralization.  In no other place did I ever behold so many children
with such pale and worn faces as in the streets of Rio Janeiro. 
The second cause of immorality here is, without doubt, the want of religion. 
The Brazils are thoroughly Catholic—perhaps there are no countries
save Spain and Italy, that can be compared to them.  Almost every
day there is some procession, service, or church-festival; but these
are attended merely for the sake of amusement, while the true religious
feeling is entirely wanting.

We may also ascribe to this deep demoralization and want of religion
the frequent occurrence of murders, committed not for the sake of robbery
or theft, but from motives of revenge and hatred.  The murderer
either commits the deed himself, or has it perpetrated by one of his
slaves, who is ready to lend himself for the purpose, in consideration
of a mere trifle.  The discovery of the crime need cause the assassin
no anxiety, provided he is rich; for in this country everything, I was
assured, can be arranged or achieved with money.  I saw several
men in Rio Janeiro who had, according to report, committed either themselves,
or by the means of others, not one, but several murders, and yet they
not only enjoyed perfect liberty, but were received in every society.

In conclusion, I beg leave to address a few words to those of my
countrymen who think of leaving their native land, to seek their fortune
on the distant coast of Brazil—a few words which I could desire
to see as far spread and as well known as possible.

There are people in Europe not a whit better than the African slave-dealers,
and such people are those who delude poor wretches with exaggerated
accounts of the richness of America and her beautiful territories, of
the over-abundance of the products of the soil, and the lack of hands
to take advantage of them.  These people, however, care little
about the poor dupes; their object is to freight the vessels belonging
to them, and to effect this they take from their deluded victim the
last penny he possesses.

During my stay here, several vessels arrived with unfortunate emigrants
of this description; the government had not sent for them, and therefore
would afford them no relief; money they had none, and, consequently,
could not purchase land, neither could they find employment in working
on the plantations, as no one will engage Europeans for this purpose,
because, being unused to the warm climate, they would soon succumb beneath
the work.  The unhappy wretches had thus no resource left; they
were obliged to beg about the town, and, in the end, were fain to content
themselves with the most miserable occupations.  A different fate
awaits those who are sent for by the Brazilian government to cultivate
the land or colonize the country: these persons receive a piece of uncleared
ground, with provisions and other help; but if they come over without
any money at all, even their lot is no enviable one.  Want, hunger,
and sickness destroy most of them, and but a very small number succeed,
by unceasing activity and an iron constitution, in gaining a better
means of livelihood than what they left behind them in their native
land.  Those only who exercise some trade find speedy employment
and an easy competency; but even this will, in all probability, soon
be otherwise, for great numbers are pouring in ever year, and latterly
the negroes themselves have been, and are still being, more frequently
taught every kind of trade.

Let every one, therefore, obtain trustworthy information before leaving
his native land; let him weigh calmly and deliberately the step he is
about to take, and not allow himself to be carried away by deceptive
hopes.  The poor creature’s misery on being undeceived is
so much the more dreadful, because he does not learn the truth until
it is too late—until he has already fallen a victim to poverty
and want.

CHAPTER III.  EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF RIO JANEIRO.

THE WATERFALLS NEAR TESCHUKA—BOA VISTA—THE BOTANICAL
GARDENS AND THEIR ENVIRONS—THE CORCOVADO MOUNTAINS, 2,253 FEET
ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE SEA—PALACES OF THE IMPERIAL FAMILY—THE
NEWLY-FOUNDED GERMAN COLONY OF PETROPOLIS—ATTEMPT AT MURDER, BY
A MARROON NEGRO.

An excursion to the waterfalls near Teschuka, to Boa Vista, and the
Botanical Gardens, is one of the most interesting near the city; but
it requires two days, as it takes a long time to see the Botanical Gardens
alone.

Count Berchthold and myself proceeded as far as Andaracky (four miles)
in an omnibus, and then continued our journey on foot, between patches
of wood and low hills.  Elegant country houses are situated upon
the eminences and along the high road, at short distances from each
other.

When we had walked four miles, a path to the right conducted us to
a small waterfall, neither very high nor well supplied, but still the
most considerable one in the vicinity of Rio Janeiro.  We then
returned to the high road, and in half an hour reached a little elevated
plain, whence the eye ranged over a valley of the most remarkable description,
one portion of it being in a state of wild chaotic confusion, and the
other resembling a blooming garden.  In the former were strewed
masses of broken granite, from which, in some places, larger blocks
reared their heads, like so many Collossi; while in others large fragments
of rocks lay towering one above the other; in the second portion stood
the finest fruit trees in the midst of luxuriant pastures.  This
romantic valley is enclosed on three sides by noble mountains, the fourth
being open, and disclosing a full view of the sea.

In this valley we found a small venda, where we recruited
ourselves with bread and wine, and then continued our excursion to the
so-called “Great Waterfall,” with which we were less astonished
than we had been with the smaller one.  A very shallow sheet of
water flowed down over a broad but nowise precipitous ledge of rock
into the valley beneath.

After making our way through the valley, we came to the Porto Massalu,
where a number of trunks of trees, hollowed out and lying before the
few huts situated in the bay, apprized us that the inhabitants were
fishermen.  We hired one of these beautiful conveyances to carry
us across the little bay.  The passage did not take more than a
quarter of an hour at the most, and for this, as strangers, we were
compelled to pay two thousand reis (4s.).

We had now at one moment to wade through plains of sand, and the
next to clamber over the rocks by wretched paths.  In this laborious
fashion we proceeded for at least twelve miles, until we reached the
summit of a mountain, which rises like the party-wall of two mighty
valleys.  This peak is justly called the Boa Vista.  The view
extends over both valleys, with the mountain ranges and rows of hills
which intersect them, and embraces, among other high mountains, the
Corcovado and the “Two Brothers;” and, in the distance,
the capital, with the surrounding country-houses and villages, the various
bays and the open sea.

Unwillingly did we leave this beautiful position; but being unacquainted
with the distance we should have to go before reaching some hospitable
roof, we were obliged to hasten on; besides which negroes are the only
persons met with on these lonely roads, and a rencontre with
any of them by night is a thing not at all to be desired.  We descended,
therefore, into the valley, and resolved to sleep at the first inn we
came to.

More fortunate than most people in such cases, we not only found
an excellent hotel with clean rooms and good furniture, but fell in
with company which amused us in the highest degree.  It consisted
of a mulatto family, and attracted all my attention.  The wife,
a tolerably stout beauty of about thirty, was dressed out in a fashion
which, in my own country, no one, save a lady of an exceedingly vulgar
taste would ever think of adopting—all the valuables she possessed
in the world, she had got about her.  Wherever it was possible
to stick anything of gold or silver, there it was sure to be. 
A gown of heavy silk and a real cashmere enveloped her dark brown body,
and a charming little white silk bonnet looked very comical placed upon
her great heavy head.  The husband and five children were worthy
of their respective wife and mother; and, in fact, this excess of dress
extended even to the nurse, a real unadulterated negress, who was also
overloaded with ornaments.  On one arm she had five and on the
other six bracelets of stones, pearls, and coral, but which, as far
as I could judge, did not strike me as being particularly genuine.

When the family rose to depart, two landaus, each with four horses,
drove up to the door, and man and wife, children and nurse, all stepped
in with the same majestic gravity.

As I was still looking after the carriages, which were rolling rapidly
towards the town, I saw some one on horseback nodding to me: it was
my friend, Herr Geiger.  On hearing that we intended to remain
for the night where we were, he persuaded us to accompany him to the
estate of his father-in-law, which was situated close at hand. 
In the latter gentleman, we made the acquaintance of a most worthy and
cheerful old man of seventy years of age, who, at that period, was Directing
Architect and Superintendant of the Fine Arts under Government. 
We admired his beautiful garden and charming residence, built, with
great good taste, in the Italian style.

Early on the following morning, I accompanied Count Berchthold to
the botanical gardens.  Our curiosity to visit these gardens was
very great: we hoped to see there magnificent specimens of trees and
flowers from all parts of the world—but we were rather disappointed. 
The gardens have been founded too recently, and none of the large trees
have yet attained their full growth; there is no very great selection
of flowers or plants; and to the few that are there, not even tickets
are affixed, to acquaint the visitor with their names.  The most
interesting objects for us, were the monkey’s bread-tree, with
its gourds weighing ten or twenty-five pounds, and containing a number
of kernels, which are eaten, not only by monkeys, but also by men—the
clove, camphor, and cocoa-tree, the cinnamon and tea bush, etc. 
We also saw a very peculiar kind of palm-tree: the lower portion of
the trunk, to the height of two or three feet, was brown and smooth,
and shaped like a large tub or vat; the stems that sprang from this
were light green, and like the lower part, very smooth, and at the same
time shining, as if varnished; they were not very high, and the crest
of leaves, as is the case with other palms, only unfolded itself at
the top of the tree.  Unfortunately, we were unable to learn the
names of this kind of palm; and in the whole course of my voyage, I
never met with another specimen.

We did not leave the gardens before noon: we then proceeded on foot
four miles as far as Batafogo, and thence reached the city by omnibus.

Herr Geiger had invited Count Berchtholdt, Herr Rister, (a native
of Vienna), and myself to an excursion to the Corcovado mountains; and
accordingly, on the 1st November, at a time when we are often visited
by storms and snow, but when the sun is here in his full force, and
the sky without a cloud, at an early hour in the morning did we commence
our pilgrimage.

The splendid aqueduct was our guide as far as the springs from which
it derives the water, which point we reached in an hour and a half,
having been so effectually protected by the deep shade of lovely woods,
that even the intense heat of the sun, which reached during the day
more than 117°, (in the sun), scarcely annoyed us.

We stopped at the springs; and, on a sign from Herr Geiger, an athletic
negro made his appearance, loaded with a large hamper of provisions—everything
was soon prepared—a white cloth was spread out, and the eatables
and drinkables placed upon it.  Our meal was seasoned with jokes
and good humour; and when we started afresh on our journey, we felt
revived both in body and mind.

The last cone of the mountain gave us some trouble: the route was
very precipitous, and lay over bare, hot masses of rock.  But when
we did reach the top, we were more than repaid by seeing spread before
us such a panorama, as most assuredly is very seldom to be met with
in the world.  All that I had remarked on my entrance into the
port, lay there before me, only more clearly defined and more extended,
with innumerable additional objects.  We could see the whole town,
all the lower hills, which half hid it from my view on my arrival, the
large bay, reaching as far as the Organ mountain; and, on the other
side, the romantic valley, containing the botanical gardens, and a number
of beautiful country-houses.

I recommend every one who comes to Rio Janeiro, although it be only
for a few days, to make this excursion, since from this spot he can,
with one glance, perceive all the treasures which nature, with so truly
liberal a hand, has lavished upon the environs of this city.  He
will here see virgin forests, which, if not quite as thick and beautiful
as those farther inland, are still remarkable for their luxuriant vegetation. 
Mimosæ and Aarren bäume of a gigantic size, palms, wild coffee-trees,
orchidæn, parasites and creepers, blossoms and flowers, without
end; birds of the most brilliant plumage, immense butterflies, and sparkling
insects, flying in swarms from blossom to blossom, from branch to branch. 
A most wonderful effect also is produced by the millions of fire-flies,
which find their way into the very tops of the trees, and sparkle between
the foliage like so many brightly twinkling stars.

I had been informed that the ascent of this mountain was attended
with great difficulty.  I did not, however, find this to be the
case, since the summit may be reached with the greatest ease in three
hours and three quarters, while three parts of the way can also be performed
on horseback.

The regular residence of the imperial family may be said to be the
Palace of Christovao, about half an hour’s walk from the town. 
It is there that the emperor spends most of the year, and where also
all political councils are held, and state business transacted.

The palace is small, and is distinguished neither for taste nor architectural
beauty: its sole charm is its situation.  It is placed upon a hill,
and commands a view of the Organ mountain, and one of the bays. 
The palace garden itself is small, and is laid out in terraces right
down into the valley below: a larger garden, that serves as a nursery
for plants and trees, joins it.  Both these gardens are highly
interesting for Europeans, since they contain a great number of plants,
which either do not exist at all in Europe, or are only known from dwarf
specimens in hot-houses.  Herr Riedl, who has the management of
both gardens, was kind enough to conduct us over them himself, and to
draw my attention more especially to the tea and bamboo plantations.

Ponte de Cascher(four miles from the town) is another imperial garden. 
There are three mango trees here, which are very remarkable, from their
age and size.  Their branches describe a circle of more than eighty
feet in circumference, but they no longer bear fruit.  Among the
most agreeable walks in the immediate vicinity of the town, I may mention
the Telegraph mountain, the public garden (Jardin publico), the Praya
do Flamingo, and the Cloisters of St. Gloria and St. Theresia, etc.

I had heard so much in Rio Janeiro of the rapid rise of Petropolis,
a colony founded by Germans in the neighbourhood of Rio Janeiro, of
the beauty of the country where it was situated, and of the virgin forests
through which a part of the road ran—that I could not resist the
temptation of making an excursion thither.  My travelling companion,
Count Berchthold, accompanied me; and, on the 26th September, we took
two places on board one of the numerous barks which sail regularly every
day for the Porto d’Estrella, (a distance of twenty or twenty-two
nautical miles), from which place the journey is continued by land. 
We sailed through a bay remarkable for its extremely picturesque views,
and which often reminded me vividly of the peculiar character of the
lakes in Sweden.  It is surrounded by ranges of lovely hills, and
is dotted over with small islands, both separate and in groups, some
of which are so completely overgrown with palms, as well as other trees
and shrubs, that it seems impossible to land upon them, while others
either rear their solitary heads like huge rocks from the waves, or
are loosely piled one upon the other.  The round form of many of
the latter is especially remarkable: they almost seem to have been cut
out with a chisel.

Our bark was manned by four negroes and a white skipper.  At
first we ran before the wind with full sails, and the crew took advantage
of this favourable opportunity to make a meal, consisting of a considerable
quantity of flour of manioc, boiled fish, roasted mil, (Turkish corn),
oranges, cocoa-nuts, and other nuts of a smaller description; indeed,
there was even white bread, which for blacks is a luxury; and I was
greatly delighted to see them so well taken care of.  In two hours
the wind left us, and the crew were obliged to take to the oars, the
manner of using which struck me as very fatiguing.  At each dip
of the oar into the water, the rower mounts upon a bench before him,
and then, during the stroke, throws himself off again with his full
force.  In two hours more, we left the sea, and taking a left-hand
direction, entered the river Geromerim, at the mouth of which is an
inn, where we stopped half an hour, and where I saw a remarkable kind
of lighthouse, consisting of a lantern affixed to a rock.  The
beauty of the country is now at an end—that is, in the eyes of
the vulgar: a botanist would, at this point, find it more than usually
wonderful and magnificent; for the most beautiful aquatic plants, especially
the Nymphia, the Pontedera, and the Cyprian grass are spread out, both
in the water and all round it.  The two former twine themselves
to the very top of the nearest sapling, and the Cyprian grass attains
a height of from six to eight feet.  The banks of the river are
flat, and fringed with underwood and young trees; the background is
formed by ranges of hills.  The little houses, which are visible
now and then, are built of stone, and covered with tiles, yet, nevertheless,
they present a tolerably poverty-stricken appearance.

After sailing up the river for seven hours, we reached, without accident,
Porto d’Estrella, a place of some importance, since it is the
emporium for all the merchandise which is sent from the interior, and
then conveyed by water to the capital.  There are two good inns;
and, besides these, a large building (similar to a Turkish Khan) and
an immense tiled roof, supported on strong stone pillars.  The
first was appropriated to the merchandise, and the second to the donkey
drivers, who had arranged themselves very comfortably underneath it,
and were preparing their evening meal over various fires that were blazing
away very cheerfully.  Although fully admitting the charms of such
quarters for the night, we preferred retiring to the Star Inn, where
clean rooms and beds, and skilfully spiced dishes, possessed more attraction
for us.

27th September.  From Porto d’Estrella to Petropolis,
the distance is seven leagues.  This portion of the journey is
generally performed upon mules, the charge for which is four milreis
(8s. 8d.) each, but as we had been told in Rio Janeiro that the road
afforded a beautiful walk, parts of it traversing splendid woods, and
that it was besides much frequented, and perfectly safe, being the great
means of communication with Minas Gueras, we determined to go on foot,
and that the more willingly, as the Count wished to botanize, and I
to collect insects.  The first eight miles lay through a broad
valley, covered with thick brambles and young trees, and surrounded
with lofty mountains.  The wild pine-apples at the side of the
road presented a most beautiful appearance; they were not quite ripe,
and were tinged with the most delicate red.  Unfortunately, they
are far from being as agreeable to the taste as they are to the sight,
and consequently are very seldom gathered.  I was greatly amused
with the humming-birds, of which I saw a considerable number of the
smallest species.  Nothing can be more graceful and delicate than
these little creatures.  They obtain their food from the calyx
of the flowers, round which they flutter like butterflies, and indeed
are very often mistaken for them in their rapid flight.  It is
very seldom that they are seen on a branch or twig in a state of repose. 
After passing through the valley, we reached the Serra, as the Brazilians
term the summit of each mountain that they cross; the present one was
3,000 feet high.  A broad paved road, traversing virgin forests,
runs up the side of the mountain.

I had always imagined that in virgin forests the trees had uncommonly
thick and lofty trunks; I found that this was not here the case. 
The vegetation is probably too luxuriant, and the larger trunks are
suffocated and rot beneath the masses of smaller trees, bushes, creepers,
and parasites.  The two latter description of plants are so abundant,
and cover so completely the trees, that it is often impossible to see
even the leaves, much less the stems and branches.  Herr Schleierer,
a botanist, assured us that he once found upon one tree six and thirty
different kinds of creepers and parasites.

We gathered a rich harvest of flowers, plants, and insects, and loitered
along, enchanted with the magnificent woods and not less beautiful views,
which stretched over hill and dale, towards the sea and its bays, and
even as far as the capital itself.

Frequent truppas, {34a}
driven by negroes, as well as the number of pedestrians we met, eased
our minds of every fear, and prevented us from regarding it as at all
remarkable that we were being continually followed by a negro. 
As, however, we arrived at a somewhat lonely spot, he sprang suddenly
forward, holding in one hand a long knife and in the other a lasso,
{34b} rushed upon
us, and gave us to understand, more by gestures than words, that he
intended to murder, and then drag us into the forest.

We had no arms, as we had been told that the road was perfectly safe,
and the only weapons of defence we possessed were our parasols, if I
except a clasp knife, which I instantly drew out of my pocket and opened,
fully determined to sell my life as dearly as possible.  We parried
our adversary’s blows as long as we could with our parasols, but
these lasted but a short time; besides, he caught hold of mine, which,
as we were struggling for it, broke short off, leaving only a piece
of the handle in my hand.  In the struggle, however, he dropped
his knife, which rolled a few steps from him; I instantly made a dash,
and thought I had got it, when he, more quick than I, thrust me away
with his feet and hands, and once more obtained possession of it. 
He waved it furiously over my head, and dealt me two wounds, a thrust
and a deep gash, both in the upper part of the left arm; I thought I
was lost, and despair alone gave me the courage to use my own knife. 
I made a thrust at his breast; this he warded off, and I only succeeded
in wounding him severely in the hand.  The Count sprang forward,
and seized the fellow from behind, and thus afforded me an opportunity
of raising myself from the ground.  The whole affair had not taken
more than a few seconds.  The negro’s fury was now roused
to its highest pitch by the wounds he had received: he gnashed his teeth
at us like a wild beast, and flourished his knife with frightful rapidity. 
The Count, in his turn, had received a cut right across the hand, and
we had been irrevocably lost, had not Providence sent us assistance. 
We heard the tramp of horses’ hoofs upon the road, upon which
the negro instantly left us and sprang into the wood.  Immediately
afterwards two horsemen turned a corner of the road, and we hurried
towards them; our wounds, which were bleeding freely, and the way in
which our parasols were hacked, soon made them understand the state
of affairs.  They asked us which direction the fugitive had taken,
and, springing from their horses, hurried after him; their efforts,
however, would have been fruitless, if two negroes, who were coming
from the opposite side, had not helped them.  As it was, the fellow
was soon captured.  He was pinioned, and, as he would not walk,
severely beaten, most of the blows being dealt upon the head, so that
I feared the poor wretch’s skull would be broken.  In spite
of this he never moved a muscle, and lay, as if insensible to feeling,
upon the ground.  The two other negroes were obliged to seize hold
of him, when he endeavoured to bite every one within his reach, like
a wild beast, and carry him to the nearest house.  Our preservers,
as well as the Count and myself, accompanied them.  We then had
our wounds dressed, and afterwards continued our journey; not, it is
true, entirely devoid of fear, especially when we met one or more negroes
but without any further mishap, and with a continually increasing admiration
of the beautiful scenery.

The colony of Petropolis is situated in the midst of a virgin forest,
at an elevation of 2,500 feet above the level of the sea, and, at the
time of our visit, it had been founded about fourteen months, with the
especial purpose of furnishing the capital with certain kinds of fruit
and vegetables, which, in tropical climates, will thrive only in very
high situations.  A small row of houses already formed a street,
and on a large space that had been cleared away stood the wooden carcase
of a larger building—the Imperial Villa, which, however, would
have some difficulty in presenting anything like an imperial appearance,
on account of the low doors that contrasted strangely with the broad,
lofty windows.  The town is to be built around the villa, though
several detached houses are situated at some distance away in the woods. 
One portion of the colonists, such as mechanics, shop-keepers, etc.,
had been presented with small plots of ground for building upon, near
the villa; the cultivators of the soil had received larger patches,
although not more than two or three yokes.  What misery must not
these poor people have suffered in their native country to have sought
another hemisphere for the sake of a few yokes of land!

We here found the good old woman who had been our fellow passenger
from Germany to Rio Janeiro, in company with her son.  Her joy
at being once more able to share in the toils and labours of her favourite
had, in this short space of time, made her several years younger. 
Her son acted as our guide, and conducted us over the infant colony,
which is situated in broad ravines; the surrounding hills are so steep,
that when they are cleared of timber and converted into gardens, the
soft earth is easily washed away by heavy showers.

At a distance of four miles from the colony, a waterfall foams down
a chasm which it has worn away for itself.  It is more remarkable
for its valley-like enclosure of noble mountains, and the solemn gloom
of the surrounding woods, than for its height or body of water.

29th September.  In spite of the danger we had incurred in coming,
we returned to Porto d’Estrella on foot, went on board a bark,
sailed all night, and arrived safely in Rio Janeiro the next morning. 
Every one, both in Petropolis and the capital, was so astonished at
the manner in which our lives had been attempted, that if we had not
been able to show our wounds we should never have been believed. 
The fellow was at first thought to have been drunk or insane, and it
was not till later that we learned the real motives of his conduct. 
He had some time previously been punished by his master for an offence,
and on meeting us in the wood, he no doubt thought that it was a good
opportunity of satisfying, with impunity, his hatred against the whites.

CHAPTER IV.  JOURNEY INTO THE INTERIOR OF THE BRAZILS.

THE TOWNS OF MORROQUEIMADO (NOVO FRIBURGO) AND ALDEA DO PEDRO—PLANTATIONS
OF THE EUROPEANS—BURNING FORESTS—VIRGIN FORESTS—LAST
SETTLEMENT OF THE WHITES—VISIT TO THE INDIANS, ALSO CALLED PURIS
OR RABOCLES—RETURN TO RIO JANEIRO.

This second journey I also made in company of Count Berchthold, after
having resolved on penetrating into the interior of the country, and
paying a visit to the primitive inhabitants of the Brazils.

2nd October.  We left Rio Janeiro in the morning, and proceeded
in a steamer as far as the port of Sampajo, a distance of twenty-eight
miles.  This port lies at the mouth of the river Maccacu, but consists
of only one inn and two or three small houses.  We here hired mules
to take us to the town of Morroqueimado, eighty miles off.

I may take this opportunity of remarking that it is the custom in
the Brazils to hire the mules without muleteers—a great mark of
confidence on the part of the owners towards travellers.  Arrived
at their destination the animals are delivered up at a certain place
fixed on by the proprietor.  We preferred, however, to take a muleteer
with us, as we were not acquainted with the road, a piece of precaution
we regretted the less, on finding the way frequently obstructed with
wooden gates, which had always to be opened and shut again.

The price for hiring a mule was twelve milreis (£1 6s.).

As we arrived at Porto Sampajo by 2 o’clock, we resolved on
going on as far as Ponte do Pinheiro, a distance of sixteen miles. 
The road lay mostly through valleys covered with large bushes and surrounded
by low rocks.  The country wore a general aspect of wildness, and
only here and there were a few scanty pasture-grounds and poverty-stricken
huts to be seen.

The little town of Ponte de Cairas, which we passed, consists of
a few shops and vendas, a number of smaller houses, an inconsiderable
church, and an apothecary’s; the principal square looked like
a meadow.  Ponte do Pinheiro is rather larger.  We experienced
here a very good reception, and had an excellent supper, consisting
of fowls stewed in rice, flour of manioc, and Portuguese wine; we had
also good beds and breakfasts; the whole cost us, however, four milreis
(8s. 8d.).

3rd October.  We did not set off till 7 o’clock: here,
as everywhere else in the country, there is no getting away early in
the morning.

The scenery was of the same character as that passed the day before,
except that we were approaching the more lofty mountains.  The
road was tolerably good, but the bridges across the streams and sloughs
execrable; we esteemed ourselves fortunate whenever we passed one without
being compelled to stop.  After a ride of three hours (nine miles),
we reached the great Sugar-Fazenda {38}
de Collegio, which in its arrangements is exactly like a large country
seat.  To the spacious residence is attached a chapel, with the
offices lying all around; the whole is enclosed by a high wall.

Far and wide stretched the fields and low eminences, covered with
sugar canes: unfortunately, we could not see the mode of preparing the
sugar, as the canes were not yet ripe.

A planter’s fortune in the Brazils is calculated by the number
of his slaves.  There were eight hundred of them on the plantation
we were viewing—a large property, since each male slave costs
from six to seven hundred milreis (£60 to £70).

Not far from this fazenda, to the right of the high road, lies another
very considerable one, called Papagais; besides these we saw several
smaller plantations, which lent a little animation to the uniformity
of the scene.

St. Anna (sixteen miles distance) is a small place, consisting of
only a few poor houses, a little church, and an apothecary’s;
the last is a necessary appendage to every Brazilian village, even though
it only contains twelve or fifteen huts.  We here made a repast
of eggs with a bottle of wine, and gave our mules a feed of mil, for
which a cheating landlord, Herr Gebhart, charged us three milreis (6s.
6d.)

Today we did not proceed further than Mendoza (twelve miles), a still
more insignificant place than St. Anna.  A small shop and a venda
were the only houses at the road-side, though in the background we perceived
a manioc-fazenda, to which we paid a visit.  The proprietor was
kind enough first to offer us some strong coffee, without milk (a customary
mark of attention in the Brazils), and then to conduct us over his plantation.

The manioc plant shoots out stalks from four to six feet in height,
with a number of large leaves at their upper extremities.  The
valuable portion of the plant is its bulbous root, which often weighs
two or three pounds, and supplies the place of corn all through the
Brazils.  It is washed, peeled, and held against the rough edge
of a millstone, turned by a negro, until it is completely ground away. 
The whole mass is then gathered into a basket, plentifully steeped in
water, and is afterwards pressed quite dry by means of a press. 
Lastly it is scattered upon large iron plates, and slowly dried by a
gentle fire kept up beneath.  It now resembles a very coarse kind
of flour; and is eaten in two ways—wet and dry.  In the first
case, it is mixed with hot water until it forms a kind of porridge;
in the second, it is handed round, under the form of coarse flour, in
little baskets, and every one at table takes as much as he chooses,
and sprinkles it over his plate.

4th October.  The mountain ranges continue drawing nearer and
nearer to each other, and the woods become thicker and more luxuriant. 
The various creeping plants are indescribably beautiful: not only do
they entirely cover the ground, but they are so intertwined with the
trees that their lovely flowers hang on the highest branches, and look
like the blossoms of the trees themselves.  But there are likewise
trees whose own yellow and red blossoms resemble the most beautiful
flowers; while there are others whose great white leaves stand out like
silver from the surrounding mass of flowery green.  Woods like
these might well be called “the giant gardens of the world.” 
The palm-trees have here almost disappeared.

We soon reached the mountain range we had to cross, and on our way
often ascended such elevated spots that we had a free view extending
as far back as the capital.  On the top of the mountain (Alta da
Serra, sixteen miles from Mendoza) we found a venda.  From this
spot the distance to Morroqueimado is sixteen miles, which took us a
long time, as the road is either up or down hill the whole way. 
We were continually surrounded by the most magnificent woodlands, and
were only rarely reminded by a small plantation of kabï,
{39} or mil, that
we were in the neighbourhood of men.  We did not perceive the little
town until we had surmounted the last eminence and were in its immediate
vicinity.  It lies in a large and picturesque hollow, surrounded
by mountains at an elevation of 3,200 feet above the level of the sea. 
As night was near at hand, we were glad enough to reach our lodgings,
which were situated on one side of the town, in the house of a German
named Linderoth; they were very comfortable, and, as we afterwards found,
exceedingly reasonable, seeing that for our rooms and three good meals
a-day we only paid one milreis (2s. 2d.).

5th October.  The small town of Novo Friburgo, or Morroqueimado,
was founded about fifteen years since by French, Swiss, and Germans. 
It contains not quite a hundred substantial houses, the greater part
of which form an extremely broad street, while the others lie scattered
about, here and there.

We had already heard, in Rio Janeiro, a great deal of the Messrs.
Beske and Freese, and been particularly recommended not to forget to
pay a visit to each.  Herr Beske is a naturalist, and resides here
with his wife, who is almost as scientific as himself.  We enjoyed
many an hour in their entertaining society, and were shown many interesting
collections of quadrupeds, birds, serpents, insects, etc.; the collection
of these last, indeed, was more rich and remarkable than that in the
Museum of Rio Janeiro.  Herr Beske has always a great many orders
from Europe to send over various objects of natural history.  Herr
Freese is the director and proprietor of an establishment for boys,
and preferred establishing his school in this cool climate than in the
hot town beneath.  He was kind enough to show us all his arrangements. 
As it was near evening when we paid our visit, school was already over;
but he presented all his scholars to us, made them perform a few gymnastic
exercises, and proposed several questions on geography, history, arithmetic,
etc., which, without exception, they answered very carefully and correctly. 
His establishment receives sixty boys, and was quite full, although
the annual charge for each boy is one thousand milreis (£108 6s.
8d.).

6th October.  We had at first intended to stop only one day
in Novo Friburgo, and then continue our journey.  Unfortunately,
however, the wound which the Count had received on our excursion to
Petropolis became, through the frequent use of the hand and the excessive
heat, much worse; inflammation set in, and he was consequently obliged
to give up all ideas of going any further.  With my wounds I was
more fortunate, for, as they were on the upper part of the arm, I had
been enabled to pay them a proper degree of care and attention; they
were now proceeding very favourably, and neither dangerous nor troublesome. 
I had, therefore, no resource left but either to pursue my journey alone,
or to give up the most interesting portion of it, namely, my visit to
the Indians.  To this last idea I could by no means reconcile myself;
I inquired, therefore, whether the journey could be made with any degree
of safety, and as I received a sort of half-satisfactory answer, and
Herr Lindenroth found me also a trusty guide, I procured a good double-barrelled
pistol and set out undaunted upon my trip.

We at first remained for some time in the midst of mountain ranges,
and then again descended into the warmer region beneath.  The valleys
were generally narrow, and the uniform appearance of the woods was often
broken by plantations.  The latter, however, did not always look
very promising, most of them being so choked up with weeds that it was
frequently impossible to perceive the plant itself, especially when
it was young and small.  It is only upon the sugar and coffee plantations
that any great care is bestowed.

The coffee-trees stand in rows upon tolerably steep hillocks. 
They attain a height of from six to twelve feet, and begin to bear sometimes
as soon as the second, but in no case later than the third year, and
are productive for ten years.  The leaf is long and slightly serrated,
the blossom white, while the fruit hangs down in the same manner as
a bunch of grapes, and resembles a longish cherry, which is first green,
then red, brown, and nearly black.  During the time it is red,
the outer shell is soft, but ultimately becomes perfectly hard, and
resembles a wooden capsule.  Blossoms and fruit in full maturity
are found upon the trees at the same time, and hence the harvest lasts
nearly the whole year.  The latter is conducted in two ways. 
The berries are either gathered by hand, or large straw mats are spread
underneath, and the trees well shaken.  The first method is the
more troublesome, but, without comparison, the better one.

Another novelty, which I saw here for the first time, were the frequent
burning forests, which had been set on fire to clear the ground for
cultivation.  In most cases I merely saw immense clouds of smoke
curling upwards in the distance, and desired nothing more earnestly
than to enjoy a nearer view of such a conflagration.  My wish was
destined to be fulfilled today, as my road lay between a burning forest
and a burning rost. {40} 
The intervening space was not, at the most, more than fifty paces broad,
and was completely enveloped in smoke.  I could hear the cracking
of the fire, and through the dense vapour perceive thick, forked columns
of flame shoot upwards towards the sky, while now and then loud reports,
like those of a cannon, announced the fall of the large trees. 
On seeing my guide enter this fiery gulf, I was, I must confess, rather
frightened; but I felt assured, on reflecting, that he would certainly
not foolishly risk his own life, and that he must know from experience
that such places were passable.

At the entrance sat two negroes, to point out the direction that
wayfarers had to follow, and to recommend them to make as much haste
as possible.  My guide translated for me what they said, and spurred
on his mule; I followed his example, and we both galloped at full speed
into the smoking pass.  The burning ashes now flew around us in
all directions, while the suffocating smoke was even more oppressive
than the heat; our beasts, too, seemed to have great difficulty in drawing
breath, and it was as much as we could do to keep them in a gallop. 
Fortunately we had not above 500 or 600 paces to ride, and consequently
succeeded in making our way safely through.

In the Brazils a conflagration of this kind never extends very far,
as the vegetation is too green and offers too much opposition. 
The wood has to be ignited in several places, and even then the fire
frequently goes out, and when most of the wood is burnt, many patches
are found unconsumed.  Soon after passing this dangerous spot,
we came to a magnificent rock, the sides of which must have risen almost
perpendicularly to a height of 600 or 800 feet.  A number of detached
fragments lay scattered about the road, forming picturesque groups.

To my great astonishment, I learned from my guide that our lodging
for the night was near at hand; we had scarcely ridden twenty miles,
but he affirmed that the next venda where we could stop, was too far
distant.  I afterwards discovered that his sole object was to spin
out the journey, which was a very profitable one for him, since, besides
good living for himself, and fodder for his two mules, he received four
milreis (8s. 8d.) a-day.  We put up, therefore, at a solitary venda,
erected in the middle of the forest, and kept by Herr Molasz.

During the day we had suffered greatly from the heat; the thermometer
standing, in the sun, at 119° 75’ Fah.

The circumstance which must strike a traveller most forcibly in the
habits of the colonists and inhabitants of the Brazils, is the contrast
between fear and courage.  On the one hand, every one you meet
upon the road is armed with pistols and long knives, as if the whole
country was overrun with robbers and murderers; while, on the other,
the proprietors live quite alone on their plantations, and without the
least apprehension, in the midst of their numerous slaves.  The
traveller, too, fearlessly passes the night in some venda, situated
in impenetrable woods, with neither shutters to the windows nor good
locks to the doors, besides which the owner’s room is a considerable
distance from the chambers of the guests, and it would be utterly impossible
to obtain any assistance from the servants, who are all slaves, as they
live either in some corner of the stable, or in the loft.  At first
I felt very frightened at thus passing the night alone, surrounded by
the wild gloom of the forest, and in a room that was only very insecurely
fastened; but, as I was everywhere assured that such a thing as a forcible
entry into a house had never been heard of, I soon dismissed my superfluous
anxiety, and enjoyed the most tranquil repose.

I know very few countries in Europe where I should like to traverse
vast forests, and pass the night in such awfully lonely houses, accompanied
by only a hired guide.

On the 7th of October, also, we made only a short day’s journey
of twenty miles, to the small town of Canto Gallo.  The scenery
was of the usual description, consisting of narrow, circumscribed valleys
and mountains covered with endless forests.  If little fazendas,
and the remains of woods which had been set on fire, had not, every
now and then, reminded us of the hand of man, I should have thought
that I was wandering through some yet undiscovered part of Brazil.

The monotony of our journey was rather romantically interrupted by
our straying for a short distance from the right road.  In order
to reach it again, we were obliged to penetrate, by untrodden paths,
through the woods; a task presenting difficulties of which a European
can scarcely form an idea.  We dismounted from our mules, and my
guide threw back, on either side, the low-hanging branches, and cut
through the thick web of creepers; while, one moment, we were obliged
to climb over broken trunks, or squeeze ourselves between others, at
the next we sank knee-deep among endless parasitical plants.  I
began almost to despair of ever effecting a passage, and, even up to
the present day, am at a loss to understand how we succeeded in escaping
from this inextricable mass.

The little town of Canto Gallo is situated in a narrow valley, and
contains about eighty houses.  The venda stands apart, the town
not being visible from it.  The temperature here is warm as in
Rio Janeiro.

On my return to the venda, after a short walk to the town, I applied
to my landlady, in order to obtain a near and really correct idea of
a Brazilian household.  The good woman, however, gave herself very
little trouble, either in looking after the house or the kitchen; as
is the case in Italy, this was her husband’s business.  A
negress and two young negroes cooked, the arrangements of the kitchen
being of the most primitive simplicity.  The salt was pressed fine
with a bottle; the potatoes, when boiled, underwent the same process—the
latter were also subsequently squeezed in the frying-pan with a plate,
to give them the form of a pancake; a pointed piece of wood served for
a fork, etc.  There was a large fire burning for every dish.

Every one whose complexion was white, sat down with us at table. 
All the dishes, consisting of cold roast beef, black beans with boiled
carna secca, {42}
potatoes, rice, manioc flour, and boiled manioc roots, were placed upon
the table at the same time, and every one helped himself as he pleased. 
At the conclusion of our meal, we had strong coffee without milk. 
The slaves had beans, carna secca, and manioc flour.

8th October.  Our goal today was the Fazenda Boa Esperanza,
twenty-four miles off.  Four miles beyond Canto Gallo, we crossed
a small waterfall, and then entered one of the most magnificent virgin
forests I had yet beheld.  A small path, on the bank of a little
brook conducted us through it.  Palms, with their majestic tops,
raised themselves proudly above the other trees, which, lovingly interlaced
together, formed the most beautiful bowers; orchids grew in wanton luxuriance
upon the branches and twigs; creepers and ferns climbed up the trees,
mingling with the boughs, and forming thick walls of blossoms and flowers,
which displayed the most brilliant colours, and exhaled the sweetest
perfume; delicate humming-birds twittered around our heads; the pepper-pecker,
with his brilliant plumage, soared shyly upwards; parrots and parroquets
were swinging themselves in the branches, and numberless beautifully
marked birds, which I only knew from having seen specimens in the Museum,
inhabited this fairy grove.  It seemed as if I was riding in some
fairy park, and I expected, every moment, to see sylphs and nymphs appear
before me.

I was so happy, that I felt richly recompensed for all the fatigue
of my journey.  One thought only obscured this beautiful picture;
and that was, that weak man should dare to enter the lists with the
giant nature of the place, and make it bend before his will.  How
soon, perhaps, may this profound and holy tranquillity be disturbed
by the blows of some daring settler’s axe, to make room for the
wants of men!

I saw no dangerous animals save a few dark green snakes, from five
to seven feet long; a dead ounce, that had been stripped of its skin;
and a lizard, three feet in length, which ran timidly across our path. 
I met with no apes; they appear to conceal themselves deeper in the
woods, where no human footstep is likely to disturb them in their sports
and gambols.

During the whole distance from Canto Gallo to the small village of
St. Ritta (sixteen miles), if it had not again been for a few coffee
plantations, I should have thought the place completely forgotten by
man.

Near St. Ritta are some gold-washings in the river of the same name,
and not far from them, diamonds also are found.  Since seeking
or digging for diamonds is no longer an imperial monopoly, every one
is at liberty to employ himself in this occupation, and yet it is exercised
as much as possible in secret.  No one will acknowledge looking
for them, in order to avoid paying the State its share as fixed by law. 
The precious stones are sought for and dug out at certain spots, from
heaps of sand, stones, and soil, which have been washed down by the
heavy rains.

I had found lodgings in a venda for the last time, the preceding
evening, at Canto Gallo.  I had now to rely upon the hospitality
of the proprietors of the fazendas.  Custom requires that, on reaching
a fazenda, any person who desires to stop the middle of the day or the
night there, should wait outside and ask, through the servant, permission
to do so.  It is not until his application is granted, which is
almost always the case, that the traveller dismounts from his mule,
and enters the building.

They received me at the Fazenda of Boa Esperanza in the most friendly
manner, and, as I happened to arrive exactly at dinner-time (it was
between 3 and 4 o’clock), covers were immediately laid for me
and my attendant.  The dishes were numerous, and prepared very
nearly in the European fashion.

Great astonishment was manifested in every venda and fazenda at seeing
a lady arrive accompanied only by a single servant.  The first
question was, whether I was not afraid thus to traverse the woods alone;
and my guide was invariably taken on one side, and questioned as to
way I travelled.  As he was in the habit of seeing me collect flowers
and insects, he supposed me to be a naturalist, and replied that my
journey had a scientific object.

After dinner, the amiable lady of the house proposed that I should
go and see the coffee-plantations, warehouses, etc.; and I willingly
accepted her offer, as affording me an opportunity of viewing the manner
in which the coffee was prepared, from beginning to end.

The mode of gathering it I have already described.  When this
is done, the coffee is spread out upon large plots of ground, trodden
down in a peculiar manner, and enclosed by low stone walls, scarcely
a foot high, with little drain-holes in them, to allow of the water
running off in case of rain.  On these places the coffee is dried
by the glowing heat of the sun, and then shaken in large stone mortars,
ten or twenty of which are placed beneath a wooden scaffolding, from
which wooden hammers, set in motion by water power, descend into the
mortars, and easily crush the husks.  The mass, thus crushed, is
then placed in wooden boxes, fastened in the middle of a long table,
and having small openings at each side, through which both the berry
itself and the husk fall slowly out.  At the table are seated negroes,
who separate the berry from the husk, and then cast it into shallow
copper cauldrons, which are easily heated.  In these it is carefully
turned, and remains until it is quite dried.  This last process
requires some degree of care, as the colour of the coffee depends upon
the degree of heat to which it is exposed; if dried too quickly, instead
of the usual greenish colour, it contracts a yellowish tinge.

On the whole, the preparation of coffee is not fatiguing, and even
the gathering of it is far from being as laborious as reaping is with
us.  The negro stands in an upright posture when gathering the
berry, and is protected by the tree itself against the great heat of
the sun.  The only danger he incurs is of being bitten by some
venomous snake or other—an accident, however, which, fortunately,
rarely happens.

The work on a sugar-plantation, on the contrary, is said to be exceedingly
laborious, particularly that portion of it which relates to weeding
the ground and cutting the cane.  I have never yet witnessed a
sugar-harvest, but, perhaps, may do so in the course of my travels.

All work ceases at sunset, when the negroes are drawn up in front
of their master’s house for the purpose of being counted, and
then, after a short prayer, have their supper, consisting of boiled
beans, bacon, carna secca, and manioc flour, handed out to them.

At sunrise, they again assemble, are once more counted, and, after
prayers and breakfast, go to work.

I had an opportunity of convincing myself in this, as well as in
many other fazendas, vendas, and private houses, that the slaves are
by far not so harshly treated as we Europeans imagine.  They are
not overworked, perform all their duties very leisurely, and are well
kept.  Their children are frequently the playmates of their master’s
children, and knock each other about as if they were all equal. 
There may be cases in which certain slaves are cruelly and undeservedly
punished; but do not the like instances of injustice occur in Europe
also?

I am certainly very much opposed to slavery, and should greet its
abolition with the greatest delight, but, despite this, I again affirm
that the negro slave enjoys, under the protection of the law, a better
lot than the free fellah of Egypt, or many peasants in Europe, who still
groan under the right of soccage.  The principal reason of the
better lot of the slave, compared to that of the miserable peasant,
in the case in point, may perhaps partly be, that the purchase and keep
of the one is expensive, while the other costs nothing.

The arrangements in the houses belonging to the proprietors of the
fazendas are extremely simple.  The windows are unglazed, and are
closed at night with wooden shutters.  In many instances, the outer
roof is the common covering of all the rooms, which are merely separated
from one another by low partitions, so that you can hear every word
your neighbour says, and almost the breathing of the person sleeping
next to you.  The furniture is equally simple: a large table, a
few straw sofas, and a few chairs.  The wearing apparel is generally
hung up against the walls; the linen alone being kept in tin cases,
to protect it from the attacks of the ants.

In the country, the children of even the most opulent persons run
about frequently without shoes or stockings.  Before they go to
bed they have their feet examined to see whether any sand-fleas have
nestled in them; and if such be the case, they are extracted by the
elder negro children.

9th October.  Early in the morning I took leave of my kind hostess,
who, like a truly careful housewife, had wrapped up a roasted fowl,
manioc flour, and a cheese for me, so that I was well provisioned on
setting off.

The next station, Aldea do Pedro, on the banks of the Parahyby, was
situated at a distance of sixteen miles.  Our way lay through magnificent
woods, and before we had traversed half of it, we arrived at the river
Parahyby, one of the largest in the Brazils, and celebrated, moreover,
for the peculiar character of its bed, which is strewed with innumerable
cliffs and rocks; these, owing to the low state of the stream, were
more than usually conspicuous.  On every side rose little islands,
covered with small trees or underwood, lending a most magic appearance
to the river.  During the rainy season, most of these cliffs and
rocks are covered with water, and the river then appears more majestic. 
On account of the rocks it can only be navigated by small boats and
rafts.

As you proceed along the banks, the scenery gradually changes. 
The fore-part of the mountain ranges subside into low hills, the mountains
themselves retreat, and the nearer you approach Aldea do Pedro, the
wider and more open becomes the valley.  In the background alone
are still visible splendid mountain ranges, from which rises a mountain
higher than the rest, somewhat more naked, and almost isolated. 
To this my guide pointed, and gave me to understand that our way lay
over it, in order to reach the Puris, who lived beyond.

About noon I arrived at Aldea do Pedro, which I found to be a small
village with a stone church; the latter might, perhaps, contain 200
persons.  I had intended continuing my journey to the Puris the
same day, but my guide was attacked with pains in his knee, and could
not ride further.  I had, therefore, no resource but to alight
at the priest’s, who gave me a hearty welcome; he had a pretty
good house, immediately adjoining the church.

10th October.  As my guide was worse, the priest offered me
his negro to replace him.  I thankfully accepted his offer, but
could not set off before 1 o’clock, for which I was, in some respects,
not sorry, as it was Sunday, and I hoped to see a great number of the
country people flock to mass.  This, however, was not the case;
although it was a very fine day there were hardly thirty people at church. 
The men were dressed exactly in the European fashion; the women wore
long cloaks with collars, and had white handkerchiefs upon their heads,
partly falling over their faces as well; the latter they uncovered in
church.  Both men and women were barefooted.

As chance would have it, I witnessed a burial and a christening. 
Before mass commenced, a boat crossed over from the opposite bank of
the Parahyby, and on reaching the side, a hammock, in which was the
deceased, was lifted out.  He was then laid in a coffin which had
been prepared for the purpose in a house near the churchyard. 
The corpse was enveloped in a white cloth, with the feet and half the
head protruding beyond it; the latter was covered with a peaked cap
of shining black cloth.

The christening took place before the burial.  The person who
was to be christened was a young negro of fifteen, who stood with his
mother at the church door.  As the priest entered the church to
perform mass, he christened him, in passing by, without much ceremony
or solemnity, and even without sponsors; the boy, too, seemed to be
as little touched by the whole affair as a new born infant.  I
do not believe that either he or his mother had the least idea of the
importance of the rite.

The priest then hurriedly performed mass, and read the burial service
over the deceased, who had belonged to rather a wealthy family, and
therefore was respectably interred.  Unfortunately, when they wanted
to lower the corpse into its cold resting-place, the latter was found
to be too short and too narrow, and the poor wretch was so tossed about,
coffin and all, that I expected every moment to see him roll out. 
But all was of no avail, and after a great deal of useless exertion
no other course was left but to place the coffin on one side and enlarge
the grave, which was done with much unwillingness and amid an unceasing
volley of oaths.

This fatiguing work being at last finished, I returned to the house,
where I took a good déjeuner à la fourchette in
company with the priest, and then set out with my black guide.

We rode for some time through a broad valley between splendid woods,
and had to cross two rivers, the Parahyby and the Pomba, in trunks of
trees hollowed out.  For each of these wretched conveyances I was
obliged to pay one milreis (2s. 2d.), and to incur great danger into
the bargain; not so much on account of the stream and the small size
of the craft, as of our mules, which, fastened by their halter, swam
alongside, and frequently came so near that I was afraid that we should
be every moment capsized.

After riding twelve miles further, we reached the last settlement
of the whites. {47} 
On an open space, which had with difficulty been conquered from the
virgin forest, stood a largish wooden house, surrounded by a few miserable
huts, the house serving as the residence of the whites, and the huts
as that of the slaves.  A letter which I had brought from the priest
procured me a welcome.

The manner of living in this settlement was of such a description
that I was almost tempted to believe that I was already among savages.

The large house contained an entrance hall leading into four rooms,
each of which was inhabited by a white family.  The whole furniture
of these rooms consisted of a few hammocks and straw mats.  The
inhabitants were cowering upon the floor, playing with the children,
or assisting one another to get rid of their vermin.  The kitchen
was immediately adjoining the house, and resembled a very large barn
with openings in it; upon a hearth that took up nearly the entire length
of the barn, several fires were burning, over which hung small kettles,
and at each side were fastened wooden spits.  On these were fixed
several pieces of meat, some of which were being roasted by the fire
and some cured by the smoke.  The kitchen was full of people: whites,
Puris, and negroes, children whose parents were whites and Puris, or
Puris and negroes—in a word, the place was like a book of specimens
containing the most varied ramifications of the three principal races
of the country.

In the court-yard was an immense number of fowls, beautifully marked
ducks and geese; I also saw some extraordinarily fat pigs, and some
horribly ugly dogs.  Under some cocoa-palms and tamarind-trees,
were seated white and coloured people, separate and in groups, mostly
occupied in satisfying their hunger.  Some had got broken basins
or pumpkin-gourds before them, in which they kneaded up with their hands
boiled beans and manioc flour; this thick and disgusting-looking mess
they devoured with avidity.  Others were eating pieces of meat,
which they likewise tore with their hands, and threw into their mouths
alternately with handfuls of manioc flour.  The children, who also
had their gourds before them, were obliged to defend the contents valiantly;
for at one moment a hen would peck something out, and, at the next,
a dog would run off with a bit, or sometimes even a little pig would
waggle up, and invariably give a most contented grunt when it had not
performed the journey for nothing.

While I was making these observations, I suddenly heard a merry cry
outside the court-yard; I proceeded to the place from which it issued,
and saw two boys dragging towards me a large dark brown serpent; certainly
more than seven feet long, at the end of a bast-rope.  It was already
dead, and, as far as I could learn from the explanations of those about
me, it was of so venomous a kind, that if a person is bitten by it,
he immediately swells up and dies.

I was rather startled at what I heard, and determined at least not
to set out through the wood just as evening was closing in, as I might
have to take up my quarters for the night under some tree; I therefore
deferred my visit to the savages until the next morning.  The good
people imagined that I was afraid of the savages, and earnestly assured
me that they were a most harmless race, from whom I had not the least
to fear.  As my knowledge of Portuguese was limited to a few words,
I found it rather difficult to make myself understood, and it was only
by the help of gesticulations, with now and then a small sketch, that
I succeeded in enlightening them as to the real cause of my fear.

I passed the night, therefore, with these half savages, who constantly
showed me the greatest respect, and overwhelmed me with attention. 
A straw mat, which, at my request, was spread out under shelter in the
court-yard, was my bed.  They brought me for supper a roast fowl,
rice, and hard eggs, and for dessert, oranges and tamarind-pods; the
latter contain a brown, half sweet, half sour pulp, very agreeable to
the taste.  The women lay all round me, and by degrees we managed
to get on wonderfully together.

I showed them the different flowers and insects I had gathered during
the day.  This, doubtless, induced them to look upon me as a learned
person, and, as such, to impute to me a knowledge of medicine. 
They begged me to prescribe for different cases of illness: bad ears,
eruptions of the skin, and in the children, a considerable tendency
to scrofula, etc.  I ordered lukewarm baths, frequent fomentations,
and the use of oil and soap, applied externally and rubbed into the
body.  May Heaven grant that these remedies have really worked
some good!

On the 11th of October, I proceeded into the forest, in company with
a negress and a Puri, to find out the Indians.  At times, we had
to work our way laboriously through the thicket, and then again we would
find narrow paths, by which we pursued our journey with greater ease. 
After eight hours’ walking, we came upon a number of Puris, who
led us into their huts, situated in the immediate vicinity, where I
beheld a picture of the greatest misery and want: I had often met with
a great deal of wretchedness in my travels, but never so much as I saw
here!

On a small space, under lofty trees, five huts, or rather sheds,
formed of leaves, were erected, eighteen feet long, by twelve feet broad. 
The frames were formed of four poles stuck in the ground, with another
reaching across; and the roof, of palm-leaves, through which the rain
could penetrate with the utmost facility.  On three sides, these
bowers were entirely open.  In the interior hung a hammock or two;
and on the ground glimmered a little fire, under a heap of ashes, in
which a few roots, Indian corn, and bananas, were roasting.  In
one corner, under the roof, a small supply of provisions was hoarded
up, and a few gourds were scattered around: these are used by the savages
instead of plates, pots, water-jugs, etc.  The long bows and arrows,
which constitute their only weapons, were leaning in the background
against the wall.

I found the Indians still more ugly than the negroes.  Their
complexion is a light bronze, stunted in stature, well-knit, and about
the middle size.  They have broad and somewhat compressed features,
and thick, coal-black hair, hanging straight down, which the women sometimes
wear in plaits fastened to the back of the head, and sometimes falling
down loose about them.  Their forehead is broad and low, the nose
somewhat flattened, the eyes long and narrow, almost like those of the
Chinese, and the mouth large, with rather thick lips.  To give
a still greater effect to all these various charms, a peculiar look
of stupidity is spread over the whole face, and is more especially to
be attributed to the way in which their mouths are always kept opened.

Most of them, both men and women, were tattooed with a reddish or
blue colour, though only round the mouth, in the form of a moustache. 
Both sexes are passionately fond of smoking, and prefer brandy to everything. 
Their dress was composed of a few rags, which they had fastened round
their loins.

I had already heard, in Novo Friburgo, a few interesting particulars
concerning the Puris, which I will here relate.

The number of the Brazilian Indians at the present time is calculated
at about 500,000, who live scattered about the forests in the heart
of the country.  Not more than six or seven families ever settle
on the same spot, which they leave as soon as the game in the neighbourhood
has been killed, and all the fruit and roots consumed.  A large
number of these Indians have been christened.  They are always
ready, for a little brandy or tobacco, to undergo the ceremony at the
shortest notice, and only regret that it cannot be repeated more frequently,
as it is soon over.  The priest believes that he has only to perform
the rite in order to gain another soul for heaven, and afterwards gives
himself very little concern, either about the instruction or the manners
and morals of his converts.  These, it is true, are called Christians,
or tamed savages, but live in the same heathen manner that they
previously did.  Thus, for instance, they contract marriages for
indefinite periods; elect their Caciques (chiefs) from the strongest
and finest men; follow all their old customs on the occasion of marriages
and deaths, just the same as before baptism.

Their language is very poor: they are said, for example, only to
be able to count one and two, and are therefore obliged, when they desire
to express a larger number, to repeat these two figures continually. 
Furthermore, for today, to-morrow, and yesterday, they
possess only the word day, and express their more particular
meaning by signs; for today, they say day, and feel their
head, or point upwards; for to-morrow, they again use the word
day, and point their fingers in a straightforward direction;
and for yesterday, they use the same word, and point behind them.

The Puris are said to be peculiarly adapted for tracking runaway
negroes, as their organs of smell are very highly developed.  They
smell the trace of the fugitive on the leaves of the trees; and if the
negro does not succeed in reaching some stream, in which he can either
walk or swim for a considerable distance, it is asserted that he can
very seldom escape the Indian engaged in pursuit of him.  These
savages are also readily employed in felling timber, and cultivating
Indian corn, manioc, etc., as they are very industrious, and think themselves
well paid with a little tobacco, brandy, or coloured cloth.  But
on no account must they be compelled to do anything by force: they are
free men.  They seldom, however, come to offer their assistance
unless they are half-starved.

I visited the huts of all these savages; and as my guides had trumpeted
forth my praises as being a woman of great knowledge, I was here asked
my advice for the benefit of every one who was ill.

In one of the huts, I found an old woman groaning in her hammock. 
On my drawing nearer, they uncovered the poor creature, and I perceived
that all her breast was eaten up by cancer.  She seemed to have
no idea of a bandage, or any means of soothing the pain.  I advised
her to wash the wound frequently with a decoction of mallows, {50}
and, in addition to this, to cover it over with the leaves of the same
plant.  I only trust that my advice procured her some trifling
relief.

This horrible disease unfortunately does not appear to be at all
rare among the Puris, for I saw many of their women, some of whom had
large hard swellings, and others even small tumours on the breast.

After having sufficiently examined everything in the huts, I went
with some of the savages to shoot parrots and monkeys.  We had
not far to go in order to meet with both; and I had now an opportunity
of admiring the skill with which these people use their bows. 
They brought down the birds even when they were on the wing, and very
seldom missed their mark.  After shooting three parrots and an
ape, we returned to the huts.

The good creatures offered me the best hut they possessed, and invited
me to pass the night there.  Being rather fatigued by the toilsome
nature of my journey on foot, the heat, and the hunting excursion, I
very joyfully accepted their proposition: the day, too, was drawing
to a close, and I should not have been able to reach the settlement
of the whites before night.  I therefore spread out my cloak upon
the ground, arranged a log of wood so as to serve instead of a pillow,
and for the present seated myself upon my splendid couch.  In the
meanwhile, my hosts were preparing the monkey and the parrots, by sticking
them on wooden spits, and roasting them before the fire.  In order
to render the meal a peculiarly dainty one, they also buried some Indian
corn and roots in the cinders.  They then gathered a few large
fresh leaves off the trees, tore the roasted ape into several pieces
with their hands, and placing a large portion of it, as well as a parrot,
Indian corn, and some roots upon the leaves, put it before me. 
My appetite was tremendous, seeing that I had tasted nothing since the
morning.  I therefore immediately fell to on the roasted monkey,
which I found superlatively delicious: the flesh of the parrot was far
from being so tender and palatable.

After our meal, I begged the Indians to perform one of their dances
for me—a request with which they readily complied.  As it
was already dark, they brought a quantity of wood, which they formed
into a sort of funeral pile, and set on fire: the men then formed a
circle all round, and began the dance.  They threw their bodies
from side to side in a most remarkably awkward fashion, but always moving
the head forwards in a straight line.  The women then joined in,
remaining, however, at some little distance in the rear of the men,
and making the same awkward movements.  They now began a most horrible
noise, which was intended for a song, at the same time distorting their
features in a frightful manner.  One of them stood near, playing
upon a kind of stringed instrument, made out of the stem of a cabbage-palm,
and about two feet, or two feet and a half, in length.  A hole
was cut in it in a slanting direction, and six fibres of the stem had
been raised up, and kept in an elevated position at each end, by means
of a small bridge.  The fingers were then used for playing upon
these as upon a guitar: the tone was very low, disagreeable, and hoarse.

This first dance they named the Dance of Peace or Joy.  The
men then performed a much wilder one alone.  After providing themselves
for the purpose with bows, arrows, and stout clubs, they again formed
a circle, but their movements were much quicker and wilder than in the
first instance, and they likewise hit about them with their clubs in
a horrible fashion.  They then suddenly broke their rank, strung
their bows, placed their arrows ready, and went through the pantomime
of shooting after a flying foe, uttering at the same time the most piercing
cries, which echoed through the whole forest.  I started up in
affright, for I really believed that I was surrounded by enemies, and
that I was delivered up into their power, without any chance of help
or assistance.  I was heartily glad when this horrible war-dance
came to a conclusion.

After retiring to rest, and when all around had gradually become
hushed into silence, I was assailed by apprehensions of another description:
I thought of the number of wild beasts, and the horrible serpents that
might perhaps be concealed quite close to me, and then of the exposed
situation I was in.  This kept me awake a long time, and I often
fancied I heard a rustling among the leaves, as if one of the dreaded
animals were breaking through.  At length, however, my weary body
asserted its rights.  I laid my head upon my wooden pillow, and
consoled myself with the idea that the danger was, after all, not so
great as many of we travellers wish to have believed, otherwise how
would it be possible for the savages to live as they do, without any
precautions, in their open huts!

On the 12th of October, early in the morning, I took leave of the
savages, and made them a present of various bronze ornaments, with which
they were so delighted that they offered me everything they possessed. 
I took a bow with a couple of arrows, as mementos of my visit; returned
to the wooden house, and having also distributed similar presents there,
mounted my mule, and arrived late in the evening at Aldea do Pedro.

On the morning of the 13th of October, I bade the obliging priest
farewell, and with my attendant, who, by this time was quite recovered,
began my journey back to Novo Friburgo, and, in this instance, although
I pursued the same road, was only three days instead of four on the
way.

On arriving I found Count Berchthold, who was now quite well. 
We determined, therefore, before returning to Rio Janeiro, to make a
little excursion to a fine waterfall, about twelve miles from Novo Friburgo. 
By mere chance we learned that the christening of the Princess Isabella
would take place on the 19th, and, as we did not wish to miss this interesting
ceremony, we preferred returning directly.  We followed the same
road we had taken in coming, till about four miles before reaching Ponte
de Pinheiro, and then struck off towards Porto de Praja.  This
road was thirty-two miles longer by land, but so much shorter by sea,
that the passage is made by steamer from Porto de Praja to Rio Janeiro
in half an hour.  The scenery around Pinheiro was mostly dull and
tedious, almost like a desert, the monotony of which was only broken
here and there by a few scanty woods or low hills.  We were not
lucky enough to see the mountains again until we were near the capital.

I must here mention a comical mistake of Herr Beske, of Novo Friburgo,
which we at first could not understand, but which afterwards afforded
a good deal of amusement.  Herr Beske had recommended us a guide,
whom he described as a walking encyclopædia of knowledge, and
able to answer all our questions about trees, plants, scenery, etc.,
in the most complete manner.  We esteemed ourselves exceedingly
fortunate to obtain such a phœnix of a guide, and immediately
took advantage of every opportunity to put his powers to the test. 
He could, however, tell us nothing at all; if we asked him the name
of a river, he replied that it was too small, and had no name. 
The trees, likewise, were too insignificant, the plants too common. 
This ignorance was rather too much; we made inquiry, and found that
Herr Beske had not intended to send us the guide we had, but his brother,
who, however, had died six months previously—a circumstance which
Herr Beske must have forgotten.

On the evening of the 18th of October, we arrived safely in Rio Janeiro. 
We immediately inquired about the christening, and heard it had been
put off till the 15th of November, and that on the 19th of October only
the Emperor’s anniversary would be kept.  We had thus hurried
back to no purpose, without visiting the waterfall near Novo Friburgo,
which we might have admired very much at our leisure.

On our return we only came eight miles out of our way.

CHAPTER V.  THE VOYAGE ROUND CAPE HORN.

DEPARTURE FROM RIO JANEIRO—SANTOS AND ST. PAULO—CIRCUMNAVIGATION
OF CAPE HORN—THE STRAITS OF MAGELLAN—ARRIVAL IN VALPARAISO—8TH
DECEMBER, 1846, TO 2ND MARCH, 1847.

When I paid £25 for my place in the fine English barque, “John
Renwick,” Captain Bell, the latter promised me that he would be
ready to sail on the 25th of November at the latest, and would stop
at no intermediate port, but shape his course direct to Valparaiso. 
The first part of this promise I believed, because he assured me that
every day he stopped cost him £7; and the second, because, as
a general rule, I willingly believe every one, even ship captains. 
In both particulars, however, was I deceived; for it was not until the
8th of December that I received a notice to go on board that evening
and then for the first time the captain informed me that he must run
into Santos, to lay in a stock of provisions, which were there much
cheaper than in Rio Janeiro; that he also intended clearing out a cargo
of coal and taking in another of sugar.  He did not tell me till
we arrived in Santos itself, where he also assured me that all these
different matters would not take him more than three or four days.

I took leave of my friends and went on board in the evening; Count
Berchthold and Messrs. Geiger and Rister accompanying me to the ship.

Early in the morning of the 9th of December we weighed anchor, but
the wind was so unfavourable that we were obliged to tack the whole
day in order to gain the open sea, and it was not until about 10 A.M.
that we lost sight of land.

There were eight passengers besides myself; five Frenchmen, one Belgian,
and two citizens of Milan.  I looked upon the latter as half countrymen
of mine, and we were soon very good friends.

It was the second time this year that the two Italians were making
the voyage round Cape Horn.  Their first had not been fortunate;
they reached Cape Horn in winter, which in those cold southern latitudes
lasts from April till about November. {53} 
They were unable to circumnavigate the Cape, being driven back by violent
contrary winds and storms, against which they strove for fourteen weary
days without making the least progress.  The crew now lost courage,
and affirmed that it would be advisable to turn back and wait for more
favourable winds.  The captain, however, was not of this opinion,
and succeeded so well in working upon the pride of the crew that they
once more engaged in their conflict with the elements.  It was,
however, for the last time, for the very same night a tremendous sea
broke over the ship, tearing away all her upper works, and sweeping
the captain and six of the sailors overboard.  The water poured
in torrents into the cabins, and drove every one from the berths. 
The bulwarks, boats, and binnacle were carried clean off, and the mainmast
had to be cut away.  The sailors then turned the ship about, and
after a long and dangerous voyage, succeeded in bringing her, dismasted
as she was, into Rio Janeiro.

This story was not very encouraging, but the fine weather and our
good ship relieved us of all anxiety.  With regard to the vessel,
we could not have chosen a better.  It had large, comfortable cabins,
an exceedingly good-natured and obliging captain, and a bill of fare
which must have contented the most dainty palate.  Every day we
had roast or stewed fowls, ducks, or geese, fresh mutton or pork, eggs
variously prepared, plum-pudding and tarts; to all this were added side
dishes of ham, rice, potatoes, and other vegetables; and for dessert,
dried fruit, nuts, almonds, cheese, etc.  There was also plenty
of bread, fresh baked every day, and good wine.  We all unanimously
acknowledged that we had never been so well treated, or had so good
a table in any sailing vessel before; and we could, therefore, in this
respect, look forward to our voyage without any apprehension.

On the 12th of December we hove in sight of the mountain ranges of
Santos, and at 9 o’clock the same evening we reached a bay which
the captain took for that of the same name.  Lighted torches were
repeatedly held over the vessel’s side to summon a pilot; no pilot,
however, made his appearance, and we were therefore obliged to trust
to chance, and anchor at the mouth of the bay.

On the morning of the 13th a pilot came on board, and astonished
us with the intelligence that we had anchored before the wrong bay. 
We had some trouble in working our way out, and anchoring about noon
in the right one.  A pretty little chateau-like building immediately
attracted our attention.  We took it for some advanced building
of the town, and congratulated one another on having reached our temporary
destination so quickly.  On approaching nearer, however, we could
perceive no signs of the town, and learned that the building was a small
fort, and that Santos was situated in a second bay, communicating with
the first by a small arm of the sea.  Unluckily, the wind had by
this time fallen, and we were obliged to be at anchor all day, and it
was not until the 14th that a slight breeze sprang up and wafted us
into port.

Santos is most charmingly situated at the entrance of a large valley. 
Picturesque hills, adorned with chapels and detached houses, rise on
each side, and immediately beyond are considerable mountain ranges,
spreading in a semi-circle round the valley, while a lovely island forms
a most beautiful foreground to the whole.

We had scarcely landed before the captain informed us that we must
stop for at least five days.  The Italians, one of the Frenchmen,
and myself determined that we would take advantage of this delay to
make an excursion to St. Paulo, the largest inland town of the Brazils,
and about forty miles from Santos.  The same evening we hired mules,
for which we paid five milreis (10s. 10d.) each, and set out upon our
trip.

15th December.  Early in the morning, we armed ourselves with
well-charged double-barrelled pistols, having been alarmed by accounts
of the Maroon negroes, {55}
about a hundred of whom were said to be at that time lurking in the
mountains, and to be so daring that they extended their inroads as far
as the vicinity of Santos itself.

The first eight miles led through the valley to the lofty range of
mountains which we had to cross.  The road was good, and more frequented
than any I had yet seen in the Brazils.  Handsome wooden bridges
traverse the rivers Vicente and Cubatao; one of these bridges is actually
covered, but then every one is charged a pretty high toll.

In one of the vendas at the foot of the mountain we fortified ourselves
with some excellent pan-cakes, laid in a stock of sugar-canes, the juice
of which is excessively refreshing in the great heat, and then proceeded
to scale the Serra, 3,400 feet high.  The road was execrable; full
of holes, pits, and puddles, in which our poor beasts often sank above
their knees.  We had to skirt chasms and ravines, with torrents
rolling loudly beneath, yet not visible to us, on account of the thick
underwood which grew over them.  Some part of the way, too, lay
through virgin forests, which, however, were not nearly so beautiful
or thick as some I had traversed on my excursion to the Puris. 
There were hardly any palm-trees, and the few there were, reminded us,
from their thin stems and scanty foliage, of those of a colder climate.

The prospect from the Serra struck us all with astonishment. 
The entire valley with its woods and prairies was spread far and wide
before our sight as far as the bays, the little detached huts being
quite indistinguishable, while only a part of the town and a few masts
of ships were perceptible in the distance.

A turning in the road soon shut out this charming picture from our
gaze; we then left the Serra and entered upon a woody, uneven tract,
alternating with large level grass-plots, covered with low brushwood,
and innumerable mole-hills, two feet high.

Half way from Santos to St. Paulo is a place called Rio Grande, the
houses of which lie, after the Brazilian fashion, so far apart, that
no one would suppose they had any connection with each other. 
The owner of the mules used on this journey resides here, and here,
likewise, the money for their hire is paid.  If the traveller desires
to proceed immediately he has fresh mules given him, but, should he
prefer stopping the afternoon or night, he finds very good victual and
clean rooms, for which he has nothing to pay, as they are included in
the five milreis (10s. 10d.), charged for the mules.

We snatched a hasty morsel or two, and then hurried on, in order
to complete the second half of the road before sunset.  The plain
became broader and broader the nearer we approached the town; the beauty
of the scenery falls off very much, and for the first time since I left
Europe, did I see fields and hills of sand.  The town itself, situated
upon a hill, presents a tolerable appearance; it contains about 22,000
inhabitants, and is a place of considerable importance for the internal
commerce of the country.  In spite of this, however, it has neither
an inn nor any other place where strangers can alight.

After inquiring for a long time in vain for lodgings, we were directed
to a German and a Frenchman, with the remark that both received lodgers
out of pure politeness.  We first went to the German, who very
bluntly cut us short by saying that he had no room.  From him we
proceeded to the Frenchman, who sent us to a Portuguese, and on visiting
the latter we received the same answer we had obtained from the German.

We were now greatly embarrassed; the more so, because the wearisome
nature of our journey had so fatigued the Frenchman that he was hardly
able any longer to sit upright in his saddle.

In this critical position I thought of the letter of recommendation
that Herr Geiger had given me in Rio Janeiro, for a German gentleman
of the name of Loskiel, who had settled here.  I had intended not
to deliver this letter until the next day, but “necessity knows
no law,” and so I paid my visit the same evening.

He was kind enough to interest himself for us in the warmest manner
imaginable.  He gave one of the gentlemen and myself lodgings in
his own house, and our two companions in that of a neighbour of his,
inviting all of us to dine at his table.  We now learned that in
St. Paulo no one, not even an hotel-keeper, will receive a stranger
if he be not provided with a letter of recommendation.  It is certainly
a lucky thing for travellers that this strange custom is not prevalent
everywhere.

16th December.  After having completely recovered ourselves
from the fatigues of our yesterday’s ride, our first thought was
to view the curiosities of the town.  We asked our hospitable host
for information on this point, but he merely shrugged his shoulders,
and said, that he knew of no curiosities, unless, indeed, we chose to
look upon the Botanical Garden in the light of one.

We went out, therefore, after breakfast, and first of all viewed
the town: where we found that the number of large and well-built houses
was, in comparison to the size of the two places, greater than in Rio
Janeiro, although even here, there was nothing like taste or peculiar
architectural style.  The streets are tolerably wide, but present
an extraordinarily deserted appearance, the universal silence being
broken only by the insupportable creaking of the country people’s
carts.  These carts rest upon two wheels, or rather two wooden
disks, which are often not even hooped with iron to keep them together. 
The axle, which is likewise of wood, is never greased, and thus causes
the demoniacal kind of music to which I alluded.

A peculiarity of dress, very remarkable in this hot climate, is here
prevalent: all the men, with the exception of the slaves, wear large
cloth cloaks, one half of which they throw over their shoulder; I even
saw a great many women enveloped in long, broad cloth capes.

In St. Paulo there is a High School.  Those who study there,
and come from the country or the smaller towns, are exposed to the inconvenience
of being refused lodgings under any one’s roof.  They are
obliged to hire and furnish houses for themselves, and be their own
housekeepers.

We visited several churches which possess very little worth looking
at, either inside or out, and then concluded by proceeding to the Botanical
Garden, which also contains no object of any interest, with the exception
of a plantation of Chinese teas.

All our sight-seeing did not occupy us more than a few hours, and
we could very conveniently have begun our journey back to Santos the
next morning; but the Frenchman, who, on account of the great fatigue
he had suffered, had not accompanied us in our walk, begged us to put
off our return for half a day longer, and to arrange it in such a manner,
that we should pass the night in Rio Grande.  We willingly acceded
to his wish, and set out upon the afternoon of the 17th, after thanking
our kind host most cordially for his hospitable entertainment. 
In Rio Grande we found an excellent supper, convenient sleeping apartments,
and a good breakfast the next morning.  About 12 o’clock
on the 18th of December, we arrived safely in Santos, and the Frenchman
then confessed to us he had felt so fatigued on arriving at St. Paulo,
from his long ride, that he was afraid of being seriously ill. 
However, he recovered himself completely in a few days, but assured
us, that it would be some time before he again accompanied us on one
of our trips.

The first question we put to the captain was: “When do you
weigh anchor?” to which he very politely replied, that as soon
as he had cleared out 200 tons of coal, and shipped 6,000 sacks of sugar,
he should be ready to set sail, and in consequence of this we had to
remain three whole weary weeks in Santos.

We were still in Santos when we celebrated New-Year’s Day,
1847, and at last, on the 2nd of January, were lucky enough to bid the
town adieu; but did not proceed far, for in the first bay the wind fell,
and did not spring up again till after midnight.  It was now Sunday,
and no true Englishman will set sail on a Sunday; we remained, therefore,
lying at anchor the whole of the 3rd of January, looking with very melancholy
feelings after two ships, whose captains, in spite of the holiness of
the day, had profited by the fresh breeze, and sailed gaily past us.

On the same evening we saw a vessel, which our captain affirmed was
a slaver, run into the bay.  It kept as far as possible from the
fort, and cast anchor at the most outward extremity of the bay. 
As the night was clear and moonlight we walked late upon deck, when,
true enough, we saw little boats laden with negroes pulling in shore. 
An officer, indeed, came from the fort to inquire into the doings of
this suspicious craft; but the owner seemed to afford him a satisfactory
account, for he left the ship, and the slaves continued during the whole
night to be quietly and undisturbedly smuggled in as before.

On the morning of the 4th of January, as we sailed past the vessel,
we beheld a great number of the poor creatures still standing upon the
deck.  Our captain inquired of the slave-dealer how many slaves
he had had on board, and we learned with astonishment that the number
amounted to 670.  Much has already been said and written upon this
horrible trade; it is everywhere execrated, and looked upon as a blot
on the human race, and yet it still continues to flourish.

This day promised to turn out a very melancholy one in many respects. 
We had hardly lost sight of the slaver before one of our own crew had
nearly committed suicide.  The steward, a young mulatto, had contracted
the bad habit of indulging too much in liquor.  The captain had
often threatened to punish him severely, but all to no purpose; and
this morning he was so intoxicated that the sailors were obliged to
lay him in a corner of the forecastle, where he might sleep himself
sober.  Suddenly, however, he leapt up, clambered on to the forepart
of the ship, and threw himself into the sea.  Luckily, it was almost
a calm, the water was quite still, and we had hopes of saving him. 
He soon reappeared at the side of the vessel, and ropes were thrown
him from every side.  The love of life was awakened in his breast,
and caused him to grasp involuntarily at the ropes, but he had not strength
enough to hold on.  He again sank, and it was only after great
exertion that the brave sailors succeeded in rescuing him from a watery
grave.  Hardly had he recovered his senses ere he endeavoured to
throw himself in again, exclaiming that he had no wish to live. 
The man was raving mad, and the captain was obliged to have him bound
hand and foot, and chained to the mast.  On the following day he
was deprived of his office, and degraded to the rank of subordinate
to a new steward.

5th January.  Mostly calms.  Our cook caught, today, a
fish three feet long, and remarkable for the manner in which it changed
colour.  When it came out of the water it was a bright yellow,
to which colour it owes its name of Dorado.  At the expiration
of one or two minutes the brilliant yellow changed into a light sky-blue,
and after its death its belly again turned to a beautiful light yellow,
but the back was a brownish green.  It is reckoned a great delicacy,
but, for my own part, I found its flesh rather dry.

On the 9th of January we were off the Rio Grande.  In the evening
everything seemed to promise a violent storm; the captain consulted
his barometer every second almost, and issued his orders according to
its indications.  Black clouds now began to drive towards us, and
the wind increased to such a pitch that the captain had all the hatchways
carefully fastened down, and the crew ready to reef the sails at a moment’s
notice.  At a little past 8, the hurricane broke forth.  Flash
after flash of lightning darted across the horizon from every side,
and lighted the sailors in their work; the agitated waves being illuminated
with the most dazzling brilliancy.  The majestic rolling of the
thunder drowned the captain’s voice, and the white foaming billows
broke with such terrific force over the deck, that it appeared as if
they would carry everything with them into the depths of the ocean. 
Unless there had been ropes stretched on each side of the ship for the
sailors to catch hold of, the latter would most certainly have been
washed away.  Such a storm as this affords much food for reflection. 
You are alone upon the boundless ocean, far from all human help, and
feel more than ever that your life depends upon the Almighty alone. 
The man who, in such a dreadful and solemn moment, can still believe
there is no God, must indeed be irretrievably struck with mental blindness. 
A feeling of tranquil joy always comes over me during such great convulsions
of Nature. I very often had myself bound near the binnacle, and let
the tremendous waves break over me, in order to absorb, as it were,
as much of the spectacle before me as possible; on no occasion did I
ever feel alarmed, but always confident and resigned.

At the expiration of four hours the storm had worn itself out, and
was succeeded by a perfect calm.

On the 10th of January we caught sight of several sea-turtles and
a whale.  The latter was only a young one, about forty feet long.

11th January.  We were now off the Rio Plata, {59}
and found the temperature very perceptibly cooler.

Up to the present time we had seen no signs of sea-tangle or molluscæ,
but during the night we beheld some molluscæ for the first time,
shining like stars at a great depth below the surface of the water.

In these latitudes the constellation of the southern cross keeps
increasing in brilliancy and beauty, though it is far from being as
wonderful as it is said to be.  The stars in it, four in number,
and disposed somewhat in the following manner, **** are, it is true,
large and splendid; but they did not excite, either in myself or any
other person of our company, much more admiration than the other constellations.

As a general rule, many travellers exaggerate a great deal. 
On the one hand, they often describe things which they have never seen
themselves, and only know from hearsay; and, on the other, they adorn
what they really have seen with a little too much imagination.

16th January.  In 37° South lat. we fell in with a strong
current, running from south to north, and having a yellow streak down
the middle of it.  The captain said that this streak was caused
by a shoal of small fishes.  I had some water drawn up in a bucket,
and really found a few dozen living creatures, which, in my opinion,
however, belonged rather to some species of molluscæ than to any
kind of fish.  They were about three-quarters of an inch long,
and as transparent as the most delicate water-bubbles; they were marked
with white and light yellow spots on the forepart of their bodies, and
had a few feelers underneath.

In the night of the 20th to 21st of January we were overtaken by
a very violent storm, which so damaged our mainmast that the captain
determined on running into some haven on the first opportunity, and
putting in a new one.  For the present the old one was made fast
with cables, iron chains, and braces.

In 43° North lat. we saw the first sea-tangle.  The temperature
had by this time very perceptibly decreased in warmth, the glass often
standing no higher than 59° or 63° Fah.

23rd January.  We were so near Patagonia that we could distinctly
make out the outline of the coast.

26th January.  We still kept near the land.  In 50°
South lat. we saw the chalky mountains of Patagonia.  Today we
passed the Falkland Islands, which stretched from 51° to 52°
South lat.  We did not see them, however, as we kept as near the
land as possible, in order not to miss the Straits of Magellan. 
For some days the captain had been studying an English book, which,
in his opinion, clearly proved that the passage through the Straits
of Magellan was far less dangerous and far shorter than that round Cape
Horn.  I asked him how it happened that other sailors knew nothing
of this valuable book, and why all vessels bound for the western coast
of America went round Cape Horn?  He could give me no other answer
than that the book was very dear, and that that was the reason no one
bought it. {60}

To me this bold idea of the captain’s was extremely welcome. 
I already pictured in my mind the six-feet tall Patagonians putting
off to us in their boats; I saw myself taking their mussels, plants,
ornaments, and weapons in exchange for coloured ribbons and handkerchiefs;
while, to render my satisfaction complete, the captain said that he
should land at Port Famine (a Patagonian haven) to supply the injured
portion of our mainmast.  How thankful was I, in secret, to the
storm for having reduced our ship to her present condition.

Too soon, however, were all my flattering hopes and dreams dispelled. 
On the 27th of January the latitude and longitude were taken, and it
was then found that the Straits of Magellan were twenty-seven minutes
(or nautical miles) behind us, but as we were becalmed, the captain
promised, in case a favourable wind should spring up, to endeavour to
return as far as the Straits.

I placed no more confidence in this promise, and I was right. 
About noon a scarcely perceptible breeze sprang up, which the captain,
in high spirits, pronounced a favourable one—for rounding Cape
Horn.  If he had ever really intended to pass through the Straits,
he would only have had to cruise about for a few hours, for the wind
soon changed and blew directly in the desired direction.

28th January.  We were constantly so near Terra del Fuego that
we could make out every bush with the naked eye.  We could have
reached the land in an hour, without retarding our voyage in the least,
for we were frequently becalmed; but the captain would not consent,
as the wind might spring up every instant.

The coast appeared rather steep, but not high; the foreground was
composed of meagre pasture alternating with tracts of sand, and in the
background were ranges of woody hills, beyond which rose snow-covered
mountains.  On the whole, the country struck me as being much more
inhabitable than the Island of Iceland, which I had visited a year and
a half previously.  The temperature, too, must here be higher,
as even at sea we had 54° 5’ and 59° Fah.

I saw three kinds of sea-tangle, but could only obtain a specimen
of one, resembling that which I had seen in 44° South lat. 
The second kind was not very different, and it was only the third that
had pointed leaves, several of which together formed a sort of fan several
feet long and broad.

On the 30th of January we passed very near the Staten Islands, lying
between 56° and 57° South lat.  They are composed of bare
high mountains, and separated from Terra del Fuego by an arm of the
sea, called Le Maire, only seven miles long and about the same distance
across.

The captain told us, seaman-like, that on one occasion of his sailing
through these Straits, his ship had got into a strong current, and regularly
danced, turning round during the passage at least a thousand times! 
I had already lost a great deal of confidence in the captain’s
tales, but I kept my eye steadily fixed upon a Hamburgh brig, that happened
to be sailing ahead, to see whether she would dance; but neither she
nor our own bark was so obliging.  Neither vessels turned even
once, and the only circumstance worthy of remark was the heaving and
foaming of the waves in the Strait, while at both ends the sea lay majestically
calm before our eyes.  We had passed the Strait in an hour, and
I took the liberty of asking the captain why our ship had not danced,
to which he replied that it was because we had had both wind and current
with us.  It is, perhaps, possible that under other circumstances
the vessel might have turned round once or twice, but I strongly doubt
its doing so a thousand times.  This was, however, a favourite
number with our worthy captain.  One of the gentlemen once asked
him some question about the first London hotels, and was told that it
was impossible to remember their names, as there were above a thousand
of the first class.

Near the Strait Le Maire begins, in the opinion of seamen, the dangerous
part of the passage round Cape Horn, and ends off the Straits of Magellan. 
Immediately we entered it we were greeted with two most violent bursts
of wind, each of which lasted about half an hour; they came from the
neighbouring icy chasms in the mountains of Terra del Fuego, and split
two sails, and broke the great studding sail-yard, although the sailors
were numerous and quick.  The distance from the end of the Strait
Le Maire to the extreme point of the Cape is calculated to be not more
than seventy miles, and yet this trifling passage cost us three days.

At last, on the 3rd of February, we were fortunate enough to reach
the southernmost point of America, so dreaded by all mariners. 
Bare, pointed mountains, one of which looks like a crater that has fallen
in, form the extremity of the mighty mountain-chain, and a magnificent
group of colossal black rocks (basalt?), of all shapes and sizes, are
scattered at some distance in advance, and are separated only by a small
arm of the sea.  The extreme point of Cape Horn is 600 feet high. 
At this spot, according to our works on geography, the Atlantic Ocean
changes its name and assumes that of the Pacific.  Sailors, however,
do not give it the latter designation before reaching the Straits of
Magellan, as up to this point the sea is continually stormy and agitated,
as we learned to our cost, being driven by violent storms as far back
as 60° South lat.  Besides this, we lost our top-mast, which
was broken off, and which, in spite of the heavy sea, had to be replaced;
the vessel, meanwhile, being so tossed about, that we were often unable
to take our meals at the table, but were obliged to squat down upon
the ground, and hold our plates in our hands.  On one of these
fine days the steward stumbled with the coffee-pot, and deluged me with
its burning contents.  Luckily, only a small portion fell upon
my hands, so that the accident was not a very serious one.

After battling for fourteen days with winds and waves, with rain
and cold, {62} we
at last arrived off the western entrance to the Straits of Magellan,
having accomplished the most dangerous portion of our voyage. 
During these fourteen days we saw very few whales or albatrosses, and
not one iceberg.

We thought that we should now quietly pursue our way upon the placid
sea, trusting confidently in its peaceful name.  For three whole
days we had nothing to complain of; but in the night of the 19th to
the 20th of February, we were overtaken by a storm worthy of the Atlantic
itself, which lasted for nearly twenty-four hours, and cost us four
sails.  We suffered most damage from the tremendous waves, which
broke with such fury over the ship, that they tore up one of the planks
of the deck, and let the water into the cargo of sugar.  The deck
itself was like a lake, and the portholes had to be opened in order
to get rid of the water more quickly.  The water leaked in the
hold at the rate of two inches an hour.  We could not light any
fire, and were obliged to content ourselves with bread and cheese and
raw ham, which we with great difficulty conveyed to our mouth as we
sat upon the ground.

The last cask of lamp oil, too, fell a sacrifice to this storm, having
been torn from its fastenings, and broken into pieces.  The captain
was very apprehensive of not having enough oil to light the compass
till we arrived at Valparaiso; and all the lamps on the ship were, in
consequence, replaced by candles, and the small quantity of oil remaining
kept for the compass.  In spite of all these annoyances, we kept
up our spirits, and even, during the storm, we could scarcely refrain
from laughing at the comical positions we all fell into whenever we
attempted to stand up.

The remainder of the voyage to Valparaiso was calm, but excessively
disagreeable.  The captain wished to present a magnificent appearance
on arriving, so that the good people might believe that wind and waves
could not injure his fine vessel.  He had the whole ship painted
from top to bottom with oil colours; even the little doors in the cabins
were not spared this infliction.  Not content with creating a most
horrible disturbance over our heads, the carpenter invaded even our
cabins, filling all our things with sawdust and dirt, so that we poor
passengers had not a dry or quiet place of refuge in the whole ship. 
Just as much as we had been pleased with Captain Bell’s politeness
during all the previous part of the voyage, were we indignant at his
behaviour during the last five or six days.  But we could offer
no resistance, for the captain is an autocrat on board his own ship,
knowing neither a constitution nor any other limit to his despotic power.

At 6 o’clock in the morning of the 2nd of March, we ran into
the port of Valparaiso.

CHAPTER VI.  ARRIVAL AND RESIDENCE IN VALPARAISO.

APPEARANCE OF THE TOWN—PUBLIC BUILDINGS—A FEW OBSERVATIONS
ON THE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE LOWER CLASSES—THE EATING-HOUSES
OF POLANEA—THE CHERUB (ANGELITO)—THE RAILROAD—GOLD
AND SILVER MINES.

The appearance of Valparaiso is dull and monotonous.  The town
is laid out in two long streets at the foot of dreary hills, which look
like gigantic masses of sand, but which really consist of large rocks
covered with thin layers of earth and sand.  On some of these hills
are houses, and on one of them is the churchyard, which, combined with
the wooden church towers, built in the Spanish style, relieves, in a
slight degree, the wearisome uniformity of the prospect.  Not less
astounding than the deserted look of the port, was the miserably wretched
landing-place, which is composed of a high wooden quay, about 100 feet
long, stretching out into the sea, with narrow steps, like ladders,
against the side.  It was a most pitiable sight to see a lady attempting
to go up or down: all persons who were in the least weak or awkward,
had to be let down with ropes.

The two principal streets are tolerably broad, and very much frequented,
especially by horsemen.  Every Chilian is born a horseman; and
some of their horses are such fine animals, that you involuntarily stop
to admire their proud action, their noble bearing, and the nice symmetry
of their limbs.

The stirrups are curiously formed, consisting of long, heavy pieces
of wood, hollowed out, and into which the rider places the tips of his
feet.  The spurs are remarkably large, and are often about four
inches in diameter.

The houses are constructed completely in the European style, with
flat Italian roofs.  The more ancient buildings have only a ground
floor, and are small and ugly, while most of the modern ones have a
spacious and handsome first floor.  The interior, too, of the latter
is generally very tasty.  Large steps conduct into a lofty well-ventilated
entrance-hall on the first floor, from which the visitor passes, through
large glass doors, into the drawing-room and other apartments. 
The drawing-room is the pride, not only of every European who has settled
in the country, but also of the Chilians, who often spend very large
sums in the decorations.  Heavy carpets cover all the floor; rich
tapestry hangs against the walls; furniture and mirrors of the most
costly description are procured from Europe; and on the tables are strewed
magnificent albums, adorned with the most artistic engravings. 
The elegant fire-places, however, convinced me that the winters here
are not as mild as the inhabitants would fain have had me believe.

Of all the public buildings, the Theatre and the Exchange are the
finest.  The interior of the former is very neat, and contains
a roomy pit and two galleries, portioned off as boxes.  The inhabitants
of the town patronise the theatre a great deal, but not so much on account
of the Italian operas played there, as for the sake of possessing a
common place of meeting.  The ladies always come in full dress,
and mutual visits are made in the boxes, all of which are very spacious,
and beautifully furnished with mirrors, carpets, sofas, and chairs.

The second fine building, the Exchange, comprises a good-sized, cheerful
hall, with convenient rooms adjoining.  From the hall there is
a pleasant view over the town and sea.  The building belonging
to the “German Club” contains some fine apartments, with
reading and card rooms.

The only thing that pleased me about the churches were the towers,
which consist of two or three octagons, placed one above the other,
and each one supported by eight columns.  They are composed of
wood, the altars and pillars of the nave being of the same material. 
The nave itself presents rather a poor and naked appearance, occasioned
in a great degree by the absence of sittings.  The men stand, and
the women bring with them little carpets, which they spread before them,
and on which they either kneel or sit.  Ladies in easy circumstances
have their carpets brought by their maids.  The cathedral is called
La Matriza.

The public promenades of Valparaiso are not very pleasant, as most
of the side-walks and roads are covered almost a foot deep with sand
and dust, which the slightest breath of wind is sufficient to raise
in thick clouds.  After 10 o’clock in the morning, when the
sea-breeze begins blowing, the whole town is very often enveloped by
it.  A great many persons are said to die here from diseases of
the chest and lungs.  The most frequented places of resort are
Polanka and the lighthouse.  Near the latter, especially, the prospect
is very beautiful, extending, as it does, on a clear day, as far as
some of the majestic snow-covered spurs of the Andes.

The streets, as I have already mentioned, are tolerably lively: peculiar
omnibuses and cabriolets traverse them frequently.  The fare from
one end of the town to the other is one real (2½d.)  There
are also a great number of asses, mostly employed in carrying water
and provisions.

The lower classes are remarkably ugly.  The Chilians have a
yellowish brown complexion, thick black hair, most unpleasant features,
and such a peculiarly repulsive cast of countenance, that any physiognomist
would straightway pronounce them to be robbers or pickpockets at the
least.  Captain Bell had told me a great deal of the extraordinary
honesty of these people; and, in his usual exaggerated manner, assured
us that a person might leave a purse of gold lying in the street, with
the certainty of finding it the next day on the same spot; but, in spite
of this, I must frankly confess, that for my own part, I should be rather
fearful of meeting these honest creatures, even by day, in a lonely
spot, with the money in my pocket.

I had subsequently opportunities of convincing myself of the fallaciousness
of the captain’s opinion, for I often met with convicts, chained
together, and employed in the public buildings and cleaning the roads. 
The windows and doors, too, are secured with bolts and bars in a manner
almost unknown in any town of Europe.  At night, in all the streets,
and on all the hills which are inhabited, are parties of police, who
call out to one another in exactly the same manner that the advanced
posts do during a campaign.  Mounted patrols also traverse the
town in every direction, and persons returning alone from the theatre
or from a party, often engage their services to conduct them home. 
Burglariously entering a house is punished with death.  All these
precautions do not, most decidedly, argue much for the honesty of the
people.

I will take this opportunity of mentioning a scene, of which I was
myself an eye-witness, as it happened before my window.  A little
boy was carrying a number of plates and dishes on a board, when the
latter unluckily slipped from his grasp, and all the crockery lay in
fragments at his feet.  At first, the poor fellow was so frightened
that he stood like a column, gazing with a fixed look at the pieces,
and then began to cry most bitterly.  The passers-by stopped, it
is true, to look at the unfortunate child, but did not evince the least
compassion; they laughed, and went on.  In any other place, they
would have raised a little subscription, or at least pitied and consoled
him, but certainly would not have seen anything to laugh at.  The
circumstance is of itself a mere trifle, but it is exactly by such trifles
that we are often enabled to form a true estimate of people’s
real characters.

Another adventure, also, but of quite a different and most horrible
kind, happened during my stay in Valparaiso.

As I have already remarked, it is the custom here, as well as in
many countries of Europe, to sentence criminals to hard labour on public
works.  One of the convicts endeavoured to bribe his gaoler to
let him escape, and so far succeeded that the latter promised on his
paying an ounce (17 Spanish dollars—£3 8s.) to give him
an opportunity for flight.  The prisoners are allowed every morning
and afternoon to receive the visits of their friends and relations,
and likewise to accept provisions from them.  The wife of the convict
in question profited by this regulation to bring her husband the necessary
money; and on receiving this, the gaoler arranged matters so that on
the next morning the convict was not fastened to the same chain with
a fellow-criminal, as is usually the case, but could walk alone, and
thus easily get clear off, more especially as the spot in which they
worked was a very lonely one.

The whole affair was very cunningly arranged, but either the gaoler
changed his mind, or, perhaps, from the beginning had intended to act
as he did—he fired at the fugitive, and shot him dead.

It is very seldom that any pure descendants of the original inhabitants
are to be seen; we met with only two.  They struck me as very similar
to the Puris of Brazil, except that they have not such small ugly-shaped
eyes.  In this country there are no slaves.

The dress of the Chilians is quite in the European taste, especially
as regards the women.  The only difference with the men is that,
instead of a coat, they frequently wear the Poncho, which is composed
of two pieces of cloth or merino, each about one ell broad and two ells
long.  The two pieces are sewn together, with the exception of
an opening in the middle for the head to pass through; the whole garment
reaches down to the hips, and resembles a square cape.  The Poncho
is worn of all colours, green, blue, bright red, etc., and looks very
handsome, especially when embroidered all round with coloured silk,
which is the case when the wearer is opulent.  In the streets,
the women invariably wear large scarfs, which they draw over their heads
in church.

My intention, on coming to Chili, was to stop for a few weeks in
order to have time for an excursion to the capital, Santiago, and after
that to proceed to China, as I had been told in Rio Janeiro that there
was a ship from Valparaiso to China every month.  Unfortunately
this was not the case.  I found that vessels bound to that country
were very seldom to be met with, but that there happened to be one at
that moment, which would sail in five or six days.  I was generally
advised not to lose the opportunity, but rather to abandon my design
of visiting Santiago.  I reflected for a little, and agreed to
do so, although with a heavy heart; and in order to avoid all disappointment,
immediately went to the captain, who offered to take me for 200 Spanish
dollars (£40).  I agreed, and had five days left, which I
determined to spend in carefully examining Valparaiso and its environs. 
I should have had plenty of time to pay Santiago a flying visit, since
it is only 130 miles from Valparaiso, but the expenses would have been
very heavy, as there is no public conveyance, and consequently I should
have been obliged to hire a carriage for myself.  Besides this,
I should have derived but little satisfaction from the mere superficial
impressions which would have been all I could have obtained of either
town.

I contented myself, therefore, with Valparaiso alone.  I toiled
industriously up the surrounding hills and mountains, visited the huts
of the lower classes, witnessed their national dances, etc., determined
that here at least I would become acquainted with everything.

On some of the hills, especially on the Serra Allegri, there are
the most lovely country-houses, with elegant gardens, and a most beautiful
view over the sea.  The prospect inland is not so fine, as chains
of tall, naked, ugly mountains rise up behind the hills, and completely
shut in the scene.

The huts of the poor people are miserably bad, being mostly built
of clay and wood, and threatening to fall down every moment.  I
hardly ventured to enter them, thinking that the interior was of a piece
with the exterior, and was consequently astonished at seeing not only
good beds, chairs, and tables, but very often elegant little altars
adorned with flowers.  The inmates, too, were far from being badly
dressed, and the linen hung out before many of these hovels struck me
as superior to much that I had seen at the windows of some of the most
elegant houses situated in the principal streets of the towns of Sicily.

A very good idea of the manners and customs of the people may be
easily obtained by strolling, on Sundays and fête days,
near Polanka, and visiting the eating-houses.

I will introduce my reader to one of these places.  In one corner,
on the ground, burns a fierce fire, surrounded by innumerable pots and
pans, between which are wooden spits with beef and pork, simmering and
roasting in the most enticing manner.  An ungainly wooden framework,
with a long broad plank on it, occupies the middle of the room, and
is covered with a cloth whose original colour it would be an impossibility
to determine.  This is the table at which the guests sit. 
During the dinner itself the old patriarchal customs are observed, with
this difference, that not only do all the guests eat out of one dish,
but that all the eatables are served up in one, and one only. 
Beans and rice, potatoes and roast beef, Paradise apples and onions,
etc., etc., lie quietly side by side, and are devoured in the deepest
silence.  At the end of the repast, a goblet, filled with wine,
or sometimes merely water, is passed from hand to hand, and after this
had gone round, the company begin to talk.  In the evening dancing
is vigorously pursued to the music of a guitar; unfortunately, it was
Lent during my visit, when all public amusements are prohibited. 
The people themselves, however, were not so particular, and were only
too ready, for a few reaux, to go through the Sammaquecca and Refolosa—the
national dances of the country.  I had soon seen sufficient; the
gestures and movements of the dancers were beyond all description unbecoming,
and I could but pity the children, whose natural modesty cannot fail
to be nipped in the bud by witnessing the performance of these dances.

I was equally displeased with a remarkable custom prevalent here,
in accordance with which the death of a little child is celebrated by
its parents as a grand festival.  They name the deceased child
an angelito, (little angel), and adorn it in every possible way. 
Its eyes are not closed, but, on the contrary, opened as wide as possible,
and its cheeks are painted red; it is then dressed out in the finest
clothes, crowned with flowers, and placed in a little chair in a kind
of niche, which also is ornamented with flowers.  The relations
and neighbours then come and wish the parents joy at possessing such
an angel; and, during the first night, the parents, relations, and friends
execute the wildest dances, and feast in the most joyous fashion before
the angelito.  I heard that in the country it was not unusual for
the parents to carry the little coffin to the churchyard themselves,
followed by the relations with the brandy bottle in their hands, and
giving vent to their joy in the most outrageous manner.

A merchant told me that one of his friends, who holds a judicial
appointment, had, a short time previous, been called to decide a curious
case.  A grave-digger was carrying one of these deceased angels
to the churchyard, when he stept into a tavern to take a dram. 
The landlord inquired what he had got under his poncho, and on learning
that it was an angelito, offered him two reaux for it.  The gravedigger
consented; the landlord quickly arranged a niche with flowers in the
drinking-room, and then hastened to inform the whole neighbourhood what
a treasure he had got.  They all came, admired the little angel,
and drank and feasted in its honour.  But the parents also soon
heard of it, hurried down to the tavern, took away their child, and
had the landlord brought before the magistrate.  On hearing the
case, the latter could scarcely restrain from laughing, but arranged
the matter amicably, as such a crime was not mentioned in the statute
book.

The manner in which patients are conveyed to the hospital here is
very remarkable.  They are placed upon a simple wooden armchair,
with one band fastened in front of them to prevent their falling off,
and another beneath for them to place their feet on—a most horrible
sight when the sick person is so weak that he can no longer hold himself
in an upright posture.

I was not a little astonished on hearing that, in this country, where
there is yet no post, or, indeed, any regular means of conveyance from
one place to another, that a railroad was about being constructed from
here to Santiago.  The work has been undertaken by an English company,
and the necessary measurements already begun.  As the localities
are very mountainous, the railroad will have to make considerable windings,
in order to profit by the level tracts, and this will occasion an enormous
outlay, quite out of proportion to the present state of trade or the
amount of passenger traffic.  At present, there are not more than
two or three vehicles a day from one place to the other, and if by chance
ten or fifteen passengers come from Santiago to Valparaiso, the thing
is talked of over the whole town.  This has given rise to the belief
that the construction of a railroad has merely been seized on as an
excuse, in order to enable those concerned to search about the country
undisturbed for gold and silver.

Persons discovering mines are highly favoured, and have full right
of property to their discovery, being obliged merely to notify the same
to the government.  This licence is pushed to such an extent, that
if, for instance, a person can advance any plausible grounds for asserting
that he has found a mine in a particular spot, such as under a church
or house, etc., he is at liberty to have either pulled down, provided
he is rich enough to pay for the damage done.

About fifteen years ago, a donkey driver accidentally hit upon a
productive silver mine.  He was driving several asses over the
mountain, when one of them ran away.  He seized a stone, and was
about to throw it after the animal, but stumbled and fell to the ground,
while the stone escaped from his grasp, and rolled away.  Rising
in a great passion, he snatched a second from the earth, and had drawn
his arm to throw the stone, when he was struck by its uncommon weight. 
He looked at it more closely, and perceived that it was streaked with
rich veins of pure silver.  He preserved the stone as a treasure,
marked the spot, drove his asses home, and then communicated his important
discovery to one of his friends, who was a miner.  Both of them
then returned to the place, which the miner examined, and pronounced
the soil full of precious ore.  Nothing was now wanting save capital
to carry on their operations.  This they procured by taking the
miner’s employer into partnership, and in a few years all three
were rich men.

The six days had now elapsed, and the captain sent me a message to
be on board with my bag and baggage the next day, as he intended putting
out to sea in the evening; but on the morning of his intended departure,
my evil genius conducted a French man-of-war into the harbour. 
Little imagining that this was destined to overturn all my plans, I
proceeded very tranquilly to the landing-place, where I met the captain
hastening to meet me, with a long story about his half-cargo, and the
necessity he was under of completing his freight with provisions for
the use of the French garrison at Tahiti, and so forth: in a word, the
end of the matter was, that I was informed we should have to stop another
five days.

In the first burst of my disappointment, I paid a visit to the Sardinian
Consul, Herr Bayerbach, and told him of the position in which I was
placed.  He consoled me, in a most kind and gentlemanly manner,
as well as he could; and on learning that I had already taken up my
quarters on board, insisted on my occupying a chamber in his country-house
in the Serra Allegri.  Besides this, he introduced me to several
families, where I passed many very pleasant hours, and had the opportunity
of inspecting some excellent collections of mussel-shells and insects.

Our departure was again deferred from day to day; so that, although,
in this manner, I spent fifteen days in Chili, I saw nothing more of
it than Valparaiso and its immediate neighbourhood.

As Valparaiso is situated to the south of the Equator, and, as is
well known, the seasons of the southern hemisphere are exactly the contrary
of those of the northern, it was now autumn.  I saw (34° South
latitude) almost the same kinds of fruits and vegetables as those we
have in Germany, especially grapes and melons.  The apples and
pears were not so good nor so abundant as with us.

In conclusion, I will here give a list of the prices which travellers
have to pay for certain things:—

A room that is at all decent in a private house costs four or five
reaux (2s.) a day; the table d’hôte a piaster (4s.); but
washing is more expensive than anything else, on account of the great
scarcity of water, for every article, large or small, costs a real (6d.). 
A passport, too, is excessively dear, being charged eight Spanish dollars
(£1 12s.).

CHAPTER VII.  THE VOYAGE FROM VALPARAISO TO CANTON VIA TAHITI.

DEPARTURE FROM VALPARAISO—TAHITI—MANNERS AND CUSTOMS
OF THE PEOPLE—FÊTE AND BALL IN HONOUR OF LOUIS PHILIPPE—EXCURSIONS—A
TAHITIAN DINNER—THE LAKE VAIHIRIA—THE DEFILE OF FANTAUA
AND THE DIADEM—DEPARTURE—ARRIVAL IN CHINA.

On the 17th of March, Captain Van Wyk Jurianse sent me word that
his ship was ready for sea, and that he should set sail the next morning. 
The news was very unwelcome to me, as, for the last two days, I had
been suffering from English cholera, which on board ship, where the
patient cannot procure meat broth or any other light nourishment, and
where he is always more exposed to the sudden changes of the weather
than he is on shore, is very apt to be attended with grave results. 
I did not, however, wish to miss the opportunity of visiting China,
knowing how rarely it occurred, nor was I desirous of losing the two
hundred dollars (£40) already paid for my passage, and I therefore
went on board, trusting in my good luck, which had never forsaken me
on my travels.

During the first few days, I endeavoured to master my illness by
observing a strict diet, and abstaining from almost everything, but
to no purpose.  I still continued to suffer, until I luckily thought
of using salt-water baths.  I took them in a large tub, in which
I remained a quarter of an hour.  After the second bath, I felt
much better, and after the sixth, I was completely recovered. 
I merely mention this malady, to which I was very subject in warm climates,
that I may have the opportunity of remarking, that sea-baths or cooling
drinks, such as buttermilk, sour milk, sherbet, orangeade, etc., are
very efficacious remedies.

The ship in which I made my present voyage, was the Dutch barque
Lootpuit, a fine, strong vessel, quite remarkable for its cleanliness. 
The table was pretty good, too, with the exception of a few Dutch dishes,
and a superfluity of onions.  To these, which played a prominent
part in everything that was served up, I really could not accustom myself,
and felt greatly delighted that a large quantity of this noble production
of the vegetable kingdom became spoilt during the voyage.

The captain was a polite and kind man, and the mates and sailors
were also civil and obliging.  In fact, as a general rule, in every
ship that I embarked in, I was far from finding seamen so rough and
uncivil as travellers often represent them to be.  Their manners
are certainly not the most polished in the world, neither are they extraordinarily
attentive or delicate, but their hearts and dispositions are mostly
good.

After three days’ sailing, we saw, on the 21st March, the island
of St. Felix, and on the morning following, St. Ambrosio.  They
both consist of naked, inhospitable masses of rock, and serve at most
as resting places for a few gulls.

We were now within the tropics, but found the heat greatly moderated
by the trade wind, and only unbearable in the cabin.

For nearly a month did we now sail on, without the slightest interruption,
free from storms, with the same monotonous prospect of sky and water
before us, until, on the 19th of April, we reached the Archipelago of
the Society Islands.  This Archipelago, stretching from 130°
to 140° longitude, is very dangerous, as most of the islands composing
it scarcely rise above the surface of the water; in fact, to make out
David Clark’s Island, which was only twelve miles distant, the
captain was obliged to mount to the shrouds.

During the night of the 21st to the 22nd of April we were overtaken
by a sudden and violent storm, accompanied by heavy thunder; this storm
our captain termed a thunder-gust.  While it lasted flashes of
lightning frequently played around the mast-top, occasioned by electricity. 
They generally flutter for two or three minutes about the most elevated
point of any object, and then disappear.

The night of the 22nd to the 23rd of April was a very dangerous one;
even the captain said so.  We had to pass several of the low islands
in dark rainy weather, which completely concealed the moon from us. 
About midnight our position was rendered worse by the springing up of
a strong wind, which, together with incessant flashes of lightning,
caused us to expect another squall; luckily, however, morning broke,
and we escaped both the storm and the islands.

In the course of the day we passed the Bice Islands, and two days
later, on the 25th of April, we beheld one of the Society Islands, Maithia.

On the following morning, being the thirty-ninth of our voyage, we
came in sight of Tahiti, and the island opposite to it, Emao, also called
Moreo.  The entrance into Papeiti, the port of Tahiti, is exceedingly
dangerous; it is surrounded by reefs of coral as by a fortress, while
wild and foaming breakers, rolling on every side, leave but a small
place open through which a vessel can steer.

A pilot came out to meet us, and, although the wind was so unfavourable
that the sails had to be trimmed every instant, steered us safely into
port.  Afterwards, when we had landed, we were congratulated heartily
on our good fortune; every one had watched our course with the greatest
anxiety, and, at the last turn the ship took, expected to see her strike
upon a coral reef.  This misfortune had happened to a French man-of-war,
that at the period of our arrival had been lying at anchor for some
months, engaged in repairing the damage done.

Before we could come to an anchor we were surrounded by half-a-dozen
pirogues, or boats, manned by Indians, who climbed up from all sides
upon the deck to offer us fruit and shell-fish, but not as formerly
for red rags or glass beads—such golden times for travellers are
over.  They demanded money, and were as grasping and cunning in
their dealings as the most civilized Europeans.  I offered one
of them a small bronze ring; he took it, smelt it, shook his head, and
gave me to understand that it was not gold.  He remarked another
ring on my finger, and seizing hold of my hand, smelt this second ring
as well, then twisted his face into a friendly smile, and made signs
for me to give him the ornament in question.  I afterwards had
frequent opportunities of remarking that the natives of these islands
have the power of distinguishing between pure and counterfeit gold by
the smell.

Some years ago the island of Tahiti was under the protection of the
English, but at present it is under that of the French.  It had
long been a subject of dispute between the two nations, until a friendly
understanding was at last come to in November, 1846.  Queen Pomaré,
who had fled to another island, had returned to Papeiti five weeks before
my arrival.  She resides in a four-roomed house, and dines daily,
with her family, at the governor’s table.  The French government
is having a handsome house built for her use, and allows her a pension
of 25,000 francs per annum (£1,041 13s. 4d.).  No stranger
is allowed to visit her without the governor’s permission, but
this is easily obtained.

Papeiti was full of French troops, and several men-of-war were lying
at anchor.

The place contains three or four thousand inhabitants, and consists
of a row of small wooden houses, skirting the harbour, and separated
by small gardens.  In the immediate background is a fine wood,
with a number of huts scattered about in different parts of it.

The principal buildings are—the governor’s house, the
French magazines, the military bakehouse, the barracks, and the queen’s
house, which however is not quite completed.  Besides these, a
number of small wooden houses were in the course of erection, the want
of them being greatly felt; at the time of my visit even officers of
high rank were obliged to be contented with the most wretched huts.

I went from hut to hut in the hopes of being able to obtain some
small room or other; but in vain, all were already occupied.  I
was at last obliged to be satisfied with a small piece of ground, which
I found at a carpenter’s, whose room was already inhabited by
four different individuals.  I was shown a place behind the door,
exactly six feet long and four broad.  There was no flooring but
the earth itself; the walls were composed of wicker work; a bed was
quite out of the question, and yet for this accommodation I was obliged
to pay one florin and thirty kreutzers a-week (about 7s.)

The residence or hut of an Indian consists simply of a roof of palm-trees,
supported on a number of poles, with sometimes the addition of walls
formed of wicker-work.  Each hut contains only one room, from twenty
to fifty feet long, and from ten to thirty feet broad, and is frequently
occupied by several families at the same time.  The furniture is
composed of finely woven straw mats, a few coverlids, and two or three
wooden chests and stools; the last, however, are reckoned articles of
luxury.  Cooking utensils are not wanted, as the cookery of the
Indians does not include soups or sauces, their provisions being simply
roasted between hot stones.  All they require is a knife, and a
cocoa shell for water.

Before their huts, or on the shore, lie their piroques, formed of
the trunks of trees hollowed out, and so narrow, small, and shallow,
that they would constantly be overturning, if there were not on one
side five or six sticks, each about a foot long, fastened by a cross-bar
to preserve the equilibrium.  In spite of this, however, one of
these boats is very easily upset, unless a person steps in very cautiously. 
When, on one occasion, I proceeded in a piroque to the ship, the good-hearted
captain was horror-struck, and, in his concern for my safety, even reprimanded
me severely, and besought me not to repeat the experiment a second time.

The costume of the Indians has been, since the first settlement of
the missionaries (about fifty years ago), tolerably becoming, especially
in the neighbourhood of Papeiti.  Both men and women wear round
their loins a kind of apron, made of coloured stuff, and called a pareo;
the women let it fall as low down as their ancles; the men not farther
than the calf of the leg.  The latter have a short coloured shirt
underneath it, and again beneath that, large flowing trousers. 
The women wear a long full blouse.  Both sexes wear flowers in
their ears, which have such large holes bored in them that the stalk
can very easily be drawn through.  The women, both old and young,
adorn themselves with garlands of leaves and flowers, which they make
in the most artistic and elegant manner.  I have often seen men,
too, weaving the same kind of ornament.

On grand occasions, they cast over their ordinary dress an upper
garment, called a tiputa, the cloth of which they manufacture
themselves from the bark of the bread and cocoa trees.  The bark,
while still tender, is beaten between two stones, until it is as thin
as paper; it is then coloured yellow and brown.

One Sunday I went into the meeting-house to see the people assembled
there. {73} 
Before entering they all laid aside their flowers, with which they again
ornamented themselves at their departure.  Some of the women had
black satin blouses on, and European bonnets of an exceedingly ancient
date.  It would not be easy to find a more ugly sight than that
of their plump, heavy heads and faces in these old-fashioned bonnets.

During the singing of the psalms there was some degree of attention,
and many of the congregation joined in very becomingly; but while the
clergyman was performing the service, I could not remark the slightest
degree of devotion in any of them; the children played, joked, and ate,
while the adults gossiped or slept; and although I was assured that
many could read and even write, I saw only two old men who made any
use of their Bibles.

The men are a remarkably strong and vigorous race, six feet being
by no means an uncommon height amongst them.  The women, likewise,
are very tall, but too muscular—they might even be termed unwieldy. 
The features of the men are handsomer than those of the women. 
They have beautiful teeth and fine dark eyes, but generally a large
mouth, thick lips, and an ugly nose, the cartilage being slightly crushed
when the child is born, so that the nose becomes flat and broad. 
This fashion appears to be most popular with the females, for their
noses are the ugliest.  Their hair is jet black and thick, but
coarse; the women and girls generally wear it plaited in two knots. 
The colour of their skin is a copper-brown.  All the natives are
tattooed, generally from the hips half down the legs, and frequently
this mode of ornamenting themselves is extended to the hands, feet,
or other parts of the body.  The designs resemble arabesques; they
are regular and artistic in their composition, and executed with much
taste.

That the population of this place should be so vigorous and well-formed
is the more surprising, if we reflect on their depraved and immoral
kind of life.  Little girls of seven or eight years old have their
lovers of twelve or fourteen, and their parents are quite proud of the
fact.  The more lovers a girl has the more she is respected. 
As long as she is not married she leads a most dissolute life, and it
is said that not all the married women make the most faithful wives
possible.

I had frequent opportunities of seeing the national dances, which
are the most unbecoming I ever beheld, although every painter would
envy me my good fortune.  Let the reader picture to himself a grove
of splendid palms, and other gigantic trees of the torrid zone, with
a number of open huts, and a crowd of good-humoured islanders assembled
beneath, to greet, in their fashion, the lovely evening, which is fast
approaching.  Before one of the huts a circle is formed, and in
the centre sit two herculean and half-naked natives, beating time most
vigorously on small drums.  Five similar colossi are seated before
them, moving the upper parts of their bodies in the most horrible and
violent manner, and more especially the arms, hands, and fingers; the
latter they have the power of moving in every separate joint. 
I imagine, that by these gestures they desired to represent how they
pursue their enemy, ridicule his cowardice, rejoice at their victory,
and so forth.  During all this time they howl continually in a
most discordant manner, and make the most hideous faces.  At the
commencement, the men appear alone upon the scene of action, but after
a short time two female forms dart forward from among the spectators,
and dance and rave like two maniacs; the more unbecoming, bold, and
indecent their gestures, the greater the applause.  The whole affair
does not, at most, last longer than two minutes, and the pause before
another dance is commenced not much longer.  An evening’s
amusement of this description often lasts for hours.  The younger
members of society very seldom take any part in the dances.

It is a great question whether the immorality of these islanders
has been lessened by French civilization.  From my own observations,
as well as from what I was told by persons well informed on the subject,
I should say that this has not yet been the case, and that, for the
present, there is but little hope of its being so: while, on the other
side, the natives have acquired a number of useless wants, in consequence
of which, the greed for gold has been fearfully awakened in their breasts. 
As they are naturally very lazy, and above all things disinclined to
work, they have made the female portion of the community the means of
gaining money.  Parents, brothers, and even husbands, offer to
their foreign masters those belonging to them, while the women themselves
offer no opposition, as in this manner they can obtain the means for
their own display, and money for their relations without trouble. 
Every officer’s house is the rendezvous of several native beauties,
who go out and in at every hour of the day.  Even abroad they are
not particular; they will accompany any man without the least hesitation,
and no gentleman ever refuses a conductress of this description.

As a female of an advanced age, I may be allowed to make a few observations
upon such a state of things, and I frankly own that, although I have
travelled much and seen a great deal, I never witnessed such shameful
scenes of public depravity.

As a proof of what I assert, I will mention a little affair which
happened one day before my hut.

Four fat graces were squatted on the ground smoking tobacco, when
an officer, who happened to be passing, caught a glimpse of the charming
picture, rushed up at double quick pace and caught hold of one of the
beauties by the shoulder.  He began by speaking softly to her,
but as his anger increased, he changed his tone to one of loud abuse. 
But neither entreaties nor threats produced the slightest effect upon
the delicate creature to whom they were addressed; she remained coolly
in the same position, continuing to smoke with the greatest indifference,
and without deigning even to cast upon her excited swain a look, far
less answer him a word.  He became enraged to such a pitch, that
he so far forgot himself as to loosen the golden ear-rings from her
ears, and threatened to take away all the finery he had given her. 
Even this was not sufficient to rouse the girl from her stolid calmness,
and the valiant officer was, at last, obliged to retreat from the field
of battle.

From his conversation, which was half in French and half in the native
dialect, I learned that in three months the girl had cost him about
four hundred francs in dress and jewellery.  Her wishes were satisfied,
and she quietly refused to have anything more to say to him.

I very often heard the feeling, attachment, and kindness of this
people spoken of in terms of high praise, with which, however, I cannot
unreservedly agree.  Their kindness I will not precisely dispute;
they readily invite a stranger to share their hospitality, and even
kill a pig in his honour, give him a part of their couch, etc.; but
all this costs them no trouble, and if they are offered money in return,
they take it eagerly enough, without so much as thanking the donor. 
As for feeling and attachment, I should almost be inclined to deny that
they possessed them in the slightest degree; I saw only sensuality,
and none of the nobler sentiments.  I shall return to this subject
when describing my journey through the island.

On the 1st of May I witnessed a highly interesting scene.  It
was the fête of Louis Philippe, the King of the French; and the
governor, Monsieur Bruat, exerted himself to the utmost to amuse the
population of Tahiti.  In the forenoon, there was a tournament
on the water, in which the French sailors were the performers. 
Several boats with lusty oarsmen put out to sea.  In the bows of
each boat was a kind of ladder or steps, on which stood one of the combatants
with a pole.  The boats were then pulled close to one another,
and each combatant endeavoured to push his antagonist into the water. 
Besides this, there was a Mât de Cocagne, with coloured
shirts, ribbons, and other trifles fluttering at the top, for whoever
chose to climb up and get them.  At 12 o’clock the chiefs
and principal personages were entertained at dinner.  On the grass
plot before the governor’s house were heaped up various sorts
of provisions, such as salt meat, bacon, bread, baked pork, fruits,
etc.; but instead of the guests taking their places all around, as we
had supposed they would have done, the chiefs divided everything into
different portions, and each carried his share home.  In the evening
there were fireworks, and a ball.

No part of the entertainment amused me more than the ball, where
I witnessed the most startling contrasts of art and nature.  Elegant
Frenchwomen side by side with their brown, awkward sisters, and the
staff officers in full uniform, in juxta-position with the half-naked
islanders.  Many of the natives wore, on this occasion, broad white
trousers, with a shirt over them; but there were others who had no other
garments than the ordinary short shirt and the pareo.  One of the
chiefs who appeared in this costume, and was afflicted with Elephantiasis,
{76} offered a most
repulsive spectacle.

This evening I saw Queen Pomaré for the first time. 
She is a woman of 36 years of age, tall and stout, but tolerably well
preserved—as a general rule, I found that the women here fade
much less quickly than in other warm climates—her face is far
from ugly, and there is a most good-natured expression round her mouth,
and the lower portion of her face.  She was enveloped in a sky-blue
satin gown, or rather, sort of blouse, ornamented all round with two
rows of rich black blond.  She wore large jessamine blossoms in
her ears, and a wreath of flowers in her hair, while in her hand she
carried a fine pocket handkerchief beautifully embroidered, and ornamented
with broad lace.  In honour of the evening, she had forced her
feet into shoes and stockings, though on other occasions she went barefoot. 
The entire costume was a present from the King of the French.

The queen’s husband, who is younger than herself, is the handsomest
man in Tahiti.  The French jokingly call him the Prince Albert
of Tahiti, not only on account of his good looks, but because, like
Prince Albert in England, he is not named “the king,” but
simply, “the queen’s consort.”  He had on the
uniform of a French general, which became him very well; the more so,
that he was not in the least embarrassed in it.  The only drawback
were his feet, which were very ugly and awkward.

Besides these two high personages, there was in the company another
crowned head, namely, King Otoume, the owner of one of the neighbouring
islands.  He presented a most comical appearance, having put on,
over a pair of full but short white trousers, a bright yellow calico
coat, that most certainly had not been made by a Parisian artiste, for
it was a perfect model of what a coat ought not to be.  This monarch
was barefoot.

The queen’s ladies of honour, four in number, as well as most
of the wives and daughters of the chiefs, were dressed in white muslin. 
They had also flowers in their ears, and garlands in their hair. 
Their behaviour and deportment were surprising, and three of the young
ladies actually danced French quadrilles with the officers, without
making a fault in the figures.  I was only anxious for their feet,
as no one, save the royal couple, wore either shoes or stockings. 
Some of the old women had arrayed themselves in European bonnets, while
the young ones brought their children, even the youngest, with them,
and, to quiet the latter, suckled them without ceremony before the company.

Before supper was announced, the queen disappeared in an adjoining
room to smoke a cigar or two, while her husband passed the time in playing
billiards.

At table I was seated between Prince Albert of Tahiti and the canary-coloured
King Otoume.  They were both sufficiently advanced in the rules
of good breeding to show me the usual civilities; that is, to fill my
glass with water or wine, to hand me the various dishes, and so on;
but it was evident that they were at great trouble to catch the tone
of European society.  Some of the guests, however, forgot their
parts now and then: the queen, for instance, asked, during the dessert,
for a second plate, which she filled with sweetmeats, and ordered to
be put on one side for her to take home with her.  Others had to
be prevented from indulging too much in the generous champagne; but,
on the whole, the entertainment passed off in a becoming and good-humoured
manner.

I subsequently dined with the royal family several times at the governor’s. 
The queen then appeared in the national costume, with the coloured pareo
and chemise, as did also her husband.  Both were barefoot. 
The heir apparent, a boy of nine years old, is affianced to the daughter
of a neighbouring king.  The bride, who is a few years older than
the prince, is being educated at the court of Queen Pomaré, and
instructed in the Christian religion, and the English and Tahitian languages.

The arrangements of the queen’s residence are exceedingly simple. 
For the present, until the stone house which is being built for her
by the French government is completed, she lives in a wooden one containing
four rooms, and partly furnished with European furniture.

As peace was now declared in Tahiti, there was no obstacle to my
making a journey through the whole island.  I had obtained a fortnight’s
leave of absence from the captain, and was desirous of devoting this
time to a trip.  I imagined that I should have been able to join
one or other of the officers, who are often obliged to journey through
the island on affairs connected with the government.  To my great
surprise I found, however, that they had all some extraordinary reason
why it was impossible for me to accompany them at that particular time. 
I was at a loss to account for this incivility, until one of the officers
themselves told me the answer to the riddle, which was this: every gentleman
always travelled with his mistress.

Monsieur —, {78}
who let me into the secret, offered to take me with him to Papara, where
he resided; but even he did not travel alone, as, besides his mistress,
Tati, the principal chief of the island, and his family, accompanied
him.  This chief had come to Papeiti to be present at the fete
of the 1st of May.

On the 4th of May we put off to sea in a boat, for the purpose of
coasting round to Papara, forty-two miles distant.  I found the
chief Tati to be a lively old man nearly ninety years of age, who remembered
perfectly the second landing of the celebrated circumnavigator of the
globe, Captain Cook.  His father was, at that period, the principal
chief, and had concluded a friendly alliance with Cook, and, according
to the custom then prevalent at Tahiti, had changed names with him.

Tati enjoys from the French government a yearly pension of 6,000
francs (£240), which, after his death, will fall to his eldest
son.

He had with him his young wife and five of his sons; the former was
twenty-three years old, and the ages of the latter varied from twelve
to eighteen.  The children were all the offspring of other marriages,
this being his fifth wife.

As we had not left Papeiti till nearly noon, and as the sun sets
soon after six o’clock, and the passage between the numberless
rocks is highly dangerous, we landed at Paya (22 miles), where a sixth
son of Tati’s ruled as chief.

The island is intersected in all directions by noble mountains, the
loftiest of which, the Oroena, is 6,200 feet high.  In the middle
of the island the mountains separate, and a most remarkable mass of
rock raises itself from the midst of them.  It has the form of
a diadem with a number of points, and it is to this circumstance that
it owes its name.  Around the mountain range winds a forest girdle,
from four to six hundred paces broad; it is inhabited, and contains
the most delicious fruit.  Nowhere did I ever eat such bread-fruit,
mangoes, oranges, and guavas, as I did here.  As for cocoa-nuts,
the natives are so extravagant with them, that they generally merely
drink the water they contain, and then throw away the shell and the
fruit.  In the mountains and ravines there are a great quantity
of plantains, a kind of banana, which are not commonly eaten, however,
without being roasted.  The huts of the natives lie scattered here
and there along the shore; it is very seldom that a dozen of these huts
are seen together.

The bread-fruit is somewhat similar in shape to a water-melon, and
weighs from four to six pounds.  The outside is green, and rather
rough and thin.  The natives scrape it with mussel-shells, and
then split the fruit up long ways into two portions, which they roast
between two heated stones.  The taste is delicious; it is finer
than that of potatoes, and so like bread that the latter may be dispensed
with without any inconvenience.  The South Sea Islands are the
real home of the fruit.  It is true that it grows in other parts
of the tropics, but it is very different from that produced here. 
In Brazil, for instance, where the people call it monkeys’ bread,
it weighs from five to thirty pounds, and is full inside of kernels,
which are taken out and eaten when the fruit is roasted.  These
kernels taste like chestnuts.

The mango is a fruit resembling an apple, and of the size of a man’s
fist; both the rind and the fruit itself are yellow.  It tastes
a little like turpentine, but loses this taste more and more the riper
it gets.  This fruit is of the best description; it is full and
juicy, and has a long, broad kernel in the middle.  The bread and
mango trees grow to a great height and circumference.  The leaves
of the former are about three feet long, a foot and a-half broad, and
deeply serrated; while those of the latter are not much larger than
the leaves of our own apple-trees.

Before reaching Paya, we passed several interesting places, among
which may be mentioned Foar, a small French fort, situated upon a hill. 
Near Taipari it is necessary to pass between two rows of dangerous breakers,
called the “Devil’s Entrance.”  The foaming waves
rose in such volume and to so great a height, that they might almost
be mistaken for walls.  In the plain near Punavia is a large fort
supported by several towers, built upon the neighbouring hills. 
At this point the scenery is beautiful.  The mountain range breaks
here, so that the eye can follow for a long distance the windings of
a picturesque valley, with the black and lofty mountain Olofena in the
background.

Delighted as I was, however, with the beauty of the objects around
me, I was no less pleased with those beneath.  Our boat glided
along over countless shallows, where the water was as clear as crystal,
so that the smallest pebble at the bottom was distinctly visible. 
I could observe groups and clusters of coloured coral and madrepore-stone,
whose magnificence challenges all description.  It might be said
that there was a quantity of fairy flower and kitchen gardens in the
sea, full of gigantic flowers, blossoms, and leaves, varied by fungi
and pulse of every description, like open arabesque work, the whole
interspersed with pretty groups of rocks of every hue.  The most
lovely shell-fish were clinging to these rocks, or lying scattered on
the ground, while endless shoals of variegated fish darted in and out
between them, like so many butterflies and humming-birds.  These
delicate creatures were scarcely four inches long, and surpassed in
richness of colour anything I had ever seen.  Many of them were
of the purest sky-blue, others a light yellow, while some, again, that
were almost transparent, were brown, green, etc.

On our arrival at Paya, about 6 in the evening, the young Tati had
a pig, weighing eighteen or twenty pounds, killed and cooked, after
the fashion of Tahiti, in honour of his father.  A large fire was
kindled in a shallow pit, in which were a number of stones.  A
quantity of bread-fruit (majoré), that had been first peeled
and split into two portions with a very sharp wooden axe, was then brought. 
When the fire had gone out, and the stones heated to the requisite degree,
the pig and the fruit were laid upon them, a few other heated stones
placed on the top, and the whole covered up with green branches, dry
leaves, and earth.

During the time that the victuals were cooking, the table was laid. 
A straw mat was placed upon the ground, and covered with large leaves. 
For each guest there was a cocoa-nut shell, half-filled with miti,
a sourish beverage extracted from the cocoa-palm.

In an hour and a half the victuals were dug up.  The pig was
neither very artistically cooked nor very enticing, but cut up as quick
as lightning, being divided by the hand and knife into as many portions
as there were guests, and each person had his share, together with half
a bread-fruit, handed to him upon a large leaf.  There was no one
at our rustic table besides the officer, his mistress, the old Tati,
his wife, and myself, as it is contrary to the custom of the country
for the host to eat with his guests, or the children with their parents. 
With the exception of this ceremony, I did not observe any other proof
of love or affection between the father and son.  The old man,
for instance, although ninety years of age, and suffering besides from
a violent cough, was obliged to pass the night under nothing but a light
roof, open to the weather, while his son slept in his well-closed huts.

On the 5th of May, we left Taipari with empty stomachs, as old Tati
was desirous of entertaining us at one of his estates about two hours’
journey distant.

On our arrival, and as soon as the stones were heated for our meal,
several of the natives out of the neighbouring huts hastened to profit
by the opportunity to cook their provisions as well, bringing with them
fish, pieces of pork, bread-fruit, plantains, and so on.  The fish
and meat were enveloped in large leaves.  For our use, besides
bread-fruit and fish, there was a turtle weighing perhaps more than
twenty pounds.  The repast was held in a hut, to which the whole
neighbourhood also came, and forming themselves into groups a little
on one side of us principal guests, eat the provisions they had brought
with them.  Each person had a cocoa-nut shell full of miti
before him; into this he first threw every morsel and took it out again
with his hand, and then what remained of the miti was drunk at the end
of the meal.  We had each of us a fresh cocoa-nut with a hole bored
in it, containing at least a pint of clear, sweet-tasting water. 
This is erroneously termed by us “Milk,” but it only becomes
thick and milky when the cocoa-nut is very stale, in which condition
it is never eaten in these islands.

Tati, with his family, remained here, while we proceeded to Papara,
an hour’s walk.  The road was delightful, leading mostly
through thick groves of fruit-trees; but it would not suit a person
with a tendency to hydrophobia, for we were obliged to wade through
more than half a dozen streams and brooks.

At Papara, Monsieur — possessed some landed property, with a little
wooden four-roomed house, in which he was kind enough to give me a lodging.

We here heard of the death of one of Tati’s sons, of which
he numbered twenty-one.  He had been dead three days, and his friends
were awaiting Tati to pay the last honours to the deceased.  I
had intended to make an excursion to the Lake Vaihiria, but deferred
doing so, in order to be present at the burial.  On the following
morning, 6th May, I paid a visit to the hut of the deceased.  Monsieur
— gave me a new handkerchief to take with me as a present—a
relic of the old superstition which the people of this island have introduced
into Christianity.  These presents are supposed to calm the soul
of the deceased.  The corpse was lying in a narrow coffin, upon
a low bier, both of which were covered with a white pall.  Before
the bier were hung two straw mats, on which were spread the deceased’s
clothes, drinking vessels, knives, and so forth, while on the other,
lay the presents, making quite a heap, of shirts, pareos, pieces of
cloth, etc., all so new and good that they might have served to furnish
a small shop.

Old Tati soon entered the hut, but quickly returned into the open
air, stopping only a few instants, as the corpse was already most offensive. 
He sat down under a tree, and began talking very quietly and unconcernedly
with the neighbours, as if nothing had happened.  The female relatives
and neighbours remained in the hut; they, too, chatted and gossiped
very contentedly, and moreover ate and smoked.  I was obliged to
have the wife, children, and relations of the deceased pointed out to
me, for I was unable to recognise them by their demeanour.  In
a little time, the stepmother and wife rose, and throwing themselves
on the coffin, howled for half an hour; but it was easy to see that
their grief did not come from the heart.  Their moaning was always
pitched in the same monotonous key.  Both then returned with smiling
faces and dry eyes to their seats, and appeared to resume the conversation
at the point at which they had broken it off.  The deceased’s
canoe was burnt upon the shore.

I had seen enough, and returned to my quarters to make some preparations
for my trip to the lake the next day.  The distance is reckoned
to be eighteen miles, so that the journey there and back may be performed
in two days with ease, and yet a guide had the conscience to ask ten
dollars (£2) for his services.  With the assistance of old
Tati, however, I procured one for three dollars (12s.).

Pedestrian trips are very fatiguing in Tahiti, since it is so richly
watered that the excursionist is constantly obliged to wade through
plains of sand and rivers.  I was very suitably clothed for the
purpose, having got strong men’s shoes, without any stockings,
trousers, and a blouse, which I had fastened up as high as my hips. 
Thus equipped I began, on the 7th of May, my short journey, in company
with my guide.  In the first third of my road, which lay along
the coast, I counted about thirty-two brooks which we were obliged to
walk through.  We then struck off, through ravines, into the interior
of the island, first calling, however, at a hut to obtain some refreshment. 
The inmates were very friendly, and gave us some bread-fruit and fish,
but very willingly accepted a small present in exchange.

In the interior, the fine fruit-trees disappear, and their place
is supplied by plantains, tarros, and a kind of bush, growing to the
height of twelve feet, and called Oputu (Maranta); the last, in fact,
grew so luxuriantly, that we frequently experienced the greatest difficulty
in making our way through.  The tarro, which is planted, is from
two to three feet high, and has fine large leaves and tubercles, similar
to the potato, but which do not taste very good when roasted. 
The plantain, or banana, is a pretty little tree, from fifteen to twenty
feet high, with leaves like those of the palm, and a stem which is often
eight inches in diameter, but is not of wood, but cane, and very easily
broken.  It belongs properly to the herbiferous species, and grows
with uncommon rapidity.  It reaches its full growth the first year:
in the second it bears fruit, and then dies.  It is produced from
shoots, which generally spring up near the parent tree.

Through one mountain stream, which chafed along the ravine over a
stony bed, and in some places was exceedingly rapid, and, in consequence
of the rain that had lately fallen, was frequently more than three feet
deep, we had to wade sixty-two times.  My guide caught hold of
me by the hand whenever we passed a dangerous spot, and dragged me,
often half swimming, after him.  The water constantly reached above
my hips, and all idea of getting dry again was totally out of the question. 
The path also became at every step more fatiguing and dangerous. 
I had to clamber over rocks and stones covered to such an extent with
the foliage of the oputu that I never knew with any degree of certainty
where I was placing my foot.  I received several severe wounds
on my hands and feet, and frequently fell down on the ground, when I
trusted for support to the treacherous stem of a banana, which would
break beneath my grasp.  It was really a breakneck sort of excursion,
which is very rarely made even by the officers, and certainly never
by ladies.

In two places the ravine became so narrow, that the bed of the stream
occupied its whole extent.  It was here that the islanders, during
the war with the French, built stone walls five feet in height to protect
them against the enemy, in case they should have attacked them from
this side.

In eight hours’ time we had completed the eighteen miles, and
attained an elevation of 1,800 feet.  The lake itself was not visible
until we stood upon its shores, as it lies in a slight hollow; it is
about 800 feet across.  The surrounding scenery is the most remarkable. 
The lake is so closely hemmed in by a ring of lofty and precipitous
green mountains, that there is no room even for a footing between the
water and the rocks, and its bed might be taken for an extinguished
volcano filled with water—a supposition which gains additional
force from the masses of basalt which occupy the foreground.  It
is plentifully supplied with fish, one kind of which is said to be peculiar
to the locality; it is supposed that the lake has a subterranean outlet,
which as yet remains undiscovered.

To cross the lake, it is either necessary to swim over or trust oneself
to a dangerous kind of boat, which is prepared by the natives in a few
minutes.  Being desirous of making the attempt, I intimated this
by signs to my guide.  In an instant he tore off some plantain-branches,
fastened them together with long, tough grass, laid a few leaves upon
them, launched them in the water, and then told me to take possession
of this apology for a boat.  I must own that I felt rather frightened,
although I did not like to say so.  I stept on board, and my guide
swam behind and pushed me forward.  I made the passage to the opposite
side and back without any accident, but I was in truth rather alarmed
the whole time.  The boat was small, and floated under rather than
upon the water—there was nothing I could support myself with,
and every minute I expected to fall into the lake.  I would not
advise any one who cannot swim ever to follow my example.

After I had sufficiently admired the lake and the surrounding scenery,
we retraced our way for some hundred yards, until we reached a little
spot roofed over with leaves.  Here my guide quickly made a good
fire, after the Indian fashion.  He took a small piece of wood,
which he cut to a fine point, and then selecting a second piece, he
made in it a narrow furrow not very deep.  In this he rubbed the
pointed stick until the little particles which were detached during
the operation began to smoke.  These he threw into a quantity of
dry leaves and grass which he had got together for the purpose, and
swung the whole several times round in the air, until it burst out into
flames.  The entire process did not take more than two minutes.

For our supper, he gathered a few plantains and laid them on the
fire.  I profited by the opportunity to dry my clothes, by sitting
down near the fire, and turning first one side towards it, and then
the other.  Half wet through, and tolerably fatigued, I retired
to my couch of dry leaves immediately after partaking of our scanty
meal.

It is a fortunate circumstance that in these wild and remote districts
neither men nor beasts afford the slightest grounds for apprehension;
the former are very quiet and peaceably inclined, and, with the exception
of a few wild boars, the latter are not dangerous.  The island
is especially favoured; it contains no poisonous or hurtful insects
or reptiles.  It is true there are a few scorpions, but so small
and harmless, that they may be handled with impunity.  The mosquitoes
alone were the source of very considerable annoyance, as they are in
all southern countries.

8th May.  It began to rain very violently during the night,
and in the morning I was sorry to see that there was not much hope of
its clearing up; on the contrary, the clouds became blacker and blacker,
and collecting from all sides, like so many evil spirits, poured down
in torrents upon the innocent earth.  Nevertheless, in spite of
this, there was no other course open to us but to bid defiance to the
angry water deity, and proceed upon our journey.  In half an hour
I was literally drenched; this being the case, I went on uncomplainingly,
as it was impossible for me to become wetter than I was.

On my return to Papara, I found that Tati’s son was not buried,
but the ceremony took place the next day.  The clergyman pronounced
a short discourse at the side of the grave; and, as the coffin was being
lowered, the mats, straw hat, and clothes of the deceased, as well as
a few of the presents, were thrown in with it.  The relations were
present, but as unconcerned as I was myself.

The graveyard was in the immediate vicinity of several murais
The latter are small four-cornered plots of ground surrounded by stone
walls three or four feet high, where the natives used to deposit their
dead, which were left exposed upon wooden frames until the flesh fell
from the bones.  These were then collected and buried in some lonely
spot.

The same evening I witnessed a remarkable mode of catching fish. 
Two boys waded out into the sea, one with a stick, and the other with
a quantity of burning chips.  The one with the stick drove the
fish between the rocks, and then hit them, the other lighting him in
the meanwhile.  They were not very fortunate, however.  The
more common and successful manner of fishing is with nets.

Almost every day Monsieur — had visits from officers who were passing,
accompanied by their mistresses.  The reader may easily imagine
that the laws of propriety were not, however, always strictly observed,
and as I had no desire to disturb the gentlemen in their intellectual
conversation and amusement, I retired with my book into the servants’
room.  They, too, would laugh and joke, but, at least, in such
a manner that there was no occasion to blush for them.

It was highly amusing to hear Monsieur — launch out in praise of
the attachment and gratitude of his Indian beauty; he would have altered
his tone had he seen her behaviour in his absence.  On one occasion
I could not help telling one of the gentlemen my opinion of the matter,
and expressing my astonishment that they could treat these grasping
and avaricious creatures with such attention and kindness, to load them
with presents, anticipate their every wish, and forgive and put up with
their most glaring faults.  The answer I received was: that these
ladies, if not so treated and loaded with presents, would quickly run
off, and that, in fact, even by the kindest attentions they never allowed
themselves to be influenced very long.

From all I saw, I must repeat my former assertion, that the Tahitian
people are endowed with none of the more noble sentiments of humanity,
but that their only pleasures are merely animal.  Nature herself
encourages them to this in an extraordinary manner.  They have
no need to gain their bread by the sweat of their brow; the island is
most plentifully supplied with beautiful fruit, tubercles of all descriptions,
and tame pigs, so that the people have really only to gather the fruit
and kill the pigs.  To this circumstance is to be attributed the
difficulty that exists of obtaining any one as servant or in any other
capacity.  The most wretched journeyman will not work for less
than a dollar a-day; the price for washing a dozen handkerchiefs, or
any other articles, is also a dollar (4s.), not including soap. 
A native, whom I desired to engage as guide, demanded a dollar and a
half a day.

I returned from Papara to Papeiti in the company of an officer and
his native beauty; we walked the thirty-six miles in a day.  On
our way, we passed the hut of the girl’s mother, where we partook
of a most splendid dish.  It was composed of bread-fruit, mangoes,
and bananas, kneaded together into a paste, and cooked upon hot stones. 
It was eaten, while warm, with a sauce of orange juice.

On taking leave, the officer gave the girl a present of a dollar
to give her mother; the girl took it as indifferently as if it were
not of the slightest value, and her mother did exactly the same, neither
of them pronouncing one word of thanks, or manifesting the least sign
of satisfaction.

We now and then came upon some portions of the road, the work of
public offenders, that were most excellently constructed.  Whenever
an Indian is convicted of a crime, he is not chained in a gang, like
convicts in Europe, but condemned to make or mend a certain extent of
road, and the natives fulfil the tasks thus imposed with such punctuality,
that no overseer is ever necessary.  This kind of punishment was
introduced under King Pomaré, and originated with the natives
themselves—the Europeans have merely continued the practice.

At Punavia we entered the fort, where we refreshed ourselves, in
military fashion, with bread, wine, and bacon, and reached our journey’s
end at 7 o’clock in the morning.

Besides Papara, I visited also Venus Point, a small tongue of land
where Cook observed the transit of Venus.  The stone on which he
placed his instruments still remains.  On my way, I passed the
grave, or murai, of King Pomaré I.  It consists of
a small piece of ground, surrounded by a stone wall, and covered with
a roof of palm-leaves.  Some half-decayed pieces of cloth and portions
of wearing apparel were still lying in it.

One of my most interesting excursions, however, was that to Fantaua
and the Diadem.  The former is a spot which the Indians considered
impregnable; but where, nevertheless, they were well beaten by the French
during the last war.  Monsieur Bruat, the governor, was kind enough
to lend me his horses, and to allow me the escort of a non-commissioned
officer, who could point out to me each position of the Indians and
French, as he had himself been in the engagement.

For more than two hours, we proceeded through horrible ravines, thick
woods, and rapid mountain torrents.  The ravines often became so
narrow as to form so many defiles, with such precipitous and inaccessible
sides, that here, as at Thermopylæ, a handful of valiant warriors
might defy whole armies.  As a natural consequence, the entrance
of Fantaua is regarded as the real key to the whole island.  There
was no other means of taking it than by scaling one of its most precipitous
sides, and pressing forward upon the narrow ledge of rock above, so
as to take the enemy in the rear.  The governor, Monsieur Bruat,
announced that he would confide this dangerous enterprise to volunteers,
and he soon had more than he could employ.  From those chosen,
a second selection of only sixty-two men was made: these divested themselves
of every article of clothing save their shoes and drawers, and took
no other arms save their muskets.

After clambering up for twelve hours, and incurring great danger,
they succeeded, by the aid of ropes, and by sticking pointed iron-rods
and bayonets into the rock, in reaching the crest of the mountain, where
their appearance so astonished the Indians, that they lost all courage,
threw down their arms, and surrendered.  They said that those who
were capable of deeds like this, could not be men but spirits, against
whom all hopes of resistance were out of the question altogether.

At present, there is a small fort built at Fantaua, and on one of
its highest points stands a guard-house.  The path leading to it
is over a small ledge of rock, skirted on each side by a yawning abyss. 
Persons affected with giddiness can only reach it with great difficulty,
if indeed they can do so at all.  In this last case, they are great
losers, for the prospect is magnificent in the extreme, extending over
valleys, ravines, and mountains without number (among the latter may
be mentioned the colossal rock called the “Diadem”), thick
forests of palms and other trees; and beyond all these, the mighty ocean,
broken into a thousand waves against the rocks and reefs, and in the
distance mingling with the azure sky.

Near the fort, a waterfall precipitates itself perpendicularly down
a narrow ravine.  Unfortunately, the bottom of it is concealed
by jutting rocks and promontories, and the volume of water is rather
small; otherwise, this fall would, on account of its height, which is
certainly more than 400 feet, deserve to be classed among the most celebrated
ones with which I am acquainted.

The road from the fort to the Diadem is extremely fatiguing, and
fully three hours are required to accomplish the journey.  The
prospect here is even more magnificent than from the fort, as the eye
beholds the sea over two sides of the island at the same time.

This excursion was my last in this beautiful isle, as I was obliged
to embark on the next day, the 17th of May.  The cargo was cleared,
and the ballast taken on board.  All articles to which the French
troops are accustomed, such as flour, salted meat, potatoes, pulse,
wine, and a variety of others, have to be imported. {86}

I felt extremely reluctant to leave; and the only thing that tended
at all to cheer my spirits, was the thought of my speedy arrival in
China, that most wonderful of all known countries.

We left the port of Papeiti on the morning of the 17th of May, with
a most favourable wind, soon passed in safety all the dangerous coral-reefs
which surround the island, and in seven hours’ time had lost sight
of it altogether.  Towards evening, we beheld the mountain ranges
of the island of Huaheme, which we passed during the night.

The commencement of our voyage was remarkably pleasant.  Besides
the favourable breeze, which still continued, we enjoyed the company
of a fine Belgian brig, the Rubens, which had put to sea at the same
time as ourselves.  It was seldom that we approached near enough
for the persons on board to converse with each other; but whoever is
at all acquainted with the endless uniformity of long voyages, will
easily understand our satisfaction at knowing we were even in the neighbourhood
of human beings.

We pursued the same track as far as the Philippine Islands, but on
the morning of the third day our companion had disappeared, leaving
us in ignorance whether she had out-sailed us or we her.  We were
once more alone on the endless waste of waters.

On the 23rd of May, we approached very near to the low island of
Penchyn.  A dozen or two of the natives were desirous of honouring
us with a visit, and pulled stoutly in six canoes towards our ship,
but we sailed so fast that they were soon left a long way behind. 
Several of the sailors affirmed, that these were specimens of real savages,
and that we might reckon ourselves fortunate in having escaped their
visit.  The captain, too, appeared to share this opinion, and I
was the only person who regretted not having formed a more intimate
acquaintance with them.

28th May.  For some days we had been fortunate enough to be
visited, from time to time, with violent showers; a most remarkable
thing for the time of year in this climate, where the rainy season commences
in January and lasts for three months, the sky for the remaining nine
being generally cloudless.  This present exception was the more
welcome from our being just on the Line, where we should otherwise have
suffered much from the heat.  The thermometer stood at only 81°
in the shade, and 97° in the sun.

Today at noon we crossed the Line, and were once more in the northern
hemisphere.  A Tahitian sucking-pig was killed and consumed in
honour of our successful passage, and our native hemisphere toasted
in real hock.

On the 4th of June, under 8° North latitude, we beheld again,
for the first time, the lovely polar star.

On the 17th of June, we passed so near to Saypan, one of the largest
of the Ladrone Islands, that we could make out the mountains very distinctly. 
The Ladrone and Marianne Islands are situated between the 13° and
21° North latitude, and the 145° and 146° East longitude.

On the 1st of July we again saw land: this time it was the coast
of Lucovia, or Luzon, the largest of the Philippines, and lying between
the 18° and 19° North latitude, and the 125° and 119°
East longitude.  The port of Manilla is situated on the southern
coast of the island.

In the course of the day we passed the island of Babuan, and several
detached rocks, rising, colossus like, from the sea.  Four of them
were pretty close together, and formed a picturesque group.  Some
time afterwards we saw two more.

In the night of the 1st-2nd of July, we reached the western point
of Luzon, and entered on the dangerous Chinese Sea.  I was heartily
glad at last to bid adieu to the Pacific Ocean, for a voyage on it is
one of the most monotonous things that can be imagined.  The appearance
of another ship is a rare occurrence; and the water is so calm that
it resembles a stream.  Very frequently I used to start up from
my desk, thinking that I was in some diminutive room ashore; and my
mistake was the more natural, as we had three horses, a dog, several
pigs, hens, geese, and a canary bird on board, all respectively neighing,
barking, grunting, cackling, and singing, as if they were in a farm-yard.

6th July.  For the first few days after entering the Chinese
sea, we sailed pretty well in the same fashion we had done in the Pacific—proceeding
slowly and quietly on our way.  Today we beheld the coast of China
for the first time, and towards evening we were not more than thirty-three
miles from Macao.  I was rather impatient for the following morning. 
I longed to find my darling hope realized, of putting my foot upon Chinese
ground.  I pictured the mandarins with their high caps, and the
ladies with their tiny feet, when in the middle of the night the wind
shifted, and on the 7th of July we had been carried back 115 miles. 
In addition to this, the glass fell so low, that we dreaded a Tai-foon,
which is a very dangerous kind of storm, or rather hurricane, that is
very frequent in the Chinese sea during the months of July, August,
and September.  It is generally first announced by a black cloud
on the horizon, with one edge dark red, and the other half-white; and
this is accompanied by the most awful torrents of rain, by thunder,
lightning, and the violent winds, which arise simultaneously on all
sides, and lash the waters up mountains high.  We took every precaution
in anticipation of our dangerous enemy, but for once they were not needed:
either the hurricane did not break out at all, or else it broke out
at a great distance from us; for we were only visited by a trifling
storm of no long duration.

On the 8th of July we again reached the vicinity of Macao, and entered
the Straits of Lema.  Our course now lay between bays and reefs,
diversified by groups of the most beautiful islands, offering a series
of most magnificent and varied views.

On the 9th of July we anchored in Macao Roads.  The town, which
belongs to the Portuguese, and has a population of 20,000 inhabitants,
is beautifully situated on the sea-side, and surrounded by pleasing
hills and mountains.  The most remarkable objects are the palace
of the Portuguese governor, the Catholic monastery of Guia, the fortifications,
and a few fine houses which lie scattered about the hills in picturesque
disorder.

Besides a few European ships, there were anchored in the roads several
large Chinese junks, while a great number of small boats, manned by
Chinese, were rocking to and fro around us.

CHAPTER VIII.  CHINA.

MACAO—HONG-KONG—VICTORIA—VOYAGE ON BOARD A CHINESE
JUNK—THE SI-KIANG, CALLED ALSO THE TIGRIS—WHAMPOA—CANTON,
OR KUANGTSCHEU-FU—MODE OF LIFE PURSUED BY EUROPEANS—THE
CHINESE MANNERS AND CUSTOMS—CRIMINALS AND PIRATES—MURDER
OF VAUCHÉE—PROMENADES AND EXCURSIONS.

A year before my arrival in China, it would have seemed hardly credible
to me that I should ever succeed in taking my place among the small
number of Europeans who are acquainted with that remarkable country,
not from books alone, but from actual observation; I never believed
that I should really behold the Chinese, with their shaven heads, long
tails, and small, ugly, narrow eyes, the exact counterparts of the representations
of them which we have in Europe.

We had hardly anchored, before a number of Chinese clambered up on
deck, while others remained in their boats, offering for sale a variety
of beautifully made articles, with fruit and cakes, laid out in great
order, so as to form in a few seconds a regular market round the vessel. 
Some of them began praising their wares in broken English; but on the
whole, they did not drive a very flourishing business, as the crew merely
bought a few cigars, and a little fruit.

Captain Jurianse hired a boat, and we immediately went on shore,
where each person on landing had to pay half a Spanish dollar (2s.)
to the mandarin: I subsequently heard that this imposition was shortly
afterwards abolished.  We proceeded to the house of one of the
Portuguese merchants established there, passing through a large portion
of the town on our way thither.  Europeans, both men and women,
can circulate freely, without being exposed to a shower of stones, as
is frequently the case in other Chinese towns.  The streets, which
are exclusively inhabited by Chinese, presented a very bustling aspect. 
The men were in many cases seated out of doors in groups, playing at
dominoes, while locksmiths, carpenters, shoemakers, and many others
were either working, talking, playing, or dining in the numerous booths. 
I observed but few women, and these were of the lower classes. 
Nothing surprised and amused me more than the manner in which the Chinese
eat; they have two little sticks, with which they very skilfully convey
their victuals into their mouths.  This process, however, cannot
be so successfully practised with rice, because it does not hold together;
they therefore hold the plate containing it close to their mouths, and
push it in by the aid of the sticks, generally letting a portion of
it fall back again, in no very cleanly fashion, into the plate. 
For liquids they use round spoons of porcelain.

The style in which the houses are built, did not strike me as very
remarkable; the front generally looks out upon the courtyard or garden.

Among other objects which I visited was the grotto, in which the
celebrated Portuguese poet, Camoens, is said to have composed the Lusiade. 
He had been banished, A.D. 1556, to Macao, on account of a satirical
poem he had written, Disperates no India, and remained in banishment
several years before receiving a pardon.  The grotto is charmingly
situated upon an eminence not far from the town.

As there was no business to be done, the captain resolved to put
to sea again the next morning, and offered in the most friendly manner
to take me as his guest to Hong-Kong, as I had only agreed for a passage
as far as Macao.  I accepted his invitation with the greater pleasure,
as I had not a single letter to any one in Macao; besides which, it
is very seldom that there is an opportunity of proceeding to Hong-Kong.

On account of the shallowness of the water, our ship was hove to
at rather a long distance from the shore, where it was exposed to an
attack from the pirates, who are here very daring and numerous. 
In consequence of this, every precaution was taken, and the watch doubled
for the night.

As late as the year 1842 these pirates attacked a brig that was lying
at anchor in the Macao Roads, murdering the crew and plundering the
vessel.  The captain had remained on shore, and the sailors had
carelessly given themselves up to sleep, leaving only one man to keep
watch.  In the middle of the night a schampan—which is the
name given to a vessel smaller than a junk—came alongside the
brig.  One of the rowers then came on board, pretending he had
a letter from the captain; and as the sailor went near the lantern to
read the letter, he received from the pirate a blow upon his head which
laid him senseless on the deck; the rest of those in the boat, who had
hitherto remained concealed, now scaled the side of the brig, and quickly
overpowered the slumbering crew.

In our case, however, the night passed without any incident worth
noting; and on the morning of the 10th of July, having first taken on
board a pilot, we proceeded to Hong-Kong, a distance of sixty nautical
miles.  The voyage proved highly interesting, on account of the
varied succession of bays, creeks, and groups of islands which we had
to pass.

The English obtained Hong-Kong from the Chinese at the conclusion
of the war in 1842, and founded the port of Victoria, which contains
at present a large number of palace-like houses built of stone.

The Europeans who have settled here, and who are not more than two
or three hundred in number, are far from being contented, however, as
trade is not half as good as they at first expected it would be. 
Every merchant is presented by the English government with a plot of
ground, on condition of his building on it.  Many of them erected,
as I before mentioned, splendid edifices, which they would now be glad
to sell for half the cost price, or even very frequently to give the
ground and foundations, without asking the smallest sum in return.

I resolved to stop only a few days in Victoria, as it was my wish
to arrive at Canton as soon as possible.

In addition to the great politeness he had previously shown me, Captain
Jurianse conferred another favour, by allowing me, during my stay here,
to live and lodge on board his ship, thereby saving me an expense of
16s. or 24s. {91a}
a day; and, besides this, the boat which he had hired for his own use
was always at my disposal.  I must also take this opportunity of
mentioning that I never drank, on board any other vessel, such clear
and excellent water—a proof that it is not so easily spoilt by
the heat of the tropics, or a protracted period, as is generally imagined. 
It all depends upon care and cleanliness, for which the Dutch are especially
celebrated; and I only wish that every captain would, in this respect
at least, imitate their example.  It is rather too bad for passengers
to be obliged to quench their thirst with thick and most offensive water—a
disagreeable necessity I was subjected to on board every other sailing
vessel in which I made a voyage of any length.

Victoria is not very pleasantly situated, being surrounded by barren
rocks.  The town itself has a European stamp upon it, so that were
it not for the Chinese porters, labourers, and pedlars, a person would
hardly believe he was in China.  I was much struck at seeing no
native women in the streets, from which it might be concluded that it
was dangerous for a European female to walk about as freely as I did;
but I never experienced the least insult, or heard the slightest word
of abuse from the Chinese; even their curiosity was here by no means
annoying.

In Victoria I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with the well-known
Herr Gützlaff, {91b}
and four other German missionaries.  They were studying the Chinese
language; and wore the Chinese costume, with their heads shaved like
the natives, and with large cues hanging down behind.  No language
is so difficult to read and write as the Chinese; it contains more than
four thousand characters, and is wholly composed of monosyllables. 
Little brushes dipped in Indian ink are used for writing, the writing
itself extending down the paper from right to left.

I had not been above a few days in Victoria before I had an opportunity
of proceeding to Canton on board a small Chinese junk.  A gentleman
of the name of Pustan, who is settled as a merchant here, and whom I
found excessively kind, endeavoured very earnestly to dissuade me from
trusting myself among the Chinese without any protector, and advised
me either to take a boat for myself or a place in the steamer; but both
these means were too dear for my small finances, since either would
have cost twelve dollars, whereas a passage in the junk was only three. 
I must also add, that the appearance and behaviour of the Chinese did
not inspire me with the slightest apprehension.  I looked to the
priming of my pistols, and embarked very tranquilly on the evening of
the 12th of July.

A heavy fall of rain, and the approach of night, soon obliged me
to seek the interior of the vessel, where I passed my time in observing
my Chinese fellow-travellers.

The company were, it is true, not very select, but behaved with great
propriety, so that there was nothing which could prevent my remaining
among them.  Some were playing at dominoes, while others were extracting
most horrible sounds from a sort of mandolin with three strings; all,
however, were smoking, chatting, and drinking tea, without sugar, from
little saucers.  I, too, had this celestial drink offered to me
on all sides.  Every Chinese, rich or poor, drinks neither pure
water nor spirituous liquors, but invariably indulges in weak tea with
no sugar.

At a late hour in the evening I retired to my cabin, the roof of
which, not being completely waterproof, let in certain very unwelcome
proofs that it was raining outside.  The captain no sooner remarked
this than he assigned me another place, where I found myself in the
company of two Chinese women, busily engaged in smoking out of pipes
with bowls no bigger than thimbles, and in consequence they could not
take more than four or five puffs without being obliged to fill their
pipes afresh.

They soon remarked that I had no stool for my head.  They offered
me one of theirs, and would not be satisfied until I accepted it. 
It is a Chinese custom to use, instead of pillows, little stools of
bamboo or strong pasteboard.  They are not stuffed, but are rounded
at the top, and are about eight inches high, and from one to three feet
long.  They are far more comfortable than would at first be imagined.

13th July.  On hurrying upon deck early in the morning to view
the mouth of the Si-Kiang, or Tigris, I found that we had already passed
it, and were a long way up the river.  I saw it, however, subsequently,
on my return from Canton to Hong-Kong.  The Si-Kiang, which is
one of the principal rivers of China, and which, at a short distance
before entering the sea, is eight nautical miles broad, is so contracted
by hills and rocks at its mouth, that it loses one half of its breadth. 
The surrounding country is fine, and a few fortifications on the summits
of some of the hills, give it rather a romantic appearance.

Near Hoo-man, or Whampoa, the stream divides into several branches;
that which flows to Canton being called the Pearl stream.  Although
Whampoa of itself is an insignificant place, it is worthy of note, as
being the spot where, from the shallowness of the water, all deeply
laden ships are obliged to anchor.

Immense plantations of rice, skirted by bananas and other fruit-trees,
extend along the banks of the Pearl stream.  The trees are sometimes
prettily arranged in alleys, but are planted far less for ornament than
for use.  Rice always requires a great deal of moisture, and the
trees are planted in order to impart a greater degree of solidity to
the soil, and also to prevent the possibility of its being washed away
by the force of the stream.  Pretty little country houses of the
genuine Chinese pattern, with their sloping, pointed, indented roofs,
and their coloured tiles inlaid with different hues, were scattered
here and there, under groups of shady trees, while pagodas (called Tas)
of various styles, and from three to nine stories high, raised their
heads on little eminences in the neighbourhood of the villages, and
attracted attention at a great distance.  A number of fortifications,
which, however, look more like roofless houses than anything else, protect
the stream.

For miles below Canton, the villages follow one another in quick
succession.  They are mostly composed of miserable huts, built
for the most part on piles driven into the river, and before them lie
innumerable boats, which also serve as dwellings.

The nearer we approached Canton, the busier became the scene on the
river, and the greater the number of ships and inhabited boats. 
I saw some junks of most extraordinary shape, having poops that hung
far over the water, and provided with large windows and galleries, and
covered in with a roof, like a house.  These vessels are often
of immense size, and of a thousand tons’ burden.  I also
saw some Chinese men-of-war, flat, broad, and long, and mounting twenty
or thirty cannons. {93} 
Another object of interest was the mandarins’ boats, with their
painted sides, doors, and windows, their carved galleries, and pretty
little silk flags, giving them the appearance of the most charming houses;
but what delighted me most was the flower-boats, with their upper galleries
ornamented with flowers, garlands, and arabesques.  A large apartment
and a few cabinets, into which the interior is divided, are reached
through doors and windows which have almost a Gothic appearance. 
Mirrors and silk hangings adorn the walls, while glass chandeliers and
coloured paper lanterns, between which swing lovely little baskets with
fresh flowers, complete the magic scene.

These flower-boats are always stationary, and are frequented by the
Chinese as places of amusement, both by day and night.  Plays are
acted here, and ballets and conjuring performed.  Women, with the
exception of a certain class, do not frequent these places; Europeans
are not exactly prevented from entering them, but are exposed, especially
in the present unfavourable state of public opinion, to insult and even
injury.

In addition to these extraordinary vessels, let the reader picture
to himself thousands of small boats (schampans), some at anchor, some
crossing and passing in all directions, with fishermen casting their
nets, and men and children amusing themselves by swimming, and he will
have some idea of the scene I witnessed.  I often could not avoid
turning away with terror at seeing the little children playing and rolling
about upon the narrow boats, I expected every instant that one or other
of them would certainly fall overboard.  Some parents are cautious
enough to fasten hollow gourds, or bladders filled with air, on their
children’s backs, until they are six years old, so as to prevent
them sinking so quickly, if they should happen to tumble into the water.

All these multifarious occupations—this ceaseless activity,
this never-ending bustle, form so peculiar a feature, that it is hardly
possible for a person who has not been an eye-witness to obtain a correct
idea of it.

It is only during the last few years that we European women have
been allowed to visit or remain in the factories at Canton.  I
left the vessel without any apprehension; but first, I had to consider
how I should find my way to the house of a gentleman named Agassiz,
for whom I had brought letters of recommendation.  I explained
to the captain, by signs, that I had no money with me, and that he must
act as my guide to the factory, where I would pay him.  He soon
understood me, and conducted me to the place, and the Europeans there
showed me the particular house I wanted.

On seeing me arrive, and hearing the manner in which I had travelled,
and the way that I had walked from the vessel to his house, Mr. Agassiz
was extremely surprised, and would hardly credit that I had met with
no difficulties or injury.  From him I learned what risks I, as
a woman, had run in traversing the streets of Canton with no escort
but a Chinese guide.  Such a thing had never occurred before, and
Mr. Agassiz assured me that I might esteem myself as exceedingly fortunate
in not having been insulted by the people in the grossest manner, or
even stoned.  Had this been the case, he told me that my guide
would have immediately taken to flight, and abandoned me to my fate.

I had certainly remarked, on my way from the vessel to the factory,
that both old and young turned back to look after me, and that they
hooted and pointed at me with their fingers; the people ran out of the
booths, and gradually formed a crowd at my heels.  I had, however,
no alternative but to preserve my countenance; I walked, therefore,
calmly on, and perhaps it is to the very fact of my manifesting no fear
that I escaped unmolested.

I had not intended to stop long in Canton, as, since the last war
between the English and Chinese, Europeans are obliged to be more careful
than ever how they show themselves in public.  This hatred is more
especially directed against women, as it is declared in one of the Chinese
prophecies that a woman will some day or other conquer the Celestial
Empire.  On account of this, I entertained but slight hopes of
seeing anything here, and thought of proceeding directly to the port
of Shanghai, in the north of China, where, as I was informed, it was
far easier to obtain access both among the nobility and lower classes. 
Fortunately, however, I made the acquaintance of a German gentleman,
Herr von Carlowitz, who had been settled for some time in Canton. 
He offered, in the kindest manner, to act as my Mentor, on condition
that I should arm myself with patience until the mail from Europe, which
was expected in a few days, had come in. {95} 
At such times the merchants are so busy and excited, that they have
no leisure to think of anything but their correspondence.  I was,
therefore, obliged to wait, not only until the steamer had arrived,
but until it had left again, which it did not do until a week had elapsed. 
I have to thank Mr. Agassiz that the time did not hang heavily upon
my hands; I was most kindly and hospitably entertained, and enjoyed
the opportunity of noting the mode of life of those Europeans who have
settled in the country.

Very few take their families with them to China, and least of all
to Canton, where both women and children are closely imprisoned in their
houses, which they can only leave in a well-closed litter.  Besides
this, everything is so dear, that living in London is cheap in comparison. 
Lodgings of six rooms, with a kitchen, cost about 700 or 800 dollars
a-year (£140 or £160).  A man-servant receives from
four to eight dollars a-month, and female servants nine or ten dollars,
as Chinese women will not wait upon a European unless greatly overpaid. 
In addition to all this, there is a custom prevalent here, of having
a separate person for each branch of household duty, which renders a
large number of servants indispensable.

A family of only four persons requires at least eleven or twelve
domestics, if not more.  In the first place, every member of the
family must have an attendant especially for his or her use; then there
is a man-cook, a number of nursery-maids, and several coolies for the
more menial duties, such as cleaning the rooms, carrying the wood and
water, and so forth.  In spite of this number of servants, the
attendance is frequently very bad; for, if one or other of them happens
to be out, and his services are required, his master must wait until
he returns, as no servant could ever be prevailed upon to do another’s
duty.

At the head of the whole household is the comprador, who is a kind
of major-domo.  To his care are confided all the plate, furniture,
linen, and other effects; he engages all the servants, provides for
their board, and anything else they may require, and answers for their
good conduct, deducting, however, two dollars a-month from the wages
of each, in return for his services.  He makes all the purchases,
and settles all the bills, giving in the sum total at the end of the
month, without descending into the items.

Besides these domestic duties, the comprador is also entrusted with
the money belonging to his master’s firm; hundreds of thousands
of dollars pass through his hands, and he is responsible for the genuineness
of every one.  He has persons in his own employment who pay and
receive all monies, and who examine and test every separate coin with
the most marvellous rapidity.  They take a whole handful of dollars
at a time, and toss them up separately with the finger and thumb: this
enables them to determine whether each “rings” properly,
and on the coin falling into their hand again, reversed, they examine
the second side with a glance.  A few hours are sufficient to pass
several thousand dollars in review; and this minute inspection is very
necessary, on account of the number of false dollars made by the Chinese. 
Each piece of money is then stamped with the peculiar mark of the firm,
as a guarantee of its genuineness, so that it at last becomes exceedingly
thin and broad, and frequently falls to bits; no loss is, however, occasioned
by this, as the amount is always reckoned by weight.  Besides dollars,
little bars of pure unstamped silver are used as a circulating medium;
small portions, varying in size, being cut off them, according to the
sum required.  The counting-house is situated on the ground floor,
in the comprador’s room.  The Europeans have nothing to do
with the money, and, in fact, never even carry any for their private
use.

The comprador has no fixed salary, but receives a stated per-centage
upon all business transactions: his per-centage upon the household expenses
is not fixed, but is not on that account less certain.  On the
whole, these compradors are very trustworthy.  They pay down a
certain sum, as caution-money, to some mandarin, and the latter answers
for them.

The following is a tolerably correct account of the mode of life
pursued by the Europeans settled here.  As soon as they are up,
and have drunk a cup of tea in their bed-room, they take a cold bath. 
A little after 9 o’clock, they breakfast upon fried fish or cutlets,
cold roast meat, boiled eggs, tea, and bread and butter.  Every
one then proceeds to his business until dinner-time, which is generally
4 o’clock.  The dinner is composed of turtle-soup, curry,
roast meat, hashes, and pastry.  All the dishes, with the exception
of the curry, are prepared after the English fashion, although the cooks
are Chinese.  For dessert there is cheese, with fruit; such as
pine-apples, long-yen, mangoes, and lytchi.  The Chinese affirm
that the latter is the finest fruit in the whole world.  It is
about the size of a nut, with a brown verrucous outside; the edible
part is white and tender, and the kernel black.  Long-yen is somewhat
smaller, but is also white and tender, though the taste is rather watery. 
Neither of these fruits struck me as very good.  I do not think
the pine-apples are so sweet, or possessed of that aromatic fragrance
which distinguishes those raised in our European greenhouses, although
they are much larger.

Portuguese wines and English beer are the usual drinks—ice,
broken into small pieces, and covered up with a cloth, is offered with
each.  The ice is rather a costly article, as it has to be brought
from North America.  In the evening, tea is served up.

During meal-times, a large punkah is employed to diffuse an agreeable
degree of coolness through the apartment.  The punkah is a large
frame, from eight to ten feet long, and three feet high, covered with
white Indian cloth, and fastened to the ceiling.  A rope communicates,
through the wall, like a bell-pull, with the next room, or the ground
floor, where a servant is stationed to keep it constantly in motion,
and thus maintain a pleasing draught.

As may be seen from what I have said, the living here is very dear
for Europeans.  The expense of keeping a house may be reckoned
at 30,000 francs (6,000 dollars—£1,200) at the lowest; a
very considerable sum, when we reflect how little it procures, neither
including a carriage nor horses.  There is nothing in the way of
amusement, or places of public recreation; the only pleasure many gentlemen
indulge in, is keeping a boat, for which they pay 28s. a-month, or they
walk in the evenings in a small garden, which the European inhabitants
have laid out at their own cost.  This garden faces the factory,
surrounded on three sides by a wall, and, on the fourth, washed by the
Pearl stream.

The living of the Chinese population, on the contrary, costs very
little; 60 cash, 1,200 of which make a dollar (4s.), may be reckoned
a very liberal daily allowance for each man.  As a natural consequence,
wages are extremely low; a boat, for instance, may be hired for half
a dollar (2s.) a-day, and on this income, a whole family of from six
to eight persons will often exist.  It is true, the Chinese are
not too particular in their food; they eat dogs, cats, mice, and rats,
the intestines of birds, and the blood of every animal, and I was even
assured that caterpillars and worms formed part of their diet. 
Their principal dish, however, is rice, which is not only employed by
them in the composition of their various dishes, but supplies the place
of bread.  It is exceedingly cheap; the pekul, which is equal to
124 lbs. English avoirdupois, costing from one dollar and three-quarters
to two dollars and a half.

The costume of both sexes, among the lower orders, consists of broad
trousers and long upper garments, and is remarkable for its excessive
filth.  The Chinaman is an enemy of baths and washing; he wears
no shirt, and does not discard his trousers until they actually fall
off his body.  The men’s upper garments reach a little below
the knee, and the women’s somewhat lower.  They are made
of nankeen, or dark blue, brown, or black silk.  During the cold
season, both men and women wear one summer-garment over the other, and
keep the whole together with a girdle; during the great heat, however,
they allow their garments to flutter unconstrained about their body.

All the men have their heads shaved, with the exception of a small
patch at the back, the hair on which is carefully cultivated and plaited
into a cue.  The thicker and longer this cue is, the prouder is
its owner; false hair and black ribbon are consequently worked up in
it, so that it often reaches down to the ankles.  During work,
it is twisted round the neck, but, on the owner’s entering a room,
it is let down again, as it would be against all the laws of etiquette
and politeness for a person to make his appearance with his cue twisted
up.  The women wear all their hair, which they comb entirely back
off their forehead, and fasten it in most artistic plaits to the head;
they spend a great deal of time in the process, but when their hair
is once dressed, it does not require to be touched for a whole week. 
Both men and women sometimes go about with no covering at all on their
head; sometimes they wear hats made of thin bamboo, and very frequently
three feet in diameter; these keep off both sun and rain, and are exceedingly
durable.

On their feet they wear sewed stockings and shoes, formed of black
silk, or some material like worsted; the soles, which are more than
an inch thick, are made up of layers of strong pasteboard or felt pasted
together.  The poor people go barefooted.

The houses of the lower classes are miserable hovels, built of wood
or brick.  The internal arrangements are very wretched: the whole
furniture consists of a worthless table, a few chairs, and two or three
bamboo-mats, stools for the head, and old counterpanes; yet, with this
poverty, there are always sure to be some pots of flowers.

The cheapest mode of living is on board a boat.  The husband
goes on shore to his work, and leaves his wife to make a trifle by ferrying
persons over, or letting out the boat to pleasure parties.  One
half the boat belongs to the family themselves, and the other half to
the persons to whom they let it; and although there is not much room,
the whole boat measuring scarcely twenty-five feet in length, the greatest
order and cleanliness is everywhere apparent, as each single plank on
board is thoroughly scrubbed and washed every morning.  Great ingenuity
is displayed in turning every inch of space on board these small craft
to advantage, and the dexterity is actually pushed so far as to find
room for a tiny domestic altar.  During the day all the cookery
and washing is done, and though at the latter process there is no want
of little children, the temporary tenant of the boat does not suffer
the least annoyance; nothing offensive meets his eye; and, at the most,
he merely hears at rare intervals the whining voice of some poor little
wretch.  The youngest child is generally tied on its mother’s
back while she steers; the elder children, too, have sometimes similar
burdens, but jump and climb about without the least consideration for
them.  It has often grieved me to the heart to see the head of
an infant scarcely born, thrown from one side to the other with each
movement of the child that was carrying it, or the sun darting so fiercely
on the poor little creature, who was completely exposed to its rays,
that it could hardly open its eyes.  For those who have not been
themselves witnesses of the fact, it is almost impossible to form an
idea of the indigence and poverty of a Chinese boat-family.

The Chinese are accused of killing numbers of their new-born or weakly
children.  They are said to suffocate them immediately after their
birth, and then throw them into the river, or expose them in the streets—by
far the most horrible proceeding of the two, on account of the number
of swine and houseless dogs, who fall upon, and voraciously devour,
their prey.  The most frequent victims are the female infants,
as parents esteem themselves fortunate in possessing a large number
of male children, the latter being bound to support them in their old
age; the eldest son, in fact, should the father die, is obliged to take
his place, and provide for his brothers and sisters, who, on their part,
are bound to yield implicit obedience, and show him the greatest respect. 
These laws are very strictly observed, and any one infringing them is
punished with death.

The Chinese consider it a great honour to be a grandfather, and every
man who is fortunate enough to be one wears a moustache, as the distinctive
sign of his good luck.  These thin grey moustaches are the more
conspicuous, as the young men not only wear none, but, as a general
rule, grow no beard at all.

With regard to the social manners and customs of the Chinese, I am
only able to mention a few, as it is exceedingly difficult, and, in
fact, almost impossible, for a foreigner to become acquainted with them. 
I endeavoured to see as much as I could, and mixed on every possible
opportunity among the people, afterwards writing down a true account
of what I had seen.

On going out one morning, I met more than fifteen prisoners, all
with a wooden yoke (can-gue) about their necks, being led through
the streets.  This yoke is composed of two large pieces of wood,
fitting into one another, and having from one to three holes in them;
through these holes the head, and one or both hands, are stuck, in proportion
to the importance of the offence.  A yoke of this description varies
in weight from fifty to a hundred pounds, and presses so heavily upon
the neck and shoulders of the poor wretch who bears it, that he is unable
to convey his victuals to his mouth himself, and is compelled to wait
till some compassionate soul feeds him.  This punishment lasts
from a few days to several months; in the latter case the prisoner generally
dies.

Another description of punishment is the bastinado with the bamboo,
which, when applied to the more tender parts of the body, very often,
as early as the fifteenth blow, frees its victim for ever from all his
earthly sufferings.  Other more severe punishments, which in no
way yield the palm to those of the Holy Inquisition, consist in flaying
the prisoner alive, crushing his limbs, cutting the sinews out of his
feet, and so on.  Their modes of carrying out the sentence of death
appear to be mild in comparison, and are generally confined to strangling
and decapitation, although, as I was informed, in certain extraordinary
cases, the prisoner is executed by being sawed in two, or left to die
of starvation.  In the first case, the unhappy victim is made fast
between two planks, and sawed in two longitudinally, beginning with
the head; and, in the second, he is either buried up to his head in
the ground, and thus left to perish of want, or else is fastened in
one of the wooden yokes I have described, while his food is gradually
reduced in quantity every day, until at last it consists of only a few
grains of rice.  In spite of the horrible and cruel nature of these
punishments, it is said that individuals are found ready, for a sum
of money, to undergo them all, death even included, instead of the person
condemned.

In the year 1846, 4,000 people were beheaded at Canton.  It
is true that they were the criminals of two provinces, which together
numbered a population of 9,000,000 souls, but the number is still horrible
to contemplate.  Is it possible that there could really be so many
who should be looked upon as criminals—or are persons sentenced
to death for a mere nothing—or are both these suppositions true?

I once happened to go near the place of execution, and to my horror
beheld a long row of still bleeding heads exposed upon high poles. 
The relations enjoy the privilege of carrying away and interring the
bodies.

There are several different religions in China, the most prevalent
being Buddhism.  It is marked by great superstition and idolatry,
and is mostly confined to the lower classes.  The most natural
is that of the wise Confucius, which is said to be the religion of the
court, the public functionaries, the scholars, and educated classes.

The population of China is composed of a great many very different
races: unfortunately, I am unable to describe their several characteristics,
as my stay in China was far too short.  The people I saw in Canton,
Hong-Kong, and Macao, are of middling stature.  Their complexion
varies with their occupation: the peasants and labourers are rather
sun-burnt; rich people and ladies white.  Their faces are flat,
broad, and ugly; their eyes are narrow, rather obliquely placed, and
far apart; their noses broad, and their mouth large.  Their fingers
I observed were in many cases extremely long and thin; only the rich
(of both sexes) allow their nails to grow to an extraordinary length,
as a proof that they are not obliged, like their poorer brethren, to
gain their livelihood by manual labour.  These aristocratic nails
are generally half an inch long, though I saw one man whose nails were
quite an inch in length, but only on his left hand.  With this
hand it was impossible for him to raise any flat object, except by laying
his hand flat upon it, and catching hold of it between his fingers.

The women of the higher classes are generally inclined to corpulency,
a quality which is highly esteemed not in women alone, but in men as
well.

Although I had heard a great deal about the small feet of Chinese
women, I was greatly astonished at their appearance.  Through the
kind assistance of a missionary’s lady (Mrs. Balt) I was enabled
to behold one of these small feet in naturâ.  Four
of the toes were bent under the sole of the foot, to which they were
firmly pressed, and with which they appeared to be grown together; the
great toe was alone left in its normal state.  The fore-part of
the foot had been so compressed with strong broad bandages, that instead
of expanding in length and breadth, it had shot upwards and formed a
large lump at the instep, where it made part and parcel of the leg;
the lower portion of the foot was scarcely four inches long, and an
inch and a half broad.  The feet are always swathed in white linen
or silk, bound round with silk bandages and stuffed into pretty little
shoes, with very high heels.

To my astonishment these deformed beings tripped about, as if in
defiance of us broad-footed creatures, with tolerable ease, the only
difference in their gait being that they waddled like geese; they even
ran up and down stairs without the aid of a stick.

The only persons exempted from this Chinese method of improving their
beauty are girls of the lowest class—that is, those who live in
boats; in families of rank they are all subject to the same fate; while
in those of the middle classes, as a general rule, it is limited to
the eldest daughter.

The worth of a bride is reckoned by the smallness of her feet.

This process of mutilation is not commenced immediately the child
is born, but is deferred until the end of the first, or sometimes even
third year, nor is the foot after the operation forced into an iron
shoe, as many have affirmed, but merely firmly compressed with bandages.

The religion of the Chinese allows them to have a number of wives,
but in this respect they are far behind the Mahomedans.  The richest
have rarely more than from six to twelve, while poor persons content
themselves with one.

I visited during my stay in Canton as many workshops of the different
artists as I could.  My first visit was to the most celebrated
painters, and I must frankly own, that the vividness and splendour of
their colouring struck me exceedingly.  These qualities are generally
ascribed to the rice paper on which they paint, and which is of the
greatest possible fineness, and as white as milk.

The paintings upon linen and ivory differ very little, as far as
the colouring is concerned, from those of our European artists, and
the difference is therefore the more visible in their composition, and
perspective, which, with the Chinese, are yet in a state of infancy. 
This is more especially true of perspective.  The figures and objects
in the back-ground rival in size and brilliancy those in front, while
rivers or seas float in the place which should be occupied by clouds. 
On the other hand, the native artists can copy admirably, {101}
and even take likenesses.  I saw some portraits so strikingly well
drawn, and admirably coloured, that first-rate European artists need
not have been ashamed to own them.

The Chinese possess marvellous skill in carving ivory, tortoiseshell,
and wood.  Among the superior black lacquered articles, especially
with flat or raised gold ornaments, I observed some, which were worthy
of a place in the most valuable collections of objects of vertu
I saw some small work-tables worth at least 600 dollars (£120). 
The baskets and carpets, made from the bamboo, are also remarkably beautiful.

They are, however, far behind-hand in gold or silver work, which
is generally heavy and tasteless; but then again, they have attained
great celebrity by their porcelain, which is remarkable not only for
its size, but for its transparency.  It is true that vases and
other vessels four feet high are neither light nor transparent; but
cups and other small objects can only be compared to glass for fineness
and transparency.  The colours on them are very vivid, but the
drawings very stiff and bad.

In the manufacture of silks and crape shawls, the Chinese are unsurpassable;
the latter especially, in beauty, tastefulness, and thickness, are far
preferable to those made in England or France.

The knowledge of music, on the other hand, is so little developed,
that our good friends of the Celestial Empire might almost, in this
respect, be compared to savages—not that they have no instruments,
but they do not know how to use them.  They possess violins, guitars,
lutes (all with strings or wires), dulcimers, wind instruments, ordinary
and kettle-drums, and cymbals, but are neither skilled in composition,
melody, nor execution.  They scratch, scrape, and thump upon their
instruments in such a manner, as to produce the finest marrowbone-and-cleaver
kind of music imaginable.  During my excursions up and down the
Pearl stream, I had frequent opportunities of hearing artistic performances
of this description on board the mandarin and flower-boats.

In all kinds of deception the Chinese are great adepts, and decidedly
more than a match for any Europeans.  They have not the slightest
sense of honour, and if you detect them, content themselves with saying:
“You are more clever or cunning than I.”  I was told
that when they have any live stock, such as calves or pigs, for sale,
they compel them, as they are disposed of by weight, to swallow stones
or large quantities of water.  They also know how to blow out and
dress stale poultry, so as to make it look quite fresh and plump.

But it is not the lower classes alone that indulge in cheating and
fraud; these agreeable qualities are shared by the highest functionaries. 
It is a well-known fact, for instance, that there are nowhere so many
pirates as in the Chinese sea, especially in the vicinity of Canton;
yet no measures are taken to punish or extirpate them, simply because
the mandarins do not think it beneath their dignity to secretly share
in the profits.

For example, though the opium trade is forbidden, so much of this
drug is smuggled in every year, that it is said to exceed in value that
of all the tea exported in the same period. {102a} 
The merchants enter into a private understanding with the officers and
mandarins, agreeing to give them a certain sum for every pikul,
and it is no rare occurrence for a mandarin to land whole cargoes under
the protection of his own flag.

In like manner there is said to be on one of the islands near Hong-Kong
a very extensive manufactory of false money, which is allowed to be
carried on without any interruption, as it pays a tribute to the public
functionaries and mandarins.  A short time ago, a number of pirate
vessels that had ventured too near Canton, were shot into and sunk,
the crews lost, and their leader taken.  The owners of the vessels
petitioned the government to set the prisoners free, and threatened,
in case of a refusal, to make extensive disclosures.  Every one
was convinced that a sum of money accompanied this threatening letter,
for shortly after it was reported that the prisoner had escaped.

I myself was witness of a circumstance in Canton, which caused me
great uneasiness, and was a pretty good proof of the helplessness or
apathy of the Chinese government.

On the 8th of August, Mr. Agassiz set out with a friend, intending
to return the same evening.  I was left at home alone with the
Chinese servants.  Mr. Agassiz did not return at the appointed
time.  At last, about 1 o’clock the next morning, I suddenly
heard voices in loud conversation, and a violent knocking at the street
door.  I at first supposed it to be Mr. Agassiz, and felt much
surprise at the late hour of his arrival, but I soon perceived that
the disturbance was not in our house, but in that on the opposite side
of the way.  It is easy to fall into an error of this description,
as the houses are situated quite close to each other, and windows are
left open day and night.  I heard voices exclaim, “Get up,—dress!”
and then, “It is horrible—shocking—good heavens?—where
did it happen?”—I sprang quickly out of bed and huddled
on my gown, thinking either that a fire had broken out in some house
or other, or that the people had risen in insurrection. {102b}

Seeing a gentleman at one of the windows, I called and inquired of
him what was the matter.  He told me hurriedly that intelligence
had just arrived that two of his friends who were proceeding to Hong-Kong
(Whampoa lay on the road) had been attacked by pirates, and that one
was killed and the other wounded.  He then immediately retired,
so that I was unable to learn the name of the unfortunate victim, and
was left all night a prey to the greatest anxiety lest it should be
Mr. Agassiz.

Fortunately, this at least was not the case, as Mr. Agassiz returned
at 5 o’clock in the morning.  I then learned that this misfortune
had happened to Monsieur Vauchée, a Swiss gentleman, who had
passed many an evening in our house.  On the very day of his departure,
I met him at a neighbour’s, where we had all been in the highest
spirits, singing songs and quartettes.  At 9 o’clock he went
on board the boat, set off at 10, and a quarter of an hour afterwards,
in the midst of thousands of schampans and other craft, met his tragical
end.

Monsieur Vauchée had intended to proceed to Hong-Kong, and
there embark on board a larger vessel for Shanghai; {103}
he took with him Swiss watches to the value of 40,000 francs (£1,600),
and, in speaking to a friend, congratulated himself on the cautious
manner he had packed them up, without letting his servants know anything
about it.  This, however, could not have been the case: and, as
the pirates have spies among the servants in every house, they were
unfortunately but too well acquainted with the circumstance.

During my stay in Canton, the house of a European was pulled down
by the populace, because it stood upon a piece of ground which, though
Europeans were allowed to occupy, they had not hitherto built upon.

In this manner there was hardly a day that we did not hear of acts
of violence and mischief, so that we were in a continual state of apprehension,
more especially as the report of the near approach of a revolution,
in which all the Europeans were to perish, was everywhere bruited about. 
Many of the merchants had made every preparation for instant flight,
and muskets, pistols, and swords were neatly arranged ready for use
in most of the counting-houses.  Luckily, the time fixed for the
revolution passed over, without the populace fulfilling its threats.

The Chinese are cowardly in the highest degree; they talk very large
when they are certain they have nothing to fear.  For instance,
they are always ready to stone, or even kill, a few defenceless individuals,
but if they have to fear any opposition, they are sure not to commence
the attack.  I believe that a dozen good European soldiers would
put to flight more than a hundred Chinese.  I myself never met
with a more dastardly, false, and, at the same time, cruel race, in
my life; one proof of this is, that their greatest pleasure consists
in torturing animals.

In spite of the unfavourable disposition of the populace, I ventured
out a good deal.  Herr von Carlowitz was untiring in his kindness
to me, and accompanied me everywhere, exposing himself to many dangers
on my account, and bearing patiently the insults of the populace, who
followed at our heels, and loudly expressed their indignation at the
boldness of the European woman in thus appearing in public.  Through
his assistance, I saw more than any woman ever yet saw in China.

Our first excursion was to the celebrated Temple of Honan, which
is said to be one of the finest in China.

This temple is surrounded by numerous out-buildings, and a large
garden enclosed with a high wall.  You first enter a large fore-court,
at the extremity of which a colossal gateway leads into the inner courts. 
Under the archway of this portico are two War Gods, each eighteen feet
high, in menacing attitudes, and with horribly distorted features. 
They are placed there to prevent evil spirits from entering.  A
second similar portico, under which are the four Celestial Kings, leads
into the inmost court, where the principal temple is situated. 
The interior of the temple is 100 feet in length, and 100 feet in breadth. 
The flat roof, from which hang a number of glass chandeliers, lamps,
artificial flowers, and silk ribbons, is supported upon several rows
of wooden pillars, while the multitude of statues, altars, flower-pots,
censers, candelabra, candlesticks, and other ornaments, involuntarily
suggest to the mind of the spectator the decoration of a Roman Catholic
church.

In the foreground are three altars, and behind these three statues,
representing the God Buddha in three different aspects: the past, the
present, and the future.  These figures, which are in a sitting
posture, are of colossal dimensions.

We happened to visit the temple just as service was being performed. 
It was a kind of mass for the dead, which a mandarin had ordered for
his deceased wife.  At the right and left altars were the priests,
whose garments and gesticulations also resembled those of the Roman
Catholics.  At the middle altar was the mandarin, piously engaged
in prayer, while two stood beside him, fanning him with large fans.
{104}  He
frequently kissed the ground, and every time he did so, three wax tapers
were presented to him, which he first elevated in the air, and then
gave to one of the priests, who placed them before a statue of Buddha,
but without lighting them.  The music was performed by three men,
one of whom twanged a stringed instrument, while the second struck a
metal globe, and the third played the flute.

Besides the principal temple there are various smaller ones, and
halls, all adorned with statues of gods.  Especial honour is paid
to the twenty-four Gods of Pity, and to Kwanfootse, a demi-god of War. 
Many of the former have four, six, and even eight arms.  All these
divinities, Buddha himself not excepted, are made of wood, gilt over,
and painted with glazing colours.

In the Temple of Mercy we met with an adventure which was nearly
attended with unpleasant consequences.  A priest, or bonze,
handed us some little tapers for us to light and offer to his divinity. 
Herr von Carlowitz and myself had already got the tapers in our hands,
and were quite willing to afford him this gratification, when an American
missionary, who was with us, tore the tapers from our grasp, and indignantly
returned them to the priest, saying, that what we were about to do was
an act of idolatry.  The priest took the matter very seriously,
and, instantly closing the doors, called his companions, who hurried
in from all sides, and abused us in the most violent and vociferous
fashion, pressing closer every instant.  It was with the greatest
difficulty that we succeeded in fighting our way to the door, and thus
making our escape.

After this little fray, our guide conducted us to the dwelling of
the Holy—Pigs! {105} 
A beautiful stone hall is set apart for their use, which hall these
remarkable divinities fill, in spite of all the care bestowed on them,
with so horrible a stench, that it is impossible to approach them without
holding one’s nose.  They are taken care of and fed until
death summons them away.  When we visited the place there were
only a pair of these fortunate beings, and their number rarely exceeds
three couples.

I was better pleased with the residence of a bonze, which adjoined
this holy spot.  It consisted of a sitting-room and bed-room merely,
but was very comfortably and elegantly fitted up.  The walls of
the sitting-room were ornamented with carved wood-work, and the furniture
was old-fashioned and pleasing: at the back of the apartment, which
was flagged, stood a small altar.

We here saw an opium-eater, lying stretched out upon a mat on the
floor.  At his side was a cup of tea, with some fruit and a little
lamp, besides several pipes, with bowls that were smaller than a thimble. 
On our entrance, he was just inhaling the intoxicating smoke from one
of them.  It is said that some of the Chinese opium smokers consume
from twenty to thirty grains a-day.  As he was not altogether unconscious
of our presence, he managed to raise himself, laid by his pipe, and
dragged himself to a chair.  His eyes were fixed and staring, and
his face deadly pale, presenting altogether a most pitiable and wretched
spectacle.

Last of all, we were conducted to the garden, where the bonzes, at
their death, are burnt—a particular mark of distinction, as all
other people are interred.  A simple mausoleum, about thirty feet
square, and a few small private monuments, were all that was to be seen. 
None of them had any pretensions to elegance, being built of the simplest
masonry.  In the former of these edifices are preserved the bones
of the persons who have been burnt, and among them are also buried the
rich Chinese, whose heirs pay pretty handsomely to obtain such an honour
for them.  At a little distance stands a small tower, eight feet
in diameter and eighteen in height, with a small pit, where a fire can
be kindled, in the floor.  Over this pit is an armchair, to which
the deceased bonze is fastened in full costume.  Logs and dry brushwood
are disposed all round, and the whole is set fire to, and the doors
closed.  In an hour they are again opened, the ashes strewed around
the tower, and the bones preserved until the period for opening the
mausoleum, which is only once every year.

A striking feature in the garden is this beautiful water-rose, or
lotus-flower (nymphæa nelumbo), which was originally a
native of China.  The Chinese admire this flower so much, that
they have ponds dug in their gardens expressly for it.  It is about
six inches in diameter, and generally white—very rarely pale red. 
The seeds resemble in size and taste those of the hazel; and the roots,
when cooked, are said to taste like artichokes.

There are more than a hundred bonzes who reside in the temple of
Honan.  In their ordinary dress, they differ nothing from the common
Chinamen, the only means of recognising them being by their heads, which
are entirely shaved.  Neither these nor any other priests
can boast, as I was told, of being in the least respected by the people.

Our second excursion was to the Half-way Pagoda, so called by the
English from its lying half way between Canton and Whampoa.  We
went up the Pearl stream to it.  It stands upon a small eminence
near a village, in the midst of immense fields of rice, and is composed
of nine stories, 170 feet high.  Its circumference is not very
considerable, but nearly the same all the way up, which gives it the
look of a tower.  I was informed that this pagoda was formerly
one of the most celebrated in China, but it has long ceased to be used. 
The interior was completely empty; there were neither statues nor any
other ornaments; nor were there any floors to prevent the eye from seeing
to the very top.  On the outside, small balconies without railings
surround each story, to which access is gained by steep and narrow flights
of stairs.  These projecting balconies produce a very fine effect,
being built of coloured bricks, very artistically laid, and faced with
variegated tiles.  The bricks are placed in rows, with their points
jutting obliquely outwards, so that the points project about four inches
over one another.  At a distance, the work seems as if it were
half pierced through, and from the beautiful colours and fineness of
the tiles, a person might easily mistake the entire mass for porcelain.

While we were viewing the pagoda, the whole population of the village
had assembled round about us, and as they behaved with tolerable quietness,
we determined on paying a visit to the village itself.  The houses,
or rather huts, were small and built of brick, and with the exception
of their flat roofs, presented nothing peculiar.  The rooms did
not possess a ceiling of their own, but were simply covered by the roof;
the floor was formed of earth closely pressed together, and the internal
walls consisted partly of bamboo-mats.  What little furniture there
was, was exceedingly dirty.  About the middle of the village was
a small temple, with a few lamps burning dimly before the principal
divinity.

What struck me most was the quantity of poultry, both in and out
of the huts, and we had to take the greatest care to avoid treading
on some of the young brood.  The chickens are hatched, as they
are in Egypt, by artificial heat.

On our return from the village to the pagoda, we saw two schampans
run in shore, and a number of swarthy, half-naked, and mostly armed
men jump out, and hasten through the fields of rice directly to where
we were.  We set them down as pirates, and awaited the upshot with
a considerable degree of uneasiness.  We knew that, if we were
right in our supposition, we were lost without hope; for, at the distance
we were from Canton, and entirely surrounded by Chinese, who would have
been but too ready to lend them assistance, it would have been doubly
easy for pirates to dispatch us.  All idea of escape or rescue
was out of the question.

While these thoughts were flashing across our minds, the men kept
approaching us, and at length their leader introduced himself as the
captain of a Siamese man-of-war.  He informed us, in broken English,
that he had not long arrived with the Governor of Bangkok, who was proceeding
for the rest of the way to Pekin by land.  Our fears were gradually
dispelled, and we even accepted the friendly invitation of the captain
to run alongside his ship and view it, on our return.  He came
in the boat with us, and took us on board, where he showed us everything
himself: the sight, however, was not a particularly attractive one. 
The crew looked very rough and wild; they were all dressed in a most
slovenly and dirty manner, so that it was utterly impossible to distinguish
the officers from the common men.  The vessel mounted twelve guns
and sixty-eight hands.

The captain set before us Portuguese wine and English beer, and the
evening was far advanced before we reached home.

The longest trip that can be made from Canton is one twenty miles
up the Pearl stream, and Mr. Agassiz was kind enough to procure me this
pleasure.  He hired a good boat, which he furnished abundantly
with eatables and drinkables, and invited a missionary, who had made
the trip several times, Herr von Carlowitz, and myself.  The company
of a missionary is as yet by far the safest escort in China.  These
gentlemen speak the language; they become gradually acquainted with
the people, and travel about, with hardly any obstacle to speak of,
all round the vicinity of Canton.

About a week before we had decided on going, a few young gentlemen
had endeavoured to make the same excursion, but had been fired upon
from one of the fortresses that lie on the banks of the river, and compelled
to turn back half-way.  When we approached the fortress in question,
the crew of our boat refused to proceed any further, until we had almost
employed violence to make them do so.  We also were fired into,
but fortunately not until we were more than half past the fortress. 
Having escaped the danger, we pursued our course without further interruption,
landed at several hamlets, visited the so-called Herren Pagoda, and
took a good view of everything that was to be seen.  The scenery
all round was charming, and displayed to our view large plains with
rice, sugar, and tea-plantations, picturesque clumps of trees, lovely
hills, and more elevated mountain ranges rising in the distance. 
On the declivities of the hills, we beheld a number of graves, which
were marked by single, upright stones.

The Herren Pagoda has three stories, with a pointed roof, and is
distinguished for its external sculpture.  It has no balconies
outside, but, instead of this, a triple wreath of leaves round each
story.  In the first and second story, to which access is gained
by more than usually narrow stairs, are some small altars with carved
idols.  We were not allowed to go into the third story, under the
excuse that there was nothing to be seen there.

The villages we visited, resembled more or less, that we had seen
near the Half-way Pagoda.

During this journey I was an eye-witness of the manner in which the
missionaries dispose of their religious tracts.  The missionary
who had been kind enough to accompany us, took this opportunity of distributing
among the natives some seeds that should bring forth good fruit. 
He had 500 tracts on board our boat, and every time that another boat
approached us, a circumstance that was of frequent occurrence, he stretched
himself as far as possible over the side with half a dozen tracts in
his hand, and made signs to the people to approach and take them. 
If people did not obey his summons, we rowed up to them, and the missionary
gratified them with his tracts in dozens, and went his way rejoicing,
in anticipation of the good which he did not doubt they would effect.

Whenever we arrived at a village, however, matters reached even a
higher pitch.  The servant was obliged to carry whole packs of
tracts, which in a moment were distributed among the crowd of curious
who had quickly gathered round us.

Every one took what was offered to him, as it cost nothing, and if
he could not read it—the tracts were in Chinese—he had at
least got so much paper.  The missionary returned home delighted;
he had disposed of his 500 copies.  What glorious news for the
Missionary Society, and what a brilliant article for his religious paper,
he no doubt transmitted to Europe!

Six young Englishmen made this same excursion up the Pearl stream
six months later, stopping at one of the villages and mixing with the
people.  Unhappily, however, they all fell victims to the fanaticism
of the Chinese: they were most barbarously murdered.

There was now no trip of any distance left but one round the walls
of the town of Canton, {108}
properly so called.  This, too, I was shortly enabled to undertake
through the kindness of our good friend the missionary, who offered
to come as guide to Herr von Carlowitz and myself, under the condition,
however, that I should put on male attire.  No woman had ever yet
ventured to make this trip, and he thought that I ought not to venture
in my own dress; I complied with his wish, therefore, and one fine morning
early we set out.

For some distance our road lay through narrow streets or alleys paved
with large flags.  In a small niche somewhere in the front of every
house, we saw little altars from one to three feet high, before which,
as it was yet early, the night lamps were still burning.  An immense
quantity of oil is unnecessarily consumed in keeping up this religious
custom.  The shops now began to be opened.  They resemble
neat entrance halls, having no front wall.  The goods were exposed
for sale either in large open boxes or on tables, behind which the shopkeepers
sit and work.  In one corner of the shop, a narrow staircase leads
up into the dwelling-house above.

Here, as in Turkish towns, the same regulation is observed of each
trade or calling having its especial street, so that in one nothing
but crockery and glass, in another silks, and so on, is to be seen. 
In the physician’s street are situated all the apothecaries’
shops as well, as the two professions are united in one and the same
person.  The provisions, which are very tastily arranged, have
also their separate streets.  Between the houses are frequently
small temples, not differing the least, however, in style from the surrounding
buildings: the gods, too, merely occupy the ground floor, the upper
stories being inhabited by simple mortals.

The bustle in the streets was astonishing, especially in those set
apart for the sale of provisions.  Women and girls of the lower
classes went about making their purchases, just as in Europe. 
They were all unveiled, and some of them waddled like geese, in consequence
of their crippled feet, which, as I before observed, extends to all
ranks.  The crowd was considerably increased by the number of porters,
with large baskets of provisions on their shoulders, running along,
and praising in a loud voice their stock in trade, or warning the people
to make way for them.  At other times, the whole breadth of the
street would be taken up, and the busy stream of human beings completely
stopped by the litter of some rich or noble personage proceeding to
his place of business.  But worse than all were the numerous porters
we met at every step we took, carrying large baskets of unsavoury matter.

It is a well known fact, that there is perhaps no nation on the face
of the earth equal to the Chinese in diligence and industry, or that
profits by, and cultivates, as they do, every available inch of ground. 
As, however, they have not much cattle, and consequently but little
manure, they endeavour to supply the want of it by other means, and
hence their great care of anything that can serve as a substitute.

All their small streets are built against the city walls, so that
we had been going round them for some time before we were aware of the
fact.  Mean-looking gates or wickets, which all foreigners are
strictly prohibited from passing, and which are shut in the evening,
lead into the interior of the town.

I was told that it has often happened for sailors, or other strangers,
during their walks, to penetrate through one of these entrances into
the interior of the town, and not discover their mistake until the stones
began flying about their ears.

After threading our way for at least two miles through a succession
of narrow streets, we at length emerged into the open space, where we
obtained a full view of the city walls, and from the summit of a small
hill which was situated near them, a tolerably extensive one over the
town itself.  The city walls are about sixty feet high, and, for
the most part, so overgrown with grass, creeping plants, and underwood,
that they resemble a magnificent mass of living vegetation.  The
town resembles a chaos of small houses, with now and then a solitary
tree, but we saw neither fine streets nor squares, nor any remarkable
buildings, temples, or pagodas.  A single pagoda, five stories
high, reminded us of the peculiar character of Chinese architecture.

Our road now lay over fertile eminences, varied with fields and meadows
in a high state of cultivation.  Many of the hills are used as
cemeteries, and are dotted over with small mounds of earth, walled in
with stone flags, or rough hewn stones two feet high, frequently covered
with inscriptions.  Family tombs were also to be seen, dug in the
hill, and enclosed with stone walls of the shape of a horse-shoe. 
All the entrances were built up with stone.

The Chinese do not, however, bury all their dead: they have a remarkable
way of preserving them in small stone chambers, consisting of two stone
walls and a roof, while the two other sides are left open.  In
these places, there are never more than from two to four coffins, which
are placed upon wooden benches two feet high: the coffins themselves
consist of massive trunks of trees hollowed out.

The villages through which we passed presented an animated appearance,
but appeared poor and dirty.  We were often obliged to hold our
noses in passing through the lanes and squares, and very frequently
would fain have closed our eyes as well, to avoid the disgusting sight
of people covered with eruptions of the skin, tumours, and boils.

In all the villages I saw poultry and swine in great numbers, but
not more than three horses and a buffalo-cow; both the horses and the
cow were of an extremely small breed.

When we had nearly reached the end of our excursion, we met a funeral. 
A horrible kind of music gave us warning that something extraordinary
was approaching, and we had hardly time to look up and step on one side,
before the procession came flying past us at full speed.  First
came the worthy musicians, followed by a few Chinese, next two empty
litters carried by porters, and then the hollow trunk of a tree, representing
the coffin, hanging to a long pole, and carried in a similar manner:
last of all, were some priests and a crowd of people.

The chief priest wore a kind of white {110}
fool’s cap, with three points; the other persons, who consisted
of men alone, had a kind of white cloth bound round their head or arm.

I was lucky enough to be enabled to visit some of the summer palaces
and gardens of the nobility.

The finest of all was certainly that belonging to the Mandarin Howqua. 
The house itself was tolerably spacious, one story high, with very wide,
splendid terraces.  The windows looked into the inner courts, and
the roof was like those in European buildings, only much flatter. 
The sloping roofs, with their multitude of points and pinnacles, with
their little bells and variegated tiles, are only to be found in the
temples and country-houses, but never in the usual residences. 
At the entrance there were two painted gods: these, according to the
belief of the Chinese, keep off evil spirits.

The front part of the house consisted of several reception rooms,
without front walls, and immediately adjoining them, on the ground floor,
elegant parterres; and on the first floor magnificent terraces, which
were also decorated with flowers, and afforded a most splendid view
over the animated scene on the river, the enchanting scenery around,
and the mass of houses in the villages situated about the walls of Canton.

Neat little cabinets surrounded these rooms, from which they were
only separated by walls that in many cases were adorned with the most
artistic paintings, and through which the eye could easily penetrate. 
The most remarkable of these walls were those composed of bamboos, which
were as delicate as a veil, and plentifully ornamented with painted
flowers, or beautifully written proverbs.

A numberless quantity of chairs and a great many sofas were ranged
along the walls, from which I inferred that the Chinese are as much
accustomed to large assemblages as ourselves.  I observed some
arm-chairs most skilfully cut out of a single piece of wood; others
with seats of beautiful marble-slabs; and others again of fine coloured
tiles or porcelain.  Among various objects of European furniture,
we saw some handsome mirrors, clocks, vases, and tables of Florentine
mosaic, or variegated marble.  There was also a most extraordinary
collection of lamps and lanterns hanging from the ceilings, and consisting
of glass, transparent horn, and coloured gauze or paper, ornamented
with glass beads, fringe, and tassels.  Nor was there any scarcity
of lamps on the walls, so that when the apartments are entirely lighted
up, they must present a fairy-like appearance.

As we had been fortunate enough to reach this house without being
stoned, we were emboldened to visit the Mandarin Howqua’s large
pleasure-garden, situated on a branch of the Pearl stream, about three-quarters
of a mile from the house.  We had, however, hardly entered the
branch of the river, before the crew wanted to turn back, having observed
a mandarin’s junk, with all its flags hoisted, a signal that the
owner himself was on board.  They were unwilling to venture on
conveying us Europeans past the vessel, for fear they should be punished,
or stoned to death, along with ourselves, by the people.  We obliged
them to proceed, passed close by the junk, and then landed, and continued
our excursion on foot.  A large crowd of people soon collected
in our rear, and began pushing the children up against us, in order
to excite our rage; but arming ourselves with patience, we moved quietly
on, and reached, without any accident, the garden gates, which we instantly
closed behind us.

The garden was in a perfect state of cultivation, but without the
least pretension to taste in its arrangement.  On every side were
summer-houses, kiosks, and bridges, and all the paths and open spots
were lined with large and small flower-pots, in which were flowers and
dwarfed fruit-trees of every description.

The Chinese are certainly adepts in the art of diminishing the size
of, or rather crippling their trees, many of which very often scarcely
attain a height of three feet.  These dwarf trees are very prevalent
in their gardens, and preferred to the most magnificent and shady trees
of a natural size.  These lilliputian alleys can hardly be considered
in good taste, but it is most remarkable with what a large quantity
of beautiful fruit the tiny branches are laden.

Besides these toys we also observed figures of all descriptions,
representing ships, birds, fish, pagodas, etc., cut out of foliage. 
In the heads of the animals were stuck eggs, with a black star painted
on them to represent the eyes.

There was also no scarcity of rocks, both single and in groups, ornamented
with flower-pots, as well as little figures of men and animals, which
can be removed at pleasure, so as to form new combinations, a kind of
amusement of which the Chinese ladies are said to be very fond. 
Another source of entertainment, no less popular, as well among the
ladies as the gentlemen, consists in kite-flying, and they will sit
for hours looking at their paper monsters in the air.  There is
a large open spot set apart for this purpose in the garden of every
Chinese nobleman.  We noticed an abundance of running water and
ponds, but we did not observe any fountains.

As everything had passed off so well, Herr von Carlowitz proposed
that we should go and see the garden of the Mandarin Puntiqua, which
I was very anxious to do, as the mandarin had ordered a steam-boat to
be built there by a Chinese, who had resided thirteen years in North
America, where he had studied.

The vessel was so far advanced that it was to be launched in a few
weeks.  The artist showed us his work with great satisfaction,
and was evidently very much pleased at the praise we bestowed upon him
for it.  He attached great importance to his knowledge of the English
language, for when Herr von Carlowitz addressed him in Chinese, he answered
in English, and requested us to continue the conversation in that idiom. 
The machinery struck us as not being constructed with the usual degree
of neatness for which the Chinese are famous, and also appeared far
too large for the small vessel for which it was intended.  Neither
I nor my companion would have had the courage to have gone in her on
her experimental trip.

The mandarin who had the vessel built, had gone to Pekin to obtain
a “button” as his reward for being the first person to launch
a steamer in the Chinese empire.  The builder himself will, in
all probability, be obliged to rest contented with the consciousness
of his talent.

From the ship-yard we proceeded to the garden, which was very large
but greatly neglected.  There were neither alleys nor fruit trees,
rocks nor figures; but, to make up for these, an insufferable quantity
of summer-houses, bridges, galleries, little temples, and pagodas.

The dwelling-house consisted of a large hall and a number of small
chambers.  The walls were ornamented, both inside and out, with
carved wood-work, and the roof abundantly decorated with points and
pinnacles.

In the large halls plays and other entertainments are sometimes enacted
for the amusement of the ladies, who are universally confined to their
houses and gardens, which can only be visited by strangers in their
absence. {112}

A number of peacocks, silver-pheasants, mandarin-ducks, and deer
are preserved in their gardens.  In one corner was a small, gloomy
bamboo plantation, in which were some family graves; and not far off
a small earthen mound had been raised, with a wooden tablet, on which
was a long poetical inscription in honour of the favourite snake of
the mandarin, which was buried there.

After duly inspecting everything, we set off on our road home, and
reached there in safety.

I was not so fortunate a few days later on visiting a tea-factory. 
The proprietor conducted me himself over the workshops, which consisted
of large halls, in which six hundred people, including a great many
old women and children, were at work.  My entrance occasioned a
perfect revolt.  Old and young rose from work, the elder portion
lifting up the younger members of the community in their arms and pointing
at me with their fingers.  The whole mass then pressed close upon
me and raised so horrible a cry that I began to be alarmed.  The
proprietor and his overseer had a difficult task to keep off the crowd,
and begged me to content myself with a hasty glance at the different
objects, and then to quit the building as soon as possible.

In consequence of this I could only manage to observe that the leaves
of the plant are thrown for a few seconds into boiling water, and then
placed in flat iron pans, fixed slantingly in stone-work, where they
are slightly roasted by a gentle heat, during which process they are
continually stirred by hand.  As soon as they begin to curl a little,
they are thrown upon large planks, and each single leaf is rolled together. 
This is effected with such rapidity, that it requires a person’s
undivided attention to perceive that no more than one leaf is rolled
up at a time.  After this, all the leaves are placed once more
in the pan.  Black tea takes some time to roast, and the green
is frequently coloured with Prussian blue, an exceedingly small quantity
of which is added during the second roasting.  Last of all the
tea is once more shaken out upon the large boards, in order that it
may be carefully inspected, and the leaves that are not entirely closed
are rolled over again.

Before I left, the proprietor conducted me into his house, and treated
me to a cup of tea prepared after the fashion in which it is usually
drunk by rich and noble Chinese.  A small quantity was placed in
a China cup, boiling water poured upon it, and the cup then closed with
a tightly-fitting cover.  In a few seconds the tea is then drank
and the leaves left at the bottom.  The Chinese take neither sugar,
rum, nor milk with their tea; they say that anything added to it, and
even the stirring of it, causes it to lose its aroma; in my cup, however,
a little sugar was put.

The tea-plant, which I saw in the plantations round about Canton,
was at most six feet high; it is not allowed to grow any higher, and
is consequently cut at intervals.  Its leaves are used from the
third to the eighth year; and the plant is then cut down, in order that
it may send forth new shoots, or else it is rooted out.  There
are three gatherings in the year; the first in March, the second in
April, and the third, which lasts for three months, in May.  The
leaves of the first gathering are so delicate and fine that they might
easily be taken for the blossom, which has no doubt given rise to the
error that the so-called “bloom or imperial tea” is supposed
not to consist of the leaves but of the blossom itself. {114} 
This gathering is so hurtful to the plant that it often perishes.

I was informed that the tea which comes from the neighbourhood of
Canton is the worst, and that from the provinces somewhat more to the
north the best.  The tea manufacturers of Canton are said to possess
the art of giving tea that has been frequently used, or spoiled by rain,
the appearance of good tea.  They dry and roast the leaves, colour
them yellow with powdered kurkumni, or light green with Prussian blue,
and then roll them tightly up.  The price of the tea sent to Europe
varies from fifteen to sixty dollars (£3 to £12) a pikul,
of 134 lb. English weight.  The kind at sixty dollars does not
find a very ready market; the greater part of it is exported to England. 
The “bloom” is not met with in trade.

I must mention a sight which I accidentally saw, one evening, upon
the Pearl stream.  It was, as I afterwards heard, a thanksgiving
festival in honour of the gods, by the owners of two junks that had
made a somewhat long sea voyage without being pillaged by pirates, or
overtaken by the dangerous typhoon.

Two of the largest flower boats, splendidly illuminated, were floating
gently down the stream.  Three rows of lamps were hung round the
upper part of the vessels, forming perfect galleries of fire; all the
cabins were full of chandeliers and lamps, and on the forecastle large
fires were burning out of which rockets darted at intervals with a loud
report, although they only attained the elevation of a few feet. 
On the foremost vessel there was a large mast erected, and hung with
myriads of coloured paper lamps up to its very top, forming a beautiful
pyramid.  Two boats, abundantly furnished with torches and provided
with boisterous music, preceded these two fiery masses.  Slowly
did they float through the darkness of the night, appearing like the
work of fairy hands.  Sometimes they stopped, when high flames,
fed with holy perfumed paper, flickered upwards to the sky.

Perfumed paper, which must be bought from the priests, is burnt at
every opportunity, and very frequently beforehand, after every prayer. 
From the trade in this paper the greater portion of the priests’
income is derived.

On several occasions, accompanied by Herr von Carlowitz, I took short
walks in the streets near the factory.  I found the greater pleasure
in examining the beautiful articles of Chinese manufacture, which I
could here do at my leisure, as the shops were not so open as those
I saw during my excursion round the walls of Canton, but had doors and
windows like our own, so that I could walk in and be protected from
the pressure of the crowd.  The streets, also, in this quarter
were somewhat broader, well paved, and protected with mats or planks
to keep off the burning heat of the sun.

In the neighbourhood of the factory, namely in Fousch-an, where most
of the manufactories are situated, a great many places may be reached
by water, as the streets, like those in Venice, are intersected by canals. 
This quarter of Canton, however, is not the handsomest, because all
the warehouses are erected on the sides of the canals, where the different
workmen have also taken up their residence in miserable huts that, built
half upon the ground and half upon worm-eaten piles, stretch far out
over the water.

I had now been altogether, from July 13th to August 20th, five weeks
in Canton.  The season was the hottest in the whole year, and the
heat was really insupportable.  In the house, the glass rose as
high as 94½°, and out of doors, in the shade, as high as
99°.  To render this state of things bearable, the inhabitants
use, besides the punkas in the rooms, wicker-work made of bamboo. 
This wicker-work is placed before the windows and doors, or over those
portions of the roofs under which the workshops are situated. 
Even whole walls are formed of it, standing about eight or ten feet
from the real ones, and provided with entrances, window-openings, and
roofs.  The houses are most effectually disguised by it.

On my return to Hong-Kong, I again set out on board a junk, but not
so fearlessly as the first time; the unhappy end of Monsieur Vauchée
was still fresh in my memory.  I took the precaution of packing
up the few clothes and linen I had in the presence of the servants,
that they might be convinced that any trouble the pirates might give
themselves on my account would be thrown away.

On the evening of the 20th of August I bade Canton, and all my friends
there, farewell; and at 9 o’clock I was once again floating down
the Si-Kiang, or Pearl stream, famous for the deeds of horror perpetrated
on it.

CHAPTER IX.  THE EAST INDIES—SINGAPORE.

ARRIVAL IN HONG-KONG—THE ENGLISH STEAMER—SINGAPORE
PLANTATIONS—A HUNTING PARTY IN THE JUNGLE—A CHINESE FUNERAL—THE
FEAST OF LANTERNS—TEMPERATURE AND CLIMATE.

The passage from Canton to Hong-Kong was accomplished without any
circumstance worthy of notice, save the time it took, in consequence
of the prevalence of contrary winds the whole way.  We were, it
is true, woke up the first night by the report of guns; but I expect
they were not fired at us, as we were not molested.  My travelling
companions, the Chinese, also behaved themselves on this occasion with
the greatest politeness and decorum; and, had I been enabled to look
into the future, I would willingly have given up the English steamer
and pursued my journey as far as Singapore on board a junk.  But
as this was impossible, I availed myself of the English steamer, “Pekin,”
of 450 horse-power, Captain Fronson commander, which leaves for Calcutta
every month.

As the fares are most exorbitant, {116}
I was advised to take a third-class ticket, and hire a cabin from one
of the engineers or petty officers; I was greatly pleased with the notion,
and hastened to carry it out.  My astonishment, however, may be
imagined when, on paying my fare, I was told that the third-class passengers
were not respectable, that they were obliged to sleep upon deck, and
that the moon was exceedingly dangerous, etc.  It was in vain that
I replied I was the best judge of my own actions; I was obliged, unless
I chose to remain behind, to pay for one of the second places. 
This certainly gave me a very curious idea of English liberty.

On the 25th of August, at 1 o’clock, P.M., I went on board. 
On reaching the vessel I found no servant in the second places, and
was obliged to ask a sailor to take my luggage into the cabin. 
This latter was certainly anything but comfortable.  The furniture
was of the most common description, the table was covered with stains
and dirt, and the whole place was one scene of confusion.  I inquired
for the sleeping cabin, and found there was but one for both sexes. 
I was told to apply to one of the officials, who would no doubt allow
me to sleep somewhere else.  I did so, and obtained a neat little
cabin in consequence, and the steward was kind enough to propose that
I should take my meals with his wife.  I did not, however, choose
to accept the offer; I paid dearly enough, Heaven knows, and did not
choose to accept everything as a favour.  Besides, this was the
first English steamer I had ever been on board, and I was curious to
learn how second-class passengers were treated.

The company at our table consisted not only of the passengers, of
whom there were three besides myself, but of the cooks and waiters of
the first-class places, as well as of the butcher; or, in a word, of
every one of the attendants who chose to take “pot-luck”
with us.  As for any etiquette in the article of costume, that
was entirely out of the question.  Sometimes one of the company
would appear without either coat or jacket; the butcher was generally
oblivious of his shoes and stockings; and it was really necessary to
be endowed with a ravenous appetite to be enabled to eat anything with
such a set.

The bill of fare was certainly adapted to the crew and their costume,
but decidedly not to the passengers, who had to pay thirteen dollars
(£2 12s.) a day each for provisions.

The table-cloth was full of stains, and, in lieu of a napkin, each
guest was at liberty to use his handkerchief.  The knives and forks
had white and black horn handles, with notched blades, and broken prongs. 
On the first day we had no spoons at all; on the second we had one between
us, and this one was placed on the table in solitary grandeur during
the entire voyage.  There were only two glasses, and those of the
most ordinary description, which circulated from mouth to mouth; as
I was a female, instead of my turn of the glasses, I had, as a peculiar
mark of distinction, an old tea-cup with the handle knocked off.

The head cook, who did the honours, pleaded in excuse for all this
discomfort, that they happened this voyage to be short of servants. 
This struck me as really a little too naïve, for when I
paid my money I paid for what I ought to have then, and not for what
I might have another time.

As I said before, the provisions were execrable; the remnants of
the first cabin were sent to us poor wretches.  Two or three different
things would very often be side by side in the most friendly and brotherly
manner upon one dish, even although their character was widely different;
that was looked upon as a matter of no import, which was also the case
as to whether the things came to table hot or cold.

On one occasion, during tea, the head cook was in unusually good
humour, and remarked, “I spare no possible pains to provide for
you.  I hope you want for nothing.”  Two of the passengers,
Englishmen, replied, “No, that’s true!”  The
third, who was a Portuguese, did not understand the importance of the
assertion.  As a native of Germany, not possessing the patriotic
feeling of an English subject in the matter, I should have replied very
differently had I not been a women, and if, by so replying, I could
have effected a change for the better.

The only light we had was from a piece of tallow candle, that often
went out by eight o’clock.  We were then under the necessity
of sitting in the dark or going to bed.

In the morning the cabin served as a barber’s shop, and in
the afternoon as a dormitory, where the cooks and servants, who were
half dead with sleep, used to come and slumber on the benches.

In order to render us still more comfortable, one of the officers
pitched upon our cabin as quarters for two young puppies, who did nothing
but keep up one continued howl; he would not have dared to put them
in the sailors’ cabin, because the latter would have kicked them
out without farther ceremony.

My description will, in all probability, be considered exaggerated,
especially as there is an old opinion that the English are, above all
other people, justly celebrated for their comfort and cleanliness. 
I can, however, assure my readers that I have spoken nothing but the
truth; and I will even add that, although I have made many voyages on
board steam-ships, and always paid second fare, never did I pay so high
a price for such wretched and detestable treatment.  In all my
life I was never so cheated.  The only circumstance on board the
ship to which I can refer with pleasure was the conduct of the officers,
who were, without exception, obliging and polite.

I was very much struck with the remarkable degree of patience exhibited
by my fellow-passengers.  I should like to know what an Englishman,
who has always got the words “comfort” and “comfortable”
at the top of his tongue, would say, if he were treated in this manner
on board a steamer belonging to any other nation?

For the first few days of our voyage we saw no land, and it was not
until the 28th of August that we caught sight of the rocky coast of
Cochin China.  During the whole of the 29th we steered close along
the coast, but could see no signs of either human beings or habitations,
the only objects visible being richly wooded mountain-ranges; in the
evening, however, we beheld several fires, which might have been mistaken
for the signals from lighthouses, and proved that the country was not
quite uninhabited.

During the following day we only saw a large solitary rock called
“The Shoe.”  It struck me as being exactly like the
head of a shepherd’s dog.

On the 2nd of September we neared Malacca.  Skirting the coast
are tolerably high, well-wooded mountain-ranges, infested, according
to all accounts, by numerous tigers, that render all travelling very
dangerous.

On the 3rd of September we ran into the port of Singapore; but it
was so late in the evening, that we could not disembark.

On the following morning I paid a visit to the firm of Behu and Meyer,
to whom I had letters of introduction.  Madame Behu was the first
German lady I had met since my departure from Hamburgh.  I cannot
say how delighted I was at forming her acquaintance.  I was once
more able to give free vent to my feelings in my own native tongue. 
Madame Behu would not hear of my lodging in an hotel; I was immediately
installed as a member of her own amiable family.  My original plan
was to have remained but a short period in Singapore, and then proceed
in a sailing vessel to Calcutta, as I had a perfect horror of English
steamers, and as I had been told that opportunities continually presented
themselves.  I waited, however, week after week in vain, until,
in spite of my unwillingness, I was obliged to embark in a comfortable
English steamer at last. {118}

The Europeans lead pretty much the same kind of life at Singapore
that they do at Canton, with this difference, however, that the merchants
reside with their families in the country, and come to town every morning
for business.  Each family is obliged to keep a large staff of
servants, and the lady of the house meddles very little in domestic
matters, as these are generally altogether entrusted to the major-domo.

The servants are Chinese, with the exception of the seis (coachmen
or grooms), who are Bengalese.  Every spring, whole shiploads of
Chinese boys, from ten to fifteen years old, come over here.  They
are generally so poor that they cannot pay their passage.  When
this is the case, the captain brings them over on his own account, and
is paid beforehand, by the person engaging them, their wages for the
first year.  These young people live very economically, and when
they have a little money, return generally to their native country,
though many hire themselves as journeymen, and stop altogether.

The Island of Singapore has a population of 55,000 souls, 40,000
of whom are Chinese, 10,000 Malays, or natives, and 150 Europeans. 
The number of women is said to be very small, in consequence of the
immigrants from China and India consisting only of men and boys.

The town of Singapore and its environs contain upwards of 20,000
inhabitants.  The streets struck me as being broad and airy, but
the houses are not handsome.  They are only one story high; and,
from the fact of the roof’s being placed directly above the windows,
appear as if they were crushed.  On account of the continual heat,
there is no glass in any of the windows, but its place is supplied by
sun-blinds.

Every article of merchandise has here, as at Canton, if not its own
peculiar street, at least its own side of the street.  The building
in which meat and vegetables are sold, is a fine handsome edifice resembling
a temple.

As a natural result of the number of persons of different nations
congregated upon this island, there are various temples, none of which
are worthy of notice, however, with the exception of that belonging
to the Chinese.  It is formed like an ordinary house, but the roof
is ornamented in the usual Chinese fashion to rather too great an extent. 
It is loaded with points and pinnacles, with circles and curves without
end, all of which are formed of coloured tiles or porcelain, and decorated
with an infinity of arabesques, flowers, dragons, and other monsters. 
Over the principal entrance are small stone bas-reliefs, and both the
exterior and interior of the building can boast of a profusion of carved
wood-work richly gilt.

Some fruit and biscuits of various descriptions, with a very small
quantity of boiled rice, were placed upon the altar of the Goddess of
Mercy.  These are renewed every evening, and whatever the goddess
may leave is the perquisite of the bonzes.  On the same altar lay
pretty little wooden counters cut in an oval shape, which the Chinese
toss up in the air; it is held to be a sign of ill-luck if they fall
upon the reverse side, but if they fall upon the other, this is believed
to betoken good fortune.  The worthy people are in the habit of
tossing them up until they fall as desired.

Another manner of learning the decrees of fate consists in placing
a number of thin wooden sticks in a basin, and then shaking them until
one falls out.  Each of these sticks is inscribed with a certain
number, corresponding with a sentence in a book of proverbs.  This
temple was more frequented by the people than those in Canton. 
The counters and sticks seemed to exercise great influence over the
congregation, for it was only round them that they gathered.

There is nothing further to be seen in the town, but the environs,
or rather the whole island, offers the most enchanting sight. 
The view cannot certainly be called magnificent or grand, since one
great feature necessary to give it this character, namely, mountains,
is entirely wanting.  The highest hill, on which the governor’s
house and the telegraph are situated, is scarcely more than 200 feet
high, but the luxuriant verdancy, the neat houses of the Europeans in
the midst of beautiful gardens, the plantations of the most precious
spices, the elegant areca and feathered palms, with their slim stems
shooting up to a height of a hundred feet, and spreading out into the
thick feather-like tuft of fresh green, by which they are distinguished
from every other kind of palms, and, lastly, the jungle in the back-ground,
compose a most beautiful landscape, and which appears doubly lovely
to a person like myself, just escaped from that prison ycleped Canton,
or from the dreary scenery about the town of Victoria.

The whole island is intersected with excellent roads, of which those
skirting the sea-shore are the most frequented, and where handsome carriages,
and horses from New Holland, and even from England, {120a}
are to be seen.  Besides the European carriages, there are also
certain vehicles of home manufacture called palanquins, which are altogether
closed and surrounded on all sides with jalousies.  Generally,
there is but one horse, at the side of which both the coachman and footman
run on foot.  I could not help expressing my indignation at the
barbarity of this custom, when I was informed that the residents had
wanted to abolish it, but that the servants had protested against it,
and begged to be allowed to run beside the carriage rather than sit
or stand upon it.  They cling to the horse or vehicle, and are
thus dragged along with it.

Hardly a day passed that we did not drive out.  Twice a week
a very fine military band used to play on the esplanade close to the
sea, and the whole world of fashionables would either walk or drive
to the place to hear the music.  The carriages were ranged several
rows deep, and surrounded by young beaux on foot and horseback; any
one might have been excused for imagining himself in an European city. 
As for myself, it gave me more pleasure to visit a plantation, or some
other place of the kind, than to stop and look on what I had so often
witnessed in Europe. {120b}

I frequently used to visit the plantations of nutmegs and cloves,
and refresh myself with their balsamic fragrance.  The nutmeg-tree
is about the size of a fine apricot-bush, and is covered from top to
bottom with thick foliage; the branches grow very low down the stem,
and the leaves shine as if they were varnished.  The fruit is exactly
similar to an apricot covered with yellowish-brown spots.
When
ripe it bursts, exposing to view a round kernel about the size of a
nut, enclosed in a kind of net-work of a fine deep red: this network
is known as mace.  It is carefully separated from the nutmeg itself,
and dried in the shade.  While undergoing this process, it is frequently
sprinkled with sea-water, to prevent its original tint turning black
instead of yellow.  In addition to this net-work, the nutmeg is
covered with a thin, soft rind.  The nutmeg itself is also dried,
then smoke-dried a little, and afterwards, to prevent its turning mouldy,
dipped several times in sea-water, containing a weak solution of lime.

The clove-tree is somewhat smaller, and cannot boast of such luxuriant
foliage, or such fine large leaves as the nutmeg-tree.  The cloves
are the buds of the tree gathered before they have had time to blossom. 
They are first smoked, and then laid for a short time in the sun.

Another kind of spice is the areca-nut, which hangs under the crown
of the palm of the same name, in groups containing from ten to twenty
nuts each.  It is somewhat larger than a nutmeg, and its outer
shell is of so bright a colour, that it resembles the gilt nuts which
are hung upon the Christmas-trees in Germany.  The kernel is almost
the same colour as the nutmeg, but it has no net-work: it is dried in
the shade.

The Chinese and natives of the place chew this nut with betel-leaf
and calcined mussel-shells.  They strew the leaf with a small quantity
of the mussel-powder, to which they add a very small piece of the nut,
and make the whole into a little packet, which they put into their mouth. 
When they chew tobacco at the same time, the saliva becomes as red as
blood, and their mouths, when open, look like little furnaces, especially
if, as is frequently the case with the Chinese, the person has his teeth
dyed and filed.  The first time I saw a case of the kind I was
very frightened: I thought the poor fellow had sustained some serious
injury, and that his mouth was full of blood.

I also visited a sago manufactory.  The unprepared sago is imported
from the neighbouring island of Borromeo, and consists of the pith of
a short, thick kind of palm.  The tree is cut down when it is seven
years old, split up from top to bottom, and the pith, of which there
is always a large quantity, extracted; it is then freed from the fibres,
pressed in large frames, and dried at the fire or in the sun. 
At this period it has still a yellowish tinge.  The following is
the manner in which it is grained: The meal or pith is steeped in water
for several days, until it is completely blanched; it is then once more
dried by the fire or in the sun, and passed under a large wooden roller,
and through a hair sieve.  When it has become white and fine, it
is placed in a kind of linen winnowing-fan, which is kept damp in a
peculiar manner.  The workman takes a mouthful of water, and spurts
it out like fine rain over the fan, in which the meal is alternately
shaken and moistened in the manner just mentioned, until it assumes
the shape of small globules, which are constantly stirred round in large,
flat pans until they are dried, when they are passed through a second
sieve, not quite so fine as the first, and the larger globules separated
from the rest.

The building in which the process takes place is a large shed without
walls, its roof being supported upon the trunks of trees.

I was indebted to the kindness of the Messrs. Behu and Meyer for
a very interesting excursion into the jungle.  The gentlemen, four
in number, all well provided with fowling-pieces, having determined
to start a tiger, besides which they were obliged to be prepared for
bears, wild boars, and large serpents.  We drove as far as the
river Gallon, where we found two boats in readiness for us, but, before
entering them, paid a visit to a sugar-refining establishment situated
upon the banks of the river.

The sugar-cane was piled up in stacks before the building, but there
had only been sufficient for a day’s consumption, as all that
remained would have turned sour from the excessive heat.  The cane
is first passed under metal cylinders, which press out all the juice;
this runs into large cauldrons, in which it is boiled and then allowed
to cool.  It is afterwards placed in earthen jars, where it becomes
completely dry.

The buildings resembled those I have described when speaking of the
preparation of sago.

After we had witnessed the process of sugar-baking, we entered the
boats, and proceeded up the stream.  We were soon in the midst
of the virgin forests, and experienced, at every stroke of the oars,
greater difficulty in forcing our passage, on account of the numerous
trunks of trees both in and over the stream.  We were frequently
obliged to land and lift the boats over these trees, or else lie flat
down, and thus pass under them as so many bridges.  All kinds of
brushwood, full of thorns and brambles, hung down over our heads, and
even some gigantic leaves proved a serious obstacle to us.  These
leaves belonged to a sort of palm called the Mungkuang.  Near the
stem they are five inches broad, but their length is about twelve feet,
and as the stream is scarcely more than nine feet wide, they reached
right across it.

The natural beauty of the scene was so great, however, that these
occasional obstructions, so far from diminishing, actually heightened
the charm of the whole.  The forest was full of the most luxuriant
underwood, creepers, palms, and fern plants; the latter, in many instances
sixteen feet high, proved a no less effectual screen against the burning
rays of the sun than did the palms and other trees.

My previous satisfaction was greatly augmented on seeing several
apes skipping about on the highest branches of the trees, while others
were heard chattering in our immediate vicinity.  This was the
first time I had seen these animals in a state of perfect freedom, and
I secretly felt very much delighted that the gentlemen with me did not
succeed in shooting any of the mischievous little creatures: they brought
down, however, a few splendid lories (a sort of small parrot of the
most beautiful plumage) and some squirrels.  But our attention
was soon attracted by a much more serious object.  We remarked
in the branches of one of the trees a dark body, which, on nearer inspection,
we found to be that of a large serpent, lying coiled up, and waiting,
probably, to dart upon its prey.  We ventured pretty near, but
it remained quite motionless without turning its eyes from us, and little
thinking how near its death was.  One of the gentlemen fired, and
hit it in the side.  As quick as lightning, and with the greatest
fury, it darted from the tree, but remained fast, with its tail entangled
in a bough.  It kept making springs at us, with its forked tongue
exposed to view, but all in vain, as we kept at a respectable distance. 
A few more shots put an end to its existence, and we then pulled up
under the bough on which it was hanging.  One of the boatmen, a
Malay, made a small noose of strong, tough grass, which he threw round
the head of the serpent, and thus dragged it into the boat.  He
also told us that we should be sure to find a second not far off, as
serpents of this kind always go in pairs, and, true enough, the gentlemen
in the other boat had already shot the second, which was also coiled
up on the branch of a large tree.

These serpents were of a dark green colour, with beautiful yellow
streaks, and about twelve feet in length.  I was told that they
belonged to the boa species.

After having proceeded eight English miles in four hours, we left
the boats, and following a narrow footpath, soon reached a number of
plots of ground, cleared from trees, and planted with pepper and gambir.

The pepper-tree is a tall bush-like plant, that, when trained and
supported with props, will attain a height varying from fifteen to eighteen
feet.  The pepper grows in small, grape-like bunches, which are
first red, then green, and lastly, nearly black.  The plant begins
to bear in the second year.

White pepper is not a natural production, but is obtained by dipping
the black pepper several times in sea-water: this causes it to lose
its colour, and become a dirty white.  The price of a pikul of
white pepper is six dollars (24s.), whereas that of a pikul of black
is only three dollars (12s.).

The greatest height attained by the gambir plant is eight feet. 
The leaves alone are used in trade: they are first stripped off the
stalk, and then boiled down in large coppers.  The thick juice
is placed in wide wooden vessels, and dried in the sun; it is then cut
into slips three inches long and packed up.  Gambir is an article
that is very useful in dyeing, and hence is frequently exported to Europe. 
Pepper plantations are always to be found near a plantation of the gambir
plant, as the former are always manured with the boiled leaves of the
latter.

Although all the work on the plantations, as well as every other
description of labour at Singapore, is performed by free labourers,
I was told that it cost less than if it were done by slaves.  The
wages here are very trifling indeed; a common labourer receives three
dollars a month, without either board or lodging; and yet with this,
he is enabled not only to subsist himself, but to maintain a family. 
Their huts, which are composed of foliage, they build themselves; their
food consists of small fish, roots, and a few vegetables.  Nor
is their apparel more expensive; for, beyond the immediate vicinity
of the town, and where all the plantations are situated, the children
go about entirely naked, while the men wear nothing more than a small
apron about a hand’s-breadth wide, and fastened between the legs:
the women are the only persons dressed with anything like propriety.

The plantations that we now saw, and which we reached about 10 o’clock,
were cultivated by Chinese.  In addition to their huts of leaves,
they had erected a small temple, where they invited us to alight. 
We immediately spread out upon the altar some refreshments, which Madame
Behu, like a good housewife, had given us; but, instead of imitating
the Chinese, and sacrificing them to the gods, we were wicked enough
to devour them ravenously ourselves.

When we had satisfied our hunger, we skinned the serpent and then
made a present of it to the Chinese; but they gave us to understand
that they would not touch it, at which I was greatly surprised, since
they will generally eat anything.  I was afterwards convinced that
this was all pretence, for on returning some hours later from our hunting
excursion and going into one of their huts, we found them all seated
round a large dish in which were pieces of roast meat of the peculiar
round shape of the serpent.  They wanted to hide the dish in a
great hurry, but I entered very quickly and gave them some money to
be allowed to taste it.  I found the flesh particularly tender
and delicate, even more tender than that of a chicken.

But I have quite forgotten to describe our hunting excursion. 
We asked the labourers if they could not put us on the track of a tiger;
they described to us a part of the wood where one was reported to have
taken up his abode a few days previously, and we immediately set off. 
We had great difficulty in forcing our way through the forest, having,
at every instant, to clamber over prostrate trees, creep through brambles
or cross over swamps, but we had, at all events, the satisfaction of
progressing, which we certainly should not have had in the forests of
Brazil, where such an undertaking would have been impracticable. 
It is true that there were creepers and orchids, but not in such numbers
as in Brazil, and the trees, too, stand far wider apart.  We saw
some splendid specimens, towering to a height of above a hundred feet. 
The objects which interested us most were the ebony and kolim trees. 
The timber of the first is of two kinds, a layer of brownish-yellow
surrounding the inner stem, which composes that portion especially known
as ebony.

The kolim-tree diffuses an excessively strong odour, similar to that
of onions, indicating its site at some distance off.  The fruit
tastes extremely like onions, and is very often used by the common people,
but its odour and taste are too strong for Europeans.  I merely
just touched a piece of fresh rind, and my hands smelt of it the next
morning.

We beat about the forest for some hours without meeting the game
of which we were in search.  We once thought that we had found
the lair, but we soon found that we were mistaken.  One of the
gentlemen, too, affirmed that he heard the growl of a bear; it must,
however, have been a very gentle growl, as no one else heard it, although
we were all close together.

We returned home without any further addition to our stock of game,
but highly delighted with our agreeable trip.

Although Singapore is a small island, and all means have been used
and rewards offered for the extirpation of the tigers, they have failed. 
Government gives a premium of a hundred dollars, and the Society of
Singapore Merchants a similar sum for every tiger killed.  Besides
this, the valuable skin belongs to the fortunate hunter, and even the
flesh is worth something, as it is eagerly bought by the Chinese for
eating.  The tigers, however, swim over from the neighbouring peninsula
of Malacca, which is only separated from Singapore by a very narrow
channel, and hence it will be impossible to eradicate them entirely.

The varieties of fruit found at Singapore are very numerous and beautiful. 
Among the best may be reckoned the mangostan, which is said to grow
only here and in Java.  It is as big as a middling-sized apple. 
The rind is a deep brown on the outside and scarlet inside, and the
fruit itself is white, and divided naturally into four or five sections:
it almost melts in the mouth, and has an exquisite flavour.  The
pine-apples are much more juicy, sweeter, and considerably larger than
those at Canton; I saw some which must have weighed about four pounds. 
Whole fields are planted with them, and when they arrive at full maturity,
three or four hundred may be bought for a dollar.  They are often
eaten with salt.  There is also another kind of fruit, “sauersop,”
which also often weighs several pounds, and is green outside and white
or pale yellow inside.  It very much resembles strawberries in
taste, and, like them, is eaten with wine and sugar.  The gumaloh
is divided into several distinct slices, and resembles a pale yellow
orange, but is not so sweet and juicy; many people, however, prefer
it; it is at least five times as large as an orange.  In my opinion,
however, the palm of excellence is borne away by the “custard
apple,” which is covered with small green scales. {125} 
The inside, which is full of black pips, is very white, as soft as butter,
and of the most exquisite flavour.  It is eaten with the help of
small spoons.

A few days before my departure from Singapore, I had an opportunity
of witnessing the burial of a Chinese in easy circumstances.  The
procession passed our house, and in spite of a temperature of 113°
Fah., I went with it to the grave, which was three or four miles distant,
and was too much interested in the ceremony to leave until it was concluded,
although it lasted nearly two hours.

At the head of the procession was a priest, and at his side a Chinese
with a lantern two feet high, covered with white cambric.  Then
came two musicians, one of whom beat a small drum at intervals, and
the other played the cymbals.  These persons were followed by the
coffin, with a servant holding a large open parasol over that part of
it on which the head of the deceased lay.  Alongside walked the
eldest son or the nearest male relative, carrying a small white flag,
and with his hair hanging in disorder over his shoulders.  The
relations were all dressed in the deepest mourning—that is to
say, entirely in white; the men had even got white caps on, and the
women were so enveloped in white cloths that it was impossible to see
so much as their faces.  The friends and attendants, who followed
the coffin in small groups without order or regularity, had all got
a white strip of cambric bound round their head, their waist, or their
arm.  As soon as it was remarked that I had joined the procession,
a man who had a quantity of these strips, came up and offered me one,
which I took and bound round my arm.

The coffin, which consisted of the trunk of a large tree, was covered
with a dark-coloured cloth; a few garlands of flowers were suspended
from it, and some rice, tied up in a cloth, was placed upon it. 
Four-and-twenty men bore this heavy burden on immense poles: their behaviour
was excessively lively, and every time they changed, they began quarrelling
or laughing among themselves.  Nor did the other personages in
the ceremony display either grief or respect; they ate, drank, smoked,
and talked, while some carried cold tea in small pails for the benefit
of such as might be thirsty.  The son alone held himself aloof;
he walked, according to custom, plunged in deep sorrow by the side of
the coffin.

On reaching the road that led to the last resting place, the son
threw himself upon the ground, and, covering up his face, sobbed very
audibly.  After a little, he got up again and tottered behind the
coffin, so that two men were obliged to support him; he appeared very
ill and deeply moved.  It is true, I was afterwards informed that
this grief is mostly merely assumed, since custom requires that the
chief mourner shall be, or pretend to be, weak and ill with sorrow.

On arriving at the grave, which was seven feet deep, and dug on the
declivity of a hill, they laid the pall, flowers, and rice on one side,
and then, after throwing in a vast quantity of gold and silver paper,
lowered the coffin, which I then for the first time perceived was of
the finest workmanship, lacquered and hermetically closed.  At
least half an hour was taken up by this part of the proceedings. 
The relations at first threw themselves on the ground, and, covering
their faces, howled horribly, but finding the burial lasted rather long,
sat down in a circle all round, and taking their little baskets of betel,
burnt mussel-shells, and areca-nuts, began chewing away with the greatest
composure.

After the coffin was lowered into the grave, one of the attendants
advanced to the upper part of it, and opened the small packet of rice,
on which he placed a sort of compass.  A cord was then handed to
him.  He placed it over the middle of the compass, and altered
its position until it lay exactly in the same direction as the needle. 
A second cord, with a plummet attached, was then held to the first and
let down into the grave, and the coffin moved backwards and forwards
according to this line, until the middle was in the same direction as
the needle: this arrangement consumed at least another quarter of an
hour.

After this, the coffin was covered over with numberless sheets of
white paper, and the person who had conducted the previous operation
made a short speech, during which the children of the deceased threw
themselves upon the ground.  When it was finished, the speaker
threw a few handfuls of rice over the coffin and to the children, who
held up the corner of their outer garments so as to catch as many of
the grains as possible; but as they only succeeded in obtaining a few,
the speaker gave about a handful more, which they tied up carefully
in the corner of their dress, and took away with them.

The grave was at last filled in, when the relations set up a most
dismal howl, but, as far as I could remark, every eye was dry.

After this, boiled fowls, ducks, pork, fruit, all kinds of pastry,
and a dozen cups full of tea, together with the tea-pot, were placed
in two rows upon the grave, and six painted wax tapers lighted and stuck
in the ground near the refreshments.  During all this time, immense
heaps of gold and silver paper were set fire to and consumed.

The eldest son now approached the grave again, and threw himself
down several times, touching the ground on each occasion with his forehead. 
Six perfumed paper tapers were handed to him a-light; when he had swung
them round in the air a few times he gave them back, when they also,
in their turn, were fixed in the earth.  The other relations performed
the same ceremony.

During all this time, the priest had been sitting at a considerable
distance from the grave under the shade of a large parasol, and without
taking the slightest share in the proceedings.  He now, however,
came forward, made a short speech, during which he rang a small bell
several times, and his duty was at an end.  The refreshments were
cleared away, the tea poured over the grave, and the whole company returned
home in excellent spirits accompanied by the music, which had also played
at intervals over the grave.  The provisions, as I was informed,
were distributed among the poor.

On the following day I witnessed the celebrated Chinese Feast of
Lanterns.  From all the houses, at the corners of the roofs, from
high posts, etc., were hung innumerable lanterns, made of paper or gauze,
and most artistically ornamented with gods, warriors, and animals. 
In the courts and gardens of the different houses, or, where there were
no courts or gardens, in the streets, all kinds of refreshments and
fruit were laid out with lights and flowers, in the form of half pyramids
on large tables.  The people wandered about the streets, gardens,
and courts, until nearly midnight, when the edible portions of the pyramids
were eaten by the proprietors of them.  I was very much pleased
with this feast, but with no part of it more than the quiet and orderly
behaviour of the people: they looked at all the eatables with a scrutinizing
glance, but without touching the smallest fragment.

Singapore is situated 58’ (nautical miles) north of the line,
in 104° East longitude, and the climate, when compared to that of
other southern countries, is very agreeable.  During the period
of my stay, extending from September 3rd to October 8th, the heat seldom
exceeded 83° 75’ indoors, and 117° in the sun.  There
is never any great variation in the temperature, which is the natural
consequence of the place being near the equator.  The sun always
rises and sets at 6 A.M. and 6 P.M. respectively, and is immediately
followed by full daylight or perfect night; the twilight hardly lasting
ten minutes.

In conclusion, I must remark that Singapore will shortly become the
central point of all the Indian steamers.  Those from Hong-Kong,
Ceylon, Madras, Calcutta, and Europe arrive regularly once a month;
there is likewise a Dutch war-steamer from Batavia, and in a little
time there will also be steamers running to and fro between this place,
and Manilla and Sidney.

CHAPTER X.  THE EAST INDIES—CEYLON.

DEPARTURE FROM SINGAPORE—THE ISLAND OF PINANG—CEYLON—POINTE
DE GALLE—EXCURSION INTO THE INTERIOR—COLOMBO—CANDY—THE
TEMPLE OF DAGOHA—ELEPHANT HUNT—RETURN TO COLOMBO AND POINTE
DE GALLE.

I once more embarked in an English steamer, the “Braganza,”
of 350 horse power, that left Singapore for Ceylon on the 7th of October. 
The distance between the two places is 1,900 miles.

The treatment I experienced on board this vessel was, it is true,
a little different from that on board the other, although it was nearly
as bad.  There were four of us in the second cabin; {128}
we dined alone, and had a mulatto servant to attend upon us.  Unfortunately,
he was afflicted with elephantiasis, and his appearance did not at all
tend to whet the edge of our appetites.

During the 7th and 8th of October, we held our course through the
Strait of Malacca, which separates Sumatra from the peninsula, and during
all this time we never lost sight of land.  Malacca is, near the
coast, merely hilly; but further in the interior the hills swell into
a fine mountain range.  To our left lay a number of mountainous
islands, which completely intercepted our view of Sumatra.

But if the scenery around us was not remarkable, the spectacle on
board the vessel itself was highly interesting.  The crew was composed
of seventy-nine persons, comprising Chinese, Malays, Cingalese, Bengalese,
Hindostanese, and Europeans.  As a general rule, those of each
country generally took their meals separately with their own countrymen. 
They all had immense plates of rice, and little bowls full of curry;
a few pieces of dried fish supplied the place of bread.  They poured
the curry over the rice, and mixing the whole together with their hands,
made it into small balls which they put into their mouths with a small
piece of fish; about half their food used generally to fall back again
into their plates.

The costume of these people was very simple.  Many of them had
nothing more than a pair of short trousers on, with a dirty old turban,
and even the place of this was sometimes supplied by a coloured rag,
or a cast-off sailor’s cap.  The Malays wore long cloths
wound round their bodies, with one end hanging over their shoulder. 
The Chinese preserved intact their usual costume and mode of life; and
the coloured servants of the ship’s officers were the only ones
who were occasionally well and even elegantly dressed.  Their costume
consisted of white trousers, wide upper garments, also white, with white
sashes, silk jackets, and small embroidered white caps, or handsome
turbans.

The manner in which all these poor coloured people were treated was
certainly not in accordance with Christian principles.  No one
ever addressed them but in the roughest manner, and they were kicked
and cuffed about on every occasion; even the dirtiest little European
cabin-boy on board was allowed to act in the most cruel manner, and
play off the most ignoble practical jokes upon them.  Unhappy creatures!
how is it possible that they should feel any love for Christians?

On the 9th of October we landed on the small island of Pinang. 
The town of the same name lies in the midst of a small plain, which
forms the half of an isthmus.  Not far from the town rises a picturesque
mountain range.

I received five hours’ leave, which I devoted to riding about
in all directions through the town in a palanquin, and even going a
little distance into the country.  All that I could see resembled
what I had already seen at Singapore.  The town itself is not handsome,
but the contrary is the case with the country houses, which are all
situated in beautiful gardens.  The island is intersected by a
great number of excellent roads.

From one of the neighbouring mountains there is said to be a very
fine prospect of Pinang, a part of Malacca, and the sea, and, on the
road to the mountain, a waterfall.  Unfortunately, the few hours
at my disposal did not allow me to see everything.

The greatest portion of the population of this island consists of
Chinese, who perform all the manual labour, and engross all the retail
trade.

On the 11th of October we saw the small island of Pulo-Rondo, which
appertains to Sumatra.  We now took the shortest line across the
Bay of Bengal, and beheld land no more until we came in sight of Ceylon.

On the afternoon of the 17th of October, we neared Ceylon. 
I strained my anxious eyes to catch a glimpse of it as soon as possible,
for it is always described as being a second Eden; some go so far as
to affirm that our common father, Adam, settled there on his expulsion
from Paradise, and, as a proof of this, adduce the fact of many places
in the island, such as Adam’s Peak, Adam’s Bridge, etc.,
still bearing his name.  I breathed the very air more eagerly,
hoping, like other travellers, to inhale the fragrant odours wafted
to me from the plantations of costly spices.

It was one of the most magnificent sights I ever beheld, to observe
the island rising gradually from the sea, and to mark the numerous mountain
ranges, which intersect Ceylon in every direction, becoming every instant
more defined, their summits still magically lighted by the setting sun,
while the thick cocoa-groves, the hills, and plains lay enveloped in
dusky night.  The fragrant odours, however, were wanting, and the
vessel smelt, as usual, of nothing more than tar, coals, steam, and
oil.

About 9 in the evening, we arrived before the harbour at Pointe de
Galle, but, as the entrance is very dangerous, we quietly hove-to for
the night.  On the following morning two pilots came on board and
took us safely through the narrow passage of deep water leading into
the port.

Hardly were we landed before we were surrounded by a crowd of people
with precious stones, pearls, tortoiseshell, and ivory articles for
sale.  It is possible that a connoisseur may sometimes make a very
advantageous purchase; but I would advise those who have not much experience
in these things, not to be dazzled by the size and splendour of the
said precious stones and pearls, as the natives, according to all accounts,
have learnt from Europeans the art of profiting as much as they can
by a favourable opportunity.

Pointe de Galle is charmingly situated: in the fore-ground are some
fine groups of rock, and in the back-ground, immediately adjoining the
little town, which is protected by fortifications, rise magnificent
forests of palms.  The houses present a neat appearance; they are
low, and shaded by trees, which, in the better streets, are planted
so as to form alleys.

Pointe de Galle is the place of rendezvous for the steamers from
China, Bombay, Calcutta, and Suez.  Passengers from Calcutta, Bombay,
and Suez, do not stop more than twelve, or, at most, twenty-four hours;
but those proceeding from China to Calcutta have to wait ten or fourteen
days for the steamer that carries them to their destination.  This
delay was to me very agreeable, as I profited by it to make an excursion
to Candy.

There are two conveyances from Pointe de Galle to Colombo—the
mail which leaves every day, and a coach which starts three times a
week.  The distance is seventy-three English miles, and the journey
is performed in ten hours.  A place in the mail costs £1
10s., and in the coach 13s.  As I was pressed for time, I was obliged
to go by the first.  The roads are excellent; not a hill, not a
stone is there to impede the rapid rate at which the horses, that are
changed every eight miles, scamper along.

The greater portion of the road traversed thick forests of cocoa-trees,
at a little distance from the sea-shore, and the whole way was more
frequented and more thickly studded with houses than anything I ever
saw even in Europe.  Village followed village in quick succession,
and so many separate houses were built between them, that there was
not a minute that we did not pass one.  I remarked also some small
towns, but the only one worthy of notice was Calturi, where I was particularly
struck by several handsome houses inhabited by Europeans.

Along the road-side, under little roofs of palm-leaves, were placed
large earthen vessels filled with water, and near them cocoa-nut shells
to drink out of.  Another measure for the accommodation of travellers,
which is no less worthy of praise, consists in the establishment of
little stone buildings, roofed in, but open at the sides, and furnished
with benches.  In these buildings many wayfarers often pass the
night.

The number of people and vehicles that we met made the journey appear
to me very short.  There were specimens of all the various races
which compose the population of Ceylon.  The Cingalese, properly
so called, are the most numerous, but, besides these, there are Indians,
Mahomedans, Malays, natives of Malabar, Jews, Moors, and even Hottentots. 
I saw numerous instances of handsome and agreeable physiognomies among
those of the first three races; the Cingalese youths and boys, in particular,
are remarkably handsome.  They possess mild, well-formed features,
and are so slim and finely built, that they might easily be mistaken
for girls; an error into which it is the more easy to fall from their
manner of dressing their hair.  They wear no covering on their
head, and comb back all their hair, which is then fastened behind by
means of a comb, with a flat, broad plate, four inches high.  This
kind of head-dress looks anything but becoming in the men.  The
Mahomedans and Jews have more marked features; the latter resemble the
Arabs, and, like them, have noble physiognomies.  The Mahomedans
and Jews, too, are easily recognised by their shaven heads, long beards,
and small white caps or turbans.  Many of the Indians, likewise,
wear turbans; but the most have only a simple piece of cloth tied round
their head, which is also the case with the natives of Malacca and Malabar. 
The Hottentots allow their coal-black hair to fall in rude disorder
over their foreheads and half-way down their necks.  With the exception
of the Mahomedans and Jews, none of these different people bestow much
care upon their dress.  Save a small piece of cloth of about a
hand’s-breadth, and fastened between their legs, they go about
naked.  Those who are at all dressed, wear short trousers and an
upper garment.

I saw very few women, and these only near their huts, which they
appear to leave less than any females with whom I am acquainted. 
Their dress, also, was exceedingly simple, consisting merely of an apron
bound round their loins, a short jacket that exposed rather than covered
the upper part of their body, and a sort of rag hanging over their head. 
Many were enveloped in large pieces of cloth worn loosely about them. 
The borders and lobes of their ears were pierced and ornamented with
ear-rings, while on their feet and arms, and round their necks, they
wore chains and bracelets of silver, or some other metal, and round
one of their toes an extremely massive ring.

Any one would suppose that, in a country where the females are allowed
to show themselves so little, they would be closely wrapped up; but
this is not the case.  Many had forgotten their jackets and head
coverings, especially the old women, who seemed particularly oblivious
in this respect, and presented a most repulsive appearance when thus
exposed.  Among the younger ones I remarked many a handsome and
expressive face; only they, too, ought not to be seen without their
jackets, as their breasts hang down almost to their knees.

The complexion of the population varies from a dark to a light or
reddish brown or copper colour.  The Hottentots are black, but
without that glossy appearance which distinguishes the negro.

It is extraordinary what a dread all these half-naked people have
of the wet.  It happened to commence raining a little, when they
sprang like so many rope-dancers over every little puddle, and hastened
to their huts and houses for shelter.  Those who were travelling
and obliged to continue their journey, held, instead of umbrellas, the
leaves of the great fan-palm (Corypha umbraculifera) over their
heads.  These leaves are about four feet broad, and can be easily
held, like fans.  One of them is large enough for two persons.

But if the natives dread the rain, they have no fear of the heat. 
It is said that they run no risk from the rays of the sun, being protected
by the thickness of their skulls and the fat beneath.

I was much struck by the peculiarity of some of the waggons, which
consisted of wooden two-wheeled cars, roofed with palm leaves stretching
out about four feet, before and behind, beyond the body of the car. 
These projections serve to protect the driver from the rain and the
rays of the sun, whichever way they may chance to fall.  The oxen,
of which there was always only a pair, were yoked at such a distance
from the waggon, that the driver could walk very conveniently in the
intervening space.

I profited by the half-hour allowed for breakfast to proceed to the
sea-shore, whence I observed a number of men busily employed on the
dangerous rock in the middle of the most violent breakers.  Some
of them loosened, by the aid of long poles, oysters, mussels, etc.,
from the rocks, while others dived down to the bottom to fetch them
up.  I concluded that there must be pearls contained inside, for
I could not suppose that human beings would encounter such risks for
the sake of the fish alone; and yet this was the case, for I found,
later, that though the same means are employed in fishing for pearls,
it is on the eastern coast and only during the months of February and
March.

The boats employed by these individuals were of two kinds. 
The larger ones, which contained about forty persons, were very broad,
and composed of boards joined together and fastened with the fibres
of the cocoa-tree; the smaller ones were exactly like those I saw in
Tahiti, save that they appeared still more dangerous.  The bottom
was formed of the trunk of an extremely narrow tree, slightly hollowed
out, and the sides of the planks are kept in their places by side and
cross supports.  These craft rose hardly a foot and a half out
of the water, and their greatest breadth did not average quite a foot. 
There was a small piece of plank laid across as a seat, but the rower
was obliged to cross his knees from want of room to sit with them apart.

The road, as I before mentioned, lay for the most part through forests
of cocoa-trees, where the soil was very sandy and completely free from
creepers and underwood; but near trees that did not bear fruit, the
soil was rich, and both that and the trees covered with creepers in
wild luxuriance.  There were very few orchids.

We crossed four rivers, the Tindurch, Bentock, Cattura, and Pandura,
two by means of boats, two by handsome wooden bridges.

The cinnamon plantations commenced about ten miles from Colombo;
and on this side of the town are all the country-houses of the Europeans. 
They are very simple, shaded with cocoa-trees and surrounded with stone
walls.  At 3 o’clock in the afternoon, we drove over two
draw-bridges and through two fortified gateways into the town, which
is far more pleasantly situated than Pointe de Galle, on account of
its nearer proximity to the beautiful mountain ranges.

I only stopped a night here, and on the following morning again resumed
my journey in the mail to the town of Candy, which is distant seventy-two
miles.

We left on the 20th of October, at 5 o’clock in the morning. 
Colombo is a very extensive town.  We drove through a succession
of long, broad streets of handsome houses, all of which latter were
surrounded by verandahs and colonnades.  I was very much startled
at the number of persons lying stretched out at full length under these
verandahs, and covered with white clothes.  I at first mistook
them for corpses, but I soon perceived that their number was too great
to warrant that supposition, and I then discovered that they were only
asleep.  Many, too, began to move and throw off their winding-sheets. 
I was informed that the natives prefer sleeping in this manner before
the houses to sleeping inside of them.

The Calanyganga, an important river, is traversed by a long floating
bridge; the road then branches off more and more from the sea-coast,
and the character of the scenery changes.  The traveller now meets
with large plains covered with fine plantations of rice, the green and
juicy appearance of which reminded me of our own young wheat when it
first shoots up in spring.  The forests were composed of mere leaved
wood, the palms becoming at every step more rare; one or two might sometimes
be seen, here and there, towering aloft like giants, and shading everything
around.  I can imagine nothing more lovely than the sight of the
delicate creepers attached to the tall stems of these palms and twining
up to their very crests.

After we had gone about sixteen miles, the country began to assume
a more hilly aspect, and we were soon surrounded by mountains on every
side.  At the foot of each ascent we found extra horses in waiting
for us; these were yoked to the ordinary team, and whirled us rapidly
over all obstacles.  Although there is a rise of about 2,000 feet
on the road to Candy, we performed the distance, seventy-two miles,
in eleven hours.

The nearer we approached our destination, the more varied and changing
became the scenery.  At one time we might be closely hemmed in
by the mountains, and then the next moment they would stretch away,
one above the other, while their summits seemed to contend which should
outrival the rest in altitude and beauty of outline.  They were
covered, to the height of several thousand feet, with luxuriant vegetation,
which, for the most part, then generally ceased, and gave way to the
bare rock.  I was not less interested, however, with the curious
teams we sometimes met, than I was with the scenery.  It is well
known that Ceylon abounds in elephants, many of which are captured and
employed for various purposes.  Those that I now saw were yoked
in twos or threes to large waggons, full of stones for mending the roads.

Four miles before reaching Candy, we came to the river Mahavilaganga,
which is spanned by a masterly bridge of one arch.  The materials
of the bridge are most costly, consisting of satin-wood.  In connection
with this structure, I learned the following legend.

After the conquest of the island by the English, the natives did
not give up the hope of once more attaining their independence, because
one of their oracles had declared that it was as impossible for the
enemy to obtain a lasting dominion over them, as it was for the opposite
banks of the Mahavilaganga to be united by a road.  When the bridge
was begun, they smiled, and said that it could never be successfully
completed.  At present, I was told, they think of independence
no more.

Near the bridge is a botanical garden which I visited the following
day, and was astonished at its excellent arrangement, and the richness
of its collection of flowers, plants, and trees.

Opposite the garden is one of the largest sugar-plantations, and,
in the neighbourhood, a number of coffee-plantations.

In my opinion, the situation of Candy is most beautiful, but many
affirm that it is too near the mountains, and lies in a pit.  At
any rate, this pit is a very lovely one, abounding in the most luxuriant
vegetation.  The town itself is small and ugly, consisting of nothing
but a mass of small shops, with natives passing to and fro.  The
few houses that belong to Europeans, the places of business, and the
barracks, are all outside the town, upon small hills.  Large sheets
of artificial water, surrounded by splendid stone balustrades, and shaded
by alleys of the mighty tulip-tree, occupy a portion of the valley. 
On the side of one of these basins, stands the famous Buddhist temple
of Dagoha, which is built in the Moorish-Hindostanee style, and richly
ornamented.

On my leaving the coach, one of the passengers was kind enough to
recommend me a good hotel, and to call a native and direct him where
to conduct me.  When I reached the hotel, the people there said
that they were very sorry, but that all their rooms were occupied. 
I asked them to direct my guide to another establishment, which they
did.  The rascal led me away from the town, and, pointing to a
hill which was near us, gave me to understand that the hotel was situated
behind it.  I believed him, as all the houses are built far apart;
but on ascending the hill, I found nothing but a lonely spot and a wood. 
I wished to turn back, but the fellow paid no attention to my desire,
and continued walking towards the wood.  I then snatched my portmanteau
from him, and refused to proceed any further.  He endeavoured to
wrest it from me, when, luckily, I saw in the distance two English soldiers,
who hastened up in answer to my cries, and, on seeing this, the fellow
ran off.  I related my adventure to the soldiers, who congratulated
me on the recovery of my luggage, and conducted me to the barracks,
where one of the officers was kind enough to give orders that I should
be conducted to another hotel.

My first visit was to the temple of Dagoha, which contains a valuable
relic of the god Buddha, namely, one of his teeth, and, together with
the out-buildings, is surrounded by a wall.  The circumference
of the principal temple is not very considerable, and the sanctuary,
which contains the tooth, is a small chamber hardly twenty feet broad. 
Within this place all is darkness, as there are no windows, and inside
the door, there is a curtain, to prevent the entry of any light. 
The walls and ceiling are covered with silk tapestry, which, however,
has nothing but its antiquity to recommend it.  It is true that
it was interwoven with gold thread, but it appeared never to have been
especially costly, and I cannot believe that it ever produced that dazzling
effect which some travellers have described.  Half of the chamber
was engrossed by a large table, or kind of altar, inlaid with plates
of silver, and ornamented round the edges with precious stones. 
On it stands a bell-shaped case, measuring at the bottom at least three
feet in diameter, and the same in height.  It is made of silver
thickly gilt, and decorated with a number of costly jewels; there is
a peacock in the middle entirely formed of precious stones; but all
these treasures fail to produce any very great effect, from the clumsy
and inartistic fashion in which they are set.

Under the large case there are six smaller ones, said to be of pure
gold; under the last is the tooth of the all-powerful divinity. 
The outer case is secured by means of three locks, two of the keys belonging
to which used to be kept by the English governor, while the third remained
in the custody of the chief priest of the temple.  A short time
previous to my visit, however, the government had restored the two keys
to the natives with great solemnities, and they are now confided to
one of the native Radschas, or princes.

The relic itself is only shown to a prince or some other great personage;
all other people must be content to believe the priest, who, for a small
gratuity, has the politeness to describe the size and beauty of the
tooth.  The dazzling whiteness of its hue is said to eclipse that
of ivory, while its form is described as being more beautiful than anything
of the kind ever beheld, and its size to equal that of the tooth of
an immense bullock.

An immense number of pilgrims come here every year to pay their adoration
to this divine tooth.

“Where ignorance is bliss, ’t is folly to be wise.” 
How many people are there among us Christians who believe things which
require quite as great an amount of faith?  For instance, I remember
witnessing, when I was a girl, a festival at Calvaria, in Gallicia,
which is still celebrated every year.  A great multitude of pilgrims
go there to obtain splinters of the true cross.  The priests manufacture
little crosses of wax, on which, as they assure the faithful, they stick
splinters of the real one.  These little crosses, wrapped up in
paper and packed in baskets, are placed ready for distribution, that
is, for sale.  Every peasant generally takes three: one to put
in his room, one in his stable, and another in his barn.  The most
wonderful portion of the business is that these crosses must be renewed
every year, as in that period they lose their divine power.

But let me return to Candy.  In a second temple, adjoining that
in which the relic is preserved, are two gigantic hollow statues of
the god Buddha in a sitting posture, and both are said to be formed
of the finest gold.  Before these colossi stand whole rows of smaller
Buddhas, of crystal, glass, silver, copper, and other materials. 
In the entrance hall, likewise, are several stone statues of different
gods, with other ornaments, most of them roughly and stiffly executed. 
In the middle stands a small plain monument of stone, resembling a bell
turned upside down; it is said to cover the grave of a Brahmin.

On the outer walls of the principal temple are wretched daubs in
fresco, representing the state of eternal punishment.  Some of
the figures are being roasted, twitched with red-hot pincers, partly
baked, or forced to swallow fire.  Others again, are jammed between
rocks, or having pieces of flesh cut out of their bodies, etc., but
fire appears to play the principal part in these punishments.

The doors of the principal temple are made of metal, and the door
posts of ivory.  On the first are the most beautiful arabesques
in basso-relief, and on the second, in inlaid work, representing flowers
and other objects.  Before the principal entrance, four of the
largest elephant’s teeth ever found are stuck up by way of ornament.

Ranged round the court-yard are the tents of the priests, who always
go about with bare, shaven heads, and whose costume consists of a light
yellow upper garment, which nearly covers the whole body.  It is
said that there were once 500 officiating priests in this temple; at
present the divinity is obliged to content himself with a few dozen.

The chief part of the religious ceremonies of the Buddhists consists
in presents of flowers and money.  Every morning and evening a
most horrible instrument, fit to break the drum of one’s ear,
and called a tam-tam, together with some shrill trumpets and fifes,
is played before the door of the temple.  To this soon succeeds
a crowd of people from all sides, bringing baskets full of the most
beautiful flowers, with which the priests adorn the altars, and that
in a manner so elegant and tasty, that it cannot be surpassed.

Besides this temple, there are several others in Candy, but only
one worth noticing.  This is situated at the foot of a rocky hill,
out of which has been hewn a statue of Buddha, thirty-six feet high,
and over this is built the temple, which is small and elegant. 
The god is painted with the most glaring colours.  The walls of
the temple are covered with handsome red cement, and portioned out into
small panels, in all of which the god Buddha appears al fresco
There are also a few portraits of Vischnu, another god.  The colours
on the southern wall of the temple are remarkable for their fine state
of preservation.

Here, likewise, there is a funeral monument, like that of the Temple
of Dagoha, not however, in the building itself, but under the lofty
firmament of heaven, and shaded by noble trees.

Attached to the temples are frequently schools, in which the priests
fulfil the duties of teachers.  Near this particular temple, we
saw about a dozen boys—girls are not allowed to attend school—busy
writing.  The copies for them were written very beautifully, by
means of a stylus, on small palm-leaves, and the boys used the same
material.

It is well worth any person’s while to walk to the great valley
through which the Mahavilaganga flows.  It is intersected with
a countless number of wave-like hills, many of which form regular terraces,
and are planted with rice or coffee.  Nature is here young and
vigorous, and amply rewards the planter’s toil.  The darker
portions of the picture are composed of palms or other trees, and the
back-ground consists partly of towering mountains, in a holiday suit
of green velvet, partly of stupendous and romantic rocks in all their
gloomy nakedness.

I saw many of the principal mountains in Ceylon—giants, 8,000
feet high; but, unfortunately, not the most celebrated one, Adam’s
Peak, which has an altitude of 6,500 feet, and which, towards the summit
is so steep, that it was necessary, in order to enable any one to climb
up, to cut small steps in the rock, and let in an iron chain.

But the bold adventurer is amply repaid for his trouble.  On
the flat summit of the rock is the imprint of a small foot, five
feet long.  The Mahomedans suppose it to be that of our vigorous
progenitor, Adam, and the Buddhists that of their large-toothed divinity,
Buddha.  Thousands of both sects flock to the place every year,
to perform their devotions.

There still exists at Candy the palace of the former king, or emperor
of Ceylon.  It is a handsome stone building, but with no peculiar
feature of its own; I should have supposed that it had been built by
Europeans.  It consists of a ground floor, somewhat raised, with
large windows, and handsome porticoes resting upon columns.  The
only remarkable thing about it is a large hall in the interior, with
its walls decorated with some rough and stiffly executed representations
of animals in relief.  Since the English deposed the native sovereign,
the palace has been inhabited by the English resident, or governor.

Had I only arrived a fortnight sooner, I should have witnessed the
mode of hunting, or rather snaring, elephants.  The scene of operations
is a spot on the banks of some stream or other, where these animals
go to drink.  A large place is enclosed with posts, leading up
to which, and also skirted by stout posts, are a series of narrow passages. 
A tame elephant, properly trained, is then made fast in the middle of
the large space, to entice by his cries the thirsty animals, who enter
unsuspiciously the labyrinth from which they cannot escape, as the hunters
and drivers follow, alarm them by their shouts, and drive them into
the middle of the enclosure.  The finest are taken alive, by being
deprived of food for a short time.  This renders them so obedient,
that they quietly allow a noose to be thrown over them, and then follow
the tame elephant without the least resistance.  The others are
then either killed or set at liberty, according as they possess fine
tusks or not.

The preparations for capturing these animals sometimes last several
weeks, as, besides enclosing the spot selected, a great many persons
are employed to hunt up the elephants far and wide, and drive them gradually
to the watering place.

Persons sometimes go elephant-hunting, armed merely with firearms;
but this is attended with danger.  The elephant, as is well known,
is easily vulnerable in one spot only,—the middle of the skull. 
If the hunter happens to hit the mark, the monster lies stretched before
him at the first shot; but if he misses, then woe to him, for he is
speedily trampled to death by the enraged beast.  In all other
cases the elephant is very peaceable, and is not easily induced to attack
human beings.

The Europeans employ elephants to draw and carry burdens—an
elephant will carry forty hundred-weight; but the natives keep them
more for show and riding.

I left Candy after a stay of three days, and returned to Colombo,
where I was obliged to stop another day, as it was Sunday, and there
was no mail.

I profited by this period to visit the town, which is protected by
a strong fort.  It is very extensive; the streets are handsome,
broad, and clean; the houses only one story high, and surrounded by
verandahs and colonnades.  The population is reckoned at about
80,000 souls, of whom about 100 are Europeans, exclusive of the troops,
and 200 descendants of Portuguese colonists, who founded a settlement
here some centuries ago.  The complexion of the latter is quite
as dark as that of the natives themselves.

In the morning I attended mass.  The church was full of Irish
soldiers and Portuguese.  The dress of the Portuguese was extremely
rich; they wore ample robes with large folds, and short silk jackets;
in their ears hung ear-rings of pearls and diamonds, and round their
necks, arms, and even ankles, were gold and silver chains.

In the afternoon I took a walk to one of the numerous cinnamon plantations
round Colombo.  The cinnamon tree or bush is planted in rows; it
attains at most a height of nine feet, and bears a white, scentless
blossom.  From the fruit, which is smaller than an acorn, oil is
obtained by crushing and boiling it; the oil then disengages itself
and floats on the top of the water.  It is mixed with cocoa-oil
and used for burning.

There are two cinnamon harvests in the course of the year. 
The first and principal one takes place from April to July, and the
second from November to January.  The rind is peeled from the branches
by means of knives, and then dried in the sun; this gives it a yellowish
or brownish tint.  The best cinnamon is a light yellow, and not
thicker than pasteboard.

The essential oil of cinnamon, used in medicine, is extracted from
the plant itself, which is placed in a vessel full of water, and left
to steep for eight to ten days.  The whole mass is then transferred
to a retort and distilled over a slow fire.  In a short time, on
the surface of the water thus distilled a quantity of oil collects,
and this is then skimmed off with the greatest care.

In the animal kingdom, besides the elephants, I was much struck by
the number and tameness of the ravens of Ceylon.  In every small
town and village may be seen multitudes of these birds, that come up
to the very doors and windows and pick up everything.  They play
the part of scavengers here, just as dogs do in Turkey.  The horned
cattle are rather small, with humps between the shoulder-blades; these
humps consist of flesh and are considered a great dainty.

In Colombo and Pointe de Galle there are likewise a great many large
white buffaloes, belonging to the English government, and imported from
Bengal.  They are employed in drawing heavy loads.

Under the head of fruit, I may mention the pine-apple as being particularly
large and good.

I found the temperature supportable, especially in the high country
round about Candy, where, after some heavy rain, it might almost be
called cold.  In the evening and morning the thermometer stood
as low as 61° 25’ Fah.; and in the middle of the day and in
the sun, it did not rise above 79° 25’.  In Colombo and
Pointe de Galle, the weather was fine, and the heat reached 95°
Fah.

On the 26th of October I again reached Pointe de Galle, and on the
following day I embarked in another English steamer for India.

CHAPTER XI.  MADRAS AND CALCUTTA.

DEPARTURE FROM CEYLON—MADRAS—CALCUTTA—MODE OF
LIFE OF THE EUROPEANS—THE HINDOOS—PRINCIPAL OBJECTS OF INTEREST
IN THE TOWN—VISIT TO A BABOO—RELIGIOUS FESTIVALS OF THE
HINDOOS—HOUSES OF DEATH AND PLACES FOR BURNING THE DEAD—MAHOMEDAN
AND EUROPEAN MARRIAGE CEREMONIES.

On the afternoon of the 27th of October I went on board the steamship
“Bentinck,” of 500 horse-power; but we did not weigh anchor
much before evening.

Among the passengers was an Indian prince of the name of Schadathan,
who had been made prisoner by the English for breaking a peace he had
concluded with them.  He was treated with all the respect due to
his rank, and he was allowed his two companions, his mundschi,
or secretary, and six of his servants.  They were all dressed in
the Oriental fashion, only, instead of turbans, they wore high, round
caps, composed of pasteboard covered with gold or silver stuff. 
They wore also luxuriant long black hair, and beards.

The companions of the prince took their meals with the servants. 
A carpet was spread out upon the deck, and two large dishes, one containing
boiled fowls, and the other pillau, placed upon it; the company used
their hands for knives and forks.

28th October.  We still were in sight of the fine dark mountain
ranges of Ceylon.  Now and then, too, some huge detached groups
of rocks would be visible towering above the waves.

29th October.  Saw no land.  A few whales betrayed their
presence by the showers of spray they spouted up, and immense swarms
of flying fish were startled by the noise of our engines.

On the morning of the 30th of October we came in sight of the Indian
continent.  We soon approached near enough to the shore to distinguish
that it was particularly remarkable for its beauty, being flat and partly
covered with yellow sand; in the back-ground were chains of low hills.

At 1 o’clock, P.M., we anchored at a considerable distance
(six miles) from Madras.  The anchoring place here is the most
dangerous in the world, the ground-swell being so strong that at no
time can large vessels approach near the town, and many weeks often
pass without even a boat being able to do so.  Ships, consequently,
only stop a very short time, and there are rarely more than a dozen
to be seen riding at anchor.  Large boats, rowed by ten or twelve
men, come alongside them to take the passengers, letters, and merchandise
ashore.

The steamer stops here eight hours, which may be spent in viewing
the town, though any one so doing runs a chance of being left behind,
as the wind is constantly changing.  I trusted to the good luck
which had always attended me during my travels, and made one of the
party that disembarked; but we had not got more than half way to land
when I was punished for my curiosity.  It began to rain most fearfully,
and we were very soon wet to the skin.  We took refuge in the first
coffee-house we saw, situated at the water’s edge; the rain had
now assumed a tropical character, and we were unable to leave our asylum. 
As soon as the storm had passed by, a cry was raised for us to return
as quickly as possible, as there was no knowing what might follow.

A speculative baker of Madras had come out in the first boat that
reached the steamer with ice and biscuits for sale, which he disposed
of very much to his profit.

The angry heavens at length took compassion on us and cleared up
before sunset.  We were then enabled to see the palace-like dwellings
of the Europeans, built half in the Grecian and half in the Italian
style of architecture, stretching along the shore and beautifully lighted
by the sun.  Besides these, there were others standing outside
the town in the midst of magnificent gardens.

Before we left, a number of natives ventured to us in small boats
with fruit, fish, and other trifles.  Their boats were constructed
of the trunks of four small trees, tightly bound together with thin
ropes made of the fibres of the cocoa-tree; a long piece of wood served
as an oar.  The waves broke so completely over them that I imagined
every instant that both boats and men were irretrievably lost.

The good people were almost in a state of nature, and seemed to bestow
all their care on their heads, which were covered with pieces of cloth,
turbans, cloth or straw caps, or very high and peaked straw hats. 
The more respectable—among whom may be reckoned the boatmen who
brought the passengers and mails—were, however, in many cases,
very tastily dressed.  They had on neat jackets, and large long
pieces of cloth wrapped round their bodies; both the cloths and jackets
were white, with a border of blue stripes.  On their heads they
wore tightly fitting white caps, with a long flap hanging down as far
as their shoulders.  These caps, too, had a blue border. 
The complexion of the natives was a dark brown or coffee colour.

Late in the evening, a native woman came on board with her two children. 
She had paid second-class fare, and was shown a small dark berth not
far from the first cabin places.  Her younger child had, unfortunately,
a bad cough, which prevented some rich English lady, who had likewise
a child with her, from sleeping.  Perhaps the exaggerated tenderness
which this lady manifested for her little son caused her to believe
that the cough might be catching; but, be that as it may, the first
thing she did on the following morning, was to beg that the captain
would transfer mother and children to the deck, which the noble-hearted
humane captain immediately did, neither the lady nor himself caring
in the least whether the poor mother had or had not, even a warm coverlid
to protect her sick child from the night cold and the frequent heavy
showers.

Would that this rich English lady’s child had only been ill,
and exposed with her to the foggy night air, that she might herself
have experienced what it is to be thus harshly treated!  A person
of any heart must almost feel ashamed at belonging to a class of beings
who allow themselves to be far surpassed in humanity and kindness by
those who are termed savages; no savages would have thus thrust forth
a poor woman with a sick child, but would, on the contrary, have taken
care of both.  It is only Europeans, who have been brought up with
Christian principles, who assume the right of treating coloured people
according as their whim or fancy may dictate.

On the 1st and 2nd of November we caught occasional glimpses of the
mainland, as well as of several little islands; but all was flat and
sandy, without the least pretensions to natural beauty.  Ten or
twelve ships, some of them East Indiamen of the largest size, were pursuing
the same route as ourselves.

On the morning of the 3rd of November, the sea had already lost its
own beautiful colour, and taken that of the dirty yellow Ganges. 
Towards evening we had approached pretty close to the mouths of this
monster river, for some miles previous to our entering which, the water
had a sweet flavour.  I filled a glass from the holy stream, and
drank it to the health of all those near and dear to me at home.

At 5 o’clock in the afternoon, we cast anchor before Kadscheri,
at the entrance of the Ganges, it being too late to proceed to Calcutta,
which is sixty nautical miles distant.  The stream at this point
was several miles broad, so that the dark line of only one of its banks
was to be seen.

4th November.  In the morning we entered the Hoogly, one of
the seven mouths of the Ganges.  A succession of apparently boundless
plains lay stretched along on both sides of the river.  Fields
of rice were alternated with sugar plantations, while palm, bamboo,
and other trees, sprung up between, and the vegetation extended, in
wanton luxuriance, down to the very water’s edge; the only objects
wanting to complete the picture were villages and human beings, but
it was not until we were within about five-and-twenty miles of Calcutta
that we saw now and then a wretched village or a few half-naked men. 
The huts were formed of clay, bamboos, or palm branches, and covered
with tiles, rice-straw, or palm leaves.  The larger boats of the
natives struck me as very remarkable, and differed entirely from those
I saw at Madras.  The front portion was almost flat, being elevated
hardly half a foot above the water while the stern was about seven feet
high.

The first grand-looking building, a cotton mill, is situated fifteen
miles below Calcutta, and a cheerful dwelling-house is attached. 
From this point up to Calcutta, both banks of the Hoogly are lined with
palaces built in the Greco-Italian style, and richly provided with pillars
and terraces.  We flew too quickly by, unfortunately, to obtain
more than a mere passing glimpse of them.

Numbers of large vessels either passed us or were sailing in the
same direction, and steamer after steamer flitted by, tugging vessels
after them; the scene became more busy and more strange, every moment,
and everything gave signs that we were approaching an Asiatic city of
the first magnitude.

We anchored at Gardenrich, four miles below Calcutta.  Nothing
gave me more trouble during my travels than finding lodgings, as it
was sometimes impossible by mere signs and gestures to make the natives
understand where I wanted to go.  In the present instance, one
of the engineers interested himself so far in my behalf as to land with
me, and to hire a palanquin, and direct the natives where to take me.

I was overpowered by feelings of the most disagreeable kind the first
time I used a palanquin.  I could not help feeling how degrading
it was to human beings to employ them as beasts of burden.

The palanquins are five feet long and three feet high, with sliding
doors and jalousies: in the inside they are provided with mattresses
and cushions, so that a person can lie down in them as in a bed. 
Four porters are enough to carry one of them about the town, but eight
are required for a longer excursion.  They relieve each other at
short intervals, and run so quickly that they go four miles in an hour
or even in three-quarters of an hour.  These palanquins being painted
black, looked like so many stretchers carrying corpses to the churchyard
or patients to the hospital.

On the road to the town, I was particularly struck with the magnificent
gauths (piazzas), situated on the banks of the Hoogly, and from
which broad flights of steps lead down to the river.  Before these
gauths are numerous pleasure and other boats.

The most magnificent palaces lay around in the midst of splendid
gardens, into one of which the palanquin-bearers turned, and set me
down under a handsome portico before the house of Herr Heilgers, to
whom I had brought letters of recommendation.  The young and amiable
mistress of the house greeted me as a countrywoman (she was from the
north and I from the south of Germany), and received me most cordially. 
I was lodged with Indian luxury, having a drawing-room, a bed-room,
and a bath-room especially assigned to me.

I happened to arrive in Calcutta at the most unfavourable period
possible.  Three years of unfruitfulness through almost the whole
of Europe had been followed by a commercial crisis, which threatened
the town with entire destruction.  Every mail from Europe brought
intelligence of some failure, in which the richest firms here were involved. 
No merchant could say, “I am worth so much;”—the next
post might inform him that he was a beggar.  A feeling of dread
and anxiety had seized every family.  The sums already lost in
England and this place were reckoned at thirty millions of pounds sterling,
and yet the crisis was far from being at an end.

Misfortunes of this kind fall particularly hard upon persons who,
like the Europeans here, have been accustomed to every kind of comfort
and luxury.  No one can have any idea of the mode of life in India. 
Each family has an entire palace, the rent of which amounts to two hundred
rupees (£20), or more, a month.  The household is composed
of from twenty-five to thirty servants; namely—two cooks, a scullion,
two water-carriers, four servants to wait at table, four housemaids,
a lamp-cleaner, and half-a-dozen seis or grooms.  Besides this,
there are at least six horses, to every one of which there is a separate
groom; two coachmen, two gardeners, a nurse and servant for each child,
a lady’s maid, a girl to wait on the nurses, two tailors, two
men to work the punkahs, and one porter.  The wages vary from four
to eleven rupees (8s. to £1 2s.) a month.  None of the domestics
are boarded, and but few of them sleep in the house: they are mostly
married, and eat and sleep at home.  The only portion of their
dress which they have given to them is their turban and belt; they are
obliged to find the rest themselves, and also to pay for their own washing. 
The linen belonging to the family is never, in spite of the number of
servants, washed at home, but is all put out, at the cost of three rupees
(6s.) for a hundred articles.  The amount of linen used is something
extraordinary; everything is white, and the whole is generally changed
twice a day.

Provisions are not dear, though the contrary is true of horses, carriages,
furniture, and wearing apparel.  The last three are imported from
Europe; the horses come either from Europe, New Holland, or Java.

In some European families I visited there were from sixty to seventy
servants, and from fifteen to twenty horses.

In my opinion, the Europeans themselves are to blame for the large
sums they have to pay for servants.  They saw the native princes
and rajahs surrounded by a multitude of idle people, and, as Europeans,
they did not wish to appear in anyway inferior.  Gradually the
custom became a necessity, and it would be difficult to find a case
where a more sensible course is pursued.

It is true that I was informed that matters could never be altered
as long as the Hindoos were divided into castes.  The Hindoo who
cleans the room would on no account wait at table, while the nurse thinks
herself far too good ever to soil her hands by cleaning the child’s
washing-basin.  There may certainly be some truth in this, but
still every family cannot keep twenty, thirty, or even more servants. 
In China and Singapore, I was struck with the number of servants, but
they are not half, nay, not a third so numerous, as they are here.

The Hindoos, as is well known, are divided into four castes—the
Brahmins, Khetries, Bices and Sooders.  They all sprung from the
body of the god Brahma: the first from his mouth, the second from his
shoulders, the third from his belly and thighs, and the fourth from
his feet.  From the first class are chosen the highest officers
of state, the priests, and the teachers of the people.  Members
of this class alone are allowed to peruse the holy books; they enjoy
the greatest consideration; and if they happen to commit a crime, are
far less severely punished than persons belonging to any of the other
castes.  The second class furnishes the inferior officials and
soldiers; the third the merchants, workmen, and peasants; while the
fourth and last provides servants for the other three.  Hindoos
of all castes, however, enter service when compelled by poverty to do
so, but there is still a distinction in the kind of work, as the higher
castes are allowed to perform only that of the cleanest kind.

It is impossible for a person of one caste to be received into another,
or to intermarry with any one belonging to it.  If a Hindoo leaves
his native land or takes food from a Paria, he is turned out of his
caste, and can only obtain re-admission on the payment of a very large
sum.

Besides these castes, there is a fifth class—the Parias. 
The lot of these poor creatures is the most wretched that can be imagined. 
They are so despised by the other four castes, that no one will hold
the slightest intercourse with them.  If a Hindoo happens to touch
a Paria as he is passing, he thinks himself defiled, and is obliged
to bathe immediately.

The Parias are not allowed to enter any temple, and have particular
places set apart for their dwellings.  They are miserably poor,
and live in the most wretched huts; their food consists of all kinds
of offal and even diseased cattle; they go about nearly naked, or with
only a few rags at most on them, and perform the hardest and commonest
work.

The four castes are subdivided into an immense number of sects, seventy
of which are allowed to eat meat, while others are compelled to abstain
from it altogether.  Strictly speaking, the Hindoo religion forbids
the spilling of blood, and consequently the eating of meat; but the
seventy sects just mentioned are an exception.  There are, too,
certain religious festivals, at which animals are sacrificed. 
A cow, however, is never killed.  The food of the Hindoos consists
principally of rice, fruit, fish, and vegetables.  They are very
moderate in their living, and have only two simple meals a day—one
in the morning and the other in the evening.  Their general drink
is water or milk, varied sometimes with cocoa wine.

The Hindoos are of the middle height, slim, and delicately formed;
their features are agreeable and mild; the face is oval, the nose sharply
chiselled, the lip by no means thick, the eye fine and soft, and the
hair smooth and black.  Their complexion varies, according to the
locality, from dark to light brown; among the upper classes, some of
them, especially the women, are almost white.

There are a great number of Mahomedans in India; and as they are
extremely skilful and active, most trades and professions are in their
hands.  They also willingly hire themselves as servants to Europeans.

Men here do that kind of work which we are accustomed to see performed
by women.  They embroider with white wool, coloured silk, and gold;
make ladies’ head-dresses, wash and iron, mend the linen, and
even take situations as nurses for little children.  There are
a few Chinese, too, here, most of whom are in the shoemaking trade.

Calcutta, the capital of Bengal, is situated on the Hoogly, which
at this point is so deep and broad, that the largest men-of-war and
East Indiamen can lie at anchor before the town.  The population
consists of about 600,000 souls, of whom, not counting the English troops,
hardly more than 2,000 are Europeans and Americans.  The town is
divided into several portions—namely, the Business-town, the Black-town,
and the European quarter.  The Business-town and Black-town are
very ugly, containing narrow, crooked streets, filled with wretched
houses and miserable huts, between which there are warehouses, counting-houses,
and now and then some palace or other.  Narrow paved canals run
through all the streets, in order to supply the necessary amount of
water for the numerous daily ablutions of the Hindoos.  The Business-town
and Black-town are always so densely crowded, that when a carriage drives
through, the servants are obliged to get down and run on before, in
order to warn the people, or push them out of the way.

The European quarter of the town, however, which is often termed
the City of Palaces—a name which it richly merits—is, on
the contrary, very beautiful.  Every good-sized house, by the way,
is called, as it is in Venice, a palace.  Most of these palaces
are situated in gardens surrounded by high walls; they seldom join one
another, for which reason there are but few imposing squares or streets.

With the exception of the governor’s palace, none of these
buildings can be compared for architectural beauty and richness with
the large palaces of Rome, Florence, and Venice.  Most of them
are only distinguished from ordinary dwelling-houses by a handsome portico
upon brick pillars covered with cement, and terrace-like roof’s. 
Inside, the rooms are large and lofty, and the stairs of greyish marble
or even wood; but neither in doors or out are there any fine statues
or sculptures.

The Palace of the governor is as I before said, a magnificent building—one
that would be an ornament to the finest city in the world.  It
is built in the form of a horse-shoe, with a handsome cupola in the
centre: the portico, as well as both the wings, is supported upon columns. 
The internal arrangements are as bad as can possibly be imagined; the
supper-room being, for instance, a story higher than the ball-room. 
In both these rooms there is a row of columns on each side, and the
floor of the latter is composed of Agra marble.  The pillars and
walls are covered with a white cement, which is equal to marble for
its polish.  The private rooms are not worth looking at; they merely
afford the spectator an opportunity of admiring the skill of the architect,
who has managed to turn the large space at his command to the smallest
imaginable profit.

Among the other buildings worthy of notice are the Town-hall, the
Hospital, the Museum, Ochterlony’s Monument, the Mint, and the
English Cathedral.

The Town-hall is large and handsome.  The hall itself extends
through one entire story.  There are a few monuments in white marble
to the memory of several distinguished men of modern times.  It
is here that all kinds of meetings are held, all speculations and undertakings
discussed, and concerts, balls, and other entertainments given.

The Hospital consists of several small houses, each standing in the
midst of a grass plot.  The male patients are lodged in one house,
the females and children in a second, while the lunatics are confined
in the third.  The wards were spacious, airy, and excessively clean. 
Only Christians are received as patients.

The hospital for natives is similar, but considerably smaller. 
The patients are received for nothing, and numbers who cannot be accommodated
in the building itself are supplied with drugs and medicines.

The Museum, which was only founded in 1836, possesses, considering
the short space of time that has elapsed since its establishment, a
very rich collection, particularly of quadrupeds and skeletons, but
there are very few specimens of insects, and most of those are injured. 
In one of the rooms is a beautifully-executed model of the celebrated
Tatch in Agra; several sculptures and bas-reliefs were lying around. 
The figures seemed to me very clumsy; the architecture, however, is
decidedly superior.  The museum is open daily.  I visited
it several times, and, on every occasion, to my great astonishment,
met a number of natives, who seemed to take the greatest interest in
the objects before them.

Ochterlony’s Monument is a simple stone column, 165 feet in
height, standing, like a large note of admiration, on a solitary grassplot,
in memory of General Ochterlony, who was equally celebrated as a statesman
and a warrior.  Whoever is not afraid of mounting 222 steps will
be recompensed by an extensive view of the town, the river, and the
surrounding country; the last, however, is very monotonous, consisting
of an endless succession of plains bounded only by the horizon.

Not far from the column is a neat little mosque, whose countless
towers and cupolas are ornamented with gilt metal balls, which glitter
and glisten like so many stars in the heavens.  It is surrounded
by a pretty court-yard, at the entrance of which those who wish to enter
the mosque are obliged to leave their shoes.  I complied with this
regulation, but did not feel recompensed for so doing, as I saw merely
a small empty hall, the roof of which was supported by a few stone pillars. 
Glass lamps were suspended from the roof and walls, and the floor was
paved with Agra marble, which is very common in Calcutta, being brought
down the Ganges.

The Mint presents a most handsome appearance; it is built in the
pure Grecian style, except that it is not surrounded by pillars on all
its four sides.  The machinery in it is said to be especially good,
surpassing anything of the kind to be seen even in Europe.  I am
unable to express any opinion on the subject, and can only say that
all I saw appeared excessively ingenious and perfect.  The metal
is softened by heat and then flattened into plates by means of cylinders. 
These plates are cut into strips and stamped.  The rooms in which
the operations take place are spacious, lofty, and airy.  The motive-power
is mostly steam.

Of all the Christian places of worship, the English Cathedral is
the most magnificent.  It is built in the Gothic style, with a
fine large tower rising above half-a-dozen smaller ones.  There
are other churches with Gothic towers, but these edifices are all extremely
simple in the interior, with the exception of the Armenian church, which
has the wall near the altar crowded with pictures in gold frames.

The notorious “Black Hole,” in which the Rajah Suraja
Dowla cast 150 of the principal prisoners when he obtained possession
of Calcutta in 1756, is at present changed into a warehouse.  At
the entrance stands an obelisk fifty feet high, and on it are inscribed
the names of his victims.

The Botanical Garden lies five miles distant from the town. 
It was founded in the year 1743, but is more like a natural park than
a garden, as it is by no means so remarkable for its collection of flowers
and plants as for the number of trees and shrubs, which are distributed
here and there with studied negligence in the midst of large grass-plots. 
A neat little monument, with a marble bust, is erected to the memory
of the founder.  The most remarkable objects are two banana-trees. 
These trees belong to the fig-tree species, and sometimes attain a height
of forty feet.  The fruit is very small, round, and of a dark-red;
it yields oil when burnt.  When the trunk has reached an elevation
of about fifteen feet, a number of small branches shoot out horizontally
in all directions, and from these quantity of threadlike roots descend
perpendicularly to the ground, in which they soon firmly fix themselves. 
When they are sufficiently grown, they send out shoots like the parent
trunk; and this process is repeated ad infinitum, so that it
is easy to understand how a single tree may end by forming a whole forest,
in which thousands may find a cool and shady retreat.  This tree
is held sacred by the Hindoos.  They erect altars to the god Rama
beneath its shade, and there, too, the Brahmin instructs his scholars.

The oldest of these two trees, together with its family, already
describes a circumference of more than 600 feet, and the original trunk
measures nearly fifty feet round.

Adjoining the Botanical Garden is the Bishop’s College, in
which the natives are trained as missionaries.  After the Governor’s
Palace, it is the finest building in Calcutta, and consists of two main
buildings and three wings.  One of the main buildings is occupied
by an extremely neat chapel.  The library, which is a noble-looking
room, contains a rich collection of the works of the best authors, and
is thrown open to the pupils; but their industry does not appear to
equal the magnificence of the arrangements, for, on taking a book from
the bookcase, I immediately let it fall again and ran to the other end
of the room; a swarm of bees had flown upon me from out the bookcase.

The dining and sleeping rooms, as well as all the other apartments,
are so richly and conveniently furnished, that a person might easily
suppose that the establishment had been founded for the sons of the
richest English families, who were so accustomed to comfort from their
tenderest infancy that they were desirous of transplanting it to all
quarters of the globe; but no one would ever imagine the place had been
built for “the labourers in the vineyard of the Lord.”

I surveyed this splendid institution with a sadder heart than I might
have done, because I knew it was intended for the natives, who had first
to put off their own simple mode of life and accustom themselves to
convenience and superfluity, only to wander forth into the woods and
wildernesses, and exercise their office in the midst of savages and
barbarians.

Among the sights of Calcutta may be reckoned the garden of the chief
judge, Mr. Lawrence Peel, which is equally interesting to the botanist
and the amateur, and which, in rare flowers, plants, and trees, is much
richer than the Botanical Garden itself.  The noble park, laid
out with consummate skill, the luxuriant lawns, interspersed and bordered
with flowers and plants, the crystal ponds, the shady alleys, with their
bosquets and gigantic trees, all combine to form a perfect paradise,
in the midst of which stands the palace of the fortunate owner.

Opposite this park, in the large village of Alifaughur, is situated
a modest little house, which is the birthplace of much that is good. 
It contains a small surgery, and is inhabited by a native who has studied
medicine.  Here the natives may obtain both advice and medicine
for nothing.  This kind and benevolent arrangement is due to Lady
Julia Cameron, wife of the law member of the Supreme Council of India,
Charles Henry Cameron.

I had the pleasure of making this lady’s acquaintance, and
found her to be, in every respect, an ornament to her sex.  Wherever
there is any good to be done, she is sure to take the lead.  In
the years 1846-7, she set on foot subscriptions for the starving Irish,
writing to the most distant provinces and calling upon every Englishman
to contribute his mite.  In this manner she collected the large
sum of 80,000 rupees (£8,000.)

Lady Peel has distinguished herself also in the field of science,
and Bürger’s “Leonore” has been beautifully translated
by her into English.  She is also a kind mother and affectionate
wife, and lives only for her family, caring little for the world. 
Many call her an original; would that we had a few more such originals!

I had brought no letters of recommendation to this amiable woman,
but she happened to hear of my travels and paid me a visit.  In
fact, the hospitality I met with here was really astonishing. 
I was cordially welcomed in the very first circles, and every one did
all in his power to be of use to me.  I could not help thinking
of Count Rehberg, the Austrian minister at Rio Janeiro, who thought
he had conferred a great mark of distinction by inviting me once to
his villa; and, to purchase this honour, I had either to walk an hour
in the burning heat or to pay six milreis (13s.) for a carriage. 
In Calcutta, a carriage was always sent for me.  I could relate
a great many more anecdotes of the worthy count, who made me feel how
much I was to blame for not descending from a rich and aristocratic
family.  I experienced different treatment from the member of the
Supreme Council, Charles Henry Cameron, and from the chief judge, Mr.
Peel.  These gentlemen respected me for myself alone without troubling
their heads about my ancestors.

During my stay in Calcutta, I was invited to a large party in honour
of Mr. Peel’s birthday; but I refused the invitation, as I had
no suitable dress.  My excuse, however, was not allowed, and I
accompanied Lady Cameron, in a simple coloured muslin dress, to a party
where all the other ladies were dressed in silk and satin and covered
with lace and jewellery; yet no one was ashamed of me, but conversed
freely with me, and showed me every possible attention.

A very interesting promenade for a stranger is that to the Strand,
or “Maytown,” as it is likewise called.  It is skirted
on one side by the banks of the Hoogly, and on the other by beautiful
meadows, beyond which is the noble Chaudrini Road, consisting of rows
of noble palaces, and reckoned the finest quarter of Calcutta. 
Besides this, there is a fine view of the governor’s palace, the
cathedral, Ochterlony’s monument, the magnificent reservoirs,
Fort William, a fine prutagon with extensive outworks, and many other
remarkable objects.

Every evening, before sunset, all the fashionable world of Calcutta
streams hitherward.  The purse-proud European, the stuck-up Baboo
or Nabob, the deposed Rajah, are to be beheld driving in splendid European
carriages, followed by a multitude of servants, in Oriental costume,
some standing behind their carriages, and some running before it. 
The Rajahs and Nabobs are generally dressed in silk robes embroidered
with gold, over which are thrown the most costly Indian shawls. 
Ladies and gentlemen mounted upon English blood horses gallop along
the meadows, while crowds of natives are to be seen laughing and joking
on their way home, after the conclusion of their day’s work. 
Nor is the scene on the Hoogly less animated; first-class East Indiamen
are lying at anchor, unloading or being cleaned out, while numberless
small craft pass continually to and fro.

I had been told that the population here suffered very much from
elephantiasis, and that numbers of poor wretches with horribly swollen
feet were to be seen at almost every turn.  But this is not true. 
I did not meet with as many cases of the kind during five weeks here,
as I did in one day in Rio Janeiro.

On one occasion I paid a visit to a rich Baboo.  The property
of the family, consisting of three brothers, was reckoned at £150,000. 
The master of the house received me at the door, and accompanied me
to the reception-room.  He was clad in a large dress of white muslin,
over which was wound a magnificent Indian shawl, which extended from
the hips to the feet, and made up for the transparency of the muslin. 
One end of the shawl was thrown over his shoulder in the most picturesque
manner.

The parlour was furnished in the European fashion.  A large
hand organ stood in one corner, and in the other a spacious bookcase,
with the works of the principal English poets and philosophers; but
it struck me that these books were there more for show than use, for
the two volumes of Byron’s works were turned different ways, while
Young’s Night Thoughts were stuck between.  There were a
few engravings and pictures, which the worthy Baboo imagined to be an
ornament to the walls, but which were not of so much value as the frames
that contained them.

My host sent for his two sons, handsome boys, one seven and the other
four years old, and introduced them to me.  I inquired, although
it was quite contrary to custom to do so, after his wife and daughters. 
Our poor sex ranks so low in the estimation of the Hindoos, that it
is almost an insult to a person to mention any of his female relations. 
He overlooked this in me, as a European, and immediately sent for his
daughters.  The youngest, a most lovely baby six months old, was
nearly white, with large splendid eyes, the brilliancy of which was
greatly increased by the delicate eyelids, which were painted a deep
blue round the edges.  The elder daughter, nine years old, had
a somewhat common coarse face.  Her father, who spoke tolerable
English, introduced her to me as a bride, and invited me to the marriage
which was to take place in six weeks.  I was so astonished at this,
considering the child’s extreme youth, that I remarked he no doubt
meant her betrothal, but he assured me that she would then be married
and delivered over to her husband.

On my asking whether the girl loved her intended bridegroom, I was
told that she would see him for the first time at the celebration of
the nuptials.  The Baboo informed me further, that every person
like himself looked out for a son-in-law as soon as possible, and that
the younger a girl married the more honourable was it accounted; an
unmarried daughter was a disgrace to her father, who was looked upon
as possessed of no paternal love if he did not get her off his hands. 
As soon as he has found a son-in-law, he describes his bodily and mental
qualities as well as his worldly circumstances to his wife, and with
this description she is obliged to content herself, for she is never
allowed to see her future son-in-law, either as the betrothed, or the
husband of her child.  The bridegroom is never considered to belong
to the family of the bride, but the latter leaves her own relations
for those of her husband.  No woman, however, is allowed to see
or speak with the male relations of her husband, nor dare she ever appear
before the men-servants of her household without being veiled. 
If she wishes to pay a visit to her mother, she is carried to her shut
up in a palanquin.

I also saw the Baboo’s wife and one of his sisters-in-law. 
The former was twenty-five years old and very corpulent, the latter
was fifteen and was slim and well made.  The reason of this, as
I was told, is that the females, although married so young, seldom become
mothers before their fourteenth year, and until then preserve their
original slimness.  After their first confinement, they remain
for six or eight weeks shut up in their room, without taking the least
exercise, and living all the time on the most sumptuous and dainty food. 
This fattening process generally produces the desired effect. 
The reader must know that the Hindoos, like the Mahomedans, are partial
to corpulent ladies.  I never saw any specimens of this kind of
beauty, however, among the lower classes.

The two ladies were not very decently attired.  Their bodies
and heads were enveloped in ample blue and white muslin drapery, embroidered
with gold, and bordered with lace of the same material as broad as a
man’s hand, but the delicate texture {150}
was so ethereal, that every outline of the body was visible beneath
it.  Besides this, whenever they moved their arms the muslin opened
and displayed not only their arm, but a portion of their bosom and body. 
They appeared to pay a great deal of attention to their hair; their
chief care seemed to consist in replacing the muslin on their heads,
whenever it chanced to fall off.  As long as a female is unmarried,
she is never allowed to lay aside her head-dress.

These ladies were so overloaded with gold, pearls, and diamonds,
that they really resembled beasts of burden.  Large pearls, with
other precious stones strung together, adorned their head and neck,
as likewise did heavy gold chains and mounted gold coins.  Their
ears, which were pierced all over—I counted twelve holes in one
ear—were so thickly laden with similar ornaments, that the latter
could not be distinguished from one another; all that was to be seen
was a confused mass of gold, pearls, and diamonds.  On each arm
were eight or ten costly bracelets; the principal one, which was four
inches broad, being composed of massive gold, with six rows of small
brilliants.  I took it in my hand, and found that it weighed at
least half a pound.  They had gold chains twisted three times round
their thighs, and their ankles and feet were also encircled with gold
rings and chains; their feet were dyed with henna.

The two ladies then brought me their jewel-cases, and showed me a
great many more valuable ornaments.  The Hindoos must spend immense
sums in jewels and gold and silver embroidered Dacca muslin, as in these
articles it is the endeavour of every lady to outrival all her acquaintances. 
As they had anticipated my arrival, the two ladies were arrayed in their
most costly apparel; being determined to exhibit themselves to me in
true Indian splendour.

The Baboo also conducted me to the inner apartments looking into
the courtyard.  Some of these were furnished only with carpets
and pillows, the Hindoos not being, in general, partial to chairs or
beds; in others, were different pieces of European furniture, such as,
tables, chairs, presses, and even bedsteads.  A glass case containing
dolls, coaches, horses, and other toys, was pointed out to me with peculiar
satisfaction; both children and women are very fond of playing with
these things, though the women are more passionately fond of cards.

No married woman is allowed to enter the rooms looking out upon the
street, as she might be seen by a man from the opposite windows. 
The young bride, however, profited by her freedom, and tripping before
us to the open window, glanced into the busy street.

The wives of the rich Hindoos, or of those belonging to the higher
castes, are as much confined to their houses as the Chinese women. 
The only pleasure that the husband’s strictness permits the wife
to enjoy, is to pay a visit, now and then, in a carefully closed palanquin,
to some friend or relation.  It is only during the short time that
a woman remains unmarried that she is allowed rather more freedom.

A Hindoo may have several wives; there are, however, but few examples
of his availing himself of this privilege.

The husband’s relations generally reside in the same house,
but each family has its separate household.  The elder boys take
their meals with their father, but the wife, daughters, and younger
boys are not allowed this privilege.  Both sexes are extremely
fond of tobacco, which they smoke in pipes called hookas.

At the conclusion of my visit, I was offered sweetmeats, fruits,
raisins, etc.  The sweetmeats were mostly composed of sugar, almonds,
and suet, but were not very palatable, owing to the predominance of
the suet.

Before leaving the house, I visited the ground-floor to examine the
room, in which, once a year, the religious festival called Natch
is celebrated.  This festival, which is the most important one
in the Hindoo religion, takes place in the beginning of October, and
lasts a fortnight, during which time neither poor nor rich do any business
whatever.  The master closes his shops and warehouses, and the
servant engages a substitute, generally from among the Mahomedans, and
then both master and servant spend the fortnight, if not in fasting
and prayer, most certainly in doing nothing else.

The Baboo informed me that on these occasions his room is richly
ornamented, and a statue of the ten-armed goddess Durga placed in it. 
This statue is formed of clay or wood, painted with the most glaring
colours, and loaded with gold and silver tinsel, flowers, ribbons, and
often with even real jewellery.  Hundreds of lights and lamps,
placed between vases and garlands of flowers, glitter in the room, the
court-yard, and outside the house.  A number of different animals
are offered up as sacrifices; they are not slain, however, in the presence
of the goddess, but in some retired part of the house.  Priests
attend upon the goddess, and female dancers display their talent before
her, accompanied by the loud music of the tam-tam.  Both priests
and danseuses are liberally paid.  Some of the latter, like
our Taglionis and Elslers, earn large sums.  During the period
of my stay here, there was a Persian danseuse, who never appeared
for less than 500 rupees (£50.)  Crowds of the curious, among
whom are numbers of Europeans, flock from one temple to another; the
principal guests have sweetmeats and fruit served round to them.

On the last day of the festival the goddess is conveyed with great
pomp, and accompanied by music, to the Hoogly, where she is put in a
boat, rowed into the middle of the stream, and then thrown overboard
in the midst of the shouts and acclamations of the multitude upon the
banks.  Formerly, the real jewels were thrown in along with the
goddess, but carefully fished up again by the priests during the night;
at present, the real jewels are replaced on the last day by false ones,
or else the founder of the feast takes an opportunity of secretly obtaining
possession of them during the goddess’s progress to the river. 
He is obliged to do this very cautiously, however, so as not to be observed
by the people.  A Natch often costs several thousand rupees, and
is one of the most costly items in the expenditure of the rich.

Marriages, too, are said to cost large sums of money.  The Brahmins
observe the stars, and by their aid calculate the most fortunate day
and even hour for the ceremony to take place.  It is, however,
frequently postponed, at the very last moment, for a few hours longer,
as the priest has taken fresh observations, and hit upon a still luckier
instant.  Of course, such a discovery has to be paid for by an
extra fee.

There are several different feasts every year in honour of the four-armed
goddess Kally, especially in the village of Kallighat, near Calcutta. 
There were two during my stay.  Before each hut was placed a number
of small clay idols, painted with various colours and representing the
most horrible creatures.  They were exposed there for sale. 
The goddess Kally, as large as life, had got her tongue thrust out as
far as possible between her open jaws; she was placed either before
or inside the huts, and was richly decorated with wreaths of flowers.

The temple of Kally is a miserable building, or rather a dark hole,
from whose cupola-like roof rise several turrets: the statue here was
remarkable for its immense head and horribly long tongue.  Its
face was painted deep-red, yellow, and sky-blue.  I was unable
to enter this god-like hole, as I was a woman, and as such was not reckoned
worthy of admission into so sacred a place as Kally’s temple. 
I looked in at the door with the Hindoo woman, and was quite satisfied.

The most horrible and distressing scenes occur in the Hindoo dead-houses,
and at the places where the corpses are burnt.  Those that I saw
are situated on the banks of the Hoogly, near the town, and opposite
to them is the wood market.  The dead-house was small, and contained
only one room, in which were four bare bedsteads.  The dying person
is brought here by his relations, and either placed upon one of the
bedsteads, or, if these are all full, on the floor, or, at a push, even
before the house in the burning sun.  At the period of my arrival,
there were five persons in the house and two outside.  The latter
were completely wrapped up in straw and woollen counterpanes, and I
thought they were already dead.  On my asking whether or no this
was the case, my guide threw off the clothes, and I saw the poor wretches
move.  I think they must have been half-smothered under the mass
of covering.  Inside, on the floor, lay a poor old woman, the death-rattle
in whose throat proclaimed that her end was fast approaching. 
The four bedsteads were likewise occupied.  I did not observe that
the mouths and noses of these poor creatures were stopped up with mud
from the Ganges: this may, perhaps, be the case in some other districts. 
Near the dying persons were seated their relations, quietly and silently
waiting to receive their last breath.  On my inquiring whether
nothing was ever given to them, I was told that if they did not die
immediately, a small draught of water from the Ganges was handed to
them from time to time, but always decreasing in quantity and at longer
intervals, for when once brought to these places, they must die at any
price.

As soon as they are dead, and almost before they are cold, they are
taken to the place where they are burnt, and which is separated from
the high road by a wall.  In this place I saw one corpse and one
person at the point of death, while on six funeral-piles were six corpses
with the flames flaring on high all around them.  A number of birds,
larger than turkeys, and called here philosophers, {153}
small vultures, and ravens were seated upon the neighbouring trees and
house-tops, in anxious expectation of the half-burnt corpses. 
I was horrified.  I hurried away, and it was long before I could
efface the impression made upon my mind by this hideous spectacle.

In the case of rich people, the burning of the body sometimes costs
more than a thousand rupees; the most costly wood, such as rose and
sandal wood, being employed for that purpose.  Besides this, a
Brahmin, music, and female mourners, are necessary parts of the ceremony.

After the body has been burnt, the bones are collected, laid in a
vase, and thrown into the Ganges, or some other holy river.  The
nearest relation is obliged to set fire to the pile.

There are naturally none of these ceremonies among poor people. 
They simply burn their dead on common wood or cow-dung; and if they
cannot even buy these materials, they fasten a stone to the corpse and
throw it into the river.

I will here relate a short anecdote that I had from a very trustworthy
person.  It may serve as an example of the atrocities that are
often committed from false ideas of religion.

Mr. N— was once, during his travels, not far from the Ganges, and
was accompanied by several servants and a dog.  Suddenly the latter
disappeared, and all the calling in the world would not bring him back. 
He was at last discovered on the banks of the Ganges, standing near
a human body, which he kept licking.  Mr. N— went up and found
that the man had been left to die, but had still some spark of life
left.  He summoned his attendants, had the slime and filth washed
off the poor wretch’s face, and wrapped him well up.  In
a few days after he was completely recovered.  On Mr. N—’s
now being about to leave him, the man begged and prayed him not to do
so, as he had lost his caste, and would never more be recognised by
any of his relations; in a word that he was completely wiped out of
the list of the living.  Mr. N— took him into his service, and
the man, at the present day, is still in the enjoyment of perfect health. 
The event narrated occurred years ago.

The Hindoos themselves acknowledge that their customs, with regard
to dying persons, occasion many involuntary murders; but their religion
ordains that when the physician declares there is no hope left, the
person must die.

During my stay in Calcutta, I could learn no more of the manners
and customs of the Hindoos than what I have described, but I became
acquainted with some of the particulars of a Mahomedan marriage. 
On the day appointed for the ceremony, the nuptial bed, elegantly ornamented,
is carried, with music and festivity, to the house of the bridegroom,
and late in the evening, the bride herself is also conveyed there in
a close palanquin, with music and torches, and a large crowd of friends,
many of whom carry regular pyramids of tapers; that well known kind
of firework, the Bengal-fire, with its beautiful light-blue flame, is
also in requisition for the evening’s proceedings.

On arriving at the bridegroom’s house, the newly-married couple
alone are admitted; the rest remain outside playing, singing, and hallooing
until broad day.

I often heard Europeans remark that they considered the procession
of the nuptial couch extremely improper.  But as the old saying
goes—“A man can see the mote in his neighbour’s eye
when he cannot perceive the beam in his own;” and it struck me
that the manner in which marriages are managed among the Europeans who
are settled here, is much more unbecoming.  It is a rule with the
English, that on the day appointed for the marriage, which takes place
towards evening, the bridegroom shall not see his bride before he meets
her at the altar.  An infringement of this regulation would be
shocking.  In case the two who are about to marry should have anything
to say to each other, they are obliged to do so in writing.  Scarcely,
however, has the clergyman pronounced the benediction, ere the new married
couple are packed off together in a carriage, and sent to spend a week
in some hotel in the vicinity of the town.  For this purpose, either
the hotel at Barrackpore or one of two or three houses at Gardenrich
is selected.  In case all the lodgings should be occupied, a circumstance
of by no means rare occurrence, since almost all marriages are celebrated
in the months of November and December, a boat containing one or two
cabins is hired, and the young people are condemned to pass the next
eight days completely shut up from all their friends, and even the parents
themselves are not allowed access to their children.

I am of opinion that a girl’s modesty must suffer much from
these coarse customs.  How the poor creature must blush on entering
the place selected for her imprisonment; and how each look, each grin
of the landlord, waiters, or boatmen, must wound her feelings!

The worthy Germans, who think everything excellent that does not
emanate from themselves, copy this custom most conscientiously.

CHAPTER XII.  BENARES.

DEPARTURE FROM CALCUTTA—ENTRANCE INTO THE GANGES—RAJMAHAL—GUR—JUNGHERA—MONGHYR—PATNA—DEINAPOOR—GESIPOOR—BENARES—RELIGION
OF THE HINDOOS—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—PALACES AND TEMPLES—THE
HOLY PLACES—THE HOLY APES—THE RUINS OF SARANTH—AN
INDIGO PLANTATION—A VISIT TO THE RAJAH OF BENARES—MARTYRS
AND FAKIRS—THE INDIAN PEASANT—THE MISSIONARY ESTABLISHMENT.

On the 10th of December, after a stay of more than five weeks, I
left Calcutta for Benares.  The journey may be performed either
by land, or else by water, on the Ganges.  By land, the distance
is 470 miles; by water, 800 miles during the rainy season, and 465 miles
more during the dry months, as the boats are compelled to take very
circuitous routes to pass from the Hoogly, through the Sonderbunds,
into the Ganges.

The land journey is performed in post-palanquins, carried by men,
who, like horses, are changed every four or six miles.  The traveller
proceeds by night as well as day, and at each station finds people ready
to receive him, as a circular from the post-office is always sent a
day or two before, to prepare them for his arrival.  At night the
train is increased by the addition of a torch-bearer, to scare off the
wild beasts by the glare of his torch.  The travelling expenses
for one person are about 200 rupees (£20), independent of the
luggage, which is reckoned separately.

The journey by water can be accomplished in steamers, one of which
leaves almost every week for Allahabad (135 miles beyond Benares). 
The journey occupies from fourteen to twenty days, as, on account of
the numerous sand-banks, it is impossible for the vessel to proceed
on her course except in the day-time, and even then it is by no means
unusual for her to run aground, especially when the water is low.

The fares to Benares are: first cabin, 257 rupees (£25 14s.);
second cabin, 216 rupees (£21 12s.).  Provisions, without
wine or spirits, three rupees (6s.) a day.

As I had heard so much of the magnificent banks of the Ganges, and
of the important towns situated on them, I determined to go by water.

On the 8th of December, according to the advertisement, the steamer
“General Macleod,” 140 horse-power, commanded by Captain
Kellar, was to leave her moorings; but on going on board, I received
the gratifying intelligence that we should have to wait twenty-four
hours, which twenty-four hours were extended to as much again, so that
we did not actually set off before 11 o’clock on the morning of
the 10th.  We first proceeded down the stream to the sea as far
as Katcherie, and on the following day we rounded Mud Point, and entered
the Sonderbunds, where we beat about as far as Culna.  From there
we proceeded up the Gury, a large tributary stream flowing into the
Ganges below Rumpurbolea.  During the first few days, the scenery
was monotonous to the highest degree; there were neither towns nor villages
to be seen; the banks were flat, and the prospect everywhere bounded
by tall, thick bushes, which the English term jungles, that is
to say, “virgin forests.”  For my own part, I could
see no “virgin forests,” as by this term I understand a
forest of mighty trees.  During the night, we heard, from time
to time, the roaring of tigers.  These animals are pretty abundant
in these parts, and frequently attack the natives if they happen to
remain out late wooding.  I was shown the tattered fragment of
a man’s dress, hung upon a bush, to commemorate the fact of a
native having been torn to pieces there by one of these beasts. 
But they are not the only foes that man has to dread here; the Ganges
contains quite as deadly ones, namely—the ravenous crocodiles. 
These may be seen in groups of six or eight, sunning themselves on the
slimy banks of the river or on the numerous sandbanks.  They vary
in length from six to fifteen feet.  On the approach of the steamer,
several started up, affrighted by the noise, and glided hastily into
the dirty yellow stream.

The different branches of the Sonderbunds and the Gury are often
so narrow that there is hardly room for two vessels to pass each other;
while, on the other hand, they frequently expand into lakes that are
miles across.  In spite, too, of the precaution of only proceeding
by day, on account of the numerous sandbanks and shallows, accidents
are of frequent occurrence.  We ourselves did not come off scot
free.  In one of the narrow branches I have alluded to, while our
vessel was stopped to allow another to pass, one of the two ships that
we had in tow came with such violence against the steamer, that the
sides of a cabin were driven in: luckily, however, no one was injured.

In another arm of the river, two native vessels were lying at anchor. 
The crews were somewhat slow in perceiving us, and had not time to raise
their anchors before we came puffing up to them.  The captain did
not stop, as he thought there was room to pass, but turned the steamer’s
head so far in shore, that he ran into the bushes, and left some of
the blinds of the cabin-windows suspended as trophies behind him, whereat
he was so enraged, that he immediately dispatched two boats to cut the
poor creatures’ hawsers, thereby causing them to lose their anchors. 
This was another action worthy of a European!

Near Culna (358 miles from the sea), we entered the Gury, a considerable
tributary of the Ganges, which it flows into below Rumpurbolea. 
The jungles here recede, and their place is occupied by beautiful plantations
of rice, and other vegetables.  There was, too, no scarcity of
villages, only the huts, which were mostly built of straw and palm-leaves,
were small and wretched.  The appearance of the steamer soon collected
all the inhabitants, who left their fields and huts and greeted it with
loud huzzas.

15th December.  This evening we struck, for the first time,
on a sandbank.  It cost us some trouble before we could get off
again.

16th December.  We had entered the Ganges yesterday.  At
a late hour this evening we hove to near the little village of Commercolly. 
The inhabitants brought provisions of every description on board, and
we had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the prices of the
various articles.  A fine wether cost four rupees (8s.); eighteen
fowls, a rupee (2s.); a fish, weighing several pounds, an anna (1½d.);
eight eggs, an anna; twenty oranges, two annas (3d.); a pound of fine
bread, three beis (ld.); and yet, in spite of these ludicrously cheap
prices, the captain charged each passenger three rupees (6s.) a-day
for his board, which was not even passable!  Many of the passengers
made purchases here of eggs, new bread, and oranges, and the captain
was actually not ashamed to let these articles, which were paid for
out of our own pockets, appear at his table that we all paid so dearly
for.

18th December.  Bealeah, a place of considerable importance,
noted for the number of its prisons.  It is a depot for criminals,
{158a} who are
sent here from all parts.  The prisoners here cannot be so desirous
of escaping as those in Europe, for I saw numbers of them, very slightly
ironed, wandering about in groups or alone, in the place itself and
its vicinity, without having any gaolers with them.  They are properly
taken care of, and employed in various kinds of light work.  There
is a paper manufactory, which is almost entirely carried on by them.

The inhabitants appeared to possess a more than usual degree of fanaticism. 
I and another passenger, Herr Lau, had gone to take a walk in the place,
and were about to enter a small street in which there was a Hindoo temple;
but no sooner, however, did the people perceive our intention, than
they set up a horrible yelling, and pressed on us so closely, that we
held it advisable to restrain our curiosity and turn back.

19th December.  Today we perceived the low ranges of the Rajmahal
Hills, the first we had seen since we left Madras.  In the evening,
we were again stuck fast upon a sandbank.  We remained tolerably
quiet during the night, but, as soon as it was morning, every possible
means were adopted to get us off again.  The vessels we had in
tow were cast off, our steam got up to its highest pitch; the sailors,
too, exerted themselves indefatigably, and at noon we were stuck just
as fast as we were the evening before.  About this time, we perceived
a steamer on its way from Allahabad to Calcutta; but our captain hoisted
no signals of distress, being very much vexed that he should be seen
by a comrade in such a position.  The captain of the other vessel,
however, offered his assistance of his own accord but his offer was
coldly and curtly refused, and it was not until after several hours
of the most strenuous exertion that we succeeded in getting off the
bank into deep water.

In the course of the day, we touched at Rajmahal, {158b}
a large village, which, on account of the thick woods and numerous swamps
and morasses around it, is reckoned a most unhealthy place.

It was here that Gur, one of the largest towns of India, once stood. 
It is said to have been twenty square miles in extent, and to have contained
about two millions of inhabitants, and, according to the latest books
of travels, the most splendid and considerable ruins are still to be
seen there.  Those of the so-called “Golden Mosque”
are especially remarkable, being very fine and faced with marble; the
gateways are celebrated for their great width of span and the solidity
of their side walls.

As there was, fortunately, a depot for coals here, we were allowed
a few hours to do as we liked.  The younger passengers seized the
opportunity to go out shooting, being attracted by the splendid forests,
the finest I had as yet seen in India.  It was certainly reported
that they were very much infested with tigers, but this deterred no
one.

I also engaged in the chase—although it was one of a different
description.  I penetrated far and wide, through forest and swamp,
in order to discover the ruins.  I was successful; but how meagre
and wretched they were!  The most important were those of two common
city-gates, built of sandstone and ornamented with a few handsome sculptures,
but without any arches or cupolas.  One inconsiderable temple,
with four corner towers, was in several places covered with very fine
cement.  Besides these, there were a few other ruins or single
fragments of buildings and pillars scattered around, but all of them
together do not cover a space of two square miles.

On the border of the forest, or some hundred paces farther in, were
situated a number of huts belonging to the natives, approached by picturesque
paths running beneath shady avenues of trees.  In Bealeah, the
people were very fanatic, while here the men were very jealous. 
At the conclusion of my excursion, one of the gentlemen passengers had
joined me, and we directed our steps towards the habitations of the
natives.  As soon as the men saw my companion, they called out
to their wives, and ordered them to take refuge in the huts.  The
women ran in from all directions, but remained very quietly at the doors
of their dwellings to see us pass, and quite forgot to conceal their
faces while they did so.

In these parts, there are whole woods of cocoa-palms.  This
tree is properly a native of India, where it attains a height of eighty
feet, and bears fruit in its sixth year.  In other countries, it
is scarcely fifty feet high, and does not bear fruit before it is twelve
or fifteen years old.  This tree is, perhaps, the most useful one
in the known world.  It produces large and nutritious fruit, excellent
milk, large leaves that are used for covering in and roofing huts, materials
for strong cordage, the clearest oil for burning, mats, woven stuffs,
colouring matter, and even a kind of drink called surr, toddy, or palm
brandy, and obtained by incisions made in the crown of the tree, to
which, during an entire month, the Hindoos climb up every morning and
evening, making incisions in the stem and hanging pots underneath to
catch the sap which oozes out.  The rough condition of the bark
facilitates considerably the task of climbing up the tree.  The
Hindoos tie a strong cord round the trunk and their own body, and another
round their feet, which they fix firmly against the tree; they then
raise themselves up, drawing the upper rope with their hands and the
lower one with the points of their feet, after them.  I have seen
them climb the highest trees in this manner with the greatest ease in
two minutes at the most.  Round their bodies they have a belt,
to which are suspended a knife and one or two small jars.

The sap is at first quite clear, and agreeably sweet, but begins,
in six or eight hours’ time, to ferment, and then assumes a whitish
tint, while its flavour becomes disagreeably acid.  From this,
with the addition of some rice, is manufactured strong arrack. 
A good tree will yield above a gallon of this sap in four-and-twenty
hours, but during the year in which the sap is thus extracted, it bears
no fruit.

21st December.  About 80 miles below Rajmahal, we passed three
rather steep rocks rising out of the Ganges.  The largest is about
sixty feet high; the next in size, which is overgrown with bushes, is
the residence of a Fakir, whom the true believers supply with provisions. 
We could not see the holy man, as it was beginning to grow dark as we
passed.  This, however, did not cause us so much regret, as that
we were unable to visit the Botanical Garden at Bogulpore, which is
said to be the finest in all India; but as there was no coal depot at
Bogulpore, we did not stop.

On the 22nd of December, we passed the remarkable mountain scenery
of Junghera, which rises, like an island of rocks, from the majestic
Ganges.  This spot was, in former times, looked on as the holiest
in the whole course of the river.  Thousands of boats and larger
vessels were constantly to be seen there, as no Hindoo believed he could
die in peace without having visited the place.  Numerous Fakirs
had established themselves here, strengthening the poor pilgrims with
unctuous exhortations, and taking in return their pious gifts. 
The neighbourhood has, however, at present, lost its reputation for
sanctity, and the offerings received are scarcely sufficient to maintain
two or three Fakirs.

In the evening we stopped near Monghyr, {160a}
a tolerably large town, with some old fortifications.  The most
conspicuous object is a cemetery, crowded with monuments.  The
monuments are so peculiar, that had I not seen similar ones in the cemeteries
of Calcutta, I should never have imagined that they belonged to any
sect of Christians.  There were temples, pyramids, immense catafalques,
kiosks, etc., all massively built of tiles.  The extent of this
cemetery is quite disproportioned to the number of Europeans in Monghyr;
but the place is said to be the most unhealthy in India, so that when
a European is ordered there for any number of years, he generally takes
a last farewell of all his friends.

Six miles hence, there are some hot springs, which are looked upon
by the natives as sacred.

We had lost sight of the Rajmahal Hills at Bogulpore; on both sides
of the river, nothing was now to be seen but an uninterrupted succession
of flat plains.

24th December.  Patna, {160b}
one of the largest and most ancient cities of Bengal, with a population
of about 300,000 souls, {161}
consists of a long, broad street, eight miles long, with numerous short
alleys running into it.  The houses, which are mostly constructed
of mud, struck me as particularly small and wretched.  Under the
projecting roofs are exposed for sale goods and provisions of the simplest
kind.  That part of the street in which the greatest number of
these miserable shops are situated, is dignified by the grand name of
the “Bazaar.”  The few houses of a better description
might easily be counted without any very great trouble; they are built
of tiles, and surrounded by wooden galleries and colonnades prettily
carved.  In these houses were to be found the best and finest shops.

The temples of the Hindoos, the Ghauts (flights of steps, halls,
and gateways) on the Ganges, like the mosques of the Mahomedans, always
look a great deal better at a distance than they do on a nearer inspection. 
The only objects worthy of notice which I saw here, were a few bell-shaped
mausoleums, like those in Ceylon, which they greatly surpassed in size,
although not in artistic beauty; they were certainly more than 200 feet
in circumference, and eighty feet in height.  Excessively narrow
entrances, with simple doors, conduct into the interior.  On the
outside, two small flights of steps, forming a semicircle, lead up to
the top.  The doors were not opened for us, and we were obliged
to content ourselves with the assurance that, with the exception of
a small, plain sarcophagus there was nothing inside.

Patna is a place of great importance, from the trade in opium, by
which many of the natives acquire large fortunes.  As a general
rule, they make no display of their riches, either as regards their
clothes, or in any other public kind of luxury.  There are only
two sorts of dress—one for those in easy circumstances, which
is like that of the Orientals, and one for the poorest classes, which
consists of a piece of cloth bound round the loins.

The principal street presents a bustling appearance, being much frequented
by carriages, as well as pedestrians.  The Hindoos, like the Jews,
are such determined foes to walking, that they do not think the worst
place in the most wretched cart beneath their acceptance.

The vehicles in most general use are narrow, wooden cars upon two
wheels, and composed of four posts with cross-beams.  Coloured
woollen stuff is hung over these, and a kind of canopy keeps off the
sun.  There is properly only room for two persons, although I have
seen three or four crowded into them.  This put me in mind of the
Italians, who fill a carriage so that not even the steps are left vacant. 
These cars are called baili.  They are closely curtained
when women travel in them.

I expected to see the streets here full of camels and elephants,
since I had read so much about it in some descriptions: but I saw only
bailis drawn by oxen and a few horsemen, but neither camels nor elephants.

Towards evening we drove to Deinapore, {162}
which is eight miles from Patna, along an excellent post-road, planted
with handsome trees.

Deinapore is one of the largest English military stations, and contains
extensive barracks, which almost constitute a town in themselves. 
The town is but a short distance from the barracks.  There are
many Mahomedans among the inhabitants, who surpass the Hindoos in industry
and perseverance.

I here saw elephants for the first time on the Indian continent. 
In a serai outside the town there were eight large handsome animals.

When we returned to the ship in the evening, we found it like a camp. 
All kinds of articles were brought there and laid out for inspection;
but the shoemakers were particularly numerous.  Their work appeared
neat and lasting, and remarkably cheap.  A pair of men’s
boots, for example, cost from one and a half to two rupees (3s. to 4s.);
but it is true that twice as much is always asked for them.  I
saw on this occasion the way in which the European sailors conduct bargains
with the natives.  One of the engineers wanted to buy a pair of
shoes, and offered a quarter of the price asked.  The seller, not
consenting to this, took his goods back; but the engineer snatched them
out of his hand, threw down a few beis more than what he had offered,
and hastened to his cabin.  The shoemaker pursued him, and demanded
the shoes back; instead of which he received several tough blows, and
was threatened that if he was not quiet he should be compelled to leave
the ship immediately.  The poor creature returned half crying to
his pack of goods.

A similar occurrence took place on the same evening.  A Hindoo
boy brought a box for one of the travellers, and asked for a small payment
for his trouble; he was not listened to.  The boy remained standing
by, repeating his request now and then.  He was driven away, and
as he would not go quietly, blows were had recourse to.  The captain
happened to pass accidentally, and asked what was the matter. 
The boy, sobbing, told him; the captain shrugged his shoulders, and
the boy was put out of the ship.

How many similar and even more provoking incidents have I seen? 
The so-called “barbarian and heathen people” have good reason
to hate us.  Wherever the Europeans go they will not give any reward,
but only orders and commands; and their rule is generally much more
oppressive than that of the natives.

26th December.  The custom of exposing dying people on the banks
of the Ganges, does not appear to be so general as some travellers state. 
We sailed on the river for fourteen days, during which time we passed
many thickly populated towns and villages, and did not meet with a single
case until today.  The dying man lay close to the water, and several
men, probably his relations, were seated round him, awaiting his decease. 
One dipped water and mud out of the river with his hands, and put them
to the nose and mouth of the dying man.  The Hindoos believe that
if they die at the river with their mouths full of the holy water, they
are quite certain to go to heaven.  His relations or friends remain
by the dying man till sunset, when they go home, and leave him to his
fate.  He generally falls a prey to crocodiles.  I very seldom
saw any floating corpses; only two during the whole journey.  Most
of the corpses are burnt.

27th December.  Ghazipoor is an important place, and is remarkable
at a distance for its handsome ghauts.  Here stands a pretty monument
erected to the memory of Lord Cornwallis, who conquered Tippoo Saib
in 1790.  Very near is a large establishment for training horses,
which is said to turn out remarkably fine ones.  But Ghazipoor
is most remarkable for its enormous rose-fields, and the rose-water
and attar prepared here.  The latter is obtained in the following
manner:—

Upon forty pounds of roses, with the calixes, sixty pounds of water
are poured, and the whole is distilled over a slow fire.  From
this, about thirty pounds of rose-water are obtained.  Another
forty pounds of roses are again added to this, and, at the utmost, twenty
pounds of water distilled off.  This is then exposed during the
night to the cold air in pans, and in the morning the oil is found swimming
upon the surface and is skimmed off.  Not more than an ounce and
a half of attar, at the utmost, is obtained from eighty pounds of roses. 
An ounce of true attar costs, even at Ghazipoor, 40 rupees (£4).

At 10 o’clock on the morning of the 28th, we at length reached
the holy town of Benares.  We anchored near Radschgaht, where coolies
and camels were ready to receive us.

Before taking leave of the Ganges, I must remark that, during the
whole journey of about a thousand miles, I did not meet with a single
spot remarkable for its especial beauty, or one picturesque view. 
The banks are either flat or bounded by layers of earth ten or twenty
feet in height, and, further inland, sandy plains alternate with plantations
or dried-up meadows and miserable jungles.  There are, indeed,
a great number of towns and villages, but, with the exception of occasional
handsome houses and the ghauts, they are composed of a collection of
huts.  The river itself is frequently divided into several branches,
and is sometimes so broad that it resembles a sea rather than a river,
for the banks are scarcely visible.

Benares is the most sacred town of India.  It is to the Hindoos
what Mecca is to the Mahomedans, or Rome to the Catholics.  The
belief of the Hindoos in its holiness is such that, according to their
opinion, every man will be saved who remains twenty-four hours in the
town, without reference to his religion.  This noble toleration
is one of the finest features in the religion and character of this
people, and puts to shame the prejudices of many Christian sects.

The number of pilgrims amounts annually to 300,000 or 400,000, and
the town is one of the most wealthy in the country, through their trading,
sacrifices, and gifts.

This may not be an improper place to make some remarks upon the religion
of these interesting people, which I extract from Zimmerman’s
“Handbook of Travels.”

“The foundation of the Hindoo faith is the belief in a superior
primitive being, immortality, and a reward of virtue.  The chief
idea of God is so great and beautiful, its moral so pure and elevated,
that its equal has not been found among any other people.

“Their creed is to worship the highest Being, to invoke their
guardian gods, to be well-disposed towards their fellow-men, to pity
the unfortunate and help them, to bear patiently the inconveniences
of life, not to lie or break their word, to read the sacred histories
and to give heed to them, not to talk much, to fast, pray, and to bathe
at stated periods.  These are the general duties which the sacred
writings of the Hindoos enforce, without exception, upon all castes
or sects.

“Their true and only god is called ‘Brahma,’ which
must not be confounded with Brahma who was created by the former, who
is the true, eternal, holy, and unchangeable light of all time and space. 
The wicked are punished and the good rewarded.

“Out of the Eternal Being proceeded the goddess Bhavani, i.e.,
Nature, and a host of 1,180 million spirits.  Among these there
are three demi-gods or superior spirits, Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva,
the Hindoo Trinity, called by them Trimurti.

“For a long time, happiness and content prevailed; but they
afterwards revolted, and many gave up their allegiance.  The rebels
were cast down from on high into the pit of darkness.  Hereupon
succeeded the transmigration of souls; every animal and every plant
was animated by one of the fallen angels, and the remarkable amiability
of the Hindoos towards animals is owing to this belief.  They look
upon them as their fellow-creatures, and will not put any of them to
death.

“The Hindoo reverences the great purpose of nature, the production
of organized bodies, in the most disinterested and pious manner. 
Everything tending to this end is to him venerable and holy, and it
is in this respect alone that he worships the Lingam.

“It may be affirmed, that the superstitions of this creed have
only gradually become an almost senseless delusion through corruption
and misunderstanding.

“In order to judge of the present state of their religion,
it will be sufficient to describe the figures of a few of their chief
deities.

“Brahma, as the creator of the world, is represented with four
human heads and eight hands; in one hand he holds the scriptures, in
the others, various idols.  He is not worshipped in any temple,
having lost this prerogative on account of his ambitious desire to find
out the Supreme Being.  However, after repenting of his folly,
it was permitted that the Brahmins might celebrate some festivals in
his honour, called Poutsché.

“Vishnu, as the maintainer of the world, is represented in
twenty-one different forms:—Half fish half man, as tortoise, half
lion half man, Buddha, dwarf, etc.  The wife of Vishnu is worshipped
as the goddess of fruitfulness, plenty, and beauty.  The cow is
considered sacred to her.

“Shiva is the destroyer, revenger, and the conqueror of Death. 
He has, therefore, a double character, beneficent or terrible; he rewards
or punishes.  He is generally hideously represented, entirely surrounded
by lightning, with three eyes, the largest of which is in the forehead;
he has also eight arms, in each of which he holds something.

“Although these three deities are equal, the religion of the
Hindoos is divided into only two sects—the worshippers of Vishnu
and those of Shiva.  Brahma has no peculiar sect, since he is denied
temples and pagodas; however, the whole priestly caste—the Brahmins—may
be considered as his worshippers, since they affirm that they proceeded
from his head.

“The worshippers of Vishnu have on their foreheads a red or
yellowish painted sign of the Jani; the Shiva worshippers, the sign
of the Lingam, or an obelisk, triangle, or the sun.

“333,000,000 subordinate deities are recognised.  They
control the elements, natural phenomena, the passions, acts, diseases,
etc.  They are represented in different forms and having all kinds
of attributes.

“There are also genii, good and evil spirits.  The number
of the good exceeds that of the bad by about 3,000,000.

“Other objects are also considered sacred by the Hindoos, as
rivers, especially the Ganges, which is believed to have been formed
from the sweat of Shiva.  The water of the Ganges is so highly
esteemed, that a trade is carried on in it for many miles inland.

“Among animals, they chiefly look upon the cow, ox, elephant,
ape, eagle, swan, peacock, and serpent, as sacred; among plants, the
lotus, the banana, and the mango-tree.

“The Brahmins have an especial veneration for a stone, which
is, according to Sonnerat, a fossil ammonite in slate.

“It is in the highest degree remarkable that there is no representation
of the Supreme Being to be found in all Hindostan.  The idea appears
too great for them; they consider the whole earth as his temple, and
worship him under all forms.

“The adherents of Shiva bury their dead; the others either
burn them or throw them into the river.”

No one can form an accurate idea of India who has not gone beyond
Calcutta.  This city has become almost European.  The palaces,
the equipages are European; there are societies, balls, concerts, promenades,
almost the same as in Paris or London; and if it was not for the tawny
natives in the streets, and the Hindoo servants in the houses, a stranger
might easily forget that he was in a foreign country.

It is very different in Benares.  The Europeans are isolated
there; foreign customs and manners everywhere surround them, and remind
them that they are tolerated intruders.  Benares contains 300,000
inhabitants, of which scarcely 150 are Europeans.

The town is handsome, especially when seen from the river side, where
its defects are not observed.  Magnificent rows of steps, built
of colossal stones, lead up to the houses and palaces, and artistically
built gateways.  In the best part of the town, they form a continuous
line two miles in length.  These steps cost enormous sums of money,
and a large town might have been built with the stones employed for
them.

The handsome part of the town contains a great number of antique
palaces, in the Moorish, Gothic, and Hindoo styles, many of which are
six stories high.  The gates are most magnificent, and the fronts
of the palaces and houses are covered with masterly arabesques and sculptured
work; the different stories are richly ornamented with fine colonnades,
verandahs, balconies, and friezes.  The windows alone did not please
me; they were low, small, and seldom regularly arranged.  All the
houses and palaces have very broad sloping roofs and terraces. 
The innumerable temples afford a proof of the wealth and piety of the
inhabitants of this town.  Every Hindoo in good circumstances has
a temple in his house, i.e., a small tower, which is frequently
only twenty feet high.

The Hindoo temples consist properly of a tower thirty or sixty feet
in height, without windows, and having only a small entrance. 
They appear, especially at a distance, very striking and handsome, as
they are either artistically sculptured or richly covered with projecting
ornaments, such as pinnacles, small columns, pyramids, leaves, niches,
etc.

Unfortunately, many of these beautiful buildings are in ruins. 
The Ganges here and there undermines the foundations, and palaces and
temples sink into the soft earth or fall entirely down.  Miserable
little huts are in some places built upon these ruins, and disfigure
the fine appearance of the town, for even the ruins themselves are still
beautiful.

At sunrise, a spectacle is to be seen at the river which has not
its counterpart in the world.  The pious Hindoos come here to perform
their devotions; they step into the river, turn towards the sun, throw
three handsful of water upon their heads, and mutter their prayers. 
Taking into account the large population which Benares contains, besides
pilgrims, it will not be exaggeration to say that the daily number of
devotees amounts, on the average, to 50,000 persons.  Numbers of
Brahmins sit in small kiosks, or upon blocks of stone on the steps,
close to the water’s edge, to receive the charity of the wealthy,
and grant them absolution in return.

Every Hindoo must bathe at least once in the day, and particularly
in the morning; if he is pious and has time, he repeats the ceremony
again in the evening.  The women bathe at home.

At the time of the festival called Mala, when the concourse of pilgrims
is innumerable, the steps are crowded with masses of human beings, and
the river appears as if covered with black spots from the number of
the bathers’ heads.

The interior of the city is far less handsome than that portion which
extends along the Ganges.  It contains many palaces; but these
have not the same beautiful gateways, colonnades, and verandahs as those
already described.  Many of these buildings are covered with fine
cement, and others are painted with miserable frescoes.

The streets are for the most part both dirty and ugly, and many of
them are so narrow, that there is scarcely room for a palanquin to pass. 
At the corner of almost every house stands the figure of the god Shiva.

Among the temples in the town, the handsomest is the “Bisvishas:”
it has two towers connected by colonnades, with their summits covered
with golden plates.  The temple is surrounded by a wall, but we
were allowed to enter the fore-court, and to go as far as the entrance.
We saw inside several images of Vishnu and Shiva, wreathed with flowers,
and strewn over with grains of rice, wheat, etc.  Small bulls of
metal or stone stood in the porch, and living white bulls (of which
I counted eight) wandered about at liberty.  The latter are considered
sacred, and are allowed to roam where they please, and are not prevented
from satisfying their hunger with even the sacrificial flowers and corn.

These sacred animals do not remain in the temples only—they
wander about the streets; and the people turn reverently out of their
way, and frequently give them fodder.  They do not, however, allow
them to eat the corn exposed for sale, as was formerly the case. 
If one of the sacred animals happen to die, it is either thrown into
the river or burnt.  They receive in this respect the same honour
as the Hindoos themselves.

In the temple, there were men and women who had brought flowers,
with which they decorated the images.  Some of them also laid a
piece of money under the flowers.  They then sprinkled them over
with Ganges’ water, and strewed rice and other corn about.

Near the temple are the most holy places in the town, namely—the
so-called “holy well” and the Mankarnika, a large basin
of water.  The following anecdote is told of the former:—

When the English had conquered Benares, they planted a cannon before
the entrance of the temple to destroy the image of the god Mahadeo. 
The Brahmins, greatly indignant at this, instigated the people to revolt,
and they hastened in numerous crowds to the temple.  The English,
to prevent a disturbance, said to the people: “If your god is
stronger than the Christian God, the balls will not hurt him; but if
not, he will be broken to pieces.”  Of course; the latter
was the result.  The Brahmins, however, did not give up their cause,
but declared that they had seen the spirit of their god leave the idol
before the cannon was fired, and plunge into the spring near at hand. 
From this time the spring was considered sacred.

The Mankarnika is a deep basin, paved with stone, about sixty feet
long, and of equal breadth; broad steps lead from the four sides into
the water.  A similar tradition, but connected with the god Shiva,
is attached to this place.  Both deities are said to have continued
to reside in these waters down to the present day.  Every pilgrim
who visits Benares must, on his arrival, bathe in this holy pool, and,
at the same time, make a small offering.  Several Brahmins are
always present to receive these gifts.  They are in no way distinguished
by their dress from the bulk of the better classes, but the colour of
their skin is clearer, and many of them have very noble features.

Fifty paces from this pool, on the banks of the Ganges, stands a
remarkably handsome Hindoo temple, with three towers.  Unfortunately,
the ground sunk in a few years since, and the towers were thrown out
of their proper position: one inclines to the right and the other to
the left; the third is almost sunk into the Ganges.

Among the thousand of other temples, there is here and there one
which is worth the trouble of a cursory inspection, but I would not
advise any one to go much out of their way on their account.  The
place for burning the dead is very near the holy pool.  When we
went there, they were just roasting a corpse—the mode of burning
cannot be described by any other name, the fire was so small, and the
corpse projected over on all sides.

Among the other buildings, the Mosque Aurang Zeb is most worthy of
the notice of travellers.  It is famous on account of its two minarets,
which are 150 feet high, and are said to be the slenderest in the world. 
They look like two needles, and certainly are more deserving of the
name than that of Cleopatra at Alexandria.  Narrow winding staircases
in the interior lead to the top, upon which a small platform, with a
balustrade a foot high, is erected.  It is fortunate for those
who are not subject to dizziness.  They can venture out, and take
a bird’s-eye view of the endless sea of houses, and the innumerable
Hindoo temples; the Ganges also, with its step quays, miles long, lies
exposed below.  I was told that on very clear, fine days, a distant
chain of mountains was perceivable—the day was fine and clear,
but I could not see the mountains.

The observatory is a very remarkable and artistic building. 
It was built by Dscheising, under the intelligent Emperor Akbar, more
than two centuries since.  There are no ordinary telescopes to
be found there: all the instruments are constructed of massive blocks
of stone.  Upon a raised terrace, to which stone steps lead, stand
circular tables, semicircular and quadratic curves, etc. which are covered
with signs, writing, and lines. With these instruments, the Brahmins
made, and still make, their observations and calculations.  We
met with several Brahmins busily engaged with calculations and written
treatises.

Benares is on the whole the chief seat of Indian learning. 
Among the Brahmins, 6,000 in number, I was told there were many who
give instruction in astronomy, Sanscrit, and other scientific subjects.

The sacred apes are another of the curiosities of Benares. 
Their principal location is upon some of the immense mango-trees in
the suburbs of Durgakund.  The animals seemed as if they knew we
had come to see them, for they approached quite close to us; but when
the servant, whom I had sent for some food for them, returned, and called
them to him, it was amusing to see the merry creatures come running
from the trees, the roofs of the houses, and the streets.  We were
in a moment closely surrounded by several hundreds, who fought together
in the most comical manner for the fruits and grain.  The largest
or oldest acted as commander.  Wherever there was quarrelling,
he rushed in, and commenced thrashing the combatants, threatening them
with his teeth, and making a muttering sound, upon which they immediately
separated.  It was the largest and most comical party of monkeys
I ever saw.  They were generally more than two feet high, and their
skins were a dirty yellow colour.

My kind host took me one day to Sarnath (five miles from Benares),
where there are some interesting ruins of three remarkably massive towers. 
They are not particularly high, and stand upon three artificially raised
mounds, a mile distant from each other.  Both the mounds and towers
are constructed of large bricks.  The largest of these towers is
still covered in many places with stone slabs, on which traces of arabesques
are here and there visible.  Numbers of slabs lie scattered about
the ground.  There are no signs of any such covering on the remaining
towers.  In each there is a small door and a single apartment.

Excavations were commenced beneath these towers by the English government
in the hope of making some discoveries which would throw light upon
the origin of these buildings; but nothing was found beyond an empty
underground vault.

There is a lake close by of artificial construction, which is supplied
with water from the Ganges by a canal.

There is a very singular tradition connected with these towers and
the lake.  “In very ancient times three brothers ruled here,
who were giants, and had these buildings erected and the lake excavated,
and all in one day.  It must, however, be known that a day at that
time was equal to two years of modern reckoning.  The giants were
so tall that they could go from one tower to the other with a step,
and the reason these were built so close was their fondness for each
other, and their desire to be always together.”

An indigo plantation in the neighbourhood, the first I ever saw,
was not less interesting to me than these towers and their singular
tradition.  The indigo plant is herbaceous, and from one to three
feet high, with delicate bluish-green leaves.  The harvest is generally
in August; the plants are cut tolerably low on the principal stem, tied
together in bundles, and thrown into large wooden vats.  Planks
are laid on the tops of the bundles weighted with stones, and water
poured on them; generally after sixteen hours, though sometimes after
several days, according to the character of the water, fermentation
commences.  This is the principal difficulty, and everything depends
upon its continuance for the proper time.  When the water has acquired
a dark-green colour, it is transferred to other wooden vessels, lime
added, and the whole stirred with wooden spades until a blue deposit
takes place.  After being allowed to settle, the water is poured
off, and the substance remaining behind is put into long linen bags
through which the moisture filters.  As soon as the indigo is dry,
it is broken in pieces and packed.

Shortly before my departure I had the pleasure of being presented
to the Rajah through the aid of my fellow-traveller, Mr. Law. 
He resides in the Citadel Rhamnughur, which lies on the left bank of
the Ganges, above the town.

A handsomely ornamented boat awaited us at the bank of the river,
and on the other side a palanquin.  We soon found ourselves at
the entrance of the palace, the gateway of which is lofty and majestic. 
I expected to have been gratified in the interior by the sight of spacious
courts and a handsome style of architecture, but found only irregular
courts and small unsymmetrical apartments, destitute of all taste and
luxury.  In one of the courts was a plain-columned hall on the
level of the ground, which served as a reception-room.  This hall
was overcrowded with glass lustres, lamps, and European furniture; on
the walls were some miserable pictures, framed and glazed.  Outside
was a swarm of servants, who gazed at us with great attention. 
Presently the prince made his appearance, accompanied by his brother,
and some courtiers and attendants, who could scarcely be distinguished
the one from the other.

The two princes were very richly dressed; they wore wide trousers,
long under and short over garments, all made of satin, embroidered with
gold.  The elder one, aged thirty-five, wore short silk cuffs,
embroidered with gold, the edge set with diamonds; he had several large
brilliant rings on his finger, and his silk shoes were covered with
beautiful gold embroidery.  His brother, a youth of nineteen, whom
he had adopted, {170}
wore a white turban with a costly clasp of diamonds and pearls. 
He had large pearls hanging from his ears, and rich massive bracelets
on his wrists.  The elder prince was a handsome man, with exceedingly
amiable and intellectual features; the younger one pleased me far less.

We had scarcely seated ourselves, when a large silver basin with
elaborately worked nargillys were brought, and we were invited to smoke. 
We declined this honour, and the prince smoked alone; he took only a
few whiffs from the same nargilly, which was then replaced by another
handsomer one.

The behaviour of the princes was very decorous and lively. 
I regretted that we could communicate only through an interpreter. 
He inquired whether I had ever seen a Natsch (festival dance). 
On my answering that I had not, he immediately ordered one to be performed.

In half an hour two female dancers and three musicians appeared. 
The dancers were dressed in gay gold-embroidered muslin, wide silk trousers,
embroidered with gold, which reached to the ground, and quite covered
their bare feet.  One of the musicians played upon two small drums,
the other two on four-stringed instruments, similar to our violins. 
They stood close behind the dancers, and played without melody or harmony;
the dancers making at the same time very animated motions with their
arms, hands, and fingers, more than with their feet, on which they wore
silver bells, which they rung at intervals.  They made handsome
and graceful drapings and figures with their over garments.  This
performance lasted about a quarter of an hour, after which they accompanied
the dance with singing.  The two sylphides shrieked so miserably
that I was in fear for my ears and nerves.

During the performance, sweetmeats, fruits, and sherbet (a cooling,
sweet, acidulated beverage) were handed round.

After the dance was ended, the prince asked if I would like to see
his garden, which is a mile distant from the palace.  I was indiscreet
enough to accept his offer.

In company with the young prince we proceeded to the front square
of the palace, where elegantly ornamented elephants stood ready. 
The elder prince’s favourite elephant, an animal of uncommon size
and beauty, was destined for myself and Mr. Law.  A scarlet canopy,
with tassels, fringes, and gold embroidered lace, nearly covered the
whole animal.  A convenient seat was placed upon his broad back,
which might be compared to a phaeton without wheels.  The elephant
was made to kneel down, a ladder was placed against his side, and Mr.
Law and myself took our places.  Behind us sat a servant, who held
an enormously large umbrella over our heads.  The driver sat upon
the neck of the animal, and pricked it now and then between the ears
with a sharp-pointed iron rod.

The young prince, with his attendant and servants, took their places
upon the other elephants.  Several officers on horseback rode at
our side, two soldiers with drawn sabres ran in front of the party to
clear the way, and upwards of a dozen soldiers, also with drawn sabres,
surrounded us, while a few mounted soldiers brought up the rear.

Although the motion of the elephant is quite as jolting and unpleasant
as that of the camel, this truly Indian ride afforded me great pleasure.

When we had arrived at the garden, the young prince seemed by his
proud look to ask whether we were not charmed with its magnificence. 
Our delight was unfortunately assumed, for the garden was far too plain
to deserve much praise.  In the back-ground of the garden stands
a somewhat ruinous royal summer palace.

As we were about leaving the garden, the gardener brought us some
beautiful nosegays and delicious fruits—a custom universal in
India.

Outside the garden was a very large water-basin, covered with handsome
blocks of stone; broad steps led up to the water, and at the corner
stood beautiful kiosks, ornamented with tolerably well-executed reliefs.

The Rajah of Benares receives from the English government an annual
pension of one lac, that is, 100,000 rupees (£10,000).  He
is said to receive as much more from his property, and nevertheless
to be very much in debt.  The causes of this are his great extravagance
in clothes and jewellery, his numerous wives, servants, horses, camels,
and elephants, etc.  I was told that the prince has forty wives,
about a thousand servants and soldiers, a hundred horses, fifty camels,
and twenty elephants.

On the following morning the Rajah sent to inquire how the excursion
had pleased us, and presented me with confectionery, sweetmeats, and
the rarest fruits; among others, grapes and pomegranates, which at this
time of the year are scarce.  They came from Cabul, which is about
700 miles distant from this place.

Finally, I must mention that for many years no one has died in the
palace which the Rajah occupies.  The reason of this is said to
be the following:—“One of the rulers of this palace once
asked a Brahmin what would become of the soul of any one who died in
the palace.  The Brahmin answered that it would go to heaven. 
The Rajah repeated the same question ninety-nine times, and always received
the same answer.  But on asking the hundredth time, the Brahmin
lost patience, and answered that it would go into a donkey.” 
Since that time every one, from the prince to the meanest servant, leaves
the palace as soon as they feel themselves unwell.  None of them
are desirous of continuing after death the part which they have, perhaps,
so frequently commenced in this life.

While in Benares I had two opportunities of seeing the so-called
martyrs of the Fakirs (a priestly sect of the Hindoos).  These
martyrs impose upon themselves the most various tortures: for example,
they stick an iron hook through their flesh, and have themselves drawn
up to a height of twenty or five-and-twenty feet; or they stand several
hours in the day upon one foot, and at the same time stretch their arms
in the air, or hold heavy weights in various positions, turn round in
a circle for hours together, tear the flesh off their bodies, etc. 
They frequently torment themselves so much as to be in danger of their
lives.  These martyrs are still tolerably venerated by the people;
however, there are at the present time but a few more remaining. 
One of the two whom I saw, held a heavy axe over his head, and had taken
the bent attitude of a workman hewing wood.  I watched him for
more than a quarter of an hour; he remained in the same position as
firmly and quietly as if he had been turned to stone.  He had,
perhaps, exercised this useless occupation for years.  The other
held the point of his foot to his nose.

Another sect of the Fakirs condemn themselves to eat only a little
food, and that of the most disgusting kind: the flesh of oxen that have
died, half-rotten vegetables, and refuse of every kind, even mud and
earth; they say that it is quite immaterial what the stomach is filled
with.

The Fakirs all go about almost naked, smear their bodies with cow-dung,
not even excepting the face; and then strew ashes over themselves. 
They paint their breasts and foreheads with the symbolical figures of
Vishnu and Shiva, and dye their ragged hair dark reddish brown. 
It is not easy to imagine anything more disgusting and repulsive than
these priests.  They wander about all the streets, preaching and
doing whatever they fancy; they are, however, far less respected than
the martyrs.

One of the gentlemen whose acquaintance I made in Benares, was so
obliging as to communicate to me some information as to the relation
of the peasants to the government.  The peasant has no landed property. 
All the land belongs either to the English government, the East India
Company, or the native princes.  It is let out altogether; the
principal tenants divide it into small lots, and sublet these to the
peasants.  The fate of the latter depends entirely upon the disposition
of the principal tenant.  He determines the amount of rent, and
frequently demands the money at a time when the crops are not harvested,
and the peasant cannot pay; the poor people are then obliged to sell
the unripe crops for half their worth, and their landlord generally
contrives to buy it himself in the name of another person.  The
unfortunate peasant frequently has scarcely a sufficiency left to keep
life in himself and his family.

Laws and judges there certainly are in the country, and, as everywhere
else, the laws are good and the magistrates just; but it is another
question whether the poor ever receive justice.  The districts
are so extensive, that the peasant cannot undertake a journey of seventy
or eighty miles; and even when he lives near, he cannot always reach
the presence of the magistrate.  The business of the latter is
so great, that he cannot himself attend to the details, and generally
he is the only European in office, the remaining officials consisting
of Hindoos and Mahomedans, whose character—a lamentable fact—is
always worse the more they come in contact with Europeans.  If,
therefore, the peasant comes to the court without bringing a present,
he is generally turned away, his petition or complaint is not accepted
or listened to; and how is he to bring a present after being deprived
of everything by the landlord?  The peasant knows this, and therefore
seldom makes a complaint.

An Englishman (unfortunately I have forgotten his name) who travelled
in India for scientific purposes, proves that the peasants have now
to suffer more than formerly under their native princes.

In India, under the so-called “free English government,”
I found a sad proof that the position of the slaves in Brazil is better
than that of the free peasants here.  The slave there has not to
provide for any of his wants, and he is never burdened with too much
work, as the interest of his master would then suffer; for a slave costs
seven or eight hundred gulders (£70 or £80), and it is to
the interest of his owner that he should be well treated, that he may
be longer of service.  It cannot be denied that there are cases
in which the slaves are tyrannically treated, but this is extremely
rare.

Several German and English missionaries reside in the neighbourhood
of Benares, and go constantly to the town to preach.  At one of
these missionary establishments is a Christian village, which contains
more than twenty Hindoo families.  Nevertheless, Christianity makes
scarcely any advance. {173} 
I inquired of each of the missionaries how many Hindoos or Mahomedans
they had baptized in the course of their labours: generally they said,
“None;” very seldom, “One.”  The above
mentioned families result from the year 1831, when nearly the whole
of India was ravaged by cholera, nervous fever, or famine; the people
died, and many children remained orphans, wandering about without a
home.  The missionaries took these, and brought them up in the
Christian religion.  They were instructed in all kinds of trades,
were housed, married, and their whole maintenance provided for. 
The descendants of these families are continually educated by the missionaries,
and strictly watched: as to new converts, however, there are unfortunately
none.

I was present at several examinations: the boys and girls seemed
to have been taught well to read, write, reckon, and were well acquainted
with religion and geography.  The girls were clever embroiderers,
they did needle-work very well, and sewed all kinds of things; the boys
and men made tables, carpets, bound books, printed, etc.  The director
and professor of this excellent establishment is the missionary, Mr.
Luitpold; his wife has the superintendence of the girls.  The whole
is sensibly and intelligently arranged and conducted; Mr. and Mrs. Luitpold
attend to their protégés with true Christian love. 
But what are a few drops in an immeasurable sea?

CHAPTER XIII.  ALLAHABAD, AGRA, AND DELHI.

ALLAHABAD—CAUNIPOOR—AGRA—THE MAUSOLEUM OF SULTAN
AKBAR—TAJ-MEHAL—THE RUINED TOWN OF FATIPOOR—SIKRI—DELHI—THE
MAIN STREET—PUBLIC PROCESSIONS—THE EMPEROR’S PALACE—PALACES
AND MOSQUES—OLD DELHI—REMARKABLE RUINS—THE ENGLISH
MILITARY STATION.

From Benares, Mr. Law and myself travelled in a post-dock to Allahabad. 
The distance, which amounts to seventy-six miles, occupies about twelve
or thirteen hours.  We left the sacred town on the 7th of January,
1848, at 6 o’clock in the evening, and early in the morning found
ourselves already near Allahabad, at a long bridge of boats which here
crosses the Ganges.

We left the post-dock, and were carried in palanquins to the hotel,
about a mile further on.  When we arrived there, we found it so
occupied by some officers of a regiment on the march, that my travelling
companion was received only upon condition that he would content himself
with a place in the public-room.  In these circumstances, nothing
remained for me but to make use of my letter of introduction to Dr.
Angus.

My arrival placed the good old gentleman in no little embarrassment:
his house was also already filled with travellers.  His sister,
Mrs. Spencer, however, with great kindness, at once offered me half
of her own sleeping apartment.

Allahabad has 25,000 inhabitants.  It lies partly upon the Jumna
(Deschumna), partly on the Ganges.  It is not one of the largest
and handsomest, although it is one of the sacred towns, and is visited
by many pilgrims.  The Europeans reside in handsome garden-houses
outside the town.

Among the objects of interest, the fortress with the palace is the
most remarkable.  It was built during the reign of the Sultan Akbar. 
It is situated at the junction of the Jumna with the Ganges.

The fortress has been much strengthened with new works by the English. 
It serves now as the principal depot of arms in British India.

The palace is a rather ordinary building; only a few of the saloons
are remarkable for their interior division.  There are some which
are intersected by three rows of columns, forming three adjoining arcades. 
In others, a few steps lead into small apartments which are situated
in the saloon itself, and resemble large private boxes in theatres.

The palace is now employed as an armoury.  It contains complete
arms for 40,000 men, and there is also a quantity of heavy ordnance.

In one of the courts stands a metal column thirty-six feet high,
called Feroze-Schachs-Laht, which is very well preserved, is covered
with inscriptions, and is surmounted by a lion.

A second curiosity in the fort is a small unimportant temple, now
much dilapidated, which is considered as very sacred by the Hindoos. 
To their great sorrow they are not allowed to visit it, as the fort
is not open to them.  One of the officers told me that, a short
time since, a very rich Hindoo made a pilgrimage here, and offered the
commandant of the fortress 20,000 rupees (£2,000) to allow him
to make his devotions in this temple.  The commandant could not
permit it.

This fortress also has its tradition:—“When the Sultan
Akbar commenced building it, every wall immediately fell in.  An
oracle said that he would not succeed in its erection before a man voluntarily
offered himself as a sacrifice.  Such an one presented himself,
and made only one condition, that the fortress and town should bear
his name.  The man was called Brog, and the town is, even at this
time, more frequently called Brog by the Hindoos than Allahabad.”

In memory of the heroic man, a temple was erected near the fortress,
under ground, where he is interred.  Many pilgrims come here annually. 
The temple is quite dark; lights or torches must be used on entering
it.  It resembles, on the whole, a large handsome cellar, the roof
of which rests upon a number of plain columns.  The walls are full
of niches, which are occupied by idols and figures of deities. 
A leafless tree is shown as a great curiosity, which grew in the temple
and made its way through the stone roof.

I also visited a fine large garden, in which stood four Mahomedan
mausoleums.  The largest contains a sarcophagus of white marble,
which is surrounded by wooden galleries extremely richly and handsomely
decorated with mother-of-pearl.  Here rests the Sultan Koshru,
son of Jehanpuira.  Two smaller sarcophagi contain children of
the sultan.  The walls are painted with stiff flowers and miserable
trees, between which are some inscriptions.

One part of the wall is covered with a small curtain.  The guide
pushed it with great devotion on one side, and showed me the impression
of a colossal open hand.  He told me that a great-great-uncle of
Mohamet once came here to pray.  He was powerful, large, and clumsy;
when raising himself up, he stumbled against the wall and left the impression
of his sacred hand.

These four monuments are said to be upwards of 250 years old. 
They are constructed of large blocks of stone, and richly decorated
with arabesques, friezes, reliefs, etc.  The sepulchre of Koshru
and the impression of the hand are much venerated by the Mahomedans.

The garden afforded me more pleasure than the monuments—especially
on account of the enormous tamarind-trees.  I thought that I had
seen the largest in Brazil, but the ground, or perhaps the climate,
here appears more favourable to this species of trees.  Not only
is the garden full of such magnificent specimens, but there are beautiful
avenues of them round the town.  The tamarinds of Allahabad are
even mentioned in geographical works.

On one side of the lofty wall which surrounds the garden, two caravansaries
are built, which are remarkable for their beautiful high portals, their
size, and convenient arrangement.  They presented an uncommonly
lively appearance, containing people in all costumes, horses, oxen,
camels, and elephants, and a large quantity of wares in chests, bales,
and sacks.

10th January.  About 3 in the afternoon, we left Allahabad and
continued our journey in a post-dock as far as Agra, with some short
stoppages.  The distance is nearly 300 miles.

In twenty-two hours we reached Caunipoor (150 miles), on the Ganges,
a town which is remarkable for its English settlement.

The journey so far offered little change, an uninterrupted richly-cultivated
plain and an unfrequented road.  With the exception of a few companies
of military, we did not meet a single traveller.

A party of military on the march in India resembles a small emigration
company; and, after seeing one, it is easy to form an idea of the enormous
trains of the Persian and other Asiatic armies.  The greater part
of the native soldiers are married, as well as the officers (Europeans);
therefore, when the regiment marches, there are nearly as many women
and children as soldiers.  The women and children ride, two or
three together, upon horses or oxen, or sit upon cars, or go on foot
with bundles on their backs.  They have all their effects packed
upon cars, and drive their goats and cows before them.  The officers
follow, with their families, in European carriages, palanquins, or on
horseback.  Their tents, house furniture, etc., are packed upon
camels and elephants, which generally bring up the rear.  The camp
is pitched on both sides of the road—on one side are the people,
and on the other the animals.

Caunipoor is a strong military station, with four handsome barracks;
there is also an important missionary society.  The town possesses
some handsome schools and private buildings, and a Christian church,
in pure Gothic style.

12th January.  Towards noon, we reached the small village of
Beura.  Here we found a bungalow; that is, a small house with two
or four rooms barely furnished with the most necessary and plainest
furniture.  These bungalows stand upon the post-roads, and supply
the place of hotels.  They are built by government.  One person
pays one rupee (2s.) a day for a small room; a family, two rupees. 
The payment is the same in most bungalows, if the travellers remain
twenty-four hours or only half an hour; it is only in a few that it
is considered enough to pay half-price for staying a short time. 
At each bungalow, a native is placed as superintendent, who waits on
the travellers, cooks for them, etc.  The control is carried out
by means of a book, in which each traveller writes his name.  If
there are no travellers, a person may remain as long as he chooses;
when the contrary happens, he cannot stay more than twenty-four hours.

The villages which lie on the road are small, and appear very miserable
and poor.  They are surrounded by high mud walls, which give them
the appearance of a fortification.

After we had travelled three nights and two days and a half, we reached
Agra on the 13th of January—the former residence of the Great
Mogul of India.

The suburbs of Agra resemble, in poverty, the miserable villages
before mentioned.  They are composed of high walls of earth, within
which are small dilapidated huts and barracks.  A change was at
once apparent when we had passed through a stately gateway.  We
then suddenly found ourselves in a large open square, surrounded by
walls, from which four lofty gates led to the town, the fortress, and
the suburbs.  Agra, like most Indian towns, has no inn.  A
German missionary received me kindly; and, in addition to his hospitality,
was obliging enough to show me personally whatever there was of interest
in the town and neighbourhood.

Our first visit was to the beautiful mausoleum of the Sultan Akbar,
at Secundra, four miles from Agra.

The porch which leads into the garden is a masterpiece.  I stood
before it for a long time amazed.  The enormous building is raised
upon a stone terrace, which is approached by broad steps; the gate is
lofty, and is surmounted by an imposing dome.  At the four corners
are minarets of white marble three stories high; unfortunately, their
upper parts are already somewhat dilapidated.  On the front of
the gate are the remains of a stone trellis-work.

The mausoleum stands in the centre of the garden; it is a square
building four stories in height, each becoming narrower at the top,
like a pyramid.  The first sight of this monument is not very attractive,
for the beauty of the gateway eclipses it; however, it improves on a
more detailed examination.

The bottom story is surrounded by fine arcades; the rooms are plain,
the walls covered with a brilliant white cement, intended as a substitute
for marble.  Several sarcophagi stand inside.

The second story consists of a large terrace, which covers the whole
extent of the lower one; in its centre is an open airy apartment with
a light arched roof, supported by columns.  Several small kiosks
at the corners and sides of the terrace give to the whole a somewhat
bizarre though tasty appearance.  The pretty domes of the kiosks
must formerly have been very rich and splendid, for on many there are
still to be seen beautiful remains of coloured glazed tiles and inlaid
marble-work.

The third story resembles the second.  The fourth and highest
is the most handsome.  It is constructed entirely of white marble,
while the three lower ones are only of red sandstone.  Broad-roofed
arcades, whose exterior marble lattice-work is inimitably executed,
form an open square, over which the most beautiful roof—the blue
sky—spreads.  Here stands the sarcophagus which contains
the bones of the sultan.  On the arches of the arcades, texts from
the Koran are inlaid in characters of black marble.

I believe this is the only Mahomedan monument in which the sarcophagus
is placed at the top of the building in an uncovered space.

The palace of the Mongolian Sultan stands in the citadel.  It
is said to be one of the most remarkable buildings of Mongolian architecture.
{177}

The fortifications are nearly two miles in extent, and consist of
double and treble walls, the outer one of which is said to be seventy-five
feet high.

The interior is divided into three principal courts.  In the
first live the guards; in the second, the officers and higher authorities;
in the third, which occupies the side towards the Jumna, stands the
palace, the baths, the harem, and several gardens.  In this court,
everything is made of marble.  The walls of the rooms in the palaces
are covered with such stones as agates, onyxes, jasper, cornelian, lapis-lazuli,
etc., inlaid in mosaic work, representing flowers, birds, arabesques,
and other figures.  Two rooms without windows are exclusively destined
to show the effects of illumination.  The walls and the arched
roof are covered with mica slate in small silvered frames; fountains
splash over glass walls, behind which lights can be arranged, and jets
of water are thrown up in the centre of the room.  Even without
lights, it glittered and sparkled most marvellously; what must be the
effect when innumerable lamps throw back their rays a thousandfold! 
Such a sight enables one easily to understand the imaginative descriptions
of the Eastern tales of “a thousand-and-one nights.” 
Such palaces and rooms may be truly considered works of magic.

Near the palace stands a small mosque, which is also entirely constructed
of white marble, richly and artistically furnished with arabesques,
reliefs, etc.

Before leaving the fortress, I was led to a deep underground vault—the
former scene of numerous secret executions.  How much innocent
blood may have been shed there!

The Jumna Mosque, which the erudite affirm to surpass that of Soliman’s
in Constantinople, stands outside the fortress, upon a high terrace
near the river.  It is of red sandstone, has the same wonderful
domes, and was built by the Sultan Akbar.  In the arches are to
be seen remains of rich paintings in light and dark-blue, intermixed
with gilding.  It is to be regretted that this mosque is in a rather
dilapidated condition; but it is hoped, however, that it will soon be
completely restored, as the English government have already commenced
repairing it.

From the mosque we returned again to the town, which is, for the
most part, surrounded by rubbish.  The principal street, “Sander,”
is broad and cleanly paved in the middle with square stones, and at
the sides with bricks.  At both extremities of this street stand
majestic gateways.  The houses of the town (from one to four stories
high) are almost entirely of red sandstone; most of them are small,
but many are surrounded by columns, pillars, and galleries.  Several
are distinguished by their handsome porches.  The streets are narrow,
crooked, and ugly; the bazaars unimportant.  In India, as well
as in the East, the more costly wares must be sought in the interior
of the houses.  The population of this town is said to have amounted
formerly to 800,000; it is now scarcely 60,000.

The whole environs are full of ruins.  Those who build can procure
the materials at the mere cost of gathering them from the ground. 
Many Europeans inhabit half-ruinous buildings, which, at a small expense,
they convert into pretty palaces.

Agra is the principal seat of two missionary societies—a Catholic
and a Protestant.  Here, as in Benares, they educate the offspring
of the children they picked up in 1831.  A little girl was pointed
out to me that had recently been bought of a poor woman for two rupees
(4s.)

At the head of the Catholic mission is a bishop.  The present
one, Mr. Porgi, is the founder of a tastefully-built church.  In
no similar establishment did I ever see so much order, or find the natives
so well-behaved as here.  On Sundays, after prayers, they amuse
themselves with decorous and lively games; while in the Protestant establishments,
after having worked all the week, they are compelled to pray all day
long, and their greatest amusement consists in being allowed to sit
for a few hours gravely before the house-doors.  A person who passed
a Sunday in this country among strict Protestants would imagine that
God had forbidden the most innocent amusements.

These two religious societies, unfortunately, are not on very amicable
terms, and censure and persecute every slight irregularity on the part
of each other; by this means not setting the natives living round them
a very good example.

My last visit was to the magnificent treasure of Agra, and, indeed,
of all India—the famous Taj-Mehal.

I had read somewhere that this monument ought to be visited last,
as the others would not be admired at all after seeing this.  Captain
Elliot says: “It is difficult to give a description of this monument;
the architecture is full of strength and elegance.”

The Taj-Mehal was erected by the Sultan Jehoe (Dschehoe), in memory
of his favourite muntaza, Zemani.  Its building is said to have
cost £750,000.  Properly speaking, the sultan’s memory
is more perpetuated by this building than that of his favourite, for
every one who saw it would involuntarily ask who erected it.  The
names of the architect and builder are unfortunately lost.  Many
ascribe it to Italian masters; but when it is seen that there are so
many other admirable works of Mahomedan architecture, either the whole
must be considered foreign or this must be admitted to be native.

The monument stands in the centre of a garden, upon an open terrace
of red sandstone, raised twelve feet above the ground.  It represents
a mosque of an octagon form, with lofty arched entrances, which, together
with the four minarets that stand at the corners of the terrace, is
entirely built of white marble.  The principal dome rises to a
height of 260 feet, and is surrounded by four smaller ones.  Round
the outside of the mosque extracts from the Koran are inlaid in characters
of black marble.

In the principal apartment stand two sarcophagi, of which one contains
the remains of the sultan, the other those of his favourite.  The
lower part of the walls of this apartment, as well as both sarcophagi,
are covered with costly mosaic work of the most beautiful stones. 
A marble lattice-work, six feet high, surrounding the two sarcophagi,
is a masterpiece of art.  It is so delicate and finely worked,
that it seems as if turned out of ivory.  The graceful columns
and the narrow cornices are also covered, above and below, with jasper,
agate, etc.  Among these, I was shown the so-called “goldstone,”
which has a perfect gold colour, and is said to be very costly, even
more so than lapis-lazuli.

Two gateways and two mosques stand at a small distance from the Taj-Mehal. 
They are built of red sandstone and white marble.  If they stood
apart, each would be considered a master-work; as it is, however, they
lose in attraction by their proximity to the Taj-Mehal, of which a traveller
says, with full justice: “It is too pure, too sacred, too perfect,
to have been constructed by men’s hands—angels must have
brought it from heaven; and one imagines there ought to be a glass shade
over it, to protect it from every breath and every wind.”

Although this mausoleum is more than 250 years old, it is as perfect
as if it was only just finished.

Many travellers affirm that the Taj-Mehal produces a magical effect
when lighted by the moon.  I saw it during a full moonshine, but
was so little pleased, that I much regretted, by this sight, having
somewhat weakened my former impression of it.  The moon’s
light gives a magical effect to old ruins or Gothic buildings, but not
to a monument which consists of white brilliant marble.  Moonlight
makes the latter appear in indistinct masses, and as if partly covered
with snow.  Whoever first promulgated this opinion respecting the
Taj-Mehal perhaps visited it in some charming company, so that he thought
everything round him was heavenly and supernatural; and others may have
found it more convenient, instead of putting it to the test themselves,
to repeat the statement of their predecessors.

One of the most interesting excursions of my whole journey was to
the ruins of the town of Fattipoor Sikri, eighteen miles from Agra,
and six miles in circumference.  We rode thither, and had ordered
changes of horses, so as to be able to make the journey in one day.

On our way, we passed at times over extended heaths, on one of which
we saw a small herd of antelopes.  The antelope is a kind of deer,
but smaller in size.  It is extremely delicate and prettily formed,
and is distinguished by narrow dark-brown stripes along the back. 
The herd crossed the road before us without much timidity, passing over
ditches and bushes, and leaping more than twenty feet at a time, with
such graceful movements that they seemed as if dancing through the air. 
I was not less delighted by the sight of two wild peacocks.  It
afforded me peculiar pleasure to see these animals in a state of freedom,
which we Europeans are accustomed to keep as rarities, like exotic plants.

The peacock is here somewhat larger than any I had seen in Europe;
the display of colours also, and the general brilliancy of the plumage,
struck me as being finer and brighter.

These birds are considered by the Indians almost as sacred as the
cow.  They appear to fully understand this kindness, for they are
seen, like house-birds, walking about in the villages or quietly resting
upon the roofs.  In some districts, the Indians are so prejudiced
in their favour, that no European can venture to shoot one of them without
exposing himself to the greatest insults.  Only four months since,
two English soldiers fell victims to this neglect of Hindostanee customs. 
They killed several peacocks; the enraged people fell upon them and
ill-used them in such a way that they shortly afterwards died.

Fattipoor Sikri stands upon a hill; the fortress walls, the mosque,
and other buildings can therefore be seen from a distance.  On
both sides of the road, a short distance outside the walls, lie remains
of houses or single apartments, fragments of handsome columns, etc. 
With great regret I saw the natives breaking many of them, and converting
them into building materials for their houses.

The entrance to the fortress and town was through three handsome
gates, and over masses of rubbish and fragments.  The view which
here presents itself is much more impressive than that at Pompeii, near
Naples.  There, indeed, everything is destroyed, but it is another
and more orderly kind of destruction—streets and squares appear
as clean as if they had only been abandoned yesterday.  Houses,
palaces, and temples are free from rubbish; even the track of the carriages
remain uneffaced.  Pompeii, moreover, stands on a plain, and it
cannot, therefore, be seen at one glance; its extent, too, is scarcely
half so great as that of Sikri; the houses are smaller, the palaces
not so numerous, and inferior in splendour and magnitude.  But
here a larger space is covered with magnificent buildings, mosques,
kiosks, columned halls, and arcades, with everything that was in the
power of art to create; and no single object has escaped the destructive
influence of time—all is falling into ruin.  It is scarcely
more than two hundred years since the town was in a flourishing state
of wealth and magnificence, and it is hardly possible to divest the
mind of the idea of a terrible earthquake having overwhelmed it. 
Unlike Pompeii, it was not covered by protecting ashes, but laid openly
exposed to the weather.  My sadness and astonishment increased
at every step—sadness at the terrible destruction, astonishment
at the still perceptible magnificence, the number of splendid buildings,
the beautiful sculptures, and the rich ornaments.  I saw some buildings
whose interior and exterior were so covered with sculptures, that not
the smallest space remained bare.  The principal mosque exceeds
in size and artistic construction even the Jumna Mosque in Agra. 
The entrance porch in the fore-court is said to be the loftiest in the
world.  The interior arch measures 72 feet, and the entire height
amounts to 140 feet.  The fore-court of the mosque is also one
of the largest existing; its length is 436 feet, its breadth 408; it
is surrounded by fine arabesques and small cells.  This court is
considered almost as sacred as the mosque itself, in consequence of
the Sultan Akbar, “the just,” having been accustomed to
pay his devotions there.  After his death, this spot was indicated
by a kind of altar, which is of white marble, and of wonderful workmanship.

The mosque itself is built in the style of the Jumna Mosque, and
has, like that, four enormous domes.  The interior is filled with
sarcophagi, in which lie the remains either of relations or favourite
ministers of the Sultan Akbar.  An adjoining court also contains
a great number of sepulchral monuments.

The Sultan Akbar passed several hours every day in the Hall of Justice,
and gave audience there to the meanest, as well as the most important
of his subjects.  A single column, standing in the centre of the
hall, was the divan of the emperor.  This column, the capital of
which is marvellously executed, becomes broader towards the top, and
is surrounded by a beautifully worked stone gallery, a foot high. 
Four broad stone passages or bridges lead into the adjoining apartments
of the palace.

The sultan’s palace is less remarkable for size than for its
sculptures, columns, ornaments, etc.  Every part is over-richly
furnished with them.

I found less to admire in the famous Elephant gate.  It is,
indeed, loftily arched, but not so high as the entrance gate in the
fore-court of the mosque; the two elephants, which were very beautifully
executed in stone, are so much dilapidated, that it is scarcely possible
to tell what they are intended to represent.

The so-called Elephant’s Tower is in a better state of preservation. 
In some descriptions of this, it is stated that it is constructed only
of elephants’ tusks, and even of the tusks of those elephants
only which were taken from enemies during Akbar’s time, or had
been captured by him in hunting.  This is, however, not the case;
the tower, which is sixty feet high, is built of stone, and the tusks
are fastened on from top to bottom, so that they project out from it. 
The Sultan Akbar is said to have frequently sat upon the top of this
tower, occupying himself by shooting birds.

All the buildings, even the enormous wall, are of red sandstone,
and not, as many affirm, of red marble.

Many hundreds of small green birds have formed their nests in the
holes and crevices of the buildings.

On the 19th of January I left the famous town of Agra, in the company
of Mr. Law, in order to visit the still more celebrated city of Delhi,
which is 122 miles from Agra.  There is an excellent post-road
all the way.

The country between Agra and Delhi continues tolerably unchanged;
there is no elevation to be seen.  Far and wide, cultivated land
alternates with heaths and sandy moors, and the miserable villages or
small towns which lie on the road, excite no desire to delay the journey
even for a moment.

A long and handsome chain bridge crosses the Jumna near the town
of Gassanger.

On the 20th of January, at 4 in the afternoon, we reached Delhi. 
Here I met with Dr. Sprenger, a very kind and amiable countryman. 
Dr. Sprenger, a Tyrolese, has won for himself, by his remarkable abilities
and knowledge, a considerable reputation, not only among the English,
but throughout the whole learned world.  He holds the position
of Director of the College in this place, and but a short time since
was requested by the English government to go to Lucknau, for the purpose
of examining the library of the Indian King of Lucknau, to make known
the valuable works, and put the whole in order.  He is a perfect
master of the Sanscrit, the ancient and modern Persian, the Turkish,
Arabic, and Hindostanee languages, and translates the most difficult
of them into English and German.  He has already made the most
valuable and interesting contributions to literature, and will still
continue to do so, as he is an extremely active man, and scarcely thirty-four
years of age.

Although he was on the eve of his departure for Lucknau, he was,
nevertheless, kind enough to become my Mentor.

We commenced with the great imperial town of Delhi; the town to which
formerly the eyes not only of all India, but almost of all Asia, were
directed.  It was in its time to India what Athens was to Greece,
and Rome to Europe.  It also shares their fate—of all its
greatness only the name remains.

The present Delhi is now called New Delhi, although it is already
two hundred years old; it is a continuation of the old towns, of which
there are said to have been seven, each of which were called Delhi. 
As often as the palaces, fortifications, mosques, etc., became dilapidated,
they were left to fall into ruins, and new ones were built near the
old ones.  In this way, ruins upon ruins accumulated, which are
said to have occupied a space more than six miles in breadth, and eighteen
in length.  If a great part of them were not already covered with
a thin layer of earth, these ruins would certainly be the most extensive
in the world.

New Delhi lies upon the Jumna; it contains, according to Brückner,
a population of 500,000, {183}
but I was informed that there was really only 100,000, among which are
100 Europeans.  The streets are broader and finer than any I had
yet seen in any Indian town.  The principal street, Tchandni-Tschank,
would do honour to an European city: it is nearly three-quarters of
a mile long, and about a hundred feet broad; a narrow canal, scant of
water and half filled with rubbish, runs through its entire length. 
The houses in this street are not remarkable either for magnitude or
splendour; they are at most one story high, and are furnished below
with miserable porches or arcades, under which worthless goods are exposed
for sale.  I saw nothing of the costly shops, the numerous precious
stones glittering in the evening with the lamps and lights, of which
many travellers speak.  The pretty houses and the rich shops must
be sought for in the bye streets near the bazaar.  The manufactures
which I saw, consisted of gold and silver work, gold tissues and shawls. 
The natives execute the gold and silver wares so tastefully and artistically,
that finer cannot be found even in Paris.  The tissues woven in
gold, the gold and silk embroideries and Cashmere shawls, are of the
highest degree of perfection.  The finest Cashmere shawls cost
here as much as 4,000 rupees (£400).  The dexterity of the
workmen appears still more surprising after seeing the simple machines
which they employ to produce their beautiful wares.

It is extremely interesting to walk about the principal streets of
Delhi in the evening.  There may be seen at once the modes of life
of both the rich and the poor Indians.  There is no town in which
there are so many princes and nobles as in this.  Besides the pensioned
emperor and his relations, whose number amounts to several thousand,
many other deposed and pensioned regents and ministers reside here. 
Their presence gives great animation to the town; they are fond of going
out in public, frequently make greater or less parties, and ride (always
on elephants) either in the neighbouring gardens, or in the evenings
through the streets.  In the day excursions, the elephants are
decorated in the most costly manner with rugs and fine stuffs, gold
lace, and fringe; the seats called the howdahs are even covered with
Cashmere shawls; richly fringed canopies keep off the heat of the sun,
or else servants hold enormous umbrellas for this purpose.  The
princes and nobles sit in these howdahs to the number of two or four,
and are very gorgeously attired in Oriental costumes.  These processions
present a most beautiful appearance, and are even larger and more splendid
than those of the Rajah of Benares, which I have described.  Each
procession consists frequently of as many as a dozen or more elephants,
and fifty or sixty soldiers on foot and mounted, and as many servants,
etc.  In the evenings, on the contrary, they are not so pompous—one
elephant, together with a few servants, suffices; they ride up and down
the streets, coquetting with females of a certain class, who sit richly
dressed and with unveiled faces at open windows or outside galleries. 
Others ride noble Arabian horses, whose stately appearance is still
more increased by gold-embroidered trappings and bridles inlaid with
silver.  Between these riding parties, heavily laden camels from
far distant regions walk deliberately along.  There are, moreover,
not a few bailis, drawn by beautiful white oxen, which the less wealthy
people or the above mentioned women use.  The bailis, as well as
the oxen, are draped with scarlet cloths: the animals have their horns
and the lower half of their feet painted brownish-red, and round their
neck is a handsome collar, on which bells are fastened.  The most
beautiful women peep modestly out of the half-open bailis.  If
it were not known to what class unveiled women belong in India, it would
be impossible to tell their position from their behaviour.  Unfortunately,
there are more of this class in India than in any other country: the
principal cause of this is an unnatural law, a revolting custom. 
The girls of every family are generally betrothed when they are only
a few months old; if, however, the bridegroom dies immediately, or at
any time after the betrothal, the girl is considered as a widow, and
as such cannot marry again.  They then generally become dancers. 
The condition of widowhood is looked upon as a great misfortune, as
it is believed that only those women are placed in this position, who
have deserved it in a previous state of existence.  An Indian can
only marry a girl belonging to his own caste.

To the various objects of interest in the streets already noticed,
must be added the jugglers, mountebanks, and serpent charmers, who wander
about everywhere, and are always surrounded by a crowd of curious people.

I saw several tricks performed by the jugglers which were truly astonishing. 
One poured out fire and smoke from his mouth; then mixed white, red,
yellow, and blue powders together, swallowed them, and then immediately
spit out each one separately and dry; some turned their eyes downwards,
and when they again raised them the pupils appeared as if of gold; they
then bowed the head forward, and on again raising it, the pupils of
their eyes had their natural colour, and their teeth were gold. 
Others made a small opening in their skin, and drew out of it yards
of thread, silk cord, and narrow ribbons.  The serpent charmers
held the animals by their tails, and allowed them to twine round their
arms, neck, and body; they took hold of large scorpions, and let them
run over their hands.  I also saw several battles between large
serpents and ichneumons.  These little animals, rather larger than
a weasel, live, as is known, upon serpents and the eggs of crocodiles. 
They seize the former so dexterously by the neck that they always master
them; the crocodile eggs they suck.

At the end of the principal street stands the imperial palace, which
is considered one of the finest buildings in Asia.  It occupies,
together with its adjoining buildings, an extent of more than two miles,
and is surrounded by a wall forty feet high.

At the principal entrance, a fine perspective view is obtained through
several successive gateways, which is terminated in the background by
a handsome hall.  This hall is but small, and is inlaid with white
marble and rare stones; the roof is arched over with mica, powdered
over with small stars.  Unfortunately, these will soon lose all
their glittering brilliancy, as the greater portion of the mica has
already fallen, and the remainder is likely to follow.  At the
back of the hall is a door of gilt metal, decorated with beautiful engraved
work.  In this hall the ex-monarch is accustomed to show himself
to the people, who, from traditionary respect or curiosity, visit the
palace.  He also receives European visitors here.

The handsomest parts of the imperial palace are the universally admired
and magnificent audience saloon and the mosque.  The former stands
in the centre of an open court; it is a long, square building; the roof
is supported by thirty columns, and is open on all sides; several steps
lead up to it, and a prettily decorated marble gallery, two feet high,
surrounds it.

The present Great Mogul has so little taste, that he has had this
divan divided into two parts by a very paltry partition wall. 
A similar wall adjoins both sides of the saloon, for what purpose I
could not learn.  In this divan is a great treasure: the largest
crystal in the world.  It is a block of about four feet in length,
two and a half broad, and one foot thick; {185}
it is very transparent.  It was used by the emperors as a throne
or seat in the divan.  Now it is hidden behind the blank wall;
and if I had not known of its existence from books, and been very curious
to see it, it would not have been shown to me at all.

The mosque is indeed small, but, like the judgment-hall, it is of
white marble, and with fine columns and sculptures.

Immediately adjoining the mosque is the garden “Schalinar,”
which is said to have been formerly one of the finest in India, but
has now quite fallen to decay.

Heaps of dust and rubbish were laying in the court-yards; the buildings
were almost like ruins; and miserable barracks stood against dilapidated
walls.  On account of the emperor’s residence, it soon became
necessary to build a new Delhi.

On my entrance to the palace, I had observed a group of men collected
together in the court-yard.  An hour afterwards, when we were returning
from our visit, they were still seated there.  We drew near to
discover what it was that so attracted their attention, and saw a few
dozen of tame birds seated upon perches quietly taking their food from
the hands of attendants, or else fighting for it.  The lookers-on
were, as I was told, nearly all princes.  Some were seated upon
chairs, others stood round, together with their followers.  In
their home dresses, the princes are hardly to be distinguished from
their servants, and in education and knowledge they are certainly not
much in advance of them.

The emperor amuses himself with a diversion which is not more commendable. 
His troops consist of boys about eight or fourteen.  They wear
a miserable uniform, which in make and colour resembles the English;
their exercises are conducted partly by old officers and partly by boys. 
I pitied the young soldiers from my heart, and wondered how it was possible
for them to handle their heavy muskets and banners.  The monarch
generally sits for some hours every day in the small reception hall,
and amuses himself by watching the manœuvres of his young warriors. 
This is the best time to get presented to his majesty.  He is eighty-five,
and at the time of my visit was so unwell, that I had not the good fortune
to see him.

The emperor receives from the English government a yearly pension
of fourteen lacs (1,400,000 rupees = £140,000).  The revenues
of his own possessions amount to half as much more; but with all this,
he is not so well off as the Rajah of Benares.  He has too large
a number of people to maintain: of the descendants of the imperial family
alone more than three hundred, as well as a hundred women, and two thousand
attendants.  If to these are added the numerous elephants, camels,
horses, etc., it may be easily understood why his exchequer is always
empty.

He receives his pension on the first of every month.  It has
to be brought to him under the protection of the English military, or
it would otherwise be seized by his creditors.

The emperor is said to be very discreet in raising his revenues by
various means.  For example, he confers honorary posts and appoints
officials, for which he requires considerable sums of money; and—can
it be believed!—he always finds fools enough to pay for such absurdities. 
Parents even buy appointments for their children.  The present
commander of the imperial troops is scarcely ten years old.  The
most remarkable fact, however, is that the vizier, who manages the emperor’s
income and expenditure, not only receives no salary, but pays the emperor
annually 10,000 rupees for this office.  What sums must be embezzled
to make up for this!

The emperor issues a newspaper in his own palace, which is in the
highest degree absurd and laughable.  It does not treat of politics
or the occurrences of the day, but exclusively of domestic incidents,
conversation and relative affairs.  It states, for example, “that
the sultan’s wife, A., owed the laundress, B., three rupees, and
that the laundress came yesterday to ask for her money; that the lady
had sent to her imperial husband to ask for the sum.  The emperor
referred her to the treasurer, who assured her, that as it was near
the end of the month, he could not command a penny.  The laundress
was therefore put off until the next month.”  Or, “The
Prince C. visited at such an hour the Prince D. or F.; he was received
in such a room; stayed so long; the conversation was on this or that
subject,” etc.

Among the other palaces of the town, that in which the college is
located is one of the handsomest.  It is built in the Italian style,
and is truly majestic; the columns are of uncommon height; the stairs,
saloons, and rooms are very spacious and lofty.  A fine garden
surrounds the back of the palace, a large court-yard the front, and
a high fortified wall encloses the whole.  Dr. Sprenger, as director
of the college, occupies a truly princely dwelling in it.

The palace of the Princess Begum, half in the Italian and half in
the Mongolian style, is tolerably large, and is remarkable for its extremely
handsome saloons.  A pretty and hitherto well kept garden surrounds
it on all sides.

The Princess Begum attracted great attention at the time before Delhi
was under the English dominion, by her intelligence, enterprise, and
bravery.  She was a Hindoo by birth, and became acquainted in her
youth with a German named Sombre, with whom she fell in love, and turned
Christian in order to marry him.  Mr. Sombre formed a regiment
of native troops, which, after they were well trained, he offered to
the emperor.  In the course of time, he so ingratiated himself
with the emperor, that the latter presented him with a large property,
and made him a prince.  His wife is said to have supported him
energetically in everything.  After his death, she was appointed
commander of the regiment, which post she held most honourably for several
years.  She died a short time since at the age of eighty.

Of the numerous mosques of New Delhi, I visited only two, the Mosque
Roshun-ad-dawla, and the Jumna Mosque.  The former stands in the
principal street, and its pinnacles and domes are splendidly gilt. 
It is made famous through its connection with an act of cruelty on the
part of Sheikh Nadir.  This remarkable, but fearfully cruel monarch,
on conquering Delhi in the year 1739, had 100,000 of the inhabitants
cut to pieces, and is said to have sat upon a tower of this mosque to
watch the scene.  The town was then set fire to and plundered.

The Jumna Mosque, built by the Sheikh Djihan, is also considered
a masterpiece of Mahomedan architecture; it stands upon an enormous
platform, to which forty steps lead up, and rises in a truly majestic
manner above the surrounding mass of houses.  Its symmetry is astonishing. 
The three domes, and the small cupolas on the minarets, are of white
marble; all the other parts, even the large slates with which the fine
court-yard is paved, are of red sandstone.  The inlaid ornamental
work and stripes on the mosque, are also of white marble.

There are great numbers of caravansaries, frequently with very handsome
portals.  The baths are unimportant.

We devoted two days to making an excursion to the more distant monuments
of Delhi.  We first stopped at the still well-preserved “Purana
Kale.”  All the handsome mosques resemble each other much. 
This one, however, is distinguished by its decoration, the richness
and correctness of its sculptures, its beautiful inlaid work, and its
size.  Three lightly arched and lofty cupolas cover the principal
building, small towers adorn the corners, and two high minarets stand
at the sides.  The entrance and the interior of the domes are inlaid
with glazed tiles and painted, the colours are remarkably brilliant. 
The interior of every mosque is empty; a small tribune for speakers,
and a few glass lustres and lamps, constitute the whole decoration.

The mausoleum of the Emperor Humaione, very much in the same style
as the mosque, was commenced by this monarch himself.  But as he
died before it was completed, his son Akbar carried out his intentions. 
The high-arched temple, in the centre of which stands the sarcophagus,
is inlaid with mosaic work of rare stones.  Instead of window-panes,
the openings are furnished with artistically worked stone lattices. 
In adjoining halls, under plain sarcophagi, rest the remains of several
wives and children of the Emperor Humaione.

Not far from this is the monument of Nizam-ul-din, a very sacred
and greatly venerated Mahomedan.  It stands in a small court, the
floor of which is paved with marble.  A square screen of marble,
with four small doors, surrounds the sarcophagus.  This screen
is still more delicate and finely worked than that in the Taj-Mehal;
it is scarcely conceivable how it was possible to execute such work
in stone.  The doors, pillars, and elegant arches are covered with
the most chaste reliefs, as fine and perfect as any that I have seen
in the most artistic towns of Italy.  The marble used for them
is of remarkable whiteness and purity, worthy, indeed, of these great
works of art.

Adjoining this are several pretty monuments, all of white marble. 
They are passed by with some indifference when the most perfect of them
all has been seen first.

A great deal has been said about a large water basin, which is surrounded
on three sides by cells, already much dilapidated; the fourth side is
open, and from it a beautiful stone staircase, forty feet broad, leads
to the water basin, which is twenty-five feet deep.  Every pilgrim
would consider his pilgrimage of no account if he did not step in here
immediately on his arrival.

Divers plunge from the terraces of the cells to the bottom of the
basin, and fetch out the smallest pieces of money which have been thrown
in.  Some are dexterous enough to catch the coin even before it
touches the bottom.  We threw in several coins, which they succeeded
in bringing up every time, but I can scarcely believe that they caught
them before they reached the bottom.  They remained long enough
under water each time, not only to pick the coin up, but also to look
for it.  The feat was certainly surprising, but not, as some travellers
affirm, so remarkable that similar ones might not be seen elsewhere.

Our last visit on this day was to the beautiful monument of the Vizier
Sofdar-Dchang, which is also a mosque.  In this monument I was
especially struck by the inlaid work of white marble in red sandstone
upon the four minarets, it was so diversified and so delicate; so chastely
executed that the most expert draughtsman could not have produced it
more correctly and delicately upon paper.  The same may be said
of the sarcophagi in the principal temple, which is hewn out of a block
of fine white marble.

The monument is surrounded by a tolerably well-kept garden, laid
out in the European style.

At the end of the garden, opposite the mausoleum, stands a small
palace, principally belonging to the King of Lucknau.  It is at
present kept in good condition by the few European inhabitants of New
Delhi.  It contains a few articles of furniture, and serves for
the accommodation of visitors to these ruins.

We remained here over night, and, thanks to the good-hearted and
amiable Mrs. Sprenger, found every possible convenience we could desire. 
The first and most agreeable thing after our long wandering, was a well-furnished
table.  Such attentions are doubly deserving of thanks, when it
is remembered at what a great amount of trouble they are procured. 
It is necessary on such excursions to take not only provisions and a
cook, but also cooking utensils, table-services, bed-linen, and servants,
enough in short for a small establishment.  The train of baggage,
which is always sent on before on these occasions, resembles a small
emigration party.

On the following morning we went on to Kotab-Minar, one of the oldest
and most beautiful buildings of the Patanas (from which people the Affghans
derive their origin).  The most wonderful part of this monument
is the so-called “Giant’s Column,” a polygon with
twenty-seven sides or half-round corners, and five stories or galleries,
whose diameter at the basement is fifty-four feet, and whose height
is twenty-six feet.  A winding staircase of 386 steps, leads to
the top.  This building is said to belong to the thirteenth century,
and to have been built by Kotab-ud-dun.  The column is of red sandstone,
and only the exterior is of white marble; decorations and wonderful
sculptures are wound in broad stripes around the column; these are so
finely and neatly chiselled as to resemble an elegant lace pattern. 
Any description of the delicacy and effect of this work would be far
exceeded by the reality.  The column is fortunately as well preserved
as if it had only been standing about a hundred years.  The upper
part leans a little forwards (whether artificially, as in the tower
at Bologna, is not decided); its top is flat, like a terrace, which
does not correspond with the remainder of the architecture.  It
is not known whether anything formerly stood upon it.  The column
was in its present condition when the English conquered Delhi.

We mounted as far as the highest point, and a most charming view
of the whole remains of Delhi, the Jumna, and the unbounded plain, opened
itself here before us.  The history of the people who once ruled
Hindostan may here be studied in the ruins of imperial towns, lying
one close beside the other.  It was a great and imposing prospect.

Many places where magnificent palaces and monuments formerly stood
are now cultivated fields.  Wherever the ground is broken up, fragments
of ruins show themselves.

Opposite the tower or column of Kotab-Minar stands a similar unfinished
building, the base of which is considerably larger in circumference
than that of the finished one.  It is supposed that these two towers
belonged to a magnificent mosque, {190}
of which some courts, gateways, columns, and walls still remain.

These few remains of the mosque are remarkable for the perfect sculptures
which covered the walls, gateways, etc., both outside and inside. 
The entrance-gateway has a considerable height.  The columns in
the courts are of Buddhist origin; the bell with long chain is sculptured
on them in relief.

In the fore-court of the mosque stands a metal column similar to
that at Allahabad, except that there is no lion upon its summit, and
its height is not more than thirty-six feet.  It is defaced by
several marks and slight injuries, which are ascribed to the Mongolians,
who, when they conquered Delhi, attempted in their destructive rage
to pull down these columns; but they stood too firmly, and all their
exertions were insufficient to destroy any of the inscriptions on them.

The remaining Patan or Affghan temples and monuments which lie dispersed
among the other ruins, resemble each other as much as they differ from
the Mahomedan and Hindoo buildings.  The monuments of this kind
generally consist of a small round temple, with a not very high cupola,
surrounded by open arcades supported on pillars.

Here also, in the neighbourhood of Kotab-Minar, a hospitable dwelling
is to be found.  A ruined building is fitted up, and three of the
rooms are furnished.

On the way homewards, we visited the observatory of the famous astronomer,
Dey Singh.  If that at Benares has been seen, this may well be
passed by.  Both were built by the same architect, and in the same
style; but that at Benares is well preserved, while the one here is
already much dilapidated.  Some travellers consider this memorial
as one of the most wonderful works of Indian art.

Near the observatory stands the old madrissa (school-house), a large
building, with numerous rooms for teachers and pupils, and with open
galleries and halls, in which the teachers sat surrounded by groups
of youths.  The building is rather neglected, but is partly inhabited
by private persons.

Adjoining the madrissa stands a pretty mosque and a very handsome
monument, both of white marble.  The latter was erected by Aurang
Zeb, in memory of his vizier Ghasy-al dyn Chan, the founder of the madrissa. 
It is as perfect in its execution as that of the saint Nizam-ul-din,
and appears to have been erected by the same artist.

The palace of Feroze Schah is near New Delhi.  It is indeed
somewhat in ruins, but there is much to be seen in the existing remains
of the building.  The fore-court of the mosque was a short time
since cleared with great labour of the rubbish and masses of stone which
covered it, by the untiring zeal of Mr. Cobb, the esteemed editor of
the English Delhi News.  It is in very good preservation. 
In this palace stands the third metal column—Feroze-Schachs-Laht. 
The inscriptions upon it show that it existed a hundred years before
the birth of Christ, and may therefore be considered as one of the oldest
monuments of India.  It was brought here from Lahore at the time
this palace was built.

The Purana-Killa, or the old fortress of the palace of Babar, is
much decayed.  From the height and style of the remaining fragments
of gateways and walls, an idea may be formed of the magnitude of the
palace.

The ruins of Loglukabad are in an advanced state of dilapidation,
and do not repay the trouble of a journey of seven miles.

The other numerous ruins are little more than mere repetitions of
those already described, with which, however, they cannot be compared
in size, elegance, and beauty.  They may be of great interest to
antiquarians and historians; but by myself, I candidly admit, they were
not much valued.

I must not neglect to mention the English military station, which
is situated upon some low hills near New Delhi.  The peculiar formation
of the ground renders a journey there extremely interesting: a district
of enormous blocks of red sandstone, between which beautiful flowers
were growing.  There are numerous ruins here, much the same as
in Delhi.

CHAPTER XIV.  JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY.

THE THUGS OR STRANGLERS—DEPARTURE—CATTLE-MARKET—BARATPOOR—BIANA—WELLS
AND PONDS—GOOD-NATURE OF THE INDIANS—POPPY PLANTATIONS—THE
SUTTIS—NOTARA—KOTTAH—DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE
ROYAL PALACE OF ARMORNEVAS—AMUSEMENTS AND DANCES—THE HOLY
VILLAGE OF KESHO-RAE-PATUM.

In order to reach Bombay, I had two routes before me; the one leads
past Simla to the foot of the Himalayas, the other to the famous rock
temples of Adjunta and Elora.  I would gladly have chosen the former,
and have penetrated as far as the principal chain of the Himalayas—Lahore
and the Indus; but my friends advised me not to make the attempt, for
the simple reason, that these mountains were covered with deep snow,
in which case I must have postponed my journey for at least three months. 
As I was unable to wait so long, I decided upon taking the latter road. 
In Calcutta, I had been recommended not to continue my journey beyond
Delhi at all.  They said the country was not under the control
of the English government, and the people were far less civilized. 
People endeavoured more especially to excite my apprehension by terrible
accounts of the Thugs or stranglers.

These Thugs form a singular sect, whose object is robbery and murder,
and who, like the Italian banditti, are prepared to undertake any atrocity
for which they are paid.  They must not, however, in any case shed
blood, and dare only make away with their victim by strangling. 
The act is not considered as very criminal, and the murderer absolves
himself by a small present, which he gives to his priest; but, if he
sheds only one drop of blood, he falls into the deepest disgrace, is
expelled from his caste, and abandoned even by his own associates.

Many travellers affirm that the Thugs are a religious sect, and that
they do not murder for the sake of plunder or of revenge, but in order,
according to their belief, to ensure a meritorious action.  I made
many inquiries about this, and learnt from every one that it was no
religious compulsion, but hatred, revenge, or desire of gain, which
led to these acts.  These stranglers are represented as possessing
a most extraordinary dexterity in their abominable trade, united with
the most untiring patience and perseverance; they frequently follow
the victims they have selected for months, and strangle them either
while sleeping, or by stealing behind them and throwing a twisted cloth
or a cord round their necks, which they draw tight with such rapidity
and force that death ensues instantaneously.

In Delhi, I gained more information.  I was assured that all
these dangers were exaggerated; that travellers were very rarely attacked
in India, and that the Thugs were much reduced in numbers.  Moreover,
they did not make any attempt upon Europeans, as the English government
instituted the strictest search for the culprits.  With regard,
therefore, to the danger, I was tolerably at ease, but I had still to
anticipate privation and fatigue.

The first part of the journey was to Kottah, distant 290 miles. 
I had the choice of three modes of conveyance—palanquins, camels,
or oxen bailis.  None of them are expeditious; there are no highroads,
and no organized accommodation for travelling; you must retain the same
men and animals to the end of the journey, and, at the utmost, cannot
go more than from twenty to twenty-two miles in one day.  For a
palanquin, it is necessary to engage eight bearers, besides several
for the luggage.  Although each does not receive more than eight
rupees a-month, out of which he pays his own expenses; still the expense
is heavy, because so many are required, and their return journey must
be paid for.  Travelling on camels is also expensive, and is the
most inconvenient.  I decided, therefore, on adopting the less
costly mode of conveyance by oxen.  As I travelled alone, Dr. Sprenger
very kindly made all the necessary preparations; he drew up a written
contract with the tschandrie (waggoner) in Hindostanee to the effect
that I was to pay him the half of the fare, fifteen rupees (£1
10s.), immediately, and the other half when we arrived at Kottah, to
which place he was to bring me in fourteen days; for every day over
that time I had the right to deduct three rupees (6s.)  Dr. Sprenger
also sent one of his most trusty cheprasses {193}
to accompany me, and his good wife furnished me with an excellent warm
wrapper, and every kind of provision, so that my waggon would hardly
hold all that I had.

With a sorrowful heart I parted from my good country people. 
God grant that I may see them yet again during my life!

On the morning of 30th of January, 1848, I left Delhi.  The
first day, we made very little progress, only eighteen miles, which
brought us to Faridabad; the heavy awkward animals required to be first
used to the draught.  The first twelve miles of the journey afforded
me some gratification, as along both sides of the road lay innumerable
ruins, which I had visited with my friends only a few days previously.

This, as well as the following nights, were passed in caravansaries. 
I had no tent—no palanquins, and on this road there were no bungalows. 
Unfortunately, the caravansaries in the smaller villages are not to
be compared with those in the larger towns; the cells are rudely constructed
of clay, their length is scarcely seven feet, and the small opening,
only four feet high, is without a door; but, to my astonishment, I found
them always very cleanly swept, and I was also furnished with a low
wooden stool, covered with network, upon which I threw my wrapper, and
which served me for an excellent couch.  The cheprasse laid himself,
like Napoleon’s Mameluke, before the entrance of my cell; but
he slept much more soundly, for, even on the first night, he did not
hear the least of a very sharp encounter which I had with an enormous
dog that had been attracted by my well-filled provision basket.

31st January.  Towards noon, we passed through the little town
of Balamgalam, in which there is a small English military station, a
mosque, and a very recently-erected Hindoo temple.  We passed the
night in the little town of Palwal.

In this neighbourhood, the peacocks are very tame.  Every morning,
I saw dozens of these beautiful birds on the trees; they come into the
fields, and even into the towns, to fetch food from the good-natured
natives.

1st February.  Our night’s station on this day was the
small town of Cossi.  We had already been overtaken during the
last mile by a number of natives, who were busily hurrying into the
town, in and outside of which a considerable cattle-market was being
held.  This market presented a picture of the greatest confusion;
the animals stood on all sides between a multitude of trusses of hay
and straw, the sellers crying and praising their wares without cessation,
and leading the buyers here and there, partly by persuasion and partly
by force, who also made no less noise than the former.

I was most struck by the innumerable cobblers, who set up their simple
working implements between the piled-up bundles of hay and straw, consisting
of small tables with thread, wire, and leather, and who were busily
engaged at their trade, repairing the coverings for the feet. 
I remarked at this time, as well as on several other occasions, that
the natives are by no means so indolent as they are generally represented
to be, but, on the contrary, that they avail themselves of every favourable
opportunity of earning money.  All the caravansaries at the entrance
of the town were crowded, and there was no other alternative except
to pass through the whole town to the other side.  The town-gate
had a very promising appearance, rising proudly and boldly into the
air; I hoped to see corresponding buildings, and saw instead wretched
mud hovels and narrow lanes; so narrow, indeed, that the foot passengers
were obliged to step under the entrances of the huts to allow our baili
to pass them.

2nd February.  A few miles distant from Matara, we turned out
of the beaten road which leads from Delhi to Mutra, a town which still
remains under English government.  Matara is a pretty little town,
with a very neat mosque, broad streets, and walled houses, many of which,
indeed, are decorated with galleries, columns, or sculptures of red
sandstone.

The appearance of the country here is of monotonous uniformity—boundless
plains, on which orchards and meadows alternately present themselves,
the latter apparently quite scorched up in consequence of the dry season. 
The corn was already a foot high; but such large quantities of yellow
flowers were mixed with it, that there was great difficulty in telling
whether corn or weeds had been sown.  The cultivation of cotton
is of very great importance here.  The Indian plant does not, indeed,
attain the height and thickness of the Egyptian; however, it is considered
that the quality of the cotton does not depend upon the size of the
plants, and that the cotton of this country is the finest and the best.

I observed upon these plains little houses here and there, built
upon artificially-raised perpendicular mounds of clay, of from six to
eight feet high.  There are no steps leading to the tops of these
mounds, the only means of access being by ladders, which can be drawn
up at night.  From what I could draw from the explanations of my
servants, which, however, I only partially understood, they are used
by families, who live in retired places, for security against the tigers,
which are here very frequently seen.

3rd February.  Baratpoor.  We passed a place which was
overgrown, in broad patches, with misshapen stunted bushes—a rare
occurrence in this part of the country, where wood is scarce. 
My driver bestowed upon this tangled brushwood the high-sounding name
of jungle.  I should rather have compared them with the dwarfed
bushes and shrubs of Iceland.  The country beyond this woody district
had a very remarkable appearance; the ground was in many places torn
and fissured, as if in consequence of an earthquake.

In the caravansary at Baratpoor there were a great number of natives,
soldiers, and particularly some very rough-looking men, of whom I felt
inclined to be afraid: I was no longer in the English territories, and
alone among all these people.  However, they behaved themselves
with the greatest civility, and greeted me in the evening and morning
with a right hearty salaam.  I think that a similar set of men
in our own country would scarcely have shown me the same respect.

4th February.  On the other side of the town, I saw two fine
monuments before the door, round temples with lofty cupolas, and carved
stone lattice work in the window openings.  The fields and meadows
were richly strewed with Indian fig-trees, a thing which I have scarcely
met with anywhere else, except in Syria and Sicily; to the right of
the road was a low rocky peak, whose highest point was crowned by a
fortress.  The dwelling-houses of the commanders, instead of being
sheltered by the walls, rose high above them, and were tastily surrounded
by verandahs; on the terrace of the principal building was a handsome
pavilion, supported upon pillars.  The outer walls of the fortress
extended down into the valley below.  We had proceeded about fourteen
miles, when we came upon some monuments which had a very unique appearance. 
On a small spot, shaded by beautiful trees, was a round wall, formed
of a number of flagstones of seven feet high and four feet wide; in
the middle stood three monuments of a circular form, built of large
square stones.  The diameter of their tower part was about twelve
feet, their height about six.  They had no entrance.

I also saw a new species of bird today.  It was very similar
in size and form to the flamingo, with beautiful pinion feathers; its
plumage was tinged with a rich whitish grey shade, the head was covered
with deep red feathers.  We rested this night at the somewhat large
town of Hindon.  The only object which attracted my notice here
was a palace with such small windows, that they seemed more fitted for
dolls than for men.

6th February.  As I was about to leave the caravansary this
morning, three armed men placed themselves before my waggon, and in
spite of the exclamations of my people, prevented our starting. 
At last, I succeeded in understanding that the dispute was about a few
pence, for having kept watch before the door of my sleeping-room during
the night, which my people would not pay.  The caravansary did
not appear to the cheprasse very safe, and he had requested a guard
in the evening from the serdar (magistrate).  The people
might have slept quite soundly in some corner of the court-yard, and,
perhaps, have dreamt of watching, for although I had looked out several
times during the night, there was not one of them to be seen; however,
what can one expect for a few pence?  I satisfied them with a small
present, upon which they made a regular military movement, and allowed
us to proceed.

If I had been inclined to be timid, I must have been in continual
anxiety for several days from the appearance of the natives.

All of them were armed with sabres, bows and arrows, matchlocks,
formidable clubs bound with iron, and even shields of ironplate. 
These arms were also carried by the cattle tenders in the fields. 
But nothing disturbed my equanimity, although ignorant of the language,
and with only the old cheprasse with me; I always felt as though my
last hours were not yet come.  Nevertheless, I was glad that we
had passed by clear daylight the dangerous ravines and deep gorges through
which our road lay for several miles.  From these we entered a
large valley, at the entrance of which was an isolated mountain, surmounted
by a fortress; four miles further on, we came to a small group of trees,
in the middle of which was a stone terrace, five feet in height, upon
which was a life-size statue of a horse carved in stone.  By the
side of this a well was dug out; a kind of cistern, built of large blocks
of red sandstone, with steps leading up to the water.

Similar wells and cisterns, some of which are much larger, screened
by beautiful mango and tamarind trees, are frequently met with in India,
especially in districts where, as in the present one, good springs are
scarce.  The Hindoos and Mahomedans have the good belief that by
the erection of works for general benefit, they may more easily attain
future happiness.  When such water reservoirs and groups of trees
have been founded by Hindoos, several sculptured figures of their deities,
or red painted stones, are commonly found placed on them.  At many
of the wells, and cisterns also, a man is placed, whose business it
is to draw water for the weary travellers.

However agreeable the erection of these reservoirs may be in many
respects, there is one circumstance which detracts from their value;
the people always wash and bathe in the same ones from which they must
procure their drinking water.  But what objections will not thirst
silence?  I filled my jug as well as the others!

7th February.  Dungerkamaluma is a small village at the foot
of a low mountain.  A short distance from the station lay a true
Arabian sand desert, but which was fortunately not of very great extent. 
The sand plains of India are generally capable of being cultivated,
as it is only necessary to dig a few feet deep to reach water, with
which to irrigate the fields.  Even in this little desert were
a few fine-looking wheat fields.

This evening I thought that I should have been obliged to make use
of my pistols.  My waggoner always wanted every one to give him
the road; if they did not do so, he abused them.  Today we came
upon half a dozen of armed traveller-waggoners, who took no notice of
the calls of my driver, upon which he was enraged, and threatened to
strike them with his whip.  If it had come to blows, we should,
no doubt, in spite of my aid, have come off the worst; but they contented
themselves with mutual abuse and threats, and the fellows got out of
the way.

I have everywhere remarked that the Indians jangle and threaten a
great deal, but that they never go beyond that.  I have lived a
great deal among the people and observed them, and have often seen anger
and quarrelling, but never fighting.  Indeed, when their anger
lasts long, they sit down together.  The children never wrestle
or pull each other about, either in sport or earnest.  I only once
saw two boys engaged in earnest quarrel, when one of them so far forgot
himself as to give the other a box on the ear, but he did this as carefully
as if he received the blow himself.  The boy who was struck drew
his sleeve over his cheek, and the quarrel was ended.  Some other
children had looked on from the distance, but took no part in it.

This good nature may partly depend upon the fact that the people
eat so little flesh, and, according to their religion, are so extremely
kind to all animals; but I think still that there is some cowardice
at the bottom of it.  I was told that a Hindoo could scarcely be
persuaded to enter a dark room without a light; if a horse or ox makes
the slightest start, both great and small run frightened and shrieking
away.  On the other side, again, I heard from the English officers
that the sepoys were very brave soldiers.  Does this courage come
with the coat, or from the example of the English?

During the last day I saw a great many poppy plantations.  They
present a remarkable appearance; the leaves are fatty and shining, the
flowers large and variegated.  The extraction of the opium is performed
in a very simple, but exceedingly tedious manner.  The yet unripe
poppy heads are cut in several places in the evening.  A white
tenacious juice flows out of these incisions, which quickly thickens
by exposure to the air, and remains hanging in small tears.  These
tears are scraped off with a knife in the morning, and poured into vessels
which have the form of a small cake.  A second inferior quantity
is obtained by pressing and boiling the poppy heads and stems.

In many books, and, for instance, in Zimmerman’s “Pocket-Book
of Travels,” I read under this head that the poppy plants reached
a height of forty feet in India and Persia, and that the capsules were
as large as a child’s head, and held nearly a quart of seeds. 
This is not correct.  I saw the finest plantations in India, and
afterwards also in Persia, but found that the plants were never more
than three, and, at the most, four feet high, and the capsule about
as large round as a small hen’s egg.

8th February.  Madopoor, a wretched village at the foot of some
low mountains.  Today also we passed through terrible ravines and
chasms, which like those of yesterday, were not near the mountains,
but in the middle of the plains.  The sight of some palms was,
on the contrary, agreeable, the first I had seen since I left Benares;
however, they bore no fruit.  I was still more surprised to see,
in a place so destitute of trees and shrubs, tamarind, and banyan or
mango trees planted singly, which, cultivated with great care, flourish
with incomparable splendour and luxuriance.  Their value is doubled
when it is known that under each there is either a well or a cistern.

9th February.  Indergur, a small, unimportant town.  We
approached today very much nearer to the low mountains which we had
already seen yesterday.  We soon found ourselves in narrow valleys,
whose outlets appeared to be closed with high, rocky wells.  Upon
some of the higher mountain peaks stood little kiosks, dedicated to
the memory of the Suttis.  The Suttis are those women who are burnt
with the corpse of their husbands.  According to the statement
of the Hindoos, they are not compelled to do so, but their relations
insult and neglect them when they do not, and they are driven out of
society; consequently the poor women generally give their free consent. 
Upon the occasion, they are handsomely dressed and ornamented, and frequently
stupefied with opium almost to madness; are led with music and singing
to the place where the corpse of the husband, wrapped in white muslin,
lies upon the funeral pile.  At the moment that the victim throws
herself upon the corpse, the wood is lighted on all sides.  At
the same time, a deafening noise is commenced with musical instruments,
and every one begins to shout and sing, in order to smother the howling
of the poor woman.  After the burning, the bones are collected,
placed in an urn, and interred upon some eminence under a small monument. 
Only the wives (and of these only the principal or favourite ones) of
the wealthy or noble have the happiness to be burnt!  Since the
conquest of Hindostan by the English, these horrible scenes are not
permitted to take place.

The mountain scenery alternated with open plains, and towards evening
we came to still more beautiful mountains.  A small fortress, which
was situated upon the slope of a mountain, quite exposed, presented
a very interesting appearance; the mosques, barracks, little gardens,
etc., could be entirely overlooked.  At the foot of this fortress
lay our night-quarters.

10th February.  Notara.  We travelled a long distance through
narrow valleys, upon roads which were so stony that it was scarcely
possible to ride, and I thought every moment that the waggon must be
broken to pieces.  So long as the sun was not scorching on my head,
I walked by the side, but I was soon compelled to seek the shade of
the linen covering of the wagon.  I bound up my forehead tightly,
grasped both sides of the car, and submitted to my fate.  The jungle
which surrounded us resembled in beauty and luxuriance that near Baratpoor
but it afforded me more amusement, as it was inhabited by wild apes. 
They were tolerably large, with yellowish, brown hair, black faces,
and very long tails.

It was very pretty to see how anxious the mothers were about their
young.  When I startled them, she took one upon her back, the other
clung to her breast, and with this double weight she not only sprung
from branch to branch, but even from tree to tree.

If I had only possessed somewhat more imaginative power, I should
have taken the forest for a fairy wood, for besides the merry monkeys,
I saw many remarkable things.  The rock sides and debris to the
left of the road, for example, had the most singular and varied forms. 
Some resembled the ruins of temples and houses, others trees; indeed,
the figure of a woman with a child in her arms, was so natural, that
I could scarcely help feeling a regret at seeing it turned into this
dismal lifelessness.  Further on, lay a gate, whose noble artistic
construction so deceived me, that I long sought for the ruins of the
town to which it appeared to lead.

Not far distant from the jungle is the little town of Lakari, situated
upon the almost perpendicular declivity of a mountain ridge, and also
protected by fortifications.  A beautiful pond, a large well with
an artificial portico, terraces with Hindoo idols and Mahomedan funeral
monuments, lie in very attractive disorder.  Before Notara I found
several altars, with the sacred bull carved in red stone.  In the
town itself stood a handsome monument, an open temple with columns upon
a stone terrace, which was surrounded with fine reliefs, representing
elephants and riders.

There was no caravansary at this place, and I was obliged to go about
the streets with my cumbrous equipage in search of a lodging; but as
no one would receive a Christian, not from any want of good nature,
but in consequence of an erroneous religious opinion that a house which
has been visited by an unbeliever is defiled.  This opinion also
extends to many other matters.

There was no alternative left for me except to pass the night in
an open verandah.

In this town I saw a circumstance which proved the amiability of
the people.  A donkey, that was maimed either from its birth or
by an accident, was dragging itself with great exertion across the street,
a task which it required several minutes to accomplish.  Several
people who were coming that way with their loaded animals waited with
great patience, without making a single murmur or raising a hand to
drive the creature on.  Many of the inhabitants came out of their
houses and gave it fodder, and every passer-by turned out of the way
for it.  This feeling of sympathy touched me uncommonly.

11th February.  On this, the thirteenth day of my journey, I
reached Kottah.  I was very well satisfied with my servants and
driver, and indeed with the journey altogether!  The owners of
the caravansaries had not charged me more than a native; and had afforded
me all the conveniences which the strict rules of religion allowed. 
I had passed the nights in open chambers, even under the open sky, surrounded
by people of the poorest and lowest classes, and never received the
slightest ill-treatment either by word or deed.  I never had anything
stolen, and when ever I gave any little trifle to a child, {200}
such as a piece of bread, cheese, or the like, their parents always
endeavoured to show their gratitude by other acts of kindness. 
Oh, that the Europeans only knew how easily these simple children of
nature might be won by attention and kindness!  But, unfortunately,
they will continue to govern them by force, and treat them with neglect
and severity.

Kottah is the chief city of the kingdom of Rajpootan.  Here,
as in all those provinces which the English government has left under
the dominion of their native princes, there is an English official appointed,
who bears the title of the “Resident.”  These residents
might be properly called “kings,” or at least the king’s
governors, since the real kings cannot do anything without their consent. 
These miserable shadows of kings dare not, for example, cross the boundaries
of their own states without permission of the resident.  The more
important fortresses of the country have English garrisons, and here
and there small English military stations are established.

This control is in some respects beneficial to the people, in others
injurious.  The custom of burning widows is done away with, and
strictly forbidden; as well as the horrible punishment of being trodden
to death by elephants, or dragged along, tied to their tails. 
On the other hand, the taxation is increased, for the king is obliged
to pay a considerable tribute for the right of ruling according to the
will of the resident.  This naturally comes out of the pockets
of the people.  The King of Rajpootan pays annually 300,000 rupees
(£30,000) to the English government.

The resident at Kottah, Captain Burdon, was an intimate friend of
Dr. Sprenger’s, who had previously acquainted him with my speedy
arrival.  But, unfortunately, he was at that time inspecting the
different military stations; however, he had before his departure made
arrangements for my reception, and requested Dr. Rolland to see them
carried out.  He carried his attentions so far as to send on books,
newspapers, and servants, to the last station, which, however, I missed,
as my driver had turned off from the main road, during the last two
days, into a shorter one.  I reached the handsome bungalow of the
resident, and found the house quite vacant; Mrs. Burdon, together with
her children, had accompanied her husband, as is generally the case
in India, where frequent change of air is very necessary for Europeans. 
The house, the servants, and sepoys which were left, and the captain’s
palanquin and equipage, were placed entirely at my disposal; and in
order to complete my happiness, Dr. Rolland was so good as to accompany
me in all my excursions.

12th February.  This morning, the king, Ram-Singh, who had been
immediately informed of my arrival, sent me a quantity of fruits and
sweetmeats in large baskets, his own riding elephant, handsomely caparisoned,
an officer on horseback, and some soldiers.  I was very soon seated
with Dr. Rolland in the howdah, and trotted to the neighbouring town. 
Kottah contains about 30,000 inhabitants, and lies on the river Chumbal,
in a far stretching and, in some places, very rocky plain, 1,300 feet
above the level of the sea.  The town, which is conspicuously situated,
is surrounded by strong fortified works, upon which are placed fifty
pieces of cannon.  The immediate neighbourhood is rocky, naked,
and barren.  The interior of the town is separated into three parts
by as many gates.  The first part is inhabited by the poorer classes,
and appeared very wretched.  In the two other parts the tradespeople
and the gentry reside; they have an incomparably better aspect. 
The principal street, although uneven and stony, is sufficiently wide
to allow carriages, and ponderous beasts of burden, to pass without
hindrance.

The architecture of the houses is in the highest degree original. 
The smallness of the windows had already attracted my notice in Benares,
here they are so narrow and low that it is hardly possible to put the
head out; they are for the most part closed with finely worked stone
lattice, instead of glass.  Many of the houses have large alcoves;
in others there are spacious saloons on the first floor, which rest
on pillars and occupy the whole front of the house; many of these halls
were separated by partition walls into smaller open saloons.  At
both corners of the hall were decorated pavilions, and at the further
end, doors leading to the interior of the house.  These halls are
generally used as shops and places of business; also as the resort of
idlers, who sit upon mats and ottomans, smoking their hookas and watching
the bustle in the streets.  In other houses, again, the front walls
were painted in fresco, with terrible-looking dragons, tigers, lions,
twice or thrice as large as life, stretching their tongues out, with
hideous grimaces; or with deities, flowers, arabesques, etc., without
sense or taste grouped together, miserably executed, and bedaubed with
the most glaring colours.

The numerous handsome Hindoo temples, all built upon lofty stone
terraces, form an agreeable feature of the town.  They are higher,
more capacious, and finer buildings than those of Benares, with the
exception of the Bisvishas.  The temples here stand in open halls,
intersected by colonnades, ornamented with several quadrangular towers,
and surmounted by a cupola of from twenty to forty feet in height. 
The sanctuary is in the middle; it is a small, carefully enclosed building,
with a door leading into it.  This door, as well as the pillars
and friezes, is covered with beautiful sculptures; the square towers
are quite as carefully constructed as those at Benares.  Hideous
statues and fanciful figures stand under the halls, some of which are
painted in bright red colours.  On the side walls of the terraces
are arabesques, elephants, horses, etc., carved in relief.

The royal palace lies at the extremity of the third part of the town,
and forms a town within a town, or rather a fortress in a fortress,
as it is surrounded by immense fortified walls, which command the town
as well as the country round it; many large and small buildings are
enclosed within these walls, but do not present anything remarkable
beyond their handsome halls.  Had the resident been in Kottah I
should have been presented to the king, but as it was not etiquette
in his absence, I was compelled to put up with my disappointment.

From the town we proceeded to Armornevas, one of the neighbouring
palaces of the king’s.  The road to it was indescribably
bad, full of rocks and large stones.  I was astonished to see with
what dexterity our elephant set his plump feet between them, and travelled
on as quickly as if he was going over the levellest road.

When I expressed my surprise to Dr. Rolland that the king should
not have a good road made to his residence, which he so often visited,
he informed me that it was a maxim with all Indian monarchs not to make
roads, for, according to their opinion, in case of a war, they offered
too great facilities to the invasion of the enemy.

The castle is small and unimportant.  It lies on the river Chumbal,
which has here hollowed out for itself a remarkably deep bed in the
rock.  Picturesque ravines and groups of rock form its shores.

The garden of the castle is so thickly planted with orange, citron,
and other trees, that there is not room for even the smallest flowering
plant or shrub.

The few flowers which the Indian gardens contain, are placed at the
entrances.  The paths are raised two feet, as the ground is always
muddy and damp in consequence of the frequent watering.  Most of
the Indian gardens which I afterwards saw resembled these.

The king frequently amuses himself here with tiger-hunting. 
Somewhat higher up the river small towers are erected upon slight eminences;
the tigers are driven gradually towards the water, and always more and
more hemmed in, until they are within shot of the towers; the king and
his friends sit securely upon the tops of the towers, and fire bravely
upon the wild beasts.

Near the castle was a small wooden temple, which had just been built;
the principal part, however, the amiable idols, was awanting. 
It was owing to this fortunate circumstance that we were allowed to
enter the sanctuary, which consisted of a small marble kiosk standing
in the centre of the hall.  The temple and the columns were covered
with bad paintings in the most brilliant colours.  It is strange
that neither the Hindoos nor the Mahometans should have applied themselves
to painting, for there are neither good pictures nor drawings to be
seen among any of these people, although they have displayed such proficiency
in architecture, carving in relief, and in mosaic work.

We lastly visited a remarkably fine wood of tamarind and mango trees,
under the shadows of which the ashes of a number of kings are preserved
in handsome monuments.  These monuments consist of open temples,
with broad flights of ten or twelve steps leading up to them. 
At the bottom of the steps, on each side, stand stone figures of elephants. 
Some of the temples are ornamented with beautiful sculptures.

The evening was passed in all kinds of amusements.  The good
doctor would have made me acquainted with all the arts of the Hindoos;
however, the greater number of them were no longer new to me. 
A snake-charmer exhibited his little society, which performed very clever
tricks, and also allowed the most poisonous serpents to twine themselves
round his body, and the largest scorpions ran over his arms and legs. 
Afterwards, four elegant female dancers appeared dressed in muslin,
ornamented with gold and silver, and loaded with jewellery,—ears,
forehead, neck, breast, loins, hands, arms, feet, in short, every part
of the body was covered with gold, silver, and precious stones; even
the toes were ornamented with them, and from the nose, a large ring
with three stones hung over the mouth.  Two of the dancers first
commenced.  Their dance consisted of the same winding movements
which I had already seen in Benares, only they were far more animated,
and twisted their fingers, hands, and arms about in every conceivable
manner.  They might well be said to dance with their arms but not
with their feet.  They danced for ten minutes without singing,
then they began to scream, without however keeping time, and their motions
became more violent and wild, until in about half an hour both strength
and voice failed, they stopped quite exhausted, and made way for their
sisters, who repeated the same spectacle.  Dr. Rolland told me
that they represented a love story, in which every virtue and passion,
such as truth, self-devotion, hate, persecution, despair, etc., played
a part.  The musicians stood a little behind the dancers, and followed
all their movements.  The whole space which such a company requires,
is at the most ten feet in length and eight broad.  The good Hindoos
amuse themselves for hours together with these tasteless repetitions.

I remember having read in books that the Indian female dancers were
far more graceful than the European, that their songs were highly melodious,
and that their pantomime was tender, inspiring, and attractive. 
I should scarcely think the authors of such books could have been in
India!  Not less exaggerated are the descriptions of others, who
affirm that there are no dances more indelicate than those of the Indians. 
I might again ask these people if they had ever seen the Sammaquecca
and Refolosa in Valparaiso, the female dancers of Tahiti, or even our
own in flesh-coloured leggings?  The dresses of the females in
Rajpootan and some parts of Bundelkund are very different from those
of other parts of India.  They wear long, coloured, many-folded
skirts, tight bodies, which are so short that they scarcely cover the
breasts; and, over this, a blue mantle, in which they envelop the upper
part of the body, the head, and the face, and allow a part to hang down
in front like a veil.  Girls who do not always have the head covered,
nearly resemble our own peasant girls.  Like the dancers, they
are overloaded with jewellery; when they cannot afford gold and silver,
they content themselves with some other metals.  They wear also
rings of horn, bone, or glass beads, on the fingers, arms, and feet. 
On the feet they carry bells, so that they are heard at a distance of
sixty paces; the toes are covered with broad heavy rings, and they have
rings hanging from their noses down to the chin, which they are obliged
to tie up at meal time.  I pitied the poor creatures, who suffered
not a little from their finery!  The eyebrows and eyelids are dyed
black while the children are very young, and they frequently paint themselves
with dark-blue streaks of a finger’s breadth over the eyebrows,
and with spots on the forehead.  The adult women tattoo their breasts,
foreheads, noses, or temples with red, white, or yellow colours, according
as they are particularly attached to one or the other deity.  Many
wear amulets or miniatures hung round their necks, so that I at first
thought they were Catholics, and felt gratified at the brilliant successes
of the missionaries.  But, when I came nearer to one of the people,
that I might see these pictures better, what did I discover there? 
Perhaps a beautiful Madonna!—a fair-haired angel’s head!—an
enthusiastic Antonio of Padua!  Ah no!  I was met by the eight-armed
god Shiva grinning at me, the ox’s head of Vishnu, the long-tongued
goddess Kalli.  The amulets contained, most probably, some of the
ashes of one of their martyrs who had been burned, or a nail, a fragment
of skin, a hair of a saint, a splinter from the bone of a sacred animal,
etc.

13th February.  Dr. Rolland conducted me to the little town
of Kesho-Rae-Patum, one of the most sacred in Bunda and Rajpootan. 
It lies on the other side of the river, six miles from Kottah. 
A great number of pilgrims come here to bathe, as the water is considered
particularly sacred at this spot.  This belief cannot be condemned,
when it is remembered how many Christians there are who give the preference
to the Holy Maria at Maria-Zell, Einsiedeln, or Loretto, which, nevertheless,
all represent one and the same.

Handsome steps lead from the heights on the banks down to the river,
and Brahmins sit in pretty kiosks to take money from believers for the
honour of the gods.  On one of the flights of steps lay a very
large tortoise.  It might quietly sun itself there in safety—no
one thought of catching it.  It came out of the sacred river; indeed,
it might, perhaps, be the incarnation of the god Vishnu himself. {204} 
Along the river stood numbers of stone altars, with small bulls, and
other emblematical figures, also cut in stone.  The town itself
is small and miserable, but the temple is large and handsome.

The priests were here so tolerant as to admit us to all parts of
the temple.  It is open on all sides, and forms an octagon. 
Galleries run round the upper part, one-half of which are for women,
the other for the musicians.  The sanctuary stands at the back
of the temple; five bells hang before it, which are struck when women
enter the temple; they rung out also at my entrance.  The curtained
and closed doors were then opened, and afforded us a full view of the
interior.  We saw there a little group of idols carved in stone. 
The people who followed us with curiosity commenced a gentle muttering
upon the opening of the doors.  I turned round, somewhat startled,
thinking that it was directed against us and indicated anger, but it
was the prayers, which they repeated in a low voice and with a feeling
of devotion.  One of the Brahmins brushed off the flies from the
intelligent countenances of the gods.

Several chapels join the large temple, and were all opened to us. 
They contained red-painted stones or pictures.  In the front court
sits a stone figure of a saint under a covering, completely clothed,
and with even a cap on the head.  On the opposite bank of the river,
a small hill rises, upon which rests the figure of a large and rather
plump ox hewn in stone.  This hill is called the “holy mountain.”

Captain Burdon has built a very pretty house near the holy mountain,
where he sometimes lives with his family.  I saw there a fine collection
of stuffed birds, which he had brought himself from the Himalayas. 
I was particularly struck by the pheasants, some of which shone with
quite a metallic lustre; and there were some not less beautiful specimens
of heathcocks.

I had now seen all, and therefore asked the doctor to order me a
conveyance to Indor, 180 miles distant, for the next day.  He surprised
me with the offer, on the part of the king, to provide me with as many
camels as I required, and two sepoys on horseback as attendants. 
I asked for two; the one for myself, the other for the driver and the
servants which Dr. Rolland sent with me.

CHAPTER XV.  JOURNEY FROM DELHI TO BOMBAY CONTINUED.

TRAVELLING ON INDIAN CAMELS—MY MEETING WITH THE BURDON FAMILY—THE
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF WOMEN AMONG THE NATIVE POPULATION IN INDIA—UDJEIN—CAPTAIN
HAMILTON—INTRODUCTION AT COURT—MANUFACTURE OF ICE—THE
ROCK TEMPLES OF ADJUNTA—A TIGER HUNT—THE ROCK TEMPLES OF
ELORA—THE FORTRESS OF DOWLUTABAD.

14TH February.  The camels were ordered at 5 o’clock in
the morning, but it was not until towards noon that they came, each
with a driver.  When they saw my portmanteau (twenty-five pounds
in weight), they were quite puzzled to know what to do with it. 
It was useless my explaining to them how the luggage is carried in Egypt,
and that I had been accustomed to carry very little with me on my own
animal: they were used to a different plan, and would not depart from
it.

Travelling on camels is always unpleasant and troublesome. 
The jolting motion of the animal produces in many people the same ill
effects as the rocking of a ship on the sea; but in India it is almost
unbearable, on account of the inconvenience of the arrangements. 
Here each animal has a driver, who sits in front and takes the best
place; the traveller has only a little space left for him on the hinder
part of the animal.

Dr. Rolland advised me at once to put up with the inconvenience as
well as I could.  He told me that I should fall in with Captain
Burdon in the next day or two, and it would be easy to obtain a more
convenient conveyance from him.  I followed his advice, allowed
my luggage to be carried, and patiently mounted my camel.

We passed through extensive plains, which were most remarkable for
some considerable flax plantations, and came to a beautiful lake, near
to which lay a very pretty palace.  Towards evening, we reached
the little village of Moasa, where we stayed for the night.

In those countries which are governed by native princes, there are
neither roads nor arrangements for travelling; although in every village
and town there are people appointed whose business it is to direct travellers
on their way and carry their luggage, for which they are paid a small
fee.  Those travellers who have a guard from the king or aumil
(governor), or a cheprasse with them, do not pay anything for this attendance;
others give them a trifle for their services, according as the distance
is greater or less.

When I reached Moasa, every one hastened to offer me their services—for
I travelled with the king’s people, and in this part of the country
a European woman is a rarity.  They brought me wood, milk, and
eggs.  My table was always rather frugally furnished: at the best
I had rice boiled in milk or some eggs, but generally only rice, with
water and salt.  A leathern vessel for water, a little saucepan
for boiling in, a handful of salt, and some rice and bread, were all
that I took with me.

15th February.  Late in the evening I reached Nurankura, a small
place surrounded by low mountains.  I found here some tents belonging
to Captain Burdon, a maid, and a servant.  Terribly fatigued, I
entered one of the tents directly, in order to rest myself.  Scarcely
had I taken possession of the divan, than the maid came into the tent,
and, without any observation, commenced kneading me about with her hands. 
I would have stopped her, but she explained to me that when a person
was fatigued it was very refreshing.  For a quarter of an hour
she pressed my body from head to foot vigorously, and it certainly produced
a good effect—I found myself much relieved and strengthened. 
This custom of pressing and kneading is very common in India, as well
as in all Oriental countries, especially after the bath; and Europeans
also willingly allow themselves to be operated upon.

The maid informed me, partly by signs, partly by words, that I had
been expected since noon; that a palanquin stood ready for me, and that
I could sleep as well in it as in the tent.  I was rejoiced at
this, and again started on my journey at 11 o’clock at night. 
The country was indeed, as I knew, infested with tigers, but as several
torch-bearers accompanied us, and the tigers are sworn enemies of light,
I could composedly continue my uninterrupted sleep.  About 3 o’clock
in the morning, I was set down again in a tent, which was prepared for
my reception, and furnished with every convenience.

16th February.  This morning I made the acquaintance of the
amiable family of the Burdons.  They have seven children, whom
they educate chiefly themselves.  They live very pleasantly and
comfortably, although they are wholly thrown on their own resources
for amusement, as there are, with the exception of Dr. Rolland, no Europeans
in Kottah.  It is only very rarely that they are visited by officers
who may be passing through, and I was the first European female Mrs.
Burdon had seen for four years.

I passed the most delightful day in this family circle.  I was
not a little astonished to find here all the conveniences of a well-regulated
house; and I must take this opportunity of describing, in few words,
the mode of travelling adopted by the English officers and officials
in India.

In the first place, they have tents which are so large, that they
contain two or three rooms; one which I saw was worth more than 800
rupees (£80).  They take with them corresponding furniture,
from a footstool to the most elegant divan; in fact, nearly the whole
of the house and cooking utensils.  They have also a multitude
of servants, every one of whom has his particular occupation, which
he understands exceedingly well.  The travellers, after passing
the night in their beds, about 3 o’clock in the morning either
lie or sit in easy palanquins, or mount on horseback, and after four
or five hours’ ride, dismount, and partake of a hot breakfast
under tents.  They have every household accommodation, carry on
their ordinary occupations, take their meals at their usual hours, and
are, in fact, entirely at home.

The cook always proceeds on his journey at night.  As soon as
the tents are vacated, they are taken down and quickly removed, and
as quickly re-erected: there is no scarcity of hands or of beasts of
burden.  In the most cultivated countries of Europe, people do
not travel with so much luxury and ease as in India.

In the evening, I was obliged to take my departure again.  Captain
Burdon very kindly offered me the use of his palanquin and the necessary
bearers as far as Indos, but I pitied the people too much, and declared
that I did not find travelling on camels unpleasant; that in fact, on
account of the open view, that mode was to be preferred to palanquins. 
However, on account of my little portmanteau, I took a third camel. 
I left the sepoys behind here.  This evening we went eight miles
towards the little town Patan.

17th February.  It was not till this morning that I saw Patan
was situated on a romantic chain of hills, and possesses several remarkably
handsome temples, in the open halls belonging to which are placed sculptured
stone figures, the size of life.  The arabesques and figures on
the pillars were sharply executed in relief.  In the valleys which
we passed through, there was a large quantity of basaltic rock and most
beautifully crystallized quartz.  Towards evening, we reached Batschbachar,
a miserable little town.

18th February.  Rumtscha is somewhat larger and better. 
I was obliged to put up my bed in the middle of the bazaar under an
open verandah.  Upon this road there were no caravansaries. 
Half of the inhabitants of the town gathered round me, and watched all
my motions and doings with the greatest attention.  I afforded
them an opportunity of studying the appearance of an angry European
female, as I was very much displeased with my people, and, in spite
of my slight knowledge of the language, scolded them heartily. 
They allowed the camels to go so lazily, that although we had travelled
since early in the morning until late in the evening, we had not gone
more than twenty or twenty-two miles, not faster than an ox-waggon would
have gone.  I made them understand that this negligence must not
happen again.  I must now take occasion to contradict those persons
who affirm that the camel can travel on the average eighty miles daily,
and that even when they go slowly, their steps are very long. 
I examine every circumstance very accurately, and then form an opinion
from my own experience, without allowing myself to be misled by what
has been written about it.  Before commencing a journey, I observe
not only the principal distances, but also those between the individual
places, arrange a plan of my journey with the help of friends who are
acquainted with the subject, and by this means have the advantage over
my driver, who cannot persuade me that we have gone forty or sixty miles,
when we have not gone more than half this distance.  Moreover,
I was able, while travelling from Delhi to Kottah by the ox-waggon,
to observe several camel equipages, which I fell in with every evening
at the same night station.  It is true that I had most excellent
oxen, and that the camels were ordinary; but in this journey, with good
camels, I did not go more than thirty, or at the utmost, thirty-two
miles in the day, and travelled from 4 o’clock in the morning
until 6 in the evening, without any other stoppage than two hours at
noon.  A camel which is able to travel eighty miles in a day is
an exception to the general rule, and would scarcely perform such a
feat the second or third time.

19th February.  Ranera is an unimportant place.  I was
here offered a cow-stall to sleep in.  It was indeed kept very
clean; but I preferred sleeping in the open air.

Till a late hour of the night this town was very lively: processions
of men and a number of women and children followed the noise of the
tam-tam, which they accompanied with a wild, howling song, and proceeded
to some tree, under which an image of an idol was set up.

We had on this day to cross several ranges of low hills.  The
uncultivated ground was everywhere scorched up by the sun; {209}
nevertheless, the plantations of poppies, flax, corn, and cotton, etc.,
grew very luxuriantly.  Water-dykes were let into the fields on
every side, and peasants, with their yokes of oxen, were engaged in
bringing water from the wells and streams.  I did not see any women
at work.

In my numerous journeys, I had an opportunity of observing that the
lot of the poorer classes of women in India, in the East, and among
coloured people generally, was not so hard as it is believed to be. 
In the towns where Europeans reside, for example, their linen is washed
and prepared by men; it is very seldom that it is necessary for women
to take part in out-door labour; they carry wood, water, or any other
heavy burdens only in their own houses.  At harvest time, indeed,
the women are seen in the fields, but there also they only do the lighter
kind of work.  If carriages with horses or oxen are seen, the women
and children are always seated upon them, and the men walk by the side,
often laden with bundles.  When there are no beasts of burden with
the party, the men carry the children and baggage.  I also never
saw a man ill use his wife or child.  I heartily wish that the
women of the poorer classes in my own country were treated with only
half the consideration which I saw in all other parts of the world.

20th February.  Udjein on the Seepa, one of the oldest and best
built towns of India, is the capital of the kingdom of Sindhia, with
a population of more than 100,000 souls.

The architecture of this town is quite peculiar: the front walls
of the houses, only one story high, are constructed of wood, and furnished
with large regular window openings in the upper part, which are securely
closed by beams, instead of glass.  In the interior, the apartments
are built very lofty and airy: they have the full height from the level
of the ground to the roof, without the interruption of an intermediate
arch.  The outer walls and beams of the houses are painted with
a dark brown oil colour, which gave to the town an indescribably dusky
appearance.

Two houses were remarkable for their size and the uncommonly fine
execution of the wood carvings.  They contained two stories, and
were very tastefully ornamented with galleries, pillars, friezes, niches,
etc.  As far as I could learn from the answers I received to my
questions, and the numerous servants and soldiers walking about before
them, they were the palaces of the aumil and the Queen Widow of Madhadji-Sindhia.

We passed through the entire town; the streets were broad, the bazaars
very extensive, and so overcrowded with men, that we were frequently
compelled to stop; it happened to be a large market.  Upon such
occasions in India, as well as at great festivals and meetings of people,
I never once saw any one intoxicated, although there was no lack of
intoxicating drinks.  The men here are temperate, and restrain
themselves, yet without forming into societies.

Outside the town I found an open verandah, in which I took up my
quarters for the night.

I was here a witness of a deplorable scene, a consequence of an erroneous
religious belief of the otherwise amiable Hindoos.  Not far from
the verandah lay a fakir, outstretched upon the earth, without any signs
of life; many of the passers-by stopped, looked at him, and then went
on their way.  No one spoke to or helped him.  The poor man
had sunk exhausted on this spot, and was no longer capable of saying
to what caste he belonged.  I took heart, approached him, and raised
the head-cloth, which had fallen over a part of his face; two glassy
eyes stared at me.  I felt the body; it was stiff and cold. 
My help came too late.

The next morning the corpse still lay in the same place.  I
was informed that they waited to see if any relations would come to
carry it away, if not it would be removed by the pariahs.

21st February.  In the afternoon I reached Indor, the capital
of the kingdom of Holkar.

As I approached the dwelling of the Europeans, I found them just
about to ride out.  The equipage of the resident, Mr. Hamilton,
to whom I had letters, was distinguishable from the others by its greater
splendour.  Four beautiful horses were harnessed to an open landau,
and four servants, in Oriental liveries, ran by the side of the carriage. 
The gentlemen had scarcely perceived my approach, when they stopped,
and sent a servant towards me; they, perhaps, wished to know what chance
had thrown a solitary European female into this remote country. 
My servant, who already had the letter to Mr. Hamilton in his hand,
hastened to him directly, and gave it to him.  Mr. Hamilton read
it hastily through, alighted from his carriage immediately, came and
received me very cordially.  My shabby clothes, faded by the sun,
were of no account to him, and he did not treat me with less respect,
because I came without much baggage, and without a train of attendants.

He conducted me himself to the bungalow, set apart for strangers,
offered me several rooms, and remained until he saw that the servants
had properly provided all conveniences.  After he had given me
a servant for my own exclusive use, and had ordered a guard before the
bungalow, in which I was about to live alone, he took his departure,
and promised to send for me to dinner in an hour.

A few hundred paces distant from the bungalow is the palace of the
resident; it is a building of very great beauty, constructed of large,
square stones, in a pure Italian style of architecture.  Broad
flights of steps led up into halls which are peculiarly remarkable for
their magnitude and beautifully arched roofs, the latter being finer
than any that I had yet seen.  The saloons, rooms, and internal
arrangements corresponded to the high expectations which the sight of
the outside raised.

It was a Sunday, and I had the pleasure of finding the whole European
society of Indor assembled at the house of the resident.  It consisted
of three families.  My astonishment at the magnificence surrounding
me, at the luxuries at table, was yet more increased when a complete,
well-trained band of musicians commenced playing fine overtures and
some familiar German melodies.  After dinner Mr. Hamilton introduced
the chaplain to me, a Tyrolese, named Näher.  This active
man had established his chapel in the space of three years, the congregation
consisting chiefly of young natives.

I was invited to be present on the following morning at the first
operation performed here, by a European surgeon, on a patient under
the influence of ether.  A large tumour was to be extracted from
the neck of a native.  Unfortunately the inhalation did not turn
out as was expected: the patient came to again after the first incision,
and began shrieking fearfully.  I hastily left the room, for I
pitied the poor creature too much to bear his cries.  The operation
indeed was successful, but the man suffered considerable pain.

During breakfast, Mr. Hamilton proposed that I should exchange my
apartments in the bungalow for a similar one in his palace, because
the going backwards and forwards at each meal time was very fatiguing. 
He placed at my disposal the rooms of his wife, who was deceased, and
appointed me a female servant.

After tiffen (lunch) I was to see the town, and be presented at court. 
I employed the intermediate time in visiting Mr. and Mrs. Näher. 
The latter, who was also a German, was moved even to tears when she
saw me: for fifteen years she had not spoken with a fellow-countrywoman.

The town of Indor contains nearly 25,000 inhabitants; it is not fortified;
the houses are built in the same manner as those in Udjein.

The royal palace stands in the centre of the town, and forms a quadrangle. 
The middle of the front rises in the form of a pyramid, to the height
of six stories.  A remarkably lofty and very handsome gateway,
flanked on both sides by round and somewhat projecting towers, leads
into the court-yard.  The exterior of the palace is completely
covered with frescoes, for the most part representing elephants and
horses, and from a distance they present a good appearance.  The
interior is separated into several courts.  In the first court,
on the ground floor, is situated a saloon, surrounded by two rows of
wooden pillars.  The Durwar (ministerial council) is held here. 
In the first story of the same building a fine open saloon is appropriated
to the use of some sacred oxen.

Opposite this cattle-stall is the reception-room.  Dark stairs,
which require to be lighted in broad daylight, lead to the royal apartments. 
The stairs are said to be equally dark in almost all the Indian palaces;
they believe it is a security against enemies, or, at least, that it
makes their entrance more difficult.  In the reception saloon sat
the queen, Jeswont-Rao-Holcar, an aged, childless widow; at her side
her adopted son, Prince Hury-Rao-Holcar, a youth of fourteen years,
with very good-natured features and expressive eyes.  Seats, consisting
of cushions, were placed for us by their side.  The young prince
spoke broken English, and the questions which he put to me proved him
to be well acquainted with geography.  His mundsch, {212a}
a native, was represented as a man of intelligence and learning. 
I could not find an opportunity, after the audience, of complimenting
him upon the progress which the prince had made.  The dress of
the queen and of the prince consisted of white Dacca muslin; the prince
had several precious stones and pearls upon his turban, breast, and
arms.  The queen was not veiled, although Mr. Hamilton was present.

All the apartments and passages were crowded with servants, who,
without the slightest ceremony, came into the audience-hall, that they
might observe us more closely; we sat in a complete crowd.

We were offered sweetmeats and fruits, sprinkled with rosewater,
and some attar of roses was put upon our handkerchiefs.  After
some time areca nuts and betel leaves were brought on silver plates,
which the queen herself handed to us; this is a sign that the audience
is at an end, and visitors cannot leave until it is made.  Before
we got up to go, large wreaths of jasmine were hung round our necks,
and small ones round our wrists.  Fruits and sweetmeats were also
sent home to us.

The queen had given the mundsch directions to conduct us round the
whole of the palace.  It is not very large, and the rooms, with
the exception of the reception-saloon, are very simple, and almost without
furniture; in each, cushions covered with white muslin lie upon the
floor.

As we stood upon the terrace of the house, we saw the prince ride
out.  Two servants led his horse, and a number of attendants surrounded
him.  Several officers accompanied him upon elephants, and mounted
soldiers closed the procession.  The latter wore wide white trousers,
short blue jackets, and handsome round caps; they looked very well. 
The people raised a low murmur when they saw the prince, as an indication
of their pleasure.

The mundsch was good enough to show me the mode adopted for making
ice.  The proper time for this is during the months of December
and January; although, even in the month of February, the nights, and
especially the early hours of the morning before sun-rise, are so cold,
that small quantities of water are covered with a thin sheet of ice. 
For this purpose, either shallow pits are dug in earth rich in saltpetre,
{212b} and small
shallow dishes of burnt porous clay are filled with water, and placed
in these pits, or when the soil does not contain any saltpetre, the
highest terraces on the houses are covered with straw, and the little
dishes of water are placed up there.  The thin crusts of ice thus
obtained are broken into small pieces, a little water is poured over
them, and the whole is put into the ice-houses, which are also lined
with straw.  This mode of obtaining ice is already practised in
Benares.

Mr. Hamilton was so obliging as to make the arrangements for the
continuance of my journey.  I could have had the royal camels again,
but preferred a car with oxen, as the loss of time was inconsiderable,
and the trouble far less.  Mr. Hamilton himself made the contract
with the driver, pointed out the stations at which we should stop between
this and Auranjabad (230 miles), gave me an excellent servant and sepoy,
furnished me with letters, and even asked me if I had sufficient money. 
This excellent man did all this with so much amiability, that, in fact,
I scarcely knew whether the kindnesses or the way in which they were
offered, were most to be admired.  And not only in Indor, but everywhere
else that he was known, I heard his name always mentioned with the most
profound respect.

On the 23rd of February I left Indor on my way to the little village
of Simarola.  The road led through delightful groves of palm-trees
and richly cultivated land.  In Simarola, I found a pretty and
comfortably furnished tent, which Mr. Hamilton had sent on, in order
to surprise me with a good night station.  I silently thanked him
most heartily for his care.

24th February.  From Simarola the country was truly picturesque. 
A narrow ledge of rock, in some places scarcely broad enough for the
road, led down a considerable declivity {213}
into small valleys, on the sides of which beautiful mountains towered
up.  The latter were thinly wooded; among the trees I was particularly
struck by two species, the one with yellow, the other with red flowers;
both of them, very singularly, were quite destitute of leaves.

On this side of Kottah the camel trains were less frequent, in consequence
of the very stony state of the road; instead of these, we met trains
of oxen.  We passed some today of incredible extent.  I do
not exaggerate when I affirm that I have seen trains of several thousand
head of cattle, on whose backs, corn, wool, salt, etc., were conveyed. 
I cannot imagine where the food for so many animals is obtained; there
are nowhere any meadows, for, with the exception of the plantations,
the ground is scorched up, or at most covered with thin, parched, jungle
grass, which I never saw any animal eat.

The industry of the women and children in the villages through which
these trains pass is great beyond measure; they provide themselves with
baskets, and follow the train for a considerable distance, collecting
the excrement of the oxen, which they work up into flat bricks, and
dry them in the sun to use as fuel.  Late in the evening, we entered
the village of Burwai, which lies on the river Nurbuda, in the midst
of a storm of thunder and lightning.  I was told that there was
a public bungalow here, but as the darkness of the night prevented our
finding it, I contented myself with the balcony of a house.

25th February.  We had this morning to cross the river Nurbuda,
which, with the preparations for doing so, occupied two hours.

26th February.  Rostampoor.  Between this place and Simarola,
the land is rather barren, and also very thinly inhabited; we often
travelled several miles without seeing a village.

27th February.  Today we were gratified with the prospect of
a fertile country and beautiful mountains.  On an isolated mountain
was situated the famous old fortress of Assergur, from which arose two
half-decayed minarets.  Towards evening we passed between many
ruins; amongst which I observed another handsome mosque, the fore-court,
the minarets, and side walls of which were standing.  Adjoining
this district of ruins, lay the very flourishing town of Berhampoor,
which still numbers 60,000 inhabitants, but I was told that it was formerly
much larger.

An aumil resides in the town, and also an English officer, who keeps
an eye on his proceedings.  We were obliged to pass through the
whole town, through the deep river Taptai, up and down hill, and over
shocking roads, to reach the bungalow of the latter, so that we did
not arrive there till late at night.  Captain Henessey and his
family were already supping: they received me with true cordiality,
and, although worn out with fatigue, and much travel-stained, I took
my place at their hospitable table, and continued a conversation with
this amiable family until a late hour of the night.

28th February.  Unfortunately I was obliged to proceed on my
journey again this morning.  Between Berhampoor and Ichapoor, there
were the most beautiful and varied plantations—corn, flax, cotton,
sugar-cane, poppies, dahl, etc.  The heat had already began to
be oppressive (towards 108° Fah.)  I was at the same time continually
on the road from 4 o’clock in the morning, till 5 or 6 in the
evening, and only seldom made a short halt on the banks of some river,
or under a tree.  It was altogether impossible to travel at night,
as the heaths and jungles were frequently of great extent, and moreover,
somewhat infested with tigers, the presence of which we experienced
on the following day; besides all this, my people were unacquainted
with the road.

29th February.  Today’s stage was one of the most considerable;
we therefore started as early as 3 o’clock in the morning; the
road passed through terrible wastes and wild jungles.  After we
had proceeded for some time quietly, the animals stopped short and remained
as if fixed to the ground, and began to tremble; their fear soon communicated
itself to my people, who shouted, without intermission, the words “Bach!
bach!” which means “Tiger! tiger!”  I
ordered them to continue making as much noise as possible, in order
to scare away the animals if they really were near.  I had some
jungle grass gathered and made a fire, which I kept constantly blazing. 
However, I heard no howling, and observed no other indication of our
dreaded neighbour than the terror of my people and cattle.  Nevertheless,
I awaited the sunrise this time with great anxiety, when we continued
our journey.  We afterwards learnt that scarcely a night passes
in this neighbourhood without an ox, horse, or goat being carried off
by tigers.  Only a few days previously, a poor woman who was late
in returning from gathering jungle grass, had been torn to pieces. 
All the villages were surrounded with high stone and mud walls, whether
from fear of the wild beasts, or from any other cause, I could not learn
with certainty.  These fortified villages extend as far as Auranjabad,
over a distance of 150 miles.

March 1st.  Bodur is an unimportant village.  Upon the
road from Indor to Auranjabad, there are no bungalows with rooms, and
it is very seldom that even an open one is to be found—that is,
a building with three wooden walls, over which a roof is thrown. 
We found one of these bungalows in Bodur.  It was indeed already
taken possession of by about a dozen Indian soldiers, but they withdrew
unasked, and gave up to me half of the airy chamber.  During the
whole night they remained still and quiet, and were not the slightest
annoyance.

2nd March.  Furdapoor, a small village at the foot of beautiful
mountains.  As the poor oxen began to be wearied with travelling,
the driver rubbed them down every evening from head to foot.

3rd March.  Adjunta.  Before coming to this place we passed
a terrible rocky pass which might be easily defended.  The road
was very narrow, and so bad that the poor animals could scarcely make
any way with the empty cars.  On the heights of the pass, a strongly
fortified gate was placed, which closed the narrow road; it was, however,
left open in time of peace.  The low ground and the heights on
the sides were rendered inaccessible by strong and lofty walls.

The view became more delightful at every step: romantic valleys and
ravines, picturesque masses and walls of rock lay on both sides, immeasurable
valleys spread themselves out behind the mountains, while in front the
view swept over an extensive open plain, at the commencement of which
lay the fortress of Adjunta.  We had already reached it at about
8 o’clock in the morning.  Captain Gill resides in Adjunta,
and I had letters of introduction to him from Mr. Hamilton.  When
I expressed a wish, after the first greeting was over, to visit the
famous rock temples of Adjunta, he deeply regretted that he had not
received a letter from me four-and-twenty hours sooner, as the temples
were nearer to Furdapoor than to Adjunta.  What was to be done? 
I was resolved upon seeing them, and had but little time to lose, so
I decided upon retracing my way.  I only provided myself with a
small stock of provisions, and immediately mounted one of the horses
from the captain’s stable, which brought me past the rocky pass
in a good hour.  The road towards the temples here turns off to
the right into desolate, barren mountain valleys, whose death-like stillness
was unbroken by the breathing of an animal, or the song of a bird. 
This place was well calculated to raise and excite expectations.

The temples, twenty-seven in number, are excavated in tall perpendicular
cliffs, which form a semicircle.  In some of the cliffs there are
two stories of temples, one over the other; paths lead to the top, but
these are so narrow and broken, that one is frequently at a loss where
to set the foot.  Beneath are terrible chasms, in which a mountain
stream loses itself; overhead, the smooth rocky surface extends several
hundred feet in height.  The majority of the temples are quadrangular
in form, and the approach to the interior is through verandahs and handsome
gateways, which, from being supported on columns, appear to bear the
weight of the whole mass of rock.  These temples are called “Vihara.” 
In the larger one I counted twenty-eight, in the smallest eight pillars. 
On one, and sometimes on both side-walls, there is a very small dark
cell, in which most probably the priest lived.  In the background,
in a large and lofty cell, is the sanctuary.  Here are gigantic
figures in every position; some measure more than eighteen feet, and
nearly reach to the roof of the temple, which is about twenty-four feet
high.  The walls of the temples and verandahs are full of idols
and statues of good and evil spirits.  In one of the temples, a
battle of giants is represented.  The figures are above life size,
and the whole of the figures, columns, verandahs and gateways, are cut
out of the solid rock.  The enormous number and remarkable beauty
of the sculptures and reliefs on the columns, capitals, friezes, gateways,
and even on the roof of the temples, is indeed most astonishing; the
variety in the designs and devices is inexhaustible.  It appears
incredible that human hands should have been able to execute such masterly
and gigantic works.  The Brahmins do, indeed, ascribe their origin
to supernatural agencies, and affirm that the era of their creation
cannot be ascertained.

Remains of paintings are found on the walls, ceiling, and pillars,
the colours of which are brighter and fresher than those of many modern
works of art.

The second class of temples have an oval form, and have majestic
lofty portals leading immediately into the interior; they are called
chaitya.  The largest of these temples has on each side
a colonnade of nineteen pillars—the smallest, one of eight; in
these there are no verandahs, no priest’s cells, and no sanctuaries. 
Instead of the latter, a high monument stands at the extremity of the
temple.  Upon one of these monuments an upright figure of the deity
Buddha is sculptured in a standing position.  On the walls of the
larger temple gigantic figures are hewn out of the solid rock, and under
these a sleeping Buddha, twenty-one feet in length.

After I had wandered about here for some hours, and had seen enough
of each of the temples, I was led back to one of them, and saw there
a small table well covered with eatables and drinkables, inviting me
to a welcome meal.  Captain Gill had been so kind as to send after
me a choice tiffen, together with table and chairs, into this wilderness. 
Thus refreshed and invigorated, I did not find the return fatiguing. 
The house in which Captain Gill lives at Adjunta is very remarkably
situated: a pleasant little garden, with flowers and shrubs, surrounds
the front, which commands a view of a fine plain, while the back stands
upon the edge of a most fearful precipice, over which the dizzy glance
loses itself among steep crags and terrible gorges and chasms.

As Captain Gill had learnt that I wished to visit the famous fortress
of Dowlutabad, he told me that no one was admitted without the permission
of the commander of Auranjabad; but, to spare my going out of my way
(as the fortress lies on this side of Auranjabad), he offered to send
a courier there immediately, and order him to bring the card of admission
to me at Elora.  The courier had to travel altogether a distance
of 140 miles—70 there and as many back.  I looked upon all
these attentions as the more obliging, as they were shown to me—a
German woman, without distinction or attractions—by English people.

4th March.  At 4 o’clock in the morning, the good captain
joined me at the breakfast table; half an hour later, I was seated in
my waggon and travelling towards the village of Bongeloda, which I reached
the same day.

5th March.  Roja is one of the most ancient towns of India. 
It has a gloomy aspect; the houses are one story high, and built of
large square stones, blackened by age; the doors and windows are few
in number and irregularly situated.

Outside the town lay a handsome bungalow with two rooms; but, as
I was informed that it was occupied by Europeans, I decided upon not
going there, and took up my quarters for the night under the eaves of
a house.

The country between this and Adjunta is a flat plain; the parched
heaths and poor jungles are interspersed with beautiful plantations. 
The land near Pulmary was especially well cultivated.

6th March.  Early in the morning, I mounted a horse for the
purpose of visiting the equally-renowned rock temples of Elora (ten
miles from Roja).  But, as it frequently happens in life that the
proverb, “man proposes and God disposes,” proves true, such
was the case in the present instance—instead of the temples, I
saw a tiger-hunt.

I had scarcely left the gates of the town behind, when I perceived
a number of Europeans seated upon elephants, coming from the bungalow. 
On meeting each other, we pulled up, and commenced a conversation. 
The gentlemen were on the road to search for a tiger-lair, of which
they had received intimation, and invited me, if such a sport would
not frighten me too much, to take part in it.  I was greatly delighted
to receive the invitation, and was soon seated on one of the elephants,
in a howdah about two feet high, in which there were already two gentlemen
and a native—the latter had been brought to load the guns. 
They gave me a large knife to defend myself with, in case the animal
should spring too high and reach the side of the howdah.

Thus prepared, we approached the chain of hills, and, after a few
hours, were already pretty near the lair of the tigers, when our servants
cried out quite softly, “Bach, bach!” and pointed
with their fingers to some brushwood.  I had scarcely perceived
the flaming eyes which glared out of one of the bushes before shots
were fired.  Several balls took effect on the animal, who rushed,
maddened, upon us.  He made such tremendous springs, that I thought
every moment he must reach the howdah and select a victim from among
us.  The sight was terrible to see, and my apprehensions were increased
by the appearance of another tiger; however, I kept myself so calm,
that none of the gentlemen had any suspicion of what was going on in
my mind.  Shot followed shot; the elephants defended their trunks
with great dexterity by throwing them up or drawing them in.  After
a sharp contest of half an hour, we were the victors, and the dead animals
were triumphantly stripped of their beautiful skins.  The gentlemen
politely offered me one of them as a present; but I declined accepting
it, as I could not postpone my journey sufficiently long for it to be
dried.  They complimented me on my courage, and added, that such
sport would be extremely dangerous if the elephants were not particularly
well trained; above all, they must not be afraid of the tigers, nor
even stir from the spot; for, if they ran away, the hunters would be
upset by the branches of the trees, or be left hanging upon them, when
they would certainly become the victims of the bloodthirsty animals. 
It was too late to visit the temples today, and I therefore waited till
the next morning.

The temples of Elora lie on that kind of table-land which is peculiar
to India.  The principal temple, Kylas, is the most wonderful of
all those which are hewn out of the rock.  It surpasses, in magnitude
and finish, the best specimens of Indian architecture; it is, indeed,
affirmed to have claims to precedence over the marvellous buildings
of the ancient Egyptians.  The Kylas is of conical form, 120 feet
in height and 600 in circumference.  For the construction of this
masterwork, a colossal block was separated from the solid rock by a
passage 240 feet long and 100 broad.  The interior of the temple
consists of a principal hall (66 feet long by 100 broad), and several
adjoining halls, which are all furnished with sculptures and gigantic
idols; but the real magnificence consists in the rich and beautiful
sculptures on the exterior, in the tastefully-executed arabesques, and
in the fine pinnacles and niches, which are cut out on the tower. 
The temple rests on the backs of numerous elephants and tigers, which
lie next to each other in peaceful attitudes.  Before the principal
entrance, to which several flights of steps lead, stand two figures
of elephants above life-size.  The whole is, as has been said before,
hewn from a single mass of rock.  The cliff from which this immense
block was separated surrounds the temple, on three sides, at a distance
of 100 feet, forming colossal perpendicular walls, in which, as at Adjunta,
enormous colonnades, larger and smaller temples, from two to three stories
high, are excavated.  The principal temple is called Rameswur,
and somewhat exceeds in size the largest vichara at Adjunta; its breadth
is ninety-eight feet, it extends into the rock 102 feet, and the height
of the ceiling is twenty-four feet; it is supported by twenty-two pilasters,
and covered with the most beautiful sculptures, reliefs, and colossal
gods, among which the principal group represents the marriage of the
god Ram and the goddess Seeta.  A second vichara, nearly as handsome
as this last, is called Laoka; the principal figure in this is Shiva.

Not far distant, a number of similar temples are excavated in another
rock.  They are much more simple, with unattractive portals and
plain columns; therefore, not to be compared with those at Adjunta. 
This task would have been impossible if the rock had been granite or
a similar primitive foundation; unfortunately, I could not ascertain
what the rock was, I only examined the pieces which were here and there
chipped off, and which were very easily broken.  It is not with
the less astonishment that one contemplates these surprising works,
which will always be considered as inimitable monuments of human ingenuity.

The temple of Kylas is, unfortunately, somewhat decayed from age
and the destructive action of the weather.  It is a sad pity that
the only monument of this kind in the world will, by-and-bye, fall into
ruins.  Towards 11 o’clock in the morning I returned to Roja,
and immediately continued my journey to the famous fortress Dowlutabad,
having safely received the admission in Roja.

The distance was only eight miles; but the roads were execrably bad,
and there was a mountain-pass to cross similar to that near Adjunta. 
The fortress, one of the oldest and strongest in India, is considered
as the most remarkable of its kind, not only in the Deccan but in all
India.  It presents a most imposing aspect, and is situated upon
a peak of rock 600 feet high, which stands isolated in a beautiful plain,
and appears to have been separated from the adjoining mountains by some
violent natural convulsion.  The circumference of this rock amounts
to about a mile.  It is cut round perpendicularly to a height of
130 feet and thirty feet below the top of the moat by which it is surrounded,
which cutting is equally perpendicular, so that the whole height of
the escarpment is 160 feet, and the rock, consequently, inaccessible. 
There is no pathway leading to the fortress, and I was, therefore, extremely
curious to know by what means the summit was reached.  In the side
of the rock itself was a very low iron door, which is only visible in
time of peace, as the ditch can be filled a foot above its level when
required.  Torches were lighted, and I was carefully conducted
through narrow low passages, which led with numerous windings upwards
through the body of the rock.  These passages were closed in many
places by massive iron gates.  Some considerable distance above
the precipitous part of the rock, we again emerged into the open air;
narrow paths and steps, protected by strongly-fortified works, led from
this place to the highest point.  The latter was somewhat flattened,
(140 feet in diameter), completely undermined, and so contrived, that
it could be heated red-hot.  A cannon, twenty-three feet long,
was planted here.

At the foot of this fortress are scattered numerous ruins, which,
I was told, were the remains of a very important town; nothing is left
of it now except the fortified walls, three or four feet deep, which
must be passed to reach the peak of rock itself.

In the same plain, but near to the range of mountains, standing on
a separate elevation, is a considerably larger fortress than Dowlutabad,
but of far inferior strength.

The numerous fortresses, as well as the fortified towns, were, as
I here learned, the remnants of past times, when Hindostan was divided
into a great number of states, continually at war with each other. 
The inhabitants of the towns and villages never went out unarmed; they
had spies continually on the watch; and to secure themselves from sudden
attacks, drove their herds inside the walls every night, and lived in
a continual state of siege.  In consequence of the unceasing warfare
which prevailed, bands of mounted robbers were formed, frequently consisting
of as many as ten or twelve thousand men, who too often starved out
and overcame the inhabitants of the smaller towns, and completely destroyed
their young crops.  These people were then compelled to enter into
a contract with these wild hordes, and to buy themselves off by a yearly
tribute.

Since the English have conquered India, peace and order have been
everywhere established; the walls decay and are not repaired; the people
indeed frequently wear arms, but more from habit than necessity.

The distance from Dowlutabad to Auranjabad was eight miles. 
I was already much fatigued, for I had visited the temples, ridden eight
miles over the mountain pass, and mounted to the top of the fortress
during the greatest heat; but I looked forward to the night, which I
preferred passing in a house and a comfortable bed, rather than under
an open verandah; and, seating myself in my waggon, desired the driver
to quicken the pace of his weary oxen as much as possible.

CHAPTER XVI.  CONTINUATION OF JOURNEY AND SOJOURN.

AURANJABAD—PUNA—EAST INDIAN MARRIAGES—THE FOOLISH
WAGGONER—BOMBAY—THE PARSEES, OR FIRE-WORSHIPPERS—INDIAN
BURIAL CEREMONIES—THE ISLAND OF ELEPHANTA—THE ISLAND OF
SALSETTE.

On the 7th of March, late in the evening, I reached Auranjabad. 
Captain Stewart, who lived outside the town, received me with the same
cordiality as the other residents had done.

8th March.  Captain Stewart and his wife accompanied me this
morning to the town to show me its objects of interest, which consisted
of a monument and a sacred pool.  Auranjabad is the capital of
the Deccan, has 60,000 inhabitants, and is partly in ruins.

The monument, which is immediately outside the town, was built more
than two hundred years since by the Sultan Aurung-zeb-Alemgir, in memory
of his daughter.  It by no means deserves to be compared to the
great Tadsch at Agra.  It is a mosque, with a lofty arched dome
and four minarets.  The building is covered all round—the
lower part of the outside with a coating of white marble five feet high;
the upper portion is cased with fine white cement, which is worked over
with ornamental flowers and arabesques.  The entrance doors are
beautifully inlaid with metal, on which flowers and ornamental designs
are engraved in a highly artistic manner.  Unfortunately, the monument
is already much decayed; one of the minarets is half fallen in ruins. 
In the mosque stands a plain sarcophagus, surrounded by a marble trellis-work. 
Both have nothing in common with the great Tadsch beyond the white marble
of which they are constructed; in richness and artistic execution, they
are so much inferior, that I could not understand how any one could
be led to make so incredible a comparison.

Near the mosque lies a pretty marble hall, surrounded by a neglected
garden.

The reigning king would have removed the marble from this monument
for use in some building in which he was to be interred!  He requested
permission to do so from the English government.  The answer was
to the effect, that he could do so if he wished, but he should remember,
that if he had so little respect for the monuments of his predecessors,
his own might experience a similar fate.  This answer induced him
to relinquish his intentions.

The pool considered sacred by the Mahomedans is a large basin, constructed
of square stones.  It is full of large pikes, none of which, however,
are allowed to be taken; in fact, there is an attendant appointed to
supply them with food.  The fish are consequently so tame and familiar,
that they will eat turnips, bread, etc., out of the hand.  The
rainy season causes the death of many of them: were it not for this
fortunate circumstance, the pool would before long contain more fish
than water.  Since the English have come here, the attendants are
said not to be so conscientious, and very often smuggle fish out of
the pool into the English kitchens, for the sake of a little ready money.

After spending a very agreeable day, I took a hearty farewell of
my friendly hostess, and continued my journey in a fresh waggon towards
Puna, 136 miles distant.

9th March.  Toka.  The roads here began to be better, and
there were bungalows to be had on payment of the ordinary fees.

10th March.  Emanpoor, a small village situated on the summit
of a chain of hills.  I found here the handsomest bungalow I had
seen during the whole journey from Benares to Bombay.

11th March.  We passed the whole day in travelling through a
barren country, over naked hills and mountains: the majestic solitary
trees with the wells had already ceased at Auranjabad.

Towards noon we passed the very flourishing town of Ahmednugger,
in the neighbourhood of which a large English military station is established.

12th March.  The bungalow at Serur was too near, that at Candapoor
too distant.  I therefore decided upon taking up my quarters for
the night under the eaves of a house.

13th March.  In Candapoor there are some handsome Hindoo temples
and several small Mahomedan monuments.  Near Lony is a large English
military station.  I also found an obelisk erected there in memory
of a battle won by 1,200 English against 20,000 natives.

14th March.  Puna.  I had endless trouble here to find
Mr. Brown, to whom I had an introduction from Mr. Hamilton.  The
Europeans reside in all parts of the town, for the most part miles apart,
and I had the misfortune to meet with some who were not the most polite,
and did not consider it worth taking the trouble to give me information. 
Mr. Brown, on the contrary, received me as kindly as I could desire.

His first inquiry was whether any accident had happened to me on
the road.  He told me that, only a short time since, an officer
was robbed between Suppa and Puna, and as he attempted to defend himself,
was murdered; but he added that such instances were extraordinarily
rare.

I had arrived about noon.  After dinner, Mr. Brown conducted
me to the town, which belongs to the East India Company.  It contains
15,000 inhabitants, and is situated at the junction of the rivers Mulla
and Mutta, over both of which handsome bridges are thrown.  The
streets are broad and kept clean; the houses, like those in Udjein,
are furnished with false wooden walls.  Some were painted all over,
and belonged mostly, as I was informed, to fakirs, with whom the town
swarmed.

It was the month in which the Hindoos prefer to celebrate their marriages,
and we met in several streets merry processions of that kind. 
The bridegroom is enveloped in a purple mantle, his turban dressed out
with gold tinsel, tresses, ribbons, and tassels, so that from a distance
it appears like a rich crown.  The depending ribbons and tassels
nearly cover the whole face.  He is seated upon a horse; relatives,
friends, and guests surround him on foot.  When he reaches the
house of the bride, the doors and windows of which are securely closed,
he seats himself quietly and patiently on the threshold.  The female
relations and friends also gather together here, without conversing
much with the bridegroom and the other men.  This scene continues
unchanged until nightfall.  The bridegroom then departs with his
friends; a closely covered waggon, which has been held in readiness,
is drawn up to the door; the females slip into the house, bring out
the thickly-veiled bride, push her into the waggon, and follow her with
the melodious music of the tam-tam.  The bride does not start until
the bridegroom has been gone a quarter of an hour.  The women then
accompany her into the bridegroom’s house, which, however, they
leave soon afterwards.  The music is kept up in front of the house
until late in the night.  It is only the marriages of the lower
classes that are celebrated in this manner.

There is a road leading from Puna to Pannwell, a distance of seventy
miles, and travellers can post all the way.  From Pannwell to Bombay
the journey is made by water.  I adhered to the cheaper baili,
and Mr. Brown was so obliging as to procure one for me, and to lend
me a servant.

On the 15th of March I again set out, and on the same day arrived
at Woodgown, a village with one of the dirtiest bungalows in which I
ever made up my bed.

16th March.  Cumpuily.  The country between this place
and Woodgown is the most beautiful that I saw in India; the view from
a mountain some miles on this side of Kundalla, was particularly striking. 
The spectator stands here in the midst of an extensive mountainous district:
peaks of the most diversified forms are piled in numerous rows above
and alongside of each other, presenting the most beautiful and variegated
outlines.

There are, also, enormous terraces of rock, flattened cones of peaks,
with battlements and pinnacles, which at first sight might be taken
for ruins and fortresses.  In one place the lofty roof of a majestic
building presents itself—in another, a gigantic Gothic tower rises
aloft.  The volcanic form of the Tumel mountain is the most uncommon
object which meets the eye.  Beyond the mountains extends a wide
plain, at the extremity of which lies the polished surface of the long
wished-for ocean.  The greater part of the mountains is covered
with beautiful green woods.  I was so much delighted with the extreme
beauty of the prospect, that I congratulated myself for the first time
on the slow pace of my sleepy oxen.

The village of Karly lies between Woodgown and Kundalla; it is famous
on account of its temples, which are about two miles distant. 
I did not visit them, because I was assured that they were not half
so interesting as those at Adjunta and Elora.

Kundalla lies upon a mountain plateau.  There are several pretty
country-houses here, to which many European families, from the neighbourhood
of Bombay, resort during the hot weather.

In the Deccan, and the province of Bombay, I found the natives were
less handsome than in Bengal and Hindostan; their features were much
coarser, and not so open and amiable.

For several days we have again met very large trains of oxen, some
of the drivers of which had their families with them.  The females
of these people were very ragged and dirty, and at the same time loaded
with finery.  The whole body was covered with coloured woollen
borderings and fringes, the arms with bracelets of metal, bone, and
glass beads; even to the ears large woollen tassels were hung, in addition
to the usual ornaments, and the feet were loaded with heavy rings and
chains.  Thus bedecked, the beauties sat on the backs of the oxen,
or walked by the side of the animals.

17th March.  Since the attack of the negroes in Brazil, I had
not been in such a fright as I was today.  My driver had appeared
to me, during the whole journey, somewhat odd in his manner, or rather
foolish: sometimes abusing his oxen, sometimes caressing them, shouting
to the passers-by, or turning round and staring at me for some minutes
together.  However, as I had a servant with me who always walked
by the baili, I paid little attention to him.  But this morning
my servant had gone on, without my consent, to the next station, and
I found myself alone with this foolish driver, and on a rather secluded
road.  After some time he got down from the waggon, and went close
behind it.  The bailis are only covered over at the sides with
straw matting, and are open at the front and back; I could therefore
observe what he was doing, but I would not turn round, as I did not
wish to make him think that I suspected him.  I, however, moved
my head gradually on one side to enable me to watch his proceedings. 
He soon came in front again, and, to my terror, took from the waggon
the hatchet which every driver carries with him, and again retired behind. 
I now thought nothing less than that he had evil intentions, but I could
not fly from him, and dare not, of course, evince any fear.  I
very gently and unobserved drew my mantle towards me, rolled it together,
so that I might, at least, protect my head with it, in case he made
a blow at me with the hatchet.

He kept me for some time in this painful state of suspense, then
seated himself on his place and stared at me, got down again, and repeated
the same proceedings several times.  It was not until after a long
hour that he laid the hatchet on one side, remained sitting on the waggon,
and contented himself with gaping vacantly at me every now and then. 
At the end of a second hour we reached the station where my servant
was, and I did not allow him to leave my side again.

The villages through which we passed today were of the most wretched
description; the walls of the huts were constructed of rushes, or reeds,
covered with palm leaves; some had no front wall.

These villages are chiefly inhabited by Mahrattas, a race which were,
at one period, rather powerful in India, and indeed in the whole peninsula. 
They were, however, expelled from Hindostan by the Mongols, in the eighteenth
century, and fled into the mountains which extend from Surata to Goa. 
During the present century, the majority of these people were compelled
to place themselves under the protection of the English.  The only
Mahratta prince who still maintains, in any degree, his independence,
is the Scindiah; the others receive pensions.

The Mahrattas are adherent to the religion of Brahma.  They
are powerfully built; the colour of their skin varies from dirty black
to clear brown; their features are repulsive and ill-formed.  They
are inured to all manner of hardships, live chiefly upon rice and water,
and their disposition is represented as being morose, revengeful, and
savage.  They excite themselves to fighting by means of opium,
or Indian hemp, which they smoke like tobacco.

In the afternoon, I reached the little town of Pannwell.  Travellers
embark, towards the evening, in boats, and proceed down the river Pannwell
to the sea, reaching Bombay about morning.

I had safely completed the long and tedious journey from Delhi to
Pannwell in seven weeks.  For having accomplished it I was especially
indebted to the English officials, who afforded me both advice and assistance;
their humanity, their cordial friendliness I shall ever remember. 
I again offer them my most sincere and warmest thanks; and the greatest
compliment which I can pay them is the wish that my own countrymen,
the Austrian consuls and ambassadors, resembled them!

At Bombay I stayed at the country-house of the Hamburgh consul, Herr
Wattenbach, intending only to draw upon his hospitality for a few days,
and to leave as soon as possible, in order to take advantage of the
monsoon {225} in
my passage through the Arabian and Persian seas.  Days, however,
grew into weeks, for the favourable time was already past, and the opportunity
of meeting with ship conveyance was there very rare.

Herr Wattenbach made my stay in Bombay very agreeable; he showed
me everything worth seeing, and accompanied me in excursions to Elephanta
and Salsette.

Bombay lies on a small but remarkably pretty island, which is separated
from the mainland by a very narrow arm of the sea; its extent is about
five square miles, and it is inhabited by 250,000 souls.  Bombay
is the principal town of Western India, and as its harbour is the best
and safest on the whole west coast, it is the chief seat of commerce
for the produce and manufactures of India, the Malay country, Persia,
Arabia, and Abyssinia.  In a commercial respect, it stands only
second to Calcutta.  In Bombay, every language of the civilized
world is to be heard, and the costumes and habits of every nation are
to be seen.  The finest view of the whole island and town of Bombay,
as well as the neighbouring islands of Salsette, Elephanta, Kolabeh,
Caranjah, and the mainland, is to be had from the Malabar point. 
The country, at some distance from the town, consists chiefly of low
hills, which are covered with beautiful woods of cocoa-nut and date-trees;
in the plain surrounding the town there are also many such groves divided
into gardens by walls.  The natives are very fond of building their
dwellings under the dark shadows of these trees; while, on the contrary,
the Europeans seek for as much light and air as possible.  The
country-houses of the latter are handsome and convenient, but not to
be compared with those of Calcutta, either in size or magnificence. 
The town lies on a level, along the sea-shore.

The active life of the rich inland and European commercial population
must be sought for in the fortified parts of the town, which constitute
a large quadrangle.  Here is to be found merchandise from all parts
of the world.  The streets are handsome, the large square called
The Green especially so.  The buildings most remarkable for their
architectural beauty are the Town-hall, whose saloon has no equal, the
English Church, the Governor’s Palace, and the Mint.

The Open Town and the Black Town {226}
adjoin the fortified portions, and are considerably larger.  In
the Open Town, the streets are very regular and broad, more so than
any other Indian city that I saw; they are also carefully watered. 
I observed many houses decorated with artistically-carved wooden pillars,
capitals, and galleries.  The bazaar is an object of great interest;
not, as many travellers affirm, on account of the richness of the merchandise,
of which there is not more to be seen than in other bazaars—in
fact, there is not even any of the beautiful wood mosaic work of which
Bombay produces the finest—but from the diversity of people, which
is greater here than anywhere else.  Three parts, indeed, are Hindoos,
and the fourth Mahomedans, Persians, Fire-worshippers, Mahrattas, Jews,
Arabs, Bedouins, Negroes, descendants of Portuguese, several hundred
Europeans, and even some Chinese and Hottentots.  It requires a
long time to be able to distinguish the people of the different nations
by their dress and the formation of their faces.

The most wealthy among people owning property here are the Fire-worshippers,
called also Gebers, or Parsees.  They were expelled from Persia
about 1,200 years since, and settled down along the west coast of India. 
As they are remarkably industrious and hard-working, very well disposed
and benevolent, there are no poor, no beggars to be found among them—all
appear to be prosperous.  The handsome houses in which the Europeans
reside mostly belong to them; they are the largest owners of land, ride
out in the most beautiful carriages, and are surrounded by innumerable
servants.  One of the richest of them—Jamsetize-Jeejeebhoy—built,
at his own expense, a handsome hospital in the Gothic style, and provides
European medical men and receives the sick of every religious denomination. 
He was knighted by the English government, and is certainly the first
Hindoo who could congratulate himself on such a distinction.

While speaking of the Fire-worshippers, I will relate all that I
myself saw of them, as well as what I learnt from Manuckjee-Cursetjee,
one of the most cultivated and distinguished among them.

The Fire-worshippers believe in one Supreme Being.  They pay
the greatest reverence to the four elements, and especially to the element
of fire, and to the sun, because they look upon them as emblems of the
Supreme Being.  Every morning they watch for the rising sun, and
hasten out of their houses, and even outside of the town, to greet it
immediately with prayers.  Besides the elements, the cow is considered
sacred by them.

Soon after my arrival, I went one morning upon the esplanade of the
town for the purpose of seeing the great number of Parsees {227}
who, as I had read, assembled themselves there waiting for the first
rays of the sun, on the appearance of which, as if at a given signal,
they throw themselves on the ground, and raise a loud cry of joy. 
I, however, merely saw several Parsees, not in groups, but standing
separately here and there, reading silently from a book, or murmuring
a prayer to themselves.  These did not even come at the same time,
for many arrived as late as 9 o’clock.

It was precisely the same with the corpses which are stated to be
exposed upon the roofs for the birds of prey to feed upon.  I saw
not a single one.  In Calcutta, Mr. V—, who had but recently
come from Bombay, assured me that he had himself seen many.  I
cannot believe that the English government would permit such a barbarous
proceeding, and one so prejudicial to health.  But I must resume
my narrative.  My first question, after I had been introduced to
Manuckjee, was as to the manner in which the Parsees bury their dead. 
He conducted me to a hill outside the town, and pointed out a wall,
four-and-twenty feet high, enclosing a round space of about sixty feet
in diameter.  He told me that within this wall there was a bier,
with three partitions, built up, and near to it a large pit excavated. 
The bodies of the deceased are placed upon the bier, the men on the
first, the women on the second, and children on the third compartment,
and are fastened down with iron bands; and, according to the commands
of their religion, are left exposed to the action of the element of
air.  The birds of prey, which always gather in large swarms round
such places, fall upon the bodies ravenously, and in a few minutes devour
the flesh and skin; the bones are gathered up and thrown into the cave. 
When this becomes full, the place is abandoned and another erected.

Many wealthy people have private burial-places, over which they have
fine wire gauze stretched, so that the deceased members of their family
may not be stripped of their flesh by birds of prey.

No one is allowed to enter the burial-ground except the priests,
who carry the bodies; even the door is rapidly closed, for only one
glance into it would be a sin.  The priests, or rather bearers,
are considered so impure that they are excluded from all other society,
and form a separate caste.  Whoever has the misfortune to brush
against one of these men, must instantly throw off his clothes and bathe.

The Parsees are not less exclusive with respect to their temples;
no one of any other belief is allowed to enter them, or even to look
in.  The temples which I saw here, of course only from the outside,
are very small, extremely plain, and destitute of the slightest peculiarity
of architecture; the round entrance-hall surrounds a kind of fore-court,
enclosed by a wall.  I was only allowed to go as far as the entrance
of the wall leading to the fore-court.  The handsomest temple in
Bombay {228} is
a small unimportant building, and I must again contradict those descriptions
which make so much of the beautiful temples of the Fire-worshippers.

As I was informed by Manuckjee, the fire burns in a kind of iron
vase, in a completely empty, unornamented temple or apartment. 
The Parsees affirm that the fire which burns in the principal temple,
and at which all the others are lighted, originates from the fire which
their prophet, Zoroaster, lighted in Persia 4,000 years since. 
When they were driven out of Persia they took it with them.  This
fire is not fed with ordinary wood alone; more costly kinds, such as
sandal, rose-wood, and such like, are mixed with it.

The priests are called magi, and in each temple there is a considerable
number of them.  They are distinguished, as regards their dress,
from the other Parsees, only by a white turban.  They are allowed
to marry.

The women visit the temple generally at different hours from the
men.  They are not forbidden to go there at the same time as the
latter; but they never do so, and, indeed, very seldom go at all. 
A pious Parsee is supposed to pray daily four times, and each time for
an hour; for this purpose, however, it is not necessary that he should
go to the temple; he fixes his eyes upon fire, earth, or water, or stares
into the open air.  Whoever finds four hours of prayer daily too
much, ingratiates himself with the priests, who are humane and considerate,
like the priests of other religions, and willingly release applicants
from their cares for the consideration of a moderate gift.

The Parsees prefer offering up their prayers in the morning in the
presence of the sun, which they honour the most, as the greatest and
most sacred fire.  The worship of fire is carried to such an extent
by them that they do not pursue any trades which require the use of
fire, neither will they fire a gun, or extinguish a light.  They
let their kitchen-fires burn out.  Many travellers even affirm
that they will not assist in extinguishing a conflagration; but this
is not the case.  I was assured that on such an occasion, some
years since, many Parsees had been seen giving their help to put the
fire out.

Manuckjee was so obliging as to invite me to his house, that I might
become acquainted in some degree with the mode of life of Parsee families;
he also conducted me to the houses of several of his friends.

I found the rooms furnished in the European manner, with chairs,
tables, sofas, ottomans, pictures, mirrors, etc.  The dress of
the women was little different from that of the more wealthy Hindoos;
it was more decorous, as it was not made of transparent muslin, but
of silk; and they had, moreover, trousers.  The silk was richly
embroidered with gold, which luxury is extended to three-year old children. 
The younger ones, and even the newly-born infants, are wrapped in plain
silk stuff.  The children wore little caps, worked with gold and
silver.  The Parsee women consider gold ornaments, pearl and precious
stones as necessary a part of their dress as the Hindoos; even in the
house they wear a great quantity, but when visiting, or on the occasion
of any festival, the jewellery of a wealthy Parsee woman is said to
exceed in value 100,000 rupees (£10,000).  Children of only
seven or eight months old, wear finger-rings and bracelets of precious
stones or pearls.

The dress of the men consists of wide trousers and long kaftans. 
The shirts and trousers are chiefly made of white silk, the jacket of
white muslin.  The turban differs greatly from that of the Mahomedans;
it is a cap of pasteboard, covered with coloured stuff or waxed cloth,
ten or twelve inches high.

Both men and women wear round their waists, over the shirt, a girdle
passing twice round, which they take off during prayers and hold in
their hands; with this exception, they are never seen without it. 
The law is so strict with regard to the point, that whoever does not
wear the girdle is driven out of society.  No agreement or contract
is valid if the girdle is not worn when it is made.  The children
begin to wear it when they reach their ninth year.  Before this
ceremony, they do not belong to the community; they may even eat of
food prepared by Christians, and the girls can accompany their fathers
in a public place.  The girdle changes all; the son eats at his
father’s table, the girls remain at home, etc.

A second religious ordinance relates to the shirt; this must be cut
of a certain length and breadth, and consist of nine seams, which are
folded over each other on the breast in a peculiar manner.

A Parsee is allowed to have only one wife.  If the wife has
no children, or only girls, during a period of nine years, he can, if
she consents, be divorced from her, and marry another; he must, however,
still provide for her.  She can also marry again.  According
to the religious belief of the Parsee, he is certain to enjoy perfect
happiness in a future state of existence if he has a wife and a son
in this life.

The Parsees are not divided into castes.  In the course of time
the Parsees have acquired many of the customs of the Hindoos. 
For example, the women are not allowed to show themselves in public
places; in the house they are separated from the men, take their meals
alone, and are, upon the whole, considered more as mere property. 
The girls are promised when children, and betrothed to the man when
in their fourteenth year; if, however, the bridegroom dies, the parents
can seek for another.  It is considered by the Parsees to be a
disgrace if the father does not find a husband for his daughter.

The Parsee women, however, enjoy far more freedom in their houses
than the unfortunate Hindoos: they are allowed to sit even at the front
windows, and sometimes be present when their husbands receive visits
from their male friends, and on both occasions without being veiled.

The Parsees may be easily distinguished from all other Asiatic people
by their features, and especially by the lighter colour of their skin. 
Their features are rather regular, but somewhat sharp, and the cheekbones
are broad.  I did not think them so handsome as the Mahomedans
and Hindoos.

Manuckjee is a great exception to his country people.  He is,
perhaps, the first who has visited Paris, London, and a considerable
part of Italy.  He was so well pleased with European manners and
customs, that on his return he endeavoured to introduce several reforms
among the people of his sect.  Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful. 
He was decried as a man who did not know what he would be doing, and
many withdrew from him their friendship and respect in consequence.

He allows his family to go about the house with freedom; but even
there he cannot depart much from established custom, as he does not
wish to separate entirely from his sect.  His daughters are educated
in the European method; the eldest plays a little on the piano, embroiders,
and sews.  She wrote a small paragraph in English in my album very
well.  Her father did not engage her as a child, but wished that
her own inclinations might correspond with his selection of a husband. 
I was told that she would probably not meet with one, because she is
educated too much in the European style; she is already fourteen years
of age, and her father has not yet provided her with a bridegroom.

When I first visited this house, the mother and daughters were seated
in a drawing-room, engaged with needlework.  I remained during
their meal-time, a liberty which an orthodox Parsee would not have afforded
to me; I was not, however, allowed to join them at table.  It was
first laid for me, and I ate alone.  Several dishes were placed
before me, which, with slight deviations, were prepared in the European
manner.  Everyone, with the exception of the master of the house,
watched with surprise the way in which I used a knife and fork; even
the servants stared at this, to them, singular spectacle.  When
I had sufficiently appeased my appetite in this public manner, the table
was as carefully brushed as if I had been infected with the plague. 
Flat cakes of bread were then brought and laid upon the uncovered table,
instead of plates, and six or seven of the same dishes which had been
served to me.  The members of the family each washed their hands
and faces, and the father said a short grace.  All except the youngest
child, who was only six years of age, sat at the table, and reached
with their right hands into the different dishes.  They tore the
flesh from the bones, separated the fish into pieces, and then dipped
the pieces into the various soups and sauces, and threw them with such
dexterity into the mouth, that they did not touch their lips with their
fingers.  Whoever accidentally does, must immediately get up and
wash his hand again, or else place before him the dish into which he
has put his unwashed hand, and not touch any other one.  The left
hand is not used during the whole meal time.

This mode of eating appears, indeed, very uninviting; but it is,
in fact, not at all so; the hand is washed, and does not touch anything
but the food.  It is the same in drinking; the vessel is not put
to the lips, but the liquid is very cleverly poured into the open mouth. 
Before the children have acquired this dexterity in eating and drinking,
they are not permitted, even when they wear the girdle, to come to the
table of the adults.

The most common drink in Bombay is called sud or toddy, a kind of
light spirituous beverage which is made from the cocoa and date-palm. 
The taxes upon these trees are very high; the latter are, as in Egypt,
numbered and separately assessed.  A tree which is only cultivated
for fruit, pays from a quarter to half a rupee (6d. to 1s.); those from
which toddy is extracted, from three-quarters to one rupee each. 
The people here do not climb the palm-trees by means of rope-ladders,
but they cut notches in the tree, in which they set their feet.

During my stay here, an old Hindoo woman died near to Herr Wattenbach’s
house, which circumstance gave me an opportunity of witnessing an Indian
funeral.  As soon as she began to show signs of death, the women
about her every now and then set up a horrible howling, which they continued
at short intervals after her decease.  Presently, small processions
of six or eight women approached, who also commenced howling as soon
as they discovered the house of the mourners.  These women all
entered the house.  The men, of whom there were a great number
present, seated themselves quietly in front of it.  At the expiration
of some hours, the dead body was enveloped in a white shroud, laid upon
an open bier, and carried by the men to the place where it was to be
burnt.  One of them carried a vessel with charcoal and a piece
of lighted wood, for the purpose of igniting the wood with the fire
of the house.

The women remained behind, and collected in front of the house in
a small circle, in the middle of which was placed a woman who was hired
to assist in the lamentations.  She commenced a wailing song of
several stanzas, at the end of each of which the whole joined in chorus;
they kept time also by beating their breasts with the right hand and
bowing their heads to the ground.  They executed this movement
as quickly and regularly as if they had been dolls worked by a wire.

After this had been carried on for a quarter of an hour, there was
a short pause, during which the women struck their breasts with both
their fists so violently, that the blows could be heard at some considerable
distance.  After each blow, they stretched their hands up high
and bowed their heads very low, all with great regularity and rapidity. 
This proceeding seemed even more comical than the first.  After
much exertion, they seated themselves round in a ring, drank toddy,
and smoked tobacco.

On the following morning, both men and women repeated their visit. 
The former, however, did not enter the house; they lit a fire and prepared
a plain meal.  As often as a party of women came, one of the men
went to the house-door and announced them, upon which the principal
mourner came out of the house to receive them.  She threw herself
with such violence on the ground before them, that I thought she would
not be able to rise up again; the women struck themselves with their
fists once on their breasts, and then drew their hands to their heads. 
The widow raised herself in the meantime, threw herself impetuously
round the necks of each of the women, throwing, at the same time, her
head-dress over the head of her consoler, and both endeavoured to out-do
each other in howling.  All these evolutions were very rapidly
performed; a dozen embraces were gone through in a moment.  After
the reception, they went into the house and continued howling at intervals. 
It was not until sun-set that all was still, and a supper concluded
the whole affair.  The women ate in the house—the men in
the open air.

Funerals and marriages always cost the Hindoos a great deal. 
The one here described was that of a woman of the poorer class. 
Nevertheless, it is considered essential that there should be no want
of toddy during two days, or of provisions for meals, at which there
are an abundance of guests.  In addition to this, there is the
wood, which also costs a considerable sum, even when it is only common
wood.  The rich, who use on such occasions the most costly wood,
frequently pay more than a thousand rupees (£100).

I once met the funeral procession of a Hindoo child.  It lay
upon a cushion, covered with a white sheet, and was strewed with fresh
and beautiful flowers.  A man carried it on both his arms as gently
and carefully as if it was sleeping.  In this instance, also, there
were only men present.

The Hindoos have no particular festival-day in the week, but festivals
at certain times, which last for some days.  I was present at one
of these during my stay, Warusche-Parupu, the New-Year’s festival,
which took place on the 11th of April.  It was a kind of fast-night
celebration.  The principal amusement consisted in throwing yellow,
brown, and red colours over each other, and painting themselves with
the same on their cheeks and foreheads.  The noisy tam-tam, or
a couple of violins, headed the procession, and greater or less followed,
who, laughing and singing, danced from house to house, or from one place
to another.  Several, indeed, on this occasion, found the toddy
rather too exciting, but not so much as to lose their consciousness
or to exceed the bounds of decorum.  The women do not take part
in these public processions; but, in the evening, both sexes assemble
in the houses, where the festivities are said not to be carried on in
the most decorous manner.

Martyrs’ festivals are no longer celebrated with full splendour. 
I did not see any; their time is past.  I was, however, so fortunate
as to see a martyr, to whom great numbers of people flocked.  This
holy man had, for three-and-twenty years, held one of his arms raised
up with the hand turned back so far that a flower-pot could stand upon
it.  The three-and-twenty years were passed, and the flower-pot
was removed; but neither hand nor arm were to be brought into any other
position, for the muscles had contracted, the arm was quite withered,
and presented a most repulsive appearance.

The Island of Elephanta is about six or eight miles distant from
Bombay.  Herr Wattenbach was so kind as to take me there one day. 
I saw some rather high mountains, which, however, we did not ascend;
we visited only the temples, which are very near to the landing-place.

The principal temple resembles the larger viharas at Adjunta, with
the single exception, that it is separated on both sides from the solid
rock, and is connected with it only above, below, and at the back. 
In the sanctuary stands a gigantic three-headed bust.  Some believe
that it represents the Hindoo Trinity; one of the heads is full-faced,
the two others in profile, one right, the other left.  The bust,
including the head-dress, measures certainly as much as eight feet. 
On the walls and in the niches, there are a number of giant statues
and figures; in fact, whole scenes of the Hindoo mythology.  The
female figures are remarkable; they all have the left hip turned out,
the right turned inwards.  The temple appears to be devoted to
the god Shiva.

In the neighbourhood of the large temple stands a smaller one, whose
walls are also covered with deities.  Both temples were much injured
by the Portuguese, who, when they conquered the island, in their noble
religious zeal planted cannon before them, in order to destroy the shocking
Pagan temples; in which attempt they succeeded much better than in the
conversion of the Pagans.  Several columns are quite in ruins;
nearly all are more or less damaged, and the ground is covered with
fragments.  None of either the gods or their attendants escaped
uninjured.

There is a most enchanting view across the sea of the extensive town,
and the delightful hills surrounding it, from the façade of the
large temple.  We passed a whole day here very agreeably. 
During the hot hours of noon, we amused ourselves by reading in the
cool shadows of the temple.  Herr Wattenbach had sent on several
servants previously; among others, the cook, together with tables, chairs,
provisions, books, and newspapers.  In my opinion, this was rather
superfluous; but what would my countrywomen have said could they have
seen the English family which we accidentally met with here; they carried
several couches, easy chairs, enormous foot-stools, a tent, etc., with
them.  That is what I call a simple country party!

Salsetta (also called Tiger Island) is united to Bombay by means
of a short artificial dam.  The distance from the fort to the village,
behind which the temples are situated, is eighteen miles, which we travelled,
with relays of horses, in three hours.  The roads were excellent,
the carriage rolled along as if on a floor.

The natural beauty of this island far exceeds that of Bombay. 
Not mere rows of hills, but magnificent mountain chains here raise their
heads, covered even to their summits with thick woods, from which bare
cliffs here and there project; the valleys are planted with rich fields
of corn, and slender green palms.

The island does not appear to be densely populated.  I saw only
a few villages and a single small town inhabited by Mahrattas, whose
appearance is as needy and dirty as those near Kundalla.

From the village where we left the carriage we had still three miles
to go to the temples.

The principal temple alone is in the style of a chaitza; but it is
surrounded by an uncommonly high porch, at both extremities of which
idols one-and-twenty feet high stand in niches.  Adjoining to the
right is a second temple, which contains several priests’ cells,
allegorical figures of deities, and reliefs.  Besides these two,
there are innumerable other smaller ones in the rocks, which extend
on both sides from the principal temple; I was told there were more
than a hundred.  They are all viharas with the exception of the
principal temple; the greater number, however, are scarcely larger than
ordinary small chambers, and are destitute of any peculiarity.

The rock temples of Elephanta and Salsetta rank, in respect to magnitude,
grandeur, and art, far below those of Adjunta and Elora, and are of
interest only to those who have not seen the latter.

It is said that the temples at Salsetta are not much visited, because
there is considerable danger attending it; the country is represented
to be full of tigers, and so many wild bees are said to swarm round
the temples that it is impossible to enter them; and moreover the robbers,
which are known by the name of bheels, live all round here.  We
fortunately met with none of these misfortunes.  Later, indeed,
I wandered about here alone.  I was not satisfied with a single
sight, and left my friends privately while they were taking their noon
rest, and clambered from rock to rock as far as the most remote temple. 
In one I found the skin and horns of a goat that had been devoured,
which sight somewhat frightened me; but trusting to the unsociability
of the tiger, who will rather fly from a man in broad day than seek
him out, I continued my ramble.  We had, as I have said, no danger
to resist; it was different with two gentlemen who, some days later,
nearly fell victims, not indeed to wild beasts, but to wild bees. 
One of them knocked upon an opening in the side of the rock, when an
immense swarm of bees rushed out upon them, and it was only by the greatest
exertion that they escaped, miserably stung on the head, face, and hands. 
This occurrence was published in the newspapers as a warning for others.

The climate of Bombay is healthier than that of Calcutta; even the
heat is more tolerable on account of the continual sea-breezes, although
Bombay lies five degrees further south.  The mosquitoes here, as
in all hot countries, are very tormenting.  A centipede slipped
into my bed one evening, but I fortunately discovered it in time.

I had already decided upon taking my passage in an Arabian boat,
which was to leave for Bassora on the 2nd of April, when Herr Wattenbach
brought the news that on the 10th a small steamer would make its first
voyage to Bassora.  This afforded me great pleasure—I did
not suspect that it would happen with a steamer as with a sailing vessel,
whose departure is postponed from day to day; nevertheless, we did not
leave the harbour of Bombay until the 23rd of April.

CHAPTER XVII.  FROM BOMBAY TO BAGHDAD.

DEPARTURE FROM BOMBAY—SMALL-POX—MUSCAT—BANDR-ABAS—THE
PERSIANS—THE KISHMA STRAITS—BUSCHIR—ENTRANCE INTO
THE SCHATEL-ARAB—BASSORA—ENTRANCE INTO THE TIGRIS—BEDOUIN
TRIBES—CTESIPHON AND SELEUCIA—ARRIVAL AT BAGHDAD.

The steamer “Sir Charles Forbes” (forty horse-power,
Captain Lichfield) had only two cabins, a small and a large one. 
The former had already been engaged for some time by an Englishman,
Mr. Ross; the latter was bespoken by some rich Persians for their wives
and children.  I was, therefore, obliged to content myself with
a place upon deck; however, I took my meals at the captain’s table,
who showed me the most extreme attention and kindness during the whole
voyage.

The little vessel was, in the fullest sense of the word, overloaded
with people; the crew alone numbered forty-five; in addition to that
there were 124 passengers, chiefly Persians, Mahomedans, and Arabs. 
Mr. Ross and myself were the only Europeans.  When this crowd of
persons were collected, there was not the smallest clear space on the
deck; to get from one place to another it was necessary to climb over
innumerable chests and boxes, and at the same time to use great caution
not to tread upon the heads or feet of the people.

In such critical circumstances I looked about immediately to see
where I could possibly secure a good place.  I found what I sought,
and was the most fortunate of all the passengers, more so than even
Mr. Ross, who could not sleep any night in his cabin on account of the
heat and insects.  My eye fell upon the under part of the captain’s
dinner-table, which was fixed upon the stern deck; I took possession
of this place, threw my mantle round me, so that I had a pretty secure
position, and no cause to fear that I should have my hands, feet, or
indeed my head trodden upon.

I was somewhat unwell when I left Bombay, and on the second day of
the voyage a slight attack of bilious fever came on.  I had to
contend with this for five days.  I crept painfully from my asylum
at meal times to make way for the feet of the people at table. 
I did not take any medicine (I carried none with me), but trusted to
Providence and my good constitution.

A much more dangerous malady than mine was discovered on board on
the third day of the voyage.  The small-pox was in the large cabin. 
Eighteen women and seven children were crammed in there.  They
had much less room than the negroes in a slave-ship; the air was in
the highest degree infected, and they were not allowed to go on the
deck, filled as it was with men; even we deck passengers were in great
anxiety lest the bad air might spread itself over the whole ship through
the opened windows.  The disease had already broken out on the
children before they were brought on board; but no one could suspect
it, as the women came late at night, thickly veiled, and enveloped in
large mantles, under which they carried the children.  It was only
on the third day, when one of the children died, that we discovered
our danger.

The child was wrapped in a white cloth, fastened upon a plank, which
was weighted by some pieces of coal or stone, and lowered into the sea. 
At the moment that it touched the water, the waves closed over it, and
it was lost to our sight.

I do not know whether a relation was present at this sad event; I
saw no tears flow.  The poor mother might, indeed, have sorrowed,
but she dare not accompany her child; custom forbade it.

Two more deaths occurred, the other invalids recovered, and the contagion
happily did not spread any further.

30th April.  Today we approached very near to the Arabian coast,
where we saw a chain of mountains which were barren and by no means
attractive.  On the following morning (1st of May) small forts
and watch-towers made their appearance, here and there, upon the peaks
of beautiful groups of rock, and presently, also, a large one was perceptible
upon an extensive mountain at the entrance of a creek.

We came to anchor off the town of Muscat, which lies at the extremity
of the creek.  This town, which is subject to an Arabian prince,
is very strongly fortified, and surrounded by several ranges of extraordinarily
formed rocks, all of which are also occupied by forts and towers. 
The largest of these excites a sad reminiscence: it was formerly a cloister
of Portuguese monks, and was attacked by the Arabs one night, who murdered
the whole of its inmates.  This occurrence took place about two
centuries since.

The houses of the town are built of stone, with small windows and
terraced roofs.  Two houses, distinguished from the others only
by their larger dimensions, are the palaces of the mother of the reigning
prince, and of the sheikh (governor).  Some of the streets are
so narrow that two persons can scarcely walk together.  The bazaar,
according to the Turkish custom, consists of covered passages, under
which the merchants sit cross-legged before their miserable stalls.

In the rocky valley in which Muscat lies the heat is very oppressive
(124° Fah. in the sun), and the sunlight is very injurious to the
eyes, as it is not in the slightest degree softened by any vegetation. 
Far and wide there are no trees, no shrubs or grass to be seen. 
Every one who is in any way engaged here, go as soon as their business
is finished to their country-houses situated by the open sea. 
There are no Europeans here; the climate is considered fatal to them.

At the back of the town lies a long rocky valley, in which is a village
containing several burial-places, and, wonderful to say, a little garden
with six palms, a fig, and a pomegranate-tree.  The village is
larger and more populous than the town; containing 6,000 inhabitants,
while the latter has only 4,000.  It is impossible to form any
conception of the poverty, filth, and stench in this village; the huts
stand nearly one over the other, are very small, and built only of reeds
and palm-leaves; every kind of refuse was thrown before the doors. 
It requires considerable self-denial to pass through such a place, and
I wonder that plague, or some other contagion, does not continually
rage there.  Diseases of the eyes and blindness are, however, very
frequent.

From this valley I passed into a second, which contains the greatest
curiosity of Muscat, a rather extensive garden, which, with its date-palms,
flowers, vegetables, and plantations, constitutes a true picture of
an oasis in the desert.  The vegetation is only kept up, for the
most part, by continual watering.  The garden belongs to the Arabian
prince.  My guide seemed to be very proud of this wonderful garden,
and asked me whether there were such beautiful gardens in my country!

The women in Muscat wear a kind of mask of blue stuff over the face,
fastened upon springs or wires, which project some distance beyond the
face; a hole is cut in the mask between the forehead and nose, which
allows something more than the eyes to be seen.  These masks are
worn by the women only when they are at some distance from home; in
and near their houses they are not used.  All the women that I
saw were very ugly; the men, also, had not the fine, proud features
which are so frequently met with among the Arabians.  Great numbers
of negroes are employed here as slaves.

I made this excursion at the time of the greatest heat (124°
Fah. in the sun), and rather weakened by my illness, but did not experience
the slightest ill consequences.  I had been repeatedly warned that
in warm countries the heat of the sun was very injurious to Europeans
who were not accustomed to it, and frequently caused fever and sometimes
even sun-stroke.  If I had attended to every advice, I should not
have seen much.  I did not allow myself to be led astray—went
out in all weathers, and always saw more than my companions in travel.

On the 2nd of May we again set sail, and on the 3rd of May entered
the Persian Sea, and passed very near to the island of Ormus. 
The mountains there are remarkable for a variegated play of colours;
many spots shine as if they were covered with snow.  They contain
large quantities of salt, and numbers of caravans come annually from
Persia and Arabia to procure it.  In the evening we reached the
small Persian town of Bandr-Abas, off which we anchored.

May 4th.  The town is situated on low hills of sand and rocks,
which are separated from higher mountains by a small plain.  Here
also the whole country is barren and wild; solitary groups of palms
are found only in the plains.

I looked wistfully towards the land,—I would gladly have visited
Persia.  The captain, however, advised me not to do so in the dress
I wore; because, as he informed me, the Persians were not so good-natured
as the Hindoos, and the appearance of a European woman in this remote
district was too uncommon an event; I might probably be greeted with
a shower of stones.

Fortunately there was a young man on board who was half English and
half Persian (his father, an Englishman, had married an Armenian from
Teheran), and spoke both languages equally well.  I asked him to
take me on shore, which he very readily did.  He conducted me to
the bazaar, and through several streets.  The people indeed flocked
from all sides and gazed at me, but did not offer me the slightest annoyance.

The houses here are small, and built in the Oriental style, with
few windows, and terraced roofs.  The streets are narrow, dirty,
and seemingly uninhabited; the bazaar only appeared busy.  The
bakers here prepare their bread in the most simple manner, and, indeed,
immediately in the presence of their customers: they knead some meal
with water into a dough, in a wooden dish, separate this into small
pieces, which they squeeze and draw out with their hands, until they
are formed into large thin flakes, which are smeared over with salt
water, and stuck into the inner side of a round tube.  These tubes
are made of clay, are about eighteen inches in diameter, and twenty-two
in length; they are sunk one half in the ground, and furnished with
an air-draft below.  Wood-charcoal is burnt inside the tube at
the bottom.  The cakes are baked on both sides at once; at the
back by the red-hot tube, and in front by the charcoal fire.  I
had half-a-dozen of such cakes baked—when eaten warm, they are
very good.

It is easy to distinguish the Persians from the Arabs, of whom there
are many here.  The former are larger, and more strongly built;
their skin is whiter, their features coarse and powerful, and their
general appearance rude and wild.  Their dress resembles that of
the Mahomedans.  Many wear turbans, others a conical cap of black
Astrachan, from a foot to one and a half high.

I was told of so great an act of gratitude of the young man, Mr.
William Hebworth, who accompanied me to Bandr-Abas, that I cannot omit
to mention it.  At the age of sixteen he went from Persia to Bombay,
where he met with the kindest reception in the house of a friend of
his father’s, by whom he was assisted in every way, and even obtained
an appointment through his interest.  One day his patron, who was
married, and the father of four children, had the misfortune to be thrown
from his horse, and died from the effects of the fall.  Mr. Hebworth
made the truly noble resolve of marrying the widow, who was much older
than himself, and, instead of property, possessed only her four children,
that he might in this way pay the debt of gratitude which he owed to
his deceased benefactor.

In Bandr-Abas we hired a pilot to take us through the Straits of
Kishma.  About noon we sailed.

The passage through these straits is without danger for steamers,
but is avoided by sailing vessels, as the space between the island Kishma
and the mainland is in parts very narrow, and the ships might be driven
on to the shore by contrary winds.

The inland forms an extended plain, and is partially covered with
thin underwood.  Great numbers of people come from the neighbouring
mainland to fetch wood from here.

The captain had spoken very highly of the remarkable beauty of this
voyage, the luxuriance of the island, the spots where the sea was so
narrow that the tops of the palms growing on the island and mainland
touched each other, etc.  Since the last voyage of the good captain,
a very unfrequent phenomenon would seem to have taken place—the
lofty slender palms were transformed into miserable underwood, and,
at the narrowest point, the mainland was at least half a mile from the
island.  Strange to say, Mr. Ross afterwards gave the same description
of the place; he believed the captain in preference to his own eyes.

At one of the most considerable contractions stands the handsome
fort Luft.  Fifteen years since the principal stronghold of the
Persian pirates was in this neighbourhood.  A severe battle was
fought between them and the English, near Luft, in which upwards of
800 were killed, many taken prisoners, and the whole gang broken up. 
Since that event, perfect security has been restored.

5th May.  We left the straits, and three days later came to
anchor off Buschir.

There are considerable quantities of sea-weeds and molluscæ
in the Persian Gulf; the latter had many fibres, were of a milk-white
colour, and resembled a forest agaric in form; others had a glistening
rose colour with small yellow spots.  Conger eels of two or three
feet in length were not uncommon.

8th May.  The town of Buschir is situated on a plain six miles
from the mountains, whose highest peak, called by the Persians Hormutsch,
by the English Halala, is 5,000 feet high.

The town contains 15,000 inhabitants, and has the best harbour in
Persia; but its appearance is very dirty and ugly.

The houses stand quite close together, so that it is easy to pass
from one to the other over the terraces, and it requires no great exertion
to run over the roofs, as the terraces are enclosed only by walls one
or two feet high.  Upon some houses, square chambers (called wind-catchers),
fifteen or twenty feet high, are erected, which can be opened above
and at the sides, and serve to intercept the wind and lead it into the
apartments.

The women here cover up their faces to such a degree that I cannot
imagine how they find their way about.  Even the smallest girls
imitate this foolish custom.  There is also no lack of nose-rings,
bracelets, sandals, etc.; but they do not wear nearly so many as the
Hindoos.  The men are all armed; even in the house they carry daggers
or knives, and besides these, pistols in the streets.

We remained two days in Buschir, where I was very well received by
Lieutenant Hennelt, the resident.

I would gladly have left the ship here to visit the ruins of Persepolis,
and travel by land from thence to Shiraz, Ispahan, Teheran, and so onwards;
but serious disturbances had broken out in these districts, and numerous
hordes of robbers carried on their depredations.  I was in consequence
compelled to alter my plan, and to go straight on to Baghdad.

10th May.  In the afternoon we left Buschir.

11th May.  Today I had the gratification of seeing and sailing
on one of the most celebrated rivers in the world, the Schatel-Arab
(river of the Arabs), which is formed by the junction of the Euphrates,
Tigris, and Kaurun, and whose mouth resembles an arm of the sea. 
The Schatel-Arab retains its name as far as the delta of the Tigris
and Euphrates.

12th May.  We left the sea and the mountains behind at the same
time, and on both shores immense plains opened before us whose boundaries
were lost in the distance.

Twenty miles below Bassora we turned off into the Kaurun to set down
some passengers at the little town of Mahambrah, which lies near the
entrance of that river.  We immediately turned back again, and
the captain brought the vessel round in the narrow space in an exceedingly
clever way.  This proceeding caused the uninitiated some anxiety;
we expected every moment to see either the head or stern run a-ground,
but it succeeded well beyond all measure.  The whole population
of the town was assembled on the shore; they had never before seen a
steamer, and took the most lively interest in the bold and hazardous
enterprise.

About six years ago, the town Mahambrah experienced a terrible catastrophe;
it was at that time under Turkish rule, and was surprised and plundered
by the Persians; nearly all the inhabitants, amounting to 5,000, were
put to death.  Since that period it has been retained by the Persians.

Towards noon we arrived at Bassora.  Nothing is visible from
the river but some fortified works and large forests of date-trees,
behind which the town is situated far inland.

The journey from Bombay to this place had occupied eighteen days,
in consequence of the unfavourable monsoon, and was one of the most
unpleasant voyages which I ever made.  Always upon deck in the
midst of a dense crowd of people, with a heat which at noon time rose
to 99° 5’ Fah., even under the shade of a tent.  I was
only once able to change my linen and dress at Buschir, which was the
more annoying as one could not prevent the accumulation of vermin. 
I longed for a refreshing and purifying bath.

Bassora, one of the largest towns of Mesopotamia, has among its inhabitants
only a single European.  I had a letter to the English agent, an
Armenian named Barseige, whose hospitality I was compelled to claim,
as there was no hotel.  Captain Lichfield presented my letter to
him and made known my request, but the polite man refused to grant it. 
The good captain offered me accommodation on board his ship, so that
I was provided for for the present.

The landing of the Persian women presented a most laughable spectacle:
if they had been beauties of the highest order, or princesses from the
sultan’s harem, there could not have been more care taken to conceal
them from the possibility of being seen by men.

I was indebted to my sex for the few glimpses which I caught of them
in the cabin; but among the whole eighteen women I did not see a single
good-looking one.  Their husbands placed themselves in two rows
from the cabin to the ship’s ladder, holding large cloths stretched
before them, and forming in this way a kind of opaque moveable wall
on both sides.  Presently the women came out of the cabin; they
were so covered with large wrappers that they had to be led as if they
were blind.  They stood close together between the walls, and waited
until the whole were assembled, when the entire party, namely, the moveable
wall and the beauties concealed behind it, proceeded step by step. 
The scrambling over the narrow ship’s ladders was truly pitiable;
first one stumbled, and then another.  The landing occupied more
than an hour.

13th May.  The captain brought me word that a German missionary
was accidentally at Bassora, who had a dwelling with several rooms,
and could probably give me shelter.  I went to him immediately,
and he was so obliging as to provide me with a room in which, at the
same time, I found a fireplace.  I took leave of the good captain
with sincere regret.  I shall never forget his friendliness and
attentions.  He was a truly good-hearted man, and yet the unfortunate
crew, mostly Hindoos and negroes, were treated worse on board his ship
than I had observed elsewhere.  This was the fault of the two mates,
who accompanied nearly every word with pushes and blows of the fist. 
In Muscat three of the poor fellows ran away.

The Christian Europeans excel the pagan Hindoos and Musselmen in
learning and science; might they not also at least equal the latter
in kindness and humanity?

A small English war-steamer was expected at Bassora in the course
of a few days, which carried letters and dispatches between this place
and Baghdad, and whose captain was so good as to take European travellers
(of whom there are not many that lose themselves here) with him.

I availed myself of the few days of my stay to look about the town,
and see what still remains of its ancient celebrity.

Bassora, or Bassra, was founded in the reign of the Caliph Omar,
in the year 656.  Sometimes under Turkish, sometimes under Persian
dominion, it was at last permanently placed under the latter power. 
There are no vestiges of antiquity remaining; neither ruins of handsome
mosques nor caravansaries.  The fortified walls are much dilapidated,
the houses of the town small and unattractive, the streets crooked,
narrow, and dirty.  The bazaar, which consists of covered galleries
with wretched stalls, cannot show a single good stock of goods, although
Bassora is the principal emporium and trading port for the Indian wares
imported into Turkey.  There are several coffee-stalls and a second-rate
caravansary in the bazaar.  A large open space, not very remarkable
for cleanliness, serves in the day as a corn-market; and in the evening
several hundred guests are to be seen seated before a large coffee-stall,
drinking coffee and smoking nargillies.

Modern ruins are abundant in Bassora, the result of the plague which
in the year 1832 carried off nearly one half of the inhabitants. 
Numbers of streets and squares consist only of forsaken and decaying
houses.  Where, a few years back, men were busily engaged in trade,
there is now nothing left but ruins and rubbish and weeds, and palms
grow between crumbling walls.

The position of Bassora is said to be particularly unhealthy: the
plain surrounding it is intersected at one extremity with numerous ditches
filled with mud and filth, which give off noxious exhalations, at the
other it is covered with forests of date trees, which hinders the current
of air.  The heat is so great here, that nearly every house is
furnished with an apartment, which lies several feet below the level
of the street, and has windows only in the high arches.  People
live in these rooms during the day.

The inhabitants consist for the most part of Arabs; the rest are
Persians, Turks, and Armenians.  There are no Europeans. 
I was advised to wrap myself in a large cloth and wear a veil when I
went out; the former I did, but I could not endure the veil in the excessive
heat, and went with my face uncovered.  The cloth (isar) I carried
so clumsily that my European clothes were always visible; nevertheless
I was not annoyed by any one.

On the 16th of May, the steamer Nitocris arrived.  It was small
(forty horse power), but very handsome and clean; the captain, Mr. Johns,
declared himself ready to take me, and the first officer, Mr. Holland,
gave up his cabin to me.  They would not take any compensation
either for passage or board.

The journey from Bassora to Baghdad would have been very fatiguing
and inconvenient if I had not met with this opportunity.  With
a boat it would have required forty or fifty days, as the distance is
500 English miles, and the boat must have been for greater part of the
distance drawn by men.  The distance by land amounts to 390 miles;
but the road is through deserts, which are inhabited by nomadic tribes
of Bedouins, and over-run with hordes of robbers, whose protection must
be purchased at a high price.

17th May.  We weighed anchor in the morning at 11 o’clock,
and availed ourselves of the current which extends 120 miles up the
stream.

In the afternoon we reached the point Korne, also called the Delta
(fifty miles from Bassora).  The Tigris and Euphrates join here. 
Both rivers are equally large, and as it could not, probably, be decided
which name should be retained, both were given up, and that of Schatel-Arab
adopted.

Many learned writers attempt to give increased importance to this
place, by endeavouring to prove by indubitable evidence that the garden
of Eden was situated here.  If this was the case, our worthy progenitor
made a long journey after he was driven out of Paradise, to reach Adam’s
Peak in Ceylon.

We now entered the Tigris.  For a distance of three miles further,
we were gratified by the sight of beautiful forests of date-trees, which
we had already enjoyed, almost without intermission, from the mouth
of the Schatel-Arab; they now suddenly terminated.  Both sides
of the river were still covered with a rich vegetation, and beautiful
orchards, alternated with extended plots of grass, which were partially
covered with bushes or shrub-like trees.  This fruitfulness, however,
is said to extend only a few miles inland: more distant from the river
the country is a barren wilderness.

We saw in several places large tribes of Bedouins, who had pitched
their tents in long rows, for the most part close to the banks. 
Some of these hordes had large closely-covered tents; others again had
merely a straw mat, a cloth, or some skins stretched on a pair of poles,
scarcely protecting the heads of those lying under them from the burning
rays of the sun.  In winter, when the temperature frequently falls
to freezing point, they have the same dwellings and clothing as in summer:
the mortality among them is then very great.  These people have
a wild appearance, and their clothing consists of only a dark-brown
mantle.  The men have a part of this drawn between the legs, and
another part hung round them; the women completely envelop themselves
in it; the children very commonly go quite naked until the twelfth year. 
The colour of their skin is a dark brown, the face slightly tattooed:
both the men and women braid their hair into four plaits, which hang
down upon the back of the head and temples.  The weapons of the
men are stout knotted sticks; the women are fond of adorning themselves
with glass beads, mussel-shells, and coloured rags; they also wear large
nose-rings.

They are all divided into tribes, and are under the dominion of the
Porte, to whom they pay tribute; but they acknowledge allegiance only
to the sheikh elected by themselves, many of whom have forty or fifty
thousand tents under their control.  Those tribes who cultivate
land have fixed dwellings; the pastoral tribes are nomadic.

Half-way between Bassora and Baghdad, the lofty mountain chain of
Luristan becomes visible.  When the atmosphere is clear, the summits,
10,000 feet high, and covered with perpetual snow, may be seen.

Every step in advance leads to the scene of the great deeds of Cambyses,
Cyrus, Alexander, etc.: every spot of ground has historical associations. 
The country is the same; but what has become of its towns and its powerful
empires?  Ruined walls and heaps of earth and rubbish are the only
remains of the most beautiful cities; and where firmly established empires
formerly existed, are barren steppes overrun by robber hordes.

The Arabs engaged in agriculture are themselves exposed to the depredations
of their nomadic countrymen, especially in harvest time.  In order
to avoid this evil as much as possible, they bring their crops into
small fortified places, of which I observed many between Bassora and
Baghdad.

We took in wood several times during the passage, and on these occasions
I could approach the inhabitants without fear, as they were inspired
with respect for the well-manned and armed vessel.  In one instance,
I was led far into the underwood in pursuit of some beautiful insects,
when I found myself on a sudden surrounded by a swarm of women and children,
so that I thought it advisable to hasten back again to the ship’s
people—not that any one offered me any violence; but they crowded
round me, handled my dress, wanted to put on my straw bonnet; and this
familiarity was far from pleasant on account of their extreme dirtiness. 
The children seemed shockingly neglected; many were covered with pimples
and small sores; and both great and small had their hands constantly
in their hair.

At the places where we stopped they generally brought sheep and butter,
both of which were singularly cheap.  A sheep cost at the utmost
five krans (4s. 6d.).  They were very large and fat, with long
thick wool, and fat tails of about fifteen inches long and eight inches
broad.  Our crew had a better diet than I had ever noticed on board
any ship.  What pleased me even more was the equal good treatment
of the natives, who were not in any particular less thought of than
the English.  I never met with greater order and cleanliness than
here—a proof that blows and thumps are not indispensably necessary,
as I had so often been assured.

In the districts where the ground was covered with underwood and
grass, I saw several herds of wild swine; and there were said to be
lions here, who come from the mountains, especially during the winter
time, when they carried off cows and sheep: they very seldom attacked
men.  I was so fortunate as to see a pair of lions, but at such
a distance, that I cannot say whether they exceeded in beauty and size
those in European menageries.  Among the birds, the pelicans were
so polite as to make their respects to us by scraping.

21st May.  Today we saw the ruins of the palace of Khuszew Anushirwan
at Ctesiphon.  Ctesiphon was formerly the capital of the Parthian,
and afterwards of the new Persian empire: it was destroyed by the Arabs
in the seventeenth century.  Nearly opposite, on the right bank
of the Tigris, lay Seleucia, one of the most celebrated towns of Babylon,
and which, at the time of its prosperity, had a free independent government
and a population of 600,000 souls.  The chief portion were Greeks.

One obtained two views of Ctesiphon in passing, in consequence of
the river winding considerably—almost running back again several
miles.  I made a trip there from Baghdad, and therefore reserve
my account of it.

The old caliphate appears in marvellous magnificence and extent from
a distance, but unfortunately loses this on nearer approach.  The
minarets and cupolas, inlaid with variegated earthenware tiles, glitter
in the clear sunlight; palaces, gateways, and fortified works, in endless
succession, bound the yellow, muddy Tigris; and gardens, with date and
other fruit trees, cover the flat country for miles round.

We had scarcely anchored, when a number of natives surrounded the
ship.  They made use of very singular vehicles, which resemble
round baskets: these are formed of thick palm leaves, and covered with
asphalt.  They are called “guffer;” are six feet in
diameter and three feet in height; are very safe, for they never upset,
and may be travelled in over the worst roads.  Their invention
is very ancient.

I had a letter to the English resident, Major Rawlinson; but as Mr.
Holland, the first officer of the ship, offered me the use of his house,
I took advantage of this, on account of his being a married man, which
Mr. Rawlinson was not.  I found Mrs. Holland a very pretty, amiable
woman (a native of Baghdad), who, though only three-and-twenty, had
already four children, the eldest of whom was eight years old.

CHAPTER XVIII.  MESOPOTAMIA, BAGHDAD, AND BABYLON.

BAGHDAD—PRINCIPAL BUILDINGS—CLIMATE—ENTERTAINMENT
AT THE ENGLISH RESIDENT’S—HAREM OF THE PASCHA OF BAGHDAD—EXCURSION
TO THE RUINS OF CTESIPHON—THE PERSIAN PRINCE, IL-HANY-ALA-CULY-MIRZA—EXCURSION
TO THE RUINS OF BABYLON—DEPARTURR FROM BAGHDAD.

Baghdad, the capital of Assyria, was founded during the reign of
the Caliph Abu-Jasar-Almansor.  A century later, in the reign of
Haroun-al-Raschid, the best and most enlightened of all the caliphs,
the town was at its highest pitch of prosperity; but at the end of another
century, it was destroyed by the Turks.  In the sixteenth century
it was conquered by the Persians, and continued to be a perpetual source
of discord between them and the Turks, although it at length became
annexed to the Ottoman Empire.  Nadir Schah again endeavoured to
wrest it from the Turks in the eighteenth century.

The present population, of about 60,000 souls, consists of about
three-fourths Turks, and the remainder of Jews, Persians, Armenians,
and Arabs.  There are only fifty or sixty Europeans living there.

The town is partly situated on both sides of the Tigris, but chiefly
on the east.  It is surrounded by fortified walls of brick, with
numerous towers at regular intervals; both walls and towers, however,
are weak, and even somewhat dangerous, and the cannons upon them are
not in good condition.

The first thing that it was necessary for me to provide myself with
here, was a large linen wrapper, called isar, a small fez, and
a kerchief, which, wound round the fez, forms a little turban; but I
did not make use of the thick, stiff mask, made of horse-hair, which
covers the face, and under which the wearer is nearly suffocated. 
It is impossible to imagine a more inconvenient out-door dress for our
sex than the one worn here.  The isar gathers the dust from the
ground, and it requires some dexterity to hold it together in such a
way as to envelop the whole body.  I pitied the poor women greatly,
who were often obliged to carry a child, or some other load, or perhaps
even to wash linen in the river.  They never came from this work,
except dripping with water.  Even the smallest girls here are clothed
in this way whenever they go out.

In my Oriental dress I could walk about without any covering on my
face, perfectly uninterrupted.  I first examined the town, but
there was not much to see, as there are no remains of the old Caliphate
buildings.  The houses are of burnt bricks, and are only one story
high; the backs are all turned towards the streets, and it is but rarely
that a projecting part of the house is seen with narrow latticed windows. 
Those houses only whose façades are towards the Tigris make an
exception to this rule; they have ordinary windows, and are sometimes
very handsome.  I found the streets rather narrow, and full of
dirt and dust.  The bridge of boats over the Tigris, which is here
690 feet broad, is the most wretched that I ever saw.  The bazaars
are very extensive.  The old bazaar, a relic of the former town,
still shows traces of handsome columns and arabesques, and Chan Osman
is distinguished by its beautiful portal and lofty arches.  The
principal passages are so broad, that there is room for a horseman and
two foot passengers, to go through side by side.  The merchants
and artisans here, as in all eastern countries, live in separate streets
and passages.  The better shops are to be found in private houses,
or in the chans at the bazaars.  Miserable coffee-stalls are everywhere
numerous.

The palace of the pascha is an extensive building, but neither tasteful
nor costly; it is imposing only from a distance.  There are but
few mosques, and those present nothing costly or artistic, except the
inlaid tiles.

To be able to overlook the whole of Baghdad, I mounted, with great
difficulty, the exterior of the dome of the Osman Chan, and was truly
astounded at the extent and beautiful position of the town.  It
is impossible to form any idea of an Oriental town by passing through
the narrow and uniform streets, no matter how often, as these are all
alike, and, one with the other, resemble the passages of a jail. 
But, from above, I looked down over the whole town, with its innumerable
houses, many of which are situated in pretty gardens.  I saw thousands
and thousands of terraces spread at my feet, and before all, the beautiful
river, rolling on through dark orchards and palm groves, to the town,
which extends along its banks for five miles.

All the buildings are, as already remarked, constructed of unburnt
bricks, of which the greater part are stated to have been brought down
the Euphrates, from the ruins of the neighbouring city of Babylon. 
By a close examination, traces of the old architecture are to be found
on the fortifications; the bricks of which they are built are about
two feet in diameter, and resemble fine slabs of stone.

The houses are prettier inside than out; they have clean plastered
courts, numerous windows, etc.  The rooms are large and lofty,
but not nearly so magnificently furnished as those in Damascus. 
The summer is so hot here, that people find it necessary to change their
rooms three times a-day.  The early part of the morning is passed
in the ordinary rooms; towards 9 o’clock they retire, during the
remainder of the day, into the underground rooms, called sardab, which,
like cellars, are frequently situated fifteen or twenty feet below the
surface; at sunset they go up on to the terraces, where they receive
visits, gossip, drink tea, and remain until night.  This is the
most pleasant time, as the evenings are cool and enlivening.  Many
affirm the moonlight is clearer here than with us, but I did not find
this to be the case.  People sleep on the terraces under mosquito
nets, which surround the whole bed.  The heat rises in the rooms,
during the day, as high as 99°; in the sun, to 122° or 131°
Fah.; it seldom exceeds 88° 25’ in the sardabs.  In winter,
the evenings, nights, and mornings are so cold, that fires are necessary
in the rooms.

The climate of this place is considered very healthy, even by Europeans. 
Nevertheless, there is a disease here of which the young females are
terribly afraid, and which not only attacks the natives, but strangers,
when they remain several months here.  This is a disgusting eruption,
which is called the Aleppo Boil, or Date-mark.

This ulcer, which is at first no larger than a pin’s head,
gradually increases to the size of a halfcrown piece, and leaves deep
scars.  It generally breaks out on the face; there is scarcely
one face among a hundred, to be seen without these disfiguring marks. 
Those who have only one have reason to consider themselves fortunate;
I saw many with two or three of them.  Other parts of the body
are also not exempt.  The ulcers generally appear with the ripening
of the dates, and do not go away until the next year, when the same
season returns again.  This disease does not occur more than once
in a lifetime; it attacks children for the most part during their infancy. 
No remedy is ever applied, as experience has shown that it cannot be
prevented; the Europeans have tried inoculation, but without success.

This disease is met with in several districts on the Tigris; there
are no traces of it to be found at a distance from the river. 
It would appear, therefore, to be, in some way, connected with the evaporation
from the stream, or the mud deposited on its banks; the former seems
less probable, as the crews of the English steamers, which are always
on the river, escape, while all the Europeans who live on land fall
victims to it.  One of the latter had forty such boils, and I was
told that he suffered horribly.  The French consul, who expected
to remain here for several years, would not bring his wife with him,
to expose her face to the danger of these ineradicable marks. 
I had only been here some weeks, when I discovered slight indications
of a boil on my hand, which became large, but did not penetrate very
deep, and left no permanent scar.  I exulted greatly at escaping
so easily, but my exultation did not continue long; only six months
afterwards, when I had returned to Europe, this disease broke out with
such violence that I was covered with thirteen of those boils, and had
to contend with them more than eight months.

On the 24th of May I received an invitation from the English resident,
Major Rawlinson, to an entertainment in honour of the queen’s
birthday.  There were only Europeans present at dinner, but in
the evening, all denominations of the Christian world were admitted—Armenians,
Greeks, etc.  This entertainment was given upon the handsome terraces
of the house.  The floor was covered with soft carpets; cushioned
divans invited the fatigued to rest, and the brilliant illumination
of the terraces, courts, and gardens diffused a light almost equal to
that of day.  Refreshments of the most delicate kind made it difficult
for Europeans to remember that they were so far from their native country. 
Less deceptive were two bands of music, one of which played European,
the other native pieces, for the amusement of the guests.  Fire-works,
with balloons and Bengal lights, were followed by a sumptuous supper,
which closed the evening’s entertainments.  Among the women
and girls present, there were some remarkably beautiful, but all had
most bewitching eyes, which no young man could glance at with impunity. 
The art of dyeing the eyelids and eyebrows principally contributes to
this.  Every hair on the eyebrows which makes its appearance in
an improper place, is carefully plucked out, and those which are deficient
have their place most artistically supplied by the pencil.  The
most beautiful arched form is thus obtained, and this, together with
the dyeing of the eyelids, increases uncommonly the brightness of the
eye.  The desire for such artificial beauty extends itself even
to the commonest servant girls.

The fair sex were dressed in Turkish-Greek costume; they wore silk
trousers, gathered together round the ankles, and over these, long upper
garments, embroidered with gold, the arms of which were tight as far
as the elbow, and were then slit open, and hung down.  The bare
part of the arm was covered by silk sleeves.  Round their waists
were fastened stiff girdles of the breadth of the hand, ornamented in
front with large buttons, and at the sides with smaller ones. 
The buttons were of gold, and worked in enamel.  Mounted pearls,
precious stones, and gold coins, decorated the arms, neck, and breast. 
The head was covered with a small, pretty turban, wound round with gold
chains, or gold lace; numerous thin tresses of hair stole from underneath,
falling down to the hips.  Unfortunately, many of them had the
bad taste to dye their hair, by which its brilliant black was changed
into an ugly brown-red.

Beautiful as this group of women were in appearance, their society
was very uninteresting, for an unbroken silence was maintained by these
members of our garrulous sex, and not one of their pretty faces expressed
an emotion or sentiment.  Mind and education, the zests of life,
were wanting.  The native girls are taught nothing; their education
is completed when they are able to read in their mother tongue (Armenian
or Arabian), and then, with the exception of some religious books, they
have no other reading.

It was more lively at a visit which I made, some days later, to the
harem of the pasha; there was then so much chatting, laughing, and joking,
that it was almost too much for me.  My visit had been expected,
and the women, fifteen in number, were sumptuously dressed in the same
way that I have already described; with the single exception, that the
upper garment (kaftan) was shorter, and made of a more transparent material,
and the turbans ornamented with ostrich feathers.

I did not see any very handsome women here; they had only good eyes,
but neither noble nor expressive features.

The summer harem, in which I was received, was a pretty building,
in the most modern style of European architecture, with lofty, regular
windows.  It stood in the middle of a small flower-garden, which
was surrounded by a large fruit-garden.

After I had been here rather more than an hour, a table was laid,
and chairs placed round it.  The principal woman invited me to
join them, and leading the way, seated herself at the table, when, without
waiting till we were seated, she hastily picked out her favourite morsels
from the various dishes with her hands.  I was also compelled to
help myself with my hands, as there was no knife and fork in the whole
house, and it was only towards the end of the meal that a large gold
teaspoon was brought for me.

The table was profusely covered with excellent meat-dishes, with
different pilaus, and a quantity of sweet-meats and fruits.  I
found them all delicious, and one dish so much resembled our fritters,
that I almost thought it was meant for them.

After we had finished, those who had not room to sit down with us
took their seats together with some of the principal attendants: after
them came, in succession, the inferior slaves, among whom were some
very ugly negresses; these also seated themselves at the table, and
ate what remained.

After the conclusion of the meal, strong coffee was handed round
in small cups, and nargillies brought.  The cups stood in little
golden bowls, ornamented with pearls and turquoises.

The pasha’s women are distinguished from their attendants and
slaves only by their dress and jewellery; in demeanour I found no difference. 
The attendants seated themselves without hesitation upon the divans,
joined, uninvited, in the conversation, smoked, and drank coffee as
we did.  Servants and slaves are far better and more considerately
treated by the natives than by the Europeans.  Only the Turks hold
slaves here.

Although such strict decorum is observed in all public places, there
is an utter disregard of it in the harems and baths.  While a part
of the women were engaged in smoking and drinking coffee, I slipped
away, and went into some of the adjoining apartments, where I saw enough,
in a few minutes, to fill me with disgust and commiseration for these
poor creatures; from slothfulness and the want of education, morality
appeared to be so degraded as to profane the very name of humanity.

I was not less grieved by a visit to a public female bath. 
There were young children, girls, women, and mothers; some having their
hands, feet, nails, eyebrows, hair, etc., washed and coloured: others
were being bathed with water, or rubbed with fragrant oils and pomades,
while the children played about among them.  While all this was
going on, the conversation that prevailed was far from being remarkable
for its decency.  Poor children! how are they to acquire a respect
for modesty, when they are so early exposed to the influence of such
pernicious examples.

Among the other curiosities of Baghdad, I saw the funeral monument
of Queen Zobiedé, the favourite wife of Haroun-al-Raschid. 
It is interesting, because it differs very much from the ordinary monuments
of the Mahomedans.  Instead of handsome cupolas and minarets, it
consists of a moderate sized tower, rising from an octagon building;
the tower has a considerable resemblance to those of the Hindoo temples. 
In the interior stand three plainly built tombs, in one of which the
queen is buried; in the other two, relations of the royal family. 
The whole is constructed of bricks, and was formerly covered with handsome
cement, coloured tiles, and arabesques, of which traces still remain.

Mahomedans consider all such monuments sacred; they frequently come
from great distances to offer up their devotions before them. 
They think it equally desirable to erect a burial-place near such a
monument, which they show with pride to their friends and relations. 
Round this monument there were large spaces covered with tombs.

On the return from this monument, I went a little out of my way to
see that part of the town which had fallen into ruins, and been desolated
by the last plague.  Herr Swoboda, an Hungarian, gave me a dreadful
picture of the state of the town at that time.  He had shut himself
closely up with his family and a maid servant, and being well furnished
with provisions, received nothing from outside but fresh water. 
He carefully plastered up the doors and windows, and no one was allowed
to go out upon the terraces, or, indeed, into the air at all.

These precautions were the means of preserving his whole family in
health, while many died in the neighbouring houses.  It was impossible
to bury all the dead, and the bodies were left to decompose where they
died.  After the plague had ceased, the Arabs of the desert made
their appearance for the purpose of robbing and plundering.  They
found an easy spoil, for they penetrated without resistance into the
empty houses, or without difficulty overpowered the few enfeebled people
who remained.  Herr Swoboda, among the rest, was obliged to make
an agreement with the Arabs, and pay tribute.

I was glad to leave this melancholy place, and directed my steps
towards some of the pleasant gardens, of which there are great numbers
in and round Baghdad.  None of these gardens, however, are artificial;
they consist simply of a thick wood of fruit-trees, of all species (dates,
apple, apricot, peach, fig, mulberry, and other trees), surrounded by
a brick wall.  There is, unfortunately, neither order nor cleanliness
observed, and there are neither grass plots nor beds of flowers, and
not a single good path; but there is a considerable number of canals,
as it is necessary to substitute artificial watering for rain and dew.

I made two long excursions from Baghdad; one to the ruins of Ctesiphon,
the other to those of Babylon.  The former are eighteen, the latter
sixty miles distant from Baghdad.  On both occasions, Major Rawlinson
provided me with good Arabian horses, and a trusty servant.

I was obliged to make the journey to Ctesiphon and back again in
one day, to avoid passing the night in the desert; and, indeed, had
to accomplish it between sunrise and sunset, as it is the custom in
Baghdad, as in all Turkish towns, to close the gates towards sunset,
and to give up the keys to the governor.  The gates are again opened
at sunrise.

My considerate hostess would have persuaded me to take a quantity
of provisions with me; but my rule in travelling is to exclude every
kind of superfluity.  Wherever I am certain to find people living,
I take no eatables with me, for I can content myself with whatever they
live upon; if I do not relish their food, it is a sign that I have not
any real hunger, and I then fast until it becomes so great that any
kind of dish is acceptable.  I took nothing with me but my leathern
water flask, and even this was unnecessary, as we frequently passed
creeks of the Tigris, and sometimes the river itself, although the greater
part of the road lay through the desert.

About half-way, we crossed the river Dhyalah in a large boat. 
On the other side of the stream, several families, who live in huts
on the bank, subsist by renting the ferry.  I was so fortunate
as to obtain here some bread and buttermilk, with which I refreshed
myself.  The ruins of Ctesiphon may already be seen from this place,
although they are still nine miles distant.  We reached them in
three hours and a half.

Ctesiphon formerly rose to be a very powerful city on the Tigris;
it succeeded Babylon and Seleucia; the Persian viceroys resided in the
summer at Ecbatania, in the winter at Ctesiphon.  The present remains
consist only of detached fragments of the palace of the Schah Chosroes. 
These are the colossal arched gate-porch, together with the gate, a
part of the principal front, and some side walls, all of which are so
strong that it is probable that travellers may still continue to be
gratified with a sight of them for centuries.  The arches of the
Tauk-kosra gate is the highest of the kind that is known; it measures
ninety feet, and is therefore about fifteen feet higher than the principal
gate at Fattipore-Sikri, near Agra, which is erroneously represented
by many as being the highest.  The wall rises sixteen feet above
the arch.

On the façade of the palace, small niches, arches, pillars,
etc., are hewn out from the top to bottom; the whole appears to be covered
with fine cement, in which the most beautiful arabesques are still to
be seen.  Opposite these ruins on the western shore of the Tigris,
lie a few remains of the walls of Seleucia, the capital of Macedonia.

On both banks, extensive circles of low mounds are visible in every
direction; these all contain, at a slight depth, bricks and rubbish.

Not far from the ruins stands a plain mosque, which holds the tomb
of Selamam Pak.  This man was a friend of Mahomet’s, and
is on that account honoured as a saint.  I was not allowed to enter
the mosque, and was obliged to content myself with looking in through
the open door.  I saw only a tomb built of bricks, surrounded by
a wooden lattice, painted green.

I had already observed a number of tents along the banks of the Tigris
on first reaching the ruins; my curiosity induced me to visit them,
where I found everything the same as among the desert Arabs, except
that the people were not so savage and rough; I could have passed both
day and night among them without apprehension.  This might be from
my having been accustomed to such scenes.

A much more agreeable visit was before me.  While I was amusing
myself among the dirty Arabs, a Persian approached, who pointed to a
pretty tent which was pitched at a short distance from us, and said
a few words to me.  My guide explained to me that a Persian prince
lived in this tent, and that he had politely invited me by this messenger. 
I accepted the invitation with great pleasure, and was received in a
very friendly manner by the prince, who was named Il-Hany-Ala-Culy-Mirza.

The prince was a handsome young man, and said that he understood
French; but we soon came to a stop with that, as his knowledge of it
did not extend beyond “Vous parlez Français!” 
Luckily, one of his people had a better acquaintance with English, and
so we were able to carry on some conversation.

The interpreter explained to me that the prince resided in Baghdad,
but on account of the oppressive heat, he had taken up his residence
here for some time.  He was seated upon a low divan under an open
tent, and his companions reclined upon carpets.  To my surprise,
he had sufficient politeness to offer me a seat by his side upon the
divan.  Our conversation soon became very animated, and his astonishment
when I related to him my travels increased with every word.  While
we were talking, a nargilly of most singular beauty was placed before
me; it was made of light-blue enamel on gold, ornamented with pearls,
turquoises, and precious stones.  For politeness’ sake, I
took a few puffs from it.  Tea and coffee were also served, and
afterwards the prince invited me to dinner.  A white cloth was
spread upon the ground, and flat cakes of bread, instead of plates,
laid upon it: an exception was made for me, as I had a plate and knife
and fork.  The dinner consisted of a number of dishes of meat,
among which was a whole lamb with the head, which did appear very inviting;
besides these, several pilaus, and a large roast fish.  Between
the eatables stood bowls of curds and whey, and sherbet: in each bowl
was a large spoon.  The lamb was carved by a servant with a knife
and the hand; he distributed the parts among the guests, placing a piece
upon the cake of bread before each one.  They ate with their right
hand.  Most of them tore off small morsels of meat or fish, dipped
them in one of the pilaus, kneaded them into a ball, and put them into
their mouths.  Some, however, ate the fat dishes without pilau;
after each mouthful they wiped off the fat, which ran over their fingers,
on the bread.  They drank a great deal while eating, all using
the same spoons.  At the conclusion of the meal, the prince, in
spite of the strict prohibition of wine, ordered some to be brought
(my presence serving as an excuse).  He then poured out a glass
for me, and drank a couple himself—one to my health and one to
his own.

When I told him that I intended to go to Persia, and in particular
to Teheran, he offered to give me a letter to his mother, who was at
court, and under whose protection I could be introduced there. 
He wrote immediately, using his knee for want of a table, pressed his
signet ring upon the letter, and gave it to me; but told me laughingly
not to say anything to his mother about his having drank wine.

After meal time, I asked the prince whether he would allow me to
pay a visit to his wife,—I had already learned that one of his
wives was with him.  My request was granted, and I was led immediately
into a building, near which had formerly been a small mosque.

I was here received in a cool arched apartment by a remarkably handsome
young creature.  She was the most beautiful of all the women I
had ever yet seen in harems.  Her figure, of middling proportions,
was most exquisitely symmetrical; her features were noble and truly
classical; and her large eyes had a melancholy expression: the poor
thing was alone here, and had no society but an old female servant and
a young gazelle.  Her complexion, probably not quite natural, was
of dazzling whiteness, and a delicate red tinted her cheeks.  The
eyebrows only, in my opinion, were very much deformed by art. 
They were in the form of a dark-blue streak, an inch wide, which extended
in two connected curves from one temple to the other, and gave the face
a somewhat dark and very uncommon appearance.  The principal hairs
were not dyed; her hands and arms, however, were slightly tattooed. 
She explained to me that this shocking operation was performed upon
her when she was only a child, a custom which is also practised by the
Mahomedan women in Baghdad.

The dress of this beauty was like that of the women in the pasha’s
harem, but instead of the small turban, she wore a white muslin cloth
lightly twisted round the head, which she could also draw over her face
as a veil.

Our conversation was not very lively, as the interpreter was not
allowed to follow me into this sanctum.  We were therefore obliged
to content ourselves with making signs and looking at one another.

When I returned to the prince, I expressed to him my wonder at the
rare beauty of his young wife, and asked him what country was the cradle
of this true angel.  He told me the north of Persia, and assured
me, at the same time, that his other wives, of whom he had four in Baghdad
and four in Teheran with his mother, very much excelled this one in
beauty.

When I would have taken my leave of the prince to return home, he
proposed to me that I should remain a little while longer and hear some
Persian music.  Two minstrels presently appeared, one of whom had
a kind of mandolin with five strings; the other was a singer. 
The musician preluded very well, played European as well as Persian
melodies, and handled his instrument with great facility; the singer
executed roulades, and, unfortunately, his voice was neither cultivated
nor pure; but he seldom gave false notes, and they both kept good time. 
The Persian music and songs had considerable range of notes and variations
in the melody; I had not heard anything like them for a long time.

I reached home safely before sunset, and did not feel very much fatigued,
either by the ride of thirty-six miles, the terrible heat, or the wandering
about on foot.  Only two days afterwards, I set out on my road
to the ruins of the city of Babylon.  The district in which these
ruins lie is called Isak-Arabia, and is the seat of the ancient Babylonia
and Chaldea.

I rode, the same evening, twenty miles, as far as the Chan Assad. 
The palms and fruit-trees gradually decreased in number, the cultivated
ground grew less and less, and the desert spread itself before me, deadening
all pleasure and animation.  Here and there grew some low herbage
scarcely sufficient for the frugal camel; even this ceases a few miles
before coming to Assad, and from thence to Hilla the desert appeared
uninterruptedly in its sad and uniform nakedness.

We passed the place where the town of Borossippa formerly stood,
and where it is said that a pillar of Nourhwan’s palace is yet
to be seen; but I could not discover it anywhere, although the whole
desert lay open before me and a bright sunset afforded abundance of
light.  I therefore contented myself with the place, and did not,
on that account, remember with less enthusiasm the great Alexander,
here at the last scene of his actions, when he was warned not to enter
Babylon again.  Instead of the pillar, I saw the ruins of one large
and several smaller canals.  The large one formerly united the
Euphrates with the Tigris, and the whole served for irrigating the land.

31st May.  I had never seen such numerous herds of camels as
I did today; there might possibly have been more than 7,000 or 8,000. 
As most of them were unloaded and carried only a few tents, or women
and children, it was probably the wandering of a tribe in search of
a more fruitful dwelling-place.  Among this enormous number, I
saw only a few camels that were completely white.  These are very
highly prized by the Arabians; indeed, almost honoured as superior beings. 
When I first saw the immense herd of these long-legged animals appearing
in the distant horizon, they looked like groups of small trees; and
I felt agreeably surprised to meet with vegetation in this endless wilderness. 
But the wood, like that in Shakspere’s Macbeth, shortly advanced
towards us, and the stems changed into legs and the crowns into bodies.

I also observed a species of bird today to which I was a complete
stranger.  It resembled, in colour and size, the small green papagien,
called paroquets, except that its beak was rather less crooked and thick. 
It lives, like the earth-mouse, in small holes in the ground. 
I saw flocks of them at two of the most barren places in the desert,
where there was no trace of a blade of grass to be discovered, far and
wide.

Towards 10 o’clock in the morning, we halted for two hours
only at Chan Nasri, as I was resolved to reach Hilla today.  The
heat rose above 134° Fah.; but a hot wind, that continually accompanied
us, was still more unbearable, and drove whole clouds of hot sand into
the face.  We frequently passed half-ruined canals during the day.

The chans upon this road are among the best and the most secure that
I have ever met with.  From the exterior, they resemble small fortresses;
a high gateway leads into a large court-yard, which is surrounded on
all sides by broad, handsome halls built with thick brick walls. 
In the halls, there are niches arranged in rows; each one being large
enough to serve three or four persons as a resting-place.  Before
the niches, but also under the halls, are the places for the cattle. 
In the court-yard, a terrace is also built five feet high for sleeping
in the hot summer nights.  There are likewise a number of rings
and posts for the cattle in the court, where they can be in the open
air during the night.

These chans are adapted for whole caravans, and will contain as many
as 500 travellers, together with animals and baggage; they are erected
by the government, but more frequently by wealthy people, who hope by
such means to procure a place in heaven.  Ten or twelve soldiers
are appointed to each chan as a guard.  The gates are closed in
the evening.  Travellers do not pay anything for staying at these
places.

Some Arabian families generally live outside the chans, or even in
them, and they supply the place of host, and furnish travellers with
camel’s milk, bread, coffee, and sometimes, also, with camel’s
or goat’s flesh.  I found the camel’s milk rather disagreeable,
but the flesh is so good that I thought it had been cow-beef, and was
greatly surprised when my guide told me that it was not.

When travellers are furnished with a pasha’s firman (letter
of recommendation), they can procure one or more mounted soldiers (all
the soldiers at the chans have horses) to accompany them through dangerous
places, and at times of disturbances.  I had such a firman, and
made use of it at night.

In the afternoon we approached the town of Hilla, which now occupies
a part of the space where Babylon formerly stood.  Beautiful woods
of date-trees indicated from afar the inhabited country, but intercepted
our view of the town.

Four miles from Hilla we turned off the road to the right, and shortly
found ourselves between enormous mounds of fallen walls and heaps of
bricks.  The Arabs call these ruins Mujellibe.  The largest
of these mounds of bricks and rubbish is 2,110 feet in circumference,
and 141 feet in height.

Babylon, as is known, was one of the greatest cities of the world. 
With respect to its founder there are various opinions.  Some say
Ninus, others Belus, others Semiramis, etc.  It is said that, at
the building of the city (about 2,000 years before the birth of Christ),
two million of workmen, and all the architects and artificers of the
then enormous Syrian empire, were employed.  The city walls are
described as having been 150 feet high, and twenty feet thick. 
The city was defended by 250 towers; it was closed by a hundred brazen
gates, and its circumference was sixty miles.  It was separated
into two parts by the Euphrates.  On each bank stood a beautiful
palace, and the two were united by an artistic bridge, and even a tunnel
was constructed by the Queen Semiramis.  But the greatest curiosities
were the temples of Belus and the hanging gardens.  The tower of
the temple was ornamented with three colossal figures, made of pure
gold, and representing gods.  The hanging gardens (one of the seven
wonders of the world) are ascribed to Nebuchadnezar, who is said to
have built them at the wish of his wife Amytis.

Six hundred and thirty years before Christ, the Babylonian empire
was at the highest point of its magnificence.  At this time it
was conquered by the Chaldeans.  It was afterwards subject in succession
to the Persians, Osmans, Tartars, and others, until the year A.D. 1637,
since which time it has remained under the Osman government.

The temple of Belus or Baal was destroyed by Xerxes, and Alexander
the Great would have restored it; but as it would have required 10,000
men for two months (others say two years) merely to remove the rubbish,
he did not attempt it.

One of the palaces is described as having been the residence of the
king, the other a castle.  Unfortunately they are so fallen to
decay, that they afford no means of forming a satisfactory opinion even
to antiquarians.  It is supposed, however, that the ruins called
Mujellibe are the remains of the castle.  Another large heap of
ruins is situated about a mile distant, called El Kasir.  According
to some, the temple of Baal stood here, according to others the royal
palace.  Massive fragments of walls and columns are still to be
seen, and in a hollow a lion in dark grey granite, of such a size that
at some distance I took it for an elephant.  It is very much damaged,
and, to judge from what remains, does not appear to have been the work
of a great artist.

The mortar is of extraordinary hardness; it is easier to break the
bricks themselves, than to separate them from it.  The bricks of
all the ruins are partly yellow and partly red, a foot long, nearly
as broad, and half an inch thick.

In the ruins El Kasir stands a solitary tree, which belongs to a
species of firs which is quite unknown in this district.  The Arabs
call it Athalé, and consider it sacred.  There are said
to be several of the same kind near Buschir—they are there called
Goz or Guz.

Many writers see something very extraordinary in this tree; indeed
they go so far as to consider it as a relic of the hanging gardens,
and affirm that it gives out sad melancholy tones when the wind plays
through its branches, etc.  Everything, indeed, is possible with
God; but that this half-stunted tree which is scarcely eighteen feet
high, and whose wretched stem is at most only nine inches in diameter,
is full 3,000 years old, appears to me rather too improbable!

The country round Babylon is said to have been formerly so flourishing
and fruitful, that it was called the Paradise of Chaldea.  This
productiveness ceased with the existence of the buildings.

As I had seen everything completely, I rode on as far as Hilla, on
the other side of the Euphrates.  A most miserable bridge of forty-six
boats is here thrown across the river, which is four hundred and thirty
feet broad.  Planks and trunks of trees are laid from one boat
to the other, which move up and down at every step; there is no railing
at the side, and the space is so narrow that two riders can scarcely
pass.  The views along the river are very charming; I found the
vegetation here still rich, and several mosques and handsome buildings
give life to the blooming landscape.

In Hilla I was received by a rich Arab.  As the sun was already
very near setting, I was shown to a beautiful terrace instead of a room. 
A delicious pilau, roast lamb, and steamed vegetables were sent to me
for supper, with water and sour milk.

The terraces here were not surrounded by any walls, a circumstance
which was very agreeable to me, as it gave me an opportunity of observing
the mode of life and customs of my neighbours.

In the court-yards I saw the women engaged in making bread, and in
the same way as at Bandr-Abas.  The men and children meanwhile
spread straw mats upon the terraces, and brought dishes with pilaus,
vegetables, or some other eatables.  As soon as the bread was ready,
they began their meal.  The women also seated themselves, and I
thought that the modern Arabs were sufficiently advanced in civilization
to give my sex their place at table.  But to my regret I saw the
poor women, instead of helping themselves from the dishes, take straw
fans to keep off the flies from the heads of their husbands.  They
may have had their meal afterwards in the house, for I did not see them
eat anything, either upon the terraces or in the courts.  They
all slept upon the terraces.  Both men and women wrapped themselves
in rugs, and neither the one nor the other took off any of their clothing.

1st June.  I had ordered for this morning two fresh horses and
Arabs as a guard, that I might proceed with some safety to the ruins
of Birs Nimroud.  These ruins are situated six miles distant from
Hilla, in the desert or plain of Shinar, near the Euphrates, upon a
hill 265 feet high, built of bricks, and consist of the fragments of
a wall twenty-eight feet long, on one side thirty feet high, and on
the other thirty-five.  The greater part of the bricks are covered
with inscriptions.  Near this wall lie several large blackish blocks
which might be taken for lava, and it is only on closer examination
that they are found to be remains of walls.  It is supposed that
such a change could only have been brought about by lightning.

People are not quite unanimous in their opinions with respect to
these ruins.  Some affirm that they are the remains of the Tower
of Babel, others that they are those of the Temple of Baal.

There is an extensive view from the top of the hill over the desert,
the town of Hilla with its charming palm-gardens, and over innumerable
mounds of rubbish and brick-work.  Near these ruins stands an unimportant
Mahomedan chapel, which is said to be on the same spot where, according
to the Old Testament, the three youths were cast into the furnace for
refusing to worship idols.

In the afternoon I was again in Hilla.  I looked over the town,
which is said to contain 26,000 inhabitants, and found it built like
all Oriental towns.  Before the Kerbela gates is to be seen the
little mosque Esshems, which contains the remains of the prophet Joshua. 
It completely resembles the sepulchre of the Queen Zobiedé near
Baghdad.

Towards evening the family of my obliging host, together with some
other women and children, paid me a visit.  Their natural good
sense had deterred them from visiting me on the day of my arrival, when
they knew I was fatigued by the long ride.  I would willingly have
excused their visit today also, for neither the rich nor poor Arabs
have much idea of cleanliness.  They, moreover, would put the little
dirty children into my arms or on my lap, and I did not know how to
relieve myself of this pleasure.  Many of them had Aleppo boils,
and others sore eyes and skin diseases.  After the women and children
had left, my host came.  He was, at least, clean in his dress,
and conducted himself with more politeness.

On the 2nd of July I left Hilla at sunrise, and went on, without
stopping, to the Khan Scandaria (sixteen miles), where I remained some
hours; and then went the same day as far as Bir-Zanus, sixteen miles
further.  About an hour after midnight I again halted, and took
a soldier to accompany me.  We had scarcely proceeded four or five
miles from the khan when we perceived a very suspicious noise. 
We stopped, and the servant told me to be very quiet, so that our presence
might not be detected.  The soldier dismounted, and crept rather
than walked in the sand to reconnoitre the dangerous spot.  My
exhaustion was so great that, although alone in this dark night on the
terrible desert, I began to doze upon the horse, and did not wake up
till the soldier returned with a cry of joy, and told us that we had
not fallen in with a horde of robbers, but with a sheikh, who, in company
with his followers, were going to Baghdad.  We set spurs to our
horses, hastened after the troop, and joined them.  The chief greeted
me by passing his hand over his forehead towards his breast; and, as
a sign of his good will, offered me his arms, a club with an iron head,
covered with a number of spikes.  Only a sheikh is allowed to carry
such a weapon.

I remained in the sheikh’s company until sunrise, and then
quickened my horse’s pace, and at about 8 o’clock was again
seated in my chamber at Baghdad, after having, in the short space of
three days and a half, ridden 132 miles and walked about a great deal. 
The distance from Baghdad to Hilla is considered to be sixty miles,
and from Hilla to Birs Nimroud six.

I had now seen everything in and around Baghdad, and was desirous
of starting on my journey towards Ispahan.  Just at this time the
Persian prince, Il-Hany-Ala-Culy-Mirza, sent me a letter, informing
me that he had received very bad news from his native country; the governor
of Ispahan had been murdered, and the whole province was in a state
of revolt.  It was therefore impossible to enter Persia by this
route.  I decided in this case to go as far as Mósul, and
there determine my further course according to circumstances.

Before concluding my account of Baghdad, I must state that at first
I was greatly afraid of scorpions, as I had heard that there were great
numbers there; but I never saw one, either in the sardabs or on the
terraces, and during my stay of four weeks only found one in the court.

CHAPTER XIX.  MÓSUL AND NINEVEH.

JOURNEY OF THE CARAVAN THROUGH THE DESERT—ARRIVAL AT MÓSUL—CURIOSITIES—EXCURSION
TO THE RUINS OF NINEVEH AND THE VILLAGE OF NEBBI YUNUS—SECOND
EXCURSION TO THE RUINS OF NINEVEH—TEL-NIMROUD—ARABIAN HORSES—DEPARTURE
FROM MÓSUL.

In order to travel from Baghdad to Mósul safely, and without
great expense, it is necessary to join a caravan.  I requested
Herr Swoboda to direct me to a trustworthy caravan guide.  I was
indeed advised not to trust myself alone among the Arabs, at least to
take a servant with me; but with my limited resources this would have
been too expensive.  Moreover, I was already pretty well acquainted
with the people, and knew from experience that they might be trusted.

A caravan was to have left on the 14th of June, but the caravan guides,
like the ship captains, always delay some days, and so we did not start
until the 17th instead of the 14th.

The distance from Baghdad to Mósul is 300 miles, which occupy
in travelling from twelve to fourteen days.  Travellers ride either
horses or mules, and in the hot months travel during the night.

I had hired a mule for myself and my little baggage, for which I
paid the low price of fifteen krans (12s. 6d.), and had neither fodder
nor anything else to provide.

Every one who intends proceeding with the caravan is obliged to assemble
before the city gate about 5 o’clock in the evening.  Herr
Swoboda accompanied me there, and particularly recommended me to the
care of the caravan guide, and promised him in my name a good bachshish
if he saved me all the trouble he could during the journey.

In this way I entered upon a fourteen days’ journey through
deserts and steppes, a journey full of difficulties and dangers, without
any convenience, shelter, or protection.  I travelled like the
poorest Arab, and was obliged, like him, to be content to bear the most
burning sun, with no food but bread and water, or, at the most, a handful
of dates, or some cucumbers, and with the hot ground for a bed.

I had, while in Baghdad, written out a small list of Arabian words,
so that I might procure what was most necessary.  Signs were easier
to me than words, and by the aid of both, I managed to get on very well. 
I became in time so used to the signs that, in places where I could
make use of the language, I was obliged to take some pains to prevent
myself from using my hands at the same time.

While I was taking leave of Herr Swoboda, my little portmanteau,
and a basket with bread and other trifles, had already been put into
two sacks, which were hung over the back of the mule.  My mantle
and cushion formed a comfortable soft seat, and everything was in readiness—only
the mounting was rather difficult, as there was no stirrup.

Our caravan was small.  It counted only twenty-six animals,
most of which carried merchandise, and twelve Arabs, of whom five went
on foot.  A horse or mule carries from two to three and a half
hundredweight, according to the state of the road.

About 6 we started.  Some miles outside the town several other
travellers joined us, chiefly pedlars with loaded animals, so that presently
our party increased in numbers to sixty.  But our numbers changed
every evening, as some always remained behind, or others joined us. 
We often had with us some shocking vagabonds, of whom I was more afraid
than robbers.  It is, moreover, said not to be uncommon for thieves
to join the caravan, for the purpose of carrying on their depredations,
if there should be an opportunity of doing so.

I should, on the whole, have no great faith in the protection which
such a caravan is capable of affording, as the people who travel in
this way are principally pedlars, pilgrims, and such like, who probably
have never in their lives used a sword or fired a gun.  A few dozen
well-armed robbers would certainly get the better of a caravan of even
a hundred persons.

On the first night we rode ten hours, until we reached Jengitsché. 
The country around was flat and barren, uncultivated and uninhabited. 
Some few miles outside Baghdad cultivation appeared to be suddenly cut
off, and it was not until we came to Jengitsché that we saw again
palms and stubble fields, showing that human industry is capable of
producing something everywhere.

Travelling with caravans is very fatiguing: although a walking pace
is never exceeded, they are on the road from nine to twelve hours without
halting.  When travelling at night the proper rest is lost, and
in the day it is scarcely possible to get any sleep, exposed in the
open air to the excessive heat, and the annoyances of flies and mosquitoes.

18th June.  In Jengitsché we met with a chan, but it
was by no means equal in appearance and cleanliness to that on the road
to Babylon; its chief advantage was being situated near the Tigris.

The chan was surrounded by a small village, to which I proceeded
for the purpose of satisfying my hunger.  I went from hut to hut,
and at last fortunately succeeded in obtaining some milk and three eggs. 
I laid the eggs in the hot ashes and covered them over, filled my leathern
flask from the Tigris, and thus loaded returned proudly to the chan. 
The eggs I ate directly, but saved the milk for the evening.  After
this meal, procured with such difficulty, I certainly felt happier,
and more contented than many who had dined in the most sumptuous manner.

During my search through the village, I noticed, from the number
of ruined houses and huts, that it seemed to have been of some extent
formerly.  Here, also, the last plague had carried off the greater
part of the inhabitants; for, at the present time, there were only a
few very poor families.

I here saw a very peculiar mode of making butter.  The cream
was put into a leathern bottle, and shaken about on the ground until
the butter had formed.  When made, it was put into another bottle
filled with water.  It was as white as snow, and I should have
taken it for lard if I had not seen it made.

We did not start this evening before 10 o’clock, and then rode
eleven hours without halting, to Uesi.  The country here was less
barren than that between Baghdad and Jengitsché.  We did
not, indeed, see any villages on the road; but small groups of palms,
and the barking of dogs, led us to conclude that there were some very
near.  At sun-rise we were gratified by the sight of a low range
of mountains, and the monotony of the plain was here and there broken
at intervals, by small rows of hills.

19th June.  Yesterday I was not quite satisfied with the chan
at Jengitsché; but I should have been very thankful for a far
worse one today, that we might have found any degree of shelter from
the pitiless heat of the sun; instead, we were obliged to make our resting
place in a field of stubble, far removed from human habitations. 
The caravan guide endeavoured to give me some little shade by laying
a small cover over a couple of poles stuck into the ground; but the
place was so small, and the artificial tent so weak, that I was compelled
to sit quietly in one position, as the slightest movement would have
upset it.  How I envied the missionaries and scientific men, who
undertake their laborious journeys furnished with horses, tents, provisions,
and servants.  When I wished, shortly afterwards, to take some
refreshments, I had nothing but lukewarm water, bread so hard that I
was obliged to sop it in water to be able to eat it, and a cucumber
without salt or vinegar!  However, I did not lose my courage and
endurance, or regret, even for a moment, that I had exposed myself to
these hardships.

We set out again about 8 o’clock in the evening, and halted
about 4 in the morning at Deli-Abas.  The low range of mountains
still remained at our side.  From Deli-Abas we crossed the river
Hassei by a bridge built over it.

20th June.  We found a chan here; but it was so decayed that
we were obliged to encamp outside, as there is danger of snakes and
scorpions in such ruins.  A number of dirty Arab tents lay near
the chan.  The desire for something more than bread and cucumber,
or old, half-rotten dates, overcame my disgust, and I crept into several
of these dwellings.  The people offered me buttermilk and bread. 
I noticed several hens running about the tents with their young, and
eagerly looking for food.  I would gladly have bought one, but
as I was not disposed to kill and prepare it myself, I was obliged to
be contented with the bread and buttermilk.

Some plants grow in this neighbourhood which put me in mind of my
native country—the wild fennel.  At home I scarcely thought
them worth a glance, while here they were a source of extreme gratification. 
I am not ashamed to say, that at the sight of these flowers the tears
came into my eyes, and I leant over them and kissed them as I would
a dear friend.

We started again today, as early as 5 in the evening, as we had now
the most dangerous stage of the journey before us, and were desirous
of passing it before nightfall.  The uniformly flat sandy desert
in some degree altered in character.  Hard gravel rattled under
the hoofs of the animals; mounds, and strata of rock alternated with
rising ground.  Many of the former were projecting from the ground
in their natural position, others had been carried down by floods, or
piled over each other.  If this strip had not amounted to more
than 500 or 600 feet, I should have taken it to be the former bed of
a river; but as it was, it more resembled the ground left by the returning
of the sea.  In many places saline substances were deposited, whose
delicate crystals reflected the light in all directions.

This strip of ground, which is about five miles long, is dangerous,
because the hills and rocks serve as a favourable ambush for robbers. 
Our drivers constantly urged the poor animals on.  They were obliged
to travel here over hills and rocks quicker than across the most convenient
plains.  We passed through in safety before darkness came on, and
then proceeded more leisurely on our journey.

21st June.  Towards 1 in the morning, we came up with the town
Karatappa, of which, however, we saw only the walls.  A mile beyond
this we halted in some stubble fields.  The extensive deserts and
plains end here, and we entered upon a more cultivated and hilly country.

On the 22nd of June, we halted in the neighbourhood of the town Küferi.

Nothing favourable can be said of any of the Turkish towns, as they
so much resemble each other in wretchedness, that it is a pleasure not
to be compelled to enter them.  The streets are dirty, the houses
built of mud or unburnt bricks, the places of worship unimportant, miserable
stalls and coarse goods constitute the bazaars, and the people, dirty
and disgusting, are of a rather brown complexion.  The women increase
their natural ugliness, by dyeing their hair and nails reddish brown
with henna, and by tattooing their hands and arms.  Even at twenty-five
years old, they appear quite faded.

On the 23rd of June, we halted not far from the town of Dus, and
took up our resting-place for the day.

In this place, I was struck by the low entrances of the houses; they
were scarcely three feet high, so that the people were obliged to crawl
rather than walk into them.

On the 25th of June, we came to Daug, where I saw a monument which
resembled that of Queen Zobiedé in Baghdad.  I could not
learn what great or holy man was buried under it.

25th June.  At 4 this morning we came to the place where our
caravan guide lived, a village about a mile from Kerku.  His house
was situated, with several others, in a large dirty court-yard, which
was surrounded by a wall with only one entrance.  This court-yard
resembled a regular encampment: all the inhabitants slept there; and,
besides these, there was no want of mules, horses, and asses. 
Our animals immediately went to their stalls, and trod so near to the
sleepers, that I was quite anxious for their safety; but the animals
are cautious, and the people know that, and remain perfectly quiet.

My Arab had been absent three weeks, and now returned only for a
very short time; and yet none of his family came out to greet him except
an old woman.  Even with her, whom I supposed to be his mother,
he exchanged no kind of welcome.  She merely hobbled about here
and there, but gave no help, and might as well have remained where she
was lying, as the others.

The houses of the Arabs consist of a single, lofty, spacious apartment,
separated into three parts by two partition walls, which do not extend
quite across to the front wall.  Each of these compartments is
about thirty feet in length by nine in breadth, and serves as a dwelling
for a family.  The light fell through the common door-way and two
holes, which were made in the upper part of the front wall.  A
place was set apart for me in one of these compartments, where I could
pass the day.

My attention was first directed to the nature of the relationships
between the several members of the family.  At first this was very
difficult, as it was only towards the very young children that any kind
of attachment or love was shown.  They appeared to be a common
property.  At last, however, I succeeded in ascertaining that three
related families lived in the house—the patriarch, a married son,
and a married daughter.

The patriarch was a handsome, powerful old man, sixty years of age,
and the father of my guide, which I had learnt before, as he was one
of our travelling party; he was a terrible scold, and wrangled about
every trifle; the son seldom contradicted him, and gave way to all that
his father wished.  The caravan animals belonged, in common, to
both, and were driven by themselves, and by a grandson fifteen years
old, and some servants.  When we had reached the house, the old
man did not attend to the animals much, but took his ease and gave his
orders.  It was easy to see that he was the head of the family.

The first impression of the Arab character is that it is cold and
reserved; I never saw either husband and wife, or father and daughter,
exchange a friendly word; they said nothing more than was positively
necessary.  They show far more feeling towards children. 
They allow them to shout and make as much noise as they like, no one
vexes or contradicts them, and every misconduct is overlooked. 
But as soon as a child is grown up, it becomes his duty to put up with
the infirmities of his parents, which he does with respect and patience.

To my great astonishment, I heard the children call their mothers
máma or nána, their fathers bàba, and their grandmothers
eté or eti.

The women lie lazily about during the whole day, and only in the
evening exert themselves to make bread.  I thought their dress
particularly awkward and inconvenient.  The sleeves of their shirts
were so wide that they stuck out half a yard from the arms; the sleeves
of the kaftan were still larger.  Whenever they do any work, they
are obliged to wind them round their arms, or tie them in a knot behind. 
Of course they are always coming undone, and causing delay and stoppage
of their work.  In addition to this, the good folks are not much
addicted to cleanliness, and make use of their sleeves for blowing their
noses on, as well as for wiping their spoons and plates.  Their
head coverings are not less inconvenient: they use first a large cloth,
twice folded; over this two others are wound, and a fourth is thrown
over the whole.

Unfortunately, we stayed here two days.  I had a great deal
to undergo the first day: all the women of the place flocked round me
to stare at the stranger.  They first commenced examining my clothes,
then wanted to take the turban off my head, and were at last so troublesome,
that it was only by force that I could get any rest.  I seized
one of them sharply by the arm, and turned her out of the door so quickly,
that she was overcome before she knew what I was going to do. 
I signified to the others that I would serve them the same.  Perhaps
they thought me stronger than I was, for they retired immediately.

I then drew a circle round my place and forbade them to cross it,
an injunction they scrupulously attended to.

I had now only to deal with the wife of my guide.  She laid
siege to me the whole day, coming as near to me as possible, and teasing
me to give her some of my things.  I gave her a few trifles, for
I had not much with me, and she then wanted everything.  Fortunately
her husband came out of the house just then; I called him and complained
of his wife, and at the same time threatened to leave his house, and
seek shelter somewhere else, well knowing that the Arabs consider this
a great disgrace.  He immediately ordered her harshly out, and
I at last had peace.  I always succeeded in carrying out my own
will.  I found that energy and boldness have a weight with all
people, whether Arabs, Persians, Bedouins, or others.

Towards evening I saw, to my great delight, a cauldron of mutton
set on the fire.  For eight days I had eaten nothing but bread,
cucumber, and some dates; and, therefore, had a great desire for a hot
and more nutritious meal.  But my appetite was greatly diminished
when I saw their style of cookery.  The old woman (my guide’s
mother) threw several handsful of small grain, and a large quantity
of onions, into a pan full of water to soften.  In about half an
hour she put her dirty hands into the water, and mixed the whole together,
now and then taking a mouthful, and, after chewing it, spitting it back
again into the pan.  She then took a dirty rag, and strained off
the juice, which she poured over the flesh in the pot.

I had firmly made up my mind not to touch this food; but when it
was ready it gave out such an agreeable odour, and my hunger was so
great, that I broke my resolution, and remembered how many times I had
eaten of food the preparation of which was not a whit cleaner. 
What was so bad in the present instance was that I had seen the whole
process.

The broth was of a bluish black in colour, and with a rather strongly
acid taste—both the result of the berries.  But it agreed
with me very well, and I felt as strong and well as if I had undergone
no hardships during my journey from Baghdad.

I hoped soon to have had a similar dainty meal, but the Arab does
not live so extravagantly; I was obliged to remain satisfied with bread
and some cucumbers, without salt, oil, or vinegar.

26th June.  We left the village and passed Kerkü. 
At sunrise, we ascended a small hill, from the summit of which I was
astonished by a beautiful prospect: a majestic lofty chain of mountains
extended along an enormous valley, and formed the boundary between Kurdistan
and Mesopotamia.

In this valley there were the most beautiful flowers, mallows, chrysanthemums,
and thistly plants.  Among the latter, there was one which frequently
occurs in Germany, but not in such richness and magnificence. 
In many places these thistles cover large spaces of ground.  The
country people cut them down, and burn them instead of wood, which is
here a great luxury, as there are no trees.  We saw, today, some
herds of gazelles, which ran leaping past us.

On the 27th of June we made our encampment near the miserable little
town Attum-Kobri.  Before reaching it, we crossed the river Sab
(called by the natives Altum-Su, golden water), by two old Roman bridges. 
I saw several similar bridges in Syria.  In both instances they
were in good preservation, and will apparently long remain as evidences
of the Roman power.  Their wide and lofty arches rested upon massive
pillars, and the whole was constructed of large square blocks of stone;
the ascent of bridges of this kind is so steep that the animals are
obliged to scramble up like cats.

On the 28th of June we reached the town of Erbil (formerly Arbela),
where, to my great chagrin, we remained until the evening of the following
day.  This little town, which is fortified, is situated upon an
isolated hill in the centre of a valley.  We encamped, fortunately,
near some houses outside the town, at the foot of the hill.  I
found a hut, which was tenanted by some men, two donkeys, and a number
of fowls.  The mistress, for a small acknowledgment, provided me
a little place, which at least sheltered me from the burning heat of
the sun.  Beyond that, I had not the slightest convenience. 
As this hut, in comparison with the others, was a complete palace, the
whole of the neighbours were constantly collected here.  From early
in the morning till late in the evening, when it is the custom to recline
upon the terraces, or before the huts, there was always a large party;
one came to gossip, others brought meal with them, and kneaded their
bread meanwhile, so as not to miss the conversation.  In the background,
the children were being washed and freed from vermin, the asses were
braying, and the fowls covering everything with dirt.  These, altogether,
made the stay in this place more unbearable than even hunger and thirst. 
Still, I must say, to the credit of these people, that they behaved
with the greatest propriety towards me, although not only women, but
a great number of men of the poorest and lowest class, were coming backwards
and forwards continually; even the women here left me in quiet.

In the evening, some mutton was cooked in a vessel which just before
was full of dirty linen steeped in water.  This was emptied out,
and, without cleaning the pot, it was used to prepare the food in the
same manner as at the house of my guide.

On the 30th of June we halted at the village of Sab.  We here
crossed the great river Sab by means of rafts, the mode of constructing
which is certainly very ancient.  They consist of leathern bottles,
filled with air, fastened together with poles, and covered with planks,
reeds, and rushes.  Our raft had twenty-eight wind-bags, was seven
feet broad, nearly as long, and carried two horse-loads and six men. 
As our caravan numbered thirty-two loaded animals, the crossing of the
river occupied half a day.  Four or five of the animals were tied
together and drawn over by a man seated across an air-bag.  The
weaker animals, such as the donkeys, had a bag half filled with air
tied on their backs.

The night of the 30th of June, the last of our journey, was one of
the most wearisome: we travelled eleven hours.  About half-way,
we came to the river Hasar, called Gaumil by the Greeks, and made remarkable
by the passage of Alexander the Great.  It was broad, but not deep,
and we therefore rode through.  The chain of mountains still continued
at the side at some considerable distance, and here and there rose low,
sterile hills, or head-lands.  The total absence of trees in this
part of Mesopotamia is striking: during the last five days I did not
see a single one.  It is, therefore, easy to imagine that there
are many people here who have never seen such a thing.  There were
spaces of twenty miles in extent, upon which not a single branch was
to be seen.  However, it is fortunate that there is no scarcity
of water; every day we came once or twice to rivers of various sizes.

The town of Mósul did not become visible until we were within
about five miles.  It is situated upon a slight elevation in a
very extensive valley, on the west bank of the Tigris, which is already
much narrower here than near Baghdad.  We arrived about 7 o’clock
in the morning.

I was fresh and active, although during these fifteen days I had
only twice had a hot meal—the ink-coloured lamb soup at Kerkü
and Ervil; although I had been obliged to remain day and night in the
same clothes, and had not even an opportunity of once changing my linen,
not to say anything of the terrific heat, the continual riding, and
other fatigues.

I first dismounted at the caravansary, and then procured a guide
to the English Vice-consul, Mr. Rassam, who had already prepared a room
for me, as he had been previously informed of my coming by a letter
from Major Rawlinson, at Baghdad.

I first visited the town, which, however, does not present any very
remarkable features.  It is surrounded by fortified works, and
contains 25,000 inhabitants, among which there are scarcely twelve Europeans. 
The bazaars are extensive, but not in the least degree handsome; between
them lie several coffee-stalls and some chans.  I found the entrances
to all the houses narrow, low, and furnished with strong gates. 
These gates are relics of former times, when the people were always
in danger from the attacks of enemies.  In the interiors, there
are very beautiful court-yards, and lofty, airy rooms, with handsome
entrances and bow-windows.  The doors and window-frames, the stairs
and walls of the ground-floor rooms, are generally made of marble; though
the marble which is used for these purposes is not very fine, yet it
still looks better than brick walls.  The quarry lies close to
the town.

Here also the hot part of the day is passed in the sardabs. 
The heat is most terrible in the month of July, when the burning simoom
not unfrequently sweeps over the town.  During my short stay at
Mósul, several people died very suddenly; these deaths were ascribed
to the heat.  Even the sardabs do not shelter people from continual
perspiration, as the temperature rises as high as 97° 25’
Fah.

The birds also suffer much from the heat: they open their beaks wide,
and stretch their wings out far from their bodies.

The inhabitants suffer severely in their eyes; but the Aleppo boils
are not so common as in Baghdad, and strangers are not subject to them.

I found the heat very oppressive, but in other respects was very
well, especially as regards my appetite: I believe that I could have
eaten every hour of the day.  Probably this was in consequence
of the hard diet which I had been obliged to endure on my journey.

The principal thing worth seeing at Mósul is the palace, about
half a mile from the town.  It consists of several buildings and
gardens, surrounded with walls which it is possible to see over, as
they lie lower than the town.  It presents a very good appearance
from a distance, but loses on nearer approach.  In the gardens
stand beautiful groups of trees, which are the more valuable as they
are the only ones in the whole neighbourhood.

During my stay at Mósul, a large number of Turkish troops
marched through.  The Pasha rode out a short distance to receive
them, and then returned to the town at the head of the foot regiments. 
The cavalry remained behind, and encamped in tents along the banks of
the Tigris.  I found these troops incomparably better clothed and
equipped than those which I had seen, in 1842, at Constantinople. 
Their uniform consisted of white trousers, blue cloth spencers, with
red facings, good shoes, and fez.

As soon as I was in some degree recovered from the fatigue of my
late journey, I requested my amiable host to furnish me with a servant
who should conduct me to the ruins of Nineveh; but instead of a servant,
the sister of Mrs. Rassam and a Mr. Ross accompanied me.  One morning
we visited the nearest ruins on the other side of the Tigris, at the
village Nebbi Yunus opposite the town; and, on another day, those called
Tel-Nimroud, which are situated at a greater distance, about eighteen
miles down the river.

According to Strabo, Nineveh was still larger than Babylon. 
He represents it as having been the largest city in the world. 
The journey round it occupied three days.  The walls were a hundred
feet high, broad enough for three chariots abreast, and defended by
fifteen hundred towers.  The same authority states that the Assyrian
king Ninus was the founder, about 2,200 years before the birth of Christ.

The whole is now covered with earth, and it is only when the peasants
are ploughing, that fragments of brick or marble are here and there
turned up.  Long ranges of mounds, more or less high, extending
over the immeasurable plain on the left bank of the Tigris, are known
to cover the remains of this town.

In the year 1846, the Trustees of the British Museum sent the erudite
antiquarian, Mr. Layard, to undertake the excavations.  It was
the first attempt that had ever been made, and was very successful.
{268}

Several excavations were made in the hills near Nebbi Yunus, and
apartments were soon reached whose walls were covered with marble slabs
wrought in relief.  These represented kings with crowns and jewels,
deities with large wings, warriors with arms and shields, the storming
of fortifications, triumphal processions, and hunting parties, etc. 
They were unfortunately deficient in correct drawing, proportions, or
perspective; the mounds and fortifications were scarcely three times
as high as the besiegers; the fields reached to the clouds; the trees
and lotus flowers could scarcely be distinguished from each other; and
the heads of men and animals were all alike, and only in profile. 
On many of the walls were found those wedge-shaped characters, or letters,
which constitute what are called cuneiform inscriptions, and are found
only on Persian and Babylonian monuments.

Among all the rooms and apartments which were brought to light, there
was only one in which the walls were covered with fine cement and painted;
but, notwithstanding the greatest care, it was not possible to preserve
this wall.  When it came in contact with the air, the cement cracked
and fell off.  The marble also is partially converted into lime,
or otherwise injured, in consequence of the terrible conflagration which
laid the city in ruins.  The bricks fall to pieces when they are
dug out.

From the number of handsome apartments, the abundance of marble,
and the paintings and inscriptions upon it, the inference is drawn that
this spot contains the ruins of a royal palace.

A considerable quantity of marble slabs, with reliefs and cuneiform
inscriptions, were carefully detached from the walls and sent to England. 
When I was at Bassora, a whole cargo of similar remains lay near the
Tigris, and among others a sphynx.

On our return we visited the village Nebbi Yunus, which is situated
on a slight eminence near the ruins.  It is remarkable only on
account of a small mosque, which contains the ashes of the prophet Jonas,
and to which thousands of devotees make annual pilgrimages.

During this excursion we passed a number of fields, in which the
people were engaged in separating the corn from the straw in a very
peculiar manner.  For this purpose, a machine was employed, consisting
of two wooden tubs, between which was fastened a roller, with from eight
to twelve long, broad, and blunt knives or hatchets.  This was
drawn by two horses or oxen over the bundles of corn laid on the ground,
until the whole of the corn was separated from the straw.  It was
then thrown up into the air by means of shovels, so that the chaff might
be separated from the grain by the wind.

We finally visited the sulphur springs, which lie close to the walls
of Mósul.  They are not warm, but appear to contain a large
quantity of sulphur, as the smell is apparent at a considerable distance. 
These springs rise in natural basins, which are surrounded by walls
eight feet in height.  Every one is allowed to bathe there without
any charge, for people are not so niggardly and sparing of nature’s
gifts as in Europe.  Certain hours are set apart for women, and
others for the men.

On the following day we rode to the Mosque Elkosch, near the town. 
Noah’s son Shem has found a resting-place here.  We were
not allowed to enter this mosque, but certainly did not lose much by
that, as all these monuments are alike, and are not remarkable either
for architecture or ornament.

The Nineveh excavations are carried on most extensively at Tel-Timroud,
a district where the mounds of earth are the most numerous.  Tel-Nimroud
is situated about eighteen miles from Mósul down the Tigris.

We took our seats one moonlight evening upon a raft, and glided down
between the dull banks of the Tigris.  After seven hours, we landed,
about 1 o’clock in the morning, at a poor village, bearing the
high sounding name Nimroud.  Some of the inhabitants, who were
sleeping before their huts, made us a fire and some coffee, and we then
laid down till daybreak upon some rugs we had brought with us.

At daybreak we took horses (of which there are plenty in every village),
and rode to the excavations, about a mile from Nimroud.  We found
here a great number of places which had been dug up, or rather, uncovered
mounds of earth, but not, as at Herculaneum, whole houses, streets,
squares, indeed, half a town.  Nothing beyond separate rooms has
been brought to light here, or at the utmost, three or four adjoining
ones, the exterior walls of which are not, in any case, separated from
the earth, and have neither windows nor doors visible.

The objects which have been discovered exactly resemble those in
the neighbourhood of Mósul, but occur in greater numbers. 
Besides these, I saw several idols and sphynxes in stone.  The
former represented animals with human heads; their size was gigantic—about
that of an elephant.  Four of these statues have been found, two
of which were, however, considerably damaged.  The others were
not indeed in very good preservation, although sufficiently so to show
that the sculptors did not particularly excel in their profession. 
The sphynxes were small, and had unfortunately suffered more damage
than the bulls.

Shortly before my arrival, an obelisk of inconsiderable height, a
small and uninjured sphynx, together with other remains, had been sent
to England.

The excavations near Tel-Nimroud have been discontinued about a year,
and Mr. Layard has been recalled to London.  An order was afterwards
given to cover in the places which had been dug open, as the wandering
Arabs had begun to do a great deal of injury.  When I visited the
spot, some places were already covered in, but the greater part remained
open.

The excavations near Nebbi Yunus are still being carried on. 
An annual grant is made by the British government for this purpose.

The English resident at Baghdad, Major Rawlinson, had made himself
perfectly master of the cuneiform character.  He reads the inscriptions
with ease, and many of the translations are the results of his labours.

We returned to Mósul on horseback in five hours and a half. 
The power of endurance of the Arabian horses is almost incredible. 
They were allowed only a quarter of an hour’s rest in Mósul,
where they had nothing but water, and then travelled the eighteen miles
back again during the hottest part of the day.  Mr. Ross told me
that even this was not equal to the work done by the post horses: the
stations for these are from forty-eight to seventy-two miles distant
from each other.  It is possible to travel from Mósul by
Tokat to Constantinople in this way.  The best Arabian horses are
found round Baghdad and Mósul.

An agent of the Queen of Spain had just purchased a stud of twelve
magnificent horses (eight mares and four stallions), the dearest of
which had cost on the spot £150 sterling.  They stood in
Mr. Rassam’s stable.  Their handsome, long, slender heads,
their sparkling eyes, slight bodies, and their small delicately formed
feet, would have filled any admirer of horses with delight.

I could now venture, not, indeed, without considerable risk, although
with the possibility of some insult, upon the desired journey into Persia. 
I sought a caravan to Tebris.  Unfortunately, I could not find
one which went direct there, and I was, therefore, compelled to make
this journey in separate stages, a circumstance which was so much the
worse for me, as I was told that I should not find any Europeans on
the way.

Nevertheless I took the chance.  Mr. Rassam arranged for me
the journey as far as Ravandus, and furnished me with a letter of recommendation
to one of the natives there.  I wrote out a small lexicon of Arabian
and Persian words, and took leave of this hospitable family at sunset,
on the 8th of July.  I started on this journey with some feelings
of anxiety, and scarcely dared to hope for a fortunate termination. 
On that account I sent my papers and manuscripts from here to Europe,
so that in case I was robbed or murdered my diary would at least come
into the hands of my sons. {270}

CHAPTER XX.  PERSIA.

JOURNEY OF THE CARAVAN TO RAVANDUS—ARRIVAL AT AND STAY IN
RAVANDUS—A KURDISH FAMILY—CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY—SAUH-BULAK—OROMIA—AMERICAN
MISSIONARIES—KUTSCHIÉ—THREE GENEROUS ROBBERS—PERSIAN
CHANS AND ENGLISH BUNGALOWS—ARRIVAL AT TEBRIS.

On the 8th of July the caravan guide called for me in the evening. 
His appearance was so unfavourable that I should scarcely have ventured
to travel a mile with him had I not been assured that he was a man well
known in the place.  His dress consisted of rags and tatters, and
his countenance resembled that of a robber.  Ali, that was his
name, told me that the travellers and goods had already gone on and
were encamped in the chan near Nebbi-Yunus, where they were to pass
the night.  The journey was to be commenced before sunrise. 
I found three men and some pack-horses; the men (Kurds) were no better
in appearance than Ali, so that I could not promise myself much gratification
from their society.  I took up my quarters for the night in the
dirty court-yard of the chan, but was too much frightened to sleep well.

In the morning, to my astonishment, there were no indications of
starting.  I asked Ali what was the cause of this, and received
as answer that the travellers were not all assembled yet, and that,
as soon as they were, we should proceed immediately.  In the expectation
that this might soon happen, I dared not leave the miserable shelter
to return to Mósul, from which we were only a mile distant. 
The whole day was spent in waiting; these people did not come until
evening.  There were five of them: one, who appeared to be a wealthy
man, with his two servants, was returning from a pilgrimage.  We
started at last about 10 o’clock at night.  After travelling
for four hours we crossed several ranges of hills, which form the boundaries
of Mesopotamia and Kurdistan.  We passed several villages, and
reached Secani on the morning of the 10th of July.  Ali did not
halt at the village which lies on the pretty river Kasir, but on the
other side of the river near a couple of deserted, half-ruined huts. 
I hastened directly into one of the best to make sure of a good place,
where the sun did not come through the sieve-like roof, which I fortunately
found but the pilgrim, who hobbled in directly after me, was inclined
to dispute its possession.  I threw my mantle down, and seating
myself upon it, did not move from the place, well knowing that a Mussulman
never uses force towards a woman, not even towards a Christian one. 
And so it turned out; he left me in my place and went grumbling away. 
One of the pedlars behaved himself in a very different manner: when
he saw that I had nothing for my meal but dry bread, while he had cucumbers
and sweet melons, he gave me a cucumber and a melon, for which he would
not take any money.  The pilgrim also ate nothing else, although
he had only to send one of his servants to the village to procure either
fowls or eggs, etc.  The frugality of these people is really astonishing.

About 6 in the evening we again proceeded on our journey, and for
the first three hours went continually up-hill.  The ground was
waste and covered with boulders, which were full of shallow holes, and
resembled old lava.

Towards 11 at night we entered an extensive and beautiful valley,
upon which the moon threw a brilliant light.  We purposed halting
here, and not continuing our journey further during the night, as our
caravan was small, and Kurdistan bears a very bad name.  The road
led over fields of stubble near to stacks of corn.  Suddenly half
a dozen powerful fellows sprung out from behind, armed with stout cudgels,
and seizing our horses’ reins, raised their sticks, and shouted
at us terribly.  I felt certain that we had fallen into the hands
of a band of robbers, and was glad to think that I had left my treasures
which I had collected at Babylon and Nineveh, together with my papers,
at Mósul; my other effects might have been easily replaced. 
During the time this was passing in my mind, one of our party had sprung
from his horse and seized one of the men by the breast, when he held
a loaded pistol before his face and threatened to shoot him.  This
had an immediate effect; the waylayers relinquished their hold, and
soon entered into a peaceful conversation with us; and at last, indeed,
showed us a good place to encamp, for which, however, they requested
a small bachshish, which was given to them by a general collection. 
From me, as belonging to the female sex, they required nothing. 
We passed the night here, though not without keeping guard.

11th July.  About 4 o’clock we were again upon the road,
and rode six hours, when we came to the village of Selik.  We passed
through several villages, which, however, had a very miserable appearance. 
The huts were built of reeds and straw; the slightest gust of wind would
have been sufficient to have blown them over.  The dress of the
people approaches in character to the Oriental; all were very scantily,
dirtily, and raggedly clothed.

Near Selik I was surprised by the sight of a fig-tree and another
large tree.  In this country trees are rare.  The mountains
surrounding us were naked and barren, and in the valleys there grew
at most some wild artichokes or beautiful thistles and chrysanthemums.

The noble pilgrim took upon himself to point out my place under the
large tree, where the whole party were encamped.  I gave him no
reply, and took possession of one of the fig-trees.  Ali, who was
far better than he looked, brought me a jug of buttermilk, and altogether
today passed off tolerably pleasantly.

Several women from the village visited me and begged for money, but
I gave them none, as I knew from experience that I should be attacked
by all if I gave to one.  I once gave a child a little ring, and
not only the other children, but their mothers and grandmothers, crowded
round me.  It cost me some trouble to keep them from forcibly emptying
my pockets.  Since that time I was more cautious.  One of
the women here changed her begging manner into one so threatening, that
I was heartily glad at not being alone with her.

We left this village at 4 in the afternoon.  The pilgrim separated
from us, and the caravan then consisted of only five men.  In about
an hour and a half we reached an eminence from which we obtained a view
of an extensive and well cultivated hill country.  The land in
Kurdistan is without comparison better than in Mesopotamia, and the
country is consequently better inhabited; we were, therefore continually
passing through different villages.

Before nightfall we entered a valley which was distinguished for
fresh rice plantations, beautiful shrubs, and green reeds: a brisk stream
murmured at our side, the heat of the day was now succeeded by the evening
shadows, and, at this moment we had nothing to wish for.  This
good fortune, however, did not last long; one of the pedlars was suddenly
taken so ill that we were obliged to stop.  He nearly fell off
his mule, and remained motionless.  We covered him with rugs, but
beyond that we could not do anything for him, as we had neither medicines
nor other remedies with us.  Fortunately, he fell asleep after
a few hours, and we squatted down on the ground and followed his example.

12th July.  This morning our patient was well again; a doubly
fortunate circumstance, as we had to pass a terribly rocky and stony
road.  We were obliged to scramble up and down the mountainous
side of a valley, as the valley itself was completely occupied by the
irregular course of the river Badin, which wound in a serpentine direction
from side to side.  Pomegranates and oleanders grew in the valley,
wild vines twined themselves round the shrubs and trees, and larches
covered the slopes of the hills.

After a difficult and dangerous ride of six hours, we came to a ford
of the river Badin.  Our raft turned out to be so small that it
would carry only two men, and very little baggage; and we were, in consequence,
four hours in crossing.  We stayed for the night not far from the
ferry of Vakani.

13th July.  The road still continued bad; we had to ascend an
immense pile of mountains.  Far and wide, nothing was to be seen
but rock and stone, although, to my astonishment, I observed that in
many places the stones had been gathered on one side, and every little
spot of earth made use of.  A few dwarf ash-trees stood here and
there.  The whole has the character of the country near Trieste.

Although there were no villages on the road, there appeared to be
some near, for on many of the heights I observed large burial-places,
especially on those which are overshadowed by ash-trees.  It is
the custom throughout Kurdistan to establish the burial-places on high
situations.

We did not travel more than seven hours today, and halted in the
valley of Halifan.  This little valley has an uncommonly romantic
situation; it is surrounded by lofty and beautiful mountains, which
rise with a gentle slope on one side, and on the other are steep and
precipitous.  The whole valley was covered with a rich vegetation;
the stubble-fields were interspersed with tobacco and rice plantations,
and meadows.  Poplar-trees surrounded the village, which was pleasantly
situated at the foot of a hill, and a stream of crystalline clearness
rushed forcibly out of a mountain chasm, and flowed calmly and still
through this delightful valley.  Towards evening, numerous herds
of cows, sheep, and goats came from the mountain-slopes towards the
village.

We encamped at some distance from the village; I could not procure
any relish for my dry bread, and had no other bed than the hard ground
of a stubble-field.  Nevertheless I should include this evening
among the most agreeable; the scenery round compensated me sufficiently
for the want of every other enjoyment.

14th July.  Ali allowed us to rest only half the night; at 2
o’clock we were again mounted.  A few hundred paces from
our resting-place was the entrance of a stupendous mountain-pass. 
The space between the sides of the rocks afforded only sufficient room
for the stream and a narrow pathway.  Fortunately the moon shone
out brilliantly, otherwise it would have been scarcely possible for
the most practised animal to ascend the narrow and extremely dangerous
road between the fallen masses of rock and rolling stones.  Our
hardy animals scrambled like chamois along, over the edges of the steep
precipices, and carried us with safety past the terrible abyss, at the
bottom of which the stream leapt, with a frightful roaring, from rock
to rock.  This night-scene was so terrible and impressive that
even my uncultivated companions were involuntarily silent—mute,
and noiseless, we went on our way, nothing breaking the death-like stillness
but the rattling steps of our animals.

We had proceeded about an hour in this way, when the moon was suddenly
obscured; thick clouds gathered round from all sides, and the darkness
soon became so great that we could scarcely see a few steps before us. 
The foremost man continually struck fire, so as to light up the path
somewhat by the sparks.  But this did not help us much, the animals
began to slip and stumble.  We were compelled to halt, and stood
quiet and motionless, one behind the other, as if suddenly changed to
stone by magic.  Life returned again with daybreak, and we spurred
our animals briskly forwards.

We were in an indescribably beautiful circle of mountains; at our
side lay high cliffs; before and behind, hills and mountains crowded
over each other, and in the far distance an enormous peak, covered with
snow, completed the romantic picture.  This mountain-pass is called
Ali-Bag.  For three hours and a half we continued going up hill,
without intermission.

A short distance before reaching the plateau, we observed, in several
places, small spots of blood, of which nobody at first took much notice,
as they might have been caused by a horse or mule that had injured itself. 
But shortly we came to a place which was entirely covered with large
blood-spots.  This sight filled us with great horror; we looked
round anxiously for the cause of these marks and perceived two human
bodies far down below.  One hung scarcely a hundred feet down on
the declivity of the rock, the other had rolled further on, and was
half-buried under a mass of rock.  We hastened from this horrible
scene as quickly as we could; it was several days before I could free
myself from the recollection of it.

All the stones on the plateau were full of holes, as if other stones
had been stuck in.  This appearance ceased as we went further up. 
In the valley, at the other side of the plateau, there were vines, which,
however, did not rise far above the ground, as they were not supported
in any way.

Our road continued on through the mountains.  We frequently
descended, but again had to cross several heights, and, finally, came
out upon a small elevated plain, which, on both sides, was bounded by
steep declivities.  A village of huts, made of branches, was situated
on this plain, and on the summits of two neighbouring rocks fortified
works were erected.

My travelling companions remained behind here; but Ali went with
me to the town of Ravandus, which only becomes visible from this side
at a very short distance.

The situation and view of this town is most charming; not indeed
from its beauty, for it is not more remarkable in that respect than
other Turkish towns, but on account of its peculiarity.  It is
situated upon a steep, isolated cone, surrounded by mountains. 
The houses are built in the form of terraces, one above another, with
flat roofs, which are covered with earth, stamped down hard, so as to
resemble narrow streets, for which they serve to the upper houses, and
it is frequently difficult to tell which is street and which roof. 
On many of the terraces, walls, formed of the branches of trees, are
erected, behind which the people sleep.  Lower down, the hill is
surrounded by a fortified wall.

When I first caught hold of this eagle’s nest, I feared that
I had not much probability of finding any conveniences for travellers,
and every step further confirmed this opinion.  Ravandus was one
of the most miserable towns I ever saw.  Ali conducted me over
a beggarly bazaar to a dirty court, which I took for a stable, but was
the chan; and, after I had dismounted, took me into a dark recess, in
which the merchant, to whom I had a letter, sat upon the ground before
his stall.  This merchant was the most considerable of his class
in Ravandus.  Mr. Mansur, that was the merchant’s name, read
over the letter which I had brought, for full a quarter of an hour,
although it only consisted of a few lines, and then greeted me with
a repeated salaam, which means “you are welcome.”

The good man must have concluded that I had not tasted any food today,
for he very hospitably ordered breakfast immediately, consisting of
bread, sheep’s cheese, and melons.  These were eaten all
together.  My hunger was so great that I found this plan excellent. 
I ate without ceasing.  The conversation, on the contrary, was
not so successful; my host did not understand any European language,
nor I any Asiatic language.  We made use of signs, and I took pains
to make him understand that I was desirous of going on further as soon
as possible.  He promised to do his utmost for me, and also explained
that he would see to me during my stay; he was not married, and therefore
could not receive me into his own house, but would take me to one of
his relations.

After breakfast was ended he took me to a house resembling those
of the Arabs at Kerkil, except that the court-yard was very small, and
completely filled with rubbish and puddles.  Under the door-way,
four ugly women with half-ragged clothes, were seated upon a dirty rug,
playing with some little children.  I was obliged to sit down with
them, and undergo the usual curious examination and staring.  For
some time I put up with it, but then left this charming society, and
looked about for a place where I could arrange my toilette a little. 
I had not changed my clothes for six days, having been exposed, at the
same time, to a heat which was far greater than that under the line. 
I found a dirty and smutty room, which, in addition to the disgust it
excited, made me fear the presence of vermin and scorpions; of the latter
I had a particular dread.  I thought at first that they were to
be found in every place, as I had read in many descriptions of travels
that they were innumerable in these countries.  My fear lessened
afterwards, as I did not meet with any, even in the dirtiest places;
in ruins, court-yards, or sardabs.  Altogether I only saw two during
my whole journey, but I suffered a great deal from other vermin, which
are only to be removed by burning the clothes and linen.

I had scarcely taken possession of this beggarly room, when one woman
after the other came in; the women were followed by the children, and
then by several neighbours, who had heard of the arrival of an Inglesi;
I was worse off here than under the gateway.

At last, one of the women luckily thought of offering me a bath,
and I accepted the proposal with great joy.  Hot water was prepared,
and they made a sign for me to follow them, which I did, and found myself
in the sheep-stall, which, perhaps, had not been cleaned for years,
or indeed as long as it had stood.  In this place they pushed two
stones together, upon which I was to stand, and in the presence of the
whole company, who followed me like my shadow, allow myself to be bathed
with water.  I made signs to them to go out, as I wished to perform
this office myself; they did indeed leave me, but as misfortune had
it, the stall had no door, and they were all able to look in just the
same.

I passed four days among these people, the day time in dark recesses,
the evenings and nights upon the terraces.  I was obliged, like
my hostess, constantly to squat down on the ground, and when I wanted
to write anything I had to make use of my knees instead of a table. 
Every day they told me there was a caravan going away to-morrow. 
Alas! they said so only to quiet me, they saw, perhaps, how disagreeable
the stay was to me.  The women lounged about the whole day sleeping
or chattering, playing with, or scolding the children.  They preferred
going about in dirty rags to mending and washing them, and they allowed
their children to tyrannize over them completely.

When the latter wanted anything and did not get it, they threw themselves
on the ground, struck about with their hands and feet, howling and shrieking
until they obtained what they desired.

They had no fixed meal-times during the day, but the women and children
were constantly eating bread, cucumbers, melons and buttermilk. 
In the evenings they bathed very much, and every one washed their hands,
faces, and feet, which ceremony was frequently repeated three or four
times before prayers; but there was a great want of real devotion: in
the middle of the prayers they chattered right and left.  However,
there is not much difference with us.

Notwithstanding all these glaring and gross defects I found these
people very amiable: they willingly permitted themselves to be taught,
admitted their failings, and always allowed me to be right when I said
or explained anything to them.  For example, the little Ascha,
a girl seven years of age was very intractable.  If she was denied
anything she threw herself on the ground, crying miserably, rolling
about in the filth and dirt, and smearing with her dirty hands the bread,
melons, etc.  I endeavoured to make the child conscious of her
misbehaviour, and succeeded beyond all expectation.  I, in fact,
imitated her.  The child looked at me astounded, upon which I asked
if it had pleased her.  She perceived the offensiveness of her
conduct, and I did not often need to imitate her.  It was just
the same with regard to cleanliness.  She immediately washed herself
carefully, and then came running joyfully to me showing her hands and
face.  During the few days I was here the child became so fond
of me that she would not leave my side, and sought in every way to make
friends with me.

I was not less fortunate with the women; I pointed out their torn
clothes, brought needles, and thread, and taught them how to sew and
mend.  They were pleased with this, and I had in a short time a
whole sewing school round me.

How much good might be done here by any one who knew the language
and had the inclination, only the parents must be taught at the same
time as the children.

What a fine field is here open to the missionaries if they would
accustom themselves to live among these people, and with kindness and
patience to counteract their failings!  As it is, however, they
devote at the utmost only a few hours in the day to them, and make their
converts come to them, instead of visiting them in their own houses.

The women and girls in the Asiatic countries receive no education,
those in the towns have little or no employment, and are left to themselves
during the whole day.  The men go at sunrise to the bazaars, where
they have their stalls or workshops, the bigger boys go to school or
accompany their fathers, and neither return home before sunset. 
There the husband expects to find the carpets spread out on the terraces,
the supper ready, and the nargilly lighted, he then plays a little with
the young children, who, however, during meal-time are obliged to keep
away with their mothers.  The women in the villages have more liberty
and amusement, as they generally take part in the housekeeping. 
It is said that the people in the country here are, as among ourselves,
more moral than in the towns.

The dress worn by the richer Kurds is the Oriental, that of the common
people differs slightly from it.  The men wear wide linen trousers,
over them a shirt reaching to the hips, and fastened round the waist
by a girdle.  They frequently draw on, over the shirt, a jacket
without sleeves, made of coarse brown woollen stuff, which is properly
cut into strips of a hand’s breath, and joined together by broad
seams.  Others wear trousers of brown stuff instead of white linen;
they are, however, extremely ugly, as they are really nothing more than
a wide shapeless sack with two holes, through which the feet are put. 
The coverings for the feet are either enormous shoes of coarsely woven
white sheeps’ wool, ornamented with three tassels, or short, very
wide boots of red or yellow leather, reaching only just above the ankle
and armed with large plates an inch thick.  The head-dress is a
turban.

The women wear long wide trousers, blue shirts, which frequently
reach half a yard over the feet, and are kept up by means of a girdle;
a large blue mantle hangs from the back of the neck, reaching down to
the calves.  They wear the same kind of plated boots as the men. 
On their heads they wear either black kerchiefs wound in the manner
of a turban, or a red fez, the top of which is very broad, and covered
with silver coins arranged in the form of a cross.  A coloured
silk kerchief is wound round the fez, and a wreath made of short black
silk fringe is fastened on the top.  This wreath looks like a handsome
rich fur-trimming, and is so arranged that it forms a coronet, leaving
the forehead exposed.  The hair falls in numerous thin tresses
over the shoulders, and a heavy silver chain hangs down behind from
the turban.  It is impossible to imagine a head dress that looks
better than this.

Neither women or girls cover their faces, and I saw here several
very beautiful girls with truly noble features.  The colour of
the skin is rather brown, the eyebrows and lashes were black, and the
hair dyed reddish-brown with henna.  Among the lower orders small
nose rings are sometimes worn here.

Mr. Mansur furnished me with a very good table in the morning, I
had buttermilk, bread, cucumber, and on one occasion dates roasted in
butter, which, however, was not very palatable; in the evening mutton
and rice, or a quodlibet of rice, barley, maize, cucumber, onions and
minced meat.  I found it all very good as I was healthy, and had
a good appetite.  The water and buttermilk are taken very cold,
and a piece of ice is always put into them.  Ice is to be met with
in abundance not only in the towns, but also in every village. 
It is brought from the mountains in the neighbourhood, the people eat
large pieces of it with great relish.

In spite of the endeavours of Mr. Mansur and his relations to render
my stay bearable, or perhaps, indeed, pleasant, according to their ideas,
I was agreeably surprised when Ali came one morning bringing the news
that he had met with a small freight to Sauh-Bulak (seventy miles) a
place which laid on my road.  That same evening I went to the caravansary,
and the next morning, 18th July, was on the road before sunrise.

Mr. Mansur was to the last very hospitable.  He not only gave
me a letter to a Persian living in Sauh-Bulak, but also provided me
with bread for the journey, some melons, cucumbers, and a small bottle
of sour milk.  The latter was particularly acceptable to me, and
I would advise every traveller to remember this nourishing and refreshing
drink.

Sour milk is put into a small bag of thick linen, the watery part
filters through, and the solid part can be taken out with a spoon, and
mixed with water as desired.  In the hot season, indeed, it dries
into cheese on the fourth or fifth day, but this also tastes very well,
and in four or five days you come to places where the supply may be
renewed.

On the first day we passed continually through narrow valleys between
lofty mountains.  The roads were exceedingly bad, and we were frequently
obliged to cross over high mountains to pass from one valley into another. 
These stony valleys were cultivated as much as was possible.  We
halted at Tschomarichen.

19th July.  The road and country was the same as those of yesterday,
except that we had more hilly ground to ascend.  We very nearly
reached the height of the first snow region.

Towards evening, we came to Raid, a miserable place with a half-ruined
citadel.  Scarcely had we encamped, when several well-armed soldiers,
headed by an officer, made their appearance.  They spoke for some
time with Ali, and at last the officer introduced himself to me, took
his place at my side, showed me a written paper, and made several signs. 
As far as I could understand, he meant to say that I was now in Persia,
and that he wanted to see my passport.  However, I did not wish
to take it out of my portmanteau in the presence of the whole of the
villagers, who were already assembled round me, and, therefore, explained
to him that I did not understand him.  With this assurance he left
me, saying to Ali: “What shall I do with her?  She does not
understand me, and may go on further.” {279} 
I do not think that I should have been so leniently dealt with in any
European state!

In almost every village, a great part of the people immediately assembled
round me.  The reader may imagine what a crowd had gathered together
during this discussion.  To be continually stared at in this way
was one of the greatest inconveniences of my journey.  Sometimes
I quite lost my patience, when the women and children pressed round
me, handling my clothes and head.  Although quite alone among them,
I gave them several slight blows with my riding-whip.  This always
had the desired effect; the people either went away altogether or drew
back in a ring.  But here, a boy about sixteen was inclined to
punish my boldness.  As usual, I went to the river to fill my leathern
flask, to wash my hands and face, and bathe my feet.  This boy
slipped after me, picked up a stone, and threatened to throw it at me. 
I dare not, of course, evince any fear; and I went, therefore, quite
composedly into the river.  The stone came flying, although I observed,
by the way in which it was thrown, that he was more desirous of frightening
than hitting me; it was not thrown with force, and fell several feet
away.  After throwing a second and third, he went away; perhaps
because he saw that I did not heed him.

20th July.  Immediately outside Raid, we had to ascend a rather
considerable mountain by a bad and dangerous road, and then came out
upon an extensive elevated plain.  We left the high mountains further
behind, the headlands were covered with short grass, but there was again
a great deficiency of trees.  We met great numbers of herds of
goats and sheep.  The latter were very large, with thick wool and
fat tails; the wool is said to be particularly good and fine.

My apprehensions on this journey were not quite groundless, as it
was seldom that a day passed in undisturbed quiet.  Today, for
instance, a circumstance occurred which frightened me not a little:
our caravan consisted of six men and fourteen pack animals; we were
quietly pursuing our way, when suddenly a troop of mounted men came
dashing down upon us at full gallop.  There were seven well-armed,
and five unarmed.  The former carried lances, sabres, daggers,
knives, pistols, and shields; they were dressed like the common people,
with the exception of the turban, which was wound round with a simple
Persian shawl.  I thought they had been robbers.  They stopped
and surrounded us, and then inquired where we came from, where we were
going to, and what kind of goods we carried?  When they had received
an explanation, they allowed us to go on.  At first I could not
understand the meaning of the proceeding at all; but, as we were stopped
several times in the course of the day in a similar manner, I concluded
that these men were soldiers on duty.

We remained at Coromaduda over night.

21st July.  The roads and prospects very similar to those of
yesterday.  We were again stopped by a troop of soldiers, and this
time the affair seemed likely to be of more consequence.  Ali must
have made some incorrect statements.  They took possession of both
of his pack animals, threw their loads down on the ground, and one of
the soldiers was ordered to lead them away.  Poor Ali begged and
entreated most pitifully.  He pointed to me, and said that everything
belonged to me, and requested that they should have some compassion
with me as a helpless woman.  The soldier turned to me and asked
if it was true.  I did not think it advisable to give myself out
as their owner, and therefore appeared not to understand him, but assumed
an air of great concern and trouble.  Ali, indeed, began to cry. 
Our position would have been most desperate; for, what could we have
done with the goods in this barren uninhabited district without our
animals.  At last, however, the leader of the party relented, sent
after the animals, and returned them to us.

Late in the evening, we reached the little town of Sauh-Bulak. 
As it was not fortified, we could still enter; however, the chans and
bazaars were all closed, and we had much trouble to get the people of
one of the chans to receive us.  It was very spacious and handsome;
in the centre was a basin of water, and round it small merchants’
stalls and several niches for sleeping.  The people—all men—were
mostly retired to rest; only a few remained at their devotions. 
Their astonishment may be imagined when they saw a woman enter with
a guide.  It was too late to give my letter today, and I therefore
seated myself composedly against the luggage, in the belief that I should
have to pass the night so; but a Persian came to me and pointed out
a niche to sleep in, carried my luggage there, and, after a little while,
brought me some bread and water.  The kindness of this man was
the more admirable, as it is known how much the Mahomedans hate the
Christians.  May God reward him for it.  I was truly in want
of this refreshment.

22nd July.  Today I presented my letter, and the Persian merchant
received me with a welcome.  He conducted me to a Christian family,
and promised to make arrangements for the continuation of my journey
as soon as possible.  In this instance, also, the conversation
was carried on more by the means of signs than words.

There were twenty Christian families in this town, who are under
the care of a French missionary and have a very pretty church. 
I looked forward with pleasure to conversing again in a language with
which I was familiar, but learnt that the missionary was on a journey,
so that I was not better off than at Ravandus, as the people with whom
I lived spoke only Persian.

The man, whose trade was that of a carpenter, had a wife, six children,
and an apprentice.  They all lived in the same room, in which they
gave me a place with great readiness.  The whole family were uncommonly
good and obliging towards me, were very open-hearted, and if I bought
fruit, eggs, or anything of the kind, and offered them any, they accepted
it with great modesty.  But it was not only towards myself that
they were so kind, but also towards others; no beggar went away from
their threshold unrelieved; and yet this family was terrible, and made
my stay a complete purgatory.  The mother, a very stupid scolding
woman, bawled and beat her children the whole day.  Ten minutes
did not pass without her dragging her children about by the hair, or
kicking and thumping them.  The children were not slow in returning
it; and, besides that, fought among themselves; so that I had not a
moment’s quiet in my corner, and was not unfrequently in danger
of coming in for my share, for they amused themselves by spitting and
throwing large blocks of wood at each other’s heads.  The
eldest son several times throttled his mother in such a way that she
became black and blue in the face.  I always endeavoured, indeed,
to establish peace; but it was very seldom that I succeeded, as I was
unfortunately not sufficient master of the language to make them understand
the impropriety of their conduct.

It was only in the evening, when the father returned, that there
was any order of peace; they dare not quarrel then, much less fight.

I never met with such conduct among any people—even the poorest
or lowest classes of the so-called heathens or unbelievers; I never
saw their children attempt to strike their parents.  When I left
Sauh-Bulak, I wrote a letter for the missionary, in which I directed
his attention to the failings of this family, and besought him to counteract
them, by teaching them that religion does not consist merely in prayers
and fasts, in bible-reading, and going to church.

My stay here was far less bearable than at Ravandus.  I daily
entreated the Persian merchant to help me to go on further, even if
the journey should be attended with some danger.  He shook his
head and explained to me, that there was no caravan going, and that
if I travelled alone I might expect either to be shot or beheaded.

I bore it for five days, but it was impossible to do so any longer. 
I begged the merchant to hire me a horse and a guide, and made up my
mind at least to go as far as Oromia, fifty miles, in spite of all dangers
or other circumstances.  I knew that I should find American missionaries
there, and that I should then have no more anxiety about proceeding
on further.

The merchant came on the following day, accompanied by a wild-looking
man, whom he introduced to me as my guide.  I was obliged, in consequence
of the danger of travelling without a caravan, to pay four times as
much; but I was willing to accede to anything to be able to get away. 
The bargain was made, and the guide pledged himself to start the next
morning, and to bring me to Oromia in three days.  I paid him half
of the money in advance, and retained the other half until we came to
our journey’s end, so as to be able to fine him in case he did
not keep his agreement.

I was partly glad and partly afraid when the contract was concluded,
and to overcome my apprehensions, I went into the Bazaars, and walked
about outside the town.

This town is situated in a small treeless valley near a range of
hills.  Although I did not wear anything but the isar, I was never
annoyed out of doors.  The bazaars are less beggarly than those
at Ravandus, the chan is large and comfortable.  I found the appearance
of the common people very repulsive.  Tall and strongly built,
with marked features, which were still more disfigured by an expression
of wildness and ferocity, they all appeared to me like robbers or murderers.

In the evening I put my pistols in proper order, and made up my mind
not to sell my life cheaply.

28th July.  Instead of leaving Sauh-Bulak at sunrise, I did
not start until towards mid-day.  I travelled on with my guide
through desolate roads between treeless hills, and trembled involuntarily
when any one met us.  However, thank God, there were no adventures
to go through.  We had to fight indeed, but only with tremendous
swarms of large grasshoppers which flew up in some places in clouds. 
They were about three inches long, and were furnished with large wings
of a red or blue colour.  All the plants and grass in the district
were eaten away.  I was told that the natives catch these grasshoppers
and dry and eat them.  Unluckily I never saw any such dish.

After a ride of seven hours we came to a large fruitful and inhabited
valley.  Today’s journey seemed to promise a favourable termination,
for we were now in an inhabited neighbourhood, and frequently passed
villages.  Some peasants were still working here and there in the
fields, their appearance greatly amused me: they wore the high black
Persian caps, which were comically contrasted with their ragged dress.

We remained in this valley, over night, at the village Mahomed-Jur. 
If I had not been too idle I might have had an excellent meal of turtle. 
I saw several of them on the road by the brooks, and even in the fields,
and had only to pick them up.  But then to hunt for wood, make
a fire, and cook!  No; I preferred eating a crust of bread and
a cucumber in quiet.

29th July.  This morning we reached, in three hours, the village
of Mahomed-Schar.  To my astonishment my driver made preparations
for stopping here.  I urged him to continue the journey, but he
explained to me that he could not go any further without a caravan,
as the most dangerous part of the journey was now before us.  At
the same time he pointed to some dozens of horses in an adjoining stubble
field, and endeavoured to make me understand that in a few hours a caravan
was going our way.  The whole day passed, and the caravan did not
appear.  I thought that my guide was deceiving me; and was exceedingly
irritated when, in the evening, he arranged my mantle on the ground
for me to sleep.  It was now necessary that I should make a strenuous
effort to show the fellow that I would not be treated like a child,
and remain here as long as he thought fit.  Unfortunately I could
not scold him in words, but I picked up the mantle and threw it at his
feet, and explained to him that I would keep the remainder of the fare
if he did not bring me to Oromia to-morrow on the third day.  I
then turned my back to him (one of the greatest slights), seated myself
on the ground, and, resting my head in my hands, gave myself up to the
most melancholy reflections.  What should I have done here if my
guide had left me, or had thought fit to remain until a caravan happened
to pass by.

During my dispute with the guide, some women had come up from the
village.  They brought me some milk and some hot food, seated themselves
by me, and inquired what I was so troubled about.

I endeavoured to explain the whole affair.  They understood
me and took my part.  They were vexed with my guide, and endeavoured
to console me.  They did not stir from me, and pressed me so heartily
to partake of their food, that I found myself compelled to eat some. 
It consisted of bread, eggs, butter, and water, which were boiled up
together.  Notwithstanding my trouble, I enjoyed it very much. 
When I offered the good people a trifle for this meal they would not
take it.  They seemed gratified that I was more at ease.

30th July.  About 1 o’clock at night my guide began to
stir himself, saddled my horse, and called me to mount.  Still
I was at a loss to understand his proceedings, for I saw no signs of
a caravan.  Could he mean to take his revenge on me?  Why
did he travel at night through a country which he ought to have chosen
day-time for?  I did not understand enough Persian to be able to
obtain an explanation, and did not wish to say anything more to the
fellow about not keeping his contract, so I was obliged to go—and
I did go.

With great anxiety I mounted my horse and ordered my guide, who was
inclined to ride behind, to go on in front.  I had no mind to be
attacked from behind, and kept my hand constantly on my pistols. 
I listened to every sound, watched every movement of my guide, even
the shadow of my own horse sometimes scared me; however, I did not turn
back.

After a sharp ride of about half-an-hour, we came up with a large
caravan train, which was guarded by half a dozen well-armed peasants. 
It really appeared that the place was very dangerous, and that my guide
had been acquainted with the passing of a caravan.  Nothing caused
me more surprise on this occasion, than the indolence of these people. 
As they are accustomed to travel in the night during the hot season,
they also continue the custom at other times, and pass through the most
dangerous places, although the danger would be much less during the
day.

After some hours we came to the Lake Oromia, which henceforth continued
on our right side; on the left lay barren hills, ravines and mountains,
extending for some miles, forming a most dreaded place.  Morning
brought us into another beautiful fruitful valley, studded with villages,
the sight of which gave me courage to leave the caravan, and hasten
on.

The Lake Oromia, from which the town takes its name, is more than
sixty miles long, and in many places more than thirty wide.  It
appears closely surrounded by lofty mountains, although considerable
levels intervene.  Its water contains so much salt, that neither
fish nor mollusca can live in it.  It is a second Dead Sea—it
is said that a human body cannot sink in it.  Large patches of
the shore are covered with thick, white saline incrustations, so that
the people have only to separate the salt they want from the ground. 
Although the lake, and the country round it are very beautiful, they
do not present a very attractive prospect, as the surface of the lake
is not enlivened by any boats.

Since I had left the sandy deserts round Baghdad, I had not seen
any camels, and thought that I should not see this animal again, as
I was travelling northwards.  To my astonishment, we met several
trains of camels, and I learnt afterwards, that these animals were used
as beasts of burden by the Kurds, as well as the Arabs.  This is
a proof that they are able to bear a colder climate; for in winter the
snow drifts to a depth of several feet in the valleys.  The camels
in these districts are somewhat more robust, their feet are thicker,
their hair closer and longer, their necks longer, and not nearly so
slender, and their colour darker.  I did not see any light-coloured
ones.

The Kurds of the valleys employ beasts of burden for carrying their
crops, as well as waggons, which are however very simple and clumsy. 
The body is formed of several long thin stems of trees bound together;
the axles of shorter stems, with disks of thick board for wheels, of
which each waggon has generally only two.  Four oxen are yoked
to these, each pair being led by a guide, who sits very oddly on the
shaft between the yoke, with his back towards them.

Late in the evening, we reached Oromia safely, after a hard ride
of more than sixteen hours.  I had no letters to any of the missionaries,
and with the exception of Mr. Wright, they were all absent.  They
lived with their wives and children in the country.  However, Mr.
Wright received me with true Christian friendship, and after many disagreeable
days I again found comfort.

The first evening I laughed heartily when Mr. Wright told me in what
manner the servant had informed him of my arrival.  As I did not
know enough of Persian to be able to tell the servant to announce me,
I merely pointed to the stairs.  He understood this, and went up
to his master, saying that there was a woman below who could not speak
any language.  Afterwards I asked a servant for a glass of water,
in English; he rushed up stairs as if he had been possessed, not, as
I thought, to get what I wanted, but to tell his master that I spoke
English.

Mr. Wright acquainted the other missionaries of my presence, and
they were so good as to come and visit me.  They also invited me
to spend a few days with them in the country, but I accepted their friendly
invitation for one day only, as I had already lost so much time on the
road.  They all advised me not to go any further alone; although
they admitted that the most dangerous part of the journey was past,
and recommended me to take with me some armed peasants when passing
the mountains near Kutschié.

Mr. Wright was so good as to look out for a courageous and trusty
guide.  I paid double fare, in order to reach Tebris in four, instead
of six days.  In order to make the guide think that I was a poor
pilgrim, I gave Mr. Wright the half of the agreed price, and begged
him to pay it instead of myself, and also to say that he would be paid
the other half by Mr. Stevens, the English consul.

I made as good use as possible of the day which I passed at Oromia. 
In the morning I visited the town, and afterwards I visited, with Mrs.
Wright, several rich and poor families, in order to observe their mode
of life.

The town contains 22,000 inhabitants, is surrounded by walls, but
not closed by gates; it is possible to pass in and out at any hour of
the night.  It is built like all Turkish towns, with this exception—that
the streets are rather broad, and kept clean.  Outside the town
are numerous large fruit and vegetable gardens, which are surrounded
by very high walls; pretty dwelling-houses stand in the centre of the
gardens.

The women here go closely veiled.  They cover over their heads
and breast with a white kerchief, in which thick impenetrable network
is inserted, at the places opposite the eyes.

In the houses of the poorer classes two or three families live under
one roof.  They possess little more than straw mats, blankets,
pillows, and a few cooking utensils, not to forget a large wooden box
in which the meal, their chief property, is kept.  Here as everywhere
else where corn is cultivated, bread is the principal food of the common
people.  Every family bake twice daily, morning and evening.

Many of the small houses have very pretty courts, which are planted
with flowers, vines, and shrubs, and looked like gardens.

The dwellings of the wealthy are lofty, airy, and spacious; the reception
rooms have a large number of windows, and are covered with carpets. 
I saw no divans, people always lie upon the carpets.  As we made
the visits without being invited, we found the women in very plain coloured
cotton dresses, of course, made in their own fashion.

In the afternoon I rode with the missionaries to their large country-house,
which is situated about six miles from the town, on some low hills. 
The valley through which we rode was very large, and altogether well
cultivated and delightful.  Although it is said to lie about 4,000
feet above the level of the sea, cotton, castor-oil plants, vines, tobacco,
and every kind of fruit grow here as in South Germany.  The castor-oil
plant, indeed, is not more than four feet high, and the cotton but one
foot; they produce, however, rather abundantly.  Several villages
are half hid in orchards.  I came into this country at a fortunate
time: there were beautiful peaches, apricots, apples, grapes, etc.,
true fruits of my native country, of which I had long been deprived.

The house of the missionary society is most charmingly situated;
it commands a view of the whole valley, the town, the low range of hills,
and the mountains.  The house itself is large, and furnished with
every possible convenience, so that I thought I was in the country-house
of wealthy private people, and not under the roof of simple disciples
of Christ.  There were four women here, and a whole troop of children,
great and small.  I passed several very pleasant hours among them,
and was heartily sorry that I was obliged to take leave of them at 9
in the evening.

Several native girls were also introduced to me who were educated
by the wives of the missionaries.  They spoke and wrote a little
English, and were well acquainted with geography.  I cannot avoid,
on this occasion, making some observations with regard to the missionaries,
whose mode of life and labours I had frequent opportunities of observing
during my journey.  I met with missionaries in Persia, China, and
India, and everywhere found them living in a very different manner to
what I had imagined.

In my opinion the missionaries were almost, if not complete martyrs,
and I thought that they were so absorbed with zeal and the desire to
convert the heathen, that, like the disciples of Christ, quite forgetting
their comforts and necessaries, they dwelt with them under one roof,
and ate from one dish, etc.  Alas! these were pictures and representations
which I had gathered out of books; in reality the case was very different. 
They lead the same kind of life as the wealthy: they have handsome dwellings,
which are fitted up with luxurious furniture, and every convenience. 
They recline upon easy divans, while their wives preside at the tea-table,
and the children attack the cakes and sweetmeats heartily; indeed their
position is pleasanter and freer from care than that of most people;
their occupation is not very laborious, and their income is certain,
whatever may be the national or political condition of their country.

In places where several missionaries reside meetings are held three
or four times a week.  These meetings or assemblies are supposed
to be for the transaction of business; but are not much other than soirées,
at which the ladies and children make their appearance in elegant full
dress.  One missionary receives his friends at breakfast, a second
at dinner, the third at tea, several equipages and a number of servants
stand in the court-yard.

Business is also attended to: the gentleman generally retire for
half an hour or so; but the greater part of the time is passed in mere
social amusement.

I do not think that it can be easy to gain the confidence of the
natives in this way.  Their foreign dress, and elegant mode of
life, make the people feel too strongly the difference of rank, and
inspire them with fear and reserve rather than confidence and love. 
They do not so readily venture to look up to people of wealth or rank,
and the missionaries have consequently to exert themselves for some
time until this timidity is overcome.  The missionaries say that
it is necessary to make this appearance, in order to create an impression
and command respect; but I think that respect may be inspired by noble
conduct, and that virtue will attract men more than external splendour.

Many of the missionaries believe that they might effect a great deal
by preaching and issuing religious tracts in the native language in
the towns and villages.  They give the most attractive report of
the multitude of people who crowd to hear their preaching and receive
their tracts, and it might reasonably be thought that, according to
their representations, at least half of their hearers would become converts
to Christianity; but unfortunately the listening and receiving tracts
is as good as no proof at all.  Would not Chinese, Indian, or Persian
priests have just as great troops of hearers if they appeared in their
respective national costume in England or France, and preached in the
language of those countries?  Would not people flock round them?
would they not receive the tracts given out gratis, even if they could
not read them?

I have made the minutest inquiries in all places respecting the results
of missions, and have always heard that a baptism is one of the greatest
rarities.  The few Christians in India, who here and there form
villages of twenty or thirty families, have resulted principally from
orphan children, who had been adopted and brought up by the missionaries;
but even these require to be supplied with work, and comfortably attended
to, in order to prevent them from falling back into their superstitions.

Preaching and tracts are insufficient to make religious doctrine
understandable, or to shake the superstitions which have been imbibed
in infancy.  Missionaries must live among the people as fathers
or friends, labour with them—in short, share their trials and
pleasures, and draw them towards them by an exemplary and unpretending
mode of life, and gradually instruct them in a way they are capable
of understanding.  They ought not to be married to Europeans for
the following reasons:—European girls who are educated for missionaries
frequently make this their choice only that they be provided for as
soon as possible.  If a young European wife has any children, if
she is weak or delicate, they are then unable to attend any longer to
their calling, and require a change of air, or even a journey to Europe. 
The children also are weak, and must be taken there, at latest in their
seventh year.  Their father accompanies them, and makes use of
this pretext to return to Europe for some time.  If it is not possible
to undertake this journey, they go to some mountainous country, where
it is cooler, or he takes his wife and family to visit a Mela. {287} 
At the same time, it must be remembered that these journeys are not
made in a very simple manner: as mine has been, for instance; the missionary
surrounds himself with numerous conveniences; he has palanquins carried
by men, pack-horses, or camels, with tents, beds, culinary, and table
utensils; servants and maids in sufficient number.  And who pays
for all this?  Frequently poor credulous souls in Europe and North
America, who often deny themselves the necessaries of life, that their
little savings may be squandered in this way in distant parts of the
world.

If the missionaries were married to natives, the greater part of
these expenses and requirements would be unnecessary; there would be
few sick wives, the children would be strong and healthy, and would
not require to be taken to Europe.  Schools might be established
here and there for their education, although not in such a luxurious
manner as those at Calcutta.

I hope that my views may not be misunderstood; I have great respect
for missionaries, and all whom I have known were honourable men, and
good fathers; I am also convinced that there are many learned men among
them, who make valuable contributions to history and philosophy, but
whether they thus fulfil their proper object is another question. 
I should consider that a missionary has other duties than those of a
philosopher.

For my own part, I can only express my obligations to the missionaries;
everywhere they showed me the greatest kindness and attention. 
Their mode of life certainly struck me, because I involuntarily associate
with the name “missionary” those men who at first went out
into the world, without support, to diffuse the doctrines of Christ,
taking nothing with them but a pilgrim’s staff.

Before concluding my description of Oromia, I must remark that this
neighbourhood is considered to be the birth-place of Zoroaster, who
is said to have lived 5,500 years before the birth of Christ, and was
the founder of the sect of Magi, or fire-worshippers.

On the 1st of August, I rode ten hours to the village of Kutschié,
which lies near the Lake Oromia; we seldom caught sight of the lake,
although we were always very near to it all day.  We passed through
large, fertile villages, which would have presented a charming prospect
if they had not been situated between barren and naked hills and mountains.

I had not enjoyed so pleasant a day during the whole journey from
Mósul, or from Baghdad.  My guide was a remarkably good
fellow, very attentive to me, and provided everything carefully when
we reached Kutschié; he took me to a very cleanly peasant’s
cottage, among some excellent people; they immediately laid down a nice
carpet for me on a small terrace, brought me a basin of water to wash,
and a quantity of large black mulberries on a lacquered plate. 
Afterwards I had some strong soup with meat, fat, sour milk, and good
bread, all in clean vessels; but what was better than all, the people
retired as soon as they had set the food before me, and did not stare
at me as if I was a strange animal.  When I offered to pay these
good people, they would not take anything; I had no opportunity of rewarding
them until the following morning, when I took two men of the family
as guard across the mountains, and gave them twice as much as they are
generally paid; they thanked me, with touching cordiality, and wished
me safety and good fortune on my journey.

2nd August.  It occupied three hours to pass the most dangerous
part of these desolate mountains.  My two armed men would not,
indeed, have afforded me much protection against a band of robbers,
although they were the means of making the journey less terrible than
it would have been if I had gone with my old guide alone.  We met
several large caravans, but all going towards Oromia.

When we had crossed the mountains, the two men left us.  We
entered into enormous valleys, which seemed to have been forgotten by
nature, and deserted by man.  In my opinion, we were not in any
degree out of the danger, and I was right; for, as we were passing three
ruined cottages in this barren valley, several fellows rushed out upon
us, laid hold of our horses’ reins, and commenced rummaging my
luggage.  I expected nothing but an order to dismount, and already
saw my little property lost.  They talked with my guide, who told
them the tale which I had imposed upon him—that I was a poor pilgrim,
and that the English consuls or missionaries paid all my travelling
expenses.  My dress, the smallness of my baggage, and being alone,
agreed perfectly with this; they believed him, and my silent supplicative
look, and let me go; they even asked me if I would have some water,
of which there is a scarcity in these villages.  I begged them
for a draught, and so we parted good friends.  Nevertheless I was
for some time fearful that they might repent their generosity and follow
us.

We came to the shores of the lake again today, and continued to travel
for some time at its side.  After a ride of fourteen hours, we
rested at a chan in the village of Schech-Vali.

3rd August.  The oppressive sense of fear was now at an end. 
We passed through peaceful inhabited valleys, where the people were
working in the fields, carrying home corn, tending cattle, etc.

During the hot noon hours we rested at Dise-halil, a rather considerable
town, with very clean streets; the principal street is intersected by
a clear brook, and the court-yards of the houses resemble gardens. 
Here also I saw outside the town a great number of very large gardens
surrounded by high walls.

From the number of chans, this town would appear to be very much
visited.  In the small street through which we passed, I counted
more than half a dozen.  We dismounted at one of them, and I was
quite astonished at the conveniences which I found there.  The
stalls were covered; the sleeping-places for the drivers were on pretty
walled terraces; and the rooms for travellers, although destitute of
all furniture, were very clean, and furnished with stoves.  The
chans were open to every one, and there is nothing to pay for using
them; at the utmost, a small trifle is given to the overseer, who provides
the travellers’ meals.

In this respect, the Persians, Turks, and the so-called uncultivated
people, are much more generous than we are.  In India, for example,
where the English build bungalows, travellers must pay a rupee per night,
or even for an hour, which does not include any provision for the driver
or the animals: they are obliged to take their rest in the open air. 
The travellers who are not Christians are not allowed to come into most
of the bungalows at all; in a few they are admitted, but only when the
rooms are not required by a Christian; if, however, one should arrive
at night, the poor unbeliever is obliged to turn out for him without
pity.  This humane custom extends also to the open bungalows, which
consist only of a roof and three wooden walls.  In the countries
of the unbelievers, however, those who come first have the place, whether
they are Christians, Turks, or Arabs; indeed, I am firmly convinced,
that if all the places were occupied by unbelievers, and a Christian
was to come, they would make room for him.

In the afternoon, we went as far as Ali-Schach, a considerable place,
with a handsome chan.

We here met with three travellers, who were also going to Tebris. 
My guide agreed to travel with them, and that we should start at night. 
Their society was not very agreeable to me, for they were well armed,
and looked very savage.  I should have preferred waiting until
daybreak, and going without them, but my guide assured me that they
were honest people; and trusting more to my good fortune than his word,
I mounted my horse about 1 o’clock at night.

4th August.  I soon lost my fear, for we frequently met small
parties of three or four persons, who would scarcely have ventured to
travel at night if the road had been dangerous.  Large caravans
also, of several hundred camels, passed us and took up the road in such
a way, that we were obliged to wait for half an hour to allow them to
pass.

Towards noon we entered a valley in which lay a town, which was certainly
large, but of such an unpretending appearance, that I did not at once
inquire what was its name.  The nearer we approached the more ruined
it appeared.  The walls were half fallen, the streets and squares
full of heaps of rubbish, and many of the houses were in ruins; it seemed
as if a pestilence or an enemy had destroyed it.  At last I asked
its name, and could hardly believe that I had understood it rightly
when I was told that it was Tebris.

My guide conducted me to the house of Mr. Stevens, the English consul,
who, to my vexation, was not in the town, but ten miles away in the
country.  A servant, however, told me that he would go directly
to a gentleman who could speak English.  In a very short time he
came, and his first questions were: “How did you come here, alone
Have you been robbed?  Have you parted from your company and only
left them in the town?”  But when I gave him my pass, and
explained everything to him, he appeared scarcely to believe me. 
He thought it bordered upon the fabulous that a woman should have succeeded,
without any knowledge of the language, in penetrating through such countries
and such people.  I also could not be too thankful for the evident
protection which Providence had afforded me.  I felt myself as
happy and lively as if I had taken a new lease of my life.

Doctor Cassolani showed me to some rooms in Mr. Stevens’s house,
and said that he would immediately send a messenger to him, and I might
meanwhile make known my wants to him.

When I expressed to him my astonishment at the miserable appearance
and ugly entrance to this town, the second in the country, he told me
that the town could not be well seen from the side at which I came in,
and that the part which I saw was not considered the town, but was chiefly
old and, for the most part, deserted.

CHAPTER XXI.  SOJOURN IN TEBRIS.

DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWN—THE TOWN—PERIOD OF FASTING—BEHMEN
MIRZA—ANECDOTES OF THE PERSIAN GOVERNMENT—INTRODUCTION TO
THE VICEROY AND HIS WIFE—BEHMEN MIRZA’S WIVES—VISIT
TO A PERSIAN LADY—PERSECUTION OF THE LOWER CLASSES, OF THE CHRISTIANS,
AND OF THE JEWS—DEPARTURE.

Tebris, or Tauris, is the capital of the province of Aderbeidschan,
and the residence of the successor to the throne of Persia, who bears
the title of Viceroy.  It is situated in a treeless valley on the
rivers Piatscha and Atschi, and contains 160,000 inhabitants. 
The town is handsomer than Teheran or Ispahan, possesses a number of
silk looms and leather manufactories, and is said to be one of the principal
seats of Asiatic commerce.

The streets are tolerably broad, and are also kept clean, there is
in each an underground water canal with openings at regular intervals
for the purpose of dipping out water.

There is no more to be seen of the houses than in any other Oriental
town.  Lofty walls with low entrances, without windows, and with
the fronts always facing the court-yards, which are planted with flowers
and small trees, and generally adjoining a beautiful garden.  The
reception rooms are large and lofty, with whole rows of windows, forming
a complete wall of glass.  The decoration of the rooms is not elegant,
generally nothing beyond some few carpets; European furniture and articles
of luxury are rare.

There are no handsome mosques, palaces, or monuments, either ancient
or modern, with the exception of the partly ruined mosque of Ali-Schach,
which, however, will not bear comparison in any respect with those in
India.

The new bazaar is very handsome, its lofty, broad covered streets
and passages forcibly called to my remembrance the bazaar at Constantinople;
but it had a more pleasant appearance as it is newer.  The merchant’s
stalls also are larger, and the wares, although not so magnificent and
rich as some travellers represent, are more tastefully displayed and
can be more easily overlooked, especially the carpets, fruits, and vegetables. 
The cookshops also looked very inviting, and the various dishes seemed
so palatable and diffused such a savoury odour, that I could have sat
down with pleasure and partaken of them.  The shoe department,
on the contrary, presented nothing attractive; there were only goods
of the plainest description exposed; while in Constantinople the most
costly shoes and slippers, richly embroidered with gold, and even ornamented
with pearls and precious stones, are to be seen under glass cases.

I had arrived at Tebris at a rather unfavourable time—namely,
the fast month.  From sunrise to sunset nothing is eaten, nobody
leaves the house, there are neither visits nor company—indeed,
nothing but praying.  This ceremony is so strictly observed that
invalids frequently fall victims to it, as they will take neither medicine
nor food during the day; they believe that if they were to eat only
a mouthful, they would forfeit the salvation to be obtained by fasting. 
Many of the more enlightened make an exception to this custom in cases
of illness; however, in such an instance the physician must send a written
declaration to the priest, in which he explains the necessity of taking
medicine and food.  If the priest puts his seal to this document,
pardon is obtained.  I am not aware whether this granting of indulgences
was taken by the Mahomedans from the Christians, or the reverse. 
Girls are obliged to keep these fasts after their tenth year, and boys
after their fifteenth.

It was to the courteousness of Dr. Cassolani, and his intimacy with
some of the principal families in Tebris, that I was indebted for my
introduction to them, and even for my presentation at court, notwithstanding
the strict observance of the fast.

There was no viceroy in Tebris until about six months since, but
only a governor; the present reigning schach, Nesr-I-Din, raised the
province of Aderbeidschan to a vice-royalty, and decreed that every
eldest son of the future inheritor of the empire should reside here
as viceroy until he came to the throne.

The last governor of Tebris, Behmen Mirza, the schach’s brother,
was a remarkably intelligent and just man.  He brought the province
of Aderbeidschan into a flourishing condition in a few years, and everywhere
established order and security.  This soon excited the envy of
the prime minister Haggi-Mirza-Aagassi; he urged the schach to recall
his brother, and represented to him that he would engage the affections
of the people too much, and that he might at last make himself king.

For a long time the schach paid no attention to these insinuations,
for he loved his brother sincerely; but the minister did not rest until
he had attained his wishes.  Behmen Mirza, who knew all that was
going on at court, hastened to Teheran for the purpose of exculpating
himself before the schach.  The latter assured him of his love
and confidence, and told him, candidly, that he might retain his office
if the minister would consent to it, and recommended him to endeavour
to gain his favour.

Behmen Mirza learnt, however, through his friends, that the minister
entertained an inveterate hatred towards him, and that he ran the risk
of being deprived of his sight, or even made away with altogether. 
They advised him to lose no time, but quit the country immediately. 
He followed their advice, returned quickly to Tebris, gathered his valuables
together, and fled with a part of his family to the neighbouring Russian
dominions.  Having arrived there, he appealed to the Emperor of
Russia by letter, soliciting his protection, which was magnanimously
afforded to him.  The emperor wrote to the schach declaring that
the prince was no longer a Persian subject, and that therefore every
persecution of himself or his family must cease; he also provided him
with a pretty palace near Tiflis, sent him costly presents, and, as
I was informed, allowed him a yearly pension of 20,000 ducats.

It may be seen from this circumstance that the minister completely
governed the schach; indeed he succeeded to such an extent, that the
schach honoured him as a prophet, and unconditionally carried out all
his suggestions.  He was, on one occasion, desirous of effecting
some very important object.  He told the schach, at a morning visit,
that he woke in the night and felt himself being carried upwards. 
He went up higher and higher, and finally entered heaven, where he saw
and spoke with the king’s father, who requested him to describe
the government of his son.  The deceased king was greatly rejoiced
to hear of his good conduct, and recommended that he should continue
to go on thus.  The delighted king, who had cordially loved his
father, did not cease from asking further questions, and the artful
minister always contrived to bring in at the end of his answers—“It
was only this or that thing that the father wished to see done,”
and of course the good son fulfilled his father’s wishes, not
for one moment doubting the assertions of his minister.

The king is said to be rather passionate, and when in such a state
of mind, will order the immediate execution of an offender.  The
minister, on the other hand, possesses at least enough sense of justice
to endeavour to stay the sentence of death upon men whom he does not
fear.  He has, therefore, given orders that when such a circumstance
occurs, he is to be sent for immediately, and that the preparations
for the execution are to be delayed until he comes.  He makes his
appearance then as if accidentally, and asks what is going on. 
The enraged sovereign tells him that he is about to have an offender
executed.  The minister agrees with him completely, and steps to
the window to consult the sky, clouds, and sun.  Presently he cries
out that it would be better to postpone the execution until the following
day, as the clouds, sun, or sky at the present moment are not favourable
to it, and that some misfortune to the king might probably result from
it.  In the meanwhile, the king’s rage abates, and he consents
that the condemned should be taken away, and generally, that he shall
be set free; the next morning the whole affair is forgotten.

The following circumstance is also interesting; the king had once
a particular hatred for one of his town governors, and ordered him to
the capital, with the intention of having him strangled.  The minister,
who was a friend of the governor, was desirous of saving him, and did
so in the following manner.  He said to the king, “Sire,
I bid you farewell, I am going to Mecca.”  The king, greatly
grieved at the prospect of losing his favourite for so long (the journey
to Mecca takes at least a year), hastily asked the reason of his making
this journey.  “You know, sire, that I am childless, and
that I have adopted the governor whom you wish to have executed; I shall
then lose my son, and I wish to fetch another from Mecca.” 
The king answered that he knew nothing of this, but as such was the
case he would not have him executed, but allow him to retain his office.

The king has a great affection for his mother.  When she visited
him, he always rose and continued standing, while she sat down. 
The minister was much annoyed at this mark of respect, and said to him,
“You are king, and your mother must stand before you.” 
And he ultimately succeeded according to his wish.  If, however,
the king’s mother comes at a time when the minister is not present,
her son pays her this respect.  He then gives strict orders to
his people not to say anything of it to the minister.

I was told these and other things by a very trustworthy person, and
they may serve to give my readers some slight idea of the system of
government in Persia.

I was presented to the viceroy a few days after my arrival. 
I was conducted one afternoon by Dr. Cassolani to one of the royal summer-houses. 
The house was situated in a small garden, which was surrounded by another
larger one, both enclosed by very high walls.  In the outer garden
there were, besides meadows and fruit trees, nothing deserving of much
notice, except a number of tents, in which the military were encamped. 
The soldiers wore the usual Persian dress, with the single exception
that the officers on duty had a sword, and the soldiers a musket. 
They only appear in uniform on the most rare occasions, and then they
are, in some respects, like European soldiers.

Several eunuchs received us at the entrance of the small garden. 
They conducted us to an unpretending looking house, one story high,
at the end of a field of flowers.  I should never have looked for
the country seat of the successor to the Persian throne in this house;
but such it was.  At the narrow entrance of the little house were
two small flights of stairs, one of which led to the reception-room
of the viceroy, the other to that of his wife.  The doctor entered
the former and several female slaves took me to the viceroy’s
wife.  When I reached the top of the stairs, I took off my shoes,
and entered a small, comfortable room, the walls of which consisted
almost entirely of windows.  The viceroy’s wife, who was
only fifteen years of age, sat upon a plain easy chair, not far from
her stood a middle-aged woman, the duenna of the harem, and an easy
chair was placed for me opposite the princess.

I was fortunate enough to be remarkably well received.  Dr.
Cassolani had described me as an authoress, adding that I intended to
publish the experiences of my journey.  The princess inquired whether
I should mention her also, and when she was answered in the affirmative,
she determined to show herself in full dress, in order to give me an
idea of the gorgeous and costly dress of her country.

The young princess wore trousers of thick silk, which were so full
of plaits that they stood out stiff, like the hooped petticoats of our
good old times.  These trousers are from twenty to five and twenty
yards wide, and reach down to the ankle.  The upper part of the
body was covered as far as the hips by a bodice, which, however, did
not fit close to the body.  The sleeves were long and narrow. 
The corset resembled that of the time of the hooped petticoats; it was
made of thick silk, richly and tastefully embroidered round the corners
with coloured silk and gold.  A very short white silk chemise was
to be seen under the corset.  On her head she wore a three-cornered
white kerchief, extending in front round the face, and fastened under
the chin; behind, it fell down as far as the shoulders.  This kerchief
was also very handsomely embroidered with gold and silk.  The jewellery
consisted of precious stones and pearls of great purity and size; but
they had not much effect, as they were not set in gold, but simply perforated
and strung upon a gold thread, which was fastened above the head kerchief,
and came down under the chin.

The princess had on black silk open-worked gloves, over which were
several finger rings.  Round the wrists sparkled costly bracelets
of precious stones and pearls.  On her feet she wore white silk
stockings.

She was not remarkably beautiful; her cheek bones were rather too
prominent; but altogether her appearance was very attractive. 
Her eyes were large, handsome, and intellectual, her figure pretty,
and her age—fifteen years.

Her face was a very delicate white and red; and the eyebrows were
covered with blue streaks, which, in my opinion, rather disfigured than
adorned them.  On the temple a little of her brilliant black hair
was to be seen.

Our conversation was carried on by signs.  Dr. Cassolani, who
spoke Persian very well, was not allowed to cross the threshold today,
and the princess had received me, consequently, unveiled.  During
this stupid interview, I found time enough to look at the distant view
from the windows.  It was here that I first saw how extensive the
town was, and what an abundance of gardens it possessed.  The latter
are, indeed, its peculiar ornament, for it contains no fine buildings;
and the large valley in which it lies, together with the mountains round,
are naked and barren, and present no attractions.  I expressed
my surprise at the great size of the town and the number of the gardens.

Towards the end of the audience, a quantity of fruits and sweetmeats
were brought, of which, however, I alone partook—it being fast
time.

Leaving the princess, I was conducted to her husband, the viceroy. 
He was seventeen, and received me seated upon an easy chair at a bow-window. 
I had to thank my character of authoress, that a chair was placed ready
for me.  The walls of the large room were panelled with wood, and
ornamented with several mirrors, gilt-work, and oil-paintings of heads
and flowers.  In the middle of the saloon stood two large empty
bedsteads.

The prince wore a European dress: trousers of fine white cloth, with
broad gold lace; a dark blue coat, the collar, facings, and corners
of which were richly embroidered with gold; white silk gloves and stockings. 
His head was covered by a Persian fur cap nearly a yard high. 
This is not, however, his ordinary dress; he is said to change his mode
of dressing oftener than his wife, and sometimes to wear the Persian
costume, sometimes to envelop himself in cashmere shawls, as his fancy
may be.

I should have supposed that he was at least twenty-two.  He
has a pale, tawny complexion, and, altogether, no attractive, amiable,
or intellectual expression; never looks straightforward and openly at
you, and his glance is savage and repulsive.  I pitied, in my mind,
all those who were his subjects.  I would rather be the wife of
a poor peasant than his favourite princess.

The prince put several questions to me, which Dr. Cassolani, who
stood a few paces from us, interpreted.  They were nothing remarkable,
chiefly common-places about my journey.  The prince can read and
write in his mother tongue, and has, as I was told, some idea of geography
and history.  He receives a few European newspapers and periodicals
from which the interpreter has to make extracts, and read to him. 
His opinion of the great revolutions of the time was, that the European
monarchs might have been very good, but they were most remarkably stupid
to allow themselves to be so easily driven from the throne.  He
considered that the result would have been very different if they had
had plenty of people strangled.  As far as regards execution and
punishment, he far exceeds his father; and, unfortunately, has no controlling
minister at his side.  His government is said to be that of a child;
one moment he orders something to be done, and an hour afterwards countermands
it.  But what can be expected from a youth of seventeen, who has
received little or no education; was married at fifteen, and, two years
afterwards, takes the unlimited control of a large province with a revenue
of a million tomans (£500,000), and with every means of gratifying
his desires.

The prince has at present only one regular wife, although he is allowed
to have four; however, he has no scarcity of handsome female friends. 
It is the custom in Persia, that when the king, or the successor to
the throne, hears that any one of his subjects has a handsome daughter
or sister, he demands her.  The parents or relations are greatly
rejoiced at this command, for if the girl is really handsome, she is,
in any case, well provided for.  If, after some time, she no longer
pleases the king or prince, she is married to some minister or rich
man; but, if she has a child, she is immediately considered as the king’s
or prince’s acknowledged wife, and remains permanently at court. 
When, on the contrary, a girl does not please the regent at first sight,
her family are very much disappointed, and consider themselves unfortunate. 
She is, in this case, sent home again immediately, her reputation for
beauty is lost, and she has not, after this, much chance of making a
good match.

The princess is already a mother, but, unfortunately, only of a daughter. 
She is, for the present, the chief wife of the prince, because no other
female has given birth to a son; but whoever brings the first son into
the world will then take her place: she will be honoured as the mother
of the heir to the throne.  In consequence of this custom, the
children are unfortunately liable to the danger of being poisoned; for
any woman who has a child excites the envy of all those who are childless;
and this is more particularly the case when the child is a boy. 
When the princess accompanied her husband to Tebris, she left her little
daughter behind, under the protection of its grandfather, the Schach
of Persia, in order to secure it from her rivals.

When the viceroy rides out, he is preceded by several hundred soldiers. 
They are followed by servants with large sticks, who call upon the people
to bow before the powerful ruler.  The prince is surrounded by
officers, military, and servants, and the procession is closed by more
soldiers.  The prince only is mounted, all the rest are on foot.

The prince’s wives are also permitted to ride out at times,
but they are obliged to be thickly veiled, and entirely surrounded by
eunuchs, several of whom hasten on before, to tell the people that the
wives of the monarch are on the road.  Every one must then leave
the streets, and retire into the houses and bye-lanes.

The wives of the banished prince, Behmen, who were left behind, learnt,
through Dr. Cassolani, that I thought of going to Tiflis.  They
requested me to visit them, that I might be able to tell the prince
that I had seen them and left them well.  The doctor conducted
me into their presence.  He had been the friend and physician of
the prince, who was not one of the fanatic class, and allowed him the
entrée to the females.

Nothing very worthy of notice took place at this visit.  The
house and garden were plain, and the women had wrapped themselves in
large mantles, as the doctor was present, some, indeed, covered a part
of their faces while speaking with him.  Several of them were young,
although they all appeared older than they really were.  One, who
was twenty-two, I should have taken to be at least thirty.  A rather
plump dark beauty of sixteen was also introduced to me as the latest
addition to the harem.  She had been bought at Constantinople only
a short time since.  The women appeared to treat her with great
good-nature; they told me that they took considerable pains to teach
her Persian.

Among the children there was a remarkably beautiful girl of six,
whose pure and delicate countenance was fortunately not yet disfigured
by paint.  This child, as well as the others, was dressed in the
same way as the women; and I remarked that the Persian dress was really,
as I had been told, rather indecorous.  The corset fell back at
every quick movement; the silk or gauze chemise, which scarcely reached
over the breast, dragged up so high that the whole body might be seen
as far as the loins.  I observed the same with the female servants,
who were engaged in making tea or other occupations; every motion disarranged
their dress.

My visit to Haggi-Chefa-Hanoum, one of the principal and most-cultivated
women in Tebris, was far more interesting.  Even at the entrance
of the court-yard and house, the presence of a well-regulating mind
might be perceived.  I had never seen so much cleanliness and taste
in any Oriental house.  I should have taken the court-yard for
the garden, if I had not afterwards seen the latter from the windows. 
The gardens here are, indeed, inferior to ours, but are magnificent
when compared with those at Baghdad.  They have flowers, rows of
vines and shrubs, and between the fruit-trees pleasant basins of water
and luxuriant grass-plots.

The reception-room was very large and lofty; the front and back (of
which the former looked out into the court-yard, the latter into the
garden), consisted of windows, the panes of which were in very small
six and eight-sided pieces, framed in gilded wood; on the door-posts
there was also some gilding.  The floor was covered with carpeting;
and at the place where the mistress of the house sat, another piece
of rich carpet was laid over.  In Persia, there are no divans,
but only thick round pillows for leaning upon.

Intimation had previously been given of my visit.  I found a
large party of women and young girls assembled, who had probably been
attracted here by their curiosity to see a European woman.  Their
dress was costly, like that of the princess, but there was a difference
in the jewellery.  Several among them were very handsome, although
they had rather broad foreheads, and too prominent cheek-bones. 
The most charming features of the Persians are their eyes, which are
remarkable, as well for their size as their beautiful form and animated
expression.  Of course, there was no want of paint on their skins
and eye-brows.

This party of women was the most agreeable and unconstrained that
I ever found in Oriental houses.  I was able to converse in French
with the mistress of the house, by the help of her son, of about eighteen,
who had received an excellent education in Constantinople.  Not
only the son, but also the mother and the other women, were read and
well-informed.  Dr. Cassolani, moreover, assured me that the girls
of rich families could nearly all read and write.  They are, in
this respect, far in advance of the Turks.

The mistress of the house, her son, and myself, sat upon chairs,
the rest squatted down on carpets round us.  A table, the first
that I had seen in a Persian house, was covered with a handsome cloth,
and set out with the most magnificent fruits, sherbets, and various
delicacies, which had been prepared by my host herself; among the sweetmeats
were sugared almonds and fruits, which not only appeared inviting, but
tasted deliciously.

The sweet melons and peaches were just in their prime during my stay
at Tebris.  They were so delicious, that it may well be said Persia
is their native country.  The melons have more frequently a whitish,
or greenish, than a yellow pulp.  They may be eaten entirely, with
the exception of the outermost thin rind; and, if it were possible for
anything to exceed sugar in sweetness, it would be these melons. 
The peaches are also juicy, sweet, and aromatic.

Before leaving Tebris, I must say a few words about the people. 
The complexion of the common men is rather more than sunburnt; among
the upper classes, white is the prevailing colour of the skin. 
They all have black hair and eyes.  Their figures are tall and
powerful, the features very marked—especially the nose—and
the look rather wild.  The women, both of the upper and lower classes,
are uncommonly thickly veiled when they go out.  The better-dressed
men wear, out of doors, a very long mantle of dark cloth with slashed
sleeves, which reach to the ground; a girdle or shawl surrounds their
waist, and their head-dress consists of a pointed black fur cap more
than a foot high, which is made of the skins of unborn sheep. 
The women of the labouring class do not appear to have much to do; during
my journey, I saw only a few at work in the fields, and I noticed also
in the town that all the hard work is done by the men.

In Tebris, as well as throughout the whole of Persia, the Jews, semi-Mahomedans,
and Christians, are intolerably hated.  Three months since, the
Jews and Christians in Tebris were in great danger.  Several crowds
of people gathered together and marched through the quarter where these
people dwelt, when they commenced plundering and destroying the houses,
threatening the inhabitants with death, and, in some cases, even putting
their threats into execution.  Fortunately, this horrible proceeding
was immediately made known to the governor of the town; and he, being
a brave and determined man, lost not a moment’s time even to throw
his kaftan over his house-dress, but hastened out into the midst of
the crowd, and succeeded, by means of a powerful speech, in dispersing
the people.

On arriving at Tebris, I expressed my desire to continue my journey
from here to Tiflis by way of Natschivan and Erivan.  It appeared
at first that there was not much hope of its possibility, as, since
the late political disturbances in Europe, the Russian government, like
the Chinese, had strictly prohibited the entrance of any foreigners;
however, Mr. Stevens promised to make use of all his power with the
Russian consul, Mr. Anitschow, in my favour.  I was indebted to
this, together with my sex and age, for being made an exception. 
I received from the Russian consul not only the permission, but also
several kind letters of introduction to people at Natschivan, Erivan,
and Tiflis.

I was advised to ride from Tebris to Natschivan with post-horses,
and to take a servant with me as far as that place.  I did so,
and commenced my journey at 9 o’clock in the morning of the 11th
of August.  Several gentlemen, whose acquaintance I had made in
Tebris, accompanied me about a mile out of the town, and we encamped
on the bank of a beautiful little river, and partook of a cold breakfast. 
Then I began my journey alone, indeed, but composedly and with good
courage, for now I thought I was entering a Christian country, beneath
the sceptre of a civilized, European, law and order-loving monarch.

CHAPTER XXII.  ASIATIC RUSSIA—ARMENIA, GEORGIA, AND MINGRELIA.

SOPHIA—MARAND—THE RUSSIAN FRONTIER—NATSCHIVAN—JOURNEY
OF THE CARAVAN—A NIGHT’S IMPRISONMENT—CONTINUATION
OF THE JOURNEY—ERIVAN—THE RUSSIAN POST—THE TARTARS—ARRIVAL
IN TIFLIS—SOJOURN THERE—CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNEY—KUTAIS—MARAND—TRIP
ON THE RIBON—REDUTKALE.

11th August.  The stations between Tebris and Natschivan are
very irregular; one of the longest, however, is the first—namely,
to the village of Sophia, which occupied us six hours.  The road
lay through valleys, which were, for the most part, barren and uninhabited.

As it was already 3 o’clock when we reached Sophia, the people
there endeavoured to prevent me from going any further.  They pointed
to the sun, and at the same time signified that I might be attacked
by robbers, plundered, and even murdered; but such statements had no
influence with me; and after I had with great trouble ascertained that
it would only require four hours to reach the next station, I determined
to continue my journey; and to the vexation of my servant, whom I had
engaged as far as Natschivan, ordered him to saddle fresh horses.

Immediately after leaving Sophia, we entered barren, rocky valleys,
which my guide represented as being very dangerous, and which I should
not have liked to pass at night; but as the sun was shining in full
splendour, I urged on my horse, and amused myself by looking at the
beautiful colours and grouping of the rocks.  Some were of a glittering
pale green; others covered with a whitish, half transparent substance;
others again terminated in numerous oddly formed angles, and from the
distance looked like beautiful groups of trees.  There was so much
to see that I really had no time to think of fear.

About half-way lay a pretty little village in a valley, and beyond
it rose a steep mountain, on the summit of which a charming prospect
of mountain country kept me gazing for a long while.

We did not reach Marand till nearly 8 o’clock; but still with
our heads, necks, and baggage, all safe.

Marand lies in a fertile valley, and is the last Persian town which
I saw, and one of the most agreeable and handsome.  It has broad,
clean streets, houses in good repair, and several small squares with
beautiful springs, which are, moreover, surrounded by trees.

My shelter for the night was not so good as the town promised: I
was obliged to share the court with the post-horses.  My supper
consisted of some roasted and very salt eggs.

12th August.  Our journey for today was as far as Arax, on the
Russian frontier.  Although only one stage, it took us eleven hours. 
We followed the course of a small brook, which wound through barren
valleys and ravines; not a single village lay on our road; and with
the exception of some little mills and the ruins of a mosque, I saw
no more buildings in Persia.  Persia is, on the whole, very thinly
populated, on account of the scarcity of water.  No country in
the world has more mountains, and fewer rivers, than Persia.  The
air is, on this account, very dry and hot.

The valley in which Arax is situated is large, and the extraordinary
formation of the mountains and rocks renders it very picturesque. 
In the extreme distance rise lofty mountains, of which Ararat is more
than 16,000 feet in height, and in the valley itself there are numerous
rocky elevations.  The principal of these, a beautiful sharp rocky
cone, of at least 1,000 feet in height, is called the Serpent Mountain.

The river Aras flows close to the headland.  It separates Armenia
from Media, has a terrible fall, and high waves.  It here forms
the boundary between the Russian and Persian dominions.  We crossed
in a boat.  On the opposite side of the river were several small
houses where travellers are obliged to stop and prove that they are
not robbers, and especially that they are not politically dangerous. 
Occasionally they are detained in quarantine for some time, when the
plague or cholera happens to be prevalent in Persia.

A letter from the Russian consul at Tebris ensured me a very courteous
reception; from the quarantine I was saved, as there was no plague or
cholera.  I had, however, scarcely set my foot upon Russian ground,
when the impudent begging for drink-money began.  The officer had
among his people a Cossack, who represented himself as understanding
German, and he was sent to me to ask what I wished for.  The rogue
knew about as much German as I did Chinese—hardly three or four
words.  I therefore signified to him that I did not require his
services, in spite of which he held out his hand, begging for money.

13th August.  I left Arax betimes in the morning, in company
with a customs’ officer, and rode to the town of Natschivan, which
lies in a large valley, surrounded by the lofty mountains of Ararat. 
The country here is fertile, but there are very few trees.

I never had so much trouble to obtain shelter in any place as in
this.  I had two letters, one to a German physician, the other
to the governor.  I did not wish to go to the latter in my travelling
dress, as I was again among cultivated people, who are accustomed to
judge of you by your dress, and there was no inn.  I therefore
intended to ask accommodation in the doctor’s house.  I showed
the address, which was written in the native language, to several people
to read, that they might point out the house to me; but they all shook
their heads, and let me go on.  At last I came to the custom-house,
where my little luggage was immediately taken possession of, and myself
conducted to the inspector.  He spoke a little German, but paid
no regard to my request.  He told me to go into the custom-house,
and unlock my portmanteau.

The inspector’s wife and sister accompanied me.  I was
much astonished at this politeness, but found, however, too soon that
other reasons had induced them to come—both the ladies wished
to see what I had brought with me.  They had chairs brought, and
took their places before my portmanteau, which was opened, when three
pair of hands were thrust in.  A number of papers folded together,
coins, dried flowers, and other objects, obtained from Nineveh, were
instantly seized hold of, and thrown about; every ribbon, every cap,
was taken out; and it was clearly perceptible that the inspector’s
wife had some difficulty in parting with them again.

After this was sufficiently examined, a common box, which contained
my greatest treasure, a small relief from Nineveh, was brought forward. 
One of the men took hold of a heavy wooden axe, for the purpose of striking
off the lid.  This was rather too much for me, and I would not
allow it.  To my great satisfaction, a German woman came in just
at this moment.  I told her what was in the box, and that I did
not object to its being opened, although I wished them to do it carefully
with a chisel and pincers; but, strange to say, there were no such tools
in the place, although they were wanted daily.  I at last succeeded
in persuading them to break off the lid with care.  Notwithstanding
the anxiety I was in, I could not help laughing at the foolish faces
which both the women and the customs’ officer made when they saw
the fragments of brick from Babylon, and the somewhat damaged Ninevite
head.  They could not at all comprehend why I should carry such
objects with me.

The German woman, Henriette Alexandwer, invited me to take coffee
with her; and when she heard of my perplexity with respect to a lodging,
she offered me a room in her house.  On the following day, I visited
the governor, who received me very politely, and overpowered me with
favours,—I was obliged to move into his house directly. 
He attended to my passport, and obtained all the necessary visés,
of which I required half a dozen since entering the Christian dominions,
and made an agreement for me with some Tartars, whose caravan was going
to Tiflis.  I then looked round the miserable half-ruined town
with the good Mrs. Alexandwer, and saw Noah’s monument.

According to Persian accounts, Natschivan is said to have been one
of the largest and handsomest towns of Armenia; and Armenian writers
affirm that Noah was the founder.  The modern town is built quite
in the Oriental style; only a few of the houses have the windows and
doors turned towards the streets; generally the front faces the small
garden.  The dress of the people is also rather like the Persian,
but the officials, merchants, etc., wear European costume.

Nothing more remains of Noah’s sepulchre than a small arched
chamber, without a cupola.  It appears to have been formerly covered
with one, but it is not possible to decide from the few ruins that now
remain.  In the interior, neither a sarcophagus nor grave are to
be seen; a single brick pillar stands in the centre, and supports the
roof.  The whole is surrounded by a low wall.  Many pilgrims
come here, Mahomedans as well as Christians; and both sects entertain
the remarkable belief, that if they press a stone into the wall while
thinking of something at the same time, and the stone remains sticking
to the wall, that their thoughts are either true or will come to pass,
and the reverse when the stone does not adhere.  The truth of the
matter is, however, simply this: the cement or mortar is always rather
moist, and if a smooth stone is pushed a little upwards while being
pressed, it remains hanging; if it is only pressed horizontally, it
falls off again.

Not far from Noah’s tomb stands another very handsome monument;
unfortunately I could not learn to whose memory it was erected, or to
what age it belonged.  It consists of a high building, resembling
a tower with twelve angles; the walls between the angles are covered,
from top to bottom, with the most artistic mathematical figures in triangles
and sexagons, and some places are inlaid with glazed tiles.  The
monument is surrounded by a wall, forming a small court-yard; at the
entrance-gates stand half-ruined towers, like minarets.

17th August.  I felt very unwell today, which was the more unpleasant,
as the caravan started in the evening.  For several days I had
been unable to take any food, and suffered from excessive lassitude. 
Nevertheless I left my rest, and mounted my caravan nag; I thought that
change of air would be the best restorative.

Fortunately we went only a short distance beyond the city gate, and
remained there during the night and the following day.  We did
not proceed any further until the evening of the 18th of August. 
The caravan only conveyed goods, and the drivers were Tartars. 
The journey from Natschivan to Tiflis is generally made in from twelve
to fourteen days; but with my caravan, to judge from the progress we
made at the commencement, it would have occupied six weeks, for on the
first day we went scarcely any distance, and on the second, very little
more than the first; I should have travelled quicker on foot.

19th August.  It is really unbearable.  During the whole
day we lay in waste stubble-fields, exposed to the most scorching heat,
and did not mount our horses until 9 o’clock in the evening; about
an hour afterwards we halted, and encamped.  The only thing good
about this caravan was the food.  The Tartars do not live so frugally
as the Arabs.  Every evening an excellent pillau was made with
good-tasting fat, frequently with dried grapes or plums.  Almost
every day beautiful water and sugar-melons were brought to us to buy. 
The sellers, mostly Tartars, always selected a small lot and offered
it to me as a present.

The road led continually through large, fertile valleys round the
foot of Ararat.  Today I saw the majestic mountain very clearly,
and in tolerable proximity.  I should think we were not more than
two or three miles from it.  It seemed, from its magnitude, as
if separated from the other mountains, and standing alone; but it is
in fact, connected with the chain of Taurus by a low range of hills. 
Its highest summit is divided in such a way that between two peaks there
is a small plain, on which it is said that Noah’s ark was left
after the deluge.  There are people who affirm that it would still
be found there if the snow could be removed.

In the more recent treatises on geography, the height of Ararat is
given as 16,000 feet; in the older ones, as 11,000.  The Persians
and Armenians call this mountain Macis; the Grecian writers describe
it as a part of the Taurus range.  Ararat is quite barren, and
covered above with perpetual snow; lower down lies the cloister, Arakilvank,
at the place where Noah is said to have taken up his first abode.

20th August.  We encamped in the neighbourhood of the village
Gadis.  Many commentators of the Scriptures place the garden of
Eden in the Armenian province of Ararat.  In any case, Armenia
has been the scene of most important events.  Nowhere have so many
bloody battles taken place as in this country, as all the great conquerors
of Asia have brought Armenia under their control.

21st August.  We still continued near Ararat; meanwhile we passed
by Russian and German colonies, the houses in the latter had exactly
the appearance of those in German mountain villages.  The road
was, throughout, very uneven and stony, and I cannot imagine how the
post can travel upon it.

Today I met with another very unpleasant adventure.  My caravan
encamped in the neighbourhood of the station Sidin, about fifty paces
from the side of the post-road.  Towards 8 in the evening I walked
out as far as the road, and as I was about to return I heard the sound
of post-horses coming; I remained in the road to see the travellers,
and noticed a Russian, seated in an open car, and by his side a Cossack,
with a musket.  When the vehicle had passed, I turned quietly round;
but, to my astonishment, heard it stop, and felt myself, almost at the
same moment, seized forcibly by the arms.  It was the Cossack who
held me, and endeavoured to drag me to the car.  I tried to release
myself, pointed to the caravan, and said that I belonged to it. 
The fellow immediately stopped my mouth with his hand, and threw me
into the car, where I was tightly held by the other man.  The Cossack
immediately jumped up, and the driver urged his horses on as quickly
as they could go.  The whole was done so quickly that I scarcely
knew what had happened to me.  The men held me tightly by the arms,
and my mouth was kept covered up until we were so far from the caravan
that the people belonging to it could no longer have heard my cries.

Fortunately I was not frightened; I thought at once that these two
amiable Russians might, in their zeal, have taken me for a very dangerous
person, and have supposed they had made a very important capture. 
When they uncovered my mouth, they commenced questioning me as to my
native country, name, etc.  I understood enough Russian to give
them this information, but they were not satisfied with that, and required
to see my passport; I told them that they must send for my portmanteau,
and then I would show them that I had permission to travel.

We came, at last, to the post-house, where I was taken into a room;
the Cossack placed himself with his musket under the open door, so as
to keep his eye continually on me; and the other man, who, from his
dark-green velvet facings, I supposed to be one of the Emperor’s
officers, remained some time in the room.  At the end of half an
hour, the post-master, or whoever he was, came to examine me, and to
hear an account of the achievements of my captors, who hastened, with
laughing countenances, to give a complete statement of what had happened.

I was obliged to pass the night, under strict guard, upon a wooden
bench, without either a wrapper or a mantle with me, and suffering from
hunger and thirst.  They neither gave me a coverlet nor a piece
of bread; and when I merely rose from the bench to walk up and down
the room, the Cossack rushed in immediately, seized my arms, and led
me back to the bench, telling me, at the same time, that I must remain
there quietly.

Towards morning they brought me my luggage, when I showed them my
papers, and was set at liberty.  Instead, however, of apologizing
for having treated me in such a way, they laughed at me; and when I
came out into the court, every one pointed at me with their fingers,
and joined my gaolers in their laughter.  Oh! you good Turks, Arabs,
Persians, Hindoos, or whatever else you may be called, such treatment
was never shown to me amongst you!  How pleasantly have I always
taken leave of all your countries; how attentively I was treated at
the Persian frontiers, when I would not understand that my passport
was required, and here, in a Christian empire, how much incivility have
I had to bear during this short journey!

On the 22nd of August I rejoined my caravan, where I was received
with cordiality.

23rd August.  The country still presented the same features;
one large valley succeeding another.  These valleys are less cultivated
than those in Persia; today, however, I saw one which was tolerably
well planted, and in which the villagers had even planted trees before
their huts.

24th August.  Station Erivan.  I was happy to have reached
this town, as I hoped to meet with some of my country-people here, and,
by their help, to find a quicker mode of conveyance to Tiflis. 
I was determined to leave the caravan, since we did not go more than
four hours a day.

I had two letters; one to the town physician, the other to the governor. 
The latter was in the country; Dr. Müller, however, received me
so well that I could not possibly have been better taken care of.

Erivan {305}
is situated on the river Zengui, and is the capital of Armenia; it contains
about 17,000 inhabitants, and is built upon low hills, in a large plain,
surrounded on all sides with mountains.  The town has some fortified
walls.  Although the European mode of architecture already begins
to predominate greatly, this town is by no means to be reckoned among
either the handsome or cleanly ones.  I was most amused by the
bazaars, not on account of their contents, for these do not present
any remarkable features, but because I always saw there different, and
for the most part unknown, national costumes.  There were Tartars,
Cossacks, Circassians, Georgians, Mingrelians, Turkonians, Armenians,
etc.; chiefly powerful, handsome people, with fine expressive features—particularly
the Tartars and Circassians.  Their dress partly resembled the
Persian; indeed that of the Tartars differed from it only by points
to the boots, and a less lofty cap.  The points on the boots are
frequently as much as four inches long, and turned inward and towards
the end; the caps are also pointed, and made of black fur, but not more
than half as high.  Very few of the women of these tribes are seen
in the streets, and those are enveloped in wrappers; nevertheless, they
do not veil their faces.

The Russians and the Cossacks have stupid coarse features, and their
behaviour corresponds completely to what their appearance indicates;
I never met with a people so covetous, coarse, and slavish as they are. 
When I asked about anything, they either gave me a surly answer, or
none at all, or else laughed in my face.  This rudeness would not,
perhaps, have appeared so remarkable if I had come from Europe.

It had already been my intention in Natschivan to travel with the
Russian post; but I had been dissuaded from doing so, as I was assured
that, as a solitary woman, I should not be able to agree with the people. 
However, here I was determined to do so, and I requested Dr. Müller
to make the necessary preparations for me.

In order to travel in Russia by the post, it is necessary to procure
a padroschne (certificate of permission), which is only to be had in
a town where there are several grades of officials, as this important
document requires to be taken to six of the number.  1st, to the
treasurer; 2nd, to the police (of course with the passport, certificate
of residence, etc.); 3rd, to the commandant; 4th, again to the police;
5th, again to the treasurer; and 6th, to the police again.  In
the padroschne an accurate account must be given of how far the traveller
wishes to go, as the postmaster dare not proceed a single werst beyond
the station named.  Finally, a half kopec (half kreutzer), must
be paid per werst for each horse.  This at first does not appear
much; but is, nevertheless, a considerable tax, when it is remembered
that seven wersts are only equal to a geographical mile, and that three
horses are always used.

On the 26th of August, about 4 in the morning, the post was to have
been at the house; but it struck 6, and there was still no appearance
of it.  If Dr. Müller had not been so kind as to go there,
I should not have started until the evening.  About 7, I got off—an
excellent foretaste of my future progress.

We travelled certainly with speed; but any one who had not a body
of iron, or a well-cushioned spring carriage, would not find this very
agreeable, and would certainly prefer to travel slower upon these uneven,
bad roads.

The post carriage, for which ten kopecs a station is paid, is nothing
more than a very short, wooden, open car, with four wheels.  Instead
of a seat, some hay is laid in it, and there is just room enough for
a small chest, upon which the driver sits.  These cars naturally
jolt very much.  There is nothing to take hold of, and it requires
some care to avoid being thrown out.  The draught consists of three
horses abreast; over the centre one a wooden arch is fixed, on which
hang two or three bells, which continually made a most disagreeable
noise.  In addition to this, imagine the rattling of the carriage,
and the shouting of the driver, who is always in great activity urging
on the poor animals, and it may be easily understood that, as is often
the case, the carriage arrives at the station without the travellers.

The division of the stations is very irregular, varying from fourteen
to thirty wersti.  Between the second and third stations, I passed
over a very short space of ground, where I found a kind of lava, exactly
resembling the beautiful, brilliant, glassy lava of Iceland (black agate,
also called obsidian), which was stated to be found in that island only. 
The second stage led through a newly-erected Russian village, extending
to Lake Liman.

August 27th.  Today I had another evidence of the pleasure of
travelling by the Russian post.  On the previous evening I had
ordered and paid for everything before-hand; yet I was obliged in the
morning to awaken the post officers myself, as well as to see after
the driver, and to be constantly about among the people, in order to
get away.  At the third station I was kept waiting three hours
for the horses; at the fourth they gave me none, and I was obliged to
stay all night, although I had gone only fifty-five wersti the whole
day.

The character of the country changes before reaching Delischan: the
valleys contract to narrow gorges, and the mountains seldom leave space
for small villages and plots of ground.  The naked masses of rock
cease, and luxuriant woods cover the heights.

Near Pipis, the last stage that I went today, beautiful cliffs and
rocks rose close to the post-road, many of them presenting the appearance
of enormous columns.

August 28th.  Continual trouble with the post people. 
I am the greatest enemy of scolding and harsh treatment; but I should
have best liked to have spoken to these people with a stick.  No
idea can be formed of their stupidity, coarseness, and want of feeling. 
Officers, as well as servants, are frequently found at all hours of
the day sleeping or drunk.  In this state they do as they please,
will not stir from their places, and even laugh in the faces of the
unfortunate travellers.  By the aid of much quarrelling and noise,
one is at last induced to drag out the car, a second to grease it, another
baits the horses, which have often to be harnessed, then the straps
are not in order, and must be first fastened and repaired; and innumerable
other things of this kind, which are done with the greatest tardiness. 
When, afterwards, in the towns I expressed my disapprobation of these
wretched post establishments, I received as answer that these countries
had been too short a time under Russian dominion, that the imperial
city was too far distant, and that I, as a single woman without servants,
might consider myself fortunate in having got through as I had.

I did not know what reply to make to this, except that in the most
recently acquired colonial possessions of the English, which are still
farther from the capital, everything is excellently arranged; and that
there a woman without servants was as quickly attended to as a gentleman,
since they find her money not less acceptable than that of the latter. 
The case is very different, however, at a Russian post station; when
an official or officer comes, every one is active enough, cringing round
the watering-place for fear of flogging or punishment.  Officers
and officials belong, in Russia, to the privileged class, and assume
all kinds of despotism.  If, for example, they do not travel on
duty, they should not, according to the regulations, have any greater
advantages than private travellers.  But, instead of setting a
good example, and showing the mass of the people that the laws and regulations
must be observed, it is precisely these people who set all laws at defiance. 
They send a servant forward or borrow one from their fellow-travellers,
to the station to announce that on such a day they shall arrive, and
will require eight or twelve horses.  If any hindrance occurs during
this time—a hunt or a dinner—or if the wife of the traveller
has a headache or the cramp, they postpone the journey without any ado
to another day or two; the horses stand constantly ready, and the postmaster
dare not venture to give them to private travellers. {308} 
It may so happen that travellers have in such a case to wait one or
even two days at a station, and do not get through their journey quicker
by the post than by a caravan.  In the course of my journey by
the Russian post, I several times went only a single stage during a
whole long day.  When I saw an uniform I was always in dread, and
made up my mind that I should have no horses.

In each post-house, there are one or two rooms for travellers, and
a married Cossack in charge, who, together with his wife, attends to
strangers, and cooks for them.  No charge is made for the room,
the first comer is entitled to it.  These attendants are as obliging
as the stable people, and it is often difficult to procure with money
a few eggs, milk, or anything of the kind.

The journey through Persia was dangerous; that through Asiatic Russia,
however, was so troublesome, that I would prefer the former under any
circumstances.

From Pipis the country again diminishes in beauty: the valleys expand,
the mountains become lower, and both are frequently without trees, and
barren.

I met, today, several nomadic parties of Tartars.  The people
sat upon oxen and horses, and others were loaded with their tents and
household utensils; the cows and sheep, of which there were always a
great number, were driven by the side.  The Tartar women were mostly
richly clothed, and also very ragged.  Their dress consisted almost
entirely of deep red silk, which was often even embroidered with gold. 
They wore wide trousers, a long kaftan, and a shorter one over that;
on the head a kind of bee-hive, called schaube, made of the bark
of trees, painted red and ornamented with tinsel, coral, and small coins. 
From the breast to the girdle their clothes were also covered with similar
things, over the shoulders hung a cord with an amulet in the nose, they
wore small rings.  They had large wrappers thrown round them; but
left their faces uncovered.

Their household goods consisted of tents, handsome rugs, iron pots,
copper coins, etc.  The Tartars are mostly of the Mahomedan religion.

The permanent Tartars have very peculiar dwellings, which may be
called enormous mole-hills.  Their villages are chiefly situated
on declivities, and hills, in which they dig holes of the size of spacious
rooms.  The light falls only through the entrance, or outlet. 
This is broader than it is high, and is protected by a long and broad
portico of planks, resting either upon beams or the stems of trees. 
Nothing is more comical than to see such a village, consisting of nothing
but these porticoes, and neither windows, doors, nor walls.

Those who dwell in the plains make artificial mounds of earth, and
build their huts of stone or wood.  They then throw earth over
them, which they stamp down tightly, so that the huts themselves cannot
be seen at all.  Until within the last sixty years, it is said
that many such dwellings were to be seen in the town of Tiflis.

29th August.  This morning I had still one stage of twenty-four
wersti ere I reached Tiflis.  The road was, as everywhere else,
full of holes, ruts and stones.  I was obliged always to tie a
handkerchief tightly round my head, to ease the jolting; and still,
I was every day attacked with headache.  Today, however, I learnt
the full nuisance of these carriages.  It had rained, not only
during the whole night, but still continued so.  The wheels threw
up such masses of mud, that I soon sat in a thick puddle, I was covered
even over the head, and my face did not escape.  Small boards hanging
over the wheels would have easily remedied this inconvenience; but none
trouble themselves in this country about the comfort of travellers.

Tiflis comes in sight during the latter half of the stage. 
The prospect of the town charmed me much; as, with the exception of
a few church towers, it was built in the European style; and, since
Valparaiso, I had not seen any town resembling the European.  Tiflis
contains 50,000 inhabitants, it is the capital of Georgia, {309}
and is situated tolerably near the mountains.  Many of the houses
are built on hills, on high steep rocks.  From some of the hills
there is a beautiful view of the town and valley.  The latter,
at the time of my visit, was not very attractive, as the harvest had
deprived it of all the charms of colour; there were also but few gardens,
etc.  On the other hand, the river Kurry (generally called Cyrus)
winds in graceful curves through the town and valley, and in the far
distance sparkle the snow-crowned summits of the Caucasus.  A strong
citadel, Naraklea, is situated upon steep rocks, immediately before
the town.

The houses are large, and tastefully ornamented with façades
and columns, and covered with sheet iron or bricks.  The Erivanski
Place is very handsome.  Among the buildings the Palace of the
governor, the Greek and Armenian seminaries, and several barracks are
conspicuous.  The large theatre, in the centre of the Erivanski
Place, was not then finished.  It is evident that the old town
must give place to the new one.  Everywhere houses are being pulled
down, and new ones built; the narrow streets will soon only be known
by tradition, and the only remains of the Oriental architecture, are
the Greek and Armenian houses.  The churches are far inferior in
splendour and magnitude to the other buildings; the towers are low,
round, and generally covered with green glazed tiles.  The oldest
Christian church stands upon a high rock in the fortress, and is used
only for the prisoners.

The bazaars and chan present no features worthy of notice; moreover,
there are already here, as in all European towns, shops and stores in
all the streets.  Several wide bridges are thrown over the Kurry. 
The town contains numerous warm sulphuretted springs, from which, indeed,
it derives its name: Tiflis or Ibilissi, meaning “warm town.” 
Unfortunately, the greater number of the many baths are in the worst
condition.  The buildings, within which the springs are enclosed,
are surmounted by small cupolas with windows.  The reservoirs,
the floor, and walls, are for the most part covered with large stone
slabs; very little marble is to be seen.  There are private and
public baths, and men are not allowed to enter the buildings where the
women assemble; however, they are not nearly so strict here as in the
East.  The gentleman who was so kind as to accompany me to one
of these baths, was permitted to come into the anteroom, although it
was separated from the bathing-place only by a simple wooden partition.

Not far from the baths lies the Botanic Garden, which has been laid
out, at great expense, on the declivity of a mountain.  The terraces,
which had to be artificially cut, are supported by masonry and filled
with earth.  Why such an unsuitable place was chosen I cannot imagine;
the less so as I saw only a few rare plants and shrubs, and everywhere
nothing but grape-vines; I fancied myself in a vineyard.  The most
remarkable things in this garden are two vine-stocks, whose stems were
each a foot in diameter.  They are so extended in groves and long
rows that they form pleasant walks.  More than a thousand flasks
of wine are annually obtained from these two vines.

A large grotto has been excavated in one of the upper terraces whose
whole front side is open, and forms a high-arched hall.  In the
fine summer evenings there is music, dancing, and even theatrical performances.

On Sundays and festivals the pretty gardens of the governor are opened
to the public.  There are swings and winding-paths, and two bands
of music.  The music executed by the Russian military was not so
good as that which I heard by the blacks in Rio Janeiro.

When I visited the Armenian Church, the corpse of a child had just
been laid out.  It was in a costly open bier, covered with red
velvet and richly ornamented with gold lace.  The corpse was strewed
over with flowers, decorated with a crown, and covered with fine white
gauze.  The priests, in sumptuous robes, conducted the funeral
ceremonies, which were very similar to the Catholic.  The poor
mother, at whose side I accidentally happened to kneel, sobbed loudly
when preparations were made to carry away the dear remains.  I
also could not restrain my tears: I wept not for the death of the child,
but for the deep grief of the afflicted parent.

Leaving this place of mourning, I visited some Greek and Armenian
families.  I was received in spacious rooms, which were fitted
up in the most simple manner.  Along the walls stood painted wooden
benches partly covered with rugs.  On these benches the people
sit, eat, and sleep.  The women wear Grecian dresses.

European and Asiatic costumes are seen so frequently together in
the streets, that neither the one nor the other appears peculiar. 
The greatest novelty to me, in this respect, was the Circassian dress. 
It consists of wide trousers, short coats full of folds, with narrow
sashes, and breast pockets for from six to ten cartridges; tight half-boots,
with points turned inwards, and close-fitting fur caps.  The more
wealthy wore coats of fine dark-blue cloth, and the edges were ornamented
with silver.

The Circassians are distinguished from all other Caucasian people
by their beauty.  The men are tall, have very regular features
and great ease in their motions.  The women are of a more delicate
build; their skin is whiter, their hair dark, their features regular,
their figures slender, with their busts well developed: in the Turkish
harems they are considered the greatest beauties.  I must confess,
however, that I have seen many handsomer women in the Persian harems
than in the Turkish, even when they contained Circassians.

The Asiatic women, when in the streets here, wrap themselves in large
white mantles; many cover the mouth as well, and some few the remainder
of the face.

Of the domestic life of the Russian officials and officers I cannot
say much.  I had, indeed, a letter to the chancellor director,
Herr von Lille, and to the governor, Herr von Jermaloff; but both gentlemen
were not much pleased with me—my free expression of opinion, perhaps,
did not suit them.  I made no scruple of speaking my mind with
regard to the ill-regulated posting establishments, and the miserable
roads.  I, moreover, related my imprisonment, with a few comments;
and, what crowned all, I said that I had intended to have gone on from
here across the Caucasus to Moscow and Petersburgh, but that I had been
completely deterred from doing so by my short experience of travelling
in the country, and would take the shortest road to get beyond the frontier
as soon as possible.  If I had been a man and had spoken so, I
should probably have been treated with a temporary residence in Siberia.

Herr von Lille, however, always received me with politeness when
I called on him for the purpose of having my passport prepared. 
The governor did not treat me with a like consideration; first he put
me off from one day to another, then it pleased the mighty man to pass
two days in the country.  When he came back, it was a Sunday; on
which day such a great work could not possibly be done, and so I did
not obtain my passport until the sixth day.

Thus it fared with me, who was provided with letters to the chief
officers,—how do poor people come off?  I heard, indeed,
that they are often kept waiting two or three weeks.

The viceroy, Prince Woronzou, was unfortunately not in Tiflis at
the time.  I regretted his absence the more, as I everywhere heard
him represented as an educated, just, and extremely amiable man.

Far pleasanter than these visits to the Russian governor was that
to the Persian Prince Behmen Mirza, to whom I brought letters and intelligence
from his family, who were remaining in Tebris.  Although he was
ill at the time, nevertheless he received me.  I was conducted
into a large saloon, a complete hospital for eight sick persons: the
prince, four of his children, and three wives, laid there upon rugs
and cushions.  They all suffered from fever.  The prince was
a remarkably handsome and powerful man of five and thirty; his full
eyes were expressive of intelligence and goodness.  He spoke with
great regret of his fatherland; a smile of painful delight played round
his features when I mentioned his children, {312}
and related how safely and well I had travelled through those provinces
which, but a short time before, had been under his control.  What
a happiness would it be for Persia if such a man as this was to come
to the throne instead of the young viceroy.

The most interesting, and, at the same time, useful acquaintance
which I made was that of Herr Salzmann, a German.  This gentleman
possesses considerable knowledge of agriculture, and more than all,
a singularly good heart; he interests himself for all kinds of people,
and more especially his own countrymen.  Wherever I mentioned his
name, people spoke of him with true respect.  He had just received
a decoration from the Russian government, although he was not in their
service.

Herr Salzmann has built a very handsome house, with every possible
convenience for the reception of travellers; besides this he owns a
large fruit-garden, ten wersti distant from the town, in the neighbourhood
of which are some naphtha springs.  When he found that I wished
to see these he immediately invited me to join a party to visit them. 
The springs are situated very near to the Kurry.  Square pits,
about twenty-five fathoms deep, are dug, and the naphtha is dipped out
by means of wooden buckets.  This naphtha, however, is of the commonest
kind, of a dark brown colour, and thicker than oil.  Asphalte,
cart-grease, etc., are made from it.  The fine white naphtha, which
can be used for lighting and fuel, is peculiar to the Caspian Sea.

A walk to the Chapel of David, which lies upon a hill immediately
in front of the town, repays the trouble.  Besides the lovely country,
there is to be seen here a fine monument erected in memory of the Russian
ambassador, Gribojetof, who was murdered in Persia on the occasion of
a revolt.  A cross, at the foot of which lies his mourning wife,
is very artistically cast in metal.

On Monday, the 5th of September, I received my passport, about 11
o’clock; I ordered the post carriage an hour afterwards. 
Herr Salzmann proposed that I should visit some German settlements,
which were situated at about ten or twenty wersti from Tiflis, and offered
to accompany me there; but I had not much inclination to do so, more
particularly as I had heard everywhere that the settlers had already
much degenerated, and that idleness, fraud, dirt, drunkenness, etc.,
was not less frequent among them than in the Russian colonies.

I left Tiflis about 3 in the afternoon.  Just outside the town
stands, by the roadside, a cross cast in metal, with the eye of Providence
upon a pedestal of polished granite, surrounded by an iron railing. 
An inscription states that, on the 12th of October, in the year 1837,
his imperial majesty was upset here, but that he had escaped without
injury.  “Erected by his grateful subjects.”

This incident appears, therefore, to have been one of the most remarkable
in the life of this powerful ruler, as it has been commemorated by a
monument.  It has, certainly, not been erected without the approval
of the emperor.  I am by no means certain which is the most to
be wondered at, the people who placed it here, or the monarch who permitted
it.

I went only one stage today, but it was so long, that I had to continue
my journey into the evening.  To go any further was not to be thought
of, as the country, not only here, but in the greater part of this province,
is so unsafe that it is impossible to travel in the evening or night
without the protection of Cossacks, for which purpose a small company
is placed at each station.

The scenery was rather agreeable; pretty hills enclosed pleasant
looking valleys, and on the tops of some mountains stood ruins of castles
and fortified places.  There were times in the history of this
kingdom as well as the German when one noble made war upon the others,
and no man was safe of his life and property.  The nobles lived
in fortified castles upon hills and mountains, went out mailed and harnessed
like knights, and when threatened by hostile attacks, their subjects
fled to the castles.  There are still said to be people who wear,
either over or under the clothes, shirts of mail, and helmets instead
of caps.  I did not, however, see anything of the kind.  The
river Kurry continued to run along by our road.  Not far from the
station a long handsome bridge led across, but it was so awkwardly placed
that it was necessary to go out of the way a whole werst to reach it.

6th September.  The journey became still more romantic. 
Bushes and woods covered the hills and valleys, and the tall-stemmed,
rich, green Turkish corn waved in the fields.  There were also
numbers of old castles and fortresses.  Towards evening, after
having with great exertion travelled four stages, I reached the little
town of Gory, whose situation was exceedingly charming.  Wooded
mountains surrounded it in wide circles, while nearer at hand rose pretty
groups of hills.  Nearly in the centre of the mass of houses a
hill was to be seen, whose summit was crowned by a citadel.  The
little town possesses some pretty churches, private houses, barracks,
and a neat hospital.  Both towns and villages here lose the Oriental
character entirely.

When the atmosphere is clear the Caucasian mountains are to be seen
rising in three ranges between the Caspian and Black seas, forming the
boundary between Asia and Europe.  The highest points are the Elberus
and the Kasbeck; these, according to a new geography, are of the respective
heights of 16,800 and 14,000 feet.  The mountains were covered
with snow far down their sides.

7th September.  Today I travelled one stage as far as Suram:
I could not proceed any further, as twelve horses were ordered for an
officer who was returning from a bathing-place, with his wife and friends.

Suram lies in a fruitful valley, in the centre of which rises a beautiful
mountain with the ruins of an old castle.  In order to dispel my
bad humour I took a walk to this old castle.  Although it was considerably
ruined, the lofty arches, stately walls, and extensive fortifications
showed that the noble knight had lived tolerably sumptuously. 
On the return nothing astonished me more than the number of animals
yoked to the ploughs.  The fields lay in the finest plains, the
ground was loose and free from stones, and yet each plough was drawn
by twelve or fourteen oxen.

8th September.  The mountains drew nearer and nearer together,
the prospect became more beautiful; climbing plants, wild hops, vines,
etc., twined round the trees to their highest branches, and the underwood
grew so thick and luxuriantly, that it called to my mind the vegetation
of the Brazils.

The third stage was for the greater part of the way along the banks
of the river Mirabka through a narrow valley.  The road between
the river and the mountain side was so narrow, that in many places there
was only room for one carriage.  We had frequently to wait ten
or twenty minutes to allow the cars loaded with wood, of which we met
a great number, to pass us, and yet this was called a post-road.

Georgia has been for fifty year under Russian dominion, and only
within a recent time have roads been commenced here and there. 
Fifty years hence, they may, perhaps, be finished, or fallen again into
decay.  Bridges are as scarce as roads.  The rivers, such
as the Mirabka are crossed in miserable ferry boats, those which are
shallower must be forded.  In time of rain, or sudden thaw in the
snow mountains, the rivers are overflowed, and travellers must then
either wait some days or risk their lives.  What a tremendous difference
between the colonies of Russia and England!

Late in the evening, I arrived, wet through and covered with mud,
at the station, two wersti from Kutais.  It is remarkable that
the post-houses are generally one or two wersti from the villages or
towns.  A traveller, in consequence of this custom, is exposed
to the inconvenience of making a special journey if he has anything
to attend to in those places.

9th September.  Kutais contains 10,000 inhabitants, and lies
in a natural park; all round is the most luxuriant vegetation. 
The houses are neat and ornamental; the green painted church towers
and barracks peep invitingly from between.  The large river Ribon
{314} separates
the town from the large citadel which very picturesquely occupies a
neighbouring hill.

The dresses of the people are as various as round Tiflis; the headgear
of the Mingrelian peasants appears truly comic.  They wear round
black felt caps, in the shape of a plate, fastened by a string under
the chin.  The women frequently wear the Tartarian schaube, over
which they throw a veil, which, however, is put back so that the face
is seen.  The men wear, in the mornings, and in rainy weather,
large black collars (called burki) of sheep’s wool, or felt, which
reach below the knees.  I must here mention that the beauty for
which the Georgians are so famous must not be sought for among the common
people.  I did not find them particularly handsome.

The carts which the peasants use are remarkable, the front part rests
upon curved pieces of wood, or sledge-bars; the hinder part upon two
small thick discs of wood.

My stay in Kutais was caused by the want of horses; it was not till
2 o’clock in the afternoon that I could continue my journey. 
I had two stages to reach the village of Marand, which lies on the river
Ribon, where the post-cars are changed for a boat, by which the journey
to Redutkale, on the Black Sea, is made.

The first stage passes chiefly through fine woods, the second presents
an open view over fields and meadows; the houses and huts are quite
buried beneath bushes and trees.  We met a number of peasants who,
although they had only a few fowls, eggs, fruits, etc., to carry to
the town for sale, were nevertheless on horseback.  There was abundance
of grass and willow trees, and consequently of horses and horned cattle.

At Marand I stopped, for want of an inn, with a Cossack.  These
people, who also live here as settlers, have pretty wooden cottages,
with two or three rooms, and a piece of land which they use as field
and garden.  Some of them receive travellers, and know how to charge
enough for the miserable accommodation they afford.  I paid twenty
kopecs (8d.) for a dirty room without a bed, and as much for a chicken. 
Beyond that I had nothing, for the people are too lazy to fetch what
they have not by them.  If I wanted bread, or anything that my
hosts had not got, I might seek for it myself.  As I have said
before, it is only for an officer that they will make any exertion.

I had left Tiflis about 3 in the afternoon of the 5th of September,
and reached this place in the evening of the 9th, five days to travel
274 wersti (195 miles).  I call that a respectable Russian post!

The boat did not start for Redutkale, a distance of eighty wersti,
until the morning of the 11th.  It was bad weather; and the Ribon,
otherwise a fine river, cannot be navigated during a strong wind, on
account of the projecting trunks of trees and logs.  The scenery
still continued beautiful and picturesque.  The stream flows between
woods, maize, and millet fields, and the view extends over hills and
mountains to the distant and gigantic Caucasus.  Their singular
forms, peaks, sunken plateaus, split domes, etc. appear sometimes on
the right, sometimes on the left, in front, and behind, according to
the ever-changing windings of the river.  We frequently halted
and landed, every one running to the trees.  Grapes and figs were
abundant, but the former were as sour as vinegar, and the latter hard
and small.  I found a single one ripe, and that I threw away when
I had tasted it.  The fig-trees were of a size such as I had never
seen, either in India or Sicily.  I believe the whole sap is here
converted into wood and leaves.  In the same way, the great height
of the vines may be the cause of the grapes being so small and bad. 
There must certainly be a great field for improved cultivation here.

12th September.  Our boat did not go far.  There was a
smart breeze, and as we were already near the Black Sea, we were obliged
to remain at anchor.

13th September.  The wind had dropped, and we could, without
danger, trust ourselves on the sea, upon which we had to sail for some
hours, from the principal arm of the Ribon to that on which Redutkale
was situated.  There was indeed a canal leading from the one to
the other, but it can only be passed at very high water, as it is much
filled with drift sand.

In Redutkale, a speculating Cossack host also received me, who had
three little rooms for guests.

According to the Russian calendar, this was the last day of August. 
On the 1st of September, the steamer was to come, and sail again after
two hours.  I therefore hastened to the commandant of the town
to have my passport signed, and to request admittance to the ship. 
Government steamers ply twice every month, on the 1st and 15th, from
Redutkale to Odessa, by way of Kertsch.  Sailing vessels rarely
offer an opportunity of passage.  These steamers always keep close
into the coast; they touch at eighteen stations (fortresses and military
posts), carry military transports of all kinds, and convey all passengers
free.  Travellers must, however, be content with a deck place:
the cabins are few, and belong to the crew and higher officers, who
frequently travel from one station to another.  No places can be
had by paying for them.

The commandant prepared my passport and ticket directly.  I
cannot avoid remarking in this place that the prolixity of writing by
the Russian government officials far exceeds that of the Austrians,
which I had formerly considered impossible.  Instead of a simple
signature, I received a large written sheet, of which several copies
were taken, the whole ceremony occupying more than half an hour.

The steamer did not arrive until the 5th (Russian calendar). 
Nothing is more tedious than to wait from hour to hour for a conveyance,
especially when it is necessary, in addition, to be ready to start at
any moment.  Every morning I packed up.  I did not venture
to cook a fowl or anything else, for fear I should be called away from
it as soon as ready; and it was not until the evening that I felt a
little safer, and could walk out a little.

From what I could see of the neighbourhood of Redutkale and Mingrelia
altogether, the country is plentifully furnished with hills and mountains,
large valleys lie between, and the whole are covered with rich woods. 
The air is on that account moist and unhealthy, and it rains very frequently. 
The rising sun draws up such dense vapours, that they float like impenetrable
clouds, four or five feet above the earth.  These vapours are said
to be the cause of many diseases, especially fever and dropsy. 
In addition to this, the people are so foolish as to build their houses
in among the bushes and under thick trees, instead of in open, airy,
and sunny places.  Villages are frequently passed, and scarcely
a house is to be seen.  The men are remarkably idle and stupid;
they are tawny and lean.  The natives seldom reach the age of sixty;
and it is said that the climate is even more unhealthy for strangers.

Still I believe that much might be done in this country by industrious
settlers and agriculturists.  There is abundance of land, and three-fourths
of it certainly lies uncultivated.  By thinning the woods and draining
the land, the badness of the climate would be lessened.  It is
already, even without cultivation, very fruitful; and how much this
might be increased by a proper and rational mode of treatment. 
Rich grass grows everywhere, mixed with the best herbs and clover. 
Fruit grows wild; the vines run up to the tops of the highest trees. 
It is said that in time of rain the ground is so soft, that only wooden
ploughs are used.  Turkish corn is most generally grown, and a
kind of millet, called gom.

The inhabitants prepare the wine in the most simple manner. 
They hollow out the trunk of a tree, and tread the grapes in it; they
then pour the juice into earthen vessels, and bury these in the ground.

The character of the Mingrelians is said to be altogether bad, and
they are generally looked upon as thieves and robbers; murders are said
not to be unfrequent.  They carry off one another’s wives,
and are much addicted to drunkenness.  The father trains the children
to stealing, and the mother to obscenity.

Colchis or Mingrelia lies at the end of the Black Sea, and towards
the north on the Caucasian mountains.  The neighbouring people
were formerly known under the name of Huns and Alani.  The Amazons
are said to have dwelt in the country between the Caucasus and the Caspian
Sea.

The little town of Redutkale may contain about 1,500 inhabitants. 
The men are so indolent that, during the five days that I passed here,
I could not procure a few grapes or figs for love or money.  I
went daily to the bazaar, and never found any for sale.  The people
are too lazy to bring wood from the forest; they work only when the
greatest necessity compels them, and require to be paid exorbitantly. 
I paid as much, if not more, for eggs, milk, and bread as I would have
done in Vienna.  It might well be said that the people are here
in the midst of plenty, and yet almost starve.

I was not better pleased by the thoughtless and meaningless performance
of religious ceremonies among these people.  On all occasions,
they cross themselves before eating or drinking, before entering a room,
before putting on an article of clothing, etc.  The hands have
nothing else to do but to make crosses.  But the most provoking
thing of all is, that they stand still before every church they pass,
bow half a dozen times, and cross themselves without end.  When
they are travelling, they stop their carriages to perform this ceremony.

While I was at Redutkale a vessel sailed.  The priests were
brought on board, and were obliged to go all over the ship, and pronounce
a blessing upon it on every corner of the sails.  They crept into
every cabin or hole, and at last blessed the sailors, who laughed at
them for their trouble.

I constantly found that there was less real religion in those places
where there was the most parade made of it.

CHAPTER XXIII.  EUROPEAN RUSSIA.

DEPARTURE FROM REDUTKALE—ATTACK OF CHOLERA—ANAPKA—SUSPICIOUS
SHIP—KERTSCH—THE MUSEUM—TUMULI—CONTINUATION
OF THE JOURNEY—THEODOSIA (CAFFA)—PRINCE WORONZOFF’S
PALACE—THE FORTRESS OF SEWASTOPOL—ODESSA.

On the 17th of September, at 9 in the morning, the steamer arrived,
and an hour afterwards I was seated on the deck.  The vessel was
called Maladetz; it was 140 horse power, and the commandant’s
name was Zorin.

The distance from Redutkale to Kertsch is only 420 miles in a straight
line, but for us, who continually kept close to the shore, it amounted
to nearly 580.

The view of the Caucasus—the hills and headlands—the
rich and luxuriant country remains fresh in my memory to this day. 
In a charming valley lies the village Gallansur, the first station,
at which we stopped for a short time.

Towards 6 o’clock in the evening, we reached the fortified
town Sahun, which lies partly on the shore, and partly on a broad hill. 
Here I saw, for the first time, Cossacks in full uniform; all those
I had previously seen were very badly dressed, and had no military appearance;
they wore loose linen trousers, and long ugly coats, reaching down to
their heels.  These, however, wore close-fitting spencers with
breast-pockets, each of which was divided for eight cartridges, wide
trousers, which sat in folds upon the upper part of the body, and dark
blue cloth caps, trimmed with fur.  They rowed a staff officer
to the ship.

18th September.  We remained the whole day in Sahun.  The
coal-boats, from some inconceivable negligence, had not arrived; the
coals were taken on board after we had been some time at anchor, and
our supply was not completed until 6 o’clock in the evening, when
we again started.

19th September.  During the night there was much storm and rain. 
I begged permission to seat myself on the cabin steps, which I received;
but, after a few minutes, an order came from the commandant to take
me under cover.  I was much surprised and pleased at this politeness,
but I was soon undeceived when I was led into the large sailors’
cabin.  The people smelt horribly of brandy, and some of them had
evidently taken too much.  I hastened back on to the deck, where,
in spite of the raging of the elements, I felt more comfortable than
among these well-bred Christians.

In the course of the day we stopped at Bambur, Pizunta, Gagri, Adlar,
and other places.  Near Bambur I observed majestic groups of rocks.

20th September.  The Caucasian mountains were now out of sight,
and the thick woods were also succeeded by wide open spaces.  We
were still troubled with wind, storm, and rain.

The engineer of the ship, an Englishman, Mr. Platt, had accidentally
heard of my journey (perhaps from my passport, which I had to give up
on entering the ship); he introduced himself to me today, and offered
me the use of his cabin during the day-time; he also spoke to one of
the officers for me, and succeeded in obtaining a cabin for me, which,
although it joined the sailors’ cabin, was separated from it by
a door.  I was very thankful to both the gentlemen for their kindness,
which was the greater, as the preference was given to me, a stranger,
over the Russian officers, of whom at least half a dozen were on deck.

We remained a long time at Sissassé.  This is an important
station; there is a fine fortress upon a hill—round it stand pretty
wooden houses.

21st September.  This was a terrible night!  One of the
sailors, who was healthy and well the day before, and had taken his
supper with a good appetite, was suddenly attacked with cholera. 
The cries of the poor fellow disturbed me greatly, and I went upon deck,
but the heavy rain and piercing cold were not less terrible.  I
had nothing but my mantle, which was soon wet through; my teeth chattered;
the frost made me shake throughout; so there was nothing to be done
but to go below again—to stop my ears, and remain close to the
dying man.  He was, in spite of all help, a corpse before the end
of eight hours.  The dead body was landed in the morning, at Bschada;
it was packed in a heap of sail-cloth, and kept secret from the travellers. 
The cabin was thoroughly washed with vinegar, and scoured, and no one
else was attacked.

I did not at all wonder that there was sickness on board, only I
had expected it would be among the poor soldiers, who were day and night
upon the deck, and had no further food than dry, black bread, and had
not even mantles or covering; I saw many half-frozen from cold, dripping
with rain, gnawing a piece of bread: how much greater suffering must
they have to undergo in the winter time!  The passage from Redutkale
to Kertsch, I was told, then frequently occupied twenty days. 
The sea is so rough that it is difficult to reach the stations, and
sometimes the ship lies for days opposite them.  If it should happen
that a poor soldier has to proceed the whole distance, it is really
a wonder that he should reach the place of his destination alive. 
According to the Russian system, however, the common man is not worthy
of any consideration.

The sailors are indeed better, but, nevertheless, not well provided
for; they receive bread and spirits, a very small quantity of meat,
and a soup made of sour cabbage, called bartsch, twice a day.

The number of officers, their wives, and soldiers on the deck, increased
at every station, very few being landed from the ship.

The deck was soon so covered with furniture, chests, and trunks,
that there was scarcely a place to sit down, except on the top of a
pile of goods.  I never saw such an encampment on board a ship.

In fine weather, this life afforded me much amusement; there was
always something new to see; every one was animated and happy, and appeared
to belong to the same family; but if a heavy rain came on suddenly,
or a wave washed over the deck, the passengers began to shout and cry,
and the contents of every chest became public.  One cried, “How
shall I shelter my sugar-loaves?” another, “Oh, my meal
will be spoiled.”  There a woman complained that her bonnet
would be full of spots; here, another, that the uniform of her husband
would certainly be injured.

At some of the smaller stations, we had taken on board sick soldiers,
in order to carry them to the hospital at Kertsch.  This was done,
as I was told, less on account of nursing them than as a measure of
safety.  The former they would have received at the place they
came from; but all the small villages between Redutkale and Anapka are
still frequently disturbed by the Circassian-Tartars, who undauntedly
break out from the mountains and rob and murder.  Very lately they
were reported to have fired a cannon at one of the government steamers. 
The Circassians {320a}
are as partial to the Russians as the Chinese are to the English!

The poor invalids were also laid on the deck, and but little attention
was shown to them, beyond stretching a sail-cloth over them, to keep
the wind partially off; but when it rained heavily, the water ran in
on all sides, so that they lay half in the wet.

22nd September.  We saw the handsome town and fortress Nowa
Russiska, which contains some very pretty private houses, hospitals,
barracks, and a fine church.  The town and fortress lie upon a
hill, and were founded only ten years since.

In the evening, we reached Anapka, which place was taken by the Turks
in 1829.  Here the finely wooded mountains and hills, and the somewhat
desolate steppes {320b}
of the Crimea commence.

In the course of the day I had an opportunity of observing the watchfulness
and penetration of our commandant.  A sailing-vessel was quietly
at anchor in a small creek.  The commandant, perceiving it, immediately
ordered the steamer to stop, ordered out a boat, and sent an officer
to see what it was doing there.  So far everything had gone correctly;
for in Russia, where the limits of every foreign fly is known, what
a whole ship is about, must also be seen to.  But now comes the
comical part of the affair.  The officer went near the ship, but
did not board it, and did not ask for the ship’s papers, but merely
called out to the captain to know what he was about there?  The
captain answered that contrary winds had compelled him to anchor there,
and that he waited for a favourable one to sail to this place and that. 
This answer satisfied the officer and the commandant completely. 
To me it seemed just as if any one was asked whether he was an honourable
man or a rogue, and then trusted to his honour when he gave himself
a good character.

23rd September.  Another bad night; nothing but wind and rain. 
How I pitied the poor, sick fellows, and even those who were well, exposed
to this weather on the deck.

Towards noon we arrived at Kertsch; the town can be seen very well
from the sea, as it stretches out in a semi-circle on the shore, and
rises a little up the hill Mithridates {321},
which lies behind.  Higher up the hill is the museum, in the style
of a Grecian temple—circular, and surrounded with columns. 
The summit of the mountain ends in a fine group of rocks, between which
stand some obelisks and monuments, which belong to the old burial-place. 
The country round is a steppe, covered with artificial earth-mounds,
which make the graves of a very remote period.  Besides the Mithridates,
there is no hill or mountain to be seen.

Kertsch lies partly on the spot where Pantikapäum formerly stood. 
It is now included in the government of Tauria; it is fortified, has
a safe harbour, and rather considerable commerce.  The population
amounts to 12,000.  The town contains many fine houses, which are
chiefly of modern date; the streets are broad, and furnished with raised
pavements for foot passengers.  There is much gaiety in the two
squares on Sundays and festivals.  A market of every possible thing,
but especially provisions, is held there.  The extraordinary vulgarity
and rudeness of the common people struck me greatly; on all sides I
heard only abuse, shouting, and cursing.  To my astonishment I
saw dromedaries yoked to many loaded carts.

The Mithridates is 500 feet high, and beautiful flights of stone
steps and winding paths lead up its sides, forming the only walks of
the towns’ people.  This hill must formerly have been used
by the ancients as a burial-place, for everywhere, if the earth is only
scraped away, small narrow sarcophagi, consisting of four stone slabs,
are found.  The view from the top is extensive, but tame; on three
sides a treeless steppe, whose monotony is broken only by innumerable
tumuli; and on the fourth side, the sea.  The sight of that is
everywhere fine, and here the more so, as one sea joins another, namely,
the Black Sea and the Sea of Asoph.

There was a tolerable number of ships in the roads, but very far
short of four or six hundred, as the statements in the newspapers gave
out, and as I had hoped to see.

On my return, I visited the Museum, which consists of a single apartment. 
It contains a few curiosities from the tumuli, but everything handsome
and costly that was found was taken to the Museum at St. Petersburgh. 
The remains of sculptures, bas-reliefs, sarcophagi, and epitaphs are
very much decayed.  What remains of the statues indicates a high
state of art.  The most important thing in the Museum is a sarcophagus
of white marble, which, although much dilapidated, is still very beautiful. 
The exterior is full with fine reliefs, especially on one side, where
a figure, in the form of an angel, is represented holding two garlands
of fruit together over its head.  On the lid of the sarcophagus
are two figures in a reclining posture.  The heads are wanting;
but all the other parts, the bodies, their position, and the draping
of the garments, are executed in a masterly manner.

Another sarcophagus of wood, shows great perfection in the carving
and turning of the wood.

A collection of earthen jars, water jugs and lamps, called to my
mind those in the museum at Naples.  The jars, burnt and painted
brown, have a form similar to those discovered at Herculaneum and Pompeii. 
The water jugs are furnished with two ears, and are so pointed at the
bottom, that they will not stand unless rested against something. 
This form of vessel is still used in Persia.  Among other glass-ware,
there were some flasks which consisted almost entirely of long necks,
bracelets, rings and necklaces of gold; some small four-cornered embossed
sheets, which were worn either on the head or chest, and some crowns,
made of laurel wreaths, were very elegant.  There were chains and
cauldrons in copper, and ugly grotesque faces and ornaments of various
kinds, which were probably fixed on the exterior of the houses. 
I saw some coins which were remarkably well stamped.

I had now to visit the tumuli.  I sought long and in vain for
a guide: very few strangers come to this place, and there are consequently
no regular guides.  At last there was nothing left for me but to
apply to the Austrian Vice-consul, Herr Nicolits.  This gentleman
was not only willing to comply with my wish, but was even so obliging
as to accompany me himself.

The tumuli are monuments of an entirely peculiar character; they
consist of a passage about sixty feet long, fourteen broad, and twenty-five
high, and a very small chamber at the end of the passage.  The
walls of the passage are sloping, like the roof of a house, and contract
so much at the top, that at the utmost one foot is left between. 
They are built of long and very thick stone slabs, which are placed
over each other in such a way that the upper row projects about six
or seven inches beyond the under one.  Upon the opening at the
top are placed massive slabs of stone.  Looking down from the entrance,
the walls appear as if fluted.  The room, which is a lengthened
quadrangle, is spanned by a small arched roof, and is built in the same
manner as the passage.  After the sarcophagus was deposited in
the room, the whole monument was covered with earth.

The fine marble sarcophagus which is in the Museum, was taken from
a tumulus which was situated near the quarantine house, and is considered
to be that of King Bentik.

The greater number of the monuments were opened by the Turks; the
remainder were uncovered by the Russian government.  Many of the
bodies were found ornamented with jewels and crowns of leaves, like
those in the Museum; an abundance of coins was also found.

The 26th of September was a great festival among the Russians, who
celebrated the finding of the cross.  The people brought bread,
pastry, fruit, etc., to the church, by way of sacrifice.  The whole
of these things were laid up in one corner.  After the service,
the priest blessed them, gave some few morsels to the beggars round
him, and had the remainder packed into a large basket and sent to his
house.

In the afternoon, nearly the whole of the people went to the burial-ground. 
The common people took provisions with them, which were also blessed
by the priests, but were hastily consumed by the owners.

I saw only a few people in the Russian dress.  This consists,
both for men and women, of long wide blue cloth coats; the men wear
low felt hats, with broad brims, and have their hair cut even all round;
the women bind small silk kerchiefs round their heads.

Before finishing my account of Kertsch, I must mention that there
are naphtha springs in the neighbourhood; but I did not visit them,
as they were described to me as precisely similar to those at Tiflis.

The next part of my journey was to Odessa.  I could go either
by sea or land.  The latter was said to present many objects of
beauty and interest; but I preferred the former, as I had in the first
place no great admiration of the Russian post; and, secondly, I was
heartily anxious to turn my back upon the Russian frontiers.

On the 27th of September, at 8 in the morning, I went on board the
Russian steamer Dargo, of 100 horse power.  The distance from Odessa
to Constantinople amounts to 420 miles.  The vessel was handsome
and very clean, and the fare very moderate.  I paid for the second
cabin thirteen silver roubles, or twenty florins fifty kreutzers (£2
1s.  4d.)  The only thing which did not please me in the Russian
steamer, was the too great attention of the steward who, as I was told,
pays for his office.  All the travellers are compelled to take
their meals with him, the poor deck passengers not excepted, who have
often to pay him their last kopecs.

About afternoon we came to Feodosia (Caffa), which was formerly the
largest and most important town in the Crimea, and was called the second
Constantinople.  It was at the height of its prosperity about the
end of the fifteenth century, under the dominion of Genueser. 
Its population at that time is said to have been upwards of 200,000. 
It has now declined to a minor town, with 5,000 inhabitants.

Half-ruined fortification walls and towers of the time of Genueser
remain, as well as a fine mosque, which has been turned into a Christian
church by the Russians.

The town lies upon a large bay of the Black Sea, on the declivity
of barren hills.  Pretty gardens between the houses form the only
vegetation to be seen.

28th September.  We stopped this morning at Jalta, a very small
village, containing 500 inhabitants, and a handsome church founded by
the Prince Woronzoff.  It is built in pure Gothic style, and stands
upon a hill outside of the village.  The country is again delightful
here, and beautiful hills and mountains, partly covered with fine woods,
partly rising in steep precipices, extend close to the sea-shore.

The steamer stayed twenty-four hours at Jalta.  I took advantage
of the time to make an excursion to Alupka, one of the estates of Prince
Woronzoff, famous for a castle which is considered one of the curiosities
of the Crimea.  The road to it passed over low ranges of hills
close to the sea through a true natural park, which had here and there
been embellished by the help of art.  The most elegant castles
and country-houses belonging to the Russian nobles are seated between
woods and groves, gardens and vineyards, in open spaces on hills and
declivities.  The whole prospect is so charming, that it appears
as if prosperity, happiness, and peace, only reigned here.

The first villa which attracted me was that of Count Leo Potocki. 
The building is extremely tasteful.  The gardens were laid out
with art and sumptuousness.  The situation is delightful, with
an extensive view of the sea and neighbourhood.

A second magnificent building, which, however, is more remarkable
for magnitude than beauty of construction, lies near the sea-shore. 
It resembles an ordinary square house with several stories; and, as
I was informed, was built as a country bathing-place of the emperor,
but had not yet been made use of.  This castle is called Oriander.

Far handsomer than this palace was the charming country-house of
Prince Mirzewsky.  It is seated on a hill, in the centre of a magnificent
park, and affords a delightful view of the mountains and sea. 
The principal front is Gothic.

The villa of Prince Gallizin is built entirely in the Gothic style. 
The pointed windows, and two towers of which, decorated with a cross,
give to it the appearance of a church, and the beholder involuntarily
looks for the town to which this gorgeous building belongs.

This place lies nearly at the extremity of the fine country. 
From here the trees are replaced by dwarf bushes, and finally by brambles;
the velvety-green turf is succeeded by stony ground, and steep rocks
rise behind, at the foot of which lie a quantity of fallen fragments.

Even here very pretty seats are to be seen; but they are entirely
artificial, and want the charm of nature.

After travelling about thirteen wersti, the road winds round a stony
hill, and the castle of Prince Woronzoff comes in sight in its entire
extent.  The appearance of it is not by any means so fine as I
had imagined.  The castle is built entirely of stone, of the same
colour as the neighbouring rocks.  If a large park surrounded the
castle, it would stand out more prominently, and the beauty and magnificence
of its architecture would be better shown.  There is, indeed, a
well laid out garden, but it is yet new and not very extensive. 
The head gardener, Herr Kebach (a German), is a master in his art; he
well knows how to manage the naked barren land, so that it will bear
not only the ordinary trees, plants, and flowers, but even the choicest
exotic plants.

The castle is built in the Gothic style, and is full of towers, pinnacles,
and buttresses, such as are seen in similar well preserved buildings
of olden time.  The principal front is turned towards the sea. 
Two lions, in Carrara marble, artistically sculptured, lie in comfortable
ease at the top of the majestic flight of steps which lead from the
castle far down to the sea-shore.

The interior arrangement of the castle reminded me of the “Arabian
Nights;” every costly thing from all parts of the world, such
as fine woods and choice works of art, is to be seen here in the greatest
perfection and splendour.  There are state apartments in Oriental,
Chinese, Persian, and European styles; and, above all, a garden saloon,
which is quite unique, for it not only contains the finest and rarest
flowers but even the tallest trees.  Palms, with their rich leafy
crowns, extend to a great height, climbing plants cover the walls, and
on all sides are flowers and blossoms.  The most delightful odour
diffused itself through the air, cushioned divans stood half-buried
under the floating leaves; in fact, everything combined to produce the
most magical impression upon the senses.

The owner of this fairy palace was unfortunately absent at a fête
on a neighbouring estate.  I had letters to him, and should have
been glad to have made his acquaintance, as I had heard him spoken of
here, both by rich and poor, as a most noble, just and generous man. 
I was, indeed, persuaded to wait his return, but I could not accept
this offer, as I should have had to wait eight days for the arrival
of the next steamer, and my time was already very limited.

In the neighbourhood of the castle is a Tartar village, of which
there are many in the Crimea.  The houses are remarkable for their
flat earth roofs, which are more used by the inhabitants than the interior
of the huts; as the climate is mild and fine they pass the whole day
at their work on the roofs, and at night sleep there.  The dress
of the men differs somewhat from that of the Russian peasants, the women
dress in the Oriental fashion, and have their faces uncovered.

I never saw such admirably planted and clean vineyards as here. 
The grapes are very sweet, and of a good flavour; the wine light and
good, and perfectly suited for making champagne, which indeed is sometimes
done.  I was told that more than a hundred kinds of grapes are
grown in the gardens of Prince Woronzoff.

When I returned to Jalta, I was obliged to wait more than two hours,
as the gentlemen with whom I was to go on board had not yet finished
their carouse.  At last, when they broke up, one of them, an officer
of the steamer, was so much intoxicated that he could not walk. 
Two of his companions and the landlord dragged him to the shore. 
The jolly-boat of the steamer was indeed there, but the sailors refused
to take us, as the jolly-boat was ordered for the captain.  We
were obliged to hire a boat, for which each had to pay twenty kopecs
(8d.)  The gentlemen knew that I did not speak Russian but they
did not think I partially understood the language.  I, however,
overheard one of them say to the other “I have no change with
me, let us leave the woman to pay.”  Upon this the other
turned round to me, and said in French, “The share that you have
to pay is twenty silver kopecs.”  These were gentlemen who
made pretensions to honesty and honour.

29th September.  Today we stopped at the strong and beautiful
fortress Sewastopol.  The works are partly situated at the entrance
of the harbour, and partly in the harbour itself; they are executed
in massive stone, and possess a number of towers and outworks which
defend the entrance to the harbour.  The harbour itself is almost
entirely surrounded by hills, and is one of the safest and most excellent
in the world.  It can hold the largest fleets, and is so deep that
the most gigantic men-of-war can lie at anchor close to the quays. 
Sluices, docks and quays have been constructed in unlimited splendour
and magnificence.  The whole of the works were not quite finished,
and there was an unparalleled activity apparent.  Thousands of
men were busy on all sides.  Among the workmen I was shown many
of the captured Polish nobles who had been sent here as a punishment
for their attempt, in 1831, to shake of the Russian yoke.

The works of the fortress and the barracks are so large that they
will hold about 30,000 men.

The town itself is modern, and stands upon a range of barren hills. 
The most attractive among the buildings is the Greek church, as it stands
quite alone on a hill, and is built in the style of a Grecian temple. 
The library is situated on the highest ground.  There is also an
open-columned hall near the club, with stone steps leading to the sea-shore,
which serves as the most convenient passage to the town for those who
land here.  A Gothic monument to the memory of Captain Cozar, who
distinguished himself greatly at the battle of Navarino, and was killed
there, does not less excite the curiosity of the traveller.  Like
the church, it stands alone upon a hill.

The streets here, as in all the new Russian towns, are broad and
clean.

30th September.  Early in the morning we reached Odessa. 
The town looks very well from the sea.  It stands high; and consequently
many of the large and truly fine buildings can be seen at one glance. 
Among these are the Palace of Prince Woronzoff, the Exchange, the government
offices, several large barracks, the quarantine buildings, and many
fine private houses.  Although the surrounding country is flat
and barren, the number of gardens and avenues in the town give it a
pleasant appearance.  In the harbour was a perfect forest of masts. 
By far the greater number of ships do not lie here, but in the quarantine
harbour.  Most of the ships come from the Turkish shore, and are
obliged to pass through a quarantine of fourteen days, whether they
have illness on board or not.

Odessa, the chief town of the government of Cherson, is, from its
situation on the Black Sea, and at the mouth of the Dniester and Dnieper,
one of the most important places of commerce in South Russia. 
It contains 50,000 inhabitants, was founded in 1794, and declared a
free port in 1817.  A fine citadel entirely commands the harbour.

The Duke of Richelieu contributed most to the advancement of Odessa;
for after having made several campaigns against his native country (France)
in an emigrant corps, he went to Russia; and in 1803 was made governor-general
of Cherson.  He filled this post until 1814, during which time
he brought the town to its present position.  When he was appointed
it contained scarcely 5,000 inhabitants.  One of the finest streets
bears the name of the duke, and several squares are also named in honour
of him.

I remained only two days in Odessa.  On the third I started
by the steamer for Constantinople.  I went through the town and
suburbs in every direction.  The finest part lies towards the sea,
especially the boulevard, which is furnished with fine avenues of trees,
and offers a delightful promenade; a life-size statue of the Duke Richelieu
forms a fine ornament to it.  Broad flights of stone steps lead
from here down to the sea-shore; and in the background are rows of handsome
palaces and houses.  The most remarkable among them are the Government
House, the Hotel St. Petersburgh, and the Palace of Prince Woronzoff,
built in the Italian style, with a tasteful garden adjoining. 
At the opposite end of the boulevard is the Exchange, also built in
the Italian style, and surrounded by a garden.  Not far from this
is the Academy of Arts, a rather mediocre one-story building. 
The Theatre, with a fine portico, promises much outside, but is nothing
great within.  Next to the theatre is the Palais Royal, which consists
of a pretty garden, round which are ranged large handsome shops, filled
with costly goods.  Many articles are also hung out, but the arrangement
is not near so tasteful as is the case in Vienna or Hamburgh.

Among the churches the Russian cathedral is the most striking. 
It has a lofty arched nave and a fine dome.  The nave rests upon
strong columns covered with brilliant white plaster, which looks like
marble.  The decorations of the churches with pictures, lamps,
and lustres, etc., is rich but not artistic.  This was the first
church in which I found stoves, and really it was quite necessary that
these should be used, the difference of temperature between this place
and Jalta was very considerable for the short distance.

A second Russian church stands in the new bazaar; it has a large
dome surrounded by four smaller ones, and has a very fine appearance
from the exterior; inside it is small and plain.

The Catholic church, not yet quite finished, vies in point of architecture
with the Russian cathedral.

The streets are all broad, handsome, and regular, it is almost impossible
to lose your way in this town.  In every street there are fine
large houses, and this is the case even in the most remote parts as
well.

In the interior of the town lies the so-called “crown garden,”
which is not, indeed, very large or handsome, but still affords some
amusement, as great numbers of people assemble here on Sundays, and
festivals, and a very good band of music plays here in summer under
a tent; in winter the performances take place in a plain room.

The botanic garden, three wersti from the town, has few exotic plants,
and is much neglected.  The autumn changes, which I again saw here
for the first time for some years, made a truly sad impression upon
me.  I could almost have envied the people who live in hot climates,
although the heat is very troublesome.

The German language is understood by almost all but the lowest orders
in Odessa.

On leaving the Russian dominions I had as much trouble with the passport
regulations as on entering.  The passport which was obtained on
entering must be changed for another for which two silver roubles are
paid.  Besides this, the traveller’s name has to be three
times printed in the newspaper, so that if he has debts, his creditors
may know of his departure.  With these delays it takes at least
eight days, frequently, however, two or three weeks to get away; it
is not, however, necessary to wait for these forms, if the traveller
provides security.

The Austrian Consul, Herr Gutenthal, answered for me, and I was thus
able to bid adieu to Russia on the 2nd of October.  That I did
this with a light heart it is not necessary for me to assure my readers.

CHAPTER XXIV.  CONSTANTINOPLE AND ATHENS.

CONSTANTINOPLE—CHANGES—TWO FIRES—VOYAGE TO GREECE—QUARANTINE
AT ÆGINA—A DAY IN ATHENS—CALAMACHI—THE ISTHMUS—PATRAS—CORFU.

Little can be said of the passage from Odessa to Constantinople;
we continued out at sea and did not land anywhere.  The distance
is 420 miles.  The ship belonged to the Russian government, it
was named Odessa, was of 260 horse power, and was handsome, clean, and
neat.

In order that my parting with my dear friends, the Russians, might
not be too much regretted, one of them was so good at the end of the
passage as to behave in a manner that was far from polite.  During
the last night which was very mild and warm, I went out of the close
cabin on to the deck, and placed myself not far from the compass-box,
where I soon began to sleep, wrapt in my mantle.  One of the sailors
came, and giving me a kick with his foot, told me to leave the place. 
I thanked him quietly for the delicate way in which he expressed himself,
and requesting him to leave me at peace, continued to sleep.

Among the passengers were six English sailors, who had taken a new
ship to Odessa, and were returning home.  I spoke with them several
times, and had soon quite won them.  As they perceived that I was
without any companion, they asked me if I spoke enough Turkish to be
able to get what I wanted from the ship’s people and porters. 
On my answering that I did, they offered to manage everything for me
if I would go on shore with them.  I willingly accepted their offer.

As we approached land a customs’ officer came on board to examine
our luggage.  In order to avoid delay I gave him some money. 
When we landed I wanted to pay, but the English sailors would not allow
it; they said I had paid for the customs’ officer, and it was
therefore their time to pay for the boat.  I saw that I should
only have affronted them if I had pressed them further to receive the
money.  They settled with the porter for me, and we parted good
friends.  How different was the behaviour of these English sailors
from that of the three well-bred Russian gentlemen at Jalta!

The passage into the Bosphorus, as well as the objects of interest
in Constantinople, I have already described in my journey to the Holy
Land.  I went immediately to my good friend Mrs. Balbiani; but,
to my regret, found that she was not in Constantinople; she had given
up her hotel.  I was recommended to the hotel “Aux Quatre
Nations,” kept by Madame Prust.  She was a talkative French
woman, who was always singing the praises of her housekeeping, servants,
cookery, etc., in which, however, none of the travellers agreed with
her.  She charged forty piasters (8s.), and put down a good round
sum in the bill for servants’ fees and such like.

Since my last stay here a handsome new wooden bridge had been erected
over the Golden Horn, and the women did not seem to be so thickly veiled
as on my first visit to Constantinople.  Many of them wore such
delicately woven veils that their faces could almost be seen through
them: others had only the forehead and chin covered, and left their
eyes, nose, and cheeks exposed.

The suburb of Pera looked very desolate.  There had been a number
of fires, which were increased by two during my stay; they were called
“small,” as by the first only a hundred and thirty shops,
houses, and cottages, and by the second, only thirty were burned to
the ground.  They are accustomed to reckon the number destroyed
by thousands.

The first fire broke out in the evening as we were seated at table. 
One of the guests offered to accompany me to see it, as he thought I
should be interested by the sight if I had not seen such a one before. 
The scene of the fire was rather distant from our house, but we had
scarcely gone a hundred steps when we found ourselves in a great crowd
of people, who all carried paper lanterns, {330a}
by which the streets were lighted.  Every one was shouting and
rushing wildly about; the inhabitants of the houses threw open their
windows and inquired of the passers by the extent of the danger, and
gazed with anxiety and trembling at the reflection of the flames in
the sky.  Every now and then sounded the shrill cry of “Guarda!
guarda!” (take care) of the people, who carried small fire-engines
{330b} and buckets
of water on their shoulders, and knocked everything over that was in
their way.  Mounted and foot soldiers and watchmen rushed about,
and Pashas rode down with their attendants to urge the people on in
extinguishing the fire, and to render them assistance.  Unfortunately
almost all these labours are fruitless.  The fire takes such hold
of the wooden buildings painted with oil colours, and spreads with such
incredible rapidity that it is stopped only by open spaces or gardens. 
One fire often destroys several thousand houses.  The unfortunate
inhabitants have scarce time to save themselves; those who live some
distance off hastily pack their effects together and hold themselves
prepared for flight at any moment.  It may easily be supposed that
thieves are not rare on such occasions, and it too often happens that
the few things the poor people have saved are torn away from them in
the bustle and confusion.

The second fire broke out in the following night.  Every one
had retired to sleep, but the fire-watch rushed through the street,
knocking with his iron-mounted staff at the doors of the houses and
waking the people.  I sprang terrified out of bed, ran to the window,
and saw in the direction of the fire a faint red light in the sky. 
In a few hours the noise and redness ceased.  They have at last
begun to build stone houses, not only in Pera but also in Constantinople.

I left Constantinople on the evening of the 7th of October, by the
French steamer Scamander, one hundred and sixty-horse power.

The passage from Constantinople to Smyrna, and through the Greek
Archipelago is described in my journey to the Holy Land, and I therefore
pass on at once to Greece.

I had been told, in Constantinople, that the quarantine was held
in the Piræus (six English miles from Athens), and lasted only
four days, as the state of health in Turkey was perfectly satisfactory. 
Instead of this, I learnt on the steamer that it was held at the island
of Ægina (sixteen English miles from Piræus), and lasted
twelve days, not on account of the plague but of the cholera. 
For the plague it lasts twenty days.

On the 10th of October we caught sight of the Grecian mainland. 
Sailing near the coast, we saw on the lofty prominence of a rock twelve
large columns, the remains of the Temple of Minerva.  Shortly afterwards
we came near the hill on which the beautiful Acropolis stands. 
I gazed for a long time on all that was to be seen; the statues of the
Grecian heroes, the history of the country came back to my mind; and
I glowed with desire to set my foot on the land which, from my earliest
childhood, had appeared to me, after Rome and Jerusalem, as the most
interesting in the earth.  How anxiously I sought for the new town
of Athens—it stands upon the same spot as the old and famous one. 
Unfortunately, I did not see it, as it was hidden from us by a hill. 
We turned into the Piræus, on which a new town has also been built,
but only stopped to deliver up our passports, and then sailed to Ægina.

It was already night when we arrived; a boat was quickly put out,
and we were conveyed to the quay near the quarantine station. 
Neither the porters nor servants of this establishment were there to
help us, and we were obliged to carry our own baggage to the building,
where we were shown into empty rooms.  We could not even get a
light.  I had fortunately a wax taper with me, which I cut into
several pieces and gave to my fellow-passengers.

On the following morning I inquired about the regulations of the
quarantine—they were very bad and very dear.  A small room,
quite empty, cost three drachmas (2s. 3d.) a-day; board, five drachmas
(3s. 9d.); very small separate portions, sixty or seventy leptas (6d.
or 7d.); the attendance, that is, the superintendence of the guardian,
two drachmas a-day; the supply of water, fifteen leptas daily; the physician,
a drachma; and another drachma on leaving, for which he inspects the
whole party, and examines the state of their health.  Several other
things were to be had at a similar price, and every article of furniture
has to be hired.

I cannot understand how it is that the government pays so little
attention to institutions which are established for sanitary purposes
and which the poor cannot avoid.  They must suffer more privation
here than at home; they cannot have any hot meals, for the landlord,
who is not restricted in his prices, charges five or six times the value. 
Several artizans who had come by the vessel were put into the same room
with a servant-girl.  These people had no hot food the twelve days;
they lived entirely upon bread, cheese, and dried figs.  The girl,
after a few days, begged me to let her come into my room, as the people
had not behaved properly to her.  In what a position the poor girl
would have been placed if there had not happened to be a woman among
the passengers, or if I had refused to receive her!

Are such arrangements worthy of a public institution?  Why are
there not a few rooms fitted up at the expense of government for the
poor?  Why cannot they have a plain hot meal once in the day for
a moderate price?  The poor surely suffer enough by not being able
to earn anything for so long a time, without being deprived of their
hard earnings in such a shameful manner!

On the second day the court-yard was opened, and we were permitted
to walk about in an inclosed space a hundred and fifty paces wide, on
the sea-shore.  The view was very beautiful; the whole of the Cyclades
lay before us: small, mountainous islands, mostly uninhabited and covered
over with woods.  Probably they were formerly a part of the mainland,
and were separated by some violent convulsion of nature.

On the fourth day our range was extended, we were allowed to walk
as far as the hills surrounding the lazaretto under the care of a guard. 
The remains of a temple stand upon these hills, fragments of a wall,
and a very much decayed column.  The latter, which consisted of
a single piece of stone, was fluted, and, judging from the circumference,
had been very high.  These ruins are said to be those of the remarkably
fine temple of Jupiter.

21st October.  This was the day we were set at liberty. 
We had ordered a small vessel the evening before which was to take us
to Athens early in the morning.  But my fellow-travellers would
insist upon first celebrating their freedom at a tavern, and from this
reason it was 11 o’clock before we started.  I availed myself
of this time to look about the town and its environs.  It is very
small and contains no handsome buildings.  The only remains of
antiquity which I found were traces of the floor of a room in Mosaic
work of coloured stones.  From what I could see of the island of
Ægina, it appeared extremely barren and naked, and it does not
show any indications of having been once a flourishing seat of art and
commerce.

Ægina is a Greek island, about two square miles in extent,
it was formerly a separate state, and is said to have received the name
of Ægina from the daughter of Æsop.  It is supposed
that the first money of Greece was coined in this island.

Our passage to the Piræus occupied a long time.  There
was not a breath of wind, and the sailors were obliged to row; we did
not land at our destination until nearly 8 in the evening.  We
were first visited by the health-officer, who read through the certificates
which we brought from the quarantine very leisurely.  There was
unfortunately nobody among us who was inclined to make it more understandable
to him by a few drachmas.  Of course we could not neglect going
to the police-office; but it was already closed, in consequence of which
we dare not leave the town.  I went into a large fine-looking coffee-house
to look for night quarters.  I was conducted to a room in which
half of the window-panes were broken.  The attendant said this
was of no consequence, it was only necessary to close the shutters. 
In other respects the room looked very well but I had scarcely laid
down on the bed when certain animals compelled me to take to flight. 
I laid down upon the sofa, which was no better.  Lastly, I tried
an easy chair, in which I passed the night, not in the most agreeable
position.

I had already been told in Ægina of the great dirtiness and
number of vermin prevalent in the Piræan inns, and had been warned
against passing a night there; but what was to be done? for we could
not venture to leave the town without permission of the police.

22nd October.  The distance of the harbour of the Piræus
from Athens is thirteen stadia, or six English miles.  The road
leads through olive-plantations and between barren hills.  The
Acropolis remains continually in sight; the town of Athens does not
appear till afterwards.  I had intended to remain eight days in
Athens, in order to see all the monuments and remarkable places of the
town and environs leisurely; but I had scarcely got out of the carriage
when I heard the news of the breaking out of the Vienna revolution of
October.

I had heard of the Paris revolution of the 24th February while in
Bombay; that of March in Germany, at Baghdad; and the other political
disturbances while at Tebris, Tiflis, and other places.  No news
had astonished me so much in my whole life as that from Vienna. 
My comfortable, peace-loving Austrians, and an overthrow of the government! 
I thought the statement so doubtful, that I could not give full credit
to the verbal information of the Resident at Baghdad; he was obliged
to show it to me in black and white in the newspaper to convince me. 
The affair of March so delighted and inspirited me that I felt proud
of being an Austrian.  The later occurrences of May, however, cooled
my enthusiasm; and that of the 6th of October completely filled me with
sadness and dejection.  No overthrow of a state ever began so promisingly. 
It would have stood alone in history if the people had gone on in the
spirit of the March movement; and then to end in such a way!  I
was so grieved and upset by the result of the 6th of October, that I
lost all enjoyment of everything.  Moreover, I knew my friends
were in Vienna, and I had heard nothing from them.  I should have
hastened there immediately if there had been an opportunity of doing
so; but I was obliged to wait till the next day, as the steamer did
not start till then.  I made arrangements to go by it, and then
took a cicerone to show me all the objects of interest in the town,
more for diversion than pleasure.

My fate had been very unfortunate; twelve days I had patiently endured
being shut up in the lazaretto at Ægina, in order to be able to
see the classic country, and now I was so anxious to leave it that I
had neither rest nor peace.

Athens, the capital of the former State of Attica, is said to have
been founded in the year 1300, fourteen hundred years before Christ,
by Cecrops, from whom it then took the name of Cecropia, which in after-times
was retained only by the castle: under Eriktonius the town was named
“Athens.”  The original town stood upon a rock in the
centre of a plain, which was afterwards covered with buildings; the
upper part was called the “Acropolis,” the lower the “Katopolis;”
only a part of the fortress, the famous Acropolis, remains on the mountain,
where the principal works of art of Athens stand.  The principal
feature was the temple of Minerva, or the Parthenon; even its ruins
excite the astonishment of the world.  The building is said to
have been 215 feet long, ninety-seven feet broad, and seventy feet high;
here stood the statue of Minerva, by Phidias.  This masterly work
was executed in gold and ivory; its height was forty-six feet, and it
is said to have weighed more than 2000 pounds.  Fifty-five columns
of the entrance to the temple still remain, as well as parts of enormous
blocks of marble which rest upon them, and belonged to the arches and
roof.

This temple was destroyed by the Persians, and was again restored
with greater beauty by Pericles, about 440 years after the birth of
Christ.

There are some fine remains of the temples of Minerva and Neptune,
and the extent of the amphitheatre can still be seen; there is but little
of the theatre of Bacchus remaining.

Outside the Acropolis stands the temple of Theseus and that of Jupiter
Olympus; the one on the north, the other on the south side.  The
former is in the Doric style, and is surrounded by thirty-six fine columns. 
On the metope are represented the deeds of Theseus in beautiful
reliefs.  The interior of the temple is full of fine sculptures,
epitaphs, and other works in stone, most of which belong to the other
temples, but are collected here.  Outside the temple stand several
marble seats which have been brought from the neighbouring Areopagus,
the former place of assembly for the patricians.  Of the Areopagus
itself nothing more is to be seen than a chamber cut out of the rock,
to which similarly cut steps lead.

Of the temple of Jupiter Olympus so much of the foundation-walls
still remain as to show what its size was; there are also sixteen beautiful
columns, fifty-eight feet in height.  This temple, which was completed
by Hadrian, is said to have exceeded in beauty and magnificence all
the buildings of Athens.  The exterior was decorated by one hundred
and twenty fluted columns six feet in diameter and fifty-nine in height. 
The gold and ivory statue of Jupiter was, like that of Minerva, the
production of the masterly hand of Phidias.  All the temples and
buildings were of pure white marble.

Not far from the Areopagus is the Pnyx, where the free people of
Athens met in council.  Of this nothing more remains than the rostrum,
hewn in the rock, and the seat of the scribe.  What feelings agitate
the mind when it is remembered what men have stood there and spoke from
that spot!

It was with sadness that I examined the cave near here where Socrates
was imprisoned and poisoned.  Above this memorable grotto stands
a plain monument erected in memory of Philopapoe.

The Turks surrounded the Acropolis with a broad wall, in the building
of which they made use of many fragments of columns and other remains
of the most beautiful temples.

No remnants of antiquity are to be seen in the old town of Athens
except the Tower of the Winds, or, as others call it, Diogenes’
Lantern, a small temple in the form of an octagon, covered with fine
sculpture; also the monument of Lysicrates.  This consists of a
pedestal, some columns, and a dome in the Corinthian style.

The chapel Maria Maggiore, is said to have been built by the Venetians,
700 years after Christ.  Its greatest peculiarity is that it was
the first Christian church in Athens.

The view of the whole country from the Acropolis is also very interesting;
there can be seen the Hymetos, the Pentelikon, towards Eleusis, Marathon,
Phylæ, and Dekelea, the harbour, the sea, and the course of the
Ilissus.

Athens contains a considerable number of houses, most of which are,
however, small and unimportant; the beautiful country-houses, on the
contrary, surrounded by tasty gardens, have a very agreeable appearance.

The small observatory was built by Baron Sina, the well-known banker
in Vienna, who is by birth a Greek.

The royal palace, which is of modern date, is built of brilliant
white marble, in the form of a large quadrangle.  On two sides,
which occupy a large part of the breadth of the wings, under a peristyle,
is a kind of small porch which rests upon pillars.  The one approach
is for the ministers, ambassadors, etc., the other for the royal family. 
With the exception of these two peristyles, the whole building is very
tasteless, and has not the least ornament; the windows are in the ordinary
form; and the high large walls appear so naked, bare, and flat, that
even the dazzling white of the beautiful marble produces no effect;
and it is only on a close approach that it can be seen what a costly
material has been employed in the building.

I regretted having seen this palace, especially opposite to the Acropolis,
on a spot which has made its works of art as classic as its heroes.

The palace is surrounded by a rather pretty though recently-formed
garden.  In the front stand a few palms, which have been brought
from Syria, but they bear no fruit.  The country is otherwise barren
and naked.

The marble of which this palace is built, as well as the temples
and other buildings on the Acropolis, is obtained from the quarries
of the neighbouring mountain, Pentelikon, where the quantity of this
beautiful stone is so great that whole towns might be built of it.

It was Sunday, and the weather was very fine, {335}
to which I was indebted for seeing all the fashionable world of Athens,
and even the Court, in the open promenade.  This place is a plain
avenue, at the end of which a wooden pavilion is erected.  It is
not decorated by either lawns or flower-beds.  The military bands
play every Sunday from five to six.  The King rides or drives with
his Queen to this place to show himself to the people.  This time
he came in an open carriage with four horses, and stopped to hear several
pieces of music.  He was in Greek costume; the Queen wore an ordinary
French dress.

The Greek or rather Albanian costume is one of the handsomest there
is.  The men wear full frocks, made of white perkal, which reach
from the hips to the knees, buskins from the knee to the feet, and shoes
generally of red leather.  A close-fitting vest of coloured silk
without arms, over a silk shirt, and over this another close-fitting
spencer of fine red, blue, or brown cloth, which is fastened only at
the waist by a few buttons or a narrow band, and lays open at the top. 
The sleeves of the spencer are slit up, and are either left loose or
slightly held together by some cords round the wrists; the collar of
the shirt is a little turned over.  The vest and spencer are tastily
ornamented with cords, tassels, spangles and buttons of gold, silver
or silk, according to the means of the wearer.  The material, colour
and ornament of the Zaruchi correspond with those of the spencer and
vest.  A dagger is generally worn in the girdle, together with
a pair of pistols.  The head-dress is a red fez, with a blue tassel.

The Greek dress is, as far as I saw, less worn by the women, and
even then much of its originality is lost.  The principal part
of the dress consists of a French garment, which is open at the breast,
over this a close spencer is drawn on, which is also open, and the sleeves
wide and rather shorter than those of the gown.  The front edges
of the gown and spencer are trimmed with gold lace.  The women
and girls wear on their head a very small fez, which is bound round
with rose or other coloured crape.

24th October.  I left Athens by the small steamer Baron Kübeck,
seventy-horse power, and went as far as Calamachi (twenty-eight miles). 
Here I had to leave the ship and cross the Isthmus, three English miles
broad.  At Lutrachi we went on board another vessel.

During the passage to Calamachi, which lasts only a few hours, the
little town of Megara is seen upon a barren hill.

Nothing is more unpleasant in travelling than changing the conveyance,
especially when it is a good one, and you can only lose by doing so. 
We were in this situation.  Herr Leitenberg was one of the best
and most attentive of all captains that I had ever met with in my travels,
and we were all sorry to have to leave him and his ship.  Even
in Calamachi, where we remained this day and the following, as the ship
which was to carry us on from Lutrachi did not arrive, on account of
contrary winds, until the 25th, he attended to us with the greatest
politeness.

The village of Calamachi offers but little of interest, the few houses
have only been erected since the steamers plied, and the tolerably high
mountains on which it lies are for the most part barren, or grown over
with low brambles.  We took several walks on the Isthmus, and ascended
minor heights, from whence on one side is seen the gulf of Lepanto,
and on the other the Ægean sea.  In front of us stood the
large mountain, Akrokorinth, rising high above all its companions. 
Its summit is embellished by a well-preserved fortification, which is
called the remains of the Castle of Akrokorinth, and was used by the
Turks in the last war as a fortress.  The formerly world-famous
city of Corinth, after which all the fittings of luxury and sumptuousness
in the interior of palaces were named, and which gave the name to a
distinct order of architecture, is reduced to a small town with scarcely
a thousand inhabitants, and lies at the foot of the mountain, in the
midst of fields and vineyards.  It owes the whole of its present
celebrity to its small dried grapes, called currants.

It is said that no town of Greece had so many beautiful statues of
stone and marble as Corinth.  It was upon this isthmus, which consists
of a narrow ridge of mountains, and is covered with dense fig-groves,
in which stood a beautiful temple of Neptune, were held the various
Isthmian games.

How greatly a people or a country may degenerate!  The Grecian
people, at one time the first in the world, are now the furthest behind! 
I was told by everyone that in Greece it was neither safe to trust myself
with a guide nor to wander about alone, as I had done in other countries;
indeed, I was warned here in Calamachi not to go too far from the harbour,
and to return before the dusk of the evening.

26th October.  We did not start from Lutrachi until towards
noon, by the steamer Hellenos, of one hundred and twenty-horse
power.

We anchored for a few hours in the evening near Vostizza, the ancient
Ægion, now an unimportant village, at the foot of a mountain.

27th October, Patras.  That portion of Greece which I had already
seen was neither rich in beauty, well cultivated, nor thickly inhabited. 
Here were, at least, plains and hills covered with meadows, fields,
and vineyards.  The town, on the Gulf of Lepanto, was formerly
an important place of trade; and before the breaking out of the Greek
revolution in 1821, contained 20,000 inhabitants; it has now only 7,000. 
The town is defended by three fortresses, one of which stands upon a
hill, and two at the entrance of the harbour.  The town is neither
handsome nor clean, and the streets are narrow.  The high mountains
pleased me better; and their chain can be followed for a considerable
distance.

I saw grapes here whose beauty and size induced me to buy some; but
I found them so hard, dry, and tasteless, that I did not even venture
to give them to a sailor, but threw them into the sea.

28th October.  Corfu is the largest of the Ionian Islands, which
formerly belonged to Greece, and lie at the entrance to the Adriatic
sea.  Corfu, the ancient Corcyra, has been subject to England since
1815.

The town of Corfu is situated in a more beautiful and fertile country
than Patras, and is far larger.  It contains 18,000 inhabitants. 
Adjoining the town are two romantic peaks of rock, with strong fortified
works, upon which stand the telegraph and the lighthouse.  Both
are surrounded by artificial ditches, with draw-bridges leading across. 
The immediate environs of the town, as well as the whole island, are
rich in delightful groves of olive and orange trees.

The town contains handsome houses and streets, with the exception
of the bye-streets, which are remarkably crooked and not very clean. 
At the entrance of the town stands a large covered stone hall, in which
on one side are the stalls of the butchers; on the other, those of the
fishermen.  In the open space in front are exposed the choicest
vegetables and most beautiful fruits.  The theatre presents a very
pretty appearance; it would seem, from the sculptures upon it, to have
been used for a church.  The principal square is large and handsome;
it is intersected by several avenues, and one side faces the sea. 
The palace of the English governor stands here; a fine building in the
Grecian-Italian style.

The famous and much-visited church of St. Spiridion is but small;
it contains many oil-paintings, some are good specimens of the old Italian
School.  In a small dark chapel at the furthest end of the church
lies, in a silver sarcophagus, the body of St. Spiridion, who is held
in great veneration by the Ionians.  The chapel is always full
of devotees who tenderly kiss the sarcophagus.

On the 29th of October we saw the low mountain-country of Dalmatia,
and on the 30th I entered Trieste, whence I hastened on to Vienna the
day following.  I was obliged to pass several days in the greatest
anxiety before the town, as it had been taken by storm on the last day
of October and was not opened until the 4th of November.  It was
not until I had seen that all my relations were safe that I was able
to return thanks with a grateful heart to the good Providence which,
in all my dangers and troubles, had so remarkably protected and preserved
me in health and strength.  With equal gratitude I remembered those
people who had treated me with such kindness, had so disinterestedly
received me, and through whose help I had been enabled to overcome the
frequent great hardships and difficulties I encountered.

From my readers I hope for a charitable judgment upon my book, which
in simple language describes what I have experienced, seen and felt,
and makes no higher pretension than that of being sincere and trustworthy.

NOTES.

{9} The sextant
is a mathematical instrument by which the different degrees of longitude
and latitude are determined, and the hour known.  The chronometers
also are set by it.  In order to find the latitude the ship is
in, an observation is taken at noon, but only when the sun shines. 
This last is absolutely necessary, since it is from the shadow cast
upon the figures of the instrument that the reckoning is made. 
The longitude can be determined both morning and afternoon, as the sun,
in this case, is not necessary.

{11} The heat
does not require to be very great in order to melt the pitch in a ship’s
seams.  I have seen it become soft, and form bladders, when the
thermometer stood at 81.5 in the sun.

{12} Every four
hours the state of the wind, how many miles the vessel has made, in
fact, every occurrence, is noted down in the log with great exactitude. 
The captain is obliged to show this book to the owners of the ship at
the conclusion of the voyage.

{13} Some years
ago a sailor made an attempt to scale the Sugarloaf.  He succeeded
in attaining the summit, but never came down again.  Most likely
he made a false step and was precipitated into the sea.

{14} The worthy
Lallemand family received her, a few days after her arrival into their
house.

{23a} The princess
was three weeks old.

{23b} Rockets
and small fireworks are always let off at every religious festival,
some before the church, and others at a short distance from it. 
The most ludicrous part of the affair is, that this is always done in
open day.

{27} They are
differently paid, according to what they can do.  The usual hire
of a maid-servant is from ten to twelve shillings per month; for a cook,
twenty-four to forty; for a nurse, thirty-eight to forty; for a skilful
labourer, fifty to seventy.

{34a} Truppa
is a term used to designate ten mules driven by a negro; in most instances
a number of truppas are joined together, and often make up teams or
caravans of 100 or 200 mules.  Everything in the Brazils is conveyed
upon mules.

{34b} A cord,
with a noose at the end; the native inhabitants of South America use
it so skilfully that they catch the most savage animals with it.

{38} Fazenda
is equivalent to our word “plantation.”

{39} Kabï
is African grass, which is planted all over the Brazils, as grass never
grows there of its own accord.  It is very high and reed-like.

{40} Rost
(roaster) is employed to denote partly a strip of low brushwood, partly
the place where a wood has stood previously to being burnt.

{42} All through
Brazil, carna secca is one of the principal articles of food,
both for whites and blacks.  It comes from Buenos Ayres, and consists
of beef cut into long, thin, broad stripes, salted and dried in the
open air.

{47} Under the
term “whites,” are included not only those Europeans who
have lately immigrated, but also the Portuguese, who have been settled
in the country for centuries.

{50} This wholesome
plant grows very commonly in the Brazils.

{53} In the southern
hemisphere the seasons, as regards the months, are exactly the contrary
to what they are in the northern.  For instance, when it is winter
on one side of the Equator it is summer on the other, etc.

{55} Maroon negroes
are those negroes who have run away from their masters.  They generally
collect in large bands, and retire into the recesses of the virgin forests,
whence, however, they often emerge to steal and plunder; their depredations
are not unfrequently accompanied by murder.

{59} The Rio Plata
is one of the largest rivers in Brazil.

{60} Other captains
assured me that it was only possible for men-of-war to pass through
the Straits of Magellan, as the passage requires a great number of hands. 
Every evening the ship must be brought to an anchor, and the crew must
constantly be in readiness to trim or reef the sails, on account of
the various winds which are always springing up.

{62} The glass
sank in the day-time to 48° and 50°, and at night to 28°
below Zero.

{73} All the Indians
are Christians (Protestants), but I fear only in name.

{76} Elephantiasis,
in this country, generally shows itself in the feet, and extends up
as far as the calves of the legs.  These portions of the body,
when so affected, are greatly swollen, and covered with scurf and blotches,
so that they really might be taken for those of an elephant.

{78} I purposely
abstain from mentioning the names of any of the gentlemen at Tahiti,
a piece of reserve which I think entitles me to their thanks.

{86} Up to the
present period, Tahiti has produced nothing for exportation, and therefore
all vessels have to clear out in ballast.  The island is important
to the French, as a port where their ships in the Pacific may stop and
refit.

{91a} The expense
of living at an hotel in Macao, Victoria, and Canton is from four to
six dollars a-day (16s. to 24s.).

{91b} Carl Gützlaff
was born on the 8th of July, 1803, at Pyritz, in Pomerania.  As
a boy he was distinguished for his piety and extraordinary talent. 
His parents apprenticed him to a leather-seller.  In this capacity
he was noted for his industry, although he was far from contented with
his position; and, in the year 1821, he found an opportunity of presenting
a poem, in which he expressed his sentiments and wishes, to the King
of Prussia.  The king recognised the talent of the struggling youth,
and opened to him a career in accordance with his inclination. 
In the year 1827 he proceeded as a missionary to Batavia, and, at a
later period, to Bintang, where he applied himself with such assiduity
to the study of Chinese, that in the space of two years he knew it well
enough to preach in it.  In December, 1831, he went to Macao, where
he established a school for Chinese children, and commenced his translation
of the Bible into Chinese.  He founded, in conjunction with Morrison,
a Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge in China, and edited
a monthly Chinese magazine, in which he endeavoured to interest the
people upon history, geography, and literature.  In 1832 and 1833
he penetrated as far as the province of Fo-Kien.

Gützlaff’s Travels have made us acquainted with
several very important facts connected with the different Chinese dialects,
and are also of great worth to other scientific points of view. 
They are especially useful in enabling us to form a correct opinion
as to the merits of the works that have lately appeared on China; and
everyone must acknowledge his rare talent, must value his immovable
fixedness of purpose, and must admire his zealous perseverance in the
cause of science, and his unshaken belief in the principles of his religion. 
(Dr. Gützlaff died in November, 1851).

{93} All large
vessels have two painted eyes let into the prow; with these, as the
Chinese believe, they are better able to find their way.

{95} There is
only one mail a month from Europe.

{101} When they
copy a picture they divide it, like our own artists, into squares.

{102a} A pikul
of raw opium is worth about 600 dollars (£120).

{102b} I had
more especially reason to fear this latter circumstance, as the people
had given out that on the 12th or 13th of August, at the latest, there
would be a revolution, in which all the Europeans would lose their lives. 
My state of mind may easily be imagined, left, as I was, entirely alone
with the Chinese servants.

{103} One of
the ports which were opened to the English in 1842.

{104} His costume
was composed of a wide over-garment reaching to the knees, and furnished
with flowing arms, and, underneath this, trousers of white silk. 
The upper garment was made of brocade of very vivid colours and an extraordinary
pattern.  On his breast he wore two birds as marks of his rank,
and a necklace of precious stones.  His shoes, composed of black
silk, were turned up into points at the extremities.  On his head
he wore a conical velvet hat with a gilt button.

{105} The reader
must know that these animals are looked upon as particularly sacred.

{108} The town
of Canton is nine miles in circumference.  It is the residence
of a Viceroy, and divided by walls into the Chinese and the Tartar town. 
The population of the town itself is reckoned at 400,000, while it is
calculated that 60,000 persons live in the boats and schampans, and
about 200,000 in the immediate vicinity.  The number of Europeans
settled here is about 200.

{110} The Chinese
adopt white for mourning.

{112} Noble
Chinese ladies pass a much more secluded life than Eastern women. 
They are allowed to visit one another very seldom, and that only in
well-closed litters.  They have neither public baths nor gardens
in which they can meet.

{114} The leaves
of this gathering are plucked with the greatest care by children and
young people, who are provided with gloves and are bound to pick every
leaf separately.

{116} 173 dollars
the chief cabin, 117 the second (£34 12s. and £23 8s.)

{118} These
steamers carry the mails, and make the voyage from Canton to Calcutta
once a month, touching at Singapore on their way.

{120a} Horses
cannot be bred here; they have all to be imported.

{120b} The
East India Company, to which the island belongs, have a governor and
English troops here.

{125} The mangostan
is unanimously pronounced the finest fruit in the world.

{128} One of
the four had been removed from the first cabin, because it was asserted
that he was somewhat cracked, and did not always know what he said or
did.

{150} The finest
and most costly muslin is manufactured in the province of Dacca, and
costs two rupees (4s.), or even two rupees and a half the ell.

{153} The hurgila,
a kind of stork, that eats dead bodies, and is frequently to be seen
near the rivers in India.

{158a} At
the period of my visit there were about 782 of them.

{158b} Rajmahal
was, in the seventeenth century, the capital of Bengal.

{160a} Monghyr
is termed the Birmingham of India, on account of its extensive manufactories
of cutlery and weapons.  Its population is about 30,000 souls.

{160b} Patna
is the capital of the province of “Bechar,” and was once
celebrated for the number of its Buddhist temples.  Near Patna
was situated the most famous town of ancient India, namely, “Parlibothra.” 
Patna contains a great many cotton and a few opium factories.

{161} In all
Indian, Mahomedan, and in fact all countries which are not Christian,
it is a very difficult task to obtain anything like an exact calculation
of the number of inhabitants, as nothing is more hateful to the population
than such computations.

{162} I landed
with two travellers at Patna, and rode on to Deinapore in the evening,
where our steamer anchored for the night.

{170} If a Hindoo
has no son, he adopts one of his relations, in order that he may fulfil
the duties of a son at the funeral of his adoptive father.

{173} The dislike
which the Hindoos evince towards the Europeans, is chiefly in consequence
of the latter showing no honour to the cow, of their eating ox-flesh,
and drinking brandy; and that they spit in their houses, and even in
the temples, and wash their mouths with their fingers, etc.  They
call the Europeans “Parangi.”  This disrespect is said
to make the Hindoos dislike the Christian religion.

{177} Many of
the more recent Indian towns were built by the Mongolians, or were so
much altered by them that they altogether lost their original character. 
India was conquered by the Mongolians as early as the tenth century.

{183} At the
time of its greatest prosperity it had 2,000,000 inhabitants.

{185} Some writers
describe this colossal crystal as being twenty-five feet long.

{190} If these
two towers did belong to a mosque, why were they built of such different
sizes?

{193} The cheprasses
are servants of the English government.  They wear red cloth scarfs,
and a brass plate on the shoulders, with the name of the town to which
they belong engraved upon it.  Each of the higher English officials
are allowed to have one or more of these people in their service. 
The people consider them much superior to the ordinary servants.

{200} Children
are generally considered as impure until the ninth year, and are therefore
not subject to the laws of their religion.

{204} The god
Vishnu is represented as a tortoise.

{209} Although
only the beginning of spring, the temperature rose during the day as
high as 95° – 99° Fah.

{212a} Mundsch
is the royal tutor, writer, or interpreter.

{212b} It
is well known that saltpetre produces a considerable reduction of temperature.

{213} Indor
lies 2,000 feet above the level of the sea.

{225} Monsoons
are the periodical winds which blow during one-half the year from east
to west, during the other half from west to east.

{226} The Black
Town is that part of the town in which the poorer classes of inhabitants
reside.  That neither beauty nor cleanliness are to be sought there,
is a matter of course.

{227} There
are in all only 6,000 Parsees in the island of Bombay.

{228} And yet
Bombay is the principal seat of the Fire-worshippers.

{268} This is
an error: M. Botta made the first attempt to excavate the Ninevite remains
at Khorsabad.  Mr. Layard had, moreover, commenced his excavations
before he received the countenance of the British Museum authorities. 
See “Nineveh—the Buried City of the East,” one of
the volumes of the “National Illustrated Library,” for the
rectification of this and other errors in Madame Pfeiffer’s account.

{270} The manuscripts
of the journey through Hindostan as far as Mósul miscarried for
more than a year and a half.  I gave them up as lost.  This
was the cause of the delay in the publication of my “Journey round
the world.”

{279} I had
picked up enough of the language between here and Mósul to understand
this much.

{287} Mela is
the name of the Indian religious festivals at which thousands of people
assemble.  The missionaries frequently travel hundreds of miles
to them in order to preach to the people.

{305} Tradition
says that the country about Erivan is that part of the earth which was
first of all peopled.  Noah and his family dwelt here, both before
and after the deluge; the Garden of Eden is also said to have been situated
here.  Erivan was formerly called Terva, and was the chief city
of Armenia.  Not far from Erivan lies the chief sacred relic of
the Armenian Christians—the cloister Ecs-miazim.  The church
is simple in construction; the pillars, seventy-three feet high, consist
of blocks of stone joined together.  In the Treasury were, formerly,
two of the nails with which Christ was crucified, the lance with which
he was stabbed in the side, and, lastly, a seamless garment of Christ. 
It is asserted that in the centre of the church is the spot where Noah,
after his delivery, erected an altar and offered sacrifice.  Besides
these, the church is in the possession of innumerable important relics.

{308} This is
carried to such an extent that if a traveller has his horses already
put to, and is in the carriage, and an officer arrives, the horses are
taken off and given to the latter.

{309} Georgia
was called Iberia by the ancients.  Formerly, this country extended
from Tauris and Erzerum, as far as the Tanais, and was called Albania. 
It is a country of mountains.  The river Kurry, also called Cyrus,
flows through the midst.  On this river the famous conqueror of
Persia, Cyrus, was exposed in his childhood.  Tiflis was formerly
one of the finest towns of Persia.

{312} His wives
I dare not speak of, as the Mussulmen consider this an affront.

{314} The River
Ribon, also called Rione, is considered to be one of the four rivers
of Paradise, and was known by the name of Pison.  Its waters were
formerly held sacred.  On account of the number of trunks of trees,
it is unnavigable for large ships.

{320a} The
Circassians are so wild and warlike that no one dare venture into the
interior of the country.  Little is known of their habits, customs,
or religion.  Bordering on Circassia are the Atkans, who inhabit
the coast country between Mingrelia and Circassia, and are also wild
and given to plunder.

{320b} Large
plains covered with short grass.

{321} Mithridates
lived in Pantikapäum.  The hill at Kertsch is called to this
day “Mithridates’ Seat.”  During the excavations
in it, which have been made since 1832, many remains were found, such
as funeral urns, implements of sacrifice, Grecian inscriptions, handsome
figures, and groups.

{330a} Constantinople
is not lighted—whoever goes out without a lantern is considered
suspicious, and taken to the next watch-house.

{330b} The
streets of Constantinople are narrow, full of holes, and uneven, so
that carriages cannot be taken everywhere and people are obliged to
manage with small fire-engines carried by four men.

{335} Here,
where I arrived about four weeks after leaving Odessa, the sun appeared
as hot as with us in July.  The vegetation was greatly in want
of rain, and the leaves were almost dying from the heat; while in Odessa
they were already killed by the cold.

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