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A Visit to the Holy Land, Egypt, and Italy

by Ida Pfeiffer · English · Gutenberg #12561 · 645,625 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: A Visit to the Holy Land, Egypt, and Italy

Author: Ida Pfeiffer

Translator: H. W. Dulcken


        
Release date: June 1, 2004 [eBook #12561]
                Most recently updated: December 15, 2020

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12561

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


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A VISIT TO THE HOLY LAND, EGYPT, AND ITALY ***




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




VISIT TO THE HOLY LAND, EGYPT, AND ITALY




[Illustration 1. Frontispiece:--JERUSALEM.   ill1.jpg]

By Madame Ida Pfeiffer.

Translated from the German by H. W. Dulcken.

[Illustration 2.  Title-page:--NAZARETH.   ill2.jpg]




PREFACE BY THE VIENNA PUBLISHER


For two centuries the princes and nations of the West were
accustomed to wander towards the land of the morning.  In vain was
the noblest blood poured forth in streams in the effort to wrest the
country of our heavenly Teacher from the grasp of the infidel; and
though the Christian Europe of the present day forbears to renew a
struggle which, considering the strength that has been gradually
increasing for the last six hundred years, might prove an easy one,
we cannot wonder that millions of the votaries of Christianity
should cherish an earnest longing to wander in the paths the
Redeemer has trod, and to view with their own eyes the traces of the
Saviour's progress from the cradle to the grave.

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

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

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

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

On the 2d of March, 1842, she commenced her journey alone, without
companions, but fully prepared to bear every ill, to bid defiance to
every danger, and to combat every difficulty.  That this undertaking
should have succeeded may almost be looked upon as a wonder.

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

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

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

My request to read our Authoress's journal was granted with some
timidity; and I am ready to assert that seldom has a book so
irresistibly attracted me, or so completely fixed my attention from
beginning to end, as this.

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

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

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




CONTENTS


CHAPTER I.      Departure from Vienna--Scene on board the steamer--
Hainburg--Presburg--The "Coronation-mount"--Pesth--Ofen--The steamer
Galata--Mohacs--The fortress Peterwardein--Discomfort and bad
management on board the steamer--Semlin--Belgrade--Pancsova--
Austrian soldiers--The rock Babakay--Drenkova--Falls of Danube--Alt-
Orsova--The "Iron Gate"--Cattle-breeding--Callafat--Vexatious delay

CHAPTER II.     Giurgewo--Interior of the town--Braila--Sanitary
precautions--Galatz--Scarcity of good water--Ridiculous fear of the
plague--The steamer Ferdinand--Entrance into the Black Sea--Stormy
weather and sea-sickness--Arrival at Constantinople--Picturesque
appearance of the city--Mosques--The dancing Dervishes--The Sultan
and his barge--Pera--The great and little Campo--Wild dogs--Dirty
state of the streets--Preparations in case of fire

CHAPTER III.    Scutari--Kaiks--The howling Dervishes--The
Achmaidon, or place of arrows--The tower in Galata--The bazaar at
Constantinople--Mosques--Slave-market--The old Serail--The
Hippodrome--Coffee-houses--Story-tellers--Excursion to Ejub--Houses,
theatres, and carriages

CHAPTER IV.     Walks and drives of the townspeople--The "Sweet
Waters"--Chalcedonia--Baluklid--The great and little Campo--Feasts
in Constantinople--Anniversary of Mahomet's death--Easter holydays
of the Greeks--Gladiators and wrestlers--Excursion to Brussa--Olive-
trees--Mosques at Brussa--Stone bridge--Wild dogs--Baths and mineral
springs--Return to Constantinople

CHAPTER V.      Contradictory reports--Departure from Constantinople
on board the Archduke John--Scene on the steamer--Galipoli--The
Dardanelles--Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar--The field of Troy--
Tenedos--Smyrna--Halizar--The date-palm--Burnaba--The Acropolis--
Female beauty--Rhodes--Strong fortifications--Deserted appearance of
the town--Cyprus

CHAPTER VI.     Arrival at Beyrout--Fellahs--Backsheesh--
Uncomfortable quarters--Saida--Tyre--St. Jean d'Acre--Caesarea--
Excursion among the ruins--Jaffa--An Eastern family--The Indian fig-
tree--An Oriental dinner--Costume of the women of Jaffa--Oppressive
heat--Gnats--Ramla--Syrian convents--Bedouins and Arabs--Kariet el
Areb, or Emmaus--The scheikh--Arrival at Jerusalem

CHAPTER VII.    Residence at Jerusalem--Catholic church--The "Nuova
Casa"--Via dolorosa--Pilate's house--The Mosque Omar--Herod's house--
Church of the Holy Sepulchre--Disturbances at the Greek Easter
feasts--Knights of the Holy Sepulchre--Mount of Olives--Adventure
among the ruins--Mount of Offence--Valley of Jehosaphat--Siloam--
Mount Sion--Jeremiah's Grotto--Graves

CHAPTER VIII.   Bethlehem--Rachel's grave--Convent at Bethlehem--
Beggars--Grotto of the Nativity--Solomon's cisterns--St. John's--
Franciscan church at Jerusalem--Mourning women--Eastern weddings--
Mish-mish--Excursion to the Jordan and the Dead Sea--Wilderness near
Jerusalem--Convent of St. Saba

CHAPTER IX.     Ride through the wilderness to the Dead Sea--The
Dead Sea--The river Jordan--Horde of Bedouins--Arab horses--The
Sultan's well--Bivouac in the open air--Return to Jerusalem--
Bethany--Departure from Jerusalem--Jacob's grave--Nablus or Sichem--
Sebasta--Costume of Samaritan woman--Plain of Esdralon--Sagun

CHAPTER X.      Arrival at Nazareth--Franciscan convent--Tabarith--
Mount Tabor--Lake of Gennesareth--Baths--Mount Carmel--Grotto of the
prophet Elijah--Acre--The pacha's harem--Oriental women--Their
listlessness and ignorance--Sur or Tyre

CHAPTER XI.     River Mishmir--Saida--Arnauts--Desert-path--
Residence of Lady Hester Stanhope--Beyrout--The consul's--
Uncomfortable quarters--Sickness--The Bazaar--Vexatious delays--
Departure from Beyrout--Beautiful views--Syrian costumes--Damascus--
Aspect of the city--House of the consul

CHAPTER XII.    The bazaar at Damascus--The khan--Grotto of St.
Paul--Fanaticism of the inhabitants--Departure from Damascus--The
desert--Military escort--Heliopolis or Balbeck--Stupendous ruins--
Continuation of our voyage through the desert--The plague--The
Lebanon range--Cedar-trees--Druses and Maronites--Importunate
beggars--Thievish propensities of the Arabs

CHAPTER XIII.   The Lebanon--Druses and Maronites--Illness of Herr
Sattler--Djebel or Byblus--Rocky passes--Dog's-river--Return to
Beyrout--Sickness--Departure for Alexandria--Roguery of the captain--
Disagreeables on board--Limasol--Alarm of pirates--Cowardice of the
crew--Arrival at Alexandria

CHAPTER XIV.    Alexandria--Keeping quarantine--Want of arrangement
in the quarantine-house--Bad water--Fumigating of the rooms--
Release--Aspect of the city--Departure by boat for Atfe--Mehemet
Ali--Arrival at Atfe--Excellence of the Nile water--Good-nature of
the Arab women--The Delta of the Nile--The Libyan desert--The
pyramids--Arrival at Cairo

CHAPTER XV.     Cairo--Quarrel with the captain--Rapacity of the
beggars--The custom-house--The consulate--Aspect of Cairo--Narrow
and crowded streets--Costumes--The mad-house--Disgusting exhibition--
Joseph's well--Palace of Mehemet Ali--Dates--Mosques at Cairo--
Excursion to the pyramids of Gizeh--Gizeh--Eggs hatched by
artificial heat--Ascent of the pyramids--The sphynx--Return to Cairo

CHAPTER XVI.    Christian churches at Cairo--The Esbekie-square--
Theatre--Howling dervishes--Mashdalansher, the birthday of Mahomet--
Procession and religious ceremony--Shubra--Excursion through the
desert to Suez--Hardships of the journey--Scenes in the desert--The
camel--Caravans--Mirage--The Red Sea--Suez--Bedouin Camp--Quarrel
with the camel-driver--Departure for Alexandria

CHAPTER XVII.   Return to Alexandria--Egyptian burials--Catacombs of
Alexandria--Viceroy's palace--Departure from Alexandria--The steamer
Eurotas--Candia--Syra--Paros and Antiparos--The Morea--Fire on
board--Malta--Quarantine--St. Augustine's church--Clergymen--
Beggars--Costumes--Soldiers--Civita Vecchia

CHAPTER XVIII.  The steamer Hercules--Syracuse--Neapolis--Ruins--
Catanea--Convent of St. Nicholas--Messina--The Duke of Calabria--
Palermo--The royal palace--Church of St. Theresa--St. Ignazio--
Catacombs of the Augustine convent--Skeletons--Olivuzza--Royal villa
"Favorite"--St. Rosalia--Brutality of the Italian mob--Luxuriant
vegetation--Arrival at Naples

CHAPTER XIX.    Sojourn at Naples--Sickness--Laziness of the people--
Royal palace--Rotunda--Strada Chiaga and Toledo--St. Carlo Theatre--
Largo del Castello--Medina Square--Marionettes--St. Jesu Nuovo--St.
Jesu Maggiore--St. Maria di Piedigrotta--Public gardens--Academy
"degli Studii"--Cathedral of St. Januarius--St. Jeronimi--St. Paula
Maggiore--St. Chiara--Baths of Nero--Solfatara--Grotto "del Cane"--
Resina--Ascent of Vesuvius--Caserta

CHAPTER XX.     Caserta--Costume of the peasants--Rome--Piazza del
Popolo--Dogana--St. Peter's--Palaces--Borghese, Barberini, Colonna,
etc.--Churches--Ancient Rome--The Colliseum--Departure for Florence-
Bad weather--Picturesque scenery--Siena--Florence--Cathedral and
palaces--Departure from Florence--Bologna--Ferrara--Conclusion

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1.  JERUSALEM
2.  NAZARETH
3.  CHURCHYARD AT SCUTARI
4.  THE DEAD SEA
5.  MOUNT CARMEL
6.  LEBANON
7.  BALBECK
8.  ISTHMUS OF SUEZ




CHAPTER I.


Departure from Vienna--Scene on board the steamer--Hainburg--
Presburg--The "Coronation-mount"--Pesth--Ofen--The steamer Galata--
Mohacs--The fortress Peterwardein--Discomfort and bad management on
board the steamer--Semlin--Belgrade--Pancsova--Austrian soldiers--
The rock Babakay--Drenkova--Falls of the Danube--Alt-Orsova--The
"Iron Gate"--Cattle-breeding--Callafat--Vexatious delay.

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

My friends and relations attempted in vain to turn me from my
purpose by painting, in the most glowing colours, all the dangers
and difficulties which await the traveller in those regions.  "Men,"
they said, "were obliged gravely to consider if they had physical
strength to endure the fatigues of such a journey, and strength of
mind bravely to face the dangers of the plague, the climate, the
attacks of insects, bad diet, etc.  And to think of a woman's
venturing alone, without protection of any kind, into the wide
world, across sea and mountain and plain,--it was quite
preposterous."  This was the opinion of my friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In three hours' time we reached Presburg, and landed in the
neighbourhood of the Coronation-hill, an artificial mound, on which
the king must stand in his royal robes, and brandish his sword
towards the four quarters of the heavens, as a token that he is
ready to defend his kingdom against all enemies, from whatever
direction they may approach.  Not far from this hill is situate the
handsome inn called the "Two Green Trees," where the charges are as
high, if not higher, than in Vienna.  Until we have passed Pesth,
passengers going down the river are not allowed to remain on board
through the night.

March 23d.

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

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

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

I put up at the "Hunting-horn," a fine hotel, but ridiculously
expensive.  A little back room cost me 45 kreutzers (about one
shilling and eightpence) for one night.

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

March 24th,

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

At about eight o'clock in the evening we reached the market-town of
Mohacs, celebrated as the scene of two battles.  The fortress here
is used as a prison for criminals.  We could distinguish nothing
either of the fortress or the town.  It was already night when we
arrived, and at two o'clock in the morning of

March 25th

we weighed anchor.  I was assured, however, that I had lost nothing
by this haste.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March 26th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On the Austrian side of the Danube sentries are posted at every two
or three hundred paces--an arrangement which has been imitated by
the governments on the left bank, and is carried out to the point
where the river empties itself into the Black Sea.

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

Throughout the Russian territory the soldiers at least wear uniform.

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

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

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

March 27th.

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

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

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

March 28th.

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

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

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

A couple of miles below Drenkova, near Islas, the sailors suddenly
cried, "The first fall!"  I looked up in a fever of expectation.
The water was rising in small waves, the stream ran somewhat faster,
and a slight rushing sound was to be heard.  If I had not been told
that the Danube forms a waterfall here, I should certainly never
have suspected it to be the case.  Between Lenz and Krems I did not
find either the rocks or the power of the stream much more
formidable.  We had, however, a high tide, a circumstance which
diminishes both the danger of the journey and the sublimity of the
view.  The numerous rocky points, peering threateningly forth at low
tide, among which the steersman must pick his way with great care,
were all hidden from our sight.  We glided safely over them, and in
about twenty minutes had left the first fall behind us.  The two
succeeding falls are less considerable.

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

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

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

The town has rather a pretty effect, being composed mostly of new
houses.  The house belonging to the steamboat company is
particularly remarkable.  It is not, however, devoted to the
accommodation of travellers, as at Drenkova.  Here, as at Presburg
and Pesth, each passenger is required to pay for his night's
expenses,--an arrangement which I could not help finding somewhat
strange, inasmuch as every passenger is made to pay twice; namely,
for his place on the steamer and for his room in the inn.

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

March 29th.

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

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

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

We are now brought nearer every moment to the most dangerous part of
the river, the "Iron Gate," called by the Turks Demir kaju.  Half an
hour before we reached the spot, the rushing sound of the water
announced the perilous proximity.  Numerous reefs of rocks here
traverse the stream, and the current runs eddying among them.

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

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

After passing the Iron Gate we come to a village, in the
neighbourhood of which some fragments of the Trajan's Bridge can be
discerned at low water.

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

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

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

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

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

March 30th.

As the agent had not yet made his appearance, the captain had no
choice but to leave the steward behind to watch over the goods.  At
half-past six in the morning the engines were at length set in
motion, and after a very agreeable passage of six hours we reached
Nicopolis.

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

Rather late in the evening we cast anchor opposite a village of no
note.




CHAPTER II.


Giurgewo--Interior of the town--Braila--Sanitary precautions--
Galatz--Scarcity of good water--Ridiculous fear of the plague--The
steamer Ferdinand--Entrance into the Black Sea--Stormy weather and
sea-sickness--Arrival at Constantinople--Picturesque appearance of
the city--Mosques--The dancing Dervishes--The Sultan and his barge--
Pera--The great and little Campo--Wild dogs--Dirty state of the
streets--Preparations in case of fire.

March 31st.

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

With what disappointed surprise did my fellow-passengers view the
ugliness of this town, which from a distance promises so much!  On
me it made but little impression, for I had seen towns precisely
similar in Galicia.  The streets and squares are full of pits and
holes; the houses are built without the slightest regard to taste or
symmetry, one perhaps projecting halfway across the street, while
its neighbour falls quite into the background.  In some places
wooden booths were erected along each side of the street for the
sale of the commonest necessaries of life and articles of food, and
these places were dignified by the name of "bazaars."  Curiosity led
us into a wine-shop and into a coffee-house.  In both of these we
found only wooden tables and benches; there were hardly any guests;
and the few persons present belonged to the humblest classes.
Glasses and cups are handed to the company without undergoing the
ceremony of rinsing.

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

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

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

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

April 1st

we sailed past Hirsova, and at two o'clock stopped at Braila, a
fortress occupied by the Russians since the year 1828.  Here
passengers were not allowed to land, as they were considered
infected with the plague; but our officer stepped forward, and
vouched for the fact that we had neither landed nor taken up any one
on the right bank of the river; thereupon the strangers were allowed
to set foot on terra firma.

By four o'clock we were opposite Galatz, one of the most
considerable commercial towns, with 8000 inhabitants,--the only
harbour the Russians possess on the Danube.  Here we saw the first
merchant-ships and barques of all kinds coming from the Black Sea.
Some sea-gulls also, heralds of the neighbouring ocean, soared above
our heads.

The scene here is one of traffic and bustle; Galatz being the place
of rendezvous for merchants and travellers from two quarters of the
globe, Europe and Asia.  It is the point of junction of three great
empires--Austria, Russia, and Turkey.

After the officer had repeated his assurances as at Braila, we were
permitted to leave the ship.  I had a letter of recommendation to
the Austrian consul, who accidentally came on board; after reading
my letter he received me very kindly, and most obligingly procured
quarters for me.

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

Though Galatz lies on the Danube, water for drinking is a dear
article among the inhabitants.  Wells are to be found neither in the
houses nor in the squares.  The townspeople are compelled to bring
all the water they require from the Danube, which is a great
hardship for the poor people, and a considerable expense for the
rich; in winter a small tub of water costs from 10 to 12 kreutzers
(about 4d. or 5d.) in the more distant quarters of the town.  At
every corner you meet water-carriers, and little wagons loaded with
tubs of water.  Attempts have frequently been made to procure this
indispensable element by digging; water has, indeed, in some
instances gushed forth, but it always had a brackish taste.

In Galatz we made a halt of twenty-four hours:  the delay was not of
the most agreeable kind, as neither the town itself nor its environs
offer any thing worthy of remark.  Still I always think of these
days with pleasure.  Herr Consul Huber is a polite and obliging man;
himself a traveller, he gave me many a hint and many a piece of
advice for my journey.  The air of quiet comfort which reigned
throughout his house was also not to be despised by one who had just
endured many days of privation; at Herr Huber's I found relief both
for body and mind.

April 2d.

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

In the market and the squares we notice a great preponderance of the
male sex over the female.  The former are seen bustling about every
where, and, like the Italians, perform some duties which usually
fall to the lot of the softer sex.  We notice a mixture of the most
different nations, and among them a particularly large number of
Jews.

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

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

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

"Pray hand me over my luggage!" cries one.  "Keep farther away!
don't come near me, and mind you don't touch me!" anxiously exclaims
another.  And then the superintendents keep shouting--"Stand back,
stand back!" etc.

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

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

At seven o'clock the tattoo is beaten, the grating is shut, and the
farce ends.  We now repaired to the fourth and last steamer, the
Ferdinand.  From first to last we changed vessels six times during a
journey from Vienna to Constantinople; we travelled by four steamers
and twice in boats; a circumstance which cannot be reckoned among
the pleasures of a trip down the Danube.

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

April 3d.

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

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

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

Towards three o'clock in the afternoon we at length entered the
Black Sea.

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

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

April 4th.

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

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

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

Late at night the violence of the storm abated in some degree; we
could now run in and cast anchor in the harbour of Varna, which
under ordinary circumstances we should have reached twelve hours
sooner.

April 5th.

This morning I had leisure to admire this fine fortress-town, which
was besieged and taken by the Russians in 1828.  We remained here
several hours.  The upper portion of the ship was here loaded with
fowl of all descriptions, to such a degree that the space left for
us travellers was exceedingly circumscribed.  This article of
consumption seems to be in great demand in Constantinople both among
Turks and Franks; for our captain assured me that his vessel was
laden with this kind of ware every time he quitted Varna, and that
he carried it to Stamboul.

April 6th.

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

At three o'clock in the morning, when we entered the harbour of
Constantinople, every one, with the exception of the sailors, lay
wrapped in sleep.  I stood watching on deck, and saw the sun rise in
its full glory over the imperial city, so justly and universally
admired.

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

The town of Constantinople, properly speaking, is separated from
Galata and Pera by the so-called "Golden Horn;" the means of
communication is by a long and broad wooden bridge.  Scutari and
Bulgurlu rise in the form of terraces on the Asiatic shore.  Scutari
is surrounded, within and without, by a splendid wood of magnificent
cypresses.  In the foreground, on the top of the mountain, lie the
spacious and handsome barracks, which can contain 10,000 men.

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

When the bustle of life began, on the shore and on the sea, my eyes
scarcely sufficed to take in all I saw.  The "Golden Horn" became
gradually covered as far as the eye could reach with a countless
multitude of kaiks.  The restless turmoil of life on shore, the
passing to and fro of men of all nations and colours, from the pale
inhabitant of Europe to the blackest Ethiopian, the combination of
varied and characteristic costumes, this, and much more which I
cannot describe, held me spell-bound to the deck.  The hours flew
past like minutes, and even the time of debarcation came much too
early for me, though I had stood on deck and gazed from three
o'clock until eight.

I found myself richly repaid for all the toils of my journey, and
rejoiced in the sight of these wonderful Eastern pictures; I could
only wish I were a poet, that I might fitly portray the magnificent
gorgeousness of the sight.

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

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

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

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

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

RESIDENCE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.--THE DANCING DERVISHES.

I arrived at Constantinople on a Tuesday, and immediately inquired
what was worth seeing.  I was advised to go and see the dancing
dervishes, as this was the day on which they held their religious
exercises in Pera.

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

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

The ladies' garden resembles a churchyard.  Funeral monuments peer
forth at intervals between the cypresses, beneath which the visitors
sit talking and joking cheerfully.  Every now and then one would
suddenly start up, spread a carpet beside her companions, and kneel
down to perform her devotions.

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

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

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

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

The Sultan is a slender slim-looking youth of nineteen years of age,
and looks pale, languid, and blase.  His features are agreeable, and
his eyes fine.  If he had not abandoned himself at so early an age
to all the pleasures of the senses, he would, no doubt, have grown
up a stalwart man.  He wore a long cape of dark-blue cloth; and a
high fez-cap, with a heron's plume and a diamond clasp, decked his
head.  The greeting of the people, and the Sultan's mode of
acknowledging it, is exactly as at Vienna, except that here the
people at intervals raise a low cry of welcome.

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

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

Twelve dervishes now began their dance,--if indeed a turning round
in a circle, while their full dresses spread round them like a large
wheel, can be called by such a name.  They display much address in
avoiding each other, and never come in contact, though their stage
is very small.  I did not notice any "convulsions," of which I had
read in many descriptions.

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

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

A number of elegant barges and kaiks follow the procession.  The
flags of the Turkish fleet and merchant-ships are hoisted, and
twenty-one cannons thunder forth a salutation to the Sultan.  He
does not stay long in the mosque, and usually proceeds to visit a
barrack or some other public building.  When the monarch goes by
water to the mosque, he generally returns also in his barge; if he
goes by land, he returns in the same manner.

The most popular walks in Pera are "the great and little Campo,"
which may be termed "burying-places in cypress-groves."  It is a
peculiar custom of the Turks, which we hardly find among any other
nation, that all their feasts, walks, business-transactions, and
even their dwellings, are in the midst of graves.  Every where, in
Constantinople, Pera, Galata, etc., one can scarcely walk a few
paces without passing several graves surrounded by cypresses.  We
wander continually between the living and the dead; but within four
and twenty hours I was quite reconciled to the circumstance.  During
the night-time I could pass the graves with as little dread as if I
were walking among the houses of the living.  Seen from a distance,
these numerous cypress-woods give to the town a peculiar fairy-like
appearance; I can think of nothing with which I could compare it.
Every where the tall trees appear, but the tombs are mostly hidden
from view.

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

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

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

Worse than all is the continual dread of conflagration in which we
live.  Large chests and baskets are kept in readiness in every
house; if a fire breaks out in the neighbourhood, all valuable
articles are rapidly thrown into these and conveyed away.  It is
customary to make a kind of contract with two or three Turks, who
are pledged, in consideration of a trifling monthly stipend, to
appear in the hour of danger, for the purpose of carrying the boxes
and lending a helping hand wherever they can.  It is safer by far to
reckon on the honesty of the Turks than on that of the Christians
and Greeks.  Instances in which a Turk has appropriated any portion
of the goods entrusted to his care are said to be of very rare
occurrence.  During the first nights of my stay I was alarmed at
every noise, particularly when the watchman, who paraded the
streets, happened to strike with his stick upon the stones.  In the
event of a conflagration, he must knock at every house-door and cry,
"Fire, fire!"  Heaven be praised, my fears were never realised.




CHAPTER III.


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

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

In company with a French physician, I traversed the Bosphorus in a
kaik. {48}  We passed by the "Leander's Tower," which stands in the
sea, a few hundred paces from the Asiatic coast, and has been so
frequently celebrated in song by the poets.  We soon arrived at our
destination.

It was with a peculiar feeling of emotion that for the first time in
my life I set foot on a new quarter of the globe.  Now, and not till
now, I seemed separated by an immeasurable distance from my home.
Afterwards, when I landed on the coast of Africa, the circumstance
did not produce the same impression on my mind.

Now at length I was standing in the quarter of the earth which had
been the cradle of the human race; where man had risen high, and had
again sunk so low that the Almighty had almost annihilated him in
his righteous anger.  And here in Asia it was that the Son of God
came on earth to bring the boon of redemption to fallen man.  My
long and warmly-cherished wish to tread this most wonderful of the
four quarters of the earth was at length fulfilled, and with God's
help I might confidently hope to reach the sacred region whence the
true light of the world had shone forth.

[Illustration 3.  Burial Place at Scutari. ill3.jpg]

Scutari is the place towards which the Mussulman looks with the hope
of one day reposing beneath its shade.  No disciple of any other
creed is allowed to be buried here; and here, therefore, the
Mahometan feels himself at home, and worthy of his Prophet.  The
cemetery is the grandest in the world.  One may wander for hours
through this grove of cypresses, without reaching the end.  On the
gravestones of the men turbans are sculptured; on those of the women
fruits and flowers:  the execution is in most cases very
indifferent.

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

THE HOWLING DERVISHES.

At two o'clock we entered the temple, a miserable wooden building.
Every Mussulman may take part in this religious ceremony; it is not
requisite that he should have attained to the rank and dignity of a
dervish.  Even children of eight or nine stand up in a row outside
the circle of men, to gain an early proficiency in these holy
exercises.

The commencement of the ceremony is the same as with the dancing
dervishes; they have spread out carpets and skins of beasts, and are
bowing and kissing the ground.  Now they stand up and form a circle
together with the laymen, when the chief begins in a yelling voice
to recite prayers from the Koran; by degrees those forming the
circle join in, and scream in concert.  For the first hour some
degree of order is still preserved; the performers rest frequently
to husband their strength, which will be exerted to the utmost at
the close of the ceremony.  But then the sight becomes as horrible
as one can well imagine any thing.  They vie with one another in
yelling and howling, and torture their faces, heads, and bodies into
an infinite variety of fantastic attitudes.  The roaring, which
resembles that of wild beasts, and the dreadful spasmodic
contortions of the actors' countenances, render this religious
ceremony a horrible and revolting spectacle.

The men stamp with their feet on the ground, jerk their heads
backwards and forwards, and certainly throw themselves into worse
contortions than those who are described as having been in old times
"vexed with a devil."  During the exercise they snatch the covering
from their heads, and gradually take off all their clothes, with the
exception of shirt and trousers.  The two high priests who stand
within the circle receive the garments one after another, kiss them,
and lay them on a heap together.  The priests beat time with their
hands, and after the garments have been laid aside the dance becomes
faster and faster.  Heavy drops of perspiration stand on every brow;
some are even foaming at the mouth.  The howling and roaring at
length reach such a dreadful pitch, that the spectator feels stunned
and bewildered.

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

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

At three o'clock the ceremony concluded.  I would not advise any
person afflicted with weak nerves to witness it, for he certainly
could not endure the sight.  I could have fancied myself among
raving lunatics and men possessed, rather than amidst reasonable
beings.  It was long before I could recover my composure, and
realise the idea that the infatuation of man could attain such a
pitch.  I was informed that before the ceremony they swallow opium,
to increase the wildness of their excitement!

The Achmaidon (place of arrows) deserves a visit, on account of the
beautiful view obtained thence; the traveller should see it, if he
be not too much pressed for time.  This is the place which the
Sultan sometimes honours by his presence when he wishes to practise
archery.

On an open space stands a kind of pulpit of masonry, from which the
Sultan shoots arrows into the air without mark or aim.  Where the
arrow falls, a pillar or pyramid is erected to commemorate the
remarkable event.  The whole space is thus covered with a number of
these monuments, most of them broken and weather-stained, and all
scattered in the greatest confusion.  Not far from this place is an
imperial kiosk, with a garden.  Both promise much when viewed from a
distance, but realise nothing when seen from within.

THE TOWER IN GALATA.

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

Two quarters of the globe, on the shores of two seas united by the
Bosphorus, lie spread before us.  The glorious hills with their
towns and villages, the number of palaces, gardens, kiosks, and
mosques, Chalcedon, the Prince's Islands, the Golden Horn, the
continual bustle on the sea, the immense fleet, besides the numerous
ships of other nations, the crowds of people in Pera, Galata, and
Topana--all unite to form a panorama of singular beauty.  The
richest fancy would fail in the attempt to portray such a scene; the
most practised pen would be unequal to the task of adequately
describing it.  But the gorgeous picture will be ever present to my
memory, though I lack the power of presenting it to the minds of
others.

Frequently, and each time with renewed pleasure, I ascended this
tower, and would sit there for hours, in admiration of the works of
the created and of the Creator.  Exhausted and weary with gazing was
I each time I returned to my home.  I think I may affirm that no
spot in the world can present such a view, or any thing that can be
compared with it.  I found how right I had been in undertaking this
journey in preference to any other.  Here another world lies
unfolded before my view.  Every thing here is new--nature, art, men,
manners, customs, and mode of life.  He who would see something
totally different from the every-day routine of European life in
European towns should come here.

THE BAZAAR.

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

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

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

The greatest number of streets occupied by the followers of any one
trade are those inhabited by the makers of shoes and slippers.  A
degree of magnificence is displayed in their shops such as a
stranger would scarcely expect to see.  There are slippers which are
worth 1000 piastres {53} a pair and more.  They are embroidered with
gold, and ornamented with pearls and precious stones.

The Bazaar is generally so much crowded, that it is a work of no
slight difficulty to get through it; yet the space in the middle is
very broad, and one has rarely to step aside to allow a carriage or
a horseman to pass.  But the bazaars and baths are the lounges and
gossiping places of the Turkish women.  Under the pretence of
bathing or of wishing to purchase something, they walk about here
for half a day together, amusing themselves with small-talk, love-
affairs, and with looking at the wares.

THE MOSQUES.

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

I had made up my mind that it would be impossible to quit
Constantinople without first seeing the four wonder-mosques, the Aja
Sofia, Sultan Achmed, Osmanije, and Soleimanije.

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

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

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

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

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

Not far from the Osmanije mosque is the

SLAVE-MARKET.

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

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

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

THE OLD SERAIL

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

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

THE HIPPODROME

is the largest and finest open place in Constantinople.  After those
of Cairo and Padua, it is the most spacious I have seen any where.
Two obelisks of red granite, covered with hieroglyphics, are the
only ornaments of this place.  The houses surrounding it are built,
according to the general fashion, of wood, and painted with oil-
colours of different tints.  I here noticed a great number of pretty
children's carriages, drawn by servants.  Many parents assembled
here to let their children be driven about.

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

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

COFFEE-HOUSES--STORY-TELLERS.

Before I bade farewell to Constantinople for the present and betook
me to Pera, I requested my guide to conduct me to a few coffee-
houses, that I might have a new opportunity of observing the
peculiar customs and mode of life of the Turks.  I had already
obtained some notion of the appearance of these places in Giurgewo
and Galatz; but in this imperial town I had fancied I should find
them somewhat neater and more ornamental.  But this delusion
vanished as soon as I entered the first coffee-house.  A wretchedly
dirty room, in which Turks, Greeks, Armenians, and others sat cross-
legged on divans, smoking and drinking coffee, was all I could
discover.  In the second house I visited I saw, with great disgust,
that the coffee-room was also used as a barber's shop; on one side
they were serving coffee, and on the other a Turk was having his
head shaved.  They say that bleeding is sometimes even carried on in
these booths.

In a coffee-house of a rather superior class we found one of the so-
called "story-tellers."  The audience sit round in a half-circle,
and the narrator stands in the foreground, and quietly begins a tale
from the Thousand and One Nights; but as he continues he becomes
inspired, and at length roars and gesticulates like the veriest
ranter among a company of strolling players.

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

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

EXCURSION TO EJUB,

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

Ejub, the standard-bearer of Mahomet, rests here in a magnificent
mosque, built entirely of white marble.  None but a Mussulman may
tread this hallowed shrine.  A tolerably good view of the interior
can, however, be obtained from without, as the windows are lofty and
broad, and reach nearly to the ground.  The sarcophagus stands in a
hall; it is covered with a richly embroidered pall, over which are
spread five or six "real" shawls.  The part beneath which the head
rests is surmounted by a turban, also of real shawls.  The chief
sarcophagus is surrounded by several smaller coffins, in which
repose the wives, children, and nearest relations of Ejub.  Hard by
the mosque we find a beautiful fountain of white marble, surrounded
by a railing of gilded iron, and furnished with twelve bright
drinking-cups of polished brass.  A Turk here is appointed expressly
to hand these to the passers-by.  A little crooked garden occupies
the space behind the mosque.  The mosques in which the dead sultans
are deposited are all built in the same manner as that of Ejub.
Instead of the turban, handsome fez-caps, with the heron's feather,
lie on the coffins.  Among the finest mosques is that in which
repose the remains of the late emperor.  In Ejub many very costly
monuments are to be seen.  They are generally surrounded by richly-
gilt iron railings, their peaks surmounted by the shining crescent,
and forming an arch above a sarcophagus, round which are planted
rose-bushes and dwarf cypresses, with ivy and myrtle clinging to
their stems.  It would, however, be very erroneous to suppose that
the rich alone lie buried here.  The poor man also finds his nook;
and frequently we see close by a splendid monument the modest stone
which marks the resting-place of the humble Mussulman.

On my return I met the funeral of a poor Turk.  If my attention had
not been attracted to the circumstance, I should have passed by
without heeding it.  The corpse was rolled in a cloth, fastened at
the head and at the feet, and laid on a board which a man carried on
his shoulder.  At the grave the dead man is once more washed,
wrapped in clean linen cloths, and thus lowered into the earth.  And
this is as it should be.  Why should the pomp and extravagance of
man accompany him to his last resting-place?  Were it not well if in
this matter we abated something of our conventionality and
ostentation?  I do not mean to say that interments need be stripped
of every thing like ornament; in all things the middle way is the
safest.  A simple funeral has surely in it more that awakes true
religious feeling than the pomp and splendour which are too
frequently made the order of the day in these proceedings.  In this
case are not men sometimes led away to canvass and to criticise the
splendour of the show, while they should be deducing a wholesome
moral lesson for themselves, or offering up a fervent prayer to the
Almighty for the peace of the departed spirit?

HOUSES--THEATRES--CARRIAGES.

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

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

The carriages--which are, generally speaking, only used by women--
are of two kinds.  The first is in the shape of a balloon, finely
painted and gilt, and furnished with high wheels.  On each side is
an opening, to enter which the passenger mounts on a wooden stool,
placed there by the coachman every time he ascends or descends.  The
windows or openings can be closed with Venetian blinds.  These
carriages contain neither seats nor cushion.  Every one who drives
out takes carpets or bolsters with him, spreads them out inside the
coach, and sits down cross-legged.  A carriage of this description
will hold four persons.  The second species of carriage only differs
from that already described in having still higher wheels, and
consisting of a kind of square box, covered in at the top, but open
on all sides.  The passengers enter at the back, and there is
generally room for eight persons.  The former kind of vehicle is
drawn by one horse in shafts, and sometimes by two; the latter by
one or two oxen, also harnessed in shafts, which are, however,
furnished in addition with a wooden arch decorated with flowers,
coloured paper, and ribbons.  The coachman walks on foot beside his
cattle, to guide them with greater security through the uneven ill-
paved streets, in which you are continually either ascending or
descending a hill.

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




CHAPTER IV.


Walks and drives of the townspeople--The "Sweet Waters"--
Chalcedonia--Baluklid--The great and little Campo--Feasts in
Constantinople--Anniversary of Mahomet's death--Easter holidays of
the Greeks--Gladiators and wrestlers--Excursion to Brussa--Olive-
trees--Mosques at Brussa--Stone bridge--Wild dogs--Baths and mineral
springs--Return to Constantinople.

On Sundays and holydays the "Sweet Waters" of Europe are much
frequented.  One generally crosses the Golden Horn, into which the
sweet water runs, in a kaik.  There is, however, another way thither
across the mountains.

A large grass-plat, surrounded by trees, is the goal towards which
the heaving multitude pours.  Here are to be seen people from all
quarters of the globe, and of all shades of colour, reclining in
perfect harmony on carpets, mats, and pillows, and solacing
themselves, pipe in mouth, with coffee and sweetmeats.  Many pretty
Jewesses, mostly unveiled, are to be seen among the crowd.

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

The trip across the sea to the Asiatic Sweet Waters is incomparably
more beautiful and interesting than the journey to the European.  We
travel up the Bosphorus, in the direction of the Black Sea, past the
splendid new palace of the Sultan.  Though this palace is chiefly of
wood, the pillars, staircases, and the ground-floor, built of marble
of dazzling whiteness, are strikingly beautiful.  The great gates,
of gilded cast-iron, may be called masterpieces; they were purchased
in England for the sum of 8000 pounds.  The roof of the palace is in
the form of a terrace, and round this terrace runs a magnificent
gallery, built only of wood, but artistically carved.  We also pass
the two ancient castles which command the approach to
Constantinople, and then turn to the right towards the Sweet Waters.
The situation of this place is most lovely; it lies in a beautiful
valley surrounded by green hills.

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

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

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

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

We disembarked immediately beyond the "Seven Towers," and walked for
half an hour through long empty streets, then out at the town-gate,
where the cypress-grove for a time conceals from our view a large
open space on which is built a pretty Greek church.  I was told that
during the holidays at Easter such riotous scenes were here enacted
that broken heads were far from being phenomena of rare occurrence.
In the church there is a cold spring containing little fishes.  A
legend goes, that on the high days at Easter these poor little
creatures swim about half fried and yet alive, because once upon a
time, when Constantinople was besieged, a general said that it was
no more likely that the city could be taken than that fishes could
swim about half fried.  Ever since that period the wonderful miracle
of the fried fish is said to occur annually at Easter.

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

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

FEASTS IN CONSTANTINOPLE.

During my residence in Constantinople I had the good fortune to be
present at some very entertaining festivities.  The most magnificent
of these took place on the 23d of April, the anniversary of
Mahomet's death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As the Greeks are not so good-natured as the Turks, the latter
seldom take part in their festivities.  Turkish women never appear
on these occasions.

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

In a plain surrounded on all sides by hills, men of all nations
formed a large but closely-packed circle.  Kavasses (gens d'arme)
were there to keep order among the people, and several officers sat
among the circle to keep order among the kavasses.  The spectacle
began.  Two wrestlers or gladiators made their appearance,
completely undressed, with the exception of trousers of strong
leather.  They had rubbed themselves all over with oil, so that
their joints might be soft and supple, and also that their adversary
should not be able to obtain a firm hold when they grappled
together.  They made several obeisances to the spectators, began
with minor feats of wrestling, and frequently stopped for a few
moments in order to husband their strength.  Then the battle began
afresh, and became hotter and hotter, till at length one of the
combatants was hailed as victor by the shouting mob.  He is declared
the conqueror who succeeds in throwing his opponent in such a manner
that he can sit down upon him as on a horse.  A combat of this kind
usually lasts a quarter of an hour.  The victor walks triumphantly
round the circle to collect his reward.  The unfortunate vanquished
conceals himself among the spectators, scarcely daring to lift his
eyes.  These games last for several hours; as one pair of gladiators
retire, they are replaced by another.

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

The Turkish officers were here polite enough to surrender the best
places to us strangers.  I had many opportunities of noticing the
character of the Mussulman, and found, to my great delight, that he
is much better and more honest than prejudices generally allow us to
believe.  Even in matters of commerce and business it is better to
have to do with a Turk than with a votary of any other creed, not
even excepting my own.

During my stay at Constantinople (from the 5th of April until May
17th) I found the weather just as changeable as in my own country;
so much so, in fact, that the temperature frequently varied twelve
or fourteen degrees within four-and-twenty hours.

EXCURSION TO BRUSSA.

The two brothers, Baron Charles and Frederick von Buseck, and Herr
Sattler, the talented artist, resolved to make an excursion to
Brussa; and as I had expressed a similar wish, they were obliging
enough to invite me to make a fourth in their party.  But when it
came to the point, I had almost become irresolute.  I was asked by
some one if I was a good rider; "for if you are not," said my
questioner, "it would be far better for you not to accompany them,
as Brussa is four German miles distant from Gemlek, and the road is
bad, so that the gentlemen must ride briskly if they wish to reach
the town before sundown, starting as they would at half-past two in
the afternoon, the general hour of landing at Gemlek.  In the event
of your being unable to keep up with the rest, you would put them to
great inconvenience, or they will be compelled to leave you behind
on the road."

I had never mounted a horse, and felt almost inclined to confess the
fact; but my curiosity to see Brussa, the beautiful town at the foot
of Olympus, gained the day, and I boldly declared that I had no
doubt I should be able to keep pace with my companions.

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

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

At half-past two o'clock the horses arrived.  I swung myself boldly
upon my Rosinante, called on my good angel to defend me, and away we
started, slowly at first, over stock and stone.  My joy was
boundless when I found that I could sit steadily upon my horse; but
shortly afterwards, when we broke into a trot, I began to feel
particularly uncomfortable, as I could not get on at all with the
stirrup, which was continually slipping to my heel, while sometimes
my foot slid out of it altogether, and I ran the risk of losing my
balance.  Oh, what would I not have given to have asked advice of
any one!  But unfortunately I could not do so without at once
betraying my ignorance of horsemanship.  I therefore took care to
bring up the rear, under the pretence that my horse was shy, and
would not go well unless it saw the others before it.  My real
reason was that I wished to hide my manoeuvres from the gentlemen,
for every moment I expected to fall.  Frequently I clutched the
saddle with both hands, as I swayed from side to side.  I looked
forward in terror to the gallop, but to my surprise found that I
could manage this pace better than the trot.  My courage brought its
reward, for I reached the goal of our journey thoroughly shaken, but
without mishap.  During the time that we travelled at a foot-pace, I
had found leisure to contemplate the scenery around us.  For half
the entire distance we ride from one valley into another; as often
as a hill is reached, there is a limited prospect before the
traveller, who has, however, only to turn his head, and he enjoys a
beautiful view over the Sea of Marmora.  After a ride of two hours
and a half we arrived at a little khan, {71a} where we rested for
half an hour.  Proceeding thence a short distance, we reached the
last hills; and the great valley, at the end of which Brussa is seen
leaning against Olympus, lay stretched before our eager eyes, while
behind us we could still distinguish, far beyond hill and dale, the
distant sea skirting the horizon.  Yet, beautiful as this landscape
undoubtedly is, I had seen it surpassed in Switzerland.  The immense
valley which lies spread out before Brussa is uncultivated,
deserted, and unwatered; no carpet of luxuriant verdure, no rushing
river, no pretty village, gives an air of life to this magnificent
and yet monotonous region; and no giant mountains covered with
eternal snow look down upon the plain beneath.  Pictures like these
I had frequently found in Switzerland, in the Tyrol, and also near
Salzburg.  Here I saw, indeed, separate beauties, but no harmonious
whole.  Olympus is a fine majestic mountain, forming an extended
barrier; but its height can scarcely exceed 6000 feet; {71b} and
during the present month it is totally despoiled of its surface of
glittering snow.  Brussa, with its innumerable minarets, is the only
point of relief to which the eye continually recurs, because there
is nothing beyond to attract it.  A little brook, crossed by a very
high stone bridge, but so shallow already in the middle of May as
hardly to cover our horses' hoofs; and towards Brussa, a miserable
village, with a few plantations of olives and mulberry-trees,--are
the only objects to be discovered throughout the whole wide expanse.
Wherever I found the olive-tree--here, near Trieste, and in Sicily,--
it was alike ugly.  The stem is gnarled, and the leaves are narrow
and of a dingy green colour.  The mulberry-tree, with its luxuriant
bright green foliage, forms an agreeable contrast to the olive.  The
silk produced in this neighbourhood is peculiarly fine in quality,
and the stuffs from Brussa are renowned far and wide.

We reached the town in safety before sunset.  It is one of the most
disagreeable circumstances that can happen to the traveller to
arrive at an Oriental town after evening has closed in.  He finds
the gates locked, and may clamour for admittance in vain.

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

May 14th.

Next morning we visited the town and its environs, under the
guidance and protection of a kavasse.  The town itself is of great
extent, and is reported to contain above 10,000 houses, inhabited
exclusively by Turks.  The population of the suburbs, which comprise
nearly 4000 houses, is a mixed one of Christians, Jews, Greeks, etc.
The town numbers three hundred and sixty mosques; but the greater
portion of them are so insignificant and in such a dilapidated
condition, that we scarcely observed them.

Strangers are here permitted to enter the mosques in company of a
kavasse.  We visited some of the principal, among which the Ulla
Drchamy may decidedly be reckoned.  The cupola of this mosque is
considered a masterpiece, and rests upon graceful columns.  It is
open at the top, thus diffusing a chastened light and a clear
atmosphere throughout the building.  Immediately beneath this cupola
stands a large marble basin, in which small fishes swim merrily
about.

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

A stone bridge, roofed throughout its entire length, crosses the bed
of the river, which has very steep banks, but contains very little
water.  A double row of small cottages, in which silk-weavers live
and ply their trade, lines this bridge, which I was surprised to see
here, as its architecture seemed rather to appertain to my own
country than to the East.  During my whole journey I did not see a
second bridge of this kind, either in Syria or Egypt.

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

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

Brussa is peculiarly rich in cold springs, clear as crystal, which
burst forth from Mount Olympus.  The town is intersected in all
directions by subterranean canals; in many streets, the ripple of
the waters below can be distinctly heard, and every house is
provided with wells and stone basins of the limpid element; in some
of the bazaars we find a similar arrangement.

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

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

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

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

The gentlemen were satisfied with my performance, for I had never
lagged behind, nor had they once been detained on my account.  It
was not until we were safely on board the ship that I told them how
venturesome I had been, and what terror I had undergone.




CHAPTER V.


Contradictory reports--Departure from Constantinople on board the
Archduke John--Scene on the steamer--Galipoli--The Dardanelles--
Tschenekalesi and Kilidil Bahar--The field of Troy--Tenedos--Smyrna--
Halizar--The date-palm--Burnaba--The Acropolis--Female beauty--
Rhodes--Strong fortifications--Deserted appearance of the town--
Cyprus.

The extremely unfavourable reports I heard from Beyrout and
Palestine caused me to defer my departure from day to day.  When I
applied to my consul for a "firmann" (Turkish passport), I was
strongly advised not to travel to the Holy Land.  The disturbances
on Mount Lebanon and the plague were, they assured me, enemies too
powerful to be encountered except in cases of the most urgent
necessity.

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

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

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

May 17th

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

It was with a feeling of painful emotion that I stood on the deck,
gazing with an air of abstraction at the preparations for the long
voyage which were actively going on around me.  Once more I was
alone among a crowd of people, with nothing to depend on but my
trust in Providence.  No friendly sympathetic being accompanied me
on board.  All was strange.  The people, the climate, country,
language, the manners and customs--all strange.  But a glance upward
at the unchanging stars, and the thought came into my soul, "Trust
in God, and thou art not alone."  And the feeling of despondency
passed away, and soon I could once more contemplate with pleasure
and interest all that was going on around me.

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

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

Suddenly there was a great crowding on the swinging ladder, of
chests, boxes, and baskets.  Men were pushing and crushing backwards
and forwards.  Turks, Greeks, and others quarrelled and jostled each
other for the best places on the upper deck, and in a few moments
the whole large expanse wore the appearance of a bivouac.  Mats and
mattresses were every where spread forth, provisions were piled up
in heaps, and culinary utensils placed in order beside them; and
before these preparations had been half completed the Turks began
washing their faces, hands, and feet, and unfolding their carpets,
to perform their devotions.  In one corner of the ship I even
noticed that a little low tent had been erected; it was so closely
locked, that for a long time I could not discern whether human
beings or merchandise lay concealed within.  No movement of the
interior was to be perceived, and it was not until some days
afterwards that I was informed by a Turk what the tent really
contained.  A scheick from the Syrian coast had purchased two girls
at Constantinople, and was endeavouring to conceal them from the
gaze of the curious.  I was for nine days on the same vessel with
these poor creatures, and during the whole time had not an
opportunity of seeing either of them.  At the debarcation, too, they
were so closely muffled that it was impossible to discover whether
they were white or black.

At six o'clock the bell was rung to warn all strangers to go ashore;
and now I could discover who were really to be the companions of my
journey.  I had flattered myself that I should find several Franks
on board, who might be bound to the same destination as myself; but
this hope waxed fainter and fainter every moment, as one European
after another left the ship, until at length I found myself alone
among the strange Oriental nations.

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

The beauty of the evening kept me on deck, and I looked with a
regretful feeling towards the imperial city, until the increasing
distance and the soft veil of evening combined to hide it from my
view, though at intervals the graceful minarets were still dimly
discernible through the mist.  But who shall describe my feelings of
joy when I discovered a European among the passengers?  Now I was no
longer alone; in the first moments we even seemed fellow-countrymen,
for the barriers that divide Europeans into different nations fall
as they enter a new quarter of the globe.  We did not ask each
other, Are you from England, France, Italy; we inquired, Whither are
you going? and on its appearing that this gentleman intended
proceeding, like myself, to Jerusalem, we at once found so much to
talk about concerning the journey, that neither of us thought for a
moment of inquiring to what country the other belonged.  We
conversed in the universal French language, and were perfectly
satisfied when we found we could understand each other.  It was not
until the following day that I discovered the gentleman to be an
Englishman, and learned that his name was Bartlett. {79}

In Constantinople we had both met with the same fate.  He had been,
like myself, unable to obtain any certain intelligence, either at
his consul's or from the inhabitants, as to the feasibility of a
journey to Jerusalem, and so he was going to seek further
information at Beyrout.  We arranged that we would perform the
journey from Beyrout to Jerusalem in company,--if, indeed, we found
it possible to penetrate among the savage tribes of Druses and
Maronites.  So now I no longer stood unprotected in the wide world.
I had found a companion as far as Jerusalem, the goal of my journey,
which I could now hope to reach.

I was well satisfied with the arrangements on board.  I had made up
my mind, though not without sundry misgivings, to take a second-
class berth; and on entering the steamer of the Austrian Lloyd, I
discovered to my surprise how much may be effected by order and good
management.  Here the men and the women were separately lodged,
wash-hand basins were not wanting, we fared well, and could not be
cheated when we paid for our board, as the accounts were managed by
the first mate:  on the remaining steamers belonging to this company
I found the arrangements equally good.

Crossing the Sea of Marmora, we passed the "Seven Towers," leaving
the Prince's Islands behind us on the left.

Early on the following day,

May 18th,

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

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

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

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

Here it is, then, that this famous city is supposed to have stood.
Yonder mounds, perchance, cover the resting-places of Achilles,
Patroclus, Ajax, Hector, and many other heroes who may have served
their country as faithfully as these, though their names do not live
in the page of history.  How gladly would I have trodden the plain,
there to muse on the legends which in my youth had already awakened
in me such deep and awe-struck interest, and had first aroused the
wish to visit these lands--a desire now partially fulfilled!  But we
flew by with relentless rapidity.  The whole region is deserted and
bare.  It seems as if nature and mankind were mourning together for
the days gone by.  The inhabitants may indeed weep, for they will
never again be what they once were.

In the course of the day we passed several islands.  In the
foreground towered the peak of the Hydrae, shortly afterwards
Samothrace rose from the waves, and we sailed close by the island of
Tenedos.  At first this island does not present a striking
appearance, but after rounding a small promontory we obtained a view
of the fine fortress skirting the sea; it seems to have been built
for the protection of the town beyond.

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

I remained on deck till late in the night, so charming, so rich in
varied pictures of verdant isles is this voyage on the AEgaean Sea.
Had I been a magician, I would have fixed the sun in the heavens
until we had arrived at Smyrna.  Unfortunately many a beauteous
island which we next morning contemplated ruefully on the map was
hidden from us by the shades of night.

May 19th.

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

A double chain of mountains, rising higher and higher, warned us of
our approach to the rich commercial city.  At first we can only
distinguish the ancient dilapidated castle on a rock, then the city
itself, built at the foot of the rock, on the sea-shore; at the back
the view is closed by the "Brother Mountains."

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

The "Franks' town," which can be distinctly viewed from the steamer,
extends along the harbour, and has a decidedly European air.

Herr von Cramer had been previously apprised of my arrival, and was
obliging enough to come on board to fetch me.  We at once rode to
Halizar, the summer residence of many of the citizens, where I was
introduced to my host's family.

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

Not far from this resting-place is the chief place of rendezvous and
pastime of the citizens.  It consists of a coffee-booth and a few
rows of trees, surrounded by numerous gardens, all rich in beautiful
fruit-trees.  Charming beyond all the rest, the flower of the
pomegranate-tree shines with the deepest crimson among the green
leaves.  Wild oleanders bloomed every where by the roadside.  We
wandered through beautiful shrubberies of cypress-trees and olives,
and never yet had I beheld so rich a luxuriance of vegetation.  This
valley, with its one side flanked by wild and rugged rocks, in
remarkable contrast to the fruitful landscape around, has a peculiar
effect when viewed from the hill across which we ride.  I was also
much amazed by the numerous little troops of from six to ten, or
even twenty camels, which sometimes came towards us with their grave
majestic pace, and were sometimes overtaken by our fleet donkeys.
Surrounded on all sides by objects at once novel and interesting, it
will not be wondered at that I found the time passing far too
rapidly.

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

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

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

In the evening I visited some of the peasants, in company with Herr
von C.  This gentleman informed me that these people were very poor,
but still I found them decently clad and comfortably lodged in large
roomy dwellings built of stone.  Altogether, the condition of
affairs seems here vastly superior to that in Galicia and in Hungary
near the Carpathian mountains.

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

May 20th

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May 21st.

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

May 22d.

This morning, shortly after five o'clock, we ran into the superb
harbour of Rhodes.  Here, for the first time, I obtained a correct
notion of a harbour.  That of Rhodes is shut in on all sides by
walls and masses of rock, leaving only a gap of a hundred and fifty
to two hundred paces in width for the ships to enter.  Here every
vessel can lie in perfect safety, be the sea outside the bar as
stormy as it may; the only drawback is, that the entering of this
harbour, a task of some difficulty in calm weather, becomes totally
impracticable during a storm.  A round tower stands as a protection
on either side of the entrance to the harbour.  The venerable church
of St. John and the palace of the Komthur can be distinguished
towering high above the houses and fortifications.

Our captain imparted to us the pleasant intelligence that we might
spend the hours between this and three o'clock in the afternoon on
shore.  Our ship had for some time lain surrounded by little boats,
and so we lost no time in being conveyed to the land.  The first
thing we did on reaching it was to ask questions concerning the
ancient site of the celebrated Colossus.  But we could gain no
information, as neither our books nor the people here could point
out the place to us with certainty; so we left the coast, to make up
for the disappointment by exploring the ancient city.

Rhodes is surrounded with three rows of strong fortifications.  We
passed over three drawbridges before entering the town.  We were
quite surprised to see the beautiful streets, the well-kept houses,
and the excellent pavement.  The principal street, containing the
houses of the ancient Knights of St. John, is very broad, with
buildings so massively constructed of stone as almost to resemble
fortresses.  Heraldic bearings, with dates carved in stone, grace
many of the Gothic gateways.  The French shield, with the three
lilies and the date 1402, occurs most frequently.  On the highest
point in the city are built the church of St. John and the house of
the governor.

All the exteriors seem in such good preservation, that one could
almost fancy the knights had only departed to plant their victorious
banner on the Holy Sepulchre.  They have in truth departed--departed
to a better home.  Centuries have breathed upon their ashes,
scattered in all the regions of the earth.  But their deeds have
been chronicled both in heaven and among men, and the heroes still
live in the admiration of posterity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was also much struck with the costumes worn by the country-people,
who were dressed quite in the Swabian fashion.  It was in vain that
I inquired the reason of this circumstance.  The books we had with
us gave no information on the subject, and I could not ask the
natives through my ignorance of their language.

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

May 23d.

To-day our organs of vision had a rest, for we were sailing on the
high seas.  Late in the evening, however, the sailors descried the
mountains of Cyprus looming in the far distance like a misty cloud.
With my less practised eyes I could see nothing but the sunset at
sea--a phenomenon of which I had had a more exalted conception.  The
rising and setting of the sun at sea is not nearly so striking a
spectacle as the same phenomenon in a rocky landscape.  At sea the
sky is generally cloudless in the evening, and the sun gradually
sinks, without refraction of rays or prismatic play of colours, into
its ocean-bed, to pursue its unchanging course the next day.  How
infinitely more grand is this spectacle when seen from the "Rigi
Kulm" in Switzerland!  There it is really a spectacle, in
contemplating which we feel impelled to fall on our knees in
speechless adoration, and admire the wisdom of the Almighty in his
wondrous works.

May 24th.

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

I should not have gone on shore at all, if Doctor Faaslanc, whose
acquaintance I had made at Constantinople, and who had been
appointed quarantine physician here four weeks before my departure,
had not come to fetch me.  The streets of Larnaka are unpaved, so
that we were obliged literally to wade more than ankle-deep in sand
and dust.  The houses are small, with irregular windows, sometimes
high and sometimes low, furnished with wooden grated shutters; and
the roofs are in the form of terraces.  This style of building I
found to be universal throughout Syria.

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

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

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

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




CHAPTER VI.


Arrival at Beyrout--Fellahs--Backsheesh--Uncomfortable quarters--
Saida--Tyre--St. Jean d'Acre--Caesarea--Excursion among the ruins--
Jaffa--An eastern family--The Indian fig-tree--An Oriental dinner--
Costume of the women of Jaffa--Oppressive heat--Gnats--Ramla--Syrian
convents--Bedouins and Arabs--Kariet el Areb, or Emmaus--The
Scheikh--Arrival at Jerusalem.

May 25th.

This morning I could discern the Syrian coast, which becomes more
glorious the nearer we approach.  Beyrout, the goal of our voyage,
was jealously hidden from our eyes to the very last moment.  We had
still to round a promontory, and then this Eden of the earth lay
before us in all its glory.  How gladly would I have retarded the
course of our vessel, as we passed from the last rocky point into
the harbour, to have enjoyed this sight a little longer!  One pair
of eyes does not suffice to take in this view; the objects are too
numerous, and the spectator is at a loss whither he should first
direct his gaze,--upon the town, with its many ancient towers
attached to the houses, giving them the air of knights' castles--
upon the numerous country-houses in the shade of luxurious mulberry
plantations--upon the beautiful valley between Beyrout and Mount
Lebanon--or on the distant mountain-range itself.  The towering
masses of this magnificent chain, the peculiar colour of its rocks,
and its snowclad summits, riveted my attention longer than any thing
else.

Scarcely had the anchor descended from the bows, before our ship was
besieged by a number of small boats, with more noise and bustle than
even at Constantinople.  The half-naked and excitable Arabs or
Fellahs are so ready with offers of service, that it is difficult to
keep them off.  It almost becomes necessary to threaten these poor
people with a stick, as they obstinately refuse to take a gentler
hint.  As the water is here very shallow, so that even the little
boats cannot come quite close to shore, some others of these brown
forms immediately approached, seized us by the arms, took us upon
their backs amidst continual shouting and quarrelling, and carried
us triumphantly to land.

Before the stranger puts himself into the hands of men of this kind,
such as captains of small craft, donkey-drivers, porters, etc., he
will find it a very wise precaution to settle the price he is to pay
for their services.  I generally spoke to the captain, or to some
old stager among the passengers, on this subject.  Even when I gave
these people double their usual price, they were not contented, but
demanded an additional backsheesh (gratuity).  It is therefore
advisable to make the first offer very small, and to retain
something for the backsheesh.  At length I safely reached the house
of Herr Battista (the only inn in the place), and was rejoicing in
the prospect of rest and refreshment, when the dismal cry of "no
room" was raised.  I was thus placed in a deplorable position.
There was no second inn, no convent, no place of any kind, where I,
poor desolate creature that I was, could find shelter.  This
circumstance worked so much on the host's feelings, that he
introduced me to his wife, and promised to procure me a private
lodging.

I had now certainly a roof above my head, but yet I could get no
rest, nor even command a corner where I might change my dress.  I
sat with my hostess from eleven in the morning until five in the
afternoon, and a miserably long time it appeared.  I could not read,
write, or even talk, for neither my hostess nor her children knew
any language but Arabic.  I had, however, time to notice what was
going on around me, and observed that these children were much more
lively than those in Constantinople, for here they were continually
chattering and running about.  According to the custom of the
country, the wife does nothing but play with the children or gossip
with the neighbours, while her husband attends to kitchen and
cellar, makes all the requisite purchases, and besides attending to
the guests, even lays the tablecloth for his wife and children.  He
told me that in a week at furthest, his wife would go with the
children to a convent on the Lebanon, to remain there during the hot
season of the year.  What a difference between an Oriental and a
European woman!

I still found the heat at sea far from unendurable; a soft wind
continually wafted its cooling influence towards us, and an awning
had been spread out to shelter us from the rays of the sun.  But
what a contrast when we come to land!  As I sat in the room here the
perspiration dropped continually from my brow, and now I began to
understand what is meant by being in the tropics.  I could scarcely
await the hour when I should be shewn to a room to change my
clothes; but to-day I was not to have an opportunity of doing so,
for at five o'clock a messenger came from Mr. Bartlett with the
welcome intelligence that we could continue our journey, as nothing
was to be feared from the Druses and Maronites, and the plague only
reigned in isolated places through which it was not necessary that
we should pass.  He had already engaged a servant who would act as
cook and dragoman (interpreter); provisions and cooking utensils had
also been bought, and places were engaged on an Arab craft.
Nothing, therefore, remained for me to do but to be on the sea-shore
by six o'clock, where his servant would be waiting for me.  I was
much rejoiced on hearing this good news:  I forgot that I required
rest and a change of clothes, packed up my bundle, and hurried to
the beach.  Of the town I only saw a few streets, where there was a
great bustle.  I also noticed many swarthy Arabs and Bedouins, who
wore nothing but a shirt.  I did not feel particularly anxious to
see Beyrout and its vicinity, as I intended to return soon and visit
any part I could not examine now.

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

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

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

Wrapping my cloak tightly round me, I lay down on the sacks, in the
absence of a mattress; but I was not yet sufficiently tired out to
be able to find rest on such an unusual couch.  So I rose again in
rather a bad humour, and looked with an evil eye on the Arabs lying
on the sacks around me, who were not "slumbering softly," but
snoring lustily.  By way of forcing myself, if possible, into a
poetical train of thought, I endeavoured to concentrate my attention
on the contemplation of the beautiful landscape by moonlight; but
even this would not keep me from yawning.  My companion seemed much
in the same mood; for he had also risen from his _soft_ couch, and
was staring gloomingly straight before him.  At length, towards
three o'clock in the morning of

May 26th,

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

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

Bargains of this kind must be taken down in writing at the
consulates, and only one-half of the sum agreed should be paid in
advance; the other half must be kept in hand, to operate as a check
on the crew.  After every precaution has been taken, one can seldom
escape without some bickering and quarrelling.  On these occasions
it is always advisable at once to take high ground, and not to give
way in the most trifling particular, for this is the only method of
gaining peace and quietness.

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

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

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

Next came the town of Tyre or Sur, now barren and deserted; for that
mighty scourge of humanity, the plague, was raging there to a
fearful extent.  A few scattered fragments of fortifications and
numerous fallen pillars lie strewed on the shore.

And now at length I was about to see places which many have longed
to behold, but which few have reached.  With a beating heart I gazed
unceasingly towards St. Jean d'Acre, which I at length saw rising
from the waves, with Mount Carmel in the background.  Here, then,
was the holy ground on which the Redeemer walked for us fallen
creatures!  Both St. Jean d'Acre and Mount Carmel can be
distinguished a long distance off.

For a second time did a mild and calm night sink gently on the earth
without bringing me repose.  How unlucky it is that we find it so
much harder to miss comforts we have been used to enjoy, than to
acquire the habit of using comforts to which we have been
unaccustomed!  Were this not the case, how much easier would
travelling be!  As it is, it costs us many an effort ere we can look
hardships boldly in the face.  "But patience!" thought I to myself;
"I shall have more to endure yet; and if I return safely, I shall be
as thoroughly case-hardened as any native."

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

From Beyrout to the neighbourhood of St. Jean d'Acre, the coast and
a considerable belt of land adjoining it are sandy and barren.  Near
Acre every thing changed; we once more beheld pretty country-houses
surrounded by pomegranate and orange plantations, and a noble
aqueduct intersects the plain.  Mount Carmel, alone barren and
unfruitful, stands in striking contrast to the beauteous landscape
around; jutting boldly out towards the sea, it forms the site of a
handsome and spacious convent.

The town of St. Jean d'Acre and its fortifications were completely
destroyed during the last war (in 1840), and appear to sigh in vain
for repairs.  The houses and mosques are full of cannon-balls and
shot-holes.  Every thing stands and lies about as though the enemy
had departed but yesterday.  Six cannons peer threateningly from the
wall.  The town and fortifications are both built on a tongue of
land washed by the sea.

May 27th.

During the night we reached Caesarea.  With the eloquence of a
Demosthenes, our captain endeavoured to dissuade us from our project
of landing here; he pointed out to us the dangers to which we were
exposing ourselves, and the risks we should run from Bedouins and
snakes.  The former, he averred, were accustomed to conceal
themselves in hordes among the ruins, in order to ease travellers of
their effects and money; being well aware that such spots were only
visited by curious tourists with well-filled purses, they were
continually on the watch, like the robber-knights of the good old
German empire.  "An enemy no less formidable," said the captain,
"was to be encountered in the persons of numerous snakes lurking in
the old walls and on the weed-covered ground, which endangered the
life of the traveller at every step."  We were perfectly well aware
of these facts, having gleaned them partly from descriptions of
voyages, partly from oral traditions; and so they were not powerful
enough to arrest our curiosity.  The captain himself was really less
actuated by the sense of our danger, in advising us to abandon our
undertaking, than by the reflection of the time it lost him; but he
exerted himself in vain.  He was obliged to cast anchor, and at
daybreak to send a boat ashore with us.

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

In the ruins we certainly met with a few suspicious-looking
characters in the shape of wandering Bedouins.  As it was too late
to beat a retreat, we advanced bravely towards them with trusting
and friendly looks.  The Bedouins did the same, and so there was an
end of this dangerous affair.  We climbed from one fragment to
another, and certainly spent more than two hours among the ruins,
without sustaining the slightest injury at the hands of these
people.  Of the threatened snakes we saw not a single one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Consul and his son were also clothed in the Turkish garb; but
instead of a turban the father wore an old cocked hat, which gave
him an indescribably ludicrous appearance.  A son and a daughter of
this worthy patron of the semi-Turkish, semi-European garb, had but
one eye, a defect frequently met with in Syria.  It is generally
supposed to be caused by the dry heat, the fine particles of sand,
and the intense glare of the chalky hills.

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

The neighbourhood of Joppa is exceedingly fertile.  Numerous large
gardens, with trees laden with all kinds of tropical fruits, and
guarded by impenetrable hedges of the Indian fig-tree, form a half-
circle round the lower portion of the town.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our conversation during dinner was most interesting.  Some of the
family spoke a little Italian, but this little was pronounced with
such a strong Greek accent, that I was obliged to guess at the
greater portion of what was said.  No doubt they had to do the same
with me.  The worthy Consul, indeed, affirmed that he knew French
very well; but for this evening at least, his memory seemed to have
given him the slip.  Much was spoken, and little understood.  The
same thing is said often to be the case in learned societies; so it
was not of much consequence.

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

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

I slept in the apartment of the married daughter; but had it not
been for the beds standing round, I should rather have looked upon
it as an old store-closet than a lady's sleeping-room.

May 28th.

At five o'clock in the morning Mr. Bartlett's servant came to fetch
me away, as we were at once to continue our journey.  I betook
myself to the house of the English Consul, where I found neither a
horse nor any thing else prepared for our departure.  It is
necessary to look calmly upon these irregularities here in the East,
where it is esteemed a fortunate occurrence if the horses and mukers
(as the drivers of horses and donkeys are called) are only a few
hours behind their time.  Thus our horses made their appearance at
half-past five instead of at four, the hour for which they had been
ordered.  Our baggage was soon securely fixed, for we left the
greater portion of our effects at Joppa, and took with us only what
was indispensably necessary.

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

The dress of females belonging to the lower orders consists of a
long blue garment fastened round the throat, and reaching below the
ankle.  They completely cover the head and face, frequently without
even leaving openings for the eyes.  Some females, on the other
hand, go abroad with their faces totally uncovered.  These are,
however, exceptional cases.

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

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

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

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

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

A most comical effect was produced when we met long processions of
small donkeys, so completely laden with corn, that neither their
heads nor their feet remained visible.  The sheaves seemed to be
moving spontaneously, or to be propelled by the power of steam.
Frequently after a train of this kind has passed, lofty grey heads
appear, surrounded by a load piled up to so great a height, that one
would suppose large corn-wagons were approaching rather than the
"ship of the desert," the camel.  The traveller's attention is
continually attracted to some novel and curious object totally
dissimilar to any thing he has seen at home.

Towards ten o'clock we arrived at Ramla, a place situate on a little
hill, and discernible from a great distance.  Before reaching the
town, we had to pass through an olive-wood.  Leaving our horses
beneath a shady tree, we entered the coppice on the right:  a walk
of about a quarter of a mile brought us to the "Tower of the Forty
Martyrs," which was converted into a church during the time of the
Knights Templars, and now serves as a dwelling for dervishes.  It is
a complete ruin, and I could scarcely believe that it was still
habitable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

An uninterrupted ride of five hours over very bad roads, from the
entrance of the mountain-range, added to the extreme heat and total
want of proper refreshment, suddenly brought on such a violent
giddiness that I could scarcely keep myself from falling off my
horse.  Although we had been on horseback for eleven hours since
leaving Joppa, I was so much afraid that Mr. B. would consider me
weak and ailing, and perhaps change his intention of accompanying me
from Jerusalem back to Joppa, that I refrained from acquainting him
with the condition in which I felt myself.  I therefore dismounted
(had I not done so, I should soon have fallen down), and walked with
tottering steps beside my horse, until I felt so far recovered that
I could mount once more.  Mr. B. had determined to perform the
distance from Joppa to Jerusalem (a sixteen hours' ride) at one
stretch.  He indeed asked me if I could bear so much fatigue; but I
was unwilling to abuse his kindness, and therefore assured him that
I could manage to ride on for five or six hours longer.  Fortunately
for my reputation, my companion was soon afterwards attacked with
the same symptoms that troubled me so much; he now began to think
that it might, after all, be advisable to rest for a few hours in
the next village, especially as we could not hope in any case to
reach the gates of Jerusalem before sundown.  I felt silently
thankful for this opportune occurrence, and left the question of
going on or stopping altogether to the decision of my fellow-
traveller, particularly as I knew the course he would choose.  Thus
I accomplished my object without being obliged to confess my
weakness.  In pursuance of this resolve, we stayed in the
neighbouring village of "Kariet el Areb," the ancient Emmaus, where
the risen Saviour met the disciples, and where we find a ruin of a
Christian church in a tolerable state of preservation.  The building
is now used as a stable.  Some years ago this was the haunt of a
famous robber, who was scheikh of the place, and let no Frank pass
before he had paid whatever tribute he chose to demand.  Since the
accession of Mehemet Ali these exactions have ceased both here and
in Jerusalem, where money was demanded of the stranger for admission
into the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and other sacred places.  Even
highway robberies, which were once on a time of daily occurrence
among these mountains, are now rarely heard of.

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

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

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

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

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

About an hour's journey from Jerusalem the valley opens, and little
orchards give indication of a more fertile country, as well as of
the proximity of the Holy City.  Silently and thoughtfully we
approached our destination, straining our eyes to the utmost to
pierce the jealous twilight that shrouded the distance from our
gaze.  From the next hill we hoped to behold our sacred goal; but
"hope deferred" is often the lot of mortals.  We had to ascend
another height, and another; at length the Mount of Olives lay
spread before us, and lastly JERUSALEM.




CHAPTER VII.


Residence at Jerusalem--Catholic church--The "Nuova Casa"--Via
Dolorosa--Pilate's house--The Mosque Omar--Herod's house--Church of
the Holy Sepulchre--Disturbances at the Greek Easter feasts--Knights
of the Holy Sepulchre--Mount of Olives--Adventure among the ruin--
Mount of Offence--Valley of Jehosaphat--Siloam--Mount Sion--
Jeremiah's grotto--Graves.

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

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

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

The amount of devotion manifested by these people is very small; the
most trifling circumstance suffices to distract their attention.
For instance, my appearance seemed to create quite a sensation among
them, and they made their remarks upon me to one another so openly
both by words and gestures, that I found it quite impossible to give
my mind to seriousness and devotion.  Some of them pushed purposely
against me, and put out their hands to grasp my bonnet, etc.  They
conversed together a good deal, and prayed very little.  The
children behaved no better; these little people ate their breakfast
while the service was going on, and occasionally jostled each other,
probably to keep themselves awake.  The good people here must fancy
they are doing a meritorious work by passing two or three hours in
the church; no one seems to care _how_ this time is spent, or they
would assuredly have been taught better.

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

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

At eleven o'clock the German priest, Father Paul, visited me, in
order to explain the domestic arrangements to me.  Dinner is eaten
at twelve o'clock, and supper at seven.  At breakfast we get coffee
without sugar or milk; for dinner, mutton-broth, a piece of roast
kid, pastry prepared with oil or a dish of cucumbers, and, as a
concluding course, roast or spiced mutton.  Twice in the week,
namely on Fridays and Saturdays, we have fast-day fare; but if the
feast of a particular saint falls during the week, a thing that
frequently occurs, we hold three fast-days, the one of the saint's
day being kept as a time of abstinence.  The fare on fast-days
consists of a dish of lentils, an omelette, and two dishes of salt
fish, one hot and the other cold.  Bread and wine, as also these
provisions, are doled out in sufficient quantities.  But every thing
is very indifferently cooked, and it takes a long time for a
stranger to accustom himself to the ever-recurring dishes of mutton.
In Syria oxen and calves are not killed during the summer season; so
that from the 19th of May until my journey to Egypt in the beginning
of September, I could get neither beef-soup nor beef.

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

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

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

Next we visited Pilate's house, which is partly a ruin, the
remaining portion serving as a barrack for Turkish soldiers.  I was
shewn the spot where the "holy stairs" stood, up which our Lord is
said to have walked.  On my return, I saw these stairs in the church
of S. Giovanni di Laterani.  They also pretend to show the place
where the Saviour was brought out before the multitude by Pilate.  A
little distance off, in the midst 

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