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THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS, VOL. XIX

TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE

Joint Editors

ARTHUR MEE
Editor and Founder of the Book of Knowledge

J. A. HAMMERTON
Editor of Harmsworth's Universal Encyclopaedia







[Illustration: James Boswell]



Wm. H. Wise & Co.

Copyright, MCMX Mckinlay, Stone & Mackenzie




Table of Contents


 PORTRAIT OF JAMES BOSWELL                 _Frontispiece_

 BAKER, SIR SAMUEL                                  Page
   Albert N'yanza                                      1

 BORROW, GEORGE
   Wild Wales                                         13
   Bible in Spain                                     22

 BOSWELL, JAMES
   Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides                  37

 BRUCE, JAMES
   Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile         47

 BURCKHARDT, JOHN LEWIS
   Travels in Nubia                                   57

 BURTON, SIR RICHARD
   Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah                67

 BUTLER, SIR WILLIAM
   Great Lone Land                                    79
   Wild North Land                                    89

 COOK, JAMES
   Voyages Round the World                           100

 DAMPIER, WILLIAM
   New Voyage Round the World                        112

 DARWIN, CHARLES
   Voyage of H. M. S. Beagle                         124

 DUBOIS, FELIX
   Timbuctoo the Mysterious                          136

 HAKLUYT, RICHARD
   Principal Navigations                             148

 KINGLAKE, A. W.
   Eothen                                            159

 LAYARD, AUSTEN HENRY
   Nineveh and Its Remains                           171

 LINNÆUS, CAROLUS
   Tour in Lapland                                   181

 LIVINGSTONE, DAVID
   Missionary Travels and Researches                 191

 LOTI, PIERRE
   Desert                                            201

 MANDEVILLE, SIR JOHN
   Voyage and Travel                                 210

 PARK, MUNGO
   Travels in the Interior of Africa                 219

 POLO, MARCO
   Travels                                           229

 SAINT PIERRE, BERNADIN DE
   Voyage to the Isle of France                      241

 SPEKE, JOHN HANNING
   Discovery of the Source of the Nile               251

 STERNE, LAURENCE
   Sentimental Journey through France and Italy      263

 VOLTAIRE
   Letters on the English                            275

 WALLACE, ALFRED RUSSEL
   Travels on the Amazon                             285

 WARBURTON, ELIOT
   Crescent and the Cross                            299

 WATERTON, CHARLES
   Wanderings in South America                       313

 YOUNG, ARTHUR
   Travels in France                                 327

A Complete Index of THE WORLD'S GREATEST BOOKS will be found at the end
of Volume XX.




_Travel and Adventure_

SIR SAMUEL BAKER

The Albert N'yanza


_I.--Explorations of the Nile Source_

  Sir Samuel White Baker was born in London, on June 8,
  1821. From early manhood he devoted himself to a life of
  adventure. After a year in Mauritius he founded a colony
  in the mountains of Ceylon at Newera Eliya, and later
  constructed the railway across the Dobrudsha. His
  discovery of the Albert N'yanza completed the labours of
  Speke and Grant, and solved the mystery of the Nile.
  Baker's administration of the Soudan was the first great
  effort to arrest the slave trade in the Nile Basin, and
  also the first step towards the establishment of the
  British Protectorate of Uganda and Somaliland. Baker died
  on December 30, 1893. He was a voluminous writer, and his
  books had immense popularity. "The Albert N'yanza" may be
  regarded as the most important of his works of travel by
  reason of the exploration which it records rather than on
  account of any exceptional literary merit. Here his story
  is one of such thrilling interest that even a dull writer
  could scarce have failed to hold the attention of any
  reader by its straightforward narration.

In March, 1861, I commenced an expedition to discover the sources of the
Nile, with the hope of meeting the East African Expedition of Captains
Speke and Grant that had been sent by the English Government from the
south, via Zanzibar, for that object. From my youth I had been inured to
hardships and endurance in wild sports in tropical climates; and when I
gazed upon the map of Africa I had the hope that I might, by
perseverance, reach the heart of Africa. Had I been alone it would have
been no hard lot to die upon the untrodden path before me; but my wife
resolved, with woman's constancy, to leave the luxuries of home and
share all danger, and to follow me through each rough step in the wild
life in which I was about to engage. Thus accompanied, on April 15,
1861, I sailed up the Nile from Cairo to Korosko; and thence, by a
forced camel march across the Nubian desert, we reached the river of
Abou Hamed, and, still on camels, though within view of the palm-trees
that bordered the Nile, we came to Berber. I spent a year in learning
Arabic, and while doing so explored the Atbara, which joins the Nile
twenty miles south of Berber, and the Blue Nile, which joins the main
stream at Khartoum, with all their affluents from the mountains of
Abyssinia. The general result of these explorations was that I found
that the waters of the Atbara when in flood are dense with soil washed
from the fertile lands scoured by its tributaries after the melting of
the snows and the rainy season; and these, joining with the Blue Nile in
full flood, also charged with a red earthy matter, cause the annual
inundation in Lower Egypt, the sediment from which gives to that country
its remarkable fertility.

I reached Khartoum, the capital of the Soudan, on June 11, 1862. Moosa
Pasha was at that time governor-general. He was a rather exaggerated
specimen of Turkish authority, combining the worst of oriental failings
with the brutality of the wild animal. At that time the Soudan was of
little commercial importance to Egypt. What prompted the occupation of
the country by the Egyptians was that the Soudan supplied slaves not
only for Egypt, but for Arabia and Persia.

In the face of determined opposition of Moosa Pasha and the Nile
traders, who were persuaded that my object in penetrating into unknown
Central Africa was to put a stop to the nefarious slave traffic, I
organised my expedition. It consisted of three vessels--a good decked
diahbiah (for my wife, and myself and our personal attendants), and two
noggurs, or sailing-barges--the latter to take stores, twenty-one
donkeys, four camels and four horses. Forty-five armed men as escort,
and forty sailors, all in brown uniform, with servants--ninety-six men
in all--constituted my personnel.

On February 2, 1863, we reached Gondokoro, where I landed my animals and
stores. It is a curious circumstance that, although many Europeans had
been as far south as Gondokoro, I was the first Englishman who had ever
reached it. Gondokoro I found a perfect hell. There were about 600
slave-hunters and ivory-traders and their people, who passed the whole
of their time in drinking, quarrelling and ill-treating the slaves, of
which the camps were full; and the natives assured me that there were
large depots of slaves in the interior who would be marched to Gondokoro
for shipment to the Soudan a few hours after my departure.

I had heard rumours of Speke and Grant, and determined to wait for a
time before proceeding forward. Before very long there was a mutiny
among my men, who wanted to make a "razzia" upon the cattle of the
natives, which, of course, I prohibited. It had been instigated by the
traders, who were determined, if possible, to stop my advance. With the
heroic assistance of my wife, I quelled the revolt. On February 15, on
the rattle of musketry at a great distance, my men rushed madly to my
boat with the report that two white men, who had come from the sea, had
arrived. Could they be Speke and Grant? Off I ran, and soon met them in
reality; and, with a heart beating with joy, I took off my cap and gave
a welcome hurrah! We were shortly seated on the deck of my diahbiah
under the awning; and such rough fare as could be hastily prepared was
set before these two ragged, careworn specimens of African travel. At
the first blush of meeting them I considered my expedition as
terminated, since they had discovered the Nile source; but upon my
congratulating them with all my heart upon the honours they had so nobly
earned, Speke and Grant, with characteristic generosity, gave me a map
of their route, showing that they had been unable to complete the actual
exploration of the Nile, and that the most important portion still
remained to be determined. It appeared that in N. lat. 2° 17' they had
crossed the Nile, which they had tracked from the Victoria Lake; but the
river, which from its exit from that lake had a northern course, turned
suddenly to the west from Karuma Falls (the point at which they crossed
it at lat. 2° 17'). They did not see the Nile again until they arrived
in N. lat. 3° 32', which was then flowing from the W.S.W. The natives
and the King of Unyoro (Kamrasi) had assured them that the Nile from the
Victoria N'yanza, which they had crossed at Karuma, flowed westward for
several days' journey, and at length fell into a large lake called the
Luta N'zige; that this lake came from the south, and that the Nile, on
entering the northern extremity, almost immediately made its exit, and,
as a navigable river, continued its course to the north, through the
Koshi and Madi countries. Both Speke and Grant attached great importance
to this lake Luta N'zige; and the former was much annoyed that it had
been impossible for them to carry out the exploration.

I now heard that the field was not only open, but that an additional
interest was given to the exploration by the proof that the Nile flowed
out of one great lake, the Victoria, but that it evidently must derive
an additional supply from an unknown lake as it entered it at the
northern extremity, while the body of the lake came from the south. The
fact of a great body of water, such as the Luta N'zige, extending in a
direct line from south to north, while the general system of drainage of
the Nile was from the same direction, showed most conclusively that the
Luta N'zige, if it existed in the form assumed, must have an important
position in the basin of the Nile. I determined, therefore, to go on.
Speke and Grant, who were naturally anxious to reach England as soon as
possible, sailed in my boat, on February 26, from Gondokoro for
Khartoum. Our hearts were much too full to say more than a short "God
bless you!" They had won their victory; my work lay all before me.


_II.--Perils of Darkest Africa_

My plan was to follow a party of traders known by the name of "Turks,"
and led by an Arab named Ibrahim, which was going to the Latooka country
to trade for ivory and slaves, trusting to Providence, good fortune, and
the virtue of presents. That party set out early in the afternoon of
March 26, 1863. I had secured some rather unwilling men as drivers and
porters, and was accompanied by two trusty followers, Richarn and a boy
Saat, both of whom had been brought up in the Austrian mission in
Khartoum. We had neither guide nor interpreter; but when the moon rose,
knowing that the route lay on the east side of the mountain of Belignan,
I led the way on my horse Filfil, Mrs. Baker riding by my side on my old
Abyssinian hunter, Tétel, and the British flag following behind us as a
guide for the caravan of heavily laden camels and donkeys. We pushed on
over rough country intersected by ravines till we came to the valley of
Tollogo, bounded with perpendicular walls of grey granite, one thousand
feet in height, the natives of which were much excited at the sight of
the horses and the camels, which were to them unknown animals. After
passing through this defile, Ibrahim and his "Turks," whom we had passed
during the previous night, overtook us. These slave-hunters and
ivory-traders threatened effectually to spoil our enterprise, if not to
secure the murder of Mrs. Baker, myself and my entire party, by raising
the suspicion and enmity of the native tribes. We afterwards found that
there had been a conspiracy to do this. We thought it best, therefore,
to parley with Ibrahim, and came to terms with him by means of bribes of
a double-barrelled gun and some gold.

Under his auspices our joint caravan cleared the palisaded villages of
Ellyria, after paying blackmail to the chief, Leggé, whose villainous
countenance was stamped with ferocity, avarice and sensuality. Glad to
escape from this country, we crossed the Kan[=i][=e]ti river, a
tributary of the Sobat, itself a tributary of the White Nile, and
entered the country of Latooka, which is bounded by the Lafeet chain of
mountains. In the forests and on the plain were countless elephants,
giraffes, buffaloes, rhinoceroses, and varieties of large antelopes,
together with winged game. The natives are the finest savages I have
ever seen, their average height being five feet eleven and a half
inches, and their facial features remarkably pleasing. We stayed on many
weeks at Tarrangollé, the capital, which is completely surrounded by
palisaded walls, within which are over three thousand houses, each a
little fort in itself, and kraals for twelve thousand head of cattle. In
the neighbourhood I had some splendid big-game shooting; but we had
difficulties with repeated mutinies of our men.

Early in May we left Latooka, and crossed a high mountain chain by a
pass 2,500 feet in height into the beautiful country of Obbo. This is a
fertile plateau, 3,674 feet above sea-level, with abundance of wild
grapes and other fruits, yams, nuts, flax, tobacco, etc.; but the
travelling was difficult owing to the high grass. The people are
pleasant-featured and good-natured, and the chief, Katchiba, maintains
his authority by a species of hocus-pocus, or sorcery. He is a merry
soul, has a multiplicity of wives--a bevy in each village--so that when
he travels through his kingdom he is always at home. His children number
116, and the government is quite a family affair, for he has one of his
sons as chief in every village. A native of Obbo showed me some
cowrie-shells which he said came from a country called Magungo,
situated on a lake so large that no one knew its limits. This lake, said
I, can be no other than Luta N'zige which Speke had heard of, and I
shall take the first opportunity to push for Magungo.

We returned to Latooka to pick up our stores and rejoin Ibrahim, but
were detained by the illness of Mrs. Baker and myself and the loss of
some of my transport animals. The joint caravan left Latooka on June 23
for Unyoro, Mrs. Baker in an improvised palanquin. The weather was
wretched. Constant rains made progress slow; and the natives of the
districts through which we passed were dying like flies from smallpox.
When we at last reached Obbo we could proceed no further.

My wife and I were so ill with bilious fever that we could not assist
each other; my horses, camels and donkeys all died. Flies by day, rats
and innumerable bugs by night in the miserable hut where we were
located, lions roaring through the dark, never-ending rains, made for
many weary months of Obbo a prison about as disagreeable as could be
imagined. Having purchased some oxen in lieu of horses and baggage
animals, we at length were able to leave Obbo on January 5, 1864,
passing through Far[=a]joke, crossing the river Asua at an altitude of
2,875 feet above sea-level, and then on to Fatiko, the capital of the
Shooa country, at an altitude of 3,877 feet.


_III.--Discovery of the Nile's Sources_

Shooa proved a land flowing with milk and honey. Provisions of every
kind were abundant and cheap. The pure air invigorated Mrs. Baker and
myself; and on January 18 we left Shooa for Unyoro, Kamrasi's country.
On the 22nd we struck the Somerset River, or the Victoria White Nile,
and crossed it at the Karuma Falls, marching thence to M'rooli,
Kamrasi's capital, at the junction of the Kafoor River with the
Somerset, which was reached on February 10. Here we were detained till
February 21, with exasperating excuses for preventing us going further,
and audacious demands from Kamrasi for everything that I had, including
my last watch and my wife! We were surrounded by a great number of
natives, and, as my suspicions of treachery appeared confirmed, I drew
my revolver, resolved that if this was to be the end of the expedition
it should also be the end of Kamrasi. I held the revolver within two
feet of his chest, looked at him with undisguised contempt, and told him
that if he dared to repeat the insult I would shoot him on the spot. My
wife also made him a speech in Arabic (not a word of which he
understood), with a countenance as amiable as the head of a Medusa.
Altogether, the _mise en scène_ utterly astonished him, and he let us
go, furnishing us with a guide named Rabongo to take us to M'wootan
N'zige, not Luta N'zige, as Speke had erroneously suggested. In crossing
the Kafoor River on a bridge of floating weeds, Mrs. Baker had a
sunstroke, fell through the weeds into deep water, and was rescued with
great difficulty. For many days she remained in a deep torpor, and was
carried on a litter while we marched through an awful broken country.
The torpor was followed by brain fever, with its attendant horrors. The
rain poured in torrents; and day after day we were forced to travel for
want of provisions, as in the deserted villages there were no supplies.
Sometimes in the forest we procured wild honey, and rarely I was able to
shoot a few guinea-fowl. We reached a village one night following a day
on which my wife had had violent convulsions. I laid her down on a
litter within a hut, covered her with a Scotch plaid, and I fell upon my
mat insensible, worn out with sorrow and fatigue. When I woke the next
morning I found my wife breathing gently, the fever gone, the eyes calm.
She was saved! The gratitude of that moment I will not attempt to
describe.

On March 14 the day broke beautifully clear; and, having crossed a deep
valley between the hills, we toiled op the opposite slope. I hurried to
the summit. The glory of our prize burst suddenly upon me! There, like a
sea of quicksilver, lay, far beneath, the grand expanse of water, a
boundless sea horizon on the south and south-west, glittering in the
noon-day sun; and on the west, fifty or sixty miles distant, blue
mountains rose from the bosom of the lake to a height of 7,000 feet
above its level. It is impossible to describe the triumph of that
moment. Here was the reward for all our labour--for the years of
tenacity with which we had toiled through Africa. England had won the
sources of the Nile!

I was about 1,500 feet above the lake; and I looked down from the steep
granite cliff upon those welcome waters, upon that vast reservoir which
nourished Egypt, and brought fertility where all was wilderness, upon
that great source so long hidden from mankind; that source of bounty and
of blessing to millions of human beings; and, as one of the greatest
objects in Nature, I determined to honour it with a great name. As an
imperishable memorial of one loved and mourned by our gracious queen,
and deplored by every Englishman, I called this great lake "The Albert
N'yanza." The Victoria and the Albert Lakes are the two sources of the
Nile.


_IV.--Exploring the Great Lake_

The zigzag path of the descent to the lake was so steep and dangerous
that we were forced to leave our oxen with a guide, who was to take them
to Magungo, and wait for our arrival. We commenced the descent of the
steep pass on foot. I led the way, grasping a stout bamboo. My wife, in
extreme weakness, tottered down the pass, supporting herself on my
shoulder, and stopping to rest every twenty paces. After a toilsome
descent of about two hours, weak with years of fever, but for the
moment strengthened by success, we gained the level plain below the
cliff. A walk of about a mile through flat sandy meadows of fine turf,
interspersed with trees and bush, brought us to the water's edge. The
waves were rolling upon a white pebbly beach. I rushed into the lake,
and, thirsty with fatigue, with a heart full of gratitude, I drank deep
from the sources of the Nile. Within a quarter of a mile of the lake was
a fishing village named Vacovia, in which we now established ourselves.

At sunrise of the following morning I took the compass to the borders of
the lake to survey the country. It was beautifully clear; and with a
powerful telescope I could distinguish two large waterfalls that cleft
the sides of the mountains like threads of silver. My wife, who had
followed me so devotedly, stood by my side pale and exhausted--a wreck
upon the shores of the great Albert Lake that we had so long striven to
reach. No European foot had ever trod upon its sand, nor had the eyes of
a white man ever scanned its vast expanse of water. We were the first;
and this was the key to the great secret that even Julius Caesar yearned
to unravel, but in vain!

Having procured two canoes, we started on a voyage of exploration
northward on the lake. Along the east coast, with cliffs 1,500 feet in
height, we discovered a waterfall of 1,000 feet drop, formed by the
Kaiigiri River emptying itself in the lake. On shore there were many
elephants, and in the lake hundreds of hippopotami and crocodiles. We
made narrow escapes of shipwreck on several occasions; and on the
thirteenth day of our voyage the lake contracted to between fifteen and
twenty miles in width, but the canoe came into a perfect wilderness of
aquatic vegetation. On the western shore was the kingdom of Malegga, and
a chain of mountains 4,000 feet high, but decreasing in height towards
the north. We reached the long-sought town of Magungo, and entered a
channel, which we were informed was the embouchure of the Somerset
River, from the Victoria N'yanza, the same river we had crossed at
Karuma. Here we found our guide Rabonga and the riding oxen. The town
and general level of the country was 500 feet above the water. A few
miles to the north was a gap in the Malegga range; due N. E. the country
was a dead flat; and as far as the eye could reach was an extent of
bright green reeds marking the course of the Nile as it made its exit
out of the lake. The natives refused most positively to take me down the
Nile outlet on account of their dread of the Madi people on its banks. I
determined, therefore, to go by canoe up the Somerset River, and finally
to fix the course of that stream as I had promised Speke to do.


_V.--Escape from Savage Enemies_

Both my wife and I were helpless with fever, and when we made our first
halt at a village I had to be carried ashore on a litter, and my wife
was so weak that she had to crawl on foot. At first the river was 500
yards wide, but on the second day it narrowed to 250 yards. As we pulled
up the stream, it narrowed to 180 yards, and, rounding a corner, a
magnificent sight burst suddenly upon us. On each side were beautifully
wooded cliffs rising abruptly to a height of about 300 feet, and rushing
through a gap which cleft the rock exactly before us, the river,
contracted from a grand stream, was pent up in a narrow gorge of
scarcely fifty yards in width. Roaring furiously through the rock-bound
pass, it plunged in one leap of about 120 feet perpendicular into a dark
abyss below. This was the greatest waterfall of the Nile; and in honour
of the distinguished president of the Royal Geographical Society, I
named it the Murchison Falls.

Of course, we could proceed no farther by canoe, and landed at a
deserted village. Our riding oxen had died; and we had to get some
natives as porters. My wife was carried on a litter, and I was scarcely
able to crawl; but after tremendous difficulties and dangers we reached,
following the bank of the Somerset, on April 8, the island of
Patoo[=a]n, within eighteen miles of where we had first struck the river
at Karuma. My exploration was, therefore, complete; but our difficulties
were not at an end. We were detained for two months at Shooa Mor[=u],
practically deserted by everyone except our two personal attendants, and
all but starved.

[The real Kamrasi, for the man Baker and his party had seen on their
outward journey was only his brother M'Gambi, afterwards came on the
scene, took them to Kisoona, and there and at other places detained them
practically prisoners during the long and cruel wars with his rivals,
Fawooka and Rionga and the King of Uganda. On November 17, Baker escaped
with his wife and a small party and marched through the Shooa country
and the country of the Madi to the Asua River, only a quarter of a mile
from its junction with the Nile. Then they crossed the country of the
Bari, and arrived at Gondokoro, whence they sailed down the Nile to
Khartoum, which was reached on May 5, 1865, two years and five months
after their start from that city.]




GEORGE BORROW

Wild Wales


_I.--Its People, Language and Scenery_

  Although the tour in Wales upon which this work was
  founded took place in 1854, and although the book was
  completed in 1857, it was not published until 1862. It
  received curt treatment from most of the critics, but the
  "Spectator" declared that Borrow (see FICTION) had written
  "the best book about Wales ever published." This verdict
  has been endorsed by admirers of Wales and of Borrow. Less
  imaginative than his earlier works, it is more natural and
  cheerful; it is a faithful record of studies of Welsh
  scenery and characteristics, and affords many a delightful
  glimpse of the quaint personality of its author.

In the summer of the year 1854, myself, wife and daughter determined
upon going into Wales to pass a few months there. It was my knowledge of
Welsh, such as it was, that made me desirous that we should go to Wales.
In my boyhood I had been something of a philologist, and had learnt some
Welsh, partly from books and partly from a Welsh groom. I was well
versed in the compositions of various of the old Welsh bards, especially
those of Dafydd ab Gwilym, whom I have always considered as the greatest
poetical genius that has appeared in Europe since the revival of
literature.

So our little family started for Wales on July 27, and next day we
arrived at Chester. Three days later I sent my wife and daughter by
train to Llangollen, and on the following morning I left Chester for
Llangollen on foot. After passing through Wrexham, I soon reached
Rhiwabon, whence my way lay nearly west. A woman passed me going towards
Rhiwabon. I pointed to a ridge to the east, and asked its name. The
woman shook her head and replied, "Dim Saesneg" (No English).

"This is as it should be," said I to myself; "I now feel I am in Wales."
I repeated the question in Welsh.

"Cefn bach," she replied--which signifies the little ridge.

"Diolch iti," I replied, and proceeded on my way.

On arriving at Llangollen I found my wife and daughter at the principal
inn. During dinner we had music, for a Welsh harper stationed in the
passage played upon his instrument "Codiad yr ehedydd." "Of a surety,"
said I, "I am in Wales!"

The beautiful valley of the Dee, or Dwy, of which the Llangollen
district forms part, is called in the British tongue Glyndyfrdwy. The
celebrated Welsh chieftain, generally known as Owen Glendower, was
surnamed after the valley, which belonged to him.

Connected with the Dee there is a wonderful Druidical legend to the
following effect. The Dee springs from two fountains, high up in
Merionethshire, called Dwy Fawr and Dwy Fach, or the great and little
Dwy, whose waters pass through those of the lake of Bala without
mingling with them, and come out at its northern extremity. These
fountains had their names from two individuals, Dwy Fawr and Dwy Fach,
who escaped from the Deluge, and the passing of the waters of the two
fountains through the lake, without being confounded with its flood, is
emblematic of the salvation of the two individuals from the Deluge, of
which the lake is a type.

I remained at Llangollen for nearly a month, first of all ascending to
Dinas Bran, a ruined stronghold of unknown antiquity, which crowns the
top of the mighty hill on the northern side of the valley; then walking
more than once over the Berwyn hills; then visiting the abbey of the
Vale of the Cross, where lies buried the poet Iolo Goch, the friend of
Owen Glendower; then making an expedition on foot to Ruthin.

Before leaving Llangollen I went over the Berwyn again to the valley of
Ceiriog, to see the birthplace of Huw Morris, the great Royalist poet,
whose pungent satires of King Charles's foes ran like wild fire through
Wales. Through a maze of tangled shrubs, in pouring rain, I was led to
his chair--a mouldering stone slab forming the seat, and a large slate
stone the back, with the poet's initials cut in it. I uncovered, and
said in the best Welsh I could command, "Shade of Huw Morris, a Saxon
has come to this place to pay that respect to true genius which he is
ever ready to pay." I then sat down in the chair, and commenced
repeating the verses of Huw Morris. The Welsh folk who were with me
listened patiently and approvingly in the rain, for enthusiasm is never
scoffed at by the noble, simple-minded, genuine Welsh, whatever
treatment it may receive from the coarse-hearted, sensual, selfish
Saxon.

On a brilliant Sunday morning in late August, I left Llangollen on foot
for Bangor, Snowdon and Anglesey. I walked through Corwen to Cerrig y
Drudion, within sight of Snowdon. At the inn, where I spent the night,
the landlady remarked that it was odd that the only two people not
Welshmen she had ever known who could speak Welsh should be in her house
at the same time. The other man, I found, was an Italian of Como, with
whom I conversed in his native tongue.

Next morning I started to walk to Bangor, a distance of thirty-four
miles. After passing across a stretch of flat country, I reached Pentre
Voelas, and soon found myself in a wild hilly region. Presently I
arrived at a cottage just inside the door of which sat a good-looking,
middle-aged woman, engaged in knitting, the general occupation of Welsh
females.

"Good-day," said I to her in Welsh. "Fine weather."

"In truth, sir, it is fine weather for the harvest."

"Are you alone in the house?"

"I am, sir; my husband has gone to his labour."

"Have you any children?"

"Two, sir, but they are out in service."

"What is the name of the river near here?"

"It is called the Conway. You have heard of it, sir?"

"Heard of it! It is one of the famous rivers of the world. One of the
great poets of my country calls it the old Conway."

"Is one river older than another, sir?"

"That's a shrewd question. Can you read?"

"I can, sir."

"Have you any books?"

"I have the Bible, sir."

"Will you show it me?"

"Willingly, sir."

On opening the book the first words which met my eye were "Gad i my
fyned trwy dy dir!" (Let me go through your country. Numbers xx.
22.)

"I may say these words," said I--"let me go through your country."

"No one will hinder you, sir, for you seem a civil gentleman."

"No one has hindered me hitherto. Wherever I have been in Wales I have
experienced nothing but kindness."

"What country is yours, sir?"

"England. Did you not know that by my tongue?"

"I did not, sir. I took you for a Cumro of the south."

I departed, and proceeded through a truly magnificent country to the
celebrated Vale of Conway. Then I turned westwards to Capel Curig, and
from there walked through a bleak moor amidst wild, sterile hills, and
down a gloomy valley with enormous rock walls on either hand, to
Bethesda and Bangor, where my family awaited me.


_II.--On Snowdon's Lofty Summit_

On the third morning after our arrival at Bangor, we set out for
Snowdon. Snowdon is interesting on various accounts. It is interesting
for its picturesque beauty; it is interesting from its connection with
Welsh history.

But it is from its connection with romance that Snowdon derives its
chief interest. Who, when he thinks of Snowdon, does not associate it
with the heroes of romance, Arthur and his knights?

We went through Carnarvon to Llanberis, and there I started with
Henrietta, my daughter, to ascend the hill, my wife not deeming herself
sufficiently strong to encounter the fatigue of the expedition. For some
way the ascent was anything but steep, but towards the summit the path
became much harder; at length, however, we stood safe and sound upon the
very top of Snowdon.

"Here," said I to Henrietta, "you are on the top crag of Snowdon, which
the Welsh consider, and perhaps with justice, to be the most remarkable
crag in the world; which is mentioned in many of their old wild romantic
tales, and some of the noblest of their poems, amongst others, in the
'Day of Judgment,' by the illustrious Goronwy Owen."

To this harangue Henrietta listened with attention; three or four
English, who stood nigh, with grinning scorn, and a Welsh gentleman with
much interest.

The Welshman, coming forward, shook me by the hand, exclaiming, "Wyt ti
Lydaueg?" (Are you from Brittany?)

"I am not a Llydauan," said I; "I wish I was, or anything but what I am,
one of a nation amongst whom any knowledge, save what relates to
money-making, is looked upon as a disgrace. I am ashamed to say that I
am an Englishman."

My family then returned to Llangollen, whilst I took a trip into
Anglesey to visit Llanfair, the birth-place of the great poet, Goronwy
Owen, whose works I had read with enthusiasm in my early years. I went
on to Holyhead, and ascended the headland. The prospect, on every side,
was noble, and in some respects this Pen Santaidd reminded me of
Finisterra, the Gallegan promontory which I had ascended some seventeen
years before.

Next morning I departed for Beddgelert by way of Carnarvon. After
passing by Lake Cwellyn, where I conversed with the Snowdon ranger, an
elderly man who is celebrated as the tip-top guide to Snowdon, I reached
Beddgelert, and found the company at the hotel there perhaps even more
disagreeable than that which I had left behind at Bangor. Beddgelert is
the scene of the legend of Llywelyn ab Jorwerth's dog Gelert, a legend
which, whether true or fictitious, is singularly beautiful and
affecting. On the way to Festiniog next day I entered a
refreshment-place, where I was given a temperance drink that was much
too strong for me. By mixing it with plenty of water, I made myself a
beverage tolerable enough; a poor substitute, however, to a genuine
Englishman for his proper drink, the liquor which, according to the
Edda, is called by men ale, and by the gods, beer. Between this place
and Tan-y-Bwlch I lost my way. I obtained a wonderful view of the Wyddfa
towering in sublime grandeur to the west, and of the beautiful but
spectral mountain Knicht in the north; to the south the prospect was
noble indeed--waters, forests, hoary mountains, and, in the far
distance, the sea. But I underwent sore hardships ere I found my way
again, and I was feeling much exhausted when I entered the Grapes Inn at
Tan-y-Bwlch.

In the parlour was a serious-looking gentleman, with whom, as I sipped
my brandy-and-water, I entered into a discourse that soon took a
religious turn. He told me that he believed in Divine pre-destination,
and that he did not hope to be saved; he was pre-destined to be lost. I
disputed the point with him for a considerable time, and left him
looking very miserable, perhaps at finding that he was not quite so
certain of eternal damnation as he had hitherto supposed.

An hour's walking brought me to Festiniog, the birthplace of Rhys Goch,
a celebrated bard, and a partisan of Owen Glendower. Next morning I
crossed a wild and cheerless moor that extended for miles and miles,
and entered a valley with an enormous hill on my right. Presently
meeting four men, I asked the foremost of them its name.

"Arenig Vawr," he replied, or something like it. I asked if anybody
lived upon it.

"No," he replied; "too cold for man."

"Fox?" said I.

"No! too cold for fox."

"Crow?" said I.

"No; too cold for crow; crow would be starved upon it." He then looked
me in the face, expecting probably that I should smile. I, however,
looked at him with all the gravity of a judge, whereupon he also
observed the gravity of a judge, and we continued looking at each other
with all the gravity of judges till we both simultaneously turned away.

Shortly afterwards I came to a beautiful valley; a more bewitching scene
I never beheld. I was now within three miles of Bala, where I spent the
night at an excellent inn. The name of the lake of Bala is Llyn Tegid,
which signifies Lake of Beauty; and certainly this name was not given
for nothing.

Next day, shortly after sunset, I reached my family at Llangollen, and
remained there for some weeks, making excursions to Chirk Castle and
elsewhere. On October 21 I left my family to make preparations for their
return to England, and myself departed for South Wales.


_III.--Wanderings in South Wales_

I walked first to Llan Rhyadr, visited Sycharth and Llan Silin, where
Huw Morris is buried, saw the cataract of the Rhyadr, and crossed the
hills to Bala. After remaining a day in this beautiful neighbourhood, I
crossed a stupendous pass to Dinas Mawddwy, in the midst of the region
once inhabited by the red-haired banditti of Mawddwy, the terror of the
greater part of North Wales. From there I passed down a romantic gorge,
through which flows the Royal Dyfi, to Mallwyd, where I spent the night.

Next morning I descended the valley of the Dyfi to Machynlleth, a
thoroughly Welsh town situated among pleasant green meadows. At
Machynlleth, in 1402, Owen Glendower held a parliament, and was formally
crowned King of Wales. To Machynlleth came Dafydd Gam, with the view of
assassinating Owen, who, however, had him seized and conducted in chains
to a prison in the mountains of Sycharth.

On November 2, I left Machynlleth by a steep hill to the south, whence
there is a fine view of the Dyfi valley, and set out for the Devil's
Bridge. The road was at first exceedingly good, and the scenery
beautiful. Afterwards I had to pass over very broken ground, and the
people of whom I asked my way were Saxon-haters and uncivil. Night was
coming on fast when I reached the inn of Pont Erwyd.

Next day I went on to the Devil's Bridge in the agreeable company of a
Durham mining captain, who had come to this country thirty-five years
before to help in opening Wales--that is, by mining in Wales in the
proper fashion, which means the North-country fashion. Arrived at the
Devil's Bridge, I viewed its magnificent scenery, and especially
observed the cave of the Wicked Children, the mysterious Plant de Bat,
sons of Bat or Bartholomew, who concealed themselves in this recess and
plundered the neighbourhood. Finally, they fell upon a great gentleman
on the roads by night, and not only robbed, but murdered him. "That job
was the ruin of Plant de Bat," an old postman told me, "for the great
gentleman's friends hunted after his murderers with dogs, and at length
came to the cave, and, going in, found it stocked with riches, and the
Plant de Bat sitting upon the riches, not only the boys, but their
sister, who was as bad as themselves. So they took out the riches and
the Plant de Bat, and the riches they did give to churches and
hospitals, and the Plant de Bat they did execute, hanging the boys, and
burning the girl."

After a visit to the Minister's Bridge, not far distant, a place very
wild and savage, but not comparable in sublimity with the Devil's
Bridge, I determined to ascend the celebrated mountain of Plynlimmon,
where arise the rivers Rheidol, Severn and Wye. I caused my guide to
lead me to the sources of each of the three rivers. That of the Rheidol
is a small, beautiful lake, overhung on two sides by frightful crags.
The source of the Severn is a little pool some twenty inches long,
covered at the bottom with small stones; the source of the Wye is a pool
not much larger. The fountain of the Rheidol stands apart from the
others, as if, proud of its own beauty, it disdained their homeliness. I
drank deeply at all three sources.

Next day I went by Hafod and Spitty Ystwith over a bleak moorland
country to the valley of the Teivi, and turned reverently aside to the
celebrated monastery of Strata Florida, where is buried Dafydd ab
Gwilym, the greatest genius of the Cymbric race. In this neighbourhood I
heard a great deal of the exploits of Twm Shone Catti, the famous Welsh
robber, who became a country gentleman and a justice of the peace.

From Tregaron, eight miles beyond Strata Florida, I went on to Llan
Ddewi Brefi and Lampeter, and crossed over to Llandovery in the fair
valley of the Towy. From there I went over the Black Mountains, in mist
and growing darkness, to Gutter Vawr, and thence to Swansea. Through a
country blackened with industry, I walked to Neath; thence in rainy
weather to Merthyr Tydvil, where I went to see the Cyfartha Fawr
Ironworks. Here I saw enormous furnaces and heard all kinds of dreadful
sounds.

From Merthyr Tydvil I journeyed to Caerfili by Pen-y-Glas; then to
Newport; then by Caer Went, once an important Roman station and now a
poor, desolate place, to Chepstow. I went to the Wye and drank of the
waters at its mouth, even as some time before I had drunk of the waters
at its source. Returning to the inn, I got my dinner, and placing my
feet against the sides of the grate I drank wine and sang Welsh songs
till ten o'clock. Then, shouldering my satchel, I proceeded to the
railroad station and took a first-class ticket to London.




The Bible in Spain


_I.--The First Journey_

  In 1835 George Henry Borrow, fresh from a journey in
  Russia as the Bible Society's agent, set out for Spain to
  sell and distribute Bibles on the Society's behalf. This
  mission, in the most fervidly Roman Catholic of all
  European countries, was one that required rare courage and
  resourcefulness; and Borrow's task was complicated by the
  fact that Spain was in a disturbed state owing to the
  Carlist insurrection. Borrow's journeys in Spain, which
  were preceded by a tour in Portugal, and followed by a
  visit to Morocco, lasted in all about four years. In
  December, 1842, he published "The Bible in Spain"--a work
  less remarkable as a record of missionary effort than as a
  vivid narrative of picturesque travel episodes, and a
  testimony to its author's keen delight in an adventurous
  life of wanderings in the open air.

I landed at Lisbon on November 12, 1835; and on January 5, 1836, I
spurred down the hill of Elvas, on the Portuguese frontier, eager to
arrive in old chivalrous romantic Spain. In little more than half an
hour we arrived at a brook, whose waters ran vigorously between steep
banks. A man who was standing on the side directed me to the ford in the
squeaking dialect of Portugal; but whilst I was yet splashing through
the water, a voice from the other bank hailed me, in the magnificent
language of Spain, in this guise: "Charity, Sir Cavalier, for the love
of God bestow an alms upon me, that I may purchase a mouthful of red
wine!" In a moment I was on Spanish ground, and, having flung the beggar
a small piece of silver, I cried in ecstasy: "Santiago y cierra España!"
and scoured on my way with more speed than before.

I was now within half a league of Badajoz, where I spent the next three
weeks. It was here that I first fell in with those singular people, the
Zincali, Gitanos, or Spanish gypsies. My time was chiefly devoted to the
gypsies, among whom, from long intercourse with various sections of
their race in different parts of the world, I felt myself much more at
home than with the silent, reserved men of Spain, with whom a foreigner
might mingle for half a century without having half a dozen words
addressed to him. So when the fierce gypsy, Antonio Lopez, offered to
accompany me as guide on my journey towards Madrid, I accepted his
offer. After a few days of travelling in his company I was nearly
arrested on suspicion by a national guard, but was saved by my passport.
In fact, my appearance was by no means calculated to prepossess people
in my favour. Upon my head I wore an old Andalusian hat; a rusty cloak,
which had perhaps served half a dozen generations, enwrapped my body. My
face was plentifully bespattered with mud, and upon my chin was a beard
of a week's growth.

I took leave of Antonio at the summit of the Pass of Mirabete, and
descended alone, occasionally admiring one of the finest prospects in
the world; before me outstretched lay immense plains, bounded in the
distance by huge mountains, whilst at the foot of the hill rolled the
Tagus in a deep narrow stream, between lofty banks.

Early in February I reached Madrid. I hoped to obtain permission from
the government to print the new Testament in the Castilian language, for
circulation in Spain, and lost no time in seeing Mendizabal, the Prime
Minister. He was a bitter enemy to the Bible Society; but I pressed
upon him so successfully that eventually I obtained a promise that at
the expiration of a few months, when he hoped the country would be in a
more tranquil state, I should be allowed to print the Scriptures. He
told me to call upon him again at the end of three months. Before that
time had elapsed, however, he had fallen into disgrace, and his Ministry
had been succeeded by another. At the outset, in spite of assistance
from the British Minister, I could only get evasions from the new
government.

I had nothing to do but wait, and I used to loiter for hours along the
delightful banks of the canal that runs parallel with the River
Manzanares, listening to the prattle of the narangero, or man who sold
oranges and water. He was a fellow of infinite drollery; his knowledge
of individuals was curious and extensive, few people passing his stall
with whose names, character, and history he was not acquainted.

"Those two boys are the children of Gabiria, comptroller of the Queen's
household, and the richest man in Madrid. They are nice boys, and buy
much fruit. The old woman who is lying beneath yon tree is the Tia
Lucilla; she has committed murders, and as she owes me money, I hope one
day to see her executed. This man was of the Walloon guard--Señor Don
Benito Mol, how do you do?"

This last-named personage instantly engrossed my attention; he was a
bulky old man, with ruddy features, and eyes that had an expression of
great eagerness, as if he were expecting the communication of some
important tidings. He returned the salutation of the orange-man, and,
bowing to me, forthwith produced two scented wash-balls, which he
offered for sale in a rough dissonant jargon.

Upon my asking him who he was, the following conversation ensued between
us.

"I am a Swiss of Lucerne, Benedict Mol by name, once a soldier in the
Walloon guard, and now a soap-boiler, at your service."

"You speak the language of Spain very imperfectly," said I. "How long
have you been in the country?"

"Forty-five years," replied Benedict. "But when the guard was broken up
I went to Minorca, where I lost the Spanish language without acquiring
the Catalan. I will now speak Swiss to you, for, if I am not much
mistaken, you are a German man, and understand the speech of Lucerne. I
intend shortly to return to Lucerne, and live there like a duke."

"Have you, then, realised a large capital in Spain?" said I, glancing at
his hat and the rest of his apparel.

"Not a cuart, not a cuart; these two wash-balls are all that I possess."

"Perhaps you are the son of good parents, and have lands and money in
your own country wherewith to support yourself?"

"Not a heller, not a heller; my father was hangman of Lucerne, and when
he died his body was seized to pay his debts." When he went back to
Lucerne, added Benedict, it would be in a coach drawn by six mules, with
treasure, a mighty schatz, which lay in a certain church at Compostella,
in Galicia. He had learnt the secret of it from a dying soldier of the
Walloon guard, who, with two companions, had buried in the church a
great booty they had made in Portugal. It consisted of gold moidores and
of a packet of huge diamonds from the Brazils. The whole was contained
in a large copper kettle. "It is very easy to find, for the dying man
was so exact in his description of the place where it lies that were I
once at Compostella, I should have no difficulty in putting my hand upon
it. Several times I have been on the point of setting out on the
journey, but something has always happened to stop me."

At various times during the next two years I again met Benedict Mol.

When next I called upon the new Prime Minister, Isturitz, I found him
well disposed to favour my views, and I obtained an understanding that
my Biblical pursuits would be tolerated in Spain. The Minister was in a
state of extreme depression, which was indeed well grounded; for within
a week there occurred a revolution in which his party, the Moderados,
were overthrown by the Nacionals. I watched the fighting from an upper
window, in the company of my friend D----, of the "Morning Chronicle."
Afterwards I returned to England, for the purpose of consulting with my
friends, and planning a Biblical campaign.


_II.--Travels in Northern Spain_

In November I sailed from the Thames to Cadiz, and reached Madrid by
Seville and Cordova. I found that I could commence printing the
Scriptures without any further applications to the government. Within
three months of my arrival an edition of the New Testament, consisting
of 5,000 copies, was published at Madrid. I then prepared to ride forth,
Testament in hand, and endeavour to circulate the Word of God amongst
the Spaniards.

First, I purchased a horse. He was a black Andalusian stallion of great
power and strength, but he was unbroke, savage, and furious. A cargo of
Bibles, however, which I hoped occasionally to put on his back, would, I
had no doubt, thoroughly tame him. I then engaged a servant, a wandering
Greek, named Antonio Buchini; his behaviour was frequently in the
highest degree extraordinary, but he served me courageously and
faithfully. The state of the surrounding country was not very favourable
for setting forth; Cabrera, the Carlist, was within nine leagues of
Madrid, with an army nearly 10,000 strong; nevertheless, about the
middle of May I bade farewell to my friends, and set out for Salamanca.

A melancholy town is Salamanca; the days of its collegiate glory are
long since past, never more to return; a circumstance, however, which is
little to be regretted, for what benefit did the world ever derive from
scholastic philosophy? The principal bookseller of the town consented to
become my agent here, and I, in consequence, deposited in his shop a
certain number of New Testaments. I repeated this experiment in all the
large towns which I visited and distributed them likewise as I rode
along.

The posada where I put up at Salamanca was a good specimen of the old
Spanish inn. Opposite to my room lodged a wounded officer; he was
attended by three broken soldiers, lame or maimed, and unfit for
service; they were quite destitute of money, and the officer himself was
poor and had only a few dollars. Brave guests for an inn, thought I;
yet, to the honour of Spain be it spoken, it is one of the few countries
in Europe where poverty is never insulted nor looked upon with contempt.
Even at an inn the poor man is never spurned from the door, and if not
harboured, is at least dismissed with fair words, and consigned to the
mercy of God and his mother. This is as it should be. I laugh at the
bigotry and prejudices of Spain; I abhor the cruelty and ferocity which
have cast a stain of eternal infamy on her history; but I will say for
the Spaniards that in their social intercourse no people in the world
exhibit a juster feeling of what is due to the dignity of human nature,
or better understand the behaviour which it behoves a man to adopt
towards his fellow beings.

We travelled on by Valladolid, Leon and Astorga, and entered the
terrific mountains of Galicia. After a most difficult journey, along
precipitous tracks that were reported to be infested by brigands, we
reached Coruña, where stands the tomb of Mocre, built by the chivalrous
French in commemoration of the fall of their heroic antagonist. Many
acquire immortality without seeking it, and die before its first ray has
gilded their name; of these was Moore. There is scarcely a Spaniard but
has heard of his tomb, and speaks of it with a strange kind of awe.

At the commencement of August I found myself at St. James of
Compostella. A beautiful town is St. James, standing on a pleasant level
amidst mountains. Time has been when, with the single exception of Rome,
it was the most celebrated resort of pilgrims in the world. Its glory,
however, as a place of pilgrimage is rapidly passing away.

I was walking late one night alone in the Alameda, when a man dressed in
coarse brown garments took off his hat and demanded charity in uncouth
tones. "Benedict Mol," said I, "is it possible that I see you at
Compostella?"

It was indeed Benedict. He had walked all the way from Madrid,
supporting himself by begging.

"What motive could possibly bring you such a distance?" I asked him.

"I come for the schatz--the treasure. Ow, I do not like this country of
Galicia at all; all my bones are sore since I entered Galicia."

"And yet you have come to this country in search of treasure?"

"Ow yaw, but the schatz is buried; it is not above ground; there is no
money above ground in Galicia. I must dig it up; and when I have dug it
up I will purchase a coach with six mules, and ride out of Galicia to
Lucerne."

I gave him a dollar, and told him that as for the treasure he had come
to seek, probably it only existed in his own imagination.

_III.--The Alcalde of Finisterra_

After a visit to Pontevedra and Vigo, I returned to Padron, three
leagues from Compostella, and decided to hire a guide to Cape
Finisterra. It would be difficult to assign any plausible reason for the
ardent desire which I entertained to visit this place; but I thought
that to convey the Gospel to a place so wild and remote might perhaps be
considered an acceptable pilgrimage in the eyes of my Maker.

The first guide I employed deserted me; the second did not appear to
know the way, and sought to escape from me; and when I tried to pursue
him, my horse bolted and nearly broke my neck. I caught the guide at
last. After a very rough journey we reached the village of Finisterra,
and wound our way up the flinty sides of the huge bluff head which is
called the Cape. Certainly in the whole world there is no bolder coast
than the Gallegan shore. There is an air of stern and savage grandeur in
everything around, which strangely captivates the imagination. After
gazing from the summit of the Cape for nearly an hour we descended to
the village. On reaching the house where we had taken up our habitation,
I flung myself on a rude and dirty bed, and was soon asleep.

I was suddenly, however, seized roughly by the shoulder and nearly
dragged from the bed. I looked up in amazement, and I beheld hanging
over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, built
as strong as a giant, in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was
a rusty musket.

MYSELF: Who are you and what do you want? By what authority do you thus
presume to interfere with me?

FIGURE: By the authority of the Justicia of Finisterra. Follow me
peaceably, Calros, or it will be the worse with you.

"Calros," said I, "what does the person mean?" I thought it, however,
most prudent to obey his command, and followed him down the staircase.
The shop and the portal were now thronged with the inhabitants of
Finisterra, men, women, and children. Through this crowd the figure
pushed his way with an air of authority. "It is Calros! It is Calros!"
said a hundred voices; "he has come to Finisterra at last, and the
justicia have now got hold of him."

At last we reached a house of rather larger size than the rest; my guide
having led me into a long, low room, placed me in the middle of the
floor, and then hurrying to the door, he endeavoured to repulse the
crowd who strove to enter with us. I now looked around the room. It was
rather scantily furnished; I could see nothing but some tubs and
barrels, the mast of a boat, and a sail or two. Seated upon the tubs
were three or four men coarsely dressed, like fishermen or shipwrights.
The principal personage was a surly, ill-tempered-looking fellow of
about thirty-five, whom I discovered to be the alcalde of Finisterra.
After I had looked about me for a minute, the alcalde, giving his
whiskers a twist, thus addressed me:

"Who are you, where is your passport, and what brings you to
Finisterra?"

MYSELF: I am an Englishman. Here is my passport, and I came to see
Finisterra.

This reply seemed to discomfit them for a moment. They looked at each
other, then at my passport. At length the alcalde, striking it with his
finger, bellowed forth, "This is no Spanish passport; it appears to be
written in French."

MYSELF: I have already told you that I am a foreigner. I, of course,
carry a foreign passport.

ALCALDE: Then you mean to assert that you are not Calros Rey?

MYSELF: I never heard before of such a king, nor indeed of such a name.

ALCALDE: Hark to the fellow; he has the audacity to say that he has
never heard of Calros the pretender, who calls himself king.

MYSELF: If you mean by Calros the pretender Don Carlos, all I can reply
is that you can scarcely be serious. You might as well assert that
yonder poor fellow, my guide, whom I see you have made prisoner, is his
nephew, the infante Don Sebastian.

ALCALDE: See, you have betrayed yourself; that is the very person we
suppose him to be.

MYSELF: It is true that they are both hunchbacks. But how can I be like
Don Carlos? I have nothing the appearance of a Spaniard, and am nearly a
foot taller than the pretender.

ALCALDE: That makes no difference; you, of course, carry many waistcoats
about you, by means of which you disguise yourself, and appear tall or
low according to your pleasure.

This last was so conclusive an argument that I had of course nothing to
reply to it. "Yes, it is Calros; it is Calros," said the crowd at the
door.

"It will be as well to have these men shot instantly," continued the
alcalde; "if they are not the two pretenders, they are at any rate two
of the factious."

"I am by no means certain that they are either one or the other," said a
gruff voice. Our glances rested upon the figure who held watch at the
door. He had planted the barrel of his musket on the floor, and was
leaning his chin against the butt.

"I have been examining this man," he continued, pointing to myself, "and
listening whilst he spoke, and it appears to me that after all he may
prove an Englishman; he has their very look and voice."

Here the alcalde became violently incensed. "He is no more an Englishman
than yourself," he exclaimed; "if he were an Englishman, would he have
come in this manner, skulking across the land? Not so I trow. He would
have come in a ship."

After a fierce dispute between the alcalde and the guard, it was decided
to remove us to Corcuvion, where the head alcalde was to dispose of us
as he thought proper.

The head alcalde was a mighty liberal and a worshipper of Jeremy
Bentham. "The most universal genius which the world ever produced," he
called him. "I am most truly glad to see a countryman of his in these
Gothic wildernesses. Stay, I think I see a book in your hand."

MYSELF: The New Testament.

ALCALDE: Why do you carry such a book with you?

MYSELF: One of my principal motives in visiting Finisterra was to carry
this book to that wild place.

ALCALDE: Ah, ah! how very singular. Yes, I remember. I have heard that
the English highly prize this eccentric book. How very singular that the
countrymen of the grand Bentham should set any value upon that old
monkish book.

I told him that I had read none of Bentham's writings; but nevertheless
I had to thank that philosopher not only for my release, but for
hospitable treatment during the rest of my stay in the region of
Finisterra.

From Corcuvion I returned to Compostella and Coruña, and then directed
my course to Asturias. At Oviedo, I again met Benedict Mol. He had
sought to get permission to disinter the treasure, and had not
succeeded. He had then tried to reach France, begging by the way. He was
in villainous apparel, and nearly barefooted. He promised to quit Spain
and return to Lucerne, and I gave him a few dollars.

"A strange man is this Benedict," said my servant Antonio. "A strange
life he has led and a strange death he will die--it is written on his
countenance. That he will leave Spain I do not believe, or, if he leave
it, it will only be to return, for he is bewitched about this same
treasure."

Soon afterwards I returned to Madrid. During my northern journey, which
occupied a considerable portion of the year 1837, I had accomplished
less than I proposed to myself. Something, however, had been effected.
The New Testament was now enjoying a quiet sale in the principal towns
of the north.

I had, moreover, disposed of a considerable number of Testaments with my
own hands.


_IV.--The Persecution_

I spent some months in Madrid translating the New Testament into the
Basque and Gypsy languages. During this time the hostility of the
priesthood to my labours became very bitter. The Governor of Madrid
forbade the sale of Testaments in January, 1838; afterwards all copies
of the Gypsy Gospel were confiscated, and in May I was thrown into
prison. I went cheerfully enough, knowing that the British Embassy was
actively working for my release; and the governor of the prison, one of
the greatest rascals in all Spain, greeted me with a most courteous
speech in pure sonorous Castilian, bidding me consider myself as a guest
rather than a prisoner, and permitting me to roam over every part of the
gaol.

What most surprised me with respect to the prisoners was their good
behaviour. I call it good when all things are taken into consideration.
They had their occasional bursts of wild gaiety, their occasional
quarrels, which they were in the habit of settling in a corner with
their long knives; but, upon the whole, their conduct was infinitely
superior to what might have been expected. Yet this was not the result
of coercion, or any particular care which was exercised over them; for
perhaps in no part of the world are prisoners so left to themselves and
so utterly neglected as in Spain. Yet in this prison of Madrid the ears
of the visitor are never shocked with horrid blasphemy and profanity,
nor are his eyes outraged and himself insulted. And yet in this prison
were some of the most desperate characters in Spain. But gravity and
sedateness are the leading characteristics of the Spaniards, and the
very robber, except in those moments when he is engaged in his
occupation, and then no one is more sanguinary, pitiless, and wolfishly
eager for booty, is a being who can be courteous and affable, and who
takes pleasure in conducting himself with sobriety and decorum.

After a stay of three weeks in the prison I was released, as I expected,
with an apology, and I prepared for another journey. While in prison I
had been visited by Benedict Mol, again in Madrid. Soon after my release
he came in high spirits to bid me farewell before starting for
Compostella to dig up the schatz. He was dressed in new clothes; instead
of the ragged staff he had usually borne, he carried a huge bamboo
rattan. He had endured terrible privations, he said, in the mountains.
But one night he had heard among the rocks a mysterious voice telling
him that the way to the treasure lay through Madrid. To Madrid he had
come, and the government, hoping for a replenishment of its empty
treasury, had given him permission to search for the treasure.

"Well, Benedict," I told him, "I have nothing to say save that I hope
you will succeed in your digging."

"Thank you, lieber Herr, thank you!" Here he stopped short and started.
"Heiliger Gott! Suppose I should not find the treasure, after all?"

"Very rationally said. It is not too late. Put on your old garments,
grasp your ragged staff, and help me to circulate the Gospel."

He mused for a moment, then shook his head. "No, no," he cried; "I must
accomplish my destiny! I shall find it--the schatz--it is still
there--it _must_ be there!"

He went, and I never saw him more. What I heard, however, was
extraordinary enough. The treasure hunt at Compostella was conducted in
a public and imposing manner. The bells pealed, the populace thronged
from their houses, troops were drawn up in the square. A procession
directed its course to the church; at its head was the captain-general
and the Swiss; numerous masons brought up the rear. The procession
enters the church, they pass through it in solemn march, they find
themselves in a vaulted passage. The Swiss looks around. "Dig here!"
said he. The masons labour, the floor is broken up--a horrible fetid
odour arises....

Enough; no treasure was found, and the unfortunate Swiss was forthwith
seized and flung into the horrid prison of Saint James, amidst the
execrations of thousands. Soon afterwards he was removed from Saint
James, whither I could not ascertain. It was said that he disappeared on
the road.

Where in the whole cycle of romance shall we find anything more wild,
grotesque and sad than the easily authenticated history of the
treasure-digger of Saint James.

A most successful journey, in which I distributed the Gospel freely in
the Sagra of Toledo and La Mancha, was interrupted by a serious illness,
which compelled me to return to Madrid, and afterwards to visit England
for a rest. On December 31, 1838, I entered Spain for the third time.
From Cadiz I travelled to Madrid by Seville, and made a number of short
journeys to the villages near the capital. The clergy, however, had
induced the government to order the confiscation of all Testaments
exposed for sale. Prevented from labouring in the villages, I organised
a distribution of Testaments in Madrid itself. I then returned to
Seville; but even here I was troubled by the government's orders for
the seizure of Testaments. I had, however, several hundred copies in my
own possession, and I remained in Seville for several months until I had
disposed of them. I lived there in extreme retirement; there was nothing
to induce me to enter much into society. The Andalusians, in all
estimable traits of character, are as far below the other Spaniards as
the country which they inhabit is superior in beauty and fertility to
the other provinces of Spain.

At the end of July, 1839, I went by steamer down the Guadalquivir to
Cadiz, then to Gibraltar, and thence across to Tangier and the land of
the Moors. I had a few Spanish Testaments still in my possession, and my
object was to circulate them among the Christians of Tangier.

NOTE.--At this point the narrative abruptly ends. Borrow returned from
Morocco to England in the spring of 1840.




JAMES BOSWELL

Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides


_I.--Edinburgh, Fifeshire, and Aberdeen_

  Boswell's first considerable book was a lively description
  of his tour in Corsica, but his fame rests on his "Life of
  Dr. Johnson" (see LIVES AND LETTERS), and his "Journal of
  a Tour to the Hebrides with Samuel Johnson, LL.D." was
  really the first portion of that great work, and was
  meant, as he himself said, "to delineate Dr. Johnson's
  manners and character" more than to give any detailed
  descriptions of scenery. We have chosen to include it in
  the travel section of our work, however, as it might be
  more readily looked for there than under "Johnson" in the
  department of "Lives and Letters." The journal was
  published in the autumn of 1785, about nine months after
  the death of Johnson.

Dr. Johnson had for many years given me hopes that we should go together
and visit the Hebrides. In spring, 1773, he talked of coming to Scotland
that year with so much firmness that I hoped he was at last in earnest.
I knew that if he were once launched from the metropolis he would go
forward very well. Luckily, Mr. Justice (now Sir Robert) Chambers
conducted Dr. Johnson from London to Newcastle; and Mr. Scott, of
University College, Oxford, accompanied him from thence to Edinburgh.

On Saturday, August 14, 1773, late in the evening, I received a note
from him, that he had arrived in Boyd's Inn, at the head of the
Canongate. I went to him directly. He embraced me cordially, and I
exulted in the thought that I had him actually in Caledonia. He was to
do me the honour to lodge under my roof. We walked arm-in-arm up the
High Street to my house in James's Court. It was a dusky night; but he
acknowledged that the breadth of the street, and the loftiness of the
buildings on each side, made a noble appearance. My wife had tea ready,
which it is well known he delighted to drink at all hours; and he showed
much complacency upon finding that the mistress of the house was so
attentive to his singular habit. On Sunday, after dinner, Principal
Robertson came and drank wine with us, and there was some animated
dialogue. During the next two days we walked out that Dr. Johnson might
see some of the things which we have to show at Edinburgh, such as
Parliament House, where the lords of session now hold their courts, the
Advocates' Library, St. Giles's great church, the Royal Infirmary, the
Abbey of Holyrood House, and the Palace, where our beautiful Queen Mary
lived, and in which David Rizzio was murdered.

We set out from Edinburgh on Wednesday, August 18, crossed the Frith of
Forth by boat, touching at the island of Inch Keith, and landed in Fife
at Kinghorn, where we took a post-chaise, and had a dreary drive to St.
Andrews. We arrived late, and were received at St. Leonard's College by
Professor Watson. We were conducted to see St. Andrew, our oldest
university, and the seat of our primate in the days of episcopacy. Dr.
Johnson's veneration for the hierarchy affected him with a strong
indignation while he beheld the ruins of religious magnificence. I
happened to ask where John Knox was buried. Dr. Johnson burst out: "I
hope in the highway! I have been looking at his reformations."

We left St. Andrews August 20, and drove through Leuchars, Dundee, and
Aberbrothick to Montrose. Travelling onwards, we had the Grampian Hills
in view, and some good land around us, but void of trees and hedges; and
the Doctor observed that it was wonderful to see a land so denuded of
timber. Beyond Lawrence Kirk we visited and dined with Lord Monboddo,
and after a tedious journey we came to Aberdeen. Next morning Principal
Campbell and other college professors called for us, and we went with
them and saw Marischal College.

Afterwards we waited on the magistrates in the Town Hall. They had
invited us to present Dr. Johnson with the freedom of the town, which
Provost Jopp did with a very good grace. Dr. Johnson was much pleased
with this mark of attention, and received it very politely. It was
striking to hear the numerous company drinking "Dr. Johnson! Dr.
Johnson!" and then to see him with his burgess ticket, or diploma, in
his hat, which he wore as he walked along the streets, according to the
usual custom. We dined with the provost and a large company of
professors at the house of Sir Alexander Gordon, Professor of Medicine,
but there was little or no conversation.


_II.--Through the Macbeth Country_

We resumed our journey northwards on the morning of August 24. Having
received a polite invitation to Slains Castle, we proceeded thither, and
were graciously welcomed. Lady Errol pressed us to stay all night, and
ordered the coach to carry us to see the great curiosity on the coast at
Dunbui, which is a monstrous cauldron, called by the country people the
Pot. Dr. Johnson insisted on taking a boat and sailing into the Pot, and
we found caves of considerable depth on each side.

Returning to the castle, Dr. Johnson observed that its situation was the
noblest he had ever seen, better than Mount Edgcumbe, reckoned the first
in England. About nine, the earl, who had been absent, came home. His
agreeable manners and softness of address prevented that constraint
which the idea of his being Lord High Constable of Scotland might
otherwise have occasioned. He talked very easily and sensibly with his
learned guest. We left Slains Castle next morning, and, driving by Banff
and Elgin, where the noble ruins of the cathedral were examined by Dr.
Johnson with a patient attention, reached Forres on the night of August
26. That afternoon we drove over the very heath where Macbeth met the
witches, according to tradition. Dr. Johnson solemnly recited:

  How far is't called to Forres? What are these,
  So withered, and so wild is their attire?
  They look not like the inhabitants o' the earth,
        And yet are on't.

From Forres we came to Nairn, and thence to the manse of the minister of
Calder, Mr. Kenneth Macaulay, author of the "History of St. Kilda,"
where we stayed the night, after visiting the old castle, the seat of
the Thane of Cawdor. Thence we drove to Fort George, where we dined with
the governor, Sir Eyre Coote (afterwards the gallant conqueror of Hyder
Ali, and preserver of our Indian Empire), and then got safely to
Inverness. Next day we went to Macbeth's Castle. I had a romantic
satisfaction in seeing Dr. Johnson actually in it. It perfectly
corresponds with Shakespeare's description, which Sir Joshua Reynolds
has so happily illustrated in one of his notes on our immortal poet:

  This castle has a pleasant seat: the air
  Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself
        Unto our gentle senses.

Just as we came out of it a raven perched upon one of the chimney-tops
and croaked. Then I repeated:

        The raven himself is hoarse,
  That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
  Under my battlements.

On Monday, August 30, we began our equitation. We had three horses for
Dr. Johnson, myself, and Joseph, my servant, and one which carried our
portmanteaus, and two Highlanders walked along with us. Dr. Johnson rode
very well. It was a delightful day. Loch Ness and the road upon the side
of it, shaded with birch-trees, pleased us much. The night was spent at
Fort Augustus, and the next two days we travelled through a wild
country, with prodigious mountains on each side.


_III.--In the Misty Hebrides_

We came at last to Glenelg, and next morning we got into a boat for Sky,
and reached the shore of Armidale. Sir Alexander Macdonald, chief of the
Macdonalds in the Isle of Sky, came down to receive us. Armidale is
situated on a pretty bay of the narrow sea which flows between the
mainland of Scotland and the Isle of Sky. In front there is a grand
prospect of the rude mountains Moidart and Knoidart. Dr. Johnson and I
were now full of the old Highland spirit, and were dissatisfied at
hearing of racked rents and emigration, and finding a chief not
surrounded by his clan. We attempted in vain to communicate to him a
portion of our enthusiasm.

On September 6 we set out, accompanied by Mr. Donald Macleod as our
guide, for Corrichatachin, in the district of Strath. This farm is
possessed by Mr. Mackinnon, who received us with a hearty welcome. The
company was numerous and cheerful, and we, for the first time, had a
specimen of the joyous social manners of the inhabitants of the
Highlands. They talked in their own language with fluent vivacity, and
sang many Erse songs.

The following day the Rev. Donald Macqueen arrived to take us to the
Island of Rasay, in Macgillichallum's carriage. Along with him came, as
our pilot, Mr. Malcolm Macleod, one of the Rasay family, celebrated in
the year 1745-46. We got into Rasay's carriage, which was a strong open
boat. Dr. Johnson sat high on the stern like a magnificent triton.

The approach to Rasay was very pleasing. We saw before us a beautiful
bay, well defended by a rocky coast, a good family mansion, a fine
verdure about it, with a considerable number of trees, and beyond it
hills and mountains in gradation of wildness. A large company came out
from the house to meet us as we landed, headed by Rasay himself, whose
family has possessed this island above four hundred years.

From Rasay we sailed to Portree, in Sky, and then rode in wretched
weather to Kingsburgh. There we were received by Mr. Allan Macdonald and
his wife, the celebrated Miss Flora Macdonald. She is a little woman of
a genteel appearance, and uncommonly mild and well-bred. Dr. Johnson was
rather quiescent, and went early to bed. I slept in the same room with
him. Each had a neat bed with tartan curtains. Dr. Johnson's bed was the
very bed in which the grandson of the unfortunate King James II. lay on
one of the nights after the failure of his rash attempt in 1745-46.

To see Dr. Samuel Johnson lying in that bed in the Isle of Sky, in the
house of Miss Flora Macdonald, struck me with such a group of ideas as
is not easy for words to describe as they passed through the mind. He
smiled, and said: "I have no ambitious thoughts in it." Upon the table I
found in the morning a slip of paper on which Dr. Johnson had written
with his pencil these words: "_Quantum cedat virtutibus aurum_" (With
virtue weighed, what worthless trash is gold). What the Doctor meant by
writing them I could not tell. At breakfast he said he would have given
a good deal rather than not have laid in that bed.

Kingsburgh sent us on our way by boat and on horseback to Dunvegan
Castle. The great size of the castle, which is built upon a rock close
to the sea, while the land around presents nothing but wild, moorish,
hilly, and scraggy appearances, gave a rude magnificence to the scene.
We were a jovial company, and the laird, surrounded by so many of his
clan, was to me a pleasing sight. They listened with wonder and pleasure
while Dr. Johnson harangued. The weather having cleared, we set out for
Ulinish, the house of Mr. Macleod, the sheriff-substitute of the island.
From an old tower near the house is an extensive view of Loch Bracadale,
and, at a distance, of the Isles of Barra and South Uist; and on the
land side the Cuillin, a prodigious range of mountains, capped with
rocky pinnacles, in a strange variety of shapes.

From there we came to Talisker, which is a beautiful place with many
well-grown trees, a wide expanse of sea and mountains, and, within a
quarter of a mile from the house, no less than fifteen waterfalls. Mr.
Donald Maclean, the young laird of Col, was now our guide, and conducted
us to Ostig, the residence of Mr. Martin Macpherson, minister of Slate.
There were great storms of wind and rain which confined us to the house,
but we were fully compensated by Dr. Johnson's conversation.

We then returned to Armidale House, from whence we set sail for Mull on
October 3; but encountered during the night a dreadful gale, which
compelled the skipper to run his vessel to the Isle of Col for shelter.
We were detained in Col by storms till October 14, when we safely
crossed to Tobermorie, in the Island of Mull.

Ponies were provided for us, and we rode right across the island, and
then were ferried to the Island of Ulva, where we were received by the
laird, a very ancient chief, whose family has possessed Ulva for nine
hundred years. Next morning we took boat for Inchkenneth, where we were
introduced by Col to Sir Allan Maclean, the chief of his clan, and his
daughters.

On Tuesday, October 19, we took leave of the young ladies, and of our
excellent companion, Col. Sir Allan obligingly undertook to accompany us
to Icolmkill, and we proceeded thither in a boat with four stout rowers,
passing the great cave Gribon on the coast of Mull, the island of
Staffa, on which we could not land on account of the high surge, and
Nuns' Island. After a tedious sail, it gave us no small pleasure to
perceive a light in the village of Icolmkill; and as we approached the
shore, the tower of the cathedral, just discernible in the moonlight,
was a picturesque object. When we had landed upon the sacred place, Dr.
Johnson and I cordially embraced.

I must own that Icolmkill did not answer my expectations, but Dr.
Johnson said it came up to his. We were both disappointed when we were
shown what are called the monuments of the kings of Scotland, Ireland,
and Denmark, and of a king of France. They are only some gravestones
flat on the earth, and we could see no inscription. We set sail at
midday for Mull, where we bade adieu to our very kind conductor, Sir
Allan Maclean, and crossed in the ferry-boat to Oban, from whence next
day we rode to Inverary.

The Rev. John Macaulay, one of the ministers of Inverary, accompanied us
to Inverary Castle, where I presented Dr. Johnson to the Duke of Argyll.
Dr. Johnson was much struck by the grandeur and elegance of this
princely seat. At dinner, the duchess was very attentive to Dr. Johnson,
who talked a great deal, and was so entertaining that she placed her
chair close to his, leaned upon the back of it, and listened eagerly.
Dr. Johnson was all attention to her grace. From Inverary we passed to
Rosedow, the beautiful seat of Sir James Colquhoun, on the banks of the
Loch Lomond, and after passing a pleasant day boating round the loch and
visiting some of the islands, we proceeded to Cameron, the seat of
Commissary Smollett, from which we drove in a post-chaise to Glasgow,
inspecting by the way Dunbarton Castle.


_IV.--In the West of Scotland_

During the day we spent in Glasgow, we were received in the college by a
number of the professors, who showed all due respect to Dr. Johnson; and
Dr. Leechman, Principal of the University, had the satisfaction of
telling Dr. Johnson that his name had been gratefully celebrated in the
Highlands as the person to whose influence it was chiefly owing that the
New Testament was allowed to be translated into the Erse language. On
Saturday we set out towards Ayrshire, and on November 2 reached my
father's residence, Auchinleck.

My father was not quite a year and a half older than Dr. Johnson. His
age, office, and character had long given him an acknowledged claim to
great attention in whatever company he was, and he could ill brook any
diminution of it. He was as sanguine a Whig and Presbyterian as Dr.
Johnson was a Tory and Church of England man; and as he had not much
leisure to be informed of Dr. Johnson's great merits by reading his
works, he had a partial and unfavourable notion of him, founded on his
supposed political tenets, which were so discordant to his own that,
instead of speaking of him with that respect to which he was entitled,
he used to call him "a Jacobite fellow."

Knowing all this, I should not have ventured to bring them together had
not my father, out of kindness to me, desired me to invite Dr. Johnson
to his house. All went very smoothly till one day they came into
collision. If I recollect right, the contest began while my father was
showing him his collection of medals; and Oliver Cromwell's coin
unfortunately introduced Charles the First and Toryism. They became
exceedingly warm and violent; and in the course of their altercation
Whiggism and Presbyterism, Toryism and Episcopacy were terribly
buffeted. My father's opinion of Dr. Johnson may be conjectured by the
name he afterwards gave him, which was "Ursa Major." However, on leaving
Auchinleck, November 8, for Edinburgh, my father, who had the dignified
courtsy of an old baron, was very civil to Dr. Johnson, and politely
attended him to the post-chaise. We arrived in Edinburgh on Tuesday
night, November 9, after an absence of eighty-three days.

My illustrious friend, being now desirous to be again in the great
theatre of life and animated exertion, took a place in the coach, which
was to set out for London, on Monday, November 22; but I resolved that
we should make a little circuit, as I would by no means lose the
pleasure of seeing _Sam_ Johnson at the very spot where _Ben_ Jonson
visited the learned and poetical Drummond. Accordingly, we drove on the
Saturday to Roslin Castle, surveyed the romantic scene around it, and
the beautiful Gothic chapel. After that we proceeded to Hawthornden and
viewed the caves, and then drove on to Cranston, the seat of Sir John
Dalrymple, where we supped, spent the night, and passed on to the inn at
Blackshields. There on Monday morning Dr. Johnson joined the coach for
London. Dr. Johnson told me on parting that the time he spent in
Scotland, the account of which I have now completed, was the pleasantest
part of his life.




JAMES BRUCE

Travels to Discover the Source of the Nile


_I.--The City of the Dog Star_

  James Bruce was born at the family residence of Kinnaird
  in the county of Stirling, Scotland, on December 14, 1730.
  He was educated at Harrow and Edinburgh, and for five
  years was a wine and spirit merchant in London. In 1762 he
  went as British Consul to Algiers, and did not return to
  England again until June, 1774. In the interim, having
  travelled through Algiers, Tunis, Syria, some of the
  islands of the Levant, Lower and Upper Egypt, and the
  African and Arabian coasts of the Red Sea, he made his
  famous journeys in Abyssinia, during which he discovered
  the sources of the Blue Nile. On his return to Europe he
  met with a great reception from Buffon the naturalist, and
  the Pope at Rome, but was received with coldness in
  England, where the stories of his adventures were received
  with incredulity. His book, "Travels to Discover the
  Source of the Nile in the years 1768-73," did not appear
  till 1790, seventeen years after his return to Europe.
  After the publication of his great work, Bruce spent the
  remainder of his life in improving his Scottish estate. On
  April 26, 1794, at Kinnaird, when going downstairs to hand
  a lady guest to her carriage, his foot slipped, and he
  fell headlong, dying next morning.

In 1762 Lord Halifax gave me the appointment of British Consul at
Algiers, as affording me the opportunity of exploring the countries of
Barbary, and perhaps of making, later on, a discovery of the sources of
the Nile. On arrival at Algiers I studied closely surgery and medicine,
modern Greek and Arabic, so as to qualify myself to travel without an
interpreter.

I remained in Algiers for three years, and started early in 1768 on my
travels through that kingdom and Tunis, Crete and Rhodes, Syria, Lower
and Upper Egypt. Then I crossed the desert from Assouan to Cosseir on
the Red Sea, explored the Arabian Gulf, and after visiting Jidda,
arrived at Masuah [Massowah] on September 19, 1769. Masuah, which means
the "Harbour of the Shepherds," is a small island close upon the
Abyssinian shore, and the governor is called the naybe. He himself was
cruel, avaricious, and a drunkard, but Achmet, his son, became my
friend, as I had cured him of an intermittent fever, and on November 10
he carried me, my servants and baggage, from the island of Masuah to
Arkeeko, on the mainland, from which point my party started for the
province of Tigré, in Abyssinia, on November 15.

For days we travelled across a gravelly plain, and then over mountains,
bare and full of terrible precipices with thickly wooded intervening
valleys, and on November 22 we descended into the town of Dixan, in the
province of Tigré. It is inhabited by Moors and Christians, and the only
trade is that of selling children, stolen or made captives in war, who
are sent after purchase to Arabia and India. The priests are openly
concerned in this infamous practice. We were frequently delayed by
demands from local chiefs for toll dues, and did not arrive at Adowa
till December 6. This is the residence of the governor of the province
of Tigré--Michael Suhul, ras, or prime minister, of Abyssinia. The
mansion of the ras is situated on the top of a hill. It resembles a
prison rather than a palace, for there were in it 300 people confined in
irons, the object being to extract money from them. Some of them had
been there for twenty years, and most of them were kept in cages like
wild beasts.

On January 17, 1770, we set out on our way to Gondar, and on the
following day reached the plain where the ruins of Axum, supposed to be
the ancient capital of Abyssinia, are situated. In one square are forty
obelisks of one piece of granite. A road is cut in the mountain of red
marble, having on the left a parapet wall about five feet in height. At
equal distances there are solid pedestals, upon the tops of which stood
originally colossal statues of Sirius, Litrator Anubis, or Dog Star.
There are 133 of these pedestals, but only two much mutilated figures of
the Dog remain. There are also pedestals for figures of the Sphinx. Two
magnificent flights of steps several hundred feet long, all of granite,
are the only remains of the great Temple.

Within the site of the Temple is a small, mean modern church, very ill
kept. In it are what are supposed to be the Ark of the Covenant and the
copy of the law which Menilek, the son of Solomon and the Queen of
Sheba, is said in their fabulous history to have been stolen from his
father on his return from Jerusalem to Ethiopia. These are reckoned the
palladia of the country. Another relic of great importance is a picture
of the head of Christ crowned with thorns, said to have been painted by
Saint Luke. This relic on occasions of war with pagans and Mohammedans
is brought out and carried with the army. Within the outer gate of the
church are three small enclosures with octagon pillars in the angles, on
the top of which were formerly images of the Dog Star. Upon a stone in
the middle of one of these enclosures the kings of the country have been
crowned since the days of paganism; and below it is a large oblong slab
of freestone, on which there is a Greek inscription, the translation of
which is "Of King Ptolemy Euergetes, or the Beneficent."

We left Axum on January 20, and on the same day we saw three travellers
cutting three pieces of flesh, thicker and longer than our ordinary
beefsteaks, from the higher part of the buttock of a cow. The beast was
thrown on the ground, and one man held the head, while two others were
busy in cutting out the flesh.

I have been told that my friends have disbelieved this statement. I
pledge myself never to retract the fact here advanced, that the
Abyssinians do feed in common upon live flesh, and that I myself for
several years have been a partaker of that disagreeable and beastly
diet.

Travelling pleasantly enough, though finding it difficult to get food
from the natives, we came on February 4 to the foot of Debra Toon, one
of the highest mountains of the romantic range of Hanza. The toilsome
ascent of Lamalmon, an extensive table-land of great fertility, was
begun on February 8, and on the 14th we arrived at Gondar, the
metropolis of Abyssinia.


_II.--Savage Native Practices_

Gondar is situated on the flat summit of a hill of considerable height,
and consists of 10,000 families in time of peace. The houses are chiefly
of clay, with roofs thatched in the form of cones. The king's palace is
a square building on the west side of the town, flanked with towers, and
originally four stories high, but now only two. The audience chamber is
120 feet long, and the upper windows command a magnificent view of the
great lake Tzana. The palace and contiguous buildings are surrounded by
a stone wall 30 feet high, 1½ miles in circumference. A little way
from Gondar to the north is Koscam, the palace of the iteghé and the
king's other wives. Tecla Haimanout was at this time king, and Suhul
Michael was ras, or prime minister. They were absent at the time of my
arrival.

Petros, an important Greek, who was the only one in Gondar to whom I had
recommendations, came in a state of great dread to me, saying that he
had seen at Michael's encampment, a few miles from Gondar, the stuffed
skin of an intimate friend of his own swinging upon a tree, and drying
in the wind beside the tent of the ras. The iteghé and Ozoro Esther,
wife of Ras Michael, sent for me to the palace at Koscam to attend, as a
medical man, the royal families, because small-pox was then raging in
the city and surrounding districts. I saved the life of Ayto Confu, the
favourite son of Ozoro Esther, and others; and thereafter became
friends of the queen and her suite in the palace.

I rode out on March 8 to meet Ras Michael at Azazo, the scene of a great
battle which had been fought with Fasil, a Galla chief, who had broken
out in rebellion. The first horrid spectacle exhibited by him consisted
of pulling out the eyes of twelve Galla chiefs, who had been taken
prisoners. They were then turned out into the fields to be devoured by
hyenas. Next day the army of 30,000 men marched in triumph into Gondar.
On March 14, I had an interview with the ras, and he said that to
prevent my being murdered for my goods and instruments, and being
bothered by the monks about religious matters, the king, on his
recommendation, had appointed me baalomaal, the commander of the Koccob
Horse.

In the course of the campaign between the king and his rebel governors,
I joined his majesty's forces, and on May 18, 1770, I found myself at
Dara, fourteen miles from the great cataract of the Nile, which I
obtained permission to visit. The shum, or head of the people of the
district, took me to a bridge, which consisted of one arch of
twenty-five feet in breadth, with the extremities firmly based on solid
rock on both sides. The Nile is here confined between two rocks, and
runs in a deep channel with great, roaring, impetuous velocity. The
cataract itself was the most magnificent sight that ever I beheld. Its
height is forty feet. The river had been increased by the rains, and
fell in one sheet of water half a mile in breadth, with a noise that was
truly terrible, and made me for a time perfectly dizzy.

Returning to the king's army, I rode through a country of smoking ruins
and awful silence. The miserable natives, though Christians, were being
hunted to be sold into slavery to the Turks. I found that the campaign
was finished, and that we were to return to Gondar, on reaching which,
on May 30, Fasil returned to his allegiance. Having successfully
prescribed for Fasil's principal general, the king was so pleased that
he promised me any favour. I asked the village of Geesh at the source of
the Nile. Whereupon the king said:

"I do give the village of Geesh and its fountains to Yagoube (which was
my name) and his posterity for ever, never to appear under another name
in the Deftar (land register), and never to be taken from him, or
exchanged in peace or war."

On June 5 the king and Michael retired to Tigré; Gusho and Powussen--two
of the rebel governors--entered Gondar in triumph, and proclaimed a
young man, reputed to be the son of Yasous II., who died in 1753, king
under the name of Socinios. I remained at Gondar unmolested until
October 28, 1770, when I determined to make an attempt to reach the head
of the Nile, and with my followers and instruments marched through the
country of the Aroussi, much the most pleasant territory in Abyssinia,
being finely shaded with forests of the Acacia Vera, the tree which
produces the gum arabic. Below these trees grew wild oats of prodigious
height and size. I often made the grain into cakes in remembrance of
Scotland.


_III.--At the Source of the Nile_

After passing the Assar River, going in a south-east direction, we had
for the first time a distinct view of the high mountain of Geesh, the
long-wished-for end of our dangerous and troublesome journey. This was
on November 2, 1770, and on the following day we rode through a marshy
plain in which the Nile winds more in the space of four miles than I
believe any river in the world. It is not here more than 20 feet broad
and one deep. After this, we pushed forward to a terrible range of
mountains, in which is situated the village of Geesh, where are the
long-expected fountains of the Nile. These mountains are disposed one
range behind the other, nearly in the form of arcs, and three
concentrate circles, which seems to suggest the idea that they are the
Montes Lunæ of antiquity, or the Mountains of the Moon, at the foot of
which the Nile was said to rise. The highest, Amid-Amid, does not exceed
half a mile in height. Crossing the mountains, we had a distinct view of
the territory of Sacala, the mountain of Geesh, and the church of St.
Michael.

Immediately below us was the Nile itself, now a mere brook, with
scarcely water enough in it to turn a mill. I could not satiate myself
with the sight, revolving in my mind all those classic prophecies that
had given the Nile up to perpetual obscurity and concealment. I ran down
the hill towards a little island of green sods, and I stood in rapture
over the principal fountain of the Nile, which rises in the middle of
it. This was November 4, 1770.

It is easier to imagine than to describe the situation of my mind at
that moment, standing on that spot which had baffled the genius,
industry and inquiry of both ancients and moderns over a course of
nearly 3,000 years. Though a mere private Briton, I triumphed here in my
own mind over kings and their armies.

The Agows of Damot pay divine honours to the Nile, sacrificing
multitudes of cattle to the spirit which is supposed to reside at its
source. From the edge of the cliff at Geesh the ground slopes to the
marsh, in whose centre is a hillock, which is the altar on which the
religious ceremonies of the Agows are performed. A shallow trench
surrounds it, and collects the water which flows from a hole in the
middle of the hillock, three feet in diameter and six feet in depth.
This is the principal fountain of the Nile.

Ten feet from this spring is a second fountain, about eleven inches in
diameter and eight feet deep; and at twenty feet distance there is a
third, two feet in diameter and six feet in depth. Both of these are
enclosed, like the first, by an altar of turf. The water from all these
joins and flows eastward in quantities sufficient to fill a pipe of
about two inches in diameter.

I made no fewer than thirty-five observations with the view of
determining with the utmost precision the latitude of the fountains of
the Nile, and I found the mean result to be 10° 59' 25" north latitude.
Equally careful observations proved them to be 36° 55' 30" east
longitude. The mercury in the barometer indicated a height above the sea
of more than two miles. The Shum of Geesh, whose title is kefla abay,
"the Servant of the Nile," told me that the Agows called the river "The
Everlasting God, Light of the World, Eye of the World, God of Peace,
Saviour, Father of the Universe."

Once a year, on the first appearance of the Dog Star, the kefla abay
assembles all the heads of the clans at the principal altar, where a
black heifer that never bore a calf is sacrificed. The carcase, which is
washed all over with Nile water, is divided among the different tribes,
and eaten on the spot, raw, and with Nile water. The bones are burned to
ashes, and the head, wrapped in the skin, is carried into a huge cave.
On November 9 I traced on foot the whole course of the river to the
plain of Guotto, and next day we left Geesh on our return to Gondar,
which was reached on the 19th.


_IV.--The Return to Egypt_

Shortly afterwards Socinios, the usurping king, fled on the approach of
King Tecla and Ras Michael with 20,000 men. On their entry into the
city, those who had sympathised with the usurper were executed in
hundreds with a wanton cruelty which shocked and disgusted me. The
bodies of the victims were cut in pieces and scattered about the
streets, and hundreds of hyenas came down from the neighbouring
mountains to feed on the human carrion. I determined to do the best I
could to escape from this bloody country, but was constrained to take a
part in the civil war, and commanded a force of heavy cavalry in King
Tecla's army in the three battles of Serbraxos. My performances so
pleased the king that he decorated me with a heavy gold chain containing
184 links. The upshot of the campaign was that Michael was banished to
Begender and the former rebel Gusho appointed ras in his place.

After many delays I was allowed to depart for Egypt on September 28,
1771, and, passing through the Shangalla country, I reached, on January
2, 1772, the enchanted mountain country of Tcherkin, which abounded in
game--elephants, rhinoceroses, buffaloes, etc. Here they have an
extraordinary way of hunting the elephant by severing the tendon above
the heel of the hind leg with a sharp sword. At Hor Cacamoot, which
means the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I was on January 20 attacked
with dysentery, and compelled to remain there until March 17. Many
hardships were endured and servants lost in a simoom which overtook us
in the march to the Atbara, and after numerous adventures in the country
of the Nubas--pagans, negroids, worshippers of the moon--I arrived on
April 29 at Sennaar, where I was compelled to remain four months.

Summoned to wait upon the king, I found him in a clay-built palace
covering a very extensive area, and of one story. The dress of the king
was simply a loose shirt of Surat blue cotton cloth. I was asked to
treat medically the three principal queens. The favourite was six feet
high, and corpulent beyond all proportion. She seemed to me, next the
elephant and the rhinoceros, to be the largest living creature I had
ever met. A ring of gold passed through her upper lip and weighed it
down like a flap to cover her chin. Her ears reached to her shoulders,
and had the appearance of wings. In each was a large ring of gold; she
had a gold necklace of several rows, and her ankles bore manacles of
gold.

At Sennaar the Nile gets its name of Babar El Azergue, the Blue River.
The meat diet of the upper classes is beef, partly roasted and partly
raw. That of the common people is camel's flesh, the liver and
spare-rib of which are eaten raw. During my stay here I was compelled
to part with all but six of the 184 links of the gold chain which I
received from the king of Abyssinia, to pay for supplies, and I was glad
when permitted to depart on September 2, 1772.

On October 26 we arrived at Gooz, the capital of Barbar. There we made
preparations to cross the great desert, beginning the journey on
November 9. One day we saw twenty moving pillars of sand. On another
occasion we met the simoom, the purple haze in rushing past threatening
suffocation. Many of the wells had dried up, our water and our
provisions became exhausted, our camels died, all of the party suffered
from thirst and fever, and on November 25, in order to save our lives,
we abandoned my valuable papers, quadrant, telescopes, and other
instruments, at Saffieha.

Two days afterwards we got a view of a range of hills marking the course
of the Nile. In the evening we heard the noise of water, and saw a flock
of birds. Christians, Moors, and Turks all burst into tears, embracing
one another and thanking God for our deliverance. That night we encamped
at Seielut, and next morning we came on foot to Assouan. With one accord
we ran to the Nile to drink. I sat down under the shade of a palm and
fell into a profound sleep. We were received heartily by the aga, and
after resting five or six days to recover, we retraced our steps to
Saffieha, and I had the satisfaction of recovering all my baggage. On
December 11 we left Assouan, and sailed down the Nile for Cairo, where
we arrived on January 10, 1773.




JOHN LEWIS BURCKHARDT

Travels in Nubia


_I.--On the Eastern Bank of the Nile_

  John Lewis Burckhardt was born at Lausanne, Switzerland,
  Nov. 24, 1784. He declined a diplomatic appointment in
  Germany, and came to England in 1806, bringing with him
  letters of introduction to Sir Joseph Banks, from
  Professor Blumenbach, the celebrated naturalist of
  Göttingen. He tendered his services as an explorer to the
  Association for Promoting the Discovery of the Interior
  Parts of Africa. His offer was accepted, and Burckhardt
  left England on March 2, 1809, and proceeded to Syria,
  where, disguised as an Indian Mohammedan merchant, he
  spent two and a half years, learning among Arab tribes
  different dialects of Arabic. In 1812, he went to Egypt,
  intending to join a caravan for Fezzan in order to explore
  the sources of the Niger; but, being frustrated in that,
  he made his two expeditions into Nubia which form the
  subject of the present epitome. In June, 1815, he returned
  to Cairo, and prepared his journals for publication. After
  making a tour to Suez and Sinai in 1816, he was suddenly
  cut off by dysentery in Cairo on October 15, 1817.
  Although he did not learn English until he was twenty-four
  years of age, Burckhardt's journals are written with
  remarkable spirit, more especially considering that his
  notes had all to be taken secretly.

I left Assouan on February 24, 1813, to make my journey through Nubia.
Assouan is the most romantic spot in Egypt, but little deserving the
lofty praise which some travellers have bestowed upon it for its
antiquities and those of the neighbouring island of Elephantine. I
carried with me nothing but my gun, sabre, and pistol, a provision bag,
and a woollen mantle, which served either for a carpet or a covering
during the night. I was dressed in the blue gown of the merchants of
Upper Egypt. After estimating the expense I was likely to incur in
Nubia, I put eight Spanish dollars into my purse in conformity with the
principle I have consistently acted upon during my travels--viz., that
the less the traveller spends while on the march, and the less money he
carries with him, the less likely are his travelling projects to
miscarry.

After crossing the mountain opposite Philæ, I passed the night in the
house of a sheikh at Wady Debot, where I first tasted the country dish
which during my journey became my constant food--viz., thin unleavened
and slightly-baked cakes of dhourra, served with sweet or sour milk.
From here to Dehmyt, the grand chain of mountains on the east side of
the Nile is uninterrupted; but from the latter place to the second
cataract, beyond Wady Halfa, the mountains are of sandstone, except some
granite rocks above Talfa. The shore widens at Korosko, and groves of
date-trees adorn the banks all the way past Derr to Ibrim. The rich
deposit of the river on the eastern bank yields large crops of dhourra
and cotton. It is different on the western shore, where the desert
sands, blown by the north-west winds, are swept up to the very brink of
the river.

It is near Derr that occurs the most ancient known temple, entirely hewn
out of the sandstone rock. The gods of Egypt seemed to have been
worshipped here long before they were lodged in the gigantic temples of
Karnac and Gorne. At Ibrim there is an aga, independent of the governors
of Nubia, and the inhabitants pay no taxes. They are descendants of
Bosnian soldiers who were sent by the great Sultan Selym to garrison the
castle of Ibrim, now a ruin, against the Mamelouks. In no parts of the
Eastern world have I ever found property in such perfect security as in
Ibrim. The Ababde Arabs between Derr and Dongola are very poor. They
pride themselves on the purity of their race and the beauty of their
women, and refuse to intermarry with the Nubians.

Beyond Wady Halfa is the second cataract, and the foaming waters dashing
against the black-and-green rocks, or forming quiet pools and lakes, so
that the Nile expands to two miles in breadth, is a most impressive
sight. The rapids render navigation impossible between here and Sukkot,
a distance of a hundred miles, and the river is hemmed in sometimes by
high banks, as at Mershed, where I could throw a stone over to the
opposite side. The rock, which had been sandstone hitherto, changes its
nature at the second cataract to granite and quartz.

At Djebel Lamoule, which we reached on March 9, we had to follow a
mountain track, and, on approaching the river again, the Arab who acted
as guide tried to extract from me a present by collecting a heap of
sand, and placing a stone at each extremity to indicate that a
traveller's tomb is made. I immediately alighted from my camel, and
began to make another tomb, telling him that it was intended for his own
sepulchre, for, as we were brethren, it was but just that we should be
buried together. At this he began to laugh. We mutually destroyed each
other's labour, and in riding along he exclaimed from the Koran: "No
mortal knows the spot on earth where his grave shall be digged." In the
plain of Aamara, which begins the district of Say, there is a fine
Egyptian temple, the six columns of which are of calcareous stone--the
only specimen of that material to be met with, those in Egypt being all
sandstone.

On March 13 we reached the territory of Mahass, and at the castle of
Tinareh I visited the camp of Mohammed Kashefs, a Mamelouk chief who had
captured the castle from a rebel cousin of the Mahass king. He behaved
like a madman, got very drunk on palm wine, and threatened to cut off my
head on suspicion of my being an agent of the pasha of Egypt, who was
the enemy of the Mamelouks. Had it not been for the arrival of the
nephew of the governor of Sukkot, the threat would in all probability
have been carried into execution.


_II.--Discoveries in Egyptian Temples_

On March 15 my guide and I escaped from the Mamelouk's camp, and at
Kolbé crossed to the west side of the river by swimming at the tail of
our camels, each beast having an inflated goatskin tied to its neck. I
thought it wise to return down the Nile to Assouan, and we pushed on as
hard as our camels could proceed. Passing the cataracts at Wady Samme
and Wady Halfa, we came to Wady Fereyg, where there is a mountain on
both sides of the Nile. At the bottom of that, on the west side, is a
hitherto undiscovered temple named Ebsambal. The temple stands about
twenty feet above the surface of the water, entirely cut out of the
almost perpendicular rocky side of the mountain, and is in complete
preservation. In front of the entrance are six erect colossal figures
representing juvenile persons, three on each side of the entrance, in
narrow recesses. Their height from the ground to the knee is about 6½
feet. The spaces of the smooth rock between the niches are covered with
hieroglyphics, as are also the walls of the interior. The statues
represent Osiris, Isis, and a youth, and each has small figures beside
it four feet high.

I was about to climb the mountain to rejoin my guide and the camels,
when I fell in with what is yet visible of four immense colossal statues
cut out of the rock at a distance of 200 yards from the temple. They
stand in a deep recess excavated in the mountain, and are almost
entirely buried beneath the sands, which are blown down here in
torrents. The entire head and part of the breast and arms of one of the
statues are yet above the surface. The head has a most expressive
youthful countenance, approaching nearer to the Grecian model of beauty
than that of any ancient Egyptian figure I have seen. Indeed, were it
not for a thin, oblong beard, it would pass for a head of Pallas. This
statue measures seven yards across the shoulders, and could not, if in
an upright posture, be less than sixty-five or seventy feet in height.
The ear is one yard and four inches in length.

On the wall of the rock in the centre of the four statues is a figure of
the hawk-headed Osiris, surmounted by a globe; beyond which, I suspect,
could the sand be cleared away, a vast temple would be discovered, to
the entrance of which the colossal figures serve as ornaments. I should
pronounce these works to belong to the finest period of Egyptian
sculpture, and that the hieroglyphics are of the same age as those on
the temple of Derr.

I continued my journey along the west bank of the Nile, and in the
course of several days inspected the ruins of all the known ancient
temples and early Greek churches. Summing up my impressions of the
temples, I would say that we find in Nubia specimens of all the
different eras of Egyptian architecture and history, which indeed can
only be traced in Nubia; for all the remaining temples in Egypt, that of
Gorne, perhaps, excepted, appear to have been erected in an age when the
science of architecture had nearly attained to perfection.


_III.--Across the Nubian Desert_

I reached Assouan on March 30, after an absence of thirty-five days,
having travelled at the rate of ten hours each day. On April 9, I
proceeded to Esné, which I had made my headquarters in Upper Egypt.

I remained at Esné till the spring of 1814, waiting for an opportunity
to start with a caravan of slave-traders towards the interior parts of
Nubia in a more easterly direction than I had been in my journey towards
Dongola. At the end of February I heard that a caravan was on the point
of starting from Daraou, three days' journey north of Esné, for the
confines of Sennaar, and I determined to accompany it and try my
fortune on this new route without any servant and in the garb of a poor
trader.

The start was made on March 2, 1814, and from the first day of our
departure my companions treated me with neglect, and even with contempt.
Although they had no idea I was a Frank, they imagined that I was of
Turkish origin, an opinion sufficient to excite the ill-treatment of
Arabs, who bear the most inveterate hatred to the Osmanli. From the
small quantity of merchandise I had, they considered I was a trader
running away from my creditors, but I succeeded in convincing them that
I was travelling in search of a lost cousin who had made an expedition
to Darfour and Sennaar in Nubia, in which the whole of my property was
engaged.

At Wady el Nabeh, the wells of which have a great repute all through
Nubia, and which we reached on March 14, we met a band of Ababdes
driving thirty slaves before them, which they were taking to sell in
Egypt. In general, I found the dreaded Nubian deserts--as far as Shigré,
at least, which we reached on March 16 with difficulty, on account of
shortage of water--of much less dreary appearance than the great Syrian
desert, and still less so than the desert of Suez and Tyh. The high
mountains of Shigré consist of huge blocks of granite heaped upon one
another in the wildest confusion.

During the whole march we were surrounded on all sides by lakes of
mirage, called by the Arabs "serab." Its colour was of the purest azure,
and so clear that the shadows of the mountains which bordered the
horizon were reflected on it with the greatest precision, and the
delusion of its being a sheet of water was thus rendered still more
perfect. We experienced great suffering from the reckless waste of water
and the dryness of the wells which were expected to yield supplies; and
so serious did it become that twelve of the strongest of the camels
were selected to hasten forward to fetch a supply of water from the
nearest part of the Nile. They returned the following morning from their
desperate mission, bringing with them plentiful supplies of the
delicious water of the Nile, in which we revelled, enabling us to reach
Berber on March 23, the whole desert journey having taken us twenty-two
days.

The governor of Berber, which consists of four villages, is called the
mek, and is nominated by the king of Sennaar. He, however, exercises a
feeble authority over the Arabs. The people of Berber are a handsome
race. The men are taller, larger-limbed, and stronger than the
Egyptians, and red-brown in colour. The features are not those of the
negro, the face being oval, and the nose perfectly Grecian. They say,
"We are Arabs, not negroes." The practice of drunkenness and debauchery
is universal, and everything discreditable to humanity is found in their
character.

I remained a fortnight in Berber, and on April 7 our caravan, reduced to
two-thirds of its original numbers, set out for Shendy. Three days
afterwards we came to Damer, a town of 500 houses, neat and clean, with
regular tree-shaded streets. The inhabitants are Arabs of the tribe of
Medja-ydin, and the greater part of them are Fokera, or religious men.
They have a pontiff called El Faky El Kebir (the great faky), who is
their chief and judge. In the mosque there is a famous school attended
by young men from Darfour, Sennaar, Kordofan, and other parts of the
Soudan; and the affairs of this little hierarchical state appeared to be
conducted with great prudence. From Damer we passed on to Shendy, where
we arrived on April 18.

This is a place of 1,000 houses, and the present mek owns large
salt-works near the town, where the ground is largely impregnated with
salt. Merchants from Sennaar buy up the salt and trade it as far as
Abyssinia. Next to Sennaar and Cobbé in Darfour, Shendy is the largest
town in the Eastern Soudan. Debauchery and drunkenness are as
fashionable here as in Berber. The people are better dressed, and the
women have rings of gold in their noses and ears. Shendy is the centre
of considerable trade, but its principal market is for slaves, who are
chiefly negroes, stolen from the interior.

The Abyssinian slave-women are reckoned the best and most faithful of
all, and are bought for the harems of the Arab chiefs. As to the
slave-traffic as a whole, laudable as the efforts of England have been
to abolish this infamous trade in Western and South-western Africa,
there does not appear to be the smallest hope of the abolition of
slavery in Africa itself. It is not from foreign nations that the blacks
can hope for deliverance. This great work must be effected by
themselves, and this can only be done by the education of the sons of
Africa in their own country and by their own countrymen.


_IV.--Among Savage Arab Tribes_

In the caravan for Souakin, which left Shendy on May 17, I joined myself
as a poor man to a party of black traders from Western Africa. After
five days spent in traversing sandy and gravelly plains, we came to the
Atbara river, which has a greater variety of natural vegetation than I
had seen anywhere on the banks of the Nile in Egypt. Having crossed the
Atbara, our route lay to the S.E., and we soon entered the country of
the Bisharein Arabs--a bold and handsome race.

The moral character of both sexes is wholly bad. They are treacherous,
cruel, avaricious, and revengeful, and are restrained in the indulgence
of their passions by no laws either human or divine. However, they have
a dread, especially the women, of a white man, and the latter shriek at
the sight of what they consider an out-cast of nature, saying, "God
preserve us from the devil." On May 31 the caravan broke into two parts,
one taking the direct road through the desert to Souakin, the other
proceeding by Taka; and I determined to accompany the latter. We
followed the course of the Atbara, and, after crossing stretches of the
desert, came, on June 3, to the village of Goz Radjeb, the centre of the
country of the Hadendoa, a tribe of the Bisharein. A Hadendoa seldom
scruples to kill his companion on the road in order to possess himself
of the most trifling article of value, but a retaliation of blood exists
in full force. They are not given to hospitality, as other Arabs are,
and they boast of their treachery. On June 6, we came to the district of
Taka, fertile and populous owing to the regular inundation of the Atbara
and its tributaries. A valley in the eastern mountains is noted for its
splendid breed of cattle and fine dhourra. The Bisharein here eat the
blood of animals coagulated over the fire, and the liver and kidneys
raw.

In an adjoining valley we encountered another tribe of Bisharein called
the Hallenga, who draw their origin from Abyssinia. They have a horrible
custom in connection with the revenge of blood. When the slayer has been
seized by the relatives of the deceased, a family feast is proclaimed,
at which the murderer is brought into the midst of them, bound upon an
angareyg, and while his throat is slowly cut with a razor, the blood is
caught in a bowl and handed round amongst the guests, every one of whom
is bound to drink of it at the moment the victim breathes his last.

A stay was made at Filik, the principal town of Taka, till June 15, when
the caravan struck N.E. by N., and marched alternately through sandy and
fertile country, across mountains of no great height, and plains with
herds of ostriches and fine cattle. The low grounds were frequently
intersected by the beds of torrential streams. One day, we crossed a
rocky plain with the soil strongly impregnated with salt, and pastured
by large herds of camels which the Arabs here keep for their milk and
flesh alone, seldom using them as beasts of burden.

On June 26 we arrived at El Geyf, an environ of Souakin--the town
itself, which consists of 600 houses, being on one of the islands in the
bay of Souakin. The inhabitants of Souakin are a motley race, and are
governed by the Emir el Hadherebe, a chief of the Bisharein tribe on the
neighbouring mainland, who is chosen by the five first families of the
tribe, but is nominally dependent upon the pasha of Djidda.

The manners of the people partake of the vices of their neighbours in
the desert, and in cruelty surpass them, and the law of the strongest is
alone respected. I was ill-treated by the aga, the representative of the
Turkish Government, until I produced the firmans which I had concealed
in a secret pocket, given me by Mohammed Aly, the viceroy of Egypt, and
by Ibrahim Pasha, his son. When the aga saw these with their handsome
seals, he regarded me as a great personage; but I refused to take up my
abode in his house, which hospitality he offered, and continued to live
in the camp of the black merchants on the mainland.

I had intended proceeding to Mokha by ship and then on to Sana, the
capital of the Yemen, from which place to make the pilgrimage to Mekka.
However, having heard of the war in the Hedjaz in Arabia, I abandoned my
project, and sailed from Souakin, on July 6, for Djidda, where I arrived
on July 16, and afterwards joined Mohammed Aly.




SIR RICHARD BURTON

Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah


_I.--The Pilgrim Ship_

  Sir Richard F. Burton, K.C.M.G., was born at Barham House,
  Hertfordshire, England, March 19, 1821. He was intended
  for the Church, and spent a year at Oxford; but showed no
  clerical leanings, and found a more congenial profession
  when he obtained a cadetship in the Indian Army in 1842.
  During the next few years he acquired an extraordinary
  knowledge of Mohammedan usages and languages that was
  afterwards to serve him in good stead. In 1849 he returned
  to England; in 1851 published three books on Indian
  subjects, and in April, 1853, set forth on his cherished
  and daring project of visiting in disguise the sacred
  cities of Islam. The voyage was a particularly dangerous
  one, Burton frequently having to defend his life, though
  in so doing he never took another life during the whole of
  the journey. The account of his "Pilgrimage to El Medinah
  and Meccah" was published in 1855. Afterwards he travelled
  in Somaliland, Central Africa, North and South America,
  and elsewhere, and unfailingly published books on his
  journeys. He died at Trieste on October 20, 1890.

Early in the morning of April 4, 1853, a "Persian prince" embarked at
Southampton for Alexandria. The "prince" was myself, about to undertake
a journey for the purpose of removing that opprobrium to modern
adventure, the huge white blot which on our maps still notes the eastern
regions of Arabia. I had hoped to make a more extended tour, but the
East India Company had only granted me a year's furlough, refusing the
three years that I had asked on the ground that my project was too
dangerous. The attempt was one that could not be made save in Mohammedan
disguise, and in order to conceal my identity effectively, I had thought
it prudent to assume this disguise ere leaving England. I was amply
supplied with funds by the Royal Geographical Society.

Several months were spent by me at Alexandria and Cairo in thoroughly
familiarising myself once again with Moslem tongues and usages, partly
forgotten during a four years' stay in the West. I diligently studied
the Koran, and became an adept at Mohammedan religious practices; and my
knowledge of medicine, by enabling me to set up as a doctor, brought me
into the close contact with all classes of Moslems that I required for
my purpose. I soon dropped the character of a Persian for that of a
wandering dervish; but afterwards a still more convenient disguise
occurred to me, and I visited El Medinah and Meccah as an Afghan Pathan
who had been educated at Rangoon.

Pilgrims to the holy shrines arriving at Alexandria are divided into
bodies, and distributed to the three great roads, namely, Suez, Cosseir,
and the Haj route by land round the Gulf of Akabah. My route was by
Suez, and at Suez I and my fellow-pilgrims had a long wait for a vessel
to convey us to Yambu, the port of disembarkation for El Medinah. During
this wait I had vexatious difficulties over my passport, which were only
solved by an appeal to the British consul.

I must now briefly describe the party into which fate threw me. First of
all comes Omar Effendi, a plump and beardless Circassian, of yellow
complexion and bilious temperament; he dresses respectably, pays
regularly, hates the fair sex, has a mild demeanour, but when roused
becomes furious as a tiger. His confidential negro servant, Saad, known
as the Devil, was born and bred a slave, obtained manumission, and has
wandered as far afield as Russia and Gibraltar. He is the pure African,
merry at one moment and sulky at another, affectionate and abusive,
reckless and crafty, quarrelsome and unscrupulous to the last degree.

Shaykh Hamid el Lamman, of El Medinah, is a perfect specimen of the
town Arab--his face a dirty brown, his beard untrimmed, his only
garment, an ochre-coloured blouse, exceedingly unclean. He can sing,
slaughter a sheep, deliver a grand call to prayer, shave, cook, fight,
and vituperate. Salih Shakkar is a Turk on his father's side, an Arab on
his mother's; he is as avaricious as an Arab, and as supercilious as a
Turk. All these people borrowed money from me. To their number must be
added Mohammed, a hot-headed Meccan youth, whom I had met in Cairo, and
who appointed himself my companion; and Shaykh Nur, my Indian servant.

Through the activity of Saad the Devil--not disinterested activity, for
he wanted to pay nothing himself and to make us pay too much--we were at
last able to book passages on the vessel Golden Thread. Amid infinite
clamour and excitement on a hot July morning we boarded her, only to be
threatened with loss of our places on the poop by a rush of Maghrabi
pilgrims, men from Western Africa, desperately poor and desperately
violent. Saad the Devil disposed of the intruders by the simple process
of throwing them into the hold. There the Maghrabis fell out with a few
Turks, and in a few minutes nothing was to be seen but a confused mass
of humanity, each item indiscriminately scratching, biting, punching,
and butting.

A deputation of us waited upon Ali Murad, the owner, to inform him of
the crowded state of the vessel. He told us to be good, and not fight;
to trust in Allah, and that Allah would make all things easy for us. His
departure was the signal for a second fray. This time the Maghrabis
swarmed towards the poop like angry hornets; Saad provided us with a
bundle of long ashen staves, and we laid on with might and main. At
length it occurred to me to roll an earthen jar full of water--weighing
about a hundred pounds--upon the assailants. After this they shrank back
and offered peace.

It was twelve days before we reached Yambu. The vessel had no compass,
no log, no sounding-line, nor even the suspicion of a chart. Each night
we anchored, usually in one of the many inlets of the Arabian coast, and
when possible we went ashore. The heat during the day was insufferable,
the wind like the blast of a lime-kiln; we lay helpless and half
senseless, without appetite and without energy, feeling as if a few more
degrees of heat would be death. Nothing, on the other hand, could have
been more delicious than the hour of sunrise. The air was mild and balmy
as that of an Italian spring; the mountains, grim and bare during full
daylight, mingled their summits with the jasper tints of the sky; at
their base ran a sea of amethyst. Not less lovely was the sunset, but
after a quarter of an hour its beauty faded, and the wilderness of white
crags and pinnacles was naked and ghastly under the moon.

On arriving at Yambu we had to treat for camels, and make provision for
the seven days' journey to El Medinah. As I had injured my foot on the
voyage, I bought a shugduf or litter, a vehicle appropriated to women
and infirm persons; it had the advantage that notes were more easily
taken in it than on a dromedary's back. At 7 p.m. on July 18 we passed
through the gate of Yambu, and took a course due east. My companions, as
Arabs will do on such occasions, began to sing.


_II.--In the Footsteps of Mohammed_

Our little party consisted of twelve camels, and we travelled in Indian
file, head tied to tail, with but one outrider, Omar Effendi, whose rank
required him to mount a dromedary with showy trappings. In two hours we
began to pass over undulating ground with a perceptible rise. At three
in the morning we reached the halting-place and lay down to sleep; at
nine we breakfasted off a biscuit, a little rice, and milkless tea, and
slept again. Dinner, consisting chiefly of boiled rice with clarified
butter, was at two; and at three we were ready to start. Towards sunset
there was a cry of thieves, which created vast confusion; but the
thieves were only half a dozen in number, and fled when a few bullets
were sent in their direction.

Next day we travelled through a country fantastic in its desolation--a
mass of huge hills, barren plains, and desert vales. The third day was
spent uncomfortably at El Hamra, a miserable collection of hovels made
of unbaked brick and mud. It was reported that Saad, the great
robber-chief, was in the field, and there was consequently danger that
our march would be delayed. The power of this ruffian is a standing
proof of the imbecility of the Turkish Government.

The Holy Land of El Hejaz drains off Turkish gold and blood in
abundance, and the lords of the country hold in it a contemptible
position. If they catch a thief, they dare not hang him. They must pay
blackmail, and yet be shot at in every pass. They affect superiority
over the Arabs, hate them, and are despised by them. Happily, we were
overtaken at El Hamra by a Meccan caravan which had influence to procure
a military escort; so we were able to proceed, with no serious
hindrance, to Bir Abbas.

In the evening of our first melancholy day at this hot, sandy, barren
spot, firearms were heard in the distance, betokening an engagement
between the troops and the Bedouins. It was not until the following
night that we were allowed to start. At dawn we entered an ill-famed
gorge called the Pilgrims' Pass. Presently, thin blue curls of smoke
rose from the cliffs on the left, and there rang out the sharp cracks of
the hillmen's matchlocks. From their perches on the rocks they fired
upon us with perfect comfort and no danger to themselves, aiming chiefly
at our Albanian escort. We had nothing to do but blaze away as much
powder, and veil ourselves in as much smoke as possible; we lost twelve
men in the affair, besides several of the animals.

We journeyed on through desolate mountain country, all of my companions
in the worst of tempers. I spent a whole day trying to recover from Saad
the Devil the money I had lent him at Suez. Ultimately, he flung the
money down before me without a word. But I had been right in my
persistence; had I not forced him to repay me he would have asked for
more. At last, after an abominably bad night's travelling, we climbed up
a flight of huge steps cut in black basalt. My companions pressed on
eagerly, speaking not a word. We passed through a lane of black scoria,
with steep banks on both sides.

"O, Allah! This is the sanctuary of the Prophet! O open the gates of Thy
mercy!" "O, Allah! Bless the last of Prophets with blessings in number
as the stars of heaven!" "Live for ever, O most excellent of Prophets!"
Such were the exclamations that burst from our party as the Holy City,
the burial place of Mohammed, lay before us in its fertile girdle of
gardens and orchards.

At our feet was a spacious plain, bounded in front by undulating ground;
on the left by the grim rocks of Mount Ohod; on the right by the gardens
of Kuba. On the north-west of the town wall was a tall white-washed
fort, partly built upon rock. In the suburb El Munakhah, near at hand,
rose the brand-new domes and minarets of the five mosques. Farther away
to the east could be seen the gem of El Medinah, the four tall towers,
and the flashing green dome under which rest the Prophet's remains.

We proceeded towards the gate, from which an eager multitude poured
forth to greet friends in the caravan. I took my abode with Shaykh
Hamid, who abandoned his former dirt and shabbiness and appeared clean,
well-dressed, and with neatly trimmed moustache and beard. He was to
pilot me through the intricate ceremonies of the visits to the
Prophet's tomb and the other holy places, and in the evening I set out
with him for the Haram, or sanctuary of the Prophet.

The Prophet's mosque at El Medinah is the second of the three most
venerable places in the world, according to Islamic belief; it is
peculiarly connected with Mohammed, as Meccah is with Abraham, and
Jerusalem with Solomon. On entering it, I was astonished at the mean and
tawdry appearance of a place so venerated in the Moslem world. There is
no simple grandeur about it, as there is about the Kaabah at Meccah;
rather does it suggest a museum of second-rate art, decorated with but
pauper splendour. The mosque is a parallelogram about 420 feet in length
by 340 broad, and the main colonnade in the south of the building,
called El Rawzah (the garden), contains all that is venerable. Shaykh
Hamid and I fought our way in through a crowd of beggars with our hands
behind us, and beginning with the right feet, we advanced towards the
holy places. After preliminary prayers at the Prophet's pulpit, we
reached the mausoleum, an irregular square in the south-east corner,
surrounded by walls and a fence. Three small windows enable one to peer
at the three tombs within--Mohammed's, Abubekr's, and Omar's. After long
praying I was permitted to look through the window opposite the
Prophet's tomb. I could see nothing but a curtain with inscriptions, and
a large pearl rosary denoting the exact position of the tomb. Many other
sacred spots had to be visited, and many other prayers uttered, ere we
left the building.

The principal places of pious visitation in the vicinity of El Medinah
are the mosques of Kuba, the cemetery El Bakia, and the martyr Hamzah's
tomb at the foot of Mount Ohod, the scene of one of Mohammed's most
famous battles. The mosques of Kuba are the pleasantest to visit, lying
as they do among the date-palm plantations, amid surroundings most
grateful to the eye weary with hot red glare. There were green, waving
crops and cool shade; a perfumed breeze, strange luxury in El Hejaz;
small birds warbled, tiny cascades splashed from the wells. The Prophet
delighted to visit one of the wells at Kuba, the Bir el Aris. He would
sit upon its brink with bare legs hanging over the side; he honoured it,
moreover, with expectoration, which had the effect, say the historians,
of sweetening the water, which before was salt.

On August 28 arrived the great caravan from Damascus, and in the plain
outside the city there sprang up a town of tents of every size, colour,
and shape. A tribal war prevented me from carrying out my intention of
journeying overland to Muscat, so I determined to proceed to Meccah with
the Damascus caravan. Accordingly, on August 31 I bade farewell to my
friends at El Medinah, and hastened after the caravan, which was
proceeding to Meccah along the Darb el Sharki, or eastern road. I had
escaped all danger of detection at El Medinah, and was now to travel to
Meccah along a route wholly unknown to Europeans.


_III.--At the Shrine of the Prophet_

Owing to the caravan's annoying practice of night marching, in
accordance with the advice of Mohammed, I could see nothing of much of
the country through which we travelled. What I did see was mostly a
stony and sandy wilderness, with outcrops of black basalt; occasionally
we passed through a valley containing camel-grass and acacia trees--mere
vegetable mummies--and surrounded with low hills of gravel and clay. At
a large village called El Sufayna we encountered the Baghdad caravan,
and quarrelled hotly with it for precedence on the route. At the halt
before reaching this place a Turkish pilgrim had been mortally wounded
by an Arab with whom he had quarrelled. The injured man was wrapped in
a shroud, placed in a half-dug grave, and left to die. This horrible
fate, I learnt, often befalls poor and solitary pilgrims whom illness or
accident incapacitates from proceeding.

At El Zaribah, an undulating plain amongst high granite hills, we were
ordered to assume the Ihram, or garb that must be worn by pilgrims at
Meccah. It consists simply of two strips of white cotton cloth, with
narrow red stripes and fringes. The women donned white robes and hideous
masks of palm leaves, for during the ceremonies their veils must not
touch their faces. We were warned that we must not quarrel or use bad
language; that we must not kill game or cause animals to fly from us;
that we were not to shave, or cut or oil our hair, or scratch, save with
the open palm; and that we must not cover our heads. Any breach of these
and numerous other rules would have to be atoned for by the sacrifice of
a sheep.

A short distance beyond this point we had a lively skirmish with
robbers, during which I earned a reputation for courage by calling for
my supper in the midst of the excitement. Meccah lies in a winding
valley, and is not to be seen until the pilgrim is close at hand. At
length, at one o'clock in the morning, in the course of our eleventh
march since leaving El Medinah, I was aroused by general excitement.
"Meccah! Meccah!" cried some voices; "the Sanctuary! O the Sanctuary!"
exclaimed others. I looked out from my litter, and saw by the light of
the southern stars the dim outlines of a large city. We were passing
over the last ridge by an artificial cut, and presently descended to the
northern suburb. I took up my lodgings at the home of a boy, Mohammed,
who had accompanied me throughout the pilgrimage.

The Kaabah, or House of Allah, at Meccah, which has already been
accurately described by the traveller Burckhardt, stands in an oblong
square, enclosed by a great wall, 257 paces long, and 210 broad. The
open space is surrounded by colonnades united by pointed arches and
surmounted by domes. The Kaabah itself is an oblong, flat-roofed
structure, 22 paces long and 18 broad; the height appears greater than
the length. It is roughly built of large irregular blocks of the grey
Meccah stone. It is supposed to have been built and rebuilt ten
times--first by the angels of Allah before the creation--secondly by
Adam; thirdly by his son Seth; fourthly by Abraham and his son; the
eighth rebuilding was during the lifetime of the Prophet.

On the morning of our arrival we bathed and proceeded in our pilgrim
garb to the sanctuary. There it lay, the bourne of my long and weary
pilgrimage. Here was no Egyptian antiquity, no Greek beauty, no barbaric
gorgeousness; yet the view was strange, unique; and how few have looked
upon the celebrated shrine! I may truly say that of all the worshippers
there, not one felt for the moment a deeper emotion than did the Haji
from the far north. But, to confess humbling truth, theirs was the high
feeling of religious enthusiasm; mine was the ecstasy of gratified
pride.

After drinking holy water, we approached as near as we could to the
sacred Black Stone, the subject of so much sacred Oriental tradition,
and prayed before it. The stone was surrounded by a crowd of pilgrims,
kissing it and pressing their hearts against it. Then followed the
ceremony of circumambulation. Seven times we passed round the Kaabah,
which was draped in a huge dark curtain, to which pilgrims clung
weeping. The boy Mohammed, by physical violence, made a way to the Black
Stone. While kissing it, I narrowly observed it, and came away persuaded
that it is a big aërolite. After several other ceremonies, I left the
holy place thoroughly exhausted.

I did not enter the interior of the Kaabah until later. Nothing could be
more simple; a marble floor, red damask hangings, three columns
supporting the cross-beams of the ceiling, many lamps said to be of
gold, and a safe of aloe-wood, sometimes containing the key of the
building, were all that was to be seen. Many pilgrims refuse to enter
the Kaabah for religious reasons. Those who tread the hallowed floor are
bound, among many other things, never again to walk barefooted, to take
up fire with the fingers, or to tell lies. These stipulations,
especially the last-named, are too exacting for Orientals.

Meccah is an expensive place during the pilgrimage. The fees levied by
the guardians of the Kaabah are numerous and heavy. The citizens make
large sums out of the entertainment of pilgrims; they are, for the most
part, covetous spendthrifts, who anticipate the pilgrimage by falling
into the hands of the usurer, and then endeavour to "skin" the richer
Hajis.

On September 12 we set forth for the ceremonies at Mount Arafat, where
Adam rejoined Eve after the Fall, and where he was instructed by the
archangel Gabriel to erect a house of prayer. At least 50,000 pilgrims
were encamped at the foot of the holy mountain. On the day after our
arrival we climbed to the sacred spots, and in the afternoon a sermon
was preached on the mountain, which I did not hear--being engaged, let
me confess, in a flirtation with a fair Meccan. At length the preacher
gave the signal to depart, and everyone hurried away with might and
main. The plain bristled with tent-pegs, litters were crushed,
pedestrians trampled and camels overthrown; single combats with sticks
and other weapons took place; briefly, it was a state of chaotic
confusion.

Next day was performed, at Muna, on the way back to Meccah, the ceremony
of stoning the Shaytan el Kabir, or Great Devil, who is represented by a
dwarf buttress placed against a rough wall of stones. The buttress was
surrounded by a swarm of pilgrims, mounted and on foot, eager to get as
near to the Great Devil as possible. I found myself under the stomach of
a fallen dromedary, and had great difficulty in extricating myself; the
boy Mohammed emerged from the tumult with a bleeding nose. Schooled by
adversity, we bided our time ere approaching to cast the seven stones
required by the ceremonial.

At Muna sheep were sacrificed by those pilgrims who, like myself, had
committed breaches of the rules. Literally, the land stank. Five or six
thousand animals were slain and cut up in this Devil's punch-bowl. I
leave the reader to imagine the rest. When I had completed El Umrah, or
the little pilgrimage--a comparatively simple addition to the other
ceremonies--I deemed it expedient to leave Meccah. The danger of
detection was constantly before me; for had my disguise been penetrated,
even although the authorities had been willing to protect me, I should
certainly have been slain by indignant devotees.

Issuing from Meccah into the open plain, I felt a thrill of
pleasure--such pleasure as only the captive delivered from his dungeon
can experience. At dawn the next morning (September 23) we sighted the
maritime plain of Jeddah, situated 44 miles distant from Meccah. Worn
out with fatigue, I embarked on a vessel of the Bombay Steam Navigation
Company, received the greatest kindness from the officers (I had
revealed my identity to the British consul at Jeddah), and in due time
arrived at Suez.

Let me conclude in the words of a long-dead brother traveller, Fahian,
"I have been exposed to perils, and I have escaped them; and my heart is
moved with emotions of gratitude that I have been permitted to effect
the objects I had in view."




SIR WILLIAM BUTLER

The Great Lone Land


_I.--The Red River Expedition_

  Sir William Francis Butler, G.C.B., born at Suirville,
  Tipperary, Ireland, Oct. 31, 1838, was educated at the
  Jesuit College, Tullabeg, King's County, and joined the
  British Army as an ensign in the 69th Regiment in 1858. In
  1877 he married Miss Thompson, the celebrated painter of
  "The Roll Call." Sir William Butler is a versatile writer,
  his works embracing records of travel, histories of
  military campaigns, biographies, and fiction. His first
  book was "The Great Lone Land," published in 1872. Half
  the volume is devoted to a sketch of the early history of
  the northwest regions of Canada, and to tracing the causes
  which led to the rebellion of the settlers--principally
  half-breeds--under Louis Riel, against the Canadian
  Government in 1870. He describes the romantic part he took
  in the bloodless campaign of the expeditionary force under
  Colonel (now Lord) Wolseley, from Lake Superior to
  Winnipeg, for its suppression. In the other half of the
  book he describes his journey on a special mission for the
  Canadian Government to the Hudson Bay forts and Indian
  camps in the valleys of the North and South Saskatchewan
  Rivers. Sir William, as a writer, has the rich vocabulary
  of the cultivated Celt; he presents many striking word
  pictures of the natural scenery of the regions he
  traversed. He was almost the first to proclaim the
  possibilities of the settlement of the Saskatchewan
  prairies, now receiving such an influx of population from
  all over the world.

It was a period of universal peace over the world. Some of the great
powers were even bent on disarming. To be more precise, the time was the
close of the year 1869. But in the very farthest West, somewhere between
the Rocky Mountains, Hudson Bay, and Lake Superior, along the river
called the Red River of the North, a people, of whom nobody could tell
who and what they were, had risen in insurrection.

Had the country bordering on the Red River been an unpeopled wilderness,
the plan of transferring the land of the Northwest from the Hudson Bay
Company to the crown, and from the crown to the Dominion of Canada,
might have been an eminently wise one. But, unfortunately, it was a
country which had been originally settled by the Earl of Selkirk in 1812
with Scots from the Highland counties and the Orkney Islands, and
subsequently by French _voyageurs_ from Lower Canada.

There were 15,000 persons living in peaceful possession of the soil thus
transferred, and these persons very naturally objected to have
themselves and their possessions signed away without one word of consent
or note of approbation. Hence began the rebellion led by Louis Riel,
who, with his followers, seized Fort Garry, with all its stores of arms,
guns, provisions, dominated the adjacent village of Winnipeg, and
established what was called a Provisional Government. The rebels went
steadily from violence to pillage, from pillage to robbery, much
supplemented by drunkenness and dictatorial debauchery; and, finally, on
March 4, 1870, with many accessories of cruelty, shot to death a
loyalist Canadian prisoner they had taken, named Thomas Scott.

When, at the beginning of April 1870, news came of the projected
dispatch of an armed force from Canada against Louis Riel and his
malcontent followers at the Red River, there was one who hailed in the
approaching expedition the chance of a solution to the difficulties
which had beset him in his career. That one was myself. Going to the
nearest telegraph station, I sent a message to the leader: "Please
remember me." I sailed at once for Canada, visited Toronto, Quebec, and
Montreal, interviewed many personages, and finally received instructions
on June 12 from those in authority to proceed west.

The expedition had started some time before for its true base of
operations, Fort William, on the north-west shore of Lake Superior. It
was to work its way from Lake Superior to the Red River through British
territory. My instructions were to pass round by the United States,
and, after ascertaining the likelihood of a Fenian intervention from the
side of Minnesota and Dakota, to arrange for supplies for the
expeditionary force from St. Paul; then to endeavour to reach Colonel
Wolseley beyond the Red River, with all the tidings I could gather as to
the state of parties and the chances of fight. At St. Paul my position
was not at all a pleasant one. My identity as a British officer became
known, and to escape unnecessary attention I paid a flying visit to Lake
Superior and then pushed on to Fort Abercrombie. I could find no
evidence at either place that there was a possibility at Vermilion
Lakes, eighty miles north of the latter place, of any filibusters making
a dash at the communications of the expeditionary force.

Afterwards, at Frog's Point on the Red River, I joined the steamer
International, which took me down to a promontory within a couple of
hundred yards of the junction of the Assiniboine and Red rivers, where,
with the connivance of the captain, I jumped ashore and escaped Riel's
scouts, who had heard of my coming, and had been ordered by their leader
to bring me into Fort Garry, "dead or alive." After a pursuit of several
hours in the dark, in which I had a narrow "shave" of being captured, I
reached the lower fort, occupied by loyalists, and thence passed on next
day to an Indian settlement. This was on July 23.

Riel, learning where I was, sent a messenger to say that the pursuit of
me had all been a mistake, and that I might safely come to Fort Garry. I
was anxious to see the position of affairs at the fort, and I repaired
thither, passing without challenge a sentry who was leaning lazily
against a wall. There were two flagstaffs; one flew a Union Jack in
shreds and tatters, and the other a bit of bunting with a _fleur-de-lys_
and a shamrock on a white field. I was conducted to a house, and asked
if I wished to see Mr. Riel. "To call upon him?" "Yes." "Certainly
not!" "But if he calls upon you?" "Then I will see him."

A door opened, and there entered a short, stout man with a large head; a
sallow, puffy face; a sharp, restless, intelligent eye; his square-cut,
massive forehead overhung by a mass of long and thickly clustering hair,
and marked with well-cut eyebrows--altogether a remarkable-looking face.
This was Louis Riel. He was dressed in a curious mixture of clothing--a
black frock coat, vest, trousers, and Indian mocassins. In the course of
the interview he denied he was making preparation to resist the
approaching British expeditionary force. Everything he had done had been
for the sake of peace and to prevent bloodshed; but if the expedition
tried to put him out of his position, they would find they could not do
it, and he would keep what was his till a proper governor arrived!

Eventually he said: "Had I been your enemy, you would have known it
before. I heard you would not visit me, and although I felt humiliated,
I came to see you to show my pacific inclinations."


_II.--The Expedition in the Wilderness_

An hour later I left the fort, hastened to my old quarters at the Indian
settlement, and started by canoe to seek the coming expedition. We
paddled down the Red River to Lake Winnipeg, crossing which we entered
the mouth of the Winnipeg River, and came to Fort Alexandra, a mile up
stream.

This river has an immense volume of water. It descends 360 feet in a
distance of 160 miles by a series of terraces; it is full of eddies and
whirlpools; has every variety of waterfall, from chutes to cataracts; it
expands into lonely pine-cliffed lakes and far-reaching island-studded
bays. My Ojibway crew with infinite skill accomplished the voyage
up-stream, surmounting falls and cataracts by making twenty-seven
portages in five days from leaving Fort Alexandra, during which we had
only encountered two solitary Indians. It was on the evening of July 30
that we reached the Lake of the Woods. Through a perfect maze of
islands, we steered across this wonderfully beautiful sheet of water to
the mouth of the Rainy River, up which we paddled to Fort Francis, where
we arrived on August 4, and heard, for the first time, news of the
expeditionary force.

We were now 400 miles from Fort Garry, and 180 miles beyond the spot
where I had counted upon falling in with them. Next morning we paddled
up to the foot of a rapid which the river makes as it flows out of the
Rainy Lake. Glancing along the broad waters of the lake the glint of
something strange caught my sight. Yes, there they were! Coming with the
full swing of eight paddles, swept a large North-west canoe, its
Iroquois paddlers timing their strokes to an old French chant. We put
into the rocky shore, and, mounting upon a crag which guarded the head
of the rapid, I waved to the leading canoe as it swept along. In the
centre sat a figure in uniform, with a forage-cap on head, and I could
see that he was scanning through a field-glass the strange figure that
waved a welcome from the rock. Soon they entered the rapid, and at the
foot, where I joined the large canoe, Colonel Wolseley called out:
"Where on earth have you dropped from?" "From Fort Garry," said I;
"twelve days out, sir."

It is unnecessary to describe the voyage to Fort Garry along the same
route which I had taken in my canoe. The expeditionary force consisted
of 400 of the 60th Rifles, soldiers whose muscles and sinews, taxed and
tested by continuous toil, had been developed to a pitch of excellence
seldom equalled, and whose appearance and physique told of the glorious
climate of these northern solitudes. There were also two regiments of
Canadian militia, who had undergone the same hardships. Some accidents
had occurred during the journey of 600 miles through the wilderness.
There had been many "close shaves" of rock and rapid, but no life had
been lost.

The expedition camped on August 23 within six miles of Fort Garry. All
through the day the river-banks were enlivened with people shouting
welcome to the soldiers, and church-bells rang out peals of gladness as
the boats passed by. I was scouring the woods, but found no Riel to
dispute the passage. Next morning the troops began to disembark from the
boats for the final advance to Fort Garry at a bend in the Red River
named Point Douglas, two miles from the fort. Preceded by skirmishers
and followed by a rear-guard, the little force drew near Fort Garry.
There was no sign of occupation; no flag on the flagstaff, no men upon
the walls, no sign of resistance visible. The gate facing the
Assiniboine River was open, and two mounted men entered the fort at a
gallop. On the top steps stood a tall, majestic-looking man--an officer
of the Hudson Bay Company, who alternately welcomed with uplifted hat
the new arrivals, and denounced in no stinted terms one or two
miserable-looking men who cowered beneath his reproaches.

With insult and derision Riel and his colleagues had fled from the scene
of their triumph and their crimes. On the bare flagstaff in the fort the
Union Jack was once more hoisted, and from the battery found in the
square a royal salute of twenty-one guns told settler and savage that
the man who had been "elevated by the grace of Providence and the
suffrages of his fellow-citizens to the highest position in the
government of his country," had been ignominiously expelled therefrom.
The breakfast in Government House was found untouched, and thus that
tempest in the teacup, the revolt of Red River, found a fitting
conclusion in the president's untasted tea!

Colonel Wolseley had been given no civil authority, and a wild scene of
drunkenness and debauchery among the _voyageurs_ and Indians followed
the arrival of the troops; but when the Hon. Mr. Archibald, the Civil
Governor, reached Winnipeg, he set matters completely to rest. Before
ten days elapsed the regular troops commenced their return journey to
Canada. On September 10, Colonel Wolseley also took his leave, and I was
left alone in Fort Garry. The Red River expedition was over. My long
journey seemed finished; but I was mistaken, for it was only about to
begin.


_III.--In the Far North-west_

Early in the second week of October the Hon. Mr. Archibald,
Lieutenant-governor of Manitoba, offered me, and I accepted, a mission
to the Saskatchewan Valley and through the Indian countries of the West,
and on the 24th of that month I quitted Fort Garry and commenced my long
journey. My instructions were to inquire into the state of affairs in
the territory; to obtain every particular in connection with the rise
and spread of the scourge of small-pox, from which thousands of Indians,
Esquimaux, and others had lately perished; to distribute medicines
suitable for its treatment to every fort, post, clergyman, or
intelligent person belonging to the settlements, or outside the Hudson
Bay Company's posts.

I made the first stage of 230 miles in five days to Fort Ellice, where
we stayed a couple of days to make preparations for the winter journey
into the Great Lone Land. It was near the close of the Indian summer,
and we travelled at the rate of fifty miles a day, I riding my little
game horse Blackie, while the Red River cart, containing the baggage and
medicines, was drawn by six horses--three in the shafts for a spell, the
other three running free alongside.

Between Fort Ellice and Carlton Fort you pass through the region of the
Touchwood Hills, around which are immense plains scored with the tracks
of the countless buffaloes which, until a few years ago, roamed in vast
herds between the Saskatchewan and Assiniboine. On November 4, and on
several successive days thereafter, snowstorms burst upon us, and the
whole country around was hidden in the dense mist of driving snowflakes.

On the 7th we emerged upon a hill plateau, and 300 feet below was raging
the mighty South Saskatchewan, with great masses of floating, grinding
ice. We contrived a raft made from the box of the wagon, but we could
not accomplish the passage in it. Later on, hard frost having set in, we
were able to cross the river on foot, with the loss of my horse Blackie,
and when half a dozen of the twenty miles to Carlton Fort had been
covered we met a party from it, including the officer in charge. The
first question was, "What of the plague?" And the answer was that it had
burned itself out.

On November 14, we set out again on our western journey, and crossed the
North Saskatchewan. On account of the snow we had discarded our cart and
used sleds. Travelling over hill and dale and frozen lake, we lost the
way in the wilderness, but, taking a line by myself, steering by the
stars, I came on November 17 to Fort Pitt, after having been fifteen
hours on end in the saddle.

Fort Pitt was free of small-pox, but 100 Crees had perished close around
its stockades. The unburied dead lay for days, until the wolves came and
fought over the decaying bodies. The living remnant had fled in despair
six weeks before my arrival. When we renewed our journey on November 20,
the weather became comparatively mild, and our course lay through rich,
well-watered valleys with groves of spruce and pine. Edmonton, which we
reached on November 26, is the headquarters of the Hudson Bay Company's
Saskatchewan trade and the residence of a chief factor of the
corporation.

My objective after leaving Edmonton on December 1 was Rocky Mountain
House, 180 miles distant by horse-trail. Our way led over hills and
plains and the great frozen Gull Lake to the Pas-co-pee, or Blind Man's
River, where we camped on December 3. At midnight there was a heavy
storm of snow. Next morning we rode through the defiles of the Three
Medicine Hills, and after midday, at the western termination of the last
gorge, there lay before me a sight to be long remembered. The great
chain of the Rocky Mountains rose their snow-clad sierras in endless
succession and in unclouded glory. The snow had cleared the atmosphere,
the sky was coldly bright.

An immense plain stretched from my feet to the mountains--a plain so
vast that every object of hill and wood and lake lay dwarfed into one
continuous level. And at the back of this level, beyond the pines and
lakes and the river courses, rose the giant range, solid, impassable,
silent--a mighty barrier rising amidst an immense land, standing
sentinel over the plains and prairies of America, over the measureless
solitudes of this Great Lone Land.

That night there came a frost, and on the morning of November 5 my
thermometer showed 22 degrees below zero. Riding through the foot hills
and pine woods we suddenly emerged on the high banks of the
Saskatchewan, and in the mid distance of a deep valley was the Mountain
House. There was great excitement at my arrival. My journey from the Red
River had occupied 41 days, and I had ridden in that time 1,180 miles.


_IV.--On the Dog Trail to Fort Garry_

I said good-bye to my friends at the Mountain House on December 12, and
once more turned my footsteps eastward. Without incident we reached
Edmonton, and there changed horses and travelled thenceforth, setting
out on December 20, with three trains of dogs--one to carry myself, and
the others to carry provisions and baggage. In fifty days of dog travel
we covered a distance of 1,300 miles, with the cold sometimes 45 degrees
below zero. Great as were the hardships and privations, the dog trail
had many moments of keen pleasure. It was January 19 when we reached the
high ground which looks down upon the forks of the Saskatchewan River.

We now entered the great sub-Arctic pine forest, the most important
preserve of those animals whose skins are rated in the markets of Europe
at four times their weight in gold. On January 22, 1871, we reached
Fort-a-la-Corne, where an old travel-worn Indian came with a mail which
contained news of the surrender of Metz, the investment of Paris, the
tearing up of the Treaty of Paris by the Prussians; and on being
questioned the old man said he had heard at Fort Garry that there was
war, and that England was gaining the day!

To cross with celerity the 700 miles lying between me and Fort Garry
became the chief object of my life. The next morning, with the lightest
of equipment, I started for Cumberland House, the oldest post of the
Hudson Bay Company in the interior. There I obtained, at fabulous
expense, a train of pure Esquimaux dogs, and started on January 31
through a region of frozen swamp for fully 100 miles. On February 7 we
reached Cedar Lake, thence sped on to Lake Winnipegoosis and Shoal Lake,
across a belt of forest to Waterhen River, which carries the surplus
floods of Lake Winnipegoosis to Lake Manitoba, the whole length of which
we traversed, camping at night on the wooded shore, and on February 19
arrived at a mission-house fifty miles from Fort Garry. Not without a
feeling of regret was the old work of tree-cutting, fire-making,
supper-frying, and dog-feeding gone through for the last time.

My mission was accomplished; but in the after-time, 'midst the smoke and
hum of cities, 'midst the prayer of churches, it needs but little cause
to recall again to the wanderer the message of the immense meadows where
far away at the portals of the setting sun lies the Great Lone Land.




The Wild North Land


_I.--From Civilisation to Savagery_

  This was Sir William Francis Butler's second book on the
  regions and the people of the great Northwest of Canada.
  The fascination of the wilderness had got a grip upon him,
  and he conveys something of the same fascination to the
  reader, whom he allures through the immense and solemn
  aisles of the great sub-Arctic forest, makes him a
  joint-hunter after the bison on the Great Prairie, or
  after the marten and the beaver on the tributary streams
  to the Saskatchewan and the Assiniboine rivers. The reader
  is carried into the fastnesses of the rapidly-disappearing
  Red Man in mid-winter, and there are graphic revelations
  of the daring deeds of the half-breed descendants of the
  white pioneers of the Hudson Bay Company and the
  _habitants_ from Lower Canada, who were the great
  discoverers and exploiters of the vast country between the
  Great Lakes and the Rocky Mountains, and beyond to the
  Pacific. Sir William's story is restrained and convincing,
  and his descriptions of his adventures in the Wild North
  Land and its wonderful scenery charm by their eloquence
  and poetic beauty.

It was late in the month of September, 1872, when, after a summer of
travel in Canada and the United States, I drew near the banks of the Red
River of the North. Two years had worked many changes in scene and
society. A "city" stood on the spot where, during a former visit, a
midnight storm had burst upon me in the then untenanted prairie.
Representative institutions had been established in the new province of
Manitoba. Civilisation had developed itself in other ways, but amidst
these changes of scene and society there was one thing still unchanged
on the confines of the Red River. Close to the stream of Frog's Point an
old friend met me with many tokens of recognition. It was my Esquimaux
dog, Cerf-Vola, who had led my train from Cumberland on the lower
Saskatchewan, across the ice of the Great Lakes. To become the owner of
this old friend again and of his new companions, Spanker and Pony, was a
work of necessity.

In the earliest days of October all phases of civilisation were passed
with little regret, and at the Rat Creek, near the southern shore of
Lake Manitoba, I bade good-bye to society, pushed on to the Hudson Bay
Company's post of Beaver Creek, from which point, with one man, three
horses, three dogs, and all the requisites of food, arms and raiment, I
started on October 14 for the North-west. I was virtually alone. My only
human associate was a worthless half-breed taken at chance. But I had
other companions. A good dog is so much more a nobler beast than an
indifferent man that one sometimes gladly exchanges the society of the
one for that of the other; and Cerf-Vola was that dog.

A long distance of rolling plain, of hills fringed with thickets, of
treeless wastes and lakes spreading into unseen declivities, stretches
from between the Qu'-Appelle to the Saskatchewan rivers. Through it the
great trail to the North lays its long, winding course, and over it
broods the loneliness of the untenanted. Alone in the vast waste Mount
Spathanaw Watchi lifts his head; a lonely grave at top; around 400 miles
of horizon. Reduced thus to its own nakedness, space stands forth with
almost terrible grandeur. It was October 25 when I once more drew near
the South Saskatchewan, and crossing to the southern shore I turned
eastward through a rich undulating land, and made for the Grand Forks of
the Saskatchewan, which we reached in the last days of October.

It is difficult to imagine a wilder scene than that presented from the
tongue of land which rises over the junction of the North and South
Saskatchewan rivers. One river has travelled through 800 miles of rich
rolling landscape; the other has run its course of 900 miles through
arid solitudes. Both have their sources in mountain summits where the
avalanche thundered forth to solitude the tiding of their birth.


_II.--The Twin Dwellers of the Prairie_

At the foot of the high ridge which marks the junction of these two
rivers was a winter hut built by two friends who proposed to accompany
me part of the long journey I meant to take into the Wild North Land.
Our winter stock of meat had first to be gathered in, and we accordingly
turned our faces westward in quest of buffalo. The snow had begun to
fall in many storms, and the landscape was wrapped in its winter mantle.
The buffalo were 200 miles distant on the Great Prairie. Only two wild
creatures have made this grassy desert their home--the Indian and the
bison. Of the origin of the strange, wild hunter, the keen untutored
scholar of Nature, who sickens beneath our civilisation, and dies amidst
our prosperity, fifty writers have broached various theories; but to me
it seems that he is of an older and more remote race than our own--a
stock coeval with a shadowy age, a remnant of an earlier creation which
has vanished from the earth, preserved in these wilds.

As to the other wild creatures who have made their dwelling on the Great
Prairie, the millions and millions of dusky bison, during whose
migration from the Far South to the Far North the earth trembled
beneath their tramp, and the air was filled with the deep, bellowing of
their unnumbered throats, no one can tell their origin. Before the
advent of the white man these twin dwellers on the Great Prairie are
fast disappearing.

It was mid-November before we reached the buffalo, and it was on
December 3, having secured enough animals to make the needful
pemmican--a hard mixture of fat and dried buffalo meat pounded down into
a solid mass--for our long journey, that, with thin and tired horses, we
returned to the Forks of the Saskatchewan. The cold had set in unusually
early, and even in mid-November the thermometer had fallen to thirty
degrees below zero, and unmittened fingers in handling the rifle became
frozen. During the sixteen days in which we traversed the Great Prairie
on our return journey we had not seen one human being moving over it.
The picture of desolation was complete.

When the year was drawing to its close, two Cree Indians pitched their
lodge on the opposite side of the North Saskatchewan and afforded us not
a little food for amusement in the long winter evenings. In the Red
Man's mental composition there is mixed up much simplicity and cunning,
close reasoning, and child-like suspicion, much natural quickness, sense
of humour, credulousness, power of observation, faith and fun and
selfishness.

Preparations had been made for my contemplated journey to the frozen
North. I only waited the arrival of the winter packet which was to be
carried 3,000 miles to distant stations of the Hudson Bay Company. A
score of different dog teams had handled it; it had camped more than 100
nights in the Great Northern forests; but the Indian postman, with dogs
and mail, had disappeared in a water-hole in the Saskatchewan river. On
February 3, therefore, I set out with my dog team, but without letters.

Two days afterwards we came to Carlton Fort, where there was a great
gathering of "agents" from all the forts of the Hudson Bay Company in
the north and west, many of them 2,000 miles distant, and one 4,000
miles. These "agents," or "winterers," as they are sometimes called,
have to face for a long season hardship, famine, disease, and a rigorous
climate. God knows their lives are hard. They hail generally from the
remote isles or highlands of Scotland. The routine of their lives is to
travel on foot a thousand miles in winter's darkest time, to live upon
the coarsest food, to feel cold such as Englishmen in England cannot
even comprehend, often to starve, always to dwell in exile from the
great world. Perchance, betimes, the savage scene is lost in a dreamy
vision of some lonely Scottish loch, some Druid mound in far-away Lewis,
some vista of a fireside, when storm howled and waves ran high on the
beach at Stornoway.


_III.--The Frozen Trail_

It was brilliant moonlight on February 11 when we left Fort Carlton, and
days of rapid travel carried us far to the north into the great
sub-Arctic forest, a line of lakes forming its rampart of defence
against the wasting fires of the prairie region. The cold was so intense
that, at mid-day with the sun shining, the thermometer stood at 26
degrees below zero. Right in our teeth blew the bitter blast; the dogs,
with low-bent heads, tugged steadily onward; the half-breeds and Indians
who drove our teams wrapped their blankets round their heads. To run was
instantly to freeze one's face; to lie on the sled was to chill through
the body to the very marrow. It was impossible to face it long, and over
and over again we had to put in to shore amongst the trees, make a fire,
and boil some tea. Thus we trudged, until we arrived at the Forks of the
Athabasca on the last day of February.

In the small fort at the Forks we camped for four days to enjoy a rest,
make up new dog trains--Cerf-Vola never gave out--and partake of the
tender steak of the wood-buffalo. For many days I had regularly used
snow-shoes, and now I seldom sought the respite of the sled, but tramped
behind the dogs. Over marsh and frozen river and portage we lagged till,
on March 6, a vast lake opened out upon our gaze, on the rising shore of
which were the clustered buildings of a large fort, with a red flag
flying above them in the cold north blast. The lake was Athabasca, the
clustered buildings Fort Chipewyan, and the flag--well, we all knew it;
but it is only when the wanderer's eye meets it in some lone spot like
this that he turns to it as the emblem of a home which distance has
shrined deeper in his heart.

Athabasca means "the meeting place of many waters." In its bosom many
rivers unite their currents, and from its northwestern rim pours the
Slave River, the true Mackenzie. Its first English discoverer called it
the "Lake of the Hills." A more appropriate title would have been the
"Lake of the Winds," for fierce and wild storms sweep over its waves.

Once more the sleds were packed, once more the untiring Cerf-Vola took
his place in the leading harness, and the word "march" was given. On the
evening of March 12 I camped alone in the wilderness, for the three
Indians and half-breeds who accompanied me were alien in every thought
and feeling, and on the fourth day after we were on the banks of the
Peace River.

Through 300 miles of mountain the Peace River takes its course.
Countless creeks and rivers seek its waters; 200 miles from
its source it cleaves the main Rocky Mountain chain through a chasm
whose straight, steep cliffs frown down on the black water through 6,000
feet of dizzy verge. Farther on it curves, and for 500 miles flows in a
deep, narrow valley, from 700 feet to 800 feet below the level of the
surrounding plateau. Then it reaches a lower level, the banks become of
moderate elevation, the country is densely wooded, the large river winds
in serpentine bends through an alluvial valley; the current, once so
strong, becomes sluggish, until at last it pours itself through a delta
of low-lying drift into the Slave River, and its long course of 1,100
miles is ended.

For 900 miles there are only two breaks in the even flow of its
waters--one at a point 250 miles from its mouth, a fall of eight feet
with a short rapid above it; the other is the great mountain cañon on
the outer and lower range of the Rocky Mountains, where a portage of
twelve miles is necessary. This Peace River was discovered in 1792 by a
daring Scotsman named Alexander Mackenzie, who was the first European
that ever passed the Rocky Mountains and crossed the northern continent
of America. The Peace River is the land of the moose, and, winter and
summer, hunter and trader, along the whole length of 900 miles, between
the Peace and Athabasca, live upon its delicious venison.

This, too, is the country of the Beaver Indians. It is not uncommon for
a single Indian to render from his winter trapping 200 marten skins, and
not less than 20,000 beavers are annually killed by the tribe. Towards
the end of March the sun had become warm enough to soften the surface
snow, and therefore we were compelled to travel during the night, when
the frost hardened it, and sleep all day.

On April 1, approaching the fort of Dunvegan, we were steering between
two huge walls of sandstone rock which towered up 700 feet above the
shore. Right in our onward track stood a large, dusky wolf. My dogs
caught sight of him, and in an instant they gave chase. The wolf kept
the centre of the river, and the carriole bounded from snow-pack to
snow-pack, or shot along the level ice. The wolf, however, sought refuge
amidst the rocky shore, and the dogs turned along the trail again. Two
hours later we reached Dunvegan, after having travelled incessantly for
four-and-twenty hours. Here I rested for three days, and then pushed on
to Fort St. John--our last dog march.


_IV.--Through Cañon and Rapid_

The time of winter travel had drawn to its close; the ice-road had done
its work. From April 15 the river began to break its ice covering, and
on April 20 spring had arrived; and with bud and sun and shower came the
first mosquito. I left Fort St. John on April 22, having parted with my
dog train, except the faithful, untiring Cerf-Vola; crossed the river on
an ice bridge at great risk, and horses and men scrambled up 1,000 feet
to the top of the plateau. There we mounted our steeds, and for two days
followed the trail through a country the beauty of which it is not easy
to exaggerate, and reached Half-way River, which we forded at infinite
risk on a roughly constructed raft, the horses being compelled to swim
the torrent.

Crossing the Peace River at the fort known as Hudson's Hope in a frail
canoe, I narrowly escaped drowning by the craft upsetting, losing gun
and revolver, although, wonderful to relate, the gun was recovered next
day by my half-breed attendant, who dredged it with a line and
fish-hook! From Hudson's Hope we made the portage of ten miles which
avoids the great cañon of the Peace River at the farther end of which
the river becomes navigable for canoes; and there we waited till April
29, when the ice in the upper part of the river broke up.

I took the opportunity of the delay to explore the cañon, which at this
point is 900 feet deep. Advancing cautiously to the smooth edge of the
chasm, I seized hold of a spruce-tree and looked down. Below lay one of
those grim glimpses which the earth holds hidden, save from the eagle
and the mid-day sun. Caught in a dark prison of stupendous cliffs,
hollowed beneath so that the topmost ledge literally hung over the
boiling abyss of water, the river foamed and lashed against rock and
precipice. The rocks at the base held the record of its wrath in great
trunks of trees, and blocks of ice lying piled and smashed in shapeless
ruin. It is difficult to imagine by what process the mighty river had
cloven asunder this wilderness of rock--giving us the singular
spectacle, after it had cleared the cañon, of a wide, deep, tranquil
stream flowing through the principal mountain range of the American
continent.

On May Day we started, a company of four--Little Jacques (a French miner
and trapper) as captain of the boat, another miner, my Scottish
half-breed servant, Kalder, myself, and Cerf-Vola--to pole and paddle
up-stream, fighting the battle with the current. Many a near shave we
had with the ice-floes and ice-jams. A week afterwards we emerged from
the pass to the open country, and before us lay the central mountain
system of north British Columbia, the highest snowcapped peak of which I
named Mount Garnet Wolseley, and there we camped. A mile from camp a
moose emerged from the forest; I took bead on him and fired, aiming just
below his long ears. There was a single plunge in the water; the giant
head went down, and all was quiet. We towed him ashore and cut him up as
he lay stranded like a whale. Directly opposite the camp a huge cone
mountain arose up some eight or nine thousand feet above us, and just
ere evening fell his topmost peak, glowing white in the sunlight, became
mirrored in the clear, quiet river, while the life stream of the moose
flowed out over the tranquil surface, dyeing the nearer waters into
brilliant crimson.

We came to the forks of the Peace River on May 9, took that branch known
as the Ominica, and through perils without number attempted to conquer
in our canoe the passage of the deep black cañon. Again and again we
were beaten back, and even lost our canoe in the rapids, although we
afterwards recovered it by building a raft. We discovered a mining
prospector who had a canoe at the upper end of the cañon, and agreed to
exchange canoes--he taking ours for his voyage down the river, while we
took his, after making a portage to a spot above the cañon, where it had
been cached.

Three days after we entered the great central snowy range of north
British Columbia; and on the night of May 19 camped at last at the mouth
of the Wolverine Creek by quiet water. There we parted with the river,
having climbed up to near the snow-line, and next day reached the mining
camp of Germansen, where I stayed several days and became acquainted
personally or by reputation with the leading "boys" of the northern
mining country. Twelve miles from Germansen there was another mining
camp, the Mansen, and from thence on to May 25 I started, in company
with an express agent, to walk across the Bald Mountains, on the topmost
ridge of which the snow ever dwells. On the other side of the mountains
we packed our goods on horses which we had obtained, and pushed forward,
only to encounter storms of snow and sleet on the summit of the
table-land which divides the Arctic and the Pacific Oceans.

Then followed the trail of the long ascent up Look-Out Mountain, from
which we gazed on 500 snowy peaks along the horizon, while the slopes
immediately beneath us were covered with the Douglas pine, the monarch
of the Columbian forest. It was May 29 when we entered the last post of
the Hudson Bay Company, St. James Fort on the southeast shore of the
beautiful Stuart's Lake, the favourite home of innumerable salmon and
colossal sturgeon, some of the latter weighing as much as 800 lb. After
a day's delay I parted with my half-breed Kalder, took canoe down the
Stuart River to the spot where the trail crosses the stream, and then
camped for the night. Having procured horses, we rode through a rich
land which fringes the banks of the Nacharcole River. Then during the
first two days of June we journeyed through a wild, undulating country,
filled with lakes and rolling hills, and finally drew rein on a ridge
overlooking Quesnelle. Before me spread civilisation and the waters of
the Pacific; behind me vague and vast, lay a hundred memories of the
Wild North Land; and for many reasons it is fitting to end this story
here.




JAMES COOK

Voyages Round the World


_I.--To the South Seas_

  Captain James Cook, son of a farm labourer, was born at
  Martin Cleveland, England, on October 27, 1728. Picking up
  knowledge at the village school, tending cows in the
  fields, apprenticed at Staithes, near Whitby, the boy
  eventually ran away to sea. In 1755, volunteering for the
  Royal Navy, he sailed to North America in the Eagle; then,
  promoted to be master of the Mercury, he did efficient
  service in surveying the St. Lawrence in co-operation with
  General Wolfe. His first voyage of discovery was in the
  Endeavour with a party to observe the transit of Venus in
  1768, and after three years he returned, to start again,
  on his second voyage, in 1772, with the Resolution and
  Adventure to verify reports of a southern continent in the
  Pacific. His third and last voyage in the Resolution led
  him to explore the coast of North America as far as Icy
  Cape, and returning to the Sandwich Islands, he met his
  death while pacifying some angry natives on the shore of
  Owhyhee (Hawaii), on February 14, 1779. The original folio
  edition of the "Voyages" was published in 1784, compiled
  from journals of Cook, Banks, Solander, and others who
  accompanied him.

We left Plymouth Sound on August 26, 1768, and spent five days at
Madeira, where Nature has been very liberal with her gifts, but the
people lack industry. On reaching Rio de Janeiro, the captain met with
much incivility from the viceroy, who would not let him land for a long
time; but when we walked through the town the females showed their
welcome by throwing nosegays from the windows. Dr. Solander and two
other gentlemen of our party received so many of these love-tokens that
they threw them away by hatfuls.

When we came in sight of Tierra del Fuego, the captain went ashore to
discourse with the natives, who rose up and threw away the small sticks
which they held in their hands, as a token of amity. Snow fell thick,
and we were warned by the doctor that "whoever sits down will sleep, and
whoever sleeps will wake no more." But he soon felt so drowsy that he
lay down, and we could hardly keep him awake. Setting sail again, we
passed the strait of Le Maire and doubled Cape Horn, and then, as the
ship came near to Otaheite, where the transit of Venus was observed, the
captain issued a new rule to this effect: "That in order to prevent
quarrels and confusion, every one of the ship's crew should endeavour to
treat the inhabitants of Otaheite with humanity, and by all fair means
to cultivate a friendship with them."

On New Year's Day, 1770, we passed Queen Charlotte's Sound, calling the
point Cape Farewell. We found the natives of New Zealand modest and
reserved in their behaviour, and, sailing northward for New Holland, we
called a bay Botany Bay because of the number of plants discovered
there, and another Trinity Bay because it was discovered on Trinity
Sunday. After much dangerous navigation, the ship was brought to in
Endeavour River to be refitted. On a clear day, Mr. Green, the
astronomer, and other gentlemen had landed on an island to observe the
transit of Mercury, and for this reason this spot was called Mercury
Bay.

Later, we discovered the mainland beyond York Islands, and here the
captain displayed the English colours, and called it New South Wales,
firing three volleys in the name of the king of Great Britain. After we
had left Booby Island in search of New Guinea, we came in sight of a
small island, and some of the officers strongly urged the captain to
send a party of men on shore to cut down the cocoanut-trees for the sake
of the fruit. This, with equal wisdom and humanity, he peremptorily
refused as unjust and cruel, sensible that the poor Indians, who could
not brook even the landing of a small party on their coast, would have
made vigorous efforts to defend their property.

Shortly afterwards, we were surprised at the sight of an island W.S.W.,
which we flattered ourselves was a new discovery. Before noon we had
sight of houses, groves of trees, and flocks of sheep, and after the
boat had put off to land, horsemen were seen from the ship, one of whom
had a lace hat on, and was dressed in a coat and waistcoat of the
fashion of Europe. The Dutch colours were hoisted over the town, and the
rajah paid us a visit on board, accepting gifts of an English dog and a
spying-glass. During a short stay on shore for the purchase of
provisions, we found that the Dutch agent, Mr. Lange, was not keeping
faith with us. At his instigation the Portuguese were driving away such
of the Indians as had brought palm-syrup and fowls to sell.

At this juncture Captain Cook, happening to look at the old man who had
been distinguished by the name of Prime Minister, imagined that he saw
in his features a disapprobation of the present proceedings, and willing
to improve the advantage, he grasped the Indian's hand, and gave him an
old broadsword. This well-timed present produced all the good effects
that could be wished. The prime minister was enraptured at so honourable
a mark of distinction, and, brandishing his sword over the head of the
impertinent Portuguese, he made both him and the men who commanded the
party sit down behind him on the ground, and the whole business was
accomplished.

This island of Savu is between twenty and thirty miles long; the women
wear a kind of petticoat held up by girdles of beads, the king and his
minister a nightgown of coarse chintz, carrying a silver-headed cane.

On October 10, 1770, the captain and the rest of the gentlemen went
ashore on reaching the harbour of Batavia. Here the Endeavour had to be
refitted, and intermittent fever laid many of our party low. Our
surgeon, Dr. Monkhouse, died, our Indian boy, Tayeto, paid the debt of
Nature, and Captain Cook himself was taken ill.

We were glad to steer for Java, and on our way to the Cape of Good Hope
the water was purified with lime and the decks washed with vinegar to
prevent infection of fever. After a little stay at St. Helena we sighted
Beachy Head, and landed at Deal, where the ship's company indulged
freely in that mirth and social jollity common to all English sailors
upon their return from a long voyage, who as readily forget hardships
and dangers as with alacrity and bravery they encounter them.


_II.--Round the World via the Antarctic_

The King's expectation not being wholly answered, Captain Cook was
appointed to the Resolution, and Captain Furneaux to the Adventure, both
ships being fully equipped, with instructions to find Cape Circumcision,
said to be in latitude 54° S. and about 11° 20' E. longitude from
Greenwich. Captain Cook was to endeavour to discover whether this was
part of the supposed continent or only the promontory of an island, and
then to continue his journey southward and then eastward.

On Monday, July 13, 1772, the two ships sailed from Plymouth, passing
the Eddystone, and after visiting the islands of Canaria, Teneriffe, and
others, reached the Cape of Good Hope on September 29. Here we stayed
until November 22, when we directed our course towards the Antarctic
circle, meeting on December 8 with a gale of such fury that we could
carry no sails, and were driven by this means to eastward of our
intended course, not the least hope remaining of our reaching Cape
Circumcision.

We now encountered in 51° 50' S. latitude and 21° 3' E. longitude some
ice islands. The dismal scene, a view to which we were unaccustomed, was
varied as well by birds of the petrel kind as by several whales which
made their appearance among the ice, and afforded us some idea of a
southern Greenland. But though the appearance of the ice with the waves
breaking over it might afford a few minutes' pleasure to the eye, yet it
could not fail to fill us with horror when we reflected on our danger,
for the ship would be dashed to pieces in a moment were she to get
against the weather side of these islands, where the sea runs high.
Captain Cook had directed the Adventure, in case of separation, to
cruise three days in that place, but in a thick fog we lost sight of
her. This was a dismal prospect, for we now were exposed to the dangers
of the frozen climate without the company of our fellow voyagers, which
before had relieved our spirits when we considered we were not entirely
alone in case we lost our vessel.

The spirits of our sailors were greatly exhilarated when we reached
Dusky Bay, New Zealand. Landing a shooting party at Duck Cove, we found
a native with his club and some women behind him, who would not move.
His fears, however, were all dissipated by Captain Cook going up to
embrace him. After a stay here we opened Queen Charlotte's Sound and
found the Adventure at anchor; none can describe the joy we felt at this
most happy meeting. They had experienced terrible weather, and having
made no discovery of land, determined to bear away from Van Diemen's
Land, which was supposed to join New Holland and was discovered by
Tasman, in 1642 A.D. Here they refitted their ship, and after three
months' separation met us again.

During all this arduous experience of seamanship, sometimes involved in
sheets of snow, and in mists so dark that a man on the forecastle could
not be seen from the quarter-deck, it was astonishing that the crew of
the Resolution should continue in perfect health. Nothing can redound
more to the honour of Captain Cook than his paying particular attention
to the preservation of health among his company. By observing the
strictest discipline from the highest to the lowest, his commands were
duly observed and punctually executed.

After a lengthened stay with the New Zealanders, and all hopes of
discovering a continent having now vanished, we were induced to believe
that there is no southern continent between New Zealand and America,
and, steering clear the island, we made our way to Otaheite, where the
Resolution lost her lower anchor in the bay. Excursions were made
inland, and King Otoo, a personable man, six feet in height, and about
thirty years of age, treated the party with great entertainment.

On January 30, 1774, we sailed from New Zealand, and reaching latitude
67° 5' S., we found an immense field of ice with ninety-seven ice-hills
glistening white in the distance. Captain Cook says: "I will not say it
was impossible anywhere to get further to the south, but the attempting
it would have been a dangerous and rash enterprise, and what I believe
no man in any situation would have thought of."

We therefore sailed northward again, meeting with heavy storms, and the
captain, being taken ill with a colic, and in the extremity of the case,
the doctor fed him with the flesh of a favourite dog.

On the discovery of Palmerston Island--named after one of the Lords of
the Admiralty--and Savage Island, as appropriate to the character of the
natives, we had some adventures with the Mallicos, who express their
admiration by hissing like a goose.

We stayed some time in Tanna, with its volcano furiously burning, and
then steering south-west, we discovered an uninhabited island, which
Captain Cook named Norfolk Island, in honour of the noble family of
Howard. We reached the Straits of Magalhaes, and, going north, the
captain gave the names of Cumberland Bay and the Isle of Georgia, and
then we found a land ice-bound and inhospitable. At last we reached
home, landing at Portsmouth on July 30, 1775.


_III.--The Pacific Isles and the Arctic Circle_

Former navigators had returned to Europe by the Cape of Good Hope; the
arduous task was now assigned to Captain Cook of attempting it by
reaching the high northern latitudes between Asia and America. He was
then ordered to proceed to Otaheite, or the Society Islands, and then,
having crossed the Equator into the northern tropics, to hold such a
course as might best probably give success to the attempt of finding out
a northern passage.

On the afternoon of July 11, 1776, Captain Cook set sail from Plymouth
in the Resolution, giving orders to Captain Clerke to follow in the
Discovery. After a short stay at Santa Cruz, in the island of Teneriffe,
we were joined by the Discovery at Cape Town.

Leaving the Cape, we passed some islands, which Captain Cook named
Princes Islands, and made for the land discovered by M. de Kerguelen.
Here, in a bay, we celebrated Christmas rejoicings amid desolate
surroundings. The captain named it Christmas Harbour, and wrote on the
other side of a piece of parchment, found in a bottle, these words:
_Naves Resolution et Discovery de Rege Magnæ Britanniæ Decembris 1776_,
and buried the same beneath a pile of stones, waving above it the
British flag.

Having failed to see a human being on shore, he sailed to Van Diemen's
Land, and took the ships into Adventure Bay for water and wood. The
natives, with whom we were conversant, seemed mild and cheerful, with
little of that savage appearance common to people in their situation,
nor did they discover the least reserve or jealousy in their intercourse
with strangers.

On our landing at Annamooka, in the Friendly Islands, we were
entertained with great civility by Toobou, the chief, who gave us much
amusement by a sort of pantomime, in which some prizefighters
displayed their feats of arms, and this part of the drama concluded with
the presentation of some laughable story which produced among the chiefs
and their attendants the most immoderate mirth. This friendly reception
was also repeated in the island of Hapaee, where Captain Cook ordered an
exhibition of fireworks, and in return the king, Feenou, gave us an
exhibition of dances in which twenty women entered a circle, whose hands
were adorned with garlands of crimson flowers, and many of their persons
were decorated with leaves of trees, curiously scalloped, and ornamented
at the edges. In the island of Matavai it is impossible to give an
adequate idea of the joy of the natives on our arrival. The shores
everywhere resounded with the name of Cook; not a child that could lisp
"Toote" was silent.

Before proceeding to the northern hemisphere we passed a cluster of
isles which Captain Cook distinguished by the name of Sandwich Islands,
in honour of the Earl of Sandwich. They are not inferior in beauty to
the Friendly Islands, nor are the inhabitants less ingenious or
civilised.

When in latitude 44° N., longitude 234° 30', the long expected coast of
New Albion, so named by Sir Francis Drake, was descried at a distance of
ten leagues, and pursuing our course we reached the inlet which is
called by the natives Nootka, but Captain Cook gave it the name of King
George's Sound, where we moored our vessels for some time. The
inhabitants are short in stature, with limbs short in proportion to the
other parts; they are wretched in appearance and lost to every idea of
cleanliness. In trafficking with us some displayed a disposition to
knavery, and the appellation of thieves is certainly applicable to them.

Between the promontory which the captain named Cape Douglas after Dr.
Douglas, the Dean of Windsor, and Point Banks is a large, deep bay,
which received the name of Smoky Bay; and northward he discovered more
land composed of a chain of mountains, the highest of which obtained the
name of Mount St. Augustine. But the captain was now fully convinced
that no passage could be discovered by this inlet. Steering N.E., we
discovered a passage of waves dashing against rocks; and, on tasting the
water, it proved to be a river, and not a strait, as might have been
imagined. This we traced to the latitude of 61° 30' and the longitude of
210°, which is upwards of 210 miles from its entrance, and saw no
appearance of its source. [Here the captain having left a blank in his
journal, which he had not filled up with any particular name, the Earl
of Sandwich very properly directed it to be called Cook's River.] The
time we spent in the discovery of Cook's River ought not to be regretted
if it should hereafter prove useful to the present or any future age,
but the delay thus occasioned was an effectual loss to us, who had a
greater object in view. The season was far advanced, and it was now
evident that the continent of North America extended much further to the
west than we had reason to expect from the most approved charts. A
bottle was buried in the earth containing some English coins of 1772,
and the point of land was called Point Possession, being taken under the
flag in the name of His Majesty.

After passing Foggy Island, which we supposed from its situation to be
the island on which Behring had bestowed the same appellation, we were
followed by some natives in a canoe who sent on board a small wooden box
which contained a piece of paper in the Russian language. To this was
prefixed the date 1778, and a reference made therein to the year 1776,
from which we were convinced that others had preceded us in visiting
these dreary regions.

While staying at Oonalaska we observed to the north of Cape Prince of
Wales, neither tide nor current either on the coast of America or that
of Asia. This circumstance gave rise to an opinion which some of our
people entertained, that the two coasts were connected either by land or
ice, and that opinion received some degree of strength from our never
having seen any hollow waves from the northward, and from our seeing ice
almost all the way across.

We were now by the captain's intention to proceed to Sandwich Islands in
order to pass a few of the winter months there, if we should meet with
the necessary refreshments, and then direct our course to Kamtchatka in
the ensuing year.


_IV.--Life's Voyage Suddenly Ended_

We reached the island called by the natives Owhyhee with the summits of
its mountains covered with snow. Here an eclipse of the moon was
observed. We discovered the harbour of Karakakooa, which we deemed a
proper place for refitting the ships, our masts and rigging having
suffered much. On going ashore Captain Cook discovered the habitation of
the Society of Priests, where he was present at some solemn ceremonies
and treated with great civility. Afterwards the captain conducted the
king, Terreeoboo, on to the ship with every mark of attention, giving
him a shirt, and on our visits afterwards on shore we trusted ourselves
among the natives without the least reserve.

Some time after, however, we noticed a change in their attitude.
Following a short absence in search of a better anchorage, we found our
reception very different, in a solitary and deserted bay with hardly a
friend appearing or a canoe stirring. We were told that Terreeoboo was
absent, and that the bay was tabooed. Our party on going ashore was met
by armed natives, and a scuffle arose about the theft of some articles
from the Discovery, and Pareea, our friendly native, was, through a
misunderstanding, knocked down with an oar. Then Terreeoboo came and
complained of our having killed two of his people.

On Sunday, February 14, 1779, that memorable day, very early in the
morning, there was excitement on shore, and Captain Cook, taking his
double-barrelled gun, went ashore to seize Terreeoboo, and keep him on
board, according to his usual practice, until the stolen boat should be
returned. He ordered that every canoe should be prevented from leaving
the bay, and the captain then awoke the old king and invited him with
the mildest terms to visit the ship. After some disputation he set out
with Captain Cook, when a woman near the waterside, the mother of the
king's two boys, entreated him to go no further, and two warriors
obliged him to sit down. The old king, filled with terror and dejection,
refused to move, notwithstanding all the persuasions of Captain Cook,
who, seeing further attempts would be risky, came to the shore. At the
same time two principal chiefs were killed on the opposite side of the
bay. A native armed with a long iron spike threatened Captain Cook, who
at last fired a charge of small shot at him, but his mat prevented any
harm. A general attack upon the marines in the boat was made, and with
fury the natives rushed upon them, dangerously wounding several of them.

The last time the captain was distinctly seen he was standing at the
water's edge, ordering the boats to cease firing and pull in, when a
base assassin, coming behind him and striking him on the head with his
club, felled him to the ground, in such a direction that he lay with his
face prone to the water.

A general shout was set up by the islanders on seeing the captain fall,
and his body was dragged on shore, where he was surrounded by the enemy,
who, snatching daggers from each other's hands, displayed a savage
eagerness to join in his destruction. It would seem that vengeance was
directed chiefly against our captain, by whom they supposed their king
was to be dragged on board and punished at discretion; for, having
secured his body, they fled without much regarding the rest of the
slain, one of whom they threw into the sea.

Thus ended the life of the greatest navigator that this or any other
nation could ever boast of, who led his crews of gallant British seamen
twice round the world, reduced to a certainty the non-existence of a
southern continent, about which the learned of all nations were in
doubt, settled the boundaries of the earth and sea, and demonstrated the
impracticability of a north-west passage from the Atlantic to the great
southern ocean, for which our ablest geographers had contended, and in
pursuit of which vast sums had been spent in vain, and many mariners had
miserably perished.




WILLIAM DAMPIER

New Voyage Round the World


_I.--Buccaneering in Southern Seas_

  William Dampier, buccaneer and circumnavigator, was born
  at East Coker, Somersetshire, England, in 1652, and died
  in London in March, 1715. At sea, as a youth, he fought
  against the Dutch in 1673, and remained in Jamaica as a
  plantation overseer. Next he became a logwood cutter on
  the Bay of Campeachy, and finding himself short of wood to
  barter for provisions, joined the privateers who waged
  piratical war on Spaniards and others, making "many
  descents among the villages." Returning to England in
  1678, he sailed again in that year for Jamaica; "but it
  proved to be a voyage round the world," as described in
  his book, and he did not reach home till 1691. In 1698 he
  was given command of a ship, in which he explored the
  Australian coast, but in returning was wrecked on the Isle
  of Ascension. In 1711 he piloted the expedition of Captain
  Woodes-Rogers which rescued Alexander Selkirk from the
  Island of Juan Fernandez. The "New Voyage Round the
  World," which was first published in 1697, shows Dampier
  to be a man of considerable scientific knowledge, his
  observations of natural history being trustworthy and
  accurate.

I first set out of England on this voyage at the beginning of the year
1679, in the Loyal Merchant, of London, bound for Jamaica, Captain
Knapman commander. I went a passenger, designing when I came thither to
go from thence to the Bay of Campeachy, in the Gulf of Mexico, to cut
logwood. We arrived safely at Port Royal in Jamaica, in April, 1679, and
went immediately ashore. I had brought some goods with me from England,
which I intended to sell here, and stock myself with rum and sugar,
saws, axes, hats, stockings, shoes, and such other commodities as I knew
would sell among the Campeachy logwood-cutters. About Christmas one Mr.
Hobby invited me to go a short trading voyage to the country of the
Mosquito Indians. We came to an anchor in Negril Bay, at the west end of
Jamaica; but, finding there Captains Coxon, Sawkins, Sharpe, and other
privateers, Mr. Hobby's men all left him to go with them upon an
expedition; and being thus left alone, after three or four days' stay
with Mr. Hobby, I was the more easily persuaded to go with them too.

I was resolved to march by land over the Isthmus of Darien. Accordingly,
on April 5, 1680, we went ashore on the isthmus, near Golden Island, one
of the Sambaloes, to the number of between 300 and 400 men, carrying
with us such provisions as were necessary, and toys wherewith to gratify
the wild Indians. In about nine days' march we arrived at Santa Maria,
and took it, and after a stay there of about three days, we went on to
the South Sea coast, and there embarked ourselves in such canoes and
periagoes as our Indian friends furnished us withal. We were in sight of
Panama on April 23, and having in vain attempted Pueblo Nuevo, before
which Sawkins, then commander-in-chief, and others, were killed, we made
some stay at the isle of Quibo.

About Christmas we were got as far as the isle of Juan Fernandez, where
Captain Sharpe was, by general consent, displaced from being commander,
the company being not satisfied either with his courage or behaviour. In
his stead Captain Watling was advanced; but he being killed shortly
after before Arica, where we were repulsed with great loss, we were
without a commander. Off the island of Plata we left Captain Sharpe and
those who were willing to go with him in the ship, and embarked into our
launch and canoes. We were in number forty-four white men who bore arms;
a Spanish Indian, who bore arms also, and two Mosquito Indians, who
always have arms among the privateers, and are much valued by them for
striking fish and turtle, or tortoise, and manatee, or sea-cow; and
five slaves taken in the South Seas, who fell to our share. We sifted
as much flour as we could well carry, and rubbed up twenty or thirty
pounds of chocolate, with sugar to sweeten it; these things and a kettle
the slaves carried on their backs after we landed.

We gave out that if any man faltered in the journey overland he must
expect to be shot to death; for we knew that the Spaniards would soon be
after us, and one man falling into their hands might well be the ruin of
us all. Guided by the Indians, we finished our journey from the South
Sea to the North in twenty-three days.


_II.--Adventures with the Privateers_

It was concluded to go to a town called Coretaga (Cartagena), and march
thence on Panama. I was with Captain Archembo; but his French seamen
were the saddest creatures ever I was among. So, meeting Captain Wright,
who had taken a Spanish tartane (a one-masted vessel) with four
petereroes for stone shot, and some long guns, we that came overland
desired him to fit up his prize and make a man-of-war of her for us.
This he did, and we sailed towards Blewfields River, where we careened
our tartane.

While we lay here our Mosquito men went in their canoe and struck some
sea-cow. This creature is about the bigness of a horse, and ten or
twelve feet long. The mouth of it is much like the mouth of a cow,
having great thick lips. The eyes are no bigger than a small pea; the
ears are only two small holes on the side of the head; the neck is short
and thick, bigger than the head. The biggest part of this creature is at
the shoulders, where it has two large fins, one at each side of its
belly.

A calf that sucks is the most delicate meat; privateers commonly roast
them. The skin of the manatee is of great use to privateers, for they
cut them out into straps, which they make fast on the sides of their
canoes, through which they put their oars in rowing, instead of pegs.
The skin of the bull, or of the back of the cow, they cut into
horsewhips, twisted when green, and then hung to dry.

The Mosquitoes, two in a canoe, have a staff about eight feet long,
almost as big as a man's arm at the great end, where there is a hole to
place the harpoon in. At the other end is a piece of light wood, with a
hole in it, through which the small end of the staff comes; and on this
piece of bob-wood there is a line of ten or twelve fathoms wound neatly
about, the end of the line made fast to it. The other end of the line is
made fast to the harpoon, and the Mosquito man keeps about a fathom of
it loose in his hand.

When he strikes, the harpoon presently comes out of the staff, and as
the manatee swims away the line runs off from the bob; and although at
first both staff and bob may be carried under water, yet as the line
runs off it will rise again. When the creature's strength is spent they
haul it up to the canoe's side, knock it on the head, and tow it ashore.

When we had passed by Cartagena we descried a sail off at sea and chased
her. Captain Wright, who sailed best, came up with her and engaged her;
then Captain Yanky, and they took her before we came up. We lost two or
three men, and had seven or eight wounded. The prize was a ship of
twelve guns and forty men, who had all good small arms; she was laden
with sugar and tobacco, and had eight or ten tons of marmalade on board.
We went to the Isle of Aves, where the Count d'Estrées's whole squadron,
sent to take Curaçoa for the French, had been wrecked. Coming in from
the eastward, the count fell in on the back of the reef, and fired guns
to give warning to the rest. But they, supposing their admiral was
engaged with enemies, crowded all sail and ran ashore after him, for his
light in the maintop was an unhappy beacon. The men had time enough to
get ashore, yet many perished. There were about forty Frenchmen on board
one of the ships, where there was good store of liquor. The afterpart of
her broke away and floated off to sea, with all the men drinking and
singing, who, being in drink, did not mind the danger, but were never
heard of afterwards.

Captain Payne, commander of a privateer of six guns, had a pleasant
accident at this island. He came hither to careen, therefore hauled into
the harbour and unrigged his ship. A Dutch ship of twenty guns seeing a
ship in the harbour, and knowing her to be a French privateer, came
within a mile of her, intending to warp in and take her next day, for it
is very narrow going in. Captain Payne got ashore, and did in a manner
conclude he must be taken; but spied a Dutch sloop turning to get into
the road, and saw her, at the evening, anchor at the west end of the
island. In the night he sent two canoes aboard the sloop, took her, and
went away in her, making a good reprisal, and leaving his own empty ship
to the Dutchman.

While we lay on the Caracas coast we went ashore in some of the bays,
and took seven or eight tons of cacao; and after that three barques, one
laden with hides, the second with European commodities, the third with
earthenware and brandy. With these three barques we went to the island
of Roques, where we shared our commodities. Twenty of us took one of the
vessels, and our share of the goods, and went directly for Virginia,
where we arrived in July 1682.


_III.--On Robinson Crusoe's Island_

I now enter upon the relation of a new voyage, proceeding from Virginia
by the way of Tierra del Fuego and the South Seas, the East Indies, and
so on, till my return to England by way of the Cape of Good Hope. On
August 23, 1683, we sailed from Achamack (Accomack), in Virginia, under
the command of Captain Cook. On February 6 we fell in with the Straits
of Le Maire, and on February 14, being in latitude 57°, and to the west
of Cape Horn, we had a violent storm, which held us till March 3--thick
weather all the time, with small, drizzling rain. The nineteenth day we
saw a ship, and lay muzzled to let her come up with us, for we supposed
her to be a Spanish ship. This proved to be one Captain Eaton, from
London. Both being bound for Juan Fernandez's Isle, we kept company, and
we spared him bread and beef, and he spared us water.

On March 22, 1684, we came in sight of the island, and the next day got
in and anchored. We presently went ashore to seek for a Mosquito Indian
whom we left here when we were chased hence by three Spanish ships in
the year 1681, a little before we went to Africa. This Indian lived here
alone above three years. He was in the woods hunting for goats when
Captain Watling drew off his men, and the ship was under sail before he
came back to shore.

He had with him his gun and a knife, with a small horn of powder and a
few shot. These being spent, he contrived a way, by notching his knife,
to saw the barrel of his gun into small pieces, wherewith he made
harpoons, lances, hooks, and a long knife; heating the pieces first in
the fire, which he struck with his gun-flint, and a piece of the barrel
of his gun, which he hardened, having learnt to do that among the
English. The hot pieces of iron he would hammer out and bend as he
pleased with stones, and saw them with his jagged knife, or grind them
to an edge by long labour, and harden them to a good temper as there was
occasion. With such instruments as he made in that manner he got such
provision as the island afforded, either goats or fish. He told us that
at first he was forced to eat seal, which is very ordinary meat, before
he had made hooks; but afterwards he never killed any seals but to make
lines, cutting their skins into thongs.

He had, half a mile from the sea, a little house or hut, which was lined
with goatskin. His couch, or barbecue of sticks, lying along about two
feet distant from the ground, was spread with the same, as was all his
bedding. He had no clothes left, having worn out all those he brought
from Watling's ship, but only a skin about his waist. He saw our ship
the day before we came to an anchor, and did believe we were English,
and therefore killed three goats in the morning before we came to
anchor, and dressed them with cabbage to treat us when we came ashore.

This island is about twelve leagues round, full of high hills and small,
pleasant valleys, which, if manured, would probably produce anything
proper for the climate. The sides of the mountains are part woodland and
part savannahs, well stocked with wild goats descended from those left
here by Juan Fernandez in his voyage from Lima to Valdivia. Seals swarm
as thick about this island as though they had no other place to live in,
for there is not a bay nor rock that one can get ashore on but is full
of them. They are as big as calves, the head of them like a dog,
therefore called by the Dutch sea-hounds. Here are always thousands--I
might say millions--of them sitting on the bays, or going and coming in
the sea round the island. When they come out of the sea they bleat like
sheep for their young, and though they pass through hundreds of other
young ones before they come to their own, yet they will not suffer any
of them to suck. A blow on the nose soon kills them. Large ships might
here load themselves with sealskins and train-oil, for they are
extraordinary fat.

Our passage lay now along the Pacific Sea. We made the best of our way
towards the line, and fell in with the mainland of South America. The
land is of a most prodigious height. It lies generally in ridges
parallel to the shore, three or four ridges one within another, each
surpassing the other in height. They always appear blue when seen at
sea; sometimes they are obscured with clouds, but not so often as the
high lands in other parts of the world--for there are seldom or never
any rains on these hills, nor are they subject to fogs. These are the
highest mountains that ever I saw, far surpassing the peak of Teneriffe,
or Santa Marta, and, I believe, any mountains in the world.


_IV.--More Buccaneering Exploits_

On May 3 we descried a sail. Captain Eaton, being ahead, soon took her;
she was laden with timber. Near the island of Lobos we chased and caught
three sail, all laden with flour. In the biggest was a letter from the
viceroy of Lima to the president of Panama, assuring him there were
enemies in that sea, for which reason he had despatched this flour, and
desiring him to be frugal of it, for he knew not when he should send
more. In this ship were likewise seven or eight tons of marmalade of
quinces, and a stately mule sent to the president, and a very large
image of the Virgin Mary in wood, carved and painted, to adorn a new
church at Panama. She brought also from Lima 800,000 pieces of eight to
carry with her to Panama; but while she lay at Huanchaco, taking in her
lading of flour, the merchants, hearing of Captain Swan's being at
Valdivia ordered the money ashore again.

On September 20 we came to the island of Plata, so named, as some
report, after Sir Francis Drake took the Cacafuego--a ship chiefly laden
with plate, which they say he brought hither and divided with his men.
Near it we took an Indian village called Manta, but found no sort of
provision, the viceroy having sent orders to all seaports to keep none,
but just to supply themselves. At La Plata arrived Captain Swan, in the
Cygnet, of London. He was fitted out by very eminent merchants of that
city on a design only to trade with Spaniards or Indians; but, meeting
with divers disappointments, and being out of hopes to obtain a trade in
these seas, his men forced him to entertain a company of privateers, who
had come overland under the command of Captain Peter Harris. Captains
Davis and Swan sent our small barque to look for Captain Eaton, the isle
of Plata to be the general rendezvous; and on November 2 we landed 110
men to take the small Spanish seaport town of Payta. The governor of
Piura had come the night before to Payta with a hundred armed men to
oppose our landing, but our men marched directly to the fort and took it
without the loss of one man, whereupon the governor of Piura, with all
his men, and the inhabitants of the town, ran away as fast as they
could. Then our men entered the town, and found it emptied both of money
and goods. There was not so much as a meal of victuals left for them. We
anchored before the town, and stayed till the sixth day in hopes to get
a ransom. Our captains demanded 300 packs of flour, 300 lb. of sugar,
twenty-five jars of wine, and a thousand jars of water, but we got
nothing of it. Therefore Captain Swan ordered the town to be fired.

Once in three years the Spanish Armada comes to Porto Bello, then the
Plate Fleet also from Lima comes hither with the king's treasure, and
abundance of merchant ships, full of goods and plate. With other
privateers we formed the plan, in 1685, of attacking the Armada and
capturing the treasure. On May 28 we saw the Spanish fleet three leagues
from the island of Pacheque--in all fourteen sail, besides periagoes.
Our fleet consisted of but ten sail. Yet we were not discouraged, but
resolved to fight them, for being to windward, we had it in our choice
whether we would fight or not. We bore down right afore the wind upon
our enemies, but night came on without anything besides the exchanging
of a few shot. When it grew dark the Spanish admiral put out a light as
a signal to his fleet to anchor. We saw the light in the admiral's top
about half an hour, and then it was taken down. In a short time after we
saw the light again, and being to windward, we kept under sail,
supposing the light to have been in the admiral's top.

But, as it proved, this was only a stratagem of theirs, for this light
was put out a second time at one of their barques' topmast head, and
then she went to leeward, which deceived us. In the morning, therefore,
contrary to our expectations, we found they had got the weather-gauge
of us, and were coming upon us with full sail. So we ran for it, and
after a running fight all day, were glad to escape. Thus ended this
day's work, and with it all that we had been projecting for four or five
months.

The town of Puebla Nueva was taken with 150 men, and in July, being 640
men in eight sail of ships, we designed to attempt the city of Leon. We
landed 470 men to march to the town, and I was left to guard the canoes
till their return. With eighty men Captain Townley entered the town, and
was briskly charged in a broad street by 170 or 200 Spanish horsemen;
but two or three of their leaders being knocked down, the rest fled. The
Spaniards talked of ransom, but only to gain time to get more men. Our
captains therefore set the city on fire, and came away.


_V.--Home by the East Indies_

Afterwards we steered for the coast of California, and some of us taking
the resolution of going over to the East Indies, we set out from Cape
Corrientes on March 31, 1686. We were two ships in company, Captain
Swan's ship, and a barque commanded under Captain Swan by Captain Tait,
and we were 150 men--100 aboard of the ship, and 50 aboard the barque,
besides slaves. It was very strange that in all the voyage to Guam, in
the Ladrones, we did not see one fish, not so much as a flying fish.

From Guam we went to Mindanao in the Philippines. About this time some
of our men, who were weary and tired with wandering, ran away into the
country. The whole crew were under a general disaffection, and full of
different projects, and all for want of action. One day that Captain
Swan was ashore, a Bristol man named John Reed peeped into his journal
and lighted on a place where Captain Swan had inveighed bitterly against
most of his men. Captain Tait, who had been abused by Captain Swan, laid
hold of this opportunity to be revenged. So we left Captain Swan and
about thirty-six men ashore in the city, and sailed from Mindanao. Among
the Pescadores we had a storm in which the violent wind raised the sea
to a great height; the rain poured down as through a sieve; it thundered
and lightened prodigiously, and the sea seemed all of a fire about us. I
was never in such a violent storm in all my life; so said all the
company. Afterwards we came to Grafton and Monmouth islands, the island
of Celebes, and others.

Being clear of all the islands, we stood off south, and on January 4,
1688, we fell in with the land of New Holland, a part of Terra Australis
Incognita. It is not yet determined whether it is an island or a main
continent, but I am certain that it does not join Asia, Africa, or
America.

We sailed from New Holland to Sumatra and the Nicobar Islands, where,
being anxious to escape from the ship, I desired Captain Reed to set me
ashore. Mr. Robert Hall, and a man named Ambrose, whose surname I have
forgot, were put ashore with me. From the Nicobar people we bought for
an axe a canoe, in which we stowed our chests and clothes, and in this
frail craft we three Englishmen, with four Malays and a mongrel
Portuguese, made our way to Achin. The hardships of this voyage, with
the scorching heat of the sun at our first setting out, and then the
cold rain in a fearful storm, cast us all into fevers. Three days after
our arrival our Portuguese died. What became of our Malays I know not.
Ambrose lived not long after.

In January, 1691, there came to an anchor in Bencouli Road the Defence,
Captain Heath commander, bound for England. On this ship I obtained a
passage to England, where we arrived on September 16, 1691.

CHARLES DARWIN

The Voyage of H.M.S. Beagle


_I.--To the South American Coast_

  The "Journal of Researches into the Natural History and
  Geology of the Countries Visited during the Voyage of
  H.M.S. Beagle Round the World" was Darwin's first popular
  contribution to travel and science. His original journal
  of the part he took in the expedition, as naturalist of
  the surveying ships Adventure and Beagle, was published,
  together with the official narratives of Captains Fitzroy
  and King, a year after the return of the latter vessel to
  England in October, 1836. It was not till 1845 that Darwin
  issued his independent book, of which the following is an
  epitome, written from the notes in his journal. It
  immediately attracted considerable popular and scientific
  attention, and many editions and cheap reprints have been
  issued during the past half century. It is said that
  Darwin at first considered himself more as a collector
  than as a scientific worker; but experience soon brought
  to him the keen enjoyment of the original investigator.
  The most striking feature of the book is the combined
  minuteness and breadth of his observations and
  descriptions. There can be no doubt that it was the
  gathered results of his discoveries, and the study of his
  collected specimens of the zoology, botany, and geology of
  the countries visited; his graphic presentation of their
  physical geography; and their synthetic analysis, which
  laid the foundations of his great generalisations of the
  "Origin of Species." (See SCIENCE.)

After having been twice driven back by heavy south-west gales, H.M.S.
Beagle, a ten-gun brig, under the command of Captain Fitzroy, R.N.,
sailed from Devonport on December 27, 1831. The object of the expedition
was to complete the survey of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, commenced
under Captain King in 1826-30; to survey the shores of Chile, Peru, and
of some of the islands in the Pacific; and to carry a chain of
chronometrical measurements round the world.

On January 16, 1832, we touched at Porto Praya, St. Jago, in the Cape de
Verde archipelago, and sailed thence to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Delight
is a weak term to express the higher feelings of wonder, astonishment,
and devotion which fill the mind of a naturalist in wandering through
the Brazilian tropical forest. The noise from the insects is so loud
that it may be heard at sea several hundred yards from the shore, yet
within the recesses of the forest a universal silence seems to reign.
The wonderful and beautiful flowering parasites invariably struck me as
the most novel object in these grand scenes. Among the cabbage-palms,
waving their elegant heads fifty feet from the ground, were woody
creepers, two feet in circumference, themselves covered by other
creepers.

The humming birds are fond of shady spots, and these little creatures,
with their brilliant plumage, buzzing round the flowers with wings
vibrating so rapidly as scarcely to be visible, seek the tiny insects in
the calyx rather than the fabled honey. Insects are particularly
numerous, the bees excepted. The Beagle was employed surveying the
extreme southern and eastern coasts of America south of the Plata during
the two succeeding years. The almost entire absence of trees in the
pampas of Uruguay, the provinces of Buenos Ayres [now Argentina], and
Patagonia is remarkable.

Fifteen miles from the Rio Negro, the principal river on the whole line
of coast between the Strait of Magellan and the Plata, are several
shallow lakes of brine in winter, which in summer are converted into
fields of snow-white salt two and a half miles long and one broad. The
border of the lakes is formed of mud, which is thrown up by a kind of
worm. How surprising it is that any creature should be able to exist in
brine, and that they should be crawling among crystals of sulphate of
soda and lime!

The valley of the Rio Negro, broad as it is, has merely been excavated
out of the sandstone plain; and everywhere the landscape wears the same
sterile aspect.


_II.--Fossil Monsters of the Pampas_

The pampas are formed from the mud, gravel, and sand thrown up by the
sea during the slow elevation of the land; and the section disclosed at
Punta Alta, a few miles from Bahia Blanca, was interesting from the
number and extraordinary character of the remains of gigantic land
animals embedded in it. I also found remains of immense armadillo-like
animals on the banks of a tributary of the Rio Negro; and, indeed, I
believe that the whole area of the pampas is one wide sepulchre of these
extinct colossal quadrupeds. The following, which I unearthed, are now
deposited in the College of Surgeons, London.

(1) Head and bones of a _megatherium_, the huge dimensions of which are
expressed by its name; (2) the _megalonyx_, a great allied animal; (3)
the perfect skeleton of a _scelidorium_, also an allied animal, as large
as a rhinoceros, in structure like the Cape ant-eater, but in some other
respects approaching the armadilloes; (4) the _mylodon Darwinii_, a
closely related genus, and little inferior in size; (5) another gigantic
dental quadruped; (6) another large animal very like an armadillo; (7)
an extinct kind of horse (it is a marvellous fact in the history of the
mammalia that, in South America, a native horse should have lived and
disappeared, to be succeeded in after ages by the countless herds
descended from the few introduced with the Spanish colonists); (8) a
pachydermatous animal, a huge beast with a long neck like a camel; (9)
the toxodon, perhaps the strangest animal ever discovered; in size it
equalled an elephant, or _megatherium_, but was intimately related to
the Gnawers, the order which at the present day includes most of the
smallest quadrupeds; and judging from the position of the eyes, ears,
and nostrils, it was probably aquatic.

We have good evidence that these gigantic quadrupeds, more different
from those of the present day than the oldest of the Tertiary quadrupeds
of Europe, lived whilst the sea was peopled with most of its present
inhabitants. These animals migrated on land, since submerged, near
Behring's Strait, from Siberia into North America, and thence on land,
since submerged, in the West Indies into South America, where they
mingled with the forms characteristic of that southern continent, and
have since become extinct.

The existing animals of the pampas include the puma, the South American
lion, while the birds are numerous. The largest is the ostrich, which is
found in groups. The ostriches are fleet in pace, prefer running against
the wind, and freely take to the water. At first start they expand their
wings, and, like a vessel, make all sail. Of mammalia, the jaguar, or
South American tiger, is the most formidable. It frequents the wooded
and reedy banks of the great rivers. There are four species of
armadilloes, notable for their smooth, hard, defensive covering. Of
reptiles there are many kinds. One snake, a _trigonocephalus_, has in
some respects the structure of a viper with the habits of a rattlesnake.
The expression of this snake's face is hideous and fierce. I do not
think I ever saw anything more ugly, excepting, perhaps, some of the
viper-bats.


_III.--In the Extreme South_

From the Rio Plata the course of the Beagle was directed to the mouth of
the Santa Cruz river, on the coast of Patagonia. One evening, when we
were about ten miles from the bay of San Blas, vast numbers of
butterflies, in bands and flocks of countless myriads, extended as far
as the eye could range. One dark night, with a fresh breeze, the foam
and every part of the surface of the waves glowed with a pale light. The
vessel drove before her bows two billows of liquid phosphorus, and in
her wake she was followed by a milky train. I am inclined to consider
that the phosphorescence is the result of organic particles, by which
process (one is tempted almost to call it a kind of respiration) the
ocean becomes purified.

The geology of Patagonia is interesting. For hundreds of miles of coast
there is one great deposit composed of shells--a white pumiceous stone
like chalk, including gypsum and _infusoria_. At Port St. Julian it is
eight hundred feet thick, and is capped by a mass of gravel forming
probably one of the largest beds of shingle in the world, extending to
the foot of the Cordilleras. For 1,200 miles from the Rio Plata to
Tierra del Fuego the land has been raised by many hundred feet, and the
uprising movement has been interrupted by at least eight long periods of
rest, during which the sea ate deep back into the land, forming at
successive levels the long lines of cliffs, or escarpments, which
separate the different plains as they rise like steps one behind the
other. What a history of geological change does the simply constructed
coast of Patagonia reveal! In some red mud, capping the gravel, I
discovered fossil bones which showed the wonderful relationship in the
same continent between the dead and the living, and will, I have no
doubt, hereafter throw more light on the appearance of organic beings on
our earth and their disappearance from it than any other class of facts.
Patagonia is sterile, but is possessed of a greater stock of rodents
than any other country in the world. The principal animals are the
llamas, in herds up to 500, and the puma, which, with the condor and
other carrion hawks, preys upon them.

From the Strait of Magellan, the Beagle twice made a compass of the
Falkland Islands, and archipelago in nearly the same latitude. It is a
delicate and wretched land, everywhere covered by a peaty soil and wiry
grass of one monotonous colour. The only native quadruped is a large
wolf-like fox, which will soon be as extinct as the dodo. The birds
embrace enormous numbers of sea-fowl, especially geese and penguins. The
wings of a great logger-headed duck called the "steamer" are too weak
for flight; but, by their aid, partly by swimming, partly flapping, they
move very quickly. Thus we found in South America three birds who use
their wings for other purposes besides flight--the penguins as fins, the
"steamers" as paddles, and the ostrich as sails.

Tierra del Fuego may be described as a mountainous land, separated from
the South American continent by the Strait of Magellan, partly submerged
in the sea, so that deep inlets and bays occupy the place where valleys
should exist. The mountain-sides, except on the exposed western coasts,
are covered from the water's edge upwards to the perpetual snow-line by
one great forest, chiefly of beeches. Viewing the stunted natives on the
west coast, one can hardly conceive that they are fellow-creatures and
inhabitants of the same world; and I believe that in this extreme part
of South America man exists in a lower state of improvement than in any
other part of the globe. The zoology of Tierra del Fuego is very poor.
In the gloomy woods there are few birds, but where flowers grow there
are humming birds, a few parrots and insects, but no reptiles.


_IV.--The Wonders of the Cordilleras_

After encountering many adventures in these Antarctic seas, among which
was a narrow escape from shipwreck in a fierce gale off Cape Horn, and
amidst hitherto unexplored Antarctic islands, the Beagle set a course
northward in the open Pacific for Valparaiso, the chief seaport of
Chile, which was reached on July 23, 1834. Chile is a narrow strip of
land between the Cordilleras and the Pacific, and this strip itself is
traversed by many mountain lines which run parallel to the great range.
Between these outer lines and the main Cordilleras a succession of level
basins, generally opening into each other by narrow passages, extend far
to the southward. These basins, no doubt, are the bottoms of ancient
inlets and deep bays such as at the present day intersect every part of
Tierra del Fuego.

From November, 1834, to March, 1835, the Beagle was employed in
surveying the island of Chiloe and the broken line called the Chonos
Archipelago. This archipelago is covered by one dense forest, resembling
that of Tierra del Fuego, but incomparably more beautiful. There are few
parts of the world within the temperate regions where so much rain
falls. The winds are very boisterous, and the sky almost always clouded.
Fortunately, for once, while we were on the east side of Chiloe the day
rose splendidly clear, and we could see the great range of the Andes on
the mainland with three active volcanoes, each 7,000 feet high.

While at Valdivia, on the mainland, on February 20, 1835, the worst
earthquake ever recorded in Chile occurred, and it was followed for
twelve days by no less than 300 tremblings. A bad earthquake at once
destroys our oldest associations; the earth, the very emblem of
solidity, has moved beneath our feet like a thin crust over a fluid. One
second of time has created in the mind a strange idea of insecurity
which hours of reflection would not have produced. The most remarkable
effect was the permanent elevation of the land round the Bay of
Concepcion by several feet. The convulsion was more effectual in
lessening the size of the island of Quiriquina off the coast than the
ordinary wear and tear of the sea and weather during the course of a
whole century; but on the other hand, on the Island of St. Maria putrid
mussel-shells, still adhering to the rocks, were found ten feet above
high-water mark. Near Juan Fernandez Island a volcano uprose from under
the water close to the shore, and at the same instant two volcanoes in
the far-off Cordilleras bust forth into action.

The space from which volcanic matter was actually erupted is 720 miles
in one line and 400 miles in another line at right-angles from the
first; hence, in all probability, a subterranean lake of lava is here
stretched out of nearly double the area of the Black Sea. The frequent
quakings of the earth on this line of coast are caused, I believe, by
the rending of the strata, necessarily consequent on the tension of the
land when upraised, and their injection by fluidified rock. This rending
and injection would, if repeated often enough, form a chain of hills.

I made the passage of the Cordilleras to Mendoza, the capital of the
republic of that name, on horseback. The features in the scenery of the
Andes which struck me most were that all the main valleys have on both
sides a fringe, sometimes expanding into a narrow plain of shingle and
sand. I am convinced that these shingle terraces were accumulated during
the gradual elevation of the Cordilleras by the torrents delivering at
successive levels their detritus on the beach-heads of long, narrow arms
of the sea, first high up the valleys, then lower down and lower down as
the land slowly rose.

If this be so, and I cannot doubt it, the grand and broken chain of the
Cordilleras, instead of having been suddenly thrown up--as was till
lately the universal, and still is the common, opinion of
geologists--has been slowly upheaved in mass in the same gradual manner
as the coasts of the Atlantic and Pacific have arisen within the recent
period. The other striking features of the Cordilleras were the bright
colours, chiefly red and purple, of the utterly bare and precipitous
hills of porphyry; the grand and continuous wall-like dikes; the plainly
divided strata, which, where nearly vertical, formed the picturesque and
wild central pinnacles, but where less inclined composed the great
massive mountains on the outskirts of the range; and lastly, the smooth,
conical piles of fine and brightly-coloured detritus, which slope up
sometimes to a height of more than 2,000 feet.

It is an old story, but not less wonderful, to see shells which were
once crawling at the bottom of the sea now standing nearly 14,000 feet
above its level. But there must have been a subsidence of several
thousand feet as well as the ensuing elevation. Daily it is forced home
on the mind of the geologist that nothing, not even the wind that blows,
is so unstable as the level of the crust of the earth.

From Valparaiso to Coquimbo, and thence to Copiapo, in Northern Chile,
the country is singularly broken and barren. On some of the terraced
plains rising to the Cordilleras, covered with cacti, there were large
herds of llamas. At one point in the coast range great prostrate
silicified trunks of fir trees were very numerous, embedded in a
conglomerate. I discovered convincing proof that this part of the
continent of South America has been elevated near the coast from 400
feet to 1,300 feet since the epoch of existing shells; and further
inland the rise possibly may have been greater. From the evidence of
ruins of Indian villages at very great altitude, now absolutely barren,
and some fossil human relics, man must have inhabited South America for
an immensely long period.

From the port of Iquique, in Peru, a visit was made across the desert to
the nitrate of soda mines. The nitrate stratum, between two and three
feet thick, lies close to the surface, and follows for 150 miles the
margin of the plain. From the troubled state of the country, I saw very
little of the rest of Peru.

A month was spent in the Galapagos Archipelago--a group of volcanic
islands situated on the Equator between 500 and 600 miles westward of
the coast of America. The little archipelago is a little world within
itself. Hence, both in time and space, we seemed to be brought somewhere
near to that great fact, that mystery of mysteries, the first appearance
of new beings on this earth. The vegetation is scanty. The principal
animals are the giant tortoises, so large that it requires six or eight
men to lift one. The most remarkable feature of the natural history of
this archipelago is that the different islands are inhabited by
different kinds of tortoises; and so with the birds, insects, and
plants. One is astonished at the amount of creative force, if such an
expression may be used, displayed on these small, barren, and rocky
islands, and still more so at its diverse, yet analogous, action on
points so near each other.


_V.--The Coral Islands of the Indian Ocean_

Having completed the survey of the coasts and islands of the South
American continent, the Beagle sailed across the wide Pacific to Tahiti,
New Zealand, and Australia, in order to carry out the chain of
chronometrical measurements round the world. From Australasia a run was
then made for Keeling or Cocos Island in the Indian Ocean. This lonely
island, 600 miles from the coast of Sumatra, is an atoll, or lagoon
island. The land is entirely composed of fragments of coral.

There is, to my mind, much grandeur in the view of the outer shores of
these lagoon islands. The ocean, throwing its waters over the broad
barrier-like reef, appears an invincible, all-powerful enemy. Yet these
low, insignificant coral islets stand and are victorious; for here
another power, as an antagonist, takes part in the contest. Organic
forces separate the atoms of carbonate of lime, one by one, from the
foaming breakers, and unite them in a symmetrical structure. Let the
hurricane tear up its thousand huge fragments, yet what will that tell
against the accumulated labour of myriads of architects at work night
and day, month after month?

There are three great classes of coral reefs--atoll, barrier, and
fringing. Now, the utmost depth at which corals can construct reefs is
between twenty and thirty fathoms, so that wherever there is an atoll a
foundation must have originally existed within a depth of from twenty to
thirty fathoms from the surface. The coral formation is raised only to
that height to which the waves can throw up fragments and the winds pile
up sand. The foundation, such as a mountain peak, therefore, must have
sunk to the required level, and not have been raised, as has hitherto
been generally supposed.

I venture, therefore, to affirm that, on the theory of the upward growth
of the corals during the sinking of the land, all the leading features
of those wonderful structures, the lagoon-islands or atolls, as well as
the no less wonderful barrier-reefs, whether encircling small islands,
or stretching for hundreds of miles along the shores of a continent, are
simply explained. On the other hand, coasts merely fringed by reefs
cannot have subsided to any perceptible amount, and therefore they must,
since the growth of their corals, either have remained stationary or
have been upheaved.

The chronometrical measurements were completed in the Indian Ocean by a
visit to Mauritius, and thence, voyaging around the Cape of Good Hope,
to the islands of St. Helena and Ascension, in the Southern Atlantic,
and to the mainland of Brazil at Bahia and Pernambuco, from which the
course was set for home. The Beagle made the shores of England at
Falmouth on October 2, 1836, after an absence of nearly five years.

On a retrospect, among the scenes which are deeply impressed on my mind,
including the spectacles of the Southern Cross, the Cloud of Magellan,
and the other constellations of the Southern Hemisphere, the glacier
leading its blue stream of ice overhanging the sea in a bold precipice,
the lagoon-islands raised by the reef-building corals, the active
volcano, the overwhelming effects of a violent earthquake--none exceed
in sublimity the primeval forests undefaced by the hand of man, whether
those of Brazil, where the powers of Life are predominant, or those of
Tierra del Fuego, where Death and Decay prevail. Both are temples filled
with the varied productions of the God of nature. No one can stand in
those solitudes unmoved and not feel that there is more in man than the
mere breath of his body. And so with the boundless plains of Patagonia,
or when looking from the highest crest of the Cordilleras, the mind is
filled with the stupendous dimensions of the surrounding masses.




FELIX DUBOIS

Timbuctoo the Mysterious


_I.--From Paris to the Niger_

  Felix Dubois has a considerable reputation in France and
  on the European Continent generally as an African
  explorer. His sphere of travel has been confined to the
  Dark Continent north of the Equator. He first published in
  1894 "Life on the Black Continent," but his reputation
  rests mainly on "Timbuctoo the Mysterious," issued in
  1897, of which two English translations have appeared.
  Dubois' style is vivacious and picturesque, with a vein of
  poetic feeling in some passages. His "Early History of
  Northern Africa and Timbuctoo," of the architecture of
  which he has made a special study, is lucid; but in
  discussing the extension of the British and French spheres
  of influence and protectorates during the past century he
  betrays a certain measure of Gallic Anglophobia.

Having fallen asleep in a railway carriage on your departure from Paris,
you awake six weeks later on a canoe-barge upon the Niger. The steamer
lands you at the entrance to the Senegal, in a country which has
belonged to France for centuries. The port of Senegal is Dakar, the
finest harbour on the west coast of Africa, and from thence there is a
railway to St. Louis. For eight days you travel up the Senegal river in
a steamer to Kayes, the port and actual capital of the Sudan; and a
narrow-gauge railway carries you from the Senegal to the Niger at
Dioubaba.

This town is situated in the heart of lovely mountain and river scenery.
The Bakoy river here breaks into a rocky waterfall, some hundreds of
yards in length, full of rapids and foaming currents. The horizon is
bordered by mountain-tops, and the river banks are covered by gigantic
trees festooned with garlands of long creepers. The road from Dioubaba
to Bammaku cuts, from east to west, the massive Foota Jallon range that
separates the basin of the Senegal from that of the Niger, and is so
abundantly watered that you fall asleep every night to the sound of some
gurgling cascade.

It was not without a certain amount of emotion that I approached the
great Niger. After days and days of travel a narrow path widens
suddenly, and its rocky sides fall right and left, like the leaves of a
door. A vast horizon lies at my feet, bathed in the splendours of a
tropical sunset; and down there, in a plain of gold and green and red,
shines a silver trail bordered by a line of darkness.

The Niger, with its vast and misty horizons, is more like an inland
ocean than a river. I engaged for my voyage up-stream a boat which was a
whimsical mixture of a European barge and an aboriginal canoe, in which
a thatched hollow served me amidships as bedroom, dining-room, study,
and dressing-room. A small folding bedstead was the only piece of
furniture. The crew consisted of Bosos, the true sailors of the Niger,
of whose skill, patient endurance, and loyalty I had full experience.
Alone among them, travelling through an imperfectly conquered, sometimes
openly hostile country, never once did I feel that my safety was in any
way threatened.

Coming to Lake Debo, a fief of the Niger, we enter a sea of grass.
Paddling being no longer possible, my Bosos crew, leaning heavily upon
bamboo poles, push the boat vigorously through the grass, which, parting
in front, closes together behind us with loud rustling and crackling. We
are no longer upon the water, but seem to be sliding under a tropical
sun over grassy steppes streaked with watery paths. These Bosos, living
at a distance of nearly 900 miles from the coast, possess no idea of the
sea, and the question of what becomes of the mighty Niger beyond the
regions they know troubles them very little. One unusually intelligent
Bosos, when asked what became of the river beyond the towns which he
knew, or had heard of, down the Niger, said, "Beyond them? Oh, beyond
them the fishes swallow it."


_II.--The Valley of the Niger_

The country lying to the south of Timbuctoo, which is on the threshold
of the great Sahara desert, is the Sudan, otherwise called the Valley
and the Buckler of the Niger. It is a vast region traversed to an extent
of nearly 2,500 miles by one of the largest rivers in the world. This
river rises in the Kouranko chain of mountains, and is really formed by
two streams, the Paliko and the Tembi, which unite at a place called
Laya. The more important of these is the Tembi, and the wood from which
it springs is reputed sacred, and is the subject of innumerable legends
and superstitions. Access to it is denied to the profane by the high
priests and lesser priests, who represent the diety to mortals. The
neighbouring kinglets refer to them before undertaking a war, or other
act of importance, and the common herd consult them on all occasions of
weight. The spirit of the spring, being eminently practical, will only
condescend to attend to them through the medium of sacrifice, but the
ceremonies are not very ferocious, merely oxen being offered, and not
human victims, as in the neighbouring Dahomey.

The region of the source of the Niger is the land of heavy rainfall, and
the slopes of the mountain ranges are channelled by innumerable
cascades, rivulets, brooks, and rivers that carry off the heavenly
overflow. These countries of the Upper Niger are radiant. Tropical
vegetation spreads over them with the utmost prodigality. The river
flings itself headlong over the entire low-lying region between
Biafaraba and Timbuctoo, covering it and swamping it, until a steppe of
barren sand becomes one of the most fertile spots in the universe. The
Niger is to the Sudan what the Nile is to Egypt; but we find there not
one delta, as in Egypt, but three. Thus a most complete system of
irrigation is formed, and fertility is spread over thousands of square
miles. The rise and fall of the waters is as regular as that of the
Nile, and an infinitely greater distance is covered.

Bammaku is an important strategic centre, from which it is easy to send
reinforcements to any part of the Sudan that may be momentarily
threatened. This precaution is wise, for we do not really know how far
we are masters of this splendid country, which is many times larger than
France, and contains from ten to fifteen millions of people. There are
only 600 Europeans, including officers and other officials, and 4,000
negroes are enrolled as foot-soldiers, cavalry, and transport bearers,
while it requires an army of 40,000 men to maintain order in Algeria,
about a fourth of the size of the Sudan.

Apart from the fertility of the soil for cereal crops, there are three
kinds of trees which grow abundantly everywhere. The most interesting is
the karita, or butter-tree, from the nuts of which a vegetable butter is
extracted with all the delectable flavour of chocolate. Throughout the
whole of the Sudan no other fatty substance is used. The second tree is
the flour tree. The flour is enclosed in large pods, is of a yellow
colour, rich in sugar, and is used in the manufacture of pastry and
confectionery. The third is the cheese-tree, called _baga_ by the
natives, from the capsules of which a fine and brilliant vegetable silk
is yielded. The principal articles of commerce sent by Bammaku to
Timbuctoo are the products of these trees, gold, and kola-nuts.

In the voyage up the river beyond Bammaku we passed the districts in
which the principal towns are Nyamina, Sansanding, and Segu, in which
are the large cotton-fields, from the produce of which the beautiful
fabrics known as _pagnes de Segu_ are made, which are in great request
in Senegal and the markets of Timbuctoo. Near Segu is an establishment
known as the School of Hostages, instituted by the explorer Faidherbe
for the education of the sons of kings and chiefs of Senegambia, to
enable them to take part in home government, or to enter the civil and
military services of Senegal and Sudan.


_III.--The Jewel of the Niger Valley_

Jenne is the jewel of the valley of the Niger. A vast plain, infinitely
flat. In the midst of this a circle of water, and within it reared a
long mass of high and regular walls, erected on mounds as high, and
nearly as steep, as themselves. When I climbed the banks from my boat
and entered the walls, I was completely bewildered by the novelty and
strangeness of the town's interior. Regular streets; wide, straight
roads; well-built houses of two stories instantly arrested the eye. But
the buildings had nothing in common with Arabic architecture. The style
was not Byzantine, Roman, or Greek; still less was it Gothic or Western.
It was in the ruins of the lifeless towns of ancient Egypt, in the
valley of the Nile, that I had witnessed this art before. Arrived at
Jenne, the traveller finds himself face to face with an entirely new
ethnographical entity--_viz._, the Songhois.

They themselves invariably told me that they came originally from the
Yemen to Egypt on the invitation of a Pharaoh, and settled at Kokia, in
the valley of the Nile, whence they spread westward to the Niger in the
middle of the seventh century. They built Jenne in 765, made it the
market of their country, and founded the Songhois Empire, which, under
three distinct dynasties, lasted for a thousand years.

In the sixteenth century a marvellous civilisation appeared in the very
heart of the Black Continent. The prosperity of the Sudan, and its
wealth and commerce, were known far and wide. Caravans returning to the
coast proclaimed its splendours in their camel-loads of gold, ivory,
hides, musk, and the spoils of the ostrich. So many attractions did not
fail to rouse the cupidity of neighbouring territories, chief among them
being Morocco. El Mansour, sultan of Morocco, invaded the Sudan in 1590,
and in a few years the fall of the Songhois Empire was complete. Two
elements of confusion established themselves, and augmented the general
anarchy--_viz._, the Touaregs and the Foulbes, the former coming from
the great desert of Sahara, and the latter from the west. Both were
pastoral nomads. A petty Foulbe chief, of the country of Noukouna, named
Ahmadou, spread a report that he was of the family of the Prophet, and
for the next eighty years the Sudan was given over to fire and sword by
a succession of rulers who massacred and pillaged in the name of God.
Jenne happily escaped serious ruin, because of its situation on an
island at the junction of two tributaries of the Niger.

The houses of Jenne are built on the simple lines of Egyptian
architecture, with splendid bricks made from clay procured near the
town. The grand mosque was long famous in the valley of the Niger, and
was considered more beautiful than the Kaabah of Mecca itself. It lasted
eighteen centuries, and would have lasted many centuries longer if
Ahmadou, the Foulbe conquerer, had not commanded its destruction in
1830. Jenne in the middle ages not only ranked above Timbuctoo as a
city, but took a place among the great commercial centres of Islam.
Jenne taught the Sudanese the art of commercial navigation, and her
fleets penetrated beyond Timbuctoo and the Kong country. Regular lines
of flyboats even now carry merchandise and passengers at a fixed tariff,
and for a consideration of two and a half francs you can go to
Timbuctoo, a twenty days' journey, and for three francs can send thither
a hundredweight of goods. The characteristics of the people are
sympathy, kindness, and generosity.

Here trades are specialised. Conformably with, and contrary to, Arab
usage, it is the men who weave the textiles, and not the women. The
latter do the spinning and the dyeing. Masonry is man's work--in negro
countries it is the women who build the houses--and in the blacksmith's
and other trades the craft descends from father to son.


_IV.--Timbuctoo, Queen of the Sudan_

The day of my departure from Jenne was occupied in receiving farewell
visits from scores of friends, who first believed me a harmless lunatic
as "the man with the questions," and then received me with affection.
From Jenne to Timbuctoo we journeyed by boat for 311 miles in a
labyrinth of meandering tributaries, creeks, and channels along the
course of the Niger, and reached at last the Pool of Dai, whose waters
appear under the walls of Timbuctoo itself; and then, a few miles
further on, we arrived at Kabara, the landing-place and port of
Timbuctoo.

Two things arrest attention on disembarking--the sand and the Touaregs.
The sand, because you have no sooner set your foot on shore than you
flounder about in it as if it were a mire; and it pursues you
everywhere--in the country, in the streets, and in the houses. The
Touaregs are impressed on you because, though you never see them,
everything recalls them. The town is in ruins, but its wretchedness is
overpowered by life and movement. The quays are astir with lively
bustle, and encumbered with bales, jars, and sacks in the process of
unloading. To travel from Kabara to Timbuctoo, only five miles distant,
there is a daily convoy--medley of people, donkeys and camels, attended
by twenty _tirailleurs_ with rifles on their shoulders.

An immense and vivid sky, and an immense and brilliant stretch of land,
with the grand outlines of a town uniting the two. A dark silhouette,
large and long, an image of grandness in immensity--thus appeared the
Queen of the Sudan. She is indeed the city of imagination, the Timbuctoo
of legends. Her sandy approaches are strewn with bones and carcasses
that have been disinterred by wild beasts, the remains of the camels and
other animals that have fallen and died in the last stages of the
journey.

The illusion of walls, produced by the distinctness with which the town
stands out from the white sand, disappears, and three towers at regular
intervals dominate the mass. The terraces of square houses are now
distinguishable, renewing the first impression of grandeur in immensity.
We enter the town, and behold! all the grandeur has suddenly
disappeared, though the scene is equally impressive on account of its
tragic character rather than its beauty. And this is the great
Timbuctoo, the metropolis of the Sudan and the Sahara, with its boasted
wealth and commerce! This is Timbuctoo the holy, the learned, that life
of the Niger, of which it was written, "We shall one day correct the
texts of our Greek and Latin classics by the manuscripts which are
preserved there." These ruins, this rubbish, this wreck of a town, is
this the secret of Timbuctoo the Mysterious? It is a city of
deliquescence.

Jenne had the vein of Egyptian civilisation; the origin of Timbuctoo has
to be sought in a different direction, for her past is connected with
the Arabian civilisation of Northern Africa--the world of the Berbers
and all those white people whom we have known under the name of Touaregs
in the Sahara, Kabyles in Algeria, Moors in Morocco and Senegal, and
Foulbes in their infiltrations into the Sudan, who had been crowded back
into the interior by the invasions of Phoenician and Roman colonists. So
also, when the Moors were driven out of Spain back to Morocco, to find
their ancient patrimony in the hands of Arabs, they were forced to
prolong their exodus into the south, and became nomads about the great
lakes on the left bank of the Niger, in the neighbourhood of Oualata and
Timbuctoo, carrying with them the name of Andalusians, which they bear
to the present day.

Touareg is a generic name for a large number of tribes descended from
the Berbers. Being driven into the desert, to the terrible glare of
which they were not accustomed, nor their lungs to its sandstorms, they
adopted the head-dress of two veils. Being perpetually kept on the
march, every social and political organisation disappeared, and they
gradually lost all notion of law and order. Like the Jews, and all other
people thrown out of their natural paths, their souls and brains became
steeped in vice. Their nomadic life reduced them to the level of
vagabonds, thieves, and brigands, and the only law they recognised was
the right of the strongest. Travellers and merchants were their
principal victims, and when these failed, they robbed and killed each
other.

They adopted a vague form of Islamism which they reduced to a belief in
talismans, and the Sudanese bestowed upon them three epithets which
epitomise their psychology--"Thieves, Hyenas, and the Abandoned of God."
Yet it was to these people that Timbuctoo owed its origin, for it was
there that they established a permanent camp. It was under the dominion
of Askia the Great, who drove the Touaregs out of the city, that
Timbuctoo became the great and learned city whose fame spread even to
Europe, and its apogee was reached in 1494-1591.

The decadence of the city began with the Moorish conquest in the latter
year, and it became the scene of repeated incursions by various
tribes--Touaregs, Foulbes, Roumas. Under the hands of a thousand tyrants
the inhabitants were robbed, ill-treated, and killed on the least
provocation. To avoid being pillaged in the open street, and seeing
their houses despoiled, they adopted a new manner of living. They
transformed their garments and dwellings, and ceasing to be Timbuctoo
the Great, they became Timbuctoo the Mysterious. By these means the town
acquired a tumble-down and battered appearance. Timbuctoo is the meeting
place, says an old Sudanese chronicle, of all who travel by camel or
canoe. The camel represents the commerce of Sahara and the whole of
Northern Africa, while the canoe represents the trade of the Sudan and
Nigeria.

A great part of the trade is in rock-salt, derived from the mines of
Taoudenni, near Timbuctoo. Large caravans from Morocco, Algeria, Tunis,
and Tripoli, numbering from 600 to 1,000 camels, and from three to five
hundred men, arrive from December to January, and from July to August.
Their freight represents from six hundred thousand to a million francs'
worth of goods. Smaller caravans of sixty or a hundred camels arrive all
the year round, and between fifty and sixty thousand camels encamp
annually in the caravan suburb before the northern walls of the city.
The city is simply a temporary depot, and the permanent population are
merely brokers and contractors, or landlords of houses which are let to
travelling merchants. The chief manufacturing industry of the city is
exquisite embroidered robes, which cost from three to four thousand
francs each, and are principally exported to Morocco.

An ancient Sudanese proverb says, "Salt comes from the north, gold from
the south, and silver from the country of the white men, but the word of
God and the treasures of wisdom are only to be found in Timbuctoo." It
would be an exaggeration to put the university in the mosque of Sankoré
on a level with those of Egypt, Morocco, or Syria, but it was the great
intellectual nucleus of the Sudan, and also one of the great scientific
centres of Islam itself. Her collection of ancient manuscripts leaves us
in no doubt upon the point. There is an entire class of the population
devoted to the study of letters. They are called Marabuts, or Sheikhs,
and from them doctors, priests, schoolmasters, and jurists are drawn.


_V.--The Romance of the Modern Conquest_

The prosperity of the French Sudan is so closely connected with that of
its principal market that if the general anarchy had been prolonged in
Timbuctoo all the sacrifices of human life and money France had made on
her threshold would have remained sterile. The French Government decided
that the sooner an end was put to the ruinous dominion of the Touaregs
the better it would be. Up to the last moment England endeavoured to put
her hand upon the commerce of Timbuctoo. Failing in her efforts from
Tripoli and the Niger's mouth, she attempted to secure a footing by way
of Morocco, and was installed towards 1890 at Cape Juby. It was then too
late. French columns and posts had been slowly advanced by the Senegal
route, and in 1893 Jenne was captured.

In the following year a flotilla of gunboats was dispatched while two
columns of troops followed up to anticipate any concentration of nomad
Touaregs, which might prevent the occupation of the Mysterious City.
From the flotilla a detachment of nineteen men was landed. Of these only
seven were Europeans, the remainder being Senegalese negroes. They had
two machine guns with them, and, under the command of a naval
lieutenant, Boiteux by name, they marched to the walls of Timbuctoo, and
demanded that the rulers of the city should surrender it, and that they
should sign a treaty of peace placing the country under the protectorate
of France. The city was occupied, temporary fortlets were run up, and
the nineteen mariners held them till January 10, 1894, when the first of
the two of the French columns entered the town. Twenty-five days later
the second column arrived.

The French occupation of Timbuctoo the Mysterious was complete, and Cape
Juby was evacuated by England. Two large forts have now replaced the
improvised fortifications, and their guns command every side of the
town. Under their protection the inhabitants are reviving. The long
nightmare of the Touaregs is being slowly dispelled. Houses are being
repaired and rebuilt; the occupants leave their doors ajar, and resume
their beautifully embroidered robes; and one can picture the city
becoming a centre of European civilisation and science as it was
formerly of Mussulman culture.




RICHARD HAKLUYT

The Principall Navigations


_I.--Of the Book and Why it was Made_

  Richard Hakluyt, born about 1552 in Herefordshire,
  England, was educated at Westminster and Christ Church,
  Oxford, and became in 1590 rector of Wetheringsett, in
  Suffolk, where he compiled and arranged "The Principall
  Navigations, Voyages, Traffikes, and Discoveries of the
  English Nation to the Remote Quarters of the Earth at any
  Time within the Compass of these 1600 Years." He grew to
  manhood in the midst of the most stirring period of travel
  and discovery that England has known. Under Elizabeth,
  English sailors and English travellers were penetrating
  beyond the dim borders of the known world, and almost
  every returning ship brought back fresh news of strange
  lands. "Richard Hakluyt, Preacher," tells how his interest
  was attracted towards this subject of travel and
  exploration which he made his own. He published other
  records of travel, but it is through the "Principall
  Navigations" that his name has been perpetuated. Hakluyt
  died on November 23, 1616.

I do remember that being a youth, and one of her Majestie's scholars at
Westminster, that fruitfull nurserie, it was my happe to visit the
chamber of Master Richard Hakluyt, my cousin, a gentleman of the Middle
Temple, at a time when I found lying open upon his borde certeine bookes
of cosmographie, with an universall mappe; he seeing me somewhat curious
in the view thereof, began to instruct my ignorance, by showing me the
division of the earth into three parts, after the old account, and then,
according to the latter and better distribution, into more. He pointed
out with his wand to all the known seas, gulfs, bayes, streights, capes,
rivers, empires, kingdoms, dukedoms, and territories of each part, with
declaration also of their speciall commodities, and particular wants,
which by the benefit of traffike, and intercourse of merchants, are
plentifully supplied.

From the mappe he brought me to the Bible, and turning to the 107th
Psalme, directed me to the 23rd and 24th verses, where I read that "they
which go downe to the sea in ships, and occupy by the great waters, they
see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deepe," etc.

Which words of the prophet together with my cousin's discourse (things
of high and rare delight to my young nature), tooke in me so deepe an
impression that I constantly resolved, if ever I were preferred to the
university, where better time, and more convenient place might be
ministered for these studies, I would, by God's assistance, prosecute
that knowledge and kinde of literature, the doores whereof were so
happily opened before me.

According to which my resolution when, not long after, I was removed to
Christ Church in Oxford, my exercises of duty first performed, I fell to
my intended course, and by degrees read over whatsoever printed or
written discoveries and voyages I found extant, either in the Greeke,
Latine, Italian, Spanish, Portugall, French, or English languages. In
continuance of time I grew familiarly acquainted with the chiefest
captaines at sea, the gretest merchants, and the best mariners of our
nation, by which means having gotten somewhat more than common
knowledge.

I passed at length the narrow seas into France. There I both heard in
speech and read in books other nations miraculously extolled for their
discoveries and notable enterprises by sea, but the English, of all
others, for their sluggish security and continuall neglect of the like
attempts, either ignominiously reported or exceedingly condemned. Thus,
both hearing and reading the obluquie of our nation, and finding few or
none of our owne men able to replie heerin, and further, not seeing any
man to have care to recommend to the world the industrious labors and
painefull travels of our countrymen, myselfe returned from France,
determined to undertake the burden of that worke, wherein all others
pretended either ignorance or lacke of leasure, whereas the huge toile,
and the small profit to insue, were the chiefe causes of the refusall.

I calle the worke a burden, in consideration that these voyages lay so
dispersed and hidden in severall hucksters' hands that I now wonder at
myselfe to see how I was able to endure the delays, curiosity, and
backwardnesse of many from whom I was to receive my originals. And thus,
friendly reader, thou seest the briefe summe and scope of my labours for
the commonwealth's sake, and thy sake, bestowed upon this work, which
may, I pray, bring thee no little profit.


_II.--The Victories of King Arthur in Foreign Lands_

Arthur, which was sometimes the most renowned king of the Britaines, was
a mightie and valiant man, and a famous warriour. This kingdome was too
little for him, and his minde was not contented with it. He therefore
valiantly subdued all Scantia, which is now called Norway, and islands
beyond Norway, to wit, Island and Greenland, Sweueland, Ireland,
Gotland, Denmarke, and all the other lands and islands of the East Sea,
even into Russia, and many others islands beyond Norway, even under the
North Pole, which are appendances of Scantia, now called Norway. These
people were wild and savage, and held not in them the love of God nor of
their neighbours, because all evill cometh from the North; yet there
were among them certeine Christians living in secret. But King Arthur
was an exceeding good Christian, and caused them to be baptised and
thorowout all Norway to worship one God, and to receive and keepe
inviolably for ever faith in Christ onely.

At that time, all the noble men of Norway tooke wives of the noble
nation of the Britaines, whereupon the Norses say that they are
descended of the race and blood of this kingdome. The aforesaid King
Arthur obteined also, in those days of the Pope and court of Rome, that
Norway should be for ever annexed to the crown of Britaine for the
inlargement of this kingdome, and he called it the chamber of Britaine.
For this cause the Norses say that they ought to dwell with us in this
kingdome--to wit, that they belong to the crowne of Britaine; for they
had rather dwell here than in their owne native countrey, which is drie
and full of mountaines, and barren, and no graine growing there, but in
certain places. But this countrey of Britaine is fruitfull, wherein
corne and all other good things do grow and increase, for which cause
many cruell battles have been often-times fought betwixt the Englishmen
and the people of Norway, and infinite numbers of people have been
slaine, and the Norses have possessed many lands and islands of this
Empire, which unto this day they doe possess, neither could they ever
afterwards be fully expelled.


_III.--How Martin Frobisher Sought a Passage to Cathaya by the
North-West_

It appeareth that not onely the middle zone but also the zones about the
Poles are habitable. Which thing, being well considered, and familiarly
knowen to our generall, Captaine Frobisher, as well for that he is
thorowly furnished of the knowledge of the sphere and all other skilles
appertaining to the arte of navigation, as also for the confirmation he
hath of the same by many yeares experience, both by sea and land, and
being persuaded of a new and nerer passage to Cathaya than by Capo di
Buona Sperança; he began first with himself to devise, and then with his
friends to conferre, and declared unto them that that voyage was not
onely possible by the North-west, but he could prove easie to be
performed.

And, further, he determined and resolved with himselfe to go make full
proofe thereof, and to accomplish or bring true certificate of the
truth, or else never to return againe, knowing this to be the onely
thing of the world that was left yet undone, whereby a notable minde
might be made famous and fortunate. But, although his will were great to
performe this notable voyage, yet he wanted altogether meanes and
ability to set forward, and performe the same. He layed open to many
great estates and learned men the plot and summe of his device. And so,
by litle and litle, with no small expense and paine, he brought his
cause to some perfection, and had drawen together so many adventurers
and such summes of money as might well defray a reasonable charge to
furnish himselfe to sea withall.

He prepared two small barks of twenty and five and twenty tunne apiece,
wherein he intended to accomplish his pretended voyage. Wherefore, being
furnished with the aforesayd two barks, and one small pinnesse of ten
tun burthen, having therein victuals and other necessaries for twelve
months provision, he departed upon the sayd voyage from Blacke-wall the
fifteenth of June, _Anno Domini_, 1576. One of the barks wherein he went
was named the Gabriel, and the other the Michael, and, sailing northwest
from England upon the eleventh of July he had sight of an high and
ragged land which he judged to be Frisland, but durst not approch the
same, by reason of the great store of ice that lay alongst the coast,
and the great mists that troubled them not a litle. Not farre from
thence he lost company of his small pinnesse, which by meanes of a great
storme he supposed to be swallowed up of the sea, wherein he lost onely
foure men. Also the other barke, named the Michael, mistrusting the
matter, conveyed themselves privily away from him, and returned home,
with great report that he was cast away.

The worthy captaine, notwithstanding these discomforts, although his
mast was sprung, and his toppe mast blowen overboord with extreame foul
weather, continued his course towards the north-west, knowing that the
sea at length must needs have an ending, and that some land should have
a beginning that way; and determined, therefore, at the least to bring
true proofe what land and sea the same might be so farre to the
north-westwards, beyond any man that had heretofore discovered. And the
twentieth of July he had sight of an high land which he called Queen
Elizabeth's Forland, after her majestie's name, and sailing more
northerly alongst that coast, he descried another forland with a great
gut, baye, or passage, divided as it were two maine lands or continents
asunder.

He determined to make proofe of this place, to see how farre that gut
had continuance, and whether he might carry himself thorow the same into
some open sea on the backe side, whereof he conceived no small hope, and
so entered the same the one and twentieth of July, and passed above
fifty leagues therein as he reported, having upon either hand a great
maine, or continent. And that land upon his right hand as he sailed
westward he judged to be the continent of Asia, and there to be divided
from the firme of America, which lieth upon the left hand over against
the same. This place he named after his name, Frobisher's Streights.

After our captaine, Martin Frobisher, had passed sixty leagues into this
foresayed streight, he went ashore, and found signes where fire had bene
made.

He saw mighty deere that seemed to be mankinde, which ranne at him, and
hardly he escaped with his life in a narrow way where he was faine to
use defence and policy to save his life. In this place he saw and
perceived sundry tokens of the peoples resorting thither. And, being
ashore upon the top of a hill, he perceived a number of small things
fleeting in the sea afarre off, which he supposed to be porposes or
seales, or some kinde of strange fish; but, coming neerer, he
discovered them to be men in small boats made of leather. And, before
he could descend downe from the hill, certeine of those people had
almost cut off his boat from him, having stolen secretly behinde the
rocks for that purpose, when he speedily hasted to his boat, and bent
himselfe to his halberd, and narrowly escaped the danger, and saved his
boat.

Afterwards, he had sundry conferences with them, and they came aboord
his ship, and brought him salmon and raw flesh and fish, and greedily
devoured the same before our men's faces.

After great courtesie, and many meetings, our mariners, contrary to
their captaine's direction, began more easily to trust them, and five of
our men, going ashore, were by them intercepted with their boat, and
were never since heard of to this day againe, so that the captaine,
being destitute of boat, barke, and all company, had scarsely sufficient
number to conduct back his barke againe. He could not now convey
himselfe ashore to rescue his men--if he had been able--for want of a
boat; and againe the subtile traitours were so wary, as they would after
that never come within our men's danger.

The captaine notwithstanding, desirous to bring some token from thence
of his being there, was greatly discontented that he had not before
apprehended some of them; and, therefore, to deceive the deceivers he
wrought a prety policy, for, knowing wel how they greatly delited in our
toyes, and specially in belles, he rang a pretty lowbel, making signes
that he would give him the same that would come and fetch it. And to
make them more greedy of the matter he rang a louder bel, so that in the
end one of them came nere the ship side to receive the bel; which when
he thought to take at the captaine's hand he was thereby taken himselfe;
for the captaine, being readily provided, let the bel fall and caught
the man fast, and plucked him with main force, boat and all, into his
barke out of the sea. Whereupon, when he found himself in captivity,
for very choler and disdaine he bit his tongue in twain within his
mouth; notwithstanding, he died not thereof, but lived until he came in
England, and then he died of cold.

Nor with this new pray (which was a sufficient witnesse of the
captaine's farre and tedious travell towards the unknowen parts of the
world, as did well appeare by this strange infidell, whose like was
never seene, read, nor heard of before, and whose language was neither
knowen nor understood of any), the sayd Captaine Frobisher returned
homeward, and arrived in England in Harwich, the second of October
following, and thence came to London, 1576, where he was highly
commended by all men for his notable attempt, but specially for the
great hope he brought of the passage to Cathaya.


_IV.--The Valiant Fight of the Content against some Spanish Ships_

Three ships of Sir George Carey made a notable fight against certaine
Spanish galleys in the West Indies, and this is the relation of it.

The 13th of June, 1591, being Sunday, at five of the clock in the
morning we descried six saile of the King of Spain, his ships. We met
with them off the Cape de Corrientes, which standeth on the Island of
Cuba. The sight of the foresayd ships made us joyfull, hoping that they
should make our voyage. But as soon as they descryed us they made false
fires one to another, and gathered their fleet together. We, therefore,
at six of the clock in the morning, having made our prayers to Almighty
God, prepared ourselves for the fight. We in the Content bare up with
their vice-admiral, and (ranging along by his broadside aweather of him)
gave him a volley of muskets and our great ordinance; then, coming up
with another small ship ahead of the former, we hailed her in such sort
that she payd roome.

Thus being in fight with the little ship, we saw a great smoke come from
our admiral, and the Hopewel and Swallow, forsaking him with all the
sailes they could make; whereupon, bearing up with our admiral (before
we could come to him) we had both the small ships to windward of us,
purposing (if we had not bene too hotte for them) to have layd us
aboord.

Thus we were forced to stand to the northwards, the Hopewel and the
Swallow not coming in all this while to ayde us, as they might easily
have done. Two of their great ships and one of their small followed us.
They having a loom gale (we being altogether becalmed) with both their
great ships came up faire by us, shot at us, and on the sudden furled
their sprit sailes and mainsailes, thinking that we could not escape
them. Then falling to prayer, we shipped our oars that we might rowe to
shore, and anker in shallow water, where their great ships could not
come nie us, for other refuge we had none.

Then one of their small ships being manned from one of their great, and
having a boat to rowe themselves in, shipped her oars likewise, and
rowed after us, thinking with their small shot to have put us from our
oars until the great ships might come up with us; but by the time she
was within musket shot, the Lord of His mercie did send us a faire gale
of wind at the north-west, off the shore, what time we stood to the
east.

Afterward (commending our selves to Almightie God in prayer, and giving
him thankes for the winde which he had sent us for our deliverance) we
looked forth, and descryed two saile more to the offen; these we thought
to have bene the Hopewel and the Swallow that had stoode in to ayde us;
but it proved farre otherwise, for they were two of the king's gallies.

Then one of them came up, and (hayling of us whence our shippe was) a
Portugall which we had with us, made them answere, that we were of the
fleete of Terra Firma, and of Sivil; with that they bid us amaine
English dogs, and came upon our quarter star-boord, and giving us five
cast pieces out of her prowe they sought to lay us aboord; but we so
galled them with our muskets that we put them from our quarter. Then
they winding their gallie, came up into our sterne, and with the way
that the gallie had, did so violently thrust into the boorde of our
captaine's cabbin, that her nose came into its minding to give us all
their prowe and so to sinke us. But we, being resolute, so plyed them
with our small shot that they could have no time to discharge their
great ordnance; and when they began to approch we heeved into them a
ball of fire, and by that meanes put them off; whereupon they once again
fell asterne of us, and gave us a prowe.

Then, having the second time put them off, we went to prayer, and sang
the first part of the 25th Psalme, praysing God for our safe
deliverance. This being done, we might see two gallies and a frigat, all
three of them bending themselves together to encounter us; whereupon we
(eftsoones commending our estate into the hands of God) armed ourselves,
and resolved (for the honour of God, her majestie, and our countrey) to
fight it out till the last man.

Then, shaking a pike of fire in defiance of the enemie, and weaving them
amaine, we bad them come aboord; and an Englishman in the gallie made
answer that they would come aboord presently. Our fight continued with
the ships and with the gallies from seven of the clocke in the morning
till eleven at night.

Howbeit God (which never faileth them that put their trust in Him) sent
us a gale of winde about two of the clocke in the morning, at
east-north-east, which was for the preventing of their crueltie and the
saving of our lives. The next day being the fourteenth of June in the
morning, we sawe all our adversaries to lee-ward of us; and they,
espying us, chased us till ten of the clocke; and then, seeing they
could not prevaile, gave us over.

Thus we give God most humble thankes for our safe deliverance from the
cruell enemie, which hath beene more mightie by the Providence of God
than any tongue can expresse; to whom bee all praise, honour, and glory,
both now and ever, Amen.




A. W. KINGLAKE

Eothen


_I.--Through Servia to Constantinople_

  Alexander William Kinglake, born near Taunton, England,
  Aug. 5, 1809, was the eldest son of William Kinglake,
  banker and solicitor, of Taunton. He was educated at Eton
  and Cambridge, where he was a friend of Tennyson and
  Thackeray. In 1835 he made the Eastern tour described in
  "Eothen [Greek, 'from the dawn'], or Traces of Travel
  Brought Home from the East," which was twice re-written
  before it appeared in 1844. It is more a record of
  personal impressions of the countries visited than an
  ordinary book of travel, and is distinguished for its
  refined style and delightful humour. Kinglake accompanied
  St. Arnaud and his army in the campaign which resulted in
  the conquest of Algiers for France. In 1854 he went to the
  Crimea with the British troops, met Lord Raglan, and
  stayed with the British commander until the opening of the
  siege of Sebastopol. At the request of Lady Raglan he
  wrote the famous history of the "Invasion of the Crimea,"
  which appeared at intervals between 1863 and 1887. He died
  on January 2, 1891.

At Semlin I was still encompassed by the scenes and sounds of familiar
life, yet whenever I chose to look southward I saw the Ottoman
fortress--austere, and darkly impending high over the vale of the
Danube--historic Belgrade. I had come to the end of wheel-going Europe,
and now my eyes would see the splendour and havoc of the East. We
managed the work of departure from Semlin with nearly as much solemnity
as if we had been departing this life. The plague was supposed to be
raging in the Ottoman Empire, and we were asked by our Semlin friends if
we were perfectly certain that we had wound up all our affairs in
Christendom.

We soon reached the southern bank in our row-boat, and were met by an
invitation from the pasha to pay him a visit. In the course of an
interesting interview, conducted with Oriental imagery by our dragoman,
we informed the pasha that we were obliged for his hospitality and the
horses he had promised for our journey to Constantinople, whereupon the
pasha, standing up on his divan, said, "Proud are the sires and blessed
are the dams of the horses that shall carry your excellency to the end
of your prosperous journey."

Our party, consisting of my companion, Methley, our personal servants,
interpreter, and escort, started from Belgrade, as usual, hours after
the arranged time, and night had closed in as we entered the great
Servian forest through which our road lay for more than a hundred miles.
When we came out of the forest our road lay through scenes like those of
an English park. There are few countries less infested by "lions in the
path," in the shape of historic monuments, and therefore there were no
perils. The only robbers we saw anything of had been long since dead and
gone.

The poor fellows had been impaled upon high poles, and so propped up by
the transverse spokes beneath them that their skeletons, clothed with
some white, wax-like remains of flesh, still sat up lolling in the
sunshine, and listlessly stared without eyes. After a fifteen days'
journey we crossed the Golden Horn, and found shelter in Stamboul.

All the while I stayed at Constantinople the plague was prevailing. Its
presence lent a mysterious and exciting, though not very pleasant,
interest to my first knowledge of a great Oriental city. Europeans,
during the prevalence of the plague, if they are forced to enter into
the streets, will carefully avoid the touch of every human being they
pass. The Moslem stalks on serenely, as though he were under the eye of
his God, and were "equal to either fate."

In a steep street or a narrow alley you meet one of those coffin-shaped
bundles of white linen which implies an Ottoman lady. She suddenly
withdraws the yashmak, shines upon your heart and soul with all the pomp
and might of her beauty. This dazzles your brain; she sees and exults;
then with a sudden movement she lays her blushing fingers upon your arm
and cries out, "Yumourdjak!" (plague), meaning, "There is a present of
the plague for you." This is her notion of a witticism.


_II.--The Troad, Smyrna, and Cyprus_

While my companion, Methley, was recovering from illness contracted
during our progress to Constantinople, I studied Turkish, and sated my
eyes with the pomps of the city and its crowded waters. When capable of
travelling, we determined to go to Troad together. Away from our people
and our horses, we went loitering along the plains of Troy by the
willowy banks of a stream which I could see was finding itself new
channels from year to year, and flowed no longer in its ancient track.
But I knew that the springs which fed it were high in Ida--the springs
of Simois and Scamander. Methley reminded me that Homer himself had
warned us of some such changes. The Greeks, in beginning their wall, had
neglected the hecatombs due to the gods, and so, after the fall of Troy,
Apollo turned the paths of the rivers that flow from Ida, and sent them
flooding over the wall till all the beach was smooth and free from the
unhallowed works of the Greeks.

After a journey of some days, we reached Smyrna, from which place
private affairs obliged Methley to return to England. Smyrna may be
called the chief town of the Greek race, against which you will be
cautioned so carefully as soon as you touch the Levant. For myself, I
love the race, in spite of their vices and their meannesses. I remember
the blood that is in them. I sailed from Smyrna in the Amphitrite--a
Greek brigantine which was confidently said to be bound for the coast of
Smyrna. I knew enough of Greek navigation to be sure that our vessel
should touch at many an isle before I set foot upon the Syrian coast. My
patience was extremely useful to me, for the cruise altogether endured
some forty days. We touched at Cyprus, whither the ship ran for shelter
in half a gale of wind. A Greek of Limasol who hoisted his flag as
English Vice-Consul insisted upon my accepting his hospitality. The
family party went off very well. The mamma was shy at first, but she
veiled the awkwardness she felt by affecting to scold her children, who
had all of them immortal names. Every instant I was delighted by some
such phrases as these: "Themistocles, my love, don't fight,"
"Alcibiades, can't you sit still?" "Socrates, put down the cup!" "Oh,
fie! Aspasia, don't be naughty!"

The heathenish longing to visit the scene where for Pallas Athene "the
hundred altars glowed with Arabian incense, and breathed with the
fragrance of garlands ever fresh," found disenchantment when I spent the
night in the cabin of a Greek priest--not a priest of the goddess, but
of the Greek church--where there was but one room for man, priest, and
beast. A few days after, our brigantine sailed for Beyrout.

At Beyrout I soon discovered that the standing topic of interest was the
Lady Hester Stanhope, who lived in an old convent on the Lebanon range
at a distance of a day's journey from the town, and was acknowledged as
an inspired being by the people of the mountains, and as more than a
prophet.

I visited Lady Hester in her dwelling-place, a broad, grey mass of
irregular buildings on the summit of one of the many low hills of
Lebanon. I was received by her ladyship's doctor, and apartments were
set apart for myself and my party. After dinner the doctor conducted me
to Miladi's chamber, where the lady prophetess received me standing up
to the full of her majestic height, perfectly still and motionless until
I had taken my appointed place, when she resumed her seat on a common
European sofa.

Her ladyship addressed to me some inquiries respecting my family; and
then the spirit of the prophetess kindled within her, and for hours and
hours this wondrous white woman poured forth her speech, for the most
part concerning sacred and profane mysteries. Now and again she adverted
to the period when she exercised astonishing sway and authority over the
wandering Bedouin tribes in the desert which lies between Damascus and
Palmyra.

Lady Hester talked to me long and earnestly on the subject of religion,
announcing that the Messiah was yet to come. She strived to impress me
with the vanity and falseness of all European creeds, as well as with a
sense of her own spiritual greatness. Throughout her conversation upon
these high topics, she skilfully insinuated, without actually asserting,
her heavenly rank.


_III.--Nazareth, Jordan, and the Dead Sea_

I crossed the plain of Esdraelon, and entered amongst the hills of
beautiful Galilee. It was at sunset that my path brought me sharply
round into the gorge of a little valley, and close upon a grey mass of
dwellings that lay happily nestled in the lap of the mountain. It was
Christian Nazareth.

Within the precincts of the Latin convent, in which I was quartered,
there stands a great Catholic church, which encloses the sanctuary--the
dwelling of the Blessed Virgin. This is a grotto, forming a little
chapel, to which you descend by steps.

The attending friar led me down, all but silently, to the Virgin's home.
Religion and gracious custom commanded me that I fall down loyally and
kiss the rock that blessed Mary pressed. With a half-consciousness, a
semblance of a thrilling hope that I was plunging deep into my first
knowledge of some most holy mystery, or of some new, rapturous, and
daring sin, I knelt and bowed down my face till I met the smooth rock
with my lips.

One moment--my heart, or some old pagan demon within me, woke up, and
fiercely bounded--my bosom was lifted and swam as though I had touched
her warm robe. One moment--one more, and then--the fever had left me. I
rose from my knees. I felt hopelessly sane. The mere world reappeared.
My good old monk was there, dangling his keys with listless patience;
and as he guided me from the church, and talked of the refectory and the
coming repast, I listened to his words with some attention and pleasure.

Having engaged a young Nazarene as guide to Jerusalem, our party passed
by Cana, and the house in which the water had been turned into wine, and
came to the field in which our Saviour had rebuked the Scotch
Sabbath-keepers of that period by suffering His disciples to pluck corn
on the Sabbath day.

I rode over the ground on which the fainting multitude had been fed, and
was shown some massive fragments--relics, I was told, of that wondrous
banquet, now turned into stone. The petrifaction was most complete. I
ascended the heights on which our Lord was standing when He wrought the
miracle, and looked away eagerly eastward. There lay the Sea of Galilee,
less stern than Wastwater, less fair than gentle Windermere, but still
with the winning ways of an English lake. My mind, however, flew away
from the historical associations of the place, and I thought of the
mysterious desert which stretched from these grey hills to the gates of
Bagdad.

I went on to Tiberias, and soon got afloat upon the water. In the
evening I took up my quarters in the Catholic church. Tiberias is one of
the four holy cities, the others being Jerusalem, Hebron, and Safet;
and, according to the Talmud, it is from Tiberias, or its immediate
neighbourhood, that the Messiah is to arise. Except at Jerusalem, never
think of attempting to sleep in a "holy city."

After leaving Tiberias, we rode for some hours along the right bank of
the Jordan till we came to an old Roman bridge which crossed the river.
My Nazarene guide, riding ahead of the party, led on over the bridge. I
knew that the true road to Jerusalem must be mainly by the right bank,
but I supposed that my guide had crossed the bridge in order to avoid
some bend in the river, and that he knew of a ford lower down by which
we should regain the western bank. For two days we wandered, unable to
find a ford across the swollen river, and at last the guide fell on his
knees and confessed that he knew nothing of the country. Thrown upon my
own resources, I concluded that the Dead Sea must be near, and in the
afternoon I first caught sight of those waters of death which stretched
deeply into the southern desert. Before me and all around as far as the
eye could follow, blank hills piled high over hills, pale, yellow, and
naked, walled up in her tomb for ever the dead and damned of Gomorrah.

The water is perfectly bright and clear, its taste detestable. My steps
were reluctantly turned towards the north. On the west there flowed the
impassable Jordan, on the east stood an endless range of barren
mountains, on the south lay the desert sea. Suddenly there broke upon my
ear the ludicrous bray of a living donkey. I followed the direction of
the sound, and in a hollow came upon an Arab encampment. Through my Arab
interpreter an arrangement was come to with the sheikh to carry my party
and baggage in safety to the other bank of the river on condition that I
should give him and his tribe a "teskeri," or written certificate of
their good conduct, and some baksheish.

The passage was accomplished by means of a raft formed of inflated skins
and small boughs cut from the banks of the river, and guided by Arabs
swimming alongside. The horses and mules were thrown into the water and
forced to swim over. We camped on the right side of the river for the
night, and the Arabs were made most savagely happy by the tobacco with
which I supplied them, and they spent the whole night in one smoking
festival. I parted upon very good terms from this tribe, and in three
hours gained Rihah, a village said to occupy the ancient site of
Jericho. Some hours after sunset I reached the convent of Santa Saba.


_IV.--Jerusalem and Bethlehem_

The enthusiasm that had glowed, or seemed to glow, within me for one
blessed moment when I knelt by the shrine of the Blessed Virgin at
Nazareth was not rekindled at Jerusalem. In the stead of the solemn
gloom, and a deep stillness which by right belonged to the Holy City,
there was the hum and the bustle of active life. It was the "height of
the season." The Easter ceremonies drew near, and pilgrims were flocking
in from all quarters. The space fronting the church of the Holy
Sepulchre becomes a kind of bazaar. I have never seen elsewhere in Asia
so much commercial animation. When I entered the church I found a babel
of worshippers. Greek, Roman, and Armenian priests were performing their
different rites in various nooks, and crowds of disciples were rushing
about in all directions--some laughing and talking, some begging, but
most of them going about in a regular, methodical way to kiss the
sanctified spots, speak the appointed syllables, and lay down their
accustomed coins. They seemed to be not "working out," but "transacting"
the great business of salvation.

The Holy Sepulchre is under the roof of this great church. It is a
handsome tomb of oblong form, partly subterranean. You descend into the
interior by a few steps, and there find an altar with burning tapers.
When you have seen enough of it you feel, perhaps, weary of the busy
crowd, and ask your dragoman whether there will be time before sunset to
procure horses and take a ride to Mount Calvary.

"Mount Calvary, signor! It is upstairs--on the first floor!" In effect
you ascend just thirteen steps, and then are shown the now golden
sockets in which the crosses of our Lord and the two thieves were fixed.

The village of Bethlehem lies prettily couched on the slope of a hill.
The sanctuary is a subterranean grotto, and is committed to the joint
guardianship of the Romans, Greeks, and Armenians, who vie with each
other in adorning it. Beneath an altar gorgeously decorated, and lit
with everlasting fires, there stands the low slab of stone which marked
the holy site of the Nativity, and near to this is a hollow scooped out
of the living rock. Here the infant Jesus was laid. Near the spot of the
Nativity is the rock against which the Blessed Virgin was leaning when
she presented her babe to the adoring shepherds.


_V.--To Cairo and the Pyramids_

Gaza is upon the edge of the desert, to which it stands in the same
relation as a seaport to the sea. It is there that you charter your
camels, "the ships of the desert," and lay in your stores for the
voyage. The agreement with the desert Arabs includes a safe conduct
through their country as well as the hire of the camels. On the ninth
day, without startling incident, I arrived at the capital of Egypt.

Cairo and the plague! During the whole time of my stay, the plague was
so master of the city, and showed himself so staringly in every street
and alley, that I can't now affect to dissociate the two ideas. I was
the only European traveller in Cairo, and was provided with a house by
one Osman Effendi, whose history was curious. He was a Scotchman born,
and landed in Egypt as a drummer-boy with Mackenzie Fraser's force,
taken prisoner, and offered the alternative of death or the Koran.

He did not choose death, and followed the orthodox standard of the
Prophet in fierce campaigns against the Wahabees. Returning to Cairo in
triumph from his Holy Wars, Osman began to flourish in the world,
acquired property, and became effendi, or gentleman, giving pledge of
his sincere alienation from Christianity by keeping a couple of wives.
The strangest feature in Osman's character was his inextinguishable
nationality. In his house he had three shelves of books, and the books
were thoroughbred Scotch! He afterwards died of the plague, of which
visitation one-half of the whole people of the city, 200,000 in number,
were carried off. I took it into my pleasant head that the plague might
be providential or epidemic, but was not contagious, and therefore I
determined that it should not alter my habits in any one respect. I
hired a donkey, and saw all that was to be seen in the city in the way
of public buildings--one handsome mosque, which had been built by a
wealthy Hindoostanee merchant, and the citadel. From the platform of the
latter there is a superb view of the town. But your eyes are drawn
westward over the Nile, till they rest upon the massive enormities of
the Ghizeh pyramids. At length the great difficulty which I had in
procuring beasts for my departure was overcome, and with two dromedaries
and three camels I and my servants gladly wound our way from out the
pest-stricken city.

Of course, I went to see and explore the pyramids of Ghizeh, Aboucir,
and Sakkara, which I need not describe. Near the pyramids, more wondrous
and more awful than all else in the land of Egypt, there sits the
lonely sphinx. Upon ancient dynasties of Ethiopian and Egyptian kings,
upon conquerors, down through all the ages till to-day, this unworldly
sphinx has watched like a Providence with the same earnest eyes, and the
same sad, tranquil mien. And we shall die, and Islam will wither away,
and the Englishman, leaning far over to hold his loved India, will plant
a firm foot on the banks of the Nile and sit in the seats of the
faithful, and still that sleepless rock will lie watching and watching
the works of the new, busy race with those same sad, earnest eyes, the
same tranquil mien everlasting.

I accomplished the journey to Suez after an exciting adventure in the
desert. There are two opinions as to the point at which the Israelites
passed the Red Sea. One is that they traversed only the very small creek
at the northern extremity of the inlet, and that they entered the bed of
the water at the spot on which Suez now stands. The other is that they
crossed the sea from a point eighteen miles down the coast.

From Suez I crossed the desert once more to Gaza, and thence to Nablous
and Safet--beautiful on its craggy height. Thereafter, for a part of two
days, I wound under the base of the snow-crowned Djibel El Sheik, and
then entered upon a vast plain. Before evening came there were straining
eyes that saw, and joyful voices that announced, the sight of the holy,
blessed Damascus. This earthly paradise of the Prophet is a city of
hidden palaces, of copses and gardens, fountains and bubbling streams.

The path by which I crossed the Lebanon is like that of the Foorca in
the Bernese Oberland, and from the white shoulder of the mountain I saw
the breadth of all Syria west of the range. I descended, passing the
group of cedars which is held sacred by the Greek Church. They occupy
three or four acres on the mountain-side, and many of them are gnarled
in a way that implies great age; but I saw nothing in their appearance
that tended to prove them contemporaries of the cedars employed in
Solomon's temple. Beyrout was reached without further adventure, and my
eastern travel practically ended.




AUSTEN HENRY LAYARD

Nineveh and Its Remains


_I.--Mosul and its Hidden Mysteries_

  Sir Austen Henry Layard, the most famous of all Oriental
  archæological explorers and discoverers, was born in
  Paris, on March 5, 1817, and died on July 5, 1894.
  Intended for the English legal profession, but contracting
  a dislike to the prospect, he determined to make himself
  familiar with the romantic regions of the Near East, and
  travelled in all parts of the Turkish and Persian Empires,
  and through several districts of Arabia. The desire came
  upon him to investigate the mysterious mounds on the great
  plains of the Tigris and the Euphrates, and he began that
  series of excavations which resulted in the most
  sensational discoveries of modern times, for he unearthed
  the remains of the long-buried city of Nineveh. With the
  marvellous, massive, and sublime sculptures of winged,
  human-headed bulls and lions, and eagle-headed deities, he
  enriched the galleries of the British Museum, England thus
  becoming possessed of the finest collection of the kind in
  the world. Layard's two volumes, "Nineveh and Its Remains"
  (1848) and "Monuments of Nineveh" (1850), are unique
  records of special enterprise and skill.

During the autumn of 1839 and winter of 1840, I had been wandering
through Asia Minor and Syria, scarcely leaving untrod one spot hallowed
by tradition, or unvisited one spot consecrated by history. I was
accompanied by one no less curious and enthusiastic than myself--Edward
Ledwich Mitford, afterwards engaged in the civil service in Ceylon. We
were both equally careless of comfort and unmindful of danger. We rode
alone; our arms were our only protection; and we tended our own horses,
except when relieved from the duty by the hospitable inhabitants of a
Turcoman village or an Arab tent.

We left Aleppo on March 18, took the road through Bir and Orfa, and,
traversing the low country at the foot of the Kurdish hills, reached
Mosul on April 10.

During a short stay in the town we visited the great ruins on the east
bank of the river which have been generally believed to be the remains
of Nineveh. We rode into the desert and explored the mound of Kalah
Shergat, a vast, shapeless mass, covered with grass, with remains of
ancient walls laid open where the winter rains had formed ravines.

A few fragments of ancient pottery and inscribed bricks proved that it
owed its construction to the people who had founded the city of which
the mounds of Nimroud are the remains. These huge mounds of Assyria made
a deeper impression upon me than the temples of Baalbec and the theatres
of Ionia. My curiosity had been greatly excited, and I formed the design
of thoroughly examining, whenever it might be in my power, the ruins of
Nimroud.

It was not till the summer of 1842 that I again passed through Mosul on
my way to Constantinople. I found that M. Botta had, since my first
visit, commenced excavations on the opposite side of the Tigris in the
large mound of Kouyunjik, and in the village of Khorsabad. To him is due
the honour of having found the first Assyrian monument. He uncovered an
edifice belonging to the age preceding the conquests of Alexander. This
was a marvellous and epoch-making discovery.

My first step on reaching Mosul was to present my letters to Mohammed
Pasha, governor of the province. His appearance matched his temper and
conduct, and thus was not prepossessing. Nature had placed hypocrisy
beyond his reach. He had one eye and one ear, was short and fat, deeply
marked by small-pox, and uncouth in gestures and harsh in voice. At the
time of my arrival the population was in despair at his exactions and
cruelties.

The appearance of a stranger led to hopes, and reports were whispered
about the town that I was the bearer of the news of the disgrace of the
tyrant. But his vengeance speedily fell on the principal inhabitants,
for such as had hitherto escaped his rapacity were seized and stripped
of their property, on the plea that they had spread reports detrimental
to his authority.

Such was the pasha to whom I was introduced two days after my arrival by
the British Vice-Consul, M. Rassam. I understood that my plans must be
kept secret, though I was ready to put them into operation. I knew that
from the authorities and people of the town I could only look for the
most decided opposition. On November 8, having secretly procured a few
tools, I engaged a mason at the moment of my departure, and carrying
with me a variety of guns, spears, and other formidable weapons,
declared that I was going to hunt wild boars in a neighbouring village,
and floated down the Tigris on a small raft, accompanied by Mr. Ross, a
British merchant then residing at Mosul, my cavass, and a servant.

At this time of year nearly seven hours are required to descend the
Tigris, from Mosul to Nimroud. It was sunset before we reached the Awai,
or dam across the river. We landed and walked to a small hamlet called
Naifa. We had entered a heap of ruins, but were welcomed by an Arab
family crouching round a heap of half-extinguished embers. The
half-naked children and women retreated into a corner of the hut. The
man, clad in ample cloak and white turban, being able to speak a little
Turkish, and being active and intelligent, seemed likely to be of use to
me.

I acquainted him with the object of my journey, offering him regular
employment in the event of the experiment proving successful, and
assigning him fixed wages as superintendent of the workmen. He
volunteered to walk, in the middle of the night, to Selamiyah, a village
three miles distant, and to some Arab tents in the neighbourhood, to
procure men to assist in the excavations. I slept little during the
night. Hopes long cherished were now to be realised, or were to end in
disappointment.

Visions of palaces under ground, of gigantic monsters, or sculptured
figures, and endless inscriptions floated before me. In the morning I
was roused and informed that six workmen had been secured. Twenty
minutes' walk brought us to the principal mound. Broken pottery and
fragments of brick, inscribed with cuneiform characters, were strewn on
all sides. With joy I found the fragment of a bas-relief. Convinced that
sculptured remains must still exist in some parts of the mound, I sought
for a place where excavations might be commenced with some prospects of
success. Awad led me to a piece of alabaster which appeared above the
soil. We could not remove it, and on digging downward it proved to be
the upper part of a large slab. I ordered the men to work around it, and
shortly we uncovered a second slab.

One after another, thirteen slabs came to light, the whole forming a
square, with a slab missing at one corner. We had found a chamber, and
the gap was at its entrance. I now dug down the face of one of the
stones, and a cuneiform inscription was soon exposed to view. Leaving
half the workmen to remove the rubbish from the chamber, I led the rest
to the south-west corner of the mound, where I had observed many
fragments of calcined alabaster.

A trench, opened in the side of the mound, brought me almost immediately
to a wall, bearing inscriptions in the same character. Next day, five
more workmen having joined, before evening the work of the first party
was completed, and I found myself in a room panelled with slabs about
eight feet high, and varying from six to four feet in breadth.

Some objects of ivory, on which were traces of gold leaf had been found
by Awad in the ruins, and these I told him to keep, much to his
surprise. But word had already been sent to the pasha of all details of
my doings. When I called on him he pretended at first to be ignorant of
the excavations, but presently, as if to convict me of prevarication in
my answers to his questions as to the amount of treasure discovered,
pulled out of his writing-tray a scrap of paper in which was an almost
invisible particle of gold leaf. This, he said, had been brought to him
by the commander of the irregular troops at Selamiyah, who had been
watching my proceedings.

I suggested that he should name an agent to be present as long as I
worked at Nimroud, to take charge of all the precious metals that might
be discovered. He promised to write on the subject to the chief of the
irregulars, but offered no objection to the continuation of my
researches. I returned to Nimroud on the 19th, increased my workmen to
thirty, and divided them into three parties. The excavations were
actively carried on, and an entrance, or doorway, leading into the
interior of the mound, being cleared, rich results soon rewarded our
efforts. In a chamber that the Arabs unearthed were found two slabs on
which were splendid bas-reliefs, depicting on each a battle scene. In
the upper part of the largest were represented two chariots, each drawn
by richly caparisoned horses at full speed, and containing a group of
three warriors, the principal of which was beardless and evidently a
eunuch, grasping a bow at full stretch.


_II.--"They have Found Nimrod Himself!"_

Mohammed Pasha was deposed, and on my return to Mosul, in the beginning
of January, I found Ismail Pasha installed in the government. My fresh
experiments among the ruins speedily led to the discoveries of
extraordinary bas-reliefs. The most perfect of these represented a king,
distinguished by his high, conical tiara, raising his extended right
hand and resting his left on a bow. At his feet crouched a warrior,
probably a captive or rebel. A eunuch held a fly-flapper over the head
of the king, who appeared to be talking with an officer standing in
front of him, probably his vizir or minister.

The digging of two long trenches led to the discovery of two more walls
with sculptures not well preserved. I abandoned this part of the mound
and resumed excavations in the north-west ruins near the chamber first
opened, where the slabs were uninjured. In two days the workmen reached
the top of an entire slab, standing in its original position. In a few
hours the earth was completely removed, and there stood to view, to my
great satisfaction, two colossal human figures, carved in low relief and
in admirable preservation.

The figures were back to back, and from the shoulders of each sprang two
wings. They appeared to represent divinities, presiding over seasons.
One carried a fallow deer on his right arm, and in his left a branch
bearing five flowers. The other held a square vessel or basket in the
left hand, and an object resembling a fir cone in his right.

On the morning following these discoveries some of the Arab workmen came
towards me in the utmost excitement, exclaiming: "Hasten to the diggers,
for they have found Nimrod himself! Wallah! it is wonderful, but we have
seen him with our own eyes. There is no God but God." On reaching the
trench I found unearthed an enormous human head sculptured out of the
alabaster of the country.

They had uncovered the upper part of a figure, the remainder of which
was still buried in the earth. I saw at once that the head must belong
to a winged bull or lion, similar to those at Khorsabad and Persepolis.
It was in admirable preservation. I was not surprised that the Arabs had
been amazed and terrified at this apparition. They declared that this
was one of the giants whom Noah cursed before the flood, and was not
the work of men's hands at all. By the end of March I unearthed several
other such colossal figures. They were about twelve feet high and twelve
feet long.

I used to contemplate for hours these mysterious emblems, and muse over
their intent and history. What more noble forms could have ushered the
people into the temples of their gods? They formed the avenue to the
portals. For twenty-five centuries they had been hidden from the eye of
man, and now they stood forth once more in their ancient majesty.


_III.--Unearthing the Palaces of Assyria_

As the discoveries proceeded in several successive seasons, they threw
vivid light on the manners and customs of the Assyrians. My working
parties were distributed over the mound, in the ruins of the north-west
and south-west palaces; near the gigantic bulls in the centre, and in
the south-east corner, where no traces of buildings had as yet been
discovered.

I was anxious to pack some of the slabs, which were of the highest
interest, to England. They represented the wars of the king and his
victories over foreign nations. Above him was the emblem of the supreme
deity, represented, as at Persepolis, by a winged man within a circle,
and wearing a horned cap resembling that of the human-headed lions. Like
the king, he was shooting an arrow, the head of which was in the form of
a trident.

Four bas-reliefs, representing a battle, were especially illustrative of
Assyrian customs. A eunuch is seen commanding in war, as we have before
seen him ministering to the king at religious ceremonies, or waiting on
him as his arms-bearer during peace. Judging from the slabs, cavalry
must have formed a large and important portion of the Assyrian armies.

The lower series of bas-reliefs contained three subjects: the siege of a
castle, the king receiving prisoners, and the king with his army
crossing a river. To the castle, the besiegers had brought a
battering-ram, which two warriors were seeking to hold in its place by
hooks, this part of the bas-relief illustrating the account in the Book
of Chronicles and in Josephus of the machine for battering walls,
instruments to cast stones, and grappling-irons made by Uzziah.

A cargo of sculptures had already been sent to England for the British
Museum, and by the middle of December a second was ready to be
dispatched on the river to Baghdad.

When the excavations were recommenced after Christmas eight chambers had
been discovered. There were now so many outlets and entrances that I had
no trouble in finding new chambers, one leading into another. By the end
of April I had uncovered almost the whole building, and had opened
twenty-eight halls and rooms cased with alabaster slabs.

The colossal figure of a woman with four wings, carrying a garland, now
in the British Museum, was discovered in a chamber on the south side of
the palace, as was also the fine bas-relief of the king leaning on a
wand, one of the best-preserved and most highly finished specimens of
Assyrian sculpture in the national collection.

In the centre of the palace was a great hall, or rather court, for it
had probably been without a roof and open to the air, with entrances on
the four sides, each formed by colossal human-headed lions and bulls. To
the south of this hall was a cluster of small chambers, opening into
each other. At the entrance to one of them were two winged human figures
wearing garlands, and carrying a wild goat and an ear of corn.

In another chamber were discovered a number of beautiful ivory
ornaments, now in the British Museum. On two slabs, forming an entrance
to a small chamber in this part of the building, some inscriptions
containing the name of Sargon, the king who built the Khorsabad palace.
They had been cut above the standard inscription, to which they were
evidently posterior.


_IV.--Kouyunjik_

Having finished my work at Nimroud, I turned my attention to Kouyunjik.
The term means in Turkish "the little sheep." The great mount is
situated on the plain near the junction of the Khausser and the Tigris,
the former winding round its base and then making its way into the great
stream.

The French consul had carried on desultory excavations some years at
Kouyunjik, without finding any traces of buildings. I set my workmen
commencing operations by the proper method of digging deep trenches. One
morning, as I was at Mosul, two Arab women came to me and announced that
sculptures had been discovered.

I rode to the ruins, and found that a wall and the remains of an
entrance had been reached. The wall proved to be one side of a chamber.
By following it, we reached an entrance, formed by winged human-headed
bulls, leading into a second hall. In a month nine halls and chambers
had been explored. In its architecture the newly discovered edifice
resembled the palaces of Nimroud and Khorsabad. The halls were long and
narrow, the walls of unbaked brick and panelled with sculptured slabs.

The king whose name is on the sculptures and bricks from Kouyunjik was
the father of Esarhaddon, the builder of the south-west palace at
Nimroud, and the son of Sargon, the Khorsabad king, and is now generally
admitted to be Sennacherib.

By the middle of the month of June my labours in Assyria drew to a
close. The time assigned for the excavations had been expended, and
further researches were not contemplated for the present. I prepared,
therefore, to turn my steps homeward after an absence of many years. The
ruins of Nimroud had been again covered up, and its palaces were once
more hidden from the eye.




CAROLUS LINNÆUS

A Tour in Lapland


_I.--A Wandering Scientist_

  Carolus Linnæus, the celebrated Swedish naturalist, was
  born at Rashult on May 23, 1707. At school his taste for
  botany was encouraged, but after an unsatisfactory
  academic career his father decided to apprentice him to a
  tradesman. A doctor called Rothmann, however, recognised
  and fostered his scientific talents, and in 1728, on
  Rothmann's advice, he went to Upsala and studied under the
  celebrated Rudbeck. In 1732 he made his famous tour in
  Lapland. He gives a fascinating account of this journey in
  "A Tour in Lapland" ("Lachesis Lapponica"), published in
  1737. In 1739 he was appointed a naval physician, and in
  1741 became professor of medicine at the University of
  Upsala, but in the following year exchanged his chair for
  that of botany. To Linnæus is due the honour of having
  first enunciated the true principles for defining genera
  and species, and that honour will last so long as biology
  itself endures. He found biology a chaos; he left it a
  cosmos. He died on January 10, 1778. Among his published
  works are "Systema Naturæ," "Fundamenta Botanica," and the
  "Species Plantarum."

Having been appointed by the Royal Academy of Sciences to travel through
Lapland for the purpose of investigating the three kingdoms of nature in
that country, I prepared my wearing apparel and other necessaries for
the journey.

I carried a small leather bag, half an ell in length, but somewhat less
in breadth, furnished on one side with hooks and eyes, so that it could
be opened and shut at pleasure. This bag contained one shirt, two pairs
of false sleeves, two half shirts, an inkstand, pencase, microscope, and
spying glass, a gauze cap to protect me occasionally from the gnats, a
comb, my journal, and a parcel of paper stitched together for drying
plants, both in folio; my manuscript ornithology, _Flora Uplandica_,
and _Characteres generici_. I wore a hanger at my side, and carried a
small fowling-piece, as well as an octangular stick, graduated for the
purpose of measuring.

I set out alone from the city of Upsal on Friday, May 22, 1732, at
eleven o'clock, being at that time within half a day of twenty-five
years of age.

At this season nature wore her most cheerful and delightful aspect, and
Flora celebrated her nuptials with Phoebus. The winter corn was half a
foot in height, and the barley had just shot out its blade. The birch,
the elm, and the aspen-tree began to put forth their leaves.

A number of mares with their colts were grazing everywhere near the
road. I remarked the great length of the colts' legs, which, according
to common opinion, are as long at their birth as they will ever be. I
noticed young kids, under whose chin, at the beginning of the throat,
were a pair of tubercles, like those seen in pigs, about an inch long,
and clothed with a few scattered hairs. Of their use I am ignorant. The
forest abounded with the yellow anemone (_Anemone ranunculoides_), which
many people consider as differing from that genus. One would suppose
they had never seen an anemone at all. Here, also, grew hepatica, and
wood sorrel. Their blossoms were all closed. Who has endowed plants with
intelligence to shut themselves up at the approach of rain? Even when
the weather changes in a moment from sunshine to rain they immediately
close.

Near the great river Linsnan I found blood-red stones. On rubbing them I
found the red colour external and distinct from the stone; in fact, it
was a red byssus.

At Enänger the people seemed somewhat larger in stature than in other
places, especially the men. I inquired whether the children are kept
longer at the breast than is usual with us, and was answered in the
affirmative. They are allowed that nourishment more than twice as long
as in other places. I have a notion that Adam and Eve were giants, and
that mankind from one generation to another, owing to poverty and other
causes, have diminished in size. Hence, perhaps, the diminutive stature
of the Laplanders.

The old tradition that the inhabitants of Helsingland never have the
ague is untrue, since I heard of many cases.

Between the post-house of Iggsund and Hudwiksvall a violet-coloured clay
is found in abundance, forming a regular stratum. I observed it likewise
in a hill, the strata of which consisted of two or three fingers'
breadths of common vegetable mould, then from four to six inches of
barren sand, next about a span of the violet clay, and lastly, barren
sand. The clay contained small and delicately smooth white bivalve
shells, quite entire, as well as some larger brown ones, of which great
quantities are to be found near the waterside. I am therefore convinced
that all these valleys and marshes have formerly been under water, and
that the highest hills only then rose above it. At this spot grows the
_Anemone hepatica_ with a purple flower; a variety so very rare in other
places that I should almost be of the opinion of the gardeners, who
believe the colours of particular earths may be communicated to flowers.

On May 21 I found at Natra some fields cultivated in an extraordinary
manner. After the field had lain fallow three or four years, it is sown
with one part rye and two parts barley, mixed together. The barley
ripens, and is reaped. The rye, meantime, goes into leaf, but shoots up
no stem, since it is smothered by the barley. After the barley has been
reaped, however, the rye grows and ripens the following year, producing
an abundant crop.


_II.--Lapland Customs_

The Laplanders of Lycksele prepare a kind of curd or cheese from the
milk of the reindeer and the leaves of sorrel. They boil these leaves
in a copper vessel, adding one-third part water, stirring it continually
with a ladle that it may not burn, and adding fresh leaves from time to
time till the whole acquires the consistence of a syrup. This takes six
or seven hours, after which it is set by to cool, and is then mixed with
the milk, and preserved for use from autumn till the ensuing summer in
wooden vessels, or in the first stomach of the reindeer. It is stored
either in the caves of the mountains or in holes dug in the ground, lest
it should be attacked by the mountain mice.

In Angermanland the people eat sour milk prepared in the following
manner. After the milk is turned, and the curd taken out, the whey is
put into a vessel, where it remains till it becomes sour. Immediately
after the making of cheese, fresh whey is poured lukewarm on the former
sour whey. This is repeated several times, care being always taken that
the fresh whey be lukewarm. This prepared milk is esteemed a great
dainty by the country people. They consider it as very cooling and
refreshing. Sometimes it is eaten along with fresh milk. Intermittent
fevers would not be so rare here as they are if they could be produced
by acid diet, for then this food must infallibly occasion them.

In Westbothland one of the peasants had shot a young beaver, which fell
under my examination. It was a foot and a half long, exclusive of the
tail, which was a palm in length and two inches and a half in breadth.
The hairs on the back were longer than the rest; the external ones
brownish black, the inner pale brown; the belly clothed with short,
dark-brown fur; body depressed; ears obtuse, clothed with fine short
hairs and destitute of any accessory lobe; snout blunt, with round
nostrils; upper lip cloven as far as the nostrils; lower very short; the
whiskers black, long, and stout; eyebrow of three bristles like the
whiskers over each eye; neck, none. The fur of the belly was
distinguished from that of the sides by a line on each side, in which
the skin was visible. Feet clothed with very short hairs, quite
different from those of the body. A fleshy integument invested the whole
body. There were two cutting teeth in each jaw, of which the upper pair
were the shortest, and notched at the summit like steps; the lower and
larger pair were sloped off obliquely--grinders very far remote from the
fore-teeth, which is characteristic of the animal, four on each side;
hind feet webbed, but fore feet with separate claws; tail flat, oblong,
obtuse, with a reticulated naked surface.

At Lycksele was a woman supposed to have a brood of frogs in her
stomach, owing to drinking water containing frogs' spawn. She thought
she could feel three of them, and that she and those beside her could
hear them croak. Her uneasiness was alleviated by drinking brandy. Salt
had no effect in killing the frogs, and even _nux vomica_, which had
cured another case of the same kind, was useless. I advised her to try
tar, but she had already tried it in vain.

The Lycksele Laplanders are subject, when they are compelled to drink
the warm sea water, to _allem_, or colic, for which they use soot,
snuff, salt, and other remedies. They also suffer from asthma, epilepsy,
pleurisy, and rheumatism. Fever and small-pox are rare. They cure coughs
by sulphur laid on burning fungus.

On June 3, being lost amid marshes, I sent a man to obtain a guide.
About two in the afternoon he returned, accompanied by an extraordinary
creature. I can scarce believe that any practical description of a fury
could come up to the idea which this Lapland fair one excited. It might
well be imagined she was really of Stygian origin. Her stature was very
diminutive; her face of the darkest brown, from the effects of smoke;
her eyes dark and sparkling; her eyebrows black. Her pitchy-coloured
hair hung loose about her head, and she wore a flat, red cap.

Though a fury in appearance, she addressed me with mingled pity and
reserve.

I inquired how far it was to Sorsele.

"That we do not know," replied she; "but in the present state of the
roads it is at least seven days' journey, as my husband has told me."

I was exhausted and famishing. How I longed to meet once more people who
feed on spoon-meat! I inquired of the woman if she could give me food.
She replied that she could give me only fish, but finding the fish full
of maggots, I could not touch it. On arriving at her hut, however, I
perceived three cheeses, and succeeded in buying the smallest. Then I
returned through the marshes the way I came.

I remarked that all the women hereabouts feed their infants by means of
a horn; nor do they take the trouble of boiling the milk, so it is no
wonder the children have worms. I could not help being astonished that
these peasants did not suckle their children.

Near the road I saw the under-jaw of a horse, having six fore-teeth,
much worn and blunted; two canine teeth; and at a distance from the
latter twelve grinders, six on each side. If I knew how many teeth, and
of what peculiar form, as well as how many udders and where situated,
each animal has, I should perhaps be able to contrive a most natural
methodical arrangement of quadrupeds. [This observation seems to record
the first idea of the Linnæan system of the order of the mammalia.]


_III.--Ignorance Incorrigible_

On June 18 the people brought me a peasant's child, supposed to have
cataract. I concluded that it was not cataract; but noticing that the
eyeballs rolled upwards when the child was spoken to, I asked the mother
whether, when she was with child, she had seen anybody turn their eyes
in that manner. She replied that she had attended her mother, or
mother-in-law, who was supposed to be dying, whose eyes rolled in a
similar fashion. This was the cause of the infant's misfortune.

At Lulea I was informed of a disease of cattle so pestilential that
though the animals were flayed even before they were cold, whenever
their blood had come in contact with the human body it had caused
gangrenous spots and sores. Some persons had both their hands swelled,
and one his face, in consequence of the blood coming upon it. Many
people had lost their lives by the disease, insomuch that nobody would
now venture to flay any more of the cattle, but contrived to bury them
whole.

On June 30 I arrived at Jockmock, where the curate and schoolmaster
tormented me with their consummate and most incorrigible ignorance. I
could not but wonder that so much pride and ambition, such scandalous
want of information, with such incorrigible stupidity, could exist in
persons of their profession, who are commonly expected to be men of
knowledge. No man will deny the propriety of such people as these being
placed as far as possible from civilised society.

The learned curate began his conversation by remarking how the clouds as
they strike the mountains carry away stones, trees, and cattle. I
ventured to suggest that such accidents were rather to be attributed to
the force of the wind, since the clouds could not of themselves carry
away anything. He laughed at me, saying surely I had never seen any
clouds. For my part it seemed to me that he could never have been
anywhere but in the clouds. I explained that when the weather is foggy I
walk in clouds, and that when the cloud is condensed it rains. At all
such reasoning, being above his comprehension, he only laughed with a
sardonic smile. Still less was he satisfied with my explanation how
watery bubbles may be lifted into the air. He insisted that the clouds
were solid bodies, reinforced his assertion with a text of Scripture,
silenced me by authority, and laughed at my ignorance.

He next condescended to inform me that a phlegm is always to be found on
the mountains where the clouds have touched them. I told him that the
phlegm was a vegetable called nostoc, and he thereupon concluded that
too much learning had turned my brain, and, fully persuaded of his own
complete knowledge of nature, was pleased to be very facetious at my
expense. Finally, he graciously advised me to pay some regard to the
opinions of people skilled in these abstruse matters, and not to expose
myself on my return by publishing such absurd and preposterous opinions.

Meantime, the pedagogue lamented that people should bestow so much
attention upon temporal vanities, and consequently, alas, neglect their
spiritual good; and he remarked that many a man had been ruined by too
great application to study. Both these wise men concurred in one thing:
they could not conceal their wonder that the Royal Academy should have
appointed a mere student for the purposes for which I was sent when
there were competent men like themselves in the country ready to
undertake the business.

The common method of the Laplanders for joining broken earthenware is to
tie the fragments together with a thread, and boil the whole in fresh
milk, which acts as a cement.

The Laplanders are particularly swift-footed because: They wear no heels
to their half-boots; they are accustomed to run from their infancy, and
habitually exercise their muscles; their muscles are not stiffened by
labour; they eat animal food, and do not overeat; they are of small
stature. They are healthy because they breathe pure air and drink pure
water, eat their food cold and thoroughly cooked, never overload their
stomachs, and have a tranquil mind.

_IV.--A Lapland Marriage_

All the Laplanders are blear-eyed, owing to the sharp wind, the glare on
the snow, fogs, and smoke. Yet I never met any people who lead such
easy, happy lives as the Laplanders. In summer they have two meals of
milk a day, and when they have milked their reindeer or made cheese,
they resign themselves to indolent tranquillity, not knowing what to do
next.

When a Laplander wishes to marry he goes with all his nearest relatives
to the hut of the young woman. He himself remains outside; but the
others, laden with provisions and presents, enter and begin
negotiations. When they are all seated the young man's father presents
some brandy to the young woman's father, and being asked the reason of
the gift, replies: "I am come hither with a good intention, and I pray
God it may prosper." He then declares his errand, and if his suit is
favourably received, the friends of the lover place the
presents--usually utensils and silver coins--on a reindeer skin before
the father and mother of the prospective bride, and the father, or the
mother, of the lover apportions the money to the young woman and her
parents. If the presents are considered satisfactory, the daughter, who
has usually retired to another hut, is sent for.

When the bride enters the hut her father asks her whether she is
satisfied with what he has done. To which she replies that she submits
herself to the disposal of her father, who is the best judge of what is
proper for her. The mother then lays in the bride's lap the sum
apportioned for her. If it proves less than she expected, she shows her
dissatisfaction by various gestures and signs of refusal, and may
possibly obtain at least the promise of a larger sum.

When such pecuniary matters are finally arranged the father and mother
of the bridegroom present him and his bride with a cup of brandy, of
which they partake together, and then all the company shake hands.
Afterwards they take off their hats, and one of the company makes an
oration, praying for God's blessing upon the newly married couple, and
returning thanks to Him who "gives every man his own wife, and every
woman her own husband."

Then the provisions, which generally consist of several cheeses and a
piece of meat dried and salted, are brought forward, and the company sit
down to feast. The bride and bridegroom are placed together, and are
given the best of the provisions. The company then serve themselves,
taking their meat on the points of their knives, and dipping each morsel
into some of the broth in which it was boiled.

The dinner being over, the whole company shake hands, return thanks for
the entertainment, and retire to bed. Next morning they all feed on the
remainder of the feast. The banns are usually published once. The
marriage ceremony, which is very short, is performed after the
above-mentioned company has departed.

The tranquil existence of the Laplanders corresponds to Ovid's
description of the golden age, and to the pastoral state as depicted by
Virgil. It recalls the remembrance of the patriarchal life, and the
poetical descriptions of the Elysian fields.

About one o'clock on the afternoon of October 10, I returned safe to
Upsal. To the Maker and Preserver of all things, be praise, honour, and
glory for ever!




DAVID LIVINGSTONE

Missionary Travels and Researches


_I.--Early Experiences_

  David Livingstone was born at Blantyre, on the Clyde
  (Scotland), on March 19, 1813, the son of a small
  tea-dealer. Working as a boy in a cotton-mill, he learnt
  Latin by the midnight candle, and later attended medical
  and Greek classes at Glasgow University, where he
  qualified as doctor of medicine. He sailed as missionary
  to Africa in 1840, and worked at Kuruman with Moffat,
  whose daughter he married. Setting out to explore the
  interior in 1849, Livingstone eventually discovered Lakes
  Ngami, Shirwa, Dilolo, Bangweolo, Tanganyika, and Nyassa,
  and the Rivers Zambesi, Shire, and Kasai, also the
  Victoria and Murchison Falls. His scientific researches
  were invaluable, his character so pure and brave that he
  made the white man respected. Stanley visited and helped
  him in 1871, but on May 1, 1873, he died at Ilala, and his
  remains, carefully preserved by his native servants, were
  brought to England and buried with great honours in
  Westminster Abbey. His "Missionary Travels and Researches
  in South Africa," published during his visit to England in
  1857, make delightful reading, and thoroughly reflect the
  inmost character of the man. There is no attempt at
  literary style; the story is told with a simplicity and an
  apparent unconsciousness of having done anything
  remarkable that cannot fail to captivate.

My own inclination would lead me to say as little as possible about
myself. My great-grandfather fell at Culloden, my grandfather used to
tell us national stories, and my grandmother sang Gaelic songs. To my
father and the other children the dying injunction was, "Now, in my
lifetime I have searched most carefully through all the traditions I
could find of our family, and I never could discover that there was a
dishonest man among our forefathers. If, therefore, any of you or any of
your children should take to dishonest ways, it will not be because it
runs in your blood, it does not belong to you. I leave this precept
with you--Be honest."

As a boy I worked at a cotton factory at Blantyre to lessen the family
anxieties, and bought my "Rudiments of Latin" out of my first week's
wages, pursuing the study of that language at an evening school,
followed up till twelve o'clock or later, if my mother did not interfere
by jumping up and snatching the books out of my hands. Reading
everything I could lay my hands on, except novels, scientific works and
books of travel were my especial delight. Great pains had been taken by
my parents to instil the doctrines of Christianity into my mind. My
early desire was to become a pioneer missionary in China, and eventually
I offered my services to the London Missionary Society, having passed my
medical examination at Glasgow University.

I embarked for Africa in 1840, and from Cape Town travelled up country
seven hundred miles to Kuruman, where I joined Mr. Moffat in his work,
and after four years as a bachelor, I married his daughter Mary.

Settling among the Mabotsa tribe, I found that they were troubled with
attacks from lions, so one day I went with my gun into the bush and shot
one, but the wounded beast sprang upon me, and felled me to the ground.
While perfectly conscious, I lost all sense of fear or feeling, and
narrowly escaped with my life. Besides crunching the bone into
splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds on the upper part of my arm.

I attached myself to the tribe called Bakwains, whose chief, Sechele, a
most intelligent man, became my fast friend, and a convert to
Christianity. The Bakwains had many excellent qualities, which might
have been developed by association with European nations. An adverse
influence, however, is exercised by the Boers, for, while claiming for
themselves the title of Christians, they treat these natives as black
property, and their system of domestic slavery and robbery is a disgrace
to the white man. For my defence of the rights of Sechele and the
Bakwains, I was treated as conniving at their resistance, and my house
was destroyed, my library, the solace of our solitude, torn to pieces,
my stock of medicines smashed, and our furniture and clothing sold at
public auction to pay the expenses of the foray.

In travelling we sometimes suffered from a scarcity of meat, and the
natives, to show their sympathy for the children, often gave them
caterpillars to eat; but one of the dishes they most enjoyed was cooked
"mathametlo," a large frog, which, during a period of drought, takes
refuge in a hole in the root of certain bushes, and over the orifice a
large variety of spider weaves its web. The scavenger-beetle, which
keeps the Kuruman villages sweet and clean, rolls the dirt into a ball,
and carries it, like Atlas, on its back.

In passing across the great Kalahari desert we met with the Bushmen, or
Bakalahari, who, from dread of visits from strange tribes, choose their
residences far away from water, hiding their supplies of this necessity
for life in pits filled up by women, who pass every drop through their
mouths as a pump, using a straw to guide the stream into the vessel.
They will never disclose this supply to strangers, but by sitting down
and waiting with patience until the villagers were led to form a
favourable opinion of us, a woman would bring out a shell full of the
precious fluid from I knew not where.

At Nchokotsa we came upon a number of salt-pans, which, in the setting
sun, produced a most beautiful mirage as of distant water, foliage, and
animals. We discovered the river Zouga, and eventually, on August 1,
1849, we were the first Europeans to gaze upon the broad waters of Lake
Ngami. My chief object in coming to this lake was to visit Sebituane,
the great chief of the Makololo, a man of immense influence, who had
conquered the black tribes of the country and made himself dreaded even
by the terrible Mosilikatse.

During our stay with him he treated us with great respect, and was
pleased with the confidence we had shown in bringing our children to
him. He was stricken with inflammation of the lungs, and knew it meant
death, though his native doctors said, "Sebituane can never die." I
visited him with my little boy Robert. "Come near," said he, "and see if
I am any longer a man. I am done." After sitting with him some time and
commending him to the mercy of God, I rose to depart, when the dying
chieftain, raising himself up a little from his prone position, called a
servant, and said, "Take Robert to Maunku (one of his wives), and tell
her to give him some milk." These were the last words of Sebituane.


_II.--Among the Makololo_

On questioning intelligent men amongst these natives as to a knowledge
of good and evil, of God and the future state, they possessed a
tolerably clear perception on these subjects. Their want, however, of
any form of public worship, or of idols, or of formal prayers and
sacrifices, make both the Caffres and Bechuanas appear as amongst the
most godless races of mortals known anywhere. When an old Bushman on one
occasion was sitting by the fire relating his adventures, including his
murder of five other natives, he was remonstrated with. "What will God
say when you appear before Him?" "He will say," replied he, "that I was
a very clever fellow." But I found afterwards in speaking of the Deity
they had only the idea of a chief, and when I knew this, I did not make
any mistake afterwards.

The country round Unku was covered with grass, and the flowers were in
full bloom. The thermometer in the shade generally stood at 98 deg. from
1 to 3 p.m., but it sank as low as 65 deg. by night, so that the heat
was by no means exhausting. At the surface of the ground in the sun it
marked 125 deg., and three inches below 138 deg. The hand cannot be
held on the ground, and even the horny soles of the natives are
protected by hide sandals, yet the ants were busy working in it. The
water in the floods was as high as 100 deg., but as water does not
conduct heat readily downwards, deliriously cool water may be obtained
by anyone walking into the middle and lifting up the water from the
bottom to the surface by the hands.

We at last reached a spot where, by climbing the highest tree, we could
see a fine large sheet of water, surrounded on all sides by an
impenetrable belt of reeds. This was the river Chobe, and is called
Zambesi. We struggled through the high, serrated grass, the heat
stifling for want of air, and when we reached one of the islands, my
strong moleskins were worn through at the knees, and the leather
trousers of my companion were torn, and his legs bleeding. The Makololo
said in their figurative language: "He has dropped among us from the
clouds, yet came riding on the back of a hippopotamus. We Makololo
thought no one could cross the Chobe without our knowledge, but here he
drops among us like a bird."

On our arrival at Linyanti, the capital, the chief, Sekelutu, took me
aside and pressed me to mention those things I liked best and hoped to
get from him. Anything either in or out of the town should be freely
given if I would only mention it. I explained to him that my object was
to elevate him and his people to be Christians; but he replied that he
did not wish to learn to read the Book, for he was afraid "it might
change his heart and make him content with one wife like Sechele." I
liked the frankness of Sekelutu, for nothing is so wearying to the
spirit as talking to those who agree with everything advanced.

While at Linyanti I was taken with fever, from chills caught by leaving
my warm wagon in the evening to conduct family worship at my people's
fires. Anxious to ascertain whether the natives possessed the knowledge
of any remedy, I sent for one of their doctors. He put some roots into
a pot with water, and when it was boiling, placed it beneath a blanket
thrown around both me and it. This produced no effect, and after being
stewed in their vapour baths, smoked like a red-herring over green
twigs, and charmed _secundem artem_, I concluded I could cure my fever
more quickly than they could.

Leaving Linyanti, we passed up the Lecambye river into the Barotse
country, and on making inquiries whether Santuru, the Moloiana, had ever
been visited by white men, I could find no vestige of any such visit
before my arrival in 1851.

In our ascent up the River Leeba, we reached the village of Manenko, a
female chief, of whose power of tongue we soon had ample proof. She was
a woman of fine physique, and insisted on accompanying us some distance
with her husband and drummer, the latter thumping most vigorously, until
a heavy, drizzling mist set in and compelled him to desist. Her husband
used various incantations and vociferations to drive away the rain, but
down it poured incessantly, and on our Amazon went, in the very lightest
marching order, and at a pace that few men could keep up with. Being on
ox-back, I kept pretty close to our leader, and asked her why she did
not clothe herself during the rain, and learnt that it is not considered
proper for a chief to appear effeminate. My men, in admiration of her
pedestrian powers, every now and then remarked, "Manenko is a soldier!"
Thoroughly wet and cold, we were all glad when she proposed a halt to
prepare for our night's lodging on the banks of a stream.


_III.--Peril and Patience_

When we arrived at the foot of the Kasai we were badly in want of food,
and there seemed little hope of getting any; one of our guides, however,
caught a light-blue mole and two mice for his supper. Katende, the
chief, sent for me the following morning, and on my walking into his
hut I was told that he wanted a man, a tusk, beads, copper rings, and a
shell as payment for leave to pass through his country. Having humbly
explained our circumstances and that he could not expect to "catch a
humble cow by the horns"--a proverb similar to ours that "You cannot
draw milk out of a stone"--we were told to go home, and he would speak
to us next day. I could not avoid a hearty laugh at the cool impudence
of the savage. Eventually I sent him one of my worst shirts, but added
that when I should reach my own chief naked, and was asked what I had
done with my clothes, I should be obliged to confess I had left them
with Katende.

Passing onwards, we crossed a small rivulet, the Sengko, and another and
larger one with a bridge over it. At the farther end of this structure
stood a negro who demanded fees. He said the bridge was his, the guides
were his children, and if we did not pay him, he would prevent further
progress. This piece of civilisation I was not prepared to meet, and
stood a few seconds looking at our bold toll-keeper, when one of our men
took off three copper bracelets, which paid for the whole party. The
negro was a better man than he at first seemed, for he immediately went
into his garden and brought us some leaves of tobacco as a present.

We were brought to a stand on the banks of the Loajima, a tributary of
the Kasai, by the severity of my fever, being in a state of partial
coma, until late at night, I found we were in the midst of enemies; and
the Chiboque natives insisting upon a present, I had to give them a
tired-out ox. Later on we marched through the gloomy forest in gloomier
silence; the thick atmosphere prevented my seeing the creeping plants in
time to avoid them; I was often caught, and as there is no stopping the
oxen when they have the prospect of giving the rider a tumble, came
frequently to the ground. In addition to these mishaps, my ox Sinbad
went off at a plunging gallop, the bridle broke, and I came down behind
on the crown of my head. He gave me a kick in the thigh at the same
time. I felt none the worse for this rough treatment, but would not
recommend it to others as a palliative in cases of fever.

We shortly afterwards met a hostile party of natives, who refused us
further passage. Seeing that these people had plenty of iron-headed
arrows and some guns, I called a halt, and ordered my men to put the
luggage in the centre in case of actual attack. I then dismounted, and
advancing a little towards our principal opponent, showed him how easily
I could kill him, but pointed upwards, saying, "I fear God." He did the
same, placing his hand on his heart, pointing upwards, and saying, "I
fear to kill, but come to our village; come, do come."

During these exciting scenes I always forgot my fever, but a terrible
sense of sinking came back with the feeling of safety. These people
stole our beads, and though we offered all our ornaments and my shirts,
they refused us passage. My men were so disheartened that they proposed
a return home, which distressed me exceedingly. After using all my
powers of persuasion, I declared to them that if they returned, I would
go on alone, and went into my little tent with the mind directed to Him
Who hears the sighing of the soul, and was soon followed by the head of
Mohorisi, saying, "We will never leave you. Do not be disheartened.
Wherever you lead, we will follow. Our remarks were made only on account
of the injustice of these people."

We were soon on the banks of the Quango, and after some difficulties
reached the opposite bank.

The village of Cassenge is composed of thirty or forty traders' houses
on an elevated flat spot in the great Quango, or Cassenge, valley. As I
always preferred to appear in my own proper character, I was an object
of curiosity to the hospitable Portuguese. They evidently looked upon me
as an agent of the English government, engaged in some new movement for
the suppression of slavery. They could not divine what a "missionario"
had to do with the latitudes and longitudes which I was intent on
observing.

On coming across the plains to Loanda we first beheld the sea; my
companions looked upon the boundless ocean with awe. In describing their
feelings afterwards they remarked, "We marched along with our father
thinking that what the ancients had always told us was true, that the
world has no end, but all at once the world said to us, 'I am finished,
there is no more of me.'"

Here in this city, among its population of 12,000 souls there was but
one genuine English gentleman, who bade me welcome, and seeing me ill,
benevolently offered me his bed. Never shall I forget the luxuriant
pleasure I enjoyed feeling myself again on a good English couch, after
six months sleeping on the ground.


_IV.--Into the Wilderness Again_

For the sake of my Makololo companions I refused the tempting offer of a
passage home in one of her majesty's cruisers.

During my journey through Angola I received at Cassenge a packet of the
"Times" from home with news of the Russian war up to the terrible charge
of the light cavalry. The intense anxiety I felt to hear more may be
imagined by every true patriot.

After leaving the Kasai country, we entered upon a great level plain,
which we had formerly found in a flooded condition. We forded the
Lotembwa on June 8, and found that the little Lake Dilolo, by giving a
portion to our Kasai and another to the Zambesi, distributes its waters
to the Atlantic and Indian oceans. From information derived from Arabs
at Zanzibar, whom I met at Naliele in the middle of the country, a large
shallow lake is pointed out in the region east of Loanda, named
Tanganyenka, which requires three days in crossing in canoes. It is
connected with another named Kalagwe (Garague?), farther north, and may
be the Nyanja of the Maravim.

Although I was warned that the Batoka tribe would be hostile, I decided
on going down the Zambesi, and on my way I visited the falls of
Victoria, called by the natives Mosioatunya, or more anciently, Shongwe.
No one can imagine the beauty of the view from anything witnessed in
England. It has never been seen before by European eyes, but scenes so
lovely must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight. Five columns
of "smoke" arose, bending in the direction of the wind. The entire falls
is simply a crack made in a hard basaltic rock from the right to the
left bank of the Zambesi, and then prolonged from the left bank away
through thirty or forty miles of hills. The whole scene was extremely
beautiful; the banks and islands dotted over the river are adorned with
sylvan vegetation of great variety of colour and form. At the period of
our visit several of the trees were spangled over with blossoms.

In due time we reached the confluence of the Loangwa and the Zambesi,
most thankful to God for His great mercies in helping us thus far. I
felt some turmoil of spirit in the evening at the prospect of having all
my efforts for the welfare of this great region and its teeming
population knocked on the head by savages to-morrow, who might be said
to "know not what they do."

When at last we reached within eight miles of Tete I was too fatigued to
go on, but sent the commandant the letters of recommendation of the
bishop and lay down to rest. Next morning two officers and some soldiers
came to fetch us, and when I had partaken of a good breakfast, though I
had just before been too tired to sleep, all my fatigue vanished. The
pleasure of that breakfast was enhanced by the news that Sebastopol had
fallen and the war finished.




PIERRE LOTI

The Desert


_I.--Arabia Deserta_

  Pierre Loti, whose real name is Louis Marie Julien Viaud,
  and who has made his whole career in the French navy, was
  born at Rochefort on January 14, 1850. Distinguished
  though his naval activities have been, it is as a man of
  letters that Pierre Loti is known to the world. His first
  production, "Aziyade," appeared in 1876, and gave ample
  promise of that style, borrowed from no one and entirely
  his own, which has since characterized all his works. "The
  Desert," published in 1894, is a masterpiece of a
  peculiarly modern kind. Loti leaves to other writers the
  task of depicting the Bedouin. The spectacle of nature in
  her wildest and severest mood was what he went out to see;
  and he employs all the resources of his incomparable
  genius for description in painting the vacant immensity of
  the Arabian wilderness. Tired and distracted by the whirl
  and fever of life in Paris, Loti set out, like Tancred, in
  Beaconsfield's romance on a pilgrimage from Sinai to
  Calvary to recover the faith he had lost in civilisation.

_February 22, 1894._ All about us was the empty infinitude; the twilight
desert swept by a great cold wind; the desert that rolled, in dull, dead
colours, under a still more sombre sky which, on the circular horizon,
seemed to fall on it and crush it.

Sitting under the palm-tree of the Oasis of Moses, half an hour's march
from the Red Sea, surrounded by our camels and camel-men, we stared at
the desert, and the emotion and the ecstasy of solitude came over us. We
longed to plunge headlong into the dim, luring immensity, to run with
the wind blowing over the desolate dunes. So we ran, and reaching the
heights, we looked down on a larger wilderness, over which trailed a
dying gleam of daylight, fallen from the yellow sky through a rent made
by the wind in the cloudy veil. But so sinister was the desert in the
winter wind, that from some remote, ancestral source of feeling a
strange melancholy welled up and mingled with our desire for the
solitude. In it was the instinctive fear which makes the sheep and
cattle of the green lands retrace their steps at the sight of regions
over which hangs the shadow of death.

But under our tent, lighted and sheltered from the wind, we recovered
our gaiety of mood. There was the novelty of our first meal in the
desert to excite us, and the pleasure of packing up our ridiculous
European costumes, and dressing ourselves in the more useful and far
more decorative burnous and veils of the sheiks of Arabia.

All the next three days we travelled through a waterless waste,
following a vague trace which, in the course of ages, men and beasts
have made in the dry sand. Far in front the sky-line danced in the heat.
The sand around was strewn with greyish stones; everything was grey,
grey-red or grey-yellow. Here and there was a plant of a pale green,
with an imperceptible flower, and the long necks of the camels bent and
stretched trying to crop it.

Little by little one's mind grows drowsy, lulled by the monotony of the
slow, swinging movement of the tall, indefatigable camel. In the
foreground of the grey scene, one's sleepy, lowered eyes see at last
nothing but the continual undulation of its neck, of the same
grey-yellow as the sand, and the back of its shaggy head, similar to the
little head of a lion, encircled with a barbaric ornament of white
shells and blue pearls, with hangings of black wool.

As we go on, the last signs of life disappear. There is not a bird, not
an insect; even the flies which exist in all the lands of the earth are
not found. While the deserts of the sea contain vital wealth in
profusion, here are sterility and death. Yet one is intoxicated with
the stillness and lifelessness of it all, and the air is pure and
virginal, blowing from the world before the creation.

The wind drops, and in an atmosphere of an absolute purity the sun
mounts and burns with a white fire. Under the dazzling light, one shuts
one's eyes in spite of oneself for long periods. When one opens them,
the horizon seems a black circle breaking on the brightness of the
heavens, while the precise spot in which one is remains astonishingly
white. Nothing sings, nothing flies, nothing stirs. The immense silence
is dully broken only by the incessant, monotonous tread of our slow,
swinging camels.

On the fourth day we leave the plain and strike into the mountainous
solitudes of the Sinai peninsula.... As we ascend, vast new tracts are
unrolled on all sides beneath our eyes, and the impression of the desert
becomes more distressing by reason of this visible affirmation of its
illimitableness. It is terrifying in its magnificence! The limpidity of
the air gives an extraordinary depth to the perspectives, and in the
clear and far-receding distances the chains of mountains are interlaced
and overlaid in regular forms which, from the beginning of the world,
have been untouched by the hand of man, and with hard, dry contours
which no vegetation has ever softened or changed. In the foreground they
are of a reddish brown; then in their flight to the sky-line they pass
into a wonderful tone of violet, which grows bluer and bluer until it
melts into the pure indigo of the extreme distance. And all this is
empty, silent, and dead. It is the splendour of an invariable region,
from which is absent the ephemeral beauty of forest, verdure, or
herbage; the splendour of eternal matter, affranchised from all the
instability of life; the geological splendour of the world before the
creation.

Oh, the sunset this evening! Never have we seen so much gold poured out
for us alone around our lonely camp. Our camels, wandering beyond our
tents, and strangely enlarged against the vacant horizon, have gold on
their heads, on their legs, on their long necks; they are all edged with
gold.

And then night comes, the limpid night with its stillness. If at this
moment one goes away from the camp and loses sight of it, or even
separates oneself from the little handful of living creatures strayed in
the midst of dead space, in order to feel more absolutely alone in the
nocturnal vacancy, one has an impression of terror in which there is
something religious. Less distant, less inaccessible than elsewhere, the
stars blaze in the depths of the cosmic abysses; and in this desert,
unchangeable and untouched by time, from which one looks at them, one
feels oneself nearer to conceiving their inconceivable infinity; one has
almost the illusion of sharing in their starry duration, their starry
impassibility.


_II.--The Habitation of Solitude_

_March 1._ After climbing two days in snow, thunder, and tempest, we see
at last, amid the dim, cloudy peaks of granite, the tall ramparts and
the cypress trees of the convent of Sinai. Alas! how silent, sinister,
and chill appears the holy mountain, whose name alone still flames for
us in the distance. It is as empty as the sky above our heads.

Trembling with the cold in our thin, wet burnous, we alight from our
camels, that suffer and complain, disquieted by the white obscurity, the
lashing wind, the strange, wild altitude. For twenty minutes we clamber
by lantern light among blocks and falls of granite, with bare feet that
slip at every step on the snow. Then we reach a gigantic wall, the
summit of which is lost in darkness, and a little low door, covered with
iron, opens. We pass in. Two more doors of a smaller kind lead through a
vaulted tunnel in the rampart. They close behind us with the clang of
armour, and we creep up some flights of rough, broken stairs, hewed out
of the rock, to a hostel for pilgrims at the top of the great fortress.

Some hospitable monks in black robes, and with long hair like women,
hasten to cheer us with a little hot coffee and a little lighted
charcoal, carried in a copper vase. Everything has an air of nonchalant
wretchedness and Oriental dilapidation in this convent built by the
Emperor Justinian fourteen centuries ago. Our bare, whitewashed bedrooms
are like the humblest of Turkish dwellings, save for the modest icon
above the divan, with a night-light burning before it. The little
chamber is covered with the names of pilgrims gathered from the ends of
the earth; Russian, Arabian, and Greek inscriptions predominate.

Aroused by a jet of clear sunlight, and surprised by the strangeness of
the place, I ran to the balcony; there I still marvelled to find the
fantastic things seen by glimpses last night, standing real and
curiously distinct in the implacable white light, but arranged in an
unreal way, as if inset into each other without perspective, so pure is
the atmosphere--and all silent, silent as if they were dead of their
extreme old age. A Byzantine church, a mosque, cots, cloisters, an
entanglement of stairways, galleries, and arches falling to the
precipices below: all this in miniature; built up in a tiny space; all
this encompassed with formidable ramparts, and hooked on to the flanks
of gigantic Sinai! From the sharpness and thinness of the air, we know
that we are at an excessive height, and yet we seem to be at the bottom
of a well. On every side the extreme peaks of Sinai enclose us, as they
mount and scale the sky; their titanic walls, all of blood-red granite
without stain or shadow, are so vertical and so high that they dizzy and
appal. Only a fragment of the sky is visible, but its blueness is of a
profound transparency, and the sun is magnificent. And still the same
eerie silence envelops the phantom-like monastery, whose antiquity is
accentuated under the cold, dazzling sunlight and the sparkling snow.
One feels that it is verily "the habitation of solitude," encompassed by
the great wildernesses.

Its situation has preserved it from the revolutions, the wars, and the
changing fashions of the world. Almost everything remains just as it was
built in 550 by Justinian. And when one of the long-haired monks shows
us the marvellous treasures of the basilica--a dim, richly barbaric
structure, filled with priceless offerings from the ancient kings of the
earth--we no longer wonder at the enormous height and thickness of the
ramparts which protect the convent from the Bedouins.

Behind the tabernacle of the basilica is the holy place of Sinai--the
crypt of the "Burning Bush." It is a sombre cavern lined with antique
tiles of a dim blue-green, which are hidden under the icons of gold and
precious stone attached to the walls, and under the profusion of gold
and silver lamps hanging from the low roof. Rigid saints in vermilion
robes, whose faces are concealed in the dark shadow of their barbaric
glistening crowns, looked at us as we entered. We stepped in reverently,
on bare feet, and never, in any place, did we have so entire an
impression of a recoil into the long past ages of the world.

Peoples and empires have passed away, while these precious things slowly
tarnished in this dim crypt. Even the monk who accompanies us resembles,
with his long red hair falling over his shoulders, and the pale beauty
of his ascetic face, the mystics of the early ages; and his thoughts are
infinitely removed from ours. And the vague reflection of sunlight which
arrives through a single, little window in the thick wall, and falls in
a circle of ghostly radiance on the icons and mosaics, seems to be some
gleam from an ancient day, some gleam from an age far different from the
sordid, impious century in which we live.

A kind of lodge, paved with chiselled silver, and hung with lighted
lamps, rises in the depth of the crypt; it is there that, according to
the venerated tradition, the _Angel of the Eternal_ appeared to Moses in
the midst of the burning bush.


_III.--Where Nothing Changes_

_March 16._ We have now left the blue lonely waters and the red granite
cliffs of the Gulf of Akaba, and entered the great desert of Tih, the
solitudes of which, our camel-men say, are as immense and as flat as the
sea, and the scene of incessant mirages. It is peopled by a few tribes
of savage Bedouins, descended from the Amalekites. This is the land in
which nothing changes: the true Orient, immutable in its dust and its
dreams. Behind the barren hill on which we have camped, Arabia Deserta
unrolls the infinite tract of its red desolation. On our right is the
wild wilderness of Petra and the sinister mountains of the land of Edom.
In front stretches the gloomier waste of the plateau of Tih.

From the spot on which we stand, light tracks, made by the regular
movement of caravans, run out into the distance, innumerable as the
threads in a weaver's loom. They form two rays: one dies away into the
west, the other into the north. The first is the route of the believers
coming from Egypt and Morocco; the second, which we are about to follow,
is the path of the pilgrims from Syria to Palestine. This wild crossway
of the desert, along which pass every year crowds of twenty or thirty
thousand men marching to the holy city of Mecca, is now empty,
infinitely empty, and the mournful, vacant grandeur which it wears under
the sombre sky is terrible. The habitual halting-place of multitudes, it
is strewn with tombstones, little rough, unhewn blocks, one at the head,
the other at the feet--places in which the pious pilgrims who passed by
have laid down to rest for eternity.

Our dromedaries, excited by the wide, open space in front of them, raise
their heads and scent the wind, and then change their languid gait into
something that becomes almost a race. It is of a mud-grey colour, this
desert that calls to them, and as even as a lawn. As far as the eye can
reach, no change is seen in it, and it is gloomy under a still gloomier
sky. It has almost the shimmer of something humid, but its immense
surface is all made of dry mud, broken and marked like crackled
porcelain.

The next day the colour of the wilderness changes from muddy grey to
deep black, and the sun soared up, white-hot, in a clear blue sky. The
empty, level distances trembled in the heat, and seemed to be preparing
for all sorts of visions and mirages.

"Gazal! Gazal!" (gazelles) cried the sheik. They were passing in an
opposite course to ours, like a whirl of sand, little creatures
slenderly fine, little creatures timid and quick in flight. But the
moving, troubled air altered their images and juggled them away from our
defeated eyes.

Then the first phantom lake appeared, and deceived even the Bedouin
chief--the water was so blue, and the shadows of a border of palm-trees
seemed to be reflected in it. And very soon the tempting waters show on
all sides, retreating before us, changing their shapes, spreading out,
going away, coming back; large lakes or winding rivers or little ponds
edged with imaginary reeds. Every minute they increase, and it seems
like a sea which little by little gains on us--a disquieting sea that
trembles. But at noon all this blue phantasmagoria vanishes abruptly, as
if it were blown away at a breath. There is nothing but dried sands.
Clear, real, implacable, reappears the land of thirst and death.

_Easter Sunday, March 25, 1894._ We were awakened this morning by the
singing of the larks. After travelling for three hours, look, here are
some trees--the first we have seen--a long valley full of trees; and
there, on the far sky-line, is the blue edge of the sea. And at last
Gaza, with its white minarets and grey houses; Gaza, in the midst of its
gardens and its woods; Gaza, that seems a sumptuous city to us poor
wanderers of the desert!

The moon is high. It is the hour that our Bedouins depart. Seated on
their tall swinging beasts, the sheiks go by, and wave to us a friendly
farewell. They are returning to the terrible land where they were born
and where they love to live, and their departure brings to an end our
dream of the desert. To-morrow, at break of day, we shall ascend towards
Jerusalem.




SIR JOHN MANDEVILLE

Voyage and Travel


_I.--Of the Holy Land and the Way Thereto_

  The celebrated "Voyage and Travel of Sir John Mandeville"
  was first published in French between 1357 and 1371. The
  identity of its author has given rise to much difference
  of opinion, but its authorship is now generally ascribed
  to Jehan de Bourgoigne, a physician who practised at
  Liège. There is, indeed, some evidence that this name was
  assumed, and that the physician's real name, Mandeville,
  had been discarded when he fled from England after
  committing homicide. A tomb at Liège, seen at so late as
  the seventeenth century, bore the name of Mandeville, and
  gave the date of his death as November 17, 1372. As to the
  book itself, its material is evidently borrowed chiefly
  from other writers, especially from the account of the
  travels of Friar Odoric and from a French work on the
  East, and only a small part contains first-hand
  information. Numerous manuscripts exist, in several
  languages. The English version is probably not the work of
  the original writer, but it is, nevertheless, regarded as
  a standard piece of mediæval English prose.

For as much as the land beyond the sea, that is to say, the Holy Land,
passing all other lands, is the most worthy land, most excellent, and
Lady and Sovereign of all other lands, and is blessed and hallowed of
the precious Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ; and that land He
chose before all other lands as the best and most worthy land, and the
most virtuous land of all the world; wherefore, every good Christian
man, that is of power, and hath whereof, should strive with all his
strength for to conquer our right heritage, and chase out all
misbelieving men. And for as much as many men desire to hear speak of
the Holy Land, I, John Mandeville, Knight, albeit I be not worthy, that
was born in England, in the town of Saint Albans, passed the sea, in the
year of our Lord Jesus Christ 1322, on the day of Saint Michael, and
hitherto have been a long time over the sea, and have seen and gone
through many divers lands. And I shall devise you some part of things
that there be, when time shall be, after it may best come to my mind;
and specially for them that are in purpose for to visit the Holy City of
Jerusalem, and I shall tell the way that they should hold thither. For I
have oftentimes passed and ridden that way, with good company of many
lords; God be thanked.

In the name of God, glorious and almighty, he that will pass over the
sea to go to the city of Jerusalem, if he come from the west side of the
world, as from England, he may and he will go through Almayne and
through the kingdom of Hungary, that marcheth to the land of Polayne.
And after go men to Belgrave and enter into the land of Bourgres, and
through the land of Pyncemartz, and come to Greece, and so to the city
of Constantynoble. And there dwelleth commonly the Emperor of Greece.
And there is the most fair church and the most noble of all the world;
and it is of Saint Sophie. From Constantynoble he that will go by water
goeth to an isle that is clept Sylo, and then to the isle of Patmos.

From Patmos men go into Ephesus, a fair city and nigh to the sea. And
there died Saint John, and was buried behind the high altar, in a tomb.
And in the tomb of Saint John is nought but manna, that is clept angels'
meat. For his body was translated into Paradise. And Turks hold now all
that place, and the city and the church. And all Asia the less is clept
Turkey. And ye shall understand that St. John made his grave there in
his life, and laid himself therein all quick. And therefore some men say
that he died not, but that he resteth there till the Day of Doom. And
forsooth there is a great marvel, for men may see there the earth of the
tomb apertly many times stir and move, as there were quick things under.

And from Ephesus men go through many isles in the sea, and to the isle
of Crete, and through the isles of Colos and of Lango, of the which
isles Ypocras was lord. And some men say that in the isle of Lango is
yet the daughter of Ypocras, in form and likeness of a great dragon that
is a hundred fathom of length, as men say, for I have not seen her. And
they of the isles call her Lady of the Land. And she lieth in an old
castle, in a cave, and showeth twice or thrice in the year. And she doth
none harm to no man but if man do her harm. And she was thus changed and
transformed from a fair damsel in the likeness of a dragon by a goddess
that was clept Diana. And men say that she shall so endure in the form
of a dragon unto the time that a knight come that is so hardy that dare
come to her and kiss her on the mouth; and then shall she turn again to
her own kind, and be a woman again, but after that she shall not live
long.

And it is not long since that a knight that was hardy and doughty in
arms said that he would kiss her. And when he was upon his courser and
went to the castle and entered into the cave, the dragon lifted up her
head against him. And when the knight saw her in that form so hideous
and so horrible, he fled away. And the dragon bore the knight upon a
rock, and from that rock she cast him into the sea; and so was lost both
horse and man.

Egypt is a long country, but it is strait, that is to say narrow, for
they may not enlarge it toward the desert, for default of water. And the
country is set along upon the river of Nile; by as much as that river
may serve by floods or otherwise, that when it floweth it may spread
through the country, so is the country large of length. For there it
raineth not but little in that country, and for that cause they have no
water but if it be of the flood of that river. And for as much as it
raineth not in that country, but the air is always pure and clear,
therefore in that country be they good astronomers, for they find there
no clouds to let them.

In Egypt is the city of Elyople, that is to say, the City of the Sun. In
that city there is a temple made round, after the shape of the Temple of
Jerusalem. The priests of that temple have all their writings under the
date of the fowl that is clept Phoenix; and there is none but one in
all the world. And he cometh to burn himself upon the altar of the
temple at the end of 500 years; for so long he liveth. And at the 500
years' end the priests array their altar honestly, and put thereupon
spices and sulphur and other things that will burn lightly. And then the
bird Phoenix cometh, and burneth himself to ashes. And the first day
next after men find in the ashes a worm; and the second day after men
find a bird quick and perfect; and the third day next after, he flieth
away.

And so there is no more birds of that kind in all the world but it
alone. And truly that is a great miracle of God, and men may well liken
that bird unto God; because that there is no God but one, and also that
our Lord arose from death to life the third day. This bird men see
oftentime flying in the countries; and he is not much greater than an
eagle. And he hath a crest of feathers upon his head more great than the
peacock hath; and his neck is yellow; and his back is coloured blue as
Ind; and his wings be of purple colour, and the tail is yellow and red.
And he is a full fair bird to look upon against the sun, for he shineth
fully gloriously and nobly.

From Egypt men may go by the Red Sea, and so by desert to the Mount of
Synay; and when they have visited the holy places nigh to it, then will
they turn toward Jerusalem. They shall see here the Holy Sepulchre,
where there is a full fair church, all round and open above and covered
with lead. And then they may go up to Golgatha by degrees, and they
shall see the Mount of Calvarie. Likewise they will behold the Temple of
our Lord; and many other blessed things all whereof I cannot tell nor
show him.


_II.--Of Strange Peoples and Strange Beasts in Divers Lands_

From the south coast of Chaldea is Ethiopia, a great country that
stretcheth to the end of Egypt. Ethiopia is departed in two principal
parts, and that is the East part and the Meridional part. And the folk
of that country are black, and more black than in the other part, and
they be clept Moors. In Ethiopia be folk that have but one foot, and
they go so fast that it is a marvel; and the foot is so large, that it
shadoweth all the body against the sun, when they will lie and rest
them. In that country when the children be young and little they be all
yellow, and when they wax of age that yellowness turneth to be all
black. And as men go forth towards Ind, they come to the city of
Polombe, and above the city is a great mountain.

And at the foot of that mount is a fair well and a great, that hath
odour and savour of all spices, and at every hour of the day he changeth
his odour and his savour diversely. And whoso drinketh three times
fasting of that water of that well he is whole of all manner of sickness
that he hath. And they that dwell there and drink often of that well
they never have sickness, and they seem always young. I have drunken of
it, and yet, methinketh, I fare the better. Some men call it the Well of
Youth, for they that often drink thereof seem always young and live
without sickness. And men say that that well cometh out of Paradise, and
that therefore it hath such virtue.

To that land go the merchants for spicery. And there men worship the ox
for his simpleness and for his meekness, and for the profit that cometh
of him. And they say that he is the holiest beast in the earth. For it
seemeth to them that whosoever is meek and patient he is holy and
profitable; for then they say he hath all virtues in him. They make
the ox to labour six years or seven, and then they eat him. And the king
of the country hath always an ox with him; and he that keepeth him hath
every day great fees.

Now shall I tell you of countries and isles that lie beyond those
countries that I have spoken of. Wherefore I tell you that in passing by
the land of Cathay toward the higher Ind, men pass by a kingdom that
they call Caldilhe, that is a full fair country. And there groweth a
manner of fruit, as it were gourds; and when they be ripe men cut them
in two, and men find within a little beast, in flesh, in bone and blood,
as though it were a little lamb without wool. And men eat both the fruit
and the beast, and that is a great marvel. Of that fruit I have eaten,
although it were wonderful; but that I know well that God is marvellous
in His works. And nevertheless, I told them of as great a marvel to them
that is among us; for I told them that in our country were trees that
bear a fruit that become birds flying, and those that fall into the
water live, and they that fall on the earth die anon; and they be right
good for man's meat. And thereof they also had great marvel, that some
of them trowed it were an impossible thing to be.

And beyond this land, men go towards the land of Bacharie, where be full
evil folk and full cruel.

In that land be trees that bear wool, as though it were of sheep;
whereof men make clothes, all things that may be made of wool. And there
be also many griffons, more plenty than in any other country. Some men
say that they have the body upward as an eagle and beneath as a lion;
and truly they say sooth that they be of that shape. But one griffon
hath the body more great and is more strong than eight lions; of such
lions as be of this half; and more great and stronger than a hundred
eagles such as we have amongst us. For one griffon there will bear,
flying to his nest, a great horse, or two oxen yoked together, as they
go at the plough. For he hath his talons so long and so large and great
upon his feet, as though they were horns of great oxen or of bugles or
of kine; so that men make cups of them, to drink of. From thence go men,
by many journeys, through the land of Prester John, the great Emperor of
Ind.


_III.--Of the Land of Prester John_

The Emperor Prester John holdeth a full great land, and hath many full
noble cities and good towns in his realm, and many great isles and
large. And he hath under him seventy-two provinces, and in every
province is a king. And these kings have kings under them, and all are
tributaries to Prester John. And he hath in his lordships many great
marvels. For in his country is the sea that men call the Gravelly Sea,
that is all gravel and sand without any drops of water; and it ebbeth
and floweth in great waves, as other seas do, and it is never still nor
in peace. And no man may pass that sea by navy, nor by no manner of
craft, and therefore may no man know what land is beyond that sea. And
albeit that it have no water, yet men find therein and on the banks full
good fish of other manner of kind and shape than men find in any other
sea; and they are of right good taste and delicious to man's meat.

In the same lordship of Prester John there is another marvellous thing.
There is a vale between two mountains, that dureth nigh on four miles;
and some call it the Vale of Devils, and some call it the Valley
Perilous. In that vale men hear often time great tempests and thunders
and great murmurs and noises all days and nights; and great noise, as it
were sown of tabors, and of trumpets, as though it were of a great
feast. This vale is all full of devils, and hath been always. And men
say there, that is one of the entries of hell. And in mid place of that
vale under a rock is a head and the visage of a devil bodily, full
horrible and dreadful to see, and it showeth not but the head to the
shoulders.

But there is no man in the world so hardy, Christian man nor other, but
that he would be in dread for to behold it and that he would be ready to
die for dread, so is it hideous for to behold. For he beholdeth every
man so sharply with dreadful eyes that be evermore moving and sparkling
as fire, and changeth and stareth so often in diverse manner with so
horrible countenance that no man dare come nigh him. And in that vale is
gold and silver and rich jewels great plenty. And I and my fellows
passed that way in great dread, and we saw much people slain. And we
entered fourteen persons, but at our going out we were but nine. And so
we wisten never whether that our fellows were lost or turned again for
dread.

But we came through that vale whole and living for that we were very
devout, for I was more devout then than ever I was before or after, and
all for the dread of fiends, that I saw in diverse figures. And I
touched none of the gold and silver that meseemed was there, lest it
were only there of the subtlety of the devils, and because I would not
be put out of my devotions. So God of His grace helped us, and so we
passed that perilous vale, without peril and without encumbrance,
thanked be Almighty God.

These things have I told, that men may know some of all those marvellous
things that I have seen in my way by land and sea. And now I, John
Mandeville, Knight, that have passed many lands and many isles and
countries, and searched many full strange places, and have been in many
a full good honourable company, and at many a fair deed of armes--albeit
that I did none myself, for mine unable insuffisance--now I am come
home--mawgree myself--to rest. And so I have written these things in
this book. Wherefore I pray to all the readers and hearers of this book
that they would pray to God for me. And I shall pray for them, and
beseech Almighty God to full fill their souls with inspiration of the
Holy Ghost, in saving them from all their enemies both of body and soul,
to the worship and thanking of Him that in perfect Trinity liveth and
reigneth God, in all worlds and in all times; Amen, Amen, Amen.




MUNGO PARK

Travels in the Interior of Africa


_I.--Up the Gambia_

  Mungo Park, who was born Sept. 20, 1771, on a farm near
  Selkirk, Scotland, and died in 1806 in Africa, will for
  ever be regarded as the most distinguished pioneer of the
  illustrious procession of African explorers. Trained as a
  surgeon at Edinburgh, in 1792 he undertook an adventurous
  exploration in the East Indies. In 1795 the African
  Association appointed him successor to Major Houghton, who
  had perished in seeking to trace the course of the Niger
  and to penetrate to Timbuctoo. He disappeared in the
  interior for eighteen months, and was given up for lost,
  but survived to tell the romantic story of his
  experiences. Returning to Scotland, Mungo Park married,
  but his passion for travel was irrepressible. In May,
  1805, he set out on another expedition, with an imposing
  party of over forty Europeans. The issue was disastrous.
  Park and his companions were ambushed and slain by
  treacherous natives while passing through a river gorge.
  His "Travels in the Interior of Africa" was published in
  1799, and has been frequently reprinted. Told in simple,
  unaffected style, the general accuracy of the narrative
  has never been questioned.

Soon after my return from the East Indies in 1793, having learnt that
noblemen and gentlemen associated for the purpose of prosecuting
discoveries in the interior of Africa were desirous of engaging a person
to explore that continent by way of the Gambia River, I took occasion,
through means of the president of the Royal Society, to whom I had the
honour of being known, of offering myself for that service. I had a
passionate desire to examine into the productions of a country so little
known. I knew I was able to bear fatigue, and relied on my youth and
strength of constitution to preserve me from the effects of climate.

The committee accepted me for the service, and their kindness supplied
me with all that was necessary. I took my passage in the brig Endeavour,
a small brig trading to the Gambia for beeswax and honey, commanded by
Captain Richard Wyatt. My instructions were very plain and concise. I
was directed, on my arrival in Africa, to pass on to the River Niger,
either by way of Bambouk, or by such other route as should be found most
convenient; that I should ascertain the course, and, if possible, the
rise and termination of that river; that I should use my utmost
exertions to visit the principal towns or cities in its neighbourhood,
particularly Timbuctoo and Houssa.

We sailed from Portsmouth on May 22, 1795; on June 4 saw the mountains
over Mogadore on the coast of Africa; and on June 22 anchored at
Jillifree, a town on the northern bank of the River Gambia, opposite to
James's Island, where the English formerly had a small port. The kingdom
of Barra, in which the town of Jillifree is situated, produces great
plenty of the necessaries of life; but the chief trade is in salt, which
they carry up the river in canoes as high as Barraconda, and bring down
in return Indian corn, cotton cloths, elephants' teeth, small quantities
of gold dust, etc.

On June 23 we proceeded to Vintain, two miles up a creek on the southern
side of the river, much resorted to by Europeans on account of the great
quantities of beeswax brought hither for sale. The wax is collected in
the woods by the Feloops, a wild and unsociable race of people, who in
their trade with Europeans generally employ a factor or agent of the
Mandingo nation. This broker, who speaks a little English, and is
acquainted with the trade of the river, receives certain part only of
the payment, which he gives to his employer as a whole. The
remainder--which is very truly called the "cheating money"--he receives
when the Feloop is gone, and appropriates to himself as a reward for his
trouble.

On June 26 we left Vintain, and continued our course up the deep and
muddy river. The banks are covered with impenetrable thickets of
mangrove, and the whole of the adjacent country appears to be flat and
swampy. At the entrance of the Gambia from the sea sharks abound, and
higher up alligators and hippopotami. In six days after leaving Vintain
we reached Jonkakonda, a place of considerable trade, where our vessel
was to take in part of her lading. Dr. Laidley, a gentleman who had
resided many years at an English factory on the Gambia, to whom I had a
letter of recommendation, came to invite me to his house, to remain
there till an opportunity should offer of prosecuting my journey. I set
out for Pisania, a small village in the dominions of the King of Yany,
and arrived there on July 5, and was accommodated in the doctor's home.

On this occasion I was referred to certain traders called slatees. These
are free black merchants, of great consideration in this region, who
come down from the interior chiefly with enslaved negroes for sale. But
I soon found that very little dependence could be placed on their
descriptions. They contradicted each other in the most important
particulars, and all of them seemed most unwilling that I should
prosecute my journey.

The country is a uniform and monotonous level, but is of marvellous
fertility. Grain and rice are raised in great abundance, besides which
the inhabitants in the vicinity of the towns and villages have gardens
which produce onions, calavances, yams, cassava, ground-nuts, pompions,
gourds, watermelons, and other esculent plants. I observed also near the
towns small patches of cotton and indigo.

The chief wild animals are the antelope, hyæna, panther, and the
elephant. When I told some of the inhabitants how the natives of India
tame and use the elephant, they laughed me to scorn, and exclaimed,
"Tobaubo fonnio!" (white man's lie). The negroes hunt the elephant
chiefly for the sake of the teeth. The flesh they eat, and consider it a
great delicacy. The ass is the usual beast of burden in all the negro
territories. Animal labour is nowhere applied to purposes of
agriculture; the plough, therefore, is wholly unknown.

As the Slatees and others composing the caravans seemed unwilling to
further my purpose, I resolved to avail myself of the dry season and
proceed without them. Dr. Laidley approved my determination, and with
his help I made preparations.


_II.--Penetrating the Wild Interior_

The kingdom of Kajaaga, in which I now commenced to travel, is bounded
on the south-east and south by Bambouk, on the west by Bondou, and on
the north by the River Senegal. The people, who are jet black, are
called Serawoollies. They are habitually a trading tribe. Arriving in
December at Joag, the frontier town, we took up our residence at the
house of the chief man, who is called the dooty. My fellow-travellers
were ten dealers, forming a little caravan, bound for the Gambia. Their
asses were loaded with ivory, the large teeth being conveyed in nets,
two on each side of the ass; the small ones are wrapped up in skins and
secured with ropes.

Journeying by easy stages from place to place, I at length arrived at
the important town of Jarra, which is situated in the Moorish kingdom of
Ludamar. The greater part of the inhabitants are negroes, who prefer a
precarious protection from the Moors, which they purchase by a tribute,
rather than continued exposure to their predatory hostilities. Of the
origin of these Moorish tribes nothing further seems to be known than
that before the Arabian conquest, about the middle of the seventh
century, all the inhabitants of Africa, whether they were descended from
Numidians, Phoenic-ians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, or Goths,
were comprehended under the general name of _Mauri_, or Moors. All these
nations were converted to the religion of Mahomet during the Arabian
empire under the caliphs.

The Moors, who are widely spread over the African continent, are a
subtle and treacherous race. They take every opportunity of cheating and
plundering the credulous and unsuspecting negroes.

On my arrival at Jarra, I obtained a lodging at the house of Daman
Jumma, a Gambia slatee, who owed money to Dr. Laidley, from whom I had
an order on him for the money, to the amount of six slaves. But he said
he was afraid he could not in his present situation pay more than the
value of two slaves. However, he gave me his aid in exchanging my beads
and amber for gold, which was a portable article, and more easily
concealed from the Moors.

Difficulties speedily arose. The unsettled state of the country from
recent wars, and, above all, the overbearing deportment of the Moors, so
completely frightened my attendants that they declared they would
relinquish every claim to reward rather than proceed a step farther
eastward. Indeed the danger they incurred of being seized by the Moors
and sold into slavery became more apparent every day. Thus I could not
condemn their apprehensions.

In this situation, deserted by my attendants, with a Moorish country of
ten days' journey before me, I applied to Daman to obtain permission
from Ali, the chief or sovereign of Ludamar, that I might pass
unmolested through his territory, and I hired one of Daman's slaves to
accompany me as soon as the permit should arrive. I sent Ali a present
of five garments of cotton cloth, which I purchased of Daman for one of
my fowling-pieces. Fourteen days elapsed, and then one of Ali's slaves
arrived with directions, as he pretended, to conduct me in safety as
far as Goomba. He told me that I was for this service to pay him one
garment of blue cotton cloth. Things being adjusted, we set out from
Jarra, and, after a toilsome journey of three days, came to Deena, a
large town, where the Moors are in greater proportion to the negroes
than at Jarra. Assembling round the hut of the negro where I lodged, the
Moors treated me with the greatest insolence. They hissed, shouted, and
abused me; they even spat in my face, with a view to irritate me and
afford a pretext for seizing my baggage. Finding such insults had not
the desired effect, they had recourse to the final argument that I was a
Christian, and that, of course, my property was lawful plunder to the
followers of Mahomet.

Accordingly they opened my bundles and robbed me of everything they
fancied. My attendants refused to go farther, and I resolved to proceed
alone rather than to pause longer among these insolent Moors. At two the
next morning I departed from Deene. It was moonlight, but the roaring of
wild beasts made it necessary to proceed with caution. Two negroes,
altering their minds, followed me and overtook me, in order to attend
me. On the road we observed immense quantities of locusts, the trees
being quite black with them.


_III--Romantic Savage Life_

Arriving at Dalli, we found a dance proceeding in front of the dooty's
house. It was a feast day. Informed that a white man was in the place,
the performers stopped their dance and came to the spot where I was,
walking in order, two by two, following the musician, who played on a
curious sort of flute. Then they danced and sang till midnight, crowds
surrounding me where I sat. The next day, our landlord, proud of the
honour of entertaining a white man, insisted on my staying with him and
his friends till the cool of the evening, when he said he would conduct
me to the next village. I was now within two days of Goombia, had no
apprehensions from the Moors, accepted the invitation, and spent the
forenoon very pleasantly with these poor negroes. Their company was the
more acceptable as the gentleness of their manners presented a striking
contrast to the rudeness and barbarity of the Moors. They enlivened
their conversation by drinking a fermented liquor made from corn. Better
beer I never tasted in England.

In the midst of this harmless festivity I flattered myself that all
danger from the Moors was over, and fancy had already placed me on the
banks of the Niger, when a party of Moors entered the hut, and dispelled
the golden dream. They said that they came by Ali's orders to convey me
to his camp at Benown. If I went peaceably, they told me, I had nothing
to fear; but if I refused, they had orders to bring me by force. I was
struck dumb by surprise and terror, which the Moors observing, repeated
that I had nothing to fear. They added that the visit was occasioned by
the curiosity of Ali's wife, Fatima, who had heard so much about
Christians that she was very anxious to see one. We reached Benown after
a journey in great heat of four days, during which I suffered much from
thirst. Ali's camp consisted of a great number of dirty-looking tents,
amongst which roamed large herds of camels, sheep, and goats.

My arrival was no sooner observed than the people who drew water at the
wells threw down their buckets, those in the tents mounted their horses,
and men, women, and children came running or galloping towards me. At
length we reached the king's tent. Ali was an old Arab, with a long,
white beard, of sullen and indignant aspect. He surveyed me with
attention, and seemed much surprised when informed that I could not
speak Arabic. He continued silent, but the surrounding attendants,
especially the ladies, were abundantly inquisitive, and asked a thousand
questions. They searched my pockets, inspected every part of my apparel,
and even counted my fingers and toes, as if doubtful whether I was in
truth a human being.

I was submitted to much irritation and insult by the Moors in the camp,
and never did any period of my life pass away so heavily as my sojourn
there. The Moors are themselves very indolent, but are rigid taskmasters
over those who are under them.

Ali sent to inform me that there were many thieves in the neighbourhood,
and that to prevent my things from being stolen it was necessary to
convey them all to his tent. So my clothes, instruments, and everything
belonging to me were carried away. To make sure of everything, he sent
people the next morning to examine whether I had anything concealed on
my person. They stripped me with the utmost rudeness of all my gold,
amber, my watch, and pocket-compass. The gold and amber were gratifying
to Moorish avarice, but the compass was an object of superstitious
curiosity.


_IV.--The Long Sought for Niger_

It is impossible to describe my joy when, after being three months in
captivity, I succeeded in effecting my escape. Arduous days of
travelling lay before me, and after many weeks of endurance and fatigue,
I saw with infinite pleasure the great object of my mission--the
long-sought-for, majestic Niger, glittering in the morning sun, as broad
as the Thames at Westminster, and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I
hastened to the brink, drank of the water, and lifted up my fervent
thanks in prayer to the Great Ruler of all things for having thus far
crowned my endeavours with success.

I waited more than two hours without having an opportunity of crossing
the river, during which time the people who had crossed carried
information to Mansong, the king, that a white man was waiting for a
passage, and was coming to see him. He immediately sent over one of his
chief men, who informed me that the king could not possibly see me till
he knew what had brought me to his country, and that I must not presume
to cross the river without the king's permission.

He therefore advised me to lodge at a distant village, to which he
pointed, for the night, and said that in the morning he would give me
further instructions how to conduct myself. This was very discouraging.
However, as there was no remedy, I set off for the village, where I
found, to my great mortification, that no person would admit me into his
house. I was regarded with astonishment and fear, and was obliged to sit
all day without victuals in the shade of a tree.

The next day a messenger arrived from Mansong, with a bag in his hand.
He told me it was the king's pleasure that I should depart forthwith
from the district, but that Mansong, wishing to relieve a white man in
distress, had sent me 5,000 cowries, to enable me to purchase provisions
in the course of my journey. The messenger added that, if my intentions
were really to proceed to Jenné, he had orders to accompany me as a
guide to Sansanding. I was at first puzzled to account for this
behaviour of the king, but from the conversation I had with the guide, I
had afterwards reason to believe that Mansong would willingly have
admitted me to his presence at Sego, but was apprehensive he would not
be able to protect me against the blind and inveterate malice of the
Moorish inhabitants.

His conduct was, therefore, at once prudent and liberal. The
circumstances under which I made my appearance were undoubtedly such as
might create in the mind of the king a well-warranted suspicion that I
wished to conceal the true object of my journey.

In the countries that I visited the population is not very great,
considering the extent and fertility of the soil and the ease with which
the lands are obtained. I found many extensive and beautiful districts
entirely destitute of inhabitants. Many places are unfavourable to
population, from being unhealthful. The swampy banks of the Gambia, the
Senegal, and other rivers towards the coast, are of this description.
The negro nations possess a wonderful similarity of disposition. The
Mandingoes, in particular, are a very gentle race; cheerful in their
disposition, inquisitive, incredulous, simple, and fond of flattery.
Perhaps the most prominent defect in their character is the propensity
to theft, which in their estimation is no crime. On the other hand, it
is impossible for me to forget the disinterested charity and tender
solicitude with which many of these poor heathens, from the sovereign of
Sego to the poor women who received me at different times into their
cottages when I was perishing of hunger sympathised with me in my
distresses, and contributed to my safety.

On my return to Pisania, Dr. Laidley received me with great joy and
satisfaction, as one risen from the dead. No European vessel had arrived
at Gambia for many months previous to my return from the interior. But
on June 15 the ship Charlestown, an American vessel, commanded by Mr.
Charles Harris, entered the river. She came for slaves, intending to
touch at Goree to fill up, and to proceed from thence to South Carolina.
This afforded me an opportunity of returning, though by a circuitous
route, to my native country. I therefore immediately engaged my passage
in his vessel for America. I disembarked at St. John's, and there took
passage to Antigua, where, catching the mail-packet for Falmouth, I
reached that port on December 22, having been absent from England two
years and seven months.




MARCO POLO

Travels


_I.--The Beginnings of a Romantic Career_

  Marco Polo stands out in history and literature as the
  most famous traveller belonging to the early mediæval
  period. He was born at Venice in 1254. In 1271, his father
  and uncle, Venetian merchants, set out on a long and
  romantic Oriental journey, taking with them young Marco,
  who now began the amazing career chronicled in his book.
  Everywhere he made copious notes of his observations, and
  his curious records, so astonishing as to meet with little
  credence during the Middle Ages, have been so far
  confirmed as to demonstrate his absolute fidelity to facts
  as he saw them, and to such traditions as were
  communicated to him, however fantastic. Returning to
  Venice in 1295, three years later he fought in his own
  galley at Curzola, but on the defeat of the Venetians by
  the Genoese he was taken captive and flung into a fortress
  at Genoa. This captivity, which lasted a year, is
  memorable as being the cause of bringing about the record
  of his extraordinary experiences in the East. "The Travels
  of Marco Polo, a Venetian," consists essentially of two
  parts--first, the author's personal narrative; second, his
  description of the provinces and states and the peoples of
  Asia during the latter half of the thirteenth century.

In the middle of the thirteenth century, two merchants of Venice, Nicolo
and Maffeo Polo, voyaged with a rich cargo of merchandise, in their own
ship, to Constantinople, and thence to the Black Sea. From the Crimea
they travelled on horseback into Western Tartary, where they resided in
business for a year, gaining by their politic behaviour the cordial
friendship of the paramount chief of the tribes, named Barka.

Prevented from returning to Europe through the outbreak of a tribal war
in Tartary, the travellers proceeded to Bokhara, where they stayed three
years. Here they made the acquaintance of the ambassador of the famous
Kublai Khan. This potentate is called the "grand khan," or supreme
prince of all the Tartar tribes. The ambassador invited the merchants to
visit his master. Acceding to his request, they set out on the difficult
journey, and on reaching their destination were cordially received by
Kublai, for they were the first persons from Italy who had ever arrived
in his dominions. He begged them to take with them to their country a
commissioner from himself to the Pope of Rome. The result was
unfortunate, for the commissioner fell ill on the way through Tartary in
a few days, and was left behind. At Acre, the travellers heard that Pope
Clement IV. was dead. Arrived at Venice, Nicolo Polo found that his wife
had died soon after his departure in giving birth to a son, the Marco of
this history, who was now fifteen years of age.

Waiting for two years in Venice, the election of a new pope being
delayed by successive obstacles, and fearing that the grand khan would
be disappointed or might despair of their return, they set out again for
the East, taking with them young Marco Polo. But at Jerusalem they heard
of the accession to the pontifical throne of Gregory X., and hastened
back to Italy. The new pope welcomed them with great honour, furnished
them with credentials, and commissioned to accompany them to the East
two friars of great learning and talent, Fra Guglielmo da Tripoli and
Fra Nicolo da Vicenza. The party, entrusted with handsome presents from
the pontiff to the grand khan, voyaged forth, and reached Armenia to
find that region embroiled in war. The two friars, in terror, returned
to the coast under the care of certain knight templars; but the three
Venetians, accustomed to danger, continued their journey, which, on
account of slow winter progress, lasted altogether three and a half
years.

Kublai had removed to a splendid city named Cle Men Fu [near where
Peking now stands], and, on arriving, a gracious reception awaited the
three merchants, who narrated events and delivered the messages from
Rome with the papal presents. Taking special notice of young Marco, the
grand khan enrolled him among his attendants of honour. Marco soon
became proficient in four languages, and displayed such extraordinary
talents that he was sent on a mission to Karazan, a city six months'
journey distant. On this mission he distinguished himself by his tact
and success, and during the seventeen years spent in the service of the
khan executed many similar tasks in every part of the empire.

The Venetians remained many years at the Tartar court, and at length,
after amassing much wealth, felt constrained to return home. They were
permitted to depart, taking with them, at the khan's request, a maiden
named Kogatin, of seventeen, a relative of the khan, whom they were to
conduct to the court of Arghun, a sovereign in India, to become his
wife.

The travellers were not fortunate, for they were compelled, through
fresh wars among the Tartar princes, to return. But about this time
Marco Polo happened to arrive after a long voyage in the East Indies,
giving a most favourable report of the safety of the seas he had
navigated. Accordingly, it was arranged that the party should go by sea;
and fourteen ships were prepared, each having four masts and nine sails,
and some crews of over 200 men. On these embarked the three Venetians,
the Indian ambassadors, and the queen. In three months Java was reached,
and India in eighteen more.

On landing, the travellers learned that the King of Arghun had died some
time before, and his son Kiakato was reigning in his stead, and that the
lady was to be presented to Kiasan, another son, then on the borders of
Persia guarding the frontier with an army of 60,000. This was done, and
then the party returned to the residence, and there rested nine months
before taking their leave. While on their way they heard of the death of
Kublai, this intelligence putting an end to their plan of revisiting
those regions. Pursuing, therefore, their intended route, they at length
reached Trebizonde, whence they proceeded to Negropont, and finally to
Venice, at which place, in the enjoyment of health and abundant riches,
they safely arrived in the year 1295, and offered thanks to God, Who had
preserved them from innumerable perils.

The foregoing record enables the reader to judge of the opportunities
Marco Polo had of acquiring a knowledge of the things he describes
during a residence of many years in the eastern parts of the world.


_II.--Legends of Ancient Persia_

Persia was anciently a great province, but it is now in great part
destroyed by the Tartars. From the city called Saba came the three magi
who adored Christ at Bethlehem. They are buried in Saba, and are all
three entire with their beards and hair. They were Baldasar, Gaspar, and
Melchior. After three days' journey you come to Palasata, the castle of
the fire-worshippers. The people say that the three magi, when they
adored Christ, were by Him presented with a closed box, which they
carried with them for several days, and then, being curious to see what
it contained, were constrained to open. In it was a stone signifying
that they should remain firm to the faith they had received.

Thinking themselves deluded, they threw the stone into a pit, whence
instantly fire flamed forth. Bitterly repenting, they took home with
them some of the fire, and placed it in a church, where it is adored as
a god, the sacrifices all being performed before it. Therefore, the
people of Persia worship fire.

In the north of Persia the people tell of the Old Man of the Mountain.
He was named Alo-eddin, and was a Moslem. In a lovely valley he had
planted a magnificent garden and built a cluster of gorgeous palaces,
supplied by means of conduits with streams of wine, milk, honey, and
pure water. Beautiful girls, skilled in music and dancing, and richly
dressed, were among the inhabitants of this retreat.

The chief object of Alo-eddin in forming this fascinating garden was to
persuade his followers that, as Mahomet had promised to the Moslems the
enjoyments of Paradise, with every species of sensual gratification, so
he was also a prophet and the compeer of Mahomet, and had the power of
admitting to Paradise whom he pleased. An impregnable castle guarded the
entrance to the enchanting valley, the entrance to this being through a
secret passage.

At his court this chief entertained many youths, selected from the
people of the mountains for their apparent courage and martial
disposition. To these he daily preached on Paradise and his prerogative
of granting admission; and at certain times he caused opium to be
administered to a dozen of the youths, who, when half dead with sleep,
were conveyed to apartments in the palaces in the gardens. On awakening,
each person found himself surrounded by lovely damsels, who sang,
played, served delicate viands and exquisite wines, till the youth,
intoxicated with excess of enjoyment, believed himself assuredly in
Paradise, and felt unwilling to quit it.

After four or five days the youths were again thrown into somnolency and
carried out of the garden; and when asked by Alo-eddin where they had
been, declared that by his favour they had been in Paradise, the whole
court listening with amazement to their recital. The consequence was
that his followers were so devoted to his service that if any
neighbouring chiefs or princes gave him umbrage they were put to death
by these disciplined assassins, and his tyranny made him dreaded
through all the surrounding provinces. He employed people to rob
travellers in their passage through his country. At length the grand
khan grew weary of hearing of his atrocious practices, and an army was
sent in the year 1262 to besiege him in his castle. It was so strong
that it held out for three years, until Alo-eddin was forced through
lack of provisions to surrender, and was put to death. Thus perished the
Old Man of the Mountain.


_III.--Of the Tartars and their Grand Khan_

Now that I have begun speaking of the Tartars, I will tell you more
about them. They never remain long anywhere, but when winter approaches
remove to the plains of a warmer region, in order to find sufficient
pasture for their cattle. Their flocks and herds are multitudinous.
Their tents are formed of rods covered with felt, and being exactly
round, and nicely put together, they can gather them together into one
bundle, and make them up as packages to carry about. When they set them
up again, they always make the entrance front the south.

Their travelling-cars are drawn by oxen and camels. The women do all the
business of trading, buying, and selling, and provide everything
necessary for their husbands and families, the time of the men being
entirely devoted to hunting, hawking, and matters that relate to
military life. They have the best falcons and also the best dogs in the
world. They subsist entirely on flesh and milk, consuming horses,
camels, dogs, and animals of every description. They drink mares' milk,
preparing it so that it has the qualities and flavour of white wine, and
this beverage they call kemurs.

The Tartars believe in a supreme deity, to whom they offer incense and
prayers; while they also worship another, called Natigay, whose image,
covered with felt, is kept in every house. This god, who has a wife and
children, and who, they consider, presides over their terrestrial
concerns, protects their children, and guards their cattle and grain.
They show him great respect, and at their meals they never omit to take
a fat morsel of the flesh, and with it to grease the mouth of the idol.

Rich Tartars dress in cloth of gold and silks, with skins of the sable,
the ermine, and other animals. All their accoutrements are of the most
expensive kind. They are specially skilful in the use of the bow, and
they are very brave in battle, but are cruel in disposition. Their
martial qualities and their wonderful powers of endurance make them
fitted to subdue the world, as, in fact, they have done with regard to a
considerable portion of it.

When these Tartars engage in battle they never mingle with the enemy,
but keep hovering about him, discharging their arrows first from one
side, and then from the other, occasionally pretending to fly, and
during their flight shooting arrows backwards at their pursuers, killing
men and horses as if they were combating face to face. In this sort of
warfare the adversary imagines he has gained a victory, when in fact he
has lost the battle. For the Tartars, observing the mischief they have
done him, wheel about, and renewing the fight, overpower his remaining
troops, and make them prisoners in spite of their utmost exertions.

Kublai is the sixth grand khan, and began his reign as grand khan in the
year 1246, and commenced his reign as Emperor of China in 1280. It is
forty-two years since he began his reign in Tartary to the present year,
1288, and he is fully eighty-five years of age. It was his ancestor,
Jengiz, who assumed the title of khan. Kublai is considered the most
able and successful commander that ever led the Tartars to battle. He it
was who completed the conquest of China by subduing the southern
provinces and destroying the ancient dynasty. After this period he
ceased to take the field in person. His last campaign was against
rebels, of whom there were many both in Cathay and Manji [North and
South China].

The Tartars date the beginning of their year from the beginning of
February, and it is their custom on that occasion to dress in white.
Great numbers of beautiful white horses are presented to the grand khan.
On the day of the White Feast all his elephants, amounting to five
thousand, are exhibited in procession, covered with rich housings. It is
a time of splendid ceremonials, and of most sumptuous feasting. During
the amusements a lion is conducted into the presence of his majesty, so
tame that it is taught to lay itself down at his feet.

The grand khan has many leopards and lynxes kept for the purpose of
chasing deer, and also many lions, which are larger than the Babylonian
lions, and are active in seizing boars, wild oxen, and asses, stags,
roebucks, and of other animals that are objects of sport. It is an
admirable sight, when the lion is let loose in pursuit of the animal, to
observe the savage eagerness and speed with which he overtakes it. His
majesty has them conveyed for this purpose in cages placed on cars, and
along with them is confined a little dog, with which they become
familiarised. The grand khan has eagles also, which are trained to stoop
at wolves, and such is their size and strength that none, however large,
can escape from their talons.

Before we proceed further we shall speak of a memorable battle that was
fought in the kingdom of Yun-chang. When the king of Mien [Burma] heard
that an army of Tartars had arrived at Yun-chang, he resolved to attack
it, in order that by its destruction the grand khan might be deterred
from again attempting to station a force on the borders of his
dominions.

For this purpose he assembled a very large army, including a multitude
of elephants (an animal with which the country abounds), on whose backs
were placed battlements, or castles of wood, capable of containing to
the number of twelve or sixteen in each. With these, and a numerous army
of horse and foot, he took the road to Yun-chang, where the grand khan's
army lay, and encamping at no great distance from it, intended to give
his troops a few days of rest.

The Tartars, chiefly by their wonderful skill in archery, inflicted a
terrible defeat on their foes; and the King of Mien, though he fought
with the most undaunted courage, was compelled to flee, leaving the
greater part of his troops killed or wounded.

In the northern parts of the world there dwell many Tartars, under a
chief of the name of Kaidu, nearly related to Kublai, the grand khan.
These Tartars are idolaters. They possess vast herds of horses, cows,
sheep, and other domestic animals. In these northern districts are found
prodigious white bears, black foxes, wild asses in great numbers, and
swarms of sables and martens. During the long and severe winters the
Tartars travel in sledges drawn by great dogs.

Beyond the country of these northern Tartars is another region, which
extends to the utmost bounds of the north, and is called the Region of
Darkness, because during most part of the winter months the sun is
invisible, and the atmosphere is obscured to the same degree as that in
which we find it just about the dawn of day, when we may be said to see
and not to see. The intellects of the people are dull, and they have an
air of stupidity. The Tartars often proceed on plundering expeditions
against them, to rob them of their cattle and goods, availing themselves
for this purpose of those months in which the darkness prevails.


_IV.--Of Ceylon and Malabar_

The island of Zeilan [Ceylon] is better circumstanced than any other in
the world. It is governed by a king named Sendernaz. The people worship
idols, and are independent of every other state. Both men and women go
nearly nude. Their food is milk, rice, and flesh, and they drink wine
drawn from trees. Here is the best sappan-wood that can anywhere be met
with.

The island produces more beautiful and valuable rubies than can be found
in any other part of the world, and also many other precious stones. The
king is reported to possess the grandest ruby that ever was seen, being
a span in length, and the thickness of a man's arm, brilliant beyond
description, and without a single flaw. The grand khan, Kublai, sent
ambassadors to this monarch, with a request that he would yield to him
possession of this ruby; in return for which he should receive the value
of a city. The answer was that he would not sell it for all the treasure
of the universe. The grand khan, therefore, failed to acquire it.

Leaving the island of Zeilan, you reach the great province of Malabar,
which is part of the continent of the greater India, the noblest and
richest country in the world. It is governed by four kings, of whom the
principal is named Sender-bandi. Within his district is a fishery for
pearls. The pearl oysters are brought up in bags by divers. The king
wears many jewels of immense value, and among them is a fine silken
string containing one hundred and four splendid pearls and rubies. He
has at least a thousand wives and concubines, and when he sees a woman
whose beauty pleases him, he immediately signifies his desire to possess
her. The heat of the country is excessive, and on that account the
people go naked.

In this kingdom, and also throughout India, all the beasts and birds
are unlike those of our own country. There are bats as large as
vultures, and vultures as black as crows, and much larger than ours.

In the province of Malabar is the body of St. Thomas the Apostle, who
there suffered martyrdom. It rests in a small city to which vast numbers
of Christians and Saracens resort. The latter regard him as a great
prophet, and name him Ananias, signifying a holy personage.

In the year 1288 a powerful prince of the country, who at the time of
harvest had accumulated as his portion an enormous quantity of rice, and
whose granaries could not hold the vast store, used for that purpose a
religious house belonging to the church of St. Thomas, although the
guardians of the shrine begged him not thus to occupy the place. He
persisted, and on the next night the holy apostle appeared to him,
holding a small lance in his hand, which he held at his throat,
threatening him with a miserable death if he should not immediately
evacuate the house. The prince awoke in terror, and obeyed.

Various miracles are daily wrought here through the interposition of the
blessed saint. The Christians who have the care of the church possess
groves of cocoanut-trees, and from these derive the means of
subsistence. The death of this most holy apostle took place thus. Having
retired to a hermitage, where he was engaged in prayer, and being
surrounded by a number of peafowls, with which bird the country abounds,
an idolater who happened to be passing, and did not perceive the holy
man, shot an arrow at a peacock, which struck St. Thomas in the side. He
only had time to thank the Lord for all His mercies, and into His hands
resigned his spirit.

In the kingdom of Musphili [Solconda], which you enter upon leaving
Malabar after proceeding five hundred miles northward, are the best and
most honourable merchants that can be found. No consideration whatever
can induce them to speak an untruth. They have also an abhorrence of
robbery, and are likewise remarkable for the virtue of continence, being
satisfied with the possession of one wife. The Brahmins are
distinguished by a certain badge, consisting of a thick cotton thread
passed over the shoulder and tied under the arm.

The people are gross idolaters, and much addicted to sorcery and
divination. When they are about to make a purchase of goods, they
observe the shadow cast by their own bodies in the sunshine, and if the
shadow be as large as it should be, they make the purchase that day.
Moreover, when they are in a shop for the purchase of anything, if they
see a tarantula, of which there are many there, they take notice from
which side it comes, and regulate their business accordingly. Again, if
they are going out of their houses and they hear anyone sneeze they
return to the house and stay at home.




BERNARDIN DE SAINT PIERRE

Voyage to the Isle of France


_I.--Miseries of Slavery_

  In 1768 Bernardin de Saint Pierre (see FICTION) was sent
  out to Mauritius, which was then a French colony called
  the Isle of France, to fortify it against the English. He
  found it was not worth fortifying, and, after an absence
  of three years, he returned to France, and in 1773
  published his famous "Voyage to the Isle of France," and
  thereby made his name. It gave him a position similar to
  that which Defoe occupies in England, for by means of it
  he introduced into French literature the exotic element
  which he afterwards expanded in "Paul and Virginia." He
  was the first French writer of genius to apply the art of
  description in depicting the life and scenery of
  far-distant lands. Finally, it is interesting to remark on
  the general change which has taken place in the treatment
  of subject native races since the time when Saint Pierre
  wrote, even though such atrocities as came to light in the
  recent Congo scandal may be still burning themselves out
  in isolated instances.

PORT LOUIS, _August 6, 1768_. The Isle of France was discovered by a
Portuguese, and taken over by the Dutch; but they abandoned it in 1712,
and settled at the Cape of Good Hope, and the French then took
possession of it.

The island was a desert when we took it over, and the first settlers
were a few honest, simple farmers from our colony of Bourbon, who lived
together very happily until 1760, when the English drove us out of
India. Then, like a flood, all the scoundrels, rogues and broken men
hunted from our Indian possessions, invaded the island and threw
everything into disorder and ruin. Everybody is envious and
discontented; everybody wishes to make a fortune at once and depart. And
this is an island with no commerce and scarcely any agriculture, where
the only money found is paper money! Yet they all say they will be rich
enough to return to France in a year's time. They have been saying this
for many years. Everything is in a state of squalid neglect. The streets
are neither paved nor planted with trees; the houses are merely tents of
wood, moved from place to place on rollers; the windows have no glass
and no curtains, and it is rare that one finds within even a few poor
pieces of furniture.

There are only four hundred farmers. The rest of the white population
are mainly idlers, who gather together in the square from noon till
evening and pass away the time in gambling and scandalmongering. The
work of agriculture is carried on by black slaves imported from
Madagascar. They can be got in exchange for a gun or a roll of cloth,
and the dearest does not cost more than seven pounds. They are compelled
to work from sunrise to sunset, and they are given nothing to eat but
mashed maize boiled in water, and tapioca bread. At the least negligence
the skin is scourged from their body. The women are punished in the same
manner. Sometimes when they are old they are left to starve to death.
Every day during my sojourn in the Isle of France I have seen black men
and black women lashed hands and feet to a ladder and flogged for having
forgot to shut a door or for breaking a bit of pottery. I have seen them
bleeding all over, and having their wounded bodies rubbed with vinegar
and salt. I have seen them speechless with excess of pain; I have seen
some of them bite the iron cannon on which they have been bound.

I do not know if coffee and sugar are necessary to the happiness of
Europe, but I know well that these two vegetables are a source of misery
to the inhabitants of two continents of the world. We are dispeopling
America in order to have a land to grow them; we are dispeopling Africa
in order to have a nation to cultivate them. There are 20,000 black
slaves on the Isle of France, but they die so fast that, in order to
keep up their number, 1,200 more have to be imported every year.

I am very sorry that our philosophers who attack abuses with so much
courage have hardly spoken of the slavery of the black races, except to
make a jest of it. They have eyes only for things very remote. They
speak of St. Bartholomew, of the massacre of the Mexicans by the
Spaniards, as if this crime was not one committed now by the half of
Europe. Oh, ye men who dream of republics, see how your own people
misuse the authority entrusted to them! See your colonies streaming with
human blood! The men who shed it are men of your stamp; they talk like
you, they talk of humanity, they read the books of our philosophers, and
they exclaim against despotism; but when they get any power they show
that they are really brutes. In a country of so corrupt a morality an
absolute government is necessary. The excesses of a single tyrant are
preferable to the crimes and the injustices of a whole people.


_II.--A Land of Beauty and Abominations_

PORT LOUIS, _September 13, 1769_. An officer proposed to make a walking
tour round the island with me, but when the time came to set out he
excused himself, so I resolved to go alone. But knowing that I should
often have to camp out in the woods alone, I took two negroes with me to
carry provisions, and I armed myself with a double-barrel gun and a
couple of pistols, for fear I should encounter one of the bands of
runaway slaves that hide in the deserted part of the island.

Striking out through the plains of Saint Pierre, we walked for four days
along the seashore, with the dense and silent forest on our left hand.
On crossing the black river I came to the last farm on this part of the
coast. It was a long hut, formed of stakes and covered with palm leaves.
There was only one room. In the middle of it was the kitchen; at one
extremity were the stores and the sleeping places of the eight black
slaves; the other end was the farmer's bed; a hen was setting on some
eggs on the counterpane, and some ducks were living beneath the bed, and
around the leafy wall pigeons had made their nests. In this miserable
hut I was surprised to find a very beautiful woman. She was a young
Frenchwoman, born, like her husband, of a good family. They had come to
the island some years ago in the hope of making a fortune; they had left
their parents, their friends, and their native land, to pass their lives
in this wild and lonely place, from which one could see only the empty
sea and the grim precipices of a desolate mountain. But the air of
contentment and goodness of this young and lovely mother of a growing
family seemed to make everybody around her happy. When evening came she
invited me to share a simple, but neatly-served supper. The meal
appeared to me an exceedingly pleasant one. I was given as a bed-room a
little tent built of wood, about a hundred steps away from the log
cabin. As the door had not been put up, I closed the opening with
planks, and loaded my gun and pistols; for the forest all around is full
of runaway slaves. A few years ago forty of them began to make a
plantation on the mountain close by; the white settlers surrounded them
and called on them to surrender, but rather than return to captivity all
the slaves threw themselves into the sea.

I stayed with the farmer and his wife until three o'clock the next
morning. The farmer walked with me as far as Coral Point. He was a
remarkably robust man, and his face and arms and legs were burnt by the
sun. Unlike the ordinary settler, he worked himself in tilling the land
and felling and carting trees. The only thing that worried him, he said
to me, was the unnecessary trouble that his wife took in bringing up her
family. Not content with looking after her own five children, she had
recently burdened herself with the care of a little orphan girl. The
honest farmer merely told me of his little worries, for he saw clearly
that I was aware of all his happiness. When we took farewell of each
other, we did so with a cordial embrace.

The country beyond his farm was charming in its verdure and freshness;
it is a rich prairie stretching between the splendid sea and the
magnificent forest. The murmur of the fountains, the beautiful colour of
the waves, the soft movement of the scented air filled me with joy and
peace. I was sorry that I was alone; I formed all kinds of plans. From
all the outside world I only wanted a few loved objects to enable me to
pass my life in this paradise. And great was my regret when I turned
away from this beautiful yet deserted place. I had scarcely gone 200
feet when a band of blacks, armed with guns, came towards me. Advancing
to them, I saw that they were a detachment of the black police. One of
them carried two little dogs; another pulled a negress along by means of
a cord around her neck--she was part of the loot they had got in
attacking and dispersing a camp of runaway slaves. The negress was
broken with grief. I questioned her; she did not reply. On her back she
carried a large gaping bag. I look in it. Alas! it contained a man's
head. The natural beauty of the country disappeared. I saw it as it
really was--a land of abominations.

The Isle of France is regarded as a fortress which protects our Indian
possessions. It is as though Bordeaux were regarded as the citadel of
our American colonies. There are 1,500 leagues between the Isle of
France and Pondichery. Had we but spent on a fortress on the Malabar
coast or the mouth of the Ganges half of the money which has been wasted
on the Isle of France the English would not now be masters of Bengal.
What, then, is the use of the Isle of France? To grow coffee and serve
as a port of call.


_III.--Bourbon, the Pirates' Island_

PORT LOUIS, _December 21, 1770_. Having obtained permission to return to
France, I embarked on November 9, 1770, on the Indien. It took us twelve
days to cover the forty leagues between the Isle of France and Bourbon.
This was due to the calm weather; but on landing at Bourbon, we
encountered a hurricane.

Out of the calm sea there suddenly came a monstrous wave which broke so
violently on the shore that everybody fled. The foam rose fifty feet
into the air. Behind it came three waves the same height and force, like
three long rolling hills. The air was heavy, the sky dark with
motionless clouds, and the vast flocks of whimbrels and drivers came in
from the open sea and scattered along the coast. The land birds and
animals seemed perturbed. Even men felt a secret terror at the sight of
a frightful tempest in the midst of calm weather.

On the second day the wind completely dropped, and the sea grew wilder.
The billows were more numerous, and swept in from the ocean with great
force. All the small boats were drawn far up on the land, and the people
strengthened their house with joists and ropes. Seven ships besides the
Indien were riding at anchor, and the islanders gathered in a crowd
along the shore to see if they would weather the storm. At noon the sky
began to lower, and a strong wind arose suddenly from the south-east.
Everyone was afraid that the vessels would be flung ashore, and a signal
was made from the battery for them to depart. As the cannon went off,
the vessels cut their cables and got under sail, and at the end of two
hours they disappeared in the north-east in the midst of a black sky.

At three o'clock the hurricane came. The sound was frightful. All the
winds of heaven were loose. The stricken sea came over the land in
clouds of spindrift, sand, and pebbles, and buried everything within
fifty feet of the shore in shingle. The church was unroofed, and part of
the Government House destroyed. The hurricane lasted till three o'clock
in the morning. The Indien did not return, but sailed away with all my
effects on it. There was nothing for me to do but to wait at Bourbon for
another, homeward-bound ship; so I resolved to profit by my misfortune,
and make an excursion into the island.

This enabled me to gather something of the history of Bourbon. It was
first inhabited by a band of pirates, who brought with them some
negresses from Madagascar. This happened in 1657. Some time afterwards
our Indian company set up a factory in the island, and the governor
managed to keep on good terms with his dangerous neighbours. One day the
Portuguese viceroy of Goa anchored off the island and came to dine with
the governor. He had scarcely landed when a pirate ship of fifty guns
entered the harbour and captured the Portuguese vessel. The captain of
the pirates then landed, and was also invited to dinner by the governor.
The buccaneer sat down at table by the side of the viceroy, and told the
Portuguese that he was now a prisoner. When the wine and the good cheer
had put the man in a good humour, M. Desforges (that was the name of our
governor) asked him at how much he fixed the ransom of the viceroy.

"I want a thousand piastres," said the pirate.

"That's too little," replied M. Desforges, "for a brave man like you and
a great lord like him. Ask more than that, or ask nothing."

"Very well," said the generous corsair, "he can go free."

The viceroy at once re-embarked and got under sail, Vastly content at
having escaped so cheaply.

The pirate afterwards settled in the island with all his followers, and
was hanged after an amnesty had been published in favour of himself and
his men. He had forgotten to have his name included in it, and a
counsellor who wished to appropriate his spoils profited by the mistake,
and had him put to death. The second rogue, however, quickly came to
almost as unhappy an end. One of the pirates, who lived to the age of
one hundred and four years, died only a little time ago. His companions
soon grew more peaceful in their manners on adopting more peaceful
occupations, and, though their descendants are still distinguished by a
certain spirit of independence and liberty, this is now being softened
by the society of a multitude of worthy farmers who have settled at
Bourbon.

There are five thousand Europeans on the island and sixty thousand
blacks. The land is three times more peopled than that of the Isle of
France, and it is very much better cultivated.

The manners of the old settlers of Bourbon were very simple. Most of the
houses were never shut, and a lock was an object of curiosity. The
people kept their savings in a shell above their door. They went
barefooted, and fed on rice and coffee; they imported scarcely anything
from Europe, being content to live without luxury provided they lived
without trouble. When a stranger landed on the island, they came without
knowing him and offered him their houses to live in.


_IV.--Visit to the Cape Colony_

PORT LOUIS, _January 20, 1771_. I have landed among the Dutch at the
extremity of Africa without money, without linen, and without friends.
Learning of my position, M. De Tolback, the governor of Cape Colony, has
invited me to dinner; and, happily, the secretary of the council has
provided me with money, having allowed me to use his credit in buying
whatever I need. The streets of the Cape are well set out; some are
watered by canals, and most of them are planted with oak trees. The
fronts of the houses are shadowed by their foliage; every door has seats
on both sides in brick or turf, on which sit fresh and rosy-faced women.
There is no gambling at the Cape, no play-acting or novel reading. The
people are content with the domestic happiness that virtue brings in its
train. Every day brings the same duties and pleasures. There are no
spectacles at the Cape and no one wants any; every man there has in his
own home all that he desires. Happy servants, well-bred children, good
wives: these are pleasures that fiction does not give.

A quiet life of this sort furnishes little matter for conversation, so
the Dutchmen of the Cape do not talk very much. They are a rather
melancholic people, and they prefer to feel rather than to argue. So
little happens, perhaps, that they have nothing to talk about; but what
does it matter if the mind is empty when the heart is full, and when the
tender emotions of nature can move it without being excited by artifice
or constrained by a false decorum? When the girls of the Cape fall in
love, they artlessly avow their feelings, but they insist on choosing
their own husbands. The lads show the same frankness. The good faith
which the young persons of each sex keep towards each other generally
results in a happy marriage. Love with them is combined with esteem, and
this nourishes all during life in their constant souls that desire to
please which married persons in some other countries only show outside
their own home.

It was with much regret that I left these worthy people, but I am not
sorry to return to France. I prefer my own country to all others, not
because it is more beautiful, but because I was born and bred there.
Happy is the man who sees again the field in which he learnt to walk and
the orchard which he used to play in! Happier still is he who has never
quitted the paternal roof! How many voyagers return and yet find no
place of retreat. Of their friends, some are dead, others are gone
away; but life is only a brief voyage, and the age of man a rapid day.
I wish to forget the storms of it, and remember only in these letters
the goodness, the virtue, and the constancy that I have met with.
Perhaps this humble work may make your names, O virtuous settlers at the
Cape, survive when I am in the grave! For thee, O ill-fated negro! that
weepest on the rocks of the Isle of France, if my hand, which cannot
wipe away thy tears, can but bring the tyrants to weep in sorrow and
repentance, I shall want nothing more from the Indies; I shall have
gained there the only fortune I require.




JOHN HANNING SPEKE

Discovery of the Source of the Nile


_I.--Beginnings in the Black Man's Land_

  John Hanning Speke was born on May 14, 1827, near
  Ilchester, Suffolk, England. He entered the army in 1844,
  serving in India, but his love of exploration and sport
  led him to visit the Himalayas and Thibet; leaving India
  in 1854, he joined Sir Richard Burton on his Somali
  expedition, where he was wounded and invalided home. After
  the Crimean War he rejoined Burton in African exploration,
  pushing forward alone to discover the Victoria N'yanza,
  which he believed to be the source of the Nile. Speke's
  work was so much appreciated by the Royal Geographical
  Society that they sent him out again to verify this, his
  friend, Captain Grant, accompanying him, and the exciting
  incidents of this journey are set forth in his "Journal of
  the Discovery of the Source of the Nile," which he
  published on his return in 1863. Honours were bestowed on
  him for having "solved the problem of the ages," though
  Burton sharply contested his conclusions. An accident
  while partridge shooting on September 18, 1864, suddenly
  ended the career of one who had proved himself to be a
  brave explorer, a good sportsman, and an able botanist and
  geologist. His "Journal" is an entrancing record of one of
  the greatest expeditions of modern times, and is told with
  no small amount of literary skill. The work was followed a
  year later by "What Led to the Discovery of the Source of
  the Nile," these two forming, with the exception of a
  number of magazine articles, Speke's entire literary
  output.

I started on my third expedition in Africa to prove that the Victoria
N'yanza was the source of the Nile, on May 9, 1859, under the direction
of the Royal Geographical Society, and Captain Grant, an old friend and
brother sportsman in India, asked to accompany me. After touching at the
Cape and East London we made our first acquaintance with the Zulu
Kaffirs at Delagoa Bay, and on August 15 we reached our destination,
Zanzibar. Here I engaged my men, paying a year's wages in advance, and
anyone who saw the grateful avidity with which they took the money and
pledged themselves to serve me faithfully would think I had a first rate
set of followers.

At last we made a start, and reaching Uzaramo, my first occupation was
to map the country by timing the rate of march with a watch, taking
compass bearings, and ascertaining by boiling a thermometer the altitude
above the sea level, and the latitude by the meridian of a star, taken
with a sextant, comparing the lunar distances with the nautical almanac.
After long marching I made a halt to send back some specimens, my
camera, and a few of the sickliest of my men, and then entered Usagara,
which includes all the country between Kingani and Mgéta rivers east and
Ugogo the first plateau west--a distance of one hundred miles. Here
water is obtainable throughout the year, and where slave hunts do not
disturb the industry of the people, cultivation thrives, but these
troubles constantly occur, and the meagre looking wretches, spiritless
and shy, retreat to the hill tops at the sight of a stranger.

At this point Baraka, the head of my Wanguana (emancipated slaves)
became discontented; ambition was fast making a fiend of him, and I
promoted Frij in his place. Shortly afterwards my Hottentots suffered
much from sickness, and Captain Grant was seized with fever. In addition
to these difficulties we found that avarice, that fatal enemy to the
negro chiefs, made them overreach themselves by exhorbitant demands for
taxes, for experience will not teach the negro who thinks only for the
moment. The curse of Noah sticks to these his grandchildren by Ham, they
require a government like ours in India, and without it the slave trade
will wipe them off the face of the earth. We travelled slowly with our
sick Hottentot lashed to a donkey; the man died when we halted, and we
buried him with Christian honours. As his comrades said, he died because
he had determined to die--an instance of that obstinate fatalism in
their mulish temperament which no kind words or threats can cure.

After crossing the hilly Usagara range, leaving the great famine lands
behind, we camped, on November 24, in the Ugogo country, which has a
wild aspect well in keeping with the natives who occupy it, and who
carry arms intended for use rather than show. They live in flat-topped
square villages, are fond of ornaments, impulsive by nature, and
avaricious. They pester travellers, jeering, quizzing, and pointing at
them on the road and in camp intrusively forcing their way into the
tents.

In January, after many very trying experiences, we arrived at
Unyamuézi--the Country of the Moon--with which the Hindus, before the
Christian era, had commercial dealings in ivory and slaves. The natives
are wanting in pluck and gallantry, the whole tribe are desperate
smokers and greatly given to drink. Here some Arabs came to pay their
respects, they told me what I had said about the N'yanza being the
source of the Nile would turn out all right, as all the people in the
north knew that when the N'yanza rose, the stream rushed with such
violence it tore up islands and floated them away. By the end of March
we had crossed the forests, forded the Quandé nullah and entered the
rich flat district of Mininga, where the gingerbread palm grows
abundantly.

During my stay with Musa, the king at Kazé, who had shown himself
friendly on a previous expedition, I underwent some trying experiences
in trying to mediate between two rival rulers, Snay and Manua Séra,
between whom there was continual wrangle and conflict. On one occasion
Musa, who was suffering from a sharp illness, to prove to me that he was
bent on leaving Kazé the same time as myself, began eating what he
called his training pills--small dried buds of roses with alternate bits
of sugar candy. Ten of these buds, he said, eaten dry, were sufficient,
especially after having been boiled in rice water or milk.

Struggling on, faced by the thievish sultans and followed by my train of
quarrelling servants, I at last reached Uzinza, which is ruled by a
Wahuma chief of Abyssinian stock, and here I found the petty chiefs
quite as extortionate in extorting hongo (tax) as others. To add to my
troubles a new leader I had previously engaged, called "the Pig," gave
me great annoyance, causing a mutiny amongst my men. Some were saying,
"They were the flesh and I was the knife; I cut and did with them just
what I liked, and they couldn't stand it any longer." However, they had
to stand it, and I brought them to reason.


_II.--Travel Difficulties and a King's Hospitality_

A bad cough began to trouble me so much that whilst mounting a hill I
blew and grunted like a broken-winded horse, and during an enforced halt
at Lumérési's village I was in constant pain, so much that lying down
became impossible. This chief tried to plunder and detain me, and
Baraka, my principal man, began to grow discontented, because in my
intention to push on to Karagué I was acting against impossibilities.
"Impossibilities!" I said. "What is impossible? Could I not go on as a
servant with the first caravan, or buy up a whole caravan if I liked?
What is impossible? For God's sake don't try any more to frighten my
men, for you have nearly killed me already in doing so." My troubles did
not end here. A letter came in from Grant, whom I had left behind
through sickness, that his caravan had been attacked and wrecked and he
was, as Baraka had heard, in sore straits. However, to my inexpressible
joy, a short time afterwards Grant appeared and we had a good laugh over
our misfortunes.

On our arrival at Usui I was told that Suwarora, its great king, desired
to give me an audience, and after days of more impudent thieving on the
part of his officers, my man Bombay came with exciting news. I
questioned him.

"Will the big king see us?"

"Oh no. By the very best good fortune in the world, on going into the
palace, I saw Suwarora, and spoke to him at once, but he was so
tremendously drunk he could not understand."

"Well, what was Suwarora like?"

"Oh, he is a very fine man, just as tall and in the face very like
Grant, in fact, if Grant were black you would not know the difference."

"Were his officers drunk too? And did you get drunk?"

"Yes," said Bombay, grinning and showing his whole row of sharp, pointed
teeth.

November 16 found us rattling on again, as merry as larks, over the red
sandstone formation, leaving the intemperate Suwarora behind. We entered
a fine forest at a stiff pace until we arrived at the head of a deep
valley called Lohugati which was so beautiful we instinctively pulled up
to admire it. Deep down its well-wooded side was a stream of most
inviting aspect for a trout-fisher, flowing towards the N'yanza. Just
beyond it, the valley was clothed with fine trees and luxuriant
vegetation of all description, amongst which was conspicuous the pretty
pandana palm and rich gardens of plantains, whilst thistles of
extraordinary size and wild indigo were the common weeds.

Nothing could be more agreeable than our stay at Karagué, our next
stopping place, where we found Rumanika, its intelligent king, sitting
in a wrapper made of antelope's skin, smiling blandly as we approached
him. He talked of the geography of the lake, and by his invitation we
crossed the Spur to the Ingézi Kagéra side, showing by actual navigation
the connection of these highland lakes with the rivers which drain the
various spurs of the Mountains of the Moon. Rumanika also told me that
in Ründa there existed pigmies who lived in trees, but occasionally came
down at night, and listening at the hut doors of the men, would wait
till they heard the name of one of its inmates, when they would call him
out, and firing an arrow into his heart, disappear again in the same way
as they came. After a long and amusing conversation, I was introduced to
his sister-in-law, a wonder of obesity, unable to stand, except on all
fours. Meanwhile, the daughter, a lass of sixteen, sat before us sucking
at a milk-pot, on which her father kept her at work by holding a rod in
his hand, as fattening is the first duty of fashionable female life.

During my stay I had traced Rumanika's descent from King David, whose
hair was as straight as my own, and he found in these theological
disclosures the greatest delight. He wished to know what difference
existed between the Arabs and ourselves, to which Baraka replied, as the
best means of making him understand, that whilst the Arabs had only one
book, we had two, to which I added, "Yes, that is true in a sense, but
the real merits lie in the fact that we have got the better book, as may
be inferred by the obvious fact that we are more prosperous and superior
in all things."

One day, we heard the familiar sound of the Uganda drum. Maula, a royal
officer, with an escort of smartly-dressed men and women and boys, had
brought a welcome from the king. One thing only now embarrassed
me--Grant was worse, without hope of recovery for some months. This
large body of Waganda could not be kept waiting. To get on as fast as
possible was the only chance of ever bringing the journey to a
successful issue. So, unable to help myself, with great remorse at
another separation, on the following day I consigned my companion, with
several Wanguana, to the care of my friend Rumanika. When all was
completed, I set out on the march, perfectly sure in my mind that before
very long I should settle the great Nile problem for ever, and with
this consciousness, only hoping that Grant would be able to join me
before I should have to return again, for it was never supposed for a
moment that it was possible I ever could get north from Uganda.


_III.--A Distinguished Guest at the Court of Uganda_

As it was my lot to spend a considerable time in Uganda, I formed a
theory of its ethnology, founded on the traditions of the several
nations and my own observation. In my judgment, they are of the
semi-Shem-Hamitic race of Ethiopia, at some early date having, from
Abyssinia, invaded the rich pasture lands of Unyoro, and founded the
great kingdom of Kittara. Here they lost their religion, forgot their
language, and changed their national name to Wahuma, their traditional
idea being still of a foreign extraction. We note one very
distinguishing mark, the physical appearance of this remarkable race
partaking more of the phlegmatic nature of the Shemitic father, than the
nervous boisterous temperament of the Hamitic mother, as a certain clue
to their Shem-Hamitic origin.

Before, however, I had advanced much farther over the frontiers
of this new country, I had a rather spirited scene with my new
commander-in-chief (Baraka being left with Grant) on a point of
discipline. I ordered him one morning to strike the tent; he made some
excuses. "Never mind, obey my orders, and strike the tent."

Bombay refused, and I began to pull it down myself, at which he flew
into a passion, and said he would pitch into the men who helped me, as
there was gunpowder which might blow us all up. I promptly remonstrated:

"That's no reason why you should abuse my men, who are better than you
by obeying my orders. If I choose to blow up my property, that is my
look-out; and if you don't do your duty, I will blow you up also."

As Bombay foamed with rage at this, I gave him a dig on the head with my
fist, and when he squared up to me, I gave him another, till at last as
the claret was flowing, he sulked off. Crowds of Waganda witnessed this
comedy, and were all digging at one another's heads, showing off in
pantomime the strange ways of the white man.

It was the first and last time I had ever occasion to lose my dignity by
striking a blow with my own hands, but I could not help it on this
occasion without losing command and respect.

On February 19, Mtésa, the King of Uganda, sent his pages to announce a
levée at the palace in my honour. I prepared for my presentation at
court in my best, but cut a sorry figure in comparison with the dressy
Waganda. The preliminary ceremonies were so dilatory, that I allowed
five minutes to the court to give me a proper reception, saying if it
were not conceded, I would then walk away. My men feared for me, as they
did not know what a "savage" king would do in case I carried out my
threat; whilst the Waganda, lost in amazement at what seemed little less
than blasphemy, saw me walk away homeward, leaving Bombay to leave the
present on the ground and follow.

Mtésa thought of leaving his toilet room to catch me up, but sent
Wakungu running after me. Poor creatures! They caught me up, fell upon
their knees and implored I would return at once, for the king had not
tasted food, and would not till he saw me. I felt grieved, but simply
replied by patting my heart and shaking my head, walking, if anything,
all the faster. My point gained I cooled myself with coffee and a pipe,
and returned, advancing into the hut where sat the king, a good-looking,
well-figured young man of twenty-five, with hair cut short, and wearing
neat ornaments on his neck, arms, fingers and toes. A white dog, spear,
shield, and woman--the Uganda cognizance--were by his side. Not knowing
the language, we sat staring at each other for an hour, but in the
second interview Maula translated. On that occasion I took a ring from
my finger and presented it to the king with the words:

"This is a small token of friendship; please inspect it, it is made
after the fashion of a dog collar, and being the king of metals, gold,
is in every respect appropriate to your illustrious race."

To which compliment he replied: "If friendship is your desire, what
would you say if I showed you a road by which you might reach your home
in a month?"

I knew he referred to the direct line to Zanzibar across the Masai. He
afterwards sent a page with this message:

"The king hopes you will not be offended if required to sit on it--a
bundle of grass--before him, for no person in Uganda, however high in
office, is ever allowed to sit upon anything raised above the ground but
the king."

To this I agreed, and afterwards had many interviews with his queen,
fair, fat and forty-five, to whom I administered medicine and found her
the key to any influence with the king. She often sat chattering,
laughing and smoking her pipe in concert with me.

I found that Mtésa was always on the look-out for presents, and set his
heart upon having my compass. I told him he might as well put my eyes
out and ask me to walk home as take away that little instrument, which
could be of no use to him as he could not read or understand it. But
this only excited his cupidity. He watched it twirling round and
pointing to the north and looked and begged again until tired of his
importunities, I told him I must wait until the Usoga Road was open
before I could part with it, and then the compass would be nothing to
what I would give him. Hearing this, he reared his head proudly, and
patting his heart, said:

"That is all on my shoulders, as sure as I live it shall be done. For
that country has no king and I have long been desirous of taking it."

I declined, however, to give him the instrument on the security of this
promise, and he went to breakfast.

I had a brilliant instance of the capricious restlessness and
self-willedness of this despotic monarch Mtésa. He sent word that he had
started for N'yanza and wished me to follow. But N'yanza merely means a
piece of water, and no one knew where he meant or what project was on
foot. I walked rapidly through gardens, over hills and across rushy
swamps down the west flank of the Murchison creek, and found the king
with his Wakungu in front and women behind like a confused pack of
hounds. He had first, it seems, mingled a little business with pleasure,
for, finding a woman tied for some offence, he took the executioner's
duty, and by firing killed her outright.

It will be kept in view that the hanging about at this court and all the
perplexing and irritating negotiations had always one end in view--that
of reaching the Nile, where it pours out of the N'yanza as I was long
certain that it did.

Without the consent, and even the aid, of this capricious barbarian I
was now talking to, such a project was hopeless. I thought that whilst I
could be employed in inspecting the river and in feeling the route by
water to Gani, Grant could return to Karagué by water, bring up our rear
traps, and in navigating the lake obtain the information he had been
frustrated in getting before.

We resolved to try a new political influence at court. Grant had taken
to the court of Karagué a jumping-jack to amuse the young princess, but
it gave offence here as a breach of etiquette.

Finally we bade Mtésa good-bye. I flattered him with admiration of his
shooting, his country, and the possibilities of trade in the future, to
which he replied in good taste. We then rose with an English bow,
placing the hand on the heart while saying adieu, and there was a
complete uniformity in the ceremonial, for whatever I did, Mtésa in an
instant mimicked with the instinct of a monkey.


_IV.--The Source Confirmed At Last_

The final stage of our toilsome travelling was now reached, and we
started northward, but as it appeared all-important to communicate
quickly with Petherick, who had promised to await us with boats at
Gondokoro, and Grant's leg being so weak, I arranged for him to go
direct with my property, letters, etc., for dispatch to Petherick. I
should meanwhile go up the river to its source or exit from the lake and
come down again navigating as far as practicable. Crossing the Luajerri,
a huge rush drain three miles broad, which is said to rise in the lake
and fall into the Nile, I reached Urondogani.

Here, at last I stood on the brink of the Nile; most beautiful was the
scene, nothing could surpass it! It was the very perfection of the kind
of effect aimed at in a highly-kept park, with a magnificent stream from
600 to 700 yards wide, dotted with islets and rocks, the former occupied
by fishermen's huts, the latter by sterns and crocodiles basking in the
sun--flowing between fine high, grassy banks, with rich trees and
plaintains in the background, where herds of the nsunnu and hartebeest
could be seen grazing, while the hippopotami were snorting in the water
and florikan and guinea-fowl rising at our feet.

The expedition had now performed its functions. I saw that old Father
Nile, without any doubt, rises in the Victoria N'yanza! I told my men
they ought to shave their heads and bathe in the holy river, the cradle
of Moses, the waters of which, sweetened with sugar, men carried all the
way from Egypt to Mecca and sell to the pilgrims. But Bombay, who is a
philosopher of the Epicurean school, said:

"We don't look on those things in the same fanciful manner that you do,
we are contented with all the common-places of life and look for
nothing beyond the present. If things don't go well, it is God's will;
and if they do go well, that is His will also."

I mourned, however, when I thought how much I had lost by the delays in
the journey having deprived me of the pleasure of going to look at the
north-east corner of the N'yanza to see what connection there was with
it and the other lake where the Waganda went to get their salt, and from
which another river flowed to the north making "Usoga an island." But I
felt I ought to be content with what I had been spared to accomplish.

The most remote waters or _tophead of the Nile_ is the southern end of
the lake, situated close on the third degree of south latitude, which
gives to the Nile the surprising length in direct measurement, rolling
over thirty-four degrees of latitude, of above 2,300 miles or more than
one-eleventh the circumference of our globe. I now christened what the
natives term "the stones" as Ripon Falls after the nobleman who presided
over the Royal Geographical Society when my expedition was got up, and
the arm of water from which the Nile issued Napoleon Channel, in token
of respect to the French Geographical Society who gave me their gold
medal for discovering the Victoria N'yanza.

After a long journey to Gani we reached the habitation of men, knots of
native fellows perched like monkeys on the granite blocks awaited us,
and finally at Gondokoro we got first news of home and came down by boat
to Khartum. Of course, in disbanding my followers, my faithful children,
I duly rewarded them, franked them home to Zanzibar, and they all
promptly volunteered to go with me again.




LAURENCE STERNE

A Sentimental Journey Through France
and Italy


_I.--Setting Out_

  No literary career has ever been more singular than that
  of Laurence Sterne. Born in Clonmel Barracks, Ireland, on
  November 24, 1713, he was forty-six years of age before he
  discovered his genius. By calling he was a country parson
  in Yorkshire, yet more unconventional books than "Tristram
  Shandy" (see FICTION) and "A Sentimental Journey" never
  appeared. The fame of the former brought Sterne to London,
  where he became, says Walpole, "topsy-turvey with
  success." In the intervals of supplying an ever increasing
  demand with more "Tristrams" he composed and published
  volumes of sermons. Their popularity proved that he was as
  eloquent in his pulpit gown as he was diverting without
  it. The turmoil of eighteenth century social and literary
  life soon shattered his already failing health, and he
  died on March 18, 1768, the first two volumes of "A
  Sentimental Journey" appearing on February 27th. The
  "Journey" proved equally as fascinating and as popular as
  "Shandy." Walpole, who described the latter as tiresome,
  declared the new book to be "very pleasing though too much
  dilated, and marked by great good nature and strokes of
  delicacy." Like its predecessor, the "Journey" is
  intentionally formless--narrative and digression, pathos
  and wit, sentiment and coarse indelicacy, all commingled
  freely together.

"They order," said I, "this matter better in France." "You have been in
France?" said my gentleman, turning quick upon me with the most civil
triumph in the world. Strange! quoth I, debating the matter with myself,
that one and twenty miles' sailing, for 'tis absolutely no further from
Dover to Calais, should give a man these rights: I'll look into them; so
giving up the argument, I went straight to my lodgings, put up
half-a-dozen shirts and a black pair of silk breeches,--"the coat I have
on," said I, looking at the sleeve, "will do,"--took place in the Dover
stage; and, the packet sailing at nine the next morning, by three I had
got sat down to my dinner upon a fricasseed chicken--incontestably in
France.

When I had finished my dinner, and drank the King of France's health--to
satisfy my mind that I bore him no spleen, but, on the contrary, high
honour to the humanity of his temper--I rose up an inch taller for the
accommodation. "Just God!" said I, kicking my portmanteau aside, "what
is there in this world's goods which should sharpen our spirits, and
make so many kind-hearted brethren of us fall out so cruelly as we do,
by the way?"


_II.--The Monk--Calais_

I had scarce uttered the words when a poor monk of the order of St.
Francis came into the room to beg something for his convent. No man
cares to have his virtues the sport of contingencies. The moment I cast
my eyes upon him, I was determined not to give him a single sou; and
accordingly I put my purse into my pocket--button'd it up--set myself a
little more upon my centre, and advanced up gravely to him; there was
something, I fear, forbidding in my look: I have his figure this moment
before my eyes, and think there was that in it which deserved better.

The monk, as I judged from the break in his tonsure, a few scatter'd
white hairs upon his temples being all that remained of it, might be
about seventy--he was certainly sixty-five.

It was one of those heads which Guido has often painted--mild, pale,
penetrating, free from all commonplace ideas of fat contented ignorance
looking downwards upon the earth--it look'd forwards; but look'd as if
it look'd at something beyond this world.

When he had entered the room three paces, he stood still; and laying his
left hand upon his breast, when I had got close up to him, he introduced
himself with the little story of the wants of his convent, and the
poverty of his order--and he did it with so simple a grace--I was
bewitch'd not to have been struck with it.

A better reason was, I had predetermined not to give him a single sou.

"'Tis very true," said I, "'tis very true--and Heaven be their resource
who have no other but the charity of the world, the stock of which, I
fear, is no way sufficient for the many _great claims_ which are hourly
made upon it."

As I pronounced the words _great claims_, he gave a single glance with
his eye downwards upon the sleeve of his tunic--I felt the full force of
the appeal. "I acknowledge it," said I, "a coarse habit, and that but
once in three years, with meagre diet--are no great matters; and the
true point of pity is, as they can be earn'd in the world with so little
industry, that your order should wish to procure them by pressing upon a
fund which is the property of the lame, the blind, the aged, and the
infirm; and had you been of the _order of mercy_, instead of the order
of St. Francis, poor as I am," continued I, pointing at my portmanteau,
"full cheerfully should it have been open'd to you, for the ransom of
the unfortunate"--the monk made me a bow--"but of all others," resumed
I, "the unfortunate of our own country, surely, have the first rights;
and I have left thousands in distress upon our own shore." The monk gave
a cordial wave with his head, as much as to say, "No doubt, there is
misery enough in every corner of the world, as well as within our
convent." "But we distinguish," said I, laying my hand upon the sleeve
of his tunic, "we distinguish, my good father! betwixt those who wish
only to eat the bread of their own labour--and those who eat the bread
of other people's, and have no other plan in life, but to get through it
in sloth and ignorance, _for the love of God_."

The poor Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment pass'd across
his cheeks, but could not tarry. Nature seemed to have done with her
resentments in him; he showed none, but press'd both his hands with
resignation upon his breast and retired.

My heart smote me the moment he shut the door. "Psha!" said I, with an
air of carelessness, but it would not do: every ungracious syllable I
had utter'd crowded back into my imagination. I reflected, I had no
right over the poor Franciscan, but to deny him; I consider'd his grey
hairs--his courteous figure seem'd to re-enter and gently ask me what
injury he had done me? And why I could use him thus? I would have given
twenty livres for an advocate--I have behaved very ill, said I, within
myself; but I have only just set out upon my travels, and shall learn
better manners as I get along.


_III.--The Remise Door--Calais_

Now, there being no travelling through France and Italy without a
chaise--and Nature generally prompting us to the thing we are fittest
for, I walk'd out into the coach yard to buy or hire something of that
kind to my purpose. Mons. Dessein, the master of the hotel, having just
returned from vespers, we walk'd together towards his remise, to take a
view of his magazine of chaises. Suddenly I had turned upon a lady who
had just arrived at the inn and had followed us unperceived, and whom I
had already seen in conference with the Franciscan.

Monsieur Dessein had _diabled_ the key above fifty times before he found
out that he had come with a wrong one in his hand: we were as impatient
as himself to have it open'd, when he left us together, with our faces
towards the door, and said he would be back in five minutes. "This,
certainly, fair lady!" said I, "must be one of Fortune's whimsical
doings; to take two utter strangers by their hands, and in one moment
place them together in such a cordial situation as Friendship herself
could scarce have achieved for them." Then I set myself to consider how
I should undo the ill impressions which the poor monk's story, in case
he had told it to her, must have planted in her breast against me.


_IV.--The Snuff-box--Calais_

The good old monk was within six paces from us, as the idea of him
cross'd my mind; and was advancing towards us a little out of the line,
as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no. He stopp'd,
however, as soon as he came up to us, with a world of frankness: and
having a horn snuff-box in his hand, he presented it open to me. "You
shall taste mine," said I, pulling out my box (which was a small
tortoise one), and putting it into his hand. "'Tis most excellent," said
the monk. "Then do me the favour," I replied, "to accept of the box and
all, and, when you take a pinch out of it, sometimes recollect it was
the peace-offering of a man who once used you unkindly, but not from his
heart."

The poor monk blush'd as red as scarlet. "_Mon Dieu_," said he, pressing
his hands together, "You never used me unkindly." "I should think," said
the lady, "he is not likely." I blush'd in my turn. "Excuse me, Madam,"
replied I, "I treated him most unkindly; and from no provocations."
"'Tis impossible," said the lady. "My God!" cried the monk, with a
warmth of asseveration which seem'd not to belong to him, "The fault was
in me, and in the indiscretion of my zeal." The lady opposed it, and I
joined with her in maintaining it was impossible, that a spirit so
regulated as his could give offence to any.

Whilst this contention lasted the monk rubb'd his horn box upon the
sleeve of his tunic; and as soon as it had acquired a little air of
brightness by the friction, he made a low bow, and said 'twas too late
to say whether it was the weakness or goodness of our tempers which had
involved us in this contest. But be it as it would, he begg'd we might
exchange boxes. In saying this, he presented his to me with one hand, as
he took mine from me in the other; and having kissed it, he put it into
his bosom and took his leave.

I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion, to
help mind on to something better; truth, I seldom go abroad without it:
and oft and many a time have I called up by it the courteous spirit of
its owner to regulate my own, in the justlings of the world; they had
full employment for his, as I learnt from his story, till about the
forty-fifth year of his age, when upon some military services ill
requited, and meeting at the same time with a disappointment in the
tenderness of passions, he abandoned the sword and the sex together, and
took sanctuary, not so much in his convent as in himself.

I felt a damp upon my spirits, that in my last return through Calais,
upon inquiring after Father Lorengo, I heard he had been dead near three
months, and was buried not in his convent, but, according to his desire,
in a little cemetery belonging to it, about two leagues off; I had a
strong desire to see where they had laid him--when upon pulling out his
little horn box, as I sat by his grave, and plucking up a nettle or two
at the head of it, which had no business to grow there, they all struck
together so forcibly upon my affections, that I burst into a flood of
tears--but I am as weak as a woman; and I beg the world not to smile but
to pity me.


_V.--Montreuil_

I had once lost my portmanteau from behind my chaise, and twice got out
in the rain, and one of the times up to the knees in dirt, to help the
postillion to tie it on, without being able to find out what was
wanting. Nor was it till I got to Montreuil, upon the landlord's asking
me if I wanted not a servant, that it occurred to me, that that was the
very thing.

"A servant! That I do most sadly!" quoth I. "Because, Monsieur," said
the landlord, "there is a clever young fellow, who would be very proud
of the honour to serve an Englishman." "But, why an English one more
than any other?" "They are so generous," said the landlord. I'll be shot
if this is not a livre out of my pocket, quoth I to myself, this very
night. "But they have wherewithal to be so, Monsieur," added he. Set
down one livre more for that, quoth I.

The landlord then called in La Fleur, which was the name of the young
man he had spoke of--saying only first, that as for his talents, he
would presume to say nothing--Monsieur was the best judge what would
suit him; but for the fidelity of La Fleur, he would stand responsible
in all he was worth.

The landlord deliver'd this in a manner which instantly set my mind to
the business I was upon--and La Fleur, who stood waiting without, in
that breathless expectation which every son of nature of us has felt in
our turns, came in.


_VI.--Montreuil--La Fleur_

I am apt to be taken with all kinds of people at first sight; but never
more so, than when a poor devil comes to offer his services to so poor a
devil as myself.

When La Fleur entered the room, the genuine look and air of the fellow
determined the matter at once in his favour; so I hired him first--and
then began to enquire what he could do. But I shall find out his
talents, quoth I, as I want them. Besides, a Frenchman can do
everything.

Now poor La Fleur could do nothing in the world but beat a drum, and
play a march or two upon the pipe. I was determined to make his talents
do: and can't say my weakness was ever so insulted by my wisdom, as in
the attempt.

La Fleur had set out early in life, as gallantly as most Frenchmen do,
with _serving_ for a few years: at the end of which, having satisfied
the sentiment, and found moreover, that the honour of beating a drum was
likely to be its own reward, as it open'd no further track of glory to
him--he retired _à ses terres_, and lived _comme il plaisait à
Dieu_--that is to say, upon nothing.

"But you can do something else, La Fleur?" said I. O yes, he could make
spatterdashes (leather riding gaiters), and play a little upon the
fiddle. "Why, I play bass myself," said I; "we shall do very well. You
can shave and dress a wig a little, La Fleur?" He had all the
disposition in the world. "It is enough for Heaven!" said I,
interrupting him, "and ought to be enough for me!" So supper coming in,
and having a frisky English spaniel on one side of my chair, and a
French valet with as much hilarity in his countenance as ever Nature
painted in one, on the other, I was satisfied to my heart's content with
my empire; and if monarchs knew what they would be at, they might be
satisfied as I was.

As La Fleur went the whole tour of France and Italy with me, I must
interest the reader in his behalf, by saying that I had never less
reason to repent of the impulses which generally do determine me, than
in regard to this fellow. He was a faithful, affectionate, simple soul
as ever trudged after the heels of a philosopher; and notwithstanding
his talents of drum-beating and spatterdash making, which, though very
good in themselves, happened to be of no great service to me, yet was I
hourly recompensed by the festivity of his temper--it supplied all
defects. I had a constant resource in his looks, in all difficulties and
distresses of my own--I was going to have added, of his too; but La
Fleur was out of the reach of everything; for whether it was hunger or
thirst, or cold or nakedness, or watchings, or whatever stripes of ill
luck La Fleur met with in our journeyings, there was no index in his
physiognomy to point them out by--he was eternally the same; so that if
I am a piece of a philosopher, which Satan now and then puts it into my
head I am--it always mortifies the pride of the conceit, by reflecting
how much I owe to the complexional philosophy of this poor fellow for
shaming me into one of a better kind.


_III.--The Passport--Paris_

When I got home to my hotel, La Fleur told me I had been enquired after
by the lieutenant of police. "The deuce take it," said I, "I know the
reason."

I had left London with so much precipitation that it never enter'd my
mind that we were at war with France; and had reached Dover, and looked
through my glass at the hills beyond Boulogne, before the idea presented
itself; and with this in its train, that there was no getting there
without a passport. Go but to the end of a street, I have a mortal
aversion for returning back no wiser than I set out; and as this was one
of the greatest efforts I had ever made for knowledge, I could less bear
the thoughts of it; so hearing the Count de ---- had buried the packet, I
begged he would take me in his _suite_. The count had some little
knowledge of me, so made little or no difficulty--only said his
inclination to serve me could reach no further than Calais, as he was to
return by way of Brussels to Paris; however, when I had once passed
there I might get to Paris without interruption; but that in Paris I
must make friends and shift for myself. "Let me get to Paris, Monsieur
le Comte," said I, "and I shall do very well." So I embark'd, and never
thought more of the matter.

When La Fleur told me the lieutenant of police had been enquiring after
me--the thing instantly recurred--and by the time La Fleur had well told
me, the master of the hotel came into my room to tell me the same thing
with this addition to it, that my passport had been particularly asked
after. The master of the hotel concluded with saying he hoped I had one.
"Not I, faith!" said I.

The master of the hotel retired three steps from me, as from an infected
person, as I declared this, and poor La Fleur advanced three steps
towards me, and with that sort of movement which a good soul makes to
succour a distress'd one--the fellow won my heart by it; and from that
single _trait_ I knew his character as perfectly, and could rely upon it
as firmly, as if he had served me with fidelity for seven years.

"_Mon Seigneur!_" cried the master of the hotel--but recollecting
himself as he made the exclamation, he instantly changed the tone of
it--"If Monsieur," said he, "has not a passport, in all likelihood he
has friends in Paris who can procure him one."

"Not that I know of," quoth I, with an air of indifference.

"Then, _certes_," replied he, "you'll be sent to the Bastille or the
Chatelet, _au moins_."

"Pooh!" said I, "the King of France is a good-natur'd soul--he'll hurt
nobody."

"_Cela n'empèche pas_," said he--"You will certainly be sent to the
Bastille to-morrow morning."

"But I've taken your lodgings for a month," answered I, "and I'll not
quit them a day before the time for all the kings of France in the
world." La Fleur whispered in my ear, that nobody could oppose the King
of France.

"_Pardi!_" said my host, "_ces Messieurs Anglais sont des gens très
extraordinaires_"--And having said and sworn it he went out.

_VII.--Le Pâtissier--Versailles_

As I am at Versailles, thought I, why should I not go to the Count de
B----, and tell him my story? So seeing a man standing with a basket on
the other side of the street, as if he had something to sell, I bid La
Fleur go up to him and enquire for the count's hotel.

La Fleur returned a little pale; and told me it was a Chevalier de St.
Louis selling pâtés. He had seen the croix set in gold, with its red
ribband, he said, tied to his button-hole--and had looked into the
basket and seen the pâtés which the chevalier was selling.

Such a reverse in man's life awakens a better principle than
curiosity--I got out of the carriage and went towards him. He was begirt
with a clean linen apron, which fell below his knees, and with a sort of
bib that went half way-up his breast; upon the top of this hung his
croix. His basket of little pâtés was covered over with a white damask
napkin; and there was a look of _propreté_ and neatness throughout, that
one might have bought his pâtés of him, as much from appetite as
sentiment.

He was about 48--of a sedate look, something approaching to gravity. I
did not wonder--I went up rather to the basket than him, and having
lifted up the napkin, and taken one of his pâtés into my hand I begged
he would explain the appearance which affected me.

He told me in a few words, that the best part of his life had pass'd in
the service, in which he had obtained a company and the croix with it;
but that, at the conclusion of the last peace, his regiment being
re-formed and the whole corps left without any provision, he found
himself in a wide world without friends, without a livre--"And indeed,"
said he, "without anything but this" (pointing, as he said it, to his
croix). The king could neither relieve nor reward everyone, and it was
only his misfortune to be amongst the number. He had a little wife, he
said, whom he loved, who did the _pâtisserie_; and added, he felt no
dishonour in defending her and himself from want in this way--unless
Providence had offer'd him a better.

It would be wicked to pass over what happen'd to this poor Chevalier of
St. Louis about nine months after.

It seems his story reach'd at last the king's ear--who, hearing the
chevalier had been a gallant officer, broke up his little trade by a
pension of 1,500 livres a year.




VOLTAIRE

Letters on the English


_I.--The Quakers_

  Voltaire (see HISTORY) reached England in 1726. He had
  quarrelled with a great noble, and the great noble's
  lackeys had roundly thrashed him. Voltaire accordingly
  issued a challenge to a duel; his adversary's reply was to
  get him sent to prison, from which he was released on
  condition that he leave immediately for England. He
  remained there until 1729, and these three years may
  fairly be said to have been the making of Voltaire. He
  went with a reputation as an elegant young poet and
  dramatist--he was then thirty-two; and this reputation
  brought him into the society of the most famous political
  and literary personages of the day. He became a disciple
  of Newton, and gained a broad, if not a deep, knowledge of
  philosophy. He left in 1729 fully equipped for his later
  and greater career as philosopher, historian, and
  satirist. The "Philosophic Letters on the English" were
  definitely published, after various difficulties, in 1734;
  an English translation, however, appeared in 1733. The
  difficulties did not cease with publication, for the
  French authorities were grievously displeased with
  Voltaire's acid comparisons between the political and
  intellectual liberty enjoyed by Englishmen with the
  bondage of his own countrymen. The "Philosophic Letters"
  purported to be addressed to the author's friend Theriot;
  but they would seem to be essays in an epistolary form
  rather than actual correspondence. Of England and its
  people, Voltaire was both an observant and an appreciative
  critic; hosts and guest alike had reason to be pleased
  with his long and profitable visit.

My curiosity having been aroused regarding the doctrines and history of
these singular people, I sought to satisfy it by a visit to one of the
most celebrated of English Quakers. He was a well-preserved old man, who
had never known illness, because he had never yielded to passion or
intemperance; not in all my life have I seen a man of an aspect at once
so noble and so engaging. He received me with his hat on his head, and
advanced towards me without the slightest bow; but there was far more
courtesy in the open kindliness of his countenance than is to be seen in
the custom of dragging one leg behind the other, or of holding in the
hand that which was meant to cover the head.

"Sir," I said, bowing low, and gliding one foot towards him, after our
manner, "I flatter myself that my honest curiosity will not displease
you, and that you will be willing to do me the honour of instructing me
as to your religion."

"The folk of thy country," he replied, "are too prone to paying
compliments and making reverences; but I have never seen one of them who
had the same curiosity as thou. Enter, and let us dine together."

After a healthy and frugal meal, I set myself to questioning him. I
opened with the old enquiry of good Catholics to Huguenots. "My dear
sir," I said to him, "have you been baptised?"

"No," answered the Quaker, "neither I nor my brethren."

"_Morbleu!_" I replied, "then you are not Christians?"

"Swear not, my son," he said gently; "we try to be good Christians; but
we believe not that Christianity consists in throwing cold water on the
head, with a little salt."

"_Ventrebleu!_" I retorted, "have you forgotten that Jesus Christ was
baptised by John?"

"Once more, my friend, no swearing," replied the mild Quaker. "Christ
was baptised by John, but himself baptised no one. We are disciples of
Christ, not of John."

He proceeded to give me briefly the reasons for some peculiarities which
expose this sect to the sneers of others. "Confess," he said, "that thou
hast had much ado not to smile at my accepting thy courtesies with my
hat on my head, and at my calling thee 'thou.' Yet thou must surely know
that at the time of Christ no nation was so foolish as to substitute the
plural for the singular. It was not until long afterwards that men
began to call each other 'you' instead of 'thou,' as if they were
double, and to usurp the impudent titles of Majesty, Eminence, Holiness,
that some worms of the earth bestow on other worms. It is the better to
guard ourselves against this unworthy interchange of lies and flatteries
that we address kings and cobblers in the same terms, and offer
salutations to nobody; since for men we have nothing but charity, and
respect only for the laws.

"We don a costume differing a little from that of other men as a
constant reminder that we are unlike them. Others wear the tokens of
their dignities; we wear those of Christian humility. We never take an
oath, not even in a court of justice; for we think that the name of the
Almighty should not be prostituted in the miserable wranglings of men.
We never go to war--not because we fear death; on the contrary, we bless
the moment that unites us with the Being of Beings; but because we are
not wolves, nor tigers, nor bulldogs, but Christian men, whom God has
commanded to love our enemies and suffer without murmuring. When London
is illuminated after a victory, when the air is filled with the pealing
of bells and the roar of cannon, we mourn in silence over the murders
that have stirred the people to rejoice."


_II.--Anglicans and Presbyterians_

This is the land of sects. An Englishman is a free man, and goes to
Heaven by any road he pleases.

But although anybody may serve God after his own fashion, their true
religion, the one in which fortunes are made, is the Episcopal sect,
called the Anglican Church, or, simply and pre-eminently, the Church. No
office can be held in England or Ireland except by faithful Anglicans; a
circumstance which has led to the conversion of many Noncomformists.

The Anglican clergy have retained many Catholic ceremonies, above all
that of receiving tithes with a most scrupulous attention. They have
also a pious ambition for religious ascendancy, and do what they can to
foment a holy zeal against Nonconformists. But a Whig ministry is just
now in power, and the Whigs are hostile to Episcopacy. They have
prohibited the lower clergy from meeting in convocation, a sort of
clerical house of commons; and the clergy are limited to the obscurity
of their parishes, and to the melancholy task of praying God for a
government that they would be only too happy to disturb. The bishops,
however, sit in the House of Lords in spite of the Whigs, because the
old abuse continues of counting them as barons.

As regards morals, the Anglican clergy are better regulated than those
of France, for these reasons:--they are all educated at Oxford or
Cambridge, far from the corruption of the capital; and they are only
called to high church office late in life, at an age when men have lost
every passion but avarice. They do not make bishops or colonels here of
young men fresh from college. Moreover, the clergy are nearly all
married, and the ill manners contracted at the universities, and the
slightness of the intercourse between men and women, oblige a bishop as
a rule to be content with his own wife. Priests sometimes frequent inns,
for custom permits it; and if they get drunk, they do so discreetly and
without scandal.

When English clergymen hear that in France young men, famous for their
dissipations, and elevated to bishoprics by the intrigues of women, make
love publicly, amuse themselves by writing amorous ballads, give
elaborate suppers every day, and, in addition, pray for the light of the
Holy Spirit, and boldly call themselves the successors of the Apostles;
the Englishmen thank God that they are Protestants. But they are vile
heretics, to be burnt by all the devils, as Rabelais puts it; which is
the reason why I have nothing to do with them.

The Anglican religion only embraces England and Ireland.
Presbyterianism, which is Calvanism pure and simple, is the dominant
religion in Scotland. Its ministers affect a sober gait and an air of
displeasure, wear enormous hats, and long cloaks over short coats,
preach through their noses, and give the name of "Scarlet Woman" to all
churches who have ecclesiastics fortunate enough to draw fifty thousand
livres of income, and laymen good-natured enough to stand it.

Although the Episcopal and Presbyterian sects are the two prevailing
ones in Great Britain, all others are welcome, and all live fairly well
together; although most of their preachers detest each other with all
the heartiness of a Jansenist damning a Jesuit.

Were there but one religion in England, there would be a danger of
despotism; were there but two, they would cut each other's throats. But
there are thirty, and accordingly they dwell together in peace and
happiness.


_III.--The Government_

The members of the English Parliament are fond of comparing themselves
with the ancient Romans; but except that there are some senators in
London who are suspected, wrongly, no doubt, of selling their votes, I
can see nothing in common between Rome and England. The two nations, for
good or ill, are entirely different.

The horrible folly of religious wars was unknown among the Romans; this
abomination has been reserved for the devotees of a faith of humility
and patience. But a more essential difference between Rome and England,
and one in which the latter has all the advantage, is that the fruit of
the Roman civil wars was slavery, while that of the English civil wars
has been liberty. The English nation is the only one on earth that has
succeeded in tempering the power of kings by resisting them. By effort
upon effort it has succeeded in establishing a wise government in which
the Prince, all-powerful for the doing of good, has his hands tied for
the doing of evil; where the nobles are great without insolence and
without vassals; and where the people, without confusion, take their due
share in the control of national affairs.

The Houses of Lords and Commons are the arbiters of the nation, the King
is the over-arbiter. This balance was lacking among the Romans; nobles
and people were always at issue, and there was no intermediary power to
reconcile them.

It has cost a great deal, no doubt, to establish liberty in England; the
idol of despotic power has been drowned in seas of blood. But the
English do not think they have bought their freedom at too high a price.
Other nations have not had fewer troubles, have not shed less blood; but
the blood they have shed in the cause of their liberty has but cemented
their servitude.

This happy concert of King, Lords, and Commons in the government of
England has not always existed. England was for ages a country sorely
oppressed. But in the clashes of kings and nobles, it fortunately
happens that the bonds of the peoples are more or less relaxed. English
liberty was born of the quarrels of tyrants. The chief object of the
famous Magna Charta, let it be admitted, was to place the kings in
dependence upon the barons; but the rest of the nation was favoured also
in some degree in order that it might range itself on the side of its
professed protectors. The power of the nobility was undermined by Henry
VII., and the later kings have been wont to create new peers from time
to time with the idea of preserving the order of the peerage which they
formerly feared so profoundly, and counterbalancing the steadily-growing
strength of the Commons.

A man is not, in this country, exempt from certain taxes because he is a
noble or a priest; all taxation is controlled by the House of Commons,
which, although second in rank, is first in power.

The House of Lords may reject the bill of the Commons for taxation;
but it may not amend it; the Lords must either reject it or accept it
entire. When the bill is confirmed by the Lords and approved by the
King, then everybody pays--not according to his quality (which is
absurd), but according to his revenue. There are no poll-taxes or other
arbitrary levies, but a land tax, which remains the same, even although
the revenues from lands increase, so that nobody suffers extortion, and
nobody complains. The peasant's feet are not tortured by sabots; he eats
white bread; he dresses well; he need not hesitate to increase his stock
or tile his roof, for fear that next year he will have to submit to new
exactions by the tax-gatherer.


_IV.--Commerce_

Commerce, which has enriched the citizens in England, has contributed to
make them free, and freedom has in its turn extended commerce. Thereby
has been erected the greatness of the State. It is commerce which has
gradually established the naval forces through which the English are
masters of the sea.

An English merchant is quite justly proud of himself and his occupation;
he likes to compare himself, not without some warrant, with a Roman
citizen. The younger sons of noblemen do not despise a business career.
Lord Townsend, a Minister of State, has a brother who is content to be a
city merchant. When Lord Oxford governed England, his younger son was a
commercial agent at Aleppo, whence he refused to return, and where some
years ago he died.

This custom, which is unfortunately dying out, would seem monstrous to
German grandees with quarterings on the brain. In Germany they are all
princes; they cannot conceive that the son of a Peer of England would
lower himself to be a rich and powerful citizen. There have been in
Germany nearly thirty highnesses of the same name, not one of them with
a scrap of property beyond his coat of arms and his pride.

In France, anybody who likes may be a marquis, and whosoever arrives
from the corner of some province, with money to spend and a name ending
with Ac or Ille, may say, "a man such as I, a man of my quality," and
may show sovereign contempt for a mere merchant. The merchant so often
hears his occupation spoken of with disdain that he is fool enough to
blush for it. Yet I cannot tell which is the more valuable to the
State--a well-powdered lordling, who knows precisely at what hour the
king rises, and at what hour he goes to bed, and who assumes airs of
loftiness when playing the slave in a minister's ante-chamber; or a
merchant who enriches his country, issues from his office orders to
Surat and Cairo, and contributes to the happiness of the world.


_V.--Tragedy and Comedy_

The drama of England, like that of Spain, was fully grown when the
French drama was in a state of childishness. Shakespeare, who is
accounted to be the English Corneille, flourished at about the same time
as Lope de Vega; and it was Shakespeare who created the English drama.
He possessed a fertile and powerful genius, that had within its scope
both the normal and the sublime; but he ignored rules entirely, and had
not the smallest spark of good taste. It is a risky thing to say, but
true nevertheless--this author has ruined the English drama. In these
monstrous farces of his, called tragedies, there are scenes so
beautiful, fragments so impressive and terrible, that the pieces have
always been played with immense success. Time, which alone makes the
reputation of men, ultimately condones their defects. Most of the
fantastic and colossal creations of this author have with the lapse of
two centuries established a claim to be considered sublime; most of the
modern authors have copied him; but where Shakespeare is applauded,
they are hissed, and you can believe that the veneration in which the
old author is held increases proportionately to the contempt for the new
ones. It is not considered that he should not be copied; the failure of
his imitators only leads to his being thought inimitable. You are aware
that in the tragedy of the Moor of Venice, a very touching piece, a
husband smothers his wife on the stage, and that when the poor woman is
being smothered, she cries out that she is unjustly slain. You know that
in "Hamlet" the grave-diggers drink, and sing catches while digging a
grave, and joke about the skulls they come across in a manner suited to
the class of men who do such work. But it will surprise you to learn
that these vulgarities were imitated during the reign of Charles
II.--the heyday of polite manners, the golden age of the fine arts.

The first Englishman to write a really sane tragic piece, elegant from
beginning to end, was the illustrious Mr. Addison. His "Cato in Utica"
is a masterpiece in diction and in beauty of verse. Cato himself seems
to me the finest character in any drama; but the others are far inferior
to him, and the piece is disfigured by a most unconvincing love-intrigue
which inflicts a weariness that kills the play. The custom of dragging
in a superfluous love-affair came from Paris to London, along with our
ribbons and our wigs, about 1660. The ladies who adorn the theatres with
their presence insist upon hearing of nothing but love. The wise Addison
was weak enough to bend the severity of his nature in compliance with
the manners of his time; he spoilt a masterpiece through simple desire
to please.

Since "Cato," dramas have become more regular, audiences more exacting,
authors more correct and less daring. I have seen some new plays that
are judicious, but uninspiring. It would seem that the English, so far,
have only been meant to produce irregular beauties. The brilliant
monstrosities of Shakespeare please a thousand times more than discreet
modern productions. The poetic genius of the English, up to now,
resembles a gnarled tree planted by nature, casting out branches right
and left, growing unequally and forcefully; seek to shape it into the
trim likeness of the trees of the garden at Marly, and it perishes.

The man who has carried farthest the glory of the English comic stage is
Mr. Congreve. He has written few pieces, but all excellent of their
kind. The rules are carefully observed, and the plays are full of
characters shaded with extreme delicacy. Mr. Congreve was infirm and
almost dying when I met him. He had one fault--that of looking down upon
the profession which had brought him fame and fortune. He spoke of his
works to me as trifles beneath his notice, and asked me to regard him
simply as a private gentleman who lived very plainly. I replied that if
he had had the misfortune to be merely a private gentleman like anybody
else, I should never have gone to see him. His ill-placed vanity
disgusted me.

His comedies, however, are the neatest and choicest on the English
stage; Vanbrugh's are the liveliest, and Wycherley's the most vigorous.

Do not ask me to give details of these English comedies that I admire so
keenly; laughter cannot be communicated in a translation. If you wish to
know English comedy, there is nothing for it but to go to London for
three years, learn English thoroughly, and see a comedy every day.

It is otherwise with tragedy; tragedy is concerned with great passions
and heroic follies consecrated by ancient errors in fable and history.
Electra belongs to the Spaniards, to the English, and to ourselves as
much as to the Greeks; but comedy is the living portraiture of a
nation's absurdities, and unless you know the nation through and
through, it is not for you to judge the portraits.




ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE

Travels on the Amazon


_I.--First View_

  Alfred Russel Wallace, eminent as traveller, author, and
  naturalist, was born January 8, 1822, at Usk, in Wales.
  Till 1845 he followed as an architect and land-surveyor
  the profession for which he had been trained, but after
  that time he engaged assiduously in natural history
  researches. With Mr. Bates, the noted traveller and
  explorer and writer, he spent four years in the romantic
  regions of the Amazon basin, and next went to the Malay
  Islands, where he remained for eight years, making
  collections of geological specimens. It is one of the most
  remarkable coincidences in human experience that Wallace
  and Darwin simultaneously and without mutual understanding
  of any kind achieved the discovery of the law of natural
  selection and the evolution hypothesis by which biological
  science has been completely revolutionized. This
  absolutely independent accomplishment by two scientists
  amazed them as well as the whole scientific world. The
  voluminous works of this author, besides the record of his
  Amazon expedition, include his "Malay Archipelago,"
  "Contributions to the Theory of Natural Selection,"
  "Miracles and Spiritualism," "The Geographical
  Distribution of Animals," "Tropical Nature,"
  "Australasia," "Island Life," "Land Nationalisation,"
  "Darwinism," and "Man's Place in the Universe."

It was on the morning of the 26th of May, 1848, that after a short
passage of twenty-nine days from Liverpool, we came to anchor opposite
the southern entrance to the River Amazon, and obtained a first view of
South America. In the afternoon the pilot came on board, and the next
morning we sailed with a fair wind up the river, which for fifty miles
could only be distinguished from the ocean by its calmness and
discoloured water, the northern shore being invisible, and the southern
at a distance of ten or twelve miles.

Early on the morning of the 28th we again anchored; and when the sun
arose in a cloudless sky, the city of Pará, surrounded by a dense
forest, and overtopped by palms and plantains, greeted our sight,
appearing doubly beautiful from the presence of those luxuriant tropical
productions in a state of nature, which we had so often admired in the
conservatories of Kew and Chatsworth.

The canoes passing with their motley crews of Negroes and Indians, the
vultures soaring overhead or walking lazily on the beach, and the crowds
of swallows on the churches and housetops, all served to occupy our
attention till the custom-house officers visited us, and we were allowed
to go on shore. Pará contains about 15,000 inhabitants and does not
occupy a great extent of ground; yet it is the largest city on the
greatest river in the world, the Amazon, and is the capital of a
province equal in extent to all western Europe. We proceeded to the
house of the consignee of our vessel, Mr. Miller, by whom we were most
kindly received and accommodated in his "rosinha," or suburban villa.

We hired an old Negro man named Isidora for a cook, and regularly
commenced housekeeping, learning Portuguese, and investigating the
natural productions of the country. Having arrived at Pará at the end of
the wet season, we did not at first see all the glories of the
vegetation. The beauty of the palm-trees can scarcely be too highly
drawn. In the forest a few miles out of the town trees of enormous
height, of various species, rise on every side. Climbing and parasitic
plants, with large shining leaves, run up the trunks, while others, with
fantastic stems, hang like ropes and cables from their summits.

Most striking of all are the passion-flowers, purple, scarlet, or pale
pink; the purple ones have an exquisite perfume, and they all produce an
agreeable fruit, the grenadilla of the West Indies. The immense number
of orange-trees about the city is an interesting feature, and renders
that delicious fruit always abundant and cheap. The mango is also
abundant, and on every roadside the coffee-tree is seen growing,
generally with flower or fruit, often with both.

Turning our attention to the world of animal life, the lizards first
attract notice, for they abound everywhere, running along walls and
palings, sunning themselves on logs of wood, or creeping up the eaves of
the lower houses. The ants cannot fail to be noticed. At meals they make
themselves at home on the tablecloth, in your plate, and in the
sugar-basin.

At first we employed ourselves principally in collecting insects, and in
about three weeks I and Mr. B. had captured upwards of 150 species of
butterflies. The species seemed inexhaustible, and the exquisite
colouring and variety of marking is wonderful.


_II.--The Wonderful Forest_

On the morning of June 23rd we started early to walk to the rice-mills
and wood-yard at Magoary, which we had been invited to visit by the
proprietor, Mr. Upton, and the manager, Mr. Leavens, both American
gentlemen. At about two miles from the city we entered the virgin
forest, where we saw giant trees covered to the summit with parasites
upon parasites. The herbage consisted for the most part of ferns. At the
wood-mills we saw the different kinds of timber used, both in logs and
boards.

What most interested us were large logs of the Masseranduba, or
milk-tree. On our way through the forest we had seen some trunks much
notched by persons who had been extracting the milk. It is one of the
noblest trees of the forest, rising with a straight stem to an enormous
height. The timber is very hard, durable, and valuable; the fruit is
very good and full of rich pulp; but strangest of all is the vegetable
milk which exudes in abundance when the bark is cut. It is like thick
cream, scarcely to be distinguished in flavour from the product of the
cow. Next morning some of it was given to us in our tea at breakfast by
Mr. Leavens. The milk is also used for making excellent glue.

During our stay at the mills for several days to me the greatest treat
was making my first acquaintance with the monkeys. One morning, when
walking alone in the forest, I heard a rustling of the leaves and
branches. Looking up, I saw a large monkey staring down at me, and
seeming as much astonished as I was myself. He speedily retreated. The
next day, being out with Mr. Leavens, near the same place, we heard a
similar sound, and it soon became evident that a whole troop of monkeys
was approaching.

We hid ourselves under some trees and with guns cocked awaited their
coming. Presently we caught sight of them skipping from tree to tree
with the greatest ease, and at last one approached too near for its
safety, for Mr. Leavens fired and it fell. Having often heard how good
monkey was, I took it home and had it cut up and fried for breakfast.
There was about as much of it as a fowl, and the meat something
resembled rabbit, without any peculiar or unpleasant flavour.

On August 3rd we received a fresh inmate into our veranda in the person
of a fine young boa constrictor. A man who had caught it in the forest
left it for our inspection. It was about ten feet long, and very large,
being as thick as a man's thigh. Here it lay writhing about for two or
three days, dragging its clog along with it, sometimes stretching its
mouth open with a most suspicious yawn, and twisting up the end of its
tail into a very tight curl. We purchased it of its captor for 4s. 6d.
and got him to put it into a cage which we constructed. It immediately
began to make up for lost time by breathing most violently, the
expirations sounding like high-pressure steam escaping from a Great
Western locomotive. This it continued for some hours and then settled
down into silence which it maintained unless when disturbed or
irritated. Though it was without food for more than a week, the birds we
gave it were refused, even when alive. Rats are said to be their
favourite food, but these we could not procure.

Another interesting little animal was a young sloth, which Antonio, an
Indian boy, brought alive from the forest. It could scarcely crawl along
the ground, but appeared quite at home on a chair, hanging on the back,
legs, or rail.


_III.--On the Pará Tributary_

On the afternoon of August 26th we left Pará for the Tocantins. Mr.
Leavens had undertaken to arrange all the details of the voyage. He had
hired one of the roughly made but convenient country canoes, having a
tolda, or palm-thatched roof, like a gipsy's tent, over the stern, which
formed our cabin. The canoe had two masts and fore and aft sails, and
was about 24 feet long and eight wide.

Besides our guns, ammunition and boxes for our collections, we had a
stock of provisions for three months. Our crew consisted of old Isidora,
as cook; Alexander, an Indian from the mills, who was named Captain;
Domingo, who had been up the river, and was therefore to be our pilot;
and Antonio, the boy before mentioned.

Soon after leaving the city night came on, and the tide running against
us, we had to anchor. We were up at five the next morning, and found
that we were in the Mojú, up which our way lay, and which enters the
Pará river from the south. We breakfasted on board, and about two in the
afternoon reached Jighery, a very pretty spot, with steep grassy banks,
cocoa and other palms, and oranges in profusion. Here we stayed for the
tide, and I and Mr. B. went in search of insects, which we found to be
rather abundant, and immediately took two species of butterflies we had
never seen at Pará.

Our men had caught a sloth in the morning, as it was swimming across the
river, which was about half a mile wide. It was different from the
species we had alive at Pará, having a patch of short yellow and black
fur on the back. The Indians stewed it for their dinner, and as they
consider the meat a great delicacy, I tasted it, and found it tender and
very palatable. In the evening the scene was lovely. The groups of
elegant palms, the large cotton-trees, relieved against the golden sky,
the Negro houses surrounded with orange and mango trees, the grassy
bank, the noble river, and the background of eternal forest, all
softened by the mellowed light of the magical half-hour after sunset
formed a picture indescribably beautiful.

Returning to Pará we remained there till November 3rd, when we left for
the island of Mexiana, situated in the main stream of the Amazon,
between the great island of Marajó, and the northern shore. We had to go
down the Pará river, and round the eastern point of Marajó, where we
were quite exposed to the ocean; and, though most of the time in fresh
water, I was very seasick all the voyage, which lasted four days.

The island of Mexiana is about 25 miles long by 12 broad, of a regular
oval shape, and is situated exactly on the equator. It is celebrated for
its birds, alligators, and oncas, and is used as a cattle estate by the
proprietor. The alligators abound in a lake in the centre of the island,
where they are killed in great numbers for their fat, which is made into
oil.

On inquiring about the best localities for insects, birds, and plants,
we were rather alarmed by being told that oncas were very numerous, even
near the house, and that it was dangerous to walk out alone or unarmed.
We soon found, however, that no one had been actually attacked by them;
though they, poor animals, are by no means unmolested, as numerous
handsome skins drying in the sun, and teeth and skulls lying about,
sufficiently proved.

Light-coloured, long-tailed cuckoos were continually flying about.
Equally abundant are the hornbill cuckoos, and on almost every tree may
be seen sitting a hawk or a buzzard. Pretty parroquets, with white and
orange bands on their wings, were very plentiful. Then among the bushes
there were flocks of the red-breasted oriole. The common black vulture
is generally to be seen sailing overhead, the great Muscovy ducks fly
past with a rushing sound, offering a striking contrast to the great
wood-ibis, which sails along with noiseless wings in flocks of ten or a
dozen.


_IV.--Continuing Upstream_

We now prepared for our voyage up the Amazon; and, from information we
obtained of the country, determined first to go as far as Santarem, a
town about 500 miles up the river, and the seat of considerable trade.
We sailed up a fine stream till we entered among islands, and soon got
into the narrow channel which forms the communication between the Pará
and Amazon rivers.

We proceeded for several days in those narrow channels, which form a
network of water, a labyrinth quite unknown, except to the inhabitants
of the district. It was about ten days after we left Pará that the
stream began to widen out and the tide to flow into the Amazon instead
of into the Pará river, giving us the longer ebb to make way with. In
about two days more we were in the Amazon itself, and it was with
emotions of admiration and awe that we gazed upon the stream of this
mighty and far-famed river. What a grand idea it was to think that we
now saw the accumulated waters of a course of 3,000 miles. Venezuela,
Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, and Brazil, six mighty states,
spreading over a country far larger than Europe, had each contributed to
form the flood which bore us so peacefully on its bosom.

The most striking features of the Amazon are its vast expanse of smooth
water, generally from three to six miles wide; its pale, yellowish-olive
colour; the great beds of aquatic grass which line its shores, large
masses of which are often detached and form floating islands; the
quantity of fruits and leaves and great trunks of trees which it carries
down, and its level banks clad with lofty unbroken forest.

There is much animation, too, on this giant stream. Numerous flocks of
parrots, and the great red and yellow macaws, fly across every morning
and evening, uttering their hoarse cries. Many kinds of herons and rails
frequent the marshes on its banks; but perhaps the most characteristic
birds of the Amazon are the gulls and terns, which are in great
abundance. Besides these there are divers and darters in immense
numbers. Porpoises are constantly blowing in every direction, and
alligators are often seen slowly swimming across the river.

At length, after a prolonged voyage of 28 days, we reached Santarem, at
the mouth of the river Tapajoz, whose blue, transparent waters formed a
most pleasing contrast to the turbid stream of the Amazon. We stayed at
Santarem during September, October, and November, working hard till
three in the afternoon each day, generally collecting some new and
interesting insects in the forest. Here was the haunt of the beautiful
"Callithea sapphirs," one of the most lovely of butterflies, and of
numerous brilliant little "Erycinidæ."

The constant exercise, pure air, and good living, notwithstanding the
intense heat, kept us in the most perfect health, and I have never
altogether enjoyed myself so much.


_V.--The City of Barra_

On December 31, 1849, we arrived at the city of Barra on the Rio Negro.
It is situated on the east bank of that tributary, about twelve miles
above its junction with the Amazon. The trade is chiefly in Brazil
nuts, sarsaparilla, and fish. The distance up the Amazon from Pará to
Barra is about 1,000 miles. The voyage often occupies from two to three
months. The more civilized inhabitants of the city are all engaged in
trade, and have literally no amusements whatever, unless drinking and
gambling on a small scale can be so considered: most of them never open
a book, or have any mental occupation.

The Rio Negro well deserves its name--"inky black." For its waters,
where deep, are of dense blackness. There are striking differences
between this river and the Amazon. Here are no islands of floating
grass, no logs and uprooted trees, with their cargoes of gulls, scarcely
any stream, and few signs of life in the black and sluggish waters. Yet
when there is a storm, there are greater and more dangerous waves than
on the Amazon. At Barra the Rio Negro is a mile and a half wide. A few
miles up it widens considerably, in many places forming deep bays eight
or ten miles across.

In this region are found the umbrella birds. One evening a specimen was
brought me by a hunter. This singular bird is about the size of a raven.
On its head it bears a crest, different from that of any other bird. It
can be laid back so as to be hardly visible, or can be erected and
spread out on every side, forming a hemispherical dome, completely
covering the head. In a month I obtained 25 specimens of the umbrella
bird.

The river Uaupés is a tributary of the Upper Rio Negro, and a voyage up
this stream brought us into singular regions. Our canoe was worked by
Indians. In one of the Indian villages we witnessed a grand snake dance.
The dancers were entirely unclad, but were painted in all kinds of
curious designs, and the male performers wear on the top of the head a
fine broad plume of the tail-coverts of the white egret. The Indians
keep these noble birds in great open houses or cages; but as the birds
are rare, and the young with difficulty secured, the ornament is one
that few possess. Cords of monkeys' hair, decorated with small feathers,
hang down the back, and in the ears are the little downy plumes, forming
altogether a most imposing and elegant headdress.

The paint with which both men and women decorate their bodies has a very
neat effect, and gives them almost the aspect of being dressed, and as
such they seem to regard it. The dancers had made two huge artificial
snakes of twigs and branches bound together, from thirty to forty feet
long and a foot in diameter, painted a bright red colour. This made
altogether a very formidable looking animal. They divided themselves
into two parties of about a dozen each and, lifting the snake on their
shoulders, began dancing.

In the dance they imitated the undulations of the serpent, raising the
head and twisting the tail. In the manoeuvres which followed, the two
great snakes seemed to fight, till the dance, which had greatly pleased
all the spectators, was concluded.


_VI.--Devil-Music_

In another village I first saw and heard the "Juripari", or devil-music
of the Indians. One evening there was a drinking-feast; and a little
before dusk a sound as of trombones and bassoons was heard coming on the
river towards the village, and presently appeared eight Indians, each
playing on a great bassoon-looking instrument, made of bark spirally
twisted, and with a mouthpiece of leaves. The sound produced is wild and
pleasing.

The players waved their instruments about in a singular manner,
accompanied by corresponding contortions of the body. From the moment
the music was first heard, not a female, old or young, was to be seen;
for it is one of the strangest superstitions of the Uaupés Indians, that
they consider it so dangerous for a woman ever to see one of these
instruments, that, having done so, she is punished with death, generally
by poison.

Even should the view be perfectly accidental, or should there be only a
suspicion that the proscribed articles have been seen, no mercy is
shown; and it is said that fathers have been the executioners of their
own daughters, and husbands of their wives, when such has been the case.


_VII.--The World's Greatest River Basin_

The basin of the Amazon surpasses in dimensions that of any other river
in the world. It is entirely situated in the tropics, on both sides of
the equator, and receives over its whole extent the most abundant rains.
The body of fresh water emptied by it into the ocean is, therefore, far
greater than that of any other river. For richness of vegetable
productions and universal fertility of soil it is unequalled on the
globe.

The whole area of this wonderful region is 2,330,000 square miles. This
is more than a third of all South America, and equal to two-thirds of
all Europe. All western Europe could be placed within its basin, without
touching its boundaries, and it would even contain our whole Indian
empire.

Perhaps no country in the world contains such an amount of vegetable
matter on its surface as the valley of the Amazon. Its entire extent,
with the exception of some very small portions, is covered with one
dense and lofty primeval forest, the most extensive and unbroken which
exists on the earth. It is the great feature of the country--that which
at once stamps it as a unique and peculiar region. Here we may travel
for weeks and months in any direction, and scarcely find an acre of
ground unoccupied by trees. The forests of the Amazon are distinguished
from those of most other countries by the great variety of species of
trees composing them. Instead of extensive tracts covered with pines, or
oaks, or beeches, we scarcely ever see two individuals of the same
species together.

The Brazil nuts are brought chiefly from the interior; the greater part
from the country around the junction of the Rio Negro and Madeira with
the Amazon. The tree takes more than a year to produce and ripen its
fruits, which, as large and as heavy as cannon balls, fall with
tremendous force from the height of a hundred feet, crashing through the
branches and undergrowth, and snapping off large boughs. Persons are
sometimes killed by them.


_VIII.--Splendid Native Races_

Comparing the accounts given by other travellers with my own
observations, the Indians of the Amazon valley appear to be much
superior, both physically and intellectually, to those of South Brazil
and of most other parts of South America. They more closely resemble the
intelligent and noble races inhabiting the western prairies of North
America.

I do not remember a single circumstance in my travels so striking and so
new, or that so well fulfilled all previous expectations, as my first
view of the real uncivilised inhabitants of the Uaupés. I felt that I
was in the midst of something new and startling, as if I had been
instantaneously transported to a distant and unknown country.

The Indians of the Amazon and its tributaries are of a countless variety
of tribes and nations; all of whom have peculiar languages and customs,
and many of them some distinct characteristics. In many individuals of
both sexes the most perfect regularity of features exists, and there are
numbers who in colour alone differ from a good-looking European.

Their figures are generally superb; and I have never felt so much
pleasure in gazing at the finest statue, as at these living
illustrations of the beauty of the human form. The development of the
chest is such as I believe never exists in the best-formed European,
exhibiting a splendid series of convex undulations, without a hollow in
any part of it.

Among the tribes of the Uaupés the men have the hair carefully parted
and combed on each side, and tied in a queue behind. In the young men,
it hangs in long locks down their necks, and, with the comb, which is
invariably carried stuck in the top of the head, gives to them a most
feminine appearance. This is increased by the large necklaces and
bracelets of beads, and the careful extirpation of every symptom of
beard.

Taking these circumstances into consideration, I am strongly of opinion
that the story of the Amazons has arisen from these feminine-looking
warriors encountered by the early voyagers. I am inclined to this
opinion, from the effect they first produced on myself, when it was only
by close examination I saw that they were men.

I cannot make out that these Indians of the Amazon have any belief that
can be called a religion. They appear to have no definite idea of a God.
If asked who made the rivers and the forests and the sky, they will
reply that they do not know, or sometimes that they suppose it was
"Tupanau," a word that appears to answer to God, but of which they
understand nothing. They have much more definite ideas of a bad spirit,
"Jurupari," or Devil, whom they fear, and endeavour through their
"pagés," or sorcerers, to propitiate.

When it thunders, they say that the "Jurupari" is angry, and their idea
of natural death is that the "Jurupari" kills them. At an eclipse they
believe that this bad spirit is killing the moon, and they make all the
noise they can to drive him away. One of the singular facts connected
with these Indians of the Amazon valley is the resemblance between some
of their customs and those of the nations most remote from them. The
gravatana, or blowpipe, reappears in the sumpitan of Borneo; the great
houses of the Uaupés closely resemble those of the Dyaks of the same
country; while many small baskets and bamboo-boxes from Borneo and New
Guinea are so similar in their form and construction to those of the
Amazon, that they would be supposed to belong to adjoining tribes.

The main feature in the personal character of the Indians of this part
of South America is a degree of diffidence, bashfulness, or coldness,
which affects all their actions. It is this that produces their quiet
deliberation, their circuitous way of introducing a subject they have
come to speak about, talking half an hour on different topics before
mentioning it. Owing to this feeling, they will run away if displeased
rather than complain, and will never refuse to undertake what is asked
them, even when they are unable or do not intend to perform it. They
scarcely ever quarrel among themselves, work hard, and submit willingly
to authority. They are ingenious and skilful workmen and readily adopt
any customs of civilised life introduced among them.




ELIOT WARBURTON

The Crescent and the Cross


_I.--Alexandria_

  Bartholomew Eliot George Warburton, who wrote as Eliot
  Warburton, was born in 1810 in Tullamore, Ireland, and
  died in 1852. He graduated at Cambridge, where he was the
  fellow student and intimate friend of Hallam, Monckton
  Milnes, and Kinglake (of "Eothen" fame). He studied law
  and was called to the bar, but instead of practising in
  the legal profession took to a most adventurous career of
  travel, and wrote of his experiences in a spirited and
  romantic style which soon secured him a wide reputation.
  His eight works include "The Crescent and the Cross,"
  which appeared in 1845, after his wanderings in Egypt,
  Syria, Turkey, and Greece; "Memoirs of Prince Rupert," and
  "Darien, or the Merchant Prince." He was sailing for
  Panama, as an agent of the Atlantic and Pacific Company,
  when he was lost in the steamship Amazon, which was burnt
  off Land's End on January 4, 1852. Warburton was beloved
  for his generous, amiable, and chivalrous disposition. His
  peculiar gift for embodying in graphic terms his
  appreciation of striking scenery and his picturesque
  delineation of foreign manners and customs give his works
  a permanent place in the classics of travel.

We took leave of Old England and the Old Year together. On the first of
January we left Southampton; on the evening of the 2nd we took leave of
England at Falmouth. Towards evening, on the 18th day since leaving
England, the low land of Egypt was visible from the mast-head. The only
object visible from the decks was a faint speck on the horizon, but that
speck was Pompey's Pillar. This is the site Alexander selected from his
wide dominions, and which Napoleon pronounced to be unrivalled in
importance. Here stood the great library of antiquity, and here the
Hebrew Scriptures expanded into Greek under the hands of the Septuagint.
Here Cleopatra revelled with her Roman conquerors. Here St. Mark
preached the truth on which Origen attempted to refine, and here
Athanasius held warlike controversy.

The bay is crowded with merchant vessels of every nation. Men-of-war
barges shoot past you with crews dressed in what look like red nightcaps
and white petticoats. Here, an "ocean patriarch" (as the Arabs call
Noah), with white turban and flowing beard, is steering a little ark
filled with unclean-looking animals of every description; and there, a
crew of swarthy Egyptians, naked from the waist upwards, are pulling
some pale-faced strangers to a vessel with loosed top.

The crumbling quays are piled with bales of eastern merchandise,
islanded in a sea of white turbans wreathed over dark, melancholy faces.
High above the variegated crowds peer the long necks of hopeless-looking
camels. Passing through the Arab city, you emerge into the Frank
quarter, a handsome square of tall white houses, over which the flags of
every nation in Europe denote the residences of the various consuls. In
this square is an endless variety of races and costumes most
picturesquely grouped together, and lighted brilliantly by a glowing sun
in a cloudless sky. In one place, a procession of women waddles along,
wrapped in large shroud-like veils from head to foot. In another, a
group of Turks in long flowing drapery are seated in a circle smoking
their chiboukes in silence.


_II.--The Nile_

"Egypt is the gift of the Nile," said one who was bewildered by its
antiquity before our history was born (at least he, Herodotus, was
called the father of it). This is an exotic land. That river, winding
like a serpent through its paradise, has brought it from far regions.
Those quiet plains have tumbled down the cataracts; those demure gardens
have flirted with the Isle of Flowers (Elephantina), five hundred miles
away; and those very pyramids have floated down the waves of Nile. In
short, to speak chemically, that river is a solution of Ethiopia's
richest regions, and that vast country is merely a precipitate.

Arrived at Alexandria, the traveller is yet far distant from the Nile.
The Canopic mouth is long since closed up by the mud of Ethiopia, and
the Arab conquerors of Egypt were obliged to form a canal to connect
this seaport with the river. Under the Mamelukes, this canal had also
become choked up. When Mehemet Ali rose to power his clear intellect at
once comprehended the importance of the ancient emporium. Alexandria was
then become a mere harbour for pirates. The desert and the sea were
gradually encroaching on its boundaries, but the Pasha ordered the
desert to bring forth corn and the sea to retire. Up rose a stately city
of 60,000 inhabitants, and as suddenly yawned the canal which was to
connect the new city with the Nile.

In the greatness and cruelty of its accomplishment, this Mahmoudie canal
may vie with the gigantic labours of the Pharaohs. From the villages of
the delta were swept 250,000 men, women, and children, and heaped like a
ridge along the banks of the fatal canal. They had only provisions for a
month, and famine soon made its appearance. It was a fearful sight to
see the multitude convulsively working against time. As a dying horse
bites the ground in his agony, they tore up that great grave--25,000
people perished, but the grim contract was completed, and in six weeks
the waters of the Nile were led to Alexandria.

It was midnight when we arrived at Atfeh, the point of junction with the
Nile. We are now on the sacred river. In some hours we emerged from the
Rosetta branch and the prospect began to improve. Villages sheltered by
graceful groups of palm-trees, mosques, green plains, and at length the
desert--the most imposing sight in the world, except the sea. We felt
we were actually in Egypt and our spirits rose. By the time the evening
and the mist had rendered the country invisible, we had persuaded
ourselves that Egypt was indeed the lovely land that Moore has so
delightfully imagined in the pages of the "Epicurean."


_III--Cairo and Heliopolis_

Morning found us anchored off Boulak, the port of Cairo. Toward the
river it is faced by factories and storehouses; within, you find
yourself in a labyrinth of brown, narrow streets, that resemble rather
rifts in some mud mountain, than anything with which architecture has
had to do. Yet here and there the blankness of the walls is relieved and
broken by richly worked lattices, and specimens of arabesque masonry.

Gaudy bazaars strike the eye, and the picturesque population that swarms
everywhere keeps the interest awake. On emerging from the lanes of
Boulak, Cairo, Grand Cairo! opens on the view; and never did fancy flash
upon the poet's eye a more superb illusion of power and beauty than the
"city of Victory" presents from a distance. ("El Kahira," the Arabic
epithet of this city, means "the Victorious.") The bold range of the
Mokattam mountains is purpled by the rising sun, its craggy summits are
clearly cut against the glowing sky, it runs like a promontory into a
sea of verdure, here wavy with a breezy plantation of olives, there
darkened with accacia groves.

Just where the mountain sinks upon the plain, the citadel stands upon
its last eminence, and widely spread beneath it lies the city, a forest
of minarets with palm-trees intermingled, and the domes of innumerable
mosques rising, like enormous bubbles, over the sea of houses. Here and
there, richly green gardens are islanded within that sea, and the whole
is girt round with picturesque towers and ramparts, occasionally
revealed through vistas of the wood of sycamores and fig-trees that
surround it. It has been said that "God the first garden made, and the
first city Cain," but here they seem commingled with the happiest
effect.

The objects of interest in the neighbourhood of Cairo are very numerous.
Let us first canter off to Heliopolis, the On of Scripture. It is only
five miles of a pathway, shaded by sycamore and plane-trees, from which
we emerge occasionally into green savannahs or luxuriant cornfields,
over which the beautiful white ibis are hovering in flocks.

In Heliopolis, the Oxford of Old Egypt, stood the great Temple of the
Sun. Here the beautiful and the wise studied love and logic 4,000 years
ago. Here Joseph was married to the fair Asenath. Here Plato and
Herodotus studied and here the darkness which veiled the Great Sacrifice
was observed by a heathen astronomer, Dionysius the Areopagite. We found
nothing, however, on the site of this ancient city, except a small
garden of orange-trees, with a magnificent obelisk in the centre.


_IV.--The Market of Sorrow_

One day while in Cairo I went to visit the slave-markets, one of which
is held without the city, in the courtyard of a deserted mosque. I was
received by a mild-looking Nubian, who led me in silence to inspect his
stock. I found about thirty girls scattered in groups about an inner
court. The gate was open, but there seemed no thought of escape. Where
could they go, poor things? Some were grinding millet between two
stones; some were kneading flour into bread; some were chatting in the
sunshine; some sleeping in the shade.

One or two looked sad and lonely enough, until their gloomy countenances
were lit up with hope--the hope of being bought! Their faces for the
most part were woefully blank, and many wore an awfully animal
expression. Yet there were several figures of exquisite symmetry among
them, which, had they been indeed the bronze statues they resembled,
would have attracted the admiration of thousands, and would have been
valued at twenty times the price that was set on these immortal beings.
Their proprietor showed them off as a horse-dealer does his cattle,
examining their teeth, removing their body-clothes, and exhibiting their
paces.

It is like the change from night to morning, to pass from these dingy
crowds to the white slaves from Georgia and Circassia. The commodities
of this department of the human bazaars are only purchased by wealthy
and powerful Moslems; and, when purchased, are destined to form part of
the female aristocracy of Cairo. These fetch from one, two, three, or
even five hundred pounds, and being so much more valuable than the
Africans, are much more carefully tended. Some were smoking; some
chatting merrily together; some sitting in dreamy languor. All their
attitudes were very graceful.

They were for the most part exquisitely fair; but I was disappointed in
their beauty. The sunny hair and heaven-blue eyes, that in England
produce such an angel-like and intellectual effect, seemed to me here
mere flax and beads; and I left them to the "turbaned Turk" without a
sigh.


_V.--The Harem_

Difficult a study as woman presents in all countries, that difficulty
deepens almost into impossibility in a land where even to look upon her
is a matter of danger or of death. The seclusion of the hareem is
preserved in the very streets by means of an impenetrable veil; the
well-bred Egyptian averts his eyes as she passes by; she is ever to
remain an object of mystery; and the most intimate acquaintance never
inquires after the wife of his friend, or affects to know of her
existence.

An English lady, visiting an Odalisque, inquired what pleasure her
profusion of rich ornaments could afford, as no person except her
husband was ever to behold them. "And for whom do _you_ adorn yourself?
Is it for other men?" replied the fair barbarian.

I have conversed with several European ladies who had visited hareems,
and they have all confessed their inability to convince the Eastern
wives of the unhappiness or hardship of their state. It is true that the
inmate of the hareem knows nothing of the wild liberty (as it seems to
her) that the European woman enjoys. She has never witnessed the
domestic happiness that crowns a fashionable life, or the peace of mind
and purity of heart that reward the labours of a London season. And what
can _she_ know of the disinterested affection and changeless constancy
of ball-room belles, in the land where woman is all free?

Let them laugh on in their happy ignorance of a better lot, while round
them is gathered all that their lord can command of luxury and
pleasantness. His wealth is hoarded for them alone; he permits himself
no ostentation, except the respectable one of arms and horses; and the
time is weary that he passes apart from his home and hareem. The
sternest tyrants are gentle there; Mehemet Ali never refused a woman's
prayer; and even Ali Pasha was partly humanized by his love for Emineh.
In the time of the Mamelukes, criminals were always led to execution
blindfolded, as, if they had met a woman and could touch her garment,
they were saved, whatever was their crime.

Thus idolized, watched, and guarded, the Egyptian woman's life is,
nevertheless, entirely in the power of her lord, and her death is the
inevitable penalty of his dishonour. Poor Fatima! shrined as she was in
the palace of a tyrant, the fame of her beauty stole abroad through
Cairo. She was one among a hundred in the hareem of Abbas Pasha, a man
stained with every foul and loathsome vice; and who can wonder, though
many may condemn, if she listened to a daring young Albanian, who risked
his life to obtain but a sight of her. Whether she _did_ listen or not,
none can ever know, but the eunuchs saw the glitter of the Arnaut's
arms, as he leaped from her terrace into the Nile and vanished into the
darkness.

The following night a merry English party dined together on board Lord
E----'s boat, as it lay moored off the Isle of Rhoda; conversation had
sunk into silence as the calm night came on; a faint breeze floated
perfumes from the gardens over the star-lit Nile; a dreamy languor
seemed to pervade all nature, and even the city lay hushed in deep
repose, when suddenly a boat, crowded with dark figures, among which
arms gleamed, shot out from one of the arches of the palace.

It paused under the opposite bank, where the water rushed deep and
gloomily along, and for a moment a white figure glimmered among that
boat's dark crew; there was a slight movement and a faint splash, and
then the river flowed on as merrily as if poor Fatima still sang her
Georgian song to the murmur of its waters.

I was riding one evening along the water-side. There was no sound except
the ripple of the waves and the heavy flapping of a pelican's wing. As I
paused to contemplate the scene an Egyptian passed me hurriedly, with a
bloody knife in his hand. His dress was mean and ragged, but his
countenance was one that the father of Don Carlos might have worn. He
never raised his eyes as he passed by; and my groom, who just then came
up, told me he had slain his wife, and was going to her father's village
to denounce her.


_VI.--Djouni and Lady Hester Stanhope_

One morning we were already in motion as the sun rose over Lebanon. We
passed for some miles through mulberry gardens, and over a dangerous
rocky pass, where Antiochus the Great defeated the Egyptians, in 218
B.C. This pass would have required the best exertions and courage of a
European horse, yet a file of camels was ascending it with the same
patient look that they wear in their native deserts. Though forced
frequently to traverse mountains in a country whose commerce is
conducted by their means, these animals are only at their ease upon the
sandy plain. The Arabs say, that if you were to ask a camel which he
preferred--travelling up or down hill, his answer would be, "May the
curse of Allah light on both!"

The road was only a steep and rocky path, which, in England, a goat
would be considered active if he could traverse. Our horses,
nevertheless, went along it at a canter, though the precipice sometimes
yawned beneath our outside stirrup, while the inner one knocked fire out
of the rocky cliff. Rocks, tumbled from the mountain, lay strewn about
and nearly choked up the narrow river bed; over these we scrambled,
climbed, and leaped in a manner that only Arab horses would attempt or
could accomplish.

It was late when we came in sight of two conical hills, on one of which
stands the village of Djouni, on the other a circular wall over which
dark trees were waving, and this was the place in which Lady Hester
Stanhope had finished her strange and eventful career. It had been
formerly a convent, but the Pasha of Acre had given it to the "Prophet
Lady," and she had converted its naked walls into palaces, its
wilderness into gardens. The sun was setting as we entered the
enclosure. The buildings that constituted the palace were of a very
scattered and complicated description, covering a wide space, but only
one storey in height; courts and gardens, stables and sleeping-rooms,
halls of audience and ladies' bowers, were strangely intermingled.

Here fountains once played in marble basins, and choice flowers bloomed;
but now it presented a scene of melancholy desolation. Our dinner was
spread on the floor in Lady Hester's favourite apartment; her deathbed
was our sideboard, her furniture our fuel; her name our conversation.
Lady Hester Stanhope was niece to Mr. Pitt, and seems to have possessed
or acquired something of his indomitable energy and proud self-reliance
during the time that she presided over his household. Soon after his
death she left England. For some time she was at Constantinople, where
her magnificence and near alliance to the great minister gained her
considerable influence. Afterwards she passed into Syria.

Many of the people of that country, excited by the achievements of Sir
Sidney Smith, looked on her as a princess who had come to prepare the
way for the expected conquest of their land by the English. Her
influence increased through the prestige created by her wealth and
magnificence, as well as by her imperious character and dauntless
bravery. She believed in magic, astrology, and, incredible as it may
appear, in her own divine mission.

She had two mares which were held sacred by herself and her attendants.
One was singularly marked by a natural saddle. The animal was never
mounted, but reserved for some divinity whom she was to accompany on his
triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The other was retained for her own
"mount" on the same remarkable occasion.

It is said that she was crowned Queen of the East by 50,000 Arabs, at
Palmyra. Lady Hester certainly exercised despotic power in her
neighbourhood on the mountain. Mehemet Ali could make nothing of her.
She annihilated a village for disobedience, and burned a mountain
chalet, with all its inhabitants, on account of the murder of two
Frenchmen who were travelling under the protection of her firman.


_VII.--Mount Hermon_

One morning, before daylight, I set out for the summit of Hermon, called
in Arabic, Djebel Sheikh, the "Chief of the Mountains." This is the
highest point of Syria, the last of the Anti-Lebanon range. We rode
through some rugged valleys and tracts of vineyards, and, leaving our
horses at one of the sheds in the latter, began the steep and laborious
ascent. I have climbed Snowdon, Vesuvius, Epomeo, and many others, but
this was the heaviest work of all. After six hours of toil we stood on
the summit, and perhaps the world does not afford a more magnificent
view than we then beheld.

We looked down from the ancient Hill of Hermon over the land of Israel.
There gleamed the bright blue Sea of Galilee, and nearer was Lake Hooly,
with Banias, the ancient Dan, on its banks. The vast and varied plain,
on which lay mapped a thousand places familiar to the memory, was
bounded on the right by the Mediterranean, whose purple waters whitened
round Sidon, Tyre, and the distant Promontorium Album, over which just
appeared the summit of Mount Carmel. On the left of the plain a range of
hills divided the Hauran from Samaria. Further on, towards the Eastern
horizon, spread the plain of Damascus, and the desert towards Palmyra.

To the north, the wide and fertile valley of Bekaa lay between the two
great chains of the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon; the latter of whose varied
hills and glens, speckled with forests and villages, lay beneath my
feet. Nothing but lakes were wanting to the valleys, nothing but heather
to the mountains. We caught some goats after a hard chase, and, milking
them on the snow, drank eagerly from this novel dairy.

Soon afterwards we discovered a little fountain gushing from a snowy
hill, and only those who have climbed a mountain 9,000 feet high, under
a Syrian sun, can appreciate the luxury of such a draught as that cool,
bubbling rill afforded.


_VIII.--Damascus: The World's Oldest City_

Emerging from the savage gorges of Anti-Lebanon, we entered a wide,
disheartening plain, bounded by an amphitheatre of dreary mountains. Our
horses had had no water for twenty-four hours, and we had had no
refreshment of any kind for twenty. After two hours of more hard riding
I came to another range of mountains, from beyond which opened the view
of Damascus, from which the Prophet abstained as too delicious for a
believer's gaze. It is said that after many days of toilsome travel,
when he beheld this city thus lying at his feet, he exclaimed, "But one
paradise is allowed to man; I will not take mine in this world;" and so
he turned his horse's head from Damascus and pitched his tent in the
desert.

For miles around us lay the dead desert, whose sands seemed to quiver
under the shower of sunbeams; far away to the south and east it spread
like a boundless ocean; but there, beneath our feet, lay such an island
of verdure as nowhere else perhaps exists. Mass upon mass of dark,
delicious foliage rolled like waves among garden tracts of brilliant
emerald green. Here and there the clustering blossoms of the orange or
the nectarine lay like foam upon that verdant sea. Minarets, white as
ivory, shot up their fairy towers among the groves; and purple
mosque-domes, tipped with the golden crescent, gave the only sign that a
city lay bowered beneath those rich plantations.

One hour's gallop brought me to the suburban gates of Mezzé, and
thenceforth I rode on through streets, or rather lanes, of pleasant
shadow. For many an hour we had seen no water; now it gushed and gleamed
and sparkled all around us; from aqueduct above, and rivulet below, and
marble fountain in the walls--everywhere it poured forth its rich
abundance; and my horse and I soon quenched our burning thirst in Abana
and Pharphar.

On we went, among gardens, fountains, odours, and cool shade, absorbed
in sensations of delight. Fruits of every delicate shape and hue bent
the boughs hospitably over our heads; flowers hung in canopy upon the
trees and lay in variegated carpet on the ground; the lanes through
which we went were long arcades of arching boughs; the walls were
composed of large square blocks of dried mud, which, in that bright,
dazzling light somewhat resembled Cyclopean architecture, and gave, I
know not what, of simplicity and primitiveness to the scene.

At length I entered the city, and thenceforth lost the sun while I
remained there. The luxurious people of Damascus exclude all sunshine
from their bazaars by awnings of thick mat, whenever vine-trellises or
vaulted roofs do not render this precaution unnecessary. The effects of
this pleasant gloom, the cool currents of air created by the narrow
streets, the vividness of the bazaars, the variety and beauty of the
Oriental dress, the fragrant smell of the spice-shops, the tinkle of the
brass cups of the sherbet seller--all this affords a pleasant but
bewildering change from the silent desert and the glare of sunshine.

And then the glimpse of places strange to your eye, yet familiar to your
imagination, that you catch as you pass along. Here is the portal of a
large khan, with a fountain and cistern in the midst. Camels and bales
of merchandise and turbaned negroes are scattered over its wide
quadrangle, and an arcade of shops or offices surrounds it, above and
below, like the streets of Chester. Another portal opens into a public
bath, with its fountains, its reservoirs, its gay carpets, and its
luxurious inmates clad in white linen and reclining on cushions as they
smoke their chibouques.

I lodged at the Franciscan Convent, of which the terrace commands the
best view, perhaps, of the city. The young Christian women of Damascus
come hither in numbers to confess, which, if their tongues be as candid
as their eloquent eyes, must be rather a protracted business. They are
passing fair; but the Jewess, with her aristocratic mien, her proud, yet
airy step, and her eagle eye, throws all others into the shade, and
vindicates her lineal descent from Eve, in this, Eve's native land.

I thought Damascus was a great improvement on Cairo in every respect. It
is much more thoroughly Oriental in appearance, in its mysteries, in the
look and character of its inhabitants. The spirit of the Arabian Nights
is quite alive in these, its native streets; and not only do you hear
their fantastic tales repeated to rapt audiences in the coffee-houses,
but you see them hourly exemplified in living scenes. This is probably
the most ancient city in the world. Eleazar, the trusty steward of
Abraham, was a citizen of it nearly 4,000 years ago, and the Arabs
maintain that Adam was created here out of the red clay that is now
fashioned by the potter into other forms.

The Christians for the most part belong to the Latin Church. There are
some Greeks, and a few Armenians. The Christians are as fanatical and
grossly ignorant as the Moslems; at least, those few, even of the
wealthier class, with whom I had the opportunity of conversing.




CHARLES WATERTON

Wanderings in South America


_I.--First Journey_

  Charles Waterton, who was born on June 3, 1782, and who
  died on May 27, 1865, was a native of Yorkshire, England.
  Brought up in a family loving country life and field
  sports, he early learned to cultivate the study of natural
  history. Speaking of himself in after life he said, "I
  cannot boast of any great strength of arm, but my legs,
  probably by much walking, and by frequently ascending
  trees, have acquired vast muscular power; so that, on
  taking a view of me from top to toe, you would say that
  the 'upper part of Tithonus has been placed on the lower
  part of Ajax.'" Educated at Tudhoe Catholic School,
  Waterton became a sound Latin scholar. He proceeded to the
  Jesuit College at Stonyhurst, where his tutors as far as
  possible encouraged his love for natural history, at the
  same time stimulating his taste for literature.
  Fox-hunting was his delight and he became a famous rider.
  His parents wished him to see the world, and his travels
  began with a tour in Spain, visiting London on the way
  back to Yorkshire and there making the acquaintance of Sir
  Joseph Banks, President of the Royal Society and
  scientific Mæcenas of his age. In 1804 he sailed for
  Demerara, there to administer the estates of his paternal
  uncle, and, liking the country, managed that business till
  1812, coming home at intervals. Subsequently, Waterton
  undertook arduous and adventurous journeys in Guiana,
  simply as a naturalist. His accounts of his experiences
  made him famous. He also travelled in the United States
  and the Antilles, then in Holland, Belgium, Switzerland,
  Italy, and Sicily. Besides his "Wanderings in South
  America" he wrote an attractive volume entitled "Natural
  History: Essays."

In the month of April, 1812, I left the town of Stabroek, to travel
through the wilds of Demerara and Essequibo, a part of _ci-devant_ Dutch
Guiana, in South America. The chief objects in view were to collect a
quantity of the strongest Wourali poison, and to reach the inland
frontier fort of Portuguese Guiana.

It would be a tedious journey for him who wishes to proceed through
those wilds, to set out from Stabroek on foot. The sun would exhaust him
in his attempts to wade through the swamps, and the mosquitoes at night
would deprive him of every hour of sleep. The road for horses runs
parallel to the river, but it extends a very little way, and even ends
before the cultivation of the plantation ceases.

The only mode then that remains is to travel by water; and when you come
to the high lands, you make your way through the forest on foot, or
continue your route on the river. After passing the third island in the
river Demerara, there are few plantations to be seen, and those are not
joining on to one another, but separated by large tracts of wood. The
first rocks of any considerable size are at a place called Saba, from
the Indian word which means a stone. Near the top of Saba stands the
house of the postholder, appointed by government to report to the
protector of the Indians, of what is going on among them; and to prevent
suspicious people from passing up the river.

When the Indians assemble here, the stranger may have an opportunity of
seeing the aborigines, dancing to the sound of their country music, and
painted in their native style. They will shoot their arrows for him with
unerring aim and send the poisoned dart, from the blowpipe, true to its
destination.

This is the native country of the sloth. His looks, his gestures, his
cries, all conspire to entreat you to take pity on him. These are the
only weapons of defence nature has given him. It is said his piteous
moans make the tiger cat relent and turn out of his way. Do not then
level your gun at him, or pierce him with a poisoned arrow;--he has
never hurt one living creature. A few leaves, and those of the commonest
and coarsest kind, are all he asks for his support.

Demerara yields to no country in the world in her wonderful and
beautiful productions of the feathered race. The scarlet curlew breeds
in innumerable quantities in the muddy islands on the coasts of
Pomauron; the egrets in the same place. They resort to the mudflats in
ebbing water, while thousands of sandpipers and plovers, with here and
there a spoonbill and flamingo, are seen among them. The pelicans go
farther out to sea, but return at sundown to the courada-trees.

You never fail to see the common vulture where there is carrion. At the
close of day the vampires leave the hollow trees, whither they had fled
at morning's dawn, and scour along the river's banks in quest of prey.
On waking from sleep, the astonished traveller finds his hammock all
stained with blood. It is the vampire that has sucked him.

What an immense range of forest is there from the rock Saba to the great
fall, and what an uninterrupted extent from it to the banks of the
Essequibo! It will be two days and a half from the time of entering the
path on the western bank of the Demerara till all be ready, and the
canoe fairly afloat on the Essequibo. The new rigging in it, and putting
everything to rights and in its proper place, cannot well be done in
less than a day.

After being night and day in the forest impervious to the sun and moon's
rays, the sudden transition to light has a fine heart-cheering effect.
In coming out of the woods you see the western bank of the Essequibo
before you, low and flat. Proceeding onwards past many islands which
enliven the scene, you get to the falls and rapids. When the river is
swollen, as it was in May, 1812, it is a dangerous task to pass them.

A little before you pass the last of the rapids two immense rocks
appear, which look like two ancient stately towers of some Gothic
potentate, rearing their heads above the surrounding trees. From their
situation and their shape, they strike the beholder with an idea of
antiquated grandeur, which he will never forget. He may travel far and
wide and see nothing like them. The Indians have it that they are the
abode of an evil genius, and they pass in the river below, with a
reverential awe.

In about seven hours, from these stupendous sons of the hill you leave
the Essequibo and enter the river Apoura-poura, which falls into it from
the south. Two days afterwards you are within the borders of Macoushia,
inhabited by the Macoushi Indians, who are uncommonly dexterous in the
use of the blowpipe and famous for their skill in preparing the deadly
vegetable poison called Wourali, to which I alluded at the outset of
this narration.

From this country are procured those beautiful paroquets named
Kessikessi. Here too is found the india-rubber tree. The elegant crested
bird called Cock of the Rock is a native of the wooded mountains of
Macoushia. The Indians in this district seem to depend more on the
Wourali poison for killing their game than on anything else. They had
only one gun, and it appeared rusty and neglected; but their poisoned
weapons were in fine order. Their blowpipes hung from the roof of the
hut, carefully suspended by a silk grass cord. The quivers were close by
them, with the jawbone of the fish Pirai tied by a string to their brim,
and a small wicker-basket of wild cotton, which hung down the centre;
they were nearly full of poisoned arrows.

On the fifth day our canoe reached the fort on the Portuguese inland
frontier. I had by this time contracted a feverish attack. The
Portuguese commandant, who came to greet us, discovered that I was sick.
"I am sorry, sir," said he, "to see that the fever has taken such hold
of you. You shall go with me to the fort; and though we have no doctor
there, I trust we shall soon bring you about again. The orders I have
received, forbidding the admission of strangers, were never intended to
be put in force against a sick English gentleman."

Good nourishment and rest, and the unwearied attention and kindness of
the Portuguese commander, stopped the progress of the fever, and
enabled me to walk about in six days. Having reached this frontier, and
collected a sufficient quantity of the Wourali poison, nothing remains
but to give a brief account of its composition, its effects, its uses,
and its supposed antidotes.

Much has been said concerning this fatal and extraordinary poison.
Wishful to obtain the best information, I determined to penetrate into
the country where the poisonous ingredients grow. Success attended the
adventure, and this made amends for the 120 days passed in the solitudes
of Guiana. It is certain that if a sufficient quantity of the poison
enters the blood, death is the result; but there is no alteration in the
colour of the blood, and both the blood and the flesh may be eaten with
safety.

This poison destroys life so gently that the victim seems to be in no
pain whatever. The Indian finds in the wilds a vine called Wourali,
which furnishes the chief ingredient. He also adds the juices of a
bitter root and of two bulbous plants. Next he hunts till he finds two
species of ants, one very large, black, and venomous; the other small
and red, which stings like a nettle. He adds the pounded fangs of the
Labarri and the Counacouchi snakes; and the last ingredient is red
pepper.

The mixture is boiled and looks like coffee. It is poured into a
calabash. Let us now note how it is used. When the Indian goes in quest
of game, he seldom carries his bow and arrows. It is the blowpipe he
then uses. This is a most extraordinary instrument of death. The reed
must grow to an amazing length, as the part used is ten feet long. This
is placed inside a larger tube. The arrow is from nine to ten inches
long. It is made out of leaf of a species of palm-tree, and about an
inch of the pointed end is poisoned. The other end is fixed into a lump
of wild cotton made skilfully to fit the tube.

Chiefly birds are shot with this weapon. The flesh of the game is not
in the least injured by the poison. For larger game bows are used with
poisoned arrows.

An Arowack Indian said it was but four years ago that he and his
companions were ranging in the forest for game. His companion took a
poisoned arrow and sent it at a red monkey in a tree above him. It was
nearly a perpendicular shot. The arrow missed the monkey, and, in the
descent, struck him in the arm. He was convinced it was all over with
him. "I shall never bend this bow again," said he. And having said that,
he took off his little bamboo poison box, which hung across his
shoulder, and putting it with his bow and arrow on the ground, he laid
himself close by them, bid his companion farewell, and never spoke more.

Sugar-cane and salt are supposed to be antidotes, but in reality they
are of no avail. He who is unfortunate enough to be wounded by a
poisoned arrow from Macoushia will find them of no avail. He has got a
deadly foe within him which will allow him but very little time. In a
few moments he will be numbered with the dead.


_II.--Second Journey_

In the year 1816, two days before the vernal equinox, I sailed from
Liverpool for Pernambuco, in the southern hemisphere, on the coast of
Brazil. Arrived there, I embarked on board of a Portuguese brig for
Cayenne in Guiana. On the 14th day after leaving Pernambuco, the brig
cast anchor off the island of Cayenne. The entrance is beautiful. To
windward, not far off, are two bold wooded islands, called Father and
Mother; and near them are others, their children, smaller, though
beautiful as their parents.

All along the coast are seen innumerable quantities of snow-white
egrets, scarlet curlews, spoonbills, and flamingoes. About a day's
journey in the interior is the celebrated national plantation called La
Gabrielle, with which no other plantation in the western world can vie.
In it are 22,000 clove-trees in full bearing. The black pepper, the
cinnamon, and the nutmeg are also in great abundance here.

Not far from the banks of the river Oyapoc, to windward of Cayenne, is a
mountain which contains an immense cavern. Here the Cock of the Rock is
plentiful. He is about the size of a fantail pigeon, his colour a bright
orange and his wings and tail appear as though fringed; his head is
adorned with a superb double-feathery crest, edged with purple.

Finding that a beat to the Amazons would be long and tedious, and aware
that the season for procuring birds in fine plumage had already set in,
I left Cayenne for Paramaribo, went through the interior to Coryntin,
stopped a few days in New Amsterdam, and proceeded to Demerara.

Though least in size, the glittering mantle of the humming-bird entitles
it to the first place in the list of the birds of the New World. See it
darting through the air almost as quick as thought. Now it is within a
yard of your face, and then is in an instant gone. Now it flutters from
flower to flower. Now it is a ruby, now a topaz, now an emerald, now all
burnished gold.

Cayenne and Demerara produce the same humming-birds. On entering the
forests the blue and green, the smallest brown, no bigger than the
humble bee, with two long feathers in the tail, and the little
forked-tail purple-throated humming-birds glitter before you in
ever-changing attitudes.

There are three species of toucans in Dememara, and three diminutives,
which may be called toucanets. The singular form of these birds makes a
lasting impression on the memory. Every species of this family of
enormous bill lays its eggs in the hollow trees. You will be at a loss
to know for what ends nature has overloaded the head of this bird with
such an enormous bill. It is impossible to conjecture.

You would not be long in the forests of Demerara without noticing the
woodpeckers. The sound which the largest kind makes in hammering against
the bark of the tree is so loud that you would never suppose it to
proceed from the efforts of a bird. You would take it to be the woodman,
with his axe, striking a sturdy blow, oft repeated. There are fourteen
species here, all beautiful, and the greater part of them have their
heads ornamented with a fine crest, movable at pleasure.

In the rivers, and different creeks, you number six species of the
kingfisher. They make their nest in a hole in the sand on the side of
the bank. Wherever there is a wild fig-tree ripe, a numerous species of
birds, called Tangara, is sure to be on it. There are 18 beautiful
species here. Their plumage is very rich and diversified; some of them
boast six different colours.

Parrots and paroquets are very numerous here, and of many different
kinds. The hia-hia parrot, called in England the parrot of the sun, is
very remarkable. He can erect at pleasure a fine radiated circle of
tartan feathers quite around the back of his head from jaw to jaw.
Superior in size and beauty to every parrot of South America, the ara
will force you to take your eyes from the rest of animated nature and
gaze at him. His commanding strength, the flaming scarlet of his body,
the lovely variety of red, yellow, blue, and green in his wings, the
extraordinary length of his blue and scarlet tail, seem all to join and
demand for him the title of emperor of all the parrots.

There are nine species of the goatsucker in Demerara, a bird with
prettily mottled plumage like that of the owl. Its cry is so remarkable
that, once heard it can never be forgotten. When night reigns over these
wilds you will hear this goatsucker lamenting like one in deep distress.
A stranger would never conceive the cry to be that of a bird. He would
say it was the departing voice of a midnight murdered victim, or the
last wailing of Niobe for her poor children, before she was turned into
stone.

Suppose yourself in hopeless sorrow, begin with a high loud note, and
pronounce "ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha," each note lower and lower, till
the last is scarcely heard, pausing a moment or two betwixt every note,
and you will have some idea of the moaning of the goatsucker of
Demerara. You will never persuade the native to let fly his arrow at
these birds. They are creatures of omen and of reverential dread. They
are the receptacles of departed souls come back to earth, unable to rest
for crimes done in their days of nature.


_III.--Third Journey_

Gentle reader, after staying a few months in England, I strayed across
the Alps and the Apennines, and returned home, but could not tarry.
Guiana still whispered in my ear, and seemed to invite me once more to
wander through her distant forests. In February, 1820, I sailed from the
Clyde, on board the Glenbervie, a fine West Indiaman.

Sad and mournful was the story we heard on entering the river Demerara.
The yellow fever had swept off numbers of the old inhabitants, and the
mortal remains of many a new comer were daily passing down the streets,
in slow and mute procession.

I myself was soon attacked severely by the fever, but was fortunate
enough to recover after much suffering. Next I was wounded painfully in
the foot by treading on a hard stump, while pursuing a red woodpecker in
the depths of the forest. The wound healed in about three weeks, and I
again joyfully sallied forth.

Let us now turn attention to the sloth, whose haunts have hitherto been
so little known. He is a scarce and solitary animal, living in trees,
and being good food, is never allowed to escape. He inhabits remote and
gloomy forests, where snakes take up their abode, and where cruelly
stinging ants and scorpions, and swamps, and innumerable thorny shrubs
and bushes obstruct the steps of civilized man. We are now in the
sloth's own domain.

Some years ago I kept a sloth in my room for several months. I often
took him out of the house and placed him on the ground. If the ground
were rough, he would pull himself forward, by means of his forelegs, at
a pretty good pace. He invariably shaped his course at once towards the
nearest tree. But if I put him on a smooth and well-trodden part of the
road, he appeared to be in trouble and distress. His favourite abode was
the back of a chair, and after getting all his legs in a line on the
topmost part of it, he would hang there for hours together, and often
with a low and inward cry, would seem to invite me to take notice of
him.

We will now take a view of the vampire. As there was a free entrance and
exit to the vampire, in the loft where I slept, I had many fine
opportunities of paying attention to this nocturnal surgeon. He does not
always live on blood. When the moon shone brightly, and the bananas were
ripe, I could see him approach and eat them. The vampire measures about
26 inches from wing to wing extended. He frequents old abandoned houses
and hollow trees, and sometimes a cluster of them may be seen in the
forest hanging head downward from the branch of a tree.

Some years ago I went to the river Paumaron with a Scotch gentleman, by
name Tarbet. Next morning I heard him muttering in his hammock, and now
and then letting fall an imprecation or two, just about the time he
ought to have been saying his morning prayers. "What is the matter,
sir," I said, softly; "is anything amiss?" "What's the matter?" answered
he surlily; "why, the vampires have been sucking me to death."

As soon as there was light enough. I went to his hammock, and saw it
much stained with blood. "There, see how these infernal imps have been
drawing my life's blood," said he, thrusting a foot out of the hammock.
The vampire had tapped his great toe; there was a wound somewhat less
than that made by a leech; the blood was still oozing from it. I
conjectured he might have lost from ten to twelve ounces of blood.

I had often wished to have been once sucked by the vampire, in order
that I might have it in my power to say it had really happened to me.
There can be no pain in the operation, for the patient is always asleep
when the vampire is sucking him; and as for the loss of a few ounces of
blood, that would be a trifle in the long run. Many a night have I slept
with my foot out of the hammock to tempt this winged surgeon, expecting
that he would be there; but it was all in vain; the vampire never sucked
me, and I could never account for his not doing so, for we were
inhabitants of the same loft for months together.

Let us now forget for awhile the quadrupeds and other animals, and take
a glance at the native Indians of these forests. There are five
principal tribes in Demerara, commonly known by the name of Warow,
Arowack, Acoway, Carib, and Macoushi. They live in small hamlets
consisting never of more than twelve huts. These huts are always in the
forest near a river. They are open on all sides (except those of the
Macoushi) and covered with a species of palm-leaf.

Both men and women are unclothed. They are a very clean people, and wash
in the river at least twice a day. They have very few diseases. I never
saw an idiot among their number. Their women never perish at childbirth,
owing no doubt to their never wearing stays. They are very jealous of
their liberty, and much attached to their own mode of living. Some
Indians who have accompanied white men to Europe, on returning to their
own land, have thrown off their clothes, and gone back into the forests.

Let us now return to natural history. One morning I killed a
Coulacanara, a snake 14 feet long, large enough to have crushed any one
of us to death. After skinning it I could easily get my head into his
mouth, as its jaws admit of wonderful extension. A Dutch friend of mine
killed a boa 22 feet long, with a pair of stag's horns in his mouth. He
had swallowed the stag but could not get the horns down. In this plight
the Dutchman found him as he was going in his canoe up the river, and
sent a ball through his head.

One Sunday morning a negro informed me that he had discovered a great
snake in a large tree which had been upset by a whirlwind and was lying
decaying on the ground. I had been in search of a large serpent for a
long time. I told two negroes to follow me while I led the way with a
cutlass in my hand. Taking as an additional weapon a long lance, I
carried this perpendicularly before me, with the point about a foot from
the ground. The snake had not moved, and on getting up to him, I struck
him with the lance just behind the neck, and pinned him to the ground.
That moment the negro next to me seized the lance and held it fast in
its place, while I dashed up to grapple with the serpent, and to get
hold of his tail before he could do any mischief.

The snake on being pinned gave a tremendous hiss. We had a sharp fray,
rotten sticks flying on all sides, and each party struggling for
superiority. I called to the second negro to throw himself on me, as I
found I was not heavy enough. He did so and the additional weight was of
great service. I had now got firm hold of his tail, and after a violent
struggle or two, he gave in. So I contrived to unloose my braces and
with them tied up the snake's mouth.

The serpent now tried to better himself and set resolutely to work, but
we overpowered him. We contrived to make him twist himself round the
shaft of the lance, and then prepared to convey him out of the forest. I
stood at his head and held it firm under my arm, one negro supported the
belly, and the other the tail. In this order we slowly moved towards
home, resting ten times. The snake vainly fought hard for freedom. At my
abode I cut his throat. He bled like an ox. By next evening he was
completely dissected.

When I had done with the carcase of the great snake it was conveyed into
the forest, as I expected it would attract the king of the vultures, as
soon as time should have rendered it sufficiently savoury. In a few days
it sent forth that odour which a carcase should, and about twenty of the
common vultures came and perched on the neighbouring trees. The king of
the vultures came too; and I observed that none of the common ones
inclined to begin breakfast till his majesty had finished. When he had
consumed as much snake as nature informed him would do him good, he
retired to the top of a high mora-tree, and then all the common vultures
fell to and made a hearty meal.

When canoeing down the noble river Essequibo I had an adventure with a
cayman, which we caught with a shark hook baited with the flesh of the
acouri. The cayman was ten and a half feet long. He had swallowed the
bait in the night and was thus fast to the end of a rope. My people
pulled him up from the depths and out he came--"_monstrum horrendum,
informe_." I saw that he was in a state of fear and perturbation. I
jumped on his back, immediately seized his forelegs, and by main force
twisted them on his back; thus they served for a bridle.

The cayman now seemed to have recovered from his surprise and plunged
furiously, and lashed the sand with his long tail. I was out of reach of
the strokes of it, by being near his head. He continued to plunge and
strike, and made my seat very uncomfortable. It must have been a fine
sight for an unoccupied spectator. The people roared in triumph and
pulled us above forty yards on the sand. It was the first time I was
ever on a cayman's back. Should it be asked how I managed to keep my
seat, I would answer that I hunted for some years with Lord Darlington's
foxhounds.

After some further struggling the cayman gave in. I now managed to tie
up his jaws. He was finally conveyed to the canoe and then to the place
where we had suspended our hammocks. There I cut his throat and after
breakfast commenced the dissection.




ARTHUR YOUNG

Travels in France


_I.--The First Journey, 1787_

  Arthur Young was born September 11, 1741, at Whitehall;
  died April 20, 1820. Most of his life was spent on his
  patrimonial estate at Bradfield Hall, near Bury St.
  Edmunds, England. He was the son of the Rev. Dr. Arthur
  Young, rector of Bradfield, Prebendary of Canterbury
  Cathedral, and Chaplain to Arthur Onslow, Speaker of the
  House of Commons. On his father's death he took to
  farming, but at the same time addicted himself to
  literature, becoming a parliamentary reporter. Arthur
  Young was indeed much more successful in literary pursuits
  than in the practice of husbandry. His book entitled "A
  Tour Through the Southern Counties of England" achieved
  great popularity. This he actively followed by writing
  other works describing agricultural conditions in various
  parts of England, and in Ireland. His vivid and
  interesting style secured for his treatises a very wide
  circulation. In 1784 he commenced the issue of an annual
  register entitled "The Annals of Agriculture" of which 45
  volumes were published. Three years later an invitation
  from the Comte de la Rochefoucauld induced Young to visit
  France. He went a second and a third time, and created a
  sensation by the publication of an account of his
  experiences during the three consecutive years that
  immediately preceded the Revolution. Arthur Young
  travelled on horseback through many districts of France in
  the midst of the disturbances. So realistic is his account
  that it is regarded as the most reliable record ever
  written of the French rural conditions of that period. The
  French Directory ordered all Young's works to be
  translated into French, and they are as popular as ever
  to-day across the Channel.

There are two methods of writing travels; to register the journey
itself, or the result of it. In the former case it is a diary; the
latter usually falls into the shape of essays on distinct subjects. A
journal form has the advantage of carrying with a greater degree of
credibility; and, of course, more weight. A traveller who thus registers
his observations is detected the moment he writes of things he has not
seen. If he sees little, he must register little. The reader is saved
from imposition. On the other hand a diary necessarily leads to
repetitions on the same subjects and the same ideas.

In favour of composing essays there is the counterbalancing advantage
that the matter comes with the full effect of force and completeness
from the author. Another admirable circumstance is brevity, by the
rejection of all useless details. After weighing the _pour_ and the
_contre_, I think it not impracticable to retain in my case the benefit
of both plans.

JOURNAL. May 15. The strait that separates England, fortunately for her,
from the rest of the world, must be crossed many times before the
traveller ceases to be surprised at the sudden and universal change that
surrounds him on landing at Calais. The scene, the people, the language,
every object is new. The noble improvement of a salt marsh by Mons.
Mourons of this town, occasioned my acquaintance some time ago with that
gentleman. I spent an agreeable and instructive evening at his house.

May 17. Nine hours rolling at anchor had so fatigued my mare, that I
thought it necessary to rest her one day; but this morning I left
Calais. For a few miles the country resembles parts of Norfolk and
Suffolk. The aspect is the same on to Boulogne. Towards that town I was
pleased to find many seats belonging to people who reside there. How
often are false ideas conceived from reading and report. I imagined that
nobody but farmers and labourers in France lived in the country; and the
first ride I take in that kingdom shows me a score of country seats. The
road is excellent.

May 18. Boulogne is not an ugly town, and from the ramparts of the upper
part the view is beautiful. Many persons from England reside here, their
misfortunes in trade or extravagance in living making their sojourn
abroad more agreeable than at home.

The country around improves. It is more inclosed. There are some fine
meadows about Bonbrie, and several chateaux. I am not professedly on
husbandry in this diary, but must just observe, that it is to the full
as bad as the country is good; corn miserable and yellow with weeds, yet
all summer fallowed with lost attention.

May 22. Poverty and poor crops at Amiens. Women are now ploughing with a
pair of horses to sow barley. The difference of the customs of the two
nations is in nothing more striking than in the labours of the sex; in
England it is very little they will do in the fields except to glean and
make hay; the first is a party of pilfering, and the second of pleasure;
in France they plough and fill the dung-cart.

May 25. The environs of Clermont are picturesque. The hills about
Liancourt are pretty and spread with a kind of cultivation I have never
seen before, a mixture of vineyards (for here the vines first appear),
gardens and corn. A piece of wheat, a scrap of lucorne, a patch of
clover or vetches, a bit of vine with cherry and other fruit trees
scattered among all, and the whole cultivated with the spade; it makes a
pretty appearance, but must form a poor system of trifling.

The forest around Chantilly, belonging to the Prince of Condé, is
immense, spreading far and wide. They say the capitainerie, or
paramountship, is above 100 miles in circumference. That is to say, all
the inhabitants for that extent are pestered with game, without
permission to destroy it, for one man's diversion. Ought not these
capitaineries to be extirpated?

May 27. At Versailles. After breakfasting with Count de la Rochefoucauld
at his apartments in the palace, where he is grand master of the
wardrobe, was introduced by him to the Duke de la Rochefoucauld. As the
duke is going to Luchon in the Pyrenees, I am to have the honour of
being one of the party. The ceremony of the day was the king's investing
the Duke of Berri with the _cordon bleu_. The queen's band was in the
chapel during the function, but the musical effect was thin and weak.
During the service the king was seated between his two brothers, and
seemed by his carriage and inattention to wish himself a hunting. The
queen is the most beautiful woman I saw to-day.

May 30. At Orleans. The country around is one universal flat,
unenclosed, uninteresting, and even tedious, but the prospect from the
steeple of the fine cathedral is commanding, extending over an unbounded
plain, through which the magnificent Loire bends his stately way, in
sight for 14 leagues.

May 31. On leaving Orleans, enter the miserable province of Sologne. The
poor people who cultivate the soil here are métayers, that is, men who
hire the land without ability to stock it; the proprietor is forced to
provide seed and cattle, and he and his tenant divide the produce; a
miserable system that perpetuates poverty and prevents instruction. The
same wretched country continues to La Loge; the fields are scenes of
pitiable management, as the houses are full of misery. Heaven grant me
patience while I see a country thus neglected, and forgive me the oaths
I swear at the absence and ignorance of the possessors.

June 11. See for the first time the Pyrenees, at the distance of 150
miles. Towards Cahors the country changes and has something of a savage
aspect, yet houses are seen everywhere, and one-third of it under vines.
The town is bad; its chief trade and resource are wines and brandies.

June 14. Reach Toulouse, which is a very large and very ancient city,
but not peopled in proportion to its size. It has had a university since
1215 and has always prided itself on its taste for literature and art.
The noble quay is of great length.

June 16. A ridge of hills on the other side of the Garonne, which began
at Toulouse, became more and more regular yesterday; and is undoubtedly
the most distant ramification of the Pyrenees, reaching into this vast
vale quite to Toulouse, but no farther. Approach the mountains; the
lower ones are all cultivated, but the higher ones seem covered with
wood. Meet many wagons, each loaded with two casks of wine, quite
backward in the carriage, and as the hind wheels are much higher than
the lower ones, it shows that these mountaineers have more sense than
John Bull.

The wheels of these wagons are all shod with wood instead of iron. Here
for the first time, see rows of maples, with vines trained in festoons
from tree to tree; they are conducted by a rope of bramble, vine
cutting, or willow. They give many grapes, but bad wine. Pass St.
Martino, and then a large village of well built houses, without a single
glass window.

June 17. St. Gaudens is an improving town, with many new houses,
something more than comfortable. An uncommon view of St. Bertrand. You
break at once upon a vale sunk deep enough beneath the point of view to
command every hedge and tree, with that town clustered round its large
cathedral, on a rising ground. The mountains rise proudly around, and
give their rough frame to this exquisite little picture. Immense
quantities of poultry in all this country; most of it the people salt
and keep in grease.

Quit the Garonne some leagues before Serpe, where the river Neste falls
into it. The road to Bagnére is along this river, in a narrow valley, at
one end of which is built the town of Luchon, the termination of our
journey; which has to me been one of the most agreeable I ever
undertook. Having now crossed the kingdom, and been in many French inns,
I shall in general observe, that they are on an average better in two
respects, and worse in all the rest, than those in England. We have
lived better in point of eating and drinking beyond a question, than we
should have done in going from London to the Highlands of Scotland, at
double the expense.

The common cookery of the French gives great advantage. It is true they
roast everything to a chip if they are not cautioned, but they give such
a number and variety of dishes, that if you do not like some, there are
others to please your palate. The dessert at a French inn has no rival
at an English one. But you have no parlour to eat in; only a room with
two, three, or four beds. Apartments badly fitted up; the walls
whitewashed; or paper of different sorts in the same room; or tapestry
so old as to be a fit _nidus_ for moths and spiders; and the furniture
such, that an English innkeeper would light his fire with it.

For a table you have everywhere a board laid on cross bars, which are so
conveniently contrived as to leave room for your legs only at the end.
Oak chairs with rush bottoms, and the back universally perpendicular,
defying all idea of rest after fatigue. Doors give music as well as
entrance; the wind whistles through their chinks; and hinges grate
discord. Windows admit rain as well as light; when shut they are not
easy to open; and when open not easy to shut.

Mops, brooms, and scrubbing brushes are not in the catalogue of the
necessaries of a French inn. Bells there are none; the _fille_ must
always be bawled for; and when she appears, is neither neat, well
dressed, nor handsome. The kitchen is black with smoke; the master
commonly the cook, and the less you see of the cooking the more likely
you are to have a stomach to your dinner. The mistress rarely classes
civility or attention to her guests among the requisites of her trade.
We are so unaccustomed in England to live in our bed-chambers that it is
at first awkward in France to find that people live nowhere else. Here I
find that everybody, let his rank be what it may, lives in his
bed-chamber.


_II.--Second Journey, 1788_

August 27. Cherbourg. Not a place for a residence longer than is
necessary. I was here fleeced more infamously than at any other town in
France.

Sept. 5. To Montauban. The poor people seem poor indeed; the children
terribly ragged, if possible worse clad than if with no clothes at all;
as to shoes and stockings, they are luxuries. A beautiful girl of six or
seven playing with a stick, and smiling under such a bundle of rags as
made my heart ache to see her. One-third of this province seems
uncultivated, and nearly all of it in misery. What have kings, and
ministers, and parliaments, and states, to answer for their prejudices,
seeing millions of hands that would be industrious, idle and starving
through the execrable maxims of despotism, or the equally detestable
prejudices of a feudal nobility. Sleep at the "Lion d'Or," at Montauban,
an abominable hole.

The 8th. Enter Bas Bretagne. One recognises at once another people,
meeting numbers who know no French. Enter Guingamp by gateways, towers,
and battlements, apparently the oldest military architecture; every part
denoting antiquity, and in the best preservation. The habitations of the
poor are miserable heaps of dirt; no glass, and scarcely any light; but
they have earth chimneys.

Sept. 21. Came to an improvement in the midst of sombre country. Four
good houses of stone and slate, and a few acres run to wretched grass,
which have been tilled, but all savage, and become almost as rough as
the rest. I was afterwards informed that this improvement, as it is
called, was wrought by Englishmen, at the expense of a gentleman they
ruined as well as themselves. I demanded how it had been done? Pare and
burn, and sow wheat, then rye, and then oats. Thus it is for ever and
ever! The same follies, blundering, and ignorance; and then all the
fools in the country said as they do now, that these wastes are good for
nothing. To my amazement I find that they reach within three miles of
the great commercial city of Nantes.

The 22nd. At Nantes, a town which has that sign of prosperity of new
buildings that never deceives. The quarter of the Comédie is
magnificent, all the streets at right angles and of white stone. Messrs.
Epivent had the goodness to attend me in a water expedition, to view the
establishment of Mr. Wilkinson, for boring cannon, in an island on the
Loire, below Nantes. Until that well-known English manufacturer arrived,
the French knew nothing of the art of casting cannon solid, and then
boring them.

Nantes is as _enflammé_ in the cause of liberty as any town in France
can be. The conversations I have witnessed here prove how great a change
is effected in the mind of the French, nor do I believe it will be
possible for the present government to last half a century longer. The
American revolution has laid the foundation of another in France, if
government does not take care of itself. On the 23rd one of the twelve
prisoners from the Bastille arrived here--he was the most violent of
them all--and his imprisonment has not silenced him.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE.--It wanted no great spirit of prophecy to foretell this
revolution; but later events have shown that I was very wide of the mark
when I talked of fifty years. The twelve gentlemen of Bretagne deputed
to Versailles, mentioned above, were sent with a denunciation of the
ministers for their suspension of provincial parliaments. They were at
once sent to the Bastille. It was this war of the king and the
parliaments that brought about the assembly of the States General, the
step being decided on by the assembly of Grenoble, July 21, 1788.]


_III.--Third Journey, 1789_

June 5. Passage to Calais; 14 hours for reflection in a vehicle that
does not allow one power to reflect.

The 8th. At Paris, which is at present in such a ferment about the
States General, now holding at Versailles, that conversation is
absolutely absorbed by them. The nobility and clergy demand one thing,
the commons another. The king, court, nobility, clergy, army, and
parliament are nearly in the same situation. All these consider, with
equal dread, the ideas of liberty, now afloat; except the king, who, for
reasons obvious to those who know his character, troubles himself
little, even with circumstances that concern his character the most
intimately.

The 9th. The business going forward at present in the pamphlet shops of
Paris is incredible. Every hour produces something new. This spirit of
reading political tracts spreads into the provinces, so that all presses
of France are equally employed. Nineteen-twentieths of these productions
are in favour of liberty, and commonly violent against the clergy and
nobility. Is it not wonderful, that while the press teems with the most
levelling and seditious principles, that if put into execution would
overturn the monarchy, nothing in reply appears, and not the least step
is taken by the court to restrain this extreme licentiousness of
publication? It is easy to conceive the spirit that must thus be raised
among the people.

The 10th. Everything conspires to render the present period in France
critical. The want of bread is terrible, and accounts arrive every
moment from the provinces of riots and disturbances, and calling in the
military, to preserve the peace of the markets. It appears that there
would have been no real scarcity if M. Necker would have let the corn
trade alone.

The 15th. This has been a rich day, and such an one as ten years ago
none could believe would ever arrive in France. Went to the Hall of
States at Versailles, a very important debate being expected on the
condition of the nation. M. l'Abbé Sieyès opened it. He is a violent
republican, absolutely opposed to the present government, which he
thinks too bad to be regulated, and wishes to see overturned. He speaks
ungracefully and uneloquently, but logically.

M. le Comte de Mirabeau replied, speaking without notes for near an hour
in most eloquent style. He opposed with great force the reasoning of the
Abbé, and was loudly applauded.

The 20th. News! News! Everyone stares at what everyone might have
expected. A message from the king to the presidents of the three orders,
that he should meet them on Monday; and, under pretence of preparing the
hall for the occasion, the French guards were placed with bayonets to
prevent any of the deputies entering the room. The circumstances of
doing this ill-judged act of violence have been as ill-advised as the
act itself.

The 24th. The ferment at Paris is beyond conception. All this day 10,000
people have been in the Palais Royal. M. Necker's plans of finance are
severely criticised, even by his friends.

The 26th. Every hour that passes seems to give the people fresh spirit.
The meetings at the palais are more numerous and more violent. Nothing
less than a revolution in the government and a free constitution is
talked of by all ranks of people; but the supine stupidity of the court
is without example. The king's offers of negotiation have been rejected.
He changes his mind from day to day.

The 30th. At Nangis, having come from Paris. Entertained at the château
of the Marquis de Guerchy. The perruquier in the town that dressed me
this morning tells me that everybody is determined to pay no taxes; that
the soldiers will never fire on the people; but if they should, it is
better to be shot, than starved. He gave me a frightful account of the
misery of the people. In the market I saw the wheat sold out under the
regulation of the magistrates, that no person should buy more than two
bushels of wheat at a market, to prevent monopolising. A party of
dragoons had been drawn up before the market-cross to prevent violence.

The 15th. At Nancy. Letters from Paris announce that all is confusion.
The ministry has been removed and M. Necker ordered to quit France
quietly. All to whom I spoke agreed that it was fatal news and that it
would occasion great commotion. I am told on every hand that everything
is to be feared from the people, because bread is so dear, they are half
starved, and consequently ready for commotion. But they are waiting on
Paris, which shows the importance of great cities in the life of a
nation. Without Paris, I question whether the present revolution, which
is fast working in France, could have had an origin.

The 20th. To Strasburg, through one of the richest scenes of cultivation
in France, though Flanders exceeds it. I arrived there at a critical
moment, for a detachment of troops had brought interesting news of the
revolt in Paris--the Gardes Françoises joining the people; the little
dependence on the rest of the troops; the storming of the Bastille; in a
word, of the absolute overthrow of the old government.

The 21st. I have been witness to scenes curious to a foreigner, but
dreadful to Frenchmen who are considerate. Passing through the square of
the Hotel de Ville, the mob was breaking the windows with stones,
notwithstanding an officer and detachment of horse were there.
Perceiving that the troops would not attack them, except in words and
menaces, the rioters grew more violent, broke the windows of the Hotel
de Ville with stones, attempted to beat in the door with iron bars, and
placed ladders to the windows.

In about a quarter of an hour, which gave time for the assembled
magistrates to escape by a back door, they burst all open, and entered
like a torrent with a universal shout of spectators. From that minute a
shower of casements, sashes, shutters, chairs, tables, sofas, books,
papers, pictures, etc., rained incessantly from all the windows of the
house, which is eighty feet long, and next followed tiles, skirting
boards, banisters, frame-work, and everything that could be detached
from the building. The troops, both horse and foot, were quiet
spectators.

The 30th. At Dijon. At the inn here is a gentleman, unfortunately a
seigneur, with wife, three servants, and infant, who escaped from their
flaming château half naked in the night; all their property lost except
the land itself--and this family, valued and esteemed by the neighbours,
with many virtues to command the love of the poor, and no oppressions to
provoke their enmity. Such abominable actions must bring the more
detestation to the cause from being unnecessary; the kingdom might have
been settled in a real system of liberty, without the _regeneration_ of
fire and sword, plunder, and bloodshed.

August 19. At Thuytz. At eleven at night, a full hour after I had been
asleep, the commander of a file of citizen militia, with their muskets,
swords, sabres, and pikes entered my chamber, surrounded my bed, and
demanded my passport; I was forced to give it, and also my papers. They
told me I was undoubtedly a conspirator with the queen, the Comte
d'Artois, and the Comte d'Entragues (who has property here), who had
employed me as a surveyor to measure their fields, in order to double
their taxes. My papers being in English saved me. But I had a narrow
escape. It would have been a delicate situation to have been kept a
prisoner probably in some common gaol, while they sent a courier to
Paris at my expense.