Prompted by a boundless thirst for knowledge and an insatiable desire to
see new places and new things, Madame Pfeiffer left Vienna on the 1st of
May 1846, and proceeded to Hamburg, where she embarked on board a Danish
brig, the _Caroline_, for Rio Janeiro. As the voyage was divested of
romantic incidents, we shall land the reader without delay at the great
sea-port of the Brazilian empire.
The traveller's description of it is not very favourably coloured. The
streets are dirty, and the houses, even the public buildings,
insignificant. The Imperial Palace has not the slightest architectural
pretensions. The finest square is the Largo do Roico, but this would not
be admitted into Belgravia. It is impossible to speak in high terms even
of the churches, the interior of which is not less disappointing than
their exterior. And as is the town, so are the inhabitants. Negroes and
mulattoes do not make up attractive pictures. Some of the Brazilian and
Portuguese women, however, have handsome and expressive countenances.
Most writers indulge in glowing descriptions of the scenery and climate
of the Brazils; of the cloudless, radiant sky, and the magic of the never-
ending spring. Madame Ida Pfeiffer admits that the vegetation is richer,
and the soil more fruitful, and nature more exuberantly active than in
any other part of the world; but still, she says, it must not be thought
that all is good and beautiful, and that there is nothing to weaken the
powerful effect of the first impression. The constant blaze of colour
after a while begins to weary; the eye wants rest; the monotony of the
verdure oppresses; and we begin to understand that the true loveliness of
spring is only rightly appreciated when it succeeds the harsher aspects
of winter.
[Invasion of Ants: page33.jpg]
Europeans suffer much from the climate. The moisture is very
considerable, and renders the heat, which in the hot months rises to 99
degrees in the shade, and 122 degrees in the sun, more difficult to bear.
Fogs and mists are disagreeably common; and whole tracts of country are
often veiled by an impenetrable mist.
The Brazils suffer, too, from a plague of insects,--from mosquitoes,
ants, baraten, and sand-fleas; against the attacks of which the traveller
finds it difficult to defend himself. The ants often appear in trains of
immeasurable length, and pursue their march over every obstacle that
stands in the way. Madame Pfeiffer, during her residence at a friend's
house, beheld the advance of a swarm of this description. It was really
interesting to see what a regular line they formed; nothing could make
them deviate from the direction on which they had first determined.
Madame Geiger, her friend, told her she was awakened one night by a
terrible itching: she sprang out of bed immediately, and lo, a swarm of
ants were passing over it! There is no remedy for the infliction, except
to wait, with as much patience as one can muster, for the end of the
procession, which frequently lasts four to six hours. It is possible, to
some extent, to protect provisions against their attacks, by placing the
legs of the tables in basins filled with water. Clothes and linen are
enclosed in tightly-fitting tin canisters.
The worst plague of all, however, are the sand-fleas, which attach
themselves to one's toes, underneath the nail, or sometimes to the soles
of the feet. When a person feels an irritation in these parts, he must
immediately look at the place; and if he discern a tiny black point,
surrounded by a small white ring, the former is the _chigoe_, or sand-
flea, and the latter the eggs which it has deposited in the flesh. The
first thing to be done is to loosen the skin all round as far as the
white skin is visible; the whole deposit is then extracted, and a little
snuff strewn in the empty space. The blacks perform this operation with
considerable skill.
Rich as the Brazils are in natural productions, they are wanting in many
articles which Europeans regard as of the first importance. There are
sugar and coffee, it is true; but no corn, no potatoes, and none of our
delightful varieties of fruit. The flour of manioc, obtained from the
cassava plant, which forms a staple portion of almost every dish,
supplies the place of bread, but is far from being so nutritious and
strengthening; while the different kinds of sweet-tasting roots are far
inferior in value to our potato. The only fruit which Madame Pfeiffer
thought really excellent, were the oranges, bananas, and mangoes. The
pine-apples are neither very sweet nor very fragrant. And with regard to
two most important articles of consumption, the milk is very watery, and
the meat very dry.
* * * * *
Our traveller, during her sojourn at Rio Janeiro, made many interesting
excursions in the neighbourhood. One was directed to Petropolis, a
colony founded by Germans in the heart of scenery of the most exquisite
character. Accompanied by Count Berchthold, she sailed for Porto
d'Estrella in one of the regular coasting barks. Their course carried
them across a bay remarkable for its picturesque views. It lies calmly
in the embrace of richly-wooded hills, and is studded with islands, like
a silver shield with emerald bosses. Some of these islands are
completely overgrown with palms, while others are masses of huge rock,
with a carpet of green turf.
Their bark was manned by four negroes and a white skipper. At first they
ran merrily before a favourable wind, but in two hours the crew were
compelled to take to the oars, the method of using which was exceedingly
fatiguing. At each dip of the oar, the rower mounts upon a bench in
front of him, and then, during the stroke, throws himself off again, with
his full force. In two hours more they passed into the river Geromerino,
and made their way through a world of beautiful aquatic plants which
covered the tranquil waters in every direction. The river banks are
flat, and fringed with underwood and young trees; the background is
formed by ranges of low green hills.
At Porto d'Estrella, Madame Pfeiffer and her companion landed, and
proceeded on foot towards Petropolis. The first eight miles lay through
a broad valley, clothed with dense brambles and young trees, and shadowed
by lofty mountains. The wild pine-apples by the roadside were very fair
to see; they were not quite ripe, but tinted of the most delicate red.
Beautiful humming-birds flashed through the air like "winged jewels," and
studded the dense foliage with points of many-coloured light.
After passing through the valley, they reached the Sierra, as the
Brazilians term the practicable mountain-summits. It was three thousand
feet in height, and was ascended by a broad paved road, striking through
the depths of virgin forests.
Madame Pfeiffer had always imagined that the trees in virgin forests had
very thick and lofty trunks; but such was not the case here; probably
because the vegetation was too luxuriant, and the larger trunks have the
life crushed out of them by masses of smaller trees, bushes, creepers,
and parasites.
Frequent truppas, or teams of ten mules driven by a negro, as well as
numerous pedestrians, enlivened the path, and prevented our travellers
from observing that their steps were persistently followed up by a negro.
When, however, they arrived at a somewhat lonely spot, this negro
suddenly sprang forward, holding a lasso in one hand and a long knife in
the other, and with threatening gestures gave them to understand that he
intended to murder them, and then drag their dead bodies into the forest!
The travellers were without arms, having been told the road was perfectly
safe; their only weapons were their umbrellas, with the exception of a
clasp-knife. This the brave woman drew from her pocket and opened, in
the calm resolution to sell her life as dearly as possible. With their
umbrellas they parried their adversary's blows as long as they could; but
he caught hold of Madame Ida's, which snapped off, leaving only a piece
of the handle in her hand. In the struggle, however, he dropped his
knife, which rolled a few steps away from him. Madame Ida immediately
made a dash at it, and thought she had secured it; but, quicker in his
movements than she was, he thrust her away with his hands and feet, and
once more obtained possession of it. Waving it furiously over his head,
he slashed her twice in the upper part of the left arm. All seemed lost;
but in her extreme peril the brave lady bethought her of her own knife,
and struck at her adversary, wounding him in the hand. At the same
moment Count Berchthold sprang forward, and while he seized the villain
with both arms, Madame Ida Pfeiffer recovered her feet. All this took
place in less than a minute. The negro was now roused into a condition
of maniacal fury; he gnashed his teeth like a wild beast, and brandished
his knife, while uttering fearful threats. The issue of the contest
would probably have been disastrous, but for the opportune arrival of
assistance. Hearing the tramp of horses' hoofs upon the road, the negro
desisted from his attack, and sprang into the forest. A couple of
horsemen turning the corner of the road, our travellers hurried to meet
them; and having told their tale, which, indeed, their wounds told
eloquently enough, they leaped from their horses, and entered the wood in
pursuit. A couple of negroes soon afterwards coming up, the villain was
captured, securely pinioned, and, as he would not walk, severely beaten,
until, as most of the blows fell upon his head, Madame Ida Pfeiffer
feared that the wretch's skull would be broken. Nothing, however, would
induce him to walk, and the negroes were compelled to carry him bodily,
to the nearest house.
The colony of Petropolis proved to be situated in the depth of a virgin
forest, at an elevation of 2500 feet above the sea-level. At the time of
Madame Pfeiffer's visit it was about fourteen months old, having been
founded for the special purpose of providing the capital with fruits and
vegetables which, in tropical climates, will thrive only in very elevated
situations. It was, of course, in a very rudimentary condition, the mere
embryo of a town; but the country around it was very picturesque.
* * * * *
Madame Pfeiffer's second excursion was into the interior; and it opened
up to her a variety of interesting scenes,--as, for instance, a manioc-
fazenda, or plantation. The manioc plant, it appears, throws off stalks
from four to six feet in height, with a number of large leaves at their
upper extremities. The valuable portion of the plant is its bulbous
root, which frequently weighs two or three pounds, and supplies the place
of corn throughout the Brazils. It is washed, peeled, and held against
the rough edge of a mill-stone, until it is completely ground into flour.
This flour is collected in a basket, steeped thoroughly in water, and
afterwards pressed quite dry by means of a press. Lastly, it is
scattered upon large iron plates, and slowly dried over a gentle fire. At
this stage it resembles a very coarse kind of flour, and is eaten in two
ways;--either mixed with hot water, until it forms a kind of porridge; or
baked in the form of coarse flour, which is handed round at table in
little baskets.
She also saw a coffee plantation. The coffee-trees stand in rows upon
tolerably steep hillocks. Their height ranges from six feet to twelve;
and they begin to bear sometimes as early as the second, but in no case
later than the third year. They are productive for at least ten years.
The leaf is long and slightly serrated, and the flower white; while the
fruit hangs down like a cluster of grapes, and resembles a large cherry,
which varies from green to red, then to brown, and almost black. While
red, the outer shell is soft; but eventually it becomes perfectly hard,
until it may be compared to a wooden capsule. Blossoms and ripe fruit
are found on the same tree at the same time; so that a crop may be
gathered at almost any season of the year. After the berries are
plucked, they are spread out in spacious areas enclosed by a wall about
twelve feet high, with small drains to carry off the rain-water. Here
the coffee is allowed to dry in the heat of the sun, and it is then
shaken into large stone mortars, where it is lightly pounded with wooden
hammers, set in motion by water power. The whole mass falls into wooden
boxes attached to a long table, at which sit the negro workers, who
separate the coffee from the husk, and put it into flat copper pans. In
these it is carefully and skilfully turned about over a slow fire, until
desiccation is complete. On the whole, says Madame Ida Pfeiffer, the
preparation of the coffee is not laborious, and the harvest much more
easily gathered than one of corn. The negro, while plucking the coffee,
stands erect, and the tree protects him from the heat of the sun. His
only danger is from poisonous snakes, and a sting from one of these is a
very rare occurrence.
Another novelty which much impressed our traveller was the sight of the
frequent burning forests. These are set on fire in order to clear the
ground for cultivation. In most cases she viewed the tremendous
spectacle from a distance; but one day she realized it in all its
details, as her road lay between a wood in flames on the one hand, and
the brushwood, crackling and seething, on the other. The space between
the double rows of fire did not exceed fifty paces in breadth, and was
completely buried in smoke. The spluttering and hissing of the fire was
distinctly audible, and through the dense mass of vapour shot upward
thick shafts and tongues of flame, while now and then the large trees
crashed to the ground, with loud reports, like those of artillery.
[A Forest of Fire: page45.jpg]
"On seeing my guide enter this fiery gulf," says our traveller, "I was, I
must confess, rather frightened;" and her dread was surely very
excusable. She plucked up courage, however, when she saw that her guide
pushed forward. On the threshold, so to speak, sat two negroes, to
indicate the safe, and, in truth, the only path. The guide, in obedience
to their warning, spurred on his mule, and, followed by Madame Pfeiffer,
galloped at full speed across the desert of fire. Flames to the right of
them, flames to the left of them, onward they dashed, and happily
effected the passage in safety.
* * * * *
Madame Pfeiffer gives a bright description of the beauties of the road as
she pushed further into the interior. Crossing a small waterfall, she
struck right into the depths of the virgin forest, pursuing a narrow path
which ran along the bank of a little stream. Palms, with their lordly
crests, soared high above the other trees, which, intertwined by
inextricable boughs, formed the loveliest fairy-bowers imaginable; every
stem, every branch was luxuriously festooned with fantastic orchids;
while creepers and ferns glided up the tall, smooth trunks, mingling with
the boughs, and hanging in every direction waving curtains of flowers, of
the sweetest odours and the most vivid colours. With shrill twittering
cry and rapid wings flashed the humming-bird from bough to bough; the
pepper-pecker, with glowing plumage, soared timorously upwards; while
parrots and paroquets, and innumerable birds of beautiful appearance,
added, by their cries and motions, to the liveliness of the scene.
Madame Pfeiffer visited an Indian village. It lay deep in the forest
recesses, and consisted of five huts, or rather sheds, formed of leaves,
and measuring eighteen feet by twelve feet, erected under lofty trees.
The frames were formed of four poles stuck in the ground, with another
reaching across; and the roof was wrought of palm-leaves, by no means
impervious to the rain. The sides were open. In the interior hung a
hammock or two; and on the earth a few roots, Indian corn, and bananas
were roasting under a heap of ashes. In one corner, under the roof, a
small supply of provisions was hoarded up, and round about were scattered
a few gourds; these are used by the Puris as substitutes for "crockery."
Their weapons, the long bows and arrows, leaned against the wall.
Madame Pfeiffer describes the Puri Indians as even uglier than the
negroes. Their complexion is a light bronze; they are stunted in
stature, well-knit, and about the middle size. Their features are broad
and somewhat compressed; their hair is thick, long, and of a coal-black
colour. The men wear it hanging straight down; the women, in plaits
fastened to the back of the head, and sometimes falling loosely down
about their persons. Their forehead is broad and low, and the nose
somewhat flattened; the eyes are long and narrow, almost like those of
the Chinese; and the mouth is large, with rather thick lips. To enhance
the effect of these various charms, the countenance bears a peculiar look
of stupidity, which may be attributed perhaps to the way in which the
mouth is kept always open. Women, as well as males, are generally
tattooed of a reddish or blue colour, round the mouth, moustachio-wise.
Both sexes are addicted to smoking, and look upon brandy as the _summum
bonum_ of human life.
The Indians, ugly as they were, gave Madame Pfeiffer a hospitable
welcome. After an evening meal, in which roasted monkey and parrot were
the chief dishes, they performed one of their characteristic dances. A
quantity of wood was heaped up into a funeral pile, and set on fire; the
men then danced around it in a ring. They threw their bodies from side
to side with much awkwardness, but always moving the head forward in a
straight line. The women then joined in, forming at a short distance
behind the men, and imitating all their movements. A horrible noise
arose; this was intended for a song, the singers at the same time
distorting their features frightfully. One of them performed on a kind
of stringed instrument, made out of the stem of a cabbage-palm, and about
two feet, or two feet and a half, in length. A hole was cut in it
slantwise, and six fibres of the stem were kept up in an elevated
position at each end, by means of a small bridge. The fingers played
upon these as upon a guitar, drawing forth a very low, harsh, and
disagreeable tone. The dance, thus pleasingly accompanied, was called
the Dance of Peace and Joy.
A wilder measure was next undertaken by the men alone. They first
equipped themselves with bows, arrows, and stout clubs; then they formed
a circle, indulged in the most rapid and fantastic movements, and
brandished their clubs as if dealing death to a hundred foes. Suddenly
they broke their ranks, strung their bows, placed their arrows ready, and
represented all the evolutions of shooting after a flying foe, giving
utterance to the most piercing cries, which resounded through the forest-
glades. Madame Pfeiffer, believing that she was really surrounded by
enemies, started up in terror, and was heartily glad when the dance
ended.
[Cape Horn: page51.jpg]
From Rio Janeiro Madame Pfeiffer sailed in an English ship, the _John
Renwick_, on the 9th of December, bound for Valparaiso in Chili. She
kept to the south, touching at Santos, where the voyagers celebrated New-
Year's Day, and reaching the mouth of the Rio Plata on the 11th of
January. In these latitudes the Southern Cross is the most conspicuous
object in the heavens. It consists of four stars of much brilliancy,
arranged in two diagonal rows. Late in the month the voyagers sighted
the sterile shores and barren mountains of Patagonia, and next the
volcanic rocks, wave-worn and wind-worn, of Tierra del Fuego. Through
the Strait of Le Maire, which separates the latter from Staten Island,
they sailed onward to the extreme southern point of the American
continent, the famous promontory of Cape Horn. It is the termination of
the mighty mountain-chain of the Andes, and is formed of a mass of
colossal basaltic rocks, thrown together in wild disorder, as by a
Titan's hand.
Rounding Cape Horn they encountered a violent gale, which lasted for
several days; and soon discovered, like other voyagers, how little the
great southern ocean deserves its name of the Pacific. But they reached
Valparaiso in safety. Its appearance, however, did not very favourably
impress Madame Ida Pfeiffer. It is laid out in two long streets at the
foot of dreary hills, these hills consisting of a pile of rocks covered
with thin strata of earth and sand. Some of them are covered with
houses; on one of them is the churchyard; the others are bare and
solitary. The two chief streets are broad, and much frequented,
especially by horsemen; for every Chilian is born a horseman, and is
usually mounted on a steed worthy of a good rider.
Valparaiso houses are European in style, with flat Italian roofs. Broad
steps lead up into a lofty entrance-hall on the first floor, from which,
through large glass doors, the visitor passes into the drawing-room and
other apartments. The drawing-room is the pride not only of every
European settler, but of every native Chilian. The foot sinks into heavy
and costly carpets; the walls are emblazoned with rich tapestry; the
furniture and mirrors are of European make, and sumptuous in the extreme;
and every table presents the evidence of refined taste in gorgeous
albums, adorned with the choicest engravings.
As to the lower classes of the population, if we would obtain an idea of
their manners and customs, we must stroll on a fete-day into one of their
eating-houses.
In one corner, on the ground, crackles a tremendous fire, surrounded by
innumerable pots and pans, between which are wooden spits with beef and
pork, simmering and roasting with appetizing savour. A rude wooden frame-
work, with a long broad plank on it, occupies the middle of the room, and
is covered with a cloth, the original colour of which it is impossible to
determine. This is the guest-table. The dinner is served up in the most
primitive fashion imaginable, all the viands being heaped up in one dish;
beans and rice, potatoes and roast beef, onions and paradise apples,
forming a curious medley. The appetites of the guests are keen, and no
time is wasted in talking. At the end of the repast, a goblet of wine or
water passes from hand to hand; after which every tongue is loosened. In
the evening a guitar strikes up, and dancing becomes general.
A singular custom prevails among the Chilians on the death of a little
child. This incident, in most European families, is attended by much
sorrow: the Chilian parents make it the occasion of a great festival. The
deceased _angelito_, or little angel, is adorned in various ways. Its
eyes, instead of being closed, are opened as wide as possible; its cheeks
are painted red; then the cold rigid corpse is dressed in the finest
clothes, crowned with flowers, and set up in a little chair in a flower-
garlanded niche. The relatives and neighbours flock in, to wish the
parents joy on the possession of such an angel; and, during the first
night, they all indulge in the most extravagant dances, and feast with
sounds of wildest merriment before the _angelito_.
Madame Pfeiffer heard from a merchant the following story:--A
grave-digger, on his way to the churchyard with one of these deceased
angelitos, tarried at a tavern to refresh himself with a cup of wine. The
landlord inquired what he was carrying under his cloak, and on learning
that it was an angelito, offered him a shilling for it. A bargain was
soon struck; the landlord quickly fitted up a flowery niche in the
drinking-saloon, and then took care that his neighbours should know what
a treasure he had acquired. They came; they admired the angelito; they
drank copiously in its honour. But the parents hearing of the affair,
interfered, carried away their dead child, and summoned the landlord
before the magistrate. The latter gravely heard the pleadings on both
sides, and as no such case was mentioned in the statute-book, arranged it
amicably, to the satisfaction of both parties.
[Scene in Tahiti: page57.jpg]
* * * * *
Wearying of Valparaiso, our restless and adventurous traveller, who was
bent upon accomplishing a voyage round the world, took her passage for
China in the Dutch barque _Lootpurt_, Captain Van Wyk Jurianse.
They sailed from Valparaiso on the 18th of March, and on the 26th of
April came in sight of that gem of the South Seas, Tahiti, the Otaheite
of Captain Cook, and the largest and most beautiful of the Society group.
From the days of Bougainville, its discoverer, down to those of "the Earl
and the Doctor," who recently published a narrative of their visit, it
has been the theme of admiration for the charms of its scenery. It lifts
its lofty summit out of a wealth of luxuriant vegetation, which descends
to the very margin of a sea as blue as the sky above it. Cool green
valleys penetrate into its mountain-recesses, and their slopes are loaded
with groves of bread-fruit and cocoa-nut trees. The inhabitants,
physically speaking, are not unworthy of their island-Eden; they are a
tall, robust, and well-knit race, and would be comely but for their
custom of flattening the nose as soon as the child is born. They have
fine dark eyes, and thick jet-black hair. The colour of their skin is a
copper-brown. Both sexes are tattooed, generally from the hips half down
the legs, and frequently over the hands, feet, and other parts of the
body; the devices being often very fanciful in design, and always
artistically executed.
The women of Tahiti have always been notorious for their immodesty, and
the island, notwithstanding the labours of zealous missionaries,
continues to be the Polynesian Paphos. The French protectorate from
which it suffers has not raised the moral standard of the population.
Madame Pfeiffer undertook an excursion to the Lake Vaihiria, assuming for
the nonce a semi-masculine attire, which any less strong-minded and
adventurous woman would probably have refused. She wore, she tells us,
strong men's shoes, trousers, and a blouse, which was fastened high up
about the hips. Thus equipped, she started off with her guide, crossing
about two-and-thirty brooks before they entered the ravines leading into
the interior of the island.
She noticed that as they advanced the fruit-trees disappeared, and
instead, the slopes were covered with plantains, taros, and marantas; the
last attaining a height of twelve feet, and growing so luxuriantly that
it is with some difficulty the traveller makes his way through the
tangle. The taro, which is carefully cultivated, averages two or three
feet high, and has fine large leaves and tubers like those of the potato,
but not so good when roasted. There is much gracefulness in the
appearance of the plantain, or banana, which varies from twelve to
fifteen feet in height, and has leaves like those of the palm, but a
brittle reed-like stem, about eight inches in diameter. It attains its
full growth in the first year, bears fruit in the second, and then dies.
Thus its life is as brief as it is useful.
Through one bright mountain-stream, which swept along the ravine over a
stony bed, breaking up into eddies and tiny whirlpools, and in some
places attaining a depth of three feet, Madame Pfeiffer and her guide
waded or half-swam two-and-sixty times. The resolute spirit of the
woman, however, never failed her; and though the path at every step
became more difficult and dangerous, she persisted in pressing forward.
She clambered over rocks and stones; she forced her way through inter-
tangled bushes; and though severely wounded in her hands and feet, never
hesitated for a moment. In two places the ravine narrowed so
considerably that the entire space was filled by the brawling torrent. It
was here that the islanders, during their struggle against French
occupation, threw up stone walls five feet in height, as a barrier
against the enemy.
In eight hours the bold traveller and her guide had walked, waded, and
clambered fully eighteen miles, and had attained an elevation of eighteen
hundred feet. The lake itself was not visible until they stood upon its
shores, as it lies bosomed in a deep hollow, among lofty and precipitous
mountains which descend with startling abruptness to the very brink of
its dark, deep waters. To cross the lake it is necessary to put one's
trust in one's swimming powers, or in a curiously frail kind of boat,
which the natives prepare with equal rapidity and skill. Madame
Pfeiffer, however, was nothing if not adventurous. Whatever there was to
be dared, she immediately dared. At her request, the guide made the
usual essay at boat-building. He tore off some plantain branches, bound
them together with long tough grass, laid a few leaves upon them,
launched them in the water, and requested Madame Pfeiffer to embark. She
confesses to having felt a little hesitation, but without saying a word,
she stepped on board. Then her guide took to the water like a duck, and
pushed her forward. The passage across the lake, and back again, was in
this way accomplished without any accident.
Having satiated herself with admiring the lake and its surrounding
scenery, she retired to a little nook roofed over with leaves, where her
guide quickly kindled a good fire in the usual Indian fashion. He cut a
small piece of wood to a fine point, and then selecting a second piece,
grooved it with a narrow and not very deep furrow. In this he rubbed the
pointed stick until the fragments detached during the process began to
smoke. These he flung into a heap of dry leaves and grass previously
collected, and swung the whole several times round in the air, until it
broke out into flames. The entire process did not occupy above two
minutes. Gathering a few plantains, these were roasted for supper; after
which Madame Pfeiffer withdrew to her solitary couch of dry leaves, to
sleep as best she might. It is impossible not to wonder at the
marvellous physical capability of this adventurous woman, no less than at
her courage, her resolution, and her perseverance. How many of her sex
could bear for a week the fatigue and exposure to which she subjected
herself year after year?
The next morning she accomplished the return journey in safety.
* * * * *
[Hong-Kong: page65.jpg]
On the 17th of May she left Tahiti, the Dutch vessel in which she had
embarked being bound via the Philippines. They passed this rich and
radiant group of islands on the 1st of July, and the next day entered the
dangerous China Sea. A few days afterwards they reached Hong-Kong, which
has been an English settlement since 1842. Here Madame Pfeiffer made no
long stay, for she desired to see China and the Chinese with as little
intermixture of the European element as possible. So she ascended the
Pearl river, the banks of which are covered with immense plantations of
rice, and studded with quaint little country-houses, of the genuine
Chinese pattern, with sloping, pointed roofs, and mosaics of variously
coloured tiles, to Canton, one of the great commercial centres of the
Flowery Land. As she approached she surveyed with wonder the animated
scene before her. The river was crowded with ships and inhabited boats.
Junks there were, almost as large as the old Spanish galleons, with poops
impending far over the water, and covered in with a roof, like a house.
Men-of-war there were, flat, broad, and long, mounted with twenty or
thirty guns, and adorned in the usual Chinese fashion, with two large
painted eyes at the prow, that they may be the better able to find their
way. Mandarins' boats she saw, with doors, and sides, and windows gaily
painted, with carved galleries, and tiny silken flags fluttering from
every point. And flower-boats she also saw; their upper galleries decked
with flowers, garlands, and arabesques, as if these were barks fitted out
for the service of Titania and her fairy company. The interior is
divided into one large apartment and a few cabinets, which are lighted by
windows of fantastic design. Mirrors and silk hangings embellish the
walls, while the enchanting scene is completed with an ample garniture of
glass chandeliers and coloured paper lanterns, interspersed with lovely
little baskets of fresh flowers.
It is not necessary to attempt a description of Canton, with its pagodas,
houses, shops, and European factories. Let us direct our attention to
the manners, customs, and peculiarities of its inhabitants. As to dress
and appearance, the costume of both sexes, among the lower orders,
consists of full trousers and long upper garments, and is chiefly
remarkable for its "excessive filth." Baths and ablutions have no charm
for the Chinaman; he scorns to wear a shirt, and he holds by his trousers
until they drop from his body. The men's upper garments reach a little
below the knee, the women's about half way down the calf. They are made
of nankeen, or dark blue, brown, or black silk. During the cold season
both men and women wear one summer garment over the other, keeping the
whole together with a girdle; in the extreme heat, however, they suffer
them to float as free as "Nora Creina's robes" in Moore's pretty ballad.
The men keep their heads shaved, with the exception of a small patch at
the back, where the hair is carefully cultivated and plaited into a cue.
The thicker and longer this cue is, the prouder is its owner; false hair
and black ribbon, therefore, are all deftly worked into it, with the
result of forming an appendage which often reaches down to the ankles!
While at work the owner twists it round his neck, but on entering a room
he lets it down again, as it would be contrary to all the laws of
etiquette and courtesy for a person to make his appearance with his cue
twisted up. The women comb their hair entirely back from their forehead,
and fasten it to the head in the most artistic plaits. The process
occupies a considerable time, but when the hair is once dressed it is not
retouched for a whole week. Both men and women frequently go about with
heads uncovered; but sometimes they wear hats of thin bamboo, three feet
in diameter. These are not only an adequate protection against sun and
rain, but are exceedingly durable.
Large numbers of Chinese live a kind of aquatic life, and make their home
on board a river-boat. The husband goes on shore to his work, and his
wife meantime adds to the income of the family by ferrying persons from
bank to bank, or letting out the boat to pleasure parties--always
reserving one half of its accommodation for herself and household. Room
is not very abundant, as the whole boat does not exceed twenty-five feet
in length; but everywhere the greatest order and cleanliness are
apparent, each separate plank being enthusiastically scrubbed and washed
every morning. It is worth notice how each inch of space is turned to
the best advantage, room being made even for the _lares_ and _penates_.
All the washing and cooking are done during the day; yet the pleasure
party is never in the least degree inconvenienced.
Of course our traveller was attracted by the diminutiveness of the feet
of the Chinese women, and she had an opportunity of examining one of
these tiny monstrosities _in natura_. Four of the toes were bent under
the sole of the foot, to which they were firmly pressed, and
simultaneously with which they appeared to have grown, if growth it can
be called; the great toe alone remained in its natural state. The fore
part of the foot had been so swathed and compressed by tight bandages,
that, instead of expanding in length and breadth, it had shot upwards, so
as to form a large lump at the instep, where it became, so to speak, a
portion of the leg; the lower part of the foot was scarcely five inches
long, and an inch and a half broad. The feet are always encased in white
linen or silk, with silk bandages over all, and are then stuffed into
pretty little shoes with very high heels. "To my astonishment," says
Madame Pfeiffer, "these deformed beings tripped about, as if in defiance
of us broad-footed creatures, with tolerable ease, the only difference in
their gait being that they waddled like geese; they even ran up and down
stairs without a stick." She adds, that the value of a bride is reckoned
by the smallness of her feet.
It was characteristic of Madame Pfeiffer that she found means to see much
which no European woman had ever seen before. She obtained access even
to a Buddhist temple,--that of Houan, reputed to be one of the finest in
China. The sacred enclosure is surrounded by a high wall. The visitor
enters first a large outer court, at the extremity of which a huge
gateway opens upon an inner court. Beneath the arch stand two statues of
war-gods, each eighteen feet high, with terribly distorted faces and the
most menacing attitudes; these are supposed to prevent the approach of
evil genii. A second portal, of similar construction, under which are
placed the "four heavenly kings," leads to a third court, surrounding the
principal temple, a structure one hundred feet in length, and of equal
breadth. On rows of wooden pillars is supported a flat roof, from which
glass lamps, lustres, artificial flowers, and brightly-coloured ribbons
hang suspended. All about the area are scattered statues, altars, vases
of flowers, censers, candelabra, and other accessories.
But the eye is chiefly attracted by the three altars in the foreground,
with the three coloured statues behind them, of Buddha, seated, as
emblematic of Past, Present, and Future. On the occasion of Madame
Pfeiffer's visit a service was being performed,--a funeral ceremony in
honour of a mandarin's deceased wife, and at his expense. Before the
altars on the right and left stood several priests, in garments strangely
resembling, as did the ceremonial observances, those of the Roman Church.
The mandarin himself, attended by two servants armed with large fans,
prayed before the central altar. He kissed the ground repeatedly, and
each time he did so three sweet-scented wax-tapers were put into his
hand. After raising them in the air, he handed them to the priests, who
then stationed them, unlighted, before the Buddha images. Meantime, the
temple resounded with the blended strains of three musicians, one of whom
struck a metal ball, the other scraped a stringed instrument, and the
third educed shrill notes from a kind of flute.
This principal temple is surrounded by numerous smaller sanctuaries, each
decorated with images of deities, rudely wrought, but glowing with gilt
and vivid colours. Special reverence seems to be accorded to Kwanfootse,
a demigod of War, and the four-and-twenty gods of Mercy. These latter
have four, six, and even eight arms. In the Temple of Mercy Madame
Pfeiffer met with an unpleasant adventure. A Bonze had offered her and
her companions a couple of wax tapers to light in honour of the god. They
were on the point of complying, as a matter of civility, when an American
missionary, who made one of the party, snatched them roughly from their
hands, and gave them back to the priests, protesting that such compliance
was idolatrous. The Bonze, in high indignation, closed the door, and
summoned his brethren, who hurried in from all sides, and jostled and
pushed and pressed, while using the most violent language. It was not
without difficulty they forced their way through the crowd, and escaped
from the temple.
The guide next led the curiosity-hunters to the so-called House of the
Sacred Swine. The greatest attention is paid to these porcine treasures,
and they reside in a spacious stone hall; but not the less is the
atmosphere heavy with odours that are not exactly those of Araby the
Blest. Throughout their sluggish existence the swine are carefully fed
and cherished, and no cruel knife cuts short the thread of their destiny.
At the time of Madame Pfeiffer's visit only one pair were enjoying their
_otium cum dignitate_, and the number rarely exceeds three pairs.
Peeping into the interior of a Bonze's house, the company came upon an
opium-smoker. He lay stretched upon a mat, with small tea-cups beside
him, some fruit, a tiny lamp, and several miniature-headed pipes, from
one of which he was inhaling the intoxicating smoke. It is said that
some of the Chinese opium-smokers consume as much as twenty or thirty
grains daily. This poor wretch was not wholly unconscious of the
presence of visitors; and, laying by his pipe, he raised himself from the
ground, and dragged his body to a chair. With deadly pale face and
fixed, staring eyes, he presented a miserable appearance.
* * * * *
Our traveller also visited a pagoda,--the Half-Way Pagoda; so called by
the English because it is situated half-way between Canton and Whampoa.
On a small hillock, in the midst of vast tracts of rice, it raises its
nine stories to a height of one hundred and seventy feet. Though
formerly of great repute, it is now deserted. The interior has been
stripped of statues and ornaments, and the floors having been removed,
the visitor sees to the very summit. Externally, each stage is indicated
by a small balcony without railing, access being obtained by steep and
narrow flights of stairs. A picturesque effect is produced by these
projections, as everybody knows who has examined a "willow-pattern"
plate. They are built of coloured bricks, which are laid in rows, with
their points jutting obliquely outwards, and faced with variegated tiles.
Even more interesting was Madame Pfeiffer's peep into the "domestic
interior" of Mandarin Howqua.
The house was of large size, but only one story high, with wide and
splendid terraces. The windows looked into the inner courts. At the
entrance were two painted images of gods to ward off evil spirits, like
the horse-shoe formerly suspended to the cottages and barns of our
English peasants.
The front part was divided into several reception rooms, without front
walls; and adjoining these, bloomed bright and gaily-ordered parterres of
flowers and shrubs. The magnificent terraces above also bloomed with
blossom, and commanded a lively view of the crowded river, and of the
fine scenery that spreads around Canton. Elegant little cabinets
surrounded these rooms, being separated by thin partitions, through which
the eye could easily penetrate, and frequently embellished with gay and
skilfully-executed paintings. The material used was chiefly bamboo,
which was as delicate as gauze, and copiously decorated with painted
flowers or beautifully-written proverbs.
The chairs and sofas were numerous, and of really artistic workmanship.
Some of the arm-chairs were cunningly wrought out of a single piece of
wood. The seats of others were beautiful marble slabs; of others, again,
fine coloured tiles or porcelain. Articles of European manufacture, such
as handsome mirrors, clocks, vases, and tables of Florentine mosaic or
variegated marble, were plentiful. There was also a remarkable
collection of lamps and lanterns pendent from the ceilings,
consisting--these lamps and lanterns--of glass, transparent horn, and
coloured gauze or paper, ornamented with glass beads, fringe, and
tassels. And as the walls were also largely supplied with lamps, the
apartments, when lighted up, assumed a truly fairy-like character.
[Chinese House and Garden: page77.jpg]
The mandarin's pleasure-garden stretched along the river-side. Its
cultivation was perfect, but no taste was shown in its arrangement.
Wherever the visitor turned, kiosks, summer-houses, and bridges
confronted her. Every path and open spot were lined with large and small
flower-pots, in which grew flowers and liliputian fruit-trees of all
kinds. In the art of dwarfing trees, if such distortion and crippling of
Nature deserves to be called an art, the Chinese are certainly most
accomplished experts; but what can we think of the taste, or want of
taste, which prefers pigmies three feet high to the lofty and
far-shadowing trees which embellish our English parks and gardens? Why
should a civilized people put Nature in fetters, and delight in checking
her growth, in limiting her spontaneous energies?
Here are some particulars about the tea-plant:--In the plantations around
Canton, it is not allowed to grow higher than six feet, and is
consequently cut at intervals. Its leaves are considered good from the
third to the eighth year; and the plant is then cut down, in order that
it may throw off new shoots, or else it is rooted out. Three gatherings
take place in the year; the first in March, the second in April, and the
third, which lasts for three months, in May. So fine and delicate are
the leaves of the first gathering, that they might easily be mistaken for
the blossom; which undoubtedly has originated the error that the
so-called "bloom or imperial tea" consists of the flowers and not of the
leaves of the plant.
When gathered, the leaves are thrown for a few seconds into boiling
water, and then placed on flat iron plates, inserted slantwise in stone-
work. While roasting over a gentle fire, they are continually stirred.
As soon as they begin to curl a little, they are scattered over large
planks, and each single leaf is rolled together; a process so rapidly
accomplished that it requires a person's sole attention to detect that
only one leaf is rolled up at a time. This completed, all the leaves are
again placed in the pans. Black tea takes some time to roast; and the
green is frequently coloured with Prussian blue, an exceedingly small
quantity of which is added during the second roasting. Last of all, the
tea is once more shaken out upon the boards, and submitted to a careful
inspection, the leaves that are not entirely closed being rolled over
again.
[Singapore: page81.jpg]
Madame Pfeiffer had an opportunity of tasting a cup of tea made after the
most approved Chinese fashion. A small quantity was dropped into a
delicate porcelain cup, boiling water was poured upon it, and a tightly-
fitting cover then adjusted to the cup. After a few seconds, the
infusion was ready for drinking--neither milk, cream, nor sugar being
added.
* * * * *
But we must tarry no longer within the borders of the Celestial Empire.
We have to follow Madame Pfeiffer in her wanderings over many seas and
through many countries,--for in the course of her adventurous career she
saw more of "men and cities" than even the much-travelling Ulysses,--and
our limits confine us to brief notices of the most remarkable places she
visited.
From China she sailed for the East Indies.
On her way she "looked in" at Singapore, a British settlement, where
gather the traders of many Asiatic nations. The scenery which stretches
around it is of a rich and agreeable character, and the island on which
it is situated excels in fertility of vegetation. A saunter among the
plantations of cloves and nutmegs is very pleasant, the air breathing a
peculiar balsamic fragrance. The nutmeg-tree is about the size of a good
apricot-bush, and from top to bottom is a mass of foliage; the branches
grow very low down the stem, and the leaves glitter as if they were
varnished. The fruit closely resembles an apricot, covered with spots of
yellowish-brown. It bursts on attaining maturity, and then reveals a
round kernel, of the size of a nut, embedded in a network, sold as mace,
of a beautiful red colour. This network of fibrous material is carefully
separated from the nutmeg, and dried in the shade,--being frequently
sprinkled with sea-water, to prevent the colour deepening into black,
instead of changing into yellow. The nutmeg is likewise dried, exposed a
while to the action of smoke, and dipped several times into sea-water
containing a weak solution of lime, to prevent it from turning mouldy.
The clove-tree is smaller, and less copiously provided with foliage, than
the nutmeg-tree. The buds form what are known to us as cloves; and, of
course, are gathered before they have had time to blossom. The areca-nut
palm is also plentiful in Singapore. It grows in clusters of from ten to
twenty nuts; is somewhat larger than a nutmeg, and of a bright colour,
almost resembling gilt.
The Chinese and the natives of the Eastern Islands chew it with betel-
leaf and calcined mussel-shells. With a small quantity of the latter
they strew the leaf; a very small piece of the nut is added, and the
whole is made into a little packet, which they put into their mouth.
Madame Pfeiffer also inspected a sago manufactory. The unprepared
farina, which is the pith of the sago palm, is imported from a
neighbouring island. The tree is cut down when it is seven years old,
split from top to bottom, and the pith extracted from it. Then it is
freed from the fibres, pressed in large frames, and dried at the fire or
in the sun. At Singapore this pith or meal, which is of a yellowish
tint, is steeped in water for several days until completely blanched; it
is then once more dried by the fire or in the sun, passed under a large
wooden roller, and through a hair sieve. When it has become white and
fine, it is placed in a kind of linen winnowing-fan, which is kept damp
in a peculiar manner. The workman takes a mouthful of water, and "spirts
it out like fine rain over the fan;" the meal being alternately shaken
and moistened until it assumes the character of small globules. These
are stirred round in large flat pans, until they are dried. Then they
are passed through a second sieve, not quite so fine as the first, and
the larger globules are separated from the rest.
Pepper and gambir plantations are also among the "sights" of Singapore.
The pepper-tree is a small bush-like plant, which, when carefully
trained, springs to a height of eighteen feet. The pepper-pods grow in
small clusters, and change from red to green, and then to black. White
pepper is nothing more than the black pepper blanched by frequent
steeping in sea-water. The gambir does not grow taller than eight feet.
The leaves, which are used in dyeing, are first stripped from the stalk,
and then boiled down in large coppers. The thick juice is placed in
white wooden vessels, and dried in the sun; then it is divided into slips
about three inches long, and packed up.
Singapore is an island of _fruits_. It boasts of the delicious
mangosteen, which almost melts in the mouth, and delights the palate with
its exquisite flavour. It boasts, too, of splendid pine-apples,
frequently weighing as much as four pounds. Also of sauersop, as big as
the biggest pine-apples, green outside, and white or pale yellow inside,
with a taste and fragrance like that of strawberries. Nor must the
gumaloh be forgotten: it is divided, like the orange, into sections, but
is five times as large, and not quite so sweet. Finally, we must refer
to the custard-apple, which is very white (though full of black pips),
very soft, and very enticing in flavour.
* * * * *
From Singapore we follow Madame Pfeiffer to Point de Galle, in Ceylon.
The appearance of this fair and fertile island from the sea is the theme
of every traveller's praise. "It was one of the most magnificent sights
I ever beheld," says Madame Pfeiffer, "to see the island soaring
gradually from the sea, with its mountain-ranges growing more and more
distinctly defined, their summits lighted by the sun, while the dense
cocoa-groves, and hills and plains, lay shrouded in shadow." Above the
whole towers the purple mass of Adam's Peak; and the eye rests in every
direction on the most luxuriant foliage, with verdurous glades, and
slopes carpeted with flowers.
Point de Galle presents a curious mixture of races. Cingalese,
Kanditons, Tamils from South India, and Moormen, with crimson caftans and
shaven crowns, form the bulk of the crowds that throng its streets; but,
besides these, there are Portuguese, Chinese, Jews, Arabs, Parsees,
Englishmen, Malays, Dutchmen, and half-caste burghers, and now and then a
veiled Arabian woman, or a Veddah, one of the aboriginal inhabitants of
the island. Sir Charles Dilke speaks of "silent crowds of tall and
graceful girls, wearing, as we at first supposed, white petticoats and
bodices; their hair carried off the face with a decorated hoop, and
caught at the back by a high tortoise-shell comb. As they drew near,
moustaches began to show, and I saw that they were men; whilst walking
with them were women naked to the waist, combless, and far more rough and
'manly' than their husbands. Petticoat and chignon are male institutions
in Ceylon."
* * * * *
Madame Pfeiffer, with unresting energy, visited Colombo and Kandy, the
chief towns of the island. At the latter she obtained admission to the
Temple of Dagoba, which contains a precious relic of the god
Buddha--namely, one of his teeth. The sanctuary containing this sacred
treasure is a small chamber or cell, less than twenty feet in breadth. It
is enveloped in darkness, as there are no windows; and the door is
curtained inside, for the more effectual exclusion of the light. Rich
tapestry covers the walls and ceiling. But the chief object is the
altar, which glitters with plates of silver, and is incrusted about the
edges with precious stones. Upon it stands a bell-shaped case about
three feet in height, and three feet in diameter at the base. It is made
of silver, elaborately gilt, and decorated with a number of costly
jewels. A peacock in the middle blazes with jewels. Six smaller cases,
reputed to be of gold, are enclosed within the large one, and under the
last is the tooth of Buddha. As it is as large as that of a great bull,
one trembles to think how monstrous must have been the jaw of the Indian
creed-founder!
[Native boat, Madras: page89.jpg]
* * * * *
Madame Ida Pfeiffer arrived at Madras on the 30th of October. She
describes the process of disembarkation; but as her details are few, and
refer to a comparatively distant date, we propose to rely on the
narrative of a recent traveller.
From time immemorial, he says, the system of landing and embarking
passengers and cargo has been by means of native Massulah boats,
constructed of mango wood, calked with straw, and sewn together with
cocoa-nut fibre. The ships drop their anchors in the roads half a mile
from the shore; the Massulah boat pulls off alongside, receives its cargo
at the gangway, and is then beached through the surf. It is no uncommon
circumstance for the boat alongside, assisted by the rolling of the ship,
to rise and fall twenty-five feet relatively to the height of the ship's
deck at each undulation. Ladies are lashed into chairs, and from the
ship's yard-arm lowered into the boat. In 1860 some improvement was
effected by the construction of an iron pier, about nine hundred feet in
length, and twenty feet in height. But a spacious and sheltered harbour
is now being provided, by means of piers running out from the shore five
hundred yards north and south respectively of the screw pile pier now
existing, so as to enclose a rectangular area of one thousand yards in
length by eight hundred and thirty yards in width, or one hundred and
seventy acres. The foundation-stone was laid by the Prince of Wales in
the course of his Indian progress in 1876.
Madame Pfeiffer stayed but a few hours at Madras, and her notes
respecting it are of no value. We will proceed at once to Calcutta, the
"City of Palaces," as it has been called, and the capital of our Indian
Empire.
She speaks of the Viceroy's Palace as a magnificent building, and one
that would ornament any city in the world. Other noticeable edifices are
the Town Hall, the Hospital, the Museum, Ochterlony's Monument, the Mint,
and the Cathedral. Ochterlony's Monument is a plain stone column, one
hundred and sixty-five feet high, erected in commemoration of a sagacious
statesman and an able soldier. From its summit, to which access is
obtained by two hundred and twenty-two steps, may be obtained a noble
view of the city, the broad reaches of the Ganges, and the fertile plains
of Bengal.
The Cathedral is an imposing pile. Its architecture is Gothic, and the
interior produces a very fine effect by the harmony of its proportions
and the richness of its details. The ill-famed "Black Hole," in which
the Rajah Surajah Dowlah confined one hundred and fifty English men and
women, when he obtained possession of Calcutta in 1756--confining them in
a narrow and noisome cell, which poisoned them with its malarious
atmosphere, so that by morning only a few remained alive--is now part of
a warehouse. But an obelisk stands at the entrance, inscribed with the
names of the victims.
The fashionable promenade at Calcutta is the Maidan. It runs along the
bank of the Hooghly, and is bounded on the other side by rows of palatial
mansions. It commands a good view of the Viceroy's Palace, the
Cathedral, the Ochterlony Column, the strong defensive works of Fort
William; and is altogether a very interesting and attractive spot.
Every evening, before sunset, thither wends the fashionable world of
Calcutta. The impassive European, with all the proud consciousness of a
conquering race; the half-Europeanized baboo; the deposed rajah,--all may
be seen driving to and fro in splendid equipages, drawn by handsome
steeds, and followed by servants in gay Oriental attire. The rajahs and
"nabobs" are usually dressed in gold-embroidered robes of silk, over
which are thrown the costliest Indian shawls. Ladies and gentlemen, on
English horses of the best blood, canter along the road, or its turfen
borders; while crowds of dusky natives gather in all directions, or
leisurely move homewards after their day's work. A bright feature of the
scene is the animated appearance of the Hooghly: first-class East
Indiamen are lying at anchor, ships are arriving or preparing for
departure, the native craft incessantly ply to and fro, and a Babel of
voices of different nationalities rises on the air.
Here is a picture of the Maidan, drawn by another lady-traveller, Mrs.
Murray Mitchell:--
[The Maidan, Calcutta: page95.jpg]
It is, she says, a noble expanse, which, about a hundred years ago, was a
wild swampy jungle, famous only for snipe-shooting. Strange to say, it
is not, like most Indian plains, burned up and brown, but, from its
vicinity to the river, and the frequent showers that visit it, as fresh
and green as an English park. It has a few fine tanks, and is sprinkled
with some leafy trees; these, however, not so numerous as they were
before the cyclones of 1864 and 1867, which swept away its chief natural
beauties. Several broad well-kept drives intersect it, and it is
ornamented by some graceful gardens and a few handsome columns and
statues. Indeed, the Maidan is the centre of all that is grand and
imposing; the shabby and the unsightly is kept behind, out of view.
Facing it, along its eastern marge, stand the noble pillared palaces of
Chowringhee. At one end stands the handsome new Court House; also the
Town Hall, and other buildings of less pretence; and, further on, the
noble pile of Government House, with four handsome entrance gates, and
surrounded by shrubberies and gardens. In front spread the Eden Gardens,
a delightful addition to the beauties both of Government House and the
Esplanade. From this point the business part of Calcutta extends in a
northerly direction, including Dalhousie Square, with its many buildings,
among which conspicuous stands the domed Post Office--the vista closing
gracefully with the shapely spire of St. Andrew's Church. At the further
extremity, nearly two miles across the verdant expanse, are seen the
Cathedral, with its noble spire, the General Hospital, and the Jail; and
still further, the richly-wooded suburbs of Kidderpore and Alipore. Fort
William fronts toward the river, and with its ramparts and buildings
forms a striking object; while the whole is bordered and "beautified" by
the broad river, with its crowd of masts and flags, its almost
innumerable boats, its landing-ghats, and all its life and motion.
* * * * *
[Benares: page99.jpg]
From Calcutta, Madame Pfeiffer proceeded to the city of temples, the
sacred city of Hinduism--Benares. She visited several temples, but found
them all agreeing in their leading details. That of Vishnu has two
towers connected by colonnades, the summits of which are covered with
gold plates. Inside are several images of Vishnu and Siva, wreathed with
flowers, and strewn over with grains of rice and wheat. Images in metal
or stone of the sacred bull are plentiful everywhere; and living bulls
wander about freely, the object of special care and adoration. They are
free to stray where they will, not in the temple precincts only, but also
in the streets.
Among the other buildings, the one most worthy of notice is the Mosque of
Aurengzebe, famous on account of its two minarets, which are 150 feet in
height, and reported to be the slenderest in the world. They resemble a
couple of needles, and certainly better deserve the name than that of
Cleopatra at Alexandria. Narrow winding staircases in the interior lead
to the summit, on which a small platform, with a balustrade about a foot
high, is erected. From this vantage-point a noble view of the city, it
is said, may be obtained; but few persons, we should think, have heads
cool enough to enjoy it. With all Madame Pfeiffer's adventurousness, she
did not essay this perilous experiment.
The Observatory, constructed for the great Mohammedan emperor Akbar, is
also an object of interest. It is not furnished, like a European
observatory, with the usual astronomical instruments, telescopes, rain-
gauges, anemometers, and the like, the handiwork of cunning artificers in
glass and metal; but everything is of stone--solid, durable stone. On a
raised terrace stand circular tables, semicircular and quadratic curves,
all of stone, and all inscribed with mystic signs and characters.
Benares is celebrated for its bazaars, in which are exhibited some of the
rarest productions of the East; but its principal attraction is its
sanctity, and crowds of pilgrims resort to its temples, and cleanse
themselves of their sins by bathing in the fast-flowing Ganges. To die
at Benares is regarded as a passport to heaven; and one of the most
frequent sights is the burning of a corpse on the river-bank, with
ceremonies proportioned to the rank and wealth of the deceased--the ashes
being afterwards committed to the holy waters. Benares is also famous
for its palaces. Of these the most splendid is that which the rajah
inhabits. It was visited by Madame Pfeiffer, who appears to have gone
everywhere and seen everybody at her own sweet will and pleasure, and she
was even admitted to the rajah's presence.
A handsomely-decorated boat, she says, awaited her and her
fellow-traveller at the bank of the river. They crossed; a palanquin was
ready to receive them. Soon they arrived at the stately gateway which
forms the entrance to the palace. The interior proved to be a labyrinth
of irregular courts and small unsymmetrical chambers. In one of the
courts a hall, surrounded by plain columns, served as a reception-room.
This was cumbrously loaded with lamps, glass lustres, and European
furniture; on the walls hung some wretched pictures, framed and glazed.
Presently the rajah made his appearance, accompanied by his brother, and
attended by a long train of courtiers. The two princes were gorgeously
attired; they wore wide trousers, long under and short over garments, all
of satin, covered with gold embroidery. The rajah himself, aged thirty-
five, wore short silken cuffs, glowing with gold, and trimmed with
diamonds; several large brilliants shone on his fingers, and rich gold
embroidery was woven about his shoes. His brother, a youth of nineteen,
wore a white turban, with a costly clasp of diamonds and pearls. Large
pearls hung from his ears; rich massive bracelets clasped his wrists.
The guests having taken their seats, a large silver basin was brought in,
with elaborately-wrought narghillies, and they were invited to smoke.
This honour they declined. The rajah then smoked in solitary dignity--his
pipe being changed as soon as he had taken a few whiffs.
A nautchni, or dance by nautches, was next provided for the visitors'
entertainment. There were three musicians and two dancers. The latter
were dressed in gay gold-woven muslin robes, with wide silk
gold-broidered trousers, reaching to the ground, and quite covering their
bare feet. One of the musicians beat a couple of small drums; the others
played on four-stringed instruments not unlike a violin. They stood
close behind the dancers, and their music was wholly innocent of melody
or harmony; but to the rhythm, which was strongly accentuated, the
dancers moved their arms, hands, and fingers in a very animated manner,
and at intervals their feet, so as to ring the numerous tiny bells that
cover them. Their attitudes were not ungraceful. The performance lasted
a quarter of an hour, after which they accompanied the dance with what
was intended for singing, but sounded like shrieking. Meantime,
sweetmeats, fruits, and sherbet were handed round.
As a contrast to this gay scene, Madame Pfeiffer describes the
performance of the wretched fanatics called fakeers. These men inflict
upon themselves the most extraordinary tortures. Thus: they stick an
iron hook through their flesh, and allow themselves to be suspended by it
at a height of twenty or five-and-twenty feet. {105} Or for long hours
they stand upon one foot in the burning sunshine, with their arms rigidly
extended in the air. Or they hold heavy weights in various positions,
swing round and round for hours together, and tear the flesh from their
bodies with red-hot pincers. Madame Pfeiffer saw two of these
unfortunate victims of a diseased imagination. One held a heavy axe over
his head, in the attitude of a workman bent on felling a tree; in this
position he stood, rigid as a statue. The other held the point of his
toe to his nose.
* * * * *
In her tour through India our traveller passed through Allahabad,
situated at the junction of the Jumna and the Ganges, and the resort of
many pilgrims; Agra, where she admired, as so many travellers have
admired, the lovely Taj-Mahal, erected by the Sultan Jehan in memory of
his favourite wife,--and the Pearl Mosque, with its exquisitely delicate
carving; Delhi, the ancient capital of the Moguls, which figured so
conspicuously in the history of the Sepoy rebellion; the cave-temples of
Ajunta and Ellora; and the great commercial emporium of Bombay.
Quitting the confines of British India, Madame Pfeiffer, ever in quest of
the new and strange, sailed to Bassora, and ascended the historic Tigris,
so named from the swiftness of its course, to Bagdad, that quaint, remote
Oriental city, which is associated with so many wonderful legends and not
less wonderful "travellers' tales." This was of old the residence of the
great caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, a ruler of no ordinary sagacity, and the
hero of many a tradition, whom "The Thousand and One Nights" have made
familiar to every English boy. It is still a populous and wealthy city;
many of its houses are surrounded by blooming gardens; its shops are gay
with the products of the Eastern loom; and it descends in terraces to the
bank of the river, which flows in the shade of orchards and groves of
palm. Over all extends the arch of a glowing sky.
From Bagdad an excursion to the ruins of Babylon is natural enough. They
consist of massive fragments of walls and columns, strewn on either side
of the Euphrates.
[Cave temple at Ellora: page107.jpg]
On the 17th of June our heroic traveller joined a caravan which was bound
for Mosul, a distance of three hundred miles, occupying from twelve to
fourteen days. The journey is one of much difficulty and no little
danger, across a desert country of the most lifeless character. We shall
relate a few of Madame Pfeiffer's experiences.
One day she repaired to a small village in search of food. After
wandering from hut to hut, she obtained a small quantity of milk and
three eggs. She laid the eggs in hot ashes, and covered them over;
filled her leathern flask from the Tigris; and, thus loaded, returned to
the encampment formed by the caravan. She ate her eggs and drank her
milk with an appetite for which an epicure would be thankful.
The mode of making butter in vogue at this village was very peculiar. The
cream was put into a leathern bottle, and shaken about on the ground
until the butter consolidated. It was then put into another bottle
filled with water, and finally turned out as white as snow.
Next day, when they rested during the heat, the guide of the caravan
endeavoured to procure her a little shelter from the glare of the
pitiless sun by laying a small cover over a couple of poles stuck into
the ground. But the place shaded was so small, and the tent so frail,
that she was compelled to sit quietly in one position, as the slightest
movement would have involved it in ruin. Shortly afterwards, when she
wished for some refreshment, nothing could be procured but lukewarm
water, bread so hard that it could not be eaten until thoroughly soaked,
and a cucumber without salt or vinegar.
At a village near Kerka the caravan tarried for two days. On the first
day Madame Pfeiffer's patience was sorely tried. All the women of the
place flocked to examine the stranger. First they inspected her clothes,
then wanted to take the turban off her head; and, in fact, proved
themselves most troublesome intruders. At last Madame Pfeiffer seized
one of them by the arm, and turned her out of her tent so quickly that
she had no time to think of resistance. By the eloquence of gesture our
traveller made the others understand that, unless they withdrew at once,
a similarly abrupt dismissal awaited them. She then drew a circle round
her tent, and forbade them to cross it; an injunction which was strictly
respected.
She had now only to settle with the wife of her guide, who had besieged
her the whole day, pressing as near as possible, and petitioning for some
of her "things." Fortunately her husband came on the scene, and to him
Madame Pfeiffer preferred her complaint, threatening to leave his house
and seek shelter elsewhere,--well knowing that the Arabs consider this a
great disgrace. He immediately ordered his wife to desist, and the
traveller was at peace. "I always succeeded," says Madame Pfeiffer, "in
obtaining my own will. I found that energy and boldness influence all
people, whether Arabs, Persians, Bedaween, or others." But for this
strong will, this indomitable resolution, Madame Pfeiffer assuredly could
not have succeeded in the enterprises she so daringly undertook. Even
for a man to have accomplished them would have earned our praise; what
shall we not say when they were conceived and carried out by a woman?
Towards evening, she says, to her great delight a caldron of mutton was
set on the fire. For eight days she had eaten nothing but bread,
cucumbers, and some dates; and therefore had a great desire for a hot and
more nutritious meal. But her appetite was greatly diminished when she
saw their style of cookery. The old woman (her guide's mother) threw
several handfuls of small grain, and a large quantity of onions, into a
panful of water to soften. In about half an hour she thrust her dirty
hands into the water, and mixed the whole together, now and then taking a
mouthful, and after chewing it, spitting it back again into the pan. Then
she took a dirty rag, strained through it the delicate mixture, and
poured it over the meat in the larger vessel. Madame Pfeiffer had firmly
resolved not to touch the dish, but when it was ready her longing for
food was so great, and so savoury was the smell, that she reflected that
what she had already eaten was probably not a whit cleaner; in short, for
once she proved false to her resolution. Eating, she was filled; and the
viands gave her increased strength.
* * * * *
On the 28th of June the caravan reached Erbil, the ancient Arbela, where
Alexander the Great defeated Darius and his Persian host. Next day they
crossed a broad river, on rafts of inflated skins, fastened together with
poles, and covered with reeds, canes, and plank. Rapidly traversing the
shrubless, herbless plains of Mesopotamia, they reached at length the
town of Mosul, the point from which travellers proceed to visit the ruins
of Nineveh.
These have been so carefully explored and ably described by Layard and
the late George Smith, that it is needless to quote Madame Ida Pfeiffer's
superficial observations at any length. According to Strabo, Nineveh was
the greatest city in the Old World--larger even than Babylon; the
circumference of its walls was a three days' journey, and those walls
were defended by fifteen hundred towers. Now all is covered with earth,
and the ranges of hills and mounds that stretch across the wide gray
plain on the bank of the Tigris do but cover the ruins of the vast
Assyrian capital. Mr. Layard began his excavations in 1846, and his
labourers, digging deep into the hills, soon opened up spacious and
stately apartments, the marble walls of which were embellished from top
to bottom with sculptures, revealing a complete panorama of Assyrian
life! Kings with their crowns and sceptres, gods swooping on broad
pinions, warriors equipped with their arms and shields, were there; also
stirring representations of battles and hunting expeditions, of the
storming of fortresses, of triumphal processions; though, unfortunately
for artistic effect, neither proportion, perspective, nor correct drawing
had been observed. The hills are scarcely three times higher than the
men; the fields reach to the clouds; the trees are no taller than the
lotus-flowers; and the heads of men and animals are all alike, and all in
profile. Intermingled with these scenes of ancient civilization are
inscriptions of great interest, in the cuneiform or wedge-shaped
character.
* * * * *
A caravan starting from Mosul for Tabreez, Madame Ida Pfeiffer determined
on joining it, though warned that it would traverse a country containing
not a single European. But, as we have already had abundant evidence,
Madame Pfeiffer knew not what fear was. Nothing could daunt her fixed
purpose. She had made up her mind to go to Persia; and to Persia she
would go. She started with the caravan on the 8th of July, and next day
crossed the hills that intervene between Mesopotamia and Kurdistan. The
latter country has never enjoyed a good reputation among travellers; and
Madame Pfeiffer's experience was not calculated to retrieve its
character. The caravan was crossing a corn-field which had been recently
reaped, when half-a-dozen stalwart Kurds, armed with stout cudgels,
sprang out from their hiding-place among the sheaves, and seizing the
travellers' bridles, poured out upon them what was unmistakably a volley
of oaths and threats. One of the travellers leaped from his steed,
seized his assailant by the throat, and holding a loaded pistol to his
head, indicated his determination of blowing out his brains. The effect
of this resolute conduct was immediate; the robbers desisted from their
attack, and were soon engaged in quite an amicable conversation with
those they had intended to plunder. At last they pointed out a good
place for an encampment, receiving in return a trifling _backshish_,
collected from the whole caravan.
A few days later, the travellers, having started at two in the morning,
entered a magnificent mountain-valley, which had been cloven through the
solid rock by the waters of a copious stream. A narrow stony path
followed the course of the stream upward. The moon shone in unclouded
light; or it would have been difficult even for the well-trained horses
of the caravan to have kept their footing along the dangerous way,
encumbered as it was with fallen masses of rock.
Like chamois, however, they scrambled up the steep mountain-side, and
safely carried their riders round frightful projections and past
dangerous, dizzy precipices. So wild, so romantic was the scene, with
its shifting lights and shadows, its sudden bursts of silvery lustre
where the valley lay open to the moon, and its depths of darkness in many
a winding recess, that even Madame Pfeiffer's uncultured companions were
irresistibly moved by its influence; and as they rode along not a sound
was heard but the clatter of the horses' hoofs, and the fall of rolling
stones into the chasm below. But all at once thick clouds gathered over
the moon, and the gloom became so intense that the travellers could
scarcely discern each one his fellow. The leader continually struck fire
with a flint, that the sparks might afford some slight indication of the
proper course. But this was not enough; and as the horses began to miss
their footing, the only hope of safety consisted in remaining immovable.
With the break of day, however, a gray light spread over the scene, and
the travellers found themselves surrounded by a circle of lofty
mountains, rising one above the other in magnificent gradation, and
superbly dominated by one mighty snow-crowned mass.
The journey was resumed. Soon the travellers became aware of the fact
that the path was sprinkled with spots of blood. At last they came to a
place which was crimsoned by a complete pool; and looking down into the
ravine, they could see two human bodies, one lying scarcely a hundred
feet below them, the other, which had rolled further, half hidden by a
projecting crag. From this scene of murder they gladly hastened.
* * * * *
At a town called Ravandus Madame Pfeiffer rested for some days, making
observations on the manners and customs of the Kurds. She was not
prepossessed in their favour by what she saw: the women are idle,
ignorant, and squalid; the men work as little and rob as much as they
can. Polygamy is practised; and religion is reduced to the performance
of a few formalities. The costume of the wealthier Kurds is purely
Oriental, that of the common people varies from it a little. The men
wear wide linen trousers, and over them a shirt confined by a girdle,
with a sleeveless woollen jacket, made of stuff of only a hand's-breadth
wide, and sewed together. Instead of white trousers, some wear brown,
which are anything but picturesque, and look like sacks with two holes
for the insertion of the feet,--the said feet being encased in boots of
red or yellow leather, with large iron heels; or in shoes of coarse white
wool, adorned with three tassels. The turban is the universal
head-covering.
The women don loose trousers, and red or yellow boots, with iron heels,
like the men; but over all they wear a long blue garment which, if not
tucked up under the girdle, would depend some inches below the ankles. A
large blue shawl descends below the knee. Round their heads they twist
black shawls, turban-wise; or they wear the red fez, with a silk
handkerchief wound about it; and on the top of this, a kind of wreath
made of short black fringe, worn like a diadem, but leaving the forehead
free. The hair falls in narrow braids over the shoulders, and from the
turban droops a heavy silver chain. As a head-dress it is remarkably
attractive; and it is but just to say that it often sets off really
handsome faces, with fine features, and glowing eyes.
[Tartar Caravan: page119.jpg]
* * * * *
In her further wanderings through the wild lands of Persia, our traveller
came to Urumiyeh, on the borders of the salt lake of that name, which in
several physical features closely resembles the Dead Sea. Urumiyeh is a
place of some celebrity, for it gave birth to Zoroaster, the preacher of
a creed of considerable moral purity, which has spread over a great part
of Asia. Entering a more fertile country, she reached Tabreez in safety,
and was once more within the influence of law and order. Tabreez, the
residence of the viceroy, is a handsomely-built town, with numerous silk
and leather manufactories, and is reputed to be one of the chief seats of
Asiatic commerce. Its streets are clean and tolerably broad; in each a
little rivulet is carried underground, with openings at regular intervals
for the purpose of dipping out water. Of the houses the passer-by sees
no more than is seen in any other Oriental town: lofty walls, windowless,
with low entrances; and the fronts always looking in upon the open
courtyards, which bloom with trees and flowers, and usually adjoin a
pleasant garden. Inside, the chambers are usually lofty and spacious,
with rows of windows which seem to form complete walls of glass.
Buildings of public importance there are none; excepting the bazaar,
which covers a considerable area, and is laid out with lofty, broad, and
covered thoroughfares.
The traveller turned her back upon Tabreez on the 11th of August, and in
a carriage drawn by post-horses, and attended by a single servant, set
out for Natschivan. At Arax she crossed the frontier of Asiatic Russia,
the dominions of the "White Tsar," who, in Asia as in Europe, is ever
pressing more and more closely on the "unspeakable Turk." At Natschivan
she joined a caravan which was bound for Tiflis, and the drivers of which
were Tartars. She says of the latter, that they do not live so frugally
as the Arabs. Every evening a savoury pillau was made with good-tasting
fat, frequently with dried grapes or plums. They also partook largely of
fruits.
The caravan wound through the fair and fertile valleys which lie at the
base of Ararat. Of that famous and majestic mountain, which lifts its
white glittering crest of snow some sixteen thousand feet above the sea-
level, our traveller obtained a fine view. Its summit is cloven into two
peaks, and in the space between an old tradition affirms that Noah's ark
landed at the subsidence of the Great Flood.
[Mount Ararat: page123.jpg]
In the neighbourhood of a town called Sidin, Madame Pfeiffer met with a
singular adventure. She was returning from a short walk, when, hearing
the sound of approaching post-horses, she paused for a minute to see the
travellers, and noticed a Russian, seated in an open car, with a Cossack
holding a musket by his side. As soon as the vehicle had passed, she
resumed her course; when, to her astonishment, it suddenly stopped, and
almost at the same moment she felt a fierce grasp on her arms. It was
the Cossack, who endeavoured to drag her to the car. She struggled with
him, and pointing to the caravan, said she belonged to it; but the fellow
put his hand on her mouth, and flung her into the car, where she was
firmly seized by the Russian. Then the Cossack sprang to his seat, and
away they went at a smart gallop. The whole affair was the work of a few
seconds, so that Madame Pfeiffer could scarcely recognize what had
happened. As the man still held her tightly, and kept her mouth covered
up, she was unable to give an alarm. The brave woman, however, retained
her composure, and speedily arrived at the conclusion that her "heroic"
captors had mistaken her for some dangerous spy. Uncovering her mouth,
they began to question her closely; and Madame Pfeiffer understood enough
Russian to tell them her name, native country, and object in travelling.
This did not satisfy them, and they asked for her passport,--which,
however, she could not show them, as it was in her portmanteau.
At length they reached the post-house. Madame Pfeiffer was shown into a
room, at the door of which the Cossack stationed himself with his musket.
She was detained all night; but the next morning, having fetched her
portmanteau, they examined her passport, and were then pleased to dismiss
her--without, however, offering any apology for their shameful treatment
of her. Such are the incivilities to which travellers in the Russian
dominions are too constantly exposed. It is surprising that a powerful
government should condescend to so much petty fear and mean suspicion.
[Odessa: page127.jpg]
From Tiflis our traveller proceeded across Georgia to Redutkali; whence
she made her way to Kertsch, on the shore of the Sea of Azov; and thence
to Sebastopol, destined a few years later to become the scene of an
historic struggle. She afterwards reached Odessa, one of the great
granaries of Europe, situated at the mouth of the Dniester and the
Dnieper. From Odessa to Constantinople the distance by sea is four
hundred and twenty miles. She made but a short stay in the Turkish
capital; and then proceeded by steamer to Smyrna, passing through the
maze of the beautiful isles of Greece; and from Smyrna to Athens. Here
she trod on hallowed ground. Every temple, every ruin, recalled to her
some brave deed of old, or some illustrious name of philosopher, warrior,
statesman, poet, that the world will not willingly let die. A rush of
stirring glorious memories swept over her mind as she gazed on the lofty
summit of the Acropolis, covered with memorials of the ancient art, and
associated with the great events of Athenian history. The Parthenon, or
Temple of Pallas; the Temple of Theseus; that of Olympian Jove; the Tower
of the Winds, or so-called Lantern of Demosthenes; and the Choragic
Monument of Lysicrates,--all these she saw, and wondered at. But they
have been so frequently described, that we may pass them here with this
slight reference.
From Corinth our traveller crossed to Corfu, and from Corfu ascended the
Adriatic to Trieste. A day or two afterwards she was received by her
friends at Vienna,--having accomplished the most extraordinary journey
ever undertaken by a woman, and made the complete circuit of the world.
In the most remarkable scenes, and in the most critical positions, she
had preserved a composure, a calmness of courage, and a simplicity of
conduct, that must always command our admiration.