The following description of the route from England to India was drawn
up by Dr. Buist, of the Bombay Times:
The only way, not many years ago, of reaching India from England, was
by sailing vessels, which, touching at St. Helena or the Cape of Good
Hope, made the voyage in about four months. Now, the journey is
usually performed partly by sea, and partly by land, in from
thirty-five to forty days. This overland journey, as it is called,
admits of variation. Some travel across France to Marseilles, and then
proceed by a steamer to Alexandria; and this is undoubtedly the
quickest way of reaching Egypt, through which it is necessary to pass.
The greater number of travelers, however, prefer proceeding by steamer
from Southampton direct to Alexandria, because this saves much
fatigue, shifting of luggage, and also some expenses.
Having spent a few months in England in the latter part of 1845, it
became necessary for me to decide on returning to my official duties
in Bombay. Of the different modes of making the journey, I preferred
that by steam vessel from Southampton. Occupied till the last moment
with business in London, I did not find it possible to leave town till
the morning of the 3d of December. Packing having been got through
rapidly enough, I found myself on my way to the South-Western Railway
station, at half-past six――an unpleasant time to start on a long
journey, but travelers learn to accommodate themselves to all sorts of
inconveniences. The distance from London to Southampton was traversed
in little more than three hours. I found various friends and
acquaintances about to be my companions on the journey to India, and a
more pleasant and agreeable party than that turned out to be which
left Southampton in the _Tagus_, on the 3d of December, no one need
desire to travel with.
It is sad to witness the parting of relatives with those about to
leave for India; doubly sad to those who know the sickness, the
suffering, the sorrow, and the disappointment too often awaiting the
young who quit home with visions of the East flitting before them in
their brightest hues. The looked-for return――the bright future――the
hopes of happy meetings――all how rarely realised!
We quitted our moorings at three o’clock P. M., and lost sight of
England in the darkness while yet very close to it. We steered down
the Channel during night. Next day the weather was thick, and the land
invisible. The Bay of Biscay, which opens after passing Ushant, has,
by means of steam, been divested of half its terrors.
We sighted Cape Finisterre on the morning of the 7th――the first land
we had seen since leaving Southampton. We continued to make good
progress, though latterly we had had a rough wind and heavy sea to
contend with.
[Illustration: EAST BRANCH ROCKY RIVER.]
[Illustration: WEST BRANCH ROCKY RIVER.]
The vessel, in general, approaches tolerably near to the Cape. The
outlines of the landscape are bold, varied, and beautiful; but a heavy
swell, which commonly rolls in, is apt to interfere with the voyager’s
contemplations.
From this on running down the coast of Portugal, the steamer on most
occasions keeps pretty close in-shore, so that the land is for the
most part visible. The first places of note that present themselves
are Oporto and Vigo Bay. The appearance presented here by the mainland
is exceedingly picturesque. The coast seems rocky and precipitous,
jagged and irregular. There are lighthouses on certain small islands,
and on more than one of the headlands; and white-walled dwellings and
villages everywhere present themselves.
The heights of Torres Vedras, close on shore, present nothing to the
eye that is marvellous or attractive, though rich in the most striking
historical associations. The magnificent pile at Mafra is generally
distinctly visible without the aid of a telescope. It is of enormous
extent, containing a palace, convent, and superb church. The lines of
Byron here recur to remembrance:――
‘The horrid crags, by toppling convent crowned,
The cork-trees hoar that clothe the shaggy steep,
The mountain-moss by scorching skies embrowned,
The sunken glen, whose sunless shrubs must weep,
The tender azure of the unruffled deep,
The orange tints that gild the greenest bough,
The torrents that from cliff to valley leap,
The vine on high, the willow branch below,
Mixed in one mighty scene, with varied beauty glow.’
The ridge, on the highest pinnacle of which the convent of our Lady of
the Rock is situated, is wild, rugged, and precipitous, ascending to
an elevation of about two thousand five hundred feet. A low cliff
skirts the sea-shore, and singular masses, apparently of drift sand,
make their appearance, stretching for some miles along and inland.
A very picturesque appearance is often presented by the fishing-boats
when the breeze is fresh. They have a drag-net attached to the extreme
end of a long outrigger, stretching some thirty or forty feet beyond
the vessel, and hundreds of sea-birds follow the net, with the view,
apparently, of picking up any stray fish they can extract from it.
The Rock of Lisbon, a huge, unshapely, but striking mass, indicates
the approach to the Tagus. The river opens up magnificently from the
sea. The spires and lofty buildings of Lisbon are distinctly visible,
with the vessels at anchor off the quay. Cape Espartelle, a remarkable
headland, with a lighthouse upon its extremity, becomes visible a
little to the south of the debouchure of the Tagus. The cliff is
obliquely stratified, and marked like those of Alum bay, Isle of
Wight. The land now recedes, and is in a considerable measure lost
sight of, till, rounding close in upon cape St. Vincent, the scene of
the celebrated engagement in 1797, the bay of Cadiz is entered. In
crossing this bay, land is for some time lost sight of. It becomes
visible again off cape Trafalgar; but this celebrated headland it was
our misfortune to pass in the dark.
The next place of importance reached by the steamer is Gibraltar,
where we quit the Atlantic ocean, and enter the Mediteranean. The rock
of Gibraltar first comes into view about ten miles off. As the bay is
approached, the suddenness of the change in the color of the water,
from bright deep blue to green, as the soundings decrease at once from
twenty-four to sixteen fathoms, strikes the voyager. The transition is
instantaneous, without any intermediate hue or shading. Rounding the
point Carnero, and breasting Europa point, you find yourself at once
within a beautiful sheltered and spacious recess, some six miles
across and ten in depth, with British men-of-war, steamers, and
merchant-ships of every nation at anchor. The appearance of the rock
of Gibraltar, with respect to its known military strength, generally
disappoints the stranger. The most formidable of the batteries are
either concealed in mysterious galleries in the bosom of the rock
itself, half-way up, or lie so close on the line of the sea, as to be
lost sight of amongst the hulls of the vessels around. The promontory
consists of a vast rock, rising from twelve hundred to fourteen
hundred feet above the sea; it is about three miles in length, and
from one-half to three-quarters of a mile in width, and is joined to
the mainland by a low sandy isthmus, about a mile and a half in
length. On the north side, fronting the isthmus, the rock is almost
perpendicular, the east and south sides are also steep and rugged; but
on the west side it slopes downward to a fine bay, nine miles long by
four and a half miles broad. On this slope lies the town, containing a
mixed population of sixteen thousand, and above rise the principal
ramparts of the rocky fortress, which is generally garrisoned by from
three to four thousand troops. The ordnance consists of more than
seven hundred cannons fit for service.
Gibraltar derives its name from Tarif, a Moorish general, by whom it
was taken from the Spaniards in 711――Gibel Tarif, the Mountain of
Tarif. It remained in the hands of the Moors till the beginning of the
fourteenth century, when it was recovered by the Spaniards. It was
retaken by the Moors in 1333. In 1462 it finally fell into the hands
of the Christians, after having been possessed by their adversaries
for seven hundred and forty-eight years. On the 24th of July, 1704, it
was captured by the English, who fell on it suddenly, and stormed
it――the garrison amounting to no more than one hundred and fifty men,
the batteries mounting one hundred guns. From this time till nearly
the end of the century, numberless attempts to wrest it from them have
been made by the French and Spaniards, but in vain. During the late
war, it seemed to be considered idle to attempt to disturb them.
The town of Algesiras, a place of considerable importance, and
remarkable as that at which the Moors first landed in Spain, lies
across the bay about five and a half miles off, while the village of
St. Roque, at the upper end of the bay, is conspicuous on the slope.
The high blue mountains of Granada fill up the background.
The winter climate of Gibraltar is extremely delightful. In December,
the temperature varies from 60 to 75 degrees, clouds shading the
piercing rays of the sun. In summer, it is occasionally extremely hot,
especially when the wind blows from the African shore. The appearance
presented by Gibraltar, viewed from the harbor, is peculiarly striking
after nightfall. The numberless lights, seen in all their brightness
through the open windows, look as if issuing from apertures admitting
to some bright cave or furnace in the centre of the rock, whose
huge black mass towers on high, the houses in the town being
indistinguishable in the darkness. In summer, the surface of the sea
is occasionally so closely covered with luminous particles, as to seem
sheeted in phosphorus. The slightest ripple increases the intensity of
the light, and the dolphins flash through the water, literally ‘moving
in light of their own making.’ In winter, this in a great measure
disappears, the luminosity being confined to a few bright masses which
sweep by the ship. I have often taken up bucketsful of water brilliant
with luminous particles when stirred, but though I have tried the
experiment in a hundred different ways, I have never been so fortunate
as to get a sight of the zoophyte or animalculæ by which this is given
forth, either with the naked eye or glass.
We landed at Gibraltar at noon, and embarked about five o’clock on the
evening of the 10th. Of this time――of which a good deal was made by
the more active of our passengers――I was unable to avail myself, being
occupied in duties which I could not properly desert. Some of the
party provided themselves with mules, and made an interesting
excursion over the rock. The view of the African shore from Gibraltar
Bay is, towards sunset, peculiarly beautiful――the fortress of Ceuta,
standing out purple and red in the setting sun, in mimic rivalry of
that on the European shore. One huge mass of mountains, of the Atlas
group on the African side, with the Sierras of Andalusia on the
Spanish shore, ‘fill the mind with beauty’ for a long while on leaving
or on approaching Gibraltar.
After staying but a few hours, our gallant vessel was again on her
course. The weather, unfortunately, was not propitious. On leaving
Gibraltar we encountered a heavy gale of wind, which lasted four days.
The wind was westerly, and, as is usual in such circumstances, the
mercury in the barometer kept rising as the gale increased. When at
its height, the column stood at 30.114, and began steadily to descend
as the storm abated. How useful is this instrument to the mariner――how
faithful its prognostications of storm and calm!
Pursuing our way up the Mediterranean, the vessel steers direct for
Malta, by which we approach the African shore. On the 14th we were off
Algiers. The bay and town, with the villas around, were plainly
visible by the naked eye: we were little more than six miles off. The
country adjoining appeared fertile and well-cultivated, and we could
see roads, gardens, and enclosures, with fields and vineyards, all
looking in good condition. Cape Faroe, and the promontory of the Seven
Capes, are jagged, irregular headlands, very distinctly visible. Cape
Bon was another headland which came into sight. We likewise passed
within view of the dreary island of Pantellaria, which is evidently
the huge tumulus of an extinct volcano. It is about thirty-six miles
in circumference, and seems about three thousand feet in height. The
raptured craters and streams of lava are easily traceable, with beds
of loose stones hurled down the mountain’s side during some of its
fiercer explosions. A large mass of cloud, which might readily be
mistaken for the smoke of smouldering fires, almost constantly rests
on the summit of the mountain. There is a considerable town, of the
same name with the island, near the sea-shore on the western slope,
and vineyards and gardens appear scattered about in surprising
abundance. It belongs to the king of Sicily, and is used as a penal
settlement, whither the Sicilian convicts are sent.
Our coal had been so heavily taxed by the storm, which had only now
abated, that we were at one time on the point of making for Tunis. The
wind got round upon us, and it is astonishing how rapidly in these
seas the swell goes down after a gale. Six hours after it had ceased
to blow the waves were nearly smooth, and the speed of the vessel
almost doubled.
We reached Malta at daybreak on the 17th of December, and proceeded to
land with as little delay as possible. Had we come in an opposite
direction, we should have had to perform a troublesome quarantine. The
island of Malta, which now belongs to England, is sixty miles from the
nearest point in Sicily, and two hundred from the African shore. It
attains at one place an elevation of six hundred feet. The climate is
fine and healthy, though hot in summer, and suffers occasionally from
the sirocco, which blows from the south-east, and occurs chiefly in
September. The mean annual temperature is 67 degrees; the variation of
the yearly means from 1820 to 1840 was no more than 3 degrees; the
extreme range during the year is about 24 degrees.
Malta consists entirely of calcareous rocks, with scarcely any soil,
diluvium, or abraded matter. The country has rather an arid
appearance, but it produces grapes in abundance, and other fruits. At
a distance, the view is rendered lively by the great number of
windmills perched on the heights, and employed for grinding corn. The
inhabitants speak a language partly Arabic and partly Italian, the
former predominating.
The port of Malta consists of two splendid harbors, separated from
each other by the narrow promontory called Mount Xiberras. On this
stands the capital, Valetta. Marsamuscetta is the name given to the
western or quarantine harbor; the other is called Valetta, or the
great Harbor. The entrance to this last is guarded on the one side by
the fortress of St. Elmo, on the other by that of Ricasoli, both of
remarkable strength. On Fort St. Elmo is one of the most brilliant
lighthouses in the Mediterranean. The great Harbor runs away into
numerous creeks and inlets. In one of these is the dockyard,
victualling-yard, and arsenal, with a wet-dock just finished, which is
said to have cost the government not much under a million sterling. In
another is the merchant shipping wet-dock and store-yards. A number of
British, American, and French ships of war are commonly at anchor in
the port: one British line-of-battle ship, of the largest size, with
the admiral’s flag on board, being of the number. The vast variety of
forms, and diversity of appointments, of the mercantile vessels,
especially of those from the Levant, present a most picturesque
appearance.
It is seldom the traveler to or from the East can find leisure to
examine the whole of the noble sights in or around Malta. There are
abundance of excellent ‘guide-books,’ of which a supply can at all
times be procured from the admirable library of Mr. Muir, for those
who have leisure and inclination for such things. I shall confine
myself to a short notice of those which, during my brief visit now and
on a former occasion, I was able to examine.
One of the principal objects of attraction is the cathedral of St.
John, the patron of the order of the famed Knights of Malta. It was
built in 1580. Externally, it is a heavy-looking pile. It has a fine
chime of bells, supposed to have been brought from Rhodes, and its
internal decorations are rich and beautiful. The floor is mosaic
marble pavement, chiefly composed of sepulchral monuments of the
knights, whose figures are represented in white marble. The governor
now resides in the palace of the Grand Master; it is a fine spacious
building, well worthy of attention. The most striking object connected
with it is the armory. It contains ten thousand stand of modern
infantry arms, fit for immediate use. The most attractive portions of
its contents are the arms and suits of armor of the middle ages: some
of these are beautifully chased, and inlaid with gold. There is a
singular piece of ordnance, an eight or ten pounder, made of a
moderately strong tube of sheet-copper, covered over with coils of
tarred rope. The gun was really neatly formed, and at first the
singular nature of the material of which it was made was not apparent.
It seems to have been burst in firing. No great wonder that it should.
The library is said, at the time of the expulsion of the knights, to
have contained seventy thousand volumes. There are in the palace
tables, slabs, vases, and ornaments of various kinds, cut from the
marble of Valetta.
The fortifications of Malta are most extensive and intricate; they are
connected with the harbors; and on looking at their powers of defense,
the mind sinks under the conviction that they are impregnable. Fort
St. Elmo, the most massive of these works, contains accommodation for
two thousand men. Few things are more dazzling or trying for the eyes
than the rocks and buildings around Malta harbor; they are of an
intense yellowish-white, without one particle of vegetation to relieve
them. The waters of the harbor are singularly pure, so that the bottom
is distinctly visible to the depth of thirty or forty feet. The
Parlettario is the favorite resort for quarantine-bound passengers. It
is a long narrow room, near the anchorage, divided by a barrier, where
the gold and silver filagree-work, for which Malta is famous, is sold.
Here also are shell cameos, bracelets, and brooches in mosaic, and a
vast variety of bijouterie. The Maltese females are celebrated for the
skill and delicacy with which they embroider in gold and colored
silks, as well as for the beauty of the knit silk gloves, etc., which
they manufacture; and on these a good deal of money is usually
expended in the Parlettario for the benefit of friends at home.
There is a tradition that, from the time of the visit of St. Paul,
Malta has been devoid of serpents or other poisonous reptiles. During
our stay, we had evidence of the baselessness of the tradition――having
seen a snake killed by a soldier on duty close by his sentry-box. It
was about three feet long, of a dingy brown, and had very much the hue
and aspect of the common cobra. We had no means of determining whether
it was poisonous or not. Close by the anchorage were several sentry
stations, and the neat economical penthouse with which the soldier was
protected from the sun, struck me as particularly suitable for India.
It is a light wooden stand, not unlike a music stand in shape, with a
movable board, which can be fixed at any degree of angle, to shelter
the sentinel from the sun. Without such a protection in summer, the
poor soldier would soon be broiled to death.
So many days had been lost in the storm after leaving Gibraltar, that
the time allowed us at Malta was limited to eight hours. We quitted
the shore at four o’clock, and were on board as speedily as possible.
The Oriental Steam Navigation Company had at this time but one vessel
for the Bombay mail, as it is called, which plies constantly betwixt
Malta and Alexandria――the _Iberia_. She is of five hundred tons
burden, with engines of two hundred horse-power; a clever-going,
clean, tidy little ship, with one of the most kind-hearted, attentive,
and obliging captains that can be. And here I may be permitted a few
passing remarks on the _Tagus_ and _Iberia_, in which both my voyages
were performed, belonging to the lighter class of the Oriental Steam
Navigation Company’s ships. The Tagus is a fine powerful vessel, of
nine hundred tons and three hundred horse-power, well kept, and a
stout sea-boat. Nothing can surpass the politeness and attention of
her officers; and the whole attendance has that air of thorough
respectability which imparts so much confidence, and assures so much
comfort, to the passengers――contrasting strikingly in the latter with
the ragamuffianly crew which, on the Suez side, constitutes the
servants in the government steamers. The Oriental Company give high
pay to their servants, so as to make their service eminently
desirable. They keep the establishment always fully employed; the
heaviest punishment that can be inflicted on either seaman or servant
is dismissal, with the assurance that he will never be employed by
them again. The provisioning of the vessel is let out to a provider,
who receives five shillings a-day for each passenger: the officers
have nothing to do with it, but to see that everything is abundant and
of the best.
We had a beautiful run of six days from Malta to Alexandria; our
voyage bringing us within the farther limits of the Mediterranean,
known as the Levant. The time occupied from Southampton to Alexandria
was about twenty days, including stoppages.
EGYPT. The land around Alexandria is so low, that it does not come
into sight till we are quite close to the harbor of Alexandria; but
some time previously, we observe rising, as it were, out of the sea,
the windmills, Pompey’s Pillar, the Lighthouse, and Cleopatra’s
Needle, with several towers and minarets. From the town westward to
the Lake Mareotis, for the space of nearly a mile, the sand hillocks
by the shore are literally covered with windmills. I counted about two
hundred. The turrets are about thirty feet high in all, the length of
the arms about twenty feet, breadth of sail three to three and a half
feet. They have eight vanes each; and as they are set different ways,
and so move in opposite directions in different mills, when tossing
their arms in the wind, they look like a set of sea-monsters sprawling
about on the shore, and striving to regain their native element. They
are all employed in grinding wheat; and though rugged and rude enough
in appearance, are in reality simple and efficient implements. They
employ a single pair of stones, made either of French bhurr or
vesicular lava from Sicily. They have no sifting or bolting apparatus:
the ground wheat is received from the stones in a sack, and the flower
afterwards dressed through a fine gauze sieve by the hand. I visited
several of them, with a view to the introduction of a similar species
of machine into India.
On landing at Alexandria, the traveler now feels that he is fairly out
of Europe. He may have seen a stray and stunted palm-tree or two at
Gibraltar or Malta, with here and there a Turk or Arab in his native
dress: these last, indeed, may be met with in the streets of London.
At Alexandria all the costumes are Oriental, European residents mostly
dressing like Turks. Vast groves of magnificent date-trees, far
surpassing in beauty those to be met with in Western India, stretch
away in all directions. Long strings of camels are employed in
carrying merchandise. The women are all veiled――covered over with that
unsightly blue vestment which conceals the person and the face,
leaving a pair of little holes for the eyes to peep through. Formerly
it was the custom for passengers from the steam-packets to place
themselves on the backs of donkeys, in order to get through the
streets. This is all changed now, and the traveler finds a large and
roomy van ready for his convenience.
The great square of Alexandria, where most of the European inhabitants
reside, has a singularly fine and pleasing appearance, though without
anything of which the architect can boast. The houses are built of
whitish limestone, like Bathstone, only here the walls remain pure as
when erected――taking no tarnish from the weather. In the centre is an
obelisk of the yellowish-white Cairo marble, which surmounts a
fountain. The residences of the consuls around the square are each
surmounted by a flag-staff, on which on gala-days the ensigns of their
respective nations are displayed. The French consul has a
strange-looking corkscrew staircase surrounding his, and leading to a
watch-tower which overlooks the town. Many of the sign boards of the
shopkeepers, especially of the apothecaries, are painted with Greek
characters. Here are situated the principal hotels, and hence diverge
streets to all parts of the town.
Alexandria was originally built in the form of a Madonian mantle, with
its longer side to the sea. At one time it contained a population of
above half a million, of which half were slaves. It boasted of four
thousand palaces, four thousand baths, four hundred theatres or places
of amusement, twelve thousand shops for the sale of vegetables, and
forty thousand tributary Jews. Its public libraries are said to have
contained seven hundred thousand volumes of books. It was accidentally
destroyed by fire during the war with the Romans in Cæsar’s time. Ages
of misrule under Saracens, and latterly under Turks, fell like a
blight on everything in Alexandria, as on everything else in Egypt:
and not until the era of Mehemet Ali, the present vigorous ruler, did
the country show any symptom of revival. Since the beginning of the
present century, the population of Alexandria has increased from seven
thousand to seventy thousand. With its harbor and docks, it now
possesses the appearance of a thriving port.
Vestiges of the ancient splendor of Alexandria are everywhere to be
found. Fragments of richly-sculptured columns, of architraves,
cornices, and other portions of architectural ornament, are to be seen
strewed about in every quarter of the city――broken up for lime or for
paving-stones, and built into the meanest houses. Huge shafts of
granite are continually disclosed, half buried amongst the rubbish or
the sand; and the mounds of ruins are in many cases one mass of
porphyries, granites, verde-anticoes, and marbles, brought from Upper
Egypt or the south of Europe. In the course of a few hours I picked up
some hundred specimens of thirty different varieties of the stones I
have named, which required only a little polishing to restore to them
their lustre. Mosaics, and pieces of ancient glass, are also abundant;
the latter marked by that iridescent semi-metallic hue which indicates
decay through extreme lapse of time. The sights of Alexandria are
Pompey’s Pillar, Cleopatra’s Needle, the Catacombs, the pasha’s
palace, and the battle-field where Abercromby fell; the Lake Mareotis,
of which a distant view usually satisfies the traveler; and the canal.
Pompey’s Pillar stands on an eminence about six hundred yards from the
present walls of the town, close beside the road which leads from the
Rosetta Gate to the Mahmoudyè Canal. The total height of the column is
ninety-eight feet. The shaft, which is a single block of red granite
or syenite, is nine feet eight inches in diameter, and seventy-three
in length. It is now shown to have been erected by Publius, the
prefect of Egypt, in honor of the Emperor Dioclesian. It probably was
only put in its place when it is said to have been erected, forming
most likely a portion of some of the more ancient and noble relics of
Egypt. Cleopatra’s Needles are at the opposite extremity of the town:
they consist of two obelisks, one prostrate and one erect, of the same
material as the column. One is seventy, the other sixty-five feet
high, and about seven feet in diameter at the base. They stood
originally at Heliopolis, and were brought to Alexandria by one of the
Cæsars. Both are covered with hieroglyphics.
The Lake of Mareotis is one of the curiosities of the neighborhood of
Alexandria, and is situated a short way beyond the Rosetta Gate. This
lake, which is about a hundred and fifty miles in circumference, was
originally fresh-water; and being about five or six feet deep, it
answered the purpose of navigation. In consequence of its connexion
with the Nile being cut off, its waters were wholly dried up, or
nearly so; and in this condition it was eighty or ninety years since.
An entire change followed. It is divided from the sea by mounds of
sand, blown up from the shore, and its bottom is several feet lower
than the level of the Mediterranean. Thus exposed to the danger of
submersion, it was resolved, during the siege of Alexandria in 1788,
to let in upon it the waters of the ocean. It was certain to produce a
wide-spread calamity; but when did the demon War stop to consider
results? Four cuts were made, each of six yards in width, and ten
distant from each other. The water rushed in with a fall of six feet.
Two more cuts were finished next day, and the sea finally broke down
the divisions. What a scene of devastation! The sea flowed in for a
week. The calamity was fearful. The sites of three hundred villages
were flooded, and rendered barren for ever. The bank was afterwards
closed up again, and the communication with the sea cut off; but the
basin of the lake being lower than the surface of the sea, and the
Mediterranean here being without tide, there was no means of drawing
off the salt water. It was by degrees in a great measure evaporated by
the sun, leaving a vast expanse of once fertile surface covered with a
dazzling snow-white sheet of salt. In this condition I examined it in
June 1845. The Nile is admitted annually to it at flood, and the lake
then reappears; but the returning dry season only restores the
condition previously existing. Nor does there appear to be any remedy
for this, until the successive depositions of silt from the river
accumulate sufficiently to raise the bottom of the lake to a level
with the sea――an operation only to be effected through some vast and
very indefinite lapse of time. Till then, the salt must always mingle
with the fresh-water silt deposited every year. Could rice or any
grain be grown on it, as in India, which flourishes even on saline
grounds, the process of recovery would of course be greatly
accelerated. The lake formerly communicated by a canal with a port of
Old Alexandria.
In various masses of rock, composed of oölitic limestone, adjacent to
the lake and near the town, are a number of curious catacombs, and
other ancient works of art, including a variety of mosaics. South of
the city are several high mounds, likewise interesting from the relics
of ancient art found imbedded in them. The bricks used for building in
Alexandria are those excavated from the ruins of the ancient city:
they are quarried in abundance in all directions. They are
well-formed, and excellently burnt; and so perfectly cemented
together, that it is often more difficult to break the hardened mortar
than the material it unites. The potter’s wheel of Alexandria is a
singular one: it consists of a spindle about two feet long, turning in
a socket some one and a half feet under the level of the floor, and a
collar about three inches from the upper extremity. The circular disk
on which the ware is thrown is of course above this last. The wheel is
turned at the rate of about two revolutions a second, by a circular
flange some one and a half feet in diameter just above its lower
insertion. The potter sits on the floor, his legs in a small pit below
the wheel, shuffling with his feet on the flange just mentioned, and
so making the wheel revolve. It is certainly the most awkward-looking
implement by much that I have seen for the purpose. Yet the ware
turned out is good, strong, well-shaped, and is afterwards thoroughly
burned in kilns.
Admission to the pasha’s palace may be procured by an order from the
vakeel, or steward. It is a neat, but plain and unpretending building.
The view from it is beautiful. The rooms are handsome, and
well-proportioned and arranged; and the floors, of inlaid
brightly-polished wood, have a very pleasing effect.
Travelers for India usually hurry through Egypt, with the view of not
losing the steamboat, which is ready for them at Suez. But as there
are two steamers a-month, those who have time and money to spare, may
occupy themselves very delightfully in spending a fortnight on the
journey. The conveyance of travelers from Alexandria to Suez is
effected by the pasha, at an expense of £12. This charge includes
everything save liquors and hotel bills of all kinds at Cairo, which
fall on the passenger, and frequently amount to 15s., or £1. All
charges of this class seem in Egypt extortionately high, and are
indeed out of all proportion to tavern bills in Europe. But then it
must be remembered that the whole establishments are permanently
maintained, for the sake of employment, one day in fourteen; that
unless when the passengers are on the way, the innkeepers are wholly
idle. And now the arrangements hurry every one so fast, that they can
only get some half-dozen hours of even the passengers, desiring to
saddle them with the expenses incurred on their account during the
interval when the house is open for the reception of guests, but when
there are no guests to be received. Having arranged matters at the
Transit Office, the traveler is duly informed of the hour when the
vans quit the hotel, and should make the best of his time in the
interval. The vans proceed to the place of embarkation, about two
miles distant, on the Mahmoudyè Canal. The luggage is forwarded
beforehand on camels, a carpet-bag being all that is allowed――it is
all, indeed, that is requisite――for each individual to carry along
with him.
The road to the canal leads through the great square already
described, and on to the Rosetta Gate――an old ragged fragment of the
fortifications of the town. And here, to his astonishment, the
traveler finds that Alexandria is being fortified, after the manner of
Paris, with walls, and bastions, and ditches, and all the other
contrivances of military engineership. The works are being constructed
on the recommendation of the French, and under the superintendence of
French engineers. A quarter of a century in time, and some millions of
money, may be allowed for their completion, the miserable starving
population being taxed for this useless and wanton waste. Passing
onward, the road leads close to the elevation on which stands Pompey’s
Pillar. Not far to the left is the battle-field where Sir Ralph
Abercromby fell.
The Mahmoudyé Canal connects Alexandria with Atfèh, a navigable point
on the Nile. This important public work was begun in 1819, and
completed in little more than six months, having been opened on the
24th of January 1820. It is forty-eight miles in length, ninety feet
across, and about eighteen feet in depth. For a long distance, the
banks of the canal are ornamented on one side by neat villas, with
most beautiful shrubberies and flower-gardens in front of them. The
little kiosks, or summer-seats, consisting in a circle of benches,
shadowed by lofty trees, almost hang over the banks. The canal is
nowhere strait, and passes along a country so perfectly level, that
locks are not required. One only exists at Atfèh. As many as a hundred
and fifty thousand people are said to have been employed in the
excavation of the canal: the inhabitants of all the villages in Lower
Egypt were marched down to the stations respectively assigned to them,
one month’s pay having been advanced to enable them to supply
themselves with provisions. The assemblage of so enormous a multitude,
which would have formed a double line from end to end of the canal,
had they stood as close as possible to each other, was sure to be
productive of fatal results; and accordingly twenty thousand are
understood to have perished on the occasion. Provisions ran scanty,
many fell victims to starvation, and pestilence swept many more away.
Two-thirds of them were without tools or clothing of any kind
whatever, groping up the mud, and lifting it out with their hands. The
last portion of this statement appeared to myself incredible, until I
had seen people engaged in cleaning out a portion of an old canal near
the Lake Mareotis. They dug with their hands into the soft mud, until
a portion about a cubic foot in size was detached; this was passed on
to the nearest workman, and so conveyed by others to the bank. Not one
vestige of implement or attire was possessed, or apparently desired by
them.
The banks of the canal are sufficiently high to intercept the view of
the adjoining country, so that, after passing the villas already
alluded to, there is really nothing to be seen. A good sailing-boat
traversed the distance in eight hours; one, tugged by horses, in ten.
A small high-pressure steamer is presently employed, which goes snort,
snorting along at the rate of about five miles an hour. The boats
containing the passengers and luggage are towed behind. We started at
half-past six, and were no less than eleven hours on the canal,
reaching Atfèh on the Nile at half-past five. It has always been my
fortune to pass this filthy little village late at night, or early in
the morning, so as scarcely to be able to see it, and the matter did
not seem entitled to excite much regret. On reaching the Nile, the
traveler finds a neatly-kept and commodious steamer awaiting him――not
very roomy, but such as passengers, if not numbering more than fifty,
may put up with without much discomfort. In going up the Nile, several
large works for assisting the irrigation of the country are passed.
One who has examined the magnificent specimens of grain now grown in
England, is exceedingly disappointed on examining that for which
Egypt, for thirty centuries, has been famous. I collected many
specimens in 1840: it is exceedingly prolific on the root, but not
more so than grain at home thinly sown on rich soil. The stalks of the
barley are seldom above eighteen or twenty inches long; each root
produces from six to twenty-five stems, fifteen being about the
average. There are six rows of grains or pickles on each stalk, each
row containing at an average about ten grains, so that the return from
the seed in from six to nine hundred. The roots are from six to
fourteen inches from each other, and I do not believe that an acre of
land in Egypt will yield nearly so much grain, by measure or weight,
as a similar surface in England――both under present cultivation. The
barley itself, when rubbed out, would have been little short of
unsaleable in average season at home, so thin, husky, and poor it was.
It is trampled out of the straw by oxen, and cleared of chaff by the
wind. The straw is chopped or cut up into what we in India call boosa,
by an implement closely resembling a turnip-sowing harrow, drawn over
it by oxen, each roller being armed with three or four circular
cutters. The crop which most surprises by its abundance is tobacco,
vast fields of which extend in all directions. Nor is it to be
wondered at that the cultivation of this narcotic should rival in
extent that of grain, or roots, or fruits for human food. In Egypt,
every man who can afford it smokes at every hour of the day. The dull
and watery eye, the want of energy and enterprise apparent in all,
tell too plainly how the drug is doing its work. It is sad to see
Englishmen reducing themselves to the level of Turks, as is too often
the case, by the filthy and degrading practice of everlasting smoking.
A singular variety of raft, consisting of a framework of slight
sticks, buoyed up by a vast number of earthen pots, is frequently to
be seen on the Nile. They appear to be chiefly employed in carrying
coarse earthenware down the river.
From the moment of arrival in Egypt, we feel that we are in a country
possessing many relics of the past; but this feeling cannot be said to
exist in perfect force till we approach Cairo, which is the threshold
of all the great marvels of ancient art. Those who have not before
sailed up the Nile, watch for the first appearance of the pyramids.
These become suddenly visible about forty miles below Cairo; and the
cry that they are in sight, renders the spectator almost breathless
with anxiety to discover them. They are seen far across the desert
breaking the western horizon, and seem at this enormous distance
almost as large as when looked at from Cairo. Here the desert sand has
fairly drifted over the fertile soil, and is blown in masses into the
river. The banks of the Nile, indeed, show that this has been an event
of frequent occurrence since silt began to accumulate, alternate beds
of sand and mud being visible all down a section of ten to fifteen
feet of bank. The sand examined through a magnifier, is of a yellowish
smoke color, sharp and angular, often of a pretty regular cubical
form. It looks like the quartz portions of disintegrated granite,
which it probably is.
The banks of the Nile, which have been hitherto dull and
uninteresting, become exceedingly striking as we approach Boulac,
which is in the vicinity of Cairo. Long lines and groups of trees
skirt the left bank of the river. Amongst some half-dozen of beautiful
acacias, the magnificent golden flowers of the _acacia fistula_ stand
conspicuous. The tree receives its name from the seed-pod being of the
form and size of an ordinary fife: the flower is something like that
of the laburnum, with each branch five or six times the size of those
of the latter tree. Then come the gardens and pleasure-grounds around
the palace of Shoubra. The island of Rhoda, a garden nearly
altogether, divides and half fills up the river in front. The
beautiful weeping-willow of Egypt――most graceful and lovely of its
loveliest of races――is conspicuous everywhere. The long sweeping yards
of the lateen-sailed boats of the Nile, sometimes not less than sixty
feet in length, shoot up by the shore. Just beyond are the large
cotton-mills and other works of the pasha, intruding English
steam-engines, and huge chimney stalks, which, though striking enough
as contrasts, seem here eminently out of place. Sweeping along the
eastern horizon, at a distance of two miles, is the Citadel, with the
vast city and countless minarets of Grand Cairo. On the other or right
side but two objects present themselves to the eye――the desert and the
pyramids: and they are enough.
The voyage up the Nile, extending to 120 miles from Atfèh, occupied
from eighteen to nineteen hours, and was brought to a close at Boulac.
Here travelers disembark, and go to Cairo by vans provided on purpose.
The drive to the city is by no means over a good road; but being
through fields and gardens, the scene is everywhere most rich and
beautiful. ‘All, save the _spirit_ of man is divine;’ saving, it may
be added, his habitations and his fleshly tenements. More wretched
hovels than are the houses, more squalid wretches than are the people,
cannot be conceived. Crossing various canals and gardens, and
threading some beautiful avenues of trees, the traveler at length
reaches the great square of Grand Cairo, and the picture presented is
sufficiently striking. There is nothing in the way of building which
deserves the name of fine architecture; but the houses are lofty and
picturesque, and of every conceivable shape and size――tall graceful
minarets shooting up in all directions. The Hotel d’Orient the
principal one in Cairo, is in the great square, and is a large and
very showy building, though the establishment and style of living is
somewhat too French for an Englishman’s taste. There is an excellent,
though less conspicuous, English tavern close by. The area enclosed by
the great square is surrounded by a very wide and deep ditch, which is
filled with water during the inundation: fine rows of acacia-trees
skirt it on both sides, and form a double avenue along the road which
intersects it. Vast crowds of people are at all times in the
neighborhood, and here almost alone in Cairo there is abundant room
for observing the passers-by. It is indeed almost the only open space
in this vast city, the thoroughfares of which consist of narrow lanes,
hardly anywhere deserving the name of streets. The houses are so high,
and the balconies above project so far, that it is often difficult to
obtain a glimpse of the sky above. They are almost everywhere crowded
most densely with people. Nimble donkeys, with jingling bells, trot
rapidly along, threading their way with extraordinary dexterity
through the multitude. Lines of huge camels, with vast burdens on
their sides, bear down upon you, threatening to close up the pathway,
and arrest the progress of the living current. Contrasted with all
this activity and bustle, is the profound composure of the
shopkeepers, who, in the richest dresses, and with long flowing
beards, recline beside their wares, smoking their hookas, or long
cherry-stalked, amber-mouthed pipes, as in a state of the most
apathetic unconcern. I have rarely seen so large a proportion of
fine-looking men as are to be found thus occupied in many of the
bazaars.
We reached Cairo at eight o’clock in the morning, and were told that
the first set of vans would set off for Suez at eleven, and the last
at four o’clock in the afternoon. To those who propose going forward,
there is little time to spare. Some of our party, however, who were
active, were able to traverse the city, to inspect the palace of the
pasha, and to enjoy the magnificent view from the battlements of the
Citadel. They also had a little time to spend on shopping at the silk
embroidery and perfumery bazaars, and to purchase some memorials of
their stay; to visit the reading-rooms and museum of the Egyptian
Society――the valuable collection of Dr. Abbot being one of the richest
and most interesting in Egypt.
Cairo is said to contain a population of two hundred thousand
inhabitants: it stands on a plateau about forty feet above the level
of the Nile, and on the edge of the Desert. The Citadel is one of the
most prominent objects of attraction, and can be examined however
short almost may be the traveler’s stay. It was built about the year
1171, by the Caliph Yoosef Saláh-è-deen, well known in the history of
the Crusaders as ‘the Magnificent Saladin.’ A long ride through
narrow, crowded, and irregular lanes, past numerous mosque of great
magnitude and beauty, leads to the bottom of the steep winding ascent,
at the extremity of which is the gate of the fortress. The first
object of attraction which it contains is a magnificent mosque, which
has now been ten years in process of construction. It is still
incomplete. It consist of an open square, surrounded by a single row
of thirty-five columns. In the centre of this is a superb fountain,
and on the east a lofty gate leads to the inner part of the house of
prayer. I do not know to what variety of architecture the building can
be referred. I cannot concur with Sir Gardiner Wilkinson, that its
attractions are due more to the beauty of the material of which it is
constructed than to the skill displayed in the structure itself. To me
it seemed in this latter respect supremely beautiful; not the less so
because of the extent to which it departed from anything known to us
of Greek, Roman, Gothic, or even of Indian art. The extreme richness
of its decorations partake nothing of tediousness――they are all
symmetrical, tasteful, and beautiful. I do not even know that the
effect is heightened by the burnished brass mouldings which surrounded
the base of the capital and top of the basement of the column, though
this sort of combination of metal and stone is one of the most unusual
in masonry. The walls, which consist of the common building-stone of
Cairo, are everywhere crusted over with a yellowish-white variegated
horny-colored marble. It is brought from a considerable way across the
country, having been discovered some fourteen years since at a place
called Wadee Moähut, about seventy miles from the Nile, and is a
travertine, or fresh-water limestone, deposited from springs. The
undulations and coatings of the deposit form beautiful markings in the
marble; it is unfortunately not susceptible of a very high polish, and
is often defaced by small angular crevices, which, however, cease to
be observable a few yards off. It is brought in large blocks from the
quarry, and sawn into slices beside the building. The magnificent
granite columns which formerly surrounded Joseph’s Hall are lying
prostrate around. They were pulled down in 1827, to make room for the
mosque, and were in all likelihood originally the fragments of some of
the noble works of Egypt’s splendor in its earlier days. They are of
the same material as that of which Pompey’s Pillar and Cleopatra’s
Needle are composed. Just beyond the mosque is the palace and harem of
the pasha――a neat, plain building, more richly than tastefully fitted
up and furnished within, but quite worthy of examination. The Mint is
beyond this; and near by is Joseph’s Well, an excavation two hundred
and sixty feet in depth, a winding staircase leading to the bottom.
The reader must be reminded that the Joseph here referred to is not
the Hebrew patriarch, though commonly imagined to be such, but the
famous Sultan Saladin, by whom the works were constructed.
From the palace garden may be seen the spot where Emir Bey leaped his
horse over the wall, to escape the massacre which awaited his brother
Mamelukes on the 1st of March 1811. Mohammed Ali had prepared an
expedition into Arabia, to chastise the Wahabees, who had robbed and
murdered the pilgrims on their way to Mecca. The Mamelukes, impatient
of his curtailment of their power, resolved to avenge and liberate
themselves by the overthrow of his government. Their secret was badly
kept, and the pasha was informed of the plot hatching against him. He
pretended to disbelieve it altogether, and treated it as a slander
against the Mamelukes. His preparations being completed, he invited
all his courtiers and chiefs to the Citadel, to be present at the
investiture of his son with authority to be exercised during his
absence. The beys of the Mamelukes were received with the usual
courtesy; but on their retirement, found the gates shut against them,
while volleys of musketry were poured in on them from every side.
Horses and riders fell in heaps. It is said that four hundred and
forty were slaughtered in the court, Emir Bey alone escaping. He
remembered that a heap of rubbish thrown over the wall, had
accumulated to a considerable height near its base. He leaped his
horse over: the animal was dashed to pieces, but the rider escaped. He
found shelter in the tents of some soldiers near, and succeeded in
making his way to Constantinople. He survived till within these few
years. The beautiful aqueduct seen from the Citadel was originally
built by Saladin the Magnificent in 1171, for the purpose of bringing
water from the Nile to supply the garrison: it was renewed and
enlarged in 1518.
Before requesting the reader to accompany me on the route eastward to
Suez, I shall pause to describe some things which I visited and felt
interested in on the occasion of my previous visit to Cairo.
THE NILE――PYRAMIDS. Egypt, as is well known, consists of the fertile
valley of the Nile, and a strip of desert on each side. The Nile,
formed by streams coming out of Abyssinia on the south, is about 1500
miles in length; at certain places it forms rapids, or sloping
cataracts, and at other points encloses islands, interesting for their
beauty or the ruins which remain upon them. The remarkable phenomenon
connected with the Nile, is its annual overflow of the banks which
border it――an event looked for with as much certainty as the daily
rising of the sun. These inundations of the Nile are owing to the
periodical rains which fall between the tropics. They begin in March,
but have no effect upon the river until three months later. Towards
the end of June it begins to rise, and continues rising at the rate of
about four inches a-day, until the end of September, when it falls for
about the same period of time. The towns are generally built in such a
situation and manner as not to be overflowed by the inundation, and in
some parts of the country there are long raised causeways, upon which
the people may travel during the floods. It is only in cases of an
extraordinary rise that any villages are destroyed. The inundations,
instead of being viewed as a calamity, are considered a blessing, for
they are the cause of inexhaustible fertility. After the waters have
subsided, the earth is found covered with mud, which has been left
there by the river. This mud, which is principally composed of
argillaceous earth and carbonate of lime, serves to fertilize the
overflowed land, and is used for manure for such places as are not
sufficiently saturated by the river; it is also formed into bricks,
and various vessels for domestic use. The whole valley of the Nile may
be considered as an alluvial plain, formed of the washed-down mud and
sand of Central Africa, and it is therefore to these inundations that
Egypt owes its existence.
Notwithstanding the overflow of the Nile, the atmosphere of Egypt is
extremely dry and healthful. During our winter, the climate of Egypt
is delightful. The inhabitants speak with intense affection of the
Nile, for to it they owe the verdure of their fields, their food,
their drink, and the cotton for their clothing. In its taste the water
is delicious and salubrious.
The Pyramids are situated about ten miles from Cairo, in a western
direction, and consequently on the farther side of the Nile. The
traveler may now have the benefit of a carriage for the journey:
formely, the only conveyance was by donkeys. The road leads by Old
Cairo, a decayed suburb of Cairo, at two miles’ distance, on the banks
of the river. The Nile is forded or crossed in boats at the upper end
of the island of Rhoda. When within a couple of miles of the end of
the journey, a number of frightful-looking Bedouins commonly make a
rush from a large village a little way off, as if intent on mischief.
They are men anxious to be employed as guides; and they had better be
employed at once, to save further annoyance.
The Pyramids scarcely appear to increase in size until you are close
up to their base; then their bulk seems enormous, and the distance
betwixt one and the other looks like a forenoon’s journey. They are
four in number in one view――three large, and one small――and are
usually known as the Pyramids of Gizeh. They stand on a plateau some
forty feet above the plain, and are fairly within the Desert. I do not
believe any one who has not visited them has a correct idea of their
vast dimensions. The present base of the Great Pyramid of Cheops, as
it is called, is 746 feet each way; the mass is estimated at
eighty-five millions of cubic feet, and covers an area of eleven
acres. Measured by the slope, its height is 611 feet, and its
perpendicular height is 461 feet, being 117 feet higher than St.
Paul’s, London. The age of the Pyramids is unknown, but it cannot be
less than three thousand years. And what a waste of human labor in
their construction! A hundred thousand men, changed every three
months, for twenty years, are said by the Greek writers to have been
occupied in their erection!
At a distance, the Pyramids appear to be tolerably smooth and
pyramidal; but on coming close to them, they are found to have a
ragged and half-ruined aspect, in consequence of the outer coating of
stones and plaster having been removed. Their sides in this rough
state present the appearance of a series of steps, composed of huge
blocks of yellowish-white limestone. The ascent is toilsome, but I
made a point of reaching the top of the Great Pyramid. The ledges of
stone are uncomfortably high for a stair; and ladies meaning to
ascend, should provide themselves with a footstool, which the guides
could lift and hand up to them at each step. There are altogether 206
tiers of stone, from one to four feet high. At length we reached the
top, which is an irregular platform, thirty-two feet square; the
stones constituting the apex having been thrown down. On gaining this
lofty eminence, on which there was room to move about, I felt an
extraordinary exhilaration of spirits, not only from the effect of
historical associations, but from the remarkable fineness of the
atmosphere. The view on all sides was magnificent. One of its most
striking features is the distinctness of the line which divides the
fertile region from the Desert. There is no middle ground――no
debateable land, over which fertility and desolation, the sand of
Sahara and the silt of the Nile, alternately hold sway. So far as the
influence of the Nile extends, all is verdure; the moment the sand
begins, utter waste ensues.
Having satisfied our curiosity, the party descended; but all found
that coming down was a vast deal more fatiguing and dangerous than
going up. However, we got to the bottom in safety; and being pretty
well appetized, we adjourned to luncheon in a sort of cave close by,
where victuals we had brought with us were enjoyed. It is necessary to
make this provision for refreshment, because there is no house, tent,
or village in the neighborhood. The Great Pyramid is not entirely
solid. An entrance has been made, by which a series of labyrinthian
passages and chambers have been discovered. The entrance is on the
north side; but we did not feel inclined to enter; for the journey in
some places requires to be performed on hands and knees. At the centre
are two chambers of red granite, in one of which is a sarcophagus; and
here is supposed to have slept one of the great rulers of the earth,
the king of what was the greatest kingdom of the earth, the proud
mortal for whom this mighty structure was raised.
The ascent of the second Pyramid is seldom attempted by visitors: it
is much more difficult than that of the first, especially over that
portion of the smooth granite crust which still remains about thirty
feet down. It is of somewhat less magnitude than the other, but looks
as large, from standing on higher ground. The third of the group is
considerably smaller. The fourth I did not visit. In the neighborhood
of these grand objects of antiquity lie scattered about many
interesting remains. The most attractive of these is the Sphinx――a
gigantic figure, half-woman, half-lion, nearly all hewn from the solid
rock, the fore-legs and part of the back only being built. There is an
altar between the two paws, on which sacrifices appear to have been
offered. From the lower part of the body to the top of the head, the
Sphinx measures 66 feet, the recumbent portion 102, the paws 50, and
the circumference of the head 100 feet. Such has been the drifting of
the sands, that the whole figure is now covered except the head and a
portion of the dilapidated neck.
A few miles above the Pyramids of Gizeh once stood Memphis, a city as
large and flourishing as Alexandria, but now utterly destroyed, and
the very ruins hardly distinguishable. Continuing the journey up the
valley of the Nile, and within the distance of two hundred miles, the
traveler passes the ruins of many decayed cities, now reduced to
miserable villages of half-starving Arabs, but once the glory of
Egypt. Among these are Arsinöe, Dendera, Thebes, Karnac, Edfou,
Elephantina, and Philöe. Edfou is thus described by Mr. Stephens:――‘At
one corner of this miserable place stands one of the magnificent
temples of the Nile. The propylon (or gateway), its lofty proportions
enlarged by the light of the moon, was the most grand and imposing
portal I saw in Egypt. From a base of nearly 100 feet in length, and
30 in breadth, it rises on each side of the gate in the form of a
truncated pyramid, to the height of 100 feet, gradually narrowing,
till at the top it measures 75 feet in length and 18 in breadth.
Judge, then, what was the temple to which this formed merely the
entrance; and this was far from being one of the large temples of
Egypt. It measured, however, 440 feet in length and 220 in breadth,
about equal to the whole space occupied by St. Paul’s Churchyard. Its
dromos, pronaos, columns, and capitals, all correspond; and enclosing
it is a high wall, still in a state of perfect preservation. I walked
round it twice, and, by means of the wall erected to exclude the
unhallowed gaze of the stranger, I looked down upon the interior of
the temple. Built by the Egyptians for the highest uses to which a
building could be dedicated――for the worship of their gods――it is now
used by the pasha as a granary and storehouse.’
Few travelers proceed farther up the Nile than Philöe, as the journey
through Nubia is less safe or agreeable than that within the Egyptian
territory. Yet without a visit to the Nubian valley of the Nile, which
extends to near the head branches of the river in Abyssinia, much of
the ancient grandeur of this part of the world will remain unexplored.
Nubia, which is at present a Turkish province, subject to the pasha of
Egypt, is frequently called by the name Ethiopia――from the black
complexion of whose inhabitants the term Ethiopian came in early times
to signify one who is black, or a negro. This country of Nubia, or
Ethiopia, is understood by some historians to have enjoyed a degree of
civilization and refinement in art at a date even earlier than Egypt;
and till the present day, it possesses pyramids and other monuments of
architectural skill as wonderful, in the eyes of the traveler, as
those in the lower divisions of the Nile.
So much for a glance at the archaeological treasures of Egypt; let us
now return to Cairo, in order to undertake an excursion which has been
seldom performed.
THE PETRIFIED FOREST. This extraordinary curiosity is situated eight
or ten miles south from Cairo, and is reached by a journey on the back
of a donkey through a rugged piece of country. The ground over which
you travel is a dry gravely soil, without a particle of vegetation.
Having proceeded for some miles through a rocky valley, a sudden turn
to the right takes you through a low range of sand-hills, and in less
than a quarter of an hour you arrive at the forest. And such a forest!
Trees lying prone on the ground, and transferred into stone. The world
contains nothing so wonderful as a work of nature. On every side the
prostrate forest extends as far as the eye can reach. Plains and
rolling hillocks of sand sweep on and on to the horizon, all strewed
thickly over with fragments of fallen trees. They lie at some places
so close to each other, that a sure-footed Cairo donkey can scarcely
thread his way through them: at other places they are few and far
between, scarcely within stone-throw of each other, as if those had
been the thickets, these the openings, in the forest. The trees are
nowhere round in the surface, but sharp and angular, as if split by
heat into many fragments. Few pieces are more than from four to six
feet in length; but a series of these may often be seen lying end to
end for a space of from fifty to sixty feet, as if the tree they
constituted had been sawn or broken across, the pieces remaining in
their places. The aspect of the fallen trunks is like that of the half
rotten bog-wood found in an Irish or a Scottish morass. In hue, they
are for the most part of a lightish chesnut-brown; some of them of a
dusky-white, precisely of the color of common ash or pine long exposed
to the weather. Of this tint are nearly all the smaller fragments,
which often lie about as if chipped off from the larger ones. There
are no fangs of roots or branches connected with the stems, but there
are the rudiments of both in abundance. The knots indicating where
branches once had been, are often of singular beauty and distinctness;
sometimes so much so, as to seem fresh torn off the stem. The whole
scene is the very picture of solitude and desolation, enhanced beyond
that of the ordinary Desert――which leaves no token of ever having been
more productive than it is――inasmuch as the remains around remind you
that what is now salt and barrenness must once have been fertility and
verdure. The trees, as already said, are mostly on the surface; many
of them, however, are half-buried, others barely show themselves above
the sand. The sand itself is light colored; the nodules of stone
intermixed with it are rounded; sea-shells everywhere abounding. Near
the edge of the forest there are what resemble the dry beds of
small-sized streams and torrents: here the little cliffs displayed are
of very soft limestone, full of oyster-shells, so fresh and bright,
that they seem scarcely at all affected by the weather. They are of
the transparent kind, nearly flat, and scarcely thicker than common
paper. Selenite here abounds, as generally over the Desert, where
sea-salt prevails. It is here for the most part fibrous, the fibers
being horizontal, and at right angles to the axes of the vein. I took
nearly half a ton of specimens home with me; and these, like the whole
of the rest of my collection, were carried free of charge both by the
Egyptian Transit and Steam Navigation Company. They were afterwards
distributed amongst various of our public museums.
As for the nature of the trees, they are not palms, as their branches
show; nor am I aware that there is any living race nearly kindred to
them. They are completely silicified, ring like cast-iron, strike fire
with flint, and scratch glass. How has this transformation been
effected? By no chemical process now known to man. We have nothing at
all analogous to it either in the laboratory of the chemist or that of
nature. There is no substance more indestructible than charcoal. Cut
off from air, it resists the most intense heats known to us, and
remains in the bowels of the earth unscathed for millions of years!
Here the whole woody and carbonaceous matter has vanished, and its
place we find silica――the earth of flints, a substance nearly
insoluble, and by itself infusible by any heat we are acquainted with.
Yet so quietly and perfectly has the exchange been effected, that for
every atom of charcoal that has been displaced, an atom of flint has
been left behind. Textures and tissues so minute, that the help of
microscopes is required for their detection――that their delineation
can only be attempted after they have been much magnified――are changed
in substance, but in substance only: the most minute and fragile of
their forms remain as when the green leaves and bright blossoms drew
their sustenance, and the vital fluids circulated through them. Egypt
is the land of hoar antiquity; but what are the wonders of the
mummy-case to this? The trees look as if they had fallen down, and
been turned to stone on the ground where they grew; they look ‘like to
a forest felled by mighty winds;’ they bear no marks of rolling or
abrasion, such as that by which flints themselves are rounded. Yet all
is sea-sand and shells everywhere; there is nothing to sustain
vegetation; and whether the theory that they belong to an age previous
to that of the rock in which they are occasionally imbedded, be
adopted or not, it is clear that, subsequent to their assumption of
their present form and condition, the ground on which they now repose
sunk beneath, and rose again far above, the surface of the sea.
It is singular, considering the extent of area, and the diversity of
positions in the world over which silicified trees are found exposed
above ground, that so little has been written on the subject. In
Trinidad, in the West Indies, they are abundant; and they prevail over
a vast expanse of surface on the seaboard of New Holland. They abound
on the Coromandel coast near Madras; and in Scinde are found from
Sukkur to Kurrachee, on salt desert sand, resting on nummulite
limestone, exactly as in Egypt.
CAIRO TO SUEZ. It has been already stated that our party arrived at
Cairo on the morning of the 23d of December. Only a few hours is
allowed, and every one should make his arrangements without
unnecessary delay. Having arranged at the Transit Office to get all
luggage, a small bag excepted, sent forward, and secured his place,
the traveler may be considered ready to start. The conveyance to Suez
is by vans, which start in detachments at specified hours. In hot
weather, it is preferable to start from Cairo in the afternoon, so as
to travel all night. By this plan he arrives at the centre
sleeping-station in the morning, and after a few hours’ repose, he can
again proceed, so as to reach Suez early in the following morning.
Some go on direct; others stop.
The distance from Cairo to Suez is eighty-five or eighty-six miles;
and as the line of route is without any towns or villages,
station-houses have been erected for the accommodation of travelers,
and for changing of horses. There are altogether seven station-houses,
of which No. 4 from Cairo is the most commodious. Refreshments are
furnished at three of the stations, and they are usually of the most
sumptuous kind. The vans are of different sizes. For the greater part
they are strong clumsy machines, open all around, tolerably stuffed,
but without springs――merely suspended on leathern straps. They have
two wheels about five feet in diameter; that is, one-third larger than
those of a common carriage. They are drawn by four horses, two being
in shafts, and two before them in traces. They are, in general, not
over-well trained, tempered, or conditioned; but really, on the whole,
get on wonderfully well. The plan of the drivers generally is to urge
them a good gallop for a mile or so, and then allow them a few minutes
to rest. Including twelve hours’ repose by the way, the journey from
Cairo to Suez is performed in thirty-two to thirty-six hours.
There is but little of the Suez desert covered with drift sand; it
consists mainly of hard gravel, with a vast abundance of loose stones
in all directions. The vans seldom adhere very regularly to any
particular track, and the jolting is occasionally dreadful. In the
direction of Suez, as indeed in most other directions, unless when
approaching the Nile, you enter on the Desert at once. The
burying-ground around the city is all in sand; and the first step
beyond this, the ground is as completely barren and desolate as it can
be in the heart of the Great Sahara itself. The route through might be
almost traced by the skeletons and bones of camels to be seen all a
long; thousands and thousands lie bleaching by the wayside. The
surface of the ground is salt, and covered with rounded pebbles,
chiefly the Egyptian agate, and sea-shells. Pieces of petrified wood,
often of considerable magnitude, lie strewed around: and when the
limestone rock shows itself above the sand and gravel, it is generally
perforated by the _pholas_, or some other variety of marine borer. The
rocks, like those near Cairo, abound in petrifactions――beautiful
specimens of crabs and stars-fishes being amongst the most abundant.
Little nimble fairy-looking lizards, in color very like the surface of
the ground around them, are occasionally to be seen in the Desert;
also a curious variety of serpent, with two horn-like processes
protruding from the forehead. There are numberless vultures and
carrion crows, which feed on the dead carcases of the animals who so
frequently perish on the way across. Besides these, scarcely a living
thing is to be seen. Here and there are considerable quantities of the
poisonous henbane, and half-way betwixt Suez and Cairo numerous bushes
of the prickly acacia or camelthorn. Just beyond the centre station is
what is called ‘the tree of the Desert;’ solitary acacia, about one
and a half feet in diameter, and ten feet length of stem, with a large
thick bushy round top. This is seen at a vast distance from each side:
to the weary wayworn traveler it seems almost impossible to approach
it, he riding for hours after first catching sight of it without
apparently coming nearer it.
The beautiful phenomenon known to sailors as ‘looming,’ to naturalists
as _mirage_, equally visible in extremely cold as in warm countries,
is often seen in great perfection betwixt Cairo and Suez. It is
occasioned by the unequal temperature and refractive powers of
different strata of the atmosphere――objects being invariably elongated
or depressed, or a succession of images of them exhibited one over
another. Scoresby gives drawings of images of ships and icebergs being
seen by him in the arctic regions――direct or reversed, or the one and
the other alternately――high up in the air. Pools, and lakes of water,
are occasionally seen to fill up the hollows or valleys; and this is
the shape the illusion most frequently assumes. Three of us together
once saw so perfect a picture of a pool surrounded by lofty rocks and
hills, by which there were two tall men in black fishing, that, but
for the fact that we had traversed the ground before, and knew that
there was no such thing in existence, no reasoning short of that which
induced us to refuse the testimony of ourselves could have persuaded
us that it was all deception. The fishers turned out to be a couple of
crows, the rocks and trees a few stones and shrubs――not half so many
inches in reality as they seemed feet in altitude. On another
occasion, the low hillocks to the south of the centre station rose
into stupendous cliffs――a noble river cleft its way through a chasm by
which they were disrupted, and was received in a finely-wooded lake at
their base. It seemed some three or four miles off――the whole was
occasioned by the distortion of objects not two hundred yards away. So
constantly had we witnessed these exhibitions in April 1840, that the
Red Sea was visible for nearly an hour before we believed it to be
other than an illusion: the sight of ships and steamers was the first
thing that convinced us of the reality.
The portion of the road nearest to Suez is extremely rough, and the
path is covered on every side with large rounded stones; the whole
forming one of the most unsightly portions of the Desert. Barren and
arid as it is, it is curious to find fresh plants of the water-melon
species growing here and there on the most unfruitful-looking spots.
The leaves are about the tint, form, and size of those of the
sweet-scented geranium. The stems trail along the ground, attaining a
length of two or three feet. The fruit is about the size of a smallish
apple, bright-green, and very pretty. In many places here, the sand of
the Desert is in process of solidification into rock. The muriates and
sulphates of the sea-salt, with which the soil is charged, seem to act
on the calcareous material abounding everywhere; and the result is a
carbonate of soda and sulphate of lime. The last constitutes the
cementing material: it is bright and shining, in small plates or
crystals, and yields readily to the finger-nail. A specimen of the
rock which is the result of this, would most grievously perplex a
geologist not familiar with the process by which it is formed. It
consists of the sand and the sea-shells of the Desert――the last of
these, when near Suez, being all apparently perfectly recent and
identical with those now in the Red Sea; of the Egyptian jaspers,
which here mainly constitute the gravel of the Desert, and are
themselves the remnants of an abraded conglomerate of one of the rock
formations at hand, and of the oyster, nummulite, and other shells of
the different varieties of tertiary limestone, everywhere presenting
itself above the surrounding drift and alluvium. With these
heterogeneous materials, the bones of birds and animals now existing
in the country, or portions of the works of man, may occasionally
mingle, and present a conglomerate made up of as many different kinds
of material as can be collected together. This, it must be
recollected, is a process not confined to a few limited spots: it is
apparently in progress over vast expanses of surface in all parts of
the Desert towards the shore of the Red Sea. Though there is no
continuous rain, heavy showers occasionally fall near Suez; and in the
pools formed by them, fishes, some inches long, have been found four
or five miles from the sea.
When within four miles of Suez, you reach the edge of a perfectly
level plain, diversified here and there by slight ridges and hillocks
of sand and gravel, but the whole wearing the appearance of one of the
most recent upheavals――the Red Sea, at a geological period
comparatively recent, having obviously covered a large surface now dry
land. It was noon before we reached Suez, and we were to leave at
three; but as I had been before disappointed in my attempts to examine
the country around, I was resolved to make the most of the two hours
at my disposal. I accordingly, hammer in hand, and knapsack on back,
proceeded to make a geological ramble; and I need only say, was amply
repaid for my trouble, as well as for the annoyance from a scorching
sun. Close to Suez is the track where the Israelites crossed the Red
Sea in flying into the wilderness from Egyptian bondage. Wilkinson
assumes the place to have been a little above the harbor, at the camel
ford, where the water then must have been much deeper than now, and
where the effects of ‘a strong east wind,’ as described in Exodus, are
now similar to what they seem to have been from the account given of
them in Holy Writ. The extremity of the Red Sea is a few miles above
the town, and thither travelers sometimes proceed to have the pleasure
of placing one foot on African, the other on Arabian ground.
The entire journey through Egypt from Alexandria to Suez is usually
performed in seventy-two hours; and to afford time for travelers
getting forward, the steamers for India do not start for several hours
later.
SUEZ TO INDIA. Suez is a poor, walled town, situated at the head of
the Red Sea, and sustains its existence principally by the trade of
the great caravans of pilgrims from Egypt in their journey to Mecca.
Latterly, it has come a little into note by being made the point of
embarkation for India. The pasha built a very large and handsome hotel
at Suez, the only decent-looking building in the place. The water here
is all highly saline: it contains a considerable quantity of pure
alkali, and is well adapted for washing――that used by Europeans for
drinking is brought from the Nile. Coal is also transported across the
Desert from Cairo on camels, and here costs £6 a ton.
Quitting Suez, a long pull of nearly two miles through shallows and
intricate channels brings you to the roadstead, where the steamer
waits your reception――the smoking funnel and roaring steam giving note
of a preparation for a start. The Gulf of Suez, which comes to a point
a little way above the town, is about three miles across at the place
from which the steamer starts. The distance from Suez to Aden is
sixteen hundred miles due south-east; that from Aden to Bombay is
nineteen hundred and sixty miles east and by north. Passengers to
Calcutta are accommodated in the magnificent steamers of the Oriental
Steam Navigation Company, each from twelve hundred to fifteen hundred
tons burden, and four hundred to five hundred horse-power. These
vessels proceed straight to Aden, this part of the route being common
to both; then stretch away south-east for Ceylon, nearly at right
angles to the path pursued by the Bombay vessels. The Bombay
passengers are conveyed by the packets or war-steamers of the Indian
navy: a portion of these are from seven hundred to seven hundred and
fifty tons burden, and from two hundred and twenty to two hundred and
fifty horse-power. Two very superior vessels, each of twelve hundred
tons and four hundred horse-power, have lately been put on the line,
and two others of still larger dimensions are now in process of
construction. It was on board the _Acbar_, a first-rate ship,
commanded by one of the most popular officers of the Indian navy, that
we found ourselves on Christmas eve 1845. The traveler towards the
East, who has been dragging by each remove a lengthening chain――who
has found semi-tropical Europe at Gibraltar and Malta, and fairly
tasted of the Orient in Egypt――at length finds a floating fragment of
India before him at Suez. The talk becomes exclusively of Bombay:
inquiries are made after old places and friends, and England is spoken
of as now a distant country, not soon to be seen again. The
regulations as to dress, discipline, etc., are the same in the Indian
as in the royal navy; and the packets are in all respects regarded as
ships of war. To the old Indian, everything looks familiar; to the
visitor for the first time to the East, all seems a fragment and
foretaste of what is to come. Seldom, indeed, do you find so large a
variety of races assembled in so narrow a compass. The officers,
engineers, and regular seamen of the ship are Englishmen, all rigged
out man-of-war fashion. The pilots are Arabs, from Aden or Mocha.
Their costumes are beautifully picturesque and they are for the most
part highly intelligent-looking men. Then you have the sepoys of the
Bombay Marine Battalion, smart, dark-olive complexioned men, in the
common uniform of the English soldier. The servants of the ship are
mostly Portuguese, natives of the East, dressed in jackets and
trousers of white cotton, such as Europeans not in uniform usually
wear in India. The butler and head-servants are generally Parsees or
Mussulmen: the Hindoo is forbidden by his creed from serving where his
hands might be defiled by the flesh of the sacred cow. The firemen are
mostly Mohammedans, or low-caste Hindoos――strong active fellows, who
perform all the drudgery about the engine-room.
Fairly afloat on the Red Sea, there is little to attract the eye, the
shores being rocky, sandy, and lifeless. If the weather be clear, we
see in the distance north from Suez the towering summit of Sinai. As
the traveler proceeds southwards, he begins to be interested in the
changes presented by the firmament. At night the Southern Cross
becomes prominent amongst the constellations, and the beautiful clouds
of Magellan give nubulæ of an aspect altogether different from any he
has seen before. The Great Bear is no longer seen to sweep around the
Pole; the tail becomes at times altogether invisible, the four stars
which constitute the quadrangle only keeping in view, and the great
land-mark, so to speak, by which the tyro astronomer guides his way
amongst the constellations, is for a period lost sight of. The moon
and planets again shine out with unusual splendor; and the phenomena,
new to the European, are presented by a night sky intensely bright
without the sensation of cold being occasioned by it.
The middle channel alone is navigable for vessels of any considerable
burden. Vast margins on either shore are filled up with coral to near
the surface of the water. The scenes these present are often beyond
description beautiful. When we went up in June 1845, the wind blew a
strong breeze against us. Captain Barker, who was engaged in the
survey, knew every channel and island so well, that he often took the
most narrow and intricate, to enable him to keep the lee of some rocky
island, and so shelter his ship from the adverse wind. From the
mast-head, the track through which we navigated was of so deep and
intense a blue, it was hard to believe that the waters were not
colored by some dyeing substance. They looked like the liquid seen
streaming from the dyer’s pot. A few ships’ length on either side,
they suddenly became slightly tinted with green; a little beyond, the
greenish blue became turned into a bluish green; a band of the most
intense emerald green succeeded, and then swept towards the shore; the
last hue the sea assumed, before breakers appeared, was a whitish
green, when the coral was but a few feet beneath the surface. These
colors appeared in well-defined bands――they were not shaded, nor run
into each other, as if produced by the gradual shoaling of the reef,
but seemed the effect of a set of shelves, with precipices of no great
elevation between. The effect of the whole was heightened by the brown
and burnt hue of the rocks and islands which were constantly
appearing, rising suddenly from the surface to an altitude of some
scores or hundreds of feet.
Keeping straight on our course down the middle of the Red Sea, we do
not approach the land till the Straits of Babel-Mandeb make their
appearance. Here the sea is greatly narrowed, not only by the
projections of land, but by the island of Perim. The Straits are
closed in on both sides by rugged, barren, burnt-looking rocks――the
distance across being about three miles. Pushing her way through one
of the channels, the steamer turned towards the left in a
south-easterly direction, being now in what is called the Sea of
Babel-Mandeb, which is a portion of the Indian Ocean. A series of
picturesque and precipitous capes and headlands, along the coast of
Arabia-Felix, on our left, came in view, and stretched away to the
most prominent of them, for which we were steering――Cape Aden.
It was near midnight when we reached Aden, and a portion only of the
passengers landed. The only object of the stoppage is to take in coal.
Aden is situated in latitude 12 degrees 47 minutes north: longitude 45
degrees 9 minutes east. It is a wild, barren peninsula, composed of
volcanic rocks, and of no use except as a half-way house to India
_via_ the Red Sea. Within two hundred yards of the landing-place there
is a hotel, kept by a Parsee. It contains a large roomy hall, in which
smoking is specially forbidden, but always indulged in, with a very
good verandah all round, and good bedrooms, and baths. There is a
store for general merchandise behind, and a billiard-room, likely to
become a common nuisance, close by. I was one of the party who went
ashore to the hotel; but all attempts to sleep were vain, in
consequence of the noise made by members of the party, who chose to
sit up drinking and smoking! As early as three o’clock I arose, and
made a most interesting little excursion to the extinct volcanoes in
the neighborhood, where the garrison is situated. This leads me to
speak of the manner in which the place has become a British
settlement.
Aden fell into our possession in 1839. It previously belonged to the
sultan of Lahege, who was little better than a common marauder, and in
1837 plundered a Madras vessel sailing under British colors, which had
the misfortune to go ashore. A collision with Britain followed; and
finally, after some fighting, and a stipulation by treaty to pay the
sultan a few thousand dollars annually, the place was taken possession
of. The population has since risen from six hundred to above ten
thousand, besides the troops and their followers from India: of these
there are generally three thousand in garrison. A traffic is kept up
with the interior of Arabia by means of camels and asses. There is
good fresh water in wells in the cantonments, but nowhere besides,
which is a sore drawback in the place.
We quitted Aden about three in the afternoon, and after losing sight
of land, saw nothing but the broad ocean, till the high lands on the
south of Bombay made their appearance. In a few hours the vessel
arrived at its destination, and I stood once more on Indian ground,
with well-known faces around me. The journey altogether from
Southampton had occupied from thirty-nine to forty days, which is
about the average allowance of time. My expenses may be set down at
£120. Fortunately, no accident had occurred on the journey; neither,
as is usually the case, was there any interruption in the arrangements
established for the benefit of travelers. All went on smoothly and
agreeably; and every year promises to add new accommodations and new
pleasures to the excursion. Such is the story of what is now a very
unromantic affair――AN OVERLAND JOURNEY TO INDIA.
[Illustration: UPSALA――SWEDEN.]
[1] Some years ago, a traveler, Mr. G. A. Hoskins, visited
the site of this capital state of ancient Ethiopia, an
island, if it may be so called, about 300 miles long,
enclosed within two forking branches of the Nile. He found
in it several distinct groups of magnificent pyramidal
structures. Of one ruin he says――‘Never were my feelings
more ardently excited than in approaching, after so tedious
a journey, to this magnificent necropolis. The appearance of
the pyramids in the distance announced their importance; but
I was gratified beyond my most sanguine expectations when I
found myself in the midst of them. The pyramids of Gizeh are
magnificent, wonderful from their stupendous magnitude; but
for picturesque effect and elegance of architectural design,
I infinitely prefer those of Meroe. I expected to find few
such remains here, and certainly nothing so imposing, so
interesting, as these sepulchres, doubtless of the kings and
queens of Ethiopia. I stood for some time lost in
admiration. This, then, was the necropolis, or city of the
dead! But where was the city itself, Meroe, its temples and
palaces? A large space, about 2000 feet in length, and the
same distance from the river, strewed with burnt brick and
with some fragments of walls, and stones, similar to those
used in the erection of the pyramids, formed, doubtless,
part of that celebrated site. The idea that this is the
exact situation of the city is strengthened by the remark of
Strabo, that the walls of the habitations were built of
bricks. These indicate, without doubt, the site of that
cradle of the arts which distinguish a civilized from a
barbarous society. Of the birthplace of the arts and
sciences, the wild natives of the adjacent villages have
made a miserable burying-place; of the city of the
learned――“its cloud-capt towers,” its “gorgeous palaces,”
its “solemn temples”――there is “left not a rack behind.” The
sepulchres alone of her departed kings have fulfilled their
destination of surviving the habitations which their
philosophy taught them to consider but as inns, and are now
fast mouldering into dust. Scarcely a trace of a palace or a
temple is to be seen.’
[2] When Alexander the Great was in Babylon, the Chaldæans
told him their order had begun their astronomical
observations 400,000 years before he was born.
[3] It may be necessary to remind our readers here that the
annual number of public executions in Howard’s time was
fearfully large.
[4] Of the famous ‘Black Assize’ at Oxford, mentioned in the
text as an instance of the malignity of the jail fever, the
following is the account given by the chronicler
Stowe:――‘The 4th, 5th, and 6th days of July, 1577, were
holden the assizes at Oxford, where was arraigned and
condemned one Rowland Jenkes for his seditious tongue; at
which time there arose such a damp, that almost all were
smothered. Very few escaped that were not taken at that
instant. The jurors died presently. Shortly after died Sir
Robert Bell, lord chief baron; Sir Robert D’Olie, Sir
William Babington, Mr. Weneman, Mr. D’Olie, high sheriff;
Mr. Davers, Mr. Harcourt, Mr. Kirle, Mr. Phetplace, etc.
There died in Oxford three hundred persons; and sickened
there, but died in other places, two hundred and odd, from
the 6th of July to the 12th of August, after which day died
not one of that sickness, for one of them infected not
another, nor any woman or child died thereof.’ An occurrence
so horrible gave rise of course to much speculation at the
time, and various strange explanations were had recourse to,
of which the following will serve as a specimen:――‘Rowland
Jenkes,’ says one anonymous writer, ‘being imprisoned for
treasonable words spoken against the queen, and being a
popish recusant, had notwithstanding, during the time of his
restraint, liberty sometimes to walk abroad with a keeper;
and one day he came to an apothecary and showed him a recipe
which he desired him to make up; but the apothecary, upon
the view of it, told him that it was a strong and dangerous
recipe, and required some time to prepare it, but also asked
him to what use he would apply it. He answered, to kill the
rats that, since his imprisonment, spoiled his books; so,
being satisfied, he promised to make it ready; after a time
he cometh to know if it was ready; but the apothecary said
the ingredients were so hard to procure, that he had not
done it, and so gave him the recipe again, of which he had
taken a copy, which mine author had there precisely written
down, but did seem so horribly, poisonous, that I cut it
forth, lest it might fall into the hands of wicked persons.
But after, it seems, he had got it prepared, and against the
day of his trial had made a week or wick of it [for so is
the word――that is, so fitted, that, like a candle, it might
be fired], which, as soon as ever he was condemned, he
lighted, having provided himself with a tinder-box and steel
to strike fire. And whosoever should know the ingredients of
that wick or candle, and the manner of the composition, will
easily be persuaded of the virulency and venomous effects of
it.’ This explanation seems to have been adapted to the
public appetite for the wonderful; at all events, being
anonymous, it is to be regarded as nothing more than a
curiosity. The generally received explanation was, that the
disease arose from infection brought into court by the
prisoners; and the opinion, sanctioned by lord Bacon, that
this infection was a fever bred by the filth of the jail,
was but too surely confirmed by subsequent instances of a
precisely similar nature.
Transcriber’s Note:
This book was written in a period when many words had not become
standardized in their spelling. Titles of individuals were not always
spelled with a capital letter. Proper nouns may have multiple spelling
variations; inconsistent use of hyphens and diacriticals were not
changed. Dialect, obsolete words, spelling errors and incorrect dates
were not changed. Words missing from the text were not added.
Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like
this_. Footnotes were renumbered sequentially and were moved to the
end of the book. Obvious printing errors, such as backwards, upside
down, and partially printed letters, were corrected. Letters in
reverse order were corrected. Capital letters were added where missing
at the beginning of sentences. Final stops missing at the end of
abbreviations and sentences were added. Duplicate letters and words at
line endings or page breaks were removed.
Unprinted dashes were added between entries within the Table of
Contents. For consistency, space was added between letters B. C.
Unprinted quotation marks were added and mis-matched quotation marks
were adjusted to standard usage.