THE JOURNAL OF C. R. COCKERELL, R.A.
[Illustration: C. R. Cockerell]
TRAVELS IN SOUTHERN EUROPE AND THE LEVANT, 1810-1817.
THE JOURNAL OF C. R. COCKERELL, R.A.
EDITED BY HIS SON
SAMUEL PEPYS COCKERELL
With a Portrait
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
NEW YORK AND BOMBAY
1903
All rights reserved
PREFACE
My father, Charles Robert Cockerell, whose travels the following pages
record, was the second son of Samuel Pepys Cockerell, a man of some
means, architect to the East India Company and to one or more London
estates. He was born on the 27th of April, 1788, and at a suitable age
he went to Westminster, a fashionable school in those days. There he
remained until he was sixteen. He was then set to study architecture, at
first in his father's office, and later in that of Mr. Robert Smirke.
His father must have had a great faith in the educational advantage of
travel, as already in 1806, when he was only eighteen, he was sent a
tour to study the chief architectural objects of the West of England and
Wales. The sketches in the diary of this journey show him already the
possessor of so light and graceful a touch in drawing that it is evident
that he must have practised it from very early years. This no doubt was
followed by other similar excursions, but his father's desire was that
he should see foreign countries. Unfortunately, in 1810 most of the
Continent was closed to Englishmen. Turkey, which included Greece, was,
however, open. As it chanced, this was a happy exception. The current of
taste for the moment was running strongly in the direction of Greek
architecture; Smirke himself had but lately returned thence. When a
scheme for making a tour there came to be discussed, Mr. William
Hamilton, then Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, an intimate friend
of the family, who had himself travelled in those parts, took a great
interest in it, and offered to send him out as King's messenger with
despatches for the fleet at Cadiz, Malta, and Constantinople. Such an
offer was too good to refuse.
No definite tour had been or could be marked out in the then existing
conditions of European politics. The traveller was to be guided by
circumstances; but nothing approaching the length of absence, which
extended itself to seven and a quarter years, was contemplated at the
time of starting.
As far as possible I have used my father's own words in the following
account of his journeys; but the letters and memoranda of a youth of
twenty-two, who disliked and had no talent for writing, naturally
require a great deal of editing.
His beautiful sketches form what may be called his real diary.
I should add that accounts of some of the episodes recorded in this
Journal have seen the light already. For instance, the discovery of the
Ægina Marbles and of the Phigaleian Marbles is narrated in my father's
book, 'The Temples of Ægina and Bassæ,' and in Hughes's 'Travels' as
well. Stackelberg gives his own account of the excavations at Bassæ in
'Der Apollotempel zu Bassæ &c.' So that I cannot flatter myself that the
matter is either quite new or well presented. But in spite of these
drawbacks I have thought the Journal in its entirety worth publishing.
Sympathetic readers will find between the lines a fairly distinct
picture of what travel was like in the early years of the last century,
and also the portrait of a not uninteresting personality.
SAMUEL PEPYS COCKERELL.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
Leaves London for Plymouth--The despatch vessel--They take a
French prize--The prisoners--An alarm--Cadiz--Malta--Life
on board--The Dardanelles--Takes boat for Constantinople 1
CHAPTER II
Constantinople--Capture of the _Black Joke_--Life in
Constantinople--Its dangers--Friends--Audience of
caimacam--Trip up the Bosphorus 13
CHAPTER III
Constantinople continued--Dangers of sketching--Turkish
architecture--A Turkish acquaintance--Society in
Constantinople--Visit to the Princes' Islands 24
CHAPTER IV
Leaves Constantinople--By Troy, Salonica, Mycone, Delos, to
Athens--Life in Athens--Acquaintances--Byron, &c. 40
CHAPTER V
Trip to Ægina--Discovery and transportation of the Marbles to
Athens--Efforts to sell them 49
CHAPTER VI
Life in Athens--Eleusis--Transportation of Ægina Marbles to Zante 59
CHAPTER VII
Zante--Colonel Church--Leaves Zante to make tour of the
Morea--Olympia--Bassæ--Discovery of bas-reliefs--Forced to desist
from excavations 68
CHAPTER VIII
Andritzena--Caritzena--Megalopolis--Benighted--Kalamata 79
CHAPTER IX
Trip to Maina--Its relative prosperity--Return to Kalamata--
Second trip to Maina--Murginos--Sparta--Napoli to Athens 88
CHAPTER X
Ægina Marbles called for by British Government ships--Leaves
Athens for Crete and Egypt with Hon. Francis North--Canea--Condition
of Crete--By land--Retimo--Kalipo Christo--Candia--Audience
of the pasha--His band--The archbishop--The military
commandant--Turkish society--Life in Candia 102
CHAPTER XI
Expedition to the Labyrinth--Delli Yani--The interior--The return
to Candia--Life there--Rejoins Mr. North--Bad weather--Expedition
to Egypt abandoned--Scio--Leaves Mr. North to go
to Smyrna--Storms--Danger and cold--Arrives at Smyrna 120
CHAPTER XII
Life in Smyrna--Trip to Trios--Foster falls in love--Cockerell
starts alone for town of Seven Churches--Pergamo--Knifnich--
Sumeh--Commerce all in the hands of Greeks--Karasman Oglu--Turcomans
--Sardis--Allah Sheri--Crosses from Valley of Hermus to that of the
Meander--Hierapolis--Danger of the country--Turns westwards 134
CHAPTER XIII
Back into civilisation--Nasli Bazar--Nysa--Guzul--Hissar
(Magnesia)--The plague--Aisaluck (Ephesus)--Scala Nuova--A storm
--Samos--Priene--Canna--Geronta--Knidos--Rhodes--Mr. North
again--Sails for Patara--Castel Rosso--Cacava--Myra--The shrine of
St. Nicolas--Troubles with natives--A water snake--Finica--Carosi--
Olympus--Volcanic fire--Phaselis--Falls in with the _Frederiksteen_ 153
CHAPTER XIV
Adalia--Satalia (Sidé)--Alaia--Hostility of natives--Selinty--Cape
Anemurium--Visit of a pasha--Chelindreh--Porto Cavaliero--Seleucia--A
privateer--Natives hostile--Pompeiopolis--Tarsous--A poor
reception--Explores a lake--Castle of Ayas--Captain
Beaufort wounded by natives--Sails for Malta 173
CHAPTER XV
Malta--Attacked by bilious fever--Sails to Palermo--Segeste--Leaves
for Girgenti--Immigrant Albanians--Selinunto--Travelling with
Sicilians--Girgenti--Restores the Temple of the Giants--Leaves for
Syracuse--Occupations in Syracuse--Sale of the Ægina
Marbles--Leaves for Zante 199
CHAPTER XVI
Athens--The excavation of marbles at Bassæ--Bronstedt's mishap--Fate of
the Corinthian capital of Bassæ--Severe illness--Stackelberg's mishap
--Trip to Albania with Hughes and Parker--Thebes--Livadia--The five
emissaries--State of the country--Merchants of Livadia--Delphi--Salona
--Galaxidi--Patras--Previsa--Nicopolis--Arta--The plague--Janina 216
CHAPTER XVII
Ali Pasha--Psallida--Euphrosyne--Mukhtar--Starts for a trip to
Suli--Cassiopeia--Unable to ford river--Turns back to Janina--Leaves
to return to Athens--Crosses the Pindus through the snow--Malakash
--A robber--Meteora--Turkish rule--The monastery--By Trikhala,
Phersala, Zituni, Thermopylæ and Livadia to Athens 235
CHAPTER XVIII
Athens--To Zante for sale of Phigaleian Marbles--Returns to
Athens--Fever--Spencer Stanhope--Trip to Marathon, &c.--Ramazan
--Living out in the country--A picnic at Salamis--Presented
with a block of Panathenaic frieze--Trip to Ægina--Leaves
Athens for Italy 252
CHAPTER XIX
Naples--Pompeii--Rome--The German Rester got rid of--Social
success in Rome--Leaves for Florence--Bartholdy and the
Niobe group--Lady Dillon--The Wellington Palace--Pisa--Tour
in the north--Meets Stackelberg again--Returns to
Florence and Rome--Homeward bound--Conclusion 269
FRONTISPIECE
PORTRAIT OF C. R. COCKERELL, _after a Pencil Drawing by_
J. D. INGRES.
TRAVELS IN SOUTHERN EUROPE AND THE LEVANT
CHAPTER I
LEAVES LONDON FOR PLYMOUTH--THE DESPATCH VESSEL--THEY TAKE A FRENCH
PRIZE--THE PRISONERS--AN ALARM--CADIZ--MALTA--LIFE ON BOARD--THE
DARDANELLES--TAKES BOAT FOR CONSTANTINOPLE.
"I started from London on Saturday, April the 14th, 1810, with 200l. in
my pocket to pay expenses. By the favour of Mr. Hamilton I was to carry
out despatches to Mr. Adair, our ambassador at Constantinople, so I had
in prospect a free passage in fair security to the furthest point of my
intended journey. As my good friend and master in Art, Mr. R. Smirke,
accompanied me to Salisbury, we loitered there a little, but for the
rest of my journey, night and day, I lost not one moment. Nevertheless I
had forgotten that when on Government duty one has no business to stop
at all anywhere, and when I was cross-examined as to my journey by the
Admiral of the Port at Plymouth, I felt extremely awkward.
On the morning following my arrival, viz. April 16th, I embarked on
board the vessel which was to carry me. She was a lugger-rigged despatch
boat, hired by Government, named the _Black Joke_. She was very old, as
she had been at the battle of Camperdown in 1797, but I was charmed with
her neatness and tidiness. We had ten guns, thirty-five men, one sheep,
two pigs and fowls. The commander's name was Mr. Cannady, and we were
taking out two young midshipmen to join the squadron off Cadiz.
We did not set sail till the 19th. Once out in the open sea the two
young midshipmen were very ill and so was our commander.
On the third day out, Sunday, April 22nd, while we were at dinner the
boatswain suddenly sang out, 'Sail ahead!' We ran up to see what it
might be, and the ship was pronounced to be a merchant brig. At the same
time, to be prepared in case of deception, all things were cleared for
action. It was not long before we came up with her, and the master went
aboard. Presently we heard the report of two pistols. Great was our
astonishment, and the expression of suspense on every face was a study
till it was relieved by the voice of the master bawling through a
trumpet that she was a British merchantman, the _Frances_, from Fiale
(_sic_), laden with cotton, figs, and other things, that she had been
captured by a French privateer, and was now our prize. At these words
the joy of the sailors was such as you cannot conceive. When the master
came aboard again we learnt that the two shots came from a brace of
pistols which were handed to him by the captain of the _Frances_ when
she was boarded, and which he discharged for fear of accidents.
The French crew of eight men, all very ragged, was brought on board. As
they manifested some unwillingness at first, Cannady thought fit to
receive them with drawn cutlasses; but they made no sort of resistance.
With them came an English boy, son of the owner of the _Frances_, and
from him we got an interesting account of her being taken. As his father
had but a short time before lost another ship, the boy showed a joy at
this recovery which was delightful to see, but he behaved very nicely
about recommending the Frenchmen to us. They had treated him very well,
he said, and were good sailors. It was settled that the prize master
should be sent with three or four men, the master's mate at their head,
to Plymouth. I took the opportunity of sending a few words home, and off
she went. With a fair wind she was out of sight in an hour. As I was the
only man in our ship who could speak a word of French, I was made
interpreter in examining the prisoners. If the account they give is
correct, our sailors, who are entitled to an eighth part of the salvage,
will share 3,645l. 10s. 8d. I took an early opportunity, when Cannady
talked of our luck and anticipated more, to assure him that the only
good fortune I desired was a safe and quick passage to Constantinople,
for fear he should think I was looking out for prize-money. I don't know
what my share would be, if indeed I have any, but if I find I have, I
shall consider how to dispose of it in a handsome way.
The poor Frenchmen were very miserable, and I, partly out of pity, and
more because I wanted to practise speaking, rather made friends with
them. They are very different from our men. They lounge about anyhow in
a disorderly fashion, are much dirtier--in fact filthy, so that our
sailors complain of them loudly in this respect--and are much livelier.
I saw three of them sitting yesterday all of a heap reading 'Télémaque'
(fancy that!) with the utmost avidity, and when they see me drawing,
they seem to crawl all over me to watch the operation. My special friend
is one Esprit Augin, who appears to be superior to the rest and to speak
better. We talk together every day till I am tired. In spite of his
grief at being a prisoner--and he appeared to feel his position more
than any of them--he began the very next day to talk to me of balls,
masquerades, promenades, and so on with inexpressible delight, and I
even thought at one moment that we should have had a pas seul on the
deck. He sang me no end of songs. He was as vain as he was lively. I
told him I should like to make a drawing of a youth named Jean
Requette, a handsome, clever-looking boy of the party; at which he
sighed deeply and said, 'Moi je ne suis pas joli.'
Amongst other things, Augin told us that he had great hopes of being set
free again, for that there were two French privateer frigates off
Ferrol; and when we came off that point on Sunday the 29th, and I heard
the boatswain sing out 'Two sail ahead,' we made sure we had met them.
All glasses were out in an instant, and sure enough there were two
privateers.
Too proud to alter it, we held quietly on our course, and they came
quickly up with us. We made the private signals to them, but as the sun
was low and just behind them we could not make out the answer or what
colours they flew.
Thereupon orders were given to clear for action. In a moment all was
activity. The sailors stripped to their shirts. The guns were run out.
Greville and I loaded the muskets and pistols. Every man had his place.
Mine was at the stern in charge of the despatches, ready tied to a
cannon shot, to sink them in case of necessity, and with orders to make
the best use I could of the muskets. We were all ready by the time the
first of the privateers came within speaking distance of us. There was a
dead silence on both sides for a moment, a moment of intense suspense,
then our commander spoke them, and the answer, to our delight, came in
English. They were the _Iris_ and _Matchless_ privateers from Guernsey
on the look-out for the Isle de France men going into Bordeaux. A boat
came aboard us, and I was not sorry that they should see our deck and
that I knew how to take care of despatches. It is wonderful how the
animation of preparations for fighting takes away from the natural fear.
If I had had to look on without anything to do, I should have been in a
dreadful fright.
After this false alarm we went on to Cadiz without any event, beyond
meeting with occasional merchantmen, whom we always thought proper to
board.
I could not go ashore at Cadiz, and I shall never cease to regret it;
but the orders of the naval authorities were peremptory that the lugger
should proceed immediately with her despatches to Malta.[1] We deposited
our prisoners with the fleet."
The next place the _Black Joke_ touched at was Gibraltar, where she
delivered letters and despatches. She could only stay four or five
hours, but Cockerell was able to go ashore. As it was a market day, the
scene Gibraltar, and this was the first time he had ever been in a
foreign country, it is not to be wondered at that he was intoxicated
with delight. He gushes over it in the style of the very young
traveller.
"I like watching the sailors. Many of them are very fine fellows, and I
have nearly filled my book with drawings of them and the Frenchmen.
Self-consciousness had the most ludicrous effect upon them when I was
doing their portraits, and great rough fellows who you might think would
eat horseflesh would simper with downcast eyes, like a coquettish miss.
Their ways of killing time are wonderful. Sometimes you see one
whittling a piece of hard wood for some trifling purpose for hours and
hours together. At another time, if an unfortunate little bird comes on
to the vessel, they run about the rigging damning its eyes till they are
tired out. There are some great singers amongst them, who treat us in
the evenings. Their taste is to sing about two hundred verses to the
same tune. I am told we have one highly accomplished, who can sing a
song of three hundred. I only hope we shall never hear him.
We arrived at Malta overnight and awaited despatches, which we have
received this morning. Everywhere the authorities are so solicitous that
no time should be lost that we are sent on without mercy. I am told the
despatches we brought here were of consequence; but, like all postmen,
we know nothing of the contents of the letters we bring. Only we see
that all rejoice and wish the commandant, General Oakes,[2] joy. I also
hear that the French are advancing on Sicily.
The harbour here is full of prizes. A frigate came in this morning full
of shot holes. She had cut out a brig from Taranto in the face of two
brigs, a schooner, and a frigate."
From Malta it took the _Black Joke_ over a month to get to
Constantinople. Most of the letters written home during the time were
sent back by the _Black Joke_ on her return voyage. It will be seen why
they never reached their destination.
Meanwhile some notes were despatched by other means, and from them I
extract the following:
"We took a pilot from Malta, a decayed Ragusan captain. Had I made but
the first steps in Italian as I had in French, I might have profited by
this opportunity as I did by the French prisoners; for the man spoke no
other language, and was to direct us through a dangerous sea by signs
and grimace as the only means of communication between us.
At first we had a fair wind, but as we got nearer the Morea it became
less favourable and blew us nearly up to Zante. Some ancient writer
records the saying in his day, 'Let him who is to sail round Taenarus
(Matapan) take a last farewell of his relations;' and it is still
dangerous, on account of the eddies of wind about Taygetus for one
thing, and on account of the cruel Mainiote pirates for another. We
passed it securely; but the story of an English brig of war having been
boarded and taken by them while the captain and crew were at dinner, and
that not long ago, put us on our guard. We had nettings up at night, and
a sharp look-out at all hours.
I shall never forget how we made our entrance into the Hellespont with
sixteen sail of Greek and Turkish fruit-boats, all going up to
Constantinople.
No yachting match could be so pretty as these boats, tacking and
changing their figures, with their white sails, painted sides, and
elegant forms, as compared with our northern sea boats. Our superior
sailing, however, was soon confessed, and we went past them. As we did
so, several goodnaturedly threw cucumbers and other fruits on board.
We cast anchor not far from the second castle near the northern side,
and put ashore to water where we saw a spring. It was evening, and under
the shade of a fine plane tree, by a pool lined and edged with marble,
before a fountain of elegant architecture, sat on variegated carpets
some majestic Turks. They were armed and richly dressed. Their composed,
placid countenances seemed unmoved at our approach. One of them spoke
and made me a sign to draw nearer. I did so, and with an air at once
courteous and commanding he signed to me to sit near him and offered me
a long pipe to smoke. After some pause he put questions, and smiled when
I could not answer them. By their gestures and the word Inglis I saw
they were aware of our nationality. They looked approbation and admired
the quality of my grey cloth coat. After some minutes I rose and left
them with a bow, enchanted with their politeness, and fancying myself in
a scene of the 'Arabian Nights.'
Shortly after we were visited by our consul and his son. We learnt later
that they were Jews, but their handsome appearance imposed completely on
us, and, in spite of the mixture of Jewish obsequiousness, their Turkish
dignity made us conceive a prodigious opinion of them. The consul
understood quickly that I was a milordo, and taking from his pocket an
antique intaglio he begged my acceptance of it with a manner I in my
innocence thought I could not refuse. I was anxious to show my sense of
his courtesy by the offer of a pound of best Dartford powder, which,
after some pressing, he accepted; but at the same time added, so far as
I understood through the interpreter, that he hoped I did not mean to
pay him for his intaglio. I was overcome with confusion, shocked at my
own indelicacy in giving so coarse an expression to my gratitude, and I
would have given worlds to have undone the whole affair. Of course my
embarrassment was perfectly needless. A little experience of them taught
me that this was only the shallow _finesse_ of the Orientals, and
looking back I have laughed to think of my ingenuous greenness at that
time.
The following day Captain Cannady and myself, with my despatches and
baggage, the _Black Joke_ not being allowed to approach the capital,[3]
embarked in a Turkish rowboat with a reis and twelve men, to go up to
Constantinople. Now for the first time I felt myself thoroughly divided
from England.
The wind and current were against us, and we were forced to put ashore
early in the evening of the first day. I pitched my tent on the shore
opposite Abydos. It soon attracted the notice of an aga who appeared on
a fine Arab horse, and sent a message to know who and what we were. We
made a fire and stayed there all night sitting round it, and I felt as
if I was at the theatre, passing my first night on foreign soil among
strange bearded faces and curious costumes lit up by the flames. I
refused a bed and slept on a rug, but next day I thought I should have
dropped with faintness and fatigue.
I soon got accustomed to lying on hard ground, and, in after times, I
have slept for many a three months running without even taking off my
clothes except to bathe, or having any other bed than my pamplona or my
pelisse. The second night we slept at Gallipoli, and altogether, owing
to the strong wind, we were no less than five days getting to
Constantinople.
Our Turks were obliging and cheerful, but had very little air of
discipline, and the work they did they seemed to do by courtesy. The
reis was a grave, mild old man, who sang us Turkish songs.
We approached Constantinople as the sun rose, and as it shone on its
glorious piles of mosques and minarets, golden points and crescents,
painted houses, kiosks and gardens, our Turks pulled harder at their
oars, shouting '_Stamboul, guzel azem Stamboul_!' The scene grew more
and more brilliant as we drew nearer, till it became overwhelming as we
entered the crowded port. Nothing but my despatches under my arm
recalled me from a sense of being in a dream. In forty days, spent as it
were, in the main, in the sameness of shipboard, I had jumped from
sombre London to this fantastic paradise.
I left my boat and walked at once to the English palace with my
despatches, which I then and there delivered."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The British fleet was at this time co-operating with the Spaniards
in defending Cadiz against the French.
[2] Afterwards Sir Hildebrand Oakes, Bart., G.C.B. Served with
distinction in India, Egypt, America, and elsewhere.
[3] No ships of war were ever allowed up to Constantinople in those
days, and, indeed, much later.