“Long accustomed, however, to a cold bed on the hard snow or the bare

rock, few could sleep amid the comfort of our new accommodations. I

was myself compelled to leave the bed which had been kindly assigned

me and take my abode in a chair for the night, nor did it fare much

better with the rest. It was for time to reconcile us to this sudden

and violent change, to break through what had become habit, and to

inure us once more to the usages of our former days.”

As a curious contrast to these exciting descriptions of danger,

we will sketch in as compact a form as possible the first voyage

round the world performed by an Englishman—namely, our illustrious

countryman, Sir Francis Drake.

Queen Elizabeth, on presenting a sword to the commander of a secret

expedition, said, “We do account that he which striketh at thee,

Drake, striketh at us.” His fleet consisted of five ships—the

Pelican, of 120 tons burthen; the Elizabeth, a bark of 80 tons; the

Swan, a fly-boat of 50 tons; the Marygold, a barque of 30 tons, and

the Christopher, a pinnace of 15 tons, and was ostensibly fitted out

for a trading voyage to Alexandria, though this pretence did not

deceive the watchful Spaniards. Drake, like Columbus and Cook, chose

small ships as better fitted to thread narrow and difficult channels.

The crews of his little squadron amounted to one hundred and sixty

men; an old author says that he did not omit “provision for ornament

and delight, carrying with him expert musicians, rich furniture (all

the vessels for his table, yea, many belonging to his cook-room,

being of pure silver), with divers shows of all sorts of curious

workmanship whereby the civility and magnificence of his native

country might, among all nations whither he should come, be the more

admired.”

Although it is likely that the intrepid resolve of crossing the

Pacific Ocean was not originally formed by Drake, and only entered

into from circumstances in which he was afterwards placed, he is not

the less entitled to the praise so often given him for penetrating

with so small a force the channel explored by Magellan and known by

his name. The passage through the Straits of Magellan had long been

abandoned by the Spaniards, and a superstition had arisen against

adventuring into the Pacific, as likely to prove fatal to any who are

engaged in the discovery or even in the navigation of its waters.

Drake was at first driven back by a violent storm; but, unintimidated

by this adverse augury, he finally set sail from Plymouth on the

13th of December, 1577. On Christmas-day they reached Cape Cantin,

on the coast of Barbary, and on the 27th found a safe and commodious

harbour in Mogadore. Here Drake had some unpleasant transactions with

Muley Moloc, the celebrated king of the Moors, but sailed again on

the last day of the year. The less important places touched at in the

succeeding part of the voyage were Cape Blanco, the isles of Mayo and

San Jago, and the “Isla del Fogo,” or Burning Island, together with

“Ilba Brava,” or the Brave Island. The equinoctial line is afterwards

crossed amidst alternate calms and tempest; they are supplied with

fresh water by copious rains, and they also catch dolphins, bonitos,

and flying-fish which fell on the decks, “where hence,” says the

invaluable Hakluyt, “they could not rise againe for want of moisture,

for when their wings are drie they cannot flie.” At length, on the

5th of April, they had fully voyaged across the wide Atlantic, and

made the coast of Brazil in 31° 30´ south latitude. They saw the

natives raising fires on the shore, beheld troops of wild deer,

“large and mightie,” and saw the foot-prints of men of large stature

on the beach. On the 15th of the same month they anchored in the

great River Plate, where they killed “certaine sea-wolves, commonly

called seales.” They thus secured a new supply of fresh provisions,

and shortly after of fresh water.

[Illustration: Seals]

On the 27th they again stood out to sea, and steered southward. The

Swan was outsailed by the rest of the little fleet, and also the

Mary, a very small Portuguese vessel, or caunter, which they had

taken in their course. On the 12th of May, Drake anchored within view

of a headland, and the next morning went in a boat to the shore. Here

he was in some danger, for a thick fog came on and shut him from the

view of the vessels; a gale also arose and drove them out to sea.

Fires were at length lighted, all the vessels, save the Swan and the

Mary, were again collected together. Fifty dried ostriches, besides

other fowls, are related to have been here found deposited by the

savages, and of this store the ships’ crews took possession. Upwards

of two hundred seals were also taken and slaughtered; and while a

party was filling water-casks, killing seals, and salting fowls for

future provision, Drake himself set sail in the Pelican, and Captain

Winter in the Elizabeth, each on different tacks, in search of the

Swan and the Mary. Drake soon found the Swan, and, to diminish the

cares and hazards of the voyage, removed all her stores and then

broke her up for firewood.

The place of rendezvous was named Seal Bay, and some highly

interesting accounts of interviews with the savage native tribes

during their stay here are given in Hakluyt. On the 3rd of June they

set sail once more; on the 19th they found the missing Portuguese

prize, the Mary; and the next day the whole squadron moored in Port

San Julian, latitude 49° 30´ S.

A very perilous squabble took place here with the native

Patagonians. A gunner belonging to the crew was shot through with

an arrow, and died on the spot, and Robert Winter, relative of

the officer above mentioned, was wounded, and died in consequence

shortly afterwards. The stature of these tribes has been the subject

of dispute from the time of Magellan to our own. An old author in

Hakluyt says, “These men be of no such stature as the Spaniardes

report, being but of the height of Englishmen: for I have seene men

in England taller than I could see any of them. But peradventure the

Spaniard did not thinke that any Englishman would have come thither

so soone to have disproved them in this and divers others of their

notorious lies.” Another author, however, makes the Patagonians seven

feet and a half in height.

An event occurred while the fleet lay at Port San Julian, which has

cast a deep shade of suspicion over the character of Drake. This was

the execution of Thomas Doughty, accused of mutiny and a conspiracy

to massacre Drake and the principal officers. We leave the young

reader to investigate the matter in other works, and proceed with our

abridged narrative.

After breaking up the Portuguese prize and reducing the number of

ships to three, they again set sail on the 17th of August—the weather

being colder than midwinter in Britain—and on the 24th anchored

thirty leagues within the Strait of Magellan. Here Drake changed the

name of his ship, the Pelican, to the Golden Hind, in compliment to

his friend, Sir Christopher Hatton, in whose escutcheon the golden

hind is said to have had a place. While passing through the strait,

which they computed to be 110 leagues in length, they noted that the

width varied from one league to four; that the tide set in from each

end of the strait and met about the middle; and they also killed 3000

“of birds having no wings, but short pineons which serve their turne

in swimming.” These penguins, as they undoubtedly were, are also

described as being “fat as an English goose.”

On the 6th of September, 1578, Drake and his gallant crew sailed

their ships on the great Pacific. Magellan had passed through the

strait in 1520, and but two other voyagers had performed the passage

after Magellan, and before Drake.

A north-east passage was one main object contemplated by Drake; and

accordingly, on clearing the strait, he held a north-west course, and

in two days the fleet advanced seventy leagues. A violent gale from

the north-east now drove them into 57° south latitude and 200 leagues

to the west. Under bare poles they scudded before the tempest, and

observed an eclipse of the moon on the 15th of September; “but,”

says a narrator, in Hakluyt, “neyther did the eclipticall conflict

of the moon impayre our state, nor her clearing againe amend us a

whit, but the accustomed eclipse of the sea continued in his force,

wee being darkened more than the moone sevenfold.” After a short

season of moderate weather, another tempest separated from them the

ship Marygold, and she was never more heard of. The Golden Hind and

Elizabeth were now left to pursue the voyage; but on being driven

back to the western entrance of the strait, Winter, the commander

of the Elizabeth, heartily tired of the voyage, slipped away from

Drake and returned to England. He reached this country in June, 1579,

with the credit of having achieved the navigation of the Straits of

Magellan, but with the shame of having deserted his commander.

The gallant Drake in the Golden Hind had stormy weather to encounter

for some time after, and was driven so far south as to anchor in a

creek at Cape Horn, and thus became the discoverer of that southern

point of the entire continent of America.

The wind changing he steered northwards, and on the 25th of November,

1578, anchored near the coast of Chili, where he had another

collision with the natives and lost two of his men. Soon afterwards

they fell in with a people of more friendly manners, and learned that

they had oversailed Valparaiso, the port of San Jago, where a Spanish

ship lay at anchor. They put back and took the ship, called the Grand

Captain of the South, in which were 60,000 pesos of gold, besides

jewels, merchandise, and a good store of Chili wine. Each peso was

valued at eight shillings. They rejoiced over their plunder; but in

our own times such an act would be deemed a piracy. Nine families

inhabited Valparaiso, but they fled, and the English revelled in

the pillage of wine, bread, bacon, and other luxuries to men long

accustomed to hard fare. They plundered the church also of a silver

chalice, two cruets, and an altar-cloth, and presented them to the

chaplain of the vessel.

On the 19th of January, 1579, after some period of rest in a harbour,

they pursued their voyage along the coast, and accidentally landing

at Tarapaza, they found a Spaniard asleep on the shore with thirteen

bars of silver lying beside him. “We took the silver and left the

man,” says the relator. A little farther on a party which was sent

ashore to procure water fell in with a Spaniard and a native boy

driving eight llamas, each of which was laden with two leathern bags

containing fifty pounds of silver, or eight hundred in all. They not

only took on board the llamas and the silver, but soon after fell in

with three small barks quite empty (the crews being on shore), save

that they found in them fifty-seven wedges of silver, each weighing

twenty pounds. They took the silver and set the barks adrift. After

some other trifling adventures they learned that the Cacafuego, a

ship laden with gold and silver, had just sailed for Panama, the

point whence all goods were carried by the Spaniards across the

isthmus. Away they bore in search of this ship, but were near being

overtaken by a superior force of Spaniards in two ships. Escaping,

they passed Payta, and learned that the Cacafuego had the start of

them but two days. Two other vessels were next taken, with some

silver, eighty pounds of gold, and a golden crucifix “with goodly

great emerauds set in it.” The Cacafuego was at length overtaken and

captured: the ship contained twenty-six tons of silver, thirteen

chests of rials of plate, and eighty pounds of gold, besides diamonds

and inferior gems, the whole estimated at 360,000 pesos. The uncoined

silver alone found in the vessel may be estimated at 212,000_l._, at

five shillings an ounce.

It seems questionable whether, when thus richly laden, Drake would

have thought of encompassing the globe if he could have assured

himself of a safe voyage to England by returning through the Straits

of Magellan. He knew that the Spaniards would be on the alert to

recover the treasure, and so resolved to seek a north-east passage

homeward. After remaining a short time in a safe harbour to repair

the ship, he commenced the voyage once more. Delays were made for

plunder and prizetaking until the 26th of April, when Drake stood

boldly out to sea, and by the 3rd of June had sailed 1400 leagues

on different courses without seeing land. He had now reached 42°

north latitude, and the cold was felt severely. On the 5th, being

driven by a gale, land was seen, to the surprise of Drake, who had

not calculated that the continent stretched so far westward. The

adventurers were now coasting the western margin of California.

They anchored at length in 38° 30´ north latitude, and were soon

surrounded with native Indians, who, among other remarkable things,

offered them _tabah_, or tobacco. Drake spent thirty-six days here

for completing the repairs of his ship, took possession of the

country formally, by erecting a monument and fixing a brass plate

upon it, bearing the name, effigy, and arms of Queen Elizabeth, and

called the country New Albion. To the port in which they had anchored

he gave his own name, and on the 23rd of July bore away direct west

as possible across the Pacific, with the intent to reach England by

India and the Cape of Good Hope.

No land was seen by the gallant men on board this little ship for

sixty-eight days. On the 30th of September they fell in with some

islands in 8° north latitude, which they termed the Isle of Thieves,

from the dishonest disposition of the natives. On the 16th of October

they reached the Philippines, and anchored at Mindanao. On the 3rd of

November the Moluccas were seen, and they soon anchored before the

chief town of Ternate, entered into civil gossip with the natives,

and were visited by the king, “a true gentleman Pagan.” Among the

presents received from this royal person were fowls, rice, sugar,

cloves, figs, and “a sort of meale which they call _sagu_, made of

the tops of certaine trees, tasting in the mouth like soure curds,

but melteth like sugar, whereof they make certaine cakes, which may

be kept the space of ten yeeres and yet then good to be eaten.”

Brilliant offers were made by the Sultan of Ternate; but Drake was

shy of them, and on the 9th of November, having taken in a large

quantity of cloves, the Golden Hind left the Moluccas.

On the 14th they anchored near the eastern part of Celebes, and

finding the land uninhabited and abundant in forests, they determined

there fully to repair the ship for her voyage home. “Throughout

the groves,” say the old writers in Purchas and Hakluyt, “there

flickered innumerable bats ‘as bigge as large hennes.’ There were

also multitudes of ‘fiery wormes flying in the ayre,’ no larger

than the common fly in England, which skimming up and down between

woods and bushes, made “such a shew and light as if every twigge or

tree had bene a burning candle.” They likewise saw great numbers of

land-crabs, or cray-fish, “of exceeding bignesse, one whereof was

sufficient for foure hungry stomackes at a dinner, being also very

good and restoring meat, whereof wee had experience; and they digge

themselves holes in the earth like conies.”

On the 12th of December they again set sail; but now came their

great peril. After being entangled in shoals among the Spice Islands

for some days, in the night of the 9th of January, 1580, the Golden

Hind struck on a rock. No leak appeared; but the ship was immovable.

The ebb tide left her in but six feet water, while, so deeply was

she laden, that it required thirteen feet of water to float her.

Eight guns, three tons of cloves, and a quantity of meal were thrown

overboard, but this did not relieve the ship. “We stucke fast,” says

the narrator in Hakluyt, “from eight of the clocke at night til foure

of the clocke in the afternoone the next day, being indeede out of

all hope to escape the danger; but our generall, as he had alwayes

hitherto shewed himself couragious, and of a good confidence in the

mercie and protection of God, so now he continued in the same; and

lest he should seeme to perish wilfully, both hee and wee did our

best indevour to save ourselves, which it pleased God so to blesse,

that in the ende we cleared ourselves most happily of the danger.”

Their ship in deep water once more, they reached the Isle of Barateve

on the 8th of February, and were kindly and handsomely treated by

the inhabitants. Java was reached on the 12th of March, and here

again they were generously received. On the 26th they left Java, and

did not again see land till they passed the Cape of Good Hope, on

the 15th of June. The Portuguese being acquaintances, Drake did not

wish just then to meet; he did not land at the Cape, but steered away

north, and on the 22nd of July arrived at Sierra Leone. Finally, on

the 26th of September, 1580, after an absence of two years and ten

months, he came to anchor in the harbour of Plymouth.

The riches he had brought home, the daring bravery he had displayed,

the perils undergone, the marvels told of the strange countries

visited, made Drake the idol of the whole English people. On the 4th

of April, 1581, Queen Elizabeth went in state to dine on board the

Golden Hind, then lying at Deptford. After the banquet she knighted

the gallant circumnavigator, and also gave orders that his vessel

should be preserved as a monument of the glory of the nation and of

the illustrious voyager.

[Illustration: Decoration]

CHAPTER IV.

One path of Enterprise belongs distinctly to modern adventurers—the

search after interesting remains of antiquity, and investigation of

their present actual condition. Such enterprises of discovery have

often their source in a love of Art, which can only exist in the

most cultivated minds. In other instances they arise from a laudable

desire to verify ancient history, and thus serve the highly important

purpose of confirming that branch of human knowledge which has

hitherto depended simply on the testimony of written tradition.

Perhaps the greatest contributor to certain knowledge in this

department of enterprise and discovery was the celebrated Belzoni,

though our acquaintance with the time-honoured and mysterious

monuments of Egypt has been enlarged by many other travellers. Greece

has also had her distinguished list of antiquarian explorers; and the

glowing lands of the East, so famous in sacred and profane story,

have been visited by numerous travellers, each and all ardent to

survey and report the present condition of the diversified monuments

of human skill and strength existing in the primeval countries of our

race.

Every youthful visitor to the British Museum will be interested with

the beautiful black granite statue so well known as “the young

Memnon.” Near the left foot of this gigantic sitting figure will be

found the name of Belzoni, cut by his own hand. Burckhardt and Salt

were the enterprising and disinterested persons who paid the expenses

of conveying this massive piece of ancient sculpture to Alexandria:

Belzoni and his assistants undertook the immense labour.

[Illustration: THE RUINS OF LUXOR.]

It was amidst the ruins of Thebes, old Homer’s “city of the hundred

gates,” that this far-famed statue of an old Egyptian king had long

lain. His wonder at entering this ruined metropolis is thus described

by Belzoni: “We saw for the first time the ruins of great Thebes,

and landed at Luxor. Here I beg the reader to observe that but very

imperfect ideas can be formed of the extensive ruins of Thebes,

even from the accounts of the most skilful and accurate travellers.

It is absolutely impossible to imagine the scene displayed without

seeing it. The most sublime ideas that can be formed from the most

magnificent specimens of our present architecture would give a very

incorrect picture of these ruins; for such is the difference, not

only in magnitude, but in form, proportion, and construction, that

even the pencil can convey but a faint idea of the whole. It appeared

to me like entering a city of giants, who, after a long conflict,

were all destroyed, leaving the ruins of their various temples

as the only proof of their former existence. The temple of Luxor

presents to the traveller at once one of the most splendid groups of

Egyptian grandeur. The extensive propylæon, with the two obelisks,

and colossal statues in the front; the thick groups of enormous

columns; the variety of apartments and the sanctuary it contains; the

beautiful ornaments which adorn every part of the walls and columns,

cause in the astonished traveller an oblivion of all that he has seen

before. If his attention be attracted to the north side of Thebes by

the towering remains that project a great height above the wood of

palm trees, he will gradually enter that forest-like assemblage of

ruins of temples, columns, obelisks, colossi, sphynxes, portals, and

an endless number of other astonishing objects, that will convince

him at once of the impossibility of a description. On the west side

of the Nile, still the traveller finds himself among wonders. The

temples of Gournou, Memnonium, and Medinet Aboo, attest the extent of

the great city on this side. The unrivalled colossal figures in the

plain of Thebes, the number of tombs excavated in the rocks, those

in the great valley of the kings, with their paintings, sculptures,

mummies, sarcophagi, figures, &c., are all objects worthy of the

admiration of the traveller, who will not fail to wonder how a nation

which was once so great as to erect these stupendous edifices could

so far fall into oblivion that even their language and writing are

totally unknown to us.”

[Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE OF MEMNON.]

[Illustration: BUST OF MEMNON.]

The bust of Memnon, the immediate object of Belzoni’s research, soon

caught his eye. It was lying with its face upwards, and “apparently

smiling on me,” says Belzoni, “at the thought of being taken to

England.” Among a semi-barbarous people like the Arabs the discoverer

had a thousand difficulties to overcome before he could succeed in

moving this bust of ten or twelve tons weight one inch from its bed

of sand. The chiefs eyed him with jealousy, and conceived, as usual,

that he came in quest of hidden treasures; and the Fellahs were with

difficulty set to work, having made up their minds that it was a

hopeless task. When these simple people saw it first move they all

set up a loud shout, declaring it was not their exertions but the

power of the devil that had effected it. The enormous mass was put in

motion by a few poles and palm-leaf ropes, all the means which they

could command, and which nothing but the ingenuity of Belzoni could

have made efficient. But these materials, poor as they were, created

not half the difficulty and delay occasioned by the intrigues of

the Cachefs and Kaimakans, all of whom were desirous of extorting as

much money as they possibly could, and of obstructing the progress of

the work, as the surest means of effecting their purpose. Even the

labourers, on finding that money was given to them for removing a

mere mass of stone, took it into their heads that it must be filled

with gold, and agreed that so precious an article ought not to be

taken out of the country. Belzoni succeeded, however, in allaying

these ridiculous imaginings, and eighteen days after the commencement

of the operation the colossal bust reached the banks of the Nile.

One day was consumed in embarking it; and after a voyage of hazard

among the cataracts of the Nile, the illustrious traveller reached

Cairo with his prize. From thence he conveyed it to Alexandria, and

lodged it in the Pasha’s magazine; he then returned to Cairo, and

accompanied by Mr. Beechy, immediately proceeded up the Nile, with

the determination, if possible, to accomplish the opening of the

great temple of Ipsambul, a labour he had commenced but a short time

before.

[Illustration: BELZONI REMOVING THE BUST OF MEMNON.]

This grand and gigantic relic of antiquity was discovered and brought

into notice by the lamented Burckhardt, but when Belzoni first

approached it, the accumulation of sand was such “that it appeared

an impossibility ever to reach the door.” The exact spot where he

had fixed the entrance to be was determined in his own mind from

observing the head of a hawk, of such a monstrous size that, with

the body, it could not be less than twenty feet high. This bird he

concluded to be over the doorway; and as below the figure there

is generally a vacant space, followed by a frieze and cornice, he

calculated the upper part of the doorway to be about thirty-five feet

below the summit of the sand.

Having succeeded in procuring for hire, from one of the cachefs,

as many labourers as he could afford to employ, Belzoni set about

clearing away the sand from the front of the temple. The only

condition made with the cachef was, that all the gold and jewels

found in it should belong to him, as chief of the country, and that

Belzoni should have all the stones. At the end of four or five days

his funds were entirely exhausted; he therefore, after obtaining

a promise from the chief that no one should molest the work in

his absence, resumed his search for other antiquities; and, after

conveying the Memnon to Alexandria, and being joined by Mr. Beechy at

Cairo, met, at Philæ, with Captains Irby and Mangles of the British

Navy, and was joined also by them.

Having conciliated the cachefs by suitable presents, they agreed to

give the workmen, who were eighty in number, three hundred piastres

for removing the sand as low down as the entrance. At first they

seemed to set about the task like men who were determined to finish

the job; but, at the end of the third day, they all grew tired, and,

“under the pretext that the Rhamadan was to commence on the next day,

they left us,” says Belzoni, “with the temple, the sand, and the

treasure, and contented themselves with keeping the three hundred

piastres.”

The travellers were now convinced that, if the temple was to be

opened at all, it must be by their own exertions; and, accordingly

assisted by the crew of the boat, they set to work, and, by dint of

perseverance and hard labour for about eighteen days, they arrived

at the doorway of that temple, which had, in all probability, been

covered with sand two thousand years, and which proved to be the

finest and most extensive in Nubia. Belzoni thus describes the

exterior of the temple of Ipsambul.

“The outside of this temple is magnificent. It is a hundred and

seventeen feet wide, and eighty-six feet high: the height from the

top of the cornice to the top of the door being sixty-six feet six

inches, and the height of the door twenty feet. There are four

enormous sitting colossi, the largest in Egypt or Nubia, except

the great sphinx at the pyramids, to which they approach in the

proportion of nearly two thirds. From the shoulder to the elbow they

measure fifteen feet six inches; the ears three feet six inches; the

face seven feet; the beard five feet six inches; across the shoulders

twenty-five feet four inches; their height is about fifty-one feet,

not including the caps, which are about fourteen feet.

[Illustration: ONE OF THE ENORMOUS SITTING COLOSSI.]

“There are only two of these colossi in sight: one is still buried

under the sand, and the other, which is near the door, is half fallen

down, and buried also. On the top of the door is a colossal figure

of Osiris, twenty feet high, with two colossal hieroglyphic figures,

one on each side, looking towards it. On the top of the temple is a

cornice with hieroglyphics, a torus and frieze under it. The cornice

is six feet wide, the frieze is four feet. Above the cornice is a

row of sitting monkeys eight feet high, and six feet wide across the

shoulders. They are twenty-one in number. This temple was nearly

two-thirds buried under the sand, of which we removed thirty-one feet

before we came to the upper part of the door. It must have had a very

fine landing-place, which is now totally buried under the sand. It is

the last and largest temple excavated in the solid rock in Nubia or

Egypt, except the new tomb in Beban el Molook.

“The heat on first entering the temple was so great that they could

scarcely bear it, and the perspiration from their hands was so

copious as to render the paper, by its dripping, unfit for use. On

the first opening that was made by the removal of the sand, the only

living object that presented itself was a toad of prodigious size.

Halls and chambers, supported by magnificent columns and adorned

with beautiful intaglios, paintings, and colossal figures, the walls

being covered partly with hieroglyphics, and partly with exhibitions

of battles, storming of castles, triumphs over the Ethiopians,

sacrifices, &c.—made up the striking interior.”

Nothing but the most extraordinary degree of enthusiasm could have

supported Belzoni in the numerous descents which he made into the

mummy pits of Egypt, and through the long narrow subterraneous

passages, particularly inconvenient for a man of his size—for he was

six feet and a half in height, and muscular in proportion.

“Of some of these tombs,” says he, “many persons could not withstand

the suffocating air, which often causes fainting. A vast quantity

of dust arises, so fine that it enters the throat and nostrils, and

chokes the nose and mouth to such a degree that it requires great

power of lungs to resist it and the strong effluvia of the mummies.

This is not all; the entry or passage where the bodies are is roughly

cut in the rocks, and the falling of the sand from the upper part

or ceiling of the passage causes it to be nearly filled up. In some

places there is not more than the vacancy of a foot left, which you

must contrive to pass through in a creeping posture like a snail, on

pointed and keen stones that cut like glass. After getting through

these passages, some of them two or three hundred yards long, you

generally find a more commodious place, perhaps high enough to sit.

But what a place of rest! surrounded by bodies, by heaps of mummies

in all directions, which, previous to my being accustomed to the

sight, impressed me with horror. The blackness of the wall, the faint

light given by the candles or torches for want of air, the different

objects that surrounded me seeming to converse with each other, and

the Arabs with the candles or torches in their hands, naked and

covered with dust, themselves resembling living mummies, absolutely

formed a scene that cannot be described. In such a situation I found

myself several times, and often returned exhausted and fainting, till

at last I became inured to it and indifferent to what I suffered,

except from the dust, which never failed to choke my throat and nose;

and though, fortunately, I am destitute of the sense of smelling,

I could taste that the mummies were rather unpleasant to swallow.

After the exertion of entering into such a place, through a passage

of fifty, a hundred, three hundred, or perhaps six hundred yards,

nearly overcome, I sought a resting-place, found one, and contrived

to sit; but when my weight bore on the body of an Egyptian, it

crushed it like a band-box. I naturally had recourse to my hands to

sustain my weight, but they found no better support, so that I sunk

altogether among the broken mummies, with a crash of bones, rags, and

wooden cases, which raised such a dust as kept me motionless for a

quarter of an hour waiting till it subsided again. I could not remove

from the place, however, without increasing it, and every step I took

I crushed a mummy in some part or other.

“Once I was conducted from such a place to another resembling it,

through a passage of about twenty feet in length, and no wider than

that a body could be forced through. It was choked with mummies, and

I could not pass without putting my face in contact with that of some

decayed Egyptian, but as the passage inclined downwards my own weight

helped me on; however, I could not avoid being covered with bones,

legs, arms, and heads rolling from above. Thus I proceeded from one

cave to another, all full of mummies piled up in various ways, some

standing, some lying, and some on their heads. The purpose of my

researches was to rob the Egyptians of their papyri, of which I found

a few hidden in their breasts, under their arms, in the space above

the knees, or on the legs, and covered by the numerous folds of cloth

that envelope the mummy. The people of Gournou, who make a trade of

antiquities of this sort, are very jealous of strangers, and keep

them as secret as possible, deceiving travellers by pretending that

they have arrived at the end of the pits when they are scarcely at

the entrance. I could never prevail on them to conduct me into these

places till this my second voyage, when I succeeded in obtaining

admission into any cave where mummies were to be seen.”

M. Drovetti, the French consul, had discovered a sarcophagus in a

cavern of the mountains of Gournou, but had endeavoured in vain to

get it out; he therefore acquainted Belzoni that he would present

him with it. This gave occasion to an adventure which possesses

much of the interest of romance in the recital. Mr. Belzoni entered

the cavern with two Arabs and an interpreter. He thus describes the

enterprise:—

“Previous to our entering the cave we took off the greater part of

our clothes, and, each having a candle, advanced through a cavity

in the rock, which extended a considerable length in the mountain,

sometimes pretty high, sometimes very narrow, and without any

regularity. In some passages we were obliged to creep on the ground,

like crocodiles. I perceived that we were at a great distance from

the entrance, and the way was so intricate that I depended entirely

on the two Arabs to conduct us out again. At length we arrived at a

large space into which many other holes or cavities opened; and after

some examination by the two Arabs, we entered one of these, which was

very narrow, and continued downward for a long way, through a craggy

passage, till we came where two other apertures led to the interior

in a horizontal direction. One of the Arabs then said, ‘This is the

place.’ I could not conceive how so large a sarcophagus as had been

described to me could have been taken through the aperture which

the Arab now pointed out. I had no doubt but these recesses were

burial-places, as we continually walked over skulls and other bones;

but the sarcophagus could never have entered this recess, for it was

so narrow that on my attempt to penetrate it I could not pass.

“One of the Arabs however succeeded, as did my interpreter; and

it was agreed that I and the other Arab should wait till they

returned. They proceeded evidently to a great distance, for the

light disappeared, and only a murmuring sound from their voices

could be distinguished as they went on. After a few moments I heard

a loud noise, and the interpreter distinctly crying, ‘O, my God, I

am lost!’ After which, a profound silence ensued. I asked my Arab

whether he had ever been in that place? He replied, ‘Never.’ I could

not conceive what could have happened, and thought the best plan

was to return, to procure help from the other Arabs. Accordingly, I

told my man to show me the way out again; but, staring at me like an

idiot, he said he did not know the road. I called repeatedly to the

interpreter, but received no answer. I watched a long time, but no

one returned; and my situation was no very pleasant one. I naturally

returned, through the passages by which we had come; and, after some

time, I succeeded in reaching the place where, as I mentioned, were

many cavities. It was a complete labyrinth, as all these places bore

a great resemblance to the one which we first entered. At last,

seeing one which appeared to be the right, we proceeded through it a

long way; but, by this time, our candles had diminished considerably,

and I feared that if we did not get out soon, we should have to

remain in the dark. Meantime, it would have been dangerous to put

one out to save the other, lest that which was left should, by some

accident, be extinguished. At this time we were considerably advanced

towards the outside, as we thought; but, to our sorrow, we found the

end of that cavity without any outlet.

“Convinced that we were mistaken in our conjecture, we quickly

returned towards the place of the various entries, which we strove

to regain. But we were then as perplexed as ever, and were both

exhausted from the ascents and descents, which we had been obliged

to go over. The Arab seated himself, but every moment of delay was

dangerous. The only expedient was to put a mark at the place out of

which we had just come, and then examine the cavities in succession,

by putting also a mark at their entrance, so as to know where we had

been. Unfortunately our candles would not last through the whole:

however, we began our operations.

“On the second attempt, when passing before a small aperture, I

thought I heard the sound of something like the roaring of the sea

at a distance. In consequence, I entered this cavity; and, as we

advanced, the noise increased, till I could distinctly hear a number

of voices all at one time. At last, thank God, we walked out; and

to my no small surprise, the first person I saw was my interpreter.

How he came to be there I could not conjecture. He told me that, in

proceeding with the Arab along the passage below, they came to a pit,

which they did not see; that the Arab fell into it, and in falling

put out both candles. It was then that he cried out, ‘I am lost!’ as

he thought he also should have fallen into the pit. But on raising

his head, he saw, at a great distance, a glimpse of daylight, towards

which he advanced, and thus arrived at a small aperture. He then

scraped away some loose sand and stones, to widen the place where

he came out, and went to give the alarm to the Arabs, who were at

the other entrance. Being all concerned for the man who fell to the

bottom of the pit, it was their noise that I heard in the cave. The

place by which my interpreter got out was instantly widened: and, in

the confusion, the Arabs did not regard letting me see that they were

acquainted with that entrance, and that it had lately been shut up.

I was not long in detecting their scheme. The Arabs had intended to

show me the sarcophagus, without letting me see the way by which it

might be taken out, and then to stipulate a price for the secret. It

was with this view they took me such a way round about.”

Of all the discoveries of Belzoni, the most magnificent was that of

a new tomb in the Beban el Molook, or Vale of the Tombs of Kings. “I

may call this,” says the traveller, “a fortunate day, one of the best

perhaps of my life: from the pleasure it afforded me of presenting

to the world a new and perfect monument of Egyptian antiquity, which

can be recorded as superior to any other in point of grandeur,

style, and preservation,—appearing as if just finished on the day

we entered it; and what I found in it,” he adds, “will show its

great superiority to all others.” Certain indications had convinced

him of the existence of a large and unopened sepulchre. Impressed

with this idea, he caused the earth to be dug away to the depth of

eighteen feet, when the entrance made its appearance. The passage,

however, was choked up with large stones, which were with difficulty

removed. A long corridor, with a painted ceiling, led to a staircase

twenty-three feet long, and nearly nine feet wide. At the bottom was

a door, twelve feet high; it opened into a second corridor of the

same width, thirty-seven feet long, the sides and ceiling finely

sculptured and painted. “The more I saw,” he says, “the more I was

eager to see.” His progress, however, was interrupted at the end

of this second corridor by a pit thirty feet deep and twelve wide.

Beyond this was perceived a small aperture of about two feet square

in the wall, out of which hung a rope reaching probably to the bottom

of the well; another rope fastened to a beam of wood stretching

across the passage, on this side also, hung into the well. One of

these ropes was unquestionably for the purpose of descending on one

side of the well, and the other for that of ascending on the opposite

side. Both the wood and the rope crumbled to dust on being touched.

By means of two beams, Belzoni contrived to cross this pit or

well, and to force a larger opening in the wall, beyond which was

discovered a third corridor of the same dimensions as the two former.

Those parts of the wood and rope which were on the further side of

this wall did not fall to dust, but were in a tolerably good state

of preservation, owing, as he supposed, to the dryness of the air in

these more distant apartments. The pit, he thought, was intended as

a sort of reservoir to receive the wet which might drain through the

ground between it and the external entrance.

“The sepulchre was now found to open into a number of chambers of

different dimensions, with corridors and staircases. Of the chambers,

the first was a beautiful hall, twenty-seven feet six inches by

twenty-five feet ten inches, in which were four pillars, each three

feet square. At the end of this room I call the Entrance-hall,” says

the famous discoverer, “is a large door, from which three steps lead

down into a chamber with two pillars. This is twenty-eight feet two

inches by twenty-five feet six inches. The pillars are three feet

ten inches square. I gave it the name of the Drawing-room; for it

is covered with figures, which, though only outlined, are so fine

and perfect, that you would think they had been drawn only the day

before. Returning into the Entrance-hall, we saw on the left of

the aperture a large staircase, which descended into a corridor.

It is thirteen feet four inches long, seven and a half wide, and

has eighteen steps. At the bottom we entered a beautiful corridor,

thirty-six feet six inches by six feet eleven inches. We perceived

that the paintings became more perfect as we advanced farther into

the interior. They retained their gloss, or a kind of varnish over

the colours, which had a beautiful effect. The figures are painted

on a white ground. At the end of this corridor we descended ten

steps, which I call the small stairs, into another, seventeen feet

two inches by ten feet five inches. From this we entered a small

chamber, twenty feet four inches by thirteen feet eight inches, to

which I gave the name of the Room of Beauties; for it is adorned with

the most beautiful figures in basso relievo, like all the rest, and

painted. When standing in the centre of this chamber, the traveller

is surrounded by an assembly of Egyptian gods and goddesses.

“Proceeding further, we entered a large hall, twenty-seven feet nine

inches by twenty-six feet ten inches. In this hall are two rows of

square pillars, three on each side of the entrance, forming a line

with the corridors. At each side of this hall is a small chamber.

This hall I termed the Hall of Pillars: the chamber on the right

Isis’ Room, as in it a large cow is painted: that on the left, the

Room of Mysteries, from the mysterious figures it exhibits. At the

end of this hall we entered a large saloon with an arched roof or

ceiling, which is separated from the Hall of Pillars only by a step,

so that the two may be reckoned one.

[Illustration: TEMPLE OF ISIS.]

“The saloon is thirty-one feet ten inches by twenty-seven feet. On

the right of the saloon is a small chamber without anything in it,

roughly cut, as if unfinished, and without painting: on the left we

entered a chamber with two square pillars, twenty-five feet eight

inches by twenty-two feet ten inches. This I called the Sideboard

Room, as it has a projection of three feet in a form of a sideboard

all round, which was perhaps intended to contain the articles

necessary for the funeral ceremony. The pillars are three feet four

inches square, and the whole beautifully painted as the rest. At the

same end of the room, and facing the Hall of Pillars, we entered

by a large door into another chamber with four pillars, one of

which is fallen down. This chamber is forty-three feet four inches

by seventeen feet six inches; the pillars three feet seven inches

square. It is covered with white plaster, where the rock did not cut

smoothly, but there is no painting on it. I named it the Bull’s, or

Apis’ Room, as we found the carcase of a bull in it, embalmed with

asphaltum; and also, scattered in various places, an immense quantity

of small wooden figures of mummies, six or eight inches long, and

covered with asphaltum to preserve them. There were some other

figures of fine earth baked, coloured blue, and strongly varnished.

On each side of the two little rooms were wooden statues standing

erect, four feet high, with a circular hollow inside, as if to

contain a roll of papyrus, which I have no doubt they did. We found

likewise fragments of other statues of wood and of composition.

“But the description of what we found in the centre of the saloon,

and which I have reserved till this place, merits the most particular

attention, not having its equal in the world, and being such as we

had no idea could exist. It is a sarcophagus of the finest oriental

alabaster, nine feet five inches long, and three feet seven inches

wide. Its thickness is only two inches; and it is transparent when a

light is placed inside of it. It is minutely sculptured within and

without with several hundred figures, which do not exceed two inches

in height, and represent, as I suppose, the whole of the funeral

procession and ceremonies relating to the deceased, united with

several emblems. I cannot give an adequate idea of this beautiful

and invaluable piece of antiquity, and can only say that nothing has

been brought into Europe from Egypt that can be compared with it. The

cover was not there; it had been taken out, and broken into several

pieces, which we found in digging before the first entrance. The

sarcophagus was over a staircase in the centre of the saloon, which

communicated in a subterraneous passage, leading downwards, three

hundred feet in length. At the end of this passage we found a great

quantity of bats’ dung, which choked it up, so that we could go no

further without digging. It was nearly filled up too by the falling

in of the upper part.”

This sarcophagus is now to be seen in Sir John Soane’s Museum,

Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The sight of it will richly repay the visitor.

Copies of the figures on the walls of the tomb are to be seen in the

Egyptian rooms of the British Museum, and form not the least striking

of its vast collection of curiosities.

Perhaps the most arduous of Belzoni’s enterprises was the opening

of the second pyramid of Ghiza, known by the name of Cephrenes,

as the largest pyramid is known by the name of Cheops. Herodotus,

the ancient Greek historian, was informed that this pyramid had no

subterranean chambers, and his information being found in latter

ages to be generally correct, may be supposed to have operated in

preventing that curiosity which prompted the opening of the great

pyramid of Cheops by Shaw. Belzoni, however, perceived certain

indications of sufficient weight to induce him to make the attempt.

“The opening of this pyramid,” says Mr. Salt, the English

consul-general, “had long been considered an object of so hopeless

a nature that it is difficult to conceive how any person could

be found sanguine enough to make the attempt; and even after the

discovery, with great labour, of the forced entrance, it required

great perseverance in Belzoni, and confidence in his own views, to

induce him to continue the operation, when it became evident that

the extensive labours of his predecessors in the enterprise had

completely failed. The direct manner in which he dug down upon the

door affords the most incontestable proof that chance had nothing to

do with the discovery itself, of which Belzoni has given a very clear

description.”

“On my return to Cairo,” says he, “I again went to visit the

celebrated pyramids of Ghiza; and on viewing that of Cephrenes I

could not help reflecting how many travellers of different nations,

who had visited this spot, contented themselves with looking at the

outside of the pyramid, and went away without inquiring whether

any and what chambers exist within it; satisfied, perhaps, with

the report of the Egyptian priests, ‘that the pyramid of Cheops

only contained chambers in its interior.’ I then began to consider

the possibility of opening this pyramid. The attempt was, perhaps,

presumptuous; and the risk of undertaking such an immense work

without success deterred me in some degree from the enterprise. I

am not certain whether love for antiquity, an ardent curiosity,

or ambition, spurred me on most in spite of every obstacle, but I

determined at length to commence the operation.

“I set out from Cairo on the 6th of February, 1818, under pretence of

going in quest of some antiquities at a village not far off, in order

that I might not be disturbed in my work by the people of Cairo. I

then repaired to the Kaiya Bey, and asked permission to work at the

pyramid of Ghiza, in search of antiquities. He made no objection,

but said that he wished to know if there was any ground about the

pyramid fit for tillage. I informed him that it was all stones, and

at a considerable distance from any tilled ground. He nevertheless

persisted in inquiring of the cachef of the province, if there was

any good ground near the pyramids; and after receiving the necessary

information, granted my request.

“Having thus acquired permission I began my labours on the 10th of

February, at a point on the north side, in a vertical section at

right angles to that side of the base. I saw many reasons against

my beginning there, but certain indications told me that there was

an entrance at that spot. I employed sixty labouring men, and began

to cut through the mass of stones and cement which had fallen from

the upper part of the pyramid; but it was so hard joined together

that the men spoiled several of their hatchets in the operation.

The stones which had fallen down along with the cement had formed

themselves into one solid and almost impenetrable mass. I succeeded,

however, in making an opening of fifteen feet wide, and continued

working downwards in uncovering the face of the pyramid. This work

took up several days, without the least prospect of meeting with

anything interesting. Meantime I began to fear that some of the

Europeans residing at Cairo might pay a visit to the pyramids, which

they do very often, and thus discover my retreat and interrupt my

proceedings.

“On the 17th of the same month we had made a considerable advance

downwards, when an Arab workman called out, making a great noise, and

saying that he had found the entrance. He had discovered a hole in

the pyramid into which he could just thrust his arm and a djerid of

six feet long. Towards the evening we discovered a larger aperture,

about three feet square, which had been closed in irregularly by a

hewn stone. This stone I caused to be removed, and then came to an

opening larger than the preceding, but filled up with loose stones

and sand. This satisfied me that it was not the real but a forced

passage, which I found to lead inwards and towards the south. The

next day we succeeded in entering fifteen feet from the outside,

when we reached a place where the sand and stones began to fall from

above. I caused the rubbish to be taken out, but it still continued

to fall in great quantities. At last, after some days’ labour, I

discovered an upper forced entrance, communicating with the outside

from above, and which had evidently been cut by some one who was in

search of the true passage. Having cleared this passage I perceived

another opening below, which apparently ran towards the centre of the

pyramid.

“In a few hours I was able to enter this passage, which runs

horizontally towards the centre of the pyramid, nearly all choked

up with stones and sand. These obstructions I caused to be taken

out, and at halfway from the entrance I found a descent, which also

had been forced, and which ended at the distance of forty feet. I

afterwards continued the work in the horizontal passage above, in

hopes that it might lead to the centre; but I was disappointed,

and at last was convinced that it ended there, and that to attempt

to advance that way would only incur the risk of sacrificing some

of my workmen, as it was really astonishing to see how the stones

hung suspended over their heads, resting perhaps by a single point;

indeed, one of these stones fell, and had nearly killed one of the

men. I therefore retired from the forced passage with great regret

and disappointment.

“Notwithstanding the discouragements I met with I recommenced my

researches on the following day, depending upon my indications. I

directed the ground to be cleared away to the eastward of the false

entrance; the stones, encrusted and bound together with cement,

were equally hard as the former, and we had as many large stones to

remove as before. By this time my retreat had been discovered, which

occasioned me many interruptions from visitors.

“On February 28, we discovered a block of granite in an inclined

direction towards the centre of the pyramid, and I perceived that the

inclination was the same as that of the passage of the first pyramid,

or that of Cheops; consequently I began to hope that I was near the

true entrance. On the 1st of March we observed three large blocks

of stone one upon the other, all inclined towards the centre; these

large stones we had to remove as well as others much larger, as we

advanced, which considerably retarded our approach to the desired

spot. I perceived, however, that I was near the true entrance, and,

in fact, the next day about noon, on the 2nd of March, was the epoch

at which the grand pyramid of Cephrenes was at last opened, after

being closed up so many centuries, that it remained an uncertainty

whether any interior chambers did or did not exist.”

Belzoni then gives a detailed description of the passages leading to

the great chamber of the pyramid. “On entering the great chamber,”

he continues, “I found it to be forty-six feet three inches long,

sixteen feet three inches wide, and twenty-three feet six inches

high, for the most part cut out of the solid rock (for this chamber

was at the bottom of the pyramid) except that part of the roof

towards the western end. In the midst we observed a sarcophagus of

granite partly buried in the ground to the level of the floor, eight

feet long, three feet six inches wide, and two feet three inches

deep inside, surrounded by large blocks of granite, being placed

apparently to guard it from being taken away, which could not be

effected without great labour. The lid of it had been opened; I found

in it only a few bones of a human skeleton, which merit preservation

as curious relics, they being in all probability those of Cephrenes,

the reported builder of the pyramid.”

[Illustration: TOMB OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.]

It is necessary, however, to inform the young reader that Belzoni,

being unversed in osteology, was mistaken here, and that these bones,

when examined by scientific men in London, were found to be those

of a cow; thus giving foundation for the theory that the bodies

of sacred animals, the representatives of the Egyptian gods, were

interred with extraordinary honours.

[Illustration: HEAD OF THE GREAT SPHYNX.]

To narrate all the enterprises of Belzoni would occupy volumes.

Let us allude but to one more. He uncovered the front of the great

Sphynx—that gigantic monument which has been synonymous with

“Mystery” from the remotest ages of history. Numerous pieces of

antiquity were as unexpectedly as extraordinarily developed by this

enterprise—pieces which, for many centuries, had not been exposed

to human eyes. Among other things, a beautiful temple, cut out of

one piece of granite, yet of considerable dimensions, was discovered

between the legs of the sphynx, having within it a sculptured lion

and a small sphynx. In one of the paws of the great sphynx was

another temple with a sculptured lion standing on an altar. In

front of the great sphynx were the remains of buildings, apparently

temples, and several granite slabs with inscriptions cut into them,

some entire and others broken. One of these is by Claudius Cæsar,

recording his visits to the pyramids, and another by Antoninus Pius,

both of which, with the little lions, are now in the British Museum.

[Illustration: STATUES AT LUXOR.]

CHAPTER V.

With the progress of civilization, Enterprise took more diversified

forms. First, man was summoned to display this commanding quality of

mind in the subjugation or destruction of the stronger and fiercer

animals; then he had to enter on the perilous adventure into strange

regions by land, and the hazardous transit of the ocean, in search

of still more unknown countries. We have just glanced at another

department of enterprise—the search for antiquities; and the subject

was placed in this order because it seemed naturally connected with

the perils of travel. But enterprise had taken a thousand forms

before men began to venture on great dangers for the attainment of

more certain knowledge of the past: the hewing of rocks and levelling

of forests, the disembowelling of mines, the construction of highways

and harbours, the erection of bridges and lighthouses, of Cyclopæan

piles and pyramids, of obelisks and columns, of aqueducts and walls

of cities—these, and a thousand other displays of strength, genius,

and skill, were among the “Triumphs of Enterprise” ages ago, and they

are now succeeded by the formation of railways, and the myriad-fold

enterprises of modern science.

How much would we not give for an authentic account of those

mysterious enterprises—the building of Stonehenge, of the round

towers of Ireland, and of the multitudinous “Druidical” monuments,

as they are termed, which are scattered in immense masses over Spain

and other parts of the continent? We are left to conjecture for

their origin, and our knowledge of it may never reach to certainty.

The venerable pyramids themselves are equally mysterious, both as

it regards the purposes for which they were erected and the means

of erecting them. The Cyclopæan masses of stone which form the

foundations of the ruined temple at Balbec (masses which dwarf the

stones of the Pyramids), as well as the recently discovered remains

in Central America, stretch back into the far past, and also puzzle

and confound all human judgment and reckoning.

[Illustration: STONEHENGE.]

Again, even of some of the more recent erections of antiquity,

opinion is divided as to the true cause of carrying out such

enterprises. In this predicament antiquarian criticism places the

Roman aqueducts—those immense structures, formed often of several

miles of arches, on which water was conveyed over valleys. From a

passage in Pliny it is argued that the Romans were really acquainted

with the hydrostatic truth that water will rise to its own level;

that these immense edifices were erected rather from reasons of state

policy than from ignorance, the construction of them serving to

employ turbulent spirits. All this, however, is doubtful, and it may

be that real ignorance stimulated the Romans to carry on and complete

these gigantic undertakings which abound in their empire. One, it

may be observed, which was begun by Caius Cæsar, but completed by

Claudius, and therefore called the Claudian aqueduct, was forty

miles in length, and was raised sufficiently to distribute water over

the seven hills of the imperial mistress of the world.

[Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE AT BALBEC.]

But above all the civil enterprises of the Romans we ought to place

their roads; these grand and enduring highways, indeed, stamped

Europe with a new feature, and the civilized likeness thus impressed

on her was not effaced until railroads gave the initiative to a

new civilization. We cannot refrain from quoting Gibbon’s masterly

description of the Roman highways; it occurs after he has been

depicturing the subordinate Roman capitals in Asia Minor, Syria,

and Egypt:—“All these cities were connected with each other and

with the capital by the public highways, which, issuing from the

Forum at Rome, traversed Italy, pervaded the provinces, and were

terminated only by the frontiers of the empire. If we carefully trace

the distance from the wall of Antoninus (in Scotland) to Rome, and

from thence to Jerusalem, it will be found that the great chain of

communication from the north-west to the south-east point of the

empire was drawn out to the length of 4080 Roman (or 3740 English)

miles. The public roads were accurately divided by milestones, and

ran in a direct line from one city to another, with very little

respect for the obstacles either of nature or private property.

Mountains were perforated, and bold arches thrown over the broadest

and most rapid streams; the middle part of the road was raised into a

terrace which commanded the adjacent country, consisting of several

strata of sand, gravel, and cement, and was paved with large stones,

or, in some places near the capital, with granite. Such was the

solid construction of the Roman highways, whose firmness has not

entirely yielded to the effect of fifteen centuries. They united

the subjects of the most distant provinces by an easy and familiar

intercourse; but their primary object had been to facilitate the

marches of the legions, nor was any country considered as completely

subdued till it had been rendered in all its parts pervious to the

arms and authority of the conqueror. The advantage of receiving the

earliest intelligence, and of conveying their orders with celerity,

induced the emperors to establish throughout their extensive

dominions the regular institution of posts. Houses were everywhere

erected at the distance of five or six miles; each of them was

constantly provided with forty horses, and by the help of these

relays it was easy to travel a hundred miles in a day along the Roman

roads. The use of the posts was allowed to those who claimed it by

an imperial mandate; but though originally intended for the public

service, it was sometimes indulged to the business or conveniency of

private citizens.”

[Illustration: ST. PETER’S AT ROME.]

From other accounts we learn that the Roman roads varied in

importance and uses. The great lines were called “Prætorian ways,”

as being under the direction of the prætors, and those formed the

roads for military intercourse. Other lines were exclusively adapted

for commerce or civil intercourse, and were under the direction of

consuls. Both kinds were formed in a similar manner. The plan on

which they were made was more calculated for durability than ease

to the traveller, and for our modern wheel carriages they would be

found particularly objectionable. Whatever was their entire breadth

the centre constituted the beaten track, and was made of large

ill-dressed stones laid side by side to form a compact mass of from

twelve to twenty feet broad, and therefore in their external aspect

they were but coarse stone causeways.

Some of the Roman roads had double lines of this solid pavement, with

a smooth brick path for foot passengers, and at intervals along the

sides there were elevated stones on which travellers could rest, or

from which cavalry could easily mount their horses. One important

feature in the construction of all the Roman roads was the bottoming

of them with solid materials. Their first operation seems to have

been the removal of all loose earth or soft matter which might work

upwards to the surface, and then they laid courses of small stones

or broken tiles and earthenware, with a course of cement above, and

upon that were placed the heavy stones for the causeway; thus a

more substantial and durable pavement was formed, the expense being

defrayed from the public treasury. Various remains of Roman roads

of this kind still exist in France, and also in different parts

of Britain. One of the chief Roman thoroughfares, in an oblique

direction across the country from London to the western part of

Scotland, was long known by the name of Watling Street, and the name

has been perpetuated in the appellation of one of the streets of the

metropolis.

In the construction of their amphitheatres and other places of public

amusement, the Romans far transcended modern nations, in none of

which does a theatre exist of dimensions at all comparable with those

of the cities in the Roman empire. The ruins of the Colosseum, in

Rome itself, are the source of wonder to every visitor. The beautiful

lines of Byron on these magnificent remains of Roman civilization are

well known.

Respecting numerous other enterprises of the ancient world,

interesting but imperfect accounts remain. Such are the narratives

of what were termed the “Seven Wonders of the World.” It is time,

however, to leave antiquity—or, at least, classic antiquity—to speak

of one wondrous enterprise—that of a nation at the very “ends of the

earth,” of whom indeed many wonders are told.

Bell, the enterprising traveller, presents, perhaps, the clearest

account of the celebrated “Great Wall of China.”

“On the 2nd of November, 1720, about noon,” says he, “we could

perceive the famous wall, running along the tops of the mountains,

towards the north-east. One of our people cried out ‘land!’ as if

we had been all this while at sea. It was now, as nearly as I can

compute, about forty English miles from us, and appeared white at

this distance. The appearance of it, running from one high rock

to another, with square towers at certain intervals, even at this

distance is most magnificent.”

In two days they arrived at the foot of this mighty barrier, and

entered through a great gate into China. Here a thousand men were

perpetually on guard, by the officers commanding whom they were

received with much politeness, and invited to tea.

“The long, or endless wall, as it is commonly called,” continues

Bell, “encompasses all the north and west parts of China. It was

built about six hundred years ago by one of the emperors, to prevent

the frequent incursions of the Mongols and other western Tartars, who

made a practice of assembling numerous troops of horse and invading

the country in different places. The Chinese frontiers were too

extensive to be guarded against such bold and numerous enemies, who,

after plundering and destroying a wealthy country, returned to their

own loaded with spoils.

“The Chinese, finding all precautions ineffectual to put a stop to

the inroads of such barbarians, at last resolved to build this

famous wall. It begins in the province of Leotong, at the bottom of

the Bay of Nankin, and proceeds across rivers, and over the tops of

the highest mountains, without interruption, keeping nearly along the

circular ridge of barren rocks that surround the country to the north

and west; and, after running southwards about twelve hundred English

miles, ends in impassable mountains and sandy deserts.

[Illustration: PART OF THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA.]

This is an engraving of a small portion of this wonderful work. At

the top is represented a piece of the wall, with one of the towers,

as it is seen by a person standing on the ground. Immediately under

it is a bird’s-eye view of the same, representing the dimensions and

position of the tower, in relation to the wall. And on the left side

is a section which shows how the masonry is constructed—of two walls

getting thinner towards the top, and the intermediate space filled in

with work of a rougher kind.

“The foundation consists of large blocks of square stones, laid

in mortar; but the rest of the wall is built of brick. The whole

is so strong and well built as to need almost no repair, and, in

such a dry climate, may remain in this condition for many ages. Its

height and breadth are not equal in every place; nor, indeed, is

it necessary they should. When carried over steep rocks, where no

horse can pass, it is about fifteen or twenty feet high, and broad

in proportion; but, when running through a valley, or crossing a

river, there you see a strong wall, about thirty feet high, with

square towers at the distance of a bow-shot from one another, and

embrasures at equal distances. The top of the wall is flat, and

paved with broad freestones; and where it rises over a rock, or any

eminence, you ascend by a fine easy stone stair. The bridges over

rivers and torrents are exceedingly neat, being both well contrived

and executed. They have two stories of arches, one above another, to

afford sufficient passage for the waters on sudden rains and floods.”

Bell was also informed by the Chinese that this wall was completed

within the space of five years; every sixth man in the empire having

been compelled to work at it, or find a substitute. The date of

its erection, however, is considered uncertain; and therefore this

account may also be untrue. Gibbon gives the third century before

the Christian era as the date of its construction, and assigns it a

length of fifteen hundred miles. Du Pauw reduces the length to four

hundred and fifty miles, not choosing to consider the western branch,

“which,” he says, “is of earth, worthy the name of a wall.” Many

writers judge it to be a very recent work, or, at least, of as modern

a date as on this side the thirteenth century, since it is not

mentioned by Marco Polo. Yet _tea_ is not mentioned by him, although

the Chinese have used it for thousands of years. If it be true that

much of Marco Polo’s manuscript was destroyed because his friends

ignorantly believed his wondrous relations (such as the burning of a

“black stone,” or coal, by the Chinese, for fuel) to be false, the

omission of allusions to the Great Wall, in _our_ copies of Marco

Polo will be no argument against its antiquity.

Next to the Great Wall, the Porcelain Tower of Nankin is usually

classed as the great marvel of China. The following curious

description of this temple of Boudh, for such the porcelain pagoda

is, was purchased in the city of Nankin, on the return of one of our

English embassies, and was first published in a leading periodical,

which was furnished with a translation by Sir George Staunton, the

celebrated scholar and traveller.

“The Dwelling of Security, Tranquillity, and Peace. The

representation of the precious glazed tower of the Temple of

Gratitude, in the province of Kiang-Nan.

“This work was commenced at noon, on the fifteenth day of the sixth

moon, of the tenth year of the Emperor Yong Lo (1413 of the Christian

era), of the Dynasty of Ming, and was completed on the first day of

the eighth moon, of the sixth year of the Emperor Siuen Té, of the

same dynasty, being altogether a period of nineteen years in building.

“The sum of money expended in completing the precious glazed tower

was two millions four hundred and eighty-five thousand, four

hundred and eighty-four ounces of silver. In the construction of

the ornamental globe on the pinnacle of the roof of the tower,

forty-eight _kin_ (one pound and one-third) in weight of gold

(sixty-four pounds), and one thousand four hundred _kin_ in weight of

copper were consumed. The circumference of this globe is thirty-six

_che_ (about fourteen inches). Each round or story is eighteen _che_

high. In that part of the tower called the quang were consumed four

thousand eight hundred and seventy _kin_ weight of brass. The iron

hoops or rings on the pinnacle of the roof are nine in number, and

sixty-three _che_ each in circumference. The smaller hoops are

twenty-four _che_ in circumference, and their total weight is three

thousand six hundred _kin_.

“On different parts of the tower are suspended eighty-one iron bells,

each bell weighing twelve _kin_, or sixteen pounds. There are also

nine iron chains, each of which weighs one hundred and fifty _kin_,

and is eighty _che_ long. The copper pan with two mouths to it on the

roof is estimated to weigh nine hundred _kin_, and is sixty _che_ in

circumference. There is also a celestial plate on the top weighing

four hundred and sixty _kin_, and twenty _che_ in circumference. In

the upper part of the tower are preserved the following articles:—Of

night-illuminating pearls, one string; of water-repelling pearls,

one string; of fire-repelling pearls, one string; of dust-repelling

pearls, one string; and over all these is a string of Fo’s relics.

Also an ingot of solid gold, weighing forty _leang_ (ounces), and

one hundred _kin_ weight of tea; of silver, one thousand _leang_

weight; of the bright huing, two pieces, weighing one hundred _kin_;

of precious stones, one string; of the everlasting physic-money, one

thousand strings; of yellow satin, two pieces; of the book hidden in

the earth, one copy; of the book of Omitd Fo, one copy; of the book

of She Kia Fo, one copy; of the book of Tsie Yin Fo, one copy; all

wrapped up together, and preserved in the temple.

“The tower has eight sides or faces, and its circumference is two

hundred and forty _che_. The nine stories taken together are two

hundred and twenty-eight and a half _che_ high. From the highest

story to the extreme point of the pinnacle of the roof are one

hundred and twenty _che_. The lamps within the tower are seven times

seven in number, in all forty-nine lamp-dishes, and on the outside

there are one hundred and twenty-eight lamp-dishes. Each night

they are supplied with fifty _kin_ weight of oil. Their splendour

penetrates upwards to the thirty-third heaven—mid-way; they shed a

lustre over the people, the good and bad together—downwards; they

illuminate the earth as far as the City of Tse Kee Hien, in the

Province of Che-Kiang.

“The official title of the head priest of the temple is Chao Sieu.

His disciples are called Yue. The total number of priests on the

establishment is eight hundred and fifty. The family name of the head

mason of the building was Yao, his personal name Sieu, and his native

town Tsing Kiang Foo. The family name of the head carpenter was Hoo,

his personal name Chung, and his native province Kiang See.

“The extent of the whole enclosure of the temple is seven hundred and

seventy _meu_ (somewhat less than an English acre) and eight-tenths.

To the southward, towards Chin Van San, are two hundred and

twenty-six _meu_. Eastward, to the boundary of Chin Sien Seng, are

two hundred and thirty-four _meu_ and eight-tenths. In the centre is

the ground of Hoo Kin Te. Westward, as far as the land of She Hon

Hoa, are one hundred and twenty _meu_. And northward, to the land of

Lien Sien Song, are one hundred and eighty _meu_.

“Viewing, therefore, this History of the Glazed Tower, may it not be

considered as the work of a Divinity? Who shall perform the like?

“Lately, on the fifteenth day of the fifth moon, of the fifth year of

Kia King, at four in the morning, the God of Thunder, in his pursuit

of a monstrous dragon, followed it into this temple, struck three of

the sides of the fabric, and materially damaged the ninth story; but

the strength and majesty of the God of the temple are most potent,

and the laws of Fo are not subject to change. The tower, by his

influence, was therefore saved from entire destruction. The Viceroy

and the Foo-Yen reported the circumstance to his imperial majesty;

and, on the sixth day of the second moon of the seventh year, the

restoration of the damaged parts was commenced, and on the nineteenth

day of the fifth moon the repairs were completed.

“On the twenty-ninth day of the sixth moon of the twelfth year of his

present majesty, at four in the afternoon, on a sudden there fell

a heavy shower of rain, and the God of Thunder again rushed forth

in front of the tower, and, penetrating the roof, pursued the great

dragon from the top to the bottom. The glazed porcelain tiles of the

sixth story were much damaged, and where the God of Thunder issued

out at the great gate several of the boards taken from the wood of

the heavenly flower-tree were broken. Thus, the God of Thunder,

having finally driven away the monstrous dragon, returned to his

place in the heavens.

“The priests of the temple reported the event to the local

authorities, and the officer Hen submitted the report to his Imperial

Majesty, and awaited the issue of the sums required to defray the

charge of the repairs. The gates of the tower have been closed for a

year while the interior has been repairing.

“‘Deny not the presence of a God—a God there is;

He sounds his dread thunder, and all the world trembles.’”

Such is the singular register of the Porcelain Pagoda at Nankin.

The terraced mountains have been often mentioned as another wonder

of China; but recent travellers declare that these enterprises are

exceedingly few in the “flowery” land.

To revert to Europe; the great difficulty is to select the themes of

Enterprise. Here is one, however, of a somewhat rude, but yet highly

adventurous, and also highly useful kind. It is a sketch of a Swiss

wonder—the famous “Slide of Alpnach.”

For many centuries the rugged flanks and deep gorges of Mount Pilatus

were covered by impenetrable forests; lofty precipices encircled

them on all sides. Even the daring hunters were scarcely able to

reach them, and the inhabitants of the valley never conceived the

idea of disturbing them with the axe. These immense forests were

therefore allowed to grow and perish, the most intelligent and

skilful considering it quite impracticable to avail themselves of

such inaccessible stores.

In November, 1816, Mr. John Rulph, of Rentingen, and three other

Swiss gentlemen, entertaining more sanguine hopes, drew up a plan

of a slide, founded on trigonometrical measurements; and, having

purchased a certain extent of the forests from the commune of Alpnach

for 6000 crowns, began the construction of it.

The slide of Alpnach was formed of about 25,000 large pine trees,

deprived of their bark, and united together without the aid of iron.

It occupied about one hundred and sixty workmen during eighteen

months, and cost nearly one hundred thousand francs, or 4166_l._ It

was about three leagues, or 44,000 English feet long, and terminated

in the Lake of Lucerne. It had the form of a trough about six feet

broad, and from three to six deep. Its bottom was formed of three

trees, the middle one of which had a groove cut out in the direction

of its length, for receiving small rills of water for the purpose

of diminishing the friction. The whole slide was sustained by about

two thousand supports, and in many places was attached in a very

ingenious manner to the rugged precipices of granite. The direction

of the slide was sometimes straight and sometimes zigzag, with an

inclination of from ten to eighteen degrees. It was often carried

along the sides of precipitous rocks, and sometimes over their

summits; occasionally it passed underground, and at other times over

the deep gorges by scaffoldings one hundred and twenty feet high.

Before any step could be taken in its erection it was necessary

to cut several thousand trees to obtain a passage through the

impenetrable thickets; and as the workmen advanced, men were posted

at certain distances in order to point out the road for their return.

Mr. Rulph was often obliged to be suspended by cords, in order to

descend precipices many hundred feet high, to give directions, having

scarcely two good carpenters among his men, they having been hired as

the occasion offered.

All difficulties being at length surmounted, the larger pines, which

were about one hundred feet long, and ten inches thick at their

smaller extremity, ran through the space of _three leagues_, or

_nearly nine miles_, in _three minutes and a half_; and, during their

descent, appeared to be only a few feet in length. The arrangements

were extremely simple. Men were posted at regular distances along

the slide, and as soon as everything was ready the man at the bottom

called out to the next one above him, “_Lachez!_”—Let go! The cry

was repeated, and reached the top of the slide in three minutes; the

man at the top of the slide then cried out to the one below, “_Il

vient!_”—It comes! As soon as the tree had reached the bottom, and

plunged into the lake, the cry of “_Lachez!_” was repeated as before.

By these means a tree descended every five or six minutes. When a

tree, by accident, escaped from the trough of the slide, it often

penetrated by its thickest extremity from eighteen to twenty-four

feet into the earth, and if it struck another tree, it cleft it with

the rapidity of lightning.

Such was the enterprising work undertaken and executed under the

direction of a single individual. This wondrous structure, however,

no longer exists, and scarcely a tree is to be seen on the flanks

of Mount Pilatus. Political events having taken away the demand

for timber, and another market having been found, the operation of

cutting and transporting the trees necessarily ceased.

Let us now glance at the enterprise of erecting a more durable

monument. Russia, proud of her Czar, the celebrated Peter the Great,

wished to erect a monument to his memory. Catherine the Second was

the monarch who had the direction of the work, and her choice for an

artist fell upon M. Falconet, who, in his conception of an equestrian

statue, resolved that the subordinate parts should bear an equal

impress of genius. “The pedestals in general use,” he observed,

“had no distinctive feature, and adapt themselves equally well to

any subject. Being of so universal application they suggest no new

or elevated thoughts to the beholder.” Falconet wished to make the

Czar appear as the father and legislator of his people—great and

extraordinary in everything—undertaking and completing that which

others were unable to imagine. To carry out this conception a

precipitous rock was fixed on for the pedestal, on which the statue

should appear with characteristics distinguishing it from those

erected to other sovereigns.

Falconet’s first idea was to form this pedestal of six masses of

rock, bound together with bars of iron or copper; but the objection

was urged, that the natural decay of the bands would cause a

disruption of the various parts, and present a ruinous aspect, while

it would be difficult to insure perfect uniformity in the quality and

appearance of the different blocks. The next proposal was to form it

of one whole rock; but this appeared impossible, and in a report to

the senate it was stated that the expense would be so enormous as

almost to justify the abandonment of the undertaking. At length it

was resolved to bring to the city of St. Petersburg the largest rock

that could be found, cost what it might.

The search for a huge mass of rock was begun, but the whole summer

was passed in vain exploration. The idea of forming the pedestal of

several pieces had again been entertained, when an immense stone was

discovered near Cronstadt, which it was determined to use as the

principal mass. Various mechanics having been applied to, refused

to undertake the task of removing this stone, as did likewise the

Russian Admiralty.

Fortunately for M. Falconet, he was acquainted with a native of

Cephalonia, who had assumed the name of Lascary, and who, while

serving in the corps of cadets, had given high proofs of mechanic

skill. Lascary had all along strenuously recommended the adoption of

the original design, and now undertook the formation of the pedestal.

A few days after his appointment to this commission he received

information from a peasant of a large rock lying in a marsh near a

bay in the Gulf of Finland, about twenty miles from St. Petersburg

by water. The stone was examined, and the base, by sounding around

it, was found to be flat. It was a parallelopipedon in form, and

was forty-two feet long, twenty-seven feet wide, and twenty-one

feet high. These were dimensions sufficiently extensive to realise

the conceptions of M. Falconet. The authorities, when the mass was

beheld, again recommended its being cut into separate portions for

convenient removal. The Empress Catherine and her minister Betzky,

were, however, on the side of Lascary, and orders were imperatively

given to commence the strange enterprise.

The resolution was taken by M. Lascary to remove the stone without

the use of rollers, as these not only present a long surface, which

increases the friction and thereby impedes speed, but are not easily

made of the great diameter that would have been required owing to

the soft and yielding nature of the ground on which the work was to

be performed. Spherical bodies, revolving in a metallic groove, were

then chosen as the means of transport. These offered many advantages;

their motion is more prompt than that of rollers, with a less degree

of friction, as they present but small points of contact. Beams

of wood, of a foot square, and thirty-three feet in length, were

then prepared; one side was hollowed in the form of a gutter, and

lined, the sides being convex to the thickness of two inches, with

a composition of copper and tin. Balls of the same composite metal,

five inches in diameter, were then made, to bear only on the bottom

of the groove. These beams were intended to be placed on the ground

in a line in front of the stone, while upon them were reversed two

other beams prepared in a similar manner, each forty-two feet long

and one foot and a half square, connected as a frame by stretchers

and bars of iron fourteen feet in length, carefully secured by nuts,

screws, and bolts.

A load of three thousand pounds, when placed on the working model

(which had been first constructed) was found to move with ease.

Betzky, the minister, was pleased with the exhibition of the model;

but the crowds who came to witness it cried, “A mountain upon eggs!”

But Lascary was not to be driven from his purpose, so intelligently

formed, by a little unthinking clamour.

The rock lay in a wild and deserted part of the country, and

therefore the first thing to be done was to build barracks capable

of accommodating four hundred labourers, artisans, and others.

These, with M. Lascary, were all lodged on the spot, as the readiest

means of forwarding the work. From the rock to the river Neva a line

of road was then cleared a distance of six versts, or twenty-one

thousand English feet, to a width of one hundred and twenty feet, in

order to gain space for the various operations and to give a free

circulation of air, so essential to the health of workmen in a marshy

district, as well as to the drying and freezing of the ground—a

point of much importance when the enormous weight to be removed is

considered. The operation of disinterring the rock was commenced in

December, when the influence of the frosts began to be felt. It was

embedded to the depth of fifteen feet; the excavation required to

be of great width—eighty-four feet all round—to admit of turning the

stone, which did not lie in the most favourable position for removal.

An inclined plane, six hundred feet in length, was afterwards made,

by means of which, when the stone was turned, it might be drawn up to

the level surface.

Objectors said it would be impossible to place the monster mass of

rock upon the machine destined to transport it; but Lascary was

still unshaken. Preferring simplicity to complication, he resolved

to employ ordinary levers, known technically as levers of the first

order. These were made of three masts, each sixty-five feet in

length, and a foot and a half in diameter at the larger end, firmly

bound together. To lessen the difficulty of moving these, triangles

of thirty feet high were erected, with windlasses attached near the

base, from which a cord, passing through a pulley at the top, was

fastened to the smaller end of the lever, which being drawn up to the

top of the triangle, was ready for the operation of turning; each of

these levers was calculated to raise a weight of two hundred thousand

pounds.

A row of piles had been driven into the ground at the proper distance

from the stone on one side, to serve as a fulcrum; and on the other a

series of piles were disposed as a platform, to prevent the sinking

of the mass on its descent. Twelve levers, with three men to each,

were stationed at the side to be lifted, and the lower extremities

being placed under the mass, the upper ends were drawn downwards by

the united action of the twelve windlasses. When the stone rose to

the height of a foot, beams and wedges were then driven underneath

to maintain it in that position, while the levers were arranged for

a second lift. To assist the action of the levers, large iron rings

were soldered into the upper corner of the rock, from which small

cables were passed to four capstans, each turned by thirty-six men,

thus maintaining a steady strain, while the stone was prevented from

returning to its original position when the levers were shifted.

These operations were repeated until the rock was raised nearly to

an equipoise, when cables from six other capstans were attached to

the opposite side, to guard against a too sudden descent; and as a

further precaution against fracture, a bed six feet in thickness, of

hay and moss intermingled, was placed to receive the rock, on which

it was at length happily laid. As it was of great importance that all

the workmen should act at one and the same time, two drummers were

stationed on the top of the stone, who, at a sign from the engineer,

gave the necessary signals on their drums, and secured the certainty

of order and precision in the various operations.

The machinery for the removal had, in the meantime, been finished. Of

the lower grooved beams already described, six pairs were prepared,

so that when the rock had advanced over one pair they might be drawn

forward and placed in a line in advance of the foremost, without

interrupting the movements. The balls were laid in the grooves two

feet apart; the upper frame, intended as the bed for the rock, placed

above. The mass, weighing in its original form four millions of

pounds, or nearly eighteen hundred tons, was then raised by means of

powerful screws, and deposited on the frame, when it was drawn up

the inclined plane by the united force of six capstans. The road did

not proceed in a direct line to the river, owing to the soft state

of portions of the marsh. It was impossible in many places to reach

a firm foundation with piles fifty feet in length. This naturally

added to the difficulties of the transport, as the direction of the

draught had frequently to be changed. Piles were driven along the

whole line on both sides, at distances of three hundred feet apart;

to these the cables were made fast, while the capstans revolved, two

of which were found sufficient to draw the stone on a level surface,

while on unequal ground four were required. From five hundred to

twelve hundred feet were got over daily, which, when regard is had

to the short winter days of five hours in that high latitude, may be

considered as rapid.

So interesting was the spectacle of the enormous mass when moving,

with the two drummers at their posts, the forge erected on it

continually at work, and forty workmen constantly employed in

reducing it to a regular form, that the empress and the court visited

the spot to see the novel sight; and notwithstanding the rigour of

the season, crowds of persons of all ranks went out every day as

spectators. Small flat sledges were attached to each side of the

stone by ropes, on which were seated men provided with iron levers,

whose duty it was to prevent the balls, of which fifteen on a side

were used, from striking against each other and thus impeding the

motion. The tool-house was also attached, and moved with the stone,

in order that everything might be ready to hand when wanted. Balls

and grooves of cast-iron were tried, but this material crumbled into

fragments as readily as if made with clay. No metal was found to

bear the weight so well as the mixture of copper and tin, and even

with this the balls were sometimes flattened and the grooves curled

up when the pressure by any accident became unequal. The utility of

rollers was also tried; but with double the number of capstans and

the power, the cables broke, while the stone did not advance one inch.

Suddenly the enterprise was checked by the sinking of the stone

to a depth of eighteen inches in the road, to the chagrin of the

engineer, who was suffering under a severe attack of marsh fever.

Lascary, however, was not disheartened, and speedily remedied the

accident, spite of the idle clamours of the multitude; and in six

weeks from the time of first drawing the stone from its bed, he had

the satisfaction of seeing it safely deposited on the temporary wharf

built for the purpose of embarkation on the banks of the river, when

the charge fell into the hands of the Admiralty, who had undertaken

the transport by water to the city.

The Russian Admiralty had ordered a vessel or barge one hundred and

eighty feet in length, sixty-six feet in width, and seventeen feet

from deck to keel, to be built, with every appliance that skill could

suggest to render it capable of supporting the enormous burthen.

Great precautions were now necessary to prevent the rock falling

into the stream. Water was let into the vessel until she sank to

the bottom of the river, which brought her deck on a level with the

wharf; the rock was then drawn on board by means of two capstans

placed on the deck of another vessel anchored at some distance from

the shore. Pumps and buckets were now brought into use to clear

the barge of the water with which she had been filled; but, to

the surprise and consternation of those engaged, she did not rise

equally; the centres bearing most of the weight remained at the

bottom, while the head and stern springing up gave to the whole the

form of a sharp curve; the timbers gave way, and, the seams opening,

the water re-entered rapidly; four hundred men were then set to bale,

in order that every part might be simultaneously cleared; but the

curve became greater in proportion to the diminution of the internal

volume of water.

Lascary, who, from the time the rock had been placed on the deck of

the vessel, had been a simple spectator of these operations, which

occupied two weeks, now received orders to draw it again upon the

wharf. He immediately applied himself to remedy the error, which

had been committed in not distributing the weight equally, without

removing the stone. He first caused the head and stern of the barge

to be loaded with large stones, until they sank to a level with

the centre; the rock was then raised by means of screws and beams

of timber, diverging to every part of the vessel, placed under and

against it, and, on the removal of the screws, the pressure being

equal in every part, she regained her original form. The water

was next pumped out, the stones removed from the head and stern,

and a ship lashed on each side of the barge, which on the 22nd of

September, 1769, arrived opposite the quay where it was intended to

erect the statue. The rock was raised from the spot where it was

first found at the end of March preceding.

The debarkation—not the least hazardous part of the enterprise—had

yet to be accomplished. As the river was here of a greater depth than

at the place of embarkation, rows of piles had been driven into the

bottom alongside the quay, and cut off level at a distance of eight

feet below the surface. On these the barge was rested; to prevent

the recurrence of the rising of the head and stern when the supports

should be removed, three masts lashed together, crossing the deck at

each extremity, were secured to the surface of the quay. It was then

feared that, as the rock approached the shore, the vessel might heel

and precipitate it into the river. This was obviated by fixing six

other masts to the quay, which projected across the whole breadth

of the deck, and were made fast to a vessel moored outside, thus

presenting a counterpoise to the weight of the stone. The grooved

beams were laid ready, the cables secured, and, at the moment of

removing the last support, the drummers beat the signal, the men

at the capstans ran round with a cheer, the barge heeled slightly,

which accelerated the movement, and in an instant the rock was safety

landed on the quay.

The whole expense of the removal of this gigantic rock was about

70,000 roubles, or 14,000_l._, while the materials which remained

were worth two-thirds of the sum.

[Illustration: Horse and rider statue]

Dr. Granville, in his “Travels to St. Petersburg,” describing the

public promenade in front of the Admiralty in that city, says, “Here

the colossal equestrian statue of the founder of this magnificent

city, placed on a granite rock, seems to command the undivided

attention of the stranger. On approaching the rock, the simple

inscription fixed on it in bronze letters, ‘Petro Primo, Catherina

Secunda, MDCCLXXXII,’ meets the eye. The same inscription in the

Russian language appears on the opposite side. The area is inclosed

within a handsome railing placed between granite pillars. The idea of

Falconet, the French architect, commissioned to erect an equestrian

statue to the extraordinary man at whose command a few scattered

huts of fishermen were converted into palaces, was to represent the

hero as conquering, by enterprise and personal courage, difficulties

almost insurmountable. This the artist imagined might be properly

represented by placing Peter on a fiery steed which he is supposed

to have taught by skill, management, and perseverance, to rush up a

steep and precipitous rock, to the very brink of the precipice, over

which the animal and the imperial rider pause, without fear, and in

an attitude of triumph. The horse rears with his fore-feet in the

air, and seems to be impatient of restraint, while the sovereign,

turned towards the island, surveys with calm and serene countenance

his capital rising out of the waters, over which he extends the hand

of protection. The bold manner in which the group has been made to

rest on the hind legs of the horse only, is not more surprising than

the skill with which advantage is taken of the allegorical figure of

the serpent of envy spurned by the horse, to assist in upholding so

gigantic a mass. This monument of bronze is said to have been cast at

a single jet. The head was modelled by Mademoiselle Calot, a female

artist of great merit, a contemporary of Falconet, and is admitted to

be a strong resemblance of Peter the Great. The height of the figure

of the emperor is eleven feet; that of the horse seventeen feet.

The bronze is in the thinnest parts the fourth of an inch only, and

one inch in the thickest part; the general weight of metal in the

group is equal to 36,636 English pounds. I heard a venerable Russian

nobleman, who was living at St. Petersburg when this monument was in

progress, relate that as soon as the artist had formed his conception

of the design he communicated it to the empress, together with the

impossibility of representing to nature so striking a position of

man and animal, without having before his eyes a horse and rider in

the attitude he had devised. General Melissino, an officer having

the reputation of being the most expert as well as boldest rider of

the day, to whom the difficulties of the architect were made known,

offered to ride daily one of Count Alexis Orloff’s best Arabians

out of that nobleman’s stud, to the summit of a steep artificial

mound formed for the purpose, accustoming the horse to gallop up to

it and to halt suddenly, with his fore-legs raised, pawing the air

over the brink of a precipice. This dangerous experiment was carried

into effect by the general for some days, in the presence of several

spectators, and of Falconet, who sketched the various movements and

parts of the groups from day to day, and was thus enabled to produce

perhaps the finest—certainly the most correct—statue of the kind in

Europe.”

It thus appears that _enterprise_ characterised not only Lascary,

the engineer, but Falconet, the artist, Melissino, the officer who

undertook to depict the living model, and in brief, the entire deed

from beginning to end. How strikingly might the parallel be continued

with Peter himself! The young reader will find the history of the

Czar, which he can peruse in various forms, pregnant with lessons

of enterprise to a degree beyond that of any modern man, with the

exception of Napoleon. In both their histories, however, we are

compelled to remind him, there is much to censure; and in the history

of the latter especially, much more to censure than to praise.

[Illustration: Napoleon]

If our own country be viewed with strictness, it will be found

that we have no great work of ornamental enterprise simply, at all

comparable to the one just sketched. Russia, nevertheless, can bear

no comparison with England in point of useful enterprises; she has

nothing, for instance, like the Eddystone light-house or the Plymouth

breakwater. A few brief sentences will serve to sketch the former.

The first light-house built on the Eddystone rock was constructed by

Winstanley, in 1696 to 1700. While some repairs were making under

his inspection, the building was blown down in a terrible hurricane,

during the night of the 26th of November, 1703, and he and his

workmen perished. Not a vestige, except some iron stanchions and a

chain, was left behind.

Rudyerd, in 1706, erected another, which was destroyed by fire, in

1755; it was entirely of wood, except the five lower courses of

stone, on the rock.

The present edifice is a circular tower of stone sweeping up with a

gentle curve from the base, and gradually diminishing to the top,

somewhat similar to the swelling of the trunk of a tree. The tower

is furnished with a door and windows, and a staircase and ladders

for ascending to the lantern, through the apartments of those who

keep watch. Mr. Smeaton undertook the arduous task of constructing

the present light-house, in the spring of 1756, and completed it

in about three years. In order to form his foundation, Smeaton

accurately measured the very irregular surface of the rock, and made

a model of it. Granite partially worked, forms the foundation; every

outside piece is grafted into the rock, to sustain more effectually

the action of the sea; a border of three inches effects also a kind

of socket for the foundation. Each course of masonry is dovetailed

together, in the most skilful manner, and each layer of masonry is

strongly cemented together and connected by oaken plugs, and the

whole strongly cramped. The general weight of the stones employed is

a ton, and some few are two tons. In the solid work the centre stones

were fixed first, and all the courses were fitted on a platform and

accurately adjusted before they were removed to the rock.

The base of the tower is about twenty-six feet nine inches in

diameter; the diameter at the top of the solid masonry is about

nineteen feet nine inches; and the height of the solid masonry is

thirteen feet from the foundation. The height of the tower from the

centre of the base is sixty-one feet seven inches; the lantern, the

base of which is stone, is twenty-four feet. The whole height is

eighty-five feet seven inches; and the Eddystone light-house has

not only the merit of utility, but also of beauty, strength, and

originality, and is itself sufficient to immortalise the name of the

architect.

[Illustration: Lighthouse]

The Breakwater thrown across Plymouth Sound is another of the great

useful enterprises of Britain. Mr. Rennie was the distinguished

engineer appointed to perform this work. He knew that to resist the

force of the heavy sea which rolls into the Sound from the south and

south-west, a very considerable slope would be necessary for the

breakwater, and accordingly, it is so constructed. He also perceived

that great masses of stones from one to ten tons each would be

required.

The quarries from which these were procured are situated at Oreston

on the eastern shore of Catwater; they lie under a surface of about

twenty-five acres, and were purchased from the Duke of Bedford for

£10,000. They consist of one vast mass of compact close-grained

marble, many specimens of which are beautifully variegated; seams of

clay, however, are interspersed through the rock, in which there are

large cavities, some empty, and others partially filled with clay. In

one of these caverns in the solid rock, fifteen feet wide, forty-five

feet long, and twelve feet deep, filled nearly with compact clay,

were found imbedded fossil bones belonging to the rhinoceros, being

portions of the skeletons of three different animals, all of them in

the most perfect state of preservation, every part of their surface

being entire to a degree which Sir Everard Home said he had never

observed in specimens of that kind before. The part of the cavity in

which these bones were found was seventy feet below the surface of

the solid rock, sixty feet horizontally from the edge of the cliff

where it was first begun to work the quarry, and one hundred and

sixty feet from the original edge of the Catwater. Every side of the

cavern was solid rock, the inside had no incrustation of stalactite,

nor was there any external communication through the rock in which

it was imbedded, nor any appearance of an opening from above being

closed by infiltration. When, therefore, and in what manner these

bones came into that situation, is among the secret and wonderful

operations of nature which will probably never be revealed to mankind.

M. Dupin, an intelligent observer of our great naval and commercial

enterprises gives the following description of the working of the

quarries from which the Breakwater stone was procured.

“The sight of the operations which I have just described, those

enormous masses of marble that the quarry-men strike with heavy

strokes of their hammers; and those aerial roads or flying bridges

which serve for the removal of the superstratum of earth; those lines

of cranes all at work at the same moment; the trucks all in motion;

the arrival, the loading, and the departure of the vessels; all this

forms one of the most imposing sights that can strike a friend to

the great works of art. At fixed hours, the sound of a bell is heard

in order to announce the blastings of the quarry. The operations

instantly cease on all sides, the workmen retire; all becomes silence

and solitude; this universal silence renders still more imposing the

sound of the explosion, the splitting of the rocks, their ponderous

fall, and the prolonged sound of the echoes.”

These huge blocks of stone were conveyed from the quarries on trucks,

along iron railways, to the quays, and from thence into the holds of

the vessels built expressly for the purpose. On their arrival over

the line of the Breakwater, they are discharged from the trucks by

means of what is called a _typing-frame_, at the stern of the vessel,

which, falling like a trap-door, lets the stone into the sea. In this

manner a cargo of sixteen trucks, or eighteen tons, may be discharged

in the space of forty or fifty minutes. Two millions of tons of

stone, and one million sterling in money, was the calculation made at

the outset, as requisite to complete this great national work.

[Illustration: Train tunnel]

CONCLUSION.

To describe, even by a single sentence each, the great enterprises of

England—her harbours, bridges, canals, railways, mines, manufactures,

shipping—would occupy volumes. Suffice it to say that our country has

become more and more the land of Enterprise. This, indeed, must be

the grand characteristic of the civilised world, universally, if the

old and evil passion for war be not renewed.

In bygone ages the only path to prosperity for nations was supposed

to be war. Nations seemed to think that without military “glory”

they could not be great. Modern nations patterned by the ancient;

every page of modern history, as well as ancient, is tilled with

battles and successes. The farther we look back, the more we find it

true, that violence led to splendour and renown. Much is told of the

magnificence of the Eastern empires; but far above the glory of the

temples of Tadmor, and the gardens of Babylon, rises the glory of

Eastern conquerors on the page of history. Of all that is recorded

of Egyptian labour and Corinthian wealth, nothing equals in fame

their contemporary warriors. The trade and merchants of Athens were

not without profit to her; but to Marathon and Platæa, to Salamis

and Mycale, she owes the admiration which the majority in later

ages have paid her. Sparta flourished, though condemned to idleness,

except in war and theft. The trade of Carthage fell before the sword

of Rome, and not all the wares that heathen nations ever fabricated,

gave a twentieth part of the power which the soldiers of the republic

won.

Gradually, the truth dawns upon the world that war is an evil

immeasurable; that military glory is a false and destructive light;

and that the grandest enterprises are those which serve to increase

the comfort, happiness, and knowledge of the race. Let the young

reader bid success to such enterprises, and enter into their spirit

with all his energy. To be engaged—to be busy—to be earnestly at

work, he will find to be one of the chief sources of happiness;

and to pass life honourably and worthily, it is not only the duty,

but the privilege, of well-nigh every native of our own and other

civilised countries, to render existence a series of the “TRIUMPHS OF

ENTERPRISE.”

[Illustration: Decoration]

William Stevens, Printer, 37, Bell Yard, Temple Bar.

Transcriber’s Notes

pg 5 Added period after: classic story of “Meleager,” which is

acted in the school

pg 25 Added comma after picture title: SPENSER

pg 31 Changed Such attainments can only be reached by the most

determined desciple to: disciple

pg 35 Removed repeated word and from: and I could multiply

and and divide

pg 45 Changed title from: CHAPTER II. to: CHAPTER III.

pg 47 Changed attract notice from the chief of the patrican

to: patrician

pg 58 Changed in the slightest degree, apear to: appear

pg 63 Changed combined with almost volanic to: volcanic

pg 86 Added comma after title: SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT

pg 91 Changed Guttemberg the inventor of printing to: Gutenberg

pg 145 Changed Without Enterprise there would have been no

civilzation to: civilization

pg 230 Added quote before: the more I was eager to see.”

pg 236 Changed “On my return to Cairo,” says he, “I againt to: again

Left different spellings of Shakspeare as written