BEFORE resuming the narrative of our excavations, we may here give some
account of our dealings with the Arabs, and of the excursions which we
made to different parts of the Cyrenaica before the arrival of the
_Assurance_.
Not long after our arrival at Cyrene we had a specimen of the kind of
difficulties we were likely to meet with not unfrequently. Walking one
day round the face of the hill opposite the fountain, we were met by an
Arab who, in very expressive language, ordered us to turn and leave the
place at once. For some time we could not exactly make out what had so
stirred up his indignation, but afterwards found that it was our
presence within the limits of the _Zauyah_. Thinking the Zauyah was
probably one of the tombs converted into a mosque, we told him we had no
wish to desecrate it, and asked him to show us where it was, that we
might avoid it in future. To our astonishment, the boundary he pointed
out included the whole side of a hill, which formed one of the most
interesting parts of the north-eastern cemetery. To give up the right of
visiting so large a portion of the necropolis was out of the question,
especially as submission on our part would only encourage the _Achwan_,
or devotees of the Zauyah, to further acts of aggression. We therefore
determined to contest the point, which we did by walking within the
proscribed boundary nearly every day. Several threatening messages
reached us from the Sheikh of the Zauyah, who, professing himself our
friend, said he could not control the rage of the Arabs if we continued
to pollute the sacred enclosure by our presence. This Sheikh, Mustapha
by name, was considered one of the greatest saints in the country, and
was respected and feared accordingly. He was always called _Sidi_
Mustapha, a title bestowed upon Marabouts, or holy men, and equivalent
to _Rabbi_—my lord or master. Originally one of the greatest thieves in
Mesurata, he had suddenly become intensely religious, and joined the
fanatical sect of _El Senoussy_ during the late revival of Mussulman
bigotry. He, with others, had left Mesurata, and travelled about the
country trying to stir up a crusade against the Christians. He was now
settled down as the Sheikh of the Zauyah of Shahat.
Matters continued in this unsatisfactory state for nearly a month, till
one day, when we were walking along the forbidden path, an Arab sallied
forth from a tomb above us and began pelting us with stones. He was
immediately joined by others from different directions, all in the
highest state of excitement. Some of the more indignant were for
shooting us at once, and one man had actually levelled his gun, but was
prevented from firing by some of his cooler friends. Meantime such a
number of Arabs had assembled that it would have been foolishness for us
to attempt going farther. Sidi Mustapha, by whom the whole thing had
evidently been planned, now appeared on the scene, and pretended to try
and pacify the enraged crowd. After several unsuccessful efforts,
turning to us, he said, “You see it is just as I told you; and if this
goes on, I shall not be able to prevent their shooting you, if you
remain at Cyrene at all.” We had, of course, to retire, but told his
lordship that we had come to Cyrene for a special purpose, and had no
intention of leaving until that was accomplished. Moreover, that we
would see that the two men who had thrown stones and threatened to shoot
us were duly punished for their offence.
Shortly before this time a tent and some other articles had been stolen
from our tomb, and although the Arabs must have known well enough who
the thieves were, we could find no trace of our lost property. We
therefore determined to test the value of our firman, by requesting the
Mudir of Ghegheb to punish the two Achwani of the Zauyah, and to compel
the tribe near Cyrene to deliver up the thief, our object in doing so
being, if possible, to show the Arabs that we were not to be offended
with impunity. Porcher and Cesareo accordingly went the day after the
disturbance to the castle of Ghegheb, were they saw the Mudir, Lemin Ben
Sitewi, an old Arab, who had been Mudir under the Karamanlis before the
occupation of the country by the Turks. When he saw the firman, and was
informed of the object of the visit, he promised that everything should
be done at once to our satisfaction. The two Achwani should be
apprehended and kept in prison at Ghegheb until he had communicated with
the Pacha at Benghazi, and our lost property should either be
immediately restored, or the tribe mulcted of its value, which was
estimated at 3,000 piastres (£24). He said he had no doubt that the
thief, and probably one of the principal intriguers against us, was a
neighbour of our own, Mabrook Jerébi, who was, therefore, to be
immediately apprehended.
So far as promises went, all this was satisfactory enough; but
performance, as usual, was quite the reverse. In conducting business of
any kind with officials in Turkey, there is never the slightest
difficulty in making the preliminary arrangements and stipulations.
During an interview everything is settled exactly as you wish, and you
come away impressed with the idea that you have managed your business
very cleverly, and that the authorities in Turkey are, after all, not
half so bad as they are called. You soon discover, however, that here
your real difficulties begin. If what is promised is ever actually
performed, it is only after the most vexatious shuffling and delay, for
which plausible excuses are never wanting. A Turkish official seems to
reason with himself somewhat in this way:—“I do not wish to disturb my
peace of mind by arguing with this man; I must, therefore, promise
everything he wishes, reserving the question of performance for private
consideration afterwards. Should he afterwards be so exacting as to
insist on the fulfilment of my promises, I am quite unfit for my post if
I cannot coin sufficient excuses to satisfy him. A judicious repetition
of the promises, and the partial performance now and then of some of
them, will keep matters all right for a time, and, meanwhile, ‘something
may turn up.’ Should the worst come to the worst, I shall, after all,
have to do no more than I promised at the first.”
Such is the almost invariable method of conducting business; so that, in
proportion as a man becomes an adept in the art of delay, his reputation
as a clever administrator increases. The Turks, and I believe Easterns
in general, pride themselves on their superiority to Europeans in this
kind of sharpness. Hence a common saying among them, “Frangestan
marafat, lakin Arabestan akl,” “Europe for talent, _but_ the East for
cleverness,” the force of the word _lakin_ showing the higher esteem in
which the _akl_ is held. We are, perhaps, too apt in this country to
sacrifice the _suaviter in modo_ to the _fortiter in re_, but in Turkey
the tendency is quite the reverse.
The above was thoroughly exemplified in our dealings with Lemin Ben
Sitewi. The day after Porcher’s interview, Lemin’s Kiayah, or Secretary,
with a number of mounted Koralié, came to Cyrene for the ostensible
purpose of carrying out the orders for the apprehension of the
offenders. They took Mabrook Jerébi, whom we had never accused, but said
they could not get the two Achwani as they did not know their names.
When we gave them the names, they went again to the Zauyah, but returned
immediately, saying the men were gone away and could not be found. On
our saying that this was not the case, as we had seen them only a few
hours before, they said that the fact was that both the men were the
servants of Sidi Mustapha and could not be taken without his consent,
which it was impossible to obtain that day, as he was from home. On his
return, however, which was expected the following day, they would come
again to Shahat and apprehend the men without fail. Seeing the way in
which the matter was likely to end if left in the hands of the Mudir, we
told the Kiayah to inform his master that if the men were not taken
within three days, we would communicate the whole of the affair through
the Consul to the Pacha at Benghazi.
After waiting some days, and hearing no further tidings of the actions
of the Mudir, we sent a courier to Benghazi with a letter to Mr. Crowe,
in which we gave a full account of the matters as they stood, and
requested him to take whatever steps he thought advisable. He at once
called on the Kaimacam and insisted on his sending the most stringent
orders to the Mudir to have the men apprehended and sent to Benghazi. A
messenger was accordingly sent to Ghegheb with orders to the Mudir to go
himself to Cyrene without delay and seize the men. After bringing them
before us for identification, he was to send them to Benghazi to be
dealt with by the Kaimacam himself. He was also to pay us the 3,000
piastres and levy the amount on the tribe guilty of the theft.
In consequence of these orders, Lemin made his appearance at our
quarters one morning accompanied by a large retinue of Sheiks,
Chavasses, and Koralié. After informing us of the object of his visit,
he handed over to us 1,500 piastres, alleging the emptiness of the
public chest as his reason for not bringing the whole sum. He also said
that the two men had been sent for and would be brought before us in the
course of an hour or two. Expecting further difficulties and excuses, we
were certainly somewhat surprised by the actual arrival of the
prisoners, who, however, seemed unaccountably cool and unconcerned. This
the Mudir explained by whispering to us that they were not aware of the
object for which he had called them, but had come with the idea that
they were only to make an apology for their conduct and depart in peace.
He even received them with a gracious “Salaam Aleikoum,” and bade them
be seated. After a short pause he turned to us and asked if these were
the men of whom we complained. When we said that they were, he called
out “Bring the ropes.” The Chavasses immediately ran in and with a great
pretence of activity and violence disarmed and pinioned the prisoners.
They were then led off ignominiously by the mounted attendants, who, to
make escape impossible, held them by long ropes attached to their
pinions. They were followed by the Mudir and his retinue, the whole
cavalcade moving off in the presence of a large concourse of Arabs who
had meantime assembled round our tomb. The whole scene was quite
dramatic.
We soon discovered that the drama had been rehearsed with a view to its
effect, not on the assembled Arabs, but on ourselves. Within a week we
heard that the prisoners were again at liberty, having, according to the
Mudir, slipped their shackles in a miraculous manner, and escaped during
the night when on their way to Benghazi. This feat, however, lost all
its supernatural character in our eyes, when looked upon in connection
with the purse of dollars previously subscribed by the Arabs and given
to the Mudir. His superior cleverness on this occasion cost him dear,
for on our again applying to Mr. Crowe, he was deprived of office and
sent as a prisoner to Tripoli, whence he was not allowed to return to
Benghazi until all his money had found its way into the coffers of the
Pacha. Thus after two months’ delay, our dignity was finally and
publicly vindicated.
About the same time the Kaimacam sent his Bash-Chavass, or head
policeman, Osman Aga, to Cyrene, to remain with us as long as we thought
his presence desirable, and to keep a good look-out on the doings of the
Achwani of the Zauyah. Long before his arrival, however, Sidi Mustapha,
seeing the turn affairs were taking, went off to Augila, and did not
return until he heard of the coming of the _Assurance_, in which he
thought we would take our departure. Although the Achwani committed no
open act of hostility towards us, they caused us a great deal of trouble
indirectly, by interfering with our servants. Our principal servant,
Amor Bon Abdi Seyat, was bound to us by too secure a tenure to be much
affected by their opinions, as he not only received liberal and frequent
bakshish, but was, with his whole family, exempted from the payment of
the _miri_, or tribute, so long as he remained in our employment. Some
of the other servants, however, the Achwani threatened with their
vengeance if they remained longer in our service. They were particularly
bitter against an old woman, Fatima, who ground the corn and made the
bread of the establishment. Her services were absolutely indispensable,
inasmuch as an Arab, or even a negro, would rather eat raw corn or
starve than grind the wheat or barley himself. Of all employments, this
of grinding corn is peculiarly a woman’s, and is never done even by
boys. On the other hand, the sewing and washing of both men’s and
women’s clothes are done by the men. Fatima’s office of Nufaga being,
therefore one of the most important in our household, the Achwani made
special efforts to deprive us of her services, telling her that they
would cut her hands off after we were gone if she remained another day
with us. They even went beyond threats, for one day when she was at the
Zauyah for something or other, they got hold of her and gave her a
beating. As this was a more tangible offence than mere threats, we put
in force against them a law of retaliation recognized by the Arabs, by
which they were compelled to pay old Fatima the sum of twenty-five
dollars.
With these exceptions our intercourse with the Arabs was usually of a
friendly nature. During the first two months of our stay at Cyrene, we
were greatly indebted to Mr. Cesareo, whose knowledge of the language
and acquaintance with the habits of the people were of the greatest
service. He left us to return to Benghazi, in the beginning of March,
after which time we had to transact our business with the Arabs in the
best way we could without assistance. Our transactions consisted chiefly
in making bargains for barley, wheat, butter, sheep, and bullocks.
Concluding a bargain was always a very tedious affair, and seeing it
properly carried out afterwards was much more so. One great cause of
this was the absence of any definite standard of measurement; the only
measure of capacity for both solids and liquids being the _wugga_, or
oke, which, however, was little more than a name, the wugga of one Arab
being sometimes half as much again as that of another. This, of course,
caused endless disputes; and as we found the oke daily becoming “small
by degrees and beautifully less,” we were obliged at last to adopt an
arbitrary wugga of our own. When this, after long opposition, was fairly
established, we were saved a great part of the previous trouble and
annoyance.
The public disgrace of the Mudir had a very salutary effect on the
Arabs, and was, no doubt, one of the principal causes of their general
good behaviour toward us afterwards. Another was that they had gradually
become accustomed to our presence, and were less hostile in proportion
as we became better acquainted with each other. The tribes we met in
other parts of the country, and those from the southward, who came to
the neighbourhood of Cyrene late in the summer, took no pains to hide
their great hatred of the Nazarenes. The following is an instance of
this feeling. Some Arabs who were assembled in our tomb, were talking
about a report that had reached us of a violent earthquake in Malta and
Sicily, by which many thousand people had perished. One of the Arabs
present, on being told, in answer to a question, that all these people
were Christians, muttered in a low, expressive tone: “_El Hamdu
’lillah!_” (Praise be to God!)
We gained considerable influence by our reputed skill as doctors,
although we disclaimed any pretensions to a knowledge of the healing
art. People came with diseases of every kind, in the expectation that
they were at once to be cured. Knowing nothing of the nature or causes
of disease, they look upon it as a supernatural visitation, and
therefore conclude that it is only to be abated or cured by supernatural
means, of which medicine and written charms (_kiteeba_) are the most
effectual. The latter, being altogether mysterious, are held in the
highest esteem. Owing to the ignorance of the people, the few among them
who can read and write are looked upon with a respect somewhat allied to
fear; and if, in addition to the accomplishments of reading and writing,
a man has the reputation of being a marabut, or saint, he is treated
with the greatest reverence. Such men are called _fikkis_, and not
unusually turn their reputation to good account by selling written
charms to their credulous clients. As we were often seen reading and
writing, the Arabs became fully convinced that we must be great fikkis,
although, as Christians, we could not have derived our power from the
proper quarter. Applications for kiteebas were, therefore, very
frequent, not only in cases of sickness, but also for the remedy of all
sorts of domestic troubles and grievances. A woman, for instance, came
for a kiteeba to enable her to retain the undivided affections of her
husband, and thereby restrain him from taking another wife. A man whose
hopes of marrying the object of his affections had been frustrated by
the enmity of her relations, wanted one to overcome their opposition and
secure the success of his suit. One young lady begged for a kiteeba that
would get her a husband, and another asked for one to prevent her being
married to a man she disliked. In vain we tried to persuade the people
that charms were valueless, and that the idea of their efficacy was kept
up by the fikkis solely for their own advantage. The belief in their
power was too deeply rooted to be shaken by anything we could say, and
our unwillingness to write them was attributed to mere churlishness.
This being the case, we were often obliged to act as sorcerers to get
rid of importunate applicants. In giving a kiteeba, we took care at the
same time to recommend the use of such natural means as we thought most
conducive to the desired result, and enforced our advice by saying, that
the kiteeba was so written that it could have no effect if the means
recommended were not adopted. If the desired result was obtained, the
success was, of course, ascribed to the virtue of the charm; and if not,
the failure was attributed to a final cause,—it was _mektub_, written as
the will of God in the Book of Fate.
The wandering habits of the Bedouins are a necessary result of the form
of their property and of the physical condition of the country in which
they live. As the various tribes are in a perpetual state of feud or
open war among themselves, agriculture is but little attended to, and
property consists almost entirely of flocks and herds, which, being
moveable, are better adapted than crops to a lawless state of society.
For mutual protection, a number of families belonging to the same clan
or subdivision of a tribe live together and form an encampment, which
consists generally of from six to twelve tents, with one family in each.
The flocks belonging to the camp graze on the surrounding pastures, and,
during summer, drink the water that remains in the pools which form
during the rains in winter. In a short time the grass and water within a
convenient distance of the camp are consumed, and it becomes necessary
to move to another place. The tents are then struck, and, with the
smaller children and the few rude articles that belong to the household,
are carried by camels and oxen; the men mount their horses, and the
women follow on foot to drive the flocks.
In fixing on a spot for a camp, two points have to be attended to; good
grazing-ground for the animals, and a sheltered and secluded position
for the tents. On this account a thicket of brushwood is frequently
selected, in the centre of which a space is cleared for the camp, and
enclosed by a rough fence of shrubs and branches, which keeps in the
cattle during the night, and serves to a great extent as a line of
defence, as it is impossible to pass it without attracting the attention
of the numerous watch-dogs on duty inside.
These dogs bark all night without intermission, and give warning of the
approach of a stranger by a special howl of peculiar fierceness. One
would naturally imagine that a dog given to perpetual barking, and in
this respect like the boy in the fable who cried “wolf,” would be of
comparatively little value as a watch. The Arabs, however, think
otherwise. They say truly that if a dog barks all night he cannot
possibly fall asleep, and that the change in his bark on the approach of
an intruder is quite sufficient to arouse the soundest sleeper. His
usual bark is a warning to the enemy that the sentries within the camp
are awake, and to his master it is a perpetual report of “all’s well.”
The hoarse voices of the dogs, the plaintive grumbling of the camels,
and the bleating of scores of lambs and kids, joining with the shrill
cries of the surrounding jackals, form a midnight chorus the reverse of
musical.
The flocks are generally tended by the young men and the children, while
the women are chiefly employed in grinding the barley for the use of the
family, churning butter, and weaving haircloth for tents and camel-bags.
In good years, that is, when there has been plenty of rain in winter and
spring, there is a considerable surplus of wheat and barley, which the
Arabs take for sale to Benghazi and Derna. Such, however, is their
improvidence, that little or no provision is made against a season of
drought, so that they are not unfrequently reduced to poverty and
starvation by the death of their cattle and the failure of the crops. In
ordinary years, a large quantity of butter is made. The only churn in
use is simply a goat-skin, which the women fill with milk and rock
backwards and forwards on their knees until the butter forms. The
buttermilk, called _Leben_, is one of the principal articles of food.
The butter (_Zibda_) when made, is melted in a pot, and salt added in
certain proportion. The curd part of the butter having sunk to the
bottom, the oily part is poured off into goat-skins prepared for the
purpose. This clarified butter, called _Semen_, is the only form in
which it is eaten by the Arabs, the _Zibda_ being considered unclean. It
is exported in large quantities to different parts of Turkey.
The dish in most general use among the Arabs is a thick kind of barley
porridge called _Bazeen_, seasoned with whatever they happen to have at
the time. The favourite condiment, however, is red pepper of capsicums,
which they consume in astonishing quantities when they have an
opportunity. When they wish to be luxurious, or to do honour to a
stranger, some melted _Semen_ is poured into the middle of the dish, and
in this each guest dips the _bolus_ of bazeen which he has kneaded with
his fingers into convenient size and shape for swallowing. When the
dish, or rather trough, is cleared, copious draughts of _leben_ finish
the repast.
A kind of unleavened bread is sometimes eaten, but as its preparation is
not so simple as the Bazeen, it is considered rather a luxury. It is
made in the following manner:—A large fire is kindled, and into it are
thrown a number of stones about the size of the fist; when they are
thoroughly heated, some of them are laid on the embers so as to form a
flat surface, on which the dough is placed and beaten out with the hand
to an average thickness of about an inch and a half. This cake is then
covered with the rest of the stones, and the red embers of the fire are
raked over the whole. In a few minutes the bread is cooked, and is eaten
at once before it cools. It is usually torn into small pieces, and
served up in a bazeen-dish with melted semen, in which form it is called
_Hobsa Mitruda_.
Wheaten bread is very rarely eaten; but the mode of baking it deserves
notice. A large wide-mouthed earthen pot, called _Taboona_, is placed on
the ground, and a fire kindled inside and around it. The dough is
kneaded in the usual manner in a wooden dish, and formed into flat round
loaves about three-quarters of an inch in thickness, and six or eight
inches in diameter. The _Nufaga_ taking one of these in her hand, sticks
it against the inside of the taboona, to which it adheres until it is
baked. Bread made in this way is called _Hobsa Taboona_, and if
carefully baked and quite fresh is very palatable.
Meat is never eaten except on such great occasions as a marriage feast,
or when it can be got for nothing. On such occasions it is devoured
alone without either salt or bread. Tea, coffee, and sugar, are all but
unknown.
The tents are of very simple construction, consisting simply of a broad
piece of haircloth stretched over two upright poles. The two ends and
the back are usually pegged down pretty close to the ground, and the
front left open. The cloth is generally made up of alternate strips of
black and white or black and brown. The cords, as well as the cloth, are
made of hair. The tents contain nothing but the most indispensable
articles; such as water-skins, butter-skins, camel-bags, a hand mill,
wooden bazeen-dishes, &c. The beds, if there are any, are simply bits of
haircloth or matting spread on the floor, and the barracans, or _Jered_,
worn by day are the only bedclothes during the night. When the weather
is very cold, the Arabs have rather an ingenious way of keeping
themselves warm. They dig a space under their beds about six inches in
depth, and fill it up with stones that have been heated in the fire,
over which they spread some twigs and leaves, and the mat on which they
sleep. By this arrangement the beds are kept warm for several hours.
[Illustration: PLATE 42.—INTERIOR OF MOHAMMED EL ADOULY’S TENT.]
The affairs of state of a tribe are settled by a _Medjlis_ or general
assembly of all the men belonging to it. These assemblies are called on
even the most trivial occasions, and sometimes last for several days.
The speeches are generally confined to the sheikhs; but any one is at
liberty to give his opinion. There is no particular method in the way in
which they arrive at a conclusion. After a great deal of talking, the
general mind of the meeting seems to become understood, and action is
taken accordingly. With a few exceptions, the sheikhs do not seem to
possess the power or influence usually attributed to them. The original
signification of “_sheikh_” (pronounced _shaich_, _ch_ guttural), is
simply “_old man_.”
The form of salutation among the Arabs is very peculiar. When two people
meet, they strike the palms of their hands against each other and kiss
them. Then commences a perfect torrent of questions on both sides
regarding each other’s welfare, but to which answers are never given:
such as, “Peace!” “Peace be with thee!” “How are you?” “How are you?”
“Peace!” “How are you?” “Peace be with thee!” “Are you very well?”
“Thanks be to God!” “How are you?” “Are you very well?” “What is your
colour?” “What is your colour?” “Peace be with thee!” and so on for
several minutes. After a pause, if they have nothing else to say, they
begin again _da capo_, “How are you?” &c., &c. One subject they are
never tired of asking about, viz., the price of grain, butter, and other
commodities at Benghazi and Derna. A man returning from either of these
places is therefore subjected by all the people he meets to a most
tedious cross examination on this interesting topic. Although they may
have asked the same questions immediately before, they receive the
answers with some such exclamation of surprise as Wallah! Mashallah! &c.
If you happen to be travelling from Benghazi, you get dreadfully “bored”
by the perpetual series of questions: “How much is barley?” “Ha,
Mashallah!” “How much is wheat?” “By God!” “How much is barley?” “God is
great!” “How much are bullocks?” “By God, it is good!” and so on until
you move off. Even then, however, so long as you are within earshot, the
same questions are shouted after you, so that just before you are
released by the distance from further interrogation, you may detect the
faint reply, “God is great!” and some such forgotten inquiry, as, “How
much are donkeys?”
[Illustration: PLATE 43.—ARAB ARMS OF THE CYRENAICA.]
The habit of swearing is very prevalent, the most trivial statements
being accompanied by the oath “_Wallah!_” or “_Wallahi!_” (By God!) If
the truth of the statement is doubted, this oath is repeated thrice in
succession with great emphasis: “Wallahi, Wallahi, Wallahi!” Its
impressiveness being much weakened by continual use, other forms of
asseveration are frequently added, such as: “Hakh El Senoussy!” (The
truth of Senoussy!), and even “Hakh Sidi Mustapha!” (The truth of Sidi
Mustapha!”), both of which expressions are considered much more solemn
by the Cyrene Arabs than the usual “Wallahi!”
The universal use of firearms is caused in a great measure by the
prevalence of the law of retaliation, or _Vendetta_. If a man of one
tribe or camp is killed by a man of another, his friends endeavour to
avenge his death by killing the manslayer, or, failing him, any one
belonging to his camp. A man is, consequently, quite uncertain whether
every thicket he passes may not conceal an enemy lying in wait to take
his life, and he is therefore constantly armed for the purpose of acting
in self-defence. The wearing of arms has thus become almost a necessity.
The prohibition by the Government of the sale and use of firearms and
gunpowder is of no effect, owing to the want of power to enforce it. For
the same reason the Government takes no cognizance of any crimes but
such as directly interfere with the collection of the tribute; so that
the Arabs are left at perfect liberty to indulge their propensities for
murder, robbery, and theft as much as they please. Let the reader
imagine a country some miles in length, inhabited by a proud, passionate
race of barbarians, who are divided into innumerable tribes and
families, mutually jealous of each other, with no fixed dwelling-places,
and under no restraint from the force of public law,—and he will have a
fair idea of the state of Barbary at the present day.
[Illustration: Pl. 44.
WADY LEBAIATH, BETWEEN CYRENE AND APOLLONIA
E. A. Porcher, delt., T. Picken, lith.
London. Published July 1st. 1864 by Day & Son, Lithographers to the
Queen &c., Gate Street Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
Day & Son, Lithrs. to the Queen]