THE “MINOS”--ENGLISH AND FRENCH APPETITES--LEGHORN--TOWTING
JEWS--CIVITA VECCHIA--NAPLES--FORMALITIES OF LANDING--MALTA--MR.
PORTENIER--THE “LYCURGE”--SYRA.
I quitted Marseilles in the “Minos” steamer on the evening of June
21st, in company with some twenty fellow-passengers, bound to various
parts of the Mediterranean. Amongst them was the venerable Bishop of
Antioch, with a numerous suite of attendant priests, and a sprinkling
of my own countrypeople; but I soon discovered that I was the only
passenger going to the far East. The “Minos” is one of a fine class
of armed French steamers, which serve the Mediterranean, running from
Marseilles to Malta, Syra and Alexandria, calling at most of the larger
ports on the southern coast of Italy. The accommodation on board these
vessels is perfect, and the discipline of the first order, and they
are withal so strongly built, that they defy the ugliest weather, and
are very rarely overdue. I found myself in possession of a snug berth
in the second cabin, and at dinner-time made the acquaintance of my
fellow-travellers, the ship’s doctor taking the head of the table.
Two meals, the one a dejeuner à la fourchette at ten, the other, a
plentiful dinner at five o’clock, were the only ones I ever got a sight
of, such being included in the cabin fare; and as I was invariably
ready for breakfast long before ten, and always hungry again after
dinner, I became a pretty good customer of the cook on deck, who by
the time I had finished my voyage, had a considerable score against
me for sundry stray cutlets and “cornichons,” devoured at the door of
the caboose, to the great surprise of the captain and his officers,
who made no allowance for the appetizing effect of the sea-breeze and
bracing air of the Mediterranean.
The sudden stopping of the monotonous jog of the engines, awoke me
about half-past six on the second morning of our voyage. On gaining the
deck, I found we had dropped anchor off Leghorn, famed as I rightly
remembered, for straw-bonnets and Jews. Having taken the precaution
at Marseilles, to have my passport properly _visè_, I accompanied two
French gentlemen on shore, to wile away the few hours of our stay,
and by way of a cicerone, we took into our service the loquacious old
boatman who conveyed us to land. There are not many objects of interest
at Leghorn, which can be visited within the compass of a few hours.
The English cemetery possesses a melancholy sort of attraction, and
is well worth seeing, though it is not the most cheering thing to
loiter among the graves of one’s countrymen, and decipher epitaphs upon
disasters at sea and cholera morbus.
The chief street of the town is lined on either side with excellent
shops, abounding with wares from all parts of the globe; whilst
perambulating vendors of razors and pocket-pistols, besiege you at
every ten paces, not to mention the Jew drapers, who, like their
brethren in Holywell Street, _towt_ in person at their own shop-doors
to entreat an inspection of their goods. One street is a perfect Bazaar
of yellow-looking ornaments, in thin gold and filigree work, such as
brooches, and enormous ear-drops, highly prized by the dressy Contadine.
The following day, we paid a similar brief and passing visit at
Civita Vecchia, a papal port, of much less importance than Leghorn,
although its contiguity to Rome causes considerable traffic. We passed
afterwards close to the Island of Elba, reaching the Bay of Naples on
the twenty-fifth, or in three days and two nights from Marseilles,
including our protracted stoppages. The view from our anchorage was
beautiful in the extreme, appearing very different from anything I had
been led to expect from the accounts of travelled acquaintance, who are
fond of comparing the Bay of Naples to that of Swansea, which latter,
although pretty enough, lacks the all-important features of islands
and volcano, and is seldom to be seen in the colours afforded by an
Italian atmosphere. Previous to going on shore, our captain intimated
that our stay was limited to four hours, a piece of information which
decided me on making no effort to see anything of the town, resolving,
however, to return to Naples at some future period, to feast at leisure
on its beauties. I was not suffered to land without showing my passport
in three several places, and being felt all over by a dirty underling
officer, whose delight was extreme on finding in my case two cigars,
the last of my small stock from England. He was making off, to hand
them (as he said) to his superior, when I thought it better to make
a compromise by giving him one, whilst I put the other in my mouth.
Nothing can exceed the vigilance of a Neapolitan in his search after
tobacco, of which the importation is strictly forbidden. I was detained
so very long by the formalities of landing, that by the time I had
edged my way through a densely crowded market, in a street contiguous
to the shore, and made sundry stoppages at the little stalls where
cooling drinks are sold, I found my furlough very nearly expired. At
this time I could speak no Italian whatever, and know not how I managed
to make myself intelligible in certain inquiries about the Toledo,
which I was anxious to reach; but I am very sure that I never got so
far, and that after walking a long way to no purpose, I was compelled
to retrace my steps and return to the “Minos.”
Two more weary days of steaming brought us to Malta, and a truce
to the miseries of passports and customs. I had no sooner finished
dressing, for it was quite early when we entered the harbour, than a
portly individual descended into the cabin, inquiring if Mr. W----n,
were on board. The inquiry being made in English, I replied at once
in the negative; and learning that my questioner was W----n’s agent
in Malta, I showed him my letter of introduction to Mr. Portenier of
Alexandria. “Hah!” said he, as he rapidly scanned it, “I shall then
have the pleasure of introducing you, as Mr. Portenier is here at this
moment on his way to England.” We then hailed a boat and rowed away
to the quarantine harbour, where, on landing at the lazaretto, I was
forthwith made acquainted with a gentleman, who was leaning over a
rail in company with a dozen others, all busily engaged in sucking
oranges--I was most politely received,--and upon hearing my letter,
for I was not allowed to place it in his hands, my new acquaintance
wished me a pleasant voyage, saying that I should find Mr. Furner
in Alexandria, who would receive me in his stead, and give me all
necessary instructions. I made some few inquiries as to the nature
of my probable employment in Egypt, but received no more definite an
answer than that I should find out when I got there! Telling me that he
would be back again in September, we wished each other “good morning,”
and Mr. Gallia, for such was the name of my Maltese friend, conducted
me to his office in the town.
Malta is certainly not the most agreeable place to walk about in on
a broiling hot morning, and we ascended so many steep steps, and had
so much ground to get over, that I was heartily tired by the time
we reached Mr. Gallia’s place of business, where I waited for a few
letters, and then begged to be recommended to some good hotel, where I
could find a warm bath and a breakfast. My request was met half way, by
a very polite offer of the services of one of the juniors to shew me
about the place, a proposal which I accepted with many acknowledgments.
We visited the governor’s palace, and mounted to the telegraph tower,
from whence is a good view over the island. It appears remarkably
sterile, and exhibits little more than low ranges of naked hills,
with here and there an insignificant village. The church of St. John
abounds with interesting mementos of the Knights of Malta, and boasts
some good tapestries and paintings, and an _extraordinary_ altar-piece
of lapis-lazuli, the which, all and sundry may be found described in
detail in every guide book to the East, and need no further comment on
my part. My kind cicerone dined with me at Baker’s Hotel, introducing
me to some novel fruits and dishes. Altogether I was much gratified
with my one day in Malta, where an English sovereign changes for
twenty shillings and sixpence, and “Cote Roti” is only half-a-crown
the bottle. Here I quitted the “Minos” for the “Lycurge,” another
steamer of the same size, and once on board, I discovered that I was
in quarantine, and entirely cut off from all further communication
with the shore. My baggage was all stowed in my berth, even to the
portmanteau, which is not generally allowed below; and I pounced with
much delight upon a clean shirt and other luxuries, which I feared I
should have difficulty in obtaining.
On touching at Syra, where we fell in with the line of steamers from
Constantinople, we took on board a number of Turkish families,
which gave our deck, for they were none of them cabin passengers, a
very novel appearance. The men smoked away the time on their prayer
carpets, watching the gambols of their children, and leaving unheeded
and unnoticed the poor women, who sat huddled away in one mass as much
out of view as possible, and veiled up to the eyes in black silk. At
their mid-day meal, however, there was a general commotion, and a
great scrambling round a large wooden bowl of mish-mish, into which
all dipped their fingers most unceremoniously. In return for a pencil
sketch which I made of one of the men, I was invited to partake of
his coffee and pipe, and a seat on his mat--though I found the latter
involved so very uncomfortable a position, that I could not long enjoy
his company. The coffee and long chibouk were excellent.