transcriber's notes: . page scan source: http://www.archive.org/details/scarletbanner dahngoog . the diphthongs oe and oe is represented by [oe] and [oe]. the scarlet banner _novels by felix dahn_ translated by mary j. safford a captive of the roman eagles. $ . felicitas. $ . the scarlet banner. $ . published by a. c. mcclurg & co. the scarlet banner _by_ felix dahn translated from the german by mary j. safford translator of "a captive of the roman eagles," "felicitas," etc. chicago a. c. mcclurg & co. copyright a. c. mcclurg & co. _right of dramatization reserved_ published october , university press . john wilson and son . cambridge . u.s.a. dedicated in deep reverence and warm friendship to his excellency acting privy-councillor and professor herr dr. karl hase of jena _only through the same virtues by which they were founded will kingdoms be maintained._ sallustius, catilina. _o, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!_ shakespeare, hamlet. preface this story, published in germany under the title of _gelimer_ is the third volume in the group of romances to which "felicitas" and "the captive of the roman eagles" belong, and, like them, deals with the long-continued conflict between the germans and the romans. but in the present novel the scene of the struggle is transferred from the forests of germania to the arid sands of africa, and, in wonderfully vivid pen-pictures, the author displays the marvellous magnificence surrounding the descendants of the vandal genseric, the superb pageants of their festivals, and the luxury whose enervating influence has gradually sapped the strength and courage of the rude, invincible warriors--once the terror of all the neighboring coasts and islands--till their enfeebled limbs can no longer support the weight of their ancestors' armor, and they cast aside their helmets to crown themselves with the rose-garlands of roman revellers. the pages glow with color as the brilliant changeful vision of life in carthage, under the vandal rule, rises from the mists of the vanished centuries, and the characters which people this ancient world are no less varied. the noble king, the subtle roman, verus, the gallant warrior, zazo, hilda, the beautiful, fearless ostrogoth princess, the wily justinian, his unscrupulous empress, theodora, and their brave, impetuous general, belisarius, are clearly portrayed; and, underlying the whole drama, surges the fierce warfare between roman catholic and arian, while the place and the period in which the scenes of the romance are laid, both comparatively little known, lend a peculiar charm and freshness to the gifted author's narrative. mary j. safford. highfield cottage, douglas hill, maine, august , . the scarlet banner _book one_ before the war chapter i to cornelius cethegus cÆsarius, a friend: i send these notes to you rather than to any other man. why? first of all, because i know not where you are, so the missive will probably be lost. doubtless that would be the best thing which could happen, especially for the man who would then be spared reading these pages! but it will also be well for me that these lines should lie--or be lost--in some other place than here. for here in constantinople they may fall into certain dainty little well-kept hands, which possibly might gracefully wave an order to cut off my head--or some other useful portion of my anatomy to which i have been accustomed since my birth. but if i send these truths hence to the west, they will not be so easily seized by those dangerous little fingers which discover every secret in the capital, whenever they search in earnest. whether you are living in your house at the foot of the capitol, or with the regent at ravenna, i do not know; but i shall despatch this to rome, for toward rome my thoughts fly, seeking cethegus. you may ask derisively why i write what is so dangerous. because i must! i praise--constrained by fear--so many people and things with my lips that i condemn in my heart, that i must at least confess the truth secretly in writing. well, i might write out my rage, read it, and then throw the pages into the sea, you say. but--and this is the other reason for this missive--i am vain, too. the cleverest man i know must read, must praise what i write, must be aware that i was not so foolish as to believe all i extolled to be praiseworthy. later perhaps i can use the notes,--if they are not lost,--when at some future day i write the true history of the strange things i have experienced and shortly shall undergo. so keep these pages if they do reach you. they are not exactly letters; it is a sort of diary that i am sending to you. i shall expect no answer. cethegus does not need me, at present. why should cethegus write to me, now? yet perhaps i shall soon learn your opinion from your own lips. do you marvel? true, we have not met since we studied together at athens. but possibly i may soon seek you in your italy. for i believe that the war declared to-day against the vandals is but the prelude to the conflict with your tyrants, the ostrogoths. now i have written the great secret which at present is known to so few. it is a strange thing to see before one, in clear, sharp letters, a terrible fate, pregnant with blood and tears, which no one else suspects; at such times the statesman feels akin to the god who is forging the thunderbolt that will so soon strike happy human beings. pitiable, weak, mortal god! will your bolt hit the mark? will it not recoil against you? the demi-god justinian and the goddess theodora have prepared this thunder-bolt; the eagle belisarius will carry it; we are starting for africa to make war upon the vandals. now you know much, o cethegus. but you do not yet know all,--at least, not all about the vandals. so learn it from me; i know. during the last few months i have been obliged to deliver lectures to the two gods--and the eagle--about these fair-haired fools. but whoever is compelled to deliver lectures has sense enough bestowed upon him to perform the task. look at the professors at athens. since the reign of justinian the lecture-rooms have been closed to them. who still thinks them wise? so listen: the vandals are cousins of your dear masters, the ostrogoths. they came about a hundred years ago--men, women, and children, perhaps fifty thousand in number--from spain to africa. their leader was a terrible king, gizericus by name (commonly called genseric); a worthy comrade of attila, the hun. he defeated the romans in hard-fought battles, captured carthage, plundered rome. he was never vanquished. the crown passed to his heirs, the asdings, who were said to be descended from the pagan gods of the germans. the oldest male scion of the family always ascends the throne. but genseric's posterity inherited only his sceptre, not his greatness. the catholics in their kingdom (the vandals are heretics, arians) were most cruelly persecuted, which was more stupid than it was unjust. it really was not so very unjust; they merely applied to the catholics, the romans, in their kingdom the selfsame laws which the emperor in the roman empire had previously issued against the arians. but it was certainly extremely stupid. what harm can the few arians do in the roman empire? but the numerous catholics in the vandal kingdom could overthrow it, if they should rebel. true; they will not rise voluntarily. but we are coming to rouse them. shall we conquer? there is much probability of it. king hilderic lived in constantinople a long time, and is said to have secretly embraced the catholic faith. he is justinian's friend: this great-grandson of genseric abhors war. he has dealt his own kingdom the severest blow by transforming its best prop, the friendship with the ostrogoths in italy, into mortal hatred. the wise king theodoric at ravenna made a treaty of friendship and brotherhood with thrasamund, the predecessor of hilderic, gave him his beautiful, clever sister, amalafrida, for his wife, and bestowed upon the latter for her dowry, besides much treasure, the headland of lilybæum in sicily, directly opposite carthage, which was of great importance to the vandal kingdom. he also sent him as a permanent defence against the moors--probably against us too--a band of one thousand chosen gothic warriors, each of whom had five brave men under him. hilderic was scarcely king when the royal widow amalafrida was accused of high treason against him and threatened with death. if justinian and theodora did not invent this high treason, i have little knowledge of my adored rulers: i saw the smile with which they received the news from carthage. it was the triumph of the bird-catcher who draws his snare over the fluttering prey. amalafrida's goths succeeded in rescuing her from imprisonment and accompanying her on her flight. she intended to seek refuge with friendly moors, but on her way she was overtaken and attacked by the king's two nephews with a superior force. the faithful goths fought and fell almost to a man; the queen was captured and murdered in prison. since that time fierce hate has existed between the two nations; the goths took lilybæum back and from it cast vengeful glances at carthage. this is king hilderic's sole act of government! since that time he has seen clearly that it will be best for his people to be subject to us. but he is almost an old man, and his cousin--unfortunately the rightful heir to the throne--is our worst enemy. his name is gelimer. he must never be permitted to reign in carthage; for he is considered the stronghold and hero, nay, the soul of the vandal power. he first defeated the natives, the moors, those sons of the desert who had always proved superior to the weak descendants of genseric. but this gelimer--it is impossible for me to obtain from the contradictory reports a satisfactory idea of him. or could a german really possess such contradictions of mind and character? they are all mere children, though six and a half feet tall; giants, with the souls of boys. nearly all of them have a single trait,--the love of carousing. yet this gelimer--well, we shall see. widely varying opinions of the entire vandal nation are held here. according to some they are terrible foes in battle, like all germans, and as genseric's men undoubtedly were. but, from other reports, in the course of three generations under the burning sun of africa, and especially from living among our provincials there--the most corrupt rabble who ever disgraced the roman name--they have become effeminate, degenerate. the hero belisarius of course despises this foe, like every other whom he knows and does not know. the gods have intrusted to me the secret correspondence which is to secure success. i am now expecting important news from numerous moorish chiefs; from the vandal governor of sardinia; from your ostrogothic count in sicily; from the richest, most influential senator in tripolis; nay, even from one of the highest ecclesiastics--it is hard to believe--of the heretical church itself. the latter was a masterpiece. of course he is not a vandal, but a roman! no matter! an arian priest in league with us. i attribute it to our rulers. you know how i condemn their government of our empire; but where the highest statecraft is at stake,--that is, to win traitors in the closest councils of other sovereigns and thus outwit the most cunning, there i bow the knee admiringly to these gods of intrigue. if only-- a letter from belisarius summons me to the golden house: "bad news from africa! the war is again extremely doubtful. the apparent traitors there betrayed justinian, not the vandals. this comes from such false wiles. help, counsel me! belisarius." how? i thought the secret letters from carthage were to come, by disguised messengers, only to me? and through me to the emperor? that was his express order; i read it myself. yet still more secret ones arrive, whose contents i learn only by chance? this is your work, o demonodora! chapter ii the carthage of the vandals was still a stately, brilliant city, still the superb "colonia julia carthago" which augustus had erected according to the great cæsar's plan in the place of the ancient city destroyed by scipio. true, it was no longer--as it had been a century before--next to rome and constantinople the most populous city in the empire, but it had suffered little in the external appearance and splendor of its buildings; only the walls, by which it had been encircled as a defence against genseric, were partially destroyed in the assault by the vandals, and not sufficiently restored,--an indication of arrogant security or careless indolence. the ancient citadel, the ph[oe]nician "byrsa," now called the capitol, still overlooked the blue sea and the harbor, doubly protected by towers and iron chains. in the squares and the broad streets of the "upper city," a motley throng surged or lounged upon the steps of christian basilicas (which were often built out of pagan temples), around the amphitheatre, the colonnades, the baths with their beds of flowers and groups of palms, kept green and luxuriant by the water brought from long distances over the stately arches of the aqueduct. the "lower city," built along the sea, was inhabited by the poorer people, principally harbor workmen, and was filled with shops and storehouses containing supplies for ships and sailors. the streets were narrow, all running from south to north, from the inner city to the harbor, like the alleys of modern genoa. the largest square in the lower city was the forum of st. cyprian, named, for the magnificent basilica dedicated to this the most famous saint in africa. the church occupied the whole southern side of the square, from whose northern portion a long flight of marble steps led to the harbor (even at the present day, amid the solitude and desolation of the site of noisy, populous carthage, the huge ruins of the old sea gate still remain), while a broad street led westward to the suburb of aklas and the numidian gate, and another in the southeast rose somewhat steeply to the upper city and the capitol. into this great square one hot june evening a varied crowd was pouring from the western gate, the porta numidia,--romans and provincials, citizens of carthage, tradesmen and grocers, with many freedmen and slaves, moved by curiosity and delight in idleness, which attracted them to every brilliant, noisy spectacle. there were vandals among them, too; men, women, and children, whose yellow or red hair and fair skins were in strong contrast to those of the rest of the population, though the complexions of many were somewhat bronzed by the african sun. in costume they differed from the romans very slightly; many not at all. among these lower classes numbers were of mixed blood, children of vandal fathers who had married carthaginian women. here and there in the concourse appeared a moor, who had come from the border of the desert to the capital to sell ivory or ostrich feathers, lion and tiger skins, or antelope horns. the men and women of noble german blood were better--that is, more eager, wealthy, and lavish--buyers than the numerous impoverished roman senatorial families, whose once boundless wealth the government had confiscated for real or alleged high treason, or for persistent adherence to the catholic faith. not even a single roman of the better class was to be seen in the noisy, shouting crowd; a priest of the orthodox religion, who on his way to a dying man could not avoid crossing the square, glided timidly into the nearest side street, fear, abhorrence, and indignation all written on his pallid face. for this exulting throng was celebrating a vandal victory. in front of the returning troops surged the dense masses of the carthaginian populace, shouting, looking back, and often halting with loud acclamations. many pressed around the vandal warriors, begging for gifts. the latter were all mounted, many on fine, really noble steeds, descendants of the famous breed brought from spain and crossed with the native horses. the westering sun streamed through the wide-open west gate along the numidian way; the stately squadrons glittered and flashed in the vivid light which was dazzlingly reflected from the white sandy soil and the white houses. richly, almost too brilliantly, gold and silver glittered on helmets and shields, broad armlets, sword-hilts, and scabbards, even on the mountings which fastened the lance-heads to the shafts, and, in inlaid work, on the shafts themselves. in dress, armor, and ornaments upon rider and steed the most striking hues were evidently the most popular. scarlet, the vandal color, prevailed; this vivid light-red was used everywhere,--on the long, fluttering cloaks, the silken kerchiefs on the helmets, which fell over the neck and shoulders to protect them from the african sun, on the gayly painted, richly gilded quivers, and even on the saddles and bridles of the horses. among the skins which the desert animals furnished in great variety, the favorites were the spotted antelope, the dappled leopard, the striped tiger, while from the helmets nodded and waved the red plumage of the flamingo and the white feathers of the ostrich. the procession closed with several captured camels, laden with foemen's weapons, and about a hundred moorish prisoners, men and women, who, with hands tied behind their backs, clad only in brown and white striped mantles, marched, bareheaded and barefooted, beside the towering beasts, driven forward, like them, by blows from the spears of their mounted guards. on the steps of the basilica and the broad top of the wall of the harbor stairs, the throng of spectators was unusually dense; here people could comfortably watch the glittering train without danger from the fiery steeds. "who is yonder youth, the fair one?" asked a middle-aged man, with the dress and bearing of a sailor, pointing over the parapet as he turned to a gray-haired old citizen. "which do you mean, friend hegelochus? they are almost all fair." "indeed? well, this is the first time i have been among the vandals! my ship dropped anchor only a few hours ago. you must show and explain everything. i mean the one yonder on the white stallion; he is carrying the narrow red banner with the golden dragon." "oh, that is gibamund, 'the handsomest of the vandals,' as the women call him. do you see how he looks up at the windows of the palace near the capitol? among all the crowd gazing down from there he seeks but one." "but"--the speaker suddenly started--"who is the other at his right,--the one on the dun horse? i almost shrank when i met his eye. he looks like the youth, only he is much older. who is _he_?" "that is his brother gelimer; god bless his noble head!" "aha, so he is the hero of the day? i have often heard his name at home in syracuse. so he is the conqueror of the moors?" "yes, he has defeated them again, the torments. do you hear how the carthaginians are cheering him? we citizens, too, must thank him for having driven the robbers away from our villages and fields back to their deserts." "i suppose he is fifty years old? his hair is very gray." "he is not yet forty!" "just look, eugenes! he has sprung from his horse. what is he doing?" "didn't you see? a child, a roman boy, fell while trying to run in front of his charger. he lifted him up, and is seeking to find out whether he was hurt." "the child wasn't harmed; it is smiling at him and seizing his glittering necklet. there--he is unfastening the chain and putting it into the little fellow's hands. he kisses him and gives him back to his mother. hark, how the crowd is cheering him! now he has leaped back into the saddle. he knows how to win favor." "there you wrong him. it is his nature. he would have done the same where no eye beheld him. and he need not win the favor of the people: he has long possessed it." "among the vandals?" "among the romans, too; that is, the middle and lower classes. the senators, it is true, are different! those who still live in africa hate all who bear the name of vandal; they have good reason for it, too. but gelimer has a heart to feel for us; he helps wherever he can, and often opposes his own people; they are almost all violent, prone to sudden anger, and in their rage savagely cruel. i above all others have cause to thank him." "you? why?" "you saw eugenia, my daughter, before we left our house?" "certainly. into what a lovely girl the frail child whom you brought from syracuse a few years ago has blossomed!" "i owe her life, her honor, to gelimer. thrasaric, the giant, the most turbulent of all the nobles, snatched her from my side here in the open street at noonday, and carried the shrieking girl away in his arms. i could not follow as swiftly as he ran. gelimer, attracted by our screams, rushed up, and, as the savage would not release her, struck him down with a single blow and gave my terrified child back to me." "and the ravisher?" "he rose, laughed, shook himself, and said to gelimer: 'you did right, asding, and your fist is heavy.' and then since--" "well? you hesitate." "yes, just think of it; since then the vandal, as he could not gain her by force, is suing modestly for my daughter's hand. he, the richest noble of his nation, wishes to become my son-in-law." "why, that is no bad outlook." "princess hilda, my girl's patroness--she often sends for the child to come to her at the capitol and pays liberally for her embroideries--princess hilda herself speaks in his behalf. but i hesitate; i will not force her on any account." "well, what does she say?" "oh, the barbarian is as handsome as a picture. i almost believe--i fear--she likes him. but something holds her back. who can read a girl's heart? look, the leaders of the horsemen are dismounting--gelimer too--in front of the basilica." "strange. he is the hero,--the square echoes with his name,--and he looks so grave, so sad." "yes, there again! but did you see how kindly his eyes shone as he soothed the frightened child?" "certainly i did. and now--" "yes, there it is; a black cloud suddenly seems to fall upon him. there are all sorts of rumors about it among the people. some say he has a demon; others that he is often out of his mind. our priests whisper that it is pangs of conscience for secret crimes. but i will never believe that of gelimer." "was he always so?" "it has grown worse within a few years. satanas--saint cyprian protect us--is said to have appeared to him in the solitude of the desert. since that time he has been even more devout than before. see, his most intimate friend is greeting him at the basilica." "yonder priest? he is an arian; i know it by the oblong, narrow tonsure." "yes," replied the carthaginian, wrathfully, "it is verus, the archdeacon! curses on the traitor!" he clinched his fists. "traitor! why?" "well--renegade. he descends from an ancient roman senatorial family which has given the church many a bishop. his great-uncle was bishop laetus of nepte, who died a martyr. but his father, his mother, and seven brothers and sisters died under a former king amid the most cruel tortures, rather than abjure their holy catholic religion. this man, too,--he was then a youth of twenty,--was tortured until he fell as if dead. when he recovered consciousness, he abjured his faith and became an arian, a priest,--the wretch!--to buy his life. soon--for satan has bestowed great intellectual gifts upon him--he rose from step to step, became the favorite of the asdings, of the court, suddenly even the friend of the noble gelimer, who had long kept him coldly and contemptuously at a distance. and the court gave him this basilica, our highest sanctuary, dedicated to the great cyprian, which, like almost all the churches in carthage, the heretics have wrested from us." "but look--what is the hero doing? he is kneeling on the upper step of the church. now he is taking off his helmet." "he is scattering the dust of the marble stairs upon his head." "what is he kissing? the priest's hand?" "no, the case containing the ashes of the great saint. he is very devout and very humble. or shall i say he humiliates himself? he shuts himself up for days with the monks to do penance by scourging." "a strange hero of barbarian blood!" "the hero blood shows itself in the heat of battle. he is rising. do you see how his helmet--now he is putting it on again--is hacked by fresh blows? one of the two black vulture wings on the crest is cut through. the strangest thing is,--this warrior is also a bookworm, a delver into mystic lore; he has attended the lectures of athenian philosophers. he is a theologian and--" "a player on the lyre, too, apparently! see, a vandal has handed him a small one." "that is a harp, as they call it." "hark, he is touching the strings! he is singing. i can't understand." "it is the vandal tongue." "he has finished. how his germans shout! they are striking their spears on their shields. now he is descending the steps. what? without entering the church, as the others did?" "yes, i remember! he vowed, when he shed blood, to shun the saint's threshold for three days. now the horsemen are all mounting again." "but where are the foot soldiers?" "yes, that is bad--i mean for the vandals. they have none, or scarcely any: they have grown not only so proud, but so effeminate and lazy that they disdain to serve on foot. only the very poorest and lowest of the population will do it. most of the foot soldiers are moorish mercenaries, obtained for each campaign from friendly tribes." "ah, yes, i see moors among the soldiers." "those are men from the papua mountain. they plundered our frontiers for a long time. gelimer attacked their camp and captured their chief antalla's three daughters, whom he returned unharmed, without ransom. then antalla invited the asding to his tent to thank him; they concluded a friendship of hospitality,--the most sacred bond to the moors,--and since then they have rendered faithful service even against other moors. the parade is over. see, the ranks are breaking. the leaders are going to the capitol to convey to king hilderic the report of the campaign and the booty. look, the crowd is dispersing. let us go too. come back to my house; eugenia is waiting to serve the evening meal. come, hegelochus." "i am ready, most friendly host. i fear i may burden you a long time. business with the corn-dealers is slow." "why are you stopping? what are you looking at?" "i'm coming. only i must see this gelimer's face once more. i shall never forget those features, and all the strange, contradictory things which you have told me about him." "that is the way with most people. he is mysterious, incomprehensible,--'daimonios,' as the greeks say. let us go now! here! to the left--down the steps." chapter iii high above, on the capitolium of the city, towered the palatium, the royal residence of the asdings; not a single dwelling, but a whole group of buildings. originally planned as an acropolis, a fortress to rule the lower city and afford a view over both harbors across the sea, the encircling structures had been but slightly changed by genseric and his successors; the palace remained a citadel and was well suited to hold the carthaginians in check. a narrow ascent led up from the quay to a small gateway enclosed between solid walls and surmounted by a tower. this gateway opened into a large square resembling a courtyard, inclosed on all sides by the buildings belonging to the palace; the northern one, facing the sea, was occupied by the king's house, where the ruler himself lived with his family. the cellars extended deep into the rocks; they had often been used as dungeons, especially for state criminals. on the eastern side of the king's house, separated from it only by a narrow space, was the princes' house, and opposite to this, the arsenal; the southern side, sloping toward the city, was closed by the fortress wall, its gateway and tower. the handsomest room on the ground-floor of the princes' house was a splendidly decorated, pillared hall. in the centre, on a table of citrus wood, stood a tall, richly gilded jug with handles, and several goblets of different forms; the dark-red wine exhaled a strong fragrance. a couch, covered with a zebra skin, was beside it, on which, clinging together in the most tender embrace, sat "the handsomest of the vandals" and a no less beautiful young woman. the youth had laid aside his helmet, adorned with the silvery wing-feathers of the white heron; his long locks fell in waves upon his shoulders and mingled with the light golden hair of his young wife, who was eagerly trying to unclasp the heavy breast-plate; at last she let it fall clanking beside the helmet and sword-belt upon the marble floor. then, gazing lovingly at his noble face, she stroked back, with both soft hands, the clustering locks that curled around his temples, looking radiantly into his merry, laughing eyes. "do i really have you with me once more? do i hold you in my embrace?" she said in a low, tender tone, putting both arms on his shoulders and clasping her hands on his neck. "oh, my sweet one!" cried the warrior, snatching her to his heart and covering eyes, cheeks, and pouting lips with ardent kisses. "oh, hilda, my joy, my wife! how i longed for you--night and day--always!" "it is almost forty days," she sighed. "quite forty. ah, how long they seemed to me!" "oh, it was far easier for you! to be ever on the move with your brother, your comrades, to ride swiftly and fight gayly in the land of the foe. while i--i was forced to sit here in the women's rooms; to sit and weave and wait inactive! oh, if i could only have been there too! to dash onward by your side upon a fiery horse, ride, fight, and at last--fall, with you. after a hero's life--a hero's death!" she started up; her gray-blue eyes flashed with a wonderful light, and tossing back her waving hair she raised both arms enthusiastically. her husband gently drew her down again. "my high-hearted wife, my hilda," he said, smiling, "with the instinct of a seer your ancestor chose for you the name of the glorious leader of the valkyries. how much i owe old hildebrand, the master at arms of the great king of the goths! with the name the nature came to you. and his training and teaching probably did the rest." hilda nodded. "i scarcely knew my parents, they died so young. ever since i could remember i was under the charge and protection of the white-bearded hero. in the palace at ravenna he locked me in his apartments, keeping me jealously away from the pious sisters, the nuns, and from the priests who educated my playmates,--among them the beautiful mataswintha. i grew up with his other foster-child, dark-haired teja. my friend teja taught me to play the harp, but also to hurl spears and catch them on the shield. later, when the king, and still more his daughter, the learned amalaswintha, insisted that i must study with the women and the priests, how sullenly,"--she smiled at the remembrance,--"how angrily the old great-grandfather questioned me in the evening about what the nuns had taught me during the day! if i had recited the proverbs and latin hymns, the _deus pater ingenite_ or _salve sancta parens_ by sedulius--i scarcely knew more than the beginning!"--she laughed merrily--"he shook his massive head, muttered something in his long white beard, and cried: 'come, hilda! let's get out of doors. come on the sea. there i will tell you about the ancient gods and heroes of our people.' then he took me far, far from the crowded harbors into the solitude of a desolate, savage island, where the gulls circled and the wild swan built her nest amid the rushes; there we sat down on the sand, and, while the foaming waves rolled close to our feet, he told me tales of the past. and what tales old hildebrand could tell! my eyes rested intently on his lips as, with my elbows propped on his knee, i gazed into his face. how his sea-gray eyes sparkled! how his white hair fluttered in the evening breeze! his voice trembled with enthusiasm; he no longer knew where he was; he saw everything he related, or often--in disconnected words--sang. when the tale ended, he waked as if from a dream, started up and laughed, stroking my head: 'there! there! now i've once more blown those saints, with their dull, mawkish gentleness, out of your soul, as the north wind, sweeping through the church windows, drives out the smoke of the incense.' but they had taken no firm hold," she added, smiling. "and so you grew up half a pagan, as gelimer says," replied her husband, raising his finger warningly, "but as a full heroine, who believes in nothing so entirely as the glory of her people." "and in yours--and in your love," hilda murmured tenderly, kissing him on the forehead. "yet it is true," she added, "if you vandals had not been the nearest kinsfolk of my goths, i don't know whether i should have loved you--ah, no; i _must_ have loved you--when, sent by gelimer, you came to woo me. but as it is, to see you was to love you. i owe all my happiness to gelimer! i will always remember it: it shall bind me to him when otherwise," she added slowly and thoughtfully, "many things might repel me." "my brother desired, by this marriage, to end the hostility, bridge the gulf which had separated the two kingdoms since--since that bloody deed of hilderic. it did not succeed! he united only us, not our nations. he is full of heavy cares and gloomy thoughts." "yes. i often think he must be ill," said hilda, shaking her head. "he?--the strongest hero in our army! he alone--not even brother zazo--can bend my outstretched sword-arm." "not ill in body,--soul-sick! but hush! here he comes. see how sorrowful, how gloomy he looks. is that the brow, the face, of a conqueror?" chapter iv a tall figure appeared in the colonnade leading from the interior of the dwelling to the open doorway of the hall. this man without helmet, breastplate, or sword-belt wore a tight-fitting dark-gray robe, destitute of color or ornament. he often paused in his slow advance as if lost in meditation, with hands clasped behind his back; his head drooped forward a little, as though burdened by anxious thought. his lofty brow was deeply furrowed; his light-brown hair and beard were thickly sprinkled with gray, which formed a strange contrast to his otherwise youthful appearance. his eyes were fixed steadily on the floor,--their color and expression were still unrecognizable,--and pausing again under the pillared arch of the entrance, he sighed heavily. "hail, gelimer, victorious hero!" cried the young wife, joyously. "take what i have had ready for you ever since your return home was announced to-day." seizing a thick laurel wreath lying on the table before her, she eagerly raised it. a slight but expressive wave of the hand stopped her. "wreaths are not suited for the sinner's head," said the new-comer in a low tone, "but ashes, ashes!" hilda, hurt and sorrowful, laid down the garland. "sinner?" cried her husband, indignantly. "why, yes; so are we all--in the eyes of the saints. but you less than others. are we never to rejoice?" "let those rejoice who can!" "oh, brother, you too can rejoice. when the hero spirit comes, when the whirl of battle surrounds you, with loud shouts (i heard it myself and my heart exulted in your delight), you dashed before us all into the thickest throng of the moorish riders. and you cried aloud from sheer joy when you tore the banner from the hand of the fallen bearer; you had ridden him down by the mere shock of your charger's rush." "ay, that was indeed beautiful!" cried gelimer, suddenly lifting his head, while a pair of large brown eyes flashed from under long dark lashes. "isn't the cream stallion superb? he overthrows everything. he bears victory." "ay, when he bears gelimer!" exclaimed a clear voice, and a boy--scarcely beyond childhood, for the first down was appearing on his delicate rosy cheeks--a boy strongly resembling gibamund and gelimer glided across the threshold and rushed with outstretched arms toward the hero. "oh, brother, how i love you! and how i envy you! but on the next pursuit of the moors you must take me with you, or i will go against your will." and he threw both arms around his brother's towering figure. "ammata, my darling, my heart's treasure," cried gelimer, tenderly, stroking the lad's long golden locks with a loving touch, "i have brought you from the booty a little milk-white horse as swift as the wind. i thought of you the instant it was led before me. and you, fair sister-in-law, forgive me. i was unkind when i came in; i was foil of heavy cares. for i came--" "from the king," cried a deep voice from the corridor, and a man in full armor rushed in, whose strong resemblance to the others marked him as the fourth brother. features of noble mould, a sharp but finely modelled nose, broad brow, and yellow, fiery eyes set almost too deeply beneath arched brows were peculiar to all these royal asdings, the descendants of the sun-god frey. gelimer's glance alone was usually subdued as if veiled, dreamy as if lost in uncertainty; but when it suddenly flashed with enthusiasm or wrath its mighty glow was startling; and the narrow oval of the face, which in all was far removed from roundness, in gelimer seemed almost too thin. the man who had just entered was somewhat shorter than the latter, but much broader-chested and larger-limbed. his head, surrounded with short, close-curling brown hair, rested on a strong neck; the cheeks were reddened by health and robust vitality, and now by fierce anger. although only a year younger than gelimer, he seemed still a fiery youth beside his prematurely aged brother. in furious indignation he flung the heavy helmet, from which the crooked horns of the african bull buffalo threatened, upon the table, making the wine splash over the glasses. "from hilderic," he repeated, "the most ungrateful of human beings! what was the hero's reward for the new victory? suspicion! fear of rousing jealousy in constantinople! the coward! my beautiful sister-in-law, you have more courage in your little finger than this king of the vandals in his heart and his sword-hand. give me a cup of wine to wash down my rage." hilda quickly sprang up, filled the goblet, and offered it to him. "drink, brave zazo! hail to you and all heroes, and--" "to hell with hilderic!" cried the furious soldier, draining the beaker at a single draught. "hush, brother! what sacrilege!" exclaimed gelimer, with a clouded brow. "well, for aught i care, to heaven with him! he'll suit that far better than the throne of the sea-king genseric." "there you give him high praise," said gelimer. "i don't mean it. as i stood there while he questioned you so ungraciously, i could have--but reviling him is useless. something must be done. i remained at home this time for a good reason: it was hard enough for me to let you go forth to victory alone! but i secretly kept a sharp watch on this fox in the purple, and have discovered his tricks. send away this pair of wedded lovers, i think they have much to say to each other alone; the child ammata, too; and listen to my report, my suspicion, my accusation: not only against the king, but others also." gibamund threw his arm tenderly around his slender wife, and the boy ran out of the hall in front of them. chapter v gelimer sat down on the couch; zazo stood before him, leaning on his long sword, and began,-- "soon after you went to the field, pudentius came from tripolis to carthage." "again?" "yes, he is often at the palace and talks for hours, alone with the king. or with euages and hoamer, the king's nephews, our beloved cousins. the latter, arrogant blockhead, can't keep silent after wine. in a drunken revel he told the secret." "but surely not to you?" "no! to red-haired thrasaric." "the savage!" "i don't commend his morals," cried the other, laughing. "yet he has grown much more sedate since he is honestly trying to win the dainty eugenia. but he never lies. and he would die for the vandal nation; especially for you, whom he calls his tutor. you begin education with blows. in the grove of venus--" "the holy virgin, you mean," gelimer corrected. "if you prefer?--yes! but it does the virgin little honor, so long as the old customs remain. so, at a banquet in the shell grotto of that grove, thrasaric was praising you, and said you would restore the warlike fame of the vandals as soon as you were king, when hoamer shouted angrily: 'never! that will never be! constantinople has forbidden it. gelimer is the emperor's foe. when my uncle dies, _i_ shall be king; or the emperor will appoint pudentius regent of the kingdom. so it has been discussed and settled among us.'" "that was said in a fit of drunkenness." "under the influence of wine--and in wine is truth, the romans say. just at that moment pudentius came into the grotto. 'aha!' called the drunken man, 'your last letter from the emperor was worth its weight in gold. just wait till i am king, i will reward you: you shall be the emperor's exarch in tripolis.' "pudentius was greatly startled and winked at him to keep silence, but he went on: 'no, no! that's your well-earned reward.' all this was told me by thrasaric in the first outbreak of his wrath after he had rushed away from the banquet. but wait: there is more to come! this pudentius--do you believe him our friend?" "oh, no," sighed gelimer. "his grandparents and parents were cruelly slain by our kings because they remained true to their religion. how should the son and grandson love us?" zazo went close up to his brother, laid his hand heavily on his shoulder, and said slowly: "and _verus_? is _he_ to love us? have you forgotten how his whole family--?" gelimer shook his head mournfully: "forget _that_? i?" he shuddered and closed his eyes. then, rousing himself by a violent effort from the burden of his gloomy thoughts, he went on: "still your firmly rooted delusion! always this distrust of the most faithful among all who love me!" "oh, brother! but i will not upbraid you; your clear mind is blinded, blinded by this priest! it seems as if there were some miracle at work--" "it _is_ a miracle," interrupted gelimer, deeply moved, raising his eyes devoutly. "but what say you to the fact that this pudentius, whom you, too, do not trust, is admitted to the city secretly at night--by whom? by verus, your bosom friend!" "that is not true." "i have seen it. i will swear it to the priest's face. oh, if only he were here now!" "he is not far away. he told me--he was the first one of you all to greet me at the parade--that he longed to see me, he must speak to me at once. i appointed this place; as soon as the king dismissed me i would be here. do you see? he is already coming down the colonnade." chapter vi the tall, haggard priest who now came slowly into the hall was several years older than gelimer. a wide, dark-brown upper garment fell in mantle-like folds from his broad shoulders: his figure, and still more his unusually striking face, produced an impression of the most tenacious will. the features, it is true, were too sharply cut to be handsome; but no one who saw them ever forgot them. strongly marked thick black brows shaded penetrating black eyes, which, evidently by design, were always cast down; the eagle nose, the firmly closed thin lips, the sunken cheeks, the pallid complexion, whose dull lustre resembled light yellow marble, combined to give the countenance remarkable character. lips, cheeks, and chin were smoothly shaven, and so, too, was the black hair, more thickly mingled with gray than seemed quite suited to his age,--little more than forty years. each of his rare gestures was so slow, so measured, that it revealed the rigid self-control practised for decades, by which this impenetrable man ruled himself--and others. his voice sounded expressionless, as if from deep sadness or profound weariness, but one felt that it was repressed; it was a rare thing to meet his eyes, but they often flashed with a sudden fire, and then intense passion glowed in their depths. nothing that passed in this man's soul was recognizable in his features; only the thin lips, firmly as he closed them, sometimes betrayed by a slight, involuntary quiver that this rigid, corpse-like face was not a death-mask. gelimer had started up the instant he saw the priest, and now, hurrying toward him, clasped the motionless figure, which stood with arms hanging loosely before him, ardently to his heart. "verus, my verus!" he cried, "my guardian angel! and you!--_you_!--they are trying to make me distrust. really, brother, the stars would sooner change from god's eternal order in the heavens than this man fail in his fidelity to me." he kissed him on the cheek. verus remained perfectly unmoved. zazo watched the pair wrathfully. "he has more love, more feeling," he muttered, stroking his thick beard, "for that roman, that alien, than for--speak, priest, can you deny that last sunday, after midnight, pudentius--ah, your lips quiver--pudentius of tripolis was secretly admitted by you through the little door in the eastern gate and received in your house, beside your basilica? speak!" gelimer's eyes rested lovingly on his friend, and, smiling faintly, he shook his head. verus was silent. "speak," zazo repeated. "deny it if you dare. you did not suspect that i was watching in the tower after i had relieved the guard. i had long suspected the gate-keeper; he was once a slave of pudentius. you bought and freed him. do you see, brother? he is silent! i will arrest him at once. we will search for secret letters his house, his chest, the altars, the sarcophagi of his church, nay, even his clothes." now verus's black eyes suddenly blazed upon the bold soldier, then after a swift side-glance at gelimer were again bent calmly on the floor. "or do you deny it?" "no," fell almost inaudibly from the scarcely parted lips. "do you hear that, brother?" gelimer hastily advanced a step nearer to verus. "it was to tell you this that i requested an immediate interview," said the latter, quietly, turning his back on zazo. "that's what i call presence of mind!" cried zazo, laughing loudly. "but how will you prove it?" "i have brought the proof that pudentius is a traitor," verus went on, turning to gelimer, without paying the slightest attention to his accuser. "here it is." he slowly threw back his cloak, passed his hand through the folds of his under garment, and after a short search drew from his breast a small, crumpled strip of papyrus, which he handed to gelimer, who hurriedly unfolded it, and read,-- "in spite of your warning, we shall persist. belisarius is perhaps already on the way. give this to the king." both vandals were startled. "that letter?" asked gelimer. "was written by pudentius." "to whom?" "to me." "do you hear, brother?" exclaimed zazo. "he betrays--" "the betrayers," verus interrupted. "yes, gelimer, i have acted while you were hesitating, pondering, and this brave fool was sleeping, or--blustering. you remember, long ago i warned you that the king and his nephews were negotiating with constantinople." "did he do so really, brother?" asked zazo, eagerly. "long ago. and repeatedly." zazo shook his brown locks, angry, wondering, incredulous. but he said firmly,-- "then forgive me, priest,--if i have really done you injustice." "pudentius," verus continued, without replying, "was, i suspected, the go-between. i gained his confidence." "that is, you deceived him--as you are perhaps deluding us," muttered zazo. "silence, brother!" gelimer commanded imperiously. "it was not difficult to convince him. my family, like his, had by your kings--" he interrupted himself abruptly. "i expressed my anguish; i condemned your cruelty." "with justice! woe betide us, with justice!" groaned gelimer, striking his brow with his clenched fist. "i said that my friendship for you was not so strong as my resentment for all my kindred. he initiated me into the conspiracy. i was startled; for, in truth, unless god worked a miracle to blind him, the vandal kingdom was hopelessly lost. i warned him--to gain time until your return--of the cruel vengeance you would take upon all romans if the insurrection should be suppressed. he hesitated, promised to consider everything again, to discuss the matter once more with the king. there--this note, brought to me by a stranger to-day in the basilica, contains the decision. act quickly, or it may be too late." gelimer gazed silently into vacancy. but zazo drew his sword and was rushing from the hall. "where are you going?" asked the priest, in a low tone, seizing his arm. the grasp was so firm, so powerful, that the vandal could not shake it off. "where? to the king! to cut down the traitor and his allies! then assemble the army and--hail to king gelimer!" "silence, madman!" cried the latter, startled, as if his most secret wish were revealed to him, "you will stay here! would you add to all the sins which already burden the vandal race--especially our generation--the crime of dethronement, regicide, the murder of a kinsman? where is the proof of hilderic's guilt? was my long-cherished distrust not merely the fruit, but the pretext,--inspired by my own impatient desire for the throne? pudentius may lie--exaggerate. where is the proof that treason is planned?" "will you wait till it has succeeded?" cried zazo, defiantly. "no! but do not punish till it is proved." "there speaks the christian," said the priest, approvingly.--"but the proof must be quickly produced: this very day. listen, i have reason to believe that pudentius is in the city now." "we must have him!" cried zazo. "where is he? with the king?" "they do not work so openly. he steals into the palace only by night. but i know his hiding-place. in the grove of the holy virgin--the warm baths." "send me, brother! me! i will fly!" "go, then," replied gelimer, waving his hand. "but do not kill him," the priest called after the hurrying figure. "no, by my sword! we must have him alive." he vanished down the corridor. "oh, verus!" gelimer passionately exclaimed, "you faithful friend! shall i owe you the rescue of my people, as well as the deliverance of my own poor life from the most horrible death?" he eagerly clasped his hand. the priest withdrew it. "thank god for your own and your people's destiny, not me. i am only the tool of his will, from the hour i assumed the garb of this priesthood. but listen: to you alone dare i confide the whole truth; yonder blockhead would ruin everything by his blind impetuosity. your life is threatened. that does not alarm the hero! yet you must preserve it for your people. fall if fall you must, in battle, under the sword of belisarius" (gelimer's eyes sparkled, and a noble enthusiasm transfigured his face), "but do not perish miserably by murder." "murder? who would--?" "the king. no, do not doubt. pudentius told me. the nephews overruled his opposition. they know that you will baffle their plans so long as you live. you must never be permitted to become king of the vandals." here the black eyes shot a swift glance, then fell again. "we shall see!" cried gelimer, wrathfully. "i _will_ be king, and woe--" here he stopped suddenly. his breath came and went quickly. after a pause, repressing his vehemence, he asked humbly,-- "is this ambition a sin, my brother?" "you have a right to the crown," the other answered quietly. "if you should die, then, according to genseric's law of succession, hoamer, as the oldest male scion of the race, would follow. so they have persuaded the king to invite you on the day of your return to a secret interview in the palace--entirely alone--and there murder you." "impossible, my friend. i have already seen the king. he received me ungraciously, ungratefully; but," he smiled, "as you see, i am still alive." "you went to see the king, surrounded by all the leaders of your troops fully armed. but beware that he does not summon you again alone." "that would be strange. we discussed every subject of moment." at that instant steps echoed in the corridor. a negro slave handed gelimer a letter. "from the king," he said, and left the hall. the hero tore the cord that fastened the little wax tablet, glanced at the contents, and turned pale. it is true. come at the tenth hour in the evening to my sleeping room, with no companion. i have a secret matter to discuss with you. hilderic. "you see--" "no, no! i will not believe it. it may be accident. hilderic is weak; he hates me; but he is no murderer." "so much the better if pudentius lied. but it is the duty of the friend to warn. do not go there!" "i must! i fear for myself? does my verus know me so little?" "then do not go alone. take zazo with you, or gibamund." "impossible, against the king's command! and no one is permitted to have a private interview with the king except unarmed." "well, then, at least wear _under_ your robe the cuirass, which will protect you from a dagger-thrust. and the short-sword? cannot you conceal it in your sleeve or girdle?" "over-anxious friend!" said gelimer, smiling. "but for your sake i will put on the cuirass." "that is not enough for me. however, i will consider; there is one way of helping you in case of need. yes, that will do." "what do you mean?" "hush! i will pray that my thoughts may be fulfilled. you, too, my brother, pray. for you, we all, are to meet great dangers; and god alone sees the--" here he stopped suddenly, clasped both hands around his head, and with a hoarse cry sank upon the couch. "alas, verus!" exclaimed gelimer. "are you faint?" hastily seizing the mixing vessel, he sprinkled water on the insensible man's face, and rubbed his hands. the priest opened his eyes again, and by a great effort, sat erect. "never mind; it is over! but the strain of this hour--was probably--too much. i will go--no, i need no support--to the basilica, to pray. send zazo there as soon as he returns--before you go to the king; do you hear? god grant my ardent desire!" chapter vii to cethegus, a friend. the vandal war has been given up, and for what pitiable reasons! you know that i have thought it far wiser for our rulers to attend to the matters immediately around us than to meddle with the barbarians. for so long as this unbearable burden of taxation and abuse of official power continues in the roman empire, so long every conquest, every increase in the number of our subjects, will merely swell the list of unfortunates. yet if africa could be restored to the empire, we ought not to relinquish the proud thought from sheer cowardice! there stands the ugly word,--unhappily a true one. from cowardice? not theodora's. indeed, that is not one of the faults of this delicate, otherwise womanly woman. two years ago, when the terrible insurrection of the greens and blues in the circus swept victoriously over the whole city, when justinian despaired and wished to fly, theodora's courage kept him in the palace, and belisarius's fidelity saved him. but this time the blame does not rest upon the emperor; it is the cowardice of the roman army, or especially, the fleet. true, justinian's zeal has cooled considerably since the failure of the crafty plan to destroy genseric's kingdom; almost without a battle, principally by "arts,"--treachery, ordinary people term them. hilderic, at an appointed time, was to send his whole army into the interior for a great campaign against the moors; our fleet was to run into the unprotected harbors of carthage, land the army, occupy the city, and make hilderic, hoamer, and a senator the emperor's three governors of the recovered province of africa. but this time we crafty ones were outwitted by a brain still more subtle. our friend from tripolis writes that he was deceived in the arian priest whom he believed he had won for our cause. this man, at first well disposed, afterwards became wavering, warned, dissuaded--nay, perhaps even betrayed the plan to the vandals. so an open attack must be made. this pleased belisarius, but not the emperor. he hesitated. meanwhile--heaven knows through whom--the rumor of the coming vandal war spread through the court, into the city, among the soldiers and sailors; and--disgrace and shame on us--nearly all the greatest dignitaries, the generals, and also the army and the fleet were seized with terror. all remembered the last great campaign against this dreaded foe, when, two generations ago--it was under the emperor leo--the full strength of the whole empire was employed. the ruler of the western empire attacked the vandals simultaneously in sardinia and tripolis. constantinople accomplished magnificent deeds. one hundred and thirty thousand pounds of gold were used; basiliscus, the emperor's brother-in-law, led a hundred thousand warriors to the carthaginian coast. all were destroyed in a single night. genseric attacked with firebrands the triremes packed too closely together at the promontory of mercury, while his swift horsemen at the same time assailed the camp on the shore; fleet and army were routed in blood and flame. even to the present day do the prefect and the treasurer lament the loss. "it will be just the same now as it was then. the last money in the almost empty coffers will be flung into the sea!" but the generals (except belisarius and narses), what heroes they are! each fears that the emperor will choose him. and how, even if they overcome the terrors of the ocean, is a landing to be made upon a hostile coast defended by the dreaded germans? the soldiers, who have just returned from the persian war, have barely tasted the joys of home. they are talking mutinously in every street; no sooner returned from the extreme east, they must be sent to the farthest west, to the pillars of hercules, to fight with moors and vandals. they were not used to sea-battles, were not trained for them, were not enlisted for the purpose, and therefore were under no obligations. the prefect, especially, represented to the emperor that carthage was a hundred and fifty days' march by land from egypt, while the sea was barred by the invincible fleet of the vandals. "don't meddle with this african wasp's nest," he warned him. "or the corsair ships will ravage all our coasts and islands as they did in the days of genseric." and this argument prevailed. the emperor has changed his mind. how the hero belisarius fumes and rages! theodora resents--in silence. but she vehemently desired this war! i am really no favorite of hers. i am far too independent, too much the master of my own thoughts, and my conscience pricks me often enough for my insincerity. she certainly has the best--that is, the best trained--conscience: it no longer disturbs her. doubtless she smoothed down its pricks long ago. but i have repeatedly received the dainty little papyrus rolls whose seal bears a scorpion surrounded by flames,--little notes in which she earnestly urged me to the "war spirit," if i desired to retain her friendship. chapter viii since i wrote this--a few days ago--new and important tidings have come from africa. great changes have taken place there, which perhaps may force the vacillating emperor to go to war. what our statecraft had striven in the most eager and crafty manner to prevent has already happened in spite of this effort, perhaps in consequence of it. gelimer is king of the vandals! the archdeacon verus--all names can be mentioned now--had really spun webs against, not for us. he betrayed everything to gelimer! pudentius of tripolis, who was secretly living in carthage, was to have been seized; verus had betrayed his hiding-place. it is remarkable, by the way, that pudentius hastily fled from the city a short time before, on the priest's swiftest horse. that same day a mysterious event occurred in the palace, of which nothing is known definitely except the result--for gelimer is king of the vandals; but the connection, the causes, are very differently told. some say that gelimer wanted to murder the king, others that the king tried to kill gelimer. others again whisper--so pudentius writes--of a secret warning which reached the king: a stranger informed him by letter that gelimer meant to murder him at their next private interview. the sovereign, to convince himself, must instantly summon him to one; the assassin would either refuse to come, from fear awakened by an evil conscience, or he would appear--contrary to the strict prohibition of court laws--secretly armed. hilderic must provide himself with a coat of mail and a dagger, and have help close at hand. the king obeyed this counsel. it is certain that he summoned gelimer on the evening of that very day to an interview in his bedroom on the ground-floor of the palace. gelimer came. the king embraced him, and in doing so, discovered the armor under his robe and called for help. the ruler's two nephews, hoamer and euages, rushed with drawn swords from the next room to kill the assassin. but at the same moment gelimer's two brothers, whom verus had concealed amid the shrubbery in the garden, sprang through the low windows of the ground-floor. the king and euages were disarmed and taken prisoners; hoamer escaped. hastening into the courtyard of the capitol, he called the vandals to arms to rescue their king, who had been murderously attacked by gelimer. the barbarians hesitated: hilderic was unpopular, gelimer a great favorite, and the people did not believe him capable of such a crime. the latter now appeared, gave the lie to his accuser, and charged hilderic and his nephews with the attempt at assassination. to decide the question he challenged hoamer to single combat in the presence of the whole populace, and killed him at the first blow. the vandals tumultuously applauded him, at once declared hilderic deposed, and proclaimed gelimer, who was the legal heir, their king. it was with the utmost difficulty that his intercession saved the lives of the two captives. verus is said to have been made prothonotary and chancellor, gelimer's chief councillor, since he saved his life! we know better, we who were betrayed, how this priest earned his reward at our expense. but i believe that this change of ruler will compel the war. it is now a point of honor with justinian to save or avenge his dethroned and imprisoned friend. i have already composed a wonderful letter to the "tyrant" gelimer which closes thus: "so, contrary to justice and duty, you are keeping your cousin, the rightful king of the vandals, in chains, and robbing him of the crown. replace him on the throne, or know that we will march against you, and in so doing (this sentence the emperor of the pandects dictated word for word)--in so doing we shall not break the compact of perpetual peace formerly concluded with genseric, for we shall not be fighting against genseric's lawful successor, but to avenge him." note the legal subtlety. the emperor is more proud of that sentence than belisarius of his great persian victory at dara. if this gelimer should actually do what we ask, the avengers of justice would be most horribly embarrassed. for we _desire_ this war; that is, we wanted africa long before the occurrence of the crime which we shall march to avenge--unless we prefer, with wise economy and caution, to remain at home. * * * * * we have received the vandal's answer. a right royal reply for a barbarian and tyrant. "the sovereign gelimer to the sovereign justinian "--he uses the same word, "basileus," for emperor and for king, the bold soldier. "i did not seize the sceptre by violence, nor have i committed any crime against my kindred. but the vandal people deposed hilderic because he himself was planning evil against the asding race, against the rightful heir to the throne, against our kingdom. the law of succession summoned me, as the oldest of the asding family after hilderic, to the empty throne. "he is a praiseworthy ruler, o justinianus, who wisely governs his own kingdom and does not interfere with foreign states. if you break the peace guarded by sacred oaths, and attack us, we shall manfully defend ourselves, and appeal to god, who punishes perjury and wrong." good! i like you. king gelimer! i am glad to have our emperor of lawyers told that he must not blow what is not burning him: a proverb which to me seems a tolerably fair embodiment of all legal wisdom. true, i have my own thoughts concerning the divine punishment of all earthly injustice. the barbarian's letter has highly incensed justinian, another proof that the barbarian is right. but i believe we shall put this answer in our pockets just as quietly as we returned to its sheath the sword we had already drawn. the emperor inveighs loudly against the tyrant, but the army shouts still more loudly that it will not fight. and the empress--is silent. chapter ix meanwhile king gelimer was moving forward with all his power to preparations for the threatening conflict. he found much, very much, to be done. the king, assuming the chief direction, and working wherever he was needed, had given zazo charge of the fleet and gibamund that of the army. one sultry august evening he received their reports. the three brothers had met in the great throne-room and armory of the palace, into which gelimer had now moved; the open windows afforded a magnificent view of the harbors and the sea beyond them; the north wind brought a refreshing breath from the salt tide. this portion of the ancient citadel had been rebuilt by the vandal kings, changed to suit the necessities of life in a german palace. the round column of the greeks had been replaced, in imitation of the wood used in the construction of the german halls, by huge square pillars of brown and red marble, which africa produced in the richest variety. the ceiling was wainscoted with gayly painted or burned wood, and, on both stone and timber, besides the house-mark of the asdings,--an a transfixed by an arrow,--many another rune, even many a short motto, was inscribed in gothic characters. costly crimson silk hangings waved at the open arched windows; the walls were set with slabs of polished marble in the most varied contrast of often vivid colors, for the barbarian taste loved bright hues. the floor was composed of polished mosaic, but it was rough and not well fitted. genseric had simply brought whole shiploads of the brightest hues he could drag from the palaces of plundered rome, with statues and bas-reliefs, which were put together here with little choice. opposite to the side facing the sea, rose, at the summit of five steps, a stately structure, the throne of genseric. the steps were very broad; they were intended to accommodate the king's enormous train, the palatines and gardings, the leaders of the thousands and hundreds, stationed according to their rank and the ruler's favor. in their rich fantastic costumes and armor, a combination of german and roman taste, they often gathered closely around the sovereign and stood crowding together; the scarlet silk vandal banners fluttered above them, and a golden dragon swung by a rope from the tent-like canopy of the lofty purple throne. when from this throne, at whose feet, as a symbolical tribute from conquered moorish princes, lion and tiger skins lay piled a foot high, the mighty sea-king arose, swinging around his head with angry, threatening words the seven-lashed scourge (a gift from his friend attila), many an envoy of the emperor forgot the arrogant speech he had prepared. the wonderful splendor of this hall fairly bewildered the eye; but its richest ornament was the countless number of weapons of every variety, and of every nation, principally german, roman, and moorish; but also from all the other coasts and islands which the sea-king's corsair ships could visit. they covered all the pillars and walls; nay, the shields and breastplates were even spread over the entire ceiling. a strange, dazzling light now poured over all this bronze, silver, and gold, as the slanting rays of the setting sun streamed from the northwest into the hall. a broad white marble table was completely covered with parchment and papyrus rolls, containing lists of the bodies of troops, by thousands and hundreds, drawings of ships, maps of the vandal kingdom, charts of the bay of gades and the tyrrhenian sea. "you have accomplished more than the possible during the weeks i have been in the west, trying to bring the vandals thence to carthage," said the king, laying down a wax tablet on which he had been computing figures. "true, we are far, far from possessing the numbers or the strength of the ships which formerly bore 'the terror of the vandals' to every shore. but these hundred and fifty will be amply sufficient, and more than sufficient, to defend our own coast and to prevent a landing, if behind the fleet there stands a body of foot soldiers on the shore." "no, do not sigh, my gibamund," cried zazo. "our brother knows it is no fault of yours that the army is not--cannot accomplish what--" "oh," exclaimed gibamund, wrathfully, "it is all in vain! no matter what i do, they will not drill. they want to drink and bathe and carouse and ride and see the games in the circus, indulge in everything that consumes a man's marrow in that accursed grove of venus." "but that abomination ended yesterday," said the king. "much you know about it, o gelimer," said zazo, shaking his head. "you have accomplished miracles since you wore this heavy crown; but to cleanse the grove of venus--" "not cleanse; close!" replied the king, sternly. "it has been closed since yesterday." "i must complain, accuse many," gibamund went on, "especially the nobles. they refuse to fight on foot, to take part in the drill of the foot soldiers. you know how much we need them. they appeal to the privileges bestowed by weak sovereigns; they say they are no longer obliged to enter the ranks of the foot soldiers! hilderic permitted every vandal to buy freedom from it, if he would hire in his place two moorish or other mercenaries." "i have abolished these privileges." "oh, yes. and during your absence there was open rebellion; blood flowed on that account in the streets of carthage. but the worst thing is, that these effeminate nobles and the richer citizens _can_ no longer fight on foot. they say--and unfortunately it is true--that they can no longer bear the weight of the heavy helmets, breastplates, shields, and spears, no longer hurl the lances which i had brought out again from genseric's arsenal." "they are of course required to arm themselves," said zazo. "so why--" "because most have sold the ancient weapons or exchanged them for jewels, wine, dainties, or female slaves; or else for arms that are mere ornaments and toys. i allow no one to enter the army with this rubbish; and before they are properly equipped, the victory and the empire might be lost. but it is true: they can no longer carry genseric's armor. they would fall in a short time. they are swearing because we are now in the very hottest months." "are we to tell the enemy that the vandals fight only in the winter?" cried zazo, laughing. "therefore to fill the ranks of our foot soldiers i have already obtained many thousand moorish mercenaries," the king replied. "of course these sons of the desert, variable, impetuous, changeful, like the sands of their home, are a poor substitute for german strength. but i have gained twenty chiefs with about ten thousand men." "is cabaon, the graybeard of countless years, among them?" asked gibamund. "no, he delays his answer." "it is a pity. he is the most powerful of them all! and his prophetic renown extends far beyond his tribe," observed zazo. "well, we shall have better assistants than the moorish robbers," said gibamund, consolingly. "the brave visigoths in spain." "have you yet received an answer from their king?" "yes and no! king theudis is shrewd and cautious. i urged upon him earnestly (i wrote the letter myself; i did not leave it to verus) that constantinople was not threatening us vandals solely; that the imperial troops could easily cross the narrow straits from ceuta, if we were once vanquished. i offered him an alliance. he answered evasively: he must first be sure of what we could accomplish in the war." "what does he mean by that?" cried zazo, angrily. "i suppose he wants to wait till the end of the conflict. whether we conquer or are vanquished, we shall no longer need him!" "i wrote again, still more urgently. his answer will soon come." "but the ostrogoths?" asked gibamund, eagerly. "what do they reply?" "nothing at all." "that is bad," said gibamund. "i wrote to the regent: i stated that i was innocent of hilderic's shameful deed. i warned her against justinian, who was threatening her no less than us; i reminded her of the close kinship of our nations--" "you have not yet stooped to entreaties?" asked zazo, indignantly. "by no means. i besought nothing. i merely requested, as our just right, that the ostrogoths at least would not aid our foes. as yet i have had no answer. but worse than the lack of allies, the most perilous thing is the utter, foolish undervaluation of the enemy among our own people," added the king. "yes! they say, why should we weary ourselves with drilling and arming? the little greeks won't dare to attack us! and if they really do come, the grandsons of genseric will destroy the grandsons of basiliscus just as genseric destroyed him." "but we are no longer genseric's vandals!" gelimer lamented. "genseric brought with him an army of heroes, brave, trained by twenty years of warfare with other germans and with the romans in the mountains of spain, simple, plain in tastes, rigid in morals. he closed the houses of roman pleasure in carthage; he compelled all women of light fame to marry or enter convents." "but how that suited the husbands and the other nuns is not told," replied zazo, laughing. "and now, to-day, our youths are as corrupt as the most profligate romans. to the cruelty of the fathers"--the king sighed deeply--"is added the dissipation, the intemperance, the effeminate indolence of the sons. how can such a nation endure? it must succumb." "but we asdings," said gibamund, drawing himself up to his full height, while his eyes sparkled and a noble look transfigured his whole face, "we are unsullied by such stains." "what sins have we--you and we two committed," zazo added, "that we must perish?" again the king sighed heavily, his brow clouded, he lowered his eyes. "we? do we not bear the curse which--but hush! not a word of that! it is the last straw of my hope that i, the king, at least wear this crown without guilt. were i obliged to accuse myself of that, woe betide me! oh--whose is this cold hand? you, verus? you startled me." "he steals in noiselessly, like a serpent," zazo muttered in his beard. the priest--he had retained, even as chancellor, the ecclesiastical robe--had entered unobserved; how long before, no one knew. his eyes were fixed intently upon gelimer, as he slowly withdrew the hand he had laid upon his friend's bare arm. "yes, my sovereign, keep this anxiety of conscience. guard your soul from guilt. i know your nature; it would crush you." "you shall not make my brother still more gloomy," cried zazo, indignantly. "gelimer and guilt!" exclaimed gibamund, throwing his arm around the king's neck. "he is only too conscientious, too much given to pondering," zazo went on. "really, gelimer, you, too, are no longer like genseric's vandals. you are infected also; not by roman vices, but by roman or greek or christian brooding over subtle questions. to put it more courteously: gnosticism, theosophy, or mysticism? i know nothing about it, cannot even think of it. how glad i am that our father did not send me to be educated by the priests and philosophers! he soon discovered that zazo's hard skull was fit only for the helmet, not to carry a reed behind the ear. but you! i always felt as though i were going into a dungeon when i visited you in your gloomy, high-walled monastery, in the solitude of the desert. many, many years you dreamed away there among the books--lost." "not lost!" replied gibamund. "he found time to become the chief hero of his people. on him rests the hope of the vandals." "on the whole house of the asdings! we are not degenerates," answered the king. "but can a single family--even though it is the reigning one--stay the sinking of a whole nation? uplift one that has fallen so low?" "hardly," said verus, shaking his head. "for who can say of himself that he is free from sin? and," he added slowly, suddenly raising his eyes and fixing them full upon gelimer, "the sins of the fathers--" "stay," exclaimed the king, groaning aloud, as if in anguish. "not that thought now--when i must act, create, accomplish. it will paralyze me." he pressed his hand over his eyes and brow. "even at the present time," the priest continued, "sin is dominant everywhere among the people. it cries aloud to heaven for vengeance. just now i was obliged, to comfort a dying man--" "even as chancellor of the kingdom, he does not forget the duties of the priest," said gelimer, turning to his brothers. "to go near the southern gate. again, from that grove devoted to every vice, there fell upon my ear the uproar, the infernal jubilee of evil revel. those shameless songs--" "what?" cried the king, wrathfully, striking the marble table with his clinched fist. "do they dare? did i not order, before my departure for hippo, that all these games and festivals should cease? did i not fix yesterday as the final limit, after which the grove must be cleared and all its houses closed? i sent three hundred lancers to see that my commands were obeyed. what are they doing?" "those who are no longer dancing and drinking are asleep, weary of carousing, full of wine, which they drank, like all who were there. i saw a little group snoring under the archway of the gate." "i will give them a terrible awakening," cried the king. "must sin actually devour us?" "that grove is beyond cure," said zazo. "what the sword cannot do, the flames will," exclaimed the king, threateningly. "i will sweep through them like the wrath of god! up, follow me, my brothers!" he rushed out of the room. "order the hundreds of horsemen to mount, gibamund," said zazo, as they crossed the threshold,--"the household troop, under faithful markomer. for the vandals no longer obey the king's word unless at the same time they see the glitter of the king's sword." the archdeacon, muttering softly to himself and shaking his head, slowly followed the three asdings. chapter x the "lower city" of carthage extended northward to the harbor, westward to the suburb of aklas, the numidian, and eastward to the tripolitan suburb. directly beyond its southern gate, covering a space more than two leagues long and a league wide, lay the oft-mentioned "grove of venus" or "grove of the holy virgin." from the most ancient pagan times this grove was the scene of the sumptuous, sensual revels which were proverbial throughout the roman empire. "african" was the word used to express the acme of such orgies. the whole coast of the bay in this neighborhood, kept moist by the damp sea-air, had originally been covered with dense woods. the larger portion had long since yielded to the growth of the city; but, by the emperor's order, a considerable part was retained and transformed into a magnificent park, adorned with all the skill and the lavish expenditure which characterized the time of the cæsars. the main portion of this grove consisted of date palms. these were introduced by the phoenicians. the palm, say the arabs, gladly sets her feet as queen of the desert into damp sand, but lifts her head into the glow of the sun. it thrived magnificently here, and in centuries of growth the slender columns of the trunks attained a height of fifty feet; no sunbeam could penetrate vertically through the roof of drooping leaves of those thick crowns, which rustled and nodded dreamily in the wind, wooing, inviting to sleep, to unresisting indolence, to drowsy thoughts. but they stood sufficiently far apart to allow the light and air to enter from the sides and to permit smaller trees (dwarf palms), bushes, and flowers to grow luxuriantly beneath the shelter of the lofty crowns. besides the palms, other noble trees had been first planted and fostered by human hands, then had increased through the peerless fertility of nature: the plane-tree, with its lustrous light bark; the pine, the cypress, and the laurel; the olive, which loves the salt breath of the sea; the pomegranate, so naturalized here that its fruit was called "the carthaginian apple"; while figs, citrus-trees, apricots, peaches, almonds, chestnuts, pistachios, terebinths, oleanders, and myrtles,--sometimes as large trees, sometimes as shrubs,--formed, as it were, the undergrowth of the glorious palm forest. and the skill in gardening of the roman imperial days, which has scarcely been equalled since, aided by irrigation from the immense aqueducts, had created here, on the edge of the desert, marvels of beauty. "desert" was a misnomer; the real desert lay much farther in the interior. first there was a thick luxuriant green turf, which, even in the hottest days of the year, had hardly a single sunburnt patch. the wind had borne the flower-seeds from the numerous beds, and now everywhere amid the grass blossoms shone in the vivid, glowing hues with which the african sun loves to paint. the parterres of flowers which were scattered through the entire grove suffered, it is true, from a certain monotony. the variety that now adorns our gardens was absent: the rose, the narcissus, the violet, and the anemone stood almost alone; but these appeared in countless varieties, in colors artificially produced, and were often made to blossom before or after their regular season. in this world of trees, bushes, and flowers the lavishness of the emperors (who had formerly often resided here), the munificence of the governors, and still more the endowments of wealthy citizens of carthage had erected an immense number of buildings of every variety. for centuries patriotism, a certain sense of honor, and often vanity, boastfulness, and a desire to perpetuate a name, had induced wealthy citizens to keep themselves in remembrance by erecting structures for the public benefit, laying out pleasure-grounds, and putting up monuments. this local patriotism of the former citizens, both in its praiseworthy and its petty motives, had by no means died out. solemn tombs separated by very narrow spaces lined both sides of the broad street of legions, which ran straight through the grove from north to south. besides these there were buildings of every description, and also baths, ponds, little lakes with waterworks, marble quays, and dainty harbors for the light pleasure-boats, circus buildings, amphitheatres, stages, stadia for athletic sports, hippodromes, open colonnades, temples with all their numerous and extensive outbuildings scattered everywhere through the grounds of the whole park. the grove had originally been dedicated to aphrodite (venus), therefore statues of this goddess and of eros (cupid) appeared most frequently in the wide grounds, though christian zeal had shattered the heads, breasts, and noses of many such figures and broken the bow of many a cupid. since the reign of constantine, most of the pagan temples had been converted into christian oratories and churches, but by no means all; and those that had been withdrawn from the service of the pagan religion and not used for the christian one had now for two centuries, with their special gardens, arbors, and grottoes, been the scenes of much vice, gambling, drunkenness, and matters even worse. the gods had been driven out; the demons had entered. among more than a hundred buildings in the grove, two near the southern gate of the city were specially conspicuous: the old circus and the amphitheatre of theodosius. the old circus had been erected in the period of the greatest prosperity of carthage, the whole spacious structure, with its eighty thousand seats, was planned to accommodate its great population. now most of the rows stood empty; many of the roman families, since the vandal conquest, had moved away, been driven forth, exiled. the rich bronze ornaments of numerous single seats, rows, and boxes had been broken off. this was done not by the vandals, who did not concern themselves about such trifles, but by the roman inhabitants of the city and by the neighboring peasants; they even wrenched off and carried away the marble blocks from the buildings in the grove. the granite lower story, a double row of arches, supported the rows of marble seats, which rose from within like an amphitheatre. outside, the circus was surrounded by numerous entrances and outside staircases, besides niches occupied as shops, especially workshops, cookshops, taverns, and fruit booths. here, by night and day, many evil-minded people were always lounging; from the larger ones, hidden by curtains from the eyes of the passing throng, cymbals and drums clashed, in token that, within, syrian and egyptian girls were performing their voluptuous dances for a few copper coins. south of the circus was a large lake, fed with sea-water from the "stagnum," whose whole contents could be turned into the amphitheatre directly adjoining it. chapter xi the sultry heat of an african summer day still brooded over the whole grove, although the sun had long since sunk into the sea, and the brief twilight had passed into the darkness of night. but the full moon was already rising above the palm-trees, pouring her magical light over trees, bushes, meadows, and water; over the marble statues which gleamed fantastically out of the darkest, blackish-green masses of shrubbery; and over the buildings, which were principally of white or light-colored stone. in the more distant portions of the grove diana's soft silvery light ruled alone, and here deep, chaste silence reigned, interrupted only here and there by the note of some night bird. but near the gate, in the two great main buildings, and on the turf and in the gardens surrounding them, the noisy uproar of many thousands filled the air. all the instruments known at the time were playing discordantly, drowning one another. cries of pleasure, drunkenness, even rage and angry conflict, were heard in the roman, the greek, the moorish, and especially the vandal tongue; for perhaps the largest and certainly the noisiest "guests of the grove," as the companions in these pleasures called themselves, belonged to the race of conquerors, who here gave vent to all their longing and capacity for pleasure. two men, wearing the german costume, were walking down the broad street to the circus. the dress was conspicuous here, for nearly all the vandals, except the royal family, had either exchanged the german garb, nay, even the german weapons, for roman ones, or for convenience, effeminacy, love of finery, adopted one or another article of roman attire. these two men, however, had german cloaks, helmets, and weapons. "what frantic shouts! what pushing and crowding!" said the elder, a man of middle height, whose shrewd, keen eyes were closely scanning everything that was passing around him. "and it is not the romans who shout and roar most wildly and frenziedly, but our own dear cousins," replied the other. "was i not right, friend theudigesel? here, among the people themselves, we shall learn more, obtain better information, in a single night, than if we exchanged letters with this book-learned king for many months." "what we see here with our own eyes is almost incredible!" just at that moment loud cries reached their ears from the gate behind them. two negroes, naked except for an apron of peacock feathers about their loins, were swinging gold staves around their woolly heads, evidently trying to force a passage for a train behind them. "make way," they shouted constantly; "make way for the noble, modigesel." but they could not succeed in breaking through the crowd; their calls only attracted more curious spectators. so the eight moors behind, who were clad, or rather _un_clad, in the same way, were compelled to set down their swaying burden, a richly gilded, half open litter. its back was made of narrow purple cushions, framed and supported by ivory rods; white ostrich feathers and the red plumage of the flamingo nodded from the knobs of the ivory. "ho, my friend,"--the younger man addressed the occupant of the litter, a fair-haired vandal about twenty-seven years old in a gleaming silk robe, richly ornamented with gold and gems,--"are the nights here always so gay?" the noble was evidently surprised that any one should presume to accost him so unceremoniously. listlessly opening a pair of sleepy eyes, he turned to his companion; for beside him now appeared a young woman, marvellously beautiful, though almost too fully developed, in a splendid robe, but overloaded with ornament. her fair skin seemed to gleam with a dull yellow lustre; the expression of the perfect features, as regular as though carved by rule, yet rigid as those of the sphinx, had absolutely no trace of mind or soul, only somewhat indolent but not yet sated sensuousness: she resembled a marvellously beautiful but very dangerous animal. so her charms exerted a power that was bewildering, oppressive, rather than winning. the juno-like figure was not ornamented, but rather hung and laden, with gold chains, circlets, rings, and disks. "o-oh-a-ah! i say, astarte!" lisped her companion, in an affected whisper. he had heard from a græco-roman dandy in constantinople that it was fashionable to speak too low to be understood. "scarecrows, those two fellows, eh?" and, sighing over the exertion, he pushed up the thick chaplet of roses which had slipped down over his eyes. "like the description of genseric and his graybeards! just see--ah--one has a wolfskin for a cloak. the other is carrying--in the grove of venus--a huge spear!--you ought to show yourselves--over yonder--in the circus--for money, monsters!" the younger stranger drew his sword wrathfully. "if you knew to whom you were--" but the older man motioned him to keep silence. "you must have come a long distance, if you ask such questions," the vandal went on, evidently amused by the appearance of the foreigners. "it is the same always in this grove of the goddess of love. only possibly it may be a trifle gayer to-night. the richest nobleman in carthage celebrates his wedding. and he has invited the whole city." the beauty at his side raised herself a little. "why do you waste time in talking to these rustics? look, the lake is already shining with red light. the gondola procession is beginning. i want to see handsome thrasaric." and--at this name--the inanimate features brightened, the large, dark, impenetrable eyes darted an eager, searching glance into the distance, then the long lashes fell. she leaned her head back on the purple cushions; the black hair was piled up more than two hands high and clasped by five gold circlets united by light silver chains, yet the magnificent locks, thick as they were, were so stiff and coarse in texture that they resembled the hair of a horse's mane. "can't you content yourself for the present, astarte, with the less handsome modigisel?" shouted her companion, with a strength of voice that proved the affectation of his former lisping whisper. "you are growing too bold since your manumission." and he nudged her in the side with his elbow. it was probably meant for an expression of tenderness. but the carthaginian slightly curled her upper lip, revealing only her little white incisors. it was merely a light tremor, but it recalled the huge cats of her native land, especially when at the same time, like an angry tiger, she shut her eyes and threw back her splendid round head a little, as if silently vowing future vengeance. modigisel had not noticed it. "i will obey, divine mistress," he now lisped again in the most affected tone. "forward!" then as the poor blacks--he had adopted the fashionable tone so completely--really did not hear him at all, he now roared like a bear: "forward, you dogs, i tell you!" striking, with a strength no one would have expected from the rose-garlanded dandy, the nearest slave a blow on the back which felled him to the ground. the man rose again without a sound, and with the seven others grasped the heavily gilded poles; the litter soon vanished in the throng. "did you see _her_?" asked the wearer of the wolf-skin. "yes. she is like a black panther, or like this country: beautiful, passionate, treacherous, and deadly. come, theudigisel! let us go to the lake too. most of the vandals are gathering there. we shall have an opportunity to know them thoroughly. here is a shorter foot-path, leading across the turf." "stay! don't stumble, my lord! what is lying there directly across the way?" "a soldier--in full armor--a vandal!" "and sound asleep in the midst of all this uproar." "he must be very drunk." the older man pushed the prostrate figure with the handle of his spear. "who are you, fellow?" "i?--i?" the startled warrior propped himself on one elbow; he was evidently trying to think. "i believe i am--gunthamund, son of guntharic." "what are you doing here?" "you see. i am on guard. what are you laughing at? i am on guard to prevent any carousing in the grove. where are the others? have you no wine? i am horribly thirsty." and he sank back in the tall soft grass. "so these are the guards of the vandals! do you still counsel, my brave duke, as you advised,--beyond the sea?" the other, shaking his head, followed silently. both vanished in the throng of people who were now pressing from every direction toward the lake. chapter xii on the southern shore of this tree-girdled water, opposite to the little harbor, walled with marble, into which it ran at the northern end, were high board platforms hung with gay costly stuffs, erected for specially distinguished guests, who were numbered by hundreds; a balcony draped with purple silk, extending far out into the sea, was reserved for the most aristocratic spectators. now the soft moonlight resting on the mirrorlike surface of the lake was suddenly outshone by a broad red glare, which lasted for several minutes. as it died away, a blue, then a green light blazed up, brilliantly illuminating the groups of spectators on the shore, the white marble buildings in the distance, the statues among the shrubbery, and especially the surface of the lake itself and the magnificent spectacle it presented. from the harbor, behind whose walls it had hitherto remained concealed, glided a whole flotilla of boats, skiffs, vessels of every description: ten, twenty, forty vessels, fantastically shaped, sometimes as dolphins, sometimes as sharks, gigantic water birds, often as dragons, the "banner-beast" of the vandals. masts, yards, sails, the lofty pointed prow, as well as the broad stern, nay, even the upper part of the oar handles, were wreathed, garlanded, twined with flowers, gay, broad ribbons, even gold and silver fringes; magnificent rugs covered the whole deck, which had been finished with costly woodwork; some of them hung in the water at the stern and floated far, far behind the ships. on the deck of every vessel, at the mast or at the stern, picturesquely posed on several steps vandal men and youths. they were dressed in striking costumes, often copied from various nations, and beside them reclined young girls or beautiful boys. the fair or red locks of the vandals fell on the neck of many a brown-skinned maid, and mingled with many black tresses. music echoed from every ship; busy slaves--white, yellow moors, negroes--poured out unmixed wine from beautifully formed jars with handles. no matter how the vessels rocked, they bore the jars on their heads without spilling the contents, and apparently with no great exertion, often holding them with only one hand. so the dark fleet glided over the redly illumined lake. but suddenly the centre opened and out shot, apparently moving without oars,--the slaves were concealed under the deck,--the great wedding ship, far outshining all the others in fantastic, lavish splendor. it was drawn seemingly only by eight powerful swans, fastened in pairs with small gold chains attached to collars. these chains passed under the wings of each pair, uniting them to the next. the magnificent birds, which had been carefully trained for this purpose, heeded not the uproar and light around them, but moved in calm majesty straight toward the balcony at the southern end. on the deck, piled a foot high with crimson roses, an open arbor of natural vines had been arranged around the mast. in it lay the bridegroom, a giant nearly seven feet tall, his shining mane of red locks garlanded with vine leaves and--in violation of good taste--red roses. a panther-skin was around the upper portion of his body, a purple apron about his loins, a thyrsus staff in his huge but loosely hanging right hand. nestling to his broad, powerful breast reclined an extremely delicate, fragile girl, scarcely beyond childhood, almost too dainty of form. her face could not be seen; the roman bridal veil had been fastened on the deserted ariadne--very unsuitably. besides, the child seemed frightened by all the uproar, timidly hiding her face under the panther-skin and on the giant's breast; true, she often with a swift, upward glance tried to meet his eyes; but he did not see it. a nude boy about twelve years old, with golden wings on his shoulders, a bow and quiver fastened by a gold band across his back, was constantly filling an enormous goblet for the bridegroom, who seemed to think that his costume required him to drain it at once,--which diverted his attention more than was desirable from his bride. on a couch, somewhat above the bridal pair, a very beautiful girl about eighteen lay in a picturesque attitude. her noble head, with its golden hair simply arranged in a grecian knot, rested on the palm of her left hand. her hellenic outlines and hellenic statuesque repose rendered her infinitely more noble and aristocratic than the carthaginian astarte. two tame doves perched on her right shoulder; she wore a robe of white coan gauze, which fell below the knee, but seemed intended to adorn rather than to conceal her charms. the thin silken web was held around the hips by an exquisitely wrought golden girdle half a foot wide, from which hung a purple ph[oe]nician apron weighted with gold tassels; on her gold sandals were fastened "sea waves" made of stiff gray and white silk, which extended to the delicate ankles of the "foam-born," and at the right and left of each one, the gleam of two large pearls was visible at a great distance. as the ship, drawn by the swans, now came into full view of all the many thousands, the dazzling sight was greeted with deafening shouts. as soon as the vessel emerged from the dim light into the radiant glare, the aphrodite hastily, desperately, tried to conceal herself; finding a large piece of coarse sail-cloth lying near, she wrapped it around her figure. "how barbaric the whole thing is!" whispered, but very cautiously, one roman to another in the harsh throat tones of the african vulgar latin, as they stood together under the staging on the opposite side of the harbor. "i suppose that is intended to represent bacchus, neighbor laurus?" "and ariadne." "i like the aphrodite." "yes, i believe you, friend victor. it is the beautiful ionian, glauke. she was stolen from miletus a short time ago by pirates. she is said to be the child of prosperous parents. she was sold in the harbor forum to thrasabad, the bridegroom's brother. they say she cost as much as two country estates!" "she is gazing very mournfully, under her drooping lashes, into the lake." "yet her buyer and master is said to treat her with the utmost consideration, and fairly worships her." "i can easily believe it. she is wonderfully beautiful,--solemnly beautiful, i might say." "but imagine this bear from thule, this buffalo from the land of scythia, a dionysus!" "with those elephant bones!" "with that fiery-red beard, two spans wide!" "he probably wouldn't have that and the shaggy fleece on his head cut off, if thereby he could become a god in reality." "yes, a vandal noble! they think themselves greater than gods or saints." "yet they were only cattle-thieves and land and sea robbers." "just look, he has buckled his broad german sword-belt over the vine drapery about his loins." "perhaps for the sake of propriety," cried the other, laughing; "and actually, dionysus is wearing a vandal short-sword." "the barbarian seems to be ashamed of being a naked god." "then he has not yet lost _all_ shame!" exclaimed a man who had also understood the cautious whisper, striding rapidly on. "come, theudigisel!" "did you understand that? it was the man with the spear. it did not sound like the vandal tongue." "yes, exactly like it. that's the way they speak in spain! i heard it in hispalis." "hark, what a roaring on the ships!" "that must be a hymenæus, victor! the bridegroom's brother composed it. the barbarians now write latin and greek verses. but they are of their stamp." "yes, listen, lauras," cried the other, laughing; "you are prejudiced, as a rival! since you failed in your leather business, you have lived by writing, o friend! weddings, baptisms, funerals, it was all the same to you. you have even sung the praises of the vandal victories over the moors, and--the lord have mercy on us!--'the brave sword of king hilderic.' yes, you wrote for the barbarians even more willingly and frequently than for us romans." "of course. the barbarians know less, require less, and pay better. for the same reason, friend victor, you too must wish, for the sake of your wine-shop, that the vandals may remain rulers of carthage." "how so?" "why, the barbarians know as little about good wine as they do about good verses." "only half hit. they probably have a tolerably fair judgment of it. but they are always so thirsty that they will enjoy and pay for sour wine too--like your sour verses. woe betide us when we no longer have the stupid barbarians for customers! we should be obliged, in our old age, to furnish better wine and better poetry." "the ships will soon be here! we can see everything distinctly now. look at the bridegroom's enormous goblet; the little cupid can scarcely hold it; it seems familiar to me." "why, of course. that's surely the immense shell from the fountain of neptune in the forum,--larger than a child's head!" "yes, it has been missing for several days. oh, the germans would drain the ocean if it were full of wine." "and just see the hundred weight of gold which they have hung on poor aphrodite." "all stolen, plundered roman property. she can hardly move under the weight of her jewels." "modesty, victor, modesty! she has not much clothing except her jewels." "it's not the poor girl's fault apparently. that insolent cupid just snatched off the sailcloth and flung it into the sea. see how confused she is, how she tries to find some drapery. she is beseeching the bride, pointing to the large white silk coverlet at her feet." "little ariadne is nodding; she has picked it up; now she is throwing it over aphrodite's shoulders. how grateful she looks!" "they are landing. i pity the poor bride. disgrace and shame! she is the child of a freeborn roman citizen, though of greek origin. and the father--" "where is eugenes? i do not see him on the bridal ship." "he is probably ashamed to show himself at the sacrifice of his child. he went to utica with his sicilian guest on business long before the marriage, and after his return he will go with the syracusan to sicily. it is really like the ancient sacrifice of the maidens which the athenians were obliged to offer to the minotaur. he gives up eugenia, the daintiest jewel of carthage." "but they say she wanted to marry him; she loved the red giant. and he is not ugly; he is really handsome." "he is a barbarian. curses on the bar--oh, pardon me, my most gracious lord! may saint cyprian grant you a long life!" he had hastily thrown himself on his knees before a half-drunken vandal, who had nearly fallen over him, and without heeding the roman's existence had already forced his way far to the front. "why, laurus! the barbarian surely ran against you, not you against him?" said victor, helping his countryman to his feet again. "no matter! our masters are quick to lay their hands on the short-sword! may orcus swallow the whole brood!" chapter xiii meanwhile the ships had reached the shore: they were moored in a broad front, side by side, greeted with a loud burst of music from pipes and drums in the balcony. instantly all flung from their lofty prows step-ladders, covered with rich rugs. slaves scattered flowers over the stairs, down which the bridal pair and their guests now descended to the land, while, at the same moment, by similar steps the spectators descended from the platforms. the two groups now formed in a festal procession upon the shore, a handsome though somewhat effeminate-looking young vandal, with a winged hat on his fair locks and winged shoes on his feet, hurried constantly to and fro, waving an ivory staff twined with golden serpents. he seemed to be the manager of the entertainment. "who is that?" asked victor. "probably the master of the beautiful aphrodite. he is nodding; and she smiles at him." "yes, that is thrasabad," cried laurus, angrily, clinching his fist, yet lowering his voice timidly. "may saint cyprian send scorpions into his bed! a vandal writer! he is spoiling my trade. and i am the pupil of the great luxorius." "pupil? i think you were--" "his slave, then freedman. i have covered whole ass's skins with copies of his verses." "but not as his pupil?" "you don't understand. the whole art of composition consists of a dozen little tricks, which are best learned by copying, because they are constantly recurring. and this barbarian composes gratis! of course he must be glad to have any one listen to him." "he is leading the procession--as mercury." "oh, the character just suits him. he understands how to steal. only in doing so they kill the owners. 'feud' is what these noble germans call it." "look! he has given the signal; they are going to the circus. up! let us follow." mercury held out his hand to aphrodite to help her to land. "do i have you again?" he whispered tenderly. "i have missed you two long hours, fair one. dearest, i love you fervently." the girl smiled charmingly, raising her beautiful eyes to his with a grateful, even tender expression. "that is the only reason i still live," she murmured, instantly lowering her long lashes sorrowfully. "but so completely muffled, my aphrodite?" "i am not your aphrodite; i am your glauke." hand in hand with her, thrasabad now led the procession, which, not without occasional pauses, forced its way through the staring multitude. as soon as the circus was reached, numerous slaves showed the guests to seats, assigned according to their rank or the regard in which they were held by the giver of the entertainment. the best were in the front row, originally intended for the senators of carthage; the structure on the southern side, the pulvinar, the imperial box which had been occupied by many a predecessor of gelimer, remained empty. on the northern side, not directly opposite to the pulvinar, but considerably nearer the eastern end, the "porta pompæ," there were projecting boxes for the bridegroom, his most intimate friends, and his most distinguished guests. through this gate, in the midst of the stalls and sheds for the horses and chariots,--the "oppidum" and the "carceres,"--the circensian procession passed before the beginning of the races. from this gate the course ran westward in a semi-circle. the victors made their exit through the "porta triumphalis." extending the entire length from east to west, the "spina," a low wall richly adorned with small columns, dark-green marble obelisks, and numerous statuettes of victors in former races, divided the course into two parts like a barrier. at the eastern and western ends a goal "meta" was erected, the former called the "meta prima," the latter the "meta secunda." the chariots drove into the arena from the southern and northern ends of the stables, through two gates in the east. lastly, on the southern side, midway between the stables and the imperial box, partly concealed from view, was the sorrowful gate, the "porta libitinensis," through which the killed and wounded charioteers were borne out. the length of the course was about one hundred and ninety paces, the width one hundred and forty. after the bustle had subsided, and the guests were all in their seats. mercury appeared in the principal box, which contained about twelve men and women, among them modigisel and his beautiful companion. he bowed gracefully before the bridal pair, and began,-- "allow me, divine brother, son of semele--" "listen, my little man," interrupted the bridegroom. (mercury measured a few inches less than bacchus, but was considerably over six feet tall.) "i believe you have had too much wine, and especially the dark red, which i drank from the 'ocean'; in short, you share my intoxication. our brave father's name was thrasamer, not semele." the poetic vandal, with a superior smile, exchanged glances with aphrodite, who was also in the box, and continued,-- "allow me, before the games begin, to read my epithalamium--" "no, no, brother," interrupted the giant, hastily. "better, far better not! the verses are--" "perhaps not smooth enough? what do you know about hiatus, and--" "nothing at all! but the sense--so far as i understood it--you were good enough to read it aloud to me three times--" "five times to me," said aphrodite, softly, with a charming smile. "i entreated him to burn the verses. they are neither beautiful nor good. so what is their use?" "the meaning is so exaggerated," thrasaric went on; "well, we may say shameless." "they follow the best roman models," said the poet, resentfully. "very probably. perhaps that is the reason i was ashamed when i listened to them alone; i should not like, in the presence of these ladies--" a shrill laugh reached his ears. "you are laughing, astarte?" "yes, handsome thrasaric, i am laughing! you germans are incorrigible shamefaced boys, with the limbs of giants." the bride raised her eyes beseechingly to him. he did not see it. "shamefaced? i have seemed to myself very shameless. my part as a half-nude god is most distasteful to me. i shall be glad, eugenia, when all this uproar is over." she pressed his hand gratefully, whispering, "and to-morrow you will go with me to hilda, won't you? she wished to congratulate me on the first day of my happiness." "certainly! and _her_ congratulations will bring you happiness. she is the most glorious of women. she, her marriage with gibamund, first taught me to believe once more in women, love, and the happiness of wedded life. it was she who--what do you want, little man? oh, the games! the guests! i was forgetting everything. go on! give the signal! they must begin below." mercury stepped forward to the white marble railing of the box and waved his serpent wand twice in the air. the two gates at the right and left of the stables swung open: from the former a man, clad in blue, carrying a tuba, entered the arena; from the latter one dressed entirely in green; and two loud blasts announced the entrance of the circensian procession. in the brief pause before the appearance of the chariots modigisel plucked the bridegroom lightly by his panther-skin. "listen," he whispered, "my astarte is fairly devouring you with her eyes. i believe she likes you far better than she does me. i suppose i ought to kill her, out of jealousy. but--ugh!--it's too hot for either jealousy or beating." "i believe she is no longer your slave," replied thrasaric. "i freed her, but retained the obligation of obedience, the obsequium. pshaw! i would kill her for that very reason, if it weren't so hot. but how would it do if we--i am tired of her, and i've taken a fancy to your slender little eugenia, perhaps on account of the contrast--how would it do if we should--exchange?" thrasaric had no time to answer. the tuba blared again, and the chariots entered in a stately procession. five of the blues rolled slowly in from the right gate, five of the greens from the left; the chariots themselves, the reins and trappings of the horses, and the tunics of the charioteers were respectively leek-green and light-blue. the first three chariots of each party were drawn by four horses, the usual number; but when the fourth appeared with five, and the last on both sides actually had seven steeds, loud shouts of surprise and approval rang from the upper seats, to which, though many better ones stood empty, the vandal directors had sent the middle and lower classes of the roman citizens. "just look, victor," laurus whispered to his neighbor. "those are the colors of the two parties in constantinople." "certainly. the barbarians imitate everything." "but like apes playing the flute!" "no one should attend the circus except in a toga." "as we do," said victor, complacently. "but these people!--some in coats of mail, the majority in garments as thin as spider-webs." "of course they will never be true residents of the south; only degenerate northern barbarians." "but just look: the magnificence, the lavishness. the wheels, the very fellies, are silvered and then twined with blue or green ribbons." "and the bodies of the chariots! they glisten like sapphires and emeralds." "where did thrasaric get all this treasure?" "stolen, friend, stolen from us all. i've often told you so. but not he himself; this generation has grown almost too lazy even for stealing and robbing. it was his father thrasamer and especially his grandfather, thrasafred. he was genseric's right hand. and what that means in pillaging as well as fighting cannot be imagined." "magnificent horses, the five reddish-brown ones! they are not african." "yes, but of the spanish stock, reared in cyrene. they are the best." "yes, if there is a strain of moorish blood. you know, like the moorish chief cabaon's famous stallion. a vandal is said to have him now." "impossible! no moor sells such a horse." "the procession is over; they are moving side by side, to the white rope. now!" "no, not yet. see, each green and blue is approaching the hermulæ on the right and left, to which the rope is fastened. hark! what is mercury shouting?" "the prizes for the victors. just listen: fifteen thousand sestertii, the second prize for the team of four; twenty-five thousand the first; forty thousand for the victorious five-span; and sixty thousand--that's unprecedented--for the seven." "look, how the seven horses harnessed to the green chariot are pawing the sand! that is hercules, the charioteer. he has five medals already." "but see! his opponent is the moor chalches. he wears seven medals. look, he is throwing down his whip; he is challenging hercules to drive without one, too. but he will not dare." "yes; he is tossing the whip on the sand. i'll bet on hercules! i side with the greens!" shouted victor, excitedly. "and i with the blues. it ought--but stop! we--roman citizens--betting on the games of our tyrants?" "oh, nonsense! you have no courage! or no money!" "more than you--of both! how much? ten sestertii?" "twelve!" "for aught i care. done!" "look, the rope has fallen!" "now they are rushing forward!" "bravo, green, at the first meta already--and nearest--past." "on, chalches! there, blue! forward! hi! at the second meta chalches was nearest." "faster, hercules! faster, you lazy snail! keep more to the right--the right! or--o, heaven!" "yes, saint cyprian! triumph! there lies the proud green! flat on his belly, like a crushed frog! triumph! the blue is at the goal. pay up, friend! where is my money?" "that isn't fair. i won't pay. the blue intentionally struck the horse on the left with his pole. that's cheating!" "what? do you insult my color? and won't pay either?" "not a pebble." "indeed? well, you rascal, i'll pay _you_." a blow fell; it sounded like a slap on a fat cheek. "keep quiet up there, you dwellers in the clouds," shouted mercury. "it is nothing, fair bride, except two roman citizens cuffing each other. friend wandalar, go; turn them out. both! there! now on with the games. carry the green out through the libitinensis. is he dead? yes. go on. the prizes will be awarded at the end. we are in a hurry. if the king should return from hippo before the time he named--woe betide us!" chapter xiv "pshaw!" said modigisel's neighbor, a bold-looking, elderly nobleman with a haughty, aristocratic bearing. "we need not fear. we gundings are of scarcely less ancient nobility. i do not bow my head to the asdings. least of all before this dissembler." "you are right, gundomar!" assented a younger man. "let us defy the tyrant." the giant thrasaric turned his head and said very slowly but very impressively: "listen, gundomar and gundobad; you are my guests but speak ill of gelimer, and you will fare like those two romans. so much wine has gone to my head; but nothing shall be said against gelimer. i will not allow it. he, so full of kindness, a tyrant! what does that mean?" "it means a usurper." "how can you say that? he is the oldest asding." "after king hilderic! and was he justly imprisoned and deposed?" asked gundomar, doubtfully. "was not the whole affair a clever invention?" added gundobad. "not by gelimer! you do not mean to say that?" cried thrasaric, threateningly. "no! but perhaps by verus." "yes; all sorts of rumors are afloat. there is said to have been a letter of warning." "no matter. if your saintly devotee should discover this festival--" "then woe betide us! he would deal with you as--" "he did at the time you wanted to wed your little bride without the aid of the priest," cried modigisel, laughing. "i shall be grateful to him all my life for having struck me down then! eugenias are not to be stolen; we must woo them gently." nodding to the young girl, he covered her little head and veil with his huge right hand and pressed it tenderly to his broad breast; a radiant glance from the large dark antelope eyes thanked him. but modigisel had also discovered the charm which such an expression bestowed upon the innocent, childlike features; his gaze rested admiringly upon eugenia. the latter raised herself and whispered in her lover's ear. "gladly, my violet, my little bird," replied thrasaric. "if you have promised, you must keep your word. go with her to the entrance, brother. to keep one's promise is more necessary than to breathe." the bride, attended by a group of her friends, was led by thrasabad through one of the numerous cross passages out of the circus. "where is she going?" asked modigisel, following her with ardent eyes. "to the catholic chapel close by, which they have made in the little temple of vesta. she promised her father to pray there before midnight; she was forced to resign the blessing of her church at her marriage with a heretic." the bride's graceful figure now vanished through the vaulted doorway. modigisel began again: "let me have your little maid, and take my big sweetheart; you will make almost a hundred pounds by the bargain. true, in this climate, one ought to choose a slender sweetheart. is she a free roman? then i, too, will _marry_ her. i won't stop for that." "keep your plump happiness, and leave me my slender one. i have by no means drunk enough from the ocean to make that exchange." suddenly astarte said loudly, "she's nothing but skin and bones!" both men started; had she understood their low whispers? again the full lips curled slightly, revealing her sharp eye-teeth. "and eyes! those eyes!" replied modigisel. "yes, bigger than her whole face. she looks like a chicken just out of the shell!" sneered astarte. "what is there so remarkable about her?" the beauty's round eyes glittered with a sinister light. "a soul, carthaginian," replied the bridegroom. "women have no souls," retorted astarte, gazing calmly at him. "so one of the fathers of the church taught--or a philosopher. some, instead of the soul, have water, like that pygmy. others have fire." she paused, her breath coming quickly and heavily. astarte was indeed beautiful at that moment, diabolically, bewitchingly beautiful; the exquisitely moulded, sphinxlike countenance was glowing with life. "fire," replied thrasaric, averting his eyes from her ardent gaze,--"fire belongs to hell." astarte made no answer. "eugenia is so beautiful because she is so chaste and pure," sighed glauke, who had heard a part of the conversation. gazing sorrowfully after the bride, she lowered her long lashes. "no wonder that you hold her so firmly," modigisel now said aloud in a jeering tone. "after your attempt to abduct her failed, you besought the old grain-usurer to give you the dainty doll as honorably as any roman fuller or baker ever wooed the daughter of his neighbor, the cobbler." "yes," assented gundomar; "but he has celebrated the wedding with as much splendor as though he were wedding the daughter of an emperor." "the splendor of the wedding is more to him than the bride," cried gundobad, laughing. "certainly not," said thrasaric, slowly. "but one thing is true: since i have known that she is--that she will be mine--the frantic longing for her--yet no--that is not true either, i love her fondly. i suppose it is the wine! the heat! and so much wine!" "nothing but wine can help wine," laughed modigisel. "here, slaves, bring bacchus a second oceanus." thrasaric instantly took a deep draught from the goblet. "well?" whispered modigisel. "i will give you for make-weight to astarte my whole fishpond full of muraense, besides the royal villa at grasse, for--" "i am no glutton," replied thrasaric, indignantly. "i will add my villa in decimum; true, i bequeathed it to astarte; but she will consent. won't you?" astarte nodded silently. her nostrils were quivering. thrasaric shook his shaggy head. "i have more villas than i can occupy. hark, the blast of a tuba. the races ought to begin. here, little brother! he has gone. horses, wine, and dice are the three greatest pleasures. i would give the salvation of my soul for the best horse in the world. but--" he took another draught, of wine--"the best horse! it has escaped me. through my own folly! i would give ten eugenias in exchange." astarte laid an ice-cold finger on modigisel's bare arm; he looked up; she whispered something, and he nodded in pleased astonishment. "the best horse? what is its name? and how did it escape you?" "it is called--the moorish name cannot be pronounced; it is all _ch_! we called it styx. it is a three-year-old black stallion of spanish breed, with a moorish strain, reared in cyrene. a short time ago, when the valiant king so eagerly began his preparations for war, the moors were informed that we nobles needed fine horses. among many others, sersaon, the grandson of the old chief cabaon, came to carthage; he brought of all the good horses the very best." "yes! we know them!" the vandals assented. "but among the very best the pearl was styx, the black stallion! i cannot describe him, or i should weep for rage that he escaped me. the moor who rode him, scarcely more than a boy, said that he was not for sale. as i eagerly urged him, he asked, grinning in mockery, an impossible price, which no one in his sober senses would pay,--an unreasonable number of pounds of gold; i have forgotten how many. i laughed in his face. then i looked again at the magnificent animal, and ordered the slave to bring the money. i placed the leather bag at once in the moor's hand; it was in the open courtyard of my house on the forum of constantine. many other horses were standing there, and several of our mounted lancers were in the saddle, inspecting them as they were led up. then, after i had closed the bargain, i said to my brother with a sigh: 'it's a pity to pay so much money. the animal is hardly worth it.' 'it is worth more, and you shall see!' cried the insolent moor, as he leaped on the horse and dashed out of the gate of the courtyard. but he still held the purse in his hand." "that was too much!" said modigisel. "the insolence enraged us all. we followed at once,--at least twenty men,--our best horses and riders, some on the splendid moorish steeds we had just purchased. at the corner of the street he was so near that thrasabad hurled his spear at him, but in vain! though at our cries people flocked from all the cross streets to stop him in the main one, there was no checking him. the guards at the southern gate heard the uproar; they sprang to close the doors, were in the act of shutting them, but the superb creature darted through like an arrow. we pursued for half an hour; by that time he had gained so much on us that we could just see him in the distance like an ostrich disappearing in the sands of the desert. "enraged, loudly berating the faithless moor, we rode slowly home on our exhausted steeds. when we reached the house, there in my courtyard stood the moor, leaning against the black horse; he had ridden in again at the western gate. throwing the gold at my feet, he said: 'now do you know the value of this noble animal? keep your gold! i will not sell him.' he rode slowly and proudly away. so i lost styx, the best horse in the world. ha, is this a delusion? or is it the heavy wine? down below--in the arena--beside the other racers--" "stands styx," said astarte, quietly. "to whom does the treasure belong?" shrieked thrasaric, frantically. "to me," replied modigisel. "did you buy him?" "no. in the last foray the animal was captured with some camels and several other horses." "but not by you?" roared thrasaric. "you were at home as usual, in astarte's broad shadow." "but i sent thirty mercenaries in my place; they captured the animal, tied in the moorish camp; and what the mercenary captures--" "is his employer's property," said thrasabad, who had entered the box again. "so--this wonder--belongs to--you?" exclaimed thrasaric, wild with envy. "yes, and to you as soon as you wish." thrasaric emptied a huge goblet of wine. "no, no," he said; "at least not so--not by my will. she is a free woman, no slave, whom i could give away, even if i should ever desire it." "only resign your right to her. it will be easy--for money--to find a reason for annulling the marriage." "she is a catholic, he an arian," whispered astarte. "of course! that will do! and then merely let me--gelimer cannot always strike down her abductor." "no! silence! not so! but--we might throw dice! then the dice, chance, would have decided--not i! oh, i can, i can--think no longer! if i throw higher, each shall keep what he has; if i throw lower, i will--no, no! i will not! let me sleep!" and overcome by the wine, in spite of the uproar around him, he dropped his huge rose-garlanded head on both arms, which lay folded on the marble front of the box. modigisel and astarte exchanged significant glances. "what do you expect to gain by it?" asked modigisel. "he won't exchange for you; only for the horse." "but she--that nun-faced girl--shall not have him! and my time will come later!" "if i release you from my patronage." "you will." "i don't know yet." "oh, yes, you will," she answered coaxingly. but even as she spoke, she again threw back her head and closed her eyes. * * * * * after a brief slumber the bridegroom was shaken rudely by his brother. "up!" cried the latter; "eugenia has come back. let her take her place--" "eugenia! i did not throw dice for her. i don't want the horse. i made no promise." he started in terror; for eugenia was standing before him with the ionian; her large dark-brown eyes, whose whites had a bluish cast, were gazing searchingly, anxiously, distrustfully, into the very depths of his soul. but she said nothing; only her face was paler than usual. how much had she heard--understood? he asked himself. thrasabad's slave humbly made way for her. "i thank you. aphrodite." "oh, do not call me by that name of mockery and disgrace! call me as my dear parents did at home before i was stolen,--became booty, a chattel." "i thank you, glauke." "the races cannot take place," lamented thrasabad, to whom a freedman had just brought a message. "why not?" "because no one will bet against the stallion which modigisel entered last of all. it is styx; you know him." "yes, i know him! i made no promise, did i, modigisel?" he asked in a low, hurried tone. "yes, certainly! to throw the dice. recollect yourself!" "impossible!" "you said: 'if i throw higher, each shall keep what he has; if i throw lower--'" "oh, god! yes! it's nothing, little one! don't heed me." he turned again to modigisel, whispering, "give me back my promise!" "never!" "you can break it," sneered astarte. "serpent!" he cried, raising his clinched fist, but he controlled himself; then, helpless as a bear entangled in a net, the giant turned beseechingly to modigisel: "spare me!" but the latter shook his head. "i will withdraw the stallion from the races," he said aloud to thrasabad. "i am satisfied with the fact that no one dares to run against him." "then the race can take place, but at the end of the entertainment. first, there are two surprises which i have prepared for you in another place. come, glauke, your hand; up, rise! follow me, all you guests of thrasaric, follow me to the amphitheatre." chapter xv heralds, with blasts of the tuba, announced the invitation throughout the whole spacious building, and, thanks to the admirable arrangements and the great number of exits, the arena was very quickly emptied. the thousands of spectators, amid the music of flute-players, now moved in a stately procession to the neighboring amphitheatre. this was an oval building, the axis of its inner ellipse measuring two hundred and forty feet. the plan resembled that of the circus, an outer wall in two stories of arches, each story adorned with statues and pillars. here, too, from the oval arena, the rows of seats ascended in steps divided by vertical walls, separated into triangles by the stairs leading to the exits, or vomitories. the host and his most distinguished guests were assigned places in the raised gallery on the podium directly adjoining the arena, formerly occupied by the senators of carthage. the amphitheatre had a subterranean connection with the adjacent lake. from the grated cellars, concealed by curtains, the mingled cries of various animals greeted the entering spectators. often the snarls and yells partially died away, and a mighty, ominous howl, or rather roar, rose from the farthest cellar, dominating the voices of the smaller beasts, which sank into silence, as if from fear. "are you afraid, my little bird?" asked thrasaric, who was leading his bride by the hand. "you are trembling." "not of the tiger," she answered. when the seats of honor were occupied, thrasabad again appeared before them, and, bowing, said: "the roman emperors long ago prohibited contests between gladiators and fights between animals. but we are not romans. true, our own kings--especially our present sovereign, king gelimer--repeated the command--" "if he should hear of this!" interrupted thrasaric, in a tone of warning. "pshaw! he is not expected here until tomorrow morning. even if he returns sooner--he is now staying in the capitol; it is two full leagues distant. the noise of the festival will not reach there for a long time; and we shall not tell him to-morrow." "and the gladiators?" "nor they either. dead men do not gossip. we will keep them fighting until none are left to betray us." "brother, that is almost too--roman!" "ah, only the romans knew how to live; our bear-like ancestors, at the utmost, only how to die. do you suppose i have studied merely the _verses_ of the romans? no, i boast of vying with them in their customs. speak, gundomar; shall we fear king gelimer?" "we vandal nobles will allow ourselves to be denied nothing that gives us pleasure. let him try to keep us away from here!" "and at my brother's wedding an exception is permitted, nay, required. so i will feast your eyes with old roman 'hunts' and old roman gladiatorial combats." roars of applause greeted this announcement. thrasabad disappeared to give his orders. "it is easy to say where he obtained the animals," remarked gundomar. "africa is their breeding-ground. but the gladiators?" "he told me the secret," replied modigisel. "some are slaves; some are moors captured in the last expedition. the white sand of the arena will soon be stained crimson." "how i shall rejoice!" panted astarte, who rarely spoke. modigisel looked at her with an expression almost of horror. "gladiators!" cried thrasaric, wrathfully. "eugenia, do you want to go away?" "i will shut my eyes--and stay. only let me remain with you! do not send me from you--i beseech!" the roll of drums was heard, and a cry of astonishment from thousands of voices filled the amphitheatre. the arena suddenly divided, moving to the right and left, in two semi-circles which, drawn sideways, disappeared in the walls. twenty feet below, a second space, covered with sand, appeared, and over this poured from every direction, foaming and dashing, a flood of seething water. the bottom was swiftly transformed into a lake. then two wide gateways at the right and left opened, and toward each other swept, fully manned and equipped for battle, two stately war-ships with lofty masts. these vessels, it is true, carried no sails, for there was no wind in the walled enclosure, but they were supplied with archers and slingers. "aha! a naumachia! a naval battle! capital! glorious!" shouted the spectators. "look, a byzantine trireme!" "and a vandal corsair ship! how the scarlet flag glows!" "and above it, at the mast-head, the golden dragon." "the vandal is attacking! where are the rowers?" "out of sight. they are working under the deck. but above--look, in front, on the prow, stand the crew with spears and axes uplifted!" "see, the byzantine is going to ram. he is dashing forward with tremendous force." "look at the sharp spur close to the water line!" "but the vandal is turning swiftly. the ship has escaped the shock. now the spears are flying." "there! a roman falls on the deck. he doesn't stir." "a second is flung overboard. he is still swimming--" "he is throwing his arms out of the water--" "there he sinks." "the water around him is stained with blood," said astarte, bending eagerly forward. "let me go! oh, let me go, and come with me!" pleaded eugenia. "child, not now; you must stay now. i must see this," replied thrasaric. "now the vandal is alongside of the byzantine." "they are leaping across--our men. how their fair locks fly! victory, victory to the vandals!" "why, thrasaric! they are only slaves in disguise." "no matter! they bear our flag. victory, victory to the vandals! but look, there is a terrible hand-to-hand conflict--man to man! how the shields crash! how the axes glitter! alas! the vandal leader is falling! oh, if i were only on that accursed roman ship!" "there! another vandal falls! more romans are coming up from the lower deck. alas! that is treachery!" "the romans have the superior force. two more vandals have fallen." "they lured our men on board by stratagem." "brother! thrasabad! where are you?" "on a boat over yonder, beside the two ships," cried glauke, full of terror. "it is no use! the vandals are overpowered; they are leaping into the water!" "the others on the roman ship are bound." "the romans are throwing fire into our ship. it is burning!" "the mast is blazing brightly." "the helmsman and rowers are jumping overboard." "where is thrasabad?" mercury again appeared in the podium. "look you, brother, that is a bad omen," said thrasaric. thrasabad shrugged his shoulders. "the fortune of war. i did not allow myself to interfere. no agreement was made about the result. five romans and twelve vandals are dead. away, away with the whole! vanish, sea!" he waved the hermes staff; the water sank rushing into the depths, with the corpses it had swallowed. the roman ship, amply manned and obeying her helm, succeeded, by rowing powerfully to the right, in passing through the gate by which it had entered. the empty, burning, unguided vandal vessel was drawn into the seething, whirling funnel; it turned more and more swiftly on its own axis; the water dashed over the deck, extinguishing the flames as far as it reached them; the mast leaned farther and farther to the right, still blazing brightly. suddenly it fell completely over on the right side and disappeared in the abyss. gurgling, whirling, and foaming, the rest of the water followed. "the sea has vanished!" cried thrasabad. "let the desert and its monsters, warring with each other, appear in its place!" and at the height of the former flooring, far above the level of the sea, the two halves of the arena, covered with white sand, were again pushed together from the right and left. slaves, clad only with aprons--fair-skinned ones, yellow-complexioned moors, and negroes--appeared in countless numbers and drew back the curtains which covered the gratings of the cages containing the wild animals. "we will present to you--" thrasabad cried amid the breathless silence. but his voice died away; the terrible roar, which had either ceased or been drowned during the tumult of the naval battle, again echoed through the amphitheatre, and a huge tiger leaped with such force and fury from the back of its tolerably long cage against the grating in front that its bars bent outward, splinters of the wood in which they were imbedded were hurled into the arena. "brother," said thrasaric, in a low tone, "that cage is too long. take care! the animal has too much space to run. and the wooden floor is rotten. are you afraid, eugenia?" "i am with _you_," the young bride answered quietly. "but i want to know no more about men fighting--dying. i did not look at them." "only at the end, little sister-in-law, a captive moor." "where did you get him?" asked modigisel. "hired, like most of the others, from a slave-dealer. but this one is sentenced to death." "why?" "he strangled his master, who was going to have him flogged. he is a handsome, slender fellow, but very obstinate; he will name neither his tribe nor his father. the brother and heir of the murdered man offered him to me cheap for the naumachia, and if he survived--for the tiger. he could not be induced, no matter how many blows he received, to fight in the naval battle. his master was obliged to bind him hand and foot behind the scenes. well, he will probably be compelled to fight when he stands fully armed in the arena, and we let loose the tiger; it has been kept fasting for two days." "oh, thrasaric, my husband! my first entreaty--" "i cannot help you, little bird! i promised to let him rule without interference to-day; and one's word must be kept, even though it should lead to folly and crime." "yes," whispered modigisel, bending forward. "one's word must be kept. when shall we throw the dice?" thrasaric sprang up in fury. "i will kill you--" "that will be useless. astarte knows it. keep your word! i advise you to do it. or to-morrow all the vandal nobles shall know what your honor and faith are worth." "never! i will sooner kill the child with my own hands." "that would be as dishonorable as if i should slay the horse from envy. keep your word, thrasaric; you can do nothing else." then a glance from eugenia rested on modigisel. she could not have understood anything; but he was silent. "but when you have her," astarte murmured under her breath to her companion, "you will set me wholly free?" "i don't know yet," he growled. "it doesn't look as if i should win her." "set me free!" astarte repeated earnestly. it was meant for an entreaty, but the tone conveyed so sinister a threat that the nobleman gazed wonderingly into her black eyes, in whose depths lurked an expression which made him afraid to say no. he evaded an answer by asking rudely: "what is there in the giant that attracts you as a magnet draws iron?" "strength," said astarte, impressively. "he could wrap you around his left arm with his right hand." "_i_ was strong enough, too," replied the vandal, gloomily. "africa and astarte would suck the marrow out of a hercules." the whispering was interrupted by thrasabad, who now, the tiger being silent, addressed the audience: "we will have brought out to fight before you six african bears from the atlas, with six buffaloes from the mountain valley of aurasia! a hippopotamus from the nile, and a rhinoceros; an elephant and three leopards, a powerful tiger--do you hear him? silence, hasdrubal, till you are summoned--with a man in full armour, who has been condemned to death." "aha! good! that will be splendid!" ran through the amphitheatre. "and lastly,--as i hope hasdrubal will be the victor,--the tiger will fight all the survivors of the other conflicts, and a pack of twelve british dogs." loud shouts of delight rang through the building. "i thank you!" replied the director of the festival. "but we cannot live by gratitude alone. your mercury also desires nectar and ambrosia. before we witness any more battles, let us enjoy a light luncheon, some cool wine, and a graceful dance. what say you, my friends? come, fair glauke!" without waiting for an answer--he seemed to be tolerably sure of it, and it came in the form of still more vehement applause--he again waved his staff. the heavy stone walls, separating the podium and the higher rows of seats from the arena and the lower rows, sank and were transformed into sloping stone steps that led down to the arena, into which at the same time invisible hands lifted long tables, hung with costly draperies and set with magnificent jugs, vessels, and goblets of gold and silver, and large shallow dishes filled with choice fruit and sweet cakes. in the centre of the arena rose an altar, its three steps thickly garlanded with wreaths of flowers, the top crowned by a figure closely wrapped in white cloths. from the sides of the building a hundred satyrs and bacchantes flocked in, who instantly began a pantomimic dance of pursuit and flight, whose rhythm was accompanied by the noisy, stirring music of cymbals and tympans from the open, wing-like sides of the amphitheatre. enraged by the uproar, more and more furiously roared the hyrcanian tiger. chapter xvi many of the guests--all who had been seated in the podium--descended to the arena, helped themselves from the dishes, and ate the fruit and cakes. gayly dressed slaves carried the refreshments to others, who had remained in the rows of seats. as soon as the barriers between the arena and the spectators were removed, the guests passed freely to and fro, sometimes down to the arena, sometimes back to their places; nay, they even mingled in the dance of the satyrs and bacchantes. many of the latter were suddenly embraced by the vandals, who swung with them in the frantic whirl. the confusion grew more chaotic. cheeks glowed with a deeper crimson, fair and dark locks fluttered more wildly, and the musicians were constantly obliged to play faster to keep pace with the increasing excitement of the dancers. thrasabad now poured the wine most freely, for he was exhausted by his exertions, and his vanity was stirred by the applause bestowed upon his arrangements for the festival. reclining on a soft panther-skin, in front of a low drinking-table, he drained one goblet after another. glauke, whom he clasped with one arm, gazed anxiously at him, but dared not utter a warning. thrasaric noticed her expression. "listen, brother," he said; "take care. the director of the festival is the only one who must remain sober. and the wine is heavy, and you know, little brother, you can't stand much because you talk too fast while you are drinking." "there--is--no--no danger!" replied the other, already stammering the words with difficulty. "come forth. iris and ye gods of love!" he waved the staff; it fell from his hand and glauke laid it by his side. suddenly the arched roof of the large silk tent which spanned the arena opened. a rain of flowers--principally roses and lilies--fell upon the altar, the tables, the dancers; a fragrant liquid, scarcely perceptible as a light mist, was sprinkled from invisible pipes over the arena and the seats of the spectators. all at once, breaking through a gray cloud high up at the back of the arena, appeared a sun, shedding a soft golden light. "helios is smiling through the shower of rain," cried thrasabad; "so iris is probably not far distant." at these words the seven-striped bow, glowing magnificently in vivid colors, arched above the whole arena. a young girl, supported by golden clouds, and holding a veil of the seven hues draped gracefully about her head, flew from the right to the left high above the stage. as soon as she had vanished, the rainbow and the sun disappeared too, and while shouts of surprise still rang through the amphitheatre, a band of charming loves--children from four to nine years old, boys and girls--were seen floating by chains of roses from the opening of the tent to the steps of the altar. received by slaves, who released them from the flowery fetters, they grouped themselves on the steps around the muffled figure, toward which all eyes were now directed with eager curiosity. then thrasabad, still clasping glauke, sprang from the drinking table to the altar. the ionian had just taken a freshly filled goblet from his hand. the roars of applause which now burst forth fairly turned the vain youth's head; he staggered visibly as he stood on the highest step, dragging the struggling girl with him. "look, brother," he called in an unsteady voice; "this is _my_ wedding gift. in the senator's villa at cirta--what is his name? he was burned because he clung obstinately to the catholic faith. never mind. i bought the villa from the fiscus; it stands on the foundations of a very ancient one, adorned with imperial splendor, superb mosaics, hunting scenes, with stags, hounds, noble horses, beautiful women under palm-trees! in repairing the cellar this statue was dug out from beneath broken columns; it is said to be more than five hundred years old,--a gem of the best period of greek art. so my freedman says, who understands such things, an aphrodite. show yourself, queen of paphos! i give her to you, brother." he seized a broad-bladed knife which lay on the pedestal, cut a cord, and dropped the knife again. the covers fell; a wonderfully beautiful aphrodite, nobly modelled in white marble, appeared. the loves knelt around the feet of the goddess, and twined garlands of flowers about her knees. at the same moment a dazzling white light fell from above upon the altar and the goddess, brilliantly irradiating the arena, which was usually not too brightly illumined by lamps. the acclamation of thousands of voices burst forth still more tumultuously, the dancers whirled in swifter circles, the drums and cymbals crashed louder than ever; but the sudden increase of uproar and the vivid, dazzling light also reached the open grating of the tiger's cage. he uttered a terrible roar and sprang with a mighty leap against the bars, one of which fell noiselessly out on the soft sand. no one noticed it, for another scene was taking place around the goddess on the high steps of the altar. "i thank you, brother," cried thrasaric. "she is indeed the fairest woman that can be imagined." "yes," replied modigisel. "what do you mean, astarte? are you sneering? what fault can you find there?" "that is no woman," said the carthaginian, icily, scarcely parting her lips; "that is only a stone. go there, kiss it, if it seems to you more beautiful than--" "astarte is right," shouted thrasabad, madly. "she is right! what use is a stone aphrodite? a lifeless, marble-cold goddess of love! she clasps her arms forever across her bosom; she cannot open them for a blissful embrace. and what a stern dignity of expression, as though love were the most serious, deadly-earnest, sacred thing. no, marble statue, you are _not_ the fairest woman! the fairest woman--far more beautiful than you--is my aphrodite here. the fairest woman in the world is mine. you shall acknowledge it with envy! i will, i will be envied for her! you shall all confess it!" and with surprising strength he dragged the greek, who resisted with all her power, up beside him, swung her upon the broad pedestal of the statue, and tore wildly at the white silk coverlet which, while on the ship, glauke had thrown over her shoulders, and the transparent coan robe. "stop! stop, beloved! do not dishonor me before all eyes!" pleaded the girl, struggling in despair. "stop--or by the most high--" but the vandal, who had lost all self-control, laughed loudly. "away with the envious veil!" once more he pulled down the coverlet and the robe. steel flashed in the light (the ionian had snatched the knife from the pedestal), a warm red stream sprinkled thrasabad's face, and the slight figure, already crimsoned with blood, sank at the feet of the marble statue. "glauke!" cried the vandal, suddenly sobered by the shock. but at the same moment, outside the amphitheatre rose in a note of menace a brazen, warlike blare, dominating the loudest swell of the music,--for the dance of satyrs and bacchantes was still continuing,--the blast of the vandal horns. and from the doors, as well as from the highest seats, which afforded a view of the grove, a cry of terror from thousands of voices filled the spacious building: "the _king_! king gelimer!" the spectators, seized with fear, poured out of all the exits. thrasaric drew himself up to his full height, lifted the trembling eugenia on his strong arm, and forced his way through the throng. the voice of the director of the festival was no longer heard. thrasabad lay prostrate at the feet of the silent marble goddess, clasping in his arms the beautiful glauke--lifeless. soon he was alone with her in the vast deserted building. outside--far away--rose the uproar of voices in dispute, but the silence of death reigned in the amphitheatre; even the tiger made no sound, as if bewildered by the sudden stillness and emptiness. it was past midnight. a light breeze rose, stirring the silk roof of the tent, and sweeping together the roses which lay scattered over the arena. chapter xvii thrasaric's guests were standing in the large open square of the grove, directly in front of the amphitheatre they had just left, most of them with the expression and bearing of children caught by their master in some forbidden act. thrasaric had shaken off the last vestige of intoxication. "the king?" he murmured in a low tone. "the hero? i am ashamed of myself." he pulled at the rose-wreath on his shaggy locks. gundomar, sword in hand, approached him with a defiant air. "fear was ever a stranger to you, son of thrasamer. now we must defy the tyrant. face him as we do." but thrasaric made no answer; he only shook his huge head, and repeated to eugenia, whom he had placed carefully on the ground by his side: "i am ashamed in the king's presence. and my brother! my poor brother!" "poor glauke!" sighed eugenia. "but perhaps she is to be envied." now the vandal horns blared again, and nearer. the king, whose approach along the straight street of the legions was distinctly seen from a long distance, dashed into the square, far in advance of his soldiers. only a few slaves bearing torches had succeeded in following him; his brothers, who had summoned a troop of horsemen, were behind with them. the king checked his snorting cream-colored charger directly in front of thrasaric and the nobles so suddenly that it reared. "insubordinate men! disobedient people of the vandals!" he shouted reproachfully. "is this the way you obey your sovereign's command? do you seek to draw upon your heads the wrath of heaven? who gave this festival? who directed it?" "i gave it, my king," said thrasaric, moving a step forward. "i deeply repent it. punish me. but spare him who at my request directed it, my brother. he has--" "vanished with the dead girl," interrupted gundobad. "i wanted to appeal to him also to support with us gundings the cause of the nobles against the king--" "for this hour," added gundomar, "will decide whether we shall be serfs of the asdings or free nobles." "yes, i am weary of being commanded," said modigisel. "we are of no meaner blood than his," cried gundobad, with a threatening glance at the king. already a large band of kinsmen, friends, and followers, many of whom were armed, was gathering round the gundings. thrasaric was stepping into their midst to try to avert the impending conflict, but he was now surrounded by throngs of his own and his brother's slaves. "my lord," they cried, "thrasabad has disappeared. what shall be done? the festival--" "is over. alas that it ever began!" "but the races in the circus opposite?" "will not take place! lead the horses out! return them to their owners." "i will not take the stallion until after we have thrown the dice," cried modigisel. "ay, tremble with rage. i hold you to your word." "and the wild beasts?" urged a freedman. "they are roaring for food." "leave them where they are! feed them!" "and the moorish prisoner?" he could not answer; for while the racehorses, the stallion among them, were being led from the circus into the square between it and the amphitheatre, loud shouts rang from the exits of the latter. "the moor! the captive! he has escaped! he is running away! stop him!" thrasaric turned, and saw the figure of the young moor coming toward him. he had been bound hand and foot, and though successful in breaking the rope around his ankles, he had been unable to sever the one firmly fastened about his wrists, and was greatly impeded in forcing a way through the crowd by his inability to use his hands. "let him go! let him run!" ordered thrasaric. "no," shouted the pursuers. "he has just knocked his master down by a blow of his fist. his master commanded it! he must die! a thousand sestertii to the man who captures him." stones flew, and here and there a spear whizzed by. "a thousand sestertii?" cried one roman to another. "friend victor, let us forget our quarrel and earn them together." "done. halves, o laurus!" the fugitive now darted like an arrow straight toward thrasaric. his lithe, noble figure came nearer and nearer. lofty wrath glowed on the finely moulded young face. then, close beside thrasaric, laurus grasped at the rope hanging from the moor's wrists. a violent jerk, the youth fell. victor grasped his arm. "the thousand sestertii are ours," cried laurus, drawing the rope toward him. "no," exclaimed thrasaric, snatching his short-sword from its sheath. the weapon flashed through the cord. "fly, moor!" the youth was instantly on his feet again; one grateful glance at the vandal, and he was in the midst of the race-horses. "oh, the stallion! my stallion!" shouted modigisel. but the moor was already on the back of the magnificent animal. a word in its ear, the horse sprang forward, the crowd scattered shrieking, and already styx and his rider were flying over the road to numidia in the sheltering darkness of the night. "the stallion," muttered modigisel. "that will cost me the casting of the dice for the young wife." thrasaric gazed after the horse in amazement. "o god, i thank thee! i will deserve it; i will atone. come, little one. to the king! he seems to need me." meanwhile the nobles and their followers had pressed forward threateningly against the king, who did not yield a step. "we will not be ruled by you," cried gundomar. "we will not be forbidden to enjoy the pleasures of life!" exclaimed modigisel. "to-morrow, whether you are willing or not, i will invite my friends. we will meet again in this arena." "no, you will not," said the king, quietly, and taking the torch from the hand of the nearest slave he rose in his stirrups, and, with a sure aim, hurled it high over the heads of the crowd into the silk tent, which instantly caught fire and blazed up brightly. loud roars came from the cages of the wild beasts. "do you dare?" shrieked gundobad. "this house is not yours. it belongs to the vandal nation! how dare you destroy their pleasures, merely because you do not share them?" "and why do you not share them?" added gundomar. "because you are no true man, no real vandal." "an enthusiast--no king of a race of heroes!" "why do you so often tremble?" "who knows whether some secret sin does not burden you?" "who knows whether your courage will not fail when danger--" just at that moment, drowning every other sound, a shrill shriek of horror, of mortal fear, rang from many hundred throats; a short, exulting roar could scarcely be heard through the tumult. "the tiger! the tiger is free!" rose from the arena. and rushing thence in a dense crowd, frantic with terror, came men, women, and children, all struggling together. everywhere they met other throngs, and, unable to go farther, jostled, pushed, stumbled, fell, and were trampled under foot. above them, on the first story of the amphitheatre, directly opposite to the king, the broken chain trailing from its collar, crouched the huge tiger, lashing his flanks with his tail, his jaws wide open, hesitating between the spur of his fierce hunger and the fear of the torches and human beings. at last hunger conquered. the beast's eyes had rested upon one of the race-horses in front of the amphitheatre, and lingered on it as though spellbound. a throng of people surged between the animal and its prey. the leap was almost beyond its powers; but greed urged on the monster and, with a low cry, it sprang over the heads of the multitude upon its chosen victim. all the shrieking people pressed in the same direction. the horses shied; the tiger's leap fell short; he reached the ground scarcely two feet from the racer, which broke its halter and dashed away. the tiger never repeats a spring it has missed. hasdrubal was shrinking back, as if ashamed; but as he stretched out his right fore-paw, it fell upon warm, soft, living flesh. a child, a little girl about four years old, in the gay, spangled dress of a love, had been torn from the side of her mother and thrown down by the fugitives. there she was, lying on her face in the soft grass, the delicate rosy flesh between her head and shoulders rising above her little white dress. the tiger thrust his paw forward and held the child down by the neck--but only for an instant. suddenly he drew back the length of his body, uttering a roar whose fury far exceeded any previous one, for an enemy advancing on foot dared to dispute possession of his prey. the great cat gathered himself to leap, the terrible leap which must overthrow any man. but before the beast could straighten himself for the bound, his adversary thrust a vandal sword between the yawning jaws to the very hilt, and pierced the spine. carried down by the impetus of the blow, the man fell for a moment on the dead tiger; but he instantly sprang up, stepped back, and lifted the stupefied child from the ground. "gelimer! hail to king gelimer! hail to the hero!" shouted the crowd. even the romans joined in the acclamation. "are you unharmed, o king?" asked thrasaric. "as the child," said the latter, calmly, placing the little one in the arms of its weeping, trembling mother, who kissed the hem of the white royal mantle, stained with the wild beast's blood. gelimer wiped his sword-blade on the tiger's soft skin and thrust it into the sheath. then he went back to his horse and stood drawn up to his full height, leaning against its shoulder, his helmeted head held proudly erect. he had retained as king the old helmet with the wings of the black vulture (they seemed now to stir in menace), and merely added genseric's pointed crown. a look of sorrowful contempt rested on the throng; deep silence reigned for the moment; speech failed even the boldest of the nobles. chapter xviii the king's brothers, at the head of their horsemen, now entered the square; they had witnessed the horrible incident from their saddles. springing to the ground, they passionately clasped gelimer's hands. "what troubles you, brother?" asked gibamund. "that is not the glance of the rescuer." "o my brother," sighed gelimer, "pity me! i feel a loathing for my people; and that is hard." "yes, for it is the best thing we possess," replied zazo, gravely. "on earth," answered the king, thoughtfully. "yet is it not a sin to love even this earthly thing so ardently? all earthly possessions are but vanity. is it not true of our people and our native land?--" he sank into a deep reverie. "wake, king gelimer!" called a voice from the throng in friendly warning. it was thrasaric. the sudden change had roused his wonder. he, too, had turned to meet the tiger, but the king, who, from his seat on horseback, had seen the animal crouching to spring, anticipated him. him--and another. the older of the two foreigners had stood still, his spear poised to hurl. "that was a good thrust, theudigisel," he whispered. "but let us see how it will end. this king is losing the best moment." and so it seemed. for meanwhile the nobles had somewhat recovered from their confusion, and, though no longer quite so insolently as before, but still defiantly enough, gundomar stepped forward, saying: "you are a hero, o king! it was ungrateful to doubt it, but you are not easy to understand, yet we neither will nor can serve and obey even a hero as our ancestors, genseric's bears, served him." "it is neither necessary nor possible," modigisel added. he attempted to lisp and drawl according to the roman fashion, but, carried away by genuine emotion, soon forgot the affectation. "we are no longer barbarians, like the comrades of the bloody sea-king. we have learned from the romans to live and to enjoy. spare us the heavy weapons. ours, indisputably, securely ours, is this glorious country, where men can only revel, not toil. pleasure, pleasure, and again pleasure is alone worth living for. when death comes, all will be over. so, as long as i live, i will kiss and drink, will not fight, and will--" "become a slave of justinian," the king angrily interrupted. "pshaw, those little greeks! they will not dare to attack us." "let them come! we will drive them pell-mell into the sea." "ah, if the kingdom were in peril--the gundings know that honor calls them to the head of the wedge in every vandal battle." "but no war is threatening." "no one is trying to quarrel with us." "only it pleases the asdings to make it a pretext for ordering the noblest of the vandals hither and thither like moorish mercenaries or ready slaves." "but we will no longer--we--" modigisel could not finish; the loud blast of a horn and the noise of galloping horses drowned his voice; a white figure on a dark charger was dashing forward at the head of several mounted men. two torch-bearers were on the right and left, but could barely keep up with her; long golden locks were fluttering in the wind, and a large white mantle enveloped both horse and rider. "that is hilda," cried gibamund. "yes, hilda and war!" exclaimed the princess, exultingly, instantly checking her snorting steed. her eyes were blazing, and in her right hand she waved a parchment, crying: "war! king of the vandals. and i--i was permitted to be the first to announce to you the fateful word which, like the brazen voices of the battle horns, summons you, all you asdings, to victory and honor." "she is glorious," said thrasaric to eugenia. the bride nodded. "a cloak," he went on. "she--hilda--must not see me in this absurd, disgraceful guise. lend me your cloak, friend markomer." stripping off the panther-skin, and throwing down the thyrsus, he flung the brown cloak of the leader of the horsemen over his bare shoulders. "how do you, a woman, come with such a message?" asked gelimer, taking the parchment from her hand. hilda now sprang from the saddle into her husband's open arms. "verus sends me. the swift-sailing ships which he expected have just run into the harbor. he intended to bring you this letter--the first one he received--himself. but several other important ones were immediately delivered,--some from the king of the visigoths,--which he was obliged to translate in part from cipher. so he ordered that i should be waked. 'to wake hilda means to wake battle,' my ancestor hildebrand taught me," she added, laughing, with sparkling eyes. "and in truth she came dashing among us like the leader of the valkyries," said thrasaric, rather to himself than to eugenia. "verus of course knows nothing of that," hilda went on. "yet he smiled strangely as he said: 'you are the right bearer of this message and my errand to the king.' i did not linger. i bring you war, and--i feel it, o king of the vandals--certain victory; read." gelimer unrolled the parchment, whose seal had been broken, and motioning to a torch-bearer, read aloud: "'to gelimer, who calls himself the king of the vandals--'" "who is the insolent knave?" interrupted zazo. "goda, formerly governor, now king of sardinia." "goda? the scoundrel! i never trusted him," cried zazo. "'since, by a false accusation, you have dethroned and imprisoned king hilderic, i refuse you allegiance, usurper. you credulous fools forgot that i am an ostrogoth; but i never did. almost the only one left alive in the massacre of my people, i have since thought only of vengeance. in blind confidence you gave me this governorship; but i have won the sardinians, and shall henceforth rule this island as its sovereign. if you dare to attack me, i shall appeal, and i have received the promise of the great emperor justinian's protection. i would far rather serve a powerful imperator than a vandal tyrant.' "ay, this is war!" said gelimer, gravely. "certainly with sardinia. perhaps also with constantinople, though the last letters from there spoke only of peace. did you hear it?"--he now turned with royal dignity to the nobles. "did you hear, you nobles and people of the vandal race? shall i tell the rebel, shall i write to the emperor: 'take and keep whatever you desire! genseric's descendants shrink from the weight of their weapons'? will you now continue to hold festivals in the circus, or will you--" "we will have war!" loudly shouted the giant thrasaric, forcing his way swiftly through the group of nobles. "o king gelimer, your deed, your words, the sight of this glorious woman, and that bold traitor's insolent letter have again waked in me--surely, in us all--what, alas! has slumbered far, far too long. and like the effeminate ornament of these roses,"--he snatched the wreath from his head and hurled it on the ground,--"i cast from me all the enervating, corrupting pleasures and luxuries of life. forgive me, my king, great king and hero. i will atone. believe me, i will make amends in battle for the wrongs i have done." stretching out both hands, he was bending the knee. but the king drew him to his breast: "i thank you, my thrasaric. this will rejoice your ancestor, the hero thrasafrid, who now looks down upon you from heaven." but thrasaric, breaking from the embrace and turning to the nobles, cried: "not i alone; i must win back all, all of you around me, to duty, to heroic deeds! oh, if my brother were only here! comrades, kinsmen, hear me! will you, like me, aid the valiant king? will you obey him? follow him in battle loyally unto death?" "we will! we will! to battle and death!" shouted the nobles. modigisel's voice was louder than any of the rest. gundomar alone hesitated a moment; then, drawing himself up to his full height, he stepped forward, saying, "i did not believe that war was threatening. i really thought it only a pretext of the over-strict king to force us from our life of pleasure to the pursuit of arms. but this goda's insolence and the treacherous emperor's promised aid to him are not to be borne. now it is in truth a conflict for our kingdom. there the gundings will stand on the shield side of the asdings, now, as in former days and forever. king gelimer, you are right. i was a fool. forgive me!" "forgive us all," cried the nobles, surging in passionate excitement toward the king. gelimer, deeply moved, held out both hands, which they eagerly clasped. "oh, hilda," said thrasaric, "you were waked at the right time. this is, in great measure, your work." before the princess could answer, he drew eugenia from the clump of myrtles, into which she had shyly retreated. "do you remember this little maid, my king? you nod? well--i have won her for my wife. not by force! she will say so herself; she loves me. it is hard to believe, isn't it? but she will say so herself. the priest has blessed our union in the presence of all the people. marry us according to your ancient royal right." the king smiled down upon the bride. "well, then! let this marriage be the symbol of reconciliation, the uniting of the two nations. i will--" but a woman's haughty figure had forced a way through the crowd to eugenia's side; a purple mantle gleamed in the red glare of the torches. bending to the delicate, slender girl, she whispered something in her ear. eugenia turned pale. the woman's low, hissing tones ceased, and she pointed with outstretched arm to the numidian road, down which the stallion had vanished. "oh, can it be?" moaned the bride, interrupting the king's words; she tried to move away from thrasaric's side, but her feet faltered. she sank forward fainting. soft arms received her. it was hilda, the valkyria who had just exulted so eagerly in the thought of battle. holding the light figure to her bosom with her left arm, she extended her right hand as if to protect her against thrasaric, who in bewilderment wished to seize her. "back," she said sternly. "back! whatever it may be that has bowed this lily's head, she shall first lift it again upon my breast and under my protection. it was a wrong not easy to forgive to celebrate a wedding with a eugenia here in the grove of venus." a withering glance wandered over astarte, without resting upon her. "thrasaric, decide for yourself. are you worthy to lead this bride home now, from this place?" the giant's powerful figure trembled; his broad chest heaved; he panted for breath, then, sighing deeply, he shook his head and buried it in the folds of his cloak. "eugenia shall stay with me," said hilda, gravely, pressing a kiss on the pale brow of the reviving girl. thrasaric cast one more glance at her, then vanished in the throng. modigisel rushed angrily toward astarte. "serpent!" he cried with no trace of lisping. "fiend! what did you whisper in the poor girl's ear?" "the truth." "no! he never really, seriously meant it. and the stallion has gone to the devil; my game is over." "mine is not." "but you shall not. i am ashamed of the base trick." "i am not," she answered with a short laugh, gazing after thrasaric. "obey, slave, or--" he raised his arm for a blow. again she threw back her beautiful head, but now so violently that the magnificent black hair burst from the gold fillets and fell over her rounded, dazzling shoulders; she closed her eyes and this time actually gnashed her beautiful little white teeth. the vandal dared not strike this threatening creature. "just wait till we reach home. there--" "there we will make friends again," she answered, smiling, flashing a side glance at him from her black eyes. it was open mockery. but a feeling of horror stole over him, and he shuddered as if from fear. "but grant me, my brother and my king, the joy of punishing this goda," cried zazo, who had long been struggling with his impatience, and could no longer control himself. "the fleet is ready to sail; let me go. give me only five thousand picked men--" "we gundings will join you," cried gundomar. "and i will promise to force sardinia back to allegiance in a single battle and to bring you the traitor's head." gelimer hesitated. "now? send away the whole fleet and the flower of the foot-soldiers? now? when the emperor may threaten us here on the mainland at any moment? this must be considered. i must consult verus--" "verus?" cried hilda, eagerly. "i forgot to tell you. verus bade me say to you that he advised trampling out these first sparks without delay. 'i send you, hilda,' he said with a peculiar smile, 'because i know that you will urge and fan the flame of a swift warlike expedition.' you, o king, ought at once, before you return to the capitol, to prepare the fleet in the harbor for departure and send it to sardinia under zazo." "it is prepared," cried the latter, joyously. "for three days it has been ready to meet the byzantines. but the nearest foe is the best one. oh, give the command, my king." "did verus counsel it?" said the latter, gravely. "then it is advisable, is for my welfare. then, zazo, your wish shall be fulfilled." "up! to the ships! to the sea! to battle!" shouted the latter, exultingly. "up, follow me. vandals! tread the decks of the fame-crowned vessels again! the sea, the ocean, was ever the heaving blue battlefield of your greatest victories. do you feel the breath of the morning wind, the strong south-southeast? it is the fair one for sardinia." "the god of wishes himself, who breathes in and rules the wind, is sending it to you, descendants of genseric. follow it; it is the breath of victory that fills your sails. to battle! to battle! on to the sea! on to the sea! on to sardinia!" a thousand voices shouted tumultuously. full of passionate excitement, overflowing with warlike enthusiasm, the vandals poured out of the grove of venus toward carthage and the harbor. the romans gazed after them in amazement; the whole living generation had never witnessed any trace of this spirit in their luxurious, effeminate rulers. "what do you say now, my lord?" asked the younger stranger. "have you not changed your opinion?" "no." "what? yet you saw--" he pointed to the dead tiger. "i saw it. i heard the war-cry of the crowd too. i am sorry for the brave king and his family. let us go to our ship. they will all be lost together." chapter xix during the day following the nocturnal festival the fleet sailed out of the harbor of carthage; it was only necessary to choose the troops intended for the campaign and to send them on board. on the evening of this day gibamund, hilda, and verus had gathered around gelimer in the great hall of the palace, whose lofty arched windows afforded a wide view of the sea. beside the marble table, heaped with papers, stood gelimer, his head bowed as if by deep anxiety; his noble features expressed the gravest care. "you sent for me, friend verus, to listen with gibamund to important tidings which had arrived within the few hours since zazo left us. they must be matters of serious moment, from the expression of your face. begin; i am prepared for everything. i have strength to bear the news." "you will need it," replied the priest, in a hollow tone. "but shall hilda also?" "oh, let me stay, my king," pleaded the young wife, pressing closer to her husband. "i am a woman; but i can keep silence. and i wish to know and share your dangers." gelimer held out his hand to her. "then brave sister-in-law! and bear with us whatever may be allotted by the stern judge in heaven." "yes," verus began, "it seems as if the wrath of heaven indeed rested on you, king gelimer." gelimer shuddered. "chancellor," cried gibamund, indignantly, "cease such words, such unhallowed thoughts. you are always thrusting the dagger of such sayings into the soul of the best of men. it seems as if you tortured him intentionally, fostered this delusion." "silence, gibamund!" said the king, with a deep groan. "it is no delusion. it is the most terrible truth which religion, conscience, the history of the world teach; sin will be punished. and when verus became my chancellor, he remained my confessor. who but he has the right and the duty to bruise my conscience and, by warning me of the wrath of god, break the defiant pride of my spirit?" "but you need strength. king of the vandals," cried hilda, her eyes sparkling wrathfully, "not contrition." gelimer waved his hand, and verus began: "it is almost crushing, blow upon blow. as soon as the fleet had left the roadstead (the last sail had barely vanished from our sight), the messages of evil came. first, from the visigoths. simultaneously with the news from sardinia a long, long letter from king theudis arrived. it contained merely the repetition in many words it came from hispalis--that he must consider everything maturely, must test what we could do in war." "test from hispalis!" muttered gibamund. but verus went on: "a stranger delivered this letter at the palace soon after our fleet went out to sea. it ran as follows:-- "'to king gelimer king theudis. "'i am writing this in the harbor of carthage--'" "what? impossible!" cried the three listeners. "'--which i am just leaving. i wished to see the condition of affairs with my own eyes. for three days i remained among you unrecognized. only my brave general, theudigisel, accompanied me in the fishing boat which bore me across the narrow arm of the sea from calpe, and will be carrying me home again when you read this, gelimer. you are a true king, a true hero. i saw you slay the tiger to-night; but you cannot kill the serpent of degeneration which has coiled around your people. your guards sleep at their posts; your nobles go naked, or in women's garb. i saw them flame up at last, but it is a fire of straw. even if they really desired to improve, they could not change in a few weeks what the slothfulness of two generations has accomplished. the punishment, the recompense, for our sins does not fail.'" the king sighed heavily. "'woe betide him who sought to unite his destiny to your sinking race! i offer you not alliance, but refuge. if after the battle is lost, you can escape to spain,--and i will gladly aid you to do so,--no justinian, no belisarius shall reach you with us. farewell!'" "the subterfuge of cowardice," said gibamund, resentfully. "this man is no coward," replied gelimer, sadly. "he is wise. well, then, we will fight alone." "and invite this wise king theudis to be our guest at our banquet to celebrate the victory!" exclaimed hilda. "do not challenge heaven by idle boasting," warned gelimer. "but be it so. the aid of the visigoths in the war is of less value to us than to have the ostrogoths at least remain neutral; to have sicily--" "sicily," interrupted verus, "if war should be declared, will be the bridge over which the enemy will march into africa." the king's eyes opened wider in astonishment; gibamund started up, but hilda, turning pale, exclaimed,-- "what? my own people? the daughter of the amalungi?" "this letter from the regent has just arrived; cassiodorus composed it. i should know by the scholarly style if he had not affixed his signature. she writes that, too weak to avenge, by her own power, the blood of her father's sister and many thousand goths, she will joyfully see the vengeance of heaven executed by her imperial friend in constantinople." "the vengeance of heaven,--retribution," gelimer repeated in a hollow tone. "all, all, unite in that!" "what?" cried gibamund, in an outburst of rage. "has the learned cassiodorus grown childish? justinian, the wily intriguer, an avenging angel of god! and especially that she-devil, whose name i will not utter in my pure wife's presence! that pair the avengers of god!" "that proves nothing," gelimer murmured, talking to himself as if lost in reverie. "the fathers of the church teach that god often uses evil, sinful men for his deeds of vengeance." "a wise utterance," said the priest, nodding his head gravely. "i cannot believe it," cried gibamund. "where is the sentence?" snatching the letter from verus's hand, he rapidly glanced through it. "sicily shall stand open to the byzantines,--justinian her only real friend, her protector and gracious defender." "ah," cried hilda, sorrowfully, "does the daughter of the great theodoric write that?" "but," gibamund went on in astonishment, "the sentence about the vengeance of heaven--it is not here at all--not one word of it." "not in the mere wording, but the meaning is there," said the priest, taking the letter again and concealing it in the folds of his robe. the king had not noticed the incident. he was pacing up and down the spacious hall with slow, hesitating steps, talking to himself. now he again approached the table, saying wearily: "go on. i suppose this is not all? but the end is coming," he added, unheard by the others. "your messenger. king gelimer, sent to tripolis to bring pudentius here to be tried before your tribunal, has returned." "when did he arrive?" "within an hour." "without pudentius?" "he refuses to obey." "what? i gave the messenger a hundred horsemen to bring the traitor by force if necessary." "they were received with a discharge of arrows from the walls. pudentius had locked the gates, armed the citizens; the city has forsworn its allegiance to you. the whole province of tripolitana has also risen, probably relying upon aid from constantinople. pudentius called from the battlements to your messenger, 'now nemesis is overtaking the bloody vandals.'" the king made a gesture as if to ward off invisible powers assailing him. "nemesis?" cried gibamund. "yes, she will overtake--the traitor. and while such peril threatens us close at hand in africa itself, we send our best weapon,--the fleet,--the flower of our army, and the hero zazo to distant sardinia! how could you counsel that, verus?" "am i omniscient?" replied the priest, shrugging his shoulders. "i told you that the messenger returned from tripolis only an hour ago." "oh, brother, brother," urged gibamund, "give me two thousand men,--no, only one thousand. i will fly to tripolis on the wings of the wind and show the faithless wretch nemesis as she looks in the vandal dragon helmet." "not until zazo returns," replied the king, who had drawn himself up to his full height. "we will not divide our strength still more. zazo must come back at once! it was a grave error to send him. i wonder that i did not perceive it. but your counsel, verus--hush! that is not meant for a reproach. but a swift sailing ship must follow the fleet instantly to summon it back." "too late, my king," cried gibamund, who had hurried to the arched window. "see how high the sea is running, and from the north! the wind has veered since we came in here, shifted from the southeast to the north. no ship can overtake the fleet which, borne by a strong south wind, has a start of many hours." "o god," sighed gelimer, "even thy storms are against us. only--" and again he drew himself up--"who knows whether we may not err in believing the peril so close at hand? constantinople may send a small body of troops to aid sardinia, but whether justinian will really dare to attack us on our own soil here in africa--" "oh, if he would but dare!" cried gibamund. just at that moment a priest--he was a deacon from verus's basilica--hastened in, and, bowing humbly, handed to his superior a sealed letter, saying: "this has just been brought by a swift-sailing ship from constantinople." he bowed again and left the hall. at the first sight of the cord fastening the papyrus verus started so violently that neither of the three could fail to notice it as extraordinary in the man who, usually possessing almost superhuman self-control, never betrayed his emotion by a glance or even a vehement gesture. "what fresh misfortune has happened?" cried even the brave hilda. "it is the sign agreed upon," said verus, now gazing at the letter again with such icy calmness that the very transition from such agitation to such composure could not fail to perplex the witnesses afresh. but the little group were not overwhelmed with astonishment long, and waited impatiently while verus, with a sharp dagger which he drew from the breast of his cloak, severed the brownish-red cord. the pieces, with the dainty little wax-seal fastening them, fell on the floor. casting a single glance at the letter, the priest instantly handed it, without a word, to gelimer. the king read,-- "you will receive a visit in africa; the grain ship has sailed. the persian merchant is in command." "this was the agreement between me and my spy in constantinople: the brownish-red cord means that war is certain; 'visit' is landing; 'grain ship' is the fleet; 'the persian merchant' is belisarius." "ah, that sounds like a war-song," cried hilda. "welcome, belisarius," cried gibamund, grasping his sword. the king threw the letter on the table. his expression was grave but calm: "had this paper been in my hand only a day, only a few hours earlier, all would have been different. i thank you, verus, that you obtained the news today, at least." an almost imperceptible smile--did it mean pride? or was it flattered vanity?--flickered over the priest's pallid, bloodless lips. "i have old connections in constantinople; since this danger threatened i have eagerly fostered them." "well, then," said the king, "let them come! the decision, the certainty, exerts a soothing, beneficial influence after the long period of suspense. now there will be work, military work, which always does me good; it prevents pondering, thinking." "yes, let them come," cried gibamund; "they break into our country like robbers, and we will resist them as if they were robbers. what right has the emperor to interfere with the succession to the vandal throne? right is on our side; god and victory will also be with us." "yes, right is on our side," said the king. "that is my best, my sole support. god defends the right. he punishes wrong; so he will. he must, be with us." this praise of justice, and this joyous confidence in their own cause seemed by no means to please the priest. with a gloomy frown on his brow he raised his sharp, penetrating voice, fixing his eyes threateningly on gelimer,-- "justice? who is just in the eyes of god? the lord finds sin where we see none. and he punishes not only present--" at these words the king relapsed into his former mood; his eyes lost the bright sparkle of resolution. but verus could not finish. a loud noise of voices in angry dispute rose in the corridor leading to the hall. chapter xx "i know those tones," said gelimer, anxiously, turning toward the entrance. "yes; it is our boy," cried gibamund. "he seems very angry." even as he spoke young ammata rushed in, dragging with him by his short hair and the open neck of his robe a lad considerably larger, clad in a richly ornamented tunic, who struggled vainly as the other jerked him with both hands through the entrance, which was closed only by a curtain. the dark eyes, clear-cut features, and round, short head of ammata's foe indicated his roman lineage. "what is it, ammata?" "what has happened, publius pudentius?" "no, no! i won't let you go," shouted the vandal prince. "you shall repeat it in the presence of the king! and the king shall give you the lie! listen, brother! we were playing in the vestibule; we were wrestling together. i threw him. he rose angrily, and, grinding his teeth, said, 'that doesn't count. the devil, the demon of your race, helped you.' "'who?' i asked. "'why, that genseric, the son of orcus. you asdings boast of your descent from pagan gods; but these, so the priest taught us, were demons. that is the reason of his luck, his victories.' "i laughed, but he went on: 'he said so himself. once, when genseric left the harbor of carthage on his corsair ship and the helmsman asked where he should turn the prow, the wicked tyrant answered: "let us drift with the wind and waves toward whomsoever god's anger is directed against."' is that true, brother?" "yes, it is true!" retorted the young roman. "and it is also true that genseric was as cruel as a demon to the defenceless and the prisoners. from rage because he was defeated in an attack upon taenarus he landed at zacynthus, dragged away as captives five hundred noble men and women, and, when out at sea, ordered them the whole five hundred--to be hacked into pieces from the feet upward, and flung into the waves." "brother, surely this is not true?" cried ammata, pushing back his waving locks from his flushed face. "what? you are silent? you turn away? you cannot--" "no, he cannot deny it," cried pudentius, defiantly. "do you see how pale he turns? genseric was a demon. you have all sprung from hell. he and his successors have committed horrible deeds of cruelty upon us romans, us catholics! but wait! it will not remain unpunished. as surely as there is a god in heaven! this curse of sin rests upon you. what do the scriptures say? 'i will visit the sins of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.'" a hollow groan escaped the lips of the king. he tottered, sank upon the couch, and covered his face with the folds of his purple mantle. ammata gazed at him in terror. hilda hastily pushed him and the young roman away. "go!" she whispered. "make friends with each other; you must stop quarrelling. what have you boys to do with such things? make friends, i say." ammata held out his right hand pleasantly; the roman clasped it slowly, angrily. "look," said ammata, stooping, "how lucky!" he lifted from the floor the bit of brownish-red cord, to which the little wax seal hung. "yes, indeed," exclaimed pudentius, in surprise; "the same seal that verus would not give us for our collection of seals and impressions." "it is very odd,--a scorpion surrounded by flames." "last week, when i saw the open letter lying on his table with the seal and cord, how i begged him for it!" "he struck my fingers when i seized it." "i wondered why it should be so valuable." "and to-day we find it thrown away, on the floor." "he might have given it to us, then, after the letter was opened." "he do a kind act? he looks as though he came straight from the nether world." "come, let us go." the two lads left the hall together, apparently friends again. but for how long a time? no one had heard their whispered conversation. gibamund bent over his brother. "gelimer," he cried sorrowfully, "rouse yourself! calm yourself! how can the words of a child--" "oh, it is true, all too true! it is the torture of my life. it is the worm boring into my brain. even the children perceive it, utter it! god, the terrible god of vengeance, will visit the sins of our fathers upon us all,--on our whole nation, especially on genseric's race. we are cursed for the guilt of our ancestors. and on the day of judgment, even from the depths of the sea, accusers will rise against us. when the son of man returns in the clouds of heaven, when the summons is heard: 'earth, open thy heights! mighty ocean, give up thy dead!' those mutilated forms will bear witness against us." "no, no, thrice no!" cried gibamund. "verus, do not stand there with folded arms, so cold, so silent. you see how your friend, your priestly charge, is suffering. you, the shepherd of his soul, help him! take his delusion from him. tell him god is a god of mercy, and every man suffers for his own sins only." but the priest answered gloomily: "i cannot tell the king that he is wrong. you, prince, talk like a youth, like a layman, like a german, almost like a pagan. king gelimer, a mature man, has acquired the ecclesiastical wisdom of the fathers of the church and the secular knowledge of the philosophers. and he is a devout christian. god is a terrible avenger of sin. gelimer is right, and you are wrong." "then i will praise the folly of my youth." "and i my paganism!" said hilda. "they make me happy." "the king's (or your) sacred wisdom makes him miserable." "it might paralyze his strength!" "had he not inherited such unusual vigor from his much-despised ancestors." "and with it the curse of their sins," said gelimer to himself. "we might consider," said verus, slowly, "whether it would not be wise to cast into prison, with the other captives, this publius pudentius, the son of pudentius the rebel, whom he could not take with him in his hasty flight." "the lad? why?" asked hilda, reproachfully. "with shrewd caution, your former kings reared the sons of aristocratic romans at their courts, in the palace," verus went on quietly, "apparently to do honor to their fathers; really as hostages for their fidelity." "shall gelimer the good visit the father's guilt on the innocent son, like your terrible god?" cried gibamund. "that i would never do," said gelimer. "the traitor knew it," replied verus. "he calculated on your mildness; that is why he dares to rebel while his son is in your hands." "let all these boys go in peace to their families." "that will not do. they are old enough, and have seen enough of our preparations and our weak points to do us serious injury if they should talk of them to our foes. they must remain in the city, in the palace. i will leave you now; my work summons me." "one thing more, my verus. it grieves me that i could not extort from zazo before his departure a consent which i have long striven to win from him." "what do you mean?" asked hilda. "i can guess," said gibamund. "it concerns the prisoners in the dungeons of the citadel. when, against the entreaties of the whole nation and zazo's urgency especially, gelimer protected the lives of hilderic and euages, changing the sentence of death pronounced by the council of the nation to imprisonment, he was obliged to promise zazo that at least he would never liberate the prisoners without his consent." "i wished to release them now. but zazo has my promise, and he could not be softened." "he is right,--a rare instance," said verus. "what? you, the priest, counsel against pity and pardon?" asked hilda, in astonishment. "i am also chancellor of this kingdom. the former king would be far too dangerous if he were set at liberty. romans, catholics,--he is said secretly to have joined this church,--might gather round him, and 'the rightful king of the vandals' would be a much-desired weapon against the 'tyrant' gelimer. the prisoners will be better off where they are. their lives are safe--" "they have repeatedly requested an audience; they wish to justify themselves. these petitions--" "were always granted. i have heard them myself." "what resulted from them?" "nothing that i did not already know. did you not feel the armor under hilderic's robe, wrest the dagger from his hand yourself?" "alas, yes! yet i so easily distrust myself. ambition, desire for this crown (one of my heaviest sins), made me only too ready to believe in hilderic's guilt. and now the captive king, protesting his innocence, appealing to a warning letter received by him on that day, which would explain and prove everything, requests another trial. yet you have fulfilled the prisoner's wish and searched for it in the place he named?" "certainly," said verus, quietly, his lifeless features growing even more rigid, more sternly controlled. "that letter is an invention. as hilderic repeatedly asserted that he had concealed it in a secret drawer of 'genseric's golden chest,'--you know the coffer, gibamund?--i searched the whole chest with my own hands and alone. i even found the secret drawer and opened it; nothing of the kind was there. nay, at the prisoner's earnest entreaties, i had the coffer carried to his dungeon and examined by himself in the presence of witnesses. he, too, found nothing." "and no one could have previously removed the letter?" asked gelimer. "you and i alone have the keys to the chest which contains the most important documents. but i must leave you now," said the priest. "i have many letters to write to-night. farewell!" "i thank you, my verus. may the angel of the lord watch over me in heaven as faithfully as you watch and care for me on earth." the priest closed his eyes a moment, then smiling faintly, nodded, saying: "that is my prayer also." he glided noiselessly across the threshold. chapter xxi hilda followed verus's retreating figure with a long, long look; at last, with a slight shake of her beautiful head, she went up to gelimer and said: "do not be angry, my king, if i ask a question which nothing gives me the right to utter, except my anxiety for your welfare, and that of all our people." "and my love for you, brave sister-in-law," replied gelimer, gently stroking her flowing golden hair, and seating himself on the couch again. "for," he added, smiling, "though you are a wicked pagan and often cherish--as i well know--secret resentment, nay, animosity, against me, i love you, foolish, impetuous young heart." she sank down at his feet, on a high, soft cushion covered with leopard skins, while gibamund paced slowly up and down the spacious hall, often gazing out through the lofty arched window over the wide sea. no light was burning in the apartment; but the full moon, which meanwhile had risen above the dark flood and the harbor wall, poured in the full splendor of her rays, which, falling on the features of the three noble human beings, illumined them with a spectral light. "i will not," hilda began, "as zazo and my gibamund have repeatedly done, until you wrathfully forbade it, warn you against this priest, who--" with neither impatience nor anger, gelimer interrupted: "who first discovered the wiles of pudentius; who revealed to us the treachery of hilderic; to whom alone i am indebted for my escape from assassination that night; who has saved the kingdom of the vandals from the snare." gibamund paused in his walk. "yes, it is true. i had almost said, _unfortunately_ true. for i would rather have owed it to any other man." "it is so strikingly true that even our zazo, who at first accused him harshly to me, could scarcely find any objection to mutter, when i took the brilliant man among my councillors and intrusted to him (for he is an expert in letter-writing) the care of the correspondence. and how unweariedly he has toiled since, priest and chancellor at the same time! i marvel at the number of papers he lays before me every morning; i do not believe he sleeps three hours." "men who neither sleep nor fight, drink nor kiss, are unnatural to me," cried gibamund, laughing. "i do not warn," said hilda, "but i ask"--she laid her hand lightly on the king's arm--"how does it happen, how is it possible, that you, the warlike prince of the vandals, loved this gloomy roman, this renegade, better than all who stood nearest to you?" "there you are mistaken, fair hilda," smiled the king, stroking her hand. "yes," she answered, correcting herself; "doubtless you love ammata better; he is the apple of your eye." "my father, on his death-bed, confided this brother (he was then only a prattling boy) to my care. i cherished him in my inmost heart, and reared him as though he were my own child," said gelimer, tenderly. "it is not love," he went on, "that binds me to verus. what constrains me to revere in him my guardian spirit on earth, to look up to him with ardent gratitude, with blind, credulous trust, is the confidence, nay, the superhuman certainty: yes," here he shuddered slightly, "it is a revelation of god, a miracle." "a miracle?" hilda repeated. "a revelation?" gibamund asked incredulously, stopping before them. "both," replied the king. "only, to understand it, you must know more, you must know all, you must learn how my mind, my soul, was tossed to and fro by conflicting powers; you must live through with me once more my wanderings, my perils, and my deliverance. yes, and you shall, you who are my nearest and dearest, now and here; who knows when the impending war will grant us another hour of leisure? "even in my earliest childhood, my father told me, i was not like ordinary children; i dreamed, i asked questions beyond my years. then, it is true, came the happy days of boyhood: arms, arms, and again arms, my only sport, my only labor, my only study. at that time i grew to the power and the pleasure in the use of weapons--" his eyes flashed in the moonlight. "which made you the hero of your people," cried gibamund. "but suddenly an end came. by chance the leader of the hundred who was commanded to execute the order fell sick, and i was next in the list: i, a lad of sixteen, was sent with my troop to witness the terrible tortures of romans, catholics, who would not abjure their faith, in the courtyard of this citadel. the shrieks of agony which pierced through the thick walls had repeatedly roused the carthaginians to insurrection; it was absolutely necessary to guard the dungeons. i had heard that such things were done; i was told that they were needful; that the catholics were all traitors to the kingdom, and the rack was used only to compel them to reveal the secrets of their disloyal plans. but i had never witnessed the scene. now suddenly i beheld it. the boy of sixteen was himself the commander of the executioners. horrible! horrible! about a hundred persons, among them women, old men, boys and girls scarcely as old as i. i commanded a halt. 'by order of the king!' replied the arian priest. i wanted to rush to the aid of the tortured prisoners. alas! verus's whole family were among the victims. i wanted to tear his gray-haired mother from the stake, from the ascending flames, amid which, in spite of her iron chains, she writhed, shrieking in unutterable agony. my own soldiers held me! 'by order of the king!' they shouted. i struck about me, i foamed, i raged. in vain! i shut my eyes that i might see the terrible scene no longer! but ah--" the king hesitated and passed his hand across his brow. then he went on,-- "my name, in a shrill scream, reached my ear. i involuntarily opened my eyes again and saw, stretched toward me, the naked, fettered, arm of the gray-haired woman. 'curses on you, gelimer!' she shrieked. 'curses on you upon earth and in hell! curses on all you asdings! curses on the vandal people and kingdom! god's vengeance for your own and your fathers' sins shall pursue you from childhood to old age. curses, curses on you, murderer gelimer!' and i saw her eyes, horribly disfigured by suffering and hate, piercing mine. then i sank down in the convulsions which, later, often attacked me, and lay gasping under the burden of the thought: even though i myself am free from sin, the despairing woman cursed me as she died; she bore the curse to the throne of god. i must bear the burden of guilt of all our family." he trembled, beads of perspiration stood on his brow. "for god's sake, brother, stop! your illness might return." but gelimer continued: "when i came to my senses, i was no longer a youth; i was an old man; or crushed, half mad, as you will call it. i threw off my sword-belt, helmet, shield, and all my weapons, and--oh, never shall i forget it--that one terrible word alone pressed through my poor brain, deadening all else: 'sin--the curse of sin rests upon me, my family, my people!' "i sought comfort. i seized the bible. i had been taught that god speaks to us through the oracles of the sacred book. with a sharp dagger in my hand i unrolled the passages of holy writ. i appealed to god. 'o lord, wilt thou really punish me for the sins of my ancestors?' i struck haphazard with my dagger at the open page; it pierced the verse: 'for i the lord thy god am a jealous god, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.' "i almost died of terror. once more i controlled myself. from the street below rose the blast of the vandal horns; glittering in brilliant armor, our horsemen were going out to battle with the moors. that was my joy, my pride. twice already i myself had mingled in the victorious conflict. my heart, my courage, my joy in life, revived. i said to myself: 'even though all pleasure is forever dead to me, my people, the vandal kingdom, the hero's duty to live, to fight, to die for his country, summon me. is this, too, nothing? is sin, too, an idle nothing?' again, in another place, i questioned the word of god. i closed the roll, opened it again, and my dagger's point touched the words: all is vanity! "then i sank down in despair. so people and country and heroism, which our ancestors had fostered and praised as at once the highest duty and the greatest pleasure,--this, too, is vanity, is sin before the eyes of the lord." "it is a cruel chance," said gibamund, wrathfully. "and it is folly to believe it," cried hilda. "o gelimer, thou hero, grandson of genseric, does not every pulsation of your heart give the lie to this gloomy delusion." she sprang up, throwing back her flowing hair and fixing a fiery glance upon him. "sometimes, doubtless, fair leader of the valkyrie," replied gelimer, smiling. "and especially since--since god saved me by a miracle. and fear not, granddaughter of hildebrand, you will have no cause to be ashamed of your brother-in-law, the vandal king, when the tuba of belisarius summons us to battle." he raised his noble head, clenching his fist. "oh, joy to us, my husband," cried hilda, "that is still the inmost care of his being--the hero!" and she eagerly pressed her husband's hand. "who knows the inmost care of his own being?" gelimer went on. "at that time--and for years after--all joy in the pomp and glitter of arms was over for me. i was so ill! at that second oracle the convulsions returned; and later they came very frequently, so that my father was compelled to yield to my earnest desire, for i was not yet fit for military service. i was permitted to enter a monastery of the monks of our religion as a pupil, and to remain there in the solitude of the desert. i spent many years within those walls, and during that time i burned all the war songs which i had written in our language to sing to the accompaniment of the harp." "oh, what a shame!" exclaimed hilda. "but a few were preserved by the lips of our soldiers," said gibamund, consolingly; "for instance,-- "'grandsons most noble of ancestors noblest, ancient blood of the asdings, gold-panoplied race of mighty genseric, to ye hath descended the sea-kings' power.'" "and the fatal harvest of his sins!" said gelimer, bowing his head gloomily. he was silent for a time, then he began again,-- "instead of the vandal verse, i now composed latin penitential hymns. my brothers thought that the tortures of the condemned groaned, the flames of hell darted through these trochees. doubtless there were flames--those which i had seen consume living human beings. there was no mortification, no asceticism, which i did not practise to excess. i raged against my flesh; i hated myself, my sinful soul, my body, which dragged with it the curse of mortal sin. i fasted, i scourged myself, i wore the nail-studded belt till it pierced deep wounds. i secretly invented fresh tortures, when the abbot forbade the undue infliction of the old ones. at the same time i devoured all the books in the monastery and the libraries of carthage. i persuaded my father to let me go to alexandria, to athens, to constantinople, to hear the teachers there. i had become more learned, not wiser, when i returned from those schools to the monastery in the desert. at last my father summoned me from this monastery to his deathbed; he committed to me, as a sacred legacy, the care of my youngest brother, the child ammata. i could not selfishly hasten from my father's grave to the desert, as i desired; the care of the child was a human, healthy duty which restored me to the world. i lived for the darling boy." "no father could watch over him more tenderly," cried gibamund. "at that time i was urged to marry. the king, the whole nation wished it. the lady belonged to the royal race of the visigoths, and came to visit carthage. a beautiful, noble, brilliant princess, she charmed my heart and ray eyes. i ruled both, and said, no." "to live solely for ammata?" asked hilda. "not that alone. the thought entered my mind," his brow clouded again, "the curse which the old woman had called down upon my head should not, according to those terrible words of scripture, be transmitted by me from generation to generation. i should tremble to see in my children's faces the features of their accursed father. so i remained unwedded." "what a gloomy idea!" gibamund whispered in the ear of his beautiful wife, as, drawing her tenderly toward him, he kissed her cheek. "i suppose it was at that time," said hilda, "that you composed that denunciation which condemns all love as sin?" "maledictus amor sextus, maledicta oscula, sint amplexus maledicti inferi ligamina." "it is all untrue," she added smiling, warmly returning her husband's embrace. but gelimer went on: "the result will teach us the truth--on the day of judgment. the care of the boy cured me. i again turned to the practice of arms; it would soon be necessary to teach my pupil their use. but a still greater aid was the duty--" "you owed your people and your native land," interrupted hilda. "yes," added gibamund. "at that time the moors had proved greatly superior to our effeminate troops, and especially our unwarlike king. we were defeated in every battle, and could no longer hold our own in the open field against the camel-riders. our frontier was harried year after year. nay, the robbers of the desert grew bold enough to penetrate deep into the heart of the proconsular province, till they made forays to the very gates of carthage. then i was summoned to become the shield of my people; i did so gladly. the old love of arms waked anew, and i said to myself: 'no vain, sinful greed for fame urges you on.'" "what? is heroism called a sin?" cried hilda. "you were fighting only to defend your people." "ah, but he found much pleasure in it," replied gibamund, smiling at his wife. "and he often pursued the moors farther into the desert, and in following them killed many more with his own hand than the protection of carthage would have required." "may heaven pardon all that i did beyond what was necessary," said gelimer, in a troubled tone. "the thought, 'it is a sin,' often paralyzed my arm, even in the midst of battle. often, too, i was overwhelmed by the old melancholy, the torturing fear of sin, the consciousness of guilt, the burden of the curse of the burning woman, the words piercing to the quick: 'all is sin, all is vanity!' "then came the day which brought to me the most terrible ordeal,--tortures little less than those suffered by the catholics, the parents and relatives of verus, and at the same time the decision, rescue, deliverance, through verus. yes, as jesus christ is my redeemer in heaven, this priest became my savior, my redeemer on earth." "do not blaspheme," warned gibamund. "i, unfortunately, am not so devout a christian as you; but the saviour is only like unto, not equal with, god--" "you have learned your arian creed by heart, my dear one," cried hilda, laughing. "but old hildebrand said he was neither like nor equal to the gods of our ancestors." "no, for they are demons," said gelimer, wrathfully, making the sign of the cross. "yet i should not like to compare the gloomy verus with christ," replied gibamund. "i had felt toward him as you, as zazo, as almost all did; he did not attract, he rather repelled me. that he--he alone of all his kindred, whose death for their faith he had witnessed, should have adopted the religion of their executioners! was it from fear, or really from conviction? i distrusted him! it displeased me, too, that king hilderic, the friend of the byzantines, whose plots against my own succession to the throne i already suspected, so greatly favored him. how greatly i wronged verus there he has now proved; he--he alone saved me and the vandal kingdom. thus he has done visibly what god's sign announced to me in the most terrible moment of my life. now listen to what only our zazo yet knows; i told him, as an answer to his warning. hear, marvel, and recognize the signs and wonders of god." chapter xxii it was three years ago. we had again marched against the moors, this time to the southwest to meet the tribes which pitch their tents at the foot of the auras mountains. we passed through the proconsularis, then numidia, and from tipasa forced the foe out of the level country up the steep mountains, where, amid inaccessible rocks, they sought refuge. we encamped on the plain, keeping them surrounded until hunger should force them to yield. days, weeks elapsed. the time grew too long for me, and often, riding along the mountain chain, i sought some spot where lower cliffs might render it possible to scale or storm them. "on one of these lonely rides (i needed no companion, for the enemy did not venture down into the valley) i had gone a long, long distance from our camp. riding in a wide circuit around a projecting cliff, i lost the right direction in the vast, monotonous desert. i had never examined this side of the mountains, they seemed less difficult to scale; i felt no anxiety about returning, though my panting horse had covered many a mile,--the prints of his hoofs would guide me back. already the rays of the ardent sun were falling more aslant, and brown mists were gathering around the glowing disk. i wished to see what lay beyond the nearest cliff, and, guiding my horse close to the rocky base, i turned the corner. instantly a terrible sound deafened my ears,--a roar that made every nerve quiver. my horse reared in terror; i saw, only a few paces in front of me, a huge lion, a monster in size, crouching to spring. i hurled my spear with all my force; but at the same moment my horse, frantic with fear, reared still higher, overbalanced himself, and fell backward, burying me under his weight. a sharp pain in the thigh was the last thing i felt. then my senses failed." he paused, deeply agitated by the remembrance of the scene. hilda, her lips half parted, gazed at him in breathless suspense. "a lion?" she faltered. "they usually shun the desert." "yes," said gibamund. "but they like to prowl among the mountains close to the border. i know that you were brought back to carthage with a broken thigh," he added. "many, many weeks passed before you were cured; but i was not aware--" "when i recovered consciousness the sun was setting. it was burning hot--everything--the air, the dry sand on which the back of my head rested (for the helmet had slipped off in my fall), the heavy horse which lay motionless on my right leg and thigh. he had broken his neck. i tried to drag myself from beneath the heavy burden. impossible; i could not move the broken limb. by bracing my right hand and arm on the sand, i attempted to raise the upper part of my body above the carcass of the horse. i succeeded. directly in front of me was the lion! the animal lay motionless on his belly a few feet away; the handle of my spear protruded from his breast just beside his right fore-paw. my heart exulted at his death. but alas, no! now that i had stirred, a low angry growl came from his half-open jaws. the mane bristled; he tried to rise, but could not, and remained lying where he had fallen. then the claws clenched the sand deeper, evidently in the attempt to drag the body nearer, while the monster's glittering eyes were fixed full on mine. and i?--i could not draw back a single inch. then--i will not deny it--fear, base, abject, trembling terror seized me. i let myself fall back upon the sand; i could not bear the horrible sight. through my brain darted the thought: 'woe betide you, what will be your fate?' and in my despair, my mortal terror, i shrieked as loud as i could, 'help, help!' but i repented horribly; my voice must have roused the fury of the wounded animal; a roar answered me,--a roar so frightful in its rage and menace that my breath failed. when silence followed, my blood rushed, seething, through my veins. what threatened me? what end awaited me? no cries for aid would be heard by our troops; many, many miles of untrodden desert sands separated me from our farthest outposts. i had not seen during my whole ride a single trace of the foe among the mountains; how gladly would i have surrendered myself into their hands as a captive! but to languish here, under the scorching sun, on the burning sands--to perish slowly, for already thirst was torturing me with its terrible pangs! ah, and i had heard that this agonizing death by thirst might drag along for days in the lonely wilderness. "then, looking up to the pitiless, leaden sky, i asked in a whisper,--i confess that i was afraid to wake the lion's voice again,--'god, god of justice, why? what sin have i committed to be forced to suffer thus?' "then through my brain darted the terrible answer of holy writ: 'i will visit the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.' you are atoning, i groaned, for the sins of your ancestors; the curse of those who were burned at the stake is burning you here. you are condemned upon earth and in hell. is this already hell that compasses me with such scorching heat, that sears my eyes, my throat, my chest, nay, my very soul? and hark! more terrible, louder still, it seemed to me, nearer, rose the roar of the monster. my senses failed again. "i lay unconscious all night, probably passing from the fainting fit into a dream. in my half-doze i again saw everything that had happened. 'ah,' i murmured, smiling, 'it is only a dream; it can be nothing but a dream. such things do not belong to the world of reality. you are lying in your tent, with your sword by your side.' rousing, i grasped at the hilt. oh, horrible! i clutched the desert sand. it was no dream. "day had already dawned, and the sun again shone pitilessly with its scorching rays upon my unprotected face. now the thought came, 'my sword! a weapon!' bear the same torture, the same mortal anguish, for long hours? no! god forgive the heavy sin, but i would end my life; i was already condemned to hell! i grasped my sword-belt; an empty sheath hung from it. the blade had dropped out in the fall. i glanced around and saw the trusty weapon lying very near. never had i loved it as i did at that moment; it was just at my left; i tried to seize it--in vain. far as i could stretch my arm, my fingers, the faithful blade lay--perhaps barely six inches away--but beyond my reach. then a low growl reminded me of the lion, and by a great effort (my strength was failing) i raised myself high enough to see the animal. "alas! was it an illusion, indicative of approaching madness? for my thoughts were darting through my brain like clouds whirling before the blast of the coming storm. no! it was true. the monster had moved nearer, much nearer than the day before. it was no illusion. i could estimate clearly. yesterday, no matter how far he stretched his paw, he could not reach the large black stone which had fallen from the cliff directly in front of my horse; now it lay almost by the wild beast's hind leg. during these hours, urged by increasing hunger, the lion had pushed himself forward almost the entire length of his body, and now lay only a foot and a half or two feet from me. if he should advance still farther--if he should reach me? helpless, defenceless, i must allow myself to be devoured alive! then terror darted through my heart. in mortal anguish i prayed aloud to god, struggled with him in appeal: 'no, no, my god, thou must not abandon me! thou must save me, god of mercy!' at this moment i suddenly remembered the belief of our whole people concerning the guardian spirits whom god has allotted to us in the form of helpful human beings. do you remember? the attendant spirits." "yes," said gibamund. "and by fervent prayer we can, in the hour of supreme peril, constrain god to show us the guardian spirit sent by him to our rescue." "my ancestor, too," said hilda, "believed in them firmly. he said that our forefathers imagined the guardian spirits in the form of women who invisibly followed the chosen heroes everywhere to protect them. but since the christian religion came--" "these demon women have left us," said gelimer, crossing himself, "and god has assigned to us _men_, who are our keepers, counsellors, saviors, and guardian spirits here on earth. 'send me, o god,' i cried, in an agony of entreaty, 'send me in this hour of utmost need the man whom thou hast appointed to be my guardian spirit here on earth. let him save me! and so long as i breathe, i will trust him as i would thyself, will revere in him thy wondrous power.' "when i had ended this fervent prayer, my heart suddenly grew lighter. true, great weakness, almost faintness, stole over me; but there blended with it something infinitely sweet, inexpressedly happy and full of relief and now, in my feverish illusion, i suddenly beheld alluring visions of deliverance; the terrible thirst which tortured me painted a spring of delicious water gushing from the rocks close beside me. the rescuers, too, were already coming! not zazo, not gibamund; i knew that they had marched against other moors, far, far westward of my camp. no, it was some one else, whose features i could not see distinctly. he dashed forward on a neighing horse; he slew the lion; he dragged the constantly-increasing weight of my dead horse from my body. then i heard only a rushing, ringing noise in my ears, which said: 'your deliverer is here! your guardian spirit.' suddenly the ringing died away, and--it was no fevered dream--i heard in reality behind me, from the direction of our camp, the neighing of a horse. with my last strength i turned my head and saw a few paces behind me a man who had just sprung from his horse. he was standing in a hesitating, doubting attitude, as if reflecting, with his hand clenched on his sword-hilt, gazing at me and the lion." "he hesitated?" cried hilda. "he reflected; a vandal warrior?" "he was no vandal." "a moor? a foe?" "it was verus, the priest." "'my guardian spirit,' i cried, 'my preserver! god has sent you. take my whole life!' then my senses failed again. "verus told me afterwards that he cautiously approached the lion, and, seeing how deeply the weapon had penetrated, he hastily tore the spear from the wound; a tremendous rush of blood followed, and the monster died. then he dragged me from under the dead horse, lifted me with difficulty on his own, bound me firmly on its back, and carried me slowly to the camp. my soldiers had sought me solely in the path along which they saw me ride out; verus, who accompanied our army, was the only one who noticed that, after leaving the encampment that morning, i turned eastward. and when i was missed, he searched until he found me." "alone?" "entirely alone." "how strange!" said hilda; "how easily, alone, he might have failed in his purpose!" "god enlightened and sent him." "and did you--did he never tell others?" gelimer shook his noble head gravely. "the miracles of god are not to be the subject of idle talk. i earnestly besought his forgiveness that, formerly, i had almost distrusted him. he generously pardoned me. 'true, i felt it,' he said. 'it grieved me. now atone by trusting me fully. for in truth you are right. god really did send me to you; i _am_ your fate, i am the tool in god's hand that watches over your life and guides it to its predestined goal. i saw you--as if in a dream, though i was awake--lying helpless in the desert, and a secret voice urged me on, saying: "seek him. thou shalt become his fate!" and i could not rest until i had found you.' "now i have confided this to you that you may no longer wound me by your doubts. no, hilda, do not shake your head. no objection; i will suffer none. how your distrust angers me! has he not saved me a second time? do you want a third sign from god, unbeliever? i would not wish to be incensed against you, so i will leave you. it is late. believe, trust, and keep silence." with a bearing of lofty dignity, he left the room. hilda gazed after him thoughtfully. then she shrugged her shoulders. "mere chance," she said, "and superstition! how can delusion ensnare such a mind?" "such danger threatens just such minds. i rejoice that mine is less exalted." "and that your soul is healthy!" cried hilda, starting from her reverie with a gesture of relief, and throwing both arms around her beloved husband. chapter xxiii early on the morning of the third day after the meeting in the great hall of the palace, hilda and her young charge, eugenia, were sitting together in one of the women's apartments, talking eagerly over the work at which they were industriously toiling. the narrow but lofty arched window afforded a view of the large square courtyard of the palace. in which there was an active stir of military preparation. in one portion of the wide space newly arrived vandal recruits were being divided into bands of tens and hundreds; in another they were discharging arrows and hurling spears at targets made of planks which, in height, width, and general appearance, resembled as closely as possible byzantine warriors in full defensive armor. a special oval enclosure was reserved for the inspection of horses and camels offered for sale by moorish traders. the king, gibamund, and the gundings went from group to group. hilda was sitting on a pile of cushions, from which, whenever she looked up, she could see the whole courtyard without the least difficulty. she was working industriously upon a large piece of scarlet woollen cloth which lay spread over the laps of both women. often the needle fell from her hand, while a radiant glance flashed down at the noble figure of her slender husband. if he met it and waved his hand to her,--few of her glances escaped his notice,--a lovely flush of shy, sweet happiness glowed on the young wife's cheeks. hilda saw that eugenia stretched her delicate neck forward several times to obtain a glimpse of the courtyard. but she did not succeed; her seat was too far back from the window; and when at another attempt she perceived that her effort had been noticed, she crimsoned with alarm and shame far more deeply than hilda had just done from pleasure. "you have finished the lower hem," said hilda, kindly. "push another cushion on the stool. you must sit higher now, on account of the work." the young greek eagerly obeyed, and a stolen glance flew swiftly down into the courtyard. but her lashes drooped sorrowfully, and she drew her gold-threaded needle still faster through the red cloth. "new hundreds will soon arrive," remarked hilda, "and then other commanders will come into the courtyard." eugenia made no reply, but her face brightened. "you have been so diligent that we shall soon finish," hilda went on. "the setting sun will see genseric's old banner floating again in restored beauty from the palace roof." "the golden dragon is nearly mended, only one wing and the claws--" "they probably grew dull during the long years of peace, when the banner lay idle in the arsenal." "there were frequent battles with the moors." "yes, but genseric's old battle-standard was not shaken from its proud dreams on account of those little skirmishes. only small bodies of mounted troops rode forth, and the majestic signal of war was not unfurled on the palace. but now that the kingdom is threatened, gelimer has commanded that, according to ancient custom, the great banner should be unfurled on the roof. my gibamund brought it to me to replace the worn embroidery with fresh gold." "we should have finished it before, if you had not placed those strange little signs half hidden along the hem--" "hush," whispered hilda, smiling, "he must not know it." "who?" "why, the pious king. alas, we shall never understand and agree with each other!" "why must he know nothing about it?" "they are the ancient runes of victory of our people. my ancestor hildebrand taught them to me. and who can tell whether they may not help?" as she spoke, she passed her hand over her work with a tender, caressing motion, humming softly,-- "revered and ancient runes so glorious, magical symbols of victory's bliss, float ye and sway with the fluttering banner high o'er our heads! summon the swift, lovely, and gracious maids, brave and bold, hovering swan-like our heads far above! givers of victory, radiant sisterhood, fetter the foe, stay their proud columns, weaken their sword-strokes, shiver their spears, break their firm shields, shatter their breastplates, hew off their helmets!-- unto our warriors victory send ye; joyous pursuit, speeding on swift steeds, shouting in glee, after the flying ranks of the vanquished!" "there! the ancient rune has often helped the amalungi; why should it not aid the asdings? aha! now let the dragon fly again. he has moulted," she added, laughing merrily; "now his wings have grown new." springing to her feet, she raised the long heavy shaft, terminating in a sharp point, to which the square scarlet cloth was fastened with gold-headed nails, and with both hands she waved the banner joyously around her head. it was a beautiful picture: gibamund and many of the warriors below saw the floating banner and the lovely woman's head surrounded by her flowing golden hair. "hail, hilda, hail!" rose in an echoing shout. startled, the young wife sank on her knees to escape their eyes. yet she had heard _his_ voice, so she smiled, happy in her embarrassment, and charming in her confusion. eugenia, doubtless, felt the winsome spell, for, suddenly slipping down beside the princess, she covered her hands and beautiful round white arms with ardent kisses. "oh, lady, why are you so glorious? i often look up to you with fear. when your eyes flash so, when, like pallas athene, you talk so enthusiastically of battle and heroic deeds, fear or awe steals over me and holds me away from you. then again, when--as has so often happened during these last few days--i have seen your shy, sweet happiness, your love, your devotion to your husband, then, oh, then--pardon my presumption--i feel as near, as closely akin to you, as--as--" "as a sister, my eugenia," said hilda, clasping the charming creature warmly to her heart. "believe me, brave, fearless heroism does not exclude the most loyal, the most devoted wifely love. i have often argued that question with the most beautiful woman in the whole world." "who is that?" asked eugenia, doubtfully; for how could any one be fairer than hilda? "mataswintha, granddaughter of the great theodoric, in the laurel-grown garden at ravenna. she would have become my friend; but she desired to hear only of love, nothing of heroism and duty to people and kingdom. she knows only one right, one duty--love. this separated us sharply and rigidly. yet how touchingly both may be united, a beautiful old legend celebrates. my noble friend, teja, once sang it for my grandfather and me to the accompaniment of his harp, in measures so sorrowful and yet so proud--ah, as only teja can sing. i will translate it into your language. come, let us mend this corner of the golden hem; meanwhile, i will tell you." both took their seats by the open window again. once more eugenia's glance, still in vain, often flitted over the courtyard, and while the two were industriously embroidering, the princess began: "it was in ancient times: when eagles shrieked, holy waters flowed from heavenly mountains. far, far away from here, in the land of thule in scandinavia, a noble hero was born of the wölsung race. his name was helgi, and he had no peer on earth. when, after great victories over the hundings, the hereditary foes of his family, he sat resting on a rock in the fir-woods, light suddenly burst from the sky, from whose radiance beams darted like shining lances, and from the clouds rode the valkyries, who--according to the beautiful religion of our ancestors--are hero-maidens who decide the destinies of battle, and bear the fallen heroes up to the shield-wainscoted halls of the god of victory. they rode in helmets and breastplates; flames blazed at the points of their spears. one of them, sigrun, came to the lonely warrior, clasped his hand, greeted him, and kissed his lips beneath his helmet, and they loved each other deeply. "but sigrun's father had betrothed her to another, and helgi was compelled to wage a hard battle for his love. he killed her lover, her father, and all her brothers except one. sigrun herself, hovering in the clouds, had given him the victory, and she became his wife, though he had slain her father and her brothers. but soon helgi, the beloved hero, was murdered by the one brother whom he had spared. true, the assassin tried to make amends to the widow; but she cursed him, saying: 'may the ship that carries you never move forward, though a fair wind is blowing! may the steed that bears you stop running, when you are fleeing from your foes! may the sword you wield cease to cut, and may it whirl around your own head! may you live in the world without peace, as the hunted wolf wanders through the forest!' disdaining all comfort, she tore her hair, saying: 'woe betide the widow who accepts consolation! she never knew love, for love is eternal. woe to the wife who has lost her husband! her heart is desolate; why should she live on?'" eugenia softly repeated the words: "woe betide the widow who accepts consolation! she never knew love, for love is eternal. woe to the wife who has lost her husband! her heart is desolate; why should she live on?" "'helgi towered above all other heroes, as the ash towers above thorns and thistles. for the widow there remains but one spot on earth--her husband's grave. sigrun will no longer find pleasure in this world, unless perchance a light should burst from the doors of his tomb, and i might again embrace him.' "and so mighty, so all-constraining is the longing of the true widow, that it will even break the power of death. in the evening a maid-servant came running to sigrun, saying: 'hasten forth, if you wish to have your husband again. look! the mound has opened; a light is streaming from it; your longing has brought the hero from the heaven of the god of victory; he is sitting in the mound and beseeches you to stanch his bleeding wounds.'" eugenia, in a low, trembling voice, repeated: "the longing of the true widow will even break the power of death." "sigrun went in to helgi, kissed him, stanched his wounds, and said: 'your locks are drenched with moisture; you are covered with blood; your hands are cold--how shall i keep you?' 'you are the sole cause,' he replied. 'you shed so many tears, and each fell a blood-stain upon helgi's breast.' 'then i will weep no more,' she cried; 'but will rest upon your heart, as i did in life.' 'you will remain in the mound with me, in the arms of the dead, though you still live,' cried helgi, exultingly. "you will remain in the mound, in the arms of the dead, though you still live," eugenia repeated. "but the legend relates that when sigrun also died, both were born again: he a victorious hero, but she a valkyrie. this is the ballad of how a woman's true love, a widow's true anguish, conquers death, and, in omnipotent yearning, even forces a passage into the grave to the beloved one." "and in omnipotent yearning forces a passage into the grave to the beloved one." hilda looked up suddenly. "child, what is the matter?" the princess had spoken with such enthusiasm that at last she paid no heed to her listener. but now she heard a low sob, and, in bewilderment, saw the greek kneeling on the floor, bending forward over the stool, hiding her lovely face in both hands; tears were streaming between the slender fingers. "eugenia!" "o hilda, it is so beautiful. it must be so blissful to be loved! and it is also happiness to love unto death. oh, happy gibamund's hilda! oh, happy helgi's sigrun! how this song makes the heart ache and yet rejoice! how beautiful and, alas, how true it is, that love conquers all things, and draws the loving woman to her beloved, even to his grave! they are united in death, if no longer in life. that thought possesses stronger power than spell or magnet." "o sister, does this little heart love so strongly, so fervently, so genuinely? speak freely at last. not a single word during all these days have you--" "i could not! i was so ashamed for myself, and, alas! for him. and i dare not speak of my love! it is a disgrace and shame. for he, my bridegroom,--no, my husband,--does not love me!" "indeed he does love you, or why should the reckless noble have wooed you so humbly?" "alas, i do not know. hundreds of times during the last few days have i asked myself that question. i do not know. true, i believed--until the day before yesterday--it was from love. and often this foolish heart believes it still. but, no, it was not love. caprice weariness--perhaps," and now she trembled wrathfully, "a wager,--a game that he desired to win and which lost its charm as soon as he succeeded." "no, my little dove! thrasaric is incapable of that." "oh, yes, oh, yes!" eugenia sobbed despairingly. "he is capable of it." "i do not believe it," said the princess, and, sitting down beside her, she lifted the forsaken little bride into her arms as if she were a child, dried her wet cheeks with the folds of her own white mantle, stroked her burning lids, smoothed her tangled hair, pressed the little head to her soft bosom, and rocked gently to and fro, saying soothingly: "everything will be well again, little one, and soon; for he does love you. that is certain." a suppressed sob and a slight shake of the head said, no! "certain! i do not know, nor do i wish to know, what that woman hissed into your ear. but i saw how it wounded you, like a poisoned arrow. whatever it may be--" "i will never, never, never tell!" the girl fairly shrieked. "i do not wish to know, i told you. whatever his guilt may be, the christians have a beautiful saying: 'love beareth all things.'" "love beareth all things," murmured eugenia. "but, of course, love only. tell me, little sister, do you really love him?" the weeping girl, springing from the princess's clasping arms, stood erect, and stretching both arms wide exclaimed, in a low tone, "alas! unspeakably!" and threw herself again on her friend's breast. her large soft eyes sparkled through her tears as she went on in a low whisper, as though fearing that strangers might hear in the secluded chamber: "that is my sweet secret,--the secret of my shame." she smiled radiantly. "i loved him long ago, i believe even as a child. when he came to my father to buy grain for his villas, he lifted me in his strong arms like a feather, until i--gradually--forbade it. the older i grew, the more ardently i loved, and therefore the more timidly i avoided him. oh, do not betray it as long as you live--when he seized me, bore me away in the public street--fiercely as my wrath, my honor rebelled, deeply as i suffered from pity for my father--yet yet--yet! while struggling desperately in his iron arms, screaming for help--yet!--in the midst of all the mortal fright and anger, there blazed here in my heart, secretly, a warm, happy, blissful emotion: 'he loves me; he tortures me from love!' and, amid all the keen suffering, i was happy, nay, proud, that he dared so bold a deed for love of me! can you understand, can you forgive that?" hilda smiled bewitchingly: "forgive? no! i am utterly bewildered with sheer pleasure. forgive _me_, little one. i had not expected from you so much genuine, ardent woman's love! but, you obstinate little creature, you hypocrite,--why did you so long conceal and deny your feelings toward him from your father and your friend?" "why? that is perfectly plain," exclaimed the girl, indignantly. "from embarrassment and shame. it is terrible, it is a frightful disgrace, for a young girl, instead of hating the man who seized her in the public market-place, and even kissed her at the same time, to love him. it is utterly abominable." half weeping, half smiling, she hid her face on her friend's breast, tenderly kissing a little gold cross that she wore round her neck attached to a thin silver chain, and lovingly pressing to her bosom a bronze semi-circle, inscribed with runes, that she wore on her arm. "his betrothal and, alas, his marriage gift," she sighed. "yes, you love him deeply," said hilda, smiling. "and he? he sent my gibamund to me with frequent messages of the anguish he was suffering, and he was as grateful as a blind man who has been restored to sight when i told him that he was indeed wholly unworthy of you; but if he really desired to win you for his wife, he must ask you if you would wed him, and then beg your father for your hand. this simple bit of wisdom made him as happy as a child. he followed the counsel, and now--" "now?" eugenia interrupted, in almost comical indignation. "now he has not been seen at all for nearly three days. who knows how far away he may be?" "not very far," cried hilda, laughing; "he is just riding into the courtyard below." eugenia's little head was at the window like a flash of lightning. a half-stifled cry of joy escaped her lips, then she instantly stooped again. "oh, oh, how magnificent he looks!" cried hilda, clasping her hands with the most joyful surprise. "in full, heavy armor, a huge bear-head with gaping jaws on his helmet--" "oh, yes! he killed it himself on the auras mountain," murmured the little bride. "and how the skin floats around his mighty shoulders! he carries a spear as thick as a sapling, and on his shield--what is the emblem? a stone-hammer?" "yes, yes," cried eugenia, eagerly, lifting her head cautiously to the window-sill, "that is his house-mark. his family descends, according to ancient tradition, from a red-bearded demon with a hammer--i don't remember the name." "what demon?" exclaimed hilda. "the god donar is his ancestor, and thrasaric does him honor. he is talking with gibamund. they are looking up; he is saluting me. oh dear, how pale and sad the poor giant looks!" "is that true?" the little brown head flew up again. "stoop, little one! he must not see that we are far less able to bear the yearning than he. my husband is waving his hand to me. he is coming upstairs; thrasaric seems to be following him." eugenia had already vanished in the next room. chapter xxiv hilda flew to the threshold to meet her husband, and the young couple tenderly embraced. "are you alone?" asked gibamund, glancing around him. "i thought i saw your little antelope at the window." hilda pointed silently to the curtains at the door of the adjoining room; her husband nodded. "you will have a visitor presently," he said, raising his voice. "thrasaric wishes to speak to you. he has all sorts of important things to say." "he will be welcome." "have you finished the banner?" "oh, yes." seizing the pole, she raised the heavy standard aloft; the scarlet cloth, more than five feet long and two and a half feet wide, flowed in long heavy folds around the two slender figures. it was a beautiful, solemn sight. gibamund took the banner from her. "i will place it on the battlements of the loftiest tower, that it may wave a bloody welcome to our foes. oh, thou choicest jewel, shield of the vandal fame, genseric's victorious standard, never shalt thou fall into the hands of the foe so long as i draw breath!" he cried enthusiastically. "i swear it by the head of the beloved wife over which thy folds are floating." "neither your eyes nor mine shall ever witness that. i, too, swear it," said hilda, with deep earnestness, and a slight shiver ran through her limbs as a gust of wind blew the scarlet cloth closely around her shoulders and breast. gibamund kissed the fair brow and the beautiful eyes which were lifted with a radiant light to his own, and hurried out of the room with the banner. on the threshold he met thrasaric. hilda sat down again beside the window. "welcome, thrasaric!" she said loudly, as the curtain in the doorway of the adjoining room waved to and fro. "i commend you. in full armor! it suits you better than--other costumes. i hear that you have been made commander of many thousand men. you are to fill zazo's place until his return. what brings you to me?" these friendly words evidently soothed the embarrassment of the giant, whose face had crimsoned when he entered the apartment. he cast a searching glance around the room, hoping to discover some trace--some article of clothing; but he did not find it. his whole soul was burning with the desire to speak of eugenia, to ask about her, to learn her feelings. yet he so feared to approach the subject. he did not know whether his bride had told her friend of his heavy, heavy sin. he feared it. surely it was probable that the princess had asked the girl the cause of her terror; and why should eugenia keep silence? why should she spare him? had he deserved it? had not the indignant girl, with the utmost justice, cast him off forever? all these questions, over which he had been pondering, now pressed at once on his bewildered brain. he was so bitterly ashamed of himself, he would rather have marched alone to meet belisarius's entire army than talk now with this noble woman; yet he had boldly encountered harder things. as he made no reply, but merely stood with laboring breath, hilda repeated the question,-- "what brings you to me, thrasaric?" he must answer--he saw that. so he replied, but hilda was almost startled when he cried loudly, "a horse." "a horse?" asked the princess, slowly. "what am i to do with it?" thrasaric was glad to be able to speak, and at some length, of subjects not connected with eugenia. so he now answered, quickly and easily: "to ride it." "yes," laughed hilda, "i suppose so! but to whom does the horse belong?" "to you. i give it to you. gibamund has permitted it. he commands you to accept it from me. do you hear? he commands." "well, well! i haven't refused yet. so i thank you cordially. what kind of horse is it?" "the best one on earth." the answers now came with the speed of lightning. "gibamund and my brother-in-law said that of cabaon's stallion." "it is the very horse." "that belongs to modigisel." "not now." "why?" "oh, for many reasons. in the first place, it is now yours. secondly, the animal lately ran away from modigisel at night, was carried off. thirdly, modigisel is dead. and, fourthly, the stallion belongs to me." these replies had come almost too rapidly. hilda gazed at him without understanding. "modigisel dead? incredible!" "but it is true. and really--except for himself--no great misfortune. a short time ago, at night, i helped a young moorish prisoner to escape. i could not foresee that he would use the horse in doing so. but afterwards i rejoiced over it, very, very deeply. early this morning, a moor, not the fugitive, brought the stallion into my courtyard. the lad i had saved was sersaon, cabaon's famous grandson. cabaon, in his gratitude, sent me the magnificent horse." "but must not you return him to modigisel?" "perhaps so. on no account--never, never--would i have kept the animal. i would rather have the devil in my stable; i would rather ride the steed of hell!" "why?" "why? why? you ask why?" cried thrasaric, joyously. "then you do not know?" "if i knew, i would not ask," said hilda, calmly. but she was startled by the effect of these words; the gigantic man threw himself on his knees before her, pressing her hands till she could almost have screamed with pain, as he cried: "that is glorious, that is divine!" but the next instant he sprang up again, saying mournfully, "alas! this is even worse. now i must tell her myself. forgive me. no, i am not mad. just wait. it is coming.--so i ordered the horse to be led at once to modigisel. the slave returned immediately with the message that modigisel was dead." "then it is true? the day before yesterday in perfect health! how is it possible?" "astarte, of course. you know nothing about such creatures. his freedwoman and friend; she lived in the next house. it is very strange. the slaves say that after--after returning from the grove of the holy virgin," he stammered the words with downcast eyes, "modigisel and astarte had a violent quarrel. that is, she did not make an outcry--she said very little; but she demanded for the thousandth time her complete freedom. modigisel had reserved numerous rights. he refused, shouted, and raged; he is said to have beaten her. but yesterday they made friends again. astarte and the gundings dined with him. after the banquet they strolled about the garden. before their eyes astarte broke four peaches from a tree. she and the two gundings ate three of them; modigisel the fourth. and, after eating it, he dropped dead at astarte's feet." "horrible! poison?" "who dares to say so? the peach grew on the same tree with the others. the gundings bear witness to it; they do not lie. and the carthaginian is impenetrably calm, even now." "you have seen her, have talked with her?" the powerful warrior flushed crimson: "she came to my house at once, from the dead man. but i--well--she went away again very soon. she was hastening to take possession of the villa at decimum, which modigisel bequeathed to her long ago." "what a woman!" "nay, no woman,--a monster, but a beautiful one. so the horse remained in my possession. but i--will not keep the animal. then i thought that of all the women of our nation you are the most glorious--i mean, the best rider. and i believe war will soon break out, and, from what i know of you, i believe that nothing will prevent you from going with gibamund to the field." "there you are right," laughed hilda, with sparkling eyes. "then i begged gibamund--and so the stallion is yours, do you see? he is just being led into the courtyard." "a magnificent creature indeed! i thank you." "so that is the story of the horse." he spoke very sorrowfully, for he did not know what to say next. hilda came to his assistance. "and your brother?" she asked. "unhappily he has disappeared. i have searched for him everywhere--in his own villas and mine. there was not a trace. the body of the beautiful ionian who--died that night, could not be found either. there was no sign of it in the city or country. it is possible that he left carthage by ship. so many have gone out of the harbor during these last few days, even--" he suddenly turned pale--"even bound for sicily." "yes," said hilda, carelessly, glancing out of the window. "the horse is a splendid animal." "she is changing the subject," thought thrasaric. "then it is so." "several sailed also for syracuse," he went on, watching her intently. the princess leaned from the casement. "only one, so far as i know," she replied indifferently. "then it is true," cried the vandal, suddenly, in despair. "she has gone. she has gone to her father in syracuse. she has deserted me forever! o eugenia! eugenia!" pressing his arm against the window-frame in bitter anguish, he laid his face on it. so he did not see how violently the curtains at the door of the next room swayed to and fro. "o princess," he cried, controlling himself, "it is only just. i ought not to blame you, i must praise you for having snatched her from my arms on that wild night. nor can i condemn her for casting me off. no, do not try to comfort me. i know i am not worthy of her. it is my own fault. yet not mine alone; the women--that is, the maidens of our nation--are also to blame. do you look at me in wonder? well, then, hilda, have you taken a single vandal girl to your heart as a friend? eugenia, the greek, the child of a plain citizen, is far more to you than the wives and daughters of our nobles. i will not say--far be it from me--that the vandal women are as corrupt and degenerate as, alas, most of us men. certainly not! but under this sky, in three generations, they, too, have deteriorated. gold, finery, luxury, and again gold, fill their souls. they long for wealth, for boundless pleasure, almost like the romans. their souls have grown feeble. no one understands or shares hilda's enthusiasm." "yes, they are vain and shallow," said the princess, sadly. "is it any wonder, then, that we men do not seek to wed these pretentious dolls? because i am rich, fathers and, still more, eager, anxious mothers, and even--well, i will not say it! in short, i might have married many dozen vandal girls, had i desired to do so. but i said, no. i loved no one of them. i cared only for this child, this little greek. her i love ardently, from the very depths of my soul, and faithfully too. for my whole life!" hilda's glance darted over him from her high seat to the swaying curtains. "and now--now, i love even more than ever the pearl i have lost. she honors the love she once felt for me by sparing the unworthy man. she has not told you the wrong i did her, the crime i committed. but--" he straightened himself to his full height, his manly, handsome countenance illumined by the loftiest feeling--"i have imposed it upon myself as a penance, if she said nothing, to confess it to you with my own lips. write and tell her so; perhaps then she will think of me more kindly. it is the heaviest punishment to tell you; for, princess hilda, i revere you as i would a goddess, aye, the protecting goddess of our people. the thought that you will now despise me is like death. but you shall know! i have--so i am told; i do not know, but it is doubtless true--i have eugenia--i did it while intoxicated, after drinking an ocean of wine--but i did it! and i am not worthy ever to see her again. i have--" "not you, my beloved, it was the wine," cried an exultant voice, and a slender figure clung passionately yet shyly to his broad breast, and, while ardently embracing him with her right arm, she laid the little fingers of her left hand upon his mouth to stay his words. "eugenia!" exclaimed the giant, flushing crimson. "you heard me? you can forgive? you still love me?" "unto death! unto the grave! no, beyond death. i would seek you in the grave if i lost you! with you, in life and in death! for i love you!" "and that is eternal," said hilda, passing her hand lightly over the young wife's hair. then she floated out of the room, leaving the happy lovers alone with their joy. _book two_ in the war chapter i procopius of cÆsarea to cornelius cethegus cÆsarius: there is no longer either sense or reason in concealing my name; the bird would still be recognized by its song. and now i am almost certain that these sheets will not be seized in constantinople; for we shall soon be swimming on the blue waves. so it is war with the vandals! the empress has accomplished her design. she treated her husband, after he hesitated, very coldly, even insolently. that is always effectual. what motive urged and still impels her to this war, hell knows certainly, heaven vaguely, and i not at all. perhaps the blood of the heretics must again wash away a few spores of her sins. or she expects to gain the treasures brought to the capitol in carthage from every land by genseric's corsair ships,--the riches of the temple of jerusalem are among them. in short, she wanted war, and we have it. a devout bishop from an asiatic frontier city--his name is agathos--came to constantinople. the empress summoned him to a private audience. i heard it from antonina, the wife of belisarius, who was the only person present. theodora showed him a letter which he had written to the persian king. the bishop fell prostrate on the floor with fright. she pushed him with the tip of her golden slipper. "rise, o agathos, man of god," she said, "and dream to-night of what i now say to you. if you do not tell this dream to the emperor, before tomorrow noon i will give him this letter to-morrow afternoon, and before to-morrow evening, o most holy man, you will be beheaded." the bishop went out and dreamed as he had been commanded--probably without sleeping. before the early bath on the following day he sought justinian, and, in the utmost excitement,--which was not feigned,--told him that christ had appeared to him the night before in a dream and said: "go to the emperor, o agathos, and rebuke him for having faint-heartedly given up the plan of avenging me upon these heretics. tell him: thus saith christ the lord: 'march forth, justinian, and fear not. for i, the lord, will aid thee in battle, and will force africa and its treasures beneath thy rule.'" then justinian was no longer to be restrained. war was determined. the opposing prefect was thrown into prison. belisarius was made commander-in-chief. the priests proclaimed the pious bishop's dream from the pulpits of all the basilicas. the soldiers were ordered by hundreds to the churches, where courage was preached to them. court officials told the dream in the streets, in the harbor, and on the ships. by the command of the empress, megas, her handsomest court poet, put it into greek and latin verses. they are astonishingly bad, worse than even our megas usually writes; but they are easy to learn, so by day and night soldiers and sailors sing them in the streets and the wine-shops, as children sing in the dark to keep their courage up; for our heroes really do not yet feel very anxious to make the holy voyage to carthage. so we shout incessantly,-- "christus came to the holy bishop; christus warned justinian: 'avenge christus, justinianus, on the wicked arian. christus himself will slay the vandals, africa give to thy hand!'" the poem has two merits: first, it can be repeated as often as you please; secondly, it makes no difference with which verse you begin. the empress says--and of course she must know--that the holy ghost inspired megas. we are working night and day. the shaggy little nags of the huns are neighing in the streets of constantinople. among these troops are six hundred excellent mounted archers, commanded by the hunnish chiefs, aigan and bleda, ellak and bala. there are also six hundred herulians, led by fara, a prince of that people. they are germans in justinian's pay; for "only diamond cuts diamond," narses says: "always germans against germans is our favorite old game." strong bands of other barbarians march also through our streets: isaurians, armenians, and others, under their own leaders. we call them our allies; that is, we "give" them money or grain, for which they pay with the blood of their sons. among the nations of our own empire, the thracians and illyrians are the best soldiers. in the harbor the ships are rocking, impatiently tugging at their anchors in the east wind, their eager prows turned toward the west. the army is gradually being placed on board of the fleet: eleven thousand foot, five thousand horse, upon five hundred keels, with twenty thousand sailors. among them, as the best war-ships, are one hundred and two swift-sailing galleys manned by two thousand rowers from constantinople; the other sailors are egyptians, ionians, and cilicians. the whole array presents a beautiful warlike spectacle which i would rather gaze at than describe; but the most glorious part of it is the hero belisarius, surrounded by his bodyguard, the shield and lance bearers, battle-tried men, selected from all the nations of the earth. * * * * * already half the voyage lies behind us. i am writing these lines to you in the harbor of syracuse. hitherto everything has been wonderfully successful; the goddess tyche, whom you latins call fortuna, is certainly blowing our sails. the embarkation was completed by the end of june. then the general's ship, which was to convey belisarius, was summoned to the shore in front of the imperial palace. archbishop epiphanius of constantinople appeared on board; an arian whom he had just baptized into the catholic faith was brought on deck as the last man; then he blessed the ship, belisarius, and all the rest of us, including the pagan huns, went down into his boat again, and, amid the exulting shouts of thousands, led the way, in advance of the general's vessel, for the whole fleet. we are very pious people, all of us whom the empress and the dutifully dreaming bishop and justinian send forth to extirpate the heretics. it is a holy war--we are fighting for the christus. we have said it so often that we now believe it ourselves. our course led past perinthus--it is now called heraclea--to abydos. there some drunken huns began to fight among themselves, and two of them killed a third. belisarius instantly ordered both to be hung on a hill above the city. the huns, especially the kinsmen of the two who were executed, made a great outcry: according to their law murder is not punished with death. i suppose the justice of the huns permits the heirs of the murdered man to carouse with the murderers at their expense till they all lie senseless on the ground together. and when they wake, they kiss each other, and all is forgotten; for the huns are worse drinkers than the germans--and that is saying a great deal. their pay contract only requires them to fight for the emperor; he is not permitted to deal with them according to the roman law. belisarius assembled the huns under the gallows from which the two were dangling, surrounded them with his most loyal men, and roared at them like a lion. i don't believe they understood his latin, or rather mine, for i taught him the speech; but he pointed often enough to the men on the gallows: they understood that. and now they obey like lambs. the voyage continued past sigeum, tænarum, metone, where many of our men died, for the commissary at constantinople, instead of baking the soldiers' bread twice, had lowered it, as raw dough, into the public baths (how appetizing! but, to be sure, it cost nothing); and when it was completely saturated with water, had it browned quickly on the outside upon red-hot plates. so it weighed much heavier (the emperor pays for it by weight), and he gained several ounces in every pound. but it gently melted into most evil-smelling mush, and five hundred of our men died from it. the emperor was informed; but theodora interceded for the poor commissary (he is said to have paid one-tenth of his profits for her christian mediation), and the man received only a reprimand, so we heard later. from metone we went past zacynthos to sicily, where, at the end of sixteen days, we dropped anchor in an old roadstead, now unused,--the place is called caucana,--opposite mount Ætna. now heavy thoughts assailed the hero belisiarius. he so thirsts for battle that he dashes blindly wherever a foe is pointed out. yet anxiety is increasing. not one of the numerous spies who were sent from constantinople to carthage long before our departure has returned--neither to constantinople, nor to any of the stopping-places on our route that were assigned to them. so the general knows as much about the vandals as he does of the people in the moon. what kind of people they are, their method of warfare, how he is to reach them--he has no idea. besides the soldiers have fallen back into their old fear of genseric's fleet, and there is no empress on board who might order some one to dream again. the limping trochees of the court poet are rarely sung; the men have grown disgusted with the verses; if any one strikes up the air half unwillingly, two others instantly drown his voice. only the huns and the herulians--to the disgrace of the romans, be it said--refrain from open lamentations; they remain sullenly silent. but our warriors, the romans, do not shrink from loudly exclaiming that they would fight bravely enough on land, they are used to it; but if the enemy should assail them on the open sea, they would force the sailors to make off with sails and oars as fast as possible. they could not fight germans, waves, and wind, all at the same time, upon rocking ships, and it was not in their contract for military service. belisarius, however, feels most disturbed by his uncertainty concerning the plans of the enemy. where is this universally dreaded fleet hiding? it is becoming mysterious now that we see and hear nothing of it. is it lying concealed behind one of the neighboring islands? or is it lurking, on the watch for us, upon the coast of africa? where and when shall we land? i said yesterday that he ought to have considered this somewhat earlier. but he muttered something in his beard, and begged me to atone for his errors to the best of my ability. i must go to syracuse and, on the pretext of buying provisions from your ostrogoth counts, inquire everything about these vandals, of whom he is ignorant and yet ought to know. so i have been here in syracuse since yesterday, asking everybody about the vandals, and they all laugh at me, saying: "why, if belisarius does not know, how should we? we are not at war with them." it seems to me that the insolent fellows are right. chapter ii triumph, o cethegus! belisarius's former good fortune is fluttering over the pennons at our mast-heads: the gods themselves are blinding the vandals; they are depriving them of their reason, consequently they must desire their destruction. hermes is breaking the path for us, removing danger and obstacles from our way. the vandal fleet, the bugbear of our valiant warriors, is floating harmless away from carthage toward the north; while we, with all sails set--the east wind is filling them merrily--are flying from sicily over the blue flood westward to carthage. we cut the rippling waves as if on a festal excursion. no foe, no spy, far or near, to oppose us or give warning of our approach to the threatened vandals, on whom we shall fall like a meteor crashing from a clear sky. that all this has come to the general's knowledge, and that he can make instant use of it, is due to procopius, or--to speak more honestly--to blind chance, the capricious goddess tyche. it seems to me, though i am no philosopher, that she rather than nemesis guides the destinies of nations. i wrote last that i was running about the streets of syracuse, somewhat helplessly, not without being laughed at by the mockers, asking all the people whether no vandals had been seen. one--this time it was a gothic count named totila, as handsome as he was insolent--had just answered, laughing and shrugging his shoulders: "seek your enemies yourselves. i would far rather go with the vandals to find and sink you." i was thinking how correctly this young barbarian had perceived the advantage of his people and the folly of his regent, when, vexed with the goths, with myself, and most of all with belisarius, i turned a street corner and almost ran against some one coming from the opposite direction. it was hegelochus, my schoolmate from cæsarea, who, i knew, had settled as a merchant, a speculator in grain, somewhere in sicily, but i was ignorant in which city. "what are you doing here?" he asked, after the first exchange of greetings. "i?--i am only looking for a trifle," i answered rather irritably, for i already heard in imagination his jeering laugh. "i am searching everywhere for a hundred and fifty to two hundred vandal war-ships. do you happen to know where they are?" "certainly i do," he replied, without laughing. "they are lying in the harbor of caralis in sardinia." "omniscient grain-dealer," i cried, rigid with amazement, "where did you learn that?" "in carthage, which i left only three days ago," he said quietly. then the questioning began. and often as i squeezed the shrewd, sensible man like a sponge, a stream of news most important for us flowed out. so we have nothing to fear for our fleet from the vandal war vessels. the barbarians as yet have no suspicion that we are advancing upon them. the flower of their army has gone on the dreaded galleys to sardinia. gelimer feels no anxiety for carthage, or any other city on the coast. he is in hermione, in the province of byzacena, four days' journey from the sea. what can he be doing there, on the edge of the desert? we are, therefore, safe from every peril, and can land in africa wherever wind, waves, and our own will may guide us. during this conversation, and while i was constantly questioning him, i had wound my arm around my friend's neck, and now asked him to come to the harbor with me and look at my ship, which lay at anchor there. it was a very swift sailer of a new model. the merchant agreed. as soon as i had him safely on board, i drew my sword, cut the rope which moored us to the metal ring of the harbor mole, and ordered my sailors to take us swiftly to caucana. hegelochus was startled; he scolded and threatened. but i soothed him, saying: "forgive this abduction, my friend; it is absolutely necessary that belisarius himself, not merely his legal adviser, should talk with and question you. he alone knows everything that is at stake. and i will not undertake the responsibility of having failed to inquire about some important point or of having misunderstood some answer. some god who is angered against the vandals has sent you to me; woe betide me if i do not profit by it. you must tell the general everything you have learned; you must accompany our ships, nay, guide them to africa. this one involuntary voyage to carthage will bring you richer profits from the royal treasures of the vandals than sailing to and fro with wheat many hundred times. and the reward awaiting you in heaven for your participation in the destruction of the heretics--i will not estimate." he grinned, calmed down, then laughed. but the hero belisarius smiled far more joyously when he saw before him the man "just from carthage," and could question him to his heart's content. how he praised me for the accident of this meeting! the command to sail was given with the blast of the tuba. how the sails flew aloft! how proudly our galleys swept forward! woe to thee, vandalia! woe to the lofty towers of genseric's citadel! * * * * * the swift voyage continued past the islands of gaulos and melita, which divide the adriatic from the tyrrhenian sea. at melita the wind, as if ordered by belisarius, grew still fresher,--a strong east-southeast gale which, on the following day, drove us upon the african coast at caput vada, five days' march from carthage. that is, for a swift walker without baggage; we shall probably require a much longer time. belisarius ordered the sails to be lowered, the anchors dropped, and summoned all the leaders of the troops to a council of war on his own ship. it was now to be decided whether we should disembark the troops and march against carthage by land, or keep them on the fleet and conquer the capital from the sea. opinions were very conflicting. * * * * * the decision has been reached; we shall march against carthage by land. true, archelaus, the quæstor, protested, saying that we had no harbor for the ships without men, no fortress for the men without ships. every storm might scatter them upon the open sea, or hurl them against the cliffs along the shore. he also called attention to the lack of water along the coast region, and the want of means to supply food. "only let no one ask me, as quæstor, for anything to eat," he cried angrily. "a quæstor who has only the office, but no bread, cannot satisfy you with his position." he advised hastening by sea to carthage, to occupy the harbor of stagnum, which could hold the entire fleet, and was at that time entirely undefended; thence to rush from the ships upon the city, which could be taken at the first attack, if the king and his army were really four days' march from the coast. but belisarius said: "god has fulfilled our most ardent desire; he has permitted us to reach africa without encountering the hostile fleet. shall we now remain at sea, and perhaps yet meet those ships before which our men threaten to fly? as for the danger of tempests, it would be better to have the galleys lost when they are empty, than while filled with our troops. we have still the advantage of surprising the unprepared foe; every delay will enable them to make ready to meet us. here we can land without fighting; elsewhere and later we must perhaps battle against the wind and the enemy. so i say, we will land here. walls and ditches around the camp will supply the place of a fortress. and have no anxiety about stores: if we defeat the foe, we shall also capture his provisions." thus spoke belisarius. i thought that, as usual, his reasoning was weak, but his courage strong. the truth is, he always chooses the shortest way to the battle. the council of war closed. belisarius's will was carried out. we brought the horses, weapons, baggage, and implements of war to land. about fourteen thousand soldiers and nineteen thousand sailors began to shovel, to dig, to drive stakes into the hot, dry sand; the general not only threw out the first spadeful, but, working uninterruptedly, the last. his perspiration abundantly bedewed the soil of africa, and the men were so spurred by his example that they vied with each other valiantly. before night closed in, the ditch, the wall, and the palisade were completed around the entire camp. only one-fifth of the archers spent the night on the ships. so far all was well. our galleys still contained an ample store of provisions, thanks to the hospitality of the ostrogoths in sicily. these simpletons, by the learned regent's command, almost gave us everything an army needs for man and horse (the troublesome totila, who is no well-wisher of ours, was instantly recalled). in reply to our amazed questions, they answered, by the learned cassiodorus's instructions: "you will pay us by avenging us upon the vandals." well, justinian will reward them. i wonder if the scholar knows the fable of how the horse, because he hated the stag, carried the man upon his back and hunted the stag to death? the free animal had taken the man on his back for this ride only, but never again was he rid of his captor. but the water is giving out. what we have with us is scanty, foul, and putrid; and to march for days under the african sun with no water for men and beasts--how will it end? * * * * * i shall really soon believe that we are god's chosen favorites--we, the chaste-hearted warriors of justinian the truthful and theodora! or have the vandals and their king called down upon themselves the wrath of heaven so heavily that miracles continually happen against these barbarians and in our favor? yesterday evening we all, from the general to the camel, were in sore anxiety about water. to-day the slave agnellus--he is a countryman of yours, o cethegus, and the son of a fisherman from stabiæ--brought to my tent whole amphoræ of the most delicious spring water, not only for drinking, but amply sufficient for bathing. with the last strokes of the spade our herulians opened a large bubbling spring on the eastern edge of the camp--an unprecedented thing in the byzacena province, between the sea and the "desert,"--so the people here call all the country southwest of the great road along which we are marching, and surely quite unjustly, for some of it is very fertile; yet it is old desert ground and often merges imperceptibly into the real wilderness. at any rate, this spring gushed forth for us from the surrounding dry sand. the stream of water is so abundant that men and animals can drink, boil, and bathe, pour out the foul water from the ships, and replace it with the best. i hastened to belisarius and congratulated him, not only because of the actual usefulness of this discovery, but because it is an omen of victory. "water gushes out of the wilderness for you. general," i exclaimed. "that means an effortless victory. you are the favorite of heaven." he smiled. we always like to hear such things. * * * * * belisarius commissioned me to compose an order to be read aloud at the departure of each body of troops. a few dozen of our precious huns dashed out into the country and seized some of the harvests just ripening in the fields, over which they became involved in a discussion with the roman colonists. as the huns, unfortunately, speak their latin only with leather whips and lance-thrusts, there were several dead men after the conference,--of course only on the side of the wicked peasants, who would not let the horses of the huns eat their fill of their best grain. our beloved huns cut off the heads of the men whom they had thus happily liberated from the vandal yoke, hung them to their saddles, and brought them to the general for a dessert. belisarius foamed with rage. he often foams; and when belisarius lightens, procopius must usually thunder. so it was now. so i wrote a proclamation that we were the saviors, liberators, and benefactors of the provincials, and therefore would neither consider their best grain-fields as litter for our horses nor play ball with their heads. "in this case," i wrote convincingly, "such conduct is not only criminal, but extremely stupid. our little body of troops could venture to land only because we expect that the inhabitants of the provinces will be hostile to the vandals and helpful to us." but i appealed to our heroes still more impressively, addressing not their honor or their conscience, but their stomachs! "if ye die of hunger, o admirable men," i wrote, "the peasants will bring us nothing to eat. if ye kill them, the dead will sell you nothing more and the living almost less. you will drive the provincials to be the allies of the vandals--to say nothing of god and his opinion of you, which is already somewhat clouded. so spare the people, at least for the present, or they will discover too early that belisarius's huns are worse than gelimer's vandals. when the emperor's tax-officers once rule the land, then, dear descendants of attila, you will no longer need to impose any constraint upon yourselves; then the 'liberated' will have already learned to estimate their freedom. you cannot go as far as justinian's tax-collectors, beloved huns and robbers." the proclamation was of that purport, only dressed in somewhat fairer words. we are marching forward. no sign of the barbarians. where are they hiding? where is this king of the vandals dreaming? if he does not wake soon, he will find himself without a kingdom. * * * * * we were still marching on. one piece of good fortune follows another. a day's march westward from our landing place at caput vada on the road to carthage near the sea, is the city of syllektum. the ancient walls, it is true, had been torn down since the reign of genseric, but the inhabitants, to repel the attacks of the moors, had again put nearly the whole city in a state of defence. belisarius sent borais, one of his bodyguard, with several shield-bearers, to venture a reconnoissance. it was entirely successful. after nightfall the men stole to the entrances (they could not be called gates, only openings of streets), but found them barricaded and guarded. they spent the night quietly in the ditch of the old fortifications, for there might still be vandals in the city. in the morning peasants from the surrounding country came driving up in carts with racks: it was market day. our men threatened the terrified rustics with death if they uttered a word, and forced the drivers to conceal them under the tilts. the watchmen of syllektum removed the barricades to admit the wagons. then our soldiers jumped down, took possession of the city without a sword-stroke. there was not a vandal in it. we occupied the curia and the forum; we summoned the catholic bishop and the noblest inhabitants of syllektum,--they are remarkably stupid people,--and told them that they were now free; happy also, for they were the subjects of justinian. at the same time, with swords drawn, our men asked for breakfast. the senators of syllektum gave borais the keys of their city, but unfortunately the gates for them were missing; the vandals or moors had burned them long ago. the bishop entertained them in the porch of the basilica. borais said the wine was very good. at the end of the repast, the bishop blessed borais, and asked him to restore the true, pure faith quickly. the warrior, a hun, is unfortunately a pagan; so he had little comprehension of what was expected of him. but he repeated to me several times that the wine was excellent. so we have already saved one city in africa. in the evening we all marched through. belisarius enjoined the most rigid discipline. unfortunately, a large number of houses burst into flames. * * * * * beyond syllektum we again made a lucky capture. the chief official of the whole vandal mail service, a roman, had been sent out from carthage by the king several days before with all his horses, numerous wagons, and many slaves, to carry the sovereign's commands in all directions through his empire. on his way to the east he had heard of our landing, and he sought us out with everything he still had in his possession. all the letters, all the secret messages of the vandals, are in the hands of belisarius--a whole basket of them, which i must read. it really seems as if an angel of the lord had led us into the writing-room and the council hall of the asdings. verus, the archdeacon of the arians, dictated most of the letters. but we were thoroughly deceived in this priest. theodora believed him to be her tool, yet he has become gelimer's chancellor. strange that these secrets were intrusted to a roman for conveyance and protection, not to a vandal. besides, must not verus have known how near we were, when he sent the papers, unguarded, directly to us. true, the most important thing for us to know,--namely, where the king and his army are at present,--does not appear in these letters, which were written a week ago. yet we learn from them at last what induced him to remain so far from carthage and the coast, on the edge of the desert and within it. he has made contracts with many moorish tribes, and been promised thousands of foot-soldiers--almost equal in number to our whole army. these moorish auxiliaries are gathering in numidia, in the plain of bulla. that is far, far west of carthage, near the border of the wilderness. could the vandal intend to abandon his capital and all the tract of country for such a distance, without striking a single blow, and await us there, at bulla? belisarius--what a trick of chance!--is now sending to gelimer by the vandal mail system justinian's declaration of war, and despatching in every direction to the vandal nobles, army leaders, and officials an invitation to abandon gelimer. the summons is well worded (i composed it myself): "i am not waging war with the vandals, nor do i break the compact of perpetual peace concluded with genseric. we desire only to overthrow your tyrant, who has broken the law and imprisoned your rightful king. therefore help us! shake off the yoke of such shameless despotism, that you may enjoy liberty and the prosperity we are bringing you. we call upon god to witness our sincerity." postscript, added after the close of the war: "strange, yet it is certainly noble. this appeal did not win a single vandal to our side during the entire campaign. these germans have become enfeebled. but there was not even _one_ traitor among them!" chapter iii many days' march westward from the road which the byzantines were following toward carthage, and a considerable distance south of mount auras, the extreme limit of the vandal kingdom in africa, lay a small oasis. it was within the sandy desert which extended southward into the unknown interior of the hot portion of the globe. a spring of drinkable water, a few date-palms in the circle around it, and, beneath their shade, a patch of turf of salt grass, affording sufficient fodder for the camels--that was all. the ground in the neighborhood was flat, except that here and there rose waves of the yellow, loose, hot sand swept together by the wind. nowhere appeared shrub, bush, or hillock; as far as the eye could rove in the brightest light of day, it found no resting-place till, wearied by the quest, it sought some point close at hand. but it was night now, and wonderfully, indescribably magnificent was the silent solitude. over the whole expanse of the heavens the stars were glittering in countless multitudes with a brilliancy which they show only to the sons of the desert. it is easy to understand that deity first appeared to the moors in the form of the stars. in them they worshipped the radiant, beneficent forces which contrasted benignly with the desert's scorching heat, the desert's storms. from the course, position, and shining of the stars, they augured the will of the gods and their own future. around the spring were pitched the low goatskin tents of the nomad moors, only half a dozen of them, for the whole tribe had not gathered. the faithful camels, carefully tethered by the feet among the tent ropes, and covered with blankets to protect them from the stings of the flies, were lying in the deep sand with their long necks outstretched. in the centre of the little encampment were the noble racers, the battle stallions, and the brood mares, confined in a circle made with ropes and lances thrust into the sand. on the round top of one of the tents towered a long spear, from whose point hung a lion's skin; for this was the shelter of the chief. the night wind, which blew refreshingly from the distant sea in the northeast, played with the mane of the dead king of the wilderness, sometimes tossing the skin of the huge paw, sometimes the tuft of hair at the end of the tail. fantastic shadows fell on the light sandy soil; for though the moon was not in the sky, the stars shone bright. a deep, solemn stillness reigned. every living creature seemed buried in sleep. four huge fires, one at each of the four points of the compass, were blazing, a bow-shot from the tents, to frighten the wild beasts from the flocks; from them arose at long intervals the only sound that broke the stillness; namely, the cry of some shepherd who thus kept himself awake and warned his companions to be watchful. this solemn silence continued for a long, long time. at last a couple of stallions neighed, a weapon clanked outside from the direction of the fires, and directly thereafter a light, almost inaudible footstep came toward the centre of the camp,--toward the "lion tent." suddenly it paused; a slender young man stooped to the ground before the entrance. "what? are you lying in front of the tent, grandfather?" he asked in astonishment. "are you asleep?" "i was watching," a low voice answered. "i should have ventured to rouse you. there is a fateful star in the heavens. i saw it appear when i was keeping the eastern fire-watch. as soon as i was relieved, i hastened to you. the gods are sending a warning! but youth does not understand their signs; you do, wise ancestor. look yonder, to the right--the right of the last palm. don't you see it?" "i saw it long ago. i have expected the sign for many nights, ay, for years." awe and a slight sense of fear thrilled the youth. "for years? you knew what would happen in the heavens? you are very wise, o cabaon." "not i. my grandfather told my father, and he repeated the marvel to me. it was more than a hundred years ago. the fair-faced strangers came from the north across the sea in many ships, led by that king of terrors with whose name our women still silence unruly children." "genseric!" said the youth, softly; his tone expressed both hate and horror. "at that time, from the same direction as the ships, a terrible star mounted into the heavens--blood-red, like a flaming scourge with many hundred thongs; it swung menacingly over our country and people. and my grandfather, after he had seen the terrible war-king in the harbor of tsocium, said to my father and to our tribe: 'unfasten the camels! bridle the noble racers, and set forth. go southward, into the scorching bosom of the protecting mother! this king of battles and his war-loving nation are what the terrible star announced. for many, many years, and tens of years, all who oppose them will be lost; the armies of rome and the galleys of constantinople will be swept away by these giants from the north, like the clouds which seek to oppose the star.' and so it came to pass. the sons of our tribe, though they would far rather have discharged their long arrows at the fair-haired giants, obeyed the old man's counsel, and we escaped into the sheltering desert. bonifacius, the roman general, fell. our ancestor had foretold it in the prophetic saying: 'g will destroy b. but,' he added, 'some day, after more than a hundred years, a star will rise in the east, and then b will overthrow g. other tribes of our race who, with the imperial troops, tried to resist the invaders, were mowed down like them by genseric, the son of darkness. and when they came howling to our tents, raising the death-wail, and summoned us to a war of vengeance, my grandfather and afterwards my father refused, saying: 'not yet! they cannot yet be conquered. more than two or three generations of men will pass, and no one will be able to stand before the giants from the north, neither the romans by sea, nor we sons of the desert. but the children of the north cannot remain permanently in the land of the sun! many of those who came to our native country to conquer and rule us, mightier warriors than we, have vanquished us, but not this land, this sun, these deserts. sand and sun and luxurious idleness have lessened the strength of the strangers' arms, the might of their will. so will also fare these tall, blue-eyed giants. the vigor will leave their bodies, and the lust for battle their souls. and then--then we will again wrest from them the heritage of our ancestors.' so it was predicted, so it has been. "for tens of years our archers, our spearmen could not withstand the fierce foes; then their strength decayed, and we often drove them back when they entered the sacred desert. when, some day, a star like this returns, my ancestor declared, the reign of the strangers will be over. take heed whence a scourge-like star comes again; for from that direction will come the foe that will hew down the yellow-haired men. the star to-night came from the east; and from the east will come the conquerors of genseric's people! "we have news that the emperor has made war upon the vandals, that his army has landed in the far east! but it does not agree--the other sign! g doubtless means gelimer, the fair-haired king. but the emperor of the romans is j, justinian. speak, have you chanced to hear the name of the roman. general?" "belisarius." the old man started up. "and b will overthrow g,--belisarius will vanquish gelimer! look, how blood-red the scourge-like star is shining! that means bloody battles. but we, son of my son, we will not interpose when roman sword and vandal spear are clashing against each other. the conflict may easily extend as far as the auras mountain; we will plunge deeper into the wilderness. let the aliens fight and destroy one another. the roman eagle, too, will not long have its eyrie here. the star of misfortune will rise for them as well as for these tall sea-kings. the intruders come--and pass away; we, the sons of the country, will remain. like the sand of our deserts we wander before the wind, but we shall not pass away; we always return. the land of the sun belongs to the sons of the sun. and, as the sand of the desert covers and buries the proud stone buildings of the romans, so shall we, ever returning, bury the alien life which forces itself into our country, where it can never thrive. we retire--but we return." "yet the fair king has obtained ten thousand of our men for the war. what must they do?" "give back the money; leave the vandal army, which the gods have abandoned! order my messengers to-morrow to dash with this command to every tribe where i rule--with this advice, where i can counsel." "your counsel is a command wherever the desert sand extends. only i grieve for the man with the mournful eyes. he has shown favor to many of our people, granted hospitality to many of our tribes; what return shall they make to their friend?" "hospitality unto death! not fight his battles, not share his booty; but if he comes to them seeking shelter and protection, divide the last date with him, shed the last drop of blood in his defence. up, strike the basin! we will depart ere the sun wakes. untether the camels!" the old man rose hastily. the youth dealt the copper kettle that hung beside the tent a blow with his curved scimetar. the brown-skinned men, women, and children were astir like a swarm of ants. when the sun rose above the horizon, the oasis was empty, desolate, silent as death. far in the south whirled upward a cloud of dust and sand which the north wind seemed to be driving farther and farther inland. chapter iv procopius to cethegus: we are still marching forward, and certainly as if we were in a friendly country. our heroes, even the huns, have understood, thanks less to my marching orders than to actual experience, that they cannot steal as many provisions as the people will voluntarily bring if they are to be paid instead of being robbed. belisarius is winning all the provincials by kindness. so the colonists flock from all directions to our camp and sell us everything we need, at low prices. when we are obliged to spend the night in the open fields we carefully fortify the camp. when it can be done we remain at night in cities, as, for instance, in leptis and hadrumetum. the bishop, with the catholic clergy, comes forth to meet us, as soon as our huns appear. the senators and the most aristocratic citizens soon follow. the latter willingly allow themselves to be "forced "; that is, they wait till we are in the forum, so, in case we should all be thrown by our undiscoverable foes into the sea before we reach carthage, they can attribute their friendliness to us to our cruel violence. with the exception of a few catholic priests i have not seen a roman in africa for whom i felt the slightest respect. i almost think that they, the liberated, are even less worthy than we, the liberators. we march on an average about ten miles daily. to-day we came from hadrumetum past horrea to grasse, about forty-four roman miles from carthage,--a magnificent place for a camp. our astonishment increases day by day, the more we learn of the riches of this african province. in truth, it may well be beyond human power to maintain one's native vigor beneath this sky, in this region. and grasse! here is a country villa--to speak more accurately, a proud pillared palace of the vandal king--gleaming with marble, surrounded by pleasure-gardens, whose like i have never seen in europe or asia. about it bubble delicious springs brought through pipes from a distance, or up through the sand by some magical discoverer of water. and what a multitude of trees! and not one among them whose boughs are not fairly bending under the burden of delicious fruit. our whole army is encamped in this fruit grove, beneath these trees; every soldier has eaten his fill and stuffed his leather pouch, for we shall march on early to-morrow morning; yet one can scarcely see a difference in the quantity. everywhere, too, are vines loaded with bunches of grapes. many, many centuries before a scipio entered this country, industrious ph[oe]nicians cultivated vines here, between the sea and the desert, training them on rows of stakes a few feet high. here grows the best wine in all africa; they say the vandals drink it unmixed, from their helmets. i only sipped the almost purple liquor, to which agnellus added half the quantity of water, yet i feel drowsy. i can write no more. good-night, cethegus, far away in rome! good-night, fellow-soldier! just half a cup more; it tastes so good. pleasant dreams! wine makes us good-natured, so pleasant dreams to you, too. barbarians! it is so comfortable here. the room assigned to me (the slaves, all romans and catholics, have not fled, and they serve us with the utmost zeal) is beautifully decorated with wall paintings. the bed is so soft and easy! a cool breeze from the sea is blowing through the open window. i will venture to take a quarter of a cup more; and to-night, dear barbarians, if possible, no attack. may you sleep well. vandals, so that i, too, can sleep sweetly! i almost believe the african sickness--dread of every exertion--has already seized upon me. * * * * * four days' march from the wonder-land of grasse. we are spending the night in the open country. to-morrow we shall reach decimum, less than nine roman miles from carthage, and not one vandal have we seen yet. it is late in the evening. our camp-fires are blazing for a long distance, a beautiful scene! there is something ominous in the soft, dark air. night is falling swiftly under the distant trees in the west. there is the blast of the shrill horns of our huns. i see their white sheepskin cloaks disappearing. they are mounting guard on all three sides. at the right, on the northeast, the sea and our ships protect us; that is, for to-day. to-morrow the galleys will not be able to accompany our march as they have done hitherto, on account of the cliffs of the promontory of mercury, which here extend far out from the shore. so belisarius ordered the quæstor archelaus, who commands the fleet, not to venture as for as carthage itself, but, after rounding the promontory, to cast anchor and wait further orders. so to-morrow we shall be obliged, for the first time, to advance without the protection of our faithful companions, the ships; and as the road to decimum is said to lead through dangerous defiles, belisarius has carefully planned the order of marching and sent it in writing this evening to all the leaders, to save time in the departure early in the morning. * * * * * the warlike notes of the tuba are rousing the sleepers. we are about to start. an eagle from the desert in the west is flying over our camp. it is reported that the first meeting with the enemy--only a few mounted men--took place during the night at our farthest western outpost. one of our huns fell, and the commander of one of their squadrons, bleda, is missing. probably it is merely one of the camp rumors which the impatience of expectation has already conjured up several times. to-night we shall reach decimum; to-morrow night the gates of carthage. but where are the vandals? chapter v when procopius wrote the last lines, those whom he was seeking were far nearer than he imagined. the first rays of the morning sun darted above the sea, glittered on the waves, and shone over the yellowish-brown sand of the edge of the desert, as a dozen vandal horsemen dashed into the king's camp a few leagues southwest of decimum. gibamund, the leader, and the boy ammata sprang from their horses. "what do ye bring?" shouted the guards. "victory," answered ammata. "and a captive," added gibamund. they hastened to rouse the king. but gelimer came in full armor out of his tent to meet them. "you are stained with blood--both. you, too, ammata; are you wounded?" his voice was tremulous with anxiety. "no," laughed the handsome boy, his eyes sparkling brightly. "it is the blood of the enemy." "the first that has been shed in this war," replied the king, gravely, "sullies your pure hand. oh, if i had not consented--" "it would have been unfortunate," gibamund interrupted. "our child has done well. go to the tent for hilda, my lad, while i deliver the report. so, chafing with impatience, we long endured your keeping us so far away from the foe; we have followed their march at a great distance, unsuspected even by their farthest outposts. when to-night you finally permitted us to ride nearer to their flank than usual, in order to discover whether they really intended to go to decimum to-day unprotected by the fleet, and to pass at noon through the narrow way, you said that if we could obtain a captive without causing much disturbance, it would be desirable. well, we have not only a prisoner, but more; we found an important strip of parchment on him. and it is fortunate; for the man refuses to give any information. see, they are bringing him yonder. there come thrasaric and eugenia; and ammata is already drawing hilda here by the hand." "welcome," cried the young wife, hastening toward her beloved husband, but she shrank in embarrassment from his embrace, for the captive was already standing before the king. with hands bound behind his back, he darted savage glances from beneath his bushy brows at the vandals, especially at ammata. blood trickled from his left cheek upon the white sheepskin that covered his shoulders; his lower garment also--it reached only to the knee--was of untanned leather; his feet were bare; a huge spur was buckled with a thong on his right heel, and four gold disks, bestowed by the emperor and his generals in honor of brave deeds (like our orders), were fastened on his heavy leather breastplate. "so," continued gibamund, "toward midnight, with only ten vandals and two moors behind us, we rode out of camp toward the distant light of the hostile campfires, cautiously concealing ourselves behind the long mounds of sand, stretching for half a league, which the desert wind is constantly heaping up and blowing away again, especially just on the edge of the wilderness. under the protection of this cover, we advanced unseen so far eastward that we saw by the glare of a watchfire--probably lighted to drive away the wild beasts--four horsemen. two sat crouching on their little nags, with their bows bent, gazing intently toward the southwest, whence we had come; the other two had dismounted and were leaning against the shoulders of their horses. the points of their lances glittered in the flickering light of the fire. "i motioned to the two moors, whom i had taken with us for this clever trick. slipping noiselessly from their steeds, they threw themselves flat on the ground and were scarcely distinguishable in the darkness from the surrounding sand. they crept on all fours in a wide circle, one to the left, the other to the right, around the fire and the sentinels, until they stood northeast and northwest of them. they had soon vanished from our sight, for they glided as swiftly as lizards. "soon we heard, on the other side of the watchfire, toward the north, the hoarse, menacing cry of the leopardess going out with her cubs on the nocturnal quest of prey. the mother was instantly answered by the beseeching cry of her young. the four horses of the sentinels shied, their manes bristled; the scream of the leopardess came nearer, and all four of the strangers--they had probably never heard such a sound--turned in the direction of the noise. one of the horses reared violently, the rider swayed, clinging to its mane; another, trying to help him, snatched at the bridle, his bow falling from his hand. profiting by the confusion of the moment, we glided forward in perfect silence from behind the sand-hill. we had wrapped cloth around the horses' hoofs, and almost reached them unseen; not until we were close by the fire did one of the mounted men discover us. 'foes!' he shouted, darting away. the other rider followed. the third did not reach the saddle; i struck him down as he was mounting. but the fourth--this man here, the leader--was on his horse's back in an instant; he ran down the two moors who tried to stop him, and would have escaped, but ammata--our child"--he pointed to the boy; the captive gnashed his teeth furiously--"shot after him like an arrow on his little white steed--" "pegasus!" ammata interrupted. "you know, brother, you brought him to me from the last moorish war. he really goes as though he had wings." "--reached him, and before any one of us could lend assistance, with a swift double thrust--" "you taught me, gelimer!" cried ammata, with sparkling eyes, for he could no longer restrain himself. "--of the short-sword, he thrust the enemy's long spear aside and dealt him a heavy blow on the cheek. but the brave fellow, heedless of the pain, dropped the spear and gripped the battle-axe in his belt. then our child threw the noose around his neck--" "you know--the antelope cast!" ammata exclaimed to gelimer. "and with a jerk dragged him from his horse." gibamund spoke in the vandal tongue, but the captive understood everything from the accompanying gestures, and now shrieked in the latin of the camp, "may my father's soul pass into a dog if that be not avenged! i, the great-grandson of attila--i--dragged from my horse by a boy--with a noose! beasts are caught thus, not warriors!" "calm yourself, my little friend," replied thrasaric, approaching him. "there is a good old motto among all the gothic nations: 'spare the wolf rather than the hun.' besides, that royal bird, the ostrich, is captured in the same way when he is overtaken. so it's no disgrace to you." laughing heartily, he straightened the heavy helmet with the bear's head. "we reached the two at once," gibamund continued, "bound the man, who fought like a wild boar, and snatched from his teeth this strip of parchment which he was trying to swallow." the prisoner groaned. "what is your name?" asked the king, glancing hastily at the parchment. "bleda." "how strong is your army in horsemen?" "go and count them." "friend hun," said thrasaric, in a threatening tone, "a king is speaking to you. behave civilly, little wolf. answer politely the questions you are asked, or--" the prisoner glanced defiantly toward gelimer, saying, "this gold disk was given to me by the great general with his own hands after our third victory over the persians. do you think i would betray belisarius?" "lead him away," said gelimer, waving his hand. "bind up his wound. treat him kindly." the hun cast another glance of mortal hate at ammata, then he followed his guards. gelimer again looked at the parchment. "i thank you, my boy," he said, "i thank you. you have indeed brought us no trivial thing, the order of the enemy's march to-day. follow me to my tent, my generals; there you shall hear my plan of attack. we need not wait for the arrival of the moors. i think, if the lord is not wrathful with us--but let us have no sinful arrogance--oh, ammata, how i rejoice to have you again alive! after your departure i had a terrible dream about you. god has restored you to me once--i will not tempt him a second time." going close to the boy and laying his hand on his shoulder, he said in his sternest tone: "listen; i forbid you to fight in the battle to-day." "what?" cried ammata, furiously, turning deadly pale. "that is impossible! gelimer, i beseech--" "silence," said the king, frowning, "and obey." "why," cried gibamund; "i should think you might let him go. he has shown--" "oh, brother, brother," exclaimed ammata, tears streaming from his eyes, "how have i deserved this punishment?" "is this his reward for to-night's deed?" warned thrasaric. "silence, all of you," gelimer commanded sternly. "it is decided. he shall _not_ fight with us. he is still a boy." ammata stamped his foot angrily. "and oh, my darling," gelimer added, clasping the vehemently resisting lad in his arms, "let me confess it. i love you so tenderly, with such undue affection, that anxiety for you would not leave me for a single instant during the battle, and i need all my thoughts for the foe." "then let me fight by your side; protect me yourself!" "i dare not. i dare not think of you. i must think of belisarius." "indeed, i pity him from my inmost soul," cried hilda, in passionate excitement. "i am a woman, and it is hard enough for me not to go with you: but a boy of fifteen!" eugenia timidly pulled her back by the robe, stroking and kissing her hand; but hilda, smoothing the boy's golden locks, went on: "it is a duty, it is a patriotic duty, that every man who can--especially a son of the royal house--should fight for his people. this lad can fight; he has proved it. so do not refuse him to his people. my ancestor taught me that only he who is to fall will fall." "sinful paganism!" exclaimed the king, wrathfully. "well, then, let me address you as a christian. is this your trust in god, gelimer? who in the two armies is as guiltless as this child? o king, i am less devout than you, but i have confidence enough in the god of heaven to believe that he will protect this boy in our just cause. ay, should this purest, fairest scion of the asding race fall, it would be like a judgment of god, proclaiming that we are indeed corrupt in his eyes!" "hold!" cried the king, in anguish. "do not probe the deepest wounds of my breast. if he _should_ fall now? if a judgment of god, as you called it, should so terribly overtake us? doubtless he is free from guilt as far as human beings can be. but have you forgotten the terrible words of menace--about the iniquity of the fathers? if i experienced _that_, i should see in it the curse of vengeance fulfilled, and i believe i should despair." he began to pace swiftly up and down. then gibamund whispered to his wife, who shook her proud head silently but wrathfully, "let him go. such anxiety in the brain of the commander-in-chief will do more harm than the spears of twenty boys can render service." "but arrows fly far," cried ammata, defiantly. "if, like a miserable coward, i remain behind your backs, i can fall here in the camp if the foes conquer. i certainly will not be taken captive," he added fiercely, seizing his dagger, and throwing back his head till his fair locks floated over his light-blue armor. "better put me in a church at once--but a catholic one; that would be a safe sanctuary, devout king." "yes, i _will_ lock you up, unruly boy," gelimer now said sharply. "for that insolent jeer, you will give up your weapons at once--at once. take them from him, thrasaric. you, thrasaric, will assail the foe in the front, from decimum. in decimum stands a catholic church; it will be inviolable to the byzantines. there you will keep imprisoned during the battle the boy who desires to be a soldier and has not yet learned to obey his king. in case of retreat, you will take him with you. and listen, thrasaric: that night--in the grove--you promised to atone for the past--" "i think he has done so," cried hilda, indignantly. "whose troops are the best drilled?" added gibamund. "who has lavished gold, weapons, horses, like him?" "my king," replied thrasaric, "hitherto i have done nothing. give me to-day an opportunity." "you must find it. i rely upon you. above all, that you will not impetuously attack too soon and spoil my whole plan. and this rebellious boy," he added tenderly, "i commend to your care. keep him out of the battle; bring him to me safe and unhurt after the victory, on which i confidently rely. i also commit to your charge all the prisoners, among them the hostages from carthage; for, in case of retreat, you will be at its goal--you will learn it at once, the first man; therefore the captives will be most securely guarded with you. i intrust to you ammata, the apple of my eye, because, well--because you are my brave, faithful thrasaric." he laid both hands on the giant's broad shoulders. "my king," replied the vandal, looking him steadfastly in the eyes, "you will see the prince again, living and unhurt, or you will never see thrasaric more." eugenia shuddered. "i thank you. now to my tent. vandal generals, to hear the plan of battle!" chapter vi procopius to cethegus: we are actually still alive, and we are spending the night in decimum, but we have had a narrow escape from passing it with the sharks at the bottom of the sea; never before, belisarius says, was annihilation so near him. this mysterious king brought us into the greatest peril by his admirable plan of attack. and when it had already succeeded, he alone, the king himself, cast away his own victory, and saved us from certain destruction. i will tell you briefly the course of recent events, partly from our own experiences, partly from what we have learned through the citizens of decimum and the vandal prisoners. the king, undiscovered by us, had accompanied our march from the time of our landing. the place where he suddenly attacked us had been wisely chosen long before. belisarius says that not even his great rival, narses, could have made a better plan of battle. as soon as we left our last camp outside of decimum, we lost, as i wrote in my former letter, the protection of our fleet. if a superior force assailed us here from the west, it would hurl us, not--as along the whole previous march--upon our sheltering galleys, but directly into the sea from the road running along the steep hills close to the coast. just before decimum this road narrows greatly; for lofty mountains tower at the southwest along the narrow highway. over the loose sand, heaped on the mountains by the desert winds, neither man nor horse can pass without sinking a foot deep. here, attacked from all three sides at the same moment, we were to be driven eastward into the sea at our right. a brother of the king, gibamund, was to rush with two thousand men from the west upon our left flank; a vandal noble with a still stronger force was to attack us from decimum in the front; the king, with the main body, was to fall upon us in the rear from the south. belisarius had carefully planned the order of our march through this dangerous portion of the way. he sent fara with his brave herulians and three hundred picked men of the bodyguard two and a half roman miles in advance. they were to pass through the narrow way first alone, and instantly report any danger back to the main body led by belisarius. on our left flank the hun horsemen and five thousand of the excellent thracian infantry under althias were thrown out to guard us from any peril threatening in that quarter and report it to belisarius, to prevent a surprise of the main body during the march. then, to our great good fortune, it happened that the attack from the north, from decimum, came far too early. prisoners say that a younger brother of the king, scarcely beyond boyhood, taking part in the battle against gelimer's orders, dashed out of decimum with a few horsemen upon our ranks as soon as he saw us. the noble wished to save him at any cost, so he also attacked with the small force at his disposal,--four hours too soon,--only sending messengers back to carthage to hasten the march of his main body. the youth and the noble made the most desperate resistance to the superior force. twelve of belisarius's bravest bodyguard, battle-tried men of former wars, were slain. at last both fell, and now, deprived of their leader, the vandals turned their horses, and, in a mad flight, ran down and overthrew those who were advancing from carthage to their support,--true, in little bands of thirty and forty men. fara with his swift herulians dashed after them in savage pursuit to the very gates of carthage, cutting down all whom he overtook. the vandals, who had fought bravely so long as they saw the asdings and the nobles in their van, now threw down their weapons and allowed themselves to be slaughtered. we found many thousand dead bodies on the road and in the fields to the left. after this first onset of the vandals had resulted in defeat, gibamund, knowing nothing of it, attacked with his troops the greatly superior force of the huns and thracians. this happened at the salt field,--a treeless, shrubless waste on the edge of the desert five thousand paces west of decimum. with no aid from carthage and decimum, he was completely routed; nearly all his men were slain; their leader was seen to fall, whether dead or living, no one knows. meanwhile, entirely ignorant of what had happened, we were marching with the main body along the road to decimum. as belisarius found an excellent camping-ground about four thousand paces from this place, he halted. that the enemy must be in the neighborhood he suspected; the disappearance of the two huns during the night had perplexed him. he established a well-fortified camp, and said to the troops, "the enemy must be close at hand. if he attacks us here, where we lack the support of the fleet, our escape will lie solely in victory. should we be defeated, there is no stronghold, no fortified city, to receive us; the sea, roaring below, will swallow us. the intrenched camp is our only protection, the camp and the long-tested swords in our hands. fight bravely! life, as well as fame, is at stake." he now ordered the infantry to remain in camp with the luggage as the last reserve, and led the whole force of cavalry out toward decimum. he would not risk everything at once, but intended first to discover the strength and plans of the barbarians by skirmishing. sending the auxiliary cavalry in the van, he followed with the other squadrons and his mounted bodyguard. when the advance body reached decimum, it found the byzantines and vandals who had fallen there. a few of the citizens who had hidden in the houses told our troops what had happened; most of them had fled to carthage on learning that their village had been chosen for the battleground. a wonderfully beautiful woman,--she looks like the sphinx at memphis,--the owner of the largest villa in decimum, voluntarily received our men. it was she who told us of the noble's death. he fell before her eyes, just in front of her house. the leaders now consulted, undecided whether to advance, halt, or return to belisarius. at last the whole body of cavalry rode about two thousand paces west of decimum, where they could obtain from the high sand-hills a wider view in every direction. there they saw rising in the south-southwest--that is, in the rear and on the left flank of belisarius--a huge cloud of dust, from which sometimes flashed the arms and banners of an immense body of horsemen. they instantly sent a message to belisarius that he must hasten; the enemy was at hand. meanwhile the barbarians, led by gelimer, approached. they were marching along a road between belisarius's main body in the east and the huns and thracians, our left wing, who had defeated gibamund and pursued him far to the west. but the high hills along the road obstructed gelimer's view, so that he could not see gibamund's battlefield. byzantines and vandals, as soon as they saw each other, struggled to be first to reach and occupy the summit of the highest hill in the chain which dominated the whole region. the barbarians gained the top, and from it king gelimer rushed down with such power upon our men, the auxiliary cavalry, that they were seized with panic, and fled in wild confusion eastward, toward decimum. about nine hundred paces west of the village the fugitives met their strong support, a body of eight hundred mounted shield-bearers, led by velox, belisarius's bodyguard. the general and all of us who had tremblingly witnessed the flight of the cavalry consoled ourselves with the hope that velox would check their flight and march back with them to the enemy. but--oh, shame and horror--the weight of the vandal onslaught was so tremendous that the fugitives and the shield-bearers did not even wait for it; the whole body, mingled together, swept back in disorder to belisarius. the general said that at this moment he gave us all up for lost: "gelimer," he said at the banquet that night, "had the victory in his hands. why he voluntarily let it escape is incomprehensible. had he followed the fugitives, he would have pursued me and my whole army into the sea, so great was the alarm of our troops and so tremendous the force of the vandal assault. then the camp and the infantry would both have been destroyed. or if he had even gone from decimum back to carthage, he could have destroyed without resistance fara and his men, for expecting no attack from the rear, they were scattered singly or in couples along the streets and in the fields, pillaging the slain. and once in possession of carthage he could easily have taken our ships, anchored near the city,--without crews,--and thus cut off from us every hope of victory or retreat." but king gelimer did neither. a sudden paralysis attacked the power which had just overthrown everything in its way. prisoners told us that, as he dashed down the hillside, spurring his cream-colored charger far in advance of all his men, he saw in the narrow pass at the southern entrance of decimum the corpse of his young brother lying first of all the bodies in the road. with a loud cry of anguish, he sprung from his horse, threw himself upon the lifeless boy, and thus checked the advance of his troops. their foremost horses, held back with difficulty by the riders that they might not trample on the king and the lad, reared, plunged, and kicked, throwing those behind into confusion, and stopped the whole chase. the king raised in his arms the mangled and bloody body (for our horsemen had dashed over it); then breaking again into cries of agony, he placed it on his charger and ordered it to be buried by the roadside with royal honors. the whole did not probably occupy fifteen minutes, but that quarter of an hour wrested from the barbarians the victory they had already won. meanwhile belisarius rushed to meet our fugitives, thundered at them in his resonant leonine voice his omnipotent "halt," showed them, lifting his helmet, his face flaming with a wrath which his warriors dreaded more than the spears of all the barbarians, brought the deeply shamed men to a stand, arranged them, amid terrible reproaches, in the best order possible in the haste, and, after learning all he could concerning the position and strength of the vandals, led them to the attack upon gelimer and his army. the vandals did not withstand it. the sudden, mysterious check of their advance had bewildered, perplexed, discouraged them; besides, their best strength had been exhausted in the furious ride. the sun of africa, burning fiercely down, had wearied us also, but at the first onset we broke through their ranks. they turned and fled. the king, who tried to check them, was swept away by the rush, not to carthage, not even southwest to byzacena, whence they had come, but towards the northwest along the road leading to numidia, to the plain of bulla. whether they took that course by the king's command or without it and against it, we do not yet know. we wrought great slaughter among the fugitives; the chase did not end until nightfall. when, as the darkness closed in, the torches and watchfires were lighted, fara and the herulians came from the north, althias with the huns and thracians from the west, and we all spent the night in decimum celebrating three victories in a single day: over the nobleman, over prince gibamund, and over the king. chapter vii the flying vandals, leaving carthage far on the right, had struck into the road which at decimum turns toward the northwest, leading to numidia. in this direction also the numerous women and children, who had left carthage many days before with the army, had gone from the camp on the morning of the day before, under safe escort, to the little village of castra vetera, half a day's march from the battlefield. here, about two hours before midnight, they met the fugitives from decimum; the pursuit had ceased with the closing in of darkness. the main body of troops lay around the hamlet in the open air; the few tents brought by the women from the other camp, and the huts in the village, were used to shelter the many wounded and the principal leaders of the army. in one of these tents, stretched on coverlets and pillows, was gibamund; hilda knelt beside him, putting a fresh bandage on his foot. as soon as she had finished, she turned to gundomar, who was sitting on the other side of the narrow space with his head propped on his hand. blood was trickling through his yellow locks. the princess carefully examined the wound, "it is not mortal," she said. "is the pain severe?" "only slight," replied the gunding, clenching his teeth. "where is the king?" "in the little chapel with verus. he is praying." the words fell harshly from her lips. "and my brother?" asked gundomar. "how is his shoulder?" "i cut the arrow-head out. he is doing well; he is in command of the guards. but the king, too, is wounded." "what?" asked both the men, in startled tones. "he said nothing of it." "he is ashamed--for his people. no foe; flying vandals whom he stopped and tried to turn hacked his arm with their daggers." "dogs," cried gundomar, grinding his teeth; but gibamund sighed. "gundobad, who witnessed it, told me; i examined the arm; there is no danger." "and eugenia?" he asked after a pause. "she is lying in the next house as if stupefied. when she heard of her husband's death, she cried: 'to him! into his grave! sigrun--' (i once told her the legend of helgi) and tried to rush madly away. but she sank fainting in my arms. even after she had recovered her senses, she lay on the couch as if utterly crushed. 'to him! sigrun--into his grave!--i am coming, thrasaric!' was all that she would answer to my questions. she tried to rise to obtain more news, but could not, and i sternly forbade her to attempt it again. i will tell her cautiously all that it is well for her to know--no more. but speak, gundomar, if you can; i know all the rest--except how ammata, how thrasaric--" "presently," said the gunding. "another drink of water. and your wound, gibamund?" "it is nothing," replied the prince, bitterly; "i did not reach the enemy at all. i sent messenger after messenger to thrasaric, as i did not receive the promised report that he was leaving decimum. not one returned; all fell into the hands of the foe. no message came from thrasaric. the time appointed by the king when i was to make the attack had arrived; in obedience to the order i set forth, though perfectly aware of the superior strength of the enemy, and though the main body of the troops under thrasaric had not come. when we were within an arrow-shot, the horsemen, the huns, dashed to the right and left, and we saw behind them the thracian infantry, seven ranks deep, who received us with a hail of arrows. they aimed at the horses; mine, the foremost, and all in the front rank instantly fell. your brave brother in the second rank, himself wounded by a shaft, lifted me with great difficulty on his own charger--i could not stand--and rescued me. the huns now bore down upon us from both flanks; the thracians pressed forward from the front with levelled spears. not a hundred of my two thousand men are still alive." he groaned in anguish. "but tell me how came ammata,--against gelimer's command, in spite of thrasaric's guard--?" asked hilda. "it happened in this way," said the gunding, pressing his hand to the aching wound in his head. "we had put the boy, unarmed, in the little catholic basilica at decimum, with the hostages from carthage, among them young publius pudentius." "hilderic and euages too?" "no. verus had them taken to the second camp near bulla. bleda, the captured hun, had been tied with a rope outside to the bronze rings of the church doors; he lay on the upper step. on the square, in front of the little church, were about twenty of our horsemen. many, by thrasaric's command,--he rode repeatedly across the square, gazing watchfully in every direction,--had dismounted. thrusting their spears into the sand beside their horses, they lay flat on the low roofs of the surrounding houses looking toward the southwest to see the advancing foe. i sat on horseback by the open window of the basilica. from the corner one can see straight to the entrance of the main road from decimum, where astarte's--formerly modigisel's--villa stands. so i heard every word that was spoken in the basilica. two boyish voices were disputing vehemently. "'what?' cried one. 'is this the loudly vaunted heroism of the vandals? you are placed here, ammata, in the asylum of the church of the much-tortured catholics? do you seek shelter here?' 'the order of the king,' replied ammata, choking with rage. 'ah,' sneered the other; it was pudentius--i now recognized the tones--'i would not be commanded to do that by king or emperor. i am chained hand and foot, or i would have been outside long ago, fighting with the romans.' 'the order of the king, i tell you.' 'order of cowardice. ha, if _i_ were a member of the royal house for whose throne men were fighting, nothing would keep me in a church, while--hark! that is the tuba. it is proclaiming a roman victory.' "i heard no more; the roman trumpets were blaring outside of decimum." just at that moment the folds of the tent were pushed softly apart. a pale face, two large dark eyes, gazed in, unseen by any one. "at the same instant," continued the gunding, "a figure sprang from the very high window of the basilica,--i don't yet understand how the boy climbed up to it,--ran past me, swung himself on the horse of one of our troopers, tore the spear from the ground beside it, and with the exulting shout, 'vandals! vandals!' dashed down the street to meet the byzantines. "'ammata! ammata! halt!' thrasaric called after him. but he was already far away. 'follow him! gundomar! follow him! save the boy!' cried thrasaric, rushing past me. "i followed; our men--a slender little band--did the same. 'too soon! much too soon!' i exclaimed, as i overtook thrasaric. "'the king commanded me to protect the lad!' "it was impossible to stop him; i followed. we had already reached the narrow southern entrance of decimum. on the right was astarte's villa, on the left the high stone wall of a granary. ammata, without helmet, breastplate, or shield, with only the spear in his hand, was facing a whole troop of mounted lancers, who stared in amazement at the mad boy. "'back, ammata! fly, i will cover the entrance here,' shouted thrasaric. "'i will not fly! i am a grandson of genseric,' was the lad's answer. "'then we will die here together. here is my shield.' "it was high time. already the lances of the byzantines were hurtling at us. our three horses fell. we all sprang up unhurt. a spear struck the shield which thrasaric had forced upon the boy, penetrating the hammer on it. a dozen of our men had now reached us. six sprang from their horses, levelling their lances. we were enough to block the narrow entrance. the byzantines dashed upon us; only three horses could come abreast. we three killed two horses and one man. our foes were obliged to remove the dead animals, our three and the fourth, to gain space. while doing this ammata sprang forward and struck down another byzantine. as he leaped back an arrow grazed his neck; the blood burst forth; the boy laughed. again the foes dashed forward. again two fell. but ammata was obliged to drop the hammer shield, there were now so many spears sticking in it, and thrasaric received a lance-thrust in his shieldless left arm. behind the byzantines we now heard german horns; the sound was like the blast announcing the approach of our vandal horsemen. 'gibamund, or the king!' our men shouted. 'we are saved.' "but we were lost. they were herulians in the emperor's pay. their leader, a tall figure with eagle wings on his helmet, instantly assumed command of all the forces. he ordered several men to dismount and climb the wall of the granary at his right; others trotted toward the left, to ride around the villa, and at the same time they overwhelmed us with a shower of spears. the boar's helm flew from my head, two lances had struck it at the same moment; a third now hit my skull and stretched me on the ground. at that moment, when our eyes were all fixed upon the enemy in front, a man on foot forced his way through our horsemen from the basilica behind. i heard a hoarse cry: 'wait, boy!' and saw the flash of a sword. ammata fell forward on his knees. "it was bleda, the captive hun. the torn rope still dragged from his ankle. he had wrenched himself free and seized a weapon; before he could draw the sword from the boy's back thrasaric's spear pierced him through and through. but the noble had forgotten the foes in front, and no longer struck the flying lances aside. two spears pierced him at once; he received a deep wound in the thigh and staggered against the wall of the villa. "a narrow door close beside him opened, and on the threshold stood astarte. 'come, my beloved, i will save you,' she said, seizing his arm. 'a secret passage from my cellar--' "but thrasaric silently shook her off and threw himself before the kneeling boy. for now herulians and byzantines, on foot and on horseback, were pressing forward in dense throngs. the door closed. "i tried to rise, but could not; so, unable to aid, helpless myself, but covered by a dead horse behind which i had fallen, i saw the end. i will make the story brief. so long as he could move an arm, the faithful giant protected the boy with sword and spear; finally, when the spear-head was hacked off, the sword broken, he sheltered the boy with his own body. i saw how he spread the huge bearskin over him as a shield, and clasped both arms around the child's breast. "'surrender, brave warrior,' cried the leader of the herulians. but thrasaric--hark! what was that?" "a groan? yonder! does your foot ache, my gibamund?" "i made no sound. it was probably a night-bird--outside--before the tent." "but thrasaric shook his huge head and hurled his sword-hilt into the face of the nearest byzantine, who fell, shrieking. then so many lances flew at the same instant that ammata sank lifeless on the ground. thrasaric did not fall, but stood bending forward, his arms hanging loosely. the herulian leader went close to him. 'in truth,' he said, 'never have i seen anything like this. the man is dead; but he cannot fall, so many spears, with handles resting on the ground, are fixed in his breast.' he gently drew out several; the strong noble slid down beside ammata. "our men had fled as soon as they saw us both fall. past me--i lay as though lifeless swept the foe in pursuit. not until after a long time, when everything was still, did i succeed in raising myself a little. so i was found beside ammata by the king, to whom i told the fate of both. the rest--how he lost the moment of victory, nay, threw away the victory already won, you know." "we know it," said hilda, in a hollow tone. "and where is ammata--where is thrasaric buried?" questioned gibamund. "close beside decimum, in two mounds. the land belongs to a colonist. according to the custom of our ancestors, our men placed three spears upright upon each hillock. the king's horsemen then carried me back, and placed me on a charger, which bore me through this pitiable flight. shame on this vandal people! they let their princes and nobles fight and bleed--alone! the masses have accomplished nothing but a speedy flight." chapter viii the intense darkness of the night was already yielding in the eastern sky to a faint gray glimmer of twilight, but the stars were still shining in the heavens, when a slender little figure glided noiselessly, but very swiftly, through the streets of the camp. the shaggy dogs watching their masters' tents growled, but did not bark; they were afraid of the creature slipping by so softly. a vandal, mounting guard at a street-corner, superstitiously made the sign of the cross and avoided the wraith floating past. but the white form approached him. "where is decimum? i mean, in which direction?" it asked in low, hurried tones. "in the east, yonder." he pointed with his spear. "how far is it?" "how far? very distant. we rode as fast as the horses could run; for fear pursued us,--i really do not know of what,--and we did not draw rein till we reached here. we dashed along six or eight hours before we arrived." "no matter." the hurrying figure soon reached the exit of the camp. the guards stationed there let her pass unmolested. one called after her: "where are you going? not that way! the enemy is there." "don't stay long!" a moor shouted after her; "the evil wind is rising." but she was already gone. directly behind the camp she turned from the path marked by many footprints, also by weapons lost or thrown away,--if that name could be given to this track through the desert. running several hundred paces south of the line extending from west to east, she plunged into the wilderness, crossing, meanwhile, several high, dome-like sand-hills. these mounds are piled up by the changing winds blowing through the desert in every direction, but most frequently from the south to north; and the narrow sand ravines beside them often, for the distance of a quarter of a league, obstruct the view of the person passing through them over the nearest sand-wave. not until she believed herself too far from the road to be seen, did she again turn in her original direction, eastward, or what she thought was east. meantime, it is true, the fiery, glowing rising sun had extinguished the light of the stars and marked the east; but soon thereafter the crimson disk vanished behind vaporous clouds, the exhalations of the desert. she ran on and on and on. she was now entirely within the domain of the desert. there was no longer any distinguishing object,--no tree, no bush, nothing but sky above and sand below. true, there were sometimes sand valleys, sometimes sand heights, but these, too, were perfectly uniform. on, on she ran. "only to reach his grave!" she thought. "only his grave. always straight on!" it was so still, so strangely still. once only she fancied that she saw, far, far away on her left, corresponding with the "path," hurrying cloud-shadows; perhaps they were ostriches or antelopes. no, she thought she heard human voices calling, but very, very distant. yet it sounded like "eugenia!" startled, she stooped down close to the sand-hill at her left; it would prevent her being seen from that direction. even if the valley in which she was now cowering could be overlooked from a hillock, the back of the mound would protect her. "eugenia!" now the name seemed to come again more distinctly; the tones were like hilda's voice. the low, distant sound died tremulously away, sorrowful, hopeless. all was still again. she started up, and ran on breathlessly. but the fugitive now grew uneasy, because she had lost her direction. what if she was not keeping a perfectly straight course? then she thought of looking back. the print of every one of her light footsteps was firmly impressed upon the sand. the line was perfectly straight; she rejoiced over her wisdom. then she often glanced behind--at almost every hundred steps--to test. only forward, forward! she was growing anxious. drops of perspiration had long been falling from her forehead and her bare arms. it was growing hot, very hot, and so strangely sultry--the sky so leaden gray. a light, whistling wind sprang up, blowing from south to north. eugenia glanced back again. oh, horror! she saw no sign of her footsteps. the whole expanse lay behind her as smooth as though she were just starting on her way. as if dazed by astonishment, she stamped on the sand; directly after, before her eyes, the impression was filled up, completely effaced by the finest sand, which was driven by the light breeze. startled, she pressed her hand upon her beating heart--and grasped sand; a fine but thick layer had incrusted her garments, her hair, her face. through her bewildered thoughts darted the remembrance of having heard how human beings, animals, whole caravans, had been covered by such sand-storms, how, heaped by the wind, the sand often rose like huge waves, burying all life beneath it. she fancied that on her right, on the south, a hill of sand was towering; it seemed moving swiftly onward, and threatened to bar her way. so she must run yet faster to escape it. her path was still open. just at that moment, from the south, a gust of wind suddenly blew with great force. snatching the braided hat from her head, it whirled it swiftly northward. in an instant it was almost out of sight. to overtake it was impossible. besides, she must go toward the east. forward! the wind grew stronger and stronger. the sun, rising higher, darted scorching rays upon her unprotected head; her dark-brown hair fluttered wildly around. incrusted with salt, it struck her eyes or lashed her cheeks and stung her keenly. she could scarcely keep her eyes open; the fine sand forced its way through their long lashes. on. the sand entered her shoes; the band across the instep of the left one broke. she lifted her foot; the wind tore off the shoe and whirled it away. it was certainly no misfortune, yet she wept--wept over her helplessness. she sank to her knees; the malicious sand rose slowly higher and higher. a shrill, harsh, disagreeable cry fell on her ear,--the first sound in the tremendous silence for many hours; a dark figure, flying from north to south, flitted for a moment along the horizon. it was an ostrich, fleeing in mortal terror before the simoom. with head and long white neck far outstretched, aiding the swift movement of its long legs by flapping its curved dark wings like sails, it glided on like an arrow. already it was out of sight. "that bird is hurrying with such might to save its life. shall my strength fail when i am hastening to the man i love? 'for shame, little one!' he would say." smiling through her tears, she ran forward. so an hour passed--many hours. often she thought that she must have lost the right direction, or she would have reached the battlefield long ago. the wind had risen to a tempest. her heart beat with suffocating strength. giddiness seized her; she tottered; she must rest. now, here, no vandal could overtake her to keep her by force from her sacred goal. just at that moment something white appeared above the sand close beside her. it was the first break for hours in the monotonous yellow surface. the object was no stone. seizing it, eugenia dragged it from the sand. oh, despair and horror! she shrieked aloud in desperation, in terror, in the sense of cheerless, hopeless helplessness. it was her own shoe, which she had lost hours before. she had been wandering in a circle. or had the wind borne it far away from the place where she lost it? yet, no! the shoe, which she now flung down, weeping, was swiftly covered with sand, instead of being carried away by the wind. after exhausting the last remnant of her strength, she was in the same spot. to die--now--to give up all effort--to rest--to sleep--now sweet was the temptation to the wearied limbs. but, no! to him! what were the words? "and it _constrained_ the faithful one and drew her to the grave of the dead hero." to him! eugenia raised herself with great difficulty, she was already so weak. and when she had barely gained her feet, the storm blew her down once more. again she rose, trying to see if some human being, some house, if not the path, was visible. just then she perceived before her in the north a sand-hill, higher than any of the others. it was probably more than a hundred feet. if she could succeed in climbing it, she would be able from the top to get a wide view. with inexpressible difficulty, sinking knee-deep at nearly every step in the looser sand, until her foot reached the older, firmer soil, she pressed upward, often falling back several paces when she stumbled. while she did so the strangest, most alarming thing happened,--at every slip the whole sand-hill creaked, trembled, and began to slide down in every direction. at first eugenia stopped in terror; she thought the whole mountain would sink with her. but she conquered her fear, and at last climbed upward on her knees, for she could no longer stand; she thrust her hands into the sand and dragged herself up. the wind--no, it was now a hurricane--assisted her; it blew from south to north. at last--the climb seemed to her longer than the whole previous way--at last she reached the top. opening her eyes, which she had kept half closed, she saw--oh, bliss! she saw deliverance. before her, at a long distance, it is true, yet plainly visible, glittered a steel-blue line. it was the sea! and at the side, eastward, she fancied she saw houses, trees. surely that was decimum; and a little farther inland rose a dark hill-- the end of the desert. she imagined,--yet surely it was impossible to see so far,--she believed or dreamed that, on the summit of the hill, she beheld three slender black lines relieved against the clear horizon. surely those were the three spears on the grave. "beloved one! my hero!" she cried, "i am coming." with outstretched arms she tried to hurry down the sand-hill on the northeastern: side, but, at the first step, she sank in to the knee,--deeper still, to the waist. she could still see the blue sky above her. once more, with her last strength, she flung both arms high above her head, thrusting her hands into the sand to the wrists to drag herself up; once more the large beautiful antelope eyes gazed beseechingly--ah, so despairingly--up to the silent sky; another wild, desperate pull--a hollow sound as of a heavy fall. the whole sand-mountain, shaken by her struggles and swept by the hurricane from the south, fell over her northward, burying her nearly a hundred feet deep, stifling her in a moment. above her lofty grave the desert storm raved exultingly. * * * * * for decades the beautiful corpse lay undisturbed, unprofaned, until that ever-changing architect, the wind, gradually removed the sand-hill and, one stormy night, at last blew it away entirely. just at that time a pious hermit, one of the desert monks who begged his scanty fare in decimum and carried it to his sand cave, passed along. often and often he had come that way; the hurricane had bared the skeleton only the day before. the old man stood before it, thoughtful. the little dazzlingly white bones were so dainty, so delicate, as if fashioned by an artist's hand; the garments, like the flesh, had long been completely consumed by the trickling moisture; but the lofty sand ridge had faithfully kept its beautiful secret, not a bone was missing. for a human generation the dry sand of the desert, though garments and flesh had gone to decay, had preserved uninjured the outlines of the figure as it had been pressed into the sand under the heavy weight. one could see that the buried girl had tried to protect eyes and mouth with her right hand; the left lay in a graceful attitude across her breast; her face was turned toward the ground. "who were you, dainty child, that found a solitary death here?" said the holy man, deeply touched. "for there is no trace of a companion near. a child, or a girl just entering maidenhood? but, at any rate, a christian--no moor; here on her neck, fastened by a silver chain, is a gold cross. and beside it a strange ornament,--a bronze half-circle with characters inscribed on it, not latin, greek, nor hebrew. no matter. the girl's bones shall not remain scattered in the desert. the christian shall sleep in consecrated ground. the peasants must help me to bury her here or in the neighborhood." he went to decimum. the traces of the vandal battle had long since vanished. the village children who had then fled were now grown men, the owners of the houses and fields. the peasant to whom the hermit related his touching discovery listened attentively. but when the latter spoke of the bronze half-circle with the singular characters, he interrupted him, exclaiming: "strange! in the hill-tomb, the great stone vault outside of our village,--i own the hill, and vines grow on the southern slope,--there lies, according to trustworthy tradition, a vandal boy-prince who fell here, and beside him a mighty warrior, a terrible giant, who is said to have remained faithfully by his side. the priests say he was a monster, a god of thunder, one of the old pagan gods of the barbarians, with whose fall fortune deserted them. well, the giant has hanging on his arm a half-circle exactly like the one you describe. perhaps the two belonged together? who knows? we cannot dig a grave in the desert; even if we try, the wind will blow it away. come, i'll harness the horses to my wagon; we will go out to the dead woman and lay her beside the giant; his grave has already been consecrated by the priests." this was done. but when they had placed the delicate form beside the mighty one, and the monk had muttered a prayer, he asked: "tell me, friend,--i saw with joyful surprise that you had left all the ornaments upon the dead; and that you should receive nothing for your trouble with the poor girl's skeleton is not exactly--" "peasant custom, do you mean? you are right, holy father. but you see. king gelimer, who once reigned here, enjoined upon my father after the battle to take faithful care of the graves; he was to keep them as if they were a sanctuary until gelimer should return and carry the bodies to carthage. king gelimer never returned to decimum. but my father, on his deathbed, committed the care of this tomb to me; and so shall i, before i die, to the curly-headed boy who helped us to carry the little skeleton. for king gelimer was kind to every one,--to us romans, too,--and had done my father many a favor in the days of the vandals. already many say he was no man, but a demon,--a wicked one, according to some, a good one, most declare. but, man or demon, good he certainly was; for my father has often praised him." so little eugenia at last reached her hero's side. chapter ix procopius to cethegus: i am writing this--really and truly, though it is not yet three months since we left constantinople--in carthage, at the capitol, in the royal palace of the asdings, in the hall of genseric the terrible. i often doubt the fact myself--but it is so! on the day after the battle at decimum the infantry, coming from the camp, joined us, and the whole army marched to carthage, which we reached in the evening. we chose a place to encamp outside of the city, though no one opposed our entrance. nay, the carthaginians had opened all their gates and lighted torches and lanterns everywhere in the streets and squares. all night long the bonfires shone from the city into our camp, while the few vandals who had not fled sought shelter in the catholic churches. but belisarius most strictly prohibited entering the city during the night. he feared an ambush, a stratagem of war. he could not believe that genseric's capital had actually fallen into his hands with so little trouble. on the following day, borne by a favoring breeze, our ships rounded the promontory. as soon as the carthaginians recognized our flag, they broke the iron chains of their outer harbor, mandracium, and beckoned to our sailors to enter. but the commanders, mindful of belisarius's warning, anchored in the harbor of stagnum, five thousand paces from the city, waiting further orders. yet that the worthy citizens of carthage might make the acquaintance of their liberators on the very first day, a ship's captain, kalonymos, with several sailors, entered mandracium, against the orders of belisarius and the quæstor, and plundered all the merchants--carthaginians as well as strangers--who had their homes and storehouses on the harbor. he took all their money, many of their goods, and even the beautiful candlesticks and lanterns which they had brought out in honor of our arrival. we had hoped--belisarius gave orders for a diligent search--to liberate the captive king hilderic and his nephew. but this, it appears, was not accomplished. in the royal citadel, high up on the hill crowned by the capitol, is the gloomy dungeon where the usurper held the asdings prisoners, as he barred all his foes here. the executioner supplied the place of a jailer to his predecessors. he also held captive many merchants of our empire, fearing (and my hegelochus showed with what good reason; the general sent him to-day with rich gifts to syracuse) that, if allowed to sail thither, they might bring us all sorts of valuable information. when the jailer, a roman, heard of our victory at decimum, and saw our galleys rounding the promontory, he released all these captives. he wanted to set the king and euages free also, but their dungeon was empty. no one knows what has become of them. at noon belisarius ordered the ships' crews to land, all the troops to clean their weapons and armor, to present the best appearance, and now the whole army marched in full battle-array--for we still feared an ambush of the vandals--through the "grove of the empress theodora" (so i hear the grateful carthaginians have rebaptized it); then through the southern byzacenian gate, and finally through the lower city. belisarius and the principal leaders, with some picked troops, went up to the capitol, and our general formally took his seat upon genseric's gold and purple throne. belisarius ordered the noonday meal to be served in the dining-hall where gelimer entertained the vandal nobles. it is called "delphica," because its principal ornament is a beautiful tripod. here the general feasted the leaders of his army. a banquet had been prepared in it the day before for gelimer, but we now ate the dishes made to celebrate his victory; spiced by this thought, their flavor was excellent. and gelimer's servants brought in the platters, filled the drinking vessels with fragrant wine, waited upon us in every way. this is another instance of the goddess tyche's pleasure in playing with the changing destinies of mortals. you, o cethegus, i am well aware, have a different opinion of the final causes of events; you see the fixed action of a law in the deeds of human beings, as well as in storms and sunshine. this may be magnificent, heroic, but it is terrible. i have a narrow mind, and am precisely the opposite of a hero; i cannot endure it. i waver skeptically to and fro. sometimes i see only the whimsical ruling of a blind chance, which delights in alternately lifting up and casting down; sometimes i think an inscrutable god directs everything to mysterious ends. i have renounced all philosophizing, and enjoy the motley current of events, not without scorn and derision for the follies of other people, but no less for those of procopius. and yet i do not wish to break off entirely all relations with the christian's god. we do not know whether, after all, the son of man may not yet return in the clouds of heaven. in that case, i would far rather be with the sheep than with the goats. the people, the liberated romans, the catholics, in their delight over their rescue, see signs and wonders everywhere. they regard our huns as angels of the lord. they will yet learn to know these angels, especially if they have pretty wives or daughters, or even only full money-chests. the comical part of it is that (except belisarius's body-guard), our soldiers, with all due respect to the emperor, are principally a miserable lot of rascals from all the provinces of the empire, and all the barbarian peoples in the neighborhood; they are always as ready to steal, pillage, and murder as they are to fight. yet we ourselves, in consequence of the amazing good fortune which has accompanied us throughout this whole enterprise, are beginning to consider ourselves the chosen favorites of the lord, his sacred instrument--thieves and cut-throats though we are! so the entire army, pagans as well as christians, believe that that spring gushed out for us in the desert only by a miracle of god. so both the army and the carthaginians believe in a lantern miracle in the following singular incident. the carthaginians' principal saint is saint cyprian, who has more than a dozen basilicas and chapels, in which all his festivals, "the great cypriani," are magnificently celebrated. but the vandals took nearly all the churches from the catholics, and dedicated them to the arian worship. this was the case with the great basilica of saint cyprian down by the harbor, from which they drove the catholic priests. the loss of this cathedral caused them special sorrow, and they said that saint cyprian had repeatedly appeared to devout souls in a dream, comforted them, and announced that he would some day avenge the wrong committed by the vandals. this seems to me rather _un_saintly in the great saint; we poor sinners on earth are daily exhorted to forgive our enemies, and the wrathful saint ought to let his vengeful feelings cool, and thus remain the holy cyprian. the pious catholics, thus pleasantly strengthened and justified in their thirst for revenge by their patron saint, had long waited, in mingled curiosity and anxiety, for the blow saint cyprian was to deal the heretics. on this day it became evident. the festival of the great cyprian was just at hand; it fell on the day following the battle of decimum. on the evening before, the arian priests themselves had decorated the entire church magnificently, and especially arranged thousands of little lamps, in order to have a brilliant illumination at night to celebrate the victory; for they did not doubt the success of their own army. by the written order of the archdeacon verus,--he had accompanied the king to the field,--all the church vessels and church treasures of every description were brought out of the hidden thesauri and placed upon the seven altars of the basilica. never would these unsuspected riches have been found in the secret vaults of the church, had not verus given these directions and sent the keys. but we, not the vandals, won the battle of decimum. at this news the arian priests fled headlong from the city. the catholics poured into the basilica, discovered the secret treasures of the heretics, and lighted their lamps to celebrate the victory of the champions of the true faith. "this is the vengeance of saint cyprian!" "this is the miracle of the lamps!" through the city they went, roaring these words and cuffing and pounding every doubter until he believed and shouted with them: "yes, this is saint cyprian's vengeance and the miracle of the lamps!" now i have not the least objection to an occasional miracle. on the contrary, i am glad when something often happens that the all-explaining philosophers who have so long tormented me cannot understand. but then it must be a genuine, thorough-going miracle. if a miracle cannot present itself as something entirely beyond the limits of reason, it would better not attempt to be a miracle at all; it isn't worth while. and this miracle appears to me far too natural. belisarius reproved my incredulous derision. but i replied that saint cyprian seems to me the patron saint of the lamplighters; i don't belong to that society. * * * * * fara, the herulian, captured the fairest booty at decimum. true, he received from the noble a sharp lance-thrust in the arm through his brazen shield. but the shield had done its duty; the point did not penetrate too deeply into the flesh. and when he entered the nearest villa,--he was just breaking in,--the door opened, and a wonderfully beautiful woman, with superb jewels and scarlet flowers in her black hair, came to meet him. except the flowers and gems, she was not burdened with too much clothing. the vision held out a wreath of laurel and pomegranate blossoms. "whom did you expect?" asked the herulian, in amazement. "the victor," replied the beautiful woman. a somewhat oracular reply! this sphinx--she looks, i have already told you, exactly like one--would undoubtedly have given her wreath and herself just as willingly to the victorious vandals. after all, what does the carthaginian care for either vandals or byzantines? she is the prize of the stronger, the conqueror--perhaps to his destruction. but i think the sphinx has now found her [oe]dipus. if one of this strange pair of lovers must perish, it will hardly be my friend fara. he took me to her; he has some regard for me, because i can read and write. he had evidently praised me. in vain. she scanned me from head to foot, and from foot to head, it did not consume much time; i am not very tall,--then, with a contemptuous curl of her full red lips, she moved far away from me. i will not assert that i am handsome, while fara, next to belisarius, is certainly the stateliest of all our six and thirty thousand men. but i was indignant that my mortal part at once so repelled her that she did not even desire to know the immortal side. i am angered against her, i wish her no evil; but it would neither greatly surprise, nor deeply grieve me, if she should come to a bad end. chapter x belisarius is pushing the work on the walls day and night. besides the whole army and the crews of the ships, he has employed the citizens. they grumble, saying that we came to liberate them, and now compel them to harder labor than gelimer ever imposed. the vast extent of the city wall shows many gaps and holes; we think that may be the reason the king did not retreat into his capital after the lost battle. verus, who, even in secular matters, holds a high place in the esteem of the "tyrant" (this, according to justinian's command, is the name we must give the champion of his people's liberty), is said, according to the statements of the prisoners, to have advised the king from the first to shut himself up in carthage and let us besiege him there. if that is true, the priest knows more about lamps than he does of war, but that is natural. the very first night, our general says, we could have slipped in through some gap, especially as many thousand carthaginians were ready to show us such holes. and we should have captured the whole vandal grandeur at one blow, as if in a mouse-trap; while now we must seek the enemy in the desert. the king instantly rejected the counsel. * * * * * the goddess tyche is the one woman in whom i often really feel tempted to believe. and also in ate,--discord. to you, ate and tyche, mighty sisters, not to saint cyprian, we must light lanterns to show our gratitude. the goddess of fortune is not weary of playing ball with the destinies of the vandals, but she could not do it, if ate had not placed this ball in her hands. yesterday a little sail-boat ran into the harbor from the north. it bore the scarlet vandal flag. captured by our guard-ships, which were lurking unseen behind the high wall of the harbor, the barbarians on board were frightened nearly to death; they had had no idea of the capture of their capital. they had come directly from sardinia! to send the flower of their fleet and army there, while we were already lying off sicily, was surely prompted by ate. on the captain was found a letter with the following contents: "hail, and victory to you, o king of the vandals! where now are your gloomy forebodings? i announce victory. we landed at caralis, the capital of sardinia. we took harbor, city, and capitol. goda, the traitor, fell by my spear; his men are dispersed or prisoners; the whole island is again yours. celebrate a feast of victory. it is the omen of a greater day, when you will crush the insolent foes who, as we have just heard here, are really sailing against our coasts. not one must return from our africa! this writes zazo, your faithful general and brother." that was yesterday; and to-day one of our cruisers brought into the harbor a vandal galley captured on its way to sardinia. it bore a messenger from gelimer with the following letter: "it was not goda who lured us to sardinia, but a demon of hell in goda's form, whom god has permitted to destroy us. you did not set forth that we might vanquish sardinia, but that our foes might conquer africa. it was the will of heaven, since god ordained your voyage. you had scarcely sailed, when belisarius landed. his army is small, but fortune as well as heroism abandoned our people. the nation has no good-luck, and its king no discernment; even wise plans are ruined by the impetuosity of one or the kind heart of another. ammata, our darling, has fallen; thrasaric the faithful has fallen; gibamund is wounded; our army was defeated at decimum. our ship-wharves, our harbors, our armory, our horses, carthage itself are in the hands of the enemy. but the vandals whom i still hold together seem to have been stupefied by the first blow; they cannot be roused, though everything is at stake. the short-lived outburst of energy has vanished from nearly all. it is shameful to say, but there is far more capacity for war in the twelve thousand moorish mercenaries, whom i hired with heavy gold and have assembled in a strong camp at bulla, than in our whole intimidated army. should these men also fail me, the end would soon come. our sole hope is on you and your return. let sardinia and the punishment of the rebellion go; fly hither with the whole fleet. do not land at carthage, however, but far to the left, on the boundary between mauritania and numidia. let us avert or bear together the threatening destruction. gelimer." the letters of the brothers cross each other, and both fall into our hands! and now the king will vainly await his fleet in the west. come, goddess tyche, puff out your cheeks, blow upon the sails of the vandal galleys, and bring them all in safety with the victorious army, gelimer's last hope, into the harbor of carthage--to captivity. * * * * * the goddess tyche, too, is just a woman, like the rest. suddenly she turns her back upon us--at least a little--and coquets with the fair-haired warriors. i might be inclined to turn again to the holy lamplighter. the "tyrant" is making progress. how? by his kind heart and friendliness, people say. he is winning the country population,--not the moors, no,--the romans, the catholics. hear and help, o saint cyprian! he is drawing them from us to his side. he maintains strict discipline; but the only time our huns do not rob, plunder, and steal is when they are standing in rank and file before belisarius--or when they are asleep; but then they at least dream of pillaging. so the peasants whom we have liberated flee in throngs from their deliverers to the camp of the barbarian king. they prefer the vandals to the huns. they collect together, fall upon our plundering heroes (true, they are largely camp-followers), cut off their pagan, nay, even their christian heads, and receive in exchange from the "tyrant" a heretical gold-piece. that alone would not be so bad, but the peasants serve the vandal as spies, and tell him everything he desires to know, so far as they know it themselves. this kindness of heart is undoubtedly hypocrisy, but it helps,--perhaps more than if it were genuine. * * * * * i am really almost sorry for the sphinx. she was so wonderfully beautiful! only it is a pity that she did not become an animal instead of a woman. fara discovered that she also allowed althias the thracian and aigan the hun to divine the mystery of her nature. at first the three heroes intended to fight to the death for the marvel. but this time the hun was wiser than either the german or the thracian. by his suggestion, they fraternally divided the woman into equal portions by strapping her on a board, and, with two blows of an axe, separating her into three parts. fara received the head, as was fair; he had the best right to it. for when she noticed his distrust, she tried to soothe him by the offer of some fruit which she broke fresh from the tree. but she made a mistake there; fara, the herulian and pagan, likes horse-flesh far better than he does peaches. he gave it to her ape. the animal bit it, shook itself, and lay dead. this disturbed the german, and he did not rest until he had solved all the riddles of the many-sided sphinx, even her natural faithlessness. then, as i said, they divided the beautiful body into three parts. i advised them to bury the corpse very deep, or at night scorching red flames would burst from her grave. * * * * * a little defeat. belisarius was complaining he knew too little of the enemy. so he sent one of the best men of his body-guard, diogenes, towards the southwest to obtain news. he and his men spent the night in a village. the peasants swore that there was not a vandal within two days' march. our heroes slept in the best house,--it belonged to the villicus,--in the second story; of course they had first been a long time under the lower story, that is, in the cellar. they posted no sentinels, certainly not; they are the liberators of the peasants. the fact that they had just drunk all the wine contained in all the amphoræ in the village, killed the people's cattle, embraced their wives, had nothing to do with the matter. peasants must expect such things. soon they were all snoring, diogenes in the lead. night fell. the peasants quickly brought the vandals,--from the immediate neighborhood,--who surrounded the house. but saint cyprian is stronger than the heaviest drunken sleep. he caused a sword to drop on a metal shield below; it waked--this is a miracle in which i believe, for no mortal could accomplish it--it waked one of the sleepers. under cover of the darkness most of the men succeeded in escaping; diogenes came back, too--with three wounds in his face and neck, minus the little finger of his sword-hand, and without a single piece of useful information. * * * * * the goddess tyche is blowing badly. the vandal fleet has not yet run into carthage to its destruction. * * * * * the tyrant seems to have roused his army from its stupor. our outposts, horsemen whom we send forth around the city, report: "vast clouds of dust are rising in the southwest, which can be caused only by an approaching army." * * * * * no zazo. has he, in spite of the capture of that letter, received warning and chosen another landing-place? the vandals were undoubtedly hidden in that cloud of dust. our herulians have captured a few peasants; we have already perceived in this almost liberated africa that the peasants must be captured by their deliverers, if we wish to get sight of them. they seek refuge with the barbarians from liberty. the prisoners say that the king himself is marching against us. he ordered a vandal noble who had stolen a colonist's wife to be hanged on the high door of the colonist's house. and this nobleman's shieldbearer, who had taken two of the colonist's geese, to be hanged on the low stable door, beside his master. strange, is it not? but it pleases the peasants. "equalizing justice," aristoteles calls it. this wonderful vandal hero must surely have studied philosophy, as well as the art of throwing spears. belisarius has sent an urgent warning to constantinople concerning the long-delayed pay of the huns. they are growing troublesome. it is now six months since we left the city; december has come. desert storms sweep over carthage to the leaden-hued sea, which long since lost its beautiful blue. the huns are threatening to leave the service. they excuse their pillaging on the ground that the citizens of carthage and the peasants will trust neither them nor the emperor (in which they are not wrong). we cannot pay with money lying in constantinople, they say. to-day a ship arrived from there, but did not bring a single solidus in money. there were, however, thirty tax-collectors, and a command to send the first taxes from the conquered province. * * * * * if king gelimer hangs, we hang too. but we hang romans, not vandals. the resentment against us is no longer confined to the peasants. it is seething in carthage, under our own eyes. the common people, the tradesmen and the smaller merchants especially, who did not feel the oppression of the barbarians as heavily as the wealthy senators, are growing rebellious. a conspiracy has been discovered. gelimer's army is not far from the western, the numidian gate. his horsemen range at night as far as the walls of the suburb of aklas. the vandals were to be admitted under cover of the darkness through the gaps still remaining in the walls of the lower city. belisarius ordered two carthaginian citizens convicted of this agreement, laurus and victor, to be hanged on the hill outside of the numidian gate. belisarius likes hills for his gallows. then the general's administration of justice can be seen for a long distance swaying in the wind. but belisarius does not dare to leave the city with the army while the carthaginians are in such a mood. at least the walls must first be repaired. the citizens are now compelled to work on them at night too; it is making them very discontented. * * * * * no zazo! and the huns are on the brink of open mutiny. they declare that they will not fight in the next battle; that they have had no pay yet, and that they have been lured here across the sea, contrary to the agreement for military service. they are afraid that, after the defeat of the vandals, they will be left here to do garrison duty, and never be taken home. belisarius has already looked for a more spacious hill, but has not found one that would be large enough. there are too many of them. and the rest of us are, on the whole, too few. besides, they are among our best troops. so the general invited their leaders (the order to hang them was written yesterday) to dine with him to-day. this is the greatest honor and pleasure to them; unfortunately it is much less pleasant to the regular guests of belisarius. he praised them, and offered them wine. soon all were drunk and perfectly content. * * * * * they have slept off their carouse, and now are more dissatisfied than ever,--thirstier too. we have an ample supply of wine, but, during the last three hours, no water. the vandals have cut the magnificent aqueduct outside the numidian gate. the huns can do without it, easily; but not we, the horses, the camels, and the carthaginians. so the king will thus force a decisive battle in the field. he cannot surround the city, as we control the sea. he cannot storm it, since at last the fortifications are completed according to belisarius's plan. he desires, he seeks a battle in the open field. his confidence, or that of his "stupefied army," must have returned mightily since that sorrowful letter. belisarius has no choice; he will lead us out early to-morrow morning to meet the foe. he is anxious lest the huns may secretly harbor some evil design, and has charged fara to keep a sharp watch upon them. if the battle should waver, the huns will waver too. then we shall see in the van a conflict between byzantines and vandals, and in the rear a struggle between herulians and huns. that may become exciting. but this very suspense, this charm of danger, attracted me to belisarius's service, drew me to his camp. better a vandal arrow in my brain than the philosophy over which i had studied myself ill.--to-morrow! chapter xi the following day, after again inspecting the restored fortifications of carthage, and finding them sufficiently strong to receive, in case of necessity, his defeated army and defy a siege, belisarius sent all the cavalry, except five hundred picked illyrians, out of the gates to meet the foe. to althias the thracian he assigned the chosen body of shield-bearers with the imperial banner. they were not to shun, but rather invite a skirmish with the outposts. he himself was to follow the next day with the main body of the infantry and the five hundred illyrian horsemen. only the few soldiers absolutely required to guard the gates, towers, and walls remained in the city. at trikameron, about seventeen roman miles--seventeen thousand paces--west of carthage, althias met the foe. the front ranks of both troops exchanged a few arrow-shots, and returned to their armies with the report. the byzantines pitched their camp where they stood. not far from them blazed the numerous watch-fires of the vandals. a narrow brook ran between the two positions. the whole region was flat and treeless, with the exception of one hill of moderate size that rose from the sandy soil very near the stream on the left wing of the romans. without waiting for althias's command or permission, aigan, the principal leader of the huns, dashed up the hill as soon as he heard that the men were to encamp here to-day and fight on the morrow. the other leaders and their bands darted after him with the speed of an arrow. he sent a message to althias that the huns would spend the night on the hill, and take their position the next day. althias avoided forbidding what he could not prevent without bloodshed. but the hill dominated the surrounding neighborhood. at a late hour of the night, the chieftains of the huns met on the top of the hill. "is there no spy near?" asked aigan. "this herulian prince never leaves us." "my lord, i obeyed your commands. seventy huns are lying on guard in a circle around our station; not a bird can fly over them unnoticed." "what shall we do to-morrow?" asked a third, leaning against his horse's shoulder and patting its shaggy mane. "i no longer trust the word of belisarius. he is deceiving us." "belisarius is not deceiving us. his master is deluding _him_." "i saw a strange sign," the second leader began anxiously. "just as darkness closed in, little blue flames danced upon the points of the romans' spears. what does that mean?" "it means victory," cried the third, greatly excited. "there is a tradition in our tribe, my great-grandfather saw it himself, and it was transmitted from generation to generation, before the terrible day in gaul when the scourge of the great attila broke." "atta in the clouds, great atta, be gracious to us," murmured all three, bowing low toward the east. "my ancestor was on guard duty one dark night beside a rushing stream. on the opposite shore two men, with spears on their shoulders, were riding to examine the neighborhood. my great-grandfather and his companions slipped among the tall rushes and bent their bows, which never failed. they took aim. 'look, Ætius,' cried one, 'your spear is shining.' 'and yours too, king of the visigoths,' replied the other. our ancestors looked up, and, in truth, blue flames were dancing around the spears of the enemy. our people fled in terror, not daring to shoot those whom the gods protected. and the day after atta--" "atta, atta, be not angry with us!" they again whispered, gazing in terror up at the clouds. "what then meant victory to the germans and misfortune to their foes," replied aigan, distrustfully, "may have the same meaning now. we will wait. wherever victory turns, we will turn too; that is why i chose this hill for our station. from here we can see clearly the whole course of the battle. either straight across the brook on the vandals' left flank--" "or to the right on the romans' centre--like a whirlwind!" "i would rather plunder the vandals' camp. it is said to be very rich in yellow gold." "and in white-bosomed women." "but all carthage has more gold than the vandal prince in his tent." "but the best part is, the decision will probably come before the lion of the romans arrives." "you are right: i would not willingly spur my horse against the wrathful lightning of his eyes." "patience. wait quietly. wherever i send an arrow, we will rush; and atta will hover, high in the air, above his children." removing his helmet of thick black sheepskin, he threw it upward, singing softly: "atta, atta, booty grant us, booty to thy much-loved children, yellow gold and shining silver, and the red blood of the vineyard, and the foeman's fairest women." all, with bared heads, repeated the words in the deepest, most fervent reverence. then aigan replaced his helmet: "silence! let us separate." chapter xii in the vandal camp on the left bank of the stream, genseric's great banner floated from the royal tent, its folds often lifted by the night wind, rustling softly in the warm, dark air. in a somewhat lower tent, close beside the king's, gibamund and hilda sat silent, hand in hand, upon a couch. the table before them was covered with gibamund's weapons; the lamp hanging from the roof cast a dim light upon them, which was reflected by the polished metal. beside these bright arms lay a dark dagger with a beautiful hilt in a black leather sheath, all of very artistic work. "it was hard for me," said gibamund, starting up impatiently, "to obey the king's order and take command in the camp to-day until his return,--the suspense, the expectation is so great." "yes, if the moors should fail us! how many are there, did you say?" "twelve thousand. they ought to have arrived the day before yesterday, if they had hastened here from the camp at bulla, according to the agreement. the king sent messenger after messenger, urging haste, in vain. at last, full of impatience, he himself rode along the numidian road to meet them. for if twelve thousand infantry fail us to-morrow,--they were to form our whole left wing,--our position will be--hark! that is the horn of the camp-guard. the king must have returned. let me ask." but already footsteps and the clank of weapons were heard close at hand; the husband and wife, springing up, hurried to the entrance of the tent. the curtains were drawn back from the outside, and before them, the helmet on his lofty head, stood zazo. "you, brother?" "you back again, zazo! oh, now all is well!" graver, quieter than usual, but resolute and calm, the strong warrior stood between the two who clung to him, pressing his hands. it was a joy, a consolation, to look at the erect, steadfast man. "all is not well, my sweet sister-in-law," he answered sadly though firmly. "alas for ammata, and the whole day of decimum! i do not understand it," he added, shaking his head, "but much may yet be retrieved." "whence came you so suddenly? have you seen gelimer?" "he will be here soon. he promised me. he is still praying in his tent, with verus." "you are from--?" "sardinia, direct. a letter from the king, sent by verus, urging me to a speedy return and warning me not to enter the harbor of carthage, did not reach me. but a second, despatched by my brother himself, brought the whole tale of disaster. i landed at the point named, and marched to bulla to meet the moorish mercenaries and lead them here. i reached bulla and found--" he stamped his foot. "well, what?" "the empty camp." "had the moors started to come here?" "they have scattered, the whole twelve thousand, into the desert." "for god's sake--" "the traitors!" "not traitors. they sent the money back to the king. cabaon, their prophet and chief, warned them, forbade them to take part in this battle. all obeyed. only a few hundred men from the pappua mountains--" "they are bound by the ties of hospitality to gelimer, to the whole asding race." "--accompanied us, led by sersaon, their chief." "this destroys the king's whole plan for to-morrow's battle." "well," said zazo, quietly, "to make amends he has unexpectedly received my troops. not quite five thousand, but--" "but you are their leader," cried gibamund. "he met on the numidian road, first, the messengers i had sent in advance, then me and my little army. what a sorrowful hour! how i had rejoiced over my victory! but now gelimer's tears flowed fast as he lay on my breast, and i myself--oh, ammata! yet, no, we must remain firm, calm, and manly, ay, hard; for this king is far too soft-hearted." "yet he has recovered himself since the battle of decimum," said gibamund. "at that time he was utterly crushed." "yes," cried hilda, resentfully, "more than a man should permit himself to be." "i loved ammata scarcely less than he," replied zazo, and his lips quivered. "but to let certain victory escape him merely to mourn for, to bury the boy--" "you would not have done so, my zazo," said a gentle voice. gelimer had entered. he uttered the words very quietly; the others turned, startled. "your censure is just," he added. "but i saw in this dispensation--he was the first vandal who fell in the war--a judgment of god. if the most innocent of us all must die, god's punishment for the iniquity of the fathers rests upon us all." zazo shook his head angrily and set his buffalo helmet on the table so heavily that it rattled. "brother, brother! this gloomy, brooding delusion may destroy you and your whole people. i am not learned enough to argue with you. but i, too, am a christian, a devout one,--no pagan like beautiful hilda yonder, and i tell you--no, let me finish. how that terrible verse concerning god's vengeance is to be interpreted i do not know. it troubles me very little. but this i do know: if our kingdom fall, it will fall not on account of the sins of our ancestors, but of our own. the iniquity of the fathers--of course it, too, will be avenged. vices and disease are also hereditary. enfeebled themselves, they have begotten a feeble generation. they have bequeathed to their children their love of pleasure and fostered it in them. and the iniquity of the fathers is also avenged upon us in other ways, but without any miracle of the saints. that the catholics, tortured for years, turned to the emperor against us; that the ostrogoths aid our foes, are certainly punishments for the iniquity of our fathers. but god needs to work no miracle for that; indeed, he would be compelled to work a miracle to prevent it. and ammata--is he innocent? against your command he dashed recklessly into the battle. and thrasaric? instead of leaving the disobedient boy to his fate, according to his duty as general, and not attacking until gibamund was at hand, he followed only the ardent desire of his heart to save your darling. and--" he hesitated. "and the king?" gelimer went on. "instead of doing his duty, he succumbs at the sight of the dead. but that is the curse, the vengeance of the lord." "no," replied zazo. "this, too, is no miracle. this is because you, also, o brother, are no longer a true vandal; i have said so before. you are absorbed,--not like the people, in luxury and pleasure,--but in brooding. and again it is a consequence of the misdeed of the father; if you had not when a boy witnessed that horrible scene of torture--but it is useless to ask how the past is to blame for the present; the aim should be to do our duty to-day, to-morrow, every day, firmly, faithfully, and without brooding. then we shall conquer, and that will be well; or we shall fall like men, and that, too, is no evil thing. we can do no more than our duty. and the dear lord in heaven will deal with our souls according to his mercy. i am not anxious about mine, if i fall in battle for my people." "oh," cried hilda, joyously, "that does one good. it is like the fresh north wind scattering the sultry mists." sorrowfully but with no reproach in his tone, gelimer answered: "yes, the sound man cannot understand why the sick man does not sing and leap. i _must_ 'brood,' as you call it; i cannot do otherwise. yet often i think my way through. often i, too, in my way, break through the mists. so now, by fervent prayer, i have again won my way to the old strong consolation. verus, my confessor, knows these conflicts and the cause of my victory: right is on my side. i am not a usurper, as the emperor falsely calls me. hilderic, the assassin, was justly deposed. no guilt cleaves to me; i have done hilderic no wrong; the emperor has no injustice to avenge on me. this is my stay, my support, and my staff.--ah, verus, we never hear you enter." zazo measured the priest with a hostile glance. "i came to summon you, o king. there are still some written orders to prepare. besides, i was to remind you of the prisoners." "oh, yes. listen, zazo; give the consent i have so long asked. let me release hilderic and euages." "by no means," cried zazo, striding up and down the narrow tent. "on no account. least of all on the eve of a decisive battle. shall belisarius replace him on the throne of carthage after we have fallen? or shall he, after we have conquered, be kept continually at the court of constantinople as a living pretext for attacking us again? off with the murderers' heads! where are they?" "here in the camp, in safe keeping." "and the hostages?" "they were--pudentius's son among them--confined in decimum," verus answered. "after the lost battle, they were freed by the victors." "that might be repeated to-morrow," cried zazo, angrily. "amid the tumult of conflict, the foe might easily, for a short time, enter this open camp. i entreat, my king--" "so be it," interrupted the latter, and turning to verus he ordered: "have hilderic and euages taken away." "where?" "to some safe place where no byzantine can liberate them." verus bowed and hurriedly left the tent. "i will follow you," the king called after him. "do not judge me too sternly in your hearts, you thoroughly healthy people," he now added in a gentle voice, turning to the others. "i am a tree blasted by the lightning. but to-morrow," he went on, drawing himself up to his full height, "to-morrow, i hope, you shall be satisfied with me. even you, hilda! send me your little harp; i believe you will not regret it." hilda brought the instrument from a corner of the tent. "here! but you know," she said, smiling, "its strings will break if any one tries to play on them an accompaniment to latin verses of penitential hymns." "they will not break. good-night." the king left the tent. "i think i have seen that harp of plain black wood in some other hand. where was it?" asked zazo. "in ravenna, was it not?" hilda nodded. "my friend teja, my teacher on the harp and in the use of arms, bestowed it on me as a wedding gift. and his noble, faithful heart has not forgotten me. in my happiness he made no sign. but now--" "well?" asked zazo. "as soon as the first news of our defeat at decimum reached ravenna," said gibamund, "brave ostrogoths, the old instructor in the use of arms, teja, and several others, wished to come to our assistance with a body of volunteers; for it was rumored that i had fallen. probably the mistake arose through the death of ammata. the regent strictly forbade it. then teja sent to my widow, as he supposed, this magnificent dagger of dark metal." "the workmanship is exquisite," said zazo, drawing out the blade and examining it. "what a superb weapon!" "and he forged it himself," cried hilda, eagerly. "look here; his housemark on the hilt." "and on the blade a motto inscribed in runes," added zazo, stepping under the lamp: "'the dead are free.' h'm, a stern consolation. but not too stern for hilda. keep this carefully." "yes," replied hilda, quietly. "the dagger in my girdle, and the consolation in my thoughts." "but not too soon, hilda," said zazo, in a tone of warning, as he left the tent. "have no fear," she answered, throwing both arms around her husband; "it is the consolation and weapon of the _widow_." chapter xiii at sunrise the next morning the long-drawn notes of the horns aroused the sleeping camp of the vandals. concealed from the eyes of the romans by the first row of tents, the barbarians' army was formed in order for battle within its own camp. the leaders had received written orders the evening before concerning their positions, and now executed them without confusion. a breakfast of bread and wine was served to the men wherever they stood or lay. the camp was a large one, narrow but very long, following the course of the little stream. besides the soldiers, it had been compelled to shelter many women, children, and old men who had fled from carthage and other districts occupied or threatened by the foe. now the blare of trumpets summoned the subordinate officers and the leaders of the thousands to the centre of the camp, where the king and his two brothers, mounted on their chargers, were in the midst of a large open space. with them, leaning against the shoulder of her splendid stallion, stood hilda, a muffled spear-shaft in her hand; beside her, in full priestly insignia, verus sat on horseback. outside the leaders were massed the men with whom zazo had reconquered sardinia. again the blare of the trumpets echoed through the streets of tents, then zazo rode a few paces forward. thundering cheers greeted him. in loud, clear tones he began: "listen, army of the vandals. we shall fight to-day, not for victory alone; we are struggling for all we are and have,--the kingdom of genseric and its renown, the wives and children in yonder tents, who will become slaves if we yield. to-day we must look death and the enemy closely in the eye. the king has commanded that this battle is to be fought by the vandals with the sword only, not with bow and arrow, not with lance and spear. look, i cast my own spear from me; you will do the same; with sword in hand, press close to the body of the foe." he dropped his lance; all the soldiers followed his example. "one spear alone," he added, "will tower aloft to-day in the vandal army,--this." hilda stepped forward. taking the shaft from her hand, he tore off the cover and waved high aloft a floating scarlet banner. "genseric's flag! genseric's conquering dragon!" shouted thousands of voices. "follow this standard wherever it calls you. do not let it fall into the hands of the enemy. swear to follow it unto death." "unto death!" came the answer in solemn tones. "that is well. i believe you. vandals. now listen to your king. you know that he has the gift of song and harp-playing. he has planned the order of battle wisely, skilfully; he has also composed the battle-song which is to sweep you into the conflict." then gelimer, throwing back his long purple mantle, raised hilda's--teja's--dark triangular harp, and, to the accompaniment of its clear notes, sang:-- "on, on, vandals brave, forward to battle! follow the standard, the fame-heralded consort of victory. "dash on the foemen! strive with and strike them, breast 'gainst breast pressing, in close combat down! "guard ye, o vandals, the heritage noble of ancestors stainless, our kingdom and fame! "vengeance is preparing high in the heavens the avenger of right: god crown with victory the cause that is just." "god crown with victory the cause that is just!" repeated the warriors, in an exulting shout, and dispersed through the streets of the camp. the king and his brothers now dismounted from their horses, to hold another short council and to drink the wine which hilda herself offered to them. just at that moment, as gelimer gave back the harp to hilda, a strange figure pressed through the dispersing ranks; the king and the princes gazed at it in astonishment. a tall man clad from head to ankles in a gown of camel's hair, fastened around the loins, not by a rope, but by a girdle of thick braided strands of a woman's light-brown tresses; no sandals protected the bare feet, no covering the closely shaven head. the cheeks were sunken; glowing eyes sparkled from deep sockets. throwing himself before the king, he raised both hands imploringly. "by heaven! i know you, man," said gelimer. "yes," cried gibamund, "it is--" "thrasabad, thrasaric's brother," added zazo. "the vanished nobleman whom we have long believed dead," said hilda, with a timid glance at him, drawing nearer. "yes, thrasabad," replied a hollow voice, "the miserable thrasabad. i am a murderer, her murderer. king, judge me!" gelimer bent forward, took his right hand, and raised him. "not the greek girl's murderer. i have heard the whole story from your brother." "no matter; her blood rests on my soul. i felt that as i saw it flow. lifting the beautiful body on a horse that very night, i dashed away with it from the eyes of men. away, always deeper into the desert, till the horse fell. then, with these hands, i buried her in a sand ravine not far from here. her wonderfully beautiful hair i cut off; how often i have stroked and caressed it! and i prayed and did penance ceaselessly beside her grave. pious desert monks found me there, watching and fasting, almost dead. and i confessed to them my heavy sin. they promised god's forgiveness if, as one of their brotherhood, i would do penance beside that grave forever. i took the vows. they gave me the dress of their order; i wound glauke's hair around it to remind me always of my sin; and they brought me food in the lonely ravine. but since i heard of the day of decimum and my brother's death; since the decisive conflict drew nearer and nearer; since you and the enemy pitched your camp close beside my hiding-place; since, two days ago, i heard the war horns of my people,--i have had no peace in my idle praying! once i wielded the sword not badly. my whole heart yearned to follow once more, for the last time, the call of the battle trumpets. alas! i dared not; i knew i was not worthy. but last night, in a dream, _she_ appeared to me,--her human beauty transfigured into an angel's radiant loveliness, no longer any trace of earth about her; and she said: 'go to your brothers-in-arms, ask for a sword, and fight and fall for your people. that will be the best atonement.' oh, believe me, my king! i do not lie with the name of that saint on my lips. if you can forgive me for her sake--oh, let me--" zazo stepped forward, drew the sword from the sheath of one of his own warriors, and gave it to the monk. "here, thrasabad, son of thrasamer! i will answer for it to the king. do you see? he, too, is nodding to you. take this sword and go with my men. you will probably need no scabbard. now, king gelimer, let the horns bray. forward! at the foe!" chapter xiv the king, with a keen eye of a general, had seen that the crisis of the battle would be decided in the centre of the two armies, where on the southwest at the left, and on the northeast at the right of the little stream, rose a succession of low hills. besides, deserters from the huns had reported that in the next encounter these troops would either not fight at all, or take a very inactive part; therefore gelimer expected from the right roman wing no peril to his own left flank. he stationed the right wing of the vandal troops tolerably far back, so that the enemy would have to march a considerable distance to reach it. perhaps by that time the centre might already have won the victory, and thereby obtained the accession of the huns. so the king placed the best strength of his troops in the centre. by far the larger portion consisted of cavalry; there was a small force of infantry, zazo's warriors, numbering nearly five thousand; here, too, he had posted gibamund with his faithful two hundred men; here were the two gundings and their numerous kinsmen, with boar helmets and boar shields, like their leaders; here he himself took his station with a large body of cavalry, to which he added the few faithful moors from the pappua mountains under their young chief, sersaon. the command of the two wings he had intrusted to two other noblemen. before the beginning of the battle and during its course, gelimer dashed in person on a swift horse everywhere through the ranks, rousing and stimulating the courage of his men. the conflict began as the king had planned, by a total surprise of the foe. just at the time the byzantines were busied in preparing the morning meal, gelimer suddenly led the centre of his army from behind the shelter of the row of tents to the left bank of the marshy little brook. this stream was so small that it had no name, yet it never dried up. and the left bank occupied by the vandals was higher than the right. belisarius was not yet on the ground, but his subordinate officers arranged their men as well as they could in their haste, where each division happened to be standing or lying. the right roman wing on the hill consisted of the huns, who did not move. next to them, according to secret orders, stood fara with the herulians, watching these doubtful allies. then followed, in the centre, althias the thracian and johannes the armenian, with their picked troops of their fellow-countrymen, and the shield and lance bearers of belisarius's bodyguard. here gleamed the imperial standard, the _vexillum prætorium_, the flag of the general, belisarius. the left roman wing was formed of the other auxiliary troops except the huns. the byzantines, too, had perceived that the victory would be decided in the centre of the two armies. when gibamund, on his white charger, led his men forward, hilda on her splendid stallion rode at his side. by her husband's wish she had protected her beautiful head with a light helmet, on which rose two white falcon wings; her bright golden locks flowed over her white mantle. he had also pressed upon her a small, shining shield, with a light silvery hue. her white lower robe was girdled with the black belt which supported the sheath of teja's dagger; but she had refused a breastplate on account of its weight. "you will not let me fight with you or even ride by your side," she complained. already the byzantines' arrows were flying over the vandals and striking among gibamund's men. "halt, love," he commanded, "go no farther! not within reach of the arrows! wait here, on this little hill. i will leave ten men as a guard. from this spot you can see a long distance. watch the white heron's wings on my helmet, and the dragon banner. i shall follow it." a clasp of the hand; gibamund dashed forward; hilda quietly checked the docile horse. her face was very pale. the first encounter came at once. johannes the armenian, one of belisarius's best leaders, pressed with his countrymen through the stream, which reached only to their knees, and rushed out of it up the steeper vandal shore. he was instantly hurled back. zazo, with his foremost warriors, darted upon him with the weight with which a bird of prey strikes small game. down the slope, into the midst of the stream, whose water was soon dyed red, and up the opposite bank, swept the vandal pursuit. hilda saw it plainly from her station. "oh, at last, at last," she cried, "a breath of victory!" but zazo followed no farther. he prudently led his men back to the left bank of the stream. "we will pitch them down here again," he said, laughing; "we will profit once more by our position on the height." the armenians bore their brave leader away with them in their flight. johannes, who had received through his shield a wound in the arm from zazo's sword, said grimly to marcellus, the commander of the bodyguard: "the devil has got into the cowards of decimum. it confuses my spearmen to have them fight solely with the sword. the barbarians thrust the long spears to the right, run under them, and cut the men down. and this fellow with the buffalo helm actually butts like a mountain bull. give me your shield-bearers; i will try again." with the shield-bearers, led by martinus, the armenians renewed the attack. not an arrow, not a spear, flew to meet them; but as soon as they began to climb the vandal shore, the germans dashed down on them with the sword in a hand-to-hand conflict. martinus fell by gibamund's sword. then the shield-bearers fled; the armenians hesitated, wavered, fell into confusion, finally they, too, fled, pursued by the vandals. "dash on the foemen! strive with and strike them down in close combat!" rose in a roar from zazo's troops, whom the latter again led to the left shore. "they must repeatedly see the backs of the dreaded byzantines before they have the courage to defeat them entirely," he said to gibamund, who urged pursuit. "and where is belisarius?" the latter, with his five hundred horsemen, had reached the centre from carthage just in time to see the flight of his men. when he learned that this was the second attack which had been repulsed, he ordered all his bodyguard, men trained to fight on foot as well as on horseback, to dismount and advance with althias's thracians for the third assault. his own special standard, the "general's banner," he commanded to be borne before them. it was a mighty, a menacing spectacle. the tuba of the romans blared to greet the standard of the commanding general. the byzantines, in firmly closed ranks, advanced like a moving wall of bronze, their long lances levelled. zazo saw that his men hesitated. "forward! cross the stream! on to the attack!" he dashed on in advance of his troops. but he soon perceived that only a very few--the gundings and their boar-helmeted kinsmen--were following. "forward!" he commanded again. but the vandals delayed. they felt that the rush down from the height had made their success far easier; they did not wish to leave the vantage-ground, and--they had seen belisarius in the distance. the ranks of levelled lances, terrible, threatening, drew nearer and nearer. "if we only had our spears!" cried voices in the ranks behind him. the byzantines had already reached the stream; now they were wading through the marshy rivulet,--yet the vandals on the heights did not obey the command to charge. "you _will_ not cross?" cried zazo, furiously. "then you _must_!" with these words he tore genseric's dragon banner from the hand of the horseman at his right and shouting: "bring back the standard and your honor!" he hurled it with all his strength across the stream into the midst of the byzantines. loud cries rose from friends and enemies. one of the byzantines instantly snatched the banner from the ground, raised it aloft, and was hurrying with it to belisarius. but he did not go far. for when they saw the treasure of the kingdom in the hands of the foe, all the vandals, on horseback and on foot, following their nobles, rushed down the slope into the stream and the midst of the enemy. by zazo's side, on a powerful stallion, rode a strange figure,--a monk without helmet, shield, or breastplate; he wore a gray cowl and carried a sword. breaking a passage through the hostile ranks, he reached the captor of the scarlet banner, tore it from his hand, and, with a single sword-stroke, cleft helmet and skull. it was valerianus, the commander of the lance-bearers. the victor swung the rescued standard high aloft, and instantly fell from his horse, pierced by five lances. but gundobad, the gunding, raised the banner from the hand of the sinking figure. "here, to the rescue," he shouted, "kinsmen of the gundings! here, you boars!" immediately his brother and the whole troop of boar helms gathered around him; the banner and its bearer were cut out for the moment. the ranks of the foe nearest to the vandal banner wavered, yielded. "victory!" shouted the vandals, pressing boldly forward, singing,-- "forward to battle! follow the standard, the fame-heralded consort of victory." they struck their sword-blades on their shields till the sound echoed far and wide. "victory!" cried hilda, exultantly, as she witnessed the whole magnificent spectacle. chapter xv belisarius also witnessed it from his station on the hill. "fly," he cried to procopius; "fly to fara and the herulians! they must swing to the left and take those red rags." "and the huns?" asked procopius under his breath. "look yonder; they are riding slowly forward, but not westward, not against the vandals." "obey! this german war dance around the red banner must first be put to a bloody end, or their teutonic battle fiend will take possession of them, and then all is over. my face alone will keep the huns in check, should there be need of it." meanwhile the dragon banner had again changed bearers. all the lances and arrows were aimed at the dangerous emblem, visible far and wide. gundobad's horse fell; its rider did not rise again. but his brother gundomar took the standard from the dying noble's hand and ran the point of its shaft into the throat of cyprianus, the second leader of the thracians, whose battle-axe had cleft gundobad's helmet and head as he tried to spring up from his dead charger. hilda had seen the red banner disappear for a moment, and anxiously gave her stallion a light blow with her hand. the fiery animal shot forward in frantic haste; not until she reached the edge of the stream could the princess draw rein. her companions gained the new position much later. althias now reached the second gunding. unequal, unfavorable to every bearer of the standard was the conflict. his left hand, holding the bridle and the heavy standard, could not use the shield, and this burden also impeded very considerably the action of his right arm in defence. after a short struggle gundomar, transfixed by the thracian's spear, sank from his horse. but gibamund was already on the spot, and zazo, dashing close behind him, no sooner saw the standard safe in his brother's hand than he shouted, "belisarius has a banner too." turning swiftly to the left, by the mere weight of his horse he burst through a rank of the thracians, reached belisarius's bodyguard, who bore the gold-embroidered standard, and, with a sword-stroke through the front of the helmet into his brow, felled him. the roman general's banner sank, while gibamund, surrounded and protected by his band of picked warriors, waved the scarlet dragon standard high in the air. hilda saw it distinctly. involuntarily she obeyed the impulse to go forward after the victory. the stallion, yielding to the lightest movement, bore her across the stream, whose water barely wet the edge of her long white robe. she was on the other side. she was pursuing victory. before her, a little to the left, she already saw gelimer and his troops; the whole vandal centre was advancing. it was the crisis, the turning-point of the battle. again althias tried to force his way through the vandal ranks to gibamund himself; he had almost reached him, and they had exchanged two whizzing sword-strokes, which made the sparks fly from their blades, when from the left cries of grief and rage fell on the thracian's ear from the byzantines. he turned, and saw his general's banner sink. this was the second time; for zazo had already struck down the second man who bore it. the victor was stretching his hand toward the shaft, which no third man seemed inclined to lift. just at that moment, close at hand on the right, german horns sounded in zazo's ears. the herulians, dashing on their snorting horses upon the vandals' flank, broke through several of their ranks to their leader. a spear--well aimed, for fara had hurled it--shattered the buffalo helm on the hero's head. he could no longer think of belisarius's banner. he was obliged to consider his own safety. "help, brother gelimer!" he shouted. "i am here, brother zazo," rang the answer. for the king was already at hand. slowly following the advance of the brothers, he had led his vandals and moors nearer and nearer, and noticed the second charge and the moment of peril. "forward! cut zazo out," he shouted, dashing upon the herulians at the head of his men. a warrior sprang to meet him, clutched the bridle of the cream-colored charger with his left hand, and aimed his spear with the right. before it flew, gelimer's sword had pierced the herulian's throat. hilda saw it; for, as if irresistibly attracted by the battle, she rode nearer and nearer. just at this moment she perceived verus in full priestly robes, unarmed, dash past her straight to the king. it was no easy task to force a passage to his side through the moors and vandals. gelimer struck down a second spear-man, a third. already he was close to zazo. the charge of his vandals now came full upon the herulians. the latter did not yield, but they no longer gained a foot of ground. as two wrestlers, with arms interlocked, each unable to move the other from the spot, measure equal strength, the german warriors surged to and fro. victory hung in the balance. "where are the foot-soldiers?" asked belisarius, glancing anxiously toward the distant heights where the numidian road extended toward carthage. "i have sent out three messengers," answered procopius. "there! the thracians are yielding! the armenians are falling back! the herulians are now pressed by greatly superior numbers." "forward, illyrians, save the battle for me. belisarius himself will lead you--" and with a loud blare of trumpets, the general dashed down the hill to the aid of the herulians. gelimer heard the flourish, saw the charge, and summoned reinforcements from the rearguard. "there," he shouted, pointing with his sword, "and join me in the battle-song, "vengeance is preparing the avenger of right." "you here, verus? what news do you bring? your face is--" "o king!" cried the priest, "what blood-guiltiness!" "what has happened?" "the messenger i sent to the prisoners--one of my freedmen--misunderstood your words: 'have them taken away, where no one can free them.'" "well?" "he has--he reported it to me, and fled when he saw my wrath." "well, what is it?" "he has--killed hilderic and euages." "omniscient god!" cried the king, paling. "that was not my wish." "but still more," verus went on. "help, gelimer!" zazo's voice shouted from the densest ranks of the conflict. belisarius and his illyrians had now reached him. gibamund was by his side. gelimer also spurred his horse. but verus grasped his bridle, shouting in his ear: "the letter, the warning to hilderic--i found it just now, wedged between two drawers in the coffer. here it is. hilderic did not lie! he only wished to protect himself against you. innocent--he was deposed, imprisoned, slain!" gelimer, speechless with horror, stared for a moment into the priest's stony face; he seemed stupefied. then the battle-song of his men echoed in his ears:-- "vengeance is preparing high in the heavens the avenger of right!" "woe, woe is me! i am a criminal, a murderer," the king shrieked aloud. the sword slipped from his grasp. he covered his face with both hands. a terrible convulsion shook him. he seemed falling from the saddle. verus supported him, wheeled the king's horse so that his back was toward the foe, and gave the animal a blow on the hind quarter with all his strength. the charger dashed madly away. sersaon and markomer, the leaders of the cavalry, supported the swaying figure on the right and left. "help! help! i am being overcome, brother gelimer!" zazo's voice again rose,--more urgently, nay, despairingly. but it was drowned by the wild, frantic cries of the vandals. "fly! fly! the king himself has fled! fly! save the women, the children!" and the vandals, by hundreds, now wheeled their horses and dashed away toward the stream and the camp. then hilda, now only a few paces from the tumult, saw zazo's towering figure disappear. his horse, pierced by a spear, fell; it was bleeding from more than one wound. but the hero sprang up again. fara the herulian reached him from the left, and cleft his dragon-shield with his battle-axe. zazo flung the pieces at the helmet of the herulian, stunning him so that he swayed in his saddle. now barbatus, the illyrian leader, his long lance levelled, pressed upon zazo from the right. with his last strength zazo pushed it aside, sprang to the right, the shieldless side of the rider, and thrust his sword into his neck between the helmet and breastplate. barbatus sank slowly from the saddle toward the left. but, in springing back, zazo had fallen on his knees. before he could rise, two horsemen with levelled lances stood before him. "help, gibamund!" called the kneeling prince, raising his left arm above his head in place of a shield. he looked around. everywhere foes, no vandal. yes,--one. yonder still waved the scarlet banner. "help, gibamund!" he cried. one of his two assailants fell from his horse. gibamund was at zazo's side. he had struck the man under the shoulder of his upraised arm with the spear-point of the banner staff. but now fara, who meanwhile had recovered from zazo's blow, dropping his bridle, grasped with his left hand at the shaft of the scarlet standard. with great difficulty gibamund defended himself with his sword against the tremendous blows the herulian's right arm dealt with his battle-axe. and already the other horseman, in front of zazo, bent a leonine face toward him. "yield, brave man. yield to me. i am belisarius." but zazo shook his head. with failing strength he sprang up, his sword raised to strike. then the roman general drove the point of his spear with all his force through his breastplate up to the handle. the dying warrior cast one more glance toward the left. he saw gibamund's white horse, covered with blood-stains, falling; he saw the scarlet banner sink. "woe betide thee, vandalia!" he cried, as his eyes grew dim in death. "that was indeed a hero," said belisarius, bending over him. "where is genseric's banner, fara?" "gone!" replied the latter, wrathfully. "far away. do you see? it is already vanishing over there, beyond the stream." "who has--?" "a woman. in a falcon helmet. with a shining white shield. i believe it was a valkyria," said the pagan, with a slight shiver of fear. "it happened so swiftly i scarcely saw it. i had just struck down the young standard-bearer's horse. just at that moment a black steed--i never saw such an animal--plunged against my own horse so that it fell back upon its haunches. i heard a cry: 'hilda! i thank you!' at the same moment the black charger dashed far, far away from me. i think it now carried two figures! a long fluttering white mantle--or was it swan-wings?--and above floated the scarlet banner. there, now they are vanishing in that cloud of dust. 'hilda!' the german murmured to himself. the name suits too. yes, the valkyria bore him away." "forward!" shouted belisarius. "follow! over the stream! there is no longer a vandal army. the centre is broken and defeated. their left wing--aha, look yonder, our right wing, the faithful huns--" he laughed grimly. "now they are rushing from their hill, hewing down the flying barbarians. what heroism! and how they are all struggling to reach the camp to plunder! now, at last, our infantry have joined our left wing; there, too, the vandals are flying without a struggle. on, to the camp! do not let the huns secure the whole booty. all the gold and silver for the emperor, the pearls and precious stones for the empress! forward!" chapter xvi procopius to cethegus: i have witnessed many a battle, many a conflict of belisarius,--usually from a very safe distance,--but never have i seen so strange an encounter. in this, which decides the fate of the vandal kingdom, we have lost in all only forty-nine men, but solely picked warriors, and among them eight commanders. fara, althias, and johannes,--all three are wounded. yet we have not many--perhaps a hundred--wounded men, as the vandals fought only with the sword. that yields almost as many killed as wounded. most of our dead and wounded may be credited to the three asdings, two noblemen in boar helmets, and an apparently crazy monk. eight hundred vandal corpses covered the field, by far the larger number of these fell during the flight. we have captured, sound and wounded, about ten thousand men; women and children unnumbered. in our two wings we did not lose a single warrior, except one hun whom belisarius was unfortunately compelled to hang. he had stuffed pockets, shoes, hair, and ears with pearls and gems which he picked up in the vandal camp, especially in the women's tents, and which our empress has honestly earned. our pursuit of the vandals was checked only by our greed. the fallen and captive vandals had many ornaments of gold and silver on their persons, their horses, and themselves; our heroes plundered every one before passing on. our horsemen, who reached the camp first, did not venture, in spite of their longing to pillage, to enter it at once; they thought it impossible that a force so superior in numbers should not defend their own camp, their wives and children. the king is said to have paused a moment as if stupefied; but when belisarius with our whole body appeared before the tents, he exclaimed, "the avenger!" and pursued his flight toward numidia, attended by a few relatives, servants, and faithful moors. now all the vandal warriors who had reached the camp scattered in wild confusion, surrendering their shrieking children, their weeping wives, their rich possessions, without a single sword-stroke; and these men are, or were, germans! it would be no wonder if justinian should now try at once to liberate italy and spain from the goths. our men dashed after the fugitives. all the rest of the day and the whole moonlight night they slaughtered the vandals without resistance; they seized women and children by thousands to use them as slaves. never yet have i beheld so much beauty. nor have i ever seen such heaps of gold and silver money as in the tents of the king and the vandal nobles. it is incredible. belisarius was tortured after his victory by the most terrible anxiety. for in this camp, filled to overflowing with the most beautiful women, treasures of every description, wine and provisions, the whole army forgot every trace of discipline. fairly intoxicated with their undreamed of good fortune, they lived solely for the pleasure of the moment; every barrier gave way, every curb broke; they could not satisfy themselves. the demon of africa, pleasure, seized upon them. they roved, singly and in couples, through the camp and its vicinity, following the track of the fugitives wherever the search for booty or revelry lured them. there was no thought of the enemy, no fear of the general. those who were still sober, laden with treasure and driving their captives before them, tried to escape to carthage. belisarius says that if the vandals had attacked us again an hour after we took possession of their camp, not a man of us all would have escaped. the victorious army, even his bodyguard, had entirely thrown off his control. at the gray dawn of morning with the blast of the trumpets he summoned all the warriors; that is, all who were sober. his bodyguard now came hastily in deep shame. instead of thanks and praise, he gave leaders and men a lecture such as i never before heard from his lips. we have become mere hired soldiers, adventurers, ruffians, fierce and brave, like greedy beasts of prey; well suited for bloody pursuit, like hunting leopards, but not fit to leave the captured game to the hunter or bring it in and fasten it in a cage; we must first have our share of the blood and the food. it is by no means beautiful; yet it is far more enjoyable than philosophy and theology, rhetoric, grammar, and dialectics. but the vandal war is over, i think. to-morrow we shall doubtless capture the fugitive king. * * * * * i always say so. the most weighty decisions hinge upon the most trivial incidents. or, as i express it when i am in a very poetical mood, the goddess tyche likes to sport with the destinies of men and nations, as boys toss coins in the air and determine gain and loss by "heads" or "tails." you, o cethegus, have condemned my philosophy of the world's history as old wives' croaking. but judge for yourself. a bird's cry, a blind delight in hunting, a shot sent to the wrong mark, and the result is this: the vandal king escapes when already within the grasp of our fingers; the campaign, which seemed ended, continues, and your friend must spend weeks in an extremely tiresome besieging camp before an extremely unnecessary moorish mountain village. belisarius had committed the pursuit of the fugitive king to his countryman, the thracian althias. "i choose you," he said, "because i trust you above all others where swift, tireless action is needed. if you overtake the vandal before he finds refuge, the war will be over tomorrow; if you permit him to escape, you will give us long-continued severe toil. choose your own men, but do not take time to breathe by night or day until you seize the tyrant, dead or alive." althias blushed like a flattered girl. he took besides his thracians several of the bodyguard and about a hundred herulians under fara. he asked me also to accompany him, less, probably, for the sake of my sword than my counsel. i willingly consented. and now a flying chase, such as i had never imagined possible, began in the rear of the vandals. five days and five nights, almost without a pause, we pursued the fugitives; their hoofmarks and footprints in the sand of the desert were unmistakable. we gained on them more and more, so that on the fifth night we were sure of overtaking and stopping them the next day before they reached the protection of the mountain--pappua, it is called. but the capricious goddess did not wish to have gelimer fall into the hands of althias. uliari, one of the alemanni bodyguards of belisarius, is a brave, strong man, but reckless, fond of drink like all germans, and, like nearly all his countrymen, a passionate lover of the chase. he had been repeatedly punished because, while on the march, he pursued every animal that appeared. on the morning of the sixth day, just at sunrise, as we were remounting our horses after a short rest, uliari saw a big vulture perched on a prickly bush about the height of a man, which rose alone from the desert plain. to seize his bow, snatch an arrow from the quiver, aim, and shoot was the work of a single instant. the cord twanged, the bird flew away, a cry rose. althias, who had again dashed forward in advance of us all, fell from his horse, wounded in the back of the head under his helmet. uliari, usually an unerring marksman, had not yet slept off his potations of the night before. horrified by his deed, he set spurs to his horse and fled to the nearest village to seek sanctuary in its chapel. but we were all trying to help the dying althias, though he commanded us by signs to leave him to his fate and continue the pursuit. we could not bring ourselves to do it. nay, when fara and i, after our friend had died in our arms, wished to go on; his thracians demanded with threats that the body should first be buried, otherwise the soul would be condemned to wail around the place until the day of judgment. so we dug a grave and interred the dead hero with every honor. these few hours decided gelimer's escape; we could not make up the lost time. the fugitives reached their goal, the pappua mountains on the frontier of numidia, whose steep, inaccessible peaks everywhere bristle with jagged rocks. the moors who dwell here are bound to gelimer by ties of loyalty and gratitude. an ancient city, medenus, now a mere hamlet of a few huts on the northern crest of the mountain, received him and his train. to storm this narrow antelope path is impossible; a single man can bar the ascent with his shield. the moors have scornfully rejected an offer of a large reward to deliver up the fugitives. so the watchword is "patience." we must pitch our tents at the foot of the mountain, bar all the outlets, and starve the people into a surrender. that may occupy a great deal of time. and it is winter; the mountain peaks are often covered in the morning with a light snow, which, it is true, the sun soon melts when he breaks through the clouds. but he does not always break through. on the other hand, mist and rain continually penetrate the camel-skin coverings of our tents. chapter xvii we are still encamped before the entrance of the mountain ravine of pappua. we cannot get in; they cannot get out. i have seen a cat watch a mouse-hole a long time in the same way,--very tiresome for the cat. but if the hole has no other outlet, the little mouse finally either starves or runs into the cat's claws. to-day news and reinforcements came from carthage. belisarius, who had been informed of the state of affairs, gave the chief command to fara in the place of althias. fara and his herulians won belisarius's most glorious victory, in the persian battle at dara, when the roman ranks were beginning to waver and only the german boldness which is nearly allied to madness could save the day. fara left more than half his herulians dead on the field. the general himself is marching on hippo. * * * * * fresh news--from hippo. belisarius took the city without resistance. the vandals, among them numerous nobles, fled to the catholic churches, and left these asylums only on the assurance that their lives would be spared. and again the wind blew, literally, rich gains into our hands. the tyrant, distrusting the fidelity of the citizens and the broken walls, had prudently removed the royal treasure of the vandals from the citadel of carthage, and placed it on a ship. he ordered bonifacius, his private secretary, in case the victory of the vandals seemed uncertain, to sail to hispania to theudis, the king of the visigoths, with whom, if the kingdom fell, gelimer intended to seek refuge, perhaps with the expectation of recovering the treasure by the aid of the visigoths. a violent storm drove the ship back into the harbor of hippo, just after belisarius had occupied it. the treasure of the vandals, gathered by genseric from the coasts and islands of three seas, will go into the hands of the imperial pair at constantinople. theodora, your piety is profitable! yet no; the royal treasure of the vandals will not reach constantinople absolutely intact. and this is due to a singular circumstance, which is probably worth relating. perhaps, too, i may mention the thoughts which the incident aroused in my mind. of all the nations of whom i have any knowledge, the germans are the most foolish: these fair-haired giants blindly follow their impulses and run to open ruin. true, these impulses and delusions are in a measure honorable--for barbarians. but the excess, the fury with which they obey their impulses, must ruin them, aided by their so-called virtues. "heroism," as they term it, they carry to the sheerest absurdity, even to contempt of death, keeping their promises from mere obstinacy; for instance, when, in the blind excitement of gambling, they stake their own liberty on the last throw. they call this fidelity. sometimes they manifest the most diabolical craftiness, yet they often carry truthfulness to actual self-destruction, when a neat little lie, a slight, clever manipulation of the bald truth, or even a calm silence would surely save them. all this is by no means rooted in a sense of duty, but in their tameless pride, in arrogance, in defiance; and they call it honor. the key of all their actions, their final unspoken motive is this: "let none think, far less be able to say, that a german does or fails to do anything because he fears any man, or any number of men; he would rather rush to certain death." therefore, no matter what any one of these stubborn fools may have set his heart upon, to go to destruction for it is "heroic," "honorable." true, they often set their hearts on their people, liberty, fame; but just as frequently on swilling,--it cannot be called drinking,--on brawling, on dice-throwing. and they pursue the heroism of swilling and gambling just as blindly as that of battle. anything rather than to yield! if "honor" (that is, obstinacy) is once fixed upon anything,--wise or foolish,--then pursue it even to destruction. though pleasure in the game has long been exhausted, out-drink or out-wrestle the other man; do anything but own that strength and spirit are consumed; rather die thrice over. i can speak thus, because i know these germans. many thousands of them--from nearly every one of their numerous tribes--have i seen in war and peace, as soldiers, prisoners, envoys, hostages, mercenaries, colonists, in the service of the emperor, as leaders of the army, and as magistrates. i have long wondered how any germans are left; for, in truth, their virtues vie with their vices in hastening their destruction. of all the nations i know, the shrewdest are the jews, if shrewdness consists first in the art of self-preservation, and then in the acquisition and increase of worldly goods. they are the least, as the germans are the most ready, to rush upon ruin through blind passion, through noble or ignoble impetuosity and defiance. they are the most crafty of mortals and at the same time by no means the worst. but they are clever to a degree which makes one marvel why they did not long ago rule all other peoples; something must be lacking there too. do you ask, o cethegus, how in the camp of belisarius before mount pappua i have attained this singular view of the much-despised hebrews? very simply. they have accomplished something which i consider the most impossible. they have not plundered; by no means, not even stolen, for they steal almost less than the christians; but they have actually talked many thousand pounds of gold belonging to the vandal booty out of the avaricious hands of the emperor justinian. the emperor titus, after the fall of jerusalem, brought to rome the treasures of the jewish temple,--candlesticks, vessels, dishes, jugs, and all sorts of gold and silver articles set with pearls and precious stones. when genseric pillaged rome, he bore away the temple treasures on his corsair ships to carthage. the empress knew this, and probably it was not the least of the reasons for which the bishop was compelled to dream. belisarius wished to exhibit all the booty on his entrance into constantinople; but when it was unloaded at hippo, to be taken at once, with the rest of the treasure, to carthage, the oldest of the jews in hippo went to him and said: "let me warn you, mighty warrior! do not convey these treasures to constantinople. listen to a tale from the lips of your humble servant. "the eagle stole from the sacrifice burning on the altar a piece of meat and bore it to his eyrie. but a few glimmering coals clung to the offering which had been consecrated to god. and these glimmering coals set fire to the nest of the great bird of prey, and burned the young, which were not yet able to fly, and the eagle mother. the male eagle, trying to save the young brood, dashed into the flames and scorched his wings. so perished miserably the strong robber that had borne to his own abode what belonged to god. indeed, indeed, i tell you, the capitol of rome fell into the hands of the foe because it contained the sacred vessels of jehovah; the citadel of the vandals fell into the hands of the foe because it concealed these treasures. must the stronghold of the emperor--god bless the protector of justice--at constantinople become the third eyrie which is destroyed for their sake? in truth i say unto you, thus saith the lord: this gold, this silver, will wander over the earth, will destroy all the cities to which the stolen treasure is dragged, until the gold and the silver again lie in the holy city, jerusalem." and, lo, belisarius was startled. he wrote to the emperor justinian the story of the old jew, and--really and truly--the patriarch moses can work still greater miracles than saint cyprian. justinian, more greedy and avaricious than the whole race of jews put together, ordered these treasures to be taken, not to constantinople, but jerusalem, where they are to be divided among the christian churches and the jewish synagogues. so the old jew has recovered a portion of the treasures of his people,--without a single sword-stroke,--while romans, vandals, byzantines, gained them only after fierce battles and much bloodshed. does the old man believe in the curse that rests upon the treasure? i think he does. he does not lie, and it is useful for his purpose to believe it; so he credits it easily and seriously. the german says: "gain by blood rather than by sweat." the jew says: "gain by sweat rather than by blood, and far, far rather by money than by sweat!" it may be said in praise of the jews that both their faults and their virtues vie in preserving them and increasing their wealth and their numbers, while the germans destroy themselves, their lives, their possessions, and their power by boundless indolence and boundless revelling no less than by their boundless obstinacy and their stupid heroism of honor. (true, these vandals in their carousing have even forgotten their obstinacy and their love of fighting!) we hate and despise the jews; i think we ought to fear and--in their good qualities strive to excel them. * * * * * i have read aloud my opinion of the germans to my friend fara, whose thirst for honor did not impel him toward reading and writing; he heard me quietly to the end, drained a cup of unmixed wine, stroked his long reddish-yellow beard thoughtfully, and said: "little greek! you are a shrewd little greek! perhaps you are not altogether wrong. but to me my german faults are much dearer than the virtues of all other nations." gradually--so we learn--all the rest of the barbarian kingdom will be plucked leaf by leaf, like an artichoke, without a sword-stroke, for justinian's wide-open mouth. belisarius's first care, after his victory over the land forces, was to secure the hostile fleet. he discovered its landing-place from the prisoners, and also learned that it was lying at anchor almost wholly without men; zazo had taken all his troops to his brother. a few of our triremes, sent from carthage, were sufficient to capture the one hundred and fifty galleys which were occupied only by sailors; not a single spear flew. genseric's much-dreaded dragon-ships were towed to carthage; they allowed themselves to be captured without resistance, like a flock of wild swans, which, storm-beaten, wearied, and crippled, enter an inclosed pond; the proud birds can be grasped with the hand. one of belisarius's commanders obtained sardinia; it was necessary, but amply sufficient, to show them zazo's head on a spear; the islanders would not believe in the defeat of the vandals before; now that they could touch the head of their dreaded conqueror, they did believe it. corsica, too, submitted. also populous cæsarea in mauritania, and one of the pillars of hercules; septa, with ebusa and the balearic isles. tripolis was besieged by moors, who, during the battle between the byzantines and the vandals, were trying to win land and people on their own account. the city was occupied by our troops and received from the hands of pudentius for the emperor. one might think the whole vandal nation existed in its royal family and a few of the nobles. when zazo and the nobles about him fell, after the king vanished, all resistance ceased; it was like a bundle of sticks: when the string that fastens them is cut, they all fall apart. since the day of trikameron the barbarians everywhere allow themselves to be seized like sheep without defence. they are mainly to be found weaponless in the catholic basilicas, where, seeking refuge, they embrace the altars which they have so often dishonored. the men are just the same as the women and children. really, if their brothers in italy and spain, and their cousins, the franks, alemanni, or whatever else the barbarians in gaul and germany are called, were as highly educated as these vandal writers of greek and latin poetry, the imperator justinianus could speedily recover the whole west through belisarius and narses. but i fear the vandals alone have attained such a degree of culture. chapter xviii more news! perhaps another war and conquest close at hand. am i really, o cethegus, to be permitted speedily to seek you in your italy and help to free rome by the aid of huns and herulians? your tyrants, the ostrogoths, have made the bridge for us into this country; it was their sicily. justinian's gratitude is swift-winged. by the emperor's command--belisarius received it sealed, directly after our departure from constantinople, with the direction not to open the papyrus until after the destruction of the vandal kingdom--our general has already demanded from the court of ravenna the cession of a considerable portion of sicily,--lilybæum, the important promontory and castle, and all that the vandals had ever possessed in that island. for the vandal kingdom had now lapsed to constantinople, so everything that had ever belonged to that domain also fell to it. a man is not emperor of the pandects for nothing. true, it seems to me somewhat brutal to set their limitless stupidity before the eyes of the deluded people quite so speedily. though of course it is the acme of statecraft to defeat the first with the help of the second, and then, in token of gratitude, overthrow the second. yet it is long since it was done so openly. belisarius is obliged to threaten war at once, not only upon sicily, but all italy, ravenna, and rome. the letter to the regent amalaswintha concludes,--i had to compose it for belisarius in his tent, according to the emperor's secret order directly after the battle of trikameron: "if you refuse, you must know that you will not incur merely the _danger_ of war, but war itself, in which we shall take from you not only lilybæum, but everything you possess contrary to justice; that is, all!" to-day came the news that there had been a revolution in ravenna. very wicked men, who had already wished to support the vandals against us, do not love justinian (but also unfortunately do not fear him), barbaric names,--you will be more familiar with them than i, o cethegus! hildebrand, vitigis, teja, have seized the helm there and flatly refuse our demand. it seems to me that there is the blast of the tuba in the air. but first of all we must subdue this vandal king without a kingdom up above there. the siege is lasting too long for the patience of belisarius. hitherto all proposals for surrender have been refused, even those on the most absurdly favorable conditions, made because belisarius desires to bring the war here swiftly to an end, as it seems to me that he may be able speedily to celebrate a triumph in constantinople such as has not been witnessed there for centuries, and then continue in italy what he had begun here. and since this singular king, who sometimes seems to be soft wax, sometimes the hardest granite, is not to be influenced by fair words, we will address him to-morrow with spears. fara hopes that hunger has so enfeebled the vandals and moors that they cannot withstand a violent assault. the truth is: fara, a german,--and a thoroughly admirable one,--can endure everything except long-continued thirst and inactivity. and we have very little wine left. poor wine too! there is nothing to do except by turns to sleep and mount guard before the mouse-hole called pappua. he is tired of it. he wants to take it by force. the herulians will fight like madmen; that is their way. but i look at the narrow ascent in those yellow cliffs, and have my doubts of success. i think, unless saint cyprian and tyche work in our behalf to-morrow, we shall get, not gelimer and the vandals, but plenty of hard knocks. we have had them,--the hard knocks! and they were our just due. the vandals and moors up yonder vied with each other in trying which could serve us worst, and we paid the penalty. fara, as leader and warrior, managed matters as well as it is possible to do in dealing with the impossible. he divided us into three bodies: first, the armenians, then the thracians, lastly, the herulians. the huns--whose horses can do much, but cannot climb like goats--remained below before our camp. in bands of two hundred strong we rushed in a long line of two men abreast up the only accessible path. i will make the story short. the moors rolled rocks, the vandals hurled spears, at us. twenty armenians fell without having even seen the crest of a foeman's helmet; the others drew back. the thracians, despising death, took their places. they advanced probably a hundred feet higher; by that time they had lost thirty-five of their number, had not seen an enemy, and also turned back. "cowardice," cried fara. "it is impossible," replied arzen, the severely wounded leader of the armenians,--a vandal spear with the house-mark of the asdings, a flying arrow, had pierced his thigh. "i don't believe it," shouted fara, "follow me, my herulians." they followed him. so did i; but very near the last of the line. for, as the legal councillor of belisarius, i do not consider myself under obligation to perform any deeds of special heroism. only when he himself fights do i often foolishly imagine that my place is by his side. i have never seen such a storm. fragments of boulders and lances hurled by invisible hands crushed and spitted the men. but those who were left climbed, leaped, crept higher and higher. the top of the mountain--which neither of the two former scaling parties had approached--was gained. the hiding-places of many of the moors concealed under the cliffs of the central portion were discovered, and numbers of these lean brown fellows paid for their loyal hospitality to the fugitives with their lives; i saw fara himself kill three of them. he was just ranging his breathless band, and on the point of giving the order to rush up to the narrow gateway in the rocks that yawns in the mountain summit, when from this gateway burst the vandals, the king in advance; the crown on his helmet betrayed him. i saw him very close at hand, and never shall i forget that face. he looked like a rapturous monk, and yet also like the hero zazo, whom i saw fall before belisarius. behind him was a youth who strongly resembled him. the scarlet banner, i believe, was borne by a woman. yet i am probably mistaken; for the whole charge fell upon us with the speed and might of a thunderbolt. the first rank of the herulians was scattered as completely as if it had never stood there. "where is the king?" cried fara, springing forward. "here," rang the answer. the next instant five of his herulians were supporting their sorely wounded leader. this i saw, then i fell backward. the young vandal behind the king had sent his spear whizzing against my firm coat of mail; i staggered, fell, and slid like an arrow down the smooth sandy incline, much faster and more easily than i had climbed it. when i came to myself and rose again, fara's faithful followers were bearing him past me on two shields. the leader of the armenians was leaning on his spear. "do you believe it now, fara?" he asked. "yes," replied the german, pressing his bleeding head. "i believe it now. my beautiful helmet," he went on, laughing. "but better to have the helmet cleft than the skull under it, too." when he reached the bottom of the mountain he laughed no longer; one hundred and twenty of his two hundred herulians lay dead among the rocks. i think this will be the only storming of mount pappua. * * * * * fara's wound is healing. but he complains a great deal of headache. * * * * * they must be miserably starving to death on that accursed mountain. deserters often come down now, but only moors. not a single vandal during the whole campaign has voluntarily joined us, in spite of my fine invitation to treason and revolt! of the much-lauded german virtues fidelity seems to be almost the only one which has remained to these degenerates. fara gave orders that no more should be received. "the more mouths and stomachs gelimer has, the smaller his stock of food will be," he said. but now, as they will no longer be accepted as comrades in arms, the moors sell themselves for slaves for a bit of bread. fara also prohibited this sorrowful trading. he said to his men: "let them starve up there; you will get them all as captives of war so much the sooner." yet it does the vandals (it is said that there are not more than forty of them) all honor that they still hold out while the moors succumb. it is the strongest contrast conceivable; for everything we heard in constantinople concerning the luxury and effeminacy of the vandals was surpassed by what we saw in their palaces, villas, and houses, and by what the carthaginians have told us. two or three baths daily, their tables supplied with the dainties of all lands and seas, all their dishes of gold, nothing but median garments, spectacles, games in the circus, the chase,--but with the least possible exertion,--dancers, mimes, musicians, outdoor pleasures in beautifully kept groves of the finest fruit-trees, daily revels, daily drinking bouts, and the most unbridled enjoyment of every description. as the vandals led the most luxurious, the moors led the most simple lives of all peoples. winter and summer, they are half clad in a short gray garment, and live in the same low felt hut or leather tents, where one can scarcely breathe; neither the snow of the high mountains nor the scorching heat of the desert affects them; they sleep on the bare ground, only the richest spread a camel-skin under them; they have neither bread, wine, nor any of the better foods. like the animals, they chew unground, even unroasted barley, spelt, and corn. yet now the vandals endure starvation without yielding, while the moors succumb. it is incomprehensible! sons of the same nation from whom, in two short battles, we wrested africa. to our wondering question how this can be, all the deserters make one reply: "the holy king." he constrains them by his eyes, his voice, by magic. but fara says his magic cannot hold out long against hunger and thirst. and since, as these strong moors, emaciated to skeletons, say that the king and his followers do not utter a word of complaint while enduring these sufferings, fara thought, from genuine kindness of heart, that he would try to end this misery. he dictated to me the following epistle: "forgive me, o king of the vandals, if this letter seems to you somewhat foolish. my head was always more fit to bear sword-strokes than to compose sentences. and since you and my head met a short time ago, thinking has been still more difficult than usual. i write, or rather i have these words written, plainly, according to the barbarian fashion. dear gelimer, why do you plunge yourself and all your followers into the deepest abyss of misery? merely to avoid serving the emperor? for this word, 'liberty,' is probably your delusion. do you not see that, for the sake of this liberty, you are becoming under obligations of gratitude and service to miserable moors, that you are dependent upon these savages? is it not better to serve the great emperor at constantinople, than to rule over a little band of starving people on pappua? is it disgraceful to serve the same lord as belisarius? cast aside this folly, admirable gelimer! think, i myself am a german, a member of a noble herulian family. my ancestors wore the badge of royalty of our people in the old home on the shore of the dashing sea, near the islands of the danes--and yet i serve the emperor, and am proud of it. my sword and the swift daring of my herulians decided the victory on the day of belisarius's greatest battle. i am a general, and have remained a hero, even in the emperor's service. the same fate will await you. belisarius will secure you on his word of honor life, liberty, estates in asia minor, the rank of a patrician, and a leadership in the army directly under him. dear gelimer, noble king, i mean kindly by you. defiance is beautiful, but folly is--foolish. make an end of it!" * * * * * the messenger has returned. he saw the king himself. he says the sight of him was almost enough to startle one to death. he looks like a ghost or the king of shades; gloomy eyes burn from a spectral face. yet when the unyielding hero read the well-meant consolation of his kind-hearted fellow-countryman, he wept. the very man who struck down the unconquerable fara and endures superhuman privations wept like a boy or a woman. here is the vandal's answer:-- "i thank you for your counsel. i cannot follow it. you have given up your people; therefore you are drifting on the sea of the world like a blade of straw. i was, i am king of the vandals. i will not serve the unjust foe of my people. god, so i believe, commands me and the remnant of the vandals to hold out even now. he can save me if he so wills. i can write no more. the misery surrounding me benumbs my thoughts. good fara, send me a loaf of bread; a delicate boy, the son of a dead noble, is lying very ill, in the fever caused by starvation. he begs, he pleads, he shrieks for bread--it tears one's heart-strings! for a long time not one of us has tasted bread. "and a sponge dipped in water; my eyes, inflamed by watching and weeping, burn painfully. "and a harp. i have composed a dirge upon our fate, which i would fain sing to the accompaniment of the harp." fara granted the three requests,--the harp could be obtained only by sending to the nearest city,--but he guards even more closely than before the "mountain of misery," as our people call it. chapter xix dull, misty, and gray, a cold damp morning in early march dawned upon the mountain. the sun could not penetrate the dense clouds. the ancient city of medenus had long since been abandoned by its carthaginian and roman founders and builders. most of the houses, constructed of stone from the mountain, stood deserted and ruinous. nomad moors used the few which still had roofs as places of refuge in winter. the largest structure was the former basilica. here the king and his household had found shelter. a scanty fire of straw and fagots was burning in the centre on the stone floor. but it sent forth more smoke than heat, for the wood was wet, and the damp fog penetrated everywhere through the cracks in the walls, through the holes in the roof, pressing down the slowly rising yellowish-gray smoke till, trailing and gliding along the cold wall, it sought other means of escape through the entrance, whose folding-doors were missing. in the semicircular space back of the apses coverlets and skins had been spread upon the marble floor. here sat gibamund, hammering upon his much-dented shield, while hilda had laid the scarlet standard across her lap, and was mending it. "many, many arrows have pierced thee, ancient, storm-tried banner. and this gaping rent here,--it was probably a sword-stroke. but thou must still hold together to the end." "the end," said gibamund, impatiently completing the nailing of the edge of the shield with one last blow of the hammer. "i wish it would come. i can bear to witness the suffering--_your_ suffering--no longer. i have constantly urged the king to put an end to it. let us, let all the vandals,--the moors can surrender as prisoners,--charge upon the foe together, and--he would never let me finish. 'that would be suicide,' he answered, 'and sin. we must bear patiently what god has imposed upon us as a punishment. if it is his will. he can yet save us, bear us away from here on the wings of his angels. but the end is approaching--of itself. the number of graves on the slope of the mountain is daily increasing.'" "yes, the row constantly lengthens; sometimes the high mounds of our vandals surmounted by the cross!" "sometimes the faithful moors' heap of stones with the circle of black pebbles. yesterday evening we buried the delicate gundoric; the last scion of the proud gundings, the darling of his brave father gundobad." "so the poor boy's sufferings are over? in carthage the child was always clad in purple silk as he rode through the streets in a shell carriage drawn by ostriches." "day before yesterday the king brought to the miserable heap of straw where he was lying the fragrant bread he had begged from the enemy. the child devoured it so eagerly that we were obliged to check him. we turned our backs a moment,--i was getting some water with the king for the sick boy,--when a cry of mingled rage and grief summoned us. a moorish lad, probably attracted by the smell of the bread, had sprung in through the open window and torn it from between the child's teeth. it made a very deep impression on the king. 'this child, too, the guiltless one? o terrible god!' he cried again and again. i closed the boy's dying eyes to-day." "it cannot last much longer. the people have killed the last horse except styx." "styx shall not be slaughtered," cried hilda. "he bore you from certain death; he saved you." "_you_ saved me, with your valkyria ride," exclaimed gibamund; and, happy in the midst of all the wretchedness, he pressed his beautiful wife to his heart, kissing her golden hair, her eyes, her noble brow. "hark! what is that?" "it is the song which he has composed and is singing to the harp fara sent him. well for thee, teja's stringed instrument, that thou art not compelled to accompany such a dirge," she cried wrathfully, springing up and tossing back her waving locks. "i would rather have shattered my harp on the nearest rocks than lent it for such a song." "but it works like a spell upon the moors and vandals." "they do not understand it at all; the words are latin. he has rejected alliteration as pagan, as the magic of runes! he allows no one to mention his last battle-song." "of course they scarcely understand it. but when they see the king as, almost in an ecstasy, like a man walking in his sleep, with his burning eyes half closed, his wan, sorrowful face surrounded by tangled locks, his ragged royal mantle thrown around his shoulders, his harp on his arm, he wanders alone over the rocks and snows of this mountain; when they hear the deep, wailing voice, the mournful melody of the dirge, it affects them like a spell, though they understand little of the meaning. hark! there it rises again." nearer and nearer, partly borne away by the wind, came in broken words, sometimes accompanied by the strings, the chant: "woe to thee! i mourn, i mourn! woe to thee, o vandal race! soon forgot, will be thy name, which the world, a tempest, swept. "gloriously didst thou arise from the sea,--a meteor. fame and radiance lost for aye, thou wilt sink in blackest night. "all the earth's rich treasures heaped genseric in carthage fair. starving beggar with the foe, now for bread his grandson pleads. "let thy heroes strengthen me; god's wrath on thee resteth sore; leave fame and honor to the goths, to the franks:--they are but toys." "i will not listen; i will not bear it," cried hilda. "he shall not revile all that makes life worth living." nearer, more distinctly, sounded the slow, mournful notes. "vanity and sin are all thou hast cherished, vandal race; therefore god hath stricken thee, therefore bowed thy head in shame. "bow thee, bow thee to the dust, bruised race of genseric; kiss the rod in gratitude. it is god the lord who smites." the dirge died away. the royal singer ascended with tottering steps the half-ruined stairs of the basilica, his harp hanging loosely from his left arm. now he stood between the gray, mouldering pillars of the entrance, and, laying his right arm against the cold stone, pressed his weary head upon it. just at that moment a young moor came hurrying up the steps; a few bounds brought him to the top. gibamund and hilda went toward him in astonishment. "it is long since i have seen you move so swiftly, sersaon," said gibamund. "your eyes are sparkling," cried hilda. "you bring good tidings." the king raised his head from the pillar and, shaking it sorrowfully, looked at the moor. "yes, wise queen," replied the latter. "the best of tidings: rescue!" "impossible!" said gelimer, in a hollow tone. "it is true, my master. here, verus will confirm it." with a slow step, but unbroken strength, the priest ascended the mountain-top. he seemed rather to be prouder, more powerful than in the days of happiness; he held his head haughtily erect. in his hand he carried an arrow and a strip of papyrus. "to-night," the young moor went on, "i had the watch at our farthest point toward the south. at the earliest glimmer of dawn, i heard the call of the ostrich: i thought it a delusion, for the bird never ascends to such a height, and this is not the mating season. but this call is our concerted signal with our allies among the southern tribes, the soloes. i listened, i watched keenly; yes, yonder, pressing close against the yellowish-brown cliff, so motionless that he could scarcely be distinguished from the rock, crouched a soloe. i softly answered the call; instantly an arrow flew to the earth close beside me,--a headless arrow, into whose hollow shaft, instead of the tip, this strip had been forced. i drew it out; i cannot read, but i took it to the nearest vandals. two of them read it and rejoiced greatly. verus happened to pass by; he wanted to tear the papyrus, wished to forbid our speaking of it to you, but hunger, the hope of rescue, are stronger than his words--" "i thought it treachery, a snare; it is too improbable," interrupted verus. gibamund snatched the strip and read: "the path descending southward, where the ostrich called, is unguarded; it is supposed to be impassable. climb down singly to-morrow at midnight; we will wait close by with fresh horses. theudis, king of the visigoths, has sent us gold to save you, and a little ship. it is lying near the coast. hasten." "there is still fidelity. there are still friends in need!" cried hilda, exultingly, throwing herself with tears of joy, on her husband's breast. the king's bowed figure straightened; his eyes lost their dull, hopeless expression. "now you see how wicked it would have been to seek death. this is the finger which god's mercy extends to us. let us grasp it." chapter xx verus, in order to make the enemy wholly unsuspicious, offered to propose to fara an interview with gelimer at noon the following day, on the northern slope of the mountain, in which the last offers of belisarius should be again discussed. after some scruples of conscience, the king consented to this stratagem of war. verus reported that fara was very much pleased with his communication, and would await gelimer on the following day. nevertheless, the besieged band kept a sharp watch upon the besiegers' outposts and camp--the high mountain-top afforded a foil view of their position--to note any movement in the direction of the descent which might indicate the discovery of the intended flight or the soloe hiding-place at the foot of the mountain. nothing of the sort was apparent; the foemen below spent the day in the usual manner. the guards were not strengthened, and after darkness closed in, the watchfires were neither increased nor changed. at nightfall the besiegers also lighted their fires on the northern side in the same places as before. shortly before midnight the little procession began its march. the moors, who were familiar with the way, went first provided with ropes and iron braces. at every step the fugitives were obliged to feel their way cautiously with the handles of their spears, testing the smooth, crumbling surface of the rock to try whether it would afford a firm foothold. next followed gibamund and hilda; the princess had folded genseric's great banner closely and tied it about the pole, which she used as a staff; then came gelimer, behind him verus and the small remaining band of vandals. so they moved for about half an hour along the summit of the mountain, until they reached the southern side, down which the narrow path led. each step was perilous to life; for they dared not light torches. as the little group began the descent, gelimer turned. "oh, verus," he whispered, "death may be very near to us all. repeat a prayer--where is verus?" "he hastened back some time ago," replied markomer. "he wished to bring a relic he had forgot. he bade us go on, saying that he would overtake us at the next turn in the road before we descended the ravine." the king hesitated, and began to murmur the lord's prayer. "forward!" whispered sersaon, the leading moor. "there is no more time to lose. we need only pass quickly around the next projecting rock--ha! torches, treason! back to--" he could say no more; an arrow transfixed his throat. torches glared with a dazzling light into the eyes of the fugitives just as they turned the jutting cliff. weapons flashed, and before the ranks of the herulians stood a man holding aloft a torch to light the group. "there, the second one is the king," he cried. "capture him alive." he took a step forward. "verus!" shrieked gelimer, falling back unconscious. two vandals caught him and bore him up the height. "on! storm the mountain!" fara ordered below. but it was impossible to storm a height which could be climbed only by clinging with both hands to the perpendicular cliff. fara himself instantly perceived it when, by the torchlight, he beheld the path and saw gibamund standing with levelled spear on the last broader ledge of rock which afforded a firm footing. "it is a pity!" he shouted. "but now this loophole will henceforth be barred also. surrender!" "never!" cried gibamund, hurling his spear. the man by fara's side fell. "shoot! quickly! all at once!" the herulian leader angrily commanded. behind the herulians were twenty archers, dismounted huns. their bows twanged; gibamund sank silently backward. hilda, with a cry of anguish, caught him in her arms. but markomer, raising his lance threateningly, already stood in the place of the fallen man. "cease," fara ordered. "but keep the outlet strongly guarded. the priest said that they must yield either to-morrow or on the following day." * * * * * gelimer was roused from his unconsciousness by hilda's shriek. "now gibamund, too, has fallen," he said very calmly. "all is over." supported by his spear, he climbed wearily back. a few vandals followed him. he vanished in the darkness of the night. hilda sat silent with the head of her lifeless husband in her lap, and the staff of the banner resting on her shoulder. she had no tears, but groped in the thick gloom for the beloved face. at last she heard a vandal, returning from the king, say to markomer: "this was the final blow. to-morrow--i am to announce it to the enemy--gelimer will submit." now she sprang up, and asking two of the men to help her--she would not release the dear head from her clasping hands--carried the dead prince to the top of the mountain. in a little grove of pines, just outside the city, a small wooden hut had been built which had formerly contained stores of every kind. now it was half empty except for a large pile of the wood used for fires. in this hut she spent the night and the dark morning alone with the dead. when it grew light she sought the king, whom she found in the basilica on the spot where formerly--the remains of some steps showed it--the altar had stood. here gelimer had placed in a crack between two stones a wooden cross, roughly made of boughs laid across each other. he lay prone on his face before it, clasping the cross with both arms. "brother-in-law gelimer," she said in a curt, harsh tone, "is it true? do you mean to surrender?" he made no reply. she shook him by the shoulder. "king of the vandals, do you mean to give yourself up as a captive?" she cried more loudly. "they will lead you through the streets of constantinople as a spectacle! will you shame your people--your _dead_ people--still more?" "vanity," he answered dully. "vanity speaks from your lips! all that you are thinking is sinful, vain, arrogant." "why do you do this so suddenly? you have held out for months." "verus!" groaned the king. "god has abandoned me; my guardian spirit has betrayed me. i am condemned on earth, and in the world beyond the grave. i can do nothing else!" "yes. here, gelimer, here is your sharp sword." stooping, she tore it from the sheath which lay with the sword-belt at the foot of the steps. "'the dead are free' is a good motto." but gelimer shook his head. "vanity. pride of heart. pagan sin. i am a christian. i will not kill myself. i will bear my cross--as christ bore his--until i sink beneath it." hilda flung the sword clanking at his feet and turned from him without a word. "where are you going? what do you mean to do?" "do you suppose i loved less truly and deeply and fervently than that delicate greek child? i come, my hero and my husband." she walked across to a building now turned into a stable, the former curia of medenus, where, a short time before, many horses had stamped. only styx, the stallion, now stood in it. hilda grasped his mane, and the wise, faithful animal followed like a lamb. the princess went with the horse to the hut. it hung back a moment before following her into the narrow inclosure, which was dimly lighted by a pine torch in an iron ring by the door. "come in," hilda said coaxingly, drawing the horse gently after her. "it will be better for you too. you will perish miserably. your beauty and your strength have gone. and after serving love in that brave ride through the battle, the enemy shall not seize you and torment you with base labor. what says the ancient song: "heaped high for the hero log on log laid they: slain, his swift steed shared the warrior's death. and, gladly, his wife, nay, alas! his widow. burden of life's weary days sad and desolate would she, the faithful, bear on no farther." she led the stallion to the side of the lofty pile of wood, where she had laid the beautiful corpse, drew gibamund's sword from its sheath, and, searching with her hand for the throbbing of the heart, thrust the blade into it with one powerful blow. styx fell lifeless. hilda threw down the blood-stained weapon. "oh, my love!" she cried. "oh, my husband, my life! why did i never tell you how i loved you? alas! because i did not know myself--until now! hear it, oh, hear it, gibamund, i loved you very dearly. i thank you. friend teja! oh, my all, i follow you." and now she drew from her girdle the keen black dagger. severing with one cut the long floating banner from its staff, she spread it over the corpse like a pall. it was so wide that it covered the whole space beside the body. then, with the blazing torch, she lighted the lowest wood, bent over the dead prince, again kissed the pale lips fervently, and seizing the dark weapon, which flashed brightly in the light of the flames, buried it in her brave, proud heart. she fell forward on her face over her beloved husband, and the fire, crackling and burning, seized first the scarlet banner which enfolded the young pair. the morning breeze blew strongly through the half-open door and the chinks between the logs--and the bright flames soon blazed high above the roof. chapter xxi procopius to cethegus: it is over! thank god, or whoever else may be entitled to our gratitude. three months, full of utter weariness, we remained encamped before the mountain of defiance. it is march; the nights are still cool, but at noonday the sun already burns with scorching heat. an attempted flight was baffled by treachery; verus, gelimer's chancellor and closest friend, deserves the credit of this base deed. obeying the priest's directions we sought the soloes concealed on the southern slope who were to accompany the fugitives to the sea, but found only the prints of numerous hoofs. we blocked the outlet. then the king voluntarily, without any farther trouble, offered to surrender. fara was greatly delighted; he would have granted any condition that enabled him to deliver the king a captive to belisarius, who was even more impatient for the end of the war than we. at the entrance of the ravine, which we had never been able to penetrate, i received the little band of vandals--about twenty were left. the moors, too, came down; at gelimer's earnest entreaty, fara immediately set them at liberty. these vandals--what images of misery, famine, privation, sickness, suffering! i do not understand how they could still hold out, still offer resistance. they could scarcely carry their arms, and willingly allowed us to take them. but when i saw and talked with gelimer--crushed though he is now--i realized that this man's mind and will could control, rule, support others as long as he desired. i have never seen any human being like him,--a monk, an enthusiast, and yet a royal hero. i entreated fara to let me shelter him in my tent. while we could scarcely restrain the others from immoderately greedy indulgence in meats and other foods of which they had long been deprived, he voluntarily continued the fast so long forced upon him. fara with difficulty induced him to drink some wine; the herulian probably feared that his prisoner would die on the way, before he could deliver him to belisarius. for a long time he refused; but when i suggested that he was probably seeking death in this way, he at once drank the wine and ate some bread. long and fully, for nearly half the night, he talked with me, full of gentle submission, concerning his destiny. it is touching, impressive, to hear him attribute everything to the providence of god. but i cannot always follow his train of thought. for instance, i remarked that, after holding out so long, the baffled attempt to escape had probably caused the sudden resolution to surrender. he smiled sadly and replied: "oh, no. had our flight been frustrated by any other reason, i would have held out unto death. but verus, verus!" he was silent, then he added: "you will not understand it. but now i know that god has abandoned me, if he was ever with me. now i know this, too, was sin, was hollow vanity, that i loved my people so ardently that from pride in the asding blood, in our ancient warlike fame, i would not yield, would not surrender. we must love god alone, and live only for heaven!" just at that moment fara broke into the tent somewhat rudely. "you have, not kept your promise. king!" he cried wrathfully. "you agreed to deliver up all the weapons and field flags, but the most important prize,--belisarius specially urged me to look to it, for he saw it rescued from the battle, and i myself noticed it in a woman's hand a short time ago, when we made the attack,--king genseric's great banner, is missing. our people, i myself, guided by vandals, have searched everywhere on the mountain; we found nothing except, among the ashes of a burned hut, with some bones, these gold nails,--the vandals say they belonged to the pole of the banner. did you burn it?" "oh, no, my lord, i should not have grudged you and belisarius the bauble; a woman did it hilda. she killed herself. o god, i beseech thee for her: forgive her!" and this is not hypocrisy. i hardly understand it. yet these strange events force upon me thoughts which usually i would willingly avoid. whoever has once meddled with philosophy--i shun it, but carry it ever in my brain--will never again escape the questioning concerning the why? lucky accidents have always happened in the destinies of men; but whether any enterprise has ever been attended with such good fortune as ours is doubtful. belisarius himself marvels. five thousand horsemen,--for our foot-soldiers scarcely entered the battle,--strangers who, after they were put on shore, had no refuge, no citadel, possessed no spot of ground in all africa except the soil on which they stood, did not know where they were to lay their heads,--five thousand horsemen, in two short conflicts, against ten times their number, destroyed the kingdom of the terrible genseric, took his grandson prisoner, seized his royal citadel and royal treasures! it is incomprehensible. if i had not witnessed it myself, i would not have believed it. after all, is there a god dwelling in the clouds who wonderfully guides the destinies of men? belisarius's generalship, and our brave, battle-trained army did much; something, though not a large share, was accomplished, as now appears, by verus's long-planned treachery, carried out to the end. without our knowledge, he has corresponded all this time with the emperor, and especially with the empress. the most was due to the degeneracy of the people, except the royal house, which lost three men in the struggle. the incomprehensible, contradictory nature of this king also contributed to the destruction. yet all these things would not have produced the result so speedily, but for the unexampled good fortune which has attended us from the beginning. and this luck--is it blind? is it the work of god, who desired to punish the vandals for the sins of their forefathers and for their own? it may be so. and not without reverence do i bow to such a rule. but--and here again the mocking doubt which never entirely deserts me, again rises in my mind--then we must say that god is not fastidious in his choice of tools, for this gelimer and his brothers are hardly surpassed in virtue by theodora, justinian, belisarius himself; perhaps, o cethegus, not even by the friend who has written you these lines. chapter xxii the day after gelimer's surrender fara's camp was broken up and the train of victors and captives began the march to carthage. couriers were despatched in advance to belisarius. at the head rode fara, procopius, and the other leaders on horses and camels; in the centre were led the captive vandals, bound, for the sake of precaution, hand and foot with chains which permitted walking and even riding, but not running, and surrounded by foot-soldiers; the hun cavalry formed the rear. so, resting at night in tents, they slowly traversed in fourteen days the road over which, in their swift pursuit, they had gone in eight. verus usually rode alone; he avoided the vandals, and the byzantines shunned _him_. on the second day after the departure from mount pappua,--fara and procopius were far in advance,--at a turn in the road, the priest checked his horse and waited. the prisoners approached. many a fettered hand was raised against him, many a curse was called down on his head; he neither saw nor heard. at last, holding in his manacled right hand a staff that extended into a cross, gelimer tottered forward on foot. verus urged his horse through the ranks of the guards, and now rode close beside him; the prisoner looked up. "you, verus!" he shuddered. "yes, i, verus. i waited for you here--you and this hour,--this hour which at last has come, slowly, lingeringly; this hour for which i have wished, longed, labored by prayer, by counsel and action, for which alone i have lived, suffered, struggled during years and tens of years." "and why, o verus, why? what injury have i done you?" verus uttered a shrill laugh, and reined in his horse, stopping suddenly. gelimer started. he had rarely seen this man smile, never had he heard him laugh aloud. "why? ha! ha! you can still ask? why? because--but to answer this question i should have to repeat the whole story of our--the romans', the catholics'--sufferings from the first step which genseric took upon this soil. why? because i am the avenger, the requiter of the hundred years of crime called 'the vandal kingdom in africa.' hear it, ye saints in heaven! this man--he was present when all my kindred were horribly murdered, and he asks why i have hated and, so far as i had power, destroyed him and his people?" "i know--" "you know nothing! for you can ask me: _why_? you know, you mean, of my dying mother's curse. but this you do not know--for you had fallen senseless,--that when she hurled the curse at you i wrenched myself free from my ropes, from my martyr's stake, sprang to her into the midst of the flames, clasped her in my arms, and wished to die with her. but she thrust me back out of the fire, crying: 'live, live and avenge me--and all your kindred--and fulfil the curse upon that vandal and all his people!' again i pressed forward, clasped the dying woman's hand, and swore it. your warriors tore me away from her; i saw her fall back into the flames, and my senses failed. "but when i recovered consciousness, i was no longer a boy--i was the avenger! i saw, heard, and felt nothing but that last clasp of my mother's hand, her glance, and my vow. and i abjured my religion--apparently. and you, miserable barbarians, made stupid by arrogance, you believed that i had done this from cowardice, from fear of torture and the flames! oh, how often in former years i have felt your silent, scarcely-concealed contempt, you foolish simpleton, and borne it with mortal hatred, with a fury which burned my heart. arrogant brood of vain fools! cowardice, fear, to you the most infamous of insults, you attributed to me without hesitation. blind fools! as if i did not suffer more, ten times more than death in the flames, during all these years, while ruling myself, enduring without a word of explanation the scorn of the carthaginians, the catholics, for my apostasy; stifling every emotion of hate and wrath and hope in my heart, that you might not perceive them, wearing an outward semblance of stone, while my whole soul was seething with fury, to serve you, to conduct your blasphemous service of god as your priest, bearing your insufferable boasting! for you germans, without boasting aloud (your loud braggart is easily endured, we despise him), are silent boasters. you walk over the earth as if you must constantly crush something; you throw back your heads as if you were greeting and nodding to your ancestors in heaven: 'yes, yes, the world belongs to us!' and that you do not know and feel it, while you are insulting us mortally by such conduct, because it is a matter of course--is the most unbearable thing about it. oh, how i hate you!" he struck with his whip at the figure walking by his side, who received the blow, but did not seem to feel it. "you barbarians, who, a few generations ago, were cattle-thieves on the frontier of our empire, whom we slaughtered, enslaved, threw to the beasts by hundreds of thousands,--naked, starving beggars who gratefully picked up the crumbs flung to them by roman generosity,--hence with you all, all, you wolves, you bulls, you bears, whom only bestial strength and god's permission--as a punishment for our sins--allowed to break into the roman empire! hence with you!" he again raised his whip to strike, but seeing a herulian warrior's eye fixed threateningly upon him, he lowered his arm in embarrassment. gelimer remained silent, except for frequent sighs. "and your conscience?" he now said very gently. "has it never rebuked you? i since escaping the lion--i have trusted you entirely, i laid my heart in your hands, you became my confessor; did you feel no shame then?" a scarlet flush dyed the priest's pallid face for an instant, but it passed like a flash of lightning. the next moment he answered: "yes! so foolish was my heart--often. especially at first. but," he went on wrathfully, "i always conquered this weakness by saying to myself whenever i felt it, and your insulting arrogance made me feel it daily (oh, that zazo! i hated him most of all): they deem you so base that, in the presence of the dead bodies of all your kindred, you abjured your faith! these insolent, incredibly stupid barbarians--but it is arrogance, even more than stupidity--believe that you, you, the son of these parents, could really be devoted to them, could forget your martyrs, to serve them and their brutal, imperious splendor. they think that you can be so inconceivably base! avenge yourself, punish them for this unbearable presumption! oh, hate, too, is a joy, the hatred of nation for nation! and so long as a drop of blood flows in the veins of other nations, you germans must be hated, unto death, until you are trampled under foot." he dealt a heavy blow with his clenched fist upon the uncovered head of the tottering king. gelimer did not look up, did not even start. "what threat are you muttering in your beard?" asked verus, bending toward him. "i was only praying, 'as we forgive our debtors.' but perhaps that, too, is vanity, sin. perhaps--you are not my debtor. perhaps you are really," again he shuddered, "my angel, whom god sends, not to protect me, as i supposed in my vanity, but in punishment." "i was not your _good_ angel," laughed the other. "but--if i may ask--?" "ask on! i want to enjoy this hour to the utmost." "if you hated me so bitterly, desired to avenge your mother on me, why did you carry on this game for so many long years? often and often,--when i lay helpless in the lion's power, you might have killed me, so why--?" "a stupid question! have you not understood even yet? fool! true, i hated you, but even more--your nation. to kill you had its charm. and i struggled sorely with my hate at that time, in order not to kill you instead of the lion." "i saw that." "but i perceived: here, in this man, lives the soul of the vandal people. to raise him to the throne, and then rule him, is to rule his people. if i should kill him now, i should drive hilderic to a secret treaty with constantinople. zazo, gibamund, others, will resist long and bravely. but if this man, who, above all, could save his people, should become king, and then, as king, be in my power, his countrymen will be most surely lost. if it should become necessary to kill him, an opportunity can probably always be found. far better than to murder him is through him to rule--and ruin--the vandal nation!" then gelimer groaned aloud and, staggering, involuntarily caught at the horse's neck for support. verus thrust his hand aside; he stumbled and fell on the sand, but instantly rose and pursued his way. "did the priest strike you. king?" cried the herulian, threateningly. "no, my friend." but verus went on: "hilderic must be removed from the throne, for he would not implicitly obey my will. he demanded all sorts of indulgences for the vandals, and justinianus was ready to grant them. but i desired not only to make gelimer and his vandals subjects of the emperor,--i wanted to destroy them. your rough brother discovered my intercourse with pudentius; if i had been searched at that time, if pudentius's letter had been found, all would have been lost. instead, i gave it to him; i betrayed his hiding-place, but i knew he was already outside the walls, mounted on my best racer. "the king and you both entered the trap of my warnings. i rejoiced at your readiness to believe in hilderic's guilt, because you--desired it; because with secret, though repressed eagerness, you longed for the crown. even though you dethroned hilderic in good faith, how alert, how ardent you were to secure the throne! i aided, i saw you strike down poor hoamer, who was perfectly right when he denied hilderic's purpose of murder. you called the duel a judgment of god, you believed you thereby served heaven's justice, and you served only your own lust for power and, through it, _me_! your passion--stimulated by satan, not god--gave you the impulse, the swift strength of arm, to which hoamer instantly succumbed. it was a devil's judgment, a victory of hell, not a decree of god. now i became your chancellor; that is, your destroyer. i quarrelled openly with the emperor; i negotiated secretly with the empress. i sent your fleet to sardinia, after learning the day before that belisarius had set sail with his army. after the battle of decimum, i advised you to shut yourself with your troops in carthage. the game would then have been over six months earlier, but this one move failed,--you would not accept my counsel. i was obliged to guard against hilderic's vindicating himself, so i took out of the chest before i let hilderic search it, the warning letter, which i had dictated. but i could permit no scion of genseric's race to live: justinian would have received your two captives with honors after the victory of belisarius! i had them killed by my freedman and secured his escape. but you--i had long reserved it for the hour of your greatest supremacy, in case of the most extreme peril of our plans--you i crushed at the right moment by the revelation that you had dethroned hilderic without cause and then murdered him. but my mother's curse and my oath would not be fulfilled until you walked in chains as justinian's captive. "therefore, to prevent your escape, i shared all the suffering, all the privations, of these last three months. letters from king theudis, directly after the battle of decimum, had offered you rescue through the coast tribes by the galleys of the visigoths. you never saw those letters; i suppressed them. not until deliverance really beckoned, when you already stretched your hand toward it, did i strip off the mask to destroy you utterly. now i shall see you kiss justinian's feet in the hippodrome at constantinople; this is the final consummation of my mother's curse, my oath, and my people's vengeance." he ceased, his face glowing, his eyes flashing down at the prisoner. gelimer stooped and kissed the shoe in verus's stirrup. "i thank you. so you are god's rod which struck and felled me. i thank god and you for every blow, as i thanked god and you when i believed you to be my guardian spirit. and if, meanwhile, you have committed any sin against me, against my people,--i know not how to express it,--may god forgive you, as i do." chapter xxiii procopius to cethegus: he went all the way to carthage on foot, declining horse or camel, remaining silent or praying aloud in latin, no longer in the vandal language. fara offered him suitable garments instead of the worn, half-tattered purple mantle which he had on his bare body. the captive declined, and asked for a penitent's girdle, with sharp points on the inside, such as the hermits wear in the desert. we did not know how to obtain such crazy gear, and fara probably disapproved the wish, so the "tyrant" himself made one from a cast-off horse-bridle which he found and the hard, sharp thorns of the desert acacia. close to the gate of his capital, his strength failed, and he fell, face downward, in the road. verus stopped behind him, hesitating. i believe he meant to set his foot on the king's neck; but fara, who probably had the same suspicion, roughly pushed the priest forward, and raised the monarch with kind words. directly beyond the numidian gate, in the spacious square in the aklas suburb, belisarius had assembled the larger portion of his army, filling three sides; the fourth, facing the gate, remained open. opposite the entrance, on a raised seat, the general, in full armor, sat throned; above his head rose the imperial field standards; at his feet lay the scarlet flags and pennons of the vandals which we had captured by the dozen; every thousand had them. only the great royal banner was missing; it was never found. around belisarius stood the leaders of his victorious bands, with many bishops and priests, then the senators, aristocratic citizens of carthage and the other cities, some of whom had returned from exile or flight during the past few months; pudentius of tripolis and his son were among them, rejoicing. to the left of belisarius, on purple coverlets at his feet, lay heaped and poured in artistic confusion the royal treasure of the vandals: many chairs of solid gold, the chariot of the vandal queen, a countless multitude of treasures of every description,--how the jewels glittered under the radiant african sun,--the whole silver table service of the king, weighing many thousand pounds, and all the rest of the paraphernalia of the royal household, besides weapons, countless weapons from genseric's armories; old roman banners, too, which, after a captivity of years, were again released; weapons enough in the hands of brave men to conquer the whole globe; roman helmets with proudly curved crests, german boar and buffalo helmets, moorish shields covered with panther skins, moorish fillets with waving ostrich plumes, breastplates of crocodile skin,--who can enumerate the motley variety? but at the right of belisarius, with their hands bound behind their backs, stood the prisoners of the highest rank, men, and also many women, beautiful in face and figure,--the whole picture, however, was inclosed, as though in an iron frame, by our squadrons of horsemen and the dense ranks of our foot-soldiers. how the horses neighed; how the plumes in the helmets waved; how the metal clanked and glittered with dazzling brightness! a magnificent spectacle which must fill with rapture the heart of every man who did not view it as a captive. behind our warriors crowded eagerly the populace of carthage, taught by many a blow with the handle of a spear that it had nothing to say, and bore no part in this celebration of its own and africa's deliverance. our little procession stopped within the vaulted gateway, awaiting a preconcerted signal. a tuba blared; fara and i, followed by some subordinate officers and thirty herulians, rode into the square to belisarius's throne. he commanded us to dismount, rose, embraced and kissed fara, and hung around his neck a large gold disk,--the prize of victory for bringing as prisoner a crowned king. then he pressed my hand and asked me to accompany him in all future campaigns. this is the highest reward i could receive, for i love this man who has the courage of a lion and the heart of a boy! at a signal we took our places on the right and left of the throne. two blasts of the tuba. clad in the richest vestments of the catholic priesthood,--i noticed that even the narrow arian tonsure had been changed to the broader catholic one,--verus came from the gateway into the square, his figure drawn up to its full height, his head thrown back proudly. he was evidently thinking: "but for me you would not be here, you arrogant soldiers." yet that is by no means true; we really should have conquered without him, though more slowly, with more difficulty. and in the degree to which it was correct--just so far it irritated my friend belisarius. his brow contracted, and he scanned the approaching priest with a look of contempt which the latter could not endure. when he bowed he lowered his lashes--arrogantly enough. "i have a letter from the emperor to read to you, priest," said belisarius. he extended his hand for a purple papyrus roll, kissed it, and began: "imperator cæsar, flavius justinianus, the devout, fortunate, glorious victor and triumphator, at all times augustus, conqueror of the alemanni, franks, germans, antæ, alani, persians, now also the vandals, moors, and africa, to verus the archdeacon. "'you have preferred, instead of dealing with me, to conduct a secret correspondence with the empress, my hallowed consort, concerning the fall of the tyrant to be consummated, with god's assistance, by our arms. she promised you, if we conquered, to ask me for the reward you desired. theodora does not intercede with justinian in vain. after proving that you had only apparently adopted the faith of the heretics, while in your heart, and also to your catholic confessor, who was authorized to grant you dispensation for that external semblance of sin, you had always been faithful to the true religion, you are recognized, having secretly received the catholic consecration, as an orthodox priest. so i command belisarius, immediately on the receipt of this letter, to proclaim you at once catholic bishop of carthage.'--hear, all ye carthaginians and romans: in the emperor's name, i proclaim verus catholic bishop of carthage, and will put on the bishop's mitre and deliver the bishop's staff. kneel, bishop." verus hesitated. he seemed to wish to receive the gold-embroidered mitre standing; but belisarius held it so low, so close to his own knees, that the priest could do nothing but submit, if the desired ornament and his head were to meet. the instant he felt it covered, he sprang up again. belisarius now placed in his hand the richly gilded, crooked shepherd's staff. then the bishop, holding himself haughtily erect, was about to move to the right of the throne. "stop, reverend bishop," cried belisarius, "the emperor's letter is not yet finished." and he read on: "'so the desired reward is yours. but theodora, as you have learned, does not intercede with justinian in vain; so i will also fulfil her second request. she thinks so bold and so crafty a man would be too dangerous in the bishopric of carthage; you might serve your new master as you did the old one. therefore she entreated me to have belisarius, immediately on receipt of this message, seize you,'"--at a sign from the general, fara, with the speed of lightning and with evident delight, laid his mailed right hand heavily on the shoulder of verus, whose face blanched,--"'for you are exiled for life to martyropolis on the tigris, upon the frontier of persia, as far as possible from carthage. the empress's confessor, whom she desires to have transferred from constantinople to carthage, will manage the affairs of the bishopric as your vicarius, with the consent of the holy father in rome. there are penal mines in martyropolis. during six hours in the day you will care for the souls of the convicts. that you may be better able to do this, by thoroughly understanding their state of feeling, you will, during the other six hours, share their labor.' away with him!" verus tried to answer, but already the tuba blared loudly again, and, before it sounded for the third time, six thracians had hurried the priest far away from the square, and disappeared in the street leading to the harbor. "now summon gelimer, the king of the vandals," said the general, loudly. and from the gateway into the square came gelimer, his hands fettered with a chain of gold. one of the numerous pointed crowns found in the royal treasure had been pressed upon his long tangled locks, and over his ragged old purple mantle and penitent's girdle was flung a magnificent new cloak of the same royal stuff. he had submitted to everything unresistingly, motionless and silent, only at first he had objected to the crown; then he said gently, "be it so--my crown of thorns." in the same unresisting, unmoved silence he now, like a walking corpse, crossed with slow, slow steps the space,--possibly three hundred feet,--which separated him from belisarius. while, at the mention of his name, a loud whisper, mingled with occasional exclamations, had run through the ranks, all the many thousands were silent now that they saw him: scorn, triumph, curiosity, vindictiveness, pity no longer found any expression; they were silenced by the majesty of this spectacle, the majesty of utter misery. the captive king crossed the square entirely alone. no other prisoner, not even a guard or warrior accompanied him. he kept his eyes, shaded by long lashes, fixed upon the ground; they were sunk deep in their sockets; his pale cheeks, too, were deeply sunken; the thin fingers of his right hand were clenched around a small wooden cross. blood--visible when the mantle slipped back in walking--was trickling from his girdle, down his naked limbs, in slow drops upon the white sand of the square. all were silent; a deathlike stillness pervaded the wide space; the people held their breath until the hapless king stood before belisarius. deeply moved, the roman general, too, found no words, but kindly extended his right hand to the man before him. gelimer now raised his large eyes, saw belisarius in all the glitter of gold and armor, glanced quickly around the three sides of the square, beheld the magnificence and pomp of warlike splendor, the victors' banners fluttering high in the air, on the ground the standards and sparkling royal treasure of the vandals. suddenly--we all started as this corpse burst into such wild emotion--he flung both hands, with their long gold chain, above his head, clasping them so that the metal clashed; the cross slipped from his grasp; he uttered a shrill, terrible laugh. "vanity! _all_ is vanity!" he shrieked, and threw himself prone upon the sand just at the feet of belisarius. "is this illness?" whispered the general to me. "oh, no," i answered in the same tone. "it is despair--or piety. he thinks that life is not worth living; everything human, everything earthly, even his people and his kingdom are sinful, vain, empty. is this the last word of christianity?" "no, it is madness!" cried belisarius the hero. "up, my brave warriors! let the tubas blare again, the roman tubas which echo through the world! to the harbor! to the ships! and to the triumph--to constantinople!" f e l i c i t a s by felix dahn _author of_ "_the scarlet banner_" translated from the german by mary j. safford. $ . * * * * * it tells of a lovely wife named felicitas, of her husband's inscription of her name upon the threshold of her home, and of the happiness that came to them in spite of roman wickedness and german invasion.--_boston journal_. a charming idyl of the period when the germans were forcing themselves and their ideals upon the roman empire.... felix dahn is perhaps the greatest historical novelist of germany.--_the churchman_. care, elevated purity of tone, and just balance distinguish it from many hastily thrown off and perfervid romances of the day.--_boston transcript_. the charm of it lies in this admirable picture of innocence and happiness amid the chaos of a fallen civilization.--_the independent_. the book is made in a way that commends it to lovers of the beautiful.--_chicago evening post_. the historical accuracy of professor dahn's novels is unimpeachable.--_san francisco argonaut_. the book is dramatic. the author has evidently found a new field for historical romance.--_worcester spy_. * * * * * a. c. mcclurg & co., _publishers_, chicago a captive of the roman eagles by felix dahn _author of_ "_felicitas_" translated from the german by mary j. safford. $ . the story deals with that early period when roman power was feeling the inroads of christianity, and the pagan teutons were not yet converted. it has, however, little to do with religion and much with conflict. a beautiful german girl captured by the romans is the heroine.--_the outlook_. the book is of distinct value, as illuminating for us one of the many dim paragraphs in the record of the mighty struggle that rome waged for centuries with the wild men of europe.--_chicago evening post_. at the present day he is considered the successor of ebers in historical fiction.--_minneapolis times_. a book not only worth translating, but worth translating well, and its english version, by mary j. safford, must be well-nigh as satisfactory as the original.--_book news_. it has the solid excellence one finds in the stories of dahn's compatriot, ebers.--_new york commercial advertiser_. a high place in the historical fiction of the year belongs to the translation of felix dahn's "bissula."--_the churchman_. such fiction is of the highest literary value. it redeems the appellation "historical novel" from execration and oblivion.--_louisville courier-journal_. miss safford has done her work of translating well. the book is published in attractive form, and it is a fine tale.--_boston times_. * * * * * a. c. mcclurg & co., _publishers_, chicago in the land of mosques and minarets _works of_ _francis miltoun_ [illustration] _rambles on the riviera_ $ . _rambles in normandy_ . _rambles in brittany_ . _the cathedrals and churches of the rhine_ . _the cathedrals of northern france_ . _the cathedrals of southern france_ . _in the land of mosques and minarets_ . _castles and chateaux of old touraine and the loire country_ . _castles and chateaux of old navarre and the basque provinces_ . _castles and palaces of italy_ . _the automobilist abroad_ _net_ . _postage extra_ [illustration] _l. c. page & company_ _new england building_, _boston, mass._ [illustration: the caïd of the msaaba blanche mcmanus ] in the land of mosques & minarets by francis miltoun _officier du nicham iftikhar_ author of "castles and chateaux of old touraine," "rambles in normandy," "rambles in brittany," "rambles on the riviera," "castles and chateaux of old navarre and the basque provinces," etc. _with illustrations from drawings and paintings done_ by blanche mcmanus [illustration: colophon] boston l. c. page & company _copyright, _ by l. c. page & company (incorporated) _all rights reserved_ first impression, april, _colonial press_ _electrotyped and printed by c. h. simonds & co._ _boston, u. s. a._ chapter page i. going and coming ii. the real north africa iii. algeria of to-day iv. the rÉgence of tunisia and the tunisians v. the religion of the mussulman vi. architecture of the mosques vii. poetry, music, and dancing viii. arabs, turks, and jews ix. some things that matter--to the arab x. "the arab shod with fire" xi. the ship of the desert and his ocean of sand xii. soldiers savage and civilized--lÉgionnaires and spahis xiii. from oran to the morocco frontier xiv. the mitidja and the sahel xv. the great white city--algiers xvi. algiers and beyond xvii. kabylie and the kabyles xviii. constantine and the gorge du rummel xix. between the desert and the sown xx. biskra and the desert beyond xxi. in the wake of the roman xxii. tunis and the souks xxiii. in shadow of the mosque xxiv. the glory that once was carthage xxv. the barbary coast xxvi. the oasis of tozeur index list of illustrations page the caÏd of the msaÂba _frontispiece_ the approach by sea (map) the edge of the desert _facing_ "cireur" the flight of the moors (map) algeria and its provinces (map) _facing_ touggourt _facing_ farming, old style batna _facing_ tunisia (map) _facing_ an old seal of the bey of tunis the olives we eat the world of islam _facing_ the eight positions of the praying mussulman the muezzin's call to prayer _facing_ a marabout _facing_ in an arab cemetery _facing_ ground plan of a mosque a window in an arab house kouba of sidi-brahim _facing_ an arabian musician _facing_ a flute seller _facing_ "souvenir d'algÉrie" (music) types of arabs jewish women of tunis _facing_ a daughter of the "great tents" _facing_ the life of the "great tents" _facing_ an arab and his horse in gala attire _facing_ the _mehari_ of the desert _facing_ a desert caravan _facing_ the illimitable desert the sand dunes of the desert _facing_ a captain of spahis _facing_ some native soldiery a goum _facing_ arab mosque at beni-ounif _facing_ a _kif_ shop _facing_ laghouat _facing_ hotel at figuig market, boufarik tomb of sidi-yacoub _facing_ a mauresque of blida _facing_ frieze at the ruisseau des singes algiers and its environs (map) _facing_ a cemetery gate _facing_ a bou-saada type _facing_ things seen in kabylie a minaret at constantine a constantine mosque _facing_ the gorge du rummel _facing_ a mussulman funeral the village and the gorge of el kantara _facing_ biskra and its arab villages (map) the courtyard of the hÔtel des ziban, biskra _facing_ sidi-okba _facing_ the _kasba_, bona _facing_ so-called tomb of constantine (diagram) tomb of mÉdracen lambessa and its ruins _facing_ lambessa (map) timgad (map) tebessa (diagram) morsott (diagram) in the bazaars, tunis _facing_ a street of mosques, tunis _facing_ dancing girls of tunis habib's visiting card the ports of carthage _facing_ carthage (map) ancient utica (diagram) the _sud-tunisien_ (map) in a kairouan mosque _facing_ amphitheatre at el djem el oued _facing_ a street in tozeur _facing_ in the land of mosques and minarets chapter i going and coming "say, dear friend, wouldst thou go to the land where pass the caravans beneath the shadow of the palm trees of the oasis; where even in mid-winter all is in flower as in spring-time elsewhere."--villiers de l'isle adam. the taste for travel is an acquired accomplishment. not every one likes to rough it. some demand home comforts; others luxurious appointments; but you don't get either of these in north africa, save in the palace hotels of algiers, biskra and tunis, and even there these things are less complete than many would wish. we knew all this when we started out. we had become habituated as it were, for we had been there before. the railways of north africa are poor, uncomfortable things, and excruciatingly slow; the steamships between marseilles or genoa and the african littoral are either uncomfortably crowded, or wobbly, slow-going tubs; and there are many discomforts of travel--not forgetting fleas--which considerably mitigate the joys of the conventional traveller who affects floating hotels and pullman car luxuries. the wonderful african-mediterranean setting is a patent attraction and is very lovely. every one thinks that; but it is best always to take ways and means into consideration when journeying, and if the game is not worth the candle, let it alone. this book is not written in commendation only of the good things of life which one meets with in north africa, but is a personal record of things seen and heard by the artist and the author. as such it may be accepted as a faithful transcript of sights and scenes--and many correlative things that matter--which will prove to be the portion of others who follow after. these things have been seen by many who have gone before who, however, have not had the courage to paint or describe them as they found them. victor hugo discovered the rhine, théophile gautier italy, de nerval the orient, and merimée spain; but they did not blush over the dark side and include only the more charming. for this reason the french descriptive writer has often given a more faithful picture of strange lands than that limned by anglo-saxon writers who have mostly praised them in an ignorant, sentimental fashion, or reviled them because they had left their own damp sheets and stogy food behind, and really did not enjoy travel--or even life--without them. there is a happy mean for the travellers' mood which must be cultivated, if one is not born with it, else all hope of pleasurable travel is lost for ever. the comparison holds good with regard to north africa and its arab population. sir richard burton certainly wrote a masterful work in his "pilgrimage to mecca and medina," and set forth the arab character as no one else has done; but he said some things, and did some things, too, that his fellow countrymen did not like, and so they were loth to accept his great work at its face value. the african mediterranean littoral, the mountains and the desert beyond, and all that lies between, have found their only true exponents in mme. myriam harry, mm. louis bertrand, arnaud and maryval, andré gide and isabelle eberhardt, and victor barrucaud. these and some others mentioned further on are the latter-day authorities on the arab life of africa, though the makers of english books on algeria and tunisia seem never to have heard of them, much less profited by their next-to-the-soil knowledge. instead they have preferred to weave their romances and novels on "home-country" lines, using a mediterranean or saharan setting for characters which are not of africa and which have no place therein. this book is a record of various journeyings in that domain of north africa where french influence is paramount; and is confidently offered as the result of much absorption of first-hand experiences and observations, coupled with authenticated facts of history and romance. all the elements have been found _sur place_ and have been woven into the pages which follow in order that nothing desirable of local colour should be lost by allowing too great an expanse of sea and land to intervene. the story of algeria and tunisia has so often been told by the french, and its moods have so often been painted by _les "gens d'esprit et de talent,"_ that a foreigner has a considerable task laid out for him in his effort to do the subject justice. think of trying to catch the fire and spirit of fromentin, of loti, of the maupassants or masqueray, or the local colour of the canvases of dinet, armand point, potter, besnard, constant, cabannes, guillaumet, or ziem! then go and try to paint the picture as it looks to you. yet why not? we live to learn; and, as all the phases of this subtropical land have not been exploited, why should we--the author and artist--not have a hand in it? so we started out. the mistral had begun to blow at martigues (la venise provençal known by artist folk of all nationalities, but unknown--as yet--to the world of tourists), where we had made our mediterranean headquarters for some years, but the sirocco was still blowing contrariwise from the south on the african coast, and it was for that reason that the author, the artist and another--the agreeable travelling companion, a rara avis by the way--made a hurried start. we were tired of the grime and grind of cities of convention; and were minded, after another round of travel, to repose a bit in some half-dormant, half-progressive little town of the barbary coast, or some desert oasis where one might, if he would, still dream the dreams of the arabian nights and days, regardless of a certain reflected glamour of vulgar modernity which filters through to the utmost saharan outposts from the great ports of the coast. by a fortunate chance weather and circumstances favoured this last journey, and thus the making of this book became a most enjoyable labour. we left marseilles for the land of the sun at six of an early autumn evening, the "_heure verte_" of the marseillais, when the whole cannebière smells of absinthe, alcohol, and anise, and all the world is at ease after a bustling, rustling day of busy affairs. these men of the midi, though they seemingly take things easy are a very industrious race. there is no such virile movement in paris, even on the boulevards, as one may witness on marseilles' famous cannebière at the seducing hour of the frenchman's _apéritif_. marseilles is a ceaseless turmoil of busy workaday affairs as well. from the ever-present gaiety of the cannebière cafés it is but a step to the great _quais_ and their creaking capstans and shouting longshoremen. from the _quais_ of la joliette all the world and his wife come and go in an interminable and constant tide of travel, to africa, to corsica and sardinia; to jaffa and constantinople; to port said and the east, india, australia, china and japan; and westward, through gibraltar's strait to the mexican gulf and the argentine. the like of marseilles exists nowhere on earth; it is the most brilliant and lively of all the ports of the world. it is the principal seaport of the mediterranean and the third city of france. our small, tubby steamer slipped slowly and silently out between the joliette _quais_ and past the towering notre dame de la garde and the great byzantine cathedral of sainte marie majeur, leaving the twinkling lights of the vieux port and the pharo soon far behind. past château d'if, the point des catalans, ratonneau and pomègue we steamed, all reminiscent of dumas and that masterpiece of his gallant portrait gallery,--"the count of monte cristo." the great planier light flashed its rays in our way for thirty odd miles seaward, keeping us company long after we had eaten a good dinner, a very good dinner indeed, with _café-cognac_--or _chartreuse_, real _chartreuse_, not the base imitation, mark you, _tout compris_, to top off with. the boat was a poor, wallowing thing of eight hundred tons or so, but the dinner was much better than many an atlantic liner gives. it had character, and was served [illustration: _the_ approach _by_ sea] in a tiny saloon on deck, with doors and ports all open, and a gentle, sighing mediterranean _brise_ wafting about our heads. we were six passengers all told, and we were very, very comfortably installed on the _isly_ of the compagnie touache, in spite of the fact that the craft owned to twenty-seven years and made only ten knots. the compagnie générale transatlantique has boats of the comparatively youthful age of twelve and seventeen, but they are so crowded that one is infinitely less comfortable, though they make the voyage at a gait of fifteen or sixteen knots. then again the food is by no means so good or well served as that we had on the _isly_. we have tried them both, and, as we asked no favours of price or accommodation in either case, the opinion may be set down as frank, truthful and personal. what others may think all depends on themselves and circumstance. in algeria, at any rate, one doesn't find trippers, and there are surprisingly few of what the french call "_anglaises sans-gêne_" and "_allemands grotesques_." the traveller in algeria should by all means eliminate his countrymen and study the native races and the french _colons_, if he wishes to know something of the country. otherwise he will know nothing, and might as well have gone to a magic-lantern show at home. it is a delightfully soft, exotic land which the geographers know as mediterranean africa, and which is fast becoming known to the world of modern travellers as the newest winter playground. the tide of pleasure-seeking travel has turned towards algeria and tunisia, but the plea is herein made to those who follow after for the better knowing of the places off the beaten track, bou-saada, kairouan, the oasis of gabès, oued-souf or tlemcen, for instance, something besides mustapha, biskra and tunis. darkest africa is no more darkest africa. that idea was exploded when stanley uttered his famous words: "doctor livingstone, i presume." and since that day the late cecil rhodes launched his cape to cairo scheme, and africa has been given over to diamond-mine exploiters, rubber collectors and semi-invalids, who, hearing wonderful tales of the climatic conditions of assouan and biskra, have foregathered in these places, to the joy of the native and the profit of the hotel director--usually a swiss. occasionally one has heard of an adventurous tourist who has hunted the wild gazelle in the atlas or the mountains of kabylie, the gentlest man-fearing creature god ever made, or who has "camped-out" in a tent furnished by cook, and has come home and told of his exploits which in truth were more tartarinesque than daring. the trail of the traveller is over all to-day; but he follows as a rule only the well-worn _pistes_. in addition to those strangers who live in algiers or tunis and have made of those cities weak imitations of european capitals and their suburbs as characterless as those of paris, london or chicago, they have also imported such conventions as "bars" and "tea-rooms" to biskra and hammam-r'hira. tlemcen and its mosques, however; figuig and its fortress-looking grand hôtel du sahara at beni-ounif; touggourt and its market and its military posts; and bou-saada and tozeur with their oases are as yet comparatively unknown ground to all except artists who have the passion of going everywhere and anywhere in search of the unspoiled. when it comes to oued-souf with its one "_maison française_," which, by the way, is inhabited by the frenchified sheik of the msaâba to whom a chapter is devoted in this book later on; or ghardaïa, the holy city of the sud-constantinois, the case were still more different. this is still virgin ground for the stranger, and can only be reached by diligence or caravan. the railway with a fairly good equipment runs all the length of algeria and tunisia, from the moroccan frontier at tlemcen to gabès and beyond, almost to the boundary of tripoli in barbary. an automobile would be much quicker, and in some parts even a donkey, but the railway serves as well as it ever does in a new-old country where it has recently been installed. if one enters by algiers or oran and leaves by tunis or even sfax or gabès he has done the round; but if opportunity offers, he should go south from tlemcen into the real desert at figuig; from biskra to touggourt; or from gabès to tozeur. otherwise he will have so kept "in touch" with things that he can, for the asking, have oatmeal for breakfast and marmalade for tea, which is not what one comes, or should come, to africa for. one takes his departure from french mediterranean africa from tunis or bizerte. leaving tunis and its domes and minarets behind, his ship makes its way gingerly out through the straight-cut canal, a matter of six [illustration: _the edge of the desert_] or eight miles to la goulette, a veritable italian fishing village in africa which the italian population themselves call la goletta. here the pilot is sent ashore,--he was a useless personage anyway, but he touches a hundred and fifty francs for standing on the bridge and doing nothing,--the ship turns a sharp right angle and sets its course northward for marseilles, leaving korbus and the great double-horned mountain far in the distance to starboard. carthage and its cathedral, and sidi-bou-saïd and its minarets are to port, the red soil forming a rich frame for the scintillating white walls scattered here and there over the landscape. la marsa and the bey's summer palace loom next in view, cap carthage and cap bon, and then the open sea. midway between tunis and marseilles, one sees the red porphyry rocks of sardinia. offshore are the little isles which terminate the greater island, the "taureau," the "vache" and the "veau." they are only interesting as landmarks, and look like the outcroppings of other mediterranean islands. in bad weather the mariners give them a wide berth. the sight of sardinia makes no impression on the french passengers. they stare at it, and remark it not. the profound contempt of the frenchman of the midi for all things italian is to be remarked. corsica is left to starboard, still farther away, in fact not visible, but the frenchman apparently does not regret this either, even though it has become a french département. "_peuh: la corse_," he says, "_un vilain pays_," where men pass their existence killing each other off. such is the outcome of traditional, racial rancour, and yet the most patriotic frenchman the writer has ever known was a corsican. "_voilà! le cap sicié!_" said the commandant the second morning at ten o'clock, as he stood on the bridge straining his eyes for a sight of land. we didn't see it, but we took his word for it. a quarter of an hour later it came into view, the great landmark promontory, which juts out into the mediterranean just west of toulon. just then with a swish and a swirl, and with as icy a breath as ever blew south from the snow-clad alps, down came the mistral upon us, and we all went below and passed the most uncomfortable five hours imaginable, anchored off the estaque, in full view of marseilles, and yet not able to enter harbour. the gulf of lyons and the mistral form an irresistible combination of forces once they get together. at last in port; the _douanier_ keeps a sharp lookout for cigars and cigarettes (which in algeria and tunisia sell for about a quarter of what they do in france), and in a quarter of an hour we are installed in that remarkably equipped "touring hotel" of marseilles' cours belzunce. _art nouveau_ furniture, no heavy rugs or draperies, metallic bedsteads, and hot and cold running water in every room. this is a good deal to find on this side of the atlantic. the house should be made note of by all coming this way. not in the palace hotels of algiers, biskra or tunis can you find such a combination. chapter ii the real north africa "_africque apporte tousjours quelque chose de nouveau._" --rabelais algeria and tunisia are already the vogue, and biskra, hammam-r'hira and mustapha are already names as familiar as cairo, amalfi or teneriffe, even though the throng of "_colis vivants expédiés par cook_," as the french call them, have not as yet overrun the land. for the most part the travellers in these delightful lands, be they americans, english or germans (and the germans are almost as numerous as the others), are strictly unlabelled, and each goes about his own affairs, one to tlemcen to paint the moorish architecture of its mosques, another to biskra for his health, and another to tunis merely to while away his time amid exotic surroundings. this describes well enough the majority of travellers here, but the other categories are increasing every day, and occasionally a "tourist-steamship" drops down three or four hundred at one fell swoop on the _quais_ of algiers or tunis, and then those cities become as the place de l'opéra, or piccadilly circus. these tourists only skirt the fringe of this interesting land, and after thirty-six hours or so go their ways. one does not become acquainted with the real north africa in any such fashion. the picturesque is everywhere in algeria and tunisia, and the incoming manners and customs of _outre-mer_ only make the contrast more remarkable. it is not the extraordinary thing that astonishes us to-day, for there is no more virgin land to exploit as a touring-ground. it is the rubbing of shoulders with the dwellers in foreign lands who, after all, are human, and have relatively the same desires as ourselves, which they often satisfy in a different manner, that makes travel enjoyable. what nubian and arab africa will become later, when european races have still further blended the centuries-old tropical and subtropical blood in a gentle assimilated adaptation of men and things, no one can predict. the arab has become a very good engineer, the berber can be trained to become a respectable herder of cattle, as the egyptian _fellah_ has been made into a good farmer, or a motorman on the electric railway from cairo to the pyramids. what the french call the "empire européen" is bound to envelop africa some day, and france will be in for the chief part in the division without question. the french seem to understand the situation thoroughly; and, with the storehouse of food products (algeria and tunisia, and perhaps by the time these lines are printed, morocco) at her very door, she is more than fortunately placed with regard to the development of this part of africa. the individual german may come and do a little trading on his own account, but it is france as a nation that is going to prosper out of africa. this is the one paramount aspect of the real north africa of to-day as it has been for some generations past, a fact which the foreign offices of many powers have overlooked. it is a pity that the whole gamut of the current affairs of north africa is summed up in many minds by the memory of the palpably false sentiment of the school of fictionists which began with ouida. let us hope it has ended, for the picturing of the local colour of mediterranean and saharan africa is really beyond the romancer who writes love-stories for the young ladies of the boarding-schools, and the new women of the _art nouveau_ boudoirs. the lithe, dreamy young arab of fiction, who falls in love with lonesome young women _en voyage_ alone to some tourist centre, is purely a myth. there is not a real thing about him, not even his clothes, much less his sentiments; and he and his picturesque natural surroundings jar horribly against each other at best. the cigarette of "under two flags" was not even a classically conventional figure, but simply a passionate, tumultuous creature, lovable only for her inconsistencies, which in reality were nothing african in act or sentiment, though that was her environment. the english lord who became a "chasseur d'afrique" was even more unreal--he wasn't a "chasseur d'afrique," anyway, he was simply a member of the "légion Étrangère;" but doubtless ouida cared less for minutely precise detail than she did to exploit her unconventional convictions. the best novels of to-day are something our parents never dreamed of! exclamations and exhortations of the characters of "under two flags," "mon amour," "ma patrie," "les enfants," are not african. they belong to the parasite faubourgs of paris' fortifications. let no one make the mistake, then, of taking this crop of north african novels for their guide and mentor. much better go with cook and be done with it, if one lacks the initiative to launch out for himself, and make the itinerary by railway, _diligence_ and caravan. if he will, one can travel by _diligence_ all over mediterranean africa, and by such a means of locomotion he will best see and know the country. the _diligence_ of the plain and mountain roads of algeria and tunisia is as remarkable a structure as still rolls on wheels. its counterpart does not exist to-day in france, switzerland or italy. it is generally driven by a portly arab, with three wheelers and four leaders, seven horses in all. it is made up of many compartments and stories. there is a _rez-de-chaussée_, a _mezzanine_ floor and a roof garden, with prices varying accordingly as comfort increases or decreases. a fifty or a hundred kilometre journey therein, or thereon, is an experience one does not readily forget. to begin with, one usually starts at an hour varying from four to seven in the morning, an hour which, even in algeria, in winter, is dark and chill. the stage-driver of the "far west" is a fearsome, capable individual, but the arab conductor of a "_voiture publique_," with a rope-wound turban on his head, a flowing, entangling burnous, and a five-yard whip, can take more chances in getting around corners or down a sharp incline than any other coach-driver that ever handled the ribbons. sometimes he has an assistant who handles a shorter whip, and belabours it over the backs of the wheelers, when additional risks accrue. sometimes, even, this is not enough and the man-at-the-wheel jumps down and runs alongside, slashing viciously at the flying heels of the seven horse power, after which he crawls up aloft and dozes awhile. under the hood of the _impériale_ is stowed away as miscellaneous a lot of baggage as one can imagine, including perhaps a dozen fowls, a sheep or two, or even a calf. amidst all this, three or four cross-legged natives wobble and lurch as the equipage makes its perilsome way. down below everything is full, too; so that, with its human freight of fifteen or sixteen persons, and the unweighed kilos of merchandise on the roof, the journey may well be described as being fraught with possibilities of disaster. there is treasure aboard, too,--a strong-box bolted to the floor beneath the drivers' feet; and at the rear a weather-proof cast-iron letter-box, padlocked tight and only opened at wayside post-offices. the sequestered colonist, living far from the rail or post, has his only communication with the outside world through the medium of this mobile _bureau de poste_. the roads of algeria and tunisia are marvellously good--where they exist. the arab roads and routes of old were simple trails, trod down in the herb-grown, sandy soil by the bare feet of men, or camels, or the hoofs of horses and mules. so narrow were these trails that two caravans could not pass each other, so there were two trails, like the steamship "lanes" of the atlantic. tradition still prompts the kabyles to march in single file on the sixteen meter wide high-roads, which now cross and recross their country, the results of a beneficent french administration. morocco some day will come in line. in tunisia, the roads are as good as they are in algeria, and they are many and being added to yearly. there are still to be seen, in the interior, little pyramids of stones, perhaps made up of tens of thousands, or a hundred thousand even, of desert pebbles, each unit placed by some devoted traveller who has recalled that on that spot occurred the death, or perhaps murder, of some pioneer. the arabs call these monuments nza, and would not think for a moment of passing one by without making their offering. it is a delicate, natural expression of sentiment, and one that might well be imitated. there is no more danger to the tourist travelling through algeria and tunisia by road than there would be in france or italy--and considerably less than might be met with in spain. there are some brigands and robbers left hiding in the mountains, perhaps, but their raids are on flocks and herds, and not for the mere dross of the gold of tourists, or the gasolene of automobilists. the desert lion is a myth of tartarinesque poets and artists, and one is not likely to meet anything more savage than a rabbit or a hedgehog all the fifteen hundred or two thousand kilometres from tlemcen to gabès. the african lion is a dweller only in the forest-grown mountains; and the popular belief that it can track for weeks across the desert, drinking only air, and eating only sand, is pure folly of the romantic brand perpetuated by the painter gérome. during the last ten years, in all algeria there were killed only:-- lions and lionesses and cubs panthers hyenas , jackals , it may be taken for granted, then, that there are no great dangers to be experienced on the well-worn roads and _pistes_ of tunisia and algeria. the hyenas and lions are hidden away in the great mountain fastnesses, and the jackals themselves are harmless enough so far as human beings are concerned. the _sanglier_, or wild boar, is savage enough if attacked when met with, otherwise it is he who flees, whilst the jack-rabbits and the gazelles make up the majority of the "savage life" seen contiguous to the main travelled roads away from the railways. scorpions and horned vipers are everywhere--if one looks for them, otherwise one scarcely ever sees one or the other. the greatest enemy of mankind hereabouts is the flea; and, as the remedy is an obvious and personal one, no more need be said. another plague is the cricket, grasshopper or _sauterelle_. the _sauterelle_, says the arab, is the wonder among nature's living things. it has the face of a horse, the eyes of an elephant, the neck of a bull, the horns of a deer, the breast of a lion, the stomach of a scorpion, the legs of an ostrich, the tail of a snake, and is more to be feared than any of the before enumerated menagerie. it all but devastated the chief wheat-growing lands of the plateaux of the provinces of alger and constantine a generation or more ago, and brought great misery in its wake. the scorpion and the gazelle are the two chief novelties among living things (after the camel) with which the stranger makes acquaintance here. the former is unlovely but not dangerous. "_il pique, mais ne mord pas_," say the french; but no one likes to find them in his shoes in the morning all the same. the gazelle is more likable, a gentle, endearing creature, with great liquid eyes, such as poets attribute to their most lovely feminine creations. the gazelle is an attribute of all fountain courtyards. it lives and thrives in captivity, can be tamed to follow you like a dog, and is as affectionate as a caressing kitten. it will eat condensed milk, dates, cabbage and cigarettes; but it balks at pear's soap. in the open country the nomad arab or even the house-dweller that one meets by the roadside is an agreeable, willing person, and when he understands french (as he frequently does), he is quite as "useful" as would be his european prototype under similar conditions. the country arab is courteous, for courtesy's sake, moreover, and not for profit. this is not apt to be the case in the cities and towns. the arab speech of the ports and railway cities and towns is of the solicitous kind. one can't learn anything here of phraseology that will be useful to him in the least and it's bad french. "_sidi mousi! moi porter! moi forsa besef!_" is nothing at all, though it is eloquent, and probably means that the gamin, old or young, wants to carry your baggage or call a cab. and for this you pay in algiers and tunis as you pay in london or paris, but you are not blackmailed as you are in alexandria or cairo. one may not rest two minutes on the terrace of any café in a large algerian town without having an arab, a kabyle, or a jewish ragamuffin come up and bawl at one incessantly, "_ciri, ciri, ciri!_" if you have just left your hotel, your boots brilliant as jet from the best algerian substitute for "day & martin's best," it doesn't matter in the least; they still cry, "_ciri, ciri, ciri, m'siou!_" sometimes it is, "_ciri bien, m'siou!_" and sometimes "_ciri, kif, kif la glace de paris!_" but the object of their plaint is always the same. finally, if you won't let them dull the polish of your _shine_, they will cire their faces and demand "_quat' sous_" from you because you witnessed the operation. very businesslike are the shoeblacks of algiers; they don't mind what they _cire_ as long as they _cire_ something. [illustration: "cireur"] the café d'apollon in algiers is the rendezvous of the "high-life arab." here sheiks from the deserts' great tents, caïds from the settlements, and others of the vast army of great and small arab officialdom assemble to take an afternoon _bock_ or _apéritif_; for in spite of his religion the mussulman will sometimes drink beer and white wine. some, too, are "decorated," and some wear even the _ruban_ or _bouton_ of the legion of honour on their chests where that otherwise useless buttonhole of the coat of civilization would be. grim, taciturn figures are these, whose only exclamation is a mechanical clacking of the lips or a cynical, gurgling chuckle coming from deep down, expressive of much or little, according as much or little is meant. the foreign population in algeria and tunisia is very mixed; and though all nationalities mingle in trade the foreigners will not become naturalized to any great extent. out of forty-one naturalized foreigners in tunis in , were italians, alsatians, luxembourgeois, maltese, german, belgian, moroccan, and individuals of undetermined nationality. civilization and progress has marked north africa for exploitation, but it will never overturn mohammedanism. the trail of islam is a long one and plainly marked. from the moghreb to the levant and beyond extends the [illustration: the flight _of the_ moors] memory and tradition of moorish civilization of days long gone by. the field is unlimited, and ranges from the giralda of andalusia to the ottoman mosques of the dardanelles, though we may regret, with all the arab poets and historians, the decadence of granada more than all else. the arab-moorish overrunning of north africa defined an epoch full of the incident of romance, whatever may have been the cruelties of the barbarians. this period endured until finally the sombre cities of the corsairs became the commercial capitals of to-day, just as glorious carthage became a residential suburb of tunis. the hand of time has left its mark plainly imprinted on all mediterranean africa, and not even the desire for up-to-dateness on the part of its exploiters will ever efface these memories, nor further desecrate the monuments which still remain. the french african possessions include more than a third of the continent, an area considerably more extensive than the united states, alaska, porto rico, and the philippines combined. one hears a lot about the development of the british sphere of influence in africa; but not much concerning that of the french which, since the unhappy affair of fashoda, has been more active than ever. the french are not the garrulous nation one sometimes thinks them. they have a way of doing things, and saying nothing, which is often fraught with surprises for the outside world. perhaps morocco and tripoli de barbarie may come into the fold some day; and, then, with the french holding the railways of egypt and the suez canal, as at present, they will certainly be the dominant mediterranean and african power, if they may not be reckoned so already. the saharan desert is french down to its last grain of sand and the last oasis palm-tree, and it alone has an area half the size of the united states. of mediterranean french africa, tunisia is a protectorate, but almost as absolutely governed by the french as if it were a part of the ile de france. algérie is a part of france, a department across the seas like corse. it holds its own elections and has three senators and six deputies at paris. its governor-general is a frenchman (usually promoted from the préfecture of some mainland département) and most of the officialdom and bureaucracy are french. trade between algeria and france, mostly in wines and food stuffs on one side, and manufactured products on the other, approximates three hundred millions of francs in each direction. algeria, "la belle algérie" as the french fondly call it, is not a mere strip of mountain land and desert. it is one of the richest agricultural lands on earth, running eastward from the moroccan frontier well over into tunisia; and, for ages, it has been known as the granary of europe. the carthaginians and the phoenicians built colonies and empires here, and rome was nourished from its wheat-fields and olive-groves. the wheat of africa was revered by the romans of the capital above all others. one of the pro-consuls sent augustus a little packet of four hundred grains, all grown from one sole seed, whereupon great national granaries were built and the commerce in the wheat of africa took on forthwith almost the complexion of a monopoly. the sowing and the harvest were most primitive. "i have seen," wrote pliny (h. n. xviii, ), "the sowing and the reaping accomplished here by the aid of a primitive plough, an old woman and a tiny donkey." the visitor may see the same to-day! at the moment of the first autumn rains the arab or berber cultivator works over his soil, or sets his wives on the job, and sows his winter wheat. the planting finished, the small arab farmer seeks the sunny side of a wall and basks there, watching things grow, smoking much tobacco and drinking much coffee, each of these narcotics very black and strong. four months later his ample, or meagre, crop comes by chance. then he flays it, not by means of a flail swung by hand, but by borrowing a little donkey from some neighbour,--if he hasn't one of his own,--and letting the donkey's hoofs trample it out. now he takes it--or most likely sends it--to market, and his year's work is done. he rolls over to the shady side of his _gourbi_ (the sunny side is getting too warm) and loafs along until another autumn. he might grow maize in the interval, but he doesn't. the barbary fig, or prickly-pear cactus, is everywhere in algeria and tunisia. it grows wild by the roadside, in great fields, and as a barrier transplanted to the top of the universal mud walls. frost is its only enemy. everything and everybody else flees before it except the native who eats its spiny, juicy bulbs and finds them good. the rest of us only find the spines, and throw the fruit away in disgust when we attempt to taste it. the barbary fig is the arab's sole food supply when crops fail, the only thing which stands between him and starvation--unless he steals dates or figs from some richer man's plantation. the arab's wants are not great, and with fifty francs and some ingenuity he can live a year. the palm-trees of africa number scores of varieties, but those of the mediterranean states and provinces, the date-bearing palm, come within three well-defined classes: the _phoenix-dactylifera_, the _chamaerops-humilis_ and the _cucifera-thebaica_. even the smallest arab proprietor of land or sheep or goats pays taxes. the french leave its collection to the local caïds or sheiks, but it gets into the official coffers ultimately,--or most of it does. in algeria there are four principal taxes, or _impôts_: the _achour_ on cereals; the _zekai_, on sheep and cattle to-day, but originally a tax collected for the general good, as prescribed by the koran; the _hokar_ (in constantine), a tax on land; the _lezma_, the generic term for various contributions, such as the right to carry firearms (the only tax levied in kabylie), and the tax on date-palms in the sud-algérie and sud-oranais. the arab carries a gun only after he gets a permit, which he must show every time he buys powder or shot. in tunisia the taxes are much the same; but there is a specific tax on olive-trees as well as date-palms, and on the markets and the products sold there. the wines of algeria and tunisia are the product of foreign vines whose roots were transplanted here but little more than half a century ago. these vines came from all parts, from france, switzerland, spain, italy, malta and america; and now the "_vin d'algérie_" goes out to the ends of the earth,--usually under the name of a _cru_ more famous. it is very good wine nevertheless, this rich, hybrid juice of the grape; and, though the provençal of chateauneuf, the sons of the aude, the garde and the hérault, or the men of roussillon do not recognize algerian wine as a worthy competitor of their own vintages, it is such all the same. and the peroximen, supposed to be a product only of andalusia, and the muscatel of alexandria, are very nearly as good grown on algerian soil as when gathered in the place of their birth. the "_vin rosé_" of kolea, the really superb wines of médea, and the "_vin blanc de carthage_," should carry the fame of these north african vintages to all who are, or think they are, judges of good wine. with such a rich larder at their very doors, the mediæval mediterranean nations were in a constant quarrel over its possession. vandals and greeks fought for the right to populate it after the romans, but the moorish wave was too strong; the arab crowded the berber to the wall and made him a mussulman instead of a christian, a religious faith which the french have held inviolate so far as proselytizing goes. it is this one fundamental principle which has done much to make the french rule in algeria the success that it is. britain should leave religion out of her colonizing schemes if she would avoid the unrest which is continually cropping up in various parts of the empire; and the united states should leave the friars of the philippines alone, and let them grow fat if they will, and develop the country on business lines. we are apt to think that the french are slow in business matters, but they get results sometimes in an astonishingly successful manner, and by methods which they copy from no one. the ports of algeria and tunisia are of great antiquity. the romans, not content with the natural advantages offered as harbours, frequently cut them out of the soft rock itself, or built out jetties or _quais_, as have all dock engineers since when occasion demanded. there are vestiges of these old roman _quais_ at bougie, at collo, at cherchell, at stora and at bona. these roman works, destroyed or abandoned at the vandal invasion, were never rebuilt; and the great oversea traders of the italian republics, of france and of spain, merely hung around offshore and transacted their business, as do the tourist steamers at jaffa to-day, while their personally conducted hordes descend upon jerusalem and the jordan. the barbary pirates had little inlets and outlets which they alone knew, and flitted in and out of on their nefarious projects; but only at algiers, until in comparatively recent times, were there any ports or harbours, legitimately so called, in either algeria or tunisia, though the spaniards, when in occupation of oran in the eighteenth century, made some inefficient attempts towards waterside improvements of a permanent character. in thinking of north africa it is well to recall that it is not a tropical belt, nor even a subtropical one. it is very like the climate of the latitude of washington, though perhaps with less rain in winter. it is not for a moment to be compared with california or bermuda. the temperature on the algerian coast is normally as follows:-- winter, °- ° centigrade summer, ° centigrade spring, °- ° centigrade autumn, °- ° centigrade average yearly, °- ° centigrade as compared with the temperature of the french riviera, taking nice as an example, the balance swings in favour of algeria in winter, and a trifle against it for summer, as the following figures show:-- winter, ° centigrade summer, ° centigrade spring, ° centigrade autumn, ° centigrade yearly average, ° centigrade one pertinent observation on north africa is that regarding the influx of outside civilizing influences. the american invasion of manufactured products is here something considerable; but as yet it has achieved nothing like its possibilities, save perhaps in electrical tramway installation, sewing machines and five-gallon tins of kerosene. the french have _got_ north africa, mostly; the germans the trade in cutlery; the english (or the scotch) that in whiskey and marmalade; but the american shipments of "singers" and "standards" must in total figures swamp any of the other single "foreign imports" in value. one does not speak of course of imports from france. as the argument of the dealers, who push the sewing-machine into the desert _gourbis_ of the nomads and the mountain dwellings of the kabyles, has it, the civilizing influences of algeria have been railways, public schools and "singers." what progressive arab could be expected to resist such an argument for progress, with easy-payment terms of a franc a week as the chief inducement? the only objection seems to be that his delicately fashioned, creamy, woollen burnous of old is fast becoming a ready-made "lock-stitch" affair, which lacks the loving marks of the real hand-made article. other things from america are agricultural machinery, ice-cream freezers, oil-stoves, corn meal, corned beef, salmon from seattle, and pickles from bunker hill. as yet the trade in these "staples" is infinitesimal when compared with what it might be if "pushed," which it is not because all these things come mostly through london warehouse men, who "push" something else when they can. a few things america will not be able to sell in north africa are boots and shoes, the arab wears his neatly folded down at the heel, and ours are not that kind; nor socks, nor stockings, the arab buys a gaudy "near-silk," made in the vosges, when he buys any, and the women don't wear them; nor hats, though a stetson, no. , would please them mightily, all but the price. there is no demand for folding-beds or elastic bookcases. the arab sleeps on the floor, and the only book he possesses, if he can read, is a copy of the koran, which he tucks away inside his burnous and carries about with him everywhere. chairs he has no need for; when the arab doesn't lie or huddle on the ground, he sits dangle-legged or cross-legged on a bench, which is a home-made affair. the women mostly squat on their heels, which looks uncomfortable, but which they seem to enjoy. besides the american invasion, there is the german occupation to reckon with--in a trade sense. "those terrible germans," is a newspaper phrase of recent coinage which is applicable to almost any reference to the german trade invasion of every country under the sun, save perhaps the united states and canada. in south america, in russia, and in the african mediterranean states and provinces, the teuton has pushed his trading instincts to the utmost. he may be no sort of a colonizer himself, but he knows how to sell goods. in north africa, in the coast towns, over a thousand german firms have established themselves within the last ten years, all the way from tangier to port saïd. this may mean little or nothing to the offhand thinker; but when one recalls that the blackamoor and the arab have learned to use matches and folding pocket-knives, and have even been known to invest in talking machines, it is also well to recall that the german can produce these things, "machine-made," and market them cheaper than any other nation. for this reason he floods the market, where the taste is not too critical, and the cry is here for cheapness above all things. this is the arab's point of view, hence the increasing hordes of german traders. to show the german is indefatigable, and that he knows north africa to its depths, the case of the late german consul at cairo, paul gerhard, who wrote a monumental work on the butterflies of north africa, is worth recalling. chapter iii algeria of to-day "le coq gaulois est le coq de la gloire. il chante bien fort quand il gagne une victoire et encore plus fort quand il est battu." algeria is by no means savage africa, even though its population is mostly _indigène_. it forms a "_circonscription académique_" of france. it has a national observatory, a branch of that at paris, founded in ; a school of medicine and pharmacy; a school of law; a faculty of letters and sciences, and three endowed chairs of arabic, at algiers (founded in ); oran ( ) and constantine ( ). algeria has a great future in store, although it has cost france , , , francs since its occupation seventy years ago, and has only produced a revenue of , , , francs, which represents the loss of a sum greater than the war indemnity of . the algerian budget balanced for the first time in without subsidies from home. the entire population of algeria is , , , of which , , are arabs, kabyles or [illustration: algeria and its provinces] [illustration: algeria and its provinces] berbers, and the subdivided races hereafter mentioned, leaving in the neighbourhood of , europeans, whose numbers are largely increasing each year. the rate of increase of the european population, from , when the french first occupied the country, has been notable. in there were , europeans in the colony; in , , , of which , were french, , spanish, and , italians, and to-day the figure is over , . the arab and berber population, too, are notably increasing; they are not disappearing like the red man. from , , , in , they have increased, in , to , , . in addition to the arab and berber population of algeria, and the "foreigners" and europeans, there are the following: moors--( , ), the mixed issue of the berbers and all the races inhabiting algeria. koulouglis--( , ), born of turks and moorish women. jews--( , ), who by the decree of were made french. (this does not include unnaturalized jews.) negroes--( , ), the former slaves who were freed in . the french colonist in algeria, the man on the spot, understands the arab question better than the minister and officials of the colonial office of the pavilion sully, though the french have succeeded in making of algeria what they have never accomplished with their other colonies--a paying proposition at last. still france governs algeria under a sort of "up-the-state," "raines-law" rule, and treats the _indigène_ of laghouat or touggourt as they would a boatman of pontoise or a farm labourer of Étampes. the french colonial howls against all the mistakes and indiscretions of a "boulevard government" for the sahara, and even revile the governor general, whom he calls a civilian dressed up in military garb and no governor at all. _que diable!_ this savours of partisanship and politics, but it is an echo of what one hears as "café talk" any time he opens his ears in algiers. all is peace and concord within, however, in spite of the small talk of the cafés; and the arab and european live side by side, each enjoying practically the same rights and protection that they would if they lived in suburban paris. the caïd or sheik or head man of a tribe is the go-between in all that concerns the affairs of the native with the french government. [illustration: _touggourt_] the name caïd was formerly given to the governors of the provinces of the barbary states, but to-day that individual has absolutely disappeared, though he still remains as an administrator of french law, under the surveillance of the military government. in reality the caïd still remains the official head of his tribe, and in this position is sustained by the french authorities. the arab has adopted the new order of things very graciously, but he can't get over his ancient desire to hoard gold; and, for that reason, no algerian gold coin exists, and there is no gold in circulation to speak of. the arab, when he gets it, buries it, forgets where, or dies and forgets to tell any one where, which is the same thing, and thus a certain very considerable amount is lost to circulation. paper money, in values of twenty and fifty francs, takes the place of gold; the arab thinks that it is something that is perishable, and accordingly spends it and keeps the country prosperous. the french understand the arab and his foibles; there is no doubt about that. they solved the question of a circulating currency in algeria. new york and washington representatives of _haute finance_ might take a few lessons here. with regard to the money question, the stranger in algeria must beware of false and non-current coin. anything that's a coin looks good to an arab, and for that reason a large amount of spurious stuff is in circulation. it was originally made by counterfeiters to gull the native, but to-day the stranger gets his share, or more than his share. to replace the gold "_louis_" of france, the banque d'algérie issues "shin-plasters" of twenty francs. they are convenient, but one must get rid of them before leaving the country or else sell them to a money changer at a discount. these algerian bank-notes now pass current in tunisia, a branch of the parent bank having recently been opened there. the commercial possibilities of algeria have hardly, as yet, begun to be exploited, though the wine and wheat-growing lands are highly developed; and, since their opening, have suffered no lack of prosperity, save for a plague of _phylloxera_ which set back the vines on one occasion, and a plague of locusts which one day devastated almost the entire region of the wheat-growing plateaux. it was then the arabs became locust-eaters, though indeed they are not become a cult as in japan. with the arab it was a case of eating locusts or nothing, for there was no grain. this plague of locusts fell upon the province of constantine in , and from laghouat to bou-saada, and from kenchela to aumale they were brought in myriads by the sirocco of the desert from no one knows where. for two years these great cereal-growing areas were cleared of their crops as though a wild-fire had passed over them, until finally the government by strenuous efforts, and the employment of many thousands of labourers, was able to control and arrest the march of the plague. during this period many of the new colonists saw their utmost resources disappear; but gallantly they took up their task anew, and for the past dozen years only occasional slight recurrences of the pest have been noted, and they, fortunately, have been suppressed as they appeared. besides wheat and wine, tobacco is an almost equal source of profit to algeria. in france no one may grow a tobacco plant, even as an embellishment to his garden-plot, without first informing the excise authorities, who, afterwards, will come around periodically and count the leaves. in africa the tobacco crop is something that brings peace and plenty to any who will cultivate it judiciously, for the consumption of the weed is great. manufactured tobacco is cheap in algeria. neither cigars, cigarettes nor pipe mixtures, nor snuff either, pay any excise duties; and even foreign tobaccos, which mostly come from hungary and the turkish provinces, pay very little. two-thirds of the algerian manufactured product is made from home-grown tobacco, and a very large quantity of the same is sent to france to be sold as "maryland;" though, indeed, if the original plants ever came from the other side of the water, it was by a very roundabout route. certainly the broom-corn tobacco of france does not resemble that of maryland in the least. the hope of france and her colonies is to grow all the tobacco consumed within her frontiers, whether it is labelled "maryland," "turkish" or "scaferlati." the french government puts out some awful stuff it calls tobacco and sells under fancy names. the tobacco tax in algeria is _nil_, and that on wine is nearly so. four sous a _hectolitre_ ( _litres_) is not a heavy tax to pay, though when it was first applied (in ) it was the excuse for the retail wine dealer (who in algeria is but human, when he seeks to make what profit he can) to add two sous to the price of his wine _per litre_. there is a law in france against unfair trading, and the same applies to algeria. it has been a dead law in many places for many years, but when a tax of four sous a _hectolitre_, originally paid to the state, by the dealer, finally came out of the consumer's pocket as ten francs, an increase of , per cent., popular clamour and threats of the law caused the dealer to drop back to his original price. this is the way algeria protects its growing wine industry. publicists and economists elsewhere should study the system. the african landscape is very simple and very expressive, severe but not sad, lively but not gay. the great level horizon bars the way south towards the wastes of the sahara, and the mountains of the atlas are ever present nearer at hand. the desert of romance, _le vrai désert_, is still a long way off; and, though there is now a macadamized road to bou-saada and biskra, and a railway to figuig and beyond, civilization is still only at the vestibule of the sahara. the real development and exploitation of north africa and its peoples and riches is yet to come. [illustration: farming _old style_] as for the climate, that of california is undoubtedly superior to that of algeria, but the topographical and agricultural characteristics are much the same. the greatest difference which will be remarked by an american crossing algeria from oran to souk-ahras will be the distinct "foreign note" of the installation of its farming communities. haystacks are plastered over with mud; carts are drawn by mules or horses hitched tandemwise, three, four or five on end, and the carts are mostly two-wheeled at that. there are no fences and no great barns for stocking fodder or sheltering cattle; the farmhouses are all of stone, bare or stucco-covered, and range in colour from sky-blue to pale pink and vivid yellow. there is some american farming machinery in use, but the arab son of the soil still largely works with the implements of biblical times. the winter of algeria is the winter of syria, of japan, and reminiscent to some extent of california; perhaps not so mild on the whole, but still something of an approach thereto. another contrast favourable to california is that in algeria there is a lack of certain refinements of modern travel which are to be had in the "land of sunshine." winter, properly speaking, does not come to algeria except on the high plateaux of the provinces of oran, alger and constantine, and on the mountain peaks of the atlas, and in kabylie. south of algiers stretches the great plain of the mitidja, which is like no other part of the earth's surface so much as it is like normandy with respect to its prairies, "la beauce" for its wheat-fields and its grazing-grounds, and the bordelais for its vineyards. at the western extremity of the mitidja commence the orange-groves of blida, the forests of olive-trees, and the eucalyptus of la trappe. the scene is immensely varied and suggestive of untold wealth and prosperity at every kilometre. suburban algiers is thickly built with villas, more or less after the moorish style, but owned by europeans. recently the wealthy arab has taken to building his "country house" on similar gracious lines; and, when he does, he keeps pretty near to accepted moorish elements and details, whereas the european, the _colon_, or the _commerçant_ grown rich, carries out his idea on the meudon or st. cloud plan. the moorish part is all there, but the thing often doesn't hang together. to the eastward back of the mountains of kabylie lies the great plateau region of the tell. the tell is a region vastly different in manners and customs from either the desert or the algerian littoral. the manners of the nomad of the sahara here blend into those of the farming peasant; but, by the time batna is reached, they become tainted with the commercialism of the outside world. at constantine there is much european influence at work, and at the seacoast towns of bona or philippeville the oriental perfume of the date-palm is lost in that of the smells and cosmopolitanism usually [illustration] associated with great seaports. these four distinct characteristics mark four distinct regions of the numidia of the ancients, to-day the wheat-growing region of the tell. the principal mountain peaks in algeria rise to no great heights. touabet, near tlemcen, is , metres in height; the highest peak of the grand kabylie range, in the province of alger, is , metres; and chelia, in constantine, , metres. they are not bold, rugged mountains, but rolling, rounded crests, often destitute of verdure to the point of desolation. the development of the regions forming the _hinterland_--practically one may so call the sahara--is of constant and assiduous care to the authorities. they have done much and are doing much more as statistics indicate. in the valley of the oued-righ and the ziban, one of the most favoured of these borderlands, the government statistics of springs and oases are as follows ( - ):-- oases, springs, palms, , other fruit-trees, , value of crops, , , fcs. inhabitants, , and as the population increases and fruit-growing areas are further developed, the military engineers come along and dig more wells. the following average temperatures and rainfall show the contrast between various regions:-- january august rainfall (centigrade) (centigrade) (millimetres) {tlemcen . mountains {fort nationale . {constantine . {géryville . . plateaux {djeefa . . {tebessa . . it will be noted that, normally, there is very little difference in temperature, and a very considerable difference in rainfall. the extreme recorded winter temperatures are as follows:-- aumale ° centigrade laghouat ° " laghouat ° " biskra ° " aumale ° " tunis ° " algeria has something like , kilometres of standard gauge railway, and various light railways, or narrow gauge roads, of from ten to fifty kilometres in length, aggregating perhaps five hundred kilometres more. railway building and development is going on constantly, but they don't yet know what an express train is, and the sleeping and dining car services are almost as bad as they are in england. the real up-to-date sleeping-car has electric lights and hot and cold water as well as steam heat. they have dreamed of none of these things yet in england or africa. the railway is the chief civilizing developer of a country. the railway receipts in algeria in were , , francs. in they were , , francs. that's an increase of a thousand per cent., and it all came out of the country. the "routes nationales" of algeria (not counting by-roads, etc.), the real arteries of the life-blood of the country, at the same periods numbered almost an equal extent, and they are still being built. give a new country good roads and good railways and it is bound to prosper. four millions of the total population of algeria (including something over two hundred thousand europeans) are dependent upon agriculture for their livelihood. wheat, wine and tobacco rank in importance in the order named. the growth of the wine industry has been most remarkable. in , , gallons were produced " , , " " " " , , " " " " , , " " " none of it is sold as bordeaux or burgundy, at least not by the algerian grower or dealer. it is quite good enough to sell on its own merits. let australia, then, fabricate so-called "burgundy" and germany "champagne"--algeria has no need for any of these wiles. grapes, figs and plums are seemingly better in algeria than elsewhere. not better, perhaps, but they are so abundant that one eats only of the best. the rest are exported to england and germany. the little _mandarin_ oranges from blida and about there, are one of the stand-bys of algerian trade. so are olives and dates. [illustration: _tunisia_] chapter iv the rÉgence of tunisia and the tunisians for twenty years france has been putting forth her best efforts and energies into the development of tunisia, to make it a worthy and helpful sister to algeria. from a french population of seven hundred at the time of the occupation in , the number has risen to fifty thousand. tunisia of to-day was the lybia of the ancients; but whether it was peopled originally from spain, from egypt or from peoples from the south, history is silent, or at least is not convincingly loud-voiced. lybian, punic, roman, vandal and byzantine, the country became in turn, then mussulman; for the native tunisian has not yet become french. the bey still reigns, though with a shorn fragment of his former powers. the bey is still the titular head of his régence, but the french résident général is really the _premier fonctionnaire_, as also he is the bey's ministère des affaires Étrangères. the ancient governmental organization of the bey has been retained with respect to interior affairs. the caïds are the local governors or administrators of the territorial divisions and are appointed by the bey himself. they are charged with the policing of their districts, the collecting of taxes, and are vested with a certain military authority with which to impress their tribes. associated with the caïds, as seconds in command, are a class called khalifas, and as tax collectors, mere civil authorities, there are finally the sheiks. [illustration: _an old seal of the bey of tunis_] it was a bitter pill for italy when france took the ascendancy in tunis. the population of the city of tunis to-day still figures , italians and maltese as against , french,--and ever have the french anti-expansionists called it a "_chinoiserie_." call it what you will, tunis, in spite of its preponderant italian influence, is fast becoming french. it is also becoming prosperous, which is the chief end of man's existence. this proves france's intervention to have been a good thing, in spite of the fact that it accounts for seventy-five per cent. of the italian's animosity towards his gallic sister. the death of s. a. saddok-bey in , by which the tunisian sovereign became subservient to the french resident, was an event which caused some apprehension in france. the new ruler, si-ali-bey, embraced gladly the french suzerainty in his land that his sons might see the institutions of the régence prosper under the benign guidance of a world power. ali-bey resisted nothing french,--even as a prince,--and when he came to the beylicale throne in he gave no thought whatever to the ultimate political independence of his country. he was ever, until his death, the faithful, liberal coöperator with the succession of résidents généreaux who superseded him in the control of the real destinies of tunisia. as a sovereign he formerly stood as the absolute ruler of a million souls, not only their political ruler, but their religious head as well. the latter title still belongs to the bey. (the present ruler, mohammed-en-nacer-bey, came into power upon the death of his predecessor, mohammed-el-hadi-bey in .) french political administration has robbed the power of the bey of many of its picturesque and romantic accessories; but the usages of islam are tolerated not only in the entourage of the bey, but in all his subjects as well. this toleration even grants them the sanctity of their mosques, and does not allow the hordes of christian tourists, who now make a playground of mediterranean africa from cairo to fez, to desecrate them by writing their names in mohammedan sacred places. in other words, europeans are forbidden to enter any of the tunisian mosques save those at kairouan. it was ali-bey who achieved the task of making the masses understand that their duty was to obey the new régime; that it was a law common to them all that would assure the prosperity of the nation; and that it was he, the bey, who was still the titular head of their religion, which, after all, is the mussulman's chief concern in life. might makes right, often enough in a maladroit fashion, but sometimes it comes as a real blessing. this was the case with the coming of the french to tunisia. a highly organized army was a necessity for tunisia, and within the last quarter of a century she has got it. the french were far-seeing enough to anticipate the probable eventuality which might grow out of england's side-long glances towards bizerte, and the italian sphere of influence in tripoli. now those fears, not by any means imaginary ones at the time, are dead. england must be content with gibraltar, and italy with sardinia. there are no more mediterranean worlds to conquer, or there will not be after france absorbs tripoli in barbary, and morocco, and the mortgages are maturing fast. to-day the tunisians are taxed less than they ever were before, and are better policed, protected and cared for in every way. their millennium seems to have arrived. france, with the coöperation of the bey, dispenses the law and the prophets after the patriarchal manner which saint louis inaugurated at carthage in the thirteenth century. the justice of ali-bey and mohammed-el-hadi-bey was an improvement over that of their predecessors, which was tyrannical to an extreme. the spartan or druidical under-the-oak justice, and worse, gave way to a formal recognized code of laws which the french authorities evolved from the heritage of the koran, and very well indeed it has worked. the bey had become a veritable father of his people, and was accessible to all who had business with him, meriting and receiving the true veneration of all the tunisian population of turks, jews and arabs. he interpreted the laws of mahomet with liberality to all, and from his palace of la marsa dispensed an incalculable charity. the present bey is not an old and tried law-maker or soldier like his predecessors, and beyond a few simple phrases is not even conversant with the french language. he is a mussulman _in toto_, but his régime seems to run smoothly, and day by day the country of his forefathers prospers and its people grow fat. some day an even greater prosperity is due to come to tunisia, and then the beylicale incumbent will be covered with further glories, if not further powers. this will come when the great trade-route from the mediterranean to the heart of africa, to lake tchad, is opened through the sud-tunisien and tripoli, which will be long before the african interior railway dreamed of by the late cecil rhodes comes into being. french influence in africa will then receive a commercial expansion that is its due, and another islamic land will come unconsciously under the sway of christian civilization. the obsequies of the late bey of tunis were an impressive and unusual ceremony. the eve before, the prince who was to reign henceforth received the proclamation of his powers at the bardo, when he was invested with the beylicale honours by the authorities of france and tunisia. the funeral of the dead bey was more pompous than any other of his predecessors. he died at his palace at la marsa and lay in state for a time in his own particular "holy city," kassar-saïd, on the route to bizerte, where were present all his immediate family. prince mohammed-en-nacer, the bey to be, was so overcome with a crisis of nerves that he fell swooning at the ceremony, with difficulty pulling himself together sufficiently to proceed. the progress of the cortége towards tunis, the capital, was through the lined-up ranks of fifty thousand mussulmans lying prostrate on the ground. entrance to the city was by the sidi-abdallah gate, and thence to the kasba. the mussulman population crowded the roof-tops and towers of the entire city. the military guard of the zouaves, the chasseurs d'afrique, and the beylicale cavalry formed a contrasting lively note to the solemnity of the religious proceedings, though nothing could drown the fervent wails and shouts of "_la illah allah, mohammed rassone allah! sidi ali-bey!_" the arabic substitute for "the king is dead! long live the king!" before the grande mosquée the unans-muftis and the bach-muftis recited their special prayers, and all the dignitaries of the new court came to kiss the hand of the reigning prince, who, at the gate of dar-el-bey, was saluted by the résident général of france. the tomb of the beys, the tourbet et bey, is the sepulchre of all the princes of the house, each being buried in a separate marble sarcophagus, but practically in a common grave. a fanatical expression which was not countenanced, but which frequently came to pass nevertheless, was the crawling beneath the litter on which reposed the remains of the defunct bey by numerous mussulman devotees. the necromancy of it all is to the effect that he who should pass beneath the body of a dead mussulman ruler would attain pardon for any faults ever afterwards committed. seemingly it occurred to the authorities that it was putting a premium on crime, and so it was suppressed, and rightly enough. the political status of the native of tunisia to-day is similar to that of his brother of algeria. it is incontestable that the tunisian's status under beylicale rule was not wholly comfortable, for the _indigènes_ were ruled in a manner little short of tyrannical; but the arab lived always in expectation of bettering his position, in spite of being either a serf or a ground-down menial. to-day he has only the state of the ordinary french citizen to look forward to, and has no hope of becoming a tyrant himself. this is his chief grievance as seen by an outsider, though indeed when you discuss the matter with him he has a long line of complaints to enumerate. things have greatly improved in tunisia since the french came into control. formerly the native, or the outlander, had no appeal from the beylicale rule short of being hanged if he didn't like his original sentence. to-day, with a mixed tribunal of tunisian and french officials, he has a far easier time of it even though he be a delinquent. he gets his deserts, but no vituperative punishments. one thing the tunisian arab may not do under french rule. he may not leave the régence, even though he objects to living there. the french forbid this. they keep the _indigènes_ at home for their country's good, instead of sending them away. it keeps a good balance of things anyway, and the law of the koran as interpreted by the powers of tunis is as good for the control of a subject people as that of the code napoleon. the tunisians, the common people of tunis, are protégés of france, and france is doing her best to protect them and lead them to prosperity, assisted of course by the good-will and influence of the ruling bey, whom she keeps in luxury and quasi-power. formerly when the native ruler did not care to be bothered with any particular class of subjects, whether they were turks or jews, he banished them, but the french officials consider this a superfluous prodigality, and keep all ranks at home and as contented as possible in their work of developing their country. the one thing that the french will not have is a wholesale immigration of the arab population of either algeria or tunisia. to benefit by a change of air, the _indigène_ of whatever rank must have a special permission from the government before he will be allowed to embark on board ship, or he will have to become a stowaway. very many get this special permission, for one reason or another, but to many it is refused, and for good and sufficient reasons. to the merchant who would develop a commerce in the wheat of the plateau-lands, the barley of the sahel, or the dates of the oasis, permission is granted readily enough; and to the young student who would study law or medicine at aix, montpellier or paris; but not to the able-bodied cultivator of the fields. he is wanted at home to grow up with the country. tunis _la ville_ and tunisia _le pays_ are more mediæval and more oriental than algiers or algeria. in tunis, as in every arab town, as in constantinople or cairo, you may yet walk the streets feeling all the oppression of that silence which "follows you still," and of a patient, lack-lustre stare, still regarding you as "an unaccountable, uncomfortable work of god, that may have been sent for some good purpose--to be revealed hereafter." the morality and the methods of the traders of the bazars and _souks_ remain as kinglake and burton described them in their day, something not yet understood by the ordinary occidental. this sort of thing is at its best at tunis. wine, olives, dates and phosphates are each contributing to the prosperity of tunis to a remarkable degree, and the development of each industry is increasing as nowhere else, not even in algeria. in the vineyards of tunisia increased over two thousand hectares, and in all numbered nearly twelve thousand hectares, of which one-quarter at least were native owned. [illustration: the olives we eat olive de lucques olive pecheline olive verdale olive rouget olive oliver ] the wine crop in was , hectolitres, an increase of nearly thirty per cent, over the season before, and it is still increasing. the olive brings an enormous profit to its exploiters, and the tunisian olive and tunisian olive oil rank high in the markets of the world. originally ancient lybia was one of the first countries known to produce olive oil on a commercial scale. all varieties of olive are grown on tunisian soil. the illustration herewith marks the species. the art of making olive oil goes back to the god mercury. in the time of moses and of job the culture of the olive was greatly in repute. the exotics of the east and of greece took the olive-leaf for a symbol, but the fighting, quarrelsome romans would have none of it; the bay leaf and the palm of victory were all-sufficient for them. they soon came to know its value, however, when they overran north africa, and they exploited the olive-groves as they did the plateau wheat belt. cæsar even nourished his armies on such other local products as figs and dates and found them strength-giving and sinew-making. north africa has ever been a _garde-manger_ of nations. what tunisia needs is capital, and everybody knows it. the date-palm and the olive give the greatest return of all the agricultural exploitations of the country, and after them the vine, and finally the orange-tree, the lemon-tree, the fig and the almond. each and every one of these fruits requires a different condition of soil and climate. fortunately all are here, and that is why tunisia is going some day to be a gold mine for all who invest their capital in the exploitation of its soil. the date requires a warmth and dryness of atmosphere which is found nowhere so suitable as in the djerid and the nefzaoua in the south. here the soil is of just the right sandy composition, and rain is comparatively unknown. for this reason the date here flourishes better than the olive, which accommodates itself readily to the sahel and the mountains of the north. of the vast production of dates in this region, by far the greater part is consumed at home, the exportation of a million francs' worth per annum being but a small proportion of the whole. almost every newly exploited tourist ground has an individual brand of pottery which collectors rave over, though it may be the ordinary variety of cooking utensils which are common to the region. this is true of tunis and the potteries of nabeul. besides mere utilitarian articles for domestic use, the shapes and forms which these arab pottery-workers give to their vases and jugs make them really characteristic and beautiful _objets d'art_; and they are not expensive. the loving marks of the potter's thumb are over all, and his crude ideas of form and colour are something which more highly trained craftsmen often miss when they come to manufacturing "art-pottery," as the name is known to collectors. a _cruchon_ decorated with a band of angular camels and queer zigzag rows of green or red has more of that quality called "character" than the finest _lustre_ of the golfe de jouan or the faïence of rouen. for five francs one may buy three very imposing examples of jugs, vases or water-bottles, and make his friends at home as happy as if he brought them a string of coral (made of celluloid, which is mostly what one gets in italy to-day), or a carved ivory elephant of the indies (made in belgium of zylonite). the real art sense often expresses itself in the common, ordinary products of a country, though not every tourist seems to know this. let the collector who wants a new fad collect "peasant pottery," and never pay over half a dollar for any one piece. closely allied with the pottery of nabeul is a more commercially grand enterprise which has recently been undertaken in the sahel south of tunis. not all the wealth of the vastly productive though undeveloped countryside lies in cereals, phosphates or olive-trees. there is a species of clay which is suitable, apparently, to all forms of ceramic fabrication. in one of the most picturesque corners of the littoral, just south of monastir, is a factory which turns out the most beautiful glazed brick and tiles that one ever cast his eye upon. the red-tiled roof of convention may now be expected to give way to one of iridescent, dazzling green, if the industry goes on prospering; and no more will the brick-yards of marseilles sell their dull, conventional product throughout tunisia; and no more will the steamship companies grow wealthy off this dead-weight freight. the italian or maltese _balancelle_ will deliver these magnificent coloured bricks and tiles of monastir all over the mediterranean shores; and a variety of colour will come into the landscape of the fishermen's huts and the farmhouses which the artists of a former generation knew not of. tunis is undergoing a great commercial development, and if the gold of ophir is not some day found beneath its soil, many who have predicted its undeveloped riches will be surprised and disappointed. the railways of tunisia are not at all adequate to the needs of the country, but they are growing rapidly. when the line is finally built linking sousse and sfax (the service is now performed by automobile by travellers, or on camel-back; or by italian or arab _barques_ by water, for merchandise), there will be approximately , kilometres of single-track road. algeria with an area four times as great has but , kilometres of railway. the railway exploitation of tunisia has not as yet brought any great profit to its founders. the net profit after the cost of exploitation, in , was but half a million francs; but it has a bright future. great efforts are being made by the government authorities, and the railway officials as well, towards colonizing the régence with _french citizens_. a million and a half of francs have already been spent by the government, in addition to free grants of land, towards this colonization, and in alone land to the value of a million and a half was sold to _french_ immigrants. if one wants to travel into the interior of tunisia, off the beaten track, say to médenine, beyond gabès; or to tozeur, he should find some way of fitting himself out with an authorization and recommendation from the french "civil control." this recommendation will be written in arabic, and one will not be able to read it, nor will half the officials to whom it is shown _en route_; but one and all will be impressed by the official seal, the parchment, the heading "praise to allah the only god," and the date at the bottom,--which will read something as follows: djoumada d, ,--this being the date of the hegira. any document as mysterious and formal as this will accomplish much anywhere, so far as its powers as an open sesame are concerned. chapter v the religion of the mussulman no one unless he be a mohammedan can hope to experience the sentiments and emotions born of the mussulman religion, or explain the fundamental principles of the koran. it is a thing apart from all other religions, and though we may recognize many of its principles as being good and worthy, only one of the faithful can really absorb them as a part of his daily life. the one underlying tenet which we all recognize as being something understood of all people, be they fanatics or not, is that of the purification by water. no mussulman commences his devotions without first washing himself; he may take a conventional bath; he may wash his feet, face and hands; or he may go through a mere perfunctory sprinkling; but the form or ceremony has been complied with, and then, and then only, may he invoke allah and his prophet. from the atlantic to the malay seas, from turkestan to the congo, more than two [illustration: the world of islam] hundred millions of men proclaim that there is no god but allah and that mohammed is his prophet. besides these well-defined geographical limits, the mohammedans are everywhere. you find them in china, in japan, in india, in the philippines, and scattered throughout continental europe. the strength of islam is everywhere in evidence. and whether it is mere tribal warfare that brings it to our notice, or a "holy war" against the infidels of christians, as is really the case in morocco at the present time, it is to be reckoned with as a power, as much so as the "yellow plague" of the chinese and japanese. in all islamic lands religion stands first. the sultans--those of constantinople and fez--are religious heads even before they are accounted as chiefs of the state. and through its sub-heads and brotherhoods and secret societies, islamism is spreading with a rapidity which most of the supposedly worldly-wise have hitherto ignored entirely. in the african possessions of france alone there are in the neighbourhood of a hundred head-centres of islamism which, until a very recent time, preached obstruction to the foreigner--and perhaps still does so in secret. france came to know and realize this very soon, and when she took over the civil and military charge of algeria and tunisia, she recognized the only successful policy as being one of coöperation and not of coercion. three hundred organizations, then,--more religious sects or communities than political divisions of a people--were kept intact in most instances, and the sheiks who formerly got obedience from their people as the sub-religious heads of this vast organization became practically mayors, councillors and justices of the peace. it was the only thing to do, and how well it has worked is best shown by the fact that algeria has become the most flourishing and loyal of all french colonies. these sheiks of algeria and tunisia, to whom france has granted so much complimentary power, contributed in cash, in , the sum of sixteen millions of francs which they had collected of their fellow mussulmans. a gigantic sum when it is realized that it may originally have been paid to the sheik in kind, a quintal of wheat, a half dozen sheep, or a few hundred kilos of dates. the sheik doubtless makes something for himself as all this commodity passes through his hands, but what would you, official sinning is not confined to mohammedans. in return for his services the arab sheik, the emissary of the french civil control, gets a more modest salary than would his gallic substitute, and he does his work more efficiently. his powers, with the backing of france, have been largely increased, even with his own people, and he is a part of a great political machine. he may even be a very learned person, an expert linguist in french, and the bearer of many decorations, even the grand cross of the legion of honour. is it any wonder that his country is peaceful and everybody satisfied! he breaks out once and again with some childish, petulant protest and compromises the whole thing; but then some french official at headquarters makes him a present of a gross of wax candles, a bird-cage or a phonograph, and again everything runs smoothly for a space. before the time of mohammed the arabs professed diverse religions; some were christians; some were jews; some were fire-worshippers; and some mere idol-worshippers. among this latter were a sect who made great idols of dough which in time became baked or very nearly petrified, and thus served the tribe of the beni hafa as food in time of famine. a very practical religion this! [illustration: [arabic] "there is no god but allah and mohammed is his prophet." ] the faith of islam is an obscure thing. it is supposedly a compound of the christian and hebrew religions--with variations. the sects of islam are many, the two chief being the shiites and the sunnites. the former recognized ali, the cousin of mohammed, as the true successor of the prophet, and collectively they form the major part of the mussulman faith of india and persia. the orthodox followers of the prophet, the faithful of turkey, arabia, egypt, algeria, tunisia and morocco, have added to the precepts of the koran the books of traditional sayings and maxims of the prophet (a sort of apocrypha, it would seem), and recognize as his successors the first four kalifs--those of bagdad, cairo, constantinople and fez--as the legitimate successors of mohammed. this chief orthodox sect is further subdivided into hanefites, malikites, shafiites and hanabites,--foundations of various relations of the prophet. they vary somewhat in their interpretations of the koran and certain conclusions with regard to the "law" of the prophet, but they are as one with regard to the precepts of purification, prayer, fasting, pilgrimage and charity towards their fellow men, and against the outside world of infidels. the arabs and _berbères arabisés_ of north africa are mostly hanefites and malikites. five times a day the mussulman prays: (i) at _fedjeur_ (daybreak--before sunrise); (ii) at _eulam_ (after meridian); (iii) at _dohar_ (midway between noon and nightfall); (iv) at _aseur_ (just after sunset, when his day of labour is finished); and (v) at _mogreb_ (when night actually falls). there is sometimes a sixth prayer at _eucha_ (supper-time). not all professing mussulmans pray five times a day. there are backsliders in the mussulman religion as in other religions; but both in the cities and the countryside the truly devout, singly, or even in groups of a score or a hundred at a time, make their "sunset devotions" with regularity and impressiveness. the devout arab will dismount from his horse, mule or camel, will come out of his tent or house, and will even alight from a railway train or diligence if opportunity offers, and say his sunset prayer in the open air. the mussulman does not invariably need the stimulus of a temple to express himself towards his god. in that respect he is certainly far ahead of some of the other sects found throughout the world. the spectacle of the mussulman's sunset prayer in the desert--standing barefooted on his little rug or carpet and facing the east and mecca--is impressive beyond words; and not even the most skeptical would deny to the simple faith of islam the virtues granted to many religions more ceremoniously complicated. the ceremonies in the mosques are less impressive than those in the open air. the following résumé of the symbolism of the eight positions of the mussulmans' prayer explains the attitudes and postures that one remarks everywhere in the world of islam. i. standing. "i offer my god, with sincere heart and with my face towards mecca, two _rakôh_ (prayers). ii. still standing, but with open palms raised to each side of the face, the thumbs touching the ears--"god is great!" iii. still standing; with the right hand crossing the left over the chest, he repeats, "holiness to thee, oh, god! praise be to [illustration: _the eight positions of the praying mussulman_] thee! great is thy name!"--and other prayers from the koran. iv. still standing; the body inclined forward and the hands, with fingers separated, placed upon the knees. "i extol the sanctity of the great god!" v. falling upon the knees--"god is great!" vi. still on the knees he makes a bow (three times repeated), the forehead and nose touching the ground, "i extol the sanctity of my god, the most high!" this practically finishes one _rakôh_, but there are usually added certain recitations from the first chapter of the koran, with perhaps a repetition of the postures. vii. before finally leaving the place of prayer the act of witness, _tashabhud_, is given. he raises the forefinger of his right hand and repeats: "i affirm that there is no god but god and that mohammed is the apostle of god." viii. the last position is the _munjat_, or supplication, when are repeated certain suitable verses of the koran. christ enters into the mussulman religion as one of the prophets of god. they believe that christ was, before the coming of mohammed, the greatest of all prophets. all good mussulmans recite the prayers of their beads, just as all good catholics say their chaplets. the mussulman has a string of ninety-nine beads, each standing for one of the ninety-nine perfections of allah. this rosary is often elaborate and costly, interspersed here and there with jewels; but more often than not, even with wealthy mussulmans, it is a string of crude wooden beads. the faith of islam is a simple one, not a showy one. the friday prayer at the mosques is one of the events to see in a mussulman country. public prayer is a social event with mohammedans, as it is with many christians. soon after the sun has marked high noon, and while the siesta is still the chief blessing with many, the throng follows the first _zoual_ or call of the _muezzin_. everything is burning and brilliant under an ardent southern sun, and a scintillating, dazzling reflection comes from each whitewashed wall until one is almost blinded. after this the cool shadows of the mosque are most refreshing. barefooted the mussulman throng threads its way among the myriad pillars of the court and enters the sanctuary where daylight filters dimly through a sieve of iron-latticed windows. praying men are everywhere,--men of the town, and nomad arabs from the desert whose business has brought them thither. the women are all at the cemetery talking scandal, for except on special occasions, the mussulman women are not admitted to the holy day (friday) prayers in the mosques. this is in accordance to the law of the prophet. under a great dome a ruddier, more brilliant light showers down on the students and professors who psalm the verses of the koran in a monotonous wail; while still farther to the rear is the infants' school, whose pupils repeat their lessons in crackling singsong voices all day long to a pair of bearded, turbaned elders. here and there, backed up against a pillar, a _taleb_ recites his litany to the prophet. all these voices blend in a murmur undistinguishable from any other conglomerate sound, except that it is manifestly human. suddenly, from high above, on the gallery of the minaret, rings out the _muezzin's_ second call to prayer, and like the reverberant light, it seems to filter down from the unknown. with face towards mecca the _imam_ reads [illustration: _the muezzin's call to prayer_] the khotba, a long, dreary prayer of exhortation, but no more monotonous than the cut and dried sermon which one mostly gets in christian churches. the _imam_ is not a priest as is known of christendom; the religion of islam has no regular clergy; he is simply the wisest elder among the personnel of the mosque. all through the service, as indeed at all times, a great calm reigns throughout every mohammedan mosque. at the end of the last exhorting couplet issuing from between the lips of the _imam_ a naïve joy, as of a relief from a great oppression, spreads over the assembled faithful and all rush for the open, as do congregations of other faiths. one religion is not so very different from another after all. it is only a matter of belief, not of the mode of expressing one's adherence to that belief. "_may peace be thine, o mohammed, prophet of god. ruler of mecca and medina and lord of all mussulmans now and always._" this finishes the service of the mosque. from the opaque obscurity of the maze of the mosque's interior one comes suddenly again into the light of day. to a burning african landscape from the humidity of a cloister. woman's position in islam is peculiar. it is not according to our notions of what is right and proper, and there is no looked-for or hoped-for emancipation to be thought of. the question is both a social and a religious one. those few europeans who have really studied the harem as an institution have found, however, that its establishment and continuance is a plan that works well, and that the majority of these supposedly unhappy wives really love their husbands, and their destiny. if this is so, what business is it of ours to criticize the conduct of the _ménage_ of the arab or the turk. the prophet himself said that woman was the jewel and the perfume of this world. theoretically the mussulman idea is that man is the superior creature physically, and that it is his business alone to mingle and rub shoulders with the world, leaving his wives, members of the fragile sex, to raise his family, embellish his life and console him in time of grief. all other things apart, surely these are good enough principles for anybody to found domestic bliss upon. and these are the principal tenets of the domestic creed of the moslem. he is often not the villain he is painted. to continue the words of the prophet--mohammed said one day to his companions: "would you know the most valuable possession of man? it is, then, an honest woman. she charms the eye, and is obedient, and guards his reputation intact during his absence from home." really the islamic faith goes a bit farther, for it counsels man to "cloister his wife as a prevention of jealousy and doubt, the mortal poisons, the terrible unpitying destroyers of conjugal quietude." this, too, seems good advice, like many other of the precepts of the koran. many of these arab women were born within the harem's walls, and know not any other modes of life as preferable to their own. they regard the daily round of liberty of the european woman as an unreal, undesirable state. the harem has been the theatre of their joys since infancy, and they have become so habituated to it that their life of seclusion becomes a second nature. they would not flee the sill of the great doorway into the outer world if they could, and their only change of _locale_ is to pass from the harem of the husband of their mother to that of their spouse. in the harem the arab woman is cared for with an unthought-of luxury. all the goods and chattels that their husband values most go to enrich the harem walls and floors. the harem is a sumptuous, glorious apartment compared to the simplicity with which the master of the house surrounds himself in his own quarters. it is the opinion of that indefatigable traveller and student of exotic things, edmond de amicis, that the arab concedes nothing to the european in his chivalrous treatment of woman. "no arab dares lift an offending hand against a woman in public." "no arab soldier, even in the tumult of attack, would think of maltreating even the most insolent of womenkind." and yet europeans of most nationalities have been known to do both these things. in her cloister, or to be more exact, in her boudoir, the arab woman, and particularly the mother, receives the most respectful homage and solicitude from all the household. according to the koran the children are admonished to respect the persons of those who bore them, and a verbal declaration of the prophet is set down as: "a child may gain paradise only by following in the footsteps of its mother." the educated and advanced arabs of the towns have done much to disabuse the public of any false preconceived ideas concerning arab womenfolk. contrary to common belief the arab woman is often the intellectual and social equal of her spouse. it was only the absurd jealousy of the old-school mussulmans that annihilated for ever the faculties of their wives. the portrait gallery of celebrated mussulman women is not large, but one does not forget zobeïdah, who inspired and aided the illustrious haroun-al-rachid. islam is not in its decadence, but its sponsors are awakening to the fact that they must keep abreast of the times. the friday promenade of the mussulman woman of the towns to the cemetery is her only outing, the only day off allowed her. she makes as much of it as possible, but it is a sad proceeding at best. the arab tomb is, generally speaking, a thing of simplicity, a simple slab bearing the arab words for the sentiment "_hic jacet_." the exception is in the _marabout_ tombs or _koubas_, which are often monumental, though of comparatively small dimensions, well built, symmetrical, and surmounted by a dome or cupola. the word _marabout_ signifies first of all a holy man of the mohammedan sect, a _réligieux_ in fact, one whose vows, life and service is devoted to his god. furthermore the same word is applied to the tiny mosque-like tombs distributed throughout the arab peopled lands, which are served by a _marabout_. the two entities have become somehow indistinguishable as to name. the _mosque-marabout_ is practically a tiny house of worship, its four box-like walls surmounted by one great dome or others smaller, with never, never a minaret, the invariable adjunct of a full-grown mosque. the quaint, kindly welcome of the marabout of algeria and tunisia will long remain in the memory of those who have come under its influence, as did the author in the course of some months' sojourn in a little desert oasis, peopled only by _indigènes_ and the small garrison of a french military post. an excursion to visit the marabout in his humble dwelling, some kilometres away under another little clump of palm-trees, was an almost weekly occurrence. conversation was difficult, but we all sat and looked at each other and made signs, and nodded, and clasped hands, and again nodded a farewell, the white-clad marabout's kindly, bearded face lighting up meanwhile as if in appreciation of the glimmer of light from the outside world which had filtered through to his tranquil abode. nothing ever more belied the words [illustration: _a marabout_] of a proverb than a marabout. the french have a remark in which he is made out an ugly, uncouth man: "_affreux comme un marabout_." the illustration herewith belies these words. if you are a clergyman of the christian church, and there are many "conducted tourists" of that order in algeria to-day, you need have no hesitancy in making your profession of faith known to the marabout. say simply that you are a "_marabout d'aïssa_." he will recognize and respect your religion, which is more than the confucian or buddhist will, who simply rolls his tongue in his cheek and smiles blandly. the mohammedan's religion is a very plausible and a very well-working one. he has no false gods or idols. that's a good thing of itself. and superstition plays a very small part therein. that's another good thing. the marabout is not a mussulman priest, but a member, merely, of a religious order,--a monk virtually, and, as there are communities of monkish orders elsewhere, there are also whole tribes in africa composed entirely of marabouts. they are looked up to by the mussulman faithful as shepherds of the flock in the absence of a specially credentialled priest or father. the marabouts are most numerous in morocco, algeria and tunisia, though their vocation properly belongs to the entire mussulman religion. a whole tribe of the sect of marabouts, under the pretext of wishing to be free to practise their rites away from worldly contaminating influences, voluntarily exiled themselves centuries ago in the atlas range bordering the northern limits of the sahara. this was in . from this procedure these religionists grew to such power and influence that they became virtually political rulers as well. they conquered the kingdoms of fez and morocco, and even sought to conquer spain, emigrating to the southern peninsula in vast numbers, only to be chased from there to seek a refuge in majorca, which they were able to do because of the bounty of the mussulman king of cordova, to whom the suzerainty belonged. here they were known under the name of _almoravides_, and to them was due the invention of the spanish money known as _maravédis_. the marabout is caricatured a little, too, in the name given to a fat-bellied copper coffee-pot frequently met with in the mediterranean countries. balzac describes the _batterie de cuisine_ of one of his characters as consisting of _un chaudron, un gril, une casserole et trois marabouts_. one of the greatest mussulman saints, and the one who is the most frequently invoked, was sidi-el-hadji-abd-el-kader-el-djilali. his tomb is at bagdad, but all algeria is strewn with _koubas_ in his honour. he is particularly the patron saint of the blind, but the lame and the halt invoke his aid as well, for he has the reputation of being the most potent and efficacious of all mussulman saints. a marabout is generally in charge of these _koubas_, as he is with the proper tombs of other holy men. the marabout tombs, the _koubas_ and the mosques are all mussulman shrines of the same rank so far as their being holy, sanctified places is concerned. the pilgrimage to mecca from all mohammedan lands is the event of their lives for the faithful who participate therein. the pilgrims going from algeria and tunisia are yearly becoming greater in numbers. it is as queer a composite caravan as one has ever seen which lines up at the wharves of bona or sfax, there to take ship for the east. by this time it has ceased to be a caravan, and has become a personally conducted excursion. the return is quite as impressive as the departure. it is then that a sort of cantata is sung or chanted, running something like the following:-- first the waiting folk on shore shout out,-- "o pilgrims from the house of god hast thou seen the prophet of god." then the pilgrims reply:-- "we have seen! we have seen! and we have left him in the house of god: there he makes his devotions, there he reads his holy books." the marabouts then endorse it all,-- "our seigneur abraham is the beloved of god, our seigneur moses is the mouthpiece of god, our seigneur aïssa[ ] is the spirit of god, but our seigneur mohammed is the prophet of god." [ ] the name the arabs give jesus christ. the memory of a mussulman who has departed this life is not put lightly aside with the rising of the next day's sun, but a real devotion, if a silent one, goes out towards the departed for many months, and perhaps years, after his corpse is first laid out on its mat of straw in the courtyard of his domicile or before his tent. at this moment the vague, rigid form compels the devotion of all who were near and dear to him in life. in soft cadence they bewail his death, and prayers of the utmost fervour are sent upward on his behalf. all is calm, solemn, and well-ordered, there is no hysterical excitement, no wailing clamour, and no jealous quarrellings among the heirs. above all others one voice cries out a sad voluminous chant. it is the "_borda_," the funeral elegy of a departed soul. an arab funeral is a solemn affair, though not necessarily imposing. a little group of indeterminate numbers lead off, then four others carrying a litter, covered with a flowing white cloth, on their shoulders. all this is usually in the first hour after sunrise. on a little plateau of desert sand, just above the deep-dug grave, the corpse is finally placed, the company ranged about in a semicircle for one last, long, lingering prayer. the face of the corpse is turned always towards the holy city, mecca, and when the body has been lowered into its eternal sandy cradle, and covered with a layer of sun-baked clay, and then more sand, three tiny palms are planted above. they soon wither and die, or they live, accordingly as chance favours or not, but the thing is that they be planted. this is the end; nothing remains but for the women to come along after a decent interval and weep, never by any chance missing a friday. [illustration: _in an arab cemetery_] chapter vi architecture of the mosques gothic architecture is expressive of much that a mixed or transitory style lacks, but again the roman, or lombard, or the later architecture of the renaissance, have their own particular cachet quite as recognizable and quite as well defined. mohammedan architecture, so different in motif and treatment, is quite as expressive and, in many ways, quite as civilized as the architectural forms of europe, and possesses in addition a certain feeling which baked clay and plaster suggests better than all other materials. a feeling which is often entirely wanting in cut stone when used to reproduce animal and plant forms. saracenic, assyrian, persian and byzantine architectural details are all of them beautiful, if bizarre, but the mohammedan architecture of the moors outranks them all for sheer appeal, fantastic and less consistent though it be. fantastic it is, but often in a simple, suggestive way, depending upon design and proportion rather than profuse decoration. this is why the mosques of kairouan in tunisia, or those of tlemcen in algeria are even more interesting than the great mosque of saint sophia, or the palace corridors of the alhambra itself, which are, in fact, but a mixture of several styles. terra-cotta and baked clay are all right in their way, but their way is the mohammedan builders' way, not that of the modern school architects who simulate cut stone in the same plastic products, and build up turkish baths in palatial twenty-story broadway hotels with the pagan decorations of ancient rome, when what they had in mind all the time was the fountained courtyard of a mohammedan mosque--not by any means a symbolism of paganism. our new-school architects of the western world sadly muddle things at times. moorish arabesques do not mingle well with the palmer's shells of the italian renaissance and the english fan-lights of the brothers adam. the word mosque comes properly from the word _mesgid_, signifying place of adoration. the italians make of the word, _moscheta_; the spaniards, _meschita_; and the french, _mosquée_. all these variations are met with in north africa. it is well to recognize them, for both algeria and tunisia are more "mixed" in their language and institutions than any other lands yet become affected of twentieth-century tourists. the mixture is perhaps the more likable because of its catholicity. it is certainly more interesting; but school-board and self-taught linguists will need all their wits about them to make the most of the soft, sweet tongue of a desert arab who lisps first in french, then in spanish and then in italian, with perhaps an "_oh, yes!_" or an "_all right!_" here and there. he modestly reserves his own arabic for an exclusive harangue among his intimates. the conventional type of mosque is undoubtedly reminiscent of the greek basilica, but in every way more amply disposed. the plan herewith is the accepted conventional type of great mosque before it got crowded up in the cities. to-day in most large towns and cities the mosque has been shorn of many of its attributes, leaving only the inner sanctuaries remaining. the plainness of the exterior of the mosques of north africa is no indication of the gorgeousness of their interiors. an imposing sobriety of exterior, of all the mosques of islam [illustration: _ground plan of a mosque_ a outer court. b inner court or sahn. c pulpits on which the koran is placed. d fountain. e tribune from which the muezzin calls to prayer. f three praying-niches. g horses and camels. h strangers. i bath. j drinking-fountain. k well.] in the moghreb, from tlemcen to kairouan, invariably clothes dentelled sculpture and mouldings, fine rugs and hangings, and a labyrinth of architectural fantasies possessed by no other class of civil or religious edifices extant. the architecture of the mosques of algeria and tunisia, as of those of constantinople and cairo, is the apotheosis of a mysterious symbolism, at which the infidel can but wonder and speculate. he will never understand it, at least he will never feel it as does the mussulman himself. it is unfortunate that we outsiders are thought of as unbelievers, but so it is. one does not forget that even twentieth-century arab gamins at suez and port saïd revile the christian with their guttural: "_ya nasrani kalb awani!_" this venerable abuse means nothing more or less than: "o nazarene o dog obscene!" this comes down from tradition, for the same thing is recounted in percy's "reliques." there, in a certain anecdote, a knight calls his mussulman opponent "_unchristian hound_," to which the retort courteous was given as, "christen dogge." of all the dainty features of a moorish mosque none appeals to the artist as does the minaret. minaret is the arab name for a chandelier, lantern, signal fire, and finally the slim, graceful tower of purely arab origin. properly speaking it is in the application to the mussulman place of worship, the mosque, that we know the minaret in its most poetic form. in its architectural sense, however, it is that slim, graceful, arrow-like tower which is so frequently a component part of a moorish or byzantine structure. the hebrews had a similar word for a tower which performed similar functions--_menorah_; and the chaldeans the word _menora_; while, finally, the syrians adopted _menortho_. of the exotic origin of the word there is no doubt, but a minaret is first of all something more than a mere tower. it must be of special proportions, and it must be an adjunct to a more pretentious structure. never is a minaret a thing apart. for a comparison between the byzantine minaret and that born of the ingenuity of the moorish builder, the words of théophile gautier must be accepted as final: "the minarets of saint sophia (constantinople) have not the elegance nor _sveltesse_ of those of the moor." the minaret of the mosque of the sultan kalaûn at cairo is perhaps the most splendid of all contemporary works. its height approximates two hundred feet, and though the mosque itself is ruined, its firm, square minaret, brilliant with all the fantasy of the best of mussulman art, is to-day quite the most splendid example of its class above ground. the minaret of el bardenei, also at cairo, runs the former a close second. the square, dazzling white and more severe, though none less beautiful, minarets of tunis and algiers seem almost as if they were another species from the cairene type. in reality they are not. they are one and the same thing, differing in no essential constructive element, but only in detail of decoration. the arabs, seemingly, have a horror of symmetry. no two structures in one street are on the same building line or at the same angle, and the sky-lines of even the frenchified cities of algiers and tunis are as bizarre as that of lower new york, though not as elevated. the arab's idea of a street building line is most rudimentary, but french engineers are helping him out, and boulevards, avenues and streets are being laid out, and roads and alleys straightened as opportunity offers. the arab looks on stolidly and doesn't in the least seem to object, though it answered him well enough previously that the doorway of his favourite mosque should be half-hidden and almost obstructed by the jutting veranda of a moorish café, a sheep butcher's, a silversmith's, or a red and yellow awninged bath-house, and these, be it noted, were all set at varying angles and inclinations. a _moucharabia_ is a component of every arab, moorish or turkish structure of any pretence. its name sounds as though it might have some relation to a fly-screen, and in a certain sense it is that, though not an impenetrable one. it is more like the choir-screen of a renaissance church. in reality the _moucharabia_ is a lattice or _grille_ of wood or even iron, sometimes ornate and finely carved, and sometimes merely a barred gate or door. when these fine latticed _grilles_ are taken away by the housebreaker, and offered the dealer in curios, they take on an exalted value that the original owners never knew. it is difficult to buy old-time woodwork anywhere, whether one is searching out chippendale chairs in yorkshire, _panétiers_ in provence, or _moucharabias_ in the mitidja; but the arab curio dealer can give the christian or hebrew antique dealer of other lands a good fair start and then beat him as to the profits he can draw from the inexperienced tourist collector. one thing you may be sure of, arab or moorish antiques are seldom imitations, and though the "asking price" of a _moucharabia_ may (at first) be excessive, and the "talking points" of dubious value, the article in question is probably authentic, and actually could not be duplicated by the workmen of to-day for a similar price. [illustration] the native dealer of tunis or algiers will ask two or three hundred francs for a fine example of a _moucharabia_, all green and red and gold, but he will probably take seventy-five if you will spend the day with him arguing it out. the little temples or shrines called _koubas_ scattered all over algeria are not unlike the pagan temples of the greeks in their general proportions. literally the word in arabic means a square house, though indeed it was the patriarch abraham who supposedly set the conventional design upon which all others have since been built. two workmen, one a greek and another a copt, built the first _kouba_ at mecca, and it was out of this that the typical arab mosque grew, as distinct from the frequently more splendid mosques of the byzants. the arabs had no religious art previous to their adoption of the faith of mahomet. the true mussulman thinks that the form and style of the mosque and all its dependencies was preconceived in the heavens, before even the creation of man, and that that poor mortal was only formed in the image of god when everything was ready and in place. with what success man has made use of his opportunities each must judge for himself. the _mosque-marabout_ is often a monument which marks a holy place, the tomb, for instance, of a celebrated marabout or holy man. that erected at algiers, above the remains of the marabout sidi-brahim, famous because of [illustration] his defence of a french captain and his soldiers in the algerian warfare of , is as admirable and worthy a sepulchral monument as one will find in any land. the religious architecture of islam, as far as its symbolism is concerned, is a thing that will never be understood by the christian. a mosque to most people is simply a public monument, a thing of domes and minarets and many columns. the winter bird of passage at cairo thinks it a great inconvenience that he should be made to put on a pair of _babouches_ over his shoes in order to enter, forgetting that it is a holy place and that one of the tenets of the mussulman religion forbids walking rough-shod over the rugs and carpets of a place of worship. in algeria the practice is similar, except that the "infidel" simply removes his shoes and enters stocking-footed. in tunisia, with the exception of the mosques at kairouan, none but the mussulman may pass their thresholds. the fine moorish architecture which radiated from granada in the golden days of its best epoch has in our day sadly degenerated. the primitive arab of africa intermingled with the moors and absorbed to a certain degree the pure fundamental principles of moorish architecture. the town-dwelling arab built his mosques and his houses, during the last two centuries, less luxuriously perhaps than his predecessors (and often with the aid of italian workmen), but he did not debase the moorish formulæ. what he kept of constructive elements was pure, the debasement has only come in later years with the additions and reconstructions incident to keeping pace with the times. this is where the arab architect beats the european at the same game. the religious edifices of islam, whether the simple _kouba_ of a saint, or the elaborate mosque of the city, possess always a certain infallible form. the fundamental principles are the same, whether one takes an example from the holy land, or from one within sight of gibraltar. in arabia, in syria, egypt, tunisia and algeria this arab expression of the architecture of the moors predominates, but in persia, turkestan and in the ottoman empire there is a certain specious byzantine cachet, which, if not actually a debasement, is a qualifying note which differentiates the two varieties. the arab variety has always been, however, the pattern-mould from which has sprung forth the islamic religious architecture of to-day. before the birth of islamism, arabia, properly called, had no great artistic monuments. the first mosque of magnificent proportions was erected in the year of the hegira ( a.d.) under the khalifat of omar--this was the mosque of hmrou at cairo. on this model many others were afterwards constructed, with variations of little importance. these comprise for the most part the mosques of the arabian peninsula, of egypt, of africa, and of andalusia. the most famous of this class are those at mecca and medina; that of iba touloum at cairo; that of djama ez-zitouna at tunis; those at mahdia and gafsa; of okba ibm maffî at kairouan; and el mansourah at tlemcen. besides these most of the mosques of morocco are in the same style, as is also the grand mosque of cordova in spain. omar's great mosque at jerusalem was built at the inspiration of that kalif. he said to the patriarch of jerusalem after one of the periodical religious quarrels of the time: "show me a place, then, where i may build a mosque, where mussulmans may henceforth assemble for their prayers without coming into contact with those of the christian cult." then finally grew up the mosque of omar, the khalif himself working with the common labourers. thus came into being the mosque commonly reputed to be the most beautiful in existence to-day. we know that the minarets of the mosques were primarily instituted that the _muezzins_ might make their call to prayer in full view and hearing of the faithful. it is to the honour of the khalif el-walid that the first of these svelt, sky-piercing towers was raised, and its name derived from the arab _menora_. the minaret plays a preponderant role in all arab art, and is the distinguishing characteristic between arab and moorish architecture. in the moghreb (that is the barbary states and spain, bordering on the western mediterranean) the form of the minaret is nearly always quadrangular, and the tiny terrace or platform high above supports, invariably, a smaller pavilion whose roof is usually composed of four sloping sides which, in turn, is surmounted by the conventional three balls and crescent of copper, silver or even gold. the four sides forming the base of this square tower are sometimes of carved stone, or faïence, or of rough-hewn stone covered with plaster, which is afterwards carved or gilded. amongst the most beautiful of these minarets of the moghreb there is an exquisite delicacy of design, a remarkable warmth of colour and an elegant, piquant suggestion of daintiness as they rise up into the unalterable azure of the african skies. of this class are those of ez-zitouna and the kasba at tunis; of sidi-bou-medine and mansourah at tlemcen; those at tangier and fez; and of course that of the giralda at seville. the giralda is assuredly one of the most beautiful types of arabic-andalusian architecture, and was built in the twelfth century during the reign of the sultan yacoub-el-nansourd. in egypt, quaint and mysterious as the roof-tops and minarets are to the untrained eye, they possess no systematic regularity of form or feature. they are of all dimensions and proportions. the gamut runs from the square to the hexagon, to the octagon, and to the circle even, with always numerous openings too small to be called windows, and above all a plethora of finely chiselled stone. this résumé outlines the brilliant art of the builder of the arab mosque, beginning with the twelfth century in spain, the thirteenth in the moghreb, and finally the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth in egypt and syria. beyond the pale of these perfect types are the perso-byzantine varieties of the ottoman empire; and still farther east, types which are quite beyond the scope of these pages. chapter vii poetry, music, and dancing the arab is not wholly a silent, morose individual. he has his joys and sorrows, and his own proper means of expressing them like the rest of us. here in mediterranean africa he has kept his traditions alight, and the darkness of the historic past is only relative, even though the arab does belong to the unprogressive school. the arab countries, as the french, the only real masters the arab has ever had, know them, are a broad belt bordering upon the eastern and southern shores of the mediterranean, from the dardanelles to the straits of gibraltar; and comprise arabia proper, the holy land, egypt, tripoli, tunisia, algeria and morocco. throughout this region the influence is wholly french, whatever may be the destinies of the various political divisions. turkey holds the custom-house arrangements, but the language spoken with the outsider is french. egypt is garrisoned by the english, and its prosperity of to-day was, it is true, born of lord cromer's english administration, but for all that the whole complexion is french, the great suez canal, the railways and the hotels. tripoli in barbary is turkish, but the trading steamships, the hotels and most of the merchants, are french. tunisia and algeria are french through and through, and morocco may yet become french. all these arab lands are peopled with natives of the same tongue, speech and sentiments, though they belong to widely differing tribes. first of all, be it understood that the arab of north africa is no wild, savage, untamed manner of man, but virtually a highly civilized one, so far as tradition goes, whether he be berber, kabyle or nomad. the arabs' popular literature, their tales, their legends, their proverbs and their songs, are known to be many and great by all who have studied the folk-lore of the ancients. furthermore they occupy a field which has been but slightly explored save in the "thousand and one nights" and certain other works more speculative than popular. it was solomon who said that speech was a passing wind, and that to harness it one must know how to write. the arab writes from right to left, and uses no capitals nor punctuation. the arab knows two forms of writing: _neskhi_, that belonging to the common people; and the _diouani_, of officialdom. the arabs and moors of spain of other days wrote with a beauty and elegance which to-day has sadly degenerated among all the tribes. a good handwriting is greatly in honour among the arabs. "fine writing augments one's reputation for truth," says qalqachandi. the arab writes with a sort of bamboo or rose-tree switch, which he cuts into a point, and he has never yet heard of a steel or gold pen, nor suspected that a goose-quill would answer. for ink he burns sheep's wool, adds gum-water to the cinders, and makes a concoction which, for his purpose, answers well enough. we who are rather particular about such things will not care for its colour or quality. the arab, as a matter of fact, writes but little, and composes his letters after traditional types and forms. formalities have a prominent place. he "begs to intimate" and "has the honour to be" all through the list, until one doubts if he ever can get the kernel out of the nut, and the subject-matter is treated in cyclopædic form. if the arab who writes is "classy," and if he occupies a sufficiently high social position, he seals his letter with a cachet, as did our own forefathers, and he also imprints a mark or cipher for a signature; otherwise he signs himself "ali-ben something or other, the poor-devil-of-a-sheep-herder-in-the-mountains-of-the far-away-never-never-land." according to the briefness of the signature you are thus enabled to judge of the importance of a letter without reading it through. this doesn't matter to the arab, for he has a very poor idea of the value of time or even of the passing of time. his notions with regard to many things may only be described as vague. if he is ill, he goes to a doctor, perhaps even a french one, if he lives near the towns, but immediately the practitioner begins interrogating him he asks: "why is it, you, who are a savant, do not know what is the matter with me without asking all these questions?" many of us have thought the same about our own doctors! the arabs have a sort of "jo miller joke book," or "old farmer's almanac," containing many antiquated sayings. here is an example: a man asked confidingly of another, "will you lend me fifty piastres?" "but i don't know you," was the reply. "it is for that reason that i ask," said the seeker after unearned wealth. pretty bad, even in the translation; but our own comic almanacs and sunday supplements do considerably worse sometimes. the arab's proverbs, or sayings, have become classic, and he has perverted or perhaps simplified many of the sayings of other tongues: "all is not water that flows down-hill." "not every roof is a heaven." "not every house is a house of god." the sentiments expressed by the above are not possible of being misunderstood, and our own similar sayings are not improvements. chief among arab tales and proverbs are those concerning horses and mules. "the fortresses of the arabs are their horses and guns." the folk-lore and tales, current mostly by word of mouth, of the arab of the sahara is apparently very abundant. each tribe, nay, each encampment, one meets on the march has its tusitala or teller of tales, as do the south sea island communities. tales, legends, traditions, fables and even accounts of travel make up the repertory of the arab story-teller; besides which there are songs and chants, religious and profane, many of them perhaps dating back before the days of mohammed. the mule has ever been the butt of arab proverb and legend. there is a story of a wood-cutter of the forests of kabylie who, having left his mule tied to a tree in a half-hidden spot, found it gone when he went to look for it after finishing his day's work. two robbers--just plain horse-thieves--had come up previously, and one had made away with the mule, leaving its bridle and saddle harnessed on the other fellow who remained behind. "who are you?" asked the wood-chopper, "and where is my mule?" as he came up. "i was your mule, good master; years ago i insulted my parents and god turned me into a mule." the wood-chopper, astonished, knew not what to say or do. "but i will stay with you always," said the thieving rascal, merely to gain time. "well, i don't want you; you are free," the woodman replied generously. three days later, in the public market-place, he saw and recognized his mule in the hands of a trader. he did not dare claim him, or rather he could not make his claim good, so he tweaked the mule's ears and shouted at him: "so you've been insulting your parents again, have you? well, to serve you right, may you find a harsher master than i." another favourite subject of arab story and proverb makers is that of the farmer and his crops. the following is a fair sample:-- satan appeared one day before an arab sowing his fields, introduced himself and said that half the world belonged to him, and that he claimed half the coming crop. "very well," said the labourer, "which half? that which is above ground or that which is below?" the devil was no agriculturist, he could not tell pumpkin seeds from turnip seeds, so he said simply that he wouldn't be put off with the roots. that what he wanted was that which grew above ground. on the day of the harvest the devil came around for his share--and got it, turnip tops, good for greens, if boiled, but otherwise food for cattle. the next sowing time he came again. this time he claimed that which was below ground--and got it. the arab had sown buckwheat, of which all arabs are very fond. furious and speechless with anger, the devil took flight and vowed he would have no more to do with the race. this tale bears some resemblance to the european legend of st. crepin and the devil, which the peasant of mid-france tells regularly to his family twice each year, once at the sowing and once at the reaping. it is a classic. query: did the arab steal his tale from the auvergnat, or did the latter appropriate it from the former? the native music of all african tribes is of slight importance. it never reaches a great height. it is simply a piercing, dismal wail, and since it is invariably produced by instruments which look as if they could produce nothing else, this is not to be wondered at. there is method in the native musician's effort, however, whether he hails from kabylie, the soudan or the congo. chiefly their instruments are of the appearance and value of penny whistles, toy drums and home-made fiddles. it may be true that the soul of a people manifests itself in musical expression, but if so the african's soul is a very minor thing in his make-up. the vibrating chant of the bedouin arab, accompanied by the music of his crude [illustration: _an arabian musician_] instruments, reminds one of théophile gautier's phrase: "the making of music was a troublesome, noisy amusement." coming out from beneath one of the "great tents" of an encampment, or from behind a sand-dune of the desert, it is suggestive of an exotic mystery. but when one comes actually to face "la musique arabe," one calls it simply idiotic, and nothing else. this even though the stolid berber affirms that it _is_ an expression of his very soul. musical intuition is one thing and musical education quite another. the real king of an arab orchestra is the _bendir_ player. his is the most violent exercises of all the players. the _bendir_ is a drum, a sort of a cross between a tambourine and a flour-sieve. there may be a whole battery of accompanying musical instruments, or there may be only a supporting pipe or flute. the pipe may be played alone, but the _bendir_ never. these two instruments are the invariable accompaniment of the serpent charmer and the man who eats scorpions for the delectation of tourists, at a franc a time. he doesn't really eat them--but that is another story. seriously, those who have delved into the subject pretend to have discovered method in the music of the arab; but the "hymne khédivial," which charms mediterranean tourists on the terrace of shepheard's hotel at cairo is nothing arab at all. on the other hand, the "marche hamidiè," which one hears at tangier, is banal enough to be pure arab, and "la musique beylicale" at tunis sounds more like the blows of a pick-axe on a water-pipe than anything else. when it comes to the street music of the big towns, that of the dancers, and of the followers of marriage and funeral processions, there is a repetition of the same dreary wail; a mild imitation of the scotch pibroch or the _binou_ one hears in brittany. arab music possesses, however, we learn, a certain formal notation which is seemingly too complicated to admit of setting forth here. the composition of an arab orchestra is not always the same; there are divers combinations. there is always a _bendir_, and there are _tabellas_ and _chekacheks_ or pipes; and again more pipes or flutes, smaller in size; and a _gambri_ and perhaps a _mejoued_, the latter practically imitations of european mandolines and violas. with these crazily mixed elements are given the concerts that one hears so often in the open air or in the moorish cafés. the music, if music it is, rises and falls in erratic [illustration: _a flute seller_] [illustration: souvenir d'algÉrie] cadences, sometimes brutal and sometimes soft; but never melodious and always shrill and brassy. whether or no arab music is great music is no part of the writer of this book to attempt to explain. the following anecdote of the late bey of tunis, who died in , has some bearing on the question of native taste in that line. about fifty years ago, before the legions of france invaded the country, the mussulman sovereigns of the period regularly bought european slaves, brought to them by pirate ships cruising in the mediterranean. one of these unfortunate captives, brought before the bey of tunis and questioned as to his capabilities, admitted in a rash moment that he was the leader of an orchestra. "just what i want," said the bey. "i always wished to have a band." the prisoner began to feel uncomfortable. he saw the grave danger which menaced him. there were no instruments, and to his majesty he explained that he must have a big drum, several little ones, large and small flutes, violins and violoncellos, trombones and cymbals. "i have more than enough to pay for all you want," was the answer of the bey. and he gave an order to buy the instruments. "but the musicians?" queried the prisoner in alarm. "musicians! i will give you fifty negroes." "but," asked the orchestra leader, in despair, "do the negroes know music?" "that," answered the bey, "is your affair, and if in a month they cannot play an air before me, you will be impaled, that's all." the captive turned away, feeling that he had only one more month to live. but he thought he would see what the negroes could do. so he began to teach them, and for fourteen hours a day he made them practise on their instruments, giving them--as he was a frenchman--a simple air, "_maman, les p'tits bateaux--qui vont sur l'eau--ont-ils des jambes?_" but his efforts only plunged him in a deeper despair. one of the flute-players managed to repeat more or less accurately four or five measures, but the violinists could never get more than one note from their instruments. the trombones produced a series of most melancholy sounds. only the big drum rose to the height of the occasion. when the fatal date arrived, the bey summoned the leader of the orchestra before him. "are you ready?" he asked. "your majesty--" began the trembling musician. "then play!" was the imperative command. the fifty negroes commenced to tune up their instruments. but no two of them ever got the same key, and the discord they made was indescribable. however, when they seemed to have reached some semblance of unison, the leader gave the signal to commence, and the dusky orchestra attacked "_les p'tits bateaux_." the result was heartrending, and as the ear-splitting torture proceeded the leader said to himself: "in another ten minutes i shall be impaled." the concert finally came to an end unexpectedly with a solo on the big drum. the bey kept silence for a minute, while the leader's knees quaked against each other. "it is not bad," said his majesty, slowly, "but i liked the first air best." the first air was the discordant attempt made by the negroes to tune their instruments. the leader of the orchestra began to breathe again. and from that time he gave concerts every day, and grew old and wealthy in the service of the court of the bey of tunis. if one had only ears with which to hear, and no eyes with which to see, this music could readily be likened to that which accompanied the dancers of the king of cambodia. this, at any rate, is the impression given the writer; he has heard both kinds, and there is no choice between them. dancing among the arabs is a profession abandoned to the lower classes of women, and to slaves. there are two schools, as one might say: those who go around to the houses of the rich and dance for the edification of their employers and their guests, like the entertainers, the "lady-whistlers" and unsuccessful opera stars of other lands; and a less recherché class who are to all intents and purposes mere street dancers of a morality several shades removed from esmeralda. these latter, the "_anâlem publiques_," as they are designated in the frenchified towns of the littoral, are known otherwise as _ghaouâzy_, and by supposedly blasé travellers as _almas_, which indeed they are not, any more than are they houris. a musician of questionable talent usually accompanies these street dancers, and picks out a monotonous minor twang to which the "dancers" jerk and twist and shrug, and then come around for a collection if they don't "dance" themselves into a state of coma--in which case they take up the collection first. the _danseuses_ of biskra, tunis and constantine are daring, dusky beauties whose lives at any rate are more wholesome than those lived by the same class in the dance halls of europe. there is a savagery about them and their dress that makes for a suggestion of another world; and if they are immoral it is because the strangers who have come among them have made them so. "it wasn't so before the white man came," is the plaint of many an exotic race. the gringo complains of the american and his innovations, the hindu wails loudly against the englishman, and the arab protests against the latin and the turk. chapter viii arabs, turks, and jews throughout north africa, from oran to tunis, one encounters everywhere, in the town as in the country, the distinct traits which mark the seven races which make up the native population: the moors, the berbers, the arabs, the negroes, the jews, the turks and the koulouglis. one may see all these types, living their own distinct and characteristic lives, all within a radius of a half a dozen leagues of algiers' port and _quais_. the moors and the berbers are the oldest inhabitants of the region, descended, sallust says, "from a mingling of the soldiers of the army of hercules, campaigning in spain and africa, with the lybians and gétules of the region." the _indigène_ mussulman population of algeria and tunisia is divided into many groups, the chief of which are the following:-- moors, called by the arabs the hadars; not a race apart, but the result of a crossing to infinity of all the diverse races of north africa. koulouglis, descendants of turks and arab women. kabyles, the pure berber race, speaking still their primitive language uncorrupted. arabs, descendants of the pure arab of east of the red sea, but in reality "berber-arabs," as the french know them, who still preserve in all its purity the arab tongue, manners, and retain its ancient dress. the moors and the koulouglis tend more and more to lose their individuality; the kabyle is practically stationary; whilst the berber-arab is increasing in numbers at his traditional rate,--and here and there becoming so highly civilized that he wears store clothes and carries a revolver instead of a gun. he has also learned to drink absinthe and beer, in the towns, at least those of him who have become less orthodox. there are two distinct classes of arabs, those of the cities and those of the "great tents." the former, by rubbing up with civilization, have become contaminated, whilst the real nomads of the interior still retain all their pristine force of character. the arab hides with jealousy all particulars of his domestic life, and is a very taciturn individual, as taciturn almost as that classic type that one meets in south-eastern railway trains in england, fortified behind a copy of "the thunderer." [illustration: arab _of the_ tell arab _of_ oran berber-arab] the docile, contemplative nature of the arab permits him to pass long hours in a state of mental abstraction that would drive a man of affairs of the western world crazy. the arab, however, is not hostile to activity, or even amusement, and will gamble for hours at some silly little game. the arab of the town apparently spends a good part of his time in a café. he drinks the subtle infusion, grounds and all, in innumerable potions, and plays at chess, cards or checkers. for further amusement the arab is quite content to gaze drowsily at the singing and dancing girls, the _er rnaïa_ and _ech chtahat_, who make music, of a kind, and gyrate with considerably more fervour than grace. all the time his ear is soothed by as howling a discord as one will hear out of the practice hall of a village band in america or of "la musique des sapeurs-pompiers" of the small town in france. two guitars of sorts, and of most bizarre shape, a two-stringed fiddle (called a _rbab_) and a half a dozen arab flutes (_jouaks_), each being played independently, cannot be expected to make harmony. the arab has his story-teller, too, a species of ballad singer or reciter who, for a price, tells stories, fables, and legends. among this class of professional story-tellers are the _gouals_, the improvisers, and the _médahs_, who are more like revivalists than mountebanks, and about as fanatical as the shrieking sisters of a "down-south" camp-meeting. the arab himself regards all stolidly, smokes and drink away, and doesn't leave the café sometimes for days. it's an orgie, if you like, but less reprehensible than the bridge-playing, drinking bouts of civilization, which last too often from saturday until monday morning. the arab of the desert, or the bedouin, shows to advantage when compared with the town-dwelling arab of the coast settlements, and whether he be sheik of a tribe or cadi of a community, is a hospitable, kindly person with even--at times--a sense of humour, and a guile which is rare in these days of artfulness. the town arab, the "dweller within the walls," is not primarily wicked or unreliable, but he has mixed with the sordid ways of commercialism, and his favours--extended always with a smile--are apt to bear a distinct relation to what he hopes to get out of you. if he is simply an ordinary individual, or a gamin who points out your road, his _quid pro quo_ is not likely to be more than a cigarette, but the merchant of a bazaar who offers you coffee--and makes you take it, too--charges for it in the bill, if even your purchase of a "_fatmah_" charm, or a pair of "_babouches_" amounts to no more than two francs in value,--bargained down, of course, from his original demand of a hundred sous. like the chinaman, the arab can smile blandly when he wants to put you off the track. a smile that begins at the corners of the mouth and extends so that it makes a wrinkle at the nape of the neck is disconcerting to all but the smiler. that's the arab kind of a smile. with all his faults and virtues the arab of to-day is not a great offender; he is only an obstructionist. indolent, insouciant and apathetic, the arab lives to-day as in the past, indifferent to all progress. if you show him your typewriter, your fountain-pen or your kodak, he shrugs his shoulders and says simply, "_maboule! maboule! you are fools! you are fools! why try to kill time!_" at msaken, a frontier post in tunisia, which was established only fifteen or a score of years ago, and has already attained a population of ten thousand souls, a protest was actually presented to the government by the arab population, asking that the great trading-route into the desert be not laid down through their city, but that they, the _indigènes_, be left to peace and tranquillity. to sum the arab up in a few words is difficult. he is a frequenter of that path which lies between the straight way of virtue and the quagmire of deceit. he is not alone in his profession, but it is well to define his position exactly. like the indian and the chinaman, the arab is deceitful, but scrupulously honest as far as appropriating anything that may rightly belong to you is concerned, when it comes to actual business transactions. a bargain once made with an arab is inviolate. "_ils ne sont pas mauvais ces gens, mais ils sont voleurs quand même_," says every frenchman of the arab, unjustly in many cases, no doubt, but true enough in the general run. you must make your bargain first. the real arab--meaning literally a tent-dweller, for, in a certain sense, the town-dweller is no arab--loves first and above all his horse. next he loves his firearm, which poetically ought to be a six-foot, gold-inlaid, muzzle-loading matchlock, which would kick any man but an arab flat on his back at every shot; actually in algeria or tunis the arab is the possessor of a modern breech-loader. next to his gun he loves his eldest son. last comes his wife--or wives. daughters don't even count; he doesn't even know how many he has. until some neighbour comes along and proposes to marry one of them, a daughter is only a chattel, a soulless thing, though often a pretty, amiable, helpful being. the arab of the settlements may be a lover of horse-flesh, too, but he only professes it; any old hack is good enough for him to ride. he will descant to you all the livelong day on the beauties and qualities of some rare specimen of the equine race which he has at the home of his father, back in the "great tents;" but meanwhile he drives, or rides, a sorry spavined nag fit only for the bone-yard. north africa is not only the land of sunshine; it is also the land of the burnous. this soft, floating drapery which clothes the arab so majestically, whatever may be his social rank,--miserable _meskine_ or opulent caïd,--is a thing fearfully and wonderfully made. there are burnouses and burnouses, as there are cheeses and cheeses. this ideal garment of the mussulman arab differs at times in form and colour and quality, but it is always a simple burnous. the sheik of a tribe or the caïd of a village wraps himself in a rich red robe, and the poor vagabond arab of the hills and desert makes the best showing he can with his sordid pieced-up rag of a mantle. the classic burnous is woven of a creamy white lamb's wool, or that of a baby camel, though often its immaculateness is of but a brief duration. the caïd and the sheik rise above this, and the nomad often descends to a gunny-sack, from which exhales an odour _sui generis_; but one and all carry it off with grace and éclat, as does the arlésienne the fichu, and the madrillienne the mantilla. it is the garment that is worn by the arab of the towns, by the lone sheep-herder of the plains, and by the nomad of the desert. an arab shepherd is a happy mortal if he can gain twenty francs a month, a little _pap_ for breakfast, a dish of couscous for dinner, and a new burnous once a year. he will spend all his income (for he, apparently, as all his tribe, has acquired a taste for strong drink, though even he will not partake of it when it is red) on absinthe, of a kind, and tobacco, of a considerably better kind, every time he comes to town. how he clothes himself had best not be inquired into too closely, for excepting the burnous, he is mostly clothed in rags. the burnous is as effectual a covering as charity. the arab officials, the sheik of a tribe, the caïd, and the cadi even, are all "decorated" as a sort of supernumerary reward for their services on behalf of the established government. one day _en voyage_--in a _compartiment_ of that slow-going express train which runs daily from algiers to el guerrah, and takes fourteen hours to do what it ought to, and will accomplish, in six, when they get some american locomotives to take the place of the old crocks now in service,--we met a young caïd of a tribe of the tell who had been summoned to algiers to get the collaret of the legion bestowed upon his manly breast. he was decorated already, for he was the son of the "great tents" and a powerful man in his community, but he was ready enough to make a place for another _étoile_. he said in his queer jargon french: "_li gouvernement y vian di me donni l'itoile di ligien. ji suis content d'avoir._" we sympathized with him, were glad for him, and we parted, each on our respective ways, and by this time he is home waiting and hoping for the next. what won't a man do for a _bout de ruban_ or a silver star? the arab's french is much like our own--queer at times, but it is expressive. the following beauties of judicial eloquence, from the bench of an arab justice of the peace will explain the situation better than any further comment. with the arab the irish "_bull_" becomes a french "_goat_." "_on peut entrer dans un cabaret sans être l'amant de quelqu'n._" this is good enough french, though the sentiment is of doubtful morality. "_le plaignant a lancé, alors, un coup de sifflet de désespoir._" a "_sifflet de désespoir_" is presumably something akin to a wail. "_le plaignant s'est adressé à la police parce qu'il désirait rentrer dans ses bouteilles._" "_dans ses bouteilles_," may be arab-french for "in his cups"--or it may not. "_il portera de deuil aussi longtemps que sa femme sera morte._" she will be dead a long time, no doubt, once having taken the fatal step. "_je dirai encore deux mots, mais je serai très brief._" two words! that is very brief. "_il n'a laissé que des descendants en ligne collatérale._" what is a collateral descendant? the arabs' struggles with french should give the rest of the world, who are not french, courage. they seem to care little for tenses or numbers, but they make their way nevertheless. a zou zou, in calling your attention to something, says simply, "_regarde_," but you understand, and so does he when you say "_regardez_," so what matter! the arab nourishes himself well, as well as circumstances will allow, though it must be remembered that the tenets of his religion call for abstemiousness. he differs from the greek of old in that he believes in a good dinner and a light supper. "_eh bien!_" said the traveller montmaur, "_i will dine with the arab and sup with the greeks_." the arab is a connoisseur in tea and coffee, and an adept at cigarette smoking. couscous is the _plat du jour_ with the arab. it is his national dish. mutton or lamb (_kebeh_ or _kherouf_) is almost the only meat, and most frequently the arab roasts the carcass whole, spitted on a branch. he roasts it before, or over, an open fire, and accordingly it is all the better for that. in america we bake our meats, which is barbaric; and in england they boil them, which is worse. the arab knows better. the arab eats his meat _à la main,_ gnaws it with his teeth, and pulls it apart with his fingers; the delicate morsel, the titbit, is the kidney, and he is a lucky arab who grabs it first, though if you are a guest in his tent he reserves it for you. beef is seldom, if ever, eaten, but camel is in high esteem, the hump (_hadba_) being the best "_cut_." pork (_el hallouf_) is abhorred by the true mussulman. he has reason! dried meat or smoked meat, like the jerked beef of the far west, is often carried on long desert journeys, when fresh meat is as scarce a commodity as it was on an indiaman a hundred days out from bombay a century ago. the arab eats soup, when he takes the trouble to make it, and he knows well its concocting. for pastry, too, the arab has a sweet tooth, and it also frequently comes into the menu, with honey and dates predominating in its make-up. the arab smokes _kif_ also, a concoction whose iniquitous effects are only equalled by those of the state-protected opium of bengal. these voluptuous epicurean arabs smoke _kif,_ not surreptitiously, but guiltily. carefully they wipe their pipes and cook the little ball of drug, and offer it to you first with all the grace and seductiveness of a houri. you don't accept, and they smoke it themselves, and in a short space drop off into a semi-intoxicated condition, forgetful of the world in the stupefying smoke which haloes about their heads. like opium with the chinaman, _kif_ is the curse of the arab. after the arabs and the berbers, the jews are the most striking race one meets on the african coast, or even in the interior, where they herd to themselves in some dingy quarter of an arab village and ply their trades of jewellers, leather workers, embroiderers and, of course, as money changers. they talk hebrew among themselves and arabic with natives, and they are as clannish as scotchmen. the berber and the jew and the arab are necessary to each other, whether they are town dwellers, village inhabitants or nomads. they make business, each of them, and they don't live by taking in each other's washing--as does the indigenous population of the scilly islands, or by exploiting tourists--as do the swiss. altogether the social system as worked out by the mixed races of north africa seems to be a success. one curses the jews in algeria and tunisia, but then one curses them everywhere for the same attributes. the hebrew of algeria is in no way different from those of his brethren in other mediterranean countries, and here he has a craftsman's mission to fill and he fills it very well. catch a jew and make him into a tailor, a jeweller or a banker, and he is more adept at these professions than men of any other race on earth. are the jews and mussulmans men like other sons of adam? this is a question which has been asked and reasked since the earliest times [illustration: _jewish women of tunis_] of history, and no one yet seems to have decided the question. when the papal see was transferred to avignon in the comtat venaissin (it was for seventy years rooted in france), the position of the jews seems to have been defined, and they were put on a par with orthodox religionists. but before and since, their status has been less readily defined. froissart put it in non-contradictory words when he said that except in the lands of the church (in the comtat), these aliens were everywhere chased and persecuted. this reference to the church and the jews recalls the fact that many arab slaves of barbary were owned by the papal powers in the days when the traffic was a profitable one for turkish _pachas_. the slaves of barbary were known all through the mediterranean. civita vecchia in the eighteenth century, directly under papal patronage, held a number of them of which the following is a description from an old record:-- arab names names in the galleys nationality age health papass papass tunis good acmet buffalotto tripoli " mamchet marzocco alger " mesaud piantaceci " " machmet mezza luna " " aamor bella camiscia alger good machmet il gabbiano " " ali nettuno tunis mediocre aamor carbone tripoli good these men in fact were for service in the pontifical galley. they were a fine race of servants, evidently! the jews are much less numerous in algeria than in morocco and tunisia, but they take on a very considerable commercial importance in the picturesque conglomerate ensemble of peoples in the cities like algiers, oran or tunis; they gather the small savings of the nomad races in a way that is the marvel of all who know their trade. furthermore, as french citizens, they play no small part in political affairs. what they lack in numbers they make up in power, and the money-lending trade, while seemingly in disrepute, is quite a necessary one in commercial communities. the jews lend money to christians the world over, men and nations alike, and in africa they do the same to the improvident arab. clearly the jew has a mission in life; he has found it out, and he sticks to it, and has ever since that historic hour in the temple. of all the mixed races with which one rubs shoulders in northern africa, it is the arab who interests us most. it is his country that we are in. it is the arab who must be our guide, philosopher and friend. "ask an arab anything you like," say the french, "but ask nothing of a maltese or an italian." why, they do not tell you, but simply shrug their shoulders in the expressive frenchman's way. chapter ix some things that matter--to the arab there are three kinds of _noblesse_ among the arabs: there is the aristocrat class, the _noblesse de race_, descended, so they think, from fatma, the daughter of the prophet; the _noblesse militaire_, descendants of the arab conquerors, of which mohammed and his family are also descended; and finally the _noblesse réligieuse_, a hereditary _noblesse_ like the preceding, but a distinction that can only be acquired by meritorious performance of a religious duty. the tribes each have a head known as a _caïd_, and each tribe is divided into smaller tribes and factions who obey implicitly the sub-head or _cheikh_ (sheik). the head of a _douar_,--a group of tents,--if the collection is not great enough to have a presiding sheik, is a sort of committee, like the bodies of selectmen of a new england village. over and above all _indigène_ control, the french administration is the real head of the arabs in algeria, and the tunisian french _fonctionnaires_ hold the same powers in tunisia. the arab or kabyle chiefs in algeria are merely the agents for the execution of the government's laws, civil or military, and in tunisia the laws for each province (_outhan_) are made known to the _caïd_ by the authorities, and it is he who is held responsible for their observance. as for punishment for a crime committed,--for they are not all plaster saints,--the arabs would much prefer the old turkish _bastinado_ to a sentence behind prison walls or a fine in money, sheep or goats. does civilization civilize? the arabs are full of wise saws mostly adopted from the koran, or from the apocryphal books of the prophet. they have a saying which might well be put into a motto suitable for the creed of any man:-- "_el-khams_, _el-miter_, _el-ansab_ and _el-aglane_ are the inventions of the devil." _el-khams_ is worry; _el-miter_ is gambling; _el-ansab_ are the stones or thorns in one's road; and _el-aglane_ is the argument by sword instead of by reason. the following might well be printed in gothic script and hung in our own "dens" and boudoirs along with stevenson's "prayer." "_when a woman says to her husband, i have never received a single benefit from you, all the good acts she may have done lose their value._" "_god detests those who show pride before their companions._" "_go a mile to visit a sick man, two miles to reconcile a pair of quarrellers and three miles to see a holy man._" "_when you think of the faults of your neighbours, think also of your own._" "_he who salutes thee first is free from pride._" "_god hates dirtiness and disorder._" with respect to this last, the arab performs his ablutions with great regularity and devotion, but by contrast, curiously enough, enshrouds himself frequently in dirty, verminous rags. the most detested sequence of events that can happen to an arab are ranked as follows:-- i. the drunkenness which makes a fool of a man. ii. the sleep which dissipates the drunkenness. iii. and the chagrin which destroys the sleep. the emotion has been felt by others, who cannot slip on and off the _peau de chagrin_ as did balzac's hero. the arabs explain their abstention from wine by an act of the prophet forbidding its use. one day the prophet saw, in passing, a group of young men who were making free and drinking of wine. he blessed them, saying, "drink at your ease, you have the benediction of god." at the end of a brief interval the prophet, passing that way again, saw them disputing among themselves, and learned that one had been killed. thereupon he vowed upon their heads that "wine was a curse upon them, and that not one who was given to it should hope to enter heaven." among the arab _indigènes_ to-day, one remarks an almost total abstention from the "wine when it is red." contrariwise they may frequently be seen drinking white wine, and indeed they have a great fondness for champagne,--but they are not particular about the brand, the label on the bottle means nothing to them, so long as it is a gaudy one, and so, like many americans, they drink something which they think is champagne, and is just as "heady." arab hospitality is famous, their very manner of life, even to-day, as in olden times, makes it a sort of compulsory tenet of their creed. "ida andek ktir, ati men mulek. ida andek glil, ati men galbeck." "if you have much, give of your best. `if you have little, give from the heart." never ask an arab his age; you will be disappointed if you do. the arabs have no civil register and generally ignore their exact age, frequently reckoning only by some great event which may have happened within their memories, like the "uncle toms" and "old mammies" of "way down souf." with such a rule-of-thumb reckoning, you are likely to remain as much in the dark as before. it is a belief among the arabs that they can carry on a conversation with animals. not all amongst them are thus accomplished, but the speech of animals, they say, can be learned, and many of their head men know it. they share this belief with other orientals; but there is no proof that they have learned their lessons as well as did garner in his attempts to acquire "monkey talk." the arabs, too, are superstitious. they believe in the evil eye, and they object most decidedly and vociferously if you point your finger at them; also, they wear charms and amulets against disease and disaster. they used to object to the camera man and the artist, but to-day, since they have come to learn that you carry away with you no actual part of themselves, only an impression, their attitude has changed. the arab warrior must have ten qualities, or he is _déclassé_ in the favour of all other arabs. i. the courage of a cock. ii. the painstaking of a chicken. iii. the heart of a lion. iv. the brusqueness of a wild boar. v. the tricks of a fox. vi. the prudence of a hedgehog. vii. the swiftness of a wolf. viii. the resignation of a dog. ix. the hand always open. x. the sword always drawn, and one sole speech for friend or foe. the arab warrior, save as he now serves france, has disappeared, but his precepts were good ones for a soldier. the arabs' regard for womankind has often been misunderstood and misstated. not all mussulmans have the same noble regard for womankind. the turk and the persian is notably a tyrant in his home; and, among the arabs, the bedouin is frequently a brute towards his wives and daughters; but the conventional _arab-berberisé_ is quite compassionate and liberal in his views and treatment of the female members of his family. "_auprès de dieu, le maître du monde, une fille vaut un garçon._" thus say the arabs, but in practice it's all the other way. the boy stays with the family and adds his strength and talents to his father's tribe; but the daughter, arriving at the marrying age, which comes early with the arabs, leaves not only her family, but the ancestral _douar_ or community, perhaps even the tribe, and goes where her new master pleases. in a word, the boy is another sword or brain for his family's interests, whilst the daughter goes to augment those who may, perhaps, at some future time, be enemies of her parents. from this one judges that with the arabs, as with many other exotic nations, the birth of a son brings real joy to the parental roof-tree; but that of a girl merely a lukewarm expression of gratification, or perhaps nothing [illustration] more than a disappointed resignation. if it is a boy that is new-born, the parents are congratulated with: "god has made you a good gift!" if it is a girl: "may you be as happy as possible!" is considered as all that is needful, a sort of commiserating congratulation this, and the father perforce responds ordinarily: "_zaddat di nââla!_" ("it is my sorrow.") once the child is born, the sex determined, the "rejoicings," properly called, do not differ in one case from the other, for the arab believes profoundly in mohammed's diction--"these are the innocents and the _fête des anges_ must be the same in each case." seven days after the birth, the baby daughter's _fête de naîssance_ takes place in presence of the caïd, the marabout, parents and friends. the women cry and sob joyfully, and dance with the abandon of a dervish, and the screech and roll of the _guellal_ and the flute make things hideous for one who has no special responsibility bound up in the event. the men, too, give themselves over to the dance quite as vigorously and quite as gracefully as do the women, and a feast--all birth and wedding celebrations end with a feast--terminates the great event so far as a general participation goes. the eternal _couscous_ is the _pièce de résistance_, with dates, raisins, figs, honey, butter and milk in addition. for a choice of names for their little daughter, the arab parents, almost without exception, choose one of the following:-- aicha (the life) aatika badia djohar (the pearl) fathma fatima (diminutive) halima (the gentle) kheddouma khedidja kreira (the best) kheroufa kadra (the blossom) kneltoum meryem (marie) nedjma (the star) sofia (the pure) yamina (the prosperous) yetan zina (the belle) zinent zohra (the flower) sometimes the child is given the name of some female friend of the family, who agrees to act as godmother through the early years of its life, and is obliged to spend a relatively large sum of money in supplying a baptismal present, as do godmothers the world over. the boy under the same circumstances would probably have been named mohammed or achmed and have done with it. after the actual naming ceremony the great bracelet talismans are put on the girl-child's arms, and a little later a similar decoration will be given her for her neck. if the parents are rich their children are often rudely sent away to be nourished and given strength beneath the shade of some saharan oasis, not too far away but that they can be visited once a year. the nurse who guards the children in their desert home is called the second mother, but she is a nurse pure and simple and bears no relation to the godmother. the child is carried pick-a-back by day, by one or another of its mothers, clumsily swathed in a none too clean-looking woollen cloth during the first few months, and at night is securely stowed away in a fig-leaf basket which is hung from the tent poles, a cradle which is soft, flexible and cheap. in time light foods, such as the milk of goats, cows, or camels is given the child, and as early as possible it is told or shown how to take a bath--and made to take it whenever the idea enters the parents' heads. for dress, the girl is clothed as becomes the station and wealth of her parents; her ears are pierced in two or three places, but as no jewelry is worn by infants the holes are kept open by silk cords. the home life of these early years is very much _en famille_ among the arabs of the countryside, with horses, oxen, and cows as dwellers under the same roof. as soon as possible the child is taught to pray according to the religion of its parents. each prayer is preceded by an ablution. truly the mohammedan religion is a cleanly and purifying one! the practical education of an arab girl commences when she is shown how to cut and fit a burnous (nothing of the tailor-made or paris mode about this to make it difficult; any one who can handle a pair of scissors can do the thing), to sew a tent-covering together, and the thousand and one domestic accomplishments of women everywhere, not forgetting spinning and weaving. in the poorer families, those who live in mean, ragged tents, not the "great tents," the child is most likely first set to doing the cooking. at the age of fourteen or fifteen, she begins to "take notice" of the youth of the other sex, meanwhile partaking of the fare of the family board only when there are no strangers present. during visits to friends and neighbours, or to the marabouts, or at fêtes given in her honour, the young arab girl of whatever social rank is closely chaperoned, always accompanied by her mother. the [illustration: _the life of the "great tents"_] daughters of the "great tents" are veiled from their tenth year onwards, only the poor remain with their visage uncovered. music is a part of the early education of the arab girl. she learns to dance, _yatagan_ in hand; and to play the _bendir_, a sort of spanish _tambourin_, and the _touiba_, a similar instrument, somewhat smaller and less sonorous. at an early age, too, she learns the rudiments of the arts of coquetry. she puts rouge (_zerkoun_) on her face, and blacks her eyelids with _koheul_; and, finally, colours the tips of her toes and fingers a coppery red with henna. she has her wrists and ankles tattooed in bands or bracelets; and paints beauty spots, a star or a crude imitation of a fly, on her cheeks or forehead. by this time she is thought to be a ravishing beauty. even the poorest of arab families guard their daughter's honour with the greatest circumspection, never a doubtful word or phrase is uttered in her presence. she is brought up in the greatest purity of atmosphere. should there be any doubts as to this, her spouse, even on the marriage day, will send her back to her parents dressed in a white burnous--with no thanks. dishonour can be punished by death. the cadi is the referee in all matters of dispute or doubt of this nature, and his word is final. among the wealthiest tribes the daughters are often promised in marriage at the age of four or five, and frequently they marry between ten and fifteen. indeed they must marry at an early age or people say unkind things about them. in the sahara the rich marry three or four wives, the poor one, rarely two. one may not marry but one wife in any one year. the arab proverbs concerning women are many and mostly complimentary. "_the quarrelsome wife is for her spouse a heavy burden, but a happy wife is as a crown of gold._" the arab poet says of his chosen type of female beauty:-- _hair black as the feathers of the ostrich._ _forehead wide and eyebrows thick and arched._ _eyes black like a gazelle's._ _nose straight and finely modelled._ _cheeks like bouquets of roses._ _mouth small and round._ _teeth like pearls set in coral._ _lips small and coloured like vermilion._ _neck white and long._ _shoulders broad._ _hands and feet small._ _manners agreeable._ _laughter delicate._ "she must laugh soberly, must not gad about nor dispute with her husband or neighbours, have a well-governed tongue, may rouge slightly, guard well the house, and ever give good counsel." the formula might well be any man's ideal; though the arabs say when you meet this paragon of a woman, you become crazy, and if she leaves you, you will die. all of which may be true also! the ideal is one made up of an appalling array of virtues. an arab tale tells of a warrior horseman, el faad-ben-mohammed, rich in this world's goods and lands, who met a certain oumya-bent-abdallah, and would marry her, so beautiful was she. he sent his emissary to her to plead his cause, for he was timid in love, if brave in war. the young girl asked what might be her wooer's position in life, whereupon his friend replied: "he is a warrior; when the fight is at its thickest, it is he who cleaves a passage through the ranks of the foe. he is taciturn and sober and knows well how to take adversity." this seems a good enough send-off for a proxy to give, but the maid would have none of it. she said simply: "go back to your friend. it is a lion that you tell me of. he wants a lioness, not a woman. i would not suit." the suitor for a young girl's hand among the arabs often does make his demand of her parents by proxy; and much bargaining and giving and taking of concessions goes on, all without embarrassment to the swain. it's not a bad plan! a contract follows, and finally legal sanction. every mussulman marriage must have the consideration of the _dot_ as a part of the legal agreement. the _dot_ may vary with the fortunes of the girl's family, or with the condition of the suitor; and, in case of divorce, this _dot_ must be returned to the unfortunate lady's parents, not to her, whatever may be the cause. the wedding trousseau of the young wife, that which she brings in the way of clothes and jewelry, must comport with her former station in life; but her _dot_, which may be in kind, not necessarily in money, may be as great as the prospective husband can worm out of the girl's parents. a rich arab of the "great tents" whom we heard of at jouggourt gave up the following: three camels, fifty sheep, eighteen skins, three bolts of cotton cloth (made in manchester--the "manchester goods" of commerce as it is known in the near and far east); a gun (a remington so-called, most likely made in belgium), with brass and silver inlaid in the stock; two pairs of silver rings for ankles and wrists; two buckles for the _haïk_, a silken burnous, a silk sash, a string of coral beads (made of celluloid at birmingham), earrings, a mirror (of course) and a red _haïk_, and a _melhafa_ or _haïk_ of cotton. among the desert tribes the women of all classes of society frequently have their faces unveiled; but, as they approach the great trade-routes and the cities, they closely enwrap the face so that only a pair of glittering black eyes peep out. without regard to class distinctions or age all arab women are passionately fond of jewelry of all kinds, finger-rings, anklets, bracelets, chains, and brooches. repudiation, or divorce, is legal among the arabs if accomplished in a legal way, and is simply and expeditiously brought about. the following is an account reported recently in an algerian journal:-- el batah had presented himself before the cadi for the purpose of "repudiating" his wife, "_une femme grande et forte, d'une éclatante beauté_." "well, what is it?" said the cadi, scenting in the affair a big fee, at least big for him. the cadi was very much smitten by the lady, it appears, though he did not know it, or at any rate admit it, at the time. "i come to complain of my wife, who has beaten me and nearly broken in my head," said the poor man. "it is true," echoed the woman, "but i did not mean to do it, i am sorry; i ought not to be punished." (this doesn't seem logical, does it?) "well, i shall '_repudiate_' her" said the man; "i will have none of her." "return her _dot_, then, to her family," said the cadi. "great allah! it is impossible, it is four thousand _dirhems_, how can i pay it?" by this time the cadi saw his fat fee vanishing, and his ardour for the lady of the _striking_ beauty rising. he had just lost his fourth wife, the cadi, and there was a place in the ranks for another. "if i will give you the sum," said he, "will you '_repudiate_' this woman?" "yes, willingly," said the fellow. "well, here's your money," said the accommodating official. no consideration of the women of north africa ought to terminate without a reference to the mauresque, that gracious type found all through northwestern africa, a product of the mixture of the races, an outcome of civilization and the growth of the great cities of the seaboard. they are usually named fathma, zohra, aicha, houria, mami, mimi, roza, ourida, kheira, etc.; and they leave the bed and board of their parents usually between the ages of twelve and fourteen to be married, or for other reasons. practically all the world looks upon the mauresques as social outcasts. the class had become so numerous about the middle of the nineteenth century that the hand of philanthropy was held out to them to enable them to better their condition in life. they were given a rudimentary book education, and were taught the art of oriental embroidery with all its extravagance of capricious arabesques and threads of gold. as for the other class of mauresques, the _rikats_, those who have become contaminated,--for not all are saved, nor ever will be,--one recognizes them plainly as of the world worldly whenever they take their walks abroad. the sad amusement of visiting mosques and cemeteries is not _their_ sole pleasure, as it is that of the legitimate arab wife, or mauresque, even though her spouse be wealthy. the mauresque _partner de convenance_ of a wealthy _indigène_ or european may have her own horses and carriages, perhaps by this time even her own automobile; and rolls off the kilometres in her daily promenades on the fine suburban roads of algiers, in company with the _haute société_ of the city, and the thronging american, english and german tourists from mustapha. she even dines at the _cabarets_ of saint eugène, pointe pescade or the jardin d'essai, and no one does more than look askance at her. algiers is very _mondaine_, and its morals as varied as its population. even though the _rikat_ dresses after the european mode, there is no mistaking her origin. her great, snappy black eyes, livened and set off by dashes of _koheul_, are fine to look upon; and her figure, as she sits in her cabriolet or opera-box, is so well hidden that one does not realize its cumbersomeness. at home she wears the seraglio "pantalon" of the arabian nights, ankles bare and feet stuffed into _babouches_--which an indian or a plainsman would call moccasins. over all is the _r'lila_, a sort of cloak of gold-embroidered, silken stuff, very light and wavy. it's not so graceful as the _kimona_ of the japanese, but it's far more picturesque and useful than the most ravishing tea-gown ever donned in fifth avenue or mayfair. the mussulman calendar is simple, and, except in the nomenclature of its divisions, is not greatly different from our own. the arab year has twelve lunar months, making in all three hundred and fifty-four or three hundred and fifty-five days. moharem days safer " rbia el ouel " rbia el tani " djoumad el ouela " djoumad et tania " rdjab " châban " ramdan " choual " dzou el kada " dzou el hadja or ---------- or seasons spring el rbia summer es saïf autumn el kherif winter ech chta the principal fêtes of the arab are those of the mussulman religion, the same one observes in bombay, constantinople and cairo. ras el âm moharem (first day of year) el âchoura moharem (anniversary of the death of the son of sidi ali bou thâleb) el mouloud rbia el ouel (anniversary of the birth of the prophet) Çiam ramdan aïd es srir (or little beïram) choual aïd el kbir (or great beïram) dzou el haja (in commemoration of sacrifice of abraham) the following glossary of commonly met with arab words is curious and useful:-- allah dieu--god bab porte or passage, gateway (as bab souika at tunis) burnous a woollen cloak cadi a judge or notary caïd sheik, chief calif or khalif chief, commander cheikh (sheik) chief of a community or douar coran (koran) the book of islam couscous or couscoussu (kouskouss) derviche (dervish) a member of a certain sect of religious dancers divan the council-chamber of a sultan or bey djebel mountain djinn evil spirits, demon dof a square drum douar group of tents, a community effendi title of quality fakir a mendicant monk fellah egyptian peasant ganoun (or kanoun) harp of strings (seen at alexandria and tunis) goule vampire goum native soldiery from the south gourbi hut or cabin hadji pilgrim who has been to mecca hammam moorish or turkish baths harem the place reserved for mussulman women henne henna for staining hair or body houri celestial virgin of paradise imam the prayer leader islam the religion of the prophet kabyles berber mountaineers between algiers and tunis khalifa chief of a religious community kheloua cave, grotto kouba chapel above the tomb of a saint lella madame marabout a holy person or his tomb (mark the distinction; one word for two entities) mehari a "high speed" dromedary moghreb occident moghrabin man of the occident mosque mussulman place of worship (in french mosquée) narghileh arab or turkish pipe ouali marabout oukil guardian raïa flag raïs captain roumi christians scheriff (or cheriff) descendants of the prophet sidi monsieur, sir simoun (sirocco) the south wind of the sahara spahi native warrior horseman sultan virtually king or emperor sultani gold money tarr or tar tabor drum teboul tambourine zaouia hermitage, chapel, school zerma clarionet chapter x "the arab shod with fire" (_horses, donkeys, and mules_) as a kentucky colonel once said, the pure-bred arabian horse is a fine thing in his native land; but there is more good horse-flesh, per head of population, in the united states than the first home of the ancestor of the blooded horse ever possessed. everything points to the fact that the gentleman knew what he was talking about, as fine specimens of arabian horse-flesh are rare to-day, even in arabia and north africa. they exist, of course, but the majority of horses one sees in algeria and tunisia are sorry-looking hacks. in the desert the case is somewhat different. there the beautiful arabian horses of which romance and history tell are more numerous than the diminutive bronchos of the coast plains and mountains. the descendants of the anazeh mares, the parent branch of royal arabian blood, are not many; but an arab of good lineage may still be had by one who knows how to pick him out, or gets some friendly sheik to give him his. no one seems to know where the original arabian horse was bred, though it was known in the mauritania of the romans, in the environs of carthage, long before that little affair of romulus and remus startled an astonished world. in all probability he was a descendant of the same horses which made up the numidian cavalry which overran rome during the punic wars, and that's a pretty ancient pedigree. to-day all through north africa, in morocco, algeria, tunisia, tripoli, egypt, and in arabia across the red sea, the type is recognizable in all variations of purity and debasement. the "arab shod with fire" of the bedouin love-song may not be all that sentiment has pictured, but he is an exceedingly high-bred animal nevertheless. here are his fine points:-- four { the forehead "wide" { the portrail (chest) points { loins { membres (shoulders) four { encolure (neck) "long" { rayons supérieurs (upper fore and hind leg) points { body { hind quarter four "short" points {reins (flank) {paturons (pasterns) {ears {tail coat brilliant and dark coloured this is the formulæ upon which the french remount officers choose their arabian horses, and for hard work they take always a "_traineur avec sa queue_," a horse of seven years or more. each chief of an arab family possesses one or more of the blooded arabians of classic renown. it is his friend in joy and sorrow, and his constant companion when he is away from his family. if the arab chief has many horses he always keeps one, the favourite, as a war-charger. if there are no wars or rumours of war in sight, he only rides this favourite on gala or parade occasions; but at all times he gives it more care and attention than many heads of families, in more conventionally civilized lands, give their wives. the arab knows the ancestors of his horse as well as he knows his own; and he has its pedigree writ on parchment, which is more trouble than he has taken to perpetuate the memory of his own remote parents. the algerian arab horse has been called a "mixed-_pur sang_," whatever that may mean, but certainly it will take somebody more expert than a mere "horsey" person (the kind that go around talking about their "mounts" and how "fit and saucy" was the one they rode that morning) to mark the distinction between the best of the algerian variety and those of egypt, syria or arabia. the arab trains his horses for his own personal use, to pace, canter, or gallop, never to trot, a gait which is only fit for the european who is afraid to sit on, or behind, a horse with a quick-moving pace. this is the arab version of it, and an arab horse owner will hobble his beast with a rope if he shows the least inclination to trot or single foot. if this won't break him, why he sells him to some one who will stand for it--at the best price he can get. the arab horse owner thinks with the late a. t. stewart: "if you have got a loss to meet, meet it at once and get your capital working on something else." the writer recently met an italian trying to bargain with an arab for a saddle-horse. the arab was with difficulty convinced that the gentleman was not an englishman who would buy only a "trotting saddle-horse." _quel horreur!_ "allah be praised!" said ali-something-or-other, the trader, all europeans [illustration: _an arab and his horse in gala attire_] are not imitators of the english taste in saddle-horses. once in awhile an italian or a spaniard or a frenchman wants a horse for a _carrousel_ and not for an amble in the bois, which is his idea of doing as they do in london. the reputation of the blooded arabian horse, whether it is found in arabia, algeria or morocco, is classic, and the mule, too, seems here to take on qualities not its birthright elsewhere. with the donkey, the _petit âne_ with a cross down its back and a silver _museau_, the same thing holds good. north africa is the donkey's paradise. here, if he finds herbage scant once and again, he thrives as nowhere else, and attains often an age of thirty-five years. the donkey in africa is worked hard, but is neither unduly maltreated nor misunderstood. perhaps that is why he lives long, though if the present race of donkey boys, who have been trained at the paris and chicago exhibitions, go on their unruly ways now they have got back to their homes at cairo, tunis or algiers, even the patient, sad little donkeys may take on moods that hitherto they have never known. the horses and donkeys of the big towns may well become spoiled by vanity, for they are often the subjects of an assiduous and inexplicable care on the parts of their owners, who comb their locks, and braid them, and _cosmétique_ them and put rouge on their foreheads, and even stain them with henna until they are a regular "zaza" tint. darkest africa is not so backward as one might think! all classes of native riders, whether on the camel, _mehari_, horse, mule, or donkey, beat the ribs of the creature with a heel-tap tattoo in what must be an annoying manner for the beast. from the way the native, rich or poor, sits on his horse, spurs would be of no use to him, and only the spahi, or native cavalry, has adopted them. donkey riding is the same dubious rocheting proceeding in all mediterranean countries. it is no worse here than in greece or on the riviera. "the donkey's a disgrace," says the arab; and he runs along behind, beating his onery little beast and calling it a _fille de chacal_, a _graine de calamité_ or a _chienne_. this need awaken no sentiments of pity whatever--for the donkey. they are as much terms of endearment as the occasion calls for. the most common four-footed beast of burden in algeria is undoubtedly the despised donkey of tradition. every one does seem to despise the donkey, except the mexican "greaser," who asks as affectionately after his neighbour's _burro_ as he does his wife or children. here the _bourriquet_ or _h'mar_ is quite a secondary consideration in the arab's domestic _entourage_. the _bourriquet_ is an economical little beast, costing only from ten francs upward. he usually feeds himself, browsing as he goes, and trots twenty or thirty kilometres a day, encouraged by the whacks and expletives of his driver who may often be found perched on top of the donkey's load of a hundred and fifty pounds or more. to us it all savours of cruelty, and perhaps some real cruelty does take place; but much of the "coaxing" of a donkey into his gait is necessary, unless one is disposed to let him stand still for hours at a time, too lazy to do anything but swish and kick the flies away. Æsop's ass prayed to jove for a less cruel master, but that deity replied that he could not change human nature nor that of donkeys, so things were left to stand as before. the arabs often slit the nostrils of their donkeys, on the supposition that the maker did not fashion them amply enough to allow them to breathe readily. the more readily the donkey breathes, the more capable he is to carry heavy burdens long distances. logical, this! and the procedure, too, improves the tonal quality of the donkey's bray. well, perhaps, though most of us are not devotees of that sort of music. compared to italy or spain, there are considerably fewer suffering sore-backed donkeys in algeria or tunisia. there is no question but that for economical service the donkey will kill any horse or mule; and it is clear that, weight for weight and load for load, he daily outdoes the camel. the latter, weighing fifteen hundred pounds, carries perhaps a weight of three to five hundred. the ass weighs two hundred and fifty to four hundred pounds, and, carrying one hundred and fifty to two hundred, outpaces the camel by a mile an hour. the donkey is guided by the voice, a stick, or a rope halter, which lies on the left side, and is pulled to turn him to the left, or borne across his neck to turn him to the right. the stick serves the double purpose of striking and guiding, and the stick must needs come into play only too often. the donkey here in the mediterranean countries is often very small, not thirty-two inches in many cases, no bigger than a st. bernard. when one hires a donkey to carry him over an _étape_ on some mountain road, it is often a beast from whose back one's toes touch the ground, though one is seated on a pad, not a saddle, and measures only five feet seven. chapter xi the ship of the desert and his ocean of sand a camel may be a cumbersome, ungainly and unlovely creature, and may be destined to be succeeded by the automobile, to which he seems to have taken a violent dislike; but there is no underrating the great and valuable part which he has played in the development of the african provinces and protectorates of france. he has borne most of their burdens, literally; has ploughed their fields, pumped their water, and even exploited the tourists, to say nothing of having been the companion of the mussulman faithful on their pilgrimages. the camel caravans which set out across the desert from tlemcen, tunis, and constantine (there are no camels nearer algiers than arba) are in charge of a very exalted personage,--or he thinks he is. his official title is _gellâby_. each and every beast of burden is loaded to the limit, and pads his way with his great nubbly hoofs across untold leagues of sand or brush-covered soil without complaint. at every stop, however, and every time a start is made, he always gives vent to shrieks and groans; but as this procedure takes place at each end of a day's journey as well, it is probably pure bluff, as the camel-sheik claims. to one unused to it the noise seems like the wails which are supposed to come up out of the inferno. the camel of africa, so-called, is really not a camel, _he is a dromedary_; the camel has two humps, the dromedary but one, _but camel is the word commonly used_. the two-humped quadruped, then, is a camel,--the direct descendant of the camel of asia, whilst that of the single hump is the dromedary of africa. the distinction must be remembered by all who talk or write on the subject, with the same precision that one differentiates between african and indian elephants. the camel has by no means the rude health and strength which has so often been attributed to him, indeed he is a very delicate beast and demands a climate dry and hot. cold and snow and persistent rains are death to a camel. a camel must be well nourished, and with a certain regularity, or he soon becomes ill and dies. he is easily frightened and can spread a panic among his fellows with the rapidity of wild-fire. for the most part the camel is kindly and temperate, but he can get in a rage and can be very dangerous to all who approach him on foot. the camel of the south cannot live in the north and vice versa. they are not acclimated to the varying conditions. one judges a good camel (dromedary) by his hump; firm and hard, it is a sure sign of a good-natured, hard-working, friendly sort of a camel; if flabby and mangy, then beware. a camel eats normally thirty or forty kilos of fodder a day, and must be allowed four hours to do it in. as to drink, once in two or three days in summer is enough, but in winter he can go perhaps ten days, and his food bill is increased nothing thereby. he can carry - kilos, a parcel hung over each side in saddle-bag fashion. the _mehari_, or long-distance, fast-gaited camel of the sahara, is to the ordinary dromedary what a blooded arabian is to a percheron. he can better stand hunger and thirst, and on an average needs drink only once in five days; furthermore is not as liable to fright as is the _djemel_, as the arab calls the camel, and is more [illustration: _the mehari of the desert_] patient and more courageous. less rapid than a race-horse for short distances, the _mehari_, well-trained and well-driven, can make his hundred kilometres a day, day in and day out. the saddle is called a _rahala_ and has a concave seat, a large, high back, and an elevated pommel. the rider sits in the bowl-like saddle, his legs crossed on the beast's neck. the _mehari_ is driven through a ring in its nose, to which is attached a rope of camel's hair. the beast is somewhat difficult to drive, more so than the _djemel_, and only its master can get good results. to mount, the beast kneels as do ordinary camels. _en route_ the _mehari_ does not graze, but waits for a decent interval and takes its meal comfortably. a _mehari_, not accustomed to the sight of a horse, is often put into a terrible fright thereby. the education of a _mehari_ is very difficult; it takes a year to break one. the policing of the great saharan tracts would not be possible without troops mounted on _mehara_,--the plural of the word _mehari_,--and france owes much of the development of her african provinces to the _mehari_ and the slower-going camel. the dromedary, or camel, as it is referred to in common speech, was an importation into algeria away back in some unrecalled epoch, at any rate anterior to the arab invasion of the eleventh century. the _mehari_ was a warlike beast as far back into antiquity as the days of herodotus, tacitus, and pliny. herodotus, recounting the battle of sardes, said, according to pliny: "_camelos inter jumeuta pascit oriens, quorum duo genera bactriani et arabici...._" if an arab is owner of a thousand camels, he wards off any evil that may befall them by leading out the oldest and blinding it with a rod of white hot iron. a camel that has fallen ill may be cured, many superstitious arabs believe, by allowing it to witness the operation of searing the hoofs of another, tied and thrown upon the ground. this is auto-suggestion surely, though where the curative powers come in it is hard to see. when a _bayra_, a female camel, has given birth to five camels, the last being a male, her ears are bored and she is sent out to pasture, never more to be put to the rough work of caravaning. like putting an old horse to pasture in perpetuity, it seems a humane act, and it solves the race question in the camel world, or would if the camels only knew the why and the wherefore. the camel's feet are admirably made for the sands of the desert; they form by nature a sort of adapted _ski_ or snow-shoe. the hoof (though really it is no hoof) is bifurcated and has no horny substance, merely a short, crooked claw, or nail, at the rear of each bifurcation, a sort of elastic sole--the predecessor of rubber heels, no doubt--covering the base. the camel travels well in sand, but with difficulty over stony ground, where frequently the arabs envelop his feet with cloths or leather wrappings. the camel possesses further four other callosities, one on each knee, and he uses them all four every time he gets up or lies down. these callous places are something the beast is born with; they get ragged and mangy-looking with time, but they are there from birth. the boss, or hump, of the camel-dromedary is mere gristle; it contains no bone, and is more or less abundant according to the health of the animal. a well-fed and happy camel, starting out on a long march, regards his well-rounded hump with pride. excessive travel and forced marches diminish its shape and size and the beast seemingly becomes ashamed and literally feels sore about it. but, like the conquered general on a battle-field who loses his sword, he ultimately gets it all back again, and a little rest, a change of diet, and a good, long drink--"a camel's neck," you might call it--makes a difference with the camel and his hump in the course of a very few days. a camel gets unruly and cries out at times, and often becomes unmanageable, but an application of a sticky gob of tar or pitch on his forehead usually quiets him down. the baby camels usually come into the world one at a time; and can stand up on their four legs the first day, and run around like their elders at the end of a week. at the age of four years the young camel is put to work, and carries a rider, two barrels of wine or two gunny-sacks filled with crockery or ironware indiscriminately. his average life is twenty years, and, as with the horse, one reckons his age by his teeth. the arab gets an astonishing amount of work out of an apparently unwilling camel. he encourages him with punches, and beatings and oaths and songs. yes, the arab camel-driver even sings to his camel to induce him to get along faster, and plays a screechy air on the _galoubet_; and the curious thing is that the flagging energies of a camel will revive immediately his driver begins to drone. it is a custom which has come down from antiquity, and soon one may expect every caravan to carry its own phonograph and megaphone. the chief of these airs, rendered into french for us by a lisping, blue-eyed arab, was, as near as may be:-- "battez pour nous, battez pour nous, o chameaux! battez pour nous, battez pour nous, chameaux, pour vos maîtres!" no very great rhyme or rhythm there, but it suits the camel's taste in poesy. to "vagabond" with a camel caravan would be the very ideal of a simple life. the life of a caravan to-day is as it was in bible times, except that one carries a "smith and wesson" or a "colt" instead of a spear. the following essential facts apply to all the camel caravans making their respective ways from the coast towns of the northern provinces down into the soudan and the sahara. the caravan usually makes its day's journey between wells, or at least plans to stop at a source of water at night rather than push on; this in case one has not been previously passed by, and every one become refreshed a short time before. a dozen to thirty kilometres or so a day is the average commercial caravan journey,--for a part of the outfit walks, it must be remembered,--and an eight or ten weeks' itinerary is the duration of the average journey. such food as is carried is generally of pounded dates and figs in the form of a paste, which the dry climate more or less petrifies. the arab trader, the chief of the trading caravan, and the city merchant _en voyage_, be he arab. turk, or jew, is a man of position, the others are mere helpers, employés or perhaps slaves. at each important halting-place of a caravan the sheik's great tent is unstrapped from its camel bearer and set up on a _pied de terre_ in as likely a spot as may be found. the arab tent is no haphazard shack or shelter; it is a thing of convention, and has its shape and size laid down by tradition. the great central post or pillar has a height of two and a half metres, and the _perches_, or entrance posts, have a height of two metres, and a considerable inclination, whereas the central one is perpendicular. the tent proper, the covering, is invariably of [illustration: _a desert caravan_] alternate black and brown or brown and white woollen bands, sewn together with a stout thread of camel's-hair. these bands are called _felidj_ and have a width usually of seventy-five centimetres. within there is no furniture properly called, simply the provision for a nomad life, sacks of grain, dates, figs or olives, a few pots and pans, harness, etc., and a few smaller sacks or bags, _cachettes_, where the womenfolk hide their earrings, corals, and brooches. these last are usually used as pillows at night. it is a law of somebody--perhaps the prophet--that none of the arabs' tent accessories must be of wood or iron, save the tent poles, which are of both, being made of wood and shod with iron; thus all utensils and other furnishings are of skins or mats, and dishes of woven grass, and all cords are of spun camel's-hair. a few copper pots and pans there are of necessity, and a few rude crockery bowls. the desert caravans form to-day the same classic pictures as of yore as they thread the trails and paths, obscure and involved enough to the stranger, but plain sailing to the chief or guide of a caravan who precedes the following "squadrons" as a malay pilot precedes his ship. "at the head of his dusty caravan, laden with treasures from realms afar * * * * * through the clouds of dust by the caravan raised came the flash of harness and jewelled sheath." the chief of a tribe, or even a caravan, is a very grand personage among his fellows, and when he is _en route_ rides apart and sleeps in a palanquin or _attouch_, an _attouch_ being no other thing than a cabin on a ship; here a cabin on the ship of the desert. the _attouch_, to be _à la mode_, must have a tall, chimney-like ventilator rising in the middle and tipped with ostrich plumes. generally this retreat is large enough to shelter two persons,--always persons of importance in an ostrich-feather-tipped _attouch_, a sheik and his favourite wife, for example. the caravans of to-day vary in size from a dozen to fifty camels to a train of four, five, or seven hundred (in tripoli). under certain conditions, after a long journey, the camel carriers--the freighters--are usually allowed to rest a matter of days, weeks, or even months, according to the lack of necessitous conditions for pushing on and for recuperation. one of the chief trading towns of the tripoli caravans to-day in africa is kano, a place ruled by a native chief and inhabited by a black population. the chief, for a consideration, affords shelter and protection, and the arabs of the caravan open up shop and do business in the real county-fair style that they knew before county fairs were even thought of. native products are bought or traded for in return, and such currency as passes is a sort of wampum made of shells and a few maria theresa dollars. barter, or mere swapping, with a bonus on one side or the other, is the usual caravan arabs' idea of merchandizing, and the european can as often get a native-made woollen burnous or a camel's-hair blanket by the exchange of a "dollar watch" or a "seth thomas clock," as he can by giving up two or three gold _louis_. the proper benediction to cast down on the head of any sheik who may have shown you a courtesy _en route_ is to say in simple french:--"_merci, noble sheik, de ta générosité. que la bénédiction d'allah descende sur toi, sur tes femmes, tes enfants, tes troupeaux et ta tribu._" if you can give him a slab of milk chocolate or a piece of "pepsin" chewing gum, he will appreciate that, too. the negroes and negresses accompanying the caravans walk, but the arab either rides camel-back or horseback, like the veritable king of his own little kingdom, which, virtually, every arab is when he is on the open plain. the touaregs, south of touggourt, one of the real, genuine, simon-pure tribes of desert arabs, are not given to the trafficking and merchandizing of those who live down on the coast. their chief, and in many cases, sole occupation consists in catering for the migratory caravan outfits, selling them dates and mutton and water, for if a touareg can discover anywhere an unworked oasis with a spring, he has got something which to him is very nearly as good as a gold mine. among the touaregs there are blacks and whites; the whites dress like the conventional arabs, but the blacks after a fashion more like that of the savage blacks further south. the three superimposed blouses are never too great a weight or thickness for the genuine arab, even in the blazing furnace of the sahara. they ward off heat and cold alike. one of napoleon's famous sayings, forgotten almost in favour of others still more famous, was: "of all obstacles which oppose an army on the march, the greatest, the most difficult to remove, is the desert." one imagines the desert as a great, flat, [illustration: the illimitable desert] sandy plain with illimitable horizons, like the flat bed of a dried-out ocean. this is a misconception of our youth, brought about by too diligent an application to the precepts of the copy-book and the school geography. all things are possible in the _vrai désert_. the oasis is not the only interpolation in the monotonous landscape. there are great _chotts_ or marsh tracts, even depressions where a murky alkaline water, unfit for man or beast, is always to be found, vast stretches of rocky plateau, great dunes of sand and even jutting peaks of bare and wind-swept rock, with surfaces as smooth as if washed by the waves of the ocean. these are the common desert characteristics throughout the sahara, from the gulf of gabès to the moroccan frontier and beyond. occasionally there are the palpable evidences of new-made volcanic soil, and even granite and sandstone eminences half buried in some engulfing wave of sand swept up by the last sirocco that passed that way. over all, however, is an evident and almost impenetrable haze. at a certain moment of one's progress in the desert, he sees nothing of distinction before or behind or right or left, and at the next finds himself close to a pyramid of rock fifty feet high. really the desert is very bewildering and enigmatic, and the arab who navigates it with his caravan is like the sailor on the deep sea. he has to take his bearings every once and again or he is lost and perhaps engulfed. it is the fashion to write and speak of the mystery of the desert, but in truth there is no mystery about it, albeit its moods are varied and inexplicable at times. to the solitary traveller there is an interest in the desert unknown to seas, or mountains, or even to rolling [illustration: _the sand dunes of the desert_] prairies. above is a sky of stainless beauty, and the splendour of a pitiless, blinding glare; the sirocco caresses you like a lion with flaming breath; all round lie drifted sand-heaps, where the wind leaves its trace in solid waves. flayed rocks are here, skeletons of mountains, and hard, unbroken, sun-dried plains, over which he who rides is spurred by the idea that the bursting of a water-skin, or the pricking of a camel's hoof, would be a certain lingering death of torture. the springs seem to cry the warning words, "drink and away!" there is nothing mysterious or dull about such a land, indeed it is very real and exciting, and man has as much opportunity here as anywhere of measuring his forces with nature's, and of emerging, if possible, triumphant from the trial. this explains the arab's proverb: "voyaging is victory." in the desert, even more than upon the ocean, there is present death; hardship is there, and piracy, and ship-wreck. newcomers to algeria and tunisia talk of the monotonous calm of the sand dunes of the desert; but those who know its silences best find nothing monotonous about them. it is as the automobilist expresses it with regard to the great tree-lined "routes nationales" of france--"there is sameness, but not monotony." one does not become ennuied in the desert. he may be alone within a circle of many miles radius, but each glint and glimmer of sunlight, each leaping gazelle and saharan hare--really a jack-rabbit--keeps him company, and when a camel caravan or a patrol of spahis rises on the horizon, he feels as "crowded" as he would in a "bridge crush" in new york, or on the boulevard des italiens on a fête-day. here at one side is a shepherd's striped tent, surrounded by bleating sheep and goats and tended by a lean, lonesome arab who is apparently bored stiff with lonesomeness. his is a lonesome life indeed, like that of a shepherd anywhere, and when night comes--often drear and chill even in the sahara--he slips under his tent flap, pulls his burnous up around his ears and trusts to luck that no jackal will make away with a kid or lamb while he sleeps. he is not paid to sleep by the owner of the flock (a franc and a quarter a day, out of which he feeds himself), but still, sleep he must. fatigue comes even to a lazy arab sheep-herder, and he'd rather fall sound asleep beside a brazier inside his tent than doze intermittently before a fire of brushwood in the open. who would not, at a franc and a quarter a day; particularly as the day includes the night! there is no eight-hour day in the desert. before he sleeps, he munches a "_pain arab_" and pulls his _matoui_ from his belt, from which he fills his pipe with _kif_ and soon smokes himself into insensibility. poor sheep and goats, what may not happen to them whilst their guardian is in his paradise of burnt hemp! in the little oasis settlements where there are natural springs, and not at the _bordjs_ or government posts of relays, one's sight is gladdened with flowering fig and almond blooms or fruits and bizarre spiny cacti with pink laurel and palms in all the subtropical profusion of a happy sunlight land. the chief characteristics of an oasis are the superb giant palm-trees, their _aigrettes_ reaching skywards almost to infinity, the azure blue cut into fantastic, fairy shapes, which no artist can paint and no kodakist snap in all their fleeting grace. here dwell a few score of sheep, goat, horse, or camel owning arabs, who mysteriously live off of nothing at all, except when they sell a kid or a baby camel to a passing caravan. it is the simple life with a vengeance! and the children play about in the shadow of the tents naked as worms, and, as they grow up, marry, and adopt by instinct the same idle life. they know no ideas of progress, and perhaps are the happier for it. the colour effects in the desert are things to make an artist rave. the dunes change colour with each hour of the day, and the silver light of the sunrise and the streaky blood-red and orange of the sunsets are marvels to be seen nowhere else on earth. the temperature in the desert frequently changes with a suddenness that would be remarked in paris, the place par excellence in europe where the changes in temperature are most trying; or in marseilles, where, from a subtropical summer sun, one can be transplanted on the breath of the _mistral_ into the midst of an alpine winter in the twinkling of an eye. fifty degrees centigrade at high noon in the desert may be followed by ten degrees at midnight. that's a change of seventy-two degrees fahrenheit, and that's something. chapter xii soldiers savage and civilized--lÉgionnaires and spahis algeria is guarded by an army of , men. but they keep the peace only, for there is no warfare in algeria or tunisia to-day. in the days of the roman legions less than half that number of men fought for and held all north africa. france recognizes that the development of a new country depends more upon the military than all else. the spahis, the _chasseurs d'afrique_, and the _légionnaires_ have won most of france's battles in algeria; and for this reason these great colonial corps are given a high place in the military establishment. when they have fought they have fought well, and when they have died they have died gloriously. the last "little affair" was in , when a hundred spahis and horsemen of the legion were attacked at el-moungar, near the moroccan frontier. they fought like lions until reinforcements arrived, and but thirty odd remained alive. among the _légionnaires_ who died were a spanish captain and a german lieutenant, for the _légion Étrangère_ demands nothing of any who would enlist in its ranks but his name and an affirmative to the question--"will you fight?" the survivors of this engagement all received the _médaille coloniale_ and the saharan clasp. now a more important move in the military game is being played across the frontier in morocco itself, and , of algeria's native soldiery is cast for the chief rôle. the soldiers of the foreign legion are of all nationalities under the sun. some of them are scoundrels, no doubt, or were until military discipline made them brace up, but others are as refined as the gentleman and officer of convention. we met many italians, swiss, germans, and irishmen, and the germans were not alsatians, either, but real _platt-deutsch_, from bremen. in more than one instance they had been drummed out of their own regiment for some disgrace and enlisted anew in france's _légion Étrangère_ that they might begin life over again. the real soldier of fortune exists nowhere in so large a proportion as in this corps. certain of the french troops in africa are not usually the flower of the army, often they are _disciplinaires_ sent out from home. at any rate when you see one of them robbing a poor peanut merchant who solicited him to buy _dis nois poeur uné sous_, you are quite ready to believe he needs disciplining. the arab under such circumstances gives the _tou-tou_ a tongue-lashing, which for invective could hardly be equalled: "_infamous belly of a snake_," "_canaille_," "_sale yondi, where is your politeness_," "_ouf, i'll ram another handful down your camel throat and charge you nothing, either--salop de cochon!_" the arab is fast becoming frenchified, as the above will indicate. the next minute the seller of _cacaoettes_--which is a prettier name for peanuts than we have--turns to you calmly and says humbly: "_pardon, sidi, will you buy some nuts?_" and you buy them, ten sous worth, which is enough money in hand to keep him for twenty-four hours, just because he is so good an actor. the sixty odd thousand regular soldiery in algeria are virtually military police and civil engineers. the arab-berber population are no more likely to revolt, though they did it successfully enough in , when france thought she had them subdued; and so, as a sort of police precaution, france keeps a very active army on the spot. if a nation possesses a vast territory, it must be policed somehow, and this is the french idea of doing it, for in the above number are counted the _gendarmerie_ or national police. one romantic character stands out plainly in the history of algeria in these later years, and that is yusuf, the name of the ideal native soldier who was a prodigious figure of the early nineteenth century. his personality was most strange. bearer of an arab name, he was the personification of a chivalrous military heroism consecrated to a country not his own; and france, contrary to her usual procedure, has seemingly neglected his fame and that of his descendants. it was to yusuf, in effect, that was due the security of the environs of algiers from the conquest of to the extinction of the revolt of . from the first landing of general bourmont, the deliverer of algeria, yusuf was employed in every possible capacity; and the ancient slave of the turkish ruler and the favourite of the bey of tunis became the symbol of law and progress. his _sabre_ was henceforth to be used for christianity, and not on behalf of paganism and rapine. yusuf at the head of his spahis is a noble and imposing figure of the african portrait gallery. he is almost invariably young, splendid of form and fastidious and luxurious in his dress; a superb romantic dream of the orient, but adaptable and capable of absorbing european ideas. authors, artists, and princes have attempted to idealize yusuf, but the task was futile. louis-philippe, louis bonaparte, alexandre dumas, gautier, horace vernet, delacroix, and bugeaud have sung his praises afar; but he remains to-day the unspoiled, faithful servant of a government and faith as foreign to his own as the red indian is to the parisian. homage! frenchmen and algerians, and all others who know and love the land which smiles so bravely under the african sun, to yusuf the warrior, the diplomat, and _chien fidèle_! the spahis, or native soldiery, made up from the yusufs of all algeria, are in great repute with their european officers, whatever the bureaucrats of the boulevard saint germain may think. to the former he has: "la main toujours ouverte, le sabre toujours tiré, une seule parole," and he is obedient to his superiors. this is a good formula upon which to mould a soldier. the spahis and turcos of algeria fought for france, too, on the mainland, in that unhappy and unnecessary "woman's war" with germany in . the germans protested against the employment of these "savages;" but the precept was england's when she enlisted the red man against the north american colonist in , and then, too, she hired hessians for the job (who were germans) and according to the traditionary tales concerning those mercenaries, they came about as near being "savages" as anything which ever walked on two feet. the "chanson du spahi" is a classic in the land. it recounts in dulcet french phrase the whole life of one of these noble native soldiery enlisted in the ranks of the french army organization. it is a veritable odyssey, commencing with:-- "j'e'tais jeune, le cadet dans la tente de mon père. le cadet de ses fils beaux comme des lions," and ending with:-- "qui pleurera sur la tombe du soldat orphelin." the spahi's costume is fearfully and wonderfully made. it is gorgeous beyond that of [illustration: a capitan of spahi] any other soldiery; and yet it is most suitable for campaigning after the spahi fashion. the waving burnous, the _haïk_, the broidered vest, the turban wound with camel's-hair, red boots, and much gold braid make the spahi dazzling to behold. when it comes to the accoutrements of his horse the same thing is true. his saddle is a veritable seat, not a mere pad, and weighs ten times as much as a european saddle, his stirrups alone weighing as much. instead of a single blanket, the spahi trooper has a half a dozen variegated saddle-cloths, very spectacular, if not useful. the barracks of the native soldiers in algeria are bare, but with european fitments of iron bedsteads, etc. the religion of the mussulman does not demand, nor indeed permit pictures or images of his god; and so, any substitute for the _ikons_ of the russian, and the crucifixes of the french soldier are absent. in algeria, besides the spahis and the _tirailleurs_, each so picturesque whenever grouped with the north african landscape, there is a special field force of men from the south, pure arab types, men of the desert, and scouts of the very first rank. all these military types are what is defined as native voluntary soldiery, the _indigène_ not being subject to military conscription. perhaps they are the better soldiers for this, since they adopt it voluntarily as a profession, but a discussion of the subject is not one of sufficient moment to take space here. [illustration: some native soldiery] each tribe of the south--whose civil administration, be it recalled, is in the hands of the native sheik and the cadi--is bound to furnish, at the need of the french government, whether for service within the limits of algeria or out of it, a group of a certain proportionate size of able-bodied fighting men. these voluntary fighters of the open country, known as _goums_, are versed in many of the wiles of warfare of which the garrison-trained soldier is ignorant; and, upon a simple requisition, the chief of a tribe is bound to furnish his quota of these plainsmen. it is a duty owed to the french government for the protection and lawful status which it gives each individual tribe and its members; and this soldiery is not only voluntary, but serves, without salary, drawing only munitions of war and nourishment from the public war-chest, and furnishing even its own horses and guns. the _goum_ is a picturesque and original type of soldier. he rides a stocky arabian horse, gaily caparisoned with a gaudy parti-coloured harness and saddle-cloth, and sits in a high-backed saddle, as if on a throne. his costume is fascinating, if crude, in the flowing lines of his burnous, his boots of bright red or yellow leather, and his great high-crowned straw hat, like no other form of head-gear on earth except the mexican's _sombrero_. he is proud of his occupation, and would rather fight than eat, at least one judges that this is the case in that he fights for france without pay. the _goums_ are a sort of savage soldiery, if you like to think of them as such, but they are not _guerillas_. their efficacy in various little wars has been tried and tried again; and, recently, in morocco, the first successful raids into the open country of the fanatical moroccans were only made possible by the lances of a column of _goums_ which only the day before had landed at casablanca from the steamer from oran. regular soldiery has to get acclimated when fighting in a new and untried country, but the _goum_ of the sud-algerien got down to business immediately in morocco and gave the french a firm grasp on things, whilst the regular troops, also imported from the plains of algeria, were getting used to the mountains, and the garrison troops of tizi-ouzou were trying to adapt themselves to the mode of life necessary for good health in a seaport town. the ways of most war departments in moving troops about from one strategic point to another have ever been erratic, and that of the french is no exception. the _goum_ of algeria saved the day for france in algeria, and perhaps by the time these lines are printed will [illustration: a goum] have added another gem to the colonial diadem of france. if not so soon, why later on. there is a current story in military circles in algeria concerning the gift of an arab chief to a french general commanding a division. it was not gold or jewels or goods of any kind, but a simple, secret admonition: "_never trust an arab--not even me._" with variations this may be true enough, but the average traveller among these now loyal french citizens will have no cause to regret any little confidences he may commit to a friendly arab or berber; though, of the two, the latter being certainly the more faithful. the railway, the telegraph, and the military have developed algeria to what it is to-day. the arab originally did not love the french, indeed he had no cause to, for they came and overran his country and put down abuses which he did not wish to have put down; but he has become philosophical, and has recognized that the iron horse forms a better means of transport than his mules and camels for the stuffs and goods of his trade and barter. he is commercial enough to want to do more business and make more money, so he tolerates the french; and, since his first experiences with the new order of things, he has prospered beyond his wildest dreams. that has civilized and subdued the arab in french africa. it would subdue any savage. the _fantasia_ is the classic diversion and showing-off pace of algeria's spahi cavalry. no great function, local or otherwise, is complete without a _fantasia_, and here the spahi is at his uncontrolled best. he rides dashingly around the field of the manoeuvres, slashing with his sword at a leathern dummy of a man or a wooden ball on the top of a post, or with his stocky carbine shoots from the saddle, leaps hurdles, or throws his firearm high in the air and catches it again on its fall. all the time his charger is rushing about wildly and without method. the whole is a veritable military orgie of target-shooting, steeplechasing, marching and countermarching, and all with as picturesque a personnel and costuming as a circus. it is mimic savage warfare uncontrolled, and far more real and warlike than the goose-step evolutions of european armies. the fantasia is a spontaneous, every-man-on-his-own sort of an affair. the smell of gunpowder is in the air, and no wild west or cossack horseman ever gave half so vivid an example of agility as does a spahi or a _goum_ on his african _jour de fête_. chapter xiii from oran to the morocco frontier the western gateway to french africa is through oran, which, with its , inhabitants, is the second city of algeria. its chief attraction for the tourist who has seen, or is about to see, the rest of the country is its magnificent site and the recollection of the momentous history of its past. the most striking characteristic of its life and manners is the manifest spanish influence which is over all, a relic of days gone by. even the chief city gate, the porte d'espagne, still bears the ornamental escutcheons of the old madrillenian governors; and, three kilometres distant from the centre of the town, are the celebrated "_bains de la reine_," a remembrance of the epoch when jeanne, "la folle," daughter of ferdinand the catholic and isabella, the mother of charles v, took the baths there in state, "in company with a brilliant cortège of knights and ladies." bathing was more of a public ceremony then than now, evidently. one aspect of the life at oran which one does not remark elsewhere is the numbers of moroccans who slowly amble up and down, doing nothing, and living apparently in some mysterious fashion. the moroccan of to-day is the typical berber of our imagination, swarthy, lithe, and scraggy-bearded. he is not lovely to look upon, but he is picturesque. one of the chief sights to be noted in the markets of oran is the fruit market; and the principal article of commerce is the grenadine, a historic and classic fruit, and the one the most in favour with the arab or berber of simple tastes. it is not without reason that he chooses this delicious fruit; for it is food and drink in one. d'annunzio called the grenadine an "_écrin en cuir vermeil, surmonté de la couronne d'un roi donateur_," and the description is faithful and poetic enough for any man. the arab _toubibs_, or doctors, believe it to be an efficacious remedy for all ills, and that its seed originally descended from the skies, a gift from heaven to struggling humanity. it is certainly very beneficent as a remedy for tropical fevers. one will strain his eyes trying to hunt out more than a few of the vestiges of the old oran of the spaniards. the french have very nearly wiped them out. it was a great port in the days of the romans, and between that time and the spanish occupation it had a long history. the mohammedans founded a town here a thousand years ago; and, about the time columbus was sailing around the west indian island trying to find a new way to the orient, a spanish author wrote that oran had six thousand houses, a hundred and forty mosques, and schools and colleges equal to those of cordova, granada and seville. it was sometime after this that oran became spanish, and in turn it reverted to the banished moors, to become french in . oran's evolution from spanish to french is interesting. it was once a penal colony of spain, where from seven to ten thousand wicked unfortunates sweltered under an african sun, laying the foundations of the present fortifications. the memory of this spanish occupation is everywhere, but it is a memory only and is continually growing more vague. the soldiers of islam captured costechica from the spaniards, and the french came in turn and took it and called it oran. oran, like the rest of the north african coast cities and towns, is polyglot in its people and its architecture. the orient rubs shoulders with the far west, and the mingling is more astonishing and picturesque than delightful. a red fez, an alpaca coat, and white duck trousers is a bizarre effect, so is a bowler hat and a burnous. joseph's coat of many colours was not more gaudy than that of many a berber or arab one sees to-day in oran. the sultans of other days have given way to an army commandant, who, if he is a more practical person, is usually a less artistic one, and his influence is reflected in all his surroundings. the two religious monuments of oran are celebrated throughout all algeria. the cathedral of st. louis is a stronghold of the christian church and an imposing, if not a very elegant, structure; whilst the grande mosquée, with the most remarkable and quaint octagonal minaret in all algeria, was built by a former _pacha_ of algiers with the money coming from the sale of christian slaves. these two edifices well illustrate two opposing points of view, but they are both religious monuments. if you can stand a mountain climb from oran, go up the slope of mount mourdjadja, and have what a german authority has discovered to be the most impressive view in the world. the distance is but a few kilometres and the means of communication is shanks' mare. majorca and almeria on the coast of spain may, it is said, be seen on a fine day. we have our doubts! the climb is the classic, conventional thing to do, however, if time permits. oran, like algiers, bona, and philippeville, has become europeanized, frenchified. four-fifths of its population is native, but ask a frenchman and he will tell you: "_il n'y a rien d'exotique, c'est paris._" this shows that the frenchman frequents the french part of the town, and knows little of the hidden charm which exists on the fringe. he knows the arab as an inferior menial, or a possible customer for his goods, but he knows nothing of his life, and cares less. the chief reason for coming to oran at all is that it is the most convenient starting-point for tlemcen. tlemcen, lying well over to the moroccan frontier, but linked with oran by railway, is, in its plan and manner of life, the most original city in north africa, the most captivating, and the least spoiled by modern innovations. it was the pomaria of the romans and enjoys to-day the same admirable belt of wooded shade that it did in those far-off days. tlemcen under arab rule was sovereign of all the moghreb, one of the great capitals of the khalifs, the rival of granada, kairouan, damascus, cairo, and bagdad. above its rocky-red substructure the walls and minarets of tlemcen still pierce the azure sky, but no longer do the sultans rule its people. a wild, untamed, savage soldiery has given place to french civil and military rule, and everybody is the more happy therefore. the méchouar, the ancient palace of the sultans, is an abandoned ruin, and the _caserne_ of the spahis and the _chasseurs d'afrique_ now stand for a superior variety of law and order. the architecture of the moors is at its very best at tlemcen, even the fragmentary dilapidated remains in hidden-away corners are often the rival of the gems of the alhambra itself. tlemcen is the most splendid and gracious artists' paradise in algeria. a roving frenchman whom we met at algiers, and who painted better than he versified, wrote the following for us on the back of his card which he gave us as an introduction to the patron of the hotel de france at tlemcen. "il n'est pas une cité qui dispute, sans folie, a tlemcen la jolie la pomme de la beauté et qui gracieuse étale plus de pompe orientale sous un ciel plus enchanté." to-day at tlemcen, more than in any other place in algeria, one sees vestiges of the moorish art and civilization of the days before the conquest, sculpturings in wall and gate, and tiny cupolas and minarets of a period greatly anterior to most others of their class. the fragmentary remains of tlemcen's sixty mosques existing in the sixteenth century spring into view here and there, at each turning, in bewildering fashion. tlemcen is in its decadence however, for from a city of , souls it has dried up to one of , , of which perhaps a tenth part are european. tlemcen has many mosques, of which three must be noted as having been "viewed and remarked," as the antiquarians put it. the grande mosquée is the least grand, but it has a fine tower; the smallest mosque, that of djama l'hassen, is the most beautiful, and the best example of genuine moorish architecture and decoration; the mosque of el haloui is the most daintily ornamented and most charming. the others dwindle down to ruined nothingness. out of fifty-seven other minor mosques, most have been converted into cafés, shops, dwellings and sheep-folds, some are in ruins and some have disappeared entirely, but it is these unexpected fragments of a one-time splendour that makes the charm and value of tlemcen for the artist. the native life of tlemcen is another great feature for the stranger, and a caravan of savage-looking creatures from morocco is no unusual sight on a market day. how the late "disturbances" in morocco are going to affect the interstate traffic remains to be seen. probably the interstate part of it will be wiped out, and france will absorb it all, as she ought to do, whatever england and germany may think. france has made a success in governing mohammedans; the others have not. jews, ethiopians, and arabs all people tlemcen. that is what makes it so interesting to-day, and the types seem to be purer than elsewhere. in the third century tlemcen underwent a formidable siege at the hand of a soudanese and his followers. the assailants were as tenacious as the defenders, and many times were obliged to retreat. it was one of the remarkable sieges of history. the would-be invaders built houses to replace their tents which were no protection against the rude climate they were forced to undergo for a protracted period, as did the spaniards of santa fé under the walls of granada. less fortunate than ferdinand and isabella, the enemies of the khalifas of tlemcen were obliged to retreat, abandoning their fortifications on the height, which the besieged, however, disdained to occupy. it is thus that the fortifications of mansourah have remained unoccupied for six hundred years, an ignoble monument to a campaign that failed. the countryside roundabout is fresh and thickly grown with a subtropical african flora, but the snows of a rigorous winter--which occasionally rest on the hillsides for weeks at a time--give a weird, contrasting effect hard to reconcile with the topographical and architectural features of the landscape. the sight of mansourah under a snowy blanket is one of the surprises which one, who twenty-four hours before left the vine-clad hillsides of médea and the plains of orange groves neighbouring upon blida, will never forget. the legend of the mosque of mansourah is a classic among the arabs who inhabit the mountain city of tlemcen. a negro king of the soudan, who himself as well as his followers were mussulmans, invaded the region beyond the atlas and laid siege to tlemcen. so long and well-sustained was the siege that the invading army sought to build a mosque in their midst. a sort of competition was held, and the winners were a jew and an arab. the soudanese king was at first embarrassed, and then enlightened by a happy idea which church-building committees might well adopt. he commissioned the arab to proceed with the construction of the interior of the mosque, the jew to be responsible for the exterior. a wonderful struggle took place, in which all the arts and ingenuities of the two races were brought to play, and which resulted in one of the most splendid of all arab mosques. the warrior king was highly pleased, and, calling the builders before him, said, frankly, that he had no words to express his satisfaction, nor ideas as to how they might be recompensed. the thing dragged for a time, as payment of architects' bills has ever done; and partisanship so got the influence of the better instincts of the king that, while he gave the faithful mussulman builder many purses filled with gold, he condemned the "dog of an infidel jew" to be imprisoned in the upper gallery of the minaret, for having dared to even penetrate the holy edifice. it never occurred to the dusky monarch that the procedure was defiling the shrine still more. "escape if you can," the jew was told, as he was conducted to his prison. he did escape, after a fashion, so says the legend; for he made himself a pair of wings out of reeds and silks and cords; and, just as the blood-red sun plumped down behind the mountains of the atlas, he launched himself in air. like most flying-machine experimenters before and since, however, the daring innovator came forthwith to grief, falling precipitately at the base of the structure and smashing his skull. he died almost instantly, but before he expired he uttered a final imprecation; the earth trembled, the thunder rolled, and the lightning blasted the minaret, which fell, as it may be seen to-day, lying almost _en bloc_, at full length, on the ground. the same legend has its counterpart, with variations, in other lands, but it is as likely to be true of the mosque of mansourah as of the cathedral of orgis in roumania, or at cologne, in crete or in scandinavia. legend was spread broadcast, even in the dark ages, by a system of "wireless" which has not yet been improved upon. beyond tlemcen the nearest algerian settlement of size to the moroccan frontier is lalla-marnia, twenty-four kilometres only from the centre of the late insurrection at oudjda, now occupied by the french. the name of this advanced post comes from that of a sainted woman buried in a tiny _kouba_ near the military camp. the place was always a strategic point, and formed the military frontier post of a band of syrian invaders, who gave it originally the name of _numerus syrorum_. lalla-marnia and oudjda, one on algerian soil and the other in moroccan territory, separated by twenty-five kilometres of sandy roadway, bear each other a sisterly resemblance. the fêtes of lalla-marnia, with _fantasias_ and horse-races and a savage feasting of the natives, are followed by their counterpart at oudjda a week later. needless to say the fêtes are as yet unspoiled by non-contemporary interpolations. north from lalla-marnia is the little townlet of nédroma, whose clannish inhabitants are one and all descended from the moors of andalusia. the type here is the purest in north [illustration: _arab mosque of beni-ounif_] africa, and the custom which binds them together, presumably as a _totem_ or prevention against marrying with outsiders, is most curious. each head of a family guards preciously the key of the paternal house in spain, the same with which his ancestors locked their doors when they fled at the time of the expulsion of their race from the peninsula. every one of the moors of nédroma expects some day, when the great bell sounds the tocsin of revenge, to return and take up life anew in andalusia. away to the south of tlemcen, or from perrégaux, if one follows the railway, runs the road to far sahara of the sud-oranais. ain-séfra, beni-ounif and figuig are not even names known to the average outsider, albeit they have already achieved a certain prominence among geographers. here the _habitants_, their manner of living, and their architecture take on a complexion quite different from anything known among the tribes of the north. all is blended with a savage crudeness which is alike exotic and picturesque. the moorish mosques of the north give way to a severe arab manner of building which is formidable and massive in outline and grim throughout. mud, baked mud of a dingy red, packed together with straw and propped and bolstered here and there with the trunks of the palm-tree, are the chief characteristics of the saharan arab's place of worship and of his dwelling as well. the contrasting descent from the beauties of the mauresque variety is astonishing. throughout the sud-oranais civilization of the european brand is fast spreading; the railway and the telegraph have reached figuig and beyond, and absinthe--of a particularly forceful brew--can be had in the cafés, also swedish matches (made in belgium) and clay pipes (from holland). not long since all was a desert waste, but the "_légionnaires_," that mixed crew of nation-builders propagated by the french military authorities, went down into the interior and traced roads and built fortifications until this anonymous work came to be succeeded by that of merchants and traders of all creeds. one finds the "_kif_" shops at every little village _en route_, often where he will not even find a "_café maure_." frequently in the towns these dens are relegated to a site without the walls, but they huddle as closely to the centre of affairs as the authorities will allow. architecturally and artistically they are but vile, unlovely holes, lighted usually by a single [illustration: _a kif shop_] _oeil_ hanging from the middle rafters. most likely this _oeil_ is a fifty-cent barn lantern, made after the real connecticut pattern, probably in belgium or germany. the oil that it burns is not even american; the "_standard_" here in the mediterranean is often russian--put up in american tins. however, now that king leopold of belgium has gone into partnership with "_standard_" representatives in the rubber business of the congo, it's only fair to suppose there may be a rockefeller interest in the russian oil trade. these _fumeries de kif_ are to all intents and purposes low-class cafés, peopled with all the nomad riffraff of the mediterranean from mogador to crete. seemingly no one is proprietor, but each shuffles around for himself regardless of any apparent reckoning to come. it is a picturesque setting indeed for a theatre of crime. for furnishings, a straw mat covers a part of the floor, and a few cushions of grimy embroidered, or embossed, leather are backed up against the wall here and there. a great carven coffer, presumably a strong box containing the stock, ends the catalogue, if one excepts the now smoke-dimmed arabesques and horseshoe arched decorations of the walls themselves. in one we saw tied a bald-headed vulture, a dirty fowl, and an itinerant blind musician with a tanned skin, twanging out minor chords on a _gambri_, or arab guitar with two strings, and those not even catgut, but a poor arab substitute therefor. figuig is the end of the railway line into the sud-oranais, and, though it and its grand hotel du sahara are of little interest to the tourist, the surrounding environment is as far removed from civilization as one could hope to get and yet find himself fairly comfortable between the four walls of a hotel of imposing proportions. figuig is the virtual end of encroaching civilization; eight hundred odd kilometres from the coast straight south into the desert. the railway is not intended to stop at figuig; and, by this time, it may have reached colomb-béchar, a hundred kilometres further on, to which point it was projected when these lines were written. fifteen miles an hour is the ordinary speed of this toy railway, and the journey takes from twenty-four to thirty hours of uncomfortable and dusty travelling, which costs, however, only a matter of a hundred francs or so, coming and going. going east from figuig, four hundred [illustration: _laghouat_] kilometres, the only communication being by the caravan trail, is laghouat, another outpost of civilization on the desert's edge. laghouat, like most desert towns, like touggourt, like tozeur, like biskra even, is an oasis. in its markets one may see the traffickings of all the desert types of the sahara, from the m'zab--the auvergnats of algeria--to the wandering nomads of the south,--the tramps of the desert, not omitting the picturesque _ouled-naïls_ and the terrible touaregs, with their still more terrible-looking guns and their heads swathed in black veils. [illustration: _hotel at figuig_] at laghouat and figuig one gets the truest perspective of the life of the desert that one can have short of oued-souf in the sud-constantinois. biskra is in the class of "exploited tourist points," whilst these desert towns are practically inaccessible to all but the hardiest of travellers,--the real genuine travel-lover, not those who are averse to riding in creaky diligences with dusky arabs for companions, or on mule, donkey, or camel back, for all these means of locomotion come into the desert itinerary. chapter xiv the mitidja and the sahel the whole region just west of algiers is very properly accounted the garden of north africa. wheat, the vine, the orange, and all the range of _primeurs_ which go to grace the _tables d'hôte_ at paris are grown here to the profit of all and sundry, native and colonist alike, who possess a garden plot of virgin soil. boufarik, in the midst of the great plain of the mitidja, is a garden city if there ever was one. it is beautifully and geometrically laid out, like philadelphia, though it doesn't resemble the quaker city in the least; it is more lively. the great day at boufarik is the market day, when a great cattle and sheep market is held (every monday week). to-day this great market is a survival of one which has been held for ages. the coming of the french made for the increased prosperity of boufarik, and its former reputation of being a pest-hole has been entirely overridden by a series of civic improvements which not only resulted in cleaning up the town but made it really beautiful as well. [illustration: _market, boufarik_] the monday market at boufarik is one of the things to come out from algiers to see. for once put carriage or automobile behind and travel out by train or diligence, and mingle with the people and see what the real native life of algeria is like, so far as it can be seen, uncontaminated by foreign influence. better yet, go out the night before and sleep at the hotel benoit. it is unlovely enough as an inn, but the dishes served at dinner and breakfast are very good; reminiscent of north africa, but bountiful and excellent. there is nothing offensive or unclean about the hotel, if it is crude; but the colour one gathers on the palette of his memory is very local. from the afternoon of sunday, on all the roads leading into boufarik, from cherchell and the sahel, from miliana, from blida and algiers, throng the thousands that will make up the personnel of to-morrow's market. they come on camel-back, on horses, mules, and donkeys, on foot, by diligence, and by rail, herded in flat unroofed cars like cattle. some are the pure arab type of the sandy dunes and plains of the waste sahara, others berber-kabyles, and others jews, maltese, spaniards, french, italians and--tell it not in gath--germans. the contrast of the types is as great as the contrast between their modes of conveyance, the contrast between the plodding little donkeys and the great, tall, lumpy camels. the comings and goings of the great native market of boufarik are a perpetual migration, and there is nothing the arab likes more than to participate in such an affair. it is his great passion and diversion, and the fact that he stands to gain a little money is not so much an object with him as to kill a little time. from daybreak, the vast quadrangle on the route de blida, outside boufarik's rectangular fortifications, is given over to tents, shops, and booths. here and there is a corral of donkeys or mules, or a pen full of sheep. braying donkeys and bleating sheep are everywhere. the great avenues of plane-trees form a grove, and wherever they cross some more powerful or wily trader has squatted on the ground, to the discomfort of his less fortunate competitor, who, perforce, has to content himself with the shady side of a camel. leading up to this unique market-place is a splendid avenue of orange-trees. a superb disorder of trumpery brummagem cutlery, stuffs, firearms and pots and pans clutter the ground in every direction. water-sellers and milk-sellers are threading everywhere, each loaded down with his _peau de bouc_, and fruit and bread sellers with their wicker baskets. saddlery, horseshoes, ropes of hemp, jute, and camel hair all mingle in a picturesque chaos. there are even hand sewing-machines, of the little doll-house variety that the native populations of india, japan, patagonia affect as their sole intercourse with modernity. a few women mingle among the groups, but mostly the crowd is made up of men. rarely are these market women beautiful except in a savage way. they possess most of the male characteristics of manner, and but few of the wiles and little of the coquettishness of woman. their visages are tanned to copper colour and sowed with ridges and folds. many indeed are out and out negresses. here beside a stall sits a soudan negress of fat, flabby visage and large round eyes, as amiable as some greasy animal in captivity--and about as intelligent. she is only a watcher or caretaker; the real owner of the stall, with its melons, its skins, and its baskets, is over yonder in a moorish café playing dominoes. from her head and shoulders hang great chains of silver, and in the lobes of her ears are pendants which may be gold or not. she is a barbaric savage, splendid in her savagery and indifferent, apparently, to everything and everybody. but she is part of the setting nevertheless, and she is good to see. the coast plain west of algiers, the sahel properly called, is in strong contrast with the cultivated plain of the mitidja. the whole journey from algiers out to cherchell and back, via miliana, blida, and boufarik, gives one as good an idea of the ancient and modern civilization of north africa as one could possibly have. blida sits calmly in its fertile plain at the foot of the imposing hills which, grouped together, form the mountains of the beni-salah. all round about are orange groves and olive-trees of the very first splendour and production. the _bois sacré_, blida's chief sight, is as picturesque and romantic a woodland as the sentiment of a poet or an artist ever conjured up. blida dates from the sixteenth century, when a number of andalusian families settled here because of the suitability of the region for the cultivation of the orange,--and the commerce has been growing ever since. in the olden times blida was known as ouarda, _the little rose_; but afterwards when the turks and corsairs held their orgy there, it came to be called khaaba, _the prostitute_. since that day it has got back its good name and is one of the liveliest, daintiest, and altogether attractive small cities of algeria. the native and the french alike know it is _la voluptueuse_ or _la parfumée_. within blida's _bois sacré_ is the venerated marabout of sidi-yacoub-ech-chérif, one of the [illustration: _tomb of sidi-yacoub_] celebrated _kouba_ shrines of islam. no reproduction of it can do its cool, leafy surroundings justice. it is the very ideal of a holy man's retreat and one of the most appealing of shrines to those possessed of the artist's eye. fragonard or corot might have spent a lifetime painting the forest interiors of the unspoiled wild-wood of blida's _bois sacré_. the writer is not sure that the author of "mignon" ever saw or heard of blida, but his verses were most apropos: "connais-tu le pays où fleurit l'oranger, le pays des fruits d'or et des roses vermeilles? * * * * * où rayonne et sourit comme un bienfait de dieu, un éternel printemps sous un ciel toujours bleu. * * * * * c'est là que je voudrais vivre, aimer et mourir.... c'est là!..." in connection with blida it is worthy of record that the celebrated and venerable _bach-agha_ sid ben gannah, of biskra, grand-chef of the sud-constantinois, recently underwent a "cure" at the military hospital at blida. his malady had become a chronic one, and his complete restoration to health through the aid of the capable doctors of the hospital and the mild soft air of blida has done more than anything else to allay the fanatical superstition of the native against the efficacy of the proper professional treatment of the sick. the "cure" experienced by their favourite _bach-agha_, the friend of the king of england and bearer of a hundred personal decorations, the "grand old man" of the country, has been heralded wide amongst the natives, from constantine to beni-souf, and ouardja to el oued, and has struck the death-knell of the voodooism of the _indigène_ "_toubibs_" and quacks. for many years yet, it is to be hoped, the native may continue to demand the benedictions of mohammed for their respected chief: "_ou sela allah ala on moulano on ala hebel daro ou ala sahabou ou salem!_" a peculiarity of the mauresques of blida is that they veil themselves in a most strange manner. instead of covering their faces, leaving only two glittering black eyes peeping out, they cover all but one eye. a woman who veils after that manner looks suspicious. beware! at the mediterranean extremity of the great plain in which lies blida--a veritable garden of eden, with oranges, figs, grapes, pomegranates and even the apples of eve--is the little hill-town of kolea. kolea is extraordinary from every point of [illustration: _a mauresque of blida_] view. kolea is a military town; the zouaves are everywhere, and in their train have come a following of greeks, turks, and maltese. but the little garden-town with its _jardin des zouaves_, its two mosques, its turreted fountain and its modern renaissance mairie is attractive throughout, albeit it is not the least oriental. the hôtel de france, partly moorish (the good part), and partly french (the ugly part), is one of those french inns that are indescribably excellent. there is a sure-to-be gabrielle who presides at the cook stove and another who serves at table and orders up the _vin rosé_ from the cellar when the red or the white wine is too strong ( degrees) for one's taste. they are wonderfully good, those wines of the sahel. it is a remarkably brilliant strip of coast-line extending west from algiers, and it should be covered in its entirety as far as cherchell if one would realize the varied beauties and attractions of the algerian littoral. from saint-eugène and point pescade, suburbs of algiers, a fine road extends all the way to cherchell, a matter of nearly a hundred kilometres, the turquoise mediterranean always to the right. at sidi-ferruch the french troops first landed when on their conquest of algeria. at staouëli-la-trappe is an abbey where there are a hundred and fifty lay brothers who grow oranges and fine fruits, and while their dull lives away comfortably under the brilliant skies of africa. going still further along the coast, we come to castiglione, sheltering itself behind a sand-dune, from whence it is but a few kilometres to the "tombeau de la chrétienne," as imposing and extraordinary a monument as any of the pyramids of ghizeh. architecturally, if not beautiful, it is imposing, and mysterious, in that it is constructed on a most original plan. it is a great mound of superimposed cut stone, entered by a pillared portico, now somewhat ruined. this funeral monument has an appeal for the archæologist and the merely curious alike far beyond many a more conventional monument of its class. the gigantic monument is still supposed to contain many and wonderful treasures, unless they were removed and lost in the forgotten past, for as yet none have been brought to light. tradition has the following tale to tell of this monumental sepulchre. one day a christian woman, fleeing from a rabble of unholy men and women, took refuge in this commemorative shrine, built by some holy person whose name is forgotten. her pursuers, coming upon her in her retreat, would have fallen upon her and done her injury, even as she was at her prayers, when suddenly a myriad of flies, mosquitoes, and wasps put the invaders to flight. the frightened woman lived a hermit's life here in her stronghold, and at the end of her span came to die within the impenetrable walls. ever afterward the cone-like mound was known as the tombeau de la chrétienne. the arabs call this bizarre tomb kaber-roumia. in it was explored by a band of archæologists, who decided that it was the tomb of the kings of mauretania, built by jubal ii in the reign of the great augustus. the reader may take his choice of the reasons for the existence of this remarkable monument. one is about as well authenticated as the other. it existed already in , for the records tell that a _pacha_ of algiers, salah raïs, tried, but without success, to destroy the edifice by firing stone cannon-balls at the mass. nothing happened; the monument was not despoiled of its outlines even. this fact speaks badly either for the old turkish ammunition or for the skill of the gunners who fired it. tipaza, the _chef lieu_ of a _commune_ with a population of between two or three thousand, is a little coast town and comes next on the itinerary from algiers to cherchell. at tipaza are still more roman ruins, covering an area over two thousand metres square. tipaza was one of the cities of mauretania where the christian religion was practised with the utmost fervour. the patron saint of the place was one salsa, a young girl, who, according to tradition, was put to death at the beginning of the fourth century for having destroyed a pagan idol. such was religious partisanship of the time. a century later the vandal king hunéric, in order to subdue christianity, caused all those professing it to have their right hands cut off and their tongues cut out. this was the extreme of cruelty and its effect on christendom is historic. the roman monuments still existing at tipaza include a theatre, which is in a poor state of preservation. this has been restored in recent years to the extent that commemorative dramatic performances have been held here in the open air, as at carthage, and at orange in provence. the outlines of a great basilica of nine naves, where sainte salsa was buried, are still well preserved, and there are also something more than fragments of the baths and water-works, which supplied the drinking water for the surrounding country. from tipaza to cherchell is thirty kilometres by road, which is the only means of reaching the latter place unless one goes from algiers by steamer along the coast, a voyage not to be recommended for various reasons. cherchell possesses the best-preserved outlines of an historic occupation of the past of any of the old roman settlements of the "département d'alger." first as the phoenician colony of iol, and later, under jubal ii, as cesarea, the capital of mauretania. cherchell came under the sway of the roman empire in the year of the christian era. the province of mauretania extended from the moulouia to the setif of the present day. in the middle ages cesarea lay dormant for three centuries; but before this, and again afterwards, its activities were such that the part it played in the history and development of the country was most momentous. as late as the early years of the past century, the city and port was the refuge of a band of pirates which pillaged throughout all the western waters of the mediterranean. the ancient port of cherchell was the scene of the comings and goings of a vast commerce in phoenician and roman times; and the present state of the preservation of the moles and jetties of this old harbour of refuge stamps cherchell as worthy of comparison with carthage. the roman ruins at cherchell are stupendous, though fragmentary, and not overnumerous. in the inefficiently installed "musée" are many of the finest gems of antique sculptures and statuary yet found in africa. there is a catalogue of these numerous discoveries, compiled by m. wierzejski, which can be had at the book-shops of algiers, and which will prove invaluable to those interested in the subject in detail. the chief roman monuments remaining in place above ground are the western baths and the central baths: the cisterns, the amphitheatre,--where was martyred sainte marciane,--the circus, and the extensive ramparts sweeping around to the south of the town from one part of the coast-line to another. cherchell has a population of nine thousand souls to-day, of which perhaps a third are europeans. in roman times it must have had a vast population judging from the area within the ramparts. the ancient grande mosquée of the arab occupation is now a military hospital. this has had added to it numerous beautifully proportioned columns, with elaborately carved capitals, taken from the ruins of the central baths. south from cherchell, back from the coast towards the mountains of the "petit atlas," fifty kilometres or more by a not very direct road, and connected by a service of public diligences, is miliana. one will not repent a "stop-over" at this unspoiled little african city. the country reminds one of what the french would call a "_petite suisse africaine_." the valleys and plains have a remarkable freshness of atmosphere that one does not associate with a semi-tropical sun. miliana itself sits high on the flank of the zaccar-gharbi, and is the lineal descendant of the zucchabar of the romans. actually, it was founded in the tenth century. at the time of the french occupation of algeria abd-el-kader here installed ali-ben-embarek (who afterwards became the agha of the mitidja under the french). but with the occupation of médea, in , the stronghold fell and the arab power was broken for ever in these parts. miliana is a walled town to-day, as it was in the days of the romans and berbers. on the north is the porte du zaccar, and on the south the porte du chélif. this snug little hill-town, with only a quarter part of its population european, not counting half as many more israelites, has a character which places it at once in a class by itself. it has an attractive little commercial hotel, where one eats and drinks the best of the countryside and pays comparatively little for it. a wide terrace, or esplanade, runs around one side of the town overlooking the walls, and a wide-spread panorama stretches away on the east and west and north and south into infinity, with the imposing mass of the ouarsenis, called "_l'oeil du monde_," as the dominant landscape feature. the terrace is called locally the "_coin des blagueurs_." why, no one pretends to answer, except that all the world foregathers here to stroll and gossip as they do on the "_cours_" of a provençal town. miliana's mosque is a simple but elegant structure, graceful but not ornate, imposing but not majestic. it is dedicated to sidi-ahmed-ben-youssef, a venerated marabout who lived all his life hereabouts. he had as bitter and satirical a tongue as dean swift when speaking of the men and manners of those about him. turning eastward again from miliana towards algiers, one passes the entrance to the gorges de chiffa, the road to médea, and finally blida, the centre of the little yellow, thin-skinned orange traffic. from blida a classic excursion is to be made to the gorges de chiffa, where, at the ruisseau des singes, formerly lived a colony of hundreds, perhaps thousands of monkeys in their wild native state. nowadays the only monkeys one sees are on the frieze in the _salle-à-manger_ of a most excellently appointed little wayside hotel. [illustration: at the ruisseau des singes b. mcm ' ] hamman-r'hira, on the road between miliana and blida, is an incipient watering-place, where one can get tea and american drinks, and play croquet. its mineral springs--much like those of contrexeville in france--have been famous for centuries, and the old moorish baths are still used by the moors and arabs round about. for the europeans who, throughout the spring and winter season, throng to the great hotel, now managed by a limited company, there are other baths more luxuriously installed. hamman-r'hira is an attractive enough place of itself, and would be more so were it not filled with rheumatics and anæmics. the frequenters of the moorish baths are more interesting than the european clientèle for the investigator of men and manners. [illustration: algiers & its environs] chapter xv the great white city--algiers the first view of algiers from the ship, as one enters the port, is a dream of fairyland, "_alger la blanche!_" "_el djesair la molle!_" if it is in the morning, all is white and dazzling; if in the evening, a rosy violet haze is over all, with the background of the "petit atlas" and the djurjura shutting off the littoral from the wide sahara to the south. at twilight a thousand twinkling lights break out, from the kasba on the height, from mustapha, from the terrace boulevard which flanks the port and from the ships in the harbour. a stronger ray flashes from the headland lighthouse at cap matifou, and still others from war-ships in the great open gulf. algiers is truly fairy-like from any point of view. the algiers of to-day is a great and populous city. it is the icosium of the romans doubled, tripled, and quadrupled. three towns in juxtaposition stretch from saint-eugène on the west to mustapha on the east, while algiers proper has for its heart the "place du gouvernement" and the "grande mosquée." the place du gouvernement is a vast square, a sort of modern forum, flanked on one side by the mosque of djema-el-djedid, the grande mosquée, and on the others by shops, cafés, and hotels. from it stretch the four great thoroughfares of the city, bab-el-oued, la marine, la kasba, and bab-azoum. all the animation and the tumult of the city centres here, and the passing throng of arabs, soldiers, jews, mauresques, and the french and foreign elements, forms an ethnological exhibit as varied as it is unusual. algiers has a special atmosphere all its own. it lacks those little graces which we identify as thoroughly french, in spite of the fact that the city itself has become so largely frenchified; and it lacks to a very great extent--from almost every view-point--that oriental flavour which one finds at cairo and tunis. but for all that, algiers is the most wonderful exotic and conventional blend of things arab and european on top of earth. the environs of algiers are rugged and full of character, opening out here and there into charming distant vistas, and wide panoramas of land and sea and sky. all is large, immense, and yet as finely focussed as a miniature. one must not, however, attempt to take in too great an angle at a single glance, else the effect will be blurred, or perhaps lost entirely. the impulsive ones, who like the romance of touraine and the daintiness of valley of the indre and the cher, will find little to their liking around algiers. all is of a ruggedness, if not a savageness, that the more highly developed civilization of the "midi" has quite wiped out. here the ragged eucalyptus takes the place of the poplar, and the _platane_ is more common than the aspen or the birch. the palm-trees are everywhere, but just here they are of the cultivated or transplanted variety and generally of the feather-duster species, decorative and pleasing to look upon, but givers neither of dates nor of shade. algiers and its life, and that of its immediate environs, whether the imported gaieties of mustapha or the native fêtes of bouzarea, and the periodical functions for ever taking place in the city itself, give about as lively an exposition of cosmopolitanism as one may observe anywhere. the historical monuments of algiers are not as many as might at first be supposed, for most of its memories of historic times deals with places rather than things; and, indeed, this is true of the whole surrounding country, from tizi-ouzou in kabylie to cherchell and tipaza in the sahel, to the west. the chief of algiers' architectural charms--aside from that varied collection of crazy walls and crooked streets which make up the arab town--are the archbishop's palace,--a fine old arab house of a former dey of algiers; the peñon and the amirauté, or what is left of it, on the mole below the palais consulaire; its three principal mosques; the cathedral,--the mosque of other days transformed; the palais d'eté of the governor-general, in part dating from the seventeenth century, and the kasba fortress, high up above the new and old town. these are all guide-books sights, and the only comments herewith are a few hazarded personal opinions. high above, up through the streets of stairs, scarce the width of two people side by side, and still up by whitewashed walls, great iron-studded doors and grilled windows, sits the kasba, the great fortress defence of algiers since the days when turkish rule gave it the most unenviable reputation in all the world. there is a continual passing and repassing of all algiers' population, apparently, from the lower town to the height above, europeans, arabs, moors and jews. the scene is ever changing and kaleidoscopic. a white wraith toddles along before one, and, as you draw near, resolves into a swaddled mauresque who, half afraid, giggles at you through the opening of her veil and suddenly disappears through some dim-lighted doorway, her place only to be taken by another form as shapeless and mysterious. this is the arab town day or night; and but for the steep slope one might readily lose himself in the maze of streets and alleys. as it is all one has to do is to keep moving, not minding the gigglings and gibings of the natives. one enters the _ville arabe_ by any one of a hundred streets or alleys. at its outmost height you are at the kasba; when you reach the bottom you are in the european town. to the right or left you reach a sort of encircling boulevard which in turn brings you to the same objectives. it is not so difficult as it looks, and one need fear nothing, night or day, until he reaches the european town and civilization, where thievery and murderings are nightly occurrences. here in the old arab town one is in another world; here are the _maisons à terrasse_, the mosques, the narrow _ruelles_ with their overhung porches and only occasional glimpses of the starry sky overhead. verily it is as if one had left the electric-lighted "place," the _cafés chantants_, the tramway, and the shipping behind in another world, though in reality a hundred steps, practically, in any direction will bring them all within sight and sound and smell again. after all, the quaint streets of the hillside town are algiers' chief sights, after the magnificent panorama of the bay and that wonderful first view as seen from the ship as one enters the port. algiers' native quarter has been somewhat spoiled by the cutting through of new streets, and the demolishing and refurbishing of old buildings; but, nevertheless, there are little corners and stretches here and there where the daily life of the native men and women goes on to-day as it did when they lived under turkish rule. here are the shopkeepers of all ranks: a butcher dozing behind his _moucharabia_, looking like the portraits of abd-el-kader; a date-seller, the image of the khedive of egypt; a baker with a jewish cast of figure; and next door a _café-maure_ with all the leisure population of the neighbourhood stretched out on the _nattes_ and benches, [illustration: _a cemetery gate_] smoking and talking and drinking. it is not fairyland, nor anything like it; it is not even oriental; but it is strange to anglo-saxon, or even european, eyes that such things should be when we ourselves are wallowing in an over-abundance of labour-saving, comfort-giving luxuries which the arab has never dreamed of. we chase our flies away with an electric fan, whilst he idly waves a _chasse-mouches_ of antique pattern, and does the thing quite as effectively, and with very little more effort. they are very grave, magnificently tranquil, these turbaned turks and jews and arabs, sitting majestic and silent before some café door, clad in all the rainbow colours of civilization and savagery. their peace of mind is something we might all acquire with advantage, instead of strenuously "going the pace" and trying to keep up with, or a little ahead of, the next. in spite of its strangeness, algiers is not at all oriental. the arabs of algiers themselves lack almost totally the aspect of orientalism. the turk and jew have made the north african arab what he is, and his orientalism is simply the orientalism of the east blended and browned with the subtropical rays of the african sun. it is undeniably picturesque and exotic, but it is not the pure eastern or byzantine variety which we at first think it. to realize this to the full, one has only to make the comparison between algiers and cairo and tunis. it is the cosmopolitan blend of the new and the old, of the savage with the civilized, that makes cosmopolitan algiers what it is. this mixture of many foreign elements of men and manners is greatly to be remarked, and nowhere more than in algiers' cafés, where french, english, americans, and arabs meet in equality over their _café-cognac_, though the arab omits the cognac. the cosmopolitanism of marseilles is lively and varied, that of port saïd ragged and picturesque, but that of algiers is brilliantly complicated. algiers is the best kept, most highly improved, and, by far, the most progressive city on the shores of the great mediterranean lake, and this in spite of its contrast of the old and new civilizations. san francisco could take a lesson from algiers in many things civic, and the street-cleaners of london and paris are notably behind their brothers of this african metropolis. the _marchand de cacaoettes_ is the king of algiers' place du gouvernement; or, if he isn't, the bootblack with his "_cire, m'ssieu!_" holds the title. anyway, the peanut-seller is the aristocrat. he sits in the sun with a white or green umbrella over his head, and is content if he sells fifty centimes worth of peanuts a day. his possible purchasers are many, but his clients are few, and at a sou for a fair-sized bag full, he doesn't gather a fortune very quickly. still he is content, and that's the main thing. the bootblack is more difficult to satisfy. he will want to give your shoes a "_glace de paris_," even if another of his compatriots has just given them a first coating of the same thing. the bootblacks of algiers are obstinate, importunate, and exasperating. from a document of one learns that algiers had a population of , in , a half a century later , , and in , . then came the decadence; and, at the coming of the french in , algiers was but a city of , , moors, turks, jews, negroes, and arabs all counted. they were divided as follows: mussulmans , negroes , jews , floating population , ------ , by a european population had crowded in which brought the figures up to , and gave algiers a rank of fifth among french cities. algiers' busy port is picturesque and lively in every aspect, with the hourly comings and goings of great steamships from all the length and breadth of the mediterranean, and from the seven seas as well. over all is the great boundless blue of a subtropical, cloudless sky; beneath the restless lapping of the waves of the still bluer mediterranean; and everywhere the indescribable odour of _bitume_, of sea salt, and of oranges. the background is the dazzling walls of the arcaded terraces of the town, and the still higher turrets and towers of a modern and ancient civilization. still farther away are the rolling, olive-clad hills and mountains of the sahel. sunrise or sunset on algiers' port are alike beautiful; one should miss neither. the best-remembered historical and romantic figures of algiers are pedro navarro, who built the peñon; the brothers barberousse, corsairs from the dardanelles, whom the algerians called in to help them fight their battles against christianity; and cervantes, the author of "don quixote," who was imprisoned here, and who left an imperishable account of the city of his captivity, ever useful to later historians. charles v and louis xiv both had a go at algiers, but it fell not to their attack; and it was only with later times, incident upon an insult offered the french ambassador by hussein dey, the turkish ruler of the el-djezair of the ancients, that algiers first capitulated to outside attack. old algiers was not impregnable, perhaps, but such weapons of warfare as were used against the turks were inefficient against its thick walls, its outposts, and its fortified gates. the historic peñon underwent many a mediæval siege, but was finally captured from its spanish defender, de vegas, and his little band of twenty-five survivors, who were summarily put to death. khair ed din pulled down, in part, the fortifications and joined the remainder by a jetty to the mainland, the same break-water which to-day shelters the port on the north. a fragment of one of the original signal towers was built up into the present lighthouse, and a system of defences, the most formidable on the north african coast, was begun. the fortifications of algiers were barriers which separated the growing civilization of europe from the barbarian nether world, and they fell only with the coming of the french in the second quarter of the nineteenth century. such is the story of the entering wedge of progressive civilization in algeria. algiers' veiled women are one of the city's chief and most curious sights for the stranger within her walls. on friday, the _jour des morts_ of the arab women, they go to the cemetery to weep or to make gay, according as the mood is on. for the recluse arab women it is more apt to be a fête-day than a day of sorrow. they dress in their finest, their newest, and their cleanest, and load themselves down with jangling jewelry to the limit of their possessions. by twos and threes, seldom alone, they go to make their devotions at the _kouba_ of didi-mohammed abd-er-rahman bou kobrin. poor prisoner women; six days a week they do not put foot outside their doors; and on the seventh they take a day's outing _in the cemetery_. "_pas gai!_" says the frenchwoman, and no wonder. when the sun commences to lower, they quit the cemetery of bou-kobrin and file in couples and trios and quartettes back to their homes in the narrow shut-in streets which huddle about the grim walls of the hilltop kasba. they toddle and crawl and almost creep, as if they feared entering their homes again; they have none of that proud, elastic, jaunty step of the kabyle women or of the bedouins of the "great tents;" they are only poor unfortunate "arab women of the walls." one after another these white-veiled pyramids of femininity disappear, burrowing down through some low-hung doorway, until finally their weekly outing is at an end and they are all encloistered until another seventh day rolls around. that these mauresque women of algiers are beautiful there is no doubt, but their beauty is of the qualified kind. the chief attribute to the beauty of the mauresque woman is _kohl_ or _kohol_ or _koheul_, a marvellous preparation of sulphur, of antimony of copper and of alum--and perhaps other things too numerous to mention, all of which is made into a paste and dotted about all over the face as beauty-spots. sometimes, too, they kalsomine the face with an enamel, like that on a mediæval vase. those of the social whirl elsewhere use a similar concoction under another name which is sold by high-class chemists and perfumers, but they don't let you know what it is made of, or at any rate, don't take you into their confidence--neither the chemists nor the women. when a mauresque dyes herself to the eyes with _kohl_, and dips her finger-tips in henna until they are juicy red, then she thinks she is about as ravishing as she can be in the eyes of god, her lover, and herself. she has to do this, she thinks, to keep her favour with him, because others might perchance put it on a little thicker and so displace her charms, and his affection. it is a belief among mussulman women that mahomet prescribed the usage of _kohl_, but this idea is probably born of the desire. certainly no inspiration of god, nor the words of his prophet, ever suggested such a thing. chapter xvi algiers and beyond to get into the interior back of algiers, you make your start from maison carrée. here one gets his first glimpse of the real countryside of algeria. these visions of the arab life of olden times are quite the most interesting features of the country. civilization has crept in and rubbed shoulders very hard here and there; but still the arab trader, workman, and shopkeeper conducts his affairs much as he did before he carried a dollar watch and lighted his cigarettes with safety matches. the kaleidoscopic life of the market at maison carrée is one of the sights of suburban algiers. here on a vast, dusty down, packed everywhere with donkeys, mules and blooded arabians, and there in a great enclosure containing three or five thousand sheep, is carried on as lively a bit of trading as one will observe anywhere outside a norman horse-fair or a land sale on some newly opened reservation in the far west. horses, donkeys, mules, and sheep cry out in all the varied accents of their groans and bleatings, the sheep and their lambs, lying with their four feet tied together, complaining the loudest. hundreds of arabs, kabyles, turks, jews, and europeans bustle and rustle about in picturesque disorder, doing nothing apparently, but vociferating and grimacing. all sorts of footwear and head-gear are here, turbans, fezes, _haiks_, sandals, sabots, and _espadrilles_. gay broidered vestments and dirty rent burnouses jostle each other at every step. mutton is up or down to-day, a sheep may sell for eight francs or it may sell for twenty, and the buyer or seller is glad or sorry, he laughs, or he weeps,--but he smokes and drinks coffee at all times nevertheless. in a snug corner are corralled some arab steers and cows, a rare sight even in the markets of algiers. one eats mutton all the time and everywhere, but seldom beef. the butchers of algiers corner it for the _milords_ and millionaires of the mustapha hotel, who demand "underdone" beefsteaks and "blood-running" roasts of beef for breakfast, dinner, and supper. an arabian horse, so-called, but not a blooded beast, sells here for from eighty to two hundred francs. high-priced stock is rare here, hence there is little horse-trading of the swindling variety, and no horse thieving. the arab _maquignons_, dressed in half european and half desert fashion, bowler hats and a burnous, sandals and bright blue socks with red clocks on them, are, however, more insistent, if possible, than their brothers of brittany. "you want to buy a horse, _un chiv'l_?" says a greasy-looking blackamoor. "_moi, z'en connaiz-un, francs, mais z'i peux ti l'avoir pour ._" you don't want to buy a horse, of course, but you ask its age. "_moi, s'i te sure, neuf ou dix ans peut-être--douze ans, mais ze, ze le connais, il trotte comme la gazelle._" it's all very vague, including the french, and you get away as soon as you can, glad at any rate that you have lost neither time nor money. all the trading of the arab market is, as the french say, pushed to the limit. merchandizing describes the process, and describes it well. a hundred sous, a _pièce_ only, refused or offered, will make or break a bargain almost on the eve of being concluded. an arab trader in--well, everything--has just sold half a ton of coal to a farmer living a dozen kilometres out in the country. the farmer bought it "delivered," and the arab coal merchant of the moment bargains with a camel sheik for fifty sous to deliver the sooty charge by means of three camels. three camels, twenty-four kilometres (a day's journey out and back), and a driver costs fifty sous, two francs and a half, a half a dollar. it's a better bargain than you could make, and you marvel at it. a troop of little donkeys comes trotting up the hillside to the market, loaded with grain, dates, peanuts, and some skinny fowls and ducks. they have "dog-trotted" in from rovigo, thirty kilometres distant, and they will trot back again as lively after breakfast, their owner beating them over the flanks all the way. poor, patient, clever little beasts, docile, but not willing! yes, not willing; a donkey is never willing, whatever land he may live in. booths and tents line the sides of the great square, filled with the gimcrack novelties of england, france, germany, and america,--and the more exotic folderols of algeria, tunisia, and morocco. jews sell calico, and turks and greeks sell fraudulent gold and silver jewelry and coral beads made of glass melted in a crucible. merchandise of all sorts and of all values is spread on the bare ground. a pair of boxing gloves, an automobile horn, a sword with a broken blade, and all kinds of trumpery rubbish cast off from another world are here; and before night somebody will be found to buy even the boxing-gloves. europeans, too, are stall-holders in this great rag-fair. spaniards and maltese are in the greatest proportions, and the only frenchmen one sees are the strolling gendarmes poking about everywhere. noon comes, and everybody with a soul above trade repairs to a restaurant of the middle class near by, a great marble hall fitted with marble top tables. here every one lunches with a great deal of gesticulation and clamour. it is very primitive, this algerian quick-lunch, but it is cleanly and the food is good. for twenty-five sous you may have a _bouillabaisse_, a dish of _petits pois_, two _oeufs à la coque_, goat's-milk cheese, some biscuits and fruit for dessert, a half-bottle of wine and _café et kirsch_. not so bad, is it? "the better one knows algeria," says the brigadier of gendarmes, or the lieutenant in some army bivouac, "the less one knows the arab." the point of view is traditional. the serenity and taciturn manner of the arab is only to be likened to that of the celestial wong hop or ah sin. what the arab thinks about, and what he is likely to do next no one knows, or can even conjecture with any degree of certainty. all one can do is to jump at conclusions and see what happens--to himself or the arab. when the duc d'aumale conquered biskra, the arabs promptly retook it, practically, if not officially, and gave themselves up to such abandoned orgies that not even the military authorities could make them tractable. the authorities at paris were at their wits' ends how to win the hearts of the arabs, and conquer them morally as well as physically. louis-philippe made a shrewd guess and sent robert houdin, the prestidigitateur, down into the desert. from that time on the arab of algeria has been the tractable servant of the french. straight south from maison carrée, across the mitidja, eighteen kilometres more or less, lies arba, the beginning of the real open country. a steam-tram goes on ten kilometres farther, to rovigo. at arba, however, the "route nationale" to the desert's edge branches off via aumale to bou-saada and beyond, where the real desert opens out into the infinite mirage. the nearest the camel caravans of the desert ever get to algiers is at this little market town of arba. here on a market day (wednesday) may be seen a few stray, mangy specimens of the type loaded with grapes, figs, or dates, though usually the _bourriquet_, or donkey, is the beast of burden. the arab never carries his burdens himself, as do other peasants. it is beneath his dignity; for no matter how ragged or rusty he is, his burnous is sacred from all wear and tear possible to be avoided. except for its great market back of its modern ugly mosque, there is not much to see in arba. here is even a more heterogeneous native riffraff than one sees at maison carrée, blida, or boufarik. and indeed it is all "native," for the turks and jews of the coast towns are absent. the trading is all done in produce. and if the native merchant, in his little shop or stall where he sells foreign-made clothes and gimcracks, cannot sell for cash, he is willing to barter for a sack of grain or a few sheep or some goat skins. the jew trader will not bother with this kind of traffic. he wants to deal for cash, either as buyer or seller, he doesn't care which. here a native shoemaker, or rather maker of _babouches_, sits beneath a rude shelter and fashions fat, tubby slippers out of dingy skins and sole leather with the fur left on. on another side is a sweetmeat seller, a baker of honey cakes, and a vegetable dealer, and even a butcher, who tries to lead his mussulman brother astray and get him to become a carnivorous animal like us christians. he doesn't succeed very well, because the arab eats very little meat. in a tent, beneath a great palm, sits the physician and dentist of the tribe, with all his paraphernalia of philters and potions and tooth-pulling appliances. like the rest of us, the arab suffers from toothache sometimes; and he wastes no time but goes and "has it out" at the first opportunity. the procedure of the arab tooth-puller is no more barbaric than our own, and the possessor of the refractory molar has an equally hard time. all these things and more one sees at arba's weekly market. it is all very strange and amusing. aumale is nearly a hundred kilometres beyond arba, with nothing between except occasional settlements of a few score of europeans and a few hundreds of arabs. communication with algiers from aumale is by a crazy, rocking seven-horse diligence which covers the ground, by night as often as by day, in nine or ten hours, at a gait of six or seven miles an hour, and at a cost of as many francs. aumale is nothing but the administrative centre of a _commune_ blessed with two good enough inns and a long, straight main street running from end to end. as the auzia of the romans, it was formerly occupied by a strong garrison. the turks in turn built a fortress on the same site, and the french occupied it as a military post in , giving it a second baptism in the name of the duc d'aumale, the son of louis-philippe. from aumale on to bou-saada is another hundred and twenty-four kilometres over a new-made "route nationale." it is a good enough road for a diligence, which makes the journey in sixteen or eighteen hours, including stops. there is no accommodation _en route_ save that furnished by the government _bordjs_, the _caravanserai_ and the _café-maures_. here, at last, one is launched into the desert itself. the journey is one of strange, impressive novelty, though nothing very venturesome. in case of a prolonged breakdown, there is nothing to do but to drink the water of the _redir_ (a sort of a natural pool reservoir hollowed out of the rock), and be thankful indeed if your curled-up arab travelling companion will share his crust with you. to him white bread, if only soaked in water, is a great luxury; to you it will seem pretty slim; but then we are overfed as a rule and an arab dietary for a time will probably prove beneficial. the life of the nomad arab is a very full one, but it is not a very active nor luxurious one. through wonderful ocean-like mirages and clouds of dust whirled up by the sirocco, a veritable "_tourbillon de poussière_," as madame de sévigné would have called it, we rolled off the last kilometres of our tiresome journey, just as the last rays of the blood-red sun were paling before the coming night. we arrived at bou-saada's hotel bailly just as the last remnants of the _table d'hôte_ were being cleared away, which, in this little border town, half civilized and half savage, means thrown into the streets to furnish food for chickens. how the inhabitant of the algerian small town ever separates his own fowls from those of his neighbours is a great question, since they all run loose in the common feeding-ground of the open street. bou-saada is even of less importance than aumale to the average person. but for the artist it is a paradise. it is not tlemcen, it has no grand mosques; it is not tunis, it has no great _souks_ and bazaars; but it is quaintly native in every crooked street huddled around the military post and the hotels. the life of [illustration] the leather and silver workers, and of the butcher, the baker and the seller of blankets and foodstuffs is, as yet, unspoiled and uncontaminated with anything more worldly than oil-lamps. the conducted tourist has not yet reached bou-saada, and consequently the native life of the place is all the more real. here is an account of a café acquaintance made at bou-saada. zorah-ben-mohammed was a pretty girl, according to the standards of her people, with a laugh like an _houri_. she confessed to eighteen years, and it is probable that she owned no more. the rice powder and the _maquillage_ were thick on her cheek, whilst the rest of her face was frankly ochre. for all that she was a pretty girl and came perilously near convincing us of it, though hers was a beauty far removed from our own preconceived standards. great black eyes and a massive _coiffe_ of raven-black hair topped off her charms. below she was clad in a corsage of gold-embroidered velvet and an ample silk _pantalon_ that might indeed have been a skirt, so large and thick were its folds. bijoux she had galore. they may have been of gold and silver and precious stones, or they may not; but they were precious to her and added not a little to her graces. bracelets bound her wrists and her ankles, and her finger-tips were dyed red with henna. zora or zorah fatma, or in arab, fetouma, are the girlish names which most please their bearer, and our friend zorah was a queen in her class. zorah served the coffee in the little moorish café in bou-saada's market-place, into which we had tumbled to escape a sudden sandstorm blown in from the desert. her powers of conversation were not great; she did not know many french words and we still fewer arab ones, so our respective vocabularies were soon exhausted. we admired her and made remarks upon her,--which was what she wanted, and, though the charge for the coffee was only two sous a cup, she was artful enough to worm a _pourboire_ of fifty centimes apiece out of us for the privilege of being served by her. as we left, zorah, with her professional little laugh on her lips, cried out, "_redoua, redoua!_" (to-morrow, to-morrow!) "well--perhaps!" we answered. "_peut-être que oui! peut-être que non!_" a visit to the marabout at el hamel, fifteen kilometres from bou-saada, is one of the things to do. we descended upon him in his hermit shrine, and found him seated on a great carpet of brilliant colouring and reclining on an enormous cushion of embroidered silk,--not the kind the tunisian workers try to sell steamship-cruising tourists during their day on shore, but the real gold-embroidered, silky stuff, such, as dressed the characters of the arabian nights. hung about the marabout's neck was his chaplet of little ebony beads, and behind his head hung an embroidered silken square, its gold olive branches and fruit glittering with sun's rays like an aureole. grouped about the marabout in a squatting semicircle and listening to his holy words were a half-dozen or more faithful mussulmans. one of them was very old, with a visage ridged like a melon rind, and a fringe of beard that once was probably black, but was now a scant gray collaret. his face was the colour of brown earth, but he was manifestly a pure blooded arab; there was not even the telltale pearly-blue tint in the eyes which always marks the half-bred berber-arab type. another, rolled snug in an old burnous, was by his side, his eyes quite closed and his head and body rocking as though he was asleep. he probably was. a third was younger, of perhaps three and thirty, but he was quite as devout as his elders, though he was more wide-awake, and looked curiously and interestedly upon us as we stood in the doorway of the little white temple of a sanctuary awaiting the time when the marabout should be free of his religious duties. our visit was appreciated. we had brought the holy man a few simple gifts of chocolate, matches, and a couple of candles, and donated twenty copper sous to his future support. after the adieux of convention were exchanged, we jogged our little donkeys back to the town by a short cut through the bed of the oued bou-saada. chapter xvii kabylie and the kabyles kabylie is a wild, strange land known to few and peopled by many, though indeed the population is mostly native. colonization has not made great inroads into the mountains of grande and petite kabylie. and though the tract is contiguous to algiers itself, few stranger tourists know it as anything more than a name. still less do they know its savage and undeveloped beauties. the algerian government has pushed a great "route nationale" through the heart of the mountains, and tizi-ouzou and fort national have grown up into more or less important centres of european civilization; but in the main the aspect is as much kabyle to-day as it was when this pure berber race--the purest left in north africa--first began to make its influence felt among the many tribes of the mediterranean coast and the sahara. the mountain villages of kabylie are not mere nests of huddled shacks, nor groups of tents, nor "lean-tos," nor mud huts. they are of well-built houses, with sloping or flat stone roofs, and look like the little hamlets of the pyrenees or the cevennes in france, where the rude winters have taught men to build after a certain fashion in order to live comfortably. the kabyles early learned the same way of doing things; for, in spite of the fact that the brilliant african sun sometimes burns, even in midwinter, with a fervour unknown elsewhere, the mountain-tops are snow-covered for three or four months of the year; and the roads over which the daily antediluvian mail-coach and diligence pass--with occasionally an intrepid automobilist--are often impassable for a week. the railway does not penetrate this mountain fastness beyond tizi-ouzou, and though it skirts the sunny southern side of the woods, the snows of winter blocked it last year for forty-eight hours. and this in africa! if the exterior of the kabyle mountain villages do resemble those of other lands, their interiors have a style of furnishing and decoration all their own. purely kabyle, it is wonderfully decorative, simple, and effective. it is the artist's ideal interior, as the illustration herewith shows. the decorative scheme is its all in all. there is little furniture, almost no _bibelots_, if one omits goat-skin rugs, blankets, and the homely pottery and copper domestic utensils. from fort national the route leads down to meet the trunk line at beni-mançour, and _en route_ takes on even a wilder aspect than that by which one ascended from the seaboard plain around algiers. the journey can be made readily in a day by hired carriage, or, better yet, in a few hours by automobile. from either side extend mountain valleys and ravines, each of them giving place to a road of sorts, practicable to the mountain mule, but to nothing else, save a human being on foot. if one would do some real exploring, let him spend ten days in kabylie. he will think he is in the "forbidden land" of tibet so far as intercourse with the outside world is concerned. footprints of the naked feet of men and women, and of the cloven hoofs of animals, will be the only signs of life visible for hours at a time. yet in spite of the fact that the land is so wild and dreary, it is the most thickly populated region of northern africa. the braying of donkeys, the voices of women, the cries of children, and the gutturals of the men give, if not a melody, at least a quaint and charming sound as one draws up on some hilltop kabyle village. a flock of sheep bars the way, but an old woman with a stick pounds them hither and thither with head-cracking blows, and at last you arrive before the open door of a native café and bargain with a soft-faced brown kabyle youth for a _bourriquet_ to take you twenty kilometres farther on, where you may find a lodging for the night. you must bargain, wherever you are, and for whatever you want, in africa; even with the kabyle. once your bargain made,--three francs for a little donkey for a day, or five, including his owner for a guide,--you need have no fear. the kabyle will hold to it like grim death. the kabyle is a savage if you like, but his virtues are many. the kabyle villages abound in dogs. they may not be vicious dogs, but you don't know whether they are or not, and accordingly are wary. the kabyle dogs have all shades of pitch and gamut in their voices. there are tenors, baritones, and even sopranos, and an occasional bass. if a solitary example is met with on a by-road he is readily made to retreat with a shower of stones; but as he is liable to catch up with you later, accompanied by reinforcements, as you draw up on the village, you must ever be on the _qui vive_. no one ever heard of anybody but a sheep-stealer having been bitten by a kabyle dog (which, by the way, looks like any other mongrel cur): but discretion here, as in many other tight corners, is the chief part of valour. "_de l'audace, encore de l'audace et toujours de l'audace!_" is a stimulating french slogan, but one is in doubt about putting it into practice with a grinning, long-fanged mongrel before him on a lone mountain road. the kabyles are one division of that great race of berbers, the most ancient dwellers on african soil. they have kept the type comparatively pure by inhabiting this restricted area closely bordering upon the atlas mountains a dozen or twenty leagues from the sea. "they are," says m. jules duval, "the principal types of the berber race, and those who have best conserved their ancestral characteristics, and are perhaps the numidians of old." that is a pedigree worth owning up to. brave and industrious, the kabyles can fight as well as bargain, and they value patriotism and ancestral tradition above everything else. of all the mussulman races, the kabyles treat their women with the greatest deference, and even allow them to frequent public fêtes, faces uncovered, and to dance with the men, _yatagan_ or gun in hand. the kabyle is successful in whatever occupation he follows, more so than any of his mussulman brothers. as herders, farmers, armourers, blacksmiths, and masons,--at everything in fact that requires an aptitude and deftness of hand,--they excel. when in straits the kabyle will sell all his worldly goods, save his gun, without the slightest trace of emotion. perhaps this is because his gun is the only thing on which he pays taxes and accordingly he knows its value. it is said of the kabyles that they eat their daughters. "_le père mange sa fille._" this comes from the custom which some of the kabyle tribes have of bartering off the hand of their daughter to the most willing suitor at a price ranging from two hundred to a thousand francs. there's nothing very wrong about this, seemingly, not according to african standards. the kabyle and his relatives in their little square house live the life of a truly happy family. he and his relatives and his live stock--except his camels, the odour from which is a little too strong for even kabyle nostrils--all living together under the same roof. there is no more squalor about it, however, than one may see in the human and pig-inhabited huts of connemara. the kabyle comes of a comparatively wealthy class, but his house furnishings are very meagre. besides the animals before mentioned, he possesses only his _batterie de cuisine_, some great oil jars and earthenware pots for the storing away of olives, butter and honey. he also has a storehouse for grain, where he keeps his wheat or maize flour, which he or the members of his family have themselves ground between the traditional upper and nether millstones, which in this case are portable ones. such is a brief inventory of the dwellings and the round of life of the kabyles of the mountain villages, founded by their ancestors hundreds and perhaps thousands of years ago. some of their race have got the wandering foot, and live in the pastoral black and brown striped tent like the real nomads; but these are comparatively few in number. the real, simon-pure kabyle is a house-dweller. the kabyle mountain settlements are often mere hamlets called _dehera_, and in these the village schoolmaster, besides having his own duties, also performs the functions of priest of the temple. he is literally the _imam_ of the mosque, and carries out according to his faith the monotonous repetition of the words of the koran when not otherwise engaged. every kabyle village has its temples of knowledge and of religion, just as sure as it has a headsman or sheik. the mosque is naturally the most notable edifice of the settlement; but is seldom splendid or pretentious, and often it serves as a hostelry as well as a place of worship. but only for the faithful--not for dogs of infidels. though the kabyles in general are not tent-dwellers, but live in houses of stone or brick construction, these edifices exhibit no particular architectural characteristics; but are as much like the dwellings of the pueblos as they are like those of the thibetans. to all intents and purposes the towns and settlements and, in a measure, all kabyle houses, are fortresses. this is an effect which is heightened by the almost universal employment of substitutes for the crenelated battlement and _meurtrières_ or loopholes, cut in the walls in place of windows, so distinctive of european feudal architecture. just by way of contrast to the virtues of the kabyles, it is bound to be recorded that they are the dirtiest lot that one finds in africa; and inasmuch as this is contrary to the tenets of the mussulman religion it is the more to be remarked. up to within a few years, according to the head of a french mission which surveyed the kabyle country, there was but one public bath establishment to be found in all their native towns and villages. the result is that hereditary affections are transmitted from generation to generation, and were it not for the efficacy of the open-air cure the kabyles would be a considerably less long-lived race than they are. the kabyles live well at all events, and their couscous is renowned throughout all algeria. their preserved figs and ripe and unripe olives are of the first quality and bring the highest prices in the markets of algiers, bougie or beni-mançour. the kabyle is no longer a savage, though he does stick closely to many traditions, and eats his couscous out of a great dish of beechwood fashioned by hand from a cross-section cut from a tree-trunk. the mere fact that he eats it from a plate at all, instead of from a pot, indicates, however, an approaching degree of civilization. the kabyle is primarily a tiller of the soil and a herder of goats and sheep. and when education was thrust upon him, or rather upon his children, by a progressive french government, he resented it. he had cut out an illiterate career for his progeny; he didn't care if they weren't educated, nor did they. he explained it all to the writer in a moorish café one afternoon, in a _patois_ something like the following,--it's a queer thing, arab-french, but it's as good as that of most foreigners nevertheless. "_si li beylick fasir, fic toutes lis enfants dis mitres d'icole, qu'ist-ce qui travaljar la tirre ... qu'ist-ce qui gardi lis chèvres, lis motons, lis vaches?_" who indeed will guard his goats and sheep if the children all go to school! the old man probably will have to work himself. the new generation is changing, but the old-school kabyle is as conservative as a "down-east farmer," a "yorkshireman," or a "_bon provençeau_." the kabyles are the piedmontese or auvergnats of algeria. an indigenous race which has resisted better than any other the march of progress. they have, too, certain other foreign characteristics. one wonders how they got them. they practise the vendetta, like the corsican; they have the _landesgemeinde_, as in certain of the swiss cantons; and they have cock-fights like the spaniards. they are a very curious race of people, but they are becoming enlightened, and rank among the most loyal towards the new french government of all the tribes of algeria. the kabyle has fought for france, and fought well. the first zouaves were kabyles,--the name comes from zouaoua, a kabyle tribe. general clauzel enrolled a company of them in , and taught them what, he was pleased at the time to think, was civilized warfare. doubtless it was, as civilized as any warfare, which is not saying much for it. this new type of soldier, the zouave, has endured to this day in france and elsewhere, and a very practical, businesslike soldier he has proved. the kabyle women jingle with bijoux and scintillate with yards of ribbons and flying draperies, and a strong scented perfume emanates from them with an odour of sanctity, almost, so strange and exotic is it. they know the difficult art of elegance--these mountain women of kabylie--better than their more fashionable sisters. not all the science of the _couturière_ or the _modiste_ can give a tithe of the grace borne naturally by these half-savage kabyle beauties. the jewesses of algiers and tunis have a certain, if crude, voluptuous elegance, which is an adulteration of civilization and savagery; but the kabyle woman, beneath her draperies and her bijoux, expresses something quite different. cleopatra might well have been one of them. their natural graces and their bijoux are the details which set off their charms so splendidly. the cross-breeding of the berber with the arab has no doubt debased the race somewhat. this is mostly among the men and the women who dwell in the towns. apparently these kabyle women are not coquettes, though they smile, always, with their pearly teeth, rouge-red lips, and flashing eyes, bespeaking the sensuality of a land and its customs entirely foreign to european civilization. of beauty they have little according to other standards, although their features are not crude or unlovely. rather is theirs the beauty of a high-bred animal, or the sculptured bronze ideal replica of a race. they are types of a species and are delightful to look upon, alike in face and figure. the kabyle jewelry is something to be coveted by every woman. it can be bought--even in the bazaars and _souks_ of algiers and tunis--at its weight for old silver. but the buying of it is an art, and one must beware of not getting dross or something made in birmingham or solingen. the genuine old stone or [illustration: _things seen in kabylie_] coral-set enamelled kabyle bracelets and necklaces are becoming rarer, and the imitation ones more and more common. still, in any aspect, the designs are beautiful, and far and away ahead of the aberrations of mind which produce the _art-nouveau_ jewelery of bond street or of the rue de la paix. sometimes instead of silver a substitute of dull, unburnished white metal,--pewter most probably,--is used in the settings of these bizarre ornaments, and even then the effect is charming. the kabyles have ever been fond of coral, which, from the earliest times, they gathered from the sea, cutting and polishing the fragments as if they were precious stones. coral is fast disappearing from the african coast, as elsewhere in the mediterranean, wherever the italians have exploited the commerce, and the rosy, translucent branches of old are now more often replaced with the inferior dead coral of a yellowish white or even reddish brown colour. unless indeed celluloid imitations are not used instead. sea shells, too, enter into the make-up of the adornments of the kabyle woman. the metal work, be it gold, silver, or pewter and antimony, is invariably hand-forged, with the loving marks of the hammer still visible. this rough crudity is its charm, for the intrinsic value as a rule is not great. it looks high at fifty francs (a collaret of three or four bands strung together on a silver wire, with a clasp the size of a half-dollar), but when, by the classic process of arab or berber bargaining, you get the same thing for ten francs, it is really _très bon marché_. grande and petite kabylie, the kabylie du djurjura and the kabylie des babors, is not thickly strewn with frenchified towns and cities. on the coast there are dellys, an incipient seaport. bougie, the ancient saldae, where a colony of veterans was established by the great augustus, but now a growing seaport with half of its fifteen thousand population french. djidjelli, a hundred kilometres east of bougie by a wonderful coast road, was the ancient colony of igilgili of augustus. collo is an italianized fishing village; beni-mançour, a flourishing small town to-day, but formerly a simple _bordj_ or halting-place on the main caravan route from east to west; and setif, the _chef lieu_, contains a mixed population of , , of which a quarter part are europeans and , jews. these commercial centres, and a half a dozen smaller places, are the only points where the traveller by road or rail will find any approach to european comforts in all kabylie, excepting at tizi-ouzou and fort national on the branch road from beni-mançour to bougie. tizi-ouzou is the centre of a kabyle population which figures out a hundred and ten souls to the square kilometre. its name signifies "col des genets," and it occupies the site of an old _bordj_ or rest-house of former days. four hours of diligence--which costs four francs--carries one from tizi-ouzou to fort national, at any time of the year between april and december; at other times the pass of tirourda may be snow-covered, and you may become stalled for hours or even days. fort national, in the heart of grande kabylie, is a grim, modern fortress, perched on the highest peak of the algerian mountain range paralleling the coast. it is only interesting from a grim picturesque point of view. the citadel crowns a height a thousand metres above sea-level, and from its terrace unfolds a remarkable panorama of mountain-tops and valleys: "incipient mountain chains stretching out in all directions like the arms of an octopus," a frenchman described these topographical features, and if you know what an octopus looks like you will be struck by the simile. fort national is the best centre from which to make excursions into kabylie, but you must come here in the spring or autumn for the purpose, not in winter or summer. bougie is off the beaten track. to get there one must break his journey going from algiers to biskra, constantine or tunis at beni-mançour. bougie is a coast town, and one of the terminals of the steamship lines from marseilles. because tourists go and come via algiers, or via algiers and tunis or vice versa, bougie is not known of all travellers in north africa. this is where they make a mistake. bougie is the most splendidly situated of all the african mediterranean ports. its points of view and panoramas are ready-made for the artists to jot them down in crude paint on dull canvas--if they can. the most one can do is to try. and bougie, its glistening white-walled houses, its shore-line, its sky-line, and its background of cliff are motifs which will fascinate all who view it, whether for the first or last time. all the same bougie has little enough of interest for the conventional tourist. the native quarter is not remarkable, the mosque is a modern affair, though on good old lines, and the native market, if curious, does not equal those of blida, boufarik, or constantine. it is the site of bougie, and its environs, that make its charms. if its hotels were not poor patterns of those of the pompous prefectures in france it would really be a delightful seaside resort. there are some roman ruins of the days of augustus still remaining, some fragmentary fortifications, and some great cistern vaults. bougie's past was historic, for it was one day the capital of an independent state. the spaniards came and destroyed its independence through the wiles of pedro navarro, who built algiers' peñon. charles v sojourned here for a time, basking under african skies, in . that is all of bougie's romance. chapter xviii constantine and the gorge du rummel constantine is one of the natural citadels of the world. hitherto we had only known it by name, and that chiefly by the contemplation of vernet's "siége de constantine," in that artistic graveyard, the musée de versailles. the bizarre splendour of the site now occupied by the bustling algerian metropolis of constantine struck us very forcibly as we rolled over its great gorge just at sundown on a ruddy autumn evening. it is all grandly theatrical, but it is very real nevertheless. a great deal more real than one would believe as he viewed that hodge-podge painting of vernet's. the town sits high on a ravine-surrounded peak of bare rock, and were it to undergo a siege to-day, not even modern war-engines could reduce it till the dwellers had been starved out. the original settlement was very ancient long before the romans of the time of scipio, who gave it its present name. romans, arabs, vandals, and turks all held it in turn until general valée came in and drove the latter out by strategy. not by siege, as the painter has tried to make us believe. the great rock of constantine is only attached to the surrounding country by a slim neck of land. below lies the rummel, still cutting its bed deeper and deeper each year, until now a very cañon is gouged out of the city's rock foundation. the only communication between the city and the surrounding plateau is by the bridge of el kantara, spectacularly picturesque, though not artistically beautiful, the successor of an old roman bridge on the same site. any who have marvelled at the bridge of ronda in spain, and at the natural rock-bound fortress to which it leads, will observe its similarity to constantine. its rocky walls are impregnable, though not untakable. nothing but a continuous dynamite performance could blow up constantine; to accomplish it would be to blow up a mountain. nevertheless, the french captured the mohammedan fortress at the time of the occupation--albeit at a great expenditure of time and loss of men. centuries earlier than this, in roman days, sallust, governor of the province under cæsar, was a property owner here, and fortified the city that it might best protect his interests. with what success is seen by the fact that, though the fortress was besieged and taken eighty times, its garrison was always starved out; it was never blown up or battered down. the first glimpse of constantine is confusing. it is difficult to separate its component parts; its historic picturesqueness from its matter-of-fact hurly-burly of commercial affairs. the houses seen from the railway appear commonplace and uninteresting, only saved from sheer ugliness by their remarkable situation. the great gorge of the rummel flows beneath the ugly iron bridge,--the successor of that more splendid work of the romans,--and ugly trams, omnibuses, and carts rumble along where one pictures troops of camels and parti-coloured arabs. arabs there are at constantine, of all shades, and turks and jews, of all sects, and when one is actually settled down in his hotel and starts out on a wandering, with the intention of focussing all these things into some definite impression, they begin to grow upon him, and constantine begins to take rank with the liveliest of his imaginings and memories. constantine is a wonder, there is no doubt about that; but one must become acquainted with it intimately in order to love it. constantine's streets are running rivers of as mixed a crew of humanity as one may see out of cairo, constantinople, or port saïd. tunis is its nearest approach in the moghreb. [illustration: a minaret at constantine] the main artery of the arab town is the rue perrégaux. here are the moorish cafés, the mosques, the shops of the sweetmeat sellers, the vegetable dealers, the embroiderers, and the jewellers. the cirta of jugurtha has become the constantine of to-day, but its mediævalism still lives in spite of the contrast of a gaudy opera house, a bank, and an "hôtel-de-ville." the native quarter keeps well to itself, however; and modern improvements do not [illustration: _a constantine mosque_] encroach upon its picturesque primitiveness as they do at algiers. beside its site and its bridge, constantine's monuments are not many or great. the chief one is the mosque of salah bey, with its marble decorations chiselled out by the hand of the slave of an olden time. the cathedral of to-day is built up out of a transformed mosque, but shows, undefiled, its ancient mauresque arcades and faïences. on the broidered _mihrab_, with inscriptions from the koran woven in the woof, some well-meaning christian has added a bleeding heart. is this treating the original mussulman owner right? it seems enough to make a christian church out of a mohammedan mosque, without trying to incorporate two opposing religious symbols in a mural decoration. the ancient palace of the bey,--the last bey of constantine, hadj-ahmed,--though comparatively modern, is a very interesting building. this terrible turk, the bey, was a very terrible potentate indeed. he massacred and pillaged his own subjects. he would nail the hands and feet of a fancied offender to a tree, leaving him to die, and would sew up the mouths and manacle the hands of those who spoke ill of him. he held a big club always uplifted, and many other murderous implements besides were ever in the air ready to fall. this palace of the bey's was in course of construction at the time the turkish domination fell. it had been built of porphyry and marble columns, and fine old tiles and sculptured balustrades, brought by rich merchants as presents to the bey, under pain of imprisonment should they default. it is a miniature alhambra of courts within courts, and is really extraordinarily beautiful. it covers an area of over five thousand square metres. under the guidance of a zouave with baggy red trousers and a fez dangling on the back of his head, we walked and circumnavigated all of the paved and orange-planted quadrangles, and quite believed we were living in the days gone by, in spite of the fact that tram-cars were passing by the door, and inconsiderate, _un-churchly_ chimes were ringing out ribald airs from the neighbouring cathedral tower. on the whole the old beylical palace of constantine is far more elaborate and interesting than the dar-el-bey at tunis--or the bardo, usually reckoned the chief tourist sights of their class. it all depends on the mood, of course, but then we had the mood. some of the frescoes of this palace of turkish dominion are most curious. one of them, painted in the most crude and infantile manner, is inexplicable except for the following legend. a "dog of a christian slave"--as his turkish master called him--was set at the task. he knew nothing of art, but that did not matter to the domineering turk, who said that "all frenchmen were born artists." the frieze was completed, as it may be seen to-day, and the artist (?) stood before his workmanship in fear and trembling, dreading his master's wrath. the wrath was not forthcoming. his beyship liked the frieze of birds as big as houses, of ships and frogs all of a size, of cows the size of mosques, and all the other fantasies of an untrained hand and brain. "i told you," said the bey, "all these dogs of frenchmen know how to paint;" and with that he set him free. all potentates have their vagaries. hadj-ahmed's were no greater and no worse than the present german emperor's, which have permitted, if not commanded, political portraits to be sculptured on the portals of a christian church. constantine is unique. it is a city as live and bustling as any of its size on earth. it is undergoing a great development. everybody is prosperous and contented. and, above all, it is historic, and its native quarter unspoiled in spite of the city's great attempts to become a commercial metropolis. constantine is the gateway to a vast and wealthy grain-growing region, and it sits high and proud on the great central plateau of algeria between the desert and the sea. practically it is the sole gateway or means of communication through which passes a great proportion of all the life and movement of the great province of which it is the capital. contrastingly constantine's magnificently theatrical site gives entirely another view-point for the stranger within its gates. the great gorge of the rummel cuts the city entirely off from the surrounding plateau by a thousand foot chasm, where the gathered waters of the plain roll and thunder with such regularity and force that the steep sides are cut sheer as if by the quarryman's drill. constantine's arab town, too, is entirely a unique thing. it is complete, unspoiled, and genuine. it sits off at one side of the european town, sloping down towards the steep brink of the gorge, and is entirely uncontaminated with the contemporary life of the french. its colouring is marvellous; and the comings and goings, and the daily affairs, of its arab merchants and traders lend a charm [illustration] of antiquity which not even the realization of the fact that we are living in the twentieth century can wholly spoil. the kabyle with his skins of oil, the berber with his wool and leathers, and the town-bred arab--half turk, half jew--occupying himself with all sorts of trading, give a local colour rich and unmixed, such as one finds nowhere else in the east,--either at algiers, tunis, cairo, or constantinople. what is lacking is mere size and grandeur,--the rest is all there. and the moorish cafés and the sweetmeat and pastry sellers' shops of constantine's arab town, visited on the eve of ramadan, give such a variety of surprises that no one who has once seen them can ever forget them. to return to the great scenic charm of constantine; it must be seen and familiarized. as a mere gorge it is no more wonderful than dozens of others,--in the rockies in america; in the tarn, or the gorges du loup, in the maures. what the gorge du rummel stands for is that it is, and has been for ages, the chief defence of the great city of constantine, and for that reason it appeals more strongly than any other of its kind. before entering the narrow chasm which renders the position of constantine, "_la ville aérienne_," well-nigh impregnable, the rummel, or rivière des sables, has joined forces with the boumezou, the river which fertilizes. the change is sudden from the sunny valley to the dark passage des roches. the torrent, suddenly narrowed, passes close to a hot spring spurting forth from a cleft in the rock, then flowing through the arch of the devil's bridge and tumbling in cascades through the winding chasm or ravine. from the edge of the abyss one cannot see the stream which is hidden by the curves of the ravine; the projecting strata of rock furrowed at frequent intervals by vertical water-worn clefts even prevent one from seeing the bottom. just below the rock bridge of el kantara (that of to-day being a reconstruction of the roman work), the rummel disappears beneath a vault of rock. the ravine here is only a narrow trench, torn and pierced by underground passages, from the bottom of which rises the sound of rushing waters. three hundred metres beyond, the torrent emerges from these dark galleries and on both sides the cliffs rise vertically. a single isolated arch, naturally ogival and singularly regular in form, still uniting the two walls of rock. here the irregularities and rents in the earth's surface are the most imposing; the walls of variously coloured rock here and there overhang and rise to a height of over metres, giving a perilous foothold to the buildings of the town above. at this apex of the island city above is the kef cnecora or rocher du lac, from which an old-time _pacha_ threw down his recalcitrant wives sewn up in sacks, quite after the conventional manner of the day, one thinks. yes, but here they had an awful drop, and fell not always on the soft watery bed of the river, but on the pointed, jagged rocks of the rapids. theirs must have been an awful death! years ago access to the ravine was entirely impracticable; but since an intrepid engineer with a ninety-nine year concession has built rock ladders and bridges along its whole length--and charges two francs to cross them--the experience of making this semisubterranean tour of constantine is within reach of everybody. one day at constantine a discordant rumbling of voices in the street below attracted us to the windows of our hotel. a strange, conglomerate procession of mussulman faithful was marching by. hundreds of brown arab folk, kabyles, moors, and nomads from the south, were marching hand in hand, each with a flower behind his right ear, and all shouting at the top of their voices. a funeral procession had passed but a few moments before, and we thought it a part of the same ceremony, though indeed, as we learned later, it was something quite different. [illustration] the few straggling hundreds of the head of the procession soon grew into thousands, all chanting verses of the koran. following close came the gaily coloured green, white, and red flag of the prophet. we followed in the wake of the procession and at the end of the town came to the mussulman cemetery. there is no remarkable sadness or sentiment about the arab cemetery at constantine, at least not such as one associates with a christian burial-place. it sits on the sunny slope of a hill, with a silhouette of mountains for a background, and a foreground strewn, helter-skelter, with little tombs and _koubas_ in crazy building-block fashion. there is no symmetry about anything, and tiny headstones crop up here and there through a tangle of weeds and wild flowers. frequently there is a more imposing slab, and occasionally a tomb or _kouba_ tinted blue or pink, with perhaps its dome gilded. the whole impression, however, is of an indiscriminate mixture of things that just "happened in place," and were not set out on any preconceived plan. one imposing domed _kouba_ has a bit of shade from an overgrowing tree and is surrounded by a little level grass-plot which gives it a certain distinction of dignity such as a religious shrine should have. beyond the cemetery was a great open plot upon which was to be held the mussulman fête, which was the real objective of the fast-growing procession, and which by this time had gathered into its fold all of constantine's available mussulman population,--some twenty-five thousand souls who habitually say their prayers to allah. here at the fête the thousands of arabs, their yellow, red, or green burnouses flowing in the breeze like flags and pennants, grouped themselves first of all around the _khaouadji_, or open-air cafés, the drinking of coffee being the preliminary to every social function with the arab. at the further end of the open ground were set up the tents of the great chiefs,--the caïds and cadis of the surrounding tribes, and along one side were grouped cook-shops and fruit-sellers. there were no "hurdy-gurdies," "aunt sallies," or "shooting galleries." the arab takes his pleasures and makes his rejoicings less violently, preferring to squat on his heels, or lie on a straw mat, and drink coffee, smoke cigarettes, or munch a handful of dates or a honey-cake boiled in oil. one general cook-shop occupied a prominent place. here were great copper cauldrons where the couscous was being prepared. this indigenous algerian dish is about the only one containing meat which the temperate arab eats. even then he eats mostly of the _semoule_ and bread and gravy, leaving the fragments of mutton or lamb, or chicken (if by chance one wandered aimlessly into the pot) to be boiled down again for another brew. the arab eats his couscous out of a great wooden platter, and disdains knife or fork or spoon. a dozen arabs sit around this shallow bowl of wood and dip their fingers into it, each in his proper turn. it is a sort of game of grab. one may get a choice morsel, or he may not. if not as cleanly a method of eating as that of the chinaman's chopsticks, at any rate one's appetite is sooner satisfied. the arab has the true spirit of _camaraderie_ in his eating and drinking. the most cultivated and fastidious will mingle with the hoi-polloi, and eat from the same dish and drink from the same _merdjil_ as the most miserable one among the crowd. the fête, for such it was, seemed to have little religious significance, beyond the marching in procession and chanting, and the fact that it was being held in proximity to holy ground. after the feast there was something like a demonstration, when two score or more arabs did a sort of a fanatical dance or swirl, which reminded one of the combination of an indian war-dance and the gyrations of the dervishes of cairo. shrill cries and dislocating leaps and bounds brought some of the participants, in time, to a state of inanimation and convulsions; but still the others kept on. one by one a dancer would drop out, this evidently being the way the game was played. when we finally came away, half of them were still bounding about in a frenzy of delirium. we learned later they were a sect of islam, called the aïssaouas, whose principal tenet of faith is the mortification of the flesh. there are various ways of doing this: the hair shirt, flagellation, and crawling about on the hands and knees; but the way of the aïssaouas is certainly the most violent. some of them even go so far as to pierce the cheeks and nose with great pins and needles; but if one can swirl and gyrate himself into an epileptic state, his chances of grace and entrance into that paradise of houris promised by mahomet are just as good. the fête finally came to an end sometime during the night. then the cook-shops and _khaouadjis_ piled up their belongings in a donkey cart, or on camel-back, and the arabs folded their tents and silently stole away after the manner set forth in the fable. the marabout in whose honour all this came about was then left in peace to sleep his long sleep undisturbed until the same orgie should be repeated the following year. the environs of constantine are marvellously beautiful. northward towards philippeville by road or rail one rises to the col des oliviers by zigzags and sharp turns, to descend eventually--a matter of a couple of thousand feet or more--to the brilliant blue mediterranean. nearer at hand, rising high above constantine itself, are the hills of mansourah and sidi-m'cid, and to the west the fertile valley of the hamma. philippeville is interesting only because of its site, which lies on the beautiful gulf of stora, an ancient port of the romans. the monuments of philippeville are nearly nil. there are some few fragments of the arcades of an old amphitheatre, and the modern mosque, though in no way an ambitious monument, is picturesquely perched above the town. the great square, or _place_, opposite the port is a modern improvement which is commendable enough, but not in the least in keeping with africa. it is more like a cheap imitation of monte carlo's terrace. the italian influence is strong in all these parts. the village of stora, about four kilometres from philippeville, is practically peopled by italians. and one hears as much italian as he does french in the streets of philippeville. the little house-corner shrines to be found all over the older part of the town are also frankly reminiscent of italy. in the bay, too, the little lateen-rigged, clipper-prowed fishing-boats are italian in design, and are manned by italians. right here one recalls that the "sunny italian" in a foreign land is almost invariably a "digger of dirt," a worker on a railway or canal cutting, or a fisherman. philippeville has a decided colour of its own, but it is not arab, and the french is so blended with the italian that its colouring is decidedly mixed. chapter xix between the desert and the sown south from constantine to biskra at the desert's edge is two hundred kilometres as the crow flies. as the humble apology of an _express_-train goes, the distance is covered in eight hours, and that's almost fifteen miles an hour. delightful, isn't it? at the same time this snail's-pace gives one a chance to observe things as he goes along, and there is much to observe. the high plateau on which sits constantine, surrounded by its grain fields and its grazing-grounds, is a vastly productive region, and prosperity for the european and the _indigène_ comes easily enough. the conditions of life here are more comfortable than elsewhere in the algerian countryside, save perhaps in the mitidja around blida. this great plateau of the tell, the granary of africa and one of the finest wheat-growing belts of the old world, knows well the rigours of winter; but the summer is long and hot, and crops push out from the ground with an abundance known nowhere else in these parts. the mountains of "grande kabylie" bound it on the west and north, and the aures on the east and south. beyond is the desert and its oases. the contrast of topography and climate between the desert and the "sown" is remarkable. all changes in the twinkling of an eye as one passes through the rocky gorge of el kantara,--one of those mythological marvels accomplished by the hand or heel of hercules. at any rate, the cleft in the rock wall is there, and in a hundred yards one leaves the winds and chilly atmosphere of a late autumn or early winter's day behind, and plunges into the still, burning atmosphere of the desert, with palm-tree oases scattered here and there. the same phenomenon may be observed elsewhere, but not in so forcible a fashion. at batna in winter you may see an occasional bear-skin coat, with the "fur side out," and at biskra, sixty odd miles away, you will find a temperature of say degrees centigrade-- degrees fahrenheit. _en route_ from constantine by railway no towns or cities of note are passed until the great military post of batna is reached. here one may break his journey and get an aspect of the mingling life of the desert and the town arab, which is astonishing in its complexity. the town arab lives much as we do ourselves,--at least some of his species do,--wears, sometimes, a norfolk jacket and shoes, which he calls "_forme américaine_," and travels first-class on the railway when he takes his promenades abroad. the other still clings to his burnous and takes off his shoes at every opportunity, travelling by camel caravan, as did his ancestors of a thousand years ago. batna itself possesses no monuments of note. it is, however, the starting-point for lambessa and timgad, the finest ancient roman ruined cities left standing above ground to-day,--not excepting pompeii. a résumé of the delights of these fascinating roman relics is given in another chapter of this book. batna possesses a remarkably well-kept commercial hotel, the "hôtel des Étrangers et continentals." it is not a tourist hotel, which is all the better for it. moreover it has electric lights in the bedrooms, and a very distinctive and excellent menu on the table. what more could one want--in what people are wont to think of as savage africa? we took a likely looking arab for a guide at batna, though indeed there was nothing special in the immediate neighbourhood for him to guide us to. he wore a "touring club de france" badge in his turban, and read religiously each month the t. c. f. "_revue_," and accordingly he appropriated every stranger as his right, whether one would or no. he was useful, however, in keeping off other importunate arabs in the great market as we strolled between the stalls. batna's negro village is curiously interesting, though squalid and in ill repute among the authorities. "_ici le village nègre_;" says your arab guide after you have trudged a couple of kilometres over a real desert trail. there are only a few of these "black blocks" in north africa, the negroes usually mingling with the arabs. at night, in batna's _village nègre_, one might think he was in some head-centre of voodooism, so quaint and discordant are the sights and sounds. negroes are much the same the world over, whenever they herd together, whether they come from the soudan, guinea, or alabama. here in algeria the negro café is a coffee-shop only a shade more murky than the other coffee-shops. and the faces of those squatting round about, though they glisten in the smoky atmosphere,--ineffectually penetrated by a dim light radiating from a swinging lamp in the centre,--are more dusky. a tumultuous, raucous chant breaks out above a murmur now and then, though most of the time the sound is a mysterious crooning wail, the genuine negro wail, which is not at all like the banshee's, but quite as penetrating. it might be a prison cell or the hold of a slave-ship, this negro café, for all one can distinguish of its appointments. there is nothing luxurious here; it is not classy or exclusive in the least. a _sou_ a cup is the price the negro pays for his coffee. and since he hasn't the arabs' prejudices against strong drink, he can get beet-root and turnip-top _cognac_ and chemically made absinthe at cut-rate prices, which appeal largely to his pocket, if not his taste. this symphony in dusk, and in thin, shrill so-called music, is impressive. there are negro musicians, negro dancing-women, and a negro proprietor. it's the real, unadulterated "coontown" drama, where the players are the real thing, and not the coffee-coloured "in-dahomey" kind. one touch of white only was to be seen in batna's negro café. this was an arab of the hauts-plateaux, with a long, aquiline profile and a flowing burnous and _haïk_, most probably the lover of one of the trio of dancing-women. his emotions were passive. he might have been at home under his own vine and fig-tree. still he was out of place, and looked it. the most he would do was to give a sickly smile at some rude pleasantry of his black companions,--and we did that ourselves. what of this negro company were not drinking thick, muddy coffee or "caravan" tea were smoking _kif_. the odour of opium, mint, and kerosene was abominable. a negro of the soudan might stand it, but not a white man; at least none whiter than the lone arab. so we passed on our way, the dancing-women shrieking, the shrill trumpet or _chalumeau_ squealing, the tambourine jangling, and the oil-lamp smoking. it was not heavenly. batna has a very excellent french school for arab children, and it is there that the young idea learns how to "_parler français_." the french schools are doing good work, no doubt, but they are spoiling the simplicity of the native. at batna we saw a school "prize-giving," which was conducted as follows: "premier prix d'application," called out a black-coated preceptor, "abdurhaman-ben-mohammed, arachin-el-oumach." "boum! boum!" shouted the rest of the class. second prize, third prize, and so on; and all the little rag-tag brown and black population came up in a long file,--they all got prizes apparently,--and the whole thing wound up, as all french functions do, even if they are in the heart of africa, with the singing of the "marseillaise." the next objective point, going south from batna, is el kantara and its gorge. if ever longfellow's poetic lines were applicable, they are here. "suddenly the pathway ends, sheer the precipice descends, loud the torrent roars unseen; thirty feet from side to side, yawns the chasm; on air must ride he who crosses this ravine." el kantara is easily the most remarkable "sight" of all algeria. its hotel bertrand is a most excellently verandaed establishment,--almost the only house in the place,--and one may sit on its gallery and watch a continual stream of camels, horses, mules, and donkeys going by its dooryard all the livelong day. the trail of other days has now become a "route nationale," and is the only means of highway communication, for a hundred miles east or west, between the plateau lands of the north and the desert of the south. here all roads and tracks coming from a wide area in the north converge to a narrow thread of a road which squeezes itself between the uprights of the rocky walls of the gorge of el kantara. the romans knew this cleft in the rocky wall, and built a fine old roman bridge to clear the rushing torrent below. the bridge is still there, an enduring monument to the roman builder, but a new road and a railway bridge now overhang it; so it remains simply as a milestone in the march of progress. the red curtain-rocks of the mountain chain at el kantara form the dividing-line between the north and the south. suddenly, as one clears the threshold, he comes upon a smiling oasis of a hundred thousand date-palms, where a kilometre back was a sterile, pebbly plateau-plain. three little baked-mud villages, the "_village rouge_," the "_village blanc_," and the "_village noir_," huddle about the banks of the oued kantara with waving palms overhead and a rushing, gurgling torrent at their feet. [illustration: _the village and the gorge of el kantara_] there are mouflons and gazelles in the mountains on either side, and "the chase" is one of the inducements held out by the hotel and messaoud-ben-ghebana to prolong your stay. they don't guarantee you either a mouflon (which is the "barbary sheep" the novelists write about) or a gazelle; but messaoud-ben-ghebana will find them if any one can, and charge you only five francs a day for his services,--including a donkey to carry the traps. there are three classic excursions to be made at el kantara,--always, of course, with messaoud as guide. to the gorges de tilatou, to the gorges de maafa, and to beni-ferah. you may get a gazelle on the way, or you may not, but you will experience mountain exploration in all its primitiveness. if you like it, you can keep it up for a week or a month, for el kantara is a much finer centre for making excursions from, or indeed for spending the winter in, than biskra and its overrated attractions of great hotels, afternoon tea, quaker oats, huntley & palmer's, and "dundee,"--what the french call orange marmalade,--with which the grocers fill their shop-windows to catch visitors from across the seas. el kantara is an artist's paradise; the mountains, the desert, the palms of the oasis, and the native villages are all close at hand, and there, a short stroll away, is the ocean of sand itself. the artist set up shop _en plein désert_ one day, and turned her back for a moment only, when the outfit, white umbrella, paint-box, and camp-stool all disappeared as if buried in the dunes of sand. not a trace of them was to be seen, nor of any living thing or person either, only a dim, shadowy low-spread tent, which had mysteriously sprung up beneath a neighbouring date-palm while her attention had been called away. from its cavernous door slowly emerged a real desert arab and a train of followers, consisting of two or three women and a numerous progeny. perhaps they knew something of a white umbrella, etc. no, they didn't. at least the father of the family didn't; but suddenly he spied under a corner of the tent flap something strange and hitherto unrecognized. the umbrella was all right, also the stool, but the paint-box had been turned out, and the tubes looked, half of them, thin and twisted, as though they had been emptied; as indeed they had,--sucked dry by some of that numerous progeny like enough, though no ill effects were apparent. all was taken in at a glance, and the afore-mentioned father of the family turned on his offspring and called them "_putains de juif du mellah_," "_rénégads_," "_voleurs_," "_racines amères_" and much more vituperation of the same kind. apologies were profuse, but after all was said and done, we felt quite grateful for the exhibition of righteous wrath. the desert arab is a stern father if a good one. the arab makes you angry sometimes, but in this case it was the children who had caused the trouble, and ragamuffins the world over lack responsibility, so that can't be laid to the arab. chapter xx biskra and the desert beyond _biskra, tout le monde descend! ouf!_ it might be jersey city or chicago; one experiences at last that sense of having reached a journey's end. at least it will seem so to most who come to the desert's edge by train from constantine or algiers, after two days of as rocky, uncomfortable railway travelling as one can imagine in these progressive days. biskra is commonly reputed the ideal of a desert oasis, but indeed as an oasis it is no more delightful than that at el kantara. not every one will find his "garden of allah" at biskra. biskra is by no means all things to all men. leaving out the silly sentiment, which has been propagated by a school of writers who take themselves too seriously, there is nothing at biskra which is not better elsewhere. it is truly, though, a typical desert oasis, and the town which has grown up around it is but the natural outcome of trade following the flag, for biskra is the commercial and military gateway to the sud-constantinois. [illustration: biskra _its arab villages_] biskra is not without its distinctive character. its native life, its market, and its moorish coffee-house, are all typical; but in a way they have become contaminated with the influx from the outside world and much of their colour has paled. one of the curses biskra bestows upon the stranger within her gates is that of an innumerable and importunate crew of guides,--of all colours and shades, of all grades of intelligence, and of all degrees of proficiency in french. the guides of biskra wear turbans, coifs, and fezes. they look as though they belonged to every mohammedan tribe of the universe. those who wear bowler hats are harder to place; one rather suspects that they are jews. "get a guide to keep off the other guides," is the best advice one can give the stranger to biskra. what makes this state of affairs? too much exploitation, and too many lavish and foolish english and americans. in this respect biskra is not as bad as cairo, but it is getting that way. biskra's attractions for the visitor are many of them artificial. there are the great hotels, with their "halls," "smoking-rooms," "reading-rooms," and "bars," and the incipient [illustration: _the courtyard of the hôtel des ziban, biskra_] casino with its music and "distractions;" and there is the café glacier with its cool drinks at paris prices. everything at biskra is good in quality, but lacking character. one hotel stands out above all others for excellence and distinctive features. it is the hôtel des ziban. it has a distinctive clientèle, made up largely of personages such as the officers of the garrison, a great sheik or caïd of a southern tribe, a grim, taciturn individual with a dozen decorations on his breast, a government official, a minister, perhaps, and so on. and of course tourists as well, for tourists are everywhere at biskra, even in the rue sainte, where they ought not to be,--at least not after dark. biskra's chief tourist "sights," after the palm-tree oases of old biskra and the jardin landon, are the moorish cafés, and the _naylettes_, or ouled-naïl dancers, of the rue sainte. one need not affect this sort of thing if he doesn't want to; but, aside from playing bridge in the hotel parlours, or drinking beer in the café glacier and listing to "la musique" of "les artistes parisiennes," there is not much else to do at night except doze in the hotel smoking-room or _salon_, with scores of other fat old ladies and gentlemen. the _café maure_ or moorish coffee-shop of north africa has no distinct form of architecture. it may be a transformed shop in the european quarter; the vestibule of a moorish habitation, or of a mosque; a stone or mud hut by the roadside overhung by a great waving banana plant or palm; or it may be a striped lean-to tent. the interior fittings vary also. in the towns the oven is built up of blue and yellow tiles, and the pots and cups are kept on a great slab of marble or tile. by the roadside there are the cups and a tin or copper pot; but the supplies are invariably kept in an unsoldered five-gallon kerosene can. these come out from philadelphia by the hundreds of thousands, and find their way to all the corners of the earth. the japanese and the chinese use them to roof their huts with; the singapore boatmen to carry their water-supply; and the arab as cooking utensils, and very useful they are. they are a by-product and cost nothing, except to the standard oil company, the original shippers. the moorish cafés of biskra are as typical of their class as any seen in the towns, even though they are tourist "sights." the whole establishment is gaudy and crude, with its plastered walls, its rough, unpainted furnishings, its seats and benches all smoke-coloured, as if they were centuries old,--though probably they are not. in the rear, always in plain view, is the _oudjak_, the vaulted oven or heater, where the thick, syrupy coffee is brewed and kept hot. the chief notes of colour are the little wine-glasses, the cups, the water-bottles, the tiled backgrounds, and the head-gear of the habitués, and the parrot--always a parrot, in his crudely built cage. the establishments of biskra are typical _cafés maures_, and might well be on the edge or middle of the desert itself, instead of in a very frenchified algerian city of eight thousand inhabitants. here are congregated all that queer _mélange_ of north african peoples: nomads and arabs of the desert; half-bred, blue-eyed men of the coast; the delicately featured kabyles; moroccans; some spahis; a negro or two, black as night; and even makhazni from the interior, who are at home wherever their horse and saddle may be. all these and more--the whole gamut of the cosmopolitan population of the mediterranean--are here. in the moorish cafés and the "black tents" alike, makhazni and spahis play the spanish "ronda" or dominoes with all the devotion of lovers of sedentary amusements elsewhere. the spahi and the negro will play together all day and half the night, shuffling the cards and juggling the dominoes, and only a savage grunt, or cry, periodically breaks their silence. their emotions are mostly expressed by indeterminable, leery grins. night falls, and one street alone in biskra retains the activities and life of the daytime. it is the street of cafés, where, behind closed doors, dance the ouleds-naïls for the delectation of the arab, the profit of the patron, and for the curious from overseas to speculate upon. the performance of the moorish cafés of biskra, constantine, and tunis are amusing and instructive, if not edifying, no doubt. but those who expect the conventional "musical evening" will be disappointed. painted sequin-bedecked women depend more upon their physical charms to appeal to the arab _bourgeoisie_ and the zouaves, spahis and turcos, who mostly make up their audiences, than to the rhythm of the accompanying orchestra, which many a time is drowned out by the free and easy uproar. the music of the _indigènes_ may be soothing, but one must be an _indigène_ to feel that way about it. there is nothing very soothing to the anglo-saxon about the incessant beating of a tambourine, or the prolonged shrill squeak of a reed pipe, the combination made hideous by the persistent whining of the renegade desert arab who "bosses the job," the only occupation at which he can work while sitting down and drinking coffee for twenty-two hours out of the twenty-four. his profits must all go for coffee. a hundred cups a day and as many more in a night does not seem to jaundice his eye or dull his energies, such as they are. coffee and tobacco--of any old kind--will keep an arab musician going, whereas a spaniard with a guitar, an italian with a mandolin, or a german with a trombone, would want some solid food and alcoholic refreshment as well. from this one gathers that the arab is temperate; and he is in most things, except coffee, cigarettes, and music. if one is a serious, thorough, vagabond traveller, and would study the ouled-naïls and their histories, all well and good; there's something in it. but if one goes to prowling around biskra's rue sainte merely for adventure, he is liable to get it, and of a costly kind, and he will learn nothing about the ouled-naïls from an ethnological point of view. the sentimental writers have drawn altogether too sentimental a picture of this plague-spot. in truth the ouled-naïls are a race of girls and women quite apart from those other algerian tribes. they come to biskra, to constantine, and to algiers, and live the lives of other free-and-easy women of the world. they dance in the moorish cafés for the delectation of arabs, turks, and strangers, and they carry on a considerably less moral traffic as well, gaining _sous_, _francs_, and _louis_ meanwhile. when she has enough golden sequins to link together in a kind of a _cuirasse_, which hangs from her velvet brown neck down over her chest in an amulet half a yard square, the ouled-naïl _danseuse_ retires from business. she goes back to her tribe in the southwest, becomes virtuous, makes some arab sheep-herder or camel-trader happy, and raises a family, the girls of which in time go through the same proceedings. the game is an hereditary one, and it is played desperately and, apparently, with less ill effects than one would suppose. for the women are accredited as living moral lives ever after,--once they get back to their homes. it is the contact with civilization, or semicivilization, which does them harm. the casino at biskra offers as one of its attractions the sight of these dancing women of the ouled-naïls without the necessity of contaminating oneself by going down into their quarter and seeing the real thing. the contamination is just as great in the gilded halls of the casino as in some dingy, smoky _café maure_, but the local colour is wanting. the excursions to be made from biskra are not as many, nor so enjoyable, as those from el kantara. the round of old biskra and its villages is readily made on foot or by carriages; and one may even continue farther afield to the sandy, wavy dunes of the desert, and to the "fontaine chaude," or to the shrine of sidi-okba, twenty kilometres out over the camel trail of the open desert. this excursion to sidi-okba is classic. sidi-okba sits in the midst of a fine oasis of some seventy thousand date-growing palms. it is a miserable, unlovely enough little village, but the memory of the arab conqueror, okba-ben-nofi, has made it famous. "you will find nothing to eat at sidi-okba," say the guide-books. "you must carry your provisions." it all depends on what you want to eat. if it is simple refreshment only, you will find it here at sidi-okba--the tomb of the founder of kairouan--in a veritable _guinguette_ such as one sees in suburban paris, with arbours, trellised vines, and glittering coloured balls of glass suspended from the trees. it is a little bit of transplanted france, dull, tawdry, and uninteresting enough. but still, there it is,--a café-restaurant sitting tight in a little arab village, before the tomb of the great sidi-okba, which attracts pilgrims all through the year from among the mussulman population of all north africa. the mosque, where repose the sainted man's remains, is the most ancient monument of islam in algeria. the tomb, the mosque, the medersa, or arab school, and the afore-mentioned _guinguette_, are all there are at sidi-okba; but it should be omitted from no man's, or woman's, itinerary in these parts. back again over the same route one gains biskra after a hard day's round _en voiture_, or on the back of a donkey, or a mulet, as he chooses. the only things you see _en route_ are an occasional solitary _gourbi_; a mud hut or two; or perhaps a simple tomb or _kouba_ rising away in the distance,--a white silhouette against a background of yellow sand and blue sky. these little punctuating notes dot the landscape all through tunisia and algeria. frequently you will find scattered about the _kouba_ numerous detached tombs, still distinguishable, though half buried in the sand. these detached shrines and cemeteries, often half submerged in great waves of sand, are met with on the outskirts of nearly all algerian towns and cities; and one is no more surprised at coming upon one beside the road than he is at the sight of a kilometre stone. southwest from biskra is the region of the ziban, a zone of steppes, planted here and there with verdant oases. topographically the features of the ziban are mountainous, though ranges of the zab slope and taper off imperceptibly into the dunes of the desert. the inhabitants of the ziban are of a race differing considerably from the kabyle and the arab, favouring the former more than the latter. the plaited hair of the women, their general barbaric love of jewelry and personal adornment, their complexion, their chains, bracelets, and collarettes all point to the fact that they are an immigrant race, the development of a stock originally brought from afar, and not descended from the desert nomad. throughout algeria the nomad arab is he who comes from the sahara and its closer confines during the summer, returning with his herds in the winter to the desert, or to the great tents of his father's tribe. the arab peasant, or labourer, is a native of the tell region, and is manifestly not of the same purity of type as the desert arab who speaks the pure idiom of the koran. the kabyle is another race apart. the distinctive characteristics of the three peoples are easily recognized when you are once familiar with them. bordering upon the monts du zab (the ziban) are the monts des ouled-naïls, the home of the curiously distinct tribe before mentioned, who are more like degenerate kabyles than they are like the desert arab tribes. still farther in the southwest is a sad, gloomy land, half desert and half mountain, not wholly saharan, and yet not wholly algerian, either in topographical characteristics or in the characteristics of its people. it is the region of the m'zabs, wild savage children of an uncivilized land, fanatically religious and veritable _débauchés_,--which the berber tribes are not. their houses are poor, but their purses are well lined, and, since france has taken over algeria, they are also french, though they might be martians for all they resemble the french. "it takes five arabs to get the best of an algerian jew," says a proverb of the sud, "and five jews to master a m'zabite." in origin the people are supposed to be a mixture of the ancient phoenicians and numidians. members of the tribe swarm all over algeria, and are found even in marseilles, as ambulant merchants, but they invariably return to their native land, for, it seems, it is a tenet of their religion not to remain away more than two years. among them are four orthodox sects of mussulmans, and still another peculiar to themselves, whose chief characteristic seems to consist of interminable praying; whereas the conventional mohammedan is contented with exhorting his god five times a day. their towns rank as veritable holy cities in their creed, with ghardaïa as the capital. the satellite _villes saintes_ are melika, ben-izguen, bou noura, el ateuf, beryan, and guerrara. in all their population numbers between thirty and forty thousand. the general aspect of the land is one of melancholy, because of the numbers of their burial-grounds, three or four surrounding each town. the cemeteries are "places of prayer" with the m'zabites, and their population of weeping, wailing, praying faithful is always numerically greater than the dead. when the m'zabite is not selling something he is praying. quite the most varied ethnographic and topographic changes to be observed in north africa are those south of biskra, within the limits of el kantara on the north and oued-souf in the south. the religious tribes and sects are numerous, each having its own supplementary creeds and customs; the ziban differing from those of the ramaya, the zogga, the sidi-okba, and the oued b'hir. still other oases passed _en route_ have their _zaouyas_ or brotherhoods of professing coreligionists, not differing greatly from each other in general principles, but still possessed of variants as wide apart as the methodists and universalists of the christian world. throughout all this region the marabouts, or holy men, are most hospitable, and are as appreciative of little attentions--gifts of chocolate, of candles, or even matches--as could possibly be imagined. in many cases they are veritable hermits, whose only intercourse with the outside world is with passing strangers,--who are few. chapter xxi in the wake of the roman the path of the roman through north africa was widely strewn with civic and military monuments as grand as any of the same class elsewhere in the western empire. one comes to associate the ancient roman with gaul, and is no longer surprised when he contemplates the wonderful arenas of arles and nîmes or the arch and the theatre at orange. pompeii and herculaneum are classic memories of our school-time days, and we think it nothing strange that their ruins exist to-day. when, however, we view the vast expanse of vertical marbles at timgad in algeria's plateau of the tell, the prætorium at lambessa, the great roman arch at tebessa, the amphitheatre at djemel, or the ruined portal of dougga, it all comes so suddenly upon us that we wonder what nature of a hodge-podge dream we are living in. the effect is further heightened when one sees a caravan of camels, horses, and donkeys, and its accompanying men and women of the desert, camped beside some noble roman arch or tomb standing alone above the desert plain. it is not alone, of course. there are other neighbouring remains buried round about, or there are still fragments that serve some neighbouring settlement as a quarry from which to draw blocks of stone to build anew, as did the builders of certain italian cathedrals draw some of their finest marbles from the ruins of old carthage. all north africa is very rich in roman ruins, and the arabs are as interested in these antique remains as are the whitest, longest-bearded archæologists that ever lived. it is not their love of antiquity that accounts for this, but the possibility of getting information which will lead to treasure. most of these north african roman ruins were despoiled of all articles of value by the ancestors of the present arabs long before the antiquarians took it into their heads to exploit them; but the traditional game still goes on. the arab of algeria to-day still looks forward to the time when he may yet discover a vast buried treasure. perhaps he may! who knows? tradition and legend all but definitely locate many buried hoards which have not yet been touched, and any grotto or cavern miraculously or accidentally discovered may prove a veritable gold mine. the arab thinks that this is as sure to happen to him as for the clock to strike twelve on the eve of the jour des rameaux. and that he will tumble on all fours into the midst of a cavern paved and walled with gold, pearls, and precious stones. from tlemcen on the west (the ancient pomaria of the romans, and an important roman camp) to tozeur in the sud-tunisien (the site of the still more ancient thusuros) is one long, though more or less loosely connected, chain of relics of the roman occupation. at cherchell are vestiges of an antique roman port; at tipaza various civic monuments; and not far distant the enigmatic "tombeau de la chrétienne." on the coast, to the east of algiers, is stora, a port of antiquity, and bona (the ancient hippo-regius), where the tourist to-day divides his attentions between the commonplace basilica erected to saint augustin, who was bishop of hippo-regius in the fourth century, and the tomb of the marabout sidi-brahmin, with the balance of appeal in favour of the latter simple shrine. modern christian architecture often descends to base, unfeeling garishness, whereas the savage [illustration: _the kasba, bona_] simplicity of the exotic races often produces something on similar lines, but in a great deal better taste. here is where the onyx and marble basilica at bona, albeit one of christendom's great shrines, loses by comparison with the simple _kouba_ of the mohammedan holy man. on the route from bona to hippo-regius (to-day hippone) is a restored roman bridge, so restored indeed that it has lost all semblance of antiquity, but still it is there to marvel at. "_bône la belle!_" the french fondly call the antique city. bona of to-day is beautiful as modern cities go, but it is so modern with its _quais_, its promenades, its esplanade, and its pompous hôtel de l'orient, that one loves it for nothing but its past. the _kasba_, the military headquarters on the edge of the town by the shore, piles up skyward in imposing fortress-fashion and is the chief architecturally interesting monument of the town itself. eastward from bona, eighty kilometres or so along the coast, is la calle, another port of antiquity, the tunizia of the romans, and one of the old french trading-posts on the barbary coast. there are few ancient remains at la calle to-day, but it is one of the most interesting of all the algerian coast towns all the same. la calle would be worthy of exploitation as a tourist resort if one could only get to it comfortably as it lies half hidden just to the westward of the bastion de france and hemmed in on the south by the khoumir region. the road from bona to la calle is the worst in algeria, and the light railway is very poor. la calle has become the centre of the world's coral fishery since the italians have worked out their own beds. out of about , europeans, la calle has quite half of its population made up of sunny neapolitans and sicilians, whose chief delight is to dive into deep water and bring up coral, or dig a cutting for a canal or railway. wherever there is a job of this kind on hand, the italian is the man to do it. the town is very ancient, and its name is derived from the word meaning dock, or _cale_, hence it is not difficult to trace its origin back to a great seaport of history. its commerce has been exploited since by marseillais merchants; but in spite of this it is to-day more italian than french. the coral industry is still great, but here, too, the supply is on the wane. it has been fashionable for too long a time, in spite of the traffic in pink celluloid and porcelain, which furnishes most of the "coral" to kitchen maids and _midinettes_. with the falling off of the coral industry, the sardine fishery has developed, and now the little fishes boiled in oil, the universally popular _hors d'oeuvre_, are as likely to have come from the harbour of la calle as the bay of douarnenez. they are not so good as the latter variety (though as a fact the sardine is a mediterranean fish, only caught in northern waters because it migrates there in summer), but they are a good deal better than the nova scotia or norway sardines of commerce, which are not sardines at all. from the coast down into the interior constantine, the cirta of the ancients, looms large in the roll-call of antiquity. after the numidian kings came sittius with the backing of cæsar, and the whole neighbouring region blossomed forth with prosperous and growing cities, mileum (mila), chellu (collo), and rusicade (philippeville). among cirta's famous men was fronton, the preceptor of marcus aurelius. in the latter days of the empire and under byzantine domination, cirta became the capital of a province, as is the constantine of to-day. constantine's roman remains are not many to-day. those of the great bridge across the gorge of the rummel are the principal ones. various antique constructive elements are readily traced, but the present bridge swings out boldly away from the old stone piers, leaving the roman bridge an actual ruin and nothing more. its keystone did not fall until , though probably the actual arch of that time only dated from the century before, as great works of restoration, perhaps indeed of entire reconstruction, were then undertaken by salah-bey. [illustration: so-called tomb of constantine] near constantine, on the road to kroubs, is the absurdly named tomb of constantine, absurdly named because this græco-punic monument could never have been the tomb of constantine from its very constructive details, which so plainly mark its epoch. it is nevertheless a very beautiful structure,--what there is left of it. moreover it is a mausoleum of some sort, though the natives call it simply _souma_ or tower. [illustration] its ground-plan and its silhouette are alike passing strange, though plain and simple to a degree. another tomb in this province which is one of the relics of antiquity (over which archæologists have raved and disputed since they got into competition by expressing their views and printing books about them) is the tomb of médracen or madghasen, on the road from constantine to batna. it is a great cone of wooden-looking blocks of stone, a sort of pyramidal cone, with a broad, flat base. at a distance it looks like a combination of fingal's cave and the pyramid of cheops. supposedly this was a royal mausoleum, the burial-place of médracen. the entrance to this really remarkable monument was discovered in , but only recently has its ground-plan been made public by those secretive antiquarians who sometimes do not choose to give their information broadcast. el bekri, the arab writer of the eleventh century, wrote something about this monument which, being rediscovered in later centuries, led to investigations which unearthed a monument according to the above plan. in the interior of the constantinois, between constantine and biskra, in the midst of that wonderfully fertile plateau of the tell, are three magnificently interesting roman cities, lambessa, timgad, and tebessa. they are only to be reached from batna by diligence, by hired carriage, or by automobile,--if one has one, and cares to take chances on getting through, for of course there are no supplies to be had _en route_. the distance from batna to tebessa--where one is again in touch with the railway, a branch leading to the bona-guelma line at souk-ahras--is about a hundred and eighty kilometres. a placid contemplation of one or all of the cities making up this magnificent collection of roman ruins in the heart of africa will give one emotions that hitherto he knew naught of. batna itself is not a tourist point, though an interesting enough place to observe the native as he mingles with the military and the european civilization. "batna-la-bivouac" the city is called, because of the great military post here. it is not a dead city, but a sleeping one. at its very gates rises the conical tomb of the numidian king, massinissa. just before batna is reached by the railway, coming from el guerrah, is seriana, so known to the arabs, though the french have recently renamed it pasteur, after the illustrious chemist. the site is that of the ancient lamiggiga. a dozen kilometres or more out into the plateau lands to the northwest is zana, the ancient city of diana. here still exist two great triumphal arches, one of a single bay and the other of three, the latter constructed by the emperor macrin in a.d. a temple to diana formerly here has disappeared, but before its emplacement is a great monumental gateway still in a very good state of preservation. there are also vestiges of a byzantine fortress. from batna to lambessa, on the road to timgad, is a dozen kilometres. the ruins of the lambæsis of the romans are of enormous extent, even those so far uncovered to view, and much more remains to be excavated. the third legion of augustus, charged with the defence of north africa, here made their camp in the beginning of the second century of our era, and the outlines of this camp are to-day well defined. of the monumental remains, the prætorium is a vast quadrangular structure in rosy-red stone most imposingly beautiful. the forum is plainly marked, and near by are the baths, with their heating-furnaces yet visible; and the ruined arcades of an amphitheatre crop up through the thin soil in a surprising manner. the eastern and western gateways of this vast military camp are still more than fragmentary in silhouette and outline. [illustration: _lambessa and its ruins_] [illustration: lambese] farther on is a great three-bayed arch built under septimus severus and a pagan temple to esculapius. the capitol, in its ground-plan, and with respect to a great part of its walls, stands proud and magnificent as of yore. it was dedicated to jupiter, juno, and minerva. the ruins of a roman aqueduct lie to the south of the capitol. to the north, a matter of four kilometres or so, is a pyramidal tomb to flavius maximus, prefect of the third augustan legion. close beside all this buried treasure is the great government penitentiary. two thousand turk, jew, and arab thieves and murderers are there shut up; when they want exercise, they are given a pick and shovel and set to work as one of the "outside contingent," digging away the débris of ages from these magnificent roman ruins. this is the sort of criminal labour which doesn't affect competition. the _forçats_ of algeria accomplish some good in life after all. timgad is twenty-five kilometres beyond lambessa, and, though only the site of a ruined roman city, founded under the emperor trajan, has hotel accommodation of a very acceptable, if not luxurious, kind (hotel meille). one should take a guide, once arrived at timgad, to save time, otherwise he may worry it all out with the map herewith. sidi hassin, our guide at timgad, was a man of medium size, young, thin and muscular, with an incipient scraggy beard. he was dressed modestly and even becomingly, for he [illustration: timgad] had not mingled manchester goods with his _haïk_ and burnous woven in some kabyle village. on his head was a little round turban, and his sandals were laced with leather thongs. he was decidedly a home-made product. his compressed visage bespoke energy and intelligence, and a little mocking laugh, a sort of audible smile, was ever on his lips, in strong contrast to the melancholic indifference of the average arab. sidi hassin seemed the right sort of a philosopher and friend for our journey around timgad, so we took him as soon as he offered his services. his recommendation for the job was, in his own words, as follows: "_tu es sous le doigt de dieu et sous le mien! je réponds de toi. tu reviendras sain et sauf._" thamugadi was founded by trajan in the year a.d., the actual labour being the work of the soldiers of the third legion, then encamped at lambessa. thamugadi, a _foyer_ of roman civilization in a still barbarous land, was of great importance and wealth. it lived in security and prosperity until the early part of the sixth century, when it was destroyed by the berbers. more luxuriously disposed even than lambessa, timgad presents the very ideal of a ruined roman city. it had not, perhaps, the wealth of pompeii, and it had not pompeii's wonderful background of vesuvius and the bay of naples, but it was more ample and more splendid in its arrangements than any other ruined roman city left for tourists to marvel at to-day. the french "service des monuments historiques" began excavating timgad's ruins in , and now one is able to locate with accuracy the various civic and military structures. these cover such a large territory that the city must ever take rank as one of the most interesting ruins unearthed to this date. the ground-plan here given explains it all precisely, and the reader is referred to the "guide illustré de timgad," on sale at the hotel meille, for detailed descriptions which cannot be elaborated here. a byzantine fortress, built under justinian in the sixth century, is also here. it was an outpost or defence which guarded the pass through the rock wall of the aures, from the high plateau of numidia to the lybian desert to the south. its thick walls, two metres or more, are still flanked by eight towers. from timgad to kenchela is some seventy kilometres, and is covered by diligence once a day, the journey taking twelve hours and costs ten francs. you pass several _foums_, or springs, and cross several _oueds_ or river-beds on the way, and finally, after a steep climb, you reach kenchela, built upon the site of the ancient mascula, one of the contemporaries of lambæsis and thamugadi. to-day kenchela has nothing for the tourist but its hôtel de france, and its monday market, which like other _indigène_ markets is full of iridescent local colour and life. near by, on the flank of the mountains, were roman baths, known as the aquæ flavianæ, passed by on the road from timgad. two huge pools, one round and the other square, are all that remain to-day. to reach tebessa from kenchela one may take the railway to ain-beïda,--a matter of fifty kilometres. there are no ruins _en route_ except at ksar-baghai, a great byzantine fortress built by justinian. its square donjon and round towers look like those of the feudal strongholds of europe. they are not the least african. from ain-beïda to tebessa is another eighty-eight kilometres of well-laid modern roadway. it is covered by a daily diligence in ten hours, at a cost of fifteen francs. tebessa is a worthy rival of lambessa and timgad. its ruins are many to-day. the most notable ones are caracalla's arch of triumph, a temple of the same epoch (the beginning of the third century of our era), and innumerable finds preserved in the local museum. the great arch is a stupendous and very beautiful work, and the temple worthy to rank with the maison carrée at nîmes, the svelt proportions and marble corinthian columns of which are its chief features. [illustration: tebessa] the present city of tebessa sits in the midst of a vast expanse scattered with roman ruins and surrounded by the still existing byzantine walls built by one salomon, a general of the legion of justinian. these walls have stood for thirteen centuries, restored from time to time, until now, with the coming of the french, the aspect of the modern walled city has the disposition given above. fourteen rectangular towers, including the massive fortress-gate of caracalla, add considerably to the value of the defences. not only at tebessa, but all around for a radius of twenty-five kilometres, the ground is strewn with old roman and byzantine relics; notably at morsott, where has recently been unearthed the site of the ancient theverte of the romans. it is entirely a new discovery, and what great finds may ultimately be brought to light, no one as yet can conjecture. two basilicas have already been brought to the surface, two isolated mausoleums, a vast monumental gateway, a drinking-fountain of astonishing proportions, baths, and many beautiful and practically undefiled mosaics. these ruins are scattered over an area of seven thousand square metres, and, almost without exception, their preservation is in such a condition that, so far as outlines are concerned, one is able to construct anew what must have been a very important centre of roman civilization. this group of neighbouring roman towns and cities of the past, beginning with tebessa and ending with lambessa, form perhaps the most curious and extensive area of roman ruins to be found to-day within a like radius. [illustration: morsott] the first exploration of the ruins of morsott was through the means of the "société archéologique" of constantine, but the french government has stepped in and claimed them for its own and classed them as "monuments historiques," which means that no more will strangers be able to lug away with them as excess baggage a roman capital, to be used as a garden seat at home. this is right and proper, the most passionate collector will admit. chapter xxii tunis and the souks "a travers la douceur de tes jeunes jardins je m'avance vers toi, tunis, ville étrangère. je te vois du haut des gradins de ta colline d'herbe et de palmes légères." by sea one approaches tunis through the canal which runs from la goulette to the _quais_ and docks in the new town of tunis; and one pays the company which exploits the harbour works four francs for the privilege. it's progress if you like, but it's about the most expensive half a dozen miles of travel by water that exists in all the known world. by land one arrives by railway, and is mulcted a similar amount by some red-fezzed, nut-brown arab for pointing out the way to your hotel. the _porteurs_, _portefaix_, and _faccini_ who carry your luggage at tunis are most importunate. if they happen to tumble your trunk overboard, they still strike you for their pay. you say: "_pourquoi vous donnerais-je?_" and the answer is: "_parceque c'est moi qui a perdu votre malle._" moral, travel light. you take your choice, it's only four francs either way. and truly it is worth it, for there is nothing, short of constantinople or cairo, as oriental as old tunis, the tunis of the _souks_, of the mosques, and minarets. the other tunis, that one down by the docks, and the new-made land lying before the arab quarter, is as conventionally twentieth-century as paris or new york. it is very up to date (a sign of prosperity and progress), and that's what the french and native government officials are working for. tunis is the coming land of exploitation, a little corner of the globe as rich in the products of nature, mines and fruits and vegetables, as any other wherever found. the lake of tunis is no longer seething with the variegated commerce of old; things are more prosaic with steam than with sail, but to pass through her sea-gate is to be surrounded by the people of the bible, the arabian nights, and the alhambra of the days of the moors. tunis is the veritable gate of eastern life, of the life of haroun-al-rachid. the european city by the harbour is of to-day. the walled native city is almost unconscious of the existence of modern europe. it is the most interesting tourist resort of north africa, more so than algiers by far, with its _souks_, its proximity to carthage, and its orientalism. tunis is a city of consulates. not all of them have business to transact, but still they are there, the consulates of all nations under the sun. "do you have many of your country people to look after?" the writer interrogated of one accredited from a south american government, a german, by the way, whom he met in a tunis café. he replied: "but there are none of my government's people here; they neither live here, trade here, nor pass through as tourists, as do the english and americans." "what then do you do?" he was asked. "i correspond with my government." "well, why not be frank about it, that is what most consuls and consulates do!" the expatriate who wants help or even information from his government's representative is usually met by some underling, who at once begins edging him toward the door and says guilelessly: "this office has no information on that subject," or, "i really don't know myself; you'll have to see the consul, but just at present...." these receptions are stupefying in their asininity, but they come to pass in most consulates, and those at tunis are no exception. tunis' arab town is less spoilt by the encroachment of outside influences than that of algiers. day or night, it is a wonderful chapter from the "arabian nights" that one lives, as he strolls aimlessly up one narrow, twisting _ruelle_ and down another. here is a great towering minaret of a mosque which seemingly does business at all hours, and there is a synagogue which has saturday for a busy day. the perfume-sellers of the souk des parfums are mohammedans, and intersperse religion with business; the saddle-makers, jewellers, and leather-workers are often jews, and attend strictly to business for six days in the week and shut up shop on saturday, make their necessary devotions quickly and stand around on their door-sills the rest of the day dressed in their holiday clothes. all castes and creeds are here, from the italian chestnut-vendor to the jew old-clo' dealer, and from the desert nomad horse-dealer to the town-bred arab who wears a silk burnous and carries a cane. the _souks_ or bazaars of tunis are the chief delight of the stranger, and certainly no such "shopping" can be done elsewhere as here; no, not even at cairo, for, after all, tunis is "less spoiled" than cairo, though even here the stranger is a fair mark for the arab trader, who augments his price a hundred per cent. you must bargain with the oriental, be he arab, turk, jew, hindu, chinaman, or japanese, and the further east you go, the more the necessity for bargaining. one of the pleasantest features of travel for many, no doubt, is visiting the shops. travellers should, however, exercise judgment and discrimination, and should take a little trouble to ascertain what are the genuine specialties of the place. "_articles de touriste_" should at all times be avoided; nine cases out of ten they are made to sell. at tunis, as at cairo or constantinople, one is painfully at the mercy of his guide, who, if he can, takes him to the large shops, which, as a rule, deal mainly in pseudo-curios, or articles manufactured solely for strangers. these are invariably the shops where the enterprising shopkeepers pay the guides the largest commission. no doubt the farce of solemnly presenting coffee to the purchaser, a custom which the tourist has been told by his guide-book to expect, is effective "playing-up," but the innocent stranger may rest assured that while he is thus literally imbibing the oriental atmosphere, he will pay for it as well in the bill. he may not notice it, but it is there. [illustration: _in the bazaars, tunis_] the most characteristic finds to be had in tunis to-day are the fine old mirrors, made at genoa and florence for wealthy turks and arabs of a hundred or two years ago; _moucharabias_, stolen from some moorish house; the thousand and one decorations of tile and baked clay which are unmistakable as to their genuineness; and good kabyle silver jewelry. there are one or two shops in the european quarter where one can be confident he is getting the real thing, and where they sell it by weight, at two hundred francs a kilo. in another category, more or less tawdry to be sure, but ever fascinating to the stranger, are such things as stuffed lizards, gazelles' horns and skins, panther and jackal skins, curious engraved boxes covered with camel-skin, negro tom-toms, castanets, amulets, and pottery, arab knives, daggers and muskets, morocco slippers, saddle-bags and purses, touareg weapons and leather goods, ostrich eggs and feathers, copper bowls and ornaments. perhaps the above suggestions will seem prosaic and matter-of-fact to the sentimental traveller, to whom the very word bazaar offers a suggestion of romantic adventure, to say nothing of the possibility of real "discoveries." but in places of tourist resort bargaining is no longer conducted after the stately fashion of the "arabian nights," when the purchase of a brass tray or an embroidered saddle-cloth was a solemn treaty, and the bargain for a lamp a diplomatic event, not to be lightly undertaken or hurriedly concluded. to-day it is simply a businesslike transaction in which the golden rule plays a no more prominent part than it does in chicago's wheat-pit. there is the coffee-drinking left, to be sure, but that is only part of the game. the foreign element has made astonishing inroads into the trade of tunis, and the italian, the greek, the maltese, and the jew are everywhere working at everything. the jew, more than any other race, has made the greatest progress, as the following tale, or legend, if it be not entirely a veracious tale, will show. a jew of tunis a couple of centuries ago commissioned a french merchant to order for him a cargo of black hats, green shawls and red silk stockings. when, however, the goods arrived, the jew repudiated the order. haled before the bey, who in those days administered justice himself, the jew denied not only the order, but also all knowledge of the french merchant. "where are your witnesses?" asked the bey of the frenchman. "i have none, sire," he replied, "not even a line of writing. the order was given me verbally by the jew." "then," decided the bey, "as it is only oath against oath, i cannot pronounce judgment in your favour." the frenchman walked sadly away, knowing that this meant to him absolute ruin. hardly had he reached his home, when he was amazed and alarmed by a great tumult in the streets. hurrying out to ascertain its cause, he found a vast crowd, mostly jews, following one of the beylical _entourage_, who was making the following proclamation: "every jew who, within twenty-four hours after the issue of this proclamation, shall be found in any street of tunis without a black beaver hat on his head, a green shawl round his shoulders, and silk stockings on his legs, shall be forthwith seized and conveyed to the first court of our palace, where he will be publicly flogged to death." within an hour the french merchant's shop was besieged by jews eager to pay him any price he chose to ask for his derelict cargo of black hats, green shawls and red silk stockings. if the foregoing tale proves anything, it proves hatred of the jews and love for the french, and if that state of affairs does not exist to its fullest extent in tunis to-day, every competent observer can but remark that the tunisian, be he jew or berber, under combined french and beylical rule is very well cared for indeed. the life of tunis is, as might be supposed, very mixed. a tunisian arab will sometimes marry a european, though not often; but never a jewess. there is a tale of a certain arab shopkeeper of the souk d'etoffes who married a stranger from overseas. how the tryst was carried on is not stated, but married they were, and of course everybody was shocked; not because it was everybody's business, but because it was nobody's business. "does she really love him?" asked the ladies around the tea-tables at the tunisia palace hotel when the tale was recounted. "well, they look happy," said the discoverer of the _ménage_, "and joy lasts seven days, or seven years, they say." "it makes me just sick," said a new-made bride, doing her honeymoon in the mediterranean. "how long has she been married?" asked another; this time a spinster. "oh, about two years, and they tell me she gets thinner and thinner each year. it's the case of oil and water,--the east and the west,--they can't mix." this was only gossip, of course, but it was a sign of the times. the population of tunis is the most interesting of all nations under the sun, particularly of a spring or autumn evening as it sits on the broad terrace of one of the boulevard cafés, well dressed and gay, and the arab the gayest of them all. the arab of tunis, when he arrives to a certain distinction, dresses in robes of silk, and silk stockings, too, which he holds up over his bare calves with a "boston garter," or a very good imitation thereof. certainly an arab whose burnous, _haïk_, _gandurah_, _caftan_, socks, and garters are silk must be a "personage." a curious thing to be remarked in the cafés of tunis is the avidity with which the exiled french population devours the paris papers upon the arrival of the mail-boat. another curious thing is the fact that the newsboys sell them in twos and threes; there not being a mail every day, they arrive in bunches of two, three, and sometimes four. one glances at the last one first, but reads it last, at least most people do it that way. it's human nature. throughout tunis' arab quarter the wide-spread hand of fatmah as a sign of good luck is seen everywhere. it may be stencilled on some shop window, painted over the chimney in a moorish café, or even stained upon the flank of a horse or donkey. the _main de fatmah_ is the "good-luck" charm of the arab, and, as a souvenir to be carried away by the stranger, in the form of a bangle or watch-charm, is about the most satisfactory and characteristic thing that can be had. after the _souks_, the palaces and mosques are of chief interest to the traveller. one may not enter the mosques--the french authorities hold the temple of the mussulman's god inviolate; but the dar el bey and the bardo, the chief administrative buildings of the native government, may be checked off the indefatigable tourist's list of "things to see;" as have been bunker hill monument, the paris morgue, and ellen terry's cottage at winchelsea, for presumably these have been "done" first. such is the craze for seeing sights without knowing what they all mean. "is it old?" "does the king, prince, bey, or sultan really live there?" "and are the blood-spots real?" are fair representatives of [illustration] the class of information which most conventional tourists demand. the great gates of the inner arab city of tunis are most fascinating, with their swarming hordes of passers-by and their grim battlemented walls and towers. the new boulevarded streets circle the old town, and an electric tramway runs in either direction from the port de france back again to the port de france. outside, all is twentieth-century; within, all is a couple of hundred years behind the times at least. high up above all, behind the dar el bey and overlooking the roof-tops of the _souks_ and the town below, is the kasba and the quaintly decorated minaret of its mosque, the oldest in tunis, and quite the finest of all the decorative minarets of the world of islam. other mosque minarets at tunis are svelt and beautiful, dainty and more or less ornate, but they lack the massive luxuriance of that of the kasba, which was the work, be it recalled, of italian infidels, not of mussulman faithful. within the charmed circle of the outer boulevards tunis' arab town has an appearance as archaic as one may expect to find in these progressive days. veiled women are everywhere, and turbaned; high-coiffed, fat, wobbly jewesses, and sicilians and maltese with poignards in their belts. it's a mixed crew indeed that makes up the life and movement of tunis. this impression is heightened still further when you see the bey drive by in state in a dingy carriage drawn by six black, silver-harnessed mules, the outriders yelling, "_arri! arri! arri!_" like the donkey-boys of the more plebeian world. this sight is followed in the twinkling of an eye by a caravan of camels and nomads of the desert; then perhaps a couple of gaily painted sicilian carts; an automobile of a very early vintage; another more modern (the _dernier cri_, in fact), and finally a troop of little _bourriquets_, grain-laden, making their way westward into the open country. this moving panorama, or another as varied, will pass you inside half an hour as you sit on the terrace of the café opposite the residency. at bab souika, just without the arab town, and passed by the tram _en route_ for the kasba, is the centre of the popular animation of native life. in the halfaouine quarter are the moorish cafés, at bab djedid still another aspect of arab loafing and idling, and all of it picturesque to the extreme. the jewish dancers of the cafés of the place sidi-baian are recommended as "sights to be seen" by baedeker and jouanne. these dancers have eyes like _merlans frits_, and the _ventre doré_, and are of the same variety that one has become accustomed to on the "midway" and the "pike," and in the "streets of cairo," which have made the rounds of recent expositions. they are no better nor no worse. the only difference is that here at biskra, at constantine, and at tunis one sees things on their native heath. [illustration: dancing girls _at_ tunis b. mcm. ] everything in the way of a ceremonial at tunis centres around the bey and the resident-general. the bey gives a function at the bardo or at his palace at la marsa, and the governor-general attends. the resident-general has a reception at the residency, and the bey drives up behind his six black mules, and, with the first interpreter of his palace, goes in and pays his respects to the representative of republican france, the real ruler of the "régence." "bon jour"--"au revoir," is about the extent of the conversation expected at such functions, and with these simple words said, the ceremony is over. but it is impressive while it lasts, with much gold lace, much bowing and scraping, much music and much helter-skeltering of the entourage here, there, and everywhere. republican france still holds out for ceremony, and the president's "chasse nationale" each year at rambouillet is still reminiscent of "la chasse royale" of other days. not so our bear-hunts in louisiana cane-breaks. the bey of tunis is still the titular head of his people and their religion, but the hand that rules the destiny of his régence is that of the representative of the french republic. chapter xxiii in the shadow of the mosque old tunis fortunately remains old tunis. it has not been spoiled, as has algiers, in a way. its crooked streets and culs-de-sac are still as they were when pachas kept their harems well filled as a matter of right, and not by the toleration of the french government. surrounding the vast spider's web of narrow streets of old tunis is a circling line of tramway, within which is as oriental an aspect as that of old (save the electric lights and the american sewing-machines, which are everywhere). without this magic circle, all bustles with the cosmopolitan clamour which we fondly designate twentieth-century progress and profess to like: automobiles, phonographs, type-writing machines, railway trains, great hotels, cafés and restaurants, always the same wherever found. there is quite as much life and movement in the _souks_ of the old town of tunis as on the boulevards of the european quarter, and it is quite as feverish, but with a difference. the perfume-makers of the souk des parfums still pound their leaves and blossoms by hand in a mortar, and the saddle and shoe makers still stitch and embroider by hand the gold-threaded arabesques of their ancestors. you can get all the products of the _souks_, of the made-in-belgium variety, which look quite like the real thing, but in fact are but base "dutch metal," unworthy of arab, turk, or jew, and only fit for strangers. here in the _souks_ you must know how to "shop." in tunis, more than in any other city along the mediterranean, one must know how to sift the dross from the fine metal, and only too frequently the dealer himself will not give you the frank counsel that you need. just off the _souk des grains_ is the "street of the pearls." in this romantically named thoroughfare, and huddled close beneath the squat, mushroom domes of the mosque of sidi-mahrez is a great brass-studded and bolted doorway, closing an entrance between two svelt marble columns, stolen from carthage long ago by some unscrupulous turk or arab. above is a great moorish horseshoe arch. this is the sole entrance to a magnificent, typical oriental establishment, built three hundred years since by some turkish pacha fled from constantinople for political reasons and his country's good. not long since the proprietor of this fine old house was "sold out." he wasn't exactly a "poor miserable," but the establishment he was keeping up was not in keeping with the lining of his purse. he was not as his forefathers, who, if they toiled not nor yet did spin, had the good luck to gather riches by some means or other while they lived. whilst he, on a scant patrimony to which nothing was being added, was going the pace a little too fast. his creditors called in the bailiff, and the bailiff called in the auctioneer, and the "_bel immeuble_," a "_vaste bâtiment mètres carrés, avec cour, fontaine et plusieures pièces au rez-de-chaussée, et balcon_," was put up at auction. there were no takers, it appeared,--at the price. the "knock-down" was thirty thousand francs, and it was worth it, the finest house in the oriental quarter of tunis, high and dry and built of marble and tile, and safe-guarded by the _pigeons de bonheur_, which lodged on the great central dome of the mosque which overhung the roof-top terrace. french and italians, and strangers of all nationalities (including some affected mussulmans as well), were piling themselves story upon story in great apartment houses in the flat, monotonous new town below, laid out on what a quarter of a century ago was a reedy marsh. not one of them would consider for a moment the question of taking on this fine establishment for a dwelling all his own. they all had their summer-houses out at carthage, where they were spoiling the landscape, as well as that magnificent historic site, by erecting villas of questionable taste. for their town dwellings these ambitious folk were one and all bent on living in a flat. it was in this manner that this fine example of oriental domicile fell to our friend, the attaché of the embassy. he, at least, knew a good thing when he saw it, and, though he was a bachelor (and never for a moment thought of setting up a harem in the vast _zenana_ at the rear), he relished with good will the delights of dwelling in marble halls of his own,--particularly such splendid ones. it was a problem as to what our friend should do, on account of the great size of the many apartments of this moorish-arab house; but like the japanese and the moors themselves, he did not make the mistake of filling them with trumpery bric-à-brac and saddle-bag furniture. it was more or less a great undertaking for a young man to whom housekeeping had hitherto been an unknown accomplishment,--this taking of a great house to live in all alone. for days and weeks, as occasion offered, he stalked its marble halls and pictured the "arabian nights" over again, and hazarded many soft and sentimental imaginings as to the personalities of the veiled beauties who once made it their home. our friend's first possession was a servant, of the indefinable species called simply a "man servant;" he at any rate could keep the marbles white and the tiles burnished, and the dust from out the crevices of the carved stone vaultings, if there was nothing else to do. the serving man was readily enough found. he bore the name of habib, the algerian, at least that was the translation that he gave in french of its queer arab characters, though his explanation as to how he came to descend from parents who were born in kairouan, the holy city of tunisia, and still have the suffix of "_the algerian_" tacked on at the end, was not very lucid. habib was gentle and faithful, but vain and superstitious. to begin with, he was perfectly willing to become a part and parcel of the _ménage_; but he must take rank as a body-servant (whatever his duties might be), and would not be a mere caretaker or a concierge. for that m'sieu rené must have a moroccan, the _chiens fidèles_ of north african concierges, or he must go without. sleep in the house habib would not; the spirits of past dwellers--some of them perhaps wraiths of folk who had been murdered--would rise up in the dark hours and prevent that; of that he was sure. stranger infidels might not believe in spooks and spirits, but it was a part of habib's faith that he should not put himself in a position where they might destroy his rest. nothing of the kind had ever happened to him up to now, but the fear was always present, and he was minded to take all possible precautions. habib ultimately capitulated, and came to "sleeping in." he made his plans stealthily for taking up his residence under the shadow of the mosque. though habib's belongings were few, his preparations for moving in were elaborate and lengthy. habib had not much more than the clothes on his back,--and a silver-headed cane, without which he never walked the streets of the european quarter, day or night. "in the arab town you were safe," he said, "but '_là-bas_,' with all the civilized and cosmopolitan riffraff of a great mediterranean seaport, one's life was not worth a piastre without a weapon of defence." you must have a license to carry a revolver in tunis, a permission which the authorities do not readily grant to an arab; and anyway habib was afraid of firearms (he was afraid of most everything, as it appeared later, even work), so he resorted to a cane. with habib's clothes on his back, and his cane, arrived a little plush pillow about the size of a pincushion. this was to be his protection against the real, or fancied, evil spirits which he still believed were lurking away between the walls, as indeed they probably had been for centuries. this little plush cushion had been deftly fashioned for him, doubtless, by some veiled fatmah or zorah. it may have honestly been thought by its maker, and of course by habib, to be an effective antidote for the wiles of roving spirits, but certainly no one would ever attribute to it the least virtues as a pillow. the japanese wooden head-rest were preferable to habib's spirit-charmer for wooing morpheus. habib at last had taken the fatal step, he had become a part and parcel of the establishment. to be sure he had not much to do; the new patron, being alone, had furnished only a part of the chambers, apartments, and salons in semi-european fashion, and habib's chief duties consisted only in "turning them out" in succession, on consecutive days, and putting them in order again. there is not a great quantity of grime and dirt that ever penetrates beyond the courtyard of an arab house, and the actual labour of keeping it clean would please the indolent mind of the laziest "maid of all work" that ever lived. habib handled the situation as well as might be expected--for a time. afterwards he fell off a bit. he was faithful, obliging, smiling and sentimental, but he still slept bad o' nights, or said he did. the powers of his pincushion pillow were evidently negative or neutral so far as the particular spirits which lodged here were concerned. with his new station in life habib came to an increased importance, and from a loose white cotton robe or burnous, he came to be the proud possessor of a flowing creation in crimson silk which was the envy of all his acquaintances. beneath it he wore a yellow embroidered vest, red silk stockings, and yellow boots of morocco leather, not really boots, nor yet shoes, but a sort of a cross between a shoe and a moccasin, which cost him the extravagant sum of twenty francs, half a month's pay. on his head was perched the conventional red tunisian fez, with an inordinately long tassel dangling down behind, as effective a _chasse-mouches_ as one would want. this was not all. a dollar watch, with a silver-gilt chain and fob of quaint kabyle workmanship,--worth probably twenty times the value of the watch,--completed his personal adornment. as an accessory, habib became the proud possessor of a visiting-card, which, more than all else, was successful in impressing his confrères and the neighbouring shopkeepers with his importance. they imagined him, doubtless, a sort of seneschal or majordomo of some kingdom in little. habib bore his honours lightly and gaily. there was not much fault to be found with him, simply from the fact that he had so little to do that he would be a numskull indeed if he could not, or would not, perform it well. he did perform his duties well, ordinarily, but the first time a good round day's work fell to his share, such as cleaning down the walls and mopping up the whole area of marbled floor, he rendered an account for the services of "_quatre juifs, quarante sous_." forty cents for the services of four house-cleaners for a day is not dear, and habib was not even of the same faith as his workmen, so the _châtelain_ paid it gracefully in the next week's account which habib rendered. [illustration: _habib's visiting card_] habib's bookkeeping was as original as himself. his accounts for the house-cleaning week read as follows: quatre juifs fcs. lait en boite (pour le matou) gâteau de miel (pour la gazelle) centimes divers (tortue, etc.) ------------------- totaux à payer de suite fcs. centimes how he made both ends meet with the sum total of his modest budget was ever a problem with our friend. the city-bred arab has the reputation of being unreliable in money matters, but certainly the hidden graft lying dormant in four francs eighty centimes can not be very great after paying two francs for four jews, a franc for condensed milk for the cat, sixty centimes for honey-cakes for the gazelle, and a franc twenty centimes for sundry and diverse odds and ends like soap, metal-polish, barley for the turtle, etc. habib was certainly a good thing! habib's chief pride in the house and its belongings was for the cat, the gazelle, and the turtle, each of them gifts from the same amiable youth. perhaps he had no place to keep them himself, and in this he saw an opportunity of getting them housed and fed free. habib may have been wiser than he looked, but at any rate here the menagerie came to be installed as proper and picturesque occupants of this marble palace of other days. the cat is a useful and even necessary animal in any home, and its virtues have often been praised. a gazelle is purely decorative, but as agreeable and affectionate a little beast as ever lived. the turtle catches flies and lives in a pool of the fountain, and is also useful in keeping down microbes which might otherwise be disseminated. this array of live stock ought to be an adjunct of every house with a fountain courtyard, and if it can be had on the terms as supplied by the faithful habib, not forgetting the small cost of the animals' keep, why so much the better. the particular quarter where our friend's house was situated was indeed the most quaintly variegated one in all tunis. at bab-souika one turned sharply and entered a veritable labyrinth of narrow, twisting streets, never arriving at the great gate of the house by the same itinerary. sometimes you arrived directly, and sometimes you circled and tacked like a ship at sea. from the place bab-souika itself, whence radiated a burning fever of the arab life of all the ten tribes, it was but the proverbial stone's throw, by a bird's-eye view from the roof-top terrace, though by the twisting lanes and alleys it was perhaps a kilometre. there was an occultism and orientalism here that was to be seen nowhere else in north africa, and for "mystery" it beat that of the desert, over which poets and novelists rave, all to pieces. no one but an arab and a mussulman could ever be a part of that wonderful kaleidoscopic chapter of life. we poor dogs of infidels can only stand by and wonder. all night long the place bab-souika was as animated as in the day. it was fringed with many moorish cafés, interspersed with the _échoppes_ of the tunisian jews, who push in everywhere, and make a living off of pickings that others think too trivial for their talents. a few boulevard-like trees flank a group of transformed and remodelled arab houses and give a suspicion of modernity, but the general aspect throughout is oriental and mediæval. a regular ant-hill of hiving humanity: moors, arabs, turks, jews, soudanese, and touaregs, all with costumes as varied as their origins. here a creamy-white burnous jostles with a baggy blue _pantalon_, and the cowled nodding head of a bedouin rests on the shoulder of an equally somnolent red-fezzed soldier of the bey. the more wide-awake members of the hangers-on of the cafés enliven the scene with singing and even dancing, perhaps with some tunisian dancing-girl as a partner. all is gay and scintillating as if it were the most gorgeous café of the boulevard des italiens. one and all of the merrymakers are richly costumed, with broidered vests and flowing robes of silk, and clattering silver ornaments and bouquets of flowers,--or a single flower stuck behind the ear, like the spaniard's cigarette. all blends into a wonderful fanfare of colour, and it was through this stage-setting our friend had to pass every night as he made his way from the european town below to his arab house on the height. the oriental, when he is making merry at a café, is wholly indifferent to the affairs of the workaday world, if he ever did occupy himself therewith. his point of view is peculiarly his own; we outsiders will never appreciate it, study the question as we may. besides the moorish cafés, the fruit and sweetmeat sellers seem also to do as large a midnight traffic as that of the day. the after-theatre supper of the arab, if he were given to that sort of thing, would not be difficult of consummation here. the arab old-clo' dealer is another habitué of the neighbourhood. "_t'meniach! ra sourdis! t'meniach 'ra t'meniach!_" this is the arab's old clothes cry. and for a hundred sous, paid over on the place bab-souika, you can be transformed into a bedouin from head to heel,--with a ragged burnous full of holes and a pair of very-much-down-at-the-heel _babouches_ which have already trod off untold kilometres on the tunisian highway and are good for many more. there is another class of ambulant merchant who is a frequenter of this most animated of tunis' native quarter. he deals in a better line of goods, in that his wares are new and not second-hand, though tawdry enough, many of them. if you wish you may buy--after appropriate and not to be avoided bargaining, at which you will probably come off second best--a collaret of false sequins, an arab blanket, or a turkish ink-pot, which may not be old in spite of its looks. all these things are made to order to-day, after the ancient models and styles, like the cotton goods of india with palm-leaf designs, which are mostly made in manchester. "_veux-tu un foulard, sidi, un beau foulard de tounis? vois achète-moi ce poignard kabyle! tiens, veux-tu ce bracelet pour madame?_" you want none of these things, but you make out as if you did and accordingly you buy "something" before you are through, guiltily thinking you have taken advantage of the poor fellow in that you beat him down from fifteen francs to five for a foulard which cost him, probably, not more than thirty sous of some israelite "_fournisseur_" in the _souks_. one day habib the algerian would work no more. he had succumbed to a bad case of the wandering foot, though what brought it about, save the ennui of his position,--not enough work to do--our friend rené never knew. it was doubtful if habib knew himself. it was as if the termination of habib's name had set him to thinking. habib the algerian! why should he not travel a bit, as did these dogs of christians who were overrunning his beloved land, to algeria even, he who bore the name of the algerian, though he had lived since his infancy beneath the shadow of tunis' mosques. "_où vas-tu?_" asked his employer, as habib's bag and baggage were on the door-sill, a parcel of worldly goods now grown to some proportions, including a nickel alarm-clock, a phonograph, and an oil-stove. american products all of them. "_moi? en algérie!_" answered habib in jerky, limpid french. "_et pourquoi?_" "_pourquoi? pour rien. pour aller. chimin-di-fi andar plus vite que chevil. hou! hou! hou!_" he continued, attempting to imitate the wheezy locomotives of the bôna-guelma line, which link tunisia with algeria, his eyes meanwhile expressing the joy of an infant. the travel fever was on with habib; it had struck in, even as it had before now with some of the rest of us. that was the last that was seen or heard of habib the algerian, except that we caught a glimpse of him at the railway station as he was pushing insistently into a third-class carriage already full to overflowing with other wandering, huddling arabs, who, too, thought with habib that the "_chimin-di-fi andar plus vite que li chivil. hou! hou! hou!_" this was probably but the beginning of another chapter of habib's history; but now that he was gone he had passed from mind. but he had left the gazelle, the cat, the goldfish and the turtle behind. it was as if a part of the old house itself had been wrenched away. habib had become a part and parcel of the whole machine, and in spite of his shortcomings he fitted in with things in a marvellously competent manner. no other soft-footed arab could quite take his place, and many were tried. the cat ate the goldfish, the turtle mysteriously disappeared up or down a spout, and the gazelle died of a broken heart, or because of the irregularity of the supply of honey-cakes. with such sad memories our friend rené had to desert his "_maison arabe_," where he had lived so comfortably, and go and live in a flat in the new town below, where the view from the windows was comprised principally of a _kiosque_ of the paris boulevard variety, a row of taximètre cabs, and the seven-story façade of another apartment house on the other side of the street. there is a fine old arab house at tunis, midway between the "residency" and the kasba, still for rent, if any there be who think they would care to undertake the struggle of keeping it running in proper order. it has many things in its favour, and some which are manifestly against it, the chief of these last being the difficulty of solving the servant question. it is the same question which ruffles householders the world over, in tunis as in toledo, in kairouan as in kalamazoo. chapter xxiv the glory that once was carthage carthage, redolent of the memories of dido, of Æneas, of hannibal, of cato, of scipio, and a thousand other classic souvenirs of history, is the chief sight for tourists in the neighbourhood of tunis. all we have learned to expect is there, deformed ruins and relics of a grandeur long since past. the aqueduct which plays so grand a rôle in the opera of "salambo" is there, but it is manifestly roman and not punic. thus did flaubert nod, as indeed did homer before him. carthage, as carthage is to-day, is not much. it is but a vast, conglomerate mass of fragmentary ruins, a circus whose outlines can scarcely be traced, a very much ruined amphitheatre, various ground-plans of great villas of other days, the cisterns of the romans, some punic tombs, and the two ports of carthage around which history, romance and legend have woven many tales. the rest is modern, the great basilica of st. louis, the palaces of the bey, and the princes of his family, the villas of the foreign consuls, the seminary of the white fathers and a hotel or two. that is carthage to-day. thus the history and romance of a past day must supply the motive for the visitors' emotions, for there is little else save the magnificent site and the knowledge that one is treading historic ground. the tract might well have been made a sort of national park, and kept inviolate; but it has been given over to the land exploiter like tottenham park and south new york, and the overflow from tunis is already preëmpting choice plots. through the gates of the venice of antiquity, all the wealth of the east was brought to be stored in the warehouses of the ports of carthage, but to-day all this is only an historic memory. the palaces and warehouses have disappeared, and the two mud-puddle "ports" have silted up into circular pools which glisten in the african sunlight like mirrors of antiquity,--which is exactly what they are. carthage, or what is left of it, is a dozen or fifteen kilometres from tunis, by a puffing little steam-tram (to be supplanted some day by an electric railway, which will be even less in keeping). [illustration: _the ports of carthage_] one gets off at la malga, and, in a round of half a dozen kilometres "does" carthage, sidi-bou-saïd, and la marsa in the conventional manner in half a day. if he, or she, is an artist or an archæologist, he, or she, spends a day, a week, or a month, and then will have cause to return if opportunity offers. according to tradition the tyrians founded carthage in b.c., being conducted thither by elissa, a progressive young woman, the sister of pygmalion. _cart-hadchat_ was its original name, which the romans evolved into _carthago_, signifying "the new city," that is to say, probably, the "_new tyre_." owing to its proximity to sicily, to all the vast wealth of africa, and the undeveloped and unexplored shores of the western mediterranean, carthage was bound to prosper. as tyre fell into decadence, and the greeks menaced the phoenicians in the east, carthage came to its own very rapidly, not by a mushroom growth, as with new-made cities of to-day, but still rapidly for its epoch. the riches of the people of carthage became immense, every one prospered, and its merchants trafficked with the soudan and sailed the seas to britain, while hanno, the carthaginian admiral, first discovered and explored the full extent of the west african atlantic coast. in the first punic war carthage disputed the ownership of sicily with rome, but without success; though indeed she was able to hold the gateway of the western mediterranean, and thus remain mistress of the trade with the outside world. with the second punic war carthage lost further prestige, and her military and maritime strength was reduced to such an extent that her hitherto vast african empire was restricted to the city itself and a closely bounding suburban area. even then carthage ranked as the richest city in the world, with a population of , souls. in the year b.c. the romans rose again and gave carthage a sweeping knock-out blow so far as its independence went. cæsar and augustus came, and the city, peopled anew, was restored to something resembling its former magnificent lines and made the capital of the roman african province. a commercial city, wealthy, luxurious, gay, and cultivated, it became, next to rome, the first latin city of the occident. christianity was introduced in the early centuries, and through the gateway of carthage was spread over all north africa. religious partisanship was as rife and violent here as elsewhere, and tertullian tells how, in the great circus amphitheatre, whose scantly outlined ruins are still to be seen as one leaves the railway at la malga, saint perpétua and her companions were put to death by ferocious beasts, and how, in a.d., saint cyprien, who was bishop at the time, was martyred. the vandals captured the city in a.d., and the byzantine powers under justinian's general, belisarius, got it all back again in a.d., though they held it but a hundred and sixty years. the city finally succumbed, in the seventh century, to hassan-ben-nomane, who destroyed it completely. how completely this destruction was one may judge by a contemplation of the ruins to-day. the tunisians and the italians have used the site as a quarry for centuries, and pisa's cathedral was constructed in no small part from marbles and stone from glorious carthage. dido, hannibal, and salambo have passed away, and with them the glory of carthage. to-day tourists come and go, the "white fathers" exploit their vineyards, and the promoters sell land in this new subdivision to the profit, the great profit--of some one. the punic remains at carthage, the tombs and other minor constructions, are of course few (the musée lavigerie on the height now guarding all the discoveries of value). but the fragments of the great civic buildings of the romans are everywhere scattered about. these ruins cannot even be detailed here, and the plan herewith will serve as a much better guide than a mere perfunctory catalogue. various erudite historical accounts and guide-books have been written concerning this historic ground; shorter works, of more interest to the tourist, can be had in the tunis book-shops. the discoveries of the last ten years on the site of the ancient carthage have been many and momentous. they are of intense interest, revealing a people who possessed a far higher development than had been supposed, and who were, contrary to the general belief in modern times, something more than mere traffickers and merchants, and who evolved an art of their own, a unique and fascinating blend of the ideals of the semitic and the greek. our knowledge of the phoenicians is still [illustration: carthage] shadowy and fragmentary; but the work conducted by the "white fathers" of carthage, under the direction of père delattre, has provided at least a foundation for further researches and comparisons, which no doubt will soon be undertaken. the recent discoveries of carthage may well be described as fascinating. take for example the sarcophagus of a phoenician priestess unearthed in . it is believed that she lived in the third century b.c. the coloured marble sarcophagus is of the best period of greek workmanship. a greek carved this tomb, no doubt, but in the representation of the priestess we have a figure of a type unlike any greek art known,--a type of beauty delightfully strange, a countenance of a noble loveliness and charm. a sympathetic french _archéologue_ puts it in the following words: "the brilliancy of colour and strangeness of attire, far from detracting from the dignity of her presence, seem to enhance the noble simplicity and reserve suggested by the figure. a rare and lovely personality seems to have been the inspiration of the sculptor. she was not a greek, nor an egyptian, and the semitic features are hardly recognizable. the dove in the figure's right hand may well be taken as a symbol of her own gentle beauty and sweetness. surely this is a pure type of phoenician womanhood. that majestic calm which is the outward and visible sign of the highest courage within comports well with the reputation of the women of carthage, and their bearing in that terrible siege which tried them unto death." this is the sort of sentiment which still hovers over carthage; but to sense it to the full, one must know the city's history in detail, and not merely by a hurried half a day round, out from tunis and back between breakfast and dinner. another recent find is the unearthed roman palace built up over an old punic burial-place. luxurious, though of diminutive proportions, this palace, or villa, possesses a pavement in mosaic worthy to rank with that classic example of the villa hadrian at tivoli. it may be seen to-day at the musée, and is one of the things to be noted down by even the hurried traveller. _en route_ from tunis to bizerta, thirty-five kilometres from the former city and about the same from carthage, is the ancient utica, founded by the phoenicians centuries before the beginning of the christian era, and which, after the destruction of carthage, became the first city of africa. [illustration: _ancient utica_] to-day the domain of bou-chateur, belonging to a m. chabannes, contains all that remains above ground of this vassal city of carthage. once a seaport of importance, like carthage, it gradually succumbed to a sort of dry rot and is no more. the remains existing to-day are extensive, but very fragmentary. only bare outlines are here and there visible; but from them some one has been able to construct a plan of the city on something approaching its former lines. immediately neighbouring upon carthage is sidi-bou-saïd, easily the most picturesque village around tunis, if one excepts the low-lying fishing village of la goulette, better known by its italian name of la goletta. la goulette itself played an important rôle in the sixteenth century. charles v occupied it in , and it became a fortified stronghold of the spanish; but in spite of the fact that it was further fortified by don juan of austria, after the battle of lepanto, it was captured by the turks under sinan-pacha the following year after a memorable siege. for the devout, la goulette is of great interest from the fact that saint vincent de paul was a captive here in the seventeenth century. the little _indigène_ village of sidi-bou-saïd sits on the promontory called cap carthage and has a local colour all its own. it is purely "native," the land agent not yet having marked it for his own. the panorama of the snow-white walls and domes and turrets of the little town, the red-rock base on which it sits, the blue sea offshore, and the blue sky overhead, is a wonderful sight to the person of artistic tastes. certainly its like is not in africa, if elsewhere along the shores of the mediterranean. beyond sidi-bou-saïd is la marsa, without character or history, save that the bey's summer palace and the country residences of the foreign consuls are here. the site is delightful and looks seaward in most winning fashion. on the hillsides round about is grown the grape from which is made the celebrated "_vin blanc de carthage_," as much an accompaniment of the shrimps of the lac de tunis as is the "vin de cassis" of _bouillabaisse_, or chablis of oysters. in the neighbourhood are numerous caves, forming the ancient jewish necropolis of carthage under roman domination. due north from tunis a matter of nearly a hundred kilometres is bizerta, now a french mediterranean naval base as formidable, or at any rate as useful, as gibraltar. it was the hippo-diarrhytus of the ancients, whose inhabitants were at continual warfare with those of carthage. under the empire it was a roman colony, and in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries became one of the refuges of the moors expelled from spain. the french occupation has made of bizerta and its lake a highly active and prosperous neighbourhood, where formerly a scant population of the mixed mediterranean races gave it only the dignity of a fishing village. it is very picturesque, its waterside, its canals, and its _quais_, but the primitiveness of other days is giving way before the moves in the game of peace and war, until everywhere one hears the bustle and groan of ships and shipping, and sees clouds of smoke piling up into the cloudless sky from the gaping chimneys of machine-shops on shore and torpedo boats and battle-ships on the water. it is old bizerta rubbing shoulders with new bizerta at every step. bizerta is now the most important strategic point in the mediterranean. gibraltar is covered by the spanish fortifications at algeçiras and ceuta, and malta is merely a rock-bound fortress that could be starved out in a month. the mediterranean is french,--a french lake if you will,--as it always has been, and as it always will be. tripoli in barbary and morocco, when they come under the french flag, as they are bound to do, will only accentuate the fact. chapter xxv the barbary coast the real barbary coast of the romantic days of the corsairs was the whole north african littoral. here the pirates and corsairs had their lairs, their inlet harbours known only to themselves and their _confrères_, who as often pillaged and murdered among themselves as they did among strangers. to-day all this is changed. it was the government of the united states and decatur, as much as any other outside power, who drove the barbary pirates from the seas. under the reign of louis xiv duquesne was charged to suppress the piracies of the tripolitan coasts. the celebrated admiral--it was he who also gave the original name to the site of the present city of pittsburgh on the monongahela--got down to business once the orders were given, sighted eight of the barbary feluccas and gave them chase. they took refuge in the sultan's own port of chio, but, with the french close on their heels, they were captured forthwith, and the pacha of tripoli was forced without more ado to make a treaty containing many onerous conditions. the corsairs gave back a ship which they had taken, and all the french who had fallen prisoners in their hands and who were virtually held in slavery. the admirals of those days had a way of doing things. after the french came the english. blake, the british admiral, who never trod the deck of a vessel until he was fifty, did his part to sweep these fierce mediterranean pirates of algeria, tunisia, and tripoli from the seas. the united states navy did the rest. this is history; let those who are further interested look it up. the north african coast-line from tunis to tangier has the aspect of much of the rest of the mediterranean littoral, but that strip sweeping around from cap carthage to tripoli in barbary, the shores of the great tripolitan gulf, may still furnish the setting for as fierce a piratical tale as can be conceived,--only the pirates are wanting. this low-lying ground south of tunis is not a tourist-beaten ground; it is almost unknown and unexplored to the majority of winter travellers, who include only algiers, biskra, and tunis in their african itinerary. south from tunis, the first place of importance is hammamet, an embryotic watering-place for the tunisians, called by the natives "the city of pigeons." [illustration: _the sud-tunisien_] this up-and-coming station on the route which binds "numidia" with "africa" is possessed of a remarkable source of fresh-water supply. the romans in ancient times exploited this same source, and built a monumental arcade on the site. all vestiges of this architectural work have however disappeared. at nabeul, a few kilometres away, one gets a curious glimpse of native life interspersed with that of the jews. mosques, _souks_, and synagogues give an oriental blend as lively in colouring and variety as will satisfy the most insistent. nabeul's industry consists chiefly in the fabrication of pottery,--a fragile, crude, but lovely pottery, which travellers carry afar, and which is the marvel of all who contemplate it. the enterprise is of french origin, but the labour which produces these quaint jugs, vases, and platters (which are not dear in price) is purely native. the potter's thumb marks are over all. the pieces have not been rubbed and burnished down, and accordingly the collector knows he has got the real thing, and not a german or belgian clay-thrower's imitation. nabeul was the ancient neapolis, which was destroyed by the romans at the same time that carthage came under the domination of augustus. south again from nabeul, by road or rail, for the railroad still continues another hundred kilometres, and one is at sousse. change cars for kairouan, the holy city of tunisia! sousse is an important and still growing port with as mixed a population as one will see in any mediterranean town of twenty-five thousand inhabitants. the french number perhaps twelve hundred, the italians three or four thousand, and the maltese as many as the french. the rest are arabs; you might call them seafaring arabs rather than desert arabs, for they are as often on the sea as off it. the _souks_ of sousse are famous. there is no longer a great berber or byzantine city closed in with walls with a gate on each cardinal face; all this has disappeared in the march of progress; but the arab town, everywhere in algeria and tunisia, is a feature of the life of the times, even though it has been encroached upon by european civilization. the _souks_, or markets, are here more bizarre and further removed from our twentieth-century ideas of how business is, and should be, done than in any other mixed european-mussulman centre of population. in the souk des herbages are sold roots and herbs of all sorts, pimento peppers, henna, garance, dried peas, and other vegetables. the souk des arabes holds the rug and carpet sellers, the armourers, the weavers of the cloth of the burnous, tailors, etc. in the souk des juifs, a dark, ill-smelling, tiny nest of narrow corridors, are found the jewelry makers and the broiderers. this and more of the same kind is sousse. in addition there are the brilliant variegated sails of the italian and maltese fishing-boats, the _dhows_ of the arabs, and all the miscellaneous riffraff which associates itself mysteriously with a great seaport. sousse is an artist's paradise, and its hotels are excellent,--if one cares for sea food and eternal mutton and lamb. the kasba of sousse sits high on the hillside overlooking the arab town and the _souks_. a long swing around the boulevards brings one to the same culminating point. a phoenician acropolis stood here before the eleventh century, and the remains of a pagan temple to-day bear witness to the strong contrast of the manners of yesterday and to-day. the great signal-tower of the citadel is a reconstruction of a pharo called khalef-el-feta, which stood here in . whatever may have been the value of this fortification in days gone by, it looks defective enough to-day with its hybrid mass of nondescript structures. at all times, and from all points of view, it is imposing and spectacular, and is the dominant note of every landscape round about. its angularities are not beautiful, nor even solid-looking, and the whole thing is stagy; but for all that it is imposing and above all grim and suggestive of unspeakable turkish atrocities that may have been carried on in its immediate neighbourhood. monastir is a near neighbour of sousse, twenty odd kilometres away, over as fine a roadway as one may see anywhere. automobilists take notice! the hôtel de paris at monastir has a "sight" in its dining-hall, which alone is worth coming to see, aside from the excellent breakfast which you get for fifty sous. this apartment was formerly the great reception-hall of the arab governors of the province, and as such becomes at once an historic shrine and a novelty. not a town in algeria or tunisia has so quaint a vista as that looking down monastir's "grande rue." it's not very ancient, nor squalidly picturesque, but somehow it is characteristically quaint. and it "composes" wonderfully well, for either the artist's canvas or the kodaker's film. sousse and monastir should be omitted from no artist's itinerary which is supposed to include unspoiled sketching grounds. kairouan, the mohammedan holy city of tunisia, lies sixty kilometres southwest from sousse. kairouan dates only from the mussulman conquest, having been founded by the propagator of islam in africa, okba-ben-nafi ( heg. a.d.). kairouan became the capital of what is now tunisia in the ninth century, and tunis itself was its servitor. up to this day kairouan has guarded its religious supremacy as the holy city of the eastern moghreb, and accordingly is a place of pilgrimage for the faithful of all north africa. the french occupied the city in without resistance on the part of the inhabitants. and to-day it is a live, wide-awake important centre of affairs, besides being a mohammedan shrine of the very first rank. the native city is entirely free from french innovations and remains almost as it was centuries ago. the mosques and the native city are all-in-all for the stranger within the gates, particularly the mosques, for here, of all places in tunisia, their doors are opened to the "dogs of infidels" of overseas. but you must remove your shoes as you enter, or put on _babouches_ over your "demi-americain" boots, which you bought in marseilles before leaving france (poor things, by the way; one suspects they were made in england, not in america at all). of first importance are the mosques of sidi-okba, the "grande mosquée;" and of sidi-sahab, the "mosquée du barbier." the djama sidi-okba, or "grande mosquée," is a grandly imposing structure with a massive square minaret of the regulation tunisian variety. within it is of the classic type, with seventeen aisles and eight great thoroughfares crossing at right angles. it is a cosmopolitan edifice in all its parts, having been variously rebuilt and added to with the march of time, the earliest constructive details being of the third century of the hegira, the ninth of our era. the _minbar_, or pulpit, the _faïences_, the ceilings and the best of hispano-arabic details are here all of a superlative luxuriance and mystery. the "mosquée du barbier" ("sidi-sahab") is built over the sepulchre of one of the companions of the prophet himself. legend says that he always carried with him three hairs of the beard of the prophet. these were buried with him, of course, but whether that was his sole recommendation for immortality the writer does not know. less imposing than [illustration: _in a kairouan mosque_] the "grande mosquée," this latter is quite as elaborately beautiful in all its parts. the carved wooden ceiling, the rugs and carpets of rare weaves, the stuccos and the _faïences_, are all very effective and seemingly genuine, though here and there (as in the tomb of sidi-sahab) one sees the hand of the renaissance italian workman instead of that of the moor. kairouan has a special variety of _cafés chantants_ and _cafés dansants_, which is much more the genuine thing than those at biskra or tunis. still south from tunis, further south even than sousse, kairouan, and sfax, lies a wonderful, undeveloped and little known country of oases and _chotts_, the latter being great expanses of marshy land sometime doubtless arms of the sea itself. the oases of gabès and tozeur are called the _pays des dattes_, for here flourish the finest date-palms known to the botanical world; while the oases themselves take rank as the most populous and beautiful of all those of the great african desert. the _chotts_ are great depressions in the soil and abound in the region lying between touggourt and biskra in algeria, and gabès in tunisia. the _chotts_ are undoubtedly dried-out beds of some long disappeared river, lake or bay, and their crystallized surfaces are to-day veritable death-traps to the stranger who wanders away from the beaten caravan tracks which cross them. the _chotts_ are very ancient, and an account of a caravan which was lost in one of them was published by a spanish historian of the ninth century. herodotus, too, makes mention of a lake triton, probably the chott-nefzaoua of to-day, which communicated with the syrte, now the gulf of gabès. the "sud-tunisien," as all this vast region is known, is all but an unknown land to the tourist. sousse and sfax are populous, busy maritime cities, largely europeanized, but still retaining an imprint quite their own. kairouan, just westward from sousse, where the railway ends, is the chief tourist shrine of tunis outside tunis itself and carthage. but beyond, except for an occasional stranger who would hunt the gazelle, the moufflon, or the wild boar, none ever penetrate, save those who are engaged in the development of the country, and the military, who are everywhere. between sousse and sfax is el djem, the thysdrus of the time of cæsar, and afterwards one of the richest cities of north africa. gordian, the proconsul, was proclaimed emperor of the colony in a.d., and the present grand old ruin of an amphitheatre, a great oval like the colosseum at rome, served many times as a fortification against berber and vandal hordes, besides performing its conventional functions. el djem and its marvellous arena, nearly five hundred feet in length and four hundred in width, is one of the surprises of the tunisian itinerary. [illustration] from sfax, which is linked with sousse by a service of public automobiles, another apologetic loose end of railway takes birth and runs west to gafsa, a military post of importance and not much else; a favourite spot for the french army board to exile refractory soldiers. they leave them here to broil under a summer sun and work at road-making in the heat of the day. after that they are less refractory, if indeed they are not dead of the fever. chapter xxvi the oasis of tozeur one arrives at tozeur via sfax and gafsa and the light narrow-gauge railway belonging to the company exploiting the phosphate mines. beyond gafsa the line runs to metlaoui, peopled only by six hundred phosphate workers of the mines, a mixed crew of arabs, sicilians, and maltese, speaking a veritable _jargon des ours_, which nobody but themselves can understand. it is strange, this little industrial city of the desert, but it is unlovely, consisting only of little whitewashed cubes of houses, a school-house, a miniature church and mosque, and a few miserable little shops. gafsa is the chief metropolis of the region of the _chotts_. it is called by the arabs the pearl of the djérid, and is a military post, and the _bled_, or market town, for untold thousands of desert nomads. the same word _bled_, when used by the city dweller, means the desert. such are the inconsistencies of arab nomenclature. they almost equal our own. tozeur is reached from gafsa by any one of a half dozen means. on foot, on bicycle,--if you will, by automobile,--if you have the courage, by diligence, _calèche_, or on horse, donkey, or camel back. if by either of the latter means, you will of course be accompanied by a grinning blackamoor who will respond to the name of mohammed, and be thoroughly useless except to prod the animal now and then. you and he will understand each other by sign language, or by what might be called phonetic french, and you will get on very well. tozeur is eighty odd kilometres from gafsa over a "_route carrossable_," as the french describe a carriage road,--sandy and rutty in places; but still a road which ranks considerably higher than most of those of ohio or indiana. there are no means of obtaining provisions, or even water, _en route_, so the journey must be made either in a day, or arrangements made for camping out overnight. with a good guide the journey might preferably be made at night, for a nocturnal ramble in the desert is likely to awaken emotions in the sentimentally inclined which will be something unique among their previous experiences. an arab horse or mule will think nothing of doing sixty kilometres between sunrise and sunset, but if a _calèche_ is to be one's mode of conveyance, thirty-six hours is none too long to allow for the journey from gafsa to tozeur. the high-class arab professes a contempt for the donkey or the mule, though this indeed is no part of his creed, for we must not ignore that it was a donkey that the prophet most loved among beasts. for the masses who have passed the _bourriquet_ stage, the mule is the beast of burden par excellence. the bey of tunis, when he takes his promenades abroad, has a team of six mules attached to his band-wagon coach, and superb and distinguished-looking beasts they are; but the desert sheik will have nothing but an arabian horse, not the "charger shod with fire" of the drawing-room song, but a sound, sturdy, agile beast, a good goer and handsome to look upon. the _indigène's_ mule will amble along over a desert track fourteen or sixteen hours out of the twenty-four, carrying his human burden in the characteristic arab saddle known as a _borda_, and scarcely seeming to feel the weight. the arab is habitually kind to his beast of burden, at least he is no more cruel to him than most lighter coloured humanity, and not nearly as much so as the sicilian and the spaniard. [illustration: _el oued_] the little donkey to which the prophet showed compassion was doubtless a contrary little beast at times; but, since he is reputed to have been able to go leagues and leagues without either eating or drinking, loaded with burdens at which a full-grown mule and horse had balked, the _bourriquet_ of the desert arab must have had (and has) some undeniable virtues. not often is his lot an unhappy one, and the strangling curb and bit and the resounding whacks from a spade or shovel, with which the sunny-faced italian usually regales his four-footed friends, are seldom to be noted in north africa. the arab is voluntarily just towards all living things, and if he sometimes forgets himself, and gives his camel or his donkey a vicious prod, he, perhaps, has had provocation, for both are contrary beasts at times. _en route_ one passes many caravans, fifty or a hundred camels in a bunch, half as many horses and mules, a score of donkeys, and a troop of women, children, and dogs bringing up the rear. most of them are making for kairouan or gabès, coming from algeria through the gateways of el oued and ourgala. the camels march in indian file, loaded down with bales and barrels, a hundred, a hundred and fifty and more kilos to each. no other means of transportation is so practicable for the commerce of the desert, nor will be until some one invents a broad-tired automobile that won't sink in the sand. the camel's foot, by the way, doesn't sink in the sand, and that is why he is more of a success in the desert than any other carrier. when the ideal automobile for the desert comes, the ship of the desert will disappear, as the horse is disappearing from the cities and towns of europe and america. intermingled with the caravans are occasional flocks of sheep, black-faced sheep and rams, with two, three, and even four horns apiece, and fat, wobbly tails of extraordinary size, the characteristic, it seems, of the sheep of the sud-tunisien. like the hump and the six stomachs of the camel, this fat caudal appendage of the tunisian sheep is a sort of reserve supply of energy, and when it is dry picking along the route, they live on their fat. other animals often starve under like conditions. long before tozeur is reached one wonders if the guide has not lost his bearings. probably he hasn't, but it is all like the trackless ocean to the man in the saddle, and the mule or donkey or camel doesn't seem to care in the least which way his head is turned so long as he is not made to push forward at full speed. if one encounters a native, the guide being momentarily hidden behind a sand-dune, most likely a _bonjour_ or a _salut_ will be forthcoming; but that is all. the native's french vocabulary is often small, and in these parts he is quite as likely to know as much of italian, maltese or hebrew. one that we encountered looked particularly intelligent, so after the formal courtesies of convention, we risked: "tozeur? loin?" "là-bas." "combien de temps?" "il en faut." "quelle distance?" "au bout." our interrogatory was not a success. another time we should trust to our guide and bury suspicion. the arab has some admirable traits, but he often does not carry things to a finish, not even for his own benefit, and his acquaintance with french is apt to be limited and his conversation laconic. the oriental proverb on the life of the nomad suits the arab to-day as well as it ever did. _mieux vaut être assis que debout,_ _couché qu' assis,_ _mort que couché._ finally a blue line of haze appears on the horizon, something a little more tangible than anything seen before, unless indeed it prove to be a mirage. if not a mirage, most likely it is tozeur, or rather the palms surrounding that sad, but interesting centre of civilization. "tozeur?" you ask again, of mohammed this time, and that faithful arab with a curt assent breathes the words "_c'est bien ça_." mohammed is learned, has mingled with the world, and is suspicious that your confidence in his powers is not all that he would have wished. "well, here we are," he thinks, "now what have you got to say?" "_c'est bien ça: tozeur! oui! oui! je n'ai trompé pas jamais, moi, mohammed._" by this time he has thought it all out and is really mad, but his mood soon passes and he becomes as before, taciturn, faithful and willing. the arab doesn't bear malice for trivial things. by contrast with the houses of kairouan, sousse and sfax, which cut the blue of the sky with a dazzling line of white, tozeur is but a low, rambling mud-coloured town of native-made bricks called _tobs_. the impression from [illustration: _a street in tozeur_] afar is one singularly sad and gloomy, for the architectural scheme of the builders of tozeur is more akin to that of the soudanese than to that of the berber or arab. in its detailed aspect the architecture of tozeur is remarkably appealing, quaint, decorative, and founded on principles which the roman builders of old spread to all corners of the known world of their day. this may be the evolution of the architecture of tozeur or it may not, but certainly the flat-brick construction is wonderfully like that of the baths and cisterns of the romans. tozeur itself is melancholy, but its situation is charming and contrastingly interesting to all who hitherto have known only the arabe-mauresque architecture of the cities of the littoral, or the roman ruins of the dead cities of lambessa, timgad and tebessa. the little garrison which the french planted here some years ago has gone, and only a few european functionaries remain, those in control of the _impôt_, a doctor and an innkeeper, who doubtless means well, but who has a most inadequate establishment. and this in spite of the fact that tozeur is the capital of the djérid. the djérid itself is a great expansive region between the plateau steppes and the desert proper. the natives are berbers who have become what the french call _arabisé_, though many of their traditions seem to be paganly roman rather than mussulman. the hotel accommodations of tozeur are endurable, but as before said they are inadequate. travellers are rare in this desert oasis, and two or three sleeping-rooms scantily furnished--a bed, a chair and a wash-basin--are the extent of the resources of mme. besson's apologetic little hotel. tozeur's market is a mere alley of inverted v-shaped huts of reed, wherein are sold--after much solemn bargaining and drinking of coffee--all the small wants of the desert arab, such as a morsel of town-baked bread, hobnails for his shoes, a piece of tanned leather--with the fur on--with which to make a new sole, a hank of thread, a tin pot or pan, or a bandanna handkerchief--which however must have stamped upon its border some precept from the koran. the arab's personal wants are not great, and as he almost invariably carries his worldly goods about with him they are accordingly not bulky. our only diversion at tozeur was watching an hysterical fête or pilgrimage to the neighbouring tomb of a marabout who died in recent years richly endowed with sanctity. the history of this holy man was told us as follows: this man, alfaoui, had lived all his life in algeria, practising the virtues of the koran so assiduously that he was reckoned by his friends and neighbours as one of the good and great. having taken too active a part in the insurrection of , when the whole country--except kabylie--was ablaze with sedition, he fled precipitately from algeria and settled with his goods and chattels at tamerza in tunisia, one of the oasis villages of tozeur, arriving in time to great repute and respect among the people. alfaoui's compact with allah was not however so intimate but that he occasionally conspired against the french, who, in the eighties, came to occupy tunisia, as they had algeria fifty years before. his conspiracies were in a way harmless enough, and consisted principally in "doing" the french officials at every opportunity. he refused to pay his taxes, and advised his followers to do the same; he smuggled tobacco, firearms and matches, and trafficked in them among the natives, to the loss of a certain revenue to the fiscal authorities, who, when they finally ran him to earth _en flagrant délit_, found only some thousands of empty match boxes with english labels,--but made in belgium nevertheless,--the kind of matches where you scratch three before you get one to burn, or as the french say of their own abominable _allumettes_, it takes a match to light a match. alfaoui was tried and condemned by the french tribunal, and it was this ready-made "martyrdom by infidels" that caused the faithful roundabout to elevate the meddlesome alfaoui the algerian to the distinction of a marabout, and a house or _kouba_ was built for him entirely of brick taken from the sepulchres of a neighbouring cemetery. thus are holy reputations made to order in the fanatical faith of the mussulman. alfaoui's followers to-day are many, and without knowing why they venerate him, thousands make the pilgrimage to his shrine, and wail and chant and weep and have a good time generally. the government says nothing. it fears nothing to-day, and since the mussulman must have many and convenient shrines for the excesses of his devotion to the principles of the koran, why that of a _contrebandier_ and agitator serves as well as any other and no harm done. the great date-palm plantations of tozeur are watered by a complicated system of irrigating canals whose flood-gates are opened every morning by the authorities. a very deep spring gives an abundant supply of sweet, limpid water which runs in miniature rivulets around and through the tentacle-like roots of the djérid's million palm-trees, bringing the means of livelihood and prosperity to a conglomerate population of thirty thousand souls. thirty millions of kilogrammes of dates bring a considerable profit to the cultivator, even if a goodly share does go to the exploiter, the transportation company and the middleman. four hundred thousand frances in taxes and duties are collected yearly, from this most fertile of all african date-growing regions. all this is something to think about and marvel at when one is threading his way slowly through the palisaded trunks of a grove of a million palm-trees. the arab knows the value of dates as a food product, but it needed the european to exploit the industry profitably. the arab's veneration for the date-palm is great, and he affectionately refers to it as "the tree which grows with its feet in the water and its head in the fire of the sky." there is another product of the palm-tree less beneficial to man, and that is a sort of wine or sap which is gathered much as the mexican gathers _pulque_, or as the resin is sapped from the pine-tree. it's a soft, pleasant, somewhat sticky liquid, seemingly innocuous, but its after effects may be safely guaranteed as being of the "stone-fence" variety. the arab, by tradition, is a temperate person in food and drink, but the european has taught him to drink white wine and he himself has copied the french and taken (in small numbers fortunately) to absinthe, and now he has got a ready-made distillery of _lagmi_ in every palm-tree. the government proposes some sort of control of this "moonshining," but the wheels of the law, like those of god, move slowly, and the seed of dissolution may yet be sown among the arabs of tozeur before the fiscal authorities find a way to levy a tax on _lagmi_. no one who ever saw the _indigène_ villages attached to a fertile saharan oasis will fail to remark that in spite of the proximity of the cool, welcome shadow of the thick-growing palm-trees, the _adobé_ (_tob_) huts are invariably huddled together upon some blazing, baked spot of ground with not so much shelter from the sun's rays as is given by a flagpole. why indeed is it so? the arab may be like the neapolitan in his contempt for those who walk or live in the shade, but certainly the sun-baked existence which most dwellers in arab mud houses live for twelve months out of the twelve must be enervating and discouraging, or would be if the arab ever felt the effects of heat and cold, which apparently he does not. perhaps this is the explanation of the motive which prompts him to select his town sites where he does. the case is not so hopeless though; the palm-tree grows quickly; and a dozen years would transform the most dreary, monotonous arab town of sun-cured mud walls and roofs into a garden city which would rival paradise. perhaps some day the "movement"--as we call the latest vogue in america and england--will strike north africa, and then we shall have graded streets, lamp-posts on every corner and artificial lakes with goldfish in them. and then where will be the rude picturesqueness of the arab town which charms us to-day? tozeur is not a lovely town, even as african towns go, but it is interesting, comfortable, and accessible, after you have once got to sfax and gafsa. it is altogether a little bit of mediævalism which even the life of the arab of to-day cannot change. and there is scarcely any evidence plainly visible to indicate that tozeur is not living three centuries back in the past. the environs of tozeur offer views of ravishing beauty to the artist or the more sentimentally inclined. from the height of the minaret of ouled-medjed one commands a view of the entire oasis of degach, with here and there a clump of dismantled ruined habitations and on the horizon the illimitable, miraculous desert mirage. to the direct south is the great _chott_, so shallow that the trail to gabès can cross it at its widest part. to the four cardinal points one frames his views of that marvellous african landscape; seen only at its best from within a horseshoe-arched window, the invariable ogive accompaniment of the true arab replica of moorish architecture. the view from the height of tozeur's mosque is a replica of that of which richepin sang. it is not kipling, but it is good sentiment, nevertheless. "loin, loin, toujours plus loin, la mer morte des sables s'étalait sans limite, et rien ne remuait sur l'immobilité des flots infranchissables, sur l'immobilité de l'air lourd et muet." coming down to earth, and making our way gropingly back to mme. besson's humble rest house, a storm broke over our heads. it came with the suddenness of night; and sticks and stones and much sand, and hailstones as big as plover's eggs, fell through a suffocating stillness with blinding force. it was all over in a moment. it came and went like the characters of the stage, without announcement and without adieu, and tozeur settled down again to its wonted calm. the _muezzin_ calls to prayer at sundown and night falls brusquely on the silent desert air as if an inky wave had engulfed all before it. the end. index _abd-el-kader_, , _adam, de l'isle, villiers_, _adam, the brothers_, _aeneas_, africa, the granary of, the palm-trees of, the wheat of, ain-beïda, diligence from, to tebessa, railway from kenchela, to, ain-séfra, _alfaoui, the algerian_, , alger, "la blanche," highest peak in, province of, province of, , , algeria, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , algeria, agriculture in, , arab of the, , arab chiefs in, arab and berber, population of, climate of, - , commercial possibilities in, currency in, - forçats of, the, glimpse of real countryside of, goum of, the, hebrew of, the, kabyles, the auvergnats of, koubas of, native arab soldiery, - nomad arab, negro café in, the, - of to-day, - one of the richest agricultural lands, population of, - railways of, - , regular soldiery in, the, revenues of, romantic character in history of, routes nationales of, spahis and turcos of, taxes in, tax on wine, in, tobacco, a source of profit in, - trade between, and france, wild beasts killed in, list of, wine industry of, - winter in, algeria and tunisia, , , , , , , , , arab town in, the, architecture of mosques in, barbary fig in, diligence of, - divisions of native mussulman population, foreign population in, french policy in, horses seen in, immigration of arab population of, jews in, - marabout of, the, - marabouts in, newcomers to, pilgrims from, ports of, roads of, sheiks of, story of, the, wines of, algerian, arab horse, the, budget, the, coast, temperature on, - gold coin, journal, account of divorce in, - mountains, quick-lunch, wine, algiers, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , and beyond, - and its life, arabs of, the, arab town of, the, - architectural charms, café d'apollon in, environs of, grande mosquée of, great white city, - historical and romantic figures of, icosium of the romans, the, jewesses of, kasba at, the, , , minarets of, mosque marabout of sidi-brahim, at, pacha of, a (see _salah raïs_) place du gouvernement at, population of, port of, shoeblacks of, streets of, suburban, veiled women of, - _ali-ben-embarek_, _ali-bey_ (see _si-ali-bey_) andalusia, , , , , arba, , , , _arnaud_, atlas mts., the, , , , , _augustus_, , , , third legion of, , aumale, , , , , auzia, the, of the romans, diligence from algiers to, route nationale from, to bou-saada, temperatures at, aures, the, , auzia (see aumale) bagdad, kalif of, tomb of sidi-el-hadji-abd-el-kader-el-djilali at, _balzac_, , barbary, coast, the, , , , slaves of, - states, form of minarets in, _barberousse_, the brothers, _barrucaud, victor_, bastion de france, batna, , , , , , guide at, - hôtel des etrangers et continentals at, la-bivouac, negro village at, - school for arab children, - tomb of massinissa, _belisarius_, ben-izguen, beni-ferah, beni-mançour, , , , beni-ounif, , beni-salah, mts. of, beni-souf, _bertrand, louis_, beryan, _besnard_, _besson, mme._, , biskra, , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , and the desert beyond, - café glacier at, casino, the, at, , conquered by the duc d'aumale, danseuses of, excursions from, from constantine to, guides at, hôtel des ziban, the moorish cafés of, - the ouled naïl dancers of, , - plan of, rue sainte of, , temperatures at, bizerta, , , , - hippo diarrhytus of the ancients, bizerte (see bizerta) _blake_, blida, , , , , , - , , , , bois sacré of, excursions from, known as khaaba, known as ouarda, marabout of sidi-yacoub-ech-chérif at, mauresques of, route de, bona, , , , - basilica of st. augustin at, hôtel de l'orient at, kasba, the, at, road from, to la calle, roman quais at, the ancient hippo regius, tomb of sidi-brahmin at, bona-guelma railway, bone (see bona) bou-chateur, domain of, bou-noura, bou-saada, , , , , - el hamel kilometres from, from aumale to, hôtel bailly at, route nationale to, boufarik, - , , hôtel benoit at, its market, , bougie, , - off the beaten track, roman ruins at, saldae of the ancients, roman quais at, boumezou, the, _bourmont, general_, _bugeaud_, _burton, sir richard_, , _cabannes_, _cæsar_, , , , , _caïd of the tell, the_, anecdote of, cairo, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , cape to, kalif of, minaret of mosque of el bardenei, minaret of mosque of kalaun, mosque of hmrou at, mosque of iba touloum at, cap bon, cap carthage, , , cap matifou, _caracalla_, arch of triumph of, , cart-hadchat (see carthage) carthage, , , , , , , , , , - , , , , basilica of st. louis at, musée lavigerie at, plan of, recent discoveries at, - steam tram from tunis to, the glory that once was, - vin blanc de, , carthago (see carthage) casablanca, castiglione, tombeau de la chrétienne, near, - _cato_, _cervantes_, cesarea, capital of mauretania, _chabannes, m._, _charles v_, , , , chelia, mt., chellu (see collo) cherchell, , , , , , , , , ancient port of, from tipazato, by road, grande mosquée of, population of, road to, roman ruins at, roman quais at, , chiffa, gorges de, (see gorges de chiffa) chio, chott nefzaoua, chotts, the, - , cirta (see constantine) _clauzel, general_, _cleopatra_, col des genets, col des oliviers, collo, chellu of the ancients, roman quais at, colomb-béchar, _columbus_, _constant_, constantine, , , , , , , , , , , , , and the gorge du rummel, - arab cemetery at, arab town of, the, , camel caravan from, cirta of the ancients, , danseuses of, environs of, first glimpse of, monuments of, mosque of salah bey at, mussulman festival at, - palace of bey at, - plague of locusts in, plan of tomb of médracen, province of, , , railway from, to biskra, rock of, roman remains at, "siège de," by vernet, société archéologique of, streets of, tomb of constantine, near, tomb of médracen on road from, to batna, temperature, and rainfall at, _constantine_, tomb of, , constantinople, , , , , , , , , kalif of, minarets of st. sophia at, sultans of, are religious heads, _cook_, , cordova, , _corot_, costechica, _d'annunzio_, _de amicis, edmond_, _de nerval_, _de vegas_, _decatur_, degach, oasis of, _delacroix_, _delattre, père_, dellys, diana, temple of, diana (see zana) _dido_, , _dinet_, djeefa, temperature and rainfall at, djemel (see el-djem) djerid, the, , , date-palms of the, the "pearl" of the, tozeur, the capital of, djidjelli, ancient colony of igilgili, djurjura, the, kabylie du, _don juan of austria_, dougga, ruined portal at, _duc d'aumale_, , _dumas_, _duquesne_, _duval, m. jules_, _eberhardt, isabelle_, egypt, , , , , , , , , el ateuf, _el bekri_, el djem, - amphitheatre at, thysdrus of the ancients, el guerrah, , el hamel, visit to marabout of, - el kantara, - , , , an artist's paradise, bridge of, , excursions from, gorge of, , hôtel bertrand at, el-moungar, el oued, , _elissa_, _esculapius_, temple to, _fatmah_, sign of the hand of, _ferdinand_, fez, , , kalif of, kingdom of, sultan of, figuig, , , , , , grand hôtel du sahara, at, , to laghouat by caravan, _flaubert_, _flavius maximus, prefect_, fort national, , , , temperature and rainfall, _fragonard_, _fromentin_, _fronton_, gabès, , , , , , gulf of, the ancient syrte, oases of, and tozeur, , railway from tlemcen to, trail to, gafsa, , , , , journey from, to tozeur, - railway to, _garner_, _gautier, théophile_, , , , _gerhard, paul_, work on butterflies of north africa, _gérome_, géryville, temperature and rainfall at, ghardaïa, , gibraltar, , , strait of, , _gide, andré_, goletta, la (see la goletta) _gordian, proconsul_, gorges de chiffa, the, gorges de maafa, gorges de tilatou, goulette, la (see la goletta) granada, , guerrara, _guillaumet_, _habib, the algerian_, anecdote, - _hadj-ahmed_, last bey of constantine, , hamma, valley of, hammam-rm'hira, , , , its mineral springs, hammamet, _hannibal_, , _hanno_, _haroun-al-rachid_, , _harry, myriam, mme._, _hassan-ben-nomane_, _herodotus_, , hippo-diarrhytus (see bizerta) hippone, hippo regius, _houdin, robert_, sent to algeria, _hugo, victor_, _hunéric_, the vandal king, _hussein dey_, icosium (see algiers) igilgili (see djidjelli) iol, phoenician colony of, (see cherchell) _isabella_, jaffa, , _jeanne, "la folle,"_ jerusalem, mosque of omar, at, _jouanne_, jouggourt, incident at, _jubal ii_, , _jugurtha_, _juno_, _jupiter_, _justinian_, , , kabylie, , , , , , , , , and the kabyles, - des babors, du djurdjura, grande, - mountain villages of, mountain women of, mountains of, , mountains of grande, , , mountains of petite, petite, story of wood-cutter of, - kairouan, , , , , , , - , , , cafés of, mosque of okba ibm maffi at, mosque of sidi-okba, mosque of sidi-sahab, - mosques of, kantara, el (see el kantara) the oued, kano, kassar-saïd, kef cnecora, kenchela, , diligence from timgad to, hôtel de france at, railway from, to ain beida, site of ancient mascula, khaaba (see blida) _khair ed din_, khoumir region, the, _kinglake_, _kings of mauretania_, _kipling_, kolea, - hôtel de france at, "vin rosé" of, , korbus, kroubs, plan of tomb of constantine, tomb of constantine on road to, ksar-baghai, byzantine fortress at, la calle, - coral fisheries of, sardine fisheries of, the tunizia of the romans, la goletta, , canal to tunis from, la malga, la marsa, , , , , - la trappe, (see staouëli-la-trappe) laghouat, , , from figuig by caravan, to, temperatures at, lake tchad, lake triton, lake of tunis, lalla marnia, fêtes of, numerus syrorum of the syrians, lambæsis (see lambessa) lambese (see lambessa) lambessa, , , , - , , , aqueduct at, arch of septimus severus at, baths at, capitol at, forum at, from batna to, government penitentiary, lambæsis of the romans, , plan of, prætorium at, , roman ruins at, third legion at, , tomb of flavius maximus, lamiggiga, _livingstone, dr._, _longfellow_, _lord cromer_, _loti_, _louis xiv_, , _louis philippe_, , lybia, , maafa, gorges de (see gorges de maafa) _macrin, the emperor_, _madghasen_ (see _médracen_) mahdia, _mahomet_ (see _mohammed_) maison carrée, , , market of, - majorca, mansourah, hills of, _marcus aurelius_, marseilles, , , , , , , , , , , _maryval_, mascula (see kenchela) _masqueray_, _massinissa_, _maupassants, the_, mauretania, province of, tomb of kings of, mecca, , , , , first kouba at, pilgrimage to, médea, occupation of in , road to, wines of, médenine, medina, , _médracen, tomb of_, melika, _merimée_, _messaoud-ben-ghebana_, metlaoui, mila, mileum (see mila) miliana, , , - , mosque of sidi-ahmed-ben-youssef at, zucchabar of the romans, _minerva_, mitidja, the, , , , , agha of, and the sahel, - moucharabias in the, mogador, _mohammed_, , , _mohammed-el-hadi-bey_, , _mohammed-en-nacer-bey_, , monastir, , bricks and tiles of, hôtel de paris at, _montmaur_, monts des ouled-naïls, monts du zab (see ziban) morocco, , , , , , , , , , , , , jews in, kingdom of, marabouts in, morsott, - plan of, ruins at, site of the ancient theverte, moulouia, the, mount chelia, mount mourdjadja, mountains of algeria, beni-salah, grande kabylie, , , kabylie, , petite kabylie, the aures, the petit atlas, , msaaba, sheik of the, msaken, mustapha, , , , , m'zabs, region of the, towns of the, nabeul, potteries of, , pottery of, the ancient neapolis, _napoleon_, saying of, neapolis (see nabeul) nédroma, , nefzaoua, the, north africa, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , arab of, the, arabian horse-flesh, rare in, arabs and berbères arabisés of, climate of, - germans in, - possibilities of trade with america and, - races met with in, railways of, social system of races of, tlemcen, the most original city in, arab of most interest in, - donkey's paradise, garden of, land of the burnous, mauresques of, - moorish coffee shops of, - path of the roman through, north african arab, the, numerus syrorum, (see lalla marnia) numidia, (see tell, the) _numidian kings_, oasis of degach, oasis of gabès, _okba-ben-nafi_, _okba-ben-nofi_, _omar, the khalif_, , oran, , , , , , , , - cathedral of st. louis at, from, to the morocco frontier, - grande mosquée at, markets of, population of, province of, ouarda (see blida) ouardja, ouarsenis, the, oudjda, fêtes of, oued bou-saada, the, oued kantara, the, oued-righ, valley of the, oued-souf, , , maison française at, _ouida_, , ourgala, paris, , , , , , , passage des roches, pasteur, site of the ancient lamiggiga, _pedro navarro_, , _percy's reliques_, (anecdote), perrégaux, railway from, south, petit atlas, the, mountains of, philippeville, , , - rusicade of the ancients, _pliny_, , _point, armand_, pointe pescade, , pomaria (see tlemcen) port saïd, , , , _potter_, _pygmalion_, _rabelais_, _rhodes, cecil_, , _richepin_, rovigo, steam-tram to, rivière des sables, rocher du lac, ruisseau des singes, hôtel at the, rummel, the, , rummel, the gorge of the, , , - ruins of bridge across, rusicade (see philippeville) _st. augustin_, bishop of hippo regius, _st. cyprien_, _st. perpétua_, _st. vincent de paul_, _saddok-bey_, sahel, the, , , , , , , the mitidja, and the, - saint eugène, , , _salah raïs_, pacha of algiers in , _salah bey_, mosque of, , _salambo_, opera of, saldae (see bougie) _salomon_, _sallust_, _salsa_, patron saint of tipaza, _scipio_, _septimus severus_, arch built under, seriana (see pasteur) setif, , population of, seville, minaret of the giralda, at, sfax, , , , , , , railway from, to gafsa, railway from, to tozeur, _si-ali-bey_, , , _sid ben gannah_, grand chef of the sud-constantinois, _sidi-ahmed-ben-youssef_, the marabout, sidi-bou-saïd, , , - _sidi-brahim_, the marabout, tomb of, _sidi-el-hadji-abd-el-kader-el-djilali_, sidi-ferruch, _sidi hassin_, - sidi-m'cid, hills of, sidi-okba, - arab school at, café restaurant at, mosque at, shrine of, tomb of, at, _sinan pacha_, _sittius_, souk-ahras, , sousse, , - , , , , , by rail or road from nabeul to, citadel of, kasba of, population of, souks of, spain, , , - , , , , , , , , , arabs and moors of, oran, a penal colony of, _stanley_, staouëli-la-trappe, abbey at, stora, a port of antiquity, gulf of, roman quais at, sud-algérie, sud-algerien, the goum of the, sud-constantinois, , , sud-oranais, , , spread of civilization in, sud-tunisien, , , sheep of the, syrte, the (see gulf of gabès) _tacitus_, tamerza, tangier, , , tebessa, , , , - , , arch of triumph at, , byzantine walls, - plan of, to, from ain-beïda, temperature and rainfall at, tell, the, , , a caïd of the, roman cities of, the numidia of the ancients, _tertullian_, theverte (see morsott) thamugadi (see timgad) thusuras (see tozeur) thysdrus (see el-djem) tilatou, gorges de (see gorges de tilatou) timgad, , , , - , , byzantine fortress at, diligence from, to kenchela, guide, - "guide illustré de," hôtel meille at, plan of, thamugadi of the ancients, , tipaza, , , , population of, roman ruins at, to cherchell, tirourda, the pass of, tizi-ouzou, , , diligence from, to fort national, railway not beyond, troops of, tlemcen, , , , , , , , - , , , camel caravans from, legend of mosque of mansourah, - minaret of el mansourah at, minaret of sidi-bou-medine, mosque of djama l'hassen at, mosque of el haloui, mosque of el mansourah at, mosques in, pomaria of the romans, , population of, railway from oran to, siege of, in d century, temperature and rainfall in, touabet, mt., touggourt, , , , , the touaregs south of, tozeur, , , , , , - architecture of, hotel at, , journey from gafsa to, - market at, oases of gabès and, , oasis of, - thusuros of the ancients, view from minaret of ouled-medjed at, _trajan_, tripoli, , , , caravans in, de barbarie, in barbary, , , , , pacha of, pirates of, tunis, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , a city of consulates, a jew of (anecdote), - and the souks, - arab town of, the, , , bardo, bey of (anecdote), - camel caravans from, danseuses of, dar el-bey at, , , en route from, to bizerta, foreigners in, gates of arab city of, jewesses of, jewish dancers of, kasba, la musique beylicale at, la ville, lake of, life of, minarets of, minaret of ez-zitouna at, minaret of the kasba, moorish cafés, mosque of djama ez-zitouna at, mosque of sidi-mahrez, old, population of, prosperity of, souks of the old town of, - souks or bazaars of, - , , , , , , , steam-tram from, to carthage, tunisia, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , army a necessity for, authorization for travel into interior of, efforts at colonizing the régence of, greater prosperity to come to, kairouan, the holy city of, , lybia of the ancients, , need of capital in, political status of native of, , , railways of, régence of, and the tunisians, - taxes in, vineyards of, in , tunisia and algeria, , , koubas in, tunizia (see la calle) utica, plan of ancient, ruins at, _valée, general_, _vernet, horace_, , _yacoub-el-nansourd, the sultan_, _yusuf_, zana, - byzantine fortress at, diana of the ancients, temple of diana at, triumphal arches at, zaccar-gharbi, the, ziban, the, , , inhabitants of, _ziem_, _zorah-ben-mohammed_, incident of, , zucchabar (see miliana) * * * * * typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: sud-algerie=> sud-algérie {pg } compared wih california or bermuda=> compared with california or bermuda {pg } kassar-said=> kassar-saïd {pg } berberes arabisés=> berbères arabisés {pg } no eyes with which to sea=> no eyes with which to see {pg } arcades and faiences=> arcades and faïences {pg } hamam-rm'hira=> hammam-rm'hira {pg } _haroun-al-raschid_, , => _haroun-al-rachid_, , {pg } sidi-bou-said, , , - => sidi-bou-said, , , - {pg } _alfaoui, the algerian_, , => _alfaoui, the algerian_, , {pg } the totall discourse of the rare adventures & painefull peregrinations of long nineteene yeares travayles from scotland to the most famous kingdomes in europe, asia and affrica by william lithgow glasgow james maclehose and sons publishers to the university mcmvi the table page publishers' note, ix the epistle dedicatory, xvii the prologue to the reader, xxi panegyricke verses upon the author and his booke, xxv the author to his booke, xxxi the first part, the second part, the third part, the fourth part, the fifth part, the sixth part, the seaventh part, the eight part, etc., the ninth part, the tenth part, index, illustrations page the author's portracture, frontispiece facsimile of the title page of the edition of , xxvii the author's portracture, the author in his turkish dress, from the pilgrimes farewell to his native countrey of scotland. the armes of jerusalem, king james his foure crownes, the model of the great seale of the guardians of the holy grave, the modell of the great city of fez, the author in the libyan desart, the author beset with six murderers in moldavia, the author in irons in the governour's palace at malaga, the author in the racke at malaga, publishers' note william lithgow was born in lanark about . the actual date of his birth is uncertain, but he states (page ) that he was thirty-three in , and in 'the present surveigh of london' 'past threescore years' in april, . he was the eldest son of james lithgow, burgess of lanark, and alison grahame, his wife. he was educated at lanark grammar school, and, according to sir walter scott, [ ] was 'bred a tailor.' scott does not, however, give his authority for this statement. lithgow seems to have started his travels at a very early age, having 'a large infusion of the wandering spirit common to his country-men.' [ ] he says himself that 'neither ambition, too much curiosity, nor any reputation i ever sought did expose me to such long peregrinations and dangerous adventures past'--but 'that undeserved dalida wrong.' what this mysterious 'dalida wrong' was is unknown, but family tradition has it that the four brothers, 'foure blood-shedding wolves,' of a certain miss lockhart, finding their sister with lithgow, set upon him and cut off his ears, and from this arose his local nickname of '"cutlugged" or "lugless" will.' be this as it may, by , lithgow had made 'two voyages to the orcadian and zetlandian isles, in the stripling age of mine adolescency, and there after surveighing all germany, bohemia, helvetia, and the low-countreys from end to end; i visited paris, where i remained ten moneths.' from paris, on march th, , lithgow set out on the first of the three journeys of which he gives an account in his 'totall discourse,' where he claims that his 'paynefull feet traced over (beside my passages of seas and rivers) thirty-six thousand and odde miles, which draweth neare to twice the circumference of the whole earth.' it was on the third of these journeys, when passing through spain with the intention of seeing 'great prester jehan and his empire,' that he was thrown into prison in malaga as a spy and severely tortured. he was released by the intervention of the english consul there and the english ambassador at madrid, backed by a division of king james' navy which, under the command of sir robert maunsell, happened opportunely to be lying in malaga roads, on its return from the expedition against algiers. on his arrival at dartford, fifty days after leaving malaga, lithgow was carried to the court at theobalds, and exhibited his 'martyrd anatomy' to the whole court, 'even from the king to the kitchin.' at the king's expense he was sent twice to bath, where he recovered his health, although his left arm and crushed bones were incurable. early in he was sent to the marshalsea prison for a long period [ ] for assaulting, in the presence chamber, the spanish ambassador gondomar, whose empty promises of redress for his sufferings at malaga had exasperated lithgow beyond endurance. in lithgow preferred a bill of grievance to the house of lords, which he daily followed for seventeen weeks, but 'the house breaking up abruptly their order for my suite could take none effect as then, nor yet since, in regard it was no session parliament.' in the spring of he left the court for scotland; he traversed the western isles, and was 'kindly intertayned' in brodick castle by james, marquess of hamilton. in lithgow published the first collected edition [ ] of his travels, under the title of 'the totall discourse of the rare aduentures and painefull peregrinations of long nineteene yeares trauayles, from scotland, to the most famous kingdomes in europe, asia, and affrica.... imprinted at london by nicholas okes.' the publication seems to have got him immediately into trouble, probably owing to the spanish influence at court, as there is a petition extant [ ] from him in which he states that he 'had no satisfaction for his grievous torments sustained in malaga, and having in the description of his foreign travels succinctly avouched the woeful memory of such disastrous accidents, had been this long time committed close prisoner to the gatehouse, when he had contracted great sickness to the danger of his life. the printer in whom only the reprehension was, is long ago "decarcerat," but he is retained in severe punishment.' he protests that he will never 'meddle any more with the spaniard however his lamentable wrongs remain unrepaired.' on the th may, , lithgow, mounted on a 'gallowegian nagge,' left scotland, where he had been the guest of the earl of galloway, intending to embark at london for russia, but shipping failing, and summer being over, he resolved to go instead to breda, and on his return published 'a true and experimentall discourse, upon the beginning, proceeding and victorious event of this last siege of breda ... london: printed by j. okes for j. rothwel ... .' on th august, , lithgow again left scotland, embarking at prestonpans for london, 'in all which deserted way, betweene forth and gravesend, wee found onely three ships, two scotsmen and a noruegian, and one of the royall whelps lying at anker in aermouth road, which made the sea resemble a wildernesse.' as the result of this visit, he published 'the present surveigh of london and england's state ... london, printed by j. o. .' in this book lithgow gives an interesting account of the fortifications raised by the citizens for defence against the royalist army. the last work known to have been published by him is 'an experimental and exact relation upon that famous and renowned siege of newcastle ... edinburgh, printed by robert bryson .' from this date all trace of him is lost; the date of his death and the place of his burial are unknown, though there is a tradition that he died in lanark, and lies buried in the churchyard of st. kentigern there. editions of 'the totall discourse' were published in london in and , and in edinburgh in and , while a volume of the 'poetical remains of william lithgow,' containing valuable 'prefatory remarks,' was collected and published by dr. james maidment in edinburgh in . the text of 'the totall discourse' now published is a reprint of the editio princeps of . references to the pages of the original edition are given in the margin. the letters i, j, u, and v have been altered to conform to modern usage, and obvious printers' errors both of spelling and punctuation have been corrected. the index of the original text has been replaced by a fuller one in this edition. glasgow, september, . the totall discourse of the rare adventures and painefull peregrinations of long nineteene yeares travayles from scotland to the most famous kingdomes in europe, asia and affrica to the high and mighty monarch, charles, by the grace of god, king of great britaine, france, and ireland, &c. gracious sir; if loyall duty may bee counted presumption? then doubtlesse the best of my meanest worth must beg pardon, for clayming so royall a patronage: yet to whom should i prostrate my pen and pilgrimage? if not unto your sacred majesty: nay, none so able to receive it, none so powerfull to protect it; and none so justly to claime it, as your soveraigne selfe. the subject treateth of my tedious and curious travailes, in the best and worst parts of the world; which being begunne in your hopefull infancy, are now finally accomplished in the fulnesse of your thrice blessed majority. the generall discourse it selfe, is most fixed upon the lawes, religion, manners, policies, and government of kings, kingdomes, people, principalities and powers; and therefore so much the more fit for your majesty. the defect resting onely in me, the worthlesse author, in handling a rare and plentifull subject, with a homely and familiar stile; no wayes fit for soveraignity to peruse. yet (royall sir) vouchsafe to remember how thankefully alexander, received a small cup of water; and what a high value was set upon the widdowes mite. if i have made use of my poore talent, the profit redoundeth unto my country; which being shaddowed under your auspicuous favour, shall leave a greater stampe to the worke, and a deeper impression, of future knowledge, to the curious understanders. and how often wont your ever blessed father, graciously to peruse lines of mine, of far lesser note then these be: yea, and (viva voce) the punctuall discourse of all my three voyages, which are now layd open to the vulgar world; and therefore i dare humbly expect a greater favour for a larger and more serious taske. so likewise your owne princely adventures beyond seas, in measuring large kingdomes, & the glassie face of the great ocean: have invited me to lay prostrate my painefull peregrinations, at your sacred feete. humbly beseeching your regall goodnesse, to remarke the matter and manner of this worke; howsoever the gift, & the giver bee deficient. and questionlesse as the bee, gathereth sweetest hony out of sowrest flowers, your royall understanding may finde something, to underprope the defects of my nothing; and my soule to exult in the smallest sparke of your gracious clemency. and lastly, the grievous sufferings, tortures, and torments, i sustayned in malaga, being taken as a spye for your late fathers fleete, exposed agaynst algier: and condemned to death by their bloody inquisition for the gospells sake. these (i prostrate say) doe command me to present the perfect passage thereof, unto your royall & religious consideration. sufficient certificates, and infallible approbations are annexed to the tragicall discourse it selfe; and it also humbly bequeathing all, unto your princely piety and pitty, to commiserate both my case and cause. wherefore (and as duty bindeth) i shall ever beseech god to preserve your royall raigne from wicked achitophells, to guard your sacred person with heavenly angels, and to guide your monarchicke state, with faithful and religious counsellours. amen. your majesties most humble, and most obedient subject, and servant: william lithgow. the prologue to the reader judicious lector; if good bookes may be tearmed wise guides, then certainely true histories, may be tearmed perfite oracles, secret counsellours, private schoolemasters, familiar friends to cherish knowledge, and the best intelligencers, for all intendements; being duely pondered, and rightly used. this laborious worke then of mine, depending on this preamble, is onely composed of mine owne eye sight, and occular experience; (pluris est occulatus testis unus, quam auriti decem) being the perfit mirrour, and lively portraicture of true understanding, excelling far all inventions whatsoever, poeticque, or theoricque. and now to shun ingratitude, which i disdaine as hell, i thought it best to exhibit the profit of my paynefull travailes to the desirous world; for two respects, the one a naturall obligation, the other a generall request: for as my dangerous adventures, have bene wrought out from the infinit variety of variable sights, innumerable toyles, pleasures, and inevitable sorrowes; so doth it also best simpathize with reason, and most fitting, that i should generally dispose of the same, to the temperate judgements of the better sort, the sound and absolute opinions of the judicious; and to the variable censures of calumnious critticks, who run at random, in the fields of other mens labours, but can not find the home-bred way in their owne close grounds: and therefore the different disposition of the good and bad, doe best concurre with the interchangeable occurrences of the matter. neverthelesse, for thy more easier understanding i have divided this history, in ten severall parts, and they also in three bookes; which being seriously perused, doubtlesse thy labour shall receave both profit and pleasure: accept them therefore with the same love, that i offer them to thee, since they cost thee nothing but the reading, how deare soever they are to mee: but understand me better, i scorne to draw my pen to the ignorant foole, neither shall it stoop to the proud knave, for i contemne both: to the wise i know it will be welcome, to the profound historian, yeeld knowledge, contemplation, and direction, and to the understanding gentleman, insight, instruction, and recreation; and to the true-bred poet fraternall love, both in meane and manner. now as touching the hissing of snakish papists; a tush for that snarling crew; for as this worke, being fensed with experience, and garnished with trueth, is more than able to batter downe the stinging venome of their despightfull waspishnes: so also they may clearely see therein, as in a mirrour, their owne blindnes, and the damnable errours of their blind guiders, deceavers, and idolaters: and above all the cruell infliction imposed upon me, by the mercilesse inquisition of their profession in malaga: which for christs sake i constantly suffered, in tortures, tormentes, and hunger: and lastly they may perceave gods miraculous mercy, in discovering and delivering me from such a concealed and inhumane murder. and now referring the well set reader to the history it selfe, where satisfaction lyeth ready to receave him, and expectation desirous of deserved thanks; i come to talke with the scelerate companion: if thou beest a villane, a ruffian, a momus, a knave, a carper, a crittick, a bubo, a buffon, a stupid asse, and a gnawing worme with envious lips; i bequeath thee to a carnificiall reward: where a flaxing rope will soone dispatch thy snarling slander, and free my toylsome travells, and now paynefull labours, from the deadly poyson of thy sharpe edged calumnies: and so go hang thy selfe, for i neither will respect thy love, nor regard thy malice: and shall ever and alwayes remayne; to the courteous still observant, and to the critticall knave as he deserveth, william lithgow. panegyricke verses upon the author and his booke to his singular friend maister lithgow. the double travell (lithgow) thou hast tane, one of thy feete, the other of thy brane, thee, with thy selfe; doe make for to contend, whether the earth, thou'st better pac'd or pend. would malagaes sweet liquor had thee crownd, and not its trechery made thy joynts unsound, for christ, king, countrey, what thou there indur'd not them alone, but therein all injur'd: their tort'ring rack, arresting of thy pace hath barr'd our hope, of the worlds other face: who is it sees this side so well exprest, that with desire, doth not long for the rest. thy travell'd countreyes so described be, as readers thinke, they doe each region see, thy well compacted matter, ornat stile, doth them oft, in quicke sliding time beguile, like as a mayde, wandring in floraes boures confind to small time, of few flitting houres, rapt with delight, of her eye-pleasing treasure, now culling this, now that flower, takes such pleasure; that the strict time, whereto she was confin'd is all expir'd: whiles she thought halfe behind, or more remayn'd: so each attracting line makes them forget the time, they doe not tyne: but since sweet future travell, is cut short, yet loose no time, now with the muses sport; that reading of thee, after times may tell, in travell, prose, and verse, thou didst excell. patrick hannay. to his dearely respected friend william lithgow. shall homer sing of stray'd ulysses toyle? from greece to memphis, in parch'd �gypts soyle: flank'd with old piramides, and melting nyle, which was the furthest, he attayn'd the while: a length of no such course, by ten to one, which thou thy selfe pedestrially hast gone: then may thy latter dayes out-strip old times, that now hast seene, earths circulary climes: and far beyond ulysses, reach'd without him, both east and west, yea, north and south about him: which here exactly, thou hast sweetly sung in ornat style, in our quick-flowing tongue; of lawes, religion, customes, manners, rites of kings and people: life-sublimest sprits in policies and government: earths spaces from soyle to soyle, in thy long wandring traces. but what my soule applaudes! and must admire which ev'ry zealous christian, should desire to learne and know; is this, spaines tortring racke and torments sharpe, which for the gospells sake thou constantly didst beare: o joyfull payne! whilst grace in those sad pangs, did thee sustaine, with love and patience: o blest lively faith! that for christs cause, condemned was to death. live then (o living martyr!) still renown'd mongst gods elect; whose constancy hath crown'd reformd religion: and let heavens thy mind blesse with moe joyes, than thou didst torments find. walter lyndesay. to my deare friend, countreyman and condisciple, william lithgow. rest noble spirits in your native soyles, whose high bred thoughts on deare bought sights are bent renowned lithgow by his brave attempt hath eas'd your bodies of a world of toyles. not like to some who wrongfully retayne gods rarest gifts, within themselves ingrost, but what thou hast attain'd with care and cost. thou yeelds it gratis, to the world againe. upon the bankes of wonder-breeding clide, to these designes thy heart did first assent one way, indeed, to give thy selfe content, but more to satisfie a world beside. thy first attempt in excellence of worth, beyond the reach of my conceit's confinde, but this thy second pilgrimage of minde, where all thy paynes are to the world set forth; in subject, frame, in methode, phrase, and stile, may match the most unmatched in this ile: but this renownes thee most, t'have still possest, a constant heart, within a wandring brest. robert allen. to his kind friend and countreyman w. lithgow. thy well adventur'd pilgrimage i prayse, although perform'd with perrill and with paine, which thou hast pen'd, in more than vulgar phrase so curiously, so sweetly, smooth, and plaine, yet whilst i wondring call to minde againe. that thou durst goe, like no man else that lives; by sea and land, alone, in cold and raine, through bandits, pirats, and arabian theeves, i doe admire thee; yet a good event absolves a rash designe: so hardest things, (when humane reason cannot give consent t' attempt) attain'd; the greater glory brings. then friend, though praise & paines rest both with thee, the use redounds unto the world, and mee. john murray. in commendation of the author william lithgow. come curious eyes, that pierce the highest scopes of sublime stiles: come satisfie your hopes and best desires; in this prompe pilgrimes paines whose deepe experience, all this worke sustaines with solid substance, of a subject deare and pregnant method; laid before you heare in open bonds: come take your hearts delight in all the colours, of the worlds great sight. come thanke his travells; praise his painfull pen that sends this light, to live, mongst living men; to teach your children, when he, and you are laid as low as dust; how scepterd crownes are swaid; most kingdomes government: how ruld with lawes the south world is: their rites, religious sawes: townes topographick view, and rivers courses, fonts, forts, and cittadales: scorch'd asiaes sources: all you may see, and much more, than i name seal'd in the authors, never-dying fame. eleazar robertson. in commendation of this history. thou art not hatch'd, forth from anothers braine, nor yet collect'd, from others toiles thy sight, the selfe-same man, that bred thee beares the paine of thy long birth: o weary wandring wight! it's carefull he, by knowledge gives thee light, and deepe experience to adorne thy name; both pilgrime, pen-man, so thy maister right; who best can judge, in what concernes the same: then free-borne toile, flee forth with winged fame thy countries virgin, thou the first penn'd booke that in his soile, did ever pilgrime frame of curious travailes; whereon the learned looke: then knit thy maiden brow, with garlands greene, the first of times, the last this age hath seene. alexander boyde. the author to his booke go painefull booke, go plead thy owne defence, walke with undaunted courage, stop the breath of carping tongues; who count it small offence to bulge thee up, within the jawes of death: go lively charg'd, with stout historian faith, and trample downe, base crittickes in the dust: make trueth thy sword, to batter down their wrath so shall thy grave discourse, triumph as just: who yeeld thee credite, and deserving trust, there prostrate fal, give them their hearts content: point forth the wise, and court them as thou must, give them insight, as i give argument: instruct the curious, inlarge the servile mind, illuminate misunderstandings blinde: sound knowledge in their eares, deigne to approove me, since friends and foes, the world and i, must love thee. the rare adventures and painefull peregrinations of william lithgow the first part see rome discover'd, italy made playne, the roman library, a golden gaine: hunns old parthenope, with venice met, and strong brundusium, in ottranto set: times rich antiquities displayd abroad on circling cume, avernus lying odde: and lorets chappell, foure times beene transported on angells backes, from nazareth detorted; where for discourse, on this false forged lady, to tend you with inveiglings, shall be ready: thus piece and piece, from soile to soile, i'le goe, and now begin, the end will deeper growe. it was a wise saying amongst the auncients, that thrice happy and blest was that kingdome, when old men bore sway and ruled the state, and young men travelled abroad: the first by long experience prudently to execute judgement; and the latter by sight and knowledge of forraine soyles and lawes, growing more judicious; might when come to age and preferment, the more facily, and dexteriously exhibit justice at home. but what shall i say to these moderne and dissolute times? when by the contrary meanes, travell is sleighted, government abused, and insinuating homelings, thrust in high offices, incapeable of them, being pratling parrots, and sounding cymbals: who convert sound judgement and justice, to their owne greedy respects, and selfe mercinary ends; turning their chiefest felicity to avaritious ambition and vaine glory, and their sweetest fortunes, to their belly and their backe. o miserable and effeminate age! when vertue by most men is despised, and neglected, and sensuall vice every where exalted: nay; ruffian pandors, by hopefull youth and prodigall gallants, are now clothed, coatched, and richly rewarded; whilst best merits and highest deserts, of rarest spirits, are neither looked to, set by, nor regarded. and for approbation, and examples sake, of their valerous designes, let them thinke upon latter passages, nor worthy to be thought upon, and they will finde this future caveat to stand needfull, hæc olim meminisse juvabit. so likewise now every capri-cullion from cæsar, to the pascorell, can crowd and chawe from his warbling waspishnes, this stinging censure of absurd untrueth, that travellers and poets may lye & lye by authority, which they themselves performe at home without leave. [concerning sinistrous censures.] by which traditional concession, i being absolute in the first, and borne to the muses, as to the world, a mungrell to both; may have a lawfull (unlawfull) liberty assigned. any marvell? if men in this kind be so injuriously censured, when the very gospell it selfe, by perfidious atheists, formalists, sophisters, romish-rabines, nullifidians, and schismaticall sectaries, is quartered, mangled, and rejected; such be the satanicall opinions of this hell-borne age: whose confused conceits, blasphemies, incredulities, and imaginary devisions, have shamefully stained the better part of this now best world. nay, good and godly kings, so pricked at, and wounded by the viperous murmurings of miscreant villaines, as though their royall and just lives were the meere inordinate paternes of all impiety, and lewdnesse. sith therefore the sacred scriptures, the gods of the earth, ecclesiasticke columes; yea the name and fame of the most righteous alive, be thus diversly taxed, and vituperiously calumniated; can prevention in me, escape the lawlesse horrour of this impoysoned fury? no, i have had already the assault, and newly prepared, patience proofe to receive more, wrought by the piercinghammer, of nineteene winters, as many summers deare bought toyle. let venome-thundring crittickes, contumeliously carpe, infernall firebrand cerberans barke, and the hell prepared off scourings of true religion gnashing grudge i have aheart can smile, at their backbiting malice, a judgement to discerne such wormish waspes, and if present, the weight of understanding truth, to confound their blind absurdities with reason. as for chamber complementers, whose vast insides, like to the vaults of wasting strombolo, are become threed-bare, having their outsides onely adorned with rich ornaments. such serving cyphers, cypher childish censures, and shallow scal-patch'd pates, have forebald tonsures. yet touch a c. flat in his face he'le start as though a dame, had grac'd him with a ------ whose wringes, winks, whose curious smiles & words, and scraping feete, lost blandement affoords: whence pride and lust, become two servile mineons to top his thoughts, with false and fond opinions: then happy they, who least frequent a court, nor in the fields of flattery love to sport. to such bellowing caves winded with the borrowed rags of patch'd-up commedies, clouted complements, stolne phrases, and lip-licked labours, of lamp-living spirits, to such hollow tombes, i say a tush for their kindnesse, and i justly hold it a manifest idolatry to honour, or do homage to any of them: and this much for the misconstruous lack-judgment of emulating cloudes, no courtiers. and as concerning the impostrat quagmires of this abortive age, wherein so many simonaicall matchevilians, mercenary parasits, and arch-betraying sicophants live, vindicating themselves excessively, upon the advantage of time, i insufficient i, to dive in such bottomlesse businesses, bequeath them onely to their owne repining consciences, just tryalls, and ignominious rewards. to satisfie the world in my behalfe, as touching my travells, i sincerely protest, that neither ambition, too much curiosity, nor any reputation i ever sought, from the bubling breath of breathlesse man (whose [the reason why the author begun his travels.] defective censure, inclineth, as instigation, or partiality, moveth his weake and variable opinion) did expose me to such long peregrinations and dangerous adventures past. but the proceeding whereof, thousands conjecture the cause, as many the manner; ten thousand thousands the effect: the condition reserved, i partly forbeare to penetrate in that undeserved dalida wrong; and reconciled times pleading desistance, moderate discretion inserteth silent patience. the mansuet cup, the gods consuetly drunke, in me involv'd, straight hony-gald it sunke: that sweete ambrosian nectar, soundly wrapt in my lock'd closet, suspitious envy trapt; and fierce-eyd jealousie, wingd with wind pierc'd staring argos, turned his hundred blind: mycene-fancy fraught, lusts fond alarmes, cros'd eye-stard'd sparta, rapt with phrigian charmes: and teare-rent sophyre, synon-like betrayd what votall oathes, loves sterne fort, ne'er bewrayd but high-bred drifts, the stormy fates, grim night and gloomy hellespont, rob'd heroes right: as illions destiny, forc'd numidias queene to gore a scepter, a diadem in teene: so haplesse i belov'd, o passion strange! may as amaz'd, admire, that time, this change. i chang'd a wolfe, once for a tusked boare, and changing beast for beast, triumph'd the more: strained to assume, in countercambiat breath, a dying life, revert in living death: translate it so, my metaphore is such, that time, nor i, nor fortune can avouch: thus passion whirling in a cloudy vale, i trancing flye, i fall, i hovering scale: and whilst from phleg'ran fields, the weirds me call, i in elisean plaines, am forc'd to fall; wherein some flowry faire enamild ground i'le place my tombe, mine epitaph shall sound, of traine-shut sluces, of the thespian spring, where chatring birds, dodonean trees do sing: and mild hydaspes streames do gently flow, there shall my lesbian layes, sad liricks shew. and where the borean roses strow the hall, where flot-glass'd nymphs, the circe-fled greeks enstal; there shall shrill triton sound, armilla's staind, whom foule affection preyd, and lucre gaind; load with the filth of dallying lust and sin, where bloody murther, like a theefe creept in; yet shall the spotles heart, triumph in trueth, when worth reapes fame and vertue conquers youth: and crowne dorasmos, faith-plight delphian bayes, with more then lawrell praise, immortall rayes. than brass-brou'd fiends, accurst by minos doome, flee fairy flight, to pluto whence you come; and tast phlageton, lethe, court proserpine, sterne radamanth attends, such stinking vermine; there hippolitus, slaine pirothous stay neere t'acheron, (all faithles lovers way) to welcome fiendly, fright eremiall guests with flame-flash'd firebrands, sulphur scorching tasts: chaynd fury-brangling, in remorseles paine, where belzebub, and lucifer remaine. in this umbragious cell, there lurks a hound to beare sarpedons scepter; helpe to sound your cleopatran clamours; and i thinke the ferrier charon, makes such wretches drinke upon the stigian bankes. then gnashing spirits that howling waile, hells inexpugnat merits: where's all your gentry? for i dare conclude, that vertue's better borne, then noble blood: this epitomizd epilogue, i send to them who best can censure't, there's an end. but by your leave, let me enter into consideration of the intractable passage of my malecontents past, and these importunate designes thereupon ensuing: and thus, have i, in the late dayes of my younger yeeres beene grievously afflicted? ah; yea; and with more then desastrous injuries overclowded, o heavy under-prop'd wrongs. but hath not the like accident befallen to man before? yea; but never the like condition of murther: nay, but then preponderate seriously this consequent? may not the scelerate hands of foure blood-shedding wolves? facily devoure, and shake a peeces, one silly stragling lambe? yea, and most certaine, that unawares, the harmelesse innocent; unexpecting evill, may suddenly bee surprised by the ambushment of life-betraying foes. all this i acknowledge; but whereupon grew this thy voluntary wandring, and unconstrayned exyle? i answere, that being young, and within minority, in that occurrent time, i was not onely inveigled, but by seducements inforced, even by the greatest powers, then living in my countrey, [a dialogue betweene the author and himselfe.] to submit my selfe to arbitrement, satisfaction and reconciliation. but afterward growing in yeeres, and understanding better the nature or such unallowable redresses, and the hainousnesse of the offence; i choosed rather (voti causa) to seclude my selfe from my soyle, and exclude my relenting sorrowes, to be entertained with strangers; then to have a quotidian occular inspection, in any obvious object of disastrous misfortune: or perhaps any vindicable action, might from an unsetled ranckour be conceived. o! a plaine demonstrate cause, and good resolution; for true it is, that the flying from evill, is a flying to grace, and a godly patience is a victorious freedome, and an undaunted conquerour over all wrongs; vengeance is mine (saith the lord) and i will repay it. to this i answer; mine eyes have seene the revenging hand of god upon mine adversaries, and these night-gaping foes, are trampled under foote, whiles i from strength to strength, doe safely goe, through the firy triall of calamities. my consolation arising from his eternall dictum, quos amo castigo, whom i love i correct: and to say my part in my soules experience, i never find affliction fall on me without desert, for god is true and just: nor shall it come, and without profit be, for god is good, as mercifull i trust. then welcome all afflictions sent from god, he whom he loves, he chastneth with his rod and as one of the auncients speaketh well, adversa corporis, animæ remedio sunt, ægritudo, carnem vulnerat, sed mentem curat: the affliction of the body is wholesome phisicke for the soule, it woundeth the flesh, but cureth the spirit. certaine it is, that the lord in chastising his owne, doth often move the wicked reprobates of his wrath, to be the instruments of his correcting hand. i could involume, as large a discourse, upon this heart-grieving project, as upon the late intollerable tortures i sustained by the treacherous governour, and bloody inquisition of malaga in spaine; being in quality, though not in quantitie alike. but constantly containing my selfe, within the precinct of patience, referring such eminences to the creator, which in a part belongeth not to the creature; i may sigh to this world, as sorrowfull �neas to his dido. infandum regina, jubes renovare dolorem. thou wouldst, i should renew my former griefe to speake of sorrow, helplesse of reliefe: he melts in woes, who uttereth griefe with words, whilst deepest streames, the greatest calme affords. but now to proceed in my punctuall purpose, the nature of man, by an inward inclination, is alwaies inquisitive of forraine newes; yea, and much more affecteth the sight and knowledge of strange, and unfrequented kingdomes, such is the instinct of his naturall affection. navigation hath often united the bodies of realmes together, but travell hath done much more; for first to the actor it giveth the impression of understanding, experience, patience, and an infinite treasure, of unexprimable vertues: secondly, it unfoldeth to the world, the government of states, the authority and disposition of kings and princes; the secrets, manners, customes, and religions of all nations and people. and lastly, bringeth satisfaction to the home-dwelling man, of these things, he would have seene, and could not attempt. travell hath beene in more request amongst the ancients, then it is now with us in the latter age. philosophers, poets, historiographers, and learned divines, how they have perigrinated to know the life of states, and the fashions of farre countries, would be an endles taske for me briefly to relate. many (i confesse) long to see the remotest regions of the earth, but dare not undertake the dangers of sight, the chargeable expences of a tributary journey, the hard indurance of flint stones, for a soft feather bed, the extremities of thirst, nor the parching heat of the sun, hunger in the belly, nor the moist distilling dew to be a humide coverlet to their tender skinne, with innumerable other insuing miseries. but ixion-like, mistaking juno, would by a meere imagination, runne out the sleeping course of an endlesse peregrination. for my part, what i have reaped, is by a deare-bought knowledge, as it were, a small contentment, in a never contenting subject, a bitter pleasant tast, of a sweete-seasoned sowre, and all in all, what i found was more then ordinary rejoycing, in an extraordinary sorrow of delights. but now to leave the contemplation of attempts, i come to the reall adventure; after two voyages i made to the orcadian, and zetlandian isles; in the stripling age of mine adolescency, and there after surveighing all germany, bohemia, helvetia, and the low-countreys from end to end; i visited paris, where i remained ten moneths. divers contestions have i had, about the equality of london, and paris, in quantity and quality: but having a more serious subject in hand than this [a comparison betweene london and paris.] paralell, i conclude thus, the infinite shipping, and commodious navigation of london (besides their universall commerce)is more of value, then the better halfe of paris: compare you the quantity, for there is the quality of the argument. paris i confesse is populous, a masse of poore people, for lacques and pages, a nest of rogues, a tumultuous place, a noctuall den of theeves, and a confused multitude: where contrariwise london is adorned with many grave, prudent and provident senators, civill, well taught, and courteous people, and absolutely, the best governed city on the whole face of the earth, as well by night, as by day, and nothing inferiour in quantity to it. from paris in the yeere of god . march . i set forward, being brought three leagues on my way, with a number of my countrey gallants, young aiton, young hutonhall, and specially monsieur hay of smithfield, now esquire of his majesties body, with diverse other gentlemen: where when my kindest thankes had over-clouded their courtesies, and farewell bid on both sides, i bequeathed my proceedings to god, my body to turmoyling paines, my hands to the burdon, and my feete to the hard brusing way. and as unwilling to make relation of my passing through france, the savoyean, & ligurian alpes, sith it is manifested unto many in this iland, both by sight and report, i would shunne, so farre as possible i can, all prolixity of knowne, and therefore unnecessary discourse. although i have a large reason, having cros'd the alpes at sixe severall parts, onely, in the owne place, i meane to comment upon italy in generall. upon the . day after my departure from paris, i arrived at rome, of the which i will memorize, some rarest things, and so proceed. this city of rome now extant, is not that old rome, which romulus founded that tempered the morter with the blood of his brother rhemus, who disdainefully leaped over the new wals; and was once the mistresse of the universe, for her triumphs and antiquities, but is now only the carkas of the other, of which she retaineth nothing but her ruines, and the cause of them, her sinnes. [the antiquity of rome.] rome which romulus first founded, contayned these two mountaines, capitolino, and palatino, with the valley lying betweene both hills: having three ports; the first was called trigonio, because of the triangle it made neere to the foote of mount palatin: the second pandonio, because it was alwayes open, and for the commodity of the passage, it was called the free port: the third was called carmentale of carmenta, the mother of evander who dwelt there: it was also named scelorata, or wicked gate in regard of . sabines put cruelly to death issuing thereat. now after the monarchy of the romanes had attained to the full height; the gothes, a base and unknowne people, displaying their banner, against this glorious and imperiall city, in the end razed, and subverted their pallaces, equalizing the walles with the ground. after the which detriment, the overthrow, the late subdued romans, recovering their ruinous habitation, were inforced to withdraw the situation of the towne, a little more downe-ward, in campus martius, close by the bankes of tibris; and transported the stones of these ransacked buildings, to reedifie their new dwelling places; hic ubi nunc roma est, olim fuit ardua silva, tantaque res paucis, pascua bobus erat. where rome now stands, was sometimes desart woods and soyle to feed some few-found bestiall goods. and yet rome was once the famous city of europe, the mother and nurse of worthy senators, the miracle of nations, the epitome of the world, the kingdome of mars, and the seven headed soveraigne of many provinces. [romes seven hils.] the seven hills whereon she stood, and now partly somewhere stands: for they are all contained within the vast bounds of the old walls, which as yet environeth the towne, are these, palatino, capitolina, viminale, aventina, esquiline, cælio, and quiraneno. which certainely do demonstrate the whoore of babylon, sitting on the beast with seaven heads, and cannot be understood but of rome, being builded on these seven hils: having a correspondence to seaven kings who reigned there; and also acknowledging seven severall rulers, kings, consuls, decemviri, tribunes, dictators, emperours, and now popes. during the felicity of the romaines, this citty was never taken, but by the gauls, which being recovered they made a law that priests (being otherwise exempted) should goe to warre, if ever the gauls came againe, with whom they fought not for dominion, but for their owne preservation: but since it became pontificiall, it hath bene made a prey to all barbarous nations, and never was besieged by any that tooke it not. the river tyber which runneth through her bosome, is not unlike to jordan and tagus; yet not so big as either of them, being all three of a troubled and muddy colour: but it is exceeding outragious, and often manasseth to drowne the whole mansions, as greeving to grace the wals of such a wicked and imperious place: who having lost her former preheminent glory, and domination over the world, would now alledge and ascribe a second prerogative over the soules of men, the heavens, the hels, the silver-coyned purgatory, the deposing and imposing of kings: the former was done by the undaunted courage of the invincible sword, the latter by presumption, avarice, insinuation, and absurd lyes. [saint catherines observation.] i remember of a pretty observation of saint catherine of siena, who being stricken in devotion, went to venerate rome, accompanied with a goodly traine; and having visited all the monuments, supposed holy places, and religious relickes there, for the space of five dayes; at last she came to take a view of the popes palace, where having spent a whole day, strictly remarkeing the gesture and carriage of the popes servants: she sawe nothing but abhomination, prophanation, and irreligious living, and worser then in rome it selfe: whereuppon suddenly the next day shee departed for siena, being an hundreth miles distant; pittifully bewayling her journey, and the miserable livers she sawe in rome. protesting alwayes after for sixteene yeares time till her death, that the winde [meaning of sodomy.] never came from the east blowing westward to siena, but she thought the filthinesse of the popes palace, and the beastlinesse of rome, ever stunke in her nose. this river of tyber especially made muster of his extravagant disgorgements, at that time when pope clement . was crowned duke of ferrara, anno . and that same night he returned to rome, tyber waxed so proud of his arrivall, that impetuously inunding his bankes to make him welcome, he over-whelmed the better halfe of the towne: and if it had not bene for the infinite charges of the pope, and desperate toile of the people, the violent force of his rage swelling courtesie, had absolutely subverted and carried away the rest of the city. the like inundation was never seene of tyber, as after this coronation, portending, that as the first gomorah was destroyed by fire, so this second sodome should be sommerssed by water. the beginning of this river springeth from the ombrian and aquilean hills joyning with the alpes appenine: whose course is fourescore and sixteene miles; disburdening it selfe in the sea mediterren at ostia twelve miles from rome. the mouth and haven whereof have beene long dammed up, to stoppe the passage of hostile and moorish incursions, least the city should be surprised on a sudden. by which slavish ecclesiasticke feare, rome is shamefully defrauded of shipping and forraine trafficke; and if it were not for the clergy, which are the two parts of the inhabitants, (besides the jewes and curtezans, which are the greatest implements of the other third part) it would become the most miserable towne in italy. and notwithstanding that for the space of . miles round about rome, there are neither cornes, nor wines, nor village, plantage, or cultivage, save onely playne and pastoragious fields; intermingled at all quarters with auncient watch-towers being an old policy of the romans, to prevent any sudden surprise of their enimies; insomuch that at my first view of rome, i imagined the people were all famished, or in danger of famishing. but by your leave, being once enterd the city, i found abundance of all things necessary for life, at so easie and gentle a rate, that never towne in europe hitherto could shew me the like. the common wine that is drunke in rome, is vin romanisco, the better sort albano, muscatello, sheranino, but as for lachrime christi, the teares of christ, i drew so hard at that same weeping wine, till i found my purse begun to weepe also; and if time had not prevented the sweetnes of such teares, i had beene left for all the last miserable mourner. as for the place [the pilgrimes dinner at the popes table.] where the pilgrimes find one dinner, called the popes table, it is thus: there is a certaine low roome at st. peters pallace, and without the gate, where every day at our nine of the clocke, there meete . pilgrimes; . from the trinity, one having a bullet for all, and seven from st peters penitentialls: where being received, the seven jesuit pilgrims get the upper place, and sit alone, yet all of them alike served, each of them having foure dishes of meat, besides bread & abundance of wine. the dinner done, their fragments are wrapt up in cleane paper, which they carry with them, and so departing, they, or like company come no more there. they are dayly served with a very venerable prelat, and a few other serviceable preists, but for the popes presence with them, there is no such matter. that liberty being spoyld by a drunken dutch-man about . yeeres agoe, who in presence of the pope gave up againe his good cheare and strong wines, with a freer good will then perhaps they were allowed him, whereat the pope grewe angry, notwithstanding the drunken fellowe cryed through his belching throate, thankes holy father, deere holy father, god blesse your holinesse. many have wrote of the singularities of old rome, and i will also recite some decayed monuments thereof, which i have seene: the speciall object of antiquity i saw, being never a whit decayed to this day, is the templum omnium deorum, but now, omnium sanctorum, builded in a rotundo, and open at the top with a large round, like to the quire of the holy grave. and a pretty way from this, are the remainants of that auncient amphitheatre beautified with great columnes, of a wonderfull bignesse and height, and a mile in compasse; the reason why it was first devised, the ghosts of the slaughtered [romes antiquities.] sabines may testifie. to be briefe, i saw the decayed house of worthy cicero, the high capitoll, the pallace of cruell nero, the statues of marcus aurelius, alexander, and his horse bucephalus. the greene hill like unto mount cavallo, that was made of the potters sheards at one time, which brought the tributary gold to this imperiall seate: the seven piramides, some whereof during her former glory, were transported from �gypt: the high and small statues of peter and paul, the castell st. angelo, which adrian first founded, standing now in a moderate circumferent height, with incircling battlements, and their doubtfull transported reliques from jerusalem, with many other things i diligently remarked, some whereof were frivolous, some ambiguous and some famous. neere to mount palatin, and the decayed temple of romulus, i saw the temple of venus, converted now to the church of sancta maria, liberatrice dalla piene de inferno, the deliverer from infernall paynes, as venus was the consolatrix of amorous paynes. besides all these i saw one most sight-worthy spectacle, which was the library of the auncient romans, being licentiated to enter with two gentlemen, sir william carre, mr. james aughmuty my countrey men, where when i was come, i beheld a world of old bookes, the first whereof, was an infinite number of greeke bibles subscribed with the hands of these holy fathers, who (as they say) translated them out of the hebrew tongue. i saw also the academies of aristotle, wherein he treateth of the soule, health, life, nature and qualities of men, with the medicaments of galen, for the diseases and [famous authors.] infirmities of man: the familiar epistles of cicero, the �neidot of virgil, the saphicke verses of that lesbian sapho, the workes of ovid, pliny, plutarke, titus livius, horatius, strabo, seneca, plato, homer, tirentius, cato, hippocrates, josepus, pythagoras, diodorus siculus, eusebius, s. austine, s. ambrose, s. cyprian, s. gregory, and likewise the workes of other excellent phylosophers, divines and poets: all wrote with their owne hands, and sealed with their names, and manuall subscriptions. i saw also the forme of the first auncient writing which was upon leaves of trees, cakes of lead, with their fingers on ashes, barkes of trees, with strange figures, and unknowne letters, that was brought from �gypt: for the �gyptians first devised the use thereof, and the sight of infinite obligatory writings of emperors, kings and princes, which i omit to relate, referring the same to be registred by the next beholder. still left untold, something there must be seene for them, who trace our feete, with argos eyne: yet let them stay, and take this verball note, they who would better write, must larger quote. bidding adew to my company, and this library, i longed to view the gorgeous mosaicall worke of s. peters church: the matter was no sooner conceived, but i went to the doore, yet afraid to enter, because i was not accustomed with the carriage, and ceremonies of such a sanctum sanctorum: but at the last, abandoning all scrupulosities, i came in boldly, and on my right hand, as i entred within the doore, i espied the portrayed image of s. peter [the brasen image of saint peter.] erected of pure brasse, and sitting on a brasen chaire. the fashion of the people is this, entring the church, they go straight to this idoll, and saluting with many crosses his senslesse body, kisse his feete, and every one of his severall toes: insomuch that those his comfortlesse feete are growne firy red, while his body, save his breasts, remaineth brazen blew: and yet forsooth some of their learned rabines will not have this superstition, but an humble commemoration of their adored saints, or the like, for procuring favour of intercession, whilst the erected idoll (interum) receiveth all their superfluous abhominations of diurnall worship. next, they lay their heads under the sole of his right foote, and arising, rub their beades on his hard costed belly: thus adoring that breathlesse masse of mettall, more then though it were a living creature. o wonderfull and strange spectacle? that these onely titular christians, should become worse of knowledge then ethnicke pagans, to worship and reverence the workemanship of mens hands. woe and shame be unto you all blind hereticall papists; why should you make to your selves idols and images of gold, silver, brasse, yron, stone, earth and tree; and notwithstanding would excuse the matter with a superstitious reason, alledging, you do it onely in remembrance, where otherwise it is a damnable signe of wilfull obdurate ignorance: may not the prohibition of the . commandement of gods law, which absolutely you abrogate, dividing the last commandement in two; confound the errour of this idolatry, ingrafted in your hardned hearts. what vertue can be in a lumpe of brasse? or what comfort in the devices of handy-crafts-men? alas, nothing but eternall sorrow & condemnation. this was one of the lamentable errors i saw in the roman sea, amongst many other thousands: when the foolish listranes or licaonians would have sacrificed buls to the honour of paul and barnabas, they rent their cloaths, and ranne in among the people, crying, and saying; o men, why doe you those things, we are even men subject to the like passions that you be: how is it then, that the apostles being alive, would have no acknowledging by any homage of man; yet when they are dead, the [superstition of papists.] romanists will worship their counterfeit similitude, in stone or tree. what unworthy-fained traditions and superstitious idolatry? what strange new devising trickes they use, to plant idle monasteriall loyterers? how many manner of wayes these belly-minded slaves epicure-like leade their lives? and what a sea of abhominable villany they swimme into, practising even unnatural vices, i meane of their wrongfuly called religious bishops, priests, friers, curates, and all the hypocriticall crew, of these pervers'd jebusites, no heart can expresse; nor the most eloquent tongue can sufficiently unfold. whose luxurious lives are vulgarly promulgat in this hispanicall proverbe: unnas tienen de gatto, y el habito de beato, el cruz en los pechos, ye el diabolo en los hechos. they have a cats clawes, and a blest saints weed, the crosse on their breasts, the divels in their deed. but for feare of excommunication from that anti-christian curtezan. i dare not persevere longer herein: although i can; yea, and so truely bewray their all-corrupted estate, that i need no information of any romane novice traveller. of whose sight and experience, would god all the papists in britaine had the like eie-witnessing approbation as i have had, i am certainly perswaded, with tears & sighes, they would heavily bemone the terrible fal of that babylonian whoore, which in a prophane estimation) is their holy mother church. for i sincerely sweare to thee, o faithfull christian (as the italian usually doth in his humours) by the golden tripled crowne of my ghostly father, paulo papa quinto, whatsoever sacriledge, incest, or villany a papist committeth; let him come here, and fill the bribing hands of the simonaicall minions, of the thrice crowned priest, (for roma non captat ovem sine lana.) [pardons for pennies.] and he shall have indulgences, dispensations, adjoyned penances, or absolved offences, for hundreds, thousands, lesse, or more yeeres. the period of time, after eight and twenty dayes abode, wishing my departure, i hardly escaped from the hunting of these blood-sucking inquisitors, of which the most part were mine owne country-men, the chiefest of whom was robert mophet a jesuit borne in st. andrewes, david chambers, and of our colledge there, one gordon, and one cuningham, borne in the cannon-gate of edenborough: and to speake trueth, if it had not beene for robert meggat, borne neere to newbattle, then resident in burgo di roma with the old [my escape from rome.] earle of tirone, who hid me secretly for three dayes in the top of his lords pallace, when all the streets and ports of rome were layd for me, who conveighing me away at the fourth mid-night, and leapt the walles of rome with me, i had doubtlesse dyed as hot a death as a lady prioresse of naples did afterward in my second travells: and for better record patricke baxstter, now dwelling in dundy, and then followed the earle of tyron can justifie the same, my custody and mine escape being both within his knowledge. yet i may justly affirme it in these parts a man can finde no worser enimie then his nationall supposed friend, religion being the cause of it, and at home none more false nor deceitfull then a bosome friend. mens mindes, their praises, best loves, and kind conceits, they hurling come and goe, like fish at baits. and the italian saith in his proverbe; god keepe me from the hurt of my friends, for i know well how to keepe me from mine enemies. from thence bound eastward, i visited naples, the commendation of which, i revolve in this verse; inclyta parthenope gignit comitesque ducesque most noble naples, breeds but dukes and earles, and gallant knights, with ladies load with pearles. among many other things neare to this city, (which in the conclusion of this historicall discourse be more particularly expressed) were lacus avernus, sibillaes cave, puteoli, the sulphurean mountaine capua and cuma, where banished �neas from troy and carthage arrived. i saw the monument of virgills buriall standing in the fore face of his owne grotto, that is cut through the mountaine of cataia, being passable for coatches, and a halfe mile long; and affixed these lines thereupon; in mantua from mothers wombe, i first conceived breath; parthenope reserves the tombe, my sepulcher of death. italy was called so of italus, a king in sicily, which first taught the people agriculture: the more impropriated names were hesperia, because it is situate under the evening starre hesperus: latium, because saturne driven from creet by his sonne jupiter, hic latebat abditus; and �notria in regard of the abundance of wines it produceth. this countrey was first sayd to be inhabited by janus, anno mundi . from whom sprung the [the first plantation of italy.] tribes of the samnites, sabines, laurentani, and tarentines: the second plantation was by evander, and certaine other arcadians, who being banished from their native dwellings, seated themselves here: thirdly, by the trojanes, under conduct of �neas, who forsaking the delicious lives of the effeminate affricans arrived here, and were kindly entertained by king latinus, whose daughter lavinia, �neas married: so thus from the trojans the italians bragge of their discent; and so likewise boast divers other nations to have discended from that dardan stocke, as glorying in such a famous pedegree. the length of italy is nine hundreth italian miles, though some allot a thousand, it is false, for i have trod foure severall times from end to end of it on the soles of my feete, even from vallese, the first towne in piemont, discending mount synais from la croix southward, which secludeth savoy; and to capo bianco in calabria, hemb'd in with the gulfe tarento on the one side, and the faro of messina on the other, it being the furthest promontore of italy. so in a false description, some blind geographers, through base ignorance, make england longer then scotland in their mappes, when scotland, by the best judgements, and mine owne better experience, is a hundred and twenty miles longer then england: it is a deocular errour, which i could wish to be reformed, as in the conclusion of this worke i shall more credibly make cleare. the breadth of italy at the roote and beginning thereof, bending along the alpes from the adriaticke coast, to the riviera di genoa, or ligurian shore, is but . italian miles, growing narrower, and narrower, till it shut out it selfe in two hornes, calabria, and terra di ottranto. the breadth of which, or either, extendeth not above foureteene english miles from sea to sea, the gulfe tarento (which is unnavigable in respect of infinite craggy shelfes) deviding the two homes. on the north side of terra di ottranto, lieth apulia, bordering with mare superum, a very fruitfull soile for cornes; & west-ward thence boundeth, terra di lavoro, or proprium regnum napolitanum. these foure territories make up the intire [the kingdome of naples.] kingdome of naples: the chiefe cities of which, are naples, capua and salerno, in terra di lavoro: in calabria, are cousenza, the chiefe seate of the president, or subvicegerent, rhegio, allauria, and montecilione: in terra di ottranto, are otranto the which towne being taken by mahomet the great, anno . involved all italy in such a feare, that for a whole yeare, and till the expulsion of the turks, rome was quite forsaken, the next are lucia, and brundusium beautified with a famous haven. and in apulia, are manfredo, arpino where tully was borne, venusio, whence horace had his birth, and canno famous for the victory of hanniball, against the romans. the church-land beginnes beyond rome eighty miles at terracina, being just opposit to gayetta, the west-most confine by the marine of the neapolitan kingdome, neare to mount circello, and the utmost marine limit eastward of campagna di roma, or the churches patrimony, imbracing both seas, till it runne to ponto centino in tuscana: which divideth the precincts of re di coffine, & aquacupadente, the last frontiers of the great duke and popes lands. all which bounds to terracina, and in the way of venice from rome to spaleto is denominated campagna di roma, or latium; and thence it reacheth along northwest, by the venetian gulfe, to the uttermost bounds of the dutchy of ferara, being thirty miles from venice: extending in length to three hundred & fifty miles, whose breadth is narrow, and where it joyneth with both seas, it is but sixty miles. the church-land is [the foure papall territories.] divided in foure territories, campagna di roma, or old latium; rome, viterbo, narni, tarni, viletri, montefiascone, and civitavecchia, being the chiefe cities: next, the countrey of ombria, or ombrosa, lying betweene rome and loretta, the chiefe cities are spaleto, from whence it is reckoned a dutchy, perugia, a sacerdotall university, fulino, and asisi, where great st. frances with his invisible stigmata was borne. at the which asisi, i saw the place (as they say) where the angell appeard to his mother, telling her, that she should conceave and beare a sonne, should be the champion of jesus, and hard by they shew me the crub or stall where he was borne, with many other foolish lyes both sinfull and abhominable: every way representing his imaginary life, like to the heavenly tract and resemblance of our blessed saviour. the third is marca di ancona by the sea side, ancona being principall, the other cities are asculi, marcerata, tolentino, riginati, aguby, and parasiticall loretta. the fourth is romania, lying along toward ferrara, betweene the sea, and the hills appenine. this ecclesiasticke dowry of romania, is disjoyned from marca di ancona, by the duke of urbins lands, which division by the sea side is thirty miles in length, containing pesaro, fanno, and sinigalia all sea port townes, the other of this dutchy are urbino, and casteldurante. the chiefe towne in romania, is ravenna, which for antiquity will not bow her top to none in italy: here the popes legate remaineth, the other be rimini, fereola, bullogna and ferrara, and this much for the popes foure ecclesiasticke territories. tuscana or �truria lying south from the middle of this church-land is . miles in length, and as much [the duke of florence his patrimony.] in breadth, i meane of that belonging to the great duke: which hereditary boundes was but lately enlarged by ferdinando, father to late cosmus, and brother to mary of medicis, the french queene mother now living: who annexed thereunto the reipublicks of pisa and siena: the other sequestrate tuscan jurisdiction, is the little comonwealth of luca: the chiefe citty is florence, whose streetes are divided by the river arno; the other of this principality, are pisa, siena, pistoia, empoli, ligorne, and arretzo. from tuscany to the west, and north-west, lieth lumbardy, intituled the garden of the world, which is now divided (besides the venetian territory, of which i will speake in the owne place) in foure principalities, milaine, mantua, parma and modena: the other cities be cremona, pavia, lodi, pleasance, rhegio brisiles, palestra, navarro and allessandria di paglia. this province is mainely watered through the middle with stately po, in which phaeton was drenched, when he came tumbling downe from heaven. the rivers ladishe, montanello, delia guarda, and other forcible streames supporting the shoulders of it. [piemont and genuaes jurisdictions.] west from lumbardy lieth piemont, betweene it and savoy: the city whereof, and wherein the savoyan duke hath his residence is torino, situate on po. the other, aste verseilles and cowie. south from piemont and lumbardy, lieth the riviera of genoa, along the mediterrean sea: the territory of which is narrow, but above one hundreth miles in length: all which is exceeding rocky and mountainous, yet producing good store of orenges, lemmons, figges and ches-nuts, whereon the mountaineri onely live, being either rosted, or baked in bread: the chiefe cities of this genewesen liguria, are genoa, [italy lyeth as the right arme, reaching forth from the maine body of europe.] and savona. italy lying in forme of a legge, is on both sides environed with the sea, save onely the north-west part, and roote thereof, which is devided from france and germany, by the ligurian, savoyean, grisonean, zingalian, and tirolian alpes, which bend north-east, and south-west, inclosing it from the body of europe, from sea to sea. italy of all other regions under the sunne, hath beene most subject to the vicissitude of fortune, yet not a little glorying in these famous captaines, fabius maximus the buckler, and camillus the sword of rome, scipio, pompey, and cæsar; for venerable poets virgil, ovid, and renowned horace, famous also for the orator cicero, and the historians tacitus, and livius: the soyle is generally abundant in all things necessary for humane life, and the people for the most part are both grave and ingenious, but wondrous deceitfull in their actions, so unappeasable in anger, that they cowardly murther their enemies rather then seeke an honourable revenge, and so inclind to unnaturall vices, that for bestiality they surpasse the infidells: the women of the better sort are slavishly infringed from honest and lawfull liberty: they of the middle ranke somewhat modest in carriage, witty in speech, and bountifull in affection: they of the vulgar kind are both ignorant, sluttish and greedy, and lastly the worser dregs, their impudent curtezans, the most lascivious harlots in the world. this much in generall for the briefe description of this region, and so i revert to mine itinerary relation. in the meane while, having alwayes a regard of my hasty dispatching from christendome, i returned through terra di lavoro, by the sea side, campagna di roma, aunciently latium, and ombria, now the dutchy of spaleto, even to loretta, standing in the marca of ancona, addressing my selfe to venice for transportation. but by your leave, let me lay downe before your eyes some notable illusions of modonna di loretta, which i found in my way-faring journey, to amplifie my former discourse, concerning the errours of the roman church, and as yet was never englished in our language. before i came neare to loretta by tenne miles, i overtooke a caroch, wherein were two gentlemen of rome, and their two concubines; who when they espied me, saluted me kindly, enquiring of what nation i was? whither i was bound? and what pleasure i had to travell alone? after i had to these demands given satisfaction, they intreated me to come up in the caroch, but i thankfully refused, and would not, replying the way was faire, the weather seasonable, and my body unwearied. at last they perceiving my absolute refusall, presently dismounted on the ground, to recreate themselves in my company: and incontinently, the two young unmarried dames came forth also, and would by no perswasion of me, nor their familiars mount againe; saying, they were all pilgrimes, and bound to loretta (for devotion sake) in pilgrimage, and for the pennance enjoyned to them by their father confessour. truely so farre as i could judge, their pennance was small, being carried with horses, and the appearance of their devotion much lesse: for lodging at riginati, after supper, each youth led captive his dearest darling to an unsanctified bed, and left me to my accustomed repose. when the morning starre appeared, we imbraced the way marching towards loretta, and these vermillion nymphs, to let me understand they travelled with a chearefull stomacke, would oft runne races, skipping like wanton lambes on grassie mountaines, and quenching their follies in a sea of unquenchable fantasies. approaching neare the gate of the village, they pulled off their shooes and stockings, walking bare-footed through the streets, to this tenne thousand times polluted chappell, mumbling paternosters, and ave mariaes on their beads. when they entred the church, wherein the chappell [ignorant devotion.] standeth, i stood at the entry beholding many hundreds of bare-footed blinded bodies, creeping on their knees and hands: thinking themselves not worthy to goe on foote to this idely supposed nazaretan house, like to this saying; lauretum nudis pedibus, plebs crebra frequentat, quam movet interius religionis amor. to lorett people haunt with naked feete, whome religion moves with loves fervent sprit. unto this falsely patronized chappell, they offer yearely many rich gifts, amounting to an unspeakable value, as chaines, & rings of gold and silver, rubies, diamonds, silken tapestries, goblets, imbroudries and such like. [romes avarice.] the jesuiticall and poenitentiall fathers receive all, but who so enjoy all, let camera reverenda romana, graunt certification to this loretan avariciousnesse, who fill their coffers twice in the yeare therewith. my foure pilgrimes having performed their ceremoniall customes, came backe laughing, and asked why i did not enter? but i as unwilling to shew them any further reason, demaunded what the matter was? o (said the italians) jurando per il cieloe iddio sacratissimo; this is the house wherein the virgin marie dwelt in galile: and to the confirmation of these words shewed me a booke, out of which i extracted these annotations. this chappell they hold it to be the house, in which mary was annunced by gabriel, and wherein she conceived [damnable illusions of loretta.] jesus, by operation of the holy ghost, & in the meane time, that devotion waxed scant amongst the christians of the primitive church in the holy land: strangers tirannizing over the territories of canaan, as heraclius, costroes king of persia, sarazens, and harancone king of �gypt; it came to passe in the yeare of our lord, . and in the time of pope nicholas the fourth, that it being shaken off the foundation, was transported miraculously by angels in the night, from nazareth in gallilee, to torsalto in slavonia: the distance being by sea and land . hundred italian miles, o! a long lift for so scurvie a cell. and in the morning, shepheards comming to the place of pastorage, found this house, wherewith being astonished, they returned in hast, and told saint george alessandro, the prior of torsalto, who in that meane while was lying sick. he being stricken in admiration with these newes, caused himselfe to be borne thither, and laid before the altar, and falling in a marvellous trance, [a simonaicall vision.] the virgin mary by a heavenly vision appeared to him, saying after this manner. [a papisticall dreamd of oration.] behold, thou hast often pierced the heavens, with invocations for thy reliefe, and now i am come, not onely to restore thee to thy health, but also to certifie thee, that thou doubt nothing of this house; for it is holy in respect of mee, the chast immaculate virgin, ordained before all eternity, to be the mother of the most high. it was in this chamber my mother anna conceived me, nourished me, and brought me up, in singing psalmes, hymnes, and praises to the glory of god; and also i kept in this roome the blessed infant jesus very god, and very man, without any grievance or paine brought him up with all dilgent observation: and when cruell herod sought the babes life, by the advertisement of the angell, i, and my husband joseph, who never knew my body, fled with him downe to �gypt. and after his passion, death, and ascension to heaven, to make a reconciliation of humane nature, with the court coelestiall: i stayed in this house with john, and the other disciples: who considering after my death, what high mysteries had beene done into it, consecrated and converted the same to a temple, for a commemoration of christs sufferings, the chiefe of martyrs. also that resplending image thou seest, was made by saint luke (my familiar) for eternizing the memory of my portraiture, as i was alive, by the commandement of him, who doth all things, and shall reserve this sacred image to the worlds end: that crosse of ceder, which standeth at the side of the little westerne window, was made by the apostles: these cinders in the chimney touch not, because they are the fragments of the last fire i made on earth: and that shelfe whereon my linnen clothes, and prayer bookes lay, let no person come neere it: for all these places are sanctified and holy. wherefore my sonne, i tell thee, awake, and goe recite the same which i have told thee unto others; and to confirme thy beleefe therein, the queene of heaven giveth thee freely thy health. [the shamefull opinions of the papists concerning loretta.] frier alexander being ravished (say they) with the vision, went and reported it to nicholas frangipano, lord of that countrey. and incontinently he sent this prior and other foure friers to nazareth, whereby he might know the trueth thereof, but in that journey they dyed. the virgin mary perceiving their incredulity, caused angels the second time to transport the house over the gulfe of venice, to a great wood neere by the sea side, in the territory of riginati in italy, being . miles distant. which, when the country-men had found, and remarking the splendor of the illuminating image, dispersed these newes abroad. and the citizens of riginati, having seene what great miracles was daily done, by the vertue of this chappell, imposed then to it this name, our lady of miracles. a little while after the people resorting to it with rich gifts, there haunted in the wood many theeves and cut-throates, who robd and murthered the pilgrims. which innocent spilt bloud, pricking their pitifull lady to the heart, she made the angels transport it the third time, and set it on the top of a little mountaine, belonging to two brethren in heritage, being forty foure miles distant from the former place. but they upon a day quarrelling, and discording about the utility of the [foure times transported.] offerings to this house, the angels did remoove it the fourth time, and placed it in a high broad way, where it standeth unremooved to this day, which place is now called the village of loretta; and from the last station nine miles distant. [a confirmation by the popes.] this was confirmed by the papall authority to be of an undoubted trueth, after a hundreth and fifty three yeares deliberation. loe, as briefly as i could, have i layd open to thy judicious eyes, the transportations, originall, and papisticall opinions of loretta; protesting i have added nothing to the authours description, but onely collected these speciall warrants; omitting other infinite foolish toyes, conceived for their blind-folded credulity. this chappell, or rather dwelling house, as they would have it, stood alwayes alone, till of late, that pope clement . caused build a glorious church over it: and here by accident i encountred with a very courteous and discreet gentleman, james arthur, whose company was to me most acceptable: our acquaintance being first made at the beginning of the same voiage upon the mountaines of ferrara in paese du burbon, and bound to visite venice, in his returning home for scotland, as well as he had done rome and other cities of italy. now i remember here of a pretty jest, for he and i going in to see the inravled image with sparrets of iron, and musing on the blacknesse of her face, and the richnesse of her gowne, all set with precious stones and diamonds; and because she is sightlesse, foure lampes of oyle they keepe alwayes burning before her face, that the people may see her, because she cannot see them. there was, i say, a young lusty woman hard by my elbow, busie at [a fleshly false-sprung miracle.] her beades, who with the heate of the throng, and for lacke of ayre, fell straight in a sound: the women about her gave a shoute, and cryd that our blessed lady had appeared to her; whereupon she was carried forth and layd upon the steppes, that discend from the chappell to the church-floore, five hundreth more come to visite her with salutations of saint, saint, o ever blessed saint; now it was friday in the fore-noone, and the woman having travelled all night, and to save charges of fish, had eaten a cold bit of her owne meat privately in the taverne, with halfe a buckale of red wine: the people more admiring this imaginary heavenly trance, than the reliefe of the woman; at last sayd i, brother arthur, i will goe open yonder womans breast, and i did so: and holding up her head before all the people, there sprung a flood of vin garbo downe the alabaster stayres, intermingled with lumpes of ill-chewd flesh: whereat the people being amazed, from a saint swore she was a divell: and if my friend and i, had not made hast to carry the sicke woman from the church to a taverne, doubtlesse, they had stoned her to death; and here was one of their miracles. another time, comming backe from my second travels in affricke, it was my lucke to stumble in here againe, where i saw an old capuschin frier conjuring the divell out of a possessed woman, who had stayed there, and two men keeping her above eighteene moneths, being twise a day brought before the chappell. the frier stood up before her, the two men holding both her armes; [a capuschin frier conjuring the divell.] and sayd, laying his formost finger on her brow; in nomine patris, &c. io vi cargo a dirmi, per quale cagione, havete posseduto l'anima di questæ poveretta; & vati ne via io ti adjuro, alia quei luogi, dionde tu sei venuto: i charge thee to shew me for what cause thou hast possessed the soule of this poore wretch, and i adjure thee to goe backe unto these places from whence thou camest. meane while the woman stood dumbe and silent for the space of a quarter of an howre, not being usuall before: the people gave a shoute, and cry'd, the divell had left her, whereat he that held her right arme did let it fall downe by her side: but by your leave, in the twinckling of an eye, the divell in the woman gave the frier such a rattle in the face, that he was stroke downe upon his backe among the people: and if it had not bene that she was borne downe with strength of hands, she had torne the silly old conjurer in peeces: crying, o false and dissembling knave, pretendest thou to have power to cast out evill spirits, when thou thy selfe is in a worser case than i, and all thy profession too; hell, hell, is your reward. this is another of our lady of lorettaes miracles, though many moe i could recite: as for any more vertue of this cymberian image, i have knowne sicke folkes loaden with all kinde of diseases, criples, lame, maimed, deafe, dumbe, and numbers possessed with evill spirits lie here before this lady, till i returned againe from asia & affrick, that same way: imploring, fasting and penitentially weeping for health; but alas poore soules, they lost their labour. when they had both spent all their meanes, and perhaps the poorest of them three yeares attendance, and forced to my knowledge to returne againe to their severall stations with sorrowfull and comfortlesse hearts. o strange and wonderfull frailty of men! what damnable imperfections domineere over their brain-sicke knowledge: sathan, thou prince of darkenesse, hast so over-sylled the dimmed eies of their wretched soules, that notwithstanding of gods eternall word, ordained to call them through the spotlesse bloud of christ jesus; to be the heires and adopted sonnes of salvation: yet thou all abhominable enemie of mankind, overthrowest both their spirituall and naturall understanding in a bottome­lesse ocean of darke ignorance; promising to thy obdurate souldiers, to build castles in the ayre; and contrarywise is busie, digging downe dungeons, to welcome thy hellish eternized guests, with horrible torments, and never-ceasing flames of everlasting fire. what wilfull-hearted man can be so apt to believe, that our blessed lady, had such estimation of morter and stones, as to have (although she had, had power) caused angells to transport a rotten house so often? no, i say, beleeve it who so will; questionlesse, the judgements of god in the trueth of his all-seeing justice, shall reward their too credulous mindes accordingly; then shall they know their foolish and superstitious errours. but now to leave them with their idolatry to stones, mettall, and images, i come to their blasphemies against the sacred deity: looke to the workes of bernardini de busti, bonaventure, and fereolus lucrius, how shamefully they derogate the glory from god, and attribute all grace, mercy and omnipotency, to the virgin mary. so ludolphus and chrysostome affirme, that velocior est non unquam salus invocato nomine mariæ, quam invocato nomine domini, vinci filii ejus: men may oftentimes be sooner saved by calling on the virgin mary, than on christ. omnia quæ dei sunt, mariæ sunt, quia mater & sponsa dei illa est, all things which are gods, are the virgin maries, because she is both the spouse, and the mother of god, saith a rabbin of theirs: and as many creatures honour the virgin mary, as honour the trinity, saith another: so, imperio virginis, omnia famulantur & deus, all creatures & god himselfe, are subject to the virgin maries command. and in their bonaventure ladies psalter, monstrate esse matrem, & coge illum peccatoribus misereri, shew thy selfe a mother, and compell him (viz. christ) to have mercy upon sinners. infinit citations could i produce, of such like intollerable [the virgin mary divided in a thousand ladies.] attributs, besides the dividing of her in a stiles, viz. the lady of the wines, lady of the oyles, lady of the cornes, lady of the woods, lady of the mountains, lady of the meeds, lady of the sheepe and goats, lady of the springs, lady of the fire, lady of the shepheards; from earthquakes, thunder and fire-flashes, lady of the angels which is at asisi in ombria, lady of miracles in divers places, florence, &c. lady of life in bullogna newly found, lady of all noble ladies, and nunnes, lady of the galley-slaves, lady of shipwracking seas, lady of rivers and waters, lady of young children, and orphanes, lady of all consolation, lady of pure virgins, lady of distressed widdows, lady of the sicke, and women with child, &c. besides the powerfull lady of mountserrata in catalogna, the aforesayd miraculous lady of loretta, and the clementious ile-ruling lady of trapundy in sicilia, &c. thus they make it manifest, that shee, that is ladye of the one, is not ladye of the other; each of them having divers gifts, divers graces, divers powers, as they alledge, divers chappells, divers offerings, and divers pilgrimages, according to the severall seasons, eminent or past-perills, peculiar invocations, and the particular neede of each family, man woman and living creature. whereby it plainely appeareth, by their dividuall acknowledgements, she is neither superior in power, universall in power, nor equall in power to god: for if she were, one chappell, one name, one place, one pilgrimage, one offering would suffice for all. they chatter over on their beads ten ave maries to our lady, and but one pater noster to christ: they make their orations thrice a day in the streets to the virgin, and none to god: they say god divided the kingdome with the virgin, reserving to himselfe justice, graunted to his mother mercy, wherefore if any man be aggrieved with gods justice, he may appeale to the court of her mercy. but to conclude their blasphemies, & horrible lies, blessed is the blessed virgin mary (the mother of christ according to the flesh) above all women for ever and ever. leaving both this and loretta, and returning to my [ancona.] purpose, james arthur and i imbarked at ancona, ( . miles from thence) in a frigato; this city of ancona, in the time of trajanus the emperour, flourished mightily in fame, and reputation, and yet a gallant place to this day; contemnunt omnes ancona moenia turcas. this sea-strong towne, set on a promontore, defieth the turkes with its defensive shoare: it glories not a little in giving name to the whole province lying betweene ombria and romania, and is situate on a hill that shooteth into the sea like a promontore, having a faire haven built by trajanus. it hath but one gate, whence arose the proverbe, un porto nel ancona, un petro nel roma, e un torre nel cremona, one gate in ancona, one peter in rome, and one steeple in cremona being exceeding high. along this adriaticke coast, i saw no remarkeable thing, save the two cities rimini and ravenna: which were famous in the dayes of octavius cæsar, but now somewhat impoverished, in regard of divers incursions sustained, and shoaring along with them, the duke of urbines three sea-port townes sinigalia, fanno and pesaro, we sayled by the mouth of rubicon, called now pissatello (which julius cæsar passed over, against the ordinance of the senate, and afterwards seazed upon rome, putting pompey to flight) i saw the place, where the bloudy battell was fought betweene the french and spaniards, anno domini . but the victory fell to the gaules, with the losse of nineteene thousand men on every side, and they have erected singular monuments there, in a perpetuall memory thereof. after three dayes sayling (having passed by malamucko, which is the haven of the great venetian shippes) we arrived at st. marks place in venice. mine associate and i, were no sooner landed, and perceiving a great throng of people, and in the midst of them a great smoake; but we begun to demaund a venetian what the matter was? who replied, there was [a gray frier burned for villanous lechering.] a gray frier burning quicke at s. markes pillar, of the reformed order of s. francis, for begetting fifteene young noble nunnes with child, and all within one yeare; he being also their father confessor. whereat, i sprung forward through the throng, and my friend followed me, and came just to the pillar as the halfe of his body and right arme fell flatlings in the fire; the frier was forty sixe yeares old, and had bene confessor of that nunnery of sancta lucia five yeares: most of these young nunnes were senators daughters; and two of them were onely come in to learne vertue, and yet fell in the midst of vice. these fifteene with child, were all re-cald home to their fathers pallaces; the lady prioresse, and the rest of her voluptuous crew, were banished for ever from the precincts of venice. the monastery was razed to the ground, their rents were allowed to be bestowed upon poore families, and distressed age, and their church to be converted to an hospitall. most part of all which m. arthur and i saw, before ever we either eate, drunke, or tooke our lodging in venice: and i cannot forget, how after all this, we being inhungred, and also over-joyed tumbled in by chance, alla capello ruosso, the greatest ordinary in all venice, neare to which the friars bones were yet a burning: and calling for a chamber, we were nobly & richly served: after dinner they layd up our budgets and our burdons, and abroad went we to see the citie: night come, we supd, and supd alone: [the chiefe venetian ordinery.] the next morne, i begun to remarke the grandeur of the inne, and saw it was time that we were gone: i demanded our dependant, what was to pay? he answered, un scudo all huomo par ciascun ripasto, a crowne the dyet for each of us, being ten julets or five shillings starling: mr. arthur lookd upon me, and i laughd upon him: in a word our dinner and supper cost us . juletts twenty shillings english; being foure crownes, whereat my companion being discontented, bad the divell be in the friars ballocks, for we had payd soundly for his leachery: many like deaths, for like causes, and worser, have i seene in all my three voyages, if time could permit me to particularize them; but from this thou mayst play the learned geometrician till thou findest more. cingitur urbs venetum pelago, ditissima nummis. this towne most rich, to dare the maine is shut, in neptunes bosome, and sea-streeted cut. venice is a garden of riches, and worldly pleasures the chiefe flowre of common-weales, and the perfect, mirrour of civill and politicke governement. this sequestrat citty, is situate in the bosome of neptune, and divided from the world, with a part of his maine body, which invironeth the iland. [the territories of venice.] the common-wealth of venice, containeth marcha del trevisa, which lieth in lombardy, containing these cities, trevisa, padua, vincenza, verona, briscia, the second city for bignesse and beauty in all lombardy, bergamo, chiozza, and rovigno. friuli, formerly called forum julii, lieth in the straite betweene the east end of the alpes, and the sea adriaticke, in length fifty, & in bredth forty miles. it hath bene often subject to the vicissitude of fortune: the chiefe towne is treista in the bottome of the gulfe, and palma lately built by the venetians . being the most impregnable, and best fortified towne in italy: friuli was a dukedome, founded by the lombards at the beginning of the venetian common-wealth: afterward luitprandus one of the dukes, envying the increase of the dominion of venice, made war against them, which ended in the losse of his owne countrey. the rest be istria, a part of dalmatia, the ilands candy, corfu, zante, cephalonia, serigo, tino, val di campare, lesina, and others of lesser note. the venetians howsoever of old, they have bene great warriours; they are now more desirous to keepe, then inlarge their dominions, and that by presents and money, rather than by the sword or true valour; so that whatsoever they loose by battell, it is observed, they recover againe by treatise. the venetians are sayd to have discended of the hennets in asia lesser, who assisting the trojans, and troy being lost, their king pterilimene slaine, they fled away with antenor; and arriving in this part of italy seated themselves, till the report of the hunnes designe against italy, made them, (avoyding the storme before it fell) to draw into these ilands and [the first plantation of venice.] marishes, where now it standeth. it was first founded, and begun, anno. . march . being distant from the maine land five miles, and defended against the fury of the sea, by a banke extending to fifty miles in length: through which in eight places, there is passage broken for small boates, but no way for vessels of any burthen, save at malamucco, and the castle of lio: yea, and so dangerous, that there is neither out-going nor in-comming, without a pylot, which maketh the citty unconquerable. this citty is seven miles in compasse, and from so base an abject beginning, it is growne (as it were) to be the chiefe bulwarke of europe: the duke of this adriatick queene, espouseth the sea, every ascension day, by casting a golden ring into it. which stultitious ceremony by pope alexander the third was graunted, when he fled to venice for succour, being persecuted by fredericke barbarossa: and the venetians vanquishing otho the emperours sonne, restored the pope, and for a reward, was honoured with this espousall. the length of the territory of venice in lombardy, lying along the foote and south side of the alpes, amounteth to sixe score five miles: the breadth whereof in the planure is narrow, but stripeth larger among the hills and lakes, and very populous. the applauding italian sayth, that europe is the head of the world, italy the face of europe, and venice the eye of italy; and indeed, it is the strongest, and most active part of that powerfull body: whereby it would appeare, that in the last subversion of the latter [the venetians are sprung of the romans.] monarchy, the romane genius made a pythagoricall transmigration into venice; whose peace hath procured the plenty, and whose warres the peace of all christendome. the lawes of this city permit not the younger sonnes of the best gentry to marrie, least the number increasing should deminish the dignity: yet neverthelesse they permit them unlawfull pleasures, and for their sakes allow publicke stewes. the jewes here, and in rome, weare red, and yellow hats for notice sake, to distinguish them from others: which necessary custome (would to god) were enjoyned to all the papists here in england, so should we easily discerne them from the true christians. and finally, to discourse upon the provision of their magnificent arsenall, artillery, munition and armor, the division of streetes with channels, the innumerable bridges of stone and timber, their accustomable kind of living, apparell, curtesies, and conventions; and finally, the glory of gallants, galleries, gallies, galleasses and gallouns, were a thing impossible for me briefly to relate. wherefore since the situation thereof, and the decorements of their beautifull palaces, are so well knowne, and their generall customes by the better sort, i desist, concluding thus; this incomparable mansion is the onely paragon of all cities in the world. mine aforesaid consort and i having spent ten dayes in viewing and reviewing this city and circumjacent isles, and my purpose reaching for greece and asia, as his was to recrosse the snowy alpes, my muse remembreth our sad departure. [mr. arthur his farewell from venice.] now freindly arthur left me, courts the maine of pleasant lombardy: by trent againe beares through the alpes, in his tirolian wayes, and past bavaria, where danubio strayes he fell on rhyne, and downe these curlings came: then shipd for albion, neare to ratterdame: and coasting isis, viewd that royall court, where once appollo did in glory sport; fraught with ambrosian nectar; crownd his daies on pindus tops, to have mecenas praise this light ohumbrat, arthur courts the north [the earle of glencairne.] and servd a noble earle of auncient worth full eighteene yeares: till death that darts our woe first smote his lord and then his countesse so: now they are fled, and he is left alone till heavens provide his hopes some happy one which if to his desert, such fortune came, a princely service, might his merit clayme. where wishing both his fate, and worth to be i'le venice leave, and visit lombardie. in the time of my staying here, i went forth to lombardy, and visited the famous cities of padua, verona, and ferrara. the commendation of which is celebrated in these verses: extollit paduam, juris studium, & medicinæ. verona, humanæ dat singula commoda vitæ. exhaurit loculos ferrarea ferrea plenos. in padua i stayed three moneths learning the italian tongue, and found there a countrey gentleman of mine, doctor john wedderburne a learned mathametician, but now dwelling in moravia, who taught me well in the language, and in all other respects exceeding friendly to me. padua is the most melancholy city of europe, the cause onely arising of the narrow passage of the open streets, and of the long galleries and dark-ranges of pillars, that goe alwhere on every hand of you, through the whole streets of the towne: the schollers here in the night commit many murthers against their privat adversaries, and too often executed upon the stranger and innocent, and all with gun-shot or else stilettoes: for beastly sodomy, it is as rife here as in rome, naples, florence, bullogna, venice, ferrara, genoa, parma not being exempted, nor yet the smallest village of italy: a monstrous filthinesse, and yet to them a pleasant pastime, making songs, and singing sonets of the beauty and pleasure of their bardassi, or buggerd boyes. i commend the devotion of venice and genua, beyond all the other cities of italy; for the venetians have banished the jesuites out of their territories and ilands: [a comparison of jewes and jesuits.] and the genueses have abandoned the society of jewes, and exposed them from their jurisdiction. the jewes and the jesuites are brethren in blasphemies; for the jewes are naturally subtill, hatefull, avaritious, and above all the greatest calumniators of christs name: and the ambitious jesuites, are flatterers, bloudy-gospellers, treasonable tale-tellers, and the onely railers upon the sincere life of good christians. wherefore i end with this verdict, the jew and the jesuite, is a pultrone and a parasite. the second part now step i o're the gulfe, to th' istrian shoare, dalmatia, slavonia, ilyria, more, valona, albana, epyre in greice, and morea fat, where jason hurt his fleece: the adriatick, and ionean iles, and lesinaes great monster; athens styles; with lacedemon sackt, and sparta rent from auncient worth: arcadia poore and shent: our gulfe lepanto, the �tolian hight, and all these coasts, till candy come in sight. after my returne from padua to venice & . days attendance devasted there for passage, i imbarked in a carmoesalo, being bound to zara novo in dalmatia: scarcely had we lost the sight of venice, but we incountred with a deadly storme at seroco e lenante. the master had no compasse to direct his course, neither was he expert in navigation; because they use commonly, either on the south or north sides of the gulfe, to hoise up sayles at night, and againe breake of day they have full sight of land; taking their directions from the topped hills of the maine continent. the tempest increasing, and the winds contrary, we were constrained to seeke up for the port of parenzo in istria. istria was called giapidia, according to pliny; cato affirmeth it was called istria of one isiro, but by the moderne writers, l'ultima regione di italia. by ptolomeus it is sayd to be of length . miles, and forty large, but by mine experience onely . long and . large. istria hath on the south friuli and the sea: on the west stria: on the north carniola: on the east the gulfe [the antiquity of the istrians.] carnaro or quevero. it is thought the istrians were first a people of colchis in natolia, who by king �tas being sent to pursue jason and the argonauts (who had stolne the golden fleece and his daughter medea) either because of the long journey, or feare of the kings anger durst not returne, and so remained in this country, where they enjoyed a long freedom, til by many incursions of piracy, still molesting the venetians they lost many of their townes anno . & afterward the whole country made tributary by duke henry gondolo about the yeare . that part which bordereth with the sea, belongeth to the venetians, but the rest within land holds of the emperour, and the archduke of austria. the country it selfe aboundeth in cornes, wines and all kinds of fruites necessary for humane life. neare to this haven wherein we lay, expecting roome windes, i saw the ruines [justinopoli decayed.] of old justinopoli, so called of justinian the emperour, who builded it upon an iland of a miles length, and three acres broad: and to passe betwixt the city and the firme land, there was seven bridges made. it was aunciently strong, but now altogether decayed: the principall cities in istria at this day, are these, parenzo, humago, pola, rovigo. the windes favouring us, we weighed ankors, and sayled by the iles brioni, so much esteemed, for the fine stones they produce, called istriennes: which serve to beautifie the venetian palaces. about midday i saw mount di caldaro, on the foote of which, the auncient city of pola is situated, having a harbour wherein small shippes may lie. true it is, this port is not much frequented, in respect of a contageous lake neare to it, which infecteth the ayre with a filthy exhalation. i saw hard by this place, the ruines of the castell di oriando, the arke triumphant, and the reliques of a great amphitheatre. this pola was called by pliny, julia pietas; and it standeth in the south-east part of istria. continuing our course, we passed the perillous gulfe of carnaro. this gulfe or bay of carnaro, runneth in north, and by east . miles within land, at the narrow entry whereof, it hath a part of istria on the west, and the dalmatia on the east: the venetians use to keepe alwayes certaine gallies at the mouth of this bay, on the dalmatian side, to intercept the cursary of the scoks: in the bottome of this carnarian gulfe are placed senna, gradisca, and novagard, the chiefe cities of croatia: the people which inhabit these townes, and the adjoyning countrey are called scoks, a kind of dalmatians, being of a robust nature, courageous and desperate: their weapons are broad two handed swords, long skenes, carrying targets at their girdles, and long gunnes in their hands: they are marveilous swift on foote, and dayly annoy by land their neighbouring turkes with inrodes, fetching away great spoyles and booties, of [the scoks live under the house of austria.] cornes, cattell and horses: and by sea with frigots and brigantines did ever and often vexe the venetian commerce, in their owne domesticke waters: the great losses which from these incursive people the venetians had from time to time received, and the other dammages they inflicted upon the turkes in their trafficking with venice, for whom the venetians are bound by former articles of peace, to keepe harmelesse within their owne gulfe from all christian invasions, was the onely and urgent cause that moved the venetians to wage warre with ferdinando then duke of grasse, and now emperour, anno domini, . and besieged gradisca to their no small disadvantage, both of charges and losse of men: for the towne being strongly fortified with walles and munition, and . scoks within to defend it, would often at the neare approaching of the enemy make a salley forth on horse and foote, giving many miserable overthrowes to the assailants: to the which detriments, for twenty dayes space i was a testator, being after my returne from affricke in my second travels, as i was going for hungary, moldavia, valecchia and transilvania, taking this countrey in my way: and one morning at the breake of day, i saw . scoks issuing out of towne, make bloudy havocke of . of the venetian army: [croatia.] this part of croatia is exceeding fertile, abounding in cornes, wines, bestiall and pastorage, though then by lawlesse, and turbulent souldiers, it was miserable defaced. the whole number of these scoks that are able to carry armes, be not above sixe thousand men: they are wonderfull kinde to strangers, which to me in no small measure was extended, and that by the better sort their captaines and commanders, and onely for the affinity of scoki and scoti, although i dare sweare, there is little or none at all betwixt the two nations. having passed carnaro, we sayled close by the ile sangego, called formerly illrides: this isle is of circuit foure score, and of length thirty miles. our fresh water waxing scant, and the winds falling out contrary to our expectation, we sought into valdogosto in the isle of osero, which is a safe haven for ships and gallies. this osero was first named asphorus, and then absirtides, of a captaine absertus, who came from colchis, accompanied with many people, to bring backe medea to her carefull father. whose purpose being frustrated, stayed still, and inhabited this land. a fit oportunity obtained upon the [zara nova.] eighth day, we arrived in the roade of zara in dalmatia; for there the carmoesalo stayed, and i was exposed to seeke passage for ragusa. by the way, i recall the great kindnesse of that dalmatian maister, for offering my condition, i found him more then courteous, and would have no more but the halfe of that, which was his bargaine at venice. besides this, he also entertained me three dayes, with a most bountifull, and kind acceptance: my solitary travelling he oft bewailed, wishing me to desist, and never attempt such a voyage; but i giving him absolute, and constant answers, appeased his imagined sorrow. [ignorance and sloth.] true it is, that ignorance and sloth, make every thing terrible unto us, and we will not, because we dare not, and dare not, because we will not: this makes us submit our selves to any thing, that doth either flatter or threaten us: and like some sottish weakelings, that give the reines of their governement into the hands of their wives or servants, thinking then they buy their peace when they sell it; thus doe they grow upon us, i meane ignorance and sloth, and by composition, not force, become masters of the place, being just so strong, as we are weake. and as contrary newes delivered at one time, maketh one to heare with joy, and remember with sorrow; even so an unresolved man, in high and heroyicke designes, though seeming forward is distracted here, set on feare there, and rent asunder every where with the flashing frights of desperation: but a constant resolution can couragiously support all things; ubicunque homo est, ibi beneficio locus est. and congratulating this skippers courtesie, i bad farewell to his councell. zara is the capitall city of dalmatia, called of old, jadara. the inhabitants are governed by a camarlingo, or chamberlaine, in the behalfe of venice. the walles whereof are strongly rampired with earth; surpassing the tops of the stone-worke: and fortified also with high bulwarkes, and planted canons on elevated rampires of earth: which are above forty cubites higher then the walles and bulwarkes; standing in the foure severall corners of the city. there lye continually in it; a great garrison of souldiers to defend the towne and citizens, who are maintained by the duke of venice: for he is signior thereof. they have indured many invasions of the turkes, especially in the yeare one thousand five hundreth and seventy, when for the space of fourteene moneths, they were dayly molested and besieged, but the victory fell ever to the christians: if the turkes could win this place, they might easily commaund the adriaticall seas, in regard of that faire haven which is there, to receive ships and gallies; which maketh the venetians not a little fearefull because of their safeguard. yet they licentiate the neighbouring infidels to traffick with them, but when they enter the gates, they must deliver their weapons to the corporall of the squadron company: neither may they stay within all night under the paine of imprisonment. [dalmatia.] dalmatia was called so of mauritius the emperour. the foure principall provinces whereof are these, atheos, senebico, spalleto and tragurio. a part of which belongeth to venice, another part to the arch duke of austria, and a third unto the turkes. zara is distance from venice two hundreth miles. when the wandring night was chased from the inferiour ilands, by the recoursing day, and the sunne had imparted his brightnesse to our under neighbours, and our dreames ready to possesse the theater of the fancy, the wearisome creatures of the world declining to their rest; and under shaddow of the pale lady of the night; even then, from zara i imbarked in a small frigot, bound for lesina, with five slavonian marriners: who sometimes sailed, & somtimes rowed with oares: in our way we past by the ile of brazza, which is of no great quantity, but fertile enough for the inhabitants, and kept by a gentleman of venice. it lieth in the mouth of the gulfe narento, that divideth dalmatia from slavonia: many fondly conceive that these two kingdomes are all one, but i hold the contrary opinion, both by experience, and by auncient authors: having passed capo di costa, which is the beginning of slavonia, i saw upon my right hand, a round rocke of a great height, in forme of a piramide; being cognominated by easterne mariners, pomo, aunciently salyro, for the good faulcons that are bred therein. it standeth in the middest of the gulfe betweene slavonia and italy, and not habitable. a little beyond that rocke, i saw the three iles tremiti: the chiefest whereof is called teucria, but they are vulgarly called the iles of diomedes, who was king of etolia. they are right opposite to mount gargano, now called [mount s. angelo.] saint angelo, and distant from the maine land of apulia in italy about nine miles. this mount saint angelo standeth in apulia, bending in the sea with a large promontore, it is in compasse ninety miles? neare to this mountaine, was that great battell fought, betweene hanniball and the romanes: the overthrow fell to the romanes, under the conduct of paulus �milius, and other consuls, of whom were slaine fourty two thousand and seven hundred; and if hanniball had followed this victory, he had easily that day subdued the common-wealth of rome: which made maharball captaine of his horse-men rebuke him thus, vincere scis hanniball victoria uti nescis. thou canst o'recome thy foes in bloody fight, but can not use the victory aright. the like said cæsar of pompey, when he lost the first battell they fought at pharsalia in greece; o pompey, pompey, if thou hadst knowne how to have used the victory, as thou hadst it, thou mightest have beene this day lord of the whole world. [a woful battell.] so to our lamentable memory, may that last battell be recorded fought in hungary, betweene the turkes and christians, of whom maxamilian duke of isbrugh this present emperours uncle was generall: who having had a nocturnall victory, and the infidels put to the flight, they remaining in the campe more busie about the spoyles then their owne safety; the turkes returned againe before day, the christians being disordered with booties and the ravening of their whores, they put them all to the edge of the sword: o miserable confusion! little better might i speake of the battell of lepanto being abusd even in the using of it, and that glorious victory no waies followed, as good fortune had given them an awfull opportunity: for don john of austria their generall had a greater mind to seaze upon the ile of corfu, and to robbe venice of her liberty, then to prosecute with vengeance the brave beginning of so notable a victory; and yet his treachery was discoverd, and by the venetian generall speedily disappointed, to his eternall shame both wayes. the poore slavonians being fatigated in their hunger-starving boat, with extraordinary paines (for we had three daies calme, which is not usually seene in these seas) were enforced to repose all night at the barren ile of st. andrew: this ile is of circuite foure miles, but not inhabited: the excessive raine that fell in the evening, made us goe on shoare, to seeke the coverture of some rocke; which found, we lay all night on hard stones, and with hungry bellies: for our provision was spent. the breach of day giving comfort to our distressed bodies, with favourable windes at the garbo e ponente, we set forward, and about midday we arrived in the port of lesina, of which the ile taketh the name. this ile of lesina is of circuite, a hundred and fifty miles, and is the biggest iland in the adriaticke sea: it is exceeding fertile, and yeeldeth all things plentifully, that is requisite for the sustenance of man. the city is unwalled, and of no great quantity, but they have a strong fortresse, which defendeth the towne, the haven, and the vessels in the roade. the governour, who was a venetian, after he had enquired of my intended voyage, most courteously invited me three times to his table, in the time of my five dayes staying there: and at the last meeting, he reported the story of a marvellous mis-shapen creature borne in the iland, asking if i would goe thither to see it: wherewith (when i perfectly understood the matter) i was contented: the gentleman honoured me also with his company, and a horse to ride on, where when we came, the captaine called for the father of [a monster borne in lesina.] that monster, to bring him foorth before us. which unnaturall childe being brought, i was amazed in that sight, to behold the deformity of nature; for below the middle part, there was but one body, and above the middle there was two living soules, each one separated from another with severall members. their heads were both of one bignesse but different in phisnomy: the belly of the one joyned with the posterior part of the other, and their faces looked both one way, as if the one had carried the other on his backe, and often before our eyes, he that was behind, would lay his hands about the necke of the formost. their eyes were exceeding bigge, and their hands greater then an infant of three times their age. the excrements of both creatures issued foorth at one place, and their thighes and legges of a great growth, not semblable to their age, being but sixe and thirty dayes old; and their feete were proportionably made like to the foot of a cammell, round and cloven in the middest. they received their food with an insatiable desire, and continually mourned with a pitifull noyse; that sorrowfull man told us, that when the one slept, the other awaked, which was a strange disagreement in nature. the mother of them bought dearely that birth, with the losse of her owne life; as her husband reported, unspeakeable was that torment she indured, in that woefull wrestling paine. i was also informed afterwards, that this one, or rather twofold wretch lived but a short while after we saw them. leaving this monstrous shapen monster to the owne strange, and almost incredulous nativity, we returned to lesiva. but by the way of our backe comming, i remember that worthy gentleman who shewed me the ruines of an old house, where the noble [demetrius.] king demetrius was borne; and after i had yeelded by bounden and dutifull thankes unto his generous minde, i hired a fisher-boate to goe over to clissa, being twelve miles distant. this ile of clissa is of length twenty, and of circuit threescore miles: it is beautified with two profitable sea-ports, and under the signiory of venice. there are indifferent good commodities therein; upon the south side of this iland lieth the ile pelagusa, a rocky and barren place. departing from thence in a carmoesalo bound to ragusa, we sailed by the three iles, brisca, placa, igezi; and when we entred in the gulfe of cataro, we fetched up the sight of the ile melida, called of old meligna: before we could attaine unto the haven, wherein our purpose was to stay all night, we were assailed on a sudden with a deadly storme: insomuch, that every swallowing wave threatned our death, and bred in our breasts, an intermingled sorrowe of feare and hope. and yet hard by us, and within a mile to the ley-ward, a barbarian man of war of tunneis, carrying two tyre of ordonance, and . men, seaz'd upon a carmosale of venice, at the first shot, she being loaden with malvasie and muscadine and come from candy, and had us also in chase till night divided our contrary designes. the winds becomming favourable, and our double desired safety enjoyed, both because of the sea storme, and of the stormy pyrat, we set forward in the gulfe of cataro, and sayled by the [cursola.] ile cursola: in this island i saw a walled towne called curzola, which hath two strong fortresses to guard it. it is both commodious for the trafficke of merchandize they have, and also for the fine wood that groweth there, whereof the venetian ships and gallies are made: an iland no lesse pleasant then profitable; and the two governours thereof are changed every eighteene moneths, by the state of venice. it was of old called curcura, melana, and of some corcira nigra, but by the modernes, curzola. continuing our course, we passed by the iles sabionzello, torquolla, and catza augusta, appertaining to the republike of ragusa. they are all three well inhabited and fruitfull, yeelding cornes, wines, and certaine rare kinds of excellent fruites. it is dangerous for great vessels to come neere their coasts, because of the hidden shelfs that lie off in the sea, called augustini, where divers ships have beene cast away in fowle weather; upon the second day after our loosing from clissa, we arrived at ragusa. [ragusa.] ragusa is a common-weale, governed by senators, and a senate counsell; it is wonderfull strong, and also well guarded, being situate by the sea side, it hath a fine haven, and many goodly ships thereunto belonging: the greatest trafficke they have, is with the genueses: their territory in the firme land is not much in respect of the neighbouring turkes, but they have certaine commodious ilands, which to them are profitable: and notwithstanding, of the great strength and riches they possesse, yet for their better safeguard and liberty, they pay a yearly tributary pension unto the great turke, amounting to fourteene thousand chickens of gold: yea, and also they pay yearely a tributary pension unto the venetians, for the iles reserved by them in the adriaticall gulfe, so that both by sea and land they are made tributary citizens. the most part of the civill magistrates, have but the halfe of their heads bare, but the vulger sort are all shaven like to the turkes. this citty is the metropolitan of the kingdome of [slavonia.] slavonia: slavonia was first called liburnia, next, illiria, of ilirio the sonne of cadmus: but lastly, named slavonia, of certaine slaves that came from sarmatia passing the river danubio, in the time of the emperour justinian: croatia lying north-west from hence, is the third province of this auntient ilyria, and was formerly called valeria, or corvatia: it hath on the west istria and carniola: on the east and south, dalmatia: on the north north-west a part of carindia quasi carinthia, and northerly savus: so much as is called slavonia, extendeth from the river arsa in the west, the river drino in the east, on the south bordereth with the gulfe of venice, and on the north with the mountaines of croatia: these mountaines divide also ragusa from bosna. bosna is bounded on the west with croatia, and on the south with illiricum, or slavonia, on the east with servia: and on the north with the river savus. the next two speciall citties in that kingdome, are sabenica and salona. the slavonians are of a robust nature, martiall, and marvellous valiant fellowes, and a great helpe to maintaine the right and liberty of the venetian state, serving them both by sea and land, and specially upon their galleyes and men of warre. from ragusa i imbarked in a tartareta, loaden with corne, and bound to corfu, being three hundred miles distant. in all this way we found no iland, but sayled along the maine land of the illirian shoare: having passed the gulfe of cataro, and capo di fortuna, i saw castello novo: which is a strong fortresse, situate on the top of a rocke: wherein one barbarisso, the captaine of solyman, [ . spaniards starvd to death.] starved to death foure thousand spaniards. having left illiria albania, and valona behind us, we sayled by capo di palone, the large promontore of which, extendeth to eight miles in length, being the face of a square and maine rocke. this high land is the furthest part of the gulfe of venice, and opposite against capo di sancta maria in apulia, each one in sight of another, and fourteene leagues distant. continuing our navigation, we entred into the sea ionium, and sayled along the coast of epire, which was the famous kingdome of the epirotes, and the first beginning of greece. epirus is environed on the south with the sea ionian: on the east with macedon; on the west north west, with albania; and on the north, with a part of rascia, and the huge hill hæmus: of which mountaine stratonicus was wont to say, that for eight moneths in the yeare, it was exceeding cold, and for the other foure, it was winter: this long mountaine devideth also greece from mysia, called vulgarly bulgaria, lying on the north of hæmus, and to the south of danubio, even eastward to the euxine sea: which river parteth also dacia, from mysia the superiour, the which dacia being an auncient and famous countrey, containeth these provinces, transilvania, moldavia, vallachia, servia, and bosna: here in this kingdome of epyre, was the noble and valiant pirhus king, who made so great warres upon the romanes, and at last by a woman of argos was killed with a stone: the most valerous captaine george castriot surnamed [scanderberg.] scanderberg, the great terrour and scourge unto the turkes was borne here; of whom it is recorded, he slew at diverse battels with his owne hands, above three thousand turkes; obtaining also many fortunate victories against amurath and mahomet: after whose death and buriall, his body was digged up by the turkes, and joyfull was that man could get the least bit of his bones to preserve, and carry about with him, thinking thereby so long as he kept it, he should alwayes be invincible, which the turkes observe to this day, and likely to do it to their last day. and more, renoun'd epire, that gave olimpias life, great alexanders mother, phillips wife. in this countrey are these two rivers, acheron and cocytus; who for their minerall colours, and bitter tasts, were surnamed the rivers of hell; and the sacred mount pindus, celebrate to apollo and the muses so well memorized by poets, is here. it is now called mezzona, at the foote of which springeth the river of peneia, called modernely salepiros, but more properly azababa, and keeping his extreamest course through the fields of pleasure, named by the auncients tempi, being five miles long, and as much large, lying betweene the two hils osso and olympus, and watering that beautiful plaine, the faire peneian spring, or azababan river, disburdeneth it selfe in the gulfe thessalonick. this is the first kingdom of greece, and of a great length consisting betweene the west, most part of albania, as a perpendicular province annexed to it, and the arcadian alpes, which divide �tolia and acarnania, the east-most regions of it, from sparta, thessaly, and the old mirmidons countrey of macedon, amounteth to foure hundred and eight miles, lying along by the sea side, whose breadth extendeth all the way along northward to the hill hæmus, above . miles. the chiefe towne of epyre, where the kings had their residence, was called ambracia, modernely laerto named of a river running by it: and upon the sixt day after our departure from ragusa, we arrived at corfu. [the ile corfu.] corfu is an iland, no lesse beautifull, then invincible: it lieth in the sea ionean, the inhabitants are greekes, and the governours venetians: this ile was much honoured by homer, for the pleasant gardens of alcino, which were in his time. this alcino was that corcyrian poet, who so benignely received ulysses after his shipwracke, and of whom ovid said. quid bifera alcinoi referam pomaria? vosque, qui nunquam vacui prodistis in æthere rami, why blaze i forth, alcinoes fertile soyle, and trees, from whence, all times they fruit recoyle. this ile was given to the venetians by the corsicans, anno. . because they were exposed to all the injuries of the world: it lieth like to a halfe moone, or halfe a circle east and north: the easterne cape is called leuchino, the other northward, st. katerina; the second towne whereof is called pagleopoli: it is of circuite one hundred and twenty, in length fifty two, and thirty seaven in breadth, and foureteene miles distant from epyre. the city corfu, from which the ile hath the name, is situate at the foote of a mountaine, whereupon are builded two strong fortresses, and invironed with a naturall rocke: the one is called fortezza nova and the other fortezza vecchia: they are well governed, and circumspectly kept, least by the instigation of the one captaine, the other should commit any treasonable effect: and for the same purpose, the governours of both castles, at their election before the senatours of venice are sworne; neither privately, nor openly to have mutuall conference; nor to write one to another, for the space of two yeares, which is the time of their government. these castles are inaccessable, and unconquerable, if that the keepers be loyall, and provided with naturall and martiall furniture. they are vulgarly called, [two strong castles.] the forts of christendome, by the greekes; but more justly, the strength of venice: for if these castles were taken by the turkes, or by the spanyard who would as gladly have them, the trade of the venetian merchants would be of none account; yea the very meane to overthrow venice it selfe. corfu formerly corcyra. was by some called phæacia, so denominate from a virgin of that name, who was here supposed to have beene deflowred by neptune. this ile produceth good store of wines, oyle, wax, honey, and delicate fruits. from thence after certaine daies abode, i imbarked in a greekish carmesalo, with a great number of passengers, greekes, slavonians, italians, armenians, and jewes, that were all mindefull to zante, and i also of the like intent; being in all fourty eight persons: having roome windes, and a fresh gale, in . houres we discovered the ile cephalonia the greater; and sayled close along cephalonia minor, or the lesser ithaca, called now val di compare, being in length twenty, and in circuite fifty sixe miles, renowned for the birth of laertes sonne, ulysses; [ithaca where ulysses was borne.] from th'ithac rockes we fled laertes shoare, and curs'd the land, that dire ulysses bore. for ilions sake, with dardan blood attird, whose wooden horse, the trojan temples fird. on our left hand toward the maine, we saw an iland, called saint maure, formerly leucas, or leucada; which is onely inhabited by jewes, to whome bajazet the second gave it in possession, after their expulsion from spaine: the chiefe city is saint maure, which not long agoe was subject to venice. this ile saint maure was aunciently contiguate with the continent, but now rent asunder, and invironed with the sea: in this meane while of our navigable passage, the captaine of the vessell espied a saile comming from sea, he presently being moved therewith, sent a mariner to the toppe, who certified him she was a turkish galley of biserta, prosecuting a straight course to invade our barke. which sudden affrighting newes overwhelmed us almost in despare. resolution being by the amazed maister demaunded, of every man what was best to doe, some replyed one way, and some another: insomuch, that the most part of the passengers gave counsell, rather to render, then fight; being confident, their friends would pay their ransome, and so relieve them. but i the wandring pilgrime, pondering in my pensive breast, my solitary estate, the distance of my country and friends, could conceive no hope of deliverance. upon the which troublesome and fearefull appearance of slavery, [a counsell to fight.] i absolutely arose, and spoke to the maister, saying: the halfe of the carmosalo is your owne, and the most part also of the loading (all which he had told me before:) wherefore my counsell is, that you prepare your selfe to fight, and goe encourage your passengers, promise to your mariners double wages, make ready your two peeces of ordonance, your muskets, powder, lead and halfe-pikes: for who knoweth, but the lord may deliver us from the thraldome of these infidels, my exhortation ended, he was greatly animated therewith, and gave me thankes; whereupon, assembling the passengers and mariners, he gave good comfort, and large promises to them all: so that their affrighted hopes were converted to a couragious resolution; seeming rather to give the first assault, then to receive the second wrong. to performe the plots of our defence, every man was busie in the worke, some below in the gunner-roome, others cleansing the muskets, some preparing the powder and balles, some their swords, and short weapons, some dressing the halfe-pikes, & others making fast the doores above: for so the maister resolved to make combate below, both to save us from small shot, and besides for boording us on a sudden. the dexterous courage of all men was so forward to defend their lives and liberty, that truely in mine opinion we seemed thrice as many as we were. all things below and above being cunningly perfected, and every one ranked in order with his harquebuse and pike, to stand on the centinell of his owne defence, we recommended our selves in the hands of the almighty: and in the meane while attended their fiery salutations. in a furious spleene, the first hola of their courtesies, was the progresse of a martiall conflict, thundring forth a terrible noise of galley-roaring peeces. and we in a sad reply, sent out a backe-sounding eccho of fiery flying shots: which made an æquivox to the clouds, rebounding backward in our perturbed breasts, the ambiguous sounds of feare and hope. after a long and doubtfull fight, both with great and small shot (night parting us) the turkes retired till morning, and then were mindfull to give us the new rancounter of a second alarum. but as it pleased him, who never faileth his, to send downe an unresistable tempest; about the breake of day we escaped their furious designes; and were enforced to seeke into the bay of largostolo in cephalonia; both because of the violent weather, and also for that a great lake was stricken into our ship. in this fight there were of us killed three italians, two greekes, and two jewes, with eleven others deadly wounded, and i also hurt in the right arme with [a notable deliverance.] a small shot. but what harme was done by us amongst the infidels, we were not assured thereof, save onely this, we shot away their middle mast, and the hinder part of the puppe; for the greekes are not expert gunners, neither could our harquebusadoes much annoy them, in respect they never boorded. but howsoever it was, being all disbarked on shoare, we gave thanks to the lord for our unexpected safety, and buried the dead christians in a greekish church-yard, and the jewes were interred by the sea side. this bay of largastolo is two miles in length, being invironed with two little mountaines; upon the one of these two, standeth a strong fortresse, which defendeth the passage of the narrow gulfe. it was here that the christian gallies assembled, in the yeare . when they came to abate the rage of the great turks armado; which at that time lay in peterasso, in the firme land of greece, and right opposite to them; and had made conquest the yeare before, of noble cyprus from the venetians. the ile of cephalonia was formerly called ithaca, and greatly renowned, because it was the heretable kingdome of the worthy ulysses, who excelled all other greekes in eloquence and subtility of wit. secondly, by strabo it was named dulichi: and thirdly, by auncient authors [cephalonia of old ithaca.] cephalonia, of cephalo, who was captaine of the army of cleobas anfrittion. the which anfrittion, a theban captaine having conquered the iland, and slaine in battell pterelaus king of teleboas, for so then was the iland called, gave it in a gift of government to cephalo. this cephalo was a noble man of athens, who being one day at hunting killed his owne wife procris, with an arrow in steed of his prey, whereupon he flying to amphitrion, and the other pittying his case, resigned this islle to him, of whom it taketh the denomination: cephalonia lyeth in the mouth of the gulfe lepanto, opposite to a part of �tolia and acarnania in the firme land: it is in circuit . and in length . miles. the land it selfe is full of mountaines, yet exceeding fertile, yeelding malvasia, muskadine, vino leatico, raysins, olives, figges, honey, sweet-water, pine, mol-berry, date, and cypre-trees, and all other sorts of fruites in abundance. the commodity of which redounds yearely to the venetians, for they are signiors thereof. leaving this weather-beaten carmoesalo, layd up to a full sea, i tooke purpose to travell through the iland; in the first dayes journey, i past by many fine villages and pleasant fields, especially the vaile alessandro; where the greekes told me, their ancestors were vanquished in battell by the macedonian conquerour. they also shewed me on the top of mount gargasso, the ruines of that temple, which had beene of old dedicate to jupiter: and upon the second day i hired two fisher-men in a little boat, to carry me over to zante, being twenty five miles distant. here in zante a greekish chyrurgion undertooke the curing of my arme, & performed condition within time. [zante.] the ile of zante was called zacinthus, because so was called the sonne of dardanus, who reigned there. and by some hyria. it hath a citty of a great length, bordering along the sea side, the chiefe seate of the ile, & named zante, over the doore of whose prætorium or judgement hall, are inscribed these verses, hic locus, odit, amat, punit, conservat, honorat, nequitiam, pacem, crimina, jura, probos. this place, hates, loves, chastens, conserves, rewards, vice, peace, fellony, lawes, vertuous regards. and on the top of a hill, above the towne, standeth a large, and strong fortresse (not unlike the castle of milaine) wherein the providitore dwelleth, who governeth the iland. this citty is subject yearely to fearefull earthquakes, especially in the moneths of october and november, which oftentimes subvert their houses, and themselves, bringing deadly destruction on all. this ile produceth good store of rasini di corintho, commonly called currants, olives, pomgranates, cytrones, orenges, lemmons, grenadiers, and mellones, and is in compasse . miles, being distant from the fore promontore of morea some . miles. the ilanders are greekes, a kind of subtile people, and great dissemblers; but the signiory thereof belongeth to venice. and if it were not for that great provision of corne, which are dayly transported from the firme land of peleponesus to them, the inhabitants in short time would famish. it was credibly told me here by the better sort, that this little ile maketh yearely (besides oyle and wine) onely of currants . chickins, paying yearely over and above for custome . piasters, every chicken of gold being nine shillings english, and every piaster being white money sixe shillings. a rent or summe of mony which these silly ilanders could never affoord, (they being not above . yeares agoe, but a base beggarly people, and an obscure place) if it were not here in england of late for some liquorous lips, who forsooth can hardly digest bread, pasties, broth; and (verbi gratia) bag-puddings without these curraunts: and as these rascall greekes becomming proud of late with this levish expence, contemne justly this sensuall prodigality; i have heard them often demaund the english in a filthy derision, what they did with such leprous stuffe, and if they carried them home to feed their swine and hogges withall: a question indeed worthy of such a female traffike, the inference of which i suspend: there is no other nation save this, thus addicted to that miserable ile. bidding farewell to zante, i imbarked in a frigato, going to peterasso in morea, which of old was called peloponesus: and by the way in the gulfe lepanto (which divideth etolia and morea. the chiefest citty in etolia is called lepanto: from thence west-ward by the sea side, is delphos, famous for the oracle of apollo) we sayled by the iles echinidi, but by moderne writers, curzolari: where the christians obtained the victory against the turkes, for there did they fight, after this manner. [christian generalls.] in the yeare . and the sixth of october, don john of austria, generall for the spanish gallies, marco antonio colonna, for pope pio quinto; and sebastiano venieco for the venetian army, convened altogether in largostolo at cephalonia: having of all . gallies, sixe galleasses, and . frigotes. after a most resolute deliberation, these three generals went with a valiant courage to incounter with the turkish armado, on the sunday morning, the seventh of october: who in the end, through the helpe of christ, obtained a [the battell of lepanto.] glorious victory. in that fight there was taken and drowned . of turkish gallies; and there escaped about the number of sixe hundred and fifty shippes, gallies, galeotes, and other vessels: there was fifteene thousand turkes killed and foure thousand taken prisoners, besides . peeces of ordonance, and twelve thousand christians delivered from their slavish bondage. in all, the christians loosed but eleven gallies, and five thousand slaine. at their returne to largostolo, after this victorious battell, the three generals divided innumerable spoyles, to their well-deserving captaines, and worthy souldiers. and notwithstanding don john led that armado, yet ambition led him, who in the midst of that famous victory, conceaved a treacherous designe, to seaze upon the castles of corfu, under shew of the venetian colors, which being discoverd, and he disappointed, died for displeasure in his returne to messina in sicilia; where there his statue standeth to this day. after my arrivall in peterasso, the metropolitan of peloponesus, i left the turmoyling dangers of the intricated iles, of the ionean and adriaticall seas, and advised to travell in the firme land of greece, with a caravan of greekes that was bound for athens. peterasso is a large and spacious city, full of merchandize, and greatly beautified with all kind of commercers, their chiefe commodities, are raw silkes, cloth of gold and silver, silken-growgranes, rich-damas, velvets of all kinds, with sattins and taffeties, and especially a girnell for grayne: the venetians, ragusans, and marseillians have great handling with them: here i remember there was an english factor lying, whom the subbassa or governour of the towne a turke, caused privately afterward upon malice to be poysoned, even when i was wintering at constantinople, for whose death the worthy and generous ambassadour, sir thomas glover my patrone and protector, was so highly incensed, that he went hither himselfe to peterasso, with two jannizaries, and a warrant sent with him from the emperour, who in the midst of the market-place of peterasso, caused one of these two janizaries, strike off the head from the shoulders of that sanzack; and put to death divers others also that had beene accessary to the poysoning of the english consul; and the ambassadour returning againe to constantinople, was held in singular reputation even with the turkes, for prosecuting so powerfully the course of justice, and would not shrinke for no respect, i being domestick with him the selfe same time. [morea in greece.] peloponnesus now called morea, a peninsula, is all invironed with the sea, save onely at a narrow strait, where it is tied to the continent by an istmus of five miles in breadth: which the venetians then lord of it, fortified with five castles, and a strong wall from creeke to creeke, which easily were subverted by the turkish batteries, the defect onely remaining in the defendants weaknesse, and want of men: corinth and its gulfe, lyeth at the east end of this istmus, and the gulfe lepanto on the west, dividing �tolia and epyre: the wall which traversed this strait of morea, was called hexamite, five miles long: truely it is one of the most famous distroit du terre en europe. morea it selfe is in length . and in compasse . miles, and is at this day, the most fertile, and best inhabited province of all the empyre of greece: the chiefe rivers here, are arbona and ropheos: argos here also is watered with the river planizza, neare which standeth the towne of epidaure, wherein the temple of esculapius was so renowned for restoring of health to diseased persons. it was anciently cognominate agalia from agalius the first king, anno mundi . and also intituled from two kings sicionia, and apia, then peloponesus from pelops, and now moreah. it is divided in five territories or petty provinces, laconia, arcadia, argolis, misenia, and eliso, the proper territory of corinth. of which city it was sayd, hor. let men take heed of lais, corinths whoore, who earn'd ten thousand drachmas in an houre. it is sayd by �neas silvius in his cosmographicall treatise of europe that divers kings went about to digge [the strait of morea.] through this istmus to make it an iland, namely king demetrius, julius cæsar, caius caligula, and domitius nero: of all whome he doth note that they not onely failed of their purpose, but that they came to violent and unnaturall deaths. but before the aforesayd caravan at peterasso admitted me into his company, he was wonderfull inquisitive, to know for what cause i travelled alone? & of what nation i was? to whom i soberly excused, and discovered my selfe with modest answers. which pacified his curiosity; but not his avaritious minde: for under a pretended protection he had of me, he extorted the most part of my money from my purse, without any regard of conscience. in the first, second, and third dayes journeying, we had faire way, hard lodging, but good cheere, and kind entertainement for our money, which was the countrey laconia. but on the fourth day, when we entred in the hilly and barren countrey of arcadia; where, for a dayes journey we had no village, but saw abundance of cattell without keepers; and in that place it is thought the great battell of pharsalia was fought betweene julius cæsar, and pompey the great. [arcadia.] arcadia is bounded on the east with eliso, on the west with misenia, on the north with achaia inferiour, and on the south with a part of laconia and the sea: it was formerly termed pelasgia, and lastly it tooke the name from arcas the sonne of jupiter and calisto, the people whereof, did long imagine they were more auncient then the moone; this soyle of whom arcas great patrone was, in age the moone excell'd, in wit the asse. but because it is a tradition of more antiquity then credit, i doe rather note it, then affirme it: and as men should dread the thunder-bolt, when they see the lightning, so ignorance and idolatry placed amongst us, and round about us, may be a warning to the professours of the trueth, to take heed of the venome, least by their arcadian antiquitie surpassing the moone, they become novices to some new intended massacre, for as powder faild them, but alas, not poison! so now with policy they prevaile in all things: how long the holy one of israell knoweth, but certainely, our sinnes are the causes of their domineering and of our carelesse drouping. in this desart way, i beheld many singular monuments, and ruinous castles, whose names i knew not, because i had an ignorant guide: but this i remember, amongst these rockes my belly was pinched, and wearied was my body, with the climbing of fastidious mountaines, which bred no small griefe to my breast. yet notwithstanding of my distresse, the rememberance of these sweet seasoned songs of arcadian sheepheards which pregnant poets have so well penned, did recreate my fatigated corps with many sugred suppositions. these sterile bounds being past, we entred in the easterne plaine of morea, called aunciently sparta, where that sometimes famous citty of lacedemon flourished, but now sacked, and the lumpes of ruines and memory onely remaines. marching thus, we left modena and napoli on our right hand, toward the sea side, and on the sixt day at night, we pitched our tents in the disinhabited villages of argo and micene, from the which unhappy helen was ravished. [the rapt of helen.] this cursed custome of base prostitution, is become so frequent, that the greater sort of her mercenary sexe, following her footsteps, have out-gone her in their loathsom journeies of libidinous wayes: she being of such an infinite and voluptuous crew, the arch mistresse and ring-leader to destruction, did invite my muse to inveigh against her lascivious immodesty, as the inordinate patterne of all willing and licentious rapts: i would thy beauty (fairest of all dames) had never caus'd the jealous greekes to move thy eyes from greece, to ilion cast flames, and burnt that trojan, with adulterate love: he captive like, thy mercy came to prove and thou divorc'd, was ravish'd with a toy: he swore faire helen was his dearest dove and thou a paris swore for to enjoy: mourne may the ghosts, of sometimes stately troy. and curse that day, thou saw the phirigian coast: thy lecherous lust, did priams pride destroy, and many thousands, for thy sake were lost. was't nature, fortune, fancy, beauty, birth, that cros'd thee so, to be a crosse on earth. some of thy sexe, baptiz'd with thy curst name, crown'd with thy fate, are partners in thy shame. helens are snakes, which breeds their lovers paine, the maps of malice, murther and disdaine: helens are gulfes, whence streames of blood do flow rapine, deceit, treason, and overthrow: helens are whoores, whiles in a virgin maske, they sucke from pluto sterne proserpines taske: curst be thou hell, for hellish helens sakes, still crost and curst, be they, that trust such snakes. here in argos i had the ground to be a pillow, and the world-wide-fields to be a chamber, the whirling windy-skies, to be a roofe to my winter-blasted lodging, and the humide vapours of cold nocturna, to accompany the unwished-for-bed of my repose. what shall i say then, the solid, and sad man, is not troubled with the floods and ebbes of fortune, the ill imployed power of greatnesse, nor the fluctuary motions of the humerous multitude; or at least, if he be sensible of his owne, or their irregularities, or confusions, yet his thoughts are not written in his face, his countenance is not significant, nor his miseries further seene than in his owne private suffering; whereas the face and disposition of the feeble one, ever resembleth his last thoughts, and upon every touch, or taste of that which is displeasant and followes not the streames of his appetite, his countenance deformeth it selfe, and like the moone, is in as many changes as his fortune, but the noble resolution must follow �neas advice in all his adventures; per varios casus, per tot discrimina rerum, tendimus in latium, &c. by diverse wayes, and dangers great we mind, to visit latium, and latinus kind. in all this countrey of greece i could finde nothing, to answer the famous relations, given by auncient authors, of the excellency of that land, but the name onely; the barbarousnesse of turkes and time, having defaced all the monuments of antiquity: no shew or honour, no habitation of men in an honest fashion, nor possessours of the countrey in a principality. but rather prisoners shut up in prisons, or addicted slaves to cruell and tyrannicall maisters: so deformed is the state of that once worthy realme, and so miserable is the burthen of that afflicted people: which, and the apparance of that permanency, grieved my heart to behold the sinister working of blind fortune, which alwayes plungeth the most renowned champions, and their memory, in the profoundest pit of all extremities and oblivion. [greeke champions.] let the ghosts of that theban epaminondas, that mirmidonian phillip, & these epirean worthies, pyrhus and scanderberg, be witnesses hereto; but especially, that macedonian alexander, whose fortunes ever followed him, rather than fled him til his last dissolution; wherein i may say his greatnesse rose; like to a mighty and huge oke, being cled with the exuvials, and trophees of enemies fenced with an army of boughes garnished with a coat of barke as hard as steele; despising the force and power of the winds, as being onely able to dally with the leaves, and not to weaken the roote: but the northerne wind, that strong champion of the airy region, secretly lurking in the vault of some hollow cloude, doth first murmure at this aspiring oke, and then striketh his crest with some greater strength; and lastly, with the deepest breath of his lungs, doth blow up the roote: even so was it with alexander, who from a stripling came to be a cedar, and from the sorrow of no more worlds, was soone cut off from the world he was into: for destiny is no mans drudge, and death is every mans conquerour, matching the scepter, with the spade, and the crowned prince with the praislesse peasant: and in a word, there was never any to whom fortune did sooner approach, nor never any from whom she did more suddenly flee, then from alexander, leaving him a cleare mirrour of the worlds inconstancy. now as concerning the government of greece, tearmd by the turkes, rum ili, that is, the romane country: [the beglerbeg of greece.] it is ruled by a beglerbeg, or bassa, this word beglerbeg imports, lord of lords, in regard of the sanzacks, or subbassaes under them, who also are tearmed lords; which is a barbarous pride in an ambitious style: this beglerbeg of greece, retaineth his residence at sophia the metropole of bulgaria, formerly dacia, and is the greatest commaunder of all other bassaes in the turkish provinces of europe. all other beglerbegs are changed every third yeare, or continued according to the imperiall pleasure, neither may they returne from their station during this time. but this bassa of greece, keepeth his government for his life-time, and remaineth most at court: he reserveth under his commaund, fourty thousand timariots or horsemen; led under the conduct of twenty two sanzacks, or judges deputies of jurisdictions; to wit, two in albania, at the townes iscodera, and ancolina: two in achaia, at delvina, and albassan: three in thessalia, at priasim, salonica, and trichola: two in sparta, at misietra and paleopatra: three in macedonia, at carmona, selistria, and giastandila: one in moldavia, at acheranma: in bulgaria, one at sophia: in thracia, one at viazza: in epyre, one at ducagina: in �tolia, one at joanina: in peleponesus, one at peterasso: the rest are usopia, nycopolis, corinth, and bandera towards the black-sea, and to the northward of danubio, at his kissing the euxine waves: this much for the beglerbeg ship of greece, and the provinces thereunto adjoyning. departing from argos, upon the seventh day we arrived at [athens.] athens: athens is still inhabited, standing in the east part of peloponnesus, neere to the frontiers of macedon, or thessaly by the sea side. it was first called cecropia: of one cecrops the first king thereof, who first founded it, anno mundi, . it was after mightily inlarged by theseus, and well provided with good lawes by solon, and lastly athens of minerva: in whose honour for a long time were celebrate solemne playes, called panathanaia: athens is now termed salenos, and was once the shrill sounding trumpet of mars, yeelding more valiant captaines and commanders then any city in the world, rome excepted: it was a custome here, that when any man was growne too wealthy or potent, he was banished thence for ten yeares: this exile was intituled ostracisme, because his name who was abandoned was written in an oyster-shell: great combustions and mutinies have happened betweene lacedemon, and athens; at last it was sacked by lysander, and her virgin body prostituted to the lust of . insulting tyrants; not long after whose expulsion, it was utterly subdued by the macedonians. and in a word athens being stayned with intestine blood-sheds, and grievously discontented with the death of her children; her babes were brought forth, for the sword to glut upon, the bodies of her auncients were made as pavements to walke upon, her matrones became a prey and prise to every ravisher, and her priests and sacrificers were slaine before the gates of their temples. this city was the mother & well-spring of all liberall arts and sciences; and the great cisterne of europe, whence flowed so many conduit pipes of learning all where, but now altogether decayed: the circuit of old athens hath beene according to the fundamentall walles yet extant about sixe italian miles, but now of no great quantity, nor many dwelling houses therein; being within two hundreth fire houses, having a castle which formerly was the temple of minerva. they have abundance of all things, requisite for the sustenance of humane life, of which i had no small proofe: for these athenians or greekes, exceeding kindly banqueted me foure dayes, and furnish't me with necessary provision for my voyage to creta. and also transported me by sea in a brigandine freely, and on their owne charges to serigo, being . miles distant. after my redounded thankes, they having returned, the contemplation on their courtesies, brought me in rememberance, how curious the old athenians were to heare of forraine newes, & with what great regard & estimation they honoured travellers, of which as yet, they are no wayes defective. [serigo.] serigo is an iland in the sea cretico: it was aunciently called cytherea, of cithero the sonne of phænise: and of aristotle porphyris, or schotera, in respect of the fine marble that is got there: it is of circuit threescore miles having but one castle called capsallo, which is kept by a venetian captaine: here it is sayd that venus did first inhabit, and i saw the ruines of her demolished temple, on the side of a mountaine yet extant. a little more downeward below this old adored temple of venus, are the relickes of that palace, wherein menalaus did dwell, who was king of sparta, and lord of this ile. the greekes of the ile told me there were wild asses there, who had a stone in their heads, which was a soveraigne remedy for the falling sicknesse, and good to make a woman be quickly delivered of her birth. i made afterward deeper enquiry for it, to have either seene or bought it, but for my life i could never attaine to any perfect knowledge thereof. in the time of my abode, at the village of capsalo (being a haven for small barkes, and situate below the castle) the captaine of that same fortresse [a priest slaine in a bordell.] kild a seminary priest, whom he had found in the night with his whoore in a brothel-house: for the which sacrilegious murther, the governour of the ile deposed the captaine, and banished him, causing a boate to be prepared to send him to creta. o! if all the priests which doe commit incest, adultery, and fornication (yea, and worse, il peccato carnale contra natura) were thus handled and severely rewarded; what a sea of sodomiticall irreligious blood would overflow the halfe of europe, to staine the spotted colour of that romane beast. truely, and yet more, these lascivious friars are the very epicures, or off-scourings of the earth; for how oft have i heard them say one to another? allegre, allegre, mio caro fratello, chi ben mangia, ben beve, &c. that is, be cheerefull, be cheerefull, deare brother, he that eateth well, drinketh well, he that drinketh well, sleepeth well, he that sleepeth well, sinneth not, and he that sinneth not, goeth straight through purgatory to paradize. this is all the care of their living, making their tongues to utter what their hearts do thus prophanely thinke, ede, bibe, dormi, post mortem nulla voluptas, and as it is well observed of this monachall and licentious life: non male sunt monachis, grato indita nomina patrum, cum numerent natos, hic & ubique suos. injustly, no! monkes be cal'd fathers, why? their bastards swarme, as thicke, as starres in sky. in the aforesayd boat i also imbarked with the captaine, and sailed by the little isoletta of serigota: leaving capo di spada on our left hand, we arrived at carabusa with extreme fortune, being fiercely persued by three turkish galleots. betweene serigo and carabusa we had seven score and twelve miles of dangerous and combustious seas. the third part now creta comes, the mediterren queene, to my sought view, where golden ida's seene: cut with the labrinth of th' old minatoure, thence tracd i all, the syclads fifty foure: with nigropont and thessaly amaine, macedon, pernassus, the achaian plaine; tenedos and troy, long phrigia sixt, sestos, abidos, adrianopole vext; colchis, falne thebes, hellespont, and more, constantinople, earths best soveraigne glore: the euxine sea, and pompeys pillar prest, in peru then, ile take my winters rest. the ile of candy formerly called creta, hath to the north the �gean sea, to the west the sea ionian; to the south the libique sea, and to the east, the carpathian sea: it lieth midway twixt achaia in greece and cyrene in affrick, not being distant from the one, nor from the other, above two dayes sayling: it is a most famous and auncient kingdome: by moderne writers, it is called queene of [the antiquity of candy.] the iles mediterrene: it had of olde an hundreth citties, whereof it had the name hecatompolis, but now onely foure, candia, canea, rethimos, and scythia, the rest are but villages and bourges. it is of length, to wit, from capo ermico in the west, called by pliny, frons arietis, and capo salomone in the east, two hundreth and forty miles, large threescore, and of circuit sixe hundreth and fifty miles. this is the chiefe dominion, belonging to the venetian reipublique: in every one of these foure citties, there is a governour, and two counsellors, sent from venice every two yeares. the countrey is divided into foure parts, under the jurisdiction of the foure citties, for the better administration of justice: and they have a generall, who commonly remaineth in the citty of candy (like to a viceroy) who deposeth, or imposeth magistrates, captaines, souldiers, officers, and others whatsoever, in the behalfe of saint marke or duke of venice. the venetians detaine continually a strong guard, divided in companies, squadrons, and garrisons, in the citties and fortresses of the iland: which do extend to the number of . souldiers, kept, not onely for the incursion of turks, but also for feare of the creets or inhabitants, who would rather (if they could) render to the turke, then to live under the subjection of venice, thinking thereby to have more liberty, & lesse taxed under the infidell, then now they are under the christian. this ile produceth the best malvasy, muscadine and leaticke wines, that are in the whole universe. it yeeldeth orenges, lemmons, mellons, cytrons, grenadiers, adams apples, raisins, olives, dates, hony, sugar, vua di tre volte, and all other kindes of fruite in abundance. but the most part of the cornes are brought yearely from archipelago and greece. [the rivers of candy.] the chiefe rivers are cataracho, melipotomos, escasino; being all of them shallow and discommodious for shipping, in respect of their short courses, and rocky passages: and the principall citties of olde, were gnassus, where minos kept his court, . cortina, . aphra and cydonia. this countrey was by marcellus made subject to the romanes: it was afterward given by baldwin earle of flanders, the first latin emperor of constantinople to boniface of montserrat, who sold it, anno . to the venetians. this much of the ile in generall; and now in respect of my travelling two times through the bounds of the whole kingdome, which was never before atchieved by any traveller in christendome; i will as briefly as i can in particular, relate a few of these miseries indured by me in this land, with the nature & quality of the people. this aforesaid carabusa, is the principall fortresse of creta, being of it selfe invincible, and is not unlike to the castle of dunbertan, which standeth at the mouth of clyd; upon which river [the old and famous city of lanerke.] the auncient city of lanerke is situated: for this fort is environed with a rocke higher then the wals, and joyneth close with capo ermico: having learned of the theevish way i had to canea, i advised to put my mony in exchange, which the captaine of that strength very curteously performed; and would also have diswaded me from my purpose, but i by no perswasion of him would stay. from thence departing, all alone, scarcely was i advanced twelve miles in my way, when i was beset on the skirt of a rocky mountaine; with three greeke murdering renegadoes, and an italian bandido: who laying hands on me, beate me most cruelly, robbed me of all my clothes, and stripped me naked, threatning me with many grievous speeches. at last the respective italian, perceiving i was a stranger, and could not speake the cretan tongue, began to aske me in his owne language, where was my money? to whom i soberly answered, i had no more then he saw, which was fourescore bagantines: which scarcely amounted to two groats english: but he not giving credit to these words, searched all my clothes and budgeto, yet found nothing except my linnen, and letters of recommendations i had from divers princes of christendome, especially the duke of venice, whose subjects they were, if they had beene lawfull subjects: which when he saw, did move him to compassion, and earnestly entreated the other three theeves to grant me mercy, and to save my life: [a happy deliverance.] a long deliberation being ended, they restored backe againe my pilgrimes clothes, and letters, but my blew gowne and bagantines they kept: such also was their theevish courtesie toward me, that for my better safegard in the way, they gave me a stamped piece of clay, as a token to shew any of their companions, if i encountred with any of them; for they were about twenty rascalles of a confederate band, that lay in this desart passage. leaving them with many counterfeit thankes, i travelled that day seaven and thirty miles, and at night attained to the unhappy village of pickehorno: where i could have neither meate, drinke, lodging, nor any refreshment to my wearied body. these desperate candiots thronged about me, gazing (as though astonished) to see me both want company, and their language, and by their cruell lookes, they seemed to be a barbarous and uncivill people: [cruell candiots.] for all these high-landers of candy, are tyrannicall, blood-thirsty, and deceitfull. the consideration of which and the appearance of my death, signed to me secretly by a pittifull woman, made me to shun their villany in stealing forth from them in the darke night, and privately sought for a secure place of repose in a umbragious cave by the sea side, where i lay till morning with a fearefull heart, a crased body, a thirstie stomacke, and a hungry belly. upon the appearing of the next aurora, and when the welkin, had put aside the vizard of the night, the starres being coverd, and the earth discoverd by the sunne; i imbraced my unknowne way, and about midday came to canea: [invinceable canea.] canea is the second citie of creete, called aunciently cydon, being exceeding populous, well walled, and fortified with bulwarkes: it hath a large castle, containing ninety seaven pallaces, in which the rector and other venetian gentlemen dwell. there lye continually in it seaven companies of souldiers who keepe centinell on the walles, guarde the gates and market places of the citie: neither in this towne nor candia, may any countrey peasant enter with weapons (especially harquebuzes) for that conceived feare they have of treason. truely this city may equall in strength, either zara in dalmatia, or luka, or ligorne, both in tuscana, or matchlesse palma in friuly: for these five cities are so strong, that in all my travells i never saw them matched. they are all well provided with abundance of artilery, and all necessary things for their defence, especially luka, which continually reserves in store provision of victuals for twelve yeares siege. in my first abode in canea, being a fortnight, there came . gallies from venice, upon one of which there was a young french gentleman, a protestant, borne neare monpeillier in langadocke; who being by chance in company with other foure of his countrey-men in venice, one of them killed a young noble venetian, about the quarrell of a courtezan: whereupon they flying to the french ambassadours house, the rest escaped, and he onely apprehended by a fall in his flight, was afterward condemned by the senatours to the galleys induring life. now the galleys lying here sixe dayes, he got leave of the captaine to come a shoare with a keeper, when he would, carrying an yron bolt on his legge: in which time we falling in acquaintance, he complained heavily of his hard fortune, and how because he was a protestant, (besides his slavery) he was severely abused in the galley; [a religious comfort.] sighing forth these words with teares, lord have mercy upon me, and graunt me patience, for neither friends, nor money can redeeme me: at which expression i was both glad and sorrowfull, the one moving my soule to exult in joy for his religion: the other, for his misfortunes, working a christian condolement for intolerable affliction: for i was in venice, at that same time when this accident fell out, yet would not tell him so much: but pondering seriously his lamentable distresse, i secretly advised him the manner how he might escape, and how farre i would hazard the liberty of my life for his deliverance, desiring him to come a shoare earely the next morning. meane while i went to an old greekish woman, with whom i was friendly inward, for she was my landresse; and reciting to her the whole businesse, she willingly condiscended to lend me an old gowne, and a blacke vaile for his disguisement. the time come, and we met, the matter was difficult to shake off the keeper; but such was my plot, i did invite him to the wine, where after tractall discourses, and deepe draughts of leatick, reason failing, sleepe overcame his sences. whereupon conducting my friend to the appointed place, i disburdened him of his irons, clothed him in a female habite, and sent him out before me, conducted by the greekish woman: and when securely past both guards and gate, i followed, carrying with me his clothes: where, when accoasting him by a field of olives, and the other returned backe, we speedily crossed the vale of suda, and interchanging his apparrell, i directed him the way over [a place of refuge.] the mountaines to a greekish convent on the south side of the land, a place of safeguard, called commonly the monastery of refuge; where he would kindly be entertained, till either the galleys, or men of warre of malta arrived: it being a custome at their going, or comming from the levante to touch here, to relieve and carry away distressed men: this is a place whereunto bandits, men slayers, and robbers repaire for reliefe. and now many joyfull thanks from him redounded, i returned keeping the high way, where incontinent i encountred two english souldiers, john smith, and thomas hargrave, comming of purpose to informe me of an eminent danger, shewing me that all the officers of the galleys, with a number of souldiers were in searching the city, and hunting all over the fields for me: after which relation, consulting with them, what way i could come to the italian monastery saint salvator, for there i lay; (the vulgar towne affording neither lodging nor beds). they answered me, they would venture their lives for my liberty, and i should enter at the easterne (the least frequented) gate of the city, where three other english men were that day on guard, for so there were five of them here in garison: where, when we came, the other english accompanied with eight french souldiers their familiars, came along with us also: and having past the market place, and neere my lodging, foure officers and sixe galley souldiers, runne to lay hands on me: whereat the english and french unsheathing their swords, valiantly resisted their fury, and deadly wounded two of the officers: meane while fresh supply comming from the galleys, john smith runne along with me to the monastery, leaving the rest at pell mell, to intercept their following: at last the captaines of the garrison approaching the tumult, relieved their owne souldiers, and drove backe the other to the galleys. a little thereafter the generall of the galleys come to the monastery, and examined me concerning the fugitive, but i cleering my selfe so, and quenching the least suspition he might conceive (notwithstanding of mine accusers) hee could lay nothing to my charge: howsoever it was, he seemed somewhat favourable; partly, because i had the duke of venice his pasport, partly, because of mine intended voyage to jerusalem; partly, because he was a great favourer of the french nation: and partly because he could not mend himselfe, in regard of my shelter, and the governours favour: yet neverthelesse, i detained my selfe under [cloysters are safeguards.] safeguard of the cloyster, untill the galleys were gone. being here disappointed of transportation to archipelago, i advised to visit candy: and in my way i past by the large haven of suda, which hath no towne or village, save onely a castle, situated on a rocke in the sea, at the entry of the bay: the bounds of that harbour may receive at one time above two thousand shippes and galleys, and is the onely key of the iland: for the which place, the king of spaine hath oft offered an infinite deale of money to the venetians, whereby his navy which sometimes resort in the levante, might have accesse and reliefe; but they would never graunt him his request; which policy of his was onely to have surprized the kingdome. south-west from this famous harbour, lieth a pleasant plaine surnamed [the pleasant valley of suda.] the valley of suda: it is twenty italian miles long, and two of breadth: and i remember, or i discended to crosse the valley, and passe the haven, me thought the whole planure resembled to me a greene sea; and that was onely by reason of infinite olive trees grew there, whose boughes and leaves over-toppe all other fructiferous trees in that plaine: the villages for losse of ground are all built on the skirts of rockes, upon the south side of the valley; yea, and so difficile to climbe them, and so dangerous to dwell in them, that me thought their lives were in like perill, as he who was adjoyned to sit under the poynt of a two handed sword, and it hanging by the haire of a horse tayle. trust me, i told along these rockes at one time, and within my sight, some . villages; but when i entred the valley, i could not find a foote of ground unmanured, save a narrow passing way wherein i was: the olives, pomgranets, dates, figges, orenges, lemmons, and pomi del adamo growing all through other: and at the rootes of which trees grew wheate, malvasie, muscadine, leaticke wines, grenadiers, carnobiers, mellones, and all other sorts of fruites and hearbes, the earth can yeeld to man; that for beauty, pleasure, and profit it may easily be surnamed, the garden of the whole universe: being the goodliest plot, the diamond sparke, and the honny spot of all candy: there is no land more temperate for ayre, for it hath a double spring-tyde; no soyle more fertile, and therefore it is called the combat of bachus and ceres; nor region or valley more hospitable, in regard of the sea, having such a noble haven cut through its bosome, being as it were the very resting place of neptune. upon the third dayes journey from canea, i came to rethimos; this city is somewhat ruinous, and unwalled, but the citizens have newly builded a strong fortresse, but rather done by the state of venice, which defendeth them from the invasion of pyrats: it standeth by the sea side, and in the yeare . it was miserably sacked, and burned with turkes. continuing my voyage, i passed along the skirt of [mount ida.] mount ida, accompanied with greekes, who could speake the italian tongue, on which, first they shewed me the cave of king minos, but some hold it to be the sepulcher of jupiter. that groto was of length eighty paces, and eight large: this minos was sayd to be the brother of radamanthus, and sarpedon; who, after their succession to the kingdome, established such æquitable lawes, that by poets they are feigned with �acus to be the judges of hell. i saw also there, the place where jupiter (as they say) was nourished by amalthes, which by greekes is recited, as well as latine poets. thirdly, they shewed me the temple of saturne, which is a worke to be admired, of such antiquity, and as yet undecayed; who (say they) was the first king that inhabited there, and father to jupiter. and neare to it is the demolished temple of matelia, having this superscription above the doore, yet to be seene: make cleane your feete, wash your hands and enter. fourthly, i saw the entry into the [dedalus laborinth.] laborinth of dedalus, which i would gladly have better viewed, but because we had no candle-light, we durst not enter: for there are many hollow places within it: so that if a man stumble, or fall, he can hardly be rescued: it is cut forth with many intricating wayes, on the face of a little hill, joyning with mount ida, having many doores and pillars. here it was where theseus by the helpe of ariadne the daughter of king minos, taking a bottome of threed, and tying the one end at the first doore, did enter and slay the minotaurus, who was included there by dedalus: this minotaure is sayd to have bene begot by the lewd and luxurious pasiphae, who doted on a white bull. mount ida is the highest mountaine in creta, and by the computation of shepheards feete, amounteth to sixe miles of height: it is over-clad even to the toppe with cypre trees, and good store of medicinable hearbes: insomuch that the beasts which feede thereupon, have their teeth gilded, like to the colour of gold: mount ida, of old was called phelorita, by some cadussa, but modernely madura: it is sayd by some historians, that no venemous animall can live in this ile; but i saw the contrary: [historian errours.] for i kild on a sunday morning hard by the sea-side, and within two miles of rethimos, two serpents and a viper: one of which serpents, was above a yard and halfe in length, for they being all three rolling within the coverture of the dry sands, my right legge was almost in their reverence before i remarked the danger: wherefore many build upon false reports, but experience teacheth men the trueth. some others also historize, that if a woman here, bite a man any thing hard, he will never recover: and that there is an hearbe called allimos in this iland, which if one chaw in his mouth, he shall not feele hunger for foure and twenty howres: all which are meere fabulous, such is the darkenesse of cloudy inventions. descending from this mountaine, i entred in a faire plaine, beautified with many villages; in one of which, i found a grecian bishop, who kindly presented me with grapes of malvasie, and other things, for it was in the time of their vintage. to carry these things he had given me, he caused to make ready an asse, and a servant, who went with me to candy, which was more then fifteene miles from his house. true it is, that the best sort of greekes, in visiting other, doe not use to come empty handed, neither will they suffer a stranger to depart without both gifts and convoy. i remember along this sassinous and marine passage, i found three fountaines gushing forth of a rocke, each one within a yard of other, having three sundry tasts: the first water was exceeding light, and sweet; the middle or second, marvelous sowre and heavy: the third was bitter and extraordinary salt: so that in so short bounds so great difference, i never found before, nor afterward. [the city of candy.] candy is distant from canea a hundreth miles, rethimos being halfe way betwixt both: so is candy halfe way in the same measure, twixt rethimos and scythia, and canea the like twixt rethimos and carabusa, being in all . miles. candy is a large and famous city, formerly called matium, situated on a plaine by the sea side, having a goodly haven for shippes, and a faire arsenall wherein are . gallies: it is exceeding strong, and dayly guarded with . souldiers, and the walles in compasse are about three leagues. in this time there was no viceroy, the former being newly dead, and the place vacant, the souldiers kept a bloody quarter among themselves, or against any whomsoever their malignity was intended, for in all the time i stayed there being ten dayes, it was nothing to see every day foure or five men killed in the streetes: neither could the rector, nor the captaines helpe it, so tumultuous were the disordered souldiers, and the occasions of revenge and quarrellings so influent. this commonly they practise in every such like vacation, which otherwise, they durst never attempt without death, and severe punishment; and truely me thought it was as barbarous a governed place for the time, as ever i saw in the world: for hardly could i save my owne life free from their dangers, in the which i was twice miserably involved. [distances from candy.] candy is distant from venice . miles, from constantinople . from famagusta in cyprus, . from alexandria in �gypt, . from tripoli in siria . from naples . from malta . from smyrna, in carmania of natolia . and from the citty of jerusalem, . miles. the candeots through all the iland, make muster every eight day, before the serjant-majors, or officers of the generall, and are well provided with all sorts of armour; yea, and the most valerous people that hight the name of greekes. it was told me by the rector of candy, that they may raise in armes of the inhabitants (not reckoning the garrisons) above sixty thousand men, all able for warres, with . gallies, and . galleots for the sea. in all my travels through this realme, i never could see a greeke come forth of his house unarmed: and after such a martiall manner, that on his head he weareth a bare steele cap, a bow in his hand, a long sword by his side, a broad ponard overthwart his belly, and a round target hanging at his girdle. they are not costly in apparell, for they weare but linnen cloathes, and use no shooes but bootes of white leather, to keepe their legges in the fields from the prickes of a kind of thistle, wherewith the countrey is overcharged like unto little bushes or short shrubs which are marvelous sharpe, and offensive unto the inhabitants, whereof, often a day to my great harme, i found their bloody smart: the women generally weare linnen breaches as men do, and bootes after the same manner, and their linnen coates no longer then the middle of their thighes, and are insatiably inclined to venery, such is the nature of the soyle and climate. the [creets turnd critticks.] auncient cretans were such notable lears, that the heathen poet epimenides, yea, and the apostle paul in his epistle to titus, did tearme them to have beene ever liers, evill beasts, and slow bellies: whence sprung these proverbs, as cretense mendacium, & cretisandum est cum cretensibus. the candiots are excellent good archers, surpassing all the orientall people therein, couragious and valiant upon the sea, as in former times they were; and they are naturally inclined to singing: so that commonly after meat, man, wife, and child of each family, will for the space of an houre, sing with such a harmony, as is wonderfull melodious to the hearer; yea, and they cannot forgoe the custome of it. their harvest is our spring: for they manure the ground, and sow the seed in october, which is reaped in march, and aprill. being frustrate of my intention at candy, i was forced to returne to canea the same way i went: when come, i was exceeding merry with my old friends the english-men: meane-while there arrived from tunnis in barbary, [an english runagate.] an english runagate named wolson, bound for the rhodes: where after short acquaintance with his natives, and understanding what i was, he imparted these words, i have had my elder brother, sayd he, the maister (or captaine) of a ship, slaine at burnt-iland in scotland by one called keere; and notwithstanding he was beheaded, i have long since sworne to be revenged of my brothers death, on the first scotsman i ever saw or met, and my designe is, to stob him with a knife this night, as he goeth late home to his lodging desiring their assistance: but smith, hargrave, and horsfeild refused, yet cooke and rollands yeelded. meane-while smith knowing where i used sometimes to diet, found me at supper in a sutlers, a souldiers house, where acquainting me with this plot, the hoste, he, and three italian souldiers conveighed me to my bed, passing by the arch-villaine, and his confederats, where he was prepared for the mischiefe: which when he saw his treachery was discovered, he fled away, & was seene no more here. remarking the fidelity and kindnesse that smith had twice shewen me, first in freeing me from the danger of galley-slavery, and now in saving my life, i advised to doe him a good deed in some part of acquittance, and thus it was: [smith relieved from long bondage.] at his first comming to venice, he was taken up as a souldier for candy: where, when transported, within a small time he found the captaines promise and performance different, which enforced him at the beginning to borrow a little money of his lieutenant: the five yeares of their abode expired, and fresh companies come from venice to exhibit the charge, smith not being able to discharge his debt, was turned over to the new captaine for five yeares more, who payed the old captaine his mony; and his time also worne out, the third captaine came, where likewise he was put in his hands serving him five yeares longer. thus having served three captaines fifteene yeares, and never likely able (for a small trifle) to attaine his liberty, i went to the captaine and payed his debt, obtaining also of the rector his licence to depart; and the allowance of the state for his passage, which was wine and biscot-bread: thereafter: i imbarked him for venice in a flemish ship, the maister being a scotsman, john allen borne in glasgow, and dwelt at middleborough in zeland, his debt was onely forty eight shillings starling. here i stayed in canea twenty five dayes before i could get passage for the arch ilands, being purposed for constantinople; but gladly would not have left the monastary of these foure friars, with whom i was lodged, if it had not beene for my designes; in regard of their great cheere and deepe draughts of malvasey i received hourely, and oftentimes against my will: every night after supper, the friars forced me to dance with them, either one gagliard or other: [drunken fryers.] their musicke in the end was sound drunkennesse, and their syncopa turnd to spew up all, and their bed converted to a boord, or else the hard floore, for these beastly swine, were nightly so full, that they had never power to goe to their owne chambers, but where they fell, there they lay till the morne: the cloyster it selfe had two faire courts, the least of which might have lodged any king of europe: the church was little, and among the foure friars, there was but one masse-priest, being a greeke borne and turn'd to the roman faction: his new name was pattarras matecarras, pater libenter, or father of free will, indeed a right name for so sottish a fellow, for he was so free of his stomacke to receive in strong liquor, that for the space of twenty dayes of my being there, i never saw him, nor any one of the other three truely sober. many odde merriments and jests have i observed of these friars of candie, but time will not suffer me to relate them, onely remitting the rest to my privat discourse, a figge for their folly. i travelled on foot in this ile more then foure hundred miles, and upon the fifty eight day after my first comming to carabusa, i imbarked in a fisher-boat that belonged to milo, being a hundred miles distant, which had beene violently driven thither with stormy weather. and in our passing thither, we were in danger to be over-runne two severall times, with two huge broken seas, which twice covered the body of the closse boat: yet with extreame fortune we arrived at milo in a bay of the east corner of the ile, being about st. andrewes day, where the poore greeks tooke me up to their village, two miles distant from this creeke, and i abode with them foure dayes. [milo.] milo was called by aristotle, melada, and by others, mimalida, melos: and lastly milo; because of the fine mil-stones that are got there, which are transported to constantinople, greece, and natolia. this ile is one of the iles cyclades, or sporades, but more commonly archipelago, or the arch-ilands, and standeth in the beginning of the �gean sea: the inhabitants are greekes, but slaves to the turke, and so are all the fifty foure iles of the cyclades, save onely tino, which holdeth of the venetians. from milo i came to zephano in a small boat, an iland of circuit about twenty miles, and ten miles distant from milo: the inhabitants are poore, yet kind people: there are an infinite number of partridges within this ile, of a reddish colour, and bigger then ours in brittaine: they are wilde, and onely killed by small shot; but i have seene in other ilands flockes of them feeding in the fields, and usually kept by children: some others i have seene in the streetes of villages, without any keeper, even as our hennes doe with us. i saw fountaines here, that naturally yeeld fine oyle, which is the greatest advantage the ilanders have. [zephano.] zephano did once produce the calamita, and was renowned for the fine mines of gold and silver, of which now it is altogether desolate: there is also fine sulphur here, and exceeding good marble: from whence lucullus was the first that transported it to rome: there is a certaine ground in this ile, where it is sayd, that if any take it away, or digge deepe holes, the earth of it selfe in a small time will surcrease without any ayde of man. east from milo and zephano, lye the iles policandro, and christiana, formerly laguso, sicandro; and sasurnino, anciently calistha, famous for the birth of the poet calimachus. from thence i imbarked, and arrived at angusa in [parir.] parir: this ile is forty miles long, and sixe miles broad: being plentifull enough in all necessary things for the use of man: it was aunciently called demetriado, whose length lieth south-west, and north-east: and hard by the high mountaine of camphasia, neere to angusa, on a faire valley standeth the auncient temple of venus, never a whit decayed to this day: this ile was given to the venetians by henry the constantinopolitan emperour, and brother to baldwin earle of flanders: and it was seazed upon by mahomet, when nigropont, and diverse other iles were surprised from the venetians. in angusa i stayed sixteene dayes, storme-sted with northernely winds; and in all that time, i never came in bed: for my lodging was in a little chappell a mile without the village, on hard stones; where i also had a fire, and dressed my meate. the greekes visited me oftentimes, & intreated me above all things i should not enter within the bounds of their sanctuary; because i was not of their religion. but i in regard of the longsome and cold nights, was enforced every night to creepe in, in the midst or the sanctuary to keepe my selfe warme, which sanctuary was nothing but an aultar hembd in with a partition wall about my height, dividing the little roome from the body of the chappell. these miserable ilanders, are a kind of silly poore people; which in their behaviour, shewed the necessity they had to live, rather then any pleasure in their living. from thence i imbarked on a small barke of ten tunnes come from scithia in candy, and loaden with oyle, and about midday we arrived in the ile of mecano, where we but only dined, and so set forward to zea. this mecano was formely called delos, famous for the temple of apollo, being the chiefe ile of the cyclades, the rest of the . incircling it: delos signifieth apparant, because at the request of juno, when all the earth had [latona receaved in delos.] abjured the receipt of latona: this iland then under the water, was by jupiter erected aloft, and fixt to receive her, wherein she was delivered of apollo, and diana: ---- erratica delos, &c. ovid. unsetled delos, floating on the maine, did wandring laton kindly entertaine; in spight of juno, fatned with joves balme, was brought to bed, under minerva's palme. in this ile they retaine a custome, neither permitting men to dye, or children to be borne in it: but alwayes when men fall sicke, and women grow great bellied, they send them to rhena a small isoletta, and two miles distant. zea to which we arrived from mecano, was so called of zeo, the sonne of phebo; and of some, tetrapoli; because of the foure citties that were there of old. symonides the poet, and eristato the excellent physition, were borne in it. the next ile of any note we touched at, was tino: this iland is under the signory of venice, and was sometime beautified with the temple of neptune. by aristotle it was called idrusa; of demostenes, and eschines, erusea: it hath an impregnable castle, builded on the top of a high rocke, towards the east-end or promontore of the ile, and ever provided with three yeares provision, and a garison of two hundreth souldiers: so that the turkes by no meanes can conquer it. the iland it selfe is twenty miles in length, and a great refuge for all christian shippes and galleys that haunt in the levante. [the ile of pathmos.] from this ile i came to palmosa, sometime pathmos, which is a mountainous and barren iland: it was here that saint john wrote the revelation after he was banished by domitianus the emperour. thence i imbarked to nicaria, and sayled by the ile scyro; which of old was the signory of licomedes, and in the habit of a woman, was achilles brought up here, because his mother being by an oracle premonished, that he should be killed in the trojan warre, sent him to this iland; where he was maiden-like brought up amongst the kings daughters: who in that time, begot pyrhus upon deidamia, the daughter of licomedes, and where the crafty ulysses afterward did discover this fatall prince to troy. as we fetched up the sight of nicaria, we espied two turkish galleots, who gave us the chace, and pursued us, straight to a bay, betwixt two mountaines, where we left the loaden boate, and fled to the rockes, from whence we mightily annoyed with huge tumbling stones, the persuing turkes: but in our flying, the maister was taken, and other two old men; whom they made captives and slaves: and also seized upon the boate, and all their goods: the number of us that escaped were nine persons. this ile nicaria, was aunciently called doliche, and ithiosa, and is somewhat barren: having no sea-port at all: it was here, the poets feigned, that icarus the sonne of dedalus fell, when as he tooke flight from creta, with his borrowed wings, of whom it hath the name; and [ovid de trist.] not following directly his father dedalus, was here drowned. dum petit infirmis nimium sublimiæ pennis icarus, icariis, nomina fecit aquis. whiles icarus weake wings, too high did flye, he fell, and baptiz'd the icarian sea. so many moe, experience may account, that both above their minds, and meanes would mount. expecting certaine dayes here, in a village called laphantos, for passage to sio, at last i found a brigandino bound thither, that was come from the fruitfull ile of stalimene, of old lemnos. this ile of stalimene is in circuit . miles, where in hephestia it's metropolis, [vulcans birth.] vulcan was mightily adored; who being but a homely brat, was cast downe hither by juno, whereby it was no marvaile if he became crooked, and went a halting: the soveraigne minerall against infections, called teera lemnia, or sigillata is digged here: the former name proceedeth from the iland: the latter is in force, because the earth being made up in little pellets, is sealed with a turkish signet, and so sold, and dispersed over christendome. having imbarked in the aforesaid brigandine, we sayled by the ile samos, which is opposite to caria, in asia minor, where the tyrant policrates lived so fortunate, as he had never any mischance all this time, till at last orientes a persian brought him to a miserable death: leaving us an example, that fortune is certaine in nothing but in incertainties, who like a bee with a sharpe sting, hath alwaies some misery following a long concatenation of felicities: it is of circuit . and of length . miles: it was of old named driusa, and melanphilo, in which pythagoras the philosopher, and lycaon the excellent musitioner were borne. upon our left hand, and opposit to samos lyeth the [nixia.] ile of nixia, formerly naxos; in circuit . miles: it was also called the ile of venus, and dionisia, and was taken from the venetians by selim, the father of soliman: east from nixia, lieth the ile amurgospolo, in circuit twenty leagues, it hath three commodious ports, named st. anna, calores, and cataplino: a little from hence, and in sight of natolia, lieth the ile calamo, formerly claros, in circuit thirty miles: and eastward thence the little ile of lerno, five leagues in circuit, all inhabited with greeks, and they, the silly ignorants of nature: south-east from this lieth the [the ile of lango.] ile of coos now lango: by the turkes called stanccow, the capitall towne is arango, where hypocrates and apelles the painter were borne: in this ile, there is a wine named by the greekes, hyppocon, that excelleth in sweetnesse all other wines except the malvasie, and it aboundeth in cypre and turpentine trees: there is here a part of the ile disinhabited, in regard of a contagious lake, that infecteth the ayre, both summer, and winter. there is abundance of alloes found here, so much esteemed by our pothecaries; the rest of this ile shall be touched in the owne place. and neere to lango, lyeth the ile giara, now stopodia, it is begirded with rocks and desartuous, unto which the romans were wont to send in banishment such as deserved death: in generall of these iles cyclads, because they are so neere one to another, and each one in sight of another, there are many cursares and turkish galleots, that still afflict these ilanders: insomuch that the inhabitants are constrained to keepe watch day and night, upon the tops of the most commodious mountaines, to discover these pirats; which they easily discerne from other vessells, [the danger of turkish pirats.] both because of their sayles and oares: and whensoever discovered, according to the number of cursary boates, they make as many fires, which giveth warning to all the ports to be on guard: and if the sea voyagers in passing see no signe on these iles, of fire or smoake, then they perfectly know, these laborinthing seas, are free from pestilent raveners. as we left the ile venico on our left hand, and entred in the gulfe betweene sio, and eolida, the firme land is called �olida, there fell downe a deadly storme, at the grecoe levante, or at the north-east, which split our mast, carrying sayles and all over-boord: whereupon every man looked (as it were) with the stampe of death in his pale visage. the tempest continuing (our boate not being able to keepe the seas) we were constrained to seeke into a creeke, betwixt two rocks, for safety of our lives; where, when we entred, there was no likely-hood of reliefe: for we had a shelfie shoare, and giving ground to the ankors, they came both home. [a fearfull shipwracke.] the sorrowfull maister seeing nothing but shipwrack, tooke the helme in hand, directing his course to rush upon the face of a low rocke, whereupon the sea most fearefully broke. as we touched the mariners contending who should first leape out, some fell over-boord, and those that got land, were pulled backe by the reciprocating waves: neither in all this time durst i once move; for they had formerly sworne, if i pressed to escape, before the rest were first forth, they would throw me headlong into the sea: so being two wayes in danger of death, i patiently offered up my prayers to god. at our first encounter with the rocks, (our fore-decks, and boates gallery being broke, and a great lake made) the recoiling waves brought us backe from the shelfes a great way; which the poore master perceiving, and that there were seven men drowned, and eleven persons alive, cryed with a loud voyce: be of good courage, take up oares, and row hastily; it may be, before the barke sinke, we shall attaine to yonder cave, which then appeared to our sight: every man working for his owne deliverance (as it pleased god) we got the same with good fortune: for no sooner were we disbarked, and i also left the last man, but the boat immediately sunke. there was nothing saved but my coffino, which i kept alwaies in my armes: partly, that it might have brought my dead body to some creeke, where being found, might have beene by the greekes buryed; and partly i held it fast also, [a happy deliverance from shipwracke.] that saving my life, i might save it too; it was made of reeds and would not easily sinke, notwithstanding of my papers and linnen i carried into it: for the which safety of my things, the greekes were in admiration. in this cave, which was . paces long, within the mountaine, we abode three daies without either meate or drinke: upon the fourth day at morne, the tempest ceasing, there came fisher-boates to relieve us, who found the ten greekes almost famished for lacke of foode; but i in that hunger-starving feare, fed upon the expectation of my doubtfull reliefe. true it is, a miserable thing it is for man, to grow an example to others in matters of affliction, yet it is necessary that some men should be so: for it pleased god, having showne a sensible disposition of favour upon me, in humbling me to the very pit of extremities, taught me also by such an unexpected deliverance, both to put my confidence in his eternall goodnesse, and to know the frailty of my owne selfe, and my ambition, which drave me often to such disasters. the dead men being found on shoare, we buried them; and i learned at that instant time, there were seventeene boats cast away on the coast of this iland, and never a man saved: in this place the greekes set up a stone crosse in the memoriall of such a woefull mischance, and mourned heavily, fasting and praying. i rejoycing and thanking god for my safety (leaving them sorrowing for their friends and goods) tooke journey through the iland to sio, for so is the city called, being thirty miles distant: in my way i past by an old castle standing on a little hill, named garbos, now helias; where (as i was informed by two greekes in my company) the sepulcher of homer was yet extant: for this sio is one of the seven iles and townes, that contended for his birth: septem urbes certant de stirpe insignis homeri. these cities seven (i undername) did strive, who first brought homer to the world alive. smyrna, rhodos, colophon, salamis, chios, argos, athenæ: the which i willing to see, i entreated my associats to accompany me thither; where, when we came, we descended by . degrees into a darke cell; and passing that, we entred in another foure squared roome, in which [homers sepulcher.] i saw an auncient tombe, whereon were ingraven greeke letters, which we could not understand for their antiquity; but whether it was this tombe or not, i doe not know, but this they related, and yet very likely to have beene his sepulcher. [sio.] this ile of sio is divided into two parts, to wit, appanomera, signifying the higher, or upper parts of it: the other catomerea, that is, the levell, or lower parts of the ile: it was first called ethalia: it aboundeth so in oranges and lemmons, that they fill barrels and pipes with the juyce thereof, and carry them to constantinople, which the turkes use at their meate, as we doe the verges. and also called pythiosa; next cios, acts . . and by methrodorus, chio, or chione: but at this day sio. not long agoe it was under the genueses, but now governed by the turkes: it is of circuite an hundreth miles, and famous for the medicinable masticke that groweth there on trees: i saw many pleasant gardens in it, which yeeld in great plenty, orenges, lemmons, apples, peares, prunes, figges, olives, apricockes, dates, adams apples, excellent hearbes, faire flowers, sweete hony, with store of cypre and mulbery-trees, and exceeding good silke is made here. at last i arrived at the citty of sio, where i was lodged, and kindly used with an old man, of the genuesen race, for the space of eight dayes: i found here three monasteries of the order of rome, one of the jesuits, another of saint francis, and the third of the dominican friers, being all come from genoa; and because the greatest part of the citty is of that stocke, and of the papall sea, these cloysters have a braver life for good cheare, fat wines, and delicate leachery, than any sort of friers can elsewhere find in the world. [the faire dames of sio.] the women of the citty sio, are the most beautifull dames, (or rather angelicall creatures) of all the greekes, upon the face of the earth, and greatly given to venery. if venus foe-saw sio's faire-fac'd dames, his stomacke cold, would burne, in lust-spred flames. they are for the most part exceeding proude, and sumptuous in apparell, and commonly go (even artificers wives) in gownes of sattin and taffety; yea, in cloth of silver and gold, and are adorned with precious stones, and gemmes, and jewels about their neckes, and hands, with rings, chaines, & bracelets. their husbands are their pandors, and when they see any stranger arrive, they will presently demaund of him; if he would have a mistresse: and so they make whoores of their owne wives, and are contented for a little gaine, to weare hornes: such are the base minds of ignominious cuckolds. if a straunger be desirous to stay all night with any of them, their price is a chicken of gold, nine shillings english, out of which this companion receiveth his supper, and for his paines, a belly full of sinfull content. this [the fortresse of sio.] citty of sio hath a large and strong fortresse, which was built by the genueses, and now detained by a garison of turkes, containing a thousand fire-houses within it, some whereof are greekes, some genoueses, some turkes, and moores: the citty it selfe is unwalled, yet a populous and spacious place, spred along by the sea-side, having a goodly harbour for galleyes and ships, the chiefe inhabitants there, are descended of the genoueses, and professe the superstition of rome: the people whereof were once lords of the �gean sea, maintaining a navy of eighty ships: in the ende they became successively subject to the romane and greeke princes; till andronico paleologus, gave them and their ile to the justinianes, a noble family of the genoueses: from whom it was taken by solyman the magnificent on easter day . being the same yeare that our late gracious, and once soveraigne lord, king james of blessed memory was borne. this cittadale or fortresse of sio, standeth full betweene the sea, and the harbour, was invaded by . florentines, sent hither by the great duke ferdinando, brother to queene mother of fraunce, and our owne queene maries unkle, anno . august . the manner was thus, the genouesen seede, had sold the fort unto the duke of florence, whereupon he sent his galleys and these gallants thither: where, when arrived in the night, they scaled the walles, slue the watches, and unhappily ram-forced all the canon; and then entring the fort put all the turkes to the sword, and among them, too many christians: the galleys all this time, being doubtfull how it went, durst not enter the harbour, but a storme falling downe, they bore up to an isolet for ancorage in the �olid gulfe, and three miles distant: the next morning, the turkish bashaw, the citty, and all the ilanders were in armes: the florentines being dismissed of their galleys, grew discouraged, and trying the canon, which they had spoyled at their first scallet, it would not be: meane while, the bashaw entred in parley with them, and promised faithfully, to send them safe to the galleys if they would render. upon the third day they yeeld, and as they issued forth, along the draw bridge, and the bashaw set in a tent to receive them as they came in, one by one, [the heads of . florentines cut off.] he caused strike off all their heads: and done, there was a pinacle reared upon the walles of the fort with their bare sculs which stand to this day. but by your leave, ferdinando in person, the yeare following, was more than revenged of such a cruell and faithlesse proceeding: he over-maisterd a turkish towne and castle, put two thousand turkes to the sword, sparing neither old nor young, and recoyling infinit richesse and spoyles of the towne, he brought home their heads with him to ligorne, and set them up there for a mercilesse monument. after some certaine dayes attendance, i imbarked in a carmoesal, bound for nigropont, which was forth of my way to constantinople; but because i would gladly have seene macedonia, and thessaly, i followed that determination: in our way we touched at [the ile of mytelene.] mytelene, an iland of old called isa: next lesbos: and lastly mytelene, of milet the sonne of phoebus. pythacus, one of the seaven sages of greece, the most valiant antimenides, and his brother alceus the lyricall poet, theophrastus the peripatetike philosopher, arion the learned harper, and the she poet sapho, were borne in it. this ile of lesbos or mytelene, containeth in compasse, one hundreth forty sixe miles: the east parts are levell and fruitfull, the west and south parts mountainous and barren: the chiefe citties are mytelene and methimnos: it was long under subjection of the romane and greeke emperours, till calo joannes, anno . gave it in dowry with his sister, to catalusio a nobleman of genoua; whose posterity enjoyed it till mahomet (surnamed the greeke) did seaze on it, . [a comparison of iles.] these iles sporades, are scattered in the �gean sea, like as the iles orcades are in the north seas of scotland; but different in clymate and fertility: for these south-easterne iles in summer are extreame hot, producing generally (nigroponti excepted) but a few wines, fruites, and cornes, scarce sufficient to sustaine the ilanders. but these north-westerne ilands in sommer, are neither hot nor cold; having a most wholesome and temperate ayre: and do yeeld abundance of corne, even more then to suffice the inhabitants; which is yearely transported to the firme land, and sold: they have also good store of cattell, and good cheape, and the best fishing that the whole ocean yeeldeth, is upon the coasts of orknay and zetland. in all these seperated parts of the earth (which of themselves of old, made up a little kingdome) you shall alwaies [the plentifulnesse of orkney & zetland.] finde strong march-ale, surpassing fine aqua-vitæ, abundance of geese, hennes, pigeons, partridges, moore-fowle, mutton, beefe and termigants, with an infinite number of connies, which you may kill with a crosse-bow, or harquebuse, every morning forth of your chamber window, according to your pleasure in that pastime, which i have both practised my selfe, and seene practised by others; for they multiply so exceedingly, that they digge even under the foundations of dwelling houses. such is the will of god to bestow upon severall places, particular blessings; whereby he demonstrateth to man, the plentifull store-house of his gracious providence, so many manner of wayes upon earth distributed; all glory be to his incomprehensible goodnes therefore. i have seldome seene in all my travells, more toward, and tractable people (i meane their gentlemen) and better house-keepers, then be these orcadians, and zetlanders: whereof in the prime of my adolescency (by two voyages amongst these northerne iles) i had the full proofe and experience. and now certainely, as it is a signe of little wisedome, and greater folly, for a man to answere suddenly to every light question; so it is as great a shame and stupiditie in man to keepe silence, when he should, and may deservingly speake; wherefore damnifying the one, and vilifying the other, i come forth betweene both (pugno pro patria) to have a single bout with the ignorant malice of an imperious and abortive geographer, brought up in the schooles neere thames, & westward ho at oxford; who blindlings in an absurd description of the world, hath produced many errors, & manifest untrueths to the world. and these amongst thousands moe, which i justly can censure to be false; namely, he reporteth the orcadians to be a cruell and barbarous peeple, and that the most part of scotland regarded neither king nor law: tearming us also to have monstrous backes, against the execution of justice: and because (saith he) they resemble us somewhat in visage and speech, the scots are descended of the saxons; where when the blacke wings of the eagle spred in the south, they fled thither, thinking rather to enjoy penurious liberty, then rich fetters of gold: moreover, [false aspersion upon scotland.] that the scurvy ile of manne, is so abundant in oates, barley, and wheate, that it supplieth the defects of scotland; so venemous also is the wormewood of his braine, that he impugneth hector boetius, to have mentioned a rabble of scottish kings before kenneth, the first monarch of all scotland; but were he fast rabled in a rope, i thinke his presumptuous and impertinent phrase were well recompensed: yea, further he dare to write, that if the mountaines, and unaccessable woods, had not beene more true to the scots, then their owne valour, that kingdome had long since beene subdued. many other introductions flow from his shallow base-branded apprehension which i purposely omit: to this his perverst malignitie (without partiall or particular construction) i generally answere; that for courteous penetrating lenity; industrious tractability; prompt and exquisite ingeniosity; nobly taught, vivacious, & vertuous gentility; humane, and illustrious generosity; inviolate, and uncommixed nationall pedegree; learned, academicall, and ecclesiasticke clergy; for sincere religion, and devoute piety; affable and benevolent hospitality; civill & zealous orders in spirituality; so docible a people to supreame regality; and for true valour, courage, and magnanimity; there is no kingdome or nation within the compasse of the whole universe, can excell, or compare with it. now what a selfe losungeous fellow hath this fustian companion proved, when the flat contrary of his abjured impositions, is infallibly knowne to be of undoubted trueth. and how often hath europe, the seat of christendome, and mistresse of the world, had the full experience in all her distressed corners, of the valiant, faithfull service, and unresistable valour of the people, of that never conquered nation: the testimonies are evident, for my part i desist, and will not medle to peramble through peremptory inferences, on particular kingdomes, although i acquitingly can; howsoever a pertinacious buffon dare, and falsely will doe it: [certaine replyes.] each base fantasticke braine, dare forge new stiles, and alter regions, customes, townes, and iles: strip'd in a bravad, he can joyne (disjoyne contiguat kingdomes) distant lands in one; first broaker-like, he scrap's rags, snips and bits, then playes the ruffian, shifting with his wits: last serpent-like, he casts a winter skin, and like a strumpet boldly enters in; this charling ape, with counterfeits and lies, and blandements; would feede the worlds wide eyes: thus like a stupid asse, this blocke-head foole, must turne a coxcombe, studying in the schoole: would he be wise and exercise his braines goe travell first, experience knowledge gaines: dare he to write of kingdomes, that ne'er saw his fathers oxe, perhaps the plough to draw; and scarce can tell even of the bread he eates how many frames it suffers, toyle, and sweats; nor ne'er ten miles, was travell'd from his cradle yet faine would sit, the steerd pegasian sadle: whiles loytring in a colledge, thus he dare sow lyes, reape shame, build lottries in the ayre; goe doting gull? goe? blot away thy name? and let thy labours perish with thy fame. this ile of mytelena, is by the turkes called sarcam lying without the mouth of the gulfe of smyrna, and opposite to the westerne coast of phrigia minor; where besides excellent wine and cornes, there are two sorts of dregs made there, which the turkes use to put in their pottage: in turkish the one is called trachana, the other bouhort, which the romanes aunciently named crimnon and mazza. whence loosing from mitylene in the aforesaid carmosal, we touched at dalamede, in the [the ile androsia.] ile androsia, the northmost ile of the syclades toward thessalia: it is indifferent copious of all things necessary for humane life, and round sixty miles: the athenians of old (as plutarch mentioneth) sent hither themistocles to demaund tribute; themistocles told them, he came to inflict some great imposition upon them, being accompanied with two goddesses; the one was (eloquence) to perswade them, and the other was (violence) to enforce them. whereunto the androsians replyed, that on their side, they had two goddesses as strong; the one whereof was (necessity) whereby they had it not; and the other (impossibility) whereby they could not part with that they never enjoyed. this �gean sea, or mare �geum, had its denomination from �geus the father of theseus, who misdoubting his sonnes returne from the minotaure of creet, here leaped in, and drowned himselfe: the greatest part of these sixty nine kings, that agamemnon tooke with him to the siege of troy, were onely kings of these little ilands: by some they are divided into two parts, cyclades, and sporades; the former containing fifty foure, and the latter twelve iles; modernely they are all cognominat archipylago, or the arch ilands. hoysing saile from dalamede, we set over to nigroponti, being sixty miles distant, and bearing up eastward to double the south cape, we straight discovered [two turkish galleots.] two turkish galleots pursuing us: whereupon with both sailes and oares, we sought in to the bottome of a long creeke, on the west side of the cape, called bajo di piscatori; whither also fled nine fisher-boates for refuge: the galleots fearing to follow us in, went to ankor, at a rocky isolet in the mouth of the bay, and then within night were resolved to assaile us. but night come, and every night of sixe (for there sixe dayes they expected us) we made such bonfires, that so affrighted them (being two miles from any village) they durst never adventure it: yet i being a stranger was exposed by the untoward greekes to stand centinell every night, on the top of a high promontore, it being the dead time of a snowy and frosty winter; which did invite my muse to bewaile the tossing of my toylesome life, my solitary wandring, and the long distance of my native soyle: carmina secessum scribentis, & otia quærunt me mare, me venti, me fera jactat hyems. i wander in exile, as though my pilgrimage: were sweete comedian scænes of love upon a golden stage. ah i, poore i, distres'd, oft changing to and fro, am forc'd to sing sad obsequies or this my swan-like wo. a vagabonding guest, transported here and there, led with the mercy-wanting winds of feare, griefe, and dispaire. thus ever-moving i, to restlesse journeys thrald, obtaines by times triumphing frownes a calling, unrecal'd: was i præordain'd so like tholos ghost to stand. three times foure houres, in twenty foure with musket in my hand. ore-blasted with the stormes of winter-beating snow, and frosty pointed haile-stones hard on me poore wretch to blow. no architecture lo but whirling-windy skyes. or'e-syld with thundring claps of clouds, earths center to surprise. i, i, it is my fate, allots this fatall crosse, and reckons up in characters, the time of my times losse. my destiny is such, which doth predestine me, to be a mirrour of mishaps, a mappe of misery. extreamely doe i live, extreames are all my joy, i find in deepe extreamities, extreames, extreame annoy. now all alone i watch, with argoes eyes and wit. a cypher twixt the greekes and turkes upon this rocke i sit. a constrain'd captive i, mongst incompassionate greekes, bare-headed, downeward bowes my head, and liberty still seekes. but all my sutes are vaine, heaven sees my wofull state: which makes me say, my worlds eye-sight is bought at too high rate. would god i might but live, to see my native soyle: thrice happy in my happy wish, to end this endlesse toyle: yet still when i record, the pleasant bankes of clide: where orchards, castles, townes, and woods, are planted by his side: and chiefly lanerke thou, thy countries laureat lampe: in which this bruised body now did first receive the stampe. then doe i sigh and sweare, till death or my returne, still for to weare the willow wreath, in sable weed to mourne. since in this dying life, a life in death i take, ile sacrifice in spight of wrath, these solemne vowes i make, to thee sweete scotland first, my birth and breath i leave: to heaven my soule, my heart king james, my corpes to lye in grave. my staffe to pilgrimes i, and pen to poets send; my haire-cloth roabe, and halfe-spent goods, to wandring wights i lend. let them dispose as though my treasure were of gold, which values more in purest prise, then drosse ten thousand fold. these trophees i erect, whiles memory remaines: an epitomiz'd epitaph, on lithgows restlesse paines: my will's inclos'd with love, my love with earthly blis: my blisse in substance doth consist, to crave no more but this. thou first, is, was, and last, eternall, of thy grace, protect, prolong, great britaines king, his sonne, and royall race. amen. upon the seaventh day, there came downe to visit us, two gentlemen of venice, clothed after the turkish manner; who under exile, were banished their native territories ten yeares for slaughter; each of them having two servants, and all of them carrying shables, and two gunnes a peece: which when i understood, they were italians, i addressed my selfe to them, with a heavy complaint against the greekes, in detaining my budgeto, and compelling me to endanger my life for their goods: whereupon they accusing the patrone, and finding him guilty of this oppression, belaboured him soundly with handy blowes, and caused him to deliver my things, carrying me with them five miles to a towne where they remained, called rethenos, formerly carastia, where i was exceeding kindly entertained ten dayes: and most nobly (as indeed they were noble) they bestowed on me forty chickens of gold at my departure, for the better advancement of my voyage, which was the first gift that ever i received in all my travells. for if the darts of death had not beene more advantagious to me, then asiaticke gifts, i had never beene able to have undergone this tributary, tedious, and sumptuous peregrination: the confluence of the divine providence allotting me meanes, from the losse of my dearest consorts gave me in the deepnesse of sorrow, a thankefull rejoycing. [the ile nigroponti.] nigroponti was formerly called euboea, next, albantes: and is now surnamed the queene of archipelago: the turkes cognominate this ile egribos: the towne of nigropont, from which the ile taketh the name, was taken in by mahomet the second; anno. . and in this ile is found the amianten stone, which is said to be drawne in threeds, as out of flaxe, whereof they make napkins, and other like stuffes; and to make it white, they use to throw it in the fire, being salted: the stone also is found here, called by the greekes ophites, and by us serpentine. the circuit of this ile is three hundred fourty sixe miles. it is seperated from the firme land of thessalia, from the which it was once rent by an earthquake, with a narrow channell, over the which in one place there is a bridge, that passeth betweene the ile, and the maine continent, and under it runneth a marvellous swift current, or euripus, which ebbeth and floweth sixe times night and day. within halfe a mile of the bridge, i saw a marble columne, standing on the toppe of a little rocke, whence (as the ilanders told me) [aristotles death.] aristotle leaped in, and drowned himselfe, after that he could not conceive the reason, why this channell so ebbed & flowed: using these words, quia ego non capio te, tu capias me. this ile bringeth forth in abundance, all things requisite for humane life, and decored with many goodly villages. the chiefe cities are nigropont, and calchos: the principall rivers cyro, and nelos, of whom it is sayd, if a sheepe drinke of the former, his wooll becommeth white, if of the latter coale blacke. from thence and after . dayes abode in this ile, i arrived at a towne in macedonia, called salonica, but of old thessalonica, where i stayed five dayes, and was much made of by the inhabitants, being jewes. [salonica.] salonica is situate by the sea side, betweene the two rivers chabris and ehedora: it is a pleasant, large and magnificke city, full of all sorts of merchandize; and it is nothing inferiour in all things (except nobility) unto naples in italy: it was sometimes for a while under the signiory of venice, till amurath the sonne of mahomet, tooke it from this reipublicke. and is the principall place of thessaly which is a province of macedon, together with achaia, and myrmedon, which are the other two provinces of the same. this city of salonica is now converted in an university for the jewes; and they are absolute signiors thereof under the great turke, with a large territory of land, lying without and about them: it hath beene ever in their hands since soliman tooke in buda in hungary, anno. . august. . to whome they lent two millions of money, and for warrandice whereof, they have this towne and province made fast to them: they speake vulgarly and maternally here the hebrew tongue, man, woman and child, and not else where in all the world. all their sinagogian or leviticall priests are bred here, and from hence dispersed to their severall stations. [thessaly.] thessaly a long the sea side, lieth betweene peloponnesus, and achaia: wherein standeth the hill olympus, on which hercules did institute the olympian games, which institution was of long time the grecian epoche, from whence they reckoned their time. macedon is now called by the turkes calethiros, signifying a mighty & warlike nation: macedonia, containing thessaly, achaia, and mirmidon, lieth as a center to them; having achaia to the east: thessalia to the south: mirmidonia, bordering with �tolia to the west: and a part of hoemus, whence it was called hæmonia, and some of misia superior to the north: it was also called amathia, from amathus once king thereof, and then macedonia from the king macedo: the chiefe cities are andorista, andesso, sydra, sederaspen, where the mines of gold and silver be, which enrich the turke so monethly, receiving thence somtimes . . & . ducats. and pellia, where alexander the great was borne. bajazet the first, wonne this countrey, from the constantinopolitans. about this city of salonica is the most fertile and populous countrey in all greece. [the vicissitude of greece.] greece of all kingdomes in europe, hath bene most famous, and highly renowned for many noble respects: yet most subject to the vicissitude of fortune than any other: who changing gold for brasse, and loathing their owne princes, suffered many tyrants to rule over them, scourging their folly with their fall, and curing a festered soare with a poysoned playster: whence succeded a dismall discord, which beginning when the state of greece was at the highest, did not expire till it fell to the lowest ebbe; sticking fast in the hands of a grievous desolation: which former times, if a man would retrospectively measure, he might easily find, and not without admiration, how the mighty power of the divine majestie doth swey the moments of things, and sorteth them in peremptory manner to strange and unlooked for effects: making reason blind, policy astonished, strength feeble, valour dastardly, turning love into hatred, feare into fury, boldnesse into trembling, and in the circuit of one minute, making the conquerour, a conquered person. greece now tearmed by the turkes rum-ili, the romane countrey, was first called helles, next grecia of grecus, who was once king thereof: the greekes, of all other gentiles, were the first converted christians, and are wonderfull devout in their professed religion: the priests weare the haire of their heads hanging over their shoulders: these that be the most sincere religious men; abstaine alwayes from eating of flesh or fish, contenting themselves with water, hearbes, and bread: they differ much in ceremonies, and principles of religion from the papists, and the computation of their kalender is as ours. [foure patriarchs in the greekish church.] they have foure patriarkes, who governe the affaires of their church, and also any civill dissentions, which happen amongst them, viz. one in constantinople, another in antiochia, the third in alexandria, & the fourth in jerusalem. it is not needfull for me to penetrate further in the condition of their estate, because it is no part of my intent in this treatise. in a word, they are wholly degenerate from their auncestors in valour, vertue, and learning: universities they have none, and civill behaviour is quite lost: formerly in derision they tearmed all other nations barbarians: a name now most fit for themselves, being the greatest dissembling lyers, inconstant, and uncivill people of all other christians in the world. [false testimonie of vagabonding greekes.] by the way, i must give the kings kingdomes a caveat here, concerning vagabonding greekes, and their counterfeit testimonials: true it is, there is no such matter, as these lying rascals report unto you, concerning their fathers, their wives, and children taken captives by the turke: o damnable invention! how can the turke prey upon his owne subjects, under whom, they have as great liberty, save onely the use of bels, as we have under our princes: the tyth of their male children, being absolutely abrogated by achmet, this amuraths father; and the halfe also of their female dowry at marriages: and farre lesse for religion, can they be banished, or deprived of their benefices, as some false and dissembling fellowes, under the title of bishops make you beleeve; there being a free liberty of conscience, for all kinds of religion, through all his dominions, as well for us free borne frankes as for them, and much more them, the greekes, armenians, syriacks, amoronits, coptics, georgians, or any other orientall sort of christians: and therefore looke to it, that you be no more gulled, golding them so fast as you have done, least for your paines, you prove greater asses, than they do knaves. in salonica i found a germo, bound for tenedos, in which i imbarked: as we sayled along the thessalonian shoare, i saw the two topped hill pernassus, which is of a wondrous height, whose tops even kisse the clouds. [pernassus.] mons hic cervicibus petit arduus astra duobus, nomine pernassus, superatque cacumine montes. through thickest cloudes, pernassus bends his height, whose double tops, do kisse the starres so bright. here it was sayd the nine muses haunted: but as for the fountaine helicon, i leave that to be searched, and seene by the imagination of poets; for if it had bene objected to my sight, like an insatiable drunkard, i should have drunke up the streames of poesie, to have enlarged my dry poeticall sun scoarch'd veine. the mountaine it selfe is somewhat steepe, and sterile, especially the two toppes, the one whereof is dry, and sandy, signifying that poets are alwayes poore, and needy: the other top is barren, and rocky, resembling the ingratitude of wretched, and niggardly patrons: the vale betweene the tops is pleasant, and profitable, denoting the fruitfull, and delightfull soyle, which painefull poets, the muses plow-men, so industriously manure. a little more east-ward, as we fetcht up the coast of achaia, the maister of the vessell shewed me a ruinous village, and castle, where he sayd the admired [thebes.] citty of thebes had bene. whose former glory, who can truely write of; for as the earth, when she is disroabed of her budding and fructifying trees, and of her amiable verdure, which is her onely grace and garment royall, is like a naked table wherein nothing is painted: even so is thebes and her past tryumphs defac'd, and bereft of her lusty and young gentlemen, as if the spring-tide had bene taken from the yeare: but what shall i say to know the cause of such like things, they are so secret and mysticall; being the most remote objects, to which our understanding may aspire, that we may easily be deceived, by disguised and pretended reasons; whilst we seeke for the true and essentiall causes: for to report things that are done is easie, because the eye and the tongue may dispatch it, but to discover and unfold the causes of things, requireth braine, soule, and the best progresse of nature. and as there is no evill without excuse, nor no pretence without some colour of reason, nor wiles wanting to malicious and wrangling wits; even so, was there occasion sought for, what from athens, and what from greece, whereby the peace and happinesse of thebes might be dissolved, and discord raised to the last ruines of her desolation. [geographicall errours.] this achaia is by some ignorant geographers placed in the middle betweene epire, thessaly, and peloponesus: where contrariwise it is the eastmost province of greece except thrace, lying along twixt it and thessaly by the sea side, which part of the countrey, some late authors have falsly named migdonia, which is a province, that lieth north from thracia, east from macedon, and south from misia, having no affinity with the sea: the chiefe citties in achaia, are neapolis, appollonia, and nicalide where the famous philosophers aristotle was borne: here is a huge and high hill athos, containing in circuit . miles, and as some affirme three dayes journey long, whose shaddow was absurdly sayd to have extended to lemnos, an iland lying neere the carpathian sea. achaia was formerly called aylaide, but now by the turkes levienda: athos in greeke is called agios æros, to wit, a holy mountaine; the top of it is halfe a dayes journey broad, and . italian miles high. there are twenty monasteries upon it of greekish coleires, a laborious kind of silly friers, and kind to strangers: the chiefest of which cloisters, are called victopodos, and agios laura, being all of them strongly walled and fensible. upon the third day from salonica, we arrived in the roade of tenedos, which is an iland in the sea pontus, or propontis: it hath a city called tenedos, built by tenes, which is a gallant place, having a castle, and a faire haven for all sorts of vessells: it produceth good store of wines, and the best supposed to be in all the south east parts of europe, or yet in asia. the iland is not bigge, but exceeding fertile, lying three miles from the place where troy stood, as virgil reported, �neid. . [tenedos.] est in conspectu tenedos, notissima fama insula, in sight of troy, a stately ile i fand shut up with pontus, from the trojane land; whose beauteous bounds, made me wish there to stay, or that i might transport the same away; else like tritonean rude proponticke charmes, t' imbrace sweet tenes, alwaies in mine armes. and againe: insula dives opum, priami dum regna manebant. an ile most rich, in silkes, delicious wine, when priams kingdome did in glory shine. where ceres now, and bachus love to dwell and flora too, in berecinthiaes cell. in tenedos i met by accident, two french merchants of marseills, intending for constantinople, who had lost their ship at sio, when they were busie at venereall tilting, with their new elected mistresses, and for a second remedy, were glad to come thither in a turkish carmoesalo. the like of this i have seene fall out with seafaring men, merchants, and passengers, who buy sometimes their too much folly, with too deare a repentance. they and i resolving to view troy, did hire a jenisarie to be our conductor and protector, and a greeke to be our interpreter. where when we landed, we saw here and there many relicts of old walles, as we travelled through these famous bounds. and as we were advanced toward the east part of troy, our greeke brought us to many [the tombes of trojanes.] tombes, which were mighty ruinous, and pointed us particularly to the tombes of hector, ajax, achilles, troylus, and many other valiant champions, with the tombes also of hecuba, cresseid, and other trojane dames: well i wot, i saw infinite old sepulchers, but for their particular names, and nomination of them, i suspend, neither could i beleeve my interpreter, sith it is more then three thousand and odde yeares agoe, that troy was destroyed. here tombes i viewd, old monuments of times, and fiery trophees, fixd for bloody crimes: for which achilles ghost did sigh and say, curst be the hands, that sakelesse trojanes slay; but more fierce ajax, more ulysses horse, that wrought griefes ruine; priams last divorce: and here inclosd, within these clods of dust, all asiaes honour, and cros'd paris lust. [priamus pallace.] he shewed us also the ruines of king priams palace, and where anchises the father of �neas dwelt. at the north-east corner of troy, which is in sight of the castles of hellesponte, there is a gate yet standing, and a peece of a reasonable high wall; upon which i found three peeces of rusted money, which afterward i gave two of them to the younger brethren of the duke of florence, then studying in pretolino: the other being the fairest with a large picture on the one side, i bestowed it at aise in provance upon a learned scholler, master strachon, my countrey man, then mathematician to the duke of guise, who presently did propine his lord and prince with it. [a description of troy.] where the pride of phrygia stood, it is a most delectable plaine, abounding now in cornes, fruites, and delicate wines, and may be called the garden of natolia: yet not populous, for there are but onely five scattered villages, in all that bounds: the length of troy hath been, as may be discerned, by the fundamentall walls yet extant, about twenty italian miles, which i reckon to be ten scottish or fifteene english miles; lying along the sea side betweene the three papes of ida, and the furthest end eastward of the river simois: whose breadth all the way hath not outstripd the fields above two miles: the inhabitants of these five scatterd bourges therein, are for the most part greekes, the rest are jewes, and turkes. [the authors portracture.] and loe here is mine effigie affixed with my turkish habit, my walking staffe, & my turban upon my head, even as i travelled in the bounds of troy, and so through all turkey: before my face on the right hand standeth the easterne and sole gate of that sometimes noble city, with a piece of a high wall, as yet undecayed: and without this port runneth the river simois (inclosing the old grecian campe) downe to the marine, where it imbraceth the sea propontis: a little below, are bunches of grapes, denoting the vineyards of this fructiferous place; adjoyning neare to the fragments and ruynes of priams pallace, surnamed ilium: and next to it a ravenous eagle, for so this part of phrigia is full of them: so beneath my feet ly the two tombes of priamus & hecuba his queene: and under them the incircling hills of ida, at the west south west end of this once regall towne; & at my left hand, the delicious and pleasant fields of olives and figge-trees, wherewith the bowells of this famous soyle are interlarded: and here this piece or portracture decyphered; the continuing discourse, inlarging both meane & manner. troy was first built by dardanus sonne to corinthus king of corinth, who having slaine his brother jasius, fled to this countrey, and first erected it, intituling it dardania: next it was called troy of tros, from whom the countrey was also named troas: it was also termed ilion of ilus, who built the regall pallace surnamed ilium: this city was taken and defaced by hercules, and the greecians, in the time of laomedon, himselfe being killed the latter time: lastly, troy was reedified by priamus, who giving leave to his sonne paris to ravish helena, menalaus wife, enforced the greekes to renew the auncient quarrell: where after . yeares siege the towne was utterly subverted, anno mundi . [homer and virgil upon troy.] whence princely homer, and that mantuan borne, sad tragicke tunes, erect'd for troy forlorne; and sad �neas, fled to the affricke coast, where carthage groand, to heare how troy was lost: but more kind dido, when this wandring prince, (had left numidia, stole away from thence) did worser groane; who with his shearing sword, her selfe she gor'd, with many weeping word. o deare �neas! deare trojane, art thou gone? and then she fell, death swallowed up her mone: they land at cuma, where latinus king did give �neas, lavinia, with a ring. where now in latium, that old daidan stocke is extant yet, though in the discent broke. [rash judgement.] on the south-west side of troy, standeth the hill ida, having three heads. on which paris out of a sensuall delight, rejecting juno, and pallas, judged the golden ball to venus, fatall in the end to the whole countrey. the ruines of which are come to that poeticall proverbe: nunc seges est ubi troja fuit. now corne doth grow, where once faire troy stood, and soyle made fat, with streames of phrygian blood. leaving the fields of noble ilium, we crossed the river of simois, & dined at a village named extetash: i remember, in discharging our covenant with the janisary, who was not contented with the former condition, the french men making obstacle to pay that which i had given, the wrathfull janisary belaboured them both with a cudgell, till the bloud sprung from their heads, and compelled them to double his wages. this is one true note to a traveller (whereof i had the full experience afterward) that if he cannot make his owne part good, he must alwayes at the first motion content these rascals; otherwise he will be constrained, doubtlesse, with stroakes, to pay twice as much: for they make no account of conscience, nor ruled by the law of compassion, neither regard they a christian more than a dogge: but whatsoever extortion or injury they use against him, he must be french-like contented, bowing his head, and making a counterfeit shew of thankes, and happy too oftentimes, if so he escape. [sestos and abydos.] hence we arrived at the castles, called of olde sestos, and abydos, in a small frigot, which are two fortresses opposite to other: sestos in europe where thracia beginneth; and abidos in asia where bithinia likewise commenceth, being a short mile distant, and both of them foure leagues from troy. they stand at the beginning of hellespont, and were also cognominate the castles of hiero and leander, which were erected in a commemoration of their admirable fidelity in love. which curling tops, leander cut in two, and through proud billowes, made his passage goe; to court his mistresse: o hiero the faire! whom hellespont to stop, was forc'd to dare: sweet was their sight to other, short their stay, for still leander, was recald by day. at last sterne �ole, puft on neptunes pride, and gloomy hellespont, their loves divide: he swimmes, and sinkes, and in that glutting downe, the angry fates, did kind leander drowne: of which when hiero heard, judge you her part, she smote her selfe, and rent in two her heart. but now they are commonly called the castles of gallipoly; yea, or rather the strength of constantinople, betweene which no shippes may enter, without knowledge of the captaines, and are by them strictly and warily searched, least the christians should carry in men, munition, or furniture of armes, for they stand in feare of surprising the towne: and at their returne they must stay three dayes, before they are permitted to go through, because of transporting away any christian slaves, or if they have committed any offence in the citty, the knowledge thereof may come in that time. at that same instant of my abode at abidos, there were fourescore christian slaves, who having cut their captaines throat, with the rest of the turkes, [christian slaves fled from constantinople.] runne away from constantinople with the galley. and passing here the second day thereafter at midnight, were discovered by the watch of both castles, where the cannon never left thundring for two houres; yet they escaped with small hurt, and at last arrived in the road of zante; desiring landing, & succour, for their victuals were done: victuals they sent them, but the governour would not suffer them to come on land. in end, the sea growing somewhat boysterous, the slaves for an excuse cut their cables, and runne the galley a shoare: upon this they were entertained in service, but the providitor caused to burne the galley, fearing least the turkes should thereby forge some quarrell. the yeare following, an other galley attempted the same, but the poore slaves having past the castles, had bene so wounded and killed with the great shot, and the galley ready to sinke, they were enforced to runne a shoare, where the next morning being apprehended, they were miserably put to death. betwixt the castles and constantinople, is about fourty leagues. over this straite xerxes did make a bridge of boates to passe into greece, which when a sudden tempest had shrewdly battered, he caused the sea to be beaten with . stripes. [the sorrow of xerxes.] and at that same time xerxes passing over the hellespont, and seeing all the sea cled with his army, his horses, chariots, and ships, the teares burst from his eyes: and being demanded the cause of his griefe? answered, o, sayd he, i weepe because within a hundreth yeares, all this great and glorious sight, shall be dissolved to nothing; and neither man, nor beast shall be alive, nor chariot, nor engine of warre, but shall be turn'd to dust; and so i sorrow to see the short mortality of nature. indeed it was a worthy saying, from such a heathnish monarch, who saw no further, than the present misery of this life. here i left the two french men with a greeke barbour, and imbarked for constantinople, in a turkish frigato. the first place of any note i saw, within these narrow seas, was the auncient citty of gallipolis, the second seate of thracia, which was first builded by caius caligula, and sometimes had beene inhabited by the gaules: it was the first towne in europe, that the turkes conquered; and was taken by solyman sonne to orchanes, anno . north from thracia lyeth the province of bulgaria commonly volgaria, and was called so of certaine people, that came from a countrey, neere to the river volgo in russia, about the yeare . it lieth betweene servia, thracia, and danubio, and by the auncients, it was thought to be the lower mysia (but more justly the region of dacia.) the chiefe towne is sophia, which some hold to be that towne, which ptolomeus named tibisca. here in thracia lived the tyrant polymnestor, who treacherously murthered polidorus a yonger sonne of priamus: for which fact hecuba, the young princes mother scratched him to death. here also reigned the worthy king cotis, whom i propose as a paterne of rare temper, in maistering and preventing passion: to whom when a neighbour prince had sent him an exquisite present, of accurately wrought glasses; he (having dispatched the messenger with all due complements and gratitude of majestie) broke them all to peeces: least by mishappe, any of his servants doing the like, might stirre or move him to an intemperate choller. [mount athos.] the greekes here, and generally through all greece, beare as much reverence and respect to mount athos, as the papists beare to rome: all of which religious coliers or friers, must toyle and labour for their living, some in the vines, some in the corne-fields, and others at home in their monasteries, or else where abroad, are alwayes occupied for the mainteining of their families: they are but poorely cled, yet wonderfull kinde to all viadants; so that who so have occasion to passe that mountaine, are there lodged, and furnished of all necessary provision of food, by these sequestrat or solitary livers, whose simple and harmelesse lives, may be tearmed to be the very emblemes of piety and devotion; knowing nothing but to serve god, and to live soberly in their carriage. the chiefest cities of thrace, are constantinople, abdera, where democritus was borne, who spent his life in laughing, sestos, gallipoli, trajanople, galata, and adrianopolis, which was taken by bajazet, anno. . as we sayled betweene thracia and bithinia, a learned grecian brought up in padua that was in my company, shewed me colchis, whence jason, with the assistance of the argonautes, and the aide of medeas skill, did fetch the golden fleece. [the sea hellespont.] this sea hellespont tooke the name of helle daughter to athamas king of thebes, who was here drowned; and of the countrey pontus, joyning to the same sea, wherein are these three countries, armenia minor, colchis, and cappadocia. after we had fetcht up the famous city of calcedon in bithinia on our right hand; i beheld on our left hand, the prospect of that little world, the great city of constantinople; which indeed yeeldeth such an outward splendor to the amazed beholder, of goodly churches, stately towers, gallant steeples, and other such things, whereof now the world make so great accompt, that the whole earth cannot equall it. beholding these delectable objects, we entred in the channell of bosphorus, which divideth perah from constantinople. and arriving at tapanau, where all the munition of the great turke lyeth, i adressed my selfe to a greeke lodging, to refresh my selfe till morning. but (by your leave) i had a hard welcome in my landing, for bidding farewell to the turkes, who had kindly used me three dayes, in our passage from the castles, the maister of the boate saying, adio christiano: there were foure french runnagats standing on the kaye; [a harsh arrivall.] who hearing these words, fell desperatly upon me, blaspheming the name of jesus, and throwing me to the ground, beate me most cruelly: and if it had not beene for my friendly turkes, who leaped out of their boate and relieved me, i had doubtlesse there perished. the other infidells standing by, said to me, behold what a saviour thou hast, when these that were christians, now turned mahometans, cannot abide, nor regard the name of thy god; having left them, with many a shrewd blow, they had left me, i entred a greeke lodging, where i was kindly received; and much eased of my blowes, because they caused to oynt them with divers oyles, and refreshed me also with their best entertainement, gratis, because i had suffered so much for christs sake, and would receive no recompense againe. the day following, i went to salute, and doe my duety to the right worshipfull sir thomas glover, then lord ambassadour for our late gratious soveraigne king james, of blessed memory, who most generously & courteously entertained me three moneths in his house, to whose kindnesses i was infinitely obliged: as hereafter in my following discourse of the fourth part of this history, shall be more particularly avouched: for certainely i never met with a more compleat gentleman in all my travells; nor one in whom true worth did more illustrat vertue. the fourth part now sing i of bizantium: bosphors tydes, twixt europe, and the lesser asia glydes: their hyppodrome, adorn'd with triumphes past, and blackish sea; the jadilecke more fast: the galata, where christian merchants stay, and five ambassadours for commerce aye: the turkish customes, and their manners rude, and of their discent, from the scythian blood: their harsh religion, and their sense of hell: and paradice: their lawes i shall you tell: then last of mahomet, their god on earth his end, his life, his parentage and birth. constantinople is the metropolitan of thracia, so called of constantine the emperour, who first enlarged the same: it was called of old bizantium, but now by the turkes stambolda, which signifieth in their language, a large city: it was also called ethuse, and by the greekes stymbolis. this city (according to auncient authors) was first founded by the lacedemonians, who were conducted from lacedemon, by one pausanias, about the yeare of the world . which after their consultation with apollo, where they should settle their abode and dwelling place, they came to bithinia, and builded a city which was called calcedon. but the commodity of fishing, falling out contrary to their expectation, in respect that the fishes were affraide of the white bankes of the city; the captaine pausanias left that place, and builded bizantium in thracia, which first was by him intituled ligos. by pliny, justine, and strabo, it was surnamed urbs illustrissima, because it is repleate with all the blessings, earth can give to man; yea and in the most fertile soyle of europe. zonoras reporteth that the athenians, in an ambitious and insatiable desire of soveraignty, wonne it from the lacedemonians: they thus being vanquished, suborned severus the romane emperour, to besiege the same: but the city bizantium being strongly fortified with walles, the romanes could not take it in, untill extreame famine constrained them to yeeld, after three yeares siege: and severus to satisfie his cruelty, put all to the sword, that were within, and razed the walles, giving it in possession to the neighbouring perinthians. this citie thus remained in calamitie, [bizantium reedified by constantine.] till constantine (resigning the city of rome, and a great part of italy to the popish inheritance or the romane bishops) reedified the same, and translated his imperiall seate in the east, and reduced all the empire of greece, to a unite tranquilitie, with immortall reputation, which the parthians and persians had so miserably disquieted. but these disorders at length reformed by the severe administration of justice, for the which, and other worthy respects, the said constantine sonne of saint helen, and emperour of rome (which afterward the pope usurped) was surnamed the great. he first in his plantation called this citie new rome; but when he beheld the flourishing, and multiplying of all things in it, and because of the commodious situation thereof, he called it constantinoplis, after his owne name. this emperour lived there many prosperous yeares, in most happy estate: likewise many of his successors did, untill such time, that mahomet the second of that name, and emperour of the turkes; living in a discontented humour to behold the great and glorious dominions of christians; especially this famous citie, that so flourished in his eyes, by momentall circumstances, collected his cruell intentions, to the full height of ambition; whereby he might abolish the very name of christianity, and also puft up with a presumptuous desire, to inlarge his empire, went with a marvellous power, both by sea and land, unto this magnificent mansion. the issue whereof was such, that after divers batteries and assaults, the irreligious infidels broke downe the walles, and entred the city, which breach was about forty paces long, as by the new colour being built up againe, is easily knowne from the old walles: where when they entered, they made a wonderfull massacre of poore afflicted christians, without sparing any of the romane kinde, either male or female. in the mercilesse fury of these infernall impes, the emperour constantine was killed, whose head being cut off, was carried upon the point of a launce through all the city, and campe of the turkes, to the great disgrace and ignominy of christianity. his empresse, daughters, and other ladies after they were abused in their bodyes, were put to death in a most cruell and terrible manner. by this overthrow of constantinople, this mahomet tooke twelve kingdomes, and two hundred cities from the christians, which is a lamentable losse, of such an illustrious empire. thus was that imperiall citie lost, in the yeare . may . when it had remained under the government of christians, . yeares. it is now the chiefe abode of the great turke sultan achmet, the fifteene grand cham, or the line of ottoman, who was then about twenty three yeares of age; whose sonne [foure emperours one after another distressed.] osman since, and after his death, was murdered by the janizaries, being . yeares of age, after his returne to constantinople from podolia in polland: and in his place, his unkle mustaffa made emperour, whose weaknesse and unworthinesse being eft soones discoverd, he was displaced, and amurath osmans brother made grand signior, who presently raigneth, and not without great feare of his janizaries and timariots, who twice in three yeares have lately made insurrection against him. this emperour achmet, who was alive when i was there, was more given to venery, then martialitie, which gave a greater advantage to the persians in their defensive warres. concerning the empire, we may observe some fatall contrarieties in one and the same name: for phillip the father of alexander, layd the first foundation of the macedonian monarchy, and phillip the father of perseus ruined it. [contrarieties of fortune.] so was this towne built by a constantine, the sonne of helena, a gregory being patriarch; and was lost by a constantine, the sonne of a helena, a gregory being also patriarch. the turkes have a prophecy, that as it was wonne by a mahomet, so it shall be lost by a mahomet. the forme, or situation of this citty, is like unto a triangle, the south part whereof, and the east part, are invironed with hellespontus, and bosphorus thraicus; and the north part adjoyning to the firme land. it is in compasse about the walles, esteemed to be eighteene miles: in one of these triangled points, being the south-east part, and at the joyning of bosphore and hellespont, standeth the pallace of the great turke, called seralia, and the forrest wherein he hunteth; which is two miles in length. the speciall object of antiquity, i saw within this citty, was the incomparable church of saint sophia, whose ornaments and hallowed vessels, were innumerable in the time of justinian the emperour, who first builded it; but now converted to a moskuee, and consecrate to mahomet, after a diabolicall manner. [hyppodrome.] i saw also the famous hyppodrome, and the theater whereon the people stood, when the emperours used to runne their horses, and make their princely shewes on solemne dayes, which is now altogether decayd: there is a great columne in that same place, in the which all these things memorable, that have bene done in this hyppodrome, are superficially carved. upon the west corner of the citty, there is a strong fortresse, fortified with seaven great towers, and well furnished with munition, called by turkes, jadileke: in this prison, are bassawes, and subbassawes imprisoned, and also great men of christians, if any offence be committed. their place of exchange is called bezastan, wherein all sorts of commodities are to be sold; as sattins, silkes, velvets, cloth of silver and gold, and the most exquisitely wrought hand-kerchiefes, that can be found in the world; with infinite other commodities, the relation of which would be tedious. i have seene men and women as usually sold here in markets, as horses and other beasts are with us: the most part of which are hungarians, transilvanians, carindians, istrians, and dalmatian captives, and of other places besides, which they can overcome. whom, if no compassionable christian will buy, or relieve; then must they either turne turke, or be addicted to perpetuall slavery. here i remember of a charitable deede, done for a sinfull end, and thus it was; a ship of marseilles, called the great dolphin, lying here forty dayes at the galata, [a french palliard.] the maister gunner, named monsieur nerack, and i falling in familiar acquaintance, upon a time he told me secretly that he would gladly for conscience and merits sake, redeeme some poore christian slave from turkish captivity. to the which, i applauded his advice, and told him the next friday following i would assist him to so worthy an action: friday comes, and he and i went for constantinople, where the market of the slaves being ready, we spent two houres in viewing, and reviewing five hundreth males and females. at last i pointed him to have bought an old man or woman, but his minde was contrary set, shewing me that he would buy some virgin, or young widdow, to save their bodies undefloured with infidels. the price of a virgin was too deare for him, being a hundred duckets, and widdows were farre under, and at an easier rate: when we did visite and search them that we were mindfull to buy, they were strip'd starke naked before our eyes, where the sweetest face, the youngest age, and whitest skin was in greatest value and request: the jewes sold them, for they had bought them from the turkes: at last we fell upon a dalmatian widdow, whose pittifull lookes, and sprinkling teares, stroke my soule almost to the death for compassion: whereupon i grew earnest for her reliefe, and he yeelding to my advice, she is bought and delivered unto him, the man being . yeares of age, and her price . duckets. we leave the market and came over againe to galata, where he and i tooke a chamber for her, and leaving them there, the next morning i returned earely, suspecting greatly the dissembling devotion of the gunner to be nought but luxurious lust, and so it proved: i knocked at the chamber doore, that he had newly locked, and taken the key with him to the ship, for he had tarried with her all that night; and she answering me with teares, told me all the manner of his usage, wishing her selfe to be againe in her former captivity: whereupon i went a shipboord to him, & in my griefe i swore, that if he abused her any more after that manner, and not returned to her distresse, her christian liberty; i would first make it knowne to his maister the captaine of the ship, and then to the french ambassadour: for he was mindfull also, his lust being satisfied to have sold her over againe to some other: at which threatning the old pallyard became so fearefull, that he entred in a reasonable condition with me, and the ship departing thence sixe dayes thereafter, he freely resigned to me her life, her liberty and freedome: which being done, and he gone, under my hand before divers greekes, i [the dalmatian widdow relieved.] subscribed her libertie, and hyr'd her in the same taverne for a yeare, taking nothing from her, for as little had she to give me, except many blessings and thankefull prayers: this french gunner was a papist, and heare you may behold the dregs of his devotion, and what seven nights leachery cost him, you may cast up the reckoning of . duckets. in constantinople there have happened many fearefull fires, which often hath consumed to ashes the most part of the rarest monuments there, and the beauty of infinite pallaces; as zonoras the constantinopolitan historiographer in his histories mentioneth. and now lately in the yeare . october . there were burned above . houses, of which i saw a number of ruines (as yet) [pestilence and earth quakes.] unrepaired. it is subject also to divers earth quakes, which have often subverted the towers, houses, churches, and walles of the city to the ground. especially in the yeare . in the raigne of bajazeth, the ninth emperour of the turkes, in which time, more then . persons were all smothered and dead, and laid up in heapes unburied. and commonly every third yeare, the pestilence is exceeding great in that city, and after such an odious manner; that those who are infected (before they die) have the halfe of their one side rot, and fall away: so that you may easily discerne the whole intrailes of their bowels. it is not licentiated here, nor else where in all turkey, that any christian should enter in their moskies, or churches, without the conduct of a janisary; the tryall whereof i had when i viewed that glorious and great church of sancta sophia, once the beauty and ornament of all europe; and is now the chiefe place, to which the great turke or emperour goeth every friday, their sabboth day to doe his devotion, being accompanied with . janisaries, besides bashawes, chowses and hagars. truely i may say of constantinople, as i said once of the world, in the lamentado of my second pilgrimage; a painted whoore, the maske of deadly sin, sweet faire without, and stinking foule within. for indeed outwardly it hath the fairest show, and inwardly in the streets being narrow, and most part covered, the filthiest & deformed buildings in the world; the reason of its beauty, is, because being situate on moderate prospective heights, the universall tectures, a farre off, yeeld a delectable show, the covertures being erected like the backe of a coach after the italian fashion with gutterd tyle. but being entred within, there is nothing but a stinking deformity, and a loathsome contrived place; without either internall domesticke furniture, or externall decorements of fabricks palatiatly extended. notwithstanding that for its situation, the delicious wines, & fruits, the temperate climat, the fertile circumjacent fields, and for the sea hellespont, and pleasant asia on the other side: it may truely be called the paradice of the earth. perah is over against constantinople, called of old, cornubizantii; but by the turkes, galata, being both a quarter of a mile distant, and the thraick bosphore dividing the two. it is the place at which christian ships touch, and where [the christian ambassadours at perah.] the ambassadours of christendome lie. the number of the christian ambassadours that then lay there, and now doe, were these, first the romane emperours, then the french, thirdly the english, fourthly the venetian, and lastly the holland ambassadours, with whom often for discourses i was familiar, although with noble sir thomas glover i was still domestick for . weekes, whose secretary for that time was my countrey man, maister james rollocke, who now, as i take it, is resident in striveling; he was the last scotsman i saw till my returne to malta after my departure from constantinople. from thence i went to the blacke sea: but commonly mare euxinum, where i saw [pompeyes pillar.] pompeyes pillar of marble, standing neere the shoare, upon a rocky iland: and not far from thence, is a lanthorne higher then any steeple, whereon there is a panne full of liquor, that burneth every night to give warning unto ships how neare they come the shore; it is not much unlike these lanthornes of ligorne and genua. the water of this sea is never a whit blacker then other seas: but it is called blacke, in respect of the dangerous events in darke and tempestuous nights, which happen there; and because of the rockes and sands which lye a great way from the maine shore: upon which many vessels many times are cast away. the blacke sea is not farre from galata, for i both went and returned in one day, being forty miles out, and in: for i went by boate, and not by land, through the pleasant euripus, that runneth betweene the euxine sea and hellespont: and by the way, i cannot but regrate, the great losse sir thomas glover received by the duke of moldavia, who chargeably entertained him two yeares in his house, and furnished him with great moneys, and other necessaries fit for his eminency: this duke or prince of bugdonia was depraved of his principalities by achmet, and fled hither to the christian ambassadours for reliefe: to whom when all the rest had refus'd acceptance, onely noble sir thomas received him, maintained him, and seriously wrought with the grand signior and his counsell, to have had him restored againe to his lands, but could not prevaile. in the end, sir thomas glovers five yeares time of ambassodry being expired, and the duke hearing privately that sir paul pinder was to come in his place, as indeede he came too soone: this moldavian prince stole earely away in the morning over to constantinople; and [the duke of moldavia turnd turke.] long or midday turnd turke, and was circumcised, contenting himselfe onely for all his great dukedome, with a palace, and a yearely pension of twelve thousand chickens of gold during his life. which, when we heard, the ambassadour, and we were all amazed and discontented: he was indebted to the ambassadour above . thousand chickens of gold, yet or my leaving galata, i went twice over with sir thomas, and saw him, and found him attended with a number of turkes, who when he saw me, tooke me kindly by the hand, for we had bene two moneths familiar in the ambassadors house before. the english ambassador within halfe a yeare, recovered the halfe of his moneys, the other halfe he was forced to forgoe for diverse importunate respects. nay, i must say one thing more of this knight, he releeved more slaves from the galleys, payd their ransomes, and sent them home freely to their christian stations, and kept a better house, than any ambassadour did, that ever lay at constantinople, or ever shall to the worlds end. his mother was a pollonian, who comming from dansicke to london, was delivered of him upon the sea: afterward he was brought up at constantinople from a boy, and spoke, and wrot the slavonian tongue perfectly: and thence returning for london, he was the first ambassador king james, of blessed memory, sent to constantinople, after his comming to the crowne of england: and this much for this worthy and ever renowned knight, whose prayse and fame i cannot too much celebrate. the turkes have no bels in their churches, neither the use of a clocke, nor numbring of houres, but they have high round steeples, for they contrafact, and contradict all the formes of christians: when they goe to pray, they are called together by the voyce of crying men, who goe upon the bartizings of their steeples, shouting and crying with a shrill voyce: la illa, eillalla, mahomet rezul allah, that is: god is a great god, and mahomet is his prophet, or otherwise there is but one god. in constantinople, and all other places of turky, i ever saw three sabboths together, in one weeke: the friday for the turkes, the saturday for jewes, and the sunday for christians: but the turkes sabboth is worst kept of all: for they will not spare to do any labour on their holy day. they have meetings at their publicke prayers, [times of turkish prayers.] every day five severall times: the first is, before the rising of the sunne: the second is, a little before midday: the third is, at three of the clocke in the afternoone: the fourth is, at the sunne-setting, sommer and winter: fifthly, the last howre of prayer, is alwayes two or three howres within night. many of them will watch till that time, and not sleepe; and others sleeping, will awake at the voyce of the cryer, and go to church. in signe of reverence, and in a superstitious devotion, before they go into their mosquees, they wash themselves in a lavotoio, beginning at the privy members, next their mouthes faces, feete and hands: and entring, they incline their heads downeward to the earth; and falling on their knees, do kisse the ground three times. then the talasumany, which is the chiefe priest, mounteth upon a high stone, where he maketh many orations to mahomet: and the rest to assist him, continue a long time shaking their heads, as though they were out of all their naturall understanding, repeating oft this word haylamo, haylamo; and after that will sigh grievously, saying, houpek. and sometimes will abruptly sing the psalmes of david in the arabick tongue, but to no sense, nor verity of the scriptures. and at their devotion, they will not tollerate any women in their company, lest they should withdraw their minds and affections from their present zeale: but the men observe their turnes and times, and the women theirs, going alwayes when they goe, either of them alone to their devotion: the like custome, but not after the same manner have i seene observed among the protestants in transilvania, hungaria, moravia, bohemia, and silesia, who when they come to church on the sabboth day, there is a taffaty curtaine drawne from the pulpit to the church wall over against it: the men sitting on the right hand of the preacher, the women on the left; whose eyes and faces cannot see other during divine service, save only the minister that over-toppeth both sides; and truly me thought it was a very modest, and necessary observation. [the turkes are circumcised.] the turks are generally circumcised after the manner of the jewes, but not after . dayes, but after . yeares. the church men are called hadach casseis, or darvises, who weare on their heads greene shashes, to make distinction betweene them and others: for they are accounted to be of mahomets kindred. they hold all mad men in great reverence, as prophets or saints, & if they intend any far journey, privat purposes, or otherwise, before they go to battell, they come to crave counsell of these santones, to know if they shall prosper, or not, in their attempts. and whatsoever answer these bedleem prophets give, it is holden to be so credible, as if an oracle had spoken it. the turkish priests are for the most part moores, whom they account to be a base people in respect of themselves, calling them totseks: their principall church governour is called mufti, whose definitive sentence in lawe or religion is penetrable, and absolutely valiant: neither abaseth he himselfe to sit in the divano, nor affordeth more reverence to the emperour, than he to him. [the turkish church-men.] the other sort of church-men are the naipi or young doctors, the caddi, whereof there is two or three in every citty to judge the offences; the calsi or readers, and the mudressi which use to oversee the cadeis in their office: they were all formerly idolatrous pagans, and were fast initiated in mahometanisme, when they got the soveraignty of the persian scepter; by the great battell, and fortunate conduct of tangrolipix in overthrowing mahomet a saracenicall sultan of persia; who inthronized himselfe, in the persian chayre of estate, anno . this prerogative title of mufti, was first intituled caliph, whose residence was in babylon, and wholly supreme over the mahometans: but the �gyptians after the death of mot adi bila, withdrew themselves from this babylonian obedience, and choosed one of their owne, to whom the moores of barbary submitted themselves. [babylon recovered by the persians.] but now since bagdat, or babylon hath beene recovered by the persians, about foure yeares agoe, their mahometanicall mufti or caliph, that then was resident there, is now retired to constantinople, where he sitteth in a more securer place, thinking rather to follow the grandeur of the turke, than the broken estate of the persian, whence i may truly say, he is fortunes page, that favoureth them most, who have most favourers. this unwealdy body having two heads, began to decline; for allan a tartarian captaine, starved mustatzem the last divided babylonian caliph to death and rooted out all his posterity: and then sarancon the first turkish king in �gypt, brained the last �gyptian caliph with his mace, leaving none of the issue, or kindred surviving. the office of the caliph is now executed in turkey, under the name muphti, or high priest. all turkes do detest the colour of blacke, and thinke those that weare it, shall never enter into paradise: but the colour of greatest request among them is greene; wherewith if any christian be apparrelled, he shall be sure of bastinadoes, and other punishments: neither may he use the name of their prophet mahomet in his mouth, (under the paine of a cruell censure to be inflicted upon him) whom they so much adore, and honour. [mahomets birth.] this mahomet was borne, anno dom. . in itraripia, a beggarly village in arabia, whose father was abdillas, an ismaelite; and his mother cadiges, a jew; both different in religion, and also of diverse countries: in his youth he was partly taught the judaicall law, and partly the superstition of the gentiles. many alleadge his parentage was never knowne (being so base) untill his riper yeares bewrayed the same, i also learned that his parents dyed whiles he was a young child, and was turned over to his unckle, who afterward sold him to one abdeminoples, a merchant in palestina: and he, after a little time, having remarked his ready and prompt wit, sent him downe to �gypt, to be a factor in his merchandise; where, by his dissimulate behaviour, he crept in favour with christians, jewes, and gentiles. he was in proportion of a meane stature, lively faced, big-headed, eloquent in language, of a sanguinicall complexion, and a couragious stomacke, in all attempts exceeding desperate: he was also deceitfull, variant, and fradulent, as may appeare in his satanicall fables, expressed in his alcoran, where oft one saying contradicteth another, both in words, and effect. about this time there was one sergius, an italian borne, banished from constantinople, because he allowed of the arrian sect; who afterward came to palestina, and frequenting the house of abdeminoples, fell in acquaintance with the young man mahomet; and this frier perceiving the aspiring quicknes of his braine, bore a great affection to his naturall perfections. shortly after this, his maister dying without heires, and his mistresse enjoying many rich possessions; she, for these his extraordinary qualities, from the degree of a servant, advanced him to be her owne husband. that unhappy match was no sooner done but she repented it with teares: [mahomet possessed with the falling sicknes.] for he being subject to the falling sicknesse, would often fall flat on the ground before her, staring, gaping, and foaming at the mouth; so that his company became loathsome and detestable. the which begun contempt in his bed-fellow; being to him manifested, he strove (under the shaddow of invented lies) to mitigate the fury of her hatefull disdaine; faining, and attesting, that when he fell to the ground, it was the great god spoke with him, before whose face (sayth he) i am not able to stand; such is the soliciting of me, with words of terrour and majesty, to reforme the wayes of the degenerate people with fire, and sword; sith moses and christ (notwithstanding of their miracles) have beene rejected by the world. the old trot, believing all these flattering speeches, was not onely appeased of her former conceit, but also loving him more then a husband, reverenced him for a divine prophet; imparting the same unto her neighbours and gossips. after they had lived two yeares together, the bewitched matron dying, left all her possessions to mahomet; both because she accounted him to be a prophet, and next for that loving regard she had of his tender body, being but . yeares of age. he being thus left with great riches, was puft up in pride, and hauty desires, striving by all inordinary meanes, to bring his new devised plots to perfection. for the better performance whereof, he consulted with this sergius a nestorian monk, and atodala another thalmudist, a diverted jew; hereupon these two helhounds, and the other perverst runagate, patched up a most monstrous, and divellish religion to themselves, and to their miscreant beleevers; partly composed of the judaicall law, partly of arrianisme, partly intermixed with some points of christianity; and partly of other fantasticall fopperies, which his owne invention suggested unto him. the booke of this religion is named the alcoran, the whole body of which, is but an exposition, and glosse on the eight commandements he affixed; whereupon dependeth [the law of mahomet.] the whole mahometanicall law: first, every one ought to beleeve that god is a great god, and onely god, and mahomet is his prophet. secondly, every man must marry to encrease the sectaries of mahomet: thirdly, every one must give of his wealth to the poore: fourthly, every one must make his prayers seaven times a day: fiftly, every one must keepe a lent, one moneth in the yeare, this lent is called birham, or ramazan: sixtly, be obedient to thy parents; which law is so neglected, that never any children were, or are more unnaturall then the turkish be: seaventhly, thou shalt not kill, which they inviolable keepe amongst themselves; but the poore christians feele the smart thereof. last and eightly, doe unto others, as thou wouldst be done unto thy selfe, the performers of which have large sophisticall promises ascribed them. this new coyned doctrine, was no sooner wrapt up in his execrable alcoran, but he began to spit forth his abhominable and blasphemous heresies: affirming, that christ was not the sonne of the most high, nor that messias looked for; denying also the trinity, with many other prophane blasphemies. the worke concluded, for the better advancement of his purpose, he married the daughter of the chiefe prince of his owne tribe: by which new affinity, he not onely seduced his father in law, but also the whole linage of that family; by whose acceptance, and conversion, he also confederated with other associates, and waxed dayly stronger. contending continually to divulgate his name, aye more and more, he assembled his new alcoranists: exhorting them to assist him in the besieging of mecha, which citizens had in derision rebuked his law, and absolutely disdained his mahometanicall illusions: and promised to them, in such a well deserving attempt, both eternall felicity, and the spoiles of these his contradictors; perswasively assuring them, that god would deliver all the gaine-sayers of his alcoran into his hands. by which allurements they being moved, rose to the number of . in armes, and menaced mecha, but the citizens put him to flight, and so was he thrice served; till in the end he wonne their city: wherein after his death [mahomets tombe.] he was intombed in an iron coffin: which betweene two adamants hangeth to this day (as i have been informed of sundry turkes, who saw it) which confirmed in them a solid beliefe of his erronious doctrine. but now of late the turkes growing more circumspect then they were, and understanding the derision of christianes concerning their hanging tombe, and because the turkish pilgrimes were often suffocate to death, with a fabulous desart in going to mecha; they have transported mahomets tombe now to medina; which is a great deale nearer to damascus, and at the entry of arabia foelix; in a glorious mosquee, where the tombe being close ground set, and richly covered with a golden cannopy; they have inhibited that any christian shall come neare to it by two courses, to wit. twenty foure miles, under the payne of death: which indeed they keepe more strictly in execution, then princely proclamations are obeyed, observed, or regarded with us; either for regall statutes, or generall benefits of common-wealth: their continuance being but like the miracle of nine daies wonder; returne againe from whence they came frustrat of power, and robbed of obedience. from this time that he vanquished mecha, casting out the greeke officers, (for then all arabia was under the constantinopolitan empire) the saracens began their computation of yeares (as we from christs nativity) which they call hegira, and begunne about the yeare of our redemption, . concerning which time, that mahomet compiled his divellish alcoran, beginning his empire; nigh about the same time it is observed that boniface the third begun his empire, and antechristian title, for phocas having killed the emperour mauritius, his wife and children: to secure himselfe of italy, ready to revolt from such a tyrant, made boniface universall bishop and head of the church. this boniface was the threescore and fourth bishop, & [the first title of popes.] first pope of rome: which was immediatly thereafter confirmed by puppin the french king, who also had murdered his master and prince; and lastly was ratified by paleologus, whose sonne constantine about . yeares thereafter, had his head stroake off, his wife and daughters put to cruell death, his empire quite subverted, in the losse of . kingdomes, and . cities, being the just judgements of god upon the sonne, for the fathers sake, who assigned such an ambitious charge unto that perverse papality: after which predominant titles and falsified power, what long controversies and disputes were betweene the pope, and the councels of carthage, calcedon, ephesus, allexandria, and nyce. this papall prerogative begun with bloud, and murther, continueth in bloud, and massacres, and (doubtlesse) in the ende shall perish, and be confounded with bloud, and abhominable destruction. and what great debate was of old by the romane emperours, in abolishing out of their churches, the images and idols of stone, iron, & timber, &c. that for many hundreth yeares they were not suffered to be seene: and at the beginning of the papality, and a long time after, the emperours prohibite them, and diverse popes have confirmed, and approved the same: yet succeeding popes, and the empire being divided in east and west, introducted againe, the dregs of their olde hethnish and [romish idolatry.] romane idolatry: and yet they will not be content with the bare name of images, but they impose a surname or epithite of sanctity, tearming them holy images. truely i may say, if it were not for these images, and superstitious idolatries, they assigne to them, the turkes had long agoe bene converted to the christian faith. i have seene sometimes two thousand turkes travelling [turkish pilgrimes.] to mecha, in pilgrimage; which is in arabia felix: where many in a superstitious devotion, having seene the tombe of mahomet, are never desirous to see the vanities of the world againe: for in a franticke piety they cause a smith to pull forth their eyes: and these men are called afterward hoggeis, that is, holy men, whom the turkes much honour, and regard: and are alwayes led about from towne to towne by mens hands, and fed, and regarded like unto princes; or like the capushines that scourge themselves on good friday, met, and homaged at every passing streete, with prayers, gifts, and adorations. some write, that mahomet in his youth was a souldier, under the conduct of heraclius, who imploying certaine arabians in an expedition to persia, not onely denied them their wages, but told them, that, that was not to be given for dogges, which was provided for the romane souldiers. hence some mutinies arrising in the army, he, with certaine arabians, his country-men, by faction, separated themselves, and revolted: whereupon mahomet, encouraging them in their defection, was chosen their captaine; and so for a certaine time they continued rebellious runnagates, theeves, and robbers of all people. the subtilty of this dissembler was admirable; who knowing that he was destitute of heavenly gifts, to worke miracles, feignd, that god sent him with the sword: he also promised, at the end of a thousand yeares to returne, and bring them to paradice; [mahomet hath broke his promise.] but he hath falsified his promise, for the time is expired forty yeares ago. and they imagining, that he is either diseased, or become lame in his journey, have ascribed to him another thousand yeares to come. but long may their wicked and faithlesse generation gape, before he come, untill such time, that in a generall convocation, they be partakers of his endlesse damnation in hell; unlesse it please the lord in his mercy to convert them before that time. mahomet, chiefly prohibiteth in his alcoran, the eating of swines flesh, and drinking of wine, which indeed the best sort do, but the baser kind are dayly drunkards: their common drinke is sherpet, composed of water, honey, and sugar, which is exceeding delectable in the taste: and the usuall courtesie, they bestow on their friends, who visite them, is a cup of coffa, made of a kind of seed called coava, and of a blackish colour; which they drinke so hote as possible they can, and is good to expell the crudity of raw meates, and hearbes, so much by them frequented. and those that cannot attaine to this liquor, must be contented with the cooling streames of water. [oppression of turkes.] it is incident to turkes, which have not the generosity of mind to temper felicity, to be glutted with the superfluous fruites of doubtfull prosperity. neither have they a patient resolution to withstand adversity, nor hope to expect the better alteration of time. but by an infused malice in their wicked spirits, when they are any way calamited, will with importunate compulsion, cause the poore slavish subjected christians, surrender all they have, the halfe, or so forth, sometimes with strokes, menacings, and sometimes death it selfe; which plainely doth demonstrate their excessive cruelty, and the poore christians inevitable misery. and yet being complained upon, they are severely punished, or else put to death, for committing of such unallowable ryots, being expresly against the imperiall law of the turke, concerning the quietnesse and liberty of the christians. i have often heard turkes brawle one with another most vilely, but i never saw, or heard, that they either in private or publicke quarrels, durst strike one another, neither dare they for feare of severe punishment, imposed to such quarrellors: but they will injure and strike christians, who dare not say it is amisse, or strike againe. it is a common thing with them, to kill their servants for a very small offence, and when they have done, throw them like dogges in a ditch. and oftentimes (if not so) will lay them downe on their backes, hoysing up their heeles, bind their feete together, and fasten them to a post, and with a cudgell give them three or foure hundreth blowes on the soles of their feete: whereupon peradventure, some ever go lame after. their servants are bought and sold, like bruite beasts in markets; neither can these miserable drudges ever recover liberty, except they buy themselves free, either by one meane or other. their wives are not farre from the like servitude, for the men by the alcoran, are admitted to marry as many women as they will, or their ability can keepe. and if it shall happen, that any one of these women (i meane either wife or concubine) prostituteth her selfe to an other man besides her husband; then may he, by authority, bind her hands and feete, hang a stone about her necke, and cast her into a river, which by them is usually done in the night. but when these infidels please to abuse poore christian women against their husbands will, they little regard the transgression of the christian law; who as well defloure their daughters, as their wives; yet the devout mahometans never meddle with them, accompting themselves damned to copulate (as they thinke) with the offspring of dogges. the turkes generally, when they commit any copulation with christians, or their owne sexe, they wash themselves in a south running fountaine, before the sun rising, thinking thereby to wash away their sinnes. [the turkes justice.] if a turke should happen to kill another turke, his punishment is thus; after he is adjudged to death, he is brought forth to the market place, and a blocke being brought hither of foure foote high; the malefactor is stripd naked; and then layd thereupon with his belly downeward, they drawe in his middle together so small with running cords, that they strike his body a two with one blow: his hinder parts they cast to be eaten by hungry dogges kept for the same purpose; and the forequarters and head they throw into a grievous fire, made there for the same end: and this is the punishment for man-slaughter. but for murder or treason he is more cruelly used, for being convicted & condemned, he is brought forth before the people, where in the street there is an exceeding high stripad erected, much like to a may-pole: which tree from the roote, till it almost come to the top, is all set about full of long sharpe iron pikes, and their poynts upward: the villaine being strip'd naked, and his hands bound backward, they bind a strong rope about his shoulders and cleavings: and then hoysing him up to the pillow or top of the tree, they let the rope flee loose, whence downe he falles, with a rattle, among the iron pykes, hanging either by the buttocks, by the breasts, by the sides, or shoulders; and there sticking fast in the ayre, he hangeth till his very bones rot and fall downe, and his body be devoured being quicke, with ravenous eagles, kept to prey upon his carkas for the same purpose. [turkish marriages.] but now i come to their nuptiall rites, their custome and manner of marriage is thus: if a man affecteth a yong mayd, he buyeth her of her parents, and giveth a good summe of money for her, and after she is bought, he enrolles her name in the cadies booke, witnessing she is his bound wife, bought of her father. loe, this is all the forme of their marriage: this being done, the father of the woman sendeth houshold-stuffe home with the bride; which is carried through the streets on mulets or camells backes, the two new married folkes marching before, are conveyed with musicke, their owne acquaintance, and friends unto his house. the turkes in generall, whensoever they loath or dislike their wives, use to sell them in markets, or otherwise bestow them on their men-slaves: and although their affection were never so great towards them, yet they never eate together, for commonly the women stand, and serve their husbands at meate, and after that, they eate a part by themselves, secretly; without admission of any mankind in their company, if they be above foureteene yeares of age. they goe seldome abroad, unlesse it be each thursday at night, when they goe to the graves to mourne for the dead, alwayes covering their faces, very modestly with white or blacke masks, which are never uncovered, till they returne to their houses. many other ceremonies they have, which would be too prolixe for me to recite. and notwithstanding of all this externall gravity, amongst these hirelings, yet there are in constantinople above . brothel-houses, turqueski as libertines; in any of which, if a christian (especially francks) be apprehended, he must either turne turke, or slave all his life: but the women by policy apply a counter-poyson to this severity, for they accustomably come to the chambers of their benefactors and well-willers, or other places appointed secretly, whereso they learne either a french syncopa, or an italian bergamasko. [the emperors concubines.] as for the great turkes concubines, they are of number eight hundred, being the most part emeeres, bashawes, and timariots daughters: the third and inmost part of the seraglia is allotted for their residence, being well attended at all times with numbers of enuches, and other gelded officers: every morning they are ranked in a great hall, and set on high and open seats: where when he commeth, and selecting the youngest and fairest, he toucheth her with a rod; and immediately she followeth him into his cabine of leachery, where if any action be done, shee receiveth from the head-clarke her approbation thereupon, which ever afterwards serveth her for a conditionall dowry to her marriage, with much honour and reputation besides: and if any of them conceave, and the child borne, it is suddenly dispatched from this life: [a hundred concubines changed every moneth.] the oldest hundreth, every first friday of the moneth are turned out, and another new hundred come in to make good the number: their entrie and issue is alwayes at one of the posterne gates of the parke, toward the sea side, and joyning nigh to their pallace: whence crossing bosphore, in an appointed barge, they both goe and come in one day, from and to the galata, which i my selfe did see three several times: the oldest and last hundred that are every moneth dismissed, they depart from the galata, home to their parents and severall countreys, rejoycing that they were counted worthy to be chosen and entertained to be their emperours concubines. the custome of the great turke is, every friday being their sabboth day after divine service and dinner, to run at the glove in a open place before all the people, with some hagars, or yong striplings that accompany him; who have the glove hanging as high on a sticke, as we have the ring with us: and truely of all the turkish emperours that ever were, this achmet was the most gentle & favourable to christians; who rather for his bounty and tendernesse might have beene intitulated the christian emperour, then the pagane king: for he dissanulled all the exactions that had beene inflicted by his predecessors upon his tributarie christian subjects; and cancelled the custome or tythe of their male children, abrogating also that imposition on their female dowries. the lent of the turkes is called byrham, which continueth the space of a moneth once in the yeare: in all which time, from the sunne rising to his setting, they neither eate nor drinke: and at their prayers (especially in this fasting) they use often to reiterate these words hue, hue, hue, that is; he, he, he, alone is god; or, there is but one onely supreme power; which they doe in derision of christians, who (as they say) adore three gods. they have also this sinister opinion, that at the day of judgement, when mahomet shall appeare, there shall be three displayed banners, under the which all good [the turkes paradise.] people shall be conducted to paradise: the one of moses, under the which the children of israel shall be: the second of jesus, under which christians shall be: the third of mahomet, under the which shall be the arabs, turkes, and musilmans: all which, they thinke, shall be elevated to severall honours; and they in promotion shall be discerned from the rest, by chambers made of resplendant light, which god will give them; wherein they shall have banquetings, feastings, dancing, and the best melody can be devised; and that they shall spend their times with amorous virgins, (whose mansion shall be neare by) the men never exceeding the age of thirty yeares, and the virgines fifteene, and both shall have their virginities renewed, as fast, as lost. they hold also this, as a confident article of their beliefe, there are seven paradises in heaven, the pavements whereof are laid with gold, silver, pearles, pretious stones, and garnished with stately buildings, and pleasant gardens, wherein are all sorts of fruit, and princely pallaces; through the which runne rivers of milke, honey, and wine. the first paradise, they call it genete alcholde, the second alfirduzy, the third anthinak, the fourth reduasch, the fift azelem, the sixt alcodush, that is holy, and the seventh almega, that is, the greatest. and that in the midst of this last paradise, there is a stately tree, called tubah, the leafe of which is partly of gold, and partly of silver: whose boughes extend round about the wals of this seventh paradice, whereon the name of mahomet is written, neare to the name of god, in these words, alla, illa, he, allah, mahomet rezul allah. the which words are in such reverence amongst the turkes, that if a christian should happen, unadvisedly to repeate them, he is adjudged to a most cruell death, or compulsed to renounce his christian religion. [the turkes lent.] their lent lasteth thirty dayes, called byrham, some name it also ramadan; induring which time, they eate nor drinke nothing from sunne rising to its setting downe: but when night commeth they cormandize at their selfe pleasures: their moneth of lent is our january, where every day after their severall devotions, they goe to solemne playes; and all kind of prophane pastimes: counting that best devotion, which is most sutable to their dispositions; allotting fancy to follow their folly, and blindnesse, to overtop the ignorance of nature, drawing all their drifts within the circle of destruction: but indeed, as they are blind, in the true way of sacred worship; yet are they masked with a wonderfull zeale to their devoted blindnesse; surpassing farre in shew, and observations, the generall professours of christianity, and all the ceremonies can bee annexed thereunto: theirs running on with the flouds of ignorant affection, and ours distracted with the inutile novelties of superfluous schoole questions: which indeed do more distemper the truth, than render god to be rightly glorified. [the turkes opinion of hell.] as concerning their opinion of hell, they hold it to be a deepe gulfe, betwixt two mountaines: from the mouth whereof are dragons, that continually throw fire, being large eight leagues, and hath a darke entry, where the horrible fiends meete the perplexed sinners, conveying them till they come to a bridge, that is so narrow as the edge of a razor: whereupon these who have not committed haynous offences, may passe over to hell, but those who have done buggery (as the most part of them do) and homicide, shall fall headlong from it, to the profoundest pit in hell, where they shall sometimes burne in fire, & sometimes be cast into hot boyling waters to be refreshed. and for the greater punishment of the wicked (say they) god hath planted a tree in hell named sajaratash, or roozo saytanah, that is, the head of the divell, upon the fruit of which, the damned continually feed: mahomet in one of the chapters of his alcoran calleth this tree, the tree of malediction. they also thinke the tormented soules may one day be saved, providing they do indure the scorching flames of hell patiently. thus, as briefly as i could, have i layd open the opinions of the turkes, concerning their heaven and hell, before the eyes of these, who peradventure have never bene acquainted with such a ghostly discourse. [the number of all the emperours in east and west.] and now i thinke it not amisse to reckon you up in generall all the romane and greeke emperours, that have bene from the beginning to this present time, both in the east, and in the west, with the number of the turkish emperours also: beginning now at julius cæsar, the first dictatour of romane emperour, to constantine the great, who transported the seate of the empire from rome to constantinople, he was the three score and fourth emperour: and from constantine the great in the east, to the first made emperour in the west, there were thirty nine emperours: of whom constantine the sixth, sonne to leo the third, with irena his wife was the last sole emperour, and she empresse of east and west: after whose death and overthrow, charlemaine was called in to italy to danton the lombards, who had oppressed that region, and the peace of the church for two hundreth yeares: he chased them from rome, apulia, and from all italy, and was therefore declared by pope leo, the romane emperour of the west: from charlemaine to this present ferdinando that now raigneth, charlemaine being the hundreth and fourth, there were forty and one emperors: so in all, with this emperour ferdinando, lately duke of grasse, the number amounts to of these emperours, counting from julius cæsar to constantine the sixt, the last sole emperour of the east, and after him, from charlemaine the first emperour of the west, to this time, their number have bene a hundreth and forty sixe emperours. some whereof were greekes, which cannot perfectly be set downe, in regard some were empresses, and others suddenly elected, were as suddenly murthered or poysoned. now to reckon the turkish emperors, i will first begin from the time that the turkes tooke a monarchick name, under the name of ottoman, even to mahomet the second, the first grecian emperour, beginning, i say at ottoman, the sonne of orthogule the first emperour of the turkes, and the first that erected the glory of his nation; there were nine emperours to mahomet the second: and from him to this present amurath, that now raigneth, there have bene eleven emperours: the number of which are onely twenty, and or they come to thirty, they and theirs, i hope, shall be rooted from the earth. [the beginning of the turkes.] the originall of the turkes, is sayd to have bene in scythia, from whence they came to arabia petrea, and giving battell oft to the sarazens, in the ende subdued them, and so they multiplied, and mightily increased: the apparence of their further increasing, is very evident, except god of his mercy towards us prevent their blood sucking threatnings, with the vengeance of his just judgements. the sarazens are descended of esau, who after he had lost the blessing, went and inhabited in arabia petrea; and his posterity, striving to make a cleere distinction betweene them, the ismaelites, and jewes, called themselves (as come of sara) sarazens; and not of hagar, the handmaide of abraham, of whom came the ismaelites, neither of the race of jacob, of whom came the jewes. but now the sarazens being joyned with the turkes, their conquerours, have both lost their name, and the right of their discent. the turkes which are borne and bred in the lesser asia, and east parts of europe, [the turkes complexion.] are generally well complexioned, proportionably compacted, no idle nor superfluous talkers, servile to their grand signior, excessively inclined to venery, and zealous in religion: their heads are alwayes shaven, reserving onely one tuft in the top above, by which they thinke one day to be caught to heaven by mahomet, and covered on all sides, counting it an opprobious thing to see any uncover his head, they weare their beards long, as a signe of gravity, for they esteeme them to be wise men, who have long beards: the women are of a low stature, thicke and round of growth, going seldome abroad (unlesse it be each thursday at night, when they go to mourne upon the graves of their dead friends) and then they are modestly masked: they are fearefull and shame-fast abroad, but lascivious within doores, and pleasing in matters of incontinency; and they are accounted most beautifull, who have the blackest browes, the widest mouthes, and the greatest eyes. the other turkes which are borne in asia major, and �gypt, (i speake not of the moores of barbary) are of a greater stature, tanny, cruell, a barbarous and uncivill people. the better sort use the slavonian tongue, the vulgar speake the turkish language, which being originally the tartarian speech, they borrow from the persian their words of state, from the arabicke, their words of religion, from the grecians, their termes of warre, and from the italian their words and titles of navigation. the puissance of the great turke is admirable, yet the most part of his kingdomes in asia, are not well inhabited, neither populous, but these parts which border with christians, are strongly fortified with castles, people, and munition: if christian princes could concord, and consult together, it were an easie thing in one yeare, to subdue the turkes, and roote out their very names from the earth; yea, moreover i am certified, that there are moe christians, even slaves and subjects to the great turke, which do inhabite his dominions, then might overthrow and conquer these infidells, if they had worthy captaines, governours and furniture of armes, without the helpe of any christian of christendome. and yet againe, i thinke it not amisse to discourse more particularly of the turkish manners, of their riches, and of their forces of warres, and the manner of their conducements. [the turkes are tartarians.] the turkes being naturally discended of the scythians or tartars, are of the second stature of man, and robust of nature, circumspect and couragious in all their attempts, and no way given to industry or labour, but are wonderfull avaritious and covetuous of money above all the nations of the world. they never observe their promises, unlesse it be with advantage, and are naturally prone to deceive strangers; changing their conditionall bargaines, as time giveth occasion to their liking: they are humble one to another, but especially to their superiours, before whom they doe not onely great homage, but also keepe great silence, and are wonderfull coy during the time of their presence: they are extreamely inclined to all sorts of [libidinous turkes.] lascivious luxury; and generally adicted, besides all their sensuall and incestuous lusts, unto sodomy, which they account as a daynty to digest all their other libidinous pleasures. they hold that every one hath the houre of his death wrot on his fore-brow, and that none can escape, the good or evill houre predestinated for them: this rediculous errour makes them so bold and desperate, yea, and often, to runne headlong in the most inevitable dangers: they are not much given to domesticke pastimes, as chesse, cards, dice, and tables, but abroad and in travell, they are exceeding kind disposers of their meate and drinke to any stranger without exception: the better sort of their women, are sumptuously attyred, and adorned with pearles and precious stones, and some of them are accustomed to turne their hands and haire into a red colour, but especially the nayles of their hands and feete; and are wont to go to bathe themselves in stoves twice a weeke, as well as men. the true turkes weare on their heads white turbanes, save a few that are esteem'd to be of mahomets kinred, and they weare greene shashes, being most part of them priests: the better part of the turkes in asia, care not for fish, but these turkes which remaine in europe love fish better then flesh, especially at constantinople or stambolda, where the best fishes and most abundance of them are taken, that be in the world, and that in the blacke sea: they are ever desirous to seeke advantage on their neighbours, which if they cannot by force, they will under colour of truce, accomplish it with perfidiousnesse. and if their interprises, finde no happy event, they are never a whit ashamed to take the flight, yet are they generally good souldiers, and well taught in martiall discipline: their armies in marching, or camping (notwithstanding infinite multitudes) keepe modestie and silence, and are extreamely obedient unto their captaines and commanders: when the great signior is abroad with his armie at warres, the turkes at home within townes, use great prayers, and fasting for him and them: they ingeniously describe the victories of their ancestours, and joyfully sing them in rimes and songs; thinking thereby that fashion in recalling the valiant deeds of their predecessours, to be the onely meane to encourage their souldiers to be hardy, resolute and desperate in all their interprises: [turkes are noe schollers.] they are not given to contemplation, nor studdy of letters or arts; yet they have divers faire schooles, where the publicke lecture of their legall lawes are professed, and mahometanisme; to the intent that children, being elected to be brought up there for a nones, may be instructed, to be profitable expounders of their alcoran, and judicious judges for the government of the common-wealth: it is seldome, and rarely seene, that a turke will speake with a woman in the streets; nay, not so much as in their mosquees one to be in sight of another; and yet they are lords and masters of their wives and concubines, from whom they receive as great respect, service and honour, as from their bond and bought slaves. now as concerning his riches, the chiefest three parts of commerce of all kind of merchandise, and abounding in silver and gold in all the turkes dominions, as well in asia, and affricke, as europe, are these, constantinople in thracia of europe: aleppo in syria of asia major; and grand cayro in �gypt of affricke: for these are the three maggezzines of the whole empire, that draw the whole riches, money, and trafficke to them of all the imperiall provinces: it is thought that ordinarily and [the great turkes yearely rent.] annually the rent of the great turke amounteth to sixteene millions of gold, notwithstanding that some doe make it lesser: but because it is so hard to judge of any monarchs rents; being like the infinite concavities of the earth, sending, and receiving so innumerable wayes their streames of riches, i'le desist from any other instances: and yet the great turkes revenewes, are no way answerable to his great & large dominions: the causes arising hereupon are many, of whom i will select three or foure of the chiefest reasons: first the turkes being more given to armes, to conquer, to destroy and ruine, and to consume the wealth of the people they overcome, leaving them destitute, of nuriture; rather then any way to give course for their encreasing and stablishing of traffique, out of which should flow the royall advantages. [certaine reasons.] and the reason why they keepe their subjects poore, and frustrate themselves of great profits; is onely to weaken, and enfeeble them, whereby they should not have wherewith to move insurrection or rebellion against them. and on the other part, the greekes are as unwilling to be industrious in arts, traficke or cultivage; seeing what they possesse is not their owne, but is taken from them at all occasions, with tyranny & oppression. for what gaines the sower, if another reape the profit; so in the ottomans estate, there be great forrests, and desartuous countries; proceeding of the scarcity of people to inhabit there, the multitudes being drawne from asia, to strengthen the frontiers of his dominions in europe. and besides there is another reason of the dispopulosity of these parts; to wit, when the great turkes army, is to march to a farre countrey to make warres, then must their vulgar subdued peasants, perhaps twenty or thirty thousands go along with them, to carry their victuals, and all manner of provision, being taken from the plough, and constrained to this servitude, and notwithstanding the halfe of them never returne againe: partly, because of the change of food, and aire, and partly because of their long travell and insupportable service, both in heate and cold: and to these of the first reason, there is another perpendicular cause; to wit, that the whole commerce of all commodities in turkey, is in the hands of jewes, and christians, to wit, ragusans, venetians, english, french, and flemings, who so warily menage their businesse, that they enjoy the most profits of any trading there, dissappointing the turkes owne subjects of their due, and ordinary trafficke. [parsells of ground for tymariots.] the last and most principall reason is, which is a great deale of more importance than his revenues; to wit, the great number of his timars: for the turkish emperours; being immediate maisters of the lands they overcome, they divide the same in timars or commandements: leaving little or nothing at all to the auncient inhabitants; they dispose upon these proportions, to valerous souldiers, that have done good service: and with this condition, that they mainetaine, and have alwayes in readinesse horses for the warres: which is an excellent good order for the preservation of his empire; for if these timariots were not rewarded, with such absolute possessions of parcell grounds, the state of his power would suddenly runne to ruine: for the profit of which lands, maintaining themselves, their horses, and their families, maketh them the more willing to concurre in the infallible service of their emperour: these timars or grounds, entertaine through all his dominions, about two hundreth and fifty thousand horses, that are ever in readinesse to march at the first advertisement, without any charges to the great signior, being bound to maintaine themselves in during the warres: and yet these timariots, and their horses, cannot yearely be maintained under the value of ten millions of gold: the consideration whereof, makes me astonished, when i recall, the relations of some ragged authors, who dare compare the great turkes revenues unto our petty princes of christendome. this establishment of timars, and the by-past election of azamglians, or young children to be made jannisaries have bene the two strong foundations, that supported so inviolably the turkish empire. the romane emperours for a long time used the selfe same manner for the assuring of their persons, and estate, in election of yong males to be their guard. they were called the pretorian army, and this taxation of children was the first thing that moved the flemings, to revolt against the romanes. [policies of turkes.] as for the turkish cavalrie, they sustaine two important effects, first they keepe under awe and subjection, the great turks subjects, who otherwise perhaps wold revolt: and next they are ordained for any dependant interprise for field garrisons, yea, and the principall sinewes of the warres: and yet the election of the grand signior, lieth most in the hands of the janizaries, who can not perfectly say he is emperour before they confirme him in his throne. the turkes have three things in their armies which are very fearefull, to wit, the infinite number of men, great discipline, and force of munition: as for discipline, they are not onely governed with great silence, and obedience, but they are ruled also with signes of the eye, and being tractable, they are tied to maine conducements: and although their multitudes have often bred confusion to them, so that little armies have broke and overcome them; yet in their flight they are so cautulous, that a small number can do them no absolute violence nor finall overthrow: for as they assaile, so they flye without feare. the first residence of the turkish emperour after his comming from �gypt, was at priusa in bithinia: thence it was transported to andreanople, and then to constantinople, where it abideth to this day: besides, all his great [beglerbegs or bashaes.] bassaws in europe, which are eight, one in buda in hungary, another in moldavia, the third in dacia, the fourth at bagaviliezza in bosna, &c. he hath also in affrick a bassaw, in algeir, another in tunneis, the third in tripolis, and the fourth in �gypt, &c. and in asia major and minor, to wit, one in aleppo, of syria, one in damascus, another at balsera, the fourth at meccha in arabia fælix, the fift in carmania, the sixt in cyprus, the seventh in the rhodes, the eighth at arzeron in armenia major, the ninth and tenth at testis and upan, on the frontiers of gurgestan and persia, &c. for arsenals he hath foure for sea, to wit, one at perah or galata, containing a hundred thirty and three galleys: the second at gallipoli of twenty galleys: the third arsenall is at savezza upon the red sea, consisting of twenty five galleys: and the fourth is at belsara in arabia fælix, towards the persian gulfe, depending of fifteene galleys, which are kept there to afflict the portugals, remaining in the ile of ormus; and other parts adjacent there. the turkes have a custome, when they are maisters of any province, to extermine all the native nobility, chiefely these of the blood-royall of the countrey: and neverthelesse they permit to all and every one of theirs to live and follow his owne religion as he pleaseth without violence or constraint. amongst the turkes there is noe gentility, nor nobility, but are all as ignoble and inferiour members, to one maine body the great turke, lineally descending of the house of ottoman: whose magnificence, puissance, and power is such, that the most eloquent tongue cannot sufficiently declare: his thousands or janisaries, shouses, and others dayly attending him: which are the nerves and sinewes of the warlike body of his whole monarchy and imperiall estate: his hundreds (besides his queene) of concubines, hourely maintained by his meanes, and monethly renewed: his armies, bashawes, emeeres, vizier-bashawes, sanzacks, garrisons, and forces here and there dispersed amongst his dominions, would be impossible for me briefly to relate. the inhumane policy of the turkes, to avoid civill dissention is such, that the seede of ottoman (all except one of them) are strangled to death: wherefore, as augustus cæsar said of herod in the like case, it is better to be the great turkes dogge, then his sonne. his daughters or sisters are not so used, but are given in marriage to any bassa, whom so they affect; yet with this condition; the king saith to his daughter, or sister, i give thee this man to be thy slave; and if he offend thee in any case, or be disobedient to thy will, here i give thee a dagger to cut off his head; which alwaies they weare by their sides for the same purpose. [noble persians.] the persians differ much from the turkes, in nobility, humanity, and activity, and especially in points of religion: who by contention thinke each other accursed; and notwithstanding both factions are under the mahometanicall lawe. neither are the sonnes of the persian kings, so barbarously handled, as theirs; for all the brethren (one excepted) are onely made blind, wanting their eyes, and are alwayes afterward gallantly maintained, like princes. and it hath oftentimes fallen out, that some of these kings, dying without procreate heires; there have of these blind sonnes succeeded to the empire, who have restored againe the seed of that royall family. and now the great advantage, that the turkes have dayly upon the persians, is onely because of their infantery, which the persians no wayes are accustomed with, fighting alwayes on horse-backe; neither are the persians adicted or given to build forts, or fortifications, neither have they any great use of munition, but exposing themselves ever to the field in the extreame hazard of battell, become ever doubtfull in their victories: whose [babylon regained by the persians.] courage and valour cannot be paraleld among all the people of the easterne world, as babylon in their late and last fortunes may give sufficient testimony thereof. the fifth part close bounded hellespont, earths mother sport i leave: longst the �olid lists, i smirna court: thence samothrace, and rhodos, i accoast, which lilidamus viliers, manly lost: the lycian bounds, and steepe pamphilian shoares i strictly view: the sea carpathian roares, i land at cyprus: seline is the place, whence i that kingdome, to nicosia trace: from famagust, faire asia, then i courted and libanon; whence cedars were transported for sions temple: and my toyles to crowne i sight great aleppe, syriaes lady towne: then passing mesopotame; chelfanes land, i stay at beershack, on euphrates strand: thence backe by damas, arabie petrea, galilee, samaria, mountainous judea i toyling came: and at jerusalem, i lodg'd neere moriah, in a cloystred frame. the winter expired, & the spring gone, time summoned me after three moneths repose, to imbrace the violence of a firy fac'd season: where having dutifully taken my counge of many worthy friends, who both kindly, and respectively had used me; especially, the aforesayd english ambassadour, sir thomas glover: and the new ambassadour, sir paul pinder, who had lately arrived there before my departure, and had bene formerly consull in aleppo five yeares. i left constantinople, and imbarked in a ship belonging to london, named the allathya, whereof one maister wylds in ratcliffe was maister; where indeed both he and his company kindly and respectively used me, for the space of twelve daies; being bound for smyrna, and so we sayled along the coast of bithinia in asia minor. bithinia hath on the north hellespont: on the west phrigia; on the east pontus: and on the south capadocia or leuco syria: the chiefe citties are calcedon, where, by comaund of the emperour martianus, the fourth generall counsell was assembled, to repell the heresie of nestorius. nigh unto the side of hellespont is mount stella, famous for that victory which pompey had over mithridates: and where tamberlane with . tartarians incountred bajazet, whose army consisted of . men; of which . lost their lives that day: and [bajazet taken by tamberlane.] bajazet being taken, was carried about in an iron cage on whose necke tamberlane used to set his foote, when he mounted on horse-backe; and at last beate out his owne braines against the barres of the iron cage: the next cities are nicomedia; and nyce, where the first generall councell was kept, anno . to which there assembled . bishops to beate downe the arian heresie. the other townes are prusa and labissa; the former was built by prusias king of bithinia, who betrayed hanniball when he fled to him for succour; in the latter hanniball lyeth buried. prusa was a long time the seate of the ottoman kings, till mahomet the first began to keepe his residence at andrianople: the chiefe rivers are ascanius, sangaro, and granico, nigh unto which alexander obtained the first victory against the persians. having passed bithinia, and the phrigian coast, we fetched up cenchrea, where saint paul cut his haire, after his vow was performed, acts . . being a towne now inhabited by greekes, with a turkish governour, and of small importance, in regard of other neighbouring places, that bereave them of their trafficke; and because the jewes do not much frequent here: the inhabitants are rather turned spectators to vertue, than any way inherent to necessary goodnesse: want of strangers being one let, and vitious otiosity the other stop: this city standeth by the sea side in the north part of ionia, but more truely on the west frontiers of lydia. lydia hath on the west phrigia minor: on the south ionia: on the east paphlagonia, on the north-west �olus, & a part of phrygia major. the chiefe metropole is sardis, once the royall seat of croesus the richest king in his time, who in his full prosperity, was told by solon, that no man could reckon upon felicity so long as he lived, because there might be great mutability of fortune, which afterward he found true: the recitall of which advertisement, when he was taken prisoner by cyrus saved his life: the next city is pergamus, where parchment was first invented, and therefore called pergamenum: here was galen borne, who lived so healthfully one hundreth and forty yeares: the reason whereof, he thus affixeth; he never eate or drunke his full, & ever carried some sweete perfumes with him. the other townes are thyatira, laodicea, and philadelphia. upon the twelfth day after our departure from constantinople, we arrived at smirna, being foure hundreth miles distant. [the city of smyrna.] this city was one of the seven churches mentioned revelation . . and standeth in ionia: of this place was the famous martyr polycarpus bishop, who sometimes had bene schollar to john the evangelist: and living till he was of great age, was at last put to death for christs sake. it is a goodly place, having a faire haven for ships: they have great trafficke with all nations; especially for fine silke, cotten wooll, and dimmety, brought to it by the countrey peasants, which straungers buy from them. truely, neare unto this city, i saw a long continuing plaine, abounding in cornes, wines, all sorts of fruitfull herbage, and so infinitely peopled, that methought nature seemed, with the peoples industry to contend, the one by propagating creatures, the other by admirable agriculture. that for commodities and pleasure, it is little inferiour unto the valley of suda in candy, which maketh the inhabitants wondrous insolent: for as mirth is made of [wealth is the brother of vice.] pleasure, and with pleasures all vices are baited; even so there is not a more incorrigible creature then man in prosperity, nor so modest nor reformed an one, as he, to whom fortune hath lent but a sparing and crooked favour, which indeed i hold best of all: for it is the forming of the mind, not the tongue, nor hand, that can preferre us to true felicitie: and would to god that these, upon whome none but faire windes have ever blowne, in the carreire of their supposed happinesse, could but see for all their high and overtopping places, their end, and resting place: since they are nought but the arrowes of the omnipotent arme, that are yet flying not at theirs but his marke; and no more owners of their owne proposed ends, then they are guilty of their owne beginnings: surely they would cover their faces with another kind of maske then they do: and make their actions seeme more cleare, then the force of policie can obumbrate their wicked devices. thiatyra now called tiria, one also of the seven churches is not from smirna above eighteene miles. from this citie (having left my kind english men and their stately ship that carryed . pieces of ordonance,) i imbarked in a turkish carmoesalo, that carried nothing but her loading, being bound for rhodes. in our sayling along the coast of ionia, the first place of any note i saw, was [ephesus decayed.] the ruinous citie of ephesus; yet somewhat inhabited with greekes, jewes, and a few turkes; but no waies answerable to its former glory and magnificence, being rather a monument for memory, then a continuing towne of any excellency: neverthelesse it is pleasantly adorned with gardens, faire fields, and greene woods of olive trees, which on the sea doe yeeld a delectable prospect: it was one of the seaven churches, revel. . . this was one of the most renowned cities in asia the lesser but the same thereof arose from the temple of diana: which for the spaciousnesse, furniture, and magnificent workmanship was accounted one of the seven worlds wonders: it was two hundred yeares in building, being foure hundred twenty five foote long, and two hundred broad: it was seven severall times burnt, whereof the most part was with lightning, and lastly the finall destruction of it, came by a base fellow erostratus, who to purchase himselfe a name, [dianaes temple burnt.] did set it on fire. timothy was bishop of ephesus, to the people whereof, saint paul directed one of his epistles, and finally it is famous for the buriall of saint john the evangelist: it was said of this place, in the acts of the apostles, that all asia, and the whole world did worship here diana: tully reporteth, de natura deorum, that timæus being demanded the reason why the temple of diana was set on fire that night, when alexander the great was borne: gave this jest thereof, that the mistresse of it was from home; because she being the goddesse of midwives, did that night wait upon olimpias the mother of alexander the great, who was brought to bed in macedonia. [the ile lango or cuos.] over against this citie is the ile lango, aunciently called coos, wherein the great hippocrates was borne, and appelles, the painter most excellent. it is both fertile, and populous, and of circuite above fourescore miles. there is a kind of serpent said to be in it, so friendly unto the inhabitants, that when the men are sleeping under the shadow of trees, they come cralling, and will lincke or claspe themselves about their neckes and bodies, without doing any harme, neither when they awake are the beasts affraid. and neare to lango, is the ile nixa, of old strangoli; and by some called dronisa and naxus, an iland both fruitfull and delightfull. as we sailed by the west part of the ile, a greekish passenger shewed me the place, where (as he sayd) ariadne was deceived of theseus, which is not farre from the irriguate plaine of darmille. continuing our navigation, i saw the little ile ephdosh, where the turkes told me, that all the ilanders were [excellent swimmers.] naturally good swimmers, paying no more tribute to their great lord the turke, save onely once in the yeare there are certaine men, and women chosen by a turkish captaine, who must swimme a whole league right out in the sea, and goe downe to the bottome of the waters, to fetch thence some token they have got ground: and if they shall happen to faile in this, the iland will be reduced againe to pay him yearely rent. this i saw with mine eyes, whiles we being calmed, there came a man and two women swimming to us, more then a mile of way, carrying with them (drie above the water) baskets of fruite to sell, the which made me not a little to wonder. for when they came to the ships side, they would neither boord, nor boat with us, but lay leaning, or as it were resting them selves on the sea, upon their one side, and sold so their fruits: keeping complements and discourses with us above an houre. contenting them for their ware, and a fresh gale arising, we set forward, accoasting the little ile of samothracia. [samothracia.] this ile of samothracia, was called of old dardania, and now by the turkes samandracho; a place of small note considering the quantity of the ile, and the few number of inhabitants: their lives being answerable to their meannes; ignorance and servitude; two strong commanders of infirme weaklings, and no lesse powerfull, then they are debile in the debt of worthinesse; which the younglings of understanding, & sucklings of far look'd-to knowledge, can never be able to escape, although a true profession covereth many naturall imperfections; and in it a hope for blessednes, which indeed moe wish for, then rightly understand it. and upon the ninth day after our departure from smyrna, we arrived at the city of rhodes, so called of the iland wherein it standeth. rhodes lieth in the carpathian sea. it was of old called [the ile of rhodes.] ithrea, telchino, and phiula: plinie saith it was called rhodes, because there were certaine fields of roses in it; for rhodos in the greeke tongue signifieth a flower: not farre from the city, and at the entery of the haven, [the idoll collossus.] i saw the relicts of that huge, and admiredly erected idoll, named colossus rhodius, or the mighty image of the sunne; which was made in honour thereof: from the which saint paul termed the inhabitants collossians. it was builded by the worthy canete lindo in the space of twelve yeares: others have said, of callasses the disciple of lisippus, taking the name collossus of him, and it was thought worthy to be one of the seven earthly wonders, and so it might justly have beene: the quantity whereof (as yet) may amaze the minde of the beholder: it was erected in the image of a man, being eighty cubits high, and so bigge, that the little finger of it was as bigge as an ordinary man: between whose legs, (it standing in the harbours mouth, with a legge on each side of the entery) shippes were wont to passe under with taunt sayles: when mnavi generall of caliph osmen first united this ile to the mahometan empire, and broke downe the greatest part of this statue; the brasse whereof was said to be so much that it loaded nine hundred camells. this ile belonged once to the knights of malta, and were then surnamed knights of the rhodes, but they came first out of acre in the holy land; who were called knights of st. john; who viriliously expulsed the saracens from thence, anno . who had formerly taken it from the devided grecians: these knights sorely invested the turkes for the space of two hundred yeares, till solyman the magnificent, at last invaded and subdued it: the rhodians were ever great friends to the romanes, insomuch that when all the other mediterranean ilands revolted to mithridates of pontus, this onely adhered to the romanes. this ile of rhodes within the space of . yeares was three times mightily indangered by violent and extreame [inundation of waters.] impetuosities of raine: in such sort that the last flood did drowne the greatest part of the inhabitants: which beginning in the spring-time, did continue to summer, and in all this time, it broke violently downe their houses, and in the night killed the people lying in their beds; and in the day time such as were sheltered under safegard of their dwellings: which was a miserable destruction, and the like of it scarcely heard of since the universall deludge. but true it is, as these ominous judgements falling upon particular parts & parcells of people, are justly executed; yet they serve for caveats for all others in generall, (sinne being the originall of all) to take heed of offending the creator, in abusing the best use of the creature. the citie of rhodes hath two strong fortresses, in one of which these knights (lilladamus villiers being great master, who were about five hundred onely, and five thousand rhodians who asisted them) were besieged by an armie of two hundred thousand turkes, and three hundred galleys, for the space of sixe months. the chiefe obstacle, and impeaching of so great an army from taking it, was onely the resolute valour of the defendants. but in end multitude overmastring valour, and the cavalieri di rhodo, wanting furniture to their munition, and being penurious of victuals, were constrayned to render, upon the conditionall safety of their lives, goods, and transportation; and remained a long time without any habitation, till the king of spaine gave them the barren ile of malta to inhabite: this ile of rhodes was lost by the maltezes, anno dom. . [rhodes taken by solyman.] and on christmas day solyman entred the towne as conquerour, though he might justly have said (as pyrhus once said of his victory over the romanes) that such another victory would utterly have undone him; he lost so many of his bravest commanders, and best souldiers. it is ever since in the fruition of turkes: the fortresse of rhodes, and that fortresse famogusta, in cyprus, are the two strongest holds, in all the empire of the great turke. and by the way here i must record, that if the great turke, and his great counsell, were not good pay-masters to their janizaries, and speedy rewarders of their common souldiers; it were impossible for him the emperour, or them the bassawes to menage so great a state, and to keepe under obedience so head-strong a multitude, & such turbulent forces: for by your leave, [souldiers should be regarded & rewarded.] if a souldiers industry be not quickned and animated with bountifull rewards; he hath lesse will to performe any part of martiall service; then a dead coarse hath power to arise out of the grave: for what can be more precious to man, then his blood, being the fountaine & nurse of his vitall spirits, & the ground of his bodily substance; which no free or ingenious nature wil hazard to lose for nothing. and whosoever shall argument or discourse upon sound reason, and infallible experience, may easily prove and perceive, that these commanders have ever best prospered, which have most liberally maintayned, and had in singular regard, military arts and souldiers; otherwise the honourable mind, would account it a great deale better to have death without life, then life without reward: yea, and the noble commander, desiring rather to want, then to suffer worth unrecompensed. rhodes joyneth neare to the continent, over against caria, now called carmania, under which name the turkes comprehend pamphilia, ionia, and lycia: caria by the sea side, hath lycia to the south, and caria to the north: the chiefe cities are manissa, and mindum, which having great gates, being but a small towne, made diogenes the cynick crie out. yee citizens of mindum, take heed, that your city run not out of your gates: the third is hallicarnasso, where dionisius was borne, who writ the history of rome for the first three hundred yeares: of which towne also the province tooke the name; for artemisia, who ayded xerxes against the grecians, was by some authors named queene of hallicarnasso. this was she, [mausolaos tombe.] who in honour of her husband mausolao, built that curious sepulcher, accounted for one of the worlds wonders; it being twenty five cubits high, and supported with thirty sixe admirable wrought pillars. after i had contented the master for my fraught, and victuals (who as he was an infidell, used me with great exaction) i found a barke of the arches purposed to cyprus, with the which i imbarked, being foure hundred miles distant. this tartareta, or demi galleyeot, belonged to the ile of stagiro, aunciently thasia, wherein there were mines of gold, in these times that afforded yearely to philip king of macedon, about fourescore talents of gold, but now mightily impoverished and of no consequence: the chiefe towne whereof is palmapreto, where diverse greekes hold the opinion, homer was interred, having a famous sea-port, which is a common resting place for all the orientall pirats or cursaroes; which maketh the ile halfe desolate of people; and these few scarce worthy of their dwellings. [pamphilia & lycia.] having past the gulfe of sattelia, and the ile carpathia, whence that part of the sea taketh his name: we boorded close along the coast of lycia, and the firme land of fruitfull pamphilia; the chiefe citie of lycia is patras, watred with the river zanthus, whence the people were called zanthi, afterward lycians of lycus sonne to pandion: it lieth twixt caria and pamphilia, as pamphilia lyeth betweene it and cilicia: the chiefe towne in pamphilia is seleucia, built by seleucus, one of alexanders successours: on the east of lycia within land bordreth lycaonia, &c. having left pamphilia behind us, we fetched up the coast of cylicia, sustaining many great dangers, both of tempestuous stormes, and invasions of damnable pirats, who gave us divers assaults to their owne disadvantages; our saylage being swifter, then either their swallowing desires could follow, or our weake and inresolute defence could resist. here in this countrey of cilicia, was saint paul borne in the now decayed towne of tharsus, who for antiquity will not succumbe to any city of natolia, being as yet the mistresse of that province, though neither for worth, nor wealth. all auncient things by time revolve in nought as if their founders, had no founding wrought. but thou torne tharsus, brookes a glorious name, for that great saint, who in thee had his frame: so may cilicians joy, the christian sort, that from their bounds, rose such a mighty fort. twelve dayes was i betweene rhodes and limisse in [the description of cyprus.] cyprus; where arrived, i received more gracious demonstrations from the ilanders, then i could hope for, or wish, being farre beyond my merit or expectation; onely contenting my curiosity with a quiet mind, i redounded thankes for my imbraced courtesies. the people are generally strong and nimble, of great civility, hospitality to their neighbours, and exceedingly affectionated to strangers. the second day after my arrival, i tooke with me an interpreter, and went to see nicosia, which is placed in the midst of the kingdome. but in my journey thither, extreame was the heate and thirst i endured; both in respect of the season, and also want of water: and although i had with me sufficiency of wine, yet durst i drinke none thereof, being so strong, and withall had a tast of pitch; and that is, because they have no barrels, but great jarres made of earth, wherein their wine is put. and these jarres are all inclosed within the ground save onely their mouthes, which stand alwayes open like to a source or cisterne; whose insides are all interlarded with pitch to preserve the earthen vessells unbroke a sunder, in regard of the forcible wine; yet making the taste thereof unpleasant to liquorous lips; and turneth the wine, too headdy for the braine in digestion, which for health groweth difficult to strangers; and to themselves a swallowing up of diseases. to cherish life and blood, the health of man, give me a tost, plung'd in a double cann, and spic'd with ginger: for the wrestling grape makes man, become from man, a sottish ape. nicosia is the principall citie of cyprus, and is invironed with mountaines, like unto florence in �truria; [the sixe cities of cyprus.] wherein the beglerbeg remaineth: the second is famegusta, the chiefe strength and sea-port in it: selina, lemisso, paphos, and fontana morosa, are the other foure speciall townes in the iland. this ile of cyprus was of old called achametide, amatusa, and by some marchara, that is happy: it is of length extending from east to west, . large . and of circuit . miles. it yeeldeth infinite canes of sugar, cotten-wooll, oyle, honney, cornes, turpentine, allum, verdegreece, grogranes, store of mettals and salt; besides all other sorts of fruit and commodities in abundance. it was also named cerastis, because it butted toward the east with one horne: and lastly cyprus, from the abundance of cypresse trees there growing. this iland was consecrated to venus, where in paphos she was greatly honoured, termed hence, dea cypri, festa dies veneris tota celeberrima cypro, venerat, ipsa suis aderat venus aurea festis. venus feast day, through cyprus hollowed came, whose feasts, her presence, dignified the same. cyprus lyeth in the gulfe betweene cilicia and syria, having �gypt to the west: syria to the south: cilicia to the east: and the pamphilian sea to the north: it hath foure chiefe capes or headlands: first, westward the promontore of acanias, modernely capo di santo epifanio: to the south the promontore phæuria, now capo bianco: to the east pedasia, modernely capo di greco: to the north, the high foreland of cramineon, now capo di cormathita: these foure are the chiefest promontores of the iland, and cape di s. andrea is the furthest poynt eastward toward cilicia: diodore and pliny say that anciently it contained nine kingdomes, and fifteene good townes: cerania, now selina, was built by cyrus, who subdued the nine petty kings of this ile: nicosia is situate in the bottome or plaine of massara, and thirty foure miles from famagusta; and the towne of famagusta was formerly named salamus: i was informed by some of sound experience here, that this kingdome containeth about eight hundreth and forty villages, besides the sixe capitall townes, two whereof are nothing inferiour for greatnesse and populosity to the best townes in candy, sicily, or greece. [trohodos a huge hill in cyprus.] the chiefest and highest mountaine in this ile, is by the cypriots called trohodos, it is of height eight, and of compasse forty eight miles, whereon there are a number of religious monasteries, the people whereof are called colieros, and live under the order of saint basile. there is abundance here of coriander seede, with medicinable reubarbe, and turpentine. here are also mines of gold in it, of chrysocole, of calthante, of allome, iron, and exceeding good copper. and besides these mines, there are diverse precious stones found in this ile, as emeraulds, diamonds, chrystall, corall, red and white, and the admirable stone amiante, whereof they make linnen cloth, that will not burne being cast into the fire, but serveth to make it neate and white. the greatest imperfection of this ile, is scarcity of water, and too much plenty of scorching heate, and fabulous grounds. the inhabitants are very civill, courteous, and affable; and notwithstanding of their delicious and delicate fare, they are much subject to melancholy, of a robust nature, and good warriours, if they might carry armes: it is recorded, that in the time of constantine the great, this ile was all uterly abandoned of the inhabitants, and that because it did not raine for the space of sixe and thirty yeares. after which time, and to [cyprus replanted.] replant this region againe, the chiefest colonies came from �gypt, judea, syria, cilicia, pamphilia, thracia, and certaine territories of greece: and it is thought, in the yeares . after that guy of lusingham, the last christian king of jerusalem had lost the holy land, a number of french men, stayed and inhabited here; of whom sprung the greatest race of the cyprian gentility; and so from them are discended the greatest families of the phenician sydonians, modernely drusians: though ill divided, and worse declined; yet they are sprung both from one originall: the distraction arising from conscience of religion, the one a christian, the other a turke. the three iles of cyprus, candy, and sicily, are the onely monarchicke queenes of the mediterranean seas: [comparisons of iles.] and semblable to other in fertility, length, breadth, and circuit: save onely candy that is somewhat more narrow then the other two, and also more hilly and sassinous: yet for oyles and wines, she is the mother of both the other: sicily being for graine and silkes the empresse of all: and cyprus for sugar and cotton-wooll, a darling sister to both; onely sicily being the most civill ile, and nobly gentilitat, the cypriots indifferently good, and the candiots the most ruvid of all. the chiefe rivers are teno, and pedesco: cyprus was first by teucer made a kingdome, who after the trojane warre came and dwelt here: and afterward being divided betweene nine petty princes, it was subdued by cyrus, the first monarch of the meedes and persians. after the subversion of which empire, this ile was given to the potolomies of �gypt: from whom cato conquered it to the benefit of the romans. [the dukes of savoy were kings of cyprus.] the dukes of savoy were once kings of cyprus; but the inhabitants usurping their authority, elected kings to themselves, of their owne generation: and so it continued, till the last king of cyprus, james the bastard (marrying with the daughter of a noble venetian, catherina cornaro) died without children, leaving her his absolute heire. and she perceiving the factious nobility, too headstrong to be bridled by a female authority, like a good child, resigned her crowne and scepter to the venetian senate, anno . whereupon the venetians imbracing the opportunitie of time, brought her home, and sent governours thither to beare sway in their behalfe; paying onely as tribute to the �gyptian sultans . crownes, which had been due ever since melecksala, had made john of cyprus his tributary. it was under their jurisdiction . yeares and more; till that the turkes, who ever oppose themselves against christians (finding a fit occasion in time of peace, and without suspition in the venetians) tooke it in with a great armado. anno . and so till this day by them is detayned. oh great pitty! that the usurpers of gods word, and the worlds great enemy, should maintaine (without feare) that famous kingdome, being but one thousand & fifty turkes in all, who are the keepers of it: unspeakable is the calamitie of that poore afflicted christian people under the terrour of these infidels; who would, if they had armes, or asistance of any christian potentate, easily subvert and abolish the turkes, without any disturbance; yea, and would render the whole signiory thereof to such a noble actor. i doe not see in that small judgement, which by experience i have got, but the redemption of that countrey were most facile; if that the generous heart of any christian prince, would be moved with condigne compassion to relieve the miserable aflicted inhabitants. in which worke, he should reape (questionlesse) not onely an infinite treasure of worldly commodities, that followeth upon so great a conquest, but also a heavenly and eternall reward of immortall glory. [the florentines attempted to conquer cyprus.] the which deliverance ferdinando duke of florence, thought to have accomplished (having purchased the good will of the ilanders) with five gallounes, and . souldiers: who being mindfull to take first in the fortresse of famogusta, directed so their course, that in the night, they should have entred the haven, disbarke their men, and scale the walles. but in this plot they were farre disappointed by an unhappy pilot of the vice-admirall, who mistaking the port, went into a wrong bay: which the florentines considering, resolved to returne, and keepe the sea, till the second night; but by a dead calme, they were frustrated of their aymes, and on the morrow discovered by the castle: whereupon the turkes went presently to armes, & charged the inhabitants to come to defend that place: but about foure hundred greekes in the west part, at paphos, rebelled; thinking that time had altered their hard fortunes, by a new change: but alas, they were prevented, & every one cut off by the bloody hands of the turkes. this massacre was committed in the yeare . such alwaies are the torturing flames of fortunes smiles, that he who most affecteth her, she most, and altogether deceiveth: but they who trust in the lord, shall be as stable as mount syon, which cannot be removed; and questionlesse, one day god, in his all-eternall mercie, will relieve their miseries, and in his just judgements, recompence these bloody oppressors with the heavy vengeance of his all-seeing justice. in my returne from nicosia, to famogusta, with my trench-man, we encountered by the way with foure turkes, who needs would have my mule to ride upon; which my interpreter refused: but they in a revenge, pulled me by thee heeles from the mules backe, beating me most pittifully, and left me almost for dead. in this meanewhile my companion fled, and escaped the sceleratnesse of their hands; and if it had not beene for some compassionable greekes, who by accident came by, and relieved me, i had doubtlesse immediately perished. here i remember betweene this ile and sydon that same summer, there were five galleouns of the duke of [a sea cumbat.] florence, who encountred by chance the turkes great armado consisting of . gallies, . galleots, and two galleasses: the admirall of which ships did single out her selfe from the rest, and offered to fight with the whole armado alone; but the turkes durst not, and in their flying backe, the admirall sunke two of their gallies; and had almost seazed upon one of their galleasses, if it had not beene for . gallies, who desperatly adventured to row her away against the wind and so escaped. for true it is, the naturall turkes were never skilfull in menaging of sea battells, neither are they expert mariners, nor experimented gunners, if it were not for our christian runnagates, french, english, and flemings, and they too sublime, accurate, and desperate fellowes; who have taught the turkes the airt of navigation, and especially the use of munition; which they both cast to them, & then become their chiefe cannoniers; the turkes would be as weake and ignorant at sea, as the silly �thiopian, is unexpert in handling of armes on the land. [christiane runagates.] for the private humour of discontented castawayes is alwaies an enemy to publicke good, who from the society of true beleevers, are driven to the servitude of infidells, and refusing the bridle of christian correction, they receive the double yoake of dispaire and condemnation. whose terrour of a guilty conscience, or rather blazing brand of their vexed soules, in forsaking their faith, and denying christ to be their saviour, ramverts most of them, either over in a torment of melancholy, otherwise in the extasie of madnesse: which indeed is a torturing horrour, that is sooner felt then knowne; and cannot be avoided by the rudenesse of nature, but by the saving grace of true felicity. [the city of tripoly.] from the fort and city famogusta, i imbarked in a germo, and arrived at tripoly being . miles distant, where i met with an english ship called the royall exchange of london, lying there at anker in the dangerous road of tripoly, whose loves i cannot easily forget, for at my last good night, being after great cheare, and greater carrousing, they gave me the thundring farewell of three pieces of ordonance. tripoly is a city in syria, standing a mile from the marine side, neere to the foot of mount libanus: since it hath beene first founded, it hath three times beene situated, and removed in three sundry places: first it was overwhelmed with water: secondly, it was sacked with cursares, and pirates: thirdly, it is like now to be overthrowne with new made mountaines of sand: there is no haven by many miles neere unto it, but a dangerous roade, where often when northerly winds blow, ships are cast away. [scanderona.] the great traffique which now is at this place, was formerly at scanderona or alexandretta, a little more eastward; but by reason of the infectious ayre, that corrupted the bloud of strangers, proceeding of two high mountaines; who are supposed to be a part of mount caucasus, which withhold the prospect of the sunne from the in-dwellers, more then three howers in the morning. so that in my knowledge, i have knowne dye in one ship, and a moneths time, twenty marriners: for this cause the christian ships were glad to have their commodities brought to tripoly, which is a more wholesome and convenient place. the dayly interrogation i had here, for a carravans departure to aleppo, was not to me a little fastidious, being mindfull to visite babylon: in this my expectation i tooke purpose, with three venetian merchants, to go see the cedars of libanon, which was but a dayes journey thither. as we ascended upon the mountaine, our ignorant guide mistaking the way, brought us in a laborinth of dangers; insomuch that wrestling amongst intricate paths of rockes: two of our asses fell over a banke, and broke their neckes: and if it had not bene for a christian amaronite, who accidently encountred with us, in our wilesome wandring, we had bene miserably lost: both in regard of rockes, and heapes of snow we passed; and also of great torrents, which fell downe with force, from the steepy tops: wherein one of these merchants was twice almost drowned. when we arrived [the cedars of libanus.] to the place where the cedars grew, we saw but twenty foure of all, growing after the manner of oke-trees, but a great deale taler, straighter, and greater, and the braunches grow so straight, and interlocking as though they were kept by arte. and yet from the roote to the toppe they beare no boughes, but grow straight upward, like to a palme-tree; who as may-poles invelope the ayre, so their circle spred tops, do kisse or enhance the lower cloudes; making their grandure over-looke the highest bodies of all other aspiring trees: and like monarchick lyons to wild beasts, they become the chiefe champions of forrests and woods. although that in the dayes of salomon, this mountaine was over-clad with forrests of cedars, yet now there are but onely these, and nine miles westward thence, seventeene more. the nature of that tree is alwayes greene, yeelding an odoriferous smell, and an excellent kind of fruite like unto apples, but of a sweeter taste, and more wholesome in digestion. the rootes of some of these cedars are almost destroyed by sheepheards, who have made fires thereat, and holes wherein they sleepe; yet neverthelesse they flourish greene above in the tops, and branches. the length of this mountaine is about forty miles, reaching from the west, to the east: and continually, summer and winter, reserveth snow on the tops. it is also beautified with all the ornaments of nature, as herbage, tillage, pastorage, fructiferous trees, fine fountaines, good cornes, and absolutely the best wine that is bred on the earth. [the prince of libanus.] the signior thereof is a freeholder, by birth a turke, and will not acknowledge any superiour, being the youngest sonne of the emeere or prince of sidon, who when his father revolted against achmet, and not being able to make his owne part good, fled into italy, to the duke of florence: and notwithstanding that the elder brother yeelded up sidon, and became a pardond subject to the great turke: yet this the other brother would never yeeld nor surrender, himselfe, the fort, nor the signiory of libanus: the olde prince his father after two yeares exile, was restored againe to his emperours favour; with whom in my second travels, both at lygorne and messina in sicilee, i rancountred: whence the duke of sona that kingdomes viceroy, caused transport him on a stately ship for the levant to sidon: the sidonians or drusians, were first of all french men, who after their expulsion from jerusalem, fled hither to the borders of zebulon and nephtalim, now called phenicia, as i shall make more cleere afterwards. the most part of the inhabited villages are christians, [nestorians.] called amaronites, or nostranes, quasi nazaritans, and are governed by their owne patriarke. there are none at this day, do speake the syriack tongue, save onely these people of mount libanus; and in that language the alcoran of mahomet is written. the kinde amaronite whom we met, and tooke with us for our best guide, in descending from the cedars shewed us many caves and holes in rockes, where coliers, religious siriens and amaronites abide: amongst these austere cottages, i saw [joshuas tombe.] a faire tombe all of one stone, being . foote of length; which (as he said) was the sepulcher of the valiant joshua, who conducted the people of israel to the land of promise. the mahometans esteeme this to be a holy place, and many resort to it in pilgrimage, to offer up their satanicall prayers to mahomet. i saw upon this mountaine, a sort of fruite, called amazza franchi: that is, the death of christians; because when italians, and others of europe, eate any quantity thereof, they presently fall into the bloudy fluxe, or else ingender some other pestilentious fever, whereof they dye. the patriarke did most kindly entertaine us at his house; so did also all the amaronites of the other villages, who met us in our way before we came to their townes, and brought presents with them of bread, wine, figges, olives, sallets, capons, egges, and such like, as they could on a sudden provide. [the bishop of eden on libanus.] this bishop or patriarkes house, is joyned with and hembd in, within the face of an high rocke, that serveth for three sides thereof, the fore and fourth part being onely of mason-worke: neare unto which falleth precipitatly a great torrent over the sassinous banke, that maketh a greivous noyse night and day: which as i told him, me thought it should turne the bishop surdo or starke deafe: but the homely and simple man (not puft with ambition greed, and glorious apparrell, like to our proud prelats of christendome) told me, that continuall custome brought him to despose upon the day, and sleepe better in the night, because of the sounding waters. where reposing with him one night, my muse the next morning saluted libanus with these lines. long and large mount, whose rich-spred mantle, see! affords three colours, to my wandring eye; the first are cornes, in their expectant view, faire barley, rye, and wheate; o hopefull hew! that quickneth the prest plough: and for to eat, it makes new toyle, begin againe to sweat: the second sight are wines, the best on earth, and most delicious in their pleasant birth; they're phisicall, and good t'expell all sorts of burning feavers, in their violent torts: which senators of venice, drinke for health, there's nought so rare, but is attaind by wealth. the third is amiable, o verdure greene! for pastorage, the best that can be seene; drawne nigh the tops, where fire-worne cedars grow, and here, or there, some cooling spots of snow: whence rills doe spring and speedy torrents fall to loose scorchd floures, that burning heat would thrall: here heards frequent, whose pleasant toyles doe rest of mountaines all, on liban, onely best: where piping pan, and silvan doe accord, to lurke with ceres, and make bacchus lord; pitch'd under silent shades; whence eden towne these bounds for paradice, dare firmely crowne: and last, to count these colours; here's delite, the fields are greene, wines yellow, cornes as white. [the nestorian paradice.] about the village of eden, is the most fruitfull part of all libanus, abounding in all sorts of delicious fruits. true it is, the variety of these things, maketh the silly people thinke, the garden of eden was there: by which allegeance, they approve the apprehension of such a sinistrous opinion with these arguments, that mount libanus is sequestrate from the circum-jacent regions, and is invincible for the height, and strengths they have in rocks; and that eden was still reedified by the fugitive inhabitants, when their enemies had ransacked it: also they affirme before the deluge it was so nominate, and after the flood it was repaired againe by japhet, the sonne of noah, who builded joppa, or japhta in palestina. loe there are the reasons they shew strangers for such like informations. [the georgians paradice.] there are with this one, other two supposed places of the earthly paradice: the one is by the turkes, and some ignorant georgians, holden to be at damascus, for the beauty of faire fields, gardens, and excellent fruits there; especially for the tree called [the tree mouslee.] mouslee, which they beleeve hath growne there since the beginning of the world. indeed it is a rare and singular tree, for i saw it at damascus, and others also of the same kind, upon nylus in �gypt: the growth whereof is strange: for every yeare in september it is cut downe hard by the roote, and in five moneths the tree buddeth up a pace againe, bringing forth leaves, flowers, and fruite. the leafe thereof is of such a breadth, that three men may easily stand under the shadow of it, and the apple is bigger then a foot-ball, which is yearely transported for constantinople to the great turke; and there is reserved for a relict of the fruit of the forbidden tree; whence he surstyles himselfe keeper of the earthly paradice. but if he were not surer a greater commander and reserver of a large part of the best bosome of the earth, than he is keeper of that adamian garden; his styles of the earth, and mine of the world, were both alike, and that were just nothing, save onely this, two naked creatures living amongst naked people: or otherwise, if it were to be kept or seene, certainely i would wish to be a postillion, to the great porter, the turke, but not his pedagog, farre lesse his pilgrime. [the chelfane paradice.] the third place by the chelfaines, is thought to be in the east part of mesopotamia, neere to the joyning of tygris, and euphrates; where, so they inhabite: i have oft required of these chelfaines, what reason they had for this conceived opinion: who answered me, they received it from time to time, by the tradition of their ancestors: and because of the river euphrates, and other rivers mentioned in the scriptures, which to this day, detayne their names in that countrey. some hold, that garden of eden extended over all the earth. but contrariwise, it manifestly appeareth by the second chapter of genesis, . . that this garden, that we call paradice, wherein adam was put to dresse it, was a certaine place on earth, containing a particular portion of a countrey, called eden, which boundeth on the river euphrates. to this, and all the rest, i answer, no certainty can be had of the place where eden was, either by reading or travelling, because this river hath beene oft divided in sundry streames: and it is said, that cyrus, when he wonne babylon, did turne the maine channell of euphrates to another course. but howsoever, or wheresoever it be, i resolve my selfe, no man can demonstrate the place, which god for the sinnes and fall of man, did not onely accurse; but also the whole face of the earth. many ancient authors have agreed with the opinion of plato and aristotle, constantly affirming, that mountaines, ilands, and countries, have received great alteration by [violence of seas & waters.] the inundation of rivers, and violence of raging seas. thracia, hath beene divided from bithinia: nigroponti, from thessalia: corfu, from epire: sicilia, from italy: the iles orcades, from scotland, and many other ilands, and countries cut through so in divisions after the same forme. wherefore the more a man contemplate to search the knowledge of eden, and such high misteries (appertaining onely to the creator) the more he shall faile in his purpose, offend god, become foolish, and fantasticall for his paines. but to turne backe to mine itinerary relation, after my returne to tripoly, i departed thence eastward, with a caravan of turkes to aleppo, being ten dayes journey distant. in all this way (leaving scanderon on our left hand) i saw nothing worthy remarking; save onely a few scattered villages, and poore miserable people called turcomani, living in tents, and following their flockes to whom i payed sundry caffars who remove their women, children, and cattell where so they finde fountaines, and good pastorage: like unto the custome of the ancient israelites: which in their vagabonding fashion, did plainely demonstrate the necessity they had to live, rather then any pleasure they had, or could have in their living. they differ also in religion from all the other mahometans in two damnable points: [the turcomans opinion of god & the divell.] the one is, they acknowledge, that there is a god, and that he of him selfe is so gracious, that he neither can, being essentially good doe harme, nor yet will authorize any ill to be done, and therefore more to be loved than feared: the other is, they confesse there is a divell, and that he is a tormentor of all evill doers: and of himselfe so terrible and wicked, that they are contented even for acquisting his favour and kindnesse, to sacrifice in fire their first borne child to him: soliciting his divellishnes, not to torment them too sore when they shall come into his hands: and yet for all this, they thinke afterwards by the mercy of mahomet, they shall goe from hell to paradice. in this immediate or aforesayd passage, we coasted neare and within sixe miles of the limits of antiochia, [antiochians the first christians.] one of the ancient patriarch seas; so called of antiochus her first founder, and not a little glorying to this day, that the disciples of jesus and antiochians were first here named christians. who (nothwithstanding) of their grievous afflictions flourished so that in . yeares they grew a terrour to their enemies; who suggested by the divell cruelly afflicted them with ten generall persecutions, under the emperours, nero anno . domitianus, anno , trajanus, . maximinius, . marcus antonius, . severus, . decius, . valerianus, . aurelianus, . and dioclesian anno . yeares. notwithstanding all which massacres and martyrdome, yet this little graine of mustard seed, planted by gods owne hand, and watered with the blood of so many holy saints, (nam sanguis martirum, semen ecclesiæ est) grew so great a tree, that the branches thereof were dispersed through every city, and province of the whole world. before my arrivall in aleppo, the caravan of babylon was from thence departed, which bred no small griefe in my breast: the venetian consull, to whom i was highly recommended, by the aforesaid merchants, (having had some insight of my intended voyage) informed me, that the caravan stayed at beershake on euphrates, for some conceived report they had of arabs, that lay for them in the desarts, and willed me to hire a janisary, and three souldiers to overhye them; whose counsell i received, [frustrate of babylon.] but was meerely frustrated of my designes. true it was, they staied, but were gone three dayes before my comming to that unhappy place. the distance from whence over land to babylon, or bagdat, being but sixe small or short dayes journey, the losse whereof and the damnable deceit of my janizary made my muse to expresse, what my sorrowfull prose can not performe. the doubts and drifts of the voluble mind that here and there doe flee, turne judgement blind: did overwhelme my heart, in grim despare whilst hope and reason fled, stayd timrous care: and yet the grounds were just; my treacherous guide did nought but crosse me; greed led him aside: still this, still that i would! all i surmise is screwaly stopt: at last my scopes devise to make a boat, to beare me downe alone with drudges two, to ground-chang'd babylon: that could not be, the charges was too great, and eke the streame, did nought but dangers threat: my conduct still deceavd me, made it square another caravan, o! would come there from aleppe, or damascus: till in end most of my moneyes did his knavery spend: thus was i tost long five weekes, and foure dayes with strugling doubts: o strange were these delayes! at last a chelfane came, a christian kind who by my griefe soone understood my mind; and told me flat, the janizaries drift was to extort me with a lingring shift. come, come, sayd he, the sanzacke here is just, let us complaine, for now complayne you must: he with me went, and for a trenchman serv'd and told the ruler, how my conduct swervd: he's calld, and soone convinc'd, and with command forc'd to transport me backe to syriaes land: i'me there arrived, and eftsoones made me bound for the venetian consul: there to sound my great abuses, by this villane done. which soone were heard, and eke repayrd as soone: the bassaw was upright, and for times sake he did me more, then conscience will'd me take. my plaint preferd, he was in prison layd and all my gold, to give me backe was mayd which he had falsely tane: where for his paines he had the losse, and i receivd the gaines: for doubling his wrongs, done, to crosse him more, i got my vantage, from his craft before: and for his ten weekes fees, no more he had than he, thats owner of a ditch-falne jade: thus leaving him, i with the consull bode, full forty dayes, or i went thence abroad. in the eleven dayes journey i had betweene aleppo, and beershack, through a part of syria, the breadth of mesopotamia, and chelfania, a province of the same, joyning with tigris and euphrates, and returning the same way againe; i found nothing worthy of remarkinge save the fertility of the soyle: [mesopotamia.] which indeed in mesopotamia, yeeldeth two crops of wheate in the yeare, and for a bushell sowing, in diverse places, they recoyle a hundreth againe. the countrey it selfe is overcled with infinit villages, having no eminent towne of any note or consequence, except the city of carahemen the seat of a beglerbeg, who commandeth under him fourteene sanzacks, and twenty sixe thousand timariots. the people here are for the most part beleevers in christ, but alas too silly, untoward, and ignorant christians: and yet though without learning, or great understanding therein, they are wonderfull zealous in their profession, and great sufferers for it also. [beershack.] this barbarous towne of beershacke, being situate on euphrates standeth in the chelfaines countrey, and is supposed to have beene padan-aram, where laban dwelt, and where jacob kept labans sheepe, though some interpret all mesopotamia, then to have beene called padanaram: from whence north-east, and not farre hence are the demolished fragments of ninivie on tigris, whose very ruines are now come to ruine: the decayes whereof being much semblable to that sacked lacedemon in sparta, or to the stony heapes of jerico, the detriments of thebes, the relicts of tyrus, or to the finall overthrow of desolate troy. this countrey of chelfaine, is the place most agreeable with scripture, where the earthly paradice was once set, though now impossible to be found out. [mesopotamia.] mesopotamia is seldome watered with raine, but by the nature of the soile is marvellous fruitfull: it is bordred with caldea, on the east: euphrates on the south: syria on the north: and arabia petrea on the west. this aleppo is a city in syria; the name of which hath beene so oft changed by turkes, that the true antiquity of it, can hardly be knowne: it is both large and populous, and furnished with all sorts of merchandize, especially of indigo, and spices, that are brought over land from goa, & other places in india, which draweth a concurrance of all nations to it. [a notable obedience.] here i remember of a notable obedience done to the great turke, by the great bassaw of aleppo, who was also an emeere, or hereditary prince: to wit, the yeare before my comming hither, he had revolted against his emperour, and fighting the bassawes of damascus, and carahemen, overcame them: the yeare following, and in my being there, the grand signior sent from constantinople a showse, and two janisaries in ambassage to him: where, when they came to aleppo, the bassaw was in his owne countrey at mesopotamia: the messengers make hast after him, but in their journey they met him comming backe to aleppo, accompanied with his two sonnes, and sixe hundred horse-men. upon the high way they delivered their message, where he stood still, and heard them: the proffer of achmet was, that if he would acknowledge his rebellion, and for that treason committed send him his head, his eldest sonne should both inherit his possessions, and bassawship of aleppo, otherwise he would come with great forces in all expedition, and in his proper person he would utterly raze him and all his, from the face of the earth. at which expression, the bassaw knowing that he was not able to resist the invincible armie of his master, and his owne presence, he dismounted from his horse, and went to counsell with his sonnes, and nearest friends: where he, and they concluded, it was best for him to dye, being an old man, to save his race undestroyed, and to keepe his sonne in his authority and inheritance: this done, the bassaw went to prayer, and taking his leave of them all, sate downe upon his knees, where the showse [the bassa of aleppo beheaded.] stroke off his head, putting it in a boxe, to carry it with him for constantinople. the dead corps were carried to aleppo and honourably buried, for i was an eye witnesse to that funerall feast: and immediatly thereafter, the showse by proclamation and power from the emperour, fully possessed the sonne in his fathers lands, offices, bassawship, and the authority of all the easterne syria, part of mesopotamia, and the assyrian countrey; for this bassaw of aleppo is the greatest in commandement and power of all the other bassawes in the turkes dominions; except the bassa, or beglerbeg of damascus; and yet the former in hereditary power, farre exceedeth the other; being a free emeer, and thereupon a prince borne: the force of his commandement reacheth to eighteene sanzacks, and thirty thousand timariots, besides janisaries, and other inferiour souldiers, which would make up as many more. this city is called in the scriptures aram-sobab, . sam. . . and aleppo of alep, which signifieth milke, whereof there is a great plenty here: there are pigeons brought up here as after an incredible manner, who will flie betweene aleppo, and babylon, being thirty dayes [flying pigeons with letters.] journey distant in forty eight houres: carrying letters and newes, which are tied about their neckes, to merchants of both townes, and from one to another; who onely are imployed in the time of hasty and needfull intendements; their education to this tractable expedition is admirable, the flights and arrivals of which i have often seene in the time of my wintering in aleppo, which was the second winter after my departure from christendome. [syria.] syria hath on the east armenia major: on the south mesopotamia: on the north cilicia and the sea: on the west gallilee and phoenicia: in the bible the syrians are called aramites, who were an obscure people subject to the persians, and subdued by alexander: after whose death this countrey, with persia, and other adjacent provinces fell to the share of seleucus nicanor; who also wrested from the successors of antigonus, the lesser asia. this kingdome hath suffered many alterations, especially by the persians, grecians, armenians, romanes, �gyptians, lastly, by the turkes, and dayly molested by the incursive arabs. in my expectation here, and the spring come, (being disappointed of my desired aimes) i pretended to visite jerusalem in my backe-comming; and for the furtherance of my determination, i joyned with a caravan of armenians, and turkes, that were well guarded with janisaries, and souldiers; of whom some were to stay at damascus by the way, and some mindfull to the furthest marke. and for my better safegard (being alwaies alone which by all, was ever much admired) the venetian consull tooke surety of the captaine, that he should protect me safely from theeves, cut-throates, and the exactions of tributes by the way, delivering me freely into the hands of the padre guardiano at jerusalem: which being done, i hired a mule from a turke, to carry my victuals; and so set forward with them. the number of our company [a caravan of armenians.] were about . armenians, christian pilgrimes, men and women: . turkes trafficking for their owne businesse, and . souldiers, three showsses, and sixe janizaries, to keepe them from invasions. betweene aleppo and damascus, we had nine dayes journey, in five of which, we had pleasant travelling, and good canes to lodge in, that had beene builded for the support of travellers, and are well maintained: but when we passed hamsek, which is a little more then midway, we had dangerous travelling, being oft assailed with arabs, fatigated with rocky mountaines, and sometimes in point of choaking for lacke of water. the confusion of this multitude, was not onely grievous in regard of the extreame heate, providing of victuals at poore villages, and scarcity of water, to fill our bottles, made of boare-skinnes; but also amongst narrow and stony passages, thronging, we oft fell one over another, in great heapes; in danger to be smothered: yea; and oftentimes we that were christians, had our bodies well beaten, by our conducting turkes. in this journeying i remember the turke who ought my mule, was for three dayes exceeding favourable unto me, in so much, that i began to doubt of his carriage, fearefully suspecting the italian proverbe. chi mi famiglior, che non ci suole, ingannato mi ha, o ingannar mi vuole. he that doth better now, to me than he was wont, he hath deceiv'd, or wil deceive, me with some sad affront. but when i perceived, his extraordinary service and [pagan flattery.] flattery, was onely to have a share of the tobacco i carried with me, i freely bestowed a pound thereof upon him: which he and his fellowes tooke as kindly, as though it had beene a pound of gold, for they are excessively adictted to smoake, as dutch men are to the pot: which ever made me to carry tobacco with me, to acquist their favour, over and above their fials, more then ever i did for my owne use: for in these dayes i tooke none at all, though now as time altereth every thing, i am (honoris gratia) become a courtly tobacconist; more for fashion then for liking: the turkish tobacco pipes are more than a yard long and commonly of wood or canes, beeing joynd in three parts, with lead or white iron; their severall mouths receaving at once, a whole ounce of tobacco; which lasteth a long space, and because of the long pipes, the smoake is exceeding cold in their swallowing throates. at our accustomed dismounting to recreate our selves, and refresh the beasts, i would often fetch a walke, to stretch my legs, that were stifled with a stumbling beast; wherewith the turkes were mightily discontented, and in derision would laugh, and mocke me: for they cannot abide a man to walke in turnes, or stand to eate; their usage being such, that when they come from the horse backe, presently sit downe on the ground, folding their feete under them, when they repose, dine, and suppe. so doe also their artizans and all the turkes in the world sit allwayes crosse legged, wrongfully abusing the commendable consuetude of the industrious tailors. in their houses they have no bed to lye on, nor chaire to sit on, nor table to eate on, but a bench made of boords along the house side, of a foot high from the floore, spred over with a carpet; whereon they usually sit eating, drinking, sleeping, resting, and doing of manuall exercises, all in one place. neither will the best sort of mahometans be named turkes, because it signifieth banished in the hebrew tongue, and therefore they call [turkes are called musilmans.] themselves musilmans, to wit, good beleevers: where in deed for good, it is a false epithite, but certainely for firme beleevers they are wonderfull constant; and so are all ignorants of whatsoever profession: even like to the spaniard, who in the midst of all his evills, yet he remaineth alwaies fidele to all the usurpations, the hispanicall crowne can compasse. they never unclothe themselves when they goe to rest, neither have they any bed-clothes, save onely a coverlet above them: i have seene hundreds of them after this manner, lie ranked like durty swine, in a beastly stie, or loathsome jades in a filthy stable. upon the ninth day (leaving cotafa behind us on the mountaines) we entred in a pleasant plaine of three leagues of length, adorned with many villages, gardens, and rivers; and arriving at damascus, we were all lodged (some in chambers wanting beds, and others without, on hard stones) in a great cane called heramnen, where we stayed three dayes. having all which time given us twice a day provision for our selves and provender for our beasts gratis; being allowed by the grand signior to all kind of strangers whatsoever; that come to damascus with any caravan; being a singular comfort and advantage to weary and extorted travellers. [damascus is called shamma.] damascus is the capitall citie of syria, called by turkes, shamma, and is situated on a faire plaine, and beautified with many rivers on each side, (especially paraphar and abdenah) excellent orchards, and all other naturall objects of elegancy: that for situation, artizens, all manner of commodities, and varietie of fruits, in all the asiaticall provinces it is not paralelled. by turkes it is called, the garden of turkie, or rather their earthly paradice, because of a fenced garden there, where a garison of turkes lie continually keeping that tree mouslee, whereon as they alledge the forbidden aple grew, wherewith the serpent deceived eve, and shee adam, and from whence the great turke is also styled, keeper of the terrestriall paradice. [the antiquitie of damascus.] some hold this citie was built by eleazer the servant of abraham; and other say it is the place where caine slew abel, where indeed it is most likely to be so: for hard by damascus i saw a pillar of brasse erected there for a commemoration of that unnaturall murther of cain executed upon his innocent brother. but howsoever i perswade thee, it is a pleasant and gallant citie, well walled, and fortified with a strong castle, wherein the bassaw remaineth: the most part of the streets are covered, so that the citizens are preserved in summer from the heat, and in winter from the raine. the like commoditie (but not after that forme) hath padua in lombardy: their bazar, or market place is also covered, so are commonly all the bazars or bezestans in turky: the best carobiers, adams apples, and grenadiers that grow on the earth is here: neare unto the bazar there is a moskie called gemmah, wherein my guide shewed me the sepulcher of ananias, and the fountaine where he baptized paul: in another street, i saw the house of ananias, which is but a hollow celler under the ground, and where the disciples let paul downe through the wall in a basket: in the street where they fell their viæno, my interpreter shewed me a great gate of fine mettall, which he sayd was one of the doores of the temple of salomon, and was transported thence, by the tartarians, who conquered jerusalem about three hundred and eighty yeares agoe, who for the heavy weight thereof, were enforced to leave it here, being indeede a relicke of wonderfull bignesse: and i saw also such aboundance of rose-water here in barrels, to be sold, as beere or wine is rife with us. this paradisiat shamma, is the mother city, and most beautiful place of all asia, resembling every way (the tectures of her houses excepted being platforme) that matchlesse patterne and mirrour of beauty, the city of antwerp. the onely best shables, or short crooked swords, that be in the world are made here; and so are all other their weapons, as halfe pikes, bowes, and arrowes, and baluckoes of steele, that horse-men carry in their hands: their shafts being three foot long, their heads great and round, and sharply guttered; wherewith they use to braine or knocke downe their enemies in the field. [the forces of the bassa of damascus.] the beglerbeg or bassa of damascus, is the greatest of commandement of all other bassaes in asia: having under his authority (as he is under his emperour) twenty two sanzacks, and they conducting under all the aforesayd three, forty thousand timariots or horse-men, besides two thousand janizaries, which are the guard of the bassa, and garrison of the citty. his beglerbership extendeth over the greater halfe of syria, a part of the two arabiaes foelix and petrea, phenicia, galilee, samaria, palestina, judea, jerusalem, idumea, and al the northerne parts of arabia desartuous, even to the frontiers of egipt. the meanes of the preservation of so great a state, is only by an induced confidence upon the power, and force of those timariots who as well have their pay and locall grounds of compensation in time of tranquillitie, as warres, to defend these countries, from the incursions of the wilde arabs, which evermore annoy the turkes, and also strangers: and cannot possibly be brought to a quiet, and well formed manner of living; but are continuall spoilers of these parts of the turkes dominions. that mischiefe daily increaseth, rather then any way diminisheth. they taking example from the beastly turkes, adde by these patterns more wickednesse, to the badnesse of their owne dispositions: [savage arabian robbers.] so that every one of these savages, according to his power, dealeth with all men uncivilly & cruelly, even like a wildernesse full of wilde beasts, living all upon rapine and robbery, wanting all sense of humanity, more then a shew of appearance: whereby being combind together, doe tyrannize over all, even from the red sea to babylon. thus they in that violent humour, invading also these of affricke, hath caused grand cayro to be furnished with thirty thousand timariots, which defend the frontiers of �gypt and gozan: leaving all the turkes at damascus (save onely our janizaries and souldiers) within the space of two houres after our departure from thence travelling in the way to jerusalem; the whole armenians fell downe on the ground, kissing it, and making many sincere demonstrations of unwonted devotion. at the which i being amazed, stood gazing, asking my trench man, what newes? who replied, saying, it was the place where s. paul was converted, which they had (and all christianes should have) in great regard. the place was covered with an old chappell, and, more like some relict, of exstirpd decay, than for a monument, reard for the way. to blaze on pauls conversion: yet it's true the worke was done, even by the christiane jew, or jacobine: a circumcised kind, who beare to franks, a most respective mind: three dayes were we betwixt damascus, and the east part of galilie, which is the beginning of canaan: in two of which three, we encountred with marishes and quagmires, being a great hinderance to us: this barren, and marish countrey, is a part of arabia petrea, comming in with a point betweene galilee, and syria, running along even to the south-west skirt of libanus, which indeed in that place, farre more than jordan divideth the true syria from canaan; this petrean countrey it selfe, devalling even downe to the limits of jacobs bridge, cutteth away the denomination of syria, from this parcell of ground, till you come eastward to the more laborious plaines. [a dangerous way.] through this passage, it is most undoubtedly a very theevish way; for as we travelled in the night, there were many of us forced to carry burning lights in our hands, and our souldiers had their harquebuzes ready to discharge: all to affray the blood-thirsty arabians, who in holes, caves, and bushes, lie obscured, waiting for the advantage upon travellers: not unlike unto the lawlesse wood carnes in ireland. this part of arabia is called petrosa, because it is so rockie, and some thinke of petra the chiefe towne: it was aunciently divided in two regions nabathia, and agara, possessed first by the hagarens, discended of abraham and hagar: it is also thought to be the land of the midianites whether moses fled to, and kept sheepe; and mount horeb is here, whereon the lord did shew him the land of promise. divers of these petrean arabs, converse, and dwell amongst the turkes; whom we tearme in respect of the other, civill arabs. south from hence, lieth arabia fælix bordering with the indian sea; which is the most fruitfull and pleasant soyle in all asia; abounding with balsamo, myrrhe, and frankincense, gold and pearles, especially about medina, the second citie to meccha: the other townes of note are horan, the chiefe port of the south ocean, and alteroch, the only towne where christians are in greatest number in that countrey. truely with much difficulty, and greater danger passed we these [arabia petrea.] petrean journeys. here i remarked a singular qualitie, and rare perfection, in the carefull conduction of our captaine; who would, when we came to any dangerous place, give the watch-word of st. johanne, meaning as much thereby, that none should speake or whisper after that warning under the paine of a harquebusado. and no more we durst, unlesse he had stretcht out his hand, making us a signe (when occasion served) of liberty, least by our tumultuous noyse in the night, our enemies should have the fore-knowledge of our comming; and knowing also that the nature of a multitude, bred all times confused effects, without some severe punishment. him selfe rod stil in the vangard, upon a lusty gelding, with two janizaries, and forty souldiers, and the other foure janizaries and sixty souldiers, were appointed to be the backe-gard, for feare of sudden assaults. thus, most dexteriously discharged he the function of his calling, not with insolencie, but with prudent and magnanimous virilitie: for my part, i must needs say, the diligent care of that benigne caravan extended over me, was such, that whensoever i remember it, i am not able to sacrifice congratulations sufficiently to his well-deserving mind: yet in the meane while, my purse bountifully rewarded his earnest endevours; and notwithstanding, of this high conceived regard, yet in some frivolous things, and for a small trifle, he privately wronged me, which i misknew, as unwilling (knowing his disposition, and that my life hung in his hands) to be too forward to seeke a redresse. for oftentimes an [a corrupted caravan.] inconvenience is most convenient; and as the great corrupter of youth is pleasure, and the violent enemy of age is griefe; even so are the inordinate desires of inconscionable strangers toward travellers, who preferring avarice above honesty, care onely for that part of a man which is his fortune, whose friendship beginning onely in an outward show, must end in the midst of a mans money; as who would say, such like were rather imployed, as their imployments rewarded, and therefore in unlawfull things they must sucke the honey of their owne preposterous ends: and thus it fared with him, at the paying of my tributes, by the way for my head, he caused me oft to pay, more then reason, to the moores, turkes, and civill arabs, receiving secretly backe from them the over-plus; which my turkish servant perceiving, made my trenchman tell me, that i might be fore-seene therein. but such is the covetous nature of man, that with his covenant he cannot be contented, unlesse he seeke otherwise, by all unlawfull meanes to purchase himselfe an unjust gaine: but the high respect i had of his other perfections, made me oversee and winke at that imperfection of avaritiousnesse in him; and especially remembring my selfe to be under his protection, i alwayes endeavoured my aimes so, that in his sight, i wonne extraordinary favour: insomuch, that in danger, or securitie, he would ever have me neere by him, which i also craved, and strove to observe the points of his will, and my owne safety. the obligation of my bounden duety, taught me to no other end, then ever to respect the benevolence of his affection, and to suppresse my owne weake judgement, which could never mount to the true acquittance of his condigne merit. but to proceed in my pilgrimage, on the aforesaid third day, in the after-noone, we entred in galilee, passing along a faire bridge, that is over the river jordan, which divideth a part of this stony arabia from galilee. [jacobs bridge.] this bridge by the armenians, is called jacobs bridge; and not farre hence, they shewed me the place, where jacob wrestled with the angell, and where esau met his brother jacob, to have killed him being upon the east side of the river: jordan is scarcely knowne by the name in this place: but afterward i saw his greater growth, ending in sodome, whereof in the owne place, i shall more amply discourse: betweene jacobs bridge and jerusalem, we had sixe dayes journey, five whereof were more pleasant than profitable, in regard of the great tributs i payd by the way for my head, that at sundry places and into one day, i have payd for my freedome in passage twelve chickens of gold, amounting to five pounds eight shillings of english money: a journall tribute more fit for a prince to pay, than a pilgrime; the admiration onely resting upon this, how i was furnished with these great moneyes i dayly disbursed. aprill the eighteene day, according to the computation of the romane calender, and by ours, march the eight and twenty, i entred in galilee, a province of canaan; this countrey was first called canaan from canan the sonne of cham: secondly the land of promise, because it was promised by the lord to abraham and his seed to possesse: thirdly, the land of israel, of the israelites, so called from jacob, who was surnamed israel: fourthly, judea, from the jewes, or the people of the tribe of judah: fifthly, palestine quasi philistim, the land of the philistins. and now sixtly, terra sancta, the holy land, because herein was wrought many wonderfull miracles, but especially the worke of our salvation. it is in length . and in breadth . miles: yet of that salubrity of aire and fertility of soyle, flowing with milke and hony, that before the comming of the israelites it maintayned thirty kings, with their people, and afterward the two potent kingdomes of israel and judah; in which david numbred one million and . fighting men, besides them of the tribe of benjamin and levi: it is most certayne, that by the goodnesse of the climate and soile, especially by the [canaan greatly changed.] blessing of god, it was the most fruitfull land in the world: but by experience, i find now the contrary, and the fruitfulnes thereof to be changed, god cursing the land together with the jewes, then the (but now dispersed) inhabitants thereof. neither are the greatest part of these easterne countries so fertile, as they have beene in former ages, the earth as it were growing olde, seemeth weary to beare the burthen of any more encrease; and surely the two eyes of day and night, with the planets, and starres, are become neyther so forcible, so bright, nor warme as they have beene: time from olde antiquity, running all things to devasted desolation, making the strong things weake, and weake things feeble, at last it returneth all things to just nothing: and there is the end of all beginnings, and an infallible argument of the dissolution to come by the day of judgement. as things that are, still vanish from our eye, so things that were, againe shall never be: the whirlwind of time, still so speedy posts, that like it selfe, all things therein, it tosts. the jewes are also tearmed hebrai, or hebrewes from heber one of abrahams progenitors, or hebræ quasi abrahæi: who at their discent into egypt, were but seventy soules being the issue of jacob, and his twelve sonnes. the posterity of which patriarchy, continued in bondage two hundred and fifteene yeares, till in the yeare of the world, two thousand foure hundred fifty three: at which time, the lord commiserating their heavy oppressions under the egyptians, delivered them with a strong hand, and placed them here: which then was inhabited by the hittites, amorites, perisits, and jebusits. [the holy land.] canaan is divided into five provinces, viz. judea, galilee, palestina, samaria, and phenicia: some divide it only in three, palestina, judea, and galilee: it hath beene by others also nominated in generall, syria, by which calculation, they gathered all the countries from cilicia to egypt under that name. but howsoever they differ in descriptions, it is most certayne, that at this day, it is onely, and usually divided into these five particular provinces: galilee, and palestina, for the present, are the most fertile and largest provinces thereof, especially galilee, which in some parts, yeeldeth graine twice a yeare, and for abundance of silke, cotton-woole, delicate wines, hony, oyle, and fruites of all kindes; i hold it never a whit more decayed now, than at any time when the glory of israel was at the highest: this province of galilee is forty eight miles long, and twenty five broad, having phenicia to the north: samaria to the west: jordan to the south: and to the east and north-east, a part or poynt of arabia-petrosa, and the south-west end of libanus. after we had travailed a great way, along the lake of genasareth, which is of length eight leagues, and large foure: where i saw the decayed townes of bethsaida, and tyberias, lying on the north-side of the same sea, we left the marine, and came to cana, to stay all night: in which wee had no canes to save us from the arabs, nor coverture above our heads, but the hard ground to lye on, which was alwayes my bed, in the most parts of asia: in the night, when we slept, the souldiers kept centinell, and in the day, when we reposed, they slept, and we watched. [cana in galilee.] this cana was the towne wherein our saviour wrought the first miracle, converting at the marriage, water into wine: and is now called by the turkes callieros or calinos, being a towne composed of two hundred fire houses: the inhabitants beeing partly arabs, partly jewes, and partly some christian georgians: the circumjacent fieldes, beeing both fertile, delectable, and plaine. the day following, imbracing our way, wee passed over a little pleasant mountayne, where the armenian patriarke (for so was there one with them) went into an old chappell, and all the rest of the pilgrimes thronged about him, using many strange ceremonies, for it was in that place (as they sayd) where christ fed five thousand people, with five barley loaves, and two fishes. and indeede was very likely to have beene the place: the auncient chappell, showing as yet some beautiful decorements, do dignifie both the monument, and the memory of the founder thereof. continuing our journey, wee saw mount tabor on our left hand, which is a pretty round mountaine, beset about with comely trees: i would gladly have seene the monument of that place, where the transfiguration of christ was: but the caravan, mindfull to visite nazareth, left the great way of jerusalem, and would by no perswasion go thither. that night we lodged in a poore village, called heerschek, where we could get neither meate for our selves, nor provender for the beasts, but some of our company for their supper, had a hundred stroakes from the moores and arabs in that place, because the christian pilgrimes had troden upon the graves of their dead friends, which by no meanes they can tollerate: they made no small uproare amongst us, desperately throwing stones and darts, till we were all glad to remove halfe a mile from that place; and the next morning we passed by [cæsarea philippi.] cæsarea philippi which is now so miserably decayed, that the ruined towne affordeth not above twenty foure dwelling houses, being for ruines, a second towne, to sacked samaria, or another spectacle of time like to the now ragged towne of the moorish bethulia: it was built by philip one of the tetrarchs in honour of tiberius cæsar, and now called by the moores hedarasco. here was herod smitten by the angels, and eaten of wormes, after the sycophanticall people called his rethoricall oration, the voyce of god, and not of man: here our saviour healed the woman of the bloody fluxe, and raised from death to life the daughter of jairus: here s. peter baptized cornelius, and s. paul disputed against tertullius in the presence of felix. aprill the . day, about ten of the clocke, (passing the river kyson) we arrived at nazareth, and there reposed till the evening, providing our selves of victuals and water: in this towne dwelt joseph, and the virgin mary; and in which also our saviour was brought up under the vigilant care of joseph and mary. after wee had dined, the armenians arose, and went to a heape of stones, the ruines of an old house, before the which they fell downe upon their knees; praysing god: and that ruinous lumpe (say they) was the house where mary dwelt, when gabriel saluted her, bringing the annunciation of salvation to the world: i am fully perswaded, they carried away above five thousand pounds weight, to keepe in a [a counter buffet for loretta.] memoriall thereof: then did i remember of the chappell of loretta, and told the caravan, that i saw that house standing in italy, which (as the romanists say) was transported by the angels: o, said he, we armenians cannot beleeve that, neither many other assertions of the roman church; for we certainely know by christians, that have from time to time dwelt here ever since, that this is both the place, and stones of the house: let papists coyne a new law to themselves, we care not, for as they erre in this, so doe they erre in all, following meerely the traditions of men, they runne galloping post to hell. the patriarke being informed by the laughing caravan of these newes, asked me in disdaine (thinking it had beene an article of my beliefe) if i saw that house, or beleeved that the chappell of loretta was such a thing: to whom i constantly answered, i did not beleeve it, affirming it was onely but a divellish invention, to deceive the blind-folded people, and to fill the coffers of the romane priests: now thou bottomlesse gulfe of papistry, here i forsake thee, no winter-blasting furies of satans subtile stormes, can make ship-wracke of my faith, on the stony shelfes of thy deceitfull deepes. thus, and after this manner too: are all the illusions of their imaginary and false miracles, first invented partly by monasteriall poverty, then confirmed by provincial bribery, and lastly they are faith-sold for consistoricall lucre. in the time of our staying here, the emeere or lord of the towne sent sixe women, conducted by . of his servants, to an armenian prince, that was a pilgrime in our company; to be used by him and others, [libidinous leachery.] whom so he would elect to be his fellow labourers: which indeed he did kindly accept, & invited me to that feast: but i gave him the refusall, little regarding such a frivolous commodity. he, and some of the chiefest pilgrimes entertained them for the space of . houres, and sent them backe, giving to their conductors fifteene piasters, in a reward. truely if i would rehearse the impudency of these whoores, and the bruitishnesse of the armenians, as it is most ignominious to the actors; so no doubt, it would be very loathsome to the reader. such is the villanie of these orientall slaves under the turkes; that not onely by conversing with them, learne some of their damnable hethnicke customes, but also going beyond them in beastly sensualnesse, become worse then bruite beasts: this maketh me remember a worthy saying of that heathnish romane emperour marcus aurelius, who in consideration of fleshly lusts, said; that although he were sure, that the gods would not punish him for the offence; yet he would forbeare it, in regard of the filthinesse of the fact it selfe: indeed of a pagane a noble and vertuous resolution, when such base and beastly christianes, these wretched armenians, committed with these infidelish harlots a twofold kind of voluptuous abhomination, which my conscience commands me to conceale: least i frequent this northern world, with that which their nature never knew, nor their knowledge have heard hearing of the like: but god in his just judgements, that same night, threatned both to have punished the doers, and the whole company for their sakes: for we having resolved to travell all that night, and because the way was rocky, and hard to be knowne, and perillous for arabs; we hired a christian guide, named joab, and agreed with him to take us to lidda, which was two dayes journey. but before we advanced to our passage, joab had sent a privie messenger before us, to warne about three hundred arabs (who had their abode on the south side [a villanous plot.] of mount carmell) to meete him at such a place as he had appointed; giving them to know, wee were rich and well provided with chickens and sultans of gold, and piasters of silver; and that he should render us into their hands for such a recompense and consideration, as their savage judgements should thinke fit; according to the spoyles and booties they should obtaine, together with the miserable murder and losse of our lives. this being done, and unknowne to us, we marched along, travelling faster then our ordinary pace, some on horse, and some on foote, for my pilgrimage was ever pedestriall: which our guide suspecting, that by our celerity wee should goe beyond the place appointed for his treacherous plot, began to crosse us grievously; leading us up and downe amongst pooles and holes, whither he listed; where many of our camels & asses were lost, and could not be recovered, because we all began to suspect and feare; which was the cause that the owners durst not stay to relieve their perishing beasts. in the end, the captaine and janisaries, intreated him earnestly to bring us in the right way; but the more they requested, the more obdurat was his heart, replying, he was mistaken, and could not finde it, till day light: upon the which words, the company was stayed, and in the meanewhile there came a turke, one of our souldiers unto the captaine, saying; he saw the guide, before our [a treacherous guide.] departure from nazareth, send a moore before him, for what respect he knew not, being long at privat conference. whereupon, they straight bound him with ropes, on a horse backe, threatning him with death, to cause him confesse the trueth. in the midst of this tumult, i having got sight of the north-starre, (which seemd exceeding low to me) considered thereby, that the villaine had led us more to the southward, then to the westward, which was our way to jerusalem: whereupon i intreated the caravan to turne our faces northward, otherwise we should be cut off, and that suddenly: for although (said i) it may peradventure be, that we are three or foure miles short of the place intended for our massacre, yet they missing us, will like ravening wolves hunt here and there; wherefore, if we incline to the north, (god willing) we shall prevent their bloody designes. to the which advice (being duely pondered) they yeelded; and so i became their guide, in that darke night, till morning: for none of them knew that starre, neither the nature of it. at last this desperate wretch considering that either by our vanquishing, or the enemies victory, he could not escape, sith his treason was revealed; began to beg pardon of the caravan, saying that if he could have any surety of his life, he would sufficiently informe us, how to eschew these eminent dangers, for we were all in extreame perill of our lives; and not so much courage nor comfort left us, as the very smallest hope of any reliefe. the captaine being distracted with feare, replied he would, and thereupon swore a solemne oath, so did the janisaries sweare by the head of mahomet, for the like effect: which being done, he was untied, and confessed, that if we had continued in our way, he led us, wee had beene all put to the edge of the sword: and falling down on his knees, cried oft with teares, mercy, mercy, mercy. all that night we went with the starre, and against morning wee were in the westerne confines of phoenicia, and at the beginning of palestine, close by the marine, and within halfe a mile of tyrus. this sometimes renowned [tyrus is called sur.] citty of tyrus, called now by the moores sur, was famous for her purples, and collonies dispersed over all the world by her citizens; and once a kingdome of great antiquity and long continuance. the most worthiest of her kings, were hiram in strict bond of confederacy, with salomon, and pigmalion the brother of dido, who built carthage: this seat, giving way to the persian monarchy, was about the overthrow of darius, beleagured by alexander: who had so much adoe with extraordinary expence of men, money, and great labour to conquer it, being then separated from the maine continent, by the sea, but now joyned to the firme land: and before you come to the citty, there lyeth a great banke of sand, where it is likely the sea hath beene in alexanders time: though now, as time altereth every thing, the sea be fled from that place, which maketh that ruinous towne seeme more desolate. at the breach of day, i, and certaine armenians went to visite this decayed towne, and found the most famous ruines here, that the world for memory can affoord, and a delicious incircling harbour, inclos'd within the middle of the towne, fit to receive smal barkes, frigots, and galleots: the compassing fore-face whereof, beeing all of foure squard marble and alabaster stones: the most part of all which houses have stood on pillars of the same stones: the [the ruines of tyrus.] infinite number whereof, may as yet bee, (above and below the sands) perspectively beheld. there be onely some nineteene fire houses heere, which are moores: and is now under the emeere of the drusians, who remayneth in sydon. the east part of this countrey aboundeth in balme, honny, and oyle, and was the seate of asher of whom moses prophecied, deut. . . that hee should dippe his feete in oyle. here these egyptian moores, for so they were first bred there: brought us to a pillar lying upon the ground, of nine severall colours of marble, being one intire stone, and the length of it was twenty two foot of my measure, and eight in compasse: which sayd they, was one of the [sampsons pillar.] pillars that sampson pulled downe upon the philistines at the houre of his death. to whom i answered, that sampson dyed at azath, the furthest south-west part of palestine, where hee bore downe the house of dagon, upon the philistines: and i thinke the auncient tyrians, sayd i, could not transport that pillar so far hither: but they the more constantly affirmed it, and so did these armenians that were with mee confirme it also, some of whom, had beene twice there before: yet howsoever it was, i brought home a pound weight of it, and presented the halfe thereof, to king james of blessed memory. here by accident, in returning backe to the caravan, i met with an english factor, named maister brockesse, who then remayned at sydon, eighteene miles from this place, and had been downe at acre, about some negotiations: who indeede eftsoones, and kindly tooke mee into a moorish house by the sea side, and one of his acquaintance: where instantly we swallowed downe such joviall and deep carrouses of leaticke wine, that both hee and i, were almost fastned in the last plunge of understanding: yet neverthelesse, he conveyed me backe to my company, and put me safe into the hands of the caravan, with whom afterwards i diverse times met with here at london; to whose kindnesse i celebrate the memory of these lines. but now the sunne discovering the earth, and the night banished to the inferiour world, we were all encouraged, for the light of day lends comfort: the captaine (sending backe that false judas, for so was he sworne to do) sent a post to tyrus for a new guide, who came forthwith, and brought us in our way to mount carmell, for by it we [the towne of sarepta.] behoved to go; and in our way we met with the desolate towne of sarepta nigh thereunto adjoyning, where elias was sustained in a great famine by a widdow, whose sonne he raised from death. great are the mercies of god, for as he hath made man an excellent creature, so hath he also indued him with two great powers in his mind: the one a wise power of understanding, by which he penetrateth into the knowledge of things: the other a strong power of dexterous resolving; whereby he executeth things well understood, for we having judged the worst, resolved the best: and by his almighty providence were freed from that apparent danger, although the former dayes whoredome, and unnaturall vices, deserved a just punishment. this i intimate to all travellers in generall, that if they would that god should further them in their attempts, blesse their voyages, and graunt them a safe returne to their native countries (without the which, what contentment have they for all their paines) that they would constantly refraine from whoredome, drunkennesse, and too much familiarity with strangers: for a traveller that is not temperate, and circumspect in all his actions, although he were headed like that herculean serpent hydra, yet it is impossible he can returne in safety from danger of turkes, arabs, moores, wild beasts, & the deadly operative extremities of heat, hunger, thirst, and cold. approaching to mount carmell, and leaving it upon our right hand betweene us and the marine coast, i beheld a farre off upon the top of the hill, the place where elias ascended to heaven, when he left his cloake behind him to elizeus his disciple. this mountaine is foure miles of length, lying south and north, the north end bordering with the sea, neare to acre, called anciently ptolomæis, and the south end joyning with the borders of samaria, through the which confine we past. [samaria.] leaving samaria on our left hand, we entred into a faire plaine, adorned with fruitfull trees, and all other ornaments that pleasant fields affoord, but no village wee saw. marching thus about the declining of the sunne from the meridian, we came in sight of two hundred pavillions, all pitched in rankes; yeelding the prospect of a little citie, by a brooke side of water: which being perceived, the captaine began to censure what they might be; and immediately there came riding towards us, sixe naked fellowes, well mounted on arabian geldings, who demanded what wee were? and whither we were bound with such a multitude; and if there were any franks of christendome in our company. to whom the janisaries replied, we were purposed to jerusalem, and that there was but one franke with them: upon the which they presently sought me, demanding caffar, caffar; that was tribute for my head, & caused me perforce notwithstanding of the resisting caravan, and janizaries, to pay them presently for my life seven chickens of gold, seven times nine shillings starling: and this is, because sayd they our king is resident in these tents, and therefore we have tripled his tribute: and yet were they discontented, because there were no moe franks in our company, for from the armenians, they could not, nor would not seeke any tribute, because they were tributary slaves and subjects to the great turke: neither also of any other christiane borne in his dominions, when they shall happen to fall into their hands. they returning backe to their prince, with the malediction of my heart, and the sorrow of a pilgrimes purse, we marching on in our way, that day wee travelled above thirty foure miles, and pitched at a village called adoash, being composed of threescore moorish and arabian houses, standing in a fruitfull and delicate plaine; and garnished with olive, date, and figge-trees, which were both pleasant and profitable: where we found also good hearbes to eate, and abundance of water to drinke, and also to fill our emptied bottles: as wee lay downe to sleepe after a hungry supper, on the hard ground, and our guard watching us; [the savage arabian king.] that same king of the arabians came a little before mid-night, with twenty foure well horsed runagats, and naked courtiers, being armed with bowes and arrowes, and halfe-pikes, pointed at both ends with hard steele; and asked for the caravan, who presently awoke, and went to salute him, laying his hand on his breast, bowed his head very low; which is the usuall courtesie amongst the infidels and christians in these parts: for they never uncover their heads to any man; and after some short parley, they sate all downe on the grasse. the caravan presented his rude like majesty with water, bread, hearbes, figs, garlike, and such things as he had. as they were thus merry, at this poore banquet, the awfull king tooke the oath of our conductor, if there were any mo frankes there then i; and he having sworne the trueth, the king by a malignant informer, incontinently caused me to be brought before him; and staring me in the face, asked my interpreter where were my companions? who replied i had none: then sayd he; tell that dogge, or elishole, he must acknowledge me with five peeces of gold more, otherwise (making a signe to his owne throate) i shall cut off his head, because (sayd he) i will not loose this nights travell for nothing: the which i being informed, and knowing that by no condition, there was resistance against such a scelerate prince, [exaction of tribute.] gave it him forth of mine owne hand, having consulted with my captaine before, and that presently with a halfe smiling countenance; which he remarking, told the rest, it seemed i gave it with a good heart & a chearefull gesture, and to recompence my outward behaviour, he drunke a great draught of water to me: thinking thereby, he had done me more honour then all the chickens of gold i gave him now, and in the morning; would doe him profit or pleasure: pleasure they could doe him none, for they were unlawfully and dishonestly got, and too delivered from the inward sorrow of my sighing soule; and no wonder, having spent two yeares great charges in turky, before this time, but that i should have beene exceeding penurious of money, and thereupon desolate of reliefe and comfort. truely this was one of the greatest tributes i payed for one dayes journey, that i had in all my voyage, in asia. [two arabian kings.] there are two kings in arabia, the one who liveth on euphrates, the desarts of mesopotamia, sometimes in arabia felix, and in some parts of syria: and the other was hee to whom i payd this money wandereth with his tribes, tents, and bestiall, one while in arabia petrea, and deserta, and sometimes in the holy land, as hee findeth good pastorage, and fresh fountaynes. these two kings are mortall enemies: and if by accident they meete, they fight most cruelly, bringing dammage, rapine, and destruction to themselves, and their followers: for it is a difficult thing in them to dominate their inordinate passions, beeing untamed savages, and mis-regarders of civility, who continually contend to corroborate the malignity of their dispositions, with bloody and inhumane interprises. and yet all the rest of that night, after his returne from us, wee still expected some treacherous surprise, which made our souldiers stand stoutly on their guard, and wee pilgrimes to our vigilant and naked defence: for the turkes will not suffer christians to carry weapons in al these dominions, neither any where, where they command. and for all this great tribute, and nights danger of my life, heere was my present resolution: the more i am beset, with dreadfull snares begirded round, in shelfie gulfes of wracke; and shipbroke left, on rockes of deep despaires, where helples care, with tortring thoughts me racke: then stoutly stand i, hoping for the end, that time will change, and god will better send. and now by the way i recall the aforesayd turke, the maister of the mule that carried my provision, and on whom in the journey i had bestowed the most part of my tobacco: when i had no more to give him, and he suspecting the contrary, was councelled by his associats to beate me soundly, and dismount my victuals and water from the mules backe, till i propined him with the rest, which intention being by me understood; i forthwith run to the caravan and complained: whereupon my friend was bravely belaboured with a cudgell, and my better safety procured: thus was his former shew of love quickly expelled, and an inward grudge suddenly conceived, for it was the smoake, and not my selfe he respected. loves whirling fancies, mortals fondly feed as marish rootes dissolve, even as they breed: an humane creature, inhumanely taught, is worser given to ill, than evill fraught: things in themselves, be not so bad as ill, the cause exeemd, corruption hath free will: mans fraile affection, is a cloudy mist, whose vapours fall, and fogge, as passions list: bad counsell's worse, than nature ill applies, weake judgment dulls, when feare in reason flies: thus sad ecclips'd, the darke ecclipsed moone did change, ere mine ecclipsed light was wonne. at last the sun-shine, of my silver day, came crawling on, as snailes advance the way. the next morning, when the hopefull aurore, had fore-showne the burning birth of glassie thetis, and that orient majesty arising to overcirculate the earth, then marcht we along in our way, and before mid-day pitched our haire-cloth tents round about [jacobs well.] jacobs well, neare the decayed city of sychar in samaria: this province of samaria, is now for the most part quite destroyed and overwhelmed with mountaines of sand: we found this auncient well so wondrous deepe, that scarcely all our ropes could sinke our bucket in the water: the taste whereof was wondrous cold & sweet, & for jacobs sake the whole number of us, drunke more of it, then neede required: the fiery face of phoebus declining to the west, we marched through a part of the fields of basan, of which og was last king, a man of such a large proportion, that his bed being made of iron, was nine cubits long, and foure broad: and all that afternoone, wee had exceeding pleasant travailing; and at night we incamped by lydda on the fields: lydda is not above ten miles from the ruinous towne of cæsarea by the sea side, and is now called by the turkes and moores alferron, being a village only of sixteene moorish houses. heere peter healed the man sicke of the palsie. [the sea-port townes of the holy land.] the townes scituated by the sea side in phoenicia, palestine, and judea, are these: sydon, which standeth in the borders of zebulon, and nephtalim, or phoenicia, beeing a goodly city, and well peopled; and is governed by the emeere or prince of the drusians: who beeing the off spring of the christians, which under the conduct of godfrey duke of bulloine, discended into these parts, do still maintayne their liberty against the turkes: the signior whereof being threatned by the great turke, fled to cosmus duke of florence, anno . leaving his two sonnes behind him, the eldest to keepe sydon, and the younger to remaine in a strong fortresse, on the west end of mount libanus: the elder brother foorthwith yeelded to the great turke, the signory of his lands, but the younger would never do it, and so retayneth absolutely the countrey of libanus to this day, making himselfe thereupon, a mountainous monarchicke prince. tyrus, which is miserably brought to ruine: acre or acon, that hath yet some indifferent trade of merchandize, called formerly ptolomeis: caipha, called commonly castello pellegrino, which hath nothing but the remnants of an auncient abbay: cesarea, who reserveth but onely the memory of ruines, for there is no hospitality in it, except it be to savage moores: joppa or japhta, is a sea-port of small barkes, but the decaied towne, contayneth not one dwelling house, save onely a high tower, which defendeth the port from cursares: here jonah tooke ship to flye from god: here peter raised tabitha or dorcas, from death to life: and where he lodging at the house of simon the tanner, was in a vision taught the conversion of the gentiles. and baruti famous for so many christian armies that have besieged it, is now composed of eight hundred fire houses: lying north-east of sydon under mount libanus, formerly called julia foelix, nigh unto which (as fabulous stories report) s. george delivered the kings daughter, by killing the dragon. it is also thought to be within canaan, standing in the frontier of phoenicia, and is the best inhabited place of all the holy land, sydon and jerusalem excepted. saturday morning before the breach of day, setting forward from lydda, through the curling playnes of fat-fac'd palestine, scarcely were wee well advanced in [a dreadfull conflict.] our way, till wee were beset with more then three hundred arabs, who sent us from shrubby heights an unexpected shoure of arrowes, to the great annoyance of all our company: for if it had not beene, that our souldiers shot off their gunnes on a sudden, and stood manly also to it, with their bowes and arrowes for our defence, we had then miserably, in the midst of their ravenous fury perished. but the nature of the arabs is not unlike to the jackals: for when any of them heare the shot of a harquebuse, they presently turne backe with such speed, as if the fiendes of the infernall court were broken loose at their heeles. in that momentary conflict, on our side there were killed nine women, five men, and about thirty persons deadly wounded, which to our worthy armenian captayne, and to the rest of our heathnish conductors bred no small griefe: the mourning noyse among the multitude, beeing also wondrous pittifull. till bright day came, we stayed still in that same place, (expecting the dangerous mutability of our austiere fortune: and at our departure thence, wee buried the slayne people in deep graves, whereby jackals should not open up their graves, to eate their corpes: for such is the nature of these cruel beasts, that they onely love to live on mans flesh: these ravenous beasts (as is thought) are ingendred of a foxe and a wolfe. proceeding in our journey, we entred about two of the clocke in the afternoone, in the hilly countrey of judea, having two of their courses to jerusalem, which is about twenty english miles: [the towne of rhama.] leaving rhama on our right hand, which contayneth some two hundred dwelling houses of one story high, and ten miles distant from joppa, from which it lyeth in the way to jerusalem: here remayneth the dragoman, a christian, who receiveth and conveyeth the pilgrimes to jerusalem, which land at joppa, each pilgrime paying seaven chickens of gold, is furnished with an asse to ride on, all the way tributes, at going, and comming being discharged by their conductor, to whom they resigne this tributary money. rhama is a towne inhabited by christians, arabs, and moores: not blacke moores, as the affricans be, but they are called mori, which are a kinde of egyptians, and not naturally blacke, but sunne-burnt, with the parching heate. the whole territory of canaan, is inhabited with these moores, some turkes, civill arabs, and a few christians and scattered jewes. the arabians are for the most part theeves and robbers, the moores cruell, and uncivill, hating christians to the death: the turkes are the ill best of all the three, yet all sworne enemies to christ. but when they know how to make any gayne by strangers: o what a dissimulate ostentation shall appeare in these detestable villaines, whose outsides onely they seeme to affect: but intirely the insides of their purses: & that is their ayme, and forcible end: wherefore they both toyle with all, and conduct strangers through many perils, as eminent to themselves, as accessary unto our inevitable destinies: time discussing all, and mony over-mastering time; for coyne is the thing they must have, though necessity sometimes may not spare it. about foure of the clocke before night, wee arrived at [beersheba.] berah, called of olde beersheba, being eleaven miles distant from jerusalem. having a little reposed there, giving our camels, mules, and asses some provender, but could get nothing for our selves, from these despightfull moores, (for what wee carried with us, was all spent) except a little water: wee imbraced our mountaynous way, as cheerefully as wee could, for wee were exceeding faint, and travailed that day above forty three miles; whereby wee might arrive at jerusalem before the gates were shut, sustaining great drouth, burning heate, pinching hunger, and not a few other the like inconveniences. and now about halfe way betweene berah and jerusalem, i, and two armenians, advancing our way a flight shot before the company. wee i say, unhappily rancountred with foure moorish fellowes, driving before them sixe asses loaden with rootes, and shrubs of wood to burne: who seeing us, as they thought alone, layd hands upon us, robbed us of our pocket monies: whereat [a grievous danger.] i resisting, one of them pulled foorth a broad knife, and holding me by the beard, thought to have cut my throate, if it had not beene for one of his fellowes, who swiftly stayed him. well, they leave us, and following their beasts, our souldiers instantly appeared unto us; whereupon wee shouting, the moores fled to the rocks, and our foot souldiers following, apprehended two of the chiefest, and brought them to the captaine: one of which had my money, which i presently received backe againe, but mine associates money, was with them that escaped: the captaine and janisaries, meane while carried the two moores along with them, thinking to execute them at jerusalem. but their friends and neighbours following fast on horse-backe, and on foote, relieved them from the caravan, restoring backe againe the two armenians money. whereat all the moores were exceeding glad, and wee nowayes discontented: for if they had not bin redeemed, certainly their friends and followers, who were thicke flocking together, would have cut us all off, before wee could have attain'd to jerusalem. at last wee beheld the prospect of jerusalem, which was not onely a contentment to my weary body, but also beeing ravished with a kinde of unwonted rejoycing, the [a joyfull harmony.] teares gushed from my eyes for too much joy. in this time the armenians began to sing in their owne fashion, psalmes to praise the lord: and i also sung the psalme all the way, till we arrived neere the wals of the citty, where wee ceased from our singing, for feare of the turkes. the sunne being passed to his nightly repose, before our arrivall, wee found the gates locked, and the keyes carried up to the bashaw in the castle; which bred a common sorrow in the company, being all both hungry, and weary: yet the caravan intreated earnestly the turkes within, to give us over the wals, some victuals for our money, shewing heavily the necessity wee had thereof, but they would not, neyther durst attempt such a thing. in this time the guardian of the monastery of cordeleirs, who remayneth there to receive travailers of christendome, who having got newes of our late arrivall, came and demanded of the caravan, if any frankes of europe were in his society, and he sayd, onely one. then the guardian called mee, and asked of what nation i was of, and when i told him, hee seemed to be exceeding glad: yet very sorrowfull for our misfortune. [a deare nights supper.] hee having knowne my distresse, returned, and sent two friers to me with bread, wine, and fishes, which they let over the wall (as they thought in a secret place) but they were espied, and on the morrow the guardiano payed to the subbashaw or sanzacke a great fine, being a hundred piasters, thirty pounds sterling: otherwise both hee and i had beene beheaded: which i confesse, was a deare bought supper to the gray frier; and no lesse almost to me, being both in danger of my life for starving, and then for receiving of food, therefore suspected for a traytor: for the turkes alleadged, he had taken in munition from me, and the other christians, to betray the citty: this they doe oft, for a lesser faulte then that was, onely to get bribes and mony from the grey friers, which daily stand in feare of their lives. anno . upon palme-sunday in the morning, wee entred into jerusalem, and at the gate wee were particularly searched, to the effect wee carried in no furniture of armes, nor powder with us, and the poore armenians (notwithstanding they are slaves to turkes,) behoved to render their weapons to the keepers, such is the feare they have of christians. and my name was written up in the clarkes booke at the port, that my tribute for the gate, and my seeing of the sepulcher, might bee payed at one time together, before my finall departure thence. the gates of the city are of iron outwardly, and above each gate are brazen ordonance planted, for their defence. [a foolish ceremony.] having taken my leave of the caravan, and the company, who went to lodge with their owne patriarke, i was met and received with the guardian, and twelve friers upon the streetes, each of them carrying in their hands a burning waxe candle, and one for mee also: who received mee joyfully, and singing all the way to their monastery te deum laudamus, they mightily rejoyced, that a christian had come from such a far countrey as scotia, to visite jerusalem. where being arrived, they forthwith brought me to a roome, and there the guardian washed my right foote with water, and his viccar my left: and done, they kissed my feete, so did also all the twelve friers that stood by: but when they knew afterward that i was no popish catholicke, it sore repented them of their labour. i found here ten frankes newly come the neerest way from venice hither, sixe of them were germanes, noble gentlemen, and they also good protestants, who were wonderfull glad to heare me tell the guardian flatly in his face, i was no romane catholicke, nor never thought to be: the other foure frankes were frenchmen, two of them parisians old men, the other two of provance, all foure being papists: with nine other commercing frankes, also that dwelt in syria and cyprus, most of them beeing venetians, who were all glad of me, shewing themselves so kinde, so carefull, so loving, and so honourable in all respects, that they were as kind gentle-men, as ever i met withall, especially the germaines: such is the love of strangers, when they meete in forraine and remote places. they had also in high respect the adventures of my halfe yeares travaile, east, and beyond jerusalem: troubling me all the while wee were together, to show them the rare discourses of my long two yeares survey of turkey, but especially of my furthest sights in the east of asia: and were alwayes in admiration that i had no fellow pilgrime, in my long peregrination. the sixth part now come my swift pac'd feete, to syons seate, and faire jerusalem: heere to relate her sacred monuments, and these sweet places, were fil'd with prophets, and apostles faces: christs crub at bethleem, and maries cave, calvar, and golgotha, the holy grave: deepe adraes valley, hebrons patriarch'd tombe, sunke lazars pit, whence hee rose from earths wombe: judeas bounds, and desarts; that smoaking lake which orient folkes do still for sodome take. thence view'd i jordan, and his mooddy streames, whence i a rod, did bring to royall james. the lumpe falne jerico, and th' olive mount, with gethesamaine, where christ to pray was wont: the arabian desarts, then egypt land i toyling saw, with nylus swelling strand: where for discourse, the seaventh part shall thee show what thou mayst learne, and what by sight i know, of matchlesse egypt; and her unmatch'd bounds, that twice a yeare, in growth of graine abounds. jerusalem, is now called by the turkes, kuddish, which is in their language, a holy citie: it was first called moriah, of moria, one of the seaven heads of syon, where abraham would have sacrificed isaac, gen. . . and upon his offering [jerusalems antiquity.] it was called jerusalem, gen. . . it was also named salem, where sem, or melchisedech dwelt: and jerusalem was also called jebus, . sam. . . and it is the place where salomon was commanded to build the temple, . chron: . . which afterward was termed hieron salomonis, whence came by corruption, that word hierosolyma. david, also in his psalmes gave it divers names. and jerusalem in the arabick tongue is also called beyt almo kadas: beyt signifieth the house, almo kadas, viz. of saints. jerusalem standeth in the same place where old jerusalem stood, but not so populous, neither in each respect of breadth, or length so spacious: for on the south side of jerusalem, a great part of mount syon is left without, which was aunciently the heart of the old city; and they have taken on the north side, now both mount calvary, and the holy grave within the walles, which were built by sultan selim: so that thereby the difference of the situation is not so great, though a part thereof be removed; but a man may boldly affirme, that the most part of this city is builded on that place, where the first jerusalem was: as may truely appeare, and is made manifest by these mountaines, mentioned in the scriptures, whereupon jerusalem is both situate, and environed about, who reserve their names to this day, and are still seene, and knowne by the same; [the foure hills of jerusalem.] as mount syon, mount calvary, mount moriah, and mount olivet. the forme of the situation of jerusalem, is now like to a hart, or triangle, the one point whereof looketh east, extending downeward, almost to the valley of jehosaphat, which divideth jerusalem, and mount olivet: the second head or point, bendeth out south-west upon sion, bordering neare to the valley of gehinnon: the third corner lieth on mount moriah, toward the north, and by-west, having its prospect to the buriall place of the kings of israel. the walles are high and strongly builded with saxo quadrato, which adorne jerusalem more then any thing within it, the holy grave excepted. it is of circuite about three miles, and a halfe of our measure. as touching the former glory of this city, i will not meddle withall, nor yet describe, sith the scriptures so amply manifest the same; concerning the lamentable destruction of it; i refer that to the famous historiographer josephus, who largely discourseth of many hundred thousands famished, and put to the sword within this multipotent city, by [the triumph of titus.] vespasian, and titus his sonne; being the messengers of gods just judgements; which by his computation did amount beyond the number of eleven hundred thousands. but it is to be understood, they were not all at one time in jerusalem; but came up by turnes and times, from the circumjacent countries about by thousands, and as they were cut off so their numbers were aye renewed againe as necessity required. [the overthrow of jerusalem.] this city hath beene oft conquered by enemies: first, by nabuchodanezzar, the assirian king: secondly, by the greekes, and alexander the great, and also marvellously afflicted by antiochus: thirdly, it was taken in by pompeius: fourthly, destroyed of vespasian and titus: fifthly, it was reedified by adrian the emperour, and wonne againe by gosdroes, the persian king: sixtly, it was overcome by homer califf the successour of mahomet: seaventhly, by the great souldan of egypt, and by godfrey du bulloine, a christiane prince: eightly, by saladine the caliph of egypt, and damascus: anno . who reserved successively the signiory thereof for a long time: and lastly, it was surprised by sultan selim, or solyman the emperour of the turkes, anno . joyning the holy land together with �gypt to his empire, who fortified the same, being by infidels detayned to this day: and by likelihood shall keepe it to the consummation of the world, unlesse god of his mercy deale otherwise, then the hopes of mans weake judgement can expect. whence truely i may say, that when fortune would change friendship, she disleagueth conditionall amity, with the senselesse litargy of foule ingratitude. this city is now governed by a sanzack or subbassaw, being placed there by the bassaw of damascus, whose deputie he is; the other being chiefe ruler under the grand signior over all the holy land and the halfe of siria. [the garrison of jerusalem.] there is a strong garrison kept alwayes in jerusalem, to withstand the arabish invasions, consisting of eight hundred souldiers, turkes, and moores, who are vigilant in the night and circumspect in the day time, so that none can enter the towne without their knowledge; nor yet goe forth without their triall. this is a memorable note, and worthy of observation, that at that time, when the cities of jerusalem and antiochia were recoverd from the pagans by the meanes of godfrey of boulloin; the pope of rome that then was, was called urbanus; the patriarke of jerusalem heraclius, and the romane emperour fredericke: [a notable observation.] and at the same time, and long thereafter, when jerusalem was reinthralled and seazed upon by saladine; the popes name was urbanus; the patriarke of jerusalem heraclius; and the romane emperour fredericke: after herod the idumean, soone to anti-pater, in whose time christ was borne: archelaus, agrippa herod, who imprisoned peter and james, and was eaten of vermine, in whose time christ suffered; and agrippa minor (before whom paul pleaded) the last king of the jews had raigned, (being strange kings) in the last kings time jerusalem was overthrowne, and the kingdome made a province of the romane empire, anno . after which desolation, the jewes were over all the world dispersed; but afterward in a zealous consideration, were banished from the most part of the christian kingdomes: out of france they were rejected by philip the faire, anno . out of spaine by ferdinand the catholicke, . out of portugale by emanuell, . out of england by edward the fifth, . out of naples and sicilia by charles the fifth, . yet they are found in great numbers in divers parts of germany, poland, and in some cities of italy, as venice and her territories, florence and the jurisdiction thereof, the principalities of parma, mantua, modena, urbino, and their extending limits; and finally rome, (besides her ecclesiasticall papacy) wherein there are no lesse than twenty thousand of them: they are also innumerable over all the turkish dominions, who so misregard and hate them, for the crucifying of christ, that they use to say in detestation of any thing, i would i might dye a jew; neither will they permit a jew to turne turke, unlesse he first be baptized: and yet live, where they wil, the most part of them are the welthiest people in the world, having subtile, and sublime spirits. now for the severall kings and rulers of judah and israel, beginning at moyses, the judges of the jewes were . of whom samuel was the last, at which time, the people desired to have a king like unto other nations. [the jewish kings.] the kings of the jewes were three; saul, david, and salomon; and the kings of judah were twenty, zedechias being last, in whose time nabuchodanezzar destroyed jerusalem. of the kings of israel there were seaventeene, of whom oseas was the last, in whose time the israelites were carried captives into assyria, by king salmanassor. [dukes of jewry.] the dukes or governours of jewry were fifteene, of which joannes hircanius, was the last governour of judea, which discended from the stocke of david. during the government of which captaines, after the babylonian captivity, the jewish kingdome was plagued on both sides, by the kings of egypt and syria: who slaughtered their people, ransacked their cities, made havocke of their goods, and compelled them to eate forbidden flesh, and sacrifice to idols. to reforme which enormities matathias and his five sonnes valiantly resisted, and overcame the impetuous fury of antiochus epiphanes and his syrians: whereupon the jewes chose judas surnamed machabeus for their captaine, one of the worlds nine worthies; who though not of the line of david, was yet of the tribe of judah. the machabean princes of jury were onely foure: joannes hircanus the last, who was slaine by the parthianes. [the machabean princes.] of the machabean kings of judah were other foure, of whom hircanus sonne to alexander the tyrant was the last, who being disturbed in his raigne by aristobulus his yonger brother, with his sonnes alexander and antiochus, he was firmely established in his throne by pompey; & the other carried captives to rome. but afterward alexander and antiochus escaping, the one by pollicy, the other by favour of julius cæsar, villanously abused hircanus: the former was slaine by scipio, and the latter for his villany was slaine by marcus antonius, and the kingdome given to a stranger, herod borne in ascolon of idumea, as i formerly recited, of which strange kings there were foure. [christian kings of jerusalem.] the christian kings of palestine, beginning at godfrey of bulloine were nine. guy of lysingham being the last king of jerusalem, and was surprised by saladine of egypt, . and lastly, or at this present time, the emperours of the line and race of ottoman, are lords and kings over jerusalem, and the crost, or rather now curst land of canaan: in whose hands it is faster kept, then the seventeene belgian provinces, remaine totally subject to the spanish power. but to the intent the reader may the better conceive, and plainely understand the monuments i saw within jerusalem, and the circumjacent places of judea; i thought best to prefixe the description thereof, by the severall dayes as i saw them, not much condemning, neither absolutely qualifying them, but shall (as it were) neutrally nominate, and recapitulate these places, as i was informed by the padre guardiano, gaudentius, saybantus, a veronesen borne; whence he, and every one of them every third yeare are changed and recalled backe to christendome, and other new friers sent in their places: and especially the information of john baptista, the trenchman, who dwelt and had stayed twenty five yeares in jerusalem, and from whom the friers themselves have their informations: for a stranger that understandeth not promptly the italian tongue, which they usually speake, when they demonstrate these places unto us, hee shall [the ignorance of travellers.] conceive ignorantly, dispose his judgement blind-foldedly, and knowes not how to distinguish the circumstances, and qualities of the things delivered. as i have knowne some of these francks, in my company, simply mistaken, even when the exposition of every object was largely manifested unto them; and precisely declared such a thing to have beene there, although perhaps the matter it selfe, be evanished and transported. about two of the clock on palme-sunday after dinner, for all of us eate, drunke, and lay in the monastery, each of us paying a piaster a day for our dyet, sixe shillings starling, besides all other costs and charges: the guardian i say, departed from jerusalem to bethphage: accompanied with twelve friers, and many other orientall christians, which were come thither to that festivall time, but i by no meanes would go, neither would the six germans, but reposing our selves on the top or platforme of the cloyster, we stayed till their returne: and yet from this place, we saw their back-comming from bethphage as they crossed the lower and south side of olivet; devalling downeward, toward the valley of jehosophat to ascend mount sion, for the greater performance of their foolery. [a superstitious ceremony.] the rediculous ceremony which that day they use, is thus: in an apish imitation of christ, at the foresayd bethphage, there was an asse brought to the guardiano, whereupon hee mounted (being as it were, the greater asse, riding upon the lesser) and came riding to jerusalem, the people cutting downe boughs of trees, and also dispoyling themselves almost to the skin, bestrewed the way as hee rode along, crying, hosanna, hosanna, the sonne of david, blessed is hee that commeth in the name of the lord: untill they came to the south gate of syon, where the guardian thought to have entred, riding through jerusalem to his monastery, with this shouting convoy of sixe thousand orientall christians, because their patriarkes have not that liberty to do so, as this italian guardian: notwithstanding, the clamour of the people incensed so the turkish garrison lying at this gate, that they not onely abused the poore christians in their ignorant devotion, but they pulled the guardian also from the asses backe, beating him most cruelly, and all the rest of the friers and francke pilgrimes that were with him: where at last entring the convent, most of them came in groaning, and loaden with blacke and bloody blowes; whereat i, and the other protestants, did laugh in our sleeves to behold their foolish procession, so substantially rewarded. at night after supper, the guardiano knowing that i was a protestant, and also these other germanes, made an oration, saying: you pilgrims, who refuse to be participant with us in the sacraments, nor wil not adhere to our masses, processions and ceremonies which we follow of the roman church: i would therfore intreat you (your liberty being here as much as mine, whereby you may do as you please) onely to abstaine from scandalling and mocking our rites and ordinary customes, which at this great feast we must performe: to which we condescended, and promised to give no occasion of offence, seeing our outward carriage in going along with them to see their customes, tended no way to hurt the inward disposition of our soules. in the conclusion of his long exhortation, hee disclosed this admonition, saying: all of you travailers must in [a flattering beggary.] general be indued with these three worthy gifts, faith, patience, & mony: faith, to beleeve these things you shall see here at, and about jerusalem: patience, to indure the apparent injuries of infidels; and money, to discharge all tributes, and costs, which here (meaning in his owne monastery) and about this city must be defrayed. his sermon he concluded like a grey frier, as indeede hee was: for i am fully perswaded hee little cared for our faith, and patience, providing, that our purses could answere his expectation, as truly we found the condigne trial thereof afterward: making our patience to startle, our faith to over-top his lyes, and our monies to bee a slave to his greed; and wee left the last tributary spoyles of two extortionable flatterers, avarice, and ignorance; with the which our reverend guardian was fully invested. monday earely, we pilgrimes went foorth to view the monuments within the citty, being accompanied with the padre viccario, and a french predicatore: the places of any note wee saw were these: first they shewed us the place where christ appeared to mary magdalen, who sayd: touch me not, for i am not yet ascended to my father, john . . and this place by them is supposed to be the center or middle part of the world. next, where saint james the first bishop of the primitive church was beheaded: then the house of saint thomas, but that is doubtful (say they) because it is not yet confirmed by the papall authority: from thence they brought us to the place where annas one of the high priests dwelt, and also the tree to the which our saviour was bound, whiles annas was making himselfe ready to leade him to caiphas; but that i wil not beleeve, for that tree groweth yet, being an olive tree. they shewed us also the house where saint peter was imprisoned, when his fetters were shaken off his legges, and the prison doores cast open, and hee relieved: and where zebedeus the father of james and john dwelt, which are nothing but a lumpe of ruines. [caiphas lodging.] thence wee came to the decayed lodging of caiphas, without the citty, uppon the mount syon, whereupon there is a chappell builded, and at the entry of that little domo, we saw the stone, on which the cocke crew, when peter denied christ. within the same place is the stone that was rolled to the sepulcher doore of our saviour, being now made an altar to the abasines. these abasines, are naturally borne blacke, and of them silly religious men, who stay at jerusalem, in two places, to wit, heere at caiphas house, on mount syon, and the other convent on mount moriah, where abraham would have sacrificed isaac: they weare on their heads flat round caps of a blackish colour, and on their bodies long gownes of white dimmety, or linnen cloath, representing ephods: the condition of themselves being more devoute, than understanding the true grounds or their devotion, blind zeale and ignorance overswaying their best light of knowledge. they being a kinde of people, which came from prester jehans dominions. and within that chappel they shewed us a narrow pit, wherein (say they) christ was incarcerat, the night before he was brought to the judgement hall. upon the same side of syon, we saw the place, where christ did institute the sacraments: and not far hence, a decayed house, where (say they) the holy-ghost discended upon the apostles, and also the sepultures of david, and his sonne salomon: over the which, there is a moskie, wherein no christian may enter, to see these monuments. for the turkes doe great reverence, to most of all the ancient prophets of the old testament. from thence we returned, and entred in via dolorosa, the dolorous way, by which our lord and savior passed, when he went to be crucified, carrying the crosse upon his backe: and at the end of the same streete (say they) the souldiers met simon of cyrene, and compelled him to helpe christ, to beare his crosse when hee fainted. [pilats judgement hall.] pilats judgment hall, is altogether ruinated, having but onely betweene the two sides of the lane, an olde arch of stone, under the which i passed, standing ful in the high way: here they shewed us the place, where christ first tooke up his crosse, and on the top of that arche, wee saw that place called gabbatha, where jesus stood, when pilat sayd to the jewes, ecce homo. a little below this, they brought us to the church of saint anna, where (say they) the virgin mary was borne. and going downe another narrow lane, they poynted in to a house, and sayd, heere dives the rich glutton dwelt, who would not give to lazarus the crummes of bread that fel from his table: this i suspend, amongst many other things, for all hold it to bee a parable, and not a history: and although it were a history, who can demonstrate the particular place, jerusalem having beene so often transformed by alterations. this i must needes say, with such leying wonders, these flattering friers, bring strangers into a wonderful admiration, and although i rehearse all i saw there, yet i will not beleeve all, onely publishing them as things indifferent, some whereof are frivolous, and others somewhat more credible: but as i sayd before, i will make no (or very small) distinction in the relation. from thence we came without the easterne gate, (standing on a low banke, called the daughter of syon, that over-toppeth the valley of jehosophat,) unto an immoveable stone, upon the which they sayd st. stephen was stoned to death, the first martyr of the christian faith; and the faithfull fore-runner of many noble followers. as we returned to our owne convent, they brought us to mount moriah, and shewed us the place where [abrahams faith.] abraham offered up isaac, which is in the custody of nigroes or �thiopians: to whom each of us payed ten madins of brasse, the common coine of jerusalem, for our in going to that place. and the other monastery that these abasines detaine, is on mount sinay in the desarts, where the body of s. katherine lyeth buried, which is richly maintained, and strongly kept by the �thiopian emperor: there are . religious abasines in it, and . souldiers to guard them from the incursions of arabs, who continually molest them, because [mount sinay.] mount sinay standeth in midst of that desolate arabian wildernesse, and far from any civill or inhabited place; being distant from jerusalem about . english miles. next they shewed us the place where jesus sayd, daughters of jerusalem, mourne not for me, &c. and neere unto this, where the virgin mary fell into an agony, when jesus passed by carrying his crosse: also, not farre hence, we beheld the place, where (as they say) jesus said to his mother, woman, behold thy sonne, and to s. john behold thy mother. ascending more upward, they shewed us the house of veronica sancta, and said, that our saviour going by her doore, all in a sweat to mount calvary, she brought him a napkin to wipe his face; which he received, and gave it to her againe: in which (say they) the print of his face remaineth to this day, and is to be seene at rome. it is also sayd to be in a towne in spaine, and another of them at palermo in sicilia: wherefore i beleeve the one, as well as the rest. so out of one, if papists can make three by it, they would denote heavens deitie: but o! not so, these three revolv'd in one, points forth the pope, from him his tripled crowne he weav'd these napkins, leying reard his seat, for which this number, makes his number great. [the temple of solomon thrice builded & destroyed.] as concerning the temple of the most high, built by salomon (the description of which edifice yee may read in the . of kings) it was destroyed by nabuchodanezzar, at the taking of jerusalem, anno mundi, . secondly, it was rebuilded againe by the commandement of cyrus king of persia, after the jewes returned from the captivity of babylon; but not answerable to the state and magnificence of the former: for besides the poverty & smalnesse of it, there wanted five things which were in the other: first, the arke of the covenant: secondly, the pot of manna: thirdly, the rod of aaron: fourthly, the two tables of the law, written by the finger of god: and fifthly, the fire of the sacrifice, which came downe from heaven, which were the symboles and badges of gods favour and mercy showne to them and their fore-fathers in his covenant of love. this temple afterward growing in decay, herod the great, (that killed the young infants for christs sake, who suffered for him, before he suffered for them) built another much inferiour to the first, and superiour to the second. and although some authors would have him but to repaire the second temple, yet it is most certaine, he did even from the foundation raise its greatest beauty and glory. for this herod the ascolonite, was an edomit stranger, or idumean, who having gotten the kingdome contrary to the law of moses; and created king of jewry by octavius augustus; and knowing these people to be offended therewithall, to procure their favour did [herod the idumeans temple.] build to them a third temple: this was it, in which our saviour, and his apostles did daily preach; and was set on fire by titus the tenth day of august, on which day likewise the first temple, was burnt by nabuchodanezzar. and lastly there is another great temple builded in the [selim solimans temple.] same place, by sultan, selim soliman, reserved by turkes, and highly regarded, for that respect they carry to salomon; neare the which, or within whose courts no christian may enter under the paine of loosing his head. this present temple hath two incircling courts invironed with high wals, having two enteries: in the inner court standeth the temple, that is composed of five circling and large rotundoes, rising high and incorporate from the ground with round tops: the outward fabrick whereof we cannot see, save on mount olivet, which is over against the citie, and twice as high as mount sion. these are all the monuments which in one day, i saw within jerusalem; but as for mount calvary, and the holy grave, i saw them afterward, which in their owne place shall be orderly touched. as we were spending that day in these sights, the guardian had prepared one hundred souldiers, sixty horse-men, and forty foot-men, to take with him the day following, for his conduction to jordan, and the mountaine in the wildernesse where christ fasted; which is his usuall custome once every yeare betweene palme-sunday and easter, returning againe before good-friday. these places cannot be viewed, save onely at that time; neither may a pilgrime goe along with the souldiers, unlesse he give the value of seven crownes or piasters (as a propyne) unto the lieutenant, being forty two shillings starling: and if the traveller will not goe to that charge, he may stay there till their returne, which i would not wish him to doe, if possibly he may spare the money, for the sight of sodome, and jordans sake. that same night after supper, the guardian demanded of us travellers, if we would goe with him to see these memorable, & singular things, upon the former condition: to whom we answered, in a generall consent, we would, and so payed our moneyes. [a voyage to jordan.] earely upon tuesday morning all the friers and pilgrimes being mounted on mules save onely pedestriall i, and two mules loaden with our provision of victuals; we departed from the city, about our nine of the clocke in the forenoone, keeping our faces south-east, and leaving bethphage and bithania on our left hand, wee had pleasant travelling for seaven miles; but in the afternoone wee entred in a barren and desart countrey till sun-setting: where at last wee arrived at a standing well, and there refreshing our selves and the beasts, wee reposed till two houres within night. after that the captaine had cried catethlanga, that is, march away: we set forward, being well guarded round about with our keepers, because we entred into a dangerous way, and a most desolate and fabulous soile. in all this deformed countrey, wee saw neyther house, nor village, for it is altogether desartuous, and inhabited onely by wilde beasts, and naked arabians. before wee came neere to sodom and gomorrah, by seaven miles: (for so wee behooved to passe by the east end of it, before wee could arrive at that place of jordan which wee intended) we i say incountred with such deep sandy ground, that the mulets were not able to carry our company through: whereupon they all dismounted, wrestling, and wading above the middle part of their bodies, and sometimes falling in over their heads, they were in great danger of perishing, although the robustnesse of my body carried mee through on my feete, relieving also divers times some of these friers and pilgrimes, that were almost choaked and over-whelmed with sand, but not for lacke of wine. even in the middest of this turmoyling paine, (the night being darke) the unwelcomed arabs, environed, [a fearefull danger.] and invaded us with a storme of arrowes, which they sent from the tops of little hard hils, whereupon they stood, for knowing the advantage of the ground: they tooke opportunity to give the more feareful assaults: yet they prevailed nothing (although they wounded some of our souldiers) such was the resolute courage of our valourous defendants. true it is, that in all my travailes i was never so sore fatigated, nor more fearefully indangered, as i was that night. a little after midnight, these savages leaving us, and wee leaving our troublesome way, we accoasted the lake of sodome, and marched along the marine shoare above nine miles before we came to jordan. this lake is called lacus asphaltites, it yeeldeth a kinde of slime, named bitumen asphaltum; the which bituminous savour no living thing can indure. and now mare mortuum, a sea because it is salt, and mortuum or dead, for that no living thing breedes therein: and more properly for this cause called the dead sea, because of it selfe it is unmoveable, such is the leprosie and stability of the water. it is also called so, because if a bird flye over it, shee presently falleth downe therein dead: and as salomon reporteth of it, wisdom. . . it smoaketh continually: from whence proceedeth filthy vapours, which deforme the fields, lying about for certaine miles, as it were blasted, scorched, and made utterly barren: this smoake i take onely to be but the exhalation of jordan: for this river falling into it, and there ending his course, the two contrary natures cannot agree; the one being a filthy puddle, and the other a pure water, as i shall more approbably record. [the length of sodoms lake.] this lake is foure score miles in length, and according to its intervalling circuite, sometimes two, three, foure, or five miles in breadth: yet the body thereof, bending directly south-west; keepeth a glassie course, till it salute the austiere conspicuosity of the sabulous and stony desarts: beeing compassed with the rockes of arabia petrea on the south: on the north, with the sandy hils of the wildernesse of judea: on the west, with the steepy mountaines of arabia deserta: and on the east, with the plaine of jericho. how commeth it to passe therefore, that the fresh running flood of jordan, falling evermore into this bounded sea, that the lake it selfe, never diminisheth, nor increaseth, but alwayes standeth at one fulnesse: neyther hath it any issuing forth, nor reboundeth backewards on the plaine of jericho, which is one of the greatest wonders in the world. wherefore, as i have sayd, it must needes eyther exhale to the clouds, or otherwise runne downe to hell: for if it ranne under the rockes, and so burst in the desarts, it would soone bee knowne; but in all the bounds of arabia deserta, which betwixt this lake and the red sea, extend to . miles; there is no such matter, as brooke, or strand, much lesse a river, neyther hath it any intercourse with the ocean, unlesse it runne through some secret passage of the earth under the wildernesse, unto the red sea. and that is doubtfull, although it may appeare probable; in regard of nilus, that runneth a hundred miles under the ground in the exterior �thiopia: and divers other rivers also after the same manner, obscuring themselves under rockes, mountaynes, and planures, for many miles: which particulars, by my owne experience, i could denote. [the doubtfulnes of jordans ending.] but as for this river, the question may arise, whether ran it during the time of these five citties of the plaine, now overwhelmed with water; or where was the issue thereof. to this i answere, was not the hand of the almighty, that rained downe from the heavens fire and brimstone to consume them, able also, to drowne their situations and intervalling plaines with water: yes and doubtlesse yes, and the course of the river keeping still its former condition: and for moderne examples, how many citties, mansions, and stations, have beene sommerssed with water: nay innumerable, and so remayning to this day, place, beauty, and being, all defaced: as now in scotland neere to falkirk, rests the last and latest memory of such woefull accidents, and superabounding disgorgings. it breedeth nor reserveth no kinde of fishes; and if by the swelling of jordan, any fishes be carried to it, they immediatly dye. although josephus witnesseth, that in his time, there was an apple grew uppon the bankes thereof, like to the colour or gold, and within was rotten, and would consume to powder; yet i affirme now the contrary: for there is not such a thing (whatsoever hath beene in his dayes) as eyther trees, or bushes, grow neere to sodome by three miles: such is the consumation of that pestiferous gulfe. [wrong informations made false.] divers authors have reported, that nothing will sinke into it, of any reasonable weight, as dead men, or carkasses of beasts: but by experience i approve the contrary: for it beareth nothing at all; yea, not the weight of a feather, nor the pile of withered grasse, but it will sinke therein, with the which my hands made sundry trials; and dare approove it to be of trueth, in spight of the leying world, and all doting varieties of auncient relations. the water it selfe, is of a blackish colour, and at sometimes in the yeare, there are terrible shapes, and showes of terrour in it, as i was informed at jericho, by the arabian inhabitants there, which is the neerest towne that bordereth thereupon. this contagious and pestilentious lake of sodome, resembleth much (as may be supposed) that infernall gulfe of hell: but in my opinion, i hold it to be the purgatory of papists: for they say limbus patrum, is neere, or in the second roome to hell, which i thinke must needs be sodome: for although it be not hell it selfe, yet i am perswaded, it is a second hell, having (as some report) no bottome. wherefore i conclude thus, that since papists will have a purgatory, i absolutely affirme, it must be such a purgatory, as the purging of sodome and gomorra, which was with fire and brimstone, to their destruction. about the breach of day on wednesday morning, we past by the ruines of an old house; where (as they say) s. john the baptist remained, when he baptized those that came from jerusalem, and other regions about, which is but the flight of an arrow from jordan. approaching to the banke-side, we dismounted, and [the river jordan.] uncloathed our selves, going in naked to the river, we washed us to refresh our bodies; our souldiers lying a little off from us, as pledges of our lives, and their owne safegards, stayed as bulwarks for our protection, & a connivall obligation for two repugnant defences: time presenting the awfull opportunity of both occasions. in this place, as the guardian said, was christ baptized of s. john, when the holy ghost came downe in a bodily shape, like a dove upon him, and there was a voyce from heaven, saying: thou art my beloved sonne, in thee i am well pleased. i saw also an apparant like testimony, of a quadrangled stone, lying on the banke side; whereupon are ingraven letters, of hebrew, greeke, latine, testifying the same thing: and may be also conjectured, in regard of the auncient habitacle, of that precursor, which is not far from thence. this river jordan beginneth in mount libanus, of two fountaines, jore, and dan, which runne separated, till they come to the lake maronah; & hence it maketh one body, keeping his course through the lake genasereth, endeth in sodome. the river tibris at rome, & jordan are not much different in quantity and colour; and not unlike other in their courses: for jordan falleth in the old gomorah, and tibris runneth through the new sodome; a history of such evidence, as travell taught me by experience: for it is the priests confluence, which breeds in the italians insolence: if i erre, i will beg indulgence, of the popes aureat magnificence. the rivers themselves are both of a muddy colour, and their quantity not far different from other, which jordan for greatnesse retaineth, and the length of their courses are much semblable to other. the water of jordan hath beene transported to venice in barrels, for that purity it hath; which will reserve unspoiled, both moneths and yeares, and the longer it is kept, it is the more fresher; and to drinke it, is an excellent remedy for the fever quartan or quotidian, being neare in vertue to the wine of libanon. considering the auncient reputation of this famous river, and the rare sight of such an unfrequented place, [a turpentine rod brought from jordan and given to king james.] i climbed up to the top of a turpentine tree, which grew within the limited flood, a little above where i left my company even naked, as i came from swimming, and cut downe a faire hunting rod of the heavy and sad turpentine tree, being three yards long, wondrous straight, full of small knots, and of a yellowish colour; which afterward, with great paines, i brought to england, and did present it (as the rarest gemme of a pilgrimes treasure) to his majesty. but i remember in the choosing thereof an unexpected accident fell out: for i being sequestrat from the sight of the company, upon this solitary tree, with broad obscuring leaves, the friers and souldiers removed; keeping their course towards jericho: but within two furlongs from jordan, they were beset with the former nocturnall enemies, who assailed them with a hard conflict: for i hearing the harquebuse go off, was straight in admiration, and looking downe to the place where i left my associates, they were gone; so bending my eyes a little further in the plaine, i saw them at a martiall combate: which sight gave me suddenly, the threatning of despaire: not knowing whether to stay intrenched, within the circundating leaves, to approve the events of my auspicuous fortunes: or in prosecuting a reliefe, to be participant of their doubtfull deliverance. in the end pondering, i could hardly, or never escape their hands, either there, or by the way going up to jerusalem, leapt downe from the tree, leaving my turkish cloathes lying upon the ground, tooke onely in my hand the rod & shasse which i wore on my head; and ranne starke naked above a quarter of a mile amongst thistles, and sharpe pointed grasse, which pittifully be pricked the soles of my feete, but the feare of death for the present, expel'd the griefe of that unlooked for paine. approaching on the safe side of my company, one of our souldiers broke forth on horsebacke, being determined to kill mee for my staying behinde: yea, and three times stroke at me with his halfe-pike; but his horse being at his speed, i prevented his cruelty, first by falling downe, next by running in amongst the thickest of the pilgrimes, recovering the guardians face, which when the guardian espied, and saw my naked body, hee presently pulled off his gray gowne, and threw it to me, whereby i might hide the secrets of nature: by which meanes, (in the space of an [the pilgrimes three severall habits in halfe a houre.] houre) i was cloathed three manner of wayes: first, like a turke: secondly, like a wild arabian: and thirdly, like a grey frier, which was a barbarous, a savage, and a religious habit. the captaine at last entering in parley with the arabs, by some contributing promises did mitigate their fury, for their compounded acknowledgement was to be sent them from jerusalem: whereupon, wee marching toward jericho, reposed our selves under a cooling shade, and dined there on the wine and provision carryed with us. after dinner wee arose, and went to the house of zacheus: (this was hee who sate uppon a tree to see our saviour as he passed by,) the wals whereof stand to this day, the tecture being onely demolished. this new jericho is now a poore village onely of nine dwelling houses, inhabited by a kinde of arabs (which are in subjection under the governour of jerusalem,) but i saw many ruinous lumpes of the wals, and demolishings of the old towne, which is a little from this distant, about a short quarter of a mile. [two sorts of rare fruit.] here i saw two most dainty kinde of fruites, the one was a little lesser then an apple, but more round: whose colour was like gold without, and within it was white as snow, and sweete like suger. i would gladly have eaten of them; but the friers forbade me, saying; they were the onely pest of death unto a stranger. the other apple was like to a greene lemmon, long, and full of knots, of a reddish colour, like to a mellone; being both delicate and wholesome, of which wee did eate to satisfie the naturall appetite, and so did all our souldiers eate of them excessively: their trees growing high and greene by a brooke side of delicate water that runneth from the fountaine of elizeus. from jericho we set forward, in the way of the wildernesse; our determination being such, as to view the mountaine whereon christ fasted forty dayes: where arrived, being late, we durst not go up til morning. [elizeus fountaine.] wherefore we pitched that night by the fountayne of elizeus; the water of which, was of old, naturally bitter, but by the prayers of that divine prophet, was restored to a sweet tast: it is good in digestion, and harmelesse for health: and it is the lightest water the earth yeelds: having on the morrow filled a boares skin of it, to carry with me to the mountaine; i found it so light, that i had no weight nor paine in the bearing of it on my shoulders: notwithstanding, the way of it selfe was fastidious. this mountain is called quarantanam, or quaranto, being of height, by the computation of my painefull experience, above sixe miles, and groweth from the bottome still smaller and smaller, till that the top is covered with a little chappell, not unlike to the proportion of a pyramede. there is no way to ascend upon this hill, save one, which hath beene hewen out of the rocke, by the industry of men, experimented in masonry; (which was done at the cost of queene helen) going up by the degrees of forty five turnes. in all our company there were onely one frier, foure germanes, and i, that durst attempt to climbe the mountaine. thursday earely at the breach of day, we sixe made us for the mountaine, leaving our souldiers to guard the passage below, least some stragling arabs should have stolne after us for our destruction. where after diverse turnings, traversings, and narrow foot passages having come with great difficulty to the top, we entred first into a umbragious cave, joyning to, and under the chappell, [where christ fasted forty dayes.] where the frier told us, that in this place christ did fast forty dayes: and here it was, where he rebuked sathan. the chappel which covereth the top of this high and steepy rocke is covered, and also beautified, with an old altar: betweene the outward sides whereof, and the craggy face of this mountaine, two men may only go side to side: here we dined and refresht our selves with water that i carried on my backe hither: from which place we saw the most part of all the holy land, except the north parts of judea, palestine, and phenicia, and a great way in the two arabiaes, petrea, and deserta, and all the length of jordan, even from sodome to maronah. at last in our returne and fearefull discending, there would none of us goe downe formost: for although the frier led us freely upwards, yet first downeward for his life hee durst not goe: and that because at the narrow end of every turning, there was aye betweene the upper and the lower passage, about my height, and some where twice my height, of the flat face of the rocke, whereon there was nothing but dimples and holes to receive our feete, which in discending was perillous. [dreadfull danger in descending the quarantatam.] now the greatest danger, at every turne, was in the downe going of the formost, who was to receive, them all, one by one, and foote their feet in the shallow dimples: of which if any of them had missed, his sliding downe had miscarried them both over the rocke. now for the noble germanes sake, two of whom were great barens, signior strowse, and signior crushen, and borne vassals to the marquesse of hanspauch, i resolved to imbrace the danger: where downe i went, receiving every one of them, at every turne, first leading their feete by my hands, and then by inveloping them with mine armes: well, having past halfe way downewards, wee came to the most scurrile and timorous discent of the whole passage, where with much difficulty, i set safe the foure germanes in our narrow rode hewen out of the craggy hill; and then was to receive the frier: whence hee comming downe from above, with his belly and face to the rocke, holding his hands grumbling above, the fellow fell on trembling; and as i was placing his feete in the holes, distempred feare brought him downe upon me with a rushling hurle: whereuppon straight i mainly closed with my left arme his body fast to the rocke, keeping strongly my right shoulder to the same place: for i could not have saved my selfe, and letting him fall, but hee would have caught mee headlong with him, over the rocke: and yet the germanes cryed still to me, lascia ti quel furfanto cascar alla fondo con il diavolo, e salva caro fratello la vita vostra, viz. let that villaine fall to the ground with the divell, and save, o deare brother, your owne life: but i neyther would nor durst: at last his feare, by my incouragement having left him, i suffered him to slide softly downe betweene my arme and the rocke, to the solid path: where by and by, hee fell downe uppon his knees, and gave mee a thousand blessings, vowing for this, he would doe me a great good deede before i left jerusalem. at last towards the afternoone, wee safely arrived at the foote of the mountayne, and having saluted the guardian, and all the rest, who then were ready to take journey, the frier told his reverence how i had saved his life: whereupon the guardian, and the other friers, did imbrace me kindly in their armes, giving me many earnest and loving thankes. and now the souldiers and wee being advanced in our way, as wee returned to jerusalem, wee marched by an [s. jeromes abbey.] olde ruinous abbey, where (say they) saint jerome dwelt, and was fed there by wilde lyons: having travailed sore and hard that afternoone, wee arrived at jerusalem an houre within night, for the gate was kept open a purpose for us and our guard: and entring our monastery, wee supped, and rested our selves till midnight; having marched that halfe day, more as . miles. a little before midnight, the guardian and the friers, were making themselves ready to goe with us to the church of the holy sepulcher, called sancto salvatore; where wee were to stay good-friday and satturday, and easter-sunday till mid-night: they tooke their cooke with them also to dresse our dyet, carrying wine, bread, fishes, and fruites hither in abundance. meane while, a jew, the trench-man of the turkies sanzacke, came to the monastery, and received from every one of us pilgrimes, first two chickens of gold, for our severall heads, and entrey at jerusalem: and then nine chickens a peece for our in going to the holy grave; and a chicken of golde a man, to himselfe the jew, as beeing due to his place. [our tributs for the holy grave.] thus was there twelve chickens from each of us dispatched for the turke: and last one, and all of us, behoved to give to the guardian two chickens also for the waxe candles and fooleries hee was to spend, in their idle and superstitious ceremonies, these three aforesayd nights, which amounted in all to every one of us, to foureteene chickens of gold, sixe pounds sixe shillings starling. so that in the whole from the sixe germanes, foure french men, and nine commercing franks in cyprus and syria, venetians, and ragusans, and from my selfe, the summe arose for this nights labour to a hundred and twenty sixe pounds starling. this done, and at full mid-night wee came to the church where wee found twelve venerable like turkes, ready to receive us, sitting in the porch without the doore; who foorthwith opened at randone the two great brazen halfes of the doore, and received us very respectively: we being within the doore made fast, and the turkes returned to the castle, the first place of any note we saw, was the place of unction, which is a foure squared stone; inclosed about with an yron reuele, on which (say they) the dead body of our saviour lay, and was imbalmed; after hee was taken from the crosse, whiles joseph of arimathea, was preparing that new sepulcher for him wherein never man lay: from thence we came to the holy grave. leaving mount calvary on our right hand toward the east end of the church; for they are both contained within this glorious edifice. [the holy grave.] the holy grave is covered with a little chappell, standing within a round quiere, in the west ende of the church: it hath two low and narrow entries: as we entred the first doore, three after three, and our shoes cast off, for these two roomes are wondrous little, the guardiano fell downe, ingenochiato, and kissed a stone, whereupon (he sayd) the angell stood, when mary magdalen came to the sepulchre, to know if christ was risen, on the third day as he promised: and within the entry of the second doore, we saw the place where christ our messias was buried, and prostrating our selves in great humility, every man according to his religion, offered up his prayers to god. the sepulchre it selfe, is eight foote and a halfe in length, and advanced about three foote in height from the ground, and three foote five inches broad, being covered with a faire marble stone of white colour. in this chappell, and about it, i meane without the utter sides of it, and the inward incirclings of the compassing quiere, there are alwayes burning above fifty lampes of oyle, maintained by christian princes, who stand most of them within incircling bandes of pure gold, which is exceeding sumptuous, having the names of those, who sent or gave them, ingraven upon the upper edges of the round circles: each of them having three degrees, and each degree depending upon another, with supporters of pure gold, rich and glorious. the fairest whereof was sent thither by king john of england, whereon i saw his name, his title, and crowne curiously indented, i demanded of the guardiano if any part of the tombe was here yet extant, who replied, there was; but because (said he) christians resorting thither, being devoutly moved with affection to the place, carried away a good part thereof, which caused s. helen inclose it under this stone; whereby some relicts of it should alwaies remaine. i make no doubt but that same place is golgotha, where the holy grave was, as may appeare by the distance, betweene mount calvary and this sacred monument; which extendeth to forty of my pases: [the glorious chappell of the holy grave.] this chappell is outwardly decored, with . couple of marble pillars, and of . foote high; and above the upper coverture of the same chappell, there is a little sixe-angled turret made of cedar wood, covered with lead, and beautified with sixe small columnes of the same tree. the chappell it selfe standeth in a demicircle or halfe moone, having the little doore or entry looking east: to the great body of the church, and to mount calvary, being opposite to many other venerable monuments of memorable majesties. the forme of the quiere wherein it standeth, is like unto that auncient rotundo in rome, but a great deale higher and larger, having two gorgeous galleries; one above another, and adorned with magnificent columnes being open at the top, with a large round; which yeeldeth to the heavens the prospect of that most sacred place. in which second gallery we strangers reposed all these three nights we remained there: whence we had the full prospect of all the spacious church, and all the orientall people were there at this great feast of easter day, being about . persons: from this curious carved chappell we returned through the church to mount calvary; to which we ascended by twenty one steps, eighteene of them were of marble, and three of cedar-wood: where, [the beauty of mount calvary.] when we came i saw a most glorious & magnifick roome, whose covert was supported all about with rich columnes of the porphyre stone, and the oversilings loaden with mosaick worke, & overgilded with gold, the floore being curiously indented with intermingled alabaster and black shining parangone: on my left hand i saw a platformd rocke, all covered with thicke and ingraven boords of silver; and in it a hole of a cubits deepe, in which (say they) the crosse stood whereon our saviour was crucified: and on every side thereof a hole for the good & bad theeves, were then put to death with him. discending from mount calvarie, we came to the tombe of godfrey du bulloine, who was the first proclaimed christian king of jerusalem, and refused to be crowned there, saying; it was not decent, the servants head should be crowned with gold, where the maisters head had beene crowned with thornes; having this inscription ingraven on the one side: [two famous sepulchers.] hic jacet inclytus godfridus de bullion, quitotam hanc terram acquisivit cultui divino, cujus anima requiescat in pace. and over against it, is the tombe of king baldwine his brother, which hath these verses in golden letters curiously indented. rex baldevinus, judas alter machabeus spes patriæ, vigor ecclesiæ, virtus, utriusque; quem formidabant, cui dona, tributa ferebant. cæsar, �gypti dan, ac homicida damascus; proh dolor! in modico clauditur hoc tumulo. the other things within the church they shewed us, were these, a marble pillar, whereunto (say they) our saviour was bound, when he was whipped, and scourged for our sakes: the place in a low celler, about fourteene stone degrees under the ground, where the crosse was hid [where christ was nailed to the crosse.] by the jewes, and found againe by s. helen: the place where christ was crowned with thornes, which is reserved by the abasines, and where the souldiers cast lots for his garment; the place where he was imprisoned, whiles they were making of his crosse, and where the crosse, being laid along upon the ground, our saviour was nailed fast to it; the rocke, which (as they say) rent at his crucifying, which is more likely to be done with hammers, and set one peece a foote from another, for the slit lookes, as if it had beene cleft with wedges and beetles. and yet the sacred scriptures say that it was not a rocke, but the temple that did rent in two from the bottome to the top, wherein these silly soule-sunke friers are meerely blinded, understanding no more than leying traditions; perfiting this their nationall proverb; con arte, et con inganno, ci vivono medzo l' anno con inganno et con arte, ci vivona l' altera parte. with guile and craft, they live the one halfe yeare with craft and guile, the other halfe as cleare. and lastly, they take upon them below calvary to shew us where the head of adam was buried. these and many other things, are so doubtfull, that i doe not register them for trueth (i meane in demonstrating the particular places) but onely relates them as i was informed. there are seven sorts of nations, different in religion, and language, who continually (induring life) remaine within this church, having incloystered lodgings joyning to the walls thereof: their victuals are brought dayly to them by their familiars, receiving the same at a great hole in the church-doore; for the turkes seldome open the entry unlesse it be when pilgrimes come, save one houres space onely every saturday in the afternoone, and at some extraordinary festivall daies: and yet it doth not stand open then, but onely opened to let strangers in and shut againe: [seven religious families.] for this purpose each family have a bell fastened at their lodging, with a string reaching from thence to the church doore, the end whereof hangeth outwardly, by the which commodity, each furnisher ringing the bell, giveth warning to his friends, to come receive their necessars, for through the body of the church they must come to the porch-doore, and returne from it, to the cloyster. the number of those, who are tied to this austere life, are about three hundred and fifty persons, being italians, greekes, armenians, �thiopians, jacobines, a sort of circumcised christians, nestorians, and chelfaines of mesopotamia. the day before the resurrection, about the houre of mid-night, the whole sects and sorts of christians orientall (that were come thither in pilgrimage, and dwelt at jerusalem) convened together, which were about the number of sixe thousand men, women, and children: for being separated by the patriarkes in two companies, they compassed the chappell of the holy grave nine times; holding in their hands burning candles, made in the beginning pittifull, and lamentable regreetings, but in the ending, there were touking of kettle-drummes, sounding of horne-trumpets, and other instruments, dauncing, leaping, and running about the sepulcher, with an intollerable tumult, as if they had beene all mad, or distracted of their wits. thus is the prograce of their procession performed in meere simplicitie, wanting civilitie, and government. but the turkes have a care of that; for in the middest of all this hurley burley, they runne amongst them with long rods, correcting their misbehaviour with cruell stroakes: and so these slavish people, even at the height of their ceremonious devotion are strangely abused. but our procession begun before theirs, and with a greater regard, because of our tributes: the turkes meane while guarding us, not suffering the other christians to be participant in the singular dottage of the [an abhominable idolatry.] romish folly, being after this manner: first the guardian, and his friers brought forth of a sacrastia, allotted for the same purpose, the wodden portracture of a dead corpes, representing our saviour, having the resemblance of five bloody wounds, the whole body of which image, was covered with a cambricke vale: where having therewith thrice compassed the chappell of the holy grave, it was carried to mount calvary, and there they imbalmed the five timber holes; with salt, oyle, balme, and odoriferous perfumes. then the guardian, and the other twelve friers kneeled downe, and kissed each one of the five suppositive wounds: the turkes meanewhile laughing them to scorne in their faces, with miserable derision. thence they returned, and layd the senselesse blocke uppon the holy grave, whence being dismissed, the papall ceremony ended. truely hereupon, may i say, if the romane jesuites, dominicans and franciscans, there resident in certayne speciall parts of the turkes dominions, had onely behaved themselves as their polliticke charge required, and dismissed from the paganisme eyes, onely their idolatrous images, veneration of pictures, crosses, and the like externall superstitious rites: these infidels i say, had long agoe (without any insight of religion) bene converted to the christian faith. for besides all this blindnesse, what infinite abhominable idolatries commit they in italy and spaine; in clothing the pictures of dead abbots, monkes, priors, guardians, and the better kind of officiall friers and priests, with robes of sattin, velvet, [damnable and intolerable superstition.] damas, taffaty, long gownes and coules of cloth, shirts, stockings, and shoes: and what a number of livelesse portrayed prioresses, motherlesse nunnes, yet infinite mothers, be erected (like the maskerata of morice-dancers) in silver, gold, gilded brasse, yron, stone, tynne, lead, copper, clay, and timber shapes, adorned with double and triple ornaments: over-wrought with silke, silver, and gold-laces, rich bracelets, silke grograine, and cambricke vales, chaines, smockes, ruffes, cuffes, gloves, collers, stockings, garters, pumpes, nose-gayes, beeds, and costly head-geire; setting them on their altars, o spectaculous images! adoring them for gods, in kneeling, praying, & saying masses before them: yet they are none of their avowed, allowed, and canonized pontificall saints: for although they be bastards & wooden blocks, yet are they better clad, then their lupish legitimate ones, no, i may say, as the best kings daughter alive. which is a sinfull, odious, and damnable idolatry; and i freely confesse at some times, and in some parts i have torne a peeces those rich garments from their senselesse images and blockes, thinking it a greater sinne not to do it than to stand staring on such prodigall prophannesse, with any superstitious respect, or with indifferent forbearance to winke at the wickednesse of idolaters. here the guardiano offered for ten peeces of gold (although my due be thirty chickens sayd he) to make me knight of the holy grave, or of the order of jerusalem, which i refused, knowing the condition of that detestable oath i behooved to have sworne; but i saw two of these other pilgrimes receive that order of knighthood. [the knights of the holy grave.] the manner whereof is thus: first they bind themselves with a solemne vow, to pray (during life) for the pope, king of spaine, and the duke of venice, from whom the friers receive their maintenance; and also in speciall, for the french king, by whose meanes they obtaine their liberty of the great turke, to frequent these monumentall places. secondly, they are sworne enemies to protestants, and others, who will not acknowledge the superiority of the romane church. thirdly, they must pay yearely some stipend unto the order of the franciscans. these attestations ended, the frier putteth a gilded spurre on his right heele, causing the yong made knight stoope downe on his knees, and lay his hands on the holy grave: after this he taketh a broad sword from under his gray gowne (being privately carried for feare of the turkes) which is (as he sayd) the sword, wherewith victorious godfrey conquered jerusalem, and giveth this new upstart cavaliero, nine blowes upon the right shoulder. loe here the fashion of this papisticall knighthood, which i forsooke. indeed upon the knight-hood they have certaine priviledges among the papists, of which these are two: if a malefactor being condemned and brought to the gallows, any of these knights may straight cut the rope and releeve him: the other is, they may carry and buy silkes through all spaine and italy, or elsewhere, and pay no custome, neither in comming nor going, nor for any silke ware, where the romish church hath any commandement. after our guardiano had ended his superstitious rites and ceremonies, upon easter day, before midnight, we returned to the monastery, having stayed three dayes within that church: and the next day thereafter, the nine ragusan and venetian factors left us, returning backe to their severall stations. about sixe of the clocke, on monday morning, the padre viccario, and the aforesayd john baptista accompanying us, we travailed abroad in the hilly countrey of judea. in this dayes journey, the places of any note we saw were these: [certaine relicts of monuments.] first, where the daughters of jerusalem came foorth to meete saul, crying, saul hath slaine his thousand, and david his ten thousand: and for memory of this standeth a certayne olde pillar of marble. next, the valley of trebin, where david slew the great goliath. and for remembrance of that, there are a great heape of stones layd together in the bottome of the valley, like to the relickes of an old monument. thirdly, bezura, where absalom killed his brother ammon for thamars sake, whereof nothing but the name is onely reserved. [emaus.] fourthly, the castle of emaus, now altogether ruinated, except only three fire houses of moores; in which our saviour was knowne after his resurrection, by the two disciples in breaking of bread; where now the remanents of that house being vaulted, is turned over for a shelterage to sheepe; and a soft paved lodging for quivering goates. fifthly, the valley of gibeon, where the ray-beaming sunne stood still, at the voice of joshua, from his naturall course. joshua . . sixtly, the toombe or buriall place of samuel, that divine prophet of the lord: over the which the moores have a moskque erected, wherein we could not enter, but hard by and without it, we found one of the finest fountaines in all judea, and yet not a dwelling house neere unto it by three miles, in regard of the sassinous and infertile ground about it, the water whereof was exceeding light, sweete, and pleasant in digestion. seventhly, the tombes of the valiant captaine judas macchabeus, and his children, whereupon are now onely the ruines of an old chappell, which is converted in a [the buriall place of the kings and queenes of israel.] hould for sheepe and goates: and last of all, the buriall place of the noble family of the kings and queenes of israel, or jerusalem, being neere unto the citty, and within a short halfe mile. the entry whereto was so straite, that on our backes we behoved to slide downe, above ten paces under the ground, with light candles in our hands. in that spacious place we saw twenty foure chambers hewen out of a marble rocke. each roome hath a hanging stone doore of a great thicknesse, so artificially done by the skilfull art of masons, that the rarest spirit of tenne thousand cannot know how these doores have bene made, so to move as they do, being a firme rocke both below and above; and the doores have neither iron nor timber-worke about them: but by cunning are made so to turne, and in that same place where they grew they are squared; yea, and so exquisitely done, that the most curious carpenter cannot joyne a peece of boord so neatly, as these stone doores joyne with the rocke. in each of these roomes are two sepulchers, wherein i saw the bones of some of these dead princes. thursday, the tenth day of my being at jerusalem, not reckoning the two dayes we spent in going to jordan, the weeke before: we i say, ishued forth of the citty earely, with our aforesayd guides, riding westward: the first remarkeable thing we saw, was the place (as they say) where the crosse grew, whereon christ suffered: being reserved by greekes, who have a convent builded over it: that crosse is sayd to have bene of foure sundry kinds of wood, and not of one tree, for they shewed us but one hole where it grew, and so they hold it to have bene of one peece of olive tree, but this i suspend, leaving it to be searched, by the pregnancy of riper judgements then mine, howsoever opinious. [the leying vilany of a rogish greeke.] and here i cannot forget a dissembling knavish greeke, who came here to london some eight yeares ago, to beg support for the reparation of this decayed monastery of the holy crosse. well, gundamore the spanish ambassadour intertained him; and recommended his cause to our politicque power: a contribution is granted, over all england for the same purpose, and also recoiled, besides the severall acknowledgements of our noble courtiers: oportunity come, i rancountred with this counterfeit rascall in white hall: whereupon diverse gentlemen his majesties servants, desired me to try him, if he had bene at jerusalem, or dwelt at the cloister of the holy crosse: presently i demanded him, where the convent stood, he replied within jerusalem, and upon mount moriah: which was false, for the convent is remote from the citty, about three english miles: i posed him further about the situation of jerusalem, &c. the quantity of this cloyster, of its church, of the number of friers, who lived in it, with many more questions, whose circumstances would be tedious: to any one of which, he could not reply, but stood shivering for feare and shame; neither had he never bene in asia nor these parts: whereupon stealing out of the court, he was no more seene abroad: for he had got at court, and in the kingdome, above twelve hundreth pounds starling, besides the advancement of the papists, and recusants: and here was a tricke, that then the spanish faction put upon us and themselves also being deceaved by a deceiver, deceived us with a double deceit, policy, and lyes. about five miles further, we arrived at a village, on the mountaine of judea, where we saw a disinhabited house, in which elizabeth the mother of saint john baptist dwelt, when mary came up from galilee to salute her; and neare to this, we beheld (as they say) the sanctuary, wherein zacharias was stricken dumbe till elizabeth was delivered: two miles further, on a rocky mountaine, [saint john the baptists cave.] we arrived at a cave, wherein (say they) s. john did his pennance till he was nineteene yeare of age, after which time, he went downe and dwelt at jordan: it is a pretty fine place hewen out of a rocke, to the which we mounted by twelve steppes, having a window cut through a great thicknesse of firme stone, whence we had the faire prospect of a fruitfull valley: and from the mouth of this delectable grotto, gusheth forth a most delicious fountaine. returning thence, we passed over an exceeding high mountaine, from whence we saw the most part of judea; and to the westward, in the way of egypt, the castle of the prophet elisha, and idumea the edomits land, lying also betweene egypt and jerusalem: this cloudy height, is called the mountaine of judea, because it over-toppeth all the rest of the mountaines, that circumviron jerusalem, palestine, galilee, phenicia, or samaria. descending on the south side of the same hill, we arrived at phillips fountaine, in which he baptized the eunuch of �thiopia, standing full in the way of gaza. here we paid some certaine madins unto the moores of the village, for accoasting the place, and drinking of the water: so did we also for the sight of every speciall monument in judea. at night, we lodged in bethleem, in a monasterie of the same fransciscans of jerusalem, being onely sixe friers: after supper we went all of us (having candles) to the place, where our saviour was borne; over the which, there is a magnificent church builded: yea, the most large and royall workmanship that for a church is in all asia, or affricke, being decored with a hundred and fifty pillars. but before we came where the crub had beene, we passed certaine difficile wayes; where, being arrived, wee entered in a gorgeous roome, adorned with marble, saphyre, and alabaster stones; and there they shewed us [christs crub at bethleem.] both the place and the resemblance of the crub: over which were hanging lampes of pure gold, and within their circles oyle continually burning. not farre from that place, and within the body of the admirable church, they shewed us the part, over the which the starre stayed, that conducted the three wise-men from the east, who came out of chaldea, to worship christ, and presented gifts unto him. from thence they brought us to a cave without the towne, wherein (say they) the virgin mary was hid, when herod persecuted the babes life, (from which also being warned by the angell) she and joseph fled downe into �gypt with the child. in this time of her feare, say they, the milke left her blessed breasts, so that the babe was almost starved, but shee praying to the almighty, there came forthwith abundance, which overflowing her breasts, and falling to the ground, left ever since, as they alledge, this consequent vertue to this cave. [admirable dust.] the earth of the cave is white as snow, and hath this miraculous operation, that a little of it drunke in any liquor, to a woman, that after her child-birth is barren of milke, shall forthwith give abundance: which is not onely availeable to christians, but likewise to turkish, moorish, and arabianish women, who will come from farre countries, to fetch of this earth. i have seene the nature of this dust practised, wherefore i may boldly affirme it, to have the force of a strange vertue: of the which earth i brought with me a pound weight, and presented the halfe of it to our sometimes gracious queene anne of blessed memory, with divers other rare relicts also, as a girdle, and a paire of garters of the holy grave, all richly wrought in silke and gold, having this inscription at every end of them in golden letters, sancto sepulchro, and the word jerusalem, &c. wednesday following, wee hired foure and twenty moores to conduct us unto [salomons fish-ponds.] salomons fish-ponds, which are onely three, being never a whit decayed; and to fons segnatus, whence commeth the water in a stone-conduit, along the mountaines, that serveth jerusalem, which worke was done by salomon. the ponds being hewne out, and made square from the devalling face of a precipitating mountaine; through which the streame of fons signatus runneth, filling the ponds till it come to its owne aquadotte. returning thence, and keeping our way southward, we passed through the valley of hebron, where jacob dwelt, and entered into the fields of sychem, where jacobs sonnes kept their fathers sheepe; and not far hence, they shewed us a dry pit, which they called josephs pit, that was at dothan; wherein he was put by his brethren, before they sold him to the ismaelites. in our backe comming to bethleem, we saw a cave in the desart of ziph, wherein david hid himselfe, when he was persecuted by king saul; and the field adra, where the angels brought the glad tidings of salvation unto the sheepheards. unto all which parts our moorish guard and john baptista, brought us and conducted us backe againe to bethleem, where we stayed the second night. [the towne of bethleem.] bethleem is the pleasantest village in all judea, situated on a pretty hill, and five english miles from jerusalem: it produceth commodiously, an infinite number of olive and figge-trees, some cornes, and a kinde of white wine, wherewith we were furnished all the time of our abode there; also in, and about jerusalem. in our way, as we came backe to the city, the next day following, the viccario shewed us a little moskee, kept by turkes, in which (sayd hee) was the tombe of rachel, jacobs wife, who died in that place; as shee was travelling from padan aram, with her husband jacob. the ruines also of a house, where habacuk the prophet dwelt; a turpentine tree growing yet by the way side, under the which (say they) the virgin mary was wont to repose her selfe in travelling. we saw also a naturall rocke in the high way; whereon (say they) elias oft slept, and is not ashamed to say, that the hollow dimples of the stone, was onely made by the impression of his body; as though the tender flesh of man could leave the print of his portraiture on a hard stone. and not farre from this, they shewed us the place, where the starre appeared to the wise men, after they had left herod to seeke for the saviour of mankind. approaching mount sion, we saw a quadrangled dry pond; wherein (say they) beersheba the wife of urias, was washing, when david looked forth from the toppe of his pallace, gazing on the aspect of his lust, gave the bridle of reason, fast tyed in the hands of temptation; and becomming subject to the subtilty of sinne, was bewitched by her beauty; wherewith corruption triumphed in nature, and godlinesse decreased in voluntary consent; and from a royall prophet fell in the bloody lists of murther and adultery. over against this place, on the north side of gehinnon, [king davids pallace.] we saw the ruines of a palace wherein david dwelt, which hath beene one of the angles of the ancient citty; and standeth at the division of the valley ennon, which compassed (as a ditch) the north part of mount syon, even to the valley jehosophat, and so eastward, being now filled up with fragments of old walles; and the valley of gehinnon lying west, and east; bordering along the south side of sion, till it joyne also with the narrow valley of jehosophat, which invironeth the east, and devalling parts of jerusalem. neere to this demolished tower, we saw the habitation of simeon, who having seene the blessed messias, sayd: now lord let thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seene thy salvation. and now lastly uppon the twelfth day of my abode there, early on thursday morning, the guardiano, twelve friers, and john baptista (because that was the last day of seeing any more monuments, or was to be seene there) accompanied us: as wee issued at the south-gate of the city, we came to a place, on the skirt of syon, where (say they) peter after his deniall of christ his maister, wept bitterly. descending by the side of that same hill, we crossed the valley gehinnon, [acaldema.] and came to acaldema, the potters field, or field of blood; which is a little foure-squared roome, oppositive to the devalling side of the south-falling syon: three parts whereof are invironed with a natural rocke, and the fourth square bordering with the valley, is made up of stone worke: the top is covered, and hath three holes, where through they let the dead christians fall downe; for it is a buriall place of pilgrimes to this day. as i looked downe, i beheld a great number of dead corpes; some whereof had white winding sheets, and newly dead, lying one above another in a lumpe; yeelded a pestilent smell, by reason they were not covered with earth, save onely the architecture of a high vault, which maketh that in a long time the corpes cannot putrifie and rot. neare unto this campo, we entred into a darke cave, where (say they) the apostles hid themselves, when christ was taken. at the foote of the same valley, we came to [ponto nehemia.] ponto nehemia, in which place the jewes did hide the holy fire, when they were taken captives to babylon; walking more downeward, toward the valley of jehosophat, we saw a darke celler under the ground without windowes; wherein (said the guardian) the idolatrous jewes made a sacrifice of their children unto a brazen image called moloch, which being made hot, they inclosed them in the hollownesse thereof, and so slew them: and least their crying should have moved any compassion towards them, they made a thundring noise with drums, and other instruments, whereupon the place was called tophet, mentioned in jer. . . hence we came to the poole of siloam, in which wee washed our selves, the water whereof falleth downe through a rocke, from the city above, running straight to the valley of jehosophat; and there we saw also the remnant of that sacked towre of siloam. neare to this we saw a fountaine, where (say they) the virgin mary used oft to wash the babes clothes and linnen clouts. from thence we crossed the [brook cedron.] brooke cedron (which guttereth through the valley of jehosophat) and is alwaies dry, unlesse it be in december, when the raine falleth there impetuously for a month together, which is all the winter they have in these parts: during which time none may labour, nor travell, but forced to keepe themselves within houses: having past i say this brooke wee came to the tombes of absolon and zacharias, and the cave wherein s. james was wont to hide himselfe from the persecuting jewes. ascending more upward on the hill, in the way of bithania, wee saw these places, where judas hanged himselfe, over which there is a vault erected, like a halfe moone, in memory of his selfe murther, and hard by they shewed us where the withered figge tree grew, the place being inclosed within a high stone dyke; and halfe a mile thence we came to the ruined house of simon the lepar. [lazarus tomb in bethania.] arriving at bithania, we saw the castle and tombe of lazarus, on whom christ shewed a miracle, in raising him from the grave, after hee had beene . dayes dead. it is a singular and rare alabaster tombe, and so exquisitely done, that it excelleth (jerusalem excepted) all the monuments in judea, erected for the like purpose, being inclosed within a delicate chappell under the ground. not farre thence in the same village, wee saw the decayed house where martha, and mary magdalen inhabited, and the stone whereon christ sate (say they) when he sayd to martha, mary hath chosen the best part. leaving this moorish bithania, being now a village of no qualitie, we returned by beggerly bethphage, and finding it farre worser, about mid-day wee arrived on the top of mount olivet, where wee dined on our owne provision carried with us, and then proceeded in our sights. from this place wee had the full prospect of jerusalem: for the city standing upon the edge of a hill, can not be seene all at one sight; save on this mountaine, which is two times higher then mount sion. these are the monuments shewne us upon the [mount olivet and the places of note thereof.] mount of olives: first, the print of the left foote of our saviour, in an immoveable stone, which he made when he ascended to heaven; the guardiano told us further, that the right footes print was taken away by the turkes; and detained by them in the temple of salomon: but who can thinke our saviour trode so hard at his ascention, as to have left the impression of his feete behind him. next the place where hee foretold the judgement to come, and the signes, and the wonders, that should be seene in the heavens before that dreadfull day. thirdly, the place where the symbolum apostolorum was made, which is a fine chamber under the ground, like a church, having twelve pillars to support it. fourthly, where christ taught his disciples the pater noster, and where he fell in an agony, when hee sweat blood and water. fifthly, where peter, james, and john slept, whiles our saviour prayed, and returned so oft to awake them; and also below that, where the other disciples were left. sixtly, the garden of gethsemane, where christ used commonly to pray; in the which place he was apprehended by the officers of the high priests, and it was also where judas kissed him, and the sergeants fell backward on the ground. seventhly, they shewed us a stone marked with the head, feete, and elbowes of jesus, in their throwing of him downe, when as they bound him, after hee was taken, and ever since (say they) have these prints remained there. and lastly, at the foote of mount olivet, in the valley of jehosophat, we descended by a paire of staires of forty three steppes, and sixe paces large, in a faire church builded under the ground: where (say they) the monument of the assumption of the virgin mary is, and did show it unto us, whom (they thinke) was borne in jerusalem, dwelt at bethleem, and nazareth, and dyed uppon mount syon. [sacred and singular tombes.] i saw also there, the sepulchers of joseph her husband, joachim her father, and of anna her mother. and for which sights paying sixteene madins a man, to certaine moores: we returned to our monastery againe night to repose us, having seene all the antiquities and places of note, were to be seene, in, and about all judea. loe, i have plainely described all these monuments, by the order of these twelve severall dayes: the like heretofore, was never by a travailer so punctually, so truly, and so curiously set downe, and made manifest to the intellective reader. but as i sayd in the beginning of my description, so say i now also at the conclusion, some of these things are rediculous, some of manifest untruths, some also doubtfull, and others, somewhat more credible, and of apparent truth. the recapitulation whereof, is only by me used, as i was informed, by gaudentius saybantus the father guardian, laurenzo antonio il viccario, and the trenchman john baptista. now in jerusalem, wee eleaven frankes stayed three dayes longer, preparing our selves for a new voyage to go downe to egypt with a caravan of grand cayro: in which time the aforesaid frier laurenzo, whose life i had saved on the quarantanam, propined me privatly with twelve crosses made of the olive wood of mount olivet: each crosse having . relickes indented in them, with fourty paire of chaplets made of that same wood, two turkish handkerchiefes, and three paire of garters and girdles of the holy grave: all wrought in silke and gold, with diverse other things, &c. which were not so thankfully received, as they were thankfully given, by a gratefull and unforgetfull frier. meanewhile, the last day of our staying there, we went all of us friers and pilgrimes in againe to the holy grave, where we remained al night. earely on the morrow there came a fellow to us, one elias areacheros, a christian inhabitour at bethleem, and purveier for the friers; who did ingrave on [the armes of jerusalem.] our severall armes upon christs sepulcher the name of jesus, and the holy crosse; beeing our owne option, and desire: and heere is the modell thereof. but i, decyphered, and subjoyned below mine, the four incorporate [king james his foure crownes.] crowns of king james, with this inscription, in the lower circle of the crowne, vivat jacobus rex: returning to the fellow two piasters for his reward: i fixt these lines for king james. long may he live, and long may god above confirme, reward, encrease his christian love: that he (blest king of men) may never cease to keep this badge, the sacred prince of peace; and there's the motto, of his maiden crowne, hæc nobis invicta miserunt, ne're wonne. which when the guardian understood, what i had done in memory of my prince upon that sacred tombe, hee was greatly offended with me, that i should have polluted that holy place, with the name of such an arch-enemy to the romane church. but not knowing how to mend himselfe, and hearing me to recite of the heroick vertues of our matchlesse monarch: who for bounty, wisedome, and learning, was not paragonized among all the princes of the earth: his fury fell; and begun to intreate me, to make it knowne to his majesty, that hee never allowed any support to their afflicted lives, neyther any gratuity for maintayning of those sacred monuments at jerusalem, his subjects being as free here as they. which indeed i performed, for after my arrivall in england, and having propined his majesty with diverse rare things, and a turpentine rod from jordan; in the midst of my discourses, i told his highnesse, in the privy garden of greenewich, the guardians request. who indeed gave me a most gracious answere, saying, they never sought any helpe of him, and if they had, he would have supported their necessity. bidding farewell to the church of st. salvatore, and being re incloystred againe, after breakfast, the reckoning of stridor dentium came to us, [of english money.] for . dayes diet, being to each man six shillings a day, amounting for my part to pounds two shillings. then the guardians secretary, presented me my patent under their great seale; & that cost me . chickens of gold. the beginning whereof i recall, although the principall, [the discourse of the seale is in the page following.] be lost in the inquisition of malaga, was thus: frater gaudentius saybantus ordinis minorum regularis observantiæ sancti antonii dei & apostolicæ sedis gratia, sacri montis sion guardianus, terræ sanctæ gubernator & custos; ac in partibus orientis apostolicus commissarius, salutem in domino sempiternam. notum vobis facimus, &c. the contents whereof, reciting all the memorable things i saw within the holy land, there was thereunto annexed their great seale, sticking fast, or locked in upon the lower face of the parchment, the impression whereof, had the effigies of the twelve apostles, and christ in the midst: having this circumscription about: magnum sigillum sacri montis sion guardianus. the model whereof is affixed in the former page. then had we avaricious baptista our guide and interpreter to reward, every one of us propining him with two chickens of gold: and lastly wee gratified the gaping steward, the cerberian porter, the cymerian cooke, and his �tnean face, with a chicken of gold the man, from each of us: amounting in all among the foure catzocullioni, to twenty foure pounds fifteene shillings sterling. nay this was not all; for even when the �gyptian caravan, was staying for us without the city, the guardian [greedy and flattering friers.] made a begging sermon to us, imploring our bounties to commiserate and support their great calamities, losses, and oppressions inflicted upon them by the infidels, with many other base & flattering speeches: which indeed nine of us refused, because of the great extortion he had imposed uppon us before; but the two germane barons gave him the value of sixe english pounds, or there abouts. and now finally, or i leave mount syon, i thinke it not amisse, to give the itching travailer a frozen stomacke, who perhaps soweth words in the wind, conceptions in the ayre, and catcheth salmond swimming on atlas: i will now (i say) justly cast up to him the charges i defrayed within the wals of jerusalem, not reckoning my journall expences and tributs else where abroad; arising to eighteene pounds sixteene shillings starling: and there a cooling card for his caprizziat, and imaginary inventions: and it may serve also, to damnifie the blind conceit of many who thinke that travellers are at no charges, goe where they will, but are freely maintained every where; and that is as false, as an hereticall errour. may the twelfth, and the eighteene day of my staying there, about mid-day, the other ten and i joyned with the caravan, who formerly had conditioned with us to carry us to �gypt, and to furnish the rest camels or dromidories to ride upon, (for i would never ride any) for nineteene piasters the man, discharging us also all tributes and caffars were to be imposed upon us by the way; and so we marched through the south-west part of judea towards idumea, or the edomits land; and meane-while i gave [the authors good night to jerusalem.] jerusalem this goodnight, &c. thrice sacred sion, sometimes blazd abrode, to be the mansion, of the living god; for prophets, oracles, apostles deare and godly kings, who raisd great glory here: where aarons rod, the arke, and tables two, and mannaes pot, fire of sacrifice so from heaven that fell: were all inclos'd in thee containing neare, what not contaynd could be: to thee sweet sion, and thine eldest daughter, which titus fiercely sackt with jewish slaughter: and to thy second birth, raisd to my sight i prostrate bid, thy blessed bounds goodnight: next for the holy land, which i have trac'd, from end to end; and all its beauty fac'd; where kings were stall'd, disthron'd, defac'd, renown'd, cast downe, erect'd, unscepterd, slayne, and crown'd: the land of promise, once a sea of oyle whence milke and honey flowd; yea, too a soyle where men, and might, like miracles were raisd sprung from a garden plot: a wonder praisd above conceit: whose strength did farre excell all other lands; take thou my kind farewell. and last franciscan friers, o painted tombes! where vice and lust lurke low, beneath your wombes; whose hearts, like hell, doe gape for greed of gold, that have religion, with your conscience sold, to you i say a poxe, o flattering friers! and damn'd deceivers, borne & bred for leyers, whose end my purse implores; o faithlesse fellowes! and leaves you for your paines, curst hamans gallowes. having bid farewell to syon, we marched that afternoone in the way of gaza; and arrived at night in a [kind jewes to us franks.] goodly village, more full of jewes than moores, called hembaluda, situate on the face of a fruitfull hill, and the last limit of judea: here the germanes and i were well intertained gratis, by certaine jewes that spoke italian, and much rejoyced to see such strangers in these bounds, for two of them had beene borne in venice: the captaine, and our company were all �gyptians, all of them being christians, called copties, viz. beleevers: their number was about eight hundred persons, who had come up from �gypt, to dignify for devotions sake this easter time, being the great feast of jerusalem; of whom by the way we received great affability & kind respect without any offence. that night the whole caravan lay in the fields, and we stayed within the towne making merry with our hebraick friends, earely the next morning wee imbraced our idumean way, finding this edomitish land sorely distressed by the arabs, and yet the inhabitants were subject to the turke: in this long dayes journey we found abundance of water, and all other necessaries for our reliefe, and yet the people were both rude & extreame barbarous, having no more show of humanity then the foure footed leopards of berdoa. the dutch gentlemen grew affrayed at these savages, as being unacquainted before with such an awful sight; and to dispell their feare, tush sayd i, courage gentlemen, no scope, no hope, and flashd over these lines in italian to them; to gallant mindes, all kind of soyles they be, their native land; as fish imbrace the sea: for they who would traverse earths variant face, must take their hazard, as they finde the place; and that's my soyle, best meanes can me defray, but sirs be glad, wee came not here to stay. [the auncient city of gaza.] againe night we declined towards gaza, and there stayed in a fine cane prepared for travellers; where the whole caravan, souldiers, camels, dromodores, mules, and asses were all well satisfied and refreshed: the next morning we went to the bezestan or market place, and there furnished our selves with provision of bread, hens, egges, garlicke, and onions, sufficient enough to carry us through the desarts being ten dayes journey. gaza now is called habalello, and is composed of twelve hundred fire-houses, and sensible against the incursions of arabs: the ruvid cittizens, being turkes, moores, jews, domeseticke arabians, with a few georgians, & nostranes. there is a garrison here of souldiers, and a turkish captaine, that commandeth the towne and castle: in the afternoone, we set our faces forward to that fearefull wildernesse, and travailed or night twelve miles, pitching our tents beside a source or standing well. here our guard, kept a strict watch about us all night; and i kept as well the germanes from langour, cherishing them with joviall merriments, for they were my inward friends, yet of a faint and fearefull nature. at the breach of day we set forward, passing through diverse rockey and shrubby heights, till afternoone, and then wee declined to a sandy valley: where when come, what with the deepnesse [burning sands.] of the way, and the great heate reflexing upon the sand, and from the sand to our faces, we were miserably turmoiled, especially i, who went alwayes on foote. having past this wearisome bottome, and before night marching along the skirt of a craggy hill, two hundred arabs broake out upon us from holes and bushes, and shrewdly annoyed our company with arrowes, till a contribution of sixteene piasters was sent to them. the halfe of that night we pitched our tents, in a pastorable [wild arabs selling water.] plaine, where some scattering arabs, sold us water in wooden cups, carrying it in wilde boare skins upon their naked backes. two of which savages our captayne hyred, to guide us the next day to the first castle of the three, that were built by the turkes, and a dayes journey distant one from another; beeing each of them strongly guarded with souldiers, and that for the reliefe of caravans, being the most dangerous, and most desolate place in the desarts. our guides the day following, brought us through the best and safest places of the country, where we found certayne profitable parts, planted with haire-cloath tents, and over-cled heere and there with spots of sheepe and goates: and yet were we not there without the invasion of stragling arabs, and paying of tributes, which the captaine defrayed for us, our condition being formerly made so at jerusalem. before night with great heat, and greater drouth, we approached to the first castle, where the captayne thereof received us kindly, causing our tents to be pitched round about the quadrangled tower. here we had abundance of water (though i would rather have had wine) to suffice the whole company, drawne out of a cisterne, and reposing safely uppon the hard ground, the castle garrison watched us, and our guard watched them. [grievous and desertuous travelling.] thence with a new guide the sequell morne, we marched through a fiery faced plaine, scorch'd with burning heate, and deepe rolling sand, where diverse of our smallest beasts perished, with sixe men and women also in relieving their overwhelmed asses. long or midday, having got to a hard height, we pitched our tents, reposing under their shaddowes till the evening, for wee were not able to indure the intollerable heate of the sun; and so did wee likewise over-umbrate our selves every mid-day. the vigour of the day gone, and the cooling night come, we advanced forward to the middle castle, being led by our guide, and the pale lady of the night leading him: where when come, wee found neyther that fort answerable to the former in strength, nor the captaine so humane as the other was: here wee were all offended with the scarcity of water, the captayne playing the villaine, crossed us, because the caravanship were christians; at last about mid-night some . arabs, came to us loaden with water, carried on their backes. to whom we payed for every caraff, beeing an english quart, three aspers of silver, ten aspers going to a shilling: whereof my kinde dutch-men drunke too much, the water being thicke and of a brounish colour; and hot like pisse, offended their over-wained stomackes; which as i supposed, was the chiefest cause the next day of some of their deaths. after mid-night, the turkish captaine, and our caravan fell at variance, about water to our beasts, who were ready to choake, and if they had not bin prevented with souldiers on both sides, it had drawne us and them, to a finall mischiefe. the discord unpacified, before the following day, and within night, we imbraced our wilsome and fastidious way, journying through many dens, and umbragious caves, over-shaded with mouldring heights; [savage women having their child-bed in caves.] in some whereof we found savage women lying in their barbarous child-bed: having their bodies naked (the fore-face of their wombe excepted) their beds were made of soft sand, and over-spread with leaves a foote thicke; whose new borne babes lying in their armes, were swadled with the same leaves. and for all their sicknesse, which was very small, they had none of our wives sugred sops, burnt wines, venison pasties, delicate fare, and great feasting, nor a moneths lying in, and then churched, putting their husbands to incompatible charges. no, no, their food is onely bread, garlicke, hearbes, and water, and on the third or fourth day, in stead of their churching, they goe with bowes and arrowes to the fieldes againe, hunting for spoiles and booties from passing caravans. advancing in our course, we fell downe from the hils in a long bottome of sand, above sixe miles in length: wherein with sore wrestling agaynst the parching sun, and could get no ground to pitch our tents to over shade us; three of our germans, the two barons, signior strouse, and signior crushen, with one signior thomasio, tumbled downe from their beasts backes starke dead, being [the death of three germane gentlemen.] suffocated with the vigorous sunne, for it was in may, choaked also with extreame drouth, and the reflection of the burning sand; and besides their faire was growne miserable, and their water worse, for they had never beene acquainted with the like distresse before, though it was alwayes my vade mecum. whereupon the caravan staied and caused cast on their corpes againe, on their owne beasts backes, and carrying them to the side of a hard hill, we digged a hollow pit, and disspoyling them of their turkish cloathes, i did with my owne hands cast them all three one above another, in that same hole, and covering the corpes with mouldring earth, the souldiers helped me to role heavy stones above their grave, to the end, that the bloody jackals should not devoure their corpes; and to conclude this woefull and sorrowfull accident, the other germanes alive bestowed on me their dead friends turkish garments, because of my love and diligent care i ever did show them; which one of their empty mules carried for me to grand cairo. whence with diverse assaults, and greater paines, accoasting [the third castle of the desarts.] the third castle, with as great bewailing the losse of our friends, as we had contentment in our owne safety, we found this third captayne both humane and hospitable: who indeede himselfe in person with his garrison, watched us all night, and had a speciall care in providing water for us all, propining our captayne and us eight frankes before supper, with three roasted hens, and two capons: this turkish captayne told us there were three inhabited townes in these desarts, the chiefest whereof was sehan, situate on the red sea, having a harbor and shipping, that trade both to �gypt and �thiopia, whose commodities are silken stuffes and spices which they transport from meccha, and carrie to melinda, and the afore-sayd places in affricke: but now least i sinke in prolixity, discoursing of sinking sands, and make good the italian proverbe, chi troppo abbracio, nulla stringe, viz. that he who would imbrace too much, can hold nothing fast. i decist from this journall proceeding, and punctuall discourse of my laborious pen, wherein, notwithstanding the reader (i having layd open more than halfe of the wildernesse) may (like that learned geometrician, who finding the length of hercules foote on the hill olympus, drew forth the portraicture of his whole body thereby) easily conjecture by the former relation, the sequell sight of these desartuous places; and therefore the rest, i will onely epitomize in generall till mine arrivall at saleack on the confines of �gypt. [the bounds of the three arabias.] arabia is bounded on the west, with the red sea, and the �gyptian istmus: on the north with canaan, mesopotamia, and a part of syria: on the east with the persian gulfe, caldea, and assiria: on the south with the great ocean, and indian sea: this countrey lyeth from the east to the west, in length about . and some . miles in compasse. the people generally are addicted to theft, rapine, and robberies: hating all sciences mechanicall or civill, they are commonly all of the second stature, swift on foote, scelerate, and seditious, boysterous in speech, of colour tauny, boasting much of their triball antiquity, and noble gentry: notwithstanding their garments be borne with them from the bare belly, their food also semblable, to their ruvid condition, and as savagiously tame (i protest) as the foure footed citizens of lybia: they are not valourous, nor desperate in assaults without great advantage, for a . turkes is truely esteemed to be sufficient enough to incounter . arabs. their language extendeth it selfe farre both in asia, and affricke, in the former, through palestine, syria, mesopotamia, cilicia, even to the mount caucasus: in the latter, through �gypt, libia, and all the kingdomes of barbary even to morocco. this arabia deserta, is the place where the people of israel wandred forty yeares long, being fed with manna from heaven, and with water out of the driest rocks: in which is mount sinai, where the law of the two [the scurrile arabian desarts.] tables was promulgated. the most part of these desarts is neither fit for herbage nor tillage, being covered over with a dry, and a thicke sand, which the wind transporteth whither it listeth, in heapes and mountaines, that often intercept and indanger fatigated travellers. the inhabitants here are few, so are their cities, their dwellings being in sequestrate dennes and haire-cloath tents: the most of their wealth consisteth in camels dromidories, and goats. before our arrivall in saleak, we passed the little istmus of ground which parteth asia, and affrica, disjoyning the mediterranean and the red seas: divers have attempted to digge through this strait to make both seas meete for a nearer passage to india, of whom sesostris king of �gypt was the first: secondly, darius the great persian monarch: thirdly, another �gyptian king, who drew a ditch . foote broad, and . and odde miles long. but when he intended to finish it, he was forced to cease, for feare of overflowing all the lower land, the red sea being found to be higher by three cubits than the ordinary plaine of �gypt: yet howsoever it was, the ditch is hollow in divers parts, and fastidious, because of sands to passe over. at saleack we overtooke a great caravan of two thousand people, and twelve hundred camels and dromidores, which were loaden with the ware of aleppo, and come from damascus, intending their voyage for cayro, whose company we subtilly left, & marchd before them, for receiving of water by the way for our selves, and beasts out of cisternes, which we left dry behind us. [the nature of camels and dromidores.] a dromidore, and camel differ much in quality, but not in quantity, being of one height, bredth, and length; save only their heads and feete, which are proportionated alike; and the difference is such, that the dromidory hath a quicke and hard-reaching trot, and will ride above . miles in the day, if that his rider can indure the paine. but the camell is of a contrary disposition: for he hath a most slow and lazy pace, removing the one foote from the other, as though he were weighing his feete in a ballance; neither can he goe faster although he would: but he is a great deale more tractable then the other: for when his maister loadeth him, he falleth downe on his knees to the ground, and then riseth againe with his burthen, which will be marvailous great, sometimes . or . weight. the red sea, which we left to the westward of us, and our left hand is not red, as many suppose, but is the very colour of other seas: the reason for which it hath beene called mare rubrum, is only because of the bankes, rushes, sands & bushes that grow by the shore side, which are naturally red. some others have called it so, in respect of the brookes, which moses turned to red blood, who misconstruing the true sense, tooke seas, for rivers. it is vulgarly tearmed sinus arabicus, whose length is . miles. this sea is famous for the miraculous passage of the israelites through it, and the drowning of pharaoh and his people: and because of spices that were brought from india and arabia to alexandria, from whence the venetians dispersed the same through all europe and the mediterren coasts of asia and affrick: but this navigation is now discontinued by the portugals, english, and dutch; which bring such wares to their severall homes by the backe side of affricke: so that the trafficke [indian spices much weakned.] of alexandria is almost decayed, and the riches of the venetians much diminished; so is the vertue of the spices much impayred by too much moisture contracted, with the long and tedious carriage thereof. this afore-sayd saleack, is thought to be seated on the lower and eastmost end of gozan, consisting of eight hundred dwelling houses, being walled and fensible against the arabs, and defended also with a castle, and ten troupes of horse-men being janizaries. here we rested and refreshed our selves two nights, providing us fresh victuals for grand-cairo, being foure dayes journey distant; and at our leaving of saleack, i saluted this new seene countrey, with a greedy conceit of more curiosities. the seaventh part. now well met egypt, so our fate allots, for we have appetite, for thy flesh pots; but (ah!) the season, is too hot to eate of any viande, kid, mutton, or such meate: yet for thy coffa made of coave seede, we'le kindly drinke it, feed upon thy bred and fat our selves, with thy best hearbes and fruits for like, to our faint stomackes, best besuites: then mighty kingdome, once the royall land, where kings were first erect'd, did longest stand; and letters, hyeroglophicks, magicke arte, astrology, had first inventions part. for wonders, the piramedes: balme more good! the weeping crocadile, nyles swelling flood; deaths funerall mommeis; the sea-horse bred at damieta: the sphynx with grandure cled: and where base fortune, play'd the errand whoore, in making meane men great, and great men poore: in thee, i'le dive, though deep is thine old ground, and further far, then i can search or sound: yet when men shoot, o all the marke doe eye; but seldome touch't; enough, if they come nye: even so must i, for neerer i'le not claime, the best director, may mistake his ayme. but as the land is now, i hope i shall cleare hardest doubts, and give content to all. thence sought i malta, �tnaes burning flame, and stately sicile, gibels greatest fame. whence passing italy, the alpes i crost, and courting france, told time, how i was tost. departing from saleack, and having past one of their courses, which is our twelve miles, wee reincountred with infinite villages on both hands, and in our high way; all builded upon artificiall channels drawne from nylus; and these fabrickes, onely made up of wood or bricke, being one or two stories high. the captaine, in diverse parts at our mid-dayes reposing, was constrayned to buy water from the egyptians, to satisfie the company: yea, and that same night, the first of foure, or we came to cayre, at the village of bianstare, he payed five sultans of gold for watering all us and the beasts, amounting to thirty five shillings sterling. the next day journying towards a goodly towne, named saliabsteck, we travailed through a fruitful planure, fraught full of fruite trees, and abounding in wheate, [two seasons of riping graine in egypt.] rye, and barley, being new cut downe, may . for this was their first harvest, the land yeelding twice a yeare cornes; and the latter, is in our december recoiled. this land hath as it were a continuall summer, and notwithstanding of the burning heate, it produceth alwayes abundance of fruites and hearbes for all the seasons of the yeare: so that the whole kingdome is but a garden, having ever one fruite ready to be plucked downe, and another comming forwards; or like to the best sort of lemmon trees, that as some reape, some are growing greene, others budding forth, and some still in the floorish: even so is the beauty and fertility of all the lower �gypt; which although the country be not often troubled with raine, yet the rank serene or dew of the night, in the summer, refresheth all kindes of growing things: betweene saliabsteck, and cayre, being two dayes journey: we francks, bad farwell to water, and drunke daily of coffa, made of a seed coave, which being taken hot, and is ever kept boyling within fornaces in earthen pots, it expelleth the crudity of fruites and hearbes so much there frequented. arriving at last in this little world, the great cairo, and bidding farewell to our caravan, the three germanes and i, lodged with one signior marco antonio, a consul, there for venice; the other foure french men, going to their owne consul, a marseilian borne and there stayed. here with this venetian for three dayes, the dutch men and i had great cheare, but they far greater a dayly swallowing downe of strong cyprus wine, without mixture of water; which still i intreated them to forbeare, but they would not be requested. the season being cruell hot, and their stomacks surfeited with burning wine, upon the fourth day long or noone, [the last three germanes death in cayre.] the three dutch men were all dead; and yet me thought they had no sicknesse, the red of their faces staying pleasant, their eyes staring alwayes on mine, and their tongues were perfit even to the last of their breath. he who dyed last, and lived longest, was william dierganck, who left me all his owne gold, and what the former five had left him: delivering me the keyes of their three clogbags before the consul, declared by his mouth that he left me absolute heire to intromet with all, and whatsoever they had there: but eftsoones the treacherous consul, knowing that i was a stranger to them, and by accident met together at jerusalem, and that they were gentlemen, and well provided with gold, forgd a reason to himselfe and for his owne benefit, that he would meddle with all they left behind them, under this excuse, that he would be answerable to their friends for it, at his returne to venice: well, i am left to bury them, and with great difficulty bought one grave for them all three in a copties chappell, where i interred them: paying to the �gyptian christians for that eight foote of ground, ten sultans of gold, besides sixe piasters for carrying their corps hither, being two miles in the city distant from the consuls house. whence, ere i had returned, the venetian factor seased upon all, and shuting his gate upon my face, sent me out my owne budget: whereupon i addressed my selfe to the french consul, monsieur beauclair, who kindly received me, and having told him all the manner, how i was greatly wronged & oppressed by the other consul; he straight sent for a jewish phisitian, his familiar oracle: where having consulted together, the next day earely we went all three, and their followers to the beglerbeg, or governour of the city: we soone complained, and were as soone heard: the venetian consul is sent for, and he commeth: where facing the judge and [a favourable turkish judgement.] pleading both our best, (for there are no lawyers in turky every man speaking for him selfe) the bassaw with his counsell upon sight of the keyes of their clogbags in my hands, and my narration thereupon (and notwithstanding favouring the factor) immediatly determined that i should have the two part of their moneyes, with all their jerusalem relicts, and turkish cloathes, and the venetian to have the former third part. it is done, and irrevocable, upon which the jewish doctor, and i, with two janizaries came to mine adversaries house; where i giving the jew the keyes, the clogbags were opened, and the money being told, it came just to . chickens of gold, besides certaine rings & tablets: the jew delivered me my part, which came to . chickens, the rest went to the inconscionable consul, with the halfe of the rings & tablets: and packing up all the relicts, moneyes, clothes, and clogbags, i hired a mule, and brought them along with me to the french factors house. where, when come, monsieur beauclair, and my fellow pilgrimes, were very glad that i had sped so well, none of us all knowing what was in the clogbags till they were sighted; & giving hearty thanks to the consul, and ten peeces of gold to the jew and janizaries, i sup'd, and reposed till the morrow, thanking god of my good fortune: yet was i exceeding sorrowfull for the losse of these gallant gentle-men, religiously disposed, and so affable, that for familiarity and kindnesse, they were the mirrours of noble mindes, and vertuous spectacles of humanity; whose deaths were to mee a hell, and whose lives had beene my paradice on earth. to whose memory and prayse, i am not able to congratulate the least commendation, their heroicke dispositions, deserved at my hands. but what shall i say, their time was come, which mortality might sorrow, but sorrow might not prevent death, whose power is deafe to all humane lamentations. neyther will i relye so much upon my owne worthinesse, as to thinke that benefite of the procrastination of my [gods provident mercies.] life, was by any merite of mine deserved, but that god so much the more, might show his incomprehensible goodnesse in delivering me, from the violence of such unexpected accidents, and to tye my soule to be thankfull for his mercies. for all the beginnings of man are derived from god, whose ends are eyther perfited, or disanulled by his determination: and nothing we possesse is properly our owne, or gotten by our owne power, but given us onely through his goodnesse and munificence. and all the spaces of earth which our feet tread over, the light we enjoy, and the excellent faculties wee are indued withall; or what we can do, say, or thinke, is onely raised, guided, and distributed, by gods impenetrable counsell, will, and providence: which although the pride of our wicked nature doth not yeeld the true attribution thereunto; yet the powerfull working of the counsell of god is such, that in it selfe, it proveth an eternall wisdome, and confoundeth the foolishnesse of the world. [the great city of grand cayre.] this incorporate world of grand cairo, is the most admirable and greatest city, seene upon the earth, being thrice as large of bounds as constantinople, and likewise so populous, but not so well builded, being situate in a pleasant plaine, and in the heart of �gypt, kissing nylus at some parts. the city is divided in five townes, first and formost, cairo novo, the new caire, which is the principall & chiefest place of all the other, lying in midst of the rest, having walles and ports, the circuit whereof is . miles, contayning al the chiefe merchandise and market places within it. the second is cairo vecchio, the old caire, called formerly cairo de babylonia or babylon �gyptiorum: for there were two babylons, one in assiria called now by the turkes bagdat, and the other is this that joyneth with the new caire: it was also aunciently called memphis, and was the furthest place that ulysses in his travels visited, so well memorized by homer: yet a voyage of no such estimation, as that princely poet accounted it; for his travels were not answerable, to the fifteene part of mine. the third towne is medin, joyning to the backe side of the old caire, toward the piramides: the fourth is boulak, running a great length downe along and neare the river side, having three market places of no small account: the fift and last, is the great towne of caraffar, bending southward, in the way of the red sea for many miles: all which are but as suburbs to the new caire, that of many smalles make up a countrey, rather then a city: and yet all of them are contiguat one with another, either to the left or right hand, or to them both, with innumerable streets: [the length of great cayre and the bounds thereof.] the length whereof in all, from the lowest end of boulak, to the south-most part of caraffar is by my deepe experience twenty eight english miles, and fourteene in breadth; for tryall whereof i troad it one day on foote from sun to sunne, being guided and guarded with a riding janizarie, which for my bruised feete on the streets, was one of the sorest dayes journey that ever i had in my life. the principall gates of new caire are babell mamstek looking toward the wildernesse and the red sea: bebzavillah toward nylus, and babell eutuch toward the fields: the streets are narrow, being all of them almost covered to save them from the parching heate with open vents for light; and their buildings commonly are two stories high, composed either of mudde or bricke, and platforme on the tops; whereon usually in the night they use to sleepe to imbrace the fresh & cooling ayre. their bazar or exchange, beginneth at the gate of mamsteck, and endeth at a place called babeso. at the corners of chiefe streets or market places, there are divers horses standing ready sadled and bridled, that for a small matter, or according to the way, a man may hire and ride so where he will, either to negotiat, or to view this spacious spred city, and change as many horses as he listeth, having the maisters which owe them to convoy them for lesse or longer way, which is a great ease to weary passengers. there is a great commerce here with exceeding many nations, for by their concurring hither, it is wonderfully peopled with infinite numbers: for the countrey aboundeth in silkes, cornes, fruits, waxe, honey, and the soveraigne balsamo good for all sores, besides many other commodities of cotten-wooll, rich stuffes of cloth of gold and silver, and the best sattins, damas, taffaties, and grograines that are made in the world are here. the infinite populositie of which place, and the extreame heate, is the cause why the pest is evermore in the city: insomuch, that at some certaine times, ten thousand persons have dyed in one day: nay, the city is reputed to be in good health, if there dye but one, or two thousand in a day, or three hundred thousand in a whole yeare, i meane, when the soare encroaching pestilence, which every third yeare useth to visite them, is rife here. [divers nations residing in cayre.] in this towne a traveller may ever happily finde all these sorts of christianes, italians, french, greekes, chelfaines, georgians, �thiopians, jacobines, syrians, armenians, nicolaitans, abassines, cypriots, slavonians, captivat maltezes, sicilians, albaneses, and high hungarians, ragusans, and their owne �gyptian copties; the number of which is thought to be beyond two hundred thousand people: besides the infinite number of infidels, whose sorts are these, turkes, tawny moores, white moores, blacke moores, or nigroes, musilmans, tartars, persians, indians, sabuncks, berdoanes, jewes, arabians, barbares, and tingitanian sarazens. all which are mahometans, and idolatrous pagans. from the great palatiat mansion, where the begler-beg, or vicegerent hath his residence, being builded on a moderate height; a man may have the full prospect of the better part of the towne, the gardens and villages bordering on nylus, and a great part of the lower plaines of �gypt. their lawes heere and heathnish religion, are turkish and mahometanicall, and the customes and manners of the people, are like unto their birth and breeding, beastly and barbarous; being great sodomites, and diabolically given to all sorts of abhominations. the better sort of women here, and all the kingdom [the egyptian decorements.] over, weare rings of gold or silver, through the hollow of their noses, both endes of their mouthes, and in their under lips; hanging rich pearles, and precious stones to them; wearing also about their armes faire bracelets, and about their ancles below, broad bonds of gold or silver. to which if the baser sort can not attayne unto, then they counterfeit their betters, with rings, bracelets, and bonds of brasse, copper, lead, and white iron, and thinke themselves not worthy to live, unlesse they weare these badges. they also use here, as commonly they do through all turkey, the women to pisse standing, and the men to coure low on their knees, doing the like. they weare here linnen breeches and leather bootes as the men do, and if it were not for their covered faces, and longer gownes, wee would hardly know the one from the other. [the egyptian christians.] as for the religion of the copties or �gyptian christians, they are circumcised, after the judaicall manner, but not after the eight day, but the eight yeare. and it is thought, they follow the religion of eutyches, holding but one nature in christ: which was defended by dioscorus and the counsell of ephesus, in regard of eutyches. but the copties them selves say, they have their religion from prester jehan, and so it is most manifest, being no difference betweene the one and the other. they make frequently at all meetings the signe of the crosse to other, thwarting their two foremost fingers, lay them on their brow, and then on their breasts, and kissing them, the salutation is done. [the copties religion.] they will not suffer no images, nor pictures to be in their churches, and yet they have an altar, and a kinde of masse, sayd in their owne language, sacrificing the ostia, for the reall body and blood of christ: yet they deny purgatory, the invocation of saints, and prayers for the dead, &c. neverthelesse auricular confession is commonly used among them: so do the greekes in all these poynts the like, and all the people orientall. the inhabitants here, were the first inventors of the mathematicall sciences, of letters, and of the use of writing: great magicians and astrologians, and are yet [the nature of the egyptian moores.] indued with a speciall dexterity of wit; but somewhat sloathfull, and given to ryot and luxury: merry also, great singers, and sociable companions; and no wonder, the land being so plentifull, and their nature libidinous, it increaseth both their insolence, and inordinate affections. neyther doe they live long, in regard of the great heate they indure. �gypt being placed betweene the two tropickes, under the torrid zone, bringeth to passe, that seldome will any there attayne to threescore yeares of age. in all this land of �gypt, which is a great kingdome, there is no running well or fountayne, save onely the river nylus: neyther do the inhabitants scarcely know what raine is, because they seldome see any, and if by rare accident, a cloud happen to dissolve upon them, it bringeth to their bodies innumerable soares and diseases. and yet for abundance of cornes, and all kind of fruites the earth yeeldeth, there is no country can brag with �gypt; whereupon it was called in the time of the romanes, as well as sicilia, horreum populi romani. and notwithstanding this kingdome produceth no wines, neyther is garnished with vineyards, but that which strangers make use of are brought from candy, cyprus, and greece. the defect being thus, these mahometanicall moores observing strictly the law of their alcoran, wil neyther plant wines, nor suffer any to be planted, accounting it a deadly sin to drinke wine, but for coffa, and sherpet, composed liquors, they drinke enough of. [the garden of balsamo.] as for their balsamo, the garden wherein it groweth, lyeth neere to the south-side of cayre, and inclosed with a high wall, being sixe miles in compasse, and daily guarded by turkes. to which when i came, being conducted with a janizary, they would not suffer me to enter, neyther any christian, & far lesse the jewes: for not long ago, they were the cause, that almost this balme was brought to confusion; they having the custody of it for certayne yeares. the tree it selfe is but of three foote height, which keepeth evermore the colour greene, having a broad three poynted leafe, which being thrice in the yeare incised in the body and branches; it yeeldeth a red water that droppeth downe in earthen vessels, which is the naturall balsamo. and not far from this garden, in a sandy desart, is the place called mommeis, which are innumerable caves cut foorth of a rocke, whereunto the corpes of the most men in cayro, are carried and interred. which dead bodies remayne alwayes unputrified, neyther yeeld they a stinking smell: whereof experiments are plentiful at this day, by the whole bodies, hands, or other parts, which by merchants are now brought from thence, and doth make the mummia which apothecaries use: the colour being very blacke, and the flesh clung unto the bones. now having viewed, and review'd this microcosmus of the greater world, the foure french pilgrimes and i, did [the pyramides of egypt.] hire a janizary to conduct us to the great pyramides, surnamed the worlds wonders; which are distant from cayre about foure leagues, standing beside or neare to the bankes of nylus: where, when come, i beheld their proportion to bee quadrangled, growing smaller and smaller to the toppe, and builded with huge and large stones, the most part whereof, are five foote broade, or there abouts, and nine in length, beeing of pure marble. all the historians that ever wrot of these wonders, have not so amply recited their admirable greatnesse, as the experience of the beholder, may testifie their excessive greatnesse and height. the first and east-most we approached unto, is highest, and by our dragomans skilfull report, amounted to eleven hundred and twenty sixe foote. the basis, or bottome whereof, being twelve hundred paces in circuite, allowing every square of the foure faces three hundred paces, and every pace two foote and a halfe. every pyramide, having outwardly to ascend upon (though now for the most part demolished) three hundred foure score and nine steps or degrees; each degree being three foote high, and two foote and a halfe broad. by which computation, they amount in height to the afore-sayde relation, allowing to every foote, twelve inches. at last having ascended upon the south side of this greatest pyramide to the top, and that with great difficulty, because of the broken degrees here and there: i was much ravished, to see such a large foure squared plat-forme, all of one intyre stone, which covered the head; each square extending to seaventeene foote of my measure. it is yet a great marvaile to me, by what engine, they could bring it up so safe to such a hight: but as i conceive it, they behoved certaynely still to rayse it, and take it with them, as they advanced the worke, otherwise the wit nor power of man, could never have done it. truely the more i beheld this strange worke, the more i was stricken in admiration: for before wee ascended, or came neare to this pyramide, the toppe of it seemed as sharpe as a poynted dyamond; but when we were mounted thereon, we found it so large, that in my opinion, it would have contayned a hundred men. [the greatest piramide of the three.] in the bottome whereof we found a great cell, and within that through a straight and narrow passage, a foure angled roome; wherein there was standing the relickes of a huge and auncient toombe, where belike hee that was the first founder of this pyramide was inclosed. from the top of this pyramide, our jannizary did shoote an arrow in the ayre with all his force, thinking thereby it should have fallen to the ground; but as we discended downe-wards, we found the arrow lying uppon the steps, scarse halfe way to the ground: from this, wee came to the middle pyramide, which a far off looked somewhat higher then the other two, but when we came to the roote thereof, wee found it not so, for the stone-worke is a great deale lower, but the advancement of the height, is onely because of a high ground whereon it standeth. it is of the same fashion of the first, but hath no degrees to ascend upon, neyther hath the third pyramide any at all; being by antiquity of time, all worne and demolished, yet an admirable worke, to behold such masses, and (as it were) erected mountaines all of fine marble. the reason why they were first founded, is by many ancient authors so diversly conjectured, that i will not meddle therewith. they were first called pharaones. yet the first and greatest is said to have beene builded by cheops, who in this worke imployed . men, [the charges of the greatest pyramide.] the space of twenty yeares: in which time, the charges of garlick, rootes, and onions onely, came to . talents of silver; the basis whereof in circuit, was sixty acres of ground. it is recorded by josephus, and conjectured by many good witnesses, that the bricks which the children of israel were inforced to make, were partly imployed about the insides of these piramides, whose outsides were adorned with marble; neither can i forget the drift of that effeminate cheops, who in end wanting money did prostitute his daughter to all commers, by which detestable meanes he finished his building, and shee besides the money due unto her unnaturall father, desired for her selfe of every man that had the use of her body one stone, of whom she got so many, that with them she builded the second piramide, almost equall to the first. besides these three huge ones, there are a number of smaller, whereof some were transported to rome in the time of her supreame domination. betweene the biggest pyramide, and nylus, i saw a colosse, or head of an idoll, of a wonderfull greatnesse; being all of one marble stone, erected on a round rock: it is of height (not reckoning the columne) above . foote, and of circuite, . pliny gave it the name sphingo, and reported much more of the bignesse, largenesse, and length of it: but howsoever he erred in his description, yet i resolve my selfe, it is of so great a quantity, that the like thereof (being one intire peece) the world affoordeth not, and may be reckoned amongst the rarest wonders: some say, that aunciently it was an oracle, the which so soone as the sunne set, would give an answere to the egyptians, of any thing by them demanded. in our way as we returned, our dragoman shewed us (on the banke of nylus) where a crocodile was killed the yeare before, by the ingenious policy of a venetian merchant, being licentiated by the bassaw. the match whereof for bignesse and length, was never seene in that river, whose body was twenty two foote long, and in compasse of the shoulders, eight foote, who thus was slaine: this beast for foure yeares together kept alwaies about one place of the river, being seven miles above cayre; where for a mile of ground, there was no tillage nor pastorage, being for feare of him layd wast: and neverthelesse he had devoured above forty sixe persons: his custome was to come forth of the river every morning, about our eight houres; where here and there he would lurke waiting for his prey till ten, for longer from water he could not stay. [a resolute venetian merchant.] this venetian leaving his ship at alexandria, and comming to cayre, was informed by the consul my adversary of the great spoyle done by this beast: and herewith generously he undertooke to kill it, the vicegerent licentiating him: whereupon going to his ship, fetched thence his gunner, and a peece of ordonance to cayre. the next day in the afternoone, hee being well horsed, and accompanied with twenty janizaries, the peece is carried to the crocodiles accustomary place, of forthcomming: where straight there was an asse slaine, and hung up on two standing and a thwarting tree, with his open belly to the flood, and some twelve scorepaces therefrom: behinde this carkasse, about other twelve score, the piece was planted, and levelld at the carrion, being charged with cut iron; and a traine of powder about the touch-hole, and above it a night-house to keepe the trayne dry from the nights serene: having a cock fastned thereto, and in it a burning match, to which a string was tyed: then forty paces behinde the piece, was there a pit digged to hide the gunner; wherein he was put, holding the strings end in his hand, and his head vayled with a wooden covert. after this, and about mid-night, the horse-men retired themselves two miles off: the morning come, and the convenient time: the crocodile courts the land: where when he saw the carkasse, came grumbling to it, and setting his two foremost feet on the carrions middle, begun to make good cheare of the intrales: whereat the squink-eyed gunner perceiving his time, drew the string, [the killing of a great crocodile.] and giving fire, off went the piece, and shot the crocodile in three parts: well, he is deadly wounded, and making a horrible noyse, the gunner lay denned, and durst not stirre: meanewhile the beast striving to recover the water, tyred, and lying close on his belly there he dyed. after the shot, the horse-men drew neare, and finding the beast slaine, relieved the gunner, and brought with them this monstruous creature to cayre; where now his skinne hangeth in the consuls hall, which i saw during my stay in his house. for this piece of service, the merchant was greatly applauded, & scorned to take from the city . sultans of gold as a reward for his paines, which they freely offered him, and he as freely refused. now to discourse of nylus, this flood irriguateth all the low playnes of the land, once in the yeare, which inundation, beginneth usually in the latter end of july; and continueth to the end of august: which furnisheth with water all the inhabitants; being the onely drinke of the vulgar �gyptians; and of such vertue, that when pescennius niger saw his souldiers grumble for wine, what (sayth hee) doe you grumble for wine, having the water of nylus to drinke. and now because many schollers, and learned men, are meerely mistaken about [the true knowledge of the flowing of nylus.] the flowing of nylus, i will both show the manner and quality or cause of its inundation, and thus. there is a drye pond called machash digged neare unto the brinke of the river, in midst whereof standeth a pillar of eighteene cubites height, being equall with the profundity of the ditch, whereby they know his increasing: and in the yeare following if they shal have plenty or scarcity of things. now betweene the river and this pond, there are sixe passages or spouts digged through the banke; where when the river beginneth to swell, it immediately fals downe through the lowest passage into the pond, and being discovered there comes forth of cayre, certayne of the priests called darvishes, accompanied with a hundred janizaries, and pitch their tents round about this quadrangled pit. in all which time of the inundation, they make great feastings, rare solemnities, with dancing, singing, toucking of kettle drummes, sounding of trumpets, and other ostentations of joy. now as the water groweth in the river, and so from it debording, so it groweth also upon the pillar standing in this pond, which pillar is marked from the roote to the top, with brasses, handfuls, a foote, a span, and an inch: and so if it shall happen that the water rise but to ten brasses, it presageth the yeare following there shal be great dearth, pestilence, and famine. and if it amounteth to twelve cubites, then the sequell yeare shal be indifferent. and if it swell to fifteene brasses, then the next yeare shal be copious and abundant in all things: and if it shall happen to flow to the top, eighteen brasses, then all the country of �gypt, is in danger to be drowned and destroyed. [many schollers mistaken about nylus.] now from the body of nylus, there are above three thousand channels drawne through the playne, on which passing ditches, are all the bourges and townes builded; and through which channels the river spreads it selfe through all the kingdome: which when scoured, of filth and wormes, and the water become cleare, then every house openeth their cisterne window, and receiveth as much water, as is able to suffice them till the next inundation: neyther doth ever the river flow any where above the bankes, for if it should, it would overwhelme the whole kingdome. all which channels here or there, do make intercourse for their streames agayne, to the body and branches of nylus. now stoicall fooles hold the opinion, that it overfloweth the whole face of the land, then i pray you, what would become of their houses, their bestiall, their cornes and fruites? for the nature of violent streames, do ever deface, transplant, and destroy all that they debord upon, leaving slime, mood, and sand behind their breaches, and therefore such inunding can not be called cherishings. there are infinite venemous creatures bred in this river, as crocadiles, scorpions, water-snakes, grievous mis-shapen wormes, and other monstrous things, which oft annoy the inhabitants, and these who trafficke on the water. this famous flood is in length almost three thousand miles, and hath his beginning under the �quinoctiall line, from montes lunæ, but more truly from the zembrian lake in �thyopia interior, whence it bringeth the full growth downe into �gypt, and in a place of the exterior �thiopian alpes called catadupa: the fall and roaring of nyle, maketh the people deafe that dwell neere to it. [the reason of the flowing of nylus.] the infallible reason, why nylus increaseth so every yeare, at such a time and continuance, is onely this; that when the sunne declining northward to cancer, and warming with his vigorous face, the septentrion sides of these cynthian mountaynes, the abundant snow melteth: from whence dissolving in streames, to the lake zembria, it ingorgeth nylus so long as the matter delabiates: for benefit of which river, the great turke is inforced, to pay yearely the tribute of fifty thousand sultans of gold to prester jehan, least he impede and withdraw the course of nylus to the red sea, and so bring �gypt to desolation: the ground and policy whereof, begunne upon a desperate warre inflicted upon the �thiopians by amurath, which hee was constrayned to give over, under this pact, and for nylus sake. the river nyle had many names, for diodore named it actos, to wit, eagle, because of its swift passing over the catadupian heights: it was called too, �gyptus, of a king so named, that communicated the same to it, and to the countrey. festus, sayth it was called melos, and plutarch tearmed it mela: epiphanio called it chrysoroas, that is, running, or coulant in gold. the holy scripture tearmeth it seor or sihor, to wit, trouble, because of the great noyse it bringeth with it to �gypt; and the same holy letters call it gehou, and physon. the �gyptians wont to name it nospra; and now presently the abassines, and inhabitants of �gypt, name it abanhu, to wit, the river of a long course. [the ile of delta.] this river maketh the ile of delta in �gypt; so likewise in �thiopia, that ile of meroa so renowned. the ancient authors, could not agree, touching the mouthes of nylus; for melo, strabo, diodore, and heredotus place seaven; ptolomy, and others nine; and pliny eleaven. and some moderne authors affirme it hath onely foure, as tyrre and behou alleadge, dividing it selfe two leagues below cayre in foure branches, the chiefest two whereof, are these of damiota and roseta, but that is false, and so are the opinions of all the rest, for it hath now eight severall mouthes, and as many branches drawne from its mayne body. the water of nyle is marvailous sweete, above all others in the world, and that proceedeth of the extreame vigour of the sunne, beating continually upon, it maketh it become more lighter, purer, and simple; as likewise arrousing of so many soyles, and his long course. and truely it is admirable, to see this river to grow great, when all others grow small; and to see it diminish, when others grow great. so alwayes it is no wonder, that the nature of this river should so increase, when even here, and at home, the river of rhone, hath the like intercourse: and at the same time, through the towne of geneve, and so to the mediterranean sea: their beginnings being both alike; from the impetuosity of raynes, and dissolvings of snow. �gypt was first inhabited by misraim, the sonne of chus from whom the arabians name the land misre, in the hebrew tongue misroiæ. it was also named oceana, from oceanus the second king hereof. thirdly, osiriana from osiris; and now �gyptus from �gyptus the surname of rameses, once a king of great puissance. [the confines of egypt.] it bordereth with �thiopia, and the confines of nubia: on the south. on the north with the sea mediterrene: the chiefest ports whereof, are damieta, and alexandria, towards the occident, it joyneth with the great lake bouchiarah, and a daungerous wildernesse confining therewith, supposed to be a part of cyrene; so full of wilde and venemous beasts, which maketh the west part unaccessable: and on the east, with the istmus, and confine of desartuous arabia, and a part of the red sea, through which the people of israel passed. this country was governed by kings first, and longest of all other nations: from osiris (not reckoning his regall ancestors) in whose time abraham went downe to �gypt, he and his successours, were all called pharaoes; of whom amasis, is onely worthy mention, who instituted such politicke lawes to the auncient egyptians, that he deserveth to be catalogized, as founder or this kingdome. this race continued till cambises the second persian monarch, made �gypt a member of his empire: and so remayned till darius nothus the sixt persian king: from whom they revolted, choosing kings of themselves. but in the eighteene yeare of nectanebos the seventh king thereafter, �gypt was recovered by ochus, the eight emperour of persia. in end darius being vanquished, and alexander king hereof, after his death it fell to the share of ptolomeus, the sonne of lagi, from whom the kings of �gypt were for a long time called ptolomeis: of whom queene cleopatra was the last, after whose selfe murther, it was annexed for many yeares to the romane empire, and next to the constantinopolitan: from whose insupportable burden they revolted, and became tributaries for a small time to haumar the third caliph of babylon. afterward being oppressed by almericus king of jerusalem; noradin a turkish king of damascus sent saracon a valiant warriour to aide them, who made him [the alterations of egypt.] selfe absolute king of the whole countrey; whose ofspring succeeded (of whom saladine was one, the glorious conquerour of the east) till melechsala, who was slaine by his owne souldiers the mamaluks; who were the guard of the suldans, as the jannizaries are to the great turke, who lately, anno . have almost made the like mutation in the turkish empire, as the mamaluks did in the �gyptian. they made of themselves sultans, whereby the mamaluke race continued from the yeare . till the yeare . wherein tonembius, together with his predecessour campson gaurus, was overcome by selimus the first; by whom �gypt was made a province of the turkish empire, and so continueth as yet. the length of this kingdome, is foure hundred and fifty english miles, and two hundred broad: the principal seat whereof is the great caire, being distant from jerusalem sixteene dayes journey, or caravans journalls, amounting to . of our miles. some hold that the space of earth, that lyeth betweene the two branches of damieta, and roseta was called the lower �gypt; now called delta under the figure of a greeke letter triangular. the head of this great delta, where nylus divideth it selfe was called heptapolis, or hoptanomia; and delta it selfe was called by the romanes augustamia: �gypt besides the aforesayd names, it had divers epithites of divers authors; for appollodorus tearmed it the religion of melampodes, because of the fertility of it: and plutarch gave it the name chimia, because of the holy ceremonies of the �gyptians in worshipping their gods: the etymology whereof ortelius condignely remarked, deriving it from cham, the sonne of noah, so that some hold the opinion, that the �gyptians had their originall from misraim (for so was �gypt called) the sonne of chus, that proceeded from cham noahs sonne: the circuit of delta or the lower �gypt is thought to be . of their stades, which maketh a hundred spanish leagues. [the revenews of egypt.] in the time of the ptolomeis the revenewes of this kingdome were . talents; so also in the time of the mamaluks; but now through tyranical government, and discontinuance of trafficke through the red sea, the turke receiveth no more than three millions yearely; one of the which is free to him selfe, the other two are distributed to support the charge of his vicegerent bassaw, and presidiary souldiers, being . jannizaries, besides their thousands of timariots, which keepe �gypt from the incursions and tyranny of arabs: in cayro i stayed twelve dayes, and having bid farewell to monsieur beauclair the consul who courteously intertained me, the other foure french pilgrimes and i imbarked at boulacque in a boate: and as we went downe the river, the chiefe townes of note we saw were these, salmona, pharsone, fova, & abdan. i remember our boate was double hooked with forked pikes of iron round about the sides, for feare of the crocodiles, who usually leape up on boates, and will carry the passenger away headlong in the streame: and yet these beasts themselves are devoured by a water-rat, of whom they taking great pleasure, and play, and gaping widely, the rat running into his mouth, the other out of joy swalloweth it down, where the rat for disdaine commeth forth at the broad side of his belly leaving the crocodile dead. in these parts there is a stone called aquiline, which hath the vertue to deliver a woman from her paine in child-birth. in all this way the greatest pleasure i had, was to behold the rare beauty of certaine birds, called by the turkes, ellock; whose feathers being beautified with the diversity of rarest colours, yeeld a farre off to the beholder a delectable shew: having also this propriety, the nearer a man approacheth them, the more they loose the beauty of their feathers by reason of the feare they conceive when they see a man. upon the third day we landed at rosetta, and came over land with a company of turkes to alexandria, being . miles distant. [the towne of alexandria.] alexandria is the second port in all turky: it was of old a most renowned city, and was built by alexander the great, but now is greatly decayed, as may appeare by the huge ruines therein: it hath two havens, the one whereof is strongly fortified with two castles, which defend both it selfe and also porto vecchio: the fields about the towne are sandy, which ingender an infectious ayre, especially in the moneth of august, and is the reason why strangers fall into bloody fluxes and other heavy sicknesses. in my staying here, i was advised by a ragusan consul, to keepe my stomacke hot, to abstaine from eating of fruit, and to live soberly, with a temperate diet: the rule of which government, i strove diligently to observe, so did i also in all my travells prosecute the like course of a small diet, and was often too small against my will, by the meanes whereof (praised be god) i fell never sicke till my returne to france. this citty is mightily impoverished since the trading of spices that were brought through the red sea, to �gypt, and so over land to alexandria & its sea-port: whence the venetian dispersed them over all christendome; but are now brought home by the backe-side of affricke, by the portugals, english, and flemings, which maketh both venice, and alexandria fare the worse, for want of their former trafficke, and commerce in these southerne parts: whence venice grew the mother nurse to all europe for these commodities, but now altogether spoyled thereof, and decayed by our westerne adventures, in a longer course for these indian soyles. this citty was a place of great merchandize, and in the nycen councell was ordayned to be one of [the foure patriarchall seas.] the foure patriarchall seas; the other three are antiochia, jerusalem, and constantinople. heere in alexandria was that famous library which ptolomeus philadelphus filled with . volumes: it was he that also caused the . interpreters, to translate the bible: over against alexandria, is the little ile pharos, in the which for the commodity of saylers the aforesaid king builded a watch-towre of white marble; being of so marvellous a height, that it was accounted one of the seven wonders of the world: the other six, being the pyramides, the tombe mausolaea, which helicarnassus queene of caria caused build in honour of her husband: the temple of ephesus, the wals of babylon, the colossus of rhodes, and the statue of jupiter olympicus at elis in greece, which was made by phidias, an excellent worke-master in gold and ivory, being in height . cubites. expecting fifteene dayes heere in alexandria for passage, great was the heate the french men and i indured, in so much that in the day time, we did nought but in a low roome, besprinckle the water upon our selves, and all the night lye on the top or platforme of the house, to have the ayre; where at last bidding good-night to our greekish host, we imbarked in a slavonian shippe, belonging to ragusa; and so set our faces north for christendome; in which ship i was kindly used, and christian-like intertayned both for victuals and passage. the windes somewhat at the beginning favouring us, wee weighed anckers, and set forward to sea: leaving the coast of cyrene westward from us, which lyeth betweene �gypt by the sea side, and numidia, or kingdome of tunnis. [the fabulous countrey of syrene.] the chiefe cities therein are cyrene, arsinoa, and barca whence the whole cyrenean country taketh the modern name barca marmorica, anciently penta politana. the soyle is barren of waters and fruites, the people rude and theftuous: yet it hath bred the most ingenious spirits of calimachus the poet; aristippus the phylosopher; eratosthenes the mathematician, and symon of cyrene, whom the jewes compelled to carry our saviours crosse. in this province, which is now reckoned as a part of �gypt, stood the oracle of jupiter hammon, in the great wildernesse confining with lybia: whither when alexander travailed, he saw for foure dayes space, neither man, beast, bird, tree, nor river: where, when arrived, the flattering priests, professed him to be the sonne of jupiter: which afterward (being hurt with an arrow) hee found false, saying; omnes me vocant filium jovis, sed hæc sagitta me probat esse mortalem. west from cyrene all the kingdomes of tunnis, tremisen, algier, fesse, and a part of morocco even to gibilterre, or fretum herculeum, under a generall name now called barbary; and hardly can be distinguished by the barbarous moores. in the time of this our navigation for christendome, there dyed seaventeene of our mariners, and all our foure french pilgrimes, two of them being gray hayred, and . yeares of age, which bred no small griefe, and feare to us all, thinking that they had dyed of the plague, for it was exceeding rife in alexandria from whence wee came. the french men had onely left unspent among them all, threescore and nine chickens of gold, which the master of the ship medled with, and because they were papists, and they and i alwayes adverse to other, i could not clayme it. [foure french pilgrimes dead.] their dead corpes were cast over board, in a boundlesse grave to feed the fishes, and wee then expecting too the like mutation of life; so likewise in our passage, we were five sundry times assayled by the cursares and pyrats of tunnis and biserta; yet unprevailing, for we were well provided with good munition, and skilfull, martiall, and resolute ragusans, and a gallant ship. our ships burthen being sixe hundred tunnes, did carry twenty eight peeces of ordonance, two of them brazen; and foure score strong and strenuous saylers, besides nine merchants and passengers. the greatnesse of our ship did more terrifie the roguish runagats, then any violent defence we made: for they durst never set on us, unlesse they had beene three together; and yet we little regarded them, in respect of our long reaching ordonance, and expert gunners: in these circumstances of time, i remember, almost every day, wee would see [flying fish.] flockes of flying fishes, scudding upon the curling waves, so long as their finnes be wet, which grow from their backe, as feathred wings doe from fowles: but when they grow drye, they are forced to fall downe and wet them agayne, and then flye along. their flight will bee the length of a cables rope, untouching water; and in this their scudding, it is thought the dolphin, is in persuing them, who is their onely enemy in devouring and feeding upon them; whose bignesse and length are like to mackrels, but greater headed and shouldered. meanewhile in these our courses were we seven weekes crossed with northerly windes, ever tackling and boarding from the affricke coast, to the carminian shoare, in all which time wee saw no land, except the boysterous billowes of glassie neptune: and as ovid sayde, in the like case crossing the ionian seas, nil nisi pontus et aer, viz. nothing but waves i view, where ships do floate and dangers lye: huge whales do tumbling play; above my head, heavens star-imbroadred coate, whose vault containes, two eyes for night and day, far from the maine, or any marine coast, twixt borean blasts, and billowes we are tost. if ovid, in that strait ionean deepe was tost so hard; much more am i on seas of larger bounds; where staffe and compasse keepe their strict observance; yet in this unease of tackling boards, we so the way make short, that still our course, drawes neerer to the port. betweene the streame, and silver spangled skye, we rolling climbe, then hurling fall beneath; our way is serpent like, in meeds which lye, that bowes the grasse, but never makes no path: but fitter like yong maides, and youths together, run here and there, alwhere, and none know whether. our way we know, and yet unknowne to other, and whiles misknowne to us, before we dive; the hand, and compasse, that governe the ruther doe often erre: although the pilots strive with cart and plot; their reckonings sometimes fall, too narrow, short, too high, too wide, too small. to dascon this, remarke, when they set land, some this, some that, doe gesse, this hill, that cape; for many houres, their skill in suspence stand tearming, this fore, that headland, points the mape: which when mistooke, this forgd excuse goes cleare, o such! and such a land, it first did peere. in all which strife, stress'd saylers have the paine by drudging, pulling, hayling, standing to it in cold and raine, both dry and wet, they straine themselves to toile, none else but they must doe it: we passengers behold, with belching throats onely their taske atchievd in quivering boates. then since but ayre and water i perceive, one's hot and moyst, the other moyst and cold; it's earth that's cold and dry, i longing crave and fire that's dry and hot, i wishing would; then thundring �ole, from thy seven rigged towres, soone waft us o're, forth from these glassy bowres. my wish is come, i see each bulging sayle for pride begins to swell, betweene two sheetes; she ticklish grows, as wanton of her tayle, and layes her side, close where the weather beats; both prone and puppe, do answere so the helme, the steirsman sings, no griefe his joy can whelm. by night our watch we set, by day our sight, and thirle our sailes, if pirats but appeare; we rest resolv'd, it's force, makes cowards fight, though none more dare, then they that have most feare, it's courage makes us rash, and wisdome cold, yet wise men, stout, and stung, grow lyon bold. now we looke out for land, now we see malt! that little famous ile, though sterrile soile; where we'le some bay, or creeke seeke to assault whence ancorage, and safety ships recoile: now, now, let anchor fall we're in the road savely arriv'd, by providence of god. this done, as time avouc'hd, i kindly bad my consorts all adew, then came a shoare, where i such plenty of great favours had, that scarse the like, i ever found before. these white cross'd knights, with their eight pointed crosses, imbrac'd my sight, with it, my toiles, and tosses: so ends my verse, and so i'le straight disclose the ile, the folkes, their manners, in plaine prose. the greatest cause of our arrivall here, was in regard of our fresh water that was spent; and therefore constrayned to beare in to this ile: which was my sole desire, wishing rather to land heere, to see the order of our knights of christendome, then to arrive at ragusa in the adriaticke gulfe, where i had beene before. our [a joyfull arrival in malta.] anchors being grounded, and our boate ready to court the shoare, i bad farwell to all the company, and in a singular respect to my generous captayne, who would have nothing for my victuales and transportation from �gypt; except a few relicts of jerusalem: the boat being launched, and we landed in the haven, i accoasted a vulgar taverne, and there lodged. this city is divided in two, the old and new malta, from which the ile taketh the name; it is a large and populous place, and strongly fortified with invincible walles, and two impregnable castles st. hermes, and st. angelo; st. michael being distant from both: here the great master or prince for that yeare being a spaniard made much of me for jerusalems sake; so did also a number of these gallant knights, to whom i was greatly obliged. and withall to my great contentment, i rancountred here with a countrey gentleman of mine, being a souldier there, named william douglas, who afterward for his long and good service at sea was solemnely knighted, and made one of their order. whose fidele and manly services have beene since as plausibly regarded by the maltezes, as monsieur creichton his worth, in learning and excellent memory, rests admired in italy, but especially by the noble gonzagaes, and dependant friends of the house of mantua; for whose losse, and accidentall death, they still heavily bemone: acknowledging that the race of that princely stock, by gods judgements was cut off, because of his untimely death. [the ile of malta.] malta was called melita, mentioned acts . . . where the viper leaped on paules hand; i saw also the creeke wherein he was shipwracked: this iland may properly be termed the fort of christendome, yet a barren place, and of no great bounds, for their cornes, and wines come daily by barkes from sycilia: but it yeeldeth good store of pomegranates, cittrons, cottons, orenges, lemmons, figges, mellons, and other excellent fruits. the knights of malta had their beginning at acre in palestina; from thence to the rhodes, & now exposed to this rocky ile. they are pertinacious foes to infidels, for such is the oath of their order, continually making war and incursions against them, to their power: being strengthned also with many souldiers, and their captaines are surnamed knights of malta, and so through a great part of christendome; it is a most honourable order: they are not permitted to marry, the most part of whom being younger brothers: the reason was, because not being intangled to wife and children, they might be the more resolute to adventure their lives in the christian service; but therein they are mightily decayed, and their valour no way answerable to that it hath been when their auncestors lived in the rhodes and holy land; having had these eighteene yeares past little or no good fortune at all. this ile was given in possession to these knights of st. john, by the emperour charles the fifth, and king of spaine; being newly expelled from the rhodes by solyman the magnificent, anno . and afterward the turke not contented therewith, and mindfull all-utterly to extermine their power, came with a huge armado, and assayled malta, anno . when valetta was great [an invincible victory.] maister, who so couragiously withstood their fury, that the turkes were defeated, and forced to returne. this iland is ten leagues in length, and three broad: the earth whereof being three foote deepe, is the cause, why it is not so fertile, as the clymat might afford: it containeth besides the city, forty seven villages and nine cassales; the peasants or naturall inhabitants whereof, are of the affrican complexion, tanny, and sun-burnt; and their language semblable to the barbarian speech, without any great difference, both tongues being a corrupt arabick: and not unlike therein to the italians from the latine, or the vulgar greeke from the auncient; yet the moderne greeke is nearer the auncient, then the italian is the latine: these rurall maltezes are extreamely bent, in all their actions, either to good or evill wanting fortitude of minde, and civill discretion, they can not temper the violent humours of their passions, but as the headstrong-tide, so their dispositions runne, in the superfluous excesse of affections. they follow the romane church, though ignorant of the way, and their woemen be lovely faire, going head-covered with blacke vayles, and much inclined to [the nature of the maltezes.] licentiousnesse; their beauties being burrowed from helpe more then nature: for now it is a common practice amongst decayed beauties, banquerouted by time or accidents, to hide it from others eyes with art, and from their owne with false glasses. but (alasse) the graces and beauties of the soule ought more to be cared for, and to have the first place and honour, above these counterfeit or outward showes of the body; and the beauty and lovely proportion of the body, should be preferred before the effeminate deckings, that the body doth rather carry then enjoy: since it often hapneth; that a foule and deformed carkasse hath a faire and rich wardrope. in this towne of malta, there are many turkish and moorish slaves, very rudely treat, yet not answerable to that cruelty the slavish christianes indure upon their gallies in barbary or turky: the discription of malta, i postpone to the succeeding relations of my second travells; and after twelve daies staying here, i imbarked in a frigat with other passengers, and arrived at cicly in the south-east corner of sicilia, being three score miles distant. from thence coasting the shoare fifty miles to siracusa, i rancounterd by the way, in a clifty creeke close by the sea side, a moorish brigantine, with twelve oares on each side, charged with moores, who had secretly stayed there a night and a day stealing the people away labouring on the fields: at which sudden sight, and being hard by them, i stopped my pace. whereupon, about twenty moores broke out upon me, with shables & slings: but my life and liberty being deare to me, my long traced feete became more nimble in twelve score paces, than they could follow in eighteene; for i behoved to fly backe the same way i came: where, when freed, i hastned to the next watch-tower, marine set, and there told the centinell, how a [a moorish brigantine.] moorish brigantine was lying within two miles at an obscure clift: and how hardly i escaped their hands: whereupon he making a fire on the top of the tower, and from him all the watch-towers along, gave presently warning to the contrey; so that in a moment, them of the villages came downe on horse and foote, and well armed, and demanding me seriously of the trueth, i brought them with all possible celerity to the very place: where forthwith the horse-men broke upon them, wounding divers, before they were all taken, for some fled to the rocks, and some were in the coverd fields hunting their prey: at last they were all seazed upon, and fast tyed two, and two in iron chaines, and sixe sicilians relieved whom they had stolne and thralled: whence they were carried to syracusa, i went also along with them, where, by the way the people blessed me, and thanked god for mine escape, and me for discovering them: from syracusa (being condemned to the galleyes) upon the third day they were sent to palermo, being . in number. they gone, and i reposing here, the governour of that place, for this piece of service, and my travels sake did feast me three dayes, and at my departure would have rewarded me with gold, so also the friends of them that were relieved, which if i tooke or not judge you, that best can judge on discretion. this citty is situate on a promontore, that butteth in the sea, having but one entery, and was once the capitall seat of the kingdom, though now by old tyranies, and late alterations of time, it is onely become a private place: yet girded about with the most fragrant fields, for dainty fruites, and delicate muscatello that all europe can produce. from this place, over-tracing other fifty miles to catagna, situate at �tnaes foote; i measured the third fifty miles to messina. where now i cease to discourse any further of this iland, till my returne for affricke, being my second voyage: for true it is, double experience, deeper knowledge; where then punctually in my following order, the reader i hope shall finde his desired satisfaction. [an happy arrivall.] from messina, i imbarked in a neapolitan boat loaden with passingers; whence shoaring along for foure hundred miles, the higher and lower calabrian coast, with a part of the lavorean lists, uppon the twelfth day, we landed at naples. where being disbarked, i gave god thankes upon my flexed knees, for my safe arrivall in christendome: and meeting there with the earle of bothwell, and captayne george hepburne, i imbraced the way to rome, being sixe score and ten miles distant: where i stole one nights lodging privately, and on the morrow earely departing thence, and crossing tyber, i visited these townes in italy before i courted the alpes, siena, florence, luca, pisa, genoa, bullogna, parma, pavia, piacenza, mantua, milane, and torine: the commendation of which cities rest revolv'd in these following verses. illustrat sænas, patriæ facundia lingua, splendida solertes, nutrit florentia cives; libera luca tremit, ducibus vicina duobus: flent pisa amissum, dum contemplantur honorem: genua habet portum, mercesque domosque superbas: excellit studiis, facunda bononia cunctis, commendant parmam, lac, caseus, atque butirum, italicos versus, prefert papia latinis; non caret hospitiis, per pulchra placentia caris: mantua gaudet aquis, ortu decorata maronis, est mediolanum jucundum nobile magnum, taurinum exornant virtus, pietasque, fidesque. having passed torine, and its princely court, whose present duke might have beene the mirrour of nobility, i kept my way through piemont or pedemontano, the sister of lombardy, and second garden of europe; and crossing the steepe and snowy mountayne of mont cola [the ligurian alpes.] di tenda, the highest hill of all the alpes: i found on its top, that it reserveth alwayes a gradinian mist, for a mile of way long stakes, set in the snow, each one a speares length from another, to guide the passinger his dangerous way; of the which stoopes if hee fayle, hee is lost for ever. after i had traversed this difficult passage, i had two dayes journey in climbing and thwarting the rockey and intricated hils of liguria, over which hannibal had so much adoe, to conduct his army to italy; making a way through the snow, with fire, vineger, and wine: whence it was sayd of him, viam aut inveniet anniball, aut faciet: leaving these mountaynes behind me, i arrived at niece in provance, situate on the mediterren sea; and passing the townes of antibo and cana, to night at furges; there were three french murderers set uppon me in a theevish wood twelve miles long; one of which had dogged me hither from niece: where having extreamely given me a fearefull chase, for a long league, and not mending themselves, they gave me over. well, in the midst of the wood i found an hostery, and in it, two women, and three young children, with whom i stayed and lodged all night. [a happy escape from murder.] after i had sup'd and going to bed, in came these aforesayd villaines, accompanied with my host; where, when seene, they straight accused me for my flight, and threatning me with stroakes, consulted my death. then i cryed to my host for helpe, but hee stood dumbe, for he was their companion, and to second their intention his wife made fast the lower doore. whereat being mooved with deadly feare, i pulled my turkish gowne from my backe, and opening my sacket; sayd, now christian gentlemen, i know you are distressed, and so am i, come search my cloathes and budget, and if you find what you looke for, let me dye: alas, i am a poore stranger, newly come from jerusalem, and the sepulcher of jesus christ, and after long travailes, and loe there is my patent: and concerning my flight, i sweare, i onely fled for the safety of my life, but not for the preservation of my money, for come see i have none: my griefe is that i have it not for you: good gentlemen consider the dangers that i have past amongst infidels, and let not your christian hands rob me of my turmoyled life; having nought, wherefore you should, were a lamentable thing to do. this spoken, and much more, they never searched me, nor touched my wallet, but went to counsell, where they concluded uppon my forwardnesse in opening my body and other things to them, that i had no money, and therefore confirmed my life, which for the former respect, and the holy graves sake was granted. whereupon packing up my relickes agayne, they called for wine, and drunke diverse times to me; and after a long spent conference, there supper making ready, they dismissed me for my bed: whether, when led by my hostesse, i privily made the doore fast, suspecting still a suddaine death: well they sup'd, and were joviall, and at the first cocke, went foorth to the woode, and the high way for their owne ends. all which time i stood centinell, and the morning come, my host confessed, that onely he had saved my life; forswearing himselfe of their former sight; but sayd hee certainly they are murderers. leaving him with dissembling thankes, i arrived at furges: where i learned [a guard of horsemen for a dangerous wood.] that my host was suspected to bee a consort with these and many moe murderers: well afterwards i heard, hee was arraigned, hanged, and quartered, the house razed, and his wife put to death; and ever since the french king, keepeth a guard of horse-men there to keepe that filthy and dangerous woode free from murderers. for now may i say, like to a ship that after a long voyage, is eyther in greatest danger, or else cast away, entring the roade and haven from whence shee came; even so was i cast in the most eminent perill, that i had in all my travayles, being on the frontiers of france, and as it were, (in regard of remoter places) entering the towne wherein i was borne. having given humble thankes, and lofty prayses to the almighty for my deliverance, i traversed provance, and langadocke, where neare to montpeillier, i met with the french gentlemans father, whom i relieved from the gallies in canea of candy; who being over-joyed with my sight, kindly intreated me for eight dayes, and highly rewarded mee with spanish pistols, lamenting for my sake that his sonne was at paris: whence continuing my voyage to barselona in catelogna of spaine, i gave over my purpose in going to madrile, because of deare bedding and scarcity of victuals: and footing the nearest way through arragon and navarre, i crossed at the passage of sancto johanne, the pyrhenei mountaines: and falling downe by pau, and the river ortes, i visited gascony and bearne; and from them, the cities of burdeaux and rochel: and arriving at paris, whence i first beganne my voyage; i also there ended my first, my painefull, and pedestriall pilgrimage. whence shortly thereafter visiting englands court, i humbly presented to king james, and queene anne of ever blessed memories; and to his present majesty king charles, certayne rare gifts and notable relickes, brought from jordan and jerusalem: where afterward within a yeare, upon some distaste, i was exposed to my second peregrination as followeth. the end of the first booke, of my first travailes. the eight part, &c. contayning the second booke of my second travailes. patriam meam transire non possum, omnium una est, extra hanc nemo projici potest. non patria mihi interdicitur sed locus, in quamcunque terram venio, in meam venio, nulla exilium est sed altera patria est. patria est ubicunque bene est. si enim sapiens est peregrinatur, si stultus exulat. senec. de re, for. let not surmisers thinke, ambition led my second toyles, more flash flowne praise to wed; nay; there was reason, and the cause is knowne for courtly crosses, seldome stay unshowne: well, i am sped; through belgia then i trace; and footing rhyne, to geneve kept my pace, thence cross'd i sinais, po, and lombard bounds, the hils appenine, the �trurian rounds: and nighting rome, parthenope i past, even to rhegio, of townes calabriaes last: whence sicily i view'd, and �tna mount; and malta too, as i before was wont: then sight i tunneis, where old carthage stood, and scipio shed streames of numidian blood. hence tremizen i trac'd, the barbars shoare to algeir, great fez, the atlanticke glore; the berdoans country, and the lybian sands, the garolines parch'd bounds, the sabunck lands; and diverse soiles, of savage heathnick bounds, whose names and stiles, this affricke story sounds. last in the lybian lists, i'me forc'd to stay, whence i return'd, for tunneis the next way; and resting there, till �oles seaven rig'd towres, prest tritons backe; (crost neptunes paramours) and wish'd me saile; o then with speedy flight i boord the ship, and bad the moores good-night. true it is, that these who make distinction clearely, and the certayne knowledge of things, divide all sciences in speculative and practicke. and agayne, speculative in physicke, or phylosophy naturall, in mathematickes and metaphysicke; placing medicine under the first: arithmeticke, musicke, geometry, and astrology under the second: uniting thirdly, theology, to the which they give also to be adjoyned the right canon. as for the science practique, it doth first imbrace the morall that some divide in three, to wit, ethique, that doth forme the manners of one man, secondly in ecoenomick, that doth dispose the actions domesticke: the third in politicque, that comprehend the actions civill; concerning the government of common-wealths, which containeth under it the whole science of right civilitie. and with practique, is also placed dialectique, the art of memory, the grammar, the rhetorique, to which also may be joyned the art poetique, and of histories. but for their particular divisions i am not prolixious, as inutile to my designe in hand; divers dedicate themselves to the knowledge of these sciences, not knowing that they forget the most necessary, to wit, the science of the world. [the necessary use and honour of travels.] this is it above all things that preferreth men to honors, and the charges that make great houses and reipublicks to flourish; and render the actions and words of them who possesse it, agreeable both to great and small. this science is onely acquisted by conversation, and haunting the company of the most experimented: by divers discourses, reports, by writs, or by a lively voyce, in communicating with strangers; and in the judicious consideration of the fashion of the living one with another. and above all, and principally by travellers, and voyagers in divers regions, and remote places, whose experience confirmeth the true science thereof; and can best draw the anatomy of humane condition. for which, and other respects, it holdeth true that the heart of man is insatiable being set upon whatsoever object, his predominant affection listeth; neither may reason find place in the violent rapt of such passions, for as judgement is seldome compatible with youth, but reserved to old age; so to a unconstant disposition, every accident is a constellation, by which best thoughts are diversified, & driven from the center of deepest resolution: whiles contrariwise the sound set man, though by opportunity altereth his pace, yet still keepeth his way, serveth time for advantage, not for feare; but as the sun setteth to rise againe, so he changeth his course, to continue his purpose. wherein touching my particular, whether discontent or curiosity drove me to this second perambulation, it is best reserved [the authors apology.] to my owne knowledge: as for the opinion of others, i little care either for their sweetest temper, or their sowrest censure; for they that hunt after other mens fancies, goe rather to the market to sell than to buy, and love better to paint the bare fashion and out-sides of themselves, then to rectify or repaire their owne defects and errours; wherewith i leave them. then it is well, if it please me, it is enough; my paines are mine owne, and not others; and therefore best worthy to judge of my owne labours, being best knowne to my selfe who dearest bought them: and so to make short this preamble, or conducing complement i come to the matter it selfe. now as i began my first voyage from paris, so from london must i beginne this my second peregrination: whence leaving the court, the countrey and dover, i courted caleis, and so to graveling, dunkirke, and fatall ostend, whose devasted sight gave my muse this subject. to view the ruines of thy wasted walles, loe! i am come, bewayling thy disgrace, art thou this bourge, bellona so enstalles to be the mirrour for a martiall face: i, sure its thou, whose bloody bathing bounds, gave death to thousands, and to thousands wounds. what hostile force, besieg'd thee poore ostend? with all engine, that ever warre devised: what martiall troupes, did valiantly defend thine earthen strengths, and sconces unsurpris'd by cruell assaults, and desperate defence, thine undeserved name, wonne honour thence. some deepe interr'd, within thy bosome lye, some rot, some rent, some torne in peeces small: some warlike maim'd, some lame, some halting crye: some blowne through clouds, some brought to deadly thral, whose dire defects, renew'd with ghostly mones, may match the thebane, or the trojan groanes: base fisher towne, that fang'd thy nets before, and drencht into the deepe thy food to win: art thou become a tragicke stage, and more whence bravest wits, brave stories may begin to show the world, more then the world would crave, how all thine intrench'd ground, became one grave. thy digged ditches, turn'd a gulfe of blood, thy wals defeat, were rear'd with fatall bones: thine houses equall with the streetes they stood; thy limits come, a sepulcher of groanes: whence cannons ror'd, from fiery cracking smoake twixt two extreames thy desolation broake. thou god of war, whose thundring sounds do feare this circled space, plac'd here below the rounds, thou in oblivion hast sepulchrized here, earths dearest life, for now what else redounds but sighes and sobs, when treason, sword, and fire, have throwne al down, when al thought to aspire. forth from thy marches, and frontiers about in sanguine hew, thou dy'd the fragrant fields; the camped trenches of thy foes without were turn'd to blood, for valour never yeelds so bred ambition, honour, courage, hate, long three yeares siege, to overthrow thy state. at last from threatning terrour of despaire, thine hembd defendants, with divided walles were forcd to rander, then came mourning care of mutuall foes, for friends untimely falles: thus lost, and got, by wrong, and lawlesse right my judgement thinkes thee scarcely worth the sight: but there's the question, when my muse hath done, whether the victor, or the vanquisht wonne. to flee hence in a word, i measured all the netherlands with my feete in two moneths space; the description whereof is so amply set downe by moderne authors, that it requireth no more: onely this, for policies, industries, strong townes, and fortifications, it is the mirrour of vertue, and the garden of mars; yea, and the light of all europe, that he who hath exactly trade it, may say [weisle taken by spineola.] he hath seene the mappe of the whole universe: and now ascending to cleve, i came just to grave maurice campe at rhiese, as spineola had taken weisle; betweene which armies for five weekes i had free intercourse, being kindly respected by both the generalls: for spineola set me at his owne table, and i lay in his second tent nine nights; the duke of newenberg, and don pietro di toledo being there both for the time: so with the prince of orange, with whom i discoursed divers times, was the marques of brandeburg, certaine nobles, and forraine ambassadours. all which time, o how it grieved me to see the tyranny of the spaniards dayly executed upon the distressed protestants of weisle, over whom they domineered like divells: for these afflicted cittizens, being heavily oppressed, by their unsupportable usage, were beleagured with their friends, when they were held captive by their enemies; and obeying necessity, stayed their bodies within the walles, though their mindes were without, and intirely with the assailants. bidding adew to these armies, and accompanied with a young gentleman david bruce, the l. of clekmanan his sonne, whom i conducted to italy: scarcely had we out-stripd rhyneberg (where collonell edmond was slaine) a dutch mile, till we were both robbed of our cloaks and pocket-moneys, with five souldiers french and vallones; and that within a village, women and children beholding us, but no man to relieve us, they being with carts serving spineolaes campe. [the fabulous miracles of culloine.] whence the next day approaching culloine, and bills of change answered, wee visited the falsly supposed tombes of the three kings that came to bethleem, who as the romanists say, lye interred there. o filthy and base absurdnesse for their holy mother church to confirme hellish and erronious leyes; for these kings came from the east, and from chaldea, and not from the north: or if they wil have them to die there and so buried, surely this is even such another damnable errour, surpassing tradition, as their wandring jew, the shoomaker of jerusalem is, of whom in rome, they have wrot ten thousand fables and fopperies: from this we visited the . virgins heads, martyres, indeed we saw the church-walles all indented about with bare sculles, but whose heads they were, the lord knoweth; from thence a gentleman brought us to a chappell, within a vineyard, called the chappell of miracles; the originall whereof was thus. upon a festivall day, being vintage time, there came a peasant to the towne, and passing by the vines (as there is a number within the wals) did eate his belly full of the grapes; and thereafter hearing a masse, was confessed, and received the sacrament: and returning the same way he came, and just where he had eaten the grapes, [a forged and false miracle.] hee fell a vomiting, and casting up with what hee had eaten the holy sacrament, it straight turned in the likenesse of a new borne babe, being bright and glorious. well, the amazed fellow, run backe and told his confessour, what was done, and his offence who had eaten grapes before the reception of the eucharist. the confessour told the bishop, where he, and other prelates comming to the place, and beholding as it were an angell, grew astonished. in end they wrapped up their little dead god, in a cambricke vayle, and there buried it; building this chappel above the place: where ever since there is a world of leying miracles done: loe these are the novelties of culloine. thence ascending the rhyne, and coasting heidleberg, i saluted the princesse palatine, with certayne rare relickes of the holy land. and leaving mounsieur bruce there till my returne, i went for noorenberg to discover the sixe germanes death, whom i had buried in the desarts, and grand-cayre of �gypt, for the two barons were subject to the marquesse of hanspauch: where having met with some of their brethren, sisters, and kinsmen, and delated to them their deathes, i was presently carryed to their prince the marquesse, to whom i related the whole circumstances. whereupon a brother of the one baron, and a sister of the other, were instantly invested in their lands; and i likewise, by them all great regarded and rewarded. and after ten dayes feasting, reviewing heidleberg, mine associate and i set forward for helvetia, or switzerland. this countrey is divided in thirteene cantons, sixe whereof are protestants, and sixe papists; the odde canton being likewise halfe and halfe. the most puissant whereof is bierne, whose territory lying along the lake reacheth within a league of geneve. the people, and their service to most christian princes, are well knowne, being manly, martiall and trusty faithfull. here in the canton of bierne neere to urbs, wee went and saw a young woman, who then had neyther eate, [a woman fasting fourteene yeares.] nor drunke, nor yet excremented for thirteene yeares, being truely qualified by her parents, friends, physitians, and other visitors. she was alwayes bed-fast, and so extenuated, that her anatomised body carryed nought but sinew, skin, and bones, yet was she alwayes mindefull of god. and the yeare after this time, her body returned agayne to the naturall vigour, in appetite and all things: and married a husband, bearing two children, dyed in the fifth yeare thereafter. the day following, we entred geneve, where sighting the towne, the chiefe burgo-masters, the seven ministers, and the foure captaines were all familiarly acquainted with me, with whom in diverse places, i daily feasted and discoursed. the ministers one night propining me with a bible, newly translated in the italian tongue, by one of them selves borne in milane, told me there was a masse-priest sixe leagues off, a curate, of a village in madame du longeviles countrey, who had gotten in his owne parish, three widdowes, and their three severall daughters with childe, and all about one time: and for this his luxurious cullions was brought to dijon to be executed: desiring me to go see the manner, the next day (leaving master bruce with them) i went hither, and upon the sequell day, i saw him hanged upon a new gallowes, as high as a stripad: the three mothers and their three daughters were set before him, being gravidato, whose sorrowfull hearts, and eye-gushing teares for their sinne and shame, were lamentable to behold: the incestuous bugerono, begging still mercy and pardon for dividing their legges, and opening their wretched wombes. lo there is the chastity of the romish priests, who forsooth may not marry, and yet may mis carry themselves in all abhominations, especially in sodomy, which is their continuall pleasure and practise. returning to geneve, and acquainting the magistrates with his confession, for they are great intelligencers, i wrot this literal distich: glance, glorious geneve, gospell-guiding gem; great god governe good geneves ghostly game. [the lake of geneva, and the river rhone.] the lake of geneve is sixteene leagues in length, and two broad, at the south-west end whereof standeth the towne, through whose middle runneth the river of rhone, whose head and body beginneth from the lake among the very houses. the nature of which river is not unlike to nylus, for when all other rivers decrease (being in summer) this increaseth. two reasons proceeding from the excessive snow that lye upon the sangalian and grisonean alpes, which cannot melt, till about our longest day, that the force and face of the sunne dissolve it. and so ingorging the lake, it giveth rhone such a body, that it is the swiftest river in europe. the towne on both sides the flood, is strongly fortified with rampierd walles, and counter-banding bulwarkes; the ditch without and about being dry, is mainly pallasaded with wooden stakes, for preventing of suddain scallets. many assaults have this handfull of people suffered by land and water from the savoyean duke; the recitall whereof would plunge me in prolixity; and therefore committing that light shining syon, and her religious israelites, to the tuition of the almighty, i step over the alpes to torine. [the first beginning of the duke of savoy.] here is the residence of the dukes of savoy, whose beginning sprung first from the house of saxon: for berold or berauld, being a neere cousen to the emperour otton the third, and brother to the saxon duke; the emperour gratified him with these lands of savoy, and parts of piemont; where he and his successors continued foure hundred yeares under the title of earles: untill the emperour sigismond, at the counsell of constance, did create amee, the eight earle of his name duke. and so beginning with him to this present duke now living, named charles emanuel, there have been only eight dukes, and some of them of short lives. and yet of all the christian dukes, the most princely court is kept heere, for gallants, gentry, and knights. at the same time, of my being there, this present duke had wars with his owne brother in law philip the third, about the marquesade of montferrat, and dutchy of mantua, the issue whereof, but retorted to the duke a redoubling disadvantage; though now it be gone from the gonsagaes to the french duke of naviers. this country of piemont is a marvailous fruitfull and playne countrey, and wonderfull populous, like to the river sides of arno round about florence: insomuch that a venetian damaunding a piemont cavalier, what piemont was? replyed, it was a towne of three hundred miles in circuite, meaning of the habitations and populosity of the soyle. the rest of the surnames of the italian dukes are these, viz. that of parma is fernese, signifying partridges; that of modena is astie, that of florence de medicis; that of urbine, francesco maria, and the last duke of mantua, gonsaga; the dutchy of ferrara, being dissolved, is converted to the popes patrimony. leaving piemont, and coasting the sassinous shoare of genoaes revieroe, i ported ligorne, the great dukes sea-haven; where i left mr. bruce with a galley captaine a voluntary souldier; and inclining alone to florence by the [a comfortable crosse.] way at pestoia, i found a comfortable crosse; for i sighting the market place after supper, and carrying a french ponyard in my pocket, the head of it was espied by a badgello, captaine of the sergeants, who straight gripped me, bore me to prison, and clapd me in a dungeon robbing me of all my moneyes and poneyard; and posting that night to florence on the morrow shew the justice there a stilleto of his owne: upon which i was condemned to row in the gallies for a yeare, else to pay a hundred duckats: he stayed there three dayes, in this time was i discovered to the governour of pistoia, a noble gentleman, and being brought before him, and acquainting him with the undeserved cruelty of the badgello: nor that i never wore a stilleto, but under pretext of that had robbed mee of three-score and twelve pieces of gold: whereupon the governour perceiving the knavery of the villaine, and that he had not acquainted him with my apprehending, to whose place it belonged, he grew immatulent and forthwith sent post to his highnesse, shewing him the trueth of the businesse: whereupon the badgello was sent backe to the governour with whom i was domestickly reserved; and being accused before my face of his roguery, could not deny it: well, my gold and my poneyard is restored againe, the badgello banished the territorie of pistoia for ever, with his wife and children, and i received in compensation of my abuses, from his highnesse chamber or treasury there, fifty florentine crownes of gold, being modified by the duke him selfe; whereat i extolled the knave, that wrought his own wracke in seeking my overthrow, and brought me such a noble reward. thanking god for this joyfull crosse and approaching florence, i found one john browne there, whose company i imbraced to sicilia: whence having privatly past rome, and publickly naples, we footed along the marine by [cousenza in calabria.] salerno, and courting cousenza, the capitall seate of calabria where a vicegerent remaineth, we reposed there certaine dayes. the towne is of no quantity nor quality, in regard of the obscurenesse and solitarinesse of the countrey, the better sort of their gentry living at naples: having left the lower, and entred the higher calabria, we arrived at the bourge of allavria; and the next morning traversing close and covert mountaines, twelve miles along, in the midst of our passage we were beset with foure bandits and foure gunnes: to whom holding up my hand, and imploring for our lives, shewing them mine adventures and former travells, they unbend their fire-locks, and reading my patent of jerusalem, uncovered their heads, and did me homage, notwithstanding they were absolute murderers: our lives and liberty is granted, and for a greater assurance, they tooke us both in to a great thicket of wood, where their timberd cabine stood, and there made merry with us in good wine and the best cheare their sequestrate cottage could afford. and now because there were forty more bandits their companions among these mountaines, one of themselves for our safeguard, came along with us, and as neare castellucia as he durst; making me sweare that i should not shew the baron of that place of their privat residence, neither that i met with them at all; which i freely did, and so gave him many hearty and deserved thanks. [the liberty of bandits in calabria.] these bandits or men-slayers, will come into any free towne in the night when they please, and recovering either a church or hospitall, they stay there as they list, conducing with their friends, their wives, and their affaires; being as safe in these places as though they had not committed any criminall fact, neither may the power of justice reach to them, so long as they keepe themselves within doores. this is an auncient liberty which calabria hath ever retained, and so is through the most part of all the spanish dominions: having arrived at castellucia, the baron thereof made much of me, and wondred that i had safely past the mountaines, for said he when i go for naples, i am forced to go by sea, notwithstanding i have forty in traine. the next day in passing montecilione, the fairest and fruitfullest bounded bourg in all calabria superior; i saw a distectured house; which the people told me had beene the schoole, where dionisius the third and last tyrant of sicilia (after his flight from the kingdome and crowne) taught children privatly nine yeares, ere hee was knowne to be a king, but a poore schoolemaster. this higher calabria though mountainous, aboundeth in delicious wines, fine pastorage, and exceeding good silke: the peasants alwayes commonly here are addicted to eate onions, whence rose this proverbe, i calabrese magniano di cepoli, the calabrians feed upon onions. their women weare uncomely habits, being hooded from their browes to their backes behind, with sixe or seven sundry colours of cloth or stuffe; whose upper gownes come no further downe than their middle thighes: and their breaches and stockings being all one, and their legges halfe booted, they looke like the ghostly armenian gargosons. i remember in passing this higher countrey, i found divers cassales or terraes, (small villages) of certaine [greeke albaneses fled to calabria.] greekes called albaneses, whose predecessors had fled from albania, when the turke seased upon epyre, and this their province; and was priviledged here to stay by the spaniard philip the first: and though exiled from their naturall patrimonies, (omne solum forti patria est) yet are they exceeding kind to strangers, measuring largely their owne infranchized fortune, with the voluntary exposement of many unnecessary viadants: declining thence to the marine bourge of molino, being by land which we footed distant from naples . miles; we crossed the narrow faro, or sycilian euripus, to messina being two miles broad. where, when landed, and meeting with a young scots edenburgensen william wylie, come from palermo, and bound for venice, i fastned john browne with him to accompany his returne; and on the following day imbarked them both backe for calabria. and now having followed the italian saying si meglior a star solo come mala accompaniato; it is better for a man to be alone, then in ill company; i traversed the kingdome to trapundie seeking transportation for affricke, but could get none: and returning thence overthwart the iland, i call to memory being lodged in the bourge of saramutza, belonging to a young baron, and being bound the way of castello francko eight miles distant and appertaining to another young noble youth, i rose and marched by the breach of day; where it was my lucke halfe way from [two young barons killed at combat.] either towne, to finde both these beardlesse barons, lying dead, and new killed in the fields, and their horses standing tyed to a bush beside them; whereat being greatly moved, i approached them, and perceiving the bodies to be richly cled with silken stuffes facily conjectured what they might be: my host having told me the former night, that these two barones were at great discord, about the love of a young noble woman; and so it was, for they had fought the combat for her sake, and for their owne pride lay slaine here. for as fire is to gun powder, so is ambition to the heart of man, which if it be but touched with selfe-love, mounteth aloft, and never bendeth downeward, till it be turned into ashes. and here it proved for that ladies sake, that troppo amore turnd to presto dolore: upon which sight, to speake the trueth, i searched both their pockets, and found their two silken purses full loaden with spanish pistolls, whereat my heart sprung for joy, and taking five rings off their foure hands, i hid them and the two purses in the ground, halfe a mile beyond this place: and returning againe, leapt to one of their horses, and came galloping backe to saramutza; where calling up my host, i told him the accident; who when he saw the horse gave a shout for sorrow, and running to the castle told the lady the barons mother: where in a moment, shee, her children, and the whole towne runne all with me to the place, some cled, some naked, some on foote, and some on horse: where, when come grievous was it to behold their woefull and sad lamentations. i thus seeing them all madde and distracted of their wits with sorrow, left them without good-night: and comming to my treasure, made speedy way to castello franco, where bearing them the like newes, brought them all to the like distraction and flight of feet. well, in the mutability of time there is aye some fortune falleth by accident, whether lawfull or not, i will not question, it was now mine that was last theirs, and to save the thing that was not lost, i travailed that day thirty miles further to terra nova. whence the next morning beeing earely imbarked for malta, and there safely landed; [a london ship called the matthew.] i met with a ship of london called the mathew, bound for constantinople lying in the roade where indeede with the company i made merry a shoare for three dayes, and especially with one george clarke their burser, who striving to plant in my braines a maltezan vineyard, had almost perished his owne life. upon the fourth day, they hoysing sayle, and i staying a shoare, it was my good lucke within eight dayes to find a french ship of tolon come from the levante, and bound for tunneis by the way in going home. with whom desirously consorted, within three dayes we touched at our intended port. and now to reckon the gold that i found in the aforesayd purses, it amounted to three hundred and odde double pistols; and their rings being set with dyamonds, were valued to a hundred chickens of malta, eight shillings the peece, which i dispatched for lesser: but the gold was my best second, which like homers iliades under alexanders pillow, was my continuall vade mecum. tunneis is the capitall seate of its owne territory, and of all the east and lower barbary, containing ten thousand fire-houses: and it is the place where old carthage stood, that was builded by the tyrians and phenicians of the holy land, some three score twelve yeares before rome, and had twenty miles in circuit: which city in these times, was the soveraigne queene of affrick, and the onely envy, and predominant malice of the romanes, being more then romes rivall mate, in greatnesse, glory, and dominion: neverthelesse in end, it was taken, sackt, and burnt by scipio the affrican romane, some sixe hundred and two yeares after rome was first founded, and her ruines and large territories without, made subject to the ambition of rome. [the divers plantations of carthage.] after which detriment, desolate carthage was rebuilded by cæsar, and a collony of italians transported there, flourished for a time, till it was destroyed and overrunne by the gothes and vandales: and lastly subdued by the sarazens and moores, it was by them transmitted to the turkish power, who now is maister of it, being no way answerable to the sixe part of the greatnes it had before. this towne is situate in the bottome of a creeke, where the sea for a mile having cut the bosome of the land, maketh a large and safe resting place for ships and galleyes. which haven and towne is secured from sea invasions, by the great and strong fortresse of galetto, builded on a high promontore, that imbraceth the sea, and commandeth the mouth of the bay; wherein a turkish bassaw, and a strong garrison of souldiers remaine: the fort it selfe being well provided with armes, men, artillery and munition. the kingdome of tunneis comprehended once the whole countrey that the auncients called properly affrick or little affrick, being the old numidia, and was divided then in these five provinces, bugia, constantino, that of tunneis, tripoly, and ezzebba. in the towne of bugia, lying halfe way twixt tunneis and algeir, and . leagues from either being now called arradetz, there was auncient beautifull temples, colledges, magnifick buildings, hospitals, and convents after their fashion: but the towne being taken, and razed anno . by peter king of navarre, it hath remained ever since without beauty or ornament, save a few rusticke inhabitants. [the marine provinces twixt tunneis and algier.] the province of constantine, lyeth twixt tunneis and bugia; the towne constantine, now abirouh, being capitall, and was surnamed cortes and julia: it is begirded with rockes, and auncient walles contayning eight hundred fire-houses, wherein are the relicts of an arke triumphant, formerly built by the romanes; and in this province sixteene leagues within land, was the towne of hippo, now bosen, whereof st. augustine was bishop. the territory of tunneis, lyeth betweene the borders of abirouh westward, and the limits of tripoly eastward, being of length foure score miles: and on this sea-coast lyeth the towne biserta, adorned with a commodious haven, and sixe gallies, the most scelerate of condition, and celerious in flying or following of all the cursares in turky: tripoly in barbary, (commonly called so) was once drowned by the sea, but now its situation was transported safely a little more southward; which sometimes was beautified with merchants of genoa, ragusa, and venice, but now become a den of theeves, and sea-pirats, and so are all the marine townes, twixt �gypt and morocco. the last province of the kingdom of numidia, is ezzebba lying east from tripoly, and confining with cyreno a pendicle of �gipt: the chiefest part whereof is messaicke being twenty foure leagues from tripoly, contayning many villages, and townes on the playnes and mountaynes, abounding in silkes, cornes, and diverse fruites. all these five maritine provinces, have but narrow inlands, not advancing south-ward from the sea coast above forty miles. here in tunneis i met with our [an english pyrat captaine waird.] english captayne, generall waird, once a great pyrat, and commaunder at sea; who in despight of his denied acceptance in england, had turned turke, and built there a faire palace, beautified with rich marble and alabaster stones: with whom i found domesticke, some fifteene circumcised english runagates, whose lives and countenances were both alike, even as desperate as disdainfull. yet old waird their maister was placable, and joyned me safely with a passing land conduct to algiere; yea, and diverse times in my ten dayes staying there, i dyned and supped with him, but lay aboord in the french shippe. at last having obtayned my pasport from the bassaw there, and surety taken for my life and moneyes, i imbraced the land way with this conduct, consisting of forty moores, and a hundred camels loaden with silkes, dimmeteis, and other commodities, traversing the aforesayd regions of abirouh, and arradetz. in all which way (lying nightly in a tent) i found a pleasant and fruitfull country, abounding in wines, rye, barly, wheate, and all kinde of fruites, with innumerable villages, and so infinitely peopled, that it made me wish there had beene none at all; otherwise that they had beene christians, and so more civill. the greatest enemy this journey designed mee, was the sunne, whose exceeding heate was intollerable to indure, being in september anno . but for provision of water, wine, and victuals wee had abundance. upon the seaventh day of our course, wee entred in the [tremizen in barbary.] countrey of tremizen, formerly mauritanea cæsarea: this kingdome hath to the west mauritanea tingitana, contayning the empire of morocco and fez. on the south gotulia or desartuous numidia. on the east with the rivers of muluia and amphlaga, the marches of arradetz. and on the north the sea mediterren, opposite to sardinia. the countrey is in length from the east to the west, some twenty five of their courses, and of our miles about three hundred; and of breadth betweene the sea and gotulia, no more than thirty english miles. this copious kingdome in all things, hath beene oft and ever molested with the numidian sarazens, or bastard arabs, who falling downe from the mountaines, do runne their carriere at random upon the ground-toyled moores, to satisfie their needy and greedy desires. tremizen or telensim, had of old foure provinces, but now onely two [the towne of tremizen decayed with warres.] its owne territory, and that of algier: whose capitall towne being too cognominated tremizen, contayned once eighteene thousand fire houses. but in regard of josephus king or fez, who besieged it seaven yeares, over-mastering it and then subdued by charles the fifth, and likewise the turkes investion of it, and finally because of the long warres, twixt the seriff or king there, and the turke; it is become a great deale lesser and almost disinhabited, and the most part of that countrey subject to the authority of the bassaw of algier. at last upon the twelfth day of our leaving tunneis, having arrived at algier, and abandoning my conduct with a good respect, i stayed in a spaniards house, turned runagate, who kept a roguish taverne, and a ground planked hospitality. in all this way of twelve score miles, i payed no tribute, neyther had i any eminent perrill, the country being peaceable, though the people uncivill. [the theevish towne of algier.] this towne of algier, was formerly under subjection to the kingdome of tremizen, but because of insupportable charges it revolted, and rendered to the king of arradetz or bugia: afterwards it was under the king of spaine, from whom barbarossa did take it anno . being now under the turke, and is situate upon the pendicles of a flat devalling height, and standeth triangular. the marine side whereof is strongly fortified, with earth-back'd walles, bulwarkes, and artillery, but the semi-squared land-walles, are of small importance, and easily to be surprised; and three miles in circuite, contayning some thirty thousand persons. there is a turkish bashaw here, and a strong garrison of sixe thousand janizaries, with two hundred cursary ships or pyrats who ever preying upon christian commercers, by their continuall spoyles and prises, have made the divelish towne wonderfull rich; and become the inveterate enemy of christendome; being now a kingdome of it selfe, and in length from east to west betweene the townes terracot and guargola, some sixe score miles. it hath a long reaching mould in the sea, that maketh a safe harbor for their ships agaynst northerly windes, which on that coast are deadly dangerous. at this time, the greatest part of the towne were fled to the mountaynes to shun the parching heate that beateth violently on the plaines, and sea-shore; so doe all the maritine townes of barbary the like every sommer, for the moneths july, august, and september: which then being left halfe naked of defence, it were the onely time for christianes to invade or surprise their townes. i found here abundance of slaves, most of them spaniards, whom they dayly constraine within towne to beare all manner of burdens here and there, and without towne to drudge in the fields, amongst their vines and cornes, and other toyling labours, abusing them still with buffets and bastinadoes as their perverstnesse listeth: neither durst i leave my lodging, unlesse i had three or foure christian slaves to guide me, and guard me too from scelerate vulgars: who beare no respect to any stranger nor free franck. [a naturall sublime policy.] here i remarked a wonderfull policy in the turkish state, concerning these thiftuous and rapinous townes of barbary; who as they are ordained ever to plague and prey upon the spaniard, yet under that colour they licentiat them to make havock and seaze upon all other christiane ships, goods, and persons as they please, the french nation excepted: and so they doe notwithstanding of our several ambassadours lying at constantinople, who rather stay there as mungrells than absolute ambassadours: for why should christian princes meditate for peace and commerce with the turke, when theirs, with his subjects the barbarian moores have no safety; they being obedient to his lawes, and over-ruled by bassawes, as well as these are of asia and easterne europe: from which i gather, as from all other like examples, that there is a more sublime over-mastering policy, subtility, and provident foresight, in meere naturall men as turkes be, then in our best grandeurs, for all their sciences, & schoole studies can either perceive or perform farre less prosecute. to which avowed dangers if any small ship, ruled by rash fellowes, should adventure within the straites, as too many english doe, beeing unable and unprovided for defence; and so are taken & captivated, and afterward redeemed by contributions over the land: i justly affirme it, they deserve rather to be punished, and remayne there in punishment, then any reliefe or redemption to be wrought for them, who will nakedly hazard themselves in knowne perrils, without ordonance, munition, and a burdenable ship. but reverting to my purpose, the marine provinces which lye betweene �gypt and sewty, over agaynst [the barbarian provinces twixt egypt and gibelterre.] gibelterre being the straits, are these; cyrene, barca marmorica, ezzeba, the trypolian jurisdiction, the kingdomes of tunneis, abirouh, arradetz, tremizen, algier, and a part of fez; extending to two thousand and three hundred maritine miles: all which, by ignorant sea-men, and ruvide moores is tearmed barbary, who can not distinguish parts nor provinces, but even as the orientall turkes doe, that denominate all asia minor, under the name carmania, and know no further of their ancient nor particular titles. now as concerning their customes, it is the fashion of all these barbarian moores, in marrying of their wives, that after the bridegroome and the bride are inrolled by their totsecks or priests in the mosque before the parents of each party, and the bride presently brought home to the house of her husband, accompanied with al their friends, musicke, and revelling: he immediatly withdraweth her to a private chamber, having onely one old woman standing by them in a corner of the roome: where hee lying with the bride, and shee being found a mayde, by a certayne cloath layd under her privy place, which being by the old hagge drawne out, and found sprinkled with spots of blood shee presenteth it first to him, as a token of virginity; and then forthwith runneth through the house, among all the friends of the new married couple, crying with a loud voyce, and carrying the bloody napkin in her hand, the virgine-bride is broken up; whereat they all rejoyce, giving rewards and good cheare to the cryer: [the tryall of moorish brides.] but if the bride be not found a mayd, then he returneth her backe unto her parents which they accompt as an immortall shame, and the nuptiall feast, and all the assistants thereunto, are suddenly dismissed: but if a virgine, the banquet continueth all the first day, with great cheare, dancings, revellings, with musicall instruments of divers sorts. the second night is onely the feast of women for both parties; and the third banquet is made on the seventh day after the nuptiall, the provision of which the father of the bride sendeth to the house of his new sonne in law: where after this banquet, and the seventh day, in the next morning the bridegroome goeth then abroad from his house (which hee doth not till the aforesayd time) unto the market place, where he buyeth a number of fish to carry with him to his dwelling, as a signe of good lucke, it being an auncient custome through the most part of all the notherne affrick. the men and women at such meetings dance a part, each of them having their own musicke and orders of merriment. they have also a custome that when infants beginne to breed teeth, their parents will make a solemne feast to all the children of the towne, with divers ceremonies; which custome they reserve yet, in divers parts of italy. the women through all barbary, weare abundance of bracelets on their armes, and rings in their eares, but not through the nose and lips as the �gyptians doe; and turne also the nayles of their hands and feete to red, accounting it a base thing to see a white naile: the men here for the most part, are the best archers, and horse-men that are in affrick, and take great pleasure in breeding of their barbes: so are they both active and couragious, and very desperate in all their attempts, being all of the mahometanicall religion, though more ignorant thereof than the turkes: some whereof are subject to the turke, some to the emperour of morocco, and some to their owne barbarous princes. and now it was my fortune here in algier, after . [monsieur chatteline a french lapidator.] dayes abode, to meete with a french lapidator, monsieur chatteline borne in aise du provance, who intending to visit fez, joyned company with me, and we with certaine merchants of algier that were going hither: being in all . passengers, with two jannizaries and a dragoman. whence advancing our way, some on mules, and some on foote, with asses carrying our baggage and provision; we left the marine townes of saly and tituana, far to the west on our right hand, and facing the in-land wee marched for three dayes through a fruitfull and populous soyle: and although the peoples barbarous and disdainefull countenances were awfull, yet we two went still free of tributs, as not being a thing with them accustomary, to execute exaction on francks as the turkes and moores do in asia, neither understood they what wee were, being cled with company, and after their fashion: save onely that nature had set a fairer stamp on my face, than theirs, which oft i wished had beene as blacke as their uglines. in this misculat journeying of paine & pleasure we found every where strong wines, abundance of excellent bread, and the best, and greatest hens bred on the earth, with plenty of figges, fruits, olives, and delicious oyle, yea, and innumerable villages, the houses whereof are all builded with mudde, and platformed on their tops; and so are they in asia, and all affrick over. upon the fourth day having past the plaines, we entered in a hilly countrey, yet pastorable; where i beheld here and there clouds of tents, filled with maritine people, that were fled hither from the sea coast for the fresh and cooling ayre. and upon these pleasant and umbragious heights, i saw the fields overcled with flocks of sheepe and goats: which sheepe are wondrous great, having from their rumpes and hips, broad and thicke tayles growing, and hanging to the ground, some whereof when sold, will weigh . . or . pounds weight, and upwards. here among the mountaines, our company knowing well the countrey, tooke a great advantage of the way, and on the seventh day in the morning, [mine arrival at fez.] wee arrived at the great towne of fez: where the french man and i were conducted by some of our company to a great moorish inne or taverne: & there received, we were as kindly & respectively used, as ever i was in any part of the turks dominions, being now out of them, & in the empire of morocco. this city of fez is situate upon the bodies and twice double devalling faces of two hills, like to grenada in andelosia in spaine; the intervale, or low valley betweene both (through which the torride river of marraheba runneth southward) being the center and chiefest place, is the most beautifull and populous part of the city; the situation of which, and of the whole, is just set under the tropick of cancer. over which river, and in this bottome, there are three score and seaven bridges of stone and timber, each of them being a passage for open streetes on both sides. the intervayle consisteth of two miles in length, and halfe a mile broad; wherein, besides five chereaffs or market places, there are great palaces, magnificke mosquees, [great colledges and hospitalls.] colledges, hospitals, and a hundred palatiat tavernes, the worst whereof, may lodge a monarchicke trayne: most part of all which buildings, are three and foure stories high, adorned with large and open windowes, long galleries, spacious chambers, and flat tectures or square platformes. the streetes being covered above, twixt these plaine-set fabrickes, have large lights cut through the tectur'd tops every where; in whose lower shoppes or roomes are infinite merchandize, and ware of all sorts to bee sold. the people of both kindes are cloathed in long breeches and bare ancles, with red or yellow shooes shod with iron on the heeles, and on the toes with white horne; and weare on their bodies long robes of linning or dimmety, and silken wast-coates of diverse colours: the behaviour of the vulgars being far more civill toward strangers then at constantinople; or else where in all turkey. the women here go unmasked abroad, wearing on their heads, broad, and round capes, made of straw or small reedes, to shade their faces from the sunne; and damnable libidinous, beeing prepared both wayes to satisfie the lust of their luxurious villaines; neyther are they so strictly kept as the turkish women, marching where they please. there are some twelve thousand allowed brothell-houses in this towne, the courtezans being neatly kept, and weekely well looked to by physitians; but worst of all, in the summer time, they openly lycentiat three thousand common stewes of sodomiticall boyes: nay i have seene at mid-day, in the very market places, the moores buggering these filthy carrions, and without shame or punishment go freely away. there are severall seates of justice heere (though none to vindicate beastlinesse) occupied by cadeis and sanzackes, which twice a weeke heare all differences and complaints: their chiefe seriff, or vicegerent, being sent from morocco, is returned hither agayne every third yeare. [the beauty and greatnes of fez.] the two hills on both sides the planur'd citty, east, and west, are over-cled with streetes and houses of two stories high, beeing beautified also with delicate gardens, and on their extreame devalling parts, with numbers of mosquees and watch-towers: on which heights, and round about the towne, there stand some three hundred wind-mils; most part whereof pertayne to the mosques, and the two magnifick colledges erected for education of children, in the mahometanicall law. one of which accademies, cost the king habahennor in building of it, foure hundred and three score thousand duckets. jacob sonne to abdulach the first king of the families of meennons, divided fez in three parts, and with three severall walles, though now invironed with onely one, and that broken downe in sundry parts. the chiefest mosque in it, is called mammo-currarad, signifying the glory of mahomet, being an italian mile in compasse, and beautified with seventeene high ground steeples, besides turrets and towers: having thirty foure entring doores; beeing supported within, and by the [the modell of the great city of fez.] length, with forty eight pillars, and some twenty three ranges of pillars in breadth, besides many iles, quires, and circulary rotundoes: every pillar having a lampe of oyle burning thereat; where there, and through the whole mosque, there are every night nine hundred lamps lighted; and to maintaine them, and a hundred totsecks and preaching talsumans, the rent of it extendeth to two hundred duccats a day: neverthelesse there are in the city besides it, more then foure hundred and threescore [the magnifick mosque of fez.] mosquees; fifty whereof are well benefited and superbiously decored within and without, with glorious and extraordinary workmanship, whose rooffes within are all mosaick worke, and curiously indented with gold, and the walles and pillars being of grey marble, interlarded with white alabaster, and so is the chiefe mosque too in which monsieur chatteline and i had three sundry recourses accompanied with our moorish hoste, who from their priests had procured that licence for us. this city aboundeth in all manner of provision fit for man or beast, & is the goodliest place of all north affrick, contayning a hundred and twenty thousand fire-houses, and in them a million of soules: truely this is a world for a city, and may rather second grand caire, than subjoyne it selfe to constantinople, being farre superior in greatnesse with aleppo: for these are the foure greatest cities, that ever i saw in the world, either at home or abroad. the cittizens here are very modest and zealous at their divine services, but great dauncers and revellers on their solemne festivall dayes, wherein they have bull-beating, maskerats, singing of rimes, and processions of priests. the moores in times past of fez and morocco, had divers excellent personages, well learned, and very civill; for amongst the kings mahometan one can not praise too much the kings almansor, maunon, and hucceph, being most excellent men in their superstition. in whose times flourished the most famous medicines, and philosophers that were among the pagans, as a vicenne, rasis, albumazar, averroes, &c. with other great numbers maintained by the kings of morocco, that then were masters of all barbary and spaine: as in spaine may be seene yet, (though now fallen in decay) a great number of their colledges, shewing they were great lovers of their religion and doctrine, and are so to this day, save onely in their drinking of wine forbidden by their alcoran. they were great devisers too of gallant sportings, exercises, turnaments, and bull-beating, which spayne retaineth to this time; yea, and the romanes did learne, and follow many of them. here in fez there be a great number of poets, that make songs on divers subjects, especially of love, and lovers, whom they openly name in their rimes, without [poets among barbarians in great request.] rebuke or shame: all which poets once every yeare, agane mahomets birth-day, make rimes to his praise; meanewhile in the after noone of that festivall day, the whole poets assembling in the market place, there is a dasked chayre prepared for them, whereon they mount one after another to recite their verses in audience of all the people; and who by them is judged to be best, is esteemed all that yeare above the rest, having this epithite the prince of poets, and is by the vicegerent and towne rewarded; but in the time of the maennon kings, the prince on that day in his owne pallace did conveine the whole cittizens, in whose presence he made a solemne feast to all the best poets; causing every one of them to recite the praise of mahomet before his face, standing on a high scaffold: and to him that was thought to excell the rest, the king gave him . sultans of gold, an horse, a woman slave, & the long robe that was about him for the time: and to each one of the rest he caused give fifty sultans, so that every one should have some recompense for their paines: indeed a worthy observance; and would to god it were now the custome of our europian princes to doe the like, and especially of this ile, then would bravest wits, and quickest braines, studdy and strive to show the exquisit ingeniosity of their best styles, and pregnant invention, which now is ecclipsed, and smotherd downe, because now a dayes, there is neither regard nor reward for such excellent pen-men. fez was aunciently named sylda, whose kingdome hath atlas to the south, the river of burdraga to the east, and tremizen: morocco to the west: and the confynes of guargula, and a part of the sea to the north: having spent in fez . dayes, in all which time, we daily conversed with some christian abasines, [heragens or ethiopian negroes.] heragenes, or �thiopian nigroes, some whereof were merchands, and some religious; and monsieur chattelines businesse not effected, seeking diamonds and precious stones to buy; was seriously advised by them, to goe for arracon, a great towne on the frontiers of the northerne �thiopia: where he would finde abundance of such at an easie rate, giving him a perfit direction for his passage hither being . daies journey: he concluded with their counsell his resolution, and perswading me to the same intention, i yeeld, being over-mastred with the greedy desire of more sights. meanewhile for our conduct, we hire a dragoman moore that spoke italiens to be our interpreter, and with him a tent, and two moorish drudges to guide, guard, & serve us by the way of fifty eight sultans for gold, eighteene pounds foure shillings english: having sixe of their kinsmen fast bound to a sanzak or justice, for our lives, liberties, and moneyes. hereupon having provided our selves, with all necessary things, and a mule to carry our victuals, water and baggage, we discharged our conscionable hostage, at twenty aspers a day the man, being thirty foure shillings to each of us; and were brought on our way, by the aforesayd christian heragenes some foure leagues. where having left them with dutifull thankes, wee set forward in our journey, and for seaven dayes together wee were not violently molested by any thing, save intollerable heate, finding tented people and scattered villages all the way. the eight day, the way being fastidious and rockey, [chatteline the french lapidator taken sicke.] and chatteline on foot, he succumb'd, and could not subsist, not beeing used to pedestriall travayle; and for our better speed and his reliefe, wee mounted him aloft on the top of our baggage. at last arriving at ahetzo (where we reposed) being the furthest and south-most towne of the kingdome of fez, composed of a thousand fire-houses, well fortified with walles, and a garrison of moores in it, subject to the emperour of morocco: the french-man long or day, fell sicke of a burning feaver: whereuppon wee stayed five dayes expecting his health, which growing worse and worse, and hee mindfull to returne, which i would not: i left him in safe custody, and one of our drudges to attend him till fez. and bearing the charges of the other two, according to the former condition: i set forward for my purpose, which ere long turned to sad repentance. leaving ahetzo behind us, and entring the countrey of the agaroes, we found the best inhabitants halfe cled, the vulgars naked, the countrey voyd of villages, rivers, or cultivage: but the soyle rich in bestiall, abounding in sheep, goates, camels, dromidores, and passing good horses: having an emeere of their owne, being subject to none, but to his owne passions, and them to the disposition of his scelerate nature; yet hee, and they had a bastard show of mahometanicall religion: their bestiall are watered with sources, and the pastorable fields, with the nightly serene, and themselves with the watrish concavity of the earth. in our sixe dayes toyle, traversing this countrey, we had many troubles and snarlings from these savages, who sometimes over-laboured us with bastinadoes, and were still inquirous what i was, and whether i went; yea, and enough for the dragoman to save my life and liberty. having past the perverstnesse of this calamity, upon the seaventh day, wee rancountred with another soyle, [the tribe of the hagans or jamnites.] and worser tribe of the hagans or jamnites, most part whereof were white moores, a people more uglye then the nigroes, yet some of the better sort had their members covered, but of condition farre more wicked then the former. they are ruled by a seriff, whose guard is composed of women, and young balars, pages; seeming rather to live without religion, then acknowledging any kinde of deity. here my dragoman, doubting of his passage, and the difficilnesse of the countrey, which arose from his ignorantnesse thereof, was inforced to hyre a hagan guide, to bring us to the province of abadud, bordering with �thiopia. but by your leave, our guide having led us for five dayes together south-eastward, and almost contrary to our purpose: in the sixt night of our repose, he stole away, eyther for feare or falshood, mistaking our journey, or deceiving us for despight, the halfe of his wages being payed him before. well, the villaine gone, and my dragoman the next day continuing our faces, in the same arte, wee were long or night involved in a dis-inhabited country, being desartuous and dangerous for wilde beasts, and full of mountaynes. pitching our tent neare to a rocke, we burnt all that night shrubs of tara, to affright the beasts of all kinds, and so did we every night of that wofull wandring, which flaming light their nature cannot abide. day come, and our comfort yet fresh, we sought further in, thinking to finde people and tents to relieve us with victuales, and informe us of the countrey, but we found none, neither seven daies thereafter. the matter growing hard, and our victuals and water done, we were forced to relye upon tobacco, and to drinke our owne wayning pisse, for the time aforesayd. the soyle we daily traced, was covered with hard and soft sands, and them full of serpents, being interlarded with rockey heights, faced with caves and dens: the very habitacle of wilde beasts, whose hollow cryes, as we heard in the night, so we too often sighted their bodies in the [the wilde beasts of the libian desarts.] day, especially jackals, beares, and boares, and sometimes cymbers, tygers, and leopards, agaynst whom in the day time if they approached us, we eyther shot off a harquebuse, or else flashed some powder in the ayre; the smell whereof, no ravenous beast can abide. this vast wildernesse is a part of the berdoans countrey, one of the foure tribes of the olde lybians, the sabuncks, the carmines, and the southerne garolines, being the other three. and now to helpe the expression of my grievous distresse and miseries, my muse must lament the rest. ah! sightlesse desarts! fil'd with barren sands! and parched plaines; where huge and hilly lands have stone-fac'd scurrile bounds: o monstrous feare! what destiny, drove my cross'd fortune here? by day i'me scoarch'd with heate, by night the grounds are cled with beasts; whose rage sends horrid sounds of dreadfull death: whence we to shunne their ire, are forc'd to fright them, with bright tara fire: for if it were not, that they scarr'd at light, no man could walke, or rest, safe in the night. then next and nigh, the crawling serpents lurke still under foote, some stung-swolne smart to worke; which moove the sands like seas, in seeking shade, where 'mongst their linking roles, i'me forc'd to wade: whose neckes like legs are round, their bodies strong, with blacke-spred backes, their length full two yards long: yet whilst i cut, and crush their warbling wombe, i point their death, their skin, i make their tombe. but worst i'me hungerbit, and starving slaine with pinching want, a sore-sunke gnawing paine: o helplesse torture! second'd with great drouth and fiery thirst, that scabbe my lips and mouth: where for fine lyquor, as my heart would wish, stress'd wandring i, am forc'd to drinke my pisse: so turnes my food to smoake, the smoake to ashes which twice a night, we three do spend in flashes: last casts my face the skin, my skin the colour, and spewing forth fled joyes, i drinke in dolour. thus with the torrid zone, am i opprest, and lock'd twixt tropickes two, which me invest. where for reliefe, i pierc'd the heavens with cryes, and cut the clouds, to grieve the azure skies with sighs and grones; yet carefull to regard my curious drifts, had got their just reward. but to shorten my discourse, of barren wildernesses, supposed to be a part of the lybian desarts, my dragoman upon the fourth day of our seaven being there, falling in despaire, and wondring to see me indure such heate, such hunger, and such toyle, did threaten mee with death, to make me seeke backe for our nearest refuge: whereupon holding our course north-east, my compasse-dyall being our guide, we rancountred earely on the eight day, with nine hundred savages, naked lybian sabunks: five hundred whereof, were women armed with bowes and arrowes; who with their complices, the former night had put to the sword, three hundred berdoanes, their neighbour tribe: carrying away above sixe thousand sheepe and goats besides other bestiall: from whom after our sight of their emeere or prince, we had first liberty of life, and then reliefe of food; for he came up in the reare, with a hundred horse-men charged with halfe pikes, headed at [the prince of the sabuncks apparrell.] both ends with sharpe steele: the person of their prince was onely clothed from his breasts downe to his middle thigh with a crimson vayle of silke, hanging on his naked shoulders with coloured ribans, and on his head a party coloured shash set like a garland: both his knees were bare, so were his ancles, the calves of his legges being girded with crimson silke, and on his feet yellow shooes; his beard was like his face, burnt with the sun, and his age like to my owne, of . yeares, his religion is damnable, so is his life, for hee and all the foure tribes of lybia worship onely for their god, garlick, having altars, priests, and superstitious rites annexed to it: thinking garlicke, being strong of it selfe, and the most part of their food, to have a soveraigne vertue in a herball deity. all his courtiers were starke naked saving his page, who was even covered like to the king his master. and now having dismissed his army for the way, and falling in a houres parley with us at his departure, he propyned me with his bowe, & a quiver of arrowes, which afterward, i presented to his majesty, then prince. there is a merry secret heere concerning the women, which often i recited to king james of blessed memory, showing him also three certificates of this my desartuous wandring: one of which was confirmed by english waird at tunneis upon the dragomans report; though now they with all my other patents are lost, in the inquisition of malaga. this former savage prince sent a guide with us for foure dayes journey, the condition of his mans wages being made by himselfe, and franckly advised us that tunneis was our best and nearest recourse. which being forcibly considered, i was constrayned to renew my bargaine agayne with the dragoman, at the rate of forty five sultans of gold, to bring me safely hither. this sabunck guide, to whom i gave five sultans, thirty five shillings, brought us through the most habitable vallies, and best cled passages of the countrey with tents: where every day once we found water, bread, garlicke and onions, and sometimes hennes at twenty aspers the peece, two shillings; which we would rost, or scorch dry (if trueth may have credite) at the very face of the sunne, and so eate them. upon the fift day, our guide leaving us in the after-noone, well setled among foure hundred tents of numidian moores, or bastard arabians, pitched in a pleasant valley, betweene two sources of water, wee stayed still there reposing our selves, and refreshing our bodies with victuals, some nine dayes. [moorish smiths forging horse-shooes out of cold iron without fire, but the heat of the sun.] heere among these tents, i saw smiths worke out of cold iron, horse-shooes, and nayles, which is onely molified by the vigorous heate and raies of the sunne, and the hard hammering of hands upon the anvile: so have i seene it also in asia. i could bee more particular here, but time, paper, printing, and charges will not suffer me. and now from hence, renewing our guides from place to place, and discending from savage moores to civill moores, we arrived (though with great difficulty and danger) safely at tunneis. [the beglerbegship of barbary.] and to conclude this eight part, there are three beglerbergships in the higher and lower barbary: the first is at trypolis, which was taken in by sinan bassa from the knights of malta . and commaundeth under him eight thousand tymariots, besides sixe thousand jannizaries. the second is at tunneis, the beglerbeg whereof, being of great authority, commaundeth under him twelve sanzackes, and thirty five thousand tymariots. the third is, that of algier, whose bassa hath under him fourteene sanzacks, and the commaundment of forty thousand tymariots. these are all the beglerbegs, the great turke retayneth in affricke, except the great vizier-bassa of �gipt: although in asia major and minor, he commandeth in severall provinces and kingdomes, thirty bassaes or beglerbegs. the ninth part. tunneis beene sightlesse left, i sought the ile of little malta: famous for the stile of honour'd knight-hood, drawne from great saint john, whose order and the manner, i'le expone: whence coasting sicilie, a tripled view i tooke of �tna: time discussing you a miracle of mettall; for its kind is nurs'd by raine, and suffled up with wind: and thwarting italy, the venice gulfe, carindia, carneola, the stiffe stream'd dolf; head-strong danubio, vienne, austriaes queene, and kinde moravia, set before mine eyne. to hungary i came, and vallechie, the transilvanian soile, and moldavie. whence sighting polle, and many scotsmans face, i kiss'd sigismonds hands, at warsow place: whence swethland i, and denmarke last bewray, noruegia too, in my sought london way; where bin arriv'd, safe on the brow of thames, to court i came, and homag'd royall james. and now my wish, and my arrivall, being both desirous for a while setled in tunneis, i dispatched my dragoman, and the other barbarian hireling, with a greater consideration, then my two former conditions allowed me: yet being urged to it by captaine wairds decernitour, i freely performed his direction. my conduct gone, and i staying heere, captayne waird sent twice one of his servants with me to see two sundry ovens drawne, beeing [the hatching of chicken without their mothers.] full of young chickens, which are not hatched by their mothers, but in the fornace, being thus. the oven is first spred over with warme camels dung, and upon it the egges, closing the oven. then behind the oven, there is a daily conveyance of heate, venting through a passage beneath the dung, just answerable to the naturall warmnesse of the hens belly; upon which moderation, within twenty dayes they come to naturall perfection. the oven producing at one time, three or foure hundred living chickens, and where defection is, every sharer beareth a part of the losse; for the hatcher or curator, is onely recompensed according to the living numbers be delivered. surely this is an usuall thing, almost through all affricke, which maketh that the hennes with them are so innumerable every where. and now it was my good fortune, after five weekes attendance for transportation, being about the . of february . to meete here with a holland ship called the marmaide of amsterdam, beeing come from tituana, and bound for venice and malta, touched here by the [captaine dansers imployment.] way. in this time of their staying, came one captayne danser a fleming, who had beene a great pyrate and commaunder at seas, and the onely inveterate enemy of the moores; beeing imployed by the french king in ambassage, to relieve two and twenty french barkes that were there captivated, done by the policy of the bashaw, to draw danser hither; notwithstanding that hee was then retired, and marryed in marseilles. well, he is come, and anchored in the roade, accompanied with two french gentlemen: two of which came a shoare, and saluted the bashaw in dansers behalfe: they are made welcome, and the next day the bashaw went franckly a boord of danser, seconded with twelve followers: danser tooke the presence of the bashaw for a great favour, and mainely feasted him with good cheare, great quaffing, sounding trumpets, and roaring shots, and none more familiar then the dissembling bashaw, and over-joyed danser, that had relieved the barkes, for they were all sent to him that morning, not wanting any thing. after deepe cups, the bassaw invites him to come a shoare, the day following, and to dine with him in the fortresse: to the which unhappy danser graunted, and the time come, he landed with twelve gentlemen, and nearing the castle, was met with two turkes to receive him: where having past the draw-bridge, & the gate shut behind him, his company was denied entrance: where forthwith danser being brought before the bassaw, was strictly accused of many ships, spoyles, and great riches he had taken from the moores, and the mercilesse murther of their lives, for he never spared any: [the untimely death of captayne danser a fleming born.] whereupon he was straight beheaded, and his body throwne over the walles in a ditch; which done, off went the whole ordonance of the fort, to have sunke dansers two ships; but they cutting their cables, with much adoe escaped, but for the other gentlemen a shoare, the bassaw sent them very courteously and safely aboord of the redeemed barks, whence they hoised sayles for marseilles. loe there was a turkish policy more sublime and crafty, than the best europian alive could have performed. a little while thereafter, the afore-said hollander being ready to goe for sea, i bad goodnight to generous waird, and his froward runagates, where being imbarked, with prosperous windes upon the third day, wee landed at malta, and there leaving my kind flemings and their negotiation, i courted the shoare, saluting againe my former hoste. the fift day of my staying here, i saw a spanish souldier and a maltezen boy burnt in ashes, for the publick profession of sodomy, and long or night, there were above a hundred bardassoes, whoorish boyes that fled away to sicilie in a galleyot, for feare of fire but never one bugeron stirred, being few or none there free of it: the knights that remaine here, as they are of divers howsoever, they of the better sort, are resolute in their atchievements. the maltezes aunciently did adore the goddesse juno, whose temple was superbiously adorned with rich decorements, and to which for homage and devotion, came all the inhabitants of the circumjacent iles; bringing rich presents and gifts; and they were also honored with the temple of hercules, the ruines of which appeare to this day. now as for their order of knighthood, the oath which is made at their receiving, in the order of st. john, or of the [the formall oath of the knights of malta.] religion of the holy hospitall of jerusalem, is thus: i vow, and promise to god, to the most blessed virgin mary, the mother of god, and to our glorious patrone st. john the baptist, that by the grace and helpe of heaven, i shall ever be obedient to the superiour, that god and this religion have appointed; and from henceforth that i shal live chast, forsaking marriage, and all other lusts, and to be without the proper possession of any thing that may be mine. after this, the chappell clarke, a priest of the order, receiving him with divers ceremonies, taketh a blacke cloak in his hand, and shewing him the white crosse that is fixed thereon; demandeth if he doth not beleeve that to be the signe of the crosse, whereon jesus christ was crucified for our sinnes, he confesseth it, kissing the crosse: after which, his receiver putteth the crosse of the cloake upon the heart and left side of the new made knight, saying: receive this signe in the name of the trinity, the blessed mother of god, the virgin mary, and of st. john the baptist, for the augmentation of the catholick faith, the defence of the christian name and service of the poore: also we put this crosse on thy left side, to the end, that thou mayst love it with all thy heart, and with thy right hand for to defend it: and in fighting against the enemies of jesus christ, thou shalst happen to flee, and leave this holy signe behind thee, thou shalst of good right be depraved of this holy religious order, and of our company: this done, he knitteth the cordon of the cloake about him saying; receive the yoake of our lord that is sweet, and light, and thou shalst find rest for thy soule: this spoke, he kisseth the cordon, and so doe all the circumstanding knights, and there are made unto him divers orations and precepts, contained in the booke of their ordinances: they have a priest-hood too of this same order, being masse-priests that weare this badge of the white crosse. now bidding farewell to malta, and to mine aforesayd countrey gentleman william dowglas, i landed the next morning at sicly in sicilia, being twenty leagues distant. and now this being the third time of my traversing this kingdome, (triple experience, deeper knowledge) i begin to give you a perfit description thereof. [the first denominations of sicilia.] sicilia was first named trinacria (whose figure is triquetria) for that being triangular, it butteth into the sea with three promontories: capo di coro, south, cap di passaro west: and cap di saro east: the length of each triangle from point to point, being . miles. terra tribus scopulis, vastum procurrit in æquor, trinacris a positu, nomen adepta loci. an ile with corners three, out-braves the mayne from whence the name trinacry it doth gaine. it is now called sicilia from the siculi or sicani who possessed it, and hath beene famous in all former ages: by diodorus siculus, it was cognominated the paragon of iles: by titus livius, the garden of italy: it was also aunciently called the grange of the romanes, and is never a whit decayed to this day. the length of the iland lyeth east and west, in circuit sixe hundred, large fifty, and in length two hundred fourty italian miles: [the fertility of sicilia.] the soyle is incredible fruitfull, excelling in all sorts of graine, as cornes, wheat, wine, sugar, ryce, oyle, salt, allom, all kinds of fruit, wholesome hearbs, exceeding good silke, exquisite mines of mettall, and the best corall in the world is found here, beside trapundy; growing under the water greene and tender, but when arising above, it becommeth red and hard: the like whereof is sayd to be found in the red-sea, and gulfe of persia. the most of the townes and villages within land, are [townes set on heights reserve good ayre.] builded on the highest hills and greatest heights in the countrie; the reason is two-fold; first it serveth them for strength, and a great defence in time of cursarary invasions, of which divers bee so strait in ascending, that one man may easily resist and beat downe five hundred. the second is, because their dwellings being farre above the parching plaines, these situations are good preservatives for their health, whereon they have a sweet and cooling ayre, which in such a hot climat, is the soveraigne salve to prevent sicknesse. their villages be farre distant, some sixe, ten, fifteene, twenty miles one from another; in all which grounds there is no sequestrate house, unlesse (being a high way) it be a fundaco or inne. about the sides of the hills, whereon their townes stand, grow all their wines, and on the plaines nothing but red wheat, which for goodnesse is unparalelled, and the best bread and abundance of it in the world is here. sicilia was formerly devided in [the auncient divisions of sicilia.] three regions, to wit, the valley of demonia, containing �tna, catagna, messina, and that angle of cap di faro, of old pelora: the other the valley of neitia, containing syracusa, terra nova, and the angle of cap di cora of old, of lilibea; and the third was the valley of matzzara contayning palermo, trapundy, malzara, and the angle of cap di passero old pachinum: many thinke that sicilia was rent from italy by the violence of waters, at the generall deluge, some by infinit earthquakes, and some simply conjecture the cause to have proceeded from combustious �tna, which is meere ridiculous. there are divers grounds and valleyes in this ile, that abound so in wheat, that the inhabitants recoyle a hundred measures for one, and commonly are called the fields of a hundred measures. [sicilians are brave orators.] the sycilians for the most part are bred orators, which made the apulians tearme them, men of three tongues: besides they are full of witty sentences, and pleasant in their rancounters, yet among themselves, they are full of envy (meaning their former kindnesses was unto strangers) suspicious and dangerous in conversation, being lightly given to anger and offences, and ready to take revenge of any injury comitted: but indeed i must confesse, more generously than the italians, who murder their enemies in the night; for they appeale other to single combat, and that manfully without fraudulent practices. they are curious, and great lovers of novelties, and full of quicknesse and rare inventions in all kind of sciences, great intelligencers, and lovers of histories: as i found in divers of them, who knew the passages formerly of my countrey so exquisitly that i was astonished at their relations, so agreeable with the trueth and times past. the parliament of sicily hath a wonderfull great authority; insomuch that the viceroy can not have the free gift (as they call it) which is every third yeare, nor no extraordinary thing, nor the renewing of any matter concerning the common-wealth, without the generall consent of the whole kingdome: [the great counsell of sicilia.] the generall counsell whereof is composed of three branches, called by them, the armes of the kingdome: viz. first the prelats, and inferiour clergy men, named the arme ecclesiastick: secondly of barons called the arme military: and the third, the commissioners of cities and townes, intitulated the arme signioriall: the crowne-rent of this kingdome amounteth to a million and a halfe of duccats yearely: which being disbursed ever for intertaining of captaines, garrisons and of gallies, and cursary ships, the badgelloes and servants for the fields, the maintaining of towers, and watches about the coasts, the reparations of colledges, high-wayes, lords pensions, and other defrayings, there rests little, or nothing at all to the king. i remember in my twice being in this kingdome, (especially the second time, wherein i compassed the whole iland, and thrice traversed the middle parts thereof from sea to sea) i never saw any of that selfe nation, to begge bread, or seeke almes; so great is the beatitude of their plenty. and i dare avow it (experience taught mee) that the porest creature in sicily eateth as good bread, as the best prince in christendome doth. the people are very humane, ingenious, eloquent and pleasant, their language in many words is nearer the latine, then the italian, which they promiscuously pronounce: somewhat talkative they are, and effeminate, but generally wonderfull kind to strangers. in the moneths of july and august, all the marine townes every yeare, are strictly and strongly guarded with them of the inland villages and bourges, both on foot and horse-backe: who are compelled to lie there at their owne charges, so long as this season lasteth; in which they feare the incursions of the turkes; but the rest of the yeare, these sea-coast townes are left to the vigilant custody of the indwellers. this countrey was ever sore oppressed with rebells and bandits, [the duke of sona viceroy of sicilia.] untill such time that the military duke of sona, came to rule there as viceroy, anno . where in the first yeare he brought in five hundred; some whereof were hanged, some pardoned, and some committed to the gallies: so that within two yeares of his foure yeares government, there was not a bandit left at randon in all sicilia; the like before was never seene in this region, nor one in whom astreas worth was more honoured, in fortitude of mind, and execution of true justice than this duke, before whose face, the silly ones did shine, and the proud stiffe-necked oppressours did tremble. and in a word, he was no suppressour of the subjects (as many now be) to satisfie either licentious humors, or to inrich light-headed flatterers, but serving justice, he made justice serve him: for the equitie of justice of itselfe, can offend none, neither of any will it be offended; unlesse the corrupt tongue and hand of the mercenary judge, suffer sound judgement to perish for temporary respects; which this noble governour could never doe, neither suffer any inferiour magistrate to doe the like under him: as it well appeared by his just proceedings against the jesuites of palermo, and his authority upon them imposed in spight of their ambition. the circumstances whereof were very plausible, if time did not slaughter my goodwill; and yet my patience could performe my paines with pleasure. and likewise against a seminary gallant, a parochial [an equitable justice for injustice sake.] priest of that same city, who had killed a knights servant in a brothell-house, the brother of a shoomaker, which fellow, the viceroy caused to pistoll the priest in spight of the cardinall, and thereupon absolved him for the dead. the cardinall having onely for the priests fact, discharged him to say masse for a yeare without satisfaction for the mans life: so the duke inhibited the shoomaker to make shooes for a yeare, and neverthelesse allowed him two shillings a day to mainetayne him for that time. many singular observations have i of his government, the which to recite would prove prolixious, though worthy of note to the intellective man; hee was afterward viceroy of naples, and now lately deceased in spaine. it is dangerous to travell by the marine of the sea-coast creekes in the west parts, especially in the mornings, least he finde a moorish frigot lodged all night, under colour of a fisher-boat, to give him a slavish breakfast: for so they steale labouring people off the fields, carrying them away captives to barbary; notwithstanding of the strong watch towers, which are every one in sight of another round about the whole iland. their arrivalls are usually in the night, and if in day time, they are soone discovered; the towers giving notice to the villages, the sea coast is quickly clad with numbers of men on foot and horse-backe: and oftentimes they advantagiously seaze on the moores lying in obscure clifts and bayes. all the christian iles in the mediteeranean sea, and the coast of italy and spaine, inclining to barbary, are thus chargeably guarded with watch towres. the chiefe remarkeable thing in this ile from all antiquity is the burning hill of �tna, called now monte bello, or gibello, signifying a faire mountayne, so it is, being of height toward catagna from the sea side, fifteene sicilian miles, and in circuite sixty. the north side toward rindatza at the roote beeing unpassable steepe; yet gathering on all parts so narrow to the top, as if it had beene industriously squared, having a large prospect in the sea; about the lower parts whereof, grow exceeding good wines, cornes, and olives. [my second view of �tna.] and now in my second travailes, and returne from affricke, i not being satisfied with the former sight, the kinde bishop of rindatza courteously sent a guide with me on his owne charges, to view the mountayne more strictly. ascending on the east and passable part, with tedious toyle, and curious climbing, wee approached neare to the second fire being twelve miles high; which is the greatest of the three now burning in �tna: whose vast mouth, or gulfe is twice twelve-score long and wide, lying in a straight valley betweene a perpendicular height and the mayne mountayne; whose terrible flames, and cracking smoake is monstrous fearefull to behold. having viewed and reviewed this, as neare as my guide durst adventure (the ground meane while whereon wee stood warming our feete, and is dangerous for holes, without a perfect guide) wee ascended three miles higher to the maine top or cima, from which the other two fires had their beginning. where when come, wee found it no way answerable to the greatnesse of the middle fire; the other two drawing from it the substance, wherewith it hath beene aunciently furnished; yet betweene them two upper fires, i found aboundance of snow (beeing in july) lying on the septentrion sides of the hill. it was heere in this upmost fornace, that empedocles the phylosopher cast himselfe in, to bee reputed for a god. ----deus immortalis haberi dum cupit empedocles, ardentem fervidus �tnam insiluit---- to be a god, this curious wretch desires and casts himselfe, in the fierce �tnean fires. as we discended on the north-east side, we came to the third and lowest fire, which is within a short mile of the mountaynes foote, over against rindatza; and if it were not for a sulphureat river, which divideth the towne and the hill, it would bee in danger to be burned. [the lowest and third fire of �tna.] this last and least fire, runne downe in a combustible flood, from the middle above, anno . june . where the sulphure streames, before it congealed, falling in a bituminous soyle, where wine and olives grew there seased, and daily augmenteth more and more; having quite spoiled the lands of two barons in rindatza: but the king of spaine, in recompence of their miserable mishapes, did gratifie them with some of his crowne lands for their maintenance. i speake it credibly, i have found the relickes of these sulphure streames, which have burst forth from the upmost tops of �tna westward, above twenty miles in the playne. the reason of such ardent disgorgements, is thus; that when the abundance of sulphure, being put on edge with excessive raine, and the bituminous substance still increasing; which by the chaps, slits, and hollow chinkes of the ground (rent partly by the sunne, and by the forcing flames) is blowne by the wind, as by a payre of bellowes; the vault or vast bosome, of which ugly cell not being able to contayne such a compositure of combustible matter, it impetuously vomiteth out, in [the combustious devalling of �tnaes fire.] an outragious torrent; which precipitately devalleth, so long as the heate remayneth: and growing cold, it congealeth in huge and blacke stones, resembling minerall mettall, and full of small holes, like to the composed cinders of a smithes forge, wherewith the houses of nine townes circumjacent thereunto, are builded. this is that place, which the poets did report to bee the shop of vulcan, where cyclops did frame the thunder-bolts for jupiter: whereof virgill doeth make his tract, called �tna. under this hill the poets faine the gyant enceladus to be buried, whose hote breath fireth the mountayne, lying on his face; and to conclude of �tna, the grosse papists hold it to be their purgatory. [palermo.] the chiefe cities therein are palermo, the seate of the viceroy, situate in the north-west part over agaynst sardinia: it is a spacious city, and well watered with delicate fountaynes, having goodly buildings, and large streetes, whereof strado reale is principall, beeing a mile long. in which i have seene in an evening march along for recreation above . coaches; a paire of mulets, being tyed to every coach: the gallies of sicilia, which are ten, lye here. the second is messina, toward the east, over against regio, in calabria, being impregnable, and graced with a famous haven: having three invincible castles, the chiefe whereof, is saint salvator by the sea side; there be divers other bulwarkes of the towne wals, that serve for offensive and defensive forts, which is the cause (in derision of the turkes) they never shut their gates. [the famous city of syracusa.] the third is syracusa, standing on the southeast coast fifty miles beyond �tna, and halfe way twixt messina and malta, a renowned citty, and sometimes the metropolitane seate: it is famous for the arathusean springs, and archimedes that most ingenious mathematician: he was the first author of the spheere, of which instruments he made one of that bignesse, and arte, that one standing within, might easily perceive, the severall motions, of every cælestiall orbe: and when the romanes besiedged siracusa, he made such burning glasses, that set on fire all their shippes lying in the road: at last he was slayne by a common souldier in his studdy, at the sacke of the towne, to the great griefe of marcellus the roman generall; when he was making plots, and drawing figures on the ground, how to prevent the assaults of the romanes. [trapundy.] the fourth is trapundy in the west, over agaynst biserta in barbary, which yeeldeth surpassing fine salt, that is transported to italy, venice, dalmatia, and greece; made onely in some certayne artificiall salt pooles, by the vigorous beating of the scorching sunne, which monthly they empty and fill. the marine here excelleth in ruby corall, which setteth the halfe of the towne at work, and when refined, is dispersed over al christendom. this city is in great request amongst the papists because of the miraculous lady heere, reputed the ilands protector, and sole governour of these narrow seas, for shippes, gallies, and slaves: which indeede if an image cut out in white marble were so powerfull, it might be credible; but besides this idolatrous title, they superstitiously thereunto annexe a rable of absurd lies. the fift is catagna, placed at the marine foot of �tna, that was so vexed by dionisius the tyrant. the sixt is matzara south-west, over against the barbarian promontore of lystra, the rest be rindatza, terra nova, emma, whence pluto is sayd to have stolne proserpina, malzara, francavilla, bronzo, terramigna, and argenti once agrigentum, where the tyrant phalaris lived, who tortured perillus in the brazen bull, which he made for the destruction of others. [the sicilian tyrants.] the tyrannies which were used in sicilia were in times past so famous, that they grew unto this proverbe, invidia siculi non invenire tyranni, tormentum majus. the elder and younger dionisius, were such odious tyrants, and the third dionisius worst of all, that when the people powred out continuall execrations on the last, wishing his death; onely one old woman prayed for his life: this reason she gave, since from the grandfather, his father, and he, each succeeding worser and worser, and least (said she) he dying, the divell should come in his place, (for a worser never lived) i wish him to continue still. this kingdome after it was rent from the romanes, remained in subjection under the french till the yeare, . in which peter of arragon, contrived his purpose so close, that at the sound of a bell, to the evening vespers, all the french men in sicilia were cruelly massacred; since which time it hath ever belonged to the house of arragon, and now of spaine, which exploit masketh under the name of vesperi siculi. for nobility this iland may compare with naples, their styles (like unto italy) are great, but their revenewes wondrous small. the sicilians have a proverb, as having experience of both, [a true comparison betweene the french and the spaniards.] that the french are wiser than they seeme, and the spaniards seeme wiser then they are: and even as the spaniard is extremely proud in the lowest ebbe of fortune: so is the french man exceeding impatient, cowardly desperate, and quite discouraged in the pinch of sterne calamity. the spaniard and the french man have an absolute opposition, and conditionall disagreement in all fashions; and in their riding both different, and defective: for the spaniard rideth like a monkey mounted on a camell, with his knees and heeles alike aside, sitting on the sadle, like to a halfe ballast ship, tottering on top-tempestuous waves: and the french man, hangeth in the stirrop, at the full reach of his great toe, with such a long-legged ostentation, pricking his horse with neck-stropiat spurres, and beating the wind with his long waving limbes, even as the turkes usually do, when they are tossed at their byrham, hanging betweene two high trees, reciprocally waving in the ayre, from the force of two long bending ropes. [the sicilian customes.] the women ride here stridling in the sadle, and if double, the man sitteth behind the woman: the women also after the death of their friends keepe a ceremonious mourning twice a day, for a moneths space, with such yelping, howling, shouting, and clapping of hands, as if all sicilia were surprised by the moores: yet neither shedding teares, nor sorrowfull in heart, for they will both hollow and laugh at one time: the same custome for the dead, the turkes observe, and all the orientall people of asia. this iland finally is famous, for the worthy schollers shee once produced: archimedes the great mathematician; empidocles, the first inventer of rhetoricke; euclide the textuary geomettrician; diodorus siculus that renowned historian, and �shilus the first tragedian of fame, who being walking in the fields, and bald through age, by chance, an eagle taking his bald pate for a white rocke, let a shell-fish fall on it, of that bignesse, that it beat out his braines. but to proceed in my itinerary relation, having twice imbarked at messina for italy, from asia, and affricke, i have choosed the last time (double experience, deeper knowledge) for the discourse of my departure thence: after a generall surveigh of this iland and monte bello [mine arrivall at messina.] arriving at messina, anno . august . i encountered with a worshipfull english gentleman mr. stydolffe esquier of his majesties body, accompanied with my countrey man mr. wood now servant to james earle of carelill, who instantly were both come from malta, the generous affabilitie of which former gentleman to mee in no small measure was extended; meeting also afterward at naples, as in the owne place shall be succinctly touched. here i found some . christian gallies, assembled to the faire of messina, which holdeth every yeare the . of august: wherein all sorts of merchandize are to be sold, especially raw silke in abundance: of which gallies went to scoure the coasts of greece. messina is foure miles distant from rhegio in calabria, and two miles from the opposit maine. this rhegium was that towne where saint paul arrived after his ship-wracke at malta in his voyage to rome: it was miserably sacked by the turkish gallies of constantinople, anno, . but now by the spaniards it is repaired with stronger walles, and new fortifications, sufficiently able to gaine-stand any such like accidentall invasions. in this time of mine abode here, there happily arrived from italy my singular good friend mr. mathew dowglas his majesties chirurgion extraordinary, being bound also for the levant in the same voyage of the christian incursions against the infidels, whose presence to me after so long a sight of hethnike strangers was exceeding comfortable, and did there propine him with this sonnet (which i made on �tna) as the peculiar badge of my innated love. high stands thy top, but higher lookes mine eye, high soares thy smoake, but higher my desire, high are thy rounds, steepe, circled, as i see, but higher farre this breast, whilst i aspire: high mounts the fury of thy burning fire, but higher far mine aimes, transcend above: high bends thy force, through midst of vulcans ire, but higher flies my spirit, with wings of love, high presse thy flames, the christall aire to move, but higher moves the scope of my engine, high lieth the snow, on thy proud tops i prove, but higher up ascends, my brave designe. thy height cannot surpasse this cloudy frame but my poore soule, the highest heavens doth claime, meane while with paine, i climb to view thy tops, thy height makes fall from me ten thousand drops. here in messina i found the (sometimes) great english [the death of sir frances verney.] gallant sr. frances verny lying sick in a hospitall, whom sixe weekes before i had met in palermo: who after many misfortunes in exhausting his large patrimony, abandoning his countrey, and turning turk in tunneis; he was taken at sea by the sicilian gallies: in one of which he was two yeares a slave, whence hee was redeemed by an english jesuite, upon a promise of his conversion to the christian faith: when set at liberty, hee turned common souldier, and here in the extreamest calamity of extreame miseries, contracted death: whose dead corpes i charitably interred in the best manner, time could affoord me strength, bewailing sorrowfully the miserable mutability of fortune, who from so great a birth, had given him so meane a buriall; and truly so may i say, sic transit gloria mundi. after sixteene dayes attendance for passage, their fortunately accoasted heere twelve napolitan gallies come from apulia, and bound for naples: in one of which, by favour of marquesse dell sancta cruce the generall, i imbarked, and so set forward through the narrow seas, which divide italy and sicilia: the strait whereof, is . miles in length, in breadth . . and . miles. this sea, is called the faro of messina, and fretum siculum; at the west end whereof, wee met with two contrary chopping tides, which somewhat rusling like unto broken seas, did choake the gallies with a strugling force: incidunt in scyllam, cupiens vitare charibdim. who strive to shunne, the hard calabrian coast, on sandy scilla, wrestling they are lost. [a comparison of irrepugnable streames.] yet of no such eminent perill, or repugnable currents, as be in the firths of stronza and westra: especially pentland firth, which divideth katnes from pemonia, the mayne land of orknay; wherein who unskilfully looseth from eyther sides, may quickly loose sight both of life and land for ever. as we entred in the gulfe of saint eufemia, we fetched up the little ile of strombolo: this isolet is a round rocke, and a mile in compasse, growing to the top like to a pomo, or pyramide, and not much unlike the isolets of basse and elsey, through the toppe whereof, as through a chimney arriseth a continuall fire, and that so terrible, and furiously casting foorth great stones and flames, that neyther galley nor boate, dare coast or boord it. south from hence, and in sight thereof, on the north coast of sicily lye the two ilands, vulcan major, and minor; whereof the lesser perpetually burneth, and the greater is long since consumed. on the fourth day we touched at ischa, the greatest ile belonging to naples, and . miles in circuite, being strongly begirded with rockey heights. the chiefe towne is ischa, whether ferdinando of naples fled, being thrust out of his kingdome by charles the eight. [a boyling fountaine in the ile of ischa.] there is a fountayne here of that incredible heate, that in short time will boyle any fish or flesh put in it, and the taste agreeable to digestion. departing from thence, and coasting the mayne shoare, we had a moorish frigot in chase, where seazing on her, we found . moores therein, and sixe christians, three men, two women, and a boy, whom they had taken up, in going betweene two townes by the sea side. the peasants were set at liberty, and the moores immediately preferred to chaynes of iron, bloody lashes, tugging of gally oares, and perpetuall slavery. neere the marine, and in sight of naples, wee boorded close by the foote of the hill vesuvio, which in time past did burne, but now extinguished: it was here that the elder pliny who had spent all his time in discovering the secrets of nature; pressing neere to behold it, was stifled with the flame, so that he dyed in the same place, which is most excellently described in the booke of his epistles, by his nephew the younger. arriving at naples, i gave joyfull thankes to god for my safe returne to christendome, and the day following, i went to review the auncient monuments of putzola or puteoli: which when i had dilligently remarked in my returne halfe way to naples, i met the aforesayd english gentleman and m. woode, who needes would have me turne backe to accompany them hither. when come, we tooke a guide, and so proceeded in our sights; the first [the antiquities of putzolo.] thing of any note wee saw, was the stupendious bridge, which caius caligula builded betweene putzolo and baia, over an arme of the sea, two miles broad: some huge arches, pillars, and fragments whereof remayne unruined to this day: the next, was the new made mountayne of sand, which hath dryed up lago lucrino, being by an earth-quake transported hither; at the foote of this fabolous hill, we saw the remnants of ciceroes village. thence we came to the temple of apollo, standing on the east side of lacus avernus, the walles whereof, and pendicles (the tecture excepted) are as yet undemolished. this lake averno is round, and hemb'd in about with comely heights, being as our guide reported infinitely deepe, and in circuite a short mile. the west end whereof, is invironed with the mountayne of cuma, whether �neas arrived when hee fled from dido queene of carthage, and sister to pigmalion king of tyrus. advancing our way, along the brinke of the lake, we [sybilaes cave.] came to sybillaes cave, the entery being darke, because of the obscure passage, hewen out and cut through the mayne rocke, our guide strooke fire, and so with a flambo marched before us. the first passage was exceeding high cime, and the further end stopped with mouldring earth. inclining to our right hand, we passed through a very straite and low passage, and so arrived in sybillaes chamber, which is a delicate roome, and artificially decored with mosaical worke: here it is sayd, the divell frequented her company, and where shee wrot her prophecies. from thence hee conducted us through a most intricate and narrow way, (wherein we were forced to walke sidling in) to a large and vast rome: the rockey vault whereof, was hanging full of loose and long stones, many of which were fallen to the bottome. this great cell or hall, is a yard deepe of blackish water, [the old dining roome of sybilla.] and was the dining roome of sybilla: in which hearing toward the further end, a scriking noyse, as if it had beene the chirking of frogs, the hissing of serpents, the bussing of bees, or snarling of wolves; we demanded our guide from whence such a sound proceeded? who answered, they were dragons and flying serpents, praying us to returne, for the fellow was mightily affrayde: whereat i laughing, replyed, there was no such matter; and m. stydolffe desirous to know it, hee onely and i, leaving the other two behind us, adventured the tryall: having more then halfe way entered in this sale, stepping on huge stones because of the water, and i carrying the flambo, for lacke of ayre, being so far under ground, the light perished. whereupon wee hollowed to our guide, but the reverberating eccho avoyded the sense of our words, neyther would he, nor durst he hazard to support us. meanewhile it being hell-darke, and impossible to find such a difficult way backe, and tendering (as by duty) the worthy gentleman, i stepped downe to my middle thigh in the water, wrestling so along to keepe him on the dry stones. where indeed i must confesse, i grew affrighted for my legs, fearing to be interlaced with water serpents, and snakes, for indeed the distracting noyse drew aye nearer and nearer us. at last, falling neare the voyce of our guide, who never left shouting, wee returned the same way wee came in, and so through the other passages, till wee were in open fields. here indeed for my too much curiosity, i was condignely requited, being all bemired and wet to the middle, yet forthwith the vigorous sunne disburdned me quickly thereof: from thence (to be briefe) we came to [the ancient varieties of the antiquities of putzolo.] the bagni, the relicts of pompeis village, to the fort of baia, and the laborinth of ciento camarello, into the admirable fish ponds of lucullus, (the coverture of which, is supported by . naturall pillars of stony earth) to the detriments of messina, mercato sabbato, and the elisian fields: thence we returned by the sepulcher of agricula, the mother of cruell nero, who slit up her belly to see the matrix wherein he was conceived; and by the two decayed temples of venus, and mercury: crossing over in a boat to the towne of putzolo, the chiefe monument we saw, was the auncient temple of jupiter, who serveth now for their domo, or parochiall church: the latter idolatry of which, is nothing inferiour to the former. meanewhile here arrived the french gallies, fetching home chevalier du vandum, the prior of france from malta: who scouring the coast of the lower barbary, their fortune was to fall upon a misfortunate english ship belonging to captaine pennington, which they as a cursaro or man of warre confiscated. their anchors fallen, i boorded the queenes galley, where to my great griefe i found a countrey-man of speciall acquaintance, [the mr. of a scots ship distressed by evill misfortune.] george gib of burrowtownenes (who was pylot to the english) fast chained to an oare, with shaven head and face: who had his owne shippe twice seazed on by the turkes, and mamora, which ship he lastly recovered at the ile sardinia, and sold her at naples being miserably worme-eaten. to whose undeserved miseries, in my charitable love, i made a christian oath, that at my arrivall in england, i should procure by the helpe of his friends, his majesties letters to the duke of guyse admirall, for his deliverance. but soone thereafter, being of a great spirit, his heart broke, and so died in marseils. tempora labuntur, tacitisque senescimus annis, et fugiunt fræno, non remorante dies. times slide away, gray haires come posting on, no reyne can hold, our dayes so swiftly gon. departing from putzolo, we came to the sulphatara, where the fine brimstone is made, which is a pretty incircling plaine, standing upon a moderate hight; having three vents, through two of which, the smoaking flame ariseth, and the other produceth no fire; but after an excessive raine surgeth sixe foote high with blacke boyling water, which continueth so long as the rayne lasteth. from thence (our guide leaving us) we came to grotto di cane; wherein if a dogge be cast he will suddenly die, and taken thence, and cast in the lake, he will forthwith revive: this grotto or cave, standeth on the side and root of a sulphure hill, the brinke of lago di avagno: we desirous to make tryall of a dog; and finding the fellow that purposely stayeth there somewhat extortionable, i adventured in stead of a dog to make tryall of my selfe; whereupon maister stydolffe holding up the quartered doore, i entered to the further end thereof, bringing back a warme stone in each hand from thence: whereat the italians swore, i was a divell and not a man: for behold (say they) there was a french gentleman the former yeare, who in a bravado, would needes goe in: whereupon hee was presently stifled to death, and here lyeth buried at the mouth of the grotto to serve for a caveat, to all rash and unadvised strangers to doe the like. [the dangerous dogs cave neare unto putzolo.] the relation indeed was true, but i counting nothing of it, would needes (sore against the gentleman and master woods will) goe in againe, where entred to the bottome being ten paces long, the moysty and choaking heat did so suffocate and benumbe my senses, that with much adoe i returned backe; where receiving the fresh ayre, and a little wine, i presently forgot my former trance: which when the dog-keeper saw, he for an easie composition made triall of his dog; and having tyed a string to his hinder leg, he cast the dog scarce halfe way in the cave, where immediately his tongue hanging out, he fell downe dead: and forthwith his master repulling him backe, cast him in the lake, powring in water in his eares, but hee could never recover his life. whereupon the poore man cried out, alas i am undone, what shall i doe, the dog that wonne my dayly food is dead; in compassion whereof the worthy gentleman doubled his wages. in our way and returne to naples, we passed through virgils grot, being halfe a mile long, and cut through the maine body of a rocke, whereby the mountaine of cataia by the sea-side is made passable; at the east end whereof neare the cyme of the vault is virgils tombe: and arrived at naples, mr. william stydolffe reporting to divers of his countrey gentlemen and mine, of my adventure in grotto di cane, they could hardly be perswaded to beleeve it: but when avouched, they all avowed i had done that (so did divers neapolitans) which never man had done before me reserving life. bidding farewell to my generous friends, i marched through terra di lavoro, and in the way of saint germane, and mount cassino to rome; within ten miles of capua, [great poverty under great titles.] i found the poorest bishop (nomen sine re) the world affoordeth: having no more (nor never had he, nor any before him) than dui carolini or juletti twelve pence a day to spend. so is there many a marquesse, earle, baron, and knight in italy, who is unable at one time, to keepe a foote-man at his heeles, a dog at his foote, a horse betweene his legs, a good sute of clothes on his backe, and his belly well fed; so glorious be their stiles, and so miserable their revenewes. touching at rome, i secretly borrowed one nights lodging there, and at the breach of day another houres sight and conference, with my cousing simeon grahame; who ere the sunne arose, crossing ponto flamingo, brought me on in my journey, till a high way taverne like a jayle held us both fast, where leaving our reciprocall loves behind us, wee divided our bodies east and west. and now ere i leave rome, i thinke it best, to let our papists here at home, see the shamefull lives & cruell deaths, of most of their popes beyond seas: which their owne best authors in france, italy, and spaine, have justly & condignely avouched & recorded; & authorized also to light by their prime powers civil and spirituall. the papists generally hold, that in their popes, is all power; super omnes potestates, tam cæli quam terræ; above all powers both in heaven and earth: they tearme him alter deus in terris; a second god upon the earth: deus mortalis in terris, et immortalis homo in cælis; a mortall god upon the earth, and an immortall man in the heavens: some of them have allotted, that he is, non deus, non homo, sed utrunque; neyther god nor man but both: the popes former title was servus servorum dei; and they call him rex regum, dominus dominantium, king of kings, and lord of lords. [the false and arrogant titles of the pope.] paul the third, entering tolentino in the vale of ombria joyning with tuscany, had this salutation: paulo tertio, maximo, in terris deo; to paule the third, the best, and greatest god on earth. then since they will have them gods, above the god of gods; tell me i pray you, what a may pole dauncer, was john . alias . of . yeares old, who made the lateran their great church in rome, a playne stewes or brothel house. what a pope-boy of twelve yeares old, was benedict the ninth? and after wrought by inchantments. another pope they had, whom they called unum pecus, in co quod de mane faciebat gratiam, et de sero revocabat: a very asse, for in the morning hee would grant many great kindnesses, and at night revoake them all agayne. what a thiefe was pope boniface the seventh? who robbed st. peters church? what a sodomiticall pope was sixtus the fourth; who builded stewes of both kindes, granting his cardinals the use of sodomy, for three hote moneths. what an atheisticall pope, was leo the tenth? who called the gospell a fable. what a hereticall pope was honorius the first? who by sixe general counsels, was condemned for a monothelit: what a perjured pope was gregory the twelfth? and openly forsworne: what a negromancer was silvester the second? who gave himselfe both soule and body to the divell, to attaine the popedome: what was pope john the eleventh, but a bastardly brat to pope sergius? what a sorcerer, charmer, and conjurer, was hildebrand, called gregory the seventh? given to all beastlinesse, and diabolicall practices; this was he that threw the sacrament in the fire: what was [a tract of beastly popes and cruell villaines.] innocent the third? who was branded with this black marke, non est innocentius, imo nocens vere, he is not innocent; but very nocent: what a wicked and cruell murtherer was john the twelfth a romane borne, who caused to cut off the nose of one cardinall, and the thumbe of another cardinall; onely because they had wrot the whole tract of his abhominable vices to the emperour otho. what an inhumane and homicidious pope was stephanus the seventh? who after he had cancelled the decrees of his predecessour formosus, caused to deterre his dead body, cut off his fingers, and lay him in the fields to be devoured with the fowles of the aire: what a beastly pope was sergius the third? that after he had imprisoned christopholus his predecessor, he caused to draw out the corps of pope formosus his old compeditor from the grave, and cut off his head, as though hee had beene alive. what a cruelty was shown upon john the . who after he was depraved his papacy, had his eyes pulled out, his nose cut off and his members, and was hanged: what a poysonable pope was damasus? who poysoned his predecessour clemens the second, to attaine the papality, and yet dyed within a moneth there after being pope: what a mercilesse pope was boniface the seventh, that after he had rob'd saint peters church and fled to constantinople, hearing that pope john the . was replaced, he returned, and pulling out his eyes, did cast him in prison, where he dyed of extreame hunger. what a persecution had gelase borne in gaetta neare naples, who first by the romanes was imprisoned, then stoned through the citty, miserably dyed. gregory the . succeeding him, was deposed by caliste brother to the duke of burgondy, who imprisoned the other, and starving him to death, made him selfe pope. what devotion fell out from the braines of rome, to stone pope lucius the second to death: what a shamefull division was in your papality; for fifty yeares, when urbanus lived pope at rome and his successours; and clemens . and his successors at avigneon. nay, you have had three popes at one time; even when sigismond king of hungary and boheme was elected emperour, to wit. [three severall popes living at one time.] benedict . at avigneon; john . at bullogna; and gregory the twelfth at rimini: i pray you, could every one of them open and shut the gates of heaven and hell. what an infidell, was pope john . who denied the immortality of the soule. what was clement the . but an open whore munger and a drunken sot. what was boniface the . he was called a theefe, a robber, and rooted in all unspeakable sinnes, the eight nero of rome. what a furious and wicked pope, was julius the second? who given more to warre then to christ, cast saint peters keyes (as they call them) into tiber. what a prophaine skoffer of christ, was paule the third? who lying in bed with his owne cousin laura farnesia, was sore wounded by her husband; he lay with his owne daughter, and poysoned her husband; and then lay with his owne sister, and after poysoned both her and his owne mother. what was julius the third? an open sodomite, and horrible blasphemer. what was pope eugenius? a damnable scandalizer of the church, and condemned by the counsel of basil, for an incorrigible and wilfull hereticke. pope john . was deposed by the counsell of constance, for heresie, symony, murther, enchantment, adultery, and [the papists may looke here upon divellish popes.] worst of all for sodomy. what was pope john . a vilde monster in his life, committing incest with both his sisters, and fathers concubine stephana: hee was a gamster, and playing at dice, did call for helpe to the divel, and would drinke to the divels health; hee was repleate with all abhominable vices; at last being taken in the acte of adultery, was wounded to death. boniface the . afore named, came to bee pope, by cousning his predecessour celestine, in speaking through the wall in a reed (as if it had beene a voyce from heaven) admonished him to surrender his papacy; whose epithit was thus: intravit ut vulpes, regnavit ut lupus, mortuus est ut canis: he came in like a fox, he ruled like a wolfe, he dyed like a dogge. at the sixt counsell of carthage, was not the treachery and falshood of pope zosimus, condignely sifted out, in corrupting for ambitious government the counsell of nyce. bernard about . yeares agoe, complayned much of the tyranny of popes in his time, calling them defrauders, raveners, traytors, darknesse of the world, pilats, wolves, and divels. albertus magnus affirmeth, that they who now governe their church, are for the most part theeves and murtherers. and platina, calleth some of their popes vile monsters, uncleane beasts, and strange creatures. and i remember it was noted by a historian: episcopos romanos ne peccata quidem sine laude committere: the popes could do nothing, were it never so mischievous, but it was commendable. and even likewise are their prime pardons, for noxas preteritas, aut futuras: and their future potestatem, tam quo ad commissa, quam quo ad committenda crimina absolvenda; that his holinesse hath all manner of power, as well to absolve them from crimes to commit, as from crimes committed. and i remember about twenty yeares [a false cannonized saint.] ago paulo papa quinto, cannonized carolo borrameo, the late bishop of milane for a notable saint, being knowne to bee a notorious and scelerate liver: done sooner by fifteene yeares then their ordinary time, and that for the touch of forty thousand duckats; allotting prayers, miracles, pardons, and pilgrimages to him, and erecting a new order of friers, and monasteries unto him. and yet the poore bishop of lodi, a good and charitable liver by all reports, could never, nor cannot attayne to the dignity of a saint, his meanes was so small when dead, and his friends so poore being alive. and how wonderfull absurd is the popes bulla di santa cruzada, pro defunctis in purgatory; that for one pater noster, at a masse saying, or a masse sayd for them: sicavano fuora dalla purgatorio, tre anime qualche ci vogliano, viz. you shall relieve any three soules out of purgatory whom you please. nay, i have seene the popes edict so gracious, that induring one masse, as many paters as you can recite, as many soules you free from thence. and thus me thinketh in one halfe yeare, he might soone empty that purging pit: yet unlesse the suppliant touch with his finger, during his prayers, a gaudy beede inraveled betweene five small fast made irons, placed before the altar; their bulla, their payment for it; their paters, their devotion for their friends soules, are all lost. then say, if peradventure, the friends of the defunct be oblivious in this officiousnesse, and neglect both the ceremony, and pater noster, might not the pope justly be reputed a cruell monster, that for want of pattering an abridged pater, his cerberian office in hell, should detayne any poore soule in such torments, as they say are in purgatory. infinite passages of the like kind could i recite, if i had longer time and larger leisure; and especially of their miraculous leyes, or leying miracles; in erecting of falshood, and maintayning of perjury; but till a fitter occasion, i will revert to my itinerary discourse, and so proceede. having left my afore-sayde friend maister grahame, at a taverne at bilbo neere to rome, i set forward through the vaile of ombria and the countrey romania, [ravenna the chiefe city of romania.] whereof ravenna is lady, and the pope lord, i arrived (the way of ferrara and padua) at venice. who then was levying an army against the croatian scokes of gradisca, and the duke of grasso now emperour. of which army count mansfield was generall, and with whom i crossed the gulfe to pola in istria, and from thence to the siege of gradisca: the discourse whereof, i have here formerly avouched in the second part of my first travailes. now to speake of a souldier, certainely hee is more then prayse-worthy and fortunate, that hath faced the low-countries, reviewed briscia in lombardy, and footed and sighted the arsenal of venice, then his eyes have first seene, the sonnes, the force, the policies and kingdome of mars: secondly, the fiery shoppe of vulcan, where rarest armes and weapons are hammer'd out upon the anvill, for the honour of mars; and lastly the incomparable armory or store-house for sea and land, the meggazin and treasury of mars. now leaving both the armies barking at other like to hircanian wolves, i traced the fertile soyles of carindia, carneola, [vienne in austria no way answerable to common fame.] and stria even to vienna: all which were subject to the emperour, save a part of carneola, that groanes under the turke. being arrived at vienne, i found the towne, and the flying fame of it far different, either for greatnesse, strength, or wealth: for the towne rising upon a moderat height circular, is but of small compasse without, not passing two english miles. the suburbs round about, being twice as great as the towne; and the strength of it is no way comparable to a hundred cities that i have seene, neither is it for wealth so much to be admired, being depraved of seas, shipping, and navigation, having onely the needfull prosperity of dry land townes. here i found a turkish ambassadour, going downe the champion danubio of europe, for constantinople; and with him one gratianus, a greeke his interpreter, to whose familiar love i was much obliged; and with whom i imbarked downe the river to presburge a place where the hungarian crowne is kept, and from thence discending the river to comorre, the downemost towne the emperour retayneth on danubio, i left my noble interpreter, and traversed the champaine countrey. the chiefe townes whereof i wil briefly touch, and so proceed: buda is the capitall citie of hungary, wherein the turkish bassaw hath his residence, and was taken in by solyman the emperour, the twenty of august . the other is the aforesaid presburge, aunciently bosonia; the rest are belgrad or albegrek, aunciently taurinum, in dutch griechs: weissenberge, that was taken by soliman, . valpa, and singidum, upon the danubio, both under the turke, and that of the seven churches upon the river drana taken in, in the yeare one thousand five hundred and forty three, and zigeth taken also in the yeare one thousand five hundred sixty sixe. [the special townes of hungary.] moreover upon the danubio, the towne strigonium commonly grana, and alberoyall otherwise stulvesenburg, a place destined for the sepultures and coronations of the kings of hungary, and was taken by the turkes, anno . neare the same place is stridon, where they say st. jerome was borne: and now above all other the strong towne of gamorra, standing in an ile of the danuby of that same name, which the turkes have so oft besieged, yet never could surprise it. there is also tockay, and januarin or rab seated too upon danuby, a towne as it were impregnable, yet it was overtaken by the turkes, and lastly recovered by the christians. [the forces of the bassa of buda.] the beglerbeg of buda, hath under his command, eight thousand timariots, and twelve thousand common souldiers which lye in garrison, in continuall pay on the confines of hungary, croatia, and dacia, and these confines belonging to the house of austria: the bassa hath under his authority . sanzacks, lying at these thirteene townes here undernamed, to wit, novaguard, semendria, simontorno, zetshen, ecclesiæ, sirnium, capan, zornock, alba regalis, sigedin, mucchatz, zegedin, and sexard. the other beglerbegship of hungary is at temesara, who retaineth under his command eight sanzacks and as many jurisdictions, spreading his authoritie over sixe thousand timariots, and eight thousand foote souldiers; and these sanzacks lying at temesara, lippa, itishinad, mudania, &c. the great turke hath eight beglerbegs or bassawes under him in europe; that of bosna being one of them, who commandeth ten sanzacks and eight thousand timariots; the residence of which bassa is at bagivialezza, a commodious place lying in the midst of circulating provinces; over which he spreads the ballucco of his power. [hungary is a most fertile and fruitfull soyle.] the soyle of hungary aboundeth infinitly in all things the earth can produce for the well of man; and produceth admirable good wines, the best whereof grow neare and about the towne of sirmia, and so sweet, that they may compare with the wines of candy, yea, and aboundeth in all kind of bestiall, that it is thought this kingdome may furnish all europe with beefe and mutton. the hungarians are descended of the hunnes, a people of scythia or tartary. the auncient inhabitants divided their habitations in nine circles, which the germanes named hagyes, and impaled them with high walles, made [the first plantation of hungary.] of earth and wood, being twenty foote high, and as much in breadth, being rampierd with divers bulwarks and towers of earth, whereon grew all sorts of hearbes, and fructiferous trees. the space from side to side of each one of these circles, amounted to twenty dutch miles; the townes, villages and houses being within, and so contrived, that each one was within cry of another: this was the first admirable plantation of the hunnes in this kingdome. the hungarians have ever beene thiftuous, treacherous and false, so that there one brother will hardly trust another, which infidelity among themselves and distracted deceitfull governours, was the chiefest cause of their overthrow and subjection under infidels: and so have corrupt counsellors, and insolent princes beene the ruine of their owne kingdomes; for if we would have a prince fit to governe others, and to direct him selfe with the square rules of wisdome and judgement, to know how to become all places, and to use all fortunes; let him bind his tender youth with a disposition temperd with sadnesse: for such a man can neither seduce his minority with ill examples, nor marre his waxen age with a false impression, too common a condition of these dissolute times. [the infinite riches of hungary.] now as for the hungar soyle, and kingdome it selfe, and for the goodnes of it, it may be tearmed the girnell of ceres, the garden of bachus, the pastorage of pan, and the richest beauty of silvan: for i found the wheat here growing higher then my head, the vines over looking the trees, the grasse jusling with my knees, and the high-sprung woods, threatning the clouds: surely if i should enter on particulars here, i have more subject to worke upon, than any kingdome that ever i saw: the kingdome is divided in two parts, the higher and the lower, the lowest, largest, and best is under the turke, and the other narrow proportion under the emperour. the hungarian miles are the longest upon earth, for every one of theirs, is sixe of our scots miles, nine english: so that the most that ever i could travell there in one day, was but sixe miles: their language hath no affinity with any other kind of speech, and yet the greatest part of the countrey both under the turke and emperour are protestants, and are the best of all the rest, the other being arians and papists. there is a great gentry in this kingdome, but untravelled abroad, farre lesse mannerly at home, being luxurious and ill taught, and damnably given to that masculine misery, the whole southerne world is defiled with. having now traversed all the countrey to grana, and so to gatterad in valechia, i found the country so covered with woods, and them full of murtherers (for i was robbed on these confines, and hardly saved my life) i was constrayned i say, to returne to tockai in the higher hungary, and from thence in one day i stepped into transilvania. [a description of transilvania.] this countrey is so environed with high and unpassable mountaines about, that there is but only five entries to come into it, which make it so strong and impregnable: within there is a rich bottome or plaine of thirty miles long, and sixe broad, being beautified with six faire townes; the chiefest whereof, are cromestate, juliastrad, and hermestat. the sides of the mountaynes within rise all upward halfe levell way even to the tops, which maketh a pleasant and prospective countrey, and the best mixt soyle of europe: for on the incircled plaine, there groweth nothing but wheat, rye, barley, pease, and beanes: and on the halfe, or lower parts of the hills about, nothing but wines, and infinite villages; and toward the extreame circulary heights, only pastorage for kine, sheepe, goates, and horses, and thickets of woods: so fram'd that every one supplieth another, for they of the valley furnish the other two parts with victuall, and they againe them with wines, bestiall, butter, and cheese; each interchanging all necessary things with one another as they need. here i found every where kind and familiar people; yea, and the very vulgars speaking frequent latine, and so commonly doe all the hungarians. the inhabitants here are all protestants, but for their vayvod or prince bethlem gabor, i saw him not, for hee was lying sicke of a feaver at juliastrad: this province is a free principality, and notwithstanding adherent in some respect to the authority of the turke. but now having left this religious country, and crossing the north passage of the hils, called the borean berger, or north mountaine, i entred in moldovia; where for my welcome in the midst of a border-wood, i was beset with six murderers, hungarians and moldavians: where having with many prayers saved my life, they robbed mee of threescore hungar duccats of gold, and all my turkish clothes, leaving me stark naked; save onely they returned to me my patents, papers, and seales. this done, and for their better security, they caryed mee a little out of the way, and bound my naked body fast about the middle to an oaken tree, with wooden ropes, and my armes backward so likewise: swearing to me, that if i cryed for helpe, or marred them of their designes before the sun set, they would turne backe and kill me; promising then to set me free. [a joyfull deliverance from a desperate thraldome.] but night come, and i forgotten, was left here in a trembling feare, for wolves and wild boares till the morrow; where at last by gods providence i was relieved in the morning by a company of heards: who clothing me with an old long coat of theirs, and refreshing me with meat; one of them caryed me five leagues unto the lord of the ground, the baron of starhulds a moldavian protestant, with whom i stayed fifteene dayes: and was more than repaired of all my losses, by his owne bounty, and noble kinsmen, his neighbouring friends, and would not suffer mee to goe any further in the countrey, because of the turkes jealousie over strangers, in regard it was but lately wrested from a christian prince, with whom i was conversant at constantinople in sir thomas glover, the ambassadours house. well, i yeeld to the noble mans counsell, and giving him all dutifull thankes for his kind regards, he sent a guide with mee for two dayes journey through a part of podolia, the upmost countrey of polland, bordering with tartary. the halfe of which countrey i found left disinhabited and desolat by incursions of tartarians. here i determined to have entered in tartary, but finding no conduct nor assurance of my safety, i continued my course to crocavia, situat on the upper frontiers of polland bordering with hungary. tartary is thought to be sixe hundred leagues in length, confining eastward with china, to the south with the caspian sea, to the north with russia, and to the west with podolia, and moldavia. [the tartars are mighty oppressours of podolia in poland.] the tartars are not expert in warre, neither are they so valerous as the turkes, nor so manly as the polonians, who counter-blow them at rancounters; neverthelesse by stealth of inroades, they mightily suppresse the extreamest parts of polland. the turkes tearme the cham or emperour of tartary, vlakim, that is a great prince, and the moscovites call him catzar cataiski, to wit, the cæsar of cataia: and hee is so obeyed and reverenced among the tartars, that they intitulate him the sonne of god, the man of god, and the soule of god: yea, and the greatest oath that they thinke can be sworne, which they usually doe in matters of fidelitie and importance, is by his throne royall. this custome of idolatrous obeysance, came first by one rangavistah, who being chosen to be their emperour, would try their promptnesse and goodwill of obedience towards him, commanding seven of his chiefest princes, and head governours under him of the people, to kill their infants, with their owne hands. and notwithstanding the commandement seemed very rude and intollerable, yet they fearing the common people, who esteeme their emperours to be the divine kinsmen (as it were) of god; they did cut the throats every one of them, of their owne children, before his owne eyes, and the sight of the people. insomuch that ever since, the life and death of the tartars, depend upon the good-will and word of the king, which no way they dare contradict, such is the ignorant [a love not worthy thinks.] reverence they carry toward him. as for the idolatrous rites they use at his death, in inclosing or interring quicke in a vault neere to his tombe, one of every office that he loved best, being alive, to goe serve him in paradice; i will not meddle with it, neither with the vulgars superstition, who religiously feast upon the corpes of their aged parents, and then doe burne their bones into ashes, giving them such a buriall, as we give our witches; for indeede the wormes come short among the dead tartars of their foode. being arrived in crocko or crocavia, the capitall city of polland (though but of small importance) i met with diverse scotish merchants, who were wonderfull glade of mine arrival there, especially the two brothers dicksones, men of singular note for honesty and wealth. it was my lucke heere, to bee acquainted with count du torne, the first noble-man of boheme, who had newly broake out [the counte of torne fled from prage to poland.] of prison in prage, and fled hither from bohemia for safety. mathias then being emperour, against whom hee had highly offended in boasting him in his bed-chamber with hard and intollerable speeches: saying to mathias in his face, and before his wife the empresse: loe there is the right hand that helped to put the imperial crowne on thy head, and behold now there is my foote shall strike it off againe. this fugitive earle stayed me with him ten dayes to discourse, and beare him company, for then hee had but onely one follower that came post with him: i found him princely disposed in all things, and very familiar in his cariage: [this sigismond king of polland did marry two sisters of ferdinando now emperour.] at last his trayne and treasure comming with many other bohemian barons and gentlemen his friends, i humbly left him, and touching at lubilina where the judges of polland sit for halfe the yeare, i arrived at warsow, the resident place for the king sigismond who had newly married the other sister of his former wife being both sisters to this ferdinando now emperour: a match i dare say more fit for the savage sabuncks of lybia, than for a christian prince or shepheard. but it is no matter pope paulus quintus gave him licence, and in that liberty, a wide passage to purgatory: who, when dead that incestuous guilt will bee royally purged; loe there his pontificall absolution. betweene crocavia, and warsow lubilina; lying halfe way it is a hundred pollonian miles or french leagues: here i found abundance of gallant rich merchants my countrey-men, who were all very kind to me, and so were they by the way in every place where i came, the conclusion being ever sealed with deepe draughts, and god be with you. polland is a large and mighty kingdome, puissant in horse-men, and populous of strangers; being charged with a proud nobility, a familiar and manly gentry, and a ruvidous vulgarity: they are all for the most part, of square and thicke bodies, having bull-necks, great thighes and legs, grim and broad faces, and commonly their shaven heads are finely covered with overthwarting strokes of crooked shables: for they, and the armenians of asia are of stature and thicknesse the biggest, and grossest people the world affoordeth. the soyle is wonderfull fruitfull of cornes, so that this countrey is become the girnell of westerne europe for all sorts of graine, besides honey, waxe, flaxe, iron, and other commodities: and for auspicuousnesse, i may rather [polland is the nurse of scotlands common younglings.] tearme it to be a mother and nurse, for the youth and younglings of scotland, who are yearely sent hither in great numbers, than a proper dame for her owne birth; in cloathing, feeding, and inriching them with the fatnesse of her best things; besides thirty thousand scots families, that live incorporate in her bowells. and certainely polland may be tearmed in this kind, to be the mother of our commons, and the first commencement of all our best merchants wealth, or at the least most part of them. and now ceasing to peramble through any moe particulars of this familiar nation to us, i was kindly transported from warsow upon a waggon to dansick, being fifty leagues distant, with a generous young merchant william bailey my cliddisdale countrey man, to whose courtesies i still rest thankfull. here in dansick i fell deadly sicke for three weekes space, insomuch that my grave and tombe was prepared by my countrey-men there. neverthelesse in end (it pleased almighty god) i recovered my health, and then imbarked for alseynure in denmarke, where being better convalessed, i recoursed backe in a flemish pink to stockhollem: where after five or sixe dayes being there, and finding my sicknesse like to returne againe, and fearing the worst, i made hast for england. at last finding the commodity of an english shippe belonging to ratcliffe, wee hoysed sayle, and set forward through the sound, or belticke sea for alseynure agayne: whence after three dayes abode, bidding farwell to that tributary towne and castle, wee coasted the scurrile and rockey face of norway, at two severall parts, but not without great stormes, and contrary windes, yea and once finally indangered with a threatening shipwracke, which with good lucke we happily escaped. these tempestuous dangers past, upon the seaventh day the winds refavouring us, wee safely arrived at london, from whence i first began this voyage, and there ended my second peregination. magnum virtutis principium est, ut dixit paulatim exercitatus animus visibilia & transitoria primum commutare, ut post-modum possit derelinquere. delicatus ille est adhuc, cui patria dulcis est, fortis autem jam cui omne solum patria est: perfectus vero, cui mundus exilium est. the end of the second booke, of my second travailes. the tenth part contayning the third booke, of my third travailes. now swolne ambition, bred from curious toile invites my feet, to tread parch'd �thiops soile, to sight great prester jehan, and his empire; that mighty king, their prince, their priest, their sire; their lawes, religion, manners, life and frame, and amais, mount-rais'd, library of fame. well, i am sped, bids englands court adiew, and by the way the hiberne bounds i view; in whose defects, the truth like razor sharpe shall sadly tune, my new-string'd irish harpe: then scud i france, and crossed the pyrheneise at the columbian heights, which threat the skies; and coasting pampelon, i trac'd all spaine, from behobia, to jubile taure againe. then rest'd at malaga, where i was shent and taken for a spie, crush'd, rackt, and rent. where ah! (when treason tride) by fals position; they wrest'd on me their lawlesse inquisition: which after tortures, hunger, vermine gnashes, condemn'd me quick, stake-bound, to burn in ashes: gods providence comes in, and i'me discovered by merchants meanes, by aston last delivered: where noble maunsell, generall of that fleete, that i was rack't for; did kind halkins greete with strict command, to send me home for court, to show king james, my torments, pangs, and tort: loe i am come, to bath i'me sent, and more mine hoplesse life, made worlds my sight deplore; which here i'le sing, in tragicke tune to all that love the truth, and looke for babels fall. but now having finished the two descriptions, of my first and second adventures; it rests now most necessary, to relate the meritorious designe, and miserable effect of my third voyage. after i had (i say) by the great providence of god, escaped infinite dangers, by seas suffering thrice shipwracke, by land, in woods and on mountaynes often invaded; by ravenous beasts, crawling and venemous wormes daily incombred; by home-bred robbers, and remote savages; five times stripd to the skin; excessive fastidiousnesse, unspeakable adversities, parching heates, scorching drouth, intollerable distresses of hunger, imprisonments, and cold; yet all these almost incredible sufferings past, could never abate the flame of mine austiere affection conceived; but ambitious curiosity, exposing me to a third voyage, i may say as �neas did in his penetentiall mood: o socii neque enim ignari sumus ante malorum, o passi graviora, dabit deus his quoque finem. o socials! we're not ignorant of losses; o suffrings sad, god too, will end these crosses. but to observe a methodicall order, i thinke it best to show the unacquainted reader, a reasonable satisfaction for undertaking this third, and almost invincible attempt. first, the most speciall and urgent cause, proceeded from a necessary good (the necessity of knowledge) in the requisite perfection, of europes full and spacious sight, the ancient tierce, and now most christian world; wanting formerly no part thereof unseene, as well under the turke as christian, except ireland and the halfe of spaine. [certaine approved reasons.] the second cause was mooved, from a more insatiate content, that when i had, and having compassed all europe, my resolution, was to borrow a larger dimmense of ground in affricke then formerly i had done in twice before, even to �thiopia, prester jehans dominions. for the same effect, and a greater impression to my resolution, i set pen to paper, drawing from the distaffe of the retractable muses, a poeticall pamphelet; dedicated to themselves, to their profound apollo, his then hopefull heire, and diverse noble peeres of both kingdomes. and having from a royall favour obtayned his majesties letters and seales of safe conduct, and regall recommendation, to all kings, princes and dukes, &c. i in all obsequious humility, bad farewell, to this sequestrate and most auspicuous monarchy; and arriving at dublin in ireland, august the two and twenty, one thousand sixe hundred and nineteene, i saluted the right honorable sir oliver st johns late lord grandison, and then lord deputy there, from whom for regard and singular courtesies, i was greatly obliged: so was i also to many of the english nobility and knight hood there: who through the whole countrey where ever i came intertayned mee kindly, sending guides with mee from place to place; yea, and sometimes safe-guards also; beside in their houses great good-cheere and welcome: but in speciall a dutifull remembrance i owe, to the memory of that sometimes [the matchlesse lord cichester for vertue, wisdome, & valour.] judicious and religious lord arthur, late lord cichester, baron of belfast, &c. who in his time for vertue, wisedome, and valour, wore the dyademe of love, and garland of true noblenesse: of whom, and for whose losse, if i should more praise, and longer lament, my inke would turne to brinish teares, and i to helpelesse sorrow: but leaving him who lived in goodnesse here, and now in glory for ever, i celebrate these lines, to his eternall fame. if ever bounty shin'd in loyall brest? if ever judgment, flow'd from generous mouth? if ever vice-roy, rul'd this kingdome best? if ever valour, honour'd hopefull youth? if ever wisdome, astreas worth possest? if ever vertue, was inclin'd to rueth? if ever justice, enormities redrest? if ever patron, paterne was of truth? then noble cichester, the heavens assigne, these gifts (thy honour'd parts) were truely thine. and now after a generall surveigh of the whole kingdome, (the north-west part of canoch excepted) accomplished: from the . of september til the last of february; i found the goodnesse of the soyle, more then answerable to mine expectation, the defect only remayning (not speaking of our collonies) in the people, and from them, in the bosome of two gracelesse sisters, ignorance and sluggishnesse. [the foure provinces of ireland.] this kingdome is divided in foure provinces, although some allude five, that is, easterne and westerne maith, but they are understood to be annexed to leinster: their names are these, leinster, munster, ulster, and canoch: the south-most whereof, is munster a soile (and so is leinster in most parts) nothing inferiour, if seasonably manured, to the best grounds in england. the iland lyeth almost in a rotundo, being every way spacious; the greatest river whereof is shannon, whose course, amounteth to eight score miles, inclosing within it many little iles. and this i dare avow, there are moe rivers, lakes, brookes, strands, quagmires, bogs, and marishes, in this countrey, then in all christendome besides; for travalling there in the winter, all my dayly solace, was sincke down comfort; whiles boggy-plunging deepes kissing my horse belly; whiles over-mired saddle, body, and all; and often or ever set a swimming, in great danger, both i, and my guides of our lives: that for cloudy and fountayne-bred perils, i was never before reducted to such a floting laborinth. considering that in five moneths space, i quite spoyled sixe horses, and my selfe as tyred as the worst of them. and now i call to memory (not without derision) though i conceale the particular place and prelate; it was my fortune in the county of dunagale, to bee joviall with a bishop at his table, where after diverse discourses, my ghostly father grew offended with mee, for tearming of his wife mistresse: which, when understood, i both called her madame, and lady bishop: whereupon he grew more incensed; and leaving him unsatisfied; resolve me lector? if it be the custome heere or not? and if, amends shall repay over-sight, a ghostly wife, shall be still madam lady with me; if not, mine observed manner shall be mistresse. but now to come to my punctuall discourse of ireland; true it is, to make a fit comparison, the barbarian moore, the moorish spaniard, the turke, and the irish-man, are [the ignorant and sluggish life of the common irish.] the least industrious, and most sluggish livers under the sunne, for the vulgar irish i protest, live more miserably in their brutish fashion, then the undaunted, or untamed arabian, the divelish-idolatrous turcoman, or the moone-worshipping caramines: showing thereby a greater necessity they have to live, then any pleasure they have, or can have in their living. there fabrickes are advanced three or foure yardes high, pavillion-like incircling, erected in a singular frame, of smoake-torne straw, greene long prick'd truff, and raine-dropping watles. their several roomes of palatiat divisions, as chambers, halls, parlors, kitchins, barnes, and stables, are all inclosed in one, and that one (perhaps) in the midst of a mire; where, when in foule weather, scarcely can they finde a drye part, whereupon to repose, their cloud-baptized heads. their shirts be woven, of the wooll or linnen of their owne nature, and their penurious foode semblable, to their ruvid condition. and lastly, these onely titular christians, are so ignorant in their superstitious profession of popery, that neither they, nor the greatest part of their priests know, or understand, what the mistery of the masse is, which they dayly see, and the other celebrat, nor what the name of jesus is, either in his divine, or humane nature: aske him of his religion? he replyeth, what his father, his great grand-father were, that will he be also: and hundreds of better then the common sort, have demanded mee, if jerusalem, and christs sepulcher were in ireland, and if the holy land was contiguat with saint patrickes purgatory. [a foolish and superstitious errour.] they also at the sight of each new moone, (i speake it credibly) bequeath their cattell to her protection, obnixiously imploring the pale lady of the night, that shee will leave their bestiall in as good plight, as shee found them: and if sicke, scabbed, or sore, they solicitat her mayden-fac'd majesty to restore them to their health, in which absurdity, they far surmount the silly sabuncks, and garolinean moores of lybia: indeed of all things (besides their ignorance) i onely lamented their heavie bondage under three kind of masters; the land-lord for his rent, the minister for his tythes, and the romish priest for his fees: and remarke when their owne irish rent masters have any voyage for dublin, or peradventure superspended at home in feasting of strangers, then must these poore ones be taxed and afflicted with the supply of the devasted provision of their prodigall houses; otherwise in supporting their superfluous charges for dublin. o? what a slavish servitude doe these silly wretches indure, the most part of whom in all their lives, have never third part food, natures clothing, nor a secure shelter for the winter cold. the miserable sight whereof, and their sad sounding groanes, have often drawne a sorrowful remorse from my humane compassion. as for their gentry such as are brought up here at london, learne to become a great deale more civill, than these who are brought up at home, after their owne rude and accustomable manner: and this i observed, in my traversing the whole kingdome, i never saw one, or other, neither could move any of that selfe nation, to pledge or present his majesties health; but as many other healths as you list; they will both fasten, and receive from you, till they fall in the muddy hotch potch of their dead grandfathers understanding: indeed for entertainment of strangers they are freely disposed, and there gentlemen of any good sort, reserve ever in their houses, spanish sack, and irish uscova, and will be as tipsy with their wives, their priests, and their friends, as though they were naturaly infeft, in the eleven royall tavernes of naples. [two intollerable abuses in ireland.] and now amongst many, there are two intollerable abuses of protections in that kingdome: the one of theeves and woodcarnes, the other of priests and papists: i discourse of these corruptions now, as i found them then. the first is prejudiciall to all christian civillnesse tranquill government, and a great discouragment for our collonizd plantators there, belonging to both soyles of this iland, being dayly molested, and nightly incombered with these blood-sucking rebells. and notwithstanding of their barbarous crueltie, ever executed at all advantages, with slaughter and murder upon the scots and english dwellers there; yet they have and find at their owne wills symonaicall protections, for lesser or longer times; ever as the confused disposers, have their law-sold hands, filled with the bloody bribes of slaughtered lives, high-way, and house-robbed people: and then thereafter their ill got meanes being spent, like unto dogs, they returne backe to their former vomit; so jugling with their in, and outgoings, like to the restlesse ocean, that they cannot, nor never did, become true [the filthy corruption of irish priests and wood-carnes, theevish rebells.] subjects to our king, nor faithfull friends to their countrey: unlesse by extremity of justice, the one still hanged before the other, the remanent by the gallowes may examplifie amendment, contrarywise that land shall never be quiet: for these villanous woodcarnes are but the hounds of their hunting priests, against what faction soever, their malicious malignity is intended: partly for intertaynement, partly for particular splenes, and lastly, for a general disturbance of the countrey, for the priests greater security and stay. the other abuse is, their libertinous masses, the redresse whereof, i first to the heavens, and then to my prince bequeath: whose sabboth recusant mony, whereof they bragge (as they say) in derision of our luke-warme dispensation, tendeth to none other purpose, but to obumbrat the true light of the gospell, and to feed their absurd, and almost irrevocable ignorance. and neverthelesse at their dayly meetings (experience taught mee) there was never a more repining people against our prince and church as they be: for in this presumption a twofold cause arriseth, want of zeale, and church discipline in our part, and the officious nine penny masse on their part: yea, all, and each of them, so exacted and compounded with at higher or lower rates, as the officers in this nature please. the distribution whereof i nowaies paralell to the sleight concaviating veynes of the earth, nor the sole supply of high-rising atlas, neither to invelope the perpendiculars of long-reaching caucasus: howsoever tect-demolished churches, unpassable bridges, indigent schollers, and distressed families be supported there-with, i am as cleare of it as they, although i smart by the contrary confusion. but leaving this and observing my method, i remember i saw in irelands north-parts, two remarkable sights: [a bad and uncivill husbandry in ireland.] the one was their manner of tillage, ploughes drawne by horse-tayles, wanting garnishing, they are only fastned, with straw, or wooden ropes to their bare rumps, marching all side for side, three or foure in a ranke, and as many men hanging by the ends of that untoward labour. it is as bad a husbandry i say, as ever i found among the wildest savages alive; for the caramins, who understand not the civill forme of agriculture; yet they delve, hollow, and turne over the ground, with manuall and wooden instruments: but they the irish have thousands of both kingdomes daily labouring beside them; yet they can not learne, because they wil not learne, to use garnishing, so obstinate they are in their barbarous consuetude, unlesse punishment and penalties were inflicted; and yet most of them are content to pay twenty shillings a yeare, before they wil change their custome. [northerne irish women giving sucke to their babes behind their shoulders.] the other as goodly sight i saw, was women travayling the way, or toyling at home, carry their infants about their neckes, and laying the dugges over their shoulders, would give sucke to the babes behinde their backes, without taking them in their armes: such kind of breasts, me thinketh were very fit, to be made money bags for east or west-indian merchants, being more then halfe a yard long, and as wel wrought, as any tanner, in the like charge, could ever mollifie such leather. as for any other customes they have, to avoyd prolixitie i spare; onely, before my pen flee over seas, i would gladly shake hands with some of our churchmen there, for better are the wounds of a friend, than the sweet smiles of a flatterer, for love and trueth can not dissemble. many dissembling impudents intrude themselves in this high calling of god, who are not truely, neither worthily thereunto called; the ground here arrising either from a carnall or carelesse presumption, otherwise from needy greed, and lacke of bodily maintenance. [an ecclesiasticke corruption in unlawfull preachers.] such is now the corruption of time, that i know here even mechanick men admitted in the place of pastors: yea, and rude bred souldiers whose education was at the musket mouth, are become there, both lybian grave, and unlearned church-men: nay; besides them professed; indeed professed schollers: whose warbling mouthes ingorged with spoonefuls of bruised latine, seldome or never expressed, unlesse the force of quaffing, spew it forth from their empty sculles: such i say, interclude their doctrine, betweene the thatch and the church-wall tops; and yet their smallest stipends shall amount to one, two, three, or foure hundred pounds a yeare. whereupon you may demand mee, how spend they, or how deserve they this? i answer, their deserts are nought, and the fruite thereof as naughtily spent: for sermons and prayers they never have any, neither never preached any, nor can preach. and although some could, as perhaps they seeming would, they shall have no auditour (as they say) but bare walles, the plants of their parishes, being the rootes of mere irish. as concerning their cariage, in spending such sacrilegious fees, the course is thus. the alehouse is their church, the irish priests their consorts, their auditors be fill and fetch more, their text spanish sacke, their prayers carrousing, their singing of psalmes the whiffing of tobacco, their last blessing aqua vitæ, and all their doctrine, sound drunkenesse. [a flattering covenant twixt ministers and masse priests.] and whensoever these parties meete, their parting is dane-like from a dutch pot, and the minister stil purse bearer defrayeth all charges for the priest: arguments of religion, like podolian polonians they succumbe; their conference onely pleading mutuall forbearance; the minister affrayed of the priests wood-carnes, and the priests as fearefull of the ministers apprehending, or denoting them; contracting thereby a gibeonized covenant, yea, and for more submissions sake, hee will give way to the priest to mumble masse in his church, where hee in all his life made never prayer nor sermon. loe there are some of the abuses of our late weake, and stragling ecclesiasticks there, and the soule-sunke sorrow of godlesse epicures and hypocrites. to all which, and much more have i beene an occular testator, and sometimes a constrayned consociat to their companeonry; yet not so much inforced, as desirous to know the behaviour and conversation of such mercenary jebusites. great god amend it, for it is great pitty to behold it, and if it continue so still, as when i saw them last; o farre better it were! that these ill bestowed tythes, and church-wall rents, were distributed to the poore, and needy, than to suffocate the swine-fed bellies of such idle and prophane parasits. and here another generall abuse, i observed that whensoever any irish dye, the friend of the defunct (besides other fees) paying twenty shillings to the english curat, shall get the corpes of the disceased to be buryed within the church, yea often, even under the pulpit foote: and for lucre interred in gods sanctuary when dead, who when alive would never approach, nor enter the gates of sion; to worshipe the lord, nor conforme themselves to true religion. truely such and the like abuses, and evill examples of lewd lives, have beene the greatest hinderance of that lands conversion; for such like wolves have beene from time to time, but stumbling blocks before them; regarding more their owne sensuall and licentious ends, than the glory of god, in converting of one soule unto his church. [ministeriall offices strangely abused.] now as concerning the conscionable carriage of the hybernian clergy, aske mee, and there my reply: as many of them (for the most part) as are protestant ministers, have their wives, children, and servants invested papists; and many of these church-men at the houre of their death (like dogges) returne backe to their former vomit: witnesse the late viccar of calin (belonging to the late and last, richard, earle of desmond,) who being on death bed, and having two hundred pounds a yeare; finding him selfe to forsake both life and stipend, send straight for a romish priest, and received the papall sacrament: confessing freely in my audience, that hee had beene a romane catholick all his life, dissembling onely with his religion, for the better maintaining of his wife and children. and being brought to his buriall place, hee was interred in the church, with the which hee had played the ruffian all his life; being openly carryed at mid-day with jesuits, priests, and friers of his owne nation, and after a contemptible manner in derision of our profession, and lawes of the kingdome. infinite moe examples of this kind could i recite, and the like resemblances of some being alive; but i respectively suspend (wishing a reformation of such deformation) and so concludeth this clergicall corruption there. yet i would not have the reader to thinke that i condemne all our clergie there, no god forbid, for i know there are many sound and religious preachers of both kingdomes among them, who make conscience of their calling, and live as lanthorns to uncapable ignorants, and to those stragling stoicks i complayne of, condemnatory judges; for it is a grievous thing to see incapable men, to jugle with the high mysteries of mans salvation. [my departure from ireland to france.] and now after the fastidious ending of a tempestuous raine-sacking toyle, i imbarked at yoghall in munster, february . . in a little french pinke bound for st. mallo in bretagne. where, when transported, i set face to paris, where i found the workes of two scelerat and perverst authors: the one of which had disdainefully wrot against the life and raigne of queene elizabeth of sempiternall renowne: the other ignominiously, upon the death of our late queene anne of ever blessed memory. the circumstances whereof, i will not avouch, since malaga detaineth the notes of their abjured names, and perfidiat paines. a just reward (may i say) refounded, upon these fond conceites, you have of the fantasticke french: especially these superstitious straglers heere; who, when they have sucked the milke of their selfe ends, and your lavish liberalities without desert; returne a kicke with their heeles (like to the colt of an asse) in your teeth agayne. and there your meritorious thankes, and their shamefull slaunders, in acquittance of your vayne expence. [the fantastick foolery of the french.] tell me, if you be tyed like apes to imitate their ever-changing humours? and can you draw from them (in any art or cariage) a greater draught, then they draw from the italian, for first they be imitators; next, mutators; thirdly, temptators; and lastly, your plantators, in all the varieties of vanity. have you a desire to learne modestly to daunce, skilfully to fence, dexteriously to manage great horses, view forraine sights, learne languages, humane policies, and the like conducements: then rather reach, the fountaine, whence they flow, whence science, arts, and practise lively grow; than sucke the streames, of separate distasts, he well derives, his labour never wasts; fond fooles affect, what foolery fooles effect, the sequell sight, than sense, doth more infect. besides these two infamous authors, what hath edee, the idea of a knave, (and gentle man of the french privy chamber) done; who like a wood weather cocke, and giddy headed foole, (full of deficient vapours) hath shamefully stayned with his shamelesse pen, the light of this kingdome, which now i omit to avouch till a fitter time. thus, they fondly write, thus they pratle, thus they sing, thus they daunce, thus they brangle, thus they dally in capritziat humours, and thus they vary, in the fleering conceite of sa, sa, sa, sa, sa, far beyond the inconstancy of all female inconstancies. but to conclude this epitome of france, three things [certaine caveats for strangers, that goe to france.] i wish the way-faring man to prevent there: first, the eating of victuals, and drinking of wine without price making; least (when he hath done) for the stridor of his teeth his charges be redoubled. next to choose his lodging (if it fall out in any way-standing taverne) far from palludiat ditches, least the vehemency of chirking frogs, vexe the wish'd-for repose of his fatigated body, and cast him in a vigilant perplexity. and lastly, unlesse earely hee would arise, i never wish him to lye neere the fore-streetes of a towne; because of the disturbant clamours of the peasant samboies or nayle-woodden shoes: whose noyse like an æquivox, resembleth the clashing armour of armies; or the clangour of the ulyssen-tumbling horse to fatall troy. but now to my purpose, leaving paris behind me, i arrived at pau in bearne. this province is a principality of it selfe, anciently annexed to the kingdom of navarre: lying betweene the higher gascony of guyan, and the pyrhenei mountaynes of baske, bordering with the north parts of navarre: both of which, belongeth to the french king, except a little of baske toward the columbian alpes, and that the spaniard commandeth. pau is the justice seate of bearne, having a goodly castle, situate on an artificiall rocke; and in this place was that martial henry du burbone la quatriesme borne, than king of navarre. here be the finest gardens in christendome, the gardens of pretolino ( . miles from florence) only excepted. yet for faire arbors, spacious over-siling walkes, and incorporate trees of interchanging growths, it surpasseth pretolino: but the other for the variety of fructiferous trees, rare and admirable ponds, artificial fountaynes; diana, and her allabaster nymphly-portrayed trayne, the counter-banding force of agvadotti, and the exquisite banqueting roome, contrived among sounding unseene waters, in forme of gargantus body, it much excelleth pau. [biscai in spayne is a scurrile countrey.] hence, i discended the river of orthes to baion, and crossing the river behobia, which divideth france and spaine, i entered in biscai june . . this is a mountaynous and invincible countrey, (of which victoria is the chiefe city) being a barren and almost unprofitable soyle. the speciall commodities whereof, are sheep, woole as soft as silke, goates, and excellent good iron: cornes they have none, or little at all, neither wine, but what is brought from navarre in pelagoes or swineskins, carried on mulets backes. leaving biscai, i entred navarre, and came to pampelona its metropolitane citty: here i found the poorest viceroy (nomen sine re) with the least meanes to maintaine him, that ever the world affoorded such a stile. navarre is but a little kingdome, amounting in length (with the south pendicles of the high pirhenese) to twenty three leagues: that is, betweene porto di st. joanne in baske, and grono upon the river hebro, dividing the old castilia and navarre. in breadth it extendeth to seaventeene leagues, that is betweene varen in biscai, and terrafranca in arragon: the soyle is indifferent fertile of cornes and wines. from thence i set east-ward to syragusa, the capitall seate of arragon. arragon, hath navarre to the west, south valentia kingdome, east, and south-east catalogna; and on the north the alpes pyrhenese. it is an auncient and famous kingdome, under whose jurisdiction, were both the petty kingdomes of valentia, & barselona: and not long ago traduced to the castilian king by marriage. for although castilia hath the language, they have the lineall dissent of the romans; the inhabitants whereof being instinctively endued with all humane affabilities. from thence returning through the old castilia, or kingdome of burgos, in the way to st. iago of compostella in galitia: it was my fortune, at st. domingo to enter the towne-church: accompanied with two french puppies, mindfull to shew me a miraculous matter. where, when come, i espied over my head opposit to the great altar, two milke white hennes, enraveled in [a leying miracle.] an iron cage, on the inner side of the porches promontore. and demanding why they were kept? or what they signified? certaine spaniards replyed come along with us, and you shall see the storie, and being brought to the (choro) it was drawne thereon as followeth. the father and the sonne, two burboneons of france; going in pilgrimage to st. james, it was their lot to lodge here in an inne: where supper ended, and reckoning payed, the host perceiving their denariat charge, he entered their chamber, when they were a sleepe, and in bed, conveying his owne purse in the young mans budget. to morrow earely; the two innocent pilgrimes, footing the hard bruising way, were quickly over-hied by the justice; where the host making search for his purse, found it in the sonnes bagge. whereupon instantly, and in the same place hee was hanged, and left hanging there, seazing on their money be a sententiall forfeiture. the sorrowfull father (notwithstanding) continued his pilgrimage to compostella. where, when come, and devotion made, our lady of mount serata appeared to him saying: thy prayers are heard, and thy groanes have pierced my heart, arise, and returne to saint domingo for thy sonne liveth. and hee accordingly returned, found it so, and the sonne-hanged monster, after . dayes absence, spoke thus from the gallowes, father, goe to our host, and shew him i live, then speedily returne. by which direction the old man entred the towne, and finding the host at table, in breaking up of two roasted pullets, [a damnable delusion of a divellish miracle.] told him, and sayd: my sonne liveth, come and see. to which the smiling host replyed, he is as surely alive on the gallowes, as these two pullets be alive in the dish. at which protestation, the two fire-scorched fowles leapt out suddainly alive, with heads, wings, feathers, and feet, and kekling, tooke flight thrice about the table. the which amazing sight, made the astonished host to confesse his guiltines; and the other relieved from the rope, he was hung up in his place, allotting his house for an hospitality to pilgrimes for ever. there are still two hennes reserved here, in memory of this miracle, and aye changed, as they grow fat for the priests chops, being freely given to the place. and i dare swearing say, these priests eate fatter hennes, than don phillipo him selfe, they being fed by the peoples devotion, at their enterance to the morning and evening sacrifices, and are tearmed holy hennes. infinite paper could i blot, with relating the like absurdities, and miraculous lies of the romane church, but leaving them till a fitter occasion, i proceed. from thence traversing a great part of the higher asturia, i entred in galitia, and found the countrey so barren, the people so poore, and victuals so scarce, that this importunate inforcement, withdrew me from s. jacques, to portugale: where i found little better, or lesser reliefe, their soyles being absolute sterile, desartuous, and mountainous. [the kingdome of portugale.] portugale was formerly called lusitania, and hispania, ulteriora: it is in length . miles, large . and sometimes under: in the moorish domination it was divided in two kingdomes, the one reserveth the name of all; the other was called agarbas: a word arabick that signifieth the part occidentall: and were divided with the river guadion, and the two castles odebera, and aleotino: agarbas was toward the south, & portugale northward. portugale is now confined on the south, and south-east with andolusia: west and south-west, the maine ocean. galitia to the north: and eastward the old and new castilia. after twenty dayes fastidious climbing in this kingdome, i returned to salamancha in castilia vecchia; the sacerdotall university of spaine, whence springeth these flockes of studientes, that over-swarme the whole land with rogueries, robberies, and begging. from thence traversing the alpes of siera de caderama, (which divide the two castilias) i discended the south side of the mountaines, and arrived at the escurial; where then late king phillip the third, had his residence. [the palace of escuriall.] this pallace standeth alone, and founded upon the skirt of a perpendicular hill of caderama, squared out from a devalling steepnesse, having a large prospect southwardly towards the evenise mountaines beyond toledo. this palatiat cloyster is quadrangled foure stories high, the uppermost whereof, is window-set in the blew tecture: the stone worke below, having three rankes of larger windowes, incircling the whole quadrangles, and french-like high rigged. at every spacious squadrat corner, there is an high turret erected, above the coverture, whose tops beare each of them a golden globe. in the middle court standeth a round incorporate church, arising outward in a rotundo, with a wide leaden top, and on each side thereof a squadrat steeple, higher then the round, making a goodly shew. it hath neither outward walles nor gates, but the two selfe doores of the eleven incloystered petty courts, save onely some office houses without, and they stand alone by the hill broken side. [escurial is rather a monastery than palace.] i may rather tearme it a monastery, then a kingly pallace, having a hundred and fifty monkes, chartuzians, of st. hieronimoes order living within it; the king onely remaining in a private corner, at his comming thither. nay at that instant, he was so private that before i saw his face, i could not beleeve, that the patrone of so great a monarchy, could be so quiet; yea, as quiet as a countrey baron is with us, and had lived so nine weekes before. the house it selfe i confesse, excelleth in beauty, that constantinopolitan seralia, of the great turke: though not in divisions, and ground distances, yet for a maine incorporate house, and was builded by king philip the second, standing seven leagues from madrile, to which i arrived. here is the residence of the court though formerly at valladoli: madrid or madrile, is the center or middle part of spaine, situate in the kingdome of toledo, the new castilia. and distant from lisbone in portugale westward one hundred leagues: from sevilia in andoluzia ninety leagues: from grenada southward, sixty eight leagues: barselona in catalogna, east, south-eastward one hundred leagues: from valentia fifty leagues: from siragusa in arragon eastward fifty three leagues: from saint sebastian in biscai north-westward seventy leagues: and from pampelona in navarre, north-eastward, forty nine leagues. spaine generally, is a masse of mountaines, a barren ill manured soyle: neither well inhabited nor populous: yea, so desartuous that in the very heart of spaine, i have gone eighteene leagues, (two dayes journey) unseeing house or village, except two ventas, tavernes. and commonly eight leagues without any house: villages be so farre distant, the rockie seraes or alpes so innumerable. [it is miserable travelling in spaine.] it is miserable travelling, lesse profitable, in these ten provinces, or petty kingdomes, hard lodging and poore, great scarcity of beds and deare: and no ready drest diet, unlesse you buy it raw; and cause dresse, or dresse it your selfe, buying first in one place your fire, your meate from the butcher, your bread from the baker, your wine from the taverne, your fruites, oyle, and hearbes from the botega, carying all to the last place, your bed-lodging: thus must the weary stranger toile, or else fast: and in infinite places for gold nor money can have no victuals; but restrained to a relenting jejunation. the high-minded spaniard and their high topped mountaines, have an infused contention together. the one through arrogant ambition, would invade the whole earth to inlarge his dominions: the other by a steepe swolne hight, seeme to threaten the heavens to pull down jupiter from his throne. and as i take it, the spaniard being of a low stature, borroweth his high-minded breast from the high topped mountaines, for the one in quality, and the other in quantity, be extraordinarily infounded. certaine it is, as the spaniard in all things standeth mainely upon his reputation (but never to avouch it with single combat) so he vaunteth not a little of his antiquity, deriving his pedegree from tubal, the nephew of noe. but (especially as they draw it) how often hath the line of tubal, beene bastarded, degenerated, and quite expelled, by invasions of phænicians, oppressions of the greekes, incursiones of the carthaginians, the conquest and planting of provinces, and colonies of the romanes, the general deluge of the gothes, hunnes, and vandales: and lastly, [the long captivity of the spaniards under the mores.] by the long and intolerable tyranny of the moores, whose slavish yoake and bondage in . yeares, hee could scarcely shake off; his owne histories beare sufficient testimony and record. then it is manifest, that this mixture of nations, must of necessity make a compounded nature, such as having affinity with many, have no perfection in any one. their manners are conformable to their discent, and their conditionall vertues semblable to their last and longest conquerors, of whom they retayne the truest stampe. the most penurious peasants in the world be heere, whose quotidian moanes, might draw teares from stones. their villages stand as wast like as the sabunck, garamont, or arabian pavilleons, wanting gardens, hedges, closses, barnes, or backe-sides: this sluggish and idle husbandry, being a natural instinct of their neighbour or paternal moores. as for industrious artes, inventions, and vertues, they are as dull thereof, as their late predecessours: and truely i confesse for the spanish nunne, she is more holy then the italian; the former are onely reserved to the friers, and priests: the latter being more noble, have most affinity with gentle-men. the spaniard is of a spare dyet and temperate, if at his owne cost he spend; but if given gratis, he hath the longest tuskes that ever stroke at table. after a doubtfull and dangerous departure from madrid (as sir walter aston his majesties ambassador can testifie with his followers, as some of his people have already here done the same,) being the drift of my owne country-men, i came to toledo twelve leagues distant from thence: this citty is situate on a ragged rocke upon the river tagus, being an arch-bishops seate, the primat and metropolitan sea of all spaine: yet a miserably impoverished and deformed place. [naked ambition conferred upon poore toledo.] and although the spaniard, of all townes in spaine, braggeth most of toledo, it is neyther (doubtlesse i know) for beauty, bounds, nor wealth, if not for the intrado belongeth to it, amounting yearely (as they affirme) to duckats; for there is no other episcopal seate, in all castilia, or kingdome of toledo. giving backe to toledo, i crossed the crossing siera de morada, (which divideth the kingdome of grenada, from the mansha of the new castilia) and arrived at grenada, the capital of andolusia. here had the moores their last residence in spaine, and was magnanimously recovered, anno . yeares, by ferdinando the castilian king, and his wife isabella. it standeth at the foote of siera de nevada (the snowy alpes,) who reserve continually snow on their tops, and partly inclosed betweene two snow-melting rivers. in this citty is the principall seate, and colledge of justice, of all south spaine: as valladoli is for the north of spaine, the high court of madrid having prerogative over both. it hath a spacious and strong castle, which was builded by the moores, and indeede a kingly mansion: where i saw the hals and bed-chambers of the moorish kings, most exquisitly, over-siled, and indented with mosaicall worke; excelling farre any moderne industry whatsoever. the emperour charles the fift, and king of spaine; after his returne from that misfortunate voyage of algier, left a monument here, never likely to have beene accomplished, that is, the foundation of an admirable worke advanced two stories high: without it is quadrangled, and within round; having two degrees of incircling promontores, supported by marble pillars, and allabaster arches. being dismissed here, it was my fortune at antecara to [mr. woodson a london merchant.] encounter with a merchant, (m. woodson a londoner,) newly come from venice, and bound to malaga. with whom desirously accompanied, the day following being sunday, with sore travayle wee came within night to malaga, and thereafter parting to our severall lodgings, the next morning i addressed my selfe to the shoare side; where i had notice given me, of a french ship belonging to tolon in provance, that was lying in the mould, and shortly bound for alexandria: and finding that transportation most convenient for my designe (my safest course lying through �gypt and the red sea, for prester jehans dominions and court) i presently made bargaine with the ships-master, for my passage and victuals. and now attending my departure thence, uppon the fift day after my comming hither anno . october . the english fleete that went agaynst the pyrats of algier, gave anchor at mid-night in the roade: whose suddaine comming, yeelded no small feare to the affrighted towne, mistaking them for turkes; for the two castle-bells ringing backe-ward, the thundring drums resounding, and the towne all the latter night in armes, bred such [malaga affrighted with the english fleet.] disturbant despaire to their families, and distraction to themselves, that their wives and children fled to the higher castle without the towne; and i a stayd consort with the defendants till day light. but morning come, and the english colours discovered, don jaspar ruiz de peredas the governour, went aboord of the english generall sir robert maunsell; where after congratulating complements, he being returned a shoare, dismissed the burgers and their armes. in that afternoone, and the day following beeing satturday, there came hundreds a shoare of my speciall friends, and olde familiars, londoners, and courtiers, with whom desirously met, we were joviall together, till sunday morning: where then i went aboord of the lyon, his majesties ship, and saluted the generall, who kindly intertained mee to the next day, that the fleete was divided in three squaders, and he under sayle, and then unhappily came i a shoare in a fisher boate, to my deare bought destruction, beeing sore agaynst the generals will, but that i should have gone with him to algier: save onely that my linnen, letters, and sacket was lying in my hostery, and so could not go: but what shal i say? quod fortuna dedit, nemo tollere potest. and so now followeth the sorrowfull relations of my tragicall sufferings, which as briefly as i may, i shall succinctly avouch, although the larger, the better to be understood. sad soule mixe truth, with grave and prompe discourse let passiones be, this tragicke stile must rest on faith and patience, columnes of secourse, which underprop'd my sufferings here exprest: lord weigh my words, with wisdome, give me grace in all this worke, to give thy glory place. i was no sooner entred the towne, and drawing up a private way to my lodging, to shunne company and acquaintance, for that night was i to have imbarked for alexandria, but i was suddenly surprised in that narrow depopulated street, with nine alguozilos, sergeants, who inclosing mee on both sides layd violent hands on mee, wrapping me up in a blacke frizado cloake, and gripping my throat to stop my crying, they carryed me on their armes to the governours house, and inclosed me in a low parlour. [a sad request to a mercilesse governour.] to which when the governour came, for i was acquainted with him before i sadly spoke, saying, my most noble governour, and worthy lord, i humbly beseech your goodnes to shew me, for what offence or cause, i am thus violently brought before you, knowing that in me, and from my carriage, there is no injury committed. whereat, without answer, and shaking his head, he caused inclose mee in a little cabinet within the parlour, till he went for masse, commanding them with all possible dilligence to fetch hither, the captaine of the towne don francesco, di cordova, the alcade major, and the states scrivan, enjoyning them to conceale my apprehending till further tryal under the paine of death. at last he from the masse, and they come hither, the sergeants were dismissed, the doores made fast, and i was brought forth before these foure cavalliers, all placed in chayres, and the scrivan-table set, with pen and paper to write my confession. where after long silence, the governour asked mee of my nation, and how long, and how often i had beene out of my country: and whether i was bound? and how long i had beene in spaine. to whom i punctually returned my dividuat answers: whereupon being inclosed in my former cabinet, within a while don francesco entred my roome, demanding mee if i had beene in civilia, or was come from it; and clapping my cheeks with a judas-smile made this entreaty. my deare brother, and gallant companion, confesse freely that you have beene in civilia, for your countenance bewrayeth, there are some hidden purposes in the closet of your breast; and para fuyr mas malo, you had best in time relate to mee the trueth. whereat i saying no, as truth acquired, he went back, resolving them of my stiffe denyall, and they therewith incensed, i was invited to their former presence, and maine accusations ensuing. [a tyrannical constrayned oath.] first the governour made me sweare and hold up my hand, that i should tell the particular trueth of every thing hee was to demand of mee; which indeed i did according to my knowledge. then he inquired if the english generall, was a duke, or great signior, and what could be the reason, that he refused to come a shoare there; for that was the first impression of their false conceived jealousie. next; he asked mee, if i knew his name, and the other captaines and what their names were? and what their intention was? or if i had knowne of their comming abroad, or preparation for it, before my departure from england. the scrivan writing downe meanewhile every word he spoke and what i answered: well; to all the former particulars giving condigne satisfaction, and to the last, denying that i knew of the forth comming of the fleet, they all foure gave a shout in the contrary. whereupon the governour swearing, cursed and said, thou leyest like a villane, thou art a spy and a traytor, and camest directly from england of purpose to spaine; and hath beene lying nine moneths in sivilia, getting sure intelligence, when the spanish navy was looked for from the indies; and that thou expressely heere, came to meete with the english armado, (knowing of their dyet) to give them credible knowledge thereof: and that by thy information, they might the more readily compasse their endes, and thus thy treachery and subtilty, hath beene imployed. whereat i being astonished, and seriously answering for the intention of the english fleete, and my owne [the english acquaintaynce, my greatest hinderance.] innocency concerning them: he threatning sayd, i was seene familiar a boord and a shoare, with the whole captaines, and knowne to be of their speciall acquaintance: besides three hundred other gentle-men, and mariners with whom, and they with thee, were so inward, that it far exceeded the kindnes of accidentall meeting. all this we saw, and hourely remarked (sayd hee) and thou art newly come from the generall, when thou wast taken, where consulting with their counsell of warre this morning, (concerning what they assigned thee to accomplish) thou hast delivered thy opinion, and the expectation of sivilia, touching the returne of his majesties armado di plato; and therefore thou art a spiono, a traytor, and a scelerate velacco: for wee are not ignorant (sayd he) of the burning of st. thome in the west indies; for there and then, wee had a certaine evidence of the english infidelity, and treacherous exploytes in time of peace: wherefore these lutheranes and sonnes of the divell, ought not from us good catholickes to receive no credit. whereupon i besought him, to send for some sufficient english factors, there sojourning, who would testifie the contrary in my behalfe, their countrey, and their fleete, but that he would not, for my being discovered. at last seeing his damnable opinion, and to cleare my selfe of such false imputations: i requested him to send a sergeant to my posado or lodging for my clogbag, where hee should see a more evident testimony of my carriage and honest purpose, and thereupon the approbation of my prince. this demaund liked him well, thinking thereby to finde out all the secrets and practises of my negotiation with the english fleete: whereupon forthwith, and with close circumspection he had it brought unto him, my hostage [his majesties letters and seales misregarded.] house not knowing where i was. the clogbag i opened my selfe, and showing him his majesties letters in parchment, and under his hand and seale, dated at theobals . july . and compiled and wrot by m. thomas red, then secretary for the latine tongue, done in my behalfe, and my intended resolution for �thiopia, the kings safe conduct he mis-regarded, giving it neyther respect nor trust. after which, i show'd him divers patents, seales, and the great seale of jerusalem, pasports, and my booke of armes, called liber amicorum, wherein, i had the hand-writs, and armes of sundry kings, dukes, princes, vice-royes, marquesses, earles, lords, and governors, &c. done in prose and verse, in greeke, latine, or their maternall tongues, being as propitious pledges of their favour, in commendation of me, and of my travailes. but all these would not satisfie him, nay, rather confirming a greater jealousie of his former suspition: whereupon misconstruing all, they seased absolutely upon my clog-bag, viewing, and detayning all i had at their pleasure; including me the third time. this done, and within night, beeing represented againe, the governour commaunded me to subscribe my confession, which i voluntarily obeyed; though they still urged me further and further to confesse. meanewhile these foure complices consulting about my imprisonment, the alcalde or chiefe justice would have had me along with him to the town jayle, but the corrigidor refused saying, para non star visto con sus pesanos: that hee may not bee seene by his country-men, it behoveth me to have a care of his concealement: and i warrant you (sayd he) i shal lodge him well enough. [an injust robbery by unjust judges.] upon the knowledge of this, that i was secretly to be incarcerate in the governours palace, entred the m. sergeant, and begged my mony, and lycence to search it: and liberty granted hee found in my pockets eleaven philippoes or ducatons; and then uncloathing me before their eyes, even to my shirt, and searching my breeches, he found in my doublet necke, fast shut betweene two canvesses, . double peeces of gold. whereat the corrigidor arose and counting my gold, being . duccats, he sayd to the sergeant, cloath him againe, and inclose him there in the cabinet till after supper. meanewhile the sergeant got the . duccatons of silver; and my gold, which was to take me for �thiopia, the governour seased upon; giving afterwards . crownes of it to supply the new layd foundation of a capuschine monastery there, reserving the rest (being . duccats) for his owne avaricious ends. this done, and mid-night come, the sergeant and two turkish slaves releasing mee from the inferiour roome, brought mee through certayne ascending passages, to a chamber, in a sequestrate side of the palace, toward the garden, and right above his summer kitchen: where there, and then, the sergeants, and the two slaves, thrust [and here is the embleme of my misery.] on every ancle an heavy bolt, my legs being put to the full stride, by a mayne gad of iron far above a yard long, upon the endes of which the two bolts depended, that were fastned about my legs. insomuch, that i could never sit up, nor walke, nor stand, nor turne me; but lay continually on my backe, the irons being thrice heavier then my body. [a miserable & helplesse lamentation.] whereupon beholding my inevitable misery, and such monster-made irons my sighing soule deplored thus: alas sergeant, and you two slaves, remarke in me the just judgements of god; and loe how the heavens have reducted me to this meritorious reward, and truely deserved; for i have dearely and truly bought it; that i whose legges and feete the whole universe could scarcely contayne, now these bolts and irons keepe them fast, in a body length, of a stone-paved floore. o foolish pride, o suppressing ambition! and vaporous curiosity! woe worth the fury of your aspiring vanities; you have taken mee over the face of the earth, and now left me in a dungeon hole: my soule, o my soule is leager unto this proverbe, man proposeth, and god disposeth: o happy had i beene, thrice happy in a shepheards life. thus, and more lamenting the destiny of nature, they left mee with solacious words, and straight returned againe with victuals; being a pound of boyl'd mutton, a wheat bread, and a small pint of wine: which was the first, the best, and the last of this kinde, that ever i got in that woefull mansion. the sergeant leaving me (never seeing him more, till a more unwelcomed sight) hee directed the slaves, that after i had contented my discontented appetite, they should locke the doore, and carry the keyes to areta, a spaniard and keeper of the silver plate. a little while after he was gone, the other drudge left me also, who was newly turned christian: where being alone with hazier the naturall turke, who was to attend me, feede me, and keepe me, lying nightly a constrayned centinell, without the doore of my imprisonment; hee demanded me for what cause i was committed, and what malefact i was guilty of? to whom i answered, onely for a naked suspition, mistaking the honorable intention of the english armado, i am as a spy apprehended, and falsely accused. [the mourning of hazier a turkish slave.] whereupon the silly slave falling downe on his knees, held up his hands, crying, hermano, hermano, es muy grand menester, par a tomar pacenza, &c. brother, brother, it is much needfull for you to take all in patience, for it is impossible now you can escape, some fearefull tryall, and thereupon a horrible punishment even unto death; and alasse to relieve you, if i durst, (as i dare not under death) to discover you to your countrey-men, i would doe it upon my knees, and leaving me with a weeping good night, he made fast the doore, and transported the keyes, as he was directed. the day following the governour entered my prison alone, intreating me to confesse that i was a spy, and he would be my friend, and procure my pardon, neither should i lacke (interim) any needfull thing: but i still attesting my innocency, hee wrathfully swore i should see his face no more, till grievous torments should make me doe it; and leaving mee in a rage, he observed too well his condition. but withall in my audience, he commanded areta, that none should come neare mee except the slave, nor no food should be given mee but three ounces of moosted browne bread, every second day, and a fuleto or english pint of water, neither any bed, pillow, or coverlet to be allowed mee: and close up sayd he, this window in his roome, with lyme and stone, stop the holes of the doore with double matts, hanging another locking to it; and to withdraw all visible and sensible comfort from him, let no tongue, nor feet be heard neare him, till i have my designes accomplished: and thou hazier i charge thee, at thy incommings to have no conference with him, nor at thy out-goings abroad to discover him to the english factors, as thou wilt answer upon thy life, and the highest torments can be devised. these directions delivered, and alas too accessary to me in the performance: my roome was made a darke-drawne dungeon, my belly the anatomy of mercilesse hunger, my comfortlesse hearing, the receptacle of sounding bells, my eye wanting light, a loathsome languishing in despaire, and my ground lying body, the woefull mirrour of misfortunes: every houre wishing anothers comming, every day the night, and every night the morning. [a speedy expedition for a mercilesse mischeife.] and now being every second or third day attended with the twinckling of an eye, and my sustenance agreeable to my attendance, my body grew exceeding debile and infirme; insomuch that the governour (after his answers receaved from madrile) made haste to put in execution, his bloody and mercilesse purpose before christmas holy-dayes: least ere the expiring of the twelfth day, i should be utterly famished, and unable to undergoe my tryall, without present perishing, yet unknowne to me, save onely in this knowledge, that i was confident to dye a fearefull and unacquainted death: for it is a current custome with the spaniard, that if a stranger be apprehended upon any suspicion, he is never brought to open tryall, and common jayle, but clapd up in a dungeon, and there tortured, impoysoned, or starved to death: such meritorious deeds, accompany these onely titular christians: for the spaniard accounteth it more to be called a christian, than either to beleeve what hee professeth, or to conforme him selfe to the life of christianity: yea, i sparingly avouch it, hee is the worst and baddest creature of the christian name; having no more religion (and lesse respective to devotion) than an externall presumptuous show; which perfiteth this ancient proverbe, the spaniard; est bonus catholicus, sed malus christianus. in end, by gods permission, the scourge of my fiery tryall approaching; upon the forty seventh day after my first imprisonment, and five dayes before christmas; about two a clocke in the morning, i heard the noyse of a coach in the fore-street, marvelling much what it might meane. [my transportation from prison to the fields to be racked.] within a pretty while i heard the locks of my prison-doore in opening; whereupon bequeathing my soule to god, i humbly implored his gracious mercie and pardon for my sinnes: for neither in the former night nor this, could i get any sleepe, such was the force of gnawing hunger, and the portending heavinesse of my presaging soule. meanewhile the former nine sergeants, accompanied with the scrivan, entered the roome without word speaking, and carrying mee thence, with irons and all, on their armes through the house, to the street, they layd mee on my backe in the coach: where two of them sat up beside mee, (the rest using great silence) went softly along by the coach side. then baptista the coach-man, an indian negro droving out at the sea-gate, the way of the shoare-side, i was brought westward almost a league from the towne, to a vine-presse house, standing alone amongst vineyards, where they inclosed mee in a roome till day light, for hither was the racke brought the night before, and privately placed in the ende of a trance. and all this secresie was used, that neyther english, french, or flemings, should see or get any knowledge of my tryall, my grievous tortures, and dreadfull dispatch, because of their treacherous and cruel proceedings. at the breach of day the governour, don francesco, and the alcalde, came foorth in another coach: where when arrived, and i invited to their presence, i pleaded [a stranger ought not to be accused with strangers without an interpreter.] for a trench man, being against their law, to accuse or condemne a stranger, without a sufficient interpreter. the which they absolutely refused, neyther would they suffer or grant mee an appellation to madrid. and now after long and new examinations, from morning to darke night, they finding my first and second confession so runne in one, that the governour swore, i had learned the arte of memory: saying further, is it possible hee can in such distresse, and so long a time, observe so strictly in every manner the poynts of his first confession, and i so often shifting him too and fro. well, the governours interrogation and my confession being mutually subscribed: he and don francesco besought me earnestly to acknowledge and confesse my guiltinesse in time: if not, he would deliver me in the alcaldes hands there present: saying moreover, thou art as yet in my power, and i may spare or pardon thee; providing thou wilt confesse thy selfe a spie, and a traytour against our nation. but finding mee stand fast to the marke of my spotlesse innocency, he, invective, and malicious hee, after many tremenduous threatnings, commanded the scrivan to draw up a warrant for the chiefe justice: and done, he set his hand to it, and taking me by the hand, delivered me and the warrant in the alcalde majors hands, to cause mee bee tortured, broken, and cruelly tormented. whence being carried along on the sergeants armes, to the end of a trance or stone gallery, where the pottaro or racke was placed: the encarnador or tormentor, begunne to disburden me of my irons, which beeing very hard inbolted he could not ram-verse the wedges for a long time: whereat the chiefe justice being offended, the malicious villaine with the hammer which he had in his hand, stroake away above an inch of my left heele with [a mercilesse hurt, before they begun to racke mee.] the bolt. whereupon i grievously groaning, beeing exceeding faint, and without my three ounces of bread, and a little water for three dayes together: the alcalde sayd, o traytor all this is nothing, but the earnest of a greater bargaine you have in hand. now the irons being dissolved, and my torments approaching, i fell prostrate on my knees, crying to the heavens: o great and gracious god, it is truely knowne to thy all-seeing eye, that i am innocent of these false and fearefull accusations, and since therefore it is thy good will and pleasure, that i must suffer now by the scelerate hands of mercilesse men: lord furnish mee, with courage, strength, and patience least by an impatient minde, and feebling spirit, i become my owne murtherer, in confessing my selfe guilty of death, to shunne present punishment. and according to the multitude of thy mercies, o lord, bee mercifull to my sinfull soule, and that for jesus thy sonne and my redeemer his sake. after this, the alcalde, and scrivan, being both chaire-set, the one to examine, the other to write downe my confession and tortures: i was by the executioner stripped to the skin, brought to the racke, and then mounted by him on the top of it: where eftsoones i was hung by the bare shoulders, with two small cords, which went under both mine armes, running on two rings of iron that were fixed in the wall above my head. thus being hoysed, to the appoynted height, the tormentor discended below, and drawing downe my legs, through the two sides of the three-planked racke, hee tyed a cord about each of my ancles: and then ascending upon the racke, hee drew the cords upward, and bending [the hammes and lids of my knees were both broken.] forward with maine force, my two knees, against the two plankes; the sinewes of my hammes burst a sunder, and the lids of my knees beeing crushed, and the cords made fast, i hung so demayned, for a large houre. at last the encarnador, informing the governor, that i had the marke of jerusalem on my right arme, joyned with the name and crowne of king james, and done upon the holy grave. the corrigidor came out of his adjoyning stance, and gave direction, to teare a sunder, the name, and crowne (as hee sayd) of that hereticke king, and arch-enemy to the holy catholicke church: then the tormentor, laying the right arme above the left, and the crowne upmost, did cast a cord over both armes, seaven distant times: and then lying downe upon his backe, and setting both his feete on my hollow-pinched belly, he charged; and drew violently with his hands, making my wombe support the force of his feete, till the seaven severall cords combind in one place of my arme, (and cutting the crowne, sinewes, and flesh to the bare bones) did pull in my fingers close to the palme of my hands: the left hand of which is lame so still, and will be for ever. now mine eyes begun to startle, my mouth to foame and froath, and my teeth to chatter like to the doubling of [o cruell and inhumane murder.] drummers stickes. o strange inhumanity of men-monster manglers! surpassing the limits of their nationall law; three score tortures beeing the tryall of treason, which i had, and was to indure: yet thus to inflict a seaven-fold surplussage of more intolerable cruelties: and notwithstanding of my shivering lippes, in this fiery passion, my vehement groaning, and blood-springing fonts, from armes, broake sinewes, hammes, and knees; yea, and my depending weight on flesh-cutting cords; yet they stroke mee on the face with cudgels, to abate and cease the thundring noyse of my wrestling voyce. at last being loosed from these pinnacles of paine, i was hand-fast set on the floore, with this their incessant imploration: confesse, confesse, confesse in time, for thine inevitable torments ensue: where finding nothing from me, but still innocent, o i am innocent, o jesus! the lambe of god have mercy upon mee, and strengthen mee with patience, to undergoe this barbarous murder. [here begun my mayne tortures.] then by command of the justice, was my trembling body layd above, and along upon the face of the racke, with my head downe-ward, inclosed within a circled hole, my belly upmost, and my heeles upward toward the top of the racke: my legs and armes being drawne a sunder, were fastned with pinnes and cords, to both sides of the outward plankes; for now was i to receive my maine torments. now what a pottaro or racke is (for it stood by the wall declining downe-ward) it is made of three plankes of timber, the upmost end whereof is larger then a ful [loe here is the manner how i was mainly racked.] stride; the lower end being narrow, and the three planks joyning together, are made conformable to a mans shoulders: in the downe-most end of the middle planke there was a hole, wherein my head was layd: in length it is longer than a man, being interlaced with small cords from planke to planke, which divided my supported thighes from the middle plank: through the sides of which exteriour planks there were three distant holes in every one of them; the use wherefore you shall presently heare. [the manner how my body was first fastned to the racke before my tortures were inflicted.] now the alcalde giving commission, the executioner layd first a cord over the calfe of my leg, then another on the middle of my thigh, and the third cord over the great of my arme; which was severally done, on both sides of my body receaving the ends of the cords, from these sixe severall places through the holes made in the outward planks, which were fastned to pinnes, and the pinnes made fast with a device: for he was to charge on the out side of the planks, with as many pinnes, as there were holes and cords; the cords being first laid meet to my skin: and on every one of these sixe parts of my body, i was to receave seven severall tortures: each torture consisting of three winding throwes, of every pinne; which amounted to twenty one throwes, in every one of these sixe parts. then the tormentor having charged the first passage about my body (making fast by a device each torture as they were multiplied) he went to an earthen jarre standing full of water, a little beneath my head: from whence carrying a pot full of water; in the bottome whereof, there was an incised hole, which being stopd by his thumb, till it came to my mouth, hee did powre it in my bellie; the measure being a spanish sombre, which is an english potle: the first and second services i gladly receaved, such was the scorching drouth of my tormenting payne, and likewise i had drunke none for three dayes before. but afterward, at the third charge, perceiving these measures of water to be inflicted upon me as tortures, o strangling tortures! i closed my lips, gaine-standing that eager crudelity. [a cruelty beyond cruelties.] whereat the alcalde inraging, set my teeth asunder with a payre of iron cadges, detayning them there, at every severall turne, both mainely and manually; whereupon my hunger-clungd bellie waxing great, grew drum-like imbolstered: for it being a suffocating payne, in regard of my head hanging downeward, and the water reingorging it selfe in my throat with a strugling force; it strangled and swallowed up my breath from youling and groaning. and now to prevent my renewing griefe (for presently my heart fayleth and forsaketh me) i will onely briefly avouch, that betweene each one of these seven circular charges, i was aye reexamined, each examination continuing halfe an houre; each halfe houre a hell of infernall paine, and betweene each torment, a long distance of life quelling time. [a hellish and insupportable payne.] thus lay i sixe houres upon the racke, betweene foure a clocke afternoone, and ten a clocke at night, having had inflicted upon me three score seven torments: neverthelesse they continued me a large halfe houre (after all my tortures) at the full bending; where my body being all begored with blood, and cut through in every part, to the crushed and bruised bones, i pittifully remayned, stil roaring, howling, foaming, bellowing, and gnashing my teeth, with insupportable cryes, before the pinnes were undone, and my body loosed. true it is, it passeth the capacity of man, either sensibly to conceave, or i patiently to expresse the intollerable anxiety of mind, and affliction of body in that dreadfull time i sustayned. at last my head being by their armes advanced, and my body taken from the rack, the water regushed abundantly from my mouth; then they recloathing my broken, bloody, and cold trembling body, being all this time starke naked, i fell twice in a sounding trance: which they againe refreshed with a little wine, and two warme egges, not for charity done, but that i should be reserved to further punishment; and if it were not too truely knowne these sufferings to be of trueth, it would almost seeme incredible to many, that a man being brought so low, with starving hunger, and extreame cruelties, could have subsisted any longer reserving life. and now at last they charged my broken legs, with my former eye-frighting irons, and done, i was lamentably carryed on their armes to the coach, being after mid-night, and secretly transported to my former dungeon without any knowledge of the towne, save onely these my [a lamentable remembrance of inhumane cruelty.] lawlesse, and mercilesse tormentors: where, when come, i was layd with my head and my heeles alike high, on my former stones. the latter end of this woefull night poore mourning hazier the turke, was set to keepe me, and on the morrow, the governour entred my roome threatning me still with moe tortures to confesse, and so caused he every morning long before day, his coach to be rumbled at his gate, and about me where i lay, a great noyse of tongues, [a dreadfull affrighting for more tortures.] and opening of doores: and all this they did of purpose to affright and distract me, and to make me beleeve i was going to be rackt againe, to make me confesse an untrueth; still thus they continued every day of five dayes till christmas. upon christmas day mariana the ladies gentlewoman got permission to visit me, and with her licence, she brought abundance of teares presenting me also with a dish of honey and sugar, some confections, and rasins in a great plenty to my no small comfort, besides using many sweet speeches for consolations sake. shee gone, and the next morning of saint johns day come, long ere day the towne was in armes, the bells ringing backward, the people shouting, and drummes beating; whereat my soule was over-joyed, thinking that the moores had seazed upon all: and in the after noone the turke comming to me with bread and water, being by chance the second day, i asked him what the fray was? [alas too good newes not to have been true.] who replyed, be of good courage, i hope in god and mahomet, that you and i ere long shall be set at liberty; for your countrey-men, the english armado, and mine the moores, are joyned together, and comming to sacke malaga: and this morning post came from allagant to premonish the governour thereof; whereupon he and the towne have instantly pulled downe, all the cowper shops, and dwelling houses that were builded without by the shoare side, adjoyning to the townes wall: but yet sayd he it is no matter, the towne may easily be surprised, and i hope we shall be merry in algier, for there is above a hundred sayle seene comming hither; and therewith kissing my cheeke, hee kindly left mee. indeed, as for such newes from allagant; the detriment of twenty eight houses, the shoare-planted cannon, the suspicion they had of the english, and the towne foure dayes in armes were all true, save onely the confederacy of the english with the moores, that was false. witnesse sir richard halkins, and the captaines of his squader, who a little after christmas, comming to the road, went to the governour to cleere himselfe, and the fleete of that absurd imputation layde to their charge. the twelfth day of christmasse expired, they beganne to threaten me on still with moe tortures, even till candlemasse: in all which comfortlesse time, i was miserably afflicted with the beastly plague of gnawing vermin, which lay crawling in lumps, within, without, and about my body: yea, hanging in clusters about my beard, my lips, my nostriles, and my eye-browes, almost inclosing my sight. and for a greater satisfaction to their mercilesse mindes, the governour caused areta, his silver plate keeper, to gather and swipe the vermine upon me twice in eight dayes, which tormented me to the death, beeing a perpetuall punishment; for mine armes being broake, my hands lucken and sticking fast to the palmes of both hands, [no payne so grievous, as a lame man to be still tormented with gnawing vermine.] by reason of the shrunke sinewes; i was unable to lift mine armes, or stir my fingers, much-lesse to avoyde the filthy vermine: neyther could my legges and feete performe it beeing impotent in all. yet i acknowledge the poore infidell, some few times, and when opportunity served, would steale the keyes from areta, and about mid-night would enter my roome, with stickes and burning oyle, and sweeping them together in heapes, would burne the greatest part, to my great releafe; or doubtlesse i had beene miserably eaten up, and devoured by them. and now some eight dayes before candlemasse, the slave informed me that an english seminary priest, borne in london, and belonging to the bishops colledge of malaga; and a scottish cowper, named alexander ley, borne in dunbar, and there married; were in translating all my bookes and observations out of english, in the spanish tongue, bringing every other day numbers of wrot papers to the governour, and for their paines had thirty duccats allowed, and that they were saying, i was an arch-hereticke to the pope and the virgin mary. having redounded him concealed thankes, i was assured of their bloody inquisition, preparing my selfe in god, with faith, and patience to receive and gane-stand it: for my spirituall resolution, was surely founded, being sightlesse of company, and humane faces, i had intirely the light of my soule celebrate to god almighty. [a politick enquiry of a damnable inquisition.] and hereupon the second day after candlemas, the governour, the inquisitor a canonicall priest, entered my dungeon, accompanied with two jesuites, one of which was predicator, and superiour of the tiatinean colledge of malaga: where being chaire set, candle-lighted, and doore locked; the inquisitor after diverse frivolous questions, demaunded me if i was a romane catholicke, and acknowledged the popes supremacy. to whom i answered, i was neyther the one, nor did the other. and what power (sayd i,) have you to challenge me of my religion, since it is a chiefe article, of the former concluded peace, that none of our kings subjects should be troubled by your inquisition; but as you have murdered me for alledged treason; so you meane to martyre me for religion. and you governour, as you have tortured and hunger-starved this helplesse body, consumed with cold and vermine to the last of my life; the almighty god who revealeth the secrets of all things (although i bee never relieved) will certainely discover it, to my countrey and to the world. and is this the best of your good deeds? you repay to our mercifull king, who then being onely king of scotland, in the time of your just over-throw of eighty eight, gave secourse to thousands of your shipwracked people for many moneths; and in the end, caused transport them safely to their desired ports. leaving to the worlds memory an eternall stampe of christian bounty, mercy, and royall charity, and your acquittance to him, is an imputation of treachery to his fleete, detayning and mis-regarding his letters and seales, and now imposing to a tormented innocent, your lawlesse inquisition. to which the governour answered, all that was true, but it was done more through feare then love, and therefore deserved the lesser thankes; but (interim) wee will follow the utter-most of our ends. and the jesuite predicator to confirme his words, sayd, there was no faith to be kept with heretickes, which directly or indirectly is the sublime policy of conquerours, which our mighty and invincible nation evermore taketh notice of and observeth. [a damnable inquisitor applying false attributs to our blessed lady.] then the inquisitor arrising, expressed himselfe thus: behold the powerfull majesty of gods mother, commaunder of her sonne, equall to the father, wife to the holy ghost, queene of heaven, protector of angels, and sole gubernatrix of the earth, &c. how thou being first taken as a spye, accused for treachery, and innocently tortured (as we acknowledge we were better informed lately from madrile of the english intention) yet it was her power, her divine power, which brought these judgements upon thee; in that thou hast wrot calumniously against her blessed miracles of loretta: and against his holinesse, the great agent, and christs viccar on earth: therefore thou hast justly fallen into our hands, by her speciall appointment; thy bookes and papers, are miraculously translated by her speciall providence with thy owne countrey-men: wherefore thou maist clearely see, the impenetrable misteries of our glorious lady in punishing her offenders: and for a humble satisfaction, repent thee of thy wickednesse, and be converted to the holy mother church. and after many such like exhortations of all the foure, the inquisitor assigned me eight dayes for my conversion: saying, that hee, and the tiatines would twice a day visite mee in that time, intreating me to be advised againe the next morning, of these doubts and difficulties that withstood my conscience. [a sicophaniticall oration from a jugling jebusite.] then in leaving mee, the jesuite predicator making a a crosse upon my crossed breast, sayd, my sonne, beholde you deserve to be burnt quicke, but by the grace of our lady of loretta, whom you have blasphemed, wee will both save your soule and body: spewing forth also this fæminine latine; nam mansueta et misericordiosa est ecclesia, o ecclesia romana! extra quem non est salus: they gone and i alone, all this night, was i instant with my god, imploring his grace, to rectifie my thoughts, illuminate my understanding, confirme my confidence, beatifie my memory, to sanctifie my knowledge, to expell the servile feare of death, and to save my soule, from the intangling corruption of any private ends, illusions, or mundane respects whatsoever. the next morning, the three ecclesiastickes returned, and being placed with chaires and candles, the inquisitor made interrogation, of what difficulties, errors, or mis-beliefe i had. to whom ingenuously i answered i had none, neyther any difficulty, errour, nor mis-beliefe; but was confident in the promises of jesus christ, and assuredly believed his revealed will in the gospell, professed in the reformed catholicke church; which being confirmed by grace, i had the infallible assurance in my soule, of the true christian faith. to these words, he answered, thou art no christian, but an absurd hereticke, and without conversion, a member of perdition. whereupon i replied, reverend sir, the nature of charity and religion, doe not consist in opprobious speeches; wherefore if you would convert me (as you say) convince mee by argument: if not, all your threatenings of fire, death, nor torments, shall make me shrinke from the truth of gods word in sacred scriptures. [the fury of a mad inquisitor to have almost slain me.] whereupon the mad inquisitor clapd mee on the face with his foote, abusing me with many raylings, and if the jesuites had not intercepted him, he had stobbed me with a knife; where, when dismissed, i never saw him more. the third day insuing (and having broake their promise) the two jesuites returned, and after a frowning silence, the superiour asked me of my resolution: i told him i was resolved already, unlesse hee could show me good reasons in the contrary. whereupon having past with me some few superficial arguments of their seaven sacraments, intercession, transubstantiation, images, purgatory, miracles, merit, &c. he begun to brag of their church her antiquity, universality, and uniformity. auncient no (sayd i) for the profession of my faith, hath beene ever since the first time of the apostles; and christ had ever his owne church (howsoever obscure) in the greatest time of your darknesse. so rome foure hundred yeares and upward, was the true church; but afterward falling in apostacy by meanes of her corrupt leaders, wee have left her in nothing, but what shee hath left her former selfe. universall no; although shee assumeth a catholicke name, was not the church in the east, a greater church than yours in the west for hundreds of yeares, and i pray you what are now the orientall churches in asia, (besides the greeks) and the �thiopian affricans that doe not so much as know, or heare of your pope, far lesse his profession. with no small adoe, boniface the third, obtained of phocas the emperour to be called universall bishop: which was asisted afterward by puppin the french king, and ratified by paleologus, the father of constantine who lost constantinople: [the romish church falls short of true antiquity, universality, and uniformity.] and what long contraversies about this new power, was betweene your popes, and the counsells of carthage, calcedon, ephesus, alexandria, and nice. uniformable no; some of your priests give the sacrament onely in bread, for reall flesh and blood, some in wine without bread, and some in both. the bavarians in their owne language sing the psalmes in prose at their masses, and not else where done: the second commandement goeth current amongst some of your catholicks in france, yet not in bretagne, nor provance; so doth it in austria and bavaria, but not in italy and spaine. it is most evident, what your former popes have confirmed, the succeeding popes have disanulled, and dayly doe, as their present lives, and your auncient histories beare a true record. and was there not at one time, three popes in three severall places? and oftentimes two at once: one professing one heresie, and another atheisme: what mutinies and malice, are dayly among your monasteries, each envying anothers priviledge, anothers preferment, anothers wealth: and your order (father) by all the other monasticks, is hated and vilipended to death; besides diversities of doctrine, betweene your professors and the dominicans: and hundreds of like disunities you have both in ceremony and order which now i suspend: so i pray you (father) where your uniformity, much lesse your universality, and worst of all your antiquity. having thus concluded, the fiery fac'd jesuits, with boisterous menacings left mee; and the eight day thereafter, being the last day of their inquisition, they returned againe, in a more milder disposition: where after divers arguments on both sides, the two jesuits with teares distilling from their eyes, solidly protested, they were sorry from their heart, for that terrible death i was to undergo, and above all the loosing of my soule: [the jesuits last allurements for my conversion to their sect.] and falling downe on their knees, cryed, convert, convert, o deare brother! for our blessed ladies sake convert: to whom i replyed, that neither death nor fire i feared; for i was resolved for both, yet thinking my selfe unworthy to suffer for christ and the gospells sake, considering my vildnesse and my owne unworthinesse: yet the spirit of god assureth my faith, it is his divine pleasure it should be so that i must suffer. wherefore if i should divert, trust mee not, for i would but dissemble with you (through feare, flattery, or force) to shunne present death. whereupon they called the governour, and after their privy consulting, hee thus spoke; deare brother, my greatest desire is, to have thee a good christian, a romane catholick, to which if thy conscience will yeeld, i will shew thee as great courtesie, as thou hast receaved cruelty: for pitty it were, that such an invincible spirit, and endued with so many good parts, should perish in both worlds for ever. plucke up thy heart, and let the love of our blessed lady enter in thy soule: let not thy former sufferings dismay thee, (for thy sores being yet greene and curable) i shall transport thee to a fine chamber, and there thou shalst have all needfull things for the recovery of thy health and strength. thy money and patents shall be refounded, but thy hereticall bookes are already burned: and lastly sayd he, i will send thee with my owne servant to court, counsel, and king, with letters from the holy inquisition, and from mee, faithfully promising thou shalt enjoy a pension of three hundred duccats a yeare. but having satisfied his bewitching policy with a christian constancy; they all three left mee in a thundering rage; vowing, i should that night have the first seale of my long sorrowes: and directing their course to the bishop and inquisitor (for the governour had wrested the inquisition upon mee, to free him of his former aspersion layd upon the english fleet, and my tryall therefore, converting it all to matters of religion) the inquisition (i say) sat forthwith, [a condemnatory sentence to death by the inquisition.] where first i was condemned to receave that night eleven strangling torments in my dungeon: and then after easter holy dayes, i should be transported privatly to grenada, and there about mid-night to be burnt body and bones into ashes, and my ashes to be flung into the ayre: well, that same night the scrivan, sergeants, and the young english priest entered my melancholly staunce: where the priest in the english tongue urging mee all that he could (though little it was hee could doe) and unprevailing, i was disburdened of mine irones, unclothed to my skin, set on my knees and held up fast with their hands: where instantly setting my teeth asunder with iron cadges, they filled my belly full of water, even gorgeing to my throat: then with a garter they bound fast my throat, till the white of mine eye turned upward; and being laid on my side, i was by two sergeants tumbled to and fro seven times through the roome; even till i was almost strangled: this done, they fastned a small cord about each one of my great toes, and hoysing me therewith to the roofe of a high loft (for the cords runne on two rings of iron fastned above) they cut the garter, and there i hung, with my head downward, in my tormented weight, till all the gushing water dissolved: this done, i was let downe from the loft, quite senslesse, lying a long time cold dead among their hands: whereof the governour being informed, came running up stayres, crying, is he dead, o fie villanes goe fetch me wine, which they powred in my mouth, regayning thereby a slender sparke of breath. [a turkish slaves charity in the bowels of compassion.] these strangling torments ended, and i reclothed, and fast bolted againe they left mee lying on the cold floore praysing my god, and singing of a psalme. the next morning the pittifull turke visiting mee with bread and water, brought me also secretly in his shirt sleeve, two handfull of rasins and figges, laying them on the floore amongst the crawling vermine, for having no use of armes nor hands, i was constrayned by hunger and impotency of time, to licke one up with another with my tongue: this charity of figs the slave did once every weeke or fortnight, or else i had long or then famished. after which sorrowfull distresse, and inhumane usage, the eye-melting turke taking displeasure, fell five dayes sicke, and bedfast: but the house spaniards understanding his disease made him beleeve i was a divell, a sorcerer, a nigromancer, and a blasphemous miscreant, against their pope, their lady, and their church; giving him such a distast, that for thirty dayes, he never durst looke me in the face, being affraid of witchcraft. all this time of his absence, one ellinor the cooke, an indian negro woman, attended mee, for she being a christian drudge, had more liberty to visit mee, than the slavish infidell: who certainly (under god) prolonged then my languishing life, conveighing me for foure weekes space, once a day some lesse or more nourishment, and in [the deceitfulness of female inconstancies.] her pocket a bottle glasse of wine. being no wayes semblable to the soule betraying teares of her crocodilean sex which the spanish proverbe prettily avoucheth: las mugeres, engannan a los hombres, dellas lastimandoles, con sus lagrimas fingidas; dellas hallagandoles, con palabras lesongeras: to wit, women deceave men, some of them, grieving them with their fayned teares, and other fawning on them with flattering words. but; kind ellenor though blacke by nature borne, made bounty (not her beauty) to adorne her new chang'd pagan life (though vail'd by night of romish shades) to shine on mee more bright, then sun scorched �thiope beames; art-glancing spangles: or that �gyptian bird, mans sight intangles with rarest colours: for her loving sight though black as pitch, gave me transparent light: food, and stolne-food, though little, yet enough; (the finer soile, the ebber tilles the plough,) second with wine, a mutchkin, thrice a weeke pack'd in her pocket, for it might not speeke: thus females have extreames, and two we see, eyther too wicked, or too good they be; for being good no creature can excell them, and being bad, no ill can paralell them: but sure this gift, from course of nature came, rais'd up by heaven to be my nursing dame; for she a savage bred, yet shew more love and humane pitty, then desert could moove: wherein shee stain'd the spaniards; they did nought but what revenge, on slaughter'd sorrow wrought: thus, they who turn'd her, went themselves astray, and shee though ignorant, trac'd the christian way: for which great god reward her make her soule as white within, as she without is foule; and if i might, as reason knowes i would her love, and praise, my deeds should crowne with gold. now about the middle of lent, hazier, my former friend, was appoynted to attend me agayne, suspecting ellenors compassion; but as my miseries were multiplied, my patience in god was redoubled: for men are rather killed with the impatience they have in adversity, then adversity it selfe: and of all men, that man is most [an impatient man in trouble is a triple torture.] unhappy, to whom god in his troubles hath not given patience; for as the violent enemy of age is griefe, so is the mindes impatiency, the arch-corruptor of all our troubles: but indeede in the weakenesse of judgement, when men seeme lost by long affliction to themselves, then they are often and ever neerest to god: for who would have thought, that i who had seene so many sects and varieties of religion, dispersed over the face of the earth, could have stucke fast to any religion at all; travailers being reputed to be ubique et omnibus parati. but i will tell thee christian, it was the grace of god in me, and not mine: for as fire lying hid under ashes, and touch'd will flame; so i seeming to my selfe carelesse of christianity, then god pricking my conscience made tryall of my faith: for christ forbid, that every shippe which coasteth the rockey shoare, should leave her ruines there. this i speake not for any selfe-prayse, but to glorifie god, and to condemne the rash censures of opinion, and with phocion, i mistrust my selfe, because of popular applause: erubuit quasi peccasset quod placuerit: but now to abbreviate a thousand circumstances of my lamentable sufferings, which this volume may not suffer to containe: by gods great providence, about a fortnight before easter, anno . there came a spanish cavaliere of grenada to malaga, whom the governour one night invited to supper, being of old acquaintance: where after supper to intertayne discourse, the governour related and [gods great mercy in my first discovery by a stranger.] disclosed to the stranger (god working thereby my discovery and deliverance) all the proceedings and causes of my first apprehending, my confessions, torments, starvings, their mistaking of the english fleete, and finally the wresting of the inquisition upon me, and their condemnatory sentence seeming also much to lament my mis-fortunes, and praysing my travailes and deserts. now all this while, the gentlemans servant, a flandrish fleming, standing at his maisters backe, and adhering to all the governours relations, was astonished, to heare of a sakelesse stranger, to have indured, and to indure such damnable murther and cruelty. whereupon, the discourse ending and mid-night past, the stranger returned to his lodging; where the fleming having bedded his maister, and himselfe also in another roome, he could not sleepe all that night, and if hee slumbered, still hee thought hee saw a man torturing, and burning in the fire: which hee confessed to m. wilds when morning came. well, he longed for day, and it being come, and hee cloathed, hee quietly left his lodging, inquiring for an english factor, and comming to the house of m. richard wilds, the chiefe english consull: hee told him all what hee heard the governour tell his master, but could not tell my name: only maister wilds conjectur'd it was i, because of the others report of a traveller, and of his first and former acquaintance with me there. [these are the english factors which first wrought my reliefe.] whereupon the fleming being dismissed, he straight sent for the other english factors, mr. richard busbitche, mr. john corney, mr. hanger, mr. stanton, mr. cooke, mr. rowley, and mr. woodson: where advising with them, what was best to be done for my reliefe; they sent letters away immediatly with all post dilligence, to sir walter aston, his majesties ambassadour lying at madrile: upon which hee mediating with the king and counsell of spaine, obtained a strait warrant to command the governour of malaga, to deliver mee over in the english hands: which being come, to their great disliking, i was released on easter-satturday before midnight, and carryed uppon hazier the slaves backe to master busbitches house, where i was carefully attended till day light. meanewhile (by great fortune) there being a squader of his majesties ships lying in the road, sir richard halkins came earely a shoare, accompanied with a strong trayne, and receaved mee from the merchants: whence i was carryed on mens armes in a payre of blanquets, to [i durst not stay a shoare for feare of the inquisition.] the vangard his majesties ship. and three dayes thereafter, i was transported to a ship bound for england, the fleets victualler, named the goodwill of harwich; by direction of the generall sir robert maunsell: where being well placed, and charge given by sir richard halkins to the ships master william westerdale, for his carefulnes toward the preservation of my life, which then was brought so low & miserable. the foresaid merchants sent mee from shoare (besides the ships victuals) a sute of spanish apparrell, twelve hennes, a barrell of wine, a basket full of egges, two roves of figges and rasins, two hundred orenges and lemmons, eight pounds of sugar, a number of excellent good bread, and two hundred realls in silver and gold; besides two double pistolls sir richard halkins sent mee as a token of his love. the kindnesses of whom to bury in oblivion, were in me the very shame of ingratitude, i being then a lost man and hopelesse of life, which argued in them a greater singularitie of kindnesse and compassion. yet i remember [religious sir richard halkins my speciall friend.] for all my lamenes and distraction, i intreated sir richard halkins to goe a shoare to the governour, and demand him for my gold, my eight patents, my booke of armes, and his majesties letters and seales; the which he willingly obeyed, (being accompanied with captaine cave, and captaine raymond) but could obtaine nothing at all, save blandements and leying excuses. and now on the twelfth day of our lying in the road, our ship weighing her anchors, and hoysing her sailes, wee passed through the straits of gibelterre, or fretum herculeum; for this was the furthest land that hercules could attayne unto; which made him erect a pillar, and indent thereon, nil ultra; but when charles the fift, returned from that untoward voyage of algier, hee caused to set up in the same place, plus ultra. here in this channell, i remarked a perpetuall current; flowing from the ocean to the mediterrene sea without any regresse: which indeed is admirable the mediterranean seas being hembd in, and environed with the mayne continent of south europe; the north and north west coasts of asia, and the northerne parts of affricke; save onely the narrow passage of hellespont, which from mare propontis bendeth his course to mare euxinum: and yet the euxine, or blacke sea, hath no affinity with any other moving waters, being likewise incompassed with the mayne continent: and from it also runneth a continuall current, through bosphorus thraicus, to the mediterraneum. [the strait of gibelterre five leagues broad.] this narrow sea on affricke, or side of fez, consisteth betweene cap di sprat, and the promontore of sewty, and upon the coast of spayne, betweene cap de trafolger, and the butting forehead-land of gibelterre, or jubile tauro; the passage being five leagues broad, and nine in length. and to be briefe, upon the fifty day after my departure from malaga, i arrived at datford upon thames; whence the next morning i was carried to theoballs on a feather-bed, and brought to the privy gallery, for the kings comming from parke. witnesse all the court of england, even from the king to the kitchin, what a martyrd anatomy i was, at then of me their first sight; and what small hope was either expected of my life or recovery. where, when immediatly having made my most humble and grievous complaints unto his sacred majesty, his gracious consideration (in the meane time) was such, for the recovery of my health, that i was twice sent to the bath at the charges of his royall love, during the space of twenty seven weekes, where by the divine providence, and his princely clemency, i have recovered for the time in a large measure, the health and strength of my body, although my left arme, and crushed bones be incurable. meane while, in the first weeke of my arrivall in england, i was conveyed from theobalds (by his majesties direction) to don diego surmento de gundamore, the spanish ambassadour, then resident in holborne. [a false promise unperformed.] where he votally undertooke, before then the two lord marquesses, hammilton and buckingham, (confirming it the day following to his majesty at greenewich) that after a condigne tryall had from spaine, concerning my grievances: i should have all my money, cloathes, observations, testimoniall patents, and his majesties seales restored me agayne, with a thousand pound sterling also, (beeing modified by his royall pleasure) of the governour of malagaes meanes, for the maintayning of my lame and racked body. these promises were made the sixt of june . and were to be performed againe michaelmasse day insuing: but this day come, hee continued his drifts to the prima vera; and it also arrived, he deferred time, with new protestations, onely to easter or pascua: and that season come, he turned my pascua to prison: for a little before his departure (seeing his policy too strong for mine oppressed patience) i told him flatly in his face, from the griefe of my soule, what he was, and what he went about; which afterward proved true: whereupon in the chamber of presence, before the emperours ambassadour, and diverse knights and gentle-men, his majesties servants: [a single combat betweene a spanish earle and a scottish traveller.] he rashly adventured the credite of leager honour, in a single combat against me a retorted plaintive: where indeed his fistula was contra-banded with a fist, and for victory, favour lent him authority; because of my commitment, for i lay nine weekes incarcerate in the marshall-sea at southwarke: whence i returned with more credite, then hee left england with honesty; beeing both vanquish'd and victor. and my muse left to mourne for my liberty, deplored thus. low levell'd lie, my lofty staring aymes, low droupes the flight, of my swift wing'd designe; low bowes that top, whose hight true merit claimes: low head-long fals the scope of my engine: low turnes my round, harsh grow the sacred nine; low sinke my joyes, pale griefe, converts in care: low lurkes ambition, in this breast of mine: low stoupe these smiles, that fortune wont to share; low rest my drifts, my curious travailes rare: low scude the limits, of my high-bred thought: low plunge my hopes, in darke deepes of despaire; low i o'erthrowne, with crosses low am brought: low live i here, in sad restraint and strife: low then the lower of the lowest life: low as i am, i'le lowly sacrifice: low deep fetch'd sighes, to heaven on my low knees. but i remember in the aforesayd time of this my [a false aspersion laid on me by papists.] imprisonment, there were two papists my countrey-men, who wrot to me a letter; not like to a familiar epistle of cicero: no, but they would have fastned an untruth upon me; affirming that i was a romane catholicke in my heart; and that they would justifie it, that i received the sacrament at rome, in the first yeare that paulus (burgesius) papa quintus, came to his triple crowne: to whom in a true and christian defence, my serious and approbable reply was thus: this is your papall marke, that as you runne astray, you eyther would, or needes will have, christs flocke to loose their way: can you avouch this point, and dare you blaze your shame, thus painter-like to portray'd so, a figure for a name: shall symbolizing i, by paragraphs defind, in paradoxicke passages, equivocate my minde. no tincture shall ingrosse, my senses so delude, to maculate my splendant path, with positives intrude: in this aversion i, i more then victor live, let crittickes sterne aspersions spew, this project i'le atchieve: my words shall seale the truth, my heart reserves the stamp, wherein my characters of faith, as zealous shall incampe: that desuetude of soule, i never did imbrace, nor shall; nor did, god is my judge, such was his heavenly grace: no secondary meane, shall aggrevate my hope, the auncient rule of primacy, shall be my moderne scope: can such occurrents stand, as ominous in me, when you detract and falsly wrest, the truth in perjury: it is your lineall straine, collusions to induct, with misticke contradictories, your implies you construct: no inference can prye, nor strange illation proove, in your exorbitanting braines, my period i did moove: this microcosmos mine, such imputation scornes; and turnes this grim demoniat spight, on your hell-forked hornes. my name you presse to staine, by base abortive leyes, to circumcise my recent fame, with sharpe edg'd calumnies: and labour to depresse, that confluence i have from heaven ascrib'd, confirmed by grace, the pledge my spirit doth crave: that strife can not avayle, i so assume the right; your doubled darkned eies perceive, i triumph in the light: it's not your bloody priests, nor tortures can prevaile, i past your purgatory ones, the rest must you impale. for what by dread or straine, you can not worke nor do, you wrest, you leye, you paint, you faine, and add illusions too: these latent forgeries, annexed to your faith, as pendicles precipitate, inhaunce your soules to death: with shrew'd acerbious speech, you anathematize my will reciprocall to yours, such guile you moralize: but this reflexing heart, in a transparent flame, can by experience conster well, your churches sire and dame: no tort i introduct, to damnifie your sexe, whose empty sculles (illuding feare) your selves perverstly vexe: i organize the truth, you allegate the sense, disbending cominous defects, in your absurd pretence: your immateriall proofes, i wish you would detect, my processe craves sedulity, for what you gulles suspect. after this, their sequell answere being mortified, and i set at liberty by a just favour of the privy councell, my formalists durst never attempt any further dispute with me, neither any passing countenance in our rancounters: but what shall i say concerning my grievances, sed qui patitur vincit: since there is no helpe or redresse to bee had for wrongs past, no, neither (alasse) for any present in either meane, or mighty falls: for when the starres of great states, decline under the selfe-same constellation of my sorrowes, and made the deplored for spectacles, of the inconstancy of fortune; what shall i then in a privat life, and publicke pilgrimage expect, but the common calamity of this age, and the irrevocable redresse of my miseries sustayned, for this crowne and kingdome of england, which shall be presently cleared: yet would to god, i might doe, as xerxes the persian king did, that when the greekes had taken sardis, the metropole of lydia, he commanded one of his servants to stand before him everyday at dinner, and cry aloud, saying; the grecians have taken sardis: whereby he was never at quiet, till it was recovered. [incompatible griefe without deserved reliefe.] so would i, oppressed i, by mighty powers; (though not a king, yet the faythfull subject of a king) cry dayly from the heart-broken sorrow of my incompatible injuries; o barbarous, and inhumane malaga! when shall my soule be revenged on thy cruell murther, and when shall mine eyes see thy mercilesse destruction? but tush, what dreame i? now a dayes griefe can find no reliefe, far lesse compassion, and meaner revenge, and so farewell satisfaction, when flattering feare dare challenge obsequiousnesse, to the alteration of any thing. but afterward when death, heavens fatall messenger, and enemy to nature, had darted king james of matchlesse memory; who sometimes (besides my soveraigne) in some respects, and for the former cause, was a father to me; then was i forcibly (i say) constrayned to preferre a bill of grievance to the upper house of parliament anno . which i dayly followed . weekes: well; my grievances were heard and considered, and thereupon an order graunted me (bearing the lords reference and pleasure concerning my suite) unto sir thomas coventrey, lord keeper of englands great seale; and through whose office my businesse should have passed: which order was delivered unto him, by mr. james maxwell knight of the blacke rode, and one of his majesties bed-chamber, in behalfe of the lords of the upper house: the order thus being reserved then with the lord-keeper for a moneth, hee appointed me to fetch him (because of a warrant to his [a direction for certificats by the lord keeper.] state office) the certificats of sir walter aston, sir robert maunsell, and sir thomas button, to cleare my sufferings, and the causes wherefore: which i gladly obeyed, and brought all their three certificates unto him: yea, and sir walter aston, (besides his hand-writ) spoke seriously face to face with him thereanent. meane-while the house breaking up abruptly (because of soveraigne disliking) their order for my suite could take none effect as then, nor yet since, in regard it was no session parliament; and so my order and reliefe lyeth suspended till some hapy time. but now to confound the calumnious and vituperious papists, the miscreant and miserable atheists, the peevish and selfe-opiniating puritanes, the faithles misbeleeving mungrells of true religion, and of this trueth: and the very objections have beene sayd sometimes in my face, by irreligious and disdainefull nullifidians: who have sayd and thought that i could neither be so constant, nor they so cruell: i thinke it not amisse, to set downe verbally one of their certificats here, being all of one style, and to one purpose; and thus it followeth. to the right honorable, sir thomas coventry knight, lord keeper of the great seale of england, &c. may it please your honour: i have taken boldnesse to certifie your good lordship, of the trueth concerning the grievous sufferings of this heavily injured man, william lithgow: true it is, that this bearer, being bound for alexandria in egypt, having with him letters of safe conduct, under the hand and seale of his late majesty king james of blessed memory; ran-countred with us, and our fleete at malaga: whereof i was imployed as vice-admirall against the pyrats of algier; where he repayring a boord of us, and frequenting our company a shoare, was presently (after we had set sayle) apprehended by command of the governour and magistrates there as a spie; whom they suspected, had of purpose beene left behind by our generall, and us of the counsell of warre, for the discovery of that place, and other adjacent parts: whereupon beeing secretly imprisoned in the governours palace; and after serious examination of our intention; hee was without any cause done, or offered by him, most unjustly put to the cruell racke and tortures; besides all other his unspeakable miseries, which for a long time he sustained thereafter: whereof i was credibly and infallibly informed by m. richard wilds, to whom he was first discovered, and by other english factors of good note then resident there: in my repayring diverse times to the roade of that towne with my squadron of shippes, during the time of his long imprisonment, and after his deliverance. and afterward the governour there beeing better informed of our loyall proceedings in those parts, and to colour their former cruelties, and suspition had of us, hee did wrest the inquisition upon him, where being condemned to death, he had doubtlesse undergone (as i was likewise truely informed by the afore-said merchants) the finall sentence of their inquisition: if it had not beene, for the religious care, and speedy prevention of sir walter aston, then leiger ambassadour there: by whose earnest mediation he being delivered, and afterwards sent home by direction of sir robert maunsell generall: i now commend his grievous and lamentable cause, unto your lordshippes tender and religious consideration. resting, your lordships to command, to serve you: from fulham this tenth of july. . sir thomas button. and now to conclude this tragicall discourse, the religious eye, may perceive gods compassionate love, foure wayes here extended. first, his powerfull providence in my long and admirable preservation in prison: hunger, vermine, and tortures, being my comfortlesse companions. secondly, the pittifull kindnesse of his all-seeing [gods miraculous mercy in my deliverances.] eye, in the miraculous wonder of my discovery, when the perverted policy of subtile serpents, had sceleratly suggested my concealement. thirdly, his unspeakable mercy in my unlooked-for deliverance, beeing by hopelesse me, not thought, nor sought; and yet by his munificence was wrought. and lastly, his gracious goodnesse, in the recovery (after some large measure) of my health and use of body againe; all prayse and glory be to his infinite majesty therefore. and finally, merit beeing masked, with the darkenesse of ingratitude, and the morning spring-tide of . come: i set face from court for scotland, suiting my discontents, with a pedestriall progresse, and my feete with the palludiat way; where fixing mine eyes on edenbrugh, and prosecuting the tennor of a regall commission (which partly beeing some where obeyed, and other-where suspended) it gave mee a large sight of the whole kingdome, both continent, and iles. the particular description whereof, in all parts, and of all places, besides ports and rivers: i must referre to the owne volume already perfected, intitulated lithgowes surveigh of scotland: which this worke may not containe, nor time suffer to publish till a fitter occasion. only commenting a little upon some generalls. i hasten to be at finis. traversing the westerne iles (whose inhabitants, like to as many bulwarkes, are abler and apter to preserve and defend, their libertie and precincts from incursive invasions; then any neede of forts or fortified places they have, or can be required there: such is the [the kindnes i received from the illustrious lord the marques of hammilton.] desperate courage of these awfull hebridians:) i arrived (i say) at the ile of arrane, anno . where for certayne dayes, in the castle of braidwicke, i was kindly intertayned, by the illustrious lord, james marquesse of hammilton, earle of arrane and cambridge, &c. whom god may strengthen, with the liveliest heart, and fearelesse minde, of all, e'vr fac'd that art for bohems queene: heavens prosper his intent! with glorious successe, and a brave event: that by a king beene sped, for a kings sake, to helpe a king; all three from him may take auspicuous service, friendship, faithfull love, 'gainst whom, and his, no time can breach improove. let then (great god) blest sparkes of favour fall on his designes, and theirs, our friends, and all; and angels guard him, let thy mighty hand (partition-like) 'twixt him, and dangers stand: that martiall ends, and victory may crowne his happy hopes, his life, with love renowne. this ile of arrane, is thirty miles long, eight in breadth, and distant from the maine, twenty foure miles; beeing sur-clouded with goatfield hill: which with wide-eyes, over-looketh our westerne continent, and the northerne countrey of ireland: bringing also to sight in a cleare summers day, the ile of manne, and the higher coast of cumberland: a larger prospect no mountaine in the world can show, poynting out three kingdomes at one sight: neither any like ile or braver gentry, for good archers, and hill-hovering hunters. having agayne re-shoared the maine, i coasted galloway even to the mould that butteth into the sea, with a large promontore, being the south-most part of the kingdome. and thence footing all that large countrey to dumfries, and so to carlile: i found heere in galloway in diverse rode-way innes, as good cheare, hospitality, and serviceable attendance, as though i had beene ingrafted in lombardy or naples. [the nobility and commodities of galloway excell in goodnesse.] the wooll of which countrey, is nothing inferiour to that in biscai of spaine: providing they had skill, to fine, spin, weave, and labour it as they should. nay, the calabrian silke, had never a better luster, and softer gripe, then i have seene and touched this growing wooll there on sheepes backes: the mutton whereof excelleth in sweetnesse. so this country aboundeth in bestiall, especially in little horses, which for mettall and riding, may rather be tearmed bastard barbs, then gallowedian nagges. likewise their nobility and gentry are as courteous, and every way generously disposed, as eyther discretion would wish, and honour command: that (cunningham being excepted, which may bee called the accademy of religion, for a sanctified clergy, and a godly people) certainly galloway is become more civill of late, then any maritine country, bordering with the westerne sea. but now to observe my former summary condition, the length of the kingdome lyeth south and north: that is, betweene dungsby head in cathnes, and the afore-sayde mould of galloway; beeing distant per rectam lineam, which my weary feet troad over from poynt to poynt (the way of lochreall, carrick, kyle, aire, glasgow, stirveling, st. johns towne, stormount, the blair of atholl, the bra of mar, badeynoh, innernes, rosse, sutherland, and so to the north promontore of cathnes) extending to three hundred twenty miles: which i reckon to be foure hundred and fifty english miles: confounding hereby the ignorant presumption of blind cosmographers, who [scotland is . miles longer than england.] in their mappes make england longer than scotland; when contrariwise scotland out strippeth the other in length, a hundred and twenty miles. the breadth whereof i grant is narrower than england; yet extending betweene the extremities of both coasts in divers parts to threescore, fourscore, and a hundred of our miles: but because of the sea ingulfing the land, and cutting it in so many angles, making great lakes, bayes, and dangerous firths, on both sides of the kingdome, the true breadth thereof can not justly be conjectured, nor soundly set downe. our chiefest fresh water lakes are these, lochlomond, contayning twenty foure iles, and in length as many miles: divers whereof are inriched with woods, deere, and other bestiall: the large and long lake of loch-tay, in atholl, the mother and godmother of headstrong tay, the greatest river in the kingdome: and lochnes, in the higher parts of murray, the river whereof (that graceth the pleasant and commodious situation of innernes) no frost can freize: the propriety of which water will quickly melt and dissolve any hard congealed lumps of frozen ice, be it on man or beast, stone or timber. the chiefest rivers are clyde, tay, tweed, forth, dee, spay, nith, nesse, and dingwells flood-ingorging lake, that confirmeth porta salutis; being all of them, where they returne their tributs to their father ocean portable; and as it were resting places for turmoyled seas and ships: and the principall townes are edenbrugh, perth, glasgow, dundie, abirdene, st. andrewes, aire, stirveling, lithgow, dumfries, innernes, elgin, minros, jedbrugh, hadington, leith, &c. and for antiquity, old lanerk, &c. so the most delicious soiles of the kingdome are these following: first, the bounds of clyde, or cliddisdale, betweene lanerk and dunbertan, distanced twenty sixe miles; and thence downeward to rossay that kisseth the devulgements of the river: the beginning whereof is at arick stone sixteene miles above lanerk, whose course contendeth for threescore miles: all which, being the best mixed countrey for cornes, meeds, pastorage, woods, parks, orchards, castles, pallaces, divers kinds of coale, and earth-fewell, that our included albion [cliddisdale is the paradice of scotland.] produceth: and may justly be surnamed the paradice of scotland: besides, it is adorned on both borders along, with the greatest peeres, and nobility in the kingdome: the duke of lennox, the marques of hammilton, the earle of angus, the earle of argyle, and the earles of glencairne, wigton, and abircorne. and for lord barons, semple, rosse, blantyre, and dalliell: the chiefest gentry whereof are the knights and lairds of luce, skellmurelie, blakhall, greenock, newwark, houston, pook-maxwell, sir george elpingston of blythswood, minto, cambusnethen, calderwood, the two knights of lieye, and castel-hill, sir james lokharts elder & yonger, lamington, westraw, his majesties gentleman sewer, blakwood, cobinton, stanebyres, and corhous, &c. all which in each degree, as they illuminat the soyle with grandure, so the soyle reflecteth on them againe with beauty, bounty, and riches. but least i partiall prove, because my breath first sprung from lanerk, so my christian faith; where thence (o natall place) my soule did coyle, blood, sprit, and sense, flesh, birth, life, love, and soyle; i'le leave clydes fragrant fields, resplendant banks, bedeckt with silvans, stately beauteous ranks of pandedalian sparks; which lend the sight of variable colours, best natures light; and close these silver shades, that dazeling bloome mongst thickest groaves, with many brae-fac'd broome; strict in the records of eternall fame, for sight, for gaine, for birth, for noble name. and now the second soyle for pleasure, is the platformd [carse and murray two pleasant soyles.] carse of gowry, twelve miles long (wheat, rye, cornes, fruit yards, being its onely commodity) which i may tearme for its levelld face, to be the garden of angus; yea, the diamond-plot of tay, or rather the youngest sister of matchlesse piemont: the inhabitants being onely defective in affablenesse, and communicating courtesies of naturall things, whence sprung this proverbe, the kearlles of the carse. the third, and beautifull soyle, is the delectable planure of murray, thirty miles long, and sixe in breadth: whose comely grounds, inriched with cornes, plantings, pastorage, stately dwellings, overfaced with a generous octavian gentrye, and topped with a noble earle, its chiefest patrone; it may be surstyled, a second lombardy, or pleasant meaddow of the north. neither may i (abandoning eye-pleasing grounds) seclude here that sudaick bottome, reaching thirty miles twixt perth and minros; involving the halfe of angus, within a fruitfull, populous, and nobilitat planure, the heart whereof saluting glames, kisseth cowper: so likewise, as thrice divided louthiane, is a girnell of graine, for forrane nations; and fiffe twixt carraill and largo, the ceren trenches of a royall camp, the incircling coast a nest of corporations; and meandring forth from tip-toed snadoun, the prospicuous mirrour for matchlesse majesty: even so is melting tweed, and weeping tiviot, the �gyptian strands, that irriguat the fertile fields, which imbolster both bosomes, sending their bordering breath of dayly necessaries to strengthen the life of barwick. [the nobility and gentry of scotland, are the best house-keepers, and generous gentlemen in the world.] now as for the nobility and gentry of the kingdome; certainely, as they are generous, manly, and full of courage; so are they courteous, discreet, learned schollers, well read in best histories, delicatly linguishd, the most part of them, being brought up in france or italy: that for a generall compleat worthinesse, i never found their matches amongst the best people of forrane nations: being also good house-keepers, affable to strangers, and full of hospitality. and in a word the seas of scotland, and the iles abound plentifully in all kind of fishes, the rivers are ingorged with salmond, the high-landish mountaines overcled with firre-trees, infinite deere, and all sorts of other bestiall, the valleyes full of pasture, and wild fowle; the low layd playnes inriched with beds of grayne; justice all where administred, lawes obeyed, malefactors punished, oppressors curbed, the clergy religious, the people sincere professors, and the country peaceable to all men. the chiefest commodities whereof, transported beyond sea, are these, wheat, cornes, hides, skins, tallow, yearn, linnen, salt, coale, herrings, salmond, wooll, keilling, ling, turbet and seaths. and last, and worst, all the gold of the kingdome, is daily transported away with superfluous posting for court. whence they never returne any thing, save spend all, end all, then farewell fortune: so that numbers of our nobility and gentry now, become with idle projects, downe-drawers of destruction, upon their owne neckes, their children, and their estates: and posting postilions by dissolute courses, to [prodigall and superfluous posting from scotland to court.] inrich strangers, leave themselves deservingly desolate, of lands, meanes, and honesty for ever. doing even with their former vertue, long continuance, and memory of their noble ancestors, as m. knoxe did with our glorious churches of abbocies, and monasteries (which were the greatest beauty of the kingdome,) knocking all down to desolation; leaving nought to be seene of admirable edifices, but like to the ruines of troy, tyrus, and thebes, lumpes of wals, and heapes of stones. so do our ignoble gallants (though nobly borne) swallow up the honour of their famous predecessours, with posting foolery, boy-winding hornes, cormandizing gluttony, lust, and vaine apparrell; making a transmigration of perpetuity to their present belly, and backe. o lashivious ends: which i have condignely sisted, in my last worke intitulated scotlands welcome to king charles: with all the abuses and grievances of the whole kingdome besides. but now leaving prodigalls to their purgatoriall postings, i come to trace through rosse, sutherland, and cathnes: soiles so abundant in all things, fit to illustrate greatnesse, resplendour gentry, and succour commons; that their fertile goodnesse far exceeded my expectation, and the affability of the better sort my deservings: beeing all of them the best, and most bountifull christmasse-keepers (the greekes excepted) that ever i saw in the christian world: whose continuall incorporate feastings one with another, beginning at saint andrewes day, never end til shrovetide: which ravished me, to behold, such great and daily cheare, familiar fellow-ship, and joviall chearefulnesse; that me thought the whole winter there, seemed to me, but the jubilee of one day. and now beeing arrived at maii, to imbarke for orknay, sight, [a dutifull remembrance of two noble persons.] time, and duty, command me to celebrate these following lines, to gratifie the kindnesse of that noble lord, george earle of cathnes, with his honorable cousing, and first accadent of his house, the right worshipful sir william sinclair of catboll knight, laird of maii. sir! sighting now thy selfe, and pallace faire, i find a novelty, and that most rare, the time though cold and stormy, sharper sun, and far to summer, scarce the spring begun; yet with good lucke, in februar, saturnes prey have i not sought, and found out fruitfull may, flank'd with the marine coast, prospective stands, right opposite to the orcade iles and lands: where i for floures, ingorg'd strong grapes of spaine, and liquor'd french, both red and white amaine: which pallace doth containe, two foure-squar'd courts, graft with brave works, where th' art-drawne pensile sports on hals, high chambers, galleries, office bowres, cells, roomes, and turrets, plat-formes, stately towres: where greene-fac'd gardens, set at floraes feet, make natures beauty, quicke appelles greet: all which surveigh'd, at last the mid-most gate design'd to me, the armes of that great state, the earles of cathnes; to whose praise inbag'd, my muse must mount, and here's my pen incadg'd: first then their armes, a crosse, did me produce limbd like a scallet, trac'd with fleur du luce; the lyon, red, and rag'd, two times divided from coyne to coyne, as heraulds have decyded: the third joynd staunce denotes to me a galley, that on their sea-rapt foes, dare make assailley: the fourth a gallant ship, pust with taunt saile gainst them, their ocean dare, or coast assaile: on whose bent creist, a pelican doth sit an embleme, for like love, drawne wondrous fit: who as shee feeds her young, with her heart blood denotes these lords, to theirs, like kind, like good: whose best supporters, guard both sea, and land, two sterne drawne griffons, in their strength to stand: their dictum beares this verdict, for heavens ode ascribd this clause; commit thy worke to god: o sacred motto! bishop sinclairs straine, who turnd fiffes lord, on scotlands foes agayne: loe! here's the armes of cathnes, here's the stock! on which branch'd-boughes relye, as on a rocke. but further in, i found like armes more patent; to kind sir william, and his line as latent; the primier accade, of that noble race who for his vertue, may reclayme the place; whose armes, with tongue and buckle, now they make fast crosse, signe ty'd, for a faire lesslyes sake. the lyon hunts o're land, the ship, the sea, the ragged crosse can scale high walles wee see; the wing-layd galley, with her factious oares both havens and floods command, and circling shoares: the feathred griffon flees, o grim-limbd beast! that winging sea and land, upholds this creist: but for the pelicans, life-sprung kind story, [sir william sinclairs motto.] makes honour sing, virtute, et amore. nay, not by blood, as she her selfe can do, but by her paterne, feeding younglings too; for which this patrones crescent stands so stay, that neither spight, nor tempest, can shake maii: whose cutchions cleave so fast, to top, and side, portends to mee, his armes shall ever bide. so murckles armes are so, except the rose spred on the crosse, which bothwels armes disclose; whose uterine blood he is, and present brother to cathnes lord; all three sprung from one mother. bothwels prime heretrix, plight to hepburnes race, from whom religious murckles rose i trace, this countries instant shrieve: whose vertue rais'd his honoured worth, his godly life more prais'd. but now to rouze their rootes, and how they sprung, see how antiquity, times triumph sung. this scallet, worth them blanch'd, for endeavour and service done, to englands conquerour; with whom from france, they first to britaine came, sprung from a towne st. claire, now turn'd their name. whose predecessours, by their val'rous hand, wonne endlesse fame, twice in the holy land: where in that christian warre, their blood beene lost, they loath'd of gaule, and sought our albion coast. themselves to scotland came, in cammoires raigne with good queene margret, and her english traine. the ship from orknay sayl'd, now rul'd by charles, whereof they sinclairs, long time, had beene earles. whose lord then william, was by scotlands king, (call'd robert second, first, whence stewarts spring) sent with his second sonne, to france, cross'd james who eighteene yeares, liv'd captivate at thames. this prisner last turn'd king, call'd james the first, who sinclairs credit, kept in honours thirst: the galley was the badge of cathnes lords, as malcome cammoirs raigne at length records: which was to magnus given, for service done, against mackbaith, usurper of his crowne. the lyon came, by an heretrix to passe, by marriage; whose sire, was surnam'd dowglas. where after him, the sinclair now record, was shirefe of dumfreis, and nidsdales lord: whose wife was neece, to good king james the third; who for exchange, 'twixt wicke and southerne nidde did lands incambiat: whence this cathnes soile stands fast for them, the rest, their friends recoile. then circle-bounded cathnes, sinclairs ground, which pentland firth invirones, orknayes sound; whose top is dunkanes bay, the roote the ord; long may it long, stand fast for their true lord: and as long too, heavens grant what i require, the race of maii, may in that stocke aspire; till my age may last, times glasse be runne, for earths last darke ecclipse, of no more sunne. forsaking cathnes, i imbraced the trembling surges (at dungsby) of strugling neptune, which ingorgeth pentland or pitland firth with nine contrarious tides: each tide over-thwarting another with repugnant courses, have such violent streames, and combustious waves, that if these dangerous births be not rightly taken in passing over, the passengers shall quickely loose sight of life and land for ever: yea, and one of these tides so forcible, at the backe of stromaii, that it will carry any vessell backward, in despight of the winds, the length of its rapinous current. [a dangerous place in pentland firth.] this dreadfull firth is in breadth betweene the continent of cathnes, and the ile of south rannald-shaw in orknay twelve miles: and i denote this credibly, in a part of the north-west end of this gulfe, there is a certaine place of sea, where these destracted tydes make their rancountering randevouze, that whirleth ever about: cutting in the middle circle a devalling hole, with which if either ship or boat shall happen to encroach, they must quickly either throw over some thing into it, as a barrell, a piece of timber, and such like, or that fatall euripus shall then suddenly become their swallowing sepulcher. a custome which these bordering cathenians and orcadians have ever heretofore observed. arriv'd at south rannaldshaw an ile of five miles long, and thwarting the ile of burray, i sighted kirkwall, the metropole of pomonia, the mayne land of orknay, and the onely mistresse of all the circumjacent iles being thirty in number. the chiefest whereof (besides this tract of ground, in length twenty sixe, and broad five, sixe and seven miles) are the iles of sanda, westra, and stronza: kirkwall it selfe is adorned with the stately and magnifick church of st. magnus built by the danes, whose signiory with the iles lately it was; but indeed for the time present, more beautified with the godly life of a most venerable and religious bishop mr. george grahame: whom now i may tearme (soveraignity excepted) to be the father of the countries government, then an ecclesiasticke prelat: the inhabitants being left void of a governour, or solid patrone, are just become like to a broken battell, a scattered people without a head: having but a burges shreive to administer justice, and he too an aliene to them, and a resider in edenburgh: so that in most differences, and questions of importance, the plaintives are inforced to implore the bishop for their judge, and hee, the adverse party for redresse. [zetland mightily impoverished by corrupt governement.] but the more remote parts of this auncient little kingdome, as zetland, and the adjacent iles there; have found such a sting of deoccular government within these few yeares; that these once happy iles, which long agoe my feet traded over, are metamorphosed in the anatomy of succourlesse oppression, and the felicity of the inhabitants, reinvolved within the closet of a cittadinean cluster. but now referring the whole particulars, and dividuall descriptions of these septentrion iles, the mayne continent, and the gigantick hebridian iles, to my aforesayd worke to be published, intitulated lithgows surveigh of scotland, i send this generall verdict to the world: now having seene most part of thy selfe glore great kingdomes, ilands, stately courts, rich townes, most gorgeous showes, pomp-glory deckt renownes, hearbagious fields, the pelage-beating shoare propitious princes, prelats, potent crownes: smoake shadow'd times, curst churles, misers, clownes. impregnate forts, devalling floods, and more earth-gazing heights, vayle-curling plaines in store: court-rising honours, throwne on envies frownes; worme-vestur'd workes, enamild arts, wits lore: masse-marbled mansions, mineralls, coynd ore, state-superficiall showes, swift-glyding moones: i loath thy sight, pale streames, staine wattry eyne, whose glorious shades evanish, no more seene. and now to conclude, as a painter, may spoyle a picture, but not the face; so may some stoicall reader misconster and misconceave some parts of this eye-set history, though not able to marre the trueth of it: yet howsoever, here is the just relation of nineteene yeares travells, perfited in three deare-bought voyages: the generall computation of which dimmensious spaces, in my goings, traversings, and returnings, through kingdomes, continents, and ilands, which my paynefull feet traced over (besides my passages of seas and rivers) amounteth to thirty six thousand and odde miles, which draweth neare to twice the circumference of the whole earth. and so farewell. finis. notes [ ] somers tracts, vol. iv. p. , ed. . [ ] ibid. [ ] lithgow himself says nine weeks, but in the 'supplication of aquila wykes,' keeper of the marshalsea (calendar of state papers, domestic, vol. cliii, no. ), dated october th, , lithgow is mentioned as 'committed close prisoner febr. ' and still remaining in custody. [ ] he had already published in a short account of his travels, and of this a second impression was printed in . both these editions are extremely rare. [ ] calendar of state papers, domestic, vol. ccxxix. no. . the veiled man being an account of the risks and adventures of sidi ahamadou, sheikh of the azjar marauders of the great sahara by william le queux illustrations by alfred pearce the veiled man, by william le queux. ________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________ the veiled man, by william le queux. preface. author's note. the remarkable adventures of the notorious robber-sheikh ahamadou, "the abandoned of allah," once the terror of the areg desert, but now friendly to the french, were collected during a journey across the great sahara. in the belief that some description of the wild life of the desert, with its romance and mystery, told by one upon whose head a price was set for twelve years, and who a dozen times narrowly escaped capture, may interest those fond of adventure, i have translated, edited, and presented these reminiscences in their present form. chapter one. the city of the seven shadows. during half a century of constant wandering over the silent sunlit sands, of tribal feuds, of revolts, battle and pillage, of bitter persistent hatreds, of exploit, foray, and fierce resistance against the lounging spahis, cigarette-smoking zouaves, black-faced turcos, and swaggering chasseurs of the french, i have met with some curious adventures, and have witnessed wonders more remarkable, perhaps, than many of the romances related by the arab story-tellers. they mostly occurred before i was chosen sheikh of the azjar; when i was simply one of a band of desert-pirates, whose only possessions were a long steel lance, a keen, finely-tempered poignard, and a white stallion, the speed of which was unequalled by those of my companions. a thief i was by birth; a scholar i had become by studying the _tarik_, the _miraz_, the _ibtihadj_, and the koran, under the marabut essoyouti in algiers; a philosopher i fain would be. when riding over the great limitless red-brown sands, i was apt to forget the race whence i sprang, the learning that had made me wise, the logical reasonings of a well-schooled brain, and give myself up with all the rapture of an intense enthusiasm to the emotion of the hour. it was the same always. essoyouti, a scholar renowned throughout tripoli and tunis, had versed me in legendary lore, until i had become full of glowing fancies and unutterable longing to penetrate the entrancing mysteries to which he had so often referred as problems that could never be solved. i am a veiled man. openly, i confess myself a vagabond and a brigand. living here, in the heart of the great desert, six moons march from algiers, and a thousand miles beyond the french outposts, theft is, with my nomadic tribe, their natural industry--a branch of education, in fact. we augment the meagreness of our herds by extorting ransoms from some of our neighbours, and completely despoiling others. mention of the name of ahamadou causes the face of the traveller on any of the caravan routes between the atlas mountains and lake tsad to pale beneath its bronze, for as sheikh of the most powerful piratical tribe in the sahara, i have earned an unenviable notoriety as leader of "the breath of the wind," while the arabs themselves have bestowed upon my people three epithets which epitomise their psychology: "thieves, hyenas, and abandoned of allah." the only law recognised by my race, the touaregs, is the right of the strongest. we wear the black _litham_ wrapped about our faces, leaving only our noses and eyes visible, and never removing it, even at meal-times. it becomes so much a part of us that any one being deprived of his veil is unrecognisable to friends or relatives. if one of our number is killed, and divested of his veil, no one can identify him until it has been restored to its place. we are therefore known and dreaded as "the veiled men." my first journey by paths untrodden resulted strangely. for two whole moons a party of us, numbering nearly three hundred, all well-armed and desperate, had been lurking in a narrow ravine in the far south, known as the gueden, close to the point where it is crossed by the route taken by the caravans from lake tsad to el aghouat in algeria. news travels fast in the desert. we had received word that a caravan laden with ivory and gold-dust was on its way from kuka to timissao, and were awaiting it, with the intention either of levying toll, or attacking it with a view to plunder. in our sombre robes of dark blue kano cloth and black veils, we were a mysterious, forbidding-looking rabble. as day succeeded day, and we remained inactive, with scouts ever vigilant for the approach of our prey, i recollected that in the vicinity were some curious rocks, with inscriptions recording the mussulman conquest, and one morning, mounting my _meheri_, or swift camel, rode out to inspect them. the sun rose, and beneath its furnace heat i pushed on into the great waterless wilderness of tasili, the true extent of which is unknown even to us children of the desert, for the utter dearth of water there renders a journey of many days impossible. until the _maghrib_ hour i remained in the saddle, then dismounting, faced towards the holy ca'aba, recited my _fatihat_, ate a handful of dates, and squatted to smoke and watch the fading of the blood-red afterglow. on the next day, and the next, i journeyed forward over the wide monotonous plain, where the poison-wind fanned my brow like a breath from an oven, and nothing met the aching eye but glaring sand and far-off horizon, until, when my shadow lengthened on the sixth day after parting with my companions, i found myself within sight of a range of high hills, looming darkly against the brilliant sunset. well acquainted as i was with the geography of my native sands, i had never heard mention of these hills, and was therefore convinced that i had mistaken the route to the great black rock whereon the inscriptions were engraved, and was now approaching a region unexplored. on many occasions i had traversed the caravan route to timissao, and crossed the rocky ravine where my companions were now in ambush; but none of us had ever before left that track, clearly defined by its bleaching bones, for to the solitary traveller in that inhospitable region a pricked water-skin or a lame camel means death. with irrepressible awe i gazed upon the hills, clothed in the deep purple light of the descending sun, because of one strange thing my eyes had detected. i saw, above the serrated line, two cone-like peaks, rising close to one another, in majesty solemn and sublime, and recognised in them a scene exactly as described by my master essoyouti, in one of the curious romances he was fond of relating. i stood recalling every detail of the scene, just as i had imagined it when, seated under the vine, in the cool patio of his house, in the ancient kasbah at algiers, he had told me a story that held me breathless and entranced. worn with fatigue, exhausted and feverish from long exposure to the fiery sun, half stifled by the sand-laden wind, and riding a camel scarcely less jaded than myself, i confess that, despite my love of adventure, and by reason of the strangeness of the story i had heard, i contemplated with no little dread the prospect of passing that night alone within sight of those twin mountain-crests. twilight is brief in the desert, and soon the moon, having risen from behind a bank of cloud, afforded an uncertain light, which partly illuminated the prospect, and i sat hugging my knees and thinking deeply until sleep closed my eyes. before the appearance of the first saffron streak that heralds the sun's coming, i had recited a _sura_ and mounted, with my face set resolutely towards the unknown range. in the skin across my saddle i had only just sufficient water to enable me to return to our ambush, therefore i broke not my fast, determined to hoard up my frugal store. the sand was soft and treacherous. at every step my camel's spongy feet sank deeper and deeper, until, after a toilsome ride of three hours, we arrived near the foot of the two dark, ominous-looking mountains. then i pulled up, fearing to proceed further lest we should be overwhelmed by the quicksands. near me was a narrow pass between the two mountains, and shading my eyes with my hand, i was startled at beholding two gigantic figures standing on either side of the entrance. the sight of them confirmed my suspicion that i had approached the unknown, and with curiosity aroused, i urged my _meheri_ still forward, coming at last close up to the colossal figures. they were fashioned from enormous blocks of dark grey stone, ten times the height of a human being. one, carved to represent a beautiful woman, had her right hand lifted towards the sky, while the other, a forbidding-looking hag, with chipped, time-worn face still wearing a repulsive expression, pointed downward. between these colossal figures was a space of about thirty paces. according to the legend related by the sage essoyouti, and told by our story-tellers through ages, there existed beyond a land forbidden. i held my breath. i was about to view a country that had not been viewed; the ravine known in story as the valley of the ants. in eagerness i pressed onward, leading my camel, and passing up the stony valley until at length i came to a second and more fertile space of vast extent, covered entirely by the colossal ruins of a forgotten city. aghast, i stood gazing upon the remarkable and unexpected scene. ruined temples, with long rows of broken columns, and great houses cracked and fallen into decay, stood silent and deserted, grim, grey relics of a glorious past. here and there obelisks and colossi still stood, and the broad streets of the giant city were everywhere well-defined by the ruins, half-buried by drifting sand on either side. above, a single eagle soared high in the heavens, the only sign of life in that once populous and magnificent centre of a lost civilisation. having tethered my camel, i started forward through the ocean of soft sand that through centuries had drifted over the place, and as i did so the story of old essoyouti recurred to me. the appearance of the place agreed with the strange legend in almost every detail. the ruler of this gigantic capital had been balkis, the wealthy and luxurious queen mentioned in our book of everlasting will. this was actually the city of saba, once the wealthiest and most magnificent capital in the world. according to the legend of the sages, this place existed somewhere in the great desert, but whereabouts no man had been able to determine, although it was believed that its entrance was between two cone-like mountains, but surrounded by quicksands of so treacherous a nature that none dare approach it. with hurried footsteps i scrambled on over fallen columns and great blocks of hewn stone, with inscriptions in characters unknown to me, until suddenly my eyes were bewildered at beholding on the mountain-side an enormous palace, with beautiful terraces and pavilions, apparently in an excellent state of preservation. from the city it was approached by a long flight of wide stone steps, flanked on either side by a pair of colossal figures of similar design to those at the entrance of the valley of the ants. at first, i doubted that the scene before me was one of actual reality, but having reassured myself that i was not dreaming, and was entirely in possession of my senses, i gripped my long lance firmly, and started to ascend the thousand steps that gave access to the historic palace of balkis. hardly, however, had i placed my foot upon the first step, when my eyes were blinded by a lightning-flash, and my ears deafened by a crash of thunder, that, shaking the earth, resounded among the hills, until it became lost in innumerable echoes. i halted in suspicion, puzzled to account for the strange phenomenon, which seemed like some ominous warning. nothing daunted, however, i sprang up the steps, two by two, halting but once to regain breath, and in a few minutes entered the great, marvellously-sculptured portals of the magnificent dwelling-place of one of the most powerful and beautiful women the world ever knew. about to enter, my footsteps were suddenly arrested by the discovery that the floor of the palace was of running water, wherein fish disported themselves, and in the centre, raised upon a dais of ivory and gold, was the great empty throne of balkis, constructed entirely of chalcedony, amethysts, and rubies. the extent of my discoveries entranced me. i twisted up my robe, and prepared to wade through the water, when, on setting foot into it, i discovered to my amazement that the floor was of transparent glass, laid over the running water, thus keeping the palace uniformly cool during the hottest hours. on approaching the throne i at once became aware of its enormous value, and with my poignard prised from its setting one of the largest rubies my eyes had ever beheld. it was the size of a pigeon's egg, and of matchless colour. through the wonderful courts of the deserted palace i wandered, amazed at every turn. of gigantic proportions, with strange grotesque embellishments that clearly showed its ancient origin, it had stood here in the zenith of its magnificence ages before the days of the prophet, and for many centuries had remained hidden from the sight of man within that unknown valley. from the flat roof of one of its pavilions i stood gazing down upon the once mighty city, trying to reconstruct it in my imagination, and endeavouring to form an idea of its aspect in the long-past days, when the hosts of balkis went forth to battle, and when the beautiful queen herself flashed forth in her golden chariot, amid the wild plaudits of the multitude. many hours i spent in exploring this wonderful relic of a decayed civilisation, visiting pavilion after pavilion and finding most of them knee-deep in the accumulated dust of ages, until at last i came to a small chamber built right against the side of the mountain. this i entered, finding traces of the most extravagant luxury within. the decorations were richly ornamented with gold even now untarnished, the beams supporting the roof being set with gems which sparkled where a ray of sunlight fell upon them. beyond was a door which, on examination, proved to be of solid iron. on dragging it open there was disclosed a small, dark, and cavernous burrow into the mountain-side. minutely i examined this door, and finding thereon great bolts with sockets sunk deeply into the solid rock, it occurred to me that in this place might be hidden some of the treasure that the koran tells us was possessed by the great queen balkis. cupidity prompted me to search, and having constructed a large improvised torch, i propped open the door with a huge stone sculptured to represent a lion's paw, and started forward up the narrow gloomy tunnel. the natural sides of the cavern were rough, gleaming with long pendant stalactites; but soon it grew larger, and the air became so warm that the perspiration fell from my brow in big drops. one or two articles, old cross-hilted swords, a rusty, dinted helmet and a battered breastplate, showed that this place had long ago been frequented, therefore i pressed forward eagerly, hoping to discover that which would render me wealthy. the increasing heat within the cavern surprised me; nevertheless i went forward, my torch held high above my head, my eyes eagerly strained into the impenetrable gloom, and my feet stumbling ever and anon over the uneven ground, until suddenly a harsh grinding noise fell upon my ears, and next second a crushing blow fell full upon my skull, felling me like a log and rendering me unconscious. how long i remained in that dark stifling tunnel i have no idea. when, slowly and painfully, i opened my eyes i found that my veil had been removed, my brow deftly bandaged, and my fevered head was resting upon a woman's cool hand. a soft feminine voice gave me "peace," and turning i saw by the light of a burning brazier that my companion was a girl of wondrous beauty. her face was of the pure arab type, her complexion white as those of the englishwomen who come to biskra at ramadan; her little skull-cap was thickly embroidered with seed-pearls, and her bracelets and anklets, set with beautiful diamonds, gleamed with a thousand iridescent fires at each movement. at first i fancied myself dreaming, but when at length i entirely recovered consciousness, i recognised that we were together in a small apartment hung with heavy hangings of thick dark crimson stuffs. the golden perfuming-pan diffused an intoxicating odour of attar of roses, and the silken couch whereon i reclined was soft, restful, and spacious. turning to my companion who, instantly divining my longing, handed me water in a crystal goblet, i enquired where i was. "thou art with a friend," she answered. "thou hast dared to enter the city of the seven shadows bent on plunder, and the wrath hath fallen upon thee." "didst thou discover me?" i asked, raising myself upon my elbow, and looking at her. she nodded, and with bent head sat with her luminous dark eyes fixed upon the ground. "thou hast entered this, the city upon which the seven lights of the heavens have cast the shadows of their wrath, and where all who enter are accursed," she exclaimed at last, speaking slowly and impressively. "thou earnest hither with evil intent, to secure the treasure of balkis. yet out of evil cometh good, for in thee i have found a companion in adversity." "in adversity!" i echoed. "what art thou?" "i am balkis, sole lineal descendant of the great queen who ruled over saba, and guardian of her treasure," she answered. "i am a queen without court; a ruler without people. the palace that thou hast inspected is mine; the throne from the arm of which thou hast filched the great ruby is my lonely seat of royalty; for i am queen of a dead city. although i am bearer of the historic name of balkis, and possess treasure of greater worth than men have ever dreamed, my subjects number only fourteen persons, all of whom are my relatives and live here with me in this my palace. as thou hast already seen, our once-powerful city with its fifty brazen gates hath fallen into decay because of the curse placed upon it by allah. the teeming populace that once crowded its thoroughfares and market-places have dwindled down until mine own family only are left, the last of a long illustrious, world-famed line. soon, alas! i, too, shall pass into the grave, and the royal house of balkis will become extinct," and her jewel-laden breast rose and fell slowly in a long deep-drawn sigh. "why speakest thou in tone so melancholy?" i asked. "thou hast youth, health, long life, everything before thee!" "no," she answered gravely, with her white pointed chin still resting thoughtfully upon her palm. "already i am threatened; nay, i am doomed." "how?" i enquired, incredulously. "listen, and i will explain," she said, slowly, raising her beautiful eyes to mine. "about two moons ago, attired in the _haick_ of an arab woman, i journeyed with my aged uncle to in salah, in order to make purchases in the market, as is our custom twice each year. on our return hither we came across an encampment of those red-legged dogs of french, and having accepted the hospitality of their tents through several days on account of the sand-storms, i was surprised and annoyed by receiving a declaration of love from the young lieutenant in charge, whose name was victor gaillard, and whose home, he told me, was in paris. believing me to be daughter of an arab merchant, he announced his readiness to take me to algiers and make me his wife; but hating these youthful irresponsible masters of our land, i declined that honour. he then declared that at all costs i should be his, for at the end of the year he was going north to the seashore, where he would be quartered until the spring, and that if i escaped him he and his host who ruled the desert would treat me and my people as rebellious, and shoot us down like dogs. i laughed his declaration to scorn, for he little dreamed of my real name, birth, and dwelling-place. next day i remained in the encampment, but on the following night, by bribing one of the spahi sentries with a ring from my finger, i and my uncle managed to escape, and, beneath the crescent moon, pushed our way forward in the direction of saba. through four days we travelled almost incessantly, until at midnight on the fifth our camels' feet sank deep into the quicksands that render the entrance to saba unapproachable. laughing as i congratulated myself on my cleverness at outwitting him, i had gone some hundred paces when, chancing to glance back, i saw not far away, hesitating at the edge of the treacherous belt of ground, a single horseman. the glint of moonlight on his bright scabbard showed him to be an officer of the roumis, and instantly i recognised the slim silhouette of victor gaillard. he sat motionless in his saddle, and with his field-glass raised calmly watched our difficult progress towards the two colossal statues which have guarded the entrance to our city from the day of king solomon. my uncle, noticing my alarm, also turned and detected our pursuer. that night, before my family assembled in the palace, i explained the whole of the facts, and they, knowing how relentless are these harsh infidel rulers of ours, unanimously decided upon flight. but i declined to leave. was i not balkis, queen of saba? was not the great store of gold and jewels given into my keeping that i should remain and watch them until i drew my last breath? they urged me to accompany them into the mountains, but finding me obdurate all fled, leaving me alone to face the unscrupulous man who had declared that at all costs i should become his wife. ten weary anxious days have since gone by. yesterday thou earnest hither, thy face wrapped in thy black _litham_, and naturally i supposed thou wert the accursed infidel in disguise. i watched thee explore my palace and enter to the cave wherein my treasure lieth concealed. when thou hadst entered i breathed more freely, full well knowing that thou hadst gone forward into thy grave." "how? is the tunnel azotic?" "no. within is an ingenious mechanical contrivance which was constructed by balkis herself, whereby the unsuspecting intruder releases a spring, and is struck down by a great iron mace." "i was struck," i observed. she nodded, smiling sadly. "when i went forward to ascertain whether mine enemy still lived i found thy veil unloosened, and that thy features were not those of the hateful frank. then i tended thee throughout the night, and at dawn thou didst rally and art now rapidly recovering." "of a verity i had a narrow escape." "assuredly thou didst. many others, as adventurous and stout-hearted as thyself, have met their fate at that spot." "so thou hast remained here alone and single-handed to guard the treasure of thine ancestor against the pilfering of the franks?" i said, regarding the beautiful, frail-looking girl with admiration. "assuredly thou art as courageous as the great balkis who defied the combined powers of the ancient world." she sighed. "it hath been the duty of the queens of saba to remain within their kingdom even if evil threatened and all forsake them. i will never be wife of a frank, neither will i exhibit fear to these new rulers of the desert who are led by amorous youths from paris boulevards," she answered, drawing herself up with queenly hauteur. "peradventure he only useth idle threats," i observed. "no. the franks who conquered algeria and hold it beneath the thraldom of the religion they call christianity, are our rulers also. he ordered me to remain in the encampment on pain of being outlawed. i disobeyed; therefore i and my people are rebels. that he will return and seek me out i am convinced." "then why not fly?" i suggested. "i will take thee to where my tribe, are encamped. although we are thieves and brigands, thou, a woman, wilt nevertheless meet with chivalrous treatment at our hands." she shook her head, and with dogged persistence announced her intention of remaining, while, on my part, i promised to render her whatever assistance lay in my power. "then first help me to remove the throne into the treasure-house," she said, and opening a door that had been concealed behind the heavy hangings she led me into the great hall where water flowed beneath its pavement of glass. together we dragged the bejewelled seat of royalty through several courts, until we came to the small pavilion which gave entrance to the cavern. then, while she carried a flaming flambeau, i toiled on with it after her. when we had gone some distance into the heart of the mountain she stooped to secure the ancient mechanism so that the iron mace could not again descend, and advancing some further distance we found ourselves in a kind of _cul-de-sac_, with only a black wall of rock before us. to the right, however, was a cunningly-concealed door which gave entrance to a spacious natural chamber, wherein i saw, heaped indiscriminately, the most wondrous collection of golden ornaments and brilliant jewels my eyes had ever gazed upon. some of them i took up, holding them in my hand in wonderment. the gems were of the first water, the spoils taken in battle by the notorious queen once feared by all the world, while heaped everywhere were bejewelled breast-plates, gem-encrusted goblets, golden dishes, and swords with hilts and scabbards thickly set with precious stones. wheresoever i trod there were scattered in the fine white dust strings of pearls, uncut gems, rings, and ear-ornaments, while all around were piled great immovable boxes of hewn stone, like coffins, securely clamped with rusting iron. these had never been opened, and contained, according to the story of my companion, the tribute of enormous worth sent by king solomon to balkis. these i examined carefully, one after another, at length discovering one, the stone of which had split so that a small aperture was formed. i placed my hand inside and withdrew it, holding between my thumb and finger three cut diamonds, the like of which i had never before beheld. the stone box was filled to the brim with gems of every kind. in wonderment i was standing, contemplating this vast wealth of a vanished nation, when my fair conductress exclaimed-- "there is still one other marvel about this place. listen! canst thou hear a sound?" distinctly i heard a dull, monotonous boom, which had continued uninterruptedly ever since we had been there. "yea. what is its cause?" i asked. "the interior of this mountain is as a fiery furnace. that roaring is the unquenchable flame that has burned therein through ages. during mine own remembrance as a child smoke hath issued from the cone above, and so near are we to the fiery interior here in this treasure-house that its very walls are warm." upon the rock i placed my hand, and so hot was it that i was compelled to withdraw it instantly. only a thin partition of stone apparently divided us from the mysterious fathomless crater. "one of the beliefs that have come down unto me through ages," balkis said, "is that within this place is al-hawiyat, the dwelling prepared for infidels and pagans, where their food shall be offal, and they shall slake their thirst with boiling pitch." "allah is mighty and wise," i answered. "alone he knoweth the hearts of his servants. may perfect peace remain ever upon thee." "and upon thee, o ahamadou," she responded, raising her bright eyes earnestly to mine. "now that i have shown thee this, the wealth of my ancestors, thou wilt promise never to conspire to gain possession of it while any of my family remain here in saba." "although of a tribe of thieves, i swear by allah's might that never will i expose thy secret, nor will i seek to possess myself of what is thine," i answered. "thy family shall ever be as mine, for i am no abuser of the salt." "in thee do i place my trust," she answered, allowing her soft hand, the hand that had so deftly bandaged my injured brow and bathed my face--to linger for an instant within my grasp. then, drawing from my pouch the great lustrous ruby i had stolen, i handed it back to her. but she made me retain it as _souvenir_ of my visit to saba, the city forgotten. the atmosphere in the treasure-house was stifling. having, therefore, deposited the throne of balkis in fitting place, we left, returning through the concealed door to the narrow burrow which had exit in the small pavilion. side by side we slowly crossed court after court of the great palace which had witnessed pageants of such magnificence that their splendour has been proverbial till this day, she pointing out the principal objects of interest, halting to explain curious sculptured wall-pictures and inscriptions commemorating the triumphs of the great queen, or pausing to recall some long-forgotten story of love, hatred, or malice connected with the spot whereon we stood. in that mellow sunset-hour, as we lingered together beneath the cool shadows, i learnt more of the historic, time-effaced empire of balkis than savants have ever known. as scholar, it delighted me to hear it from the lips of one who had descended in the direct royal line from that famous woman, who, according to our sura, entitled "the ant," became convinced during her visit to solomon that, by worshipping the sun she had dealt unjustly with her own soul, and resigned herself unto allah, the lord of all creatures. she had given me some wine and dates, and we had passed through the great hall with its transparent pavement and out upon the terrace before the palace when, of a sudden, a loud cry escaped her. "see!" she gasped, dismayed. "see! the franks are here!" next second a hulking zouave who had secreted himself behind one of the great sculptured columns sprang upon her. she uttered a loud scream; but, ere he could secure her hands, i had drawn my poignard and dealt him an unerring blow, causing him to reel and fall back heavily upon the stones. a dozen soldiers, headed by victor gaillard, their evil-faced, narrow-browed, moustached officer in his gold-laced uniform and cherry-coloured trousers, had nearly gained the top of the steps. but the ugly sight of blood had already unnerved my fair companion, who, turning quickly to me, cried-- "let us fly! follow me. there is but one way to escape." she rushed away, and i followed, our pursuers close at our heels. i no longer wore my black _litham_, therefore the elegant youth from paris, sent by the french to rule the dwellers of the desert, could not have been aware that i was a touareg, one of the bandits of the azjar, whom he amused himself by hunting when inclined for sport. onward we sped, crossing court after court, until we again entered the subterranean burrow, and groping along it in the darkness, my companion found at last another secret door, which she opened, pushed me into it, and entering herself, closed it. then we listened. there was no sound. apparently our pursuers had not dared to follow us there. "this," she explained beneath her breath, "leadeth by a secret way out upon the mountain-side. we may yet escape." upward we toiled in a tunnel so narrow that ofttimes we were compelled to crawl upon hands and knees, yet ever ascending, and feeling our way, we at last, after half an hour's frantic effort, saw a faint glimmer of light above, and succeeded in emerging upon the bare rocky side of the giant mountain. "let us mount still higher and pass along to the other side," she urged. "i know the path." together we started off in the fast falling gloom, when suddenly i heard an exclamation in french, and, looking down, saw gaillard, with three of his zouaves below us, scrambling up as quickly as they were able. instantly i saw that their further progress was barred by a sheer cliff of rock quite fifty feet in height, and that we were in a position impregnable. balkis, noticing our situation, also turned towards him with a low scornful laugh. next instant the fierce uncurbed anger of this young _boulevardier_ found vent, for, with a loud imprecation in french he declared that she should never escape him, and ere i could divine his intention he had snatched a rifle from the man standing at his side and covered the woman he had desired to marry. i sprang quickly towards my fellow-fugitive; but ere i could drag her down to earth, our only cover, there was a flash, a loud report, and balkis, with a shrill shriek, stumbled forward mortally wounded, and rolling helplessly down the mountain-side, fell dead almost at the very feet of her brutal murderer. the gold-braided officer laughed. it was one of the most heartless assassinations i had ever witnessed, but knowing that efforts would undoubtedly be made to shoot me also, i threw myself upon my stomach and crawled upward quickly with hands and toes. "see, men; i have brought down the dainty little bird!" i heard gaillard exclaim, as he walked to where the body was lying crumpled in a heap. "give me her necklaces and bracelets. the rest of her jewels you may divide. she was merely a rebel. it is our duty to repress revolt, even though we may sometimes be compelled to shoot women." the zouaves ruthlessly tore the jewels from the body of the last remaining daughter of the queen of saba, while their lieutenant amused himself by firing at me. a dozen shots he sent after me, but all the bullets sang over my head, until at last, when the darkness became complete, i halted, breathless, behind a projection of rock, and there waited, watching from my elevated position the camp fires lighted, and the soldiers exploring the deserted ruins by the aid of flambeaux. once during the night i thought i heard a noise like thunder, and distinctly felt the mountain tremble. but soon after dawn i had the satisfaction of seeing our enemies strike their camp and march slowly out towards the plain. the few jewels they found about the palace they had divided among themselves, and were apparently in high glee. having remained in hiding three hours after their departure i descended, passing the body of the hapless balkis, already surrounded by a screaming crowd of grey vultures, and, re-entering the palace to ascertain the extent of the depredations of the franks, i was amazed to discover a dense black smoke issuing from the pavilion before the mouth of the cave. i tried to advance, but sulphurous fumes almost overcame me. instantly i discerned the truth. the thin partition of rock which divided the treasure-house from the burning crater within had been broken through, and the suppressed fire of the volcano was issuing in great volume from the burrow, together with quantities of molten lava and ashes which have since entirely overwhelmed the ruins. three years afterwards i had occasion to travel to algiers to see gaillard, then raised to a responsible position in the bureau arabe, regarding a zouave whom we had captured and afterwards set free. i casually mentioned the buried ruins of the forgotten city of the seven shadows at the spot he knew so well, but he merely replied-- "ah! yes, i know. i once explored them and found a curious cave there in the side of the mountain. i blew it up with dynamite in order that it should not be used as a hiding-place by any of your veiled tribe. the explosion, however, much to our dismay, opened a suppressed volcano, with the result that fire issued forth, killing all six of our men who performed the work." victor gaillard, although now a colonel, and back in his beloved paris, where he sits in the chamber of deputies as representative of a constituency in the alpes maritimes, does not know that by the irresponsible use of his explosive he lost for ever the greatest collection of gold and jewels that has ever been brought together. the only single gem of the vast treasure of balkis that has been preserved is the magnificent blood-red ruby which at this moment adorns my sword-hilt. in both colour and size it is matchless. never can i handle that weapon without reflecting upon its tragic story, or without visions rising to my eyes of the beautiful queen who reigned so briefly over her vanished and forgotten kingdom. chapter two. a sappho of the sand. throughout our breathless land of sun and silence there is a well-known adage that the word of a veiled man is like water poured upon sand which, when once dropped, is never to be recovered. i am, alas, compelled to admit that there is much truth in this; nevertheless, to every rule there is an exception, and in every tribe of the touaregs, from those of the tidikelt to those of the adrar, are to be found men who are not thieves or evil-doers, even though they may be marauders. those acquainted with the progress of recent events in algeria will remember that when our brothers, the kabyles, rose against our now masters, the french, and committed the terrible massacres at al-setit, news was promptly circulated over every one of the vast saharan plains that the forces of al-islam had, at last, risen against the infidels. eager for the fray, most of the desert tribes, among them the touaregs of the benin sissin, haratin, and kel-owi, or "people of the light," united against the roumis. hence, we of the azjar pressed northward in force in order to unite with the warlike beni-mzab in a formidable attack upon the french posts at gardaia and wargla, south of the great atlas range. assembling at the el gettara oasis we left our women, old men, and children encamped, crossed the high sunbaked lands of the tademayt, then, passing up the rocky waterless valley of the miya, traversed the region of bare red sand-hills known as the erg, and leaving wargla fifty miles to the east, set our camels' heads towards metlili, halting one day's march off that town. in ordinary circumstances we should never have dared to approach so near the sphere of french influence, especially as this was the region of the beni-mzabs, who zealously guarded any encroachment upon their territory. but war had been declared against the infidel, and the shorfa (faithful) were uniting beneath the green banner of al-islam. at high noon we halted, and soon afterwards there appeared a french colonel with a large escort of his scarlet-burnoused spahis. the officer, who had ridden from metlili to intercept us, was received courteously by tamahu, our sheikh. he demanded the payment of taxes, but the proud old man whom i have since succeeded answered, "tell that lord of yours, that if he wants our taxes he can come for them himself, and we will make sure he gets them, in silver coins too, for we will roll each franc into a bullet, and deliver it to him ourselves." the colonel declared that the taxes must be paid, but our sheikh courteously requested the infidel and his horsemen to return to the town. "then you intend fighting?" the colonel asked, at last. "we do," answered tamahu. "tell thy lord that the breath of the wind decline to make submission to the french." "you intend attacking metlili?" the officer enquired, thoughtfully, twirling his pointed moustache. our sheikh nodded, his keen eyes watching the face of the infidel. the latter's countenance grew grave, whereat we, standing around leaning on our spears, laughed in derision. "thou art of the great army of the infidels," tamahu said. "yet thy face palest when we speak of conflict!" the officer started, and knit his grey brows. "i fear not thine host of veiled men, fierce and relentless though ye be. true, i am a soldier, but one thing alone i dread." "thou fearest to lose thy life," observed our sheikh, knowing that the garrison at that little desert town was but small and weak. "for myself i care nothing," the colonel answered. "it is the fate of my daughter that i fear." "thy daughter! why is she here, in the desert, so far from algiers?" "not having seen me for four years she travelled from paris a moon ago to visit me. both my captain and my lieutenant have died of fever, and we two are now the only europeans in metlili. the rising of thy tribesmen hath occurred so unexpectedly, or i would have sent her under escort back to the coast." "is thy daughter a child?" asked tamahu. "she is nineteen," answered the officer, whose name he informed us was colonel bonnemain. we at once knew him by repute as a distinguished traveller and soldier. "thou knowest what is said of the word of a touareg," the sheikh said, regarding him keenly. the colonel nodded. "canst thou trust these my tribesmen with the escort of thy daughter?" tamahu asked. "if thou wilt, no harm shall befall her. we have agreed with the mzabs to attack and pillage thy town, because thou, with thine horsemen, hast established a post therein; therefore it must be done. but the azjars wage not war upon women, and ere we commence the attack thy daughter shall find safe asylum within our camp." for a moment the colonel hesitated, looking intently into the dark, bright eyes of our aged headman. but seeing honesty and truth mirrored in his face the infidel held out his hand, and in silence more eloquent than words gripped that of his enemy. at last his tongue's strings became loosened. "henceforth, although i am an officer of the french, and compelled to fight against thee, i am nevertheless thy friend, and some day will prove my friendship. gabrielle shall be within thy camp at dawn." "the azjars will give her the welcome of friends," answered our sheikh. with a brief expression of heartfelt thanks colonel bonnemain vaulted lightly into his saddle, and wishing us "peace," spurred away to where his troop of expectant spahis awaited him. "may allah guard thee and thine!" answered tamahu in response to the infidel's salutation, and a moment later our enemies were riding hard away towards the far-off horizon. the long breathless afternoon went slowly by. we had not encamped, because we knew not when our allies, the beni-mzabs, might approach, and rapidity of movement was of urgent necessity, inasmuch as a formidable french column was on the march. spent by long travel, the majority of us stretched ourselves on the hot sands and slept, leaving half-a-dozen to act as sentinels and prevent surprise; but at the _maghrib_ hour all were awakened by the clear voice of our aged marabout reciting the _fatihat_. every man, without exception, knelt upon the sand, his back turned upon the blaze of crimson in the west, and recited the _suras_, praying to allah to prosper our expedition. when we arose, tamahu, his right hand raised to heaven, and his left grasping his gleaming spear, exhorted us to remain faithful, and to bear arms bravely against the infidels. "ye are called forth against a mighty and a warlike nation," he exclaimed. "ye shall fight against them, or they shall profess islam. if ye obey, allah will, of a verity, give you a glorious reward; but if ye turn back he will chastise you with a grievous chastisement. allah has promised you many spoils, which ye should take; and he giveth these by way of earnest; and he restraineth the hand of man from you; and the same may be a sign unto the true believers; and he guideth you in the right way. allah knoweth that which ye know not; and he hath appointed you, besides this, a speedy victory." long and earnestly the old sheikh addressed us, quoting from our book of everlasting will to emphasise his declarations. then he referred to the compact he had that day made with the leader of our enemies. "a woman of the franks we shall receive into this our camp. remember, o my people, that she will partake of our salt, and that while this war continueth she is our friend. let not a single hair of her head be injured. the word of thy sheikh tamahu hath already been given." that evening we spent in sharpening our spears and shangermangors, preparatory to the fight, singing snatches of war-songs and discussing the prospects of the attack. perhaps of all the tribes in the trackless solitudes which constitute our home, we of the azjar are among the most active, vigorous, and enterprising, inured as we are to hardships, and with our mental faculties sharpened almost to a preternatural degree by the hard struggle for existence in our arid rocky fastnesses. the rearing of oxen, horses, and goats is our chief occupation, but the scarcity of water and our speedy exhaustion of the scanty pasturage of the oases keep us perpetually on the march. agriculture is scarcely possible under a sky from which rain does not fall for six or eight consecutive years; therefore it is, perhaps, not surprising that we have developed into desert-pirates. those who have never set foot upon the saharan plains can possess but a vague idea of their appearance. in the whole of the great desert, a track comprising over two million square miles, there is not a single carriage-road, not a mile of navigable waters, not a wheeled vehicle, canoe, or boat of any kind. there are scarcely even any beaten tracks, for most of the routes, though followed for ages without divergence of any kind, are temporarily effaced by every sandstorm, and recovered only by means of the permanent landmarks--wells, prominent dunes, a solitary eminence crowned with a solitary bush, the remains of travellers, slaves, or camels that may have perished of thirst or exhaustion between the stations. long and patiently we waited for the arrival of the woman to whom we had promised protection; but although the night passed, the dawn rose, and the hours crept on towards the noon, our vigilance remained unrewarded. a second day passed in inactivity, then, wearied of waiting, we struck camp and moved forward. the afterglow had deepened into evening dusk when at length we came within sight of metlili. looming high up on a pinnacle of rock, white against the clear sky, its appearance astonished us, for it looked impregnable. its flat-roofed houses rose tier upon tier around an exceedingly steep eminence crowned by a great mosque with high square minaret, while at the foot of the hill were some scattered date-groves. we had passed over the summit of a sand ridge, and were making a dash straight upon the french stronghold, when we noticed that our presence had already been detected. upon the walls a few spahis in scarlet and some white-burnoused arabs were moving hurriedly. suddenly there was a flash from the kasbah, followed by a report, loud, sharp, echoless. our enemies had opened fire upon us. tamahu instantly gave the word to spur forward on the wings of haste. with one accord we rode in a huge compact body so swiftly as to justify our popular appellation "the breath of the wind," and, regardless of a rapid rifle-fire that was poured out from the white walls, pressed forward to the foot of the rock. here we dismounted, and with loud yells of savage rage dashed up the rough narrow way that gave entrance to the town. many of my companions fell dead or wounded ere they reached the hastily-barred gate, but by dint of fierce and dogged determination, we pushed forward in force so great that we managed to at last batter down the huge wooden doors. next second we poured into the place in overwhelming numbers. up its steep streets, so narrow that two asses could not pass abreast, we engaged spahis and zouaves hand-to-hand. so strong was our force that soon we overwhelmed them, and commenced loud cries of triumph as we dashed up towards the kasbah. suddenly, however, as we approached it we saw that its walls literally swarmed with french soldiers who, at word of command, fired a withering volley from their rifles which caused us to hold back dismayed. colonel bonnemain had evidently received reinforcements. with their firearms they were more than a match for us. "courage, brothers!" i heard tamahu cry as he brandished his spear. "let us show these dogs of infidels that the touaregs are no cowards. of a verity the roumis shall never be our masters." with set teeth we sprang forward towards the high sun-blanched walls of the citadel, determined to take it by assault, but alas! its battlements were full of well-armed spahis and turcos, and from every point showers of lead swept down upon us. still we kept on undaunted. once i caught a momentary glimpse of colonel bonnemain. he was standing upon the wall bareheaded, shouting and waving his sword. but only for an instant. he disappeared, and was seen no more. almost at the same instant a loud incessant spitting of guns deafened us; bullets swept through our ranks in deadly hail, killing us by dozens and maiming hundreds. then, dismayed, i saw mounted on the wall a strange-looking weapon, which once charged shed rifle-balls in hundreds. death seemed inevitable. my companions, appalled by the sight of that terrible engine of destruction, wavered for an instant, then, with a cry that eblis was assisting the infidels, turned and fled. above the din of battle tamahu shouted himself hoarse. but darkness having now fallen, none could discern him amid the dense smoke and constant flashing of the guns. thus the defenders drove us back, sweeping us away with their deadly machine-gun, and, making a sortie from the fortress, bayonetted the more valiant ones. our cause seemed lost. as soon, however, as we had drawn the spahis outside their fort, we turned, and re-engaging them hand-to-hand, quickly hacked our way back to the very gates of the kasbah, the streets in the vicinity being heaped with dead and dying. suddenly, however, at the moment when we were relinquishing our hope as a forlorn one, loud shouts, followed by the beating of tam-tams, gave us renewed courage. from mouth to mouth the glad tidings were repeated. the beni-mzabs, one of the most powerful tribes on the desert border, had come up, and being our allies, were rendering us assistance. of the exciting moments which immediately succeeded, i have but vague remembrance. suffice it to say that the warlike race of the atlas to the number of two thousand poured into metlili, and with our forces combined we succeeded in dislodging and totally annihilating the french garrison. everywhere throughout the town fighting quickly became general, but in such numbers had we now assembled that those holding the kasbah were compelled to sue for peace. the beni-mzabs declined, however, to give quarter, consequently the scenes of bloodshed were terrible to behold. before dawn the sack of the town had commenced, and everywhere the firebrand was applied. the loot obtainable was, we found, of very little value, nevertheless both the beni-mzabs and our own tribesmen were in high glee at their first success against the infidel forces. it was regarded as precursory of a great victory. just as the sun was rising i was inside the ancient citadel so recently the infidel stronghold, and was exploring its many courts with their old blue-tiled fountains and cool, handsome colonnades, when suddenly as i passed beneath an archway in the thickness of the wall a noise startled me. my companions in arms were regaling themselves in an open square before the great white mosque, therefore i was alone. around me lay many bodies of touaregs, spahis, and beni-mzabs, while some of the wounded were still groaning, dying slowly, for there had been no attempt to succour the disabled. to fall in a holy war is not a misfortune, but the reverse. the noise, a loud knock, again sounded, and turning i saw a bolted door, which i at once opened, and was confronted by a pretty dark-haired french girl, who, glancing at me in terror for an instant, screamed and fled down a flight of stone stairs into an impenetrable darkness. in a moment i dashed after her. already the kasbah had been set on fire, and to save her life instant escape was necessary. below, in the small foul stone chamber, used long ago as a prison, i discovered her crouching. she screamed loudly at my approach, fearing me, perhaps, because of the mysterious black veil across my face, and knowing that the veiled men were of evil repute. "thou art mademoiselle gabrielle, daughter of our friend colonel bonnemain," i exclaimed in the best french i could articulate. "fear not, but fly at once with me, or we may both lose our lives." "how knowest thou my name?" she gasped in amazement. by the glimmer of light that came from the open court above i saw that her face was beautiful but deathly pale. "true, i am daughter of colonel bonnemain, but thou art a touareg. assuredly thou art our enemy, not our friend. why, it was thine hosts who attacked us!" briefly i explained the promise of our sheikh, assuring her of our friendship. at first she was inclined to doubt my sincerity, but at length i prevailed upon her to accompany me in our race for life from the burning ruins. quickly we sought tamahu, and as there were no women with us she was at once placed under my protection. i was to be her guardian and her champion during the remainder of hostilities. long and earnestly we both searched and enquired for her father, the colonel, but could discover no trace of him. some of his spahis who survived declared that he had been struck down in the earlier hours of the conflict, while others maintained that they had seen him fighting uninjured up to the very last. from our enquiries it appeared evident that, on receiving unexpected reinforcements from the north, he had determined upon holding out against us, and overlooking our agreement with the beni-mzabs, was ill-advised enough to decline our good offices. then, when he found an attack in force being made, he locked gabrielle in a place of safety until the fight should end. full of excitement were those days that followed. i must, however, here confess that within twenty-four hours i found myself deeply attached to this bright-eyed fragile girl whoso gallant father had disappeared so mysteriously. we, of the azjars, leaving the prosperous town of metlili a mere pile of smoking ruins, encamped for a few days in the vicinity where there was an excellent well, then together with the fierce horsemen of the beni-mzab set our heads towards wargla, another french outpost. at first gabrielle felt the fatigue of travel terribly. fortunately she could ride well, and as her inseparable companion, i endeavoured to render her journey as comfortable as possible. at my suggestion she had exchanged her european clothes for the _serroual_ and _haick_ of the arab women, finding that mode of dress more comfortable and less conspicuous than her own; and so light-hearted she grew that not unfrequently she would join me in a cigarette. her grace and manner charmed us all. the fierce horsemen of the azjar and the beni-mzab are scarcely chivalrous where women are concerned, but ere we had been on the march three days there was not a single tribesman who would not execute her slightest wish. riding day by day over the breathless solitudes of sand, no single word of complaint ever escaped her. whenever we halted, before she ate she would busy herself in attending to our wounded; sometimes bandaging an arm or a leg, at others pouring out water and handing it to a thirsty man with a pleasing smile that quickened his pulse. then, after we had eaten and turned our faces to the holy ca'aba, she would take an old spanish mandoline which one of my companions had picked up cheap long ago in oran, and play and sing to us in a sweet contralto songs from her own far-off paris. they were mostly gay _chansons_, such as one hears in the _cafes_ in algiers, and those with refrains were sung lustily in chorus by the whole of the great assembly. one night after she had given us several songs i persuaded her to dance. to those unaccustomed to life in the desert the scene would have appeared a strange one. the bright moonlight shining full upon her, tipped also with silver the keen heads of a couple of thousand spears upon which her audience leaned. she had fascinated them. unanimously it had been declared that she was an enchantress. only one fact remained to mar her happiness: her uncertainty regarding her father's fate. "i will dance on one condition, ahamadou," she answered in french, throwing back her pretty head and showing her white teeth as she laughed. "what is that?" "i will dance if thou wilt take off that hideous black veil. thou hast been my friend all this time, yet, strangely enough, i have never beheld thy face." i hesitated. such a demand was unusual, for a touareg never removes his veil. my companions overhearing, and noticing my disinclination to acquiesce, with one accord urged me to accede, and at last, amid much good humour, i unwound my black _litham_. long and earnestly she looked into my eyes. her gaze lingered upon me strangely, i thought; then suddenly clapping her hands, she raised her long white arms above her head, and to the thumping of four _derboukas_, one of which i held, she commenced a slow graceful dance. never tired of exerting herself to comfort the wounded or amuse those who were her father's bitterest foes, she danced on until she sank completely out of breath. then she reclined upon the soft rugs spread for her, and, with tamahu and myself, smoked a cigarette in silence. from her full red lips she blew clouds of smoke, and watched it curl upward in the still night air. i glanced at her furtively, and saw that she had grown unusually thoughtful. her brilliant eyes were fixed upon the stars. at last, pillowing her handsome head upon a leopard's skin i rolled and placed for her, she wished me "peace," and presently closed her eyes in sleep. silence, dead and complete, had fallen upon the camp. the stillness was only broken by the uneasy groaning of a camel or the soft footfall of a sentry whose spear gleamed afar in the white moonbeams. gabrielle's heart slowly heaved and fell as she slept. through that calm night i sat, hugging my knees and thinking deeply. try how i would, i could not get rid of the one thought that for days had possessed me, the thought of her. that she had entranced me; that she held me in her toils irrevocably, i could not deny. never before had i looked upon any woman with affection until now. but i loved with all my heart and soul this delicate roumi, whose fair face the sun had never kissed. was it not in order to behold my countenance she had that evening requested me to remove my _litham_? her every word, her every action, now that i recalled them, showed plainly that she did not regard me with disfavour. the moon waned, the stars paled, and dawn was nigh ere i cast myself upon the warm sand near her, and snatched a brief hour's repose, not, however, before i had carefully placed a rug about her, fearing lest the morning dew, so deadly to europeans, should chill her. one bright balmy night we reached el okaz, and halted. it was a large oasis with running water, luxuriant vegetation, and many palms. when the _maghrib_ had been said, the evening meal eaten, and the sun was slowly sinking, i went forth among the trees to search for camel-grass, and invited gabrielle to accompany me. she walked by my side, and when we were out of hearing i took her tiny hand in mine, and, raising it reverently to my lips, declared my love. slowly, but resolutely, she drew her hand away. the last ray of sunlight tipped her hair with molten gold as we stood together beneath a great high palm. her brilliant eyes glistened with unshed tears. "alas! no, ahamadou," she answered huskily. "we must not love each other, it would wreck both our lives." "why not?" i cried passionately, my arm around her waist, her slim white hand raised again to my lips. "i adore you. to me thou art my life, my love, my everything." "ah! yes," she sighed sadly. "to you i owe my life. you have all been so good to me, although i am a woman of the franks, that i can scarce believe that you are actually the azjars, the dreaded breath of the wind, reports of whose exploits have times without number caused me to shudder." "an azjar never forgets a favour nor forgives a false friend," i answered. "to our enemies we are brutal and relentless; yet those who eat our salt need never fear. already hast thou had experience of the treatment the stranger receiveth within our tents." "true," she answered, her hand closing tightly over mine. "i have had experience of thine own tender care of me, ahamadou, yet--" "yet thou hast already grown tired of our life?" i hazarded reproachfully. "ah! no," she said quickly, fixing her brilliant eyes upon mine. "thou hast asked if i could ever love thee. i tell thee that i do love thee, yet there is between us a barrier of blood, and such love can only bring unhappiness unto us both." "thou lovest me!" i cried, delighted, and taking her soft cheeks between my hard, sun-browned hands, our lips met for the first time in a long passionate caress. again, she put me from her, saying--"no, it can never be. we are of different races, different creeds. what is right in thine eyes is sin in mine; what is worship to thee is, to me, idolatry. no, ahamadou. it must not be. we must not love, for we can never marry." i was silent. her argument seemed utterly unassailable. never before had i faced the situation until now. she had, indeed, spoken the truth. "but we love each other!" i cried, dolefully. "yes," she sighed, shaking her head. "i confess that i love thee," and her fingers again gripped my hand. "but it is the very fact that we love one another that should cause us to part and forget." "why? until the war is ended thou must, of necessity, remain in our camp," i observed. "and after?" "then we could return to algiers, or to oran, and marry." she remained silent for a few moments, nervously toying with the single ring of emeralds upon her finger. "no," she answered at length. "this love between us is but a passing fancy. when the war is at an end, thou wilt have become convinced of the truth of my words." "never," i answered. "i love thee now; i shall love thee always." "alas!" she said, laying her hand softly upon my shoulder, and looking earnestly into my face. "now that we have both made confession we must endeavour to forget. we love each other, but the wide difference in our races renders happiness impossible. thou wilt find for wife some good woman of thine own people, and i--perhaps i shall find some man of mine own nationality to become my husband. from to-night, ahamadou, if thou lovest me, thou wilt make no further sign." i bit my lip to the blood. although she had uttered these words, i saw that she nevertheless loved me with a mad, passionate love, for soon down her pink cheeks tears were coursing. "thou art all to me--everything, gabrielle," i cried. "allah knoweth how deeply and honestly i adore thee, i--" the sound of a rifle-shot startled us. with bated breath we both strained our ears. the evening gloom had crept on unperceived, and it was almost dark. in rapid succession other shots sounded, followed by the fierce fiendish war-cry of the beni-mzabs. instantly the truth flashed upon me. we had been surprised by the french! by the route we had come we sped back to the encampment, where we found all confusion. a large body of spahis had made a sudden and determined attack, but it had been repulsed. my first thought was of gabrielle's safety. i found cover for her behind a huge boulder, and telling her to seat herself, and not attempt to watch the progress of the fight, returned, spear in hand, to bear my part against our enemies. the cessation of the fighting was only for a few minutes. we heard the sudden sound of a bugle, and from among the trees there dashed a formidable troop of red-burnoused horsemen, led by a young european officer, who sat his horse as if he were part of it. even in that moment of excitement i admired the way he rode. the charge was, however, an ill-fated one. not half those who dashed forward lived to retreat. the arabs of the mechefer, who had recently joined us, possessed guns, and the flashing of these, in combination with those of our enemies, illumined the darkness, while the still air was full of dense, stifling smoke. more desperate each moment the conflict grew. undismayed by loss or misfortune, we thrice returned their attack, each time with increasing force, until our bullets and keen spears commenced to work havoc among the infidel ranks. east and furious became the fight, but gradually the attack upon us grew weaker, and at last, determined upon reprisals, tamahu ordered a dash forward. with one accord we charged, and then before us the remnant of the ill-fated troop fell back and fled to save their lives. when i returned i found gabrielle kneeling beside the officer whose riding had been so conspicuous, tenderly bandaging an ugly spear-wound he had received in the left shoulder. she had improvised a torch, and beneath its fitful light was pursuing her task unconscious of my approach. upon the clammy brow of the unconscious man she placed her cool, soft hand; then, having felt his pulse, she seemed satisfied, and taking her flambeau went forward to one of my own tribesmen who had been injured in the breast. from the deep shadow wherein i stood i watched her, white-robed and fair like one of the good genii of whom the koran tells us, passing from one to another, alleviating their sufferings as best she could, uttering cheering words, or giving water to the dying. i did not approach her, for my heart seemed too full. it was best, i thought, to leave her alone to her merciful work. before the sun rose many of those whom she had so carefully tended and watched had drawn their last breath, but the young officer, whose name i afterwards learned was andre de freyville, lieutenant of spahis, had recovered consciousness sufficiently to thank his nurse, and learn from her lips the curious circumstances which had led her to accept the hospitality of our tents. he proved a pleasant fellow, and during his convalescence we all three had frequent chats together. although he was our prisoner-of-war, he soon became on excellent terms with tamahu, and his time passed happily enough. colonel bonnemain had, he told us, escaped when metlili fell, and had reached algiers unharmed. soon, in order to join forces with another large body of horsemen moving from the great hammada, or stony tableland, in tripoli, we advanced to the oasis of medagin, two days' march from el aghouat, then held in such force by the french that we dared not attack it. reaching medagin at noon, we encamped. when the stars shone both gabrielle and de freyville sang us some french _chansons_, the one accompanying the other upon the mandoline. before we scooped out our hollows in the sand to form our couches i borrowed a gun from one of the arabs, intending to go out at dawn to shoot some desert-partridges in which the oasis abounds. ere day broke i rose, and leaving the whole camp in slumber, strolled away to a rocky spot i had on the previous day noted as a likely place to find the birds. it was on the edge of the oasis, at some distance from the well where we had encamped. when i arrived there the sun had not risen, and the birds were still roosting. therefore, with my rifle loaded with a bullet (for i had no small shot), i sat down to wait. for perhaps half-an-hour i had remained when my quick ear detected the sounds of horses' hoofs. believing the newcomer to be a french vedette i drew back behind a large boulder, with the barrel of my rifle placed upon the top of the rock in readiness to pick him off as he passed. on came the horseman, until suddenly he emerged from among the mimosas and euphorbias. an ejaculation of dismay involuntarily left my lips. there was not one horse, but two. the riders were fugitives. they were our prisoner-of-war, lieutenant de freyville, and gabrielle bonnemain, the woman i loved. mounted upon horses they had secured, they spurred forward together at headlong speed. their way on to the desert lay down a narrow stony ravine, to traverse which they would be compelled to pass close by the spot where i was lying in ambush. on they came swiftly, without a word. inwardly i gloated over my revenge. this man was stealing from me the woman i loved dearer than life. and she--she had declared that she loved me! yet her words were foul lies. she should die! i fingered the trigger, and held my gun to my shoulder in readiness as the pair pressed forward, unconscious of their approaching doom. if ever the spirit of murder entered my soul, it was at that moment. when within a leopard's leap of the muzzle of my rifle she turned back towards her companion, uttered some gay words to him, threw back her head and laughed lightly, displaying her white teeth. i raised my rifle and took deliberate aim at her panting breast. my hands trembled. next second a flood of bitter recollections surged through my brain. i remembered those solemn words she had uttered: "we are of different races; different creeds. what is right in thine eyes is sin in mine; what is worship to thee is, to me, idolatry. it is the very fact that we love one another that should cause us to part and forget." yes, my enchantress had spoken the truth. my hands were nerveless. i dropped my gun, the weapon with which i had so nearly taken her young life, and through a mist of gathering tears watched her ride rapidly away beside her newly-discovered lover, and disappear over the dune towards el aghouat. when she had gone, my head sank upon my breast and my teeth were set, for full well i knew that never again could i love any woman as truly as i had loved her. my pole-star, the light of my life, had for ever been extinguished. chapter three. the secret of sa. through the very heart of the barren, naked saharan country, that boundless sea of red-brown arid sands, which, like the ocean itself, is subject to fitful moods of calm and storm, there runs a deep rocky ravine which has ever been a mystery to geographers. it commences near the shore of lake tsad, and extending for nearly eight hundred miles due north to lake melghir, is known as the igharghar, and is the dried-up bed of a river, which, with its tributaries, once rendered this bare wilderness one of the most fertile spots on earth, but which, for upwards of two thousand years, has ceased to flow. strangely enough, the country traversed by this great stony ravine is to-day the most arid and inhospitable in the world. the river, which, according to the legendary stories told in the market-places of the desert towns, must have been as mighty as the nile, dried-up suddenly from some cause which has always puzzled geographers. a portion of its course, about two hundred miles, half filled with sand, has for ages been used as the caravan route between the city of agades, the capital of the air country, and temasinin, at the foot of the tinghert plateau; but the remainder is of such a rocky character as to be impassable, and has on many occasions served us as ambush when fighting the ouled sliman marauders, our hereditary foes. on one of these expeditions we were encamped in the shadow of some great rocks, which had once been covered by the giant flood. around us on every hand was the sandy, waterless waste, known by the ominous name of _ur-immandess_, "he (allah) heareth not," that is, is deaf to the cry of the way-laid traveller. it is a dismal tract, one of the most hot and arid in the whole of northern africa. the poison-wind blows almost continually, and the general appearance of the sand dunes is altered almost hour by hour. we were six days' march off an interesting little walled town i had once visited, called azaka 'n ahkar, where stands the curious tomb of a chieftain who fell during the arab invasion over a thousand years ago, and to the west, within sight, was the low dark hill known to us as mount hikena, a spot feared universally throughout the desert as the abode of the jinns. already had we engaged the fierce host of the ouled sliman in deadly conflict at the well of agnar, but finding our opponents armed with rifles procured from european traders, we had drawn off in an endeavour to entice them into the wady igharghar, where our superior knowledge of the ground would give us distinct advantage. our losses three days before had been very serious, and our sheikh tamahu had despatched messengers in all haste to the oasis of noum-en-nas, six marches distant, to urge forward reinforcements. that night, when the moon had risen, i accompanied hamoud, one of my companions, as scout, to travel northward along the dried-up watercourse, to make a _reconnaissance_, and to ascertain if the enemy were in the vicinity. to ride up that valley, choked by its myriad boulders, was impossible, therefore we were compelled to journey on foot. had we ascended to the desert we should have imperilled our camp, for our enemies in search of us would undoubtedly detect our presence. we had pitched our tents at a secluded inaccessible spot, where the dried-up river had taken a sudden bend, in the heart of a country scarcely ever traversed. through the long brilliant night with my companion i pressed forward, sometimes clambering over rough rocks, split by the heat of noon and chills of night, and at others sinking knee-deep in soft sand-drifts. when dawn spread we now and then clambered up the steep sides of the valley and cautiously took observations. in that region, the surface of the desert being perfectly flat, any object can be seen at great distances, therefore we at all times were careful not to stand upright, but remained crouched upon our faces. so dry also is the atmosphere that any sudden movement, such as the flapping of a burnouse or the swish of a horse's tail, will cause sparks to be emitted. beneath the milk-white sky of noon, when the fiery sun shone like a disc of burnished copper, we threw ourselves down beneath the shadow of a huge boulder to eat and rest. hamoud, older than myself, was a typical nomad, bearded, bronzed, and a veritable giant in stature. his physical strength and power of endurance was greater than that of any other of our tribesmen, and he was always amiable and light-hearted. while he lit his keef-pipe and chatted, i gazed about me, noticing how, by the action of the eddying waters of this dried-up river, the very name of which is lost to us, the hard, grey rock above had been worn smooth and hollow. the mystery of the igharghar had always attracted me since my earliest boyhood. why this mighty stream, in some places nearly six miles wide, should have suddenly ceased to flow, fertilise, and give life to the great tract it traversed was a problem which the wise men of all ages had failed to solve. true, the one merciful heard not in that wild, unfrequented region. it was the country accursed and forgotten of allah. when, in the cooler hours, we resumed our journey, ever-watchful for the presence of the ouled sliman, on every side we noticed unmistakable traces of the enormous width and depth of the giant waterway. about noon on the second day i had ascended to the desert to scan the horizon, when i discovered some ruined masonry, half-buried beneath its winding-sheet of sand. on the keystone of an arch i found an inscription in roman characters, and here and there stood broken columns and portions of grey time-worn walls. it was the site of an effaced and forgotten city; a centre of culture and civilisation which had owed its very existence to this great river, and had declined and fallen when the stream had so mysteriously ceased to flow. the once fertile land had withered, and become a dreary, sunburnt, uninhabitable wilderness. ask any marabout from morocco to far-off tripoli, and he will declare that for some reason unknown, allah, before the days of his prophet, set the mark of his displeasure upon the country known to us as the ahaggar. it is not, therefore, surprising that the ouled sliman, our enemies, should be known throughout the desert as the children of eblis. as, spear in hand, i walked at hamoud's side along that vanished fluvial basin, i discussed the probable causes of the sudden failure of that mighty flow. he suggested that its source might by some means have become exhausted; but geographers having ages ago disposed of that point, i explained to him how every theory possible had already been put forward and dismissed. the mysterious forgotten river was still a geographical problem as great as the existence of open water at the poles. through two more days we journeyed forward, ever-watchful, yet discerning no sign of our enemies; but at length, coming to a steep bare cliff, once undoubtedly a roaring cataract, we found its granite bed had been worn into ridges two thousand years ago by the action of the torrent. at this point the plateau over which we had journeyed descended sheer and steep on to the plain, of which we commanded an extensive view for many miles. an hour before sundown the sky had suddenly darkened, indicative of an approaching sandstorm, therefore we resolved to remain there the night and retrace our steps next day. our fears were realised. shortly before midnight, as we sat together smoking, the unclouded starry sky assumed an extraordinary clearness. the atmosphere was perfectly still, when suddenly in the east a black cloud began to rise with frightful rapidity, and soon covered half the heavens. presently a strong gust of wind enveloped us with sand, and threw little pebbles as large as peas into our faces. soon, while we crouched beneath a rock, we were surrounded by a dense cloud of sand, and stood still in impenetrable gloom. the storm was of unusual severity. our eyes were filled with grit every time we ventured to open them. we did not dare to lie down for fear of being buried. the tempest at last passed, the night quickly grew clear again, and, extricating ourselves from the sand that had drifted high about us, we lay down exhausted to sleep. before dawn i rose, and, without disturbing the heavy slumber of my companion, strode forth along the brink of the dried-up cataract to examine more closely the hitherto unexplored spot. the sun-whitened boulders were all worn smooth where the gigantic rush of the waters had whirled past them ere they dashed below into that once fertile plain. and as i went along i presently discovered a place where i could descend the face of the cliff. without difficulty i at last reached its base, and stepping forward, placed my foot upon soft drifted sand that gave way beneath my tread. with startling suddenness a strange sound fell upon my ears, deafening me. i felt myself falling, and in clutching frantically at the objects around, struck my head a violent blow. then all consciousness became blotted out. how long i remained insensible i do not know. i have an idea that many hours must have elapsed, for when painfully i struggled back to a knowledge of things about me, i found myself enveloped in a darkness blacker than night, my ears being filled by a continuous unceasing roar like thunder. i was chilled to the bone, and on stretching forth my hand, found myself lying upon a mass of soft slime, that splashing over my face had half-suffocated me. with both hands outstretched, i tried to discover into what noisome place i had so suddenly been precipitated. intently i listened. the roaring was that of some mighty unseen torrent. creeping cautiously forward upon my hands and knees, fearing lest i should stumble into any further chasm, i soon came to water flowing swiftly past. then the truth dawned upon me that i was beside the bank of some unknown subterranean river. of the extent of that dark cavernous place i could obtain no idea. thrice i shouted with all my strength, but in that deafening roar my voice was echoless. with a supplication to allah to envelop me with the cloak of his protection, i cautiously pursued my way over the stones and slime in the direction the unseen stream was rushing. the incline was steep, and as the air seemed cool and fresh, i felt assured there must be some outlet to the blessed light of day. yet onward i crept slowly, chilled by the icy mud, until my limbs trembled, and i was compelled to pause and rub them to prevent them becoming benumbed. truly mine was an unenvious position. throughout my life it has been my endeavour to tread those crooked and laborious paths whereby knowledge of hidden mysteries may be gained, therefore i worked on like a mole in the dark, and by diligent industry gained ground considerably. during several hours i pushed my way forward, until at length my hands came into contact with a wall of rock which barred all further passage, although the water lapping it swirled past on its downward course. eagerly i felt about the rock, searching for some mode of egress, but could find none. the wall of the enormous cavern extended sheer and unbroken for five hundred paces, then turned back in the direction i had already traversed. thus was a terrible truth forced upon me. i was entombed! my injured head pained me frightfully, and i must have become weakened by loss of blood. the terrors of that foul, fearsome place, where the deafening roar was unceasing, and the blackness could be felt, overwhelmed me. i groped back to the edge of the roaring torrent exhausted, and sinking, slept. when i awoke i was amazed to find the cavern illumined by a faint greenish light, just sufficient to enable me to see that the rushing, foaming waters were of great width and volume, and that the cavern whence they came was low, but of vast extent. then, turning towards the light, i found that it shone up through the water beyond the wall of rock which formed that side of the cave. at first the strange light puzzled me, but i soon ascertained that the subterranean river emptied itself into the open air at that spot, and that the sun shining upon the water as it rushed out of its underground course, reflected the welcome light up to where i stood. the discovery held me breathless. i saw that in such enormous volume did those icy waters sweep down, that the opening in the rock whence they were let free was completely filled. there was, after all, no exit. at the edge of the boiling torrent i stood calmly contemplating the advisability of plunging in and allowing myself to be swept out into the air. the only thing which deterred me from so doing was the fear that outside the cataract fell down from some dizzy height into a foaming flood below, in which case i must be either battered to death upon the rocks or drowned beneath the descending tons of water. the thought of this terrible fate thrilled me with horror. of a sudden i heard above the roar a man's voice; and startled, turned round, and saw a long boat, shaped something like a canoe, containing two dark figures, being propelled swiftly towards me. agape in wonder i stood watching them. ere i could realise the truth, they had run their craft up high and dry where i stood, and were beside me, questioning me in some strange, unknown tongue. in that faint green light they looked weird, impish figures. small of stature, their skins were a lightish yellow; they wore curious necklets and armlets of chased bones, and their loincloths were scaly, like the skin of some fish or serpent. in their hands they both carried long barbed spears. they had been fishing, for their boat was nearly full. to their rapid questions i could only shake my head, when in an instant the roar of the waters increased, until speech became impossible. terrified they both, next second, leaped into their boat and dragged me in after them. their promptitude saved my life, for ere an instant had elapsed our boat became lifted by an enormous inrush, which flooded the whole cavern to a depth of many feet. our boat rose so near the roof that we were compelled to crouch down to prevent our heads being jammed, and soon i found myself being rowed rapidly along in triumph into the impenetrable darkness. i had escaped death by a hair's breadth, but what grim adventure was yet in store for me i dreaded to anticipate. my impish captors bent hard at their paddles, exchanging muttered words, until soon the roaring of the torrent sounded indistinct, and we found ourselves out upon a great subterranean lake of limitless extent. the eyes of my companions, accustomed to that appalling darkness, could discern objects where i could distinguish nothing. as we went forward the current became weaker, and now and then i felt a splashing as a large fish was lifted from the water impaled upon a spear. yet ever forward we kept on and on, for fully two hours, until suddenly i saw a faint glimmer of grey light upon the wide expanse of black water, and when we neared it i discerned that there was a huge crack in the roof of rock and it was open to the sky, but so great was the distance to the world above, that only a faint glimmer penetrated there. by its light i distinguished how clear and deep were the waters, and noticed that the fish my companions had caught were of a uniform grey colour, without eyes. in the impenetrable darkness of those subterranean depths the organs of vision, i afterwards ascertained, never developed. the eyes of the two men with me were also strange-looking, set closely together, dark and bead-like. but we paused not, holding straight upon our way, plunging again into the cavernous blackness, until presently there showed before us a golden shaft of sunlight striking full into the waters, and in a few moments we emerged into an open space green and fertile, surrounded on every side by high rocks, honeycombed with small caves, while the great unknown river itself disappeared beyond into a wide dark tunnel. scarcely had we disembarked than the place literally swarmed with the uncanny-looking denizens of this underground realm, who, issuing from their cave-dwellings, eyed me curiously with greatest caution. i had not removed my _litham_, and they undoubtedly were suspicious of a stranger who veiled his face. my captors, with much wild gesticulation, explained the circumstances in which they had discovered me, and presently, when i had been thoroughly inspected by all, and my appearance commented upon, my veil was surreptitiously snatched from my pallid face, and i was hurried into one of the small cell-like caverns, and there secured to the rock by a rudely constructed chain. soon food was brought me, and the inhabitants of the curious unknown country formed a ring near the river bank, and commenced to execute a kind of wild dance, accompanied by fiendish yells, working themselves into a frenzy, like the dancers of the ouled nails. for a long time i watched their weird pantomimic gyrations, when at length my eyes were startled at beholding, in the centre of the circle, a tall man of much paler complexion than my own, dressed in a few dilapidated rags. once or twice only i caught a glimpse of him, and then i recognised that his face was that of an european, and his dress the tattered remains of a french military uniform. his beard and moustache seemed ashen grey, and upon his haggard countenance, as he stood motionless and statuesque amid the dancers, was a weary look of blank despair. he also was a captive. the strange-looking, yellow-skinned people of this riparian region at length ceased dancing, and with one accord knelt around him in adoration, worshipping him as though he were an idol. the scene, as they gabbled words in an unknown tongue, was weird and impressive. my fellow-captive did not apparently notice me, therefore, fearing to rouse the ire of this hitherto undiscovered people by shouting, i possessed myself in patience. the curious form of pagan worship at last ended; the unfortunate european was released and allowed to seek his abode, a small hole in the rock close to mine, and the impish-looking men dispersed, leaving me to my own dismal thoughts. ere long the shadows lengthened as the sun sank behind the high rocks, and dusk crept on. about the open space which served as street, men and women of the curious tribe squatted, smoked, and chattered, while others, entering their boats armed with fishing-spears, paddled off down the subterranean stream in the direction i had come. night fell, and at last the cave-dwellers slept. slumber, however, came not to my wearied eyes, and for many hours i sat thinking over my strange position, my thoughts being suddenly disturbed by a noise as of some one moaning near me. it was the mysterious european. with slow steps and bent head he passed by, when, in a low clear voice, i accosted him in french. startled, he halted, peering towards me; and when i had uttered a few reassuring words, telling him that i was his fellow-captive, he came towards me, looking half-suspiciously into my face, and enquired my name. i told him who i was, then made a similar enquiry. "my name is flatters," he answered in arabic. "thou mayest, perhaps, have heard of me in thy wanderings through the desert?" "flatters!" i cried. "art thou colonel flatters, the lost explorer whom the french have sought these three whole years?" "the same," he answered, sighing deeply, his arms crossed over his breast. "for three years i have been held captive in this noisome land of sa." his tall dark figure stood out against the starlight, his head bowed in dejection. by this brave explorer's exploits the whole world had more than once been thrilled. by his intrepidity and ability to withstand the sudden extremes of heat and cold in our great desert, the french war department had been enabled to complete their map of the saharan plains. it was he who explored all the hitherto unknown region around el biodh; who discovered and published explanations of the wonderful ruins of tikbaben; who found the afeli source; who climbed the mountain of iraouen, and penetrated the country of the ennitra, into which even we of the azjar feared to venture. twice he traversed the stony tinghert tableland; but on the third occasion, while in the far south near lake tsad, he suddenly disappeared, and although the french authorities had offered a reward of ten thousand francs to any one who could solve the mystery of his death or capture, and had sent two formidable expeditions across the desert, with a view of obtaining some tidings of him, all efforts had been futile. yet he had been here, a prisoner in the hands of these uncanny dwellers beneath the earth's surface! "hast thou made no attempt to escape?" i enquired, as he seated himself wearily upon a ledge of rock near me. "yes," he answered despondently; "but my diaries and geological collections have been lost. all egress from this place is closed. yon rocks are too sheer and high to be scaled, and the black flood hath risen so that there is neither entrance nor exit." briefly, i told him the manner in which i found myself in that dark cavern with its noisy torrent, and when i had finished he explained the manner in which he had disappeared. "i set forth from algiers with five european companions, and after travelling for nine months along unfrequented paths in the inhospitable ahaggar, found myself at mount el aghil alone, all my fellow-travellers having died. unable to return by the route i had come on account of the fierce hostility of the kel-rhela, whose vengeance i had narrowly escaped, i was compelled to push on still southward through the air country, reaching at last, close to the dried-up course of the igharghar, a large and curious oasis, the earth of which was perfectly black and quite soft, contrasting strangely with the dull red sand of the surrounding desert. the vegetation was luxuriant, water-melons grew in rich profusion, and in exploring it i discovered, to my astonishment, a small but beautiful lake. about the oasis were large rocks, and in one of these i found an opening with curious signs rudely curved at the entrance. they appeared to be the hieroglyphics of some ancient race, and their strange character aroused my curiosity. unlike any hitherto discovered, they were of huge design, representing men, monstrosities, and animals of unknown species, yet only superficially outlined, apparently with the most inadequate tools. not only were they at the entrance, but on lighting a torch i found the interior of the cavern completely covered by these grotesque drawings; and it was while engaged in these interesting investigations that i suddenly stumbled into a narrow chasm that had evidently been hidden by dried branches to form a pitfall for the unwary. when i recovered consciousness i, like thyself, found myself captive in the hands of these fierce primitive barbarians of the nether world." "but who are they?" i enquired. "i have never heard mention of them before." "nor i," he answered. "to our world they are as absolutely unknown as this mighty subterranean flood. during my captivity i have managed to learn some words of their tongue. their gloomy, mysterious region is known to them as sa." "but the river itself amazes me," i observed. "true. our accidental discoveries have proved an important geographical fact hitherto undreamed-of, namely, that the reason the mighty igharghar no longer flows to irrigate the desert is because it has found a subterranean channel, and for ages has been still roaring on beneath its ancient bed towards the sea." "whence, in your opinion, cometh this mysterious river?" i enquired. "from lake tsad, undoubtedly. the fish in its waters, although grey and sightless, because of the perpetual darkness in which they live, are of the same species as those i found in the lake. the strangest part of my adventure is that these people, never having before seen a white man, believe me to be some supernatural visitant, and worship me as sa, their principal god." then, while he listened attentively, i told him of the cavern where the river apparently rushed out into the open air, and suggested that, as a desperate and last resource, we might endeavour to escape by plunging into the chilly stream and allowing ourselves to be carried forth into the unknown. on due consideration, however, we agreed that this project was not feasible, on account of the swollen state of the dark flood, and as an alternative resolved to steal one of the canoes and explore the upper reaches of the mysterious underground stream. this decision we followed by immediate action. the explorer, obtaining a roughly fashioned hammer of stone from his own little cave, quickly severed my fetters, and together we crept out across the small deserted grass-plain to where the boats were moored. in one of them we found paddles, torches and spears, and, stepping in, pushed off and shot silently out into the darkness. ere we had done so, however, we heard a loud ringing shout close to the bank. our flight had been discovered. we each seized a paddle and pulled away with all our might against the stream. quickly we entered the cavern opposite that through which i had been conveyed. the blackness was complete, but we strained every muscle in our efforts to propel forward our frail craft. soon behind us we heard the wild, fierce yells of our pursuers, and knowing that their eyes, accustomed to that appalling gloom, could discern objects where we of the outer world could detect nothing, we feared lest we might be overtaken. their angry voices echoed weirdly along the rocky roof, and we could hear the violent splashing of their paddles as they sped along in our wake. in this mad dash into the unknown realm of perpetual night we shot forward with utter disregard of what dangers lay before. we knew not, from one moment to another, whether we were heading up the great broad river, or whether rowing straight towards the rocky sides of the cavern. so light and flimsy was our craft that the least collision with a piece of jutting rock would have sent us down to depths unfathomable. at that moment we were enveloped by an hundred perils. to our surprise and profound satisfaction, we at length realised that the voices of our irate pursuers were growing fainter. they had evidently mistaken the direction we had taken, therefore we slowed up, and presently rested, spent and panting. i could hear the french officer's hard breathing, but the darkness was so intense that we could not see each other. "we have unconsciously entered a tributary of the main stream," he observed, gasping for breath. "listen, the sounds are receding. at least for the present we are safe. let us rest." nothing loth, i bent slowly across my paddle, now and then pulling a few strokes to prevent us drifting, and discussing our position in a low voice so that no echo should betray our presence. thus we remained fully half-an-hour, until both of us had refreshed ourselves, then together we paddled on swiftly, yet full of caution. no glimmer of light penetrated that dispiriting gloom, and we feared to ignite one of our torches. toiling forward, the perspiration rolling off us in great beads, we still continued pulling against the strong current for several hours, until suddenly we saw before us two large shafts of brilliant light striking down from above into the water. slowly we approached lest any of the denizens of sa should be lurking there; but ere long, as we came nearer, our eyes were dazzled by a sight so amazing that expressions of wonder involuntarily escaped our parched lips. in the light before us we saw clearly outlined a colossal face with hideous grin, carved from the black rock. it was truly gigantic, marvellously fashioned, with huge ears and an expression absolutely demoniacal, the two shafts of bright light issuing forth from the eyes giving it an expression of intense ferocity. we rested on our paddles beneath it, and looked up aghast. "this," cried colonel flatters, "must be the god sa, of whom i have heard so much during my sojourn with these people. he is their principal deity, and supposed to be the inexorable guardian of this remarkable kingdom." "see!" i exclaimed, regarding the extraordinary stone countenance in amazement. "the light from those eyes is sunlight! they are merely holes upon which the sun is shining full!" and such it proved to be. through the round apertures far up above, light and air were admitted from the desert. when at last our vision became accustomed to the welcome rays of light we made another bewildering discovery. the rock descended sheer into the black flood, but in little niches which had been rudely fashioned lay small heaps of gold ornaments and glittering gems, the sacrifices of this stone god's votaries. together we pulled our canoe close to the rock, taking care that the rapid swirl of the current did not hurl our craft against the jagged stones, and with my hand i clutched a heap of fine ornaments set with emeralds, pearls, and diamonds. in the sunlight we both examined them, finding they were evidently of very ancient manufacture, possibly the spoils of war against some long-forgotten but cultured nation. in workmanship they were similar to the ornaments found in the tombs of ancient egypt; they had evidently never been manufactured by the barbarous people into whose possession they had passed. before us was blackness impenetrable, and upon our ears there broke a distant roar, as of a cataract. the sound appalled us. if a cataract actually lay before, then escape was absolutely hopeless. but the fact that far above gleamed the sun gave us renewed courage, and after some discussion we became convinced that, this colossal face being regarded as the guardian of the unexplored country, an exit existed there. after some difficulty we ignited one of our torches, and with it stuck in the bows of the canoe, rode backwards and forwards, minutely examining the base of the rock. once we passed so near that my companion was able to secure a handful of gems for himself, and both of us secreted these stolen votive offerings about our garments. the two parallel shafts of light from the eyes of the graven monstrosity, striking deep into the river, revealed curious fish and water-snakes disporting themselves around the boat, while great black bats which had come in through the two openings, startled by our presence, circled about us ominously with wide-spread flapping wings. the water glittering beneath the torch's uncertain rays, flowed past so swiftly, that we were compelled to continue pulling in order to remain abreast of the idol. long and earnestly we both searched to find some means by which we could reach the two holes that formed the idol's eyes; yet they seemed so small that it was questionable whether, even if we successfully clambered up the sculptured face, we could squeeze our bodies through. a dozen times we allowed the canoe to drift past, while i endeavoured to discover some means by which to reach those glaring eyes. but the bright sunlight dazzled us, and beyond the tiny niches filled with jewels there was no other inequality to serve as foothold to gain the narrow ledge which formed the lips. again, if i made a false step i should be instantly swept away by the swirling current, and lost for ever in the dark whirling flood. at length however my companion, muscular and agile, succeeded in springing clear of the canoe and gripping one of the small niches, tossing the jewels into the water by his frantic efforts. for an instant he struggled, his legs dangling in mid-air; then presently his toes found foothold, and he commenced slowly to clamber up the chin of the gigantic visage towards a kind of long ledge. i watched his progress breathlessly, not daring to utter a word, but keeping the canoe in readiness to row after him if he fell. with difficulty he ascended, clinging on to the face of the rock until he reached the great grinning mouth and stood up facing me. "what do you find?" i shouted, my voice echoing weirdly. i had noticed that as he glanced along the spot where he stood his face became transfixed by horror. "follow me!" he replied hoarsely. "have a care, a single false step means death." at that instant the boat was passing the spot where he had gripped the rock's face, and without hesitation i followed his example and sprang, clutching the narrow slippery ledge with both hands. my feet found a resting-place, yet next second a thought which crossed my mind held me appalled. i had omitted to moor the boat. over my shoulder i throw a hasty glance. it had already drifted out of sight. i heard my white companion shouting, but taking no heed toiled on up the great face until a strong helping hand gripped mine, and i found myself standing beside him upon the narrow ledge forming the lips of the hideous countenance. next instant, glancing round, my eyes encountered a sight which hold me petrified. a long dark aperture, about the height of myself, formed the mouth, and set therein were broad sharp teeth of rusted sword-blades, which overlapping, prevented entrance to the cavernous throat. twenty blades were set in the jaw above and twenty below, forming an impassable barrier of razor-edged spikes. our only means of escape being cut off by the drifting of the canoe, one fact alone remained to give us courage. from where we stood we recognised the utter impossibility of passing through, the eyes of the colossus, yet, as together we looked at the formidable teeth, we saw a human skeleton lying beneath them. the skull was beyond the row of blades, the legs towards us, proving that some means existed by which those jaws could be opened. the unfortunate man had, apparently, been impaled by the descending blades while in the act of escaping. after brief consultation we began an active search to discover the means by which the mouth could be opened. what lay beyond in that dark cavernous throat we knew not, though we strained our eyes into the blackness, and shook the sharp steel spikes in a vain endeavour to loosen them. for a full hour we searched, discovering nothing to lead us to any solution of the problem. that freedom lay beyond we felt convinced, by reason of the light and air from above; but whatever were the means employed to raise the deadly jaw they were a secret. time after time we examined every nook and crevice minutely, until at last, when just about to give up our search as futile, i suddenly espied, projecting from the river's surface, a short bar of iron, with the appearance of a lever. to reach it was imperative, therefore at imminent risk i let myself carefully over the edge of the rock, slowly lowering my body until i could grip it. beneath my weight it slowly gave way, and next instant there was a loud gurgling as of water drawn in by a vacuum, followed immediately by a harsh metallic grating sound. "at last!" i heard the colonel cry in french. "it rises! be careful how you ascend." slowly, and with infinite care, i crept upward, but as i did so i heard my companion's echoing footsteps receding into the gloomy throat of sa, yet just as i had gained the ledge forming the lips i heard a piercing shriek, followed by a loud splash. i shouted, but there was no answer. my companion had stumbled into some chasm, and i was alone. the light of the hideous eyes had died out, and the spot was in almost total darkness. a dozen times i called his name, but there was no reassuring reply. then, cautiously creeping forward upon my hands and knees, fearing the worst, i soon came to the edge of an abyss. some stones i gathered and flung in. by the sound of the splash i knew the water must be of enormous depth. there, in that dark uncanny spot, had colonel flatters, the great explorer, whose intrepidity has been for years admired by the world, met his death. a long time i spent alternately shouting and listening. he might, i reflected, have been saved by falling stunned upon some rocky ledge. but i remembered hearing the splash. no, he had undoubtedly been precipitated into the water: the inky flood had closed over him. after diligent search i found a spot where the abyss ended, and again crept forward, still in darkness most intense. yet the air seemed fresh, and i felt convinced that some outlet must lay beyond. how long, however, i toiled on in that narrow tunnel i know not, save that its dampness chilled me; and when at last it widened in ascending, i found myself a few minutes afterwards amid brushwood and brambles in the outer world. that night i wandered across the large fertile tract, but could not at first recognise it. when dawn spread, however, i saw around me a ridge of dunes that were familiar landmarks, and recognised, to my amazement, that i was at the oasis of am ohannan, on the direct caravan route that runs across the barren afelele to touat. i had travelled nearly seventy miles in a subterranean region unknown to man, but in so doing had solved the problem that had so long puzzled geographers, the reason why the igharghar no longer flowed. besides, i had ascertained the fate of the hapless explorer, whose loss is lamented by both arabs and roumis to this day. within one moon of my escape i was enabled to rejoin my people, and when news of my adventure reached the bureau arabe, in algiers, i was summoned thither to give a detailed account of it before a small assembly of geographers and military officers. this i did, a report of it appearing in english in _the geographical journal_ a month later. of late, several attempts have been made by french expeditions to reach that uncanny realm of eternal darkness, but without success. its entrance beneath the dry cataract of the igharghar is now merely an overflowing well, around which a little herbage has grown, while its exit on the am ohannan i have unfortunately failed to re-discover. but since this strange adventure i have been known among my fellow tribesmen throughout the desert as "el waci," or the teacher, because i have been enabled to prove to the french the existence of an undreamed-of region, and to elucidate the secret of sa. chapter four. the three dwarfs of lebo. when my beard, now long, scraggy, and grey, was yet soft as silk upon my youthful chin, i was sent as spy into agadez, the mysterious city of the black sultan. at that time it was the richest, most zealously guarded, and most strongly fortified town in the whole sahara, and surrounded, as it constantly was, by marauding tribes and enemies of all sorts, a vigilant watch was kept day and night, and woe betide any stranger found within its colossal walls, for the most fiendish of tortures that the mind of man could devise was certain to be practised upon him, and his body eventually given to the hungry dogs at the city gate. in order, however, to ascertain its true strength and the number of its garrison, i, as one of the younger and more adventurous of our clansmen, was chosen by tamahu, our sheikh, to enter and bring back report to our encampment in the rocky fastness of the tignoutin. therefore i removed my big black veil, assumed the white haik and burnouse of the beni-mansour, a peaceful tribe further north, and contrived to be captured as slave by a party of raiding ennitra who were encamped by the well of tafidet, five miles from the capital of ahir. as i had anticipated, i was soon taken to the city of the black sultan, and there sold in the slave-market, first becoming the property of a jew merchant, then of hanaza, the grand vizier of the sultan. as personal slave of this high official i was lodged within the palace, or fada, that veritable city within a city, containing as it did nearly three thousand inhabitants, over one thousand of whom were inmates of his majesty's harem. in the whole of africa, no monarch, not even the moorish lord of the land of the maghrib, was housed so luxuriously as this half-negro conqueror of the asben. when first i entered the fada as slave, i was struck by the magnificence of the wonderful domain. as i crossed court after court, each more beautiful than the one before, and each devoted to a separate department of the royal household, the guards, the janissaries, the treasurer, the armourers, and the eunuchs, i was amazed at every turn by their magnificence and beauty. at last we came to the court of the grand vizier, a smaller but prettier place, with a cool, plashing fountain tiled in blue and white, and shaded by figs, myrtles, and trailing vines. beyond, i could see an arched gateway in the black wall, before which stood two giant negro guards in bright blue, their drawn swords flashing in the sun. of my conductor i enquired whither that gate led, and was told it was impassable to all save the sultan himself, for it was the gate of the courts of love, the entrance to the royal harem. through the many months during which i served my capricious master, that closed, iron-studded door, zealously guarded night and day by its mute janissaries with their curved scimitars, was a constant source of mystery to me. often i sat in the courtyard and dreamed of the thousand terrible dramas which that ponderous door hid from those outside that world of love, hatred, and all the fiercest passions of the human heart. the sultan was fickle and capricious. the favourite of to-day was the discarded of to-morrow. the bright-eyed houri who, loaded with jewels, could twist her master round her finger one day, was the next the merest harem slave, compelled to wash the feet of the woman who had succeeded her in her royal master's favour. truly the harem of the sultan of the ahir was a veritable hotbed of intrigue, where ofttimes the innocent victims of jealousy were cast alive to the wild beasts, or compelled to partake of the cup of death--coffee wherein chopped hair had been placed--a draught that was inevitably fatal. one brilliant night, when the silver moonbeams whitened the court wherein i lived, i sat in the deep shadow of the oleanders, sad and lonely. through six long dreary months had i been held slave by the grand vizier, yet it was allah's will that i should have no opportunity to return to my people. so i possessed myself in patience. through those months mine eyes and ears had been ever on the alert, and long ago i had completed my investigations. suddenly my reflections were interrupted, for i saw standing before me a veritable vision of beauty, a pale-faced girl in the gorgeous costume of the harem, covered with glittering jewels, and wearing the tiny fez, pearl-embroidered zouave, and filmy _serroual_ of the sultan's favourites. not more than eighteen, her unveiled countenance was white as any englishwoman's; her startled eyes were bright as the moonbeams above, and as she stood mute and trembling before me, her bare, panting bosom, half-covered by her long, dark tresses, rose and fell quickly. i raised my eyes, and saw that the negro guards were sleeping. she had escaped from the courts of love. "quick!" she gasped, terrified. "hide me, while there is yet time." at her bidding i rose instantly, for her wondrous beauty held me as beneath some witch's spell. and at the same time i led the way to my tiny den, a mere hole in the gigantic wall that separated the royal harem from the outer courts of the palace. "my name is zohra," she explained, when she had entered; "and thine?"-- she paused for an instant, looking me straight in the face. "of a verity," she added at length, "thine is ahamadou, the spy of the dreaded azjar, the veiled men." i started, for i had believed my secret safe. "what knowest thou of me?" i gasped eagerly. "that thou hast risked all in order to report to thy people upon the black sultan's strength," she answered, sinking upon my narrow divan, throwing back her handsome head and gazing into my eyes. "but our interests are mutual. i have these ten months been held captive, and desire to escape. by bribing one of the slaves with the sultan's ring i contrived to have poison placed in the kouss-kouss of the guards--" "you have killed them!" i cried, peering forth, and noticing the ghastly look upon their faces as they slept at their posts. "it was the only way," she answered, shrugging her shoulders. "to obtain me the sultan's men murdered my kinsmen, and put our village to the sword. mine is but a mild revenge." "of what tribe art thou?" i enquired eagerly, detecting in her soft sibillations an accent entirely unfamiliar. "i am of the kel-oui, and was born at lebo." "at lebo!" i cried eagerly. "then thou knowest of the three dwarfs of lebo?" "yea. and furthermore i have learnt their secret, a secret which shall be thine alone in return for safe conduct to my people." "but my clansmen are in deadly feud with thine," i observed reflectively. "does that affect thy decision?" she enquired in a tone of reproach. i reflected, and saw how utterly impossible it seemed that i myself could escape the vigilance of these ever-watchful guards of the many gates which lay between myself and freedom. i glanced at the frail girl lying upon my poor ragged divan, her girdle and throat blazing with jewels, and felt my heart sink within me. "thou thinkest that because i am a woman i have no courage," she observed, her keen eyes reading my secret thoughts. "but hist! listen!" i held my breath, and as i did so the footsteps of men fell upon the flags of the courtyard. we peered forth through the chink in the wooden shutter, which at night closed my window, and saw two men carrying a bier, followed by two gigantic negro eunuchs. upon the bier was a body covered by a cloth; and as it passed we both caught sight of gay-coloured silks and lace. below the black pall a slim white hand, sparkling with diamonds, moved convulsively, and as the _cortege_ passed, a low stifling cry reached us--the despairing cry of a woman. "all!" gasped my companion, dismayed. "it is zulaimena! yesterday she ruled the harem, but this morning it was whispered into our lord's ear that she had tried to poison him, and he condemned her and myself to be given alive to the alligators," and she shuddered at thought of the fate which awaited her if detected. conversing only in whispers, we waited till the palace was hushed in sleep. then, when she had attired herself in one of my old serving-dresses and bound her hair tightly, we crept cautiously out into the moonlit court. over the horse-shoe arch of the harem-gate the single light burned yellow and faint, while on either side the guards crouched, their dead fingers still grasping their ponderous scimitars. all was still, therefore quietly and swiftly we passed into the court of the treasury, and thence into that of the eunuchs. here we were instantly challenged by two guards with drawn swords, clansmen of those who lay dead at the harem-gate. "whence goest thou?" they both enquired with one voice, suddenly awakened from gazing mutely at the stars, their blades flashing in the moonbeams. "our master, the grand vizier, has had an apoplexy, and is dying!" i cried, uttering the first excuse that rose to my lips. "let not his life be upon thine heads, for we go forth to seek the court physician ibrahim." "speed on the wings of haste!" they cried. "may the one merciful have compassion upon him!" thus we passed onward, relating the same story at each gate, and being accorded the same free passage, until at last we came to an enormous steel-bound door which gave exit into the city; the gate which was closed and barred by its ponderous bolts at the _maghrib_ hour, and opened not until dawn save for the dark faced sultan himself. here i gave exactly the same account of our intentions to the captain of the guard. he chanced to be a friend of my master's, and was greatly concerned when i vividly described his critical condition. "let the slaves pass!" i heard him cry a moment later, and, with a loud creaking, the iron-studded door which had resisted centuries of siege and battle, slowly swung back upon its creaking hinges. at that instant, however, a prying guard raised his lantern and held it close to my companion's face. "by the prophet's beard, a woman!" he cried aloud, starting back, an instant later. "we are tricked!" "seize them!" commanded the captain, and in a moment three guards threw themselves upon us. swift as thought i drew my keen _jambiyah_, my trusty knife which i had ever carried in my sash throughout my captivity, and plunged it into the heart of the first man who laid hands upon me, while a second later the man who gripped zohra, received a cut full across his broad negro features which for ever spoilt his beauty. then, with a wild shout to my companion to follow, i dashed forward and ran for my life. lithe and agile as a gazelle in the desert she sped on beside me along the dark crooked silent streets. in a few minutes the tragedy of the harem-gate would be discovered, and every effort would be then made to recapture the eloping favourite of the brutal black sultan. we knew well that if captured both of us would be given alive to the alligators, a punishment too terrible to contemplate. but together we sped on, our pace quickened by the fiendish yells of our pursuers, until doubling in a maze of narrow crooked streets, we succeeded at last, with allah directing our footsteps, in evading the howling guards and gaining one of the four gates of the city, where the same story as we had told in the fada resulted in the barrier being opened for us, and a moment later we found ourselves in the wild, barren plain, at that hour lying white beneath the brilliant moon. we paused not, however, to admire picturesque effects, but strode boldly forward, eager to put as great a distance as possible between ourselves and the stronghold of the ahir, ere the dawn. fortunately my bright-eyed fellow-fugitive was well acquainted with the country around agadez, therefore we were enabled to journey by untravelled paths; but the three days we spent in that burning inhospitable wilderness, ere we reached the well where we obtained our first handful of dates and slaked our thirst, were among the most terrible of any i have experienced during my many wanderings over the sandy saharan waste. on that evening when the mysterious horizon was ablaze with the fiery sunset, and i had turned my face to the holy ca'aba, i was dismayed to discover that, instead of travelling towards the country of her people, the kel-oui, we had struck out in an entirely different direction, but when i mentioned it she merely replied-- "i promised, in return for thine assistance, to lead thee unto the three dwarfs of lebo, the secret of which none know save myself. ere three suns have set thine eyes shall witness that which will amaze thee." next day we trudged still forward into a stony, almost impenetrable country, utterly unknown to me, and two days later, having ascended a rocky ridge, my conductress suddenly halted almost breathless, her tiny feet sadly cut by the sharp stones notwithstanding the wrappings i had placed about them, and pointing before her, cried-- "behold! the three dwarfs!" eagerly i strained mine eyes in the direction indicated, and there discerned in the small oasis below, about an hour's march distant, three colossal pyramids of rock of similar shape to those beside the nile. "yon fertile spot was lebo until ten years ago, when the men of the black sultan came and destroyed it, and took its inhabitants as slaves," she explained. "see! from here thou canst distinguish the white walls of the ruins gleaming amongst the palms. we of the kel-oui had lived here since the days of the prophet, until our enemies of the ahir conquered us. but let us haste forward, and i will impart unto thee the secret i have promised." together we clambered down over the rocks and gained the sandy plain, at last reaching the ruined and desolate town where the cracked smoke-stained walls were half overgrown by tangled masses of greenery, welcome in that sunbaked wilderness, and presently came to the base of the first of the colossal monuments of a past and long-forgotten age. they were built of blocks of dark grey granite, sadly chipped and worn at the base, but higher up still well preserved, having regard to the generations that must have arisen and passed since the hands that built them crumbled to dust. "by pure accident," explained the bright-faced girl when together we halted to gaze upward, "i discovered the secret of these wonders of lebo. thou hast, by thy lion's courage, saved my life, therefore unto thee is due the greatest reward that i can offer thee. two years ago i fell captive in the hands of thy people, the azjar, over in the tinghert, and it was by thine own good favour i was released. that is why i recognised thee in the palace of agadez. now once again i owe my freedom unto thee; therefore, in order that the months thou hast spent in agadez shall not be wholly wasted, i will reveal unto thee the secret which i have always withheld from mine own people." then, taking my hand, she quickly walked along the base of the giant structure until she came to the corner facing the direction of the sunrise; then, counting her footsteps, she proceeded with care, stopping at last beneath the sloping wall, and examining the ground. at her feet was a small slab, hidden by the red sand of the desert, which she removed, drawing from beneath it a roll of untanned leopard-hide. this she unwrapped carefully, displaying to my gaze a worn and tattered parchment, once emblazoned in blue and gold, but now sadly faded and half illegible. i examined it eagerly, and found it written in puzzling hieroglyphics, such as i had never before seen. "our marabout ahman, who was well versed in the language of the ancients, deciphered this for me only a few hours before his death. it is the testimony of the great lebo, king of all the lands from the southern shore of lake tsad to the congo, and founder of the kel-oui nation, now, alas! so sadly fallen from their high estate. the parchment states plainly that lebo, having conquered and despoiled the ethiopians in the last year of his reign, gathered together all the treasure and brought it hither to this spot, which bore his name, in that day a gigantic walled city larger by far than agadez." i glanced around upon the few miserable ruins of mud-built houses, and saw beyond them large mounds which, in themselves, indicated that the foundations of an important centre of a forgotten civilisation lay buried beneath where we stood. "lebo had one son," continued zohra, "and he had revolted against his father; therefore the latter, feeling that his strength was failing, and having been told by the sorcerers that on his death his great kingdom would dwindle until his name became forgotten, resolved to build these three pyramids, that they should remain throughout all ages as monuments of his greatness." "and the treasure?" i asked. "is it stated what became of it?" "most precisely. it is recorded here," she answered, pointing to a half-defaced line in the mysterious screed. "the king feared lest his refractory son, who had endeavoured to usurp his power in the country many marches farther south, would obtain possession of the spoils of war, therefore he concealed them in one of yonder monuments." "in there!" i cried eagerly. "is the treasure actually still there?" "it cannot have been removed. the secret lies in the apex of the third and lastly constructed monument," she explained. "but the summit cannot be reached," i observed, glancing up at the high point. "it would require a ladder as long as that of jacob's dream." "there is a secret way," she answered quite calmly. "if thou art prepared for the risk, i am quite ready to accompany thee. let us at once explore." together we approached the base of the third pyramid, and zohra, after careful calculation and examination, led me to a spot where there was a hole in the stone just of sufficient size to admit a human foot. one might have passed it by unnoticed, for so cunningly was it devised that it looked like a natural defect in the block of granite. "behold!" she cried. "climb, and i will follow." the day was hot, and the sun had only just passed the noon, nevertheless i placed my foot in the burning stone, and scrambling forward found that she had made no mistake. at intervals there were similar footholds, winding, intricate, and in many instances filled with the nests of vultures, but always ascending. for fully half an hour we toiled upward to the apex, until we at length reached it, perspiring and panting, and minutely examined the single enormous block of stone that capped the summit. by its size i saw that no human hands could move it. if the treasure lay beneath, then it must remain for ever concealed. "that parchment giveth no instructions how the spoils of war may be reached. we must discover that for ourselves," she observed, clambering on, still in her ragged male attire with which i had furnished her before leaving the stronghold of the black sultan. i was clinging with one arm around the apex itself, and with the other grasping her soft white hand. she had looked down from the dizzy height and shuddered, therefore i feared lest she might be seized with a sudden giddiness. but quickly she released herself, and proceeded to scramble along on hands and knees, making a minute investigation of the wall. her sudden cry brought me quickly to her side, and my heart leapt wildly when i discerned before me, in the wall of the pyramid, immediately at the base of the gigantic block forming the apex, an aperture closed by a sheet of heavy iron, coloured exactly the same as the stone and quite indistinguishable from it. some minutes we spent in its examination, beating upon it with our fists. but the secret how to open it was an enigma as great as that of the closed cavern in our book of the "thousand nights and a night," until suddenly, by merest chance, we both placed our hands upon it, and it moved slightly beneath our touch. next moment, with a cry, we both pushed our hardest, and slowly, ever so slowly, it slid along, grating in the groove, which was doubtless filled by the dust of centuries, disclosing a small, dark, low chamber roofed by the apex-stone. stepping inside, our gaze eagerly wandered around the mysterious place, and we at once saw that we had indeed discovered the treasure-house of lebo the great, for around us were piled a wondrous store of gold and gems, personal ornaments and great golden goblets and salvers. the aggregate value of the treasure was enormous. "of a verity," i cried, "this is amazing!" "yea," she answered, turning her fine eyes upon me. "i give this secret entirely and unreservedly unto thee, as reward for thine aid. at the going down of the sun i shall part from thee, and leave this home of my race for ever. in six hours' march, by the secret gorges, i can reach our encampment, therefore trouble no further after me. close this treasure-house, return to thine own people, and let them profit by thy discovery." "but thou, zohra, boldest me in fascination," i cried passionately. "thou hast entranced me. i love thee!" "love can never enter mine heart," she answered with a calm smile, but sighing nevertheless. "i am already the wife of thine enemy, melaki, ruler of the kel-oui." "wife of melaki!" i exclaimed amazed. "and thou hast done this?" "yes," she answered in a lower voice. "i have given thee thy promised reward, so that thou and thy people may become rich, and some day make brotherhood with us, and unite against the black sultan." "if such is in my power it shall be done," i said, stooping and imprinting a passionate kiss upon her soft white hand. then soon afterwards we closed the mouth of the chamber and descended, finding the task no easy one. at the base of the "dwarf" we parted, and never since have mine eyes beheld her beautiful countenance. ere a moon had passed away, i had conducted a party of my clansmen unto the three dwarfs, and we had removed the treasure of the great founder of the kel-oui. of such quantity was it that seven camels were required to convey it to mourzouk, where it was sold to the jews in the market, and fetched a sum which greatly swelled our finances. true to my promise, when i assumed the chieftainship of the azjar, i effected a friendly alliance with the kel-oui, and endeavoured to seek out zohra. but with poignant grief i learnt that soon after her return to her people she had been seized by a mysterious illness which proved fatal. undoubtedly she was poisoned, for it was her evil-faced husband, melaki, who told me how he had found in her possession a mysterious screed relating to the treasure of lebo, and how, when questioned, she had admitted revealing its secret to the man who had rescued her from the harem of the black sultan. melaki never knew that the man with whom she fled from agadez, and who loved her more devotedly than any other man had ever done, was myself. chapter five. the coming of allah. one breathless evening, when the golden sun had deepened to crimson, and the shadows of the rocks were lengthening upon the white furnace of the sands, an alarm spread through our camp that strange horsemen were riding hard down the valley in our direction. marauders that we were, fierce reprisals were of no infrequent occurrence, therefore the women and children were quickly hurried out of the way, the camels tethered, and each man gripped his spear, prepared to resist whatever onslaught might be made. along the wady ereren, six days' march south of the town of ghat, where we were at that time encamped, we had taken the precaution to post three men in order to give us warning in case of any projected attack by the kel-alkoum, the powerful people with whom we were at feud on account of the murder of six of our clansmen up in the north of fezzan. our outposts, however, had sent us no word, therefore the only conclusion was that they had been surprised and killed ere they could reach us. hearing the news, i clambered up the bank of the ancient dried-up watercourse, in the bed of which we had pitched our tents, and, looking across the bend, we saw four dark specks approaching. the eye of the touareg is as keen as that of the eagle, for, living as we do upon plunder, our intelligence becomes so sharpened that we somehow instinctively scent the approach of the stranger long before we see or hear him. in a few moments the men crowded about me for my opinion. tamahu was dead, and this occurred in the first year of my chieftainship of the azjar. "let all four be captured and brought to me," i said, my eyes still fixed upon the approaching figures. "if they resist, kill them." in an instant twenty men, dark and forbidding in their black veils, sprang into their high-backed brass-mounted saddles, and with their gleaming spears held high, ready to strike, swept away down the valley to meet the new-comers. half an hour passed anxiously. the women in the rear chattered excitedly, and the children, held back by them, rent the air by their cries. from where i stood i was unable to witness the meeting of our men with the strangers, but suddenly the sound of firearms reached our ears. then i felt assured that the mysterious horsemen must either be the advance-guard of some valuable caravan from algeria, or of an army from the north. yet again and again the guns spoke forth, and so rapidly that i feared for the safety of our men; but at last there was silence deep and complete, and when i descended to the camp i found a tumultuous excitement prevailing. the four men, escorted by those who had gone to arrest them, were still carrying their guns, and as they slipped from their saddles before me, smiles broadened their unveiled faces. i looked at them puzzled. it seemed as though the firing had been but powder-play. "behold! o ahamadou, our sheikh! we are thy kinsmen, yet thou hast sent to attack us!" they exclaimed. "our kinsmen!" i cried, noticing that they wore the white burnouse of the north, with their _haicks_ held around their heads by ropes of twisted camel's hair. they wore no veils, and a touareg is unrecognisable, even to his relatives, if his black _litham_ be removed. "yea," cried one, the elder of the four. "lend us a veil, and we will show thee." a strip of black cotton cloth was thrust into his hand by one of the crowd, and he assumed it, twisting it deftly as only a touareg can. then he turned and faced the onlookers, who with one accord laughed immoderately, hailing him as taghma, son of ifafan. then the other three assumed the veil, and were, one by one, recognised and received back by their relatives. at the conclusion of this strange ceremony, taghma turned to me explaining how long ago before ramadan they had wandered afar with their flocks to the oasis of ezirer, and were there taken captives by the kel-alkoum. "but," he added, "we have seen with our eyes the greatest wonder on earth. allah himself hath come down from heaven!" "what?" i cried, starting to my feet. "thou liest!" the sensation caused by the man's calm announcement was intense. "if my tongue uttereth falsehood, o sheikh! then let it be cut out," he said. "i have seen allah, the one. he guideth the kel-alkoum our enemies, and we are of a verity forsaken." "ah!" wailed the old marabout ajrab. "did i not warn ye that because of your inattention to your devotions and your neglect to say the five prayers, the one merciful would leave you to perish and be eaten by the vultures like the lame camel in the wilderness?" "loose not thy tongue's strings," i commanded quickly. "let us hearken unto taghma, who hath seen the one from above." "of a verity, o ahamadou!" answered the escaped captive, "we are lost, for allah hath promised to render assistance unto the people he favoured in their expeditions. he declareth that we, of the touaregs, are the parasites of the earth, and that we shall be exterminated, not one being left. truly he can render our spears as broken reeds, and our blades as useless as rusted tin. each day at the _maghrib_ he standeth beneath a baldachin of purple and giveth the people an assurance of his favour, while all fall down and kiss the hem of his crimson garment so that they may be blessed. in salemma, el had, el guerat, and the villages around gatron, he hath healed the sick and performed wondrous miracles, while before our own eyes hath he caused a great tree to rise from the bare sand--a marvel which no earthly being could accomplish." "the latter thou hast thyself seen?" i enquired, much interested in this most remarkable statement. "we have, o sheikh!" he answered. "the face of allah is in the darkness as a shining light. verily the promise in the _sura_ is fulfilled. he hath come in person to lead the faithful unto conquest." alone i sat in my tent that night, smoking and pondering deeply over the strange report. in the camp the excitement had already risen to fever-heat. the aged ajrab was addressing the crowd of men and women, urging them to earnest supplication. allah had come, and would vent his wrath upon those who had discarded his book of everlasting will. from my divan i could hear the grey-bearded marabout's declaratory argument, and began to wonder whether the statement that allah had descended upon earth had any foundation in fact. i confess to being sceptical. from the wailing of the women, and the low growls of the men, i knew plainly that the belief in the report must have a seriously disheartening effect upon our fighting men, who, if convinced that allah assisted their enemies, would no doubt throw down their arms and flee. i therefore saw that the statement of taghma and his companions must be investigated, and after deep thought at length resolved to assume a disguise, and go myself to the camp of the kel-alkoum and see the miracles of which the men had spoken. to leave the azjar without its sheikh at such a time would, i knew, result disastrously; therefore, calling together the marabout and three of the most trusted headmen, i secretly explained to them my intention, and told them to account for my non-appearance during the next few days by spreading the report that i was seized by a slight fever and confined to my tent. then just before the waning of the moon, the dress that taghma had worn was brought to me, and, assuming it, i mounted a fleet horse and set forth alone down the winding wady. with the facts i had elicited from the four fugitives vivid within my mind, i journeyed forward, arriving ten days later in the little stone-built town of zemnou, a cluster of white houses surrounding its small mosque capped by three thin whitewashed minarets. wearing as i did the correct garb of a tribesman of the kel-alkoum, my presence was unnoticed, and i was therefore enabled to stroll about the market-places and make my observations while pretending to bargain for goods i had no intention of purchasing. at sunset each day, when the voice of the _mueddin_ sounded from the minaret, "allah is great!" i crossed to the mosque, washed my feet in the marble basin and entered, in the expectation of seeing the ruler of earth, but was each day disappointed. at that hour the surrounding terraces were peopled with white forms, which stood out against the summits of the palm-trees and the green of the baobab. their backs were turned to the purple splendours of the dying light, for their faces looked towards the already darkened east, lighted for us by that eternal light in which mecca is to be found. at length, after a week had elapsed, a great and excited crowd gathered in the market, and, when i enquired its reason, i learned that allah was coming. for an hour we waited in the full glare of the noon-day sun, until suddenly a shout of joy arose, and all fell upon their knees in adoration. then, lifting my eyes, i witnessed for the first time the one merciful in the flesh. truly taghma had not lied. he was of middle-age, a trifle pale, but his dark eyes had a kindly, sympathetic look, and his countenance was open and bright, a face such as is never seen on earth. in his robe of blood-red he stood with his head uncovered, and while the people about him kissed his feet and the hem of his robe, he stretched forth both hands over them, pronouncing upon them his blessing and an assurance of his favour. one fact, however, struck me as curious. abreha, the sheikh, stood aloof, with arms folded, watching the scene from beneath his shaggy brows. the glare in his keen eye told me that within his heart he concealed a fierce jealousy that his power had thus been eclipsed. the people, frantic with joy at the words of the giver of all good gifts, cried aloud their praises, repeating their _fatihat_, and making open declaration of their belief. the scene was the strangest and most exciting that ever i had witnessed, for, carried away by their enthusiasm, many fell fainting, and were trampled upon by the crowd eagerly struggling to press allah's garment to their lips, and obtain the remission of all past sins. suddenly the tall, erect, imposing figure in blood-red, truly kingly, raised both arms above his head, and, in a clear voice that echoed across the market above the clamours of the wild perspiring crowd, commanded silence. in an instant one could have heard a cricket chirp. every mouth was open in breathless eagerness, for allah was about to speak to them, his chosen, with his own lips. "give ear, o my well-beloved!" he cried, with an accent unfamiliar. "among ye have i come because ye have repeated your _suras_ faithfully, and have believed in my prophet. of a verity will i bless you with abundant blessings, and the sun of my favour shall shine upon you so that your enemies may wither before the dazzling light shed by your faces. you, the kel-alkoum, my beloved, shall sweep from the face of the earth the wicked who have oppressed you, and their entrails will be burned by the all-consuming fire of my vengeance. the touaregs, those who hide their faces in veils because of the hideousness of their iniquities, shalt thou put to the sword, and they shall be consigned to the place al-hawiyat, where their food shall be offal, and melting pitch shall slake their thirst. i am thy leader, henceforward fear not, for thou hast a stronger hand than all nations of the earth, and at my will all who oppose thee shall be routed and die. the kel-alkoum, my chosen, shall rule the world." he paused, and glanced round with an eye keen as a falcon's, while loud praises arose from every hoarse throat around. "we will rout the azjar from their mountain fastnesses!" they cried. "we are ready at any moment to do thy bidding, and sweep away the wicked. thou wilt give strength to our arms that none can resist. be praised, o king of earth and heaven! be praised, o one!" a smile of satisfaction played about the lips of the red-robed visitant from the unknown; but, without further word, he turned and stalked slowly to the mosque, the excited crowd closing in behind him, rending the air with their adulatory cries. throughout many days i remained in zemnou. once i saw the mysterious visitant pass in the darkness, and truly his luminous face shone like a lamp. one morning, however, while wandering among the palms outside the town, i met the ruler of earth walking alone, his head sunk upon his breast in pensive attitude. with his red cloak trailing heedlessly in the dust, he presented a decidedly dejected appearance. my footsteps startled him, and, raising his head quickly, he walked erect with his usual gait, apparently being desirous of concealing his melancholy. "praise!" i exclaimed, stopping, and bowing low before him. "if thou art, indeed, allah, thou alone knowest the innermost thoughts of thy servant." he paused, and stretched both his white tapering hands above my bowed head. "thy thoughts are of me," he answered. "thou desirest speech with me alone. speak." so calmly he looked upon me that i was convinced that such a kindly, sympathetic face, with its expression of a sweet sadness, could not be human. besides, had he not healed the sick, and caused trees to grow from out the desert sand? yet a spirit of scepticism possessed me, and, scarcely knowing what words i uttered, i said-- "if thou art the mighty and wise one thou canst tell me my name, and whence i have come." in an instant his brows knit, and his eyes flashed angrily. "thou art an unbeliever, and one of my accursed. thou, who darest to question my immutability and omnipotence, go dwell with eblis, ruler of darkness, where maleficient spirits shall haunt thee, and the tortures of the flesh shall rend thee for ever. begone!" and drawing his robe about his shoulders, he moved forward with truly imperial gait. at that moment i saw through the trees a pious fanatical crowd approaching. the news had evidently spread that the all-merciful was walking in the outskirts of the town, and they had come forth to touch his garments and receive his blessing. but when he saw them he halted, and, pointing towards me, cried-- "lo! yonder is one of the sons of eblis, a scoffer and unbeliever. let his body be given to the dogs." ere i could realise that the kind-faced man had condemned me to death, the mob, with loud yells of execration, rushed forward to seize me, and hurry me to an ignominious end. but in an instant i dashed in among the trees, and fled for life so quickly that i at length managed to out-distance my irate pursuers, and till evening i slept beneath the shadow of a rock. then, determined to speak again with the almighty one, i returned into the town, taking the precaution to purchase new garments to prevent recognition. the all-powerful had aroused further suspicion within me by his embarrassment when i had questioned him, and by his anxiety that i should be killed ere i could utter denunciation. without doubt, he possessed a mixture of firmness and independence which raised him above all prejudices, for he expressed his opinions to abreha, the sheikh, with the same frankness he employed towards the humblest tribesman; nevertheless, when we had spoken, i had detected a dramatic pose and an artificiality of manner which puzzled me. again, at the moment when i had addressed him, i had noticed, walking at some little distance behind him, a young girl of extreme beauty. she was unveiled, in the manner of the kel-alkoum, but somehow her face struck me as familiar, and i desired to again behold her. with that object i resumed my former quarters in the market-place, and kept watchful vigil. next morning she came. her face was paler than before, and it wore an anxious, terrified expression. i inquired who she was, and was told that to all she was a mystery. whence she came no man knew, but allah had declared her to be one of his chosen, hence none molested her, or made enquiry. i smiled, for i had recognised her. she was mezouda, daughter of one of our fighting men, who had been long ago captured by the kel-oui, and whose whereabouts had remained unknown. an hour later i contrived to have secret speech with her. at first she did not recognise me, but when i told her who i was, then she at once expressed her eagerness to return to her own people. "thou shalt return to our camp only on one condition, namely, that thou wilt induce that man known as allah to accompany thee," i answered. "he is thy friend." "but the kel-alkoum are his well-beloved," she said, using the same expression he so often used. "he must forsake them," i observed, explaining to her the baneful effect the report had exercised upon our men of the azjar. but she shook her head. "no, he will not leave the kel-alkoum. he is already their ruler," she said. "the power of abreha is now fast waning." "take me to him," i commanded. "but his house is a holy place. none dare enter on penalty of being cast out for ever." "i will risk it," i answered. "guide thither my footsteps." reluctantly she led me through a number of narrow crooked streets, until she paused before a small mud-built hut, and pointed to it. without ceremony i pushed open its closed door, and, entering, discerned the great king, half-dressed, standing before a scrap of broken mirror combing his beard. his face and neck were brown, so were his hands, but his breast and arms were white! the sympathetic countenance and tapering fingers were ingeniously stained to match the colour of the men of the desert, but the remainder of his body showed him to be a european. "how darest thou thus disturb my privacy, accursed son of eblis?" he cried in anger, evidently recognising me as the one whom he had condemned to death on the previous day. "i have entered in order to denounce thy profane chicanery," i answered boldly. "thou, the self-styled allah, art an infidel, an impostor, and a fraud!" he started at my fierce declaration, for the first time recollecting that parts of his chest, arms, and legs were exposed to my gaze. his face blanched beneath its artificial colouring, and his white lips trembled. "well!" he gasped, "and if thou hast discovered my secret--what then?" "the people of the kel-alkoum shall be made aware of how completely they have been tricked," i answered, taking up a small pot, which i smelt, and found contained a preparation of phosphorous. this he had evidently used to cause his face to be luminous in the darkness. "no!" he cried, "anything but that. i would rather kill myself outright than face the ferocity of these people." "then truthfully answer my questions," i said firmly, when i had explained to him who i was, and the sensation caused in our camp by the report of his assistance to our enemies. "whence comest thou?" "i come from the land of the roumis over the great black water," he answered, suddenly casting off all cant and concealment. "my name is mostyn day, and i am an english mining prospector. long ago, while in my own country, i read of the ease with which the fanatical arabs may be imposed upon by fearless and unscrupulous men who desire to obtain power over them; and, truth to tell, hearing that great mineral wealth existed in the country of the kel-alkoum, and knowing arabic well, i conceived a plan to come here, announce myself as allah, and obtain over the tribe such complete authority and control that i should either become their sheikh or obtain a concession to exploit all the mines in this rich region. my object was very nearly accomplished. to-morrow there is arranged a great rising of the people against abreha, with the object of declaring me their ruler, but,"--and he paused sighing--"your discovery has put an end to it all." "but what of the miracles you have worked in various villages?" "mere conjuring tricks and sleight-of-hand," he laughed. "once, long ago, i was connected with an english travelling show, therefore i am familiar with most stage tricks. but now i have confessed to you, you will not expose me. remember, unless you allow me to fly, these people will assuredly take my life." "i will preserve silence on one condition only," i replied. "that to-night, an hour after sundown, you leave with me, journey to my encampment, and there exhibit to my people your painted face and arms, explaining to them the reason of your imposture, and showing them how you contrived to render your countenance luminous at night." at first he demurred, but finding me inexorable he at length submitted, and asked to be allowed to take mezouda with him. "she is my wife," he explained. "i married her in algiers two years ago, and by her aid alone have i been enabled to approach so nearly the realisation of the plot i had conceived." "it was truly an ingenious one," i laughed. "yes, mezouda shall go with thee. remain in silence of thine intentions, and meet me among the palms outside the town an hour after sundown." at first i feared that the intrepid englishman, who had so nearly been the cause of a great jehad through the whole sahara, would endeavour to escape, but both he and his pretty and adventurous wife kept the appointment, and after some days we eventually arrived at our encampment. the excitement caused by our appearance was unbounded. taghma and his companions at once recognised the englishman in his blood-red robe as the allah of the kel-alkoum, and all fell on their knees, crying aloud in adoration. but their supplications were quickly cut short by the few loud words of authority i uttered, and when half an hour later the reckless adventurer exhibited his stained face and hands, and then entertained them by showing the simple means by which he accomplished his tricks of magic, the air was rent by roars of laughter. the veiled warriors of the azjar danced for joy, and held their sides when convinced how completely their enemies had been tricked, and how dejected they, no doubt, were when they knew that the allah, in whom they trusted, had forsaken them without a single word of farewell. for a month the ingenious impostor remained a guest within our tents; then he departed for the north, taking his wife mezouda with him. but since that day the kel-alkoum, believing themselves the forgotten of allah, have ever been a cowed and peaceful nation. chapter six. the evil of the thousand eyes. the camp fire was dying in the gloomy hour before the dawn. in the great desert the light comes early from the far-off holy city, golden as the prophet's glory, to light our footsteps in those trackless waterless wastes which are shunned by man and forgotten by allah. my tribesmen of the azjar, still wrapped in their black veils, were sleeping soundly prior to the long march of the coming day, and all was quiet save the howling of a desert fox, and the shuffling tread of the sentries as they traversed the camp from end to end, silent and weird in their long black burnouses and veils. alone, i was sitting gazing into the dying embers, deep in thought. i had been unable to sleep, for a strange premonition of danger oppressed me. we were in the country of the taitok, a tribe of pure arabs, fierce in battle, who when united with the kel-rhela, their neighbours, were among our most formidable opponents. the sheikhs of both tribes had made treaty with the french, and placed their country beneath the protection of the tricolour of the infidels, therefore in our expedition, against their town of azal, we knew that we must meet with considerable opposition. we had exercised every caution in our advance, travelling by various ancient dried-up watercourses known only to us, "the breath of the wind," approaching in secret the town we intended to loot and burn as a reprisal for an attack made upon us a month before. but the report of a spy, who had gone forward to azal, was exceedingly discouraging. the french had occupied the kasbah, the red-burnoused spahis were swaggering about the streets and market-places, while the tricolour floated over the city gate, and the fierce fighting men of the taitok were now fearless of any invader. it was this report which caused me considerable uneasiness, and i was calmly reflecting whether to turn off to the east into the barren ahaggar, or to push forward and measure our strength with our enemies, the infidels, when suddenly my eyes, sharpened by a lifetime of desert wandering, detected a dark crouching figure moving in the gloom at a little distance from me. in an instant i snatched up my rifle and covered it. unconscious of how near death was, the mysterious stranger still moved slowly across, lying upon his stomach and dragging himself along the sand in the direction of my tent. as i looked, a slight flash caught my eye. it was the gleam of the flickering flame upon burnished steel. the man held a knife, and at the door of my tent raised himself before entering, then disappeared within. quick as thought i jumped up, drew my keen double-edged _jambiyah_ from my girdle, and noiselessly sped towards my tent, drawing aside the flap, and dashing in to capture the intruder. the dark figure was bending over a portfolio wherein i keep certain writings belonging to the tribe, the compacts of friends and the threats of foes. "thou art my prisoner!" i cried fiercely, halting inside, casting aside my knife and raising my rifle. the figure turned quickly with a slight scream, and by the feeble light of my hanging-lamp i was amazed to detect the features of a woman, young, beautiful, with a face almost as white as those of the roumi women who sit at cafes in algiers. "mercy, o ahamadou!" she implored, next second casting herself upon her knees before me. "true, i have fallen prisoner into thine hands, but the book of everlasting will declares that thou shalt neither hold in slavery nor kill those who art thy friends. i crave thy mercy, for indeed i am thy friend." "yet thou seekest my life with that knife in thine hand!" i cried in anger. "whence comest thou?" i demanded, for her arabic was a dialect entirely strange to me. "from a country afar--a region which no man knoweth," she answered. "the country of the azjar is the whole of the great desert," i answered, with pride. "every rock and every wady is known unto them." "not every wady," she replied, smiling mysteriously. "they know not the land of akkar, nor the city of the golden tombs." "the land of akkar!" i gasped, for akkar was a region which only existed in the legendary lore of the bedouins, and was supposed to be a fabulous country, wherein lived a mysterious race of white people, and where was concealed the enormous treasure captured during the mussulman conquest. "knowest thou actually the position of the wondrous land of akkar?" "it is my home," she answered in soft sibillation, as stretching forth my hand i motioned her to rise. i saw that her beauty and grace were perfect. she wore no veil, but her dark robe was dusty and stained by long travel, while her striking beauty was enhanced by a string of cut emeralds of great size and lustre across her brow, in place of the sequins with which our women decorate themselves. she wore no other jewels, save a single diamond upon the index-finger of the right hand, a stone of wondrous size and brilliancy. it seemed to gleam like some monster eye as she sank upon the divan near, a slight sigh of fatigue escaping her. "and thy name?" i enquired. "nara, daughter of kiagor," she answered. "and thou art the great ahamadou, whom all men fear from lake tsad, even unto the confines of algeria, the leader of the dreaded breath of the wind. in our secret land reports of thy prowess and ferocity in the fight, of thy leniency towards the women and children of thine enemies, have already reached us, therefore i travelled alone to seek thee." and she looked up into my face, her full red lips parted in a smile. "why?" i enquired, puzzled. "because i crave the protection of thine host of black-veiled warriors," she answered. "our land of akkar is threatened by an invasion of the infidel english, who have sent two spies northward from the niger. may allah burn their vitals! they succeeded in penetrating into our mountain fastness, and were captured by our scouts. one was killed, but the other escaped. he has, undoubtedly, gone back to his own people; and they will advance upon us, for they are a nation the most powerful and most fearless in all the world." "of a verity thy lips utter truth," i observed, "for we once fought in the dervish ranks against the english on the nile bank, and were cut down like sun-dried grass before the scythe. but who hath sent thee as messenger to me?" "i come on my own behalf," she responded. "i am ruler of the akkar." it was strange, sitting there in conversation with the ruler of a mysterious region, the existence of which every arab in the soudan and the sahara firmly believed, yet no man had ever set foot in the legendary country, the fabulous wealth and strange sights of which were related by every story-teller from khartoum even unto timbuktu. and yet nara, the queen of akkar, was a guest within my camp, and had fallen upon her knees before me in supplication. ambition was fired within me to visit her wondrous land of the silent dead, and i announced my readiness to effect a treaty with her, first accompanying her alone to see the wonders of her mystic realm. as i spoke, however, a curious change appeared to come over her. her face flushed slightly, her eyes gleamed with a fiery glance, and there was a hardness about her mouth, which, for one brief moment, caused me suspicion. "thou art welcome, o ahamadou!" she answered, smiling bewitchingly, next instant. "we will start even now, if thou wilt, for no time must be lost ere thine armed men unite with the guards of my kingdom to resist the accursed english, that white-faced tribe whom eblis hath marked as his own. let us speed on the wings of haste, and within a week thou mayest be back here within thine own camp." and she rose in readiness to go forth. "my _meheri_ is tethered behind yon rock," she continued, pointing out beyond the camp where a great dark rock loomed forth against the fast-clearing sky. "join me there, and i will guide thy footsteps unto my city of the golden tombs." whilst she went forth secretly i called malela, son of tamahu, and imparted to him the circumstances, telling him of my intention to go secretly to akkar, and giving him instructions how to preserve from the tribe the fact that i was absent. malela was one of the fiercest of desert-pirates, as valiant a man as ever drew a _jambiyah_ against an enemy; but when i mentioned my intended visit to the silent legendary land, the wealth and terrors of which he had heard hundreds of times from the lips of the story-tellers and marabouts, his face paled beneath its bronze. "may the one of praise envelope thee with the cloak of his protection," he ejaculated with heartfelt fervency. "have we not heard of the awful tortures of those in the mute land--the mysterious region which the moors have declared to be the veritable dwelling-place of eblis, the region inhabited by those who have served the devil and refused both the blessings of allah and the intercessions of his prophet?" "are not the azjar without fear, and is not ahamadou their leader?" i asked proudly, reflecting upon nara's marvellous beauty, and feeling an intense curiosity to visit the country wherein no man had hitherto set foot. again, had not the queen of akkar singled out the veiled men of the azjar as her allies against the eaters of unclean meat, the infidels whose bodies allah will burn with his all-consuming fire. again malela uttered a prayer to the one, as he stood facing the holy ca'aba, and i, too, murmured a _sura_ as i thrust some cartridges into my pouch, drew tighter my belt with its amulets sewn within, and buckled on my sword with the wondrous jewel in the hilt--the mark of chieftainship--for i was to be guest of the queen of an unknown land. then, with a whispered farewell to tamahu's son, i stole forth, treading softly among my sleeping tribesmen, and carefully avoiding the sentries until i came to my own swift camel, i mounted it, and a few minutes later joined my handsome guide. she had already mounted, and had twisted a white haick about her face until only her eyes and the row of emeralds across her brow remained visible. it is needless to recount the long breathless days we spent together in journeying westward, resting by day and travelling ever in the track of the blood-red afterglow, until we came upon a range of giant snow-crested mountains, as great as the monster atlas that loom as a barrier between ourselves and the so-called civilisation of the franks. "yonder," she said, pointing to them, when first their grandeur burst upon our view in the pale rose of dawn. "yonder is our land which none can enter, save those who know the secret way. there are but two entrances--one here and the other far south, the way through which the english have unfortunately discovered." "then on all sides but one thy kingdom is impregnable," i observed, gazing with amazement at the serrated barrier, which seemed to rise until it reached the misty cloud-land. "on all but one," she answered. "those who know not the secret must meet with death, because of the dangers by which akkar is surrounded as safeguards against her enemies." throughout two days we travelled, slowly approaching the snowy range, and one night we halted beside a narrow lake, beyond which was practically an impassable barrier of rugged cliffs and towering mountains. the night was moonless, and as i laid down to sleep, only the rippling of the water lapping the pebbles broke the appalling stillness. at last, however, i dropped off into a heavy slumber, and was only awakened by a strange roar in my ears like the thunder of a cataract. i put forth my hand and tried to open my eyes, but both efforts were alike useless. to my amazement i found my hands secured behind me, and my eyes blindfolded. then, in an instant, it occurred to me that i had been entrapped. i struggled and fought to free myself, for the air was hot and stifling, and i felt myself being asphyxiated with a deadening roar in my ears, and a close indescribable odour in my nostrils. in my attempt to tear the irritating bandage from my eyes, my head came suddenly into contact with something soft. i placed my cheek against it, and found to my amazement that i was lying on some kind of silken divan, my head supported by an embroidered cushion of the kind usual in our harems. but the odour about me was not the intoxicating fragrance of burning pastilles, but a damp mouldy smell, as of a chamber long closed. how long my mental torture and sense of utter helplessness continued i know not. all i recollect is that, of a sudden, the air seemed fresher and cooler, the thunder of the waters died away instantly, and the smell of the charnel-house gave place to a delicate perfume of fresh flowers. there was a genial warmth upon my cheeks, and i awakened to the fact that the sun was shining upon me, when i felt a hand unloosen the bandage tied behind my head, and heard the voice of nara say-- "lo, the danger is past. thou art in akkar," and she drew away the piece of black folded silk that had held me without vision. in abject amazement i looked around stupefied. we were together in a kind of boat shaped like an inverted funnel, which opened only at the top and could be closed at will by a complicated arrangement of levers and wire ropes, a subaquatic vessel fitted with comfortable lounges, having a lighted lamp hanging in the centre. everything--seats, tables, and all the fittings--swung in rings, therefore, whichever way the boat rolled, even though it might turn complete somersaults, those riding in it could remain seated without inconvenience. on looking back i saw that the narrow stream we were navigating was fed by a mighty torrent that rushed from the mountain-side, a roaring, boiling flood which sent up a great column of spray, reflecting in the sunlight all the colours of the spectrum; and i also observed that we had entered the land of akkar by means of that strangely-shaped boat of bolted iron plates as strong as the war-ships of the infidels, and were now in a deep and fertile valley, having descended from the lake by an unknown subterranean watercourse through the very heart of the giant mountain. i gazed about me in blank amazement, for even as my conductress spoke, she deftly stretched forth a pole and arrested the progress of the boat at a flight of well-worn steps, while above, my wondering eyes fell upon the great white facade of a palace with an enormous gilded dome. "yonder is my dwelling-place," she explained with a wave of the hand, and as we stepped upon the bank a crowd of fierce-looking armed warriors appeared, raising their spears high in salutation. "this is ahamadou," she explained, "the dreaded sheikh of the azjar, who hath come to make brotherhood with us. he is guest of nara, thy ruler." "welcome, o ahamadou!" they cried, with one voice. "of a verity thou art the lion of the desert, for the leader of the breath of the wind knoweth not fear." "i am thy friend, o friends," i answered, as by nara's side i strode onward to the wondrous palace, so magnificent, yet of such delicate architecture that one marvelled how human hands could have fashioned it. the country i had entered was red with flowers and green with many leaves; a fruitful, peaceful region, the spires and domes of the great city of the golden tombs rising in the distance far down the valley, white and clear-cut as cameos against the liquid gold of the sunset. together we ascended the long flight of marble steps which led to the great colonnade, and gave entrance to a palace of similar design to those of the ancient palaces of egypt in those forgotten days long before the prophet. as our feet touched the last step, the air was rent by a fanfare of a hundred trumpets, causing the valley to re-echo. then a file of armed men, headed by the blood-red banner of akkar, lined our route, bowing low as we passed on into a hall, high vaulted and of enormous proportions, in the centre of which stood a wonderful throne of gold, covered with hundreds upon hundreds of eyes of every variety and size, wrought in gems to imitate those of human beings and of animals. as i gazed upon it i suddenly recollected what i had heard from the story-tellers about this wondrous seat of akkar's queen. it was the ancient throne whereon, for nearly two thousand years, the rulers of the city of the golden tombs had sat, and was known in legendary lore as the throne of the thousand eyes, each eye recording a battle, and being formed of the greatest gem taken in the loot on that occasion. as i approached i saw that some were of diamonds, others of rubies, of emeralds, of jade, of jacinth, of jasper, of pearl, and of sapphires, each perfectly formed, but some kindly-looking, while on others the expression was that of terror, of hatred, or of agony, truly the strangest and weirdest seat of royalty in all the world. around me the excitement rose to fever-heat as the people assembled, and nara seated herself upon the throne after casting aside the travel-stained haick she had worn on the journey. i saw everywhere evidences of unbounded riches. the silken robes of the courtiers were sewn with jewels, and as their queen sank among her soft cushions, and her women put upon her necklaces and anklets of enormous worth, the great chamber became filled with the clank of arms and the murmur of many voices, while i was closely scrutinised and my appearance commented upon. suddenly, the great queen rose, lifting her arms, and with an expression of uncontrollable anger upon her white face, said-- "lo, my people, hear this my word! i have travelled afar into the country of our enemies, and have brought hither the person of ahamadou, their chief." "i am not thine enemy, o queen!" i hastened to assure her. "thine ally, if thou wilt." "i have brought hither this man," she cried, "i have brought him hither in fulfilment of my oath in order that punishment shall be meted out to him." "punishment!" i gasped, wondering if i had taken leave of my senses. "remember, that this man is ahamadou, chief of the pirates, who have captured so many of our caravans, and who slew my son kourra, heir to this my throne, six moons ago!" she cried, in a paroxysm of rage, lifting her thin bare arms, her face growing hideous in her fearful ebullition of anger. i saw that i had fallen helplessly into the hands of my enemies, and bit my lip without uttering a single word. to escape from that unexplored rock-bound kingdom was hopeless. i could only show them that fear dwelleth not in the heart of an azjar, even though thousands lifted their hands against him. "i have," she cried, "sought out this man, alone and unaided, according to the oath i took before the sacred scarabaeus upon this the throne of the thousand eyes, and conducted him hither in order that ye may pass judgment upon him. speak, say what torture shall he undergo?" in an instant the air was rent by loud cries of-- "let the scarabaeus devour him! let him witness the torture of the spies, and afterwards let the same be applied to him! let him die the most terrible of all deaths; let the sacred beetle crush him beneath its fangs!" a dozen men, aged, white-robed, with beards so long that some almost swept the ground, whom i judged were priests, held brief consultation: then, amid the uproar, they seized me, wrenched from me my arms, and led me away ere i could raise my voice to charge their dreaded ruler with treachery. followed by the jeering, excited multitude, they conducted me along the wide level road to the mysterious city, upon the high gates of which were mounted strong guards, with breast-plates whereon the image of the sacred beetle was worked in crimson, and through great streets and squares until we came to a huge mosquelike structure, the three golden domes of which i had noticed glittering afar as the dying rays of the sunset slanted upon them. the dimly-lit interior was magnificent, but as they dragged me forward, i saw placed beneath the central dome a colossal figure of the sacred scarabaeus a hundred feet in height, and two hundred feet square, plated over with gold. from the two hideous eyes shone lines of white light like the rays of the searchlights of the infidels, while, by some mechanical contrivance, the wide mouth now and then opened and closed, as though the monstrous emblem of the eternal were eager to devour those who worshipped before it. the bearded priests who held me threw themselves upon their knees before it in adoration, uttering a low kind of chant, while almost at the same instant a quivering terrified man, haggard, thin, and bearing signs of long imprisonment, was dragged forth from a kind of cell in the colossal walls, and made to bend upon his knees upon a grey circular stone immediately before the monster throat of death. "no! no!" he shrieked in horror. "kill me by the sword! let my body be given to the alligators--anything--but spare me the torture of the beetle! i am innocent! it is but nara's love of bloodshed and torture of the flesh that hath caused her to condemn me. may the curse of the beetle be ever upon her!" ere he could utter another word six black slaves, veritable giants in stature, seized the unfortunate wretch, and as the mouth of the monster again opened, they flung him headlong into it. next second the cruel terrible mouth closed, and the shrieks and crushing of bones told how terrible was the torture of the human victim within its insatiable maw. the sight caused me to shudder. to this frightful ignominious death had this fair-faced, soft-spoken woman condemned me. again the enormous golden jaws opened, and again, as they closed, the victim's piercing shrieks told that his agony was renewed, and that death did not come quickly within that weird colossal figure of the insect, once held sacred from the shores of the red sea unto the great black ocean. in this, the last place in all the world where its worship still remained, the people were the most cruel and relentless of any in our great dark continent, africa. a dozen times the mouth opened and closed, and each occasion the cries of the agonised man were frightful to hear, until at last they died away, and as they did so the light also died from the monster's eyes. soon, however, another thin, cringing man, starved almost to a skeleton, was brought forth, and with similar scant ceremony was cast into the colossal jaws, whereupon the light in the giant eyes grew brilliant again, and the shrieks for release, as the mouth reopened, were only answered by the loud jeers of the assembled multitude, by this time increased until every part of the magnificent building was crowded to suffocation, while at that instant nara, still upon the throne of the thousand eyes, was dragged in by a crowd of nearly a thousand persons. twelve black slaves slowly fanned her as she sat, her chin resting upon her hand, watching in silence. one after another were victims brought forth and hurled to the horrible monster, to be slowly cut to pieces by the myriad gleaming knives and fine-edged saws set within those terrible jaws, until at last some one in the crowd cried out with a loud voice-- "let the pirate ahamadou die! his men killed our prince, the valiant kourra, therefore no mercy shall be shown the veiled man. let him be given to the sacred beetle!" in an instant the cry was taken up on every hand. "let him die!" they shouted wildly. "let us witness his body being cut to ribbons!" the priests hesitated, while in that perilous moment i repeated a _sura_, and heeded not these infidel worshippers of insects and idolators of golden effigies. but at a sign from nara, the relentless figure in white seated upon her wondrous throne of the thousand eyes, they seized me, forced me to kneel upon the circular stone, and then, as those hideous jaws opened with a swift movement, they lifted me and cast me in. for an instant my head reeled, and all breath left me, for i knew that a fearful agonising death was nigh; but as allah willed it, i alighted upon my feet, and finding in the darkness that the floor sloped down, i started running with all my might, gashing myself upon the knives, set upright like teeth, but nevertheless speedily forward, heedless of the pain. slowly and surely the walls of that strange torture-chamber closed about me with a creaking and groaning horrible to hear, until i found myself squeezed tightly with irresistible force on every side. i held my breath, for upon my chest was a great weight, and i knew that next instant my frame must be crushed to pulp. slowly, however, almost imperceptibly, the frightful pressure upon my body began to relax, and ere i realised the welcome truth, i found myself able to breathe again. by dashing forward i had advanced far down the dreaded throat of death to a point where the passage began to widen, and by the freshness of the air i now felt that some outlet lay beyond. therefore, without hesitation, i sped again onward, stumbling over some soft objects on the ground, which i instinctively knew to be the remains of my fellow victims, until a faint grey glimmer of light showed in the distance. the floor still sloped steeply, and by feeling about me, i discovered that the throat was now simply a natural burrow in the rock. without loss of a second i soon gained the outlet, and peered forth, aghast to discover that the tunnel ended abruptly in the face of a bare precipice; and that in the valley some two hundred feet below lay a great heap of sun-bleached bones, the remains of those who had passed through the throat of death. undoubtedly, when the channel became choked with the rotting remains of the victims they were cast forth to the vultures and the wolves. eager to escape from the noisome place, i climbed with difficulty down the face of the mountain, and on gaining the valley, quickly recognised, with satisfaction, that i was actually beyond the confines of the accursed land of akkar. truly i had encountered death as a very near neighbour. the high range with their snowy crests were the same as my treacherous guide had pointed out to me, and next day i skirted the lake which, emptying itself by the subterranean river, gave entrance to the mystic land of nara. through many weary weeks i travelled hither and thither, ill and half-starved, until at length i fell in with a camel caravan, and travelling with them to ideles, subsequently rejoined my own tribesmen, who had, by that time, begun to despair of my safety. within six moons i made a report of the mysterious land, and all that i had witnessed therein, to the bureau arabe, in algiers, and ere six more moons had waned, the franks sent an armed expedition to enter and explore the country. of this expedition i was appointed guide, all past offences of my tribesmen being forgiven; but the soldiers of nara offering a determined resistance, their country was at once subdued and occupied by the white conquerors. the sacred scarabaeus was destroyed by dynamite, and the throat of death widened until it now forms one of the entrances to the land so long unknown. the dreaded nara was sent as prisoner down to senegal, where she still lives in exile; but her wondrous throne still remains in her great white palace--now a barrack of the spahis and chasseurs--and the arab story-tellers in every desert town, from the atlas to lake tsad, continue to relate weird and wonderful tales of the city of the golden tombs and the evil of the thousand eyes. chapter seven. the gate of hell. lounging on a bench under the tall date-palms in the market-place of hamman-el-enf, i smoked a rank _cherbli_ in dreamy laziness. the day was dying; the blazing african sun sank, flooding the broad bay of tunis with its blood-red afterglow, and the giant palms cast their long, straight shadows over the hot, sun-blanched stones. there are no half lights in northern africa; all is either glaring brilliance or sombre shadow. little twilight is there in that land of mosques and marabouts; night follows the death of day with astonishing rapidity. even while i sat, darkness crept on; the squatting, chattering crowd of white-burnoused moors and arabs and red-fezzed negroes had dispersed, and the sunbaked little village seemed almost deserted. suddenly the white figure of an arab woman glided slowly and ghost-like from the deep shadow of the ilexes. like all others of her sex, she was enshrouded in a _haick_, and the lower portion of her face was hidden by her thick white veil, only a magnificent pair of black sparkling eyes, and a forehead upon which rows of gold sequins tinkled, being visible. halting for a few seconds, she stared at me as if in surprise, then, in soft musical arabic, gave me peace, exclaiming-- "sadness dwelleth in the heart of the touareg. of a verity thou art not more sad than i," and, sighing, she drew her _adjar_ closer across her face, and was about to pass on. "sad, art thou?" i answered, surprised that she should address me, a veiled man of the desert. in the dim light i could distinguish that her hose were of the finest white silk, that her tiny shoes were paris made and of patent leather, and that the hand which held the _haick_ around her was loaded with valuable rings. "loosen thy tongue's strings, o one of beauty," i said, gallantly. "tell me why speakest thou unto me; why unhappiness hath fallen upon thee." "ah, no!" she replied, in a hoarse half-whisper, glancing round in apparent fear. "my people must not observe me having speech with thee. ah, allah may bring one of us to certainty before to-morrow, and--if thou wouldst only help me!" "what service can i render?" i asked, quickly, well aware that the fact of her speaking to a touareg in a public place was of itself a very grave offence in the eyes of the fanatical aissawa. the barrier between the berber and the touareg in tunis is still insurmountable. "first, thou must trust me," she said frankly. "i am called fathma khadidja; and thy name--already i know it. it is dangerous for me to hold converse here with thee. let thy footsteps follow mine. come, and may allah, who knoweth the innermost parts of the breasts of men, shower upon thee bounteous blessings," and she turned and started off with that waddling gait peculiar to all arab women. i hesitated. if really in distress, it was strange that she had not called upon her own people to help her, instead of requesting a touareg and a stranger to render assistance. no. i decided not to go, and sat watching her receding figure cross the market-place where slaves were sold even within recent years, and disappear in the shadow of the mosque. in an hour i had forgotten the mysterious fathma and her troubles, and returned to tunis. next afternoon, as i entered my temporary abode in the kasbah-kasneh, my slave handed me a note. as i tore it open it emitted an odour of geranium, the favourite perfume of the harem. having read the three long lines of sprawly arabic characters it contained, i placed the missive in my pocket and turned away. if i valued my life, i was to meet khadidja that evening. was that a threat, or a warning? during the remainder of that day i lounged outside the cafes and pondered deeply. for hours i ruminated over absinthe and mazagran, cassis and bock; and, after much consideration, i at length resolved to keep the appointment, and ascertain the extent of the mysterious danger of which she wrote. at the appointed hour i awaited her at a secluded spot outside the bab alewa. the clock of the mosque of sidi mahrez, close by, struck solemnly, and as the last sound died away i heard the _frou-frou_ of feminine garments, as a shrouded figure advanced to meet me. "ah, so thou hast kept thine appointment, o touareg!" she exclaimed, stretching forth to me a soft white hand. "thou thinkest, because i believe in the one, and in mahomet his prophet, that i am unworthy thy regard; that i am not to be trusted, eh?" then she laughed lightly, adding, "come, let us hasten. i want to have serious speech with thee upon a matter that affecteth us both." without replying, i walked on beside her, wondering whether she were ugly or beautiful. crossing a deserted garden, we passed out to where two asses were tethered, and, mounting them, rode away into the darkness. i remember that we went through several villages, and at length came to a larger place built upon the low cliffs, where a number of spacious flat-roofed houses overlooked the sea. suddenly she dismounted before a low arched door in one of the great square, inartistic, whitewashed residences, and placed her fingers upon her lips indicative of silence. taking a key that was suspended around her neck, she unlocked the door and led me into a dark passage so thickly carpeted that my feet fell noiselessly as she guided me onward. once i caught a glimpse of a spacious patio, rendered cool by a plashing fountain and green with many leaves; then through two small chambers we passed, until we came to a closed door, which she opened, and i found myself in a spacious, dimly illumined apartment, decorated in quaint arabesques of dark crimson and dull gold. everything was rich and luxurious. the air was heavy with sensuous odours rising in a thin blue column from the gold perfuming-pan. on the floor lay costly arab rugs, and a couple of lion skins were thrown down on each side of the centre mat. a _derbouka_, and a _ginkri_, fashioned from a tortoise-shell, lay thrown aside, while from a magnificent hanging-lamp of gold a soft, mellow light was diffused, though scarcely sufficient to show the heavy draperies that concealed the walls. "best thee a moment, and i will return," my mysterious veiled guide said; and then, drawing aside some of the silken hangings, she disappeared through a door that had been hidden. with hands behind me, i slowly wandered round, wondering what apartment of the house this was, when some half-finished embroidery that had apparently been tossed hurriedly aside upon a coffee stool of inlaid pearl and silver caught my eye. that told me the truth. my heart gave a sudden bound. i was in the harem! a french novel lay open on one of the little tables. i took it up, and, as i stood in wonderment, a movement behind me caused me to turn, and then i beheld the most beautiful woman i had ever gazed upon. she was not more than twenty-two, with a complexion fresh as a frenchwoman's, features that were perfect, pretty lips parted in a glad smile, and a dress that was the most gorgeous i had ever seen. the ugly _haick_ had been replaced by a _rlila_ of palest leaf-green brocaded silk, beneath which showed a rose-pink velvet vest; and, in the place of the baggy trousers, she wore the _serroual_, of silken gauze. her tiny bare feet were thrust into slippers of rose velvet; on her head was set jauntily a little crimson skull-cap embroidered with seed-pearls; and her _fouta_, or sash, was of tricolour-striped silk, richly ornamented with gold. upon her bare arms and ankles diamonds flashed and sparkled with a thousand fires, and her bangles jingled as she moved. she dazzled and fascinated me. with an apology for having left me, she sank slowly among her cushions with graceful abandon, at the same time losing one of her slippers, and motioning me to a seat near her. "thou thinkest it strange," she said; "perhaps even thou art angry, that i have brought thee hither alone unto this gilded cage. but i must speak with thee, o man of the desert--to warn thee;" and her dimpled chin rested upon her dainty palm as she, with seriousness, looked straight into my eyes. "to warn me! of what?" "thou art threatened," she answered slowly. "thou wilt, perhaps, remember that a month ago thou wert in kabylia, and left fort national for tizi ouzou. thou hadst the careless indifference that thy free life giveth, and, no doubt, thou wert prepared to meet eblis himself if he promised an adventure. on that occasion with whom didst thou travel?" "i journeyed in company of a wealthy man of thy people, who was returning from the wine market." "true, o friend," she replied. "a week ago thou didst describe that journey to a frank of the _moniteur de l'algerie_, and ridiculed thy companion. see here!" and stretching forth her hand, she took up a paper containing an interview in which i had treated the journey in a comic vein, and had denounced in no measured terms the bigotry of my fellow-traveller. "thou art a veiled man; and that man," she continued, "hath sworn upon the book of everlasting will to kill thee!" "how dost thou know this, o thou whose face is rivalled only by the sun?" i asked quickly. "because--because the man thou hast ridiculed is my husband!" she replied, rising, and adding wildly, "because i overheard the villainous scheme that he hath planned with his brother to take thy life, and at the risk of mine own honour i determined to save thee. allah alone knoweth how terrible is my life alone in this place with my servants, bound to a fierce, brutal man who loveth me not, and upon whose brow the cafer hath set seal." "is thy husband neglectful, then?" i asked, noticing the poignant sorrow that in that moment seemed to have crushed her. "alas! yes. whithersoever i go the curse of sajin seemeth upon me," she sighed, passing her slim, bejewelled hand slowly across her white forehead. tears welled in her brilliant eyes, as she added in a broken voice, "i am lost--lost to all; soulless, uncared for, unloved." she hesitated a moment thoughtfully, glancing first at her own bejewelled hands find then at mine. with a quick movement she drew from one of her fingers a curious ring of silver, around which were arabic characters in gold. "see!" she cried, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her. "take this, and wear it. it is my talisman, and as long as it is upon thy finger no harm can befall thee. it beareth the stamp of `la belle,' and will preserve thee in health and guard thee in the hour of tribulation." she took my hand in hers, and drawing my own ring from my finger, replaced it by her strange-looking talisman, afterwards slipping my own ring upon her hand. a sob escaped her. "we have exchanged rings!" she exclaimed brokenly, looking up into my face with tear-stained, world-weary eyes. then, clutching her bare breast as if to still the throbbing of her heart, she cried, "when--when thou art far away, thou wilt, peradventure, sometimes gaze upon mine, and remember that a service was once rendered thee by a poor, unhappy woman--thou wilt recollect that her name is fathma khadidja--that--that--ah! forgive me, for i am mad! mad!" raising my hand to her warm lips, she kissed it passionately with all the fire and ardour of the child of the sun. then, releasing me, she tottered back, panting, and sank upon her silken divan, with her face buried in her hands, sobbing as if her heart would break. "_cama tafakal kathalika tola ki_," i said, quoting at random from the koran. "come, come," i added sympathetically, sinking down beside her, tenderly stroking her long, silky tresses. "despair not. the one worthy of praise knoweth how thou sufferest, and will give unto thee strength in the hour of thy need, and bring thee into the shadow of the great lote tree." "ah! thy mouth uttereth pearls of wisdom," she cried wildly. "but i have touched thee, a touareg, and am accursed by allah. i care nought for the future, for already am i forsaken, already have i tasted of the bitter fruit of al-zakkum, and am doomed to the torture of al-hawiyat, the place prepared for the evil-doers." then, raising her face to mine, with an intense look of passionate love, she said in a soft, sibilant whisper, "once only! kiss me once! then thou mayest go, and never shall we meet--never!" her beautiful head fell upon my shoulder, and her hair--soft as spun silk--strayed across my face. for a moment her lips met mine in a hot, passionate kiss, a caress enough to make any man's head reel. "i love thee," she whispered, in low, half-frightened tones, as she clung to me, and would not allow me to release myself. "unseen by thee, i have watched thee many moons, and to-night have i brought thee hither to tell thee--to confess to thee my secret." i tried to draw my lingering lips from hers, but with the fire of passion gleaming in her brilliant eyes she gripped me with a force i should not have supposed her capable of. "stay," she whispered. "without thee the canker-worm of love eateth away my heart." but i tore myself from her and left. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ next day my business of selling sheep took me to the haras fortress, away behind the hills of ahmar, and the voices of the _muddenin_ were already calling the faithful for the _maghrib_ when i re-entered the kasbah. kasneh, my slave, was playing _damma_ in the courtyard, but rose quietly, saluted, and told me that he had taken to my room a small package which had been left by the negro servant that had brought the letter on the previous day. could it, i wondered, be a present from khadidja? rushing in, i found on my table a small box, packed in white paper and secured with black seals. eagerly i tore away the wrappings and opened it. as i did so a shriek of horror escaped me. i fell back awe-stricken at the sight presented. inside a satin-lined bracelet-case, bearing the name of a paris jeweller, on a piece of pale-blue velvet, there was stretched a human finger that had been roughly hacked off at the joint! it lay stiff, white, and cold, with the blood coagulated where the blunt knife had jagged the flesh. the finger was a woman's--slim, well-formed, with the nail stained by henna. it was loaded with costly rings, which scintillated in the golden ray of sunset that strayed into the room, and fell across them. as i looked, breathless in amazement, i saw among the ornaments my own ring! a scrap of paper that fluttered to the ground bore the words, scrawled in arabic character, "from the husband of fathma khadidja!" that same night i strode furiously along the seashore, watching the glimmering lights in the distance. in fear and trepidation, i took the hideous souvenir of love, and, when far from the city, cast it away from me into the dark rolling waters. perhaps there, deep in its lonely hiding-place, it met the white, dead thing of which it had once formed part--the body of the matchless daughter of the sun whose wondrous hair enmeshed me, whose full, red lips held me like a magnet, shackling me to the inevitable. who can tell? truly, in that brief hour when i lounged at her side, i was at the dreaded bab-el-hawiyat. chapter eight. the queen of the silent kingdom. i entered the silent kingdom six years ago. praise be to allah, whom the weight of a pearl upon the earth does not escape. may prayer and salvation be with the master of the first and last, our lord mahommed. of a verity have i been blessed with blessings abundant, and enveloped by the cloak of his protection. we had left the shore of lake tsad after pillaging a great caravan from the north, and were moving westward across the stern, sterile desert in the direction of gao, or kou-kou, as it is popularly known among us, where we could dispose of our stolen merchandise. for months we had travelled across that immensity of sands where the very birds lose themselves, our camels often stumbling upon some skull, tibia, or even an entire skeleton, the remains of bygone generations of travellers who had perished on those lonely wastes. the sun blazed fiercely in the flaming sky, the skin cracked, the lips were parched. all the water we had was warm and impure, and even that was insufficient to quench our thirst. a scaly viper occasionally crossed our route, and at long intervals the swift flight of an antelope was seen. for days, months, nothing had rejoiced our eyes save the deceitful vision of the mirage, and one evening i decided upon a three days' halt for rest. on the previous day our eyes had been gladdened by the sight of a small well, where we filled our water-skins, therefore we were enabled to take our case; although being in an entirely unfamiliar country, the watchfulness of our sentries was never for a single instant relinquished. we were travelling with the sun only as our guide, therefore knew not into what territory we had entered, save that it was as barren and inhospitable a region as it had ever been our lot to encounter,--a shadowless land of solitude, abandonment, and misery. in our raid upon the caravan near lake tsad a bundle of papers had come into our possession, and these had been handed to me; but travelling constantly, i had not had time or inclination to examine them. that night, however, alone in my tent, i untied them and spread them out. most of them, including a kind of diary, were written in the language of the roumis, and as some bore the image of the liberty of the franks, i concluded that they must have belonged to some french officer in the northern region of the desert, who had probably perished in an attempt to penetrate south. one paper, however, the last i took up, was written in my own tongue, and i read it eagerly. it was an official letter, dated from paris, urging its recipient to secure, if possible, during his explorations, the _fatassi_ of koti, as the french government were extremely anxious to obtain possession of it, and by that letter offered to pay any sheikh or tribesman almost any sum in exchange for it. i put the letter down, smiled, and resumed my pipe. the hapless explorer, whoever he was, had probably died, and certainly his hopes would never be realised, for the _fatassi_ of the learned koti was the phantom book of the soudan. there was not a clansman in the whole of the great desert who did not know all about that priceless volume, yet no one had ever seen it. it had been lost to the world for ages. mohaman koti, or koutou, the great marabout, lived in timbuktu in the year of the hegira, and was the most esteemed and even tyrannical councillor of our ancestor, its powerful king. his authority is said to have originated in the following manner. the king one day distributed some dried dates to his court, and koti, who had recently arrived, was overlooked. shortly afterwards the learned councillor assembled a number of people and dispensed fresh dates among them. this miracle-- for we have no dates in that region of the far south--having reached the king's ears, he discerned that upon koti was set the divine seal, and from that moment gave him all his confidence. a few years later, according to tarik e sudan, koti edited a history of the kingdoms of ganata, songhoi, and timbuktu, the only history written of those once all-powerful centres of civilisation, and in addition he dealt with the concerns of many peoples and many men. families, since grown rich and powerful, and the chiefs of various countries, were shown to be with very humble origins, sometimes being the offspring of slaves. but while the book was being written, news was conveyed to the king of timbuktu that the songhois had revolted, and had combined with the great nation of mossi to attack and capture his capital; therefore, in order to save his great store of treasure, he at once had it made up into single camel-loads, taken out of the city, and secreted in various distant spots on the confines of his empire. it was necessary, of course, to keep a strict and minute description of each spot where the wealth of the capital was concealed, in order that it might be recovered after the war; therefore koti was ordered to inscribe in his book instructions how to unearth the great store of gold and gems, the spoils of war during four centuries. this, according to a legend completely borne out by our tarik, he did, and the precious manuscript was given into the king's own keeping. ere one moon, however, the learned historian died suddenly at tindirma, where a little white mosquelike house marks his grave till this day. the war was fought, proving, alas! disastrous to the king, who was compelled to fly, but, strangely enough the tarik maintains silence regarding his subsequent adventures, or of what became of the precious _fatassi_. legend has it that the king was treacherously poisoned by a slave, as rulers were apt to be in those turbulent days; but by whatever means the once-powerful monarch met with his death, the fact remains that the priceless volume and guide to the enormous treasure of ancient timbuktu was lost to all. for more than four centuries the recovery of the _fatassi_ has been the dream of poor and rich alike. the scholar coveted it because it would shed so much light upon the obscure past of these vast regions; the camel-driver, the merchant, and the prince alike desired to possess it for the information it was known to contain regarding the long-lost wealth. it was because of the latter that the government of the franks desired to obtain it. but theirs, like my own, was but a vain desire. a whole moon passed, and still we pressed forward towards gao, ever in the crimson track of the setting sun. one night, however, when the camp was asleep, the guards raised the alarm, but so suddenly were we attacked that we scarce had time to defend ourselves from a column of french spahis who had swept down upon us. it was a mad, terrible rush. although our tribesmen fought valiantly and well, it was impossible to withstand the frightful hail of bullets poured forth upon us by a gun they carried which spat forth lead in deadly hail. our men, seeing the havoc wrought by this new weapon, turned and fled. fortunately the poison-wind had sprung up, and its clouds of sand cannot be faced by the men of the north; therefore we were enabled to escape, although unfortunately compelled to leave the greater part of the stolen camels and merchandise in their possession. as, in the confusion, i sprang upon a horse and rode through the blinding sandstorm for my life, i heard the thud of the horses' hoofs of my pursuers. from the noise there must have been a score of men, anxious, no doubt, to secure the marauding chief feared by all the caravans. but swift as the wind itself, i rode on alone the greater part of that hot, stifling night, until, pulling up, dismounting, and placing my ear to the ground, i could, detect no sound of pursuit. in the glimmering twilight, as night gave place to day, i saw before me a huge, dark rock, shaped like a camel's hump, rising from the sand, and, riding onward, i there tethered my horse beneath it, and flung myself down to snatch an hour's sleep ere the sun rose, intending then to go forth again and rejoin my scattered people. how long mine eyes were closed allah alone knoweth; but when i opened them i found myself lying on a panther's skin in a darkened chamber, filled with the music of running water. the place was cooled by the stream, and in the dim recesses of the room i could distinguish rich divans. suspended from the roof was a fine moorish lamp of chased gold, which shed a soft, yellow light, and from a perfuming-pan was diffused the sweet odour of attar of rose. the light was soft and restful, and in wonder i rubbed my eyes and gazed about me. "allah give thee peace, o stranger!" a thin squeaking voice exclaimed. and glancing quickly behind me, i beheld a wizen-faced man, small of stature, dressed in a robe of bright blue silk, and so bent by age that his white beard almost swept the ground. notwithstanding his venerable appearance, however, his face was dark and forbidding, and his small, black piercing eyes, that time had not dimmed, had a glint of evil in them. instinctively, ere we had spoken a dozen words, i mistrusted him. "to whose hospitality do i owe the rest and repose i have enjoyed?" i inquired, slowly rising to my feet and stretching my cramped limbs. "my name," the old man croaked, "is ibn batouba. i discovered thee sleeping in the sun outside this my dwelling-place, and brought thee in, for the rays had smitten thee with a grievous sickness, and thou wert on the point of death. thou hast remained here twelve days." "twelve days!" i cried, with incredulity, at the same moment feeling my head reeling. "then to thee i owe my life?" the hideous old man in blue grinned with satisfaction, regarding me with a strange, covert glance. by this time my eyes had grown accustomed to the semi-darkness, and i saw that the chamber was a natural one--a kind of arched cavern, the floor of which had been levelled, and a channel formed for the cool spring that bubbled forth and rippled away into gloomy depths. "this thy dwelling is beneath the surface of the earth," i observed, glancing around me. "why dwellest thou here in secret?" "the true arab answereth not the question of ahamadou, sheikh of the azjar touaregs," he replied, with a sneering accentuation on the final word. "allah hath sent thee as my guest; partake of all that i have, but seek no explanation of who or of what i am." he evidently recognised me, and his strange words puzzled me. first, i had no idea that such a luxurious abode could exist in the centre of that inhospitable region; secondly, the very fact pointed to the conclusion that in my flight i had approached near to a town; but thirdly, i had already proof positive that my strange host, the man who declared he had saved my life, lied to me. at the well where we had halted on the day before the fight, i had plucked a sprig of jasmine, and placed a tiny piece behind my ear, beneath the black nicab around my head. this i recollected, and, taking it in my hand, found it still limp and undried. by that alone i knew i had not been there many hours, and that his story was untrue. i suggested that i should be reluctantly compelled to leave; but he at once became profuse in his hospitality. "no, not yet," he urged. "i am alone, save for my slaves, and thy companionship is pleasant. remain, and i will show thee over this my hidden dwelling-place. it may interest thee." and taking down a torch, he lit it and led the way across a tiny bridge that spanned the running water, and opening a door in the rock, conducted me through several intricate passages, narrow and dark, until we came to a series of caverns of various sizes, each hung with rich silken hangings, and the floors covered by the most beautiful carpets from the east. over each a great golden lamp of filigree shed a soft light, showing how rich and costly were the antique tables of inlaid pearl and silver, and how wide and soft were the divans. in each the thin blue smoke, curling upward from the golden perfuming-pan, gave forth an intoxicating fragrance, and in one i noticed lying discarded a pair of tiny green slippers, embroidered with seed-pearls, and a ginkra, one of those little two-stringed guitars fashioned from a tortoise-shell, both betraying the presence of a woman. when we had passed through half a dozen similar chambers in the solid rock, the old man, croaking as he went, stopped suddenly at the further end of the last and most gorgeous of all his subterranean domain, and with a grim expression on his evil countenance, said-- "and this is the bab-el-hawiyat--the dreaded gate of evil, whence none return." i started, and drew back. throughout the desert there has been for all ages a legend that somewhere there exists the entrance to the dreaded kingdom of darkness where eblis reigneth. he opened wide the small door; but there was only darkness impenetrable, and an odour of damp earth. holding his torch aloft, he crossed the threshold, and bade me peer in. then i distinguished, a few spans from where he stood, a great yawning chasm opening to the very bowels of the earth. "hearken!" he cried in his squeaking, uncanny voice, at the same time returning into the room and snatching up from one of the coffee-stools a large metal dish, which an instant later he hurled into the dark abyss. i listened to ascertain its depth. but no sound came back. i shuddered, for i knew it was unfathomable. as he faced me in closing the door i detected in his keen eyes a strange exultant look, and was seized by a sudden desire to ascend once again to the light of day. true, i could have crushed the life out of him as easily as i could crush a spider in my fingers, while in my belt was my jambiyah that had a score of times tasted the life-blood of mine enemies, yet he had not harmed me, and to kill one's host is forbidden by al-koran. therefore i stayed my hand. as we retraced our steps he poured upon me nauseating adulations, declaring me to be the most valiant sheikh in the great desert, and using the most extravagant simile of which the arabic tongue is capable, a fact which in itself filled me with increasing suspicion. suddenly, however, as we reached the chamber where flowed the cooling spring, the truth was made plain. as he opened the door two officers of the french, in linen garments and white helmets, who had apparently been lying in wait, pounced upon me, uttering loud cries of triumph. the old white-bearded recluse--may allah burn his vitals--had betrayed me. he had held me, and sent word to the franks to come and capture their prize--ahamadou, the chieftain of the azjar. but in an instant i, upon whose head a price was set, drew my blade and defended myself, slashing vigorously right and left, succeeding at last in escaping down the dark winding passage through which we had just passed. forward i dashed through room after room, upsetting some of the tables in my mad rush, while behind me were the white-faced officers with drawn swords, determined to take me alive or dead. well i knew how desperate they were, and in that instant believed myself lost. yet, determined to sell my life dearly, it flashed across my mind that rather than suffer the ignominy of being taken in chains to algiers, the infidel city, and there tried by the tribunal as others had been, i would cast myself into the fathomless pit. i sprang towards the small, low door, but at first could not open it. in a few moments the crafty ibn batouba, with the franks, gained the spot; but i had already unlocked the door and flung it open. then, just as they put out their hands to seize me, i swung aside, lifted my knife, and struck my evil-faced betrayer full to the heart. with a piercing shriek he fell forward over the door lintel, and his lifeless body rolled into the awful chasm, while at the same instant i gave a bound, and with a cry of defiance, leaped down into the darkness after him. i felt myself rushing through air, the wind whistling in my ears as deep down i went like a stone in the impenetrable gloom. those moments seemed hours, until of a sudden a blow on the back knocked me half-insensible, and i found myself a second later wallowing in a bed of thick, soft dust. instantly it occurred to me that because this carpet of dust deadened the sound of things pitched into the chasm, the belief had naturally arisen that it was unfathomable. i rose, but sank up to the knees in the soft sand, which, stirred by my fall, half-choked me. far above, looking distant like a star, i saw the light of a torch. my infidel pursuers were peering into the fearsome place in chagrin that i had evaded them. the air, however, was hot and foul, and i knew that to save my life i must be moving; therefore, with both hands outstretched, i groped about, amazed to discover the great extent of this natural cleft in the earth, formed undoubtedly by some earthquake in a remote age. once i stumbled, and bending, felt at my feet the still warm body of my betrayer--may eblis rend him. i drew my jambiyah from his breast, and replaced it in its sheath. then, tearing from his body the silken gauze which formed his girdle, i fashioned a torch, igniting it after some difficulty with my steel. around me was only an appalling darkness, and i feared to test the extent of the place by shouting, lest my pursuers above should hear. so forward i toiled in a straight line, floundering at every step in the dust of ages, until the cleft narrowed and became tunnel-like with a hard floor. i stooped to feel it, and was astounded to discover that the rock had been worn smooth and hollow by the tramp of many feet. besides, the air had become distinctly fresher, and this fact renewed courage within me. at first i felt myself doomed to die like a fox in a trap; but with hope reawakened there might, after all, i thought, be some outlet. of a sudden, however, there arose before me a colossal female figure seated on a kind of stool, with features so hideous and repulsive that i drew back with an involuntary cry. it was a score times as high as myself, and as i hold my torch above my head to examine it, i saw it was of some white, semi-transparent stone of a kind i had never before beheld. the robes were coloured scarlet and bright blue, and the face and hands were tinted to resemble life. one hand was outstretched. on the brow was a chaplet of wonderful pearls, and on the colossal fingers, each as thick as my own wrist, were massive golden rings which sparkled with gems. but the sinister grinning countenance was indeed that of a high-priestess of eblis. in amazement i held my breath and gazed about me. around the sides of the cavern were ranged many other smaller female figures, seated like the central one, and the face of each bore a hideous, repulsive grin, as if in mockery of my misfortunes. before the great central colossus was a small triangular stone altar, upon which was some object. i crossed, and glancing at it found to my dismay that it was a beautiful and very ancient illuminated manuscript of our holy koran. but through it had been thrust a poignard, now red with rust, and it had been torn, slashed, and otherwise defiled. the truth then dawned upon me that this noisome place into which i had plunged was actually the abode of the ancient and accursed sect who worshipped eblis as their god. as i gazed wonderingly about me, i saw everywhere evidence that for ages no foot of man had entered that dark silent chamber. the dust of centuries lay smooth and untrodden. again i passed beneath the ponderous feet of the gigantic statue, when suddenly my eyes were attracted by an inscription in kufic, the ancient language of the marabouts, traced in geometrical design upon the hem of the idol's garment. my torch had burned dim, so i lit another, and by its flickering rays succeeded in deciphering the following words:-- "lo! i am azour, wife of eblis, and queen of all things beneath the earth. to me, all bow, for i hold its riches in the hollow of my hand." i glanced up quickly, and there, far above, i distinguished that in the idol's open palm there lay some object which the fickle flame of my torch could not reveal. but consumed by curiosity, i at once resolved to clamber up and ascertain what riches lay there. with extreme difficulty, and holding my flambeau in my left hand, i managed at length to reach the platform formed by the knees of the figure, and then scrambled up the breast and along the outstretched arm. but on mounting the latter, i was dismayed to discover that the object for which i had toiled was neither gold, silver, nor gems, but merely a brown and mouldy parchment scroll. standing at last upon the open hand, i bent and picked it up; but in an instant i recognised that my find was of priceless value. ere i had read three lines of the beautifully formed but sadly faded arabic characters, i knew that it was none other than the long-sought manuscript of the _fatassi_, the mysterious phantom book of the soudan. i placed my treasure beneath my dissa, and at once proceeded to descend, eager to discover some means of escape from that gloomy cavern, peopled by its hideous ghosts of a pagan past. in frantic haste i sought means of exit; but not until several hours had elapsed did i succeed in entering a burrow which, leading out into a barren ravine in the desert, had once, no doubt, been used as entrance to the secret temple of those who believed not in the one merciful, but in eblis and azour. after travelling many days, i succeeded in rejoining my people at a spot four marches from gao, bearing concealed in my dissa the priceless history of my ancestors, with the minute plans for the recovery of their hidden treasure. at this moment the _fatassi_, traced by the hand of koti, so long coveted by the franks, is in my possession; though only to two of my headmen have i imparted the secret that i have recovered it. to seek to unearth the ancient treasure at present would be worse than useless, for our conquerors would at once despoil us. but when the great jehad is at last fought, and more peaceful days dawn in the soudan, then will the secret treasure-houses be opened and the azjar become a power in the land, because of the inexhaustible riches left to them by their valiant ancestors for the re-establishment of their lost kingdom. until then, they possess themselves in patience, and trust in the one. to thee, o reader of this my tarik of toil and tumult, peace. chapter nine. the father of the hundred slaves. ahamadou, squatting upon his haunches before our camp fire, calmly smoking his long pipe, related to me the following story, declaring it to be a true incident. all wanderers in the great desert, be they arabs or touaregs, are born story-tellers, therefore i reproduce the narrative as he told it. it must be remembered that the azjars were, at one period--not so very long ago--slavers who made many raids in the primeval forests south of lake tsad, and that ahamadou himself profited very considerably by that illegitimate trade. it was rumoured down at "the coast" that the leaders of these touareg raiders were not africans, and this story appears to substantiate a statement which was, at the time, ridiculed at the colonial office in london. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "get up, you lazy devil. stir yourself. we're in a complete hole!" "hole? hole? ah, your english tongue is indeed extraordinaire! a hole is a place in the ground, _n'est ce pas_?" "yes, and you'll have a hole in the ground all to yourself, my dear pierre, if you don't bustle up a bit." pierre dubois, the man addressed, a bronzed, grey-bearded, stout, small-eyed belgian of fifty, was lying tranquilly on his back on a pile of soft rugs, like an oriental potentate, smoking his _shisha_, or travelling pipe, and being fanned by an extremely ugly negress. dubois was the name he had adopted after leaving the congo hurriedly, carrying with him a goodly sum belonging to the belgian government, in whose employ he had been for ten years. a native of liege, he was one of the pioneers of that so-called central african civilisation of trade, gin, and the whip; but after lining his pockets well, and making good his escape through the boundless virgin forests of "darkest africa," he had started as a trader in that most marketable of all commodities--black ivory. pierre dubois and henry snape, his partner, were slave-raiders. they dressed as arabs, and lived as arabs. outside in the blazing noon, beneath the scanty shade of a few palms and mimosa scrub which surrounded that desert watering-place known as akdul, a number of their heavily-armed followers were lying stretched upon the sand, sleeping soundly after their two-bow prayer to allah, while here and there alone sat one of their number on his haunches, wrapped in his white burnouse, hugging his knees, his rifle at his side, keeping watch. they were a forbidding, evil-looking lot these songhoi touaregs, pirates of the forests and the desert, each with his black _litham_ wrapped around his face concealing his features, a complete arsenal of weapons in his girdle, a string of charms sewn in little bags of yellow leather around his neck, and, strapped beneath his left arm, a short cross-kilted sword, keen-edged as a razor. beyond, lying in the full sun glare, were sixty or seventy wretched, woolly-haired negroes, men and women, chained together and guarded by a dozen of the veiled men. throughout northern and central africa the very name of the songhoi was synonymous with all that was fierce, cruel, and relentless, for they lived by robbing the desert caravans or capturing slaves in the boundless virgin forests between the niger and the congo, being essentially a nomadic race, and having no other home than their tents in the sahara, that limitless wilderness of rock and sand. of all the slavers of central africa these "veiled men" were the worst, for they attacked and burned villages, placed the unfortunate blacks to torture to compel them to reveal the hiding-places of their store of ivory, and afterwards took them prisoners, and sold them in the great central slave-market at el obeid, away in kordofan. among the natives of the upper congo and the aruwimi, even the hordes of that notorious king of slavers, tippu-tib,--so called by the negroes because the guns of his men created a noise, from which they have named him phonetically,--were more tolerated than the fierce songhoi bands, with their black veils, which none ever removed, sleeping or waking; for the track of the latter through the forest or grass-land was always marked by murder, devastation, and wanton cruelty. dubois, when in the service of king leopold, had been active in endeavouring to put down the trade, but seeing how lucrative it was, and finding snape, an english adventurer, ready to join him, he had collected a following of the fiercest touaregs he could gather, and as he paid all well for their services, while on their part they were proud to be led by a white man in whom they had once lived in fear, their trade had, for a long time, been a most lucrative one. they were the terror of the whole region from stanley falls to tanganyika. a dozen times they had been north to el obeid with ivory of both varieties, white and black, and on each occasion the profits had been far beyond their expectations. the trade is still easy enough in the congo state, and slaves are captured without very much difficulty. the great risk, however, is to transport them by the route they had been following for the past two months, as, in order to reach the central market, they had to pass through that portion of british territory where a very watchful eye is kept, and where the notorious arab raider kilonga-longa met his fate only a few months before. but dubois and snape had run the gauntlet many times, and were absolutely fearless. on the present raid through the country of emin and junker, they had made their captures in the moubouttou, within the belgian sphere of influence, with the complicity of the belgian agent at sanga, whom they, of course, bribed with a goodly present of ivory; then, marching through the great forest of eternal night, due northward to zayadin, they had passed through the dinka country to fatik, which, being only two days' march from the bahr-el-guebel upon which the british have posts, is a dangerous point. nevertheless, they had pushed forward night and day, and were now in the centre of that great, sunburnt desert, the wilderness of nouer, which stretches northward for three hundred miles to el obeid. dubois grumbled loudly at the englishman for interrupting his meditations, saying-- "go and sleep, _mon cher_. you'll be getting fever if you worry too much." "worry!" echoed snape. "there's danger, i tell you. surely you're not a confounded fool, man?" "ah," answered his partner, quite calmly, "is there not always danger here, in africa? you have a wonderful imagination, my dear henri, i quite admit; but do allow me to finish my sleep. then let us talk of this extraordinary hole, whatever it may be." "idiot!" ejaculated the englishman, hitching up his flowing white burnouse. he was a tall, good-looking fellow of forty, whose career, however, had been a singularly eventful one. since he left balliol he had met with a good many adventures in various lands, most of them being to his discredit. he had been a born gambler, and had drifted from the london clubs to the tables at monte carlo, and thence, by a very crooked channel, to that sink of the world, africa, where chance had brought him in contact with the scoundrel and arch-slaver dubois. they were a well-matched pair. at college snape had taken honours for arabic, therefore his knowledge of that language now served him in good stead. he was one of those men who could never run straight, even though he had often tried. he was a born outsider. "why idiot?" inquired his partner lazily. the old negress waved the fan backwards and forwards, understanding not a word of the conversation between the headman and the great white sheikh, who, on account of his raiding, the touaregs had named the father of the hundred slaves. "well, i'm not the sort of fellow to let the grass grow under my feet when there's any danger," snapped snape. "you remember what zafar said yesterday." "he's like yourself, _mon cher_,--always apprehensive of some horrible calamity," muttered the belgian, blowing a cloud of smoke from his lips. "this time, i tell you, it's no mere imagination," the englishman went on. "last night, after the _dua_, i left secretly, so as not to arouse any misgivings, and rode due east until the dawn, when i discovered, encamped among the _aghrad_, a whole troop of soudanese soldiers. i got near enough to ascertain that the officers were englishmen." "well?" "they've got word somehow that we are passing through," he said. "and now, if you don't stir yourself, you'll never see brussels again--you understand?" "i have no wish to see bruxelles, _mon cher_," the elder man replied, quite undisturbed. "if i did, it would only be to see the inside of a prison. no; i prefer africa to the pleasures of the miniature paris. here, if one has a little ivory, one is a king. life is very pleasant." "i admit that," his companion said. "but do, for heaven's sake, get up and let us decide what to do. there's danger, and we can't afford to be trapped, especially with all those niggers tied in a string. the evidence is a bit too strong against us, and the officers are english. there's no bribing _them_, you know." the belgian stirred himself lazily at last, and asked-- "are they at a well?" "no. they are without water." "then as this is the only well for about a hundred miles, they'll arrive here to-day--eh?" "of course. that's why i came straight to warn you. there's no time to be lost. let's strike camp and get away. it's skip or fight." "if we skeep--i suppose you mean march--ah! your english language!--then they will skeep in pretty quick time after us. they've got wind of our presence in the vicinity, therefore why not remain and fight?" "fight my own people?" cried snape. "no, i'm damned if i do!" "why not?" asked the belgian, with gesticulation. "our touaregs will slice them into mincemeat. besides, at long range they're as good shots, and better, than those soudanese, all fez and swagger." "no," the englishman argued. "let's fly now, while there's time. in two days we shall be in the nioukour, and they'll never find us in the mountains. we hid there quite snugly once before, you recollect." "muhala," said the belgian, turning to the old negress, "go. call yakub, and remain outside." the hideous old woman went forth into the sun glare, and in a few moments an old thin-faced touareg entered, making a low salaam. "now, yakub," exclaimed the belgian in arabic, "answer me. of what did our caravan consist when we left the aruwimi?" "three hundred and thirty-three slaves, and twenty-nine tusks," answered the villainous-looking old fellow. "and now?" "seventy-three blacks and twenty-nine tusks." "then two hundred and sixty have died?" "yea, o master," he responded. "the new lash of elephant hide has killed many, and the black death has been responsible for the remainder. five are suffering from it now, and never a day passes ere one or more is not attacked. i have feared that none will live to sight the mosques of el obeid." "in short, yakub, they are a diseased lot--eh? you think they're worthless?" "only two women are left, o master, and both were seized by the black death yesterday." "in that case," observed the belgian, turning to his partner, "the whole batch are not worth transporting. the game is not, as you english say, worth the lamp." "then what's your suggestion?" asked snape. "well, as you are so much in fear of these confounded english, we must, i suppose, act." "how?" "it is quite simple. we just abandon the whole lot, and save ourselves and the ivory." "very well," his companion agreed. "i'm open to any move except fighting against the english." "bah! you are full of scruples, _mon cher_ henri," he laughed. "i have none--none. and i am happy--perfectly happy." he was silent a moment, as though reflecting deeply. "but," he added, "i do wish we could teach these interfering english a lesson. it would do them good. they try to rule africa nowadays. ah! if we could--if we could!" and there was a strange glint of evil in his eyes. an hour later dubois and snape, at the head of their formidable troop of brigandish horsemen, were riding at full speed across the desert due west, towards the far distant forest of dyonkor, it having been decided to skirt this, and then travel south for a fresh raid in congo territory. as for the poor wretches bound together, and dying of thirst and disease, they were still secured to the palm trunks and abandoned to their fate, tortured by being within sight of the well, yet unable to slake the frightful thirst consuming them. dwellers in the damp, gloomy forest, where the sunlight never penetrates, the intense heat of the desert struck them down one after another, sending them insane or killing them outright. time after time snape turned in his high arab saddle, glancing back apprehensively to see if they were followed. but his partner only laughed sarcastically, saying--"you still fear your friends the english? ah! you have the heart of the chicken. all is quite unnecessary. we have made them a present of the whole lot, and i hope they will appreciate our kindness. now we shall take it easy, and hope for better fortune with the next batch. i fancy that the new lash must be too hard. the women can't stand it, so it seems." "a little less whipping and a little more water would keep 'em in better condition," snape observed. "yakub is eternally lashing them for some imaginary laziness or offence." "yes, it's all due to that new lash," the belgian admitted. "it must be used with less frequency on the next lot." "it's a revolting punishment. twenty blows kill a strong nigger," his companion declared. "the thing ought to be thrown away." "ah, yes," sneered his companion. "you would, if you had your own way, keep women to brash the flies off them, and carry feather-beds for them to sleep on. you always forget that you are not dealing with civilised beings. they're mere niggers." "well, we're not of the most civilised type, you and i, if the unwelcome truth be told," the englishman responded. "if we are trapped there'll be a howl in europe." "but i, for one, don't mean to be caught," laughed the belgian gaily, with perfect confidence of his security. and they both rode side by side, the troop of white-burnoused pirates of the desert thundering on behind, raising a cloud of dust which, in that clear atmosphere, could be seen many miles away. on, on they sped over the burning sand, riding easily at a hand gallop, without a halt, the black-veiled raiders laughing and chaffing, chattering, pushing forward, even in the blood-red track of the dying day. night fell quickly, as it does in that region. the slavers encamped in a sandy hollow beneath the rocks, and dubois, ordering the tent to be pitched, sat smoking with his partner after the dish of _dakkwa_ (pounded guinea-corn with dates) which old muhala had prepared. they were alone. "to camp like this before we reach the forest is, to my mind, simply inviting capture," snape grumbled. "the military detachment is evidently out in search of us, and the little lot we've abandoned will point out to them the direction we've taken. then they'll follow and overtake us." "oh no, they won't," answered the belgian, with a serene smile. "what makes you so sure?" "remember that, coming up from the river, they must have been at least six days without water; therefore they'll halt at akdul to drink and fill their water-skins before pushing forward." "well?" inquired snape. the crafty belgian looked curiously into the face of his companion, and smiled grimly. "well, if they halt there," he said, "they won't trouble us any more." "i don't understand." "i doctored the water before we left. that's why i didn't leave the blacks loose to drink it." "what!" gasped the englishman wildly, starting to his feet. "you've actually poisoned the well?" the belgian nodded and laughed, without removing his _shisha_ from his lips. "you scoundrel! you fiend!" the englishman shouted, his face white with passion. "i've done some shabby tricks in my time, but, by heaven! i'd rather have given myself up than have assented to the wholesale murder of my own people like that!" a sarcastic smile crossed the belgian's sinister features. "excitement is entirely unnecessary, _mon cher_ henri," he said, calmly. "it may, you know, bring on a touch of fever. besides, by this time there isn't many of them, white or black, left to tell the tale. yakub, whom i left behind to watch, has just come in to report that they arrived an hour after we had left, released the slaves, and watered freely, enjoying themselves immensely. before he started to return, fully fifty were dead or dying, including all the white officers. but why trouble further? we've saved ourselves." "trouble!" roared snape, his eyes flashing with a fierce fire of indignation, "get up, you infernal scoundrel, or i'll shoot you as you lie! you're an outlaw; so am i. trouble! why, one of those white officers was jack myddleton, my brother, and," he added in a harsh tone--"and i'm going to avenge his death!" instantly dubois saw his partner's intention, and sprang to his feet, revolver in hand. two reports sounded almost simultaneously, but only one man fell. it was the belgian, who, with an imprecation on his lips, dropped back with a bullet through his temple, and in a few seconds expired. at dawn muhala discovered her master dead, and his companion missing. search was at once made for the englishman, who was found lying dead upon the sand half a mile from the camp. he had committed suicide. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ around the well of akdul the caravans that water there in crossing the arid wilderness still see quantities of hones of horses and of men. long ago the vultures have stripped them, and they now lie bleaching in the sun, a mute record of a coward's treachery, of the revolting vengeance of the father of the hundred slaves. chapter ten. the mystery of afo. in the mystic haze of the slowly dying day, mounted on a _meheri_, or swift camel, i carried my long rifle high above my head, and rode speedily over the great silent wilderness of treacherous, ever-shifting sand. once i drew rein to listen, turning my eyes to the left, where the distant serrated crests of the mountains of nanagamma loomed forth like giant shadows; but as nothing broke the appalling stillness, i, a mere tribesman then, sped forward again, reaching a small oasis, where i made my camel kneel, and then dismounted. as i strode towards the lonely shrine of sidi okbar--a small doomed building constructed of sun-dried mud, under which reposed the remains of one of our most venerated marabouts--i fear my burnouse was brown, ragged, and travel-stained; the haick that surrounded my face was torn and soiled, and upon my feet were rough, heavy slippers, sadly the worse for wear. the latter, however, i kicked off on approaching the shrine; then, kneeling close to the sun-blanched wall, cast sand upon myself, kissed the earth, and, drawing my palms down my face, repeated the testification. in fervent supplication i bowed repeatedly, and, raising my voice until it sounded distinct on the still air, invoked the blessing of allah. "o merciful! o beneficent grantor of requests!" i cried; "o king of the day of faith, guide us, ere to-morrow's sun hath run its course, into the path that is straight, and leadeth unto the _kasbah_ of our enemies of abea. strengthen our arms, lead us in times of darkness and in the hours of day, destroy our enemies, and let them writhe in al-hawiyat, the place prepared for infidels, where their meat shall be venomous serpents, and they shall slake their thirst with boiling pitch." startled suddenly by a strange sound, i listened with bated breath. the thought occurred to me that my words might have been overheard by some spy, and instinctively my hand drew from my belt my _jambiyah_, the long, crooked dagger that i always carried. again a noise like a deep-drawn sigh broke the silence, and i sprang to my feet and rushed round to the opposite side of the building, just in time to see a fluttering white robe disappearing in the gloom. quick as lightning i sprang towards it, and in twenty paces had overtaken the eavesdropper, who, with a slight scream, fell to earth beneath my heavy hand. "rise!" i cried, roughly dragging the figure to its feet. "thou son of eblis!" next second, however, i discovered that the fugitive was a woman, veiled, enshrouded in her haick, and wearing those baggy white trousers that render the arab females hideous when out of doors. "thou hast overheard my orison," i cried, raising my knife. "speak! speak! or of a verity will i strike!" but the mysterious woman uttered no word, and in a frenzy of desperation i tore the veil from her face. aghast i stood; the knife fell from my lingers. the countenance revealed was amazingly beautiful, so charming, indeed, that instantly i became entranced by its loveliness, and stood speechless and abashed. she was not more than eighteen, and her features were regular, with a fair complexion, a pair of brilliant dark eyes set well apart under browns blackened by kohl, and a forehead half-hidden by strings of golden sequins that tinkled musically each time she moved. upon her head was set jauntily a little scarlet _chachia_, trimmed heavily with seed-pearls, while her neck was encircled by strings of roughly-cut jacinths and turquoises, and in the folds of her silken haick there clung the subtle perfumes of the harem. slowly she lifted her fine eyes, still wet with tears, to mine, and, with her breast rising and falling quickly, trembled before me, fearing my wrath. "loosen thy tongue's strings!" i cried at last, grasping her slim white wrist with my rough, hard hand. "thou art from afo, the city in the sky, and thou hast gained knowledge of our intended attack?" "thy lips, o stranger, speak the truth," she faltered. "why art thou here, and alone, so far from thine home on the crest of yonder peak?" i inquired, gazing at her in wonderment. "i came hither for the same purpose as thyself," she answered seriously, looking straight into my face,--"to crave allah's blessing." "art thou a dweller in the house of grief?" i asked. "tell me why thou didst venture here alone." she hesitated, toying nervously with the jewelled perfume-bottle suspended at her breast; then she answered, "i--i am betrothed to a man i hate. the merciful giver of blessings alone can rescue me from a fate that is worse than death--a marriage without love." "and who is forcing thee into this hateful union? if it is thy father, tell me his name?" "yes, it is my father. his name is abd el jelil ben sef e' nasr, sultan of abea." "the sultan!" i cried in amazement. "then thou art kheira!" i added, for the extraordinary beauty of the only daughter of the sultan of abea was proverbial throughout the great desert, from lake tsad, even to the atlas. "yes," she replied. "and from thy speech and dress i know thou art of the azjar, our deadliest enemies." "true," i answered. "to-morrow my tribe, to the number of ten thousand, now lying concealed in the valley called deforou, will swarm upon thine impregnable city and--" "ten thousand?" she gasped, pale and agitated. "and thou wilt kill my father, and reduce our people to slavery. ah, no!" she added imploringly. "save us, o stranger! our fighting men went south one moon ago to collect the taxes at dehagada, therefore we are unprotected. what can i do--how can i act to save my father?" "dost thou desire to save him, even though he would force upon thee this odious marriage?" "i do," she cried. "i--i will save the city in the sky at the cost of mine own life." "to whom art thou betrothed," i asked, tenderly taking her hand. "to the agha hassan e rawi, who dwelleth at zongra, beyond the nanagamma. he is threescore years and ten, and 'tis said he treateth his wives with inhuman cruelty. one of his slaves told me so." i stood silent and thoughtful. though i was a member of a tribe who existed wholly upon loot obtained from the caravans and towns we attacked, yet so earnestly did the sultan's daughter appeal, that all thought of preserving the secret of our intended attack by murdering her disappeared, and i found myself deeply in love. mine was a poor chance, however, i told myself. the proud sultan of abea would never consent to a brigand as a son-in-law, even if she looked upon me with favour. "to-night, o daughter of the sun, we meet as friends; to-morrow as enemies," i said. "our spies have reported that thy city remaineth undefended, and, alas! there is a blood-feud between my people and thine; therefore, when the hosts of the azjar enter with fire and sword, few, i fear, will be spared. wilt thou not remain here with my tribesmen, and escape?" "no," she answered proudly. "i am a woman of afo, and i will return unto my people, even though i fall before to-morrow's sundown under thy merciless swords." as she spoke, one hand rested upon her supple hip, and with the other she pointed to the high, shadowy peak whereon stood the great white stronghold known to the kanouri people as the city in the sky. "but thou, who art like a sun among the stars, knowest our plans, and it is my duty to kill thee," i said, hitching my burnouse about my shoulders. "i am in thine hands. if thou stainest them with my blood, thou wilt ever have upon thy conscience the remembrance that thou hast taken the life of one who was innocent of intrigue. if thou givest me freedom, i shall have at least one brief hour of felicity with my people before-- before--" and she sighed, without concluding the sentence. "thou, a fresh rose from the fountain-head of life, art in fear of a double fate,--the downfall of to-morrow, and the marriage feast next moon. let not thy mind be troubled, for i stretch not forth the tongue to blame," i said at last, endeavouring to smile. "in ahamadou, of the tribe azjar, thou hast a devoted friend, and one who may peradventure assist thee in a manner thou hast not dreamed. therefore mount thine horse and return with all speed to afo--not, however, before thou hast given me some little souvenir of this strange meeting." "thou slakest my thirst with the beverage of kindness!" she cried in joy. "i knew when first i saw thee that thou wert my friend." "friend?--nay, lover," i answered gallantly, as, taking her tiny hand again, i pressed her henna-stained nails softly to my lips. she blushed and tried to draw away, but i held her firmly until she withdrew one of her gold bangles from her wrist, and, with a smile, placed it upon mine. "behold!" she exclaimed with a merry, rippling laugh, "it is thy badge of servitude to me!" "i am a slave of the most handsome mistress in the world," i said happily. then, urging her to warn the sultan of the intentions of the azjar, i kissed her once tenderly upon the lips, lifted her into the saddle of her gaily caparisoned horse, and then she twisted her torn veil about her face, and, giving me "peace," sped away swift as an arrow into the darkness, bearing intelligence that would cause the utmost sensation in the mountain fastness. "i love her," i murmured, when the sound of her horse's hoofs had died away. "but how can i save her? to-morrow, when we enter afo and loot the palace, she will be secured as slave. no!" i cried, "she shall never fall into nikale's brutal hands--never while i have breath!" the sound of whispering caused me to fix my gaze upon a dark shadow thrown by some ethel-bushes, and next second, half a dozen of my fellow tribesmen advanced. "so, dog of a spy! thou hast betrayed us!" cried a voice, which in a moment i was startled to recognise as that of my enemy mohammed el sfaski. "yes," the others shouted with one accord; "we watched the son of offal speaking with the woman, and we overheard him telling her to warn the sultan!" "follow her on the wings of haste!" cried el sfaski. "kill her, for death alone will place the seal of muteness upon the lips of such a jade." and in a few seconds two black-veiled figures vaulted into their saddles and tore past in the direction kheira had disappeared. "speak!" thundered el sfaski, who, with the others, had now surrounded me. "knowest thou the punishment of traitors?" "yes," i answered, hoarsely. "who is the woman whose blackness and deceit hath captivated thee?" three rapid shots sounded in the distance. the men had evidently overtaken and murdered the daughter of the sultan! i held my breath. "i--i refuse to give thee answer," i said, resolutely. "by allah! thou art a traitor to our lord and to our tribe, and of a verity thou hast also the eye of perfection. therefore shalt thou die!" then, turning to the others, he added-- "we have no time to bandy words with this accursed son of the evil one. tie him to yon tree, and let the vultures feast upon their carrion." with loud imprecations the men seized me, tore off my haick and burnouse, and bound me securely to a palm trunk in such a position that i could only see the great expanse of barren sand. then, with that refinement of cruelty of which the nomadic azjar are past-masters, they smeared my face, hands, and feet with date-juice, to attract the ants and other insects; and, after jeering at me and condemning me to everlasting perdition and sempiternal culpability, they remounted their horses, and, laughing heartily, left me alone to wait the end. through the long, silent night, with arms and legs bound so tightly that i could not move them, i remained, wondering what terrible fate had befallen the beautiful girl who had overheard my orison. my two clansmen had not returned. i knew the men were splendid riders, therefore it was more than probable that they had very quickly overtaken her. utterly hopeless, well knowing that to the blazing sun and the agonies of being half-devoured by insects i must very soon succumb, i waited, my ears on the alert to catch every sound. in the sky a saffron streak showed on the edge of the sandy plain, heralding the sun's coming. i watched it gradually spread, knowing that each moment brought me nearer to an end of agony. i lifted my voice in supplication to allah, and showered voluble curses upon the expedition about to be attempted by my tribe. the pale, handsome face of kheira was ever before me, haunting me like a half-remembered dream, its beauty fascinating me, and even causing me to forget the horror of those hours of dawn. saffron changed to rose, and rose to gold, until the sun shone out, lighting up the trackless waste. the flies, awakened, began to torment me, and i knew that the merciless rays beating down upon my uncovered head would quickly produce the dreaded delirium of madness. the furnace heat of sunshine grew intense as noon approached, and i was compelled to keep my eyes closed to avoid the blinding glare. suddenly a noise fell upon my ear. at first it sounded like a low, distant rumbling; but soon my practised ears detected that it was the rattle of musketry and the din of tom-toms. the city in the sky was being attacked! my tribesmen had arranged to deliver the assault at noon, but what puzzled me was a sullen booming at frequent intervals. it was the sound of cannon, and showed plainly that afo was being defended! from where i was i could see nothing of it. indeed, the base of the mountain was eight miles distant, and the city, perched upon its summit, could only be approached from the opposite side by a path that was almost inaccessible. yet hour after hour the rapid firing continued, and it was evident a most desperate battle was being fought. this puzzled me, for had not kheira said that the city was totally undefended? still, the tumult of battle served to prevent me from lapsing into unconsciousness; and not until the sun sank in a brilliant, blood-red blaze did the firing cease. then all grew silent again. the hot poison-wind from the desert caused the feathery heads of the palms to wave like funeral plumes, and night crept on. the horrible torture of the insects, the action of the sun upon my brain, the hunger, the thirst, and the constant strain of the nerves, proved too much; and i slept, haunted by spectral horrors, and a constant dread of the inevitable--that half-consciousness precursory of death. so passed the second night, until the sun reappeared; but mine eyes opened not. the heat of the blazing noon caused me no concern, neither did the two great grey vultures that were hovering over me; for it was not until i heard voices in the vicinity that i gazed around. one voice, louder than the others, was uttering thanks to allah. i listened; then, summoning all my strength that remained, i cried aloud, in the name of the one merciful, for assistance. there were sounds of hurrying footsteps, voices raised in surprise, a woman's scream, and then objects, grotesquely distorted, whirled around me, and i knew no more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ when i again opened my weary, fevered eyes, i was amazed to find myself lying upon a soft, silken divan in a magnificent apartment, with slaves watching, ready to minister to my wants. i took a cooling draught from a crystal goblet handed to me, then raised myself, and inquired where i was. the slaves made no reply, but, bowing low, left. then in a few moments the _frou-frou_ of silk startled me, and next second i leaped to my feet, and, with a cry of joy, clasped kheira in my arms. in her gorgeous harem dress of pale rose silk, with golden bejewelled girdle, she looked bewitching, though around her eyes were dark rings that betrayed the anxiety of the past few days. as our lips met in hot, passionate kisses, she was followed by a tall, stately, dark-bearded man of matchless bearing, whose robe was of amaranth silk, and who wore in his head-dress a magnificent diamond aigrette. kheira saw him, and withdrawing herself from my embrace, introduced me to her father, the sultan of abea. "to thee i owe my life and my kingdom," said the potentate, giving me "peace," and wringing my hand warmly. "kheira hath related unto me the mercy thou didst show towards her; and it was thy word of warning that enabled us to repel and defeat the azjar." "then thou, didst escape, o signet of the sphere of elegance!" i cried, turning to the sultan's daughter. "yes; though i was hard pressed by two of thine horsemen, i took the secret path, and thus were they baffled." "the director of fate apprised our fighting men of our danger," said the sultan; "and they returned on the same night. the breeze of grace blew; the sun of the favour of allah shone. the news brought by kheira was quickly acted upon, and the defences of the city so strengthened, that when at noon the assault was delivered, our cannon swept thy tribesmen from the pass like grains of sand before the sirocco. for six hours they fought; but their attempts to storm the city gate were futile, and the handful of survivors were compelled to retire, leaving nearly five hundred prisoners, including your sheikh himself, in our hands." "and how was i rescued?" i inquired, after briefly explaining how my conversation with kheira had been overheard. "on the day following the fight, we went unto the shrine of sidi okbar to render thanks to allah, and there found thee dying of heat and thirst. thou didst sacrifice thy life to save our ruler and his city, therefore we brought thee hither," she said. then, taking my hands, the sultan added, "thou hast the verdure of the meadows of life. may allah preserve thee, and grant unto thee long years of perfect peace, and an eternal rose-garden of happiness. wipe off the rust of _ennui_ and fatigue from the speculum of thy mind, and follow me; for a feast is already prepared for the celebration of this victory." and we passed onward through the private pavilions--bewildering in their magnificence of marble and gold, and green with many leaves--to the great hall of the divan, where, standing under the royal baldachin of yellow silk brocade, the sultan of abea rejoiced me with his favours, proclaiming me, ahamadou, tribes man of the azjar, the saviour of the city in the sky. no touareg has ever contracted marriage with an arab; therefore, after tarrying in afo for many moons, i made peace with my people and returned unto them, for the wild life of the limitless sands was more congenial to me than the ease and perfumes of palaces and the favours of kings. the throne of the great torture. far south, beyond the atlas mountains, beyond that great, limitless plain of the talidat where nothing meets the aching eye but a dreary waste of red-brown, drifting sand, one experiences some curious phases of a life comparatively unknown, and little understood in european civilisation. there, life to-day is the same as it was ten centuries ago--the same as it will ever be: free and charming in its simplicity, yet with many terrors ever present, and sun-bleached bones ever reminding the lonely traveller that a pricked water-skin means the end of all things. the veiled man--by william le queux on a journey alone from biskra to mourzouk, in fezzan, i foolishly disregarded the injunctions of my fellow tribesmen, and was rendered extremely uncomfortable by the astounding discovery that the camel caravan i had joined in zaouia timassanin, and with which i had been travelling for twenty days, belonged to the kel-izhaban, a tribe of marauders and outlaws with whom we had had for years a fierce blood-feud, and whose depredations and relentless butchery of their weaker neighbours caused them to be held in awe from morocco across to tripoli, and from biskra to lake tsad. in addition, i ascertained that the sheikh, known to me as sidi el-adil, or "the just," was really none other than abdul-melik, like myself, a pirate of the desert, against whom the french government had sent three expeditions, and upon whose head a price had been set. with bronzed, aquiline features, long grey beard, and keen, deep-set eyes; tall, erect, agile, and of commanding presence, he was a splendid specimen of the true-bred arab of the plains. though he expressed intense hatred for the infidel, and invoked curses most terrible upon the horsemen of the roumis in general, and those of the azjar in particular, he, nevertheless, treated me with haughty courtesy, and extended to me the hand of friendship. as, at the head of our cavalcade of two hundred armed horsemen and a long string of camels, he rode day by day across the parched wilderness, interspersed by small sand-hills and naked ledges of rock, speckled with ethel-bushes half overwhelmed by sand, he was truly an imposing figure. his burnouse was of finest white wool, embroidered heavily with silk; the haick surrounding his face was of spotless china-silk, and around his head was wound many yards of brown camel's hair. the saddle upon which he sat was of crimson velvet, embroidered with gold and set with precious stones, and stirrups and spurs of massive silver completed the trappings of his splendid coal-black horse, which he managed with rare perfection and skill. on my white ku-hai-lan stallion, i usually rode at his side, chatting to him in his own tongue, while two hundred of his people, erect in their saddles, and with their long-barrelled rifles slung behind, were ready to instantly execute his slightest wish. the days were breathless and blazing. scorched by the sun, and half-suffocated by the sand-laden wind, our way lay through a wilderness that nature had forsaken. at night, however, when the outlaws of the desert had cast sand upon their feet and prayed their _maghrib_, and we had encamped under the palms of the oasis, eaten our dates and kouss-kouss, and slaked our thirst from our water-skins, then commenced the real luxury of the day--the luxury of idleness--as, reclining on a mat in front of the sheikh's tent, with coffee and a cigarette, the great abdul-melik would relate with slow distinctness stories of past encounters between his people and the hated christians. while sentries with loaded rifles kept a vigilant look-out lest we should be surprised by the ever-watchful spahis or chasseurs, half--a-- dozen arabs would squat in a semicircle before the great sheikh, and, twanging upon their queer little banjos fashioned from tortoise-shells over which skin is stretched, would chant weirdly, in a strange staccato, arab songs of love and war. at that hour a coolness falls over everything, intense silence reigns, the sky above grows a deeper and deeper blue, and the palms and talha trees look mysterious in the half-light. soon the stars shine out like diamond points, and it grows darker and darker, until the chill night-breeze of the desert stirs the feathery heads of the date-palms. then the lawless nomads, my companions, would wrap their burnouses closely about them, scoop out a hole in the warm sand, and there repose until the first flush of dawn. about five weeks after i had inadvertently thrown in my lot with the kel-izhaban, and after penetrating a region that, as far as i am aware, has never been explored by europeans--for it remains a blank upon the most recent map issued by the french depot de la guerre--we were one evening, at a spot evidently pre-arranged, joined by a body of three hundred horsemen, who armed themselves with the rifles they obtained from our camel's packs, and then, leaving the camels in charge of half-a-dozen men in a rocky valley called the anzoua, we all continued our way in high spirits, jesting, laughing, and singing snatches of songs. throughout that night, and during the following day, we rode at the same steady pace, with only brief halts that were absolutely necessary. on the second night darkness fell swiftly, but the moon rose, and under its bright mystic light we sped forward, until suddenly the gaunt man, in a dirty, ragged burnouse, who acted as our guide, shouted, and we pulled up quickly. then, in the moonlight, i could just distinguish among the trees of the little oasis a few low, white houses, of what i subsequently learned was the little desert village of tilouat, inhabited by the kel-emoghri, and distant ten leagues from the town of ideles. abdul-melik shouted an order, clear and distinct, whereupon the horsemen spread themselves out in two long lines, and with their guns carried across their saddles, the first line crept slowly and silently forward. by this movement i knew that we were about to attack the village, and held my own rifle ready for purposes of self-defence. sitting in the second line, i advanced with the others, and the breathless moments that followed were full of excitement. suddenly a shot startled us, and at the same moment a muttered curse fell from the sheikh's lips as he saw that our presence had been detected, for the shot had been fired in the village as a sound of warning. almost instantly it was apparent that we had been betrayed, for a great body of horsemen galloped out to meet us, and in a few moments i found myself lying behind my horse pouring forth volley after volley from my rifle. the fusillade was deafening, and for fully half an hour it was kept up. about twenty of our men had been killed or wounded, when suddenly the first line rose with loud shouts as if they were one man, and, mounting, rode straight at their opponents, while we followed at headlong speed upon our enemies almost ere they had time to realise our intention. the melee was awful. swords, rifles, and keen, crooked _jambiyahs_ were used with terrible effect, but very soon all resistance was at an end, and the work of looting the village commenced. half demented by excitement and success, my companions entered the houses, shot down the women with relentless cruelty, tore from them what little jewellery they possessed, and plundered, wrecked, and burned their homes out of sheer delight in destruction. i stood watching the terrible scene, but unable to avert the great calamity that had fallen so swiftly upon the peaceful little place. the fiendishness of our enemies had, alas! not been exaggerated. abdul-melik laughed gleefully, uttering some words as he rode past me swift as the wind. but i heeded him not; i loathed, despised, and hated him. while dawn spread in rosy streaks, the work of plunder still proceeded, but when the sun shone forth, only the smoke-blackened walls of tilouat remained standing. the plunder was quickly packed upon our horses, and soon afterwards we rode off, carrying with us twenty men and women who had been captured, all of whom would eventually find their way into the great slave-market, far away at mourzouk. at sundown, five days afterwards, we descended into a rocky valley, and suddenly came upon a wonderful mass of scattered ruins, of amazing magnitude and extent, which abdul-melik told me were the remains of a forgotten city called tihodayen, and as we approached, i saw by the massive walls of hewn stone, the fallen columns half embedded in the sand, and by an inscription over an arched door, that they were relics of the roman occupation. when we dismounted, i found that the ruined city gave shelter to the outlaws, and was their habitual hiding-place. an hour later, reclining on mats under the wall of what had once been a great palace, the outlaw sheikh and myself ate our evening meal of _saubusaj, beryseh_, and _luzinyeh_, and drank copiously of _dushab_, that luscious date-syrup which is so acceptable after the heat and burden of the saharan day, while my companions feasted and made merry, for it appeared that they kept stores of food concealed there. on commencing to smoke, abdul-melik ordered that the captives should be brought before him, and when, a few minutes later, they were ushered into his presence, they, with one exception, fell upon their knees, grovelled, and cried aloud for mercy. the single captive who begged no favour was a young, dark-haired girl of exquisite beauty, with black, piercing eyes, pretty, dimpled cheeks, and a complexion of almost european fairness. she wore a zouave of crimson velvet heavily embroidered with gold, a heavy golden girdle confined her waist, and her wide trousers were of palest rose-pink silk, while her tiny feet were thrust into velvet slippers of green embroidered with gold thread. but her dress had been torn in the fierce struggle with her pitiless captors, and as she stood, erect and defiant, with her hands secured behind her with a leathern thong, she cast at us a glance full of withering scorn. the sheikh raised his hand to command silence, but as her fellow-captives continued wailing, he ordered the removal of all but this girl, who apparently set him at defiance. turning his keen eyes upon her, he noted how extremely handsome she was, and while she returned his gaze unflinchingly, her beauty held me in fascination. in all my journeys in the land of the sun i had never before seen such an absolutely perfect face. "who art thou?" demanded the dreaded chief, roughly. "what is thy name?" "i am called khadidja fathma, daughter of ali ben ushshami, cadi of ideles," she answered, in a firm, defiant tone. "ali ben ushshami!" echoed abdul-melik, knitting his brows fiercely. "thou art his daughter; the daughter of the accursed son of offal who endeavoured to betray me into the hands of the roumis," he cried, exultantly. "i have kindled the lights of knowledge at the flambeau of prophecy, and i vowed that i would ere many moons seek vengeance." "i have anticipated this thy wrath ever since thine horde of cowardly ruffians laid hands upon me," she answered, with a contemptuous toss of her pretty head. "but the daughter of the cadi of ideles craveth not mercy from a servant of eblis." "darest thou insult me, wench?" he cried, pale with passion, and starting up as if to strike her. "thou art the child of the man who would have given me into the hands of the spahis for the sake of the two bags of gold offered for my head. i will return his good offices by sending him to-morrow a present he will perhaps appreciate, the present of thine own hands. he will then be convinced that abdul-melik knoweth how to repay those who seek to injure him." "dost thou intend to strike off my hands?" she gasped, pale as death, nevertheless making a strenuous effort to remain calm. "at sunrise the vultures will feast upon thee, and thine hands will be on their way to ideles," he answered, with a sinister smile playing about his hard mouth. "malec hath already set his curse upon thee," she said, "and by each murder thou committest so thou createst for thyself a fresh torture in al-hawiyat, where thy food will be offal and thou wilt slake thy thirst with boiling pitch. true, i have fallen captive into thine hands, having journeyed to tilouat to see my father's mother who was dying; but thinkest thou that i fear thee? no!" she added with flashing eyes. "though the people dread thee as the great and powerful chief, i despise thee and all thy miserable parasites. if thou smitest off mine hands, it is but the same punishment as thou hast meted out to others of my sex. thou art, after all, a mere coward who maketh war upon women." "silence, jade!" he cried, in a tumult of passion, and, turning to the men beside him, commanded: "take her away, secure her alone till dawn, and then let her hands be struck off and brought to me." roughly the men dragged her away, but ere she went she cast at us a look of haughty scornfulness, and, shrugging her shoulders, treated this terrible mandate with ineffable disdain. "the jade's hands shall be sent to her father, the cadi, as a souvenir of the interest he taketh in my welfare," the sheikh muttered aloud. "her tongue will never again utter rebuke or insult. verily, allah hath delivered her into my hands a weapon to use against mine enemies." i uttered eager words of intercession, pointing out the cruelty of taking her young life, but he only laughed derisively, and i was compelled to sit beside him while the other captives were questioned and inspected. that night i sought repose in a shed that had been erected in a portion of the ruins, but found sleep impossible. the defiantly beautiful face of the young girl who was to die at dawn kept recurring to me with tantalising vividness, and at length i rose, determined if possible to save her. noiselessly i crept out, my footsteps muffled by the sand, saddled one of abdul-melik's own horses, and without attracting the notice of either sentry on duty at each end of the encampment, i entered the ruin where, confined to an iron ring in the masonry by a leathern band, she crouched silent and thoughtful. "_fi amani-illah_!" i whispered, as i approached. "i come to have speech with thee, and assist thee to escape." "art thou a friend?" she inquired, struggling to her feet and peering at me in the gloom. "yes, one who is determined that the outlaw's command shall never be executed," and taking the _jambiyah_ from my girdle, i severed the thongs that confined her hands and ankles, and next second she was free. briefly i explained how i had saddled a fleet horse and placed a saddle-bag with food upon it. "if i get safely away i shall owe my life to you," she said, with intense gratitude, pressing my hand for an instant to her quivering lips. "i know this place, and ere two moons can have risen i can travel through the rocky defile and be at my father's house in ideles. tell me thy name, so that my father may know who was his daughter's liberator." i told her, and in the same hasty breath asked for some souvenir. "alas! i have nothing," she answered; "nothing but a strange ornament which my father's mother gave to me immediately before she died, an hour previous to the attack being made upon the village," and placing her hand deep into the breast of her dress she drew forth a rough disc of copper, about the size of a crown piece, with a hole in it, as if it had been strung upon a thread. "when she gave it to me she told me it had been in her possession for years, that it was a talisman against terror, and that some curious legend was attached to it, the nature of which i do not now recollect. there is strange writing upon it in some foreign tongue of the roumis that no one has been able to decipher." i looked, but unable to detect anything in the darkness, i assured her that its possession would always remind me of her, and slipped it into the pocket of my gandoura. then together we crept along under the shadow of the wall, and, gaining the spot where the horse stood in readiness, i held her for a second while she kissed my hand, uttering a fervent word of thanks, and afterwards assisted her into the saddle. then a moment later, with a whispered "_allah iselemeck_!" she sped away, with her unbound hair flying behind her, and was instantly lost in the darkness. on realising that she had gone i was seized with regret, but feeling that at least i had saved her from a horrible doom, i returned to my little shed and, wrapping myself in my burnouse, slept soundly until the sun had risen high in the heavens. opening my eyes, i at once remembered khadidja's quaint souvenir, and on examining it, was astonished to find both obverse and reverse of the roughly fashioned disc covered with an inscription in english crudely engraved, or rather scratched, apparently with the point of a knife. investigating it closely i was enabled, after some difficulty, for i have only an elementary knowledge of the tongue of the roumis, to read the following surprising words:-- "_this record i leave for the person into whose hands it may fall, for i am starving. whosoever reads this let him hasten to zemnou, in the zelaf desert, two days from the well of el ameima, and from the bab-el-oued pace twenty steps westward outside the city wall, and under the second bastion let him dig. there will he be rewarded. john edward chatteris, held captive in the kasbah of borku by order of the sultan 'othman, sunday, june , _." chatteris! instantly it occurred to me that a celebrated english explorer, archaeologist, and member of the royal geographical society of that name, had years ago been lost, and his fate had remained a complete mystery. inquiries for news of him had been circulated throughout the great desert among the wandering tribes, with an offer of a reward. this, then, was a message inscribed, with apparent difficulty within the impregnable citadel of the warrior sultan of borku, whose little mountain kingdom was situate five hundred miles south of mourzouk, between the tibesti mountains and lake tsad; a secret that for half a century had been in the keeping of those who could not decipher it. what might not be buried at the spot indicated by this curious relic of the great traveller? my curiosity was excited to the utmost. impatient to investigate the truth, but compelled, nevertheless, to remain patient until such time as i could escape from my undesirable companions, i concealed the disc and rose to join abdul-melik at his morning meal. khadidja's escape caused the old outlaw intense chagrin, and his anger knew no bounds, but luckily no suspicion fell upon me, and having remained with them during two whole moons i succeeded one day, when we were near the town of rhat, in evading them and getting away. as quickly as possible i returned to in salah, where i exhibited the metal disc with its strange inscription to our three headmen, who became at once interested in it, announcing their intention to accompany me next day to investigate the truth of the engraved record. with an escort of twenty of our men, all well mounted and armed, we rode out of in salah at dawn, and for nine days continued our journey across the desert due eastward, first taking the caravan route to tarz oulli, beyond the french boundary, and continuing through the rocky region of the ihehaonen and across the djedid oasis, until one evening, at the _maghrib_ hour, the high white walls and three tall minarets of the desert city of zemnou came within view. it was unsafe to take our men nearer, therefore we returned and bivouacked until darkness set in. then, dressed in the haick and burnouse of the arab of the plain, the three headmen with myself, carrying spades concealed beneath our flowing drapery, approached the town and crept under the shadow of the walls, until we reached the bab-el-oued, or principal gate. guarded by strong watch-towers on either side, the gate was closed, and silently we crept, anxious and breathless, on over the sand westward until we had counted twenty paces and reached the second bastion. then, after glancing eagerly around to reassure ourselves that we were not observed, we all five commenced to dig beneath the wall. discovery, we knew, would mean death. the sand was loose, but full of stones, and for some time we worked without result. indeed, i began to fear that someone had already been able to decipher the record and obeyed its injunctions, when suddenly the spade of one of my companions struck something hard, and he uttered an ejaculation. with one accord we worked with a will, and within ten minutes were unearthing an object of extraordinary shape. at first it puzzled us considerably, but at length, when we had cleared the earth sufficiently to remove it, we made a cursory examination by the aid of wax tapers, and discovered that it was a kind of stool with a semi-circular seat, supported by six short columns of twisted gold in imitation of serpents, the seat itself being of gold inlaid with many precious stones, while the feet consisted of six great yellow topazes, beautifully cut and highly polished, held in the serpents' mouths. the gold had become dimmed by long contact with the earth, but the gems, as we rubbed off the dirt that clung to them, gleamed and sparkled in the tapers' fitful rays. the stool, or throne, was so heavy that it was with difficulty two men dragged it out of the trench, and breathless with anxiety we all lent a willing hand to carry it over the five miles of open desert to where the men were awaiting us. our arrival was greeted with cheers, but quickly the strange relic was wrapped in saddlebags and secured upon the back of a spare horse. at once we set out on the first stage of our return journey, reaching in salah in safety ten days later, and learning with satisfaction on our arrival that abdul-melik had, during our absence, been killed in a skirmish with the french spahis in the ahaggar. not until i had sent the jewelled seat to england, through an arab merchant whom i knew in algiers, and it was exhibited before a meeting of the royal geographical society, was i aware of its real antiquarian value. from the letters sent home by the intrepid dr chatteris, and still preserved in the archives of the society, it appeared that during salman, the great sheikh of aujila, assembled a formidable following, and proclaiming himself sultan of tunis, led an expedition through the country, extorting money from the people by reason of horrible tortures and fearful barbarities. while sentencing his unfortunate victims, he always used a curiously-shaped judgment-seat, which, for ages, had been the property of the sultans of sokoto, and it thus became known and dreaded as the throne of the great torture, it only being used on occasions when he sentenced the unfortunate wretches to torture for the purpose of extracting from them knowledge of where their wealth was concealed. against this fierce rebel the bey of tunis was compelled to send a great expedition, and after several sanguinary encounters at sinaun, and in the um-el-cheil, he was utterly routed and killed in his own stronghold at aujila. dr chatteris, in the last letter received from him, mentioned that he had secured the jewelled throne, but that on account of the superstitions of the arabs it was an extremely difficult matter to convey it to the coast. fearing lest he should lose it, he had apparently buried it, and soon afterwards unfortunately fell into the hands of the sultan of borku, who held him captive until his death. khadidja is still living in ideles, where she is happily married to the younger son of the governor, but in the seclusion of her harem she is still in ignorance that, by the curious little souvenir with which she rewarded me, she added to england's national collection of antiquities a valuable and highly interesting relic. visitors to the british museum will experience but little difficulty in finding it, for in the oriental section at the present moment one of the most frequently inspected and greatly admired treasures is the quaint, historic, and bejewelled throne of the great torture. the end. generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) white slavery in the barbary states. by charles sumner. ----mutato nomine, de te fabula narratur. horace and thinkest thou this, o man, that judgest them which do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the judgment of god? epistle to the romans, chap. ii. v. . boston: published by john p. jewett and company. cleveland, ohio: jewett, proctor, and worthington. london: low and company. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year , by john p. jewett and company, in the clerk's office of the district court of the district of massachusetts. original designs by billings. engraved by baker, smith, and andrew. stereotyped at the boston stereotype foundry. geo. c. rand, printer, cornhill. [illustration] white slavery in the barbary states. history has been sometimes called a gallery, where, in living forms, are preserved the scenes, the incidents, and the characters of the past. it may also be called the world's great charnel house, where are gathered coffins, dead men's bones, and all the uncleanness of the years that have fled. as we walk among its pictures, radiant with the inspiration of virtue and of freedom, we confess a new impulse to beneficent exertion. as we grope amidst the unsightly shapes that have been left without an epitaph, we may at least derive a fresh aversion to all their living representatives. in this mighty gallery, amidst a heavenly light, are the images of the benefactors of mankind--the poets who have sung the praise of virtue, the historians who have recorded its achievements, and the good men of all time, who, by word or deed, have striven for the welfare of others. here are depicted those scenes where the divinity of man has been made manifest in trial and danger. here also are those grand incidents which attended the establishment of the free institutions of the world; the signing of magna charta, with its priceless privileges of freedom, by a reluctant monarch; and the signing of the declaration of independence, the annunciation of the inalienable rights of man, by the fathers of our republic. on the other hand, in ignominious confusion, far down in this dark, dreary charnel house is tumbled all that now remains of the tyrants, the persecutors, the selfish men, under whom mankind have groaned. here also, in festering, loathsome decay, are the monstrous institutions or customs, which the earth, weary of their infamy and injustice, has refused to sustain--the helotism of sparta, the serfdom of christian europe, the ordeal by battle, and algerine slavery. from this charnel house let me to-night draw forth one of these. it may not be without profit to dwell on the _origin_, the _history_, and the _character_ of a custom, which, after being for a long time a byword and a hissing among the nations, has at last been driven from the world. the easy, instinctive, positive reprobation, which it will receive from all, must necessarily direct our judgment of other institutions, yet tolerated in equal defiance of justice and humanity. i propose to consider the subject of _white slavery in algiers_, or perhaps it might be more appropriately called _white slavery in the barbary states_. as algiers was its chief seat, it seems to have acquired a current name from that place. this i shall not disturb; though i shall speak of white slavery, or the slavery of christians, throughout the barbary states. if this subject should fail in interest, it cannot fail in novelty. i am not aware of any previous attempt to combine its scattered materials in a connected essay. [illustration] the territory now known as the barbary states is memorable in history. classical inscriptions, broken arches, and ancient tombs--the memorials of various ages--still bear instructive witness to the revolutions which it has encountered.[ ] early greek legend made it the home of terror and of happiness. here was the retreat of the gorgon, with snaky tresses, turning all she looked upon into stone; and here also the garden of the hesperides, with its apples of gold. it was the scene of adventure and mythology. here hercules wrestled with antæus, and atlas sustained, with weary shoulders, the overarching sky. phoenician fugitives early transported the spirit of commerce to its coasts; and carthage, which these wanderers here planted, became the mistress of the seas, the explorer of distant regions, the rival and the victim of rome. the energy and subtlety of jugurtha here baffled for a while the roman power, till at last the whole country, from egypt to the pillars of hercules, underwent the process of "annexation" to the cormorant republic of ancient times. a thriving population and fertile soil rendered it an immense granary. it was filled with famous cities, one of which was the refuge and the grave of cato, fleeing from the usurpations of cæsar. at a later day, christianity was here preached by some of her most saintly bishops. the torrent of the vandals, first wasting italy, next passed over this territory; and the arms of belisarius here obtained their most signal triumphs. the saracens, with the koran and the sword, potent ministers of conversion, next broke from arabia, as the messengers of a new religion, and, pouring along these shores, diffused the faith and doctrines of mohammed. their empire was not confined even by these expansive limits; but, under musa, entered spain, and afterwards at roncesvalles, in "dolorous rout," overthrew the embattled chivalry of the christian world led by charlemagne. [footnote : the classical student will be gratified and surprised by the remains of antiquity described by dr. shaw, english chaplain at algiers in the reign of george the first, in his _travels and observertions relating to several parts of barbary and the levant_, published in .] the saracenic power did not long retain its unity or importance; and, as we view this territory, in the dawn of modern history, when the countries of europe are appearing in their new nationalities, we discern five different communities or states,--morocco, algiers, tunis, tripoli, and barca,--the latter of little moment, and often included in tripoli, the whole constituting what was then, and is still, called the barbary states. this name has sometimes been referred to the berbers, or berebbers, constituting a part of the inhabitants; but i delight to follow the classic authority of gibbon, who thinks[ ] that the term, first applied by greek pride to all strangers, and finally reserved for those only who were savage or hostile, has justly settled, as a local denomination, along the northern coast of africa. the barbary states, then, bear their past character in their name. [footnote : decline and fall of the roman empire, vol. ix. chap. lvi. p. .] they occupy an important space on the earth's surface; on the north, washed by the mediterranean sea, furnishing such opportunities of prompt intercourse with southern europe, that cato was able to exhibit in the roman senate figs freshly plucked in the gardens of carthage; bounded on the east by egypt, on the west by the atlantic ocean, and on the south by the vast, indefinite, sandy, flinty wastes of sahara, separating them from soudan or negroland. in the advantages of position they surpass every other part of africa,--unless we except egypt,--communicating easily with the christian nations, and thus, as it were, touching the very hem and border of civilization. climate adds its attractions to this region, which is removed from the cold of the north and the burning heats of the tropics, while it is enriched with oranges, citrons, olives, figs, pomegranates, and luxuriant flowers. its position and character invite a singular and suggestive comparison. it is placed between the twenty-ninth and thirty-eighth degrees of north latitude, occupying nearly the same parallels with the slave states of our union. it extends over nearly the same number of degrees of longitude with our slave states, which seem now, alas! to stretch from the atlantic ocean to the rio grande. it is supposed to embrace about , square miles, which cannot be far from the space comprehended by what may be called the _barbary states of america_.[ ] nor does the comparison end here. algiers, for a long time the most obnoxious place in the barbary states of africa, the chief seat of christian slavery, and once branded by an indignant chronicler as "the wall of the barbarian world," is situated near the parallel of ° ' north latitude, being the line of what is termed the missouri compromise, marking the "wall" of christian slavery, in our country, west of the mississippi. [footnote : jefferson, without recognizing the general parallel, alludes to virginia as fast sinking to be "the _barbary_ of the union."--writings, vol. iv. p. .] [illustration] other less important points of likeness between the two territories may be observed. they are each washed, to the same extent, by ocean and sea; with this difference, that the two regions are thus exposed on directly opposite coasts--the african barbary being bounded in this way on the north and west, and our american barbary on the south and east. but there are no two spaces, on the surface of the globe, of equal extent, (and an examination of the map will verify what i am about to state,) which present so many distinctive features of resemblance; whether we consider the parallels of latitude on which they lie, the nature of their boundaries, their productions, their climate, or the "peculiar domestic institution" which has sought shelter in both. i introduce these comparisons in order to bring home to your minds, as near as possible, the precise position and character of the territory which was the seat of the evil i am about to describe. it might be worthy of inquiry, why christian slavery, banished at last from europe, banished also from that part of this hemisphere which corresponds in latitude to europe, should have intrenched itself, in both hemispheres, between the same parallels of latitude; so that virginia, carolina, mississippi, and texas should be the american complement to morocco, algiers, tripoli, and tunis. perhaps the common peculiarities of climate, breeding indolence, lassitude, and selfishness, may account for the insensibility to the claims of justice and humanity which have characterized both regions. the revolting custom of white slavery in the barbary states was, for many years, the shame of modern civilization. the nations of europe made constant efforts, continued through successive centuries, to procure its _abolition_, and also to rescue their subjects from its fearful doom. these may be traced in the diversified pages of history, and in the authentic memoirs of the times. literature also affords illustrations, which must not be neglected. at one period, the french, the italians, and the spaniards borrowed the plots of their stories mostly from this source.[ ] the adventures of robinson crusoe make our childhood familiar with one of its forms. among his early trials, he was piratically captured by a rover from salle, a port of morocco, on the atlantic ocean, and reduced to slavery. "at this surprising change of circumstances," he says, "from a merchant to a miserable slave, i was perfectly overwhelmed; and now i looked back upon my father's prophetic discourse to me, that i should be miserable, and have none to relieve me, which i thought was so effectually brought to pass, that i could not be worse." and cervantes, in the story of don quixote, over which so many generations have shaken with laughter, turns aside from its genial current to give the narrative of a spanish captive who had escaped from algiers. the author is supposed to have drawn from his own experience; for during five years and a half he endured the horrors of algerine slavery, from which he was finally liberated by a ransom of about six hundred dollars.[ ] this inconsiderable sum of money--less than the price of an intelligent african slave in our own southern states--gave to freedom, to his country, and to mankind the author of don quixote. [footnote : sismondi's literature of the south of europe, vol. iii. chap. , p. .] [footnote : the exact amount is left uncertain both by smollet and thomas roscoe in their lives of cervantes. it appears that it was five hundred gold crowns of spain, which, according to his spanish biographer, navarrete, is reals, (_vida de cervantes_, p. .) the real is supposed to be less than ten cents.] [illustration] in cervantes freedom gained a champion whose efforts entitle him to grateful mention, on this threshold of our inquiry. taught in the school of slavery, he knew how to commiserate the slave. the unhappy condition of his fellow-christians in chains was ever uppermost in his mind. he lost no opportunity of arousing his countrymen to attempts for their emancipation, and for the overthrow of the "peculiar institution"--pardon this returning phrase!--under which they groaned. he became in spain what, in our day and country, is sometimes called an "anti-slavery agitator"--not by public meetings and addresses, but, according to the genius of the age, mainly through the instrumentality of the theatre. not from the platform, but from the stage, did this liberated slave speak to the world. in a drama, entitled _el trato de argel_, or life in algiers,--which, though not composed according to the rules of art, yet found much favor, probably from its subject,--he pictured, shortly after his return to spain, the manifold humiliations, pains, and torments of slavery. this was followed by two others in the same spirit--_la gran sultana dona cattalina de oviedo_, the great sultana the lady cattalina of oviedo; and _los banos de argel_, the galleys of algiers. the last act of the latter closes with the statement, calculated to enlist the sympathies of an audience, that this play "is not drawn from the imagination, but was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very heart of truth." not content with this appeal through the theatre, cervantes, with constant zeal, takes up the same theme, in the tale of the captive, in don quixote, as we have already seen, and also in that of _el liberal amante_, the liberal lover, and in some parts of _la espanola inglesa_, the english spanishwoman. all these may be regarded, not merely as literary labors, but as charitable endeavors in behalf of human freedom. [illustration] and this same cause enlisted also a prolific contemporary genius, called by cervantes "that prodigy," lopé de vega, who commended it in a play entitled _los cautivos de argel_, the captives of algiers. at a later day, calderon, sometimes exalted as the shakspeare of the spanish stage, in one of his most remarkable dramas, _el principe constante_, the constant prince, cast a poet's glance at christian slavery in morocco. to these works--belonging to what may be called the literature of anti-slavery, and shedding upon our subject a grateful light--must be added a curious and learned volume, in spanish, on the topography and history of algiers, by haedo, a father of the catholic church,--_topografia y historia de argel por fra haedo_,--published in ; and containing also two copious dialogues--one on captivity (_de la captiudad_), and the other on the martyrs of algiers, (_de los martyres de argel_). these dialogues, besides embodying authentic sketches of the sufferings in algiers, form a mine of classical and patristic learning on the origin and character of slavery, with arguments and protestations against its iniquity, which may be explored with profit, even in our day. in view of this gigantic evil, particularly in algiers, and in the hope of arousing his countrymen to the generous work of emancipation, the good father exclaims,[ ] in words which will continue to thrill the soul,--so long as a single fetter binds a single slave,--"where is charity? where is the love of god? where is the zeal for his glory? where is desire for his service? where is human pity and the compassion of man for man? certainly to redeem a captive, to liberate him from wretched slavery, is the highest work of charity, of all that can be done in this world." [footnote : pp. , .] [illustration] not long after the dark experience of cervantes, another person, of another country and language, and of a still higher character, st. vincent de paul, of france, underwent the same cruel lot. happily for the world, he escaped from slavery, to commence at home that long career of charity--nobler than any glories of literature--signalized by various christian efforts, against duels, for peace, for the poor, and in every field of humanity--by which he is placed among the great names of christendom. princes and orators have lavished panegyrics upon this fugitive slave; and the catholic church, in homage to his extraordinary virtues, has introduced him into the company of saints. nor is he the only illustrious frenchman who has felt the yoke of slavery. almost within our own day, arago, the astronomer and philosopher,--devoted republican, i may add also,--while engaged, early in life, in those scientific labors, on the coast of the mediterranean, which made the beginning of his fame, fell a prey to algerine slave dealers. what science and the world have gained by his emancipation i need not say. thus science, literature, freedom, philanthropy, the catholic church, each and all, confess a debt to the liberated barbary slave. may they, on this occasion, as beneficent heralds, commend the story of his wrongs, his struggles, and his triumphs! [illustration] these preliminary remarks properly prepare the way for the subject to which i have invited your attention. in presenting it, i shall naturally be led to touch upon the _origin of slavery_, and the principles which lie at its foundation, before proceeding to exhibit the efforts for its abolition, and their final success in the barbary states. i. the word _slave_, suggesting now so much of human abasement, has an origin which speaks of human grandeur. its parent term, _slava_, signifying _glory_, in the slavonian dialects, where it first appears, was proudly assumed as the national designation of the races in the north-eastern part of the european continent, who, in the vicissitudes of war, were afterwards degraded from the condition of conquerors to that of servitude. the slavonian bondman, retaining his national name, was known as a _slave_, and this term--passing from a _race_ to a _class_--was afterwards applied, in the languages of modern europe, to all in his unhappy lot, without distinction of country or color.[ ] it would be difficult to mention any word which has played such opposite parts in history--now beneath the garb of servitude, concealing its early robes of pride. and yet, startling as it may seem, this word may properly be received in its primitive character, in our own day, by those among us who consider slavery essential to democratic institutions, and therefore a part of the true _glory_ of the country! [footnote : gibbon's roman empire, vol. x. chap. , p. .] slavery was universally recognized by the nations of antiquity. it is said by pliny, in a bold phrase, that the lacedæmonians "invented slavery."[ ] if this were so, the glory of lycurgus and leonidas would not compensate for such a blot upon their character. it is true that they recognized it, and gave it a shape of peculiar hardship. but slavery is older than sparta. it appears in the tents of abraham; for the three hundred and eighteen servants born to him were slaves. it appears in the story of joseph, who was sold by his brothers to the midianites for twenty pieces of silver.[ ] it appears in the poetry of homer, who stamps it with a reprobation which can never be forgotten, when he says,[ ]-- jove fixed it certain, that whatever day makes man a slave takes half his worth away. [footnote : nat. hist. lib. vii. c. .] [footnote : genesis xiv. ; ibid, xxxvii. . by these and other texts of the scriptures, slavery, and even the _slave trade_, have been vindicated. see bruce's travels in africa, vol. ii. p. . after quoting these texts, the complacent traveller says he "cannot think that purchasing slaves is either cruel or unnatural."] [footnote : odyssey, book xvii.] in later days it prevailed extensively in greece, whose haughty people deemed themselves justified in enslaving all who were strangers to their manners and institutions. "the greek has the right to be the master of the barbarian," was the sentiment of euripides, one of the first of her poets, which was echoed by aristotle, the greatest of her intellects.[ ] and even plato, in his imaginary republic, the utopia of his beautiful genius, sanctions slavery. but, notwithstanding these high names, we learn from aristotle himself that there were persons in his day--pestilent abolitionists of ancient athens--who did not hesitate to maintain that liberty was the great law of nature, and to deny any difference between the master and the slave; declaring openly that slavery was founded upon violence, and not upon right, and that the authority of the master was unnatural and unjust.[ ] "god sent forth all persons free; nature has made no man a slave," was the protest of one of these dissenting athenians against this great wrong. i am not in any way authorized to speak for any anti-slavery society, even if this were a proper occasion; but i presume that this ancient greek morality substantially embodies the principles which are maintained at their public meetings--so far, at least, as they relate to slavery. [footnote : pol. lib. i. c. .] [footnote : pol. lib. i. c. . in like spirit are the words of the good las casas, when pleading before charles the fifth for the indian races of america. "the christian religion," he said, "is equal in its operation, and is accommodated to every nation on the globe. _it robs no one of his freedom, violates none of his inherent rights, on the ground that he is a slave by nature, as pretended_; and it well becomes your majesty _to banish_ so monstrous an oppression from your kingdoms in the beginning of your reign, that the almighty may make it long and glorious."--prescott's _conquest of mexico_, vol. i. p .] it is true, most true, that slavery stands on force, and not on right. it is one of the hideous results of war, or of that barbarism in which savage war plays a conspicuous part. to the victor, it was supposed, belonged the lives of his captives; and, by consequence, he might bind them in perpetual servitude. this principle, which has been the foundation of slavery in all ages, is adapted only to the rudest conditions of society, and is wholly inconsistent with a period of real refinement, humanity, and justice. it is sad to confess that it was recognized by greece; but the civilization of this famed land, though brilliant to the external view as the immortal sculptures of the parthenon, was, like that stately temple, dark and cheerless within. [illustration] slavery extended, with new rigors, under the military dominion of rome. the spirit of freedom which animated the republic was of that selfish and intolerant character which accumulated privileges upon the roman citizen, while it heeded little the rights of others. but, unlike the greeks, the romans admitted in theory that all men were originally free by the law of nature; and they ascribed the power of masters over slaves not to any alleged diversities in the races of men, but to the will of society.[ ] the constant triumphs of their arms were signalized by reducing to captivity large crowds of the subjugated people. paulus emilius returned from macedonia with an uncounted train of slaves, composed of persons in every department of life; and at the camp of lucullus, in pontus, slaves were sold for four drachmæ, or seventy-two cents, a head. terence and phædrus, roman slaves, have, however, taught us that genius is not always quenched, even by a degrading captivity; while the writings of cato the censor, one of the most virtuous slaveholders in history, show the hardening influence of a system which treats human beings as cattle. "let the husbandman," says cato, "sell his old oxen, his sickly cattle, his sickly sheep, his wool, his hides, his old wagon, his old implements, _his old slave, and his diseased slave_; and if any thing else remains, let him sell it. _he should be a seller, rather than a buyer._"[ ] [footnote : institute i. tit. .] [footnote : re rustica, § .] the cruelty and inhumanity which flourished in the republic, professing freedom, found a natural home under the emperors--the high priests of despotism. wealth increased, and with it the multitude of slaves. some masters are said to have owned as many as ten thousand, while extravagant prices were often paid, according to the fancy or caprice of the purchaser. martial mentions a handsome youth who cost as much as four hundred sesteria, or sixteen thousand dollars.[ ] [footnote : ep. iii. .] [illustration] it is easy to believe that slavery, which prevailed so largely in greece and rome, must have existed in africa. here, indeed, it found a peculiar home. if we trace the progress of this unfortunate continent, from those distant days of fable, when jupiter did not disdain to grace the feast of Æthiopia's blameless race,[ ] the merchandise in slaves will be found to have contributed to the abolition of two hateful customs, once universal in africa--the eating of captives, and their sacrifice to idols. thus, in the march of civilization, even the barbarism of slavery is an important stage of human progress. it is a point in the ascending scale from cannibalism. [footnote : iliad, book i.] in the early periods of modern europe, slavery was a general custom, which yielded only gradually to the humane influences of christianity. it prevailed in all the countries of which we have any record. fair-haired saxon slaves from distant england arrested the attention of pope gregory in the markets of rome, and were by him hailed as _angels_. a law of so virtuous a king as alfred ranks slaves with horses and oxen; and the chronicles of william of malmesbury show that, in our mother country, there was once a cruel slave trade in whites. as we listen to this story, we shall be grateful again to that civilization which renders such outrages more and more impossible. "directly opposite," he says,[ ] "to the irish coast, there is a seaport called bristol, the inhabitants of which frequently sent into ireland to sell those people whom they had bought up throughout england. they exposed to sale maidens in a state of pregnancy, with whom they made a sort of mock _marriage_. there you might see with grief, fastened together by ropes, whole rows of wretched beings of both sexes, of elegant forms, and in the very bloom of youth,--a sight sufficient to excite pity even in barbarians,--daily offered for sale to the first purchaser. accursed deed! infamous disgrace! that men, acting in a manner which brutal instinct alone would have forbidden, should sell into slavery their relations, nay, even their own offspring." from still another chronicler[ ] we learn that, when ireland, in , was afflicted with public calamities, the people, but _chiefly the clergy, (præcipue clericorum,)_ began to reproach themselves, as well they might, believing that these evils were brought upon their country because, _contrary to the right of christian freedom_, they had bought as slaves the english boys brought to them by the merchants; wherefore, it is said, the english slaves were allowed to depart in freedom. [footnote : book ii. chap. , life of st. wolston.] [footnote : chronica hiberniæ, or the annals of phil. flatesbury in the cottonian library, domitian a. xviii. ; quoted in stephens on west india slavery, vol. i. p. ] [illustration] as late as the thirteenth century, the custom prevailed on the continent of europe to treat all captives, taken in war, as slaves. to this, poetry, as well as history, bears its testimony. old michael drayton, in his story of the battle of agincourt, says of the french,-- for knots of cord to every town they send, the captived english that they caught to bind; _for to perpetual slavery they intend those that alive they on the field should find._ and othello, in recounting his perils, exposes this custom, when he speaks of being taken by the insolent foe, _and sold to slavery_; of my redemption thence. it was also held lawful to enslave any infidel or person who did not receive the christian faith. the early common law of england doomed heretics to the stake; the catholic inquisition did the same; and the laws of oleron, the maritime code of the middle ages, treated them "as dogs," to be attacked and despoiled by all true believers. it appears that philip le bel of france, the son of st. louis, in , presented his brother charles, count of valois, with a _jew_, and that he paid pierre de chambly three hundred livres for another _jew_; as if jews were at the time chattels, to be given away, or bought.[ ] and the statutes of florence, boastful of freedom, as late as , expressly allowed republican citizens to hold slaves who were not of the christian faith; _qui non sunt catholicæ fidei et christianæ_.[ ] and still further, the comedies of molière, _l'Étourdi_, _le sicilien_, _l'avare_, depicting italian usages not remote from his own day, show that, at naples and messina, even christian women continued to be sold as slaves. [footnote : _encyclopédie méthodique_, (jurisprudence,) art. _esclavage_.] [footnote : biot, _de l'abolition de l'esclavage ancien en occident_, p. ; a work crowned with a gold medal by the institute of france, but which will be read with some disappointment.] this hasty sketch, which brings us down to the period when algiers became a terror to the christian nations, renders it no longer astonishing that the barbarous states of barbary,--a part of africa, the great womb of slavery,--professing mohammedanism, which not only recognizes slavery, but expressly ordains "chains and collars" to infidels,[ ] should maintain the traffic in slaves, particularly in christians who denied the faith of the prophet. in the duty of constant war upon unbelievers, and in the assertion of a right to the services or ransom of their captives, they followed the lessons of christians themselves. [footnote : koran, chap. .] [illustration] it is not difficult, then, to account for the origin of the cruel custom now under consideration. its _history_ forms our next topic. ii. the barbary states, after the decline of the arabian power, were enveloped in darkness, rendered more palpable by the increasing light among the christian nations. as we behold them in the fifteenth century, in the twilight of european civilization, they appear to be little more than scattered bands of robbers and pirates,--"the land rats and water rats" of shylock,--leading the lives of ishmaelites. algiers is described by an early writer as "a den of sturdy thieves, formed into a body, by which, after a tumultuary sort, they govern;"[ ] and by still another writer, contemporary with the monstrosity which he exposes, as "the theatre of all cruelty and sanctuarie of iniquitie, holding captive, in miserable servitude, one hundred and twenty thousand christians, almost all subjects of the king of spaine."[ ] their habit of enslaving prisoners, taken in war and in piratical depredations, at last aroused against these states the sacred animosities of christendom. ferdinand the catholic, after the conquest of granada, and while the boundless discoveries of columbus, giving to castile and aragon a new world, still occupied his mind, found time to direct an expedition into africa, under the military command of that great ecclesiastic, cardinal ximenes. it is recorded that this valiant soldier of the church, on effecting the conquest of oran, in , had the inexpressible satisfaction of liberating upwards of three hundred christian slaves.[ ] [footnote : harleian miscellany, vol. v. p. --_a discourse concerning tangiers._] [footnote : purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : prescott's history of ferdinand and isabella, vol. iii. p. ; purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. p. .] [illustration] the progress of the spanish arms induced the government of algiers to invoke assistance from abroad. at this time, two brothers, horuc and hayradin, the sons of a potter in the island of lesbos, had become famous as corsairs. in an age when the sword of the adventurer often carved a higher fortune than could be earned by lawful exertion, they were dreaded for their abilities, their hardihood, and their power. to them algiers turned for aid. the corsairs left the sea to sway the land; or rather, with amphibious robbery, they took possession of algiers and tunis, while they continued to prey upon the sea. the name of barbarossa, by which they are known to christians, is terrible in modern history.[ ] [footnote : robertson's charles the fifth, book v.; haedo, _historia de argel, epitome de los reyes, de argel_.] with pirate ships they infested the seas, and spread their ravages along the coasts of spain and italy, until charles the fifth was aroused to undertake their overthrow. the various strength of his broad dominions was rallied in this new crusade. "if the enthusiasm," says sismondi, "which armed the christians at an earlier day, was nearly extinct, another sentiment, more rational and legitimate, now united the vows of europe. the contest was no longer to reconquer the tomb of christ, but to defend the civilization, the liberty, the lives, of christians."[ ] a stanch body of infantry from germany, the veterans of spain and italy, the flower of the castilian nobility, the knights of malta, with a fleet of near five hundred vessels, contributed by italy, portugal, and even distant holland, under the command of andrew doria, the great sea officer of the age,--the whole being under the immediate eye of the emperor himself, with the countenance and benediction of the pope, and composing one of the most complete armaments which the world had then seen,--were directed upon tunis. barbarossa opposed them bravely, but with unequal forces. while slowly yielding to attack from without, his defeat was hastened by unexpected insurrection within. confined in the citadel were many christian slaves, who, asserting the rights of freedom, obtained a bloody emancipation, and turned its artillery against their former masters. the place yielded to the emperor, whose soldiers soon surrendered themselves to the inhuman excesses of war. the blood of thirty thousand innocent inhabitants reddened his victory. amidst these scenes of horror there was but one spectacle that afforded him any satisfaction. ten thousand christian slaves met him, as he entered the town, and falling on their knees, thanked him as their deliverer.[ ] [footnote : sismondi, _histoire des français_, tom. xvii. p. .] [footnote : robertson's charles the fifth, book v.] in the treaty of peace which ensued, it was expressly stipulated on the part of tunis, that all christian slaves, of whatever nation, should be set at liberty without ransom, and that no subject of the emperor should for the future be detained in slavery.[ ] [footnote : ibid.] [illustration] the apparent generosity of this undertaking, the magnificence with which it was conducted, and the success with which it was crowned, drew to the emperor the homage of his age beyond any other event of his reign. twenty thousand slaves, freed by treaty, or by arms, diffused through europe the praise of his name. it is probable that, in this expedition, the emperor was governed by motives little higher than those of vulgar ambition and fame; but the results with which it was crowned, in the emancipation of so many of his fellow-christians from cruel chains, place him, with cardinal ximenes, among the earliest abolitionists of modern times. this was in . only a few short years before, in , he had granted to a flemish courtier the exclusive privilege of importing four thousand blacks from africa into the west indies. it is said that charles lived long enough to repent what he had thus inconsiderately done.[ ] certain it is, no single concession, recorded in history, of king or emperor, has produced such disastrous far-reaching consequences. the fleming sold his privilege to a company of genoese merchants, who organized a _systematic_ traffic in slaves between africa and america. thus, while levying a mighty force to check the piracies of barbarossa, and to procure the abolition of christian slavery in tunis, the emperor, with a wretched inconsistency, laid the corner stone of a new system of slavery in america, in comparison with which the enormity that he sought to suppress was trivial and fugitive. [footnote : clarkson's history of the abolition of the slave trade, vol. i. p. .] elated by the conquest of tunis, filled also with the ambition of subduing all the barbary states, and of extirpating the custom of christian slavery, the emperor, in , directed an expedition of singular grandeur against algiers. the pope again joined his influence to the martial array. but nature proved stronger than the pope and emperor. within sight of algiers, a sudden storm shattered his proud fleet, and he was obliged to return to spain, discomfited, bearing none of those trophies of emancipation by which his former expedition had been crowned.[ ] [footnote : robertson's charles the fifth, book vi.; harleian miscellany, vol. iv. p. ;--a lamentable and piteous treatise, very necessarye for euerye christen manne to reade, [or the expedition of charles the fifth,] truly and dylygently translated out of latyn into frenche, and out of frenche into english, .] [illustration] the power of the barbary states was now at its height. their corsairs became the scourge of christendom, while their much-dreaded system of slavery assumed a front of new terrors. their ravages were not confined to the mediterranean. they penetrated the ocean, and pressed even to the straits of dover and st. george's channel. from the chalky cliffs of england, and even from the distant western coasts of ireland, unsuspecting inhabitants were swept into cruel captivity.[ ] the english government was aroused to efforts to check these atrocities. in , a fleet of eighteen ships, under the command of sir robert mansel, vice admiral of england, was despatched against algiers. it returned without being able, in the language of the times, "to destroy those hellish pirates," though it obtained the liberation of forty "poor captives, which they pretended was all they had in the towne." "the efforts of the english fleet were aided," says purchas, "by a christian captive, which did swim from the towne to the ships."[ ] it is not in this respect only that this expedition recalls that of charles the fifth, which received important assistance from rebel slaves; we also observe a similar deplorable inconsistency of conduct in the government which directed it. it was in the year ,--dear to all the descendants of the pilgrims of plymouth rock as an epoch of freedom,--while an english fleet was seeking the emancipation of englishmen held in bondage by algiers, that african slaves were first introduced into the english colonies of north america--thus beginning that dreadful system, whose long catalogue of humiliation and woes is not yet complete.[ ] [footnote : guizot's history of the english revolution, vol. i. p. , book ii.; strafford's letters and despatches, vol. i p. . sir george radcliffe, the friend and biographer of the earl, boasts that the latter "secured the seas from piracies, so as only one ship was lost at his first coming, [as lord lieutenant to ireland,] and no more all his time; whereof every year before, not only several ships and goods were lost by robbery at sea, but also turkish men-of-war usually landed, and _took prey of men to be made slaves_."--ibid. vol ii. p. .] [footnote : "purchas's pilgrims, pp. , ; southey's naval history of england, vol. v. pp. - . there was a publication especially relating to this expedition, entitled algiers voyage, in a journall or briefe repertory of all occurrents hapning in the fleet of ships sent out by the kinge his most excellent majestie, as well against the pirates of algiers as others. london. . to.] [footnote : bancroft's history of the united states, vol. i. p. .] [illustration] the expedition against algiers was followed, in , by another, under the command of captain rainsborough, against sallee, in morocco. at his approach, the moors desperately transferred a thousand captives, british subjects, to tunis and algiers. "some christians, that were slaves ashore, stole away out of the towne, and came swimming aboard."[ ] intestine feud also aided the fleet, and the cause of emancipation speedily triumphed. two hundred and ninety british captives were surrendered; and a promise was extorted from the government of sallee to redeem the wretched captives, sold away to tunis and algiers. an ambassador from the king of morocco shortly afterwards visited england, and, on his way through the streets of london, to his audience at court, was attended "by four barbary horses led along in rich caparisons, and richer saddles, with bridles set with stones; also some hawks; _many of the captives whom he brought over going along afoot clad in white_."[ ] [footnote : osborne's voyages--journal of the sallee fleet, vol. ii. p. . see also mrs. macaulay's history of england, vol. ii. chap. , p. .] [footnote : strafford's letter and despatches, vol. ii. pp. , , .] the importance attached to this achievement may be inferred from the singular joy with which it was hailed in england. though on a limited scale, it had been a _war of liberation_. the poet, the ecclesiastic, and the statesman now joined in congratulations on its results. it inspired the muse of waller to a poem called _the taking of sallee_, in which the submission of the slaveholding enemy is thus described:-- hither he sends the chief among his peers, who in his bark proportioned presents bears, to the renowned for piety and force _poor captives manumised_, and matchless horse. it satisfied laud, and filled with exultation the dark mind of strafford. "sallee, the town, is taken," said the archbishop in a letter to the latter, then in ireland, "and all the captives at sallee and morocco delivered; _as many, our merchants say, as, according to the price of the markets, come to ten thousand pounds, at least_."[ ] strafford saw in the popularity of this triumph a fresh opportunity to commend the tyrannical designs of his master, charles the first. "this action of sallee," he wrote in reply to the archbishop, "i assure you is full of honor, and should, methinks, _help much towards the ready cheerful payment of the shipping moneys_."[ ] [footnote : strafford's letters and despatches, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : ibid. p. .] [illustration] the coasts of england were now protected; but her subjects at sea continued the prey of algerine corsairs, who, according to the historian carte,[ ] now "carried their english captives to france, _drove them in chains overland to marseilles, to ship them thence with greater safety for slaves to algiers_." the increasing troubles, which distracted and finally cut short the reign of charles the first, could not divert attention from the sorrows of englishmen, victims to mohammedan slave drivers. at the height of the struggles between the king and parliament, an earnest voice was raised in behalf of these fellow-christians in bonds.[ ] waller, who was orator as well as poet, exclaimed in parliament, "by the many petitions which we receive from the wives of those miserable captives at algiers, (being between four and five thousand of our countrymen,) it does too evidently appear, that to make us slaves at home is not the way to keep us from being made slaves abroad." publications pleading their cause, bearing date in , , and , are yet extant.[ ] the overthrow of an oppression so justly odious formed a worthy object for the imperial energies of cromwell; and in ,--when, amidst the amazement of europe, the english sovereignty had already settled upon his atlantean shoulders,--he directed into the mediterranean a navy of thirty ships, under the command of admiral blake. this was the most powerful english force which had sailed into that sea since the crusades.[ ] its success was complete. "general blake," said one of the foreign agents of government, "has ratifyed the articles of peace at argier, and included therein scotch, irish, jarnsey, and garnsey-men, and all others the protector's subjects. he has lykewys redeemed from thence al such as wer captives ther. _several dutch captives swam aboard the fleet, and so escape theyr captivity._"[ ] tunis, as well as algiers, was humbled; all british captives were set at liberty; and the protector, in his remarkable speech at the opening of parliament in the next year, announced peace with the "profane" nations in that region.[ ] [footnote : carte's history of england, vol. iv. book xxii. p. .] [footnote : waller's works, p. .] [footnote : compassion towards captives, urged in three sermons, on heb. xiii. , by charles fitz-geoffrey, . libertas; or relief to the english captives in algiers, by henry robinson, london, . letters relating to the redemption of the captive in algiers, at tunis, by edward cason laud, . a relation of seven years' slavery under the turks of algiers, suffered by an english captive merchant, with a description of the sufferings of the miserable captives under that mercilest tyranny, by francis knight, london, . the last publication is preserved in the collection of voyages and travels by osborne, vol. ii. pp. - .] [footnote : hume says, (vol. vii. p. , chap, lxi.,) "no english fleet, except during the crusades, _had ever before sailed in those seas_." he forgot, or was not aware of the expedition of sir john mansel already mentioned, (_ante_, p. ,) which was elaborately debated in the privy council as early as , three years before it was finally undertaken, and which was the subject of a special work. see southey's naval history of england, vol. v. pp. - .] [footnote : thurloe's state papers, vol. iii. p. .] [footnote : carlyle's letters and speeches of cromwell, vol. ii. p. , part ix. speech v.] [illustration] to my mind no single circumstance gives a higher impression of the vigilance with which the protector guarded his subjects than this effort, to which waller, with the "smooth" line for which he is memorable, aptly alludes, as _telling dreadful news to all that piracy and rapine use_. his vigorous sway was followed by the effeminate tyranny of charles the second, whose restoration was inaugurated by an unsuccessful expedition against algiers under lord sandwich. this was soon followed by another, with a more favorable result, under admiral lawson.[ ] by a treaty bearing date may d, , the piratical government expressly stipulated, "that all subjects of the king of great britain, now slaves in algiers, or any of the territories thereof, be set at liberty, and released, upon paying the price they were first sold for in the market; and for the time to come no subjects of his majesty shall be bought or sold, or made slaves of, in algiers or its territories."[ ] other expeditions ensued, and other treaties in , , , and --showing, by their constant recurrence and iteration, the little impression produced upon those barbarians.[ ] insensible to justice and freedom, they naturally held in slight regard the obligations of fidelity to any stipulations in restraint of robbery and slaveholding. [footnote : rapin's history of england, vol. ii. pp. , .] [footnote : _recueil des traitez de paix_, tom. iv. p. .] [footnote : ibid. pp. , , , .] during a long succession of years, complaints of the sufferings of english captives continued to be made. an earnest spirit, in , found expression in these words:-- o, how can britain's sons regardless hear the prayers, sighs, groans (immortal infamy!) of fellow-britons, with oppression sunk, in bitterness of soul demanding aid, calling on britain, their dear native land, the land of liberty![ ] but during all this time, the slavery of blacks, transported to the colonies under the british flag, still continued. [footnote : the gentleman's magazine, vol. xviii. p. .] meanwhile, france had plied algiers with embassies and bombardments. in three hundred and forty-seven frenchmen were captives there. monsieur de sampson was despatched on an unsuccessful mission, to procure their liberation. they were offered to him "for the price they were sold for in the market;" but this he refused to pay.[ ] next came, in , monsieur de mantel, who was called "that noble captain, and glory of the french nation," "with fifteen of his king's ships, and a commission to enfranchise the french slaves." but he also returned, leaving his countrymen still in captivity.[ ] treaties followed at a later day, which were hastily concluded, and abruptly broken; till at last louis the fourteenth did for france what cromwell had done for england. in , algiers, being twice bombarded[ ] by his command, sent deputies to sue for peace, and to surrender all her christian slaves. tunis and tripoli made the same submission. voltaire, with his accustomed point, declares that, by this transaction, the french became respected on the coast of africa, where they had before been known only as slaves.[ ] [footnote : osborne's voyages, vol. ii. p. ; relation of seven years' slavery in algiers.] [footnote : ibid. p. .] [footnote : in the melancholy history of war, this is remarked as the earliest instance of the _bombardment_ of a town. sismondi, who never fails to regard the past in the light of humanity, says, that "louis the fourteenth was the first to put in practice the atrocious method, newly invented, of bombarding towns,--of burning them, not to take them, but to destroy them,--_of attacking, not fortifications, but private houses,--not soldiers, but peaceable inhabitants, women and children, and of confounding thousands of private crimes, each one of which would cause horror, in one great public crime, one great disaster, which he regarded only as one of the catastrophes of war_." sismondi, _histoire des français_, tom. xxv. p. . how much of this is justly applicable to the recent murder of women and children by the forces of the united states at vera cruz! algiers was bombarded in the cause of _freedom_; vera cruz to extend _slavery_!] [footnote : _siècle de louis xiv._ chap. .] an incident is mentioned by the historian, which unhappily shows how little the french at that time, even while engaged in securing the emancipation of their own countrymen, had at heart the cause of general freedom. as an officer of the triumphant fleet received the christian slaves who were brought to him and liberated, he observed among them many english, who, in the empty pride of nationality, maintained that they were set at liberty out of regard to the king of england. the frenchman at once summoned the algerines, and, returning the foolish captives into their hands, said, "these people pretend that they have been delivered in the name of their monarch; mine does not offer them his protection. i return them to you. it is for you to show what you owe to the king of england." the englishmen were again hurried to prolonged slavery. the power of charles the second was impotent in their behalf--as was the sense of justice and humanity in the french officer or in the algerine government. time would fail, even if materials were at hand, to develop the course of other efforts by france against the barbary states. nor can i dwell upon the determined conduct of holland, one of whose greatest naval commanders, admiral de ruyter, in , enforced at algiers the emancipation of several hundred christian slaves.[ ] the inconsistency, which we have so often remarked, occurs also in the conduct of france and holland. both these countries, while using their best endeavors for the freedom of their white people, were cruelly engaged in selling blacks into distant american slavery; as if every word of reprobation, which they fastened upon the piratical, slaveholding algerines, did not return in eternal judgment against themselves. [footnote : gentleman's magazine, vol. xviii. p. .] [illustration] thus far i have chiefly followed the history of military expeditions. war has been our melancholy burden. but peaceful measures were also employed to procure the _redemption_ of slaves; and money sometimes accomplished what was vainly attempted by the sword. in furtherance of this object, missions were often sent by the european governments. these sometimes had a formal diplomatic organization; sometimes they consisted of fathers of the church, who held it a sacred office, to which they were especially called, to open the prison doors, and let the captives go free.[ ] it was through the intervention of the superiors of the order of the holy trinity, who were despatched to algiers by philip the second of spain, that cervantes obtained his freedom by ransom, in .[ ] expeditions of commerce often served to promote similar designs of charity; and the english government, forgetting or distrusting all their sleeping thunder, sometimes condescended to barter articles of merchandise for the liberty of their subjects.[ ] [footnote : to the relations of these missions we are indebted for works of interest on the barbary states, some of which i am able to mention. _busnot, histoire du règne de mouley ishmael, à rouen, ._ this is by a father of the holy trinity. _jean de la faye, relation, en forme de journal, du voyage pour la rédemption des captifs, à paris, ._ _voyage to barbary for the redemption of captives in , by the mathurin-trinitarian fathers, london, ._ the last is a translation from the french. _braithwaite's history of the revolutions of the empire of morocco, london, ._ this contains a journal of the mission of john russel, esq., from the english government to morocco, to obtain the liberation of slaves. the expedition was thoroughly equipped. "the moors," says the author, "find plenty of every thing but drink, but for that the english generally take care of themselves; for, besides chairs, tables, knives, forks, plates, table linen, &c., we had two or three mules, loaded with wine, brandy, sugar, and utensils for punch."--p. .] [footnote : roscoe's life of cervantes, p. .] [footnote : "the following goods, designed as a present from his majesty to the dey of algiers, to redeem near one hundred english captives lately taken, were entered at the customhouse, viz.: pieces of broadcloth, pieces of brocade, pieces of silver tabby, piece of green damask, pieces of holland, pieces of cambric, a gold repeating watch, silver do., pounds of tea, of loaf sugar, fuzees, pair of pistols, an escritoire, clocks, and a box of toys."--_gent. mag._, iv. p. , ( .)] [illustration] private efforts often secured the freedom of slaves. friends at home naturally exerted themselves in their behalf; and many families were straitened by generous contributions to this sacred purpose. the widowed mother of cervantes sacrificed all the pittance that remained to her, including the dowry of her daughters, to aid in the emancipation of her son. an englishman, of whose doleful captivity there is a record in the memoirs of his son, obtained redemption through the earnest efforts of his wife at home. "she resolved," says the story, "to use all the means that lay in her power for his freedom, though she left nothing for herself and children to subsist upon. she was forced to put to sale, as she did, some plate, gold rings and bracelets, and some part of her household goods to make up his ransom, which came to about £ sterling."[ ] in , four french brothers were ransomed at the price of six thousand dollars. at this same period, the sum exacted for the poorest spaniards was "a thousand shillings;" while genoese, "if under twenty-two years of age, were freed for a hundred pounds sterling."[ ] these charitable endeavors were aided by the cooperation of benevolent persons. george fox interceded in behalf of several quakers, slaves at algiers, writing "a book to the grand sultan and the king at algiers, wherein he laid before them their indecent behavior and unreasonable dealings, showing them from their alcoran that this displeased god, and that mohammed had given them other directions." some time elapsed before an opportunity was found to redeem them; "but, in the mean while, they so faithfully served their masters, that they were suffered to go loose through the town, without being chained or fettered."[ ] [footnote : ms. memoirs of abraham brown.] [footnote : osborne's voyages, vol. ii. p. ; relation of seven years' slavery in algiers.] [footnote : sewell's history of the quakers, p. .] [illustration] as early as the thirteenth century, under the sanction of pope innocent the third, an important association was organized to promote the emancipation of christian slaves. this was known as the _society of the fathers of redemption_.[ ] during many successive generations its blessed labors were continued, amidst the praise and sympathy of generous men. history, undertaking to recount its origin, and filled with a grateful sense of its extraordinary merits, attributed it to the suggestion of an angel in the sky, clothed in resplendent light, holding a christian captive in his right hand, and a moor in the left. the pious spaniard, who narrates the marvel, earnestly declares that this institution of beneficence was the work, not of men, but of the great god alone; and he dwells, with more than the warmth of narrative, on the glory, filling the lives of its associates, as surpassing far that of a roman triumph; for they share the name as well as the labors of the redeemer of the world, to whose spirit they are the heirs, and to whose works they are the successors. "lucullus," he says, "affirmed that it were better to liberate a single roman from the hands of the enemy than to gain all their wealth; but how much greater the gain, more excellent the glory, and more than human is it to redeem a captive! for whosoever redeems him not only liberates him from one death, but from death in a thousand ways, and those ever present, and also from a thousand afflictions, a thousand miseries, a thousand torments and fearful travails, more cruel than death itself."[ ] the genius of cervantes has left a record of his gratitude to this anti-slavery society[ ]--the harbinger of others whose mission is not yet finished. throughout spain annual contributions for its sacred objects continued to be taken for many years. nor in spain only did it awaken sympathy. in italy and france also it successfully labored; and as late as , inspired by a similar catholic spirit, if not by its example, a proposition appeared in england "to establish a _society_ to carry on the truly charitable design of emancipating" sixty-four englishmen, slaves in morocco.[ ] [footnote : biot, _de l'abolition de l'esclavage ancien_, p. .] [footnote : haedo, _historia de argel_, pp. - ; _dialogo i. de la captiudad_.] [footnote : roscoe's life of cervantes, p. . see his story of _española inglesa_.] [footnote : gentleman's mag. xviii. p. .] war and ransom were not the only agents of emancipation. even if history were silent, it would be impossible to suppose that the slaves of african barbary endured their lot without struggles for freedom. since the first moment they put on my chains, i've thought on nothing but the weight of them, and how to throw them off. these are the words of a slave in the play;[ ] but they express the natural inborn sentiments of all who have intelligence sufficient to appreciate the great boon of freedom. "thanks be to god," says the captive in don quixote, "for the great mercies bestowed upon me; for, in my opinion, there is no happiness on earth equal to that of liberty regained."[ ] and plain thomas phelps--once a slave at machiness, in morocco, whence, in , he fortunately escaped--in the narrative of his adventures and sufferings, breaks forth in a similar strain. "since my escape," he says, "from captivity, and worse than egyptian bondage, i have, methinks, enjoyed a happiness with which my former life was never acquainted; now that, after a storm and terrible tempest, i have, by miracle, put into a safe and quiet harbor,--after a most miserable slavery to the most unreasonable and barbarous of men, now that i enjoy the immunities and freedom of my native country and the privileges of a subject of england, although my circumstances otherwise are but indifferent, yet i find i am affected with extraordinary emotions and singular transports of joy; now i know what liberty is, and can put a value and make a just estimate of that happiness which before i never well understood. health can be but slightly esteemed by him who never was acquainted with pain or sickness; and liberty and freedom are the happiness only valuable by a reflection on captivity and slavery."[ ] [footnote : oronooko, act iii. sc. i. it is not strange that the anti-slavery character of this play rendered it an unpopular performance at liverpool, while the prosperous merchants there were concerned in the slave trade.] [footnote : don quixote, part i. book iv. chap. .] [footnote : osborne's voyages, vol. ii. p. .] the history of algiers abounds in well-authenticated examples of _conspiracy against the government_ by christian slaves. so strong was the passion for freedom! in and , two separate plans were matured, which promised for a while entire success. the slaves were numerous; keys to open the prisons had been forged, and arms supplied; but, by the treason of one of their number, the plot was betrayed to the dey, who sternly doomed the conspirators to the bastinado and the stake. cervantes, during his captivity, nothing daunted by these disappointed efforts, and the terrible vengeance which awaited them, conceived the plan of a general insurrection of the christian slaves, to secure their freedom by the overthrow of the algerine power, and the surrender of the city to the spanish crown. this was in the spirit of that sentiment, to which he gives utterance in his writings, that "for liberty we ought to risk life itself, slavery being the greatest evil that can fall to the lot of man."[ ] as late as , there was a similar insurrection or conspiracy. "last month," says a journal of high authority,[ ] "the christian slaves at algiers, to the number of four thousand, rose and killed their guards, and massacred all who came in their way; but after some hours' carnage, during which the streets ran with blood, peace was restored." [footnote : roscoe's life of cervantes, pp. , , . in the same spirit thomas phelps says: "i looked upon my condition as desperate; my forlorn and languishing state of life, without any hope of redemption, appeared far worse than the terrors of a most cruel death."--osborne's voyages, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : british annual register, vol. vi. p. .] but the struggles for freedom could not always assume the shape of conspiracies against the government. they were often _efforts to escape_, sometimes in numbers, and sometimes singly. the captivity of cervantes was filled with such, in which, though constantly balked, he persevered with determined courage and skill. on one occasion, he attempted to escape by land to oran, a spanish settlement on the coast, but was deserted by his guide, and compelled to return.[ ] another endeavor was favored by a number of his own countrymen, hovering on the coast in a vessel from majorca, who did not think it wrong to aid in the liberation of slaves! another was promoted by christian merchants at algiers, through whose agency a vessel was actually purchased for this purpose.[ ] and still another was supposed to be aided by a spanish ecclesiastic, father olivar, who, being at algiers to procure the legal emancipation of slaves, could not resist the temptation to lend a generous assistance to the struggles of his fellow-christians in bonds. if he were sufficiently courageous and devoted to do this, he paid the bitter penalty which similar services to freedom have found elsewhere, and in another age. he was seized by the dey, and thrown into chains; for it was regarded by the algerine government as a high offence to further in any way the escape of a slave.[ ] [footnote : el trato de argel.] [footnote : roscoe's life of cervantes, pp. , , . i refer to roscoe as the popular authority. his work appears to be little more than a compilation from navarrete and sismondi.] [footnote : ibid. p. . see also haedo, _historia de argel_, p. .] [illustration] endeavors for freedom are animating; nor can any honest nature hear of them without a throb of sympathy. as we dwell on the painful narrative of the unequal contest between tyrannical power and the crushed captive or slave, we resolutely enter the lists on the side of freedom; and as we behold the contest waged by a few individuals, or, perhaps, by one alone, our sympathy is given to his weakness as well as to his cause. to him we send the unfaltering succor of our good wishes. for him we invoke vigor of arm to defend, and fleetness of foot to escape. the enactments of human laws are vain to restrain the warm tides of the heart. we pause with rapture on those historic scenes, in which freedom has been attempted or preserved through the magnanimous self-sacrifice of friendship or christian aid. with palpitating bosom we follow the midnight flight of mary of scotland from the custody of her stern jailers; we accompany the escape of grotius from prison in holland, so adroitly promoted by his wife; we join with the flight of lavalette in france, aided also by his wife; and we offer our admiration and gratitude to huger and bollman, who, unawed by the arbitrary ordinances of austria, strove heroically, though vainly, to rescue lafayette from the dungeons of olmutz. the laws of algiers--which sanctioned a cruel slavery, and doomed to condign penalties all endeavors for freedom, and all countenance of such endeavors--can no longer prevent our homage to cervantes, not less gallant than renowned, who strove so constantly and earnestly to escape his chains; nor our homage to those christians also who did not fear to aid him, and to the good ecclesiastic who suffered in his cause. the story of the efforts to escape from slavery in the barbary states, so far as they can be traced, are full of interest. the following is in the exact words of an early writer:-- "one john fox, an expert mariner, and a good, approved, and sufficient gunner, was (in the raigne of queene elizabeth) taken by the turkes, and kept eighteen yeeres in most miserable bondage and slavery; at the end of which time, he espied his opportunity (and god assisting him withall) that hee slew his keeper, and fled to the sea's side, where he found a gally with one hundred and fifty captive christians, which hee speedily waying their anchor, set saile, and fell to work like men, and safely arrived in spaone; by which meanes he freed himselfe and a number of poor soules from long and intolerable servitude; after which, the said john fox came into england, _and the queene (being rightly informed of his brave exploit) did graciously entertaine him for her servant, and allowed him a yeerly pension_."[ ] [footnote : purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. p. .] [illustration] there is also, in the same early source, a quaint description of what occurred to a ship from bristol, captured, in , by an algerine corsair. the englishmen were all taken out except four youths, over whom the turks, as these barbarians were often called by early writers, put thirteen of their own men to conduct the ship as a prize to algiers; and one of the pirates, a strong, able, stern, and resolute person, was appointed captain. "these four poor youths," so the story proceeds, "being thus fallen into the hands of merciless infidels, began to study and complot all the means they could for the obtayning of their freedom. they considered the lamentable and miserable estates that they were like to be in, as to be debarred forever from seeing their friends and country, to be chained, beaten, made slaves, and to eat the bread of affliction in the galleys, all the remainder of their unfortunate lives, and, which was worst of all, never to be partakers of the heavenly word and sacraments. thus, being quite hopeless, and, for any thing they knew, forever helpless, they sailed five days and nights under the command of the pirates, when, on the fifth night, god, in his great mercy, showed them a means for their wished-for escape." a sudden wind arose, when, the captain coming to help take in the mainsail, two of the english youths "suddenly took him by the breech and threw him overboard; but, by fortune, he fell into the bunt of the sail, where, quickly catching hold of a rope, he, being a very strong man, had almost gotten into the ship again; which john cook perceiving, leaped speedily to the pump, and took off the pump brake, or handle, and cast it to william long, bidding him knock him down, which he was not long in doing, but, lifting up the wooden weapon, he gave him such a palt on the pate, as made his braines forsake the possession of his head, with which his body fell into the sea." the corsair slave dealers were overpowered. the four english youths drove them "from place to place in the ship, and having coursed them from poop to the forecastle, they there valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a dangerous wound or two, who, to escape the further fury of their swords, leaped suddenly overboard to go seek his captain." the other nine turks ran between decks, where they were securely fastened. the english now directed their course to st. lucas, in spain, and "in short time, by god's ayde, happily and safely arrived at the said port, _where they sold the nine turks for galley slaves, for a good summe of money, and as i thinke, a great deal more than they were worth_."[ ] "he that shall attribute such things as these," says the ancient historian, grateful for this triumph of freedom, "to the arm of flesh and blood, is forgetful, ungrateful, and, in a manner, atheistical." [footnote : purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. pp. - .] [illustration] from the same authority i draw another narrative of singular success in achieving freedom. several englishmen, being captured and carried into algiers, were sold as slaves. these are the words of one of their number: "_we were hurried like dogs into the market, where, as men sell hacknies in england, we were tossed up and down to see who would give most for us; and although we had heavy hearts, and looked with sad countenances, yet many came to behold us, sometimes taking us by the hand, sometimes turning us round about, sometimes feeling our brawny and naked armes, and so beholding our prices written in our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly, and at last we were all sold._" shortly afterwards several were put on board an algerine corsair to serve as slaves. one of them, john rawlins, who resembled cervantes in the hardihood of his exertions for freedom,--as, like him, he had lost the use of an arm,--arranged a rising or insurrection on board. "o hellish slavery," he said, "to be thus subject to dogs! o god! strengthen my heart and hand, and something shall be done to ease us of these mischiefs, and deliver us from these cruel mohammedan dogs. what can be worse? i will either attempt my deliverance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise." an auspicious moment was seized; and eight english slaves and one french, with the assistance of four hollanders, freemen, succeeded, after a bloody contest, in overpowering fifty-two turks. "when all was done," the story proceeds, "and the ship cleared of the dead bodies, rawlins assembled his men together, and with one consent gave the praise unto god, using the accustomed service on shipboard, and, for want of books, lifted up their voices to god, as he put into their hearts or renewed their memories; then did they sing a psalm, and, last of all, embraced one another for playing the men in such a deliverance, whereby our fear was turned into joy, and trembling hearts exhilarated that we had escaped such inevitable dangers, and especially the slavery and terror of bondage worse than death itself. the same night we washed our ship, put every thing in as good order as we could, repaired the broken quarter, set up the biticle, and bore up the helme for england, where, by god's grace and good guiding, we arrived at plimouth, february th, ."[ ] [footnote : purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. pp. - .] [illustration] in , thomas phelps and edward baxter, englishmen, accomplished their escape from captivity in machiness, in morocco. one of them had made a previous unsuccessful attempt, which drew upon him the punishment of the bastinado, disabling him from work for a twelvemonth; "but such was his love of christian liberty, that he freely declared to his companion, that he would adventure with any fair opportunity." by devious paths, journeying in the darkness of night, and by day sheltering themselves from observation in bushes, or in the branches of fig trees, they at length reached the sea. with imminent risk of discovery, they succeeded in finding a boat, not far from sallee. this they took without consulting the proprietor, and rowed to a ship at a distance, which, to their great joy, proved to be an english man-of-war. making known to its commander the exposed situation of the moorish ships, they formed part of an expedition in boats, which boarded and burned them, in the night. "one moor," says the account, "we found aboard, who was presently cut in pieces; another was shot in the head, endeavoring to escape upon the cable; we were not long in taking in our shavings and tar barrels, and so set her on fire in several places, she being very apt to receive what we designed; for there were several barrels of tar upon deck, and she was newly tarred, as if on purpose. whilst we were setting her on fire, we heard a noise of some people in the hold; we opened the scuttles, and thereby saved the lives of four christians, three dutchmen and one french, who told us the ship on fire was admiral, and belonged to aly-hackum, and the other, which we soon after served with the same sauce, was the very ship which in october last took me captive." the englishman, once a captive, who tells this story, says it is "most especially to move pity for the afflictions of joseph, to excite compassionate regard to those poor countrymen now languishing in misery and irons, to endeavor their releasement."[ ] [footnote : osborne's voyages, vol. ii. pp. - .] even the non-resistance of quakers, animated by a zeal for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave dealers. a ship in the charge of people of this sect became the prey of the algerines; and the curious story is told with details, unnecessary to mention here, of the effective manner in which the ship was subsequently recaptured by the crew without loss of life. to complete this triumph, the slave pirates were safely landed on their own shores, and allowed to go their way in peace, acknowledging with astonishment and gratitude this new application of the christian injunction to do good to them that hate you. charles the second, learning from the master, on his return, that "he had been taken by the turks, and redeemed himself without fighting," and that he had subsequently let his enemies go free, rebuked him, saying, with the spirit of a slave dealer, "you have done like a fool, for you might have had a good gain for them." and to the mate he said, "you should have brought the turks to me." "_i thought it better for them to be in their own country_" was the quaker's reply.[ ] [footnote : sewell's history of the quakers, pp. - .] [illustration] in the current of time other instances occurred. a letter from algiers, dated august , , and preserved in the british annual register, furnishes the following story:[ ] "a most remarkable escape," it says, "of some christian prisoners has lately been effected here, which will undoubtedly cause those that have not had that good fortune to be treated with utmost rigor. on the morning of the th july, the dey was informed that all the christian slaves had escaped the over-night in a galley; this news soon raised him, and, upon inquiry, it was found to have been a preconcerted plan. about ten at night, seventy-four slaves, who had found means to escape from their masters, met in a large square near the gate which opens to the harbor, and, being well armed, they soon forced the guard to submit, and, to prevent their raising the city, confined them all in the powder magazine. they then proceeded to the lower part of the harbor, where they embarked on board a large rowing polacre that was left there for the purpose, and, the tide ebbing out, they fell gently down with it, and passed both the forts. as soon as this was known, three large galleys were ordered out after them, but to no purpose. they returned in three days, with the news of seeing the polacre sail into barcelona, where the galleys durst not go to attack her." [footnote : vol. xv. p. .] [illustration] in the same journal[ ] there is a record of another triumph of freedom in a letter from palma, the capital of majorca, dated september , . "forty-six captives," it says, "who were employed to draw stones from a quarry some leagues' distance from algiers, at a place named genova, resolved, if possible, to recover their liberty, and yesterday took advantage of the idleness and inattention of forty men who were to guard them, and who had laid down their arms, and were rambling about the shore. the captives attacked them with pickaxes and other tools, and made themselves masters of their arms; and, having killed thirty-three of the forty, and eleven of the thirteen sailors who were in the boat which carried the stones, they obliged the rest to jump into the sea. being then masters of the boat, and armed with twelve muskets, two pistols, and powder, they set sail, and had the good fortune to arrive here this morning, where they are performing quarantine. sixteen of them are spaniards, seventeen french, eight portuguese, three italian, one a german, and one a sardinian." [footnote : vol. xix. p. .] thus far i have followed the efforts of european nations, and the struggles of europeans, unhappy victims to white slavery. i pass now to america, and to our own country. in the name of fellow-countryman there is a charm of peculiar power. the story of his sorrows will come nearer to our hearts, and, perhaps, to the experience of individuals or families among us, than the story of spaniards, frenchmen, or englishmen. nor are materials wanting. even in the early days of the colonies, while they were yet contending with the savage indians, many american families were compelled to mourn the hapless fate of brothers, fathers, and husbands doomed to slavery in distant african barbary. only five short years after the landing of the pilgrims at plymouth rock,[ ] it appears from the records of the town, under date of , that "two ships, freighted from plymouth, were taken by the turks in the english channel, and carried into sallee." a little later, in , "one austin, a man of good estate," returning discontented to england from quinipiack, now new haven, on his way "was taken by the turks, and his wife and family were carried to algiers, and sold there as slaves."[ ] and, under date of , in the diary of the rev. john eliot, the first minister of roxbury, and the illustrious apostle to the indians, prefixed to the record of the church in that town, and still preserved in manuscript, these few words tell a story of sorrow: "we heard the sad and heavy tidings concerning the captivity of captain foster and his son at sallee." from further entries in the diary it appears, that, after a bondage of three years, they were redeemed. but the same record shows other victims, for whom the sympathies of the church and neighborhood were enlisted. here is one: " m. . this sabbath we had a public collection for edward howard of boston, to redeem him out of his sad turkish captivity, in which collection was gathered £ s. d., which, by god's favor, made up the just sum desired." and not long after, at a date left uncertain, it appears that william bowen "was taken by the turks;" a contribution was made for his redemption; "and the people went to the public box, young and old, but before the money could answer the end for which the congregation intended it," tidings came of the death of the unhappy captive, and the money was afterwards "improved to build a tomb for the town to inter their ministers."[ ] [footnote : davis's extracts relating to plymouth, p. .] [footnote : winthrop's journal, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : ms. records of first church in roxbury, massachusetts.] instances now thicken. a ship, sailing from charlestown, in , was taken by a corsair, and carried into algiers, whence its passengers and crew never returned. they probably died in slavery. among these was dr. daniel mason, a graduate of harvard college, and the earliest of that name on the list; also james ellson, the mate. the latter, in a testamentary letter addressed to his wife, and dated at algiers, june , , desired her to redeem out of captivity two of his companions.[ ] at the same period william harris, a person of consequence in the colony, one of the associates of roger williams in the first planting of providence, and now in the sixty-eighth year of his age, sailing from boston for england on public business, was also taken by a corsair, and carried into algiers. on the d february, , this veteran,--older than the slaveholder cato when he learned greek,--together with all the crew, was sold into slavery. the fate of his companions is unknown; but mr. harris, after remaining in this condition more than a year, obtained his freedom at the cost of $ , called by him "the price of a good farm." the feelings of the people of the colony, touched by these disasters, are concisely expressed in a private letter dated at boston, new england, november , , where it is said, "the turks have so taken our new england ships richly loaden homeward bound, that it is very dangerous to goe. many of our neighbors are now in captivity in argeer. the lord find out some way for their redemption."[ ] [footnote : middlesex [massachusetts] probate files in ms.] [footnote : william gilbert to arthur bridge, ms.] still later, as we enter the next century, we meet a curious notice of the captivity of a bostonian. under date of tuesday, january , , chief justice samuel sewell, in his journal, after describing a dinner with mr. gee, and mentioning the guests, among whom were the famous divines, increase and cotton mather, adds, "it seems it was in remembrance of his landing this day at boston, after his algerine captivity. had a good treat. dr. cotton mather, in returning thanks, very well comprised many weighty things very pertinently."[ ] among the many weighty things very pertinently comprised by this eminent preacher, in returning thanks, it is hoped, was a condemnation of slavery. surely he could not then have shrunk from giving utterance to that faith which preaches deliverance to the captive. [footnote : ms. journal of chief justice samuel sewell.] but leaving the imperfect records of colonial days, i descend at once to that period, almost in the light of these times, when our national government, justly careful of the liberty of its white citizens, was aroused to put forth all its power in their behalf. the war of the revolution closed in , by the acknowledgment of the independence of the united states. the new national flag, then freshly unfurled, and hardly known to the world, seemed to have little power to protect persons or property from the outrages of the barbary states. within three years, no less than ten american vessels became their prey. at one time an apprehension prevailed, that dr. franklin had been captured. "we are waiting," said one of his french correspondents, "with the greatest patience to hear from you. the newspapers have given us anxiety on your account; for some of them insist that you have been taken by the algerines, while others pretend that you are at morocco, enduring your slavery with all the patience of a philosopher."[ ] the property of our merchants was sacrificed or endangered. insurance at lloyd's, in london, could be had only at advanced prices; while it was difficult to obtain freight for american bottoms.[ ] the mediterranean trade seemed closed to our enterprise. to a people filled with the spirit of commerce, and bursting with new life, this in itself was disheartening; but the sufferings of our unhappy fellow-citizens, captives in a distant land, aroused a feeling of a higher strain. [footnote : sparks's works of franklin, ix. , ; x. . m. le veillard to dr. franklin, october , .] [footnote : boston independent chronicle, april , , vol. xvii. no. ; may , , no. ; oct. , , no. ; nov. , , no. ; nov. , , no. ; march , , vol. xviii. no. ; april , , no. .] as from time to time the tidings of these things reached america, a voice of horror and indignation swelled through the land. the slave corsairs of african barbary were branded sometimes as "infernal crews," sometimes as "human harpies."[ ] this sentiment acquired new force, when, at two different periods, by the fortunate escape of captives, what seemed an authentic picture of their condition was presented to the world. the story of these fugitives will show at once the hardships of their lot, and the foundation of the appeal which was soon made to the country with so much effect. [footnote : boston independent chronicle, may , , xviii. no. ; sparks's franklin, ix. , .] the earliest of these escapes was in , by a person originally captured in a vessel from boston. at algiers he had been, with the rest of the ship's company, exposed for sale at public auction, whence he was sent to the country house of his master, about two miles from town. here, for the space of eighteen months, he was chained to the wheelbarrow, and allowed only one pound of bread a day, during all which wretched period he had no opportunity to learn the fate of his companions. from the country he was removed to algiers, where, in a numerous company of white slaves, he encountered three of his shipmates, and twenty-six other americans. after remaining for some time crowded together in the slave prison, they were all distributed among the different galleys in the service of the dey. our fugitive, with eighteen other white slaves, was put on board a xebec, carrying eight six-pounders and sixty men, which, on the coast of malta, encountered an armed vessel belonging to genoa, and, after much bloodshed, was taken sword in hand. eleven of the unfortunate slaves, compelled to this unwelcome service in the cause of a tyrannical master, were killed in the contest, before the triumph of the genoese could deliver them from their chains. our countryman and the few still alive were at once set at liberty, and, it is said, "treated with that humanity which distinguishes the christian from the barbarian."[ ] [footnote : boston independent chronicle, oct. , , vol. xx. no. ; history of the war with tripoli, p. .] [illustration] his escape was followed in the next year by that of several others, achieved under circumstances widely different. they had entered, about five years before, on board a vessel belonging to philadelphia, which was captured near the western islands, and carried into algiers. the crew, consisting of twenty persons, were doomed to bondage. several were sent into the country and chained to work with the mules. others were put on board a galley and chained to the oars. the latter, tempted by the facilities of their position near the sea, made several attempts to escape, which for some time proved fruitless. at last, the love of freedom triumphing over the suggestions of humanity, they rose upon their overseers; some of whom they killed, and confined others. then, seizing a small galley of their masters, they set sail for gibraltar, where in a few hours they landed as freemen.[ ] thus, by killing their keepers and carrying off property not their own, did these fugitive white slaves achieve their liberty. [footnote : history of the war with tripoli, p. . american museum, vol. viii. appendix.] such stories could not be recounted without producing a strong effect. the glimpses thus opened into the dread regions of slavery gave a harrowing reality to all that conjecture or imagination had pictured. it was, indeed, true, that our own white brethren, heirs to the freedom newly purchased by precious blood, partakers in the sovereignty of citizenship, belonging to the fellowship of the christian church, were degraded in unquestioning obedience to an arbitrary taskmaster, sold as beasts of the field, and galled by the manacle and the lash! it was true that they were held at fixed prices; and that their only chance of freedom was to be found in the earnest, energetic, united efforts of their countrymen in their behalf. it is not easy to comprehend the exact condition to which they were reduced. there is no reason to believe that it differed materially from that of other christian captives in algiers. the masters of vessels were lodged together, and indulged with a table by themselves, though a small iron ring was attached to one of their legs, to denote that they were slaves. the seamen were taught and obliged to work at the trade of carpenter, blacksmith, and stone mason, from six o'clock in the morning till four o'clock in the afternoon, without intermission, except for half an hour at dinner.[ ] some of the details of their mode of life, as transmitted to us, are doubtless exaggerated. it is, however, sufficient to know that they were slaves; nor is there any other human condition, which, when barely mentioned, even without one word of description, so strongly awakens the sympathies of every just and enlightened lover of his race. [footnote : history of the war between the united states and tripoli, p. .] [illustration] with a view to secure their freedom, informal agencies were soon established under the direction of our minister at paris; and the _society of redemption_--whose beneficent exertions, commencing so early in modern history, were still continued--offered their aid. our agents were blandly entertained by that great slave dealer, the dey of algiers, who informed them that he was familiar with the exploits of washington, and, as he never expected to see him, expressed a hope, that, through congress, he might receive a full-length portrait of this hero of freedom, to be displayed in his palace at algiers. he, however, still clung to his american slaves, holding them at prices beyond the means of the agents. these, in , were $ for a master of a vessel, $ for a mate, $ for a passenger, and $ for a seaman; whereas the agents were authorized to offer only $ for each captive.[ ] in , the tariff of prices seems to have fallen. meanwhile, one obtained his freedom through private means, others escaped, and others still were liberated by the great liberator death. the following list, if not interesting from the names of the captives, will at least be curious as evidence of the sums demanded for them in the slave market:[ ]-- _crew of the ship dolphin, of philadelphia, captured july , ._ sequins. richard o'brien, master, price demanded, , andrew montgomery, mate, , jacob tessanier, french passenger, , william patterson, seaman, (keeps a tavern,) , philip sloan, " peleg loring, " john robertson, " james hall, " _crew of the schooner maria, of boston, captured july , ._ isaac stevens, master, (of concord, mass.,) , alexander forsythe, mate, , james cathcart, seaman, (keeps a tavern,) george smith, " (in the dey's house,) john gregory, " james hermit, " ------ , duty on the above sum, ten per cent., , - / sundry gratifications to officers of the dey's household, - / ---------- sequins , - / this sum being equal to $ , . [footnote : lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : lyman's diplomacy vol. ii. p. ; history of the war with tripoli, p. .] in , there were one hundred and fifteen american slaves in algiers.[ ] their condition excited the fraternal feeling of the whole people, while it occupied the anxious attention of congress and the prayers of the clergy. a petition dated at algiers, december , , was addressed to the house of representatives, by these unhappy persons.[ ] "your petitioners," it says, "are at present captives in this city of bondage, employed daily in the most laborious work, without any respect to persons. they pray that you will take their unfortunate situation into consideration, and adopt such measures as will restore the american captives to their country, their friends, families, and connections; and your petitioners will ever pray and be thankful." but the action of congress was sluggish, compared with the swift desires of all lovers of freedom. [footnote : lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : ibid. p. .] appeals of a different character, addressed to the country at large, were now commenced. these were efficiently aided by a letter to the american people, dated lisbon, july , , from colonel humphreys, the friend and companion of washington, and at that time our minister to portugal. taking advantage of the general interest in lotteries, and particularly of the custom, not then condemned, of resorting to these as a mode of obtaining money for literary or benevolent purposes, he suggested a grand lottery, sanctioned by the united states, or particular lotteries in the individual states, in order to obtain the means required to purchase the freedom of our countrymen. he then asks, "is there within the limits of these united states an individual who will not cheerfully contribute, in proportion to his means, to carry it into effect? by the peculiar blessings of freedom which you enjoy, by the disinterested sacrifices you made for its attainment, by the patriotic blood of those martyrs of liberty who died to secure your independence, and by all the tender ties of nature, let me conjure you once more to snatch your unfortunate countrymen from fetters, dungeons, and death." this appeal was followed shortly after by a petition from the american captives in algiers, addressed to the ministers of the gospel of every denomination throughout the united states, praying their help in the sacred cause of emancipation. it begins by an allusion to the day of national thanksgiving appointed by president washington, and proceeds to ask the clergy to set apart the sunday preceding that day for sermons, to be delivered contemporaneously throughout the country in behalf of their brethren in bonds.[ ] "_reverend and respected_,-- "on thursday, the th of february, , you are enjoined by the president of the united states of america to appear in the various temples of that god who heareth the groaning of the prisoner, and in mercy remembereth those who are appointed to die. "nor are ye to assemble alone; for on this, the high day of continental thanksgiving, all the religious societies and denominations throughout the union, and all persons whomsoever within the limits of the confederated states, are to enter the courts of jehovah, with their several pastors, and gratefully to render unfeigned thanks to the ruler of nations for the manifold and signal mercies which distinguish your lot as a people; in a more particular manner, commemorating your exemption from foreign war; being greatly thankful for the preservation of peace at home and abroad; and fervently beseeching the kind author of all these blessings graciously to prolong them to you, and finally to render the united states of america more and more an asylum for the unfortunate of every clime under heaven. "_reverend and respected_,-- "most fervent are our daily prayers, breathed in the sincerity of woes unspeakable; most ardent are the imbittered aspirations of our afflicted spirits, that thus it may be in deed and in truth. although we are prisoners in a foreign land, although we are far, very far from our native homes, although our harps are hung upon the weeping willows of slavery, nevertheless america is still preferred above our chiefest joy, and the last wish of our departing souls shall be _her peace, her prosperity, her liberty forever_. on this day, the day of festivity and gladness, remember us, your unfortunate brethren, late members of the family of freedom, now doomed to perpetual confinement. _pray, earnestly pray, that our grievous calamities may have a gracious end. supplicate the father of mercies for the most wretched of his offspring. beseech the god of all consolation to comfort us by the hope of final restoration. implore the jesus whom you worship to open the house of the prison. entreat the christ whom you adore to let the miserable captives go free._ "_reverend and respected_,-- "it is not your prayers alone, although of much avail, which we beg on the bending knee of sufferance, galled by the corroding fetters of slavery. we conjure you by the bowels of the mercies of the almighty, we ask you in the name of your father in heaven, to have compassion on our miseries, to wipe away the crystallized tears of despondence, to hush the heartfelt sigh of distress; _and by every possible exertion of godlike charity, to restore us to our wives, to our children, to our friends, to our god and to yours_. "is it possible that a stimulus can be wanting? forbid it, the example of a dying, bleeding, crucified savior! forbid it, the precepts of a risen, ascended, glorified immanuel! _do unto us in fetters, in bonds, in dungeons, in danger of the pestilence, as ye yourselves would wish to be done unto. lift up your voices like a trumpet; cry aloud in the cause of humanity, benevolence, philosophy; eloquence can never be directed to a nobler purpose; religion never employed in a more glorious cause; charity never meditate a more exalted flight._ o that a live coal from the burning altar of celestial beneficence might warm the hearts of the sacred order, and impassion the feelings of the attentive hearer! "_gentlemen of the clergy in new hampshire, rhode island, massachusetts, new york, pennsylvania, and virginia_,-- "your most zealous exertions, your unremitting assiduities, are pathetically invoked. those states in which you minister unto the church of god gave us birth. we are as aliens from the commonwealth of america. we are strangers to the temples of our god. the strong arm of infidelity hath bound us with two chains; the iron one of slavery and the sword of death are entering our very souls. _arise, ye ministers of the most high, christians of every denomination, awake unto charity! let a brief, setting forth our situation, be published throughout the continent. be it read in every house of worship, on sunday, the th of february. command a preparatory discourse to be delivered on sunday, the th of february, in all churches whithersoever this petition or the brief may come; and on thursday, the th of february, complete the godlike work._ it is a day which assembles a continent to thanksgiving. it is a day which calls an empire to praise. god grant that this may be the day which emancipates the forlorn captive, and may the best blessings of those who are ready to perish be your abiding portion forever! thus prays a small remnant who are still alive; thus pray your fellow-citizens, chained to the galleys of the impostor mahomet. "signed for and in behalf of his fellow-sufferers, by "richard o'brien, "in the tenth year of his captivity." [footnote : history of the war with tripoli, pp. - .] the cause in which this document was written will indispose the candid reader to any criticism of its somewhat exuberant language. like the drama of cervantes, setting forth the horrors of the galleys of algiers, "it was not drawn from the imagination, but was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very heart of truth." its earnest appeals were calculated to touch the soul, and to make the very name of slavery and slave dealer detestable. and here i should do injustice to the truth of history, if i did not suspend for one moment the narrative of this anti-slavery movement, in order to exhibit the pointed parallels then extensively recognized between algerine and american slavery. the conscientious man could not plead in behalf of the emancipation of his white fellow-citizens, without confessing in his heart, perhaps to the world, that every consideration, every argument, every appeal urged for the white man, told with equal force in behalf of his wretched colored brother in bonds. thus the interest awakened for the slave in algiers embraced also the slave at home. sometimes they were said to be alike in condition; sometimes, indeed, it was openly declared that the horrors of our american slavery surpassed that of algiers. john wesley, the oracle of methodism, addressing those engaged in the negro slave trade, said, as early as , "you have carried the survivors into the vilest of slavery, never to end but with life--_such slavery as is not found among the turks at algiers_."[ ] and another writer, in , when the sympathy with the american captives was at its height, presses the parallel in pungent terms: "for this practice of buying and selling slaves," he says, "we are not entitled to charge the algerines with any exclusive degree of barbarity. the christians of europe and america carry on this commerce one hundred times more extensively than the algerines. it has received a recent sanction from the immaculate divan of britain. nobody seems even to be surprised by a diabolical kind of advertisements, which, for some months past, have frequently adorned the newspapers of philadelphia. the french fugitives from the west indies have brought with them a crowd of slaves. these most injured people sometimes run off, and their master advertises a reward for apprehending them. at the same time, we are commonly informed that his sacred name is marked in capitals on their breasts; or, in plainer terms, it is stamped on that part of the body with a red-hot iron. before, therefore, we reprobate the ferocity of the algerines, we should inquire whether it is not possible to find in some other region of this globe a systematic brutality still more disgraceful."[ ] [footnote : wesley's thoughts on slavery, ( ,) p. .] [footnote : short account of algiers, (philadelphia, ,) p. .] not long after the address to the clergy by the captives in algiers, a publication appeared in new hampshire, entitled "tyrannical libertymen; a discourse upon negro slavery in the united states, composed at ---- in new hampshire on the late federal thanksgiving day,"[ ] which does not hesitate to brand american slavery in terms of glowing reprobation. "there was a contribution upon this day," it says, "for the purpose of redeeming those americans who are in slavery at algiers--an object worthy of a generous people. their redemption, we hope, is not far distant. but should any person contribute money for this purpose which he had cudgelled out of a negro slave, he would deserve less applause than an actor in the comedy of las casas.... when will americans show that they are what they affect to be thought--friends to the cause of humanity at large, reverers of the rights of their fellow-creatures? hitherto we have been oppressors; nay, murderers! for many a negro has died by the whip of his master, and many have lived when death would have been preferable. surely the curse of god and the reproach of man is against us. worse than the seven plagues of egypt will befall us. if algiers shall be punished sevenfold, truly america seventy and sevenfold." [footnote : from the eagle office, hanover, new hampshire, .] to the excitement of this discussion we are indebted for the story of "the algerine captive;" a work to which, though now forgotten, belongs the honor of being among the earliest literary productions of our country reprinted in london, at a time when few american books were known abroad. it was published anonymously, but is known to have been written by royall tyler, afterwards chief justice of vermont. in the form of a narrative of personal adventures, extending through two volumes, as a slave in algiers, the author depicts the horrors of this condition. in this regard it is not unlike the story of "archy moore," in our own day, displaying the horrors of american slavery. the author, while engaged as surgeon on board a ship in the african slave trade, is taken captive by the algerines. after describing the reception of the poor negroes, he says, "i cannot reflect on this transaction yet without shuddering. i have deplored my conduct with tears of anguish; and i pray a merciful god, the common parent of the great family of the universe, who hath made of one flesh and one blood all nations of the earth, that the miseries, the insults, and cruel woundings i afterwards received, when a slave myself, may expiate for the inhumanity i was necessitated to exercise towards these my brethren of the human race."[ ] and when at length he is himself made captive by the algerines, he records his meditations and resolves. "grant me," he says, from the depths of his own misfortune, "once more to taste the freedom of my native country, and every moment of my life shall be dedicated to preaching against this detestable commerce. i will fly to our fellow-citizens in the southern states; i will, on my knees, conjure them, in the name of humanity, to abolish a traffic which causes it to bleed in every pore. if they are deaf to the pleadings of nature, i will conjure them, for the sake of consistency, to cease to deprive their fellow-creatures of freedom, which their writers, their orators, representatives, senators, and even their constitutions of government, have declared to be the unalienable birthright of man."[ ] [footnote : chap. xxx.] [footnote : chap. xxxii.] but this comparison was presented not merely in the productions of literature, or in fugitive essays. it was distinctly set forth, on an important occasion, in the diplomacy of our country, by one of her most illustrious citizens. complaint had been made against england for carrying away from new york certain negroes, in alleged violation of the treaty of . in an elaborate paper discussing this matter, john jay, at that time, under the confederation, secretary for foreign affairs, says, "whether men can be so degraded as, under any circumstances, to be with propriety denominated _goods and chattels_, and, under that idea, capable of becoming _booty_, is a question on which opinions are unfortunately various, even in countries professing christianity and respect for the rights of mankind." he then proceeds, in words worthy of special remembrance at this time: "if a war should take place between france and algiers, and in the course of it france should invite the american slaves there to run away from their masters, and actually receive and protect them in their camp, what would congress, and indeed the world, think and say of france, if, in making peace with algiers, she should give up those american slaves to their former algerine masters? _is there any difference between the two cases than this_, viz., _that the american slaves at algiers are_ white _people, whereas the african slaves at new york were_ black _people_?" in introducing these sentiments, the secretary remarks, "he is aware he is about to say unpopular things; but higher motives than personal considerations press him to proceed."[ ] words worthy of john jay! [footnote : secret journals of congress, , vol. iv. pp. - .] the same comparison was also presented by the abolition society of pennsylvania, in an address, in , to the convention which framed the federal constitution. "providence," it says, "seems to have ordained the sufferings of our american brethren, groaning in captivity at algiers, to awaken us to a sentiment of the injustice and cruelty of which we are guilty towards the wretched africans."[ ] shortly afterwards, it was again brought forward by dr. franklin, in an ingenious apologue, marked by his peculiar humor, simplicity, logic, and humanity. as president of the same abolition society, which had already addressed the convention, he signed a memorial to the earliest congress under the constitution, praying it "to countenance the restoration of liberty to those unhappy men, who alone, in this land of freedom, are degraded into perpetual bondage; and to step to the _very verge_ of the power vested in them for _discouraging_ every species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men." in the debates which ensued on the presentation of this memorial,--memorable not only for its intrinsic importance as a guide to the country, but as the final public act of one of the chief founders of our national institutions,--several attempts were made to justify slavery and the slave trade. the last and almost dying energies of franklin were excited. in a remarkable document, written only twenty-four days before his death, and published in the journals of the time, he gave a parody of a speech actually delivered in the american congress--transferring the scene to algiers, and putting the american speech in the mouth of a corsair slave dealer, in the divan at that place. all the arguments adduced in favor of negro slavery are applied by the algerine orator with equal force to justify the plunder and enslavement of whites.[ ] with this protest against a great wrong, franklin died. [footnote : brissot's travels, vol. i. letter .] [footnote : sparks's franklin, vol. ii. p. .] most certainly we shall be aided, at least in our appreciation of american slavery, when we know that it was likened, by characters like wesley, jay, and franklin, to the abomination of slavery in algiers. but whatever may have been the influence of this parallel on the condition of the black slaves, it did not check the rising sentiments of the people against white slavery. the country was now aroused. a general contribution was proposed for the emancipation of our brethren. their cause was pleaded in churches, and not forgotten at the festive board. at all public celebrations, the toasts, "happiness for all," and "universal liberty," were proposed, not less in sympathy with the efforts for freedom in france than with those for our own wretched white fellow-countrymen in bonds. on at least one occasion,[ ] they were distinctly remembered in the following toast: "our brethren in slavery at algiers. may the measures adopted for their redemption be successful, and may they live to rejoice with their friends in the blessings of liberty." [footnote : at portsmouth, n. h., at a public entertainment, april , , in honor of french successes.--boston independent chronicle, vol. xxvii. no. .] meanwhile, the earnest efforts of our government were continued. in his message to congress, bearing date december , , president washington said, "with peculiar satisfaction i add, that information has been received from an agent deputed on our part to algiers, importing that the terms of the treaty with the dey and regency of that country have been adjusted in such a manner as to authorize the expectation of a speedy peace, and the restoration of our unfortunate fellow-citizens from a grievous captivity." this, indeed, had been already effected on the th of september, .[ ] it was a treaty full of humiliation for the _chivalry_ of our country. besides securing to the algerine government a large sum, in consideration of present peace and the liberation of the captives, it stipulated for an annual tribute from the united states of twenty-one thousand dollars. but feelings of pride disappeared in heartfelt satisfaction. it is recorded that a thrill of joy went through the land when it was announced that a vessel had left algiers, having on board all the americans who had been in captivity there. their emancipation was purchased at the cost of upwards of seven hundred thousand dollars. but the largess of money, and even the indignity of tribute, were forgotten in gratulations on their new-found happiness. the president, in a message to congress, december , , presented their "actual liberation" as a special subject of joy "to every feeling heart." thus did our government construct a bridge of gold for freedom. [footnote : united states statutes at large, (little & brown's edit.,) treaties, vol. viii. p. ; lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] this act of national generosity was followed by peace with tripoli, purchased november , , for the sum of fifty thousand dollars, under the guaranty of the dey of algiers, who was declared to be "the mutual friend of the parties." by an article in this treaty, negotiated by joel barlow,--out of tenderness, perhaps, to mohammedanism, and to save our citizens from the slavery which was regarded as the just doom of "christian dogs,"--it was expressly declared that "the government of the united states of america is not in any sense founded on the christian religion."[ ] at a later day, by a treaty with tunis, purchased after some delay, but at a smaller price than that with tripoli, all danger to our citizens seemed to be averted. in this treaty it was ignominiously provided, that fugitive slaves, taking refuge on board american merchant vessels, and even vessels of war, should be restored to their owners.[ ] [footnote : article ; lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. pp. , ; united states statutes at large, vol. viii. p. .] [footnote : article ; united states statutes at large, vol. viii. p. . this treaty has two dates, august, , and march, . william eaton and james leander cathcart were the agents of the united states at the latter date.] [illustration] as early as , a treaty of a more liberal character had been entered into with morocco, which was confirmed in ,[ ] at the price of twenty thousand dollars; while, by a treaty with spain, in , this slave-trading empire _expressly declared its desire that the name of slavery might be effaced from the memory of man_.[ ] [footnote : lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. ; united states statutes at large, vol. viii. p. .] [footnote : history of the war with tripoli, p. .] but these governments were barbarous, faithless, and regardless of the duties of humanity and justice. treaties with them were evanescent. as in the days of charles the second, they seemed made merely to be broken. they were observed only so long as money was derived under their stipulations. our growing commerce was soon again fatally vexed by the barbary corsairs, who now compelled even the ships of our navy to submit to peculiar indignities. in , the bey of tripoli formally declared war against the united states, and in token thereof "our flagstaff [before the consulate] was chopped down six feet from the ground, and left reclining on the terrace."[ ] our citizens once more became the prize of man-stealers. colonel humphreys, now at home in retirement, was aroused. in an address to the public, he called again for united action, saying, "americans of the united states, your fellow-citizens are in fetters! can there be but one feeling? where are the gallant remains of the race who fought for freedom? where the glorious heirs of their patriotism? _will there never be a truce between political parties? or must it forever be the fate of_ free states, _that the soft voice of union should be drowned in the hoarse clamors of discord?_ no! let every friend of blessed humanity and sacred freedom entertain a better hope and confidence."[ ] colonel humphreys was not a statesman only; he was known as a poet also. and in this character he made another appeal to his country. in a poem on "the future glory of the united states," he breaks forth into an indignant condemnation of slavery, which, whatever may be the merits of its verse, should not be omitted here. teach me curst slavery's cruel woes to paint, beneath whose weight our captured freemen faint! * * * * * where am i! heavens! what mean these dolorous cries? and what these horrid scenes that round me rise? heard ye the groans, those messengers of pain? heard ye the clanking of the captive's chain? heard ye your free-born sons their fate deplore, pale in their chains and laboring at the oar? saw ye the dungeon, in whose blackest cell, that house of woe, your friends, your children, dwell?-- or saw ye those who dread the torturing hour, crushed by the rigors of a tyrant's power? _saw ye the shrinking slave, th' uplifted lash, the frowning butcher, and the reddening gash? saw ye the fresh blood where it bubbling broke from purple scars, beneath the grinding stroke? saw ye the naked limbs writhed to and fro, in wild contortions of convulsing woe?_ felt ye the blood, with pangs alternate rolled, thrill through your veins and freeze with deathlike cold, or fire, as down the tear of pity stole, your manly breasts, and harrow up the soul?[ ] [footnote : lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] [footnote : miscellaneous works of david humphreys, p. .] [footnote : miscellaneous works of david humphreys, pp. , .] the people and government responded to this voice. and here commenced those early deeds by which our navy became known in europe. the frigate philadelphia, through a reverse of shipwreck rather than war, falling into the hands of the tripolitans, was, by a daring act of decatur, burned under the guns of the enemy. other feats of hardihood ensued. a romantic expedition by general eaton, from alexandria, in egypt, across the desert of libya, captured derne. three several times tripoli was attacked, and, at last, on the d of june, , entered into a treaty, by which it was stipulated that the united states should pay sixty thousand dollars for the freedom of two hundred american slaves; and that, in the event of future war between the two countries, prisoners should not be reduced to slavery, but should be exchanged rank for rank; and if there were any deficiency on either side, it should be made up by the payment of five hundred spanish dollars for each captain, three hundred dollars for each mate and supercargo, and one hundred dollars for each seaman.[ ] thus did our country, after successes not without what is called the glory of arms, again purchase by money the emancipation of her white citizens. [footnote : united states statutes at large, vol. viii. p. ; lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] [illustration] the power of tripoli was, however, inconsiderable. that of algiers was more formidable. it is not a little curious that the largest ship of this slave-trading state was the crescent, of thirty-four guns, built in new hampshire;[ ] _though it is hardly to the credit of our sister state that the algerine power derived such important support from her_. the lawlessness of the corsair again broke forth by the seizure, in , of the brig edwin, of salem, and the enslavement of her crew. all the energies of the country were at this time enlisted in war with great britain; but, even amidst the anxieties of this gigantic contest, the voice of these captives was heard, awakening a corresponding sentiment throughout the land, until the government was prompted to seek their release. through mr. noah, recently appointed consul at tunis, it offered to purchase their freedom at three thousand dollars a head.[ ] the answer of the dey, repeated on several occasions, was, that "not for two millions of dollars would he sell his american slaves."[ ] the timely treaty of ghent, in , establishing peace with great britain, left us at liberty to deal with this enslaver of our countrymen. a naval force was promptly despatched to the mediterranean, under commodore bainbridge and commodore decatur. the rapidity of their movements and their striking success had the desired effect. in june, , a treaty was extorted from the dey of algiers, by which, after abandoning all claim to tribute in any form, he delivered his american captives, ten in number, without any ransom; and stipulated, that hereafter no americans should be made slaves or forced to hard labor, and still further, that "any christians whatever, captives in algiers," making their escape and taking refuge on board an american ship of war, should be safe from all requisition or reclamation.[ ] [footnote : history of the war between the united states and tripoli, p. .] [footnote : noah's travels, p. .] [footnote : ibid. p. ; national intelligencer of march , .] [footnote : united states statutes at large, vol. viii. p. ; lyman's diplomacy, vol. ii. p. .] it is related of decatur, that he walked his deck with impatient earnestness, awaiting the promised signature of the treaty. "is the treaty signed?" he cried to the captain of the port and the swedish consul, as they reached the guerriere with a white flag of truce. "it is," replied the swede; and the treaty was placed in decatur's hands. "are the prisoners in the boat?" "they are." "every one of them?" "every one, sir." the captive americans now came forward to greet and bless their deliverer.[ ] surely this moment--when he looked upon his emancipated fellow-countrymen, and thought how much he had contributed to overthrow the relentless system of bondage under which they had groaned--must have been one of the sweetest in the life of that hardy son of the sea. but should i not say, even here, that there is now a citizen of massachusetts, who, without army or navy, by a simple act of self-renunciation, has given freedom to a larger number of christian american slaves than was done by the sword of decatur? [footnote : mackenzie's life of decatur, p. .] thus, not by money, but by arms, was emancipation this time secured. the country was grateful for the result; though the poor freedmen, ingulfed in the unknown wastes of ocean, on their glad passage home, were never able to mingle joys with their fellow-citizens. they were lost in the epervier, of which no trace has ever appeared. nor did the people feel the melancholy mockery in the conduct of the government, which, having weakly declared that it "was not in any sense founded on the christian religion," now expressly confined the protecting power of its flag to fugitive "christians, captives in algiers," leaving slaves of another faith to be snatched as between the horns of the altar, and returned to the continued horrors of their lot. the success of the american arms was followed speedily by a more signal triumph of great britain, acting generously in behalf of all the christian powers. her expedition was debated, perhaps prompted, in the congress of vienna, where, after the overthrow of napoleon, the brilliant representatives of the different states of europe, in the presence of the monarchs of austria, prussia, and russia, were assembled to consider the evils proper to be remedied by joint action, and to adjust the disordered balance of empire. among many high concerns, here entertained, was the project of a crusade against the barbary states, in order to accomplish the complete abolition of christian slavery there practised. for this purpose, it was proposed to form "a holy league." this was earnestly enforced by a memoir from sir sidney smith, the same who foiled napoleon at acre, and who at this time was president of an association called the "knights liberators of the _white_ slaves in africa,"--in our day it might be called an abolition society,--thus adding to the doubtful laurels of war the true glory of striving for the freedom of his fellow-men.[ ] [footnote : mémoire sur la nécessité et les moyens de faire cesser les pirateries des etats barbaresques. reçu, considéré, et adopté à paris en septembre, à turin le octobre, , à vienne durant le congrès. par m. sidney smith. see quarterly review, vol. xv. p. , where this is noticed. schoell, _histoire des traités de paix_, tom. xi. p. .] this project, though not adopted by the congress, awakened a generous echo in the public mind. various advocates appeared in its behalf; and what the congress failed to undertake was now especially urged upon great britain, by the agents of spain and portugal, who insisted, that, _because_ this nation had abolished the negro slave trade, it was her _duty_ to put an end to the slavery of the _whites_.[ ] [footnote : edinburgh review, vol. xxvi. p. ; osler's life of exmouth, p. ; mackenzie's life of decatur, p. .] a disgraceful impediment seemed at first to interfere. there was a common belief that the obstructions of the barbary states, in the navigation of the mediterranean, were advantageous to british commerce, by thwarting and strangling that of other countries; and that therefore great britain, ever anxious for commercial supremacy, would rather encourage them than seek their overthrow--the love of trade prevailing over the love of man.[ ] this suggestion of a sordid selfishness, which was willing to coin money out of the lives and liberties of fellow-christians, was soon answered. [footnote : quarterly review, vol. xv. p. ; edinburgh review, vol. xxvi. p. , noticing "a letter to a member of parliament, on the slavery of the christians at algiers. by walter croker, esq., of the royal navy. london, ." schoell, _traités de paix_, tom. xi. p. .] at the beginning of the year , lord exmouth, who, as sir edward pellew, had already acquired distinction in the british navy, was despatched with a squadron to algiers. by his general orders, bearing date, boyne, port mahon, march , , he announced the object of his expedition as follows:-- "he has been instructed and directed by his royal highness, the prince regent, to proceed with the fleet to algiers, and _there make certain arrangements for diminishing, at least_, the piratical excursions of the barbary states, _by which thousands of our fellow-creatures, innocently following their commercial pursuits, have been dragged into the most wretched and revolting state of slavery_. "the commander-in-chief is confident that _this outrageous system of piracy and slavery rouses in common the same spirit of indignation which he himself feels_; and should the government of algiers refuse the reasonable demands he bears from the prince regent, he doubts not but the flag will be honorably and zealously supported by every officer and man under his command, in his endeavors to procure the acceptation of them by force; and _if force must be resorted to, we have the consolation of knowing that we fight in the sacred cause of humanity, and cannot fail of success_."[ ] [footnote : osler's life of exmouth, p. .] [illustration] the moderate object of his mission was readily obtained. "arrangements for diminishing the piratical excursions of the barbary states" were established. certain ionian slaves, claimed as british subjects, were released, and peace was secured for naples and sardinia--the former paying a ransom of five hundred dollars, and the latter of three hundred dollars, a head, for their subjects liberated from bondage. this was at algiers. lord exmouth next proceeded to tunis and tripoli, where, acting beyond his instructions, he obtained from both these piratical governments a promise to abolish christian slavery within their dominions. in one of his letters on this event, he says that, in pressing these concessions, he "acted solely on his own responsibility and without orders, the causes and reasoning on which, upon general principles, may be defensible; but, as applying to our own country, may not be borne out, _the old mercantile interest being against it_."[ ] a similar distrust had been excited in another age by a similar achievement. admiral blake, in the time of cromwell, after his attack upon tunis, writing to his government at home, said, "and now, seeing it hath pleased god soe signally to justify us herein, i hope his highness will not be offended at it, nor any who regard duly the honor of our nation, _although i expect to have the clamors of interested men_."[ ] thus, more than once in the history of these efforts to abolish white slavery, did commerce, the daughter of freedom, fall under the foul suspicion of disloyalty to her parent! [footnote : osler's life of exmouth, p. .] [footnote : thurloe's state papers, vol. ii. p. .] lord exmouth did injustice to the moral sense of england. his conduct was sustained and applauded, not only in the house of commons, but by the public at large. he was soon directed to return to algiers,--which had failed to make any general renunciation of the custom of enslaving christians,--to extort by force such a stipulation. this expedition is regarded by british historians with peculiar pride. in all the annals of their triumphant navy, there is none in which the barbarism of war seems so much "to smooth its wrinkled front." with a fleet complete at all points, the admiral set sail july , , on what was deemed a holy war. with five line-of-battle ships, five heavy frigates, four bomb vessels, and five gun brigs, besides a dutch fleet of five frigates and a corvette, under admiral van de capellan,--who, on learning the object of the expedition, solicited and obtained leave to coöperate,--on the th of august he anchored before the formidable fortifications of algiers. it would not be agreeable or instructive to dwell on the scene of desolation and blood which ensued. before night the fleet fired, besides shells and rockets, one hundred and eighteen tons of powder, and fifty thousand shot, weighing more than five hundred tons. the citadel and massive batteries of algiers were shattered and crumbled to ruins. the storehouses, ships, and gun boats were in flames, while the blazing lightnings of battle were answered, in a storm of signal fury, by the lightnings of heaven. the power of the great slave dealer was humbled. the terms of submission were announced to his fleet by the admiral in an order, dated, queen charlotte, algiers bay, august , , which may be read with truer pleasure than any in military or naval history. "the commander-in-chief," he said, "is happy to inform the fleet of the final termination of their strenuous exertions, by the signature of peace, confirmed under a salute of twenty-one guns, on the following conditions, dictated by his royal highness, the prince regent of england. "_first._ the abolition of christian slavery forever. "_second. the delivery to my flag of all slaves in the dominions of the dey, to whatever nation they may belong, at noon to-morrow._ "_third._ to deliver also to my flag all money received by him for the redemption of slaves since the commencement of this year, at noon also to-morrow." on the next day, twelve hundred slaves were emancipated, making, with those liberated in his earlier expedition, more than three thousand, whom, by address or force, lord exmouth had delivered from bondage.[ ] [footnote : osler's life of exmouth, p. ; british annual register, ( ,) vol. lviii. pp. - ; shaler's sketches, pp. - .] thus ended white slavery in the barbary states. it had already died out in morocco. it had been quietly renounced by tripoli and tunis. its last retreat was algiers, whence it was driven amidst the thunder of the british cannon. signal honors now awaited the admiral. he was elevated to a new rank in the peerage, and on his coat of arms was emblazoned a figure never before known in heraldry--_a christian slave holding aloft the cross and dropping his broken fetters_.[ ] from the officers of the squadron he received a costly service of plate, with an inscription, in testimony of "the memorable victory gained at algiers, _where the great cause of christian freedom was bravely fought and nobly accomplished_."[ ] but higher far than honor were the rich personal satisfactions which he derived from contemplating the nature of the cause in which he had been enlisted. in his despatch to the government, describing the battle, and written at the time, he says, in words which may be felt by others, engaged, like him, against slavery, "in all the vicissitudes of a long life of public service, no circumstance has ever produced on my mind such impressions of gratitude as the event of yesterday. _to have been one of the humble instruments in the hands of divine providence for bringing to reason a ferocious government, and destroying forever the insufferable and horrid system of christian slavery, can never cease to be a source of delight and heartfelt comfort to every individual happy enough to be employed in it._"[ ] [footnote : osler's life of exmouth, p. .] [footnote : osler's life of exmouth, p. .] [footnote : ibid. ; shaler's sketches of algiers, p. .] [illustration] the reverses of algiers did not end here. christian slavery was abolished; but, in , the insolence of this barbarian government aroused the vengeance of france to take military possession of the whole country. algiers capitulated, the dey abdicated, and this considerable state became a french colony. thus i have endeavored to present what i could glean in various fields on the _history_ of christian slavery in the barbary states. i have often employed the words of others, as they seemed best calculated to convey the exact idea of the scene, incident, or sentiment which i wished to preserve. so doing, i have occupied much time; but i may find my apology in the words of an english chronicler.[ ] "algier," he says, "were altogether unworthy so long a discourse, _were not the unworthinesse worthy our consideration_. i meane the cruell abuse of the christian name, which let us for inciting our zeale and exciting our charitie and thankfulness more deeply weigh, to releeve those in miseries, as we may, with our paynes, prayers, purses, and all the best meditations." [footnote : purchas's pilgrims, vol. ii. p. .] iii. it is by a natural transition that i am now conducted to the inquiry into the _true character_ of the evil whose history has been traced. and here i shall be brief. the slavery of christians by the barbary states is regarded as an unquestionable outrage upon humanity and justice. nobody hesitates in this judgment. our liveliest sympathies attend these white brethren--torn from their homes, the ties of family and friendship rudely severed, parent separated from child and husband from wife, exposed at public sale like cattle, and dependent, like cattle, upon the uncertain will of an arbitrary taskmaster. we read of a "gentleman" who was compelled to be the valet of the barbarian emperor of morocco;[ ] and calderon, the pride of the spanish stage, has depicted the miserable fate of a portuguese prince, condemned by infidel moors to carry water in a garden. but the lowly in condition had their unrecorded sorrows also, whose sum total must swell to a fearful amount. who can tell how many hearts have been wrung by the pangs of separation, how many crushed by the comfortless despair of interminable bondage? "speaking as a christian," says the good catholic father who has chronicled much of this misery, "if on the earth there can be any condition which, in its character and evils, may represent in any manner the dolorous passion of the son of god, (which exceeded all evils and torments, because by it the lord suffered every kind of evil and affliction,) it is, beyond question and doubt, none other than slavery and captivity in algiers and barbary, whose infinite evils, terrible torments, miseries without number, afflictions without mitigation, it is impossible to comprehend in a brief span of time."[ ] when we consider the author's character, as a father of the catholic church, it will be felt that language can no further go. [footnote : braithwaite's revolutions of morocco, p. ; noah's travels, p. .] [footnote : haedo, _historia_, pp. , . besides the illustrations of the hardships of white slavery already introduced, i refer briefly to the following: edinburgh review, vol. xxvi. pp. - ; croker's letter, pp. - ; quarterly review, vol. xv. p. ; eaton's life, p. ; noah's travels, p. .] [illustration] in nothing are the impiety and blasphemy of this custom more apparent than in the auctions of human beings, where men were sold to the highest bidder. through the personal experience of a young english merchant, abraham brown, afterwards a settler in massachusetts, we may learn how these were conducted. in , before the liberating power of cromwell had been acknowledged, he was captured, together with a whole crew, and carried into sallee. his own words, in his memoirs still preserved, will best tell his story.[ ] "on landing," he says, "an exceeding great company of most dismal spectators were led to behold us in our captivated condition. there was liberty for all sorts to come and look on us, that whosoever had a mind to buy any of us on the day appointed for our sale together in the market, might see, as i may say, what they would like to have for their money; whereby we had too many comfortless visitors, both from the town and country, one saying he would buy this man, and the other that. to comfort us, we were told by the christian slaves already there, if we met with such and such patrons, our usage would not be so bad as we supposed; though, indeed, our men found the usage of the best bad enough. fresh victuals and bread were supplied, i suppose to feed us up for the market, that we might be in some good plight against the day we were to be sold. and now i come to speak of our being sold into this doleful slavery. it was doleful in respect to the time and manner. as to the time, it was on our sabbath day, in the morning, about the time the people of god were about to enjoy the liberty of god's house; this was the time our bondage was confirmed. again, it was sad in respect to the manner of our selling. being all of us brought into the market-place, we were led about, two or three at a time, in the midst of a great concourse of people, both from the town and country, who had a full sight of us, and if that did not satisfy, they would come and feel of your hand, and look into your mouth to see whether you are sound in health, or to see, by the hardness of your hand, whether you have been a laborer or not. the manner of buying is this: he that bids the greatest price hath you; they bidding one upon another until the highest has you for a slave, whoever he is, or wherever he dwells. as concerning myself, being brought to the market in the weakest condition of any of our men, i was led forth among the cruel multitude to be sold. as yet being undiscovered what i was, i was like to have been sold at a very low rate, not above £ sterling, whereas our ordinary seamen were sold for £ and £ sterling, and two boys were sold for £ apiece; and being in this sad posture led up and down at least one hour and a half, during which time a dutchman, that was our carpenter, discovered me to some jews, they increased from £ to £ , which was the price my patron gave for me, being ducats; and had i not been so weakened, and in these rags, (indeed, i made myself more so than i was, for sometimes, as they led me, i pretended i could not go, and did often sit down;) i say, had not these things been, in all likelihood i had been sold for as much again in the market, and thus i had been dearer, and the difficulty greater to be redeemed. during the time of my being led up and down the market, i was possessed with the greatest fears, not knowing who my patron might be. i feared it might be one from the country, who would carry me where i could not return, or it might be one in and about sallee, of which we had sad accounts; and many other distracting thoughts i had. and though i was like to have been sold unto the most cruel man in sallee, there being but one piece of eight between him and my patron, yet the lord was pleased to cause him to buy me, of whom i may speak, to the glory of god, as the kindest man in the place." [footnote : ms. memoirs.] this is the story of a respectable person, little distinguished in the world. but the slave dealer applied his inexorable system without distinction of persons. the experiences of st. vincent de paul did not differ from those of abraham brown. that eminent character, admired, beloved and worshipped by large circles of mankind, has also left a record of his sale as a slave.[ ] "their proceedings," he says, "at our sale were as follows: after we had been stripped, they gave to each one of us a pair of drawers, a linen coat, with a cap, and paraded us through the city of tunis, where they had come expressly to sell us. having made us make five or six turns through the city, with the chain at our necks, they conducted us back to the boat, that the merchants might come to see who could eat well, and who not; and to show that our wounds were not mortal. this done, they took us to the public square, where the merchants came to visit us, precisely as they do at the purchase of a horse or of cattle, making us open the mouth to see our teeth, feeling our sides, searching our wounds, and making us move our steps, trot and run, then lift burdens, and then wrestle, in order to see the strength of each, and a thousand other sorts of brutalities." [footnote : _biographie universelle_, art. vincent de paul.] and here we may refer again to cervantes, whose pen was dipped in his own dark experience. in his life in algiers, he has displayed the horrors of the white slave market. the public crier exposes for sale a father and mother with their two children. they are to be sold separately, or, according to the language of our day, "in lots to suit purchasers." the father is resigned, confiding in god; the mother sobs; while the children, ignorant of the inhumanity of men, show an instinctive trust in the constant and wakeful protection of their parents--now, alas! impotent to shield them from dire calamity. a merchant, inclining to purchase one of the "little ones," and wishing to ascertain his bodily condition, causes him to open his mouth. the child, still ignorant of the doom which awaits him, imagines that the inquirer is about to extract a tooth, and, assuring him that it does not ache, begs him to desist. the merchant, in other respects an estimable man, pays one hundred and thirty dollars for the youngest child, and the sale is completed. thus a human being--one of those children of whom it has been said, "of such is the kingdom of heaven"--is profanely treated as an article of merchandise, and torn far away from a mother's arms and a father's support. the hardening influence of custom has steeled the merchant into insensibility to this violation of humanity and justice, this laceration of sacred ties, this degradation of the image of god. the unconscious heartlessness of the slave dealer, and the anguish of his victims, are depicted in the dialogue which ensues after the sale.[ ] [illustration] merchant. come hither, child; 'tis time to go to rest. juan. _signor, i will not leave my mother here, to go with any one._ mother. _alas! my child, thou art no longer mine, but his who bought thee._ juan. _what! then, have you, mother, forsaken me?_ mother. _o heavens! how cruel are ye!_ merchant. _come, hasten, boy._ juan. will you go with me, brother? francisco. i cannot, juan, 'tis not in my power;-- may heaven protect you, juan! mother. o my child, my joy and my delight, god won't forget thee! juan. o father! mother! whither will they bear me away from you? mother. permit me, worthy signor, to speak a moment in my infant's ear. grant me this small contentment; very soon i shall know nought but grief. merchant. what you would say, say now; to-night is the last time. mother. to-night is the first time my heart e'er felt such grief. juan. _pray keep me with you, mother, for i know not whither he'd carry me._ mother. _alas, poor child! fortune forsook thee even at thy birth._ the heavens are overcast, the elements are turbid, and the very sea and winds are all combined against me. _thou, my child, know'st not the dark misfortunes into which thou art so early plunged, but happily lackest the power to comprehend thy fate._ what i would crave of thee, my life, since i must never more be blessed with seeing thee, is that thou never, never wilt forget to say, as thou wert wont, thy _ave mary_; for that bright queen of goodness, grace, and virtue can loosen all thy bonds and give thee freedom. aydar. behold the wicked christian, how she counsels her innocent child! you wish, then, that your child should, like yourself, continue still in error. juan. _o mother, mother, may i not remain? and must these moors, then, carry me away?_ mother. _with thee, my child, they rob me of my treasures._ juan. o, i am much afraid! mother. 'tis i, my child, who ought to fear at seeing thee depart. thou wilt forget thy god, me, and thyself. what else can i expect from thee, abandoned at such a tender age, amongst a people full of deceit and all iniquity? crier. _silence, you villainous woman! if you would not have your head pay for what your tongue has done._ [footnote : this translation is borrowed from sismondi's literature of the south of europe, by roscoe, vol. iii. p. . there is a letter of "john dunton, mariner," addressed to the english admiralty in , which might furnish the foundation of a similar scene. "for my only son," he says, "is now a slave in algier, and but ten years of age, and like to be lost forever, without god's great mercy and the king's clemency, which, i hope, may be in some manner obtained."--osborne's voyages, vol. ii. p. .] from this scene we gladly avert the countenance, while, from the bottom of our hearts, we send our sympathies to the unhappy sufferers. fain would we avert their fate; fain would we destroy the system of slavery, that has made them wretched and their masters cruel. and yet we would not judge with harshness an algerine slave owner. he has been reared in a religion of slavery; he has learned to regard christians, "guilty of a skin not colored like his own," as lawful prey; and has found sanctions for his conduct in the injunctions of the koran, in the custom of his country, and in the instinctive dictates of an imagined self-interest. it is, then, the "peculiar institution" which we are aroused to execrate, rather than the algerine slave masters, who glory in its influence, and, so perfect is their misery, not once perceive their foul disfigurement, but boast themselves more comely than before. but there is reason to believe that the sufferings of the white slaves were not often greater than is the natural incident of slavery. there is an important authority which presents this point in an interesting light. it is that of general eaton, for some time consul of the united states at tunis, and whose name is not without note in the painful annals of war. in a letter to his wife, dated at tunis, april , , and written amidst opportunities of observation such as few have enjoyed, he briefly describes the condition of this unhappy class, illustrating it by a comparison less flattering to our country than to barbary. "many of the christian slaves," he says, "have died of grief, and the others linger out a life less tolerable than death. alas! remorse seizes my whole soul, when i reflect that this is, indeed, a copy of the very barbarity which my eyes have seen in my own native country. and yet we boast of liberty and national justice. how frequently have i seen in the southern states of our own country weeping mothers leading guiltless infants to the sales with as deep anguish as if they led them to the slaughter, and yet felt my bosom tranquil in the view of these aggressions upon defenceless humanity! but when i see the same enormities practised upon beings whose complexion and blood claim kindred with my own, i curse the perpetrators, and weep over the wretched victims of their rapacity. _indeed, truth and justice demand from me the confession that the christian slaves among the barbarians of africa are treated with more humanity than the african slaves among the professing christians of civilized america_; and yet here sensibility bleeds at every pore for the wretches whom fate has doomed to slavery."[ ] [footnote : eaton's life, p. .] such testimony would seem to furnish a decisive standard or measure of comparison by which to determine the character of white slavery in the barbary states. but there are other considerations and authorities. one of these is the influence of the religion of these barbarians. travellers remark the generally kind treatment bestowed by mohammedans upon slaves.[ ] the lash rarely, if ever, lacerates the back of the female; the knife or branding iron is not employed upon any human being to mark him as the property of his fellow-man. nor is the slave doomed, as in other countries, where the christian religion is professed, to unconditional and perpetual service, without prospect of _redemption_. hope, the last friend of misfortune, may brighten his captivity. he is not so walled around by inhuman institutions as to be inaccessible to freedom. "and unto such of your slaves," says the koran, in words worthy of adoption in the legislation of christian countries, "as desire a written instrument, allowing them to redeem themselves on paying a certain sum, write one, if ye know good in them, and give them of the riches of god, which he hath given you."[ ] thus from the koran, which ordains slavery, come lessons of benignity to the slave; and one of the most touching stories in mohammedanism is of the generosity of ali, the companion of the prophet, who, after fasting for three days, gave his whole provision to a captive not more famished than himself.[ ] [footnote : wilson's travels, p. ; edinburgh review, vol. xxxviii. p. ; noah's travels, p. ; quarterly review, vol. xv. p. ; shaler's sketches of algiers, p. .] [footnote : sale's koran, chap. , vol. ii. p. . the right of redemption was recognized by the gentoo laws. halhed's code, cap. , § , . it was unknown in the british west indies while slavery existed there. stephens on west india slavery, vol. ii. pp. - . it is also unknown in the slave states of our country.] [footnote : sales's koran, vol. ii. p. , note.] such precepts and examples doubtless had their influence in algiers. it is evident, from the history of the country, that the prejudice of race did not so far prevail as to stamp upon the slaves and their descendants any indelible mark of exclusion from power and influence. it often happened that they arrived at eminent posts in the state. the seat of the deys, more than once, was filled by humble christian captives, who had tugged for years at the oar.[ ] [footnote : haedo, _historia de argel_, p. ; quarterly review, vol. xv. pp. , ; shaler's sketches of algiers, p. ; short account of algiers, pp. , . it seems to have been supposed, that, according to the koran, the condition of slavery ceased when the party became a mussulman. penny cyclopædia, art. _slavery_; noah's travels, p. ; shaler's sketches, p. . in point of fact, freedom generally followed conversion; but i do not find any injunction on the subject in the koran.] nor do we feel, from the narratives of captives and of travellers, that the condition of the christian slave was rigorous beyond the ordinary lot of slavery. "the captive's story" in don quixote fails to impress the reader with any peculiar horror of the life from which he had escaped. it is often said that the sufferings of cervantes were among the most severe which even algiers could inflict.[ ] but they did not repress the gayety of his temper; and we learn that in the building where he was confined there was a chapel or oratory, in which mass was celebrated, the sacrament administered, and sermons regularly preached by captive priests.[ ] nor was this all. the pleasures of the theatre were enjoyed by these slaves; and the farces of lopé de rueda, a favorite spanish dramatist of the time, served, in actual representation, to cheer this house of bondage.[ ] [footnote : _de los peores que en argel auia._ haedo, _historia de argel_, p. ; navarrete, _vida de cervantes_, p. .] [footnote : roscoe's life of cervantes, p. .] [footnote : _baños de argel._] the experience of the devoted portuguese ecclesiastic, father thomas, illustrates this lot. a slave in morocco, he was able to minister to his fellow-slaves, and to compose a work on the passion of jesus christ, which has been admired for its unction, and translated into various tongues. at last liberated through the intervention of the portuguese ambassador, he chose to remain behind, notwithstanding the solicitations of relatives at home, that he might continue to instruct and console the unhappy men, his late companions in bonds.[ ] [footnote : _biographie universelle_, art. thomas de jesus; digby's board stone of honor, tancredus, § , p. .] even the story of st. vincent de paul, so brutally sold in the public square, is not without its gleams of light. he was bought by a fisherman, who was soon constrained to get rid of him, "having nothing so contrary except the sea." he then passed into the hands of an old man, whom he pleasantly describes as a chemical doctor, a sovereign maker of quintessences, very humane and kind, who had labored for the space of fifty years in search of the philosopher's stone. "he loved me much," says the fugitive slave, "and pleased himself by discoursing to me of alchemy, and then of his religion, to which he made every effort to draw me, promising me riches and all his wisdom." on the death of this master, he passed to a nephew, by whom he was sold to still another person, a renegade from nice, who took him to the mountains, where the country was extremely hot and desert. a turkish wife of the renegade becoming interested in him, and curious to know his manner of life at home, visited him daily at his work in the fields, and listened with delight to the slave, away from his country and the churches of his religion, as he sang the psalm of the children of israel in a foreign land: "by the rivers of babylon there we sat down; yea, we wept when we remembered zion."[ ] [footnote : _biographie universelle_, art. vincent de paul.] [illustration] the kindness of the slave master often appears. the english merchant abraham brown, whose sale at sallee has been already described, makes known, in his memoirs, that, after he had been carried to the house of his master, his wounds were tenderly washed and dressed by his master's wife, and "indeed the whole family gave him comfortable words." he was furnished with a mat to lie on, "and some three or four days after provided with a shirt, such a one as it was, a pair of shoes, and an old doublet." his servile toils troubled him less than "being commanded by a negro man, who had been a long time in his patron's house a freeman, at whose beck and command he was obliged to be obedient for the doing of the least about the house or mill;" and he concludes his lament on this degradation as follows: "thus i, who had commanded many men in several parts of the world, must now be commanded by a negro, who, with his two countrywomen in the house, scorned to drink out of the water pot i drank of, whereby i was despised of the despised people of the world."[ ] [footnote : ms. memoirs.] at a later day we are furnished with another authentic picture. captain braithwaite, who accompanied the british minister to morocco in , in order to procure the liberation of the british captives, after describing their comfortable condition, adds, "i am sure we saw several captives who lived much better in barbary than ever they did in their own country. whatever money in charity was sent them by their friends in europe was their own, unless they defrauded one another, which has happened much oftener than by the moors. several of them are rich, and many have carried considerable sums out of the country, to the truth of which we are all witnesses. several captives keep their mules, and some their servants; and yet this is called insupportable slavery among turks and moors. but we found this, as well as many other things in this country, strangely misrepresented."[ ] [footnote : braithwaite's revolutions in morocco, p. .] these statements--which, to those who do not place freedom above all price, may seem, at first view, to take the sting even from slavery--are not without support from other sources. colonel keatinge, who, as a member of a diplomatic mission from england, visited morocco in , says of this evil there, that "it is very slightly inflicted, and as to any labor undergone, it does not deserve the name;"[ ] while mr. lemprière, who was in the same country not long afterwards, adds, "to the disgrace of europe, the moors treat their slaves with humanity."[ ] in tripoli, we are told, by a person for ten years a resident, that the same gentleness prevailed. "it is a great alleviation to our feelings," says the writer, speaking of the slaves, "to see them easy and well dressed, and, so far from wearing chains, as captives do in most other places, they are perfectly at liberty."[ ] we have already seen the testimony of general eaton with regard to slavery in tunis; while mr. noah, one of his successors in the consulate of the united states at that place, says, "in tunis, from my observation, the slaves are not severely treated; they are very useful, and many of them have made money."[ ] and mr. shaler, describing the chief seat of christian slavery, says, "in short, there were slaves who left algiers with regret."[ ] [footnote : keatinge's travels, p. ; quarterly review, vol. xv. p. . see also chenier's present state of morocco, vol. i. p. ; ii. p. .] [footnote : lemprière's tour, p. . see also pp. , , , .] [footnote : narrative of ten years' residence at tripoli, p. .] [footnote : noah's travels, p. .] [footnote : shaler's sketches, p. .] a french writer of more recent date asserts with some vehemence, and with the authority of an eye witness, that the christian slaves at algiers were not exposed to the miseries which they represented. i do not know that he vindicates their slavery, but, like captain braithwaite, he evidently regards many of them as better off than they would be at home. according to him, they were well clad and well fed, _much better than the free christians there_. the youngest and most comely were taken as pages by the dey. others were employed in the barracks; others in the galleys; but even here there was a chapel, as in the time of cervantes, for the free exercise of the christian religion. those who happened to be artisans, as carpenters, locksmiths, and calkers, were let to the owners of vessels. others were employed on the public works; while others still were allowed the privilege of keeping a shop, in which their profits were sometimes so large as to enable them at the end of a year to purchase their ransom. but these were often known to become indifferent to freedom, and to prefer algiers to their own country. the slaves of private persons were sometimes employed in the family of their master, where their treatment necessarily depended much upon his character. if he were gentle and humane, their lot was fortunate; they were regarded as children of the house. if he were harsh and selfish, then the iron of slavery did, indeed, enter their souls. many were bought to be sold again for profit into distant parts of the country, where they were doomed to exhausting labor; in which event their condition was most grievous. but special care was bestowed upon all who became ill--not so much, it is admitted, from humanity as through fear of losing them.[ ] [footnote : _histoire d'alger: description de ce royaume, etc., de ses forces de terre et de mer, moeurs et costumes des habitans, des mores, des arabes, des juifs, des chrétiens, de ses lois, etcs._ (paris, ,) chap. .] but, whatever deductions may be made from the familiar stories of white slavery in the barbary states,--admitting that it was mitigated by the genial influence of mohammedanism,--that the captives were well clad and well fed, much better than the free christians there,--that they were allowed opportunities of christian worship,--that they were often treated with lenity and affectionate care,--that they were sometimes advanced to posts of responsibility and honor,--and that they were known, in their contentment or stolidity, to become indifferent to freedom,--still the institution or custom is hardly less hateful in our eyes. slavery in all its forms, even under the mildest influences, is a wrong and a curse. no accidental gentleness of the master can make it otherwise. against it reason, experience, the heart of man, all cry out. "disguise thyself as thou wilt, still, slavery! thou art a bitter draught! and though thousands in all ages have been made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that account." algerine slavery was a violation of the law of nature and of god. it was a usurpation of rights not granted to man. o execrable son, so to aspire above his brethren, to himself assuming authority usurped, from god not given! he gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, dominion absolute; that right we hold by his donation; but man over men he made not lord, such title to himself reserving, human left from human free.[ ] such a relation, in defiance of god, could not fail to accumulate disastrous consequences upon all in any way parties to it; for injustice and wrong are fatal alike to the doer and the sufferer. it is notorious that, in algiers, it exerted a most pernicious influence on master as well as slave. the slave was crushed and degraded, his intelligence abased, even his love of freedom extinguished. the master, accustomed from childhood to revolting inequalities of condition, was exalted into a mood of unconscious arrogance and self-confidence, inconsistent with the virtues of a pure and upright character. unlimited power is apt to stretch towards license; and the wives and daughters of christian slaves were often pressed to be the concubines of their algerine masters.[ ] [footnote : paradise lost, book xii. - .] [footnote : noah's travels, p. , ; quarterly review, vol. xv. p. . among the concubines of a prince of morocco were two slaves of the age of fifteen, one of english, and the other of french extraction. lemprière's tour, p. . there is an account of the fate of "one mrs. shaw, an irish woman," in words hardly polite enough to be quoted. she was swept into the harem of muley ishmael, who "forced her to turn moor;" "but soon after, having taken a dislike to her, he gave her to a soldier."--braithwaite's morocco, p. .] it is well, then, that it has passed away! the barbary states seem less barbarous, when we no longer discern this cruel oppression! but the story of slavery there is not yet all told. while the barbary states received white slaves by sea, stolen by corsairs, they also, from time immemorial, imported black slaves from the south. over the vast, illimitable sea of sand, in which is absorbed their southern border,--traversed by camels, those "ships of the desert,"--were brought those unfortunate beings, as merchandise, with gold dust and ivory, doomed often to insufferable torments, while cruel thirst parched the lips, and tears vainly moistened the eyes. they also were ravished from their homes, and, like their white brethren from the north, compelled to taste of slavery. in numbers they have far surpassed their christian peers. but for long years no pen or voice pleaded their cause; nor did the christian nations--professing a religion which teaches universal humanity, without respect of persons, and sends the precious sympathies of neighborhood to all who suffer, even at the farthest pole--ever interfere in any way in their behalf. the navy of great britain, by the throats of their artillery, argued the freedom of all _fellow-christians_, without distinction of _nation_; but they heeded not the slavery of other brethren in bonds--mohammedans or idolaters, children of the same father in heaven. lord exmouth did but half his work. in confining the stipulation to the abolition of christian slavery only, this abolitionist made a discrimination, which, whether founded on religion or color, was selfish and unchristian. here, again, was the same inconsistency which darkened the conduct of charles the fifth, and has constantly recurred throughout the history of this outrage. forgetful of the brotherhood of the race, christian powers have deemed the slavery of blacks just and proper, while the slavery of whites has been branded as unjust and sinful. [illustration] as the british fleet sailed proudly from the harbor of algiers, bearing its emancipated white slaves, and the express stipulation, that christian slavery was abolished there forever, it left behind in bondage large numbers of blacks, distributed throughout all the barbary states. neglected thus by exclusive and unchristian christendom, it is pleasant to know that their lot is not always unhappy. in morocco, negroes are still detained as slaves; but the prejudice of color seems not to prevail there. they have been called "the grand cavaliers of this part of barbary."[ ] they often become the chief magistrates and rulers of cities.[ ] they constituted the body guard of several of the emperors, and, on one occasion at least, exercised the prerogative of the prætorian cohorts, in dethroning their master.[ ] if negro slavery still exists in this state, it has little of the degradation connected with it elsewhere. into algiers france has already carried the benign principle of law--earlier recognized by her than by the english courts[ ]--which secures freedom to all beneath its influence. and now we are cheered anew by the glad tidings recently received, that the bey of tunis, "for the glory of god, and to distinguish man from the brute creation," has decreed the total abolition of human slavery throughout his dominions. [footnote : braithwaite's morocco, p. . see also quarterly review, vol. xv. p. .] [footnote : braithwaite, p. .] [footnote : ibid. p. .] [footnote : somersett's case, first declaring this principle, was decided in . m. schoell says, that "this fine maxim has always obtained" in france.--_histoire abrégée des traités de paix_, tom. xi. p. . by the royal ordinance , it was declared, that "all men are born free (_francs_) by nature; and that the kingdom of the french (_francs_) should be so in reality as in name." but this "fine maxim" was not recognized in france so completely as m. schoell asserts. see encyclopédie, (de diderot et de d'alembert,) art. _esclavage_.] let us, then, with hope and confidence, turn to the barbary states! the virtues and charities do not come singly. among them is a common bond, stronger than that of science or knowledge. let one find admission, and a goodly troop will follow. nor is it unreasonable to anticipate other improvements in states which have renounced a long-cherished system of white slavery, while they have done much to abolish or mitigate the slavery of others not white, and to overcome the inhuman prejudice of color. the christian nations of europe first declared, and practically enforced, within their own european dominions, the vital truth of freedom, that man cannot hold property in his brother man. algiers and tunis, like saul of tarsus, have been turned from the path of persecution, and now receive the same faith. algiers and tunis now help to plead the cause of freedom. such a cause is in sacred fellowship with all those principles which promote the progress of man. and who can tell that this despised portion of the globe is not destined to yet another restoration? it was here in northern africa that civilization was first nursed, that commerce early spread her white wings, that christianity was taught by the honeyed lips of augustine. all these are again returning to their ancient home. civilization, commerce, and christianity once more shed their benignant influences upon the land to which they have long been strangers. a new health and vigor now animate its exertions. like its own giant antæus,--whose tomb is placed by tradition among the hillsides of algiers,--it has been often felled to the earth, but it now rises with renewed strength, to gain yet higher victories. [illustration] * * * * * [transcribers' note: delivered as a lecture before the boston mercantile library association, february , ; this illustrated version published in .--spelling varieties as in "stanch" (staunch) have been maintained.--this text uses _underscores_ to indicate italic fonts.]