Spohoese treme ee srs ne ae eS SSSESS5Ss= Saterepe pete: Serrerret peat neti yi hi Tibial Mea if idee ah} University of Iinois Library at Urbana-Champaign Oar ocirect $e OFFERIMUS “SS = TIBI DOMINE v CALICEM SALUTARIS 7 a SO) EX il BRIS 1S! SEMINARY OF ST. MARY OF THE LAKE 224 ot bial a 7? 7 iy + ath ~ Fs é ( ov Do Pai ¢ — S 1 ‘a + a "| ivy Wer hy { Bs: At is aye ee ak: 1 Ae wt ar we 5 PRYED Pee ae ee = Mier: Va 4 UD NGG Fai His! VOYAGES AND TRAVELS OR SCENES IN MANY LANDS WITH EIGHT HUNDRED AND FIFTY ILLUSTRATIONS ON WOOD AND STEEL OF Peer ee ROMAALE PARTS (OF THE WORLD COMPRISING MOUNTAINS, LAKES, RIVERS, PALACES, CATHEDRALS, CASTLES, ABBEYS, AND RUINS WITH ORIGINAL DESCRIPTIONS BY THE BEST AUTHORS EDITED BY EROGDESCOUDANGE, LAD. EDITOR OF THE NATIONAL ENCYCLOPEDIA AND ZELL’s POPULAR ENCYCLOPEDIA AND DICTIONARY, ETC, VOLUME II. BOSTON EeWia A Lick RR. & CO, ° : ; 0 ; ‘ yey # Chat 3 : Ly ~~ F 4 : 4 : . . fe : = < ‘ - et: ' j + : 4 - *y mo 2 . apes , See J . A | 2 | | i < 75 Sy fo : ‘ * td ; : , : 4 © Sea & : oe pec; = ‘ fee} . * : ¢ - ‘ > + : ‘ 3 ; Vetere | " po A * 4 »J f d ~ , ; a. - 4 A . ‘4 » ‘ \ ’ ° » - ; x * P= a : . % : Z 2 - ° r ii a ~ . oa p , a J rvs " _ ' z art é : . f re TABLE OF CONTENTS. CSP RUNUEES MeL —++£ goto 3e-_____— NorTHERN PROVINCES OF PORTUGAL, WESTERN AFRICA, NORTHERN AFRICA, THE NILE, EASTERN AFRICA, MADAGASCAR AND MAURITIUS, CONSTANTINOPLE AND Astatic TURKEY, NINEVEH AND BABYLON, PERSIA, INDIA, Inpo-CuIna, AUSTRALIA, CHINA, JAPAN, Sanpwicn Isuanns, CALIFORNIA AND THE MExIco, : : CuBA, GUIANA AND BRaAzIiu, PERU, ; : : Norway, . DENMARK, POLAND, : ° Rocky MounrTarys, THe GERMAN EMPIRE, . : : Down THE RHINE, GREAT BRITAIN, THe UNITED STATEs, LIST OF STEEL PLATES AND PHOTOGRAVURES. V OG USLE i Facing Refers to Page Page Facing Refers to Page Page =. The City of Hereford .. : : . 498,495 The City of Worcester : . : 458 498 National Capitol, Washington (Frontispiece) The Azure Cliffs of Green River, Colorado 290 290 ~ Palace of Fredericksborg, Denmark 368 368 The City of Peterborough : 506 510 The Liebethaler Glen 386 396 The Mouth of the Yare 512-541 The Port, Hamburg 396. ~ 398 Yarmouth Quay, from the Bridge 516 512 The Market-place, Hamburg . 400 401 Carrow Bridge, Norwich 464 5138 Town Hall, Bremen 406 401 Devil’s Tower, King Street, Norwich 470 =514 The Castle of Falkenstein 408 408 The Ferry, Close, Norwich . 475 ole Bridge at the Entrance of Oker Thal AI2 = 416 Bishops’ Bridge, Norwich , . 490 = 515 Hameln 4160: 417 Potswick Grove . ; ; 524 515 The Porta Westfalica 420 418 Shipmeadow Lock pas yee 528 516 Karlshafen 426 420 The City of Winchester 5384 537 The Upper Rhine : ; ; 434 435 Franconia Notch, White Mountains 540 539 ‘The Middle Bridge in the Via Mala 434 436 | Memorial Hall, Cambridge 170 540 Rheineck 438 436 View of Albany 5 544 39544 Ruins of Stolzenfels 442 445 A Distant View of Schenectady j 548 544 View of Coblentz 439 e440 ‘Trinity Church, Boston 166 544 Tower near Andernach . 21 ; 442 447 Harper’s Ferry, from the Blue Ridge . 564 564 — State Capitol, Hartford : 4 A 484 484 Natural Bridge, Virginia 5 : 568 568 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. VOLUME IL. — I PAGE View of Oporto, . 3 | Karnak. Hypostyle Hall, . 7 Barcellos, : - 4 | Medinet. Court of Rhamses, The Castle of Guimaraés, 7 | Court of the Colossi, Cathedral of Guimaraés, 8 | Medinet. Temple Palace of imines IIL, Portal of the Chapter House, 11 | Hermonthis, : ‘ Tomb in the Interior of the Conventual Chirah, 12 | Kom-Ombos, i View of the Conventual Church, 13 | The Temple of Isis, Doorway of the Chapel. Batalha, 15 | Phile. Colonnade, . Castle of Pintra de Cintra, 17 | Beghieh, Gate of the Castle of Pintra de Cintra, i8 | Khartas, . Mafra, 19 | Maharakka, . Tower of Belem, : ; 20 | Murchison’s Falls of He Nile, Doorway of Santa Maria. Belem, 21 | Khor of Desset, View of the City of Morocco, 25 | Rock near Kassala, Moorish Cemetery in Morocco, 26 | Lake Tana, . View of St. Louis, 27 | Cascade of Antona Rirkor. ; Bakel, 28 | Ruined Castle of Guizoara, on the ngads eee no, Cataract of eaaina: 29 | Zanzibar, Hombori Mountains, 30 | View in the Heart of (a Forest near the Senegal, 31 | Lake Tanganyika, Government House at Goree, . 2 | Victoria Falls, ‘ Interior Court of the Post-House at Grind Bhegate: 33 | Crossing a Chasm in Madaasear: Sacred Islands on Lake Jonanga, 34 | The Baobab Tree, Nemours, 37 | Chief’s Cabin at Tamatava, : Tlemcen, o9 | Port Louis: Quay, .. ; ° : Sidi-Bouisrak, 40 | Black River, : The Mosque of Bou- Médina, 41 | Natural Bridge, near Breneconre) : Door of the Mosque of Bou-Médina, 43 | Summer Parlor in the Seraglio, Fort of Géryville, . : : "45 | Interior of a Kiosque in the Seraglio, Oasis of Metlili, ; ; : ; 47 | Fountain in the Seraglio, . Bou-Alem, 48 | Nicomedia, . : ; Ouargla, 51 | The At-Meidan or ippodtone, Café at El area: 53 | Nicea. The Green Mosque, Bazaar in Tunis, 55 | Broussa. Sultan Bajazet’s Mosque, . Court of Lions at Bardo, 57 | Sardis. Ruins of a Church, Banks of the Medjerdab, 58 | Bas-relief of Sesostris, Remains of Roman Aqueduct, 59 | Ephesus, Ruins of the Temple of Zaghouan, 61 | Rhodes, : Ruins of the Amphitheatre of El-Djem, 63 | Gate of the Gr aa: Master’ s Palnas. Tripoli, : ‘ ; - : 66 | Church of our Lady of Victory, : Citadel of Tripoli, , : : : 67 | Priory of France, : E ; ; Egyptian Garden and Temple, . : : 71 | Jewish Street, . 5 A . 4 Egyptian Villa, . : : : . ° 73 | The Knights’ Barracks, 4 . ° Karnak. Exterior Wall, . . ° . . 75 | Mosque of Omar. Jerusalem, . ° PAGE 76 78 79 80 81 82 83 85 86 87 88 89 92 93 94 95 96 98 99 101 103 107 108 109 110 1A | 112 115 1 119 120 121 123 124 125 127 128 129 131 132 133 134 135 137 vi LLSd1 OF Aceldama, . : . ; : 4 Arab Fountain, Cascade in the Taurus, Trebizond Sea-shore, Fortifications of Trebizond, Erzeroum. Street Scene, Erzeroum. Tchifté Minaret, ‘ F Winged Bull from Nineveh, * Mosque of Iman-Moussa,_. F Akar-Kuf, Hanging Gardens of Babylon Birs Nimroud, Gate of Teheran, : : ; . The Shah’s Garden, . Minaret of Semnoon, : Interior Court of the } MoRHue of Tear Rare Ruins of Toos, Persian Pigeon House, The Golden Temple of Guiciisecs Tomb of Runjeet Sing, Dwelling-Houses in Srinagar, Buddhist Temple. Pandradar, . Dancing-Girl of Cashmere, Aladdin’s Gate. Delhi, Palace and Park of the Grand Mogul, Housseinabad Imambarra. Lucknow, Garden Gate of the Tj, The Taj. Agra, ; ; Facade of the Palace. Gwalior, The Mausoleum of Akbar, Palace of Copal Bhowan, Mausoleum. Ulwur, Golden Kiosque. Ambeer, Court of the Palace. Oudeypoor, Procession of a Mahratta Prince, Pagoda. Bombay, Native Cottages in Ceylon, Interior of the Pagoda. Madura, Pagoda. Seringham, . ; Interior Court, Palace at Tanjore, Mosque near Trichinopoly, Pagoda of Chillambaran, . Tank. Pagoda of Chillambaran, . Gopura. ‘Triputry, . Mausoleum. Golconda, ; Rock-hewn Temples. Mahayellipore, Rock-hewn Temples. Mahavellipore, Mosque. ‘Triplican, Car of Juggernaut, Mosque at Hoogly, Pagoda, near Kuttack, Gaurisankar, View in Indo-China, Grand Pagoda of Rangoon, Temple of Shwé-Zergoug. Pagan. Maha-Toolut-Boungyo, Maha-comiye-Peima, The Temple of Mengoun, Palace. Bangkok, Valley of the Irrawaddy, . PAGE 158 159 140 141 142 144 145 | 149 150 151 1538 oy 158 159 161 163 164 165 169 170 171 172 173 175 177 179 180 | 181 183 185 186 187 188 189 MED 9 193 194 195 Lode! 200 201 203 205 207 209 210 211 212 213 215 217 218 221 223 225 227 229 231 232 233 ILLUSTRATION: Royal Audience-Hall. Bangkok, Pagoda of Watt-Chang, Royal Recreations, Monkeys teasing a Crocodile, ; ; View at the Mouth of the River Laigon, . . The Cataract of Khon, : : F Angcor Wat, . ; : : : : : The Baion. Angcor Thom, . ; Australian Hut, : : - The Eucalyptus serving as a Bridge, . ‘ i Australian Vegetation, Australian Seacoast, . : : ee The River Murray ina Brasher, : : : English Legation, 3 ‘ : : : : Water View. Shanghai, . ; ; ; e Monastery Chapel, : French Legation, Mosque, Temple of Conan Porcelain Tower, . Imperial Garden. China, Japanese Residence, , Butterfly Ballet in a Theatre i in Y edd Street Scene in the Quarter of the Daimios, . Japanese Bazaar, . ; : : Ress Temple of Hatchiman, : - Belfry of Buddhist Temple, . : : English Legation, : : ; : Pali of Nuuanu, ‘ ; A Crater of Kilauea, Waves of Fire, ‘ : : : ? Lava Stream, ; : ; : - ‘ : View on the Plains, . : : 3 é The Grand Hotel at San Francisco, z S ‘ Chinese Quarter in San Francisco, . : The Cathedral, . : E : : ; The Yosemite Valley, : . , : : Nevada Fall, : : 4 - ; Giant Trees of California, : ; . - The Garden of the Gods, . : : . Long’s Peak, . ; . : x Road in British Golumnbiat Forest in British Columbia, : 4 ‘ Jesuit College. Santa Clara, ; ; ‘ Mission. Monterey, View near Vera Cruz, . : f 5 Vera Cruz, ‘ : A . 5 a Convent of La Maca P : = . The Alameda, . F < ‘ é 4 Castle of Chapultepec. : : ; : . Floating Gardens of Mexico, ° : . Ruins of Tlalmanalco, ; : Bas-relief of Tigers. Circus, Chi-chen, : North Fagade of the Nuns’ Palace. Chi-chen, Palace of the Nuns. Chi-chen, 3 North Fagade of the Nuns’ House. Uxmal, La Carcel. Chi-chen, . Details of the Fagade of the Governars 8 House at Uxmal, Mexican Garden, . ; : ? : . : PAGR 234 235 236 237 239 240 243 245 247 248 249 250 251 254 255 256 257 258 259 266 261 263 265 267 269 270 271 273 275 271 278 279 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 292 293 294 295. 297 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311 Oh OOP ILLUSTRATIONS. Avenue of Palms, . : ; F Havana, z , Natural Forest. Cuba, Cayenne, Jesuit Mission, Road near Cayenne, Cascade on the Rosota, Falls of the Rio Negro, View on the Rio Negro, Mouth of the Sagnassou, : Avenue of Palms in the Botanic Cacia, Paseo Publico, Peruvian River, : Mountain near Huaro, . ; ‘ Hacienda of Lauramarca, The Gate of the Cordilleras, - The Cerro Escopal, Rio Cadena, . Valley of the Mernonats: : Rio Cuchua, Rio Maniri, Machu-Condoroma, Rio Ceofi, Rio de Condoroma, Cailloma la Rica, Basalt Dikes on the Velille, Rio Apurimac, Source of the Rete anolis; : : r Gorge of the Huarancalqui, ° . Lazaretto. Christiansand, . “ . The Riukan Falls, . & A A The Voring Fos, . : , ° ° The Fladal, : 3 : 5 The Naero Fiord, : 4 : : The Heimdal, . : : A : The Church at Bakke, . : : The Romsdal, . . ‘ - fe Veblungsnaeset, . : ; : : The Fiord of Framnaes, Scene in Denmark, The Exchange. Copenhagen, View of Copenhagen, The Palace of Rosenborg, Amac Market, and House of Piyooke, : - Portico of the Frue Kirke, Frue Kirke, Interior, Cathedral of Roskilde, Palace of Fredericksborg, . ; : Chateau of Egeskow, : : : Chateau of Loyenborg, : ; . Chateau of Glorup, . Chateau of Rygaard, Forest in Poland, : Church of the Holy Cross. Chateau of Lazienski, Park of Lazienski, : View in the Suburbs of Heriine: : Warsaw, The Palace in Berlin, . d : . Bird-House. Zodlogical Gardens, . The National Gallery, . ‘ ; ° PAGE 314 315 317 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336 387 338 339 340 341 342 343 .. d44 345 348 349 350 351 352 353 354 355 356 307 359 360 361 362 363 364 | 365 366 367 368 368 | 369 371 372 373 374 375 377 378 379 Snake House. Zodlogical Gardens, Grotto. Sans-Souci, Colonnade. Sans-Souci, Sans-Souci, Franciscan Cloister. Franciscan Cloister. Franciscan Cloister. Franciscan Cloister. North-east Corner of Inner Courtyard, . City Gate, Town Hall. Town Hall. The Arsenal, Town Hall. Brieg, Old Bridge. Dresden, Forest Road in the Giant Rr enteriie? Zwinger. Dresden, Grand-Ducal Castle. Kiel, Ploen, . a P Jews’ Street. Hamburg, - Canal in Hamburg, : : Interior of Cathedral. Magdeburg, Town Hall. Halberstadt, Cloister of Cathedral. Halberstadt, Cathedral. Halberstadt, Church. Quedlinburg, Castle of Regenstein, The Pool in Bode Valley, The Devil’s Bridge in the Bode Valley, The Rosstreppe, ; ‘ ‘ The Witches’ Ball-Room, Hermit’s Rocks, The Monk, Dantzic, East Corridor, Breslau, . Dantzic, Dantzic, Schwerin, Wernigerode, Town Hall. The Brocken, ; Luther’s House. Eisenach, The Wartburg, ; Luther’s Room in the Ween The Marienglashohle, The Anna Valley, The Thorstein Rocks, Cathedral. Erfurt, Goethe’s Promenade. Castle of Coburg, Coburg, Bamberg, Mayence, Frankfort-on-the- pitas Riidesheim, . Weimar, _ Bacharach, 370 Kaub and the Pfalz, _ Ehrenbreitstein, Godesbureg, . : The Cathedral of alone: St. Martin’s Church, | English Oak, | Teignmouth, Dartmouth, - Plymouth, . : ; . Refectory, East Section, Refectory, West Section Vil PAGE 380 381 382 383 384 385 386 387 388 388 389 390 390 391 392 393 394 395 397 397 399 400 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412 413 414 415 419 420 421 422 423 424 425 427 429 430 431 438 438 44] 443 444 446 448 451 453 455 456 457 458 vili LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE Devonport, Z : : ’ : : . 460 Tavistock, ; . : : ; = P 461 Fowey, ; . : ; ‘ ; : - 462 Truro, 5 5 . ° ° . ; ; 463 Falmouth, . : : ° ; : ; . 464 Lizard Point, . ° : . ° ; 465 Kyance Cove, ; ¢ . 5 ; : . 466 Penzance, ; - : ‘ 5 467 St. Michael’s Morne ; F : : ; ~ 469 Logan Rock, . + Stang ° : ; : 471 Land’s End, : . : 4 2 , ease Cape Cornwall, : ; : : ; - 473 Botallack Mine, . ‘ : Z vIna-a Coast between Tintagel and Bosonatles ; : 476 St. Ives, : ; ; : ; & ATG The Avon at Besta ; : : : ‘ 479 Mouth of the Avon, . : $ 2 : . 480 Chepstow Castle, . : ° : : : 481 Raglan Castle, . , ‘ ; : : . 482 Viaduct of Crumlin, ; : : , : 483 Newport, . : : ° 5 ‘ ; . 484 Milford, . a 5 : Ps : F : 485 Carnarvon Castle. Exterior, : ‘. : . 486 Carnarvon Castle. Interior, . - ‘ : 487 Llyn Gwynant and Merlin’s Fort, . : . 488 Pont Aberglaslyn, . ; : . bs : 489 St. John’s Church. Chester, , ; : - 490 Edinburgh Castle, . : : ° - : 491 Holyrood Chapel, ‘ : , ; : « 493 Lincoln Cathedral, . : 3 . : 494 Haddon Hall, ; ; : ° ; < - 495 Dorothy Vernon’s Terrace, : ° ° ‘ 496 Courtyard. Haddon Hall, . 3 é : .> 497 Aquarium of the Victoria Regia. Chatsworth, 498 Shrewsbury, : : : : - : » 2499 Warwick Castle, : ee : ; F 501 Kenilworth Castle, ae 8 é ; : Ae sO Chatsworth, . : 5 ; 4 - ern 910751 Shakespeare’s Tomb, . ; 7 : : . 506 Blenheim, : J . : : : 509 The Park of See ; - : : : e010 The Tower of London, . ; 4 : : 516 Westminster Abbey, . ~. : ° “ eenbl St. Thomas’ Hospital, . ; : 3 : 518 | St. James’ Park. London, . 7 ‘ ; - old Kensington Gardens. London, - : ; 521 Latania Borbonica, : ‘ é i ‘ “pas Cedar. Kew Gardens, . ‘ a é 523 Cyathea Dealbata, : : , ; : . 524 Interior of Hot-House. Kew, - : 4 525 Auraucaria Imbricata. Kew, "4 ‘ View from Richmond Hill, Palm-House. Kew, Hampton Court, Bird’s-eye View of Henin Carri Hampton Court. Wolsey’s Palace, Hampton Court. First Courtyard, Windsor Castle, : Cascades. Virginia Water: ‘ West Wycombe Park, ; : « . West Wilton Park, The Glen, : : , 3 , é ‘ - Old Mill. Medford, ; Harvard College. Cambridge, . Cradock Mansion. Medford, Near Calicoon, on the Erie Railway, East and West Branches of the Delaware, The Starucea Viaduct, Watkins’ Glen, Portage Falls and Bridge, Portage Falls and Bridge, Havana Glen, Prospect Point. American Fall, Little Glen Iris Falls, Flatboating on the Susquehanna, The Alleghany at Freeport, Whirlpool Rapids below Niagara, Sinking Spring, near Tyrone, Iise the Pack-saddle,” Horse-shoe Curve. tlashang Mountnnen The J uniata, Chester. Pennsylvania, Horticultural Hall. Centennial Grousties Phila. - Main Building. Centennial Grounds, Phila., Memorial Hall. Laurel Hill, Bridge near Fairmount, . Wild Cat Glen, y The Delaware Water Gap, Conemaugh Viaduct, Scene on the St. Augustine Bye At Mill Creek, Gold-Washing in the Sigma Narada In Jack’s Narrows, : Planting the Flag on the Beers Monstatees Mining in Colorado, : ‘ Crossing the Rocky Mountains, : Tail-Piece. . . 3 A , : Niagara, Florida, Centennial Grounds, Phila., . moOYAGES AND TRAVELS; OR, See NSN eWANY LANDS. WO WMH “TT NORTHERN PROVINCES OF PORTUGAL. AVING finished our excursion to Toledo, we returned to Madrid, and after spending a few days in visiting its galleries, and the works of the ancient masters contained therein, we determined to join a party that were about starting for a tour through Portugal. It was decided ] O ai = ~ : SS i) 6 NT MM AS TA % IN A ; r INZINY 4 INIZINWINA J art = Ss y » OLE JRE Sy” i y SS 6 { Y (os , K > fe eA se K A that we should depart from Madrid, and, taking a northwest course, proceed to Vigo. The kingdom of Portugal is a mere offset of the Spanish mon- archy: under the name of Lusitania it was a province of Roman Spain; in later. days it shared with that country the ravages of the Suevi and the Visigoths, and, still later, was overrun and occupied by the Moors. Karly in the eleventh century, Henry of Burgundy, for the very impor- tant services which he had rendered to Alfonso VI. of Castile, obtained the. hand of his daughter, with the government and possession of all the lands in Portugal, whence he had expelled the Moors, and which were erected into an hereditary earldom. The son of this marriage, the brave Alfonso Henriquez, who succeeded his father in 1112, —having obtained a miraculous victory over five Moorish kings on the plains of Ourique, — was proclaimed, by the unanimous voice of his troops, King of Portugal. To this country, then, whose birth was so romantic, and whose destiny it was at one time to be mistress of both Indies, and the mother of Brazil, we hasten with expectant steps. It was about six in the evening when we caught our first view of Vigo. It is scarcely possible to conceive a more lovely scene than was presented to us as our carriage took its 1 9 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. course towards the town. The mountains which surround the bay were illumined with the soft and mellow light of the declining sun; the waters were calm and smooth as those of an inland lake. Villages and churches were to be seen here and there on the shore, while in a corner towards the south-east, and extending from the base of a lofty hill some way up its side, appeared Vigo itself, glittering with its houses of white, surmounted by its venerable castle, and forming one of the most prominent objects of the whole view. There are not many objects of curiosity in Vigo. It contains about six thou- sand inhabitants, is a lively town, beautifully situated, and, as was to be expected, quite of a continental character. It recalled forcibly to our mind some of the pic- tures in Rogers’s “Italy,” and the scenes described in the opening chapter of Manzoni’s “Promessi Sposi.” One lane we walked through, in its immediate vicinity, enclosed by low walls of unshaped stone, might have been the very place along which Don Abbondio was going, reciting his office from the breviary, when he had his rencon- tre with the two brayi. The houses are generally white, but sometimes of a light blue. The streets are narrow. It abounds in beggars, and nobody in it seems to have anything to do. We partook of an early and excellent dinner at the Fonda, consisting of several courses, in the third and fourth of which fish was brought i, and immediately afterwards made preparations for our departure to Tuy, with the two gentlemen who had accompanied us from Madrid, as we were all desirous of reaching Oporto as soon as might be. We accordingly engaged four mules to carry our luggage, and four others to carry ourselves; and so, attended by the drivers of the former, set out on our journey. Tuy is about four leagues distant from Vigo. A league is usually reckoned about four English miles; but in Portugal this measure varies so much in length,— you will in fact hear of long leagues, and short leagues, and leagues without any qualifying epithet, — that, to be told of a distance in leagues, which, nevertheless, is the only measure with which the people are conversant, affords often a very indefinite idea of the ground to be actually passed over. We noticed, — however, that when the leagues were characterized as short, they frequently proved longer than usual. We did not reach Seixas until after three o’clock, and then we had to wait nearly two hours for our mules. These, however, at length arrived, and as soon as our baggage was packed upon those destined to convey it, we mounted the others, and set forward towards Vianna. There was a wildness and a grandeur in the scenes we had passed through, which, at any other time, would have struck us with admiration; but now, our only anxiety was to get on. We had no leisure for the magnificent, the sublime, or the picturesque; ; but on, on we proceeded, through mud and dirt, and wind and rain, and now also | through gloom and darkness. A weary way, indeed, it was. Anxiously did we look VIEW OF. OFORTO, s VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. out for the lights of Vianna long before we reached it, and were ready to think the farther we went the more it receded from us. At last, however, we entered it, nearly at midnight, and with feelings of exultation at the thought of being speedily and com- fortably housed. Vianna is prettily situated at the mouth of the Lima, having a population of about nine thousand, and is a port of some importance. The streets are somewhat narrow, but the houses in general appear of a better class than one usually meets in towns of the same size. There is little to be seen in Vianna, and as we had no time to lose, we immediately made arrangements for proceeding on our way. We engaged a Barcellos. muleteer to accompany us to Oporto, and three mules, — two for ourselves and one for our baggage, — and so left Vianna for Barcellos about three o’clock in the afternoon. The road to Barcellos is miserable — worse than the worst cross-country roads we had hitherto ever seen. Indeed, Portugal is noted for bad roads. One over which a car- riage can pass is a rarity. The high-roads are often so narrow that two persons can- not ride abreast on them; sometimes (and not unfrequently) they are so covered with mud that one quite pities the horses as they pass through it; sometimes they are more than ankle-deep in’ water, and sometimes paved with huge stones, which make the horses slip and stumble as if they were going every minute to fall, and seem designed to SCENES [IN MANY LANDS. 5 impede, as much as possible, the progress of man and beast, and whatever else passes over them. We did not reach Barcellos until the shades of evening had set in. It is beautifully situated on the Cayado, over which stands a venerable bridge (see page 4), connecting the portions of the town on the opposite banks. Over the bridge was passing a stream of people, in the various costumes of the country, whose appearance was rendered still more gay and striking by a sprinkling of red umbrellas, which are commonly used in this country, as a defence against the scorching sun, as well as the rain. The circumstance of a market being held in Barcellos during our stay there, gave us the opportunity of observing the national costumes of the peasantry and fishermen of the surrounding country. The dress of the men offers few peculiar features, and differs little from that of the peasantry of the south of France. In speaking of the dress of the ancient inhabitants of the peninsula, Strabo says that the Lusitanians wore black cloaks, on account of their sheep being principally of that hue. It is probably for the same reason that the clothes of the Portuguese of the present day are either brown or black. The costume of the women possesess a great deal of character. The skirt, with flat plaits, is short and sometimes drawn up through a girdle high enough to show more than half the leg, which is generally bare. The body of the dress, fas- tened across the chest with two or three silver buttons, fits close to the figure, and being separate from the skirt, allows the chemise to puff out around the waist. The sleeves, which are those of the chemise, are wide, and occasionally worn rolled up. The head-dress consists of a wide-brimmed hat of black felt, sometimes adorned with tufts, and nearly always wrapped round with the lengo, or white handkerchief, whose folds, falling over the neck and shoulders of the wearer, protect them from the sun. Long earrings, and sometimes gold necklaces and chains, complete this picturesque costume, of which yellow, red, and bright green are the predominating colors. The principal part of the town of Barcellos stands on the right bank of the river, which slopes considerably. The streets and houses are good. The population about four thousand. The road between Vianna and Oporto, for the greater part of the way, was much of the same character as what we had passed through the day before. As we approached Oporto, the passengers of course became more frequent. Our companion remarked that he thought the Portuguese were the ugliest people under the sun; and we could not help being ourself struck with their gypsy-like appearance and expres- sion of countenance. The Moors have left evident traces of their former occupation of the country, on both the style of its buildings and the features of its inhabitants. Oporto (see page 3) is a very fine and imposing city, situated on two granite hills on the north bank of the Douro. On the left bank of the river, connected with Oporto by a suspension bridge, is Villa-Nova de Gaia, the ancient Portus Cale. 6 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. The Cathedral and the Episcopal Palace overlook the town, while the Convent of Serra do Pilar, turned into a fortress by Dom Pedro in 1832, protects or keeps in order the suburbs. The port is crowded with shipping, bearing the flags of all nations. The streets running from the base to the summit of the hills are almost perpendic- ular, —regular stairs cut out of the solid rock; and the Douro almost disappears in the gloom into which it is thrown by the inaccessible hills that form its banks. The effect thus produced is, from a distance, most picturesque; but it is not improbable that the inhabitants would prefer a city easier to travel through, and even an artist would gladly yield a little of the unevenness of the ground for the sake of a little more national coloring, and have it less French, less English, and more Portuguese in its architecture. Oporto is, above all, a business city, and the water-side, the quays, the adjacent streets, particularly the “Rua Nova dos Inglezes,” where a kind of open- air exchange is held, are all devoted to commerce. The celebrated wines of the Douro, so well known to us under the name of “ port-wines,” are stored in Villa- Nova de Gaia, where are also in full operation many distilleries, tanneries, chemical factories, silk factories, &c. .The nobility, whose influence has considerably decreased since the fall of Dom Miguel, have their mansions grouped near the cathedral; the finest and best stores and shops are found in the “Rua das Flores,” a very agreeable lounge for people of leisure ; the money-changers and bankers have their offices in the “Largo da Feira,” and the sailors congregate by the water side, in the old part of the town, in dark, gloomy, and hardly accessible streets. Among the finest streets of Oporto, we must mention the “Rua Nova de San Joao,” the “ Rua St. Antonio,” the “Calgada dos Clerigos,” and the “Rua Nova dos Inglezes ;” the last abruptly terminated at one end by a perpendicular rock, crowned by the Cathedral and the extensive buildings of the Episcopal Palace. a On the plateau at the top of the hill, stands the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption, the picturesque tower of which serves as a landmark to ships making for the Douro. Oporto offers few monuments worthy of notice. The Church of St. Martinho da Cedofeita is worth but little attention for its architectural features, but is interesting as being, after the Cathedral of Braga, the oldest religious edifice in the country. it was here in the garden, or rather “quinta,” of one of our friends, that we gathered, for the first time in our life, a ripe orange from a tree which was bear- ing both fruit and flowers at the same time. This, however, is an ordinary circum-~ stance. The oranges of Oporto are somewhat coarse, far inferior to those of Lisbon; but the blossom is very beautiful, and its odor most fragrant and delicious. We had the opportunity to admire other magnificent flowers, but were told that the best, in this country, came out in winter. We had also an enchanting view of the river and the sea. It was truly a delightful spot, and seemed to realize all that one had read of the sunny lands of the south, and their sweet attractions. or SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 7 The banks of the Douro are most beautiful and romantic, and afford the people of Oporto many charming views from different parts of their city; while there are many sweet spots on it, a short distance off, to which they resort when they wish to enjoy a day’s pleasure, apart from the “crowd and hum of men.” We left Oporto with the muleteer who had accompanied us from Vianna. We had engaged him only to Oporto; but on arriving there, he proposed that we should extend the engagement; and as we had no reason to be dissatisfied with him, we fell in with. his proposal. We accordingly set out for Guimaraés, that we reached on the following day. Its situation is enchanting, in a circular amphitheatre, nes- tled among mountains, and it is historically one of the most famous cities in Portu- gal. Here Count Henry held his court when the country was as yet but an earldom; and in this place, was born his son, Alfonso Henriquez, surnamed “the Victorious,” ———— == = "B88 = = a = —— —=- SSS ————S ——s —— ss = <= ——S =— = = =—— i — i = — =| == = =—— = = == = = == = as : 4 a ===> = =e === hee ——— = — S = " c< st : Ss 2 <= : < eS aes wa ial = f ee = : Tiare, : ~ ny is ———> — ae : eS i ues mo — SS SS SSS SSS 2 oe Ss ——| eet = i ar te = = = ———— ree SS = = SS = = —— —— = Sas panels SSS SSS = ——— SS = = = —SSSaaSSS= = = “a = x The Castle of Guimaraés. who was its first king. The appearance of the city corresponds well with both the beauty of its position and its historical celebrity. Its streets are fair and wide; its buildings quaint and picturesque ; and even the very pavement, consisting principally of rude, irregular flag-stones, contributes to it a medieval character. The square in which our inn was situated is really worth describing. On the east, right opposite to us, was the Cathedral, a small but venerable structure of the fourteenth century; adjoining it, immediately in front, was a fountain, the very sight of which, besides being in such a climate agreeable and refreshing, carried us back to times of antiquity; at a short distance towards the south was a beautiful stone canopied market cross; whilst in a corner at the north-west, painted blue, surmounted by a cross and raised on a cloister, stood the Hotel de Ville. The houses, with their projecting roofs and balconied windows, were quite in harmony with the other buildings. It was one of the most frequented parts of the city, and yet an air of religious solemnity, by no means par- r 8 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. taking of gloom nor at all inconsistent with cheerfulness, seemed to pervade the whole scene, affording an apt illustration of the influence Christianity should exercise over the actions and pursuits of our daily life. We first went to the ruins of the Castle (see page 7), situated on- a rising ground near the town. ‘They are fine and interesting, but by no means extensive. We ascended the tower, and had a fine view, both of the city and the surrounding country. We next visited the Cathedral, dedicated to Nossa-Senhora da Oliveira, which we here present, a name due to a curious old legend. In the time of the Goths, Wamba was in the act of ploughing a field, and with the goad in his hand stimulated his oxen, when the delegates of <—= SS —- Sa Cathedral of Guimaraés. the nobility came to him to announce his accession to the throne. Surprised. and incredulous, Wamba, who had never thought of obtaining the crown, replied that he would be king when his goad, which he struck into the ground as he spoke, should bring forth leaves. By a wonderful effect of vegetation, or, rather, as the legend says, by the miraculous intervention of Heaven, the goad took root immediately, and was suddenly covered with branches, leaves, and fruit. The remembrance of this prodigy is not confined to the church, for in front of Nossa-Senhora da Oliveira, the Padrao (monument) stands, a witness of the worship yielded to the tradition of the olive tree. This monument, a small Gothic building of the early part of the four- SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 8) teenth century, and due to the piety of Dom Joao I., was raised close to the spot where the miracle is supposed to have occurred; and the very olive tree of Wamba, or at least a shoot from it, is there still, surrounded by an iron railing, spreading forth its branches, young and vigorous, yet honored, venerated, and almost worshipped by every succeeding generation for the last ten centuries. The Cathedral is a nice old building, but it has received some grievous mutila- tions without, and has been miserably Italianized within. The cloisters are venerable and tolerably extensive. We were there at an early hour, and mass was going on at one of the altars, and there was a good number of people in the church, engaged in their private devotions. We were shown, in the sacristy, the pelote worn by Dom Joao I. at the battle of Aljubarrota, which was fought August 14, 1385, and a silver altar, in the form of a triptych, representing the different events connected with Our Lord’s nativity, taken from the portable chapel of Don Juan, King of Castile, after the same battle. The anniversary of this victory is still kept at Guimaraés, as a day of religious rejoicing. Guimaraés is a manufacturing town of about nine thou- sand inhabitants. | We resumed our journey, early on the following morning, towards Amarante. Our way lay up a steep mountain ascent of some difficulty to both ourselves and our beasts, but affording us a glorious prospect of the city we had left, the plain on which it stands, the mountains by which it is surrounded, and the quintas and villages interspersed among them. We soon afterwards got on the Serra de Santa Catarina, along which the road led us up and down, here and there, on this side and on that, continually. The ride was, however, splendid— the mountains at one time ex- panding so as to form a plain; at another, approaching so as to contract it into a valley; and at another, huddled together as if they would jostle one another, with verdure sufficient to take off any appearance of barrenness, — rendering the scenery, everywhere magnificent, more interesting for being thus diversified. From Amarante, which contained nothing remarkable and offered wretched accom- modations, we continued our journey, and began to ascend the pass of Amarante by a fine road. ach side of the pass was clothed with magnificent verdure ; and the higher we ascended, the more glorious did the scene become. As we approached the summit, vegetation seemed gradually to languish; the trees were neither so thick nor so forward; the herbage became more scanty and less bright and lively, until at length there was almost an appearance of wildness and desolation. The descent of the pass partook of this character for a considerable distance; the heights under which we were proceeding were bare, or thinly covered with trees of stunted growth, scattered here and there, few and distant: whilst the other side was lined with mountains, whose tops were sometimes brought together like sea-waves, while thei bases were far, far below, out of our sight. The scenery could scarcely be said to be beautiful; but it was grand 10 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. and majestic, and struck us the more, from the contrast it afforded to what we had just before passed through. However, as we got farther down, it became softer and more pleasing, and the verdure increased in richness and luxuriance; but still it was altogether of a different character from that on the ascent. We went through Mezaofrio, a long, straddling, and untidy place, and soon after reached the Douro, along which lay the chief part of our remaining journey. Its banks were steep and precipitous, and withal very beautiful, being principally coy- ered with vines down to the water’s edge. We were now in the midst of the wine country, and could see, here and there among the vineyards, quintas which during the vintage are occupied by the merchants. Our journey to Thomar was remarkable for nothing save the vile inns, and the wretched accommodation they afforded. The road took us through a varied country, — now, as over the Serra Hstrella, rngged and mountainous, afterwards, as we approached Thomar, flat and uninteresting, but well cultivated and fertile. Thomar, a very pretty, clean-looking town, pleasantly situated on the river Nabao, claims the attention of the traveller as possessing the finest architectural treasure in the whole kingdom, — the Convent of the Military Order of Christ: This order was founded in 1338 by King Diniz, who declared its knights the heirs and successors of the Order of the Temple, suppressed in 1312. At first established at Castel Marim, opposite the African coast, the head-quarters of the Order of Christ were, in 1320, transferred to Thomar, where they remained until the law of 1834 closed all the monastic establishments of the kingdom. Masters of the property and privileges formerly held by the Templars, possessing twenty-one towns and four hundred and seventy-two commanderies, these knights inaugurated a new era in the world’s history. Taking the initiative of great maritime discoveries, they obtained, under their grand- master, the Infant Henry, son of Dom Joao I., the exclusive monopoly of distant and extended navigation, and became famous by their wonderful exploits. It was their banner that Vasco de Gama bore to India, — their banner that Alvarez Cabral planted on the shores of the Brazils. The above will enable the reader to perceive the idea that the architect has aimed at implying in his work, and of which a portion of the Casa do Capitulo (Chapter House) gives a good specimen. Beneath the cross, emblem of their order, and which, alternately with the cross of Aviz, forms the crest of the para- pet, a line of armillary spheres, running along a balustrade, show the bent of the thoughts of the inhabitants of the cloisters; as do also the ropes carved in stone, rove through rings, — here seeming to bind the buttresses to the building they support, there coiling loosely round the pillars. The carving round the circular window represents a sail brailed up in loose folds; the ornaments of a buttress at one of the angles are clasped by a broad buckled belt, those of the buttress opposite by a cable, while carved and chiselled anchors, cables, coral, and marine plants supply the subjects of decoration in profusion. Having ascended a noble flight of steps, we passed into the church through SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 11 a beautiful cloistered court, wherein several knights had been buried. The sanctuary is circular, and in the centre of it the high altar, under an octagonal canopy of ; ——— stone, gorgeously gilt and painted, and supported by very massive pillars. The great entrance on the south is indescrib- ably rich, adorned with images of the Virgin and Child, of bishops, saints, and doctors of the church. The west end, too, is covered with gorgeous carving. The church-bell is the largest in Portu- gal. The Casa do Capitulo, or Chapter oe House, built by D. Manoel, is a long, low . it room, with a stone roof, under the Coro > al j Alto, and of which the portal (a view ie 2 of which we here give) is the chef @euvre en, of the architect. On the tympanum of : 1 by is | eh a the archway is a screen richly decorated Pie om As ie a oa ast with a dozen statues, of which that of x fi Me ) i iH iy ‘ fiat i the Virgin occupies the centre. From i By { 4 Wa fart e “4 a the windows of the monastery are ob- a a 2 oe (OE tained magnificent views of the town : aM ig * i : ae and a wide expanse of country. | eee i Q " iy : ge L uf From Thomar we proceeded on our |) ce : - pe pine eS oe ate ° tt wa i ( SoH journey through Ourem—a town on a “jee aoe ee Ie hill, walled round, and old, dirty, and ili, Nid fo Z ai ja ruinous —to Batalha, where we _ parted, it 2 asl with the expression of mutual good i ca . wishes, from our muleteer, who had ac- ! med ‘companied us all the way from Vianna, hae I i ia | ae | ta | : Ce a (in ‘ | Md | ON if i < i f i in ee ae ee and, on the whole, served us very well. As soon as we reached Batalha, we went to the Conventual Church, which Gi a LW i il i ys che ! i 5 “ily formerly belonged to the Dominicans, — 225 a structure of stupendous magnificence, the architectural glory of Portugal. ‘Thus we first saw it, in the dusky twilight, a a Ty | = ES time not unfavorable for a general view, as the gloom of departing day was cal- Portal of the Chapter House. 12 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. culated to increase our impressions of its solemnity and grandeur. We of course re- turned to it the following day for a more particular examination. It stands in the centre of an open space, around which are built the houses of the village. How it strikes one on first entering! The long and lofty nave, eight massive piers on each side, to which, however, their height imparts an appearance of lightness, — the sombre aisles, the noble clerestory and vaulted roof,— all together in a manner awed us with a TTAIINEL RANI i} Wg (walt it 7 rl Nese) ie Le VO: | y= : a amt il il oe TERN =| |= = | t i ae bial ul j| | r, —— A = I | os ill ds i —, == | = a h : = arg oie 2) a=3}) a= = in Rsk ie { i = 6 — = eel — = = 24 |||I|! Mp Aa I ie i —— ai = 4 ral iB “a ) it} = = = a = ily W | yes i } I —— aN : ee mt ie, | = \ alee a (i Seen Sy =], al? | ( a 3 2 e z, | ) f tS y vs ’ ae I '} Ve i x = i HL = , GY \ 2 a fl! : i | | iL 2 : Na \ I 4 f \ 4 Hl ; V is ii ay i | - —— : : = SAL ONAL {BS a : — i sn Fa WAS A TUS: $ SS a ee p — = = RENCE B : ~ RS a; EN q = nurneewtll Si c x i Q¥nk ey ® | 2B re wh Po, ny ie . \\ 'y i) M Al i © » f (i = } ) 3 mi By z R \ i n= N VPA, é a N | =a Ze 5 i SF Ul : % = i | ia = SARE car AD i cant is TT ™ es i | om DSRNA WIRSint mn ROA eeccT Tomb in the Interior of the Conventual Church. sense of its sublimity (see page 13). At the south-west of the nave is the Chapel of the Founder, Dom Joao I.,— a most superb building, sixty-six feet square, distinct from the main building, but entered from it through a beautiful arch. The tomb of himself and his excellent queen, Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt, is in the centre, under a lofty lantern, supported by eight pillars. They are represented in marble, lying side by side on a slab about seven feet from the ground. She died of the plague M iil ii f = h! MONASTERY OF BATALHA. 14 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. in 1416, in the arms of her husband, who, notwithstanding all the remonstrances of his council, never left her bedside. He died August 14, 1433, the anniversary of the day on which he gained the great victory of Aljubarrota, im honor of which he founded this noble church and the convent to which it belonged. The helmet which he wore in that battle is kept in the Sacristy, as well as his sword, and is so weighty that one cannot but wonder how he could ever have borne it on his head. ‘To the north of the Choir, but separated from it by the Sacristy, is the Chapter House, an exquisite room, sixty-four feet square, with handsome windows and beautiful vaulted roof. It is impossible to give any idea of the magnificence of the cloisters, which lie to the west of the Chapter House, alongside of the Nave. They enclose a square of a hundred and eighty feet, each side containing seven windows of from three to six lights, and surmounted by deep tracery of the richest character. At the north-west corner is a lovely fountain, of most delicate workmanship. To the right of the Grand Altar a passage leads to a doorway of which the decorations are lavished with fairy- like profusion (see page 15), and which opens into the unfinished chapel. Com- menced by Manoel, it was intended to be his sepulchre; but the king altered his mind before the monument was completed, gathered together elsewhere -his artists and workmen and the resources of his kingdom, and began on the banks of the Tagus another edifice destined to perpetuate the memory of the then recent maritime dis- coveries. This unfinished chapel is an octagon, at each side of which is a_ lofty arch, forming the entrance to a chapel, lighted by three splendid lancet windows. Over these are massive and highly-wrought pillars, which, however, have been carried up but a little way. The richness, beauty, and grandeur of the work are beyond description. Never having been roofed in, it is open to the sky, exposed to the ele ments, and will probably so remain until it crumbles under the attacks of time. The west door of the church is wonderfully magnificent. It is surmounted by the Cor- onation of the Blessed Virgin in stone, below which are the twelve Apostles in niches, our Lord and the four Evangelists, while images of saints, &c., in great num- bers, form the soffits of the entrance. The lantern of the Founder's Chapel was origi- nally surmounted by an octagonal spire, but this was thrown down in the. great earthquake of 1755. There was also another spire at the north-west of the north transept, which was destroyed by lightning about fifty years ago. It has, however, been lately rebuilt. The exterior length of the building is four hundred and sixteen feet, the interior two hundred and sixty-six feet, and the height to the apex of the vaulting ninety feet. We left Batalha about half past six next morning for Alcobaca, an insignificant town, but well known for its ancient abbey, the shrine of all artists who visit the Pen- insula. Wishing to show his veneration for St. Bernard, Affonso, in 11438, put the kingdom he was then striving to conquer under the protection of Our Lady of Clair- me A A | ¢ | pe Sites.) i i ‘dia en vi (ye “Pp } ii en i Wl =) | i H Gia lll TS i ut Neng >) SS ma — - SA ay (ek Sar VE ee eg was - ee ae aes “= 7 OE iS TaN roe f= = tice a country which, fifty years ago, was generally spoken of as the Empire of Morocco. Any European notion of an empire must, however, be strangely inapplicable to a territory for which its six EPs or seven million inhabitants of diverse origin have absolutely no \ | if p name. The Algerians call it El-Carb, “The West ;” to Arab writers Vy i | P it was known as the Maugreb, “The Remote West;” and to the ll Mh e e e y i \ inhabitant of Morocco it is simply “The Master’s Land,” the Beled onl} of this or that sultan: yesterday, Abder-Rhaman’s Beled ; to-day, i that of Muley-Abbas. Between the status this fact reveals, and the Zth social conditions implied by our modern ideas of country and nation- J ality, exists a world-wide difference. And yet, but fifteen miles away Nat from Tangier, the most northern town of Morocco, lies Gibraltar, ZN the English fortress, with which the African town and its adjacent country are in almost daily communication. -Neither has there been lack of time in which this population might be civilized. Hight centuries before the Christian era, Hanno the Carthaginian, had brought them news of the arts and sciences of the ancient world; and later, they were never long without dealings of some kind with the great Empire of Rome. Still further, both before and since that time, scarcely ever has one of the broad, strong currents of migration, which have changed the face of the earth, failed to sweep over Morocco. Iberians from Spain; Berbers, coming down, at some date unknown, from the high table- lands of Asia; Hebrews and Syrians, escaping by thousands from successive disas- ters of Tyre, Samaria, and Judea; Vandals from the remote north; Arabs from Yemen, driven forth by Mahomet to the conquest of the world; blacks of Soudan, bought or stolen from their native country: —all branches of the human race have cast some rootlets into this soil. But no one has been strong enough to put an end to the predatory wanderings of the nomadic life, and replace them by stable and fruitful agri- cultural industry; to call forth the city from the encampment of shepherds, the lair of pirates, or the tyrant’s stronghold. The cities of Morocco, familiar as are the 24 , VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. names of a few of them, were really nothing better than this; and, as they have ceased to be this, have by degrees become depopulated and have gone to decay, following the example of so many others, whose nameless ruins, on the banks of dried-up rivers, will one day astonish the archeologist and the antiquary. At the same time, the natural advantages of Morocco are very remarkable. Its climate is sufficiently temperate and healthy; the chain of mountains, covered with perpetual snow, that le between it and Sahara, defending it from the scorching desert winds, while a sea-breeze perpetually refreshes the western coast. The rains in winter are frequent, and add greatly to the fertility of the country, which produces corn, oranges and lemons, grapes, figs, and olives, to an extent which might return an inex- haustible revenue, were there a fixed and moderate government, and anything like industry on the part of the inhabitants. The Moors, however, cultivate their lands only in proportion to their own per- sonal wants, so that at least two-thirds of the country lies waste. Hence the wild palm-tree grows in abundance, of which shepherds, mule-drivers, and camel-drivers make a thousand uses as necessity compels. They gather the leaves, and make from them mats, fringes, baskets, hats, large wallets to carry corn, twine, ropes, girths, and covers for their pack-saddles. They heat their ovens with its wood, and its fruit is wholesome, though not specially palatable. Our illustration represents the city of Morocco, ‘one of the three capitals of the country. It is six miles in circumference, and contains sixty or seventy thousand inhabitants. A wall thirty feet in height surrounds it, having eleven gates, and towers at intervals of fifty yards. This wall is built of tappia-work, a mixture of lime and sand, of remarkable strength. The mosques, which are the only public buildings, except the Palace, worth noticing, are more numerous than splendid; but one of them is ornamented with a high square tower, built of hewn stone, and visible at a con- siderable distance into the country. The streets are very narrow, dirty, and irregular, the houses nearly all one story, and large open spaces, many acres in extent, lie in different parts of the city. The Elcaissera is that part of the town where valuable articles are kept for sale. It consists of a number of small shops, formed in the walls of the houses about a yard from the ground, of such a height within as just to admit a man to sit in one of them cross-legged. The drawers and shelves are so arranged around him that when he serves his customers, who are standing meanwhile out in the street, he can reach any article he wants without moving. ‘These shops, which are found in all the towns of the empire, afford an excellent example of the indolence of the Moors. Besides this, there are three daily markets, in different parts of the town, where provisions are sold, and two weekly fairs, or markets, for the sale of cattle. A singular feature of the city of Morocco is the existence of large reservoirs & ‘ : ue Bat => von VIEW OF THE CITY OF MOROCCO. 26 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. | of water, in the centre of the town as well as in the suburbs, fed by wooden pipes connected with the neighboring streams. The city lies in a beautiful valley, having a lower range of mountains on the north, and the great chain of Atlas, about twenty miles away, on the south and east. The country immediately around it is a fertile plain, abounding in clumps of palm- trees and flowering shrubs, and watered by small and numerous mountain streams. The Palace is an ancient building, lying outside the city, and inclosed by high walls of its own. It has several Gothic gateways of hewn stone, leading into spacious open courts, where troops are reviewed and public business transacted. ‘The apart- Moorish Cemetery in Morocco. ments of the emir consist of several irregular, square, whitewashed pavilions lying in the midst of gardens. The finest of these is called the Mogadore, from the chief seaport of Morocco, and is described as a really elegant structure. It is built of hewn stone, and has many handsome windows, and is roofed with varnished tiles of various colors. The principal room is floored with blue and white checkered tiling, its ceiling is curiously covered with carved and painted wood, and its stuccoed walls ornamented with looking-glasses and watches, regularly disposed in glass cases. Hand- some Moorish rugs, and divans covered with rich stuffs, are scattered throughout the rooms. The gardens within the walls of the palace are very neatly kept. ‘They SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 27 contain olive and orange trees, and many flowering shrubs, and at every turn in the ayenues that wind through them, some new fountain is revealed to sight, send- ing up its slender jet against the rich dark background of the shrubbery. 3 The second illustration we offer from Morocco represents a city of the dead, also lying outside the walls of the capital, but on the opposite side from the Palace. No Christian emblem nor word of Christian faith relieves the sombre sadness of this dreary place; rude stone pillars, surmounted by a turban, mark the Moorish tombs, and the wild beast steals through the moonlight to his lair in some neglected grave. Following the Atlantic coast southward, in the track of the Carthaginian Hanno, tN LCN TA View of St. Louis. — who, with his sixty vessels and thirty thousand emigrants, sailed past the Pillars of Hercules, in 570 3B. c., and kept on his adventurous way, it is believed, as far as the modern Sierra Leone,—we come, after passing the Sahara, to the mouth of the Senegal, the great river of Senegambia. . | Here is situated the French colonial town of St. Louis, erected by Europeans in the early part of the seventeenth century (see above). Originally it was little more than a fort, but by degrees quite a settlement gathered upon the island of St. Louis and on both shores of the river. The streets of the town are laid out with mathematical regularity parallel to the line of the river’s bank; but the sandy 28 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. island lies so low that at every freshet the whole town used to be submerged, till quite recently dikes of brick-work have been erected, and the level of the streets raised, to bring them above high-water mark. The Senegal makes its way to the sea through a channel which it digs for itself across a sand-bar called Barbary Point. This bar changes its position constantly, and soundings must be taken every day to render the entrance to the river safe. Even with the utmost precaution, from January to March, sailing-vessels scarcely dare cross the bar; but crowds of little fishing-shallops go out every morning, and on their return, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, it is a strange and ani- mated picture to see them make their way across the belt of seething white water, Bakel. eighty rods broad, which lies between the quiet sea outside and the quiet river within. In its lower course, the Senegal divides into many arms, forming low, sandy islands, but finally gathers into a single stream at the bar, which is its sole outlet to the ocean. Its banks become more animated as we ascend, and vegetation grows more beautiful. Many little French settlements have been founded, and suggest the idea that civilization will thus slowly make its way even into this inaccessible continent of Africa. About three hundred miles up the river is situated the town and fortress of Bakel (see above). From the top of the wall a beautiful and very extensive view greets the eye. The river lies, in all its windings, for many miles full in view, its rapids and cascades here and there. glittering in the sun. A magnificent plain, watered by many little streams, and broken by wooded _hillocks, stretches away into SCENES [INV MANY LANDS. 29 the distance, and the horizon is outlined by high and misty mountain ranges of great height. The vegetation is wonderful, and equally so is the abundance and _ variety of animal life. Flocks of ostriches and bustards, troops of antelopes, the beautiful white pintado, three or four species of baboons, and monkeys in great variety, per- form the ornamental and comic roles in the great spectacular drama perpetually going on before the traveller who explores the Senegal, while hippopotami and elephants support the heavy business, and there are crocodiles and lions, panthers, leopards, and hyenas in plenty, to bring in at any moment the tragic element to an unlim- ited extent. A hundred miles above Bakel is the great Cataract of Gouina. At this point = == = = = s — —=S == —= = = — E = ==> = = = ——= = = Cataract of Gouina. the Senegal, six or seven hundred yards in breadth, falls over an irregular rocky wall, which we give above, so broken and worn away by the water that instead of one broad sheet, there are a dozen distinct cascades, presenting a scene of extreme beauty ri and singularity. The banks of the river abound in groves of superb palm-trees, of the variety shown in the illustration, page 31. A French officer, M. Mage, who explored the head waters of the Senegal about ten years ago, speaks of these trees as follows: “At about half past eight we arrived at Ouakha, a village situated in the midst of a beautiful plain, surrounded by palm-trees loaded with fruit. I decided to encamp under their shadow. As soon as we were established, Sambo Yoro asked my per- 30 VOYAGES AND’ TRAVELS. mission to cut some of the fruit. I did not object, and he climbed a small tree, for some of them about us were not less than sixty feet in height. But he had no sooner begun to knock off some of the fruit than the people of the ‘village ob- jected. This was the more to be regretted as it was just ripe for use; later the_ milk hardens, but was now liquid and fresh, and as sweet as that in the cocoanut. But Famahra, another of my men, who, like the village people, had never before tasted the fruit of this species of palm while it was fresh, now found out how good it was, and began to contest the point with his countrymen, averring that these | Hombori Mountains. trees belonged to the good God, for it was He who had planted them, and that no man had a right to deny them to others. We proved the stronger, and knocked off several clusters of the fruit. Curious to relate, the villagers, having ventured to taste them, at once came over to our side, and in a few moments every accessible tree was plundered. JI am sure our passage through the village will long be remem- bered, where we revealed a delicious article of food to those who had lived near it all their lives, waiting till the fruit should fall to the ground, when, instead of a delicate flavor, it has the smell and taste of turpentine, and instead of cream, offers but a stringy almond.” From the Senegal M. Mage made his way to the upper waters of the Niger. ge ee ee ey Zit aol = FRING: WATT Rn TUT fa \| Hh | | | | iI Sy HLL | ——— ~~ iA 1] i “ G ; eX \ \ ag > ~ rege Ba35 FOREST NEAR THE SENEGAL. 32 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Imagining ourselves companions of his journey, and pursuing it still further down this greatest and most mysterious of all the rivers of Western Africa, one picture, the Hombori Mountains (see page 30), haunts us like the landscape of a dream. Behind these perpendicular walls, where nature seems to have tried her hand at building medizval chateaux, dwell one of the rudest and most untamable of the say- age tribes of Africa. In the fields below they raise millet and pasture a few sheep, but for the most part they live by rapine and plunder : still another . proof, if any were needed, that the most poetic and beautiful surroundings have no power to soften the savage heart of man. Resuming our route along the western sea-coast of Africa, we round Cape Verde, and find sheltered behind it, on the south, the island of Goree, an arid rock which id j al Government House at Goree. commands a superb harbor, where ships may always ride in safety, however wild the weather outside. The island is crowned by a fort which contains barracks and cisterns for water. The Government House, which we present above, is a handsome structure recently erected. Below, near the water’s edge, the town is densely populated, and a hive of busy industry. The emancipation of its former slaves has reduced the population to a hard-working life ; sober and enterprising, they seek in traffic of various kinds the means of supplying their daily wants. The houses they inherit from their ancestors give them a certain degree of comfort, but articles of luxury are scarce, and the dull look of the town no longer suggests the festivities for which it once was famous. The next illustration we present gives a view of the interior court of the post- house at Grand Bassam, a seaport on the Gold Coast.’ This place has been for SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 33 some time the head-quarters of French trade in palm-oil, and as such has attained to considerable importance. For twenty years a French garrison was maintained at Grand Bassam, but since 1870 it has been withdrawn. Our last illustration from the Western Coast of Africa represents the Sacred Islands of Lake Jonanga; only a wild and solitary scene, peopled with water-fowl, but of weird and almost tragic interest, as the central shrine of that primitive fetich- worship, the earliest and rudest of all the natural religions. Taking for our guide a French explorer, who, starting from the colony of the Gaboon, visited, in 1864, many of the neighboring tribes, we will visit this savage shrine. “The next day,” he says, “we set out for those famous fetich islands of which @ppers & DAR Interior Court of the Post-House at Grand Bassam. we had heard so much, accompanied by the king of Aroumbe, who was attired in an ancient corporal’s uniform, and by some dozen intelligent-looking boys, specially con- secrated to the fetich-worship, and wearing a kind of livery of their office, com- posed chiefly of strings of beads of all colors and sizes, bracelets of red chenille, and rings of yellow copper. “Let the reader imagine two islets, or rather two immense bouquets of verdure, mirrored in the most translucent water, and literally covered with a cloud of birds of every shape and hue, who evidently lived here in absolute security from moles- tation. As we sailed along, a great ibis, perched on a rock within a few feet of us, watched the passing boat with evident curiosity, rising on tiptoe, and agitating his pink wings bordered with fine bands of black. Above our heads a species of vulture of a yellowish white, and some great black birds of the fish-hawk family 34 : VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. circled in the air. More tranquil in their temperament, immense flocks of birds had settled upon some tall trees near the water. ; “It is scarcely probable that to these peaceful denizens the sombre reputation of the Sacred Islands can be due. Along with them, or perhaps in them, are under- stood to dwell mysterious genii. Our sailors were evidently very much frightened as we drew near land. But Yondogowiro, the fetich king, was there to appease the angry powers. Nothing could be more droll than to see this little old negro, in his mili- tary coat too high in the neck and too short in the sleeves, arise in the boat, and stretch out supplicating hands towards the penguins, a bird particularly well suited Sacred Islands on Lake Jonanga. to receive with due gravity the homage offered him. With one hand the old man shook a little bell attached to a long handle, the emblem of his priestly authority; with the other he crumbled biscuit into the water; then he addressed to the genii this invocation: ‘Here are white men who haye come to see you. Do not make them ill. They bring you presents of biscuits and brandy. Do not kill them, but let them go back safe to the Gaboon.’ “The birds graciously accepted the biscuit. The brandy proved more agreeable to the fetich king than to his feathered divinities; and we were assured of high favor from the occult powers. We did not, however, insist upon our right to land on SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 35 either of the islands, where, in fact, it would be almost difficult to find a place for the sole of one’s foot, so crowded was the vegetation down to the very water’s edge; and after sailing around them, we returned to Aroumbe, and dismissed our escort, adding a few more strings of beads for the toilet of the lads, and a further supply of biscuit and brandy for the personal use and behoof of the fetich king.” 36 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. NORTHERN AFRICA. E commence our wanderings along the northern coast of that mysterious continent which has for so long attracted and baffled explorers from all the civilized world, at a little town Sef in the western district of Algeria, whose very name is French, and the date of its foundation nothing earlier than the extremely modern period, 1844. For all that, the little city of Nemours is full of historic sou- venirs. Here, in 1847, resided the Duke d’Aumale, governor-general of Algeria, when Abdel-Kader was brought before him to make his long- delayed submission to French authority. Stately and silent, the Arab warrior asked but one favor of his captors: it was that he might not be taken to Algiers, where he feared the shame of being publicly exhibited as a prisoner. The following day, when the Duke d’Aumale was return- ing to the city after a review of the troops, the desert chief came to meet him, riding his famous black mare, dismounted, and offered him the animal, saying, “Take her, and may she bring you good fortune !” From Cape Noé to Cape Milonia, the African sea-coast, forever gnawed and undermined by the Mediterranean waves, rises high and irregular above the sea. Here and there this rocky wall is split by a deep and narrow cleft, and down the sides of these ravines steal innumerable little threads of water, gathering below to form at last a brook of considerable size. Trees plunge their roots into these microscopic streamlets, and, in turn, save them from being drunk dry by the summer sun. It is at the foot of one of these ravines that the little city of Nemours is built, half on land rescued from the sea, half on the slopes covered with Arab gar- dens. Above it the cliff is four hundred feet high, and along its crest are yet found traces of some ancient city which once stood there, whose very name has long since been forgotten. Picturesquely built, and half hidden under the great trees of its boulevards, Nemours consists of two quite separate districts: one, composed of the two streets running parallel to the sea-shore, bears the characteristic name of Bugeauyille ; the SCENES [IN MANY LANDS. 37 other is but a collection of rude barracks. built of boards, and inhabited by Jews and Spaniards. The population is for the most part occupied in fishing, in an intermit- tent fashion, varied by expeditions along the coast as carriers of the mineral treas- ures of Gar-Rouban and Mazis, or the wool and grain of Marnia. A few poor little boats are drawn up on the sand; they manage them in the way Homer describes, — a manner of proceeding unchanged along the Mediterranean sea-coast since the Trojan war. From Nemours to Tlemcen, a distance of about sixty miles, is accomplished on horseback in two days. Leaving the sea-coast, we follow the ravine southward, amid erat Sai imiPieiea MTS Nemours. vegetable gardens as fine as the best hwertas of Andalusia: here and there the hill- side is mined, half-way up, by galleries excavated in search of veins of manganese. To this succeeds a dusty road through a rocky region, and presently we come upon “the Agha’s Gardens,” where guavas and bananas, the eucalyptus, and many other tropical trees and shrubs, delight the eye. With alternations of savage wildness and luxuriant verdure our road pursues its way; rarely we meet some traveller ; once, a dozen camels, our first sight of a genuine caravan. We pass the little Jewish and Arab town of Nedromah, and reach Marnia for the night’s lodging. The latter town is of much commercial importance, but offers 38 VOYAGES AND NTRAVELS no attraction to the seeker of the picturesque, unless perhaps it be the motley crowd that frequents the market-place. Not ten miles from the frontier of Morocco, it is the principal outlet for the wool and grain and cattle of that very fertile country. No description could give an idea of the tumultuous traffic going on in the narrow streets. There is a crowd gathered from all the neighboring countries, — Europeans, Jews, Arabs, Berbers. There is an. incessant trampling of horses, mules, donkeys, cattle, and camels with hoarse, discordant voices. There is a mass of every kind of merchandise, — dates, drums of figs, blocks of salt, henna, filali (red leather), haicks, a thousand objects curious to the European eye. ‘There is a very Babel of languages, — French, Arab, Kabyle, Hebrew, Spanish, German, and Italian, and that nondescript dialect, a mosaic of them all. O traffic, thou art the great pacificator! Anywhere else than in this peaceful market, these people would have met only to take each other’s lives. Late the next day we reached Tlemcen, which lies on an elevated plateau, in the heart of the mountainous district of Oran. It is a little city of ten thousand inhabitants: Moors and Berbers and Jews, French, and a few Spaniards and Italians. The city is very ancient, and was once the capital of an independent kingdom; but its people having offended the Dey of Algiers, he captured and burned it in 1640, and reduced the province to submission. From this time it remained Algerian, and with the rest of the province was taken by France in 1842. The city has been greatly improved since the French conquest; it possesses a fine English Garden, very excellent cafés, a public library, and a museum. At the same time the native quarters of the town abound in narrow streets and miserable one-story houses. The Jews in Tlemcen are numerous and often wealthy; they are, as everywhere, intelligent, and many of them speak and write the French language fluently, and nearly all the European houses that have been built in the town are their property. We visited the library and the museum, which are under the same roof with the city offices. The library contains twenty-two hundred volumes of the highest merit. All the master-works of the human intellect are here, placed gratuitously at the public service, and the city council votes annually a considerable sum for the in- crease of this precious collection. The museum occupies a magnificent hall, used on occasion for balls and concerts. It contains many archeological treasures, among the most important, some onyx columns of great beauty, lately discovered in excavations at Mansourah. The climate of Tlemcen is remarkable for extraordinary variations of temperature, — variations as marked from one day to another as from one season to another, and often occurring, indeed, in the same day, especially during the summer. Rains are abundant; they commence usually in October, and continue, with alternations of fine TLEMCEN. 40 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS, \ weather, till May or June. The spring rains and the morning fogs, which last into July, contribute to give the vegetation a character for permanence which astonishes the traveller, during the heats of an African summer. It is a great surprise, after having traversed extensive regions utterly parched and withered by the heat, to see the green luxuriance of Tlemcen. | It was the middle of March when we first arrived, and the very prime of the season. 4 in = ‘ : SA \\ \ = = \ ~ C7 b : = NSS SX Karnak, Hypostyle Hall. began to decline until her misfortunes were consummated by the invasion of Cambyses, in 525 B. c. ) i Uh i ni a aha COURT OF THE COLOSSI. 80 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Thebes, and is by far the best preserved. You enter between two pavilions, which may have been originally porters’ lodges, and passing through the Court of Rhamses, perhaps the private residence of the Pharaoh, emerge into a spacious area, which leads to the great court of the temple. Here all the peculiarities of Pharaonic Egyptian Medinet, Temple-Palace of Rhamses III. architecture are displayed in the highest perfection, and bring most clearly to the mind the spirit and genius of that extraordinary people. It is, with the exception of Karnak, the most striking and magnificent interior in Hgypt. Its lateral colonnades, forty feet long, are composed of columns about seven and a half feet in diameter. Hach of the extremities presents an elevation of eight piers, ~~“ SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 81 fronted by colossal statues. To these majestic colossi the court owes its impressive grandeur. Many of them are shattered, and some almost gone, but the imagination easily supplies the loss, and pictures all the original splendor of the place. “The graye grandeur of this court,” says Curtis, “is unsurpassed in architec- ——— = —=-. E =. eS = = = = SSS =| = =] == = =—— =| —4 E =| my = zal = = —— Filth ai = == => ZA ANN —— = “4 (is i Sada = r ay = 2g 78 ; : : = = in ——! = = = = ——— 4 ASS = — = = = == =| SSS] = == —— == me Wh == == 2 5 bit ill —— = =| \ ss Sa = = = = | = on = = ye a —— = = 5 7) jl \ } = —— = ——— eae = = > == 22 pee A S = == 5 = ht 2 tl — ae == he == in I = = es == Tina —— = 1 ) i] = = : cen = : ) —_ : hie i) : Hite = ——— > ¢e i = = Vas —— = = = " We = u h i A | ig = hic " by i 4 np See Tah iPr ss , be = Tenn al ns Task —.| Wage { ft = = ioe Nea ( ote! i ee i 2 A ee eas = ma ase tui ee Ae ZO! = : Medias oe NU eee CaN ie es Tae ——— = ee aes (Oe Rap SA eas : inact OR i 2=pldis * = rien Da sat A Hae “ANE hime : = ee) cance Saggy aN ‘ pa ERs wien inns = mre yah} =S— Ret MONG PAN) co ES ee eh —— Gat eee | iY NW’ Ren ‘7 t ( \ } N53 yeaa A leat te pipe § yl rei eee 3 Se nS AUXANORE BARS = Hermonthis. ture. Open to the sky above, a double range of massive columns supported the massive pediment. The columns upon the court were Osiride,—huge square masses, covered all over with hieroglyphics, and with figures with folded hands carved in bold relief upon their faces. The rear row was of circular columns with papyrus or lotus capitals. The walls dimly seen behind this double colonnade are all carved 82 ; VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. with history, and the figures upon them, with those of the architraves, variously ~ colored.” } z This colored decoration is indescribably effective here. Bas-reliefs in such lim- : itless profusion would be objectionable; but these colored intaglios, extending as they do over the whole building, give an even tone of ornamentation, without impairing the outline or disturbing the general effect. They are cut three or four inches deep f into the solid stone, and their edges are as sharp as the day the workmen left them. Reluctantly we bid adieu to Thebes, and resume our journey southward. For a erage iii KIN | few hours modern life resumes its influence, as we admire the fine husbandry of Mus-' tapha Pacha’s estates. There is something more attractive further on, however: at some distance from the river, four beautiful columns rising in front of a little sanc- tuary bring us to the first Ptolemaic ruin. This building, the Temple of Hermonthis, was erected by Cleopatra, whose name is associated here with that of her son Casa- rion. The scene is extremely picturesque. It is Egyptian and yet Greek. The cap- itals are of the same style as those at Medinet, while the elongated shafts tell plainly . the influence of foreign art. Half-way between Hermonthis and Phile, we passed Kom-Ombos in the moon- a | | Y a ib TTT i HALIM eee Tesi THE TEMPLE OF ISIS. 7 84 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. light. It is a temple undermined by the river, and half buried in the sand. A peculiarity of structure in this temple is explained by an inscription. A column in- stead of an interspace occupies the centre of the portico, and two lateral entrances lead to double doorways. ‘The inscription tells us that the temple was dedicated to two divinities. A whole day and night yet separated us from Syene and the Cataract; winds, rocks, and river delayed our advance. Along at our right stretched the low green island of Elephantine, covered with ruins almost invisible, fabulous home of those ichthyophagi who served Cambyses as his ambassadors to the Ethiopians. At last we had reached the Cataract, which consists of three rapids separated from each other by smooth water. The ascent is difficult, and though by no means dangerous, requires much knowledge and skill. Carrying boats up and down the rapids is the great business of the Nubians who live on the borders of Egypt, and the revs who com- mands the large squad of men necessary to take a boat up is an important and dignified character. The scene around us was wild and picturesque. Great masses of black rock, rising out of the water wet and shining, like a herd of buffaloes petrified in vari- ous attitudes, serve as points of support to which are attached cables. The half- naked troop of Nubians, shouting and gesticulating wildly, dash into the water, or scramble upon these rocks, dragging us slowly upwards. Night fell as we passed through the first rapid, and we came to anchor in the smooth water, amid much con-— gratulation from the Nubians on our lucky advance thus far, as they bade us good night, and disappeared over the bank. At daylight they returned, and resumed their labors. The passage of the other two rapids was achieved in much the same fashion, and three o’clock in the afternoon brought us out into the broad, smooth current above the Cataract. Here lie the twin islands Phile and Beghieh. Philee was the holy island of Egypt. Seen from the river, a belt of green sur- rounds it, and the bank is a tangled mass of flowering plants and vines, above which tower the stately palm-trees. The surface of the island is a mass of ruins, but the — great Temple of Isis yet stands, and a smaller hypzthral temple .overhangs the river. Two colonnades, whose increasing divergence reduces the optical error by which parallel lines seem to approach each other as they retreat, unite these two temples. ‘The western, and more important of the two, consists of thirty-three columns, whose shafts are covered with intaglios, and whose capitals, ingeniously varied, never repeat the same design. Sixteen columns, in less complete preservation, form the eastern colonnade. About in the centre of the western gallery, a flight of steps whose base is often under water cuts the continuous rampart, and descends to the river. This propylon recalls the Roman epoch, and is not less beautiful for that: everywhere the head of Augustus, the sceptical profile of Tiberius, or the brutal face SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 85 of Claudius, surmounts the great meagre figure carved with that uniformity from which Egyptian art never knew how to vary. | The Temple of Isis, represented in the illustration on page 83, is the smaller hypzthral structure by the river-bank. The eye rests with delight upon its airy grace and unadorned simplicity. There is not an hieroglyphic on it, nor any sculpture ex- cept the winged globe over the portal leading to the colonnade. Open aboye, as its name hypethral implies, it is beautiful indeed. No roof was ever intended for it, and the walls between the columns are built up only about a third of the height. HHH] Philee, Colonnade. Several courses of stone intervening between the columns and the cornice add to the singular effect, but in no degree diminish the beauty of the edifice. The temples of Philx might easily be restored, or at least their further decay prevented ; and let no one scorn these temples because of’ their comparatively recent date. It is true that to the epoch of Rhamses belong most of the colossi among Egyptian ruins, but the advent of the Ptolemies was the signal for a marvellous revival in arts and letters. What architecture lost in massiveness it gained in grace- ful proportion. Roman restorations we will not seek to defend ; but the Greek influ- ence less brusquely imposed upon the Pharaonic architecture, modified its traditions 86 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. without altering its spirit or stamping it with a foreign imprint. Nor can we forget the debt science owes to the Island of Phils, for here it was that Belzoni, discovered that bilingual inscription in which the names of Ptolemy and Cleopatra, written in hieroglyphics similar to those of the Rosetta stone, gave the opportunity for the younger Champollion to establish the presence of phonetic characters in Kgyptian writing, and thus brought about the discovery of the ancient language. Philze has its history, political and religious. Key of the Cataract, it became the rampart of the Theban dynasties against the incursion of the hordes of Ethio- _ pia; it was their refuge when the Shepherd people invaded Lower and Middle Egypt. The Rhamses, when they had driven out these foreigners, covered the two islands with palaces and temples; and though Phile has preserved nothing from this period, at Beghieh are extensive ruins belonging to the reign of an ancestor of Sesostris. — Beghieh. This king, Amenophis, going to fight the Ethiopians, left on a rock an inscription attesting his presence. We may attribute to the devastations of Cambyses, near the end of the sixth century before Christ, the poverty of Philz in buildings of very ancient date. The last national Egyptian dynasty began to restore the island from its ruins about 3870 B. o.; the Ptolemies continued the restoration which had been — broken in upon by a new Persian conquest; and we have seen that the Czgesars entered upon the inheritance of the Greek kings. When the Roman Empire began ; to give way upon all its frontiers, Phile was its last citadel in Nubia; Diocletian for- — tified the island, and constructed an arch of triumph of which three gates still remain. The Pharaohs, the Ptolemies, and the Caesars in turn abandoned Philee, but its gods remained, and sustained the long siege of the new faiths. Osiris, oldest of ae ca a 4 + SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 82 Higyptian divinities, had his tomb in the sacred island; and with bated breath thc Hgyptian was wont to swear, as his most solemn oath, * By him who sleeps in Phile.” Here was the home of Isis and Hator, and the sacredness of the place increased as the worship of its local divinities spread over the Roman world. Chris: thy wt fi ue vet We ik iit il { tianity came late to Philw, and in the latter half of the sixth century of our era Isis still had her worshippers under the Hgyptian palms; nor was it until the Arab invasion swept the land that the ancient idol ceased at last to be an object of ven- eration to: any. After many hours spent in exploring Philz, we crossed to Beghich. This island 88 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. (see page 86) is singularly composed of high granite hills, rismg amid fields of dhourra; the huts of its few inhabitants are so built among ancient foundations and — heaps of rubbish and ruined walls, that no thorough investigation of antiquities could be made without demolishing these residences of to-day. It is a romantic and inter- — esting place from the strong contrast of the rude masses of barren rock with the luxuriant vegetation around them, and from the perfect quiet of the scene, broken only : by the indistinct noise of the water-wheels, like the sound of far-off church-bells. Since yesterday we have been in Nubia; we hear the Arabic language no longer; through the gate of the Cataract we enter into the very land of the sun. It is a hill i] AW mn | rm i \ q Sl HOTELIM2 HUREL« Maharakka. lonely, solitary land, and still the great nations of the past have been here and left memorials of their grandeur. Khartas is a ruin of the Roman time; but it was built of blocks taken from older monuments, and we recognize heads of Isis belonging to the very early periods of Pharaonic architecture. Further south we come to the ruins of Maharakka, also of late date, and infe- rior in extent to many others; precious, however, for their picturesque grouping. A court surrounded by columns yet remains a little distance off; on the eastern side lie the shapeless ruins of an edifice more ancient, which, perhaps, furnished material for the later structure. | MURCHISON’S FALLS OF THE NILE. YO VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. And now the Second Cataract of the Nile bars our way. Like the first Cata- ract, it is but a series of rapids. Let not the reader fancy, however, that cataracts upon the Nile are all of this character. Far in the south, but a few miles from the equator, there is one fall which may measure itself against the beautiful cas- cades of the Western world. It was discovered in 1862 by Sir Samuel Baker, and received from him the name of Murchison’s Falls, in honor of the President of the Royal Geographical Society. On cither side of the river rises a wall of about three hundred feet, magnificently wooded with trees whose verdure is of the most intense brilliancy. Through a cleft in the rocks, the river, here about a hundred and fifty feet wide, springs with a single leap down a perpendicular precipice of over a hundred feet into an abyss of black volcanic rocks. ‘The dazzling whiteness of the foam forms a striking contrast to this black basin; and tropical palms and wild bananas set off the picture. At the Second Cataract, however, we pause. Here man’s kingdom ends. Beyond is Darfour and Khartoum, visited by caravans, and by an indefatigable Sir Samuel Baker; there are kings and slaves; there are human beings, if you choose to call them so; there are, and there have been, no historic races. devoured by sands, and obstructed by endless rapids, the Nile is no longer the splendid river which mirrors an_ ancient civilization. But if, turning our eyes from the southern horizon, we pierce the northern with our gaze, what sublime spectacles, what heights and what declines, what tremen- dous alternations are presented to us in the life of a people to whom we owe so much, —a people who were living in the plenitude of their glory when our ancestors yet vegetated upon the Asiatic table-land, and disputed with savage beasts the roots and acorns which were their food! See those crowded cities, those temples, those tombs where the dead were thought to be alive so long as their forms retained human sem- blance. Recall the ravages of the Shepherd Kings and of the Sun-worshippers; sum- mon the mighty shades of Alexander, Cleopatra, Czesar; lastly, the Arab conquest, when the flames of fanaticism swept over the land; and say, what river in all the world has such a place in history, such a deep and tragic interest, as the Nile? UR illustrations from LHastern Africa appropriately commence less with Nubia, whose seaport, Massaoua, a dull little town on a lees (ules Gl the Red Sea, is the gateway by which explorers of Abyssinia, from the time of Bruce to the present day, have entered ore Gera) upon their interesting and perilous journey. A European colony exists in this Nubian seaport, com- posed of one or two consular agents, a few representatives of Huro- G A pean commercial houses, and a little band of Roman Catholic missiona- ries. Of these latter, the earliest comers were Capuchins; but in 1855, some Lazarist fathers, who had been expelled from Abyssinia, made a more substantial settlement, and are, at the present time, a- numerous and influential body. They have built a large dwelling- house near the town, and also a church, and to this, in 1864, they added a printing-press for Abyssinian books. The climate of this part of Nubia is extremely warm, but proba- . bly not more unhealthy than the neighborhood of the Red Sea is in general. An Anglo-Indian proverb says, “ Pondicherry is a hot bath, Aden a furnace, but Massaoua is the fire itself.” This, however, seems to be slightly exaggerated; the over-statement is probably due to European consular agents, who dread the Red Sea posts above everything, and are inclined to paint the country even worse than it is. 91 92 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Inland Nubia is in great part a desert, cut by mountain ranges whose valleys are fertile but ill cultivated. At present it is a most inaccessible country, but an enterprise has been planned by the Viceroy of Egypt, which, if it should ever be successful, would have the effect of changing the aspect of Nubia, for the first time since the days of the Pharaohs. This is nothing less than a railway from the Nile to the Red Sea, embracing in an immense ellipse the entire country with the exception of Kordofan ; an area, that is to say, as large as the whole empire of Austria. This proposed road would start from Korosko, the extreme point of steam navigation on the Khor of D ee Nile, follow the mountain passes through which caravans now make their way, return to the Nile again at Abou-Hamed, and go along its bank as far as Khartoum, thence striking eastwardly by way of Kassala, to the Red Sea at Saouakin. Many difficulties would be found in carrying out this enterprise ; at several points the way is barred by great granitic ridges and limestone hills. At the same time there are unusual advantages in the countless valleys and dry beds of rivers, so common a feature in Nubia. To one accustomed only to Huropean and American rivers, this latter suggestion may seem extremely unpractical, since no western engi- neer would regard a river’s bed as, under any circumstances, available for a railway track, In Nubia, however, the presence of water in the bed of a river is of so fi SCENES IN MANY LANDS. Ne) w2 rare occurrence, and its depth even in the rainy season so very trifling a matter, that it is entirely within the limits of engineering skill to lay a track there and to make it secure at all seasons of the year. The Barka, the most important river of the country, is but a ribbon of white sand, save for a few days in the summer, when the torrents from the high plateaus of Barea and Ayla make their way down into its broad channel, whose sands have soon absorbed them completely. These torrents, called khors in the language of the country, are of great importance to its prosperity ; they are not merely the feeders but the actual creators of the Nubian soil, and after they are quite dried up, there Rock near Kassala. is always a chance that by digging from two to eight feet there may be found water, which the saturated sands have preserved in their depths. In the illustration on the opposite page is represented one of these khors, which, flowing through a light alluvial soil, and not at all hemmed in by rocky banks, spreads wide as a lake, surrounded on all sides by luxuriant vegetation. Another peculiarity of the Nubian mountains is the abundance of curiously shaped rocks resembling those which in Brittany and many other parts of Europe are called dolmens. It has been questioned whether these rocks were natural curiosities, left in 94. VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. their grotesque shapes and odd positions by great diluvial changes, or whether they were Druidic altars erected by human hands in some pre-historic period. The one represented on the preceding page is found in the neighborhood of Kassala, and others more closely resembling altars exist near the Red Sea. Our illustrations from Nubia are, it will be observed, of natural scenery alone; the great architectural remains of this country belong to the Nile. In the narrow, fertile strip watered by that great river, and hemmed in by mountains on either side, from the Second Cataract down to the sea, lived a people, not Egyptian nor Lake Tana. Nubian, in the modern acceptation of those words, and theirs were the temples and palaces whose ruins fill the world with admiration. Over the mountains, eastward to the Red Sea, lived in their time, as now, a barbarous race, idle, ignorant, nomadic. They have no place in history, and all that the traveller can bring back to show us of their land are pictures of its desolate mountain scenery, its solitary lagoons, and its strange rocky altars of Nature to an Unknown God. If we turn now to Abyssinia, adjoinnmg Nubia on the south, we find nearly the same lack of all memorials of human skill and genius. Nature must still furnish us with our most important pictures. First and chief among these is Lake Tana, the SCENES [NV MANY LANDS. 95 Dembea of the maps, a great body of fresh water, believed by all the early explorers to be the source of the Nile. This lake lies six thousand feet above the level of the sea. It is seventy miles in length and forty in breadth, and apparently was in earlier times of much greater extent, as the flat fertile plains around it indicate. Though subject to violent storms, the Tana is perpetually navigated by the native people, who venture on its surface \ \\ A pee XO Cascade of Antona Kirkos. in little flat-bottomed . boats, made of rushes or bamboo akin to the papyrus of Egypt. Besides rough weather, another danger awaits these frail skiffs, in the shape of countless hippopotami, residents of the lake-shore, and marauders by land and water. When these unwieldy creatures come out on dry ground, however, and ravy- age the fields, the natives turn out in force and kill them; whereupon follow great banquetings, for the flesh of the hippopotamus is an Abyssinian dainty. Lake 96 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Tana contains many islands, which are inhabited chiefly by monks. That this was also the case at a much earlier period is shown by the ruins of large monasteries, and the buildings were evidently of importance. Two small and barren islands, called Dek, served as a state’s prison for civil and ecclesiastical offenders. Upon the shores of the lake the vegetation is luxuriant. Cereals of all kinds thrive there ; cotton grows well; the vine and the peach-tree mature fruit of great excellence. Twenty rivers from the high Abyssinian plateau fall into this lake, and many of them come down in picturesque cascades, quite as beautiful as those more famous ones which a world of travellers admire yearly in Switzerland. We do not overstate the case in estimating the whole number of Abyssinian cascades at more than three Ruined Castle of Guizoara, on the Arno-Garno. thousand. In so great a number, of course, there is a boundless variety, from the mere rapid, tumbling over successive rocks, to the single sheet that falls from so considerable a height that it scatters in spray before reaching the water below. The cascade selected for illustration is that of Amntona Kirkos, which makes so strong a leap from its high level that it describes the arc of a circle, leaving behind it a clear space, through which the adventurous traveller may pass, with the rock on one side, and the green translucent wave of the falling water on the other, as at Niagar: through the Cave of the Winds. Our last Abyssinian picture brings us back to the work of human hands. It is the ruined Castle of Guizoara, of which the date and the builder are not positively known, but are accounted for by legend, as is also the odd Huropean name of the river, the Arno-Garno, on this wise: the castle, it is said, was built for an Abyssinian king by two French architects, the one named Arnaud, the other Garnaud. How they SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 97 came to be in the depths of Abyssinia the story does not mention, and each reader must explain this remarkable circumstance as best he can. On the completion of the edifice, the king, delighted with its foreign beauty, bade the strangers name their reward. After consideration, the Frenchmen replied: “May it please your Majesty to give us each an estate near your castle that we may build two houses and dwell therein.” Now, the river on which the king’s castle stood was formed by two branches, beautiful clear streamlets; and the Frenchmen, being bidden to select their land, chose, the one an estate on the east branch, the other, one on the west. They built their houses, and lived and died there, in friendly neighborhood to the king’s castle. The two little rivers preserved their names, and uniting, flowed, as the Arno-Garno, peacefully down into the Great Lake Tana. Tt must be agreed that this legend (if one could only believe it!) is greatly preferable to the prosaic German commentary, which seeks to derive the river’s name from the Italian Arno, or the Arnon of Judea. Four hundred miles south of the equator lies Zanzibar, island and town, to which we next invite the reader’s attention. The long narrow island is the chief in that chain of coralline outposts which line the east coast of Africa, and rises from the sea in graceful, wavy outlines of softly rounded hills, their surface clad with verdure in every conceivable shade of green, from the light leek color to the deep hue of the laurel. Enchanting is the view of Zanzibar, under the brilliant tropical sky, and no less enchanting the heavy spicy perfume which fills the air from the clove plantations outside the town. ‘The harbor is a fine instance of the barrier reef of coral, raised upon a foundation of sandstone. Outside, in every direction, little clusters of coral islands abound, and the channels among them are intricate and dangerous. Yet the eye rests delighted upon the line of sparkling foam tumbling over the reefs, while in the distance the sea is dark-blue and tranquil, and inside, the shoal water is a clear light green. Entering the harbor, the straight line of the town shows sharply relieved against the woods behind it. The city is quite lacking in minarets and towers, and only the great, square, white buildings of the consulates and of the Iman’s palace rise above the mass of low and wretched hovels forming the inner town. The city is built on a triangular spit, connected with the island by an isthmus three hundred yards wide. Having neither quay nor breakwater, it suffers constant erosion from the sea. This part of the island appears also to be slowly sinking, and thus the action of the water is helped on to such a degree that a point where, fifty years ago, stood a mosque and a little group of huts, is now four fathoms under water. The population of the town is reckoned at sixty thousand by the latest estimates. By the same law which seems to obtain everywhere, the west end of Zanzibar is its 98 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. best quarter. Here European residents make their home, and regard themselves as comparatively safe from the malaria infesting the rest of the town. ‘The centre con- tains the palace and the commercial establishments, while the east end is entirely given up to the poor, and is scarcely tolerable to a foreigner even for the briefest visit. The streets are deep, winding alleys, hardly twenty feet broad; but within a few years a lime pavement and a gutter have been, introduced into many of those in the west end, with notable results in the way of cleanliness and comfort. The material of which houses are built is coral rag, a substance easily worked yet durable,—stone and lime in one. The public buildings are poor and mean, and even the mosques have no beauty save their pointed Saracenic arches. Architecture may be said to be at a very low ebb in Zanzibar. The masonry shows not a single straight line, the arches are not alike in form or size, the floors may have a foot Zanzibar. of depression between the corners and the middle of the room, and no two apart- ments are on the same level. Whatever carpenter’s or locksmith’s work is needed is brought from India. Sentences from the Koran on slips of paper, fastened to the entrances, and now and then an inscription cut in the lintel, secure the house from witchcraft. Against robbers, however, such spiritual defence is not deemed sufficient. Bolts and bars abound, the house-doors have enormous padlocks and are studded thick with nails, and even the little ventilators high up in the walls are closely barred, while the windows themselves are made secure with heavy shutters, closed by night, no matter what may be the heat of the apartments. The long, narrow rooms have but little furniture. Pictures or engravings are unknown; chandeliers and mirrors extremely rare ; a bright-colored rug or two, and half a dozen stiff Indian chairs, comprise all the furniture of a reception room in the best houses in Zanzibar. Saturated with moisture as all this region is, its flora is marvellously luxuriant. Two articles of export, the cocoa-nut and the clove, have made the chief revenue of the island. The former grows in a broad band around the shore, and supplies ae ee a OU = — < ———_ © OO ee eee ee VIEW IN THE HEART OF AFRICA. 100 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. almost all the wants of savage life. It furnishes— besides food, wine, .and spirits — syrup and yinegar, cords, mats, strainers, tinder, fire-wood, houses and palings, boats and sails. The cultivation of the clove-tree has been encouraged, and even for some years required by government, and, profitable as it is, might be of much greater importance in the hands of a more industrious people. The tree is grown from seed, and ripens fruit— which consists, by the way, of the unexpanded flower-buds, if the Hibernicism may be allowed —in the fifth year. The crop must be hand-picked, and should be as much as six pounds to the tree, were it gathered and dried with proper care. Besides the clove and the cocoa-nut, there is an almost countless variety of veg- etable productions of great value. Almost all European vegetables and cereals, as well as those of tropical latitudes, grow in Zanzibar. ‘The sugar-cane would thrive were suf- ficient labor bestowed upon it. The caoutchouc-tree flourishes, and might also become an important article of export. There are several palm-trees, one of which, the Raphia, throws out fronds thirty to forty feet long. There are many varieties of the orange, two of the banana, and the pine-apple hedges grow wild, and mature their delicious fruit in the greatest abundance. The industry of Zanzibar consists mostly in the making of bags and matting from the cocoa-nut fibre. This work is done by the women almost exclusively, and shows great neatness and even taste in the coloring of a rude pattern in madder. There is also a coarse pottery made by the natives. This, however, is of very little importance. In conclusion, their gum copal must not be overlooked, a fossil resin, washed down by the rains, and gathered by them for export, furnishing an impor- tant article of commerce. Far inland from Zanzibar, and nearly in the same latitude, lies the great lake of Southern Africa, Tanganyika, seen for the first time by European eyes in the year 1858. Recent as is its discovery, it has had a traditionary history for more than three centuries. The fame of a great inland sea early reached the Portuguese settlements on both coasts of the continent, and the early voyagers described it — from imagination, unfortunately !— under various names. ‘Tanganyika is its African designation, however, and very appropriately, for the word means “a meeting-place of waters.” | Lake Tanganyika is situated exactly midway between the two coasts of South- ern Africa. Its lay is almost due north and south, and its outline a long oval, widen- ing in the centre, and contracting almost regularly at the extremities, its length being about two hundred and fifty miles and its greatest breadth about twenty. It has not been practicable to take soundings, but the water is believed to be very deep, and though islets are not infrequent along the margin, only one has been observed . in its centre. The shores of the lake are generally low, and a thick fringe of reeds SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 101 and rushes conceals the land and defends it from the action of the waves. Here and there the coast is rough with miniature headlands, whose formation is of sand-~- stone strata, tilted, broken, and dislocated. On the hill summits around it are groves of giant trees; manioc and cereals grow on the slopes, and the lower ground abounds in plantains and Guinea palms. It is now believed that the Tanganyika receives and absorbs the whole river system of that portion of the Central African depression whose watershed conyerges to this great reservoir. It lies much lower than the other lakes, being but eighteen hundred and fifty feet above the sea. Its position and surroundings make it at times a wind-trap, and hence, subject to the most violent and sudden storms. Its water, which is deliciously sweet and pure, is sometimes of a dull sea-green, and at others Lake Tanganyika. of a clear soft blue, light and milky, like tropical seas. Under a strong wind the waves rise in yeasty lines, foaming up from a turbid greenish surface of menacing aspect. There is usually but little variety of temperature upon the lake. By day, in fair weather, there are light, variable breezes, subsiding late in the afternoon, fol- lowed in the evening by a steady wind blowing on shore. There is also a heavy eround-swell rolling in. During the rains, the lake is, as has been said, subject to violent and sudden storms. Around the Tanganyika sixteen tribes have their homes, and they navigate its waters in the rudest of canoes, paddling with a stout staff six feet long. In these canoes. they creep along the shore, and only when the weather is most favorable 102 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. venture to push across. The negro races never work silently, and their paddling is accompanied by a monotonous and melancholy howl, answered by yells and shouts of the chorus, and now and then a shrill boyish scream, while the bray of horns and clang of tomtoms, blown and beaten by men in the bows of the larger canoes, lasts all day, except when some sudden terror reduces everybody to silence. With all this, their usual rate of speed is small enough, at best not over four or five miles an hour, and ordinarily not more than three, or two and a half. Still further south, in the country of the Makololos, are the wonderful Victoria Falls, discovered by Livingston in 1855. This explorer visited them again three years later, and, in all, about twenty Europeans have since made their way through the difficulties and dangers with which this freak of nature is beset. The river Zam- besi rises far inland and flows nearly due south for seven hundred miles of its course; then, at the Victoria Falls, turns eastwardly and makes its way to the ocean, across a distance of eleven hundred miles. The marvel of these falls is this: we have a river three thousand feet broad, whose strong steady current is suddenly swallowed up by a deep and narrow fis- sure in the rock which forms its bed, so that the stream itself seems to have dis- appeared into the earth, until, coming to the very edge of the crevasse, we look down and see it, four hundred feet below, making its way off through the extension of this chasm, in an eastwardly direction, almost exactly at right angles to its for- mer course. On three sides of the river are ridges, three or four hundred feet high, cov- ered with forests, the red soil appearing among the trees. From a distance of five or six miles away, the five great columns of vapor are seen, white below, higher up becoming darker in color, blown back a little by the wind, and seeming to mingle with the clouds. These columns are caused by the compression the water suffers in its fall into a wedge-shaped space, whose unyielding basalt walls offer no possible escape to the tormented flood. A small island lies on the lip of the chasm, and is reached in a canoe, by much careful piloting among the rapids. Landing, the explorer makes his way to the edge and looks over. On the right of the island one sees nothing but a dense white cloud, which, when the sun is high, has two rainbows in it. From this cloud rushes up a great jet of vapor like escaping steam, to a height of two or three hundred feet; then, condensing, it falls in a perpetual shower of rain, which chiefly comes to the ground across the chasm, where, some yards back from the edge, grows a row of evergreen trees, kept perpetually wet by this shower. From about their roots a number of little streamlets gather and run down towards the gulf; but as they drop over the steep wall, the ascending vapor licks them up and they disappear. Thus they are always running down, but never reach the bottom. On the left of the ve SS SSS 5S SS VICTORIA FALLS, 104 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. island, the water is seen, a white rolling mass, moving tumultuously towards the escape open to it at the left. Further in this direction the fissure deepens, and its edges are more sloping, so that one can slide partially down towards the water. At the Falls the chasm is only eighty feet wide, but at the outlet of the river it opens to a width of two hundred and seventy feet, making short zigzags, separated by narrow ledges, scarcely broader in some cases than a footpath. The illustration on the preceding page is made from a sketch taken on the spot; it is, therefore, for the most part accurate; but to see into the chasm as much as is here represented, the observer must be standing on the very edge of the preci- pice. The three central columns should be less in size than the others, and all should haye a more conical form. "With these changes, the reader may rely on the absolute fidelity of the sketch. i a i) | 4 SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 105 MADAGASCAR AND MAURITIUS, ) ADAGASCAR, an island lying along the South African coast, separated from the continent by the Channel of Mozambique, is, after Borneo and New Guinea, the largest island in the world, being nine hundred miles in length and four hundred in breadth. Its surface has great variety, making it really a miniature con- tinent, with its system of rivers and mountains, lakes and plains. Along the shore it is generally level, with the exception of the south-eastern coast, where the mountains approach very near es ye: 7% » the sea; and a great dorsal range, with parallel ridges, runs from XQEAS ez 4 north to south the whole length of the island, rismg into peaks eight Ate or nine thousand feet high. In this mountainous region of Madagas- ~ car there is every variety of highland scenery, countless lakes and WW) ie y 5 y> | le rocky torrents, and immense solitary plateaus, quite uninhabited by man. ad The population of the island is conjecturally stated by different ‘) PoP J 7 y 1s travellers, their estimates varying from a million and a half to six if ‘ million inhabitants. It is well understood, however, that four different AMP races are found here: the Kaffirs in the south; in the west, the ay negroes; at the north, the Arab race; and on the east coast and in the interior, the Malays. These principal races are divided into many tribes, of which the Horas, of Malay blood, are the most numerous and important, and have obtained, since the commencement of the present century, almost the entire control of the island. The Port of Tamataya is the best on the coast, and is the point at which travellers usually begin their exploration of Madagascar. A journey of a few miles inland or northward at once opens to the view all the marvels of vegetation for which the island is renowned. The road is but a winding footpath, leading up hill and down, crossing chasms on fallen tree-trunks, and everywhere affording glimpses of exquisite pictures, endowed with all the virgin beauty of a primeval paradise. Two or three varieties of the pandanus are remarkable. One, not over twelve feet high, has the centre leaves of its head stuck together at their points, while the 106 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. outer ones, free and pendulous, resemble the leaves with which the Chinese line their tea-chests. Another pandanus, tall and straight as a fir-tree, forty or fifty feet high, and crowned with an upright plume, sends off long horizontal branches, with feath- — ery tips of flag-like leaves, suggesting a gigantic larch, except for the stiffness of its growth. The Urania speciosa, known as .the Traveller’s Tree, rises from the ground with a thick succulent stem like a plantain, and at a height of thirty feet begins to send out from its centre alternate long broad leaves, the lower ones extending horizontally, and drooping so that the tree is like a great palm-leaf fan in shape. ‘The stem or trunk becomes hard and dry for a distance of ten or twelve feet up from the ground, when it reaches its maturity, in order to sustain the leafy weight above it; but the tree never loses the effect of being some gigantic vegetable. There are twenty or more leaves in all, each leaf being five or six feet long, upon a stalk perhaps eight feet in length. The effect of this cluster of bright light-green leaves, spreading out like a fan on a handle thirty feet long, is most extraordinary and beautiful, and ‘is conspicuous for miles away. Seen along a mountain crest, they are like a row of Indian sachems with plumed heads. Within this leafy cluster are three or four branches of seed-pods, resembling the fruit of the plantain. There are forty or fifty pods on each branch, and when they ripen they burst open, showing - thirty or more seeds within, each about the size of a bean, and enclosed in an enyelope of dark-blue silk, like that of corn. The usefulness of the Urania speciosa is no less remarkable. Its common designa- tion, the “ 'Traveller’s Tree,” is due to the fact that it furnishes water to the passer-by, with which he may safely quench his thirst. To obtain this water it is only needful to pierce the leaf-stalks about six inches above the point where they spring from the tree, and each stalk will furnish more than a quart of the pure clear liquid. It is not a secretion of the tree, but the result of a mechanical contrivance, so to speak. There is a natural cavity at the base of each stem, into which the water collected from rains on the broad ribbed surface of the leaf, runs down and collects in abundance. But the Urania might also be called the “ Builder’s Tree” ; its leaves are used to thatch all the houses on the east coast of the island, its stems, neatly laid together, form the partitions and often the sides of the building, and the outside bark, stripped from the soft part of the trunk and beaten flat, is laid for the floors in pieces a foot and a half wide and twenty or thirty feet long. Besides these uses, the leaves of the Urania, when green, are used as wrappers for packages, and are daily sold in the market of Tamatava for table-cloths, dishes and plates, and, properly adjusted, for drinking-vessels and spoons. The bamboo, abundant in the forests of Madagascar, is exceedingly graceful. In one variety it grows as a creeper, sending out stems composed of small joints feathered with slender leafy branches, and hanging in festoons from tree to tree. In another it HU i) } : : vii! hh uy Uh \ ) \ A U r . See \N \ Wy . Ma \ | EN i 1h \ Wil) Will } if. AW RAY WW \ WX iN i | | Wislopt ML) Ss > SS SSN H » CROSSING A CHASM IN MADAGASCAR. 108 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. grows straight and self-supporting to a height of forty feet, fringed at every joint with its circlet of little branches covered with long, lance-shaped leaves. The slender stem swaying in the wind, with all its plumy mass of leaves, is a picture of rare and ever-varying beauty. ? | The abundance of flowering plants and ferns in this garden of Nature is also marvellous. Orchids in every variety are abundant; not only do they grow in the ground like their kindred in other lands, but-— to leave no place unadorned — they find support and nourishment far up in trees. Sometimes in the axil of a great branch of some dead and whitened tree, where there is not left a fragment of bark, one sees a bunch of moss and a cluster of orchids growing with the greatest vigor; or at the top of a tall trunk, thirty feet from the ground, a mass of the Angrecus, with its The Baobab Tree. long fleshy leaves; or a bird’s-nest fern thrives, as if in a rustic flower-pot, planted there and tended by no hand save that of Nature herself. Countless flowers adorn the hill-sides, and the soft, verdurous meadows; many of them are unfamiliar, but the European stranger sees with delight a blue Tradescantia, like the forget-me-not of home, and heath with pink and lilac blossoms, the same— save for added luxuriance —as that which grows upon the moors of Scotland. We must not forget the giant and veteran of all tropical forests, the monstrous Baobab, whose age is often reckoned, not merely by hundreds, but by thousands of years. This tree was discovered by Adanson in South Africa, in 1748, and has been found upon the western coast of Madagascar. It attains a height of sixty feet, and its trunk has a circumference of seventy or seventy-five feet. Its lower branches stretch out horizontally to a great distance, and droop at their extremities almost to SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 109 touch the ground. ‘The leaves are dark green, and compound, being composed of five radiating leaflets. The flower is large and white, and the fruit about the size of a quart bottle, and, though eaten by the natives, is regarded rather as medicine than food. It seems impossible to destroy this tree, for even when cut down, it still grows in its horizontal position, while its huge roots, forty or fifty feet long, still retain their vitality and send up new growth. ‘The Baobab perishes, however, in some instances, by a singular disease of its own fibre, a softening of the woody tissue, which, going on for some time imperceptibly, suddenly crushes the tree in upon itself, a mass of ruin. Our illustration below represents a chief’s cabin at Tamatava, the seaport to which we have before referred. It shows us a well-built dwelling forty feet long Chief’s Cabin at Tamatava. and between thirty and forty feet high. Externally the structure is composed entirely of stems and leaves of the Traveller’s Tree. Could we enter, we should find a neat, well-laid floor, a fine large mat in the centre, and an English four-post bedstead in one corner, piled with comfortable sleeping-mats ; in another corner, choice cooking utensils and bags of rice and other stores, with materials for making mats. English and European weapons are hung against the walls; in the centre of the room is a table of native workmanship, and, scattered here and there, various chairs and rude seats made of matting, resembling high square ottomans. The walls of this cabin inside are covered with rofia cloth, a material of native fabrication, made by the women, who weave it, in a kind of rude loom, from the fibrous inner bark of the Rofia palm. Five hundred miles eastward of Madagascar lies the island of Mauritius, which 110 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. has been for three centuries a European colony, belonging in turn to Holland, to France, and to England. Discovered by a Portuguese navigator, it was first. taken possession of by the Dutch in 1598, who gave it the name Mauritius, in honor of Prince Maurice of Nassau. They occupied the island till 1712, then relinquished it, to concentrate their strength at the Cape of Good Hope. ‘Three years later, M. Dufresne laid claim to it in the name of the French government, and in 1721 it received the name of the Isle of France. During the French Revolution the island was governed by colonial assemblies, but in 1810 was captured by the English, whose rights being recognized by the treaties of 1814 and 1815, it has since remained an English colony, under its earlier name, Mauritius. The island is thirty-nine miles long and thirty-four broad, at its extreme dimen- sions, and has been estimated to contain a population of nearly three hundred thou- sand inhabitants. Its scenery is extremely picturesque, from the grand and _ bold : | | | oN th LGA YANN mI Mm Port Louis, Quay. outlines of its lofty hills, with their peculiarly formed summits. The northern part of the island is a vast plain covered with cane lands; the centre, an elevated plateau, fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea; and the coast is deeply indented with bays, affording many good harbors, of which Port Louis, Black River, and | Grand Port are the chief. The climate of Mauritius is agreeable, though extremely hot from December to April. In May it begins to grow cooler, and until Novem- ber remains delightful. The chief industry of the island is the raising of sugar, which, with the rum distilled from the refuse cane, gives Mauritius its importance in the commercial world, and attracts to its harbor the vessels of all nations. The plantations are cultivated by coolies from Madras and Bombay, who are estimated to be two thirds of the entire population. The city of Port Louis occupies as large an. area as Rouen or Bordeaux, but is somewhat less populous. The streets are broad and regular. There is a French — cathedral, a Protestant church, two mosques, a fine bazaar built of iron and glass, a SCENES IN MANY LANDS. — 111 theatre, and magnificent dry docks. The dwelling-houses of Port Louis are one or two stories in height, and usually built of stone, colored white or yellow. They are pro- tected from the sun by verandas and lattice work, and stand within enclosures opening by wide ornamental gateways upon the principal streets. These court-yards are planted with flowers and filled with the rarest and most beautiful tropical trees. Among: these are the bread-fruit and the tamarind, with its lofty light-green foliage, the bamboo, the cocoa-nut, and two or three varieties of palms. Of flowering trees the display has no equal in the world, consisting of Ixoras and Hibiscus, with blossoms of every hue; the Poinsetta pulcherrima, with its deep crimson bracts; the snap-dragon, UU Oe CAR COMY au Black River. or Pterocarpus, at times a large tree, all a mass of yellow bloom; the Hugenia, with ‘pink, myrtle-like flowers; the Kigha pinnata, or chandelier-tree, covered with purple bells, resembling those of the Cobewa scandens ; and, conspicuous above all, the Poin- cinia regia, a compact grower and regular in form, forty or fifty feet tall, and from December to April presenting, amid its delicate, pea-green, pinnated leaves, a vast pyramid of clusters of dazzling scarlet flowers. Seen over the tops of the houses, or standing out in open ground, this is one of the most magnificent of trees. Be- sides these grander displays of floral beauty, Port Louis is full of ornamental shrubs and hot-house plants, growing as freely as our lilacs and syringas. Double and single oleanders, and pink-leaved Dracenas, are in every garden. Superb Braughman- sias, with their white trumpet-shaped flowers, festoon the verandas. The Stephanotis 112 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. climbs up the lattices, disputing for space with the passion-flower. The Lantana aurantiaca forms compact hedges, and elegant cactuses, presenting at times long masses of bright-yellow flowers, are cut off the tops and sides of walls with a sickle or bill-hook. A few miles south of Port Louis we come to the Black River region, one of the wildest parts of Mauritius. The little stream, represented on page 111, whose very clear waters flow over a pebbly bed, takes its rise in the central plateau of the island, and all the way to the sea is a series of little falls and shallows, a true New England brook. We have said that the coast of Mauritius is deeply indented with bays abound- WA | t] \\ i | | ul ly i Hy KARL. GRARDETE= Natural Bridge near Mahebourg. ing in picturesque effects. Much of this is due to the basalt formation of a large part of the island, which is cut away in sections, so to speak, along the coast by the action of the water, leaving odd-shaped cavities and projections. Of these, one of the most curious is a Natural Bridge, on the south coast, not far from Mahe- bourg, a town of some importance, founded in 1805. This is, as is seen in the illus- tration, a deep indentation in the coast, barred by a section of rock yet remain- ing in spite of the action of the waves. In the centre the rock makes a pier, and an arch extends to the mainland on either side. The top of the bridge, though irregular, affords safe footing, and it is said that an Englishman once crossed it on horseback. < “a SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 113 CONSTANTINOPLE AND ASIATIC TURKEY. dawn of day. By degrees the pale mists of early morning scat- ter, and as ‘the anchor bites the sand of the Golden Horn, the traveller finds himself in the presence of a scene whose beauty can never be overstated. ‘The first sight of Constantinople equals one’s dreams, and surpasses one’s hopes. There are but few things in the world of which this can be said. To do justice to this picture and to the details that make it up, as ay day by day we explore and admire them, is, unhappily, impossible for us ; Ny Ne but we believe the following illustrations may suggest in some degree the ey splendors and the contrasts which meet us at every step. ae We shall commence with the ancient Palace, which has been the scene wr of so much history and tragedy, and to-day is unused by the sultan vANN save on state occasions, when some public ceremony takes place within its 4 walls. i S : The Seraglio is like a city within a city. It is nearly a regular tri- angle, lying upon the side of a hill which it covers with its kiosques and gardens. Its white walls, crenellated and flanked with towers, are washed on one side by the waters of the Sea of Marmora, rapid as a torrent, and on the other by the calmer current of the Golden Horn. The enclosure measures three miles in circumference. It is entered from the square of St. Sophia by a magnificent gateway, which is no other than the Sublime Porte itself. This gateway is surmounted by a lofty Moorish arcade, supported by four columns, and bearing an inscription in letters of gold. Entering beneath these lofty arches, we find ourselves in an extensive court, laid out like a park. MHere gigantic palm-trees stand in groups upon the velvet turf; further on, avenues of cypress, interlaced with vines whose amber grapes hang in tempting clusters ; here and there, tufts of jasmine, stars of perfumed silver, shining amid the dark foliage; everywhere roses. The rose is the sultan’s flower. At intervals under the trees are squares filled with the vegetables of the kitchen 114 - VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. garden; above them waye the tall heads of the Indian corn; and as a framework for the whole, the most luxuriant grass, cut by long and winding avenues, until at last the view ends with an irregular thicket of oaks and pines. : The Seraglio buildings lie in line, but the architect has known how to avoid anything like monotony in their construction. Long facades are interrupted by pavil- ions; unexpected projections break the outline just as it would become wearisome ; Persian kiosques, slender, light, aérial, vaporous, are united to one another by gal- leries, resting on sheaves of columns that expand into ogives and trefoils. Everything is varied ; even the roofs, which are so monotonous in Western architecture, here assume an endless diversity of outline. ‘To awnings of pagodas succeed cupolas sheathed in tin, and sending back in silvery reflections the rays of an Oriental sun; kiosques are coifed with Chinese hats ; flat balustraded roofs extend over the galle- ries; the dome, in every size and shape, is represented here up to the great cupola of the main structure, which bears aloft the double tip of its golden crescent. With all this, there is much delicate painting and fine carved wood-work ; arabesques that chase each other, changing from blue to green; balconies with iron leafage; and lattices before the harem windows, — making an ensemble of endless novelty and charm. — | The interior of the Seraglio hardly answers to the expectations raised by its ex- terior aspect. ‘There are vast apartments without character, great empty halls, whose only charm is in the wonderful water view from their windows. Two or three halls grouped in a kiosque, and devoted to the sultan’s bath, are of exceptional beauty. They are entirely of white marble, and decorated in Moor- ish style, with an exquisite refinement of taste. The delicate stone, cut like a jewel, spreads out in flowers and foliage, wreathing the capitals of the columns, and the lintels of the doors, with arabesques and festoons. The ceiling of the central hall is a marvel; small oval panes of glass, so richly colored that one takes them for thin layers of onyx and transparent agate, are set in a network of gold and silver, and transmit a light so soft and exquisite that it adds inexpressibly to the beauty of the apartment. Broad, luxurious divans extend along the walls, and here and there handsome yases decorate the porphyry etagéres. | One of the most dainty little structures of the Seraglio is the Sultan’s Fountain. This also belongs to the best epoch of Mahometan architecture. Its outer walls are of marble, decorated with exquisite sculpture; at intervals, upon a blue background, run arabesques of gold ; above the cornice, with its grotesque yet elegant mosaics, rises the pointed and projecting roof, which gives the whole work its suitable crown. Within, the water tinkles and sings all day long. It is cold and sparkling, and the passer-by has but to ask for a draught, and it will be given him by a seryant in the imperial livery, who is on duty there from sunrise to sunset. 2h i i | i HN \ SUMMER PARLOR IN THE SERAGLIO. 116 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Leaving behind us the Palace, it is but a few steps to the great Square, now known as the At-Meidan, anciently the Hippodrome. It is a large, irregular, open space, bounded on one side by the wall of Sultan Achmed’s Mosque, on the other by ruins or scattered buildings. In the centre is the Obelisk of Theodosius, the Ser- pentine Column, and the Walled Pyramid. These are all that remain of the glories of the ancient Byzantium. The Hippodrome of those days was a splendid sight when a crowd, brilliant in the richest dress and sparkling with gold and jewels, thronged its porticos, watching the golden cars, drawn by superb horses, scattering with rapid wheels the blue and vermilion powder with which the track was covered for the chariot-races. Besides this living population, the great square was filled with a crowd of marble figures of the rarest beauty. It was indeed an out-of-door museum, to which all the civilized world contributed of its best. Here stood the horses of Lysippus, which now adorn the Venetian temple of St. Mark; here were statues of Augustus and the other emperors, and countless heroes and divinities from the Greek Pantheon. All these, alas! are gone; and where the rude Turkish market is gath. ered, day by day, under its striped awnings, remain, as we have said; but three relics of the Byzantine time. Of these, the Obelisk is in the best preservation. It is a quadrangular monolith, of rose granite, sixty feet high, and about six in diameter at the base, diminishing gradually in size till it ends in a point at the apex. A single vertical line of sharp- cut hieroglyphics marks each of its four faces. It is of course an Hgyptian mon- ument, but probably not over three thousand years old, and was brought from Heliopolis. The column is separated from its pedestal by four bronze cubes of suitable size; the pedestal itself is decorated with rude sculpture, representing the 1echanical contrivances by which the obelisk was raised to its present position, and bears an inscription telling that the work was done in thirty-two days. The Serpentine Column is a curious group of three serpents in an erect posi- tion, now not more than nine feet high, since their bronze heads were knocked off by Mussulman bigotry. This column was originally offered to Apollo, and stood in the Delphian temple, whence Constantine transported it to his new capital. Juastly, the Walled Pyramid deserves mention, erected at the extreme end of the Hippodrome, as the turning-point for the chariots in the race. It is now only a shapeless mass of rocks, but was originally all covered with plates of gilded bronze. One may fancy how superb this pyramid was in its time. And now from Constantinople we step forth, as through some majestic gateway, into the Hast, and Asia Minor allures us, with her history of so many thousand years, filled with the deeds of illustrious men, and the annals of famous nations. In Asia Minor it was that Sesostris, thirty centuries ago, hurled his armies against the Scythians, who had swarmed thither from the Asiatic steppes; here was FBV RENN SC Wi PAU saat SN fli Hl ae , ‘ . se Paull el ook = eS; xs es meee eae INTERIOR OF A KIOSQUE IN THE SERAGLIO. 118 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the scene where fable places the achievements of the Greek gods; Homer, who sang their epic, Thales the Wise, the shrewd -Atsop, Herodotus, Apelles the wonderful painter, were children of this soil. Here Greece found as it were a second life in her colonies, which, in splendor of arts and letters, were not a whit behind the mother country, and Rome gladly owned that here was the cradle of her infant years. This classic soil has been the battlefield of those colossal strifes between the East and West which mark the great epochs of history. Then, when the light of Christianity dawned upon the world in the adjacent Syrian country, Asia Minor gained new splendor from it. St. Paul and St. Barnabas here preached the Gospel ; St. John is said to have been bishop of Ephesus, and the lofty destinies of the Seven Churches of Asia were proclaimed by the Apocalyptic Angel. Diocletian, the last of the persecuting emperors, laid aside the imperial purple at Nicomedia; and not far from that town, Constantine yielded up his soul to God. The first Gicumenical Council was held at Niczea ; Ephesus and Chalcedon received in their turn the fathers of the Church; but soon, upon the ruins of Greek temples, and upon the ruins of Christian churches, new invaders planted the standard of - Mahomet. That no people upon earth might remain strangers to this land, that no renown might be lacking to it, hatred to the Crescent drew hither the nations of Western Europe; the armies of the Crusaders traversed it again and again. Peter the Her- mit has been here, Godfrey de Bouillon, King Louis of France, the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. Remotest Asia, represented by Tamerlane, came in her turn to this rendezvous of the nations. No other country beneath the sun has such a history. The charm of its souvenirs ought, then, to call the traveller to it, even though it offered but little natural beauty to his observation. But this is not the case: its mountains, clad with their dense forests; its rivers and lakes, along whose shores lie the ruins of many an ancient city ; its coasts, bathed by the most poetic of seas, — give to the sites of Asia Minor a stamp of grandeur worthy of her historic renown. Such is the country we shall now hastily explore. Leaving Constantinople at sunset one day, the next day at sunrise we are in the Gulf of Nicomedia, the Astacus sinus of the ancients. Like the Bosphorus, it is framed in well-wooded hills, whose slopes were once crowned with villas of the Byzantine nobles ; to-day there are only a few scattered hamlets, of no importance save for their names, which are famous in history. At eight in the morning we drop anchor opposite Nicomedia. The city looks well from the water; it covers the side of a hill, — masses of verdure, cupolas, min- arets, showing here and there among groups of houses. Half-way up the hill is ‘OITINVUAS AHL NI NIVLINONOA “WISTITON "MORIIL =< %. sa PL ee My 1 arte SA p = A, Z; a noe ok MA wr ea I —_— = ——— —= IS SS SS SK X 3 Pay 1 | => = ———SSSs— == SS ] = Q VE i i ae eS <—s a 2 : 2 a = = = ——? her] = = = a SSS SS NU = = = = = Se SSX\ 7 2S = = S| —— = <== - = ~~ = San - = = = = ~ 120 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the Sultan’s Kiosque, a recent building and of no importance; it recalls neither the palace of Diocletian, built here the same year in which the emperor signed the edict of persecution against the Christians, nor the one erected in the seventeenth century by Murad IV., of which the last vestiges have disappeared. Near it are the ship- yards which for centuries have produced those gallant barks dreaded of Christen- dom. Times have changed; they no longer prepare danger for Europe; and, indeed, to-day, the chief ship-building is carried on Nicomedia. at Constantinople. Still Nicomedia~ fur- nishes its contingent. Opposite to us is a frigate in process of construction. Of the ancient Nicomedia, capital of Bithynia, founded by Nicomedes I. at the end of the fourth “century before our era, and embellished by the younger Pliny, the Em- peror Trajan’s representative, and by Diocletian, there remains only a broken bit of wall, and a few other ruins scarce worthy of the traveller’s attention. Nicomedia, to- day, is the principal town of Kodja-Ili, one of the territorial divisions of the Ottoman Empire; it has fifteen or twenty thousand inhabitants, the Christian element being about one sixth of the whole population. | A two days’ journey on horseback brings us to our second point, the ancient city of Nicea. As we descend from the wooded plateau separating the valley of the Sangarius from that which is watered by Lake Ascanius, a succession of farms announce to us the neighborhood of a city; this is Nica. A thicket of tall trees hides it from view. No noise betrays its existence, and we are close under its ven-. erable walls before we have had time to prepare ourselves for this scene, which touches us so profoundly. There are few ruins in Asia Minor that appeal so strongly to the imagination as do these ruins of Nicza. ‘Travellers have not generally done them justice; rarely can the artist find ancient remains of so much importance framed in so charming a landscape ; nowhere will the poet feel such a wealth of melancholy interest. Built by Antigonus, a few years after the death of Alexander the Great, Nicsa would offer to the observer specimens of classic Greek art, had not time, earth- quakes, Scythian and other barbarous invasions, and the ravages occasioned by numerous sieges, entirely destroyed its primitive monuments. Fragments of them must be sought, built into more modern edifices, and especially into the city walls, for which they furnished abundant materials. Here, the shaft of a column forms the lintel of a gateway ; there, a Corinthian capital is brought to view by the falling of a portion of the sheathing; further on, entire sections of the rampart are covered with tumu- + = = =— = =f: SS = SSS = o = = Ta | = 4 wn = = mri ; Ss Hill e h fran BA Pad cma ST Re | | we « u ir THE AT-MEIDAN OR HIPPODROME. 122 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. lary stones, or made of blocks of white marble, debris of pilasters and architraves, once portions of Greek temples. Rome, and, after Rome, Byzantium, almost everywhere in Asia Minor, covered the conquered land with a new stratum of architectural achievements. ‘The Nicean Theatre belongs to the time of the Younger Pliny, who, in his letters, gives Trajan the details of the construction of this edifice ; to-day it is a confused mass of arches and seats, constructed of massive hewn stones, through which struggles up into the light a wilderness of Inxuriant verdure. Two of the principal gates of the city are adorned with triumphal arches of white marble, erected in the time of the Emperor Adrian. The defensive works with which they were surrounded in the middle ages, and the raised level of the ground about them, materially impair their beauty. The Byzantine epoch is represented by remains much more numerous; of these the chief are the city walls, — curious as fortifications, and interesting in the light of the great strifes that many times went on around them. ‘They exist almost without a breach, and measure more than thirteen thousand feet in length. Their original construction goes back to the fourth century ; but they have undergone successive augmentations and changes, as is shown by many inscriptions. The wall is double, composed of the meniwm and the agger,—to use the Latin terms, — the latter of. less height than the former; and is flanked by two hundred and eighty-three towers. The mortar which forms the nucleus of this wall is covered with a sheathing of bricks laid horizontally, alternating with courses of hewn stone, making a sort of odd mosaic. The crenellation which surmounted it has been almost entirely destroyed. The Lower Empire endowed Niczea with many churches: one, which now serves the Greeks as a cathedral, seems to date from the twelfth century ; another, the Aghia- Sophia, has lost its cupola and its arches, but presents still an imposing aspect, and shows fragments of mosaics through the invading branches of the fig-trees which have overgrown the place. Some authors have sought to find here the scene of the First Council; this supposition may be true in relation to the Second Council of Nicwa (788); but it is well known that the first of these assemblies was held in the imperial palace, of which no trace now remains, the church of Aghia-Sophia offering, besides, architectural characteristics which fix its date in the sixth century, and give us reason to believe that it was built by Justinian. The sultans in their turn have taken no less pains than did the emperors in the decoration of Nica. The Seleucid of Iconium introduced here that charming archi- tecture, a mélange of Indian, Persian, and Byzantine elements, commonly called the Arab style. The first princes of the family of Osman had the good taste to respect its traditions, and it is like a glimpse of Bagdad, when, entering Nicza by the Gate of Lefké, we suddenly see glittering above the sombre masses of the other ruins, the enamelled faience minaret of the Yéchil-Djami, or Green Mosque, wherein the most brilliant tints, red, green, and blue, rival each other in vividness and lustre. Pe SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 123 The mosque is really exquisite; the balustrades around the portico, the arabesques cut into the white marble of the fagade, can bear comparison with the most graceful creations of the Moors in Spain. One sighs to see the neglected condition of this beautiful structure. The Yechil-Djami is, however, still occupied for purposes of worship. It is at- tached to a religious school, where a dozen students are maintained. These poor boys occupy a row of little cells, ranged like a horse-shoe around the sides of an orchard, the mosque making the fourth side, and devote themselves to the study of the Koran with every appearance of the deepest melancholy. Near this building are the ruins of a large and handsome structure, surmounted with many cupolas, and made of brick and stone; this contained baths. It is well known that the Mahometan people attach great importance to establishments of this kind, and believe that it is impossible to make them too luxurious and splendid. Niczea. The Green Mosque. An inscription at the back of the portico indicates their foundress, Nilufer, daughter of Sultan Murad. The date is the year 790 of the Hegira, — 1388 of our Era. The Yéchil-Djami bears also, graven on its facade, the name of its founder, the famous Vizier Khayr-Eddin, the conqueror at Salonica. The mosque is older by ten years than the baths. From the midst of this debris of pagan, Christian, and Mahometan edifices, abounding in contrasts as it does, rise the pointed arches and balustrades and min- arets of ancient mosques. To describe them would be tiresome; but this wealth of details makes the grandeur of the ensemble of the picture presented by the ruins of Nicewa. Gladly would we recall the historic associations belonging to this ancient city, from the time of Constantine and the First Council down to the period of the Crusaders, but space forbids. Nicwa, to-day, is a little city of two thousand inhab- itants, mostly Christians. Orchards and gardens grow close around its walls on the east and north, and the leakage of the ancient aqueducts, which bring abundant water from the mountains, makes that side of the town a swamp, and renders Nicza one of the cities of Asia Minor most habitually ravaged by fever. 124 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Again, a two days’ journey on horseback, and about sunset, one evening in Sep- tember, we come in sight of Broussa, —a wreath of minarets and cupolas hung upon the side of Mount Olympus. ‘The town is but fifteen miles from the seaport of Mon- dania, whence runs a regular line of steamers to Constantinople, and many visitors to the ‘Turkish capital make the excursion to Broussa a part of their programme. It offers the attraction of a good hotel, and of hot springs highly esteemed as a remedial agency, while the manufacture of silk draws thither many Greek merchants, who make the town their home for a large part of the year. Broussa is the most beautiful city of Asia Minor. Sheltered on the north by the craggy, wooded heights of Olympus, which furnish it with abundant water, it overlooks a wide and fertile valley; in summer its heat is tempered by mountain and sea breezes; a belt of great trees — cypress, plantain, poplars, chestnuts — surrounds Broussa. Sultan Bajazet’s Mosque. it, stretching away, as far as the eye can see, to meet the mulberry trees which fill the valley,—entering the city, to unite with the groves that cluster around each mosque. Next to the three holy cities, Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem, Broussa claims the veneration of the faithful Mahometan, for it has been the scene of some of. the most memorable struggles of Islam. Here rest the mortal remains of their earliest sultans, of their bravest warriors, of dervishes-and santons, most illustrious of their saints. ‘There are nearly six hundred tombs of princes and heroes within the walls of this little city, and, they say, as many mosques, oratories, sepulchral chapels, and convents, as there are days in the year. Most of these monuments date from the fifteenth century ; many are defaced and ruinous, but by their multitude and variety they all aid in giving Broussa an air of grandeur. . a - ~ a) SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 125 The city lies, for a length of three miles, along a series of hillocks at the base of Olympus; the highest of these hillocks, girt with strong walls and flanked with square towers, bears on its top the city properly so called, the ancient town, the citadel. All the others are but a series of suburbs. But at Broussa, as in many other warlike places transformed into rich capitals, the accessory has become the Huy = Sardis. Ruins of a Church. principal. The narrow limits of the citadel contain a few crowded streets where the Turks of the old school remain sheltered as in an ark of safety. Se == = = —— = aa = = = = ——— SSS SSS — Epa == = = pee eS = = = eS ee ———— = l=" 130 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS.- Diana, twice built and twice destroyed, has perished so completely that no vestige is left to tell where once it stood. The other ruins are of Roman origin. There are yet left the broken walls of the Agora, a gymnasium whose massive arches present an air of grandeur, the Stadium, and the great Amphitheatre. From Smyrna, a line of steamers runs to Beyrout, stopping at the larger islands on the way. == = SS os oi oF = yy i = z = SES —_— 140 , VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. —=— —— = =— ————— ne —— = ——$—— S=—— S55 SS —>, ———— AAD ANN = g\se Cascade in the Taurus. The Taurus has been famous from all antiquity: tradition makes it the home of gods and heroes; it is full of the ruins of an ancient civilization, which perished completely under the invasion of the barbarous nomads of Central Asia. Among these mountains, formerly peopled by so many different nations, to-day there are only little hamlets of poor Turkomans, and encampments of Yourouks, whose existence is rather that of the brigand than of the shepherd. ite ema ie, 5 ‘IHMOHSVAS ‘GCNOZISAXYNL ane TM a, = ipa lj HI i 142 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The illustration, page 140, represents one of the many cascades with which this region abounds. A special interest is attached to this place, since near here the Crusaders are believed to have encamped on their way to Palestine, and the ruins of a chateau in the immediate neighborhood are described by Albert of Aix, who calls it the Castle of Butrentum. With these glimpses of the south of Asia Minor, we now turn to the northern provinces, beginning with Trebizond, which lies along the south-eastern shore of the Black Sea. There is now a weekly line of steamers from Constantinople to the city of Trebizond, and Western influences are largely at work here, effacing in some degree Oriental costumes and Oriental manners. The city, built like an amphitheatre along the sea-shore, is extremely picturesque as we approach by water. ‘There is a line of buildings of varied outline, all painted Fortifications of Trebizond. in bright colors, and behind them, rising and retreating up the hill, are others in equal variety, scattered among thick clumps of fruit-trees with dark-green foliage, while here and there a slender white minaret stands up clear and sharply cut against the blue background of the sky. The mosques themselyes, about forty in number, are not very remarkable, and, except the Mosque of Saint Sophia, a little distance out of town, the only really interesting one is a transformed Byzantine church, of which the exterior is in part covered with mosaics. The town divides itself into the Turkish and the Christian quarters. The for- mer occupies the western half of Trebizond, and is shut in by a line of high walls, defended by solid towers. These walls have a rocky foundation, and beneath them are great ravines overgrown with luxuriant vegetation. The ivy climbs over the gates, : and here and there hides from our sight part of the Greek inscription which. tells of an earlier time, and a people long since passed away. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 143 The Christian quarter is not very attractive, from an architectural point of view. Here, however, we find the principal bazaar, and after some little experience, learn what treasures may be discovered in it. The richest carpets of Persia, Khorassan, and Smyrna, the woollen and silk stuffs of Aleppo, Diarbekir, and Broussa, the finest filigree-work in silver, precious stones of great value, rare and curious weapons, ancient coins, may be bought — and sometimes at prices not too high — by him who has learned the craft and mystery of Oriental bargaining. Passing through the bazaar, we emerge into a little open square by the shore, where, on market-days, one sees much that is amusing and characteristic. There, on a ruimous pier, said to have been constructed by the Genoese, the caiques and sandals of all the neighboring coast land their various merchandise. Boats from Platana and Surmineh bring loads of fruit and vegetables, wood and cereals. Others are taking on board the rude pottery made in such quantities at Trebizond. Others bring troops of peasants, whose costumes enliven the picture. The little square is all alive with a gay and bustling crowd. So, too, is the bazaar itself, on certain days in the week, when the people of the neighboring mountains come down to sell their cattle and the produce of their gardens. All that they can they bring upon their shoulders, but the heavier burdens must be loaded upon donkeys and horses, or in carts drawn by oxen and _ buffaloes. This produce they exchange for woollen stuffs, fire-arms, and various small articles of daily use. Of all these scenes, the most curious is_ that when we encounter a long caravan of camels, horses, or mules, arriving from the interior with bales of cotton to be deposited ‘in some khan, or in the storehouse of some rich merchant. The tumult and confusion, especially the noise, is indescribable; the cries of the drivers mingle with the shrieks of the passers-by, half crushed in the narrow lanes, and of the tradesmen whose awnings are carried away on the top of some animal’s load ; and, over all, the angry growl of the camels, a sound most peculiar and distressing. The population of Trebizond is estimated at forty thousand inhabitants, and con- sists of Turks, Persians, Armenians of the Gregorian and Latin confessions, Ortho- dox Greeks, twenty or more Huropean families, and a floating population of muleteers, hamals or Turkish porters, and Kurds. We may say that representatives of every Oriental people are found here, and each man in his national costume. The Turks are mostly shopkeepers, fishermen, and public officials. The two former classes are faithful observers of the law of Mahomet; the latter have gone astray from the tradi- tions of their fathers: they no longer wear the old costume, they drink brandy to _ intoxication, and they have lost the politeness and good-humor which distinguish the true Mussulman. The Persians are merchants on a larger scale, and also very clever artisans; their natural subtilty and finesse, their talent for business and refinement of manners, bring 144 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. them to fortune rapidly. They are superstitious and practise minutely the details of their religion. Followers of Ali, they have many quarrels with the Turks, who accept the authority of Omar; more polite than the Turks with strangers, they yet allow themselves in conversation to extol their own country above all the world; wherever they go they preserve their national costume, of silk or some rougher material, ac- cording to the class to which each man belongs, but always made in the same fashion. Erzeroum. Street Scene. The Armenians are gentle and peaceable; their manners retain a stamp of the patriarchal days, the children never being allowed to sit in the presence of their parents, and young girls waiting at table upon their relations and the guests of the house. The Armenians, and also the Greek population, are far more attached to Russia than to the Porte; it would seem that this preference must be founded on ' Ata SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 145 religious sympathy, since they could in no way obtain advantage from a change of masters. From Trebizond, a mountain journey — whose duration varies from seven to twelve days, according to the weather and the time of year—brings us to Erzeroum. At eight hours’ distance from the city we see it clearly,—so pure is the atmosphere of this plateau, —a strange and characteristic silhouette done in sepia against the light- Erzeroum. ‘Tehifté Minaret. gray background of the hills. From these hills many rivulets run down, and make their way through the city in every direction, thus requiring a great number of bridges, and giving a marked peculiarity to the town. Furthermore, Erzeroum is eminently Oriental in its appearance; the streets in the Mohammedan part of the city are lined with walls of grayish tint, pierced by small and infrequent apertures, which 146 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. serve as windows. In the Christian quarter, many houses have a second story pro- jecting over the street, supported by posts, sometimes ornamented with carvings; and the roof forms a sort of awning, sheltering it all from the rain and sun. Most of the houses, especially those which have but a single story, are lighted only by an opening in the roof, over which is placed a pyramid of oiled paper, which lets in the daylight, but keeps out the rain. ‘The flat roofs themselves, covered with a thick layer of earth, become in spring real fields where sheep and goats are pastured, and, later in the season, are used as drying-places for fuel. In Erzeroum there are no paved streets; consequently, the dust in summer is intolerable, and in winter they are nothing better than quagmires. | The mosques are very numerous; one, the Ouloud-Djami, situated on the highest ground in the city, and now used as an arsenal and powder-house, is really inter- esting. Its chief gate is that of the Tchifté Minaret, represented on page 145. The mosque itself seems to be of Arab architecture, but probably its builders were Per- sian workmen; for, beside its ornamentation of geometrical designs, there are figures of animals, serpents’ heads, and a double-headed eagle on a cartouche in relief, near the minaret; the gate itself is surmounted by two towers of varnished brick, and the base is decorated with a mosaic of blue, green, and red faience. With Erzeroum we take our leave of the north-eastern part of Asia Minor, crossing the country to Mosul, whence we have access to that land of mystery and eld, “far-off Chaldea, and Babylon the Great.” SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 147 by) i ae > cone wi it HELIUM n (i | ty \ hi We at a point on the eastern = es ‘A i ll we my iy thy l ae MTA Arai il yal ! La ct — i ae 3 mn a = ae Zeit We i Ww 72 i oS i ot at “al i rT ia fi — e h ah | % Th i) “il ih / " | igi | | Th a, i ! : th Hi s 2 Wee ! eo SA ee | ae = ] yy cone ye i Hay ne SS Seas g a at pas WES WS SEES SE TPFIERING TON YEVEH AND BAB NINEVE i ABYLON. ——086200—_ #AT the head of the great Mesopotamian plain, not far from the frontiers of Kurdistan, lies Mosul, a third-rate Turk- ish city, remote from Constantinople, and regarded as a _ place of exile by whatever luckless effendi is ordered the It is scarcely to thither to represent the Sultan’s authority in this, most eastern portion of his domains. be supposed that a French consul would find such a place of residence any. more agreeable; and it was, perhaps, due to his utter lack of occupation upon the surface of the earth, that M. Botta, in 1842, began to attack with energy certain mounds in the neighborhood of the modern city, which it was believed might conceal remains of the great Assyrian capital, destroyed seven centuries before the Christian era. A vague tradition, handed. down from antiquity, has always indicated the location of the ancient city of Ninus shore of the Tigris, very nearly opposite Mosul. Jonah’s Tomb, a Mohammedan structure standing on a hill, and perpetuating the. Biblical mention of that prophet’s visit, is another form of the same tradition. And yet nothing in the 148 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. appearance of the place suggested the former existence of a great capital: there were no ruins, no vestiges of ancient buildings; there was nothing but an arid plain, varied by low hillocks here and there. Such is the impression all early travellers give us of the spot. 3 No one of these travellers was in a position to dig into these hillocks, in search of possible hidden treasure. Mr. James Rich, fifty years ago the British resident at Bagdad, was, up to 1842, the only person who had made any investigations, and his efforts resulted merely in obtaining some stones and bricks bearing cuneiform in- scriptions, which he bought from the Arabs and sent home, where they formed the nucleus of the Assyrian Collection of the British Museum. ‘This, however, was suf- ficient to excite public attention in England and in France, and shortly after His arrival in Mosul, M. Botta commenced his explorations, by digging into a_ hillock about fifteen minutes distant from the river-bank. The results obtained were not very satisfactory; but a peasant, who saw the laborers at work, besought them to come to his village, ten miles distant towards the north-east, where, he maintained, much better and more abundant fragments of ancient sculpture could be found. With a good deal of distrust in these promises, M. Botta sent three or four of his men to the place designated, the village of Khorsabad, since become so famous. It was merely a little group of some fifty houses, on a low eminence forty feet above the plain, and inhabited by Kurds crossed with Arab blood. ‘The very shape of this hillock proved it artificial, and the discovery of bricks with cuneiform inscriptions, and of great hewn stones on a level with the ground, and now serving as pave- ment to some of the houses, at once confirmed the hopes of the explorers. M. Botta soon arrived in person, and set all his men at work. Such is the point of departure of the magnificent discoveries which have taken so important a place in the scientific history of our epoch. A few hours’ work brought to light a head,—a superb head, with straight, pure profile, — an unmistakable antique. One may fancy the excitement of the moment, as the consul asked himself, “Is this all, or is this but the beginning?” They plied their picks vigorously; the stone grew larger and larger, a body was added to the head; other figures were brought to light; it was a series of bas-reliefs; it was the wall of some vast edifice! One hall after another was excavated, the walls all coy- ered with carvings and inscriptions,—with hunting scenes and war scenes, with colossal symbolic figures,—in a word, it was nothing less than a palace,—a great royal habitation. Carbonized beams and blackened walls betrayed that the flames had done their work here. The fury of that war which overthrew the last Assyrian dynasty, and the devastating hand of the victorious enemy, had left their traces everywhere. By a fortunate chance, the village people of Khorsabad were quite willing to SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 149 sell out and move down into the plain, nearer the springs from which they obtain their supply of water; and the difficulty of finding laborers who would brave the terrors of this under-world, with its demon sculpture so frightful to the Mussulman, was met by another equally fortuitous circumstance. Certain mountaineers of Chris- tian faith, persecuted and threatened with destruction by neighboring Kurds, had but lately come in multitudes to seek assistance in Mosul. These men M. Botta found ready and eager to accept his pay, and by their hands the work was carried on. Since this beginning, the published discoveries of Rawlinson and Layard have brought to our very doors the marvels of Assyrian art and architecture. The myste- rious cuneiform inscriptions have been read, and we have the message which those early people meant for us when they left their history “graven in the rock forever.” No single illustration of the art of this early people is more truly typical than the Winged Bull, which re- curs everywhere, especially NY guarding on either side the ny great doors of the palace. These figures are some- times eighteen fect high, and [Ogio yee executed in high relief, hay- xe ‘ Sy Ze et —>> ing a projection of more than three feet. The aspect of this minotaur, his haughty neck surmounted by a human N iN ANY N a np YAY My head wearing a tiara, has a ht Nik NN WN | , \ strange grandeur about it, and we cannot but feel a profound admiration for the genius which prompted this conception, at once barbarous and noble, in which the 49,8 eS. pas i strength of beast and bird Will NU SULA SSee UTC tia is united and made trib- Winged Bull from Nineveh. utary to the dominant human soul. Coupled naturally in our thought with Nineveh, the great city of the Tigris, is Babylon, mistress of the Euphrates. On the way from Nineveh to Babylon lies Bagdad, and we linger for a few words about this city of the Kalifs, ancient from our point of view, but only the child of yesterday in comparison with its great neigh- bors of the primeval world. A certain disappointment, however, awaits the traveller who enters Bagdad, his 150 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. imagination filled with visions borrowed from the “Arabian Nights” and the tradi- tions of Haroun-al-Raschid. The eleven centuries which have passed ‘since the city was founded, the innumerable wars, the invasions of rebel Turkomans, the inundations of the Tigris, the storms from the desert,—all have united in the destruction of those splendid buildings with which Arab civilization and an enthusiastic faith once endowed this superb queen of the east. But the traveller who relinquishes his illu- sions, and contents himself with exploring the modern city, will find much to gratify his curiosity, and even to excite his admiration. The Arabian river, the blue sky of Mesopotamia, which reflects its azure in the faience of the cupolas, a few mosques, the MATT TTT Mosque of Iman-Moussa. picturesque bazaars, the crowd of Asiatic types of every variety, will offer him pic tures forever to be retained in memory. Bagdad has the aspect of a great city, its minarets gleaming from afar across the desert in which it lies like an oasis. Upon its eastern side it is defended by a vast belt of walls in good condition, protected by bastions and a wide moat, easily filled from the Tigris. This wall at its two extremities meets the river, which is the city’s western defence, and it is from this side that Bagdad is seen to the best advantage. The Pacha’s palace, the mosques, cafés, houses, and gardens, which line the bank and are reflected in the water, form a beautiful picture. Behind this. water SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 151 front are grouped the diverse quarters of the city, occupying — but by no means filling with houses — the vast space between the river and the walls. At the east and south are wide desolate commons, where camels feed, and where only some rare heap of ruins suggests that the place is yet part and parcel of a great city. By the extent of its fortifications, we see plainly that Bagdad was once incomparably more impor- tant than it now is. The actual present population does not exceed fifty thousand. and of these but part are Mussulman, a large number being Jews and Christians of the various communions existing in the East. Across the river is a comparatively new quarter, of which the population differs widely from that within the city proper. It consists of Bedouin Arabs, temporarily: ALA i} | iN WAN WAVRUIIY | \ | i} | / UHM Akar-Kutf. lodged there, and of Persians, who have a preference for the more independent life of the suburbs. A bridge of boats unites it with the city, across which are passing all the time Bedouin caravans, horsemen, laden camels, or fiocks of sheep driven to market. On this side of the Tigris rises, amid the palm-trees, the Mosque of Iman-Moussa (page 150), with its four graceful minarets and its two cupolas, glittering with enamel and arabesques. Around this great mosque are grouped the houses of the priests, making a little village. 152 VOYAGES AND TRAVETS. 4 About four hours’ ride from Bagdad westward lies a very curious and ancient ruin, known as the Tower of Akar-Kuf, to which the traveller may well devote a day. The adjacent country is full of low hillocks and dried-up canals; a lake, rep- resented on the maps as lying at a little distance from Akar-Kuf, is also dry, and its bed completely filled with a little, low, red plant, which gives a weird and _ sinister air to the scene. The ruin itself (page 151) is a square solid mass built of bricks, having: still a height of one hundred and twenty-eight feet; it has been attacked on two of its sides, with the intention of penetrating it, either through curiosity or in the search for treasure. The bricks of which the tower is made are not burnt, but only har- dened in the sun. They are placed flat, one upon another, and cemented with the same earth of which they are made. Hight or ten rows of them form a layer two feet or two and a half thick; then follows a layer of earth and a layer of straw, and then the bricks recommence. Square holes exist here and there, which may haye served for the support of scaffoldings, and perhaps also to facilitate the drying of the mass, for the apertures evidently penetrate far into the interior. The layers of straw, which project beyond the bricks, can be seen at a distance: they are in perfect preservation, and have resisted the action of time better than the hardest wood. A few bricks have been found at Akar-Kuf bearing inscriptions, from which we judge this curious structure to have been built as a sort of votive offering to some divinity otherwise unknown to us, and by some king concerning whom history is silent. It is worth remark, however, that the Arabs call the place “Nimrod’s Hill;” and we are led to notice how Assyria and Babylonia are filled with the name of Nimrod, as that of Abraham prevails in Mesopotamia, of Ceasar in ancient France, of Trajan in the valley of the Danube, and of Alexander in the remote East. Whence comes this strange popularity of a man who, perhaps, may have founded some rude form of a state, but who appears in history only as “a mighty hunter before the Lord”? We must remember that the mighty hunter of those early days was the great defender and civilizer; when the earth belonged rather to beasts than to men, and the terror of those monsters of sea and land lay upon all men’s souls, he who brought destruc- tion to the python and the crocodile, to the tiger, the leopard, and the lion, was the universal benefactor, the man of all others to be honored by his fellows and commemorated by posterity. And now, at last, we have before us Babylon the Great, its site some fifty miles south of Bagdad. To reach it we traverse a desolate steppe which was once the fertile plain of Babylonia, producing, in the Persian days, one third of the whole agricultural revenue of that great empire. Chaldzan industry had easily solved the problem, — how to make up for the natural aridity of a plain where it never rains, and there are no springs nor any running water save its three great rivers. From these ; i ag Nay i ii late ¢) iy yy) ( (ly I \\ \ WN) ‘iN OF BABYLON, NS ANGING GARDE. Fi i | rivers were cut great canals, and from the canals a perfect network of smaller channels, 154 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. reticulating the whole surface of the ground, like the veins of a leaf. All this has long since fallen into neglect. ‘“ Where the Turk has passed, the grass no longer grows,” says the Eastern proverb; and even the annual overflow of the Euphrates now only creates here a pestilential marsh. | It was about eight o’clock in the morning of our third day from Bagdad when we came in sight of the palm-trees of the Khan Mehaouil, where begin the famous ruins, and, as we approached, memory supplied the details of the ancient city. It was a per- fect square, not far from fifty miles in circuit. The wall was eighty feet high, and of the same thickness, and surmounted by two rows of turrets, two hundred and fifty in number, facing each other, and leaving between them space for the passage of a four- horse chariot. The wall was pierced with a hundred gates of brass, and outside of it was a wide deep moat filled with water. The quadrangular plan of the exterior was carried out within, the streets cutting each other at right angles and abutting at the gates, and at other entrances pierced in the quays which followed the windings of the river for a length of twenty-one miles. All this immense space within the walls was not, however, occupied with buildings, the houses, three or four stories high, being sep- arated from each other by extensive gardens, and large open spaces being left within the city for the cultivation of grain. Thus, in general terms, we may represent to our- selves this queen of the East in the time of her glory; and what strikes us in the description the ancients have left us is a combination of the useful with the magnifi- cent, which we find nowhere else in the same degree. All their immense works, ramparts, canals, quays, bridges, and artificial lakes, are, above all, works of public utility. 3 From this statement we except the famous Hanging Gardens, which are believed to have been “a labor of love.” Some Babylonian king, history tells us, — but concern- ing his name we have no information, —had a favorite Persian sultana, who forever regretted, in the level and monotonous land of Chaldsea, the varied scenery of her native home. ‘T’o combat this nostalgia, the royal lover constructed upon the top of the citadel a great garden wherein he gathered all the floral marvels of his vast empire. We borrow the description of Diodorus Siculus, the only author who speaks minutely of this wonder of the world. 3 “This garden, square in form, had a length of four hundred feet on each side. It was reached by steps, rising upon terraces like an amphitheatre, these terraces being supported by pillars, of which the tallest supported the garden itself. The walls were twenty-two feet thick, and the columns stood ten feet apart. The platforms of the terraces were composed of blocks of stone, sixteen feet by four, covered with a layer of asphaltum and rushes, then a double layer of cemented bricks, and finally with sheets of lead, to prevent the water from filtering through. Upon all this was willl | i i ty TH | AANA 1 {al ili ay ol , fi Hl I , My WANA \ Wy | \\\ | WH WHA HA NN) i {1 Hi] Nh } | Wilt HH ! | | } } ] A} \ HH) | | | i} Hi aT NG i ernst en i eh WA) M cena iii ait f\\ BIRS NIMROUD. q 156 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. | ' laid a depth of earth sufficient to receive the roots of the largest trees; and this artificial soil was then filled with trees of the rarest and most beautiful kinds. The columns, rising gradually, allowed the light to penetrate through the interspaces, and gave access to the royal apartments, numerous and beautifully decorated. One of these columns was hollow from summit to base, and contained hydraulic contrivances for bringing up a vast amount of water from the river.” Strabo adds that the pillars sustaining the gardens were hollow blocks of masonry, destined to receive the roots of the larger trees; and Quintus Curtius speaks of some of these trees as being fifty feet high and producing fruit, just as if they were growing in the ground. Meanwhile, from the flat roof of the khan we get our first look at the real scene as it lies before the traveller of to-day. It is a wide and nearly level plain, fur- rowed by traces of ancient canals, a few low masses of ruins in the distance, and two isolated groups of palm-trees far away upon the horizon. No words can ex- press the mute and desolate grandeur of this solitude, where sleeps the city which was in its time the capital of the civilized world. Vastly more impressive than Nine- veh, it brings to mind, in literal fulfilment, the solemn maledictions of the Prophet : “Thou hast spoken against this place to cut it off, that none shall remain in it, neither man nor beast, but that it shall be desolate forever.” The ancient city lay on both sides of the river, and Queen Nitocris constructed a bridge, we are told, uniting the two sides. On the western bank there remains but one conspicuous ruin; that is, however, of so much importance that we select it as the typical illustration of Babylon as it is to-day. It is called Birs Nimroud, or Nim- rod’s ‘Tower, and may well be as ancient as the mighty hunter whose name it bears. It stands upon an artificial elevation nearly two hundred feet in height and six hun- dred long. At base this mass has the form of a rectangle. From its summit, and nearly in the centre, rises a massive brick tower or column. At regular intervals, symmetrically arranged, are openings which traverse the solid mass of this gigantic column, but for what purpose they were left it is impossible to conjecture. The column itself is about thirty feet in height. From one disaster to another Babylon has sunk, till it has become but a name, — a memory. Where are now its temples, its walls, its hanging gardens, its palaces? — The traveller in vain seeks a vestige of them; nothing guides him to any discovery; | not even their ruins exist; and in the midst of the far-stretching desert, across which once glittered the brilliant city of Semiramis, it is but by accident that he detects the few shapeless mounds which indicate the place where stood this capital of the early world. The great Huphrates still flows on its lordly way to the sea, but the magnificent quays so much admired by Herodotus have vanished utterly, and in their stead there is but a little hamlet of Arab cottages, which does not even seek in its name to perpetuate the memory of Babylon. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 15 ~] ood Ba) RDA Bie jeook CAR i BHERAN, the modern capital of Persia, stands in the midst of a wide, stony, barren plain, bordered on the east and west by ridges of sterile hills, and on the north by the vast chain of the Alboorz Mountains. The city lies really lower than the plain around it, being built in a natural hollow of the ground, the most ineligible site, it would seem, in the whole neighborhood. Its appearance from without is in no way prepossessing, nothing of it being visible but the wall of unburnt brick cemented with mud, defended by small round towers placed at regular intervals, and by a dry moat. This wall has six gates of no architectural importance, with the exception of the south- ern or New Gate, represented on page 158, and this rather showy than beautiful. It is built of glazed bricks, with legendary figures in mosaic ~ over the entrance, and four round towers, covered with enamelled tiles, rising to a considerable height above the level of the wall. Nor is the interior of the city more attractive. The houses are poor and shabby and the streets narrow, such as are not bazaars pre- senting nothing to the view but the dead wall of the houses on either side, and the open drain through the centre, of the roadway. ‘The bazaars, which are very nu- merous and thronged by a motley population, are roofed in, and lighted from above by a series of small glass domes. The chief Mosque has a handsome enamelled fagade, and a gilt-topped dome. Caravansaries are numerous, the city being the great thoroughfare of travel from west to east across Northern Persia. Teheran appears to have been a place of but little importance until the middle of the last century, at which time the founder of the present dynasty removed his _ capital thither from Ispahan, with the intention of being nearer his own people, a tribe occupying a region on the Caspian shore. South from Teheran, and about half-way between the Caspian Sea and the Per- sian Gulf, lies Ispahan, more in ruins than any other of the cities of Persia. From 153 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. i i) a a) Gate of Teheran. the six or seven hundred thousand inhabitants which it had in the seventeenth cen- tury, it is now reduced to fifty or sixty thousand, and large sections of the town are filled with crumbling heaps that once were lofty structures. Everything has happened to this city, since the period that put a limit to its grandeur. To be stormed by an Afghan army is assuredly a calamity of the first order; and to traverse all the phases of anarchy and civil war, is scarcely calculated to restore prosperity. For all this, Ispahan has yet some maryellously beautiful spots within its walls, and none more enchanting than the Shah’s Garden, represented on page 159. Larlier travellers SCENES [1N MANY LANDS. 159 describe the magnificent avenues of plane-trees of this garden, which, it must be owned, have suffered much; but there are still noble rows of this superb tree left, making a boulevard bordered by buildings and sculptured figures worthy of the trees, and intercepted at regular intervals by great fountains whence ‘avenues and paths lead off in every direction. ‘These avenues are paved in the centre, and, according to custom in Persian gardens, are raised about a foot above the surrounding ground, which is covered with great shrubs and rare plants. In no way is one more clearly shown that this magnificence is but the shadow of the past than in noticing the pro- found solitude of all this beautiful place, which the actual population has entirely S The Shah’s Garden. deserted, and which, indeed, it could not fill. Then, the water in the ponds is stagnant which formerly was fresh and sparkling, and where the garden-beds used to be, wild plants grow luxuriantly ; worst of all, the pavement of the avenues is mostly broken and destroyed. But still, notwithstanding all its desolation, there is much grandeur and elegance in these remains of the Tchehar-Bagh, and of the Garden of the Shah. From Teheran, the great caravan route leads across the country, nearly due east, to Mashhad, the sacred city, where it is the dearest wish of the good Persian Mus- sulman to be buried, if so be his friends can afford the money to buy him a burial- place in it, and the time to convey his remains thither. Between Teheran and Mashhad the most important town is Semnoon, a place of 160 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. considerable antiquity, and in many respects attractive to the traveller. There is a curious style of dwelling-houses in this town, large and lofty, constructed, it is true, only of sun-dried bricks and mud, but in castellated form, with loopholes, bastions, and towers, evidently designed for defence. They must have been built many centu- ries ago, the well-tempered and tenacious clay used for these purposes remaining long uninjured in the dry Persian atmosphere; and there they stand, lofty and solid as the day they were erected, overtopping the city, while the ancient families who once occupied them have long since perished, leaving not even a trace of their history. On the other hand, much of the ground in Semnoon is honeycombed with caves where the inhabitants dwell, with their flocks and herds, preferring, it would seem, these -primitive abodes to the ancient buildings which stand unoccupied all about them. There is a mosque of modern construction in Semnoon, built of glazed bricks, and near it an ancient minaret (see page 161) whose top is reached by an ascent of ninety steps. A little column rises from the platform, and the height of the whole structure is about one hundred and twenty feet. This minaret leans visibly towards the north; its surface, which is covered with bricks laid in various regular patterns, has been much battered and defaced by wind and weather, but it bears an inscrip- tion yet legible, which gives reason to believe it was built by one Ali Hassan, in the tenth century of our era. Whether it was ingeniously designed to vary from the perpendicular, or whether it has assumed its leaning position in the course of the ages since its erection, we shall never know, but it seems more probable that a gradual and gentle subsidence of the ground has produced this result, than that any archi- - tect should willingly have thus imperilled the perpetuity of his own work. Mashhad, the capital of Persian Khorassan, is an important commercial centre, being the point of convergence of the caravan routes between Persia and India and China, through the countries of Afghanistan and Turkestan respectively. It covers a great extent of ground, being surrounded by fortified walls several miles in circuit. Much of this intramural area is, however, occupied by gardens and orchards, but still larger space is devoted to cemeteries, so that nothing can be more sombre than the appearance of the town. The tomb of a Mussulman saint, Imam Raza, situated in Mashhad, has given the city such a sacred character throughout Persia, that it is the highest ambition of every Mussulman in the Shah’s empire to be buried within its walls. He visits it while alive, at any rate, and if by chance he die upon this pilgrimage, he is so much the surer of Paradise. The number of pilgrims at one time used to amount to thirty or forty thousand yearly, but of late, since the famine, has fallen off to ten or twelve thousand. Besides the many who die on their pilgrim- age, and hence are buried in Mashhad, it is quite common for pilgrims to bring with them the remains of their friends, to inter them in the holy city. And so it has SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 161 come to pass that Mashhad is like a city of the dead, and its inhabited dwellings have an air of being built at random among the graveyards and the ruins. There is nothing accidental, however, about the appearance of the Mosque of Imam Raza, with its group of religious and ornamental appendages, occupying as it does the centre of the city, and towering aboye all other buildings, a magnificent group of domes and minarets. To it all roads lead, and every traveller’s gaze is at once directed, and on reaching the spot the distant promise is more than made good. eng : SS | ALEXARDRE & BAR Minaret of Semnoon. The first thing that strikes the eye is a noble oblong mass of buildings enclosing a court of about four hundred and eighty feet in length, and two hundred and twenty- five in width. These buildings are two stories in height, the apartments opening: in front into a handsome arcaded gallery. In the centre of each side and each end is a magnificent and very lofty gateway (see page 163), and the whole is com- pletely incrusted with a mosaic work of tiles, painted and glazed, and arranged in 162 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. figures of the most tasteful patterns and colors. This is called the Sahn. The area of this court is flagged with grave-stones, forming a continuous, though not a very smooth pavement, under which lie interred the remains of Persian nobles, brought hither from all parts of the country, to be buried as near as possible to the bones of their favorite saint. 7 The gateways at the two ends of the court contain wickets of elegant wrought : steel, for purposes of entrance and exit. The gate on the southwest gives admittance into the mausoleum, while that on the opposite side is built only for uniformity ; it is in architecture and size the exact copy of its prototype, but differs in ornament, the former being adorned with gilding, the latter with colored tiles. Of the mausoleum itself little is seen externally except the dome, which is coy- ered with gilded tiles relieved with broad bands of bright blue, which bear Arabic inscriptions in letters of gold. Its most striking ornaments, however, are two beauti- ful minarets, one of which springs from a part of the mausoleum itself, the other, from the gateway opposite. Each of these minarets has a handsome gallery of carved wood, richly gilded, as is also the larger part of the shaft itself. Beneath the dome lie the remains of the saint; and very near is another tomb, which the western traveller will regard with much deeper interest, — none other than that. of his boyhood’s friend, the great Kalif, the “good Haroun-al-Raschid.” All that gold and silver, and wrought steel of finest quality, and jewels and Persian carpets, and ever-burning wax candles, can add of majesty and solemnity to this shrine, has been lavished upon it. The expense of its maintenance is considerable, and is pro- vided for in certain regular ways worth mentioning. Tirst, by rents of a caravan- sary and a bazaar belonging to the establishment, but outside its grounds; secondly, by the rent of the lower row of apartments around the court, which are let for shops; lastly, by the large sums obtained for permission to inter within the sacred enclosure. The events which have consecrated this as the principal shrine in Persia, are briefly as follows: it is related that Alexander the Great, in his expeditions through Khorassan, came by chance to this spot, and pitched his tent here. During the night he had a dream, which gave him so much uneasiness that, according to the legend, he called for his wise man, Aristotle, and communicated it to him. The latter explained the dream as signifying that some person of holy origin should at some future time be interred upon this spot. Upon this Alexander decided to mark the place, and ordered four walls to be built,.as a memorial to future times of his pro- — phetic dream. Centuries passed away; and the spot remained undisturbed until, one day, Ha- roun-al-Raschid, reading by chance a book of Aristotle, learned what Alexander had done. The story interested him, and being at that time near his end, he gave orders that when he should die his body should be interred in the place indicated by the i aml ze Na — peace Beales ‘ =) Sn rn LEW AAMAS LTA a nn at SSS Se me io ML eae RANA AAA Ase => FOr ELS O PCG a8 — as 7S O Roc 4 ‘2 y O | HUME | Jt S, is a — aS PUI my | ae LARS ‘a REIT == fil en Go ao) ly VRC ee M 7 ( wit i = i "J eons a iy | = i ia A al mal pet <5 2 AA 7 AAA AALE ay SZ, CI - vad a= eS Ss ra eK 5) i SSS «fl ny ue 4 ie LZ, HON | la N a Nea ja Mh HD, , Sie 5 62 | 2 U INTERIOR COURT OF THE MOSQUE OF IMAN RAZA. 164 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. sage as the spot where Alexander’s walls were built. That his wish might be the more readily carried out, he removed nearer to Mashhad, and at his death, shortly after, the command he had given was fulfilled. And still it remained uncertain who the sacred occupant of the enclosure was to be. This, however, speedily decided itself. A certain Mussulman saint, Im4m Razdé, poisoned by order of Haroun-al-Raschid’s son and successor, signified by certain unmistakable signs where he was to be interred, and lo! it was within Alexander’s walls, and with his feet towards the head of Haroun-al-Raschid. Ruins of Toos. Three hundred years after this, the performance of miracles of healing at this tomb recalled attention to its sacred character, and the present Mausoleum was erected, since which time successive Shahs have vied with one another in its adornment. Around the mosque itself are gathered more than a dozen buildings of various designs, and the whole quarter is thronged daily with pilgrims and students. No better oppor- tunity exists in Persia for the study of Arab art as modified by Mongol influences, and it is only to be regretted that so few travellers, who visit the empire of the Shah, find their way to this most interesting place. Seventeen miles northwest of Mashhad are the remains of the once celebrated city of Toos, the ancient capital, upon the eastern bank of a small stream that forms a principal branch of the river Mashhad. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 165 The walls of Toos are conspicuous at a distance upon the slightly inclined plane of the valley’s castern side. They are, as usual in Persia, of mud, with towers at intervals, all ruinous indeed, but still standing high above the ground. They embrace a circuit of from three to four miles, but there is little within them to indicate their former magnificence. The peasantry of a village which now occupies a mound of earth in one quarter of it, cultivate the greater part of the area, reaping good crops of wheat and barley from ground once coyered with houses, and in fact chiefly formed from the crumbled materials of their walls. The most important ruin is a large square SS E&S== = a g “ (> as aman ae = iS Ss 7 SAH Sa SSS Z : SS = gee Persian Pigeon House. building (see page 164), constructed of burnt brick, and partly covered by a dome rising in the centre. Its height is considerable, and it closely resembles many of the tombs near Delhi. ‘The exterior dome has severely felt the injuries of time, but the inner one is quite perfect. Nothing about it indicates its date or use; a solitary fombstone- on one side the doorway bears an inscription of which nothing could be made out but the word “Allah.” At a little distance from the building there is another tombstone, which has evidently been removed to the spot where it lies from some other place. Perhaps the most curious structures to be found in Persia are the pigeon-towers, with which some of the larger cities are enclosed as by a cordon of forts. These 166 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. are high round towers, slightly tapering upwards, with several small pointed domes on top, full of apertures by which the pigeons enter. The exterior of the tower is usually whitewashed and painted with fanciful cornices, and all manner of strange devices, producing a quaint and picturesque effect. These towers are intended for the collection of guano as a fertilizer for the melon gardens, so numerous through- out Persia. The whole interior of the tower is divided into thousands of little trian- gular niches, in which the pigeons make their nests and rear their young. A few domesticated doves are first put into a tower, and they soon attract the wild ones, which come in myriads and establish themselves in the domiciles prepared for them. They are all of a slaty-blue color, like our common wood-pigeon. The only entrance for man into the pigeon-tower is a door, or rather a hole, near the bottom, which is closed up with a shutter or stone slab fastened in, and remains shut for the greater part of the year, during the periods of incubation and fledging of the young birds. When opened, the bottom of the tower is filled up to the height of several feet with the precious fertilizer. ‘These pigeon-towers formerly rented for a high price, but now are less in demand, and are in some cases totally neglected. wee et Ve 7 a) P . a SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 167 ene Sta re ue Gis SUR crn con wey Y hd pe ~ PE peed Se Tn es Ba ae = x ———— eS eee = = == === ——— sees SSS = a= = SS == = SS = - == —— = SSS = = |e wi thal | a ||) | ea wi | wi id) A = eee S eae ES | io i Hy i i) = = CE) 0 Ee i: er ee ST i ill 7.8.9 ' gy : etd = (; | fad ie | S Ft Eetezlt Za aS Nt 43 | EIN Uy a= PEG ister Was ee EEE a a 2 oo Easel ie \ i ares oe s EEDA Z gj2 — ae | SSE = a = See <= = =i nonee oe = == = Sar STMT Wet SL = Pees = ==! Fi ene == sare SS = AU UU GOO Onin = = = Noe aaa Sar eat : Je jel SEE SSe Se fete m el : = = S94 "D000 = = = ; —— —— = = = = ATG SEE a = == = ——— = = = SF a — = 170 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. to that of the five or six hundred lazy priests who are maintained here in idleness by the gifts of the faithful. | In Lahore, the chief city of the Punjaub, the most notable edifice is the tomb of her greatest ruler, Runjeet Sing. The building stands at the end of a quadran- gle, two hundred yards square, and has a large artificial pond in front of it; it is aor : He = Tomb of Runjeet Sing. constructed of red sandstone, inlaid with marbles in designs of roses and lilies. Here the king’s remains were burned with great pomp, on his death in 1840, and his four wives, together with five Circassian slaves, perished upon the funeral pile. The “ Lion of Lahore,” as his contemporaries styled him, was a truly remarkable man. Although his boyhood had been passed in the idleness and profligacy of an Oriental harem, he manifested the mental vigor which would presuppose a Spartan training. Possessed eet Ered renee WF a ita : | . A \ SCENES [IN MANY LANDS. 171 of great natural courage, he was so ruled by his judgment that he courted no unnecessary danger, while never shunning that which it was expedient to encounter. In his dealings with men he showed unusual knowledge of human nature, and knew not only how to reduce to subjection the proud and high-spirited chiefs of the Pun- jaub, but to make them his warmest personal friends and allies. He was an excel- ‘lent man of business, though he could neither read nor write, and it was his policy to seem a deyout believer, and to listen for hours daily to the reading of the Sikh Dwelling-Houses in Srinagar. scriptures, while in reality his own advancement was the only law to which he gave the slightest obedience. This prince was for some years the owner of the great Koh-i-noor, and it passed from the hands of his successor, on the annexation of the Punjaub, into the posses- sion of the East India Company, by whom it was delivered up to Queen Victoria. On the north of the Punjaub lies the beautiful land of Cashmere, an irregular valley from five ta six thousand feet above the level of the sea, and shut in by mountains of which the summits rise here and there into the region of perpetual snow. Srinagar, the chief city, lies along the two banks of that great branch of the 172 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Indus known in classic story as the Hydaspes. Its population is perhaps a hundred and twenty thousand ; and the abundance of ruins scattered throughout the town proves that its inhabitants were once much more numerous. Many of the dwelling- houses are two or three stories in height, and resemble Swiss chdlets ; others have but one floor, and are surrounded by broad verandas (see page 171), while all build- ie ag" Buddhist Temple, Pandradar. ings, even to mosques and palaces, are roofed with a pe layer of turf, giving them a singular air of rusticity. In striking contrast to these modern structures are remains of early architecture of great solidity and in excellent preservation. One of the finest of these ancient ‘buildings is a Buddhist temple, represented above, situated at Pandradar, the former capital of Cashmere. eS oe Spies Lae Z Fe a aM aN \\\ iN a a\\\ os ANS SN DA NC ING -G IRL OF CA SH ME RE 174 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The inhabitants of this valley belong to the purest Aryan type. The men are tall, robust, and well-formed, and the women of distinguished beauty, not unlike the handsomest Italian peasant-women. About two hundred miles south-east from Lahore stands Delhi, the great Indian metropolis, or, indeed, we might say, the ancient capital of the Asiatic world. A com- parison is naturally suggested between Delhi and Rome; but while Rome presents the spectacle of a city gradually growing in size and importance, till it becomes, through the ambition of its inhabitants, the mistress of the world, Delhi appears to have played an opposite rdéle. Founded originally by imyaders not native to the Indian soil, it has been fought for and captured in turn by the successive conquerors of the pen~ insula, and has been regarded as, in a sense, the palladium upon whose fate depended the destiny of the entire country,—a superstition lasting until our own time, and held of such importance that the English were never regarded as legally the masters of india until the time when the English banner waved from the towers of °Delhi. Rome, too, can boast of an antiquity of but twenty-six centuries, while the ancient Indian traditions make mention of three cities, Madhanti, Hastinapoura, and Indra- pechta, which have succeeded one another upon the spot now occupied by the modern Delhi, the last of which, Indrapéchta, was “founded in the thirteenth century before the Christian era. | Having become the capital of the great Mussulman empire of India, Delhi, at the will of each new dynasty, was transported to some new site, and in this pere- grination has strewn with its monuments a plain twenty-three miles in length and eleven in breadth. Of these structures, the most imposing is the triumphal column of Koutab, erected by the Mussulman conqueror Koutab-Oudin-Higeb, in the very centre of the latest Hindoo capital. The column is approached by a narrow path between two rows of lofty trees, united into an arbor by a luxuriant growth of jasmine. Following this path for some distance, the traveller finds himself on the edge of a shallow ravine, filled with shrubbery and flowering plants, at the end of which rises the tall column, outlining its reddish mass against the azure of the sky. Nowhere else in the world, perhaps, has Nature added so much grace to the work of man. In general, ruined cities are sad and desolate ; it would seem that the soil itself had also been smitten with a curse. Here, on the contrary, every- thing is fresh, gay, and delightful; birds fill the air with their music, and the most luxuriant ~flowers are in bloom as if in a garden. Crossing this ravine we find our- selves at the entrance of the building, before Aladdin’s Gate, whose exquisite beauty — is reproduced on the opposite page, from a photograph taken upon the spot. This portal, erected in 1310 by the Sultan Ala-Oudin, might well have inspired the famous author of the story of the wondrous Lamp ; the Genius of the Roc surely never created anything more fairy-like. The work of the Spanish Moors in Grenada rr | ; un wnt inf RIK, it AN NMTeayTOA WNT his ee f t I i Bese} Whit = UL NA i eh NU ayy i) ams \ > f ; J 7 ab liql He i 4 < % i NY = iF Hi | : } gill ie ie i ALADDIN’S OTN ay GATE. DELHI. 176 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. cannot be compared to this architectural gem. Here, it is the stone itself, a red sandstone relieved with white marble, which furnishes the color, and the delicate ara- besques which cover all its faces are genuine carvings, while in the Alhambra the effect is obtained by the use of brilliant color and gilding spread out upon meagre structures of brickwork. Besides, there is not a poimt in the Moorish palace where one finds the purity of line and grandeur of proportion which characterize to so high a degree the work of the Indian sultan. | This gate forms a square pavilion pierced on each side by a denticulated arch, and surmounted by a handsome dome. The interior of the pavilion is finished with much elegance. Entering through this magnificent portal, the traveller at once finds himself at the foot of .the Koutab, which, standing entirely isolated, rises in the centre of a paved area, lifting its haughty head to the height of two hundred and twenty- seven feet. The tower is in the form of a cylinder, forty-six feet in diameter at. the base, and only ten at the summit. It is divided into five stories, which grow less in height from the lowest upward. The three lower are of red sandstone; the upper, built in 1368, to repair damage done by lightning twenty-eight years before, are of marble. . Within the city, the palace of the Grand Moguls is the chief object of interest to the visitor. This mass of buildings, inclosed by a wall forty feet high and three quarters of a mile in circumference, stands at the head of the main thoroughfare, the Chandnee Chouk, or Silversmiths’ Street; the walls, of red sandstone, are crenel- lated and adorned with bands in relief, and in the centre of each side of the quad- rilateral is a handsome gate, flanked with turrets and surmounted with kiosques. A kind of bastion, pierced with an entrance-way surrounded by slender minarets, pro- tects each of these gates. These fortifications are of the best period of Indo-Mus- sulman art, the reign of Shah Jehan, in the early part of the seventeenth century. Within the walls the eye is shocked by long and ugly rows of barracks, built by the English upon their occupation of the town. In the inner court, however, there yet remains the great audience hall and the throne hall, with something of their ancient splendor. ‘The latter is a vast kiosque of white marble, of perfect sim- plicity in its exterior, but of great magnificence in the interior decoration, its columns and arches and dome being adorned with arabesques in precious stones incrusted upon the marble. ‘The sunlight striking upon these enchanting mosaics, seems to give life to the delicate wreaths of flowers of lapis-lazuli, of onyx and sardonyx and a thousand other gems. ‘Tavernier, a French jeweller, who visited and described the palace of the Grand Moguls at a date when it was yet in all its splendor, tells us that the ceiling of this hall was covered with a tissue. of gold and silver of elegant workmanship, which he estimates at a value of five million dollars. Heavy silk drape- ries, festooned with chains of solid gold, hung in the arched entrances, and in the “INDOW ANVHS AHL HO MUVd GNV FoviIVvd ——— = ne ie iS : S| |= i I SS, Se <= . We q-| =| = i AURA SAINT y = (ESS = = = at eS — = =} =—— — : oI S : S| MTT. i —— = == === ‘ - x i i" = = — ; a= ee — Hie = (ii , SS = = : = : 7 3 We = <= = = se fe |S HAA 1 ith itt Si DLL eels TIT =z) 1) = Mil Wie \ {| \ i UU | | ap | 178 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. eentre stood the marvel of marvels, the famous “peacock throne.” This throne, of solid gold, measured six feet and three quarters in length and five in width, and formed a low, broad seat, the back of which represented a peacock’s tail, glittering with enamels and precious stones; a canopy, also of massive gold, bordered with a long, thick fringe of fine pearls, and resting on twelve golden columns, covered the back of the throne, while the front was shielded by two immense parasols of velvet embroidered with pearls, having gold handles set thickly with diamonds. This master- piece of jeweller’s work was made by a French goldsmith attached to the court of the Shah Jehan, and is estimated by Tavernier to have cost thirty millions of dollars. In 1739 it was carried off from Delhi by Nadir Shah, the great Persian conqueror, and has probably long since been destroyed. The imperial baths and the emperor’s private mosque are still shown in the palace of Delhi, fine structures, and beautifully decorated with mosaics and carvings in marble and ivory. Between the various buildings which compose the palace extend vast spaces, once the fairy-like gardens so extolled by the Mogul poets, where now remain but a few forlorn trees, half buried under ruins. Although the English have taken away from Delhi its title of capital, and have even separated it from Hindos- tan by making it a dependency of the Punjaub, it is still considered by the native people as the capital of the north-west. No city rivals it in actual importance, unless, perhaps, Lahore. Its financial market is still the chief in Central Asia, and its bankers extend their correspondence into Arabia, Afghanistan, Thibet, and Tur- kestan. Two hundred and eighty miles svuth-east from Delhi, and connected with it by railway, is Lucknow, one of the most beautiful of all the Indian cities. It is sur- rounded on all sides by a beautiful park, traversed by countless rivulets, and towers and minarets in every variety rise over the tree-tops, making a graceful and pecu-— har silhouette. Within, the city does not disappoint the traveller. Its streets are broad and regular, bordered with rows of neat houses. Fountains surrounded by trees are abundant, and give the air a refreshing coolness. The inhabitants are picturesquely clad, and gentle in their manners, and the shops are uncommonly attractive. Many of the public buildings are of remarkable beauty : one of the finest is the Housseinabad Imambarra (see opposite page), a building erected for the celebration of the Mohammedan festival of the Mohurrum. It is resplendent with color and orna- ment, and makes a grand show under the blue sky of India; but it does not admit of being viewed too nearly, and the traveller will do well to content himself with admiration of the general effect. The city of Agra, though of far less antiquity than Delhi, and less beauty than Lucknow, is, in some respects, the most important point in northern India, being the “MONMONT ‘“VUYVENVAI AVEAVNIEFZSSNOH az = f = —=i) fe ll | i WTI ! | l ll | | ith 180 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. capital of the north-west provinces of Bengal, and the great commercial centre ul all that part of Hindostan. It is situated on the right bank of the Jumna, a’ mag- nificent tributary of the Ganges, and is connected by railway with Bengal, the Deccan, and the Punjaub. But the greatest glory of Agra is the wonderful Taj, a building erected by the Shah Jehan as a mausoleum in memory of his wife, concerning which all travellers agree in the opinion that it is the most beautiful edifice in the world. The Taj stands upon the river-bank, raising its gilded crescent to the height of two hundred and seventy feet above the water-level. It is surrounded on three sides \ Le | i LS = Garden-Gate of the Taj. by a walled garden of twenty-five acres in extent, having elegant pavilions at the four corners. The main entrance is through a magnificent Saracenic arch, eighty feet high, built of red sandstone, with panels of white marble which are covered with texts from the Koran inlaid in black marble. Passing under this arch, the Taj itself appears, in its dazzling white splendor, at the extremity of a wide avenue of cypress- trees. Like a statue on its pedestal, the building stands on a vast platform of red sandstone surmounted by a superb marble terrace fifteen feet high, from each angle of which springs a marble minaret a hundred and fifty feet in height. The mausoleum itself is an irregular octagon, with flat roof, from which rises a great central dome i Me | =i E = | AU tna alle {5 THE TAJ. AGRA. / mm ie | ; - f hi | i : ‘| i Hl 182 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. and four lesser ones, and the four main facades haye each a lofty Saracenic arched entrance, flanked by two stories of deeply recessed windows. There is no part of the exterior, except the dome, which is not covered with arabesques and inscriptions in black marble upon the polished white of the surface, —in fact, it is said that the whole Koran is written there,—but it is done with so much taste that it adorns the architecture without crushing it. Bishop Heber says of the Taj, “It was built by Titans and finished by jewellers;” and, in truth, no more finely carved casket ever came from the patient hands of Chinese artificer. Another English writer says, “ Were there nothing to be seen in India but the Taj, it would be, for an artist or an architect, sufficient compensation for the long voyage, for no pen can do justice to its incomparable beauty and its astonishing grandeur.” But the interior even surpasses the exterior in magnificence. The sarcophagus of the sultana is in a vault directly under the centre of the building, and near it that of the Shah. The tombs are of the purest white marble, the sultana’s most elabo- rately ornamented with arabesques and texts in every variety of precious stones. Ascending to the main floor of the edifice, two duplicate sarcophagi are perceived, placed exactly above the real ones, and ornamented in the same style, but with more elaboration of details. They are protected by a marble screen eight feet high, of the most exquisite carving, a mere lace-work of stone, Interwoven with stems and leaves of lotos, rose, and passion-fiower. This magnificent edifice was commenced in 1630, and finished in 1647, and dur- ing these seventeen years twenty thousand workmen were constantly employed upon it. The magnitude of the structure required a hundred and forty thousand cart-loads of red sandstone and Rajpootana marble, and every province of the empire contributed to its adornment, sending precious stones of which a list was preserved in the public archives. ‘There was jasper from the Punjaub, lapis-lazuli from Ceylon, coral from Arabia, rock-crystal from Malwah, and onyx from Persia; ‘Thibet sent her turquoises, Yemen her agates, Asia Minor her chalcedony, Colombo her sapphires, Punnah her diamonds. Notwithstanding these free gifts and the forced labor of the workmen, the total cost of this gigantic work was about twelve million dollars. The Taj has shared in the disasters of its city. The Jats carried off its silver gates and its treasure ; the Mahrattas injured the mosaics; an Hnglish governor, Lord Bentinck, even went so far as to propose to sell it for the value of its materials ;_ but the Queen’s government understood its duties better. All the damage has been repaired, the edifice cleansed and restored, and the gardens, enriched with rare plants, are kept up as carefully as in the time of Shah Jehan. South from Agra, and about sixty miles away, there exists a wonderful group of buildings belonging to a period nearly a thousand years earlier than that at which the Taj was erected. They are the remains of the ancient city and fort of Gwalior, = fl FACADE OF THE PALACE. TUNA “7 | oe : mT i ‘a ie . i i i" mg ch vi me vO ire ‘ Hl ey An ‘Te tlh itly iy by uh it Ut i NIN il UN ART ih my hil wi ae | ii ae a GWALIOR. 184 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. crowning the top of an escarped, isolated rock, which rises above the modern town of the same name. This rock is of sandstone capped with basalt ; its greatest length is a mile and a half, with an extreme breadth of nine hundred feet, and a height of nearly three hundred and fifty feet above the level of the plain. Its face is perpendicular, at some points the upper part overhanging the lower; and the ascent is by a steep road cut in the solid rock, and barred at intervals by five gates as formidable as those of a feudal fortress. The first of these gates is a superb Moorish triumphal arch, crowned with a story of colonnettes. Passing beneath it, the traveller enters upon the road, wide and well-kept, but of fatiguing steepness. Here begins for the archzologist a series of monuments, bas-reliefs, caverns, cisterns, ranged along the road as in a museum. The rocky wall on either side also demands attention ; it is excavated into numberless cells, many of them containing altars and statues, a reminiscence of the early her- mits who sheltered themselves here. Between the third and fourth gates are vast reservoirs for water, and here the sides of the road are covered with bas-reliefs of enormous size. Beyond the fourth gate is a little monolithic temple, believed to be of the fifth century. It consists of a square chamber with a peristyle in front of it, and is surmounted by a pyramidal spire. The upper part of this spire has been broken off, and is replaced by a little dome of masonry. As we reach the crest of the rock, the magnificent fagade of the Palace of King Pal (see page 183) rises before us. It is really a great dead wall, relieved by turrets at regular intervals, the only windows being in the very tops of these tur- rets; but bands of carved decoration, rows of arches, and a profusion of enamelled figures of every description, — Brahmins, elephants, peacocks, candelabra, in blue, brown, green, and gold,— give it an incomparable lightness and elegance. The bricks which form this ornamentation have a brillianey of color and delicacy of shading from which ten centuries have taken nothing away. Besides this palace there are two important temples in this ancient city, and many chapels; and the rock itself on which the city stands is cleft by a remarkable fissure, a hundred feet deep, whose perpendicular walls are lined with figures of every size, from the one ten or twelve inches in height up to the colossus of sixty feet. These statues have historical and religious significance. Returning to Agra, we suppose the traveller to follow a route leading nearly due west as far as Ambeer, thence in a southwesterly direction through some of the tribu- tary states of Western India, and coming out to the sea at Bombay. J An houwr’s drive from Agra, along a fine macadamized road, bordered by shade- trees, and curious old tombs surmounted by figures of horses in red sandstone, brings us to Secundra. This village, insignificant in itself, is held in high honor by Mus- { SCENES 1N MANY LANDS. 185 sulman and Hindoo, throughout all India, as the- place where repose the remains of the Emperor Akbar, the greatest native sovereign of the peninsula. The Mausoleum stands in the centre of an immense and very beautiful garden on the bank of the Jumna. The building itself, which rests upon a platform of white marble four hundred feet square, is in the form of a pyramid, and consists of five stories. The four lower ones are of red sandstone, the upper of polished white marble. ‘The first four stories are surrounded each by a row of elegant kiosques of red sandstone, and the upper story by a wall of white marble elegantly carved. Upon the upper floor, in broad day- a superb light, is the state sarcophagus, around which the crowd gathers to pray, —— ee = " = SS = = —— = == LOE = = —— == === SS _ SS lt iil" sti 2 — SS eit oe — = ip 7 ally : = = —————— => === [is Mb : = re Qa = = = ——s SSS a NeeRGe Ree eY 8 = —— = = a = Se = ee = = = = == —— 4 —— eo Z = — = = ma” a fj = LTTE Vie (ur = = = = VEAVAGY EX my ly Y } = | = — = y | i ‘it Y "| i oe ; —— ! ) i Xl Ws = i i, = : Sao | KS | —=— ——— — = MT i ==. i Wii ‘ | ; i = i aes e } ‘ = = = = i = = ‘i i == =" ‘J ——— iil se = s, = all j ; Ira or ———— == SS SS |S Whey Maa —————= =} gga = == ay {5 S|3 == “a see x — ae s —- i —<————— | | ==. 1 | = ie | = Ae | : Sige : ii | | ? Sra w i ” ee ah a in old i Ha a \ —S ——— — —_- = be iy rT ake iy ve i rv : ivy SS = == = — = SSS \\ me Hy = || = | ee == ———————— => —SSSSSSSSSSSS2z=z=22=SSS=a_ SS eS SSS whl — ; = SS = = FEA = —— = ———SSSS a SS The Mausoleum of Akbar. parallelogram of white marble, a masterpiece of carving, upon which are inscribed in relief, amid a very network of arabesques, the ninety names by which the Mussul- man religion calls upon God. The real sarcophagus, in which the emperor was buried, lies in a crypt beneath the centre of the building, bearing a single Arabic Inscription upon its lid. This mausoleum is the work of many reigns. Its foundation was laid by Akbar; his son, Jenanghir, added the stories in red sandstone, and Shah Jehan surmounted the edifice with its crown of marble. It thus stands as an admirable illustration of the most brilliant period of Indian architecture. 186 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. Three days’ journey westward, across the rich English province of Agra, is the ancient city of Digh, which claims to have been a capital fifteen centuries before the beginning of the Christian era. It is now the second city in the Jat kingdom of Bhurtpore ; and in 1803, its superb fortifications, erected by King Souraj-Mull about a century before, enabled a few French officers in the service of Scindia, the Mah- ratta prince, to hold in check Lord Lake’s victorious army after the battle of Las- wari. This same monarch constructed, about 1725, a splendid palace, regarded as the best instance of modern Hindoo art. It is composed of many detached pavilions surrounded by a fine garden, and situated between two small lakes, outside the walls. The principal edifice is the Gopal Bhowan, built upon a high terrace on the = =a = = = = == —SES= = = = = == = = = = = SS = Fe S| = == - = ie = . | —— = ” I ! 4 = e — a we wie <—) ea = = wT RON Salas Wns saath Se RAHAT = SSS ny oT Ii EAN —= aS sie — ap “3 pei Ne Se ae — FN —— oe re = Il } Wy ee oe 4 == Re y a f 4 a : : i py bricked : i PL irtedlr = fe ee ae ay Pac | Palo Salo =a)) Mat ata : ge i, l 4 | h ma Hit i Ke ” 1 rN \" vie 5 Te V7 Ly) Se Zi lle 7 i =} | Nl BEZ | f Hele Ge Ligue: id} | NA UU ss! UES ey ae ; Mic Tia {aL a AZ Peak a Gee han = P SS ee EO ETS = - oS ———— —— > Vii = ——— ||“ a |) oe Me | Kai ini? | Ny H \ ? N s 4 TECK | : A G cy, ey. Y g Palace of Cdépal Bhowan. shore of the western lake. Its water-front, which we present here, is very elegant, with its balconies and colonnades, and the two marble kiosques that make the angles. The garden is filled with orange and other fruit-trees, and its shady avenues are paved, and bordered by canals for irrigation. Leaving Digh, the traveller for a while finds himself in the midst of desolate, — stony plains, without any redeeming feature of beauty in the landscape. He soon, however, enters upon the mountain region of Mewat, and the approach to Ulwur, SCENES [N MANY LANDS. 187 the capital of the little kingdom, is most picturesque. The city lies upon a low hill, crowning its top with palaces, and around it is an array of higher summits of singular outline and imposing height. Over all these hill-tops runs the chain of forts and bastions and walls which defend the town, while their slopes are brilliant with the richest vegetation. There are two beautiful palaces, but, as is usual in these Indian cities, a mau- soleum of some famous prince is the finest building of all. The illustration which we give below represents that of the Rajah Buktawur Sing, a work of the last century. It is entirely of marble, resting on a pedestal of red sandstone, and is = = é " ry 4 "d hives i = Af Nii - bee 7 if \ 5 OE T Ts} A \ ——————— PAPS S AIalnietta gat S AY Hal ARIEL ileettes ual \\ MN oa enen . iN z SN attics ast! << AA AM Pei Py oF fA SS : ; A ria : Ce hi i | jp! bn a aN TA a fi : k H ra i | citer batat ctr) Sod A Mea A| | ill | Ed imal eth, ! rity SL its | i lh H \ ! { {} eee f i Hi Man o i u i] HH | i | Bs a fr peeeace: li | | Hy al I | } 2 at Me nH a | i i mal ANU MTL ! M : EU HL A TT igi ANNA ———— HR i Nal AO =U NS ll jeer | UO : ——— Mausoleum, Ulwur. surmounted by a dome of somewhat unusual outline, topped by a massive stone pinnacle. A journey of ten days, on horseback or on camels, through a delightful and varied country, brings us to Ambeer, the ancient queen of the mountains, founded by the Minas, the great aboriginal race of Upper India, and for many centuries their capital. Approaching Ambeer the road climbs a hill, winds through a dense wood, and suddenly coming out into open ground, reveals the mysterious valley lying far below. Let the reader imagine a deep crater whose sides are lined with a dense 188 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. and gloomy jungle; in the centre a cone of verdure, serving as pedestal to a marble palace, fairy-like and radiant, before which would pale all the marvels of Granada or Seville; all around this cone, a silent and»deserted city, of which the meanest house is itself a palace; and lastly, a lake with blackish waters. Such is the first effect of Ambeer; but what is indescribable about it is the sensation which comes over the traveller, after a few minutes’ contemplation. Nothing so romantic, so mys-= ’ Pp 5 ’ URDU AT ag on Golden Kiosque, Ambeer. terious was ever seen before; you ask yourself if it be not a dream from the Arabian Nights, and whether some one will not come suddenly to disturb the silence of this sleeping city, and cause some frightful mystery to spring from it. The palace espe- cially has something supernatural about it; the domes covered with plates of gold and of blue enamel, the turrets of marble of an ivory-yellow, the walls decorated with gilded balconies: surely this is the Palace of Scheherazade. wu [ras Hh | iff ts will CZ ew ih se 2 (S55) es mnt DZ ZSOURT OF THE PALACE. OUDEYPOOR. {90 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. We add with regret that the sole inhabitants of this region of fairy-like mag- nificence are tribes and legions of the great hunouman, the largest of the Indian monkeys ! Between Ambeer and Bombay, the city of chief importance is Oudeypoor, the capital of Meywar, one of the states tributary to the British government, but retain- ing a native sovereign, called the Maha Rana, and known in his own domains by the imposing title “The Sun of the Hindoos.” 3 The first view of the city is very striking, as the traveller approaches it. In the foreground a long line of forts, pagodas, and palaces is relieved against.a forest of gardens, behind which rises the city, a curious mass of towers, steeples, and kiosques, ascending a pyramidal hill; the summit bears a marble palace, shining white against the blue background .of the hills. Neither pen nor pencil can give an adequate idea of the beauty of this city, so well named Oudeypoor —“ the City of the Rising Sun.” Closely built up to the city walls are an extensive group of suburbs, where every hillock is covered with luxuriant gardens, adorned with kiosques and fountains. EHn- tering by a gateway flanked with bastions, we find ourselves on the edge of a mag- nificent bazaar. The houses are all built of stone, with flat, terraced roofs ; the shops are situated under arcades that border the street on each side, and have a neatness and regularity of aspect almost unknown in Oriental cities. The Palace of Oudeypoor, the largest and most magnificent in India, covers the entire crest of the hill which rises in the centre of the city, and the natural extent — of the ground not being sufficient, the Hindoo architects increased it by throwing out from one side of the hill an immense terrace, supported on three tiers of arches: this work is of such solidity that part of the palace rests on this “made land,” and the remainder of it is inclosed as a great court-yard, containing barracks and parks of elephants. ‘T'wo walls inclose the mass of buildings composing the palace, of which the entire length is more than two miles. The principal entrance is from the side of the city, — a beautiful marble gate, with three archways, crowned by an attic of extreme richness ; the panels, balconies, and domes are covered with decorations in exquisite taste, and without any intro- duction of idols. Within is the grand court-yard, on two sides of which are the royal © apartments; the walls are ornamented with galleries at each story, and the angles are occupied by octagonal towers, surmounted by cupolas. The height of the palace is a hundred and twenty-three feet, but the dazzling whiteness of the marble of which it is entirely composed, and the grand simplicity of the architecture, augment its proportions, and would lead one to believe it couble its actual size. | The interior of the palace harmonizes with the stately fagades, and is well suited to the requirements of a tropical climate; dark corridors, with gentle inclination, take 7 I — a ee E i eee) Wey i i i i ‘\ i i a : ; i : i Hi ; ! it PROCESSION OF A MAHRATTA PRINCE. [92 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the place of stairs, leading from story to story ; the large, well-lighted apartments have walls and floors of marble ; there are court-yards and fountains and flowers at every turn. The great halls are hung with draperies ; soft cushions and rugs cover the floors, and the walls glitter with mirrors and brilliant frescos. One of the rooms is decorated with an odd kind of mosaic, which makes the visitor smile, but is really no more absurd than the porcelain salons of Fontainebleau and other French palaces: its walls are covered with European plates and cups and saucers, the commonest crockery side by side with the most expensive Dresden, — a two-penny salt-cellar with a vase of Bohemian glass. Little did the Hindoo artist care what his materials cost; he looked only to the colors of them, and contrived to obtain from this het- erogeneous mass certain original and graceful effects. The frescos in many of the rooms are of great interest. They contain portraits of all the Ranas or sovereigns of Oudeypoor, and scenes of importance in the reign of each. Painted with care and with a remarkable skill in the use of color, they are valuable memoranda of the history and manners of this Indian race. The illustration (p. 191) represents one of those military processions, seen frequently in the west of India, where some Mahratta prince appears before his subjects with a splendor unknown elsewhere in the world. ‘The display commences with the native troops commanded by Huropean officers, then the Arab corps, the squadrons of Mah- ratta cavalry, the field artillery, the musketeers, the cannoneers mounted on drome- daries, and many thousand troops to swell the procession to as great length as possible. Then comes the royal standard-bearer, mounted on a superb elephant painted and covered with embroidered housings ; the man bears a flag of cloth of gold forty feet in length. Around him are a body of picked cavalry, specially charged with the defence of the standard. Armed with long lances and curved sabres, they are clad with extreme richness; their coats of crimson velvet, tight-fitting trousers, and pointed shoes, form as perfect a knightly costume as could be imagined. Some of them wear a light steel morion and Saracenic coat of mail; others have heavy cui- rasses of buffalo-skin richly ornamented. The tips of their lances are silvered, and their bucklers of rhinoceros-skin decorated with golden bosses. After them follow an immense drum-corps, with instruments of every size and form, more agreeable to see than to hear; and then the nobility of the kingdom on prancing horses, surrounded by their servants carrying banners, and by heralds loudly proclaiming the importance of their respective masters. To them succeed the high officials of the kingdom, ministers, high-priests, and courtiers. Each one of these personages is seated upon an elephant, whose gold-fringed covering reaches to the ground. ‘T'wenty or thirty elephants, proud of their adornments, thus defile, with grave and majestic air; most of them have trunk and forehead painted with fantas- tic designs, and wear on the head tall aigrettes of white plumes. Hach dignitary SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 193 sits cross-legged in a superb houdah, and over him is held a splendid parasol, which, by its degree of richness, indicates his rank at court. Lastly comes the prince himself, preceded by his family, his sons and daughters seated upon elephants. The prince’s houdah is of solid gold, sparkling with gems. Dressed in crimson velvet and sparkling with diamonds, he sits on his embroidered | | ITAA i Pagoda. Bombay. cushions, and behind him is his principal minister, in costume as brilliant as his own. On each side of the elephant two men stand on the steps of the houdah waving peacock fans. One of the four is the royal herald, who displays a flag, and proclaims the dignity and valor of his master. The crowd falls prostrate as the ele- phant passes by. The animal, almost hidden under his trappings, seems like a moun- tain of gold and diamonds seen through the perfumed smoke of the censers borne 194 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. before him, and the man in whose honor this parade takes place, sits aloft with impassive face and folded arms, most like the Hindoo conception of Divinity. A short distance west of Oudeypoor the traveller strikes the railway of the west coast, and in a few hours reaches Bombay, the most cosmopolitan city of India. The diversity of race among the inhabitants of Bombay is at once apparent. Besides the Hindoos, the sons of the soil, and the English, its conquerors, there is the Arab wrapped in his burnous, the Persian in black garments, with tall Astrakan cap, the Jaines and the Banyans with odd-shaped turbans, the Bhoras and Khodjas, the Abys- sinians with negro features, the long-robed Armenians, the Jews, the Parsees with their black mitres, the Scindes with square cap, and many others less easily recognized at sight. Differing from each other in religion, it may well be supposed that the people Native Cottages in Ceylon. of Bombay have their crowd of places of worship. The city is the residence of an English bishop, and a Roman Catholic vicar, and it contains numberless Parsee temples, where the sacred fire burns day and night. There are also Hindoo pagodas, of — which the one represented on page 193 has the chief claim to our admiration. But of all the great Indian cities Bombay offers least to the traveller in search of the picturesque. A sea-voyage down the Malabar coast in one of the English. steamers which ply between Bassorah, at the head of the Persian Gulf, and Singapore, the most southern port of the Malay peninsula, touching at the principal ports on the route, is a very agreeable and interesting journey. One never wearies of admiring the beautiful hills covered with dense forests, which succeed one another along the coast, —the low ground laden with the most luxuriant crops whose brilliant green con- SCENES [N MANY LANDS. 195 trasts with the blue water of the Arabian sea, — and the little towns, with their white houses against the dark background of the wooded slopes. A brief delay in the open roadstead of Colombo, the capital of Ceylon, affords time for a short excursion into the country, where vegetation has all the luxuriance of the tropics, and several varieties of palms subserve to almost all the wants of the natives, whether in food, clothing, or lodging. (See page 194.) ails inn Mitre Interior of the Pagoda. Madura. On the eastern side of the great Indian peninsula is the region formerly known as the Carnatic, extending from Cape Comorin to the river Kistna. This is now in- cluded in the presidency of Madras, the portion of India most purely Hindoo and Brahminical, and it is here that we find the chief examples of a kind of architecture known to ethnologists as the Dravidian, and familiar to us as the “pagoda style.” \ 196 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. These temples consist almost invariably of four parts: the central structure, usu- ally small and unimportant, in which the image or emblem of the divinity is placed; the porches, or mantapas, leading to this cell; the gate-pyramids, or gopuras; and the pillared halls, or choultries, used for various purposes, which are often of vast dimensions. Besides, there are always tanks of water used for sacred purposes, and usually many dwellings of priests, in the immediate neighborhood of the temple. The character of the Dravidian races is far inferior to that of the Aryan, and their religion has always been a degrading fetich-worship. They had no intellectual or moral aspirations to express in their sacred buildings, and offered to their divin- ities only a tribute of patient and minute toil. “To cut a chain of fifty links out of a block of granite,” says Fergusson, “and suspend it between two pillars, was with them a triumph of art. To hollow deep cornices out of the hardest basalt, and to leave all the framings, as if of the most delicate woodwork, standing free, was with them a worthy object of ambition, and their sculptures are still inexplicable mysteries, from our ignorance of how it was possible to execute them. All that millions of hands working through centuries could do, has been done, but with hardly any higher motive than to employ labor and to conquer difficulties, so as to aston- ish by the amount of the first and the cleverness with which the second was over- come—and astonished we are; but without some higher motive, true architecture cannot exist. The Dravidians had not even the constructive difficulties to overcome which enabled the medizyval architects to produce such noble fabrics as our cathe- drals. The aim of architects in the Middle Ages was to design halls which should at the same time be vast and stable, and suited for the accommodation of great multitudes to witness a lofty ritual. In their struggle to accomplish this, they de- veloped intellectual powers which impress us still through their works. No such lofty aims exercised. the intellectual faculties of the Hindoo. His altar and the statue of his god were placed in a dark cubical cell wholly without ornamentation, and he thought he had accomplished all his art demanded when he covered every part of his building with the most elaborate and the most difficult designs he could invent. Much of this ornamentation, it is true, is very elegant, and evidences of power and labor do impress the human imagination often even in defiance of our better judg- ment, and nowhere is this more apparent than in these Dravidian temples. It is in vain, however, that we look among them for any manifestation of those lofty aims and noble results which constitute the merit and the greatness of true architectural art. In nine cases out of ten these buildings are a fortuitous aggregation of parts, arranged without plan as accident dictated at the time of their erection.” At Madura, near the southern extremity of the peninsula, is a pagoda of great size, remarkable as containing the most beautiful choultry, or pillared hall, in all the ‘Presidency. It was commenced in 1623, and finished in 1645, at an expense of more 7? fi SCENES [IN MANY LANDS. tot than five millions of dollars. It is entirely of stone, three hundred and twenty feet long, eighty feet broad, and twenty feet from pavement to roof, which latter is formed of granite blocks resting upon the pillars. The hall consists of a nave and two side aisles, and the effect of these three great galleries is really superb. All the way down the nave, besides bas-reliefs and arabesques with which each column is loaded, the statues of Indian monarchs are detached in full relief from each, and the capi- tals are carved in representation of gigantic animals with fierce and menacing air, who seem ready to spring upon the offender who dares enter these sacred precincts. The illustration (page 195), drawn from a photograph, exhibits the entrance to this wonderful hall. If the temple at Madura contains the most elaborate ornamentation of any in southern India, that of Seringham (page 199) is unquestionably the largest and most harmonious. ‘The outside wall of the inclosure measures twenty-four hundred and sev- enty-five feet by twenty-eight hundred and eighty feet. There are ten great pyram- idal gates, or gopuras, and if the temple had been finished there would have been twenty, that is, four in‘each of the five concentric walls surrounding the small domed building which is regarded as the sanctuary. The date of this structure is surprisingly recent, work on it having been stopped by the ten years’ struggle between the English and French for the possession of Trichinopoly (1750-60). If we allow fifty years back of this date for the commencement of the building, we still bring the whole within the limits of the eighteenth century. Between the first and second walls, Hindoos of inferior caste are allowed to re- side; within the second inclosure none but Brahmins are permitted ; within the third are certain families of priests of Vishnu ; within the fourth are various small temples -and mantapas. One of these, called the thousand-columned mantapa, has sixteen columns in front and sixty-five in depth. They are spaced evenly ten feet apart from centre to centre, and as the hall is only from ten to fifteen feet high, it will be seen what a remarkable instance this is of misapplied labor. Hach pillar is, how- ever, a monolith, and they are all carved more or less elaborately, so that there is after all something very impressive about this wilderness of stone. The central in- closure, where rests in eternal slumber “the blue god,” Vishnu, is forbidden to ordi- nary mortals. The sanctuary in which he reposes is small and low, and surmounted by a dome of gilded copper. Within this inviolable inclosure are the kitchens where the divinity’s repast is sedulously prepared, and a whitish smoke arising from them is te is y preparea, all that betrays what goes on within. As a pendant to this gigantic Dravidian temple, we present on page 201 a pic- ture of a mosque standing in a garden just outside Trichinopoly ; simple and plain, it requires no description, and the contrast points its own moral. At Tanjore, a few miles from Trichinopoly, and connected with it by a railway 198 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. built about 1860, there is an immense pagoda, not varying in any important respect from the type of that at Madura. There is also a famous palace of the Mahratta princes, represented on page 200, concerning which we shall give some details. “ Although, like all nations of Turanian race,” says Fergusson, “the Dravidians were extensive and enthusiastic builders, it is somewhat singular that till they came in contact with the Mahomedans, all their efforts in this direction should have been devoted to the service of religion. No trace of any civil or municipal building is to be found anywhere, though, from the stage of civilization that they had attained, it might be expected that such must have existed. What is even more remarkable is, that no castle or fortification dates from the days of the native rulers of the Carnatic. Most singular of all is the fact that they have no tombs. ‘They seem always to have burned their dead, and never to have collected their ashes, or raised any mounds or memorials to their departed friends or great men. No Dravidian tomb or cenotaph is known to exist anywhere. “When, however, the Dravidians came in contact with the Mussulmans, this state of affairs was entirely changed, in so far at least as the civil buildings were con- cerned. ‘The palaces, the elephant stables, and the dependencies of the abodes of their rajahs, rival in extent and in splendor the temples themselves, and are not surpassed in magnificence by the finest Mahomedan palaces. “One of the most interesting peculiarities of these civil buildings is that they are all in a new and different style of architecture from that employed in the tem- ples, and the distinction between the civil and religious art is kept up to the pres- ent day. The civil buildings are all in what we should call a pointed-arched Moorish style, picturesque in effect if not always in the best taste, and using the arch every- where and for every purpose. In the temples the arch is never used as an archi- tectural feature. In some places, in modern times, when they wanted a larger internal space than could be obtained by bracketing without great expense, a brick vault was introduced, —it may be said surreptitiously, for it is always concealed. Even now, in building gopuras, they employ modern beams supported by pillars as lintels, to cover the central openings in the upper pyramidal part, and this wood having decayed, many of the more modern exhibit symptoms of decay which are not observable in the older examples, where a stone lintel was always employed. But it is not only in construction that the Dravidians adhere to their old forms in temples. There are, especially, some gopuras erected within the limits of this century and erecting even now, which it requires a practised eye to distinguish from the older examples ; but with the civil buildings the case is quite different. It is not indeed clear how a convenient palace could be erected in the trabeate style of the temples, unless wood were very extensively employed, both in the supports and the roofs. My conviction a ets =} - : d / } SERINGHAM. PAGODA. 200 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. is that this was really the case, and its being so, to a great extent at least, ac- counts for their disappearance.” With the Mussulman rule, however, begins the use of the arch in civil build- ings, and the Palace of ‘T’anjore is a fine instance of the later architecture of this semi-Moorish description. It was probably commenced in the latter part of the sey- enteenth century, but most of its buildings belong to the eighteenth, and some even to the nineteenth. The visitor is at first struck with the contrasts existing in it between the most abject poverty and a truly royal splendor. It will be remembered, however, that in India every rajah is surrounded by thousands of servants, who share Interior Court. Palace at Tanjore. his good or his bad fortune, and must be lodged under his roof. Hence the neces- sity for extensive apartments suited to these impecunious followers. Externally the palace makes no show; two gates, one of which is very lofty, giving entrance to elephants, and a seven-storied tower, —a curious specimen of Indo- Mussulman architecture, — alone distinguish the exterior of the royal dwelling from the huts which surround it. The main courtyard is surrounded, as in all native struc- tures, by dilapidated and filthy buildings, swarming with the crowd of the rajah’s de- pendants. But one thing gives an Oriental stamp to the place, the presence of a couple of fine living elephants, one on each side of the gate, on a platform of masonry, 1 WHAT Mn att = Pat —- ee rs Ta TOMEI NGA NM) ‘i mn } i ia nN l ih Ki ) i yt " ( TN NK (W ( wi nt it hint SS} \ HC YANG AN tis | ( Pel | il ( ) ( MOSQUE NEAR TRICHINOPOLY. 202 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. to which they are chained by the foot : majestic colossi, incorruptible guardians of the palace of a king. A quadrangular court far within (represented on page 200), contains the statue of Sivadji, the late rajah. The western fagade, of bricks and chunam, a kind of stucco made of calcined madrepore, is the purest and best specimen of Indo-Mussulman art under the native dynasty. The ornaments are remarkable for the elegance and variety of their design. On the side beneath which stands the marble statue of Sivadji, the archivolts, too heavily laden, and the columns, somewhat too massive, are not so sat- isfactory as the simpler arches and balconies of the other side. When the native princes, surrounded by their court and warriors, sat in state upon the granite block which now serves as a pedestal for the sculptured figure of the last Mahratta ruler, it must have been a fine and imposing display. The block measures twenty-seven feet in length by twenty in breadth, and nearly four in height; its sides are ornamented with bas-reliefs representing wars of demons. Here, formerly, justice was dispensed. The statue, the work of Chantrey, is extremely beautiful. The rajah is represented in the attitude of devotion, looking towards the temple. On the wall, behind the statue, is a bas-relief in stucco. The palace contains an arsenal and a library. The latter is rich in Tamu, Teloogoo, and Sanskrit manuscripts, written upon leaves of a kind of palm-tree ; it also contains many Huropean books of no special value. In all the architecture of the Palace of Tanjore one fact is brought constantly before the eye and mind—the hatred of the Hindoo for symmetry. All the arches differ among themselves in outline, and the most diverse ornaments succeed one an- ~ other without harmony. On pages 203 and 205 we represent the Pagoda of Chillambaran, one of the — most venerated, and reputed to be one of the most ancient temples in southern India. Modern research has, however, been forced to relinquish the date of the sixth cen- tury, which was at one time relied on, and the tenth or eleventh century is now believed to be the earliest period to which any part of the building can be attrib- uted. The temple of Parvati, of which a gallery and staircase are represented on page 201, was added in the fourteenth or fifteenth century, and the hall of a thou- sand columns was almost certainly erected between 1595 and 1685. : Although this temple has been aggregated at different ages,” says the distin guished author of the “ History of Indian and Eastern Architecture,” to whom we have before referred, “and has grown by accident rather than design like those at Seringham and Tiruvalur, it avoids the great defect of those temples; for though like them it has no tall central object to give dignity to the whole from the out- side, internally the centre of its great court is occupied by a tank, round which the various objects are grouped without at all interfering with one another. The temple | | Ss - -.S. e ee iy | i sl ill i He lu | il y oe <-> ms Behe dayjeseevegpi> wii eae PAGODA OF CHILLAMBARAN. 204 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. itself is one important object to the eastward of it; the Parvati temple another, on the north, forming a pleasing pendant to the thousand-columned choultry at the south.” The exterior inclosure is formed by a wall more than thirty feet in height: more than ten feet thick at the base, it is reduced first at half and then at three quarters of its height, by about twenty inches on each side, so that at the top it is scarcely more than three feet in thickness. Externally it is all of hewn stone, but is said to be brick within. It is more than six thousand feet in circumference, and surrounded by a fine road bordered with cocoanut-trees. The four entrances are only breaks in the wall, and have no ornament. A second wall, less regular and much lower than the first, succeeds. This is partly of brick and partly of hewn stone. The interval between the two walls contains no building, but is filled with beautiful trees whose height serves as a scale by which to estimate the immense buildings within. In this second wall are the immense gopuras, one of which is represented in the illustration, page 205. These are four, of nearly equal size; their positions are not respectively regular ; their general form is a truncated pyramid, resting on a great rectangular mass of hewn stone covered with carvings, while the: whole upper part of the structure is of brick, ornamented with mouldings in stucco, and seven stories in height. The entire height is about one hundred and forty feet, thirty-five feet being hewn stone. What may be called the basement of these gopuras has verti- cal sides forming two stories, separated by mouldings and cornices, the whole coy- ered with grotesque carved figures that only photography could reproduce. In the lower story, each statue has a rectangular niche, never rounded above. ‘The niche is quite deep, surrounded by columns, and surmounted by a pediment, like a little temple. The divinities are of stone, and are either fully detached or in very high relief. They all seem to be of the same fine, light-colored sandstone, and cut out of a single block. Often, to increase the difficulty, they are cut out of the same block as the niche. As most of them are of larger than life-size, it will be readily seen what immense blocks must have been required for the work. These figures represent the numerous divinities that Hindoo superstition has created. Some have heads of elephants, of horses, or of oxen; others brandish a dozen arms. Many, appearing indifferent or sleepy, are seated on cushions, one leg pendent, the other drawn up under them. Hach niche is ornamented on the sides with columns or pilas- ters carved in arabesques or representing figures: these ornaments are in great variety, and in some cases are very elegant. The friezes which separate the stories or sur- mount them are rounded, forming a sort of projecting gutter, decorated with carved work, and beneath there is a succession of rude figures of birds, the stone between being also carved. 2a» NVUVGWVTIIHO AO VOAODVdI “MNVL | —— ] f) an = Al : 4 A AAT a ay (ae th ie ee Leiter areee | Tenag VG all) al ne 7 = (ill : ral Wikia 3 206 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The second story of the basement is twice the height of the lower. Tt is much less decorated ; there are indeed great spaces wholly bare.. In the centre, near the door, are two great niches in brickwork, with three more on each side. These are much larger than those of the lower story, and contain grotesque figures of divinities. Those of the central niches are of colossal size. This basement, which we have thus described, is traversed by a great entrance-way or door, twenty-five feet high and fourteen feet broad. Its form is rectangular, and its roof consists of enormous stones supported by pilasters, and by four enormous mon- oliths, thirty feet high and twenty-eight inches in diameter. Without comparing these pillars to the obelisks of Egypt, we cannot but be amazed at their size and num- ber, each gopura having four. They are said to have been brought from a quarry thirty miles away, and must have been transported over sandy ground, no commu- nication by water being possible. Nothing but the religious fanaticism of India could, like that of Egypt, have executed such labors, and, in addition, we must suppose an advanced condition of science, that the labor of many men could have been concen- trated to effect such results. These four monoliths are not carved, perhaps to show that each is a single stone ; but the pilasters are a mass of the richest work, and so are the columns of the two lateral entrances, and the vaults overhead. All the carving has been done with the utmost care, and the edges are as sharp as if finished yesterday. Above this massive base rise the seven stories of the gopura. The first six are alike, though retreating as they ascend. Besides a frieze, each story has its walls ornamented with columned niches, in which there are statues ; ascending, the dimen- sions grow less, and the character changes slightly. Hach story also has little structures built out at the angles. All these small temples, borne by the large one, are mingled with statues sometimes much larger than life-size, making discordant gestures, and having traces of brilliant paint upon them. Hach story, up to the seventh, also has a door serving to give light to its interior. The seventh story is a sort of round-roofed house, covered with a similitude in stucco of round or pointed tiles, surmounted by those flattened balls ending in a point which are seen on mosques. These balls are of stucco, like the rest, but are said to have been formerly of gold. Upon the very top of the building there is a hideous figure of great size; it has an enormous mouth with pointed teeth, two of them curved tusks, pointed ears, and on the head two horns. The eyes are great white balls, very projecting, and sur- rounded with red and yellow. The study of this gopura is a course in Hindoo theogony. The whole Indian Olympus is depicted here: Brahma, with his five heads and four arms; Vishnu, “the blue god,” sitting upon the folds of a serpent, whose five heads cover him like a canopy ; Siva, white and livid, with the hideous head above described. Among the TU] i ied 2 Y iil z ie ll Th i ny Natt pare ML hah i Hi } y i te inl im ial arn ce Mh : ! sail ue a me we tae” sificet ih i ra) IN se SN) and even a Car of Juggernaut is not so heayy as erated since the “good old times,’ it once was! They are now of wood, but being something like thirty feet long and equally broad, and of enormous height, they still require thousands of men, drawing upon six strong cables, to moye them along the road from the temple to the pleasure- garden where the divinity takes his airmg. The illustration on page 213 represents, however, the primitive type, as existing to this day in the ruins of Bidjanuggur. Captain Mundy, an English officer who visited the temple in 1829, gives a viva- cious account of his view of the idols on occasion of their airing in the car, “an event which,” he says, “fortunately occurs but twice a year.” “Their godships were formed up in line, on an elevated terrace within the en- closure, and protected from the night dews by an extensive and gaudy canopy of ° many-colored cloths. The evening was dark, and at intervals blue lghts were thrown up, to enable the spectators to yiew the ceremony; but the idols being almost con- stantly hidden by a forest of chouries and hand-punkahs diligently agitated by the attendant Brahmins, to prevent the flies and mosquitoes from invading their sacred noses, we sent a polite message to the Raj-Goru, or chief priest, requesting that he would cause the officials to open out for an instant to the right and left in order to afford us the satisfaction of contemplating the expressive countenances of the wor- shipful trio. Our embassy succeeded ; the crowd fell back from before them; two brilliant lights were illumined, and we saw distinctly three frigatful wooden faces, of the respective colors of black, brown, and yellow, the lower portions of the figures being closely swathed in cloth wrappers.” a SCENES [NV MANY LANDS. 217 “The following day the idols were again consigned to their niches in the temple. Upon this occasion it is the annual custom for Juggernaut to declare himself to be en petite santé, from the effects of a severe cold, consequent, probably, upon his bath, which continues to afflict him until the day when, by the wise treatment of his physi- cians, he is restored to his usual good health !” The city of Calcutta, though a large and important place, has less architectura} li Pagoda near Kuttack. importance than any of the great Indian capitals. We shall therefore pass it by, and. giving a picture of the splendid mosque at Hoogly, a few miles out of Calcutta on the north, we shall conclude our illustrations of India, where so many of Art’s greatest treasures are gathered, with Nature’s grandest marvel, the Mountain Gaurisankar, the - culminating point of the earth’s surface, a peak which rises to the height of twenty- nine thousand and two feet above the level of the sea. 218 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. i 1 Hy Gaurisankar. At the base of the great Himalaya range lies the valley of the Ganges, parallei with it for twelve hundred miles, and affording access to much of its grandest scenery. Bleven hours by rail from Calcutta, four hours in a river steamboat, a hundred and twenty-four miles in a dak gharri, or mail-cart, then fourteen miles on horseback or in a palanquin to the foot of the lower hills, and by similar means to the top of them, SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 219 bring the traveller to Darjiling, a point whence is obtained a magnificent view of the very highest peaks of this mighty range. “Unfortunately,” says Andrew Wilson, “ Gaurisankar, the loftiest mountain of all, is out of the reach of nearly all travellers, owing to our weakness in allowing Nepaul to exclude Englishmen from its territory ; but if any one is very anxious to try Chinese Thibet, he will find one of the doors into it by going up from Darjiling, through the protected state of Sikkim; but whether the door will open at his request is quite another thing, and if he kicks at it, he is quite likely to find him- self suddenly going down the mountains faster than he went up them. Verbum sat sapientibus ; but if one could only get through this door, it is a very short way from it to Lassa, the capital of Thibet, — which, possibly, is the reason why it is kept so strictly guarded. “Gaurisankar and the highest peaks of the Himalaya are on the border between Nepaul and Thibet, and form a group somewhat obtruding from the line of the main range. It is provoking that the weak foreign policy of the Indian government, a policy, however, which has been very much forced upon it from home, should allow the Nepaulese to exclude English travellers from their territory. This policy places about five hundred miles out of the reach of the English traveller, though these five hundred miles contain the culminating point of the whole range, the most splendid jewel in the ‘stony girdle of the earth.’” Though denied to the English, travellers of other nations have succeeded in making their way into this closely guarded region ; and the illustration on page 218 is reproduced from a sketch made upon the spot by Schlagintweit. A first view of the Himalaya Mountains is described by Wilson with enthusi- asm. “From Landaur,” he says, “a sea of mist stretched from my feet, veiling, but not altogether concealing, ridge upon ridge of dark mountains, and even covering the lower portions of the distant great wall of snow. No sunlight as yet fell upon this dark yet transparent mist, in which the mountainous surface of the earth, with its black abysses, seemed sunk as in a gloomy ocean, bounded by a huge coral-reef. But above this, dazzling and glorious in the sunlight, high up in the deep _ blue heavens, there rose a white, shining line of gigantic ‘icy summits reared in air.” Noth- ing could haye been more peculiar and striking than the contrast between the wild mountainous country below — visible, but darkened as in an eclipse —and these lofty domes and pinnacles of eternal ice and névé. No cloud or fleck of mist marred their surpassing radiance. very glacier, snow-wall, icy aiguille, and smooth-rounded snow- field, gleamed with marvellous distinctness in the morning light, though here and _ there the sunbeams drew out a more overpowering brightness. These were the Jumnotri and Gangotri peaks, the peaks of Badrinath and of the Hindoo Kailas ; the source of 220 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. mighty sacred rivers; the very centre of the Himalaya; the Himmel or Heaven of the Teuton Aryans, as well as of Hindoo mythology.” | The story of the expedition to which we owe the sketch here reproduced, is one of the deepest interest. Adolf Schlagintweit, with his brothers Hermann and Rob- ert, all three distinguished at the university for their Alpine explorations, were recom- mended by Bunsen and Humboldt to the English government as suitable persons to take charge of the magnetic survey of India, left incomplete by the death of Cap- tain Elliot in 1852. The English government supplied them liberally with money and instruments, and they sailed from Southampton, September 20, 1854. Landing at Bombay, they separated, and proceeded by different. routes to Madras, making scien- tific observations on the way. ‘Thence, early in the following year, they sailed for Calcutta, and on the 25th of March, Adolf and Robert entered upon their first Hima- layan journey. From this time until October they explored the passes and glaciers of the range, reaching at one time an elevation of twenty-two thousand two hun- dred and sixty feet, the greatest height ever attained by any European traveller. In the latter part of autumn they. came down to Agra, and Adolf proceeded alone to Madras. In April, 1856, the three brothers, rejoining one another after independent explora- tions in Central India, again forced their way into the midst of the Himalayan giants, and passed the summer in making new researches. At the close of the year Robert returned to Hurope by way of Bombay, and Hermann by way of Calcutta, Adolf remaining to pursue his researches further in Thibet and Turkestan. But the deci- sion was a fatal one. In March, 1857, he crossed the Bara-Lacha Pass into Thibet, and proceeded to Kashgar; and here, in August, he was killed by the Turkomans. His journal, consisting of a hundred and thirty-five closely written pages, and bear- ing date up to August 11, was recovered by the English government ; it describes a region never before visited by any scientific traveller. . The two surviving brothers have in preparation a complete narrative of the ex- pedition, in nine quarto volumes, with maps and views, which will doubtless be, when completed, a work of unrivalled importance, containing as it does the results of three years exploration of the loftiest and most inaccessible mountains on the globe. . SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 221 ‘HE yast regions which, in the form of a double peninsula, lie between the Bay of Bengal and the China Sea, are scarcely known, except upon the coast, the interior presenting a field for useless and wearisome conjectures.” It is more than sixty years since Malte-Brun wrote these lines concerning the country at which we have now arrived, in our journey around the world. The learned geographer was well aware that the general relief of this region was formed by four chains of mountains, beginning in Thibet, extending themselves towards the south, and enclosing between their parallel escarpments three long and superb valleys, watered each by its great river; but he adds that these rivers were as yet almost entirely unexplored. The six decades, so fruitful in discovery, which have passed over the work of Malte-Brun, have raised in a great degree the veil that once concealed Indo-China from our eyes. ‘T'wo successive Burman wars have opened to the English the valley of the Irrawaddy; they have explored it as conquerors, and have reduced its southern half to the condition of a province. The length and breadth of Siam has been traversed by European and American travellers, and a French expedition has examined the whole course of the Makong as far as the Chinese frontier, giving special attention on their way to the ruined cities of Cambodia, the most remarkable architectural remains in the whole peninsula. Besides this, all the great Christian sects have had, and still have, mis- sions in Indo-China, many of them possessing established places of worship in Burmah and Siam. 222 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The illustration on the opposite page represents the Great Pagoda of Rangoon, seen from a distance, crowning the city with its elegant conical roof and gilded top. The town itself extends about a mile along the river, and the streets are narrow, but clean and well-paved. The houses are rude bamboo huts, but there are a few built of brick, belonging to Europeans, and since its occupation by the English the place has been fortified. From Rangoon, which is the principal seaport of Burmah, the traveller ascends the Irrawaddy, and at every mile admires the variety and beauty of the landscape. Between the river and the foot of the mountain-chains which define its basin, lie broad strips of low ground displaying the greatest luxuriance of vegetation. The villages are numerous and pleasing; often the sombre mass of a monastery, with its triple stories, commands the cabins and trees of the foreground, while in the middle distance rise low hills covered with dry grass, and crowned with pagodas to which winding paths lead up from every direction. | Approaching the ancient city of Pagan, the river seems to widen. The eastern shore is superb with vegetation. It is a succession of richly wooded valleys, and groups of palm-trees sheltering the villages. The first glimpse of Pagan shows an immense dome, -—the Tsetna-Phya; then, glittering pyramids, rising one above another, and surmounting roofs resplendent with gilding ; dark, gloomy temples, square and solid, whence spring bell-towers shaped like a mitre ; and lastly, a crowd of: cupo- las, black and white, grotesque and fantastic, amid houses, palm-trees, fields, and gardens. Seen from the river, the effect of this architecture is so strange and whimsical that one feels as if he were in a dream. lJLanding, the traveller finds his interest and curiosity increased. But little has been written about Pagan, although it is a eity of much importance; and it was here, amid the ruins of an earlier time, that, on the 8th of February, 1826, the Burman army made its last stand against the Kinglish invaders. The ruins of Pagan cover a space of six miles in length and a mile and a half in width, along the river-bank. The number of temples, either ruined or still standing, is not far from a thousand. They are of great variety : pagodas in shape of a bell, of a button, of a pumpkin, and of an egg; Buddhist temples, and relic- houses, with all the modifications possible to such structures, but having a certain similarity of general outline. For the most part these edifices are of cubic form ; within, a great chamber with vaulted roof; at the main entrance, a great, projecting porch ; on the eastern side, two lateral doors. The plan has the form of a cross; the building rises in successive terraces, ending in a spire which is often a kind of pyramid, swelling out half-way up. These constructions are of brick coyered with plaster. The interior walls and chapels are similarly coated, and richly decorated in 7 ay oS KS I) Ss SS = GRAND PAGODA OF RANGOON 224. VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. fresco. Such is, in general, the type of these temples, which vary in size from eighty to eight hundred square yards. Their most remarkable features are the idols they contain, — colossal images thirty feet high, and all resembling one another. The only difference among them is in attitude : some preach, others pray, others give their benediction. Standing upon pedestals of wood carved to resemble a lotus-flower, they face the entrance of the chapels, which are all adorned with magnificent gates twenty-one feet high. These wooden gates are marvels of carving, representing leafage of the most exquisite finish. The immense niche in which the statue stands is sometimes nearly fifty feet high ; a decoration of gilded metal surrounds it, having the effect of lacework. At the top of the niche, a concealed window pours a flood of light upon the head and shoul- ders of the idol, which, covered with gold, seems swimming in a sea of light. This brilliant vision, in the depths of the gloomy chapel, is imexpressibly effective. The pagodas are all built of bricks cemented with mud. It is difficult to imagine buildings of this kind attaining a height of nearly two hundred feet; but they are almost solid masses, so that the corridors and arched roofs seem excayations. The work has been so- carefully done, besides, the joming of the bricks is so perfect, that it is difficult to introduce between them the blade of a knife. ‘The entire sur- face is covered with plaster, and where this coating remains firm, the buildings are in good condition; where it has given way they have fallen into ruin. The temple of Shwé-Zergoug (page 225) is one of the most celebrated in the kingdom. Every Burman must visit it at least once in his life. Colonel Burney, who visited Ava in 1830, asserts that it was founded by the forty-second king of Pagan, Nauratha Men-zan, about the year 1064 of the Christian era, and was finished by his successor. ‘There is kept in the temple a fac-simile of a tooth of Gauda- ma,—a tooth for which the king sent an army to China. ‘The holy relic, as large as an elephant’s tusk, eluding the invitation, preferred to remain in China, and the . king was forced to content himself with a miraculous duplicate. Amarapoora, the Burman capital, is built upon ground but slightly elevated above the river, and in the rainy season is nearly cut off from the mainland by the rise of the water. It is surrounded by a wall and moat, but its defences are of little importance, and would offer no resistance to modern artillery. The streets intersect one another at right angles, and divide the city into regular squares. The palace stands in the centre, and its walls are believed to be exactly parallel with the city ramparts. | North of this building -is the Palace of the Lord White Elephant, behind which are the common apartments of his Highness, and the stables occupied by the ordinary elephants, belonging to the king. Captain Yule, of the Bengal Engineers, describes the animal living at. the time of his visit as more than fifty years of age, of enor- ae A HNN oi Vi ji Wat iP oJ, hi it ii | a WM ll = % iy \, ae : ela ae EEE SA = ree $e ni rs 24% Z Shc TEMPLE -OF SHIWE-ZERGOUG. PAGAN. | A = 226 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. mous size, but meagre and ill-conditioned, and of a truly royal uncertainty of temper. This elephant was of the color of the spots which are seen on the trunk and ears of the ordinary animal, and well merited his title of “white.” His royal paraphernalia, which is exhibited to visitors, was truly magnificent ; his driving-hook, about forty inches long, was encrusted thickly with pearls; the handle was of crystal, with gold ornaments and two or three bands of rubies. His tiara of cloth of gold was adorned with great rubies and superb diamonds, and circles of “the nine precious stones which turn away malign influences” rested on his forehead. | When the animal is in grand costume, like the great Burman dignitaries and the king himself, he wears on his head a gold badge on which are inscribed all his titles, and between his eyes a crescent of large gems. ‘'o his ears hang enormous silver tassels, and he is caparisoned with scarlet silk embroidered with pure gold. A fief belongs to him, and a special officer of high rank; he has four golden umbrellas, and a household of thirty persons. Before entering his palace, the Burmans lay aside their shoes. The capture of a white elephant is frequently announced, and causes great ex- citement at court. But usually, on investigation, it appears that they are only pre- tenders, to the king’s great regret ; for the capture of a genuine white elephant is a consecration by nature of the reign in which the event occurs. In 1831, one was taken which was white enough to require great respect and an establishment second only to the real White Elephant. But the government was at that time paying off the indemnity of the peace of Yanabo, and was obliged to appropriate to this purpose the revenues of the new-comer. A deputation presented with great pomp to the animal a letter from the king, begging his pardon for the unintentional disrespect, and assuring him that the whole sum should be reimbursed within two months. Exactly in what light the white elephant is regarded by Burmans of intelligence is a thing not easily ascertainable ; but there seems reason to believe that he is considered merely as a traditional attendant upon royalty, like the cream-colored horses which draw Queen Victoria’s carriage when she goes to open or prorogue Parliament. ; The streets of Amarapoora are broad, and clean enough in the dry season. But in the rains the mud becomes intolerable, and almost prevents access to some quar- ters of the city. Most of the houses are constructed of bamboo, raised upon posts. Along the principal streets, a few feet in front of the houses, runs a row of pali- sades, neatly made and whitewashed. The posts supporting them are crowned with flower-pots, and shrubs grow in abundance between the palisades and the house. The™ yaja-mat, or king’s palisade, is designed to prevent the crowd from disrespectfully embarrassing the passage of royalty, and even from looking upon his sacred person; for the proverb, “A cat may look at a king,” does not seem in force in Burmah, “OADNNOG-LNIOOL-VHVIN TE SS SS = Pais == E- = SSS —= —=> = = = | i = —Af a =Hiay | — EZ ; eee 6 om | = eas — i i a chy ADL uly SSS y SS t —— =f = == / S = —— = ——= = = =| ; — 4 * - me iw ‘ . DO we ~ ee lie Di ee ee ee a a a ks 20 ee 228 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. This system of palisades gives an air of neatness to the city, but as it hides both shops and people from view, that is to say all that is most interesting to the stran- ger, it gives a character of great monotony; and it is only when, mounted upon an elephant’s back, he can overlook these barriers, that he is able to form an idea of the really crowded capital. = The illustrations, pages 227 and 229, represent two of the most remarkable ex- amples of Burman architecture, situated at a little distance from the city. They were built, one by the present queen-dowager, the other by her daughter, the wife of the reigning king; and their recent construction explains their yet perfect preservation, despite the rapid decay of all wooden buildings in a country like Burmah. Within their enclosure are numberless monasteries and chapels ; in the centre is a kyoung, or vast sanctuary, about three hundred feet in length. Its one story extends like a wide terrace, on which the various lesser structures rear their quad- ruple roofs. From the balcony upward all is gilded ; coping, balusters, and roofs are covered with sculptures. But it is especially in two little buildings near the central kyoung that the Burman artists have displayed all the luxury of their imagi- nation. In the Maha-Toolut-boungyo, the sanctuary retains the form usual in monasteries, but it is carved as if it were an ivory shrine, and almost covered with the richest gilding. The coping, carved to represent gigantic imperial crowns, is supported by fantastic dragons, which, with bent heads, appear to gnaw at the beams they grasp in their mighty claws, while their tails seem to wave in the air. The quadruple roofs, covered with zine, glitter as if they were of silver; and the walls, encrusted with mosaics, glass, and gilding, sparkle like a sea of light covered with a golden network. Even the ladders which serve to give access from one roof to another, are covered with gold and glass. Along the basement is a series of curious carvings, representing types of different nations, — Burmans, Chinese, and one Englishman! The latter, with his dog and gun, is an amusing caricature, not entirely destitute of truth. In the interior of the building are curious figures of animals conversing among themselves, recalling illustrations of Lia Fontaine. The Maha-comiye-peima, resembling the other in general plan, is even more elabo- rate and splendid. In this edifice the three bell-towers are not gilded, doubtless in consequence of the civil wars of 1852. The contrast between the dull color of the teak-wood and the lustre of the gold produces a charming effect. The basement story, instead of being completely gilded, has panels of scarlet lacquer, with borders carved and gilded. The pilasters are united to each other by golden filigree work of ex- quisite delicacy and finish. The corbels which support the copings of the terraces are different from those of Toolut-boungyo, consisting of human figures with animals’ heads in various attitudes of dancing, and covered with gilding and mosaics. “VIIA d-FAAINOO-VHVWN 2 ae = ts s, ree € -_ Ae —S oS a5 Cis PS EO FBI AR RNS g BAAR ENE fi ¥ a es 7 3 ‘ : ! | = a ee a ee ates eae : - USAT : Soa WS > SD OO x pie NS 5 AX ~ S=S=—SSSSSSSS=_ —= = = Sa C : ecsness —_ = : Sey: =i scvase. LIS DSQII IPSS IIIS SSS ao — 7 ) i \ : ee a a A a a AE XP vg & cS en ae Sa aS ee SS, geen ayy 7 a Yt 230 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The balustrades of the balcony are wonderful. They are not, as ordinarily, pilas- ters of wood or carved panels, but wide bands of sculpture, artistically enlaced with one another ; at their points of contact, curious fantastic figures stand forth, which, if not perfectly well executed, have at least much spirit and originality. Along and under the balcony is a coping in exquisite taste, consisting of carved bands, which repeat the designs of the balcony, and are entwined around shields. Interlaced serpents, enamelled in colored glass, with bouquets of flowers in their mouths, similarly designed, form the stair railings ; and the walls of the upper stories are adorned with crystal mosaics, while the copings and summits of the roofs are of exquisitely carved wood. These kyoungs fill the mind with wonder. We ask ourselves ‘n vain how was it possible for a people having so few resources in respect to tools and implements to produce monuments of skill and taste so precious as these. In odd contrast to these delicate structures is the Temple of Mengoun, eight miles from Amerapoora, an edifice known by the characteristic name of King Mentaragyi’s Folly. This grandfather of the present king employed three quarters of his forty years’ reign, the weary and unrequited toil of thousands of his subjects, and incalculable sums of money, in heaping up masses of brick and mortar to a height of five hun- dred feet. It is said a prediction had united the close of his reign with the ter- mination of his architectural labors. But he left the latter unfinished, and twenty years after, the terrible earthquake of 1839 reduced his temple to the mountain of debris which the photographer’s art permits us faithfully to reproduce on the opposite page. The geological formation of the region watered by the Irrawaddy is very simple. From the delta of the river as far as to the neighborhood of Amerapoora the rocks are of tertiary formation. Sometimes the current forces its way through gorges in these rocks, as below Prome ; sometimes it traverses extensive plains resembling beds of ancient lakes. The general stratification is parallel with the river, although at certain points the strata present obstacles to the current which has been obliged to make its way through deep beds of bluish clay, and even of solid sandstone. This being the general character of the river basin, it is important to observe that the strata are often dislocated, contorted, and broken. Resting upon these dis- located formations is a series of strata of sandstone and conglomerate, less solid than the preceding, but also less interrupted. Often sandy, and at times calcareous, these strata are full of infiltrated iron, and also contain innumerable fossils of mastodons, elephants, the rhinoceros, tapirs, stags, and turtles. Near the capital we find chains of metamorphic and crystalline rock, running north and south, and forming a series of low hills. It is presumable that they are of earlier formation than the tertiary rocks which surround them. There are also trap dykes, evidently owing their origin to the subterranean forces that yet work beneath ————SSSS HSL] SSS —S|— — - Wwes. rs on i il PTTTCTTETTTA ATTA TEETETATATT INTTITT Ty ea) vil j cc GUNG, Np, | Irn , ; { \ \ ft : ME RA ! imi Y i) ad A | HN we A RI \ 7" | ah) | by) S iy Ul 5 A \ \\ ( / | i} : } : H | i i uN u | | [, | fy tf vii Wii ; Lien {i WGA He inde H) chit fat eg A Dil I ié | 7 = fi i} ( an ie ; | ARS alla a eal eer sli : ; | f i) Hi : . I} f | =" BS q \ Ni [ ‘Si " JS AN \ p Ew y / f | a ; y S = Le EAI /- Bs EA ait / a i in ra. hs \ . Ove i i i 7 \ i * ps) Wn 1M) 1 \ va Wy tt . \ Y | Me y i 4 & H(A ise Wa “i = S| li Seat a “i ae =——S SPN AN ( i iH Y \\ Wit = /By Hi Wi Sn ee ae Sa Naa Sa Tastes ‘ “le \ ANY) N Deiat > < | a nyt Hh acs NR Mia Uf ae Ue 3 iM i aise cae Ai K \" ve x ? H lt lg : F } | ! i {ih > Yj AWN : tte yh Ny NYP {; i aii wi {\. Me Se 2 hi cetera Re mi) - i yy IAs in , i inet i} I He i i i} \ i TAN | ‘tt Py i ar ha | I } , mt Wh | 7 hat ( Mans AN Hatin We { en < Lon aay \ : i al ve Ge Se \ fO5 i Nie Tr “ i NN | . Lee THE TEMPLE OF MENGOUN. 232 VOYAGES AND. TRAVELS. the soil of Burmah, shaking it from time to time, and notably in 1839;"Wwhen they bent down like ears of ripened corn, the gigantic temples of Pagan and Mengoun. The same incandescent laboratory whence were thrown out, in earlier ages, the spark- ling rubies of Momeit, and the gold which all the Burman streams bring down in their sands, supplies those vast reservoirs of mineral oil which make the chief riches of the valley of the Irrawaddy, and those volcanoes of boiling mud which bubble ‘up in new cones every day upon the plain .of Membo. At the mouth of the second great river of Indo-China is Bangkok, the Siamese capital, and the basin of this river, the Menam, is the natural geographical extent of Palace. Bangkok. the kingdom. All the central part of this basin is an alluvial plain, cut by inter- secting streams, and under water for many months every year. The environs of Bangkok are, in every direction, as far as eye can see, as flat as the Dutch polders. The city itself rests upon an archipelago of muddy islets, which the main stream of the Menam divides into two groups. That on the right deserves no higher appellation than suburb, for the huts of the common people, gar- dens, and marshes prevail in it. Pagodas and the dwellings of the great are rare. On the left of the river is the city, properly so called, surrounded with crenellated walls, and flanked with towers and bastions, covering a space six miles in circuit. ~~ 2 a H | itt ‘il ! = — : = Ss: VALLEY OF THE IRRAWADDY. 234 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Between the city and the suburb thousands of booths, floating upon rafts, stretch away in two rows, following the windings of the river, which is furthermore encum- bered by countless boats of every size and shape. ‘The busy life and industry going on upon the water is the first thing which catches the traveller’s notice when he enters the Siamese capital. Another strange impression is added to this: there is no sound in all the town of wheels or horses’ feet. For business or for pleasure, one is obliged to take a boat upon the river. Bangkok is an Oriental Venice; everywhere is heard the noise of oars and anchors, the sailor’s song, or the cry of Sepoy boat- men. ‘The river is the great boulevard, and the various canals serve as streets and Royal Audience Hall. Bangkok. lanes. The observer has only choice of two attitudes,— to lean from his balcony, or to glide silently over the water, lying in the bottom of his little craft, and lin- ger with fascinated eye upon the palaces and pagodas that fling aloft, above the eternal verdure of tropical vegetation, their gilded spires, or rear their polished domes and lofty pyramids, carved in open-work cut out delicate as lace, reflecting all the rays of the sun, all the colors of the rainbow, from their crystal and porce- lain veneering. This “Arabian Nights’” architecture, the infinite variety of buildings and costumes, indicating the diversity of nationalities gathered here, the incessant sound of musical instruments and the tumult of scenic representations, produce an effect both novel and pleasing, and without counterpart anywhere in the world. es rok A Go 2 De Ke UTTOT T Ent TSH AL [tts VME geoe sh Cu We pa u otha a: NEES n a Die Se Dcohe PA. ji 3 ful a 2 obs an i Sy rT rh i p MAI f 2 ile my i an SCANT | I hi a baie i rend EA x esti Nina Ot / . t ag Nt i NU tei sae aca aH ge ete i i il ‘ fy Ki = Nig 0 Thee 2 3 Mn Wea Sie DT bessatg: Sn Z i , Ki de OY pes H - ‘ * WN ye Mi Ua Ain NIM A yw 0 ma WA AUT UWA ! il yA I Sg MO ghee a ; Tee Sere |S S IH UA | Eons Pree aca ~ Tint TaN Dyk 4 f . S WAT \ (a ‘ . . i Uy WY Wh Y S \ \ ity My wih My i d 1)) ih wit ion MM AeA EW Wide Nig q 7 i ny NANT, NIX) LNIN YD, AUTOM AeuNy UNUM POT CIPS MALEATE NUM KL AL TSTR 7a Tall ¢| AF LN THT go Ayer x RAIS Wes ANE WS CON Ny NYS \} ty ‘ RYN (04) Og tN WA SBE) NNN OMI Uli dlyo dU a a = \ SS : wl yh AS ly ys POY Ap, NWO 4 Hf Mi hey EEL = SV IN } aN WM WY Y) j SS Y Wij Mi a= LZ 2 Le N Wy f ; LS Z / i S\ NO ait Ui [iid Md i Me — IMPERIAL GARDEN, CHINA. 262 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. s page 259), a truly magnificent marble structure, above the high altar of which are inscribed these words, “'The Chief and Guide of the ten thousand worlds ;” and, lastly, near the centre, there is a mosque (see page 258), erected in the eighteenth century by one of the emperors who had made conquest of a Mussulman prince, and desired to afford him opportunity for observing the rites of his own religion. In the centre of this Mongol half of Peking is a vast walled inclosure, known — as the Yellow City. Within its walls are pagodas of peculiar sacredness, and pal- aces of high dignitaries of the empire. Here also are the Imperial Gardens (page 261), with their great artificial lakes and porcelain tower (page 260), and the hil- lock, two hundred and fifty feet high, believed to be in substance a mass of coal, accumulated by some provident emperor against an expected siege ; lastly, and most important of all, there is a third inclosure, with high walls and a broad moat, and four gates,—the Red City, the sacred abode of Imperial Majesty. The Chinese call it “The Forbidden City.” Its gates are “The Great Purity,” “The Celestial Tran- quillity,” and the like. It contains the palaces of Medium, Sovereign, and Protect- ing Concord. It has a pavilion of Impurpled Splendor, wherein the Orchestra of Universal Peace plays before the Son of Heaven as he sips his tea. Having attained celestial heights of nomenclature like these, it is perhaps well to go no further, lest we find they represent but a semi-barbaric splendor a good deal fallen into decay, and that the Imperial Palace of China contains but little more peace, tranquillity, and concord than does that of Constantinople. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 263 ' is Aap mm i gol IIL SULLA * — ~ ‘ > nf CTT 5 nantly repudiate the idea of -a common origin with the dwellers i in the Flowery Kingdom. Their civilization, in some points Mt identical with the Chinese, in many other respects differs widely Vik from it. Their characters used in writing are the same; the eS = worship of Buddha and of Confucius exists equally in both countries; in Japan and in China the same style of pagoda rears its head, wherein officiate the shaven gray-robed bonzes ; their junks are alike; rice and fish, tea and rice-brandy, are the staples of consumption in Yeddo as much as in Canton; Japanese coolies make the streets of Nangasaki resound with the same piercing, rhythmic cries - as do the coolies of Shanghai; the literature of the archipelago has no national stamp, being borrowed altogether from China ; finally, the head- dress of the Japanese reminds one of that of the Chinese under the early dynasties, anterior to the wearing of the queue. But here the resemblance ends. The Japanese race, haughty and NM noble, military and feudal, differs essentially from the Chinese race, hum- ble and sly, scorning the art of war, and having a gift for trade and commerce. The Japanese knows the meaning of our word “honor”; to deprive him of his sword is an insult only to be wiped out with blood. The Chinese laughs if you 4 .' 264 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. tell him he is a coward, or if you prove to him that he has lied: these are mat- ters of indifference to him. ‘The Chinese race are filthy in their habits; the Japa- nese are of the daintiest neatness. The Japanese has a cheerful disposition, he is intelligent, and eager to learn; the Chinese despises all that lies outside of his own country. All this denotes in the dwellers in the island empire a race superior to that which peoples China; and we are led to believe that the Japanese are an off- shoot of the great Mongol family, owing their presence here to some early immigra- tion by way of the Corea. Whatever may be their origin, no Asiatic race is more interesting, and the mys- tery in which they have been shrouded until within the last twenty years adds per- haps to the eagerness with which the great civilized nations of the west now press through the doors which Commodore Perry’s Expedition, and the famous “treaty of friendship and trade,” first opened in 1854. In many respects it is still difficult fully to understand the Japanese character and habits. The home life of the higher classes is yet carefully secluded from for- eign inspection, but enough is known to show us an amiable, versatile, light-hearted race, neither truly Asiatic, nor yet completely European; but, like the ancient Greeks, forming a link between the two. Of their curious dual government, and the duplicate system to which it has given rise,—a system carried out into almost every detail of existence,— we haye not space here to speak. ‘To understand their language is a matter of extreme difficulty, and no thorough knowledge of a people can exist without an adequate comprehension of its mental ability as displayed in its own liter- ature. It is, however, a curious fact that the J apanese, so reticent in respect to themselves, have from age to age placed upon record their daily lives in the shape of thousands of cleyer sketches, of more or less finish, but all interesting and in- structive from their strongly marked originality, and many of them from the quaint and cynical humor which characterizes their conception. A most fascinating book would be a collection of such sketches, which might be entitled, “The Japanese painted by themselves.” : We present two of these sketches on pages 265 and 267. ‘The first represents a scene from one of the numerous theatres in Yeddo, looking upon the stage across a private box. Theatrical representations are announced every night just before sun- set by an harangue from a staging outside, in which the merits of the piece are set forth, and the public are notified of the names of the performers. As it grows dark the lanterns are lighted and the invitation is given, “Enter, gentlemen! enter, ladies! The performance is about to begin.” The illumination, however, attracts many lin- gerers outside. Two rows of great paper lanterns cross the front of the building. Between them are globes of transparent paper, each containing a wax candle, and around the doors are enormous oblong lanterns throwing light upon placards which ~ + a i | i Hit ! i i Hi - Hl nes ellliint 23 ail N T IE | IAT | CNW UL CED || TD i ‘| Ih CAUCHA RO BUTTERFLY BALLET IN A THEATRE IN YEDDO. set forth the characters and scenes of the play. Some of these placards are the entire 266 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. height of the building, and there are banners higher than the placards. Hach thea- tre has its own armorial bearings reproduced on the lanterns and fiags, and, im gigantic proportions, covering three sides of the building. 7 Within, the best places are in the second gallery, where spacious boxes are arranged in a row, furnished only with the usual Japanese matting by way of seats ; a servant at once brings in tea, cakes, and sweetmeats, also pipes, tobacco, and a little brasier. As long as Japanese actors welcome their audience in this way, they can safely abandon to us the practice of paid applause, nor dread the importation of our ways of expressing disapproval. The performances are in great variety, and last usually till one o’clock in the morning. ‘The exhibitions of Japanese jugglers in the United States, some years ago, will give an idea of their skill in certain directions, and it is not too much to say that, taking into consideration the national character and ideas, the Japanese have no superior in their theatrical representations of whatever kind. The illustration on the opposite page brings us to a mention of the Daimios, the great feudal aristocracy of Japan. Hach of these nobles is practically imdependent of the Tycoon when in his own province, where he has the power of life and death over all his subjects and dependants. ‘To keep some order among this turbulent class, an early Tycoon required them to spend half of every year in his capital of Yeddo, and on their return retained their wives and children as hostages. Thus is explained the enormous extent of the official quarters of the city within a double enclosure of glacis, wall, and moat, and whole streets with moated houses display- ing a frontage of more than a thousand feet. These buildings differ among them- selves only in size, but are all of the same style of architecture and the same sim- plicity. Many of the streets are a hundred feet wide, and the fronts of the houses —that is, the two-storied range of buildings enclosing the court-yard — sometimes extend nearly a quarter of a mile. These buildings are always separated from the street by a small, narrow, and muddy moat, little more than a gutter. ‘They are in form an oblong square, with low, wide, grated windows and doors at regular inter- vals. ‘They are occupied by servants and armed retainers. Within are the seigno- rial residences, and beautiful gardens, while towering shade-trees rise above the roofs and give an air of regal grandeur to the scene. No business is ever seen in this quarter. Armed retainers pace the streets, often with bows and arrows, and with the armorial bearings of their masters embroidered in the back and sleeves of their tunics. At times some Daimio is seen abroad, accompanied by his train, as in the illustra- tion. He rides in a norimon, or Japanese palanquin, —a suspended cage, much like a large baby-house, says Sir Rutherford Alcock, with roof, and side-doors, and cushions, and shelves, and windows. It is suspended from the shoulders of four men, two STREET SCENE IN THE QUARTER OF THE DAIMIOS. “i a y = = ii : 268 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. before and two behind, the bottom of the norimon being about a foot from the ground. The bearers step out at an even steady pace of about three miles an hour. This is the mode of locomotion de rigueur for the great Daimio; he is sometimes followed by two or three led horses, but it must be a very poor noble indeed who demeans himself so far as to be seen on horseback. An armed guard surrounds him, and before him a porter carries a couple of trunks containing a change of clothing, in case he may wish to make some alteration in his toilette during the few hours he will be absent from home. | At the opposite end of the city lie the trading quarters. Here shops of every description, notably those for the sale of porcelain and bronze, as on page 269, abound. Of Japanese art pages might be written merely in opening the subject. As has been well observed by M. du Chesne de Bellecour, in an article in the Revue des Deux Mondes, Japanese taste favors the rare and elegant, rather than the sumptu- — ous. Nowhere, unless perhaps on the diadems of the Mikado and the Kisaki, is there lavish display of gold and precious stones. The grandees of the empire take pride in the antiquity of their possessions. Nothing is so precious in their eyes as an assorted service of old cracked porcelain, or vases of antique bronze, heavy, mas- sive, black, and polished as marble, or furniture and utensils of that old gold-powdered lacquer known as salvocat. The great bronze vases of modern Japanese work are perhaps the most perfect of all their artistic achievements. They are often five feet high; some are of a beautiful yellow almost as brilliant as gold ; upon these is a great display of ornaments in relief, mostly mythological subjects: others, more seyere in style, exhibit upon a plain, smooth, black surface light designs of flowers, birds, and arabesques, in silver thread beaten into the bronze with a hammer. The only rivals. in elegance to these beautiful black bronze vases with their niello-work of silver, are their porcelain vases, light-gray or sea-green in color, ornamented with fine painting of which the delicate touch and harmonious tints have an indescribable charm. A few words must be said of the Japanese religion, which is represented in its two great phases,—the worship of ancestors, by the illustration of the Temple of Hatchiman, on page 270; and the Buddhist worship, by the Temple at Kawasaki, represented in the head-piece to Japan, and in part, on a larger scale, on page 271. The former is evidently the earlier faith of the country, and seems to have been originally a commemoration of certain great men and early heroes, to whom the country was much indebted, but of scarcely any religious import. Later it grew to be a form of worship, and has curiously blended with the Buddhism borrowed from China and India. Buddhism is a flexible, conciliating, insinuating system, and knew how to accommodate itself to the Japanese mind. On their first entrance into Japan, the bonzes succeeded in obtaining the guardianship of the shrines and little chapels of the earlier faith, and built around them sanctuaries of their own. They readily a INI Ith JAPANESE BAZAAR. 270 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. added to their own ceremonies symbols borrowed from the national religion; finally, the better to mingle the two forms of worship, they introduced into their temples Japanese idols, invested with titles and attributes of Hindoo divinities, and Hindoo divinities transformed into Japanese. There was nothing inadmissible in these changes, TM + all LAR iia cenit gym meth nt i — aii fom iii ; A ? : i | : / : : : : — : iD mpm | i) ‘ ja : Me Pom ‘oul at lee MC aa ue i ae SS55525: FN = jit AN 43 | I Ly. . : : = ge 3) i Ml iT Thy THe i! 7 = Hifiieeasees er i Ti ry % y Mi ADUJUN LON ALAT EE UU = poumiig I 1 ANT a = =). A = - AN AU AW Mssycll ; WL Al aM | eed ee at ae ii UC = AN i i ‘a | i th a in! f i u Temple of Hatchiman. naturally explicable by the doctrine of transmigration, and, thanks to this combina- tion, to which has been given the name of Rioboo Sintoo, Buddhism is now the dominant religion of Japan. Our last illustration (page 273) represents the entrance to the residence of the oa ia TRIMMINIIN NU Yas = pauls i i Eom st ‘ ING maT se oN ea : a hi " i v = Oy) 7 BELFRY OF BUDDHIST TEMPL E. 272 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS: Py English legation in Japan. Of what is to be seen within this portal Sir Rutherford Alcock’s own description will be most appropriate. This gentleman arrived in Yeddo in 1859, as her Majesty’s envoy-extraordinary, and at once requested a residence to be assigned him. A choice was offered of two or three buildings which had served as” temples, and of these the selection was made of the Tozengee, one of the largest and best-endowed in Yeddo. “During our walk,” says the envoy, “I had been assured there was no finer site or grounds in the city, and that it had been specially des- tined for the British representative. On turning off the Tocado (as the great. high- road through the island is called, and which skirts the bay here), we passed through a gate giving entrance to a long avenue of cryptomeras and pines; then through a sec-— ond more imposing gateway of two stories across an open square with lotus ponds and trees on each side; and finally, by an entrance to the right, through another court-yard, and gained a fine suite of apartments looking on to as beautiful a specimen of Japa- nese garden and grounds as can well be conceived. A lawn was immediately in front; beyond, a little lake, across which was a rustic bridge; and beyond this again, palm- trees and azalias, large bushes trimly cropped into the semblance of round hillocks; while the background was filled up with a noble screen of timber composed of the finest of all Japanese trees, — the evergreen, oak, and the maple. Palms and bam- boos were interspersed, and a drooping plum-tree was trained over one end of the rustic bridge giving passage across the lake. ‘To the right, a steep bank shut in the view, covered equally with a great variety of flowering shrubs and the ground- bamboo, and crowned with more of the same timber. Through this a path led up- ward by a zigzag flight of steps to a fine avenue of trees, the end of which wid- ened into a platform, whence a wide view of the bay and part of the city below could be obtained with a perfectly scenic effect. The distant view was set in a framework of foliage, formed by the branches and trunks of pine-trees, towering from fifty to a hundred feet high into the blue sky above. From the end of the ave- nue, through which a mid-day sun could only pour a chequered arabesque of light and shade, the bay stretched far away a thousand feet below, basking in the full glare of sunshine, and making the deep, cool shade of the terrace, with its thick screen of green leaves, all the more enjoyable by contrast.” Not a corner, however, of this delightful habitation but was destined later to have its sinister memories. The foot of the flagstaff was reddened with the Japa- nese linguist’s blood, on the 29th of January, 1860 ; the main entrance, the court, the temple, the second story of the legation, became, in the night attack of July, 1861, the scene of a frightful struggle, which left five dead upon the floor and eighteen wounded ; finally, upon the veranda on the garden side, fell, a year later, two Hng- lish marines, after having fatally wounded one of their assassins. In consequence of these events, all the foreign representatives in Japan demanded SS Sees see ee ee alicia vail —— eee ee VW) Vy yt Uf Yy 0 ha Oia ate ye EH l AUTO EAAIINA Rectir To CT mi hy ( re =a Tor aint ENGLISH LEGATION. 274 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. + and obtained from the Tycoon the concession of a quarter in which they could unite — all the legations, put themselves in a state of defence, and insure a communication with the ships of war of their respective countries. A public garden of great size, called Goten Yama, was assigned for this purpose. Acres of peach-trees in flower were cut down, and great clumps of cedars fell under the axe. The pleasure resort of the populace was destroyed, and all was prepared for the new buildings. But no sooner had the British legation been completed, with its imposing facade, its elegant galleries, and picturesque roofs, than the hand of an _ incendiary laid it in ashes. Warned by this event, the other legations were abandoned, and the representatives of European powers in Japan withdrew their residence to Yokohama. In common prose, the Japanese call their country Nipon; in poetry, it is “The Empire of the Rising Sun.” The archipelago consists of four large islands, and a crowd of lesser ones. The whole region is the theatre of frequent and violent earth- quakes ; hence, all the houses are wooden, and but one story in height. At Yeddo, however, there are city walls and gates of Cyclopean construction, consisting of enor- mous blocks of rough stone, fitted into one another. Many volcanoes are still in ebul- lition, but Fusi-yama, the highest mountain in Japan, more than eleven thousand feet in height, is now extinct. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 275 mM wise, will postpone for a few weeks his arrival at the Golden Gate, and very gladly allow himself time to linger in that beautiful half- way house between Japan and California, officially known to all the world as the Hawaiian Islands, — popularly still bearing, and ‘kely ever to bear, the name of Lord Sandwich. Twenty miles away, when the air is clear, Oahu is discern- ible, a group of gray, barren peaks rising out of the lonely sea. Ap- proaching nearer, the island reveals its tropical beauty ; the lofty peaks, gray and red, are cleft by deep chasms and ravines, filled with cool shadow and luxuriant vegetation; the coast is fringed by the feathery cocoanut-tree, and marked by a waving line of surf; and Honolulu shows its picturesque dwellings, nestling on the soft green turf, under their palms and bananas, their umbrella-trees and bread-fruits, their oranges, mangoes, hibiscus, and passion-flowers. Passing through a narrow winding passage of deep-blue water, the surf running white over the coral reefs on both sides, we moor in the harbor, amid American and English vessels, and countless canoes filled with natives. Oahu is divided by a lofty volcanic ridge, stretching from the north-west to the 276 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. | 4 south-east extremity of the island, and separating the two sections completely from each other, except at a single point, the Pali, or precipice, of Nuuanu (page 275). This Pali is at the height of a thousand feet above the sea, and above it tower the hills, _ wall-like ridges of gray rock, rising precipitously out of the trees and grass, and broken up into pinnacles and needles. From the edge of the precipice we look down upon a vast plain, with clusters of palms and white houses; beyond is the coral reef, and the wavy line of surf, while away to the horizon stretches the broad blue sea, ruffled by a fresh breeze. ew The islands are twelve in number, but only eight are inhabited, and of these Oahu and Hawaii are the most important. The latter is the largest of the group, being eighty-eight miles long and seventy-three broad. ‘The whole formation is volcanic; but in Hawaii the igneous structure is most marked, reaching its climax in two great volcanoes, nearly fourteen thousand feet in height,—the one extinct, Mouna Kea, the other, Mouna Loa, in a state of incessant activity. Very few persons have made the ascent of Mouna Loa, but to those who have reached its summit is revealed a vision of wonder and grandeur which has no par- allel in the world. ‘This magnificent snow-covered dome, whose base is sixty miles in diameter, is crowned by a ghastly volcanic table-land, creviced, riven, and ashy, twenty-four miles in circumference. Across this the traveller makes his way over strange masses of lava, across chasms and around ledges, to the edge of the sum- mit crater, a region of inaccessible blackness and horror, six miles in circumference, and more than eight hundred feet in depth. At times this crater is inactive for weeks, and then breaks out with fire and lava-streams, and clouds of black smoke, trailing out thirty miles over the sea. At a height of four thousand feet upon the side of the great mountain is the - crater of Kilauea, a comparatively easy ascent of thirty miles from Hilo. This crater has the effect of a great pit in a rolling plaim, and the traveller approaching finds himself unawares upon its very brink, just as he is beginning to doubt if he shall ever reach it. Kilauea is nine miles in circumference, and its lowest area covers six square miles. The depth of the crater varies from eight hundred to eleven hun- — dred feet in different years, according as the molten sea below is at ebb or flood. Signs of volcanic activity exist all through it and for some distance around its margin, in the form of steam-cracks, jets of sulphurous vapor, blowing cones, and deposits of sulphur, and the pit is constantly rent and shaken by earthquakes. But in a lake in the southern part of the crater (see page 277), the most marvellous phenomena are constantly visible. To reach this lake three miles within the actual crater, the traveller must descend the terminal wall, which is very precipitous, and then a second slope, thickly covered with flowering plants and ferns of great beauty, and then a third of rough blocks and ridges of broken lava, and so arrive at the lowest level IVoly Tisi- dO aa LY uo 278 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. of the crater, presenting from above the appearance of a sea at rest, but found to be an expanse of waves and conyolutions of ashy-colored lava, with huge cracks filled up with black iridescent rolls that were molten stone but a few weeks earlier. Parts are very rough and ridgy, but most of the area presents the appearance of monstrous coiled hawsers, the ropy formation of the lava rendering the illusion almost perfect. All this is riven by cracks emitting hot sulphurous vapor. Beyond, comes a ridge of lava, like the rim of a bowl, four hundred feet high, most difficult of ascent ; and then the fiery lake lies revealed. It is perhaps five hundred feet wide ee Waves of Fire. at its narrowest part, and half a mile at its broadest, with craggy sides of lava. To describe it seems impossible ; the prominent object is fire in motion, but its surface continually skims over with a cool crust of a lustrous grayish-white, like frosted silver broken by jagged cracks of bright rose-color. The movement is from the sides towards the centre, but the central movement seems distinct, and always directs itself towards the south. All around the edge of the lake play fountains of fire, leaping, dancing, whirling together, merging into one glowing mass, which upheayes itself pyramidally, then disappears with a tremendous plunge, to form anew and again disappear. <- ATT ifn Ny == S== == ] | | i} HT 1 AAA WN AA } | | | — il | Mii MI HAUT i ii LAVA STREAM. 280 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. At times two huge waves (page 278), rising from opposite sides, move slowly towards each other, gaining in height as they advauce. Rearing their crests twenty feet above the level of the lake, they meet. The sound and shock is indescribable. They form a whirling pyramid of fire sixty feet high, scattering fiery spray in every direc- tion, then sink and disappear, and the grayish-white scum forms again over the lake. One most momentous effect of volcanic action in the Hawaiian Islands is the flow of lava, devastating the beautiful and fertile regions around the mountains. Some of these streams have been of extraordinary extent and volume, sweeping away farms and herds of cattle, and even villages in their course (page 279). In April, 1868, the most tremendous outflow of lava known in Hawaiian history took place. There had been earthquakes and threatenings from the volcano, and all minds were anxious as to the event, when, without a moment’s warning, the ground south of Hilo burst open with a crash and roar. A molten river emerged through a fissure two miles long, with tremendous force and volume. Four huge fountains of fire boiled up, throwing lava and rocks of many tons’ weight to a height of from five hundred to a thousand feet. From these great fountains flowed to the sea a rapid stream of red lava, rolling, rushing, tumbling, like a swollen river, bearing along _large rocks that made the lava foam as it dashed down the precipice and through the valley into the sea, surging and roaring throughout its length like a cataract, with a power and fury perfectly indescribable. It was nothing less than a river of fire, from two hundred to eight hundred feet wide and twenty deep, with a speed varying from ten to twenty-five miles an hour. Thus were lost four thousand acres of valuable pasture land, and a much larger quantity of magnificent forest. * i y a TeSAVE SVS od SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 281 —, AN FRANCISCO owes its origin to Roman Catholic missionaries and Spanish soldiers, its site beimg first permanently occupied by a gar- rison and a mission in 1776. For nearly sixty years the mission remained the centre of a rude little village of adobe huts, haying a population varying from a hundred and fifty to four hundred, Indians, Mexicans, and Spanish. In 1835, the first pioneer dwelling was erected, and in the following year the first frame-house. In 1847, the town contained seventy-nine buildings, which by March, 1848, had increased in number to two hundred, with a population of eight hundred and fifty. On New Year’s day, 1849, the town numbered two thousand inhabitants, and its streets were full of the early miners, with their nug- gets and their bags of “ dust.” >) At this day, San Francisco stands, not. merely the chief city of Cal- TaN . ifornia, but the ereat commercial metropolis of the Pacific slope ; a city SG) with endless quays and docks, visited by the flags of every nation from A England to China; a city of banks, hotels, shops, mining companies, agri- cultural exhibitions, and private houses, the most sumptuous in the world; a city of learned professors, eminent doctors, clever journalists, distinguished lawyers ; a city, also, of gamblers, adventuresses, vagabonds, and thieves ; a rendezyous of all nations, a Tower of Babel, where all languages are spoken, from English to Malay, Tartar, 282 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. . and Celtic. Upon the whole, a charming city, an incomparable situation, dazzling atmospheric effects, a picturesque aspect. The natural surface is very uneven, and by its diversity of level gives relief to the buildings. The site of the city was a line of sandy beach, salt marsh, and mud flats, varied by narrow ravines, small shallow valleys, and sandy knolls, with stretches of close. adobe soil; rocky bluffs fortified its extremities, while extensive ledges lay back of it. The original founders of San Francisco could have had no reason to suspect that they were laying out a grand metropolis, and hence what- ever they projected was done with the least possible regard to symmetry or the demands of future growth. Not one important street conforms its course to the The Grand Hotel at San Francisco. cardinal points of the compass, and but one main avenue, Market Street, is wide enough. In its buildings, San Francisco shows every grade, from the stately elegance of the Grand Hotel, to the curious squalor of the Chinese quarter. The hotel stands on Market Street, occupying the whole block from New Montgomery to Second Street, with a frontage to the north of two hundred and five feet, and to the west of three hundred and thirty-five, thus covering more than an acre and a half of ground, and its four hundred rooms have all the luxury in furniture and decora- tion that the highest civilization can devise. What the Chinese quarter is it is not so easy to say. Only the pen of a Dickens could do justice to a theme like this. Seen from the street, the shops and stalls are quaint and Asiatic enough, but to SN SSS SSS SS S SS WSs SS CHINESE QUARTER IN SAN FRANCISCO. 284 VOYAGES AND TRAVESS: him who, under the guidance of a police officer, penetrates by day or night into the rickety, tumble-down, vermin-haunted hives which rise through four or five stories, all alive with swarming lazzaroni, what untold horrors are revealed ! But let us turn from the great city, with its splendor and its misery, to where, two hundred miles away, the wonderful Yosemite Valley woos the traveller to repose amid all the grandeur and loveliness of primitive nature. On page 285 is represented the valley, seen from one of those points of view at the western entrance which command the whole gigantic cleft. At the left rises the square bulk of “ Hl Capitan,” an immense granite cliff, projecting angularly into the valley, and having The Cathedral. two fronts, one facing nearly west, the other south-easterly, meeting in a sub-acute angle. These two fronts are over a mile long and three thousand three hundred feet high, smooth, bare, and vertical, ending at the top with a sharp edge. The State Survey says of this cliff: “El Capitan imposes upon us by its stupendous bulk, which seems as if hewed from the mountains on purpose to stand as the type of eternal massiveness. It is doubtful if anywhere in the world there is presented so squarely cut, so lofty, and so imposing a face of rock.” Behind El Capitan the North Dome lifts its rounded granite bulk three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above the valley. Seen nearer, it looks as if built of huge, concentric, over- Ly mn Wy UY ea Y Orem: ] LoHE YOSEMITE. VALLE y: 286 VOYAGES AND TRAV ET. lapping hemispherical domes piled one upon another, and having their overlapping edges irregularly broken away. Towards the south and south-east it is so steep that no human foot has ever climbed it. On the north and west, however, it falls away in a great ridge, or spine, by which one can easily gain the very summit of the dome itself. On the right, opposite El Capitan, is the famous cascade called the Bridal Veil. 8 i \\ NN \\ \ \ Nevada Fall. For six hundred and thirty feet the stream, which is sixty-five feet wide at the edge of the cliff, leaps over it in one unbroken fall. Thence it rushes down the steep slope of broken rocks in a confusion of intermingled cascades, for nearly three hundred feet more. The varying pressure of the wind causes a veil-like wavering, swaying, and flut- tering in the sheet of falling water, which has made the name appropriate. Half a mile Na Pagal i GIANT TREES OF CALIFORNIA. 288 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. further the cliff rounds outward, and swells up into an enormous double rocky bastion, the Cathedral Rocks (page 284). From certain points of view, a resemblance is fancied to exist between these cliffs and some yast, dilapidated Gothic structure. A little more than two miles east of the Cathedral is the huge Sentinel Dome, one of the most regularly formed of all the peculiar dome-like peaks about the valley, and beyond the Sentinel rises clear and sharp against the sky Yosemite’s loftiest isolated cliff, the Half Dome. This is a bare crest of naked granite, four thousand seyen hundred and forty feet high, cleft straight down in one huge vertical front on the north-west side, while The Garden of the Gods. towards the south-east it rounds away in a vast slope, rendering it, like the North Dome, easily accessible to the traveller. ~The Yosemite Valley is seven miles long, and for every mile it has its waterfall. At the very extremity of the cafion, at a point where the rocky walls almost close together, the main river enters the valley with one leap of seven hundred feet, making the Nevada Fall (page 286). In purity and volume of water, and in a thousand graceful peculiarities, this fall surpasses all the others in the valley, and with it we take our last look at the Yosemite. No sketch of California, however brief, can pass by its Big Trees, the Sequoia cae i= - SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 289 gigantea, a kind of redwood, of which nine groves are already known to exist, while the exploration of the state constantly adds to their number. Of these the most celebrated are the Calaveras and the Mariposa Groves, the former containing the tallest Sequoia now standing, called the Keystone State, which reaches a height of three hundred and twenty-five feet. The fashion of naming these trees is amus- ingly illustrated in the case of the three shown in the illustration, which have been called “The Three Graces.” They are about two hundred and seventy feet high, and would overtop Trinity Church in New York. At one time it was believed that the Sequoia belonged to some past geological or botanical epoch, but this idea is now abandoned, since it has been discovered that there are multitudes of infant giants of ite ae es — = ——. —< eS = SS = = : Long’s Peak. 1° this race scattered throughout the forests of the Sierra, of all sizes, from the seedling upwards. From the Forest of the Giants to the Garden of the Gods (page 288) is but an easy flight for the imagination, although it be many a long league by the road. The Garden of the Gods is in the valley of a small stream called Monument Creek, which lies along the base of the mountains north of Colorado City. Ages of atmos- pheric work and running water have worn the rocks through which the little river has made its way into wonderful and fantastic shapes, — towers and _ bastions, battle- . . % s > 2 ? - mented summits and half-buried columns. What is called ‘the Garden widens suddenly from a natrow gorge into a beautiful valley a mile and a half long and half a mile broad. At its southern end the mountains again approach each other as 290 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. if to form a gateway, in front of which rise huge masses of rock, walls, gigantic statues, and strange, grotesque shapes in stone. Within, as if in some palace garden of the Old World, are velvet lawns, —tall, stately pines and oaks, the growth of centuries, — masses of shrubbery, and a bDrilliant display of flowers, the native growth of this favored land. Amid this green luxuriance stand well-rounded columns of stone, and wonderful resemblances to figures of men, and birds, and animals. These pillars are of every variety. of color, — gray, white, red, black, and blue, and rise to a height of two and three hundred feet. A singular freak of nature is a gigantic stone eagle, which it is hardly possible not to believe the work of the chisel, perched upon a column two hundred and fifty feet high. The impressive character of this solitary place is beyond description. The murmur of the water, the sighing of the- trees, the towering majesty of the stone. columns and figures, the grandeur of the encircling mountains, and over all, the illimitable blue sky, unite in an effect which no language can render. | Further to the north in the same state, seen from a hundred miles away, Long’s Peak, with its attendant mountains, rises against the sky, reaching at its highest point an altitude of 14,056 feet. It is needless to add to the illustration (page 289) which represents this scene, except to suggest the coloring: in the foreground the intense green of the prairie, blending into the black granite of the nearer hills, and over and above these, massed higher and yet higher, in billowy confusion, the sharp white peaks clad in perpetual snow. Indescribable varieties of shade and color are produced in this range by the sun, in his passage across the sky. In the morn- ing they are veiled in mist; under the strong light of noon they are luminous and distinct ; at sunset they soften and take hues of rose and violet, and at twilight they stand out black and clear against the red sky. Late in the afternoon, too, the sun- light, striking into the huge valleys, reveals their width, and gives some idea of the great spaces between the outer heights, and the remoter, snow-crowned peaks which top the ridge. Another scene from this wonderland of mountain and river is represented in the steel engraving facing this page. An ingenious theory has been advanced to account for the singular forms of these cliffs, which, if true, equally explains the strange rock-configuration of the Garden of the Gods. The high winds and blowing sands and sharp rains of this region, acting upon the soft rock and clay of these hills, are believed to have shaped them into the forms we now wonder at. The share which the high winds, and the sand they take up and blow with great force in right lines, in curves, and in whirls, has had in this great work, both in its fantasies and in its destructions, is such as can hardly be realized by those who have not wit- nessed these atmospheric phenomena. Sand showers and sand whirlwinds are of almost daily occurrence. They load the air with sand, they carry it everywhere, — among Pr hie ' : y : Tha ae (72 red; 9 “ty oe me | fe 4 eae / 4 Fi : ; , A ' - s) ne ‘. 4 ; "ts , ey , i = > .' - j u ‘ { | i ’ ‘ ( * r 5 - a { * aa t- 2 '- 5 J ' * , ‘ ' rw) ¥ 3 Ul * ts x, ne se 7 ‘ ; - ' fils y ‘) i e ‘ye hed Ob aris ta “AX iy #2) WwW JER YES = « rs . . SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 291 rocks, into houses, through walls; and there keep it at its work of destruction and reconstruction. In a house among these mountains there is a window that one sin- gle storm of this sort has changed from common glass into the most perfect of ground glass; and the fantastic architecture this agent has created among the rocks of the country, from the North Platte to Fort Bridger, can only be understood and appreciated by being seen. “The tall, isolated rocks,” says Meline, “that surmount a hill, sometimes round, but always even and smooth as the work of the finest chisel ; the immense columns and fantastic figures upon the walls of rock that line a valley for miles; the soli- tary mountains upon the plain, fashioned like fortresses, or rising like Gothic cathe- drals; the long lines of rock embankment one above another, formed sometimes into squares like a vast fort, and again running along for miles, a hundred feet above the valley, looking like the most perfect of railway embankments, with the open space occasionally for a watercourse: these, and kindred original fashions of nature, with details indescribable and picturesque, are a constant excitement and inspiration to the traveller.” ; The color of the clays and conglomerates of which these and similar cliffs are composed, adds greatly to their picturesque effect. They are often dyed, by the presence of iron, copper, and sulphur, into brilliant and startling combinations of colors, sometimes beautifully blended, sometimes opposed, with that glaring contra- diction to the laws of man of which nature is so fond, and in which she succeeds so perfectly. Hyery shade of yellow is represented, from a delicate cream-color to a glaring saffron ; bright reds and scarlets, and intense purples, shading off into black, are relieved by occasional patches of vivid verdure, or by the more sombre green of the few daring pine-trees that cling to the cliff. Besides the soft conglomerates which compose these cliffs there are, also, the hard basaltic rocks which underlie the clay, breaking through in sharp lines and crests, and adding the variety of their abrupt outlines to the softened and rounded forms which elsewhere prevail. Next neighbor on the north to our own Pacific States, the territory of British Columbia has recently attracted so much attention from its gold-fields, that it must not be passed by without mention. Its area is about two hundred thousand square miles, with a coast -line of four hundred and fifty miles. Its shore abounds with inlets, navigable by steamers and sailing-vessels of moderate draft, and affords ad- mirable communication with the settlements springing up in the interior. From Victoria on Vancouver Island a line of steamers runs across the Gulf of Georgia, and conveys passengers and freight as far as the head of navigation on the Lower Fraser. Thence, amid a thousand difficulties, the road climbs to the mining 292 VOVAGES\ ANDVIRAVAES, regions beyond. Below is represented one of the passes in the mountains. The officer in charge of the government exploring party describes it thus : — “The trail at first runs up the backbone of a singular spur, winding further up among crumbling fragments of rocks, and finally reaching by a dizzy path the summit of a perpendicular wall which crowns the mass. The cliff is composed of blocks of columnar basalt in the shape of multangular prisms, averaging in their Road in British Columbia. aa perfect state about two cubic feet in size, usually stained of a dull red color, and somewhat vesicular. The blocks are fixed together as perfectly as if by human agency, and the layers are horizontal. ‘Thus on the summit, which is perfectly level, patches are met with in which, the scant soil having been washed away, the jointing of these singular stones, almost resembling mosaic pavement, is clearly visible, and towards ry @ 1 A TI un i at ‘N ie ] " \ 4 COLUMBIA. FOREST IN BRITISH ‘WW I A ie ee £ Van Nery pt Uy Up he fh aN wil s \ is 7 Mle i, gu Ae LAAN i i Ms ui ie ‘ 294 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the edge of the cliff large portions of the rock have crumbled away, leaving stand- ing, in many places, abrupt columnar masses as much as fifty feet in height.” The whole country is overgrown with forests, of whose magnitude it is impos- % sible to form any estimate. (See page 293.) The cedar, hemlock, and pine attain” a growth rivalling the Sequoia of the more southern coast. Ascending the Fraser, the traveller is filled with wonder and admiration at the woods which line both shores. Varieties of pine, firs of prodigious size, and enormous poplar-trees, predominate. The vine and the soft maple, the wild apple-tree, the white and black thorn, and deciduous bushes in great variety, form the massive undergrowth. The vegetation is’ luxuriant to an inconceivable degree, and in early summer presents a peculiarly beau- tiful appearance. The eye never tires of ranging over the varied shades of the fresh ee PE E.Mevse Jesuit College. Santa Clara. green foliage, mingled with the white flowers of the wild apple, which fill the air with delicious fragrance ; and the mind looks forward with regret to the prospect that this beautiful forest must some day fall before the emigrant’s axe. With the Roman Catholic missionaries who founded San Francisco, our chapter began, and it closes with two illustrations representing, the one, their College at Santa Clara, given above, and the other, the early mission buildings erected by them at Monterey, which we present on the opposite page. Santa Clara, a few miles south of San Francisco, was the original centre of the Franciscan mission, and it is now the seat of a Jesuit College which draws stu- dents from all the Pacific States. Sheltered amid groves of oaks and cedars, over-. looking the ocean, and defended by high mountains from the violence of the winds, the establishment of Santa Clara, by its situation and by the landscape which sur- rounds it, would offer an inexpressible attraction to him who seeks a poetic home, *, wi ee eS ae eee ok ' wwe te Pe oF |= ‘ 2 | SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 295 far from the world and its sordid cares. Here the Franciscans made their head- quarters, and hence, in every direction, at the close of the last century, they car- ried on their work of civilizing and Christianizing the Indians. Working amid many difficulties, they had, however, accomplished much good, when they were driven out MIAN co, AN oy sity a = a, = ae = i = = Tess S. are es 7 Da CS tt Ty \Y iY My y SS i t —— on \ ‘ Lean HT NY The iY ] i eal WAAC : lj \ ( {| Uy : 5 i, \ Ss SSS —— == \ SSS SSS NIM TY Mission. Monterey. by the Mexicans, and their system destroyed. Years after came the Jesuits, and directing their labors to an entirely different end, worked with no less energy and patience. Their establishment now numbers forty priests and nineteen lay-brothers ; it has about two hundred students; its library contains twelve thousand volumes. i i | 296 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. It is worth while to note in passing that it was a Jesuit who planted the first. vineyard in Santa Clara, and established the first wine-press in California. OF all Californian wines at this day, that of the Mission is the one most esteemed by con- noisseurs. Santa Clara is an American city, full of Anglo-Saxon life; Monterey, on the contrary, is all Spanish and Indian. In Monterey men boast of their ancestry, and put on airs of being old Castilians. The Franciscan mission at Monterey had the same history as that of Santa Clara, and shares in the same decay. Only the old cloisters yet stand, and imagination peoples them still with venerable figures in the traditional dress of their order, read- ing their breviaries, or pacing up and down in solitary meditation, quite unmindful that but a few miles away are the stir and uproar, the money-making, the extravagance and luxury, the crime, — in a word, the modern American life, of the great city which bears the name of their patron saint. ———— SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 297 ff Hy " wii N Good Friday, the 21st of April, 1519, Cortez, the Spanish con- queror, landed upon the coast of Mexico. The spot where he Glee) touched ground received from him the name of Vera Cruz, the “ City of the True Cross,” in honor of the day, although it was not till the close of the century that anything like a town really =e" (aileelco) existed there, and it received its city charter only as early as 1615. “ Approaching Vera Cruz from the landward side, as represented in A Y, IN the illustration (page 299), the white walls, the domes and towers of the wee city, appear in silhouette over a line of sandy hillocks known as Medanos. ©) Here and there a few white houses with flat roofs, shaded by palm- and D GC f banana-trees, mark an oasis in the midst of the arid, or else marshy ap ' desert which stretches around the town. In the horizon shines and a sparkles the sea. As we approach, the line of ramparts, with their bas- M tions and their curtains, becomes distinct; entering the city, the traveller ; is pleased with the air of opulence which prevails, the broad and well- : paved streets, and the extensive and elegant houses. Many of the dwell- ings are richly decorated; there are balconies covered with delicately-arched galleries supported by graceful colonnettes ; there are gargoyles worthy of a Gothic cathedral ; there are bas-reliefs in endless variety. A singular feature of the streets of Vera Cruz is the presence of multitudes of small black vultures, which serve as city scayen- gers, and in consideration of these services enjoy complete immunity from molesta- tion of every kind. By night they perch on the cornices of dwelling-houses and on the tops of the public buildings. From the windows of his hotel the traveller sees q them, at twilight, flying in crowds towards the cupola of the cathedral and the tower 298 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. of the government house, where they establish themselves for the night, sitting in long black rows which are irresistibly comic to behold. Opposite the city, about half a mile out to sea, stands the Castle of San Juan de Ulloa, on an islet of coral formation. The castle is an irregular parallelogram with four bastions, one of which bears a light-house, and another the ruins of a tower, partly destroyed in 1838, at the time of the French bombardment. All this fortification, as well as the walls and public buildings and most of the houses of Vera Cruz, are built of a kind of madrepore, the only stone found in the neigh- borhood. Only the curtain of San Fernando, which looks towards the city, is of hard stone, brought from Spain, it is said, a little at a time, in merchant-ships upon which the duty was made obligatory of transporting each a certain number of hewn stones. The city of Mexico is, without question, the finest in the republic. The houses are usually three stories in height, and built in so liberal fashion that it would be easy to make two stories out of one, and a whole suite out of each separate room. They are painted in rather crude tints; yellow, for the most part, predominates. Here, also, are gargoyles of much character, and beautiful iron-work adorns the bal- conies and the lower windows. « The streets are well paved and have good side- walks, and are crowded all day long by a population who seem to have little else to do but to amuse themselves in the open air. Sixty churches and forty convents, with all their personnel of priests, monks, and nuns, — gray, black, white, and blue, — give a strongly marked character to the city. A pretty custom prevails in Mexico, full of the perfume of past ages. At six every evening rings the Oracion, the Angelus; all the inhabitants stand _ still, uncover their heads, and wish one another buena noche. In-doorg the same scene occurs, and in the fields all the farm servants gather at the sound to kiss the mas- ter’s hand. The Convent of La Mercia (page 300) is an immense building, in other respects not remarkable, but containing in its cloister the most exquisite instance of Moorish architecture in the city of Mexico. Situated as it is in the very heart of a popu- lous quarter, this cloister, in its silence and solitude, forms an impressive contrast with the bustle and noise outside. An incomparable sadness prevails within its walls. Now and then an aguador comes to fill his water-jars at the little fountain in the centre of the paved court, and the quaint garments of the nuns flutter as they walk under the arches, or a group of tourists invade the solitude, involuntarily hushing their noisy chatter ; but more frequently not a living creature is to be seen in the immense galleries, and not a sound can be heard save the drip of the fountain, and the dulled roar of the city, coming in from over the roofs which surround the enclosure. , FARRSTO Maa (Coa. Ss = ae eae Ss SSS at MWS EE = = 2 = = Nl Af, ey Se” AD Ny}; 300 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The Alameda (page 301) is the finest of all the public parks in the city. It contains many beautiful gardens which would be an ornament to the cities of the Old World. Founded in 1592, it was planted with poplars and willows that had grown to magnificent size, when, in 1730, a traveller counted some four thousand of them. At the present day this park is well kept as regards walls, and avenues, and fountains, and gardens, but many of its trees have disappeared. It contains, however, enough shade to make it an agreeable resort, where children play and the idle loiterer sits with his book. i, (I Convent of La Mercia. A favorite excursion from the city of Mexico leads to the Castle of Chapulte- pec (page 302). An oasis of green, Chapultepec, the little hillock, two hundred feet high, rises amid the valley, surrounded with running water and covered with splen- did vegetation. Magnificent cypresses, whose trunks are seventy-five or eighty feet in circumference, rear their leafy heads, defying the passage of centuries to abate from their vigor and luxuriance. Chapultepec is one of the most ancient historic places in the republic. In the eighth century, according to old chronicles, the hill was already occupied by a pop- ulation remarkable for their industry and civilization. For many centuries it was held by the nomad people from the north till the Mexican hosts nossessed themselves of — s 7 * ¢ , SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 301 it. Chapultepec then became a sort of shrine to which pilgrimages were made; and as popular devotion cooled, the Aztec kings made an historic museum of it, until in the time of Montezuma II. it served as the imperial residence. The modern castle, built by the Viceroy Matias de Galvez, was transformed in 1841 into a_ military school, and more recently Miramon, having restored it, made the castle his residence. A. journey of a few miles to the east of the city of Mexico brings the traveller to the half ruined village of Tlalmanalco. In the midst of the cemetery, near the mod- ern church, rise the superb arches (see page 304) whose construction dates back to The Alameda. the first years of the Conquest. -These ruins, according to M. Laverriére, are the remains of a monastery of the Franciscans, left by them unfinished. The architecture of these arches is truly remarkable, and the form of the col- umns, the capitals, and the carvings, suggest the Moorish, the Gothic, and the Renaissance ; while the leading conception is Spanish, reminding one of the Alham- bra, and the ornamentation has the true Mexican stamp,—rich, capricious, fantastic, and in part symbolic. The ruims of Tlalmanalco are unique in their kind, and it 302 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. is not, perhaps, too much to say that there is nothing in Mexico to be compared with them in value and interest to the student of architecture. A. reminiscence of the original inhabitants of the country is found in the Float- ing Gardens represented on page 303, an industry of prehistoric date, now turned to the purpose of supplying the city of Mexico with vegetables and flowers. The population of Santa Anita and Ixtacalco, two pretty little villages near the city, is composed exclusively of Indians, a simple folk, scarcely changed in any respect from the condition of their forefathers at the time of the conquest. They are all land- owners, but their estates are little garden-plots destined to float upon the lake, and io lay out these gardens requires long preliminary labor. Before planting their flow- ers, they must prepare a sort of raft, made of layers of reeds and rushes, and it is not till this has been well constructed, and compacted by time, that the fertile soil Castle of Chapultepec. is brought in baskets and by slow degrees packed upon this foundation, fragile yet durable. At certain times of the year nothing is more beautiful than these gardens, filled with all the floral splendor of Europe, to which are added wonderful varieties of native growth. From the avails of these chinampas the Indians of the two villages live in great comfort. To cultivate them is an easy task, and to tow them about over the surface of the lake requires strength, but little industry. A strong rope and a canoe with sturdy rowers is all that is needed, and it is harvest time all the year round in these well-watered gardens, fertilized by the glowing Mexican sun. From Vera Cruz a steamer runs to Havana, stopping at Sisal, one of the few seaport towns of Yucatan. The passage is made in three days, and from Sisal the traveller makes his way some hundred miles into the interior, in search of the * Man ii Mt iin TI MNT Ta ae RMT TTT NW Ns AM Me Hi Il | CCA FLOATING GARDENS OF MEXICO. 304 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. remarkable ruins which render Yucatan exceptionally attractive to the archxologist. The two most important groups are those of Chi-Chen and those of Uxmal, which we shall briefly describe. | The edifices yet standing at Chi-Chen are all found within a circumference of two miles, although outside of this space are ruins extending over a considerable region. ‘These would seem to have been structures of less consequence, while the group of buildings in the centre were evidently their important public edifices. What were the exact uses for which these huge masses of masonry were intended it is not Ruins of Tlalmanalco. easy to say, but names have been applied to them by explorers in accordance with their conjectured design. They stand on a succession of terraces, composed of rubble imbedded in mortar, and held together by finished walls of fine concrete limestone. From these terraces — the buildings rise perpendicularly generally to one half their height where there are entablatures, above which to the cornice, the facade is laid off in compartments which are elaborately decorated with stone sculpture, illustrated with various hieroglyphical fig- ures, and varied by elaborate borders, the whole work being executed with great accuracy and precision. In height these buildings rarely exceed twenty-five feet, and they seem af SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 305 to have been long and narrow, and windowless. The rooms within, lighted only by the doorways, were finished with a sort of white stucco, and painted in fresco, the colors being still in good preservation, sky-blue and light green predominating. The doorways are rectangular and about seven feet in height, stone rings and holes at their sides indicating that doors once swung in them. The ruined structure, of which a portion is here represented, is called “the ——s == Bas-relief of Tigers. Circus, Chi-Chen. Church” by the natives, but has rather the appearance of a circus or gymnasium. A thicket of tangled vegetation surrounds it, and the roots of the trees that grow on its top have penetrated and broken apart the massive stone work, leaving little of the decoration perfect save the bas-relief of tigers, representing these animals, two by two, separated by a circular medallion containing lesser circles. The principal building of Chi-Chen has been called the “Palace of the Nuns; ” 306 3 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. but probably “the Palace of the Vestals” would be a designation more in harmony with the early Mexican religions. ‘The fagade on the opposite page measures thirty-two feet in length and twenty in height. Over the doorway is a heavy stone lintel, con- tainnmg two double rows of hieroglyphics, with a sculptured ornament between ; and an oval medallion above contains a representation of a human figure in sitting pos- ture, with a curious head-dress of feathers and tassels. The ornaments of this fagade are composed of small square blocks of stone cut to the depth of an inch and a half, apparently with the most delicate tools, and inserted into the wall. The wall ill mM i vA Wil Vis vpnonghil Ale 1 i JAR fl a North Fagade of the Nuns’ Palace. Chi-Chen. itself is made of large blocks of limestone set in a mortar as durable as the stone itself. ‘The north fagade of the same building is represented above. A few rods to the south of the Palace of the Nuns is a structure which has been called La Carcel, “the Prison,” (page 309). It stands on a platform of masonry, of which the angles and sides were beautifully laid with immense stones, lessening in size towards the top. ‘This building is surrounded with ruins and overgrown with rank grass and vines, and its level summit is covered with a deep soil on which trees and grass grow luxuriantly. , A few miles to the east of Chi-Chen are the ruins of Uxmal. The principal aa 7 f=) i RSS BS ee LS) a Fay 1 lean) CHI-CHEN.- i ene ls i Ue)! VE ROD bet) yt a A: p PALACE OF THE NUNS. BAN | 308 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. building is the Governor’s House, a vast and splendid pile of ruins, standing upon a platform five hundred feet long and four hundred and fifteen broad. The building itself is two hundred and seventy feet in length, eighty-two in width, and thirty in height. The whole building is plain (unlike those of Chi-Chen) from base to mould- ings, which run through the centre over the doorways; above which to the top are ornaments and sculptured work in great profusion, and of the most rich and strange workmanship. The fagade (page 307) presents the most remarkable elegance and finish; all i hi ih North Facade of the Nuns’ House. Uxmal. the stone work is as sharp in the angles as if cut with a knife, and the mould- ings have an admirable freedom of design and accuracy of detail. The extensive remains a few rods distant from the Govyernor’s House, in a north- erly direction, are designated by explorers the Nuns’ House. It comprises four great ranges of buildings, placed on the sides of a quadrangular terrace, measuring about eleven hundred feet around, and varying in height from fifteen to twenty-four feet. The northern range has rooms and corridors, the walls and pillars of which are still remaining. This range has a wide terrace in front, and commands a view of the whole group of buildings. The front wall has five doorways, the lintels and sides of which have fallen in and filled the interior with their debris. About a third of auinier Meads a / | Mo st: MU se (hu Ne CHI-CHEN. LA CARCEL. | | | | | i Wh | | Sih : i | I ‘Hy a ‘ - Mu A i en | (Oe Nee 310 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. the ornaments upon this facade remain, and give evidence of great power in combi- nation, and extraordinary skill in the use of materials. *'Three questions occur to the reader,” says Mr. Norman, who visited this region in 1841, and to whom we are indebted for details given above: “first, By whom they built ? and third, For what pur- after ascribing the work to certain Indian races, who had attained a were these ruins built ? second, When were And, high degree of civilization, and perished many centuries ago, he remarks: “ Whatever pose? ” diversity of origin may have existed among the races of Indians whose remains are the burden of our speculations, one thing is certain, that the builders of Chi-Cher It is also pretty obvious and Uxmal excelled in the mechanic and the fine arts. hy ; SH ae eZ == =e : se aaa d uy dik AR IT Real == = \ M\ N A lee RR | He CPL A id Sleic Fes as 14 wet CLAIR pS Pe TT NG HITTIN i - 1 5 a MUNG WAY. 7 Ai NW) on : re Se eR “ul, A aT re (14) TAN rn si MT Mill Mi Uy eA l IM It M tl I (=m A ‘iy ul bel H AGN TS SNS SANT CRANES f 6 ys ipsoaa S , he M4 Pits (| 2 th cae MARS Details of Facade of the Governor’s House at Uxmal. that Chi-Chen and the other cities of Yucatan were built by a nation of slaves. They were monuments raised to the glory of the few at the expense of the thou- sands.” | In respect to the date of their erection, Mr. Norman entertains no doubt that the American ruins belong to the remotest period, and are contemporary with those of Thebes and T'admor. Evidently the city of Chi-Chen was an antiquity when the foundations of the Parthenon at Athens, and the Cloaca Maxima at Rome, were laid; and in reply to his third question, he adds the supposition that these structures =SANANARAN NARROW TA MATTIE i Wh TTT TT ETT i— i j SAEED PIA HATI TTR TTT ALT DS TSE NL Ua {it ii Li TARA \ my AEM ib ii al f MEXICAN GARDEN. 312 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. were designed in part for religious uses, and in part for observatories for the study — of the heavenly bodies; also it may be true that, like the Pyramids of Egypt, they were ; SSS designed as burial places for the royal and sacerdotal rulers _ of the land. | On pages 311 and 312 our artist has sought to res sexquisite buildings may have stood in the days of their _ pristine splendor. The palace was not complete without its _ garden, and not only was this garden filled with superb trees = and flowering plants in almost endless variety, but it con- = tained fish-ponds and aviaries, and enclosures filled with ; eraceful creatures of the wood, adding all the charm of life ~and motion to the magnificence of the inanimate world. The Mexican legend which tells of Quetzacoatl, the demi- | god of his race, describes the Paradise whence, like Adam, he tion to all the usual luxuriance of royal pleasure-grounds, _it is said that the pavement of the walks and the edges -of the flower-beds were of purest silver, wrought and . chased like the jewel-box of a queen! SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 313 Cr BecA:: is ‘ i, LS oth NF Sey ‘C aN Li », Sy, “ROM Sisal to Havana is one of the most charming voyages the traveller can make. It is impossible to describe the beauty of nights upon the Gulf of Mexico. The moonlight, the serene and fathomless azure of the sky, the brilliant stars, the faint, feath- ery clouds, and the soft air warm with perpetua} summer, render every moment a delight. Arriving outside too late to enter the narrows, we await vi sunrise. Rising and falling on the long swell of the Gulf, we watch the A), daylight breaking over the purple slopes, barren enough, save where some aie - planter’s house nestles in dark-green groves of royal palm. From the dis- By tant mountain ranges to the surf-beaten rocks, the colors change from gray i. to blue, purple, and gold, as the dawn changes to daylight. The entrance @ , of the bay is pleasing but not impressive. There is nothing grand in the Any low scrubby hill on your left, as you enter where the famous forts, El < Moro and Cabaiias, are bristling with cannon. The city on your right, ey lying on a level patch of land between the bay and the open sea, looks gay and sunny with its quaintly painted houses, — green, red, blue, and yellow, — and its multitude of church domes and steeples in every variety of questionable style and taste. The streets are built to suit the heat of the country, very narrow, paved with large stones, and bordered by grim-looking stone houses seldom more than two stories high. The footways are usually very narrow, about two feet in width, so that two pedestrians can scarcely pass each other, while the crowd of cabs and other vehicles, driven at full speed, renders the roadway a scene of indescribable confusion. Many of the streets are shaded by awnings stretched across from house to house, so that the traveller drives along under a sort of extended tent, not unpleasant in the heat of the day. From the labyrinth of streets composing the old town, you emerge into the new town, which has been laid out since the demolition of the ancient line of fortifica- 314 . VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. tions. These streets are wider, and the houses are built higher, than in the old portion of the city nearer the harbor. 7 The public gardens and squares of Havana are carefully tended ; they are well 3 stocked with flowers, dense shady trees, and royal palms, and are embellished with fountains, the sight and sound of which are delightfully refreshing in such a climate. The Captain-General’s country-seat, near the outskirts of the town, is surrounded by — == SS == SSS = SSS = ) = == = {= = == = == == == == SaaS = SSS SSS SS = E = == = = = = : = = = = — — A SS SSS > 3 = 2S SS Be: SS : ll Se A af by | iter PE | ! sai mu i = = —— = ae = E ij = il MAN Me TTT i HH ai We Hil I ll a al ei AT o aes TTT AT = = = = = a = —= > = —= => 2 — a } —— = = = — == (i Avenue of Palms. beautiful, though somewhat neglected gardens. The avenues of stately royal palm, cocoas, mangoes, and other tropical fruits, are remarkably fine, and a labyrinth with hedges of the red and crimson hibiscus presents a mass of color of wonderfully gor- geous effect. the Cerro, lined with the marble-porticoed villas of the Cuban aristocracy. In style Returning, we follow the long street which forms the suburb called | ae HAVANA, mail 316 . VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. these villas are much alike, built close to the dusty road, with marble pillars sup- porting the roof, which projects over the wide veranda. A large entrance-hall, strange to say, includes also the coach-house, reception-rooms, and billiard-rooms, all on the same floor, the latter rooms facing the garden, which stretches back from each yilla. The floors are of white marble or colored tiles, as are also the walls, while the furniture consists of a few arm-chairs, rocking-chairs, and a table, all open to view through the unglazed windows. Three or four days suffice to exhaust the sights and curiosities of Havana, and the traveller is glad to exchange the noise and bad air.of the city for the charm- ing variety of a day at some one of the great sugar estates which make Cuba famous all the world over. Passing the swampy head of the Bay of Havana covered with low mangrove trees, we cross an undulating country bare and destitute of timber, but traversed by good roads in the immediate neighborhood of the capital, and sprinkled with farm- houses. As we advance the scenery improves, the green mountain ridges on either hand delighting our eyes. Rising abruptly to a height of some fourteen hundred feet, these ridges are clothed from base to summit with low green scrub, above which towers the gray stem and drab foliage of the royal palm, standing up clear against the sky-line on the rocky ridge. Sometimes we cross valleys of great beauty, through which wind streams whose banks are overhung by the graceful bamboo and flowering shrubs; sometimes we plunge into the tangled growth of natural forests (see page 317) which still cover a large portion of the island. Here the wild vine, stretching from tree to tree, the crimson and white convolvulus, covering the shrubs with a brilliant mass of blos- som, and many other creeping and climbing plants, form a mass of low vegetable growth impenetrable to man, save where he cuts his way with knife and hatchet. Out of this low growth rise to great height palm and laurel, and hoary old cotton- trees with gorgeously colored foliage. The hacienda, or planter’s country-house, stands in a grove of cocoa-nut palms, bananas, and orange-trees, and is approached by a perfectly straight avenue, bordered by double rows of the royal palm, planted within a few feet of one another, on either hand (page 314). The buildings themselves are plain and very simple. There is no display nor attempt at what we call “comfort.” In general, in the island of Cuba no man lives in the country for his own pleasure: the manufactory is the main point, and the residence of the proprietor but a vastly inferior consideration. At the time when the cultivation of coffee was the chief industry, the country presented a widely different appearance. The cafetal, or coffee plantation, was like a vast park with wide avenues and an enormous growth of trees of every variety, under whose shadow grew the coffee-plant to a height of five or six feet. 1: was AANA NSS Ws ») WV ft VAS Y, Wy Ny DoT, Led, ‘ BSN AS ~S INS RON \ SAN ) i AAG Ns Uy \ i\ Ly NN 7 NATURAL FOREST. CUBA. 318 - VOYAGES AND. TRAVELS. horticulture, says Mr. Dana, on the most extensive scale imaginable. But after twenty years or more, the Cuban planters learned that Brazil, the states of Central America, and the more southern of the West India Islands, could produce coffee to far better advantage. ‘The successive hurricanes of 1843 and 1845, joined to the colonial sys- . tem of the metropolis, put an end to the coffee plantations of Cuba. The deserted estates were devoted to the culture of the cane, and gradually, in the west and north, and then more and more in the eastern and southern portions of the island, the charming cafetals were laid waste, the trees cut down, the plough passed through the avenues and paths, and the denuded country became a sea of canes. A sugar plantation is neither a garden nor an orchard. It is no longer the beautiful home which the cafetal was. The proprietor’s family live in the suburbs’ of Havana or Matanzas, or even seek a more distant abode in some one of the great cities of the United States. gPUTUs) 0H eT MUNETLOTT sr acti ia mil m4 wit NaS th SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 319 GUIANA AND BRAZIL. t hs A . UIANA is the name applied to that extensive region of equatorial & America lying between the Orinoco, the Amazon, the Rio Negro, (4. and the ocean. This great territory has been divided among four nations — Brazil,“ France, Holland, and England. We present illus- : < trations of French Guiana, —otherwise known as Cayenne, from the ww Va name of its capital, — because this colony has been very much brought before the notice of the civilized world as the place of deporta- tion of French criminals, and notably those banished for political offences. Soon after Canada was lost to France, the French government decided to establish colonies of great size and importance in South America, : Y by way of compensation: about the middle of the eighteenth century an attempt was made in Guiana, but no enterprise was ever more dis- astrous or ill managed. Ten thousand emigrants were dispatched from France, chiefly from Alsace and Lorraine, to take possession of these vast solitudes ; but instead of sending out in advance the provisions and materials necessary for the colonists, — instead of preparing the coun- try in a degree for their reception, —instead of having careful regard to the time of year and the weather best suited for them, the same fleet which brought this unhappy crowd brought all their supplies, and landed them, in dire and utter confusion, on an island ten leagues to windward of Cayenne, in the midst of the rainy season. In an incredibly short space of time famine and pestilence had swept them from the earth, and the history of this disaster filled the civilized world with the impression that this region was but a lazar-house over which brooded perpetu- ally the shadow of death. Such an impression is, however, unjust. The climate is indeed hot, and the rainy season malarious, but it is no worse than many other tropical portions of the globe which have been made available for the residence of civilized man. To France, how- ever, it is a penal colony and nothing more, and it owes whatever prosperity it 320 possesses to VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the presence of the convicts and of the personnel accompanying them, Cayenne. Were transportation to cease and be trans- ferred to another colony, it would be a death-blow to French Guiana, and a few years would find the primeval forest again taking possession of a domain which three centuries have hardly sufficed to wrest from it. The city of Cayenne, a view of which is here given, is situated on the sea-shore, and, lying in a kind of delta, is often called an island. It is but a small town, and contains only wooden houses ; it is Pueronnded with a swampy moat, and poor ramparts, which form a kind of irregular hexagon, commanded by a fort whose nat- ural position is all that gives it impor- tance. | The’ only buildings of consequence in the town are the Government House and the Jesuit Mission (page 321). The latter presents a charming appearance, the build- ings being entirely surrounded by a beauti- ful orange grove and a wilderness of shrubs of every variety, which, in the season of blossom, fill the air with delicious perfume, and attract scores of humming-birds that balance in the air and fly about among the flowers like butterflies. The ‘chief article in furnishing a house in Cayenne or its neighborhood is the hammock. One often sees four in a room, and it is a great art to poise one’s self gracefully in this airy netting. It is only justice to the Creoles of Cayenne to say that they possess this art in the high- est degree. They sit gracefully, or, rather, half recline, swinging like a bird on a bough, an occasional tap with one foot on iu i i" ih + f V4 JESUIT MISSION. 322 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. : the floor keeping the motion up without interruption. The hammock serves also a carriage, and in this use it is quite indispensable. Near the city there are a fe good roads, it is true, one of which we give below ; but at the distance of a fe miles inland, nothing but the rudest paths. through the forest are found. To tray- erse these, a hammock is slung from an enormous bamboo pole, and the traveller, «¢* Road near Cayenne. lying comfortably at full length, is borne along by two stalwart negroes who sup- port the pole upon their shoulders. . The country is full of rivers and small streams, but navigation is everywhere impeded by waterfalls, which, however they may add to the picturesqueness of the country (see page 323), are to be regretted from an economic point of view. At the same time, the native wealth of Guiana is so great that it is impossible to believe NANI ki tH \\\i Nit iy Vib GN alice’ Wie ~ \ . a ” ay I ‘ silt Ki Wer a \ il i) WSs CASCADE ON THE ROSOTA. 324 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. it will remain forever so nearly a wilderness as it now is. Cotton, indigo, and coffee grow here to the best advantage; there is great variety of spices, also pepper, espe-_ cially of the kind known as: Cayenne ; pine-apples are the finest in the world, and— many varieties of fruit unknown to more temperate climes. The fine woods used for furniture abound: mahogany, violet-wood, satin-wood, rosewood, are as common as the pine-tree in New Hampshire. Nearly the same is true of the great region of the Rio Negro, lying south of the Guianas. This affluent of the Amazon is twelve hundred miles in length, and by means of the Cassiquiari, one of its tributaries, makes a connection between the Ama- zon and the Orinoco. Its waters, which seem in their mass as black as ink, and which really haye a Falls of the Rio Negro. distinct brown color quite perceptible in a glass, make a strange contrast to the yel- low flood of the Amazon. At Barra, its point of junction with the Amazon, it ag a mile and a half wide; further up it widens considerably, making deep bays ten * twelve miles across. Further on, again, it separates into several channels divided * innumerable islands, the total width being not less than twenty miles, and for several hundred miles of its course the two banks of the river cannot. be seen at once. Ascending the river still further we come to its passage through the Sierra of Curicuriari, and here its aspect and that of the country changes entirely. Irregular for a distance of forty miles. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 325 conical masses of granite rise in every direction, with numerous bare precipices where yeins and masses of quartz shine white as silver. The rapids begin and continue Small rocky islands and bare = : = : == = masses of rock fill the _ river. The stream flows rapidly round projecting points, and the main channel is full of eddies and foam. Beds and ledges of rock cross the entire width of the river, and through their chasms the water rushes with terrific force, forming dangerous whirl- pools below. Most of the principal falls and rapids in this long series have names. At Sao Gabriel are the principal falls. Here an island in the middle of the river divides it into two channels, along each of which rolls a tremendous flood of water down an_ incline formed of submerged rocks. Above this region, the Rio Negro again spreads out calm and placid, and with water black as ever. At intervals along the shore are villages of thatched GAS : View on the Rio Negro. mud huts, sometimes whitewashed, 4 sometimes of their native earth color. Back of these lies the illimitable virgin forest. A little way into this forest the road leads: at first a tolerable path, it soon be- comes a mere track a few inches wide, winding among thorny creepers, and over deep beds of decaying leaves. Gigantic buttress-trees, tall, fluted stems, strange palms, and elegant tree-ferns abound on every side. Hard roots rise up in the path, swamp and mud alternate with rocks. In short, it is a true wilderness. All along the coast of Brazil countless streams fall into the ocean, and the tide fights back the current of the stream, as at the mouth of the Sagnassou (page 326) ; but till the traveller approaches Rio Janeiro there is really little that tempts him to explore. . 326 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Superb, however, is the Brazilian capital, as one approaches it by sea, — great rocky masses rising on the right and left, like a vast gateway to the harbor. On the. southern side is the great Pao de Agucar, the Sugar Loaf, the well-known landmark — for ships. Entering through this portal we find ourselves in a great amphitheatre, : #4 where the water is like a tranquil inland lake: flower-clad islands lie about us, and in the background rises a well-wooded chain of hills. Re Drawing nearer the city, its white houses and churches and forts make a charm- ing contrast with the emerald verdure of the shore and the dark blue of the water, Near the sea is the Paseo Publico, or public promenade (page 328); it is a small garden, surrounded with walls and protected from the sea by a perpendicular quay of mf * aM = Mouth of the Sagnassou. hewn stone. most attractive in the evening, when the cool sea-breeze tempers the extreme heat Its shady avenues of mangoes, bread-fruit tree, and«the rose-apple, are of the day. | A. favorite excursion alike for visitors and residents at Rio is the drive to the Botanic Garden, about eight miles from the city. The place is beautiful, as any place must be in the tropics that is called a garden, but it is somewhat neglected and overgrown. The palm avenue represented on the opposite page is its most char- acteristic feature. “I wish it were possible,” says Professor Agassiz, “to give in words the faintest idea of the architectural beauty of this colonnade of palms, with their green crowns meeting to form the roof. Straight, firm, and smooth as stone columns, NTI cll TO AVENUE OF PALMS IN THE BOTANIC GARDEN, 328 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. a dim vision of colonnades in some ancient Egyptian temple rises to the imagination, as one looks down the long vista.” This palm is the Oreodoxra oleracea, and in the case referred to has reached a_ height of eighty feet. Many other varieties exist in Brazil, their diversity being much greater even than that of our oaks, so that it would require a comprehensive comparison with a majority of our forest trees to match the differences they exhibit fl among themselves. In the opinion of the distinguished naturalist above quoted, there ee Paseo Publico. ’ are four essentially different forms among palms: the tall ones, with a slender and erect stem, terminating with a crown of long, feathery leaves, or with broad fan-— shaped leaves; the bushy ones, whose leaves rise apparently in tufts from the ground, — the stem remaining hidden under the foliage ; the brush-like ones, with a small stem and a few rather large leaves ; and, finally, the winding, creeping, slender species. T'o the imagination, however, there is but one palm-tree, and that has the stately — shaft and feathery top of the palms of the Botanic Garden in Rio. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 329 THE old city of the Incas, Cuzco, the an- cient Peruvian capital, lies at the astonishing height of eleven thousand three hundred and eighty feet above the level of the sea; that is to say, three thousand seven hundred and seventy feet higher than the hospice of St. Bernard in Switzerland. Yet the latter is in a region of perpetual snow, while Cuzco stands in a beautiful valley covered with fields of barley and lucern, and on its level, both east and west, lie some of the finest forests of the mid-sierra, and some of the most fertile farming land in all the great continent of South America. We shall present several views obtained on a journey to the east of Cuzco, and 330 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. afterwards another series representing an excursion down the valley of the Apurimac, a region lying west of that city. Let us imagine ourselves starting from Cuzco in the early morning, with a large cavalcade and a numerous train of pack-mules, carrying all the necessary outfit for < such an expedition. A day’s journey brings us to the village of Huaro; and on the following morning, leaving the village, we desert the main road, which keeps along the higher ground up the valley of the Huilcanota, through the Pass of the Sierra, and so on to Titicaca, the great mountain-lake of Peru. Our path descends by a f t Hifi) MWe) MM) MOM Mountain near Huaro. succession of zigzags towards the bottom of the ravine in which flows the little stream. ‘The ravine itself, strewn with enormous rocks and a multitude of small, round pebbles, is about half a mile in width. Through it the river runs, in the dry season a mere thread of silver, but at the time when the snows melt, transformed into a mad torrent, it fills the whole width of the ravine, carrying in its muddy current huge f rocks detached from the mountain side, and paving-stones from the villages through which it passes. Reaching the opposite bank, our cavaleade prepares itself to climb the huge moun- tain of clay-slate which bars the way. This enormous mass from base to summit *O. | i : i | | | Ai NK ii i [ : fl) ? ces HACIENDA OF LAURAMARCA. 332 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. presents the usual stratification of slate (see page 330), varying in color from bluish gray to a shade almost black, the surface in many places haying a vitrified appear- ance, as if it had been subjected to intense heat. Steep and narrow footpaths, invisible at a distance, so hidden are they by the salient or retreating angles of the stratification, lead to the summit ; and both men and horses require often to rest, in the long and wearisome ascent, to accustom the lungs to the extremely rarefied air of this great height. Three hours’ steady climbing brings us to the top, and we find ourselves upon a The Gate of the Cordilleras. vast plateau, which stretches away to the horizon like a limitless plain. No road crosses this region, but the muleteers well know their way, and direct us east-southeast with the certainty of a hunting-dog following a scent, and towards night one of them cries out “Lauramarca!” It is the hacienda, where we are to pass the night. (See page 331.) The high table-lands of the Peruvian Andes abound in great solitary haciendas like this ; but Lauramarca is, or has been till lately, the most important one in all the region. we eS —sz THE ROMSDAL. 356 ) VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. from the road, varying from one to two thousand feet in height. In some parts of this wall great scars are visible, where huge masses have scaled off and thundered down; these fragments may be seen below cumbering the river-bed, and forcing its waters to roar and foam through the narrow channels left between them. The course of the road, also, has in many places been turned to wind around these huge frag- ments, and in some places the blocks themselves have been blasted, and the road fairly cut through them. ‘Above these scars an overhanging cornice may usually be seen, the upper surface from which the fragment was detached. The heap of mas- sive ruins below, and the scar above, with its overhanging cornice, have a tendency i | i | nit hi ih 4 i } | Ki HNN i (Ni I i } | i | Hi : AN | } Veblungs naeset. to prevent the observant traveller from seating himself anywhere along beneath this wall, lest another crash should occur at a moment unfortunate for himself. To enumerate the waterfalls of the Romsdal would be quite impossible. The most abundant and characteristic are those which dash down over the mountain wall we have just described. Of these the Monge Fos is the most beautiful. Looking up from the valley to the top of the rocky wall, the torrent is seen pouring appar- ently out of the sky. It curves smoothly over the topmost edge, as blue as the heaven above it, lustrous with the light which shines clear through the translucent current, then is suddenly lost, having made a plunge of a hundred feet or so into a great basin which it has hollowed out for itself; shattered to fragments, it reap- pears, and, striking the rock once more, spreads out into a white fleece, rushing down Pi ———— le oo TJ = SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 357 over a long rugged slope. At every resisting ledge, clouds of spray and mist are flung out, having each its exquisite rainbow. Further down, a great ledge bars its path, and it flings itself up into the air, falling back a mere water-dust, down a distance of four or five hundred feet more, where it showers upon a rocky slope, collects into countless little rills, disappears again, and finally rushes under the road and joins the main river. There is much legendary interest attached to the Romsdal. A certain range of fantastic, crenellated rocky peaks, seen from Veblungsnaeset, the harbor at the mouth The Fiord of Framnaes. of the fiord (see page 356), are said to be sorcerers, who, seeking to prevent St. Olaf from penetrating into this valley, in order to introduce Christianity into it, were changed into stone by the devout monarch. All this region was once a sort of Odinic Olympus; here was the abode of the Scandinavian divinities, and long after the rest of the country had submitted to the new faith, this valley held out stoutly for the religion of its forefathers. The whole western coast of Norway, in fact, has its poetic associations ; many points have been sung in imperishable verse by Tegner, the modern bard of Sweden. We are in the country of Frithiof and Ingeborg, whose story has inspired the poet q 358 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. with some of his finest verses. The history of these faithful lovers recalls our Eng lish romance of Paul and Virginia ; it was amid these savage peaks that Frithic sought the young eaglets that he brought to his sweetheart ; across these wild to rents he bore her in his arms ; in these forests he hunted the bear which decimai a the flock of his beloved one. Here in the Fiord of Framnaes (see preceding I lay the little vessel which was to bear the lover from the other side of the ‘¢ the temple of Balder, where the young girl had been immured by her father. With these poetic souvenirs we take our leave of the wild and beautiful — way, whose power of fascination reaches across sea and land, bringing the yo of its loveliness not alone from England, or from New York, but from the fi rn Pacific coast of the American continent. ot Tees Ney Se ZEA TLAN Mt ble. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 359 DENMARK. —o$tjo0— FROM Norway to Denmark is but an easy flight for the imagination, although it be many weary leagues of stormy sea to the good ship ploughing her way down Skager Rack and Categat and Sund, until the beautiful harbor of Copenhagen is attained, and = the handsome city of one hundred and fifty thousand souls, the metropolis of the future Scandinavian empire, lies before us. In all quarters of the city the houses are admirable. Some are Gothic, many are modern; they are built of Danish brick, or of stone brought from Germany. The Exchange, represented on page 360, is one of the most picturesque of the public buildings of Copenhagen. It has a curious tower covered with lead, from which springs a spire composed of the twisted tails of four dragons, whose heads lie on the tower-roof, looking out to the four points of the compass. 360 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Adolphus, that hero by land and sea, that enemy of the House of Austria, that ¢ defender of the Reformation, that statesman, that captain, that admiral, that poet in brick and stone. This rude soldier was like a Caliph of Bagdad in his love of : architecture, and in the magnificent structures that he left behind him. i} \ \ i | We Hutt ! y in OITTTTTNSTTT TIT CACTET ENT np TTITTITTT \| | Hy WN Gis The Exchange. Copenhagen. The Palace is an irregular structure of red brick, in the Gothic style, with high | pointed roof, and four unequal towers. It is now used as an_ historical museum, and | contains, hall after hall, relics of all the kings of Denmark, from Christian ITV. down to Frederick VII. The collection of silver cups and flagons of exquisite workmanship is very remarkable ; so, also, is the treasure of Venetian glass, of which eight hun- dred pieces were sent by one doge to Frederick ITV. The hall of the Knights i the third story of the palace is a magnificent apartment: it is the coronation ha i of the Danish kings. The throne is surrounded by three silver lions, the armorial bearings of Denmark, understood to represent the Great Belt, the Little Belt, and the Sund. i im | wii p ui “ i ’ | Ml . itl | | mn \\\ Wiel | | | lu | i el i | Hn | } | | | an I "hl mh er ull hil es inf ) | | ih | i i } | Maas POEL PRO TM li BUTT : i VIEW OF COPENHAGEN. 362 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. From the Old Palace of the kings to the home of a king’s favorite, is a nat- ural transition. In the Amac Market stands the house of Divecke, a gabled Renais- sance building erected in 1616. Divecke was the pretty daughter of a market-woman from Amsterdam, Siegbrit by name. The girl won the king’s affection, which is not a new incident in royal story; but the peculiarity of this romance is that her mother, the market-woman, became the king’s councillor and chief adviser; * Siegbrit the prime 4 minister,” the history of the time calls her. q | A ili | ANA | ) | ! van pt YA ase <2 1) se me = 2 =| s e S ps =H = ee is 4, v Di all m us eS 7 gs A pee. ¥ = 2 g Les a aE Earle, NeSclE Z SSE Jigee i, ras jE I | fees A i A pag AM 7 tHe Ss tes Ss a yy a Legs face a z We 2 y = (Mees S 3 === = A We Zh rd Me B, Fee 2 ow le = ANY: Peed | aA, z = g a BE i of iE | A Be 5 g Eg SP Ss is eA WEA ey iz Bee .s Ee, My! Il 0 T if 4 | ze ; A $ : = oS SS The Balas of Rosenborg. On pages 364 and 365 are represented the portico and interior of the Frue Kirke, the most interesting and precious building in all Denmark, because filled with the inspiration and genius of her greatest son, Thorwaldsen. The original Frue Kirke was destroyed in the bombardment of 1807, and when rebuilt was decorated entirely by Thorwaldsen, who placed here some of his most valuable work. It was upon his return from Italy, in 1820, after an absence of twenty-three years, that this work SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 363 was placed in his hands, and it was not completed till shortly before his death, which occurred in March, 1844. It is of course understood that many of the figures were the work of his pupils, only receiving finishing touches here and there from the hand of the great master. eeeree We ant : fe : a UUUANNTLINY il Ii} i TMT Amac Market and House of Divecke. The portico of the church is regarded as too small for the best effect, but in other respects is an admirable structure, and the pediment is a magnificent composition. It represents the preaching of St. John the Baptist, and consists of figures in terra cotta, entirely detached from the background. The height of the St. John, the central 364. VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. figure, is nearly eight feet, the entire breadth of the pediment forty-one feet eight inches. j A brief sketch of the composition will aid the reader in understanding the picture. The | central figure is the Baptist, with a staff surmounted by a cross; on his right are a young man, attentively listening; an old man and his son; a mother kneeling, with her little child leaning against her shoulder; a Jewish doctor seated, with bent figure and arms folded upon his breast ; and a reclining youth, who looks up to the preacher with earnestness. On the left of St. John are a youth, in upright posture, drawing» off his cloak in preparation for baptism; a Pharisee, in disdainful attitude ; a hunter, laden with game and followed by his dog, stopping for a moment to listen ; two — Portico of the Frue Kirke. children occupied with the dog ; a mother seated, with her child standing beside her ; and a recumbent shepherd, who does not seem to listen. It will be readily imagined how impressive these great figures must be, standing out upon the portico of the Frue Kirke. Under the portico we catch a glimpse, in the illustration, of the frieze over the main door, which represents the entry of Christ into Jerusalem ; its height is four feet, its length nearly forty-four. Within the church are the colossal statues of the Christ and Twelve Apostles, and the kneeling Angel of Baptism, an exquisite figure holding a large shallow shell, SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 365 intended to contain water. Behind and above the altar there is a frieze represent- ing our Lord on the road to Calvary, and on the walls of the side aisles are two other friezes,—the Baptism of Jesus, and the Lord’s Supper; also a bas-relief illus- trating Charity, and another, “The Guardian Angel.” The Christ is eleven feet and a half in height, and the twelve apostles vary from eight feet one inch, the tallest (St. John and St. Simon Zelotes), to seven feet eight inches (St. Philip). a UAHA ut | we —— 9 a — — Frue Kirke. Interior. The Christ of Thorwaldsen is as beautiful as Raphael’s or Leonardo’s. The hair is parted in the middle and falls over the shoulders, and the features are of exqui- site delicacy. But the shoulders are broad almost like those of a Hercules, and the arms, stretched out as if inviting the weary and heavy-laden, are strong and mas- sive as those of an athlete. 366 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. To each of the apostles the sculptor has given a distinct individuality. ‘St. E expresses faith; St. Paul, the power of the gospel; there is more of gentlene love in the features of St. John; an austere resignation is stamped upon the | tenance of St. Simon. “ Nevertheless,” says Plon, “in attitude and disposition drapery, in the severity as well as beauty of the types, the apostles are less I lik saints and martyrs than philosophers and sages.’ Opeprepes Sta CIDeF Pig Hal rarege capital of the kingdom. It had once twenty-seven churches, and has now bat ‘one the Cathedral. It was founded in 980 by Harold Blue-Tooth, and we may well, it the Westminster Abbey, or the St. Denis, of Denmark. All the early kings are SAOSESMOlLeaHadAuH HO AOVWIVd 2 Se Ss GE — re pce Wepre | ee gg EN ant Ck EL era Ae Ws SUE. BI SOR NZSINSEIRSEINCSINS ED SS Hs: == zr oe I oN a ee SS HED! YES = I) —— salen | x Be) Sw = fl ——= = H i : = == = = 368 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Pd kingdoms under the sceptre which she wielded in the name of her grandson. Herm also, was interred in a separate chapel the great hero of the Oldenburg dynasty, Christian IV. The apse is believed to have been half of the original circular church, and, as such, is the most interesting point of the whole building. Seen from a distance, the towers are very impressive, and the whole mass stands out against the sky, a fitting representation of the medizeval period to which it belongs. T'wenty miles north of Copenhagen is Fredericksborg, the great palace, the Ver- sailles, one may say, of the Danish kings. Like a wounded hero of the north it still stands, though ravaged by fire about the year 1860. We present two illustra- tions of Fredericksborg, that on page 367, the castle as seen from the courtyard, and the steel engraving, a view from across the lake. Chateau of Egeskow. Chateau of Lovenborg. This also is the work of Christian TV., and was built on three little islands in a lake connected by bridges, and covered to the water’s edge, so that the palace seems to rise from the water like a chateau of fairy-land. It is a colossal edifice, and of most capricious variety in respect to architecture. Its walls are in part brick, in part stone ; its fagades and towers, here Greek, there Gothic; while the Scandi- navian imagination glitters about every portion of the vast structure, from statues — and niches, arched passage-ways and pillars of black Norway marble, and_bas-reliefs, to the general effect of mingled color, dark and brilliant, which is reflected beneath the blue sky in the green waters of the lake. The great chapel is all emblazoned with the shields of the knights of the Order of the Elephant. Its pulpit and altar are of ebony and silver, — six hundred pounds of the precious metal is used in it, they say,—but the exquisite workmanship dis- played in the materials gives them a yalue far exceeding their brute worth. The gardens are laid out in the French style, and are very extensive ; but the , be ee te ak o ‘ ‘7 b) ; ; J : nT ME, RA Oe Sa Poe Pe } nay eh he Y te Cy Go oa WY oA OM L = a . ‘ ‘Ts @* oa kY T.HIGHAM. ENGRAVEI XK 5 Uk > i ID TAIN ILA a] DRAWN BY CAPTY BATTY “. br SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 369 ‘royal forest, with its magnificent avenues of beech-trees, may rival the finest in all Europe. This castle was the favorite home of Christian ITV. Fétes and banquets of all kinds, by day and night, succeeded each other in the spacious halls and superb pleas- ure-grounds, and were graced by the beauty and gentleness of Christine Munch, whom the king, by a morganatic marriage, made his wife. To all the higher classes there is, in Denmark, a great charm in country life. It is a land of chateaux, like those represented on this and the preceding page, some of which are of great beauty. Here they impress you by their grandeur, there you are charmed by their dainty elegance. Some are surrounded by crenellated walls, flanked with solid towers, and have all the appurtenances of the medizval stronghold ; Chateau of Glorup. others are all Gothic ornamentation, with round and pointed arches, with galleries and baleonies, where the Arab fancy blends with Scandinavian caprice. Some chateaux are feudal citadels with menacing donjons; others are hunting-lodges, in the heart of the deep woods; others are like a swan’s nest among the reeds; others are like Ve- hetian palaces, which mirror their sculptured bridges in the deep-green water of the lagoons. In a few the most exquisite taste, without relinquishing its heritage of the past, has united it to the present by the miracles of modern comfort and the magic of modern art. The Chateau of Glorup, represented above, is one of the largest and most beau- tiful in the country. It stands in a valley amid superb groves of forest-trees. To look at its exterior, you would call it some princely abbey of the middle ages ; within, it is a vast Trianon, with all the charming variety and caprice which the Scandinavian imagination can suggest. The building is quadrangular, so that whep 370 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. one has entered through the grand gateway, with its lattice-work of gilded iron and _ its great oaken doors, he finds himself in a courtyard, on all four sides of which the stately walls rise to the height of their five stories, while overhead float the two flags, —that of the family, with bars of yellow, black, red, and blue, and that of Den- mark, a white cross upon a red background. The establishment is kept up in a manner worthy of the noble old building. The stables are filled with blood-horses — English, Danish, and Norwegian. Carriages and sledges are in great variety, the latter those charming northern equipages that fly by day through a whirlwind of light snow, and by night, with their high-hung lanterns, light up the wintry landscape, and devour the road to the low music of the Scandinavian sleigh-bells. The estate is under admirable culture. Vast grain-fields, — Chateau of Rygaard. and pasture grounds where cattle feed by the hundred, recall England. It is an England of the north, without English manufactures, and with forests such as are now unknown in the island kingdom. These chateaux of counts and barons, or of great untitled land-owners, have a social and political signification. Sometimes many estates belong to one family, and form a little sovereignty almost like a kingdom. The whole country of Denmark is divided into eighteen counties, fourteen baronies, and forty-seven fiefs. These estates are inalienable, indivisible, descending absolutely by the law of primogeniture. It is a system deeply rooted, logical, strong in prestige, and extremely interesting to the student of political economy. Whether it can endure forever must be doubted ; whether anything better will succeed it, is a point upon which opinions vary, SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 371 iW! WO state, Poland retains a character, perhaps, more individ- ual and peculiar than any other country in Europe, and is no more likely to be assimilated and lost in the great nation of Russia, than are the Jews or the Gypsies in the various countries where for the moment they make their home. Of the great kingdom which was ruled for nearly two centuries by the illustrious House of Jagellon, only that portion which fell to Russia at the time of the partition is now called by the name of Poland: this portion, however, contains the capital, and numbers in its five million inhabitants all the old, heroic names which have given the unhappy little country a world-wide fame. Warsaw is a city nearly four- teen miles in circumference, haying a population of about a hundred and fifty thou- BY VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. sand persons. It has one long, broad street, and many narrow ones lying at right angles to the main thoroughfare. The city, diversified by many gardens and orchards, extends partly over a plain, partly upon a plateau which rises along the shore of the Vistula, and, thanks to the wide plains and the river, enjoys fresh air and a healthful climate. Warsaw, notwithstanding its celebrity, is far from meeting our ideas of the splen- dor suited for a capital. At every step one sees remnants of barbarism; perhaps lik rs ie SS = Church of the Holy Cross. Warsaw. the most painful contrast which strikes the eye is that existing between the splen- did churches and the poor wooden houses in which a majority of the inhabitants reside. From the earliest times, an ostentatious extravagance in the building of churches has been one of the weak points of the Polish magnates. We may take for an example the Church of the Holy Cross (see above). It serves as the family tomb of the Czartoryskis, who are buried under the nave. The magnificence of this building is extreme: three altars, laden with gold, stand within it ; they are consecrated specially to requiem masses, now no longer said. All the SCENES IN MANY LANDS. _ 303 mterior of the church is lined with marble, white and black, brought from distant ‘quarries at enormous expense of money and labor. All the decorations were exe- cuted in foreign lands: the high altar at Hlbing, the baptismal fonts in Italy. The paintings are due to German, French, and Venetian masters, for Poland herself has produced no painter worthy of the name. Warsaw contains many promenades and places of public out-of-door resort. Its finest avenue is the Belvedere, bordered for more than a mile by a triple row of Chateau of Lazienski. chestnut-trees. It leads from the city to the Chateau of Lazienski, here represented, and is thronged during the fine weather by the inhabitants. This palace served as the residence of the emperor Nicholas [., whenever he came to Warsaw. Originally, the estate was but a hunting-park, cut by watercourses, surrounded by swamps and quite buried in mud. Later, baths were constructed, laznia, reached by a rude plank road; hence its name, palatz lazienok. Jobn III. presented it to Stanislas Lubomirski, and this noble neglected it utterly. Stanislas Augustus bought it back, erected a summer chateau, and laid out ornamental grounds 3T4 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. . ‘> of vast extent, decorating them with fountains and groups of statuary in the fash- ion of that day. C4 The place as it now exists is as beautiful as fairy-land. The chateau stands . between two lakes; to one of its wings a church has been added, built in 1846, and dedicated to Alexander Newski. All along the side of the chateau a marble staircase descends into the lake. The first story of the building consists entirely of a : “ ——— = =e Park of Lazienski. superb reception rooms, of which the finest is a long salon, with windows opening each side upon the water. It contains also a splendid picture gallery, and a white marble Venus of great beauty. The theatre of the chateau is built upon an island in the lake, in front of the main structure, and the stage is separated by a canal from the great audience room, which will accommodate fifteen hundred persons. The park is traversed by broad avenues of white poplars, and filled with pretty summer houses. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 375 i" BERLIN may appropriately be called a city of palaces, for there is scarcely a street in all the five towns and as many suburbs that go to make up the great city, that does not boast of some splendid public building, or some palace either of the royal family or of the higher nobility. Other European capitals have their one or two handsome quarters, but the fine houses of Berlin are on every hand. Domes, colonnades, and all the elegances of Greek architecture meet the eye wherever we turn, and from the width of the streets, and the agreeable variety of avenues of trees and flower-gardens interven- ing, each building is seen to the best advantage. Still it cannot be denied that Berlin is the most prosaic of all the great capitals 376 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. of Europe. There is a monotony about some of the finest streets of this city, arial ing from their great length and breadth, and from the uniformity and similarity of : the buildings, that is apt to make the stranger sigh for alleys less straight and splendid, the narrow, irregular lanes, and the quaint Gothic or medizval buildings of many an old town in Southern Germany or by the Rhine. Still further, it must be owned that when we closely inspect these fine Greek fagades and Ionic columns, we perceive with pain that fagades, and columns too, are but brick faced with stucco, which here and there, even with the best of care in this damp climate, has flaked off at some exposed corner, and shows the vulgar material beneath. There is no city that breathes less the spirit of antiquity than Berlin. It looks, indeed, like a town of the new world rather than the old,— American rather than European. The great similarity in its buildmgs suggests the notion that it was called suddenly and at once into existence; which, indeed, is not far from the fact, Fred- erick the Great being the necromancer. One great ornament of Berlin must not be overlooked in any fair enumeration of its beauties and defects,—the abundance of its flowers. The balconies of houses teem with them; they stand up proudly in great vases, adorning the fronts of many of the buildings, and far up against the sky you catch a glimpse of them, decorating the garret lodging of some poor artisan or work-woman. The Emperor’s Palace is the main feature of the city, owing much of its impos- ing appearance to its colossal size. Its length is four hundred feet, its breadth two hundred and seventy-six, and its height a little over a hundred. It has four inner courtyards and six hundred rooms, of which those shown to the public are daily filled by a throng of visitors. The finest among these show apartments are the Pic- ture-Gallery ; the White Hall, furnished entirely in marble at an expense of six hundred thousand dollars; the Rittersaal, containing statues of the Hlectors; and the Chapel, whose dome rises above the other roofs, giving variety to the outline of the great mass. The existence of a palace on this spot dates to a grant made by the city of Berlin to the Elector Frederick I. This document was signed on St. John’s day, 1442, and the Elector, at once improving the concession made him, had his castle finished and ready for occupancy in 1451. Of this fortress, for such it really was, some separate portions remain, incorporated in the present structure. In 1538 great alterations were made by Joachim IL., the champion of the Reformation. An archi- tect, Kaspar Theiss, whose name is yet renowned in Germany, tore down much of the early structure, and began the building of an edifice which may be properly called the first palace of Berlin. For fifty years this work went slowly on, under different architects, till the city of Berlin set fifteen masons at work upon it, and in 1595 it was completed. In 1604, further additions were made to the building, all a ‘NITHSHa NI ADVIVd AHL hi i ; ; - wl UL RK gt A Os RA UR A” a ggg NA A sa — = ; am: = m',” a b 878 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. of which are yet standing. In 1694, Frederick III. appointed Andreas Schltiter court- builder, and when in 1701 the Elector became King of Prussia, he carried on the enlargement of his palace with renewed enthusiasm. finally, in the reign of Fred- erick William I., the work was completed, and the vast structure stood forth as now it stands, with but a single exception, — the new Chapel with its beautiful dome, added by Frederick William IV., the brother and immediate predecessor of the Hm- peror William. To Frederick William IV. are likewise due the great architectural plans in car- rying out which the present emperor has constructed the new building called the AUBIN It Sy vee { Bird-House. Zoological Gardens. National Galiery, of which the grand staircase is represented on the opposite page. The late king had the intention of crecting on the island which lies in the heart of Berlin, and already is made an architectural centre by the Palace and the Mu- seum, a great basilica in the Byzantine style, a colonnade uniting it with the Palace on the south, and on the north, a building designated as a Campo Santo, or burial- place for the royal family. Still further it was his intention to erect near by an edifice in the Florentine style to contain the Royal Library, and a building in the Greek style for the University. A further plan, for the New Museum, was the only one which the designer of so many lived to see completed. cu ce ini i ‘ ee ui Ss Myf i ini (Fa i st i : Mh | ee NUR mt User a : TMT va Ha =i nT : gil “a Hl 0 sg hn TA aT | il if rn | a ene i nl cca : oe | TIRE IM Mn | ——= —_ AMT AT 0 om a ee z ie a Hi = : var re a Tl ow ina" iii aan mn = eS) co u cn oT _ | ie ire —= Sy int | === Bi Je sou el) ALM I Hh i (ae iy in 380 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. | In 1866 the present emperor, then King William I., gave orders for the erection of the building his brother had designed for the University, to be called the Na- tional Gallery, and consecrated to the exhibition of German art in all its forms. Ten years passed as the work went on, and on the 22d of March, 1876, the doors of this magnificent edifice were thrown open, and the German world was bidden to see that, amid all the din of arms and advancement of material interests which have characterized the decade just passed, the traditional love of art has burned with as ardent a flame as in any days of peace the nation had ever known. In any degree properly to describe this new building is impossible, with the space Z LAOK Le > Yel Snake-House. Zoological Gardens. at our command. It stands midway in the area between the river Spree and the New Museum, and is to be surrounded by the most tasteful grounds, with lawns, flower- beds, fountains, and statues. The basement of gray granite is forty feet high, and upon this rises a Greek temple of the purest style, of hewn red sandstone, its roof supported by fluted Corinthian pillars. A grand staircase of Carrara marble (see page 379) leads from the entrance to the first story of the building. The walls on both sides of the lower story are of variegated red Pyrenean marble, while those above are of red stucco; the floors from which the stairs ascend are of yellow, red, and white marble, in a_tessellated i eh ~~ i 5 SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 381 ‘. pattern. In the distance are seen two of the black Silesian marble pillars of the lower hall, supporting the arched roof upon their composite capitals of gold bronze. Beyond and above is a very wilderness of splendid halls and cabinets, designed to contain the various great works of art which German genius has produced and to all future time shall produce, encouraged and stimulated as in no other country in the world. ‘he building itself, in all its parts, is a magnificent triumph of German art. Architecture, sculpture, and painting have vied with one another in bringing to it their most beautiful and precious gifts, “to prove,” says Dr. Zehlicke, with a pride not un- pardonable in such a case, “that the German people not merely win victory by the Ailul\ttieeresse iil} Grotto. Sans-Souci. sword, but in the arts of peace have grown to be a match for any nation in the world.” To pass from the massive grandeur of granite and marble and bronze, to the airy lightness that comes from the use of iron and glass, and to turn from the wonders of art to the curiosities of nature, let us follow the Berlinese crowd to one of its favorite resorts, the Zodlogical Gardens, just beyond the great park outside the city gates. On page 378 is represented the great aviary, where birds of every clime dwell in happy unconsciousness of the glass walls that shut them in from liberty. On page 380 is perhaps a less pleasant sight, and yet the snakes have their admirers, as they ought, with the wonderful metallic sheen of their lustrous skins, and their lithe and sinuous motions. 382 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. - From Berlin to Potsdam is a distance of about twenty miles, accomplished in three | quarters of an hour by train, but a charming drive by the road, if one is not pressed for time. This road is one continuous avenue of trees, and has rather the air of a private approach to some stately chateau than of a public highway. ‘The country, watered as it is by the Havel, abounds in the finest trees and most luxuriant shrub- bery, and has afforded the landscape gardener points of picturesque beauty of which the utmost advantage has been taken. The town of Potsdam is somewhat like a miniature Berlin. The streets are broad and regular, and planted with ornamental trees, and it is rich in architectural Colonnade. Sans-Souci. decorations of the same general character as those of its more important neighbor. The great attraction of the town, however, is the Palace of Sans Souci, built in 174547, by Frederick the Great. The approach to the palace is by a broad avenue, through — gardens laid out in the formal French style of Louis Quatorze, with alleys, clipped hedges, statues, fountains, and grottos, all kept in perfect order. The building itself (see opposite page) stands at the top of a flight of terraces, so to speak; these terraces are fronted with glass, beneath which grow vines and olives and orange-trees, in the utmost luxuriance. The palace is quite devoid of archi- tectural beauty, a long, low building containing but one suite of apartments; from I A) ; | ‘ 4) | bY ni ml , Wi i) \ iit Kt , ! i : | , yy Ih et | | { : Hi . | WM 1 p | | | MW t MM ii} i } \ y i} i VAAN | | Mi Ii | WN ase | vA) (eee 1 | NN ea ee Mi lhl i Hal i } iy it = | | a dl ii | ii Mle 3 = al | | Mt} | ! IK ! WK : Ii i Wi | ; INI | \ | IN Ei Nh 4 I | HAI acd Wan | } HAAN + us| AAA Z MMII 12 ae eT a 100 ee a MN Ml becom ine Bg ! \ Mh | aI A TT zal "| Ni NY w AAAI! eit Hi =} Hi MIM | | NM | = Ml! ; ith! i AIA AL aii aM hi | 2 | Mihi i) AAS | = | MAI a WT hel = NV Bath WTA | ALATA Mi | =a aK Witt HH NAH AMIN | AN ‘Mn \ I MM Hi HAW 4 ill Ais ee i gs HAN il | ’ | = gs i \ Mi | i I ‘ | AN | | A al H | | Wh | Fiji ZA Zz | MK | A = y WET iat} Hh \ = WA \ ah A | ¥iiI i AAT e i I i | | IN i Ze ili iI | Hi! i HA ZA |e | NAT ! ee il Mil ] lhe oll : | ame HH i om (| j or es " ( ae | OK = i, 2 | k en I uu uC A | SANS-SOUCI. 384 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the grotesque alto-relievos with which it is profusely ornamented, and the gold letters of “Sans Souci,” which it bears on its fagade, the French frippery of Frederick’s — taste may be clearly inferred. The front of the building is towards the east, and commands a view of many objects of interest. In the rear there is a semicircular colonnade (see page 382), extremely interesting as being the place where the great- est monarch of his day was wont to pace to and fro for hours in the sunshine, when the failing health of his declining years incapacitated him for greater exertion. HO il I ua | | | = Ary ||| | ———————— H! == ath = “al Franciscan Cloister. Dantzic. The apartments of Sans Souci are by no means elegant ; the pictures are rather ordinary, and the furniture poor. In the small library, consisting solely of French books, is still seen, just as the monarch left it, his writing-table and inkstand, and in the adjoining apartment the visitor is shown the spot where the arm-chair stood in which he died. In short, the memory of Frederick the Great lingers about and pervades his favorite home, as though it were but yesterday that he paced the ter- race, as Dr. Zimmermann has described him, “his head covered with his well-worn plumed hat, his figure wrapped in a cloak of sky-blue satin, much besprinkled with brown Spanish snuff, and his legs incased in a pair of huge jack-boots.” SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 385 _ Verily it is with pleasure that we turn from the elegant modern aspect of Berlin and its suburbs to a city of the past, Dantzic, once a free city on Polish territory, at the time when the kingdom of Po- Jand extended from Hungary on the south, all the way to the Baltic shores. Not to say that Dantzic is solely a city of the past, for, with its seventy thousand inhabitants, and its enormous trade in grain and in timber, it is a commercial power of importance of the present day. But it has still, in spite of its modern improvements, many relics of the earlier time, in the form of fine specimens of antique architecture, which the town takes pride in preserving and restoring when they fall into decay. The origin of the old city is veiled in the poetic darkness of tradition. The Hdda narrates how, before the time of Christ, wandering colonies from the shores of the Black Sea made their way as far north as the amber-land, for so it was East Corridor. then known, from its earliest export, found- ing there a new Asgaard, which had the name of Gidania, called, in Polish, Gdansk, —hence, later, Danske, and Dantzic. And so in 997, when the Archbishop Adalbert of Prague visited the lower Vistula, on a missionary tour, he found near the mouth of the river this city Gidania, inhabited by a people of Germanic race, the city being regarded as the capital of East Pomerania, and, in political status, under the protection of the Dukes of Poland. Here the gospel was readily received, and even at that early day the German element asserted its intellectual supremacy over the Slavyie population around it. The town was long an apple of discord among the various powers of the north, —the Danes, the Swedes, and the Pomeranians; but however often changing its owner, and however many Slavic elements were contained in it, it still was and remained a German city. In 1310 it fell into the power of the Order of. Teutonic Knights, and became an important outpost of that organization against the heathen ; it developed suddenly its great resources, and from that time has been called the “Granary of the North.” To the hundred and forty-four years of rule of the Teu- tonic Knights, Dantzic owes, also, its characteristic beauty. Almost all the churches, 386 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. eates, and towers, whose pure Gothic architecture is the delight and the imitation of the best architects of to-day, are memorials of the Teutonic Order. But the tyranny of the Grand-Master was heavy, and the interests of trade pointed towards Polish connections, and the people of Dantzic drove out the Knights, and placed themselves, in 1454, under the rule of Casimir [V., king of Poland, with the condition of preserving their indepen- dence and the truly German character of their city. Dantzic now became what was called a “Free City,” having its own laws, coining its if own money,— stamped, it is true, with the it head of the Polish king,— and being rep- resented in Warsaw in the Assembly, and at the election of the kings. At times the city was mutinous, and would not agree in the election of some of the kings; but, on | the whole, their relations with Poland were harmonious enough for them to feel bitterly, German by race though they were, the change when, in 1793, they became, on the z = = dismemberment of Poland, a part of the Ger- Aap ue nen man kingdom of Prussia. The new affilia- tions were, however, so really the natural and true ones, that, though the immediate subjects of the change took it ill, a gen- eration later reconciled themselves to it completely, and the city of Dantzic is now one of the most loyal and enthusiastic in the new empire. The Franciscan Cloister, represented on pages 384-388, is one of the most ancient foundations in Dantzic. It had fallen so much into decay, having been a hospital in war times, and having been much injured by a great fire in 1857, that, ten years since, the stranger, exploring this old North German city, would scarcely have deemed it worthy of his notice. As early, however, as 1845, a German sculptor, Freitag, called to Dantzic as professor in a government school of art, discovered the ancient glories of the interior concealed under masses of ruins, and, encouraged by the late king, Frederick William IV., whose devotion to art is well known, made it his business to bring the people of the city to a knowledge of their duty in restoring a treasure so valuable to art. Several wealthy citizens interested themselves in this patriotic work, and it was commenced in 1867, in such good earnest, that the year 1871 brought it to com- lif ditt Wy i JRAWN BY CAPTY BATTY ENGRAVED BY.T.C-VARRALL. TIES ILTIBIETIAALMIR Gib. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 387 pletion. Without, the buildings appear very nearly the same as in the days of the Teutonic Knights who witnessed their first establishment early in the fifteenth century, and the installation there of the barefooted friars of the Franciscan Order. Within, they are in use to accommodate art-schools, galleries of painting and_ sculp- ture, and a public concert hall. In one respect, the exterior view is different now from what it was in the days of the Franciscan friars. No high walls and thick-growing hedges cut off the view into the courts and halls of the cloister. A handsome fence with plinths of masonry and cast-iron railings, imitating the old iron- work of the fifteenth century, opens its gates into trimly laid-out gardens, all lying clearly in view, and tempting the visitor to enter. The buildings lie adjacent to the fine old Trinitatis-Kirche, and form almost a perfect rectangle ; only the southeast corner, which contains the great chapter-house, extends for- Refectory. West Section. ward into the street, and the uniformity of its long south front, which looks upon the garden, is broken by a porch-house for the stairs. Gothic arched windows in the lower story; steep roofs with projecting dormer windows ; gables, not so beautiful, it is true, as the famous gables of the adjacent church, yet not out of keeping with them, are the outward characteristics of the entire structure. Stone steps,. with iron railings resting on heavy granite” balls, lead up to the main entrance, and over it is inscribed in Old German gilt letters: “City Museum, founded by Gottfried Klose and heirs, in the year 1871.” The great eastern corridor (page 385) is extremely imposing, with its pointed arched windows, once in part walled up but now suitably glazed in the old-fash- ioned style, through which a flood of light is poured upon the beautiful ceiling, bringing out its ornamentation in clear relief. Something of the Italian style is visi- ble in these corridors, due, perhaps, to Italian monks, who may have had a share im their decoration. Traces. of the use of color were plainly discernible in the walls and ceilings; and they have been restored in accordance with this fact, the most brilliant coloring being reserved for the little Refectory. The great Refectory (pages 386, 387) extends parallel with the southern corridor, 388 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. bem opening into it by an oaken door with carved Jeaf-ornamentation, imitated from the ; beautiful old gate leading from the cloister into the adjacent church, and its lock is an elegant piece of old Dantzic iron-work. The - vaulted roof of this refectory is in the best style of Gothic art, and so is the triple Gothic arch which divides the hall into a larger and smaller section. In the inner courtyard (here represented) a fountain sends up its sparkling jet, sur- rounded by flower-beds. In the northeast cor- ner of this courtyard, a tower with antique winding stairs, and a balcony with a stone balustrade, built against the church, unite the dwelling-house and studio of the painter Sy, the curator of the Museum, with the main building. Another fine old structure is the Hohe Thor (see below), the city gate, opening into the fortress. It is of sandstone, built = ® in 1588 and restored in 1861, as the in- Northeast Corner of Inner Courtyard. scription tells. Upon its richly ornamented front are three great armorial designs: that of Poland in the centre, those of Dant- zic and West Prussia at the right and _ left. : : = Passing under the lofty archway, we cross a little bridge over the moat, and so perceive ourselves to be in a stronghold, a wall on each side and a castle before us. The old maritime city is a fortress of the first rank; it has stood many a siege, but none more severe than those in the time of the Napoleonic wars. Another point of interest is the Town House (see page 390), with its fine tower like that of a church; and the Artushof, or Young Men’s Hall, where the young patricians of Dantzic held many a merry revel in the fifteenth and sixteenth cen- : turies. In front of the Artushof sparkles and laughs the fountain as it did then, but there is = now a Neptune with his trident, drawn by his pees Ads kph sea-horses, which is of much later date than the building of which it is an ornament, . . oe TTT | I pi l } War UN ( | wi aT Ts. | N i he mf iy 1) TOWN HALL. BRESLAU, 390 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Lamp-posts, too, the observer will detect, a contribution of the nineteenth century, far . eS from unwelcome in the long, dark nights of a northern winter. . Lastly, we observe the old Arsenal (see below), a peaceful-looking building, notwithstanding the statue of Minerva, and the numberless warlike em- blems that adorn its fagade. This building dates from the beginning of the seventeenth century, and, to the brickwork of the main structure, adds sand- stone for the setting of windows and doors, and for the abundant decoration of the entire front. Over its main entrance are the armorial bearings of the city : two white crosses, beneath a golden crown upon a red field, supported by two lions. Another important town in the eastern part == of the German empire is Breslau, the capital of Town Fiall, Dantzic. Silesia, and the second city in Prussia in point of population, haying 150,000 inhabitants. It is built on both banks of the Oder, which is crossed by an iron bridge. The old fortifications of the town, partially destroyed ° SSS —————— a seat, and has eight small, round (== —=——— : == — WRAL GARNESER windows in it. The interior of the JERE ONE. te Cheselibaer church is very splendid, having a remarkable altar-piece, from the pencil of Tisch- bein, and an organ of great size and sweetness of tone. In the new quarters of Hamburg the houses are like palaces ; all is neat, orderly, Salubrious, full of light and air, and resembles Paris or London. “Leaving the new quarter,” says Théophile Gautier, “I penetrated by degrees into the chaos of the old streets, and soon I had before my eyes a characteristic and picturesque Hamburg, a genuine old city with a medieval stamp that would rejoice the heart of an antiquary. ) “Houses, with denticulated gables, or gables curved in volutes, throw out suc- Cessive overhanging stories, each composed of a row of windows, or, more properly, one wide window divided into sections by carved mullions. Beneath each house 1s excayated a cellar, a subterranean recess, which the steps leading to the main entrance 400 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. bestride like a drawbridge. Wood, brick, stone, and slate, mingled in a way to enrapture a painter’s eye, cover what little space is left on the outside of the house between the windows. All this is surmounted by a roof of red or violet tiles, or of tarred plank, interrupted by apertures to give light to the attics, and pitched at an extremely steep angle. ‘These roofs have a fine effect against the background of ' a northern sky ; the rain runs off them in torrents ; the snow slips from them; they suit the climate, and need no sweeping in winter. “Signs and signboards are an attractive feature of the streets, A with their symbolic devices and in- Pag TN 8.) STO scriptions, detached from the wall and invading the sidewalk. Strict oF ISS 7 ~ a municipal regulations should, doubt- kh | less, forbid this projecting beyond V2 the alignment ; but it is an agree- SSeS / able interruption to the monotony, a FE (a32 = ( it 7 ] amuses the eye, and varies the | au = UE \ ) ' scene with a thousand unexpected incidents. Here we have a shield j| in glass of various colors, flashing in the sunshine with ruby, emerald, hr . . and topaz light: this announces an optician, or, in some cases, a con- fectioner. Here, suspended to a om a ma | Hi — Soe i iei|| great ornamental specimen of lock- smith’s work, is a lion, holding in one paw a compass, in the other a mallet, emblem of some guild of Canal in Hamburg. coopers. Hlsewhere are the copper basins of the barber, bright enough to make Mambrinus’ famous helmet look like verdigris ; boards on which are painted oysters, lobsters, herring, indicating the fish- dealer; and so on, indefinitely. “Walking along, still at random, I came to the maritime part of the city, where canals take the place of streets. At the moment it was low water, and vessels lay aground in the mud, careening over and showing their hulls in a way to delight a water-color painter. Soon the tide came up, and set everything in motion. I would S| HAA ATTY. LAWN BY CAPTY Bs DEI PIRI IVLAIR IKI IPILAC x , BLADE Wik Ger. 1k eo SCENES IN MANY LANDS. AOI 7 suggest Hamburg to artists following in the track of Guardi or Canaletto ; they will find here, at every step, new themes as picturesque as those they seek in Venice. “This forest of salmon-colored masts, with their maze of cordage, and their yel- lowish-brown sails drying in the sun; these tarred hulls and apple-green decks; these lateen-yards threatening the windows of neighboring houses; these derricks, standing under plank roofs shaped like pagodas; these tackles lifting heavy freight out of ves- ‘sels and landing it in houses; these bridges opening to give passage to craft of -eyery size; these clumps of trees; these gables, overtopped here and there by spires and belfries: all this bathed in’ smoke, traversed: by sunlight, and here and _ there giving back the glitter of polished metal; the far-off distance blue and misty, and the foreground full of vigorous color, — produced effects of the most brilliant and piquant novelty. A church-tower, covered with plates of copper, springing from this odd medley of rigging and houses, suggests, by its odd green color, the tower of Galata, at Constantinople.” Hamburg, Bremen, and Frankfort on the Main, have the proud distinction of re- maining free cities, forming each with its little territory a state of the Empire. Bre- men, the second in importance to Hamburg, lies on the banks of the Weser, thirty miles from its mouth, the new and old town lying on opposite banks, and connected by handsome bridges. The new contains many gardens and neat white houses ; the older portion consists of narrow streets, with many quaint medieval structures. Of these the most important are the Cathedral and the Town Hall, represented in the engraving facing page 406. The Cathedral is now devoted to the Lutheran form of worship, but was orig- inally built by the great Archbishop of Bremen and Hamburg, Adalbert, who, in the eleventh century, carried on for some time the administration of the empire, in con- junction with the Archbishop of Cologne, and at one time just missed his election to the papal throne. The original style of this building is Romanesque, but additions were later made to it in a style resembling the early English. Its tower is three hundred and twenty-four feet in height, and within the church there is a superb new organ, one of the finest in Germany; there are, also, fragments of a beautiful rood- loft, and there is a very curious old bronze font, supported by four antique figures riding on lions, and encircled with small bas-reliefs. The Town Hall, on the left in the engraving, is a really magnificent old speci- ‘men of the later Gothic and of the style of the Renaissance. The side facing the cathedral is the earlier portion, that looking into the square being built about 1610. Under the building is a famous wine-vault, where are casks named for the Twelve Apostles, containing wine, some of which is nearly two hundred years old. There are, also, beer cellars and a much-frequented restaurant. In the square stands one of the Roland columns, so numerous in northern Ger- 402 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. many. In the engraving is shown only the pillar against which stands the Roland, a figure eighteen feet high, with shield and drawn sword, facing the cathedral. This curious emblem of the town liberties and privileges was erected in 1412, to take the place of an earlier wooden column of extreme antiquity. It is believed that these columns were originally erected after the conversion of the Germans to Christianity, to take the place of the sacred trees, around which the Teutonic tribes were accus- tomed to assemble for civil and religious purposes. The entire territory of Bremen is a drained marsh, intersected by ditches and canals, and furnishing good pas- turage for cattle. It is in reality not a seaport, the depth of the river being insufficient; but Bremerhafen, at the mouth of the Weser, has an excel- lent harbor, and a very impor- tant trade with the United States and Great Britain ; it is inter- HH ins {UTES Shi esting specially to ourselves as the chief point whence German emigrants embark for the United States. Much older than Bremen, however, is Magdeburg, the cap- ital of the Prussian province of Saxony, a city which had the privileges of municipal exist- ence ever since Charlemagne. Luckless Magdeburg! so strong a fortress that the black storm- | cloud of war has ever gathered thickest around it. No siege is so memorable as that in 1631, when, after two years’ beleaguer- ment, the fierce Tilly carried it Interior of Cathedral. Magdeburg. by assault, and massacred men, women, and children, then burned nearly every house within the walls. The Cathedral, one of the noblest Gothic edifices in northern Germany, was built in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, taking the place of an older church erected by the Emperor Otho I. Within the choir of the cathedral (see illustration above) ti a ANI Wik \ \\ \ 10 TTT a (a ! l NS \ A } TH) Hes “ 2 ) mw AL ¢ (( ' | ail lf ) it His, Neha hs | nth I aM] = il ag een Sh = Se | i ll | | x ye ; ey 2 ney . hy A | “ ak Al : ~ me Ne ‘ im)’ | | ti @ a0 1 Se : . cell ——— = f ff (HS LING alk = IN; IN lil il i Cue ta EVEZIS Z DEA EIN 2a ae ab A oe i =a PEN K —- — a | = Es Yi i \ ee = lila t = | i ! ii : We ines | : “Wear il =a = (ear ney WH Len, \ ! ates i a (ati iit | it il = | = dl is i) ; ' {i | AMEN Ss QU I BT AM TSS) uu fy Ki fae. i) : | | a Pb a Teal SS vl FES SIAN pt or eH a hl 0) uni mal A ee) s) AP ae ne 8) Po ae FH Dy eT il SP i) Aare Her Peay: = } ti is ral OR tit of i SUMNER ti Lp al 2) '4 i) i) tt T SC i bul N| k j i Hl i i HY gator ua UU PLANMANUTL y ) =§ ay Mant za / ia Ki ; . li i (@ jy a Gr en an we 7 | miami vee if Memes hp f) \ : a 4 | it ats ies) ee ml i a oy like tH LN . mh } tn - z ws | iia lil va ; Il Oh At a a j | | WN ai I yes a ‘ (Sd i an i i woo? cal é |) Seat ae Tine Zee) | Ve] tule a : Ri 6 pu mm =a Gan este ee = ae = has uy Drs \ = SS > a SAN le In) ae 2M = eo ae r i He . re —=S ps a aes = a SS —— = == i i ua a = === : =: =— SSS = —— 4 SSS ote 2 —<— SSS ————— =— ; = Se SSS a —- Eg ap Ed = ; ———— =e ——=— een =A oS SS ee ee TOWN HALL. HALBERSTADT. 1042 3 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. In this cathedral the horse-shoe arches are of remarkable elegance. There is also a stone rood-loft, begun in 1443, rich with carved foliage and other ornaments; a a famous alabaster pulpit, sadly mutilated at the time when the French turned this noble building into a warehouse and a stable, but still testifying to the genius and skill of its designer, Sebastian Extel. 5 ? i a S77 " alia | == We i = toy } = = vil) ——— Sill Wa 7 2 = == = il 4 I ( : op. Ae ; s i i f ; ) eet ) C Hl é qa 4 ( = gf \A | | i h =I 5 I= hi I lll ib ® s ar a a Set ts eI 98 ene a | = “tr a | JS; fi = iG) ae io de —— Mie aN oe | = - Hala He Sw) “2 = 4) | | it hp Ly 7 : = a = Nilicce cag gle Bl rae J ==" yey f N Zi Vp i A \ ¥ ti i ave 7 if i e Hi ye Shy = i : > a Pile! mAh <= 5 2 : aa EB ue Pa rE \ | , " i ss int y! | = a =< Ne he i e li \ ty oa § F 3 = PS ii i 1 em Vis c= a | i b: ile z § fi, ¥ 4 7 A 1 a = . ——= : = i Cloister of Cathedral. Halberstadt. { J Fifty miles by rail from Magdeburg brings the traveller to Halberstadt, the e | trance to the Hartz region. This range of hills, the most northerly in Germany, about seventy miles long, and from twenty to twenty-eight in width. Rising out of the level plain which comprises all northern Germany, its elevation and importance is certainly exaggerated, for its highest summit is less than four thousand feet abov: ars ee a eg yl Oe ES Pe Se ie ee Te hey oe a ae” F ; tk i AAT | nf) 6 Ally i ea ff La i a i ) i) ul 1 i Ny i ll ————————————— ey 2 LST 008A W. Y =——— CATHEDRAL. HALBERSTADT. 406 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the sea-level ; yet so much romantic interest centres about it that it well repays a careful and deliberate survey. Ne town in Germany has more fascinating old buildings than Halberstadt. Some of the dwelling-houses are real masterpieces of wood-carving. Caryatides and gar- goyles have outlines so grotesque that it is quite a study to trace out the design, — The Town Hall (see page 403) is a most picturesque union of different styles, the leading idea being Gothic. The facade shown in the illustration has a truly re- markable originality in its decoration. Along the lower gallery are carved three grimacing heads of giant size, and when the night is still, the traveller, watching them in the moonlight, can hardly divest himself of the idea that he may at any moment hear as well as see the sardonic laughter of these stony mouths. Church. Quedlinburg. Other grotesque figures adorn the architectural outlines ; in the centre are the city arms, and on a higher line are three more shields of unknown origin. A few steps from the Town Hall is the Cathedral (see page 405), dominat- ing all the busy quarter of the town. It is a beautiful church, worthy to be ranked among the finest, although one of the least known, in northern Germany. It belongs to the German Gothic style of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. The interior is especially worthy of study. Its aspect is imposing, and its main outlines have much grandeur. The sombre tone of the general coloring gives effect and emphasis to the details which are brought forward into daylight. The most’ important feature is the stone gallery or tribune separating the chancel from the rest of the church (see preceding page). Around the nave are some very curious tombs, with won- ‘ ENGRAVED BY J, GODDEN. DRAWN BY CAPT BATTY. WOW IN TAIL , 1B RIAA , “VEE SCENES IV MANY LANDS. 407 - derful lace-work in stone. There are also baptismal fonts of high antiquity ; the remains of a Gothic sacrament-house of remarkable interest; two very ancient cande. labra of colossal size; and the monument of a margrave of Brandenburg, dated 1558. ___ ~*The primitive cathedral was constructed by Charlemagne, and destroyed in the twelfth century by Henry the Lion, Duke of Saxony and Bavaria, who besieged the city, and took it by storm, and destroying four monasteries and several churches. m ~ ni ky a :, Yi ag wae Ny Neste iy peat iN Jn bye) Castle of Regenstein. In former times one might go from Halberstadt to Quedlinburg in two hours by carriage ; now, by rail, it takes longer, and impatient travellers aver there is not on the face of the earth so slow a train as that between these two little German cities. In Quedlinburg, the chief attraction to the visitor is a very ancient church with a crypt of much antiquity (see opposite page) under the castle, This part of the 408 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. structure dates from the tenth century. The capitals of the columns are of rare richness of design. Before an ancient altar are the tombs of Henry the Fowler, and the Empress Matilda, protectress of the convent, who retired thither after her hus- band’s death. Here also are interred the abbesses of Quedlinburg, and the mortal re- mains of the fair Aurora von K®énigsmark, mother of Marshal Saxe. In the neighborhood of Quedlinburg are many picturesque views, and the gen-. eral aspect of the country is animated and gay. A few miles distant is the Castle of Falkenstein (see engraving opposite), which stands on the top of a high, narrow ledge of rock, overlooking a beautiful valley. More romantic are the ruins of Regenstein, perched on the summit of a steep rock (see page 407) which rises three hundred feet above the plain, the gray rock and the gray ruin blending into one uniform tint, over and around which is lavished all the luxuriance of German wild flowers. According to tradition, a castle was erected originally on this spot by the Saxons, in the latter part of the fifth century, and some fragments of that early structure and the rock-hewn cells and passages under- neath it, are to this day shown the visitor. The eastern part of the Hartz region is a beautiful country, rich in flowers and = % ACR CRE : mee ISU ES Re hag fi ROA \ rc { " tay sigh . At ee OA a pee Sy, 4% IW . ath BIN S71 ai: a i y ALTE bel <1 of! bi =) aa i. © 18} Kf) CAS “Wiel CAPT* BATTY, DRAWN BY “SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 409 full of life. It is a magnificent park abounding in venerable oaks, beeches slim and tall, birches with their silvery bark, lofty elms, and sombre firs. Here, one comes to some friendly mill, some hamlet hidden amid its orchards, some picturesque ruin oyergrown with moss and ivy, and crowned with a waving garland of wild flowers ~The same cheerfulness extends to the dwellers in this tranquil Eden ; men and women and children greet the passer-by with friendly word and gesture, and look into his ‘face with honest untroubled eyes. In the upper or western region, all is different. The road leads through gloomy The Devil’s Bridge in the Bode Valley. pine-woods, and over decaying logs and faded mosses. It is rare to see a cultivated field or a fruit-tree. Occasionally a charcoal-burner, or a wood-cutter, passes, his long pole or his axe upon his shoulder. In the immediate neighborhood of the villages the scene is more animated; shepherds with their flocks of sheep are seen, the coal- carrier, and, now and then, the miner, with his pale and serious face. Almost a thousand years ago the extraordinary mineral treasures of the Hartz were discovered, and yet the hard-working people remain poor. The vapors of arsenic and lead to which they are exposed impair their health, and the extreme heat of the smelting furnaces, whose fire is never extinguished, seems to waste and wither them like the _ breath of a sirocco. 410 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. deep cleft with irregular, rocky walls, through which runs the sparkling little rive = rd We follow it, however, along the cliff, looking down where, eight hundred feet below, the waters foam and dash, and tiny cascades leap from one side or the other to swell the hurrying stream. And here begin the legends of the Hartz. The irreg- ular rocky pinnacles rising in the background over the Pool in the Bode Valley (see page 409) are two of the Seven Brothers, English lovers of seven maidens of the land. The lovers were changed to stone, when they came to wed and bear away thei promised brides, by a powerful magician whom seven slighted German lovers of the same maidens had enlisted to revenge their injury. The magician waylaid the Eng- lish brothers by night, as they were making their escape with their brides, and slew them, and carried the maidens back to their castle, whence, escaping again at early wh hi fh Pay THE WITCHES’ BALL ROOM. . 412 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. morning, the seven afflicted fair ones found, where their lovers had been left dead upon the grass, seven tall cliffs rismg high into the air. One wonders how each maiden knew her own,— possibly, among lovers changed to stone one is as good as another, — but in some way each made her choice, and, sitting down at his feet, wept night SES LS ROGAN = Hermit’s Rocks. and morning till she wept herself away into a little crystal spring ; and so remains there to this day. The road by which we follow the river widens further on, and we come out upon rude granite masses piled irregularly one upon another like stairs, till, reach- ing the summit, the guide points out a print in the rock shaped like a horse-shoe Ty. DRAWN BY CAPTY B _ SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 413 ‘she landed where her giant steed left in the rock the impress of his hoof. She fleeing from a demon lover, using the horse he had given her himself as aid q in ‘the flight; and though this seems hardly fair, we find she had good luck, and reached her human lover safely, and was happy ever after. - “hee \ Over across is the Witches’ Ballroom. Having no enchanted horse on which to _ make the leap, the traveller must go down the nearly perpendicular cliff by a wind- ing path leading to the bottom ‘of the ravine, thence crossing from rock to rock a , nd of natural bridge, ascend on the other side, by a kind of rude staircase of The Monk. landscape of the Bode Valley, and on the other the vast plain which stretches illim- - itably towards the west. This is a peculiarity of the Lower Hartz region, to pre- sent at once the wildest scenery and the most monotonous. A great variety of singularly-shaped rocks attract the eye, and have been objects } f of awe-struck admiration to the peasantry, no doubt, ever since the land was inhabited. ee: ames are given them in memorial of their connection with scenes of witchcraft : ' “The Deyil’s Chair,” “The Sorcerer’s Altar,’ and the like. Less sinister are names ~ attached to those represented on pages 412 and 413: “The Hermit’s Rocks,” and “The y onk,” though it may be they perpetuate the fate of some luckless anchorite or . -ecclesiastic, whose curiosity bringing him too near the scene of evil, he was changed “ to stone as a punishment for the crime. 414 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. i | From the height of the Witches’ Ballroom, far away to the west, is seen the Brocken, in its misty veil, attracting us even by daylight with a kind of supernat. ural fascination. Thither we direct our course, not as the witches go, however, but by a good carriage road down to the highway, aad thence to Wernigerode, the most favorable point of departure for the mountain. r= i ———_——— i——*4 — — = — = —= = = = — — = x = = = = = — — or = ———— == = = == = SSS = —— =f | | | il | | | iil ill il | | ral AM =f 4 == y — Ty — Witan NA HHA a i i | X BN ea a = a Tw fille 4 | \ = \ 1 iN 1h < | i! So — i i i il i i lal E = an : : i el ee =I ie, r = HE bl a = a mate FA s. " i i ied A = \apg n= * Hai ri == =} eat a | an ee rie | | 1 @ WAM E | N =| TTT Lon Tag na in ——_ i — iH i ull Mecca fe Memeo oe ee) me GR VR Ae zat gata fe 5 = i : i Wei | =o i LOM oy ey , =o wy = = = === = = = : a \ ' ! T i t ———— = = SS | SS — = ¥ ———s = = =. — =z ————— — aes ——— —— BE ASTROBAN 7, == == : sae 6 "Rb; 0. Mee a= | ALS f ON yi t if i i ih i a) i i iy i { hee t's Ney Ae NS Z a ah iy 47, Wg! ; Tie rit : g v Engraved by Py 8 wok = he a aa (SCENES IN ‘MANY LANDS. | Al? 7" at ‘Hie ores are Peeeaily extracted from it. A f ow miles west of the Hartz country flows the Weser, in comparison with the ne and | the Danube a somewhat prosaic river, yet not without its quaint legends here > and there, its lovely landscape. For legend, take Hameln (see engraving cing page 416). It is a curious old place, full of wooden houses in the old Ger- un style, | and has one fine chureh, now falling into ruin. The place was once a ng’ fortress, but the works were destroyed by the French in 1808, and now the over the river is laid out in public walks, and has a grotto celebrated for its As for its legend, who does not know Browning’s ballad, — “ Hameln town’s in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city ; The river Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side, A pleasanter spot you never spied. But when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see the townsfolk suffer so From vermin, ’twas a pity.” Rats ! They fought the dogs, and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, — And licked the soup from the cook’s own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women’s chats By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats ;” e es = aa 4 mdb Dw appeared to mayor and corporation, : as they sat despairing around the council- able, tl os he ance figure in quaint attire, who looked — ak “...as my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone, Had walked this way from his painted tomb-stone ;” who ) said that for a thousand guilders he would free their town from rats. ee ss oes ae - > a ashes ng “Fe us > y * 4” Me See ve ar OU at eae _ 7). & , @ fo eh tes eo a Soe ee es | : ie ” . ¥ aoe it ~~ < Ps i Zt > IE car # ¢ Pes) E + . af ‘ $474 man f Fy a _— "= -~ 418 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. = Which having done he asked his reward, and was scornfully denied it, and ‘so tool his revenge instead, playing such entrancing music on his pipe, that, as before the rats had followed him into the Weser, where they were all drowned, now the chil- dren followed him: — “ All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music, with shouting and laughter.” Ah) then and there was direful panic in Hameln city, and — “The mayor was dumb, and the council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry To the children merrily skipping by, — And could only follow with the eye That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back. But how the mayor was on the rack, . And the wretched council’s bosoms beat, As the Piper turned from the high street, To where the Weser rolled its waters Right in the way of their sons and daughters! However, he turned from south to west, And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, And after him the children pressed ; Great was the joy in every breast. ‘He never can cross that mighty top! He’s forced to let the piping drop, And we shall see our children stop.’ When, lo! as they reached the mountain side, A wondrous portal opened wide, As if a cavern were suddenly hollowed; And the Piper advanced, and the children followed ; And when all were in to the very last, The door in the mountain side shut fast.” ds For scenery on the Weser observe the Porta Westphalica (see engraving facing page 420), the river’s passage from the Westphalian plain into the great plain of Northern Germany, through a wide rift in the undulating chain of mountains called the Siebengebirge. The two hills which form the sides of this gateway, at their base show rocks of red sandstone, their sides and summits being covered with 1 ! i ill ia al Ni] SO NM — SS} = ——————— = = SS ————— = = ss The Thorstein Rocks. admirable hospitality, the Wartburg has sheltered by turns the purest embodiment of Roman Catholic mysticism and the vigorous athlete of German Protestant faith. It has been the shrine of one Christian belief, and the cradle of another, differing in externals, | Ni I i CATHEDRAL ERFURT. 426 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. yet, one cannot doubt, alike in the vital centre of faith in God and loyal obedience ‘to Him. . The chamber in which Luther lived is shown us (page 421), and no one can fail to . f be deeply moved by the associations that haunt the spot. Here this great man dwelt alone for nearly a year, and though it be true that the ink-stain on the wall tells of the momentary hallucination which brought before his eyes in visible form the image of the great adversary of mankind, it is no less true that from out these four walls came not alone the German language fixed for all time by that peerless translation of the Bible, but a whole propaganda of religious liberty whose last word has not yet been spoken, nor whose last truth reached. Still another association makes venerable the old castle of the Wartburg. = 22 J *Y > a | we NEOs eee : : oi ge = a Ff 3 pe. Z i : a a l y l i i ‘ ~ > «i cll i | : i" uh Ft \ > 3 I } <4 ifs ye i : l ca r We ni S ae = (hea | the =e] Zhe 3 ae = j i Pate «7 Ge a : “ ear SI fy Zh LT CS eee ae : ie, 1 ae eae ee : s | | Sage See = as : : na er om iy iN : = 13 MN f hs - ayes 3 ! aa ) ee oe es 5 re ma a / — inl ty) ir j 8 ial = te Se | = = = l I 6 2 d — == = 7 Goethe’s Promenade. Weimar. to the eighteenth century, it was one of the Hanse towns, and the centre of traffic of a great part of Europe, lying, as it did, on the great commercial highway between -Dantzic and Lubeck on the north, and the Italian cities on the south, At Erfurt, * =. > 428 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. } + in 1807, was held Napoleon’s famous Congress of Sovereigns. There was, likewist a university at Erfurt until 1816, at which time it was suppressed. a’ Here we again meet memorials of Luther, for it was in the Augustine monas- tery of Erfurt that the reformer took his vows as monk in 1505, and here spent several years of his life. The Cathedral (page 425), which stands on an eminence, is a noble Gothic building of which the foundation dates to the time of St. Boni- face, the first apostle to Thuringia, as early, that is to say, as the middle of the eighth century. The original church being of wood, all that remains of ‘it are nS few stones of the foundation, buried deep under-ground. 3 The chief feature of the church is the choir, wider than the central aisle of ' the nave, and not on a line with it. The nave, built in 1472, has side aisles wider. than the centre, and is partly separated from the choir by two stately towers of he twelfth century. In the north one hangs a famous bell, “Big Susanna,” weighing | over ten tons, highly ornamented, and dated 1447. The north portal, which leads into the transept, has a beautiful triangular porch much adorned with statues, reliefs, and tracery. 4 The building at the right with three spires is the Church of St. Severus, co n= taining a remarkable carving in high relief of the Archangel Michael, and a richly decorated font, an example of a remarkable kind of tracery bearing date 1467. — The next station on the railway is Weimar, a dull-looking provincial town. It is the capital of the duchy, but this adds nothing to its interest now. All there is in Weimar attracting the traveller is the memory of the brilliant circle of men of genius who were gathered here during the last half of the eighteenth century, around their patron and admirer, Karl August. After all, to the orand-duke’s mother, M ria, belongs the honor of founding this magnificent coterie. A duchess of Brunsy by birth, she married and came to Weimar in 1756. Being left a widow two years later, she found solace in the pursuits of literature, and trained her boy, the yo ng grand-duke, to love it too. Thanks to the noble minds she had the art of attract ing to her unpretending court, the youth escaped from the rather coarse tastes ol his race and time, and intellectual occupations grew to be a second nature to. him During the first ten years of his personal rule, the men of letters who surroul him were called to share in many amusements not quite literary in their charai e But from 1785 began the veritable “age of gold” for Weimar, the period of the creation of those wonderful works which have made the little grand-duchy the lit- erary centre of the great German nation. But, alas! all human grandeur has its decline. Herder died in 1803, Schiller in 1805; eight years later it was the t m 0 Wieland ; Goethe remained till the last, and then he too disappeared from earth CASTLE. Wit x ii | OF COBURG. ave) | I jl : bg i i i if ¢ f op Ai) {it Hi Ae l i i i H A ay i i laa q " al 430 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. The last city of Thuringia which claims our notice is Coburg, on the Franeo- rts)... - | eT ol A ® ° . a a | nian border. It is a prosperous little place, whose cheerfulness amounts to a proverb, — and yet the charm is not in the city itself so much as in its neighborhood, althougt the streets are neat, and the houses handsome, (see above). But there is nothin SCENES [IN MANY LANDS. 431] “more graceful and radiant than these picturesque environs, where so many artistic | lives have been spent. Amid these pastoral surroundings, Jean Paul composed some of his most famous works, notably the Titan and the Flegeljahre. . i The old fortress, standing five hundred feet above the town, is the chief attrac- “tion to the visitor. The road which leads up to it is a beautiful avenue of stately | “trees. But the finest point about the castle is the view seen from the crenellated plat- —e ‘ . ae eo 4, ey - ~—- Ra ~ gs y Bamberg. 4 Ag ’ form of the old donjon. One could linger there for hours, his eyes fixed on the blue - mountainous: line of the horizon. Again we are reminded of Luther, who was in con- _ cealment: here in 1530. His rooms are shown with the same furniture they had in his time, and the pulpit from which he preached, in the curious old chapel. A room, ~ panelled with oak inlaid with woods of various kinds, is much admired. There is a fine show of old armor, and mementos of Wallenstein’s siege, in 1632. ” r | : Te a 432 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. One more of the old German cities we shall visit, on our southward way in 7 Switzerland: this is Bamberg, the capital of the little ecclesiastical principality ee the same name. It has but one edifice of any note, but that enjoys the distinction of ranking with the finest church architecture of Germany. It is a noble structure of the Roman- esque style, built by the Emperor Henry IT., 1004-1012; but destroyed by fire, except the east end (seen in the illustration page 431), and rebuilt in 1100. This ancient apse has very fine clustered columns, united in a manner unusual in Germany, and with its elegant cornices and drip-stones, and circular doors, has great beauty and grace. The Emperor Henry II. is buried here, and so also is Pope Clement II., who had been Bishop of Bamberg. No work of King Louis of Bavaria was ever more judi- cious, or should be more commended by lovers of art, than his thorough and faithful restoration of this grand old church. i Hi | i 4 i Sly ‘a By MH Zz ‘| | i i ‘ jj i Ki i di SARGENT, s ee DEUAGAARUER'B SCENES INV MANY LANDS. 433 DOWN THE RHINE. ICTOR HUGO remarks: Of all rivers I love the Rhine. It is a noble stream, worthy of the great nations to whom it has belonged. It unites all charms: it is rapid like the Rhone, broad as the Loire, tortuous as the Seine, royal like the Dannbe, historic as the Tiber, mysterious as the Nile, flecked with gold like an American river, overhung with fables and phantoms like a river of Asia. Before history begins, — perhaps before man existed, — where now the Rhine flows, smoked and blazed a double row of volca- noes, which have left behind them two heaps of lava and basalt, in parallel rows like two enormous walls. Through this great road the Rhine found its way to the sea, and, how early we know not, the great family of Celts or Gauls made their home upon its banks. Centuries passed away, and Julius Cesar came: Drusus built his fifty forts; Agrippa established his colony: the Rhine belonged to Rome. The colonial period came to its close amid the storm of barbarian incursions, and the Rhenish hill-tops were crowded with Roman ruins in the sixth century, as to-day they are with the dilapidated castles belonging to the feudal period. These ruins Charlemagne restored, rebuilt these fortresses, and garrisoned them against the old German tribes gathering themselves together under new names, but with the same spirit which led their forefathers to the destruction of Rome: at May- ence he built a bridge whose ruins are yet to be seen under the water; he re- paired an aqueduct at Borm, and the Roman road at Bacharach and other towns. After Charlemagne, followed a period in which civilization seemed to be extinct; his- tory was effaced; the men and events of this dark age traverse the Rhine like shadows, throwing upon its water faint luminous images, which vanish as soon as seen. The historic period is followed by the legendary period, —for the human imagination, like nature, abhors a vacuum. Silence human yoices, and nature sets all the birds chattering, makes the leaves rustle on the trees, and the infinite voices of solitude 434 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. . murmur from eyery recess of the woodland. Let historic certainty cease, and the imagination endows with life, shadows, dreams, and visions. Fables increase and thrive in the gaps of broken history, like wild vegetation in a ruined palace. At once sprung up on the banks of the Rhine a whole world of legends and fables. Where some faint rays of dawning civilization shone, a thousand charming figures started into life; in the gloomy depths there were hideous forms and terrific phantoms. ‘Then, — while-uprose beside the Roman ruins which are now utterly gone, the Gothic and Saxon castles which are now dismantled,—a crowd of imagi- nary beings, in direct communication with the fair maidens and handsome knights of the day, filled all the valley of the Rhine. There were oreads, who dwelt in the woods; undines, who inhabited the waters; gnomes, who lived under the earth; the spirit of the rocks; the black huntsman who swept through the forests mounted upon a gigantic stag; the maiden of the black marsh; the six maidens of the red marsh; Wodan, the ten-handed divinity; the bearded Everard, who gave advice to wandering princes; the horned Siegfried, who destroyed dragons in their caves. The devil set up his stone at Teufelstein and his ladder at Teufelsleiter ; he went so far as to preach at Gernsbach, near the Black Forest; but happily, on the other side of the river, opposite the Devil’s Pulpit, celestial hands erected the Pulpit of the Angel. While the Seven Mountains, that great extinct crater, was filled with monsters, hy- dras, and gigantic spectres, at the other extremity of the chain, at the entrance to the Rhine valley, the sharp wind from the Wisper used to bring clouds of old fairies no bigger than grasshoppers. Among the chimeras of this early period now and then appear real figures of flesh and blood, chiefly Charlemagne and Roland, and later, the Eniperor Otho, Frederick Barbarossa, and Adolph of Nassau. These historic figures mingle in the fairy tales of the time; it is the tradition of real events persisting under the mass of dreams and fan- cies; it is history vaguely shining through fable; it is the ruin appearing here and there under the flowers. Presently shadows disappear, fairy tales cease, daylight is over all the land, civili- zation and history again take shape. And now we have the electoral princes, who make at their will the German emperor; and prince-bishops, who mingle in war and politics, who dabble in alchemy, and are worldly-minded as any secular prince of them all. And the Rhine takes an aspect at once military and religious. Abbeys and convents multiply ; churches half-way up the hill-side unite the village lying below with the feudal donjon on the crest,—a fit image of the priest’s true place in human life. The ecclesiastical princes multiply edifices in the Rhine valley, as once the Roman prefects did. The Archbishop Baldwin of Treves builds the church of Oberwesel; the Archbishop Henry of Wittingen constructs a bridge at Coblenz over the Moselle; the Archbishop Walram of Juliers sanctifies by a magnificent cross of A Me | pea FAN 5077) Mi Hi) My y i} 6 MAL VA awa im it ae Il TON TS RIGD Gl NOD DIL CIBCIE: mye) THOR. OPPEIR IRWIN. As. «ie SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 435 carved stone the Roman ruins and the volcanic cone of Godesburg, a region until then much suspected of witchcraft. At the same time the Orders of Chivalry took up their positions along the Rhine: the Teutonic Order was installed at Mayence ; the Knights of Rhodes possessed Martinshof; the Templars occupied Boppart and St. Goar on the banks of the Rhine, and Trarbach between the Rhine and the Moselle. Commerce, too, established her colonies; a crowd of little cities grew up at the con- fluence of all the lesser streams which pour themselves into the Rhine, —in imitation of Coblenz, at the mouth of the Moselle, and Mayence at the mouth of the Main. What the Rhine has been in later times as the boundary and scene of conten- tion between Germans and French, all know. Having thus glanced at its history, let us look at it from the geographical point of view. In its earliest stages, the Rhine consists of three branches, the Fore, the Middle, and the Back Rhine, and in these branches absorbs nearly all the drainage of the northern basin of the Alps. Hach rises in a dreary region of ice-clad rocks and steel-blue glaciers, several thousand feet above the sea. In the preceding engraving we have represented two of the earliest bridges which span the infant stream: that over the Fore Rhine being only noteworthy as the first stone bridge which crosses it; that over the Back Rhine being one of the three famous bridges of the Via Mala, and worthy of more extended notice. The defile is some three miles in length, and cleaves an enormous mountain ridge which lies across the river’s way, and perhaps once held it confined as a lake. The precipices which tower above it rise in some places to a height of sixteen hun- dred feet, and are at some points not more than ten yards apart. The Rhine, crowded into this narrow space, is barely audible, so far below is it, although it rushes and foams madly in its rapid course. The rocks of slate and limestone composing the walls of this ravine are so hard that the weather has produced almost no effect upon them; the fracture is fresh and sharp enough to suggest the thought that if the chasm were closed up by some great convulsion of nature similar to that which dis- united the two sides, they would match together again, and leave not even a seam on the surface of the ground to show where they had been thrust asunder. In ancient times the defile was regarded as inaccessible for human foot, and the peasants were accustomed to make a long detour in passing around it. In 1470, a road was laid out, passing through a portion of the Via Mala, but avoiding the more danger- ous section of it. In the present century, however, the new road, as seen in the engraving, has been engineered by an Italian, Pocobelli, and the three bridges built by which the road crosses from side to side, as one rocky wall or the other offered a little better opportunity for it. At one point a projecting buttress of rock has been pierced by a tunnel two hundred and sixteen feet in length, and for more than 436 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. a thousand feet the road is carried along beneath a sort of stone canopy, ie it was necessary all the way to blast the rock for a foothold. ~ The Middle Bridge, at a height of four hundred feet above the water, affords the most magnificent view of this tremendous ravine, and is itself a picture of graceful. ness and elegance, spanning with its light arch the black gulf below. About a hundred miles from its glacier sources, the Little Rhine, only about two 1 Yah ) N | | | i at) SSS = sh TI 7 i Its 5 i ‘ U | : : — = } } | as; 3 =—— | Hi ] ee Trt I : r UT ——— a | Ss a ay ‘i SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 449 neighborhood used them in his turn as material for building a castle, which was blown up three hundred years later, leaving only the donjon. This tower, which is ninety feet high, is a picturesque feature in the landscape, but has its special merit as an observatory, commanding a view of the whole range of the Siebengebirge, all whose summits are crowned with mouldering castles and ruined towers. From this point, too, we look towards the famous High Cross, in the environs of Bonn, that famous centre of modern learning. This is a monument of Gothic construction, thirty-six feet high, erected, the chronicles of Cologne assert, by Archbishop Wolfram of Juliers, with stones brought from the Drachenfels, to com- memorate the completion of the choir of the cathedral of that city. Another tradi- tion asserts that it was set up by a baron of Hochkirchen, as expiation for a duel. And it is also said to have been the ancient market-place of Bonn. But the for- mer of these accounts seems to be the most authentic. Bonn itself, the last town of importance before we reach Cologne, might tempt us with its old cathedral and electoral palace; but having in mind our limitation, we will not linger, but follow the broadening river,— whose path is now grown dull in comparison with its earlier picturesqueness,—to where a group of towers, masts, and walls, seeming to rise out of the water, announce Cologne. And now, what shall we say of the great city of the Rhine, by far the largest and the most important of the many which grace its shores? A few figures may help design the outlines of the picture. Cologne has a population of about a hundred and thirty thousand souls. It is built in the shape of a crescent and strongly fortified, being enclosed with walls about seven miles in circuit. Its garrison consists of seven thousand men. It has twenty churches, nineteen gates, thirty-three public squares, and two hundred and seventy streets. ©The destiny of cities,’ says a French author, “is peculiar. A colony of Ubii, settled on the right bank of the Rhine, being unable successfully to oppose the in- cursions of their predatory neighbors, sought the assistance of Rome. Marcus Agrippa proposed to them to cross the river, and opened to them the asylum of the Roman camp. This change decided the course of history. The right bank of the river fell under the occupation of barbarous tribes, and possessed for ages neither towns nor commerce, nor any settled social life: the left touched at every point upon Roman Gaul, then in the full flush of civilization. Glance at the map, and you will see that nearly all the important cities of the Rhine are on its left bank.” A few years later a daughter was born to the Roman general Germanicus, in this Ubian camp, or city,— for the words are almost of the same significance applied to the rude fortified villages of those times. The child was named Agrippina, —too well known in history as the mother of Nero,—and the Ubii paid their general the politic ns ‘ 450 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. compliment of naming their town after her—Colonia Agrippina. The second word vanished in time, and the city of medizval and of modern times remains Colonia, or Cologne. Who shall tell the long story of war and violence, of siege, of rapine and plun- der, which makes the early history of Cologne? In 1212, it had passed through its worst storms, and was a leading member of the Hanseatic League, able to put into the field and maintain an army of thirty thousand soldiers. During the same cen- tury it attained extraordinary commercial privileges, and by the close of the fifteenth century had reached the climax of its greatness. At this time the discoveries of Portu- guese and Spanish navigators opened new channels to trade, and the same causes that destroyed Ratisbon and Augsburg and other trading centres, brought also the down- fall of Cologne. The city was ravaged by incessant civil commotions; the Jews were cruelly persecuted ; the skilful Protestant weavers banished; at one time seventeen hundred looms were burned in the public streets. Finally, as if to complete its destruction, the Dutch, in the sixteenth century, closed the navigation of the Rhine, which was not opened again till 1837. In 1794, Cologne French. They held it for twenty years, during which time the convents were secu- at that time a free city of the empire — was captured by the larized, many churches shut up, and workshops opened for the poor. Then the Peace of Paris gave it over to Prussia, and it has since remained a German city, thriving: more and more every year, as the steamboat navigation of the Rhine and the numer- ous lines of railway centring at Cologne have given new impetus to its industry and commerce. Can it be called a handsome city? By no means. It has all the disadvan- tages of the medieval period, and none of its beauty. “It is muddy, irregular, dark, ill laid out, ill-paved. Seen from the river, its aspect is pleasant, but all the fair- ness vanishes as you lose yourself in its labyrinthine streets. But it has its Cathe- dral, a priceless gem, which, if it were finished, would have no equal in the world. The building is discrowned, or rather, it has never had its crown. It has neither spire nor towers. What its plan designs may be seen in the illustration on the opposite page. On the platform of one of the towers rises the black outline of the symbolic derrick which from time immemorial has awaited here the new material that never comes. Fifty years ago the Cathedral was absolutely in ruins. The Revolution had used it for a storehouse of hay and grain. The Empire was no more respectful. At last the ravages of time, which were added to those of man, remaining unrepaired for centuries, the general decay and dilapidation of the whole building inspired serious fears for the solidity of the portion already completed. The roof began to give way. A sum of forty thousand francs asked for the restoration of the building was refused i ins % SCENES INV MANY LANDS. 451 by Napoleon. The French bishop of Aix-la-Chapelle went so far as to congratulate the people of Cologne that they possessed so fine a Gothic ruin! When, after the events of 1814, Cologne was restored to Germany, a voice was raised in behalf of its Cathedral in the Mercure du Rhin, but no one listened to it. i (<= T x ae ayy rs y a : MB i 21] TE | i hl ae mh LN VM Lh a Vi) Sal BH meena Ary a iar ry + z et, y |} 7) ii 1} < Nay | | ae i { Ny m1 i | | ‘4 Ne Hae | a if if 1} ; iN, Vir "4 AMG POR DPA OO | y si Here | ea " iar A 5 i) WA y “y . | | i The Cathedral of Cologne. At last an accident brought men to their senses. The old derrick, which, from the top of the tower, had called in vain on generation after generation to complete the work of their forefathers, fell to the ground in a storm. The people of the town eg | b 452 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. =| were shocked, and they voted the necessary funds to supply a new one. At this time, the same Frederick William IV. who restored Stolzenfels chanced to visit Cologne, and he at once conceived the warmest interest in the grand old edifice. During the next twenty years about three hundred thousand dollars were furnished from the Prussian treasury for the most urgent repairs, and a society was formed for the maintenance and completion of the structure. The king promised an annual subscrip- tion of fifty thousand dollars, and on the 4th of September, 1842, the second founda- tion of the Cathedral was celebrated with imposing ceremonies. From that date .to the present the work has steadily advanced, in strict harmony with the original plan. The choir and transepts are completed, the inner pillars of the nave have been raised to their full height, and strenuous exertions are made to finish the vaulted roof, and the great towers which will be about five hundred feet in height. The first stone of this Cathedral was laid on the 14th of August, 1248, at a depth of fifty-five feet. In 1322 the choir was consecrated, and in 1487 the south tower had been raised to its present height; but the work, carried on with difficulty during two centuries and a half, ceased completely in 1509. Not merely neglected, the Cathedral in the eighteenth century was shamefully mutilated by the ignorant canons who then composed the chapter. For its beautiful altar, a kind of Greek pavilion was substituted ; its four bronze angels were trans- formed into rococo candelabra; the stone choir screen was demolished to give place to an iron railing ; common glass was substituted for the exquisite painted windows, which, the canons thought, made the interior too dark; and finally, the sacrament- house, a very beautiful piece of carving, was broken to pieces and cast into the | Rhine. The famous tomb of the Three Magi is the most venerated of the many sep- ulchres contained within the Cathedral. It is a large case, so to speak, made of vari- ous colored marbles, enclosed in heavy copper gratings, in which three turbans, mingled — with the other designs, strike the eye, an odd reminder that these wise men came from the East. Three copper lamps, always burning, bear the names of the three kings — Gaspar, Melchior, and Balthasar; and the same names, written in rubies, sparkle from the shrine. As in Mayence, there are here a great multitude of archiepiscopal tombs, among others that of the worthy Archbishop Conrad, who, “finding himself superabundantly rich in gold, silver, and precious stones, and deeming his treasure inexhaustible, undertook,” says. the Cologne Chronicle for 1499, “the construction of the Cathedral, of this immense and costly edifice, on which we are laboring at the present moment.” One other church in Cologne must be visited that we may have a correct idea of its religious life; this is the old Byzantine church of St. Martin, whose round arched windows are less poetic than the Gothic arch, but have their own grave dig- re a SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 453 nity and solemnity. One should visit this church on a market-day, when the peas- ‘ant women of the neighborhood leave their fruits and vegetables, and come in to hear “mass. In their absorbed devotion, no less earnest because so awkward, we get a picture like some old wood-carving or some quaint old German engraving. The Cathedral belongs to kings and bishops, but St. Martin’s is the beloved church of the poor; and the two will represent the old Catholic city of the Rhine. h a | i iW wll hi WH hl | HHI i} | MW Hl | I yl St. Martin’s Church. : “JT had the singular good fortune to arrive in Cologne on a feast-day,” says Gérard de Nerval, in his Souvenirs d’ Allemagne. “'The city was filled with merry- making. It was the August festival of the Virgin, and all the Catholic quarters — which form the principal part of the city—were gay with banners floating in the wind, earlands in all the windows, oak-boughs strewn thickly in the streets. Trium- phal processions were on their way to all the churches, and especially towards the 454 VOYAGES: AND TRAVELS. Cathedral, where, in the completed apse, worship is celebrated, while the transept is still encumbered with scaffoldings and building-materials.” \ | The famous Marie de’ Medici, who died in solitude and poverty here in Cologne, is buried under the pavement of the Cathedral, and furnishes a text to many moral- izers. “I went to see the slab that covers her heart,” says one of this fratenntan | “While I looked, a poor match-girl entered the church, set down her sulphurous bas- ket on the heart of Marie de’ Medici, said a prayer or two, and went out absolved, The interior was thronged with Christ’s poor. The scene was a rare one. I looked around me in the golden altar-lights. I thought I was in a forest,—a forest at sunset. ‘The choir was almost filled with rising incense touched with the yellow flare of the tapers, and it seemed through the columns like a vista into the clouds. The grand stems of the arcades rose thickly crowded, only they fell into a natural order and alignment like the trunks of pines; overhead they rolled to meet each other, breaking out everywhere into stiff, thickset needles and tufts of Gothic work. But this forest was not a solitude; it was crowded with speechless figures thick as thoughts. And it was not silent or simply whisper-haunted like the real woods. windows to rock in the Jove-like storm. The beauty of the Cathedral is that it is not finished. A Gothic church ought ever to be growing like the branching laces of the forest. If a day should come when we could say it is done, why then we > should seem to say, it is dead.” 3 Beyond Cologne there is still a river Rhine, — but what is it? It is a broad canal, as dull as all canals are, and has even the further disadvantage that high | dikes have been built along each side to protect the country from dangerous inun-— dations. Its exit into the sea is facilitated by means of floodgates, opened by machinery at ebb-tide, and closed when the tide returns. It is a stupendous piece of engineering, but hardly belongs to the department of the picturesque, and so, for us, the Rhine journey shall end at Cologne. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 455 ERHAPS no country in the world offers to the lover of the picturesque a more enchanting variety of natural loveliness and architectural grandeur than does the favored land now under consideration. It is a very embarras de richesses, and since some selection must be made, we find ourselves almost at a loss to know what to describe and what to omit. Two thoughts, however, have guided us, and two aims have presented themselves ? 456 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. much variety as possible in the pictures we present to them, so that, in some de- gree, we may exhibit the multiform scenes and objects of interest which make Great : Britain so attractive both to the lover of nature and the student of art. F Following out these ideas, we shall begin with the south shore of England, — © the sea-coast of Devon and the county of Cornwall,—a region remarkable for its wild scenery and its inexhaustible metallic treasures, interesting also as being the earliest part of England known to the civilized nations of antiquity.” The rugged coasts are composed mainly of the older rocks ; igneous action is everywhere mani- fested, and in many places the strata are twisted and contorted in a manner defying \ i WIA il E é | = . == Ee : = = ; = y > oe 3 e ' > ~ cs shat Teignmouth. = “4 all description. The variety of climate in these counties is also remarkable; shel-— fe ; tered nooks on the south coast enjoying a mild and equable temperature, in whieh the myrtle, geranium, fuchsia, hydrangea, and other exotics grow all the year round — . : . ° e,e : = | in the open air, while wide moors of more elevated position are so swept by the a Atlantic storms that even the hardiest trees can scarcely maintain a stunted existe | ‘ ence. ‘The extreme fury of these gales would scarcely be believed by the stranger till he observes that even the tombstones in the churchyards are supported by masonry as a protection against the wind. “The gale from the west,” says a Cornish author, “is here no gentle zephyr: instead of wafting perfume on its wings, it often brin | devastation.” ‘The salt of the sea is often borne across the country by the tempest, and after heavy winds produces a noticeable effect upon vegetation. Rain is also extremely frequent, as is shown in the popular Cornish adage that the supply for — the county is “a shower every week-day and two on Sundays.” SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 457 One of the finest situations on the Devon sea-coast is Teignmouth (see opposite page), the home of W. M. Praed, the poet, and now one of the finest of the sum- mer watering-places in the county. A few miles south lies Dartmouth (see below), an extremely old town, of great ‘interest to the traveller. It is built in terraces on the shore of a beautiful land- Jocked harbor opening to the sea by a narrow channel, and encompassed by steeply- shelving rocks. In the time of Edward III. it was a port of so much consequence ‘that it furnished thirty-one ships to the fleet which was to besiege Calais. At a more recent period it was from Dartmouth that the adventurers set forth who first visited Newfoundland and established its important fisheries. Sir Humphrey Gilbert was born near here, and Davis, the bold seaman who discovered the Straits to which Dartmouth. he gave his name. At a still earlier date (1190) Dartmouth harbor was the place of rendezvous where Richard Cceur-de-Lion gathered his crusading fleet; while many old towers and forts on the shore or on the heights of Dartmouth tell of the civil wars of England in which the town bore a part. At the extreme point of the promontory on the left, which bounds the entrance to the harbor, stands Dartmouth Castle, mounting guard at the very edge of a shely- ing rock of glossy slate, its base washed by the sea at high tide. It consists of a square and a round tower, the latter now serving as a magazine, but formerly used to receive the iron chain which was stretched as a defence across the harbor to the rock on the opposite side, where a groove is yet visible, evidently scooped out to receive the chain. The most important of the seaport towns of Devon is, however, Plymouth, which, with its sister towns, Stonehouse and Devonport, forms both a great focus of trade and a war-station of the first importance. Its history runs back to the time of Henry II. From this port, Drake, Raleigh, and Cavendish sailed to find fame —if not fortune —in a new world ; from this, the last spot of English ground their feet had trodden, the Pilgrim 458 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. SS | hh the UIA uf LL the morning, would come out WE an —SSS= = —— —— I; | | I] Plymouth. Fathers named the colony they founded b yond the seas; Captain Cook sailed fro 4 i Plymouth in 1768, and again in 1772. Tn 1861 the three towns had a joint population of about one hundred and twenty-eight thou- sand inhabitants, which has no doubt con- siderably increased since that time. Plymouth Hoe (the rising ground coy-_ ered with buildings at the right in the illustration) is one of the most beautiful promenades in the kingdom. It is a high ridge of land constituting the sea-front of Plymouth. The view from it is of great variety and beauty, and the traveller, as he looks across the level waters of the open ocean, is interested to remember heroes of the past who have also made Plymouth Hoe a look-out. ‘This was the point of the English coast whence the Armada was first discerned, and tradition asserts that Sir Francis Drake and the other captains were playing bowls here when the news of the great fleet’s approach was brought to them, in memory whereof it was long the custom for the mayor and corporation of Plymouth, — on the anniversary of that day, to wear — their scarlet, and to entertain their visitors with cake and wine. - From this terrace it was that Smeaton, in 1758 and later, used to watch for the safety of his light-house built on the Hddy- — stone rock, fourteen miles out to sea. “ After a rough night,” says Smiles, “his sole thovght was of his light-house. There were many who still persisted in asserting that no building erected of stone could possibly stand upon the Hddystone ; and again and again the engineer, in the dim gray of d peer through his telescope at his deep-sea lamp-— e 4. 7A “eae © 9 % Seo, Mish ote. : 4 Po e PME | ‘ we PS it eee y wee ——. a! a ee apace Ty “| ary a A0 MATA THiLaos mn | || z __l[["__ | | = == a = =—— a=] === | = == | | = = ___"~EeEKNE EE | (be eenerarer 7 oer aman eee | SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 459 post. Sometimes he had to wait long until he could see a tall white pillar of spray shoot up into the air. Thank God, it was still safe! Then, as the light grew, he could discern his building, temporary house and all, standing firm amid the waters; and thus far satisfied, he could proceed to his workshops, his mind relieved for the day.” Besides the Eddystone light, the observer who looks off across the Sound to the open sea will observe another light-house, at a point much nearer to his eye. And by daylight this will be man.fested to have its position at the extremity of a great stone bar lying across the opening of the Sound, the famous Plymouth breakwater built 1812-1845, at a cost of a million and a half pounds sterling. The entire length of this breakwater is about a mile ; its width at base varies from three hundred to four hundred feet, diminishing to fifty at its top; and its total depth varies, with the irregularity of the level on which it rests, from forty to eighty feet. The plan on which it was built was of the simplest: being neither more nor less than the casting of rubble, or rough blocks of stone of weight from two to ten tons, mixed with smaller materials, into the sea, along a line determined by the ex- istence of a string of shoals, with a view to raising these shoals to a height suffi- cient to resist and break the force of the incoming waves. Nothing could be done in the arrangement of these masses ; they were to be left to the action of the water itself, which would inevitably arrange them in the position best calculated to offer lasting resistance to the violence of the sea. A promontory of compact, close-grained limestone, belonging to the Duke of Bedford and situated at the north-east corner ‘of the Sound, was purchased for ten thousand pounds, quarries opened, rails laid, wharyes built, and a flotilla of ten vessels of cighty tons burden provided. The loaded vessel, arriving over the line of the breakwater, opened a_ trap-door, and dumped its contents into the sea, leaving the stones to settle as best they might. After seven months, the work made its appearance above the low-water level; at the end of a year laborers were employed on it, and soon after the original plan was modified, and it was determined to raise the whole structure to the level of two feet above high-water mark, to strengthen the sea-slope by dovetailed courses of granite, to pave the top, and finally, to erect the light-house with its circular tower rising seventy-one feet above high-water mark, whence shines a red light towards the north, and a white light towards the south. In the illustration representing Devonport (page 460) will be remarked on the left a broad sheet of water, extending back as far as Saltash, whose houses are faintly discernible, a low line along the foot of a hill. This land-locked sheet is the Hamoaze, where English vessels of war lie “in ordinary,” —a curious technicality, which indicates a ‘laid aside till wanted” condition. To enter upon this condition implies that guns and ammunition are remoyed, top-masts, sails, and rigging taken off, the 460 Devonport. charge of a single officer and a handful of men, who live on board. The appear- ance of these ships is odd enough; their lightened condition bringing them far up out of water, and their long ranges of empty port-holes looming grimly, like the | windows of a deserted house. oy The towns of Devonport, Stonehouse, and’ Plymouth owe their importance almost — entirely to the government buildings they contain, and when dock-yards and arsenals” and victualling yards and _ barracks have been enumerated, the tale is nearly told. — Devonport is a sort of promontory pro- jecting westward from Plymouth, and hay-— ing water nearly two thirds around i The column rising in the centre of the town is a fluted Doric pillar, a hundred — three thousand people, and covering extent of ninety-six acres of ground. On the left, in the illustration repre=— senting Plymouth, are seen the enormous Barracks. As for Plymouth itself, it pre-_ sents only a mass of crooked streets and — a few public buildings of importance, ti we come to the citadel, which has already — of the town. re SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 461 Sixteen miles north of Plymouth is Tavistock (see below) on the little river Tavy, a branch of the Tamar, the boundary between Devon and Cornwall. The Power lies in a trough of the hills and is the centre of a mining district whose operations are carried ‘on close up to its houses, while a couple of large iron foundries add to the local in- dustry. The early importance of the town was due to a magnificent Benedictine abbey, founded a century before the Norman Conquest, by a Saxon earl, or “Hal- dorman,” of Devonshire, whose wealth was so great that he ruled the country far and wide. This abbey, still in its highest splendor, was broken up by Henry VIL, and its revenues conferred upon Lord John Russell, whose descendant, the Duke of Bedford, is the present owner of the site. What remains of the ancient buildings is \ x \\ i = it i ule oa a ibe i i ay i i wa in TNT ANITA i al Tavistock. but little, yet serves to show how extensive was the early structure. Overgrown with ivy, and crowded close by modern dwellings, the ancient gateway, the little tower, the pinnacled porch have an effect at once pathetic and picturesque. Of later date is the ereat church of St. Eustache, whose tower is shown in our picture. At its base this tower is pierced by arches on all four sides, so that it is really separated from the building, and is a campanile. Returning to Plymouth, we give a last look at Devon, and, crossing the Tamar, are in Cornwall, “the land of Pol, and Tre, and Pen.” And first is Fowey, the old sii 462 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. seaport, which once ranked with Plymouth and Dartmouth. The harbor is still famous as one of the best in the county, admitting vessels of large size at all times of the tide. On each shore are the ruins of square forts built in the time of Edward IV., which once supported the ends of the great chain that barred the harbor. On the cliffs, high above the water (see illustration below), are the ruins of St. Cath- erine’s Fort, erected by the townspeople in the reign of Henry VIII.; and on the left is a windmill, referred to in chronicles of 1296 as a well-known sea-mark, built, it is believed, by some returned crusader, the use of windmills being, as is well known, introduced into Hngland from Palestine. Five miles inland from Fowey runs the Cornwall railway, on its road from Ply- mouth to Truro, and then the West Cornwall road goes on to Penzance, within ten miles of Land’s End. This road was one of Brunel’s great engineering exploits, and the completion of sixty miles of it occupied twelve long years. It required seven tunnels and forty-three viaducts, the most important of these being the Albert Bridge, Fowey. which crosses the mouth of the Tamar at a place where it is a quarter of a mile wide, —too great a space to be spanned at one bound,— and where the water in the mid stream is seventy feet in depth. It would be interesting to describe this bridge, which is three hundred feet longer than the famous one over the Menai Straits, and is in many respects more remarkable, though much less renowned, than Stephen- son’s: but we must not linger on our way to Truro, the little town which is con- sidered the metropolis of Cornwall, and, lying in its charming valley at the junction of two streams with an arm of the sea, presents one of the most attractive pictures in the county. * In the neighborhood of Truro are the ruins of St. Piran’s Church, perhaps the oldest Christian edifice in England, built, it is believed, in the fifth century, sub- merged by sand about three hundred years later, and revealed by the sand again shifting in 1835. Nothing can be imagined more primitive than this little structure, which is but twenty-nine feet long and sixteen and a half in breadth. The maso * SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 463 is of the rudest description, and affords a striking proof of the antiquity of the church. No lime has been used by the builder, but china-clay—a product of the neighbor- hood — and sand employed instead; and in this the stones are imbedded without re- gard to order, consisting of blocks of slate and granite, some rough, others rounded like big pebbles. ‘The invasion of the sand is a peculiarity of this part of the Cornish coast, and has desolated it for miles, sometimes with an accumulation of several feet in a single night. The railway, whose viaduct is seen in the foreground of the illustration given here, is a short branch of the Cornwall, leading from Truro to Falmouth, and com- Truro. ing out near Pendennis Castle, the famous old fort which is seen (page 464) crowning the hillock in the centre of the picture. Falmouth itself is but a little town of about six thousand inhabitants, consisting mainly of a long narrow street, straggling along the water’s edge, but its surroundings give it great distinction. The winding shores of its harbor are well known to the landscape-painter, and the haven itself “is very notable and famous,” says Leland; while Carew asserts that “a hundred sail of vessels may anchor in it, and not one see the masts of another.” Its entrance, defended by Pendennis Castle on the one side and St. Mawes on the other, is about a mile wide, and within, the harbor expands into a broad smooth basin, extending inland four miles to the mouth of the Truro River. ha 464. VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. — An interesting association connects Fal mouth with Sir Walter Raleigh, — in facet, % the town may be said to owe its existence to the great navigator. On his return from. Guiana Sir Walter visited the harbor, and found but one solitary house, in addition to an ancient manor of the Killigrew family, standing on the site of the present town. Filled with admiration at the advantages of this remarkable estuary, he represented its importance to the queen and her council, and a settlement was at once made there, which, after being known first as Smithike, | and then as Penny-come-quick (evidently a corruption of the Cornish words Pen, Combe, and Ick), in 1660 received, by royal procla- mation, its name of Falmouth, and the fol- lowing year was invested by charter with the rights and dignities of a corporate town. Pendennis Castle, however, is of older date, being built in the time of Henry VIIL., and having enjoyed the distinction of stand- Falmouth. ing out for King Charles longer than any other fort in England. South of Falmouth, and nearly cut off from the mainland by the little river Helford, is the district of the Lizard, sometimes called. the Cornish Chersonese. Its greatest length and breadth does not exceed ten miles each way, and the promontory narrows at last. to a sharp tip known as Lizard. Point, the most southerly point of England. The geologic peculiarity of this region is the presence of a large area of serpentine, a i rare and beautiful rock, dark-green, reddish, and streaked, suggestive of a lizard’s skin, and probably giving, by this appearance, the AS ‘il Me = name to the district and the cape. It makes a barren soil, but one favorabie to the growth of the Hrica vagans, the rarest an M " rach Pi Ak rN hai °. a Pl Fi { F f ! : Pee Bae: ‘ge! Pia } uy i i fur A ; ‘ “fy s WOU 0 dae $ e ‘el . “i Pas 7 - ne ‘ ‘ f r . * { ™ ' ‘ * ri jy ‘ ~ _ ) s of ‘ 1. - © res) (APT SAT Ga? Mn sry we ADC MOD SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 465 most beautiful of the English heaths. It is a singular fact that this heath grows nowhere else but in a small region on the west coast of Portugal; and the same is true of the Sibthorpia Huropea, another Cornish plant of the moneywort family. The Lizard serpentine is used in the construction of cottages in all the region where it abounds, and has also, of late years, become quite an article of trade, families of stone-cutters and lapidaries having established themselves in all directions, and con- verted into a thousand elegant trifles this really beautiful and curious rock. Vases and cups, paper-weights, even bracelets and small ornaments, are made of it and offered for sale to tourists, and have made fine show at all the successive Expositions, ever since that of 1862 in London. On the rocky headland of Lizard Point the traveller will first observe the two tall lighthouses, marking this generally the first land made by ships upon entering the Lizard Point. Channel. These beacons display two lights, to distinguish them from the one light of Scilly and the three of Guernsey. Two miles west of the point is the famous Kynance Cove (see page 466), one of the wonders of the Cornish coast. A steep descent leads down to the shore, among wild rocks that are grouped as if by a painter’s hand, and with their dark and varied colors contrast exquisitely with the light tints of the sandy beach and the changeful azure of the sea. The predominant color of the serpentine is an olive green, diversified by veins of red and purple, while the rocks are incrusted with yellow lichen and cut by seams of dull white steatite. The ragged rocks are pierced by caverns which the waves have worn down to the smoothest polish, and the beach is strewn with pebbles, which, when they are wet, have almost the brilliancy of the precious stones. In the centre of the cove rises a pyramidal rocky mass, insulated 466 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. at high water, and known as Asparagus Island, from the wild luxuriance of that useful plant. This rock is pierced by a deep chasm, from which, at certain states of the tide, a column of water is violently projected high into the air. Three of the largest caverns on the mainland are named the Parlor, the Dining-Room, and the Kitchen, and every point has its legend and its superstition. Between Lizard Point and Land’s End the coast is indented with a wide bay, at whose head sits enthroned Penzance, the “Holy Headland,” the sanitarium of the south coast, whose climate is so equable, that while in summer its average heat does not exceed 61 Fahrenheit, in midwinter its gardens are full of geraniums, migno-« nette, verbenas, carnations, and roses, all in bloom. Kynance Cove. Penzance (see opposite page) is a clean and handsome town, laid out with regularity. The quays along the sea form an enchanting promenade, and it has a background of gardens rising behind it to the summit of the hill. Its principal pub- lic buildings are the Town Hall, a granite structure with a dome, and St. Paul’s Chapel, also of granite, built in 1835. But the antiquities of Penzance are its people. They are all that remain in England of the ancient Celtic family which once peopled it. their type distinctly joming to the Celtic or Breton race, with its dark hair, gray eyes, and dark, colorless complexion. Until within a century, the Cornish language, PENZANCE, 468 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. which belongs to the Cymric division of the Celtic, was yet spoken among the fisher- women of Penzance, and now lingers everywhere in the names of lake, and hill, and town, with their Cornish prefixes, Pol, Pen, and Tre. The mild climate of Penzance renders it not only the flower-garden, but also the vegetable-garden of the south coast, and its early potatoes and cauliflower, and other edibles of this sort, are in great demand in the large cities. Its fisheries, however, furnish its chief’ revenue, and are carried on upon an immense scale. The Cornish fisherman pursues his work all the year round, with drift-net, seine, and hook and line: mackerel and pilchards are the objects of the first method of pur- suit; pilchards alone of the second; and hake, cod, and whiting of the third. About the end of January comes the early mackerel fishing; late in July comes the sum- mer pilchard season; in October is the autumnal mackerel fishing, and from that time till December, the winter pursuit of the pilchard. Between whiles the Cornish- man goes over to Ireland after herring, or follows the retreating shoals down the Channel. Of these fisheries, that for the pilchard is most entertaining to the stranger. It is a very small fish, much like the herring, and comes in such shoals as actually to impede the passage of vessels, and discolor ‘the water as far as the eye can reach. The sight of this countless fish army coming upon the coast is one of the most interesting and remarkable that can be imagined. In a single day twelve million of them have been captured, and their number not perceptibly reduced. The drift-net fishing is pursued by night at a distance of some miles from land. The method adopted is to stretch a string of nets like a wall through the sea, for the length of half or three quarters of a mile, and a depth of thirty feet, and allow them to drift with the tide, so intercepting the pilchards as they swim, and entangling them by the gills. In this way a single boat will take fifty thousand fish in a night. The chief obstacles to this mode of fishing are the moonlight and the phosphorescence of the water. The latter sometimes enables the fisherman to see his net to its full extent, like a brilliant lacework of fire, and shows it, too, to the fish, which, alarmed by the light, diverge to right and left, and escape the snare. When brought to land, the fish are taken in charge by girls and women, cured, cleansed, packed, squeezed to obtain their oil, then headed up in hogsheads and ex- ported to Naples and other Italian and Spanish ports, where they furnish a large part of the food of the poorer classes. These fishwomen make a class by themselves ‘in Penzance, and have their stalls under the Town Hall. In 1861 the mistress of these fishwomen, then eighty-four years old, went on foot to London, where she was presented to the queen. Nearly due east from Penzance, across the bay, lies St. Michael’s Mount (see opposite page), connected with the mainland by a causeway four hundred yards long, “LNNOW S°‘IAVHOIW ‘LS 470 _ VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. 4 which lies under water eight hours out of the twelve. Crossing at low tide, the traveller will find himself in a little fishing village with a good harbor, whence leads up a rocky path to the castle, a hundred and _ ninety-five feet above the sea-level. This rock of St. Michael’s has excited more controversy among geologists than any mountain in the world, and before going on to speak of its historic interest it is worth ‘while to remark on this peculiarity of formation. The body of the rock is granite, and its northern base is slate, while the granite has many vertical seams, which are filled in with quartz, oxides of tin, schorl, and other minerals. On the northwestern side, at the water’s edge, two irregular patches of granite are bedded in the slate, and on the south-east, veins of quartz traverse both slate and granite. It was long believed that the contemporaneous origin of these formations could alone explain these facts; but it is now regarded as settled that, first, the granite in a melted condition was forced through the slate, and overran upon it in places; and, second, that both granite and slate in cooling, cracked, and the fissures in both were filled up at the same time. But, except to the geologist, the great charm of St. Michael’s Mount is its won- derful beauty of situation, and all the old historic and poetic interest that clings about it. This is Milton’s “great vision of the guarded mount,” which “ Looks toward Namancos and Bayonna’s hold,” and its kinship with St. Michael’s Mount in Normandy, represented on page 219, Vol. I. of this work, is strangely poetic and interesting. Its old Cornish name signified “The Gray Rock in the Wood,” and seems to favor a tradition that at an early period the mount was covered with a forest, and situated at some distance inland. Hdward the Confessor, seeing in it a sort of minia- gure of St. Michael’s across the channel, made a gift of it to the Norman monastery, the great Benedictine House of St. Michael, “in periculo maris.” Both mounts were fortresses as well as religious houses, and contained garrisons as well as conyents; and to both appertain traditions of extensive lands and forests submerged by the sea. The Cornish castle has been the scene of many attacks, and, more than once, has been taken by strategy; its last appearance in history is during the Parliamen- tary wars, when it was reduced by Colonel Hammond, one of Cromwell’s officers. What now remains of the old castle is chiefly the hall and the chapel. The former was the refectory of the monks, and has at the upper end of the room the royal escutcheon and the date, 1660. The chapel has a fine tower, the most ancient portion of the building and the loftiest. Its summit is two hundred and fifty feet above the sands, and the lantern surmounting it is popularly called St. Michael’s Chair, since it will just allow space for one person to sit down in it. The Cornish legend ee — Ts > te ie ta art — ee J . a as raved byG.Cooke . q il alk E ing Mil | i I a 3 ee 5 sS= Sa mk, Oo by =i ING S? K. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 471 Mi which attaches to the Well of St. Keyne, and is made familiar to every school-boy : by Southey’s poem, is also told of this lantern, and many a fair married traveller, it is said, will venture upon the somewhat perilous feat, in the hope of securing that domestic sovereignty so dearly prized by either sex. _ From Penzance, along the coast to Land’s End, are wonderful formations in granite, —eaverns, Druidic monuments, and ever the grand ocean views which give such majesty to the scene. About half-way to Land’s End is what is called a cliff castle sot great renown, and of antiquity impossible to determine. It is a headland of granite, shaggy with a kind of moss, and weathered into rhomboidal masses, marked in many ‘places with the vivid colors of porphyritic rock. The headland is isolated by an intrenchment of earth and stones, forming a triple line of defence about fifteen feet high at its outer edge, faced with stones, and having an entrance marked with : \}| | WAU \| | WWW Logan Rock. granite posts. Very many of the Cornish headlands are thus fortified, but a pecu- ‘liar interest is attached to this one, T'reryn Castle, because it contains the famous Logan Stone, a great rock thirty feet in circumference, so delicately poised that a touch will make it vibrate, but so firm that it was the country’s boast that no power could dislodge it from its place. Until about fifty years since this vaunt had never been discredited, when a hare-brained young English officer, in command of a reve- and the bad nue vessel, with the assistance of his crew, had the audacity to try luck to succeed in the attempt—to throw the Logan Stone over into water. Loud was the rejoicing of the jolly tars at their feat, but short-lived was the young lieutenant’s self-congratulation. One united wail of regret and howl of indig- nation went up from injured Cornwall. Appeal was made to the admiralty, and an order issued by those in power that the treasure should be fished up again trom 472 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the sea into which it had been cast, and replaced just where it had stood before, At the expense of a year’s work with men and machinery the task was achieved, but the exquisite poise and balance of the Logan Stone was lost, and could neyer be restored’ to it again. , Following the coast westward about five miles, the traveller comes to Land’s End, the Bolerium of the ancients, the most westerly point of England, — a wild, granite headland, forever wet with the Atlantic mists and the spray of the mighty waves that dash and are broken against it. Its extreme point is not over sixty feet in height, but the cliffs rise around it to a much greater elevation; and separated from it by the water, but evidently part of the same rocky outwork, are isolated rocks of various and grotesque forms, —the Shark’s Fin, the Armed Knight, Dr. Johnson’s Head, and others. In clear weather the ‘Scilly Islands, twenty-seven miles distant, may be distin- guished on the western horizon. A tradition exists that these islands were once con- Land’s End. nected with the mainland by a tract of country called “the Lyonesse,” where, according to Tennyson, King Arthur fell, when “All day long the noise of battle rolled Among the mountains by the wintry sea.” Spenser makes out this region as a part of fairy land; but the chroniclers, who go into particulars, tell us that it contained a hundred and forty parish churches, and was swept ! away by a sudden eruption of the sea. About a mile back from the extreme point of Land’s End is a little inn, which, with rustic humor, the landlord calls the “first and last” inn in England. = = Zid, Z = = , —= = 27 a —— SSS = < 2 = SS <= = = = ‘ = = ae Sar} ; : = ; — i | BOTALLACK MINE. 476 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. And now, having quite rounded the promontory which makes the west point of England, we turn east again, and fine the first town of importance, St. Ives (see the opposite page), on its beautiful bay, with the wide waters of the open ocean in the distance. The town has a fine pier, built by Smeaton in 1767, and a break. water was commenced to shut in the bay, but abandoned as too expensive a work. An old church stands close to the beach, and is sprinkled by spray in high winds. There are mines in the immediate neighborhood of the town, and, with the fisheries, they make it an industrious little place. As a picture, St. Ives is the very gem of the western ‘coast, and has been said to resemble a Greek village, with its wonder- e ful coloring of rocks, and sky, and sea. by . 4 One more glimpse at the coast of Cornwall we will have between Tintagel “_ : = Coast between Tintagel and Boscastle. Boscastle, leaving behind us the ocean, and entering the scarcely less tumultuous waters of the Bristol Channel. The line of coast of this region is very remarkable and magnificent. The cliffs slope down to the shore in imposing curves, forming inclined planes from a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet in length. They are masse ; of dark slate varied by white lines, which show, even at a distance, the contortions of the strata. From Tintagel to Boscastle is about three miles, the intermediate country resem- bling a natural terrace, bounded on the side towards the sea by the fine cliffs we haye observed, and on the inland side by a range of hills. ; Tintagel itself, in the foreground, celebrated as the most romantic scene in Corn- wall, derives additional interest from the ruins of a castle of great antiquity, the reputed home of King Arthur. The headland strikingly illustrates an action of the sea which tends to convert promontories into islands, consisting, as it does, of a peninsula, united to Hi ty nl i i ij IVES. ST. ) Ps Sy - « a 0) i — » . 478 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. the coast by a neck of broken rocks, pierced by a long, dark cavern, or rather tunnel, which may be visited at low water. A hollow, commencing at the little village of Trevenna, opens to the sea in the rocky recess under Tintagel, and the stream which ows through it falls over the precipice in a cascade. The ruins of the castle are vartly on the mainland and partly on the peninsula, separated by the deep chasm occasioned by the wearing away of the isthmus. They consist of dark, disintegrated walls, pierced by small square windows and arched doorways. An ancient landing- place on the shore, called the Iron Gate, is yet marked by a massive bastion and gateway, which, it is believed, date from the time of the ancient Britons. The walls are built of slate, united by coarse mortar, but no mouldings or cut stone work of any kind remain by which the date of the structure can be ascertained. No historic record whatever tells of the erection of this most interesting castle, but the tradition connecting Tintagel with Arthur, “the flower of kings,” has every sanction which can commend it to our belief. In the medizval romances belonging to the cycle of Arthur, the name constantly occurs, with many descriptive particu- lars. In the Doomsday Book it is called Dunchine, the Castle of the Cleft ; soon after the Conquest it was the residence of the Earls of Cornwall; later it became the property of the crown, and was sometimes used as a prison, a Lord Mayor of London having been sent thither, in whose “perpetual penitentiary” it may be doubted if the Arthurian legends afforded much solace ; and, finally, in Queen LElizabeth’s time it was left to fall into ruin. -. The traveller, however, leaving its history uncared for, cannot fail to have his mind full of the legendary fame of Tintagel, as he stands in the midst of this sol- itary and magnificent scene. ‘The ruinous walls are unrelieved by any lichen or ivy, and the stones, worn to sharp edges by the weather, are laid on the bare rock, the direction of their laminze corresponding with that of the cliffs, so that the ruin and the rock are indistinguishable from one another at a little distance. The slate of the promontory, where removed from the more destructive action of the waves, has been curiously weathered into little basins and ridges, like masses of old snow under a spring sun. Some of these basins are called by the village people “King Arthur’s Cups and Saucers.” Upon the sea-front, the slate presents a series of inaccessible headlands and gloomy recesses, illustrating the influence of the “Atlantic drift.” The long undulations have eaten away the cliffs at their base into a concave surface, round- ing out above, and rendering them absolutely inaccessible to the shipwrecked sailor who may seek to cling to their inhospitable front. The most important business centre in the neighborhood of the Bristol Channel is Bristol, on the Avon, a few miles from the salt water. The illustration represents its suburb, Clifton, extending along the right bank of the little river the white facades of its elegant residences. On the cliffs above stand the two towers of a suspension- me ith i | Stark . i | it > | | : b a) ro ® et q EI A Engraved byW. 9 me Wr ye TT ya0le (cLosE NORWICH) SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 479 ridge, built about 1850, and once spanning the river at. a height of two hundred and forty-five feet above the water. The bridge itself was carried away by a hurricane, and the remaining towers add the picturesque effect of a ruin to the graceful land- scape. Hight miles below Bristol the Avon falls into the wide Severn, and a light-house, built on a long and narrow ledge of rocks (see page 480), indicates the point of con- fluence of the two rivers. ‘ Across the Severn lies Monmouthshire, and the traveller entering this county believes himself in Wales, and is surprised to look on the map and find the Princi- pality is yet further to the west, and that Monmouthshire is part of England. This ordering, however, dates only from the time of Henry VIII., before whose reign the . The Avon at Bristol. county was an integral part of South Wales, in history and interest perfectly iden- tical with it. Subsequently to that era it has still been, in many respects, more intimately associated with Wales than with England; and to this day, in the aspect of the country, and in the language and habits of the people, it has all the charac- teristics of the Principality. In the western and northwestern parts the people retain their ancient British prejudices with the utmost tenacity, and brand with the op- probrious epithet ‘“ Sassenach,” or Saxon, everything belonging to their powerful neighbors. ‘The county is full of Roman ruins, memorials of the three hundred and _ thirty years’ occupation of those masters of the ancient world. Saxon and Norman relics are also numerous in castles, castellated mansions, and ecclesiastical edifices; some of each of these classes of buildings being among the most picturesque ruins in the kingdom. >’ ) | 480 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Chepstow Castle, standing on a high rock above the little town of Chepstow | page 481), is worthy of special attention. It was founded at the time of the Non Conquest by William Fitz-Osbern, the Conqueror’s brother ; but the original str gave place, about two hundred years later, to a larger and stronger fortress, superb ruins yet show how well the English of that time knew to build. site occupies three acres, and is divided into four courts. On one side, the cliff o which the castle stands is washed by the classic Wye, and on the other sic es, deep ditch and circular towers defend the approach. In the eastern side is the 1 n entrance, beneath a Norman arch, guarded by two lofty towers and an iron: 7 door. a subterranean room excavated in the rock. In the south-eastern corner of this court Mouth of the Avon. is a large round tower, which was once a prison. Here one of the regicide judge was confined for twenty years, and finally died. Here, too, during the Commonwealth, The Ree court is converted into a garden. In the third court is the gra: C hall of the building, a great room ninety feet long, with windows and arches in he richest Gothic style. The fourth court was connected by a drawbridge with the 1 resi of the castle, and would seem to have been an outwork constructed at a later period. = The castle fortifications originally extended around the town, and the remains of walls and towers are still visible. The principal historic importance of Chepstow is in connection with the civil war of the time of Charles I. The town and castle 1 SC. Irn Wis | N Wa / = ARCE i yall ‘m fr h ll “Wow. wa SB: i S a aA, oD = ) yw Wo 4 \ Ve. aS < : - vin SS ; — ~ Ne, ea =a :: = = fy > wa . IN ies CHEPSTOW CASTLE. 482 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. - were garrisoned for the king, but in October, 1645, a Parliamentary colonel gained possession of them, and retained them till 1648, when a regiment of cavalry surprised and’ captured the post. Its importance was at this time so great that the Protector proceeded in person to recover the lost castle, which he speedily did, taking it by — assault. From Chepstow it is a delightful ex-_ cursion of fifteen miles up the Wye to Monmouth, the shire town, at the junction — of the Wye with the Monnow, and taking from the latter stream its name, Monnow- — mouth, contracted to Monmouth. Hight miles from this town is another _ and very celebrated fortress, Raglan Castle, which has been made familiar to the read-— ers of Macdonald by his novel entitled “St. George and St. Michael.” The scene of” this brilliant story is laid in Raglan in 1646, the year of its destruction by Fairfax — after a siege of eleven weeks, and the book abounds with graphic pictures of the old place, both in its glory and in its downfall. Its two lofty hexagonal towers; its — donjon, five stories high, with walls ten feet in thickness; its fountain court, wit . “the giant horse, rearing in white marble, almost dazzling in the sunshine, from whose | nostrils spouted the jets of water which gave its name to the quadrangle; the little chapel, with its triple lancet-windows, over which lay the picture-gallery, with its large oriel lights;” the spring sunshine filling half the court; and, best of all, the varied and beautiful life that animated the picture,— the smiling faces of children and ladies, the gentlemen in armor, the serving men and maids, the old marquis clad in frieze, with his unwieldy person and noble countenance; and Lord Herbert, the eldest son, the great inventor, who had subjected the forces of nature to his will, till far and near he was esteemed master of the Black Art;—all this is made as real to us as if it were a thing of to-day. Then follows the story of the siege, the gallant defence, the surrender, and the sad, shining procession that passed out from the gates, and took its way towards London. And then, the decree of Parliament that Raglan should be destroyed. Lastly, the pil- lage of the old place by. the neighboring peasantry. “For years,” says the novelist, “T might say centuries after, pieces of furniture and panels of carved oak, bits of tapestry, antique sconces and candlesticks of brass, ancient horse-furniture, and a thousand things besides of endless interest, were to be found scattered in farm-houses— and cottages all over Monmouth and the neighboring: shires.” SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 483 The living Raglan has gone from me,” he concludes, “and before me rise the broken, mouldering walls which are the monument of their own past. My heart swells as I think of them, lonely in the deepening twilight, when the ivy, which has flung itself like a garment about the bareness of their looped and windowed raggedness, is but as darker streaks of the all-prevailing dusk, and the moon is gathering in the east. Fain would the soul forsake the fettersome body for a season, to go flitting hither and thither, alighting and flitting, like a bat or a bird,—now drawing itself slow along a moulding, to taste its curve and flow, now creeping into a cranny, and brooding and thinking back till the fancy feels the tremble of an ancient kiss yet - softly rippling in the air, or descries the dim stain which no tempest can wash away. _ Ah, here is a stair! ‘True, there are but three | steps, a broken one and a fragment. “What said I? See how the phantom steps continue it, winding up to the door of Viaduct of Crumlin. my lady’s chamber! See its polished floor, black as night, its walls rich with tap- estry, lovelily old and harmoniously withered, — for the ancient time had its things that had come down from solemn antiquity; —see the silver sconces, the tall mirrors, the part-opened window, long, low, carved, latticed, and filled with lozenge panes of the softest yellow green in a multitude of shades! The vision fades, and the old walls rise like a broken cenotaph. But the same sky, with its clouds never the same, hangs over them; the same moon will fold them all night in a doubtful radiance befitting the things that dwell alone and are all of other times, for she too is but a ghost, a thing of the past, and her light is but the light of memory; into the empty crannies blow the same winds that once refreshed the souls of maiden and man-at-arms, only the yellow flower that grew in its gardens now grows upon its walls.” In striking contrast with the superb ruins that are left us by the feudal period, 484 m NTN VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. ane mn SSSR ), O! SIVA ; RSS Newport. SSS lars (|, LEIS SSSSSSSS than the Viaduct, or railway bridge, of Crumlin, on one of the many branch line crossing the county. The bridge is so well shown in the illustration, page 483, that one hardly needs do more in its description than to supply the figures. The ten spans are of a hundred and fifty feet each, and the loftiest of the piers two hundred and forty feet high. . 3 In the valley beneath lies the village of Crumlin, a veritable Liliputian town, as seen from the lofty viaduct. Down this valley runs another railway, following the little river Ebbw (pronounced Eb-bo) to . the sea, and by this route we may come down to Newport, at the mouth of the Usk, one of the most important towns in ; the county. A very few years have ad-— vanced this place from an insignificant vil-— lage into a populous and thriving commer- cial centre, owing to the inexhaustible min- f mR « a eral wealth of the surrounding district, and : the facilities of transportation offered by® the numerous canals and railways of the 4 region. _ It is coal which has made the fortune of Newport. Everybody deals in it, and : | finds the business profitable. The city is neat and well laid out, with the usual public buildings for municipal and commer- cial purposes, for education and divine worship; it has, besides, large barracks for infantry and cayalry. Withal, it has claims to high antiquity, being founded by the Romans in connection with their station at Caerleon. | The harbor is admirable, and the docks — and basins unsurpassed. The quays are ret! bey hah iW o 5s Lith CHO 4 4 No re SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 485 : Bnely paved, and edged with large blocks of hewn granite. Standing on one of these quays, and looking about, the picture. is truly enchanting. In the foreground is the diy, lying gous the level, and rising up the hill-sides to the right and left, while a villas, and last, the. old towers of a Norman ruin. — Our first town really in the Principality is Milford, situated on Milford Haven, a - the western extremity of Wales. The brief history of this place is an extraor- din ary instance of great and rapid vicissitudes. The town is of recent origin, haying be sen commenced in 1790 by Mr. Charles Greville, the proprietor, under the sanc- tion of an Act of Parliament. A large and populous town quickly arose ; a dock- yard was constructed for building ships of war; a line of mail-coaches a packets daily visited the town; a company engaged in the South-Sea whale-fishery selected Milford. % ; it as the port for their vessels ; laborers of all classes found constant and remuner- ative employment, and money to a great amount was circulated. \ But within a few years these springs of prosperity failed. The dockyard was ‘removed four miles farther from the open sea, the whalers sought other ports, the line of post-office communication was diverted, much property was rendered unpro- ductive, and the interests of the town declined as rapidly as they had advanced. A renewal of prosperity, however, which promises to be lasting, has resulted from the “many advantages which the place enjoys. The principal streets run in parallel lines, east and west, in the direction of the ; shore, and are mrermbciaa by shorter ones at right angles. The church, at the east- perm extremity, is a handsome structure surmounted by a lofty tower. Its stained- glass windows exhibit the arms of the families of Hamilton, Barlow, and Greville. 486 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Here are preserved a vase of red porphyry from Egypt, bearing an inscription in The haven itself is very remarkable; it is twelve miles in length, and varying memory of Lord Nelson, and a part of the mainmast of L’Orient, the flag-ship o the French admiral at the battle of the Nile. in breadth from three miles to one mile, branching into a great number of bays, creeks, and roads ; it has in every part complete shelter and firm anchorage, and is — sufficiently capacious to hold all the navies in the world in perfect security. Its remote situation, however, impairs its utility and value, both for the purposes of com- merce and as a station for war-ships; and the noble expanse of water exhibits the ~ tranquil appearance of a quiet and unfrequented inland lake. | Carnarvon Castle. Exterior. In the north of Wales, Carnarvon is one of the most attractive points to the tourist ; and Carnarvon Castle, represented on this and the succeeding page, crown and glory of the town. This fortress was built in 1283, by Edward L., after his subjugation of Wales; and here, in 1284, his eldest son, afterwards Edward IL, was born. The great square tower at the left, in the view of the exterior of Car- narvon, guarded the entrance, bearing in a niche the now mutilated statue of its” founder, his hand upon a half-drawn sword. The tower in the background of the interior view is the one called the “ Eagle,” and had originally sculptured stone eagles on the summit of each of its three turrets. Like most of the other castles in Wales, SCENES IN MANY LANDS. | 487 “it long held out for King Charles, but fell finally into the hands of Parliament in 1646. A decree to destroy Carnarvon was issued in 1660, but the execution of the -warrant was partially evaded, and now there is still enough of the ancient strong- hold standing to show what its former strength must have been. _ The old castle was a scene of great festivity at the moment represented by our artist, for here was held the national festival of the Histeddfod, or Bardic contests, with which’ the Welsh people delight to keep alive the memory of their early his- tory and independent existence. The ancient Cymric devices — the eye, representing wisdom, and the three rays descending from heaven to earth, and forming the basis bs é ; ay er the Bardic alphabet — are set up above the great entrance archway, while within the time ys ae — Fea Boke: Me ben as — Za: ———————— WT) a Loy CU CWb BD, Carnarvon Castle. Interior. Ot ihe SPEED, on ogee & Pa hi I . aa t 7, = Anas courtyard marquées are erected, and tri-color flags, blue, green, and white, are flying : in ail directions. In former days, the Eisteddfod was the opportunity for a great - display of national costume; but the Welsh people, like all the rest of the world, have fallen into the snares of fashion. The men are clad in sombre black, and all that remains of eccentricity in the female attire is only the high-pointed hat and the red and black plaid shawl. The county of Carnaryon is divided from its neighbor, Merioneth, for a few miles _ by the Aberglaslyn, which, passing through a deep gorge in the mountains, forms 4 ¢ ca a 488 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. one of the grandest and most romantic scenes in North Wales. The rapid stream dashes over its rocky bed, hemmed in by cliffs on either side seven hundred feet it height. The road, in which two carriages can barely pass each other, follows — windings of the little river upon its western side, and the wall of rock that tower above it shows upon its front, in the conformation of the strata, the clearest marks of having been torn from the opposing wall by some extraordinary convulsion of nature. The little bridge comects the two adjacent counties, and is the principal route of travel between them, and adds, with its graceful arch, a new element 5 7: beauty to the picture of which it forms a part. Returning to the main route, the traveller will pass through the lovely valley of Nant Gwynant, or the Vale of the Waters. All through the valley runs an excel- lent road, overlooking Lake Gwynant, and, with its fertile meadows on one hand and Llyn Gwynant and Merlin’s Fort. . 4 ee . . ; ° & wee luxuriant woods on the other, unfolds scenes of exquisite beauty whose impression 18 greatly heightened by their contrast with the sublimer features of the mountain land- scape amidst which they are found. Llyn Gwynant is a lovely lake about a mile long and a quarter of a mile in breadth. Beyond this, the road runs by the river through a narrow, wooded valley , tili it reaches a second lake, smaller, but scarcely less beautiful. Still following the river, the road passes close under a remarkable’ rock, known as Merlin’s Fort, which is the scene of many wondrous traditions concerning the old magician. : 7 And so with the name of Merlin our Welsh journey ends. A hundred miles by rail, mostly close along the northern coast, brings us back into England, and we find ourselves in the old town of Chester, of which Thomas Fuller discourseth thus: } & “Chester is a faire city, on the north-east side of the river Dee, so ancient that Wa ~S \ . \' \ \ 2, Z = ‘G. ore hy jp, \\e ae = : Me » ee ~ / % o Z 28 ah! QS : : \K =—— : == = = = = Zs = a ¢ Eo == = SS v \\ ‘= CZ \ \S Sj ZZ —m——<—~ = \\ =// = = RS =2 = \ j// i = = = SN Uy SS NN —SaZ- SE Z TN l\l\ iN Mw Wivar W \\ NS \\ \\ \ \ \ \ l \ \\ \\ \\ => \\ \ A teaal oe ') Whe Vo y We NG 4 \ SSN i \ AR = A AW 4 “es PONT ABERGLASLYN, 490 _ VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. » - | the first founder thereof is forgotten. It is built in the form of a quadrant, and is almost a just square ; the four cardinal streets thereof (as I may call them) meet-— ing in the middle of the city, at a place called the Pentise, which affordeth a pleas-— ant prospect at once into all four. Here is a property of building peculiar to the city, called the Rows, being galleries, wherein the passengers go dry, without coming into the streets, having shops on both sides and underneath; the fashion whereof is somewhat hard to conceive. It is therefore worth their pains who have money and leisure to make their own eyes the expounders of the manner thereof; the like being said not to be seen in all England, no, nor in all Hurope, again.” St. John’s Church. Chester. Fuller affirms that “the first founder of the city is forgotten in its antiquity.” It may have been a British town; it certainly was an important Roman station, to which bears witness the plan of the city, and the arrangement of the principal streets, answer- ing accurately to the plan of a Roman camp. ‘The famous Twentieth Legion — the Legio vicesima valens victriz—was stationed there, as is proved by the discovery of a votive altar raised by an officer of this renowned band. The Saxon monarch Edgar held his court in Chester, and had six or eight tributary kings for his oarsmen when he made a stately water-parade upon the river Dee. To his time belongs the eld Church of St. John, which was then the Cathedral, and though for centuries m ee eee ruins, still shows in its massive masonry upon how grand a scale the builders of those early days reared their temples. ee ee de eae ae ty — ma al a ea ee hens ~ - rm. eet YF Page | 4 ‘ ‘ ‘habe ROR ee } sy ae a YA Me dd; CTL ERAS A ey Pree, Wee Engraved by LF. Lambert - we DB ats) Painted byJ.Stark . BRIDGE, NORWICH . SCENES IN MANY LANDS. | 491 of _ On pages 491 and 493, our artist has represented two Scottish pictures, Hdin- * burgh Castle, and the solemn ruin of Holyrood, for around these two buildings centres ‘all the wild drama of Scottish history. They are both situated upon the central “hill, the most important of the four or five which make up the city of Edinburgh, which hill, shaped like a wedge, lying with its sloping side uppermost, bears the Castie at its upper or thick end, and Holyrood Palace at its lower or thin end. ‘This ridge lies nearly east and west, its highest point being at its western extremity, where it _ reaches a height of about four hundred feet above the sea-level ; on this western side j saa i i / 1 ; T : rm 6 ee eee a a. a the rock is bare and inaccessible ; it has slopes of almost impracticable descent on the north and south; but eastward it communicates with the sloping street, which under two names, the High Street and the Canongate, descends to Holyrood, a mile dis- tant in nearly a straight line. In the seventh century, the Northumbrian king Edwin built a fort on Castle Rock, to which was given by the Celtic people the name Dun-Edin, or Edwin’s Fort, — an archaic designation still poetically applied to the Scottish capital; the Eng- lish, however, called it Edwinsburg, which remains scarcely altered, the present name of the city. By 854, quite a large village had grown up around the base of the Rock 492 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. and on its eastern slope, until in the twelfth century it had become a town of i portance. Edinburgh, planned a line of street from Le abbey up the slope of the ‘a shaped hill, till it joined the High Street of the city in a continuous line, and this new road received the name of the Canongate. | The old Castle occupies about six acres of ground, throwing off on its eastern side an esplanade, communicating with the High Street, and affording a parade-ground and promenade. From this parade we advance westward to a barrier of palisades ; then a dry ditch and a drawbridge, flanked by low batteries; then a guard-house, a strong gateway, more batteries, an arsenal and barracks; and at last a second oat way gives an entrance to the inner and older portion s the Castle, in which are Queen Mary’s state apartments, and the crown room where are lodged the regalia of Scotland. The view seen from the Castle is magnificent. Queen Victoria, when she visited Edinburgh in 1842, sat down on the parapet to admire this splendid picture, and the people, assembled by thousands in Princes Street below, espied her; the hand- kerchief which she waved in response to their cheering was distinctly seen below, while the captain of the Pique frigate, lying out in the Firth of Forth, with his tele- scope discerned the lady, and thundered out to her from the distance a royal salute. And now what is Holyrood, whose name is so familiar ? Originally an abbey, it early became a residence of the Scottish kings, and was Mary Stuart’s special home. Here are shown her private apartments, the embroidered bed, the chairs, the little basket, the tapestry that belonged to her: and here is the blood-stained room where Rizzio was murdered. | The palace itself is in good repair, — an elegant stone building of a quadran- gular form. Its length is about two hundred and thirty feet, its width a little less. The west front consists of only two stories, the others of three; and the portico in the centre of the west front is adorned with massive columns and a little cupola shaped like an imperial crown. The ruins of Holyrood Chapel lie behind the palace, and are seen from a dis« tance, a conspicuous and picturesque object. After dilapidations of various kinds the roof gave way in 1768, and since that time the whole has been an utter ruin, beau- tiful in its desolation,—a theme for painters and poets. Returning to Hngland, let us take a look at farming and fox-hunting Lincoln- shire, a most curious county, at once one of the ancient and one of the most modern a ee tte ee parts of England. Lincoln was a British town when the Romans, conquering the country, built a camp on the lofty hill where the Cathedral now stands, — a solemy 7 SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 493 ‘ a SSS ~~! landmark for miles across the flat, treeless level,—and ran a road straight to the north, the Ermine Way, a splendid piece of engineering, lasting to this day, wide, straight for half the length of the county, so that a traveller at Winteringham, thirty miles off, asking his way to Lincoln, would be told to keep straight on, and he could not miss it. Lying upon the North Sea, the country was especially exposed to the ravages of the Danes late in the ninth century, and suffered severely from them, losing nearly all its ecclesiastical buildings, becoming also the burial-place of three Danish leaders, or vikings, who were interred at Threckingham, whence its name to this day. After the Norman Conquest, when all fear of Northern invasions had passed by, Lincolnshire repaired her losses, and many stately abbeys and churches arose, chief among all, the beautiful Cathedral of the shire town. Its exterior presents one of the noblest specimens of early English architecture and ornament to be found in the country. Its two western towers are a hundred and eighty feet high, and the pinnacles of its central tower rise to the height of three hundred. The whole exterior of the 494 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. building is very elaborately ornamented, but its color being dark-gray, it has a look of sombre gravity, in spite of its airy pinnacles and grotesque corbels and gar- goyles. As will be remarked in the picture, it is unfortunately much crowded by neighboring houses, so that its best view, the southwest angle, is necessarily somewhat imperfect. Lying nearly in the centre of England, Derbyshire, in its northern part called “the Peak,” has the beautiful scenery of a mountain region, combined with the soft loveliness of the most fertile valleys in the kingdom, — those of the Wye and the Derwent, and the region famous among pedestrian tourists, the enchanting Dove Dale. Ly) 4) yj Wy, ily : | , awa oe ile i ———s Lincoln Cathedral. trees, seem more of a stronghold than they really are, for Haddon Hall was not built till the feudal period had quite passed away, the oldest part of the building belong=— ing to the fifteenth century, and most of it being of no earlier date than the six- teenth. ‘The old manor is mentioned in the Doomsday Book, when it belonged to. the Avenels; but in the time of Henry VI. it had fallen by marriage to the Ver- SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 49 vt i; nons, and again, in 1565, it passed by marriage into the Rutland family, with whose estates it now belongs. | The great hall in the castle is described by Sir Walter Scott, in his “ Peverel of the Peak,” in passages too familiar to be cited here. The apartment is now bare of furniture, only a few stags’ horns being suspended upon the walls by way of orna- ment, but in its silent and deserted state is singularly impressive to the imagination. ~ Adjacent to the great hall is tle dining-room, an apartment constructed when it had become the fashion for the lord of the manor to dine somewhat less in public than “in feudal times. This is probably one of the oldest of these private dining-rooms ; Haddon Hall. it was erected about 1545, and in its day must have been a splendid room. The ceiling is divided into compartments by carved beams which were richly colored and gilded. The walls are covered with panelled oak, a fanciful carved cornice is car- ried round the room, and the fireplace is profusely carved. Among other figures may ‘be remarked a portrait of Henry VII. and his queen. Here, as in the other rooms, the boar’s head, the device of the Vernons, and the peacock, that of the Manners, are perpetually recurring. The drawing-room and the bed-room connected with it are particularly interesting. The former has a noble bay-window, and the old furniture 496 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. of all three apartments is most captivating to the eye. ‘The rude doors, with their hangings of arras, are also very noticeable. From these rooms we pass into the grand gallery, a room over a hundred feet long, eighteen feet wide, and fifteen in height. Three great bay-windows are thrown out on one side of it, and tradition says that the floor is made from a single oak, which was cut for the purpose in Haddon Park. This gallery was the old ball- room, and Queen Elizabeth is said to have danced here herself. At the present day, now and then a ball is given here to the neighbors and “tenantry. We must not leave Haddon Hall without referring to a fair damsel of the six- teenth century, whose name is attached to her own room and to the upper terrace, whence she is reported to have made her escape to join her lover, waiting below. The lady was Dorothy Vernon, daughter of him who was called “the King of the ) 7 Dorothy Vernon’s Terrace ; Peak,” by reason of his thirty manor-houses ; and she not only brought her fair self to her lover, but also the castle, at her father’s death, she and her sister being co- heiresses to the thirty manors. ern show-place of the Peak. Nothing more splendid exists in all England than this princely home of the Duke of Devonshire. Its walls hung with yelvet and silk, its superb carvings by Grinling Gibbons, its seulpture gallery, its modern Hnglish paint- ings, its tapestry,—are worthy of a palace. Nor do the riches of Chatsworth end with the house. The grounds and gardens are also of the most costly and tasteful character. Its water-works are a show only SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 497 covering nearly an acre of ground. . All this was, as is well known, designed by Sir Joseph Paxton, the eminent horticulturist, who originated the plan of combining iron and glass in structures of such magnitude as successive Expositions have made familiar to us all. It is here that the famous Victoria Regia, brought from South America in 1849 by Mr. Bridges, has its palace of glass, and expands its superb flowers. (See illus- tration on next page.) The leaves of this plant are from six to twelve feet in diame- ter, and having the margin turned up for a border a couple of inches high, they resemble gigantic salvers. ‘The firmness of their texture is such that large water- birds can stand upon them. The flower opens by night twice, remaining closed dur- ing the intervening day, and the second time it opens presents a totally different appearance. It is at first all white, cup-shaped, and very fragrant. The second day f it | MN il ih i { i Courtyard. Haddon Hall. it has quite lost its perfume, it is bright pink, and the petals are reflexed. The tank in which this plant grows must be of great size, it will be seen, and it also requires to be so constructed as to keep the water at a high temperature. Southwest from Derbyshire, and on the borders of Wales, we find Shropshire, which is also called Salop, whose ancient capital of Shrewsbury has many points of interest and attraction. In the Doomsday Book of William the Conqueror, Shrewsbury is mentioned as having two hundred and fifty-two houses, and five churches. It is held in popular remembrance through its cakes and its ale, and also for the mention Shakespeare makes of the town where Falstaff boasts that he fought with Hotspur, “a long hour by Shrewsbury clock.” The Abbey Church was in great part demolished in the time of Henry VIII., but the nave and the western tower remain, and with some restorations have been adapted . q i 7 ~ +s 1 BB ae Ee bs : 498 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. to parochial use. The architecture was originally Norman, but has undergone mate- rial alterations, especially by the insertion of a large Gothic window in the face of the western tower. Beneath this window is a Norman doorway, whose recess is. adorned with various mouldings. Two cathedral towns of the west of England next claim our attention, — Hereford, represented in the accompanying engraving, and Worcester, in that facing page 4658. Considerable interest attaches to Hereford, a beautiful city on the Wye, surrounded by the lovely, garden-like scenery for which the county is distinguished. The Cathedral belongs to the twelfth century, excepting the great central tower, which was added later. ‘The architecture is for the most part Saxon and early Norman, but the exterior Aquarium of the Victoria Regia. Chatsworth. exhibits much diversity of style. The interior is ornamented with a profusion of carved work, and mouldings exquisitely wrought ; there is a very beautiful window of stained glass, a fine reredos, and a choir screen of carved metal of recent workmanship. The city of Worcester, on the Severn, is now a large and industrious place, carrying on manufactures of importance; of these, the best known in America are the Royal Porcelain Works, which furnish some of our most beautiful and costly arti- cles for Christmas gifts. The Cathedral stands on the south side of the city, and is in the form of @ double cross, three hundred and eight feet long, with a pinnacled central tower a hundred and seventy feet high. An earlier church, erected on this spot, dates an ee = ; “ ' : z - - ' - ~_ - ‘ * — = cy i. 2 re a = Das Le a ‘ — ~~ = i : — o> = i =* —_ ; et: a. ’ ad t f Bae 4 se vied ” « _ a "aly co ae = 5 sa pe a ; » - : ~ ? 2 o tm ; | — _ . : » Z ‘ - : . — 3 “4 a ; , : : = 4 4-} a : + er é e “« - " “ ¥ . ‘ et << ‘ . a = . 2 ; 7 rss «= > + : : 2 ; — -« ee nl —— , 2 - ane =e ‘ 6 ~ ae z — ~eeghed > : = 7 . ; ¢ 2 a =a > 384 : a ed ates + 2 _ —) ’ ——* he i ~-= - “t : d nt, a a NAAT a Hh in i it ih mn i ( | 4 " | H | : | ri | | | REST VIEW or SOUTH W. SCENES IN. MANY LANDS. 499 the tenth century, and it is believed the western arches in the nave are part of this structure. The interior is vaulted throughout with stone, and is the work of various periods and in different styles. So, indeed, are large portions of the cathedral, — a : ° : . the choir being in the early pointed style, the nave of the later pointed, the cloisters ca » the decorated pointed, and so on. The old place abounds in tombs and monuments. It contains the earliest royal tomb in England, that of King John, which was opened in the last century, and the coffin shown to the people. From Worcester, a charming trip by rail brings the traveller to the old city of aa Shrewsbury. 4 Warwick, in the very heart of the shire of the same name, a magnificent country, containing some of the finest woodland scenery in the kingdom. If it were our intention to speak of the great manufacturing towns, Birmingham, the giant city of Warwickshire, with its wonderful development of industries of so many kinds, would engross our pages; but the picturesque element is naturally lack- : ing in the great industrial centres, and we turn from the modern city, with all its _ wealth and prosperity, to linger delightedly around old Warwick, and Kenilworth in ’ tuins, and Stratford-upon-Avon, dear with the most precious memory in all the lit- erature of England. 500 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. “It is a rare consolation,” says Knight, “to turn from castles made into prisons and abbeys into stables, to such a glorious relic of old England as Warwick Castle.” And Sir Walter Scott calls it “the finest monument of ancient and chivalrous splen- dor which remains uninjured by time.” Since the time of Artegal, Harl of Warwick, one of the Knights of the Round Table, the place has been the home of many braye men, none more famous than the redoubtable Guy, who was nine feet tall, who per- formed prodigies of valor, and ended his days as a hermit on the cliff which bears his name. ‘This was in the Saxon time. After the Norman Conquest the castle was enlarged, and conferred upon Henry de Newburgh, in whose family it continued for six generations; then passing to the Beauchamps, and on the expiration of the male line of that house, falling to Richard Neville, the “ Warwick” of history, who became known as “the Kingmaker.” ‘This great noble, the last of the barons who openly defied the crown, fell at the battle of Barnet; and of his two daughters, one mar- ried the Duke of Clarence, Shakespeare’s “false, fleeting, perjured Clarence,” and the other, after being the widow of the Prince of Wales, became the unhappy wife of Gloucester. In Henry VII.’s time the extinct title was revived, and bestowed upon the Dudleys, and after further mutations of less historical interest, fell at last to the Grevilles, in which family it now remains. The Castle stands upon the bank of the Avon, which foams past, over the wei of an ancient mill where once the inhabitants of the borough were bound by feudal service to grind all their corn. Five miles to the north is Kenilworth, the great ruin, the home of Queen Elizabeth’s brilliant favorite, Robert, Earl of Leicester, the scene of Sir Walter Scott’s magnificent novel. Of this lordly palace, where princes feasted and a queen was a visitor, and where brave men fought, — now in games of chivalry, and now in the deadly earnest of storm and siege, — “ all,” says Sir Walter Scott, “all is now desolate. The bed of the lake is but a rushy swamp, and the massive ruins of the castle only show what their splendor once was, and impress on the musing visitor the transitory value of human possessions, and the hap- piness of those who enjoy a humble lot in virtuous contentment.” The original keep or donjon of Kenilworth Castle appears to have been built by the founder, Geffroi de Clinton, treasurer and chamberlain to Henry I., once but a soldier of fortune, but before his death chief-justice of England. This donjon is dis- tinguished from the other Norman towers of that period by having had no prisons underground, — such at least is the conclusion; for in several experiments which haye been expressly made for ascertaining the truth of this exception, the ground on which it stands has been found solid, and with no appearance of either arches or excaya- tions, although the examination has been carried to a depth of fifteen feet. It is probable, however, that the dungeons were in the Square towers above, or in a part near the foundation which remains to be discovered, for it is hardly possible that an . SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 501 ° ° _ appendage so indispensable to a feudal residence would have been omitted from this q early stronghold. ’ This massive and gigantic structure, built capable of resisting the slow waste of centuries, has suffered, however, greatly from violence. The north side has been _ demolished, either for the sake of its materials, or to render it incapable of being again occupied as a fortress. Certain alterations have evidently been made, probably by Leicester himself, to render this ancient portion of the castle harmonious with that of the Hlizabethan period, — notably in the tops of the windows, which originally had the round Norman arch, and have been made square. The small towers which crowned Warwick Castle. the four angles were also originally much higher, and have been reduced, the ancient character of the building being thus a good deal impaired. The stairs in the south- west and north-east angles, the ancient well, some remains of color in fresco in imitation of niches with trefoil heads, are among the few objects within the building that arrest the eye and invite careful attention. The grandson of the founder of Kenilworth parted with his estate to the king, and it remained royal property till given, in 1253, by Henry H1., to the great Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, from whose son the king and his son Prince Edward recovered it by siege, in 1265. This siege of Kenilworth Castle was very memo able. Great stone balls were employed by the besieged ; some of them, which have been ? 502 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. * q since dug up, measure sixteen inches in diameter and weigh over two hundred pounds. “But I do not think,” says an old commentator, “the gunnes of those days were such gunnes as we nowe use, but rather some pot gunne, or some such other in- vention.” | Having recovered possession of the fortress, King Henry gave it to his younger son Edmund, and in the same year this castle of Kenilworth was the scene of one of those brilliant displays. which began and ended with the days of chivalry, but still sparkle in the pages of the old chroniclers. On this occasion the company consisted of five-score knights and as many ladies; among the former were many foreign knights of distine- tion, who, in honor of their lady-loves, had come to break a lance with England’s chivy- alry. The days were spent in the pageantry of the tilt-yard, and the evenings with music and dancing, and, after the ladies had withdrawn, with wassail prolonged till a late hour of the night. Of the dress of these court dames it is mentioned, as a proof of the extreme luxury of the period, that they all appeared “in rich silken mantles.” The hall in which these and other banquets were held is still magnificent in decay. Its proportions — which, by the way, seem to have been judged finest by the builders of that time, since we find them often repeated — were ninety feet in length, forty-five in breadth, and the same in height. In the windows, the richness of the mouldings and tracery still remains as a proof of what they must have been when, on the decoration of this castle, all that art could accomplish or wealth command was lavishly bestowed. The under-hall “is carried upon pillars and architecture of freestone, carved and wrought as the like are not within this kingdom.” It is of the same dimensions as the Barons’ Hall above, and was intended for those numer- ous attendants and retainers who accompanied the guests. On each side of the upper hall is a fireplace; near the inner court is an oriel, “in plan comprehending five sides of an octagon,” and a fireplace. In the next century Kenilworth was for a time the place of Edward Il’s im- prisonment; and it was here that the king, gowned in black, coming out of an inner chamber into the great hall to meet an embassy from his rebellious subjects, “ sorrow stroke such a chillnesse into him that he fell to the earth, lying stretched forth in a deadly swoon.” And presently, being recovered a little, consented to the wish of _his people, resigning the kingly power and dignity to Prince Edward, his eldest son. The next point of interest in the history of Kenilworth Castle is the time when it fell into the hands of “old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster;” then, how- ever, a youthful bridegroom, and obtaining Kenilworth as part of his wife’s dower. “Lancaster Buildings” were among the important additions now made to the castle. The repairs, additions, and embellishments made by the duke consist of this range of buildings, forming the south side of the inner quadrangle, and the tower with d SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 503 ‘three stories of arches on the north. He also flanked the outer walls with turrets, and did much in strengthening the means of defence. Then followed the Wars of the Roses, and Kenilworth Castle was alternately in the power of the rival houses, and the lighter amusements of the age —the chival- rie entertainments, jousts, and tournaments — were laid aside for the stern realities of war. Days of battle, and nights of mourning or fearful preparation, drove mirth and festivity from the gate; and the continual tramp of steeds, the clang of arms, and the approach of fresh conflicts, kept alive that melancholy interest and excitement which for a time isolated this grand old fortress and its garrison within the pale of its own fosse and ramparts. Kenilworth Castle. On the accession of Henry VII. the Castle was bestowed upon his son, the Duke of Cornwall, who made many repairs and added many embellishments, and a great suite of apartments still bears his royal name, being called “Henry the Highth’s Lodg- ings.” From the time of Bluff Harry to that of Queen Bess, it remained a royal castle, till the “Maiden Queen” gaye it to her favorite, Robert Dudley, and the period of Scott’s novel begins. The repairs, alterations, and additions now made to the Castle were on the grand- est scale, and what is left of them still bears witness to their importance and mag- nitude. Space fails us to quote, as we gladly would, from the brilliant pages of 504. VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. _ Scott, the description of Kenilworth when it received a queen as its gay young master’s guest. And a few lines more must complete our story. After his splendid recep- tion of the queen, which cost the noble host a thousand pounds a day, he continued to make the Castle his favorite residence, and at his death left it to his brother Ambrose, and after him to his own son, Robert, who, however, never was allowed to enjoy his rights. The estate was seized by James I., who required Sir Robert to sell it at a third of its value to Henry, Prince of Wales, and so this great property returned to the crown. Charles I. granted it to the Careys, and at the Rebellion it fell into the hands of Cromwell, who divided it among several of his officers, by whom it was pillaged and plundered with truly Vandal barbarism. ‘They stripped the castle of its princely decorations, cut down the timber, drained the lake, and demolished the very walls for the sake of the materials. Upon the Restoration Kenilworth became once more royal property, and was now granted to the Hydes, passing, by an heiress of this house, to the Villiers family, in whose possession it remains. In taking leave of Kenilworth, one cannot but regret, with Fuller, that so splen- did a structure should have passed so rapidly into a mass of ruins; and that, not by the slow waste of time, not by the frequency of siege, nor by any elemental violence, but by the wanton hand of aggression. “I am not stocked with charity,” says this delightful old writer, “to pity the miners thereof, if the materials of this castle an- swered not their expectation who destroyed it. Some castles have been demolished for security, which I behold destroyed, ‘se defendendo, without offence ; others demol- ished in the heat of wars, which I look upon as castle-slaughter; but I cannot excuse the destruction of this castle from wilful murder, being done in cold blood, since the end of the wars.” Ten miles south from Warwick is Stratford, forever memorable as the place of Shakespeare’s home and grave. The little town is quiet and sunny; the gentle river, the old woods, the level meadows, all have a charm of rural beauty, which elsewhere might claim our attention; but in Stratford we can only think of him who lived and died here not quite three centuries ago; and the only picture we present of Stratford represents that portion of the old church wherein he lies buried. The building itself is a large and venerable cruciform structure, consisting of a nave with side aisles, a transept, a chancel, and a square battlemented tower. The tower, transepts, and some other portions are of the early English style and very perfect; the remainder belongs to a later period, but is not less graceful. Its win- dows are some of them full of rich tracery. The church stands upon the banks of the Avon, which is fringed by a few willows, and an avenue of lime-trees leads to it from the town. The whole appearance of the structure and its surroundings is extremely pleasing. Beautiful as is the exterior, the interior is even finer. Wi); S S N N WH i 506 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Shakespeare’s monument adorns the doorway on the left of the chancel. It is a bust the size of life; above it is a tablet, bearing his coat of arms and the figures of two children, and on either side a Corinthian pillar. Underneath are inscriptions — in Latin and in English. Below the monument, and a few paces out from the wall, is the flat stone, bearing the extraordinary prohibition which has hindered inquisitive generations, from his time to our own, from disturbing the poet’s resting-place in search of information possibly hidden there, concerning a life so shrouded in mys- tery as Shakespeare’s has ever been. ma Zaza Ze (ZL ZL LLL = ns a COTM ae eeu Shakespeare’s Tomb. In the adjacent county of Oxfordshire the traveller will find much to delight his eye and engross his thoughts. This midland county is full of historic associations; it has its battlefields of the Civil Wars, its Roman embankment, its Druidic crom- lech, a wonder even in the days of the Venerable Bede. Just in the centre of Ox- fordshire is a famous manor which, under two names, figured in widely remote periods of English history, — the Woodstock of an earlier day, the Blenheim of our own. As the royal manor of Woodstock, the place was a favorite with Alfred; Henry I. established here the earliest Zodlogical Garden, where, says Holinshed, “beside great store of deer, he appointed diverse strange beasts to be kept and nourished, which J ki 4 ; F SVG Pee rr sy) Pee ree. e Goee ee) YO, Oe ee ~ Cité : SSA QUAY C. Varvall AI ih IH i | 14 | | | > Fe & | oO 1 | 8a, f al 1 Be = ee ‘ | A ) | \ | = | | | | | i I i i} i < _ See as aks SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 507 ia ‘a were brought and sent to him from foreign countries far distant, as lions, leopards, lynxes, and porcupines.” He enclosed the Park with a stone wall, the first ever con- structed for ornamental purposes in England. In 1163, Henry II. resided here, and planned the famous maze, wherein he sheltered Fair Rosamond from the jealousy of the queen. Edward I. even honored the place so highly as to hold a parliament ‘here. In the same century three royal princes were born in Woodstock. In 1555, _ Blizabeth, when princess, was confined here a prisoner by her sister Mary, and wrote a pathetic stanza upon a window-shutter, bewailing her hard lot. “Of this ancient and renowned royal mansion,” says Macaulay, “not a stone is now to be seen, but the site is still marked in the turf of Blenheim Park by two _ sycamores, which grow near the stately bridge.” The picture vanishes; King Alfred, writing his translation of Boéthius, — Fair Rosamond and her furious enemy, Queen _Hleanor,—the grand gathering of the barons, — the baby Black Prince and his brother, —the pensive Elizabeth, “who wished herself to be a milkmaid,” — all these royai and feudal figures disappear; the palace goes to ruin, the manor is untenanted. -A _ century and a half from the time when Elizabeth heard out of her garden the milk- maid “singing pleasantly,”— perhaps on the very anniversary, for it was the 18th of June, a good time of year for singing milkmaids,— the foundation-stone was laid of the modern palace of Blenheim, in the royal manor of Woodstock, now granted by the queen to John, Duke of Marlborough (by tenure of a standard presented at Windsor every 2d of August), in consideration of his eminent military services, coupled with half a million voted by Parliament, to build him a palace, “as a monument of his glorious actions.” It took the name of Blenheim from a little village on the _ Danube, which was the scene of his greatest victory. } The history of the erection of Blenheim is quite a dramatic chapter — of the serio-comic order —in the history of English architecture. The funds yoted were not forthcoming for the work, and it was left for the queen to make up the deficiency, which she did, quite regularly, as long as she lived. After her death, however, the court would no longer issue treasury orders; and Marlborough himself very naturally objected to pay for a palace that the nation had, by its legislature, formally engaged to build for him. Somehow the work went on, though very slowly, and the accounts and responsibilities became more and more involved, till the climax was reached by getting into chancery. Never was architect worse used than the unlucky designer of Blenheim, Vanbrugh. From the time of the queen’s death, the building that was to ‘immortalize his name was a constant source of vexation to him. He not only found ‘it impossible to get any pay for his own labors, but for a while there seemed a chance that he would be forced himself to pay the workmen employed upon the building, — at least the duchess’ lawyers endeavored to prove that he was the party liable. Vanbrugh had provoked that celebrated virago by the rather free use of 508 VOYAGES AND. TRAVELS. both tongue and pen at her expense, and she had too much wit herself not to feel the keenness of his attack, and too fiery a temper to accept quietly an affront. Upon the duke’s death, she at once dismissed Vanbrugh; but she retained his plans, and the castle was ultimately finished during her lifetime. To describe Blenheim as it now exists would require a volume. How can one do justice in half a page to the stupendous mass of buildings, with its grand effects of light and shadow, and its solidity as of Titanic structures, — the architectural gran- deur of its interior, abundantly supported by the richness of the furniture and fittings, and the Raphaels, the Rubens, the Vandykes, the Titians, of its picture gallery, — the park, with its twenty-seven hundred acres, abounding in old oaks and cedars, “its trees planted in groups to represent the battle of Blenheim, each battalion of soldiers being represented by a distinct plantation of trees,” and its lofty monumental column, surmounted by a colossal statue of the duke, and the great triumphal arch by which visitors enter the grounds. Dr. Waagen, a learned German, who wrote a book on “Art and Artists in England,” says of Blenheim: “If nothing were to be seen in England but this seat and its treasures of art, there would be no reason to com- plain of going to this country. The whole is on so grand a scale that no prince in the world need be ashamed of it for his summer residence.” To the same reign which witnessed the erection of Blenheim belong the house and pleasure-grounds of Stowe, twenty miles away, in the north of Oxfordshire. ‘The gardens of Stowe were perhaps the finest example of landscape gardening in Hng- land; originally laid out by Sir Richard Temple, the friend of Pope, and alluded to by the poets of that epoch with great enthusiasm. An ayenue two miles long leads from the town over two gentle slopes to the park, which one enters by quite a stately Corinthian arch, from which point the house shows its long and elegant fagade in the Greek style. It is unfortunately now quite dismantled, and the treasures it once contained were dispersed over all the kingdom by the famous sale which took place there in 1848, lasting about five weeks, probably the most remarkable sale of a pri- vate collection ever made in England. Horace Walpole writes amusingly of a visit of the Princess Amelia to Stowe. “We all of us,” he says, “giddy young creatures of near three-score, supped in a grotto in the ‘Elysian Fields,’ and were refreshed with rivers of dew and gentle showers that dripped from all the trees, and put us in mind of the heroic ages, when kings and queens were shepherds and shepherdesses, and lived in caves, and were wet to the skin two or three tinies a day. On Wednesday night a small Vauxhall was acted for us in the grotto, which was illuminated, as were the thickets and two little barks on the lake. The idea was pretty, but as my feelings have lost some- thing of their romantic sensibility, I did not quite enjoy such an entertainment al Jresco, as I should have done twenty years ago. The evening was more than cool, fis | a \y RN \ iN i A DTTH! west « SW SS = = - MiG By: ss ox { J = =EX — 5 W= 7 SOONG Li \ AP Say, SQpPs N Se VN Zs xK\ ES € | p, g Avy raps SAE \ f] Ys ‘e rN = a i f A (i Z QIAN iF a } GZ < A\ “aa Y aN Yow 4] — 9 | 4 Pasa) — in LZ; SSS LN Z S na i : S d SP \ pe \ 1 /) | F f, MN i} ! Ai ig } if i Z ; HY, : NENH {i ; Bh tt We tr Ra ha ins 4) rT | i} Mt ni eset LT | t { 1 UU ta ae a iil HEE : TS1() HE Ha | ‘fi SS —— ( EY PTT sa a a il eM i = |. spp ooogoooonoEooGeee Y am = == ————e — Westminster Abbey. turn to one scarcely less imposing, telling of human sympathy for the suffering and love of man to man. We refer to the new St. Thomas’ Hospital, built 1868-71, on the Albert embankment, on the Surrey side of the Thames. The foundation of the hospital links it, however, to the past, —a past less remote, it is true, than that of which the minster and the fortress are the witnesses, but yet removed by more .than three centuries from our own day. During his brief reign, Edward VI. established this charitable institution and devoted to it the priory and 518 VOYAGES iW (ay = ee St. Thomas’ Hospital. AND TRAVELS. pursued its career of usefulness on the spot where the royal boy established it. In that year, however, one of the many railways which weave their mighty nets about London, required a little corner of the Hospi- tal estate. The intrusion was sanctioned by Parliament, and in a few years the unlucky patients of St. Thomas’ would have had an end- less succession of heavy-rumbling trains and shrieking engines passing, day and night, within — a few yards of their cots. Fortunately, how- ever, the governors of the hospital discovered te that, under a clause of a certain act of Par- liament, they could compel the railway to pur-— chase the entire estate. By arbitration, the amount fixed as its price was the enormous — sum of two hundred and ninety thousand pounds sterling,— about a million and a half — of our money. Furnished with these liberal resources, the directors of the Hospital, seeking their new location, bought a great tract of land, — eight ; . d acres and a half, two-thirds as much as the area covered by the Tower of London, —just across the river from the Parliament Houses, — on the southern bank of the Thames. Here this magnificent building, or rather series of buildings, — for the Hospital has been built on - the “pavilion ” plan, — was erected, and it now stands a very model of beauty, elegance, and convenience. Thousands of people visit the Tower and the Abbey, it is true, to one who goes to see the Hospital, and yet we cannot be wrong in saying that nothing in all Lon- don is more to be admired and honored than this grand provision for the alleviation of hu- man suffering. A great feature of the English metropolis: LONDON. } wes —, ox PARK. y A JAMES’ ST. fill oe a > * ’ = ie od a © 520 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. is its chain of parks,— Hyde Park, the Green, and St. James’, which touch at the angles, and may be regarded as forming part of a space of uninterrupted pleasure- ground. Hach of them has its peculiar character. St. James’, lying among palaces, and from an early period surrounded by the fashionable residences of the West End, is the courtier; a few steps from the main avenues, and the visitor loses himself in exquisite sylvan retreats, like that of the picture on the preceding page, in which he can scarcely believe himself so near the paved streets and the stone buildings of mighty London. St. James’ Park was originally a mere appendage to the palace, and, though open to the public, a favorite resort of the king and court. Charles Il., we are told, spent much of his leisure here, and it was in this Park that his ways of playing with his dogs and feeding the swans, Colley Cibber tells us, “made the common people adore him.” All the London parks, except Kensington, which has preserved the symmetrical arrangement in which Queen Anne delighted, are laid out with great simplicity, in what is called the. English style: a natural or artificial stream, on which light skiffs are sailing about; a rustic pavilion here and there; tall and venerable trees standing quite apart from one another; flowers and ornamental plants on the edges and in groups 3 but, above all, extensive lawns of which the public is allowed the fullest enjoyment. If the turf grows worn in places, little portable fences are set up, which are always respected, and the soft moist climate of England, combined with the gar- dener’s care, soon restores the verdant velvet. Kensington Gardens are properly a portion of Hyde Park. The ground was originally purchased by William III., then laid out by Queen Anne, and a court end gradually gathered about them. Nowhere are to be seen more aged and venerable trees than those in Kensington Gardens, and their solitary seclusion has a look of the last century. Of all the places of out-of-door resort in the neighborhood of London, Kew is by far the most important and frequented. It is some six or seven miles from Charing Cross, and reached both by rail and steamboat. “It is the finest botanic garden in the world,” says a French author; and an Hnglish writer says: “The middle classes haye here, and strictly as their own property, one of the most expensive of modern re- finements, and one of the most delightful,—a Winter Garden. It is not called so,” he adds; “it was not in any way formed with such an object; but it is not the less true, and it happens thus: an immense proportion of the collection of plants requires either to be grown altogether or to be occasionally sheltered in glass houses; consequently there are some twenty of these structures at Kew, most of them hand- some, some very large, and one, the Palm House, so large and splendid that it forms in itself a magnificent Winter Garden.” vg we REE TH, 5 HE We Hh duit i KENSINGTON GARDENS. LONDON. 522 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Since Kew first came into possession of the royal family, about 1730, when the Prince of Wales (the son of George IH. and father of George III.) took a long lease . — PSS S : dens an uninterrupted stream of floral and botanical wealth, The prince began by laying out the pleasure-grounds, — but died before their completion, and the princess-dowager con- tinued the work on a_ liberal scale. Sir W. Chambers was — called in as architect, and the ex- otic collection, which was destined to be the glory of Kew, was com- . menced. During the reign of George was s« UT. «Kew became the favorite royal resi- dence, and statesmen were busied with the im- provement of its gardens, especially Uord Bute, and that Duke of Argyle whom Horace Walpole calls ) \ x e\ “the tree-monger.” ASSY All the expeditions of discovery of the last hundred years have incidentally remembered Kew, and have made it unrivalled in its collection of the flora of the southern hemisphere. In 1840, a change for the better took place in the management of the Gardens, when by a = * act of Parliament they were placed under the manage- ment of the Commissioners of Woods and Forests, and from being a private royal garden, became a public, | national one. How great the change thus produced, may be seen by an entertaining passage from a letter written by Dr. Lindley, the person to whose endeavors this change was due. “Look,” he says, “at the state of things in former days. You rang at a bell by the side of a wooden gate, which of itself was perfectly emblematic of the secrecy, the unnatural privacy of the working principle Latania Borbonica. within. You were let in as if by stealth,—as if the gate-keepers were ashamed to see you come, or you yourself were ashamed to be seen \ _ there. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 523 And when you were there, you were dodged by an official, as if you were likely to carry off the St. Helena willow in your button-hole, or one of the smaller hot-houses in your waistcoat-pocket. You entered, unwelcome; you rambled about, sus- pected; and you were let out with manifest gladness at your departure. “ How gratifying is the contrast now! You go in by one of the most beautiful entrances that have been erected in modern times, whether we regard the effect of Cedar. Kew Gardens. ‘the whole design, or the taste shown in the separate details. There is no unlocking of a dark door; you walk in freely. Turn to the left, you wander amid the more secluded scenery of the old gardens, until you reach the hot-houses and the adjacent beds. Or walk straight forward along the bold, broad promenade, immediately after you enter; visit the conservatory on your right, and at the end of this promenade turn to the left, and ramble along the still finer avenue adorned on either side by 524 : VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. flower-beds, lawns, and shrubberies, and terminated by the great Palm-House itself. The student is free to enjoy access to all these daily increasing stores, and eyery person is free to enjoy the pleasure which the view of them cannot fail to confer.” The Gardens of Kew are divided into two distinct sections, —the Botanic Garden, properly so called, and the pleasure garden, or Arboretum. Both are laid out in the English style, but in the Botanic Garden the straight lime and the semicircle are noi absolutely banished. Here is a large pond, and here are the green-houses and mu- seums. Only the great Palm-House, or Winter Garden, is situated in the Arboretum. The invention of the hot-house is, we may say, the last refinement of the gar- dener’s art. Without the aid of these enclosed and covered parterres, with diapha- nous walls, we could cultivate in each climate only the flora proper to that climate, or to those very nearly resembling it. The beautiful plants of tropical and sub- tropical zones, and those of the southern hemisphere, would be known to us only by — description, and by the herbaria of botanic travellers. And hot-houses themselves would be impossible without glass, that wondrous material which has been in so many ways an indispensable and powerful auxiliary to civilization. The wealthy citizens of Rome, indeed, in the last days of the republic and under the Ceesars, had in their gardens little sheltered spaces covered with laminz of translucent stone, into which they withdrew, during cold nights and the stormy days of the winter, the del- icate Asiatic and Hgyptian plants which they reared carefully in vases placed upon marble efagéres. Hven after the early use of glass, the shelters con- structed were more like the hot-beds of a yegetable garden, than anything we deem worthy of the name of a green-house at the present day. It was not until the sixteenth, or, possibly, the fifteenth century, that any use was made of glass on a large scale, and these first hot-houses were orange- SWAT Eu PUL, PE as? =. i ¢ wetee yy) pop) wine ries, in which orange, laurel, and myrtle EMER CCNA E trees were set for the winter, or fore- ing houses to bring forward by artificial heat the vegetables and fruits of summer. But with the explorations of the Portuguese, the Spaniards, the Dutch, and the Genoese, came home to English gardeners some notion of the vegetable marvels of the tropics, ——S SQN INTERIOR OF HOT-HOUSE. KEW. 526 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. and the desire sprung up to lodge these foreign wonders amid conditions that would | secure their complete development in so unfamiliar a climate. . Not until the beginning of the present century, however, has a taste for cuture- under glass really spread itself thoroughly among the higher classes of Europe, and been carried to a great height of luxury, especially in England and in Germany. The hot- houses of Kew, now twenty-one in number, are among the finest in the world. The eS Pape ad VA —— Bar , On; PELE ony) LZ ee ae es Bee PUNY De ee eae ee OEE BEES 77 Ware e Be emee gabe: ~* LA oF a rv. oN Auraucaria Imbricata. Kew. largest of them is four hundred and eighty-two feet in length, and covers an acre and’ two thirds of ground. This is a temperate house, and has its roof removed during the summer.. It is devoted to the flora of the sub-tropical and temperate regions of the southern hemisphere. ' The great Palm House (see page 528), though not as large, is more remarkable. It consists, as will be observed, of a centre and two wings; the former a hundred im 7 i Pa i rari TIM ] imi j my Mn LAA \ WY ff Paes 7 (MY fl De RG ces aie \ 4 iy HA NY } | i DME SSO aye te Mee. ins iN { , i ? ye Pies Ra Dee M NEN ct Mi gant Se ee ih ai | a } \t ma NIA H hs Nh ii He rel ISIE He ape Uh ‘i ot Aa iy Ulta i, i lt Mh, ly ih : a. | a YA dh lb ae ip WANs ‘ NALANK At one Hai Mn Keagiytil Wy Me Ni, Iss, zi (hans oe Wee Nt in - I SRE is ENN ~ Dae Sy Guy, VIEW FROM RICHMOND HILL. PUL 4 the Vi WN at Mi EN Ny aN / 6 ; Bee SN IK wee (ice 5h) ti ) ANT Yan bon Haven \ vi litt Ai ea ANS Ne Kena « 1) ¢ ¥ Loh Au de Pe Ha TS AA NY y rth ita) eh i s Wi Hedy \ ill "hy ie Wy IN Cae qf " he, sly . i V uy i$ , hy \ ex 4 fy an | \ v eran MRi a alah PMA HnGNN i BAe onc 5 a ee ueTn dN 528 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. feet wide and sixty-six high; the latter, fifty feet wide and thirty high, and the length of the whole three hundred and sixty-two feet. It is heated by hot water which cir- culates in pipes, of which the whole length is twenty-four thousand feet. A gallery runs round the lofty central portion, which is reached by a very elegant circular staircase of iron, looking almost as light as the climbing plants which festoon it, adorning it, in their season, with some of the most superb of all known flowers. The color of the glass is an interesting novelty. The object desired was to admit all possible light, but to exclude the fiercest of the heat-rays. It had been found by experiment that these heat-rays alone caused the injury palms were found to suffer when exposed unshaded under glass, and the same method determined that a pale- yellowish shade in the glass was that which most effectually debarred passage to these heat-rays of highest temperature. Palms and plantains, banyans, the Caffre bread- ETN AANINY WN AN AERA Palm House. Kew. tree, the papyrus, and countless other splendid strangers from the tropics, adorn this great hot-house,—none more eccentric than the Latania Borbonica, (see page 523.) In the Fern House grow those great tree-ferns which are characteristic of the tropics, and recall the vegetation of an earlier geologic period. The Cyathea dealbata (page 524) is the tallest of its race in New Zealand, and is nothing less than a tree in height, while it has in every other respect the greatest similarity to the low growth of our woods of the northern temperate zone. Further up the river is Richmond, on the south bank, which rises )pehind the village into Richmond Hill. From this spot a beautiful view of the river (see page 527) gives the traveller an entirely new idea of Father Thames. All the way through London it is the stream of crowded traffic, and too frequently its waters are muddy and unsightly; but higher up the old river-god becomes the patron of elegance, ease, 4 ; “s ~ a | i | | | | | i ved by W.Forrest. Ow LOCK, AID SOPH » \ (ON-IHE WAVENEY.) SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 529 ll I tl | HU Ul il I | its gentle way through s/ a wide extent of dark-green waving woods ; through openings here and there we catch a glimpse of =. (@ cornfield, meadow, and rural homestead ; gray church- ~ towers dot the distance, and give a tone of tranquillity and dignity to the landscape. In these woody retreats, one understands what is meant by “green England,” and would linger there for hours with no companion saye the tranquil deer or the timorous rabbit. Sir Walter Scott has a paragraph in his “ Heart of Mid-Lothian” well describing this charming scene. % They paused for a moment,” he says, “on the brow of the hill, to gaze on the unrivalled landscape which it presented. A huge sea of verdure, with crossing and intersecting promontories of massive and tufted groves, was tenanted by numberless flocks and herds which seemed to wander unrestrained and unbounded through the rich pastures. The Thames, here turreted with villas, and there garlanded with forests, 530 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. moved on slowly and placidly, like the mighty monarch of the scene, to whom all its other beauties were but accessories, and bore on his bosom a hundred barks and skiffs, whose white sails and gayly fluttering pennons gave life to the whole.” Still further up the river is the old palace of Hampton Court, with its memories of Wolsey and of William III., of Queen Anne, and the first Hanoverian kings. In its present estate it is mainly a show-place, though a certain number of court pen- sioners are lodged in one portion of it. Its garden and grounds are open daily without restraint to the public, and its state apartments every day of the week except Friday, from ten till four or six, according to the time of year. The number of visitors is enormous,—ten thousand a week in summer, it is said. Bird’s-Eye View of Hampton Court. The old place belonged originally to the Knights of St. John, and was then the centre of a vast estate consisting of some thousand acres, lying on both sides the river. Here, in this wide sandy level, which the wintry floods of the Thames inun- dated and fertilized, where little corn was grown and rabbits were the chief habitants, lived a priest and a few of the humbler brethren of the Order, with no great store of the riches which made some of the wealthy Preceptories of St. John objects of envy to barons and burghers. This estate, in 1515, the proud Wolsey, then in his crescent fame and power, pur- SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 531 chased of the Prior of St. John. The poor manor-house was taken away; the rank meadows which skirted the Thames were transformed into curious pleasnre-gardens; a great palace arose as if by magic at the bidding of the lavish and tasteful cardinal ; and here, two years later, he made his home, surrounding himself with the pomp of kings, and maintaining a state almost above that of his royal master. But the day of his triumph was short-lived; no later than 1526 he made his beautiful palace a peace-offering to that master whose jealousy and ire had already begun to blaze against him, and in 1530 it was at this very Hampton Court that Henry received the news of his disgraced favorite’s death at Leicester Abbey. From this time many of the Hampton Court. Wolsey’s Palace. important events of Henry VIIIs life are connected with Hampton Court, and the king built a new hall. Late in Queen Elizabeth’s reign, Paul Hentzner, visiting England, thus speaks of the palace: “The chief area is paved with square stones. In its centre is a foun- tain that throws up water, covered with a gilt crown, on the top of which is the figure of Justice, supported by columns of white and black marble. The chapel of this palace is most splendid, in which the queen’s closet is quite transparent, having its windows of crystal. We were led into two chambers, called the presence, or cham- bers of audience, which shone with tapestry of gold and silver, and silk of drfterent 532 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. ~ colors ; under the canopy of state are these words embroidered in pearl, ‘ Vivat Hen- ricus Octavus” In her Majesty’s bedchamber the bed is covered with very costly coverlids of silk. At no great distance from this room we were shown a bed, the tester of which was worked by Anne Boleyn, and presented by that lovely, accom- plished queen to her husband, Henry VIII. All the other rooms, being very numer- ous, are adorned with tapestry of gold, silver, and velvet, in some of which were woven history-pieces, in others Turkish and Armenian dresses, all extremely natural; ” and he adds in conclusion, “all its walls shine with gold and silver.” In the time of James I., Hampton Court was a favorite royal residence. Here Shakespeare’s company performed on a New Year’s day; and here, on the 14th of —s 2 9 a= a —— Hampton Court. First Courtyard. the same month, King James held an assembly of the divines of the Church of HEng- land, and argued with them on rites and ceremonies and dogmas, and “peppered them soundly,”—in his own opinion at least ! ‘ Charles I. spent a good deal of time here; and it was also a favorite residence of Cromwell and of Charles II. But to William III. the palace owes the great northern quadrangle, an enormous mass of apartments built in heavy brickwork, and somewhat incongruous with the earlier Tudor structure. Here William fell, while riding in the Park, and in this palace, a few days later, he breathed his last. Finally, Queen Anne and the first and second George held court here; and then the old place was neglected and solitary, until, in 1838, it was opened, as we have SCENES IN MANY LANDS 533 Windsor Castle. said, to the public, who now throng its apartments, and wander and picnic at will in its noble park. Entering it from the west, the visitor comes first to that part of the palace which was the original Hampton Court of Wolsey, (see page 531.) Good taste has been at work here to obliterate the barbarous alterations of the Georgian era. The beautiful twisted chimneys, of which Wolsey left so many models, are restored; the square sash-windows have given place to the Gothic mullion and lattice, and the whole front is once more harmonious and picturesque. Passing through the gateway, we enter the first courtyard, a noble quadrangle in fine repair. The long rows of apartments on either side show how well able is this palace to accommodate visitors by hundreds, as it was required to do in Wolsey’s time; and it is quite interesting to thread the interior parallel passages, and see how ingeniously concealed were the kitch- ens and offices, where the needful work of the household was carried on within, while all the exterior had an air of elegance and repose. 534 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. “a The entrance to the second court is by arched passages under the great Clock Tower, the central mass in the illustration, page 532. This building contains Henry VIil’s magnificent hall, reached by a broad staircase. This splendid room is in the finest order; tapestries as old as the time of Henry hang upon the walls; its noble roof has been cleaned, and gilded, and colored; gay banners float beneath its corbels; its win- dows have been filled with modern painted glass. This is all in good taste, and yet it is a little too fine and new to be entirely pleasing. One wishes for a few years’ smoke from one of the old-fashioned fireplaces, to give these bright things their proper mellow tone. A certain curious bit of sarcasm has found its place in the restoration of the painted windows. ‘The original windows were set in during the brief two years of Cascades. Virginia Water. Henry VIIL’s reign in which Anne Boleyn was queen, and» they exhibited every- where the arms and devices of her family united with those of the king. Mr. Wille- ment, to whom was entrusted the restoration, has satirically set forth in six alter- nate windows the pedigrees of Henry’s six wives, and in the intermediate ones the heraldic badges of the royal Bluebeard himself, and filled the west window with heraldic records in the same way, so as to make it quite a chapter in English his- tory. ‘This we must rather regret as being a little out of keeping with a faithful restoration of things just as they were. The second quadrangle, it will be seen, is a little smaller than the first, and the external architecture has been barbarized by Kent’s “improvements” in 1732. In this i wi" hy » [28 7 i . _ rT ” is tJ . De a vo Fi ’ a aa ily , ‘ey te iy f uae 7 q t ' i ay 0 ® 4 i} u «| ' ~ . ’ , ' oJ . ’ ’ ‘ 4 ‘ ” : * i - 2 tic & 8 4 o ay 4 4 SA a Ue ut) bee | OHNE i . wy AU tate Ni} HN li Wy | } | z.']' i] = 2 SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 535 sourt stands the chapel of which Hentzner spoke, but the splendors of its earlier time are quite gone, and it is mostly a patchwork of successive “ beautifiers.” The great third quadrangle is King William’s share of Hampton Court. Here are the state apartments of which the Picture Gallery is the most important, contain- ing several magnificent Holbeins, portraits; the famous Charles I. by Vandyke; Lely’s “Beauties of the Court of Charles II.,” of whom we, with our modern taste, can scarcely find one to admire; Kneller’s “ Beauties of the Court of Queen Mary,” as uniformly West Wycombe. Park. dull as their predecessors were uniformly coarse and impudent; then a room full of pictures by West; and last and best, the famous Cartoons of Raphael, the wonder and study of artists. Emerging from the palace, we stand to admire the scene before us. A broad terrace is bounded by the velvet of the lawn interspersed with parterres of gay flowers and fountains at regular intervals; the view terminates on each side by a quadrant of lime-trees and an inner quadrant of fine old yews, and, regularly placed, three grand 536 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. avenues open before us. The central one consists of double rows of elms, and the space between them is a long and narrow sheet of water. To the south is a second avenue of the same kind of trees, and another to the north, terminated by the tower of Kingston Church. In the full luxuriance of their summer foliage, and with their ‘ stately height, these avenues of trees have no superior in England. At the southwest corner is the entrance to what is called the private garden, a very curious specimen of the old-fashioned, long neglected, but now once more appre- : ciated garden of a past age, with its raised terraces, formal flower-beds, and long, leafy arcades. But we have not yet seen all that the immediate neighborhood of London affords West Wilton. Park. in the way of palaces. Windsor (see page 533), crowning its hill-top, and waving from its highest point the flag which tells that the sovereign is in residence, has long dominated the landscape, and attracted the eye from miles away. We shall not enter upon a description of this palace, but limit ourselves to a picture from the magnificent park in which it stands (page 534). Windsor Forest, as it is called, —and indeed it is more rightly a forest than a park,—has been a delight to poets, from Shakespeare’s time to the present day. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 537 The landscape gardening at Windsor may perhaps have stimulated the public taste within the last century. Certain it is that many exquisite parks lie beyond the royal forest, and nowhere is water more elegantly employed than in the parks of Wycombe and West Wilton, not far from Windsor. One more picture from “ Merrie England,” and we bid adieu to the land of our fathers. This is Winchester, in Hampshire County, ten or twelve miles from Southampton, the great seaport of the south coast. ‘The old town contains two important and very ancient buildings, —the Cathedral, seen near the centre, in the accompanying engray- ing, and the Hospital of St. Cross, more in the background to the left. The cathe- dral has a look of great antiquity; its low, massive tower, its immense length from east to west, and the gray, ancient color of its walls, tell of a time and a civili- zation strangely differing from our own. An earlier structure, called St. Hthelwold’s Cathedral, was erected on this spot by the pious care of St. Hthelwold, in the tenth century, a very considerable portion of which yet remains ; indeed, it seems probable that most of the older building exists to the present day, forming the huge and _hid- den frame-work on which the sumptuous taste of Bishop Wykeham hung the more embroidered and delicate tracery of a later age. The tower is a noble specimen of the Anglo-N orman style, as perfect now as the day it was built. Its long, narrow, round-headed windows throw a generous light into the choir below. Viewed from without, the Cathedral of Winchester is entirely wanting in that grand pyramidal form which marks the Gothic. But it is a very museum of styles, from the early Saxon to the latest Gothic, and as such profoundly interesting to the student. The most striking feature of the building on the outside is its length, being from east to west five hundred and forty-five feet long. About a mile from the city, embowered in trees, stands the old Hospital, which, next after the Cathedral, is: the most interesting building in Winchester. This was founded in the early part of the thirteenth century, —the period at which the major- ity of religious houses .and charitable institutions came into existence,— by a bishop who was brother to King Stephen, and it seems to have been the prototype of our modern “Old Men’s Home,” being designed for the support of “thirteen poor men past their strength,” furnishing to them lodging, clothing, and a daily allowance of wheaten bread, meat, and ale. The visitor can almost believe that the old time has returned, to look in upon this little fraternity, for instance, on the anniversary of the birth of the founder, when collected around the ancient hearth of the refectory, robed in their long black garments, on which the silver crosses glitter in the light. The most interesting portion of the establishment, in an architectural sense, is the church, built in the reign of Stephen, containing some admirable specimens of Anglo-Norman architecture. It is built. in the form of a cross, with a stately central tower which is open to a considerable height above the vaulting of the nave, and 538 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. gives light to the choir. The ponderous pillars, with their ornamentation still fresh and sharp-cut, tell of the early part of the twelfth century. Here and there Gothi encroachments have taken place, marking the dates at which additions were made to the original structure. The choir and some parts of the church are payed with glazed tiles,‘some of them ornamented with Saxon emblems, and here and there one is seen bearing the words “Have mynde.” ade”: But we have already lingered too long amid these fascinating relics of early days. ; England, with all its picturesque charms, its dear memories, its massive splendor, must not detain us. Somewhat more we are yet to see of our own land, and then our Picturesque Tour of the World is ended. . ae i as ae OS S| OS. SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 539 UNITED STATES. SY A PICTURESQUE tour of our own country, how- LEMNDRE ‘ BAX \ \ ’ ever brief and rapid, will naturally begin with the moun- \ ' tains of New Hampshire, — the “ White Hills,” first men- tioned in print in 1672, by John Josselyn, in a quaint old book entitled, “New Eng- land’s Rarities Discovered.” | The group of mountains really consists of two ranges, the Franconia on _ the west, and the Mount Washington chain on the east. The accompanying engraving represents the former, looking northward from the Pemigewasset Valley. “The dis- tant notch,” says Starr King, speaking of this view, “does not yet show the sav- ageness of its teeth; but the arrangement of the principal Franconia mountains in half sexagon, so that we get a strong impression of their mass, and yet see their 540 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. separate steely edges, gleaming with different lights, running down to the valley, is one of the rare pictures in New Hampshire. What a noble combination, —those keen contours of the Haystack pyramids, and the knotted muscles of Mount Lafayette beyond! He hides his rough head as far as possible behind his neighbor, but pushes out that limb which looks like an arm from a statue of a struggling Hercules, that some Titan Angelo might have hewn.” On the eastern side, the view in the depths of “the Glen,” which makes the head-piece to this chapter, — so deep of the mountain above it cannot be perceived, —is all that we have space to give. But from this east- = 2 : : : ern side, without doubt, — from the : = | little plateau at the foot of Mount ‘Washington, where the Glen House stands, — is to be obtained the near- est and most satisfying view of the grander mountains of the New Hampshire group. Approaching Boston, the me- tropolis of New England, our artist has represented, in the beautiful engraving on the opposite page, a group of the buildings of Harvard University, including Memorial Hall, at the extreme right; Gore Hall, extending from the left towards the centre ; Appleton Chapel, of which the spire and the rear portion are - = seen in the background; and Weld Old Mill. Medford. Hall, at the extreme left of the picture. The college buildings in all number over thirty, beginning with plain old “ Massachusetts,” which was erected in 1718, and ending with the stately Gothic structure, erected 1870-76, at the cost of half a million dollars, wherein the alumni of Harvard have expressed their love and honor for the memory “of the sons of Harvard who perilled and laid down their lives to preserve us as a nation.” The Memorial Hall consists of three main divisions; the central division or tran- sept, under the lofty tower, being finished with great elegance, and haying twenty- eight marble tablets inlaid into the walls, bearing the names of the graduates or in the forest that the great shoulder — _ TA SRE OWT aise Cite or . 4 a a ; : re a , Gu : irises vii ‘ rae ‘J _ a s- i es ‘ i i \ é 4 r 4 a ‘y ' te at , Bee § ) hk) J ‘ ear . * * i i Rte , met a ‘. 4 és _ ; a, a em 4 = ee get i . el i) fe ' \ i i | AY HAW nae Pe i 2 | : i i ve Wea i) 4 ‘i i i 4 a ai a a titi: << $ =< = se === i 1 | ; Saya rare Airs \ 1 1}) | HI WT a ii!) WIN t } | \ i i) | na CAMBRIDGE. HARVARD COLLEGE. 542 | VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. students of the University who fell in the war of the rebellion. The section at the left is a long nave, sixty feet in height from the floor to the apex of the roof, adorned with pictures and statues, and occupied as the dining-hall of the college. The section at the right, known as the Sanders Theatre, is a beautiful auditorium capable of seating fifteen hundred persons, and used for lectures and concerts as well as for fhe literary festivals of the college. Gore Hall was erected in 1841, and greatly enlarged in 1876-7, the better to accommodate the magnificent library — numbering, in January, 1878, one hundred and seventy thousand yol- umes — which is lodged here; Ap- pleton Chapel, built of light sand- stone, with richly-stained windows, was dedicated in 1858, and serves for the daily devotional exercise and the Sunday services of the college; and, lastly, Weld Hall, erected in 1872, is one of the finest and most spacious of the college dormitories. To the lovers of antiquity, two very interesting structures in the neighborhood of Boston are the Old Mill, or Powder House (see page 540), which stands on a little eminence near the high-road, a few miles out of the city on the north- east; and the old Cradock Mansion, at Medford, known as the “Old Fort.” The quaint old tower is about thirty feet high and fifteen in di- ameter at its base. Originally a windmill, and owned by one Mallet, who did much Cradock Mansion. Medford. profitable business in grinding his neighbors’ corn from three adjacent counties, it was sold in 1747 to the province for a powder-magazine ; in 1774, was plundered by Gen- eral Gage; in 1775, it became the powder-magazine of the American army before Bos- ton, and remained in the use of the state until a half a century ago, when the maga- zine at Cambridgeport was erected, and the old tower passed again into private ownership. The old Cradock Mansion is of much greater antiquity than the mill, whose date SCENES IN MANY LANDS. Cah = irae i Wen) Ky Neh WV \) 4 | hi i me : TN Cap satic yt Uey ' fin ‘| Wary i pe ari i Wo ie ta " a mn! Wye 0 aOR ; 7) “ Wy) “\\ a 542 ‘ ce go" +, a xd ~S 7% Y AY Near Calicoon, on the Erie Railway. is fixed with some uncertainty at or near 1720. But the Cradock House was undoubt- edly erected about 1634, at which time a large grant of land was made to Matthew Cradock, first governor of the Massachusetts Company in England. Oddly enough, this same governor never set foot in America, or saw the. house which to this day bears 544 VOYAGES AND TRAVETS. his name; but it was built by his agents, or “servants,” as they were styled, who founded the plantation by the river Mystic, and carried on an extensive colonial trade. It is a brick house, with walls half a yard in thickness; heavy iron bars secured the arched windows at the back; the entrance-door was encased in iron; and a single pane of glass set in iron, placed in the back wall of the western chimney, overlooked the approach from the town. “Standing for a century and a half,’ says Drake, “in the midst of an extensive and open field, enclosed by palisades and guarded with gates, a foe could not approach unseen by day, nor find a vantage-ground from which to assail the inmates.” “The handiwork of the first planters in the vicinity of Bos- ton,” says the same author, “one of the first, if not the very first of the brick houses erected within the government of John Winthrop, this house, a unique specimen of the architecture of the early settlers, must be considered a gem of its kind.” East and West Branches of the Delaware. Every reader must join with this enthusiastic antiquary in the wish he expresses that the house should be carefully restored and set in order, and “allowed to stand where it has stood for near two hundred and forty years.” Leaying New England, we glance at the Empire State, whose capital, Albany, xnd Schenectady, a fine old city on the Mohawk, are represented in the accompany- ing steel engravings. To form an idea of the varied and beautiful scenery of New York no way perhaps is better than to follow one of the great railway lines crossing it from east to west,—the Erie road, for instance, which, from New York city to Niagara Falls, a distance of four hundred and forty-four miles, passes through one long, enchanting panorama, filling the eye with ever new delight. The first three hours of this journey take the traveller through a region of wonderful richness and fertility of soil, past farms which are famous all the country over for their produce, and an exquisite luxuriance of woodland, with every shade of green and every variety of foliage. 7 revi anny 2\ << oan THE STARUCCA VIADUCT. 546 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. Further on, however, comes the grander scene- ry. — the Delaware, with its devious windings far below. and the Palisades of the Delaware, rising high and rugged against the sky. In some places, the abrupt cliffs descend to the water’s edge, so that one wonders at the engineering skill which found a place for the road: in others, the river has left deposits of rich alluvial soil, where tall trees have grown, ana fresh green meadows afford abundant pastur- age to cattle. Such is the neighborhood of Cal- icoon, near the Pennsyl- vania border (see page 543), and such also is the scene where the east and west branches of the Delaware (see page 544), two mountain streams, unite to form the stately river which, after its long and _ fertil- izing course, presently falls into Delaware Bay, and so into the mighty ocean. A few miles beyond this point the railway makes a loop into Pennsylvania, and it is here a= that we come upon that majestic viaduct which ==} Cropsey employs as the salient feature in his famous picture, “ An American Autumn.” The Watkins’ Glen. Starucca Viaduct spans a great valley near the town of Susquehanna, with its eighteen arches of solid masonry, each fifty feet in width. The length of this great bridge is twelve hundred feet, and its height a 547 SCENES IN MANY LANDS. Yaz — — SN N on SS ASS zs i SS : y x of :, WSS aD = : = SSSSEN ( SSN Ob : . SR = Se a) 2 aN A ne We AUN a ee) tae on ae) sa P= ger eS = Clone beaes a eu, we! as oe fe ae eo oe oa Seis en tee ey ol = Sette ee oo g Pe go a oer eer yer See SS aun) So Ss mM a: epee a seat 2 fee: es Sit ae ee ie ee ae on! so —_ (ex poh is 05 ee pei Toa ee Se hea aa wooed ere teerinas | _— = epithe rstemee Cotati Gaeta ate So as ce Sa ae) er vege tO Cet ah ae oases eel oes gar es a) Sa 8 is a) Go mesa cant ccna a es P sk Bao CSOGE SS s ¢sec sa Tie ete ae) 5S 5s x 2 n Y oO F& so S68 US a0 tt So Oe to ock id r acted by the h dashes a clear little sol 2 atti are ft: in the / 1C we 1 it ate, ar st irregul Portage Falls and Bridge. eat ough the gr 1] thr a ski d ge 546), at the bottom of wh ‘ds. In the home of this water-nymph it is always stwar industry and ay we row ix hundred feet, ing ou ntless falls and rap mu stream in cou Still cont fame of Watkins’ Glen (see pa tic and triumphant, telling the depth of five or s its proud story of human > 548 VOVAGES AND TRAVELS. cool, even at high noon of the warmest summer day, and the traveller follows with delight the series of alcoves, stairways, and bridges, each ending in some delightful surprise, with some fresh beauty beyond it, till he has gone so far down, that die little narrow strip of blue sky looks strangely far and remote above his head. Some- what dangerous, too, are these dripping steps and narrow paths; but all precious things have their price, and one does not pay too dearly for a ramble in this lovely = F iI ni t STi i my 5 } S e : : aS } TNA | glen, by the mo- a Ais ANS Sane ; | ewes ale ANON | Want ment’s alarm with x 3 z g = :l iy ; Zn SUI = tes t Bh WN | Nil i = | a SG ee | ve which every now : => i apliail Ee AINA Z i = joss 3 = SS : & NS x & yf . c = Salty, as Wat ili. C7 Awa and then he clings — = yu f\ / ——— =H ew) ~ SS ea hall s VA es alts NP *]: eos a ey | | TY) imc hi to the railing, and E 3 a mall} SSS MANGA SE AAHE HUN a AA SSS BE Sees = / | AE Sa x SPEECH sie, \ ‘ i eA ee a j SHA pe Sa BERS ~ steadies himself ME a Sap Z ae MENS Hi ANN WAI) HUAN VA A , Ne af RGA Neue upon the slippery plank. k ‘pee Three miles further is another exquisite bit of woodland and Mh water, the Havana Glen (see page SAAN 549), by no means so grand as its more famous neighbor, but with a fine delicate charm of its own. About seventy miles before reaching Niagara, the road crosses the Genesee (see pages 547 and 548), which at this point leaps ie We RCP WED A in three falls to the level of the : ed NN Ne Ex’ valley below. The great bridge is eight hundred ay Se eee Zy-e= feet long, a marvellous structure, so ingeniously a aie 2 = planned that any single timber in it can be removed WEN en eee “§ and replaced at pleasure. cf” OMS, ees on. IE le ee BS ae The walls of the ravine are nearly four hun- a 2 oy 4 ‘S 3 ~HVS Rog eG (SRS NS cx! FG Ress 2 = F > = “he eg |S iS SOE a dred feet in perpendicular height, and the effect is Portage Falls and Bridge. strange indeed as one looks down upon the river ee see (wat i ’ ’ r ae MM ibile fh! : 7 \ wees 54 ? { , ié 4 5 pe Oe ae i 4 pa tienes AAS Piste eee eT ’ Ay eee % h st ay Cwm ‘ f 1s at if an u = Bt) Z } G} )) Se 4A eG a mts HH H ily Hitt HH nat Wik Wi ARH SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 549 -and the canal, each making its way down the valley,—the stream with its three leaps, ana the canal with its level surface and prosaic locks. Hach of the three falls is well worth seeing. ‘The upper, or Horse-shoe Falls, are about seventy feet high; the middle falls, about a quarter of a mile down the river, are over a hundred feet in height; then, for two miles beyond, the river winds between perpendicular walls of rock, at last finding a precipitous stairway, down which it plunges, disappears for a moment under a shelving rock, is compressed into a narrow pass fifteen feet wide, makes another leap ot twenty feet, and then drops into a deep and shady pool, whence it quietly steals away, as if fatigued with all its frolics. A poetic mind naturally com- pares this valley — charming with its lofty banks and rocky walls, its retinue of waterfalls and cas- cades, varying in size and in every detail of beauty — with the grand and simple majesty of Niagara, to which we at last come: a scene of which so much has been writ- ten both in verse and prose, that we hesitate to do more than call attention to the admirable illustra- tions in which our artist has rep- resented this grandest of natural wonders (pages 550, 551, and 552), and to add a few facts which may aid imagination in completing the picture. The river Niagara, which is but thirty-three miles long, in that short distance accomplishes a de- scent of three hundred and thirty- tour feet, and when we consider tnat through its comparatively nar- row channel the waters of the four great upper lakes are poured on their way to the St. Lawrence, it is Havana Glen. not to be wondered at that the Falls of Niagara present the stupendous spectacle that all the world admires. About sixteen miles from Lake Hrie, the current of the river grows narrow aud becomes extremely swift; this is the commencement of the Rapids, =| 650 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. — which continue for about a mile, making a descent of fifty-two feet. Then comes the cataract itself, a plunge of a hundred and sixty-four feet on the American side and a hundred and fifty on the Canadian; the sweep of water being divided by Goat Island, a rocky ledge a thousand feet wide, which leaves the American fall a breadth of eleven hundred feet, and the Canadian nearly double that width. The Canadian fall is the famous Horse-shoe, its curve Sz | extending up the central part of the current. Its =e waters, sweeping down with immense rapidity, —s make a great leap clear from the rocky wall = ==: =. over which they plunge, and the space be- . tween this sheet of water and the rock = of a friable texture, and eroded by the ceaseless action of the spray. This forms the “Cave of the Winds,” entered from the Canadian side, and leading by a rough and slippery path towards Goat ~ ‘Island. From below the falls the slope 22 =z S—— i NG = ; P ‘ | | i *. continues, descending in the next seven \\s Ny iif miles a hundred and four feet, and the rocky chasm which makes the bed of the river contracts to less than a thousand feet. On each side the rocky walls rise almost perpendicularly from the water’s edge, rude stairways leading down at different points from the top of the cliff to the water below. Across this tumultuous water, a little ferry-boat takes its course, carrying one almost to the foot of the falls. Two miles below the cataract, the great Suspension Bridge spans the chasm, a length of three oes hundred and fifty feet, the rail- Prospect Point, Niagara. way track above, and a carriage-road and footpath twenty-eight feet below. widens near the bottom, the strata being SCENES IN MANY LANDS. 55) American Fall. A mile below the bridge the river bends to the Canadian side, and the rocky it into a width of scarcely more than two hundred feet. om this, the stream finds a very walls crowd Here are the Whirlpool Rapids, represented on page 555; emerging fr 552 VOYAGES AND TRAVELS. deep channel, and its enormous bulk of water flows platidly and slowly, constantly _ excavating deeper and deeper in the soft strata which forms its bed. A peculiar feature of Niagara Falls is the constant change that is taking place in its rocky walls, especially in the barrier over which the great cataract makes its leap. In 1818, great fragments were broken off on the America side, and in 1828, on the Canadian, shaking the country with the mighty shock as of an earthquake.