The Percy Anecdotes: |
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'Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education; in the elder, a part of experience.' - BACON.
THE first efforts of European inquiry were all directed towards the East. All Christians bowed in spirit, as well as body, towards that sacred quarter of the globe, which dwelt in their deepest and holiest affection; which offered, too, to the mercenary the brightest prospects of pecuniary advantage, so that its riches dazzled the eyes of the worldly-minded, at the same time that its connexion with the records of revealed truth enshrined it in the heart of the devotee.
In the meantime, however, Europe continued for a long period lamentably deficient in acquaintance with its own immediate geography. The chronicles of all parts are full of the most egregious and palpable blunders with regard to countries even immediately adjacent to those of the authors; and this to such an extent as to render them often completely unintelligible. We are even told of the worthy monks of Tournay seeking two years in vain for the Abbey of Ferrieres during the eleventh century; and with such a fact before us, we shall not be inclined to esteem very highly the famous maps of Charlemagne, engraved upon silver platters, which probably, if they had survived, like that of Turin, published by Passini, would be equally decisive, not of the knowledge, but of the utter ignorance of the age. It was not certainly until the commercial spirit of the free towns of Germany, the Italian republics, England, and Holland had imperceptibly arisen, and diffused itself very widely, that this ignorance was to any considerable degree removed.
The geography and statistics of Asia had made much earlier progress than those of Europe. The Arabians had been most accurate and detailed in their accounts of their own immediate domain; the Crusaders had repeatedly traversed the same quarter; the fleets of Venice, Genoa, and Florence had profited by the opportunity to engage in extensive commerce; and though prevented by the ruling destiny of Egypt from pursuing the trade to India by the Red Sea, they opened an avenue to its treasures by the Black Sea, and organised a traffic by means of caravans, to China and Hindostan, which continued more than two hundred years. In addition to the Crusades, the ravages of the Mogul Tartars, which put not only Asia, but Poland, Silesia, and Hungary, in consternation, led to an acquaintance with the remotest parts of the East. The Roman Pontiffs sought by missionaries to avert the storm, and these apostles traced the course, while the Christian merchant followed beyond the Black Sea and the Caspian. The boundaries of knowledge were extended, and the missionary long served as a channel of communication between the two continents. Even in the fourteenth century we find an European bishop at Pekin. St. Louis sought to enter into a political connexion with the Mogul Chain in 1253, and Henry, III. of Castile, with Timur, in 1394.
It is not usual to acknowledge much literary obligation to the people of Israel; yet under the liberal toleration and patronage of the Moorish dynasties of Bagdad and Spain, they attained to considerable eminence. Two of the earliest writers of travels were Jews. Moses Petachia travelled about the year 1187 through Poland to Tartary, and thence through various Asiatic countries to Jerusalem; and about the same period appeared the work ascribed to Benjamin Ben Iona, commonly called Benjamin of Tudela, who is represented to have been a native of Navarre, and a student of Cordova. Laus non ultimatum sabbatariorum.' His journeys are stated to have extended by the way of Constantinople, through Antioch, to Jerusalem; thence to Tadmor, and the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris. Bagdad was then under the government of the Abassides, to whose toleration of the Jews, our traveller bears ample testimony. His course then lay through Persia, and he returned by the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea to Egypt and Sicily. The Monks.
The monks took very early a lead in foreign adventure. Bonaventura Broccardus, a West-indian monk, travelled in 1222 to Palestine; and upon his return wrote his 'Descriptio Terrae Sanctae,' which was long in high repute. Ascelin, a Dominican, wrote an account of his mission in 1254, from Innocent IV. to the Cham of Tartary, of which little remains. Carpini, an Italian, and Rubruquis (Ruisbrock), a Brabanter, went on similar expeditions in the same country; and have left, upon the whole, as accurate and faithful accounts of their observations, as could be expected from the age. Hayton, an Armenian prince, assuming the habit of a monk, arrived in France. in the year 1307, and there dictated his 'Historia Orientalis,' which is to be found in Purchas, and contains a very creditable and useful description of the principal Asiatic states, and a considerable portion of the history of the Mogul sovereigns.
'John Mandevile, Knight,' says Bale, as translated by Hakluyt, 'born in the town of St. Albans, was so given to study from his childhood, that he seemed to plant a good part of his felicity in the same, for he supposed that the honour of his birth would nothing avail him, except he would render the same more honourable by his knowledge in letters.' His favourite pursuit had been the study of medicine; but in the year 1322 he left his native land, perhaps disgusted with the civil dissensions in which it was involved during the disastrous year which closed the reign of Edward the Second, and set out with the intention of travelling to the Holy Land.
Proceeding, in the first instance, to Egypt, he engaged in the service of Melek Madaron, sultan of that country, and fought in his wars against that restless but changeless people, the Bedouin Arabs. The monarch became really attached to him, and would have detained him at his court by most advantageous proposals, which his steady attachment to his religion determined him to reject. 'And he wolde (says he) have maryed me fulle highely to a gret princess' daughter, if that I would have forsaken my law and my beleve. But, I thank God, I had not wille to do it for nothing that he behighten me.'
His curiosity being excited by the accounts of the Eastern countries, which reached him through the commercial frequenters of the Mediterranean ports, he determined to pursue his journey, from the Holy Land, the next scene of his travels, to the Cham of Tartary, whom he served, with four other knights, in his wars against the King of Mance, for the sake of the opportunities which that employment afforded them of obtaining a more intimate acquaintance with the government and internal economy of that part of Asia. Thus, he remarks, from observation upon an astrolabe which he met with in his travels, he had seen that half of the firmament which is situated between the two pole stars, or 180 degrees; and of the other half, had 'seen 62 degrees upon that part (the north), and 33 upon that other part (the south); that ben 95 degrees out of the other 180.' He pursued his journey no further; averring, however, that 'gif he had companye and schipping for to go more beyonde, he trowed wel in certeyn that he scholde have seen all the roundness of the firmament alle aboute,' and declaring his belief in the spherical form of the earth.
Upon his return in 1356, after an absence of thirty-four years, he compiled his celebrated book of travels, which is not only founded on his own observations, but 'aftre informacion of men that knewen ef things that he had not seen;' and submitted it to the judgment of the Pope, who 'remytted' it 'to be examyned and preyed by the avys of his conseille; be the whiche,' he adds, 'my boke was preyed for twewe, in so moche, that thei schewed me a boke that my boke was examyned by [probably the journals of some of the missionaries] that comprehended fulle moche more be an hundred parte, be the which the Mappa Mundi was made after.'
He appears to have died and been buried in a convent at Liege in 1371; and Ortellius, in his 'Itinerarium Belgicae,' gives the epitaph on his tomb there, and adds, 'that he saw the accoutrements of his journey, which were preserved as relics. St. Albans, however, also claims the honour of his burial-place; and Weever gives the following verses, which, he says, were written upon a pillar in the abbey of that town; admitting, at the same time, that he had seen the tomb at Liege, as described by Ortellius:-
'All ye that pass by, on this pillar cast eye, This epitaph read if you can; 'Twill tell you a tombe once stood in this roome, Of a brave spirited man. 'John Mandevile by name, a knight of great fame, Born in this honoured towne Before him was none that ever was knowne For travaile of so high renowne. 'As the knights in the Temple, crosse-legged in marble, In armour, with sword and with shield, So was this knight grac't which time hath defac't, That nothing but ruines doth yeeld. 'His travailles being done, he shines like the sun, In heavenly Canaari: To which blessed place, the Lord of his grace Brings us all, man after man.'
Mandevile has been much ridiculed for the wonders which his book contains; and not without reason. His design seems to have been to commit to writing whatever he had read, or heard, or known, concerning the places which he saw or has mentioned.
Agreeably to this plan, he has described monsters from Pliny; copied miracles from legends; and repeated, without quoting, stories from authors who are now justly ranked among writers of romance. What he himself saw, however, he generally describes accurately and judiciously; his authority is then weighty, and his testimony true. Many instances might be produced of striking coincidences between Mandevile and the accounts of other writers of the age; and these confirm his assertion, that he consulted their works in the composition of his own book. Marco Polo had gone over much of the same country, nearly half a century before. His narrative of what he saw of manners and customs, as well as of his personal adventures, is simple, and bears the stamp of truth. Mandevile's account of the old man who made a 'paradyse' on a mountain, in which, by all sorts of enticements, he sought to seduce strangers, into serving his purposes of assassination; of the tomb of St. Thomas; of the general customs of the Tartars, and the court of Cham; remarkably agree with the account of Marco Polo. The fabulous parts of each also often concur. Marco Polo tells us of the men with tails; of Gog and Magog; of the tree of life, whose leaves are green above, and white beneath; and of the islands beyond Madagascar, where the wonderful bird is to be found which can carry an elephant through the air. Mandevile seems also to have been acquainted with Hayton, for his account of the origin of the Tartar monarchy perfectly agrees with that Authors; so also does his description of the Egyptian dynasty of Sultans; of the dethroning of Mango Cham; of the Calif of 'Baldak,' (Bagdad) and his death by starvation, in the midst of a sumptuous feast of 'precyous stones, ryche perles, and treasure;' and of the province of Georgia, called Hanyson, three days' journey round which 'is alle covered with darkness, and withouten any brightness or light,' though 'men witen well that men dwellen therein, but they know not what men.'
Much, however, rested upon the simple and unsupported authority of Mandevile, which later discoveries and inquiries have abundantly confirmed, although for a long time they might have ranked with Marco Polo's account of the stones used for fuel. He notices the cultivation of pepper; the burning of widows upon the funeral piles of their husbands; the trees which bear wool of which clothing is made; the carrier pigeons; the gymnosophists; the Chinese predilection for small feet; the variety of diamonds; the artificial egg-hatching in Egypt; the balsam trade; the south pole stars, and other astronomical appearances, from which he argues for the spherical form of the earth; the crocodile; the hippopotamus; the giraffe, the rattlesnake, and many other singular productions of nature, not before known by the inhabitants of Europe.
It is remarkable that nowhere in the course of his long journey, does he complain of any ill-usage on the part of the Mussulman powers, either to himself or their Christian subjects. On the contrary, though everywhere avowing his faith, and refusing all temptations to abandon it, we find him received with that honour and attention which it would certainly have been very hazardous for any paynim~ adventurer to look for in Europe. He particularly notices the many Christian sects, who, for all that appears, dwelt peaceable under Saracen dominion, and were certainly indulged in greater latitude of opinion, than was likely to have been allowed them in any country, even of their Christian brethren of the West. He is himself (though glorying on all occasions in his own belief) candid to others, and in no respect partaking of the exclusive spirit of a much later age.
Lord Burlington being upon his travels in Italy, was shown by a nobleman to whom he had recommendations, a church which he greatly admired for the elegance of its structure, and requested that he might be permitted to view it again the next day, in order to draw a sketch of it. The nobleman replied, that he had no occasion to put himself to that trouble, as the model from which it was taken was in London. Surprised at this information, his lordship desired to know the name of the church and was told that it was St. Stephen's, Walbrook, near the Royal Exchange. It is further added, that his lordship had no sooner arrived in London, than he went to take a view of that beautiful monument of architecture, which is esteemed Sir Christopher Wren's masterpiece, before he saw any of his friends, or returned to his own house.
Another instance of the necessity of knowing your own country first, occurred to a young man of good natural talents, who, in the course of his travels abroad, fell in company with some well-informed and well travelled foreigners at Naples. They were conversing about what they had seen in England; and some little difference of opinion arising about the architecture of Windsor Castle, they very naturally referred themselves for decision to the young Englishman. With much confusion and hesitation, he was compelled to confess that he had never seen the building in question. The company, with true politeness, only testified their surprise with a smile; but the reflection instantly struck the gentleman, that there may be something worth seeing at home, before persons set out on foreign travels.
Sir Robert Cary, afterwards Earl of Monmouth, relates, that when he carried the account of Queen Elizabeth's death to King James in Scotland, he rode from London to Edinburgh, a distance of four hundred miles, in about sixty hours, notwithstanding his stops at Doncaster and Witherington, for some hours, and a bad fall which he had at Norham. But even this instance of wonderful celerity, is outdone by a worthy of whom we read in Stow, who performed one hundred and forty-four miles by land, and two voyages by sea, of about twenty-two miles each, in seventeen hours: for so wonderful a story, however, we must quote the honest chronicler in his own words.
'Saturday, the 17th day of July, 1619,' says Stow, 'Bernard Calvert, of Andover, about three o'clock in the morning, took a horse at St. George's Church in Southwark, and came to Dover about seven the same morning; where a barge with eight oars, formerly sent from London thither, attended his sudden coming; he instantly took barge, and went to Calais, and in the same barge returned back to Dover about three o'clock of the same day: where, as well there as in divers other places, he had laid sundry swift horses, besides guides. He rode back from Dover to St. George's Church, Southwark, the same evening, a little after eight o'clock, fresh and lusty.'
The eccentric Thomas Coryate, who appears to have originally held the office of Fool, or Prince's Jester, in the establishment of Henry Prince of Wales, made in 1608 a tour through France, Italy, Germany, &c., which lasted five months. During this period, he travelled 1975 miles, more than the half upon one pair of shoes, which were only once mended; and upon his return, were suspended in the church of Odcombe. He published his travels under the title of 'Crudities hastily gobbled up, in Five Months' Travels in France, Savoy, Italy, Rhetia, Helvetia, some parts of High Germany, and the Netherlands, in 1611.' This work was ushered into the world by an Odcombian banquet, consisting of near sixty copies of verses, composed by the best poets of that time, which, if they did not make Coryate pass with the world for a man of great parts and learning, contributed not a little to the sale of the book. Among these poets were Ben Jonson, Sir John Harrington, Inigo Jones, Chapman, Donne, Drayton, and others. In the same year he published 'Coryate's Crambe, or his Colwort twice sodden, and now served in with other Macaronic dishes, as the second course of his Crudities.'
In 1612, after taking leave of his countrymen, by an oration spoken at the Cross of Odcombe, he left England, with the intention not to return until he had spent ten years in travelling. After visiting successively Greece, Egypt, Syria, Chaldea, and Persia, he arrived in the dominion of the Great Mogul, before whom he delivered an oration in the Persian language. In the Hindoo language also he had so great a command, that we are gravely told he silenced a laundry-woman belonging to the English ambassador of that country, who used to scold all the day long. After he had visited several places in that part of the world, he went to Surat, in the East Indies, where he died in 1617.
Coryate appears to have been an object of constant ridicule to the wits of his time; though, as has been well remarked, so great a desire to become acquainted with mankind, can scarcely be reckoned a symptom of folly. On one occasion, an agent of the Honourable East India Company at Mandoa told him, that he had been in England since he saw him, and that King James had enquired about him. 'Ah! and what said his majesty?' 'He asked if that fool was living still?' Poor Coryate was equally hurt at another time, when, upon his departure from Mandoa, Sir Thomas Roe, the English resident there, gave him a letter, and in that a bill to receive ten pounds at Aleppo. The letter was directed to Mr. Chapman, consul there; and the passage which concerned Coryate, was this. 'Mr. Chapman, when you shall hand these letters, I desire you to receive the bearer of them, Mr. Thomas Coryate, with courtesy, for you shall find him a very honest poor wretch,' &c. This coarse expression troubled Coryate extremely, and it was altered to his mind. He was very jealous of his reputation abroad, for he gave out that there were great hopes in England of the account he should give of his travels after his return home. What became of the notes and observations he made in his long peregrinations, is unknown. A few letters sent to his friends in England, were all that ever came to the light.
The travels and sufferings of Lithgow, in Europe, Asia, and Africa, seem to raise him almost to the rank of a martyr and hero. Often was he most cruelly treated, but by none more than by the Spaniards at Malaga, who, under the pretext of his being a heretic and spy, immured him for a long time in a dungeon, robbed him of all his property, and subjected him to the worst tortures of the inquisition. After his return to England, he was carried to Theobalds upon a feather-bed, that King James might be an eye-witness of his 'martyred anatomy,' as he calls his wretched body, mangled and reduced to a skeleton. The whole court crowded to see him. His majesty ordered him to be taken the tenderest care of; and he was twice taken to Bath at his expense. By the king's command, he applied to Gondemar, the Spanish ambassador, for the recovery of money and other valuable articles which the governor of Malaga had taken from him, and for a thousand pounds for his support; but although promised a full reparation for the damages he had sustained, that minister never performed his promise. When he was upon the point of again leaving England, Lithgow upbraided him with the breach of his word, in the presence-chamber, before several gentlemen of the court. From words, they even proceeded to blows on the spot, and the ambassador was rather roughly handled. The unfortunate Lithgow, although generally commended for his spirited behaviour, was sent to the Marshalsea, where he continued a prisoner nine months.
At the end of the octavo edition of his Travels, he informs us, that 'in his three voyages, his painful feet have traced over, besides passages of seas and rivers, thirty-six thousand and odd miles, which draweth near to twice the circumference of the whole earth!' Here the marvellous seems to rise to the incredible; and to place him, in point of veracity, on a level with the fabulists of an older period.
After having remained above two years in Abyssinia, Mr. Bruce became desirous of leaving it; but this he found a still more difficult matter than getting into it, for he had become of importance to the king, who therefore seemed resolved not to part with him. One day when the king was in more than ordinary good humour, he told Mr. Bruce that he would grant him anything that he should ask. Mr. Bruce seized this favourable opportunity, and told the king, that as he did not keep his health in that climate, and was anxious to return to his native country he hoped he should obtain permission to depart. The king seemed astonished at the request, and was at first in a furious rage; but recollecting himself, he, for his oath's sake, like Herod of old, determined to give up his own inclination. Mr. Bruce had by this time collected a good number of drawings, and a number of Abyssinian MSS. Having packed up his books and papers, and provided camels and servants to attend him on his journey, he departed, from the capital of Abyssinia, giving out that he was to travel back to Egypt the way he came; but being justly apprehensive that the king would change his mind after he was gone, and, indeed, having received intelligence that there was a design to seize him, and bring him back, he took quite a different course. Instead of travelling a great way in Abyssinia, he struck off directly for the deserts of Nubia; after getting to which, it was easy to escape from the King of Abyssinia's dominions. He had a dreadful journey during thirty days, through sandy deserts, &c. scorched with the intense heat of a glowing sun, and swept by winds of so pestiferous a quality, as to kill both man and beast, if their lungs are assailed by the noxious blast.
In the course of his journey, Mr. Bruce lost all his attendants, and all his camels, except one man. During the whole peregrination, they did not meet with any wandering tribe. Mr. Bruce and his remaining attendant, being unable to carry the baggage, and reduced to an almost desperate state, he left his curiosities in the desert, and with his faithful attendant walked on, they knew not whither, only keeping towards the west, and hoping that they should fall in with some inhabited place.
His shoes very soon went to pieces, and he was then obliged to struggle along upon his naked feet, through burning sands and over rocky places, until his feet were prodigiously swelled, blistered, and lacerated. At the termination of ten days they reached the city of Siana, in the dominion of the Grand Signior. There the Aga, or the officer of the Janisaries, treated them with a good deal of humanity, although he often reproached Bruce very roughly, on account of his being an infidel. Bruce begged that he might have camels and attendants to go with him into the desert, that he might recover his books and papers. 'Of what value are any books and papers that you can have, you infidel?' cried the Aga. Bruce then told him that he had several receipts for curing diseases among his papers, which it was a pity should be lost. The Aga was interested by this, and allowed him camels and attendants. With these he set off; and as fortunately no wanderers had been at the place, he found his baggage just where he left it. He went and came in the space of four days upon a camel, that journey which it had cost him eight days to come upon foot, when worn out with distress and fatigue.
In most of the inland towns and villages of Barbary and the Levant, particularly the former, there is a house set apart for the reception of travellers, with a proper officer, called maharak, to attend them, where they are lodged and entertained one night at the expense of the community; yet even here they sometimes meet with difficulties and disappointments, as when the houses are already occupied, or the maharak is either not to be found, or, as is not unfrequently the case, is surly and disobliging. Shaw, who travelled in these countries in the beginning of the last century, gives a particular account of the difficulties to be surmounted. Frequently he, with his companions, had nothing to protect them from the inclemency of the heat of the day, or the cold of the night, unless they accidentally fell in with a cave, or a grove of trees, or the shelf of a rock, or with some ancient arches that had belonged to so many cisterns. In travelling from Suez to Mount Sinai, he says, 'I was suddenly overtaken and stript by three strolling Arabs; and had not the divine Providence interposed in raising compassion in one, whilst the other two were fighting for my clothes, I must inevitably have fallen a sacrifice to their rapine and cruelty. In the Holy Land, and upon the isthmus between Egypt and the Red Sea, our conductors cannot be too numerous; whole tribes of Arabs, from fifty to five hundred, being sometimes looking out for a booty. This was the case of our caravan, in travelling from Ramah to Jerusalem in 1722, when, exclusive of three or four hundred spahees, four bands of Turkish infantry, with the general at the head of them, were not able, or durst not, protect us from the repeated insults and barbarities of the Arabs. There was scarcely a pilgrim (and we were upwards of six thousand), who did not suffer either by losing a part of his clothes or his money; and when these failed, then the barbarians took their revenge by treating us unmercifully with their pikes and javelins. It would be too tedious to relate the many instances of that day's rapine and cruelty, in which I myself had a principal share, being forcibly taken as an hostage for the payment of their unreasonable demands, where I was barbarously used and insulted all that night, and provided the Aga of Jerusalem, with a great force, had not rescued me the next morning, I should not have seen so speedy an end of my sufferings.
In our journeys between Cairo and Mount Sinai, the heavens were every night our covering; the sand, with a carpet spread over it, our bed; and a change of raiment made up into a bundle was our pillow. In this situation we were every night wet to the skin by the copious dew that dropped upon us, though without the least danger of catching cold. Our camels were made to kneel down in a circle round about us, with their faces looking from us, and their respective loads and saddles placed behind them.
Our stages, or days' journeys, were not always the same; for when any danger was apprehended, we then travelled through as many bye-paths as our conductors were acquainted with, riding in this manner without halting, sometimes twelve, sometimes fifteen hours. Our constant practice was to rise at break of day, set forward with the sun, and travel all the middle of the afternoon, at which time we began to look out for the encampments of the Arabs, who, to prevent such parties as ours from living at free charges upon them, take care to pitch in woods, valleys, or places the least conspicuous. And, indeed, unless we discovered their flocks, the smoke of their tents, or heard the barking of their dogs, it was sometimes with difficulty, if at all, that we found them. Here we were accommodated with the monnah (a meal of provisions); and if in the course of our travelling the next day,
"We chanc'd to find
A new repast, or an untainted spring,
We bless'd our stars, and thought it luxury."
'This is the method of travelling in these countries; and these are its pleasures and amusements. Few, indeed, in comparison with the many toils and fatigues; fewer still with regard to the greater perils and dangers that either continually alarm or actually beset is.'
Indian Hieroglyphical Journals.
'On quitting our encampment,' says Mr Shoolcraft, in his recent 'Narrative of the Expedition to the Sources of the Missouri, and proceeding onwards from St. Louis River to Sandy Lake', 'the Indians left a memorial of our journey inscribed upon bark, for the information of such of their tribe as should happen to fall upon our track. This we find to be a common custom among them. It is done by tracing, either with paint or with their knives, upon birch bark (Betula papyracea), a number of figures and hieroglyphics, which are understood by their nation. This sheet of bark is afterwards inserted in the end of a pole, and drove into the ground, with an inclination towards the course of travelling. In the present instance, the whole party were represented in a manner that was perfectly intelligible, with the aid of our interpreter, each one being characterized by something emblematic of his situation or employment. They distinguish the Indian from the white man, by the particular manner of drawing the figure, the former being without a hat, &C. Other distinctive symbols are employed: thus, Lieutenant Mackay was figured with a sword, to signify that he was an officer; Mr. Doty, with a book, the Indians having understood that he was an attorney; myself with a hammer, in allusion to the mineral hammer I carried in my belt, and so forth; the figure of a tortoise and prairie-hen denoted that these had been killed; three smokes, that our encampment consisted of three fires; eight muskets, that this was the number armed; three bucks upon the pole, leaning N.W., that we were going three days N.W.; the figure of a white man with a tongue near his mouth (like the Azteck hieroglyphics), that he was an Interpreter ' &c. Should an Indian hereafter visit this spot, he would therefore react upon this memorial of bark, that fourteen white men and two Indians encamped at that place, that five of the white men were Chiefs or officers, one an interpreter, and eight common soldiers; that they were going to Sandy Lake (knowing that three days journey N.W. must carry us there); that we had killed a tortoise, a prairie-hen, &c. I had no previous idea of the existence of such a medium of intelligence among the northern Indians. All the travellers of the region are silent on the subject, I had before witnessed the facility with which one of the Lake Indians had drawn a map of certain parts of the southern coast of Lake Superior; but here was an historical record of passing events, as permanent, certainly, as any written record among us, and fully as intelligible to those for whom it was intended.'
A strange little boy was one day brought before the magistrate at the police office, New York, reported on the watch returns as being a lodger. This extraordinary child, ten years of age, was very thinly clad, and but four feet two inches high, of delicate make, and weak eyes. On being asked by the magistrate who he was, and whence he came, he gave the following account:
'My name is De Grass Griffin; I am ten years old; my father is a boatman in Killingworthy Connecticut; my mother left there last summer: she parted from my father; he don't take any care of me. About four weeks ago I started from Killingworth for Philadelphia, to see my mother; had not a cent when I started; walked part of the way, and rode part. My sister, who is a married woman, told me in what part of Philadelphia I would find my mother. When I got there, I found that she was dead; I remained there, going about the town, about a week; I then started to come back. A gentleman in Philadelphia gave me a twenty cent piece, an eleven-penny bit, and a five-penny bit; I have the twenty cent piece yet. I got into this town yesterday morning; had nothing to eat all day yesterday, till the evening, when I got some clams at a little stand near the river. I calculate to start for home this morning, and to get a stage driver to give me a ride.' Magistrate. 'I will send you to the almshouse, over the way, that you may get your breakfast, and be taken care of.' Answer. 'Very well, but I wish to start on.'
It was truly astonishing to behold such a child perform (in the depth of winter) a journey of upwards of two hundred miles, with such a trifle of money, without warm clothing, and the snow on the road nearly as high as himself. His deportment was mannerly; his answers prompt, clear, and brief; he appeared to feel no want, asked for nothing, nor made any complaint; but had perfect confidence in his own powers and ability to get to the end of his journey on his twenty cent fund. The decision and fortitude of this little destitute boy, might furnish a profitable example to many an irresolute and desponding individual of riper years.
A Mr. Rogers and a Mr. Carry both natives of Kentucky, were on their return from the Council Bluffs, on the margin of the Missouri, when the cold weather set in, accompanied with a deep fall of snow. Mr. R. being in a weak state of health, it was thought fittest to attempt to descend the stream, instead of traversing the forests. When one hundred and fifty miles from any settlement, the ice on the river prevented their descent; and no other alternative was left, than to land, and leave Mr. R. in the woods, with some necessaries, till the return of his friend, who went in quest of relief. Carry with difficulty, reached the settlement, and immediately returned to his helpless friend. After a toilsome search, and an absence of twenty one days, Carr at length discovered the apparently lifeless body of Rogers. On approaching it, the narrative states, that this faithful fellow traveller first observed a rise of snow, and many tracks of a wolf leading to it. With a palpitating heart he went up to it, and saw a piece of buffalo robe sticking out; stooping down, he discovered the glistening eyes of his friend! He was still alive; but his feet much frozen. His fire had gone out, and in attempting to make more, his powder blew up. He was afraid his friend had been frozen, and despairing of life, had rolled himself up in his buffalo robe and laid down. He was eight days without any kind of food, and was so exhausted, that when the wolf stared him in the face, he was not able to make any exertion or noise to drive him away.
Rogers was then conveyed to Hempstead, where he not only recovered his general health. but, strange to tell, the complete use of his limbs.
In Alligator county, North Carolina, there is a swamp about five miles across, called the Little Dismal. Into the interior of this desert. Mr. Janson penetrated on horseback, with a negro for his guide, who traced out the road by the notches cut on the trees. 'I; says Mr. Janson' 'carried my gun in my hand, loaded with slugs, and more ammunition slung across my shoulders. About midway, and about two hundred yards before me, I saw a large quadruped nimbly climb a tree. The negro, looking in a contrary direction, did not perceive the motion, and eager to fire, I did not inform him. We went a foot's pace, and when within gun-shot, I discovered the beast through the foliage of the wood, and immediately fired. The shot took effect, and my astonishment was great to see a monster, of the species of the tiger, suspended by his fore feet from the branch of a tree, growling in tones of dreadful discord. The negro was greatly terrified; and my horse, unused to the report of a gun fired from his back, plunged, and was entangled in mire. Losing the reins, I was precipitated into the morass, while the negro vociferated, 'Massa, massa, we are lost!' Recovering, I beheld the ferocious brute on the ground, feebly advancing towards us. By an involuntary act, I presented my empty gun; at sight of which, conscious, no doubt, that the same motion had inflicted the smart he felt, the creature made a stand, gave a hideous roar, and turned into the thickest part of the swamp; while, in haste and great agitation, I reloaded my piece. The poor slave, whose life to him was as dear as mine could be to me, held up his hands, and thanked the god he worshipped, for his deliverance. I was unconscious of the danger I had courted, till he told me that the beast I had encountered was a panther, larger than any he had ever seen despoiling his master's flocks and herds; and that, when pursued by man, these animals rally with great ferocity. Had I been apprised of this , I should have sought my safety in flight, rather than have begun an attack; but I conjectured the creature to be of no larger dimensions than a wild cat, when I fired.'
Dr. Magennis, who was born in the North of Ireland, having occasion, when a very young man, to visit Dublin, he put up, on his way, at an inn in Drogheda. The mayor of the place had enclosed a piece of common, contiguous to the town, for his own use; and in order that he might himself enjoy the full benefit of it, he gave public notice, that if any cattle should be found trespassing on it, they would be immediately impounded.
The doctor happened that evening to fall in company with some boon companions, that winged the glass with song and joke, till Morpheus weighed down his eyelids with 'soft oppression.' When our young traveller was ready the next morning to resume his journey, he called for his horse; the ostler, after a short pause or two, said, 'May be your honour's horse has not read the mayor's advertisement, and has inadvertently, no doubt, stepped into the favourite enclosure, which, sure enough, is the most verdant spot in the neighbourhood.' Such, indeed, was the fact; the horse had been found trespassing, and was committed.
Magennis immediately waited on the Praetor, who heard all that he had to say in favour of the prisoner; on which he collected all his twelvemonth's pride, and in a few words told him, that the culprit should not be enlarged, unless he paid down half a guinea; which was more, at the time, than our youthful Esculapius could conveniently spare. 'Well, then,' said the suppliant, 'if so, it must be so; but I shall have a few verses into the bargain.' On which he repeated the following lines:
'Was ever horse so well befitted?
His master drunk, himself committed!
But courage, horse, do not despair,
You'll be a horse, when he's no may'r.'
Such was the power of verse, even on a city magistrate, that he immediately ordered his Rosinante to be delivered up to him, free of all expense.
A writer of a modern book of travels, relating the particulars of his being cast away, thus concludes: 'After having walked eleven hours without having traced the print of a human foot, to my great comfort and delight, I saw a man hanging upon a gibbet; my pleasure at the cheering prospect was inexpressible, for it convinced me that I was in a civilized country.'
In the principal cities of Italy, there are persons called Ciceroni, who, as soon as a foreigner arrives, offer themselves to conduct him to see whatever is most curious, and explain it to him. These, on account of their long speeches on the curiosities, &c. of the city, have the name of the great Latin orator given to them in jest.
The greater part of these Ciceroni are poor ecclesiastics, who, often to conceal their ignorance, give imaginary answers, as they are never at a loss for something to say. Of late years, the office of the Ciceroni has been undertaken by well-informed artists, who, in accompanying travellers, direct their attention to the most important objects, and, by their intelligent remarks, not only tend to enlighten the mind, but also to form the taste, especially in matters of the fine arts.
The inns of Poland do not afford good accommodation to the traveller. The stable is the most considerable, and very often the best part of the house. It is literally true, that frequently after proceeding a step or two within the threshold, you are obliged to turn back, to collect fresh air and resolution before you can advance. The interior is filthy and wretched beyond description; the floor is of earth, and usually covered with filth; the inhabitants are squalid and in rags; and the house is frequently half full of their wretched peasants, men and women who are getting intoxicated upon schnaaps, a sort of whisky. Even at the first hotels in Warsaw, and in other large towns, the traveller is frequently shown into a room, entirely without furniture, except perhaps a small couch in one of the corners, and on which he is to spread his own bedding. Sometimes not even a couch is found: in which case the bedding is spread on the floor. An ordinary chair and table are also brought him; and this is at once his eating and his sleeping room, and that in which he receives visitors. Even noblemen often sleep, at these places, in the same rooms which they occupy during the day.
Dr. Claudius Buchanan, who afterwards became Vice-Provost of the college of Fort William, in Bengal, when a young man, formed the resolution of undertaking a journey through Europe on foot. This romantic project he thus describes.
'I had' said he, 'the example of Dr. Goldsmith before me, who travelled through Europe on foot, and supported himself by playing on his flute. I could play a little on the violin; and on this I relied for occasional support during my long and various travels. In August, 1787, having put on plain clothes becoming my apparent situation, I left Edinburgh on foot, with the intention of travelling to London, and thence to the Continent: that very violin which I now have, and the case which contains it, I had under my arm, and thus I travelled onward. After I had proceeded some days on my journey, and had arrived at a part of the country where I thought I could not be known, I called at gentlemen's houses, and farm-houses, where I was in general kindly lodged. They were very well pleased with my playing reels to them (for I played them better than I can now); and I sometimes received five shillings, sometimes half-a- crown, and sometimes nothing but my dinner. Wherever I went, people seemed to be struck a little by my appearance, particularly if they entered into conversation with me. They were often very inquisitive, and I was sometimes at a loss what to say. I professed to be a musician, travelling through the country for a subsistence; but this appeared very strange to some, and they wished to know where I obtained my learning; for sometimes pride, and sometimes accident, would call forth expressions in the course of conversation, which excited their surprise. I was often invited to stay some time at a particular place; but this I was afraid of, lest I might be discovered. It was near a month, I believe, before I arrived on the borders of England, and in that time many singular occurrences befel me. I once or twice met persons whom I had known, and narrowly escaped discovery. Sometimes I had nothing to eat, and had nowhere to rest at night; but, notwithstanding, I kept steady to my purpose, and pursued my journey. Before, however, I reached the borders of England, I would gladly have returned; but I could not - the die was cast: my pride would have impelled me to suffer death, I think, rather than to have exposed my folly, and I pressed forward. When I arrived at Newcastle, I felt tired at my long journey, and found it was hard indeed to live on the benevolence of others. I, therefore, resolved to proceed to London by water; for I did not want to travel in my own country, but on the Continent; I accordingly embarked in a collier at North Shields, and sailed for London. On the third night of the voyage, we were in danger of being cast away during a gale of wind; and then, for the first time, I began to reflect seriously on my situation.'
During the last war, the two French mathematicians, Biot and Arago, travelled, with the permission of England and Spain, to make experiments for the purpose of measuring an arc of the meridian. Biot happily returned to France without any difficulty; but Arago, before he got home, encountered some singular adventures.
While concluding his labours on the mountain De Galazzo, in Majorca, there suddenly arose a disturbance among the people of the island. They fancied that Arago's instruments, particularly the fire signals which he gave to other observers employed at Ivica, were intended to invite their enemy, the French, to the island, and to show them the way. Arago suddenly heard the dreadful cry all round, 'Treason! Death!' The assault upon Mount Galazzo instantly commenced; but its cause fortunately perceived the imminent danger. He quickly changed his dress for that of a peasant of the island, and escaped to Palma. Here he found the ship which had brought him to the island, and concealed himself in it. He at the same time succeeded, through some brave men of the crew, in regaining his mathematical instruments which he had been obliged to leave on the mountain. But new terrors awaited him in this disguise. Either through fear or treachery, the Spanish captain of the ship quite unexpectedly refused to protect Arago any farther, though he had always shown himself his friend; he also refused to take him back to France; entreaties, promises, reproaches - nothing would avail. In this great emergency, the chief commander of the island fortunately took the part of Arago; but could not save him at that time, but by confining him as a prisoner in the fortress. While Arago was obliged to remain here several months, his life was sometimes in the greatest danger. The fanatical monks attempted several times to bribe the guards and murder the prisoner. But the Spanish mathematician Rodriguez, his fellow labourer and faithful friend, who never quitted his side, was his deliverer. This worthy man would not rest till he had obtained, by his representations against the injustice of the unaccountable mal-treatment of an innocent person, the liberty of his friend, and at the same time permission for him to go over to Algiers in a small vessel of his own.
In Algiers, Du Bois Tainville, at that time French Consul, kindly received him, and took means to put him on board an Algerine merchantman, that he might return to France. At first, everything went according to his wishes. The ship approached Marseilles, and Arago, with the fairest hopes, already found himself in the harbour. But, at the same moment, a Spanish privateer attacked the ship, took it, and brought it to Rosas, on the Spanish coast. Arago might still have been liberated, as he was entered on the ship's books as a German merchant; but unfortunately, he was recognised to be a Frenchman by one of the sailors, who had previously been in the French service, and was, with his companions, thrown into the most dreadful imprisonment. But when the Dey of Algiers heard of the insult to his flag, he immediately demanded the ship, its cargo, and crew, to be instantly returned, and in case of refusal, he threatened to declare war against the King of Spain. This had the desired effect. The ship and the crew were liberated, and Arago sailed for the second time to Marseilles, without in the least doubting his safe arrival. He already saw the town, the ship once more steered towards the harbour, when suddenly a furious north-west storm arose, and drove it with irresistible violence towards Sardinia. How hard a fate! The Sardinians were at war with the Algerines. A new imprisonment awaited them. The commander, therefore, resolved to seek refuge on the coasts of Africa. Though they were so distant, he succeeded. He ran into the harbour of Bougie, three days' voyage from Algiers. But here another very unfortunate piece of news awaited poor Arago. The former Dey of Algiers, his friend, had been killed in a commotion, and another ruler chosen. For this reason, the party of the new Dey examined the ship with suspicious rigour; and the heavy trunks of Arago, which contained his mathematical instruments, were immediately seized; for what else could they contain but gold? Why else should they have been so carefully secured, if they were not filled with sequins? He was obliged to leave his instruments in the hands of the Algerines. A new misfortune was added to this. How could he make a three days' journey to Algiers by land, among a savage and highly irritated people? Courage and presence if mind, however, saved him. He disguised himself in the Turkish costume, and went under the protection of a greatly esteemed priest of those parts, who conducted him, with some others, through inhospitable mountains and dreary deserts; and after overcoming many threatening dangers, he arrived in safety at Algiers. How was Du Bois Tainville astonished to see his countryman again, in a Turkish dress, whom he had long supposed to be dead.
He took up his cause with the Algerines, and used means to have the chests restored, which no longer interested the Algerines of Bougie, as they had found brass instead of gold, and kept the 'Adventurer against his will,' as the opportunities of sailing to France were at that time as rare as dangerous. Thus six months passed. At last, Du Bois was recalled by Bonaparte to France. He began his voyage, accompanied by Arago, for the third time, to France. But they scarcely saw Marseilles, when an English fleet appeared, which ordered them to return to Minorca, as all the French harbours were at that time in a state of blockade. The ships accompanying Du Bois obeyed; the one on board of which Arago was, however, embraced a favourable fresh breeze, and ran into the harbour with all sails spread.
Mr. Sharpe, who travelled in Italy in 1766, gives the following account of the manner of passing the Alps, at that time. 'At Lyons or Geneva,' he says, 'the Voiturins, men who furnish horses for the journey over the Alps, make their demands according to the number of travellers who are on the spot, or who they hear are on the road. If there are but few, they are sometimes very reasonable; if there are many, they rise in their demands, and even confederate not to take less than a certain extortionate sum which they stipulate among themselves. When there are but few travellers going that way, he who takes a passenger, has a very good chance upon his arrival at Turin, to find customers back again, and therefore will agree on moderate terms.
'The voiturins, for the sum stipulated, defray your charges on the road; they pay for your dinner, supper, and lodging, so that the seven days' journey from Geneva or Lyons to Turin, costs little more than what you contract for with them, the extraordinaries being only the small presents made to the servants, and the expense of breakfasting. The voiturins are generally obliging and busy in providing the best eatables the country affords, because they pay the same ordinary whether the innkeepers give you good or bad provisions; besides, they are all ambitious of character, which procures them recommendations from one traveller to another. The voiturin is likewise at the whole expense of carrying you and your equipage over Mount Cenis, except a little gratuity, which every gentleman gives to the poor chairmen, perhaps sixpence to each, and a little drink at the resting place, or halfway house. As the vulturins are obliged to hire a number of mules, in proportion to the quantity of luggage, and weight of the chaise or coach, this consideration, besides the draught for their horses, makes them raise their demands when the equipage is heavy.
'Every person who is carried over Mount Cenis in a chair, is obliged to employ six chairmen; or, if he be lusty, eight: or extremely corpulent, ten; of which, and, indeed, of all disputable matters, the syndics are appointed by his majesty absolute judges. The syndics are magistrates, living the one at Lanneburg, on this side of the mountain, and the other at Novaleze, which is situated at the other foot of the mountain, on the side towards Turin; they are poor men, and not above accepting a small present for drink; but are invested with sufficient power to compel both the muleteers and the chairmen to attend, when any traveller arrives. I had an opportunity, when I went into Italy, of seeing this power exerted; for the chairmen were in the midst of their harvest, gathering in the produce of their own little farms, and would gladly have been excused. The syndic, therefore, rang the alarum-bell; which summons was immediately obeyed, and a sufficient number of them were selected to transport me and my company the next morning.'
Since Mr. Sharpe crossed the Alps, considerable facilities have been afforded to travellers, for which they are solely indebted to Bonaparte.
After passing Lans-le-bourg, the traveller begins to ascend Mount Cenis, and enters upon the road formed by the late emperor. The genius of Napoleon seems to have inspired and produced superhuman efforts. Wherever his hand is seen, or his mind is concerned, we are astonished at the grandeur and the magnitude of his ideas. The Alps, whose terrific images excited the dread of man, have fallen before his power. He has cut through some mountains, overturned others, filled up precipices, turned the course of torrents, formed bridges, and made roads of the most gentle ascent, which avoid all former dangers and inconveniences. Upon these the traveller moves with ease and delight, and hospitality everywhere prevails. Although he has been the enemy of many, every one in passing the Alps must have a grateful feeling towards him, for in these wonderful works, as well as in many others, he has been a friend to the human race.
In ascending Mount Cenis, every traveller is left in admiration at beholding this grand road, winding up the side of the mountain in a serpentine line of a most easy ascent, flanked with stones, and defended by posts and parapets. This great work, this royal road, was completed in five years, and remains an imperishable record of Napoleon's contempt of all impediments. Twenty-eight houses are placed at certain distances, by order of Bonaparte, to succour the distressed in case of need. Fires, beds, and every necessary, are provided. The old route is still seen, and miserable it must have been to those who were obliged to pass by it. Upon the top of Mount Cenis, is a plain six miles long, covered with verdure, and affording pasturage for goats, sheep, and cows. In the centre is a lake, two miles in diameter, which produces excellent trout; the post- house, and an auberge, are situated about the centre, as likewise a barrack; and a little higher an hospice, built by order of the late Emperor of the French. From the highest of these mountains, the plains of Piedmont are seen; and from this spot, it is said, Hannibal showed his soldiers the fine country they were going to conquer.
Dr. Franklin, in the early part of his life, and when following the business of a printer, had occasion to travel from Philadelphia to Boston. In his journey he stopped at one of the inns, the landlord of which possessed all the inquisitive impertinence of his countrymen. Franklin had scarcely sat himself down to supper, when his landlord began to torment him with questions. He well knowing the disposition of these people, and knowing that answering one question, would only pave the way for twenty more, determined to stop the landlord at once by requesting to see his wife, children, and servants; in short, the whole of his household. When they were summoned, Franklin, with an arch solemnity, said, 'My good friends, I sent for you here to give you an account of myself: my name is Benjamin Franklin; I am a printer, of nineteen years of age: reside at Philadelphia, and am now going to Boston. I sent for you all, that if you wish for any further particulars, you may ask, and I will inform you: which done, I hope that you will permit me to eat my supper in peace.'
When the late General Bligh was a captain in a marching regiment, he and his lady were travelling in Yorkshire, and put up at an inn where there happened to be only just as much in the larder as would serve them for dinner, which was immediately ordered. In the meantime, some sporting gentlemen of the country came in, and finding there was nothing in the house, but what was getting ready for another company, asked who they were? The landlord told them he did not directly know, but he believed the gentleman an Irish officer. '0h well, if he's Irish,' said one of the company, 'a Potato will serve him. Here, waiter, take this watch (pulling out an elegant gold watch) carry it upstairs, and ask this gentleman what's o'clock?' Mr. Bligh, as may be well imagined, was not pleased at such an impudent message; but recollecting himself a moment, took the watch from the waiter, and desired him to present his compliments to the company, and he would tell them before he parted. This message, however, produced his dinner to be sent up to him in quiet; after eating which, he clapt a couple of large horse pistols under his arm, and going downstairs. introduced himself into the company, by telling them he was come to let them know what o'clock it was: but first begged to be informed to which of the gentlemen the watch belonged. Here a dead silence ensued. Mr. Bligh then began on his right hand, by asking them severally the question; each of them denied knowing anything of the circumstance. '0, then, gentlemen, (says he) I find I have mistaken the company; the waiter a while ago brought me an impudent message from some people in this house, which I came, as you see, (pointing to his pistols) properly to resent; but I find I have mistaken the room.' Saying this, he wished them a good evening, which they as politely returned. He paid his bill, stepped into his carriage, and drove off with the watch in his pocket, which he kept to his death, and left it by will, with a large fortune, to his brother, the Dean of Elphin.
Shenstone, in one of his poems, says,
'Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been.
Must sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome at an inn.'
Had the poet lived to visit the United States of America in the nineteenth century, he would have retracted his eulogium on inns, or at least have acknowledged that his rule was not without an exception. Mr. Janson, who travelled in the United States in 1806, gives the following description of a traveller's accommodations.
Arrived, says he, 'at your inn, let me suppose, like myself, you had fallen in with a landlord, who at the moment would condescend to take the trouble to procure you refreshment after the family hour; and that if no trifling circumstance called off his attention, he will sit by your side, and enter in the most familiar manner into conversation, which is of course prefaced with a demand of your business, and so forth. He will then start a political question (for here every individual is a politician), force your answer, contradict, deny, and finally be ripe for a quarrel, should you not acquiesce in all his opinions. When the homely meal is served up, he will often place himself opposite to you at the table, at the same time declaring, that "though no doubt he had eaten a hearty dinner, yet he will pick a bit with you." Thus will he drink out of your own glass, and of the liquor for which you must pay, and commit other excesses still more indelicate and disgusting. Perfectly inattentive to your accommodation, and regardless of your appetite, he will dart his fork into the best of the dish, and leave you to take the next cut. If you arrive at the dinner hour, you are seated with "mine hostess" and her dirty children, and even the servants of the inn, with whom you have often to scramble for a plate; for liberty and equality level all ranks upon the road, from the host to the ostler. The children, imitative of their free and polite father, will also seize your liquor, slobber in it, and often snatch a dainty bit from your plate. This is considered as a joke, and, consequently provokes a laugh; no check must be given to these demonstrations of unsophisticated nature: for the smallest rebuke will bring down a severe animadversion from the parent.'
A still more recent traveller, who writes with a strong bias in favour of the United States, says, that 'on arriving at a tavern in this country, you excite no kind of sensation whatever, come how you will. The master of the house bids you good day, and you walk in; breakfast, dinner, and supper, are prepared at stated times, to which you must generally contrive to accommodate. The servant is not yours, but the innkeeper's; and she always assumes with you the manners of an equal. Even at the City Hotel in New York, the best and most fashionable inn in the United States, a traveller neither has it in his power to dine alone, nor to have private apartments, but must take his seat at the ordinary, where upwards of eighty persons dine every day, at the established hours. Travelling parties, consisting of ladies and gentlemen, cannot even obtain separate sitting apartments, but must either remain in the bedchambers, or mingle together in a drawingroom allotted for their reception.'
When Tippahee, the King of New Zealand, was conveyed from the British settlement at Port Jackson, which he had visited, back to his own country, he became dangerously ill; a British sailor, of the name of George Bruce, who had been employed for several years under Lieutenants Robins, Flinders, and others, in exploring the coasts, &c. of Port Jackson, was appointed to attend him, and acquitted himself so much to the king's satisfaction, that he was honoured with his special favour; and on their arrival, the king requested that he should be allowed to remain with him at New Zealand; to which the captain consenting, Bruce was received into the family of Tippahee. He spent the first few months in New Zealand in exploring the country, and acquiring a knowledge of the language, manners, and customs of the people. He found the country healthy and pleasant, full of romantic scenery, agreeably diversified with hills and dales, and covered with wood. The people, though rude and ignorant, were hospitable, frank, and open.
As the king proposed to place the young Englishman at the head of his army, it was a previously necessary step that he should be tattooed, as without having undergone that ceremony, he could not be regarded as a warrior. The case was urgent, and admitted of no alternative. He. therefore, submitted resolutely to this painful ceremony; and his countenance presents a master specimen of the art of tattooing. Being now tattooed in due form, Bruce was recognised as a warrior of the first rank, naturalized as a New Zealander, received into the bosom of the king's family, and honoured with the hand of the Princess Aetockoe, the youngest daughter of Tippahee, a maiden of fifteen or sixteen years of age, whose native beauty had probably been great, but which was so much improved by the fashionable embellishments of art, that all the softer charms of nature, all the sweetness of expression, were lost in the bolder expressions of tattooing.
Bruce now became the chief member of the king's family, and was vested with the government of the island. Six or eight months after his marriage, several English ships touched at New Zealand for supplies, and all of them found the beneficial influence of having a countryman and friend at the head of affairs in that island.
Bruce and his wife were now contented and happy in the full enjoyment of domestic comfort, with no wants that were ungratified, blessed with health and perfect independence. Bruce looked forward with satisfaction to the progress of civilization, which he expected to introduce among the people with whom, by a singular destiny, he seemed doomed to remain during his life. While enjoying these hopes, the ship General Wellesley touched at a point of New Zealand where Bruce and his wife then chanced to be. This was at some distance from the king's place of residence. Captain Dalrymple applied to Mr. Bruce to assist him in procuring a cargo of spars and Benjamin, and requested specimens of the principal articles of produce of the island; all which was cheerfully done. He then proposed to Bruce to accompany him to North Cape, distant about twenty-five or thirty leagues, where it was reported gold dust could be procured, and the captain conceived that Bruce might prove useful to him in search for the gold dust. With great reluctance, and after many entreaties, Bruce consented to accompany Captain Dalrymple, under the most solemn assurances of being safely brought back and landed at the Bay of Islands. He accordingly embarked with his wife on board the General Wellesley, representing, at the h fo ~bl. same time, to Captain Dalrymple, the dangerous consequences of taking the king's daughter from the island; but that fear was quieted by his solemn and repeated assurances that he would, at every hazard, reland them at the Bay of Islands, the place from which they embarked. Being at length all on board, the Wellesley sailed for the North Cape, as to where they soon arrived and landed. Finding that they had been entirely misinformed the gold dust, the Wellesley made sail, in order to return to New Zealand; but the wind becoming foul, and continuing so for forty eight hours, they were driven from the island. On the third day the wind became more favourable; but Captain Dalrymple did not attempt to regain the island, but stood on for India. On reaching the Feegee or Sandalwood Islands, the captain asked Bruce if he chose to go on shore and remain there; but he declined on account of the barbarous and sanguinary disposition of the islanders. Leaving the Feegee islands, they sailed for Malacca; the captain and Bruce went on shore, where the latter, in hopes of seeing the governor or commanding officer, to whom he might state his grievances, remained all night; but next morning found that the ship had sailed, carrying his wife to Penang.
Bruce, after remaining at Malacca some weeks, obtained a passage for Penang; where, upon his arrival, he found that his wife had been bartered away to another officer. On waiting upon the Governor of Penang, he was asked what satisfaction he required for the ill treatment he had experienced? Bruce answered that all he wanted was to have his wife restored, and to get a passage to New Zealand. Through the interference of the governor his wife was restored to him. With her he returned to Malacca, in hope of the promised passage to New South Wales; but this opportunity he missed. He afterwards returned to Penang, and thence to Bengal, where he and his wife were hospitably received; and an opportunity having occurred in the course of a few months of a passage to New South Wales, they found no difficulty in regaining New Zealand.
Mr. Vaughan in his travels through Sicily, having stopped to take some refreshment at an inn in Caltagirone, as he sat down to his chicken the landlady very coolly took a chair within a yard of the table, and on the opposite side sat a sleek- looking priest, such as you see familiar in every house throughout the country, who had taken up that position by way of asking a few questions of the 'Cavaliere Inglese.' 'After many apologies for the liberty he was taking, the latter,' says Mr. Vaughan, 'begged to converse with me on the subject of England, which the people of these parts were very anxious to to hear about, and the opportunity of enquiring so seldom occurred; and by the time I had dined, I observed half a dozen people collected round the door, with their eyes and mouths open, to hear the examination. "And pray, signor, is it true what we are told, that you have no olives in England?" "Yes, perfectly true." "Cospetto! how so?" "Cospettone!" said the landlady. "Our climate is not propitious to the growth of the olive." "But then, signor, for oranges?" "We have no oranges neither." "Poveretto!" said the landlady, with a tone of compunction, which is a sort of fondling diminutive of "Povero," "poor creature;" as you would say to your child. "Poor little manikin!" "But how is that possible, signor?" said the priest; "have you no fruit in but our country?" "We have very fine fruit: our winters are severe, and not genial enough for the orange tree." "That is just what they told me " said the lady, "at Palermo, that England is all snow, and a great many stones." "But then, signor, we have heard what we can scarcely believe, that you have not any wine?" "It is perfectly true; we have vines that bear fruit; but the sun in our climate is not sufficiently strong, which must be broiling, as it is here, to produce any wine."
'"Then, Jesu Maria, how the deuce do you do?" I told them that, notwithstanding, we got on pretty well; that we had some decent sort of mutton, and very tolerable looking beef; that our poultry was thought eatable, and our bread pretty good; that, instead of the wine, we had a thing they call ale, which our people here and there seem to relish exceedingly; and that by the help of these articles, a good constitution, and the blessing of God, our men were as hardy and as loyal and brave, and our women as accomplished and virtuous and handsome, as any other people, I believed, under heaven. "Besides, Mr. Abbate, I beg leave to ask you, what cloth is your coat of?" "Cospetto! it is English" (with an air of importance). "And your hat?" "Why, that's English." "And this lady's gown, and her bonnet and ribbons?" "Why they are English!" "All English. Then you see how it is; we send you, in exchange for what we don't grow, half the comforts and conveniences you enjoy in your island; besides, padrona mia gentile! (my agreeable landlady) we can never regret that we don't grow these articles, since it ensures us an intercourse with a nation we esteem!" "Viva!" said the landlady; and "Bravo!" said the priest; and between bravo and viva, the best friends in the world, I escaped to my lettiga!'
A recent traveller gives the following description of the mode of camping out, when travelling in the less populous parts of the United States of America; and uninviting as it is, he says he prefers it to the American taverns.
'Our rear party,' says Mr. Birkbeck, 'consisting of a lady, a servant boy, and myself, were benighted, in consequence of accidental detentions, at the foot of one of these rugged hills; and without being well provided, were compelled to make our first experiment of camping out.
'Our party having separated, the important articles of tinder and matches were in the baggage of the division which had proceeded: and as the night was rainy and excessively dark, we were, for some time, under anxiety, lest we should have been deprived of the comfort and security of a fire. Fortunately, my powder-flask was in my saddlebags, and we succeeded in supplying the place of tinder, by moistening a piece of paper, and rubbing it with gunpowder. We placed our touch paper on an old cambric handkerchief, as the most readily combustible article in our stores. On this we scattered gunpowder pretty copiously, and our flint and steel soon enabled us to raise a flame, and collecting dry wood, we made a noble fire. There was a mattress for the lady, a bear-skin for myself, and the load of the packhorse as a pallet for the boy. Thus, by means of great-coats and blankets, and our umbrellas spread over our heads, we made our quarters comfortable; and placing ourselves to the leeward of the fire with our feet towards it, we lay more at ease than in the generality of taverns.'
When the trial of the Duchess of Kingston in the House of Peers had terminated in her conviction, she determined on a visit to St. Petersburg. A ship had been built for her, containing every splendid accommodation. The magnificence of this vessel attracted general observation, and the Russian ambassador understanding that it had been prepared for conveying the duchess on a visit to his imperial mistress, declared that the compliment would be graciously received. The duchess's suite was remarkable for the whimsical assemblage which it presented, having a French crew, in order to protect her from the pirates of America, with which the English were then at war; she was obliged to have a French Roman Catholic chaplain, and the Abbe Sechand was accordingly recommended to her. On his arrival she was much disappointed by his shabby appearance, as it happened that he was no better clothed than a common beggar. She ordered him, however to be put into more decent attire.
In addition to this ecclesiastic, the duchess still retained in her service her Protestant chaplain. Two female attendants, a coachman, and a footman, completed her retinue. A fair wind wafted her from Calais to Elsineur in twelve days; where, after refreshing herself for a short time' she proceeded on her route, and arrived safe in the capital of Russia.
The arrival of an English lady at Petersburg upon a visit, was a scene unusual to the Muscovites, and excited a general curiosity in the capital. The empress assigned her a mansion for her residence; her ship was ordered to be taken under the care of the Admiralty; and having suffered considerable damage from a hurricane, it was repaired by an express order from the empress. Such distinguished marks of attention could not fail to gratify her vanity in the highest degree, but her insatiable mind still panted after variety; and a single circumstance sullied, in her opinion, all the splendour of her present situation. The English ambassador, Sir James Harris, afterwards Lord Malmsbury, could only be complaisant to her in private, and would not admit of her assumed title of duchess, as inconsistent with the decision of the House of Peers, upon the trial concerning her marriage. Mortified at this conduct, she began to inquire whether possessions in the country might not procure her that universal respect, which, as an alien, she could not effectually enjoy. In Russia, there is an order of ladies distinguished by insignia, the principal ornament of which is a picture of the empress. The duchess was made to believe, that landed property only was wanting to introduce her as one of this order. She, therefore, purchased an estate near Petersburg, for about twelve thousand pounds, to which she gave the name of Chudleigh, and exerted all her interest to be invested with the order. But the answer to her application, for ever blasted her hopes.
Thus disappointed, the duchess determined on quitting Russia. She returned to France, where she resided some time. She afterwards resolved on making a second visit to Petersburg; and proposing to travel by land, she intimated her intention to Prince Radzivil, an illustrious Pole, who had pretensions to the crown of Poland, and who had been her friend and admirer twenty years before, when on a visit to the Count of Saxony.
The prince, whose affection had not been diminished by time, received the intimation that the duchess would take his dominions in her route, with the utmost pleasure; and the place where he was to meet her was fixed at Berge, a village in a duchy within the territories of the prince, and about forty miles distant from Riga. On the duchess's arrival, she was waited on by an officer in the retinue of the prince, who was commissioned to inform her Grace, that his master proposed to dispense with the ceremonials of rank, and visit her as a friend. The next morning was the time appointed for this visit, and in the interval, it was requested that the duchess would permit herself to be escorted to an hotel, ten miles distant, whither the prince had sent his own cooks, and other attendants, to wait on her Grace. Accordingly next morning the visit took place, and was conducted in the following manner.
Prince Radzivil came with forty carriages, each drawn by six horses. In the different vehicles were his nieces, the ladies of his principality, and other illustrious characters.
Besides these, there were six hundred horses led in a train, a thousand dogs, and several boars. A guard of hussars completed the suite. So extraordinary an assemblage, in a country surrounded by wood, gave an air of romance to the interview, which was still more heightened by the manner in which the prince contrived to amuse his female visitor. He made two feasts, and they were ordered in the following style. The prince had previously caused a village to be erected, consisting of forty houses, all of wood, and fancifully decorated with leaves and branches. The houses were disposed in the form of a circle, in the middle of which were erected three spacious rooms, one for the prince, a second for his suite, and the third for the repast. Entering the village, in the way to the rooms, all the houses were shut, and the inhabitants appeared to have retired to rest. The entertainment began with splendid fireworks on an adjoining piece of water, and two vessels encountered each other in a mock engagement. This was succeeded by the feast, at which everything was served on plate, and the dishes were extremely sumptuous. The duchess, delighted with so superb a reception, entered with great exhilaration of spirits into the festivity of the evening, and amused the company with a French song.
When the feast was ended, Prince Radzivil conducted the duchess to the village, the houses of which were before shut. On a sudden they were converted into forty open shops, brilliantly decorated, and containing the richest commodities of different kinds. From these shops the prince selected a variety of articles, and presented them to the duchess. They consisted of a magnificent topaz, rings, boxes, and trinkets of all descriptions. The company then returned to the rooms, which were thrown into one, and a ball was opened by Prince Radzivil and the Duchess. The dance being concluded, the company quitted the ball-room, and in an instant it was in a blaze. combustible matter having been previously placed for the purpose. The people of the village were seen dancing round the fire. This entertainment must have cost Prince Radzivil at a moderate computation, a very large sum.
The prince's gallantry, however, did not terminate with this scene. At a country seat ten miles from Nicciffuis, his favourite town, he gave the duchess a second feast, followed by a boar hunt, for which purpose the animals had been brought. The hunt was in a wood, at night: A regiment of hussars, with lighted torches in their hands, formed a circle, within which were huntsmen, also with torches. The boar thus surrounded by fire, was frightened; and after the usual sport, he fell a victim to his pursuers. A great number of the Polish nobility attended at this hunt. During fourteen days that the duchess remained with Prince Radzivil, she dined and slept in different houses belonging to the prince. As the retinue moved from place to place, they, on every third or fourth day, met a camp formed of the prince's own guard. On the journey from Nicciffuis, at night, the roads were illumined; guards accompanied as escorts; and on the arrival of the duchess at the different towns belonging to the prince, the magistrates waited on her with congratulations, and the cannon were fired.
But notwithstanding this profusion of compliment, the heart of the duchess remained insensible to the gallantry of the prince.
During her residence in Poland, the duchess had also the honour to be entertained by Count Oginski, a nobleman who was held in the highest esteem by the late King of Prussia. At a concert which he gave the duchess, he performed on six different instruments. His establishment for musical entertainments cost him every year about twentyfive thousand pounds of our money. He had a theatre, in which plays in the French, German, and Polish languages were acted. He purchased horses from the remotest countries. One which he showed to the duchess, was brought to him from Jerusalem.
The duchess continued a few days at this nobleman's house, and Prince Radzivil accompanying her thither, an emulation seemed to prevail, who should show her the greatest attention. But the utmost civilities could make no lasting impression on a mind so destitute of sensibility as was that of the Duchess of Kingston, whose only object in travelling abroad, was to receive that homage which in her own country was denied to her.
The eccentric Dean Swift, in the course of one of those journeys to Holyhead, which it is well known he several times performed on foot, was travelling through Church Stretton, Shropshire, when he put up at the sign of the Crown, and finding the host to be a communicative good- humoured man, enquired if there was any agreeable person in town, with whom he might partake of a dinner (as he had desired him to provide one), and that such a person should have nothing to pay. The landlord immediately replied, that the curate, Mr. Jones, was a very agreeable, companionable man, and would not, he supposed, have any objections to spend a few hours with a gentleman of his appearance. The Dean directed him to wait on Mr. Jones, with his compliments, and to say that a traveller would be glad to be favoured with his company at the Crown, if it was agreeable. When Mr. Jones and the Dean had dined, and the glass began to circulate, the former made an apology for an occasional absence, saying that at three o'clock he was to read prayers and preach at the church. Upon this intimation, the Dean replied, that he also should attend prayers. Service being ended, and the two gentlemen having resumed their station at the Crown, the Dean began to compliment Mr. Jones upon his delivery of a very appropriate sermon; and remarked, that it must have cost him (Mr. Jones) some time and attention to compose such a one.
Mr. Jones observed, that his duty was rather laborious, as he served another parish church at a distance, which, with the Sunday and weekly service at Church Stretton, straitened him much with respect to the time necessary for the composition of sermons; so that when the subjects pressed, he could only devote a few days and nights to that purpose.
'Well,' says the Dean, 'it is well for you to have such a talent; for my part, the very sermon you preached this afternoon, cost me some months in the composing.' On this observation, Mr. Jones began to look very gloomy, and to recognise his companion. 'However,' rejoined the Dean, 'don't you be alarmed; you have so good a talent at delivery, that I hereby declare, you have done more honour to my sermon this day, than I could do myself; and by way of compromising the matter, you must accept of this halfguinea for the justice you have done in the delivery of it.'
Cicero, when he set out upon his travels to Greece and Asia, the usual tour for men of fashion among the Romans, was in the twenty-eighth year of his age. He did not think of quitting his native country, until he had finished his education in it; he then went abroad, that he might, by repairing to those places in which the arts and sciences had arrived at the greatest perfection, give a high polish to all his literary acquisitions.
To Athens, which was at that time particularly distinguished a the seat of the arts and sciences, he first directed his course; there he resided in the house of Antiochus, the chief philosopher of the old academy; and with the assistance of his admirable instructions, renewed those studies for which he had ever felt from his earliest youth, the strongest predilection. At Athens, too, he found his fellow student, T. Pomponius, who, from his uncommon attachment to that city, and from his long residence in it, was surnamed Atticus. By this meeting between them, the memorable friendship which had subsisted from their boyish days, with an unremitting constancy, and unwavering affection, was revived and consolidated. Cicero, however, though he had often friendly debates with Atticus upon philosophical subjects, did not give himself wholly up to them; his rhetorical exercises engaged a proper share of his attention, and he performed them punctually every day with Demetrius, the Syrian, much celebrated for his oratorical knowledge.
From thence, Cicero proceeded to Asia, where he found himself attended by all the most celebrated orators of the country; they accompanied him during the remainder of his voyage, and he regularly performed his exercises with them, wherever he took up his temporary quarters. As Cicero, while he resided at Athens, did not suffer his philosophical pursuits to make him negligent of his rhetorical studies, neither did he at Rhodes permit the latter to render him neglectful of the former. He dedicated part of his time to philosophy, with Posidonius, the most accomplished and respected Stoic of that age; and often names him in terms greatly to his honour, calling him not only his master, but his friend.
Wherever he stopped, his stay was not determined by the mere pleasures which presented themselves; in a place from which he could draw no profit, there was no induced merit for him to remain. Previously and intimately acquainted with the laws of Rome, he was enabled to make comparisons between them and the laws of other cities, and to bring with him, at his return, whatever he thought beneficial to his country, or advantageous to himself. In every town through which he passed, he was hospitably entertained by men eminent for their virtues, knowledge, and learning; by men honoured and rewarded as the principal patriots, orators, and philosophers of the age. Constantly attended by these, he had opportunities, even while travelling from one city to another, to gain new lights from their experience and admonitions. From such a tour, it is not at all surprising that he came back to Rome adorned with every accomplishment which taste and learning could bestow, to make him shine the first figure in the Forum. 'He was changed,' says the ingenious historian of his life, Dr. Middleton, 'as it were into a new man; the vehemence of his voice and action was moderated, the redundancy of his style and fancy corrected, his lungs strengthened, and his whole constitution confirmed.'
At Kherson, the tomb of the philanthropist Howard, is dear to the heart and eye of every English traveller. 'The evening,' says Sir R. Ker Porter in his Travels, 'was drawing to a close, when I approached the hill, in the bosom of which the dust of my revered countryman reposes so far from his native land. No one that has not experienced "the heart of a stranger" in a distant country, can imagine the feelings which sadden a man while standing on such a spot. It is well known, that Howard fell a sacrifice to his humanity; having caught a contagious fever from some wretched prisoners at Kherson, to whose extreme need he was administering his charity and his consolations. Admiral Priestman, a worthy Briton in the Russian service, who was his intimate friend, attended him in his last moments, and erected over his remains the monument which is now a sort of shrine to all travellers, whether from Britain or foreign countries. It is an obelisk of whitish stone, sufficiently high to be conspicuous at several miles' distance. The hill on which it stands, may be about three wersts out of the direct road, and has a little village and piece of water at its base. The whole is six wersts from Kherson, and forms a picturesque as well as interesting object. The evening having closed when I arrived at the tomb, I could not distinguish its inscription, but the name of Howard would be sufficient eulogy. At Kherson, I learnt that the present emperor has adopted the plans which the great philanthropist formerly gave in to the then existing government, for ameliorating the state of the prisoners. Such is the only monument he would have desired; and it will commemorate his name for ever, while that of the founder of the pyramids is forgotten; so much more imperishable is the greatness of goodness, than the greatness of power!
Monsieur de Conange, on a wandering excursion which he was making with a friend through one of the French provinces, found it necessary one night to take refuge from a storm, in an inn which had little else to recommend it, but that the host was well known to Monsieur de Conange. This man had all the inclination in the world to accommodate the travellers to their satisfaction, but unfortunately he possessed not the power. The situation was desolate, and the few chambers the house contained were already occupied by other travellers. There remained unengaged only a single parlour on the ground floor, with a closet adjoining, with which, inconvenient as they were, Monsieur de Conange and his friend were obliged to content themselves. The closet was prepared with a very uninviting bed for the latter, while they supped together in the parlour, where it was decided Monsieur de Conange was to sleep. As they purposed departing very early in the morning, they soon retired to their separate beds, and ere long fell into a profound sleep. Short, however, had been Monsieur de Conange's repose, when he was disturbed by the voice of his fellow traveller, crying out that something was strangling him. Though he heard his friend speak to him, he could not for some time sufficiently rouse himself from his drowsiness, to awaken to a full sense of the words his friend had uttered. That it was in a voice of distress, he now perfectly understood, and he called anxiously to inquire what was the matter; no answer was returned, no sound was heard, all was as still as death. Now Seriously alarmed, Monsieur de Conange threw himself out of bed, and taking up his candle, proceeded to the closet. What was his horror and astonishment, when he beheld his friend lying senseless beneath the strangling grasp of a dead man, loaded with chains!
The cries of distress which this dreadful sight called forth, soon brought the host to his assistance, whose fear and astonishment acquitted him of being in any way an actor in the tragic scene before them. It was, however, a more pressing duty to endeavour at recovering the senseless traveller, than to unravel the mysterious event which had reduced him to that state. The barber of the village was therefore immediately sent for, and in the meantime, they extricated the traveller from the grasp of the man, whose hand had in death fastened on his throat with a force which rendered it difficult to unclench. While performing this, they happily ascertained that the spark of life still faintly glowed in the heart of the traveller, although wholly fled from that of his assaulter. The operation of bleeding, which the barber now arrived to perform, gave that spark new vigour, and he was shortly put to bed out of danger, and left to all that could now be of service to him repose.
Monsieur de Conange then felt himself at liberty to satisfy his curiosity, in developing the cause of this strange adventure, which was quickly effected by his host. This man informed him that the deceased was his groom, who had, within a few days, exhibited such strong proofs of mental derangement as to render it absolutely necessary to use coercive measures to prevent his either doing mischief to himself or others, and that he had, in consequence, been confined and chained in the stables; but that it was evident his fetters had proved too weak to resist the strength of frenzy; and that, in liberating himself, he had passed through a little door, imprudently left unlocked, which led from the saddle-room into the closet in which the traveller slept, and had entered it to die with such frightful effects on his bed.
When, in the course of a few days, Monsieur de Conange's friend was able to converse, he acknowledged that never in his life had he suffered so much, and that he was confident had he not fainted, madness must have been the consequence of a prolonged state of terror.
The forest of Ancennis is celebrated in many old French ballads, as being the haunt of fairies, and the scene of the ancient .archery of the provinces of Bretagne and Anjou. When Mr. Pinkney travelled through it, in company with a family of persons of fashion, 'we were,' he says 'walking merrily on, when the well-known sound of the French horn arrested our steps and attention. Mademoiselle Sillery immediately guessed it to proceed from a company of archers, and in a few moments her conjecture was verified by the appearance of two ladies and a gentleman who issued from one of the narrow paths. The ladies, who were merely running from the gentleman, were very tastily habited in the favourite French dress, after the Dian of David; whilst the blue silk jacket and hunting cap of the gentleman gave him the appearance of a groom about to ride a race. Our appearance necessarily took their attention, and after an exchange of salutes, but in which no names were mentioned on either side, they invited us to accompany them to their party, who were refreshing themselves in an adjoining dell. 'We have had a party at archery,' said one of them, 'and Madame St. Amande has won the silver bugle and bow; the party is now at supper, after which we go to the chateau to dance. Perhaps you will not suffer us to repent having met you, by refusing to accompany us. Mademoiselle Sillery was very eager to accept this invitation, and looked rather blank when Mrs. Younge declined it, as she wished to proceed on her road as quickly as possible. 'You will at least accompany us merely to see the party?' 'By all means,' said Mademoiselle Sillery. 'I must really regret that I cannot,' said Mrs. Younge. 'If it must be so,' resumed the lady who was inviting us, 'let us exchange tokens and we may meet again.' This proposal, so perfectly new to me, was accepted; the fair archers gave our ladies their pearl crescents, which had the appearance of being of considerable value. Madame Younge returned something which I did not see. Mademoiselle Sillery gave a silver Cupid, which had served her for an essence bottle. The gentleman then shaking hands with us, and the ladies embracing each other, we parted mutually satisfied. "Who are these ladies?" demanded I. "You know them as well as we do," replied Mademoiselle Sillery. "And is it thus," said I, "that you receive all strangers indiscriminately?" "Yes," replied she, "all strangers of a certain condition. Where they are evidently of our own rank, we know of no reserve. Indeed, why should we? it is to general advantage to be pleased, and to please each other." "But you embraced them, as if you really felt an affection for them." "And I did feel that affection for them," said she, "as long as I was with them. I would have done them every service in my power, and would even have made sacrifices to serve them." "And yet if you were to see them again, you would perhaps not know them." "Very possibly," replied she, "but I can see no reason why every affection should be necessarily permanent. We never pretend to permanence. We are certainly transient, but not insincere."'
Duchess of Marlborough's Eyewater.
Soon after the battle of Oudenarde, the Duchess of Marlborough made a tour into Flanders, under the pretence of complimenting the duke on his victory, but, in fact, to inform him of the cabals of his enemies, which it was not safe to entrust in writing. Her grace landed at Dunkirk, where she slept the first night. In the morning she proceeded on her journey, but her thoughts being intent on more important concerns, she omitted giving the chambermaid the usual present. The girl, who attributed this neglect to a want of generosity, thought of an expedient to compensate herself, and with this view she purchased a number of phials, and then filling them carefully with some coloured water, corked and scaled them up close. This done, she reported that she had a quantity of the Duchess of Marlborough's eye-water, which her grace on leaving Dunkirk had put into her hands to sell. The stratagem took; the eye-water was in great demand, both by rich and poor, and the cures it performed were so wonderful that the fame of its virtues reached the duchess at the English camp. Her grace immediately recollected her neglect of the girl, and felt mortified at the girl's mode of resenting it, without knowing how to help it. In her return home, however, she slept again at the same inn, and as the girl was putting her to bed at night, 'Child,' says she, 'I hear you have a famous eye-water to sell; I have a mind to be a purchaser.' The girl, quite confounded and ready to sink, faintly said, it was all disposed of. 'What quantity might you have of it?' said the duchess. 'Only a few dozens,.' replied the girl. 'Well,' said the duchess, 'cannot you provide more?' The girl was miserably perplexed, and could not tell what to say, but fell into tears, and dropping upon her knees, confessed her indiscretion, and humbly implored her grace's forgiveness, promising never to offend again in the like manner. 'Nay, but indeed, child,' said her grace, 'you must make up some for me, for I have heard an excellent character of its sovereign virtues.' Being assured her grace was in earnest, the girl replied, 'she should be obeyed.' The girl thus compelled to produce some, brought the bottles sealed up, when the duchess discovered that the girl had actually procured her grace's arms to her new nostrum, a circumstance she had not before dreamt of. 'Well, my dear,' said the duchess, 'I find you're a mistress of your trade; you make no scruple to counterfeit a seal.' 'Madam,' said the girl, 'you dropt the seal in the room, and that put the idea into my head.' 'And what might you gain,' said her grace, 'by your last supply?' 'Fifty livres' replied the girl. 'Very well,' said the duchess: 'please to restore the seal, and there is double that sum for you,' putting five louis d'ors in her hand; adding, with a stern look, and a severe tone of voice, 'Beware of counterfeits.'
The following copy of a handbill, published in 1706, forms an interesting contrast to modern celerity in travelling:-
YORK FOUR DAYS' STAGE COACH.
'All that are desirous to pass from London to York, or from York to London, or any other place on that road, let them repair to the Black Swann, in Holbourne, in London, and to the Black Swann, in Coney Street, in York; at both places they may be received in a stage-coach every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, which performs the whole journey in four days (if God permits), and sets forth at five in the morning, and returns from York to Stamford in two days, and from Stamford by Huntingdon to London in two days more, and the like stages on their return, allowing each passenger fourteen pounds weight, and all above threepence a pound.'
The philanthropist, Howard, finding in travelling, that the coachmen would seldom comply with his wishes, hit upon an expedient to cure them. At the end of a stage, when the driver had been perverse, he desired the landlord to send for some poor industrious widow, or other proper object of charity, and to introduce such person and the driver together. He then paid the latter his fare. and told him that as he had not thought proper to attend to his repeated requests as to the manner of being driven, he should not make him any present; but, to show him that he did not withhold it out of a principle of parsimony, he would give the poor person present double the sum usually given to a postilion. This he did, and dismissed the parties. He had not long practised this mode, he said, before he experienced the good effects of it on all the roads where he was known.
In the year 1772, Mr. Robert Norris, then governor of one of the English forts, made a journey to the Court of Bossa Abadee, King of Dahomy, in Africa. He was accompanied by a linguist, six hammock-men, ten porters, and a captain of the gang. The most fatiguing part of the journey was from Whydah to Appoy. 'Here,' says Mr. Norris, 'the great wood commences, through which the path is so narrow, crooked, and bad, that it is impossible to be carried in a hammock, even at the present, which is the best and driest time of the year. During the rains, it is almost impassable. We entered the wood at three o'clock in the morning, February 3rd, with the advantage of a bright moon and serene sky. The captain of the guard disposed his men, some in front, some in the rear, with loaded muskets, to defend us from the attack of wild beasts, with which this dreary wood abounds. On each side of me, two of the hammock-men carried lanterns, with lighted candles in them, on which the natives have great reliance for terrifying the beasts of prey; the whole party singing and shouting as loud as they could bellow; blowing trumpets, and firing muskets occasionally; which, with the chattering of monkeys alarmed at our approach, the squalling of parrots, roaring of wild beasts, and the crashing and rustling of elephants through the underwood, formed the most horrid, discord that can be conceived.'
After having executed the object of his mission, Mr. Norris set out on his return. At Ardra, an occurrence took place which might have terminated seriously. 'One night,' continues Mr. Norris, 'I had my hammock slung in the white men's apartments adjoining to the Mayhou's house; and the weather being very warm, the hammock-men, porters, &c., chose to spread their mats, and lie in the piazza, and in the little court before it in the open air. When we were all asleep, except the captain of the gang, who, after having taken a nap, was regaling himself with a pipe, a leopard leaped over the wall, walked over those who were sleeping in the court, and without waking them, seized upon the fat sheep which the king had given me, that was tied in a corner of the yard, and carried it off in an instant, over a wall eight feet high, before the man that saw him had time to get a shot at him.
The Semoum, or hot wind of the Arabian desert, is, perhaps, the most dreadful enemy encountered by travellers. It is fabled often to reach, but never to cross the gates of Bagdad. Some years this wind does not blow at all, and in others it appears six, eight, or ten times, but seldom continues more than a few minutes. It often advances with the rapidity of lightning. When the Arabians and Persians discern its approach, they immediately throw themselves with their faces upon the ground, and continue in that position until the wind has passed, which frequently happens in an instant; but if, on the contrary, they are not careful enough or sufficiently quick to take this precaution, and they are subjected to the full violence of the wind, it is immediate death. When the fatal blast is over, they start up and look around for their companions, and if they see anyone lying motionless, they seize an arm or a leg, and pull and jerk it with some force; and if the limbs separate from the body, it is a certain sign that the wind has had its full effect upon it; but if, on the contrary, the arm or the leg does not come away, it is a sure sign that there is life remaining, although to every appearance the person is dead; and in that case, they immediately cover him with clothes, and administer some warm diluting liquor, to cause a perspiration, which is certainly but slowly effected.
The Arabs themselves say little, or nothing, about this wind, only that it leaves behind it a strong sulphurous smell, and that the atmosphere at these times is quite clear, except about the horizon in the northwest quarter, which gives warning of its approach.
Such are the accounts given of the Semoum, by some of our oldest travellers; Mr. Burckhardt, however, one of the latest travellers in Egypt and Nubia, says, that the Semoum is nothing more than a violent southeast wind. He says, the stories of its effects are much exaggerated, and that he never heard of one well authenticated instance of its having proved mortal to either man or beast. The fact is, that the Bedouins, when questioned on the subject, often frighten travellers with tales of men, and even whole caravans, having perished by the effects of the wind; when upon closer inquiry made by some persons whom they find acquainted with the desert, they will state the plain truth.'
The most disagreeable effect of the Semoum on man, is, that it stops perspiration, dries up the palate, and produces great restlessness. In June, 1813, when Mr. Burckhardt was travelling from Esne to Siout, a violent Semoum overtook him; his mule took fright and threw him, when he lay quiet until the wind abated.
The impossibility of reaching the extreme summit of Mount Ararat, even on the side where it is most easy of access, was decided by the Pacha of Bayazid some years ago.
He departed from that city with a large party of horsemen, at the most favourable season, and ascended the mountain on the Bayazid side as high as he could on horseback. He caused three stations to be marked out on the ascent, where he built huts and collected provisions. The third station was the snow. He had no difficulty in crossing the region of snow, but when he came to the great cap of ice that covers the top of the cone, he could proceed no farther, because several of his men were there seized with violent oppression of the chest, from the great rarefaction of the air. He had before offered large rewards to any one who should reach the top, but although many Kurds who live at its base have attempted it, all have been equally unsuccessful. Besides the great rarefaction of the air, his men had to contend with dangers of the falling ice, large pieces of which were constantly detaching themselves from the main body, and rolling down. During the summer, the cap of ice on its summit is seen to shine with a glow quite distinct from snow; and if the old inhabitants may be believed, this great congealed mass has visibly increased since they first knew it.
In the year 1817, Lieutenant Heude travelled overland from India to England. His route embraced Arabia, Persia, Mesopotamia, Kurdistan, and Armenia, in the course of which he witnessed the deposing and death of a Bashaw, and travelled from Bagdad with the messenger who was carrying his head, and the heads of a few others, who had been punished in a similar manner, to Constantinople.
At Bussora, he engaged a Turkish guide to conduct him through the desert; but such was his outrageous conduct, that he often endangered their lives. On quitting Shatra, they proceeded about two hours, when suddenly they entered a flat and dreary tract, overgrown with furze and brushwood, and came to the banks of the river Shatra. They had scarcely descended the steep declivity that leads to this hidden stream by a rugged path, when the dreadful battle shout of the Bedouin Arabs assailed their ears, and they found themselves in a moment surrounded by the most uncouth and savage race they had hitherto encountered.
The guide behaved with the utmost coolness and intrepidity on this trying occasion. Urging his courser forward, without the slightest hesitation, he sprang off his back in the midst of them, and throwing himself on the ground in the prostrate attitude of devotion, placed a small brass amulet, inscribed with sentences from the Koran, under his head. On the instant, every voice was hushed, the dreadful yell that had spread far and wide around the travellers, now subsided in the solemn sound; and as the prayer was continued, the arm which had raised the sword to strike, became unnerved; the hand which had reached the fatal key of destruction, was withdrawn; and all was peace. The spears of the Arabs dropped to the ground, and they joined with fervent zeal in the sacred devotions of the guide. Not a man arose from the supplicating posture which they had all gradually assumed, until the guide set them the example; when the travellers exchanging compliments of gratulation with their late dreaded enemies, the travellers joined in the extensive circle, and improved the friendly understanding which the presiding spirit of religion had inspired, by presenting the Arabs with their pipes, and replenishing their chubooks.
'It would,' says Mr. Morier, who, in the year 1809. accompanied the British embassy to Persia, 'perhaps be impossible to give to an inhabitant of London a correct idea of the first impressions made upon the European traveller on his landing in Persia. Accustomed, as his eye has been, to neatness, cleanliness, and a general appearance of convenience in the exteriors of life, he feels a depression of spirits in beholding the very contrary. In vain he looks for what his idea of a street may be; he makes his way through the narrowest lanes, encumbered with filth, dead animals, and mangy dogs. He sees no active people walking about with an appearance of something to do, but here and there he meets a native crawling along in slipshod shoes. When he seeks the markets and shops, a new and original scene opens upon him. Little open sheds in rows, between which is a passage serving for a street, of about eight feet in breadth, are to be seen, instead of our closely shut shops with windows gaily decked. Comparisons might be made without end; but however distressing the transition from great civilization to comparative barbarity may be, yet it is certain that first impressions soon wear off, and that the mind receives a new accession of feelings, adapted precisely to the situation in which it is placed.'
The gates of all towns and cities in Persia, are shut a little after sun-set, and reopened at sunrise. Strict adherence to this injunction, and carelessness or unavoidable delays on the part of travellers, often subject them to the inconvenience of reaching the gates when they are closed. Hence they must stay without till morning. And, 'during the inclement season, at opening the gates, very often a terrible scene of death unfolds itself close to the threshold; old and young, animals and children, lying one lifeless heap.'
Some years ago, a solitary traveller, who had performed a long journey on his own horse, a member of their families, to which these people are eminently attached, arrived at Tabreez when the ingress was already barred. The night was one of the severest which had been known; and the poor man, to save himself from the fatal effects he too surely anticipated, pierced his faithful horse with his dagger, and ripping up its body, thrust himself into it, in the vain hope of the warmth which might remain preserving his own vital heat until the morning. But at next dawn, when the gates were opened, he was found frozen to death in this horrible shroud.
The celebrated Erasmus lost his whole substance (quae tum erat exigua, sed mihi maxima quum nihil superesset) from a seizure by the custom-house officers at Dover, under one of those laws. Previous to his leaving England he had consulted his friend, Sir T. More, who informed him he might carry any money out of the kingdom, which was not English coin. Erasmus protests, that what he had with him, was neither coined in England, nor paid him by any one here on English account. The money was, however, taken from him, and on his landing in France, he made a hasty collection of proverbs, which he printed for subsistence.
William George Browne was one of the many enterprising individuals who have perished in the attempt to make rude and distant countries known to us. Mr. Browne, though of a feeble constitution, when only twenty-three years of age, was so stimulated with the desire to travel, by reading Bruce's Abyssinia, that he relinquished his profession of the law, and resolved to lose no further time in carrying his exploratory plans into effect.
Having determined on proceeding to the interior of Africa, by the Egyptian route, Mr. Browne left England in 1791, and in the January following arrived at Alexandria. After a two months residence, he took a journey westward into the desert, to discover the unknown site of the temple of Jupiter Ammon. He followed a circuitous route along the sea coast, to the Oasis of Sicovah; then penetrating, amid considerable dangers, three days farther into the desert, vainly searching for his object, he returned to Alexandria. He next visited Rosetta, Damietta, and Cairo, where he remained eleven months, diligently studying the Arabic language. The Mamluk war prevented his penetrating into Nubia, but he made a journey towards the Red Sea and Cossir to the immense stone quarries described by ~sBecrutce. To avoid the perils of this road, he assumed the oriental dress and character; and his enterprise was amply rewarded. He passed through immense excavations, which appeared to have been formed in the earliest ages; from which many of the great Egyptian monuments were obtained, and which furnished statues, columns, and obelisks, without number, to the Roman empire, at its utmost elevation of luxury and power.
In May, 1793, Mr. Browne set out with the great Soudan caravan, for the purpose of penetrating into Africa by Dar-Fur, on the west of Abyssinia, and so on through the latter country to the source of the grand western branch of the Nile, the Bahr-el-Abiad, or White River. During this journey, the thermometer was sometimes at 116 degrees in the shade; but notwithstanding the almost incredible hardships which our persevering countryman had to encounter, he reached Dar-Fur about the end of July.
It appeared immediately on Mr. Browne's arrival, that he had been entirely misinformed as to the character of the government, which he understood to be mild and tolerant. On the contrary, he found himself treated with the utmost harshness and severity; which, together with the fatigues of his journey and the effect of the rainy season, produced a very dangerous and almost fatal illness. As soon as he was a little recovered, he endeavoured to obtain permission to quit the country, but without effect. Nearly three years elapsed before he was suffered to depart. During the time that he was kept at Dar-Fur, he purchased two lions, which he tamed and rendered familiar. One of them having been purchased at four months old, acquired most of the habits of the dog. Mr. Browne took great pleasure in feeding them, and observing their actions and manners; and he acknowledges, that many moments of languor were soothed by the company of these domesticated kings of the forest. Having, at length, obtained leave to depart, he set forward, and reached the banks of the Nile in the spring of 1796, spent with suftering, and not having tasted animal food for four months.
In 1797, he travelled in Syria and Palestine; visited Acre, Tripoli, and Damascus, the ruins of Balbec, and Aleppo, and journeyed thence 'through Asia Minor to Constantinople. On the 16th of September, 1798, he arrived in London, after an absence of nearly seven years. Although Mr. Browne had lost some of his most valuable journals, yet he gave an account of his travels to the public in 1800. No sooner was this work completed, than the author resumed his rambling life; taking Berlin and Vienna in his way, successively visited Athens, Smyrna, Constantinople, passed across Asia Minor to Antioch, Cyprus, &c., returning to London in 1803. After passing some years in Europe, his ruling passion returned; and on considering of a variety of projects, he at length fixed upon the Tartar city of Samarcand, and the central region of Asia around it, as the objects towards which his attention should now be directed.
Having made the necessary arrangements, he left England, for the last time, in the summer of 1812; proceeded to Constantinople, and afterwards to Smyrna. In the spring of 1813, he set forward in a north-easterly direction, along the Persian road, through Asia Minor, and Armenia, to Erzerum, and reached Tabreez on the 1st of June. Having perfected himself in the Turkish language, and assumed the Turkish dress, he left Tabreez, accompanied with two servants, with the intention of penetrating through Khorassan to Teheran, the present capital of Persia, and thence to Tartary. On the second day he passed on through a part of the Persian army, which was encamped at the distance of thirty six miles from Tabreez. During the early part of this journey, he had a conference with Sir Gor