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Full text of "Hal's travels in Europe, Egypt, and the Holy Land : a twelve months' tour during which he saw many wonderful things and a vast deal of fun / by A. R. Wiggs"

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HUNTSVILIE, AlA., JajT.. 18G1.. 

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in 2010 with funding from 

Lyrasis IVIembers and Sloan Foundation 




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^ 1)J:;al or fun. 

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Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 18(il, by 


in tlic office of the Clerk of tlie District Court for the Middle 

District of Tennessee. 

sTiO!U-:uTvri;D and i'iuntkd at the 


Tho "highly respectable gentlemen" who propose to conduct our party 
across tho Desert to Mount Siuui.— Stt Letter from Cairo, p. 200. 




l!Tow, my friends, if you feel inclined to travel, I 
would be pleased to have you quit your pleasant 
homes for a season, and journey with me into 
foreign lands. I think you will find yourselves 
amply repaid for all the toils you may undergo, for 
we shall visit many lands and many peoples, and 
shall look upon sights both quaint and curious. 
"We will take our staves, bind on our sandals, and 
provide ourselves with scrip, for our wanderings 
will be long, and mayhap wearisome. I promise 
you, however, fair entertainment and. genial com- 
panions by the way, for we shall refresh ourselves 
on "praties" with our Irish friends, herrings with 
the cannie Scotch, roast-beef with bluff, honest 
John Bull, and rabbits with the hardy Welch ; with 
the polite Frenchman we will partake of wine and 
frogs, sour-krout with the pursy Dutchman, pipes 
and lager-beer with the German, goat's-milk and 
cheese with the Swiss — and then cross the proud 
Alps, and eat maccaroni with the Italian. We will 



then visit Egypt, aud test the qiiaUty of its flesh- 
pots — sail upou the chissic waters of the Xile, view 
the wonderful ruins of Thebes and Memphis, climb 
the mighty Pyramids, and — ride donkeys. Thence 
to the Holy Land, wliere priests and prophets dwelt ; 
to Jerusalem, where our blessed Saviour lived, and 
moved, and had his beiug — preached and taught, and 
healed the sick — was crucified, buried, and rose 
again. We will stand npon the mount from which 
he ascended, and many other of the sacred moun- 
tains of Palestine; will quench our thirst at the 
sacred fountains, and bathe in the waters of the 
Jordan. Thence to Phoenicia, Syria, Turkey, and 
the classic land of Greece. 

But stop ! to make this journey properly, we 
must begin at the beginning ; which we \vill do on 
the following page. 



Well, our trunks are jDacked — Pittman comes 
round with his omnibus, and we ride to the depot, 
where the "iron horse" stands panting, impatient 
to be going. We get aboard. The "steed" neighs 
— bounds away — and in a few moments we lose 
sight of dear friends, and the lovely little city of 
Huntsville. One tear — only one — steals down our 
cheeks, and then our thoughts are reaching forward 
to scenes that lie before. We are on the fast line 
now, and shall only take time to glance hastily at 
the objects along the way. Reach Chattanooga 
about night, and "put up" at the Crutchfield 
House — because we see no other house to "put up" 
at. In the morning, ride out to Lookout Mountain, 
and spend the day with the Carey family, who are 
not only clever people, but know just how to keep 
a hotel. The scenery from this mountain we shall 
not find surpassed this side of Switzerland. Return 
to Chattanooga in the evening, and on the arrival 
of the eight o'clock train, are joined by Mr. Arthur 
Robinson, who is to accompany us on our travels. 
We are heartily glad to see him. At nine o'clock, 
take the cars, and bid farewell to Chattanooga, not 
deeply impressed with the excellence of its hotel, 

8 II A L S T II A V E L S . 

but Avilling to admit tliat its proprietor is a good 
man. liun all uight, and breakfast at Kuoxville — 
most of our fellow -passengers taking " sugar in 
thcr'n" before attacking the beefsteak and coffee. 
Leaving Knoxville, we arrive at Bristol, one hun- 
dred and thirty miles, in just twelve hours and a 
lialf I — nearly eleven miles an hour! Shall remem- 
ber the clever conductor on that part of the line, 
because he stopped several times to let us pick black- 
berries. Remain three hours at Bristol, and listen 
with delight to native music, by some real old Vir- 
ginia negroes, who entertain us with the classic 
songs of "Walk Jawbone" and "Iloopta-doodeu- 
do," accompanied with the banjo, and other varia- 
tions. Leave Bristol at nine o'clock P. M., run all 
night, and in the morning find ourselves in the 
midst of the most romantic scenery of Virginia — 
the blue Peaks of Otter towering up just before us. 
Breakfast at Liberty, and take supper at Richmond 
— a first-class meal only in price. Leave Richmond 
at sunset, and at daylight next morning find our- 
selves approaching "Washington — the nation's capi- 
tal. We stop at Willard's, a number one hotel — 
judging by the bills we pay. Find some lialf-dozen 
of our Iluntsville boys here, who are out on a gene- 
ral "bust" — seeing the sights, and having a good 
time generally. They will accompany us to New 
York. Stop a couple of days in Washington, and 
look round at the lions. View the Ca[»itol and 
other public buildings with pride, and conclude that 
every American who has a heart, and not a gizzard, 


slioulcl be proud of them. Sunday is a quiet day in 
Washington ; most that is to be seen is a horde of 
clerks and under-strappers connected with the dif- 
ferent Departments, strutting about in their Sunday 
clothes, looking fiercely Democratic. Call upon 
Secretary Cass, and after assuring him in the most 
positive manner that we are truly American citi- 
zens, and not likely to be drafted into foreign ser- 
vice, he grants us passports for our foreign travels. 

Leave Washington, three o'clock P. M., pass 
through Baltimore at telegraphic speed, and arrive 
at Philadelphia ten o'clock at night. Spend a 
couple of days here. Walk through Chestnut 
street, and stare at her wonderful stores. The 
stream of people on this street, and the crowd about 
old Independence Ball, suggest the idea to some of 
the Huntsville boys that it is the "First Monday." 
Call on Siter, Price & Co., fix up our financial mat- 
ters, and leave for ISTew York — the rollicking, jost- 
ling, bustling, rip-roaring, go-ahead Gotham, where 
every thing and everybody centres on Broadway. 
Here the boys are dumfounded with astonishment, 
for Chestnut street is not a circumstance to Broad- 
way for bustle and confusion. We stop at the St. 
Mcholas, the finest hotel in the world. 

There are three of us together now, bound for the 
Old World, Mr. John Gamble, of Limestone county, 
having overtaken us at Philadelphia. We are won- 
derfully pleased with the accession. The steamer 
City of Baltimore lies in her dock, almost ready to 
put to sea. We take passage on her for Liverpool. 

10 n A L ' S T R A V E L S . 

Now, having joined ourselves to "those who go 
down to the sea in ships," we shall commit our- 
selves to the vasty deep, looking for protection to 
that God who holdeth the winds in his fists, and the 
mighty seas in the hollow of his hand. AVe leave 
our native shores and our friends with many regrets, 
but with anticipations of much pleasure beyond the 
water. Should we get safely over on the other 
shore, our friends shall hear from us again ; but if 
otherwise ordered, and we should be in old ocean 
buried, we hope to meet them all in that haven of 
rest where sorrow is not known, and where love 
and harmony shall reign for ever. 




As I rock and roll on the raging billows this 
morning, being confined within doors by a chilling 
rain, I will redeem my promise by penning you a 
few paragraphs. 

Ten days ago, myself and two friends (Eobinson 
and Gamble) wended our way from the St. Nicholas 
Hotel, IsTew York, to the ocean steamer City of Bal- 
timore, arriving just in time to get ourselves snugly 
stowed away before she set sail. Found great con- 
fusion reigning on board, and the continued arrival 
of passengers and their friends rendered the con- 
fusion worse confounded. The starting moment 
arrived. The bell rang — and then such crying, 
blubbering, hugging and kissing took place as is 
seldom seen, except on similar occasions. The last 
good-bye was finally said, and the noble steamer 
glided out of her dock, and took her course towards 
the open sea. Expected to feel awfully sublime and 
desperately solemn and romantic upon witnessing 
the gradual disappearance of the shores of mf native 
land — but didn't. Although the li^avens wept, I 

* This and most of the succeeding letters were addressed to and 
published in the Huntsville Independent. 


remained comparatively unmoved, for the chilling 
rain falling at the time, and the dense fog, were 
death to romance. A few hundred yards put us 
out of sight of both city and shore. 

Steamed ahead for two hours, and came to a halt, 
owing to a brisk head-wind and dense fog. Lay to 
near Sandy Hook till near nightfall, then went 
ahead. Spent the evening in reconnoitring and 
studying my fellow-passengers, of whom we had a 
large number. Came to the conclusion that we had 
several "characters" aboard — and was not tar 
wrong. Felt "deep sympathy for some of the ladies, 
(blessed tender-hearted creatures !) who were still 
wiping their red eyes, sorrowing for those they had 
left behind. "Was somewhat anmsed at the chatter- 
ing of a couple of damsels, (of uncertain age,) who 
made it convenient to impress the fact upon all 
W'ithin hearing, that they were setting out on a 
European tour, to be gone for at least four months. 
Have since learned that the elder and more strong- 
minded of the two intends writing a book ! She 
will no doubt "do" Europe in stylo. Shall culti- 
vate her acquaintance, and get some ideas upon the 
art of book-making. 

Found it interesting to notice the assiduity with 
which several young gentlemen labored to keep off 
sea -sickness. They had started out from N'ew 
York with a bountiful supply of medicine, of which 
they imbibed freely and frequently from wicker- 
covered flasks. They soon grew hilarious, and 
snapped their fingers at sea-sickness. 


Had a pair of Catholic bishops and three or four 
priests on board. Had no diificulty in singling 
them out, for their portly persons and sleek round 
Irish faces bespoke their calling at once. "Was mis- 
taken as to one, however, for the jolly red -nosed 
man I had taken for a priest turns out to be a 
retired Kew York merchant. He is travelling with 
his family for pleasure. Has two grown-up daugh- 
ters — fine-looking and sprightly. They talk like 
books, sing like birds, and know how to put on 
airs. They look "killingly" at my two friends, 
John and Arthur, but the effect is not yet very 
perceptible. The father of these damsels has in- 
formed me, "with a great burst of confidence," that 
he is very wealthy, and that the man who gets his 
daughter will get a prize. 

Sunday morning found us far out to sea, with 
clear sky above, and smooth sea beneath. Looked 
out upon the dreary waste of waters, and came to 
the conclusion that the "sublime grandeur" of the 
ocean, so much spouted about by poets and travelling 
writers, was all humbug. Saw nothing peculiarly 
"sublime" about it. All congratulated ourselves 
that we had escaped sea-sickness. In the afternoon 
a whale — a live whale — intrepidly came alongside 
the steamer, blowing and spouting most obstrep- 
erously. ]!!Tot so large a fish as I had expected to 
see ; but perhaps my idea of a whale was extrava- 
gant. I can still, however, believe the story of 
Jonah and the whale. 

Late in the afternoon, the wind blew hard, and 


the sea looked angry, as the white-caps burst and 
foamed upon its troubled surface. The ship rolled 
and rocked like a restless monster of the deep. Con- 
versation flagged, and a serious gravity took posses- 
sion of most of the passengers. Your correspondent 
felt remarkably serious. Some living monster 
seemed to have set up a gallop within his stomach, 
and while the cold perspiration rolled down his face, 
he made a bold attempt to go below to his berth. 
It was necessary for the steward to follow with 
broom and water, for he soiled the clean deck. 
There was a heaving on all sides, and a demand for 
bowls, buckets, etc. Finally got below, and found 
John in his berth, rolling and groaning. Joined 
liim, while Arthur, more fortunate than we, laughed 
at us most barbarously. 

Monday the sea was still very rough. The sun 
shone gloriously, but the wind blew tierce and cool. 
Few made their appearance on deck, and fewer at 
the table. My appetite has not yet come to me. 
Hope to tind it in Liverpool. 

On Tuesday morning the wind was blowing great 
guns. The sea boiled like a pot. Great waves 
chased each other, and leaped like so many furious 
mad bulls, and occasionally mounted even upon t^ie 
upper deck of our noble vessel, as she struggled 
and panted to surmount them. It was a fearful da}'. 
The heavens lowered and scowled. Two sails were 
snapped and torn away by the gale. Timid lubbers 
looked pale, and manifested a weakness in the knees. 
Friend Arthur "caved in" that day, but John and 

hal'sthavels. 15 

myself felt too serious to laugli at liim. I am now 
willine: to admit that all that has been said and 
written about the grandeur and sublimity of the 
ocean is true — no humbug about it. Ay, but the 
Atlantic is a rouffh old bruiser — a rollicking, bluff 
old bully — boxing and tossing about the monster 
steamer and the light jolly-boat with like ease and 
impunity — and, withal, more anti-bilious and anti- 
dyspeptic than all the medicines ever compounded 
or concocted by that " retired physician whose sands 
of life have nearly run out." If it was only at play 
on Tuesday — and that is what the sailors called it — 
I never wish to see it angry. 

"Wednesday and Thursday the weather was more 
pleasant, and as nothing occurred worth writing 
about on those days, you must indulge me in a little 
eulogy on hogs. I respect hogs. In fact, I may say 
that I reverence a fine fat porker. Ever since I read 
the account of the Apostle Peter's vision on the 
house-top, when he stopped with one Simon, a tan- 
ner, at Joppa, I have had a weakness for swine. 
Yes, with all their hoggish ways, I love them. They 
are good things in their place. But I do protest 
asrainst their beins* admitted into the saloons of 
ocean steamers. There they are out of place, and 
should be put out. "We have three of them with us, 
of the biped breed, in the shape of three huge beef- 
headed English bulls. They may have been well 
raised, but if so, they have been out from home long 
enough to forget their raising. They have no con- 
versation for anybody except each other, and seem 


16 H A L ' S T 11 A V E L S . 

to look upon Americans as potatoes too small for 
their digging. They sit opposite us ever}- day at 
table, aud annoy and disgust every one ^vLo sits 
near them, with their loud talk, bigoted self-impor- 
tance, and gluttony. At breakfast they monopo- 
lize every thing -within their reach, and keep the 
steward trotting for 'am and heggs. At dinner they 
continually call for roast beef, hale, etc. "We can 
scarcely get a steward to bestow any attention upon 
us, and it is so annoying, that Arthur has more than 
once been on the point of throttling the most vil- 
lainous-looking one of the trio. John and your 
correspondent would delight in pitching into the 
other two. One of them I take peculiar pleasure in 
detesting, more perhaps on account of his looks 
than any thing else. He is a hard-fcaturcd crea- 
ture, with short chin, very large mouth, huge nose, 
and pop-eyes, long arms, bowed-back, and bow-legs. 
If he were a good-looking man, his manners 
might be bearable ; but to see such a looking crea- 
ture putting on airs makes me mad. One of my 
friends gives it as his unbiased opinion that these 
fellows belong to the latter of two classes that in- 
habit the world — to wit, natural fools, and d d 

fools. I merely record this as my friend's indivi- 
dual opinion. 

Friday we were among the icebergs. Wind blew 
cold like winter. Passed three during the day, one 
of which seemed to be a quarter of a mile in dia- 
meter at the base, and towered up two or three 
hundred feet. I was gazing at it through a spy- 


glass, when a Georgia friend cam-e up and wanted to 
"look through, that brass thing" to see if he could 
see any bears : said he had heard them say down 
in Georgia that bears could always be seen on ice- 
bergs. I gratified him with a look through the 
"brass thing," but he discovered "nary" bear. 

Saturday, Sunday, and Monday were lovely days ; 
sky clear and serene, and the atmosphere bracing. 
The sea was blue and beautiful, and I passed much 
time on deck, watching the waves as they sported 
and chased each other like gleesome children at 
play. On such days I love to sit for hours together 
and watch the rolling and swelling of the deep blue 
waters. There is a charm about the sea which 
grows upon one in spite of himself, and I wonder 
not that seamen become so much attached to the 
briny deep. 

Had Divine service on Sunday, in the saloon. 
Passengers and sailors, except those on duty, were 
called together by the ringing of the ship's bell. 
The Captain led the service, which was Episcopal. 
The Catholic clergy and their followers refused to 
be present, fearing, perhaps, that coming in contact 
with Protestantism might defile them — not a Cath- 
olic remained in the saloon. In the afternoon, 
Catholic service was held, led by Bishop Connor, of 
Pittsburg. The burden of his discourse was on 
Charity ! The Protestants were all present to hear 
him — 'practicing what he onlj ijreached. At night we 
had sacred music, and indulged in some good old 

18 II A L ' S T n A V E L S . 

camp-meeting songs, whicli iiuule mo think of home 
and the revival scenes I have witnessed there. 

A\'c(hiesday morning early, was aroused from my 
slumbers with the joyful shout of "Land! Laud!" 
Rushed up on deck, half dressed, and after straining 
my eyes for some time to penetrate the thick fog, 
descried a long, low, black streak in the horizon, 
said to be the coast of Irelaud. The fog soon blew 
away, and sure enough, there lay, in all its beauty, 
the Emerald Isle — the " gem of the ocean." Steamed 
into the Cove of Cork, said to be one of the finest 
harbors in the world ; discharged about one hun- 
dred passengers — among them the Catholic clergy, 
and the Yankee spinsters who are to travel four 
months, and write a book ! Leaving Cork, we 
steamed ahead for Liverpool, and landed here early 
this morning. 

So here we are in Liverpool — the great commer- 
cial emporium of Great Britain — one of the first 
commercial cities of the world. We have tramped 
round most of the day, looking at the magnificent 
edifices and some fine monuments. Boot-blacks 
and newsboys annoy strangers a good deal, and 
beggars are also to be met. "VVe shake all oft', and 
keep the even tenor of our way. To-morrow we go 
to London, and from there I will write you again. 
Adieu. Hal. 

hal'stravels. 19 



So we are in London at last ! London, the capital 
of Great Britain, the seat of royalty, and the me- 
tropolis of the world — the great city, the smoke of 
whose furnaces ascends np for ever and ever, and 
then comes down again, leaving its dark impress 
upon all objects below. London, where Shakspeare 
lived, and wrote, and played, and swilled his 'alf- 
and-'alf ; where rare Ben Jonson lived, and moved, 
and had his being; where Goldsmith, and many 
other poets and philosophers, came well-nigh starving 
to death, and where Spenser actually did die for 
want of bread. London, where princes and beggars 
jostle each other; where millionnaires and gaunt, 
starving wretches stare each other in the face; where 
the jungles of infamy and the palaces of luxury are 
within a stone's-throw of each other ; where priests 
and pickpockets are near neighbors, and where the 
philosopher and the clown swill two-penny beer from 
the same pot. Ay, but London is a great city, and 
to tell of but the half I have seen here would fill a 
book. One sees so much here, he becomes be- 
wildered and sick, and gets things so jumbled up 
in his mind that it is next to impossible to get 

20 hal'stravels. 

them untangled. My two friends and myself make 
it a business to keep going and seeing, but when 
we return to our domiciles at night, we have but an 
indistinct recollection of splendid palaces, magni- 
ficent churches, beautiful parks and gardens, monu- 
ments, rich paintings, and an innumerable multitude 
of people. Each place we visit would require days 
to get it foirly and fully impressed upon the mind. 
One should stay a full year in London to see the 
'V_ I find that we are known here by all classes as 
Americans, and are consequently "set upon" by 
beggars, and continually swindled by cab-drivers. 
Don't know what it is that betrays our nationality. 
Can't be our dress, for we dress like the English ; 
nor can it be our language, for we speak plain 
English ; and to suppose it any thing like verdancy 
in our appearance would be absurd, for we even 
labor to look wise. Yet we are known and 
"spotted" as "Yankees" in all parts of London. 
It may possibly be our good looks. Started out the 
other morning to find the Thames Tunnel. Police- 
man tendered his services, saying he knew we were 
Americans and strangers, and he would conduct us 
to the proper place to take the down-river boat ; 
gave him pleasure to serve Americans, as he had 
once visited Mobile. The agent who gave us tickets 
for the boat, remarked that they were worth eight 
cents apiece, as we probably understood the Ameri- 
can better than the English currency, lleachcd the 
entrance to the Tunnel, paid our pennies, and as 

hal's travels. 21 

we passed in, the gate-keeper handed us a printed 
description of the great and curious work, saying 
we might take it back to America with us. Passing 
along through the brilliantly lighted Tunnel, were 
seen by a musician who sat near the opposite end. 
He recognized us at a distance of fifty yards, and 
struck up "Yankee Doodle." We stopped to listen, 
and then approached him slowly, when he commenced 
"Hail Columbia." "We gave him some pennies and 
passed on. Upon one occasion we were hailed by 
a newsboy. We refused to buy the Times, when 
the little scamp turned up his nose and ran oif, 
crying, "I smell Yankee ! I smell Yankee !" And 
this is about the way we are continually made to 
remember the fact that we 2a^Q foreigners ! 

Leaving the Tunnel, we wandered through the 
venerable precincts of Wapping, that we might see 
something of low as well as Mgh life.' Passed 
through "Bleeding-heart Yard," and, not 'far dis- 
tant, saw the remains of " Tom-all-alone's," and if 
we didn't see poor "Joe," certainly saw his suc- 
cessor. Pie is still kept "moving on." The elder 
Mr. Turveydrop is still to be met on the street, but 
begins to look seedy, while the "young man of the 
name of Guppy" seems to be doing ar thriving busi- 
ness in Chancery Lane. 

Have visited Greenwich, about six miles down 
the river, to see the great hospital for superannuated 
seamen, the Naval School, and the Observatory, 
from which longitude is reckoned. Same day paid 
a visit to the Great Eastern steamship, the largest 


craft ever put afloat — Noah's ark not excepted. 
London is full of wonders, but this monster steamer 
is the greatest wonder of them all. She is nearly 
seven hundred feet long, one hundred and twenty 
feet wide across the paddle-boxes, sixty feet deep ; 
has nineteen water-tight compartments. Has Ave 
large saloons, two of which are seventy feet long. 
Diameter of the side-wheels fifty-six feet. Has an 
enormous screw-propeller. Engines three thousand 
horse-power. Has five decks. Wliole ship built 
of wrought iron. Can spread six thousand yards 
of canvass ! When finished, she will visit the 
United States. Guess Brother Jonathan will go 
into big ecstasies, and tear his trowsers, when he 
sees her paddling about in his waters. 

Went Sunday to hear the celebrated Spurgeou 
preach. It was with difficulty we found the place. 
Met a respectable " Pecksniffian"- looking gentle- 
man, and asked him if he could tell us where Mr. 
Spurgeon would preach that day. Hung down his 
head, hemmed a little, seemed in deep thought, 
looked up, and asked if we were not Americans ? 
Told him we were. Hung his head again, paused, 
put his finger to the side of his nose, and repeated 
the word slowly three times, "Spurgeon, Spurgeon, 
Spurgeon." Shook his head, rolled up his eyes, 
and said "No !" Asked a cab-driver, and his reply 
was, "Two shillin's." Met the elder Mr. Turvey- 
droj), and put the question to him. Put the head 
of his cane to his nose, and said he was sure he had 
lieard the name of Spurgeon before — quite sure he 


had — but really could not tell where, when, nor in 
what connection. Policeman told us to go to Park 
Lane. Another policeman said "IsTo — not Park 
Lane." Finally, we were informed by genteel- 
looking individual — very genteel, but a little seedy — 
who spoke with all the confidence of a Micawber — 
that Mr. Spurgeon preached at Surrey Gardens — 
quite sure of it, for he lived in that neighborhood. 
We took a cab, and rode three miles to Surrey Gar- 
dens, and found the gentleman's statement correct. 
Found the great hall densely crowded, and the 
people still coming in streams. With difficulty we 
got standing room. Got our places just as the 
preacher commenced his first prayer. ,^ 

'Now that I have heard Spurgeon, perhaps you 
expect me to give my opinion of the preacher and 
his sermon. It may be presumption — and is pre- 
sumption — for me to attempt to criticise the sermon 
of a man whose reputation is so extensive on both 
sides of the Atlantic. But I speak for myself, and 
nobody else, when I say I was grievously disap- 
pointed. Perhaps I expected too much — no doubt 
did — ^but I say what I believe to be true, and what 
I felt to be true at the time, that I have heard ser- 
mons in the United States that pleased me much 
better, and were better calculated to lead sinners to 
repentance. Mr. Spurgeon is a good man and a 
good preacher, but if he is worthy of his great repu- 
tation, then I am dull indeed. His style of preach- 
ing is so very difierent from other preachers in this 
country, that it has given him a great notoriety, 

24 hal'stravels. 

and the people run to liear liim in great numbers, 
because they are ever ready to hear some new thing. 
"While the preachers of tlie Church of England de- 
liver dr}^ windy, punctilious, big-worded, written 
sermons, Spurgeon marches up oit-hand, and takes 
the bull by the horns, just as some of our preachers 
do. He calls things by their right names — uses 
language plain and easy to be understood — and 
hence takes hold of the people. His figures are apt, 
vivid, and to the point — homely enough, some of 
them. Voice clear, and words distinct ; yet, in de- 
clamation, I know stump - speakers in Tennessee 
that can beat him. There are plenty of preachers 
in our country who could get up as great if not a 
greater furor in London than Mr. Spurgeon has. 
His sermon on Sunday was preached from Matthew 
xi. 29: "For I am meek and lowly in heart." 

Do not infer from what I have said that I think 
Mr. Spurgeon an ordinarj' man. He is a great 
preacher ; and we, too, have great preachers on our 
side of the water — greater, perhaps, than Mr. Spur- 
geon. My two friends are entirely delighted with 
liim, and differ with me as to his ability, ^fr. S. 
looks to be about thirty or thirty-five years of ago, 
has rather a boyish fjice, full and round, wears a 
high shirt collar and white cravat, to make him look 

But enough of Spurgeon. There are a thousand 
things I might write about, but shall not do it. 
You may expect me to give you a description of the 
splendid House of Parliament, of "Windsor Castle, 


St. Paul's Church, IlTational Art Gallery, Hyde 
Park, Eegent's Park, St. James's Park, and the 
thousand-and-one things of national and historical 
interest here ; but you will be disappointed, for I 
shall not attempt anything of the sort. I didn't 
intend from the start to write any such letters. 
For information on these things I refer you to any 
book of travels, for all travellers who write think 
themselves in duty bound to describe those places, 
and I shall not follow in their footsteps. I could 
not do it without copying copiously from the guide- 
books ; hence, will not try. If I can't be original, I 
won't be at all. 

"Went down the other evening and took a look at 
Buckingham Palace, the town residence of Her 
Royal Highness, Queen Victoria. Her Majesty not 
being at home, we did n't call. She, with her little 
responsibilities, is on a visit to the Isle of "Wight. 
Left a few days before we reached London. Pre- 
sume she did not know we were coming. 

Shall visit the Tower of London to-morrow, where 
all the State prisoners have been imprisoned and be- 
headed from time immemorial. Place of terrible 
interest, that Tower. Must also visit the House of 
Lords and the Crystal Palace. Sorry we have not 
more time to spend in London, for one should not 
run through it in a hurry. But must be in Paris on 
the 15th, to witness the great ISTapoleon /e/e, and the 
entree of the grand army of Italy. It will be one of 
the greatest pageants ever seen in the world. It 
will compensate us in some degree for the disappoint- 


ment in not getting over here in time to sec a great 
battle fought in Italy. 

Hold ! List ! There's another hand-organ thun- 
dering away ! The seventh time that an organ has 
been played under my window since this letter was 
commenced ! I acknowledge my Aveakness for mu- 
sic, but must confess that m}^ respect for Italy and 
for Italians generally is daily giving w^ay under the 
pressure of too much grinding upon the organ. 
There is no less than a regiment of stout Italians 
now in London, assiduously devoting themselves to 
the profession. It would be a good thing if they 
could be put on a cotton-plantation in Alabama, 
under a good overseer. 

The hotels of London are not to be compared 
with those of New York. Upon arriving here we 
stopped at Morlcy's Hotel, Charing Cross, said to 
be one of the finest in Loudon ; but to those coming 
from Philadelphia or l!Tcw York, it will appear as 
small potatoes. We soon discovered that the charges 
ranged at least fifty per cent, higher than in New 
York, and we took ourselves suddenly away, and 
would advise our friends, if they ever come to Lon- 
don, and feel economicall}'- disposed, to take private 
lodgings, as we have done. 

This letter is long enough. Good-bye. 





I HAD an idea before coming to Loudon that it 
was a great city. Am now convinced that it is all 
my fancy painted it, and fifty per cent. more. Since 
my last letter I have been going, going, going con- 
tinually, and the more I try to find the end of it, 
the more I can't do it. Have seen it from the 
"deck" of an omnibus for ten miles at a stretch — 
viewed it from the tallest towers and steeples — 
walked it until my feet are blistered, and my mus- 
cles sore — and still it seems the same endless Lon- 
don — full of interest, full of magnificent architec- 
ture, full of classic localities, and full of wicked- 
ness. I have seen the " lions" and the " elephant" 
— have tramped from " Blackfriars" to "White- 
friars" — ^have threaded my way from Pall-mall to 
" Temple Bar" — have run the gauntlet from "Pud- 
ding Lane" to "Pie Corner" — forced my way through 
the mass from "Billingsgate" to " Cock Lane" — 
scrambled from "Kewgate" to " Dog's-Misery" — 
have cabbed it from "Regent's Park" to "Surrey 
Gardens"— 'bussed it from "The Angel" to the 
"Elephant-and-Castle"— from "Piccadilly" to "The 


Eagle" — and from " Chariug Cross" to " Vauxball 
Gardens" — in sliort, have been, it seems, almost 
everywhere, and jet have seen but little of London, 

Visited to-day St. Bartholomew's church, in Smith- 
field Market, to see the ground where so many 
Christian martyrs were burned during the reign of 
bloody Queen Mary. Also the tower erected to 
commemorate the great fire of London, in 1666. It 
is an immense column, two hundred and two feet 
high, and located two hundred and two feet from 
the spot in "Pudding Lane" where the fire origi- 
nated. After its erection, the following inscription 
was engraved upon the base : 

" This pillar was set up in perpetuall remembrance of that most 
dreadful burning of this Protestant citye, begun and carryed on by 
ye treachery and malice of ye Popish factio, in ye beginning of Sep- 
tem, in ye yearc of our Lord 1G66, in order to ye carrying on their 
liorrid plot of extirpating ye Protestant religion and old English 
liberty, and yc introducing Popery and slavery." 

As many as six persons have committed suicide 
by throwing themselves from the top of this monu* 
ment. Also visited Charter House Square, where 
sixty thousand of the better class of the citizens of 
London were buried during the Great Plague. Also 
T3unliill Fields Cemetery, where rest the mortal re- 
mains of Kcv. Mr. Fox, the founder of the Quaker 
sect of religionists ; Dr. Isaac Watts, wdiose hymns 
will be sung till time shall be no more; John Bun- 
yan, whose " Christian" in the Pilgrim's I'rogress 
will ever be the admiration of Christian warriors ; 


aud many others are buried there whose names are 
familiar to Protestant Christians throughout Chris- 

On Sunday, instead of going to hear S^Durgeon 
again, went to the Wesley Chapel, and after service 
went to the rear of the church and saw the tomb of 
the great divine and founder of Methodism. Also 
the ground where Goldsmith is said to have been 

Friend Arthur went again last Sunday to hear 
Spurgeon, and came back rather chapfallen. Don't 
now think quite so much of him as he did. Says 
he didn't preach near so well as on the Sunday be- 
fore — and took occasion to come down upon Ameri- 
can slavery with a vim ; quoted the sixth verse of 
Psalm ciii., " The Lord executeth righteousness 
and judgment for all that are oppressed," and said 
that was a "fit legacy left by David to the slave- 
holders of America." "Won't some kind-hearted 
philanthropist have the goodness to send Mr. Spur- 
geon a copy of Ross's Bible Defence of Slavery ? I 
am persuaded that the overrated individual might 
read it with profit. It is said that Spurgeon intends 
shortly to visit America. If so, I trust our good 
people will endeavor to hold themselves on the 
ground. It is not customary, I know, for them to 
be temperate when famous foreigners go among 
them. All the talent of America might come to 
London, and there would not be half the sensa- 
tion manifested as in 'New York when Charles 
Dickens went among them. Guess Spurgeon will 


meet a similar reception. If so, hope lie -will write 
a " Martin Chuzzlewit." 

- I have been through most of the parks, many of 
the churches, castles, and towers, but among them 
all found no spot which brought up such thoughts 
as the Tower of London, the place where has been 
shed so much royal and so much innocent blood, 
and where have been imprisoned many hundreds 
whose names adorn or blacken the pages of history. 
This tower is an immense fortress, surrounded with 
a deep moat which can be filled at any moment 
with water from the Thames, on the banks of which 
it stands. In the centre stands a tower, from which 
the fortress takes its name. Tradition says it was 
built by Julius Csesar, some say by William the 
Conqueror. The arms and armor of England, 
from Edward the First on down through successive 
reigns, are still preserved here, as well as thousands 
of other relics of antiquity. I was in the cell where 
Sir Walter Raleigh was confined for twelve years. 
It is small, without a particle of light, and the walls 
are fifteen feet thick. In front of this cell stands 
the block on which so many have been beheaded, 
including kings, queens, lords and ladies. The 
fatal axe lies beside it, blackened with rust — the 
same axe which severed the heads of Lady Jane 
Grey, Anne 13oleyn, Sir Walter Raleigh, and hun- 
dreds of others. I passed through many cells, but 
lingered longest to gaze upon the one in which the 
gentle Queen Anne Boleyn was confined previous 
to her execution. The history of that tragedy 


passed before me, and I almost cursed the memory 
of tlie bloody Henry YIII. I thought of the splen- 
dor and pomp with which she was received at the 
palace (then in the Tower) on her espousal to the 
brutal Henry. She was on that occasion escorted 
by the Lord Mayor and his train, arrayed in scarlet, 
with gold chains about their necks, in gilded barges 
of great magnificence, and was received amidst the 
melody of trumpets and musical instruments, and 
a mighty peal of guns. This was the reception 
Henry gave her. The next day she proceeded from 
the Tower to "Westminster, with all the pomp and 
heraldry of pride and power. She is described as 
tall and slender, face oval, hair black, complexion 
rather pale, features and figure symmetrical ; and it 
is said that beauty and sprightliness sat on her lips; 
and in readiness of wit she was unsurpassed. 

This was truly a splendid beginning — but what 
an ending ! Three years after, the tongue of jeal- 
ousy and slander aspersed her fair name. She was 
committed to the Tower, a prisoner ; arraigned 
and tried for unfaithfulness to her royal but villain- 
ous husband, and pronounced guilty. When her 
sentence was pronounced, she raised her hands and 
eyes to heaven, and exclaimed: "0 Father! O 
Creator ! Thou who art the way, the truth, and 
the life, thou knowest I have not deserved this 
death !" She was conducted to the place of execu- 
tion without being permitted even to see the cruel 
author of her death. Those who were eye-witnesses 
of the scene, record that her beauty €n that day 


was mournfully brilliant. After addressing a few 
words to those who stood around, she laid her head 
on the fatal block, and it was severed at one stroke. 
Her body was thrust into an old chest, and hurried 
away to the vault of the chapel, in front of which 
the scaffold stood. The place where the scafibld 
stood is marked with black stones, while the rest of 
the court is paved with stones of a light color. 

I have visited some of the London theatres, and 
have seen the boards trod by some of the ancient 
worthies. "Went to the Haymarket last night, and 
saw a play which might be performed to advantage 
in some parts of our own country — entitled, "The 
Contested Election ; or, the way M. P.'s get their 
seats." It was a good "take-off" of the manner in 
which members of Parliament are made. None but 
rich men can get a seat in the English Parliament, 
for almost every elector has his price, and votes for 
the highest bidder. Have learned this from debates 
in the House of Commons, where about a dozen 
cases of contested election arc now being tried. 
The proof shows that nearly all were elected by 
bribery. The constituencies being small, it is easier 
for a man to buy them up here than in the United 
States, where every man is a voter. They have a 
curious way here of managing elections. The can- 
didate is in the background — gives the canvass up 
into the hands of a club or committee. He fur- 
nishes the money, and the committee hire and send 
out "electioncerers." The "electioneerers" buy 
votes, paying each voter his price. The candidate 


justifies himself by saying that lie is a poor hand to 
electioneer, and merely hires these men to do it for 
him, paying them for their time, and giving them a 
certain sum of money extra, to be expended for 
"refreshments." Several members have been oust- 
ed within the last few days. The play above al- 
luded to was got up to take off the cases now being 
tried, and does it admirably. 

The city of London proper is but a small part of 
London. What is called "The City" is independent 
of the rest, having its own government. It was a 
walled city in ancient times. Part of the wall still 
stands. Temple Bar (an ancient gate) remains as a 
remembrance of the old wall, dividing the city from 
the new part of London. It is an immense arch, 
spanning the street just at the meeting of the Strand 
and Fleet streets. Upon the top of this arch the 
heads of desperate criminals used to be placed, to 
be scoffed at by the public. 

People here have a singular idea about time and 
age. I dropped into a barber-shop the other day, 
under Temple Bar, to get my hair cut. Found the 
barber a loquacious fellow, as all barbers are. Told 
him I thought he had a good stand for his business, 
being located under the ancient and time-honored 
Temple. "Bless you, sir," said he, "this haint the 
hold bar. This is the new 'un. The hold 'un was 
pulled down, it got so rickety, and this new 'un 
built. This haint 'ardly two 'undred years hold 
yet." I thought two hundred years a good old age. 

Billingsgate, I am persuaded, is hardly maintain- 

34 hal'stravels. 

ing its ancient reputation. I spent half an lioiir 
there one day, and did not hear more than lialf a 
dozen oaths, and but few indecent expressions. 
The coarse language of this place is notorious 
throughout the world. 

Thcvo stripped, fair rhetoric languished on the ground. 

His blunted arms by sophistry are borne, 

And shameless Billingsgate her robes adorn. — Pope. 

Billingsgate is a fish-market, and is about the 
loudest smelling place I have found about London, 
even surpassing the river Thames, if possible. 

Don't know but I begin to feel a little more im- 
portant than I used to feci. It is not common for 
plain republicans to be admitted within less than 
bow-shot of royalty, but I have been much nearer ; 
in fact, almost in the very presence of the royal 
family. Through the intercession of the American 
Legation, I was granted a card of admission to the 
Queen's Stables. The document was crowned with 
the royal arms, (to wdt : a lion and unicorn rampant,) 
and read as follows : 

Mastkr of the ITohse's Office, "(^ 
Royal Mews, Pimuco. J 

Admit Mr. ITal and party of two to view the 

Queen's Stables. 

J. H. Groves, 

Crown Equerry. 

Did myself the honor to call at the Master of the 
Horse's oflice yesterday, and was well paid for the 
visit. The finest stud of horses I ever saw, of 

hal'stravels. 35 

course. There are one liundred and fifty horses. 
Great ceremony is observed at these stables. An 
ofiicial received me at the gate in rich uniform — cut 
off part of my ticket of admission, and handed me 
over to a cockaded gentleman, who conducted me 
to another office, v^diere I was required to register 
my name and place of residence, and deliver up the 
rest of my ticket. A third individual with gold lace 
and shiny buttons conducted me into a stable where 
stood a dozen of Prince Albert's saddle-horses. 
After explaining to me the qualities of each parti- 
cular horse, (for he understood "'orse-talk" per- 
fectly,) he handed me over to a fourth, and thus I 
was conducted through all the stables, coach and 
harness houses, a different "gentleman" accom- 
panying me through each place. And now you 
know how near an approach I have made to royalty 
since my sojourn in London. 

Guess I have bored you enough, and will desist. 
Shall go to Paris to-morrow. 

Yours, etc., Hal. 

36 hal'stravels. 



I AM in a state of excitement this morning — be- 
wildered — in fact, I might say, dumfounded — and 
the reliability of what I write on this occasion may 
well be doubted. I have seen enough within the 
last few days to turn the head of a sage, or to com- 
pletel}^ derange a man of ordinary' sense. I am in 
Paris, and have seen something of Paris life. You 
don't know what that means, nor does any one who 
has never been here. I have heard of Paris and 
read of Paris all my life, but had not the most faint 
conception of its grandeur, beauty, gayety, or frivo- 
lity until now. It is the place of places — the city 
of cities — where voluptuousness abides, -and Avhere 
wickedness doth abound ; where the people sit down 
to eat and drink, and rise up to phiy — a city that 
seems to be verging upon the condition of the great 
Babylon before its downfall — because it seems to 
mo she makes "all nations drink of the wine of the 
wrath of her fornication." 

I have seen enough since my arrival in Paris to 
keep me writing a wi'ck, and to fill six newspapers; 
but don't be alarmed — I'm not going to do it. I 
must put a rein upon my scribbling inclination. 

hal'stravels. 37 

Tlie great fete of tlie age — yea, the greatest the 
world has ever known, has just closed — a fete got 
up, directed and managed by Emperor ISFapoleon 
III., backed by the city of Paris, and aided and 
assisted by the entire French nation. My pen 
shrinks back appalled when I think of attempting 
to give you even a distant glimmering of the bril- 
liancy of the scenes in Paris during the last two 
days — to-wit, Sunday and Monday. It can't be 
portrayed on paper. An attempt to do so would 
be simply ridiculous. I can mention some things 
that were done, however. The entree of the Grand 
Army of Italy, headed by Napoleon and his staff", 
was a scene of grandeur seldom witnessed. It was 
not the army alone that constituted the beauty of 
the scene : it was the manner in which it was wel- 
comed — the immense crowd of people — the thou- 
sands upon thousands of flags, banners and devices 
which greeted the war-worn veterans — the shouts, 
and the immense showers of wreaths and bouquets 
showered upon them from the windows, the bal- 
conies, and housetops, as they passed the streets. 
Their march was from the Place du Trone along the 
Boulevards, (the broadest and most beautiful street 
of Paris,) a distance of nearly five miles, to what is 
called the Place Yendome, (a square in which stands 
the great column surmounted with the statue of 
ISTapoleon Bonaparte, the whole cast from the can- 
non taken by him in his various battles.) This 
square, which is four hundred and fifty feet across, 
was surrounded with seats,, capable of seating 

38 hal'stravels. 

twenty-one thousand persons, all of whom were of 
the privileged classes, and entered the place by 
ticket. Every window, and the balconies of the 
houses surrounding this square, and even the roofs, 
were tilled with people — the cliic of Paris. On one 
side was a crimson velvet canopy over a tribune, 
where the Empress and her royal guests sat during 
the four hours and ten minutes that it took the 
army to pass. The Emperor sat on his horse in 
front of the tribune during the whole time, and 
greeted each regiment as it passed. The brilliancy 
of the decorations of this square cannot be described. 
It seemed as if millions of dollars had been expended 
for banners, arches and columns ; crimson, blue and 
purple velvet, trimmed and embroidered with gold 
lace, were suspended from every window around the 
square. The Empress sat during most of the time 
with the little Prince Imperial in her arms. The 
little fellow was dressed in the uniform of the Impe- 
rial Guards. But wh}' should I attempt a detailed 
account ? I will sura it up by saying that the whole 
distance marched by the army, from the place of 
starting, about ten miles, back to the Bastilc, was a 
scene of flaunting banners, triumplial arches, crowds 
of peoi)lc, both on the streets, in the windows, 
and on the housetops, and the continual yell of 
"Vive I'Empereur!" "Vive rArmec !" "Vivo les 
Zouaves !" etc., etc. 

The procession consisted of 69,800 men, and 144 
pieces of cannoji, besides many thousands of other 
troops not belonging to the Array of Italy. It 

hal'stravels. 39 

took four hours and ten minutes for the procession 
to pass. There were 63,000 infantry, 2800 cavahy, 
2400 artillerymen, 800 engineers, and 300 with the 
wagon-train. I do not know the number of soldiers 
not of the Army of Italy, though there were many 
thousands. There were also 6500 horses attached 
to the cannon and wagon -train. The regiments 
marched about sixteen abreast, headed by their re- 
spective officers. The order was as follows : 

1st. The Emperor and his escort, (from the Bas- 
tile to the Place Vendome.) 

2d. The banners taken from the Austrians. 

3d. The Austrian cannon. 

4th. The wounded — some limping, some with 
bandages around their heads, and others with their 
arms in slings. 

5th. The Zouaves, composed of Turks, Moors, 
and desperate-looking Frenchmen. 

6th. Artillery and baggage-wagons. 

7th. Infantry. 

8th. Regiment of Lancers. 

9th. Cavalry of the Guard, in glittering armor. 

10th. The Emperor and his attendants brought 
up the rear from the Place Yendome, down Rue de 
Rivoli, to the Palace of the Tuileries. 

After the street had been somewhat cleared, the 
Empress and her household followed on to the Tuil- 
eries in the State carriages, each drawn by only 
two horses, and entirely unattended except by the 

"We had a good opportunity to see the whole of 

40 II A L ' S T n A V E L S . 

the procession, having a stand in a balcony in front 
of our liotcl, from which we could see both the army 
and the masses of people np and down the streets 
for miles. It is estimated that there were from five 
to eight hundred thousand people on the streets on 
Sunday, besides what were in the houses and on the 
housetops. It seemed to an American like any thing 
but Sunday. The hundred brass bands, the scores 
and scores of kettle-drums, the yells of' the masses, 
and the confusion generally, made it seem more like 
pandemonium than a city professing to be Chris- 
tian. Hundreds of priests, monks, and friars were 
pushing and crowding along with the rest, lookijig 
any thing but meek and lowly, as would have be- 
come their long black robes and shaven pates. The 
day finally closed with a partial illumination of 
many of the streets. 

But Monday was the big fete day. Interesting, 
and brilliant spectacles were got up and carried .on 
during the day in every part of the city. As I could 
not sec all, I chose to go to the Hotel des Invalides, 
(a church, fortification, and hospital for invalid sol- 
diers, all coml)ined,) in which is the Tomb of Napo- 
leon I., and in which was sung a grand To Deum, 
and High Mass was celebrated, which is done twice 
a year, viz., on Christmas and on the lAth of Au- 
gust. The perlbrmancc was rather imposing, but 
did not strike me forcibly. The high dignitaries of 
the Church wore dressed in rich gold-embroidored 
robes, and looked ferociously pious; but during 
their wails, lamentations, waving of censers, and 


beseecliings of tlie Virgin Mary to pray for tlie re- 
pose of the soul of ISTapoleon I., I could not but 
think of the impious manner in which they had 
desecrated the Sabbath but the day before. 

After the service concluded, I spent the rest of 
the day in wandering about from place to place, see- 
ing the various shows and sights got up for the oc- 
casion. The large plot of ground in front of the 
Invalides (from fifty to one hundred acres) was 
crowded with exhibitions of all kinds. There were 
five or six circuses going on, four theatres, the whole 
fronts being entirely open ; several platforms on 
which were performing rope-dancers, dancing-girls, 
tumblers, etc. ; innumerable Punch and Judy shows ; 
monkeys and ponies performing ; one or two 
dozen "flying-jennies" on which twenty or thirty 
persons could ride at once; several sham-battles; 
four very tall greased poles, on the tops of which were 
hung watches and other trinkets, prizes for any one 
who could reach them. I noticed one chap who had 
started up with his pockets full of pulverized chalk 
which he rubbed upon the pole as he ascended. He 
had almost reached the prize, but my attention being 
called to something else, I did not see how he came 
out. Balloons in the shape of mammoth bulls, 
lions, leopards, and men, were sent up at intervals 
during the day, and late in the evening a very large 
balloon was let off" with two men in the car attached. 
They went very high, and soon disappeared in the 
distance. All these exhibitions were free to the pub- 
lic, being paid for by the government. 

42 n A L ' S T K A V E L S . 

Late in the cveniiiiir I wandered through the large 
open spaces of the Champs Elysees, Place de hi 
Concorde, the Tuilories (Jardens and Grove, the 
streets de Rivoli, Bonlevards, and the Place Ven- 
dome, and found them all crowded alike with a 
dense mass of men and women. It would be im- 
possible almost to exaggerate the number of people. 
"Were I to say I saw a thousand acres of human 
beings, I should fall short of the mark, and I saw- 
but a small portion of the city. 

But now I come to the illumination at night. 
"What shall I say ? What can I say about it ? Its 
beauty was a thousand degrees beyond any thing I 
had dreamed of. If I were to study and write for 
twelve months, and emi)loy every word in the Eng- 
lish language that signifies, either directl}' or re- 
motely, the beautiful, you would have but a faint 
glimmering of the scene I would attempt to paiut. 
Every street, every house, every garden, every foun- 
tain, every tree, every column, monument, and 
statue, was brilliant. The number of lights was 
beyond calculation. Figures and devices of every 
fantastic shape could be seen — festoons, eagles, 
chicken-cocks, banners, palaces, pyramids, etc., etc., 
could be seen on every hand. The whole city was 
as light as day, and the streets as densely crowded 
as could be. Our hotel (de Hivoli) fronts the Tuil- 
eries Gardens, and the scene from our balcony was 
as fine as could be had from any point. AVe could 
see for miles. 

The grand fireworks commenced about 9 o'clock, 

hal'stravels. 4S 

and if Vesuvius ever presented a finer appearance, 
it was certainly astonishing to the natives. The 
fireworks, like the illuminating lamps, were of the 
tri-color — red, white, and blue. 

To conclude, it is estimated that there were more 
people in Paris by far yesterday than were ever here 
before, and that more money was expended in getting 
up the fetes than was ever expended since the world 

I have much more to write, but must reserve it 
for another occasion. I must see more of Paris, and 
will next time write you a Ifiore interesting letter. 
For the present. Adieu. Hal. 

P. S. — I must not omit to tell you that at one 
time during Sunday I was within a few feet of Em- 
press Eugenia. I got a good look at her, and must 
call her beautiful. I pulled ofi" my hat, and smiled 
and bowed to her. She waved her fan gracefully, 
and bowed and smiled in return. (The Emperor 
was not near enough to observe us.) Since then I 
have felt inclined to cut the acquaintance of my 
American friends. Don't know what I may do on 
reflection. I dislike to do it, for I have two most 
excellent companions, John G. and Arthur E.., who, 
by the way, are enjoying Paris extensively. 

44 hal's travels. 



Paris, for beauty and magnificence, surpasses 
any thing I had dreamed of. Its gay inhabitants, 
its beautiful gardens, its magnificent palaces, its 
brilliant cafes, its lovely promenades, its cooling 
fountains, its galleries of paintings and statuar}^ its 
gorgeous shops, its bustling boulevards, and its 
flashing quays — all those things I have heard of 
from my youth up, but the half had not been t<dd 
me. Nor is it possible for me to give you any thing 
approaching a correct idea of Paris. To be known 
as it is, it must be seen. 

I have been studying the French people assidu- 
ously for the past three weeks, and have arrived at 
a conclusion ! Yes, sir — I have come to a conchi- 
sion ! You may say this is preposterous — absurd — 
ridiculous — for a fresh import all tlie way from 
Ahibama (a region generally regarded by Europeans 
as heathendom) to form, and actually cxpresi^ iu 
writing, an opinion of this highl}- enlightened and 
doubly-refiiu'd pcojile after a study of only three 
weeks! Call it what you please. I have ibrmt^d 
an opinion, and shall express it boldly, without 
equivocation or mental reservation. It is this: 


That the French are a strange and unaccountable 
people ! The more I see of them, the more I am 
constrained to quote the brilliant exclamation of 
Hans Yon Vochensberg, upon liis first visit to Paris : 
"Mine Got! vat a peoples!" and again, when he 
saw a monkey, with eyes rolled up and hands 
erect he exclaimed, " Donner and blitzen ! vat vill 
de Frenchman make next?" These classic expres- 
sions pass through my mind daily because of the 
strange things I see. If there be any thing that a 
Frenchman cannot make o% imitate, I do n't know 
what it is. And if they are not a happy people, 
appearances are deceptive, for they always seem so. 
Few of them have They live in hired apart- 
ments, and take their meals at restaurants. It is 
quite common to see whole families walk into a 
restaurant together, and take dinner. The mass 
of the people seem to live out-doors — all classes. 
The public squares, gardens and groves, are thronged 
from morning till night. You will see family groups 
sitting in the shade in those pleasant gardens, chat- 
ting merrily, and doing their work as if they were 
at home. Fathers read the papers, mothers and 
grown-up daughters ply the needle, little girls skip 
the rope, and little boys play ball or fly kites. 
Belles promenade, and young "whiskerandoes" do 
the agreeable. To a stranger it looks like a per- 
petual fete. Babies are never heard to cry here. 

The garden of the Tuileries is a place of general 
resort; is very extensive, and contains many beau- 
tiful fountains, and a great number of statues. A 

46 n A L'S TRAVELS. 

band of fifty instruments plays here almost every 
evening, at government expense, for the edification 
of the people — also at many other places of resort. 
This is one of the means adopted by Louis Na- 
poleon to render the people content, and keep them 
from taking off his head. 

I have not confined my observation alone to the 
French people. There are many strangers here — 
many Americans, but more English. It pays well 
to note their manners. They are a peculiar people 
— the English arc. The}' delight in hating the 
"frog-heating basses," as they call the French, and 
suflfer no opportunity to pass to speak disparagingly 
or contemptuously of tlicm. The French, in turn, 
take pleasure in turning up their noses at the pecu- 
liarities and l)igotry of tlie John Bulls. It is amus- 
ing to hear the English speak of the French and 
^ their institutions. I dropped in at the Grand Hotel 
du Louvre the other evening, and spent a delicious 
half-hour listening to the conversation of a small 
squad of angry Britons. One of them, it seemed, 
had been swindled by a coachman out of ever so 
many sous; was in consequence very wrathy, and 
considered himself licensed to say just what he 
pleased about the entire French nation; and all 
he said was endorsed by his companions. He 
termed them a " 'cathcnish, houtlandish people ; 
hutterly hignorant of the courtesies due a stranger." 
Believed they would, from the Emperor down, 
"cheat the heyes out of a man if they could." 
Tliought it strange they didn't "learn to speak 


Hinglisli." Thouglit tlie French language "'orrible 
gibberish." Met another party in Bois de Boulogne, 
a magnificent woodland park — the finest, perhaps, in 
the world. They acknowledged its beauty, but said 
that "for a display of fine hequipages and haristo- 
cracy, it was hinferior to 'yde Park in London." 
Still another party, at the Jardin des Plantes, con- 
ceded that it was very extensive and beautiful, but 
then "the hanimals were hinferior to those in the 
Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park." As to the 
public buildings of Paris, the}^ were not to be com- 
pared with St. Paul's. Pronounced the French 
cookery "'orrid." From what I have seen and 
heard, I am constrained to believe that the English 
hate (not to say fear) the French with the hatred 
that only the intensely jealous feel. But the French 
turn up their noses, and laugh in their sleeves (they 
are too polite to laugh openly) at the growling 

But with all the bluff bluntness and dogmatical 
bigotry of the English people, and with all their 
scorn and jealousy of every thing not English, I 
shall favor their success (much as I like the French) 
whenever there is a war between them and their 
Gallic neighbors — and that there will be a war be- 
tween them at no distant day I have no doubt. 
Such a war, if declared to-morrow, would be popu- 
lar on both sides the Channel. The reasons why I 
should favor England are obvious. She is our 
mother. Her language is the same, her religion is 


the same, and licr government nearly the same. 
This is more than we can say of any other country 
upon earth ; therefore my cry shall be, " Vice VAn- 

Many of the streets of this city are broad and 
beautiful. The Boulevards, a succession of wide 
streets, are said to be the tinest in the world. One 
of them — the Boulevard des Italiens — is the chief 
thorouii'hfare for fashion and gayety. Here the 
Mrs. Harrises and the Flora McFlimseys most do 
congregate ; and here people ma}' be met every 
day, the worldwide fame of whom would render 
them "lions" anywhere but in Paris. Should one 
of them chance to visit the United States, his 
advent would be heralded by telegraph, from Maine 
to Texas, and the toadies of Kew York would get 
up a demonstration. 

A stranger in Paris, from a Christian country, is 
almost forced to the conclusion that this is a God- 
despising, inlidel people. The workshops, lirpior- 
shops, stores, and all other kinds of work and play 
go on here on Sunday as on other days. Theatres, 
circuses, gambling-hells, and all other places of 
amusement and infamy, are open. The public 
works by the Government and city are carried on. 
In short, Sunday is little regarded by the masses. 

But there is some salt in Paris; some people 
who worship God in the good old way. Found a 
little Methodist chapel, last Sunday, and heard an 
old-fashioned Methodist sermon. It seemed like 



\getting back home ; for both the singing and 
)reaching were such as I have often heard there. 
'!h.e congregation was Enghsh. 

Went to the Opera last night, and witnessed the 
pWformance of Robert le Diable. I was greatly 
pleased with the music, which was the finest I ever 
heArd, I never before heard a hundred voices in 
ehoWs, accompanied by nearly as many instru- 
men\s. The Opera, like every thing else in Paris, 
is on\ a grand scale. They bore with big augers 
here, Wid whatever they undertake to do they do 
with ayim. 

It is \ raining here to-day; a thing much less 
commons in Paris than in London. People, how- 
ever, dont seem to mind it. The streets are pretty 
well thronged. Crinoline is displayed liberall}^ ; 
and ladies' knees are no secret in Paris. Modesty 
is a jewel h^re ; yet it is to be found. 

I have hardly yet become reconciled to the hours of 
serving meals bere : coffee at eight or nine o'clock, 
breakfast at tw^ve, and dinner at six. JS'o two arti- 
cles of food are ^ver served on the same plate. The 
stuff the French call bread, is a libel — a slander 
upon the genuine\article ; almost tough enough to 
draw teeth ; innocent of butter, lard, or salt ; open 
as honeycomb, but yith none of its sweetness, and 
is never used until it is stale. It is bought by the 
yard or foot, to suit |]^urchasers. This is no joke, 
but a stubborn fact, ^he bakers furnish it in rolls 
from a yard to a yard and a half in length, about 


the size of a man's arm. Go into a restaurant, and 
you ma}' see these rolls stacked in one corner of the 
room, one end resting upon the lioor, and the othe: 
against the wall. 

Our party will he divided in a few days. JoVn 
and myself are going into Germany, on the I\hii.e, 
to be there during the vintage, or grape harvest. 
"We are anxious to learn all we can ahout the cilti- 
vation of the grape, and the modus operandi of 
making wine. Arthur and Camp Turner (wto, by 
the way, I had almost forgotten to tell you is of our 
party now — and a valuable accession too) n'ill re- 
main here and pursue their studies till cool -veather, 
when they contemplate uniting with us in Italy. 

If I had time, I would tell you somethingabout our 
visit to Versailles, and o^ the Jif/ccn miles jf paintings 
we saw there, representing all the important battles 
fought by the French nation for fourtJen hundred 
years. The palace covers twenty acr^is of ground, 
and the forest belonging to it six thousand acres ! 

The strong-minded maiden lady — the literary 
female mentioned in a previous letter — is here. ISbc 
is "doing up" Paris with a rush. She goes out at 
all hours of the day, and in all sorts of weather. If 
there be any sights in Paris t^iat she don't liiid, 
they'll hardly be worth looking for. Being of the 
pantaloons order of ladies, s^ie goes it alone. I 
love, honor — yea, reverence — a modest, retiring 
woman ; but from a he woman, good Lord deliver 
me ! 


We go from here first to Brussels, wliere we shall 
spend a week or two perhaps. 

Yonrs, Hal. 

P. S.— Dr. Ford, Miss Hobson, and Miss Elliott, 
ot l!^ashville, are spending a season here. They 
haVe just returned from a tour through Switzerland 
and on the Rhine — one of the most interesting 
tour)s that can he made in Europe. 

52 n A L ' S T R A V E L S . 



In the begininng of tins letter permit me to make 
a few suggestions for the benefit of all Americans 
who ever expect to travel on this continent. I 
advise them, in making their preparations to leave 
home, to lay in a good supply of charity, forbear- 
ance, brotherly kindness, and as much patiem-e Us 
they can conveniently carry. They will find abun- 
dant use for all these graces at every stage of the 
journey — especially the latter. I thought I started 
with a pretty good supply, but it is well-nigh ex- 
liausted. A few more such attacks as I have suf- 
fered since my arrival in the Belgian capital, and I 
shall be "done for." Since my arrival here the 
beggars have stuck to me like the locusts to the 
Egyptians. The "commissionaires," who seek to 
guide nie over the city, I have found harder to shake 
oif than a Xew York hack-driver, or a hanger-on 
about a Niagara Falls hotel. Thus far I have kept 
them at bay. I have to use my stick to keep off the 
dirty-faced beggar children, many of whom carry 
disgustingly besmeared babies in their arms to 
excite compassion. I don't know Avhich prcdomi- 

hal'stkavels. 5S 

,nates. here, the beggars or the black-robed, broad- 
primmed Catholic clergy. The number of each is 
alarming. I am told that their number is corre- 
s|)ondingly great or small in all Catholic countries. 
"Where you find one, the other is sure to be. A 
numerous armed police is always necessary, too, in 
such countries. 

This is the greatest city for bells I have yet found. 
A stranger is apt to think, from the incessant ring- 
ing of ponderous bells, that the town is burning up. 
Even now while I write, between eight and nine 
o'clock at night, the din is distracting. If I make 
any egregious blunders in this letter, you may lay 
the sin to the bells of Brussels, or to the Catholic 

. Speaking of churches, this city is somewhat 
famous for its ancient and costly edifices. There 
are some here many hundreds of years old. I have 
visited some of them, and found them quite interest- 
ing on account of their age, architecture and paint- 
ings. The Church of St. Gudule is the finest 
church in the city, and one of the finest in Europe. 
It is truly magnificent, and I found it interesting to 
wander through and around it for hours. The 
painting of the windows is not surpassed anywhere. 
The internal adornments are elaborate, and quite 
enchanting to all who admire sculpture and paint- 
ings. In this church are deposited what are called 
the miraculous loafers, said to have been stolen from 
the altar at the instio-ation of a sacrileo-ious Jew, and 
subjected to the insults of himself and brethren in 

-64 hal'stravels. 

their synagogues. And this outrageous and diabo- 
lical act is said to have been ooramittod on Good 
Friday^ which of course added to the heinousness 
of the sin. It is said that when these Jewish scof- 
fers stuck their knives in the wafers, jets of blood 
burst forth from the wounds, and that, by a second 
miracle, they were struck senseless. The sinful 
Jews wlio had done this were denounced by one 
who had been converted to Christianity, and were 
seized and put to death by the most cruel treatment, 
having their flesh torn off by hot pincers before they 
were burned to death at the stake. This is said to 
have taken place about the end of the fourteenth 
century. This "triumph of the faith," as it is called 
here, is celebrated once a 3'ear, on the Sunday fal- 
lowing the lifteenth of July, by a solemn procession 
of the clergy, and an exhibition of the identical 
wafers. This is Catholicism in Belgium. You 
may know by this to what degree the intelligence 
of the people rises. That beggars abound here is 
not to be wondered at. 

But with all its superstitions and gullibility, I 
must say that Brussels is a beautiful city. The mod- 
ern part of the city (which my friend Gamble and 
myself have succeeded in exploring without the aid 
of a commissionaire) is decidedly handsome, and 
would not suffer much by a comparison with Paris. 
Indeed, Brussels has been called, and not without 
reason, Paris on a small scale. The streets arc broad 
and straight, while the buildings are magnificent, 
being uniformly four stories high, and nearly all 

hal'stkavels. 65 

of a snowy whiteness — built of stone or brick, stuc- 
coed. The old part of the city is not so handsome. 
The buildings are all fine and good, and the streets 
are kept perfectly clean, but they are very narrow 
most of them, and run in no particular direction. 
'They wind about every way, and I find it the easiest 
thing in the world to get lost among them. It would 
be hard for a snake to put itself into a more awk- 
ward shape than the streets of lower Brussels. 

And, by the way, speaking of these winding 
streets reminds me of a little incident I met with 
to-day. I was threading my waj' along one of them, 
and met two well-dressed ladies, who seemed to be 
w^andering about at random. They were looking up 
at signs, and showed plainly by their actions that they 
were strangers in the city. Being a stranger myself, I 
sympathetically halted near them, when they ap- 
proached me, and one of them asked, " Sir, do you 
speak English ?" Throwing m3'self back as straight 
as a policeman, (for I was glad to hear my native 
language spoken in this modern Babel,) I replied, 
"Madam, I don't speak an}- thing else!" "Then, 
sir," said she, "will you be so kind as to tell ns 
where to find a lace manufactory?" "Madam," 
said I, "I will not tell you, but show you a lace manu- 
factory," which I did in short order. I found them 
to be a couple of English ladies who had wandered 
out from their hotel — ^very polite, and as thankful 
for my assistance as it is in the nature of the Eng- 
lish to be. 

And now, being at the lace manufactory, I will 


tell you something about it. The lace is all made 
by hand, no machinery whatever being used in the 
making of the Brussels lace. Some thread was 
shown me, so fine, that I was told a pound of it was 
worth twelve hundred dollars ! and that when manu- 
factured into lace the pound would be worth nearly 
three times that amount of money ! It was almost 
like a spider's web. The women who make the lace 
labor very hard, and frequently ruin their eyes wliile 
they are yet young. A lace handkerchief worth ten 
dollars requires sixty-five days labor ; other laces 
in the same proportion. This city, as Americans all 
know, is celebrated for its fine laces. Not on]}- the 
figures but the groundwork of Brussels laces are 
made by hand. The proprietor of the establishment 
made desperate efforts to sell me a bill of laces, but 
I resisted the temptation to buy. 

Went out to AVaterloo yesterday, aud spent the 
day wandering about over the old battle-ground. 
Had Sergeant Munday (who was in the battle of 
Waterloo) for a guide. He is an Englishman, and 
of course points out all the interesting parts of the 
field with pride. No man who looks at the ground 
carefully will Avonder at the defeat of the French. 
The English had groat advantage in position. The 
Duke of AVclliiigton had reconnoitred and chosen 
the ground with a view to draw Najioleon into a 
battle there twelve months before the battle was 
fought. In the midst of the field a great mound of 
earth has been thrown up to mark the spot where 
the boucs of the thousands of friends and foes lie 


Iieapecl together. The mound is two hundred feet 
high, and sixteen hundred feet in circumference at 
the base. It is surmounted by the Belgic lion, a 
huge bronze cast, which, with the pedestal it stands 
upon, is forty feet high. This lion is intended as a 
memorial of the Prince of Orange, and to mark the 
spot where he was wounded. 

The church and churchyards of Waterloo village 
are crowded with memorials of English officers. 
They contain about thirty tablets and monuments 
to those who fell. 

Waterloo is twelve miles from Brussels. "Went 
out on a great lumbering stage-coach, crowded in- 
side and out with passengers, all English, except G. 
and myself. Had the good fortune to sit facing two 
prim English spinsters on an outside seat. Took 
them for sisters from the favor. Both had auburn 
hair — intensely auburn — in fact, some people would 
call it red ; thin lips, and fiery, spiteful-looking 
eyes. It would have required more than an ordinary 
amount of courage to have sought information as to 
the age of either of those damsels. Held their 
heads very high, and sat straight as Indians. I tried 
to draw one of them into conversation, but could n't. 
Thought I had succeeded once, when she ventured 
a reply to a remark I made about the extremely hard 
features of the Belgian peasantry. Said she thought 
the "Belgian childring looked rather hinteresting." 
Our confab ended here. I amused myself with 
drumming Yankee Doodle on the footboard, while 


she elevated her head two or three degrees higher, 
and looked dotiaiitly at her male companions. 

Before getting ott' the stage upon reaching the 
battle-ground, we were set upon by a horde of relic- 
venders, who stuck to us as tenaciously as the Brus- 
sels beggars. Ever}'' ragged urchin in the neigh- 
borhood seemed to have a pocket full of bullets, 
buttons, and other relics, said to have been picked 
up on the battle-field. Our guide told us that he 
was sure that enough such relics had been sold there 
to supply a dozen such battles as that of Waterloo. 

The road between Brussels and AYatcrloo is 
thronged with beggars. It is as amusing as it is 
lamentable to see the eagerness with which the chil- 
dren from five to twelve years old run after the 
coach. The oldest of them will follow it for miles 
in a brisk trot, occasionally turning summersaults 
to attract the attention of passengers. Others hump 
themselves, throw back their heads, and with their 
shaggy hair streaming in the wind, and their elbows 
pointing back like the knees of a grasshopper, will 
run for nearly an hour without seeming to tire, 
never taking their eyes oft" the passengers. If they 
get a copper or two, all right ; if not, they don't 
seem disajipointed. 

Now all these things — the manners, customs, fol- 
lies, superstitions, etc., are interesting to me, for my 
object in travelling is to see and learn. I think I 
am getting the lull value of my time, trouble, and 
money. I am learning what books cannot teach. 


Tourists generally go in one beaten track, and their 
wake is so broad that it is difficult to steer clear of 
it, but thus far I have succeeded in doing so. Those 
who write books of travel, or for the newspaper 
press, have a peculiarly easy way of getting up their 
letters and volumes. It is an easy thing to write 
either letters or books. For instance, one of these 
learned and prolific authors will go to a city, and as 
soon as his name is registered at his hotel, he has as 
" commissionaire" engaged, and is on the wing see- 
ing the lions of the place. He runs from church to 
church, from gallery to gallery, and to all the places 
of interest, and thus, in a few hours, he "does" the 
entire city. At night he sits down, and, with the 
assistance of his guide-book and "commissionaire," 
he compiles a huge amount of matter which he 
imagines will be read with greediness by the un- 
travelled, and consequently ignorant public. By 
elaborate plagiarisms from his guide-book, and some 
marvellous legends told him by his guide, he is 
made to appear exceedingly learned and well-read. 
This mode of getting up letters and books of travel 
will account for the great similarity observable in 
such productions. "With a few items gathered from 
their guides, such writers not unfrequently are en- 
abled to enter into a learned discussion of the poli- 
tics of the countries through which they pass. They 
find many things to condemn, but rarely any thing 
to commend in a government. 

Now such is the track followed by most of the 
book and letter writers. I have seen many of them 


since my arrival in Europe. I met one in Paris 
three weeks ago. He is now here, having visited 
more tlian a dozen other cities since leaving Paris. 
He thinks he is collecting material for a first-rate 
book. Bah ! 

Xow as I am travelling for my own edification, 
and not to gather materials fi)r a book, I shall make 
it a point to stop long enough in every important 
city I visit, to learn something about it. 

I have now been in Brussels since Saturday last, 
(five days,) and the beauty of this city has grown 
upon me every day. It is a charming place, and if 
the climate were more temperate, I should be surely 
tempted to remain here through the winter. It is 
the cheapest place to live in I have found in Europe. 
Every thing is cheap except beef and mutton. 
Hotel bills are very moderate. Dry -goods of almost 
every description are astonishingly low. jNIany 
English families live here on account of the cheap- 
ness of living and the advantageous educational 
facilities, but it is said that their presence is grad- 
ually banishing the cheapness they seek. 

I must acknowledge my indebtedness to Gen. E. 
Y. Fair, our Minister to Belgium, for his many 
kindnesses; and also to the charming and highly 
accomplished Mrs. Fair, for her amiable hospitality. 
Alabama may well be proud of the honor of being 
BO well represented at the court of Brussels. 



eal's travels. 61 



My last letter to you was written from the fair 
city of Brussels, which place we left on the 10th 
iust., and I will now proceed to give you a rambling 
account of what I have picked up along the way 
since that time. 

Our first stopping-place was Cologne, a city re- 
nowned both in song and story for many things — 
its antiquity, its churches, its galleries of paintings, 
its antique curiosities, its massive walls, its bridge 
of boats, its castles and towers, its quaint old build- 
ings, its Eau de Cologne, and, more than all, for its 
great Cathedral. Cologne is a city in which every 
one must be interested, especially the antiquarian 
and the architect ; whilst those who are willing to 
be humbugged (and most people like it) will find 
many things to rejoice their hearts, for in barefaced 
humbuggery and brazen impudence, Cologne bears 
off the palm, as will be seen before the conclusion 
of this letter. 

The first great object of attraction in Cologne is 
the Cathedral, a great building, which is visited, of 
course, by every stranger. It is a massive Gothic 


Structure, commenced huudreds of years ago, and 
•which is yet unfinished; and so immense is the 
work, tliat the present generation will hardly see it 
completed, although the work is being vigorously 
prosecuted. It will be the finest, but not tnc largest 
church in the world. It is 511 feet long, 231 feet 
wide, and will be 511 feet high. To finish it, will 
cost $5,000,000. The choir is IGO feet high. In- 
ternally, the cliurch seems to be almost completed, 
and from its size, height, and disposition of pillars, 
arches, chapels, and beautifully colored windows, 
resembles a splendid vision. I attended the cele- 
bration of high mass here on Sunday last. 

This Cathedral, like all other Catholic churches 
in Europe, possesses many wonderful curiosities, 
Bome of which will cliallenge the credulity of the 
most credulous. For instance, we are shown the 
shrine of the Three Kings of Cologne, or jilagi, who 
came from the East with presents for the infant 
Saviour. The bones of these wise men are pre- 
served in a massive silver case. Their names, 
Gaspar, Melchoir, and Baltl^azer, are inscribed 
•upon their skulls in rubies. The bedel who ex- 
hibits these bones asserts roundly that thoy are 
truly and positively the bones of the Magi, and that 
all others who pretend to exhibit them are impos- 
tors. There is also exhibited here a bone of St. 
Matthew ! But the " trump card" of the Cologueans 
is the church of St. Ursula, and the curiosities it 
contains. Here the wonderful things of the city 
are exhibited, and no traveller is permitted to pass 

hal'stravels. 63 

tiirough Cologne without being importuned to visit 
it. Here he is shown the bones of St. Ursula, and 
the skulls of the eleven thousand virgins who were 
her companions. On entering the church, these 
hideous relics meet the eye, beneath, above, and 
&,round ; they are built into the walls, in the ceiling, 
and displayed in glass cases in various parts. The 
saint herself reposes in a coffin behind the great 
altar, while the skulls of a select few of her asso- 
ciates are permitted to remain near her.^ We are 
told, with prodigious seriousness, that this St. Ursula 
was the daughter of an English king, who, with 
eleven thousand virgin followers, made a pilgrimage 
to Rome. On their return, the whole party suffered 
martyrdom at Cologne, at the hands of the barba- 
rian Huns, because they refused to break their vows 
of chastity ! The skulls of the whole 11,000 have 
been preserved. Some of them are pierced with 
bullet holes, which causes some skeptical infidels to 
insinuate that they have been picked up on various 
battle-fields. The true' believers, however, scout 
such an idea. In this church is also one of the ves- 
sels in which the water was turned into wine at the 
marriage in Cana of Galilee. Kow, all these things, 
including a piece of the true cross, and one of the 
identical thorns with which our Saviour was crowned, 
are exhibited with imperturbable gravity, (not to say 
impudence,) and the spectator besought to believe 
that they are truly what they are represented to be. 
To see them costs money, of course, but what seeker 
after knowledge would refuse to pay a few francs to 

G4 H A L ' S T R A V E L S . 

see SO many M'ondcrful relies ! The student of hur 
man nature is richly repaid for liis time and money, 
in witnessing the coolness with which these people 
assert the genuineness of their relics ; while the 
credulous antiquarian views them with an astonish- 
ment only equalled by his delight. The Roman 
Catholics are great judges of human nature. They 
know that the people love to be humbugged, and 
knowing this, they delight in humbugging them. 
The}' lind it a paying business. They have learned 
that the wise man is as susceptible as the fool, and 
will pay his money for being liumbugged with equal 
liberality. Barnum, as a Bishop, Avould be a jewel 
to the Catholic Church. 

But aside from the churches of Cologne and their 
curiosities, I viewed the city with much interest. 
I walked about the narrow streets, looked at the 
moss-covered walls and sharp antique gables, and 
wondered liow many centuries the storms had beat 
upon them — strolled upon the old Roman Avails and 
gazed at the old towers — sauntered upon the quay 
and the bridge of boats, and looked with delight up 
and down the classic Rhine, admiring the curiously 
shaped little steamers as they scudded by. And 
then tlie pooiilc look so odd ! The groat wooden 
shoes, the llaring caps, and the short skirts of the 
peasant women, Avere objects of interest. The 
clumsy Avagons and carriages, the large horses and 
small donkeys, to say notliing of the dogs in har- 
ness, all came in for a share of admiration. 

From what I saAV Avhile there, I Avould say that 


hal'stravels. 65 

the ladies of Cologne were fond of being seen. 
Large numbers were on the streets at all times. 
'Now in some portions of our country, ladies' feet 
are little more than traditionary leg-ends, but not so 
with the Prussian ladies. Their feet are palpable 
facts, not sought to be concealed, but displayed with 
much boldness. Nor are they wanting in size. A 
visitor at Cologne will be struck with these facts. 

I would write a paragraph about the iilthiness of 
the streets and alleys of Cologne, if I could do so 
without following in the footsteps of other writers ; 
but as everybody who writes at all about this city 
gives them a benefit, I shall pass them by. Much 
ink has been shed and many hard things said about 
these streets, and some have been so uncharitable 
as to even abuse them in poetry, which is terrible, 
you know. I^ow I remember to have read once a 
verse or two, by some heartless individual, running 
somewhat thus : 

"In Col'n, that town of monks and bones, 
And pavements fanged with murderous stones, 
And hags and rags and hideous wenches, 
I counted two-and-seventy stenches, 
All well-defined and genuine stinks ! 

The river Rhine, it is well known. 
Doth wash the city of Cologne ; 
But tell me, ye powers divine ! 
What e'er can wash that river Rhine ?" 

It was confidently predicted by the people of , 
Cologne, that the writer of the above wicked lines 
would come to no good end, which proved true; for 

66 ual'stravels. 

not many years after, he Avas suftbcated by tlie 
stench in one of the alleys of that city. Verdict of 
the jury of inquest, "Served him right." 

Eau de Cologne, so renowned all over the "world, 
is pleaded as an oifset to the two-and-seventy 
stenches observable in the city. It is an article of 
considerable commerce. There are upwards of sixty 
manufacturers of the article, and, strange to say, 
more than half of them bear the name of Farina, all 
claiming to be descendants of the original inventor 
of the perfume, whose name was Farina. lie lived 
in 1670. Jean Maria Farina is said to be the right- 
ful heir. Don't know how many of them bear the 
name of Jean Maria. 

But let us leave the perfumed city of Cologne, and 
say a word about Osnabriick — a city of smaller size, 
less note, and less odoriferous, but one which has a 
name and a place in history, and is withal no mean 
city. Osnabriick contains about 15,000 inhabitants, 
and is one of the oldest cities I have seen. It is, I 
believe, the capital of a province of the kingdom of 
Hanover — is a walled, city, situated very prettily in 
a level plain, surrounded on nearly- all sides by high- 
lands, which present a picturesque appearance. 
Friend G. and myself have been here several days, 
enjoying ourselves extensively, having been kindly 
and hospitably entertained in the families of Mr. L, 
and Mrs. II. We shall remember Osnabriick and 
some of its good citizens for many days. ^Ir. L. 
and young Mr. II, have kindly showed us all the 
notable buildings, and other things of interest, in- 


eluding the cturclies, City Hall, and some very fine 
Coffee Houses and Gardens in tlie suburbs. The 
Cathedral and St. Maria's (Lutheran) are the finest 
churches in the city. The City Hall is a castellated 
building, in which the negotiations for the peace of 
"Westphalia were conducted. It contains a curious 
collection of very old plate. In the open space op- 
posite -this Hall stands a bronze statue of Justus 
Moser. An evening or two ago, in company with 
the intelligent Mrs. H. and her accomplished 
daughters, we drove out to the ancient village of 
Iburg, and viewed the venerable castle and palace 
from which the village takes its name. The scenery 
about Iburg cannot be sketched by any thing short 
of a master's pencil ; it would therefore be bad taste 
in me to attempt it. I would, however, say to all 
travellers who pass through Hanover, to visit Iburg, 
and view the surrounding panorama from the 
heights of the Great Timpen. I would also recom- 
mend a visit to Schwitzenhoff, a beautiful place of 
general resort and recreation for all the good people 
of Osnabriick. Also "Little Switzerland." 

Taking the people of Osnabriick for a sample, I 
must say that I am much pleased with the Germans. 
I find them, so far as my acquaintance extends, in- 
telligent, educated, and refined, and also very hospi- 
table. Their great number of places of public resort 
and amusement, shows them to be a very lively, fun- 
loving people ; philosophers who believe in enjoying 
time as it passes. This is all right. I should like 
them more, however, if it were not for their national 

68 ual'stravels. 

and iudividiial disregard of the Sabbath. They do 
not seem to have learned all the Commandmeuts. 

"We shall start to-morrow for Cobleuz ou the 
Rhine, and shall probably make a little trip from 
there up the Moselle river, on which is said to be 
some of the finest scenery in Europe, and where the 
grape is grown to great perfection. Moselle wines 
are celebrated and quite popular. From there we 
will wander on up the Rhine at leisure. AVe wish 
to see the country as it is, and shall therefore take 
our time. It is the object of travellers generalh' to 
travel over as much territory as they can in as short 
a space as possible. But we are content to see less 
and learn more. Adieu. 





When Beavers was a candidate for Congress, in 
1857, lie opened the canvass with a history of the 
Democratic party, which he continued from day to 
day, at his diiferent appointments, until he finished 
it, beginning each day at tlie place he left off the day 
before ; thus giving to each audience its portion, not, 
however, in due season. I shall adopt Beaver's plan in 
this letter, and begin Avhere I left ofi" in my last. That 
was dated Osnabrlick, and it is but proper that you 
should know my wanderings since leaving that city. 
"Well, I left there about a week ago, and have since 
that time been lingering among and drinking in. 
the beauties of the Rhine, gliding upon its peaceful 
bosom, climbing the lofty peaks along its margin, 
exploring the feudal castles and ruined towers 
which crown their craggy heights ; in short, I have 
been bathing and basking amid those classic scenes 
that have been intermingled with my day-dreams 
from early boyhood. The first grand scenery of 
the Rhine begins with the " Seven Mountains," not 
far above the city of Bonn. At Cologne we bought 
tickets and embarked on a steamer for Coblenz ; 


but finding that it would be downright stupidity to 
rush by so much l)eautiful scenery at steamboat 
speed, we debarked at KonigsAvinter, a town just 
opposite the tallest of the " Seven Mountains," and 
have since that time been wandering from place to 
place on foot, which is the only way the Rhine and 
its neighborhood can be properly seen. He who 
travels up or down this glorious river by steamer, 
never stopping, and then boasts of having seen its 
beauties, is a deceived individual. 

At Konigswinter we were met by a swarm of 
commissioners or guides, each of whom professed 
to know every inch of ground and every stone 
upon the Seven Mountains. We succeeded, after a 
struggle, in fighting our way through them just in 
time to be set upon by a horde of muleteers, who 
wanted us to ride up the mountain upon diminu- 
tive donkeys, no larger than billygoats. AVe 
resisted the temptation to ride, notwithstanding 
the red saddles, and, with our staves in our hands, 
started up on foot. It looked like a perilous under- 
taking to reach the pinnacle of the Drachenfels, 
(Dragon Rock,) on the top of which stands, or 
rather seems to hang, a noble old ruin. We reached 
it, however, and the view amply repaid the toil. 
This rock and ruin has been rendered more interest- 
ing by the verses of Byron : 

*' The castlctl crng of Draclicnfels 

Frowns o'er tlie wide nml winding Kliine; 
Whose brcnst of waters broadly swells 
Between the banks which bear the vine; 

hal's travels. 71 

And hills all rich with blossomed trees, 
And fields which promise corn and wine ; 

And scattered cities crowning these, 

Whose far white walls along them shine, 

Have strewed a scene which I should see 

With double joy, wert thou with me. 

"And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes, 

And hands which offer early flowers, 
Walk smiling o'er this Paradise. 

Above, the frequent feudal towers 
Through green leaves lift their walls of gray ; 

And many a rock which steeply towers. 
And noble arch, in proud decay, 

Look o'er this vale of vintage bowers. 
But one thing want these banks of Rhine — 
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine ! 

" The river nobly foams and flows ; 

The charms of this enchanted ground. 
And all its thousand turns, disclose 

Some fresher beauty varying round. 
The haughtiest breast its wish might bound 

Through life to dwell delighted here : 
Nor could on earth a spot be found 

To nature and to me so dear. 
Could thy dear eyes, in following mine. 
Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine." 

From the heights of Drachenfels I counted twelve 
cities and towns in plain view, besides a number of 
ruined castles on other points along the river. 

"We descended about sundown, and slept at our 
inn at Konigswinter. In the morning we shouldered 
our carpet-bags, crossed the river, and took our 
way along the high road towards the village of 
Rolandseck, above which, on the heights, stands 

72 n AL S TR AVE LS. 

the ruin of the ancient baronial ibrtress and tower 
of Rolantlseck. There is a little romantic story 
connected with this ruin. It receives its name from 
a tradition that the famous Roland, nephew of 
Charlemagne, chose this spot because it commanded 
a view of the convent of Nonnenworth, (which con- 
vent still stands on an island in the river, just oppo- 
site,) within whose walls his betrothed bride had 
taken the vail, npon hearing a false report of his 
having fallen in battle. He lived here a lonely 
hermit for many years, which has furnished the 
subject of one of Schiller's most beautiful ballads, 
"The Knight of Toggenburg." The scene, how- 
ever, has been transferred by Schiller from the 
Rhine to Switzerland. So says Murray. 

After climbing to this height, and viewing the 
grand scenery from many points, we again de- 
scended, and took the highway for the town of 
Ramagcn, in the course of which we met with an 
adventure not to be forgotten. (I had forgotten to 
mention that there arc now three in our party, 
instead of but two, young Mr. Ilollenberg having 
accompanied ns from Osnabriick. lie speaks both 
German and English, and is quite an agreeable 
travelling companion.) The road runs immediately 
through vineyards nearly the whole wa}-. The 
vines bend beneath the weight of a heavy crop, 
and, as there are no fences in this country, the 
luscious clusters hang temptingly over the road. 
We liailed this sight with a gladness similar to that 
of the spies who entered the promised laud. See- 


ing so many hundreds of acres of the blushing 
fruit, and deeming it nothing amiss, we, with that 
innocence peculiar to ignorance, began to pluck 
and eat. A long, gangling, blue-sliirted fellow, 
standing in the road some hundred yards ahead of 
us, raised his long bony arm ominously, and uttered 
a horrible sentence, in which our friend H. detected 
the word "police." He then called some half 
dozen laborers, near by, and with them started for 
the village of Oberwinter, (I shall always remember 
the name,) lying just ahead of us. We followed 
on very slowly, feeling assured that something was 
going to happen. When we entered the village we 
saw heads projected from every window, and know- 
ing winks and nods were passed from neighbor to 
neighbor as we threaded the narrow streets. Young 
women laughed at us, and the old women looked at 
us -with, a sort of pitying expression, while the 
crowd of boys trudging at our heels momentarily 
swelled and grew larger. It was evident that every- 
body in Oberwinter knew that we were in a scrape. 
Even the dogs barked at us. At the far end of the 
village we saw a crowd collected, in the midst of 
which stood the blue-shirted individual, with his 
arms going like winding-blades. His gestures in- 
dicated that we were the subject of his discourse. 
We trudged on, and, upon reaching the crowd, 
were surrounded by the rabble, and informed that 
we must go before the burgomaster of the town, to 
answer to the charge of stealing grapes. The 
tongue of the informant was going like a bell- 

74 hal'stravels. 

clapper, and the ■witnesses who had accompanied 
him were scarcely loss noisy. The burgomaster 
was present, and, in a very loud tone, gave us to 
understand that we had committed a very grave 
offence ; that he was a man of great authority, and 
that we should feel the weight of his power. We 
followed him into his tilth}' office — a small room 
redolent of lager- beer and tobacco smoke. lie 
opened a ponderous book, and proceeded to read 
the law, which was all "Dutch" to us. Then, with 
his rusty spectacles thrown back, he proceeded to 
deliver a loud harangue, while his arms swayed to 
and fro like the sails of a wind-mill. Told us we 
must go to prison ; to which we dissented most 
empliatically ; and my friend John was about be- 
ginning to give the old skunk a lesson in civility 
with the butt end of his cane, and I felt inclined to 
give the leading witness a similar lesson, when 
friend Ilollenberg quieted the clamor by producing 
his purse, and asking how much money it would 
take to get us off. The eyes of the belligerent 
magistrate brightened, and smiles took the i)lace 
of frowns. But for all his smiles, John thought a 
cudgelling due him, wliich he wcnild have ]»ro- 
ceeded to administer, had I not persuailed him that 
discretion was the better part of valor ; which to 
me was evident, when I looked at the crowd 
of big, greasy, bloused i'russians standing round. 
The burgomaster told us if we would pay a good 
round sum of money, (which amount would go for 
the benefit of the poor,) we should be released. I 

hal's travels. 75 

supposed we sliould have to pay ten or fifteen 
dollars apiece, and was prepared to disburse to that 
extent ; but Hollenberg knew his countrymen better 
than I did, and offered him half a thaler, (about 
thirty-seven and a half cents ;) which he disdain- 
fully refused. He then offered him a thaler, and 
told him we would give no more. He took it, and 
we shook the dust from our feet, and departed. As 
we left the office, a friend said to us, (I know he 
was a friend, from a remark he made,) " Go, gen- 
tlemen, and sin no more." This was the interpre- 
tation given to the remark b}'' H. I have made up 
my mind as to one thing : if ever I catch that bur- 
gomaster, or either of the half dozen Moused wit- 
nesses, in the streets of Huntsville, I'll — I'll — but 
there's no use saying what I'll do, for it is danger- 
ous to make threats ; but I '11 make them sorry they 
ever saw a bunch of grapes. 

' Leaving Oberwinter, we soon reached the town of 
Ramagen, an old town in which are traces of Ko- 
man architecture, dating back to the year 375. Re- 
mained at Ramagen all night, and the next day 
made an excursion up the winding valley of Ayr, 
down which the crystal waters of the little river Ayr 
flow beautifully. The scenery up this valley is pic- 
turesque beyond description. "We ascended about 
fourteen miles to the towns of Ahrweiler and Alte- 
nah. Kear the latter place is a very high peak of 
the mountain, on the top of which stands a majestic 
old ruin, the history of which I could not learn, ex- 
cept that it was built by a robber chief many hun- 

76 hal'stravels. 

dred years ago. While standi up; upon tlie tallest 
pinnacle, a gust of wind took my hat ott", and I have 
not seen it since. Not wishing to return to Rama- 
gen bareheaded, I took a large comforter ■which re- 
sembled two or three yards of fancy carpeting, and 
wound it around my head, a la Turk. I was the 
admiration of the rustics all along the road to Kama- 
gen, and in the village of Ahrweiler nearly the whole 
town gathered to sec me, and a crowd of little boys 
followed me for some distance beyond the wall. 
Some said " Turko," and others said " Zouave.'' I 
enjoyed the fun very much. 

After returning from the Ayr (or Ahr) valley, 
which, by the way, is Avorld-rcnowiied for its vine- 
yards, we took boat and procoodcd up to Brohl, 
(one or two hours' run,) from whirli point we walked 
to Laacher Sea, where we now are. This is a very 
singular lake, nearly circular in form, supposed to 
occupy the crater of an extinct volcano, is about 
two miles long, and one and a half miles wide, and 
very deep. The appearance of a deep bine lake 
liemmed in on all sides by a ridge of hills completely 
covered with luxuriant wood down to the water's 
edge is exceedingly beautiful, as well as singular. 
At one end of this lake, cinl>owcrcd in a forest of 
large trees, rises a grand old Abbev, Avith five im- 
mense towers, built about scvrn hundred years ago. 
The Abbey, with the many buildings attached to it, 
is enclosed with a massive stone wall. This is not 
used for church ]>urposes now, but is ]>rivate i)ru- 
perty ; and many of the halls once occupied by nuns 


and monks are now used for granaries and cow- 
stalls. One of the buildings is an inn, in which I 
now write. 

I must now go to bed, for John and Benno have 
been snoring this hour. Yours, etc., 


P. S. — "We have passed through many vineyards 
since our interview with the burgomaster of Ober- 
winter, but thinking the grapes " sour," we troubled 
them not. 

78 n A l'S TRAVELS. 




"While "taking mine ease at mine inn,"' ami 
smoking my fair long })ipc, I will scribble you a lew 
items picked up along the way since ni}' last letter. 

By glancing at the map, you will see that I am 
many hundreds of miles away from the plaee from 
which I last addressed you. I was then lolling upon 
the lair shores of the pretty little Laachar Sea, away 
up in Prussia. Since then I have visited many 
places. Have wandered upon the "banks of the 
blue ^loselle ;" clambered among the ruins of the 
old "Mouse Castle;" stood upon the heights of the 
great Neiderwald ; have tarried at " Bingen on the 
Rhine;" have roved through the celebrated vine- 
yards of Johannisberg; groped through the world- 
renowned wine-cellars of Rndesheim ; lingered in 
the groves and around the hot springs of Ems aij^d 
AV^eisbaden; strolled through the streets and gardens 
of llic beautiful <ity of Erankfort-on-the-Main ; 
have struggled w\) the high mountains and gazed 
upon the ruitu'd castles of Heidelberg; have looked 
and wondered at the great tower of the Strasburg 
Cathedral ; have traversed the romantic hills and 
valleys of Switzerland; stood upon "the margin of 


fair Zuricli's waters;" walked "beneath the dark 
shadows of the Jura Mountains, and gazed with awe 
at the snow-crowned, cloud-capped peaks of the 
terrible Alps ; have sailed upon the limpid waters 
of the lakes of Bienne, ISTeufchatel, and Geneva ; 
have been charmed with the beauties of the " ar- 
rowy Rhone," and now find myself quietly nestled 
down in the quiet city of Geneva, long noted for 
its beauty, the taste of its people, and as the place 
where they make watches. Geneva is one of the 
most beautiful cities I have seen, situated at the 
west end of the lake of the same name — a noble 
sheet of water which no European traveller fails to 
see, and which has been rendered classic by the his- 
torian, the romance writer, and the poet. It seems 
that the beauties of this lake well-nigh made a vir- 
tuous man of Lord Byron, judging by the following 
lines penned by that illustrious poet : 

"Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, 
With the -wild world I dwelt in, is a thing 
Which warns me, with its stilkiess, to forsake 
Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. 
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing 
To waft me from distraction ; once I loved 
Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring 
Sounds sweet, as if a sister's voice reproved, 
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved." 

Thus was the great poet moved to write upon 
viewing this lake when calm and peaceful. Later 
he was nigh being lost in a storm, while making an 
excursion on the lake, when he wrote as follows : 


" The sky is changed ! and sucli ;i change I night, 
And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
Yet lovel}' in your strength as is the light 
Of a dark eye in ■woman ! Far along, 
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, 
Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
But every mountain now hath found a tongue, 
And Jura answers through her misty shroud, 
Back to the joyous Alps who call to her aloud! 

How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, 

And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! 

And now again 'tis black — and now the glee 

Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, 

As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth." 

I liave been now two days in Geneva, charmed 
and delighted witli tlio rugg6d scenery which pre- 
sents itself on every hand. The black, steep Jura 
mountains stretch themselves all along the northern 
Rhore of the lake. To the south rise the noble Alps, 
and away in the distance is seen the gigantic iSIont 
]>]anc, with its snow and glaciers glistening in the 
sun. I shall not be content until I have a nearer 
view of this giant of mountains. 

If I had not begun this with a determination to 
write a very short letter, I Avould tell you a great 
deal about what I have seen within the last week or 
two, but as I don't wish to bore you or your readers 
very deep, I will refrain ; for it would be as a thrice- 
told tale, as every nincom})oop who travels over the 
route, if he can write at all, must needs atteippt a 
description. I refer you to various books of travel, 
where you will lind all that I could say. 


I have been mucli interested in the vintage, and' 
have learned what I could about the process of cul- 
tivating the grape and making wine. It is interest- 
ing to see the Swiss peasantry gathering the grapes. 
They make a frolic of it, and sing with great glee 
as they perform their labor. They are liard-lookiDg 
creatures, both male and female, the latter coarse to 
an astonishing degree. It is romantic to talk and 
write about the hardy and frugal Swiss peasantry, 
and to see them at a distance is very well ; but when 
you come in contact with them, the poetry vanishes. 
I have not yet seen a handsome or even passable 
face among the female peasants — though it is said 
they are virtuous and happy. I doubt not there 
is rustic virtue among them — a vast deal of it — but 
they are certainly a most filthy people. They labor 
in the fields much harder than the negroes of the 
South, and every woman among them can carry a 
load upon her head that would make an ordinaiy 
mule stagger. They live like hogs — men, women, 
children, horses, cows and goats, all under the same 

But I must close this brief scroll. John, who has 
just come in, (he has been out to buy us some to- 
bacco,) says it is time to go to bed. We start for 
Italy to-morrow. Shall cross the Alps by waj of 
the Simplon Pass. Shall have plenty of company. 
The flat-bosomed lady, who is gathering notes for a 
book, will proba'bly be in the party — also the bandy- 
legged gentleman who wears gold spectacles, of 
whom I intended to tell you, but sha'n't do it now. 

82 hal'stravels. 

Friend Robinson Las declined going to Italy, pre- 
ferring to return home, and will probably go by the 
steamer that carries this letter, or soon after. He 
saj's he is tired of Europe. I regret his determina- 
tion much, for he is a noble travelling companion, 
and I had hoped to spend the Avinter with him be- 
neath the "fair Italian skies." Had also hoped to 
have friend Turner with us, (who is as clever as 
boys ever get to be,) but fear we shall not. Don't 
know what his plans are. He is in Paris. 

Farewell. Hal. 




I AM at length in Italy — fair, bright, beautiful, 
sunny Italy ! — the land of poetry and popery — of 
song and sausages — music and maccaroni — of 
orange-groves and organ-grinders — of roses and 
rogues — of soldiers and sardines — of minstrels and 
monkeys — of fat, round-bellied priests, and lean, 
gaunt, starving beggars — in short, the land where 
pleasure and misery jostle each other in the streets, 
and often go hand in hand. Such is Italy, aud 
such are the strange blending of things here. The 
Italian towns are all strangely marked; houses with 
colonnades, streets with awnings, shops teeming 
with sausages, maccaroni and garlic ; lazy-looking, 
loitering lazzaroni, in red nightcaps, and bare maho- 
gany-colored legs, intermixed with mules, burly 
priests, organ-grinders, and females veiled with the 
black mantilla : these things fill up the picture of 
an Italian town, poets and romance-writers to the 
contrary notwithstanding. 

But Milan is a fine city, and, to say nothing of its 
people and their habits, is a city that any country 
might be proud of. I have been on the pad all day, 

84 n A L'S TRAVELS. 

seeing its beauties and lions. Tlie first place of in-~ 
terest, and which has been termed, not inappropri- 
ately, perhaps, the eighth -wonder of the world, is 
the great Cathedral, the finest building, no doubt, 
in the world, but not so large as ISt. Peter's at Home 
or St. Paul's, London. It is built of pure white 
marble, is four hundred and ninety-one feet long, 
three hundred and thirty-six feet high. There are 
ten thousand spires and pinnacles on this church, and 
seven thousand of them are surmounted with statues, 
and the other three thousand will be when the work 
is finished, which will require at least a century. It 
was commenced four hundred and seventy- three 
years ago. The interior is adorned with man}- line 
paintings. The massive windows are of the finest 
stained glass, representing thousands of Scripture 
scenes. The scene from the top of the Milan Ca- 
thedral can certainly not be surpassed in the world. 
The spires of perhaps a hundred towns and cities 
may be seen, while in the far-off distance may be 
seen the snowy chain of the Alps. Mount Rosa 
looms up more grandly than any other peak, 
although Mont Blanc is plainly seen : the former is 
one hundred and twentj'-tive miles away, and the 
latter two hundred and twenty. 

Among the other things of interest I have visited 
in Milan, I may mention the Amphitheatre, (now 
filled with French artillery,) which is capable of 
seating thirty-seven thousand people ! Uerc all the 
fvfcs of a national character are performed. Also 
went to see the great original painting of the "Last 


Supper," by Leonardo Da Vinci. It is a fresco, in 
what was formerly the Convent of Le Grazie, but is 
now used as a barracks for soldiers. The world is 
flooded with copies of this celebrated painting, 
which is a proof of its excellence. 

I have visited many other places of interest in the 
city, but it would be a bore to you for me to dwell 
on them. In fact, I have no disposition to dwell on 
them now, for I am becoming bored seriously with 
Milan, not less than six street organs having been 
furiously grinding near by ever since I commenced 
this letter. I am fond of music, but too much of a 
good thing is not pleasant. 

But perhaps I ought to tell you something about 
our trip from Geneva to this city. I will do it for 
the want of something else to write about, although, 
like nine out of every ten who attempt to do so, I 
have no "knack" of describing scenery. 

To begin : "We left Geneva on the morning of the 
ninth, just as the god of day rolled proudly and 
sublimely up above the snowy mountains of the 
east. The sky was clear, serene and lovely. 'Not a 
breath of wind disturbed the placid bosom of the 
silvery lake which reflected the deep shadows of the 
black Jura on one side, and the towering Alps on 
the other. Our feathery craft glided swiftly and 
gracefully over the still waters like a thing of life, 
and nothing was there to jar upon the senses save a 
slight hissing of steam and the flutter of the paddle- 
wheels, and even that seemed musical. The snowy 
villages along the shore were as lilies nestling upon 


the bosom of the ^vaters, while far away in the dis- 
tance eoukl be seen the beautiful city of Vevay, with 
its tall spires reflected beautifully in the deep blue 
lake. Our captain stood leaning lazily upon the 
quarter- rail, smoking his pipe, while passengers 
stood in mute wonder at the glorious scenery loom- 
ing up on every hand. Flocks of happy waterfowl 
were skimmiug about in various directions, and 
anon the nimble trout could be seen to spring high 
out of the water to seize the unsuspecting butterfly 
as it dallied above the ripple. All on board that 
little steamer seemed wrapped in meditation. Your 
correspondent was in a peculiar mood — bordering 
on poetry — and had actually got two lines fully com- 
posed, when his meditations were cruelly broken in 
upon by the literar}- young lady with the scanty 
breastworks, (mentioned in former letters,) who 
came up and said, "Why, Mr. Hal, what is the 
matter with you ? You are as solemn as if you were 
going to a funeral. Do rouse yourself and come 
forward, and see what a thumpin' big iish a sailor 
has caught. Come, it's in a tub of water in the 
forward part of the boat."' The itoetry fled, and up 
to this time I have not been able to whistle it back. 
I went and saw the fish, of course. 

But to go on with the story. We left the steamer 
at a town callod liouvoret, (pronounced Bouvc/v/y, 
for yon know the French take a sort of malicious 
pleasure in pronouncing things diflerently from the 
way they 8j>ell them,) at the east end of the lake, 
took the cars and travelled through the mountain- 


gorges for about twenty miles, where the railway 
ceases. Here we took diligence, and continued the 
journey up the valley of the river Rhone, until 
about two o'clock at night, halting at the town of 
Breig, just where the ascent of the Alps begins. 
All along the route from Geneva to Breig we noticed 
that the people were idle, and dressed up in their 
Sunday clothes. We concluded that the ninth of 
October must be a general Swiss holiday. 

At Breig we stopped on the 10th, for we have 
made it a rule, ever since leaving home, to rest on 
the Sabbath. Were greatly shocked to see the 
people of Breig attending to all the ordinary affairs 
of life, seeming to care no more for the Sabbath 
than if they had never known such a day. The 
smith's hammer, the mason's trowel, and the car- 
penter's saw were heard, while the mowers in the 
neighborhood were busy gathering in their scanty 
crops of hay. The stores and shops were all open, 
and the peasant women were lugging their great 
burdens about as usual. The churches were there, 
but no glad bell was heard calling the people to 
worship, John and I read our Bibles, and deeply 
commiserated the poor ignorant people, believing 
that they were ignorant of the holiness of the day. 
Late in the afternoon John concluded to look over 
his diary, in doing which he discovered to his amaze- 
ment that we were keeping Monday, and had actually 
travelled all day Sunday ! We could then account 
for the Swiss holiday. 

Tuesday morning we took the diligence, and 


started up the moimtain, the Simplon Pass. Tliis 
is the best mountain road ever built. It is a tri- 
umph of engineering skill never accomplished before 
nor since. The world is indebted to Napoleon 
Bonaparte for it, who, remembering the great dith- 
cultj he found in crossing the Alps, determined to 
make a highway that cannon could be carried over 
without ditiiculty. It is a stupendous work, the 
greatness of which cannot be appreciated without 
being seen. It winds up the mountain in such a 
tortuous and zigzag way, that even where it is 
steepest, it does not rise more than one foot in thir- 
teen. The cost of this road averaged about ^2"),000 
per mile. It took six years to build it, and more 
than thirty thousand men were employed on it at 
one time. Houses of refuge — seven in number — 
arc erected at convenient distances, to protect tra- 
vellers from avalanches, which occur frequently in 
early summer. For more than two-thirds of the 
way up, the sides of the mountain are covered with 
vegetation, and wherever a dozen yards of arable 
land can be found, there is the hut of the hardy 
mountaineer. In some places the cabins seem to 
cling to the sides of the mountain as tenaciously as 
a bat clings to the wall of a cavern. After gaining 
two-thirds or more of the ascent, nothing but a pic- 
ture of desolation surrounds the traveller. The pine 
has no longer the scanty jnttance of soil which it 
requires for nourishment, the hardy buf beautiful 
Alpine ilower ceases to eml)cHish the sterile soli- 
tude. The eye wanders over snow and glacier, 

hal'stravels. 89 

fractured rock and roaring cataract, relieved only by 
that stupendous monument of human labor, the 
road itself, winding along the edges of precipices, 
penetrating the solid granite, striding over the furi- 
ous torrents, burrowing through dark and dripping 
grottoes, beneath accumulated masses of ice and 

Upon reaching the highest summit or culminat- 
ing point of the Pass, I made a vigorous effort to 
work myself up into a poetical mood. Thought of 
all the romance I had read about crossing the 
"proud Alps." Jumped up on a large rock, waved 
my hat above my head, gazed at the country below 
and the eternal glaciers above ; threw my shawl 
about me, and imagined that it looked very much 
like Julius Csesar's mantle ; and while it waved in 
the breeze, and my hair streamed in the wind, I 
looked away down the acclivity and saw far down 
in the distance a great lumbering diligence with its 
long team crawling around a point of the mountain. 
I thought it looked like a huge ant winding round 
a potato-hill. The idea was so ridiculous that I in- 
voluntarily burst into a laugh, which banished ro- 
mance. Just then I was enveloped in a passing 
cloud, and a few spits of snow and sleet together, 
with the piercing cold wind, warned me that I was 
exposing myself, when I muffled up, and crawled 
into the diligence. 

We descended the mountain in a sweeping trot, 
and slejDt that night in Domo d'Ossolo, Italy. The 
next day went by diligence to Palanza on Lake 

90 11 A L ' S T 11 A V E L S . 

Maggiore, "wlierc we took steamer to Arona, and 
fiuished the trip to Milan by railroad. Aronld tell 
you something about the beauties of Lake Maggiore, 
but these miserable hand-organs have put my head 
to aching, so I'll quit and go to bed. Good-night. 

p. s. — "We go to Venice to-morrow. If you find 
this letter bunglingly got up, just laj- it to the organ- 
grinders, for they have kept up a most horrible 

hal'stravels. 91 



At last in Yenice ! — "Beautiful Venice, the bride 
of tlie sea" — a city fair to look upon, and as strange 
as it is fair. Here the houses are palaces, the streets 
are canals, and the omnibusses, hacks, and pleasure 
carriages are gondolas. Dwelling in "marble halls" 
is not a "dream" here, but a reality. The Hotel 
Yittoria, where we stop, was in olden times a marble 
palace of great splendor; but now, like many other 
palaces in Yenice, it looks seedy. Indeed, the 
whole city wears what may be termed a shabby- 
genteel appearance, though it bears evidences of 
having once been one of the richest and most mag- 
nificent cities of the world. It is beautiful yet, but 
cities, like belles, must fade before time. 

Every thing is so strange, so quiet here. The 
loudest noise heard is man's voice ; no lumbering 
drays or wagons in the streets — no clattering car- 
riages, nor tramp of horse. There be grown-up 
men and women too, perhaps, who never saw a 
horse or wheeled carriage of any description ! for 
such things are not here. Gondolas take their 

I love dearly to skim about in the graceful gon- 

92 n A L ' S T R A V E L S . 

dola. There is poetry about it, especially on a 
moonlight night. Though I suspect the race of 
gondoliers is degenerating. When Lord Byron 
lived here they used to sing as they plied the oar, 
and we read that he caught the inspiration, and 
upon one occasion wrote as follows : 

"'Tis SYTcet to bear 
At midnight, on the blue and moonlit deep, 
The song and oar of Adria's gondolier. 
By distance mellowed, o'er the waters sweep." 

These gondoliers don't sing any more. I have 
listened for one of their songs ever since my arrival 
here;- but have heard "nary" song. 

The Grand Canal is to Venice what Broadway is 
t^ Xew/'Tork — the great thoroughfare. I have 
spent fnuch time in gliding up and down this canal, 
gazing at the great and gorgeous palaces, wonder- 
stricken, with eyes stretched to a size little less than 
tea-cups. And then the flashing eyes that beam 
and sparkle from the palace windows, and the 
graceful forms that lean from the balconies, set my 
lieart all a-flutter. I imagine that Jessica, the fixir 
Jewess, looked as they look, when watching for her 
Lorenzo; (believe that's the name of the fellow who 
stole old Shylock's daughter.) 

And I have stood upon the Rialto, the splendid 
arch that spans t^is Grand Canal. Hard b}' it is the 
Exchange, (it is a market now for lishcs,) where 
'Antonio and Shylock were wont in former times 
to talk of trade and commerce, and where Antonio 
spat upon the Jew's gabardine, and call©i|him 

iiBiiMtim ' 


\ I 


I I 

, , A 


"dog;" and it was there, or thereabout, the bond 
was sealed for the pound of flesh. Some of the 
Shylock family are said to be still found in the 
neighborhood. The Rialto is a specimen of archi- 
tecture never surpassed, either in ancient or in 
modern times. l^Tumerous little shops for the sale 
of bogus jewelry, cheap goods, and worthless 
trinkets, are now upon this bridge. 

St. Mark's Square is the centre of attraction in 
Venice. It is an open space of several acres, paved 
with marble slabs, and surrounded with buildings 
of great magnificence. These houses are occupied 
as splendid shops and brilliant cafes, with colonnades. 
It is a place of general resort, and bands of music 
often play in it. The elite of the city, and strangers 
innumerable, may always be found in St. Mark's 
Square. In front of the cafes, people of all nations 
under the sun may be seen sipping their punch, 
their wine, or their coiFee — playing cards, dominoes, 
or chess. 

On one side of this square stands St. Mark's 
Cathedral, one of the most quaint as well as most 
magnificent buildings in the world. It would fill 
many pages to give any thing approaching a descrip- 
tion of this ancient structure, so I shall not attempt 
it. E"early the whole of the interior is mosaic of 
the finest kind, representing many sacred scenes. 
The four gilded bronze horses, stolen, I believe, by 
the Venetians from Constantinople, stand above the 
grand portal of this church. The Doge's palace, of 
which structure everybody has read something, is 


connected with tliis cathedral. In architecture it is 
a masterpiece, and very hirge. I luive wandered 
through it, and looked at almost acres of paintings, 
many of them by Titian, Tintoretto, and other old 
masters. Titian was a Venetian. Was also con- 
ducted through the gloomy prisons of this palace, 
where many noble, wise, and good men have pined 
their lives away. Also crossed the Bridge of Sighs, 
leading from the palace prison to another prison 
more gloomy still, and from which no prisoner ever 
returned who entered it by way of this fatal bridge. 
The prison is separated from the palace b}- a canal, 
across which the Bridge of Sighs is suspended, some 
twenty feet above the water. 

A part of the Palazzo San Marco, or St. Mark's 
Square, opens upon the ba}*, where two magnificent 
granite columns stand, one of which is crowned 
with a winged-lion, called St. Mark's lion ; (St! Mark 
is the patron saint of Venice, and every thing im- 
portant must be called after him.) The story of 
these columns is this: They were pillaged from 
some other city, (don't remember what city,) and 
brought to Venice many centuries a'go, but so great 
"was their size that no man could be found who 
would undertake to elevate them upon their pedes- 
tals. Alter they had lain for a great many years 
upon the ground, a celebrated gambler of the city 
proposed to the Doge that he would raise and place 
them upon their pedestals, upon tlio condition ih-^t 
lie and liis friends should ever after have the privi- 
lege of gambling between them, without being in- 


terferecl wifh by the law. This was granted by the 
Doge, although gambling was prohibited in all 
other parts of Venice, and severely punished by the 
law. The columns were elevated on this condition, 
but in the course of time the space between them 
became such a resort for gamblers and desperate 
characters, that the civil authorities found it abso- 
lutely necessary to do something to suppress the 
scenes there enacted. They could only do it by 
decreeing that all public executions should take 
place on the same spot. This broke up the gam- 

We have now been in Venice four days, and have 
visited a great many churches, palaces, asylums, 
etc., and have looked at and admired paintings by 
the acre, and statues innumerable. 

It would not take me long to tire of Venice ; 
every thing is so silent and monotonous. I want to 
be where I can see hills and mountains, and look 
upon running water. John is already satisfied with 

We came through from Milan by rail, passing 
through Verona, Padua, etc., the former of which 
is rendered immortal by Shakspeare, as the scene 
where figured Eomeo and Juliet. The tomb of the 
fair Juliet is still pointed out to travellers. Verona 
is also celebrated on account of its great Roman 
amphitheatre, second only to the Coliseum at 
E,ome. Padua is also very ancient, and is also the 
place in which some of Shakspeare's characters 
figured. It is the place of Livy's birth and resid- 


ence. Giotti, the great painter, also lived there, and 
his paintings adorn many of the old ihurehes now. 
We go from here to Florence, by Avay of Padua, 
Eove2:o, Ferrara, Bolog^ua, etc. Adieu. 

" Hal. 



LETTER 511. 


After a vast deal of trouble and vexation by the 
way, I am at length in the classic city of Florence, 
the centre of art in Europe, and very near the centre 
of poor bleeding Italy. And being snugly housed 
in my new quarters, I cannot better spend an hour 
perhaps than in scribbling you a few lines. 

But what shall I write about ? I could write col- 
umns of doleful twaddle about the torn and dis- 
tracted condition of the Italian States. I could get 
up a most solemn article about the poor down-trod- 
den Italians, who writhe beneath the iron heel of 
Popery. I might write pages of dreary nonsense 
about the black and threatening war-cloud that is now 
hanging over the whole of Europe, or get up a read- 
able article about the attitude of France and Eng- 
land, who now stand eyeing each other like two 
furious ram-cats upon the point of a most disastrous 
clapper-clawing. Or I might scribble long and loud 
about England and the United States, the San Juan 
difficulty, and our success in the Celestial Empire, 
and the discomfiture of the British at the mouth of 
the Peiho. Again, I might write a stirring appeal 


to tlic world ill behalf of the Italian patriots who 
followed the lead of Victor Emanuel and Garibaldi, 
and loom extensively a^-ainst the bloody-minded 
Pope, and tyrannieal Austria. I say, I might spread 
myself on an}- or all of these subjects, but what 
would it all amount to ? The light that I could 
throw upon any of them would be so iufinitesimally 
small, that a glass magnifying a thousand times 
would be required to see it. So I shall pass them 
all by, and endeavor to pen what you may term an 
" anti-blue-devil" document ; for I hold that he who 
dispels one vapor from the mental sky of his read- 
ers, does more good sometimes than he who con- 
vulses nations. Nonsense is a good thing in its 
place — better on some occasions than volumes of 
learned lore. 

"A little nonsense now and then 
Is rclisheil by the wisest men." 

So I say. Paradoxical as it may seem, nonsense is 
sometimes the best of sense — old fogies and long- 
faced Solons to the contrary notwithstanding. 

I am no grumbler. I call upon you to bear me 
witness that in all that I have written during my 
travels, I have never written one line in agruml)ling 
spirit. Travellers, you know, arc almost universally 
grumblers. It is their right, and, as they pay for the 
privilege, they love to enjoy it. Ilotel- keepers, 
waiters, and servants generally come in for their 
share of censure, while the public conveyances and 
their conductors are almost universally inveighed 

hal's travels. 101 

against. The English traveller (and his name is 
legion) never finds any thing on the Continent like 
it is at " 'ome," hence he is in a grumbling mood all 
the time. It has been a source of some amusement 
to me to watch and listen to some of these people. 
Still, I must say, John Bull is a good fellow at bot- 
tom, and I trust the da}^ will never come when we 
shall be at daggers-points with him ; although I go 
in for our Grovernment holding on to the San Juan Is- 
land, even to the bitter end, daggers or no daggers. 

But, as I said above, I am no grumbler, but one 
of the best-natured individuals in the world — a model 
of patience, a paragon of submissiveness ; in fact, a 
second Mrs. Caudle, who, you know, declared on 
divers occasions that she was " the patientest thing 
alive." If it were not so, I should have been in a 
perfect stew for the last five days. To have under- 
gone what I have in that time would have made 
Socrates (who was reputed to be a man of great 
patience) tear his hair and gnash his teeth in very 
wrath, and Job would possibly have cursed outright, 
while Samson would have overturned mountains in 
his anger. Yet I did none of these wicked things. 
I will give you an outline of the grievances that be- 
set me by the way from Venice to this city. 

It was a dull cloudy morning that John and my- 
self took our departure from the beautiful " city of 
the sea." Upon arriving at the railway-station, our 
carpet-bags were taken charge of by an Austrian 
custom-house officer, who, upon our noncompliance 
with the general custom of slipping a few francs 

102 iial's travels. 

iuto liis hand as o bribe, proceeded to search them 
most thoroughly, tearing our clothes out, unrolling 
them, peeping into every hole and corner, leaving 
them scattered in the most promiscuous manner. 
In the search he fouud in each of our carpet-bags a 
small roll of Turkish tobacco. Upon this discovery 
his eyes glistened with fiendish delight, and grin- 
ning horribl}- a ghastly smile, he passed it over to a 
second official, who responded to his chuckle. After 
weighing the tobacco, and making a great many 
figures in a business-like Avay, we were informed 
that we could take our choice, either to go back to 
the city under an escort of soldiers, or pay three 
dollars and fifty cents -and go on our way. We 
chose the latter, shook the dust from our feet, and 
departed. John bullied them out of a dollar which 
they wanted him to pay on a cigar-case. This was 
only our first trouble. Two hours after leaving Ven- 
ice we arrived at Padua, where we desis2:ned takinjr 
diligence for this city. The hotel-keeper informed 
us that the seats in the diligence were all engaged, 
and that we would have to remain there twenty-four 
hours, or place ourselves in the tender clntchos of a 
vetturino. lie (the hotcl-keoj)er) would be gainer, 
let us adopt what course we would, lor he was the 
l)roprietor of the carriages as well as the hotel. "We 
were immediately surrounded by a swarm of vettu- 
rinos, who ■pretcnikd to be rivals, but really all the 
servants of the same proprietor. One of them [iro- 
posed to carry us to Ferrara in time for the diligence 
next day, for eighty francs. Another said he would 

hal's travels. 108 

carry us for seventy -five francs. A third very gen- 
erously proposed to carry us tlirongli for sixty. 
Thinking we would get the passage cheap, we pro- 
fessed to be content to remain in Padua until the 
next day for the diligence. Finally, one fellow ap- 
proached us and ottered to take us for the low price 
of fifty francs. "We closed the bargain, thinking it 
dirt-cheap, and found out too late that it was twenty 
francs more than we ought to have paid. Left Pa- 
dua in a sweeping gallop, and in the midst of a 
beating rain. 

Arrived at Rovego about eight o'clock at night, 
where our passports were demanded. Handed them 
over ; and by some sort of hocus-pocus trick they 
were retained for hventij -eight hours! The oflicer 
whose duty it was to sign them, was out of place — 
on a spree, perhaps — and there we had to stay, in a 
hotel like a dog-kennel, surrounded with beggars 
and low, greasy Italians. Some people would have 
got mad under such circumstances. Got our pass- 
ports at length, and made another start. At Ma- 
dalena, at the crossing of the river Po, were stopped 
again, and had to hunt an hour in the rain for 
another little upstart Austrian officer to sign our 
passports, and during the whole time were sur- 
rounded and set upon by a horde of long, lank, 
lean, lazy, lounging, loafing, lame, lying, lousy laz- 
zaroni, whose sole business is begging. I amused 
myself by bouncing the small end of my stick off 
some of their heads, which is evidence that I am 
one of the best-natured creatures in the world; 

104 ual's travels. 

otherwise I should have gone in for breaking necks. 
John boiled over. Well, in the course of time, we 
crossed the Po, and reached the city of Ferrara in 
time to find that wc were too late for the diligence, 
and all the seats even for the next day had been 
taken. Another struggle with the vetturinos, 
dozens of whom ofiered their services to take us to 
Bologna. Finally struck a bargain w^ith one, and 
again found out too late that we were swindled 
worse than before. Got to Bologna and found the 
diligence again fall, and all the seats engaged for 
two days ahead. Stayed at Bologna twenty-four 
hours — long enough to see all the sights of the city, 
and test the quality of the Bologna sausages. Our 
landlord was a growling, snarling, snappish fellow. 
John said it was owing to his having eaten so 
many sausages. The point of the joke " came to 
me" two days afterwards. 

At Bologna w'c hired another vetturino. lie was 
a real nice fellow, and agreed to put us through to 
Florence in the most genteel style. Showed us his 
nice carriage, to which he would hitch three splendid 
horses. "We agreed to pa}'^ him a round price for 
the extra tine style in which we were to travel. At 
the appointed hour we set oft' in a gallop, really 
proud of our splendid three-horse turnout. It was 
two o'clock in the evening. At seven our postilion 
halted at a miserable inn, whicn was full of drunken, 
brigandish -looking fellows, and the laTuUord of 
which had a most villainous i'ace. There we had 
to sleep till morning, or rather trakh ; for it would 

hal's travels. 105 

require a very sanguine man to sleep in a house 
filled with such ferocious-looking creatures as were 
there, and that too in a gorge of the Apennines, 
once famous for robbers. The carousal was kept 
up nearly all night, and we watched with vigilance, 
but didn't see "nary banditti." When morning 
came, we found that our fine vetturino had de- 
camped — taken the back track to Bologna — and 
had left us to be forwarded in a miserable one-horse 
concern, under the care of a new postilion! We 
had our choice — either to submit to the outrage, 
and go on, stay where we were, or walk back to 
Bologna for the purpose of whipping the proprietor. 
As travellers never like to turn back, we went 
ahead. After travelling three or four hours, were 
again transferred to an old barouche, drawn by two 
frames of horses, a sight of which would have made 
a turkey-buzzard smack his lips, and rejoice at the 
prospect of an early feast. With this turnout we 
finished the long and tedious ascent of the Apen- 
nines, and descended into the beautiful level country 
on this side. At Pistoja our postilion dumped us 
down, some twenty miles from Florence, notwith- 
standing our distinct contract with the proprietor 
to put us all the way through to this city. The 
postilion said that his instructions were to bring us 
no farther; and he would not do it. . As Pistoja is 
a railroad station, we frightened the postilion into 
buying us tickets, when we took rail and landed 
here safely, in a little more than five days from 


Now, considering all the troubles and besetracntis 
that met us by the way, don't you think we did well 
to keep our temper ? AVhat would Job have done, 
or what would even Mrs. Caudle have done, under 
the circumstances ? But, as I said before, I don't 

I have not l)ecn in Florence long enougli to tell 
you any thing about it. Will do so, perhaps, before 
long. Can only say that it is a city of great beauty, 
and is the most beautifully situated of any city I 
ever saw, being almost surrounded by gently rising 
mountains, the sides of wliieli are dotted with villas 
and gardens of much loveliness. The river Arno 
flows through the midst of the city. I promise 
myself much pleasure in visiting the many galleries 
of art here, which are the iinest in the world, 
except, perhaps, those of Rome. Have visited the 
family of the American Consul, General Mallett, 
where I was courteously received and entertained. 
General M. is a high-toned gentleman, and Mrs. M. 
a most accomplished lady. 

Think I shall visit Rome and Naples some time 
during the winter, provided there is no war in this 
country. If there be war, I sliall be on the right side. 

As this letter is long enough, I shall desist for the 
present, with the cry of, " Three cheers for Victor 
Emanuel and Garibaldi I Xino cheers forUncle Sam ! 
Death to I'opery and the double-headed Austrian 
Easrle ! Libcrtv to Italv and tlie world, mental, 
moral, and political ! So mote it me ! 

Yours, etc., Hal. 




The following was written to Dr. Antony, of 

Huntsville, Alabama : 

Dear Doctor : — God Wess you ! Yes, I repeat it 
with energy, God bless you ! You have made my 
heart glad. Your letter — the first that I have re- 
ceived from any source since crossing the Atlantic — 
reached me to-day, and was as a balm, a soothing 
cordial to my heart. Your kind and pleasant 
words were like " apples of gold in pictures of 
silver." Would that I could write a response in 
equally elegant and pleasant style ; but as I cannot, 
being a plain, blunt man, you must accept such a 
document as I can pen. But 

Mercy on us ! What a noise ! what a hubbub ! 
what a rumpus ! what a hellabaloo has been kept 
up in Florence this whole blessed day, and is still, 
though eight o'clock at night, going on without the 
least abatement. Bomb — bomb — bang — bang — 
ding-dong — rattle, rattle ! Was the like ever heard ! 
A thousand bells, of all sizes, tones, and descriptions, 
all ringing at once, and each particular bell, with- 

108 hal's travels. 

out the least regard to liarmoiiy, exerting all its 
powers to ring louder and more harshly than its 
neighbor. I am really almost distracted with the 
noise, and shall make but a poor out writing to- 
night. To-day is a great Catholic festival — All- 
Saints' day — but from my heart I pity all saints who 
have remained in Florence to witness its celebra- 
tion ; for surely they ^^•ill retire with aching heads. 
" Old Nick" himself (and he is generally allowed to 
be a brave one) is made of more plucky stutf than 
ordinary devils are supposed to be made of, if he 
has stood his ground to-day. Nay ; if he has ears 
to hear, and wings to fly, I must think he made his 
escape with the dawn of day. And wise would it 
have been for every peaceable, quiet, well-disposed 
l)erson to have followed his example — not that I 
approve of people following the example of so vil- 
lainous a vagabond, as a general thing. But any 
thin<; to o:ct awav from a Catholic festival, where 
they have as many bells as they have in Florence. 
If I were not in an ill-humor, I would spend my 
opinion freely about those tormenting bells, and 
the people who ring them, but shall refrain from 
doing 80 until I am more composed. I might say 
something harsh, which would no doubt be very 
lacerating to the feelings of the "holy fathers;" 
and that would be cruel, you know. Besides, it is 
not in my nature to wound the feelings of my fel- 
low-men wantonly, more especially those whoso 
mission it is to remit sins, and whose privilege it is 
to grant indulgences to those who may desire to 


transgress the holy commandments of God. J^o ; 
far be it from me to speak harshly or disparagingly 
of so large and so very respectable a bod}^ of men, 
whose rigidj energetic, and persevering piety is no 
less vividly marked in their sleek, round faces, than 
in the sacred robes they wear. ISTay, let me not 
offend them ; for I would as soon have a legion of 
devils after me, as an army of pot-bellied priests. 
The annals of Italy prove that they are a desperate 
and bloodthirsty people, notwithstanding their 
fierce sanctity. Then let them ring their bells, eat 
their wafers, grant indulgences, remit sins, strut the 
streets, grind the poor, crush liberty, and fill the 
land with beggars : I shall not say aught against 
their peace and quiet. But enough about the 
Catholics and their bells. I must tell you some- 
thing about Florence. 

But hark! There comes "a rapping at my 
chamber-door." '■'■Entree.'' 

My landlady's daughter has just been in to inform 
me that an American gentleman in an adjoining 
house has been found dead in his room. If you 
will excuse me for a little while, I'll go and make 
inquiries about it. Hope the bells have not caused 
his sudden death. 

The foregoing was written last night, from which 
I was called abruptly to the chamber of death. The 

man was dead — very dead. A Mr. B., of P , 

a victim of "cold pison," caused, as he left "a billy- 


dux a stating," bv circumstances similar to thosft 
which caused Sickles to murder Key. Yes, he is 
gone, and is ])y this time no doubt safely ferried 
over the river IStyx, and landed whore all suicides go. 

Perhaps you think I speak too lightly of so seri- 
ous a matter — that I ought to call up a few croco- 
dile tears, and say "poor fellow," and all that sort 
of stuif. Perhaps I ought, but I cannot. I have a 
peculiar notion about suicides. They quit the 
world because they cannot make the world quit 
them. If they could crush the world, and leave 
themselves living, they would do it ; but as they 
cannot, they destroy- themselves. And besides, 
they are stimulated to the act by the knowledge 
tliat tliev will bo honored with a great fnnoi-;il pro- 
cession, and l)avo the symi)athios of the world, and 
that their deatli and attendant oireumstances will be 
heralded to all parts of the world in the newspapers. 
If it were law and the custom (and it ought to be) 
to bury all suicides with their faces down, and stakes 
driven through their bodies, such occurrences would 
be few and far between. But you may say that a 
man is deranged when he takes his own life. Very 
likely ; but would not the reflection upon such a 
disjjosition of the body, and tlie absence of the sym- 
pathies of the world, bring about a sober second 
thought, and prevent that methodical derangement? 
It seems so to me. 

But I must toll you something about Florence, if 
I can find a starling-point. Would that I could 
jtaint you a i)icture of this lovely city ! I know you 

hal's travels. Ill 

would be charmed with it, for it is the gem, the 
crowning jewel of all the beautiful things I have 
seen in Europe. If it be true that "a thing of 
beauty is a joy for ever," I could impart to you a 
lasting jo3^ But I despair. I feel powerless as an 
infant. I cannot impart to you even an outline. I 
have groped about amid magnificence and in beauty 
until I am sick. You may laugh at me, but it is 
true ! I am sick with seeing. "When I wander 
through the galleries, the palaces, the churches and 
the gardens, I become faint, and my head throbs 
with pain, caused by the continued and labored 
efibrt of the mind to comprehend the grandeur of 
the objects presented. I am robbed of more than 
half the pleasure by the exceeding beauty and great- 
ness of what 1 see. This is no idle assertion, but a 
truth. I know not if it be so with others. 

But you perhaps expect me to tell you something 
about the city. And as the galleries of paintings 
are the first places visited by most travellers, and as 
it is their custom, almost universally — especially 
those who write — to tell of what they there see, 
(and they are generally severe critics,) you may pos- 
sibly expect a similar tirade from me. You shall 
not, however, be so bored. I shall not attempt to 
criticise a single painting. You may wonder that 
I should so far depart from the general custom — 
and, indeed, it is to be w^ondered at — especially 
when you reflect that I can find so many wise and 
learned criticisms already prepared to my hands, 
and nothing to do but to adopt and copy them. 

112 iial's travels. 

Guide-books are of great advantage to critics, and 
to descriptive writers generally. But unfortunately 
for me, I made the sad discovery, when in Paris, 
that I was no judge of pictures. I made the dis- 
cover}' thus: It was in the Luxembourg Palace, 
which is tilled with the paintings of living artists. 
I was standing before a picture with some friends, 
and was piointing out to said friends the peculiar 
beauties and excellence of said picture. I had 
selected it as the finest work of art in the room, and 
was well-nigh going into ecstasies over it, when I 
heard a voice behind^ie utter that senseless but 
very significant word, "Bosh!" Looking round, 
who should be there but a gentleman in whose taste 
and judgment I had the most unbounded confi- 
dence. Iron}- and sarcasm were depicted in the 
contemptuous smiles that sat upon his face. lie 
then went into a critical analysis of the before-men- 
tioned painting, making it as clear as mud to all 
present that it was one of the most contemptible 
daubs ever suffered to occupy a public i)Osition — a 
disgrace to the gallery. I wilted, and never since 
that day have I attempted to criticise a picture. 

But this is not telling you about Florence. Just 
imagine yourself with me, and we will take a stroll 
over the city, the day being one Q^ijt^e most lovely 
of the season. Our walk must be a liurried one — 
just taking time to glance at the things along the 
way. First we will go to the great Cathctlral of St. 
Maria del Fiore, one of the greatest lions of the 
city. Does it not loom up grandly? It is built, or 

hal's travels. 113 

rather encased, in polished marble of various colors, 
and is one of the largest in Italy, being four hun- 
dred and twenty-six feet long, and three hundred 
and fifty-three feet wide ; and that dome you see 
perched up so high is one hundred and forty feet 
from one angle to the other, said to be the largest 
dome in the world, except the Pantheon at Rome. 
By going up to the top of that, you have an excellent 
view of Florence and the country around. Let us 
go inside. Here, stop at the door, and look away 
yonder at the high altar. It is nearly two hundred 
yards off. Those priests y|fc see officiating there 
look no larger than grasshoppers. But is not the 
view a grand one^one vast hall nearly two hundred 
yards long, and high in proportion ? I^ow let us 
enter and look at the thousand and one contrivances 
by which Popery gulls the people. The floor you 
see is of marble of various colors, worked into many 
kinds of figures ; the walls ditto. The altars are 
gorgeous, and the stained-glass windows are very 
pretty. But for fear you may hurt your neck look- 
ing up at the frescoes in the great dome, we will re- 
tire, and come again when we have more time. As 
we are a little hurried, we will pass by all the other 
churches to-day, although there are a hundred worth 
visiting, representing every style of architecture, 
and frescoes innumerable. 

"We will now go to the Pitti palace, if you please. 
On our way thither we pass by several other palaces, 
the most imposing of which is that of Ufizzi, w^hich 
looms up massive and gloomy just on the corner of 

114 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

the Square Gran Duca. "\Vo will not enter now, for 
we would not have time to examine the hundreds 
of celebrated paintings which it contains. Just by 
it is the Koyal Gallery, the most valuable treasure 
Florence possesses. Here we might spend a day, 
and then retire with the determination to come again 
and again. We will pass this by also, for were you 
to go in, you would soon be k^st in admiration of the 
famous Venus de !Medicis, and other great works of 
art, and would forget the Pitti palace. Xow we will 
cross the Arno over this magnificent stone-bridge, 
and in one minute's ^|alk will be at the Palazzo 
Pitti. Here it is. Is it not enough to make man 
feel insignificant to look up at those massive walls ? 
See those huge stones of which it is built; rough 
almost as they came from the quarry, but so large ! 
some ten and some twenty feet long. Is it not as- 
tonishing ? Don't your head begin to pain you ? 
Mine does. But it will be worse before we get 
through. We will now pass this sentinel and go in, 
and as I am anxious to get into the garden in the 
rear, the famous Boboli Garden, we will liurry rapidh' 
through the various rooms of the palace, Avhere the 
paintings and statuary you will find rivalling those 
at the Royal Florentine Gallery. There are four- 
teen saloons in this palace that deserve our special 
attention, but they cannot all be seen at one visit, 
neither will we have time to examine the grandeur 
of the building itself. First we will enter the 
Saloon of Veniis. Here you are enraptured with the 
frescoes on the ceiling. There arc Minerva, Venus, 

hal's travels. 115 

Hercules, and Cosmo ; the Genius of War ; Scipio, 
Antiochus, and his Mistress ; Crispus and Fausta ; 
Cyrus and Panthea ; Augustus and Cleopatra ; Alex- 
ander ; the Mother and "Wife of Darius, etc., etc. 
Are they not magnificent ? 'Now we enter the Salooti 
of AjJollo, in which, as in the previous one, we will 
only glance at the frescoes. Here we see Apollo 
and Cosmo ; Csesar studying his books as he walks, 
that he may lose no time ; Augustus listening to the 
^neid ; Alexander and the Emperor Justinian, 
etc. ISText the Saloon of Mars, where we find Mars 
and Cosmo ; Castor and P^lux ; Captives loaded 
with chains, supplicating the Goddess of Victory ; 
Peace and Abundance, scattering blessings. Saloon 
of Ju2nter : Jupiter, Cosmo, Olympus, and Hercules; 
Minerva planting an olive-tree ; Mars mounted on 
Pegasus ; Vulcan reposing on his anvil ; Diana 
sleeping; Apollo and Mercury, etc. ISTow, do not 
the magnificence of these paintings make you open 
your eyes with wonder ? I doubt if you have seen 
the beautiful furniture of these saloons as you passed 
through them, so taken up were you with the paint- 
ings. Surely the furniture deserves notice : those 
splendid vases, ornamented clocks, tables of Floren- 
tine Mosaic, etc., etc. But as our time is limited, 
we will not linger in the palace. We will, however, 
pass through the Gallery Flora, that you may see 
the celebrated Venus of Canova, said to rival even 
the Venus cle Medicis. 

IsTow we pass from the palace into the garden, 
the first.'view of which makes us halt and gaze and 

116 ual's travels. 

wonder Avitli admiration. The groves, the foun- 
tains, the labp'iuthine avenues, the cunningly- 
devised arcades of evergreen, the hundreds of 
statues — wonderful ! wonderful I After wandering 
an hour, and thinking surely we have seen it all, 
new beauties burst upon us that we knew not of. 
"Were we to tell our friends of but the half we see 
here, they would give us no credit for veracity. 
Come let us mount up to the highest point, (for you 
observe this garden is on a hill,) and take a look 
down at the city. Is it not lovely as a bride adorned 
for her husband ? Ami then the villas that dot the 
hills and vales in all the country around — could 
man conceive anything more enchanting? Look 
out there to the East; there is Fiesole, where 
ancient Florence stood upon the hill. In the midst 
of it you see an old tower. That is the tower of 
Galileo, from which that great philosopher watched 
the heavens. 

K'ow, contemplating all the beauties you see before 
and around you, you say. Surely these Florentines are 
a great people, l^ut you must remember that all 
these things have been thousands of years accumu- 
lating. It is a ver}' ancient city. The Etruscans 
were here indulging in all the luxuries of life, while 
the (Greeks were still barbarians, and Home had yet 
no name. And even then they cultivated sculp- 
ture, painting, architecture, and all the arts, with a 
passion. No wonder, then, that Florence should 
now be the centre of art. 

But let us quit the Boboli Ciarden now, and tako 


a stroll to the Casine, that great resort into which 
Florence empties itself almost every evening. And 
as we have to pass hy my restaurant, we will step 
in and take a lunch. It is rather an extensive 
establishment, and you can have any thing you call 
for ; but, as you are my guest, you must submit to 
the fare that I submit to every day. First, we take 
soup---any kind you like. ISTow a dish of meat and 
vegetables — any kind you are disposed to order — 
and a small bottle of wine. We end now with a 
small dessert of fruit, either grapes, figs, pears, or 
apples. Being through, no"^, we pay three pauls 
(about thirty-three cents) each, and retire. This is 
my dinner, generally. Breakfast costs one paul, 
(eleven cents,) and supper the same. So you see 
living is not dear here. 

But we will go on to the Casine — an extensive 
park, or grove, or forest, adjoining the city. You 
may imagine that it now is Sunday morning, four 
o'clock ; for Sunday is the day, and four o'clock the 
hour, when we will see most people. "We will take 
our course down the quay along the banks of the 
Arno, which you see flows through the midst of the 
city. It is a long walk; but then we will be in 
such a crowd, and the way is so beautiful, that the 
distance will be forgotten. Little more than half a 
mile will put us beyond the city walls, when we will 
enter immediately into the country. But, mercy 
on us ! what a crowd ! what a rush ! Everybody is 
out, and all dressed up in their best, and all, too, 
looking pleased with themselves and all the world. 

118 iial's travels. 

And then look at the scores find scores of brilliant 
and gorgeous equipages ! Did you ever see so 
many and sucli a variet}- of turnouts ? Look, there 
is a four-horse coach — four beautiful cream horses. 
Don't they prance ! And, as I live, here comes an 
oight-horse establishment! and a six-horse, just be- 
hind it ! A}' ; don't the liveried servants Hash and 
shine ! And then the ladies ! How their eyes 
sparkle, and how their plumes nod ! What an 
astonishing amount of tine store goods we see ! 
You see at a glance, from the display of fashion, 
that the season is op^ in Florence — wide open — 
and the fashionables are making the best of it. 
These people are mostly foreigners — only here for 
the season. Thousands of English, French, Ger- 
mans, and Americans come to this city to spend 
the winter. Here we are, at the city gate ; and 
now, amid the jam, we enter the Casine. Is it not 
lovely ? Did you ever see nature and art more hap- 
pily blended ? Those groves, walks, and drives, are 
perfectly enchanting. Here we are, in a dense crowd. 
Justyoiidcr we can dive into the bosom of the forest, 
and in one minute be beyond the noise of the crowd. 
But we will keep with the company, for they all 
seem to be making for one place. Here arc scats, 
by the way : we can rest occasionally. We will 
take the walk on the extreme lett, which is on the 
margin of the Arno. About two miles down we 
halt, because everybody else does. Here are thou- 
sands of peo])le and hundreds of carriages. Now 
you know why Ihry all stopped. A band of tifty 

iial's travels. 119 

brass instruments strikes up a lively air. What ! 
and on Sunday ! Certainly, on Sunday. ISTow, if we 
were to tell this to our countrymen, no doubt many 
of them would roll up their big white eyes to 
heaven, raise their hands, and thank God that they 
were not as other men! Music — brass music — on 
Sunday ! Horrible ! Well, it may be a very hor- 
rible thing, but I am full}' persuaded that it is not 
as horrible as many other things. It gives the 
people recreation and a place to go to. Were there 
no such place to resort to, about one-third of these 
people would sleep away the evening ; another third 
would perhaps spend the time in the drinking- 
saloons, while the remaining third would wander 
listlessly about the streets. This is a military band, 
that plays every clay in some part of the city, but 
only twice a week (Sundays and Thursdays) in the 
Casiue. Don't you think it a good institution. 
Doctor, and don't you think that every city and 
town ought to have a band to play, especially on 
Sunday evenings, even in America? Look on the 
crowd before us, and give me a candid answer. Did 
you ever see a more orderly, contented company ? 

But let us retire from the crowd a few moments, 
to the river bank;. for it is the hour of sunset. 
You have heard and read of Italian sunsets — of 
their beauty and exceeding gorgeousness. You 
shall now see that all you have heard is true. 
Behold the beautiful tints, the rich, golden streaks 
that dart up the sky, the gorgeous halo upon the 
peaks of the Apennines ! Is it not enchanting ? — 


for all the world like a sunset iu Alabama I — tliau 
which there can be nothing more beautiful, except 
a sunrise ! 

Tlie music has now ceased, and the people are 
wending their way back to the city. Let us join 
them ; but as the walk may seem longer in return- 
ing, we will take a carriage — there are plenty here 
waiting to be hired — and join the mass of aristo- 
cratic equipages. Look ! look ! Do you see that 
hard-featured lady in that fine carriage? That is 
old Aunt Harriet Beecher Stowe, who is now spend- 
ing her time and her ill-got money in Florence. 
Don't she cut a swell ! 

Here we are, at my lodgings, Ils^o. 1187 Lung 
Arno. Walk up with me, and we will ring for tea. 
"Walk in. Don't be surprised. !My apartments are 
finely, I may say gorgeously, furnished ; which is 
peculiar to Florence. But, fine as all this furni- 
ture is, I only pay eight dollars a month, service 

Ay ; here is Marie, with her tray of tea and toast. 
Very good; isn't it? It is a good thing to have a 
good landlady — one who will always send you 

Now, tea being over, we will take a smoko, after 
which, if you feel disposed, we will go out and take 
a look at the city by moonlight ; for the moon is 
now near the full. Here are some excellent cigars. 
Take one. I will, if you will excuse me, foil back 
upon my old friend, the pipe. 

Go ! no ! Don't think of going yet. It is 


quite early. Here — the night being balmy, we will 
open this door, and take 'a seat on the balcony, 
which, you see, overlooks the Arno. And here, 
while we smoke, I will briefly tell you my plans for 
the future. For the present I am trying to conquer 
a language which has thus far proved too hard for 
me, but which I intend to master, before I am done 
with it. I have an excellent lady teacher. "Well, 
after I have done that, I shall visit Rome and ll^Taples ; 
after which I shall start for Egypt and the Holy 
Land. There is a company of Americans here 
now, who start in January. I have promised to go 
with them. This is my present design, but lazi- 
ness, and a love of Florence, may prevent my 

But, Doctor, with all the beauty of Florence, and 
all the balminess of the Italian climate, and all the 
poetical associations of the Arno and the Apennines, 
I would rather drink from the big spring in Hunts- 
ville, and gaze upon Monte Sano, than to enjoy all 
these things. It would give me more pleasure now 
to take by the hand an old Alabama or Tennessee 
friend, than to be perched upon the pinnacle of the 
tallest pyramid of Egypt. 

But you say you must go, so I will not detain you. 
Farewell. God bless you. 

Consider me ever yours till farther advised. 


122 hal's travels. 



We are at length having a taste of winter in 
Elorence. The distant peaks of the Apennines are 
white with snow, and the tramontane bhists eome 
wliirling and dancing and eddying along tlie streets 
and around the corners, in the most fantastic, frolic- 
some, and cutting manner. This being the state of 
the weather, your correspondent has lietaken him- 
self to his domicile, and is now snugly housed before 
a sparkling wood fire, (a small one, however, for 
wood is very dear here,) and is just in the humor to 
bore you with a most unmercifully dull letter, the 
which you will find to be a hotch-potch of stuft' 
thrown together at random, and in the which, if 
you do not find any thing wise, you will find plenty 
that is otherwise. 

Perhaps you would like to take a look at this 
lovely city and its surroundings this morning. If 
so, you may for the time consider y<^urself with 
your correspondent, and he will take much pleasure 
in conducting you to a point from which you can 
liave a view that will certainly charm you. The 
view M'e will take this morning will be a general 

hal's travels. 123 

one, for it would require a month, if not two 
months, to see the beauties of the city in cletaiL 
We will go up to the ancient hill and city of Fiesole, 
five miles distant, but which indeed looks to be only 
as many hundred yards. In fact, so bold and strik- 
ing is it, that it seems to almost jut up against the 
city walls. From that eminence you w411 have a 
view which I venture to say is not surpassed in the 
world. But in our journey to Fiesole, we will no- 
tice a few things along the way. As the wind 
blows cold, (though the sky is clear, and the sun 
shines most brilliantly,) we will drop in here at 
"Cafe Doney" and take a cup of strong coffee — a 
very fashionable drink here, and more invigorating 
than wine or strong drink. This, you observe, is 
the cojSfee house of Florence. Here you may see 
people from almost every nation under the sun, at 
all hours of the day. Those waiters, you see, ad- 
dress every man in his own tongue, whether he be 
English, French, German, Turk, or Spaniard. It 
is passing strange that men in such humble posi- 
tions should be able to speak so many languages — 
when with us a man who can speak two or three 
languages fluently is considered quite a scholar. 

ITow here you see dozens of the Florentine 
"flower girls," who resort here daily with their 
baskets of flowers, to furnish strangers with little 
bouquets. They are very bold, you see, and if you 
will not buy a bouquet, they thrust it upon you any- 
how, pay or no pay, and depend upon your gene- 
rosity at some future time. You have no doubt 

124 hal's travels. 

heard of these flower girls before — have read of 
them often — and have perhaps seen pictures of them. 
They are very pretty creatures — in pictures ! You 
arc disappointed Avhcu you see them face to face. 
The average age of them you will set down at not 
less than thirty-iive years. Now liere comes one 
with her great Leghorn hat, the broad brim flaringly 
thrown back, exposing an enormous expanse of face, 
about the color of new leather. Another follows 
in her wake, with pinched features, of a putty color. 
And there is one whose great fat cheeks forcibly 
remind 3'ou of two prodigious beef-steaks. I know 
you are amused when you observe the coy glances 
and assumed modest shyness of these flower girls — 
or wenches, rather. 

But here is another scene of a difterent kind, and, 
if I judge you rightly, it will touch you in a tender 
place. See that little tattered girl with pinched, 
sharp features, as if age had already come upon her, 
leading her poor blind father, and modestly holding 
out her little withered hand, asking alms. Is it not 
a pitiable sight? "Here, child, here are some sous 
for you. Go buy the poor old man a loaf of bread, 
and then lead him to the sunny side of the great 
palace, where I often see you with him, where lie 
may eat his scanty meal in peace, warmed by the 
gentle rays of the sun, which shines as benignly 
upon the poor as upon the rich." And here is a 
poor old crijipled woman. iSiic too must have her 
In-oakfast. Two cents will buy her a loaf of bread, 
and that will appease her gnawing hunger. AVho 


would refuse to give it to lier ? To give a mite to 
these poor hungry creatures is a luxury, a balm to 
the heart of the benevolent. It is better to bleed 
the pocket than the heart. 

Go, old grandmother, and get your breakfast. As 
to these sturdy wretches who lounge about the 
streets and beg, I would rather give them kicks 
than coppers. 

'Now we will proceed towards Fiesole, but will 
not have time to stop on the way to see the many 
beautiful sights. We will stop a moment, however, 
in the square of the Duomo, and look at the great 
Cathedral, the Bell tower, and the Baptistry. ISTo 
man can pass such a place as this without pausing, 
for the architectural beauty here displayed would 
charm a Hottentot. Let us approach the Baptistry. 
It is, you see, a very grand building, of octagonal 
form, and, like the Cathedral and Campanile, is 
built of various-colored marble — red, white and 
black, checked off in chess-board style. We will 
not enter, but just look at the three enormous doors 
cast in bronze, the wonder of all who behold them. 
These doors, or gates, are exquisitely wrought in 
basso-relievo, representing various Scripture scenes, 
from the creation on down to the Christian era. 
The sculpture is as elaborate as beautiful. The 
great artist Michael Angelo said of them : 

"The gates are so miraculously wrought, 

That they might serve to be the gates of heaven." 

The interior of this Baptistry, like many of the 

126 iial's travels. 

palaces and churches erf Florence, is enriched witU 
works of art by the great fathers of Italian painting 
and sculpture — Cimabuc, Giotto Memmi, Michael 
Angelo, and others. But we cannot see them to- 

"\Ve will pass out of the city through the gate of 
St. Gallo, and proceed on our excursion. Those 
villas and the richly-cultivated and terraced gardens 
along the way are perfectly charming, are they not ? 
I know you would like to stop and see all of them, 
hut you must not. Here we are at the beginning of 
the ascent. Sec what labor was required to build 
this road. Like every thing else in Europe, it is 
built to last for ever — no temporary work in this 
country. The mountain is steep, but the road is not, 
so zig-zag and serpentine is its course. It seems 
but a step from " zig" to " zag," but to follow the 
road it is hundreds of yards. 

And here we are at the summit, the spot from 
which many a time and oft the great Galileo gazed 
out u[)on the heavens, and viewed the caverns, cra- 
ters, and volcanoes in the moon ; the place to which 
"Catiline fled from Rome, and fixed his habitation 
for a season ; where the immortal ]>ante mused and 
wrote poetry ; and where stood the favorite villa of 
Lorenzo the Magnificent. Yes, here we are upon 
classic ground, overlooking scenery that no poet can 
describe, nor painter delineate. Turn and cast your 
eye adown the lovely valley of the Arno. See that 
beautiiul stream gliding ln-tween richly-embowered 
banks, and glistening in the sunlight like a thread 

hal's travels. 127 

of silver. See the thousands of white villas that 
peep from out the gorgeous bowers of orange, palm, 
and olive on either slope that bounds the valle}^ ; 
and those terraced gardens, flowery walks, stately- 
avenues, and green meadows ! Can they be sur- 
passed? And see again, away beyond, towering 
peaks of Apennine, robed in virgin snow, looking 
benignly down upon the beauties at her feet, like 
the hoary patriarch smiling upon his children. And 
there lies the city at our feet, basking in the noon- 
day sun, as mild and placid as a sleeping infant. 

]S"ow turn your raptured gaze away over to the 
east, toward the lovely Vallambrosa, in whose calm 
retreats the gods did sport in former times. Sweet 
Vallambrosa, whose myrtle groves and orange 
bowers drop milk and honey ! where flowers grow, 
whose lovely tints are painted by the rays of light 
direct from heaven; where crystal streams and 
fountains play, and ISTaiads lave from morn till eve, 
and shepherds pipe their silvery notes, an3 maidens 
dance the livelong day; where fairies meet, and 
sport, and dance upon the dewy grass where moon- 
beams play ! lovely valley ! How beautiful thy 
groves, how green thy charming meadows, how en- 
chanting thy nooks and dells, and how sweet and 
pleasant thy limpid waters ! But yet and yet, there's 
something wanting. With all the gorgeous loveli- 
ness and all the charms of Val de I'Arno, methinks 
one look from Monie Sana's brow, or from the rugged 
heights of brave old Cumberland, would be to me 
more lovely still. And one sweet draught from the 

128 iial's travels. 

great fount that u'ushes from bcneatli the clilf that 
overliangs the lliuitsville spring, would be to me 
more grateful still than waters of Hiperian springs, 
of which the poets sing. And — and 

Tut ! tut ! tut ! AVhere in the world am I running 
to ? I did not bring you up on this mount to spout 
poetically to you, but to show you the scenery. 
But, my dear sir, you must excuse me. You see 
my muse has been running at large for some time, 
feeding and fattening in the rich ambrosial meadows 
of Parnassus, and, like a colt just tqken olf the grass, 
it broke off" into a canter before I was aware of it. 
But now we will jog along soberly back to the city. 
And now I suppose after what you have seen to-day 
you are willing to admit that if Paradise was more 
beautiful, our first parents did sin grievously when 
they forfeited their title to it for a momentary grati- 
fication of the appetite. I think so. 

Next Sunday is to be a gala day here. The newly- 
elected Governor, Prince Carignanie, is expected to 
arrive here from Turin, and great preparations are 
being made to receive him. A grand military dis- 
play will take place in the Casino, where an im- 
mense amphitheatre of seats is being erected, and 
tents or canopies of the most gorgeous description 
arc being put up, in one of which is a groat altar, 
tricked off similar to those in churches. This altar 
is erected for the Archbishop of Tuscany, who .upon 
that occasion will go through the ceremony of bless- 
ing the banners and arms of Tuscany, for we do not 
know what day they will have to go into battle 


against his High-Mightiness the Pope. His Holi- 
ness is mustering his forces for the purpose of re- 
covering his last temporal power in those States 
which have deserted him. I presume he has blessed 
his arms and banners too, which blessing, if there 
be any virtue in either, is certainly better than that 
of the Archbishop of Tuscany, as the latter holds 
or obtained his authority from the former. Guess, 
though, one is about as good as the other, and 
equally ridiculous. 

On Monday night there is to be a grand ball given 
to the Prince and to the members of the House of 
Delegates who chose him to reign over Tuscany. 
The people are quite enthused, and nothing is talked 
of but the coming of Prince Carignanie, who is a 
nephew of Victor Emanuel, King of Sardinia. It 
is said that the ball will be a most brilliant aftair, to 
come off in the palace prepared for the Prince's re- 

'Now to what good fortune, or to whom, your 
humble correspondant is indebted for an invitation 
to said ball, he knows not. Certain it is, he has got 
one. Last night, while quietly seated in my room, 
heels reared up on the mantel, musing and ponder- 
ing upon time gone by, and joys departed, alas ! never 
to return, I was roused by a loud rap at my door, 
when who should enter but a military-looking gen- 
tleman with a shining star upon his shoulder, and 
ever so many golden medals dangling about his 
bosom. Chapeau in hand, he asked if I were " Sig- 
nor Hal." Upon being answered in the affirmative, 


130 hal's travels. 

lie drew forth a jiicce of pasteboard about four bj' 
six iuchos, deposited it in my hand, and departed 
before I had time to ask any questions, or even to 
find out who he was. I knew it was not a chal- 
lenge, or he would have waited for an answer ; be- 
sides, challepges are never printed, except in Cali- 
fornia. There, I believe, they keep blank challenges 
on hand ready to be filled up at a moment's notice. 
After trying for some time to read the document, I 
gave it up in despair. Summoned my landlady and 
her daughter, each of whom can speak English a 
little better than I can speak Italian. By putting 
our three heads together, we made out that it was an 
earnest request that "Signor Hal" would make his 
personal appearance at " Villa del Poggio Imperi- 
ale," on the evening of the 21st inst., at a "grandc 
Festa di Ballo." 

Upon reading this card I felt considerably lifted 
up, and my landlady was in ecstasies. She regarded 
it as an honor to her house, that one of her lodgers 
should be invited to a ball at the Imperial Palace, 
^he says I nvisi [lo ; but, between you and me, I am 
in the condition of poor Flora McFlimsey — I've got 
" nothing to wear." Still the old lady earnestly as- 
sures me that I imist go, and that she will see that I 
am properly rigged out. I shall certainly not buy a 
«uit for the occasion. If I do go, (and I think it 
likely I shall.) I will write you an account of the 
proceedings. IIow I came to get a ticket is a mys- 
tery to me, for I know that I have acted quietly and 
modestly since my sojourn in Florence. But it is 


hard for a man to hide his candle under a busheL 
Genius, like murder, will out. 

I guess you think it about time for this document 
to come to a close — that it is like the old lady's 
breakfast — "plenty of it, such as it is," but not like 
her breakfast in another respect, which she said was 
"good enough, what there was of it." I have kept 
the promise, however, that I made in the outset. 

You must excuse me for neglecting to conduct 
you into any of the Art Galleries or Studios to-day. 
I will try to do so at some future time. We will 
take a peep into the studios of Powers, Hart, and 
Gault, the American Sculptors, some of these days, 
when we can see busts and statues of most of the 
great names of America — Washington, Franklin, 
Jefferson, Clay, Calhoun, Webster, etc., etc. In 
either of them you would imagine yourself much 
less than five thousand miles from home. 

Will sail from IlTaples for Egypt about the 1st of 
January. It is quite an undertaking, for the great 
desert that is to be crossed is a more formidable 
obstacle than the Atlantic. You shall hear from 
me occasionally along the way. 

Think I will spend the Christmas holidays at 
Eome. Yours, etc., 


132 hal's travels. 



Tuis is a cold raw day in Florence. Angry clouds 
obscure the sun. The winds career and dash along 
the streets, chilling the blood, and taking unwarrant- 
able liberties with mantillas and petticoats. Pedes- 
trians hurry along, closely nintlied in shawls, cloaks, 
and furs; and beggars are active. Your corre- 
spondent is again hovering over his little fire, and 
but for the consolations of his old and faithful friend, 
the pipe, would be enjoying a most luxurious spell 
of the blues. Thinks seriously of migrating to a 
milder climate — ]Sra})lcs perhaps. Florence is too 
near the snow-covered mountains for a winter resi- 

I mentioned in my last letter that the Tuscan 
House of Delegates had elected a Governor to reign 
over them — Prince Carignanic — and that groat pre- 
parations were making here for his reception, lie 
did not come ; but a message came instead, saying 
that Emperor N^apolcon dimpproved of the proceed- 
ings, and preferred that the Tuscans should do 
without a ruler until a Congress of Nations should 
decide whether they should choose their own ruler, 


or the former Austrian Grand Duke (expelled by 
the late revolution) should be thrust back upon 
them ! This message made the proud Florentines 
bite their lips with rage and disappointment, and 
many, no doubt, cursed the French Emperor in their 
hearts, but gratitude for his past friendship kept 
them from openly denouncing the usurpation. 

But notwithstanding the disappointment, the fes- 
tivities which were being prepared for the Prince's 
reception were carried out. The arms and banners 
of Tuscany were blessed by the Bishops, and an ad- 
dress was delivered, in which it was announced that 
the Tuscans would submit to no ruler, except one 
of their own choosing ; that the Grand Duke should 
never again enter Florence, nor should the Pope 
have temporal dominion over them. This announce- 
ment was received with universal applause by the 
immense gathering of people — especially the troops 
— the ISTational Guard. 

The grand ball did come off at " Yilla de Poggio 
Imperiale," and your correspondent was there ! If 
my pen did not shrink abashed from the attempt, I 
would try to picture to you the grandeur and beauty 
— the glare and glitter — displayed on that occasion. 
The palace is one of the finest in Italy ; stands upon 
a beautiful eminence just one mile from the city 
gate, and is approached by a broad avenue, richly 
bordered with trees and flowers. On the night of 
the ball, this avenue was brilliantly illuminated 
with thousands of lamps, all the way from the city 
to the palace. The broad front of the palace was 

134 U A L ' S TRAVELS. 

studded with various-colored lights, displaying fes- 
toons, and many rich and beautiful devices. I 
thought nothing could bo more enchanting than 
the fairy-like scene presented on approaching the 
palace. But upon entering, I was struck dumb with 
admiration. It was too much for a plain simple 
republican, all the way from the wilds of America. 
No expense had been spared in fitting up and deco- 
rating the splendid halls for the occasion. Every 
thing was as tine as fine could be. And then the 
magnificent costumes of the nobility were dazzling. 
Nor were the gentry behind the nobility in brilliancy 
of dress. In short, among the ladies, there was 
nothing in dress that was not of the finest. There 
were many English present, and a few Americans. 
I think the finest-looking lady there was an Ameri- 
can — a Miss 11 , of N. Y. To my taste she was 

decidedly Hie belle of the festival. Murmurs of ad- 
miration arose wherever slie went. !She M'as dressed 
with more simplicity than any lady there, but sim- 
plicity was adornment to her. I am sorry to say 
that one or two of our American ladies were so nmcli 
dressed, that many lips were curled derisively, and 
many sly nods and winks were indulged, as they 
swept haughtily through the saloons. 

There were from two to three thousand persons 
present. The music was enchanting — but nothing 
seemed more musical or delightful to me than the 
conversation of the Italian ladies. The language is 
soft and sweet — every word ending with a vowel — 
with a stress upon the syllable that gives the word 

iial's travels. 135 

most music. ISTotliing can be more pleasing to the 
ear than a conversation between two Italian ladies 
— refined, elegant Florentine ladies. Their dancing 
is graceful and beautiful; and although generally 
slender and delicate, they never seem to tire. I 
think there were some who danced the entire night, 
scarcely missing a set. Princess Strozzi was con- 
sidered the most elegant dancer, and lookers on 
were enchanted with her graceful movements, as 
well as her elegant figure. As she moved through 
the quadrille, 

"Her feet beneath her petticoat, 
Like little mice, stole in and out, 
As if they feared the light." 

The dance continued until the gray streaks of 
the morning were visible in the east, when all re- 
tired to their homes and to their virtuous couches to 
dream of beauty. 

I think I mentioned to you in my last letter that 
there was some doubt about my going to the ball — 
that, like poor Flora McFlimsey, I had " nothing to 
wear." My landlady, I think I told you, was de- 
termined I should go ; that she was ambitious to have 
her house represented there, and therefore under- 
took the business of seeing that I was properly fitted 
out for the occasion. Regarding the honor of her 
establishment as being at stake, she rested not until 
she borrowed a dress-coat that fitted me to a T, and 
an embroidered white satin vest. 'Next, she rum- 
maged among drawers until she found an elegantly 


136 ual's travels. 

embroidered Avhite cravat, of an antique pattern, 
which had belonged to her dear, but long since de- 
parted husband. A hair-dresser was sent to my 
room with his instruments, (curling-tongs among 
them,) with instructions to do my head up a la mode. 
My landlady's daughter, too, sent me ever so many 
bottles of oils and sweet-smelling essences. The 
maid was sent back to the kitchen the third time 
before she gave my boots a sufficient polish to please 
her mistress. Finally, about thirteen minutes past 
nine o'clock I was pronounced presentable, and ad- 
mitted to the parlor, where the boarders were all 
assembled to see me oft". My appearance was pro- 
nounced unexceptionable, except that one of the 
company thought my white kids a little too tight — 
that they made the hands present rather a " strut- 
ting" appearance. At half-past nine I set out, and a 
little after ten was ushered into the great saloon of 
the "Villa del Poggio Imperiale," wliere I trust I 
did no discredit to my honorable landlady, or her 
excellent house. The "Americana" has been quite 
a lion in the house since the ball, and is regarded 
as no small potatoes. 

After all my dreams and fond anticipations, I fear 
my design to go to Egypt and the Holy Land will 
be frustrated ; and if so, I shall lay the wiiole bhime 
at tlie door of that arch politician, Stephen A. 
Douglas. Yes, if you do not get any letter from 
yon'^^umble servant in those fiir-off regions, you 
may blame the "Little (iiunt." Now, you may 
think this strange, that Douglas, five thousand miles 

hal's travels. 137 

away, should have any influence upon my travels. 
But it is so. ISTot by any thing he is doing now, 
but by what he did several years ago. If he had 
not introduced the Kansas IsTebraska Bill, the great 
Republican party would never have had an exist- 
ence. If the Black Eepublican party had never 
come into being, there would never have been any 
border warfare in Kansas. Had there never been a 
border war in Kansas, Captain Brown, the notorious 
" Ossawattomie," would have lived and died un- 
known. Had he lived and died unknown, the 
Harper's Ferry rebellion would never have oc- 
curred, nor would he have been executed as 
a traitor and an insurrectionist. And if that rebel- 
lion and execution had never occurred, I should 
have gone on my way rejoicing to Jerusalem. But, 
strange to say, all these things may prevent my 
going. And how? you may ask. I'll tell you. 
You remember I told you in a former letter that I 
was going with a party of Americans. It happens 
that this party is composed of live Yankees, the 
chief of which is one of the "immortal three thou- 
sand" I^ew England clergy. This divine and ni}'- 
self have freely and frequently discussed the slavery 
question. Thought I had him almost converted 
from the error of his way, until the news of the 
Harper's Ferry insurrection reached us. Since that 
we have had two or three stiff quarrels. He argues 
for Brown, and contends that he was deranged — had 
gone crazy on account of his troubles in Kansas, and 
that, instead of being hung, he ought to be confined 

138 hal's travels. 

in an asylum. I contend he ought to be hung a little 
anyhow — an hour or so — even if he is deranged, 
that his execution may have a salutary eft'ect upon 
others who are verging towards the same species of 
insanity. And upon one or two occasions, when 
goaded pretty severely, I have insinuated that this 
same parson would not have far to go to be as crazy 
as old Brown. He resents the insinuation with dig- 
nity, but still I have my opinion. I think the par- 
son has an idea that he will go to old ''Aunt Harriet 
Beecher Stowc" when he dies, and this is another 
source of rupture between us. So you see it is 
doubtful about our agreeing well enough to make 
such a long journey together. If we do not, just 
lay the blame to Douglas. I must, however, do the 
parson justice to say that he is a very pleasant and 
agreeable man in every other respect but upon the 
slavery question. We meet almost every day in the 
most friendly manner, but generally part in a huft*. 
The rest of the party are moderate enough. There 
are four ladies and four gentlemen ; three of them 
are preachers. 

I must relate to j'ou a little adventure I had the 
other (lay at my restaurant, at dinner. Sitting op- 
posite me at the table was a very prim, nice-looking 
Englishman, and, what is unusual for an Knglislnnan, 
beseemed to be of a most social and lively disposition. 
Entering into conversation, I found him sprightly 
and agreeable, showing by his manners and conver- 
sation tBat he had evidently had access to good so- 
ciety, and was not altogether unacquainted with 


books and newspapers; boasted that he was a 
regular reader of the London Post, the Palmerstou 
mouthpiece. I was pleased with my new acquaint- 
ance, so different was he from the great bulk of 
English travellers, who, as a general thing, are 
afraid to be social, fearing that they will be regarded 
as common stock, or, at least, something below the 
aristocracy and gentry. They go upon the principle 
that "familiarity breeds contempt," and they are 
perseveringly resolved not to be contemptible. But 
here I had found one who feared no contempt on this 
score. Was extremely agreeable, but, like the rest 
of his tribe, I found him pugnaciously patriotic. 
We discussed the San Juan difficulty, and other 
questions likely to bring about a rupture between our 
respective countries. He talked fair and reasonable 
enough for an Englishman, and finally proposed 
good-naturedly to bet me a bottle of wine — " spark- 
ling Moselle" — that if there ever should be a war 
between Uncle Sam and John Bull, the former 
would come out second best ; and, to show that he 
was in earnest, proposed to buy the wine then and 
there, with the understanding that if the fight should 
ever occur, and I should lose, I should pay him two 
bottles, provided we should meet again. I agreed 
to the proposition, and he bought the wine, over 
which we cracked several jokes, and parted the best 
of friends. I came to my room and pondered over 
the matter, and came to the conclusion that I had 
not done the English justice in concluding that they 
were such a cold, selfish people. Since that time I 

140 ual's travels. 

have tried to liiid my new frieud often, for I felt 
anxious to perpetuate an acquaintance which pro- 
mised to be so agreeable. I failed to meet with him. 
I got a glimpse of him yesterdaj'^ evening, however, 
in the Casine, dressed in the gauchj livay of a fooi- 
vian, behind his master's carriage ! 

This letter being long enough, and as dry as it is 
long, I shall close it. Yours, etc., 





After having made np my mind to leave 
Florence a week or two ago, I took occasion to 
run round and take a last, long, lingering look at 
many of its beauties, before doing so. I mounted 
the great dome of its Cathedral, (the largest Cathe- 
dral dome in the world,) and took a last look at the 
city and its beautiful environs. Went again through 
the magnificent galleries of the Pitti Palace, and 
through the Boboli Gardens, the splendid galleries 
of Ulizzi Palace, the Palazzo Vecchio, and also 
many of the noble churches. Went again to take 
a farewell look at the statuary of our American 
artists, Messrs. Powers, Gault, and Hart, and then 
with an effort tore myself away from " Florence the 

We started on Thursday morning last — many 
Americans of us together — about twenty-five. The 
morning was most lovely, clear, bright, and frosty ; 
the air perfectly calm. The sun rose just as the 
train glided out of the depot, and took its way down 
the pretty valley of the Arno for Leghorn. The 
tops of the mountains around us were white with 

142 iial's travels. 

SHOW, and looked most beautiful in the morning 
sun. Three hours brought us to the ancient city of 
Pisa, which is indeed no mean city. Here we 
stopped a few hours, to see the fine Cathedral, the 
Leaning Tower, and the Campo Santo, and to make 
the acquaintance of one hundred and seventeen 
beggars, more or less. Took the cars at two o'clock, 
and in an hour more were lauded at the Legliorn 
depot. Ran a narrow risk of being torn into several 
pieces by a horde of hack-drivers, each of whom 
seemed to take a fancy to me, and desired to take 
me to the wharf Finally got to the wharf with 
whole bones, and, after lighting m}- way through 
another army of beggars, enjoying a bit of a " tist- 
iculf " with a liack-driver, quarrelling with a police- 
man, and bloodying the nose of a gondolier, got 
safe upon the deck of a miserable little steamer 
called the "Pompeii." Got aboard just in time to 
prevent a "fist and skull" frolic between an Amer- 
ican friend of mine and the boatman who had rowed 
him tVoni the wliarf to tlie steamer. The quarrel 
between them Avas amusing. The American was 
doing liis level best to curse the boatman in Italian, 
and the l)()atnian was cursing my iVicnd in most 
villainous iOnglish. Tlicse rascally hacknicn, boat- 
men, and pollers almost invariably ask double jirice 
for what they do, unless you make a distinct bargain 
with them before they perform the service. 

The little steamer was packed full of passengers, 
and, strange to say, there were more Americans 
than any others. A strolling band of female musi- 

hal's travels. 143 

cians came on board and treated us to some very 
good music, before we set sail ; and what was pecu- 
liarly cheering to me, they performed " Old Folks 
at Home," "Old Kentucky Home," and "Yankee 
Doodle." This brought forth loud applause from 
the American passengers, and lightened all of our 
pockets to the amount of many sous. 

At four o'clock the steaming apparatus was put 
to work, and with its coughing, wheezing, spitting, 
and snorting, we glided out of the harbor of Leg- 
horn, and took our course towards Civita Yecchia, 
the port nearest Rome. The evening was delight- 
ful, the sky perfectly clear, and scarce a breath of 
wdnd. The deep blue Mediterranean was almost as 
calm and quiet as the limpid waters of our own 
beautiful Tennessee. The sun went down into the 
bosom of the sea, leaving the sky so beautifully 
tinged that Claude Lorraine would have jumped up 
and cracked his heels together with pure delight, 
could he but have been on earth to witness it. 

A little after sundown the bell sounded for dinner, 
when a terrific rush was made for the cabin, in 
which scufHe the lady passengers were promiscuously 
squeezed, and much crinoline was said to be worsted. 
As you may be somewhat curious to know what 
good things could induce such a rush, I will append 
a bill of fare. First course : five spoonsful of hot 
water, with thirteen specks of grease floating on 
top, and twenty-three grains of rice at the bottom. 
This, through courtesy, was called. soup. Second 
course : a boiled Lish potato, about as big as a 

144 iial's travels. 

lump of chalk. Third cour60 : a chiekeu, cut into 
forty- two pieces, and some salad, which I thought 
had a very fishy smell. My right-hand neighbor 
said he thought it was seaeoned with cod-liver oil. 
Fourth course: a very small dab of spinach. 
Dessert : one pear and two almonds apiece. 

After dinner went out to gaze at the moon. It 
was nearly full, (much nearer than avc were, although 
just from the dinner-table;) and so beautifully did 
it shine upon the dancing water, that the scene was 
enchanting. Many songs were sung ; many stories 
were told ; and I am not sure but a little courting 
was done that night on the deck of that little 

At the proper hour I went down into the cabin, 
to go to bed, but found all the berths taken. The 
captain politely informed me that I would have to 
lie upon the table. I objected to that, emphati- 
cally, not wishing to be disposed of in such a sum- 
mary manner. The captain assured me that if I 
would 8ufl:er myself to be "laid upon the table," it 
should not be considered a final disposition, but 
that I should be " called up" at the proper time. 
He however acknowledged the reasonableness of 
my objection, and kindly gave me my choice, to 
either be hud ui)on the table or "lloored." I chose 
the latter, and with many others spread myself 
upon the iloor, and enjoyed a comfortable night's 

I arose the next morning with the sun, went ott.C 
deck, and got a view of that delectable town known; 


as Civita Veccliia. It is a friglitful place ; and even 
now the thought of having to go through it again, 
terrifies me. If my ink were black enough, I 
would write you a description of Civita Vecchia 
and its people, together with my opinion of the 
Roman laws which govern it. But with ordinary 
ink I could not do it justice, and will therefore let 
it pass. Our boat anchored in the harbor at eight 
o'clock. Our passports were sent on shore, and, 
after waiting two hours, permission was given us 
by the police to land. The business of landing was 
tedious, as only two small boats were employed. 
Finally we all got ashore, and, as usual, were set 
upon by the beggars. Our baggage was thrown 
pell-mell into carts, and trotted off to the custom- 
house, and we required to follow. The ceremony 
of examining baggage occupied just five hours ; and 
everybody who touched it had to be paid. After 
hunting another hour, and walking two miles, we 
at length found the head of the police department, 
and got our passports, paying, of course, for the 
vise of the chief. After this, we were sufiered to 
go to a hotel and get our breakfast, now late in the 
afternoon. About seventy-five porters demanded 
pay for taking care of the baggage while we ate. 

Yet Civita Yecchia, with all its faults, is not 
without its attractions. After breakfast, leave was 
kindly given all of us who had any curiosity, to 
enter the Church of the "Immaculate Conception," 
and take a look at the celebrated loinkmg picture, of 
which you have no doubt heard. It is a picture of 

146 hal's travels. 

the IIolj Virgin which adorns the altar ; and a very 
pretty painting it is. The officiating priest informed 
us with prodigious gravity, that in 1854 this picture 
commenced winking its eyes, and continued to do 
80 for three months continuously ; that it had 
%\'inked four times within the last month ; that it 
had been eighteen days since it winked the last 
time. A statement of this miracle is inscribed in 
the stone wall of the church, in the form of a bull 
of Pope Pius IX., ordering the name of the church 
to be changed on account of it, from Santa Maria 
to that of the Immaculate Conception — signed, 
"Pius IX,!" Now, if I had not seen the picture 
and the inscription, and had not the priest, in his 
holy robes, informed me of the fact, I doubt much 
if I could ever have believed fullj'- in the miracle. 

After leaving the church of the Immaculate Con- 
ception, with its wonderful picture, we started for 
the depot, all taking carriages, of course, as the dri- 
vers generously olicrcd to rfarry us for the small sum 
of half a paul each. This was cheap enough, but 
upon reaching the depot we had to pay not only the 
lialf paul for our own ride, but a paul for each par- 
ticular article of baggage, however small, besides 
paying parties for carrying the trunks from the car- 
riages into the depot. Finally, near live o'clock, 
the whistle sounded, and we gladly bade farewell to 
Civita Vecchia, and bounded off towards Kome. 
My opinion is, that the man who can get through 
tliat seaport, and keep his temper the while, is a 
philosopher, deserving more praise than was ever 

hal's travels. 147 

awarded to Socrates, or even poor old Job. Even 
your philosophic correspondent came well-nigh 
falling into a passion on divers occasions while 

Two hours' run brought me to the city of the 
Csesars — once the mistress of the world, and the 
seat of art, learning, and eloquence. Yes, by seven 
o'clock we were in Rome, gazing with awe and 
wonder at the scenes before us, by moonlight. And 
here we have been many days, walking amid palaces, 
clambering among ruins, groping among catacombs, 
and seeing many things that can be seen nowhere 
but in Rome. I have viewed the city and its classic 
environs from the heights of Pincian Hill ; from the 
Palatine and Capitoline Hills ; have stood upon the 
Tarpeian Rock, and upon the towering dome of St. 
Peter's ; have walked upon, around, and beneath 
the great Coliseum, and have stood beneath the 
oldest and grandest dome upon earth, the Pantheon. 
All these things and manjj, more have I seen, and 
still, for the life of me, I cannot realize that I am in 

Here Catholicism reigns triumphant ; stalks 
abroad at noonday and in the night-time, arrayed 
in all its pomp and glory. Here ignorance prevails, 
and superstition reigns over all. The Bible is pro- 
hibited, and the people are not allowed to whisper, 
or even to think that God can be approached in any 
way except through the priesthood, and by doing 
penance. Intelligent American people would 
scarcely believe me were I to tell them but the half 

148 hal's travels. 

of what I hear, see, and learn every day about the 
hunibuggery of the Catholic rulers, and the super- 
stitions of the Roman people. ^ISrotliing seems too 
ridiculous for them to believe. In St. Peter's 
church there is a bronze statue — a hideous-looking 
thing — seated upon a pedestal. The image seems 
to be holding out its right foot, the toe of Avhicli all 
the faithful kiss. I have seen hundreds kiss it, and 
a cardinal among the number. It is said to have 
been originally a statue of Jupiter, but it is now 
called St. Peter. I went to the church of St. John 
Laterau the other day, and in an adjoining building 
I saw a staircase up which a company of people 
were ascending on their knees, kissing devoutly 
each step as they ascended. I asked the meaning 
of this, and was told by the priest that the stairs 
were brought from the Palace of Pilate, in Jeru- 
salem, and were the same that our Saviour passed 
over when carried before Pilate. He said that all 
believers who went up these stairs on their knees, 
M'crc granted ten years indulgence for every step. 
A notice upon the wall signed by the Pope (Gregory, 
as well as I remember) confirmed what the priest 
said. In this same l)uilding arc iircservod a great 
many valuable relics : the curbing which sur- 
rounded the well where Christ talked with the wo- 
man of Samaria; a stone ta1)lc with a hole through 
it, which we are seriously told was made by a wafer 
being dropped upon it l)y a doubting priest, who, 
while administering the lioly sacrament, doubted for 
a moment that the wafer was really the flesh of the 


Saviour ! But as I was only in this room for a mo- 
ment, (it being closing time,) I will wait until I visit 
it again before I tell you of the hundreds of relics 
there to be seen. The staircase mentioned above 
is the same that Martin Luther, the great reformer, 
was going up when he was converted from the error 
of his way, and renounced Catholicism for ever. 

In the church of Ara Coeli is another wonderful 
thing. It is a wooden figure of a baby, called the 
infant Saviour, said to have been carved by a Fran- 
ciscan pilgrim, out of a tree from the Mount of 
Olives, and painted by St. Luke. To touch this 
image is said to be wonderfully efficacious in the 
curing of diseases, and is a sure preventive of ac- 
cident, both by sea and land. If it does possess this 
virtue, I am safe, for I have touched it. It is rigged 
out in the most gorgeous style, wonderfully rich in 
jewels, which bespangle it from head to foot — pre- 
sents from the wealthy whom it has relieved in sick- 
ness. 'No Roman lady of quality ever goes to the 
"straw" without having this image present, which 
is said to insure a safe delivery. The priest whose 
duty it is to take care of this miraculous baby, told 
us that there was never a day that it was not carried 
out to attend the sick. It has a coach of its own to 
ride in. In the church are a great many paintings, 
representing the accidents which the touching of 
this figure will prevent, such as horses running away, 
coaches overturned, shipwrecks, persons falling 
down stairs, falling scaffolds, assassinations, and 


hundreds of other accidents to which man is liable. 
This baby is a great source of revenue to the church, 
for besides the fees paid for its going out to the sick, 
all to whom it is exhibited are expected to pay the 
priest something. All the peasant women in the 
country have the privilege of bringing their children 
to touch it once a year gratis, at its festival, the 
Epiphany. There is a cross in the church, that by 
kissing, one is allowed seven years' indulgence. 
Some of the other churches offer still greater induce- 
ments to worshippers. These are but a thousandth 
part of the absurdities here practiced and sanctioned 
b}' tlie Pope. 

There is one place here, however, that I visited 
with feelings of reverence — the house in which St. 
Paul lived when here. You Avill remember that lie 
rented a house and lived here two years, and 
preached the gospel to all who came to him. The 
floor of the house is now several feet below the sur- 
face of the ground, but the old walls remain perfect. 
The door has been walled up for many centuries, 
and we now reach it by descending a flight of steps 
leading from the vestibule of the church of Santa 
Maria in Via Lata. The identity of this house is 
one of the Roman traditions that I can believe, be- 
cause it is reasonable to suppose that the Christians 
who have lived hero ever since the days of St. Paul 
would never have lost sight of the house in which 
he lived and preached to tliem. Besides, there are 
other houses standing here that were built, perhaps, 


long before it was. The Pantheon, for instance, 
almost perfect, was built many years before Christ 
was upon earth. 

While standing in that little room, and thinking 
of the thrilling eloquence of the apostle which its 
walls had echoed a thousand times — of the humble 
simplicity of his teachings and manner of his life — 
and contrasting them with the present pomp of those 
who here profess to be his followers, I could not 
but think what wonderful strides the Christian re- 
ligion had made since his day ! If Popery and the 
manner of Catholic worship be right, the Apostle 
Paul must have been a stupid old fogy. I take it 
that he was a sort of Methodist preacher, and in- 
structed all who came to him in a plain simple way, 
expounding the Scriptures in such a manner that 
all who desired to do so could understand and be- 
lieve. Don't think he ever rode in a gilded carriage, 
or wore a crown with diamonds in it. Nor do I 
believe that he would have suffered men to kneel to 
him and to worship him in the street — he or the 
Apostle Peter either — without rebuking them. But 
this only shows that they were behind the times. 
Their successor, the Pope, dresses in purple and fine 
linen, wears a golden crown, rides in a gilded car- 
riage with a numerous body-guard, and expects the 
people to kneel to him when he passes along the street 
— and thousands do it. This is the difference be- 
tween the Pope and his predecessors. His Holiness 
is evidently aware of the old-fogyism of the Apostle 
Paul, and hence denies his people the privilege of 

152 U A L ' S TRAVELS. 

learning any thing about bis precepts. When tbe 
apostle left Rome and went over to Ephesus, after 
having established a good large congregation here, 
he \Yrote them a long pastoral letter, full of instruc- 
tion, and which he no doubt thought would be edi- 
fying to them, lie wrote it in simple language, 
that they might the more readily understand it. 
Now this letter the Pope utterly forbids his people 
to read, although written directly to them. The 
l)Ook: containing this letter is not allowed to remain 
in the hands of any of them. It is banished from 
the empire, and no man is allowed to bring it here. 
(See Paul's Epistle to the Romans.) 

A few days ago I visited the Mamertine Prison, 
where the Apostles Paul and Peter were confined as 
prisoners before their execution. It is a dismal dun- 
geon at the foot of the Capitolinc Hill. It is the 
same in which Jugurtha was starved to death, and 
where many of the Catiline conspirators were con- 
lined. In the floor of this prison is a well of clear 
pure water, which is said to have miraculously sprung 
up to afford water for Paul to baptize the keepers 
of the prison who were converted under his influ- 
ence. I drank water from this well. On the side 
of the wall by the steps of this dungeon is a print 
of a man's face in the stone. The keeper informed 
us that it was made by St. Peter's face being knocked 
against the wall by one of the jailers. The impres- 
sion is as distinct as if it had been done with a ham- 
mer and chisel. It is protected by an iron grating. 

In the churcli of St. John Latcran wc were shown 


the identical table on wMcli Christ and his disciples 
ate the Last Supper. It is preserved in a glass case. 

There are three hundred churches in Rome, and 
I believe all of them possess a piece of the true 
cross, and most of them a thorn from the crown of 
thorns. I am told, but have not seen it, that one of 
them possesses a bottle of milk from the breast of 
the Virgin Mary ! This is no joke. I have it from 
the very best authority. 

Perhaps you would like me to tell something 
about the great St. Peter's church. All that I can 
say is that it is indescribable. Its interior exceeds 
any thing I had ever dreamed of. Its size does not 
exceed its beauty. It would take a much greater 
mind than I possess even to conceive any thing half 
so magnificent. It is truly the world's wonder. I 
have heard it said that it cost one hundred and thirty- 
seven millions of dollars I And, think of it ! all this 
money raised b}^ the sale of indulgences ! What a 
stupendous swindle ! 

I have visited the galleries of the Vatican, said to 
be among the richest in the world ; and while there 
saw the modus operandi of manufacturing mosaics, 
but did not hear the Vatican thunder " nary" time. 
From the best information I can get, the Vatican 
contains over six thousand rooms ! It is said to 
cover forty acres ! 

I shall not attempt to tell you in this letter any 
thing about the ruins or environs of Rome. I have 
much to see yet, and may write you again before 
leaving here. Shall remain here until after Christ- 

154 iial's travels. 

mas, and Then go to Naples. There are many Amer- 
icans in Rome, several of whom are going to Egypt 
and Jerusalem. 

I am glad to inform you that the bells are not 
rung here half as much as in Florence. 

If this letter is too long, you must blame the ele- 
ments, not me, for if the rain had not kept me in 
the house to-day, I should not have written. 

When the weather gets better I am going out to 
Appii Forum, and the Three Taverns, where the 
brethren went out to meet the Apostle Paul when 
he was coming to Rome. The meeting was very 
gratifying to the apostle, and he " thanked God and 
took courage." It is about three hours travel from 
here to the Three Taverns. 

Peace be with you and all my friends. 

Farewell. Hal. 

hal's travels. 155 



I HAVE BOW been in Rome hard upon three weeks, 
and the time of my departure draws near. My duds 
are packed, and my passport vised for l^aples, and 
to-morrow morning I shall take my course along 
the Appian Way for that fair city. I shall remain 
there long enough to see N"aples and its neighbor- 
ing lions, and then, Ho for the Scripture lands of 
Egypt and Palestine ! I have a longing desire to 
look upon those holy scenes of which we read in 
Scripture, before my final departure from this " low 
ground of sorrow." 

My sojourn in Rome has been exceedingly plea- 
sant, and I leave it with regret, for I have not seen 
one half of the places and things of interest here 
and hereabouts. To see Rome as it ought to be 
seen and studied would require months. Sight- 
seeing is very much like work, and he who follows 
it well is apt to sleep well of nights. I do. The 
enjoyment I have had here has been greatly height- 
ened by an elderly gentleman who almost invari- 
ably accompanies me in my excursions. He is an 
original, and I cultivate him to the best of my 
ability. Will give you a little sketch of him : He is 

156 ual's travels. 

perhaps fiftA'-five or sixty years of age, but hale and 
active as a boy ; has a great deal more money than 
classical information, and knows more about " per 
cent." than the line arts ; has recently married him 
a young wife, and is in Europe on a bridal tour. Ilis 
wife being young, and very gay, prefers company of 
her own age and temper to that of her gray-headed 
lord. She will drive round the city with the dash- 
ing Captain Sucker, or the witty Major Squirt, while 
her antiquated worser-half contents himself to foot 
it with me. He good-naturedly lets her have her 
own way, and lets her have as much pin-money as 
she wants, which is no trifle, I assure you. She is 
ha^-iug two portraits of herself painted by the best 
masters of Rome, and her bust in marble, made by 
the greatest sculptor, besides a great number of ca- 
meo profiles. She objects to the old gentleman 
having his portrait painted, saying that none but 
classical faces should be put upon canvas. ITo 
meekly obeys her wishes. Dealers in pearls, dia- 
monds, and other fancy articles, will be sorry when 
she leaves Rome. 

Sometimes Mr. Smith (that is my old friend's 
name) and myself wander through long galleries of 
paintings and statuary, and it is not a little refresh- 
ing to hear the comments of the old gentleman upon 
celebrated works of art. The nude appearance of 
the figures shocks him greatly, and he is not back- 
ward in expressing his contempt for the vulgar tasto 
of the Romans. Upon viewing a statue of Yenus, 
a work of great celebrity, he thought the man who 


made it might liave been much, better employed. 
He was much surprised to see what he termed " de- 
cent-lookiug men and women" walking about 
through the gallery looking at the naked figures 
together. Said such things would not be allowed 
where he came from. Upon seeing a bronze figure 
of Pan, he was indignant. Said that was "run- 
ning the thing into the ground," to make a statue 
half man and half beast. We went one day to see 
the Dying Gladiator, a Grecian work of art much 
prized b}^ the Romans. Said he thought most any 
stone-cutter might hew out as good a thing as that. 
Upon looking at the celebrated painting of the 
Transfiguration, by Eaphael, said he thought it a 
" tolerable good 'photograph, but not better than Zeph 
Jones could draw." Told me that Zeph Jones had 
painted the pictures of his two daughters at home, 
which were "as like as could be." We went one 
day to see the ruins of ISTero's Palace. He seemed 
much interested in the exploration, and asked me 
who Nero was. Told him that Nero, according to 
the best information I could get, was a fiddler who 
used to play for the Roman Senators to dance. He 
said Nero must have been a very rich man for a 
fiddler ! When walking through St. Peter's upon 
one occasion, the old gentleman seemed to be deeply 
absorbed — dumfounded, in fact — and stood gazing 
up with his mouth and eyes wide open. I asked, 
"What do 3^ou think of this establishment, Mr. 
Smith ?" After shaking his head, looking wise, 
and pausing for about two minutes, he replied, " I 

158 ir A L ' S TRAVELS. 

think the man who got this up must have had con- 
siderable gumption !" I thought so too. lie don't 
see what " earthl}- use" the numerous pillars and 
columns are that stand in various parts of the c\ty, 
" with outlandish names on them." In answer to 
my question as to his opinion of the Coliseum, said 
he thought it a great waste of money to build such 
a thing. Two or three days ago the old gentleman 
expressed a desire to see the holy stsiircase up 
which the faithful Catholics crawl upon their knees. 
"We went to it, and, as usual, found many going up — 
ragged peasants, and ladies in silks and huge crino- 
lines, going up side by side, all alike devoutly kiss- 
ing the steps as they ascended. A mischievous lady 
of our party bantered my old friend, saying she 
would go up if he would, whereupon, to my utter 
astonishment, both started. But, unlike the devout 
worshippers, they did not pause upon each step to 
repeat a prayer, but rushed on as rapidly as they 
could go. In his anxiety to j^ass some tliat were 
ahead of him, the old man unwittingly i)lared his 
knee upon tlie crinoline of a devout Catholic lady 
just as she was raising her knee to make another 
step, which caused a tearing or breaking loose some- 
where about her skirts. She looked daggers at him, 
whereupon he quailed, and turned to (k'scend on his 
feet. This the attendant priest forbade, (the stairs 
are considered too holy to be profaned with the feet,) 
when he turned again andlinishcd the ascent slowly 
on his knees. IFe says it was very hard work. 
So you'seo upon the wliole I have had a good 



time witli Mr. Smitli, and I hate to leave Rome, on 
his account, as much as any thing else. 

Among the other lions of Rome, I have seen his 
Holiness the Pope, on various occasions. The first 
time I saw him was last Sunday week. I '11 tell 
you how it came about. I had understood the old 
gentleman was to officiate at Pligh Mass, in the Six- 
tine Chapel, connected with the Vatican Palace. 
At the proper hour I went over and stood in the 
long gallery, to watch the assembling of the cardi- 
nals, all of whom came in splendid gilded carriages, 
each with three footmen and a driver. "When they 
had entered, I followed them up the long stairway that 
leads to the chapel, between files of soldiers, having 
been first divested of my shawl, by a guard, at the 
foot of the stairs. On reaching the door at the chapel, 
I was stopped by two soldiers, and informed that I 
could not enter without a dress-coat. I thought it 
hard, but of course had to submit. Going down 
not in the best humor, I gathered up my shawl to 
start back to my hotel. The guard, seeing the cause 
of my discomfiture, proposed to remedy it, and fix 
me for my appearance before his Holiness, if I 
would give him a paul, (a dime.) I gave him the 
paul ; whereupon he proceeded to pin up my skirts 
so as to give me the appearance of having on a 
dress-coat. Thus fixed, I again ascended the stairs, 
and marched boldly in, just in time to hear the 
opening chant, which was as fine, if not the finest 
music I ever heard. Just after my entrance, his 
High-mightiness came in by a side door, accompa- 

160 ual's travels. 

iiied by officials, four of wlioiii were required to 
carry bis trail, 1 was mucb pleased witb tbe bland 
smile tliat rested upon bis face. Tbere seemed to 
be no lurking devil tbere, lie took bis seat, and 
bis attendants busied tbemselves wonderfully in 
arranging bis robes. Two cardinals tben lifted tbe 
bat from tbe Pope's bead ; two otbers got upon 
tbeir knees before bim, and beld up a large book, 
wbile auotber beld a ligbted candle before tbe 
pages for bim to read. He read in a clear, loud 
voice. Tben rose to bis feet, wben all tbe rest 
knelt down. He waved bis band, like sowing oats, to 
indicate tbat he was scattering blessings upon tbe 
kneeling multitude. After tbat, a velvet cusbion, witb 
gold fringe, was brougbt in by two cardinals, upon 
wbicb tbe Pope knelt, being assisted botb to get 
down and to rise, by bis attendants. During tbe 
service, a file of soldiers stood upon eacb side of 
tbe aisle, from tlie door nearly back to tbe bigh 
altar, armed witb spears and battle-axes, 

Tbe exbibition at St. Peter's, on Sunday, (Christ- 
mas day,) was splendid. I never before saw any 
display half so gorgeous. My friend Smith and 
myself concluded to take a carriage and ride over, 
(tbe Madam having engaged to go with Major 
Squirt.) After starting, we were informed tbat the 
hour for tbe cardinals to proceed to the church bad 
arrived, and tbat we could not cross the bridge over 
the Tiber until their carriages liad passed. We 
therefore bad to make a circuit of a mile to cross 
at another bridge. My old friend was wrathy, and 


boldly insinuated that if lie ever caught one of the 
d — d stuck-up cardinals in Boston, he'd make him 
shake for his presumption. 

We arrived at St. Peter's in time to see most of 
the cardinals arrive into the square before the 
church. It was a brilliant display. They came in 
their holiday coaches, which were gilded all over, 
and looked almost like they were made up of solid 
gold. A carriage a little less brilliant followed each 
of the cardinals, with his chaplain. The three 
servants that stood behind each of these carriages 
were rigged out in a style that would have made 
the most gaudily-dressed monkey envious. Regi- 
ments of French soldiers were on duty in front of 
the church, and scores of mounted police were gal- 
loping about in various directions. Upon entering 
the church, we walked between lines of soldiers 
extending a hundred yards from the door towards the 
interior. There were, perhaps, a thousand of them, 
equipped in a far liner style than I ever saw soldiers 
before. People poured into the building almost in 
one solid mass for nearly an hour, and yet it was 
not filled ! And with all that great crowd there 
was nothing like confusion. I was fortunate enough 
to get a good position near the altar, which I kept 
throughout the proceedings. At half-past ten 
o'clock cannons were fired from Castle Angelo, 
and then the Pope made his entree, seated in a 
chair, upon a platform borne upon the shoulders of 
twelve cardinals, while eight others supported a 
golden-fringed canopy over his head. They marched 

162 iial's travels. 

slowly from the door to the high altar, the holy father 
smiling aud scattering blessings upon the people as 
lie Aveut. I was within a few feet of him when he 
i:)assed, and was leaning against the railing of the 
altar Avhile he performed the ceremonies of consecrat- 
ing the bread and wine, etc., etc. So you see I had 
ample opportunity to scan his countenance. I really 
fell in love with him. To my liking. Pope Pius has the 
best face I ever saw. lie looks really motherly. But he 
is clay in the hands of the potter : a good man, per- 
haps ; but in the hands of villains, of whom Cardinal 
Antonelli is chief. The performance was similar to 
the one I had seen the Sunday before, except there 
was more display. The robes of the Pope and the 
cardinals were as rich as it is possible to make such 
things. The entire furniture of the altar was gold, 
studded with jewels. 

There is certainly no estimating the wealth of 
the Catholic Church. The man who has rolled in 
wealth and played with jewels all his life, in our 
republican country, will be overwhelmed with 
astonishment u])on coming to Rome. At the con- 
clusion of the Cln'istmas service in St. Peter's, the 
Pope was carried out as he was brought in, and the 
multitude dispersed to other churches ; for scenes 
of interest were kept up throughout the day at 
ditferent places of worship. 

No good Catholic is supposed to liave slept any 
in Home on ('hristmas eve night. The bells were 
ringing throughout the night, and exhibitions of 
some sort kept up at the principal cburclies. .There 

hal's travels. 163 

seems to be a sort of puppet-sliow rivalry between 
the churches here, to see which can draw the great- 
est congregations. They publish programmes, and 
invite the public to come and see their relics, etc., 
etc. For instance, the Church of St. Marcellus 
advertised, on Saturday, that they would get np a 
grand illumination that night, and regale the public 
with splendid music. Santa Maria Maggiore gave 
notice that at three o'clock in the morning they 
would have an illumination, and would exhibityto 
the public the identical manger in which the infant 
Saviour was laid in Bethlehem ; also a portrait of 
the Holy Virgin, painted by St. Luke. San Carlo 
announced a splendid wax-work representation of 
the Holy Virgin and infant Saviour in the stable 
with the cattle at Bethlehem. Ara Coela gave 
notice that the Bambino, the miraculous wooden 
baby which heals diseases and prevents accidents, 
would be on exhibition throughout the night. One 
of the churches — I do not remember which — was 
to exhibit the identical swaddling-clothes in which 
the Saviour was wrapped at his birth. At St. John 
Lateran the heads of the Apostles Panl and Peter 
were on exhibition. They are still exposed to the 
public view. Many other things were to be done 
at other churches. 

The San Marcellus being convenient, I concluded 
to patronize it. Went and stayed till one o'clock, 
and was horribly bored. Came home, and went to 
bed. The Santa Maria Maggiore failing to draw a 
crowd to witness their exhibition at three o'clock 

1(34 hal's travels. 

ill the morning, consented, "by earnest request," 
to repeat their performance at three o'clock Sunday 
evening. I went. The buikling is only second to 
St. Peter's in gorgeousncss, and perhaps third in 
size. It is very large. I presume there were from one 
thousand to iiftocn hundred tallow candles burning; 
but the illumination was dim. They had darkened 
the windows hardly enough to make the illumina- 
tion visible. I got a look at the manger, wliich is 
pr^eserved in a glass case. The portrait of the Iloly 
Vifgin, painted by St. Luke, is so dim that I could 
make nothing of it. This church is highly esti- 
mated in Home, on account of the miraculous cir- 
cumstance that caused it to be erected. It is said 
that a snow-storm once fell on the spot where it 
stands, and nowhere else in the city. The patch 
of snow that fell was just in the shape of a church; 
whereupon its erection was commenced imme- 
diately. There is a painting in the church repre- 
senting the workmen raking away the snow, to lay 
the foundation. 

Tlic Bambino at the Ara Ccola Church is on ex- 
hibition again to-day, and people are allowed to 
touch it gratis. 

I went to the church and catacombs of the Ca- 
puchins, the other day, and there saw the bones of 
perhaps a hundred thousand men — thirty or forty 
wagon-loads of them. They arc stacked in arches, 
and displayed in a thousand fantastic forms. Some 
skeletons are dressed in the monkish clothes they 
wore while living, and look hideous. Others arc 

hal's travels. 165 

dressed and laid in state, seeming to have been pre- 
served, by some means, from decay. They have 
dried, like a piece of beef. The walls are covered 
with festoons and rosettes, and other figures, made 
with bones; and the dismal abode is lighted by 
lanterns, curiously made by stringing bones toge- 
ther. Within this charnel-house there is an altar, 
at which every one who kneels is granted nine 
years' indulgence ; that is, they will be released 
from purgatory nine years sooner than they would 
otherwise be. I^one of our party availed themselves 
of the liberal offer. 

We made an excursion out on the Appian Way, 
the other day, and, among other things of interest, 
saw the catacombs of St. Sebastian, an extensive 
subterranean passage where the Christians formerly 
worshipped, and where their bodies were deposited 
during the time of their persecution by the Romans. 
In the church built over tfce entrance to these cata- 
combs, we saw, among other relics, one of the 
arrows with which the martyr St. Sebastian was 
shot," and the post to which he was tied. Their 
most highly-prized relic, however, is a stone in 
which are imprinted the tracks of our Saviour, 
made when he met St. Peter running away from 
Rome. The story is, that when the apostle was im- 
prisoned in Rome, he broke his prison, and escaped, 
one night. He by some means got out of the city 
gate, and started to make his escape along the 
Appian Way. At the spot where now stands this 
church, he was met by the Saviour, and told that 


he must return to Rome, and be crucified. He did 
so ; and when the Lord departed, he left his tracks 
deeply imprinted in the stone on which he stood. 
The}- arc about one inch deep. The priest showed 
us the stone and told us the story with the candor 
and simplicity of a child. 

If I were to tell you of all the relics I have seen, 
you would grow tired of reading. It is as strange as 
it is true, that men who have ideas above the brute, 
can believe in such absurd things. If I had come 
to liome a Catholic, I should leave it something 
else. The ignorance of the people is certainl}' the 
secret of the success of Catholicif^m. There is a 
church near my hotel, at the door of whicli the wind 
is said to be always blowing. A stoiy is told, that 
the devil and the wind were once promena<ling the 
streets together, when, coming to that church, the 
devil requested the wind to stop at the door, while 
he went in to worship. 'He has never come out, 
and the Avind still waits at the door for him. The 
ignorant people of the neighborhood cannot be in- 
duced to go into the church, except when a priest 
is present. They firmly believe that the devil is in 
it. Another superstition is, that the ghost of !N'ero 
still walks on Pincian Hill at night, and no one 
will go up there after nightfall. 

A large party of our American friends Averc pre- 
sented to the Pope, a few days ago, by Mr. Stock- 
ton, United States Minister. Friend Smith and 
myself, with several others, were on a (Hiuntry ex- 
cursion at the time, and lailed to be presented. 

iial's travels. 167 

Don't know, however, that we lost a great deal hj 
it. Mr. S. thinks we were fortunate. Those who 
were presented seemed to be much pleased with the 
manner in which they were received. Some kissed 
the hand of his Holiness, and some didn't. He 
made a pretty little talk to them. Expressed a 
great admiration for Americans. Said it was a 
great country, in one sense of the word, but could 
never become trul}^ great until the true faith was 
adopted there. He hoped the day would soon come 
when such should be the case. 

JSTow, if Italy — especially the Roman States — is a 
fair specimen of the "true greatness" that follows 
the adoption of the "true faith," I trust it will for 
ever be excluded from our beloved country. It is a 
most horrid thing. You have but little idea of the 
poverty, miser}-, and wretchedness of this country. 
All the wealth is in the hands of the Church, and, 
while the thousands of priests and other officials live 
in luxury, the common people are poor and miserable 
beyond conception. Were it not for the strangers 
who visit here, from whom they beg a pittance, 
many would starve. There is nothing here to give 
the people employment. I am told that throughout 
the entire Roman dominions there is not a solitary 
cotton or woollen manufactory, nor any other kind 
of manufactory worthy of the name. The streets 
are full of poor ragged wretches, who would work 
no doubt if they had any thing to do. They are 
compelled to beg, to keep soul and body together. 

168 hal's travels. 

The French soldiers who are stationed here, divide 
'their rations with the miserable creatures. 

And this is the "true greatness" his Holiness in- 
vites us to ! God forbid that America should ever 
accept the invitation ! 

Much fear of a revolution is felt here. Com- 
paratively few strangers are here now, on that ac- 
count. The people of the middle classes are very 
restive, and the slightest provocation would cause a 
rising of the masses. If the French troops were 
withdrawn, it is said the Vatican would be invaded 
in less than two hours, and certain rclbrms de- 
manded of his Holiness, the refusal of which would 
cost him his head. With all his pomp and display, 
the Pope is sitting upon the brink of a volcano — and 
he knows it. A few days ago, in one of the coffee- 
houses here, the portrait of the Pope was taken 
down, and that of Victor Emanuel i)ut up in its stead. 
One of the Imperial police ordered the picture taken 
down immediately, whereupon the coftee-house 
keeper politely requested the policeman to go to the 
d — 1. For such an act twelve months ago, the per- 
petrator would have been hurried off to prison and 
never heard of any more. Now, they dare not ar- 
rest him, for fear of a popular outbreak. 

I suppose this letter is nearly long enough. I 
have written rather at random, not having time to 
take pains, Ijccause there is so much to be seen. 
You see I have omitted the usual ''rigmarole" of 
letter-writers, about the ruins, galleries, etc., etc., 
because what I could write on those subjects would 


be but a rebasli of what you have read in books and 
newspapers from your youth up. I can say to you, 
however, that I have seen those things and enjoyed 
them extensively. To-day I stood by Pompey's 
statue, at the foot of which "Great Ceesar fell." A 
red place is on the leg and foot of the statue, which 
"they say" is the blood of Csesar. That is like 
other Roman traditions. 

I wrote the foregoing last night. Did not get off 
to ISTaples this morning. "We have understood that 
the road i§ infested with banditti, and ouy little 
party have determined to go by sea. Will remain 
here three days longer, and then take ship at that 
delightful city of Civita Vecchia. I am happy to 
inform you that my elderly friend Smith is going 
with us. I shall try to persuade him to go to Egypt. 
He says he is afraid if he stays in Rome his wife 
will break him by having "photographs" of herself 

Upon reaching ISTaples, the first place I go to shall 
be Mt. Vesuvius, for, as Pat said of the oyster, I 
shall "be afther looking into the cratur,'" after which 
I will drop you a line. Till then, farewell. 


170 hal's travels. 


R .M E . 

I VERILY believe that the most sedate donkey in 
all Italy (donkeys are the gravest of creatures in 
this country) would lose his gravity and compromise 
his dignit;)', in the presence of my good old friend 
Smith, I had made up my mind to write you a 
very grave letter to-night, and had actually com- 
menced one in the most dolorous strain, about the 
wails and sobs of the dying year — this being about 
the last hour of the last day of the last week of the 
last month of the good old year 1859. Yes, I had 
conjured up somewise sayings for the occasion, and 
wasjustonthe point of spreading m3'self on this 
most fruitful theme for would-be pathetic writers, 
when lo! who should enter but my venerable friend 
Smith, looking as much like the glrost of the de- 
parting year as it is possible for man to look. Ilis 
jaw was hanging low, and sadness peered from be- 
neath his shaggy brows. Deep trouble — almost de- 
spair — sat upon every lineament of his rubicund face. 
His usual sprightliness was gone, and I fancied that 
the crows-feet in the corners of his eyes were more 
deeply marked than I had ever seen them. Know- 


iDg Smitli as I have previously known liim — always 
lively and in the best humor in the world — his 
seriousness only appeared to me in a comic light, 
and I could not resist the inclination to laugh right 
out. He was greatly surprised at my rude merri- 
ment, and the surprise, added to his woe-begone look, 
redoubled the comicality of the scene, and I laughed 
the more. Burton would give all he's worth to be 
able to put on such a face. 

The old gentleman was in trouble, and had come 
in to unburden himself to me. His handsome young 
wife was in a pet. He said she was in one of her 
"tantrums," and had " her back up" furiously ; that 
she had been for four hours engaged, with the as- 
sistance of two maids, in packing her trunks for a 
start to Naples to-morrow morning, and that they 
were but little nearer packed now than they were 
four hours ago ; he had offered to assist her, but 
she spurned the offer, and had actually called him 
an "old fool," which he said was very near correct. 
Upon his attempting to pacif}^ her, she peremptorily 
ordered him out of the room. All this he told me 
"with a burst of confidence," but palliated her 
offence by saying that she was a "dear good crea- 
ture" when in a good humor. He thinks that she 
only lacks a little age and experience, which time 
will remedy. There was another source of griev- 
ance. The old gentleman had gone to a barber- 
shop to have his hair trimmed, late this evening. 
]^ot being able to speak Italian, he measured on his 
finger, and showed the barber how much he wanted 

172 hal's travels. 

taken oft", (about lialf an inch.) The barl)er, not fully 
comprehending his instructions, instead of cutting 
oiF half an inch, cut it ofl' to within half an inch of 
the scalp. He took oif his hat to show me how the 
villainous barber had served him, and I laughed 
immoderately — could n't help it — at the grotesque 
spectacle. His hair is of an iron-gray color, and 
very coarse, and each particular hair bristled straight 
out. Who could help laughing? But the deep sigh 
of the old man brought me back to my senses, and 
I sighed with him — especially when I thought of 
his domestic troubles. 

I spoke of these troubles as little petty annoy- 
ances to which every man was liable, and then did 
what I could to lead the mind of Mr. Smith to other 
things, which was not hard to do. We talked about 
what we had seen in Homo, and how we had en- 
joyed our sojourn and our many pleasant strolls 
among the ruins, and the great and splendid 
churches. He soon forgot the "tantrums" of Mrs. 
S., and actually laughed heartily at some of his own 
jokes, (he is fond of getting off jokes,) one of 
which I thought pretty good. We to-day visited 
the church of the Jesuits, to witness the closing 
ceremonies of the Christmas holidays. It is a rich 
church, and I asked him what he thought of it? 
Said he thought it "the best orqauiznf"' church we 
had seen in Rome. It contains five organs. That 
was the best witticism I ever knew Smith to get off. 
After getting in a thorough good humor, he pro- 
ceeded to empty his huge overcoat pocket of twenty 

hal's travels. 173 

or thirty pieces of marble and brick upon my table, 
saying that he wanted to show me some fine speci- 
mens he had picked up in his rambles, (for, like 
everybody else, he gathers relics.) I asked him if 
he knew where they all came from. Said he knew 
where some of them came from. Took up a beau- 
tiful piece of porphyry and asked where he got it. 
Did n't know. Asked him where a pretty piece of 
marble came from. Said he thought he got that 
from the tomb of the African we had visited a day 
or two ago. (He meant the tomb of Scipio Afri- 
canus.) Asked him where he got the piece of brick. 
Did not exactly remember the name of the place, 
but knew very well where it was : that great circular 
concern that stands just beyond the Forum — (the 
Coliseum.) As to the rest of his specimens, he 
knew not where they were from. All he cared for, 
he said, was to know that he had got them in Rome. 
I thought there was something even in that. 

After a chat of nearly two hours over our adven- 
tures in Rome, and our anticipated adventures in 
!N"aples, speculating upon the weather, and the pros- 
pect of a smooth sea to sail over to-morrow, my 
venerable friend gathered up his rocks and departed 
for his own room, saying, as a shade of melancholy 
passed over his face, that he hoped the madam had 
finished packing. Poor Smith ! A kinder-hearted 
man never trod the earth, but I fear he will never 
again know any thing of conjugal happiness. He 
is a good man, and, although he may not know how 
to keep a hotel, he is worthy of a better wife than 

174 II A L ' S T K A V E L S . 

the youito; giddy thing to wliom he is yoked. May 
she grow wiser and better ! 

I am again packed for XajVlos, and shall be otf to- 
morrow morning by rail for Civita Vecchia, where I 
shall again embark upon the deep blue sea. Since 
my last letter I have been employed in walking about 
the city, revisiting noted localities that I had seen 
before, and watchiuir the e^avetv of the Romans, who 
have seemed to enjoy the Christmas holidays to the 
fullest extent. The soldiers, the priests, and the po- 
lice put on clean shirts the lirst of the week, and 
have looked much more decent than usual. Even 
the monks (the privileged loafers of Rome) seemed 
to have scraped some of the grease and dirt from 
their filthy robes and friglitful hoods, and have act- 
ually.tricd to look respectable ; and the beggars have 
looked smart and good-humored all the week, and 
have been more exorbitant in their demands than 
before. Usually they only ask for " Mezzo biocho," 
(half a cent,) but this week they have confidently 
demanded a whole biocho. The principal churches 
have been all aglow since Sunday last, and most of 
their relics have been on public exhibition. The 
Avonderl'til IJamliino, the miraculous wooden baby, 
has been sliown every day, gratis, and the peasantry 
have flocked to see it by thousands. Many have 
been permitted to touch the sacred thing, and now 
no doubt feel secure against all accident or niisior- 

I have paid my last visit to the i'antlicon, the 
great structure which has stood whole and perfect 

1 hal'stravels. 175 

throughout so many ages. It was built man}- years 
hefore the birth of our Saviour, and now looks like 
it might weather a thousand more stormy w^inters. 
Its dome is the largest in the world. I have also 
seen for the last time the great wonder of the world, 
St. Peter's, the Coliseum, the Eoman Forum and 
its very interesting surroundings, the ruins of the 
palace of the Caesars, the Caraculla Baths, and the 
Arches of Septimus Severus and Titus, both of 
which have stood much longer than the Pantheon. 
Have again been in the house of the Apostle Paul, 
and in his prison. To all these things I have bid fare- 
well, sorry that I cannot remain longer in Rome to 
see and learn more of its antiquities. 

At half-past two o'clock to-day I went to the 
church of the Jesuits to hear the grand Te Deum, 
which closes the holidays. The music was heavenly. 
The proceedings were pretty much the same that I 
saw in St. Peter's on Christmas day, except that the 
Pope was not brought in on the platform with the 
canopy over his head, and the peacock-tails beside 
him. The old man walked in this time. He was 
brought to the church from his palace in a coach 
that looked like it might have been made of beaten 
gold, drawn by four black horses, followed by the 
coaches of his cardinals, and guarded by a regiment 
of soldiers. I thought it strange that the great in- 
fallible vicar of God should have to be thus guarded 
by the puny arm of man, not only in the street, but 
in the sanctuary ! But hark ! The clock is now 
striking twelve. The old year is bringing his last 

176 ual's travels. 

gasp. . . . The clock lias ceased ! 1859 is no 
more ! Rolled up as a worn garment, and laid away, 
to be brought forth no more till the great resurrec- 
tiou, when all things, both new and old, shall ap- 
pear I The new year is .before us, and it is meet 
that we enter upon it with clean hands : and that 
your correspondent may do his duty in that respect, 
he will cease scribbling for to-night, and go to bed, 
with a promise to write from Naples. 

Yours, as ever, Hal. 




In company witli many others, I left the " Eternal 
City" the morning of the first instant. Eriend 
Smith and the Madam were along. She was all 
smiles, and he was in raptures. He told me in the 
most confident manner that he really thought her 
"the dearest thing in the world;" that she had 
actually kissed him, the night previous, to heal his 
wounded feelings. The kiss melted him; and on 
the spot he promised her a splendid set of corals, 
as soon as they reached Naples. Said she had pro- 
mised never to call him an " old fool" again. Smith 
believes her, and is happy. May his happiness 
continue ! 

Two hours' ride on the rail brought us to that 
delectable sea-port mentioned in a previous letter — 
Civita Yecchia. The usual number of beggars and 
porters set upon us; but, being strong-handed, we 
fought them off. Smith broke his umbrella over 
the head of a big, greasy, red-capped fellow, and 
then fell into a cursing fit, which lasted for half an 
hour. After wandering over the town for an hour, 
we at length found the proper place — a filthy little 

178 H A L ' S TRAVELS. 

den — to get our passports rtWd; ■which done, wc 
made a vigorous charge, routed the enemy, and got 
to the wharf, and from there to the fine steamer 
Capitol, Avhicli lay in the bay. Steamed out of the 
bay at four o'clock, and took our course towards 
Naples. The sky was clear, the air was balmy, and 
the deep blue Mediterranean as calm and placid as 
a sleeping infant ; and to add to the pleasure of a 
night voyage, the "bright silver moon" was again 
abroad in the heavens. A little after sunrise on the 
following morning we entered' the world-renowned 
bay of Naples. As everybody who visits Naples 
has something to say about the beauty of its bay, 
the city and its environs, you will excuse me for 
omitting that part of the ceremony; only I will 
say that if any one should tell you that the pano- 
rama presented is not inrfedly beautiful, you may 
take it for granted that that person never saw the 
sight. A semi-circle of snow-white buildings, ex- 
tending ten or twelve miles along the margin of a 
placid bay, backed by an amphitheatre of bold 
mountains rearing back against the deep blue sky, 
with the smoky funnel of the terrible old Vesuvius 
in the midst, could not be any thing else than beau- 
tiful — could it ? 

Naples is a funny place. As soon as our steamer 
anchored in the bay, it was surrounded by a fleet 
of the funniest-looking boats, rowed by the most 
comical-looking men you ever saw, all wearing red 
oai)S, a hat bring a luxury thoy never asjtirc to. 
And then such a chattering, and such a jabbering, 

hal's travels. 179 

and sucli pantomimic exertions, offering their boats 
to take passengers ashore ! They were ahnost as 
vociferous as a bevy of JSTew York hack-drivers. 
After remaining on the steamer two hours, the 
police graciously gave ns permission to land ; 
whereupon we bundled ourselves into the funny 
-boats, and were rowed by the comical men to the 
custom-house, where the officers, in their funny 
little short-tail coats, and cunning little silver-laced 
caps, proceeded to dive most savagely into the bag- 
gage of every man who failed to slip a couple of pauls 
into their hands. Any thing can be smuggled into 
the port of ISTaples for two pauls, (twenty-two cents.) 
And here we are in ISTaples. What crowds of 
people, and how filthy they all look ! and such 
chattering and begging — and such poor, hungry- 
looking wretches ! Hard, gaunt poverty is here ! 
And yet, destitute and hungry as they look, 
they crack jokes and laugh with one another. 
Many are at work in the open streets, some making 
shoes, some spinning, some tinkering, and here and 
there an old woman, seated by a small kettle of 
coals, broiling fish, which she serves hot from the 
fire, to all who have the wherewith to pay for them. 
And merchants in every line are here, hawking 
their wares — apples, oranges, figs, maccaroni, cakes, 
pies, bread, nuts, etc., etc. — all 3'elling at the top of 
their voices, praising their own merchandise. Babel 
was a small affair, as far as confusion is concerned, 
compared to ISTaples. And here go the donkeys, 
(the donkey is one of the institutions of this city, 

180 hal's travels. 

and the owner of a donkey is considered a respect- 
able property-holder,) the least imaginable crea- 
tures, carrying loads of the most prodigious size. 
Here goes one with a load of vegetables, enough to 
load a two-horse wagon, and there goes one under 
a mound of hay. You see nothing but his ears. 
Another, with a load of wood. And here comes a 
little fellow, trotting merrily along, jingling his 
bells, drawing a two-wheeled carriage with ten 
burl^' men and a slouchy woman. As to carrying 
burdens and drawing loads, the donkey is all in all, 
here. I say again, ISTaples is a funny city. It is a 
large city — second to none in Europe, except Lon- 
don and Paris ; well built, with the houses reaching 
from four to six stories high, and is, withal, as filthy 
as any four cities I ever saw, leaving out the old 
part of Home. I have not yet been able to count 
the number of odors here ; but I think there nmst 
be several hundred "well-defined stinks." But let 
me not be understood as condemning the whole of 
Naples. There arc decent places. One long, broad 
street (don't remember its name) is filled with rich 
and brilliant shops, reminding one of Paris; and 
one or two others are passable, while the King's 
Garden, which stretches along the bay, is one of the 
most beautiful promenades I over saw. 

Our first excursion after reaching Naples, was to 
the resurrected city of Pompeii. It is much more 
extensive than I expected to find it. It is perfectly 
wonderful to sec a great city brought again to light, 
aftei- being buried and its site forgotten for more 

hal's travels. 181 

thau seventeen hundred years. Two-tMrds of the 
city yet remain buried ; but the part discovered 
shows it to have been a city of much beauty. It 
must have been very old at the time of its destruc- 
tion ; for the solid stone-paved streets are deeply 
worn with carriage-wheels. The remains of gor- 
geous palaces, two large theatres, and an amphi- 
theatre capable of seating twenty-five thousand 
people, besides hundreds of shops and other houses, 
have been exhumed. The Villa of Diomedes was 
a very grand building, and in the large wine-cellar 
beneath it still remain the wine-jars, just as they 
were left the day the city was engulfed. The 
house of Caius Sallust is one of the largest that has 
been discovered. The floor of every house is of 
the finest mosaic ; finer than any modern mosaics I 
have seen. Almost every street corner was supplied 
with a fountain. But it is useless for me to try to 
tell you about Pompeii in a letter. Its immersion 
and resurrection are known already to every intelli- 
gent reader. Before visiting Pompeii, my friend 
Smith thought it was a humbug, gotten up by the 
Neapolitans to get money out of travellers. He is 
now satisfied that it is no humbug. We spent a 
day walking about its solitary streets. 

But little of Herculaneum has yet been disco- 
vered. It lies buried in lava that is harder than 
limestone, forty feet beneath the surface, and an- 
other town now stands above it. We saw all of it in 
an hour. The theatre is the most important building 
discovered. It is of immense size. Herculaneum 

188 hal's travels. 

will for ever remain a hidtlen mystery ; for it cannot 
be exhumed without destroying the city that stands 
above it ; and that wouldn't pay. 

We spent one day in the Museum where the 
things found at Pompeii and Herculaneum are kept. 
There is much fine statuary, both in marble and 
bronze ; also household utensils of every descrip- 
tion. It is intensely interesting to look upon these 
relics, which are nearly two thousand years old. 
Loaves of bread, baked so long ago, are exhibited, 
with the name of the baker stamped upon them. 

Yesterday seems to have been the day pitched 
upon by nearly every American in Naples (twenty- 
nine in number) to visit Mount Vesuvius. All, 
with one accord, met at Racina, the town which 
stands above the submerged Herculaneum. That 
is the place from which the ascension begins. Our 
debut into the village was hailed with a shout of 
gladness by the proprietors of donkeys, and all 
their friends. It was a holida}', and the people 
were all idle ; therefore the crowd which surrounded 
us was immense. Every nnui, or at least every 
nian's friend, had a donkej' to hire ; and each man 
did his level best to talk louder than liis neighbor 
in praise of his own or his friend's donkey. They 
quarrelled and cursed each other, and crowded 
about us in such a manner that we seemed in immi- 
nent danger of being trodden under foot. Finally, 
after an immense amount of hard swearing and 
scuffling among the donkey men, twenty-nine of 
the diminutive creatures wu re saddled and mounted 


by twenty-nine Americans — nearly an equal num- 
ber of ladies and gentlemen. Every donkey must 
needs have a driver, and here a battle ensued 
among the hojs as to who should go as drivers. 
The stoutest soon fanned out the less muscular, 
and the conquerors took their places beside the 
donkeys. At the word of our guide, we started off, 
single file, in a brisk trot. The ladies not being 
used to such a mode of locomotion, were fright- 
ened; and some of them set up a succession of 
those interesting little screams peculiar to such of 
the " dimity institution" as scream at the sight of a 
lizard or a toad. The donkeys, in response, set up 
a braying, and this, added to the cries and shouts 
of the men, women, and children that lined the 
way on either side, created a noise and confusion 
hardly surpassed by a mob at a JSTew York muni- 
cipal election. Friend Smith says he never saw or 
heard the like before ; and Smith is an old man. 

A ride of an hour and a half brought us to the 
foot of the cone, the place where the donkeys must 
be left, and from which those who would look into 
the crater must exercise their powers of climbing. 
It is a serious undertaking, and those who have not 
good muscles and stout boots had better not under- 
take it. Of the twenty-nine who started up, only 
nine reached the summit. Your correspondent was 
one of the nine. The twenty contented themselves 
with going to the lower crater, a new one that has 
not been long in existence. The lava is pouring 
out of it in a fine large stream. I lighted my pipe, 


and smoked beside the great stream of liquid fire. 
Getting to the summit was about as hard an hour's 
work as I ever did. Two ladies of the i^artj suc- 
ceeded in getting up. AVhat we saw of the crater 
was — nothing ! "We walked along the brink of what 
seemed a great "jumping-oif place," but the smoke 
was so dense we could not see twenty feet down. 
The fumes of sulphur were so strong that we could 
not remain near the brink of the opening more than 
half a minute at a time. 

The funniest part of the business was coming down 
the mountain, running, jumping, rolling, tumbling, 
and sliding down the steep cone in the ashes. I en- 
joyed the fun so much that I was really sorr^- when 
the base was reached. 

Without being tedious, I will merely say that we 
returned to our donkeys, and wended our way back 
to Racina, finishing the descent by moonlight. Got 
back to our hotel in Naples about 8 o'clock, having 
been occupied eleven hours in the excursion. 

But does it pay ? Much as a bargain. It don't 
more than pay, although it may be about a fair trade. 
You are perhaps compensated for the labor of going 
up, by the fun of coming down. Certain, you do 
not see enough to make it a paying business. The 
most interesting part of the day's excursion to mo 
was the row among the donkey men and boys at 
Racina, and the start from that place. It was rich. 

Smith says he nov'cr until now believed the story 
about burning mountains. He 's satisfied. 

On Tuesday next I leave this funny city of Naples 


for Egypt and Palestine. There will be fourteen in 
the party — all Americans. We sail first to Malta, 
then to Alexandria, and thence to Grand Cairo. 
Expect to go up the Mle, and see much of the 
country once ruled by the Pharaohs. Shall look 
with deep interest upon the places once inhabited 
by the Israelites, while in bondage under the tyran- 
nical Egyptians. Will go to the place where they 
crossed the Red Sea when led out by God under the 
direction of Moses, and where Pharaoh and his host 
were drowned. After that we shall go to Jerusalem 
and many other parts of the Holy Land, about which 
I will write you after I have seen them. 

I am sorry to leave Kaples so soon. There are 
many pleasant excursions in the neighborhood I 
would like to make. Besides, it is a pleasant place 
to stop. Living is fine; plenty of macaroni, and 
an abundance of goats' and asses' milk. The milk- 
merchants here, instead of carrying their milk round 
in tin vessels, as in some other cities, go to the 
houses of their customers with a flock of goats 
bleating at their heels, and milk them in the houses 
of those who buy. This insures to the purchaser 
pure, unadulterated milk. This is sensible. 


P. S. — Glorious news ! Madam Smith has made 
up her mind to go to Egypt, and so I shall not be 
so suddenly deprived of the company of my good 
friend Smith. He does not want to go ; but that is 
nothing. The madam has made up her mind ! He 

186 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

has just been in to tell me about it. His face is 
rather clougated this evening. 

We commit ourselves again to the vasty deep on 
Tuesday, the 10th. 


hal's travels. 18^ 



If you knew the difficulties which surround your 
correspondent at this time, you would certainly 
appreciate this effi3rt of his to write you a letter. 
He is seated in a very narrow little state-room, 
two by six feet, on board one of the most dimi- 
nutive steamers that ever attempted the voyage 
across the Mediterranean, his knees and the back 
of a book doing the duty of a writing-desk. He 
is doing his level best to maintain a perpendicular, 
but evidently fails, as is seen by his head coming in 
contact, first with the berth on the one side, and the 
wall on the other, caused by the masterly efforts of 
the little steamer to mount the ponderous waves so 
peculiar to the middle of the Great Sea. Still, not- 
withstanding the waves, and the nausea produced 
thereby, he persists, determined to get off an epistle 
of some sort, which, under the circumstances, you 
cannot expect to be either long or brilliant, 

"A life on the ocean wave" will do well enough 
to talk about, and is a pretty thing when well sung 
with a good accompaniment, but a life on the 
ocean wave in reality is not the thing it is cracked 

188 hal's travels. 

up to be. The " flashing brine, the spray, and the 
tempest roar" are sublime things, in the distance, 
suggestive of an}^ amount of poetry, but, upon a 
familiar approach, the poetry vanishes like a thing 
of air. To those who love good dinners and quiet 
stomachs thereafter, I would say, " Go not down to 
the sea in ships." I say this from experience, having 
been for the past four days riding upon the raging 
billows of the deep blue sea, where sharks do swim, 
and monsters of the vasty deep do congregate. 

Four days ago we glided out of the beautiful 
Bay of Naples, with as clear a sky and as smooth 
a sea as heart could wish. Our little party rejoiced 
with exceeding gladness at the prospect of a plea- 
sant voyage to the land of the Pharaohs. Song and 
merriment were kept up on board the ship through- 
out the day, and until a late hour at night. My 
friend Smith was in ecstasies, and even his hand- 
some young wife condescended to entertain the com- 
pany with "Annie Laurie" and the "Prairie Flower," 
which she sang to perfection, accompanied with the 
guitar. Smith told me he thought her voice an- 

Early the next morning we found ourselves in the 
strait, and opposite the city of Messina, on the 
picturesque island of Sicily. Ilere our ship stopi)cd 
four hours, giving us time to "do up" Messina. 
Without entering into any description of this city, 
I will only say that it is a second edition of Naples 
on a small scale, very handsome at a distance. 

About the time we sailed from Messina, the 

hal's travels. 1S9 

lieavens became dark, and in an hour the wind 
blew great guns, lashing the sea into foaming bil- 
lows, while the rain came down in torrents. Our 
little steamer reared and pitched like a little dog in 
high oats, riding the great waves like a thing of life. 
The passengers were all huddled together in the 
saloon, and the most sober stillness prevailed. A 
more grave and serious company I never saw, ex- 
cept Smith, who boasts that he is never sea-sick. 
A joke under such circumstances I thought really 
barbarous — in very bad taste, to say the least — but 
Smith persisted in getting off two or three of the 
most shocking kind, which, however, nobody 
laughed at but himself. The vomiting brought 
about by the agitation of the waters, he heartlessly, 
called "casting up accounts," and laughed at it as 
a joke. But the merriment of Mr. Smith was soon 
brought to an abrupt termination, for the illness of 
Mrs. S. became very violent. She heaved and 
groaned in great agony. Said she thought she 
would die. Smith became earnest, and told her 
not to think of such a thing. She declared she 
would die. Smith begged her not to do so. She 
asserted roundly and positively that she would not 
live half an hour, when Smith cried — called her his 
sweet angel, and begged her in the most piteous 
tones, for his sake, and for the sake of a future 
generation of Smiths, to live. His earnest persua- 
sions overcame her, and she lived. This affecting 
scene caused many of us to forget our own sickness 
for the time, but it returned in time to remind us 

190 n A L ' S TRAVELS. 

that the storm was still raging. Towards ten o'clock 
at night the violence of the storm was spent, but the 
sea continued rough enough to keep up the sickness 
most of the night. AVe tliought many times during 
the night, of the storm that raged on these same 
waters, some eighteen hundred years ago, when the 
Apostle Paul was making his voyage across the 
Mediterranean, an account of which may be found 
in the 27th and 28th chapters of the Acts of the 
Apostles. Early the next morning we entered the 
harbor of Malta, the place where the apostle and 
liis company were shipwrecked. The bay where 
the wreck occurred is still called St. Taul's Bay. 
Malta is a large and pretty city — one of the cleanest 
cities I ever saw — and to show the intense passion 
of the people for cleanliness, they trj- to clean every- 
body who goes there out of their cash. For instance, 
a party of us went ashore and took breakfast at a 
hotel — a very small breakfost, consisting of eggs and 
coffee — for which we paid seventy-live cents each. I 
desired to lay in supplies there for my Egyptian tour, 
but found the prices too liigh for every thing but 
tobacco. I shall always have some respect for Malta 
for Itirnishing me a good article of chewing-tobacco 
cheai) — the first T have found this side of New York. 
The luxury of chewing-tobacco is uidcnown in other 
portions of Europe ; and I advise all those who are 
fond of masticating the weed, to bring as much with 
them when they come over as they can conveniently 
smuggle in. Otherwise they will fare but middling. 
At twelve o'clock yesterday wo sailed from Malta. 


Sea comparatively smootli. Most of tlie invalids 
were sunning themselves on deck. Some got quite 
lively, and a song could occasionally be heard. We 
were a mixed company, consisting of Americans, 
(who predominated, there being fourteen of us,) 
French, Italians, Greeks, Maltese, Germans, and 
Turks. We have all languages, and a variety of 

An incident occurred late in the afternoon, worth 
mentioning, perhaps. Madam Smith had so far re- 
covered as to be able to get upon deck. She looked 
charmingly pale and interesting, and came up smil- 
ing like an aurora. As she walked across the deck, 
the ship brought a sudden lurch just as her foot 
came in contact with a coil of rope, which threw the 
unfortunate lady flat upon her face, and at the same 
instant a spanking breeze came whisking along, and 
in the rudest manner took unmentionable and un- 
warrantable liberties with her crinoline, and 

But some scenes are indescribable, and others are 
not proper to be described. I will only say that the 
charming and innocent Madam S. retired to her 
state-room, and has not been seen since the sad 
catastrophe. Mr. Smith informs me that the occur- 
rence has had a most shocking effect upon the 
Madam's nerves. 

This is the fourth day of our voyage. We sailed 
in sight of the coast of Africa all the forenoon to- 
day. An hour or two ago the pilot pointed out to 
me a dim speck in the distance, which he said was 
Crete. That is the island where I think the Apostle 

102 hal's travels. 

Paul wanted to stop and winter, when sailing over 
this sea. The sea is pretty rough, and with your 
permission I will stop writing now, and liuish at 
some future time. 

Sunday, Jan. 15. — We are sailing this evening 
over a tolerably quiet sea, though it was rough 
enough this morning. At breakfast it was an- 
nounced that we would have preaching in the saloon 
at 11 o'clock. (We have three iN'ew England 
preachers in our party — all of whom are of the 
" immortal three thousand.") "When the hour ar- 
rived, only seven of us, including the preacher, as- 
sembled at the place of worship, the rest having 
suddenly relapsed into sea-sickness. The preacher 
read the 27th chapter of Acts, and after we had 
sung some old familiar hymns, he delivered a most 
excellent discourse from the text, "If God be for us, 
who can be against us?" !N^othing unusual has oc- 
curred to-day. "We are promised a sight of Alex- 
andria to-morrow morning, and I shall certainly 
hail the sight with gladness. Yours, etc., 


hal's travels. 193 



And so I am in Egypt — the land into which 
Joseph was sold as a slave — the land of the Pha- 
raoh's — the land of the bondage of the children of 
Israel — the land of Moses and of Aaron, and the 
land once cursed with ten plagues. I am in the 
ancient city of Alexandria, built by Alexander the 
Great more than three hundred years before the 
birth of our Saviour. It was in a ship of Alexandria 
that Paul sailed to Rome. 

Our debut into this city was funny enough. It 
was early on Monday morning our ship anchored in 
the bay. By the time the anchor reached the bot- 
tom we were surrounded by a multitude of boats, 
and no less than a hundred bare-legged, shirt-tailed, 
turbaned Turks and Egyptians, and about half that 
number of loose-trowsered brigandish-looking crea- 
tures, were mounting up the sides and tumbling 
into our ship upon every quarter, I thought Naples 
was some for noise and confusion, but it was nothing. 
Then there was a scramble for the baggage. Every 
yellow-skinned dog that could lay his hands on an 
article of baggage seized it, and was for lugging it 

194 hal's travels. 

into his boat, thinking thereby to secure the owner 
of the article for a passenger to the shore. I held 
on to my carpet-bag, but had to use my stick freely 
to keep the creatures from tearing it away from me. 
Smith cursed and swore like a madman, and vowed 
he would shoot a score of the scoundrels, but un- 
fortunately his revolver was locked up in his trunk, 
and his trunk gone he knew not where. The 
Madam was awfully frightened, and for a time 
threatened to go into a tit. I assisted in restoring 
lier by procuring from the steward a little brandy 
and water — a wonderful medicine to promote cour- 
age. Smith finally found his trunk in the boat of a 
big-bearded fellow, who said he had taken it from 
a thief who was running off with it. Smitli gave 
him a shilling for rescuing his trunk, and took pas- 
sage with him. The big-bearded fellow was the 
rogue who had taken the trunk at first, and then 
invented the lie to ward off the anger of the owner, 
and to get the shilling for his honest)/. The hotel- 
runners were out in force, and pitched into us with 
as much earnestness as the boatmen. Each one 
praised his own hotel, and did what he could to 
disparage his rivals'. As ours is a large party, we 
had a good deal of fun in receiving bids. Finally 
wc accepted the ofier of the proprietor of the Hotel 
des Indies, where we have fared well (for Egypt) for 
two days. 

This is a strange country. Every thing is so en- 
tirely dificM'ont from what I have seen in America 
and Europe, that I have gazed and wondered with 


admiration continually. The flowing trowsers, 
quaint coats and mantles, picturesque turbans and 
Fez caps — and then to see all the burdens carried 
upon camels, instead of wagons — goat-skins of 
water carried upon asses — all so strange ! Unlike 
our country and Europe, the fashions and manners 
of the Asiatics never change. They are the same 
now that they were in the da^'s of Abraham. Few 
people walk here. Everybody rides the donkey. 
They stand ready saddled in great herds at nearly 
every corner. I have been on the back of one of 
the nimble little creatures almost continually, since 
my arrival. ISTearly all of our party have done the 
same. Our first jaunt was to Pompey's Pillar, 
which stands about a mile out, then to Cleopatra's 
Keedles, to the Catacombs, to the ruins of Ancient 
Alexandria — everywhere. Riding is cheap, and we 
ride to every place. "We go in a gallop nearly all 
the time, both ladies and gentlemen. It is rare 
fun, and no mistake. Every donkey has a driver 
to follow, with a stick. We have a donkey and a 
driver a whole day for two shillings. "We get the 
worth of our money, and I am sure they earn all 
they get. The long-legged drivers wear nothing in 
the world but long shirts, and can run all day. There 
are twelve of us who usually ride out together ; and 
to see us go dashing at full speed through the streets, 
with twelve drivers yelling at our heels, makes the 
quiet old Mussulmans stare with no little surprise. 
I guess they thiuk the Americans are strange crea- 

196 ual's travels. 

turcs. My friend Smith saj's lie is sorry lie did not 
come to Egypt sooner. Had no idea it was such a 
funny place. Ho curses the d — d barbarians for 
dressinj^ in such outlandish style, and is not a little 
shocked at the practice of covering up the faces of 
the women, all but the eyes. He swears he will 
take an Egyptian donkey home with him. "Wants 
to ride a camel ; but we persuade him to wait till 
we reach Grand Cairo, for which city we leave to- 

Alexandria contains about 80,000 inhabitants. 
The houses don't seem to be built in any particular 
form, but seem to be thrown together at random — 
roofs all flat, and in the Turkish part of the town 
are seldom more than one story high. The houses 
are much better, and the streets are of a respectable 
width in the Frank part of the city. People of all 
nations, nearly, live here — Turks, Greeks, Assy- 
rians, Maltese, Europeans, Nubians, etc., etc. 

We have been bosct with a horde of dragomans 
ever since our arrival, desiring the job of carrying 
us up the Wi\e, or anywhere else we may choose to 
go. We have not got our route full}' determined 
upon yet. AVe may go from Cairo first to Mount 
Sinai, or we may go up the Nile. It is too early for 
our travels in Talestine. We will determine upon 
a route when we reach Cairo. 

Smith says he is glad he came to Eg3'pt, because 
there are no noted painters or sculptors here. Ho 
knows that Mrs. S. would be sitting for more pic- 

hal's travels. 


tures of herself, if slie could find a painter. He 
sajs he knows she will want to take a camel home 
with her. 

In my rides around here I notice hundreds of 
Bedouins' tents scattered about over the barren 
sand hills. They look quite primitive and pic- 
turesque. The Bedouins are a filthy, lazy people, 
and many of them, I observe, wear nothing but a 
piece of old shirt, and others are in a state of 
nature. Don't know how they live. A whole 
family will possess nothing in the world but a tent 
and the few rags they have on their backs. The 
poorest people in our country are wealthy, compared 
to these poor wandering creatures. 

I had almost forgotten to tell you that we paid a 
visit to the Pasha's Palace to-day. It is the neatest 
and most luxurious establishment I have seen, 
though not near so large nor imposing as many of 
the palaces of Europe. We were required to leave 

198 hal's travels. 

our shoes at the door, and were fiiriushcd with 
slippers. The Pasha is not here at present. lias 
gone up to Cairo. We were not admitted into the 
Harem, the palace of the Pasha's wives, which 
stands opposite the one we entered. 

I would write a longer letter, but the mosquitoes 
and fleas are working upon me terribly. 

Yours, etc., IIal. 





A "WISE man has said that " mucli study is a wea- 
riness of the flesh." Such being the fact, I shall 
drop you a few disjointed sentences, gotten up with 
the very smallest amount of study ; for, in this de- 
bilitating climate, it takes an industrious man 
indeed to concoct a studied epistle. You must 
remember your correspondent is now in Africa, a 
country in which industry is a rank stranger, and 
likely to remain so. 

'Now, for convenience, and as I am too lazy to 
tell you every thing, suppose you imagine yourself 
with me in my journeyings since the date of my 
last letter, which was, I believe, from Alexandria. 
Leaving the Hotel des Indies on the morning of 
the 18th inst., we wend our way through the 
narrow, dirty streets of that city, in the queerest 
omnibus that civilized man ever saw. An omnibus 
does not accord with our notions of Eastern loco- 
motion, where camels, dromedaries, and asses have 
reigned supreme ever since Ham and his progeny 
peopled the land of Egypt. We are surprised to 
see an omnibus. But hark ! "What familiar sound 

200 iial's travels. 

is that? A locomotive whistle, as I live! And is 
it possible, you ask, that we have to go to Cairo by 
mere railroad ? It is even so, my friend ; for a rail- 
road has found its way into Egypt ; and as it is the 
best we can do, we must put up with it. Terrible 
bore ! But here we are, at the depot. "We buy our 
tickets, or rather ]\Ir. Smith buys them for us ; for, 
as he is a sharp man to drive a trade, we have 
elected him treasurer and captain of our party. He 
i:^ proud of his position, and s^iares no pains to ren- 
der satisfaction. We travel as one family, and have 
all our bills in common, which Mr. Smith inva- 
riably disputes and higgles over until they are 
reduced from ten to twenty-live per cent. lie 
saves us much expense by his shrewdness. You 
observe that our leader has brought to the aid of 
his dignity a uniform well becoming a bold captain. 
At Malta he bought a few yards of gold lace and a 
military cap. The lace he has had sewed upon his 
pants, upon his shoulders, and a strip around his 
cap. Shining gilt buttons also adorn his coat. lie 
is quite an officer in appearance, and acts his part 
to admiration. He says that a friend of his in 
Boston told him that if he ever visited Egy}it or 
Spain, ho must don the military dress, to inspire 
awe in the natives. lie has followed the advice, 
not only in dress, but in his noble bearing. Smith 
we all consider indispensable. 

But the bell rings, and wo are off for Grand 
Cairo — Cairo the magniliccnt — Cairo the Victorious. 
Here we go, whizzing through the delta, up the 

hal's travels. 201 

valley of the iSTile ; the richest country, perhaps, in 
the world. The whole country, you see, is inter- 
sected with canals, and at every bound we see 
machines for raising water, to irrigate the soil. 
'We pass by numerous villages embowered in groves 
of palm trees. But for the palms, these villages 
would be the most desolate, forlorn-looking places 
we ever saw ; for they are composed of nothing but 
mud huts, covered with cornstalks or straw. The 
inhabitants are miserable-looking creatures, many 
of them half naked. There is a ghastly sameness 
about all these villages — and people. Kearly the 
whole face of the earth is green with crops of luxu- 
riant wheat and clover, with here and there a 
familiar-looking cotton-field. And now cast your 
eyes over the beautiful plain upon the left. It is 
exceeding fair to look upon ; " the best of the land 
of Egypt;" and the numerous flocks and herds 
you see before j^ou, tell you that you are viewing 
the land of Goshen. This is the country that 
Pharaoh gave to the patriarch Jacob, and his sons. 
It is still good for cattle. 

Seven hours' run, and the domes and minarets of 
the mosques of the capital of Egypt rise before us. 
That is Grand Cairo, the pride of Egypt, and one of 
the largest cities of the East. At four o'clock we 
halt at the depot, and here we again find those hor- 
rible evidences of European or American encroach- 
ment — omnibusses — and, what is still more horrible, 
we find a multitude of hotel "drummers." We 
don't like this. It is not the feast we were invited 

202 iial's travels. 

to. AVe came to the East to find eastern manners 
and customs, but instead of that we are actually met 
by men wearing coats and bats, and, what is worse, 
addressed in plain English ; and, even worse than 
that, importuned to go to Shepherd's Hotel, and Wil- 
liams's Hotel ! Think of that, will you ! " Shepherd" 
and ""Williams" keeping hotel in Grand Cairo! 
Romance is knocked into the middle of next week ! 

Our party is now permanently reduced to twelve, 
just enough to till an omnibus. Smith drives a bar- 
gain with the conductor, and we despairingly get 
into the lumbering vehicle, with a determination to 
visit all the hotels, and stop at the one that will take 
us on the best terms. "We go first to Shepherd's, 
and while Captain Smith (I must give liim his title) 
is chafioring with the landlord about the price, a 
half-blind, half-naked Arab comes up to the side of 
the omnibus with matches to sell. I take a 
box, and give the fellow a rupee to change, (half a 
dollar.) In five seconds my rupee, in company with 
the Arab and his basket of matches, is out of sight. 
I jump out and follow in vain. He is at least a 
quarter of a mile away. The villainous idlers and 
shirt-tail donkey-boys about the hotel laugh at my 

"Wq leave Shepherd's and drive to four or five 
other hotels, and finally make a satisfactory bargain 
with the landlord of the Hotel d'Orient, where we 
nnpack and settle down for a season. Capt. Smith 
did Ji^mself great credit in beating the hotel-keeper 
dowh in his price, lie contends that as we take 


lodgings by wholesale, we ought to have them at 
wholesale prices. Yery right. 

So here we are in Cairo, surrounded with drago- 
men, all wanting employment. We are besieged 
and set upon by swarms of them. We all shake 
them off, and send them to Capt. Smith. All these 
dragomen have something less than a peck of cer- 
tificates each, which they expect us to read, and 
Smith reads them. 

And now another morning has dawned. Having 
had a night's rest, we will sally forth and see the 
city. We desire to walk, but the crowd of donkeys 
waiting at the door is evidence that we are expected 
to ride. We muster our forces, and, with the cap- 
tain in advance, make a gallant charge towards the 
open street, but the donkey-boys about the door are 
too many for us. We retreat ingloriously. Eally 
and make another charge, but our repulse is more 
signal than at first. The donkej's have been rein- 
forced. We hold a council, and determine to break 
through at all hazards. The captain shouts, flour- 
ishes his shillaleh, and, with the vigor of Peter Mc- 
Graw at Donnybrook Fair, makes a bold rush, fol- 
lowed by us all in solid column : knocks down two 
Arabs, and nearly punches the eye out of a third, 
but all to no purpose. The column of donkeys and 
donkey-boys is impenetrable. We hold another 
council, and capitulate. Twelve donkeys are imme- 
diately hired, and a few minutes after, twelve Am- 
ericans, eight gentlemen and four ladies, are gallop- 
ing at full speed through the narrow streets of Cairo, 

204 hal's travels. 

followed by twelve Arab boys whose vociferous yells 
keep the road before us clear. Their yells arc in- 
cessant, and interpreted would be something like, 
" O old man ! O virgin ! get out of the way ! on the 
right ! on the left ! look to your bare feet ! These 
Americans come, they come, they come ! Stand 
not in the way, O ye children of the true faith !" 
We make for the citadel — a powerful fortress on a 
hill overlooking the city. It was into this citadel 
that Mohammed Ali Pasha inveigled the jMania- 
lukes and had them massacred. "Within the citadel 
is the Pasha's Palace, and the finest mosque in the 
cit}'. "We take off our shoes and enter, and sec the 
faithful prostrating themselves with their faces to- 
wards Mecca. "We now walk to the edge of the 
wall of the fortress and look or.t upon the scene 
below. Is it not magniticcnt ? The city from here 
looks beautiful, for the numerous ponies and grace- 
ful minarets look very picturesque. If Cairo could 
onl}' be seen from here, we should call it a city of 
great beauty; but ■when we enter the narrow, filthy 
streets, and are continually jostled byjoaded don- 
keys, and camels, and miserable sore-eyed people, 
we desire to be somewhere else. Few of the streets 
are wide enough to admit carriages. But from the 
walls of the citadel we sec none of this hideonsness. . 
All is fair and comely. Now look away ofi" to the 
west. Is not that a picture ? There is nothing to 
l)0uud the vision. You see the great river Nile 
come winding down between its green banks for 
many, many miles, dotted with hundreds of sail- 



, boats. Now look across twelve miles in the south- 
west. There are the Pyramids of Ghezeh, just as 
you have seen them in pictures all your life. They 
look perfectly natural — -just exactly as you expected 
to see them. Don't old Cheops loom up proudly ! 
.Does not seem to be more than two or three miles 
off, but it is twelve. "Wonderful pile ! "We will go 
and take a nearer view of it some day, so be pa- 

But come, let us return to our hotel. We must 
hold a general council this evening. One portion of 
our party have got their heads set towards Mount 
Sinai, and the rest of us desire a trip up the 'Nile. 
It is time a decision was come to. Three "highly 
respectable gentlemen" of most villainous aspect 
have kindly tendered their services to conduct us 
across the desert to Sinai. They are true descend- 
ants of Ishmael. 

But look! Here comes a wedding -procession. 
Two old fellows lead it, beating something like rude 
drums ; immediately behind them is the bride, closely 
veiled, supported by two other women, also veiled. 
The friends of the bride bring up the rear with songs 
and laughter. She is on her way to the house of 
her intended, to be delivered over, after which she 
will no more be seen upon the streets, for a husband 
never suffers his wife to go abroad in Egypt. The 
Koran prohibits Mohammedan wives exhibitiug 
themselves in public, and the jealousy of the hus- 
bands endorses the prohibition. 

Here we are, at the hotel. 'We take dinner, and 

206" iial's travels. 

discuss the question as to our' future movements. 
The three " immortal Xcw Enghiud clergymen" 
plead strongly for the Sinai trip, but the rest of 
us have made up our minds to see Thebes and the 
crocodiles. The preachers waver a little, and we 
think our arguments have well-nigh prevailed. 
We end the discussion and retire to our rooms. 

Another day has broken upon us, fair and lovely. 
This is our third da}- in Cairo. We take a drago- 
man and start out on a sight-seeing tour'. Remember- 
ing our defeat yesterday morning, we quietly yield 
ourselves into the hands of the donkey-boys, and 
are soon otf in a canter, raising clouds of dust and 
a terrible clatter. First we will go to the Island of 
Ixlioda, a beautiful isle in the Nile, covered with 
rich vegetation and some fine gardens. A palace 
of one of the former rulers of Egypt stands on this 
island. Here is a picturesque grotto built of stones, 
shells and coral, said to mark the spot where the 
infant Moses was found in the bulrushes. Now we 
will go to the upper end of the island and sec the 
Xilometer, or Nile -measurer. It is a chamber 
perhaps forty feet square, with a pillar in the centre, 
marked for ascertaining the rise of the Nile. 
When the river is rising, the daily rise is pro- 
claimed in the streets of the cit}' each morning, by- 
criers, in tlie difterent wards of the town. Tlierais 
nothing remarkable about this pillar, exoejit its 
antiquity. It Avas established many yeaij^- before 
Christ. ^, ' 

Now, liaving seen the grotto, the pitf'aee, and the 

', HAL'S TRAVELS. 207 

Mlonieter, we will recross this branch of the river, 
and go to the mosque of the Howling Dervishes, for 
this is Friday, and their service begins at one 
o'clock. "We go through a shady court into a large 
square room, the floor of which is covered with 
matting, and around a circle in the centre are 
spread some rugs and sheep-skins. The brethren 
have commenced coming in, and in a few minutes 
the circle is complete. They take their seats on 
sheep-skins, and begin a humming noise, which, if 
we desired to be very courteous, we might call 
singing. E"ow contemplate them, as they sit there, 
swaying their bodies to and fro. There are thirty 
of them, perhaps ; most uncouth-looking creatures ; 
sturdy, undersized, broad-shouldered, bare-legged, 
splay-footed, horny -fisted, dark -browed, savage- 
looking, hairy - throated creatures, whose coun- 
tenances denote the most desperate sanctimonious- 
ness. l!>row one old fellow of a liver-and-tan color, 
and a bull-terrier expression, takes his stand in the 
centre of the circle. A wave of the hand brings 
the worshippers to their feet. The turbans of all 
who have long hair are removed. Then, at the 
word of command, they commence swaying their 
bodies back and forth, each making a noise, as he 
bends his body, not unlike the puffing of a high- 
pressure steamboat. This exercise is continued for 
one hour, without intermission, the movement 
gradually growing more rapid, and the coughing 
noise growing louder, until it resembles a howl. 
The movement becomes so rapid that the long hair 

208 iial's travels. 

can be heard to crack as the jerk is made. Some 
of them beud over so far as to abnost touch the 
floor. Their movements arc directed by the old 
priest Avho stands in the centre. The ceremony is 
accompanied with a strange kind of music — drums, 
tambourines, flageolets, etc, which is any thing but 
harmonious. This jerking movement is carried on 
until some of the worshippers become so mesmer- 
ized that the}' go into all sorts of strange antics, 
and some fall down in fits of epilepsy, foaming at 
the mouth. AVhon this state is attained, the ex- 
hibition closes, and visitors are expected to retire. 
It is wonderful that it does not kill them. No cue 
will desire to see such an exhibition a second time. 
The Dervish service being over, we will go to the 
mosque of Amru, the oldest and most extensive in 
the city. It is almost in ruins ; indeed, much of it 
has already follcn. There is a superstition among 
the Moslems, that when this mosque falls, iNIoham- 
medanism will cease ; that a new prophet will arise, 
whose prophecies shall supersede the Koran. That 
lime will not be long, judging from the looks of 
these ancient walls. In this mosque are two upright 
stone pillars, between which all the fiiithful must 
pass. All who pass between them can gain admit- 
tance into the kingdom of lieaven. Those whose 
coq^oreal rotundity renders it impossible tor them 
to get through, can never make the trip to the 
Moslem lieaven ; for it is said that they are too 
fond of the good tilings of this world. By a very 
tight squeeze, you sec that I can get through, not- 

hal's travels. 209 

withstanding my increased bulk, caused, no doubt, 
by my sojourn among tbe savory leeks and onions 
of Egypt. 

IsTow we will go up into Old Cairo, and visit the 
old Coptic Church, beneath which is a grotto, in 
which it is said the Virgin Mary and the infant 
Saviour dwelt during their stay in Egypt, when 
they fled from Herod, I know not the authority 
for the tradition. The house and the grotto bear 
evidence of great age, and were perhaps here at the 
time of our Saviour. The Coptic Christians fully 
credit the tradition. 

Having done a pretty good day's work in. the 
way of sight-seeing, we will return to our hotel 
and — sleep. 

JSTow has arrived our fourth day in Cairo. We 
have talked over again the respective routes of the 
ISTile and Mount Sinai. The Mle predominates, 
and Captain Smith and your friend Hal have been 
deputized to go down to the river, to select boats 
for the trip. We require two boats : six only can 
go in one boat. I am decidedly happy this morn- 
ing ; for I have had my heart set upon a trip up the 
Mle. We jump upon donkeys and gallop down to 
the river — a mile and a half from our hotel. Here 
are quite a number of boats, waiting to be hired. 
How nice and cosy they are ! A sight of them 
makes me doubly anxious to go up the river. Here 
is a snug little cabin, and six cosy little bunks. 
Won't we have a nice time ! We have selected an 
experienced and intelligent dragoman, who brought 

210 iial's travels. 

us letters of recommendatiou from Bayard Taylor, 
and many other Americans. lie goes with us to 
select the boats, and has promised to faithfully 
superintend the cleansing of those we select; for, 
as the Nile boats are nearly all alike, cleanliness is 
the main point to look to in making a selection. 
This is very important ; for there are still lingering 
remnants of those terrible plagues once sent upon 
Eg^-pt by the Almighty. Fleas and bedbugs are 
not the worst of the vermin met with here. Well, 
we select two, and go back to the hotel to report, 
when, O horrible ! we find the party again burst up, 
or nearly so. Mr. Brown has again flown from his 
agreement, and again declares for Mount Sinai, and 
is followed by Mr. Jones and two others. And 
thus we stand — eight in favor of the iSTile, and four 
against it. A split seems inevitable, but we perse- 
vere, knoAving that men who have already changed 
twice arc likely to change again. "\Ve all take 
donkeys and ride out to the Shubra gardens and 
•country palace of the Pasha, the most beautiful 
place we have yet seen in Egypt. This closes the 
day. "\Ve will now return to our hotel, and discuss 
the route question again. 

Fifth da}^ in Cairo — Sunday. "SVe rest all the 
forenoon, and in the afternoon go to the American 
Mission-rooms, and hear a discourse by Mr. C, one 
of our part}', and afterwards a short talk by Mr. AV"., 
another one of our party. 

Sixth day. Our donkeys are brought out early ; 
foi' to-day wc visit Ileliopolis, the ancient city of 

hal's travels. 211 

On. We mount, and, as usual, leave the city in a 
lively gallop. We ride some eight or nine miles, 
part of the way through desert, and part through 
rich farms. And here we are, at Heliopolis. "We 
see nothing like a city now. There is nothing left 
to mark the place where the ancient cit}^ stood, ex- 
cept one immense granite ohelisk, covered with 
hieroglyphics, which tell the story of its ancient 
greatness. We see many mounds, where once 
stood massive buildings, but they have neither 
shape nor comeliness. Traces of the old walls are 
plainlj^ discernible, with their gates, but that is all. 
A little outside the wall is a well of water, held in 
great esteem by the Coptic Christians, because it is 
said that Joseph and Mary, with the infant Jesus, 
drank and rested there, upon their first coming into 
Egypt. A sycamore tree stands over it, which is 
said to have been standing at that time. It is the 
oldest-looking tree I ever saw — nine feet in diame- 
ter one way, and three another, being flat. 

It was in this city of On that Joseph, the son of 
Jacob, was married to the daus-hter of the hig-h- 
priest. That was a long time ago. 

Having seen all that is to be seen here, we will 
return to the city, and, if we get there in time, will 
visit some of the Bazaars. 

You have never been in an Eastern Bazaar 
before ? l^o wonder you stare with your big eyes. 
Here you see, in the space of one hundred yards, 
fifty stores at least ; perhaps more. They are stuck 

212 iial's travels. 

in tlic sides of the houses, like cnpboarcls. The 
floor is raised perhaps two feet. The merchant sits 
cross-legged in the middle, smoking his pipe ; and 
if you ask to see an article, he hands it down to 
you without changing his position ; for he can reach 
any shelf in his little box without moving. lie 
seems perfectly indiflerent about selling, seeming 
to care more about his " chibouk" than for worldly 
gains. He sits "like Patience on a monument," 
from morning till night. This one 3'ou see puffing 
smoke, and twirling his fierce moustache, is 
but a specimen of a thousand. You are surprised 
at the great number of these turbaned traders. 
Nothing but a thin partition divides these stores 
one from another, and the streets on which they 
are located are so narrow that a merchant can retain 
his seat and hand his pipe across to his opposite 
neighbor. "When a loaded camel passes through, 
Avhich we often see, foot passengers have to crouch 
close to the wall, or they arc in danger. But it is 
getting late, and we will return to the hotel, and 
again discuss the route question. 

Seventh day. Glorious news ! The Mount Sinai 
party has again come round, and announced their 
vnalUnihle determination to go up the Xile. Xow 
for preparations in earnest. Achmet Sciada (this is 
the name of our dragoman) now has orders to fit 
•out the exitodition with the utinost dispatch. We 
all take donkeys and gallop down to see tlie boats. 
The ladies cx^ircss themselves highly plfljised with 
the ai)pearance of the l)oats, and the gentlemen arc 

hal's travels. 213 

all satisfied. Orders are given to have tlie fleas, 
bed-bugs, and other vermin utterly and uncompro- 
misingly destroyed, which Achmet says shall be 
done. Rats are also to be excommunicated, and 
cockroaches banished. Capt. Smith and your friend 
are to superintend these warlike measures. The 
boats are nice and trim, and look like good sailers. 
They are perhaps seventy feet long, and are rigged 
with immense leg-of-mutton sails. Each is to be 
manned with fourteen men, including the cooks 
and waiters. We have christened them "Hiawatha" 
and "Minnehaha." We are indebted to Mrs. Smith, 
who has a poetical turn of mind, for these names. 
We will return now to the hotel and finish up the 
sight-seeing, while the dragoman gets things in 
readiness for a start. Lunch is ready when we 
arrive at the hotel. We eat, and now, ho ! for the 
"Petrified Forest." 

Again in the saddle, and with our twelve donkey- 
boys yelling at our heels, we clatter through the 
streets, and emerge from the eastern gate of the city 
and enter at once into the desert. Two hours' ride 
through desolation, where no green thing meets the 
eye, and we reach what is called the "Petrified 
Forest." It is an immense field of logs, and stumps, 
and chips, of all shapes and sizes, looking precisely 
like wood, but all solid stone. Some have the ap- 
pearance of oak, and some walnut. There are im- 
mense quantities of it. How or when it got here, 
are qu^ions for wise men to answer if they can. 

214 iial's travels. 

"We gather many specimens, and return to Cairo 
"with a pocket-full of rocks." 

Eighth day. This is a day of sadness. We are 
told this morning that an American who has been 
lying here sick for some days, is rapidly sinking. 
He returned to Cairo a week or two ago from Syria, 
ill of a fever, which has continued to grow worse 
daily. He is a Mr. Osborne, of Philadelphia. Our 
preparations for departure are made without noise 
or hilarity. . . ... 

Mr. Osborne has now breathed liis last, and lies 
in an upper room, cold in death. He died alone, 
as it were. A few short months ago he left his wife 
in Geneva, expecting to return about this time. 
His remains will be interred this evening, and a 
letter will bear the sad intelligence to the bereaved 
widow. lie died with a Christian's hope. For- 
tunate man ! He has completed his journey but a 
little sooner than the rest of us. It's all right. 

AVe are busy now, fixing lor our departure. There 
arc many little luxuries as well as necessaries that 
must be bought here, for we are told that nothing 
can be got above here. We will go up to the Euro- 
])('an ba/.aar and get us a couple of American flags, 
for it will not do to go up the Nile without showing 
our colors. Mr. Smith is anxious for us to get a 
young cannon to fire salutes as we meet other boats. 
We are now ready to start to-morrow. Our drago- 
man informs us that all the stores arc on board, the 
crew ready, and if we have a fair wind, weiuhall to- 


morrow be wending our way towards Thebes, where 
we shall wander among the greatest ruins in the 
world. We all calculate on getting us a mummy 
apiece, and a young crocodile or two. "VVe shall 
perhaps go to the first cataract, and take a look at the 
Ethiopians in all their native beauty and naked sim- 
plicity. We leave the hotel this evening, and shall 
sleep on the boats to-night. "We must not forget to 
lay in a lot of pipes and a good supply of tobacco, 
as well as a large supply of powder and shot, for we 
are told that game is abundant up the Mle. Fishing- 
tackle must also be remembered. So, farewell for 
the present. 


216 iial's travels. 



All aboard ! Haul in the plauk ! Eing the bell ! 
Hoist the sail ! Spread the stars aud stripes to the 
breeze, and let us be off! 

But hold ! There is no breeze. The flag cliugs 
to the mast, and the bosom of the majestic JSTile is 
as placid as a lake in summer. We must "wait a 
little longer." 

AVe moved into our new quarters last evening, 
and have already settled down into a quietness al- 
most home-like. "We found our dear little "Minne- 
haha" newly painted and varnished, swept and gar- 
nished, neat as a pin — in short, all that fancy painted 
her. We slept in her neat little state-rooms with 
the sweet assurance that a war of extermination had 
been successfully waged against the peace-destroy- 
ing vermin so peculiar to Egypt, and particularly 
to Nile boats. In other words, we found the "Min- 
nehaha" innocent of bed-bugs. Our friends on 
board the " Hiawatha" wore not so fortunate. They 
got up this morning with bitter lamentations. We 
pity, but cannot help them. Achmet (our drago- 
man) comforts them with the assurance that hostili- 

hal's travels. 217 

ties shall be immediately recommenced and vigor- 
ously prosecuted, until not a living bug or flea is 
left to tell the tale. 

While we are waiting for the breeze, permit me 
to introduce you to the "Minnehaha," which is to 
be our home for six or seven weeks to come. See 
how trim she is, and how gracefully she sits upon 
the water. IsTow come aboard. See these cosy little 
rooms. Here are three of them, eight by ten feet 
square ; two beds in each, which answer the pur- 
pose of sofas by day. See how nicely the floors are 
carpeted, how richly the little windows are cur- 
tained, and how beautifally the walls are striped off 
with red, green, yellow, and white paint. Did you 
ever see any thing more brilliant ? The artist un- 
derstood the effect of mingling colors — didn't he? 
A barber's shop was never more striped. Here we 
have a table, six chairs, two tin candlesticks, a 
swinging tin lantern, and an abundance of looking- 
glass — our furniture all told, l^ow look on deck ; 
here we have cages of turkeys, geese, pigeons, and 
chickens, besides a quarter of beef and several quar- 
ters of mutton. In the hold we have bread, vege- 
tables, flour, and all the etceteras necessary for a 
two months' voyage — besides a goat to give us milk 
by the way, and a sheep for future killing. This 
cat we take along to catch the fleas — a tidy little 
yellow cat she is. Every thing, you see, is home-like. 
Here is an awning on the upper deck to protect us 
from the sun. This will be our general lounging 

218 hal's travels. 

'Nov: take a glaucc at our crew. There are thir- 
teen in all, including the two cabin-boys. The cap- 
tain is a noble-looking young Egyptian, tall and 
brawny, with a flashing black eye. lie wears a large 
turban, which adds not a little to his noble appear- 
ance. His dress is one peculiar to the country, 
being a long blue shirt which reaches several inches 
below the knees. He disdains to trammel his rich 
brown legs with trowscrs. The sailors, like their 
captain, arc all in their shirt-tails, but none of them, 
save the helmsman, rejoice in the possession of the 
turban. Our dragoman dresses in the richest Turk- 
ish costume, with a turban of costly Damascus silk. 
He is a fine-looking fellow, very quiet and gentle- 
manly in his manners. We like him much. 

The scene around us as we lie here at the wharf 
is quite oriental. You see scores of Egyptian wo- 
men coming down to the river with the great earthen 
water-pots on their heads. They wade into the 
water, wash their feet and legs, fill their pots, and 
depart. Like the men, they all wear the long blue 
cotton shirts, with a yard or two of the same mate- 
rial tlirown gracefully over their heads, with which 
they make prodigious eftbrts to conceal their faces 
from the ga/e of man. Tiieir cotton shirts are so 
scant and thin that tliey serve nearly as much to dis- 
play as to conceal their rather graceful forms. You 
also see caravans of little donkeys coming down aiul 
departing laden with goat-skins full of water. Oc- 
casionally a camel is loaded, and waddles ofl" with 
these water-skins. 

hal's travels. 219 

But see ! our flag begins to float. The wind is 
rising. The sailors fly to their posts, push out into 
the stream, spread the sails, we fire salutes, and are 
off" — Hiawatha gallantly leading the way, and Min- 
nehaha gayly tripping after. And now we scud away 
before the breeze. Farewell to Grand Cairo. We 
are afloat upon the turbid bosom of the mighty 

And is it really so ? Am I on the great river of 
Egypt, whose waters were once blood? the sands 
upon whose beach were once lice ? Am I in the 
land of Egypt, and near the very spot where the 
prophet of God was taken from the bulrushes ? 
And was it here that the locusts came up from the 
great sea and destroyed every green thing ; where 
the cold, slimy frogs came up and covered the lands, 
penetrating into the very bedchambers, and infesting 
the kneading-troughs ; where a great darkness came 
upon the people, and the angel of death was in every 
house ? It is even so ! Yonder is Memphis, or 
!N^oph, where Pharaoh lived. Moses was brought 
up there as the son of a princess. Joseph lived 
there, and Potiphar lived in the neighborhood. It 
was there that the mighty miracles of God were 
wrought by the hand of his servant Moses, to con- 
vince the heathen monarch of his great power. 
There still stand the pyramids which Abraham and 
Moses, and Jacob and Joseph, and all the patriarchs 
have looked upon as we now see them. And away 
over yonder is the city of On, which, like its neigh- 
bor, Memphis, has fallen before the awful curse of 

220 HAL'S T K A Y E L S . 

God, as denounced by the prophets Jeremiah and 
Ezekiel. It stood in the fruitful laud of Goshen, 
the best of the land of Egypt, Avliich was given to 
the patriarch Jacob and his sons. iS'othiug now re- 
mains of that once great city but its fallen walls, 
and one immense obelisk ! And this, too, is the 
land to which our Saviour, when an infant, was 
brought by Joseph and his espoused Mary to escape 
the death which the wicked Ilcrod would have ad- 
ministered. Just over there is the subterranean 
grotto in which he was nourished. The building 
which stands above it is visible from where we stand, 
and Christians worship even now in the very place.- 
But the breeze is blowing briskly, and our little 
boats stem the current bravely. We pass the Island 
of Khoda, and are now opposite Ghezeh, and the 
great Pyramids, and Memphis. We will not stop 
to see them now, but wait until our retui*n from 
Upper Egypt. Mr. Smith is in ecstasies, and Mrs. 
Smith is on deck, singing, 

" how we fly 'ncath the loud-creaking sail!" 

The weather is perfectly delicious — neither too 
hot nor too cold. "VVc are still in sight of the domes 
and minarets of Cairo. I^umcrous palm-groves and 
mud villages are in sight. The scenery is so novel 
that I shall not be able to confine myself much longer 
to write. I want to be on deck. So be patient if 
you can, and I \v\\\ finish this letter at some future 
time, should the spirit move me to take up the pen. 

It has been many, many days since the foregoing 

hal's travels. 221 

was written. We are now eighteen days out from 
Cairo. Expect to see the great ruins of Thebes to- 
morrow, should we have any wind to help us on — 
an article we have been wanting for several days. 
For me to note all the incidents that have occurred 
along the way up the river would be both tiresome 
and unprofitable, so I shall not do it. I will say, 
however, that thus far the voyage has been a de- 
lightful one ; and I shall always look back upon it 
as one of the most pleasant seasons I ever enjoyed. 
Incidents rich and racy, conversations fluent and 
spicy, and songs solemn and comic, have made time 
fly on swift wings. We have had head winds and 
favoring winds, calms and storms, hot suns and chill- 
ing breezes — every variety of weather except rain, 
for it seldom rains in Egypt. We have strolled on 
the shore, penetrated mud villages, talked to the 
natives, and rolled in the sand on the margin of the 
river, and kicked up our heels in the most free-and- 
easy manner. I never knew what it was before to 
be perfectly free from care ; for, be assured, there is 
no care on this boat for anybody but the dragoman. 
He is all in all — the factotum. He is our servant, 
our master, our guide, interpreter — every thing. He 
supplies all our wants, and we have nothing in the 
world to do but to eat, drink, and be merry. We 
smoke our pipes, drink our cofiee, read our books — 
sometimes — write when we feel like it, sing, talk, and 
tell yarns with the utmost freedom, dress or not 
dress just as suits our tastes, and, in fact, do as we 
list, without regard to the prescribed rules of civil- 


ized society. I must confess to a sort of feeling of 
pity for you poor fellows at homo who are compelled 
to dress up and wear blacked boots and two-stor}' 
hats every day, starched and ironed shirts, and care- 
fully-tied cravats. In short, you are bound down 
and hedged about with the most oppressive laws of 
utter respectability, while we in Egypt kick up our 
heels with impunity, and snap our lingers at society 
and its laws. Glorious is life upon the Nile ! But 
the best of our sport consists in shooting game. We 
roam the fields when we please, and shed streams of 
blood. Game is so plenty — geese, ducks, pigeons, 
pelicans, and crocodiles, the latter of which nobody 
kills, although everybody tries to kill — when they see 
them. We spend much time on the shore, for when 
the sailors are dragging the boat, which is more than 
half the time, we traverse the rich fields, and lounge 
in the villages, which are as plenty in Egypt as 
blackberries in Xorth Carolina. Mr. Smith and 
your correspondent are almost inseparable com- 
panions. We talk together, walk together, and 
shi^ot together. Smith is not what would be called 
in Kentucky a good marksman. lie will shoot at 
any thing, from a sparrow to a crocodile, but rarel}' 
gets any thing. While some of our party think 
little of bringing down a dozen pigeons atone shot, 
Smith is well pleased if he can bring down one 
pigeon in a dozen shots. Pigeons are here by the 
million. The chief feature in all the villages is the 
jtigeon-houses. They tower much higher than the 
dwellings, and are invariably built with more tasto 


(if an Egyptian can be said to have any taste) than 
the huts inhabited by the people — or two-legged 
creatures who answer the place of people. Smith 
loves to go into these villages, and to talk or try to 
talk to these naked and half-naked devils, who are 
to be found lounging and smoking by the hundred 
in every town. He invariably takes advantage of 
them and asks for " backsheesh" before their inordi- 
nate laziness will permit them to get the word out. 
He thus forestalls them, and saves his coppers. A 
shrewd man is Smith. Perhaps you think I slight 
the rest of my fellow-passengers by saying nothing 
aBout them, and speaking altogether of Smith. The 
fact is, Smith is the only original character we have 
in the party, and the only man in whom I feel a deep 
interest. True, Absalom Jones is a " man of parts," 
but then he is not like Smith. I remember one day 
our boat arrived at Ossiout, once the capital of Upper 
Egypt, and one of the largest cities in the country. 
The town lies back perhaps a mile and a half from 
the river. As we were to lie there a few hours to 
give our crew a chance to have a fresh supply of 
bread baked, Smith and myself mounted donkeys 
and set off in a gallop for the bazaars. On the way 
we came up with a crowd of Egyptians in a muss. 
A fight seemed inevitable. By the time we got into 
the crowd it had actually commenced. Five stal- 
wart, half-naked, yellow-skinned dogs were pitching 
into one old man, and giving him particular thun- 
der. "Without waiting a moment. Smith plunged 
into the thickest of the fight, and fell to right and 


left with his stick in behalf of the Aveaker party. I 
was somewhat alarmed, for I thought the villains 
(cither of whom could have demolished their assail- 
ant with one blow) seemed disposed to show light. 
Smith heeded them not, however, but laid his stick 
unmercifully on tlieir heads and bare shoulders until 
the whole live broke and precipitately fled, while 
the rescued old man ran as fast in an opposite direc- 
tion. A Frank (a term for Europeans and Ameri- 
cans) can knock an Arab down with impunity, (un- 
less it be a wild Bedouin of the desert,) and fear no 
evil, especially if he have a gold band on his cap, as 
Smith had. 

I would give you a paragraph or two descriptive 
of the scenery along the Nile, if there were not 
already scores of books devoted to this especial 
thing. Travellers generally think themselves bound 
to describe scenery — but I don't. One feature, liow- 
ever, strikes me forcibly. It is the total absence of 
timber, or, at least, anything like wild timber. The 
palm is almost the only kind of tree to be met with, 
and it is only cultivated for its fruit — the date. A 
little accident called my attention more particularly 
to this. It Avas the want of a ramrod. Not a stick, 
or a limb, or a sprig, or a sprout have we been able 
to And in Egypt long enough or straight enough to 
make a ramrod even for a short-barrelled fowling- 
piece. "We had not been three days out from Cairo, 
Avhen my friend Smith shot away his ramrod. He 
then used mine until two days aCtorward he dropped 
it overboard, and we were both left unable to load 

hal's travels. 225 

our guns, and would have continued so but for a 
small walking-cane which my good friend Tummy 
Robinson gave me in London. That little walkihg- 
cane has enabled us to destroy much game. 
. Many little incidents have occurred aloug the 
way that would be quite amusing if I could do them 
justice in the telling. One deliciously pleasant 
evening I remember, not many days ago, when our 
boat was sailing gently before a quiet breeze, I was 
lounging on the " sofa," puf&ng my chibouk, and 
thinking of dear ones far away ; Smith was sitting 
by, cleaning his gun, and boasting of the execution 
he meant to do on the morrow ; Jones was reading 
Prime's travels, and Brown was writing up his 
journal. The ladies, Mrs. Smith and Miss Kissiah 
Jones, were in their cabin in the arms of Morpheus, 
for all we knew. Perhaps it will not be out of 
place for me to say here that Miss Kissiah is as nice 
a young lady as you would wish to see — neat as a 
pin, and lovely enough to be just the sort of com- 
pany one would love to have on the ISTile. As for 
Mrs. Smith, she is intensely nice, and as particular in 
all things as ladies ever get to be. The sight of a 
cockroach would frighten her, while that horrible 
insect known in America as a bedbug would, I 
think, almost drive her into spasms. Put as I was 
saying above, on that delicious evening when we 
were all lounging and smoking and reading and 
writing, suddenly we heard in the ladies' cabin 
something like a faint scream, then a low murmur- 

226 ual's tkavels. 

ing of voices, aud then a faint antl prolonged "0!" 
like some one giving up iii despair. Smith recog- 
nized the voice, and rushed in. Mrs. S. had gone 
off into something like a swoon, while Miss Kissiah 
stood by, pale and trembling, holding something 
between her thumb and linger wrapped up in a 
piece of paper. A tumbler of water brought the 
madam to her senses, and an explanation followed. 
Mrs. S. had been prying into the secret recesses 
and folds of her garments, and had scared up an 
animal, the precise species of which she did not 
know, but which she had awful suspicions was the 
very thing she above all others desired it should not 
be. Miss Kissiah held the frightful beast tightly in 
the paper between her fingers. It was brought t)ut 
for us all to examine. We liad no dilHculty in de- 
ciding that it was indeed the very thing itself that 

Mrs. S. had feared it was — to wit, a shall I 

write it? — a but it is sufficient to say that it 

was a lineal descendant of the third plague of 
Egypt. A general examination followed this dis- 
covery, which turned up many more of the same 
sort. Mrs. Smith did not make her appearance at 
the head of the tea-table that evening. She has lost 
her buoyancy of spirits, and her color is fast fading. 
She sighs for a return to civilization. Smith deeply 
sympathizes with lier, and, I regret to say, is not 
the man he was. Miss Kissiah takes the unfortunate 
discovery more philosophically, and vows heroioiiliy 
to murder every marauding she catchers. This 

hal's travels, ^2^ 

species of insect abounds plentifully in Egypt, and 
lie who enjoys the pleasures of ISTile travelling must 
expect to suffer its ills. 

If I could do it, I would like to give you some 
idea of a Mohammedan religious festival — but I 
can't. "We stopped one day at the city of Girgeh, 
where a fifteen days' festival was going on, and it 
was a little ahead of any thing I ever saw. As 
soon as the boat landed we all hastened up into the 
city, if an immense collection of mud-pens covered 
with mats and corn-stalks can be called a city. 
The streets (if little, narrow, filthy, crooked lanes 
can be called streets) were crowded with an im- 
mense herd of creatures very much resembling men 
and women, cutting up all sorts of monkey-shines, 
some singing, some beating instruments resembling 
tambourines, others tapping rude drums, and others 
snapping their fingers and keeping time by wag- 
ging their heads iii the most grotesque manner. 
In an open space near the river-bank stood a tall 
pole with a rag on it, intended for a banner. In a 
circle around this pole sat more than a hundred 
men, mostly old and grayheaded. Within the 
circle sat many more, all with their shoes off. 
Some were swaying their bodies, and chanting 
"Allah-wa, Allah-wa," while others were^alking 
vociferously and making furious gestures. l!Tear 
this circle was another standing circle of Dervishes, 
• going through just such ridiculous contortions and 
howli^s as we had witnessed in Cairo. In the 
)f a mosque hard by was another just such a 

228 ual's travels. 

crowd. We went into the mosque, followed by 
about a liuudred of the naked and iHthy natives, 
for it is impossible fora"liowadji" (a gentleman) to 
walk in one of these towns without having a bcvy 
of these animals at his heels, and if he does not 
carry a stick or a cowhide or some other defensive 
weapon to beat them off, they become oppressively 
familiar. As we entered the court of the mosque 
the janizary who guarded tlie entrance fell upon 
the crowd at our heels with a huge wbip, and beat 
some of them unmercifully. Such a yelling and 
scampering I never saw before. The janizary then 
turned to us and demanded "backsheesh" for the 
service he had rendered us. Since then we have 
done our own lighting and saved the backsheesh. 
This was a fair as well as a religious festival. Tents 
and temporary huts of corn-stalks occupied every 
available space, .where itinerant merchants were 
vending the goods, wares, and vegetables peculiar 
to the country. On our way back to the boats we 
were set upon by a horde of dancing-girls, dressed 
in the most gaudy and fantastic style, the foncy 
articles being principally worn upon the head, neck 
and arms, while the remaining portion of the per- 
son can hardly be said to have been dressed at all. 
I saw two whose onhi articles of dress were beads 
and head ornaments. These nymphs occupied a 
separate group of corn-stalk huts. AVc almost had 
to light our way through them. Some of them had 
rather good-looking faces ; but I have never yet 

seen a really handsome Egyptian woman, xhey 

ever y 

hal's travels. 229 

paint a black streak around tlieir eyes, which they 
imagine adds greatly to their beauty. We finally 
fought our way through the "backsheesh"-clamoring 
"fair ones," got to our boats, and went on our way 

My friend Smith is lame to-day. Has been hob- 
bling about two or three days in the most restless 
and impatient manner, cursing because he has not 
been able to go ashore shooting. His lameness was 
brought about in rather an amusing manner. It 
was thus : A couple of our sailors had a falling out 
a few nights ago, and finally came to blows. It 
was dark on deck, and from the noise and confusion 
which reigned, you would have thought that there 
were at least fifty in the fight. 'Not only the two 
belligerents were yelling and cursing at the top of 
their voices, but the whole thirteen were making 
their luiigs do service in the most high-pressure 
style. The ladies became frightened, not knowing 
but a band of roving Bedouins had attacked the crew. 
Smith rushed out, and, as is his manner, pitched 
into the midst of the fight — for Smith is an impetu- 
ous man — and the first thing he knew he didn't 
know much of any thing. On the front part of the 
deck near the kitchen there is a hatchway, leading 
of course down into the hold of the boat. "We call 
it the "goat-hole," because in there we keep our 
mutton and our milk-goat. In the melee Smith 
disappeared into this "goat-hole," and being some- 
what stunned, he lay there until the fight was over, 
when his head shot up — his iron-gray hair bristling 

230 ual's travels. 

out like spikes — presenting the most ghostlike ap- 
pearance that 1 have seen on the Nile. Pale, 
■wounclccl, hloody, and immeasurahly astounded, 
■with his hald head peering np from the dark ahyss 
below, he presented a picture, as revealed by the 
one dim candle which had been bronght to the 
scene, that would have made the fortune of any 
comic painter in the world could he have copied it 
correctly. "We lifted the old gentleman out, bore 
him into the cabin, staunched his bleeding nose, ad- 
ministered a dose of brandy, all of which restored 
him to himself, when he discovered that a piece of 
skin about the size of a dollar was missing from the 
cap of his right knee. Smith has not hunted ducks, 
geese, or pigeons since. Thinks he will be able to 
be out to-morrow. I hope so, for we shall probably 
arrive at Thebes to-morrow. 

We have met many boats returning from the up- 
country during our voyage, two with American 
colors, and several with French and English. We 
make it a rule to exchange salutes with all we meet. 
A day or two ago we met a boat gliding doAvn with 
an immense English flag and an extcnsivo*strcamcr 
floating in the breeze. We fired our guns as usual, 
and waited and listened, but no response came. 
We were evidently "cut." Smith grew furious — 
walked the deck, gnashed his teeth, and foamed at 
the mouth. Wanted to tack about and give cliase', 
and vowed by all that was sacred that he would give 
them a few guns loaded with something more than 
powder. Didn't care, he said, as far as he was 

hal's travels. 231 

individually concerned, but the American flag had 
been insulted, and he was for wiping out the stain 
then and there. I have no doubt, if he had met 
a Britisher about that time, something would have 
happened. Smith is n't afraid. We finally got him 
cooled down by persuading him that the English- 
men had been up the country for some time, and 
had in all probability run out of powder. 

Yesterday we passed Grheneh, the capital of 
Upper Egypt, celebrated only as being the place 
where the governor lives, and for the manufacture 
of pottery. Before our boat approached within 
three miles of the town, we were met by a troop of 
donkey-boys, soliciting the privilege of giving us a 
ride up to the city. As our boat was going very 
slowly — the sailors were towing, there being no 
wind — we accepted the invitation, and once more 
found ourselves in the saddle scouring away across 
the sandy plain towards Gheneh, with half-a-dozen 
black ISTubians yelling at our heels, beating the 
donkeys whenever they could get within striking 
distance of them. We dashed into the city at furi- 
ous speed, kicking up a tremendous dust as we 
went, jostling and discomposing many a pious 
Mussulman, and knocking the long-stemmed pipes 
from the mouths of not a few of the leather-headed 
Arabs as they thronged the narrow lanes. We 
rushed through the bazaars, and then into the out- 
skirts, and in less than two hours I think we had 
explored the town thoroughly, threading all the 
streets and lanes in a lope, to the great astonish- 

232 hal's travels. 

ment of, and not "without serious danger to the 
frightened natives. "We found that about every 
other house was either a manufactory of, or a place 
for the sale of pottery. We -were assailed again b}^ 
the fancy girls, who actually blocked up the passage 
and demanded "backsheesh" in tones of appalling 
shrillness. A handsome one — that is, a fat one, for 
"fat" and "beautiful" are synonymous terms in 
this country — seized the donkey of my good friend 
Smith by the bridle, and held on so tenaciously that 
Smith surrendered, and actually gave her a piastre. 
If it had been a man or a boy, he would have felt 
the weight of Smith's stick, but Smith is a gallant 
man. After " doing" the town, and laying in a 
fresh stock of tobacco, we departed to our boats, to 
the no small delight of the quiet citizens. It was 
quite a treat to get on the back of a donkey once 
more, and we enjoyed it hugely. Eiding a good 
donkey is the very poetry of motion. 

A rather laughable incident occurred on board 
our boat to-day. While we were all taking our 
aCter-dinner smoke and siesta, I was aroused by 
hearing a very loud quarrel l)egiu between Saidc 
Dcmshiri, our captain, and old Hassan, the helms- 
man. I went out just in time to sec Hassan ap- 
proach Saide and give him a box upon the cheek. 
Now Captain Saidc is a young man, twenty-two or 
twenty-three years old perhaps, while Hassan is a 
venerable old patriarch, who was a helmsman upon 
the Nile before the captain was born. Saidc being 
young and athletic, I expected to see him demolish 

hal's travels. 233 

old Hassan instanter, which he was just preparing 
to do when the sailors interfered. When Saide 
found that he could not get hold of the old fellow, 
he was, I think, the most enraged and furious in- 
dividual I ever saw. Captain Smith's rage when 
the English boat refused to respond to our salute, 
was as child's-play compared to Captain Saide' s de- 
monstrations. His eyes glared like those of a tom- 
cat in a dark cellar. He foamed at the mouth like 
a hyena. He tore his shirt (the only garment he 
had on) from the bosom clear out to the tail ; 
snatched off his turban and beat the ground with it, 
leaving his closely shaven head (all Egyptians shave 
their heads) bared to the burning sun. Took up 
handfuls of sand and threw it in the air ; covered 
his head with dirt ; snorted, roared, threw himself 
on the ground, and kicked like a spanked child. 
Under the command of Hassan, the sailors shoved 
off the boat, and we left Captain Saide alone in his 
glory, spread out like a huge bull-frog, with his face 
in the sand. Our dragoman was on the Hiawatha, 
a mile or two ahead, at the time of this occurrence. 
His presence would have prevented it. He will 
rejoin us to-night. Captain Saide overtook us two 
hours after we left him, but he is still sullen. I 
think his chances for a well pair of feet to-morrow 
are slim. Achmet is not afraid to resort to the bas- 

■ This is our twentieth day on the ITile. We are 
now neariug Thebes and Luxor. Have had no 
wind for several days to do any good, but we 

284 Hal's t ii a v e l s . 

■will get to Thebes early to-morrow, wind or no 

"Wo have spent no time sight-seeing during our 
upward trip, but shall devote some five or six days 
visiting antiquities on our return. It will require 
five or six days to explore the great ruins here. 
Have not determined 3'et whetlier we will go farther 
up the river or not. Guess not, as we are anxious 
to get into Palestine by the middle of JMarch. 

Nile-travelling agrees with me well. The flesh- 
pots of Egypt have had a wonderful effect. I am 
as fat as a bear, and the pelting African sun has 
burnt my face as brown as an Arab's. Farewell. 


hal's travels. 235 



My last letter was closed, I think, on tlie night 
of the 14th inst., while the "Hiawatha" and "Min- 
nehaha" were lying tied up to the bank of the river 
some five or six miles below here. We shoved off 
bright and early on the following morning, and 
moved towards Thebes, our hearts beating high 
with the hope of soon looking upon the remains of 
what was once, perhaps, the greatest city the world 
ever saw — and the oldest, for it was doubtless one 
of the first cities built after the flood. We were all 
out on deck that morning much earlier than usual, 
stretching our necks to catch a sight of the great 
portico of Luxor. Mrs. Smith was up before the 
sun, and for the first time in many months — perhaps 
years — saw that glorious luminary make his per- 
sonal appearance above the eastern horizon. Miss 
Kissiah was also on the alert. These two ladies were 
not on deck, but at their little cabin-windows, gazing 
in a Theban direction for a glimpse of the famed 
towers of Karnak. AVhile there they saw our favorite 
and only cat — the yellow cat which had been the 
faithful companion of our voyage, and general pet 


of the party — they saw this cat thrown with violence 
far out into the stream. This horrible ea/astrophe 
bronglit forth a scream from Mrs. Smith, and Miss 
lassiah followed her example. Cut screaming did no 
good : Puss had sunk to rise no more. This occur- 
rence caused, as well it might, no small stir on 
board the "Minnehaha." The ladies had seen the 
cat thrown, but had not seen the wicked hand that 
did the deed. Inquiry was immediately set on foot, 
but nobody seemed to know who the guilty one was. 
Suspicion fell upon Mohammed, the black Nubian 
cook. Mohammed denied the charge with great 
earnestness, and to make his innocence appear more 
clear, he swore tliat there had not been a cat nor 
the shadow of a cat on the boat for two days ; that 
he had seen the cat with his own eyes jump over- 
board two davs before after a fish, when she was 
immediately seized and devoured by a ravenous 
crocodile. We all knew that Mohammed was lying 
like an Arab, but his cool earnestness was refresh- 
ing. Witnesses were then called, when Captain 
Saide testified that he had seen Mohammed throw 
Puss over. But this was nothing. It requires two 
witnesses to establish guilt in this country. ^Mo- 
hammed was on the point of getting ofl:' clear, when 
Abdullah, our favorite oarsman, came forward and 
substantiated tlio testimony of the ca]itain. Thus 
cornered, Mohammed owned u]>. but justified the 
act by asserting that the cat liad tliat very morning 
stolen and eaten a cliieken and two pigeons which 
he was preparing for breakfast. lie was dismissed 


for the time, but with the assurance of the drago- 
man that a settlement would be entered into at 

Mrs. Smith was greatly troubled at the loss of 
this cat, and so was Miss Kissiah ; not only on ac- 
count of their fondness for Puss, but they were 
superstitious. They fully believed that some evil 
would befall some if not all of the party. Mrs. S. 
had never known it to fail, that when a cat was 
murdered, some misfortune followed soon after, and 
Miss Kissiah had always "heard" the same thing. 
They have been in trouble ever since. 

Early in the day the great ruins loomed up before 
us. Our boats were moored under the bank of the 
river immediately in front of the porch of the grand 
Temple of Luxor. With impatience, we hurried 
on shore in the very hottest part of the day, (and hot 
weather means something in Southern Egypt,) to 
view the mighty columns and ponderous towers. 
Our wonder and admiration were great. We looked 
upon the pile before us, and thought of Rome as a 
little thing. We looked up at the tall obelisk and 
the three colossal statues that stand at the entrance 
to the Temple, and wondered what kind of ma- 
chinery could have been used to place them there. 
We walked around and through and upon this 
vast structure, nor heeded the burning sun, so great 
was our enthusiasm. Perhaps you have read, but 
have forgotten when and where, of a" temple so 
large that a populous village now stands in and 
upon it. It is the Temple of Luxor. We climbed 

238 hal's travels. 

lip an immense tower whicli stands at one of the 
gateways, by what liad once been a flight of granite 
steps, but which are steps no longer, the foot of man 
and time having worn them away. Standing up 
there we had a tine view of the surrounding plains, 
the frowning walls of Karnak, two miles distant, and 
the two celebrated colossal statues, Memnon and 
his nameless companion, standing away across the 
river. In descending from this tower, your corre- 
spondent slipped and fell, and — got up again — but 
Avhich fall came well-nigh putting a period to his 
sight-seeing and donke^'-riding in Egypt. The ac- 
cident was not serious, however, a pair of skinned 
elbows and a few bruises being the extent. A half 
day's lying up, and all was right, even to the ability 
to ride a donkey at full speed. A few minutes 
alter this accident, and Mrs. Smith had also to be 
borne to the bout in a iiiinting condition, something 
like a sun-stroke having overpowered her. A little 
brandy and water restored us both in due time. 
She was in favor of having poor Mohammed imme- 
diately bastinadoed, being more than ever convinced 
that the drowning of the cat had caused the acci- 
dents, and further predicted that misfortumes would 
continue to follow the party ; and then she quoted 
the "Iliawathian" lines Avhich run somewhat thus: 

"Never jumps a sliccp tliut's frightcncJ 
Over any fence whatever, 
Over Willi, or fence, or timber, 
But a second follows after. 
Anil a (liird upon tlic second, 

i hal'stravels. 239 • 

And a fourth, and fifth, and so on, 
I First a sheep, and then a dozen, 

t Till they all, in quick succession, 

' One by one have got clear OTer. 

So misfortunes, almost always, 
j Follow after one another. 

Seem to watch each other, always, 

When they see the tail uplifted, 

In the air the tail uplifted ; 

As the sorrow leapeth over. 

So they follow, thicker, faster. 

Till the air of earth seems darkened. 

With the tails of sad misfortunes." 

I was out very early the next morning. I had 
rea'd and heard of the ancient musical propensi- 
ties of the great statue of Memnon, (and who has 
not ?) which it is said in ancient times gave forth 
musical sounds each morning at the rising of the 
sun. I took a position where I could see the sta- 
tue and listen, when, as the sun rose and kissed 
his time-honored and cold, wrinkled brow, judge 
of my surprise when I heard sounds, not truly mu- 
sical, but sad and mournful, come floating across 
the plains and the river, and dying away in the 
tumult of the mud village that lay behind me. I 
had thought that Memnon had long since ceased 
to be musical, and idle curiosity alone had prompted 
me to listen, not that I expected to hear any sound 
whatever. My delight was equal to my astonish- 
ment when I heard the startling notes. I hurried 
to the boat with wide-stretched eyes and palpitat- 
ing heart, to inform my friends and give them a 
chance to witness the wonderful performance. Smith 

240 II A L ' d T K A V K L S . 

was tlic first man out, and lioard tlic sounds dis- 
tinctly ; but a moment after, he pointed out a Avhecl 
on the opposite side of the river, slowly revolving 
to raise water for irrigation, being turned by one 
solitary ox. It was making a horrible creaking 
noise. I caved at once. That was the music which 
liad so excited me. Smith had the laugh on me all 
that day. Old Memnon sat sublimely silent on his 
cold, stony throne, as he has done for thousands of 

After breakfast we all gathered together from 
botli boats, crossed the river, and set out for the 
mountain to see the "Tombs of the Kings." A 
crowd of donkeys awaited us, (donkeys wait for you 
everywliere in Egvi>t,) and I saw at a glance that we 
should have a scuiHe for it. There was just a dozen 
of us, and about two dozen donkeys, and each don- 
key-boy would do his level best to out-bully his 
competitor, and get himself and donkey hired. It 
is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of donkey- 
boys, for if you do not beat them off, nvhich is next 
to an impossibility, they will almost tear you limb 
from limb. When our boat landed I sprang upon 
the shore, and fell immediately into the hands of 
Mohammed Ali and TIassan Asoof. They wore stal- 
wart fellows, each large enough to carry his diminu- 
tive donkey on his own shoulder. Mohammed Ali 
swore that ho hail the best donkey in Thebes, and 
that Ilassan and his donkey were both humbugs ; 
that his own donkey could go like a horse. Hassan 
retorted the best he could, and said that his donkey 

hal's travels. 241 

could not only go like a horse, but could outrun a 
jackal. I love a fleet donkey, and was therefore 
about to mount Hassan's, when Mohammed All re- 
turned to the charge, and swore by Allah (he was a 
profane dog) that his donkey could be properly com- 
pared to nothing but a steamboat. This decided 
me, and I mounted the donkey of Mohammed Ali. 
During the quarrel and scuffle they had each held 
me by an arm, and had come near pulling them out 
of their sockets. I did not have time to notice the 
troubles of my companions, but from the noise kept 
up, they must have fared worse than I did. We 
were all at length in the saddle, and fleeing across the 
broad fields toward the mountain where the kings 
of Egypt have slept in profound repose for more 
than thirty centuries ; old Achmet, the guide, lead- 
ing the van, mounted on a donkey which, had it 
been weighed in the balance with him, would have 
been found wanting. My own donkey, which Mo- 
hammed Ali had said so much resembled a steam- 
boat, was the most miserable thing I ever had backed 
in Egypt, but little larger and much less nimble 
than our milk-goat. I complained of the cheat, but 
Mohammed Ali swore more than a hundred times 
that it was the best donkey in Thebes, and more 
like a steamboat than any thing else. But all the 
beating that Mohammed could bestow could not get 
him into a gallop. He promised faithfully, how- 
ever, that on the next day he would furnish me a 
donkey three times the size, and one that could run 
like the wind. 

242 U A L ' S T R A \' E L S . 

It was about two or tliroc hours" ride to tlic Tombs. 
In the way, we passed the ruins of the Temple of 
Xooneh, which, like that of Luxor, was built of 
enormous stones, every one of which, too, was 
covered -uith hieroglyphics, and images of men, wo- 
men, etc. It was, however, comparatively a small 
temple. We spent an hour examining it, by which 
time the heat of the day had fully come upon us. 
"We left the temple, and wound our way up a drear}' 
gorge of the mountain, while the rays of the sun 
seemed to come down a near way upon our de- 
voted heads. It was, indeed, a pleasant thing to sit 
down in the shadow of a great rock in such a place 
and on such a day. 

The first tomb we entered is the greatest that has 
ever been discovered in Eg^-jit. It is called " Bel- 
zoni's Tomb," because it was discovered and opened 
by a man of that name. It is entered by a broad 
descending passage, which leads into a number of 
large and elegantl}' sculptured and painted cham- 
bers, all hewn out in the solid stone mountain, and 
decorated with a great number of elegantly wrought 
cdfcamns which support the roof. The paintings and 
sculptures represent all the occupations of life, as 
the}' were carried on three thousand ^-ears ago. 
There has been but little change since. The dress 
of the laboring jieople was the same then as now, 
being nothing but a simple piece of cloth around 
the waist, extending about half-way down to the 
knees ; the rest of the body is naked. Boats were 
rowed and towed upon the Nile then just as they 

hal's travels. 243 

are yet. "Water was carried in goat-skins, and the 
same water-pots were used. In fact, there is no 
change or improvement in any thing that I can see 
for all that time. This will sound strange to Ameri- 
can ears, where changes are occurring and improve- 
ments being made almost daily. 

Besides Belzoni's, we went into many other large 
tombs, all filled with paintings and hieroglyphics 
like the first. To attempt a description of any of 
them would be prosy. These are the tombs in which 
many of the kings of Egypt were laid, but their 
mummied bodies have been removed, and now grace 
or disgrace many of the museums of Europe. We 
eat down in the cool shady entrance of a tomb, took 
lunch, smoked our pipes, and when the cool of the 
evening approached, wended our way towards the 

In returning, another accident occurred, which 
again brought up the story of the murdered cat, and 
confirmed the superstition of Mrs. Smith. My good 
friend Smith was again the victim. Brown and my- 
self seeing what appeared to be a freshly-opened 
tomb up the side of the mountain, dismounted and 
climbed up to it, leaving our donkeys standing in 
the road. Brown's was a licentious donkc}^, and 
was no sooner left to himself than he pitched into 
the donkey of Mr. Smith, biting, squealing, pawing, 
and snorting ; Smith's donkey resented the attack 
in such a way as to lay his rider flat on his back on 
the hard stony road. Poor Smith has been grunting 
ever since. He refused to pay the donkey-boy the 

2-44 hal's travels. 

usual "backsheesh," (present,) because his donkey 
threw him off. Smith is a shrewd man, and never 
will pay the "backsheesh" uuless his donkey suits 
liim — and I have never known him to have a don- 
key that suited him yet. 

The next day we crossed the river aa:ain, and 
went into a great many other tombs. We entered 
one into which we had to crawl like lizards, so 
small was the opening. It consisted of six cham- 
bers, and contained, I would think, not less than a 
thousand mummies. I walked upon them, and 
heard the bones of some crush under my feet. It 
was strange to see bodies so many thousands of 
years old wrapped in cloth and undccayed as they 
were left by their friends. I sat down upon tlic 
l)reast of one big old fellow, and unAvound the cloth 
from the feet of a smaller one, a piece of which I 
brought away to carry home with me. Also took 
one of their hands for the inspection of some of 
my home friends. Smith would not go into this 
abode of the dead, but stood at the dopr trembling, 
while the rest of us left him alone. Smith is not 
afraid of a living man, but has a mortal dread of 
entering a tomb tenanted by dead bodies. 

Coming out of this tomb, we- descended to the 
Memnonium, or ruins of the Temple of Afemnon. 
This was grand indeed. Its columns were nume- 
rous and immense. Every stone inside and outside 
of this immense structure is cc^ered with hiero- 
glyphics. I do not know how to give you an idea 
of the magnitude of an Egyptian temple. The 

hal's travels. 245 

stones are so large tliat you wonder how they were 
ever lioistecl to their places. Every thing yon see 
is on such a scale that you are struck with amaze- 
ment. In the court of this temple lies a broken 
colossal statue of Kameses, so large that when you 
see it, you will give up the effort to comprehend its 
greatness. To say that it is the largest statue in 
the world, will give you no idea of it. It is of 
granite. It is thrown down and broken ; thought 
to have been done by the Persian conquerors of 
Egypt. "What means were used to break it, is a 
mystery, for gunpowder was unknown in those 
days. And if the breaking of it be a mystery, 
how much greater is the mystery as to how it was 
brought and placed in the court of the temple ! for 
it was certainly brought from a great distance, as 
there is no red granite in this neighborhood. I 
suppose it must be the largest block of hewn stone 
in the world. It weighs, according to Murray, 
more than eight hundred and eighty-seven tons ! 

Leaving the Memnonium, we went to see two 
great statues which stand in the plain below — 
Memnon and his companion. Old Memnon was 
still silent, and gazed as coldly and steadily towards 
the east as he did three thousand years ago. He 
heeds not the rising of the sun, as he did in days 
of yore ; at least, he gives forth no musical sounds 
now, as then. These statues stand, or rather sit, in 
a cultivated plain — wheat growing luxuriantly all 
around them, with scarcely any traces of the great 
city in the midst of which they once sat. Their 

24G ual's travels. 

height I do not know. They are perhaps as high 
as any house in Iluntsville, although in a sitting 
posture ! After viewing these statues, we returned 
to our boats, being saluted by the way by all the 
laborers in the fields, with, "Backsheesh, howadji !" 
a salutation that I have grown sick of hearing. 

The Egyptians are all beggars. The first word 
the children learn is "backsheesh," and they never 
see a "howadji" that they do not scream it out. 
If they do you a fiivor of any kind, they of course 
expect " backsheesh ;" and if you do them a favor, 
they expect the same thing. So it is " backsheesh" 
first, last, and all the time. They are all poor 
devils, seldom possessing more than the cotton 
sliirt or breech-clout which hides their lud-ccdness. 

Another day has now dawned. IIo for Karnak, 
the wonder of the world ! Here are our donkej-s, 
waiting for us. We mount, and away. I had for- 
gotten to mention that Mrs. Smith is no longer 
able to ride a donkc}'. She has now to be carried in a 
chair, with a pole strapped to each side, on the 
shoulders of four Arabs. She enjoys tliis new 
mode of locomotion hugely. But here we are, at 
Karnak. I look up at the great propylon, and feel 
a dizzy sensation. Enter the court of the temp],e, 
and my heart leaps with astonishment. Look up 
at the enormous columns, and the great stones on 
top of them, and am sick with wonder. What 
grandeur ! I was not prepared for it, although 
expecting to sec the most ponderous ruins in the 
worltl. It is too much for me. Uerc arc in one 

hal's travels. 247 

hall one liuuclrecl aucl twenty-six columns, each 
thirty-six feet in circumference, with capitals almost 
double the size, and all so elaborately carved ! And 
this is only one hall ! There are many, many others. 
This temple is said to have covered seventy-five 
acres of ground ! There were four gateways lead- 
ing into it, each of which was approached by long 
avenues of Sphynxes. One of these avenues was 
two miles long, and connected the two temples of 
Karnak and Luxor. The Sphynxes are nearly all 
thrown down and broken, and thousands of them 
buried beneath the soil. Shall I attempt a descrip- 
tion of this temple ? 'No. It would fill a book. 
If I desired to be exceedingly prosy, and to bore 
you unmercifully, I would copy a few pages from 
Murray's hand-book, but as I feel kindly towards 
you, I shall not do it. Every stone in and about the 
temple (and there are enough to build a city) is 
completely covered with strange figures and inscrip- 
tions. There are so many of them that it is said 
they have never even been counted ! In the midst 
of this ruin rise two granite obelisks, one ninety- 
two feet high, and eight feet square at the base, be- 
sides the portion that is buried in the ground! 
They are covered with hieroglyphics, cut about 
three inches deep, and as well defined as if they 
had been cut but yesterday. Hundreds of broken 
statues, of every size and description, are lying in 
and around this great pile. Some of the paintings 
on the stones of the temple look bright and fresh, 
as if recently done. Here are some stones I have 

248 ual's travels. 

measured : tlicy are tliirty-six feet long, and five feet 
square. They formed a gateway, Avhicli is now 
nearly all thrown down. 

AVlien we look at these ruins, how small all others 
seem to us ! We think of the many broken columns 
we saw lying about at Rome as small things indeed. 
We have never seen a broken column in Egypt. 
They were not made to be broken. "We see many 
lying prostrate, but not broken ! They laugh at 
the tooth of time, and even earthquakes fail to 
rend them. But for the vandal hand of man, 
Karnak would have stood whole and entire as long 
as time. But alas for destructive man ! The grace 
and comeliness of Karnak are gone. But it is only 
the fulfilment of prophecy. The Prophets Jere- 
miah, Ezekiel, and Xahum, all prophesied the 
destruction of Thebes, (or "No," as it was some- 
times called.) Like the other great cities of Egypt, 
it has fallen before the wrath of God ! AVe spend 
the day among these ruins, and return to the boats. 

The next day was Sunday. Some of us went 
again to Karnak, and some didn't. In the evening 
we had religious service, as our custom is, on board 
the "Minnehaha." 

Monday we crossed the river again to visit the 
ruined temple and palace of — of — but the name 
would be too hard to write, even if I could remem- 
ber it. I will only say that it was an immense jnlo 
of stones and columns, and had once been a build- 
ing superior to any thing I had seen out of Egypt, 
it dates back as far as the rest of the ruins I had 


seen. It was partly built by Rameses HI. The 
walls are mostly covered with scenes in the life of 
that king. After seeing this we returned, to the 
neighborhood of the tombs, where the work of re- 
surrection is still going on. Kew tombs are often 
found and opened. The whole side of the moun- 
tain which overlooks the plain of Thebes is like a 
honeycomb, so numerous are the gaping tombs that 
have been opened and rifled of their contents. We 
entered one which is now used by Mustapha Agah 
as a depository for what he finds in his work of re- 
surrection. There were several fine mummy cases, 
containing bodies which he has recently exhumed. 
One of them was the body of a princess. There 
was an open mummy -case standing against the 
wall, tenanted by a withered body, with its hideous 
face uncovered. Mrs. Smith mounted upon the top 
of a prostrate sarcophagus, and delivered the follow- 
ing address to the defunct Egyptian, which she seemed 
to have memorized for the occasion. The address 
was written a long time ago by one of the Smith 
family — Horace Smith, perhaps : 


And thou liast walked about (how strange a story!) 
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago, 

When the Memnonium was in all its glory, 
And time had not begun to overthrow 

Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous. 

Of which the very ruins are tremendous. 

Speak ! for thou long enough hast acted Dummy. 
Thou hast a tongue — come — let us hear its tune ; 

250 iial's travels. 

Thou'rt Pfanditig on thy legs, abovc-grouml, Mummy! 

Kevisiiing the glimpses of the moon, 
Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures, 
But with thy hones and flesh, and limbs and features. 

Tell us — for doubtless thou canst recollect — 
To whom should we assign the Sphyux's fame? 

"Was Cheops or Ccphrenes architect 

Of either pyramid that bears his name? 

Is Tompcy's I'illar really a misnomer? 

Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer? 

Perhaps thou wert a Mason, and forbidden 
By oath to tell the secrets of thy trade ; 

Tlien say what secret melody was hidden 
In Memuon's statue which at sunrise played ? 

Perhaps tliou wert a Priest ; if so, my struggles 

Arc vain, for priestcraft never owns its juggles. 

Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat, 

Has h(ib-a-nobbcd with Pharaoh, glass to glass; . 

Or dropped a half-penny in Homer's hat, 
Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass; 

Or held, by Solomon's own invitation, 

A torch at the great Temjilc's dedication. 

I need not ask thee if that hand, when armed. 
Has any Roman soldier mauled and knuckled, 

For thou wert dead, and buried, and embalmed, 
Kre Romulus and Remus had been suckled : 

Anlifiuily appears to have begun 

Long after tiiy primeval race was run. 

Thou couldsl develop, if that withered tongue 
Migiit tell UH wiiat those sightless orbs have seen, 

How the world looked when it was fresh and young, 
And the groat Deluge still had left it green; 

Or was it then so old that History's pages 

Contained no record of its early ages? 

hal's travels. 251 

still silent! incommimicative elf! 

Art sworn to secrecy? then keep thy vows; 
But prythee tell us something of thyself — 

Reveal the secrets of thy prison-house ; 
Since in the world of spirits thou hast slunilaered, 
What hast thou seen — what strange adventures numljered? 

Since first thy form was in this box extended, 

We have, above-ground, seen some strange mutations : 

The Roman empire has begun and ended, 

New worlds have risen — we have lost old nations, 

And countless kings have into dust been humbled. 

While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled. 

Didst thou not hear the pother o'er thy head. 
When the great Persian conqueror, Cambyses, 

Marched armies o'er thy tomb with thundering tread, 
O'erthrew Osiris, Orus, Apis, Isis, 

And shook the Pyramids with fear and wonder. 

When the gigantic Memnon fell asunder? 

If the tomb's secrets may not be confessed. 

The nature of thy private life unfold: 
A heart has throbbed beneath that leathern breast, 

And tears adown that dusty cheek have rolled : 
Have children climbed those knees, and kissed that face ? 
What was thy name and station, age and race ? 

Statue of flesh — Immortal of the dead ! 

Imperishable type of evanescence ! 
Posthumous man, who quitt'st thy narrow bed, 

And standest undecayed within our presence. 
Thou wilt hear nothing till the Judgment morning. 
When the great Trump shall thrill thee with its warning. 

Why should this worthless tegument endure, 

If its undying guest be lost for ever ? 
! let us keep the soul embalmed and pure 

In living virtue, that when both must sever, 
Although corruption may our frame consume, 
The immortal spirit in the skies may bloom ! 

252 hal's travels. 

Mustapha drives a good business opening tombs 
and selling the contents. Ricli jewels arc some- 
times found in the sarcophagi with tlie dead bodies. 

Mustapha Agah is a high functionary in Thebes. 
From the battlements of his house (a mud edifice 
standing just behind the great columns of the for- 
mer porch of the Temple of Luxor) float both the 
flags of Great Britain and America. He is con- 
sular agent for both nations. So Mustapha is a 
great man among the Thebans — higher than the 
governor himself. I shall long remember Mus- 
tapha, and so will every American who visits 
Thebes — especially if he drinks coflec and smokes 
the fragrant lataika. Mustapha never foils to fur- 
nish his visitors with the chibouk and coffee in true 
Eastern style. !Mustapha is a quiet, pleasant man, 
perhaps fifty years old, and as black as the ace of 
spades. He speaks pretty good English, but can 
neither read nor write. You may think it strange 
that a United States consul should be unable to 
read, but then you must remember that Mustapha 
is in Egypt, and fully competent to attend to all 
-matters likely to come before him, without the aid 
of letters. 

The time has noAV almost come for our departure. 
This evening, ere the twilight dews begin to fall, we 
shall bid farewell to Mustapha, and to the remains 
of what was once a city of a hundred gates ! Mus- 
tapha has loaded his little cannon, and will doubt- 
less give us a parting salute, for he pays marked 
respect to Americans. All the guns and pistols ou 


board the "Hiawatha" and "Minnehaha" are in 
readiness for one grand discharge. "We shall pro- 
ceed to Grand Cairo, which will occupy from two to 
three weeks, as we have several stoppages to make 
along the way. From Cairo we shall make a break 
for the Holy Land. Will write you again from 

"We have spent six days in Thebes, which is little 
time enough to see the ruins here. Those who have 
ample time should stay longer. To those who come 
here I commend the chibouk and coffee of Mustapha 
Agah at the British and American Consulate. 

But evening approaches, and I must close. The 
"Minnehaha" has been set in order, and will soon 
be afloat upon the turbid bosom of the Nile towards 
the Great Sea. She has many hundred miles to 
float. If I kill a crocodile on the downward voyage, 
I shall make a note of it. Farewell. 



254 iial's travels. 



Most glorious is life upon the iTile ! I have tra- 
velled in almost every way that man ever travelled : 
have footed it upon the hroad plains of the far 
West ; have dashed across the same plains on the 
Avild Mustang; have floated upon the hosom of the 
mighty Mississippi in steamers little less than 
palaces ; have descended the beautiful Tennessee 
on the primitive " broad-horn ;" whizzed from one 
end of the Union to the other on the " iron steed ;" 
liave been towed upon the " raging canal ;" steamed 
across the billowy Atlantic; traversed tlio wild 
regions of Switzerland, and crossed the towering 
Alps, in the great lumbering diligence ; rode upon 
the restless bosom of the blue Mediterranean ; 
rocked through the desert on the back of the fleet 
dromedary, ijnd galloped over many, many miles on 
the nimble-footed donkey. In all these ways have 
I travelled; but for luxurious pleasure, none of them 
begin to compare with a snug boat upon the Nile. 
Nile-travelling is " flrst-class" poetry, compared with 
which all other modes are commonplace prose, and 
tliat of the most prosy kind. 


This is now the eighth or ninth week that we 
have been in blissful ignorance of the world. We 
have no cares except to eat, drink, and sleep. We 
are neither cursed with news nor newspapers. 
Neither pay nor receive visits from gossiping 
neighbors ; nor does the post or carrier-boy leave 
the daily or weekly paper at our door. Therefore 
we are happy. We pity our poor deluded friends 
in America who keep themselves "posted" by 
reading the papers, and distress themselves sorely 
when things don't go to please them. Some we 
know are miserable because they see horrible spec- 
tres of the "glorious Union busted up" and clean 
gone ; while other poor devils are utterly miserable 
because of their inability to bring about said " bust- 
up." Other some distress themselves grievously in 
view of the making of the next President, while 
ghosts and goblins dire haunt the visions of those 
"illustrious self-sacrificing patriots" who have sig- 
nified their willingness to yield to the wishes of 
their countrymen, and to be placed in the Presi- 
dential chair. And what painful anxiety must 
weigh upon those benevolent men who take it upon 
themselves to arrange and pack committees and 
delegates for the national farce (by courtesy called 
" convention") preparatory to making a President ! 
I say, I pit}^ you, my enlightened friends — from my 
soul I do. Would that you could have a few weeks 
respite upon the l^ile from the painful cares that 
beset you ! 

To give you some idea of our ignorance — and 

256 hal's travels. 

consequent bliss — I will inform you that we do not 
even know who is Speaker of the House of Repre- 
sentatives, or whether it has a Speaker at all. We 
heard in Rome (that was a long time ago) that Con- 
gress had met, and would proceed to organize, if 
sueh a thing were possible, but up to this time wc 
have not heard the result. "We have ceasud to 
trouble ourselves with either speaking or thinking 
of politics, and I almost dread to see the time come 
when the state of public affairs in Uncle Sam's do- 
minions shall be forced upon me. Two or three 
weeks ago I ventured to ask my friend Smith what 
his ideas Avere about the state of politics at home, 
I saw a cloud of any thing but pleasure darken his 
brow; he puffed his chibouk viciously for a few 
moments, and then, Avith an emphasis peculiar only 
to Smith, he replied, '' D — n politics!" I said no 
more, and he continued to puff furiously. I thought 
strange of this, for Smith was a rampant politician 
when I first knew him. But such is the eilect of 
travelling in the East — especially upon the Nile. 

But this is not telling you of our doAvnward voy- 
age from Upper Egypt. Twelve days ago, just as 
darkness Avas settling doAA'n upon the ancient city of 
Thebes — but Avhile it Avas yet high noon in Ilunts- 
ville — the lliaAvatha and ^Minnehaha Avere loosed 
from their moorings under the toAA'ering portico of 
grand old Luxor, and floated out into the stream, 
when six guns from the boats announced their de- 
parture for the lower country. These guns Avero 
responded to by the burning of a pound and a half 

hal'stravels. 257 

of Egyptian powder by old Mustapha, whose little 
cannon thundered forth a report that was echoed by 
the mountains and cavernous tombs miles away 
across the river, and we were off, gliding away from 
the city of forty centuries, which was falling into 
ruins, perhaps, while the seven hills of Rome were 
yet a wilderness. 

Our progress down the river was slow indeed, 
owing to adverse winds, and it was not until the 
afternoon of the following day that we reached the 
city of Ghena, in the neighborhood of which stands 
the old 'Temple of Dendera, one of the lions of 
Egypt that must needs be seen by all travellers who 
ascend the Nile. We of course found the omni- 
present donkeys waiting for us — they are always 
waiting, and such donkeys ! Wish I could send 
you a picture of our party as we mounted those don- 
keys and rode away. You would laugh some. Three 
of the twelve had bridles, and five had saddles, two 
of the saddles had stirrups, the rest did n't. The 
donkeys were of the smallest breed, and almost as 
woolly as sheep, which they resembled, except the 
ears. When mounted by their riders, little could be 
seen but their head and part of their tail. The ears 
were all the portions visible of those ridden by the 
ladies — the flowing skirts concealing all else. The 
donkey on which Miss Kissiah was mounted, though 
diminutive, was a vicious little scoundrel, and man- 
aged early in the excursion to spill his precious 
burden upon the ground. She bravely remounted, 
however, and with two Arabs to hold her on, and a 

258 ual's travels. 

third to lead, she managed to stick to Lim until our 
return to the boats. Smith's doukey got him oft' 
twice — (Smith ahvays gets thrown oft") — once by fall- 
ing, and the second time by lying down. His driver 
got a sound cursing, but no "backsheesh" that day. 

The Temple of Dendera is comparatively of mod- 
ern date, being perhaps something less than two 
thousand years old ! Some portion of it is said to 
have been built by Cleopatra, and one of the walls 
is adorned with a sculptured portrait of that queen 
in bas-relief. Her son, by Julius Ciesar, is standing 
by her. Like all other Egyptian temples", it is a 
Biassive building, every stone of which is carved 
with images and hieroglj'phics. The architecture is 
magnificent. With the exception of Karnak, it con- 
tains some of the largest columns I have seen in 
Egypt. This temple is almost perfect, but much of 
it is hid by the ruins of the mud-built city that once 
surrounded it. The rubbish has all been removed 
from the interior, and the immense halls stand va- 
cant and desolate, tenanted only by bats and owls. 

Finishing up the Temple of Dendora, we returned 
to our boats through luxurious Avheat-ficlds — cut 
loose and floated away, with the sincere desire that 
the next jiarty of travellers may find bettor donkeys 
than we found. Three days after, we brought up at 
the city of Girgeh, the place where we had stopped 
on the u]tw:ird trip to see the Pervishes and the 
dancing-girls. AVe did n't take donkeys here, but 
determined to "do" the town on foot. We formed 
in single column, and marched tlirough the bazaars, 

hal's travels. 259 

stared at and followed by a hundred shirt-tail na- 
tives. The ladies of our party were regarded with 
admiTation, and would have been crowded almost to 
suffocation if we had not kept the crowd back by 
flourishing our sticks, and occasionally cracking the 
heads of the more curious.^, They stand in mortal 
dread of the cane or "koorbash" of a "howadji." 
A koorbash is a keen whip, made of the hide of 

The people of Girgeh are not the most noted of 
Egyptians for cleanliness. Indeed, they may be 
called, by fastidious people, filthy. It was soon after 
our visit to this city on the way up that the horrible 
discovery of the nameless vermin was made among 
us. Mrs. Smith made the discovery on that occa- 
sion, and she continues to affirm to this day that 
they came from Girgeh, which is probable. Re- 
turning to our boats after this our second visit, which 
had been made with the utmost caution, a proposi- 
tion was made that a general examination be gone 
into. It was done, and the result was horrifying. 
The ladies retired to their cabins, and were not long 
in finding abundant evidence of the presence of the 
enemy. The gentlemen stripped, and were equally 
successful. There were voices of lamentation that 
evening on board the Minnehaha, which were 
heartily responded to from the portals of the Hia- 
. watha. The ladies almost sobbed, so great was their 
distress. The gentlemen laughed, and tried to make 
a joke of it; but the laugh was dry enough, and the 
ladies refused to be comforted. Smith, as his cus- 

2G0 ual's travels. 

torn is, tried to be Avitty on the occasion. Smith is 
always trying to be witty. He said " there was no 
use trying to diso-uisc the fact : that we were a lousy 
set." This remark brought a shower of indignation 
upon Smith's head from the ladies, each of whom 
called him a "brute." ^nd it icas a brutal remark ; 
but Smith is a practical man, and believes in calling 
things by the right name. There is generally some 
trutli in what Smith says, however homely his lan- 
guage. His wit is not always apparent. 

Towards night we loosed from Girgeh, and floated 
down the river, carrying with us vivid impvcssions of 
its inhabitants. In due course of time — I don't re- 
member how long — we arrived at Ossiout, the largest 
cit}- in Middle Egypt, Here we of course found 
donke3-s in waiting, and were not long in mounting 
and setting off for the mountains which lie just back 
of the city. Our object was to visit the tombs which 
lione3'comb the solid stone cliiis. There are a great 
many of them, some very large, say fcu'ty by iifty 
feet square, smoothly cut in the solid rock, and 
adorned with thousands of hieroglyphics and figures 
in bas-relief on the walls. Seated on some loose 
stones in the largest one of these tombs we sung 
several hymns, (it was the Sabbath day,) winding up 
with some good old camp-meeting songs, after which 
we departed and went into the city. Passing 
through the bazaars, we found the crowd so dense 
that we were obliged to dismount and send our don- 
keys round another way, while we crowded through 
on foot. We met a funeral-procession, the largest 


I have seen. It was led by banners and drums. 
The body lay upon an open bier, and immediately 
following were about fifty mourning-women, whose 
hideous yells were terrifying. I never heard such 
weeping. You would have thought the heart of 
each and every one of them was in the very act of 
breaking snap in two. They were hired for the 
occasion, and seemed determined to earn their 

In one of the bazaars of this city I saw the first 
really handsome Egyptian woman that I have met 
with. If I could wield the pen of a modern novel- 
writer, I would endeavor to give you some idea of 
her beauty ; for nothing short of that could do her 
justice. "Were I to say that her sparkling black 
eyes shone like diamonds, and her teeth like pearls, 
it would not be exaggeration. ISTor would it be 
more than just to say that her swelling bosom and 
beautifully-rounded arm were such as a Venus 
might have envied. No Grecian beauty ever pos- 
sessed features more regular. Showers of coal- 
black tresses fell in rich profusion upon her grace- 
ful neck, and lay nestling upon her voluptuous 
bosom, just enough of which was exposed to make 
one anxious to see more. She was dressed in rich 
Oriental costume, with full flowing silk trowsers, 
clasped at the ankles with heavy gold bands. Her 
head, neck, bosom, and wrists were adorned with 
golden trinkets, elegantly wrought into various 
devices. I suppose the solid gold ornaments she 
wore were worth, by weight, at least a thousand 

262 hal's travels. 

dollars. The gracefulness Avith which she sat, aiid 
the mild and modest expression of her beautiful 
face, belied the calling of this fair creature ; for she 
was a woman of the town, sitting in the market- 
place, waiting to be hired. 

Leaving Ossiout, we next halted at Eckmicn, a 
town containing twenty -five or thirty thousand in- 
habitants, without counting the dogs, of which 
latter there seemed to be several regiments. All 
Egyptian towns swarm with dogs. Eckmien is 
noted for nothing in particular, so far as I know, 
except as being the place where General Adem Bey 
is stationed with the flower of the army of Egypt. 
Here is the first division of the army, and the 
favorite soldiers of the Pasha. They are all 
!t^ubians, and as black as night ; but, black as they 
are, a finer-looking body of men I never saw, the 
least one of which is six feet high, and as straight 
as an Indian. Adem Bey, the commander, is a 
noble-looking man, standing six feet six in his 
stockings, and wearing a fierce moustache. He is 
a brave soldier, and one of the first officials in the 
Government. Besides being commander of the first 
division of the army, he is at present acting as Deputy 
Governor of this portion of Egypt. As to color, 
General Adem Bey is as black as a stack of black cats 
in a dark cellar at midnight, but has, withal, a mild 
and pleasant face. Soon after we landed at Eck- 
mien, my friend Smith proposed that we pay a 
formal Ansit to this dignitary. I agreed, of course. 
So, taking our dragoman, we sallied forth towards 


the encampment, not, however, until we had put 
on clean linen, and Smith had donned his regiment- 
als. Smith would carry his gun. He always car- 
ries his gun. As we reached the encampment, and 
were passing up an avenue between rows of white 
tents and black soldiers, approaching the marque 
of the Gleneral, who had seen us coming from a 
distance, and dispatched two servants to welcome 
us to his quarters, it was then and there that Smith 
compromised the dignity of both of us, and came 
well-nigh turning our pompous visit into a farce. 
It was in this wise : Just as the General was ad- 
vancing to welcome us, in true Eastern style, (for 
my companion's gaudy gold lace and gilt buttons 
had inspired him with profound respect, if not 
awe,) Smith, seeing a flock of pigeons some hun- 
dred or two yards away, broke towards them in a 
brisk run ; nor would he stop until he had shot at 
them.- He missed, of course, and then came puffing 
and blow^ing back to the tent, evidently pleased that 
he had had a shot at the birds. The General sup- 
pressed a smile, while the servants almost burst 
with laughter. I confess that my face burnt with 
mortification, but Smith heeded none of these 
things. Our dragoman introduced us, giving my 
friend the title of Colonel. Smith seized the hand 
of the General, and gave it a genuine Yankee 
shake. We were invited to seats on the voluptuous 
divan, by the side of our entertainer, while servants 
brought us cofl:ee and chibouks. We smoked and 
chatted with his sable highness for nearly an hour, 

264 hal's travels. 

and found him to be a man of no mean capacity. lie 
had heard of America, and had an impression that 
it was a great country, but far, O very far aAvay ! 
Said he was ghid to see Americans, and hoped we 
liad enjoyed our visit to Egypt. Smith did his best 
to impress the fiict upon our host that Americans 
were the greatest people in the world, and flatter- 
ingly insinuated that the !N"ubians might rank next. 
Tliis flattering speech pleased the General wonder- 
fully, and the servants were immediately ordered to 
re till the pipes and coftee-cups. He showed us his 
arms and accoutrements ; also those of his soldiers. 
Had all his musical instruments brought in and 
pompously exhibited. Exi)ressed much regret that 
our visit had fallen upon the Moslem Sabbath, 
(Friday ;) otherwise he Avould have given us a 
chance to review his soldiers on parade. Would 
also have treated us to a musical entertainment, 
and a characteristic Nubian dance. But the Koran 
forbade these performances on Friday, and we had 
to forego the pleasure. Our visit to Adem Bey was 
an agreeable one, and but for the approach of even- 
ing, would have been prolonged. Smith more than 
ever believes in the power of gold lace and gilt but- 
tons, being assured that it was his uniform that in- 
sured our welcome. 

Leaving Eckmien, our next stopping-place was 
Bcni-Hassen, where once stood a considerable 
town ; but a few years ago it was destroyed, and its 
inhabitants all killed by Ibrahaiu I'asha, except a 
very few, wlio escaped by running the gauntlet. 


hal's travels. 265 

Nothing now remains but the blackened, crumbling 
walls. The cause of the destruction of this town 
and people, was their thievish and marauding pro- 
pensities. It had become dangerous for travellers 
to stop there to see the many large and curious 
tombs in the neighborhood, and consequently the 
Pasha sent his soldiers and wiped it out of exist- 
ence. The tombs in the mountain back of this town 
are many and curious ; some very large, and nearly 
all adorned with paintings — better executed than 
most I have seen elsewhere. One of these tombs 
is peculiarly interesting, because it is thought by 
many that it ip the same in which the body of 
Joseph rested until the exodus of the Israelites. 
One of the walls bears a painting, which it is 
thought represents the arrival of Jacob and his 
sons and their families into Egypt, and their pre- 
sentation to Pharaoh. The number of figures in the 
painting corresponds with the number of Israelites 
upon their first arrival. Their flocks and herds and 
little ones are all represented. It may or may not 
be Joseph's, but it is at least a very interesting 
tomb. It is about forty-five feet square, and per- 
haps fifteen feet to the ceiling, which is supported 
by several columns. 

Below Beni-Hassen we stopped at Minyeh, and 
visited a very large sugar-manufactory, in which are 
employed six hundred men. It is managed by 
French and Kussians. "We strolled about the town 
some time, but nothing turned up worthy of note. 
IsTearly half the people of Minyeh seem to be one- 

266 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

eyed, and dogs are numerous. Our next stop was 
at Bc'uisooef, the Urst important town above Cairo. 
"We landed about two miles from tlie town, which 
being rather an out-of-the-way place, there were no 
donkeys present (a wonder !) to carry us into the 
city. We footed it. "Went through the bazaars, 
and laid in a fresh supply of pipes and tobacco. 
Heard a quarrel there which exceeded any thing 
in the way of a war of words I ever heard. An old 
woman was pitching into a shopkeeper in the most 
approved higli-pressure style. The scene was ludi- 
crous beyond description. At first the tongue of 
the man went like a bell-clapper, but he soon wilted 
before that old woman. She assumed a thousand 
grotesque shapes and attitudes, swaying her arms 
in the air like wiuding blades, while her long bony 
fingers contracted and expanded, and clutched, as 
though she was tearing the very wind-pipe from the 
neck of her antagonist. Iler eyes glared like those 
of an enraged hyena, while she champed her teeth 
and foamed at the mouth like a rabid wild boar. 
She yelled like an Indian, and drew her lean swarthy 
face into a myriad of frightful contortions. All the 
time the words flew like bullets, and seemed to 
take effect, for the man grew perceptibly less at 
every onslaught. "When the old woman was ex- 
hausted and nearly ready to fall, a young, athletic 
woman, about the size of a jackass, and almost as 
stout, came to her relief, and continued the war in 
the same strain, until a man in authority approached 
and put an end to the fun. At the close of this 


quarrel we hurried to our boats, and floated down 
the river. 

It is now the fourteenth day since we left Thehes. 

Our progress has been slow, head winds having 

greatly impeded our course. Our amusements and 

pastimes coming down have been about the same 

as when going up — shooting, running, jumping, and 

kicking up our heels generally. Yesterday being 

Sunday, our little party of twelve met on board the 

Hiawatha, and while you were sleeping and per- 

^^h^^nce d -'aming in Huntsville, we worshipped God 

" fashion, with prayers, and hymns, 

""^onished Arabs standing 

268 hal's travels. 

distance, and the head of the great Sphynx is peer- 
ing above the sand-hills ; but as the wind is strong 
against us, we shall not reach them before to-morrow, 
perhaps. After I have seen and climbed some of 
them, I will write you another letter. 

Yours, etc., Hal. 

hal's travels. 269 



Prepare for a long stride — from the l^ile to Jeru- 
salem — for this letter must cover all the time and 
space Intervening since my last letter — which, if I 
remember rightly, was closed late one evening, 
many days ago, as we floated down the Kile in 
sight of the pyramids of Sakhara and Dashore. It 
was the next morning after the close of that letter, 
I was aroused early by my friend Smith, (who is al- 
ways up with the lark,) and told that we were near 
the pyramids. I stuck my head out of the window, 
and found the nose of the Minnehaha stuck in the 
mud on the west bank of the river, and the gallant 
Hiawatha moored alongside — sails all furled. In 
the distance were the pyramids, just gilded by the 
rising sun. All our party were soon astir, and Mo- 
hammed was ordered to hurrj^ up his cakes, that we 
might have an early breakfast and be off. Moham- 
med was unusually spry that morning, and by seven 
o'clock we were ready to start. 

Now, my friend, if you feel inclined to travel, you 
may imagine yourself one of our party, and make 
the excursion with us. Here are the donkeys wait- 

270 hal's t 11 a V els. 

iug for us. You may mount this little mouse- 
colored one. No matter about a bridle — a donkey- 
boy will guide liim for you with a stick. Your 
saddle has no stirrups, but that is all right in Egypt. 
AVith Achmet ahead, we will strike out through 
this large palm-grove. Half an hour's ride, and here 
we are in the midst of the ruins of old Memphis, or 
Noph. We look around upon desolation. See 
nothing here but stupendous piles of broken bricks 
and fallen walls, with here and there a broken 
image half buried in the earth. We think imme- 
diately of the prophecies concerning this once proud 
city: "For iSToph shall be waste and desolate, with- 
out an inhabitant;" and again, "I will destroy the 
idols, and will cause their images to cease out of 
Noph." How literally fulfilled ! The images and 
idols arc all prostrate and mutilated. We see but 
one that is worth pausing to look at ; it is a colossal 
statue of Kamescs Second, which, when standing, 
WHS between fort}' and fifty feet high. It is fallen 
now, and its feet broken ott^ — otherwise perfect. 

We will hurry on now to the pyramid of Sakhara 
— some two hours' ride farther. See how it grows 
upon us as we approach it! Is it not immense? And 
yet it is a small afiair compared Avith the one we will 
see to-morrow — Cheops. 13ut even this would be the 
wonder and admiration of the world if there were 
none larger. Our dragoman says we cannot ascend 
lliis pyramid. AVe don't believe him — so here we go ! 
He is alarmed, and swears more than a hundred times 
that, wc! will lall aiitl bi'cak oui- in'rks. lie lies, for 

hal's travels. 271 

here we are on the very pinnacle, waving our hats 
at the astonished Smith, who broke down when 
half-way up, and returned to the ground to keep 
the ladies company. 

But let us return to the earth now, and go to the 
tomb of Apis — the cavern in which were deposited 
the sacred bulls worshipped by the ancient Egyp- 
tians. It is near by. Let us look to our pistols, 
for we have read Mr. Prime's account of the attack 
upon himself and party, by a hundred and fifty 
Arabs, when he visited this tomb. True, he and 
his bold dragoman put them all to flight, and walked 
into the cavern without molestation ; but they may 
have picked up some courage since then, and may 
not be so easily routed as when bearded by the fierce 
"Braheem Efiendi." We are all armed, and Smith, 
besides his gun, has got the hatchet from the boat, 
and the carving-knife belonging to our table furni- 
ture ; while Brown carries his volcanic repeater in one 
hand and spiked Alpenstock in the other, looking 
meanwhile as savage as a thunder-storm. The rest 
of us carry each a copy of Colt's best stuck in our 
belts. Brave indeed must be the hundred and fifty 
Bedouins who attack our party ! 'Now, in solid 
phalanx we move on. Smith nobly leading the van. 
We approach the cavern, but see not the enemy. 
Keep a sharp look-out : they may be behind those 
sand-hills, ready to pounce upon us. We halt, and 
send Jones ahead to reconnoitre. He returns and 
reports the coast clear. All right ! Let us enter. 
There is "nary" Bedouin about. No doubt Prime's 

212 ual's travels. 

demoustration, and his threat to throw the old sheik 
of the tribe "over the river into the Red Sea," fright* 
eued them clean away entirely. The brave " Effendi" 
deserves the thanks of all travellers for frightening 
away this band of thieves. 

But is not this a tremendous hole in the ground? 
See, it is a finely finished gallery, cut in the living 
rock, two or three hundred yards in length. Here 
are twenty-five niches in the sides, each one con- 
taining a mammoth sarcophagus, in which the 
bodies of the sacred bulls were placed after being 
embalmed. Most of the sarcophagi have been 
opened, and the bull mummies removed. One of 
them is in New York, in Dr. Abbott's collection 
of Egyptian antiquities. Here is a richly finished 
chapel in which is the broken image of a calf, and a 
prostrate Egyptian before it. Don't you suppose 
it was this custom among the Egj-ptians that first 
suggested to Aaron the idea of makiug a golden 
calf? Very likely, you say. 

Well, we have now explored this tomb, let us 
return to the light of day and take lunch, for I am 
hniigiy. Here, we will cat in the cool shade in the 
mouth of the tomb — rest till the cool of the evening, 
and return to our boats. 

• • • • • 

Ghezeh ! Yes, here we are at Ghczeh. "VVe 
floated down here last night after returning to our 
boats from the Bull Tombs. Yonder are the p>Ta- 
mids of Cheops and Belzoni, and wc are all in a 
fidget to be oft*. These arc better donkeys than wc 

hal's travels. 273 

had yesterday, and we will set off in a brisk gallop. 
The pyramids seem just out yonder, but they are 
six miles away. Were you ever so deceived in 
distance ? But at this gait, it will not take long to 
get there. Stirrups and bridles are luxurious ap- 
pendages to donkeys — are they not ? ISTow we near 
the base of old Cheops. Here we pass by the great 
Sphynx, about which we have read, and whose 
picture we have so often looked at in Olney's Geo- 
graphy. Although it is a perfect figure hewn out 
of a mountain, and one of the most wonderful things 
in the world, we will not stop to see it now, but 
hasten to the pyramid, which is more wonderful 
still. Are you not astonished and bewildered? 
Do you not wilt right down before this, the greatest 
work ever conceived by man ? I do. I feel op- 
pressed — a sensation something akin to nightmare — 
and not the least inclination towards an effort to 
comprehend the great pile. jSTow, first, before we 
yield ourselves into the hands of these savage-look- 
ing Arabs, who wait here to carry travellers to the 
top of the pyramid, let us ride around and view it 
on all sides. Wonderful ! wonderful ! you exclaim ; 
and so it is. To give our friends at home some 
idea of its size, I think we may say that its base 
covers four times as much ground as the public 
square of Huntsville ! — perhaps more — certainly not 

But here we are now, in a crowd of a hundred 
Arabs — great stalwart fellows. What a scufile! 
Each one claims the privilege of conducting us to 

274 ual's travels. 

the top of the pyramid ; and we shall be fortunate 
if we get out of their hands "witli whole bones. We 
are clutched b}' as many as can jiossiblyget hold of 
us at a time, and each one seems determined to 
hold his grip. Fighting with donkey-boys is child's- 
play to this. But here comes the old sheik of the 
tribe to our rescue. He orders our tormentors to 
desist, and appoints two for each of us, who hurry 
us rapidly from rock to rock up the rugged steep 
before us. Pausing to rest when about one-fourth 
of the way up, we sec all our party winding their 
way up behind us, except Smith. lie is still at the 
base, fighting with the Arabs. Before reaching 
here he swore roundly that no yellow-skinned dpvil 
of an Arab should carr}- him up the pyramid ; that 
he had failed yesterday to reach the top of Sakhara, 
and that he Avould to-day go up Cheo])S unassisted, 
to retrieve his character — for Smith is an ambitious 
man. He tights bravely, Init in vain, for it is not 
the Arab policy to let any one go up Avithont aid 
and "backsheesh." Boor Smith is exhausted, and 
is now borne up the rugged height in the arms of 
his tawny friends. He has ceased to struggle, but 
Bwears at every step that he will not pay them 
a cent for their labor. Now here we are at the top, 
higher than we ever were before, being nearly two 
liundrcd yards from terra tirma. On top is a plateau 
twenty feet square perhaps, so that we can sit and 
rest and look about securely. People on the ground 
do not seem to us near so large as grasshoppers. 
From here wc have a liuc view of Cairo and the 

hal's travels. 275 

Kile — aud to the west we see away off for perhaps 
a hundred miles into the great Libyan desert. 

We now descend, and go into the heart of this 
great pile of stone. This part of our day's work 
will not leave a favorable impression. We shall 
only remember it as a laborious winding and crawl- 
ing through dark, hot, dust}^ labyrinths, where suf- 
focation seemed almost inevitable. We find two 
large chambers, one called the King's, and the other 
the Queen's tomb. This is all. 

Smith, you observe, has got over his passion, and 
is in excellent humor. Instead of refusing to pay 
the fellows who carried him up the pyramid, he 
has paid them more than double. They have been 
expatiating upon the beauty of Mrs. Smith, and 
have thereby struck the old gentleman in a tender 
place — for Smith has his weak points. 

We will now lunch and rest, after which we will 
return to our boats, marvelling at the greatness of 
the works of Egypt. It will be night when we get 
there, and so we will sleep as we fioat down the river. 

Cairo, the Grand ! the Magnificent ! the Beauti- 
ful ! Here we are again in " Cairo the Victorious !" 
How delightful to get once again into a fine city, 
after wandering for weeks among mud huts aud 
squalid villages ! How gay the streets, and with 
what glee we mount the fat, round Cairo donkey, 
and dash through them ! This pleasure almost 
counterbalances the regrets we experience in leav- 
ing our dear little " Minnehaha," in which we have 

276 hal's travels. 

dwelt with so much ease and delight for more than 
six weeks. The removal is a sad one, but the bustle 
and gayety in this great city of five hundred thou- 
sand people will soon dispel the sadness. 

Wa take rooms at the " Hotel des Pyramides," 
and will now be oif for a ride. Here we go, down 
the street, full speed to the park, or great square, by 
the "Hotel d'Orient." Hold! "Halloo, Captain! 
is that you ? Sure enough it is ! Captain Jim 
Williams, of Tennessee, ITnited States Minister to 
the Sublime Porte. Glad to see you. Captain. 
Give us your hand. You arc looking remarkably 
well. First home-face I've seen in the East. Just 
from Constantinople, eh ? Waiting here for your 
family, who have gone up the Nile ? Yes, we heard 
of them up there. Return home in eight days, do 
you? Thank 3'ou. "We will call at the Legation, 
when we reach the Golden Horn. No; we have 
heard no news from home for many weeks, nor do 
we seek any. Don't tell us any, if you please. 
Sorry you told us of the election of Speaker of the 
House of Representatives. Thank you. We will 
call at your room this evening, and get what informa- 
tion you can give us about travelling in Syria, as you 
have recently taken a tour in that country. We 
leave for Jerusalem in three days. Good-day !" 

We spend three or four days in Cairo, shopping 
and riding and walking, visiting mosques and such 
places of interest as we failed to see when here 

hal's teavels. 277 

Kow let us be off for Alexandria ; for tlie steamer 
sails from there to-morrow for Joppa, and we must 
be on band. "We go to the depot and buy our tickets 
from a big black nigger, wbo cheats us out of several 
pennies, in making change. There are only ten of 
us now — two of our party, Mr. and Mrs. S., pas- 
sengers of the Hiawatha, having stopped in Cairo. 
"We give them up with much regret. The train 
reaches Alexandria about eleven o'clock at night, 
and we again domicile at the India Hotel. Smith of 
course quarrels with the landlord, and beats him 
down in his prices. Smith always argues the great 
difference between wholesale and retail, and gene- 
rally gains his point. It would be hard for our 
party to get along without Smith, although I must 
confess that I am sometimes seriously provoked 
with him. 

The time has now come for us to go aboard the 
steamer. "We all settle our bills at the hotel, except 
Mr. Smith, who seriously disputes his, because 
there is an item of sixpence in it that he contends 
ought not to be there. He swears he will not pay 
it, and the landlord swears he shall. We start for 
the door, but Smith is stopped by the landlord, 
backed by all the servants about the hotel, from the 
head-waiter down to the- bar-tender. The door is 
closed on him, and, by main force, they wrench the 
entire sum of sixpence from the enraged Smith, 
before permitting him to depart. I will not say 
that they frightened the brave Smith, but then a 
dozen stalwart waiters, including the cook, with a 


huge butcbcr-knitb, is not just the crowd for one 
maa to contend with, when a sixpence will settle 
the ditHculty. The old gentleman thinks a little 
hard because the rest of us did not back him in the 
iight; but I guess he will get over it soon. "We are 
all glad of it ; for penuriousness is his besetting sin, 
and we wanted to see him taken down. 

"We have a smooth and pleasant sail of thirty-six 
hours, when the towers of Jaffa (ancient Joppa) 
loom up before us. The country before us is Pales- 
tine ! "We are about to tread upon holy ground. 
We hardly realize it, but it is so. We leave the 
steamer and go ashore iu small boats, and here we 
tire, actually in Joppa — a city that is said to have 
existed even before the flood, and to be the very 
place where Noah built the ark. It was at tlifs 
port that Hiram, King of Tyre, landed the cedar 
timbers which he sent from Lebanon, for the buikl- 
ing of Solomon's temple. Hiram and Solomon 
were very great friends. This, too, is the place 
where Jonah camo, when he wanted to run away, 
to keep from going to Nineveh to i)reach. lie 
•found a shi}) about to sail for Tarshish, and — but 
3'ou know the story about. the whale. The Ajiostle 
Peter came down here once, and lodged with one 
Simon, a tanner, who had his tan-yard somewhere 
l)y the seaside. Part of the house of Simon you 
see standing liere yet, and here in the court is a 
well, by which stands a very large stone trough, 
which they tell us was a vat used by Simon for tan- 
ning k'atlier. Peter had a remarkable dre^n while 



sleeping upon tlie top of this house, an account of 
which you will find by reading the ninth chapter of 
Acts. During that same visit Peter performed a 
wonderful miracle — even the raising of Tahitha 
from the dead. Joppa, you see, is not a very large 
place, but is very beautiful to look at — from a 
distance. It is built upon a rock, which is in shape 
something like a potato-hill. The houses are all of 
stone, and very substantial. The streets are from 
four to six feet wide, and in many places we ascend 
them by steps, like going up stairs. We all go in 
a body now, and call upon Eev. Mr. Sanders, 
American Consul and Missionary at Joppa. "We 
are delighted with the family, for they receive and 
entertain us like home-folks. 

But we must not^jtarry in Joppa. Our dragoman, 
has procured horses, and we must be on the road to 
Jerusalem. "We sleep at Ramleh (ancient Arima- 
thea) to-night, some ten or twelve miles on the way. 
Let us mount and be off. But wait ! Smith, 
Brown, and myself go down and take a sea-bath 
first, after which we sally out at the Jerusalem gate, 
(which, by the way, is the only gate on the land 
side of Joppa,) and take our way through the finest 
orange -groves perhaps in the world; for Joppa, 
you know, is noted for oranges. The different 
groves or orchards are fenced with prickly-pear 
hedges, which grow to enormous size. We see 
some with trunks three feet in diameter. We soon 
leave the orange - groves and enter upon a most 
beautiful plain, everywhere blooming with flowers. 

280 hal's travels. 

Two hours' ride brings us to Lydda, a very ancient 
town ; the same where the Apostle Feter cured 
Eneas of the palsy, after he had kept his bed eight 

About night we arrive at Eamleh, and sleep in a 
convent, being well received and entertained by the 
monks. Early in the morning we visit an old ruin, 
with a very high tower, just outside the town, of the 
history of which wo know nothing. From its sum- 
mit we have a fine view of the hill country towards 
Jerusalem ; but owing to the fog in that direction, 
we cannot see Mount Carmel. 

Leaving Ramleh, we soon strike into the moun- 
tains, where locomotion is exceedingly diiKcult, 
owing to the stony road, or, we might say, owing to 
the absence of a road. It is a sterile country, the 
rocks showing their teeth on ever}' side, with scarce 
soil enough to atibrd an}' green thing, except in the 
little valleys. "VVe pass through the valley of Aja- 
lon, which will be for ever memorable, on account 
of the great battle fought there between the Israel- 
ites and Amorites, when Joshua commanded the 
sun to stand still upon Gideon, and the m^on in 
the valley of Ajalon. You will lind an account of 
the fight somewhere in the book of Joshua. We 
see little more of interest in the way, except the 
tomb of Samuel, which is covered by a mosque on 
the summit of the mountain. 

We are getting near Jerusalem, and our impa- 
tience to see the Holy City increases. Wc spur our 
jaded horses on, and. after climbing another and 


another mountain, the glorious sight appears ! "We 
pause and look. We see little of the city except 
the high walls and the domes of the highest houses. 
We see that mountains are truly all around ahout 
the city, and that the city and its surroundings are 
beautiful. We exclaim, " Beautiful for situation, the 
joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion, the city of 
the Great King !" We enter by the Jaffa or Beth- 
lehem gate, and wind our way through the dark, 
narrow streets, to the Mediterranean Hotel, which 
is hard by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We 
are intensely interested in every thing we see ; for 
there is not a locality in or around the city that is 
not holy. 

After spending a few days here, we shall go down 
to Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead Sea, then to 
Hebron ; after which we will return here, and spend 
a few more days before setting out to the ISTorth, 
towards Damascus. 

Yours truly, Hal. 




I HAVE now been ten days in and aronnd Jerusa- 
lem. I have gone about Zion ; have -walked upon 
the walls and told the towers thereof. Have stood 
upon Calvary, and sat upon the Mount of Olives ! 
Strolled down the valley of Iliunom, and humbled 
myself in the valley of Jehoshaphat. Knelt in the 
Garden of Gethsemane, and sung songs of rejoicing 
upon the !Mount of Ascension. Drunk from the 
Pools of Solomon, and washed in the Pool of Siloam. 
Worshipped in the cit}- of Bethlehem, and rested in 
the quiet village of Bethany. Sat in the shade of 
the broad-spreading oaks of Mamre, and walked 
through the vineyards of Eshcol. Slaked my thirst 
at the Fountain of Elisha, and bathed in the waters 
of the Jordan. Have indeed wandered for many 
days amid sacred scenes, and in holy places, of the 
which T would love to present you a faithful aecount, 
but that Avere impossible. The undertaking would 
be too great. If, however, you are disposed to make 
a little excursion, we will pay a hasty visit to some 
of the interesting localities. 

"We will start from St. Stephen's Gate, on the east 


side of the city. It is called the Gate of St. Ste- 
phen because the martyr Stephen was led out here 
to be stoned to death. Here, just within this gate, 
is the Pool of Bethesda, the same around which the 
"impotent folk, of blind, halt, and withered," used 
to lie and wait for the troubling of the waters. 
Here Jesus healed a man who had been diseased 
thirty-eight years. The pool is three hundred and 
sixty feet long, one hundred and thirty broad, and 
thirty-five deep. It is almost dry now. Leaving 
this pool, we go up through the city along the Via 
Dolorosa, or the " mournful way," so called because 
it was up this street our Saviour went to Calvary 
bearing his cross. The first place of interest we 
reach is the house of Pilate, the same, or at least on 
the same ground, where the mock trial was had and 
Jesus condemned, and where he was scourged, and 
a crown of thorns placed upon his head. From the 
top of this house we look down upon the plateau 
on which stood the Temple of Solomon. In the 
midst of it, and just over the spot where the Ark of 
the Covenant stood, stands the Mosque of Omar, 
which is guarded strictly to prevent Christians en- 
tering. This is the nearest approach we can make 
to it, the Moslems believing that the touch of a 
Christian would defile their sacred edifice. The 
mosque is a fine octagonal building with a graceful 
dome, and the square around it very beautiful — a 
fine position for the splendid building which once 
occupied it. 
Leaving the house of Pilate, we proceed up the 

284 ual's travels. 

street towards Calvary and the church of the Holy 
Sepulchre. Our guide points out many stations 
along the way where incidents occurred as the Lord 
passed along. The places where he fainted are 
shown, and the place where the cross was taken from 
him and placed upon Simon the Cyrenean. 

We enter the church of the Holy Sepulchre, and 
near the door see multitudes of people falling down 
and kissing a large marhle slab. This we are told 
is the "stone of unction," where the body of the 
Lord was embalmed for the burial. Without paus- 
ing, we hasten to the interior, and after crowding, 
squeezing, pushing, and jamming for half an hour, 
in a dense crowd of the most motley people we 
have seen this side of Naples, we gain admittance 
into the room in Avhich is the Holy Sepulchre. We 
stoop down and look in, and then enter the very 
tomb in which the great Redeemer of mankind lay 
for three days ! It is a holy place, and we enter it 
with no little awe. Coming out of the sepulchre, 
we ascend a flight of steps in another part of the 
building, and stand upon Calvary, and see the very 
rock in which the cross was planted. We only 
tarry in these places for a moment, promising our- 
selves more time upon some future occasion. The 
crowd here is too dense for enjoyment, for this is 
the season ibr the pilgrims to be in Jerusalem, and 
they of course all flock first to the Church of the 
Holy Sepulchre. These pilgrims are not just the 
kind of people we would desire to see them. They 
arc rough, ignorant, superstitious creatures, many 

hal's travels. 285 

of whom have journeyed from far countries to Jeru- 
salem without once changing their garments, and 
are, consequently, any thing but clean. They be- 
lieve that a pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre seals 
their everlasting salvation, and they make the pil- 
grimage at all hazards. The smell in such a crowd 
is not so sweet as roses, and we only stop long 
enough this time to see the most noted localities in 
this large building, such as the tombs of Melchise- 
dek, Godfrey, and Baldwin — the place where the Sa- 
viour appeared to many after he was risen, the place 
where the cross was found, etc. We observe in 
passing that the church is exceedingly rich in gold 
and silver lamps and chains, and some parts decked 
out in such profusion of gilded ornaments as to ap- 
pear ridiculous. The church is cut up into almost 
innumerable chapels and compartments, and when 
all the diiferent sects claiming rights here are wor- 
shipping, it is a Babel, if not worse. The Greeks, 
Latins, Armenians, and Copts occupy different parts 
of the house, and each sect does its level best to 
make more noise than its neighbor, which is hard to 
do. The Greeks are in the ascendant, and outsquall 
the rest, but then the cracked and crazy organ of 
the Latins comes in for a large share of glory in the 
way of making a noise. These different sects hate 
each other like cats and dogs, and, but for the body 
of Turkish soldiers always on hand, would fight as 
such. This is a humiliating thought for Christians. 
My friend Smith talks like a book on this subject, 
and says if he had the power he would wipe the 

286 iial's travels. 

whole establislimcut from the face of the earth, and 
disperse the fanatical zealots who worship here to^ 
the four quarters of the globe. Smith is right. 
The scenes enacted here are disgraceful instead of 
Iionoring to Christianity. 

Leaving the church of the Holy Sepulchre, we tra- 
verse the narrow, gloomy street through the Jewish 
quarter of the town, and enter the Synagogue of 
the Jews, where worship is going on. The house 
is crowded with men, while the women stand out- 
side in the open court. The leader of the meeting 
delivers his discourse sitting, after which the whole 
congregation join in chanting the Law. A scroll is 
exhibited, and the people seem almost frantic at the 
sight of it, and as many as can possibly do so, rush 
to and kiss it or the veil which had concealed it. It 
is a copy of the Law — very ancient. Their Avorship 
seems to be sincere, and their reverence for the Law 
of Moses profound indeed. I believe these Jews 
worship God in spirit and in truth, and look perhaps 
more anxiously for the first coming of the Messiah 
than Clu'istians do for his second coming. 

Leaving the Synagogue, we wind through some 
narrow crooked lanes, which it would be vain to 
attempt without a guide, and reach a section of the 
ancient wall that surrounded the Temple of Solomon. 
This is the "Jews' Place of Wailing." Here the Jews 
have been permitted for many centuries to approach 
the precincts of the Temple of their fathers, and 
bathe its hallowed stones with their tears. It is a 
touching scene : Jews of both sexes, of all ages, and 


from every quarter of the eartli, are here raising up 
a united cry of lamentation over a desolated sanc- 
tuary. Old men may be seen tottering up to these 
massive stones, kissing them with fond rapture, 
while tears stream down their cheeks. "Well may 
the poor Jews repeat the words of the Psalmist, 
(Ixsix. 1, 4, 5 :) "0 God, the heathen are come into 
thine inheritance ; thy holy temple have they de- 
filed ; they have laid Jerusalem on heaps. We are 
become a reproach to our neighbors, a scorn and 
derision to them that are round about us. How 
long, Lord? wilt thou be angry for ever? Shall 
thy jealousy burn like fire?" These Jews may be 
seen here in this little paved area weeping and wail- 
ing every Friday. 

"We now leave the Place of Wailing, and emerge 
from the city at the Zion gate, and stand upon that 
portion of the hill of Zion which is now without the 
walls. It is a "ploughed field" now, according to 
the prophecy concerning it. ISTot far from the gate 
is the tomb of David. A large mosque stands over 
it, and it is considered by Moslems too holy a place 
for Christians to enter. So we cannot see the tomb 
of the great Shepherd King, the mosque being 
closely guarded. JSTear the tomb is the house of 
Caiaphas, now an Armenian convent. We enter, 
and are shown the little room in which Jesus was 
imprisoned on the same night in which he was be- 
trayed and led away from the garden of Geth- 
semane to Caiaphas. We also see the rock which 


was rolled before the door of the sepulchre, and 
which the angels rolled away. 

We pass on round the city wall, and at the Joppa 
Gate enter the Tower of Hippicus, in which Herod 
had his palace. David's palace was also here. It 
is a very strong fortress, and bears marks of great 
antiquity. Scattered along the diiferent roads that 
lead awa}'' from this gate we see many poor lepers 
sitting begging. They are the most pitiable-look- 
ing objects we ever saw. I suppose they sit here 
now just' as they did in the time of our Saviour ; 
but there is none to heal them now. We see these 
miserable wretches sitting without every gate. 
From this Joppa gate we go down into the Valley 
of Ilinnom, which lies between Mount Zion and the 
Hill of Evil Council. Passing by the upper and 
lower pools of Gihon, wliich are immense reservoirs, 
we enter the deeper portion of the valley, and sit- 
ting down in a quiet shady place, beneath the olive 
trees, where the early spring grass is green and 
beautiful, we sing some of the songs of Zion. Con- 
tinuing down the valley, we come to the well Eu- 
Rogcl, at the junction of the valleys of Ilinnom and 
Jehoshaphat. It was at this well that Adonijah once 
got up a great feast, or barbecue, to which he 
invited all the people, and in the midst of the 
hihirity he caused himself to be proclaimed king, 
instead of his father David. Adonijah, like his 
brother Absalom, was an ambitious young man, but 
not very successful. This well is one hundred and 


twenty-five feet deep. The water is sweet and 

Leaving the well, En-E,ogel, we now turn up the 
Valley of Jehoshaphat, following the road along the 
margin of the brook Kidron, Two or three hun- 
dred yards bring us to the King's G-ardens, a beau- 
tiful spot, highly cultivated. Hard by is the Pool 
of Siloam, into which we descend and drink of the 
pure water, which is clear as crystal. ISTehemiah 
(iii. 15) mentions the King's Gardens as being be- 
side the Pool of Siloah. On the opposite side of 
the valley from this pool is the village of Siloam, 
clinging to the rocky side of the Mount of Offence. 
It was here the tower fell and killed the eighteen 
men. As to the Pool of Siloam, you of course 
remember the story of the man who was boru blind, 
and restored to sight by washing in this pool. "We 
all likewise wash in it. Kot far above this pool is 
the Fountain of the Virgin, at which, says the 
legend, women accused of adultery in former times 
were compelled to drink. If innocent, it harmed 
them not; but if guilty, they died immediately. 
When the Virgin Mary was accused, she submitted 
to the ordeal, and thus established her innocence. 
Hence its name. We now pass innumerable 
tombs. The slope of the hill to the right is full of 
them, and many are hewn out in the rocky cliffs, 
and now stand open and ghastly. Higher up the 
valley we pass the tombs of Absalom, Zechariah, 
and the Apostle James. They are near together, 
are large and finely ornamented tombs, cut in the 


side of tlie mountain. The tomb of Absalom is 
the finest, but the massive stone monument ie 
defaced by the millions of pebbles that have been 
cast against it b}' the Jews, "who continue to this 
day to throw stones at it as they pass. Absalom 
was a comely youth, and no doubt had a most 
beautiful suit of hair, but he was an undutiful, 
rebellious son, and the Jews have not forgotten his 
wicked rebellion. Hence they cast stones at his 

Continuing up the valley, we reach the tomb of 
the Virgin AEar}-, a very large grotto, into which 
we descend by an easy flight of stone steps. It is 
finely decorated, and scores of gold and silver lamps 
are kept burning here continually, before and above 
the resting-place of the mother of our Saviour. 
The body of the Virgin's mother also lies in this 

A stone's-throw from the tomb of the Virgin is 
the garden of Gethsemane, on what may be called 
the first bench of the ^locint of Olives. It is en- 
closed with a high Avail, and occupies perhaps an 
acre of ground. AVc enter by a low iron door, and 
find the garden Avell kept, being ornamented with 
many pretty flowers. There are a dozen or more 
olive trees in the garden which bear marks of very 
great age. At the lower side of the garden, in 
a little summer-house, we all assemble and join in 
religious service : reading the Scripture account of 
the sufferings and betrayal in this garden, singing, 
and prayer. After gathering a small bunch of 

hal's travels. 291 

flowers, we leave the garden, and ascend to the 
summit of the Mount of Olives. "What a splendid 
view we have from here ! We see the entire city. 
Every house is in view, and as nearly every one is 
surmounted with a dome, the scene is very pleasing. 
We rest here and gaze at the city and its environs 
for a long time. Our Saviour has sat here many 
times and overlooked his beloved city — ay, and 
wept over it too. We open the book and read the 
account of his weeping over it, and of his oft retir- 
ing here to pray. And now we read of his tri- 
umphal ride upon the ass from here into the city, 
when he entered the Temple and drove out the 
money-changers and them that bought and sold in 
his Father's house. From where we sit we see the 
" gate called Beautiful," through which he passed. 
It is walled up now, but we see the beautiful double 
arch in the wall. While our party rest and read, 
we climb an olive tree (there are hundreds of them 
still upon the Mount) and cut several walking-canes, 
which we will carry ho^ne as souvenirs. We get 
half a dozen, which we shall present to Rev. Mr. 

and others, if we are fortunate enough to get 

them home. We will come to-night and get more, 
as the keeper of the grounds is coming this way. 

We now go across the hill and descend to the 
quiet village of Bethany. It is but a Sabbath-day's 
journey (about two and a half miles) from the city. 
We find the village cosily nestled in a little gleu 
surrounded by high hills, the sides of which are 
covered with olive, fig, apricot, and almond trees. 

292 hal's travels. 

Llany of the Louses are in ruins, but still there is a 
considerable population. We iirst sit down on the 
grass, in the shade, and read in the Scriptures about 
Martha and Mary and Lazarus, and about the great 
miracle wrought here. Then descend into the cave 
which was the tomb of Lazarus. Coming- out, we 
go np the hill a little way to the ruins of an old stone 
building which is said to be the same in which that 
happy family lived, and where our blessed Saviour 
used to retire and comnmne with them as his dearly 
beloved friends. The house of Simon the leper is 
also shown, close by. Gathering a few flowers, we 
retrace our steps towards the city, and enter the 
gate of St. Stephen, by the sheep-market. Here we 
find more lepers. They are about the only beggars 
we find in Jerusalem. We pass through the city, 
and emerge from the Damascus gate at the north, 
and go through a large olive-grove to the Tombs of 
the Kings — massive excavations in the rock, where 
it is said the shepherd kings of Israel were en- 
tombed. A description of the deep recesses and 
windings of these excavations would be profitless. 

Ttoturning to the city by the P>ethlohem gatu, we 
mount the wall and make the circuit of the (.'ity, a 
long but interesting walk. 

Descending from the wall, we take a look at the 
interior of the city. Ilalf a minute's M'alk satisfies 
us that Jerusalem is a city more pleasant to look at 
from a distance than to walk in. The streets are 
from eight to twelve feet wide, and in many places 
arched over, which renders them quite gloomy. 

hal's travels. 293 

They are substantially paved, but as no rubbish 
ever seems to be removed from them, they are not 
so clean as could be desired. The main streets, 
and especially the bazaars, are densely crowded with 
people. It is hard to make way through some of 
them. We see every variety of costume, and every 
cast of feature, and hear almost every language that 
is spoken under the sun. Iso danger of losing our 
way in Jerusalem ; for the streets cross each other 
at right angles, and there are various landmarks to 
guide us. The bazaars are well supplied with 
almost every variety of goods, which look like they 
have been handled for years. Beads seem to be the 
principal article of merchandise in that portion of 
the city convenient to the Church of the Holy Se- 
pulchre ; nor are mother-of-pearl crucifixes, and 
other ornaments, forgotten. I think several wagons 
might be loaded with these things. 

But we must not long linger in Jerusalem at this 
time. However interesting the ground on which 
we walk, we must leave it; for there are other 
places intensely interesting that must be seen. 
"We love to sojourn in the city where the Lord of 
the whole earth has walked and talked and suffered 
and died ; to walk over the ground and gaze upon 
scenes once familiar to David and Solomon, and the 
kings and priests who succeeded them; where Peter, 
and Paul, and James, and John, and the other apos- 
tles, have preached the gospel of Jesus Christ ; to 
linger about the hill of Zion and Mount Moriah, 
where the ark of the covenant rested, and where 

294 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

God himself was wont to meet face to face with his 
peculiar people. But we must leave these scenes 
for a season. Our dragoman tells us that the horses 
and all things arc now ready for our departure for 
llebron. AVe shall now be dwellers in tents for a 
few weeks. "We are all glad of it ; for there is a 
romance about tcnt-lifc really charming, especially 
at this season of the year, when the sky is cloudless, 
the air balmy, and the whole face of the earth co- 
vered with beautiful wild flowers. 

Mrs. Smith is almost crazy to get under way. 
Smith has loaded himself down with pistols and 
swords, and swears he is a match for forty Bedouins ; 
which gentry are said to infest the region through 
which ^s•e travel, and sometimes relieve travellers 
of their extra change and clothing. He has also 
bought him a lance, to which he has fastened the 
American flag, the same we had on the Xile. 

The horses are brought to our hotel door. We 
mount and issue forth from the Bethlehem gate, 
and flic down through the valley of Ilinnom, the 
gallant Captain Smith leading the party. I wish I 
could paint you a picture of our leader, as he now 
appears at the head of the column. He looks vene- 
rable, for his gray beard is long and flowing. lie 
has ignored his hat, and now wears an enormous 
turban and tarbouche. Is almost buried to his 
waist in high-top boots, with huge spurs attached 
to them. A red silk Damascus shawl around his 
waist, in which arc a couple of long navy pistols, 
and two more hung at his saddle-bow; his long 


lance gracefully couched, and the stars and stripes 
gayjy streaming from his head. And then to see 
how proudly the old gentleman sits upon his Arab 
steed — the picture is refreshing. We are all proud 
of Smith, feeling assured that, with him to lead, we 
shall have a safe passage through all the Bedouin 
tribes in Syria. 

We take the high road to Hebron, which, in any 
other country but this, would not deserve the name 
of road at all. The first object of interest that 
attracts our attention along the way is 

But perhaps I had better reserve the account of 
our excursion for another letter, which I will write 
when I feel like it. I am tired now. 

Yours truly, Hal. 

296 hal's travels. 



My last letter left onr party winding up the "Hill 
of Evil Counsel" from the valley of Ilinnom, haA^ing 
just emerged from the Bethlehem gate of Jerusalem, 
arfd taken the high-road to Hebron. With your 
permission, we will now continue that journey. Our 
tents and camp-eijuipage have gone forward on bag- 
gage mules, and Ave Avill amble on at our leisure. 
Smith is riding proudly at our head, looking as 
much like a brigand chief as civilized man ever 
looked ; and, to confess the truth, his followers (ex- 
cept the ladies) look little less suspicious than him- 
self. The only redeeming feature in the picture is 
the American flag, Avaving gracefully from the spear- 
head of our gallant and venerable leader, Avhose 
horse is rearing, pitching, and curvating like a tight- 
rigged ship on a rough sea. We should like it if 
our friends could see that horse. Smith calls him 
"Dare-devil," ajid a dare-devil he is, and no mistake. 
A "hard"-looking animal he is, but "mettle" to the 
back-bone. Has a long and exeeedingly gaunt body 
— legs ditto. A slim noek, Avhich inclines to bow 

hal's travels. 297 

up instead of down, and the head attached to it is 
longer than a flour-barreL His ears point straight 
up, and his tail, almost innocent of hair, points 
straight out behind. Baskets could be hung upon 
his hip-bones. But what an eye ! It is one of the 
most villainous eyes ever stuck into a horse's head, 
and protrudes so far that you might knock it oif 
with a stick, and never touch the head ! We greatly 
admire this "Arab steed," and so does Smith, who ■ 
selected him solely on account of his villainous eye. 
The rest of our horses were like unto Smith's in 
appearance, but wanting in mettle. They all have 
"bottom," however, and possess that quality pecu- 
liarly necessary to horses in Palestine — i. e., the 
ability to climb ladders, stone walls, and to walk on 
stilts. None but those who have travelled over the 
roads of this country will understand what this 

The morning is a delicious one. The gentle 
spring sun is just warm enough to make us feel 
comfortable. The whole face of the earth seems to 
be covered with wild flowers of every hue and color, 
and we all press forward with glad hearts and 
buoyant hopes. The natives stare at us as we 
clatter over the hard stone road, in our unique cos- 
tumes, but in our hilarity we heed them not. • 

The first object of interestthat attracts our attention 
in the way, is a well in the, middle of the road, called 
the "Well of the Wise Men," because there is a tra- 
dition that the wise men who came from the East 
to Bethlehem to worship the infant Saviour, drank 

298 iial's travels. 

and rested here after their conference with that 
bloody villain, Herod. One hour farther on, and 
we reach the tomb of Rachel, the wife of Jacob, and 
mother of Joseph and Benjamin. The tomb is en- 
closed in a little white stone building, and is alike 
venerated by all sects — Jews, Christians, and Mos- 
lems. The account of the death and burial of Rachel 
in this place is familiar to every Bible reader. It 
is brief and graphic, and we read it here on the spot 
with more than ordinary interest : " They journeyed 
from Bethel, and there was but a little way to come 
to Ephrath. . . . And Rachel died, and was buried 
in the way to Ephrath, which is Bethlehem. And 
Jacob set a pillar upon her grave ; and that is the 
pillar of Rachel's grave unto this day." Lamps are 
kept continually burning before this tomb. Half 
an hour tarther is Bethlehem, but as we have set 
out for Hebron, we leave Bethlehem to the left and 
go forward. Two hours' ride brings us to the 
"Pools of Solomon." These pools are so much 
more magnificent than we expected to find them, 
that we are struck with astonishment. AVe had not 
expected to see works of half the magnitude. But 
then we must rememl)cr that Solomon Avas a very 
rich man, and generally "bored with a big auger;" 
that is, (lid up things on a large scale. He cer- 
tainly did in the way of building pools, for here 
they are yet to speak for themselves. They are 
mostly excavated in tlie solid rock. The largest 
one is two hundred yards long, two hundred feet 
wide, and fifty feet deep ! The other two arc im- 

hal's travels. 29& 

mense, but not quite so large as the first. They are 
perhaps half full of water now. Here King Solomon 
had his country-seat — his gardens and vineyards — 
and here too, no doubt, he, with his many wives 
and concubines, used to have good times wandering 
through the groves and gardens, and bathing in 
these pools. 

Leaving the pools, we continue towards Hebron, 
over the ancient road which was doubtless trodden 
centuries upon centuries ago by Abraham, Isaac, 
and Jacob, and many prophets, priests, and kings. 
The road is sadly out of repair now, and as we view 
the great heaps of stones over which our horses pick 
their way, we are tempted to doubt the possibility 
of war-chariots ever having passed this way. The 
country through which we pass is mostly barren and 
desolate, and nothing of peculiar interest attracts 
our attention until we find ourselves entering the 
vineyards of Eshcol. Here we find cultivation 
carried to perfection. Every hill-side (and there is 
scarcely any thing else) is terraced, and every foot 
of ground that can bear a vine is planted, and the 
stones so arranged as to prevent the earth washing. 
Every vineyard has its stone "tower" in the centre, 
and in some places we can see as many as fifty of 
these "towers" at one time. These vineyards were 
once owned and cultivated by the gigantic sons of 
Anak, and it was from here that the spies sent out 
from the Israelitish camp obtained the great clusters 
which so astonished their brethren. Eshcol would 
be a good place to pass through in the grape season. 

300 hal's travels. 

"We now approacli Hebron. Its frowning stone 
walls and towers loom up before us. We do not 
enter the city now, but proceed to our tents, which 
are pitched in a pretty green common just before the 
town, hard by the pool over which King David hung 
the assassins of Ishbosheth, as related in 2 Samuel 
iv. 12. This is our first entree into camp, and we 
are hugely pleased with the prospect. All things 
look neat and in order, and we dismount and look 
about us. Here are four tents. The first and 
largest is given up to Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Miss 
Kissiah, and Miss Jemima; the second to Davis, 
Green, and Pipkins; the third to Jones, Brown, 
and myself, and the fourth is for the dining-saloou 
and servants. We glance at our furniture, and are 
astonished at the great display made b}' the few 
packages brought on the mules. The table is al- 
ready spread, and is groaning (tables always "groan," 
you know) beneath the weight of a smoking dinner 
which has been got up with astonishing rapidity by 
Deraetri, our new cook. The table is large enough 
for ten persons to sit around comfortably, and yet it 
can be rolled up into a bundle so small that you can 
almost carry it under your arm. Ten chairs sur- 
round it, which can be reduced in like proportion. 
As to our bedsteads, or cots, tliey can be rolled up 
in bundles little larger than so many umbrellas. 
Those two comparatively small boxes carry all our 
table and kitchen furniture. One mule carries both, 
besides the "kitchen," (simply a sheet-iron trough 
with holes punched in the bottom, and folding legs,) 


and a bag of charcoal to cook with, firewood being 
a luxury rarely enjoyed in Palestine. In short, our 
household and kitchen furniture is complete, and 
we are utterly astonished to see with what facility 
it can be packed (including tents and all) and trans- 
ported from place to place.- 

jSTow, although we are somewhat elated with our 
new mode of life — the luxury and novelty of living 
in tents — still there is a slight sense of uneasiness 
in the camp this evening. We are surrounded 
with a horde of the natives, whose savage frowns 
are any thing but pleasant. These Hebronites are 
a savage, fierce people, and hate "Christian dogs," 
as they call us, with a perfect hatred ; and we are 
therefore on our best behavior. Smith bustles 
about, and tries to appear unconcerned, but he 
frankly acknowledges the corn to me that they are 
not just the kind of people with whom he would 
like a muss. Were they Egyptians, or ordinary 
Arabs, Smith's "koorbash" would have played havoc 
among them in short order ; but they are not Egyp- 
tians nor ordinary Arabs, so he lets them alone, 
and wisely, too. It would be a great relief to all of 
us if they would leave, but we dare not tell them so, 
for fear of a shower of stones. 

Hebron is perhaps the oldest inhabited city in the 
world. We don't know its age, but in l^Tumbers 
xiii. 22, we read that it was built " seven years be- 
fore Zoan in Egypt." When Zoan was built we do 
not know, except that it was built seven years after 
Hebron. That must have been a long time ago, for 

302 ual's travels. 

Zoan has been a heap of ruins for centuries. "We 
care little, however, about the age of Hebron. "We 
know that Abraham used to live here, and that his 
bones are still liure, resting quietly in the cave of 
Machpelah. This "faithful" man and "friend of 
God" was buried here more than thirty-seven hun- 
dred years ago, and during all that time his descend- 
ants have reverenced the spot, and Christians and 
^loslems do the same. The remains of Isaac and 
Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, and Leah, are also buried 
in this cave. With the exception of Jerusalem, no 
place on earth is more hallowed by high and sacred 
associations than this venerable old city of Hebron. 
Here the old patriarchs communed with God, and 
received the promises of the covenant. David once 
lived here — was anointed king, and made this his 
capital for some seven or eight years. It was 
here in ncl)ron that Joab assassinated Abner. 
Ilis tomb is within a stone's-throw of our encamp- 
ment. The rebellious Absalom, whose tomb we saw 
in the valley of Jehoshaphat, made this his head- 
quarters daring the time of his rebellion against his 
good old father David. 

Hebron is a ranch more imposing city than we 
expected to find it. The liouses are all built of 
large liewn stone, and look like they might stand 
for ever, for they stand upon a rock. It contains 
ten or twelve thousand inhabitants, all fierce Mo- 
hammedans, except a few miserable Jews, who only 
exist by sufferance. There are no Christians. In- 
deed, it is hardly safe for Christians to I'isit here, as 

Hal's travels. 303 

we are now doing, much less reside among these 
bigoted, fanatical Moslems. Visitors are fortunate 
indeed if they get away from here without being 
insulted, if not stoned from the heights above the 

Our fancy does not lead us to wander through the 
streets of Hebron to any considerable extent. It is 
not pleasant to be followed up and hooted at by 
crowds of yellow-skinned devils ; we therefore con- 
tent ourselves with a visit to the mosque which 
stands over the Cave of Machpelah, and make as near . 
an approach to the bones of the old patriarchs and 
their wives as possible — no Christian being allowed 
under any pretence to enter the cave. We also visit 
the tomb of Abner, and the ancient pool before 
alluded to. 

Having seen all of Hebron that we desire to see, 
we start back towards Jerusalem over the same road 
we came, making a little detour just after leaving 
the city, to see the last surviving oak in the vale of ,:•*,, 
Mamre. It was here that old Father Abraham first '^ 
pitched his tent, and dug a well, which still affords 
an ample supply of excellent water. "We drink of 
it, and rest beneath the shade of this broad-spread- 
ing oak, and read in our Bibles about the visit of 
the angels to the old patriarch, when he dwelt per- 
haps just here where we sit. The scene around us 
is one of the most beautiful in Palestine, the rugged 
hills standing out in bold relief, each possessing a 
distinct feature of its own, unlike the hills of any 
other country, while the rich olive-groves and vine- 

304 hal's travels. 

yards remind us the while that we are not in the 
land of the West. "SVe feel tliat we are upon holy 
ground. Everj' view the eye rests upon was seen 
as we now see it by Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, by 
Samuel, David, and Solomon. The cities they built 
or dwelt in are now heaps of ruins, but the features 
of nature remain unchanged — the mountains, the 
valleys, the fountains, the rocks are all here. Many 
a time and oft have these good men of old walked 
up and down this lovely vale of Mamre, commun- 
iBg with the great God himself, and covenanting to 
serve him faithfully. They, too, like other men, 
Jiave wept before the Cave of Machpclah. 

But beautiful as is the scene, and pleasant as is 
the shadow of this brave old oak, we must not 
Ihiger here. Ko, the Vale of Mamre, the well and 
oak where Abraham and righteous Lot have oft 
communed together, the very ground where angels 
luive stood, and the vineyards of Eshcol, must all 
be left behind, for we must rest in Bethlehem to- 
day. We cut a few slips from the grape-vines to 
carry home with us, and then take the highway to- 
A\ urds the city of David. At the Pools of Solomon 
Ave rest, and partake of our noonday repast. We 
'here leave the Jerusalem road, and strike oft' to the 
right, down a beautiful vallc}-, iilled with clusters of 
olive, lig, almond, and apriqot trees. Two hours' 
ride brings us to Bethlehem, whose streets we tra- 
verse, feeling that every footfall is upon holy ground. 
Our party enter the gates of the city chanting that 
good old song, 

"The star, the star of Bcthlclicm." 

hal's travels. 305 

"We go first, of course, to the " Church of the ISTa- 
tivity," whose sacred walls we enter with awe and 
reverence. The story of the Child of Bethlehem 
is known to the world. We enter the grotto, and 
stand before the very place where the Saviour was 
born. ISTear by is the manger in which he was 
laid. We open our Bibles and read the interest- 
ing story, which seems now more interesting than 
ever before. We read about the wise men coming 
in and worshipping the child, and presenting their 
costly gifts ; and also about the shepherds coming 
in from the field, after the light had shone about 
them, and the angel, with a multitude of the hea- 
venly host, had appeared unto them, praising God and 
saying, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth 
peace, good-will toward men." These shepherds 
knew that a Prince and Saviour w^as born into the 
Avorld, and " they returned glorifying and praising 
God for all things that they had heard and seen." 
This place was a stable then, and a gloomy place, 
no doubt ; but Joseph and Mary were thrust here 
" because there was no room for them in the inn." 
This grotto with its costly trappings, and the other 
sacred places about this great old church, have been 
so often described that we deem it unnecessary to 
do more than to look on and try to realize the fact 
that we are actually in the very place where" Jesus 
was born. 

Bethlehem, although an imposing little city, as 
seen from a distance, is not a place in which one 
desires to tarry long. When we have seen the 

306 U A L ' S T K A V E L S . 

"Church of the ]N"ativity," and its appendages, we 
depart toward Jericho, the Jordan, and the Dead 
Sea, not forgetting; to take with us a guard of Be- 
douins — thieves whom we hire to protect us from 
other thieves ; for there is nothing more certain 
than that, if a man undertakes to go down to 
Jericho without an escort, he will tall among thieves, 
and be left wounded and naked on the way. The 
country through which we pass is indescribable. 
The hills are utterly barren, and look as though a 
scathing fire had just passed over them, consuming 
every green or combustible thing. Smith says these 
liills seem to have been dropped down at random, 
and then stirred up. If they looked in old times 
as now, I wonder much that Moses did not turn 
away with disgust when he viewed them from 
Mount risgah. To be gathered to his fathers just 
at that time, should have been matter of congratu- 
lation, rather than regret, with the great leader of 
Israel. But they possibly may have been fruitful 
then, or he may have had a spiritual view of the 
goodly country beyond these hills. 

But we must hasten on, or this letter will be too 
long, if it is not already verging that way. It is 
hardly worth the time and space to record the con- 
fusion, not to say consternation, into which our 
party is thrown by our foremost escort, who comes 
galloping l»aek at full speed, with the startling in- 
formation that a large force of robbers is in a ra- 
vine just ahead, waiting for us. It is now that our 
gallant Smith shows his "grit." He takes com- 

hal's travels. 307 

maud in earnest, forms ns into compact order, and 
takes his position at tlie head. Examines his pis- 
tols, couches his lance, and, looking as fierce as a 
thunder-cloud, puts "Dare-devil" into a gallop, and 
cries, " Come on, boys !" We follow, each man 
ready with his revolver, keeping a sharp lookout. 
We gallop on, and on, and on, and finally reach the 
margin of the Dead Sea, without meeting with the 
eneni}^, or even seeing his track. We now know 
that the alarm was a mere trick of our guard, to see 
if we were spunky. Had we shown the " white 
feather," they would have robbed us themselves. 
All honor to Smith for his gallant bearing on the 
trying occasion. 

We arrive at the shores of the Dead Sea. Like 
everybody else who comes here, we pull off our 
clothes and "pitch in," and, like everybody else, 
we of course find the water intensely salt and tre- 
mendously buoyant. We lie on the surface, and 
float without an effort. Come out, and by the time 
we get our clothes on, are encrusted with a thin 
layer of salt. Fill our bottles with water, pick 
up a few handsome pebbles, mount our horses, and 
make tracks for the Jordan, to wash the salt off our 
bodies, which begins to sting and prickle rather 

An hour's ride across the plain brings us to the 
banks of the Jordan, whose rushing waters come 
down like a mill-race. Before us, beyond the river, 
the mountains of Moab loom up, dark and frown- 
ing. We see the peaks of Pisgah, and also Mount 

308 hal's thavels. 

Gilcad. These mountains and this river we liavc 
read of from our youth up, and we now look upon 
them with gladness. "\Ve are soon stripped and in 
the cooling waters, splashing and diving iu the 
most hilarious manner; for it is a great relief to 
get the salt washed otf. After bathing to our 
hearts' content, we come out and sing that good 
old song, 

"On Jordan's stormy banks I stand," etc., 

which certainly are not "stormy" now. Eat our 
lunch, and, under the shade of the trees upon the 
hank, we read in our Bibles about ''those days" 
when John came preaching and baptizing, perhaps 
in this very place. It was here that the great 
multitudes flocked to hoar the preaching of John; 
and it Avas here, or hereabouts, that the Saviour 
liimself was baptized, when the Spirit of God 
descended upon and proclaimed him the Son of the 
Almighty. And it was in this immediate ncighbor- 
liood that Joshua led the conquering hosts of Israel 
over into the promised land. 

But evening approaches, and we must needs sleep 
at Jericho to-night, and that is two hours away; a 
very pleasant ride, however, across the level plain. 
Our ride is enlivened, too, by a tilting match be- 
tween Smith and Brown, who seize this first oppor- 
tunity (it is the iirst level ground we have i)aHsed 
over) to test the real mettle and speed of their 
charges. The}' perform their parts to admiration, 
both horses and riders, until toward the close of the 

hal's travels. 309 

fun, when Smith is thrown at least twenty feet into 
the midst of a patch of thorn-bushes ; from which 
we extricate the old gentleman with no, little diffi- 
culty. He is wounded and bleeding, and will bear 
the marks of the thorns longer than his sojourn in 
Palestine. His spear-head is broken oiF, but our 
dragoman repairs the damage soon after we get into 

Jericho we find a miserable village, jEilled with 
the poorest kind of Arabs. Even the traces of the 
old walls which fell down at the blowing of the 
rams' horns are gone. The glory of Jericho has 
long since departed, and its palaces are heaps of 
ruins, outside the village. Our tents are pitched in 
a beautiful situation on the banks of the brook 
Cherith, which flows from the fountain of Elisha — 
the same fountain whose waters were once bitter, 
but were healed and made sweet by that prophet. 
He healed them by putting in a cruse of salt, and 
they remain healed unto this day. There are re- 
mains of an old house here, which tradition says is 
the house of Zaccheus, where our Saviour stopped 
when in Jericho. The tree that Zaccheus climbed 
is not to be seen. Jesus was in Jericho when word 
was brought him that his friend Lazarus was sick 
at Bethany. "We leave our encampment here, and 
follow the same road which our Saviour travelled, 
when going up to Bethany to raise Lazarus from 
the dead. About half-way to Jerusalem we pass by 
the ruins of a large stone building, said to have 
been once an inn, possibly the same in which the 

310 hal's travels. 

Samaritan lodged the poor fellow who fell among 
thieves. The road all the wa}' to Bethany is despi- 
cable, and the country most of the way ntterly bar- 
ren, and encumbered with large rocks. Our horses 
know their business, however, and take us safely 
through. Smith says he don't believe there is a more 
truthful passage in Scripture than that which says, 

"Jordan is a hard road to travel ;" 

and we all agree with Smith ; for a worse road is 
not to be found. 

We pass through Bethany — over a shoulder of 
the Mount of Olives — through the valley of Jehosh- 
aphat, and again enter the walls of Jerusalem, 
where we shall remain a few days, and then proceed 
on our tour in the North of Palestine and Syria. 
Adieu. Hal. 

hal's travels. 311 



Inasmuch as you accompanied our party on a 
tour from Jerusalem to Hebron, tlie Dead Sea, the 
Jordan, Jericlio, and back to Jerusalem, it is but 
right and proper that you continue with us during 
the rest of our wanderings in the Holy Land. 
Therefore, if you will consent to go, you shall see 
what you shall see. 

Great preparations have been made for our depart- 
ure to the IsTorth. Smith has been the main spirit 
in fitting out the expedition, and has thereby 
brought the rest of us under renewed obligations to 
him. I do not know how we should get along 
without Smith, for he is certainly an "institution," 
and the most active one I ever knew. He attends 
to every thing — dragoman, servants, and horses — 
and when things don't go to suit him, he swears 
like a trooper, in Arabic — for he has picked up at 
least twenty words of the language, which he uses 
upon all occasions — especially when in a passion, 
and that is more than half the time. (Smith says 
it is wonderful how soon a man picks up the lan- 
guage of a country.) Through his influence we 


have almost doubled the number of our arms, for 
there are frightful rumors afloat about the ferocious- 
ness of the Bedouin Arabs in the mountains; and 
it is said that the plains of Sharon and Esdraclon 
swarm with banditti. But our party is large, and 
wc stand in but little fear of the savage descendants 
of Ishmael. AVith our bold captain to lead, we 
feel as if we could ride through a troop of them. 

But we must be under way. Pleasant as it is to 
linger about Jerusalem, we can stay no longer. 
The jingle of the bells of the baggage mules re- 
minds us that our tents will be pitched at Bethel 
to-night, and to reach them we must be stirring. 
While our horses are being got ready, we watch 
those patient mules filing away under their heavy 
burdens, and pity them. There are ^Nlrs. Smith's 
two great heavy trunks strapped across the back of 
one little animal, so small that it could be put 
inside of either one of them, and have ample stable- 
room. It is astonishing to sec the amount of bag- 
gage carried by a fashionable woman. One-tenth 
part of the contents of these trunks would be sulli- 
cicnt for the tour of Palestine, and yet the fas- 
tidious Mrs. S. insists upon carrying it all. I fear 
it will be a tempting invitation to the Bedouins 
to fall upon us. Miss Kissiah Jones is the most 
sensible woman I have seen travelling in the East. 
She is content to carry a small valise, in which she 
carries but one extra dress. She has worn that old 
brown travelling-dross in which she now appears, 
until it seems to be a part and parcel of herself. 

hal's travels. 313 

It is woefully faded under the influence of the pelt- 
ing African sun, and is becoming beautifully fringed 
about the bottom of the skirt; but still, Kissiah, 
with her beaming face, looks well even in it. She 
wears her other dress only on Sundays. (It is a 
black silk.) She says she is determined to stick to 
the " old brown" until the end of the journey — and 
she is right. 

But here are our horses. Let us mount and be 
off. Smith is first in the saddle, and of course leads 
the way. Look at him as he rides off; and see 
with what pride and dignity old " Dare-devil" walks 
away, with head and tail up, evidently proud of his 
master. A prouder horse and rider have never 
sallied forth from the Damascus gate since the days 
of Saul of Tarsus, who emerged from the sa-me 
portal about eighteen hundred years ago, breathing 
out curses upon Christians, while Smith goes forth 
breathing out Arabic curses upon the head of our 
dragoman, who is reeling under the influence of a 
quart of mean brandy; for be it known, that Ibra- 
heem, our Syrian dragoman, is no Mohammedan, 
but a Christian, and is therefore privileged to in- 
dulge in villainous drinks. The order of Good 
Templars has not yet penetrated Jerusalem. Ach- 
met, our dragoman on the Mle, never drinks, for 
he is a strict Moslem. 

"We are now fairly out on the Damascus road, 
pacing along in single file, for the road is too narrow 
for two to ride abreast. It is only a camel road, 
for there are no wheeled carriages in this country — 

314 hal's travels. 

not even a wheelbarrow. The onlj^ thing I have 
seen on wheels is a cannon on the Tower of Ilippi- 
cus in Jerusalem. Our road, although uarfow and 
verj rough, is a great thoroughfare, as we can see 
by the long trains of camels we meet. They are 
mostly laden with goods from Damascus. 

Here we leave the Tomb of Helena on the right, 
cross the upper end of the Kidron, and ascend the 
hill of Scopus. And here we take our farewell 
glance at Jerusalem — its domes, and minarets, and 
gray walls, and the mountains that compass it 
around, with Olivet at their head. We take a long 
lingering look back at the sacred spot, and only 
turn away when the picture grows dim and indis- 
tinct through the quivering tear-drop. Jerusalem 
is enshrined in our affections, and was even before 
we saw it. We can almost adopt the plaintive, pas- 
sionate language of the captive Israelite by the 
waters of Babylon: "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, 
let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not 
remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of 
my mouth." 

Here on our right, on the top of the hill, is where 
stood the ancient city of Nob, and just over there is 
the site of Gibeah. In this little valley between is 
where the interview between Jonathan and David 
took place. That large rock we see peering above 
ground ma^- have been the rock "Ezel," behind 
which David lay concealed. We sit down bore and 
read 1 Sara, xx., xxi., and xxii., and learn therefrom 
that tragical events have occurred here and here- 

hal's travels. 315 

abouts. We now go over to Gibeah, on the oppo- 
site hill. From the summit we have an intensely 
interesting view. We see away down into the 
valley of the Jordan, and the purple-tinted moun- 
tains of Moab beyond. On the south we get a 
peep at some of the buildings on Mount Zion. On 
the west we see the tomb of the prophet Samuel, 
over which stands a mosque. On the north is a 
picturesque village — Eamah, of Benjamin. The 
sites of Anathoth, Geba, and Michmash, are visible 
from this point. 

On this ground where we now stand once stood 
the city of Gibeah. Saul, the first King of Israel, 
lived here ; and here occurred that awful tragedy 
which well-nigh annihilated the tribe of Benjamin. 
We remember the horrible story of the Levite and 
his concubine ; and here, on the spot, we read the 
nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first chapters of 
the book of Judges. Here, too, we read, in 2 Sam. 
xxi., of the hanging of the seven descendants of 
Saul, and of the maternal tenderness of the bereaved 
mother, Rizpah. 

A little farther on we pass the village of Eamah, 
of Benjamin, and notice nothing else of interest 
until reaching Bethel. Here we read the story of 
Jacob's slumber and dream, etc. Here the country 
begins to grow better, and olive-groves, vineyards, 
and fig-orchards now begin to take the place of that 
bleak, barren sterility through which we have been 
coming ever since leaving Jerusalem. Wild flowers 
cover the ground, and we pass in sight of some 

316 iial's travels. 

pretty villages perched upon the tall hills. "We have 
now left the territory of Benjamin, and entered that 
of Ephraim, and the fertility around us reminds us 
that he was blessed with "the jireeious fruits hroui^ht 
forth by the snn, . . . and the precious things 
of the lasting hills." 

Xow we approach a dark and narrow defile be- 
tween two high mountains. It has a startling name, 
and is the dread of faint-hearted travellers. It is 
called the " Eobbers' Glen." Scarcely a season 
passes that murderous deeds are not committed 
here. Before entering it we look well to our pistols 
and ride as close together as possible. Smith un- 
furls his flag and takes the lead with as much pride 
lis Don Quixote ever rode forward to attack an au- 
dacious windmill. "Dare-devil" seems to snuff the 
battle afar off, and enters the gorge with as little 
trepidation as his bold rider. See the old gentle- 
man as he rises in his stirrups and presses forward ! 
Bold indeed will be the brigand who hurls a lance 
at that figure. A whole troop ma}- well pause aiid 
consider before attacking our brave captain, for his 
arms are numerous and in good order — and Smith 
is a man who will not hesitate to use them. Besides 
his long, keen lance, he carries two of Colt's repeat- 
ers at his saddle-bow, two "volcanic repeaters" in 
his belt, and a double-barrel gun strapped to his 
back. So you sec he is'capablc of firing thirty shots, 
besides doine: immense execution with his shinintr 
H})ear. And then, too, the appearance of the man 
will do much towards gaining us a victory. Ilis 

hal's travels. 317 

tall figure, flowing gray beard, huge turban, red 
shirt, brilliant sash, high red-top boots, and ponder- 
ous spurs — these things are enough to strike terror 
into the ranks of the most daring banditti. "We all 
glory in Smith, and well we may, for he is a jewel. , 

But we pass the "Robbers' Glen," and see 
"nary" robber. The country still improves, and 
our ride is most charming. The terraced hills are 
so quaint, the winding valleys so picturesque, the 
wild flowers so brilliant and so plentiful, the som- 
bre foliage of the olive, the deep green of the fig, 
and bright green of the growing wheat on the ter- 
races, all give such exquisite hues to the landscape ! 
Add to this the gray ruins perched upon the hill- 
tops, and the peasants in their gay dresses, red and 
green and w^hite, and the strings of mules and don- 
keys and camels, defiling along the narrow paths, 
their bells awaking the echoes ; and the Arab with 
his long spear, or old brass-bound, flint-lock mus- 
ket ; and the shepherd leading his goats along the 
mountain-side, or grouped with them around a foun- 
tain ; and then — the oddest figure of them all — the 
traveller from the far-west, with his red face and 
nondescript trappings ! These are the scenes and 
pictures around us. 

But we hasten on to Shiloh — a most interesting 
spot. We stop under the shade of this huge oak, 
(the only tree to be seen,) and read some portions 
of Scripture relating to Shiloh. We find that here 
the Tabernacle of the Lord was first permanently 
set up in Canaan ; and here the Israelites assem- 

318 iial's travels. 

bled to receive each his portion of the promised 
laud. It was to this place Samuel, when a child, 
was brought and dedicated to the Lord. There was 
a great auuual feast held iu Shiloh in honor of the 
ark, at which the vilUige maidens were wont to 
dance ; they probably did up their dancing iu this 
little valley just below us. It was on one of these 
festive occasions that the remnant of the Benjamin- 
ites concealed themselves in the vineyards near by, 
and suddenly rushing upon the unconscious dam- 
sels, carried off two hundred of them. It is to be 
hoped they got the old maids. The glory of Shiloh 
departed with the capture of the ark, and it is now 
but a heap of ruins. We see a few swarthy, thiev- 
ish-looking rascals prowling around while we read, 
but either the size of our party, or the formidable 
appearance of Smith, keeps them at a distance. 
They would no doubt like to finger our cash. 

Leaving Shiloh, we soon enter a rich and most 
beautiful valley. The country has been improving 
ever since we entered the domains of Ephraim, and 
there now seems but little room for further improve- 
ment. Such fertile districts are unknown iu Judah 
or Benjamin. Every step we advance proves to us 
that Ephraim was indeed blessed with the " chief 
things of the ancient mountains." The first high 
hill we ascend after leaving this valley reveals a most 
glorious view. Away over yonder we see on a very 
high point a little white building of some kind. 
That is the landmark of Mount Gerizini, and marks 
the spot where the Samaritan Temple once stood. 

hal's travels. 319 

Beyond it we see the point of Mount Ebal. Be- 
tween the two lies the valley and city of Shechem, 
or Sychar. And far, far away on the northern hori- 
zon we discern a peaked cone tipped with snow ; 
that is Hermon ! 

Two or three hours' riding brings us to Jacob's 
Well, just at the entrance of the valley of Shechem, 
and near the base of Gerizim. Here the Saviour 
rested at noonday, wearied no doubt with the long 
walk up the hot plain, having come, like ourselves, 
from Jerusalem. There is but little to be seen at 
this well, for it is almost filled up, but we stop and 
read the story of that strange interview between our 
Lord and the Samaritan woman. The little white 
enclosure we see near by is Joseph's tomb. His 
body was brought up from Egypt, and buried in this 
place. Half an hour's ride up the valley brings us 
to Shechem, situated among the finest scenery in 
Palestine, and one of the most beautiful sites for a 
city from Dan to Beersheba. It is in a narrow val- 
ley, with the steep mountains of Ebal and Gerizim 
towering up on either side. Shechem has a popu- 
lation of about eight or ten thousand, the most vil- 
lainous set of people we have seen since leaving 
Hebron. They take pride in hating Christians, and 
we must be particular not to ofiend them, or we 
may get up an unpleasant affair. "We go into the 
synagogue of the Samaritans, (there are still a few 
here,) and are shown a manuscript copy of the law, 
which the high-priest tells us is three thousand 
five hundred years old. 

320 ual's travels. 

It was in Sbechem that Abraham first pitched his 
tent in Canaan ; Jacob also settled here, and per- 
haps lived near where he dug his well. lie bought 
that "parcel of a field" Avhere his well is from 
Ilamor, Shecbem's father, and there was buried his 
favorite son Joseph. After removing from Shcohem 
down to Hebron, Jacob still retained his plantation 
here, and it was to his fields here that he sent 
Joseph in quest of his brethren, to see if " it was 
well with them and well with their flocks." They 
had removed to Dothan, twelve miles farther. The 
little fellow in his "coat of many colors" followed 
them up with the message of his good old father, 
and they sold him to the Ishmaelites. 

As this was the place where the patriarchs first 
settled in Canaan, so it was, many hundred years 
later, the place where their descendants gathered 
after coming up out of Egypt, and here, on Mount 
Gerizim and Mount Ebal, the blessing and cursing 
took place that we read about in Deuteronomy, 
xxvii. and xxviii. In diflerent parts of the Scrip- 
tures we find that many highly interesting and 
important events occurred here in old times, but 
we will read them at our leisure, when we have 
more time. Those villainous JShechemites who eye 
us so closely would perhaps rather see us move on. 

The next place of importance at which we halt is 
Samaria, once a great and royal city, but now only 
a village. AVithin the walls of an old ruined church 
is said to be the tomb of John the Baptist. From 
the commanding position, and the numerous cvi- 

hal's teavels. 321 

dences of fine arcliitectiire, Samaria must have been 
a most beautiful city. JSTone of the ancient build- 
ings are standing, but the great hewn stones and 
the multitude of columns show that it was superior, 
in beauty at least, to any thing we have before seen 
in Palestine. There are hundreds of columns still 
standing, and hundreds more lying prostrate, scat- 
tered over a vast extent of ground. In one place, 
on a beautiful terrace along the hill-side, stands a 
row of columns near three-quarters of a mile in 
length. There was once a double row of them fifty 
feet apart, but nearly all of one of the rows have 
been thrown down, and have rolled down the 
hill. In many other places columns are standing 
in rows and squares. Vineyards and olive-groves 
now cover the grounds, and magnificent specimens 
of carved stones lie scattered about amono- them, 
from the top of the hill even down into the valley. 
The origin of this city is told with simplicity and 
clearness, in 1 Kings xvi, 23, 24. Its destruction 
was foretold by Micah; and, as we stand on the 
hill and look on these columns shooting up from 
clustering vines and green wheat, and the great 
heaps among the olive trees in the valley below, we 
read with thrilling interest the striking and fearful 
prediction of that prophet, " I will make Samaria 
as an heap of the field, and as plantings of a vine- 
yard ; and I will pour down the stones thereof into 
the valley, and I will discover the foundations there- 
of." This prophecy is fulfilled to the very letter. 
The cause of this destruction we learn from Hosea 


xiii. IG : " Samaria sliall become desolate, for slio 
liath rebelled against her God." 

Leaving Samaria, -we traverse a most picturesque 
and liiglily cultivated section of country. A ride 
of six miles brings us to one of the richest and 
most beautiful little plains we have seen. It is 
Dothan. Here is where Joseph found his brethren 
with their flocks the day they sold him. Elisha the 
prophet once lived here. 

A few hours' ride, and our hearts are rejoiced aa 
we enter that celebrated and extensive plain of Es- 
draelon. It is extensive, rich, and beautiful, and is 
drained by the river Kishou. This has been the 
great battle-field of Palestine. The names of the 
mountains which surround this i)lain are familiar to 
every one who reads the Bible — and the towns are 
also known. Upon entering the plain, we pass 
through Jezreel, once the royal city where Ahab 
built his palace. We stop and open our Bibles, and 
in the twenty-first chapter of First Kings read the 
story of poor Xaboth and his vineyard, and the 
cruelty of the crafty Jezebel. We are now at the 
base of Mount (Jilboa, Avhere Saul and Jonathan 
fell. Tabor and Little Ilermou arc in plain view. 
We pass through the towns of Shunem, Nain, and 
Endor. lu fact, every village, hill, and valley we 
sec in this section, possesses scriptural interest. 
There have been innumerable battles fought and 
rivers of blood shed just where we now are. Here 
tlie Israelites have fought with the Midianitcs, the 
Amalekites, the i'hilistines, the Syrians, and all the 


Canaanitisli tribes, time and again. Here, too, 
many of tlie prophets lived. We pause in ]!^ain, 
and read the touching story of the raising from the 
dead of the widow's son by our Lord. In Endor 
we read of Saul's interview with the witch, when 
she called up the Prophet Samuel. 

In the distance, away to the left, we see the blue sum- 
mit of Mount Carmel, and straight ahead, away across 
the plain, rises Tabor, a tall single cone standing all 
alone. We press forward to the latter, for we must 
camp there to-night. As we cross the rich plain, 
we are amazed to see what a small proportion of it 
is cultivated. But then we must remember that 
there is no encouragement here for industry. This 
is the home of the thievish Bedouin, who scours the 
smooth surface of the plain on his fleet mare in 
search of plunder. This region has always been 
insecure, both for farmer and traveller, since history 
began. The Bedouins make frequent incursions 
from beyond the Jordan, destroy whole crops, and 
drive ofl:' as many cattle as they desire. This know- 
ledge is very annoying to my friend Smith, and he 
now openly declares himself in favor of fillibuster- 
ism. He wants to go home and raise a company 
of fillibusters, and bring them over here to exter- 
minate the thieving Arabs. He thinks a few hun- 
dreds of Uncle Sam's boys would either civilize or 
exterminate them; but rather favors the latter. 
Smith generally has very correct notions of things. 

We now approach Mount Tabor, certainly the 
most beautiful mountain we have seen, for it is 

324 iial's travels. 

thickly (lotted with small oak trees, a sight wc have 
uot before met with in Palestine. A hard climb of 
fourteen hundred feet brings us to the summit. 
The view from here is lovely beyond description. 
AVe take in the whole plain of Esdraelon at a 
glance, from the foot of the liill below us to the base 
of Carmel and Gilboa, one unbroken sea of verdure. 
Little Ilermon is before us, and the villages of Xain 
and Endor clinging to its side. To the east we see 
a long stretch of the Jordan valley, and the moun- 
tains of Gilead beyond it. To the north-east we 
see a small portion of the Sea of Galilee, and away, 
very for away beyond we see the towering cone of 
snowy Ilermon, and a portion of the Lebanon 
range. On the summit of Tabor we find massive 
ruins of an ancient city. "We know notliing of 
these ruins. It was evidently a fortified city of 
immense strength. Many suppose Tabor to be the 
Mount of Transfiguration. It was in the plain near 
the base of this mountain that the bloody battle 
between the French, under Napoleon I., and the 
Turks, occurred. This would have been a glorious 
point from which to view the battle. 

We now leave Tabor, and proceed to Tiberias, 
about five hours' ride, where we shall spend the Sab- 
bath — and a fitting place it is to spend tlie day of 
rest. Tiberias is a walled town, containing about 
two or three thousand inhabitants, just on the mar- 
gin of the Sea of Galilee. It is noted for filth and 
fleas, the latter of which are without number, and 
of marvellouB size. It is said that the flea congress 

hal's travels. 325 

assembles here, and if so, we can readily believe 
that they hold night sessions, and present "bills" 
incessantly. "We can here sing with feeling that 
beautiful parody which runs thus : 

"Oft in the stilly night, 

Ere slumber's chains have bound me, 
I feel the cursed bite 

Of something crawling round me." 

Smith carries the bass beautifully, and Miss Kissiah 
screams out the treble enchantingly. 

Almost every spot around this little sea is holy 
ground, for here is where our Saviour lived, after 
he was rejected by the people of I^Tazareth. He 
taught the multitudes on these shores, and chose 
some of his apostles from the fishing-boats on its 
waters. But these shores at that day were not so 
silent and desolate as now ; they were teeming with 
life. Several cities lay at intervals along its margin 
— such as Capernaum, Chorazin, the two Bethsaidas, 
Gamala, Hippas, Scythopolis, Gadara, Tiberias, etc., 
etc. Yast multitudes lived here, and they followed 
the Lord daily to hear his preaching. Sometimes 
he was so thronged that he would enter into a boat 
and thrust out from the shore. Just over yonder 
we see the place where he once fed five thousand 
people with a few loaves and fishes ; and just here, 
on this little hill, he fed another company of seven 
thousand in a like miraculous manner. We read 
our Bible here with intense interest, because the 
scenes to which they relate were here. Just oppo- 
site to where we now stand is the place where 

326 hal's travels. 

Gadara stood, and where tlie Gadarenes were so 
alarmed at tlie teachings and power of the Lord. 

We take a boat and sail partly round the sea, (it 
is but a little sea,) and visit the ruins of many of the 
ancient cities, such as Capernaum, Chorazin, etc., 
all of which possess wonderful interest. We spend 
most of Saturday and the whole of Sunday in wan- 
dering, and reading the Scriptures — not forgetting 
to bathe in the sacred waters. The only inhabited 
city on this sea now is Tiberias, and it seems going 
to destruction. 

Our sail upon the sea is very pleasant, for there 
is just breeze enough to waft our little ship merrily 
along. As we sail we read the story of the great 
storm that once occurred here, and the great calm 
which followed, when our Saviour rebuked the 
winds. We read, too, of his walking upon the 
water, and of Peter's daring attempt to do the same. 

We leave Tiberias to-morrow for ISTazareth, having 
changed the plan of our route. The danger of rob- 
bers along the road, and some of our party being 
pressed for time, we shall not go to Damascus, but 
proceed to Beyrout, by way of Tyre, Sidon, etc. — a 
more interesting route, I think, than the one by 
Damascus, for it Avill take us by Cana and Nazareth 
and Carmel, and many other places I desire to see. 
Farewell till I write airain. JTal. 

hal's travels. 327 



There is a commotion in our camp this morning 
— a running to and fro of our party, and an expres- 
sion of alarm on every countenance. Brown is miss- 
ing ! Yes, the daring Brown, whose long hair 
and immense beard and moustache have rendered 
him the admiration of the ladies of our party — es- 
pecially Mrs. Smith — is gone, and nobody knows 
where, though all believe that he is kidnapped by 
the Bedouins. Search has been made for him upon 
the hills and all along the sea-shore, and whoops 
and yells have been echoed from crag to crag in 
vain. Brown answers not. He went quietly to 
bed in his tent last night, and has not been seen 
since. He must be in the hands of the banditti, for 
breakfast has now been ready and waiting for half 
an hour, and still he comes not — a circumstance 
never before known since the commencement of 
our travels — for Brown is not a man to slight the 
table comforts. Perhaps he has gone up on the 
Mount of Beatitudes, (which is hard by,) to meditate, 
perhaps to pray. But no. Brown is not addicted 
to such practices, that we are aware of. Besides, 

328 hal's travels. 

we Lave fish — fresh fish from the waters of Galilee 
— for breakfast, and Brown is astonishingly fond of 
fish. But we must not stop supinely here. Captain 
Smith has given the word of command, and we 
must be in the saddle and away. The country 
must be scoured, and Smith swears he will kill the 
first Arab we meet if he give not information of our 
lost friend — and Smith's oaths are fearful. Arming 
ourselves is but the work of a moment, and we 
gallop away from our encampment vowing to eat 
not until our comrade is found — for it will never do 
to give Mr. Brown up so! "Dare-devil" and his 
rider are of conrse in the lead, and the flag is again 
unfurled to the morning breeze. We take our 
course along the margin of the sea of Galilee to- 
wards the outlet of the Jordan, for in that region, it 
is said, the robbers most do congregate. 

A brisk ride of a mile brings us within a few 
hundred yards of the liot springs, which issue from 
the base of tlic mountain and flow ofl" into the sea, 
when — lo, and behold ! we see the comely form of 
the lost Brown issuing from the old building Avhieh 
covers the springs, and innocently taking his course 
towards us — evidently as much surprised to see us 
in battle array as we are delighted to see him. 
He has only been taking a hot bath for his rheuma- 
tism, having got up and left the camp before the 
rest of us were astir. Smith gives him a round 
cursing (Smith will be profone, notwithstanding the 
sacredness of the scenes around us) for his impru- 
dence, and wc wind oui' way back to the encamp- 

hal's travels. 329 

ment, feeling a little foolish, where we find the 
ladies in mortal terror, having seen a couple of 
armed Arabs prowling near them during our short 
absence. The delight of again seeing Brown return 
unharmed, soon recovers them, and Mrs. Smith 
kindly pats his ruddy cheek, and smilingly tells 
him he must not do so any more. Mrs. S. seems 
to have a growing fondness for Brown's moustache. 

We sit down to a cold breakfast, and by the time 
we are through, the tents are struck, the baggage 
packed, and the jingle of the little bells on the bag- 
gage mules is soon heard as they wind their way up 
the steep mountain side. We mount our horses, 
take a last look at the beautiful little sea of Galilee, 
bid farewell to Tiberias and its swarms of fleas, 
and take the road towards 'Nazaveth. — for we must 
sleep there to-night. 

The country through which we travel is very 
pretty and picturesque — rich, but poorly cultivated. 
We pass by some very pretty towns — only prett}', 
however, at a distance — surrounded with rich 
groves of olive trees. In the distance we see snowy 
Hermon, and peaks of the Lebanon range. The 
first town we arrive at possessing scriptural interest 
is Cana, which, for a wonder, is a neat village, 
prettily situated on a hill-side, and surrounded by 
olive and other fruit trees. Cana of Galilee is 
memorable as the place where our Lord performed 
his first miracle of changing water into wine at a 
marriage-feast. Nothing else is recorded of it that 
I know of. There is a large spring of water just 

330 iial's travels. 

outside the town, from wbicli uo doubt the water 
was taken at the time of our Lord's visit, as it is ihe 
only spring near. We see a number of the villag-c 
damsels around it with their water-pots. In an old 
Greek church here some water-pots are shown, 
said to be the same which contained the miraculous 
wine. "We believe as much of the story as we 
choose. There are remains of an old house here, 
said to be that of iTathanael. 

We now hasten on to Nazareth — one of the most 
sacred spots on the face of the earth. We iind 
it a picturesque little city, built upon a hill, but 
surrounded by mountains overtopping it. It con- 
tains a population of over four thousand, two-thirds 
of whom are Christian, and decidedly the cleanest, 
best-looking, best-mannered people we have found 
in Palestine. It is the cleanest and best built 
town we have seen — the houses all built of light- 
colored stone, with flat roofs. 

Nazareth is as a household word throughout 
Christendom, for it was the home of the Saviour's 
boyhood, the scene of his early labors, his prayers, 
and his whole private life. IIow often must he 
have run in boyhood about these streets ! IIow 
often must he have accompanied his mother to this 
very fountain here, hard by our camp ! IIow often 
must he have sat with his parents in the quiet even- 
ings on the housetoji, as is still the custom ! IIow 
often must he have wandered over these rocky hill- 
tops, meditating on his divine mission, and holding 
sweet communion with his Father! But we have 

hal's travels. 331 

no memorials of this period of the Saviour's life. 
It is enouo;h for us to know that the Lord dwelt 
here; that for thirty years he trod this spot of 
earth, and that his eyes were familiar with the 
objects spread around. In his public life we know 
of only^two incidents recorded in connection with 
"the city in which he was brought up." In one 
instance the ITazarenes Vv^ere so oiFended and exas- 
perated when he preached that "they thrust him 
out of the city, and led him unto the brow of a hill 
on which their city was built, that they might cast 
him down headlong." Upon glancing round we 
can see more than one "brow" which might have 
answered their wicked designs. From that moment 
J^azareth ceased to be his home, for " he came and 
dwelt in Capernaum." When he visited " his own" 
people again they sneered at him, and said, " Is not 
this the carpenter, the son of Mary, the brother of 
James, and Joses, and of Judas, and Simon ? And 
are not his sisters here with us ? And they were 
offended at him." 

While in IN'azareth we go round of course to see 
the holy places which the monks are always ready 
to point out — for money — such as the place of An- 
nunciation, Mark's house, Joseph's carpenter-shop, 
etc., etc. ; but we care for none of these things. It 
is sufficient for us to know that Jesus and Mary and 
Joseph lived here. These localities are but guessed 
at by the monks. 

This fountain here just by our camp is called 
"Mary's Fountain;" and it is said that she was 

332 ual's travels. 

there drawing water wlicu the first salutation of the 
angel came to her. 

From Nazareth we proceed towards Acre, pass- 
ing near the base of the beautiful ^[ount Carmel. 
"\Ve do not climb the steep acclivity, but from the 
plain we see the place where the event occurred 
which gives to Carmel its chief interest — the place 
of Elijah's sacrifice. We open our Bibles and read 
the story as recorded in 1 Kings xviii. 17-46. It 
was just up there the great multitude of people 
were assembled to witness the conflict between the 
one prophet of God and the eight hundred and fifty 
prophets of Baal. The people no doubt looked on 
with intense interest, while from morning till noon, 
and from noon till the time of the evening sacrifice, 
the priests of Baal cried in vain. When the sun 
was sinking behind the mountain, Elijah's sacrifice 
was accepted. The last act of the tragedy was per- 
formed on this plain — possibly near where we now 
stand — when Elijah brought the eight hundred and 
fifty defeated prophets down to this little river 
Kishon, and slew them here. Isovr, reader, get 
your Bible and read the eloquent portion of Scrip- 
ture relating this tragedy. Carmel is truly beau- 
tiful, its slopes being covered, like those of Tabor, 
with small trees. 

We pass through a lovely region to-day. The 
plain of Acre is one of the richest in Palestine — 
producing alike luxuriant crops, and the rankest 
weeds in the country. The city of Acre is not men- 
tioned in Scripture, so far as 1 know, but it is cer- 


tainly one of the most important towns in the 
country. It is a very strong]}^ fortified place, and 
contains about five thousand inhabitants, including 
a garrison of Turkish soldiers. I^'apoleon called it 
the key to Palestine. Acre is also called Ptolemais. 
Many battles have been fought here, and the blood 
of thousands of brave men has drenched these plains. 
It was a place of much importance during the time 
of the crusades. But we must not stop to recount 
the scenes that have occurred here. 

From Acre we take the road to Tyre, which 
is most of the wav along the seashore, and over 
exceedingly i^ough spurs of the Lebanon mountains, 
that jut out into the sea occasionally. In crossing 
these spurs our horses are called upon to exercise 
that peculiar talent known only to the horses of this 
country — to-wit, "getting up stairs" and climbing 
ladders. We have left Palestine, and are now in 
Phcenicia, and to-night we sleep at Tyre, the ancient 
"mistress of the seas." These snowy mountain 
peaks to our right are the mountains of Lebanon. 
Just before arriving at Tyre we pass some remark- 
able fountains and reservoirs of immense size, and 
which are as old as history itself. The water is 
brought down in aqueducts from Lebanon, and 
served in ancient times to supply the great city of 
Tyre with excellent water. , The water is ample to 
turn any amount of machinery, but it is only used 
now to turn one solitary mill. 'Near the fountains 
we see some beautiful gazelles feeding, but they flee 
at our approach. 


'\\"c now approach Tyre, where we rest to-uight. 
"We find its walls broken down, and every thing 
about it having an old and dingy appearance ; but 
still it is not the desolate place we expected to find 
it. It has a population of three or four thousand, 
and upon entering the gate we find the streets com- 
paratively clean, and the people looking decidedly 
respectable for Asiatics. This was once the greatest 
of the Phoenician cities, even greater than its mo- 
ther Sidon ; and the great number of old colufiins 
and sculptured stones we see lying about convince 
us that a superb style of architecture prevailed here 
in olden times. These stones and columns are al- 
most innumerable, built up in the modern walls, and 
piles of them lying in the water, and all along the 
beach. AVc are reminded at every step, and by every 
glance, of the prophecies uttered against this city : 
"And they shall make a spoil of thy riches, and 
make a prey of thy merchandise, and they shall 
break down thy walls, and dcstro}" thy pleasant 
liouscs. . . . They shall lament over thee, say- 
ing, 'What city is like Tyrus, like the destroyed in 
the midst of the sea !' " and again, " They shall break 
down the towers of Tyrus, and make her like the 
top of a rock. It shall be a place for the spreading 
of nets in the midst of the sea." Here we see scores 
of fishermen's nets spread upon the old broken walls, 
to dry. AVe sit down here on this ex(jnisitely wrought 
capital, which once no doubt adorned a graceful 
column in some magnificent building, and read wit^ 
intense interest the 27th chapter of Ezekiel, which, 

hal's travels. 335 

for graphic power of description and prophetic ac- 
curacy, is probably unequalled in the whole compass 
of literature. "We recommend a perusal of it to our 

"We are also interested in this city of Tyre because 
it was once the city of King Hiram — and a very 
clever man he was, too, no doubt, for he was a par- 
ticular friend of King David, and furnished that 
monarch with both materials and workmen to build 
his palace. There also existed a good understand- 
ing between Hiram and Solomon — as always should 
be the case between high-minded gentlemen — and 
the former furnished the latter with an immense 
amount of cedar-wood, etc., for the building of the 
Temple at Jerusalem. I told the story of Hiram's 
benevolence to my friend Smith this morning, but 
he was not disposed to do justice to the Tyrian king. 
He thought that Hiram knew "which side of his 
bread was buttered," and only furnished materials 
to the kings of Israel because he feared them. We 
think diiferently. 

"We make a little excursion to the tomb of King 
Hiram, which is some distance outside the town. 
We find it rather a remarkable monument, standing- 
alone, apart alike from human habitation and an- 
cient ruin — a solitary venerable relic of remote an- 
tiquity. It is an immense sarcophagus of limestone, 
hewn out of a single block, twelve feet long, and 
eight wide, (according to the measure of my walk- 
ing-cane,) and six high, covered with a lid five feet 
thick, and resting on a massive pedestal ten feet 

336 iial's travels. 

high. The mouument is perfect, though weather- 
beaten. And here was deposited the remains of 
Sok^mon's friend and ally ! 

Leaving Tyre, we take the road to Sidon, which is 
through the plain of Phoenicia, where a mournful, 
solitary silence prevails. The plain between the 
mountain and the sea is little more than a mile 
wide, and ver}' rich, but, sad to say, most of it lies 
waste. The mountain sides and wild glens above 
are clustering with villages ; Avhile ever}- available 
spot is cultivated in terraces; but the plain is deso- 
late. The only signs of life we see as we ride along 
are a few Arab tents, and an occasional horseman, 
armed to the teeth, and oftoner a little troop of 
gazelles. Security for life and property is unknown 
here save beneath the walls of cities, or amid the 
mountain-fastnesses. Ilcnce the plains lie waste, 
while the steep mountain-sides and crevices are cul- 
tivated. We find some ancient ruins along the way, 
but know nothing of them. The only place of 
scriptural interest we pass is the village of Sarepta, 
the place where the Prophet Elijah came during the 
great famine, and met the poor widow woman 
gathering sticks to prepare her meal. Wc remem- 
ber the interview between them, and the sequel: 
how the widow's meal and oil were miraculously 
multiplied, and how her dying son was sul)sc(|uently 
restored to health by the prophet. These miracles 
impressed Divine truth ujjon that i)0or woman, and 
she confessed — "Now \)y this I know that thou art 
a man of God, and that the word of the Lord in 


thy moutli is truth." We open our Bibles here 
and read the touching story in tlie 17th chapter of 
1 Kings. It is said that here is where tlie Syro- 
phenician woman met tlie Saviour during his visit to 
the "coasts of Tyre and Sidon." We read the 
little story in the 15th chapter of Matthew, and also 
in the 7th chapter of Mark. 

"We here get our first view of Sidon, away in 
the distance, embowered in luxuriant gardens and 
orchards. The view is most lovely, though three 
hours' ride distant. Upon entering the city we find 
the streets after the usual Eastern type, with the 
usual amount of filth, and running in no particular 
direction, but winding about promiscuously. Some 
of the houses, however, approach elegance, especi- 
ally those along the wall overlooking the orchards. 
It contains a population of about five thousand. 
Just outside the town on the seashore we find our 
tents pitched, and, as usual, surrounded by a swarm 
of the natives, who are always curious to see stran- 
gers. Among the rest we are met by a venerable 
old gentleman and all his family, consisting of his 
wife, a I son, and four grown daughters. They are 
Protestant Christians, and meet us as brethren. 
"We are glad to see them, and shake them heartily 
by the hand. The daughters speak English, having 
been taught at the Beyrout Mission. They are 
all dressed in the true Eastern style — the fiowing 
trowsers and long white veils. They carry on a 
school here, and tell ns that they occasionally gain 
additions to their little Church. A Protestant 

338 iial's travels. 

Christian is a rare sight in this seemingly God- 
forsaken country. We do not remember the name 
of this family — and who could remember a regular 
Arab name ? 

We see very few remains of antiquity about 
Sidou, although it is one of the oldest cities in the 
world, as we find it mentioned in the tenth chapter 
of Genesis, along with Gaza and Sodom and 
Gomorrah. It is said to have been founded by the 
great-grandson of Xoah— and that, you know, was 
long, long ago. We find many allusions made to 
this cit}' in various parts of Scripture. Paul touched 
here when on his voyage to Athens. Sidon was 
once the mistress of the seas, but afterwards Tyre 
took the wind out of her sails, and became the 
great city of the East. 

We leave Sidon, and take the road along the 
seashore to Beyrout, one of the most bleak, barren, 
desolate roads we ever travelled. We plunge 
through deep sand, and climb rugged spurs of the 
mountain from morning till night, with a most 
withering Syrian sun pouring down upon us with- 
out mercy. We shall remember this day's ride as 
the most — in fiict, the onlu disagreeable day of our 

r>iit we rejoice not a little as we approach Bey- 
rout. It is like entering Paradise. Before enter- 
ing the city we pass through a forest of oranges, 
lemons, figs, almonds, apricots, peaches, pears, 
olives, pines, and mulberries, all growing luxuri- 
antly, forming a forest of beautifully tinted foliage. 

hal's travels. 339 

Going into Beyrout is like getting into the "wMte 
settlements" after wandering long among savages, 
for here we see white men, and many buildings 
that really look European in style. It is a city con- 
taining about fifty thousand inhabitants, a good 
many of whom are Protestant Chi^istians, for the 
American missionaries have done wonders here. 

Here ends our tent -life in Palestine and Syria. 
Here we bid farewell to mules and horses, for our 
next ride will be upon the troubled waters of the 
restless ocean. It is afiecting to see the parting 
between Smith and "Dare-devil;" for truly if man 
ever loved horse, Smith is the man, and "Dare- 
cle^dl" the horse. Smith has clipped a whisp of 
hair from the horse's mane, (he has none on his 
tail,) which he intends to carry as a souvenir. I 
think a few tears were shed at the parting. We 
also take leave of Ibrahecm, our dragoman, and he, 
from absolute sorrow, immediately gets on a spree. 
The same may be said of Halleel, his assistant, and 
poor Demetri, the cook — for they all claim to be 
Christians, and are therefore privileged to indulge 
in villainous drinks. Our tents are furled up, our 
camp equipage stowed away, and we betake our- 
selves to the good cheer of the Hotel Bellevue, 
where we find some other Americans, one of whom, 
a Mr. Boots, seems to know something about every 
thing in the world, and takes much delight in tell- 
ing all he knows. I may tell you something about 
him at some future time. He is to accompany us 
to Constantinople, at which we are all of course 

340 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

■wonderfully pleased — for Mr. Boots is a man not to 
be lightly regarded, being a man of huge prepon-^ 
derosity, and marvellous abilit}'. "We have already 
set him down as a trump card. 

AVe remain in Beyrout two or three days to rest, 
and during the time wander about the city and 
through the groves and gardens to our hearts' con- 
tent. We visit tlie American Mission School and 
Publishing House, where we are courteously re- 
ceived by llev. Dr. Van Dyck, Dr. Thomson, and 
others connected with- the Mission. AVe are all 
invited to Dr. Thomson's to tea, where we spend 
one of the most agreeable evenings we have passed 
since leaving home. AVe meet many missionaries, 
and other Americans, among them Rev. Dr. Hatty, 
from Damascus, Rcv. Mr. Porter, from Sidon, and 
Rev. ;Mr. Jessup, from Aleppo. Dr. Thomson is a 
veteran in the missionary cause, having labored 
here for eighteen years. He is the author of the 
"Land and the Book," a most excellent work on 

This country is greatly disturbed now. An old 
feud between the Maronitc Christians and the 
Druses is being revived, and much bloody work is 
anticipated. A great many murders have been 
committed within the last few days in the moun- 
tains of Lebanon, between here and J)amascus. 
An open war of extermination between these two 
sects is anticipated. It matters little which exter- 
minates the other, for they are villains all. 

We are now preparing to leave Beyrout. Our 



steamer sails for Constantinople to-morrow. I may- 
write you another letter one of these days. Till 
I do, good-bye. Yonrs, Hal. 

P. S. — I must not forget to tell you that I have 
bought some splendid Arab horses, which, if I suc- 
ceed in getting them home, will create quite a sen- 
sation, I think. In spirit they are of the "Dare- 
devil" breed. The Arab horses, you know, have 
long been celebrated throughout the world for their 
fleetness and bottom. It is said that they can run 
all day. They are also horses of great beauty. 
They are mainly noted, however, for long wind. 

i42 II A L ' S T II A ^^ E L S . 



From the rumbling noise that comes floating 
across the great waters, I am convinced that the 
political caldron at liome is boiling over, and per- 
haps scalding folks. The grandiloquent farce re- 
cently enacted in Charleston has, I see, burst the 
Democratic party wide open, and that some of the 
actors in that funny scene now threaten, for mere 
spite, to tear the Union into several separate and 
distinct pieces. The Black Eepublicans, I observe, 
sneer and slyly laugh in their sleeves at the farce ; 
but they too — many of them — are willing to assist 
in the threatened destruction; and, between the 
two destructive factions, the danger seems immi- 
nent, judging from the sputtering noise they make. 
But while these things are going on, I calmly smoke 
my pipe, and trust that the fool-killer may come 
along in time to save our country from the claws 
of those ranting cock-sparrows who bestride the 
editorial tripod or mount the stump, to preach 
destruction to gaping multitudes. With this com- 
fortable hope I shall smoke on, and leave politics 
alone, and tell you something more about my 
travels in the East. 


'Now, if you would accompany me, it is absolutely 
necessary for you to again draw on your seven- 
league boots, and nerve yourself for the longest 
course you ever ran ; for this letter must take us all 
the way from the coasts of Asia Minor to the shores 
of sunny France — from Beyrout to Paris, l^or 
shall we go direct, for we must needs go by Smyrna, 
Constantinople, and Athens, taking a bird's-eye 
view of these cities, and several other interesting 
points along the route. 

My last letter left us, I think, on the point of sail- 
ing from the city of Beyrout, which we shall now 
proceed to do. We expect a row with the custom- 
house officers, and are not disappointed in our ex- 
pectations. They deem us proper subjects for 
plunder, and consequently proceed to plunder us. 
They examine our baggage most rigidly, and un- 
blushingly declare that most of the little trinkets 
we have picked up in the Holy Land are forbidden 
by law to be taken out of the country. "We bluster 
a good deal, aud my friend Smith even goes so far 
as to get out one of his "six-shooters." But it's 
no use : they are too many for us. Finally, rather 
than lose our little souvenirs, we pay a liberal 
"backsheesh," which is wonderfully efficacious in 
making an official blind to the law. "We shake the 
dust from our feet, and go aboard the steamer that 
awaits us in the harbor. 

All aboard, and the whistle has sounded for the 
last time. We all stand on deck, and, as the noble 
vessel steams- out of the bay, we take a last look at 


one of the most lovely scenes man ever looked upon. 
Bejrout, with its white liouses embowered in g-reeu 
groves of olive, pine, mulberry, fig, and orange, 
backed by the picturesque mountains of Lebanon, 
and the still taller peaks of Anti-lebanon, tipped 
with eternal snow, and all these gilded by the set- 
ting sun, make a scene which no painter ever has 
or ever can portray. 

Now let us see who are our companions du voy- 
age. A glance tells us that it is a motley company', 
composed of representatives from almost every na- 
tion under the sun — Greeks, Arabians, Turks, Per- 
sians, and Europeans. Here we have an old English 
Consul, who has recently "gone and got himself 
married," and has been taking a little bridal tour; 
a Turkish Pasha, who sits like a fat, laz}'^ beast, as 
he is, and smokes continually; several of the Ger- 
man nobility — quite respectable -looking people; 
(we should like Countess Jaw-breaker better, how- 
ever, if she did not sit upon deck with the gentle- 
men and smoke cigars;) also a number of Greeks 
of the better sort, and a goodly number of Ameri- 
cans. And here is our new friend Mr. Boots, the 
knowing man. We arc glad to have liim along ; 
for he has travelled the route before, and knows it 
all by heart, and can tell it too. Besides, he has 
read Virgil and Homer and Ovid, and all them 
-iGreek and Latin fellows, and can tell us all. about 
the classic ground over which we travel. How for- 
tunate we arc, to fall in with Mr. Boots ! ' He speaks 
French, German, and Arabic ! 

hal's travels. 345 

But we are in a great hurry to finisli up our East- 
ern tour, and have no time to dwell upon the varied 
accomplishments of Mr. Boots. We must push 
ahead, and only note the points of most interest 
along the way ; for we are heartily tired of the 
Asiatics, and long to get among more civilized peo- 
ple. Our first stop is at the city of Marino, Island 
of Cyprus, where we go ashore and ramble through 
the town for a few hours, visiting two or three 
churches, and a Greek school, said to be somewhat 
celebrated. We see some ancient ruins, but don't 
know what they are. The most enjoyable portion 
of our visit is an hour spent with Mr. Barclay, 
United States Consul, whose Cyprus wine we all 
pronounce excellent. In a distant part of the island 
Mr. Boots points out Mount Olympus, and dis- 
courses learnedly about the Titans, etc. ; but we 
don't exactly get the hang of his remarks. The 
Apostle Paul landed here, I think, when on his way 
to Greece. Our next stopping-place is the Island 
and city of Ehodes, where the great Colossus used 
to stand, with its feet straddled across the mouth of 
the harbor, for ships to sail in between its legs. 
The Colossus is gone now, and the glory of Rhodes 
has long since departed. It is the most strongly- 
fortified town we have seen; but a ramble of an 
hour or two through its streets satisfies us that it is 
a most miserable place. Boots tells us that in 
ancient times Rhodes was one of the most magnifi- 
cent cities' of the world, and gives us a thrilling 
account of how, in more modern times, it becamo 

346 ual's travels. 

famous as the stronghold of the Knights of St. John 
of Jerusalem, and was the scene of the most heroic 
defences on record. But the valorous Knights were 
iinally beaten by the barbarous Turks. Their city 
was taken from them, and they escaped to Malta. 
Xo Christian is now suffered to dwell within the 
walls of this city. Rhodes is the most eastern 
island of the ^gean Sea. The apostle also touched 
here in his journey to the "West. We pass many 
other of the -dEgcan Islands, but have not time to 
note the classic harangues delivered upon each by 
our learned friend Boots. "We note the island of 
Coos, because it was one of Paul's stopping-places, 
and Patmos, because it w'ill ever be memorable as 
the island to which John the Evangelist was ban- 
ished, and where he wrote the book of Ecvelation. 
We now approach the beautiful city of Smyrna, 
a large city situated at the head of a long bay and 
good harbor. It is beautiful to look at from the sea, 
but an entrance into it convinces us that it is not 
what it promised to be. Smyrna is the great fig 
market of the world. Most of the figs we have in 
the Ignited States are brought from here. A great 
many American ships are loaded here annually. In 
wandering about the town, we are surprised to see 
the great number of lambs that are being slaughtered, 
and conclude that the Smyrnians are certainly the 
greatest sheep-eating people in the world. At the 
door of almost every house the bloody work is going 
on. Our surprise, however, somewhat abates when 
we are told that it is the eve of the Passover, and 

hal's travels. 347 

that it is the paschal lamb that is being slain. These 
people all seem to join in the great feast. "We find 
the bazaars of Smyrna extensive and rich, almost 
equal to those of Grand Cairo. It is a much better 
built city than Cairo. One of the seven Churches 
of Asia, mentioned in Revelation, was located in 
this city. We visit the remains of an old amphi- 
theatre, on the heights just above the city, where it 
is said that Polycarp, an early Christian martyr, fell 
a victim to the fury of the people and the wild beasts. 
His tomb is hard by. The massive ruins on these 
heights attest the greatness of this city in ancient 

Leaving Smyrna, we soon pass by the Island of 
Mytelene, and Tenedos, and the Plains of Troy — and 
here our friend Boots waxes eloquent indeed. Talks 
about the Greeks and the Persians, the Macedonians 
and the Trojans, the Phoenicians and the Romans; 
about Xerxes, and Ajax, and Achilles, and ever so 
many other ancient worthies — all of whom he speaks 
of as familiarly as if he knew them personally. He 
then enters into a lengthy dissertation upon the 
gods and goddesses of old, and talks so learnedly, 
that we all gape and wonder with an admiration 
equal to that manifested by the rustics when the 
village schoolmaster spoke, as told by one Gold- 
smith. He told us of one Coelus, first King of 
Heaven, who gave his crown to his son Titan, who 
afterwards abdicated in favor of his brother Saturn, 
on condition that he (Saturn) should raise no male 
children. Saturn's wife, Ops, soon after had twins, 

348 hal's travels. 

whom the father had baked into a pie for the dinner 
of himself and wife. Saturn did this barbarous 
thing witliout his wife's knowledge, and treated it 
as a good joke ; but she fainted outright, as most 
women would have done, as soon as she knew that 
elie had helped to devour her own children. Ops, 
like a dutiful wife, however, soon presented her 
husband with another child, whom she called Ju- 
piter. This Jupiter would no doubt have followed 
the other children into a pie, liad not Ops deceived 
her cannibal husband bv gi\dng him a stone to eat, 
telling him it was the child. She was vastly pleased 
at the success of her stratagem, but she was forced 
to keep the child hid in a cave on Mount Ida, (now 
in siglit,) out of the way of Saturn, where he was fed 
on milk and honey, and grew up. Old Titan made 
war upon Saturn as soon as he found that he had 
a grown-up male child — a violation of the condition 
upon which he obtained his throne. Jupiter proved 
himself a real Jack the Giant-killer, in assisting his 
father against the monster Titans. After subduing 
the Titans, Jupiter drove his papa from the king- 
dom, and assumed the reins himself. After firmly 
establi. -filing liimsolf upon the throne of the kingdom 
of lleaven, he divided the empire of the world with 
his t^vo brothers, who had grown up in secret as he 
had. To Neptune he gave the sea, and to Pluto the 
infernal regions. All these things Mr. Boots tells 
U8 as we quietly steam along among the Grecian 
Isles, where the occurrences are supi)Osed to have 
taken place, lie tells us of a war waged against 


Jupiter by tlie giants who wislied to revenge the 
death of their relations, the Titans. These giants 
were earth-born monsters of great power, and used 
rocks, oaks, and burning woods for their weapons, 
and heaped Mount Ossa upon Pehon to scale the 
walls of heaven. The gods fled from before them ; 
went into Egypt, and assumed the shape of animals, 
to screen themselves. Jupiter, however, soon ralli ed, 
and, with his son Hercules, put the giants to flight. 
After this war, Jupiter gave himself up to pleasure, 
and as there was no law against bigamy or poly- 
gamy, he married him several wives, and among 
the rest his sister Juno. These wives could not 
agree, and many black eyes and bloody noses were 
the consequence. Jupiter and Juno were in the 
habit of indulging in regular "set-to's," the Madam 
generally coming out second best; but she paid 
Jupiter with interest, by pitching into his son Her- 
cules, and giving him particular thunder. For this 
injustice she was suspended from heaven, with an 
anvil tied to her feet. Her son Yulcan, a deformed 
blacksmith, undertook to release her, seeing which, 
Jupiter raised his foot and kicked him clear over 
the battlements of heaven, when he fell to earth, 
performing the journey in nine days. He alighted 
on the island of Lemnos, (past which we are now 
sailing,) where he set up a blacksmith-shop, and em- 
ployed his time in -forging thunderbolts for Jupiter. 
But it would be tedious to recount all the wonderful 
stories told us by Mr. Boots. He left Juno still 
suspended from heaven with the anvil tied to her 

850 iial's travels. 

feet. Suppose she is still there, "WHiat a comfort 
it is to have such a learned mau in our company I 
He knows some story connected with the gods, 
about every island we pass. 

We now enter the Strait of the Dardanelles or 
Hellespont, which divides Europe from Asia. The 
strait is narrow, and fortresses frown upon us from 
every height. We pass but one town that seems to 
be important — Gallipoli. Boots tells us a story 
about this town, but we don't remember it. He 
points out to us the very place where Lord Byron 
swam across the Hellespont. AVe now leave the 
strait and enter the sea of Marmora, through which 
we ride in a storm that threatens to break things — 
but don't. We got through safe. The storm dies 
away, and we glide smoothly into the still waters 
of the Bosphorus, when — O ye powers ! What a 
scene bursts upon us! The Queen of the East! 
The city of the Sultan — Constantinople — so beau- 
tiful that we are bewildered. It looks like a city 
made without hands. Had all the gods and demi- 
gods known to heathen mythology put their heads 
together and wrought for centuries, their united 
labors could never have fashioned any thing more 
beautiful. At the sight of this queenly city our 
steamer seems to dash forward with increased speed, 
and the white buildings and minarets rajiidly grow 
more and more distinct, until we distinguish the 
celebrated mosque of St. Sophia and the Sultan's 
palace. The steamer now turns a jutting point of 
land called Seraglio l*oint, and glides at half speed 

hal's travels. 351 

into the Golden Horn, the splendid harbor of Con- 
stantinople. At this moment the gorgeous pano- 
rama that opens to our view is one of the most ex- 
traordinary that it is possible to conceive — and an 
attempt to describe it would be a dead failure. A 
bay surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills, rising 
one above another, covered with buildings, domes, 
minarets, and fairy palaces, down to the water's 
edge, intermingled with foliage of cypress groves. 
The harbor is filled with ships, steamers, and caiques, 
(pleasure-boats,) skimming about in all directions. 
The scene is not surpassed in the world. "We stand 
upon the deck of our steamer and take a protracted 
view, drinking in the beauty around us. Get into 
a caique and are rowed to the shore, and find our- 
selves actually in the city of Stamboul. It is well 
that we took a lingering look at the city before 
landing, for the poetry vanishes immediately, as we 
start up the steep, narrow, muddy street, in search 
of a hotel. The contrast is even greater than being 
transported from the Fifth Avenue to the most filthy 
alley in Five Points. 

But as we design only to take a bird's-eye view 
of the cities we visit, we must hurry through Con- 
stantinople in high-pressure style. We first call 
upon our clever American Minister, Mr. Williams, 
who kindly receives us, and gives us a clue to the 
"ropes" of the city. There are nearly three hun- 
dred mosques here, but we only visit a few of the 
most noted, going first, of course, to the Mosque of 
St. Sophia, the largest and most noted, having once 

352 iial's tkavels. 

been a Christian cliurcli, built by Emperor Constan- 
tine. Christians are only admitted into this mosque 
by special lirman from the Grand Vizier, which we 
obtain thronu-h much tribulation and large " back- 
sheesh." After the mosques and the tombs of the 
Sultans, we visit the celebrated palace and gardens 
of the Seraglio, a fiiithful description of Avhioh 
might possibly interest you ; but you must seek it 
elsewhere. We next take a caique and make an 
excursion of many miles up the Golden Horn, amid 
scenes that can be properly called nothing but fairy- 
like. Then we charter a diminutive steamer and 
steam up the Bosphorus, and take a look at the 
stormy waters of the Black Sea. The scenery along 
the way is as grand as it is beautiful. A great many 
graceful palaces dot the shores of the Bosphorus. 
The rest of our time we spend in wandering pro- 
miscuously about the city, through streets that are 
as filthy as they are narrow, and as crooked as they 
know how to be. There are many open spaces and 
squares, however, to relieve the monotony, and 
fountains are innumerable. The bazaars are rich 
and gorgeous beyond description, and are as nume- 
rous as they are rich; for all the business of Con- 
stantinople is transacted in these bazaars. It is said 
that an honest trader has never yet been found in 
one of them ; and our experience has not been such 
as to make us discredit the assertion. Villains all, 
we believe them to be, but still we love to linger 
among them ; for in those bazaars avo sec much to 
amuse us. Every trade has its particular (quarter. 

hal's travels. 353 

In one street nothing is seen but arms and weapons 
of different descriptions; another is filled with 
jewels, diamonds, and precious stones ; some are 
lined with the costly goods of India, while numbers 
of streets are occupied by shoemakers, cooks, con- 
fectioners, etc., each being confined to a distinct 
district. The dififerent trades are appropriated to 
difterent nations, and each dresses in the costume 
of his country : the Armenians, with their huge 
black caps ; the Turks, with their immense tur- 
bans ; the Persians, with their high conical sheep- 
skin caps ; the Greeks, with their long red tar- 
bouches hanging gracefully on one shoulder ; then 
the passengers in every costume — Turks, Albanians, 
Egyptians, Circassians, Greeks, merchants, sheiks, 
dervishes, slaves, water-sellers, and occasionally a 
European or American, in a trim black coat and a 
two-story stove-pipe hat, looking altogether out of 
place — all these give a motley yet picturesque 
appearance to the bazaars. And not the least at- 
traction here is the great number of Turkish wo- 
men, pushing along through the crowd, and peeping 
roguishly at us from under their thin veils. Beware 
of them ; for, in their intense curiosity, they may 
pick your pockets. 

But a few days' rambling must satisfy us with 
Constantinople. We are anxious to hasten on to a 
country where there is less thieving and more civil- 
ization. We go aboard the fine French steamer 
"Carmel," and take a last look at the fairest city 
upon earth, (but very like a whited sepulchre,) 

354 hal's travels. 

and set sail for Athens, leavintj, with much regret, 
our kuowiug friend Boots. In due course of time, 
aud the usual amount of sea -sickness — for the 
^voather is rough — we arrive at Pinous, the port of 
Athens. Landing from the steamer, we take car- 
riages and drive up one of the most lovely vales we 
ever looked upon, surrounded by classic mountains, 
so grouped as to form a landscape surpassed by 
none. We whirl rapidly up the broad road five 
miles, and in little more thau one hour we are 
standing upon the Acropolis, amid the ruins of the 
great Parthenon. A more lovely da}' never dawned, 
and the scene around us is perfectly enchanting. 
~\Yc know not which to admire most — the landscajie 
around, or the massive yet graceful ruins amid 
which we stand. We glance alternately at one and 
the other, and then look down upon the neat, clean- 
looking modern city at our feet. The lovely plain 
of Attica lies before us, dotted with vineyards and 
olive-groves, and surrounded with the picturesque 
and the beautifully tinted mounts of Panics, Pen- 
telicus, Hymettus, yEgaloos. I'he south is open 
to the sea — the Gulf of Salamis. It is hard indeed 
to take our gaze from the delightful prospect, seem- 
ingly more harmonious and 'pleasant to look upon 
than any we have before seen. After gazing long, 
however, we turn to the ruins, aud grope amid 
scenes of fallen splendor till we are weary with 
walking. You liavc no doubt often read descrip- 
tions of the great Athenian temples, and it would 
be ])ut a waste of time for me to attempt it. We 

hal's travels. 355 

find tlie Partlienon and the Erectheum in a more 
ruinous state than we expected ; but the Temple of 
Theseus we find almost perfect, and one of the most 
graceful buildings we ever saw. It is filled with 
broken statues and works of art, found by the 
modern Athenians in their excavations. Of the 
Temple of Jupiter Olympus nothing now remains 
but some twenty or thirty columns, very massive, 
and adorned with highly-wrought capitals. We 
visit the Amphitheatre of Herodes, the Prison and 
Tomb of Socrates, and many other places of inte- 
rest to the reader of Athenian history. 

One place we visit with feelings of more than 
ordinary interest. It is Mars Hill, on the top 
of which the great Apostle of the Gentiles once 
stood and delivered a stump speech that will be 
read and remembered as long as time shall last. 
'We sit down upon the very spot and read a report 
of that speech, which we find in the seventeenth 
chapter of Acts. This little hill stands just between 
the temples of the Parthenon and Theseus, and is 
an admirable place from which to address a large 
audience — and methinks the speaker had a large 
audience that day — " for all the Athenians and 
strangers which were there spent their time in 
nothing else but either to tell or hear some new 
thing." "We can imagine that we almost see those 
philosophers of Epicureans and Stoics, as they came 
forward and sneeringly asked, " "What will this bab- 
bler say ?" Then Paul proudly arose and stood " in 
the midst of Mars Hill," and told the proud Athen- 



ians of their ignorance and superstition ; and point- 
ing up to the gorgeous temple of the Acropolis, we 
can almost still hear his words ringing in the quiet 
air as he said, " God that made the Avorld, and all 
things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and 
earth, dwelleth not in temples made icilh hands!" 
But, as might have been expected, some of those 
philosophers mocked when they heard the sermon. 
Some of the same sort live at the present day, and 
would no doubt mock if Paul were to return to 
earth and preach as he then preached. 

But we must leave Athens. This document is 
already getting lengthy, but we arc bound to make 
it carry us to Paris. Wc go through the modern 
city of Athens, and are much pleased with the 
beauty and cleanliness of the new part, but the 
older part is horrible. The palace of King Otho is 
a tasteful but not a gorgeous building. We go 
through the King's gardens and gather a bouquet 
of flowers, but as neither King Otho nor Queen Otho 
are at home, we do not call at the palace. Hev. Dr. 
King, the high-standing and popular American mis- 
sionary and teacher, is our guide through the city, 
to whom we return many thanks. Athens contains 
a i)opulation of about iifty thousand. 

We arc oft' acrain on the bouiuliiii:- billows, and, 
after doubling Cape Matapan, see no more land until 
we strike the coast of Italy, and enter the Strait of 
Messina, when we " fetch a comi)ass and sail to 
Khegium," and thcnco to the city of Messina, 
which we find in a terrible state of confusion, the 


place being in a state of revolt, and the soldiers 
having possession of the city. It is with much difB.- 
culty we get permission to land, the government 
being terribly alarmed on account of a rumor that 
Garibaldi is coming down upon them with filli- 
busters. Our Consul finally gets permission, how- 
ever, and we go ashore, to see nothing but closed 
houses, gaping cannon in the streets, and myriads 
of soldiers swaggering about, ready to cut down 
any defenceless citizen who may chance to look 
like a revolutionist. 

A short visit satisfies us with Messina, pretty as 
it is, and we return to our steamer, and, steering 
clear of both Scylla and Charybdis, leave the Strait, 
and gain the open sea, and are ofi^ for Marseilles, 
which we reach in little more than two days, with- 
out incident, except two or three little storms, 
which can be got up at any time on the Mediter- 
ranean with five minutes' notice. Soon after leav- 
ing Messina we pass the mountain and volcano of 
Stromboli, whose glowing furnace looks most bril- 
liant at night. We leave the coasts of Sicily, ex- 
pecting and hoping soon to hear a good report from 
it, for the Sicilians have taken a notion to free them- 
selves from the galling yoke of tyranny that has so 
long pressed them ; and if Garibaldi should effect a 
landing with his daring fillibusters, the work will 
be done — and woe to the house of Bourbon ! woe to 
the upstart King of Naples ! Could we meet with 
Garibaldi's expedition, we should be half inclined to 
join it and help him in the glorious work of freeing 

358 iial's travels. 

a downtrodden people. If the revolutionists in 
Sicily succeed, Xaplcs will follow — and tlien the 
powers at Rome may tremble ! 

But we have no time to speculate. "We approach 
Marseilles. The verdant shores of France arc before 
us. Glorious sight ! AVe have longed to quit the 
troubled sea, and to reach a land where order pre- 
vails. And here we are at last. How beautiful the 
city ! Not like the cities of the East, only beautiful 
from the sea, but its elegant houses, broad, clean 
streets are refreshing. Marseilles, for elegance and 
beauty, is only second to Paris. But we tany not 
here. Paris is before us, and two days' travel Avill 
land us there, if we go straight through l)y rail. 
But we must halt a little on the way. "We must see 
the extensive and magniticent remains of l\oman 
works, especially the old Amphitheatre at Aries. 
It is next in size perhaps to the great Coliseum at 
Home. And it will not do to pass through the 
ancient and important city of Lyons without stop- 
ping. Perhaps we may see some of the descend- 
ants of the "Lady of Lyons" and "Melnottc." 
Who knows? But if we do not, a look into some 
of the great silk manufactories will pay us for 
stopping. There are more than seven thousand 
such establisliments in Lyons! These things, in 
connection with the beautiful city, so well situated 
at the junction of the Soane and Rhone rivers, 
make it well worth while to tarry a day. 

And Fontainbleau must be seen. We give a day 
to it, driving through its extensive forest and gar- 

II A L ' S T II A V E L S . 359 

den, and walking through the palace. One day is 
not satisfactory, but we are in haste. 

Paris at last ! and snugly housed in the Hotel de 
Luxembourg, with my old friend John G. to keep 
me company. How glad I am to find him once 
more ! — and now for a good long rest. 

Smith is here, Jones is here, and Miss Kissiah is 
here. Brown and the rest are dispersed — some in 
Italy, and some gone home. So onr party is now 
clean "busted up." "We shall remain here some 
time, for it will not do to leave Paris in May. 

When I feel sufficiently rested, I shall perambu- 
late Paris with my good and faithful friend Smith, 
after which I may write you again. 

Yours, etc., Hal. 

360 hal's travels. 



I HAD intended to -u-rite 3'ou a letter tins morn- 
ing, but upon reflection have concluded to write 
only an apology. In piping 'times like these, com- 
monplace letters from plodding correspondents are 
of no interest whatever to the reading public of our 
country, the taste of which has been wound up to a 
blood-and-thunder pitch by politicians, bully mem- 
bers of Congress, and "fancy" gentlemen of the 
" ring." It is, tlierefore, unnecessary for me to shed 
ink with the vain hope of interesting the worthy 
people who have so many public interests to look 
after, and who have so much to talk about. The 
world is in a ferment, and things are happening and 
are likc'ly to happen everywhere — cs[»ecially in our 
own countr3% where the tug of war is setting in on 
a larger scale and more fiercely than that of Gari- 
1)aldi with the Xeajjolitan Government. I am aw- 
fully' afraid that that horrid monster, so long looked 
for, and so often predicted, is about stalking in at 
last to frighten our people into spasms with his 
gaunt, spectral visage, and gory locks. I mean the 
(Thsis ! The signs of his coining are vivid, and if he 
come, woe be to the faint-hearted ! 

hal's travels. 361 

But, as I said above, I write this note merely as 
an apology, instead of a letter, and to reveal to you 
the important fact that I am on the point of leaving 
the capital of His Imperial Highness for that of Her 
Eoyal Majesty. In other words, I have accepted an 
invitation to eat roast-beef and drink 'alf-and-'alf 
with my English cousins, and herrings with my 
Scotch friends, not forgetting to call by and indulge 
in a mess of "praties" with the honest Hibernians. 
In short, I am going to " do" Great Britain. My 
friend John accompanies me. 

I have been trying to get my good friend Smith 
to go, but can't. He is willing enough to go him- 
self, and anxious, but the Madam says she is not 
through with Paris yet. Smith groans in spirit, and 
submits, but says he cannot hold out much longer. 
Mrs. S. goes shopping " at all hours of the day and 
in all kinds of weather," and has bought more goods 
than poor Flora McFlimsey ever dreamed of. Smith 
says the expenditures of his wife are intolerable. 
But still he submits. A day or two ago the Madam 
announced her readiness to leave, whereat the old 
gentleman was in ecstasies, and came and informed 
me of the decision with a beaming face. But an 
hour after, the decision was revoked. She has now 
determined to stay till after the funeral which she 
feels confident will come off in a few days. Prince 
Jerome is very ill, and is expected every day to die. 
She wants to witness the grand funeral pomp, which 
she thinks will be one of the most imposing cere- 
monies ever got up in Paris. She has a passion for 


grand spectacles. (My private 0[tinioii is that it is 
more of a passion for the company of Major Fitz- 
doodle than any thing else that keeps Mrs. S. in 
Paris ; but Smith must not know this.) 

I regret leaving my good and faithful old friend; 
and I verily believe he is sorry to part ■with me ; but 
the parting must come. "We have roamed the streets 
of Paris both by day and night for several weeks to- 
gether — in fact, we have been together daily for 
months past : what wonder, then, that we should part 
in sorrow ? 

Latterly the old gentleman goes to the circus al- 
most ever}- night, while the Madam goes to the 
opera with Major Fitzdoodle. She will not go to 
the circus because she considers it "low," but is 
willing, and even anxious, for her "kind and oblig- 
ing" husband to go there. Smith says he don't 
care a "cuss" for the circus, but he feels certain 
that the fellow wlio performs upon the slackropo 
will break his neck some night, and he is anxious 
"to be in at the death." 

Paris is very gay at this time, and is a hard place 
to leave. But this is "the season" in London also. 
AVe go by the Isle of "Wight, where Ilcr Majesty is 
sojourning at this time. 

The Emperor reviewed his troops in the Bois do 
Boulogne a few days ago, assisted in the arduous 
duty by the Empress and the little Prince. It was 
a brilliant spectacle. In returning from the review, 
!Mr. Smith and myself had the honor of riding near 
the Emperor for a mile or more, and, as we rode in 


a slow walk, had an excellent opportunity of enter- 
ing into a conversation with His Grace — but we 
did. n't. We took off our hats to him, and he took 
off his hat to us ; but, like a modest man that he is, 
he said nothing. 

But I must close and pack up my duds, for I leave 
for Havre, etc., at 12 o'clock. Good-bye. 


P. S. — My friend Smith has just been in to un- 
bosom himself to me. He informs me with a very 
long face that Mrs. Smith has gone and bought a 
monkey, and has dressed it up in a suit of clothes 
just like his. He is terribly distressed, and swears 
roundly that he will not stay in Paris three days 
longer. He was somewhat put out when his wife 
bought the poodle dog, but the monkey has almost 
filled the cup of his patience. H. 




I SENT you a brief apology from Paris last week 
instead of a letter. You may think you are goiiig 
to get off again as easily. But don't Hatter your- 
self. I feel rather desperate to-da}', and shall bore 
you just as long as I please. This is a real London 
day — dark, chilly, damp, and smoky — and as I can- 
not go out to see the sights of the great metropolis, 
I must let off steam by inflicting upon you a most 
burdensome document. 

On the same day I wrote you last, I bade fare- 
well to Paris and my friends there — especially the 
Smiths — and John and myself made tracks, on the 
rail, for Havre, tarrying long enougli by tlie way to 
take a bird's-eye view of the ancient and classic city 
of Kouen, where relics of ;inlii|nity meet the eye at 
every turn, and where stands a statue of Joan 
of Arc. Ai-riving at the great commercial city 
ct' Havre — '' the Liverpool of France" — we, for the 
last time, belbre embarking for a land of freedom, 
went tlirough the nonsensical ccivmony of having 
our passports overhauled and cisal. Then, after 


partaking of an enormous beefsteak, and a quantity 
of claret, we sallied out and took a look at the quaintly 
built and eminently French - looking city; after 
whicla we deposited ourselves at midnight on a 
couple of shelves (called berths by courtesy) on 
board the little wheezing steamer that plies between 
Havre and Southampton. These shelves are said 
to have been made to sleep on. That may be, but 
the individual must have a copper-lined stomach 
who can sleep on such a sea as we passed over that 
night. The little steamer heaved and set all night 
long — and the great load of passengers did likewise, 
until we arrived in the quiet waters of Southampton 
bay at nine o'clock the following morning. I never 
saw people " cast up accounts" (that's quoted from 
Smith) with more earnestness than did that squad 
of passengers. Tartar -emetic is a mere circum- 
stance to a troubled sea. So, landlubbers, take 

Having arrived at Southampton, we made all 
haste to get away from it, for it is not a place for 
one to hanker after, particularly in bad weather; 
besides, we were greeted on every hand with that 
vulgar vernacular, the English language. Every- 
body spoke English, and we found our French, 
which we had acquired with so much labor, utterly 
useless. It was downright shocking, and strange 
as it was shocking, to hear great round oaths rolled 
out in English, after having been deprived of such 
a luxury for nearly a year. You have little idea 
how strange it seems to hear everybody speak 

366 hal's travels. 

English, after the ear has been so long accustomed 
to dittereut sounds. 

Leaving Southampton, we whizzed through a 
portiou of, perhaps, the best-improved and best-cul- 
tivated countr}' on earth, and about two o'clock 
found ourselves enveloped in a dark mist, and 
almost suffocated with coal-smoke. And this, if 
nothing else, would have told us that wc were enter- 
ing Loudon. Its horrible smell, dark smoked 
houses, and croAvdcd streets, were the same that we 
liad left them months and months before. 

And so, here wo have been now for six days — and 
if I were to tell you that we had good weather for 
one-sixth of the time, you might well doubt the 
stor}'. It has rained twice since I commeuced this 
letter, (and I am not a slow writer,) and at the pre- 
sent moment it looks like we arc going to have a 
storm. It would be but little exaggeration to say 
that this is the character of the Avcather we have 
had all the time. If it be thus in June, what must 
it be in winter? 

Such being the character of the weather, I can't 
say that we have enjoyed London to an enormous 
extent, although we have been pretty constantly on 
the pad. Between showers we frequently employ 
tlic time in looking at London and its masses of 
humanity from the top of an omnibus. One day 
we found it dry enough to visit the Royal Zoologi- 
cal Gardens, which paid very well, for wo there saw 
animals, birds, roptilos, and fishes from all lands and 
all waters. Another day, when it was raining, wo 

hal's tkavels. 367 

had ourselves shown through the Bank of England, 
the greatest institution of the kind in the world. 
It covers four acres of ground, and employs a thou- 
sand clerks, etc. Between two and three million 
dollars in notes are cancelled there daily. "We w^ere 
politely shown through all the departments, and the 
stories told us about the amount of business trans- 
acted in each were so enormous that I have not 
been able to retain them in my head. I remember 
one thing, however: In the printing department 
we were told that six hundred reams of paper were 
used per month to print bank-notes upon ! In one 
room a gentleman placed in my hand a bundle of 
notes which he said contained two millions and a 
half. .The bundle was not large nor heavy, but the 
same amount in gold would have loaded several 
wagons. (The threatened storm is upon us !) 

Thursday morning last was dark and lowering as 
usual, but John and myself determined to get the 
soot and cobwebs from our throats and lungs by 
breathing a little pure air. The Ascot races were 
going on some twenty-five miles from the city, and 
Thursday being the big day, there we determined 
to go and witness the sports of an English turf. 
These races are patronized by the Queen, and 
Thursday is called the " Queen's Day." We went, 
(it is but little more than an hour's ride by railway,) 
and, although it w^as a showery day, everybody and 
all their families seemed to be present. Hundreds 
of temporary booths were reared on every hand for 
the sale of refreshments — principally beef, beer, and 

368 ual's travels. 

cakes — and Johu Bull did his whole duty in the 
way of eating and drinking. The racing was 
spirited, and so was the betting. The finest horses 
of the kingdom, and the nohle patrons of the turf, 
were all there. Upon the whole, it was a very gay 
scene. A little after twelve o'clock the Queen and 
all the royal family, accompanied by many noble 
foreigners, arrived on the ground, in a procession 
of fourteen fine carriages and a numerous host of 
outriders in the most brilliant uniform. Their 
Royal Highnesses were received with shouts of wel- 
come, loud and long — for these English people love 
their good little Queen very much. She acknow- 
ledged the welcome with graceful bows and Avaves 
of her hand, after which she took her place jn the 
royal stand, where we could all see and admire her 
as much as we pleased. She is a dumpy little body, 
but, according to my taste, has a remarkably sweet, 
pleasant face — more rounded and fleshy than I ex- 
pected to see — decidedly blooming and healthy — 
which is a great blessing to her people, for if she 
were a pale, delicate-looking woman, the English 
ladies would ruin their health trying to look like 
lier. She was dressed like any other lad}', in ]il:iin 
black, with a white bonnet, not gorgeously trimmed. 
]*rince Albert is a fine-looking man, but begins to 
show age a little. I thought the Prince of AVales 
looked rather verdant for a young man of liis 
advantages. Tlie little ones of the l\oyal Family 
all had clean faces, and looked as neat as if they 
had just popped out of the bandbox. 

hal's travels. 369 

Up to tile time of the Queen's arrival, the racing 
had been of minor importance ; hut then the cele- 
brated horses were brought out, and the great races 
of the day commenced. Five, seven, eight, nine, 
and, in one race, fourteen horses were started. 
The people became frantic, and for a time seemed 
unable to hold themselves upon the ground. Even 
royalty itself stood on tiptoe, until the result of the 
latter race was announced, and then the air was 
rent with yells that would have aroused the envy of 
any savage ; and if throats were not rent, it was not 
for want of an effort Don't understand me to say 
that everybody yelled. Far from it : some were 
sad enough ; for some were hundreds, and some 
thousands of pounds poorer than when they arrived 
on the race-course. 

The great r^ce being over, the royal family re- 
tired, and so did we, and reached London in time 
to take our six o'clock dinner of roast-beef and 

Horse-racing is a national institution in England. 
So is foot-racing, jumping, lifting, wrestling, etc. 
Consequently there are more fine horses, and more 
stout, healthy-looking men, than I have found in 
any other country, except it be some parts of Ger- 
m.any, where manly sports are a pastime. The 
French are not near so stout or fine-looking as the 
English, and the Italians are pigmies in comparison. 
The Arabs, with few exceptions, are contemptible 
specimens of humanity, and the Turks are little if 
any better. Americans, in appearance, occupy a 


medium place between the Eno-lish and French, ap- 
proaching perhaps nearer the latter than the former 
standard. Perhaps it may be, in part, owing to the 
immense amount of beer that is swilled by the Ger- 
mans and English, that gives them their superior 
portly appearance. 

Since the races, we have been circulating at ran- 
dom in the parks, on Regent street, Piccadilly, in 
the Strand, and steaming it uyt and down the 
Thames. Xights we spend variously : one night to 
the opera, another to the Ilaymarket Theatre, an- 
other to the Adelphi, to see the performance of a 
first-rate play, called, "Our Female American Cou- 
sin," which is done up to admiration by ^liss Daly; 
then we go to tlic Royal Prince's Theatre, to see 
Richelieu and Pauline, and again to see the Christy 
^linstrels, who are doing a smashing business in a 
very poor way. They sing the oldest songs, play 
the oldest tricks, and get off the most stale 
and contemptible jokes and conundrums that you 
can imagine. But the people laugh and apjilaud, 
and that is sufficient. A joke or conundrum that 
would bo hissed in Iluntsvillo, Avill " bring down 
the house" here. After seeing the Christy's once, I 
must say that negro-shows are degenerating. Their 
plantation melodies and dances, as sung and danced 
in Loudon, are about as true to nature as the Demo- 
cratic party is to its pledges. 

Yesterday (Sunday) wo went to Exeter ITall, to 
liear the big gnu, Si>urgeon ; but the big gun had 
"gone off," and we didn't hear him. We heard a 


good sermon, nevertheless. A Mr. Korthrup, 
from the United States, (I don't know what part,) 
did what he could towards filling the pulpit of the 
big gun. I expected a "flash," but was agreeably 
disappointed. He preached an excellent sermon ; 
one that, had it been from Spurgeon, would have 
been considered one of his best. But it was not 
Spurgeon, and therefore many excellent people were 
sadly disappointed. It was a good, old-fashioned, 
plain sermon ; and I liked it, because it reminded 
me of some that I had heard from board pulpits in 
the woods, long, long ago, when people used to 
come together and pitch their tents in the cool 
shady groves, and worship God beside some silent 
stream or bubbling fountain. Mr. Korthrup is a 
good preacher, be he whom or what he may, or 
where from. He is drawing great crowds here, and 
is, I doubt not, doing good. Success to him, and 
all who preach simple truth ! 

To-day we shall call upou our Minister, Mr. 
Dallas, to get tickets, and to-morrow shall visit the 
two Houses of Parliament. The day after, we go 
to Sydenham, to visit the Crystal Palace. Then we 
must go to Hampton Court, and many other places 
of interest in and about London. Then ho ! for 
other parts! Isle of Wight, Stratford -on -Avon, 
Kenilworth, etc., etc., etc., etc. And some time, 
when we get tired of seeing, we shall call and see 
you all — perhaps. 

I was thinking, a day or two ago, that I ought to 
have written you a letter or two from Paris, giving 

372 iial's travels. 

an account of wluit I saw and onjoycfl in that city. 
But tlion perhaps it was more merciful in me to 
spare you ; for I could have written you nothing 
but a batch of such stuff as this. I saw nothing 
particularly new. Spent my time in the most use- 
less way — dodging in here and out there, popping 
up here and down there ; bobbing around generally, 
as much pleased with cverj^ thing I saw as a child at 
a Punch and Judy show. Lounged in the Garden 
of the Tuileries, watching the gay and giddy 
throngs of men, women, and happy children ; 
strolled through the galleries, and admired the 
pictures of the old masters, as well as the sculpture. 
And then I walked the most gay and beautiful of 
all thoroughfiires — Champs Elysees, admiring the 
fine equipages, the beautiful women, and the fine 
store-goods they carried on their graceful persons ; 
also the Hue dc Eivoli, and the Boulevards ; staring 
in at the brilliant shop-windows, the like of which 
is to be seen nowhere but in Paris. Then, often 
the afternoon would find me in tlie Bois de Bou- 
logne, (the finest park I ever saw,) where everybody 
goes to enjoy themselves — to see each other — to 
show their fine horses, fine carriages, and fine 
clothes. There too the Emperor and Empress are 
to be seen almost every pleasant evening, his Impe- 
rial Highness often driving his own liorses — a span 
of splendid blacks — one gentleman sitting beside 
liim, and two on the back seat. He dresses as other 
gentlemen, and has no guard. The Empress seldom 
rides with the Emperor, but in her own carriage, 


with one or two ladies of the Court. She is always 
accompanied by a guard of honor. So is the little 
Prince Imperial, who also has his own carriage. I 
have seen the Emperor on horseback, and little 
Prince on a little white pony beside him. He is a 
remarkable little fellow, to be little over four years 
old. He rides his pony in a lope. 

When looking at JSTapoleon HI., like my sensible 
friend Smith, I thought it something even to see a 
man who is destined to fill as many pages of his- 
tory as any man who has preceded him — a man who 
is emphatically making history. I am persuaded that 
he is the greatest man living, if not the greatest man 
who ever lived. "When he speaks a word, it is re- 
peated oftener, goes farther, and more importance 
is attached to it than the word of any other man. 
And I doubt if the man ever lived whose word in- 
fluenced the world as does that of the Emperor of 
the French. He says little, but he does a great deal. 
Like a truly great man, he is even great in little 
things. While managing his own great empire, and 
at the same time looking over the affairs of the other 
nations of Europe, he neglects not the smaller mat- 
ters. He has works of public improvement going 
on in every part of France — canals, railroads, turn- 
pikes, and public buildings ; he encourages agricul- 
ture, horticulture, and mechanics ; has an eye to the 
public schools, and patronizes the fine arts, nor does 
he neglect science ; gets up fairs in every section 
of the country for the exhibition of every species 
of industry, and awards munificent prizes. He 

374 iial's travels. 

knows tlic liealthtul influence of public promenades, 
places of resort, fetes, and amusements for the peo- 
ple, and provides them. Under his guidance the 
police regulations approach very nearly perfection, 
and you will as vainly look for riot and disorder in 
a French city, as for sobriety and decency at a Kew 
York election. Order, cleanliness, and industry are 
visible everywhere in France. In short, Emperor 
i^Tapoleon seems to have an eye to and to promote 
every thing calculated to advance his people, be it 
small or great. His great mind seems to compre- 
hend all, for while he conducts minor matters, he 
commands his armies and his navy, and has but 
to shake his tinger to make proud nations tremble 
before him ! Who but Louis JSTapoleon could have 
taken the mass of vagabonds and fierce red republi- 
cans, such as the French people were a few yeara 
ago, and made such a people and such a govern- 
ment ! I doubt if the man lives who could have 
done so much. Happy indeed is it for the French 
people, and for the world, that a man with such a 
mind and such vast power is disposed to do right. 

But where am I running to ? I did not intend to 
say so much about the French Em[>cror, much as I 
admire him. Hope you w^ill excuse it. 

AVhcn I left Paris I expected (or at least hoped) to 
have been joined before this time l)y my friends Mr. 
and Mrs. Smith.' They have not come, nor do I now 
expect them to arrive during my stay in London. I 
have just received a letter from Mr. S. informing mo 
of their change of plan. It is in real business 

hal's travels. 375 

style — short, and to the point. It runs as fol- 
lows : 

Friend Hal : — You needn't expect me in London. 
Can't come. Sorry to disappoint you, but can't help 
it. Mrs. S. has changed her mind. Prince Jerome 
didn't die, as was expected, consequently my dear 
wife will not be gratified with the sight of a royal 
funeral-procession. She thinks it very provoking. 
She has now taken a notion to go down to Fontain- 
bleau instead of London. The Emperor and all his 
folks have moved down there. "We go to-morrow. 
Major Fitzdoodle goes with us. (And, privately, 
my friend, between you and me, I say cl — n Major 
Fitzdoodle.) He is an upstart. And yet I don't 
know how to get rid of him, unless I pull his nose. 
And that would not do, as it would wound the feel- 
ings of my dear wife, for she thinks the Major a 
verj^ nice man. And, true, he has been very kind 
to her. 

The Snob family leave to-day for London. You 
will no doubt see them, as they intend stopping at 
the same old place in Piccadilly. I did hope that 
that young flirt, Julia, would take the Major with 
her. But not so. 

I am glad to say that Mrs. S. is growing tired of 
her monkey. Think she will give it up soon. She 
has now bought a big green parrot, and a most in- 
fernal noisy thing it is. 

Hope you will have a good time with the British- 
ers. Sorry I cannot be with you. 

376 ual's travels. 

That cussed fool of a rope-jumper at the circus 
came very near breaking his neck last night. 

Respectfully yours, Smith. 

So, in all probability, I shall see my good friend 
no more. I shall therefore hurry through my tra- 
vels in the British Isles, and make a break for a 
country where I can get corn-bread. 

"Wish Smith a pleasant sojourn at Fontainbleau, 
and hope that something may turn up to give him a 
chance to pull Fitzdoodle's nose. 

The sun has now come out, and I will close and 
go out to eujo}' its pleasant smiles. 

Yours, etc., Hal. 

P. S. — The steamer "Great Eastern" will sail for 
!N^ew York next Saturday. I would take passage on 
her but for a few reasons. First, I have not seen 
enough of this country. Second, John is afraid to 
risk his life on the first voyage of the monster, and 
I can't leave him. Third, I understand the places 
arc all taken, and I could not get a berth even if I 
wanted it. Fourth, and lastly, the great ship will 
cause an immense sensation when she reaches Amer- 
ica, and my own arrival, I fear, wouhl be compar- 
atively unnoticed by the great public ; and that 
would be mortifying, you know. The New Yorkers, 
I guess, will find it difiicult to contain themselves 
when they see the Great Eastern in their waters. 
"Wonder if they have got their City Hall rebuilt, so 
they can get up another bonfire, as in the case of 
the telegraphic cable ? 

hal's travels. 3Y7 

I guess you read the papers, and know what Gari- 
baldi is doing ; that he has flogged the Royal Nea- 
politan troops, and captured Palermo, the capital of 
Sicily. He has sworn that the King of I^aples shall 
no longer rule the Sicilians, and has made a glorious 
beginning towards carrying out his oath. If he 
does not take the Bourbon yoke from the whole 
ISTeapolitan kingdom, I shall be mightily deceived. 
I once thought seriously of going to Sicily, but when 
I thought of the intensely hot climate, and the heat- 
ing nature of the work likely to be encountered, I 
thought it more prudent to keep at a distance. I 
might, if seriously and urgently requested to do so, 
consent to die for my own country. But then, to 
die for the priest-worshipping, macaroni-eating Ita- 
lians, is another thing altogether. 

But still, I swing my cap in the air, and cry, " Vive 
le General Garibaldi T' 

It is now preparing to rain again, and I am 
tempted to write several more pages, to kill time. 
But I '11 spare you. H. 

378 ual's travels. 



I AM on the wing now, and cannot take time to 
burden you with much of a letter. I must, how- 
ever, bring myself up "to the scratch" long enough 
to pen you a running account — very brief — of the 
incidents, adventures, and experiences, picked up 
along the way since my last letter. 

Before leaving London, John and myself spent 
one day in the Crystal Palace; but to undertake to 
give an account of so huge an establishment in one 
little letter, would be downright presumption, not 
to say foolishness. In fact, Avhat I saw there is so 
promiscuously jumbled and tangled in my mind, 
that I doubt if I could write intelligibly about it. I 
only have a confused idea of an immense building, 
stored with some of almost every thing under the 
sun. I have a dim remend)rance of a thousand little 
shops, and a thousand pretty girls behind a thousand 
little counters, selling thousands and thousands of 
little trinkets and gimcracks to the visitors; also 
have a faint impression that there was an immense 
amount of machinery, agricultural implements, stat- 
uary, paintings, gardens, fountains, beasts, birds. 

hal's travels. 379 

fislaes, and reptiles ; wax-works, and specimens of 
every style of architecture, ancient and modern ; 
restaurants, beer-saloons, and music in various parts 
of the establishment. Also have an idea that the 
building is made entirely of iron and glass, and 
think that something was said by somebody about 
its covering nineteen acres of ground — perhaps three 
stories high. I remember that I did a most excel- 
lent day's work in the way of walking through the 
different departments of the palace. Blistered feet 
impress this fact vividly. Was decidedly pleased 
with my visit, and am resolved to stay a week next 
time I go. 

Another day we spent at Windsor Castle — the 
grand and magnificent old pile — founded by William 
the Conqueror, and which has been the seat of royalty 
ever since his day. Palace very fine, but not so 
rich as some in France. Park very extensive, 
stocked with deer and buffalo, and in it an eques- 
trian statue of George III., in bronze — the largest I 
ever saw. Was shown "Heme's Oak," immortalized 
by Shakspeare. The stock of "Merry Wives" is 
not entirely extinct, judging by the ga}- and flaunt- 
ing dresses we saw flitting about the lawns of 
Windsor. The celebrated Eton College is at 

Went to Exeter Hall one night in London, to 
hear John B.' Gough deliver himself of one of his 
thrilling temperance lectures.. He spread himself 
for two hours, and poured out more eloquence than 
I ever heard before — presenting figures gaunt and 

380 hal's travels. 

gbastlj', such as made the hair stand on end, the 
blood run cold, and the very marrow chill in the 
bones. And all the while he spoke he paced his 
long stage from end to end like a chained bear, 
looking more like a maniac than a rational being. 
Should not be surprised it" the man does go totally 
deranged, for he really seems verging that way. 
Towards the conclusion of his lecture, when he 
seemed to have iinished the work of annihilating 
the monster intemperance, and just at the point 
where he ought to have stopped, he travelled con- 
siderably out of his way to lug in his abolitionism, 
and denounced slavery, (stealing the words of that 
Congress fellow,) as "the sum total of all villainy." 
And this of course "brought down the house," as 
might be expected of an English audience. He 
wound up by announcing his determination to go 
home and preach a crusade against slavery during 
the Presidential canvass. I predict that John B. 
Gough will be in the Lunatic Asylum before very 

Three or four days ago, having "done" London 
as well as circumstances permitted, we packed up 
our duds, and with perfectly dry eyes bade farewell 
to our sorrowing landlady. At London Bridge sta- 
tion we took the train, and a last look at the eter- 
nally-befogged and besmoked old city. Two hours 
express time, through a country of rare richness 
and beauty, brought us to Brighton, on the sea- 
coast — a city remarkable as a place of fashionable 
resort for London sca-bathcrs — and more remark- 

hal's travels. 381 

able as a resort for London Sabbath-breakers, as 
you may judge wlien I tell you that excursion trains 
run between London and Brighton every Sunday, 
carrying passengers at less than one-fourth the reg- 
ular fare. Consequently, many thousands who de- 
sire to get on a "bust," escape from the vigilance 
of the city police, and go to Brighton — provided 
they can raise two-and-a-sixpence to pay their fare. 
Without tarrying at Brighton, we hastened on to 
Portsmouth — two hours farther — where we desired 
very much to get a peep into the great Government 
Dock-yard, where war-ships, cannon, and all sorts 
of destructive materials are turned out. In this we 
failed, for none but Her Majesty's faithful subjects 
are permitted to see the savage preparations there 
going on. We tried very hard to look like regular 
beef-eating Britons, and in addressing the gate- 
keeper I even adopted the cockney lingo, telling 
the faithful guardian that we were "hanxious" to 
see the "hoperation" of making the"'orrid him- 
plements" of war. But the man at the gate, with a 
knowing look, gave us to understand that he was 
"up to snuftj" and that we could not come it over 
him with our "haitches." Intimated that he knew 
a Yankee as far as he could see him. So, not being 
able to see the Dock-yard, we had to content our- 
selves with the other lions of the town, the which 
we were kindly shown by Mr. B., a gentleman con- 
nected with the public works, and to whom I had a 
letter of introduction. "We saw the fine old man-of- 

382 hal's travels. 

war "Victory," the pame on wliich Lord kelson fell 
in an engagement with the French fleet. 

Late in the evening we quitted Portsmouth, and 
on a little cockle-shell of a steamer were brought 
safel}" to Cowes, and here we have been luxuriating 
ever since in the beauties of one of the most lovely 
isles of the ocean — the gem of all islands — the 
crowning jewel of Great Britain. The Garden of 
Eden could have been little fairer than the Isle of 

Yesterday we spent the entire day in riding about 
from place to place in a carriage, visiting Carisbrooke 
Castle, some old ivy-covered churches, and other in- 
teresting spots. To-day we have made almost the 
complete circuit of the island on the top of a stage- 

Yes, the stage-coach ! AVho does not love to 
travel by coach? Ay, but it is glorious! The 
four large prancing horses — the hugely proportioned 
coach — the short pursy driver in higli-topped boots, 
with fair round bell}', fiit red face, and two peering 
little eyes, twinkling on each side of a big purple 
nose, on which the delicate gin-blossoms are just 
beginning to bloom! And then the proud flourish 
and cracking of the long whiii — the "winding of the 
mellow horn" — the start, and brisk clatter through 
the village streets, to the mortal terror of old wo- 
men and little children, who scramble out of the 
way, and look enviously at us as we pass ! How 
like the olden time before the innovation of the 


railwaj^ ! It is a good thing to travel by stage-coach 
over these firm, smooth English roads ! I was hon- 
ored with a seat on the box by the side of our 
dumpy little driver, whom I soon found to be a very 
knowing man, and not at all disposed to hide his 
light under a bushel. He had imbibed a sufficient 
number of "horns" to make him "mellow," and was 
therefore in a capital humor for imparting just such 
information as I desired. He knew the island per- 
fectly, and could tell the history of every old church, 
castle, and ruin upon it. He told me he had been 
driving the coach here for just twenty-one years ; 
but to hear him talk, one might think he had been 
driving for centuries, and had known the island in- 
timately since the days of its l^orman conquerors. 
He knew the very spot on which the fugitive Charles 
I. landed, the room in which he was imprisoned in 
Carisbrooke Castle, and pointed out the very win- 
dow from which the unfortunate King made several 
unsuccessful attempts to escape. Knew Osburn 
House perfectly, and seemed intimately acquainted 
with the private chambers occupied by Her Majesty 
during her visits to the island. Had heard of Legh 
Richmond, and the Dair3^man's Daughter, and had 
even gathered flowers from little Jane's grave on 
one occasion for one of his lady passengers. His 
knowledge, however, was confined entirely to the 
island, as I discovered when I took out my pipe for 
a smoke. He asked me where I had got such a 
" 'orrid houtlandish pipe ?" Told him it was a pipe 
I had got an artist to carve for me in Jerusalem, 

384 hal's travels. 

from a knot of olive-wood. He repeated the word 
"Jerusalem" several times, and said Le thought he 
liad heard of the place before. Asked if it was iu 
the United States. 

You must know that the Isle of AVight seems 
almost like holy ground to me. Many years ago I 
read some little books which gave me a strong 
desire to see the island ; and now that I am upon 
it, it seems that I am treading upon sacred soil. 
The little books I allude to are those written by 
Rev. Legli Eichmond, the foremost and best of 
which is, I think, "The Dairyman's Daughter," a 
little book that no one can read attentively without 
profit; and I heartily recommend it to all my young 
friends — a}', and older ones too. Also, the " Young 
Cottager," and " Cottage Conversation." Also, 
some little books of perhaps no less value, by Rev. 
A\^. Adams: "The Shadow of the Cross," "The 
Distant Hills," "The Old Man's Home," and "The 
King's Messengers." The reading of these little 
simple stories gave a charm and a beaut}' to the 
whole island that I could not have otherwise seen. 
I trust they may all continue to be read as long as 
time lasts. A visit to some of the old churches and 
churchyards has been exceedingly interesting, and 
even edifying. Brading Church, where the good 
Richmond used to preach the pure and simple 
gosi)el truth, is a pleasant place to visit. And just 
beside the church is the grave of " Little Jane," the 
pure "Young Cottager," whose simple story has 
been so extensively and profitably read by multi- 

hal's travels. 385 

tudes of people, I have copied the lines inscribed 
on her tomb : 

"Ye who the power of God delight to trace, 
And mark with joy each monument of grace, 
Tread lightly o'er this grave, as ye explore 
The short and simple annals of the poor. 
A child reposes underneath this sod — 
A child to memory dear, and dear to God. 
Rejoice, yet shed the sympathizing tear, 
Jane, the 'Young Cottager,' lies buried here !" 

In Arreton churchyard is the grave of the good 
and lamented Mr. Adams. It is a simple, unpre- 
tending tomb, and above it is suspended a metal 
cross, so that whenever the sun shines, its shadow 
is cast upon the white marble slab which covers the 
tomb. This was done in honor of the little book he 
wrote, entitled, " The Shadow of the Cross." I 
thought the monument quite appropriate. 

In the same churchyard is the tomb of Elizabeth 
"Wallbridge, "The Dairyman's Daughter." There 
are three grassy hillocks side by side. One of these 
has a tombstone to the memory of Elizabeth ; an- 
other has a stone in memory of her sister; the 
other, which has no stone at all, is over the father 
and mother. I also copied the lines from this tomb, 
rather long, but at the risk of being tedious I shall 
insert them here, for I know they will be gladly 
read by all who have read the touching story of 
" The Dairyman's Daughter :" 

" stranger ! if e'er, by chance or feeling led. 
Upon this hallowed turf thy footsteps tread, 


Turn from the contemplation of the sod, 
And think on her wliose spirit rests with God. 
Lowly her lot on cartli ; but lie who bore 
Tidings of grace and blessings to the poor, 
Gave her, his truth and faithfulness to prove. 
The choicest treasures of his boundless love : 
Faith that dispelled affliction's darkest gloom ; 
Hope, that could cheer the passage to the tomb ; 
Peace, that not hell's dark legions could destroy ; 
And Love, that filled the soul with heavenly joy. 
Death of its sting disarmed, she knew no fear, 
But tasted heaven e'en while she lingered here. 
happy saint! may we, like thee, be blest — 
In life be faithful, and in death find rest !" 

"We also found it pleasant to visit the cottages 
once occupied by the "Dairyman's Daughter," and 
" Little Jane." A description of these cottages and 
churches, and the surrounding scenery, "will be 
found vividly and beautifully depicted in the little 
books I have mentioned. 

I have written more than I intended, but I hope 
you will read it with good nature. I shall close 
now, and take a little sleep. To-morrow we go 
north, to visit Oxford, Warwick, Stratfoni-ou-Avon, 
Kenilworth Castle, etc. Will finish this letter, and 
mail it, after I have seen those places. For the 
present, adieu. 

Stratford-on-avon, June 21, 18G0. 

The thoughts and emotions in my heart this 
morning are almost too big for utterance. To be 
silent would therefore be more scendy. I must tell 
you, however, that I am here — here in Stratford-on- 

hal's travels. 387 

Avon — the place where Shakspeare was born, and 
lived, and died — and where his bones are buried. I 
have seen the room in which he was born — where 
he was nursed, " mewling and puking in his nurse's 
arms" — the great broad fireplace by which he was 
tauffht his ABC, and where he was no doubt often 
spanked and sent to bed for his waywardness. I 
have sat in the chair in which he sat, and seen the 
table on Avhich he wrote. His tomb is in the great 
old church which stands on the margin of the sweet 
flowing Avon, and his family repose beside him. 

And besides the emotions caused by the know- 
ledge that I am where Shakspeare lived, and look 
upon scenes that he looked upon, I am even domi- 
ciled at the "Red Horse Tavern," in the same 
room, and writing upon the same table on which 
the immortal Geoffrey Crayon wrote his sketches. 
His picture hangs upon the wall, and the identical 
sceptre he held in his hand, when " monarch of all 
he surveyed," is reposing by the fireplace, in the 
shape of a huge iron poker. The words " Geoffrey 
Crayon's sceptre" are engraved upon it, and shown 
by mine host with much gusto. Washington Irving 
is almost as well known here as Shakspeare. 

I have just returned from a pleasant walk of a 
mile across the fields to the cottage of " Sweet 
Anne Hathaway." Travelled the same road, no 
doubt, that wild Will used to travel, when paying 
stolen visits to his Anne, when she was less repu- 
table, perhaps, than in later years. It is a neat 
thatch-roofed cottage, with a venerable look, and is 

888 II A L ' S TRAVELS. 

said to be still occupied by descendants of the Ilath- 
aways. They show some ancient furniture, said to 
have belonged to Anne. 

I have been to Warwick, visited "Warwick Castle 
and Guy's Clift', and seen many things there, old, 
quaint, and curious. Have also visited Ivenilwortli 
Castle, a venerable old ruin. Saw the tower in 
which the lovely but unfortunate Am}- Eobsart was 
conlined, and was shown the grotto in which she 
was discovered by Queen Elizabeth, on her visit to 
Kenilworth. But all these things are too much to 
put in this letter. 

We now leave for the ancient city of Chester, 
and from there we go to Bangor, in Wales, to see 
the great tubular and suspension bridges across the 
Menai Straits, and the immense slate quarry near 
that town, where four thousand eight hundred men 
are engaged in quarrying slate. Then, ho ! for a 
visit to the "cannie Scots" and the "wild Irish- 
men." So, till you hear from me again, good-bye. 


P. S. — I will not bore you with the political news 
from this side the water; but really the Eastern 
world seems to be in a ferment. Sicily, under the 
influence of Garibaldi, is boiling like a pot — Xaples 
seems on the eve of being wiped out — the Vatican is 
thundering ominouslj-, and Ireland is in a stew, 
sending off recruits for the army of his Holiness — 
Sardinia is trembling between the menaces of Rome 
and Austria — Turkey is cowering beneath the out- 

hal's travels. 389 

stretched claw of Russia ; and even John Bull is 
turning pale before the fancied hostile intentions 
of the French Emperor. So you see Europe is in a 
perfect'hubbub. And even in Asia Minor the work 
of blood is going on. I have just received a letter 
from the American Consul in Beyrout, which closes 
as follows :* 

" Syria is now in a blaze of civil war. More than 
sixty villages have been burned. Hundreds of 
Christians have been killed, and the work of blood 
is still progressing. The Druses, aided by the 
Turks, obtain the victory everywhere. We are 
only saved from a Moslem insurrection in Beyrout 
by the presence of a Russian frigate." 

This war was brewing when I was in Beyrout. 


390 hal's travels. 


Now, good friends, we will cease oiir wanderings. 
"We have had a long tour, which I trust you have 
found pleasant, and not altogether unprofitable. 
"We have seen much to condemn, and much to 
approve ; much to laugh at, and much to sorrow 
over. "We have pressed through swarms of gaunt 
beggars, and jostled against gilded nobility — the 
oppressed and oppressors crowding along the same 
streets. The latter we looked upon with indigna- 
tion, while we enjoy the consoling thought that our 
coppers have often appeased the gnawing hunger of 
the former. We have been often vexed by police 
and custom-house officers, and cheated times almost 
without number. But these are petty annoyances 
that all must submit to who go out to see the world 
as it is, and they should be borne with patience. 

At some future time I may ask you to accom- 
pany me fartlier through the kingdom of Great 
Britain, when wc will visit the manufacturing cities 
and rural districts of England, the mountainous 
regions of Wales, the cities and highlands of Scot- 
land, when we will climb the Bens and sail upon 

hal's travels. 391 

the Lochs of that classic couutiy ; and then through 
Ireland, where "praties" abound, and many queer 
things are to be seen. 

For the present, farewell ; and may the remainder 
of your journey through life be as pleasant as our 
late travels have been to me ! So mote it be.