2.

TWO YEARS AND A HALF

THll XAYX-.

JOURNAIi OF A CRUISE
THE MEDITERRAf

BOARD OF THE U. S. FRIGATE CONSTELLATION, IN
THE YEARS 1829, 1830, AND 1831.

BY E. C. WINES.
m TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

PHILABELPHU:
CAREY & LEA, CHESTNUT STREET.
1832.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Loss of our Anchor in the Harbour of Genoa — Anxiety to find it
— Approach to Genoa — Appearance of the surrounding Coun
try—Harbour — View of the City from our Aiichorage— Music
along-side the Morning after our Arrival — The Musicians — Spe
cimen of Italian Character on going ashore — .Italian Ciceroni —
Trattorie — General Description of Genoa — Italian Churches —
Difference between them and the Ancient Greek Temples —
Church of Carignano — Bridge of Carignano — Cathedral — Chapel
of St. John the Baptist — Custom of excluding Women from it — .
Ashes of that Saint — The Catino — Church of St. Cyrus — Church
ofthe Annunciation — Painting of the Stoning of St. Stephen in
the Church dedicated to that Saint — Impossibility of embodying
the Attributes of Deity in a Picture or Statue — Palaces — GaUery
of Paintings in the Brignole Palace — Gilded Saloon in the Pa
lace of the Marquis of Serra — Ancient Palace of tlie Doges —
Marble Bust of Columbus — Two original Letters — His Signa
ture — Tribute to the Memoi-y of Columbus — Chai-itable Institu
tions of Genoa — Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb — Dialogue in
writing with one of the Scholars — Albergo dei Poveri — Alto-
Rehevo by Michael Angelo, representing Mary contemplating
her Dead Son — Occupations of the Poor in the Albergo — Hos
pital of Pammatone — Insane Hospital — Asylum for Orphan Girls
— University — ^New Theatre — Garden of Pallavicini — ViUa of
the Marquis di Negro— Visits on Board while the Ship remained
at Genoa — Florentine Family — History of Genoa, 1 — 24
CHAPTER n. *
Departure fcom Genoa and Arrival at Leghorn — Visit to Pisa and
Florence — Dilatoriness of the Vetturino — Country between Leg
horn and Pisa,._Principal Piazza in the latter City — Cathedral —
Bronze Doors — Baptistry — Campo Santo — Leaning Tower —
Present Appearance of Pisa— Lung* Arno — Historical Recollec-

1-7 CONTENTS.
t^ons — Arrival of the Vettura in which the Author had engaged
a Seat to Florence — Mode of Travelling in Italy ia the Summer
— ^Vale of the Arno — Arrival at Florence — Description of that
City — Cascine — ^Walk along the Bank ofthe Arno — Gli Ufizii—
jloyal and Imperial GaUery ^Corridor — ^Venus de Medicis — iTri-
bune — Group of the Niobe — Arrangement of the Paintings —
Collection of Gems and precious Stones— Different Classes of
Work^ in the Corridor— Busts ofthe Roman Emperors — ;CoIleij
tions of ancient and modern Stataes — Collection of Paintings ai-^
ranged chrpnologicaUy— tilJerality of the Tuscan Govemihent
in the Management of &is Establishment — ^Pitti Palace — Arcjii-
tecture pjf the Court — ^Pairitingfs — Ornaments ofthe Plafmds^-
OngirfandHistory of the Pitti Palate — Gardens of Boboli-=-Mas-
siveand prisonlike Appearance of many of the Buildipgs in
Florence-^Piazza del Gran Duca — Academy of Fine Arts — Mu
seum j)f Natural History — Anatomical Wax Figures — ^Duomo —
View from its Dome^Campanile — BaptistSy — Bronze TOoors —
Church of St. Lor,enzo — CapelladeiDepoSiti — .Statue of Lorenzo
de Medicis— M.idonna with the Bambino — Santa Croce — Brilliant
Assemblage of'Dead — Effect ofthe Tomb of Michael Angelo on
Alfieri — Galileo — Boccacio — Public Libraries — ^Maglibechian —
Ricardian — Laurentian,— Library of the Grand Duke^House of
Michael Angelo — ^Return to .Leghorn, - 25^51
CHAPTER ra.
Disappointment in not visiting Rome — Passage from Leghorn to
Naplss— ^Islands of Corsica and Elba — Scenery of the Bay of
Naples at Night — Pecuhar claims of Naples to the Attention of
Travellers — General Description of the City — Strada Toledo —
Loudness with which the Neapolitans talk— Gesticulation —
Character of Neapolitan Coachmen and Shopkeepers — V^
Reale — Grotto of Pausilipo-r-Tomb of Virgil — Churches -i^ Na
ples— Sculpture in the Chapel of S. Severo—Vice Un^ceived
— Modesty — Dead Christ — Offer of Canova — Dine at^i Convent
of Capuchins — Visit from the Monks on Board — R;;f al Palace —
Collection of Paintings — Death of Csesar and of Virginia by Ca-
muciui— Royal Stables — Theatre of S. CarlJ— IHuminatioji in
Honour of the King's Bii-th-Day- Theatr^^of S. Carlino— Aca-
demia degh Studii — Rich Collection ofKSculpture— Farnesian
Hercules— Farnesian Bull— The PIom— Callipigian Venus— Im-

CONTENTS. V
possibility, of {jreserving the Expression of Originals in'Casts —
Venus Genitrix — Equestrian Statues ofthe Balbi Bamily-s-Aris-
tides-;-Cabjnet of Egyptian Antiquities — Collection pf Antique
Bronzes — Paintings— Library — Antiquities from Herculaneum,
Pompeii and Nola — Female Ornaments-^-Beautiful Cameo —
Models ofthe emblematic Stitues, War and Peace,, designed for
tjie Capitol at Washington— Fi^e Arts in the United States-
Extent to which a Taste for tiiem prevs^ls in Italy-*.Neapontan
Society— Great Injustice dbne to the NeapoHtans — Nobility —
Fonclness for Finery — Lazzaroni- Punch and Judy — Street Ora
tors — Dinner Party at the Chevalier Guardati's — Amusements —
Annual Exliibition of the Fine Arts at the Studii,. 52  73
CHAPTER IV.
Environs of Naples^Excursioo to Vesu-vius, Pompeii and Hercu
laneum — Set off at Midnight — Naples at that Hour — Ride from
Naples to Resina — Procuring of Jackasses — Characteristic Scenes
^-Vineyards yielding the Wine called Lachrymae Christir—
Scenery along the Sides of Vesuvius — Ascent ofthe Cone — View
of the Crater — Descent into it — Inner Mound — Mouth of the
Volcano — View from the Ridge of ,the Crater — Descent — Her
mitage — Entertainment — Arrival at the Fontana de Resina — Ride
to Pompeii — Value of the Remains there in illustrating Ancient
History — Excellent Preservation of the Remains — The Appian
Way — Other Streets — General-'Style of Architecture — Meanness
of the common Houses — Magnificence.of the Public Edifices —
Amphitheatre — Secret Shrine in the Temple of Isis — Walls of
the City — Difficulty of ascertainining the Manner in which the
City was destroyed — Mode of excavating at Herculaneum— Re
mains of the Theatre there — Excursion through the Phlegrsean
Fields — Romantic Scenery along the Bank ofthe Sea — Island of
Nisida — ^Pozzuoli — Beggars — Temple of Jupiter Serapis — Collis-
seum — Ride to Cumse — Interesting Recollections connected with
the Scenery — L'Arco Felice — View ofthe Plain on which Cumse
stood— Cave of the Cumsean Sibyl — Remains of the Temple of
Apollo Sanitorius — Baisc — Remains of Temples and Villas — Baths
of^Nero — Cave on the Margin of Avernus — Bauh — Cento Ca-
marelle — Piscina Mirabile — Sepolchro d' Agrippina — Elysium —
Return to Naples-^Excursion to Oaserta and Capua — Scenery
of the Campania Felix — .Royal Palace at Caserta — Pleasure
Grouhds — Artificial Cascade — Amphitheatre at Capau, 74 — 92
A*

VI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V. * ¦
Second Visit to Naples — Varioloid on board — ^Influenza — Heavy
Dews — ^Visit to Tunis and Return to Mahon — The Navy — Clean
liness and Order prevalent on board of our Ships — .Training of
fhe Crews to a Knowledge of their Duty — Disciphne — Points m
wliich, the Service is susceptible of Improvelnent— yEstablish-
ment of an/ Admiralty — Establishment of a Military Academy —
Difficulty of training the Mind in actual Service — Some Account
ofthe School on board the Constellation — Importance of form
ing the moral Character of our Naval Officers before they enter
actively upon their Profession — Importance of having the Navy
officered by thoroughly educated Gentlemen — Alterations advi
sable in the Pay and Rank of some ofthe Officers — Pay of
Midshipmen — Chaplains — Schoolmasters — Modes of Discipline
— Flogging — Domestic Economy on board of our Ships — Ne
cessity of Regularity in the System of Discipline — Libraries —
Running in Debt — Gaming — Character of Sailors — Means of im
proving it — Disuse of Ardent Spirits — Libraries for Sailors-
Labours of Chaplains — Suggestions in Regard to the most ap
propriate Conduct to be pursued by Chaplains in their Inter
course with Seamen, - 93—115
(5HAPTER VI.
Anxiety to get to*-Sea in the Spring — Sail in Company with the
Boston for Tripoli — Passage to that City and to Malta — Music on
board — Quarantine at Malta — Hai-bour — Military Works — ^De
scription of Malta — Church of St. John — ^Its Riches — Head of
Emmanuel Pinto in Mosaic — Governor's Palace — Armoury —
Prodigious Weight of 'Some of tiie Armours — Missionaries-r-
Visit to St. Paul's Bay— Native Soil ofthe Island of Malta— Arti
ficial Soil — Identity of the Bay witli the Scene of Shipwreck
described in tiie Acts — Church dedicated to St. Paul on the
Water's Edge^St. Paul's Cave — Poetical and Historical Recol
lections connected with the Island of Malta — -JJeparture from
Malta — First View ofthe Coast of Greece — Characteristics of tiie
Scenery — Approach of Evening — Cerigo, the ancient Cythera —
Promontory of Tenarmn — Enter the Archipelago in a Gale of^
Wind — Arrival off Milo — Pilots — Sailing among the Cyclades —
Naxos and Delos — Coast of Aaia Muior-^Sailing in the Gulf of
•Smyrna— ALwival at that City, - - - 116 — 130

CONTENTS. VU
CHAPTER VII.
Associations of place on approaching Asia Minor — Scene on Land
ing — ^Pertinacity of a Jew — Mr. Brewer and his Family — Greek
Gu'ls — Frank School — Armenian by the name of Tackvor —
Greek Female Schools under Mr. Brewer's Charge — Remarkable
Progress ofthe Girls — Novelty of a Female School in Smyrna —
Schools for Boys — Abraham's College — Character of Abraham ~
— Armenian and Turkish Schools— American Society at Smyrna
— Frank Society generally — Appearance of Smyrna ata Distance
— Expectations raised by it — Disappointment on Landing —
Architecture of Smyrna — Different Quai-ters of the Town —
Marina — Frank Street — Bazars — Diversity of Inhabitants at Smyr
na — Distinctness of N.-itional Character — Scenes in the Bazars —
Honestj- of the Turks — Sharjung Disposition of the Jews ancl
Greeks — Jlode of treating Visitors in Greek and Armenian Fa
milies — Lemonade — Sherbet — Gratitude of the Greeks for as
sistance during the Revolution — Oppression of the Greeks by the
Turks — ^Visit to the Pacha's eldest Son — Palace — Reception —
Mode of transacting Business — Barracks;; — Visit to a young Turk
ish Officer — His AVardrobe — Moslem Ablutions — Mosque of His-
shagiamisi — Forms of Moslem Worship — Greek Churches and
Worship — Armenian Worship — Paintings in the Court of the
Armenian Church — Armenian Burying-Ground^Cypress Groves
— Moslem Burial Places — Antiquities of Smyrna — Meles — Cave
of Homer — Theatre — Acropohs — View from its Heights — Grave
of a Mahomedan Saint, - - - 131 — 148
CHAPTER Vm.
Excursion to Sardis — Preparations — TurkishPunctuality — Appear
ance of our Party — Turkish Saddles — Antonio — Memet — Mode
of reckoning Distances in the^ East — Ride through the Vale of
Smyrna — Caravans of Camels — Turkish Cafenets — Scenes which
they exhibit — Character ofthe Turks — Method of making Coffee
in Turkey — Ascent up Mount Sipylus — Party of Geek Mer
chants — Scenery along the Road — Arrival at Magnesia — Turkbh
Khan — Accomodations — Original Character ofthe Caravan-Serai
— Ascent up the HiU of the Acropolis — ^Prospect from it — His
torical Recollections — ^Description of Magnesia — The Niobe on
the side of Mount Sipylus — Repose beneath a Plane Tree —
Tutkish Fountains — Turkomans — Cassaba^ — Accommodations at
the Khan — Wine — Melon kept over Winter— Cafenet of Achmet

via CONTENTS.
Leigh — Turkish Guitar — Arrival at Sardis — Recollections — As
cent up the Acropolis — WaUs of the Acropolis — ^View from its
Summit — Tomb of Halyattes — Temple of Cybele — Ruins of the
Church of Sardis — Palace of Croesus — Return to Smyrnar— Cla-
zomene, - - - - 149 — 161
CHAPTER IX.
Island of Ipsara^-Doria Passage — Sunium — Hydra — Spezzia —
Land and Sea Breezes — Regularity with which they blow — Ar-
golic Gulf — Scenery and RecoUections — Albanian Costume—"
Grecian Ladies — Beauty of the Men — Sabbath in Napoli — Ge
neral Description of the Town — Coffee Houses — ^Amusuments —
Greek Churches — ^Public Houses — MiUtary Aspect of Napoli —
¦ La Batterie des Cinques Peres— De la Mer — De la Terre — ^Ihk-
hali — Palamedi — Garrison — Penitentiary — Cyclopean Remains
— Fountain of Kanathos — VUlage of Area — Threshing — ^Bread
in Greece — Aversion of Greek Countrymen to having Strangers
enter their Dwellings — Militai-y Academy at Napoli — ^Lancaste-
rian School— Rapid Progress of the Boys — Deficiency of Books
—Classical School — 3'hirst of the Greeks after Knowledge —
Political State of Greece at the Time of our Visit — Political Par
ties — Capodisti'ias— Governor of Napoli — ffis Lady — Excursion
to Tiryns — Diligence in Greece — Cheating Disposition of the
Greeks — Beggars — Antiquity of Tyrns — Its WaUs referred to by
Homer — Destruction of Tyrns by the Argives — Walls of the
Acropohs — Immense size of the Stones — Two vaulted Galleries
— Their probable Use — Cyclopean Masonry — Odd Trait in the
Character of the ancient Tirynthians — Agricultural School at
Tiryns, ... . 162—181
CHAPTER X.
The DUigence — Exultation with which it was regarded by the
Greeks — Harvesting — Companions in the DUigence — The Ina-
chus — Arrival at Argos— Coffee House of Agamemnon — Hospi
tality of an EngUsh Lawyer — Greek Wines — General Church —
Foundation of Argos— Alitiquities in the time of Pausanias —
Character of the Argives— Present Remains — Theatre — Palaio »
Tekkee — Oracular Shrine— Limiarti — Remains of a AVall round
the Acropohs- Church ofthe Panagia — Other Churches — Wells
of Argos— Ascent up the HiU of the Acropohs— Greek Monas
tery—Remains of the Acropohs— View from the Summit— Mo
dern Argos— Kephalari— Lake of Lerna — Excursion to MycenK

CONTENTS. IX
— Approach to that City fi-om Argos — Heroum of Perseus — Lion
Gate — Alto-relievo — Ancient Cisterns — WaUs ofthe Acropohs —
Party formed for a Visit to Corinth — Ancient Remains on the
Road between NapoU and Mycense — Site of the Temple of Juno
— Breakfast — Pass of Dervenaki — Haunts of the Nemean Lion — •
Traces of ancient Carriage Wheels — Dinner — Kourtese — Valley
of Cleonse — Fu-st View ofthe plain of Corinth — Accpmodations
at the Locanda — Ascent up tiie Acro-Corinthus — WaUs — Soldiers
asleep — Reception by the Commanding Colonel — Garrison —
Military Works — Fountain of Pirene — Prospect — Associations —
Doric Temple — Modern Town — Visit to Sicyon— Theatre —
Other Remains there — Greek Hut — Pastoral Life in Greece —
Accommodations for the Night at Kourtese — Return to Napoli,
' 182—201
CHAPTER XL
Accident to one of the Boston's Cutters — Departare from NapoU
— Sailing up the Saronic Gulf— Gulf of Salamis^Grecian Skies
and Scenery — Sunset — Excursion to 4-tli^"^ — The Piraeus —
Scene on Landing — Ride from Piraeus to the City — Remains of
the long Walls — Feehng on approaching Athens — Temple of
Theseus — Mars' HUI — Cave of Apollo and Pan — The Parthenon
— Sculpture on the Frieze of the Pronaos — View from the Sum
mit — ^ectheum — Pandrosfeum — Propylxa — Temple of Victory
— Statue of Erecthonius — Operation of grinding Wheat — Num
ber of Antiqmties in Athens — Pnyx — The Bema — Temple of
Jupiter Olympias— Fountain of CaUiroe— Excursion up Mount
Hymettus — Sacred Spring— Mojiern Athens, 202 — 219
CHAPTER XH;
Departure from Salamis and arrival at Egina — Harbour — Quay built
by Dr. Howe — Town — Orphan Asylum — Libi-ary — Sepulchral
Antiquities — Collection of Marbles — Lancasterian School — Cata
combs — Ancient Mosaic Pavement — Temple of JEacus — Ex
cursion into the Interior ofthe Island — Obstinacy of our Mules
— Scenery — Kastro — Temple of Jupiter Panhellenius — ^Locan
da — Commerce — Epidaurus — Visit to the Sacred Enclosure —
* Theatre — Other Antiquities — Temple of Minerva Sunias — Lesbos
— Coast of Asia Minor — Anchor in the Straits of Tenedos — In
teUigence ofthe Plague — Consuls in the Levant — Present state
of the Troad — Antiquities — Alexandria Troas — ^Palace of Priam

: CONTENTS.
— Theatre — Site of Homer's Troy — Attempt to beat up to die
Dardanelles — Plague at Smyrna — Earthquakes — Scio — Present
Appearance ofthe Town and surroimding Country — GoUege of
Scio — Sciot Women — Island of Samos — Beauty of its Scenery
— Nicaria — Sunset — Mycone — Tenos — Delos — Rhenea — Syra —
Serfo — Sefanto — Arrival at MUo — Harbour— Candiot ViUage —
Kastro^Ancient Catacombs — Theatre — Remains of the Walls —
Natural Phenomena — Island of Milo — Argentiera — Grotto of An-
tiparos — Paricchia — Ancient Quarries of Paros — Return to Ma
hon — Conclusion. 220—244

ERRATA.

Page 25, line 4, from top, between of and dtks, omit tht.

45, 52,
57,63,
77, 84,
97,
121,
127,153, 157,160.

14, from bottom, for is read art.
4, from top, for views read mew.
7, from top, for antiquarians read antiquaries.
4, from bottom, for Academa read Academia.
12, from bottom, for descend teoA. ascend.
last, for crates read craters.
6, from top, for continues read continue.
18 from top, forpfaces vesA place,
12, from top, between o/and memory, insert iAe.
19, from top, for lamger read large,
last, for somew^rread soroe fewe.
5, from bottom, for welcome read welcomed.

TWO YEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVY.

CHAPTER I.

At one o'clock, P. M. on the ninth of July, 1830,
we were riding at anchor in the harbour of Genoa. In
coming-to, the ship had so much head way, when the
oi-der was given to let go the starboard anchor, that she
snapped the chain cable in two as if it had been no more
than a tow string; but the hemp cable soon brought her
to her senses. Our people were several days fishing for
the aachor before they found it. We all felt a deep
anxiety for their success, for if they failed, the forfeiture
was to be an abandonment of our summer cruise, and an
immediate return to Mahon. The discovery of the lost
treasure was therefore hailed with a sentiment of uni
versal joy.
The approach to Genoa by sea is very fine. We could
not, however, enjoy all its, beauty on account of a thick
mist, which' filled the atmUgphere and obstructed the
view. This fog, cold and damp as it was, operated as
a check on my*enthusiasm ; and was rather in oppositioa
to those images of cloudless skies aud balmy airs, with
which the name of Italy had always been associated in
my mind. Howbeit, in reading the accounts of travel
lers and tho deseriptions of poets, we must always make
some allowance for a wish to pledse by exciting the
wonder of their readers. . The skies of Italy are doubt
less very beautiful, and its climate deliciQus ; but Italy
is nevertheless a part of this terrene ball, and as such is
not exempt from the laws to which other parts of it are
subject. But to return : I said the approach to Genoa
VOL. ir. 1

2 two tears -and A HALF
was fine ; and so it is. In nearing the land, we could
not at first determine precisely where the city stood, so
much did the whole surroundin'g country appear like one
continuous city. The coast was hilly, and crowned as it
is witli villages and country seats, embosomed in delight
ful groves, it presented a most animated, picturesque and
flourishing appearance.
The harbour of Genoa is capacious, and sweeps round
in the exact form of a semi-circle. The entrance is made
narrow by a mole, built but from either extremity of the
semi-circular arch. From its' edge rises a noble amphi
theatre of hills, ascending in regular slopes to the height
of eight hundred or a thousand feet above the level, of
the sea. On their summits are planted at different dis
tances from each other, several strong fortifications. The
view of the city from our ancl\orage was superb. It
is built upon the declivity of the hills which surround
the harbour. The principal part of it stands upon com
paratively low and level ground, on your right as you
pnter the port; the remainder exhibits the appearance of
a country of incomparable beauty, thicMy sprinkled with
villas. The scenery on the bay of Naplesjs more grand
and diversified ; — more exquisitely beautiful it could not
be. Were I called upon to select, from all the cities I
have ever seen, the one that, in my opinion, enjoys the
finest situation, I should not hesitate to pronounce the
nanle of that of whiclu Buonaparte, on first ' Walking
through its streets of marble palaces, is said to have ex-;
claimed in raptures, " Such a city is worth the risks of

Early on the morning of the tenth, I was waked by the
sounds of a violin accompanied by a female voice, along
side of the ship. This was Italy in good earnest. I
sprang from' my hammock, dressed myself and hurried
up on deck. A blind' old man and his daughter, a little
girl about twelve years old, had come off to ask alms..
The old man was miserably clad, and the girl was
not in much better plight. Her features were harsh,

IN THE NAVT. 3
and her voice not the most dulcet I have hegird ; but she
had a bright eye and a lively expression of countenance.
A wreath of natural flowers adorned her hair, which hung
in beautiful jet black ringlets down her neck and shoul
ders. She was singing a song in praise of America, and
the old man was accompanying it on an instrument, that
looked as if it might have been in Noah's ark. Music
and romance and beggary ! Surely, I exclaimed mentally,
there can be no doubt that I am really in Italy ; for in
no other country on the globe should I behold such a
sight as that upo'n which I am now gazing. The worthy
musicians received a very liberal gratuity, which,'! am
sorry to say, was more than many better performers got
after such things became more common.

I was impatient to get ashore. As all the ship's cutters
were emjJoyed in fishing for the anchor, immediately
after breakfast Dr.  and myself hired a shore boat
and put ofi' for the town. The wind was high, and we
did not reach the landing without shipping now and then
a pretty heavy sea ; but we were in fine glee, and, though
it wet our clothes, it did not damp our spirits. On land
ing we had a specimen of genuine Italian character. We
had engaged our boatman for a certain sum, and no
sooner had he set us on shore, than he demanded, or
rather begged an additional compensation, alleging that
the wind was higher than he thought it was, and artfully
appealing to our generosity to secure the success of his
plea. I, however, from the very outset, had determined
to set my face as a flint against imposition, and resolutely
refused to add a solitary sous to the original bargain. As
soon as he had satisfied himself that I was immovable, he
changed the previously sour expression of his counte
nance into a smile of the most gracious benignity, assur
ing us that, if we ever should have further ' occasion for
his services, he was ready to serve us not less from friend
ship than for money, and that he would do it cheaper
than any body else.
Our first object on landing was to procure one of those

4 TWO TEARS AND A HALF ^
persons, known in Italy by the name of ciceroni, whose
profession is to show strangers the various objects of in
terest and curiosity in the cities where they reside. This
class of persons abounds to overflowing in all the princi
pal towns of Italy, and we of course had no difficulty in
procuring the services of one of them. Their compen
sation varies in different cities. In Genoa it is four
francs, or somewhat less than eighty cents. In Florence
they receive about ninety cents per day; in Naples ten
carlini, or ten twelfths of a dollar ; and in Rome just a
dollar. The ciceroni of Rome are generally better qua
lified' for their profession than those of any other part of
Italy. Many of them are profoundly versed in the his
tory, literature and_ antiquities qf the ancient capital of
the Caesars. But there is one qualification which all,
in every part of Italy, possess in perfection, and that is
glibness of tongue. They are the most flippant, if not
the most learned and judicious, commentators in the
world. They will not only point out and magnify, with "
an eloquence, rapid as the flow of a torrent, the merits
of every statue, painting, church and palace you may
visit, -but will often give you the history of the artist, and
relate a thousand other circumstances, connected with
the work you may happen to be contemplating.
We went to a public house, and sent out for one of
these Mentors. On entering the apartment 'where we
were, he saluted us with a very obsequious bcAv, and ad
dressed us nearly in these terms : " Signori, casa vor-
rebbero le vostre signorie vedere prima ? — le chiese, i
palazzii giardini? Ce nee assai di tuiti."* We decided
upon the churches, and immediately set off on a cruise.
Our Mentor was a gentleman of about thirty-five
years of age, of the ordinary stature, genteelly dressed,
with black eyes, curly hair, and ah intelligent expression
of countenance. Besides the Italian, he spoke French
* " Gentlemen, what would your worships desire to see first ? —
the churches, palaces, or gardens ? There are a great many of all
of them."

IN THE NAVT. 5
and German fluently, but not a syllable of English. He
was perfectly familiar with the ground over which he
had to go. Never in a single instance did we find him
at a loss to answer any question that was put to him.
He was intelligent, active and polite; and on the whole
the best cicerone I met with in Italy.
When the dinner hour had arrived, he took us to,
the principal trattoria in the city. It is an immense
building situated near the centre of the town. All
the large cities in France and Italy are filled with es
tablishments of this kind, where you may dine by a
bill of fare for a franc or a guinea,, graduating your ex
penses according to the state of your appetite or your
purse. For two francs, or less than forty cents, you
may dine in any part of Italy as well as any man need
wish to perform that operation. For this sum you
will get a full bottle of wine, a bowl of soup or a dish
of maccaroni, two or three courses of meats, and a
desseirt, consisting of several kinds of fruit, or pastry
if you prefer it. In Rome you may dine for the same
money and have just double the number of dishes, as
they there serve half portions of wine, soup, &c. It was
frequently practised by us in other parts of Italy, when
two dined together, to call for single portions only, thus
increasing the variety of our fare, without any corres
ponding diminution of the contents of our purses.
It is not customary, for travellers or other gentlemen,
residing for a few weeks or even months in an Italian
city, to board. They usually take lodgings merely at a
public house, and dine at the trattoria. They break
fast and sup either at their own rooms or at a cofiee
house. As room-rent is generally low, they are thus
enabled to graduate their expenses according to any
scale, that may be compatible with their circumstances.
This is a far more pleasant "way of living than that com
mon among us, and it is to be regretted that establish
ments of the kind here described are not more a-la-
rhode in our principal cities.

VOI<, II.

6 TWO TEARS AND A HALE
In the few remarks which I have to make on Genoa,
for the sake of greater brevity and method, I shall drop
the order of time in which my observations were made.
I have already spoken of the delightful situation,
which this city enjoys. The view of it from the harbour
is indeed enchanting, as all who have ever been there can
not fail to testify; and, if the visiter is somewhat disap
pointed on landing and walking through it, he still sees
enough to justify him in pronouncing it one of the most
beautiful and agreeable places in the world. More than
one hundred churches and about an equal number of pa
laces, many of which are either entirely built of rich
marbles, or incrusted and otherwise adorned with them,
together with a large number of other splendid public
and private edifices, could not fail to give to any city,
however situated, an air of grandeur and magnificence.
There are three streets in Genoa, [Strada Balbi, Stra
da Nuova and Strada Novissima,) composed wholly
of the palaces of noblemen and other rich citizens, and
though they are narrow and somewhat winding in their
direction, nothing can be more rich and imposing than
the appearance they present to the spectator. It is these
noble streets that have procured for the Ligurian Capi
tal the proud appellation. of the "city of mai'ble pa
laces." The other streets of G^noa are also narrow and
irregular, but they are handsomely paft^ed with square
stones, and, except in the poorer parts of the town, clean
and wholesome. As in Barcelona, so here, each street,
in the commercial parts of the town, presents a homo
geneous appearance. There is one allotted exclusively
to jewellery, which it would not be prudent for a man,
predisposed to violate the tenth commandment, to pass
through very frequently. The houses of Genoa average
frpm^ve to six stories in height. Some of them run
up to.'eight. They are all, those of tlie poor as well as
of the rich, .furnished in every story with fountains of
excellent mountaiijtovater. ¦
Genoa is encircled by. two walls, called the old and
new walls. The fA-mer embraces the more populous

IN THE NAVT.

part of the city, and is five miles in circumference. The
latter takes in the whole amphitheatre of hills by which
the harbour is surrounded, and is nine miles in cir
cuit.

As we commenced our cruise through the city by
, visiting the churches, I may as well despatch them first
When I was in Genoa, I thought very differently of the
beauty of its churches from what I have since done;
and in recurring to the rough sketch in my journal made
upon the spot, I find many opinions respecting them
which I now consider heterodox, and which I should be
unwilling to publish to the world. * Before I left Ita
ly, indeed, the variety and accumulation of tawdry or
naments, with which the Italians decorate their churches,
began to cloy and offend me, and the opportunities
%vhich I have .since had of contemplating the remains of
ancient temples in Greece, have ended with making me
regard them as utterly abhorrent to good taste. HoW
different is the effect produced upon the mind by the
repeated contemplation of an Italian church and a Gre
cian temple! The stucco, gilding, frescoes, and other
ornaments of the former strike you powerfully at first,
but frequent examinations have a tendency to diminish
this original effect, till you come at length to view them
with indifference, if not with disgust; while the chaste
simplicity, the majestic solidity, and the unadorned
beauty of the latter only charm you the more, the oftener
you contemplate them. Nor is this difference of senti
ment less marked in the effect produced by an examina
tion of a large number of individual specimens in each
of these classes of buildings. The more you see of the
former, the less anxious you become to extend the field
of your observation ; whereas,-: an attentive examination
of ninety-nine. specimens of the latter only whets your
appetite for the intellectual feast, which you know you
will enjoy in the contemplation of the hundreth.
In these remarks I must not be understood as waging

8 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
an indiscriminate and universal warfare against the tem
ples of modern Italy. Far from it. While good taste
discovers enough to deplore and reprobate, she also sees
much to admire and to commend in these stately edi
fices. Indeed, nothing is more common here than to
see good and bad taste locked in fraternal embraces, as
if the old differences between them had given way to a
loving but most ungracious reconciliation.
Of all the churches in Genoa, that which pleased me
most both on account of its architecture and the excel
lence of the sculpture and paintings with which it is
adorned, was the church of Carignano. It occupies an
elevated site a little out of the most thickly settled part
of the city, and is one of the most conspicuous and in
teresting objects that attract the attention in the approach
to Genoa. Its form is an exact square. The architec
ture is of the Corinthian order, and the ornaments of the
four fronts are all alike, with tbe exception of those over
the door of the facade facing the bridge bf Carignano.
There are three statues; one of the Virgin borne by
angels to heaven, and two others, being those of Peter
and Paul, by her side. At each extremity of this front
rises a lofty campanile, or belfry, and over the cen
tre of the church a magnificent dome, said to have been
modelled after that of St. Peter's in Rome. There are
four smaller domes or turrets at the four angles of the
church. These are in bad taste, as they tend to destroy
the majesty of the edifice by giving it an air of littleness.
The interior of the church is in the form of a Greek
cross. The centre .dome is supported by four im
mense pillars, in the niches of which are placed four co
lossal statues — those, to wit, of St Sebastian, of B. Al-
lessandro Saoli, of St John the Baptist, and of St. Bar
tholomew. The first two, by the celebrated French ar-,
tist Puget, are well deserving of the attention of the
lovers of the fine arts. The third, by Philip Parodi, is
executed with scarcely less force and spirit than those
by Puget The fourth is by Claudius Javid, and is in
ferior to either of the others. The ch'SBfl are adorned

IN THE NAVT. 9
with paintings by some of the most celebrated masters —
Guercino, Procaccino, Cambiaso, &c. This church was
erected by a private gentleman, a Genoese nobleman by
the name of Sauli. His descendants built a bridge over
a deep ravine near the church, a work of prodigious la
bour and expense, solely to facilitate the approach to it
from the city. This bridge stands upon three arches,
and is a curiosity on account of its immense height You
look down from it on streets so far below you, that the
people whom you see passing appear like a race of pig
mies. I cannot descend to particulars respecting the other
churches of Genoa, as it would swell this volume beyond
the size to which I propose to limit it. Those most
worthy the attention of travellers are the Cathedral and
the churches of the Annunciation, St. Cyrus, Delle
Scuole Pie, and St Stephen. The Cathedral is com
monly called the church of St Lorenzo, and is said to
stand upon the spot where that Saint resided on his jour
ney from Spain to Rome. The order of architecture is
a mixed Gothic, and the want of purity and unity in the
design detract greatly from the effect, which the specta
tor would otherwise feel in contemplating this costly
edifice. The fagade is incrusted with slabs of black and
white marble, and has three arches, supported by sixty-
four small columns of the same kind of marble. The
campanile, which stands at one of the front angles of
the church, has a similar incrustation. The interior is
as rich, and sins as much against good taste, as marble,
stucco and gilding can make it The little chapel of St.
John the Baptist has been particularly favoured in this
respect. Its vault is one glare of gold, and the altar and
walls are loaded with a profusion of decorations. There
is an iron urn preserved in this chapel, which is said to
contain the ashes of the saint to whom it is dedicated.
Our cicerone told us a curious story about the efficacy
of these ashes in calming a tempestuous sea. « When
r+he sea," said he, "is agitated by storms, if this urn is
ken down and placed upon the mole, the wind imme-
2*

10 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
diately ceases, and the troubled waters become tranquil,"
This, said I, is what the priests tell you, I suppose.
Non, Signore, he rejoined, noi stessi l'abbiam,o ve-
duto.* It would not have been quite polite in me to
question such authority, and the discussion was dropped
at this point. Females are strictly excluded from this
chapel, because John was beheaded through the influ
ence of a woman. While we were there", a French lady
with her two daughters entered it to examine its orna
ments more closely: but as soon as the sexton perceived
them within the balustrade which separates it from the
nave of the church, he hastened to inform them that
they were treading on forbidden ground.
In one of the vestries of this church is still kept the
Catino, or emerald vase, so famous throughout Christen
dom, both for what is known and for what is not known
of it. It is a sexagon, with two handles or ears, hol
lowed on the lower side; one of which is rough, and the
other polished. The diameter of the edge is a palm
seven inches and a half, and its circumference five palms
wanting an inch. The cavity is six inches in perpen
dicular depth, and the height eight, leaving two inches
for the thickness of the bottom. So much for its shape
and dimensions. The opinion that it is emerald is now
universally given up. It is green glass, highly polished,
and of the most brilliant transparency. Its value arises
from its high antiquity and its history. It was found at
Cesarea, when that place was wrested from the infidels
by the Christians in eleven hundred and one, and was
selected by the Genoese as their part of the spoils. It
was then supposed to be emerald, and therefore of much
more intrinsic value than it was m reality. It was pre
served with the most religious care by the city whose
piety had chosen it instead of millions, till Napoleon in
vaded Italy and rifled her of whatever she possessed
most precious in antiquities and the arts, when it was
transported to Paris among tlie rest of his ravished trea-
• " No, ar, we ourselves have seen it."

IN THE NAVr. 1 1
siu-es. It has, however, since been restored to the Ge
noese, though considerably injured by a fracture which it
received on its journey. This is what is known of it.
Conjecture declares that it was presented by the Queen
of Sheba to Solomon, and that it is the same out of
which Christ and his disciples ate the Paschal Lamb.
The church of St. Cyrus is said by some traveller to
be one of the handsomest in Italy. However this may
be, to my taste it is decidedly one of the finest in Genoa.
The quantity and richness of the marbles with which it
is adorned, are prodigious. The columns which sepa
rate the naves are of beautiful white marble of the com
posite order, and each one of them is hewn from a single
block. The great altar in front of the choir is the work
of Puget. The remains of many ofthe bishops of Genoa
and of some of the archbishops of Milan are deposited
in this church.
In the richness and variety of its adornings, the
church of the Annunciation perhaps surpasses any other
in Genoa. The frescoes in the vault of the principal
nave are by John Carlone, and are sufficient of them
selves to confer immortality on the name of their author.
They represent, with matchless force and beauty, our
Saviour adored by the wise men, — entering glorious into
Jerusalem, — praying in the garden of Gethsemane, —
risen from the grave', — appearing after his resurrection
to his mother, — and she herself in the act of being crown
ed by angels Queen of heaven.
The other two churches that I mentioned, those, to wit,
of Le Scuole Pie and S. Stephen are not remarkable in
themselves, but the works with which they are adorned
richly repay the trouble of a visit to them. The former
contains some ofthe most precious basso-relievos in Genoa.
They relate to the mysteries of the Virgin, and were
all designed by Francesco Schiaffino, and executed by
him and Carlo Cacciatore, one of his pupils. The latter
boasts one of the finest, perhaps the very finest painting
in Genoa. No one who visits that city, and who is not
Restitute of all relish for the beauties of this glorious art,

12 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
would be willing to omit seeing it. It is the combined
production ofthe pencils of Titian and Raphael — names
which need no eulogy of mine to add to their fanie.
The subject of the piece is the Stoning of Stephen by
the Jews. The great Captain of the " noble army of
martyrs" is represented to have fallen to the earth, over
whelmed with the shower of stones, which the Jews are
pouring upon him. The meek, benignant, forgiving
expression of his countenance amid the tortures he is
suffering, and with the immediate prospect of death
before him, bears the same relation to the supercilious
disdain and savage joy painted in the looks of his mur
derers, which the spirit of the gospel does to that of the
world. So far the picture commits no offence against
good taste; nor should I object to the appearance of the
Son in the clouds, surrounded by angels, who seem wait
ing to receive his spirit, as soon as it is freed from the
sufferings of the body. But above them all appears the
Almighty Father, encircled by a halo of glory. A sin
gle glance at this attempt to embody the attributes of
Divinity, is enough to make you feel how utterly, incom
petent the human mind is to any such effort. The bold
est and most creative pencil can never express the infi
nite perfections of the Godhead in such a way as not to
do injustice to even the weakest conceptions of created
intellects. " Clouds and darkness are round about him,'^
is the uniform language of scripture in relation to the
Almighty; and, " Ye have neither heard his voice, at any
time, nor seen his shape," should be thundered in the ear
of every artist bold, or rather presumptuous enough to
conceive the design of embodying his perfections in a
picture or a statue.
In the number, beauty and magnificence of its palaces,
Genoa surpasises all other Italian cities. The same ob
jection against excessive decorations does not exist here
as in the churches, for we expect more ornaments, and
are not therefore offended by them. A minute descrip
tion of all those which are worth examining, would of
itself form quite a sizable volume, but I must content

IN THE NAVT. 13
myself with a very few general remarks. The two
palaces which would perhaps excite most interest resplc-
tively in the lovers of architecture and painting, are
tliose of Marcello Durazzo and Giulio Brignole. The
former is one of the noblest edifices, and the latter con
tains the choicest collection of pictures in Genoa. The
Brignole gallery richly merits the attention of amateurs.
The pieces which pleased me most in the collection which
forms this gallery, were the following: — Christ praying
in the Garden of Gethsemane, by Carlo Dolci; the An
nunciation, byCoreggio; a Genoese Senator, by Rubens;
the Jews showing the money to Christ, by Vandyke;
Christ driving the Merchants from the Temple, by Guer
cino; and a burlesque painting of Rubens' family by him
self. The first of these pieces is in miniature. It is
inimitably executed. The bloody sweat is seen rolling
down the face of the Son of God, and so strong and
natural is the expression communicated to his features,
that you almost fancy yourself listening to those memo
rable words, the mingled offspring of agony and resigna
tion, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from
me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt"
The palace of the Marquis of Serra is not large, but it
is remarkable for containing the richest saloon in Europe.
Nothing could be conceived more gorgeous. The deco
rations alone are said to have amounted to a million of
francs, or nearly two hundred thousand dollars. It is
supported by sixteen marble columns, plated with gold.
The vault and every other part of the saloon are as rich
as gold and precious stones can make them. The dining
hall is remarkable for a certain oddity of constructio.n,
being both an exact square and an exact circle. The
square is formed by a set of round columns, and the circle
by a set of angular ones. In a room communicating
between the golden saloon and the dining hall there is a
portrait of the Marchioness, a young lady of the family
of Durazzo. If the painter has not flattered her, she must
he a paragon of beauty. Many of our midshipmen were
so ravished with the beauty of the picture that they
knelt to do it reverence.

14 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
.iThe palace of the Doges is worthy of the men who
4jOrmerly occupied it It is a noble structure, encircling
a large area or court-yard. The principal stair-way
leads up to a small apartment, in other times used as a
counsel chamber, where there is a painting of the land
ing of Columbus in America, and another, opposite to it,
representing the disembarkation of the ashes of St. John
the .Baptist at Genoa. From this apartment you enter
the grand saloon or senate-chamber, which, though less
rich in minute decorations than the saloon in the Serra
palace, exceeds it by far in magnificence and grandeur..
Its vast extent and amazing height; fifty-four immense
columns of brocatello, a fine variegated Spanish marble;
the admirable frescoes which adorn the vault; the beau
tiful pavement composed of large slabs of polished mar
ble; all combine to fill the mind of the spectator with a
sentim.ent of admiration and delight.
In one of the apartments of this palace there is a mar
ble bust of Christopher Columbus, said to be an excel
lent likeness. There are also preserved in the same
room two letters in his own handwriting. They are
written in Spanish, but are such miserable scrawls that I
could hardly decipher a single word. I read, however,
a literal translation of one of them in Italian. It was
dated at Seville on the second of April, 1502, a short
time previous to setting sail on his second ill-fated voy
age to America. It was addressed to the 'Bank of St
George in Genoa, and relates chiefly to his family affairs.
It comiliences with a declaration that, next to David,
God had been more gracious to him than to any other
mortal; and the whole letter breathes such a spirit of sin
cere and unostentatious piety, as to prove that the bold
ness and originality of his genius were equalled only by
the meekness and docility of his temper. He enume
rates the honours conferred on him by his sovereigns in
terms of the most unaffected modesty, always ascribing
all the glory of his discoveries to the grace of God.
These letters, together with a copy of the privileges
granted to him by queen Isabella, are preserved by the

IN THE NAVT. 15
Genoese Government with the most religious care. Tjg.
following is the signature of Columbus in the letters' to
which I have referred. S.
S. A. S.
C. M. S.
Xro FERENS.
The explanation of which is as follows:
Supplex.
Servus. Altissimi. Salvatoris.
Christi. Marias. Josephi.

The name of Columbus must be dear to every true
American heart; and I cannot in this place deny myself
the pleasiire of -paying my feeble tribute of respect to its
memory. On our passage to England, I often of an
evening stationed myself in the main chains to look out
upon the waters and meditate. At such times the genius,
virtues, and achievements of Columbus were frequently
my theme. " How different," I would say to myself,
"how different the circumstances under which / am
crossing the Atlantic for the first time from those of his
first voyage over the same ocean! This mighty reservoir
of water, now the highway of nations, was then an un
known and trackless wilderness. His was the first bark
that ploughed its billowy brine, and his the first eye that
gazed on its clear and glorious blue. Guided by the star
of hope, and fed by visioned glories, he was going — he
knew not where. Who can tell the anxieties that agi
tated his soul, as his gallant vessel dashed fearlessly along
through the pathless and heaving abyss? and who but he
who'felt them could utter the wild ecstasies of delight,
exultation and gratitude, that filled his bosom, when the
new world first burst upon his strained and aching sight,
and the gales from its shores wafted to his senses a sweet
foretaste of its ri^es? Then, indeed, might he have ex
claimed in the la^Piage since attributed to him.

16 TWO* TEARS AND A HALF
"jf hat thought, that longing thought, that fed this soaring heart for
^W^ years, ts •
Unchecked by aught of falsehood's chain, and unrestrained by fears,
Now bounds unfettered in its pride, unpinioned in its' strength.
Its star of light is shining now, its triumph comes at length."
Spots'^f verdure are refreshing to the eye that has
long beheld nothing but burning sands or barren rocks;
so the mind in reviewing past times, delights to escape
from the images of desolation and wo that throng upon
it, and to fasten itself on those points in the picture,
which retain somewhat of the loveliness aud purity of
Eden. The history of Columbus is one of those points.
He was a man of profound and daring genius, but this
was far from being his only or his greatest praise. He
was the friend and benefactor of his species; qualities
which assimilate man to his Maker, and without which
genius and talent's and learning only increase the capacity
and the disposition to do mischief. It is good to let the
characters of such men frequently engross our thoughts.
By the contemplation of great and noble actions, the
mind is naturally warmed into admiration of {hem, and
paftts to mount upward to the same elevated, pure and
commanding region. Selfishness and prejudice melt
away beneath their influence, and we learn to extend
our views and sympathies beyond the limits of kin and
country, and to live not more for ourselves and our own
times, than for the world and posterity.

Genoa is celebrated for the number and splendid
endowments of "its charitable and philanthropic insti
tutions. Multitudes of Genoese noblemen have devot
ed the whole of their fortunes to these benevolent ob'
jects. Ambition alone may have beeii their motive,
but how much nobler is the ambition of living in'tlie
gratitude of the widow and the orphan, the poor and
the afflicted, who have been relieved and made happy
by its generous contributions, than that grovelling and
contemptible sentiment which limits its desires to the
wearing of purple and fine linen, to flie giving of costly

IN THE NAVT. 17
entertainments, and to making the "ignoble vulgar" stare
at the glitter of its equipages. I wish in God that such
ambition were morfe prevalent in the world. It would
heal the sores of many a heart, now broken and crushed
beneath the weight of its own sorrows; it would gild the
sunset of life to thousands whom misfortune, at one cruel
blow, has stripped of wealth and friends and comfort ;
and finally, it would impart to all the indigent, ignorant
and distressed of every class, the blessings of competency,
knowledge and religion.
At the head ofthe philanthropic institutions of Genoa
stands the Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb. It is one of
the best regulated and most ably conducted institutions
of the kind in liie world. It numbered, when I was in
Genoa, seventy pupils, forty of whom were females. I
saw the male department only, and I was not more
gratified with any thing I saw during the whole pe
riod of my absence from America, than I was with the
¦progress which these unfortunate beings were mak
ing in the various departments of knowledge. Indeed,
I was not only gratified but astonished at the excel
lence of many of their drawings, and the extent and
accuracy of their knowledge of history. As a specimen
I subjoin an extract from a dialogue ''which I held in
writing with a boy only eighteen years of age, who,
in add5;ion to the language of his own country, under
stood and wrote Latin, German, Russian, French, Spanish
and English. His answers were always given with the
utmost promptness. The sentences embraced in quota
tion marks are his. Not the slightest alteration has been
made in any of them in construction, orthography, punc
tuation, or capitals.
What Grecian General gained the battle of Marathon ?
" Miltiades, whom the ungrateful athenians condemn
ed to a fine, upon a mere suspicion of bribery. "
What philosopher was said by Plato to have brought
philosophy from heaven .¦*
" his own master Socrates."
Who commanded the American army in the time of
the Revolution ?
VOL. II. 3

18 ' TWO TEARS AND A HALF
" Washington — he was truly an ablest general, which
can be compared to Miltiades, for he assured the Inde
pendence of his Country with a little army ^inst the
most powerful Monarchy in Europe." '^''
How long have you been in this institution ?
"13 years." .
You have learned a great deal : I am extremely gra
tified to see your progress and that of your companions.
" I thank you ; yet an application of so many years
ought [to] have got me such few knowledges."
I gave him the seven following words to introduce
into a single sentence ; — ^viz. virtue, vice, piety, honour,
peace, justice, indulgence. He did not stop to think cer
tainly over two or three minutes, when he wrote and
handed me the following : —
"The best support in time of Peace of a kingdom
which has been illustrated by military Honour in time
of war, is to maintain the rights of Justice in its {their]
whole integrity, for in such a manner .Vice being de
pressed. Virtue gets an Empire over all the inclinations
of people, whilst false Piety or unbounded Indulgence
can lead it by the corruption of many to a total ruin, as
it happened once with the Roman Empire.
" Pray correctthe faults."
He expressed a wish to visit the ship with his teacher,
and I gave him a letter of introduction to an pfficer :
whereupon he immediately addressed to me the follow
ing : — " I am very grateful for your interesting [interest
in] me, and cannot compensate this but by the truest senti
ments of my heart and the remembrance of your person
and goodness." »

Next in interest to the Asylum for Deaf Mutes is the
Albergo dei Poveri, or Poor House. The building ap
propriated to the institution is the largest in Genoa, and
it is also one of the finest specimens of architecture. It
is an exact square, each side measuring one thousand
seven hundred and fifty palms in length. It encloses
four gardens, each of which is about fifty palms square,

IN THE NAVT. 19
and adorned with a fountain in the centre. It is five
stories in height. The front is ornamented with two orders
of architecture, the Tuscan and Corinthian. In one part
of the building there is a small chapel, where mass is said
for the benefit of the poor attached to the institution.
This chapel contains an alto-relievo by Michael Angelo
— the most precious piece of sculpture in Genoa. It re
presents Mary contemplating her Dead Son. In this little
piece, nature is copied with so much accuracy that one
can scarcely believe it is marble. Christ appears to be
asleep; but, though a Divine benignity still rests upon his
countenance, his sleep is evidently the sleep of death.
Mary is in the act of embracing her Son, with her eyes
fixed intently upon him. And such a look! What ma
ternal tenderness! what heart-rending sorrow! yet what
pious resignation! The_works of Michael Angelo are
generally stamped with a character of greatness and
strength, and, while the mastery of his genius in this re
spect has been universally felt, it has been thought that
his chisel was incapable of giving a " local habitation" to
the graceful, the -tender, and the lovely. The little piece
which I have just described, is of itself sufficient to refute
such a supposition, and to prove that, much as he excels
all the sculptors of modern times in the power of animat
ing the marble with profound thought and lofty senti
ment, he is scarcely less siiperior to them in the power
of making it express the gentler and more amiable quali
ties of our nature.
The number of poor of every description in the Al
bergo, when we were in Genoa, amounted to eighteen
hundred, i. e. six hundred and sixty males, and eleven
hundred and forty females. I was delighted with the
neatness, good order and industry which appeared to pre
vail in the institution. They have stated hours for la
bour, when all who are not sick, or otherwise excused,
are required to be at their stations. Their principal em
ployments consist in making carpeting, cotton and linen
stuffs, handkerchiefs, ribbons and lace. There was a
large oblong apartment filled with girls engaged in the
two last mentioned employments. Many of the young

20 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
women were very beautiful, and some were so abashed
by our presence that they covered their faces with their
handkerchiefs, ceased their work, and did not raise their
heads again till we had left the room. We could not
doubt that these were persons who had known what better
circumstances were, and in whose mind our presence
awakened bitter recollections. We were unwilling to
remain long in a place where we knew that our absence
would be felt as a relief, and therefore,iiurried out again
before we had satisfied our curiosity by examining as mi
nutely as we could have wished the beautiful operation of
making ribbons. The good effects of this institution are
seen in the suppression, or more properly perhaps the di
minution of street-beggary. There is less of this in Ge
noa than in any other of the Italian cities that we visited.
There are two hospitals in Genoa, to wit, H Ospedale
J^etto di Pammatone and U Ospedale degV Incurabili.
The former had about eight hundred patients when we
were there. It is a vast edifice, capable of affording ac
commodations to upwards of a thousand invalids. The
apartments are large, clean and airy. This hospital was
originally founded by Bartolomeo Brosco in 1420, but
its funds have since been greatly increased by the libe
rality of numerous other gentlemen, whose benefactions
are commemorated by the statues, which fill the niches
of the Infirmary.
In the hospital of the Incurable there were eight
hundred and thirty patients; four hundred and eighty
females, one hundred and twenty of whom were insane
— and three hundred and fifty males, two hundred of
whom were insane. Many of the victims of that terri
ble disease, insanity, were so bad as to be chained to^
their couches, but 1 will not shock the reader's nerves
by any account of their conduct. Such exhibitions are
humiliating to the pride of our nature, and ought to
make us adore and love the Goodness which has hitherto
preserved us from a calamity more to be dreaded than
death itself — the loss of our reason, and the prostration
of every faculty, that distinguishes man from the brutes.
There is another charitable institution in Genoa,

IN THE NAVT. 21
which ought not to be omitted in a description of this
kind, as it does honour to its founder and to the city for
whose benefit it was chiefly intended. It is an Asylum
for Orphan Girls, founded in 1760, by Francesco Fies-
chi, a rich Genoese nobleman, and tfrom him the girls
admitted to its benefits are called Fieschine. Their chief
occupation is that of making artificial fruits and flowers,
and justly as the French are celebrated for their skill in
this beautiful manufacture, those made by the bene
ficiaries of this institution are far superior to the French.
At the distance of a few paces, the flowers could
scarcely be distinguished from those which are natural,
and the fruits — it was enough to make one's mouth wa
ter to behold the cherries, damsons, apricots, &c., which
seemed to invite you to pluck and eat. The girls
are kept for the most part secluded from the -world,
but they are allowed to marry when of a marriageable
age, and^ta facilitate SQjea^FabIe.gnend, there are stated ]
public exhibitions, at which the young men of the city
and country in want of wives, resort as to a fair to ob
tain them. On their marriage, they receive a handsome
dowry from the funds of the institution. The building
appropriated to the use of the Orphans occupies a delight
ful situation on an eminence in the suburb Zerbino. It
commands a fine view of the city, the suburbs and the
Mediterranean. It is sufficiently capacious to receive
six hundred Orphans.

There are other buildings and institutions in Genoa,
well worthy of the attention of visiters. The palace of
the University is a noble edifice. Every thing. about it
is in a style of vastness and magnificence; — ^the fagade,
the stair-case, the court-yard, the halls, &c. At the foot
of the stairs which lead up to the court-yard, are two co
lossal lions. The University numbers about five hun
dred students. It has a museum containing an extensive
and valuable collection of natural curiosities. The li
brary comprises forty thousand volumes, among which
there is a number of interesting manuscripts.
3*

22 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
The new Theatre is a beautiful specimen of architec
ture. It is designed and constructed after the model of
San Carlo at Naples. I was present at one of the per
formances. It was a comedy entitled II Corso, the
wliole interest of which arose from a succession of mis
takes growing out ef an advertisement of a rich old mer
chant, who wished to marry his daughter. It reminded
me of Shakspeare's Comedy of Errors, the poorest of all
his dramatic productions. Neither the-piece nor the act
ing were of any very great merit.
In the public Promenade there is nothing worthy of
particular remark. It is an agreeable and fashionable
place of resort of a summer evening.

Genoa boasts a large number of beautiful gardens, but
my remarks have already been extended so^ much be
yond my original intention, that the reader will no doubt
be glad to excuse me from particularizing. The grounds
belonging to the palace of Pallavicini are among those
which most richly repay the trouble of visiting them.
There the visiter meets with grottoes whose vaults and
sides are composed of pebbles of variou s colours, fancifully
arranged, and wliere the freshness of a vernal evening may
be enjoyed during the mid-day heats of the summer sol
stice, while the spirit is soothed by the sweet bubblings of
the water that oozes out and trickles down their sides.
There are fountains and fish-ponds— t^grass-plats and flow
er-beds — labyrinthine walks and mournful cypress trees
— everything, in short, which the most luxurious imagina
tion could desire; and the whole so perfumed with balmy
odours that one might easily fancy himself breathed upon
by gales wafted from the gardens of Cashmere, or the
spice groves of Arabia Felix. The palace itself is as yet
unfinished and destitute of furniture, but it occupies an
elevated and beautiful site a little out of the town, whence
the spectator enjoys a very extensive view. Land and
water, town and country, mountains and valleys, groves
and pastures, are here brought beneath the eye in one
enchanting whole. I will not say that the eloquent

IN THE NAVT. 23
looks and words of a young Italian beauty, with
whom I visited this place, may not have had some
effect upon my ideas of its charms, but leaving the
reader to make whatever deductions he may please on
that account, I advise him, if he ever goes to Genoa,
to pay it a visit, and, if he has any taste for the beauti
ful in nature, I am sure he will be obliged to me for my
recommendation. No one who visits Genoa, should omit to see the villa
and botanic garden of the Marquis Di Negro. The gar
den contains a large variety of interesting plants, and is
adorned with fountains and arbours. The Marquis has
also an extensive and. valuable collection of curiosities
both ancient and modern. He has been a great impro-
visitore, but is now so far advanced in life that the poetie
fires have begun to cool. Unlike Italian noblemen gene
rally, he does not allow his servants to receive any com
pensation for their attentions to visiters.

Our ship was visited a great deal while she lay in the
harbour of Genoa, and was much admired. The first
Sunday after our arrival, there could not have been less
than a thousand persons on board. . I formed an acquaint
ance that day with a respectable^ family from Florence,
consisting of a mother and two daughters, who were on
a visit to some of their friends in Genoa. I called on
them frequently during our stay in that city. The oJd
lady, when she becanie animated in conversation, in the
true style of Florentine politeness, would slap me on the
knee, as if I had been an acquaintance of some years
standing.

The history of Genoa is full of incident and instruc
tion. It was anciently a province of the Roman empire,
but did not rise to much consideration. In more modern
times it has stood on higher ground, and played a more
important part. It has sustained one siege'that has been
compared to that of Troy, and its long and obstinate

24 TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT.
contest with the Venetian Republic has been thought a
worthy imitation of the second Punic War. Genoa
took a more active part and distinguished herself more
in the Crusades against the Infidels, than any other na
tion of Christendom- In navigation, commerce, enter
prise, devotion to liberty and the extent of her conquests,
she left all her sister republics, except that of Venice,
far behind. She has left the memorials of her former
greatness in almost every part of the Mediterranean and
Levant. Every where in the East::— in Egypt, Pales
tine, Asia Minor, Thrace and the Isles and Continent of
Greece, the ruins of her fortifications and of those of her
great rival are seen mingled with the more hallowed re
lics of antiquity. To the patriotism, genius and wisdom
of Andrew Doria, the greatest of all her citizens, Genoa
owed two hundred years of internal quiet and pros
perity, during which period she drove an active com
merce with all the countries from Spain to Palestine,
and from Egypt to the Black sea. It was then that her
citizens amassed those princely fortunes, which they have
since so liberally expended in adorning their native city
with churches, palaces and edifices for charitable and
other institutions. But Genoa could not resist the opera
tion of the causes which have sapped the foundation of
all the Italian Republics; and she whose navies once
rode in triumph on every sea, and whose power was felt
and feared by the nrost distant nations,' is now a petty
portion of the dominions of the king of Sardinia, her
commerce swept from the ocean, the enterprise of her
citizens paralyzed, her wealth swallowed up in the vor
tex of dissipation, and the spirit of liberty crushed be
neath an iron despotism.

( 25 )

CHAPTER II.

We sailed from Genoa on the twenty-second of July,
and came to an anchor in the roads off Leghorn, on the
evening of the twenty -fourth. The morning of the
twenty-seventh beheld me in the queen of the cities —
the fair, the lovely, the glorious Florence. But I will
check my raptures for the present, and tell the reader
how I got there.

Immediately after breakfast on Monday morning, the
twenty-sixth, I left the ship ¦ to pay a running visit to
Pisa and Florence. I had declined an invitation to go
with a large party of officers, chiefly for the purpose of
associating more with the natives, and of improving my
self in the language. Having obtained my pass-port
and engaged a seat in a vettura, that was to pass, through
Pisa for Florence in the evening, I took a seat in ano
ther for the former city, anxious to see as much of it as
I could in the short space of a single afternoon. My
vetturino, as is usual in Italy, gave me a piece of money
as a pledge of my seat, and assured me that his carriage
would set off precisely at eleven o'clock. His eleven in
the morning, as it turned out, meant nearly one in the
afternooif; and it was not till those of us who had taken
seats and were actually in the vettura, had seriously
threatened him with leaving it and getting another, that
we could induce him to put off. At the gate of the city
we were stopped, our pass-ports called for, and our
trunks all opened and examined by an officer of the
customs. Having performed his duty, he bowed very
politely, and wished us a buonviaggio. #
The country between Leghorn and Pisa is low, mo
notonous and unioteresting. We arrived at the latter

26 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
place about three o'clock, P. M. I immediately pro
cured a cicerone, and set off on a cruise. The four prin
cipal objects of interest at Pisa are, as every body knows,
the Duomo, or Cathedral; the Baptistry ;^ the Campo Santo
or Cemetery; and the Leaning Tower. These are all
situated on a large Piazza, or square, at the north angle
ofthe city. There is not another public square, in any
city in the world, adorned with so rare, precious and
magnificent an assemblage of objects as this. I had not
time to examine them minutely, but the passing glance
I gave them, was enough to convince me of the truth of
this assertion.
The Cathedral was built abCut the commencement of
the eleventh century, and is supposed to stand upon the
site of an ancient palace of Adrian. The architect was
Buschetto, and the Pisans claim for him the honour of
having been the first to break the shackles of that " de
praved and heavy taste adopted by the ancient Goths."*
The style of architecture occupies a middle ground
between the Gothic and ^the Grecian. The three front
doors are adorned with miniature bronze figures, illus
trating the histories of Mary and our Saviour. The
scenes were designed by Giovanni Bologna, and exe
cuted by various artists, among whom Pietro Tacca
deserves to be particularly mentioned. They are master
productions, and cannot fail to delight every beholder,
who knows how to appreciate their merits. Some have
regarded them as rivalling the three doors of the Baptis
try at Florence, but in this opinion I cannot concur. The
interior view of this temple produces a striking effect by
its vastness and splendour, though it could be wished
that the pleasure which it gives, were not partially
destroyed by the want of purity and simplicity in the
design. The sexton, a young man of about twenty-five
years of age, pointed out the beauties of the building and
its various ornaments, with a flippancy, astonishing even
in an Italian commentator.

* "Quel gusto depravato e pesante che adottarono eU anticlu
Goti." ,1.

IN THE NAVT. 27
The Baptistry, or church of St. John the Baptist, was
erected about a century after the Cathedral. It is a ro-
tundo, standing upon an ample basement considerably
elevated above the ground. Many of the details, when
examined separately, are chaste and beautiful, but as a
whole, whether considered externally or internally, it is
so crowded with different orders, and so overloaded with
decorations, as to be highly offensive to good taste.
The Cemetery is on many accounts the most curious
and interesting monument in Pisa. It is called Campo
Santo, from the circumstance of the ground where it
was erected having been covered with earth brought
from the Holy Land by the Archbishop Ubaldo Lan-
franchi, on his return from a crusade in that country.
It is on this account held in the highest veneration by
all true Catholics. The architect was Giovanni Pisano,
who completed it, according to the original design, in
the year 1283; but some additions were afterwards made
by the direction of Filippo dei Medici, when he was
Archbishop of Pisa. It is a vast parallelogram, two
hundred and twenty-two Italian bracci in length, and
seventy-six in breadth. It has two entrances, both on
the south side. The interior is a vast gallery, eighteen
braccia in width and five 'hundred and seventy-eight in
circuit, enclosing an open cloister, covered with green
sward, and giving support to a few sickly cypresses.
The order of architecture is modern Gothic. The pave
ment of the gallery is of white marble, and the number
of sepulchres underneath it upwards of six hundred.
The walls are painted in fresco by some pf the earliest
artists, and the great number of antiquities collected
there furnish a wide field of observation to the antiquary,
¦and, what is still dearer to him, a wider one for conjec
ture and speculation.
The Campanile more generally known by the name
of the Leaning Tower, is a great curiosity. It is a cir
cular marble structure, ninety-five braccia in height and
eighty-three in circumference at the base. It is sur
rounded by eight peristyles, rising one above another,
each of which is composed of twenty-six columns, makr

28 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
ing the whole number of columns two hundred and
eight Of these some are granite and some marble; —
some of ancient and others of modern workmanship.
Many ofthe capitals of the modern columns are also relics
of antiquity. But what renders the Tower an object of
singular attention, is its extraordinary inclination of
seventeen braccia, an inclination amounting to about one
half of the diameter of the base. The view from its
summit is extensive and beautiful. It embraces not only
every part of the city, but the whole of the rich plain
of Pisa, watered hy the winding Arno, and terminated
on one side by the mountains of Lucca, and on the other
by. the waters of the Mediterranean. It has long been a
contest between those who could find nothing more im
portant to quarrel about, whether th^ inclination of the
campanile entered into the original design, or was sub
sequently occasioned by the accidental settling of the
earth under a portion of the foundation. I am not about to
enter the lists with either set of champions, but may never
theless be permitted to say en passant that the former
of these suppositions appears utterly preposterous. If it
were true, what would it prove? Why, neither more
nor less than that the two architects, who designed and
executed the work, Guglielmo d'Inspruck and Bonanno,
were a pair of asses; — an allegation, which every other
part of this beautiful structure most fully disproves.

Pisa, in former times one the most populous towns in
Italy, is now reduced to a population of less than twenty
thousand souls. The gloomy silence of its deserted
streets forms one of the most striking features in the
modern city, and cannot fail to make an impression on
the mind of every stranger who beholds it, as lasting as
the memory of his visit. There are indeed some parts
of it which present a more animated and bustling-appear
ance. The principal of these is the Lung' Arno, two wide
and beautiful streets, running in a winding direction
along the banks of the Arno through the whole city.
The coup d'ceil which a spectator enjoys in contemplat-

IN THE NAVT. 29
ing the scene on the Lung' Arno about sunset, is pecu
liarly picturesque and striking. The classic waters of
the Arno winding and murmuring beneath his feet, the
magnificent marble bridges which communicate between
tlie two parts of the city, the spacious and splendid edi
fices which line the streets, and finally the multitudes of
fair Pisans, who have walked out to inhale the balmy
breath of evening, and whose graceful forms are seen
lightly tripping over the pavements, combine to form
one of the most gratifying and animating spectacles it is
possible to imagine. During the triennial illuminations
in honour of Ranieri, the patron saint of the city, this
view is said to surpass in splendour and theatrical effect
any thing ever seen in any other part of Europe.

The history of Pisa is replete with incidents possess
ing all the interest of romance, with examples of chival
rous devotion to country, and with lessons of the highest
practical philosophy. To say nothing of its early founda
tion by the Greeks, the high consideration to which it
afterwards rose, and its importance to the Roman empire,
it is enough for its glory that, among the modern Italian
Republics, it was second only to Venice and Genoa in
power, while it equalled them both in the commercial
enterprise and military prowess of its citizens, and left
the latter far behind in the more elegant and intellectual
pursuits of literature, philosophy and the fine arts. The
Pisans in fact claim for their countryman Buschetto the
honour of having rescued architecture from the barba
rous taste of the Visigoths, and for Giunta, another
Pisan, that of having revived the art of painting in 1230,
twenty years before Cimabue was born.

About dusk I went to the Locanda, or inn, where I
was to meet the vettura in which I had engaged my seat
As I was in momentary expectation of its arrival, I did not
wait for a warm supper to be prepared, but hastily swal
lowed a cold partridge, and then had the cold comfort of
VOL. IL 4

30 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
waiting nearly two hours for the appearance of my friend,
the vetturino. Several carriages passed the LocandcC
during this period, and I began to entertain serious
apprehensions that mine might be among the number.
At length, however, much to my relief, a vettura drove
up and stopped before the door, and the harsh tones of
the vetturino's voice fell like music on my ear, when I
heard him inquire if the ujiziale Jimericano was there?
I was not long in getting to my seat, and it was precisely
ten o'clock, when we set off. During the summer
months, travelling in Italy is performed almost exclu
sively at night. The comfort of both man and beast is
consulted in this arrangement. The nights are gene
rally clear, tranquil, and balmy; but the heats ofthe day
are almost intolerable, and the dust set in motion by the
carriages is little less than suffocating.
The d.irect road from Pisa to Florence lies all the way
through the vale of the Arno, and frequently so near to
that classic stream, that we could distinctly hear its mur-
murings, as it flowed along over its pebbly bottom.
When I visited Florence, the Arno was reduced to a
simple brook, though during the rainy season, it swells
to a stream of considerable magnitude. Chateaubriand
says that the rivers of America have spoiled him for
those of Europe. It is a fact that, in this department of
her works, nature seems both there and in Asia to have
laboured on a smaller scale than in America. The Ilissus,
the Pactolus and the Scamander are no more than purling
rivulets ; and even Ingens Pater Inachus, when I had
the honour of seeing him, was so far advanced in his
dotage, that he had not the strength of a striplitig. He
was dry as the sands of Lybia. But if the Arno itself
did not answer my expectations, the charming valley
through which it flows, more than realized all the bright
visions in which fancy had ever arrayed it. Nature and
art have exhausted all their resources, and lavished them
upon this favoured region. The Vale of Paradise could
scarcely have been more enchanting. As you approach
the Tuscan Capital, the country becomes like one con
tinued garden. It is with justice that Mad, de Stael

IN THE NAVT. 31
calls Florence " the city embalsomed with flowers;" and
Milton exclaims with equal truth, " How horrible must
be the despair which is not calmed by an air so sweet."

We arrived at Florence about nine o'clock the follow
ing morning. As far as I have had an opportunity of
seeing Italian cities, I fully agree with Boccacio that
Florence is " oltre ad ogni aXtra Italica bellissima"
— beautiful beyond every other in Italy. The streets
are wide, clean and elegantly paved with large square
stones; the public squares are numerous and adorned with
fountains, colonnades, and more than one hundred and
fifty marble statues ; many of the churches, palaces and
public buildings are magnificent ; the Cascine and the
Gwdens of Boboli furnish extensive and delicious pro
menades ; and altogether the city and its environs are
such as a person fond of fashion and of luxury would
select for his residence. Its situation too is just what
it should be ; far enough in the interior to be removed
from the bustle and confusion of commerce; in the midst
of a vast and fertile valley, smiling with vineyards and
villages, watered by a river whose very name is poetry,
and which flows through it in a thousand graceful sinuo
sities, and terminated by a noble amphitheatre of moun
tains, which give an air of majesty and grandeur to a
scene that would otherwise be only picturesque and
beautiful. The Arno flows through the city nearly in a right line,
dividing it into two unequal parts. It is crossed by three
bridges, all of which are works of great solidity, strength
and convenience. That of Santa Trinitii is reckoned
one of the finest monuments in Florence.

The public Pleasure Grounds, called the Cascine, are
without the walls of the city, and may be said to be an
island, formed on one side by a canal and on the other
by the Arno, Relying upon a judgment formed merely

32 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
by the eye, I should say that they cover an extent equal
to half the city of New York. I know not in what lan
guage to describe them, so as to convey to the reader any
thing like the effect they produced upon my own mind.
Majestic shade trees, scented groves and verdant lawns
— bubbling fountains, a murmuring river and breathing
marble, are here congregated together, and compose a
whole, fitted, by its beauty and harmony, to afford the
highest gratification to the eye and the imagination.
Near the centre of the Cascine, Leopold caused to be
erected a beautiful palace, which has been further im
proved and adorned with appropriate ornaments by Fer
dinand the Third. In front of this palace the coaches of
the noblemen who drive out there in the evening, are
accustomed to stop, and their inmates to descend and
divert themselves by promenading and conversation.
The number of persons, particularly noblemen and citi
zens of the richer sort, who resort to the Cascine, is pro
digious. In the principal street, which is bordered on
each side by two rows of tall and venerable trees, there
is a constant stream of carriages, drawn by steeds full of
spirit and richly caparisoned ; while the lawns are gay
with a thousand fairy forms, and the sounds of mirth that
proceed from the various groups of children playing upon
the green sward, fall upon the ear with a touching effect
There is indeed one drawback, and it is not a small one,
to the pleasure one feels at this hour in these delightful-
grounds. While the evidences of luxurious wealth and
simple-hearted contentment are so thick around him, he
is at the same time often saluted by wretches in tattered
garments and with haggard countenances, who beg of
him, in the name of the blessed Virgin, some miserable
pittance to lighten the pressure of their wants.
In returning to the city, the first evening that I walk
ed out to the Cascine, I took the path that lies along the
bank of the Arno. This was the favourite haunt of the
great tragic poet of Italy — Alfieri. Here, it is said, he
composed many of those sublime passages, which, when-
recited upon the stage, thrilled the multitudes who were

IN THE NAVT. 33
assembled to hear them, and which will remain everlast
ing monuments to his genius, and to the glory of the
country that gave him birth. Here Milton was accus
tomed to soothe his spirit by the sweet murmurings of
the classic stream that flowed at his feet, and to drink
inspiration from the glorious scenery which renders the
Vale of the Arno one of the most delicious spots on earth.
It was on this bank that tlie passionate Petrarch swept
those burning chords that refused to breathe but in praise
of the charms of the loved and lovely Laura. Here, as
well as from the top of Fiesole, " through optic glass the
Tuscan Artist" studied the motions and laws ofthe hea
venly bodies; and here too Boccacio was wont to medi
tate, while composing those memorable novels, distin
guished alike for the licentious images and principles
which they exhibit and inculcate, the originality with
which they were conceived, and the fascinating graces of
style which half conceal the monstrous deformity of this
offspring of genius and depravity.

At ten o'clock on the morning following that of my
arrival, I was at the Royal and Imperial Gallery — that
vast collection of monuments of the arts, commenced by
the illustrious family of the Medici, and since so enrich
ed by the munificence of the Princes of the House of
Austria, that it has become the glory and pride of Flor
ence, and is in effect, next to that of the Vatican at
Rome, the richest and most extensive in the world.
The collection composing the gallery is contained in an
immense edifice, called Gli Ufizii, designed by Giorgio
Vasari, and built on both sides of the street Lamber-
tesca. The building consists of two wings, each four
hundred and thirty feet in length, and an intermediate
part of ninety-seven feet, which crosses the street above-
mentioned, and connects the wings. The ascent is by
a magnificent stair^way, and the entrance through two
vestibules, in the first of which are placed the busts of
all the princes Who have enriched the Gallery, and " who
seem," so says the guide book, "assembled to do the
4*

34 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
honours of their palace to strangers." A spacious and
beautiful corridor, eleven feet wide and twenty in
height, extends the whole circuit of the building. It
contains collections of six distinct classes of works. A
suite of apartments, twenty in number, open into the cor
ridor, and most of them communicate with each other.
Here whatever is rare in antiquities, whatever is gloriou^
in the arts, and whatever is valuable in gems and pre
cious stones, are united to gratify the curiosity and taste
of the visiter. Each of the apartments is appropriated
to a particular class of works. One, for example, con
tains specimens of antique bronzes, another paintings of
the Flemish school, a third, portraits of painters by them
selves, and so on.
But I am detaining the reader longer by general de
scriptions than I detained myself from a sight of what
every one who visits Florence is most anxious to see —
the Venus de Medicjs. The author of a burlesque
" Trip to Rome," published a few years ago in some of
the Magazfnes, speaking of this statue, says that he must
of course admire what every body else admires, but
adds, " Though I own it between us, there's many a Venus
As much to my liking, and not made of stone."
I am willing to make the same admission; but those
" not made of stone" please me more for that very rea
son, and no other; for surely, such ease, such grace, such
softness, such incomparable symmetry, I have never be
held in any living Venus. This marble of Cleomenes
is in fact the very perfection of beauty, and he might
well have exclaimed on finishing his immortal labour, as
Anacreon did when he fancied the portrait of his mis
tress before him, " Enough! 'tis done! 'tis all I ask.
It lives, it breatlies, it soon will speak!"
The first feeling I experienced on beholding this piece
of sculpture, was one of disappointment; but this soon
gave way to a sentiment of a very difierent character,
and the longer I contemplated, the more I admired. It

IN THE NAVT. 35
has been objected to the Venus de Medicis that she is
not a goddess; but in what light do the ancient poets re
present her but that of a beautiful woman, fond of gaiety
and devoted to pleasure ? According to the showing of
her most devout worshippers, the only supremacy for
which she was fit, was that of being Queen in the Para
dise of Coquettes.
The room in which this statue is kept is called the
Tribune, and contains the choicest pieces in the Gallery
both in sculpture and painting. It is a small octagonal
saloon, only about twenty-one feet in diameter, but the
works collected within it would of themselves richly re
pay the trouble of a voyage across the Atlantic. Here
are the young Apollo, that model of graceful manly
beauty; the Scythian Spy, so true to nature and so full
of expression; the Wrestlers, conceived with so much
force and executed with equal felicity; and the Faun,
that breathing personification of lightness and gaiety.
All these are deservedly ranked among the master-pieces
of ancient sculpture. The last is supposed by many to
be from the chisel of Praxitles. The head and arms
have been restored by Michael Angelo in a style so like
the original that few would ever suspect that the whole
statue was not ancient
In the Tribune are also collected many of the chefs
d'ceuvres ofthe greatest masters in the art of painting —
Guercino, Michael Angelo, Domenichino, Andreo del
Sarto, Paul Veronese, Annibal Caraccio, Vandyke, Cor-
regio, Rubens, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, and last and
greatest of them all, Raphael. What a brilliant cata
logue of names! And the. productions brought together
in this sanctum sanctorum of the arts are sucli as fully
to sustain the high reputation they enjoy. Who could
satiate himself with gazing on such pictures as the two
Venuses of Titian, the Samian Sybil and Sleeping Endy
mion of Guercino, the Hercules between Vice and Vir
tue of Rubens, and the glorious portraits of Pope Julius
the Second and Fornarina of Raphael ? " We take no
note of time" in such a place. So at least it was with
me; for a considerable part of the day had stolen away

36 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
before I could tear myself from the enchantment of so
much beauty.
I paid several other visits to the Gallery, and gave a
passing glance to most of the curiosities and works of art
which it embraces, but had not time to examine many
of them with that attention which they deserved. Ma
dame de Stael says that a person might spend days in the
Gallery without understanding it: she might have said
weeks — such is the number of curious and precious
monuments collected within its walls. The Group of
Niobe and her Children was every way equal to my ex
pectation. The head of the Dying AJexander also me
rits all the praise that has been bestowed upon it. These
are among the very small number of those statues that
have survived the desolations of time, in which the an
cients have attempted to express strong emotions. They
generally limited their labours to the expression of the
more light an^ graceful sentiments of the heart; but
enough remains to show that they had equal power in
delineating those stormy and violent emotions, which
sometimes agitate the soul, and make it Uke the troubled
ocean " ^hen it cannot rest" In the group of the Niobe,
the mother is undoubtedly the most striking figure^-
that which is conceived and executed with: most force
and justness. Her form possesses a majesty and grace
which a goddess might envy ; and her attitude is natu
ral, dignified and commanding. But the highest merit
of the conception and execution does not consist in this.
The mingled expression of maternal tenderness and an
guish portrayed in her countenance, as she throws her
drappery around the little daughter who flies to her for
protection, and lifts her eyes to heaven, not in hope,
but in the vacant wildness of despair, is so true to na
ture that no one can behold her for the first time with
out an involuntary shudder — a feeling of deep and pain
ful sympathy in her sufferings. The other figures in
the group, though displaying great power and justness
of conception and great force and beauty of execution,
are all inferior to Niobe. I am afraid, indeed, that
the attitudes of most of them cannot plead exemption

IN THE NAVT. 37
from the charge of .being a little too stiff and theatrical ;
but the expression given to their countenances is inimi
table. Nothing could be more justly or happily con
ceived. From the suddenness of the onset, all power of
thought seems to be suspended, and a feeling of utter
consternation and involuntary reliance upon a mother's
protection, is the only one expressed. The difference
of expression in the mother and her daughters is most
just arid, striking. While her feelings are evidently not
less deep and heart-rending than theirs, she still pre
serves a majestic loftiness of mien and an instinctive
grandeur of sentiment in the midst of her bitterest griefs;
but they abandon themselves without reserve to all the
violent emotions which the suddenness and weight of
their calamity naturally inspire.
The collections of ancient and modern bronzes in the
gallery are very full, and contain some works of rare
value. The arrangement of the paintings according to
the schools to which they respectively belong is a very
happy one. It enables persons not much accustomed to
examine works of this kind soon to distinguish the great
characteristics of style which belong to each of the dif
ferent schools in this department of the fine arts. The
collection of gems and precious stones is above all price.
There is not probably such another in the world. The
specimens are exceedingly numerous, and many of them
invaluable, not less on account of the beauty with which
they are wrought, than of the richness of the materials
on which the artists have displayed their skill. There
are among them a vast number of entire figures, heads,
bas-reliefs and vases, wrought from gems and pietre
dure, many of them mounted in massy gold, enamelled,
and enriched with diamonds, pearls, garnets, and other
precious stones. Works in jasper, rock crystal, lapis-
lazuli, hyacinth, agate, sardonyx, amethyst, pearl, eme
rald, onyx, &c. meet the eye in whatever direction it is
turned. The apartment which contains this precious
collection is also not undeserving of note. If is a small
room in the form of a tribune, ornamented with four su
perb columns of Oriental alabaster and four of rock

38 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
crystal, each about seven feet in height. It is surround
ed by six small cabinets, which are supported by eight
beautiful little columns of agate of Sienna and eight of
rock crystal, embellished with garnets, topazes, &c. In
the centre of the apartment there is a table of pietre
dure, of exquisite workmanship, in which is represented
the Port of Leghorn.
I have already said that there are in the corridor six
distinct classes of works. These are busts of the Roman
Emperors and persons belonging to the Imperial family;
sarcophagi; statues; portraits of illustrious men; other
paintings in oil; and paintings in fresco over head.
Each series commences at the entrance, and the first ef
fect on entering and beholding such a confused assem
blage of objects, is amazement rather than delight. The
collection of Imperial busts is very extensive, and to a
person who has time to study them, is undoubtedly the
most interesting class of works which the gallery em
braces. Next in interest to the busts is the collection of
ancient and modern statues. Of the ancient statues, the
most beautiful are a Venus Genetrix, a Cupid, a Bac
chus leaning upon a Faun, a Love and Psyche, and a
young Mercury. At one extremity of the corridor there
is a copy of the Laocoon, executed by Baccio Bendi-
nelli. It is said to be an excellent one; but whatever
merit it may possess as ^ copy, it is certainly a fine
piece of sculpture. The paintings in the corridor are not
generally works of very high merit. They are arranged
chronologically with the design of showing the progress
of the art from its revival to the present day.
Before taking leave of the Gallery, I cannot but ex
press my gratification at the manner in which it is ma
naged. Men of talent and learning are employed by the
Government to show to strangers the various objects of
curiosity which it contains, and they are not allowed to
accept of the slightest gratuity for their services. It is
always open to artists, who are liberally furnished with
every facility, for making copies of whatever works
they please.

IN THE NAVT. 39
The palace of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, still call
ed, from the name of its original proprietor, the Pitti
palace, is a noble pile of the Tuscan or Rustic order.
Notwithstanding Bell's criticism on it, the effect of its
immense front, which is about five hundred feet in
length and three stories high, is, to me at least, exceed
ingly fine. It is true, as he states, that it is utterly des
titute of ornament, but its naked and majestic simplici
ty is above all ornament; and as to the objection which
he starts from its apparent want of support, what can be
more solid or firm than a wall composed of stones, every
one of which is more than twenty feet in length, and of
proportionate thickness and breadth ? It has but one
entrance in front, which leads to a spacious court yard
adorned with three beautiful fountains, a grotto and
numerous statues. The court exhibits three orders
of architecture, rising one above the other in the three
stories of the edifice. The columns are all in mezzo re
lievo. The lower order is Doric, the middle Ionic, and
the upper Corinthian. This union of orders does not add
to the beauty of the effect. The apartments in the pa
lace are very numerous, and all worthy of royalty. The
collection of paintings probably exceeds, both in the
number and value of the works which it embraces, that
of any other monarch in Europe, and is scarcely inferior
to that of the Imperial Gallery. I dare not trust myself
in attempting to give a particular description of any of
the chejs d'ceuvres in this vast collection, lest I should be
detained too long in a field so seductive; but will merely
say that almost every apartment is crowded with the works
of such masters as Raphael, Buonarroti, Titian, Guido,
Rubens, Vandyke, and a host of others, who, if some
what less distinguished than these, still challenge and re
ceive the admiration of all the votaries of the arts. The
Pitti palace is not very rich in sculpture, but it contains,
in a small room appropriated exclusively to her use, the
celebrated Venus bf Canova. This statue is of itself a
treasure. Though certainly in no way comparable to the
Venus de Medicis, it is nevertheless deservedly placed
among the first productions of the chisel in modern times.

40 . TWO TEARS AND A HALF
This palace of the Grand Duke occupies a distinguish
ed place in the annals of Florence. It owes its origin
to a sentiment of vanity. Filippo Strozzi having, near
the middle of the fifteenth century, completed a large
and costly palace, boasted that there was not its equal in
Florence. A rich private citizen, by the name of Luca
Pitti, having heard this boast, declared that there would
be one whose court yard alone would be as large as the
entire palace of Strozzi, and whose windows would equal
in size its largest door. The work was comm.enced in
1440, according to the design of Filippo di Ser Brunel-
lescho Lapi. The Pitti family having become reduced
in circumstances, Bonaccorso, great grandson of Luca,
found himself under the necessity of selling the palace,
which he did to Eleonora di Toledo, wife of Cosmo the
First, Duke of Florence. The Duchess caused a new
story to be added, and the edifice to he in other respects
ornamented and improved, under the superintendence
of Bartolommeo Ammannato. The plafonds of nearly
all the apartments are adorned with allegorical fresco
paintings, illustrating the exploits of the Medicean fami
ly. Cosmo removed from the Palazzo Medici to this of
Pitti; and it has ever since been the residence of the so
vereigns of Tuscany.
The Gardens of Boboli attached to the palace of the
Grand Duke are very extensive, and every way worthy
of the edifice to which they belong. A minute descrip
tion of them would of itself fill a long chapter. I can
only say that they are laid out in the purest taste, and
cannot fail to afford a rich treat to every lover of horti
cultural beauty.
The other palaces in Florence most deserving of at
tention, either on account of their architecture or the
works of art which they contain, are the Palazzi Vecchio,
Strozzi, Ricardi, Corsini and Mozzi. The palaces and
most of the other buildings of Florence look as if they
were made, as they actually were, for stormy times. The
windows in the lower stories are generally fortified with
iron grates, and higher up may be seen the little iron
rings from which the different parties that divided the

IN THE NAVT. 41
city used to display their respective standards. In the
desperate struggles for power between the families and
adherents of the Pazzi and the Medici, in the bloody
contests of the Guelph and Ghibelline factions, and in
the desolating civil wars to which Florence has so often
been a prey, it was necessary for the citizens to make
their houses not less places of defence than of residence ;
and hence the massive, gloomy and prisonJike appear
ance of many of the edifices which -adorn this noble
city. The square, called Piazza del Gran Duca, in front of
the Palazzo Vecchio, is one of the most glorious spots in
Florence. When it is said that it is adorned with colossal
statues, which sustain the high reputation of such sculp-
toi"s as Michael Angelo, Bendinelli, Ammannato and
John of Bologna, enough has been said to give the reader
some idea ofthe air of luxurious magnificence with which
it is invested.

The Academy of Fine Arts is an institution to which
Florence owes much of her fame. Here were educated
many of those great masters in the three arts of design —
painting, sculpture and architecture^ — whose works have
filled the measure of her glory. This Academy was so
much enlarged and so modified in the principles upon
which it is conducted by Leopold, that he may almost
be said to be its founder. It is an immense establish
ment, and affords every possible facility to the students
who resort there for instruction. It is provided with
professors of the highest talent and respectability. The
President, Benvenuti, stands at the head of living his
torical painters in Italy. The Academy contains a large
collection of copies in chalk of ancient and modern statues
and bas-reliefs. It contains also a rich assemblage of
cartoons ofthe most celebrated artists, among which may
be distinguished many of Michael Angelo, Raphael, &c.
Besides the numerous apartments occupied by the stu
dents, there is a hall filled with the original pieces which
have obtained premiums at the triennial Concorsi, and
VOL. IL 5

42 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
another containing models of all the most perfect designs
in architecture. There is also., a gallery of pictures, next
to the collections in the Imperial Gallery and the Pitti
Palace, the most extensive and valuable in Florence.
The paintings here, like those in the Corridor of the
Gallery, are arranged chronologically, so that commenc
ing at the revivalof the art by Cimabue, you may trace
its progress through all the successive stages of improve
ment and retrogradation down to the present moment.

The Museum of Natural History presents a rich field
to the philosopher and the man of science. It is complete
in all its departments — zoology, mineralogy, botany, &c.
But what makes it an object of peculiar interest and
curiosity is the vast collection it contains of anatomi
cal preparations in wax. There are, if I am not mis
taken, eighteen apartments filled with these preparations.
The perfection with which they imitate nature cannot
fail to astonish every beholder. They are not, however,
quite so public as I expected to find them. "The awful
region of the anatomical preparations," says Forsythe,
" which should be sacred to men of science, is open to
all ; and the very apartment where the gravid uterus and
its processes lie unveiled, is a favourite lounge of the
ladies, who criticise aloud all the mysteries of the sex."
Credat Judseus, non ego. I will not believe that the
fair Florentines are so utterly destitute of delicacy, nor
that the gentlemen, who have the control of this establish
ment are so regardless of what is due to decency. There
were a few ladies in some of the other anatomical apart
ments, but from this they were carefully excluded. The
door was kept locked, and when I entered, it was imme
diately fastened upon me again. Other gentlemen, I
observed, were treated in the same way, and when any
one wished to retire, he was obliged to rap for the keeper
to come and let him out.

IN THE NAVT. 43
The churches in Florence are very numerous, and the
merit of their architecture ranges through all the degrees
of the architectural thermometer. Many of them also
possess a strong extraneous interest from the memory of
important events which have occurred within them, or
from other interesting circumstances associated with their
history. The Duomo is the largest church in Florence,
being in every respect of about the same dimensions with
that of St. Peter's in Rome. It is supposed or proved
by the Florentine antiquaries to stand upon a part of the
Campus Martins of the ancient Etrurians. Its prodi
gious dimensions, being above five hundred and fifty feet
in length and more than one hundred and fifty in breadth,
produce, especially when seen by moonlight in the still
serenity of evening, an effect ofthe most solemn, elevated
and pleasing character. It is, however, to be regretted
that the greatness of the effect is in part destroyed by the
finical intermixture of black, red, green and white mar
bles, with which the stupendous pile is incrusted. The
first view of the interior depends for its effect almost ex
clusively on its vastness, as the minute decorations do
not attract any portion of the spectator's attention. The
windows are few, and the effect of the feeble light admit
ted through coloured glass, is apparently to increase the
natural proportions of the building to an indefinite great
ness. This happy union of vastness and obscurity, aided
by the profound silence which generally reigns there, is
well fitted to excite those sentiments of solemnity and
awe with which the Deity ought always to be approach
ed. It is scarcely possible to conceive, without having
felt it, the effect which all these circumstances combined
produce upon the mind. They subdue the feelings ; they
elevate the soul ; they fill the imagination ; they almost
make you afraid to speak, lest the charm should thereby
be dissolved, and the rich feast upon which the mind is
feeding be annihilated with. it.
The dome of this Cathedral is only seven feet less in
height, and about twenty in the diameter of its base, than
that of St. Peter's. It is an octagon instead of a circle,
a circumstance which detracts somewhat from the unity

44 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
and beauty of its effect It was designed by the illustrious
Brunellesco, but he died before it was completed. " It
was, however, finished according to Jiis original plan.
Its height, from the pavement of the choir to the cross
that forms the summit, is two hundred and two braccia.
Few views can surpass in riphness and interest that en
joyed by a spectator on this dome. It embraces the en
tire city of Florence, with its massive palaces, its marble
. churches and its magnificent public squares; the Calcine,
with its shade trees, its lawns and its fountains ; the Gar
dens oi Boboli ; the winding Arno, with its undulating
valley, sprinkled with villages and covered with olive
groves and vineyards ; and finally, the distant heights of
Fiesole, Vallombrosa and other vine-clad hills. What an
enchanting assemblage of objects! and how rich and va
ried the associations to which they give rise!
Near one of the angles of this Cathedral stands that
beautiful Campanile, which Charles the Fifth said ought
to be enclosed in a case, on account of the airy elegance
and grace of its architecture.
Nearly in front of the Duomo, and only a few paces
distant from it, is the Baptistry, a large octagonal build
ing, interesting chiefly for those two bronze doors, the
work of Lorenzo Ghiberti, which Michael Angelo said
ought to be placed at the gates of Paradise. On examin
ing these exquisite productions, Corinna — that admirable
conception, in which the aspirations of genius, the long
ings of ambition, the fire of enthusiasm, and the power
of suffering are so firmly delineated.-.^is made to exclaim,
" What patience ! What respect for posterity! Yet how
few piersons examine with attention these gates, before
which the crowd passes with distraction, with ignorance,
or with contempt Oh! how difficult it is for man to
avoid oblivion! and how powerful, on the other hand,
is the empire of death !"
No one who visits Florence will fail to visit also,
while he is there, the Church of St. Lorenzo. It is a
fine specimen of architecture of the Corinthian order,
designed by Brunellesco; but its highest interest arises
from the circumstance tliat it contains the master pro-

In THE NAVT. 45
ductions of Buonarroti in sculpture, and also that in tbe
Canonica attached to it is the famous Laurentian Li
brary. Of the latter I shall speak hereafter: the former
are in the New Sacristy, otherwise called La Capella
dei Depositi. In this chapel there are no less than
seven statues of that great master, who excelled all other
artists in painting and architecture, and himself in sculp
ture. These are Lorenzo and Julian de Medicis, Day
and Night, Morning and Twilight, and a Madonna with
the Infant Jesus. Though ^veral of these are left unfi
nished, one may still see in tnem all the power, sublimity
and beauty of his genius. The Lorenzo is the sublimest
conception that was ever eanbodied. That of the Apollo
Belvidere may have more majesty; — more forcible it
cannot be* The Duke i^ represented in the act of medi
tating ^vengeance for the assassination of his brother
Julian. - His left elbow rests upon his knee, and he is
leaning his chin upon his left hand. His helmet is
thrown up from iis face, and reveals a countenance, in
which the worliSgs of a soul profoundly agitated, and
the vast power of a superior intellect, when all its ener
gies are concentratea, are expressed with an accuracy
and force which selji rivalry at dpfiance. It is the tri
umph of genius in the delineation of passion and thought.
This statue has justly been denominated // Pensiero.
The Thought — of Michael Angelo. The outlines of the
Madonna is only roughly chiselled, but the Bambino —
which she holds in her arms,- is finished in a style which
shows that the genius of Buonarroti was as elegant as it
was sublime. It expresses with inimitable effect the
sweetness, purity, delicacy, and all the lovely graces of
infancy. The church of Santa Croce, although the last which
I shall notice particularly, was not the last that attracted
my attention. It is the most interesting of all the
churches of Florence, on account of the brilliant assem
blage of dead, entombed within its walls; — an assem
blage surpassed by no other in the world, and equalled
by none, except perhaps that in Westmintej' Abbey. It
was in walking through this church, an^|^i^fcularf*in

46 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
contemplating the tomb of Michael Angelo, that. Alfieri
first felt the desire of glory, and resolved to enter the
lists as a competitor for a fame, which shpuld inscribe
his name among the most brilliant of those to whose
memories he beheld so many splendid mausoleums. It
was a bold design, but the result showed that he did not
over-rate his genius. His own sepulchre now occupies
a place between those of Buonarroti and Machiavelli,
company to which the vast powers of intellect displayed
in his works fully entitle bin. There can be no ques
tion that the monuments reared to the memory of the
illustrious dead are calculated to inspire the living with
a desire of emulating their virtues and rivalling their
celebrity. It was in conforinity with this belief that
Rome lined the Appian Way with tbe tombs of her
most distinguished citizens.
Near the entrance of- this church are the monuments

of Michael Angelo and Galileo (the one on your right and
"1 ^fiie
interest which they excite, but diffanng widely in the

the other on your left,) each equal ^the other in the

merit of their execution. Galileo ,was born the day
Michael Angelo died, and died t\fe day Sir Isaac New
ton was born, a succession of births, equally singular and
interesting. This venerable philosopher, fojr the subUme
discoveries which he had made and published to the
world, was for many years confined to the dungeons of
the Vatican, and was finally released from his imprison
ment on the humiliating condition that he should abjure
upon his knees the system he had taught, solemnly pro
testing before Heaven that he believed its tendency was
to subvert social order, to propagate pernicious heresies,
and to disseminate principles repudiated by a sound phi
losophy. Who can figure to himself the grey-haired
old man, in the presence of mitred ignorance and
bigotry, voluntarily submitting to this perjured act of
self-abasement for the sake of adding a few miserable
years to his existence, without.a feeling of mortification
at the infirmities, which cling even to the loftiest natures?
But had he, on the contrary, suffered as a martyr to his
philosophy, aad mounted the scaffold, or been bound to

IN THE NAVT. 47
the stake, declaring his firm conviction of the truth of all
his doctrines, and uttering the bold prediction that their
triumph wo^ld one day be complete and universal, it
would have afforded one of the sublimest moral specta
cles the world ever beheld. Galileo returned to his own
Florence, but not to pass the remnant of his days there
in quietude and happiness. He was banished through
the influence of the Medicean family. The Medici, it is
true, patronized the arts and embellished their native
city with palaces, statues, and pictures, but time can
never obliterate the memory of their ungenerous con
duct towards the father of modern astronomy, nor wash
out the stain which it has left upon their reputation.
But exile could not alienate his affections from the land
that had given him birth. Like Demosthenes banished
to the island of Poros, who still sighed for the air of his
native Athens, he cast his last look towards the city of
his idolatry — the Athens of modern times — and expired.
The world has since united to do homage to his memory,
but he, to whom this tribute woujd have been sweet, had
it been paid when justly due, no longer lives to enjoy
it. The voice of fame, though borne upon the four
winds to every corner of the globe, is too feeble to pene
trate the marble which enshrines the ashes of him, who
was rewarded with imprisonment and exile fgr the dis
covery of the most glorious truths, and who died in sad
ness and disgrace, after having devoted a long life to the
service of mankind.
Machiavelli, Leonardo Aretino, Filicaja, the Countess
of Albany, and many other distinguished personages have
also been buried in this church. There is a monument
to the memory of Dante, notwithstanding the inhabitants
of the little town where he died in exile, though long
and earnestly solicited to do so, have hitherto refused to
give up his remains. ^ Eustace might have spared his
illiberal sneer at the memory of Boccaccio, as his " im
pure dust". has never polluted this illustrious burial-place.
I am not aboiit to write a defence of the Decameron, for
no man can deplore more sincerely than I do its immo
ral character; but this licentiousness is, in my opinion.

48 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
less chargeable to'the individual depravity ofthe author,
than to that of the age in which he wrote. Nothing
could render this more certain to my mind than the very
design of the work, as set forth by Boccaccio himself in
the preface; which was to furnish amusement to ladies in
their idle hours. But Boccaccio has other claims to our
respect. It is to him that we are mainly indebted for
the cultivation in modern times of the ancient Greek
literature. On this subject I quote the language of a dis
tinguished Italian historian — Carlo Botta. "But," says
he, " as a reformer of the ag^ singular gratitude is due
to him for having discovered various Greek manuscripts,
and for haying called the attention of his countrymen to
the language and literature of Greece. He it is who,
tearing in sunder the veil of ignorance, caused to shine
upon our astonished eyes the beautiful forms of that
nation, the generous and beneficent teacher of the human
race. -* * * * The true benefactors of the human
species are Dante, Petrarch, and Boccaccio."
Highly as Florence js distinguished for the works of
art which adorn its galleries, palaces and public places,
it is scacely less so for the number and value of its pub-
•lic libraries. The principal of these are the Maglibe-
chian, the Ricardian and the Laurentian. The first is
the most extensive, comprising one hundred and eighty
thousand printed volumes, and ten thousand in manu
script. In such a vast collection of books there must of
course be a great deal of trash, but intermixed with this
is most thatis valuable in all the languages of ancient
and modern times. Besides many manuscripts of ines
timable worth, this library boasts the possession of the
first book that was ever printed. It is a theological trea
tise ,by one William Durante, entitled Rationalia Bi-
vini Officii, and was printed by Faust himself in 1459.
The typographical execution has not of course any of
the neatness of modern printing, but it is far less rude
than I should have expected to finfi it.
The Ricardian Library is kept in the Palazzo Ri
cardi, and contains twenty-five thousand printed, and
three thousand five hundred manuscript volumes. Al-

IN THE NAVT. 49
though its proprietor is a private gentleman, he generous
ly permits the public to enjoy the benefit of using it
three days in the week. In the collection of manu
scripts, those of greatest rarity and value are a copy of
Pliny's Natural History, of the ninth century, a Pausa-
nius and a Dante of the thirteenth, and a Virgil of the fif
teenth. The Laurentian Library is kept in a large hall in the
Canonica ofthe church of S. Lorenzo. It consists ex
clusively of manuscripts. This collection was com
menced bj' Lorenzo the Magnificent, and has since been
so enriched by his descendants, that it is now the most
rare and precious, to be met with in any part of the
world. The whole number of works amounts to nine
thousand. Among them I had the pleasure of seeing the
famous copy of the Virgil of the third century, so many
times lost and recovered, but now, it is to be hoped, re
stored never again to be removed ; and that, scarcely
less celebrated, ofthe Pandects of Justinian, made dur
ing the reign of that Emperor. These are both kept in
small mahogany cases, with glass lids, and no one is ever
allowed to touch them. This library is enriched with
various copies of the Bible in Greek, Latin, and Hebrew,
a Geography, of the fourteenth century, according to the
system of Ptolemy, a Dante of the fourteenth' century,
&c. Original copies of many of the letters of Petrarch,
of the Decameron of Boccaccio, and of the Tragedies of
Alfieri, will not, by the intelligent visiter, be regarded as
among the least valuable and curious parts of the collec
tion. All these works are chained to the benches on
which they stand. Their fetters at first strike one un
pleasantly, as they seem to indicate an illiberal spirit on
the part ofthe Government; but the precaution is easily
forgiven, when it is considered how many times this hall
has been rifled of some of its most precious deposits.
The illuminations of many of the manuscripts in this
collection are most splendid, and. the penmanship can
scarcely be distinguished from copper-plate. Among
the curiosities in this hall, I should not omit to mention
the forefinger of the right hand of Galileo, piously pre
served in a small glass case.

50 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
In enumerating the li-braries of Florence, that of the
Grand Duke of Tuscany in the Pitti Palace, ought not
to be passed over in silence. It is a collection consist
ing, of fifty-four thousand printed volumes, besides.about
fifteen hundred in manuscript.

The last place I visited in Florence, is one which I
would not have missed of seeing for the worlds— the
house of Michael Angelo. It has only four apartments
besides the vestibule, all of which are numbered and
named. The first, called la Galleria, contains twenty*-
five oil and six chiaro scuro paintings, each of which
represents some chapter in his life, or some quality of his
genius. On the side of the room facing the street, is a
statue ofthe artist, said to be an excellent likeness, with
two others, emblematical of his character, representing
Life in the two states, of contemplation and activity.
The second apartment was his bed chamber, and is known
by the name of la stanza di giorno e di notte. It is
adorned with family paintings in oil and fregco, and
hung with cartoons that display all the force and origi
nality of the genius of their author. The third room is
denominated la stanza degli .Rngioli, and was used as
a chapel. Its walls are hung with portraits of all the
Saints and Beati of Florence. 'What it contains of
greatest value are two beautifully executed Madonnas in
bass-relief, one of marble and the other of bronze, by
Michael Angelo. But the last and most interesting of
all the apartments is Ip studio, wliere, questionless, many
of those gigantic and glorious conceptions were origi
nated, which have gained for their author an immortality,
such as no other human being has ever enjoyed. This
room is decorated with portraits of all the distinguish^^
men that Florence has produced, who seem assembled
there to do homage to the name of him who excelled
thiem all. Here are preserved two plain walking-sticks
which he used in his old age, together with many of the
implements and materials — such as brushes, chisels, oils,
&c. — with which he laboured in his several professions.

IN THE NAVT. 51
On the evening of the thirtieth of July, I bade a reluc
tant adieu to Florence, having remained there only four
days, a period sufficient, indeed, to enable me to get a
general idea of the place, and to examine hastily *the
elite of the works of art with which it is embellished,
but not long enough to satisfy either the eye or the
mind. Those who travel on board of a man of war must
often be content to see things as they can — not as they
would. I arrived in Leghorn on the following morning,
without any occurrences by the way worthy of note,
except some impositions practised upon me by the buona
.. manu gentry — that "thorn in the flesh" to all who tra
vel in Italy.
On my arrival in Leghorn, my mind was so full of
Florence and its glorious monuments, that I felt little
curiosity to see it. Indeed, there is little to be seen
there. When the stranger has visited the tombs of To
bias Smollet and Francis Horner in the English Ceme
tery, and examined the four African slaves on the Dar-
sena by Pietro Tacca, c'est fini. Leghorn is a busy,
bustling, commercial place, with few attractions for the
man of t^ste or pleasure. Sea-bathing and alabaster
ornaments may be had there in any quantities.

( 52 )

CHAPTER III.

Dr. Clarke has well and truly observed that " the
consciousness to a traveller of the many interesting things
he cannot see, often counterbalances the satisfaction de
rived from the views of objects he has been permitted to
contemplate." Every one who has ever travelled much,
must frequently have been sensible of this feeling. 'We
had bitter experience of it in our cruise on the coast of
Italy. It was the expectation of all on board to proceed
from Leghorn to Civita Vecchia, a seaport in the Ro
magna near the mouth of the Tiber, whence we should
have had an opportunity of visiting the Eternal City ; but
our money — that glittering dross so essential in travel-
ling-T-gave out. The captain tried to negotiate a bill of
exchange, but could not do so on such terms as he felt
authorized to propose. The consequence was that, in
stead of getting under weigh for the Roman port, we
sailed on the fifth of August for Naples, where we arrived
five days afterwards. We were one day becalmed be
tween the islands of Corsica and Elba, places whose ex
ternal scenery had no particular^ attractions, as far as we
saw it, but which it was impossible to behold without a
strong interest^^an interest for which they were indebted
to the genius and misfortune of Napoleon.
We entered the Bay of Naples about dusk with a light
breeze, which soon died away to a dead calm, and'we
were obliged to get out our boats and tow. Our first
view of Naples and its enchanting Bay, it will thus be
seen, was by night ; and the effect was probably finer-
than it would have been by day, owing to the play which
obscurity gave to the imagination. The city stands near
the head of the Bay, on your left as you proceed up it
The Chiaia, or Royal Gardens, extending for a conside
rable distance along the coast, and not distinguishable at

TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 53
that hour from the rest of the city, gave it the appear
ance of being illuminated as on jome gala occasion.
Vesuvius was before us, towering in dark and solemn
grandeur, and throwing up at short intervals shedts of
flame and volumes of smoke. The firmament, with its
countless stars reflected from the glassy mirror beneath
us, looked like the inner surface of a vast hollow globe,
set with thousands of the purest brilliants. The city,
the volcano, the romantic scenery -of" the Bay, dimly
seen by the rays of the crescent moon, the serene bril
liancy of the heavens, the stillness ofthe water, the silence
of the hour, unbroken except by the regular plashing of
the oars and a few mellowed sounds that reached us from
the shore, — all contributed to render the scene solemn,
sublime and impressive". But if the view by night was
glorious, that which the following morning revealed to
our eyes, was not less so. The Bay of Naples has long
been celebrated for its beauty, but the reader must have
seen so many descriptions of it, that I may be spared the
trouble of adding another to the number. " Some of its
principal and most captivating features are its majestic
and semicircular sweep, the islands of Ischia and Capri
at its entrance, Vesuvius, and the beautiful capital which
sits like a queen upon a portion of its coast.

We were twice at Naples, having returned there a
second time in the month of September following, for
the purpose of carrying Major Lee and his lady to that
city. The whole time that we spent there, including ten
days of quarantine, was nearly two months. Without
designing to give any thing like a full description of the
city or its curiosities, and without any particular refer
ence to dates, I shall merely throw out a few cursory
remarks, the partial result of my observations at both
these visits.
Naples contains nearly half a million of inhabitants.
In size and population it is the third city of Christian
Europe. . In some respects it has stronger claims to the
attention of the intelligent traveller than any other in
VOL. II. 6

54 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Italy. Inferior to Florence in works of art, to Rome in
the grandeur of its ancient remains, and to Genoa and
Venice in the number and richness of its palaces, it is
more interesting than either of them on account of its
vast collection of those antiquities, which give an insight
into the manners, domestic economy and private charac
ter of the ancients.
A gentleman in Florence, in drawing a comparison be
tween his own city and that of Naples, said to me, Fi-
renze starebbe bene a Napoli. No one who has seen
both these places can fail to acknowledge the . truth of
this remark. Naples enjoys the advantage of a finer
situation and a finer climate than Florence, but in every
thing else, in its churches, palaces, public squares, foun
tains, promenades, &c., it is certahily inferior to that city.
Its streets are generally narrow, winding and filthy; and its
houses, though usually much higher and not less solid,have
^ |ess majestic appearance. Every window in the city has
an iron balcony in front of it. But Naples is far from
being a mean Ipoking city. La Strada Toledo, Santa
Lucia, the Chiaia, and the delicious promenade along
the coast called Mergellina, are enough to entitle any
city to the epithet of m,agnificent. The coup d'ceil
presented by Toledo street is indeed one of the finest
and most stirring that can be imagined. Two continuous
streams of carriages are constantly passing in opposite
directions, while the crowds of pedestrians are like two
strong currents struggling against each other, and form
ing by their opposite action innumerable eddies. The
buildings too on this street are more stately than in any
other part of the city, and the pavement is almost as
smooth as that of a church, being composed of huge
blocks of lava, cut in the shape of diamonds. It has more
of the busy, bustling, tumultuous appearance, which the
principal street of a large metropolis ought to present;
than any other I have ever seen. The Neapolitans talk
louder than any other people in the world. This is no
doubt in part to be attributed to the necessity of speak
ing very loud'in the streets in order to make themselves
heard. The habit of loud conversation, thus acquired.

IN THE NAVT. 55
is carried out in all their intercourse with each other.
Every bargain made by a shopkeeper with a customer
you would think was a pitched battle between them.
They are remarkable too for their gesticulation. The
ancient Romans could scarcely have outdone them in this
respect. ^ If a Neapolitan wishes to tell his neighbour
he is a jackass, he has only to shut his hands, cross his
wrists, and stick up his thumbs, and the business is done.
So extensive is their language of signs, that an intelli
gent ecclesiastic, the superintendent of the public library
in the Studii, informed me he was engaged in the com
position of a dictionary of them.
But not only does the Strada Toledo exhibit the lively
aspect above described ; — every part of the city has the
appearance of a gay, luxurious, busy capital. All the
public places are filled with carriages, and you cannot
step out cf doors without having the cry of — volete car-
rozza? volete carrozza? volete carrozza? — rung in
your ears from a score of discordant voices. If you make
a bargain before hand, you can generally procure a coach
on the most reasonable terms ; but if you omit this pre
caution, no matter how liberally you reward the coach
man, it is ten to one that he does not, on receiving the
money you offer him, give you a look of ineffable sur
prise, and exclaim, questo mi date ? miserabile, sig
nore!* A Neapolitan related to me a pleasant anecdote,
in illustration of this trait in the character of this class of
his countrymen. A young Englishman, fresh from the
straight forward honesty of his own country, arrived in
Naples and took lodgings in the same house with an old
acquaintance of his, who had been some time in Italy.
The next morning the new-comer had occasion for a car
riage to go about half a mile. " Now," said his friend,
« I'll bet you five pounds that if you offer that fellow
a crown when you get out of the coach, he '11 grumble
at your illiberality." The wager was accepted and lost
But whether you arrange the price you are to pay to
these coachmen or not previous to employing them, after
• what! do you give me only this pittance ?

56 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
you have paid them all you intend to, and all they de
mand in the way oipay, they will still beg a gratuity of
you to drink your health. This disposition to get"as
much out of you as possible, is observable in all the shop-
dealing in Italy ; but I remarked it more in Naples than
any where else. Forsythe has said truly that Italian
shopkeepers reckon only downwards. "You go to one
¦of them and demand the price of an article. He tells you
the last price is twenty dollars.— You reply that you
can't give him half of it. — " You may have it for
eighteen." — "No." — "Well, what will you give?" —
" Eight dollars." — " Impossible to sell for that ; but let
us say sixteen." — " No, I'll give you ten, a^d not one
farthing more."^ — " Fifteen is a fair price ; take it at
that." — At length you find that you have Jio chance of
bringing him to your price while you remain, and you
start off. He lets you go till you get nearly out of hear
ing, and then closes the farce by bawling out to you,
E^! Signor, prendetelo a died — [" take it, sir, at ten
dollars."]

The otlfer places which I mentioned as forming the
distinctive features of Naples, and entitling it to the epi
thet of a magnificent city, — viz. S. Lucia, the Chiaia,
commonly called the Villa Reale, and the Mergellina, —
all lie along the margin of the Bay. The Royal Villa,
though not comparable to the Cascine at Florence in aiiy
thing except the sculpture which adorns it, is neverthe
less a delightful place. Its situation is the most enchant
ing that could be imagined, being at the foot of Pausilipo,
and on the bank of the most beautiful bay in the world.
A band of music is stationed there every Sunday even
ing for the diversion of the gay crowds who resort there
to amuselhemselves. The Sabbath in Catholic countries
is the great day for amusements, and hence the public
walks, the theatres, and all the resorts of fashion, gaiety
and frivolity are on that day filled to overflowing.

IN THE NAVT. 57
Not far beyond the Royal Gardens is the entrance to
the Grotto of Pausilipo, cut through the hill of the same
name. Whether this grotto was excavated for the pur
pose of obtaining building materials, or in honour of some
ancient divinity, or, as is perhaps more probable, to faci
litate the communication between Naples and Puteoli, is
a question which I leave to professed antiquarians. The
grotto is nearly a third of a mile in length, about forty
feet in height, and wide enough for two carriages to
pass each other without inconvenience. There is an
aperture near the centre, but it does not let in light
enough' to render lamps unnecessary. I rode through
it, but I found it so damp and dark and disagreeable that
I was glad to issue forth again into the fresh air. ^
Pausilipo is a Greek term signifying repose from sad
ness, and is happily applied to this hill as descriptive of
its delightful situation and enchanting scenery. On its
slope, and overlooking the mpst beautiful water scenery
in the world, Lucullus and other rich Romans erected
villas, in the decoration of which opulence lavished her
resources, and art exhausted Jier ingenuity.
Not far from the Grotto of Pausilipo is a |pot which
has attracted the homage of the world, and which has
occasioned more raptures, feigned or felt, than any other
on the globe, — the Tomb of Virgil. It stands in the
midst of a vineyard, about an eighth of a mile from the
beach. Nothing remains at present but a small square
building, flat-roofed, but vaulted within, with two mo
dern windows. It is entirely destitute of ornaments of
every kind. On a marble slab in an adjoining wall are
the two lines commonly considered apocryphal:
"Mantua me genuit, Calabri rapudre, tenet nunc
Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces."
I shall not here repeat the arguments pro and con in
regard to the question whether this be the real sepulchre
of Virgil or not, but will merely state that my own
opinion, from all I have read on the question, inclines to
those who maintain the affirmative. Those who have
leisure and inclination to look into this subject, may con
6*

58 TWO TEARS AND A HALF ' '
suit Cluverius, Eustace, Forsythe, &c. But whether
this be the real tomb or not, it is just such a place
as Virgil ought to have been buried in ; — in the midst
of such scenes as we may suppose he loved to contem
plate, — scenes from which his kindling spirit drank in
the true inspirations of poetry, and gathered strength for
its glorious flights. Petrarch planted a laurel over the
tomb of Virgil, the most appropriate honour he could
have rendered to the shade of the poet of his idolatry;
but, thanks to the unprincipled rapacity of visiters, not
a trace of it now remains. But an aged ilex still over
shadows the tomb, a luxuriant mantle of ivy covers its
walls, and green scented shrubbery perfumes the breezes
that sigh over the ashes of the Mantuan Swain.
I looked into most of the churches of Naples, but they
are generally finished in worse taste than those in any
other part of Italy. Gold leaf has been stuck on wher
ever there was a surface to receive it, and ornaments of
this and every other description are crowded together
with little regard to purity of design or harmony of ef
fect Some of them, however, contain works in sculp
ture and painting of great merit. The little chapel of
S. Severe, owned by the Sangro family, boasts three of
the rarest and most valuable statues in Naples. The first
that meets your eye on entering is Vice Undeceived — a
most singular production. Vice is represented under the
figure of a man caught in a net, which he has broken,
and from which, aided by the Genius of Good Sense,
who stands by his side, he is struggling to extricate him
self. The man and net are both carved from one block
of marble, but the net is so fine that it is impossible to
conceive how it could ever have been done. The pa
tience with which the artist must have laboured is really
astonishing. He was seven yeai-s in completing his work.
This statue is chiefly remarkable for the originality of
the design and the difficulty of the execution.
Nearly opposite this is another of a very different
character, and of much higher merit It is a represen
tation of Modesty under the emblem of a very beautiful
woman, covered with a light veil. The illusion of the

IN THE NAVT. 59
veil is perfect. You seem to behold the form and fea
tures of the lady through the thinnest gauze imaginable,
and you cannot but be charmed with the sweet and soft
ened and retiring expression, which the sculptor has
imparted to the marble, and which appears to be half
concealed by the airy robe in which he has clotlied his
highly poetical conception.
But the master-piece of this chapel is a Dead Christ
upon a cushion, with a crown of thorns lying at his feet.
It is a work of the same class with that just described,
designed by the same artist, Corradino, but finished af
ter his death by Giuseppe San Martino. The form and
features, though human, are such as you might suppose
ennobled by the residence of Divinity within ; and the
knowledge of anatomy displayed in the whole statue,
but especially in the feet, is scarcely inferior to that ex
hibited in the works of Michael Angelo. Like Modes
ty, the Saviour is robed in a light veil, and the expres
sion still lingering upon his countenance, so sweet, so
tranquil and so dignified, is that which you feel to be
most appropriate to the Son of God, sleeping the sleep
of death. I could easily forgive the devotion of a sim
ple-hearted peasant, who entered the church while I
was there, and kneeling kissed this beautiful image of
his Master.
Canova was so charmed with this statue that he offer
ed for it to the present representative of the Sangro fa
mily — a family once very opulent but now in reduced
circumstances — the weight of the whole mass in silver.
The king, however, uttered his veto, and the poor man
was obliged to keep his statue, and go without bread.
What could the Sultan have done more? The despot was
proud to have such a piece of sculpture in his capital,
and yet unwilling to pay for it.
Between the churches of this country and those of Ita
ly there is of course no comparison. There they are
palaces in which every manner of decoration is lavished
without regard to expense, and often with as little re
gard to good taste. The riches of the clergy, particularly
in Naples, are beyond those of royalty itself, and it is

60 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
only in the erection of costly and magnificent temples
that they can m^ke a display of these immense trea
sures. But to what purpose all this ostentation? To me,
be it prejudice or be it reason, the temples of my own be
loved land, in their unadorned simplicity, appea" more
appropriate to the worship of the heart-searching God,
than those splendid edifices consecrated to his service in
Catholic countries, in whose erectien and decoration
millions have been expended. We have at least the sa
tisfaction to know that our churches are in no case built
upon the oppression of the people, while it is equally
certain that a considerable portion of the money that pur
chases the gold, the frescoes and the marbles, which
adorn the temples of Italy, is forced from the pocket of
the poor man, who esteems himself happy if the sweat of
his brow can procure for himself and his family coarse
fare, coarse raiment, and a miserable hovel to shelter
them from the summer's heat and the winter's cold.

There are numerous convents in Naples. Some of
them are rich, and some supported by charity, but all
occupy the most delightful situations in the city. I dined
one day at a convent of long-bearded Capuchins. For
my invitation I was indebted to a visit I paid there in
company with Luigi Firrao and Luigi Marinese, two
Roman gentlemen attached to the Papal Court, with
whom I accidentally became acquainted on board of our
ship. I spent much of my time with them during our
stay in Naples, and found them two of the most accom
plished gentlemen that I met with during my absence.
One of them particularly spoke
 " tlie Tuscan Syren tongue.
That music in itself, whose sounds are song,"
with a purity, a sweetness, and an elegance, which made
me think there was some propriety in the old adage,
Lingua Toscana in bocca Romana. One who has
never heard the Italian well spoken by natives, can form
no idea of the effect produced by its rich and silver tones.
I have sometimes found myself obliged to ask for the

IN THE NAVT. 61
repetition of a sentence, not because it was not perfectly
intelligible, but because, charmed with its music, I had
neglected to attend to its meaning.
We dined at twelve o'clock, for as the monks have
forsaken the world, they must of course despise its fa
shions. Dinner was served in a small oblong cell, fur
nished in the plainest manner. The table was covered
with a very coarse linen cloth, perfectly white, and the
napkins were of the same material. It was served exclu
sively by younger monks, who showed the utmost defe
rence and respect for their superiors. The dinner was
plain, but so unmercifully abundant that, being obliged
to eat a little of each course, I was stuffed like a sau
sage. I made an apology for retiring soon after dinner,
and bid them adieu, protesting in my heart against ever
dining with monks again. Yet I never was treated with
a hospitality and politeness which appeared to proceed
more directly from the heart than theirs. The excess of
their attentions was the only thing of which I had any rea
son to complain. They gave me a pressing invitation to
make their convent my home during my stay in Naples.
A few days after, I had a visit from my monkish
friends on board the ship. None of them had been on
board of a man of war before, and they seemed perfectly
amazed and delighted with the neatness and order pre
vailing there. Noticing a book on each of the mess-
chests on the berth deck, one of them asked me what
books those were? I told him they were Bibles. " And
do your sailors all know how to read?" he inquired with
a good deal of apparent surprise. " Nearly all of them,"
I replied. Che piacere! he exclaimed, turning to his
cornpanions, ma in Napoli non e cosi.*

Few of the palaces of Naples ever attract the attention
of strangers. The only one I thought it worth while to
visit was that of the king. This I did in company with
the surgeon and purser of our ship. A ticket of admis-
• How delightful! but in Naples it is not so,"

62 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
sion, signed by the king's steward, is generally re
quired, but a dollar slipped into the hand of the servant
enabled us to dispense with that formality. As the
royal family was absent, we were admitted into all the
apartments, not excepting the bed chambers of the king
and queen, and of the princes and princesses. They are
finished with an elegance and splendour, such as we may
suppose royalty loves to contemplate. The saloon con
taining the throne, though less glittering and gorgeous
than that in the Serra palace at Genoa, is in a style of
rich simplicity, to me far more agreeable. The throne
itself is as splendid as gold and the costliest of silk-da
mask and velvet can make it
The collection of paintings in this palace, in propor
tion to its extent, is the choicest in Naples. Among
the artists by whose works it is enriched, are Raphael,
Annibal Caracci, M. Angelo da Caravaggio, and the
Chevalier Camuccini. The two most striking pieces are
by the, last mentioned author. The subjects are the
death of Caesar and the death of Virginia. They are
paintings which speak to the heart The Csesar is a
glorious conception, finely embodied. The painter has
chosen the moment when " burst his mighty soul" at the
discovery that Brutus was among the conspirators; and
the surprise and horror which that discovery occasions,
seem indeed to "vanquish him."
The chapel in this palace is much celebrated for the
richness of its ornaments, but as there is no dearth of
such things in Italy, we merely glanced into it, and
passed on to what we felt more curiosity to see, — the
royal stables. These are the most interesting part of the
whole establishment. They gave shelter to five hun
dred of the finest steeds in the kingdom, consisting of
not less than a score of different breeds, each of which
had a particular part of the stable appropriated to itself.
A long hall was filled with the most costly and glitter
ing caparisons, and many of the carriages were one glare
of gold.

IN THE NAVT. 63
There a.re seven theatres in Naples. That of S. Carlo,
adjoining to the royal palace, is the largest, and is gene
rally admitted to be the most magnificent and beautiful
in the world. It is capacious enough to accommodate
about five thousand persons, and is finished with a splen
dour becoming one of the largest, gayest and most
beautiful capitals in the worlds On the night of the
twentieth of August, it was illuminated in honour ofthe
king's birth day. In addition to the customary lights,
five candles were burning in front of every box, and the
effect was most splendid and imposing. On that night
the whole city was illuminated, many of the windows
in the fH-incipal streets having a candle at every pane of
glass, and the public places rang with the cries of viva
il re ! viva il re ! such are the honours paid by the sub
jects of arbitrary governments, — not to the virtues of
their sovereigns, but to the splendours with which they
are invested. How different this hollow-hearted adora
tion from that spontaneous and universal burst of grati
tude, with which fhe gallant and generous Lafayette was
welcomed by the American people.
I attended a few times the little theatre of S. Carlino,
frequented chiefly by the lower classes of society, but
not deserted by such of the higher orders as are not
averse to shaking their sides now and then by a hearty
laugh. Here Puncinello, that admirable caricature — or
rather personification — of the Neapolitan character,
showers his graces like rain on the thirsting audience.
The broad comic which distinguishes the Merry Wives
of Windsor is all the rage in this theatre. The acting
one sees there would, among us, be considered the most
abominable affectation in the world; but in Naples it is
natural to the life: — so different are the modes of inter
course in different countries.

The Jicadema degli Studii is a vast establishment,
containing most that is valuable in Naples both in An
tiquities and the Fine Arts. In sculpture, if we except
perhaps the Venus de Medicis and the group of the

64 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Niobe, it is richer than the Gallery of Florence. One
half of the ground story is filled with the productions of
the ancient chisel, nearly all of which were obtained
either from the Palazzo Farnese at Rome, or from the
excavated cities of Herculaneum and Pompeii. In this
collection, though it contains nothing equal to the two
works above mentioned, there are a great many pieces
of deservedly high celebrity — ^pieces on which the eye
and the mind linger, as if attracted by some powerful
spell, which it finds itself unable to dissolve. 1 am not
much skilled in the technicalities of sculpture or paint
ing, and cannot therefore discourse on statues and pic
tures like an artist or a connoiseur, but that is notTneces-
sary either to understand or enjoy^ the beauties of a fine
production of the chisel or pencil. Both arts are an imi
tation of nature, and even the uninitiated. may, with a
Jittle practice, learn to judge whether or not natme be
well imitated. At least, my only mode of judging of the
excellence of works of this kind, is by the effect they
produce upon my own mind, according to the rule just
laid down; and the reader is at liberty to make any de
ductions from the weight of my opinions on this account
that he pleases.
Among the pieces in this collection which I felt most
curiosity to see, was the Farnesian Hercules, a giant in
the attitude of repose. The chief merit of this statue
consists in its wonderful developement of the muscles.
It was the author's design to represent bodily strength,
and surely no artist ever made a nearer approach to per
fection in this respect than Glycon. True, the muscles
are not in a state of tension, an objection sometimes
made to the statue, but in those prodigious muscular
swells with which his whole frame is covered, the
brawny demi-god shows what he could do, if roused to
the exertion of his power. Almost the only impression,
certainly the only strong impression, left upon the mind
of a spectator who beholds this statue, is that he has seen
the strongest man that ever lived. But how weak, how
tame are the feelings which any mere bodily state or
quality excites, compared with those deep emotions that

IN THE NAVT. 65
we feel in the contemplation of the enjoyments, the suf
ferings and the properties of the mind ! In viewing the
Hercules, we are amazed at the strength of body it ex
presses, but in beholding Niobe and her Children, it is
their mental agony that penetrates our soul, and awakens
its deepest sympathies. The burning arrows that cover
their bodies,/ almost escape our notice, in the contempla
tion of that unutterable horror and despair with which'
the infliction of Latona's vengeance fills them, and which
appear the more terrible, from the high exultation to
which they have succeeded.
The Farnesian Bull, so mangled by restorations that
it is scarcely possible to tell what parts are ancient and
what modern, occupies a place in the same apartment
with the Hercules. It is the pride of the Neapolitans
and a master-piece in the art of sculpture; not the least
interesting perhaps from the circumstance that so many
artists have been employed on it, and yet that the whole
is executed in a style so unique that it might easily be
taken for the production of a single chisel. The Flora
may be all that connoisseurs make it: it would be pre
sumptuous in me to dispute their authority; but it did
not strike me as 1 expected it would. The drapery
is most admired, and rftost deserving of admiration ; but
the colossal size of the statue, and the heaviness almost
necessarily resulting from such unnatural dimensions^
were in conflict with all those ideas of delicacy and love
liness, inseparable, in my mind, from female beauty.
The Callipigian Venus, a most lovely and fascinating
creature, is considered by some as no mean rival to the
Florentine Goddess. The art of the sculptor has im
parted to the marble the appearance of the most delicate
transparent flesh, — an appearance that gives to the statue
a charm which it is impossible to describe. And here
1 cannot help observing how poor an idea the best casts
of all the master productions of the chisel give of the
originals. The size, the proportions, the minutest swells
and indentures on the surface of the statue, may be per
fectly copied and preserved, but the expression, the soul,
the indescribable fascination which diffuses its delicious
VOL. II. 7

66 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
influence through the mind in contemplating the original,
all disappear, or are but dimly seen and feebly felt, in
the copy. The Venus Genetrix is also another divine
production. Her hands are models of delicate sym
metry. The collection of statuary in the Studii abounds
in Venuses. One apartment fs appropriated almost exclu
sively to their residence. The two equestrian statues of
the Balbi family, found at Herculaneum, are justly ad
mired. The horses are executed with great truth and
spirit, and do not belie the fame for beauty enjoyed by
that noble animal.
But of all the statues that deserve the epithet " speak
ing," that of Aristides is certainly the first. Canova was
so charmed with it that he marked the three points of
view from which it is seen to most advantage ; but seen
from any point, it is always a statue that " speaks."
How much more forcibly is the mind touched by that
noble expression of candour and dignity and firmness,
with which the genius of the sculptor has animated the
Aristides, than it is by that developement of the muscular
system, perfect though it be, which we admire in the
Hercules of Glycon.
The Cabinet of Egyptian Antiquities contains many
objects worthy of notice; and among others, four well-
preserved mummies, several sepulchral monuments with
inscriptions, a numher of Egyptian idols, a quantity of
papyrus, and some specimens of the money paid to
Charon for ferrying the souls of the dead over the river
Styx. Our cicerone was particular to inform us that
it was a kind of money that would not pass any where
else! Besides the collections of marble statues and Egyptian
antiquities on the ground floor of the Studii, there is also
one of antique bronzes, surpassing, in extent and rarity
every other in Italy.
On the second floor are galleries of foreign and Nea
politan paintings, but to one who has just been examin
ing the glorious productions that enrich the galleries and
palaces of Florence, they appear rather insignificant
The library contains two hundred thousand volumes,

IN THE NAVT, 67
four thousand of which are manuscripts. The most curi
ous of these are an original copy of the Jerusalem Deli
vered of Tasso, not improperly characterized by For
sythe as a "vile scrawl," and also an original of the
philosophy of the " divine" Thomas Aquinas.

By far the most curious part of this immense collec
tion of curiosities remains yet to be spoken of I refer
to the antiquities from Herculaneum, Pompeii and Nola.
There is a long suite of apartments, literally crowded
with these antiquities, and as you wander through them,
the ages that have rolled away since the time of the old
Romans, seem to be annihilated, and you almost feel as
if you were mingling in the society of those stern lords
of the universe. Your eyes are greeted with almost
every variety of female ornaments — with carbonized eat
ables — kitchen utensils — household furniture — weights
and measures — drinking cups — lares — sacrificatory vases
. — surgical instruments — dice — tickets for the theatre —
ladies' dressing-boxes and combs — metallic mirrors — se
pulchral urns — military armour — and a multiplicity of
other objects that refuse classification, and are too numer
ous to specify. The paintings, though some of them possess
considerable merit, particularly in strength of outline and
brilliancy of colouring, are mainly interesting on account
of the insight they afford into the private life and manners
of the ancients. A person might spend weeks in examin
ing and studying these remnants of by-gone ages, and
still discover something new to gratify his curiosity, and
something valuable to repay the labour of his researches.
In viewing the pictures and other antiquities found at
Herculaneum and Pompeii, although considerable dif
ferences are plainly distinguishable, one is continually
struck with the similarity between the customs, manners
and usages of ancient and modern times. But why should
they be different ? The nature, of man, like the great
features of the physical world, is the same in all ages.
The lapse of time has produced some slight changes in
the surface of our globe, and accidental circumstances

68 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
modify to a certain extent human character ; while the
construction of the one and the elements of the other re
main essentially unaltered.
The female ornaments are kept in a small room by
themselve,?, called la stanza d'oggetti preziosi. They
consist for the most part of gold necklaces, bracelets,
eardrops and finger rings, of such clumsy workmanship
that they appear to have come from the anvil of the
blacksmith rather than elsewhere. The bread, flour,
eggs, fruits, &c. are preserved almost in a perfect state.
In a phial containing olives, the heat has extracted a few
drops of the oil, which looks as pure as if it had been
niade but yesterday. The drinking cups, in another
apartment, are of various forms and sizes, generally re
presenting the head of some animal, and so constructed
that the persons drinking were obliged to quaff off their
entire contents, before they could lay them down.
In the room containing the oggetti preziosi, is the
most beautiful Cameo in the world. It was found some
years ago in Rome by a common soldier, and sold to his
captain for a few crowns, who, in his turn, sold it to the
Farnese family for, if I mistake not, seventy thousand.
Its shape is circular, and it is about a foot in diameter.
On one side of it is sculptured the head of Medusa, and
on the other the marriage of the River Nile. Years must
have been consumed in the execution of this beautiful
work.

On our second visit to Naples, Persico, an Italian
sculptor of great talents, had just finished the models of
his emblematical statues of War and Peace, designed to
be placed in the two niches in the eastern portico of the
Capitol at Washington. The models were much praised
by all the intendenti in Naples, and the statues, which
are to be of colossal size, will, I doubt not, be well worthy
of the edifice they are intended to adorn. War is repre
sented under the figure of a man who holds a shield itt
his right hand, and a dagger in his left. His face is ani-

IN THE NAVT. , 69
mated with an expression of courage and firmness, and
his attitude is that of defence rather than defiance. But
Peace was my favourite. I was charmed with the sym
metry of her form, the harmony of her proportions, the
benignity of her countenance, and the light and graceful
folds of her drapery. Her right hand grasps the emblem
of peace, and her left that of commerce.
When interrogated, as I fi^quently was by Italians,
with regard to the state of the fine arts in the United
States, I have really been ashamed to answer; but I have
generally apologized for our comparative inattention to
them, by saying that, as a nation, we were still in our
youth; that government, commerce, and education were
more important than pictures and statues; and that it was
necessary first to attend to what is useful and necessary,
and afterwards to what is chiefly amusing and agreeable.
But this reasoning has never satisfied my own mind.
While wandering through the magnificent galleries of
painting and sculpture with which not only public insti
tutions and the palaces of kings and princes, but also the
residences of almost all the rich private gentlemen in
Italy, are adorned, I have blushed at the indifference of
my own countrymen in regard to the cultivation of these
elegant arts. The master-pieces of the chisel and of the
pencil ought not to be regarded as the mere pastimes of
vacant brains: they constitute a part of the true glory
of a nation, not less than discoveries in political econo
my, jurisprudence, and science; and they may be made
subservient to the same beneficent ends with poetry and
moral essays.
It is surprising to what an extent a taste for the grand
and the beautiful in the fine arts prevails throughout
Italy. It extends through all the ramifications of society,
from the king on the throne down to the meanest beg
gar that follows and torments you, as you pass through
the streets of her crowded cities. You are often sur
prised at the criticisms of persons belonging to the lower
orders of society on a statue, a picture, or a musical com
position. They sometimes, indeed, discourse with an

70 » TWO TEARS AND A ffALF
elegance of diction and a correctness of taste, that would
shame many a long-winded speech-maker on the floor of
Congress.

Great injustice has, in my opinion, been done to the
Neapolitans by many travellers, who have professed to
give accurate pictures of the state of society and man
ners prevalent among them. They have heen repre
sented not only as having no claims to be considered vir
tuous, but as destitute even of that miserable semblance
of virtue — external decorum — which has been allowed to
characterize the inhabitants of other parts of Italy. That
the morals of the Neapolitans are of a less severe cast
than those of the good people of these United States,
will not be questioned; but that they are more dissoliite
than in other parts of the south of Europe, nothing that
has ever fallen under my observation has given me rea
son to suppose. Mothers there take the same precau
tions to secure the virtue of their daughters, and young
ladies are not less guarded in their manners and conver
sation. The nobility in Naples are very numerous, and gene
rally very limited in their fortunes. They are fond to
excess of gaudy equipages, and often practise economy
in their living to very meanness in order to make a show
in public. There is no other nation on the globe so
devoted to finery as the Neapolitans. The King has
carriages about which nothing but gold can be seen; the
butcher sticks a bit of gold leaf on his meat in the
market; and all the intermediate classes, to the utmost of
their means, employ the shining dross in bedizening
themselves and their appendages.
The lazzaroni in Naples form one of the most nume
rous classes of the population. From some of the accounts
given of them by travellers, one would suppose that they
dressed with as much uniformity as a regiment of sol
diers, but the fact is quite the reverse. Their appear
ance is as various as all the tatters in Naples could make
them. They live chiefly on fruits, maccaroni, horse-

IN THE NAVT. 71
cheSnuts, anchovies, and capers. They are a vacant,
harmless race of beings, — more to be pitied than cen
sured. They do not work, because they can get no em
ployment. For a trifling compensation they are always
ready to serve you in the most menial capacity. Their
intellectual pleasures are of the lowest order, consisting
chiefly in listening to the stupid dialogues of Punch and
Judy, and the still more stupid holdings-forth of the
street orators. Both these amusements are peculiar to
Naples. Punch and Judy are automaton figures, carried
about in upright boxes, just large enough for the person
to squeeze in, who is to pull the cords that set the pup
pets in motion, and fill their mouths with the vulgar
humour — the only seasoning of their conversation — that
never fails to secure the plaudits of the populace. The
street orators are persons who recite passages from the
Italian classics, interlarding them with^heir own com
mentaries, and sometimes'with their own effusions on
the same subjects. They may be seen almost every day
on .the Mole and in other public places, edifying im
mense crowds with their learning and their elo

In company with Persico, I dined
Chevalier Guardati, at his country '
heights of Pausilipo back of Naples.
on just such a spot as a poet would
dence. It commands a view of Naples wi
bay, the Mediterranean, Vesuvius, and the Campagna
Felice. What more could the most enthusiastic lover of
nature desire?
The dinner was neat, but not sumptuous. Each course
consisted of a single dish. There was one of maccaroni,
prepared in such a way as to be the most delicious mor
sel I tasted while in Naples. A bottle of wine was placed
at each plate. No healths were drunk, and the gentle-^
men did not remain at table after the cloth was removed.
Soon after dinner, the company began to increase, and
by dusk it consisted of some fifty or sixty persons, pretty
equally divided between tbe two sexes. It was one of

72 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
those parties which the Italians call conversazioni. Two
balloons were sent up — one in the afternoon, and the
other at night; — a diversion greatly enjoyed by all who
witnessed it. Music on the piano, songs, dancing,
cards, and conversation, made up the other amusements
of the evening. No lady touched the piano, but several
favoured us with songs. The dark flashing eyes, the
playful features, and the speaking attitudes of the fair
performers, gave tenfold effect to the full rich tones of
their voices. The first notes of the piano were not there,
as among us, the signal for louder and more earnest con
versation. Scarcely a whisper was to be heard during
the execution of a piece of music, but at the end of their
task, the performers were always applauded with a loud
clapping of hands. A group of gentlemen, among whom
were two priests, the eldest apparently upwards of
seventy years a£ age, spent the whole evening at cards.
They played for money, but how deeply I do not know.
The Chevalier Guardati is about fifty-five years old,
urbane, intelligent, and of the most amiable disposition.
He speaks English perfectly, and is a great admirer both
of the language and its literature. He is a liberalist in
politics, and of course opposed to the present govern
ment He said there were only three go%'ernments that
he liked, — those of England, France and the United
States. He spoke in the highest terms of Murat, who
has certainly left in Naples many monuments of his en
terprise and public spirit.

During our last visit to Ngiples, the annual exhibition
of the fine arts took place at the Studii. The collection,
particularly in paintings, was very extensive, and com
posed exclusively of works executed, or at least finished,
within the preceding year. Among much trash, it con
tained a great deal that was valuable. There was a young
Cupid in sculpture, — a statue of uncommon merit The
body was faulty, but the legs, the feet, the arms, and the
wings were executed with an elegance that would not
have disgraced the Grecian chisel. The best painting in

IN THE NAVT. 73
the collection was the Death of Attila. The unfortunate
girl is reclining in the arms of her afflicted lover, and in
the act of receiving the last sacrament from the hands of
an aged monk. The sentiments of love, resignation,
despair and parental tenderness, are portrayed with ad
mirable truth and effect.
Similar exhibitions are annually held in all the princi
pal towns in Italy.

( 74 )

CHAPTER IV.

The environs of Naples are hallowed ground. There
are three principal excursions which no one who visits
that city, should fail of making. The first is to Vesuvius,
Pompeii and Herculaneum ; the second through the
Phlegraean Fields to Pozzuoli, Cumse, Baise, &c. ; and
the third through the most beautiful part of the Cam
pania Felix, still called la campagna felice, to the ruins
of ancient Capua and the royal palace near the village of
'Caserta.

A party, consisting of three midshipmen. Dr.  ,
and myself, having obtained the captain's permission,
left the Constellation on the evening following that of
our arrival at Naples, and at midnight set off on the first
of these excursions. At that season of the year, it was
impossible to ascend Vesuvius by day on account of the
excessive heats. It was a tranquil, cloudless, balmy
night. The stars shone sweetly, and the full moon look
ed like some lovelier and happier sphere, floating through
fields of ether, and shedding a portion of its pure efful
gence on a dark but not ungrateful world. Our coach
man took the street that lies along the quay, so that we
had the city on our left and the bay on our right The
vast capital of southern Italy was like a giant reposing
after the labours of the day. The occasional rattling of
a carriage over the smooth pavement, the tread of a soli
tary pedestrian, the challenge of a sentry, or the song of
a boatman, were the only sounds that broke the stillness
of the hour. The effect of moonlight playing on the rip
pled surface of the water and among the rigging of the
ships that crowded the harbour, and resting on the sombre
and massive edifices that line the streets of Naples and

IN THE NAVT. 75
the domes and spires that shoot up above them, was like
that ofthe wand of some Arabian magician. How solemn,
how soothing is the contemplation of such a scene at such
an hour! Insensibility could not behold it without kind
ling into enthusiasm.
The distance from Naples to Resina is five miles, but
the country seats on the road are so thick that you scarcely
appear to have issued from the city at all in travelling it.
Every little while we passed a lamp burning before an
image of the Virgin, at which our guide and coachman
would cross themselves most devoutly. We stopped at
the Fontana di Resina, the residence of the chief of
the volcanic ciceroni, Salvadore Madonna, where it is
usual to procure guides and jackasses to ascend the moun
tain. We agreed to pay our Mentor half a dollar for
his services, and an equal sum for each of the beasts.
'This is the usual price; but as I was mounting my jack,
a fellow came up and offered me another for half the
money. I told him I had already engaged one, and had
no need of his. He was not, however, satisfied with this
reply, but seized the bridle of my jackass, as if he meant
to force me to accede to his wishes, and continued to
urge his plea with such pertinacity that I was obliged to
give him a stout blow in the face with my fist. Even
this was not enough, for he followed me as I rode off^
extolling his animal, and begging me to exchange mine
for it
Another adventure occurred shortly after this, not less
ludicrous, and showing equally the greedy, importunate
and shameless character of this class of persons in Italy.
We found that each of the owners accompanied his own
jackass. Supposing it v^'ould only be for a short dis
tance, I said nothing about it; but as they still continued
to follow us after we left the town, I stopped and asked
them if the bargain was distinctly understood, that we
were to pay half a dollar to the cicerone and the same
for each of the beasts ? 0 yes, they understood it per
fectly, that we were to pay half a dollar for each beast
and as much more to its owner for accompanying it. I
told them that would never do — ^that they were expressly

76 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
excluded from the bargain — and that we wanted not their
services. They persisted in maintaining that we could
not do without them. At last I dismounted, turned my
jackass loose, and commenced walking towards the town,
declaring that I would procure a new set of animals al
together. This brought them to their senses. They
turned their backs upon us and walked sullenly off, leav
ing us to pursue our journey without their indispensable
company, and without the pain of listening to their in
terminable bawling in the harsh Neapolitan dialect

The distance from Resina to the foot of the cone which
the visiter has to ascend on foot, is about three miles. The
road, during the first part of our ride, lay through the
vineyards that yield the celebrated wine, called lachrymx
Christi, These vineyards, which are rich and flourish
ing at the foot of Vesuvius, become gradually less and
less so, till at length they entirely disappear. They are
succeeded by a little stinted and sickly shrubbery, which,
in its turn, gives place to that utter desolation that reigns
on the brow of the volcano, and whose empire is not
disturbed by the feeblest effort of animated nature. The
latter part of our ride conducted us through vast fields of
lava, thrown out by the eruption of 1822, and piled to
gether in such a manner as to present every wild outline
that could be imagined.' Having at length arrived at the
foot of the cone, we dismounted and commenced the
ascent up the steepest and most difficult part of the moun
tain. Hie labor, hoc opu.s est. The ascent here is at a
pretty sharp angle, and the side of the. mountain being
covered with ashes that yielded to our feet, one half at
least, and probably more, of every step was lost, so that
we had the labour of ascending more than twice the real
distance. We commenced with great spirit, but ^oon had
occasion to repent our rash rapidity, for before we reach
ed the summit, we felt the want of the strength we had
foolishly thrown away at the beginning. We reached
the ridge which surrounds the crater just at the peep of
day. The first view of the interior filled us witli astonish-

IN THE NAVT. 77
¦I''
ment and awe. We looked down into an immense and
frightful gulf, from whose bottoni and sides millions of
little columns of smoke were issuing, and in whose centre
rose an inner mound, which threw up at short intervals
flames, volumes of white smoke, pumice stones and
melted lava, with a sound exactly similar to that of
thunder. The world cannot contain a prospect of more
dreary and sublime desolation. " Nature," says the
author of Corinna, "is here no. more in relation with
man. He can no longer believe himself her lord, for
she escapes from his tyranny by means of death."
Although the guide book cautions visiters against the
'^ ambitious and most dangerous madness" of descending
into the crater, warning them against trusting to the ap
parent calm of the volcano, we were rash enough to dis
regard the advice and venture down. It is two thousand
feet deep, and can be descended only in one place. The
descent was through beds of lava so hot that we were
obliged to run to prevent our feet from being scorched.
The surface of the crater consists of layers of solid lava,
broken and thrown up by the force of the internal fires,
as we sometimes see ice along the margin of our rivers.
These internal fires are constantly working up, so that
in some places we trode on hot lava, and in others
the smell of sulphur was so strong that we were under
the necassity of using our handkerchiefs to keep jrom
suffocating;_._Ail--ti»s- notwithstanding, we proceeded
over the dangerous soil, till we reached the inner mound,
which we had the still greater temerity to descend also.
Here we had a view of what may be termed the inner
crater, consisting of one principal mouth and two small
er ones, from which smoke, flamfe and liquid lava have
been issuing for eighteen hundred years. We approach
ed so near the fearful abyss that we could distinctly sea
the boiling, red-hot lava in its bowels, and with a single
leap might have gained that immortality at Vesuvius,
which the mad poet Empedocles did at .^tna.
The sun had risen while we were in those lower re
gions, and on reascending, the view from the summit of
the mountain was indeed a relief to the feelings occa-
VOL, II. 8

78 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
sioned by those'scenes of desolate and dreary sublimity,
which alone meet the eye in that abode of death. The
Bay of Naples with its fairy islands and its winding,
village-crowned coast ; the vast sweep of the ocean; the
queen-like city with its innumerable domes and spires,
glittering in the clear sunlight of morning; the Phle
graean Fields, the fabled battle-ground of Gods, and the
favourite haunt of the ancient Muse; Pompeii, the only
perfect specimen of "an ancient city which the moderns
are permitted to contemplate; the Campagna Felice, that
classic valley covered with the richest vineyards in the
world, and gay with a thousand smiling villages; and fi
nally, the distant Apennines, lifting their majestic sum
mits to the clouds, — all lay spread out before us like
some enchanted scene, believed to exist only in imagi
nation, and to be seen alone on the pages of romance.
What an accumulation of glories ! Surely, the universe
cannot contain such another prospect. ' Well may th?
Neapolitans be proud of what Nature has done for their
country. No where else has she scattered her beauties
with such lavish prodigality.
The mountain which it had cost us so much labour to
ascend, we descended in a twinkling. The yielding na
ture of the ashes destroyed all apprehension of danger,
and we were thus enabled to take enormous strides. We
seemed scarcely^ to have started, before we found our
selves where we had left 0Hii.-3a3.kass^ , On^our return
to Resina, we stopped at the hermitage, which stands, as
it were, between life and death, being at that point
where vegetation, as if overcome in the last struggle,
yields up the empire to utter and eternal sterility. It
was here, the reader will recollect, that Mad. de Stael
makes the irresolute but generous and noble-hearted
Lord Nelvil unfold the secrets of his heart in the touch
ing history he relates to his loved and fascinating Co
rinna. The hermit, a grey-bearded old man, clothed
in a robe of the coarsest cloth, came out and politely in
vited us into his little cell. He treated us copiously to
the lachrymae Christi wine, which, had it been less ex
cellent than it really was, would have been very refresh-

IN THE NAVT. 79
ing after our excessive fatigue; and fruits and cakes were
placed before us. in great abundance. He keeps a large
book in which nearly all who ascend the mountain, re
cord their names and residences, and put down such
other notices as they think proper. We were struck
at the enormous proportion of English names record
ed in tliis book. Some of the remarks noted down
there are highly amusing. On taking leave, the good
old man received the money that we gave him with
great apparent gratitude, and pronounced upon us a
hearty benediction. We reached the Fontana di Resina
about eight o'clock, where we were welcomed by the
owners of our animals, who congratulated us on our safe
return, inquired how we liked our jacks, and wished us
" much diversion" in the rest of our excursion. We
were obliged to throw away the boots we wore up the
mountain, — an event for which we had prepared our
selves by taking two pair apiece.

After breakfast we rode to Pompeii. During the
whole of my absence from the United States, I saw no
thing that excited in me an interest equal to that produc
ed by this precious relic of antiquity; I sa.y precious,
because, taken in connexion with the antiquities disco
vered there, and which are now in the Museum at Na
ples, it teache" .<s.v,rhat we learn neither from their poe
try, nor philosophy, nor history properly so called, nor
yet from the few imperfect remains of temples and haths
which " ruthless rapine" has left us, — I mean something
of the domestic life of the ancients, considered in re
spect both to its manners and conveniences. It sup
plies in part that knowledge of the Romans which tra
velling now-a-days gives us of foreign countries, — a
kind of knowledge which history cannot communicate,
but which must be learned by mingling personally in all
kinds of society, from the drawing-room of the noble
man down to the hovel of the peasant.
We entered the city near the Barracks, where we
found the gentleman who has charge of it, and who act-

80 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
ed as our Mentor'^in visiting its curiosities. He would
not even allow us to pick up a stone from the earth, to
bear away as a memento, so Argus-like did he guard the
treasure committed to his keeping. It was the hottest
part of a burning day in August, when we arrived at
Pompeii, but, notwithstanding the want of rest and the
fatigue of ascending Vesuvius on the preceding night,
we spent four hours in wandering through the city, un
der a broiling sun, and with the thermometer at ninety
degrees of Fahrenheit in the shade. It was not time
enough to enable us to examine the antiquities very mi
nutely, but sufficient to give us a general idea of them.
They are in a much better state of preservation than I
had expected to find them. Indeed, the city has not un
dergone any material alterations for eighteen hundred
years. The streets, shops and houses, the temples, the
atres and public squares, remain just as they were when
Pompeii was enlivened with the hum of business, and
echoed to the voice of pleasure. But it is like those bo
dies preserved by the piety of the ancient Egyptians,
which are now objects of such strong and universal cu
riosity: the form remains, but the soul that animated it
-has fled for ever.
The Appian Way passes through the city, and although
the widest street there, it would not be dignified- in
our cities with any more honourable epithet than that
of a lane or avenue. Without the city, it is lined on
each side with a row of sepulchral monuments, some of
which are well worthy of attention on account of the
beauty of their workmanship. The other streets are
much narrower than this, but well paved with lava.
They differ from the streets in the -towns of modern
Italy in the circumstance of having side walks, and at
short intervals flat stones a little elevated above the pave
ment for crossing them in bad weather. The marks of
the carriage-wheels are still visible in several places,
from which it appears that ancient carriages wero on a
much smaller scale than ours. Very few of the houses
are more than one story high. They are generally small,
mean, and inconvenient, compared with the magnificent

IN THE NAVT. 81
edifices of modern times. They have no front windows,
and appear to have received all their light from a court
yard, round which they are built, and with which all the
rooms Communicate ; — a "dim" if not a "religious"
light, and barely sufficient for the purposes of existence.
Most of them have baths, and all, little chapels for the
household gods. Their pavements are of Mosaic work,
sometimes highly beautiful, and the walls, composed of
stuccoed tufo or lava, were all ornamented with frescoes;
but most of them have been removed to Naples. They
are covered on the outside also with stucco, in which are
engraven their numbers and the names of their proprie
tors. They are flat-roofed, like those of many modern
cities in Europe and the East. Several of the streets
are composed almost exclusively of shops. Those on the
Appian Way are the largest, and appear to have been the
most elegant. On the whole, the appearance of Pompeii,
had it been composed entirely of private residences,
would, in its mo.st flourishing condition, have been mean
and insignificant ; but the moment your attention is
turned from these to the public edifices, — the temples,
theatres, porticoes, &c., — you perceive that the city,
whose inhabitants you might before have taken for a
tribe of demi-barbarians, was peopled by a tasteful, luxu
rious, and polished nation. Art and opulence rivalled
each other in the construction and decoration of these
interesting monuments. To give an elaborate descrip
tion of them, after all that has been written on the subject
by far abler and more learned pens, would be in me at
once a piece of egregious vanity, and an act of unpar
donable supererogation. I shall not attempt it. The
best preserved relic at Pompeii is the Amphitheatre. It
stands apart from the rest of the city which haS been
excavated, and you arrive at it by passing through a vine
yard. It is of an oval shape, and the architecture is con
sidered singularly pure, classic, and beautiful. The tem
ple of Isis has not suffered much. It is highly interest
ing from the circumstance that the secret shrine where
the priests of that goddess concealed themselves to im
pose on the credulity of a superstitious age, is completely
8*

82 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
uncovered, and exposed to the gaze of unhallowed
modern curiosity. I have seen similar oracular shrines
in Greece, and all the world knows of their existence in
Asia Minor. It is impossible for any man of sense and
reflection to behold these evidences of weakness on the
one hand and cunning imposition on the other, without a
sentiment of pity for the credulous multitudes who suf
fered themselves thus to be made the dupes of ingenious
priestcraft, and of indignation toward the wretches wHo
were wicked enough to resort to such abominable means
to secure influence, wealth, and power. There is a little
temple dedicated to Fortuna Augusta, built at the ex
pense of Cicero, — a circumstance which cannot fail to
give it a peculiar charm in the eyes of all who have felt
the power of his eloquence. The fact of its having been
so built is known from an inscription still visible on the
wall. Pompeii was surrounded by double walls. These
have been entirely laid bare, and are somewhat more than
three miles in circuit. They are not of homogeneous
Construction, — parts of them being composed of large
square stones, put together without cement, but so com
pactly that they seem to be one solid mass, while others
are rudely constructed of stones of various sizes; — a dif
ference to be attributed probably to their having been
hastily repaired after an earthquake. They had four
gates, and were fortified by an equal number of square
towers. Not more than one-third of the city has yet been dis
interred. The remaining two-thirds are still quietly
slumbering in their grave of volcanic ashes. Had Murat
continued to reign over Naples, there had, ere this, been
a universal resurrection ; but the present government
seems to have little energy, and the business of excavat
ing goes on slowly. Piano piano, dice V Italiano,*
The King of Naples might better employ some thousands
of the lazzaroni, who infest his capital, in the comple-
• " Slow and easy is the Italian's motto."

IN THE NAVT. 83
tion of this work, than to lavish so large a proportion of
his revenues upon a clergy, already pampered to an un
natural and sickly fulness.

The questions as to the when and the how Pompeii
was destroyed, I shall not touch; but will content myself
with saying that I incline to the opinion of those who
believe that it was not destroyed by any sudden fall of
volcanic matter, but by ashes washed down from the side
of Vesuvius by incessant rains, till its inhabitants were
obliged to seek in other, perhaps in uncongenial climes,
that safety which nature had denied them in the city of
their nativity. But there are, after all, so many objec
tions to- this opinion, and indeed every other, hitherto
advanced on this interesting subject, that I cannot bring
myself to repose with confidence in any of them. Of
one thing, however, we are certain — -that the city was
destroyed — and it is impossible not to be powerfully
affected by the images and reflections that crowd upon the
mind, as you wander through its desert streets, and gaze
upon the melancholy memorials of its luxurious magni
ficence and bustling activity. Whether we believe its
inhabitants were suddenly overwhelmed by one terrible
shower from the crater ofthe volcano, or compelled, one
by one, to abandon the loved spot to which they were
bound by all the clinging recollections of childhood, to
seek an asylum among strangers, and drag out an exist
ence, embittered by a thousand regrets, their fate is
equally touching.
"But," says Dr. Moore, and I quote his remarks on
this subject, not more on account of their truly philoso
phical spirit, than for the eloquent pathos which per
vades them, " are not the inhabitants of all the towns
then existing, of whom we think without any emotion
of pity, as completely dead as those of Pompeii? And
could we take them one by one, and consider the nature
of their deaths, and the circumstances attending that
of each individual; some destroyed by painful bodily
diseases, some by the torture of fhe executioner, some

84 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
bowed to the grave by the weight of accumulated sorrow,
and the slow anguish of a broken heart, after having suf
fered the pangs of dissolution over and over again, in
the death of those they loved; after having beheld the
dying agonies of their children ; could all this, I say, be
appraised, calculated and compared, the balance of suffer
ing might not be found with the inhabitants of Pompeii,
but rather with those of the contemporary cities, who,
perhaps at that time, as we do now, lamented its severe
fate."

On our return, we stopped at Portici, the modern town
beneath which, at the depth of from seventy-five to one
hundred feet, lies the once populous and flourishing city
of Herculaneum. In order to avoid the destruction of
the modern city, the excavations here are filled up the
moment whatever is valuable has been removed. In
deed, such is the difficulty of making them, that they are
at present entirely suspended. Nothing is shown here
but the theatre, by striking upon which, in digging a
well, Herculaneum was discovered. You descend to it
by torch-light, the guide and each of the party always
bearing a torch; but the cold, damp air, and the dimness
of the light, prevent its being seen with that pleasure
which one feels in viewing the remains at Pompeii. It
was larger and evidently more magnificent than either
of those at the latter place, but resembles them in other
repects.

In company with Dr.  , I left the ship early, on
the morning of the fourteenth of August, on an excur
sion through the Phlegraean Fields, — a region that na
ture seems to have selected for the display of her giant
powers, and which she has at the same time adorned
with her divinest beauties, — a region literally " strewed
hallowed ruins," and rich, above ali others, in the
recollections of classic mythology. Here are seen
the crates of several "extinct volcanoes, and mountains

IN THE NAVT. 85
thrown up by the force of their hidden fires: here was
the Forum of Vulcan, where the Giants battled with
Hercules: from these "Fields" the poets have gathered
all the dark images of Tartarian wo, and all the bright
visions of Elysian blisSj with which they have embel
lished their descriptions of heaven and hell; and on this
coast, the luxurious old Romans, attracted hythe deli
cious climate and scenery, sought those delights which
the CiTT denied them, and erected those sumptuous
villas, whose ruins attest the pride of their lordly owners.

We proceeded from Naples to Poz^oli by the new
road, made by Murat along the bank of the sea. The
romantic character of the scenery renders this a de
lightful ride, and has caused the old road through the
Grotto to be almost forsaken. At about half the dis
tance, we passed the little island of Nisida, where Cicero
once had a conference with Brutus, and which he calls,
" Insula clarissimi adolescentuli Luculli."
Pozzuoli, the ancient Puteoli, the Portsmouth of the
Romans, and denominated by their greatest orator Parva
Roma, is now a miserable village, remarkable only for
its filth and beggary. As we passed through its streets,
we were disgusted by the sight of children literally
naked, who followed our carriage, calling themselves
" poor devils," and begging qualche piccola cosa* to
keep them from starving. Puteoli was the second place
at which Paul landed in Italy, on his journey to Rome.
Even there he " found brethren, and was desired to tarry
with them seven days."
The two principal objects of antiquity that attract the
attention at Pozzuoli, are the Temple of Jupiter Serapis
and the Collisseum. The former, judging from the re
mains still visible, must have been more magnificent
than any other of the ancient temples that I saw in Italy.
The Collisseum was sufficiently capacious to accommodate
forty-five thousand persons. The area is now covered
* "Some trifle."

86 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
with grape vines. Here, as in the Collisseum at Rome,
the early Christians, confounded with persons convicted
of the most enormous crimes, for having professed the
purest and sublimest faith ever revealed to -man, were
exposed to be devoured by tigers and lions for the amuse
ment of the refined Romans. Augustus once assisted at
games given in his honour at this amphitheatre.

Having, according to the usual custom, hired a cice
rone and engaged a boat to meet us at Baiae, we proceed
ed to Cumse by land, through scenes which, I need not
inform the classic-reader, awakened in us the deepest en
thusiasm. Amid such a congregation of interesting ob
jects as this coast presents, the mind feels little disposi
tion for conversation. The splendid recollections that
crowd upon it, absorb all its powers, and whatever
breaks the revery, produces a painful feeling; as a dis
cord in music never fails to be disagreeable to a prac
tised ear. A little beyond Pozzuoli, we passed the
ruins of Cicero's villa, where he composed the Qm^s-
tiones Jlcademicse, and where the Emperor Adrian is
said to have been buried. Mount Gaurus, anciently
celebrated for its rich vineyards, but now a sterile and
rocky elevation, was on our right: before us rose il
Monte Nuovo, tiirown up, after the earthquake that swal
lowed the village of Tripergole, by those fires that
slumber in the bowels of this coast: and on our left, lay
a glassy expanse of waters, the ancient Avernian Lake,
the fabled entrance to the gloomy empire of eternal
night, but now stripped of all those terrors, real or ima-
aginary, with which the poets invested it. Arrived
finally at what is called I'Arco Felice, one of the ancient
gates of Cumse, our carriage halted, and our cicerone very
politely asked us if our " excellencies would permit him
to help us to descend ?" We stopped a few moments to
view the plain on which the first Grecian settlement was
made in Italy. From this spot, with the exception of
the arch itself and a few remains of the ancient walls,
not a vestige was visible to mark the site of that city,

IN THE NAVT. 87
which, from the number and opulence of its inhabitants
and the amenity of its situation, was thought by the
ancients to be entitled to the epithet of fortunata.
Nothing appeared but a vineyard, covering the whole of
the undulating valley on which the city stood, and bend
ing beneath the weight of the rich treasures, that were
to swell the yearly vintage of that fertile and delightful
country. From this point we descended towards the sea, to the
Cave of the Cumsean Sibyl. It is probably to this ca
vern that Virgil refers in his description of the inex-
tricabilis error of Daedalus:
" Excisum Eubolca latus ingens rupis in antrum;
Quo lati ducunt aditus centum, ostia centum:
Unde mittotidem voces, responsa Sibyllae."
It was in this cave that the founder of the Roman empire,
then a wandering exile in search of a stable resting
place, was directed to descend to the lower regions, and
informed that he would there meet with his father, and
be instructed in the arcana of futurity. The cavern still
remains, though with somewhat less than a " hundred
mouths;" but the Oracle that inhabited it, has long since
ceased to utter its mystical and lying prophecies to su
perstitious credulity. On the hill above the cave stood
the temple of Apollo Sanitorius, of which a few frag
ments of marble are the only present remains. In this
temple was kept the famous statue of that god, brought
from Attica, and said to have been accustomed to weep
at the misfortunes of the Cumseans.

We continued our ride to Baiae, leaving the Fountain
of Acheron, where is a little summer-house of the king,
on our right. Of what Baiae was, it is needless to speak:
what it is, may be told in very few words; — ^a heap of
ruins, with a few miserable huts, whose inmates, clothed
in rags or entirely naked, came out and absolutely ctj-
treated us to buy ofthem bits of Mosaic, verde antiq/ae
and other trifles, which they said they had gathered from
the ruins of the ancient city. The most interesting re-

88 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
mains of antiquity here are the ruins of three temples
— supposed by some to have been baths — ^those, to wit,
of Venus Genetrix, Diana Lueifera, and Mercury. The
latter is the best preserved, having the rotunda entire.
It received its light through an aperture in the top, hke
the Pantheon at Rome.
In crossing the Bay of Baiae, whose classic waters have
witnessed many a proud display of Roman splendour, our
guide pointed out to us, amid what appeared one undis-
tinguishable mass of ruins, the villas of Julius Csesar,
Piso, Pompey, Marius, &c. We could also plainly dis
tinguish the remains of palaces beneath the surface of the
water. These, with the temples already mentioned, are
the only remnants of that proud and luxurious city,
which Horace preferred to all others on the globe, and
which Seneca declared to be a residence little fitted for
those who wished to maintain any dominion over their
own passions. What volumes do they speak on the
insignificance of. human pride and grandeur! Could
tliose haughty masters of the universe, who contended
for a single acre on this coast for the display of their
riches, have looked forward with prophetic eye to' the
desolations that time would make in the proudest monu
ments they had reared to their luxury and power, a sen
timent of humiliating sadness must have taken possession
of their minds, and dislodged those inebriating images cf
glory, and superiority, which chiefly haunted their ima
ginations.

This whole region abounds with warm and mineral
baths. Those of Nero at Baiae are so called from the be
lief that that tyrant had a villa in their vicinity, and that.
the excavations were made by his order. A dense
column of steam is constantly issuing from their mouth,
and the water in them is sufficiently warm to boil an
egg in a few moments. The fellow who attends there
stripped himself of every thing but his pantaloons, and
we did the same, determined, if possible, to follow him
till we reached the boiling fountain. We had, however,

IN THE NAVT. 89
scarcely advanced a half dozen steps, when from a sen
sation of suffocation, we were obliged to abandon the
attempt, and return to thet fresh air. The salamander
returned in about two minutes, completely drenched
with sweat, and with his face and body as red from in
flammation as if they had been covered with a mustard
plaster. He had taken a vessel with him, which .he
brought back full of water. Two eggs were soon cooked
in it, and as the doctor did not choose to appropriate
either of them, I had the pleasure of devouring both.
It is customary to boil as many eggs as the party contains
persons.

From the Baths of Nero,> having glided for a few rods
along the golden strand, we again disembarked to visit
the Lucrine and Avernian Lakes, — ^both equally cele
brated, though for different reasons, by the ancient poets,
and both the subjects of many a brilliant page in the
books of modern travellers. The former .;_ furnished
thoge "delicious" oysters, — cfe/?Wow.s only because those
of our American waters were then unknown, — which
loaded the tables and regaled the palates of the Roman
nobility; while the latter was employed to awe the ima
gination and work upon the fears of ignorant credulity.
On the margin of Lake Avernus is a grotto, considered
by some as the cave of the Sibyl, to which Virgil alludes
in the sixth book of the ^nead. I have already given
my opinion on that point. The appearance of the other,
I think, corresponds better with the^ poet's description;
and the account seems to place the ofte there referred to
nearer to the sea than that on the bank of Avernus. I
have, however, little doubt that this was also the seat of
an ancient oracle. Buried in an almost impenetrable
forest, and on the border of a lake regarded as the de
scent to the infernal regions, it was a spot peculiarly fa
vourable to that mystical obscurity, which was the main
pillar of all the systems of ancient mythology. In the
open and ingenuous character of Christianity, what a
beautiful contrast is furnished to thfe dark and dubious
VOL. n. 9

90 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
folds that enveloped the false religions of antiquity ! How
different its Divine Founder, publishing his doctrines in
the highways, to multitudes who "trode one upon ano
ther," and in language so simple that he that ran might
read, from those self-styled apostles of the Gods of
Egypt, Greece and Rome, who selected the dens and
caves of the earth as the fittest places for the delivery of
the divine will, and who veiled their revelations in such
mystical and double language, that, even when their pre
dictions failed of accomplishment, they could always
shelter themselves behind the impenetrable shield of
misinterpretation !

The next place at which we disembarked was Bauli.
Here we found a greater population than at Baiae, and
beggary and wretchedness proportionably increased. It
is impossible to convey by writing any idea of the earn
estness with which these wretches beg of you to buy their
littl6 antiques, or of the modes in which they force their
..services u'pon you for the sake of a copper. They seem
to read your slightest wishes, and if you have none, they
imaginethat they read them, in your looks, and they fly
to execute them Ijke a slave goaded by the lash of the
task-master. The coast of Bauli is also strewed with ruins; among
which we visited the Cento Camarelle, a vast labyrinth
of subterraneous apartments, probably designed for a
prison; the Piscina Mirabile, built by order of Lucul
lus, as a reservoir of sweet water for the use of the Roman
fleet; and the Sepolcro d'.S.grippina that abominable
woman, whose crimes were equalled only by those of
her son.
The souls of the dead might now cross the river Styx
without the trouble of being ferried over, but Elysium,
once invested with an atmosphere of purple light, cloth
ed in undying verdure, and fanned by breezes, pore, fra
grant and invigorating, at present scarcely presents a
temptation to so cheap an entrance upon its joys. Sure
ly, that paradise of ancient heroes must have undergone

IN THE NAVT. 91
sad changes, since the poor ghosts were willing to sub
mit to be bawled at and quarrelled with by that peevish
old scold of a ferryman, Charon, for the sake of enjoying
its pleasures.
Having closed this part of our trip by a peep at the
Dragon's Grotto on the promontory of Misenum, we
again embarked and crossed over to Pozzuoli, passing
the remains of the bridge erected by Caligula from that
city to Baiae. The heat and dust were so excessive, and
had so exhausted our strength, that we were obliged to
forego visiting, as we had intended, Solfatara, the Grotto
of the Dog, and the Lake of Agnano, all of which are ge
nerally included in this excursion.

The last trip I made in the vicinity of Napletf was
on the eighteenth of August. It was to Caserta and
Capua, the former of which is thirteen, and the latter
fifteen miles, from Naples. Dr.  , as usual on such
occasions, was my companion. Our ride both in going
and returning, but particularly the latter, lay through
the richest and most beautiful part of the Campania Fe
lix. The traveller may well be excused for bursting in
to raptures in describing this enchanting valley. The
roads are bordered with the laurel, the myrtle, the oak
and the elm, whose luxuriant branches are married to
the laughing vines, which creep from tree to tree, hang
ing in beautiful festoons, and forming continuous arbours
almost impervious to the rays of the sun. What a pity
that the numerous villages in this valley, which appear
beautiful at a distance, do not in reality harmonize with
the natural charms that surround them! They are com
posed for the most part of miserable huts, and present a
most squalid and beggarly appearance. The streets are
filled with dirt and half-naked children.
The Royal Palace at Casei-ta was commenced by
Charles the Third of Spain, the modern Herodes Atti-
cus, with the avowed design of producing an edifice that
should rival the vastness and splendour of the abode of
the ancient Caesars. It embraces four court yards, each

92 TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT.
of which is capable of containing one of the largest
buildings in the city of New York. It is capacious
enough to accommodate the largest court in Europe,
with all its retinpe of ministers, stewards, lackeys, at-^
tendants, &c. Millions have already been expended on
it, and scarcely any part of it, except the grand stair
way and the vestibule, is yet completed ; nor is it pro
bable that it ever will be. The king of Naples- has
no less than five palaces in different parts of his domi
nions, most of which are among the most costly in
Italy. One half of the money they have cost, would
have given employment tb all the lazzaroni in Naples.
Such are the blessings of regal government.
The pleasure grounds belonging to the Caserta palace
are very extensive. They are terminated by a moun
tain, down whose sides tumbles, for a distance of seve
ral hundred feet, a broad artificial cascade, the whole of
which is visible from the palace. It affords one of the
most delicious pr^pects in J;he world. The Royal Silk
Manufactory and the prodigious Aqueduct that suppUes
the city of Naples with water, are both in this vicinity,
but we had not time to visit them.
The only relic of much interest at Capua is the Am
phitheatre, This is better preserved than that at Poz
zuoli and more dilapidated than that at Pompeii, but was
much larger than either. It had five corridors extend
ing the whole circuit, and sixty-two entrances. The
subterraneous apartments in which the prisoners and
wild beasts were kept, are still almost perfect It is not
long since a considerable quantity of gold was found
secreted in one of these cells. It is supposed that some
prisoner found means to smuggle it in there. It is im
possible to behold specimens of this class of ancient ruins,
and reflect on the horrid speQtacles that were accustom
ed to be exhibited in them, without congratulating our
selves on the superior refinement of modern times.
There is but one national amusement in our days — the
bull-fight of Spain— that bears any analogy to those bar
barous pastimes of the ancient Romans,

( 93 )

CHAPTER V.

When we left Mahon in the month of September, it
was the intention of Capt Wadsworth to have visited
all the principal Sicilian ports, but the varioloid broke
out on board the ship while we were at Naples, ren
dering it of course impossible to get pratique in any
of them. In addition to this, a terrible influenza ran
through the ship, scarcely an officer or man escaping.
This disease was attributed to the heavy dews which
fell every night After sunset, the quarter deck and
every thing else expcsed to the externalair, were as
wet as they would have been after a shower, of. rain.
The varioloid was of a very mild kind, and although a
considerable number of the crew and some ofthe mid
shipmen were affected by it, very few died.
We sailed from Naples on the twentieth of October,
and anchored off Cape Carthage on the twenty-fifth.
Here we found a much purer climate, and the influenza
soon made its exit. No new cases of varioloid appear
ed after leaving Naples, and on the thirtieth, it was
thought safe to get under weigh for Mahon ; where, af
ter a boisterous and disagreeable passage, we arrived on
the sixth of November. A quarantine of ten days, —
with plenty of letters and newspapers from America,
was not long in passing away. Immediately on its ex
piration, I applied for permission to live ashore, and es
tablished myself at my old quarters, of which I remain
ed, for nearly five months, the undisturbed and happy
occupant. The schoolmaster of the Boston, a young
gentleman who was graduated with the first honour at
Yale College, occupied an adjoining room. He was fa
miliar with the classics, and full of the enthusiasm of the
scholar and the man of feeling. It is refreshing to meet
with such persons, and we passed many a cozy hour in
9*

94 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
discussing the beauties of Tully and Flaccus, and in re
viving the reminiscences of classic boyhood. The re
collections of college life are remembrances that cling to
the soul, as the vine does to the elm to which it is wed
ded. They are the oases of human life — the green spots
that cheer its sterility and desolation.
I shall take advantage of our long stay in Mahon
to call back the attention of the reader to the Navy, of
which Twas in danger of losing sight altogether amid
the glories of classic Italy.

No American can have been long in the naval service
of his country, and have observed with attention the
system of things prev'alent on board of our public vessels,
without a feeling of patriotic pride in the arrangement
and discipline of our ships, and in the intelligence and
energy-dgf our officers. He will have observed with the
highest gratification many things, which scarcely admit
of improvement. The great cleanliness and excellent
order in which our ships are kept, the indefatigable train^
ing of their crews to a thorough practical knowledge of
their duty, the strict subordination of rank, and the ready
obedience paid by inferior officers to the orders of their
superiors, are points in which there is scarcely any thing
left to be desired : and they are all points of vital import
ance. Cleanliness and order are indispensable to the
health and comfort of both officers and men; and in these
respects, so far as I have had opportunities to observe,
our men of- war surpass those of all other nations, not
even excepting Great Britain. Wherever we went, the
Constellation was admired and praised beyond measure
on both these accounts; and it is but justice to the officers
to whose supervising care these commendations were
due, to say that they were all welLdeserved.
Great credit is also due to our officers for their con
stant exertions to make the crews of our vessels of war
thoroughly acquainted with the whole routine of their
duties. The vast importance of such knowledge in time
of war cannot but be obvious to the most unthinking

IN THE NAVT. 95
mind. It was to a superiority of this kind that the
splendid triumphs of our Navy in the late war with
England, were mainly attributable. English writers,
in apologizing to their countrymen for the disgraces they
experienced in that contest, have never failed to dwell
upon the superior gunnery of our seamen, alleging that
the crews of our vessels were composed of "picked men."
They will always be composed of such men, so long as
their officers continue as indefatigable as at present in
their efforts to make them expert gunners and skilful
seamen. Nor are the subordination of rank and implicit obedi
ence to the orders of superiors of less importance. They
are the essential elements of promptness and efficiency.

But while an observer in the Navy will see much to
afford him gratification, and to awaken his pridepf .coun
try, he cannot fail to discover much also which needs to
be rectified, and a deficiency of much that ought to be
supplied. Indeed, the defects of the present system are
such that I cannot hesitate to give it as my opinion, — and
this opinion is fortified by those of gentlemen better qua
lified than myself to judge in this matter,-.-that the con
dition of the service demands an entire re-organization
of the Navy. This subject has engaged the attention of
the Naval Committees in both Houses of Congress for
some years past, and bills have been reported, containing
important modifications ofthe existing system; but they
do not, according to my conception, cover the whole
ground, or embrace all the improvements of which the
service is susceptible. I am not vain enough to suppose
that the suggestions I am about to throw out, if carried
into effect, would entirely supply what is wanting: such
as they are, however, I invite for them the serious con
sideration of all who feel any interest in the reputation
and prosperity of our infant Navy. They are the com
bined result of my own observations and frequent con
versations with intelligent naval and other gentlemen.
The alterations, then, which, in my judgment, ought

96 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
to take place in any re-organi?ation of the Navy, are
in the establishment of the grades of Admiral and Rear
Admiral ; in the establishment of a Naval Academy; in
the pay and rank of some of the officers; in the modes of
discipline; and in the domestic economy of the ships.

Multitudes of my fellow-citizens, I am well aware,
are opposed to the establishment of an Admiralty in our
Navy. In their eye, it smacks of monarchy. It offends
their republican notions. In the infancy of our Navy,
it may not indeed have been desirable or proper to copy,
in respect to rank, the naval systems of Europe. Mot
desty and economy may both have demanded greater
simplicity. But, — now that our naval reputation is se
cond only to that of England, and our public treasury is
overflowing with plenty, — neither of these objections has
any longer an existence. A large majority of our naval
officers with whom I am acquainted, and who are cer
tainly better qualified than any others to judge of the ex
pediency of establishing an Admiralty, are decidedly in
favour of it It would place our Navy in point of rank
on an equality with the Navies of foreign countries; and
why should it be inferior in this respect ? It might, and,
in my opinion, would be expedient to establish the grades
of Admiral and Rear Admiral merely for the sake of
etiquette; but other and higher considerations demand it.
Every body knows that military command goes entirely
by rank. No officer in our Navy, as it is at present or
ganized, could ever take command of a oombined fleet
In such a case, an Austrian or Dutch Admiral would
take precedence of our most gallant and experienced
Captains.

The establishment of an Academy for the education of
our naval officers, on a plan analogous to that of the Mili
tary Academy at West Point, is an object of great im
portance, and cannot but be earnestly desired by every
friend of his country, who will take the trouble seriously

IN THE NAVT. 97
to reflect upon its advantages. High as our Navy de
servedly stands in the estimation of our citizens, it will
never possess that reputation for intellectual and moral
worth, which it would be easy to confer upon it, so long
as the mode of receiving midshipmen into the service
and their subsequent education continues to be what they
are at present. They are generally received at an age
when neither the intellectual nor moral character can
possibly have been formed, and without any examina
tion to ascertain their capacities or acquirements. They
are immediately put upon the active duties of their pro
fession, and three of the five years that precede their ex
amination, must be spent at sea: and I appeal to any one
who knows what a man of war is, if the bustle, the
excitement, the novelties, and the evil examples, into the
midst of which they are there thrown, are favourable to
the improvement of either the mind or heart ? Of the
tv7o remaining years, one at least is devoted to visiting
friends, and during a portion of the other, the young
officer manages to muster up resolution enough to wage
a feeble warfare on the habits he has formed at sea, Stnd
is too apt to be satisfied, if he learn just enough of ma
thematics to prevent a failure in his examination. Such
a system may make good sailors, but it will never make
thorough navigators. If any of the officers — as I know
many much to their own credit do — become good mathe
maticians, and well read in history and the law of nations,
they do so, not by the facilities afforded them by the go
vernment, but in spite of the embarrassments it throws
in their way. The apathy of Congress on this subject, is
to me equally surprising and unaccountable. Is it the
result of inattention, or a misguided economy, or a dis
regard to the public honour and interests ? Or what can
be the occasion of it ? This subject, that is the establish
ment of a Naval Academy, is one on which I had never
reflected much previous to entering the service; but I
now regard it as that in which the fame and prosperity
of the Navy are most deeply involved.
I have already, in the second chapter of this work.

98 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
spoken ofthe importance to a naval officer of having his
mind thoroughly disciplined, and richly stored with the
various treasures of knowledge. It is unnecessary to re
peat here what I have there said in relation to this sub
ject The difficulty of training the mind to habits of
systematic thinking and philosophical reasoning on board
a man of war, furnishes one of the strongest arguments
that can be urged in favour of the establishment of a Naval
Academy. This difficulty, though it may be presented
in strong colours, can never be fully comprehended ex
cept by those who have had personal observation or ex
perience of it. Under a different system of sea-instruc
tion, it might be considerably diminished, though no
system could ever supersede the necessity of previous
study ; but the schools on board of our public vessels
at present are in most cases little better than useless, and
in some it is to be feared that they are absolutely per
nicious. The office of schoolmaster is not a permanent
one. He has no regular rank, and no authority what
ever over the midshipmen, who are his pupils. On
board some of our ships, there is no regular plan of in
struction, and on board all, it varies according to the
varying caprice of the commanding officer or the first
lieutenant. The schoolmaster himself has no power to
enforce obedience, and cannot hold his pupils accounta
ble for the neglect of their studies; and few of our com
manders feel it to be a part of their necessary duty to
superintend the scientific education of the midshipmen.
' Hence most of the schools are regulated upon the prin
ciple of convenience, which means generally little else
than no regulation at all.
Add'to this original imperfection in the plan of in
struction, the necessary irregularities in the execution of
any plan, and the endless interruptions to which students
on board of a man of war must always be subject from
the calls of duty on the one hand and the distractions of
pleasure on the other, and some idea may be formed of
the very little progress a young midshipman, unused
to the toils of study and cheated into idle habits by the
seductive belief that there is " time enough yet" to pre-

IN THE NAVT. 99
pare for his examination, might be expected to make in
the study of navigation and the other sciences connected
with it I cannot illustrate these remarks better than by
giving some account of my own school, which I do the
more readily, as I shall thereby redeem a promise
made to the reader in a former part of this work.
I commenced my official duties in the English Chan
nel, a few days after we landed the foreign ministers.
Atirst I taught two hours in the morning and two in the
evening; but when we arrived in the Mediterranean,
we shipped a master of French and Spanish, who occu
pied one half of the day, and the remainder only was
afterwards devoted to mathematics. During the first
winter that we spent in Mahon, even of this the dancing
master had a moiety, so that only one poor hour out of
the twenty-four was given to those severer studies, on
which their future reputation and usefulness as profes
sional men mainly depended.
In summer our school-room was no more than the
space between three of the guns on the half deck, screen
ed off by a canvass curtain. At first not even this
screen was allowed us, and we were open to the gaze of
every passer-by. In the winter Capt. Wadsworth gave
us the use of the forward cabin. Two watches — that is,
generally from ten to fifteen midshipmen — attended
school at the same time. The only report I was requir
ed to make, was of their attendance; and as a school
master in the navy has no absolute control over his pu
pils, it was very difficult to confine them to any regular
course of study. Persons accustomed to systematic in
vestigation will be surprised when I tell them that, in spite
of all remonstrances against such rambling habits of study,
I have been applied to by the same person, within the
space of two hours, for instruction in all the following
branches — viz. Decimal Arithmetic, Geometry, Trigo
nometry, the Sailings, Lunar Observations, the use of
the Instruments, and the doctrine of Tides. Such out
rageously eccentric orbits were not indeed common to
our math'ematico-aqueous comets, but they were gene
rally more or less irregular, owing to a want of a proper

100 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
reciprocity of action between the centripetal and centri
fugal forces.
Our school was always subject to a great many inter
ruptions and irregularities. The Babel of noises on the
gun deck does not, to say the least, afford any aid to a
man in search of mathematical truth. Indeed, such is
the confusion, that one would be tempted to thipk every
thing like an attempt at study, under such circumstances,
little less than farcical: yet the interruption from this
cause is not so great as might at first be imagined, -
Familiarity with these noises gradually diminishes their
power over the aittention; and wherever the attention
can be controlled, whether in the camp of an army or
the cell of a hermit, there a course of study may be
advantageously prosecuted. But the " mind" is not
always " its own place. " Circumstances often affect it
powerfully, and sometimes control it completely.
, We were subject to irregularities from other causes.
During our summer cruises, port was always fatal to
the school; so that the proportion of time in which it
was suspended to that in which it was in operation, was
at least three to one. It was only while in winter quar
ters that any thing like regularity was ever "observed by
the midshipmen in the prosecution of their studies.
The midshipmen on board the Constellation were
generally young, and their minds had not previously
been trained to habits of systematic investigation.
There was no lack of talent or enterprise among them,
but there was certainly some little dearth of what Reid
considers the very essence of genius, and what is at least
the " one thing needful" in pursuing a course of study^*
the power of confining the attention exclusively to
the subject under consideration. I commenced by
-dividing them into classes according to the watches, the
only classification practicable; and even this, from the
very small control I could exercise over them, I soon
found to be impracticable. Some of them could not or
would not get the lessons, otliers could get more and
did not wish to be kept back, and others again were dis
satisfied if they did not recite individually all they

IN THE NAVT. 101
learned. Our discussions in the school-room were some
times not a little amusing. " Mr.  ," one would
say to me, " it says here ' that an acute angle is less than
a right angle ; thus the angle ABC is less than a right
angle:' now how do you know that ABC is less than a
right angle ?" — It is evident from inspection. — " Yes,
but how do yon prove it?" — It is a definition, and does
not require proof; if you wish to measure it, there are
instruments for that purpose, and the method of doing it
you will learn in its proper place. — "' No, I want to
prove that ABC is less than a right angle, and I have
heard there is a way of proving it by Algebra." Another,
in demonstrating a theorem in geometry, would come to
a certain step in the process: " Now how does that con
clusion follow ?" — It is based upon a preceding propo
sition. — "But how do I know whether or not that pro
position be true ?" — You have already proved it, and
what you have once established by demonstration,
though you cannot remember the whole process of rea
soning that led you to the result, you may ever afterwards
take for granted — " But I don't wish to take any thing
for granted: other people don't take things for granted,
and why should I ?"
I find that I am extending my remarks under this
head to an unwarrantable length. In the argument thus
far, it has been taken for granted that the Navy ought to
be officered by accomplished mathematicians and tho
roughly educated gentlemen. If those who admit this
position, are not yet convinced that the facilities afforded
for study on board of our public vessels are but ill fitted
to make such officers, I am sure that one cruise would
cure them of all their scepticism. Let them act upon
the principle of the old Spanish proverb. El que no sabe
lo que es la guerra, que vaya it ver.*
The importance of forming the moral character to
habits of virtue and propriety, and of establishing it upon
the firm basis of an inwrought and immovable regard to
moral obligation, affords an argument, and to a well con-
* "He.who is ignorant of what war is, let him become a soMer."
VOL, II, 10

103 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
stituted mind, an argument of great weight, in favour of
the establishment of a Naval Academy, What freeman
of correct principles and sentiments, would be willing to
commit the defence of his country's rights to the hands
of men, who could trifle with the sacred principles of
morality, or who would feel no kindling emotions in the
contemplation of moral - excellence and ibeauty? The
benevolent Author of our being has in his wisdom seen
fit to make our moral constitution in its infancy as plas
tic as the forest sapling, and in its maturity as immova
ble as the sturdy oak that feels the sweeping hurricane,
and laughs, unhurt, at theimpotency of its power.
If it be important that a healthful tone be given to the
moral character of our naval officers, it is equally im
portant that it should be imparted before they enter upon
the active duties of their profession; for there is surely
little wisdom in leaving the moral stamp to be impressed
upon the man beneath the noxious and sometimes fatal
influences to which naval life is exposed. To say no
thing of the modification the character might receive on
shipboard, the seaport towns frequented by our vessels
in the Old World, abound in evil examples and alluring
temptations. The gaming-table spreads its glittering
piles of dollars and doubloons before the unsuspecting
eye and fragile bulwarks oflyouthful virtue; the delights
of social intercourse on jsliore after long confinement at
sea, tempt the generous Spirit of youth to too free an in
dulgence in the pleasures of the glass; and the strongest
passion of our nature finds aliment in the corner of every
street, and a justifying apology for its gratification in its
own growing fires, and in the sanction of public opinion.
Thus it appears that a proper regard for the intel-.
lectual and moral standing. of our Navy, demands the
establishment of a Naval Apademy; for he who has not
already learned to think and reason for himself, stands
but a miserable chance of securing this invaluable part of
mental discipline on board a man of war; and many of
the moral influences that would there contribute to the
formation bi his character, are calculated to debase and
pollute tha soul, rather than to elevate and fit it for the

IN THE NAVT. 103
enjoyment of those pure and healthful pleasures, that
flow from the contemplation and practice of virtue.
Other considerations go to make the demand for such
an institution still more urgent. It has never been pos
sible for me to conceive upon what principle it is that
we have an academy — and one of which we may well be
proud — for the training of military officers, while the
scientific education of our naval officers is left almost
entirely to chance, or caprice, or the unaided enterprise
of the young aspirant himself. Where are the grounds
of distinction? And if any exist, what are the superior
claims ofthe Army? Is not the Navy the most efficient
branch of the public service? And if any distinctions of
this kind are to be made, a thing which no naval gentle
man would desire, does not every consideration, relating
to the interests and credit of our country with foreign
Governments, point out the Navy as the appropriate
favourite of the nation? Do not naval gentlemen much
more frequently than military, come in contact with
foreign Governments? And are not the opinions there
fore of foreigners in relation to our country much more
likely to be modified by the Navy than by the Army?
Are navigation and seamanship, and the branches of
mathematics connected with them, of less importance
than engineering and fortification, and their concomitant
sciences? Is it, in short, of less moment that the officers
of our Navy should be men of sound principles, of cor
rect habits, and of enlarged intelligence, than that those
connected with the military service of the country
should possess this character? I leave these questions to
be answered by the candour of every gentleman, who
will take the trouble to consider them.
Native enterprise and sagacity are generally charac
teristic of our naval officers. They are, with scarcely
an exception, good seamen; many have laboured suc
cessfully to store their minds with the necessary quan*
tum of mathematical and general knowledge:' but they
themselves are ready to admit that there are few among
them, who ever become finished mathematicians and
scholars. In a Naval Academy the courses of mathema-

104 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
tics and philosophy should be made as thorough as they
are at West Point, and French and Spanish ought by all
means to be made indispensable to promotion. At pre
sent it is a rare thing for midshipmen to learn more
of mathematics than is contained in Bowditch, and it
ought not to be concealed that our officers are lament
ably deficient in their knowledge of modern languages.
In this they can scarcely be considered excusable, for
they enjoy every facility that could be desired for learn
ing to speak them, and their deficiency therefore can be
attributed only to that want of a habit of study, which,
I have insisted, ought to be formed before they enter
actively upon their profession.
I have often been mortified beyond measure by exem
plifications of this deficiency. An officer meets with an
intelligent foreigner, who commences by ' interrogating
him — "Do you speak French?" — "No." — "Do you
speak Italian?" — " No."—" Spanish?" — " No."— He
may add perhaps one or two languages more, in relation
to which he receives the same answer, and here the con
versation is usually dropped. While the Constellation
was^ lying at anchor off Napoli di Romania, I was at
Argos in company with Dr.  , who conversed only
through an interpreter. A Greek who happened to be
present, observing this, whispered in an English sur
geon's ear to know if we had no schools for languages in
America? On being answered in the affirmative, he
rejoined, "Why, how is that? Here's a doctor,' and he
can't speak Italian!" This is one instance of a species
of surprise that I have found more common than I could
wish the occasion of it were.
The importance to naval gentlemen of a familiar ac
quaintance with the popular modern languages, is incal
culable. It would be idle to undertake to prove, to
those who know it by experience, the value ofthe study
of languages as a mental discipline and embellishment,
and as aTkey to the history and character of foreign
nations; but even they, if they have never been abroad,
cannot feel the advantages of speaking a foreign lan
guage, like one who has mingled in foreign society.

IN THE NAVT. 105
Place a man in the company of foreigners, and unless he
can speak their language, whatever may be his accom
plishments, he feels like a clown in the midst of a polish
ed circle. Then as to travelling in foreign countries, its
paramount advantage, the acquisition of a knowledge of
national character in its various modifications of habits,
manners, and customs — of thought, reasoning, and senti
ment, is almost entirely lost to one who knows only his
mother tongue.

In re-organizing the Navy, some alterations would
perhaps be advisable in the pay and rank of some of the
officers. The pay of midshipmen, for example, is, in
my estimation, exceedingly deficient. If they have the
rank of officers, why not allow them a sufficient compen
sation to support it respectably ? What are twenty dol
lars a month to enable any officer to clothe himself as he
ought, and make a decent appearance in foreign society ?
A full dress uniform, exclusive of sword and hat, cannot
cost less than fifty or sixty dollars — a sum equal to about
three months' pay. It is desirable for officers to have
not merely uniform but citizens' dresses; but midship
men cannot, without other resources than their pay,
possess both, and frequently do not possess either in such
quantity and quality, as to enable them to appear gen
teelly among strangers.
My .reader would be amused to see a party of midship
men in a foreign port " rig out," as they term it, for a
" cruise" on shore. He would in many instances see
them borrowing a coat from one of their companions, a hat
from another, a pair of boots from a third, and so on of
almost every other article of dress. Could all the mid
shipmen on board of the Constellation have been spared
from duty at the same time to attend a party, I verily
believe that not more than one half of them could have
gone for want of suitable apparel. Let the government
seize one horn of the dilemma, — either to take from them
their rank, or give them more money. It may be said
that they are thoughtless, and if their pay was increased,
10*

106 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
they would squander it. They would, in my opinion, be
less likely to do so in that case than at present Many of
them are, now allured to the gaming table by the lyingbut
seductive hope that they may thereby make up the defi
ciencies of their purses. Give them a sufficiency to sup
ply their wants, and to enable them to support the cha
racter of officers and gentlemen, and let any disposition-,
resulting from the thoughtlessness of inexperience, to
use their money improperly, be checked by a strict
watchfulness over their expenditures.
Some modification needs also to be made in the law
regulating the pay of chaplains. This class of officers
receive, when doing duty in the Yards, something like
twelve hundred dollars a year; but the moment one of
them is ordered to sea, he is cut down to six hundred
and sixty. In this regulation there is not a shadow of
justice or reason. Are not the duties of a chaplain as
arduous, and his privations a hundred fold greater, at sea
than on shore ? And must not his expenses be necessa
rily increased, when he has two tables to provide for; —
one for himself, and another for his family ? Besides,
ought not the government to use a little liberality, and
put a few dollars in his pocket for the purpose of enabling
him to see the various objects of interest that attract the
attention of the curious in foreign countries ?
If it is desirable to have schoolmasters in the Navy at
all, a just regard to the interests of the service would
seem to demand that some alteration should be made in
relation to their pay, rank and duties. The present com
pensation of schoolmasters is twenty-five dollars a month
and two rations. They have no definite rank and no specific
duties. The bill, re-organizing the Navy,repoTted by Mr.
Branch in the House of Representatives during the present
session of Congress, (1831-2) makes the office of school
master, heretofore merely temporary, a permanent one.
So far all is well; but further than this I cannot approve.
It fixes his pay at eight hundred and fifty dollars a year
when in actual service, and three hundred and fifty when
on leave of absence. Now, let me ask, where is the
Secretary of the Navy to find persons of suitable qualifi-

IN THE NAVT. 107
cations, who will be willing to enter the service for life,
with a rank below that of midshipmen, and condemned
eternally to the boisterous merriment of the steerage, or
the putrid bilge water of the cockpit ? As to the pay, I
know not upon what principle either of justice or expe
diency, it is to be cut down from eight hundred and fifty
to three hundred and fifty, the moment the poor peda
gogue sets foot on his native soil. Such a regulation
would be perfectly anomalous.
In regard to the rank, there are urgent motives why
it should be made higher. It would give the teacher
greater respectability in the eyes of his pupils, and in
duce gentlemen of talents and learning to enter the ser
vice in that capacity. Shakspeare is great authority, but
I must beg leave to believe that there is something even
in a " name," and that oi schoolmaster does not convey
associations of the most elevated or agreeable kind. If
it be expedient to have a permanent office of this kind,
let the incumbent be denominated Professor of Mathe
matics, and enjoy a rank and receive a compensation,
equal at least to those of a chaplain; and let none be ap
pointed to the office but those who are thoroughly and
beyond a doubt qualified to fill it.
The duties of a schoolmaster ought to be specific, and
the hours for school regulated upon a settled plan, which
should be made common throughout all the ships in the
Navy. He should have at least authority enough over
his pupils to control their intellectual pursuits, and should
be required to make, at stated periods, minute reports to
the Secretary of the Navy of the conduct, studies, pro
gress and application of each midshipman under him.

The military discipline of the Navy is certainly of a
very high order. I have already borne cheerful and
honest testimony to its excellence: but in giving a new
organization to the naval service, the propriety of mak
ing some changes in the modes of discipline might per
haps be judiciously considered. The most common pu
nishment of the men now-a-days is flogging, which, I

108 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
am sorry to say, is carried to what I conceive to be an
unnecessary extent. Debased as sailors are, there are
still some generous traits in their character, and they are
capable of being controlled in their conduct by nobler
motives than those which influence the stubborn ass and
grazing ox. I would have the power of flogging with
the colt limited to the captain and first lieutenant, and
the cats should never be used but by order of a court
martial; while some honourable distinctions should re
ward the tar who has distinguished himself by the pro
priety of his conduct and the discharge of his duty, and
some notorious disgrace should be inflicted upon him
who had proved faithless to his trust, or violated the
rules of decorum. The scourge would not, indeed,
then as at present be, perpetually held up in terrorem
over the head of the poor sailor to frighten him into his
duty, but his moral sentiments would act with tenfold
vigour; and the crews of our vessels would soon begin to
feel and act like a different ord^ of beings from what
they now do.

The naval service is also susceptible of improvement
in the domestic economy which prevails on board of our
ships. I employ the phrase domestic economy, because
I can find no other that so nearly expresses my mean
ing ; but I limit its application chiefly to the messes of
the inferior officers. The wardroom table on board of
the Constellation was as well regulated as any Ordinary
in the United States; but in all the officers' messes below
this, consisting of the forward officer's mess, the cockpit
mess, and the three steerage messes, an utter want of sys
tem and comfort was apparent. To all these messes, for
which of course there could be no community of cook
ing, as there was no community of expenditure, during
the first three-fourths of the cruize, only one cook was
allowed. A second was at last granted, and his services
made a material difference in our tables: but a scarcity of
wood was always complained of, and it was a rare thing
that either the steerage or cockpit could get a dish cook-

IN THE NAVT. 109
ed, so as to have been fit to be placed on a decent man's
table on shore. None of the messes below the wardroom
was permitted to have more than one mess-boy. Two
were repeatedly and earnestly asked by the cockpit, but
never granted. I know not what just grounds there
are for a distinction frequently made between the higher
officers and their inferiors in the quantity of certain ar
ticles of provision, which they are allowed to draw from
the ship's stores. On board of our ship, the steerage
was never restricted in their allowance of salt beef, nor
were they ever permitted to draw as much flour and
butter as they desired. When at sea, there were only
two days in the week, on which they could have butter
and fresh bread. The living of midshipmen at sea, I
cannot but think, is very unwholesome ; and, were it
not for their active exercise and the vigour of their di
gestive organs, there is reason to fear that it would in
many instances prove ruinous to their health.
Thus much for the service, cooking and food of the
inferior officers. If we look at the arrangement of their
messes, we shall- find still greater room for reform. The
 I was upon the point of lifting the curtain, and
spreading the whole scene before my readers; but I for
bear. Let it suffice to say that whatever credit, and I
am far from denying that much is due to the higher offi
cers for the watchful care they extend to the midship
men in all that relates to military discipline and profes
sional duties, they take no supervision whatsoever over
their domestic concerns ; and these are therefore ma
naged, as it might be expected that youth, without ex
perience and judgment above their years, would manage
them. I am well aware that this is not a matter for le
gislation: still I do not believe that the evil is without a
remedy. Hints, though not very judicious in them
selves, often set people to thinking, who are more fruit
ful in expedients of improvement; and, thus encouraged,
I venture to ask ifit would not be well for the captain, or
some one appointed by him, to take an oversight of the
domestic affairs of the midshipmen, and for some one of
the superior officers, like the prefect of a college, always

110 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
to be present at their meals? The first of these sugges
tions I regard as all-important: the second I throw out
as a hint for consideration ; not as a measure upon
which I have thought sufficiently to recommend it.

*¦

But whatever may be the system of internal polity
and discipline on boards of our public vessels, all will
agree, that it ought to be uniform. In this respect there
is at present a great defect. Such is the diversity in the
arrangement and government prevalent in different
ships, that one would scarcely know what the details of
the service are, from an observation of the system, as de
veloped on board of any single one of them.

Many of our naval officers possess a great fondness for
reading, and it is important that each of our vessels of
war in active service, should be supplied with a public
library. This has of late years been customary, and, jh
the New Regulations published by the present Secretary
of the Navy, I have perceived with pleasure that that
judicious and efficient officer has given a list of the works
to be furnished to every ship in commission. The cata
logue does not contain a book that ought not to be there;
and in the quality and quantity of solid aliment, it leaves
perhaps little to be desired. Still I think it might he
judiciously enlarged; but in the suggestion I am about
to make, should this paragraph ever fall under the eye
of the Secretary, I beg he would not consider me as re
commending my own book to his patronage. I have
spoken of a suggestion, but I will merely state a fact
Those books most sought after by officers on foreign sta
tions, are such as contain descriptions of the countries
and places they visit — whether in the shape of poetry,
travels or romances. A judicious selection of works of
this kind would, I am persuaded, be generally accepta
ble to naval gentlemen ; nor could they fail to produce
the most beneficial effects in awakening a thirst for in-

IN THE NAVT. Ill
formation, in whetting the curiosity, and inducing a ha
bit of extending and digesting their observations.
A taste for reading is invaluable to naval officers. They
have generally abundance of leisure, and therefore am
ple opportunities of laying up funds of useful know
ledge, from which they can draw for their own amuse
ment and that of their friends. The diffusion of such a
taste throughout the Navy would be among the happiest
results of a Naval Academy. In many cases, it would be
an effectual bar to those offences, for which midshipmen
are now most ' frequently court-martialed; — viz. run
ning in debt, gaming and intemperance.
The first of these is very common ; and the poor peo
ple who give credits, often suffer great inconveniences
from being kept out of their just dues. I knew mid
shipmen in the Mediterranean who, without any re
sources but their pay, were in debt in Mahon to the
amount of two, three and even four hundred dollars.
Commodore Biddle had one mess of midshipmen on
hpard of his ship, who, on account of their debts, were
entirely debarred the privilege of going ashore; and
who were obliged to live within their ration, and a very
small allowance of thmr monthly pay. Captain Wads
worth did not allow his midshipmen to draw money
from the purser, even when it was due them, without
an order from himself. They complained bitterly of
this regulation as tyrannical and unjust, but it had the
good effect of keeping nearly all ofthem out of debt
Gaming is also practised to a very great extent. The
Monte tables at Mahon are the ruin of many a hopeful
young midshipman. In frequenting them, I am sorry
to say, they are too much countenanced by the example
of their superiors in office. In the whole catalogue of
vices, there is none, at once so seductive and so dangerous,
so destructive of character and happiness, and so blight
ing to the understanding and the heart, as gaming. A
confirmed gambler is a ruined man. To his darling
passion and his lying hopes he will sacrifice every thing;
— honour, honesty, and friendship, — the holiest instincts
of nature, and the loftiest principles of moral virtue.

112 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
There is no crime,, which, in the madne.ss of disappoint
ment, he may not be tempted to commit; and no moral
sentiment, which, even in his coolest moments, he- will
not violate without compunction. Forgery, robbery, and
murder, when driven to desperation by ill success, will
float, in horrid and startling colours, before his imagina
tion; and he will take his seat at the card-table, ere the
earth has settled over the remains of a parent or a wife, —
insensible to the tenderness, and regardless of the respect,
due the memory of the guardian of his youth, and the
parfher of his manhood. ^ ^,
This is no fancy-picture. No one can have arrived at
mature years, and mingled much in the world, without
having seen, alas! too many originals. I shall not of
course be understood as intiiMting that I know any
naval gentleman to whom the description will apply? but
let the young officer beware. Many a youth, — endow
ed with the finest genius, and adorned with every virtue,
¦ — at once the happiness, the hope, and the pride of his
parents, — has commenced with small bets in the fashion
able circle; has aftervfards been, through curiosity dt
politeness, induced to visit the regular gamiijg house;
and thence has proceeded from one degree of infatoation
to another, till he has 'ended with being chained to his
bedstead in the cell of a maniac, or exhibited to the gaze
of the populace, a victim upon the gallows, with the guilt
of murder on his soul.

In former parts of this work, I have made frequent allu
sions to the character of our seamen, and given a variety
of characteristic anecdotes. Sailors — I speak of them as
a class — are made up of an odd assortment of elements.
Generosity; a sort of grumbling contentment; suscepti
bility to kindness; a mixture of credulity and scepticism;
a superstitious dread of imaginary, and a contempt of real
dangers; a strong love ofthe marvellous; a rough, open-
hearted simplicity of manners and language; gross sensu
ality; shocking profaneness; imperturbable effronterv in
lying; and an insatiable thirst for strong drink,— will
generally be found to be the constituent parts of a sailor's

IN THE NAVT. 113
character, when carefully analyzed. On the whole, the
bad qualities preponderate, and the character of our sea
men as a body is very low in the scale of moral excel
lence. Sailors, however, are in my opinion, far from being
irreclaimable. The disuse of ardent spirits among them;
the providing of libraries for their use, adapted to their
capacities and pursuits; and the regular communication
of moral and religions instruction, would, I am persuad
ed, be productive of the happiest results both to them
selves and to the service. .Having merely thrown out
these hints, I flatter myself that they will so commend
themselves to the good sense of all, under whose eyes
they may fall, as to render if unnecessary for me to en
large much upon them. *
The disuse of intoxicating liquors alone would be a
revolution mo.st cheering in itself, and most propitious
in its tendency. This is beginning to be felt to be the
truth hy{f.he officers of the Navy themselves. For their
fxertions to induce the crew of the Constellation to dis
continue the use of them. Captain Wadsworth and Mr.
Paulding are worthy.of all praise; and the success they
met with, was beyond any thing before known in the
service. About two-thirds of the crew stopped their
grog, and received money instead of it. Since then still
greater efforts have been made ; and there is not a man
attached to the John Adams, now in the Mediterranean,
who draws his grog. On hoard of some of the other
ships on that station, the proportion of stop-grogs is
more than two to one. Let this spirit continue to be
cherished by the officers, and let them encourage the
men by their own example, and in five years not a drop
of spirits will be required for any of our vessels of war.
If any stimulating drinks are necessary, let light wines
or beer be provided; and by all means, let tea and coffee
be made parts of the regular ration. What justice is
there in making our seamen purchase with their own
money articles, now universally classed among the ne
cessaries of life?
The sailors on board of the Constellation were con-
VOL. II. 11

114 TWO TEARS AND A HALF ,
tinually applying to the officers for books. A taste for
reading, if encouraged and provided with proper aliment,
would not only be a perpetual source of amusement to
this useful class of our citizens, but it might be made to
contribute essentially to the elevation of their moral cha
racter. The subject is certainly of sufficient importance
to engage the attention of the Department. I have some
times thought also that the employment of one or, two
persons in the capacity of schoolmasters to the boys, and
such others of the crew of each of our men of war, as
might choose to profit by their instructions, would be a
judicious measure. ,
But the great lever to be employed in raising the mo
ral character of the seamen in our naval service, is un
doubtedly the labours of a pious, intelligent, and judi
cious body of chaplains. The law at present requires
that prayers be read every morning and evening, and a
sermon preached every Sunday morning, on board each
of our ships, provided with a chaplain. The first part
of the law being entirely dead letter, Mr. Jones recom
mends its repeal. I respect his opinion; yet I cannot
but think that the requirement was wisely made, and
that therefore its enforcement would be attended with
happier consequences than its abandonment.
There can be no good reason, in my apprehension,
why sloops should not be allowed chaplains, as well as
larger vessels. Is the inferiority in the number of their
crews an adequate reason why their moral improvement
should be neglected ?
The question, how can a chaplain in the Navy be most
useful ? — is somewhat difficult to be answered.. The
wisdom of Solomon would scarcely be sufficient to guide
him on all occasions. He ma};^ be assured, however,
that any thing like cant in his language, or ministerial
twang in his enunciation, or affected solemnity in his
looks and deportment, will effectually defeat his useful
ness. He should be cheerful, condescending and affable;
— but at the same time, serious, firm and dignified. Let
him mingle with the sailors; respect their prejudices; be
indulgent to their errors; listen to their adventures — and

IN THE NAVT. 115'
he will often hear in them much to amuse and interest
him ; exhibit an affectionate interest in their comfort and
welfare; and he will soon find a way to their hearts, and
gain a high place in their respect. Thus fortified by
their esteem, his appeals to their consciences would be
attended with a tenfold effect. In his, public services,
he should always study conciseness and simplicity. A
single idea, clearly and forcibly developed, is enough for
a sailor at once. I do not feel myself capable of multi
plying directions, but by pursuing and persevering in
a perfectly judicious course, I cannot doubt that a moral
revolution would be effected in the Navy, astonishing
even to its authors.

( 146 )

CHAPTER VI.

" Once more upon the waters, yet once more.
And the waves boun^ beneath me lite a steed,
Tliat knows his rider."
As the light of the sun to a culprit long immured
within the damp cells of a dungeon, such are the ocean
air and the bounding waves to a sailor, who has for five
months been pent up in winter quarters. With the re
turn of spring, the officers on board of a man of war
always become impatient to get to sea again. It was
therefore with exhilarated feelings that we heard all hands
called to " unmoor ship" on Wednesday, the thirtieth of
March, 1831.. In the present instance, this feeling of
gladness was increased to a tenfold intensity by the an
ticipation of a visit to those hallowed regions, around>
which cluster all the glorious recollections and brilliant
images of Grecian history and fiction.
The Boston sailed in company with us, having on
board Lieutenant Ridgway, of the United States Navy,
appointed temporary Consul at Tripoli, to supply the
vacancy occasioned by the death of Mr. Coxe. She is
a much finer sailer than the Ontario, our companion the
preceding summer. Indeed, with tlie wind free, she
could hold her way with the Constellation under equal
sail; but in beating, the latter would have to lie-to nearly
a third of the time. On our passage to Tripoli, we had
head winds constantly, so that we did not arrive off the
town till the eighth of April. The Constellation had no
communication with the shore, but hove-to and waited
for the Boston two days. Even the bomb-boats were
not allowed to come near us, — a precaution to which we
were all willing to Submit in order to avoid a long qua-

TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 117
rantine at Malta. On the tenth, the Boston stood out
from the harbour, and both ships filled away for the
capital of that island, where we arrived four days after
wards. On our passage from Mahon to Malta, and during the
remainder of the cruise, one would have said that our
ship was more like a music school than a floating fortress.
While in winter quarters, most of the midshipmen had
taken lessons on the guitar, and there was not a moment,
from nine o'clock in the morning to the same hour at
night, that our ears were not greeted and grated with
their eternal thumbings. The men too caught the musi
cal infection, and about the galley and on the forecastle,
fiddles, fifes and clarionets became the order of the day.
On our arrival at Malta, we found a number of English
men of war there; and as soon as we were moored, our
band was ordered to play " God save the king." A few
days after, the Britannia, a new and beautiful three
decker, came in, and, with an insulting but characteristic
haughtiness, her band was ordered to play, " Rule Bri
tannia. " The instant it had ceased, ours struck up " Hail
Columbia." The British never can forgive us for having
humbled their naval pride during the last war. They
may put on a show of good fellowship, but a lurking
jealousy may almost always be discovered through the
gossamer with which they endeavour to conceal it

La Valetta, the capital of Malta, is built on a penin
sula in the northeast part of the island. It has a harbour
on each side. One df them is appropriated exclusively
to merchant ships, performing quarantine. The Laza^
retto is on an island near the centre. The other harbour,
called Marza, on the southeast side of the town, is much
the largest and most commodious. It is one of the finest
in the Mediterranean. Its entrance resembles that of
Mahon, and it is generally of about the same width,
though not more than half as deep. Men of war are al-'
lowed to perform quarantine there, and the regulations
11*

118 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
are such that you can get provision as well and cheap in
quarantine as in pratique. This is the case in no other
port in the Mediterranean, except thatof Mahon.

The Constellajiion was quarantined five d^ys, and the
Boston fifteen. We remained only three days after we
got pratique, — rbarely time enough to give us a glance at
the fortifications and other curiosities of the place. The
most striking feature of the capttal of Malta is undoubt
edly the prodigious military works by which it is de
fended. These surpass, beyond all comparison, in extent,
strength and beauty, those of Gibraltar itself. Malta is
not as strong a place as Gibraltar, but the superior strength
of the latter results, not from the superiority of its forti
fications, but from its position and other natural advan
tages. In Malta the art of fortifying has been exhausted.
Human ingenuity is not competent to devise, nor human
imagination to conceive, any thing more solid, substan
tial and durable, or more admirably adapted to the pur
poses of defence. No fleet can approach it, for the mouth-.
of the harbour is defended on each side by one of the
strongest fortresses in the world ; — on the right by the
castle of St. Elmo, and on the left by that of St. Angelo.
The walls that encompass the city are of prodigious
thickness, and the places in the ramparts for retreating
aud making new stands against the enemy, form a per
fect labyrinth. So much was Napoleon struck with the
strength of these works, that when the city was surren
dered to him by treachery, in passing under the arch in
the wall, through the principal entrance on the land side,
he observed to his Aid, " General, it was well that there
was some one within to open the gate to us; otherwise,
we never should have been able to get possession of the
town."

La Valetta is a much neater, cleaner and more mo
dern looking town than any of the cities on the pen
insula of Italy. It is, indeed, less magnificent, because

IN THE NAVT. 119
it is less rich in costly palaces, churches and \^orks of
art. The houses are all of stone, and have a solid, mas
sive and almost prison-like appearance. They are flat-
roofed, and to a spectator who can look down upon
them, they present about sunset a picturesque, gay
and animating spectacle. The roofs are then covered
with innumerable family groups, engaged in almost as
great a variety of amusements. Some are promenading,
and others seated and enjoying the pleasures of social
intercourse; some are watering their flowers and ad
miring the ten thousand beauties which they offer to their
contemplation; while others are drawing such tones from
the gay guitar, as set the feet of all the merry-hearted
listeners in motion.
La Valetta is b,uilt on ground so uneven that the side
walks in some parts of the city consist of long flights of
stone stairs. After the Fortifications, the great lions of
the place are St. John's Church, the Palace of the Gover
nor and the Armoury. The first of these any city in
Italy would be proud to count among the number of its
temples. It is possessed of immense riches, and is fin
ished in the most costly style. Some of the balustrades
are of massy silver. It is, however, at present less rich
than formerly, as Buonaparte robbed it of a large pro
portion of its treasures. In one of the chapels of this
church are suspended upon the walls, the huge keys of
the city of Rhodes, which the Knights of St John
brought with them, when they abandoned that place, to
take possession of the island of Malta. There is also in
this church one of the finest specimens of Mosaic I have
ever seen, — the head of the grand master, Emanuel
Pinto. At the distance of a few paces, you cannot dis
tinguish it from painting.
The Governor's palatfe is a large and sumptuous
edifice, but after having seen those of Genoa and Flo
rence, it possesses few attractions, except some very curi
ous specimens of tapestry, with which the ceiling of
one of the halls is hung. The paintings, though laud^
ed to the skies by the little guide-book of Malta, are
none of them above third or fourth rate merit, and they

120 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
are generally far below even that. The lover of the fine
arts will find Malta extremely barren of entertainment
He will, indeed, have the pleasure of contemplating
some specimens of sculpture in the corners of the streets,
and in the highways in the country, but they are gene
rally lost spirits encircled with the flames of purgatory.
Since Malta fell into the hands of the English, the
armours of all the most distinguished Knights of the
order of St. John have been removed to England; but
the armoury is still the greatest curiosity in Malta, and
well worthy of attention on account of the number and
variety of specimens it coiitains- of the weapons of de
fence, used in the middle ages. It seems almost incre
dible that any but a race of giants coifld have supported
the prodigious weight of some of the armours. How
they could not only support them, but, while encum
bered with them, engage in tilts and tournaments and
feats which required agility as well as skill, is still more
inconceivable. That Milo should have been able to
raise the ox, having lifted it every day from a calf, is to
me no longer mysterious or incredible. What a won
derful being is man ! How vast his powers and suscep
tibilities! If God has made our physical nature suscepti
ble of such astonishing improvement, with how much
higher capabilities for advancement must he have en
dowed our mind, that nobler part of our being, on which,
as it came originally from his hand, was stamped an
image of his own infinite perfections!
In the old city — Citta Vittoriosa — on the opposite side
ofthe harbour, I saw the remains ofthe palace ofthe Grand
Masters t)f the order, with the dungeons in which they
confined their infidel prisoners. Dismal cells and heavy
fetters were the portion of all the wretches who fell in
to their hands. Near this is an arsenal, containing naval
stores for the use of the British squadron in the Medi
terranean. The amount of these was prodigious.

While the Constellation remained at Malta, I spent
most of my time with the American Missionaries stationed

IN THE NAVT. 121
there. The Mission at that time consisted of the Rev.
Messrs. Temple and Goodell, and Mr. Halleck, printer,
with their families. I found them kind and hospitable;
simple in their manners, and plain in their living; and
apparently anxious for nothing but to promote the moral
and religious condition of the people among whom they
were sent to labour. They formed, indeed, a contented
and happy little community, and three of the most de.^
lightful days I saw during my absence from America
were spent in their society.
The object of the missionary establishment at Malta,
if I understand it, is chiefly to print Bibles, tracts and
other books for the use of the missions in the East, but
more particularly, those established in Greece and Asia
Minor. In this respect, it has undoubtedly been very
useful, and its friends have no reason to complain; but I
question whether it is as useful in Malta as it would be
in some other places. When the missionary press was
established at Malta, there were insuperable objections
to fixing upon any other point on the shores, of the Me
diterranean ; but the most important of them have been
obviated by the change that has since been effected in
the political arid civil relations of the Greeks and Turks.
The most zealous friends of the missionary enterprise
could not fail to be convinced, by personal observation,
of the inexpediency of continuing the press at Malta,
when there are so many more eligible places farther
east. The prejudices and influence of the Catholic
clergy in that island cause the labours of the missiona
ries to be confined almost exclusively to the primary ob
ject ofthe mission; but in Athens, Napoli, Hydra, Sy
ra, or Smyrna, they would be enahled to wield a mighty
influence for good over almost the entire mass of people,
with whom they might come in contact.

The first day I was ashore in Malta, I rode in the
evening with Mr. Goodell to St. Paul's Bay, so called
from its being the supposed place of the shipwreck, de
scribed in the twenty-seventh chapter of the Acts. It

122 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
is about eight miles from La Valetta. Our driver went i
on foot, and trotted the horse nearly all the wa.y. On-
leaving the city, I observed that he put a loaf of coarse
bread into the carriage, and to an inquiry whether he
intended to eat while we were gone; he replied " Non,
signore, e mangiare pel cavallo.* ¦*
, Our road led us through a barren, rocky and uninte
resting country. The island of Malta is about sixty
miles in circumference. It is a soft, porous, limestone
rock, in its natural state almost entirely destitute of
soil, and where there 'is any native earth, it is not
generally more than ten or twelve inches deep. A
large proportion of the present soil of the island is com
posed of earth brought from the neighbouring island of
Sicily. Every few years, an incrustation takes place on
the surface of the native rock, which destroys all fertility,'
and renders it necesSary to remove the earth, and restore it^*
at great expense and labour. We saw people in several'
places engaged either at this operation, or in making new
soil, for they were carting earth from large piles, and dis
tributing it over the surface of the rock. But with all ,
this trouble, Malta does not produce any thing like a suffi
cient quantity, of provisions for the support of its own
inhabitants. Large draughts are constantly made upon
England and Sicily to make up the deficiency. It pro
duces, however, in abundance many excellent fruits.
The oranges that grow there are the most delicious of
any to be met with in the Mediterranean. It is a re
markable fact that one of the most barren islands in the
world, — an island which the Knights of St. John hesi
tated to accept as a present when first offered to them
by Charles the Fifth, — should have a denser population
than any other portion ofthe globe, not excepting China
itself. The whole number of inhabitants, including those
on the island of Gozo, is about one hundred aud twenty
thousand. This amazing denseness of population must
be owing chiefly to the combined operation of three
causes, — its advantageous position, the excellence of its
• " No, sir, it's food for the horse."

IN THE NAVT. 123
harbour and the enterprise of its former and present pos
sessors. My ride, however, although through a monotonous
and uninteresting region, was rendered not only tolera
ble, but delightful, by the conversation of Mr. Goodell.
He entertained me with characteristic anecdotes of his
residence among the Arabs in Palestine, and 'with the
"'relation of many interesting circumstances, illustrating
the nature and difficulties of the missionary enterprise.
He is a man of great research and learning in the lan
guages and customs of the East, and filled with a gene
rous but not intemperate enthusiasm in the cause to
which he has devoted his life. Mr. Temple is a gentle
man of milder virtues, of less determined energy of cha
racter, and not so deeply versed in Eastern lore, but
equally zealous for the moral improvement of his spe-
„ cies, and equally devoted to the enterprise in which he
is engaged. Humanity and religion would lose much
in the death of either.
In St. Paul's Bay there is little to interest the visiter,
except the associations connected with it. It is on the
north side of the island, near its centre. -An examina
tion of the place has convinced me (and Messrs. Tem
ple and Goodell are of the same opinion) that this is the
real scene of the shipwreck of the great Apostle to the
Gentries, described with so much effect by the graphic
pen of the Apostolic Physician. It is a deep indenture
in the coast, with a neck of land running out and divid
ing it into two parts. Beyond the point in which this
protuberance terminates, the water is very shallow for a
considerable distance out at sea, a circumstance which
renders it particularly dangerous in a dark and stormy
night Not far from the point above mentioned there is
a small island, between which and the coast, the waves,
when the wind blows from the north, naturally come
into collision with each other. This corresponds exact
ly with that part of the description which calls the scene
of shipwreck a "place where two seas met." Mr. Tem
ple, however, is of opinion that the passage ought to be
rendered a place washed on both^sides by the sea, and

124 TWO TEARS AND A HALF ' '
the description would then be equally applicable, as this
is actually the case with the neck of land already.
pointed out. The creek into which, in the morning,
"they were minded, if possible, to thrust in the ship," was
probably that long arm of the sea, which forms the
southern division of the bay. On the whole, I think no
reasonable doubt can remain of the identity of this place
and that- described in the account of St. Paul's ship- '
wreck. Whether the little church dedicated to that
Apostle, which stands near the water's edge, really oc
cupies, as they say it does, the site of the house of Publi-
us, in which Paul effected the miraculous cure on the
Governor's son, is somewhat more questionable. But
there is one circumstance connected with our visit to it,
that deserves to be recorded for its singularity. The
sexton absolutely refused to receive any compensation
for his trouble — the first and the last refusal ofthe kind ,
that I recollect to have occurred during our whole cruise.
In Citta Vecchia, i town about equally distant with St.
Paul's Bay from La Valetta, there is a cave which the
priests declare to have been Paul's residence the winter
he was detained on the island. I had not time to visit
it. Fragments of the rock, both from the cave and the
bay, are eagerly sought after and highly valued by the
simple-minded sailors, who have been educated in the Ca
tholic faith, as a charm against disasters at sea. I got a spe
cimen from the latter place, and my Catholic friends in Ma
hon assured me that I had nothing more to fear from the
violence ofthe '"aves. From the tone in which this assu
rance was given, I will not answer for its sincerity; but
there are thousands who believe in the efficacy of such
charms.

Fiction and history each lends-its own peculiar charm
to the recollections connected with this island. The
Cave of Calypso is by many placed in this instead of the
neighbouring island of Gozo. Others suppose it to be
merely the summit of one of the highest mountains in
Atlantis, which, they say, was swept away or over-

IN THE NAVT. 185
whelmed by the rush of waters into the Mediterranean,
. when the angry tides of the ocean met and forced a pas
sage through the isthmus that connected the continents
of Europe and Africa. Before that dire event, far be
low this then rocky and towering elevation, lay those
ever verdant valleys, — the peaceful and happy abode of
the citizens of Plato's Republic.
But leaving the regions of fiction, come we to those
of history. Few isolated spots, so insignificant and va
lueless in themselves, have ever been the theatre of so
many important revolutions and occurrences. The first
inhabitants of the island were Phaeacians. It was wrest
ed from them by the Phoenicians, and afterwards fell
successively into the hands of the Greeks, Carthaginians,
Romans, Goths, Saracens, Modern Italians, French and
English, The most important revolution it has ever ex
perienced was that by which it was annexed to the do
minions of Charles the Fifth, who gave it, on certain
eonditions, the chief of which was eternal enmity and
opposition to the Turks, to the Knights of the celebrat
ed order of St. John of Jerusalem, called also the
Knights of Rhodes and Malta. While in their posses
sion, it sustained a number of sieges, the most remarka
ble and glorious of which was that directed against it in
1565, by the Turkish Sultan Soliman, during the
grand-mastership of Lavalette. When requested by his
friends to retire from the field, the generous old soldier,
with the weight of seventy-one years upon his shoulders,
nobly refused to comply with their solicitations, declar
ing that he could not die more honourably than in
the defence of his country, and the service of his God.
With a comparative handful of soldiers, he defended the
place against thirty thousand of the elite of the Sultan's
forces, and compelled them at last to retire ingloriously,
after a long and fruitless attempt to reduce the garrison
to submission. Christendom was more indebted to the
Knights of Malta, for their efforts against the Turks,
than to any other Power. While Europe trembled at
the very name of the Othman Despot, this little band of
military religious scorned his power, and defied his
VOL. II. 12 ,

126 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
wrath. Bold, haughty, resolute, and superstitious, —
breathing hatre4 to the very name of Infidel, fond of
glory, and jealous of their honour, — they waged an in
cessant and destructive warfare against the Corsairs that
infested the Mediterranean. With the decline of the
Turkish power, the motive to active exertion was pro
portionably diminished, and those energies which had
before been employed in efforts for the good of Europe,
soon began to be wasted in dissipation. The love of
glory yielded to the desire of amusement, and cruises of
pleasure on the coasts of Italy, France and Spain were
substituted for those in which they had formerly engaged
against the Infidels. In this way their moral and mi
litary virtues gradually became corrupted and lost their
lustre, and that fortress which, two centuries and a half
before, had nobly withstood the strongest efforts of a Mo
narch, seated upon a throne at whose footstool prostrate
Europe was not ashamed to offer up her prayers, in 1798
was basely surrendered by treachery to a young aspirant
for military power and fame.
Immediately on the surrender of La Valetta to the
French, it was blockaded by an English squadron. The
blockade continued for two years, at the expiration of
which the French garrison, reduced almost to a state of
starvation, and after having suffered whatever human
nature is capable of enduring, capitulated to the Englis.h
on honourable terms. In 1802, at the peace of Amiens,
the island was conditionally restored to the Knights, but
at the earnest remonstrances of the natives against having
their liberties and possessions again committed to the
guardianship of such faithless defenders. Great Britain
continued to retain possession of. it until the general
peace of 1814, when it was confirmed to her by the
treaty ratified at the city of Paris.
The order of the Knights of Malta is now nearly ex
tinct, and it is not probable that it will ever be revived.
A solitary survivor remains at Malta, and I know not
but a few stragglers may still be scattered in different
parts of Europe; but in a few years, not one will be
« left alive" to tell the tale of their glory and disgrace.

IN THE NAVT. 127
On the twenty-first, both ships "got under weigh, and
on the morning ofthe twenty-fifth, the bay of Navarino
and the coasts of Messina ahd Laconia, and the distant,
snow-capped summits of Taygetus, were full in sight.
We had a light breeze, a smooth sea and a cloudless sky.
Ever}'' sail that would draw, even to the royal studding
sails, was set We sailed all day along the southern
coast of Greece, — a wild, rocky, iron-bound region,
with here and there a miserable little village, planted in
the midst of desolatio'n. There was not, therefore, much
in the scenery itself to awaken interest, but it was Gre
cian soil, and that was enough: the burial-places of me
mory gave up their deaA^ .
W^e were becalmed a little after sunset, near the en
trance of the narrow passage between the main land and
the island of Cerigo, the ancient Cythera. The approach
of evening was indescribably beautiful. The glowing
splendours of day seemed to melt imperceptibly into the
milder radiance of night, and when the last traces of
twilight had disappeared from the west, the sky, unob-
scured by the lightest cloud, was so pure that the very
stars appeared to be parts of the same shining vault, dif
fering from the rest only in their superior brilliancy.
About ten o'clock, the full moon shot up from behind
the rugged cliffs of Cerigo, so soft, so tranquil, so lovely
and so pure, that a lively imagination might have fancied
it beheld the goddess of Beauty rising from the ocean-
foam, and advancing to take possession of the island,
destined to be for ever associated with her name.
On the following morning the wind sprang up in a
direction that rendered it impossible for us to lay through
the passage, and, in order to pass to the southward of
Cerigo, we spent the whole day in beating to windward
of it. The ancient port of this island was Scandea, and
here the Phcenician and Egyptian sailors used to stop on
their voyages to the west, to pay their devoirs to the
goddess whose worship they had introduced into Greece.
The town of Cythera, where stood the most ancient and
venerated temple of Venus in Greece, was about ten sta
dia from the-port. The statue of the goddess, preserved

128 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
in that temple, was of rude workmanship and unseemly
proportions, an^ clad in armour from head to foot, — a
circumstance that proves it to have been of high anti
quity. . Some insignificant remains of the city are said
still to be visible; The name of Cythera awakens smil
ing images and tender thoughts; but the classic voyager
who approaches it for the first time, and beholds the
rocky, sterile, dreary aspect which it presents, feels an
instinctive disposition to appdaud the taste of the Goddess
of Love and Beauty, who, though she rose from the foam
of the sea near this island, and first sought au abode upon
its shores, soon abandoned it fo its original inhabitants,
who were too avaricious to feeU-or acknowledge her do
minion, and fled to the softer clime, the lovelier vales
and the more congenial spirits of Cyprus.
Nearly opposite the island of Cerigo, we had a view
of the anefent port and promontory of Tenarum. On the
latter, as on almost all the promontories of Greece, stood
a temple, dedicated to Neptune. Near this temple there
was a cavern fabled to have been one of the five descents
to hell; and for which the priests of Neptune, who minis
tered there, claimed the peculiar honour of having been
the one, where Hercules overcame the three-headed
monster Cerberus, and through which Orpheus brought
back his wife Euridice. ¦*"¦
Cerigo is the southernmost of those islands, compre
hended in the Ionian group, and is of course under Bri
tish protection. We saw the bloody cross of St. George
waving over the little capital of the island, situated on
an eminence at some distance from the sea.
A little after night-fall, just as we were doubling the
southern extremity of Cerigo, the breeze suddenly fresh
ened up to a gale, the upper masts were immediately
housed, all the canvass was furled except the fore and
main topsails, which were close-reefed, and thus we en
tered the Archipelago, "riding on tlie whirlwind," if
not " directing the storm." It was indeed a sublime
and a beautiful scene. The clouds, wild, silvery and
broken; the stars, seen in little groups on spots of azure
purity; the queen of night, now concealed by passing

IN THE NAVT. 129
Vapours, and now peering from behind them in all her
native loveliness; the dark blue waters of the JEgean,
lashed to a sheet of foam, and rolling their angry waves
in rapid succession; the roar ofthe winds, as they swept
through the rigging of the vessel, and over the surface of
the waters; and last of all, the gallant ship herself, dash
ing on through the warring elements, as if in the pride
of conscious majesty, and the confidence of undoubting
security, — were features of the picture, which justify the
epithets applied to it And what new interest was given
to a scene, so absorbing in itself, -by the thought that we
were on Grecian waters, canopied by Grecian skies, and
in sight of places consecrated by the Grecian Muse!
Early the next morning, we were off the island of
Milo, and the union jack was hoisted at the fore-top-mast
head for a pilot. The town of Milo stands on the very
summit of a high conical mountain, and may well be de
nominated a " city set on a hill, whose light cannot be
hid." It is inhabited principally by pilots, who are em
ployed by nearly all the vessels, merchantmen as well as
men of war, that navigate the waters of the Archipelago.
Each of our public vessels always has two on board.
Their compensation is thirty dollars per month and two
rations. When the boat came alongside with our pilots,
we were all struck with the fine appearance of the men
employed to manage her; — an appearance so different
from that of persons of the same class in Italy and Spain.
The Greeks are certainly the noblest-looking race of men
I ever saw.
We filled away again between nine and ten o'clock,
with a fresh breeze dead aft, and before sunset the last
of the Cyclades was astern of us, while far ahead could
be seen, dimly breakingv through the distance, the out
lines of " Scio's rocky Isle." All the islands composing
the group of the Cyclades, are rugged and rocky in the
extreme; but the sight of them awakened a thousand
beautiful recollections. Not to enumerate other islands
less distinguished, Naxos and Delos are names which fill
the mind of the scholar, even in the retirement of his
own closet, with enthusiasm. How then must the ima-
12*

130 TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT.
gination kindle and blaze, and the soul be touched and
warmed, as the strained eye catches the first glimpse of
these classic isles, — the birth-places and the abodes of the
Gods of Pleasure and of Poetry ! What images of glad
ness, gaiety and beauty crowd upon the mind! You
almost fancy that you see the gay procession of people,
assembled from all parts of Greece, to celebrate the birth
of Apollo and Diana, and listen to the songs and shouts
with which they make the air reverberate. But a nearer
approach dissolves the illusion. The temple of the Poet-
Crod, which once reared its proud columns of Parian
marhle on the shores of Delos, has disappeared; the city,
with its superb edifices, its elegant porticoes, and its
forest of columns, has shared the same fate; and the
Daughter of Latona no longer leads the vernal dance with
her wood nymphs on the Cynthian cliffs.
We passed through the Straits 6f Scio in the night,
and on the morning of the twenty-eighth, found our
selves near the entrance of the Gulf of Smyrna. What
a contrast in the scenery of Asia Minor' to that of the
Cyclades! Instead of shapeless rocks, wildly piled upon
each other, the eye was here gratified with the sight of
regular and fertile slopes, extending several miles in suc
cession, and clothed in a cpvering of the richest verdure.
After we entered the Gulf of Smyrna, we were two
days in getting up to the town, having been obliged to
come-to three different times. All the winds in the uni
verse seem to meet in that Gulf I have seen ships there
sailing in opposite directions within a few hundred paces
of each other, each with her yards nearly squared ; and it
has often happened on board the Constellation, that the
helm woulcl be ordered to be put down, and the ship
would come up to the wind till the sails began to shake,
but before the order was given to let go and haul, she
would fill away again with a fresh breeze on her quarter.

( 131 )

CHAPTER VII.

It was on Monday morning, the second of May, that,
in company with several other officers, I first set foot on
the shores of Asia, and in a city which contended more
strenuously than either of the other six for the honour of
having given birth to the Father of poetry and the Prince
of poets. What a crowd of beautiful and mournful re
miniscences does it awaken in the mind, to land for the
first time upon the coast of Asia Minor; — a coast once
peopled by the haughty Trojan, the luxurious Lydian,
and the ingenious, cultivated, etherial Greek; the birth
place of many of the most exalted geniuses that have
ever appeared to shine on the pathway of the vulgar herd
of men; adorned with cities and monuments, at once the
perfection of taste and the triumph of art; the theatre of
apostolic labours and apostolic success; but now utterly
changed in the elements of society, and in those physical
appearances which depend upon the hand of man ; pre
senting, instead of regions enlivened by a dense popula
tion and smiling beneath the hand of cultivation, im
mense tracts of territory, characterised by cheerless steri
lity, and as destitute of inhabitants as the site of Babylon;
sprinkled, not with marble cities adorned by taste and
genius, but with filthy, mud-hut villages; and peopled
by a race of men, possessing indeed some sterling quali
ties, but still ignorant, bigoted, haughty and vindictive,
and not less separated from the rest of the world in their
sympathies, than by the peculiar dogmas of their re
ligion. Such are the natural associations of place which pre
sent themselves to the mind of the traveller on ap
proaching this coast, but they are violently interrupted
the moment he sets foot oh the quay in Smyrna. So
at least it was with us. We were instantly surrounded

132 TWO TEARS and' A HALF
by some dozen Jews and about an equal number of
Greeks, who offered their services, or rather undertook
to force themselves upon us, as guides and interpreters.
" Do you wish to see the bazars — would you like to
purchase some an,g-o>'a .^-^they'll cheat you if you go
alone — they'll ask you twice as much as they would me
— I know where all the best shops are" — and a little in
finity of like questions and declarations were poured,
without mercy, into our ears. These rogues who make
it their business to show strangers the lions, are the
greatest annoyance — -barring the fleas and multipeds —
that Smyrna contains. The Jews especially are beyond
all endurance. It is sometimes impossible to get rid of
them. Dr.  and myself were one day beset by one
of these fellows, who insisted upon accompanying us.
We turned every corner fo dodge him, but without suc
cess. At last the , doctor's wrath was kindled, and he
gave him a sound beating with his fists. The tame-
spirited Israelite crouched down beneath it without mak
ing the slightest resistence, or uttering a syllable of com
pliant. In the course of the afternoon, we met him again
in another part of the town, and he renewed the proffer
of his services, but did not deem it prudent to urge our
acceptance quite so perseveringly as before.

Having letters of introducton to Mr. Brewer, imme
diately on landing, I called on him at his residence,
which was between Frank Street and the Marina. His
house was the first I had seen, since entering the Medi
terranean, with wooden stairs and floors, and it had the
oddest appearance that can be imagined. '
I received a hearty welcome from Mr. B. and his fami
ly, and soon found myself at home there. Mr. B. is em
ployed as a missionary by a society of ladies in New
Haven, and the primary object of his mission is the edu
cation of Greek females. He is known to the world as
the author of an interesting work on Turkey, the result
of his observations while employed as a travelling mis
sionary by the American Board. His character is

IN THE NAVT. 133
marked b^mildness, modesty, good sense and unaffect
ed piety. Tiis wife is uncommonly beautiful, and a wo
man of the finest intelligence and most fascinating man
ners. Associated with Mr. B. in his enterprise, and' a
member of his family, is a Miss Reynolds, — a young
lady possessing high qualifications for her station in
point of talent, cultivation and piety. A brother of
Mrs. B.'s, a lad of spirit and promise, and two or three
charming little children, completed the family circle,
and it was one of the happiest and most agreeable I have
ever known. Mr. J. of the Boston, my friend and com
panion, knew them intimately before he left the United
States, and while we remained in Smyrna, we used to
spend almost all our evenings under their hospitable roof
We were often gratified at seeing the little groups
of black-eyed, dark-complexioned, intelligent-looking
Greek girls, who would enter the house with trifling
presents of fruits or flowers, and who seemed to cherish
towards their benefactors the affection of daughters.
There was one who spent nearly all her days in the fami
ly, for the purpose of learning embroidery and English,
and whose truly classic face, whose modest and sprightly
manners, and lisping English, pronounced with a voice
of uncommon richness, and in tones of faltering distrust,
could not have failed to awaken an interest even in one
who had never heard of her progenitors.
Mr. Brewer and Miss Reynolds have generously
given up the whole of their salaries to the support of
the Greek schools, and gain a livelihood for themselves
by keeping a Frank school, for which they have been
guaranteed two hundred pounds a year for five years.
This school is made up of the children of European and
American merchants, and is the first of the kind ever
known in Smyrna. The pupils of different sexes
have separate apartments, and form interesting groups.
They dress in the costumes of their different countries,
and the conversation of those who belong to each nation
is usually carried on in their own language; but the com
mon medium of communication is the modern Greek,
One of Mr. B's pupils was an Armenian, by the name of

134 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Tackvor, who was learning English, and who interested
greatly all our officers. He was a young man of about
twenty, with dark eyes and intelligent features, of mild
and engaging manners, and a disposition full of kindness
and sincerity. We were greatly indebted to him for the
services he rendered us as interpreter in our intercourse
with the Turks, and as a guide in showing us the curi
osities ofthe place.
During our stay in Smyrna, I often visited the Greek
female schools under Mr. B.'s charge, and was not more
delighted than surprised at the order with which they
were conducted, the eager desire of knowledge which
the pupils appeared to feel, and the rapid progress they
made in their studies. They were conducted on the
Lancasterian plan, by native teachers, and the children
were instructed not only in all the branches taught in
our own common schools, but in knitting, needle-work,
embroidery, &c. I saw little girls, who had been at
tached to the schools only a few months, who could
write a fair hand and read with tolerable facility in the
Testament. The needle-work of some of the older girls
would scarcely have discredited any lady in the United
States. The whole number of children in all the schools
was somewhat rising of two hundred.
Mr. Brewer's schools were the first ever established in
Smyrna, — at least in modern times, — for the cultivation
of the female mind. They threw the whole Smyrniot
population into amazement. Females — by the servile
Greek as well as by the haughty, self-complacent Oth
man regarded as the mere slaves and playthings of man
— females capable of intellectual culture and refinement!
The thing was unheard of, and produced a dreadful
whirling in men's ideas of truth and propriety. But the
experiment Was confidently made, and has succeeded
even beyond the anticipation of its authors. Its effects
are not limited to the schools which Mr. B, has estab
lished, but are seen also in the revolution they have ef
fected in public sentiment, and the consequent exertions
made on the part of many of the more wealthy and re
spectable Greeks to educate their daughters.
The education of boys was not before altogether ne-

IN THE NAVy. 135
glected; but a new impulse has been given to this also,
and several male schools have recently been established,
which I visited with great pleasure. The principal es
tablishment for the education of Greek lads is the Col
lege of Abraham, — a talented and learned Armenian
Greek, whose character is marked by great originality,
and whose history is strongly spiced with the romantic.
Possessing an inquisitive and energetic mind; at first a
devotee — then an infidel — and finally a consistent be
liever; his orbit has heen eccentric and devious to the
last degree; but throughout the whole of it he has re
tained two master sentiments — an enthusiast's love of
Grecian literature, and a patriot's devotion to Grecian
liberty. He is profoundly read in his country's classics;
and the wish that his countrymen may again imbibe the
generous spirit, and emulate the heroic virtues, and rival
the intellectual supremacy of their ancestors, has been
so long and so deeply cherished, that it has become a
part of his being. His school is large, though I cannot
give the exact number of pupils, as, by some unaccount
able inadvertency, I omitted to insert it in my notes.
It is very flourishing, and supplies in part the loss of
that invaluable institlition, the College of Scio.
There is also in Smyrna a school for Armenian boys,
numbering, when we were there, about one hundred
and fifty pupils, — besides several for the sons of the
Faithful.

Besides Mr. Brewer's family, there are several others
of American merchants, chiefly from Boston and New
York; and it is a singular circumstance, that, on the
coast of Asia and in the heart of the Turkish Empire,
we should have met with a heartier welcome, and found
more that reminded us of home, than we had in any
part of Christian Europe. The American society at
Smyrna is intelligent, cultivated and agreeable; and they
live there like members of the same family. The thought
of the vast distance at which they are placed from their
own particular friends, draws them closer to each other,

136 TWO TEARS AND A" HALF
and their intercourse is marked by the familiarity and
harmony of brethren. They have a way there of call
ing their servants, odd enough to one who has never
been in-Turkey, which is by a loud clapping of hands.
There is also at Smyrna a large and select society of
English, French and Italian merchants. In winter that
seat of Eastern commerce is as gay as the Gallic capital ;
and the assembly rooms of the Casino glitter with the
fashion, and echo to the revelry of the merry Christians,
whose pleasures are not a whit dampened or disturbed
by the gloomy reign of Islamism. The Frank merchants
have a reading-room in one of the halls of the Casino,
well supplied with the current news from all parts ofthe
globe, and it affords to the stranger as- well as to the re
sident one of the most agreeable lounges in Smyrna.

Smyrna, in its physical appearance and moral ele
ments, is a place sui generis — distinct and different from
all others on the face of the globe. Seen at a distance,
it appears to merit the epithets — " glory of Asia" — « Is-
mirthe lovely" — applied to it by ancient writers; but itis
only at a distance that it is "glorious" and "lovely."
The immense mass of buildings, of various colours and
nearly all visible in the approach; the graceful minarets
and muezzin towers that shoot up above them ; and more
than all, the vast cypress groves, climbing to the hea
vens, and waving in pensive beauty over the Moham
medan burial-places, naturally cause the stranger to form
high expectations; hut the instant he enters the place,
the fairy net-work of thfe fancy is broken, and he per
ceives that its three great characteristics are disgusting
odours, miserable architecture, and filthy lanes, there
dignified, by some unaccountable misnomer, with the
name of streets. The houses are fgr the most part built
of wood, two stories high, with huge balconies on the
second story, projecting so as almost to meet over the
centre of their narrow streets. Those of the Turks all
have latticed windows, through which we could some
times catch a rapid and imperfect view of a Turkish

IN THE NAVT. 1 37
beauty, who, if she perceived that she was discovered,
would vanish with the swiftness of lightning. But
Smyrna is peopled by so many different tribes, and has
been so often destroyed and rebuilt, that its architecture
is of a motley character, presenting specimens of the va
rying styles of almost every age and nation. When we
arrived there, the passover had just been celebrated; and
we could distinguish the houses of the Greeks and Arme
nians by the festoons of flowers with which the outsides
of their windows were adorned.
The different sections of Smyrna are known by the ap
pellation of Quarters. Thus you hear of Frank quarter,
Turkish quarter, Armenian quarter, &c.; and although
these different sections are not exclusively inhabited by
the nations whose names they bear, yet they are chiefly
so. Frank quarter is along the Marina: with the other
localities I am not sufficiently familiar to point them
out. The three parts ofthe town particularly deserving of at
tention are the Marina, Frank street and the Bazars. The
former would furnish one of the finest schools that could
be desired by a moral painter. The distinctive features
of almost every nation of the East, and the whole wide
range of human passions, modified by as wide a range of
accidents, would there be open to his inspection. The
keen eye of a Hogarth would discover much in this di
versified field, which his graphic pencil might tran.sfer
to the canvass to amuse and instruct the world. The
only promenade within the city is along one part of
the Marina.
Frank street traverses nearly the whole of the city in
a winding direction. It is narrow, filthy and without
attractions of any kind. The Bazars are the only part
of the town that approaches to the beautiful. These
are numerous and extensive, and, the streets on which
they stand being covered, present the appearance of vast
halls, indented on each side with a succession of little
alcoves. They are clean, cool and airy. Each street of
them is appropriated to a single class of merchandise,
and the quantity they display is beyond all credibility.
VOL. II. 13

138 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
The generality ofthe streets in Smyrna are so narrow
that a camel cannot be passed on horseback, and when
he lies down to have his load removed, he usually blocks
up the jiass completely. '

The architecture of Smyrna is not more various than
its inhabitants. It is astonishing to observe the great
diversity and entire distinctness of national character,
costume and physiognomy, that distinguish that place.
One week's residence there is enough to enable you to
determine, with almost infallible certainty, to what na
tion every man that meets you in the street, belongs.
The Moslem is known by his dignity, his arms and
his high red flannel cap, — the Armenian by his huge
calpec, his regular features, and his good-natured, mer
chant-like air, — the Jew by his close-folded, checkered
calico turban, his sharp physiognomy, his arch, spark
ling black eye, and his fawn-like activity, — the Greek
hy his greasy red flannel skull-cap, his elastic tread, his
large rich eye, his symmetrical form, and his everlasting
restlessness, — whilst all, of every nation and from eve
ry clime, who mount the European hat, are ranged un
der the general, heterogeneous, nondescript class of
Franks.
It is amusing to visit the bazars, and observe how the
shopkeepers of different nations employ their leisure
during the intervals of business. The Turk, squatted
on his divan, whiffs his much loved chibouque, or sips
the precious juice of his idol plant: the Armenian lies
cozily upon his oars, with his eye still alert, and an evi
dent anxiety to be counting the money for his merchan
dise: the Jew employs «very moment in some useful
occupation: and the Greek bawls out to every passer
by to know if he does not wish to purchase of his wares.
They called all our officers by the common name of
"John;" and when we purchased any thing, generally
begged a few paras to drink our health. There is more
honesty among the Turks than any other class of
Smyrniot merchants. Vindictive, supercilious, and re-

IN THE NAVT. 139
gardless of the feelings of their fellow-men, they are
nevertheless above the commission of petty frauds.
The Armenians also are tolerably fair in their dealings;
but he who deals with an Israelite or a Greek, let him
look well to his purse strings, and trust to nothing but
his own eyes and judgment I had a commission from
an apothecary in Mahon to procure a quantity of opium.
A Jew, with whom I undertook to negotiate the pur
chase, when demanding nearly twice the real value of
his opium, swore "by the sacred law of his father
Moses," that he believed I could not get it of any other
merchant in Smyrna at so moderate a price as he offer
ed it

I was introduced by Mr. Brewer to a number of
Greek and Armenian families. Sweetmeats, lemonade
and pipes were usually offered to us, when we visited
them. In the warm climate of Asia Minor, iced lem
onade is the most delicious of drinks. The lemons of
Smyrna are the largest and most juicy I have ever
seen, and they generally squeeze two or three into a sin
gle glass, sherbet is a fashionable Eastern drink, and is
sold at the corner of almost every street in Smyrna.
Attention is usually attracted to the stands where it is sold
by the clattering of a little wheel, turned by a continual
dripping of the liquor. It is not a beverage that I would
ever drink, where lemonade was to be procured.
Those of my countrymen who contributed any thing
to aid the poor Greeks in their recent struggle for
emancipation from Turkish thraldom, may rest assured
that their beneficence is remembered and often spoken
of with gratitude, by the subjects of it. " Good
Americans" — " Generous Airiericans" — " Kind-heart
ed, sympathizing Americans" — were the epithets with
which we were greeted, not only in Smyrna, but in all
parts of Greece and her Islands.
The Greeks resident at Smyrna are greatly oppressed
by the Turks. These latter hate them more than ever
since the revolution, and as they are the masters, their

140 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
hatred of course has a tendency to make the other resi
dents eye them with more jealousy and disrespect ,
They are reminded of their servitude in a thousand ways
and at almost every moment — in the deprivation of
their rights — in the indignities daily heaped upon them
in the public streets by their scornful masters — and in
the confiscation of their property. They are not al
lowed to go armed, nor to wear the red flannel cap, re
cently adopted by the fashionable Moslems in place of
the now antiquated turban. Their possessions are held
by the feeblest tenure, and they live in eternal appre
hension of having them wrested from them under
colour of pretended crimes. I have often heard them
speak with strong emotion of their degraded and preca
rious condition; but they cannot tear themselves away
from the scenes and associations of their childhood, _even
though it be to seek a safer home in a country inhabited
only by their kindred. The modern Greeks certainly
possess many ofthe distinguishing qualities of their an
cestors; and such is the elastic spring of their spirits,
that they cannot be chained by oppression, but, though
temporarily depressed, they soon bound upward again
to their own etherial region.

On Tuesday, the seventeenth, Mr. J., of the Boston,
and myself, with Mr. Brewer's Armenian pupil for an
interpreter, paid a visit to the Pacha's eldest son, who is
governor of the city. His residence is in his father's
palace, which occupies an elevated site in the south-west
part of the town, and so near to the water's edge as to
enjoy the full benefit of that greatest of luxuries at
Smyrna — the daily inbat* from the ./Egean. The pre
sent palace was built only a few years ago, and is three
stories in height The lower part of it is occupied for a
prison, but the two upper stories are finished in the true
style of Oriental architecture — light, graceful and airy.
The height of the windows is nearly equal to that of the
* Sea breeze.

IN THE NAVT. 141
walls, and the spaces between them are very narrow.
The apartments of the seraglio are indicated by the ele
gant lattice-work of their windows.
We were conducted up one flight of stairs, and at the
door of the Governor's apartment our interpreter took
off his slippers, but told us to keep our boots on. We
were announced as in attendance, and instantly invited
to enter. Our Armenian advanced, fell on his knees,
and kissed the gubernatorial robe, while the haughty
but complaisant Othman extended to each of us his fat,
pulpy hand, and condescended to honour us with a dig
nified smile and a gracious bow. He was a middle-aged
man, of noble figure and commanding mien, with un
common energy of expression, and dressed in the style
of a rich luxurious Turk. His room was an oblong
apartment facing the bay, surrounded by a beautiful
cushioned divan, with an elegant marble pavement, and
a fountain of cool transparent water playing at one end
of it. Coffee was immediately served in little China cups
with gilt edges, made in the shape of an egg-shell cut in
two in the middle, and placed in small silver holders in
order to be handed round. Then followed smoking with
long chibouques of wood, with bright silver bowls and
huge transparent amber mouth-pieces. Next came large
goblets of lemonade, clear as spring water, which a
happy mixture of sweet and sour made vastly agreea
ble to the palate. The pipes were replenished as often
as a deficiency in their contents made it necess&ry.
Our host poured out torrents of compliments to the
Americans, which we of course had the politeness to re
pay in kind and quantity. There was no stiffness in his
manner, and no reserve in his conversation. He made
numerous inquiries of us in relation to our trip to Sardis,
and seemed delighted to hear that we preferred Smyrna
to Magnesia. It was, however, only during the inter
vals of business that he conversed with us; for his palace
was thronged with his subjects, who came to spread
their cases before him, either for redress or justification.
All who approached him saluted his robe on bended
knees, and, having performed this requisite act of sub-
13 «

142 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
missive deference, they were graciously permitted to
rise, and stand up in his presence. They would then
state their cases to him in the most respectful manner,
but with great earnestness and animation, gesticulat
ing with much violence, and often very gracefully.
The cautious Moslem scarcely ever failed to institute a
sort of laviryer-like inquisition, but when the facts were
all before him, he decided with surprising promptness^
I shall never forget one scene that occurred, while there.
A Jew entered the hall, advanced and went through
with the necessary marks of respect, and then, v^rith evi
dent agitation, placed a paper in the Governor's hand.
He glanced his eye over what was written on the out
side, and instantly hurled it from him with great vio
lence and a look of ineffable scorn. The poor Israelite
picked up his manuscript, and slunk out of the apart
ment. Our visit at the palace being ended, we went to see
the new Turkish Barracks, only a short distance off.
They are well built, commodious, and kept with tolera
ble cleanliness. The soldiers wear the European trow-
sers, which, as they are not yet accustomed to it, makes
them appear stiff and awkward. We called upon one
of the officers, a young dandy sort of a fellow, who re
ceived us with great politeness, and was as pert and
talkative as a Frenchman. His apartment was without
a single ornament, and surrounded by a board divan,
covered only with a mat. Coffee, pipes and lemonade
were served, though in a style" somewhat less ostenta
tious than that with which we had been treated at the
palace. Our Commissary was dressed in the present
mihtary costume of Turkey, — half Moslem half Chris
tian. He displayed his whole wardrobe to us with the
most perfect naivete, and we saw there — what neither
of us had ever expected to see in such a place — a quan
tity oi false collars. He descanted with great flippancy
on the superiority of the new over the old costume, not
forgetting to mention a circumstance of great importance
to the labour-hating Turk, that he could now dress with
much greater despatch than formerly. But whatever

IN THE NAVT. 143
the Turks maj"- have gained by this innovation, they
have lost much on the score of personal beauty. In the
multitude of his exhibitions, our host did not omit to
point out to us the mode he had adopted to rid himself
of the annoyance of a certain animal very common in
Smyrna. This was by placing the feet of his bedstead
in small vessels filled with water. The quantity of
these animals in all Eastern cities is frightful. Mr.
Brewer assured us that once, after he had made a visit
to a very respectable family in Smj^rna, on his return
home, fifty of them were found in his clothes.
It is well that the Koran inculcates personal cleanliness,
for a want of this, added to the filth of their cities and
houses, cotild scarcely fail of generating epidemics, that
would sweep the whole Ottoman race from the earth. It
is one of the most interesting sights in Smyrna to see the
Moslems, when the hour of prayer is sounded from the
tops of the Muezzin towers, performing their evening
ablutions at the various fountains, scattered through the
city.

The Mosques in Smyrna are neither as numerous nor
as beautiful as in most other Mohammedan cities. The
Smyrniot Turks, however, pride themselves much on the
new Mosque, where the Pacha worships, called Hiss-
hargiamisi. Its exterior is ornamented with black and
white marble, said to have been obtained by rifling
Christian burial-places; ahd its shape is that of an oblong
rectangle, differing only slightly from a square. As the
Mohammedans in Smyrna are much less bigoted and
exclusive than those of Barbary, we had no difficulty in
getting admission, by the payment of a few piastres, and
the slight respect of taking off our shoes when we enter
ed. I visited it several times, and had an opportunity
not only of examining its architecture, but also of observ-'
ing the modes of Moslem worship.
The Mosque is supported by six immense stuccoed
pillars of the Composite Order. It has one grand central
dome, and eight smaller ones. There are two pulpits

144 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
on the side opposite the entrance,— one to be used at any
time, and the other only on their Sabbath, and on festi
val occasions. It receives its light through two hundred
windows, forty of which are in the great dome, and one
hundred in the other eight. Between the pulpits are
two windows in the shape of hearts, and ornamented, as
some of the others are also, with coloured glass. Up
wards of four hundred lamps are suspended in different
parts of the temple. The pavement is carpeted, and the
walls are adorned with stucco and filagree work, con
taining extracts from the Koran. Near one of the pul
pits there is a small painting of the City of Mecca, and
another of the Tomb of Mohammed. The colouring and
perspective are passable.
The forms of the Moslem worship, though they at
first strike a stranger somewhat singularl}', are simple,
solemn, and touching. They consist in a succession of
genuflexions and prostrations, accompanied with a low
murmur of confession and prayer. The worshipper
leaves his shoes and his turban behind, and stands with
his face toward the city of Mecca. He first makes a low
inclination of the head, then falls upon his knees, and
finally bows his forehead to the earth, pausing between
each different movement to pour his guilt and his desires
into the ears of Allah. The number of genuflexions and
prostrations, gone through with by each devotee, marks
the amount of his piety. The frequency with which the
forehead comes in contact with the earth, is supposed to
give it a certain callousness, which is closely scrutinized
at the Gates of Paradise.

There are in Smyrna a Catholic, an Armenian, two
Greek Churches, and several Jewish Synagogues. The
architecture of the Greek Churches in the East, is
generally in wretched taste, and their ornaments consist
of a profusion of carved work, gilding, and daubs of
tutelary saints. The Greek worship, though equally
formal, has none of the imposing splendours of the
Catholic. The dresses of the ecclesiastics are black, and

IN THE NAVT. 145
have a mean appearance, and their low brimless hats give
them a sort of harlequin appearance. Near the door of
the Greek Churches, there are always pictures of our
Saviour and the Virgin, which on entering and going
away, every worshipper kneels and kisses. The more
devout may frequently be seen engaged for fifteen or
twenty minutes in continual genuflexions and kissings.
The sprinkling of incense constitutes one of the most
important parts of the Greek service. The censor is
shaken under the nose of each individual, who, as he
inhales its fragrant fumes, bows his head almost to the
earth. Women are not allowed to worship in the same
part of the church with the men: it is too honourable
a place for them.
The Armenian worship occupies a middle ground be
tween the Turkish and the Greek, partaking of the cha
racteristics of both. The walls of the court in front of the
Armenian church at Smyrna are ornamented with a
great variety of religious pictures. The most remarka
ble are those representing the Last Judgment, the Arch
angel Michael in conflict with the Dragon, and the Rich
Man and Lazarus both before and after death. They are
executed with some force of expression, but are as stiff
as a board, and all horribly bedizened with gilding. The
Rich Man is represented under the figure of a luxurious
old Turk. The Armenian burying ground is in an
enclosure encircling the church. The tomb-stones are
all placed horizontally over the graves, and generally
contain devices representing the profession of the per
sons whom they commemorate.

One ofthe most striking, and certainly the most beau
tiful feature in Smyrna, is the extensive cypress groves,
that overshadow the burial-places of the followers of the
Prophet, situated at the two extremities of the town.
That on the north-east side, beyond the river Meles, is
much the largest, lining each side ofthe street for nearly
half a mile with its luxuriant foliage and its deep undy
ing verdure. The palm tree does not flourish out of

146 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Africa, and the cypress finds its most congenial soil on
the shores of Asia. In its perfection, it is at once the
most beautiful and the most melancholy of trees. Its'
shape, from the part where the branches commence, is
that of a slender and gently tapered cone; its height
rivals the flight of the eagle; its foliage is impervious to
the sun, and of a dark rich green; and the breezes that
play among the groves that shade the Moslem's last rest
ing place, cause them to wave with an effect inexpressi
bly solemn, pensive, and soothing, and occasion sounds
which, in the deep stillness of midnight, might easily be
mistaken for the sighs of bereavement.
The Turkish tomb-stones are generally round, with
a spiral groove running from the top to the bottom, and
those of the men are all surmounted by a turban. Their
burial places are usually the most fashionable promenades
in their cities; and veiled females are often seen decking
with flowers and watering with tears the graves of de
parted friends. How heart-rending miist it be for a
Turkish female who loves her lord, to impress the last
kiss upon his cold and quivering lips, and how cheerless
to visit the spot that covers his remains ! To her, the
dying embrace is an everlasting farewell. No glimmer
of a re-union in another world relieves the darkness of
her bereavement, and no fluttering hope of catching
another glance at his cherished features, soothes the an
guish of her despair. Through life a slave, in death she
has the dreary prospect of an eternal separation from him
she loves, embittered bjr the belief that he is indeed to
burst the fetters of the grave, and rise in immortal vigour
and beauty, but no longer to take delight in her person
or her society. Her charms are to give place to beau
ties of a higher order, and the Houris that crowd the
bovi^ers of Paradise, are to make up the pastimes of eter
nity. 0 Christianity ! were thy sublimest truths but a
gilded phantom, he would be the deadliest foe to his
species, who should seek to tear from before their eyes
the blessed illusion. If the religion of the Bible had no
other claims to our regard and respect than that of rais
ing females to their proper rank and influence in society.

IN THE NAVT. 147
how heavy would be our obligations to it! Let the ele
vation of their sex be a motive with my fair countrywo-
.men for redoubling their efforts to difi"use the light and
blessings of Christianity over every portion of the globe.

The recollections connected with Symrna are of a di-
A^ersified and deeply interesting character; but the'anti-
quities found there are insignificant, and may be soon
described. The classic IMeles still flows, with a music
as sweet and a beauty as enchanting, as when its inspi
ration poured divinity into the lays of the Chian Bard.
On its banks are pointed out to the stranger the site of
the temple of Diana, and the cave where Homer is said
to have composed his Iliad. Just above the town are
some uninteresting remains of the ancient theatre; and
the lofty hill, the Mount Pagus of antiquity, that rises
in its rear, is crowned with the ruins of an old deserted
castle. In the» walls may be distinctly traced three
different periods of erection. The foundations are at
tributed to Alexander, — the second part to a Roman
General of the Lower Empire, — and the last to the
Venetian Republic. Near one of the gates, there is,
inserted in the walls, an antique marble head of colossal
size, by some supposed to be that of the Amazon Smyrna,
and by others one of Apollo. It is so defaced that the
lineaments cannot be traced, and no judgment can be
formed of the merits of the sculpture. The view from
the top of the walls is commanding, and highly beautiful.
The gulf, the city, and the plains of Smyrna, with their
ships, their minarets, their cypress groves, their streams,
and their villages, and the rocky sides and towering sum
mits of Sipylus, Corax, and other mountains celebrated
in the writings of antiquity, afford a prospect, which can
not fail to awaken a deep and enthusiastic interest.
One of the seven churches of Asia is supposed to have
occupied a site near the summit of Mount Pagus, but no
remains are left to mark it. The form of the amphi
theatre where St. Polycarp suffered martyrdom, can still
be traced.

148 TWO YEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVY.
On our return from the castle, we passed the grave of
a Mohammedan Saint. The monument, a plain block
of marble, was completely covered with linen and cotton
rags. These had been fastened to it by devotees, who
expected thereby to imbibe the virtues and secure the
influence in heaven of the deceased. A number of Turk
ish boys were collected near the grave. They beset us
for money, and when they found it was refused, they
commenced pelting us with stones. We passed also se
veral groups of unveiled, sprightly Turkish girls, whose
finger nails were all stained of a dark brown colour, and
whose hair hung in a thousand braids behind.

( 149 )

CHAPTER VHI.

On Wednesday, the fourth of May, Mr. J. of the
Boston, Dr. C. of the Constellation, and myself set off
on an excursion tp Sardis. Mr. Brewer, who knew well
the requisites for travelling in Asia Minor, had kindly
provided every thing necessary for our journey, on the
preceding day, and Mrs. B. had arranged the wiole as
nicely and witii as much interest, as if we had been her
own children. Our provision bags contained a knife and
fork for each of the party, a tin mug, a small wooden
kid, a half dozen pork tongues, a piede of boiled ham,
three or four brown loaves and a quantity of sea biscuit,
two dozen boiled eggs, a paper of salt and another of
sugar, and a supply of lemons till we reached Magnesia.
The horses had been ordered at sunrise. We were at
the appointed rendezvous at the proper hour, and had
the pleasure of experiencing a specimen of Turkish punc
tuality in waiting till noon for the arrival of our beasts.
We were not -long in lashing our cloaks and bed clothes
to the saddles, and mounting upon the hacks of our steeds.
The clattering of their flat shoes over the rough pave
ments of Smyrna and the anticipations of our journey
soon restored our irritated nerves to their natural state.
When we were fairly out of town, so that we had an
opportunity of surveying our party and observing the
appearance we made, it would have been difficult, had
we attempted it, to repress our laughter; but having no
inducement to make such an attempt, we gave full vent
to our risible propensitiesi First there were ourselves
mounted on coursers that looked as if the first crow
we met with would dispute the possession of them with
us. They were caparisoned with saddles — genuine
antiques — just long enough to admit of being comfort
ably seated upon them, with perpendicular walls about a
VOL, IL 14

150 ^ TWO TEARS AND A HALF
foot high both before and behind, and long iron plates
with elevated edges for stirrups. Our whips were straps »
of braided leather, fastened to the reins of the bridles.
Then there was Antonio, a young Greek employed as
teacher in one of Mr. Brewer's schools, who accompani-
ed^us in the capacity of interpreter. He was dressed in
Turkish costume, of a muscular, well proportioned frame
and a genuine olive complexion, with keen black eyes,
and a graver expression of countenance than belongs to
most of his countrymen. Last of all came our Surigee,
Memet, — a perfect nondescript, — a being who might
easily enough have been mistaken for one ofthe imps of
the lower regions, had it not been for an eternal smirk
that was playing onhis countenance. He was large and
bony; his- complexion a deep brown; his beard jet black;
coarse and curly; and his harsh but good-natured features
indicated an utter vacancy of thought. He was a true-
blue Moslem. I once offered him my razor, at the same
time making a motion for him to shave. He shrugged
up his shoulders, and drily pointed to a dog that was '
standing near. At another time I motioned him to
sit like a Christian with one knee over the other. In this
case he was less scrupulous, and made the attempt He
would first grasp one leg and then the other, exerting
himself to the utmost to bring it to the right point, but
he was at last compelled to give it up for a bad business.
The only mode of reckoning distances in the East is
by hours. The rate of travelling is regulated by the
caravans of camels. These go about three miles an hour.
In travelling on horseback in Eastern countries, it is a
rare thing to go at 'any other gait than that of a walk;
Excessive heats and stony roads are the principal causes
of travelling so slow. Sardis is seventeen hours from
Smyrna, or about two days' journey.
^ We had a hot and dusty, but not uninteresting ride of
four hours through the rich and picturesque vale of
Smyrna, to the foot of Mount Sipylus. We met and
passed a number of caravans of camels, bringing the pro
ductions of the interior to Ismir, and carrying back the
merchandise of that emporium of commerce. Smyrna

IN THE NAVT. 151
supplies a circuit of several hundred miles with the
.various foreign commodities required for its consump
tion, and the whole vast amount is transported on the
backs of camels, an animal of prodigious strength and
endurance; and without which, in the present state
of society in the East, it would be almost impossible
to carry on the ordinary communications of life. In the
course of our journey we passed one caravan of upwards
of two hundred camels. This was made up of a great
number of smaller caravans, accidentally united by tra
velling the same direction, each of which was headed
by a jackass with a Turk mounted upon his back. The
camels composing each of the minor caravans were
tied to each other by means of halters fastened to the
saddles.

We stopped to dine at a little cafenet at the foot of
Sipylus. Our Surigee did not water his horses imme
diately, nor suffer them to stand still, but walked them
about for several minutes after we had dismounted. A
Turkish cafenet is a singular affair. It is the only kind
of public house met with in Turkey, with the exception
of the Khan in cities. In the country, on the great cara
van roads, these cafenets occur every few miles, and
wretched as they are, the jaded traveller finds them an
essential alleviation of the discomforts of travelling.
They are mud or stone huts, without floors, and generally
with only one small apartment, and little furniture except
a number of time-tinged chibouques, a set of gilt-edged
China coffee cups, with their little rusty snetallic holders,
and implements for preparing the precious Moslem
beverage. In front there is usually a small platform,
paved with round stones, and a sort of piazza commonly
covered with the branches of trees. Here the traveller
and the lounger recline together on dirty coarse reed
mats, and throughout the whole wide variety of life,
scarcely any scene could be selected fbr the canvass,
more characteristic than those often witnessed in~front of
the little country cafenet. Groups of idle Turks are col-

152 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
lected there at almost all hours of the day. Some of them
may be seen stretched upon the hard pavement, and
locked in deep slumbers; some are sipping the juice of
the plant of Mocha; others are whiffing away at their
pipes, with an air of supreme complacency in themselves
and utter indifference to all the world besides; while, on
a corner of the platform, a party of Christians are devour
ing their homely meal, each with his portion in his fin
gers, and all amusing themselves with remarks on their
own grotesque appearance, and the lazy, inane, and self-
important airs of their Moslem neighbours.
The Turks are a far less gloomy and ascetic race of
men than I had expected to find them. Grave, dighi-
fied, and reserved in their intercourse with foreigners,
among themselves they often relax to playfulness and
familiarity. I have often seen them in the cafenets,
chatting as merrily and laughing as heartily, as a group
of Christians under similar circumstances. Our Surigee
was singing songs by the way nearly half his time, and
we observed the same jovial turn in many others that we
either met or passed. That the Turks are as cheerful as
other nations, it Would be preposterous to assert; but that
they possess no social, generous, and playful traits, is
equally untrue. Nor in their intercourse with Christians,
so far as I have had opportunities of observing, do they
show any thing like disdain. That they feel it, cannot
be doubted; but their politeness leads them to disguise
their real sentiments. In our trip to Sardis, we were
Uniformly treated by them with more attention and re
spect than their own brethren.

We spread our dinner upon a mat in front of the cafe
net, and ate as heartily and with as good a relish as if
our table had been in the saloon of a palace. Travellers,
if they choose to be mean enough, are not obliged to feed
their Surigees. Our old man always partook with us, and
his whimsical appearance and everlasting oddities afford
ed us an infinite deal of amusement. He would not
touch the meat, and he was not over fond of sea-biscuit;

IN THE NAVT. 153
but he never refused a boiled egg, a mug of lemonade, or
a cup ofthe delectable liqueur. The method of making
coffee in Turkey is the following: the coffee is ground
fine, thrown into an open copper kettle, and the neces
sary quantity of water poured upon it It is then placed
over a fire of coals and stirred till sufficiently cooked,.
when it is poured, grounds and all, into little oval cups,
contained in metallic holders, and handed ta'guests or
customers. The Turks drink it without cream or sugar.
One soon becomes fond of coffee prepared in this way.

At five o'clock we set off and began the ascent. up the
first ridge of Sipylus. At its summit we paused a few
moments to enjoy the glorious prospect that met the eye
when turned in the direction of " Ismir the Lovely,"
and then commenced descending on the opposite side.
Soon after we left the cafenet, we were joined by a
party of five Greek merchants, who had been to Smyrna,
and were returning to their residences near Philadelphia.
They wore larger pantaloons and turbans, but carried no
arms, as the Greeks in Turkey are forbidden to do so.
They were all well formed, fine looking fellows, and as
full of jollity as if they had always been accustomed to
command instead of obey. One of them had an empty
glass bottle which he would often bring to his mouth and
make a pretence of drinking, and then smack his lips
with an air of satisfaction, such as we may suppose lighted
up the features of an ancient god, after he had quaffed a
cup of nectar. They bore us company all the way over
the mountain to Magnesia, and diverted us greatly with
their merry pranks. As Mr. J. spoke modern Greek
fluently, he bad a good deal of conversation with them.
There was no end to their talking.
About sunset we stopped at a cafenet near a mud-hut
village, to rest and bait our horses. Our Greeks got a
large pan of coagulated milk, round which they all seated
themselves on the floor, and, with wooden spoons that
looked as if they had not been washed for some centuries
back, commenced hostilities upon it. This, with a loaf
14*

154 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
of coarse gritty bread, made up the whole of their meal,
but they seemed perfectly contented, and ate as gleefully
as so many lords, seated round A table loaded with dain
ties. The scenery through which we passed after leaving
the cafenet at the foot of the mountain; was generally
wild, rugged and broken; being made up of precipices,
chasms, rocks and sterility. Several times we had to
dismount and lead our horses on account ofthe steepness
of the roads. We, however, passed a number of streams,
that flowed murmuring and meandering through narrow
strips of verdant and cultivated land, more lovely and
romantic from their contrast with the surrounding deso
lation. After evening had closed in upon us, we proceeded at
a round trot, and between ten and eleven o'clock, arrived
at Magnesia, bruised and exhausted by our ride. We
stopped at the only Khan in the place, and were cram
med, surigee, interpreter, baggage, arms, horse gear and
all, into an apartment on the second floor about fifteen
feek square, as filthy as a pig^stye, and without an article
of furniture of any kind. Here we spread our blankets,
and stretched ourselves upon the floor, to be tormented
by ten thousand fleas. These animals, millions of which
may be found in almost every house, are the greatest
drawback upon one's comfort in travelling in the East.
The natives seem scarcely to regard them as a nuisance.
Our eyes " prevented the morning," and we were up by
peep of day.
A Turkish Khan, or Caravan-Serai, as it is indiffer
ently called, is constructed in a style very similar to that
of a Catholic Convent It is built round a large open
court yard, with a corridor and colonnade to each story.
You generally enter the court through a long covered
passage, with a board divan on each side, on which, in
the cool of the day, are always seen two rows of Turks,
whiling away the idle hours with their eternal compa
nions, the pipe and the coffee cup. At one extremity of
the passage, you will see the proprietor, usually a fat,
glossy, well dressed Moslem, seated at the receipt of

IN THE NAVT. 155
custom, either dealing out coffee, or counting paras in
his huge wooden shovel. All the accommodations afford
ed by the best Caravan-Serai are a room to sleep in,
stables for your horses, and a cup of coffee. For provi
sion, bed, or blankets, the traveller would call in vain.
The Caravan-Serai was originally a purely charitable
establishment, enjoined by an express command of Mo
hammed, to facilitate the travels of pilgrims to and from
the city of Mecca. Lodgings only were furnished, and
the proprietors neither expected nor received any com
pensation, other than the benedictions and prayers of the
devotees, who honoured them with their company, the
approbation of the Prophet, and the smiles of Allah. In
process of time gratuities were offered and accepted.
These came at length to be a matter of course, and at
present, though no demand is made, and the traveller is
left to pay according to his own sense of propriety, the
keeper of a Khan in Turkey expects his reward as much
as an inn-keeper in Christian Europe.
We took advantage of the cool of the morning to
ascend the ancient Acropolis, which rises to a height of
several hundred feet back of the town. We found no
antiquities there of any interest, but the view it afforded,
was an ample compensation for our toils. At our feet
lay the city with its innumerable minarets, reflecting the
earliest rays ofthe sun, and beyond it stretched in either
direction the immense Vale of the Hermus; whose wind
ings could be distinctly traced for many miles in succes
sion. Magnesia is the capital of a Pachalic of the same name,
governed by the family of Oglou, so distinguished in
Turkish annals, and whose military virtues Byron has
celebrated in his " Bride of Abydos." It was destroyed
by an earthquake in the reign of Tiberius, and rebuilt by
order of that Emperor. Near it is "the battle-ground,
where Antiochus was defeated by the Romans. It is dif
ficult to ascertain the true number of inhabitants. By
some, its population is said to equal that of Smyrna, while
. by others, it is brought down to a moiety of that number.
It covers a great extent of territory, but the houses are

156 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
generally low, and the population apparently much less
dense than that of its neighbour and rival. Its streets
are much meaner, narrower and more filthy than those
of Smyrna. Its mosques, however, are more numerous,
and are said greatly to surpass in beauty those of that
city. We tried to get admission to the one that passes
for the most beautiful, but it was too early in the morn
ing.

Having diminished somewhat the contents of our pro
vision bag, a little after nine o'clock, we mounted again
and set off. The terrible bruising of the preceding day
had made us so sore that it was sometime before we
began to enjoy our ride. On our right we had the lofty
range of Sipylus, and on our left the extensive and fertile
valley of the Sarabat. * About an hour beyond Magnesia,
we had the gratification of discovering that natural phe
nomenon on the side of Mount Sipylus, which, from its
resemblance to the shape of a woman in distress, caused
the ancient poets to make this the scene ofthe metamor
phose of Niobe into a stone; and the rock in which the
resemblance exists, or the peculiar reflection of light, that
occasions the illusion, which ever it may be, since the
days of Homer down to the present time, has been known
by the name of "The Niobe." Some time after this,
we passed another natural curiosity in the side of the
mountain, nearer to the highway. It was a figure in a
niche, strikingly similar to an Egyptian mummy in a
sa.rcophagus. In the course of our morning ride, we stopped to re
pose beneath the spreading branches of an aged plane
tree, that friend of the weary traveller in tlie hot climates
of the East It was by one of those fountains, so common
and so necessary, along the public roads of Asia Minor.
Some passage from the Koran is usually engraven on the
rudely sculptured stones of which they are constructed ;
and thus, while the water that oozes through the orifice
• The modem name of the Hermus.

IN THE NAVT. 157
enables the Mussulman to perform his customary ablu
tions, the words of the Prophet guide his meditations,
and prepare him for the worship of the all-powerful
Allah. In the afternoon we passed a company of Turkomans,
who had pitched their goats' hair tents along the margin
of a branch of the Hermus. These are a sort of Nomades,
who, when they tire of one place, bind their tents upon
the backs of their mules, and, with, their flocks and herds
and wives and little ones, wander till they find another
that suits their fancy better. They are far behind the
Turks in civilization. They came out from their tents
and stopped us to inquire if we wished to jttirchase any
of their horses. These are an article in which they deal
more extensively than any other.
We arrived at Cassaba, a miserable Turkish town,
containing about five thousand inhabitants, at six o'clock,
P. M. Something like two-thirds of the population are
Turks, and the remainder is divided between Jews,
Greeks and Armenians. The houses are built of mud
and small unwrought stones, only one story high, and
without any windows in front. Most of the streets,
through which we passed were flooded with water.
We rode into ttie court yard of the Khan, dismounted,
and were shown into an apartment, where our accom
modations and comforts were much the same as on the
preceding night. We sent out for a bottle of wine, but
found it such execrable stuff that we could not drink it.
We took a stroll through the town, and stepped in to
see the Greek church. The priests appeared gratified
at our visit, and invited us into their house. There we
were treated to sweetmeats and cordial. Cassaba is
famed all over the East for the excellence of its melons.
In the evening, one of Antonio's friends, who resi
ded there, politely brought us one that had been kept
over winter. It had lost much of its flavour, but was
still pleasant to the taste, and we ate it as a curiosity.

Our old friends, the fleas, were quite as loving at Cas
saba as elsewhere, and somewhat before daylight, we

158 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
were up and on our way. We breakfasted at the cafe
net of Achmet Leigh, a young, intelligent, fine looking
Turk, to whom we carried some Greek books,— a pre
sent from Mr. Brewer. His establishment, was more
extensive, and kept much neater, than any we had be
fore seen, and the accommodations it afforded were pro
portionably improved. He amused us with playing on
the Turkish guitar, an instrument somewhat sirhilar to
the Italian, but with fewer strings and of much ruder
workmanship; Its tones were very fine, but of little
compass or variety. The Turks assembled there seem
ed delighted with the music, but it would have puzzled
a Rossini to discover any thing like a regular' tune in it
We set off from Achmet's cafenet about eight o'clock,
and a little before ten, crossed the golden-sanded Pacto
lus, and found ourselves among the ruins of a city, once
the glory of Asia Minor, and the seat of riches, luxury,
refinement and power,-^a city, whose annals, extend
ing through a long succession of ages, from their diver
sity, splendour and importance, impart to the spot on
which it stood, an interest such as belongs to few others
on the globe. The names of Halyattes, Croesus, Cyrus,
Xerxes, Alexander, Seleucus, Antiochus, Adrian, An-
tonine, and numerous others, whose histories are inter
woven with that of Sardis, give rise to associations, rich,
various and absorbing. . :..
It was a burning day,'but we nevertheless determined
not to forego the pleasure of ^the view from the top of
the ancient Acropolis. The rock on which it was built
is southeast of the ruins, and its perpendicular elevation
cannot be less than from eight to ten hundred feet. It
is of a triangular shape, and its outlines are uncommon
ly wild and craggy. That the Lydians should, have
neglected to fortify it on the outside, on account of the
supposed impossibility of scaling it, does not seem. at all
wonderful, and how the'^oldiers of Cyrus ever found the
means of climbing up in that part, it is difficult to con
ceive. In those parts of the hill which were less strong
by nature, fortifications were planted at different points
in the ascent, considerable remains of which are still
visible. Those portions of the walls that remain are

IN THE NAVT. 159
of massive construction, and appear to have been built
almost wholly of ruins. In many places we saw entire
tambours of columns, and large fragments of entablature.
Parts of the ascent we found exceedingly dangerous.
In some places, we could keep from fallingonly^ by clinging
to the shrubbery that had inserted itself among the crags
ofthe mountain. The view we had on reaching the sum
mit was indeed magnificent It is one of the most exten
sive and diversified that a traveller ever enjoys; — em
bracing the vast and fertile plains of Sardis and Mag
nesia, watered by the Hermus, the Pactolus and other
classic streams, — the snowy summits of Mount Tmolus,
glittering through an atmosphere of ethereal purity, — '¦
the Gygaean Lake, its waters quiet and placid as the
slumbers of infancy ; and the extensive burying ground
of the Lydian Kings, lifting its green and pensive Tu
muli, in beautiful relief, from the level soil that sur
rounds them. ¦ Among tlie Tumuli may be distinguished
that of Halyattes, father of Crcesus, which is nearly a
mile in the circumference of its base and of proportional
dimensions in other respects, and which Herodotus
classes with the Pyramids of Egypt and the Colossus of
Rhodes. At the foot of the Acropolis, and not far from the
banks of the Pactolus, are the ruins of the temple of Cy
bele. The sight of these splendid remains would of
themselves repay the toils and privations of a long jour
ney through the heart of Turkey. Only two entire
columns are standing, but the harmonious proportions
and exquisite finish of their capitals, and entablature,-
being one of the very few perfect specimens of the Ionic
order left, afford a pleasure of the purest and liveliest
kind. They are of coarse white marble, without flut-
ings, and about six and a half feet in diameter. Their
height, according to the true proportions of the orderj
cannot be less than fifty feet, but soil has been formed
over the foundations of the temple to the depth of twen
ty odd feet. Portions of other columns wei-e, standing,
and prodigious piles of fragments were scattered~about in
the vicinity.

160 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
The other remains at Sardis are considerably exten
sive, but they consist principally of undistinguishable
masses of rubbish. There is a pile of ruins pointed out
as those of one of the seven churches of Asia, but the
strong suspicion from which one cannot escape that they
are apocryphal, destroys in a great measure the- plea-
sure> he -Would otherwise feel in contemplating them.
The ruin that passes under the name of the palace of
Croesus, is better preserved than any other except the
temple, and was evidently a building of great magnifi
cence, and of prodigious extent and solidity; but
whether it was really the palace of the richest of mo
narchs, or a gymnasium, or a public bath-house, cannot,
at this time of day be determined.
Near the site of the ancient city there is a little vil
lage of wretched huts, and these, with afew Turkomans'
tents pitched on the banks of the Pactolus, were the only
visible representative of the life and bustle and eager
activity of the Lydian Capital and the seat of an Eastern
Satrap. We dined under a plane tree near that beautiful river,
which once flowed over sands of gold, and washed
down our sea-biscuit and cold tongue with copious
draughts, of its crystal waters. We bid adieu to Sardis
a little after three o'clock, and arrived at Cassaba the
same evening after dark; We were followed through
the streets by a bevy of dogs, so ferocious in their looks
and so fierce in their barkings, that we rode in a state of
real apprehension. Large companies of Turks were
seated in the streets in front of the coffee-houses, and
engaged in their customary employments.
The next morning at four o'clock we set off, and
returned to Smyrna by a different route. We arrived
there about an hour before sunset, and were welcome by
our friends with a great many kind inquiries and con
gratulations.

On the twentieth of the month we got under weigh
from Smyrna, and dropped our anchor in the bay of

IN THE NAVT. 161
Vourla. Here we spent three days in watering ship.
We paid a visit to the Island of Clazomene, on which
there once stood a rich, refined, and populous city,
famous for having been the birth-place of Anaxagoras,
the first philosopher who entertained and taught any
thing like correct notions of the Deity. The most in
teresting remains are the ruins of a mole, built by Alex
ander the Great. The other relics consist of a few
foundations of houses, and immense quantities of fine
fragments of marble and terra cotta.

VOL. II. 15

( 162 )

CHAPTER IX.

On Wednesday, the twenty-fifth of May, the Boston
and Constellation weighed anchor and stood out to sea.
The wind, as usual in the Bay of Smyrna, blew from all
points of the compass in the course of an hour. Our
progress was slow during the night, but on the following
morning, a favourable breeze sprang up, and we had a
delightful day's sail. We left Ipsara on our left early in
the day. The late revolution has given a melancholy
celebrity and interest to this rocky little island. Only a
few years ago, it was inhabited by one of the most
enterprizing, intelligent, and thrifty communities to be
met with in the East. Its women were distinguished
for their beauty, sprightliness and modesty. It was the
birth-place of the modern Themistocles — the generous
and heroic Canaris. The canvass of its little navy of
merchantmen whitened every part of the Black Sea, the
Archipelago, and the Mediterranean; and the shops and
warehouses of its merchants were enriched by the com
merce which it carried on with the countries bordering
upon these seas. It was, in short, one of the few places
in the Turkish dominions, inhabited exclusively by
Greeks, where prosperity and contentment had made the
descendants of Leonidas forget that they were slaves.
But one night was sufficient for Turkish ferocity to
destroy the result of so many years of commercial enter
prise. The city was reduced to a heap of ruins, its
inhabitants were either massacred or driven into the sea,
and the island abandoned to solitude and sterility.
About sunset we entered the Doria Passage between
Negropont and Andros. The breeze soon died away to
a calm, and we had nothing to do but to feast upon the
serene and matchless beauty of a moonlight evening in
Greece. The next morning when 'I turned out, the

TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 163
ancient Sunium — now Cape Colonna — was far astern, and
the ruins of the temple of Minerva appeared like a white
speck on the horizon. Hydra was on our starboard bow.
This island was so rocky and barren that the ancient
Greeks, with all their enterprise, never attempted to
make a settlement upon it. There is, in effect, scarcely
soil enough upon it to give sustenance to a blade of grass.
Yet in the dark periods of Turkish oppression. Liberty,
to adopt the eloquent expression of one of its own dis
tinguished sons, selected it for an asylum, and the town
built upon its harbour is now the most opulent, flourish
ing and beautiful in Greece. There are some edifices in
it, said to rival the splendour of European palaces.
Spezzia is a few miles beyond Hydra, and at the en
trance of the Argolic Gulf Most of its surface admits
of being cultivated. The green hills and valleys that
compose its coast, on which could be seen a few com
fortable looking villages and farm-houses, presented a
refreshing contrast to the wild rocks and utter desola
tion, » which form the only features in the scenery of
Hydra. It is also a place of no small commercial and
political importance. In these two islands was concen
trated the most vigorous opposition to the government
of CapodistriasT but of this more hereafter.
We were becalmed, as usual, in the evening, just in
the entrance of the Gulf. We had the land breeze in the
night, but could not make much progress by beating;
and the sea breeze did not spring up till after breakfast
the following morning. It is surprising with how much
regularity the land and sea breezes blow in every port
in the Archipelago. The former usually sets in about
ten o'clock, A. M., and blows with considerable fresh
ness till towards sunset, when it dies away to a dead
calm. This lasts till nine or ten in the evening, when
the sea breeze starts up, and continues till about day
break on the following morning. This, in summer, is
the usual course of things, and the exceptions to it are
extremely rare. During the whole of the four months
that the Constellation was up the Arches, I scarcely re
collect a failure of this regular succession of inbats and

164 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
outbats, as they are called, in any of the ports that we
visited. It was a beautiful day towards the end of the most
beautiful of months, that we sailed up that Gulf, which
was ploughed by the first vessel that bore an Egyptian
colony to the shores of Greece, and whose waters were
once gay with the proud ships of Agamemnon. We
left the little town of Astros, with its grove of oran^
trees, beneath whose shade the second Congress of
modern Greece held its deliberations, on our left, and
dashed along through the classic waves, amid scenes em
bracing every variety of beauty, from the loveliest pic
turesque to the wildest sublimity, till the Palamedi of
Napoli, the Acropolis of Argos,, and the rich plain of the
Argolide, backed by its amphitheatre of mountains of grey
breccia, were distinctly visible from the deck of our ship.
A little after twelve o'clock, meridian, we anchored just
below the cliff called Ihkhali which entirely cuts off the
view of the town as you approach it from sea. We were
within a few miles of the Lake of Lerna and th^uins
of Argos, Mycenae and Tirynthus. In such a place,
whose heart would not rise to his mouth, and whose
pulse could fail to beat quicker and stronger than its
wont? What mind could resist the magic influence of
such names as those of Hercules, Danaus, Inachus, lo,
Acrisius, Danaae, Alcmeon, Amphitrion, Pelops, Atrius,
Agamemnon, Perseus, Clytemnestra, Iphigenia, and a
host of others not less distinguished, with which this re
gion is inseparably associated ? The shades of these illus
trious personages, whose memory is embalmed in death
less song, seem still to haunt the places, which their own
virtues or their crimes have rendered objects of such
thrilling interest May I not rather say that the aspect
of these places annihilates time, that the fictions of poetry
and the records of remote history seem to be realized,
and the spectator almost fancies himself actually wit
nessing scenes, which have perhaps never had an exist
ence but in the imagination ofthe wandering bard?
On the day of our arrival I did not go ashore, but
abandoned myself to the reveries, which the vicinity of

IN THE NAVT. 165
such classic regions and the anticipation of a visit to
them could not fail to awaken. Images of the heroism,
genius and taste of the ancient Greeks, as displayed in
flieir wars, their poetry, their philosophy, and their
sculpture, sprang up in throngs, as if evoked from
their repose by some wizard power. But I thought
of the degeneracy of modern times, and the comparison
filled me with mortification. I could not but breathe an
earnest prayer to Heaven that the descendants of Leoni
das and Themistocles might be wholly and for ever freed
from the iron despotism of the barbarous Othman; and
that the land where the Morning Stars of Poetry first sang
together, might again be made to echo with strains, sweet
and sublime as those which charmed into mildness the
fury of the tiger, converted to delighted compliance the
else relentless rigour ofthe King of Hell, and caused as
sembled millions to rend the heavens with their acclama
tions amid the cliffs of Delphi, and along the vales of Elis.
Oh ! who can think of the beings, airy and graceful as the
genius that created them, that once peopled every moun
tain and valley, every cliff and fountain, every grove and
grotto in Greece, and not sigh at the thought that her
mountains are no longer the abodes of Divinities, nor her
valleys hung with JEolian harps; that the shepherd wa
ters his fiock without knowing that Naiads and Goddesses
once bathed their celestial fornis in the stream that mur
murs at his feet; that the groves where Diana pursued
the chase have been levelled with the earth; and that
grottoes in the green day-spring of the imagination, form
ed by fairy fingered nymphs into rustic palaces, are now
the lurking places of the lawless Klepht, or afford a pre
carious shelter to wretches who have no where else to lay
their heads.

Early on the following morning, the twenty-eighth
of the month, I was ashoye at the capital of modern
Greece ; — by the Greeks called, as anciently, Nauplia —
by the Franks, Napoli di Romania. It is not a place of
15*

168 TWO TEARS AND A HALF ^
much commerce at present, but it presents a busy, bust
ling appearance. '^As its limits are small, the population
is very 5ense, and the restless, active disposition of the
Greeks makes them appear to be full of business. On a
gala day, it is as gay as any city in France or Italy. The
population, amounting to about twelve thousand souls,
is entirely Greek, and most of them wear the Albanian
costume, that gayest and most graceful of dresses. It
consists of a tight jacket, extending down to the waist,
and curiously ornamented with lace and needle-work, a
a pair of pantalets that set to the skin and are frequently
ornamented in the same way, a white ruffle round the
neck, and a frock of white muslin, gathered full round
the waist, and extending somewhat below the knees in
a thousand gracefully swelling folds. A pair of cloth or
morocco slippers well adjusted to the foot, and a red
flannel cap, with a flat top and a huge silk tassel dang
ling behind, complete the tout ensemble; and when
the person of a Greek is set off with one of the hand
somest of these dresses, and he is mounted on a spirited
charger, richly caparisoned, all his wants are satisfied.
His bliss admits of no augmentation. The ladies of the
higher classes follow, in their dresses, jthe fashions of
Paris. I saw some who were quite pretty, but generally
they have greatly degenerated in beauty from their an
cestors. A counterpart to the Trojan war is not likely
to occur in modern times. But the men of Greece are
models of manly beauty; and most of them are exces
sively vain of their personal appearance. They lace
themselves like women in this country, and their dress
is so contrived as to display the minutest proportions of
a form of the nhost perfect symmetry and grace. Their
physical constitution is as elastic, as their intellectual is
versatile and gay. The harmonious developement of
their muscles, the graceful expansion of their chests, and
the lofty expression of their large dark eyes, make them
appear like a race of men fitted 'to rule rather than to
obey — to be masters, instead of slaves.
I have spoken of the gay appearance of Napoli on a
gala day. In countries where the Greek, as well as

IN THE NAVT. 167
where the Catholic religion prevails, the Sabbath is in
deed a day of rest from labour, but of abandonment to
every species of amusement and pleasure. The public
promenade without the walls of the city, of a Sunday
evening, used to remind me of the Villa Reale at Na
ples. The view presented by the former is, if possible,
even gayer than that of the latter. The number of rich
ly mounted horsemen, arraj-ed in their Albanian cos
tumes of red caps, variegated jackets and frocks of
snowy whiteness, give to the scene an air of indescriba
ble animation and gayety. Temporary booths, covered
with the boughs of trees, are erected along the road,
where cakes, coffee, ice creams, lemonades, &c., are re
tailed. INIultitudes of the people go singing by the way,
and in a little village about half a mile beyond the town,
music and dancing are rife in almost every house. The
coffee-houses both here and in the city are crowded with
card parties, playing for amusement Such is the pic
ture of a Sabbatbin Napoli di Romania.
^ 
Nslpoli has improved infinitely since the close of the
late war, if the accounts of travellers, who visited it
about that time, are to be relied on. Many of the old
Turkish houses have been torn down, and elegant stone
buildings, after the European style of architecture, have
been erected in their stead. Some entire streets have
been formed in this way. These are handsomely gra
velled, and kept tolerably clean. They would not dis
credit any city in Europe. Changes of this kind are
constantly taking place. Many new buildings were go
ing up when we were there; By far the largest part of
the town, however, is miserably built, and extremely
filthy. The streets are narrow, irregular, crowded and
unwholesome. Coffee-houses are the most numerous
class of buildings, and the most fashionable places of re
sort. On holidays they are literally thronged, and at
no time do they have occasion to complain of a want of
custom. The principal refreshments that they afford
are coffee, ice creams and lemonade^, The only amuse-

168 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
naents are billiards and cards. Of both the Greeks are
excessively fond, 'but of the latter almost to madness.
There are six churches in Napoli, but none of them are
worthy of a particular description. They are wretehed
hovels, whOj|e only decorations are tasteless carvings
and gilded daubs. The public houses have not many
attractions for epicures. Their cooking is execrable.
Napoli is the most important military post in Greece.
It is capable of being made a second Gibraltar, but the
works are at present greatly out of repair. There are
three batfiferies on the sea wall, called la Batterie deS
Cinque Peres, la Batterie de la Terre, and la Batte
rie de^la Mer. The first is so called from the circum
stance of its formerly mounting five superb Venetian
sixty pounders. The necessities of the revolution have
caused these, as well as nearly all the other brass pieces
in the country, to be removed for the purpose of con
verting them into money. This battery at present
mounts nine pieces of various calibres. It commands
the approach to the town by sea. The Sea Battery has
twenty-five embrasures, but no cannon mounted. With
in the enclosure of this battery are the arsenal and mili
tary workshops. My guide, although one of the pro
fessors in the military school, could not tell me the num
ber of stands of arms in the arsenal, but I judged from
their appearance that there must have been about eight
thousand. The Land Battery has twenty embrasures, but
no pieces mounted. It is designed to command the ap
proach to the town by land between the bay and the
rock Palamedi. There are also military works on the
cliff of Ihkhali, which rises to the southward of the town.
But the glory of Napoli as a military post, is the tow
ering rock of the Palamedi, which completely com
mands the town and the approach to it in every di
rection. It is from eight hundred to one thousand feet
high, and nearly perpendicular on the side facing the
sea. Here therefore there is no necessity for artificial
bulwarks. On the opposite side there is a wall about
twenty feet in height, and ten in thickness. It has a
great many embrasures for cannon, and loop-holes with-

IN THE NAVT. 169
out number for the use of musketry. Within the enclo
sure are eight large stone cisterns, and as these are sup
plied from the rains that fall on the top of the rock, no
garrison that might be necessary to defend the place,
would ever suffer from the want of water. But this for
tress, notwithstanding it is so extensive, and capable of
being made impregnable, would, in its present condi
tion, be of very little service in the event of war. Not
more than sixty pieces of cannon of all kinds and sizes
are to be found in it, and most of them are mounted on
carriages that would not stand the wear of a half dozen
fires. When I visited it, the garrison consisted of only
three companies of eighty men each, commanded by a
captain, lieutenant and sublieutenant. I carried a letter
of introduction to one of the lieutenants, a young Ger--;
man officer, by whom I was politely received. Hi^
wife was a Greek lady, a native of Missolonghi, and pre
sent at the ever memorable siege and ever-to-be-lament
ed fall of that pro]g|i-spirited city. She spoke ItaliaiQ. a
little, but was so diffident of her ability to speak it cor
rectly, that I did not succeed in drawing her into a con
versation. According to the usual custom among the
Greeks, sweetmeats were served, and then pipes were
brought in and offered us. Dr.  was opposed to
this custom of treating visiters to sweetmeats, as they
always make the whole company use the same spoon,_
The public Penitentiary of Greece is within the fortress
ofthe Palamedi. It is an immense building, with walls
of prodigious thickness, and from forty to sixty feet in
height. About forty prisoners were confined within its
cells when we were there. A short time previous, one
poor fellow had attempted to escape by throwing him
self from the top of the wall, .to which, somehow or
other, he had managed to climb. His body was dread
fully mangled by the fall, and he died in three days.
There are no remains of antiquity at Napoli, except
a small fragment of the walls of the ancient city, con
structed in the second style of Cyclopian masonry. It is
seen, as you approach the town, near the water's edge on
the cliff of Ihkhali. Pausanias says that, even in his

170 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
time, Naiuplia was utterly desolate, there being no re
mains except portions of the walls, the ruins of the temple
of Neptune, and the fountain Kanathos, where Juno was
accustomed to bathe, once a year to preserve her virgin
loveliness. The temple has entirely disappeared, but
the fountain may still be seen, about a mile distant from
the city, and near the little village of Area. I paid a
visit to it in company with Mr. J. of the Boston and Dr.
C. of the Constellation. We changed our guides several
times, and, having searched more than an hour without
success, we were about giving up in despair, when one
of the men who were with us jumped upon a large stone,
near an old dilapidated chapel below the village, assuring
us that the " water" for which we were seeking was
underneath. We immediately set the fellows at re
moving the stone, which they effected in about fifteen
minutes. We then descended by means of four stones,
placed in a shelving position, to a fountain whose-waters,
pure as crystal and of delicious freshness, were fit to
wash the limbs and assuage the thirst of a goddess.
Kanathos still gushes up from its perennial source, but
Juno lives only in poetry. As there are no longer god
desses to appropriate its waters, the sacrilegious Neapo
litans have constructed an aqueduct to convey them to
their own abodes, there to be applied to the meaner pur
poses [pro pudor!) of boiling potatoes and washing dirty
urchins. Area presented a lively, bustling, cheerful appearance
the day we visited it Almost the entire population, as
well women as men, were collected in the highest part
of the village, and engaged in threshing and winnowing
their yearly crops. Their mode of thi-eshing is this: a
commodious spot is selected, the turf is removed from
the soil, and the earth is then hardened by rollers. The
grain in sheaves is thrown on this surface, and the ser
vices of asses, horses and cattle are put in requisition to
tread it out Clubs, used by men and women, are some
times also employed for the same purpose. The opera
tion of winnowing and sifting, like that of threshing, is
performed upon the ground. Hence it is that the best

IN THE NAVT. 171
bread in Greece is always gritty, and to eat that used by
the common people in tlie country is like chewing sand.'
The Greeks who live in country villages, are extremely
averse to having strangers enter their houses. This I
had often observed, and had a repeated exemplification
of it in Area. I became thirsty, and as we were passing
through the streets, I observed a woman standing in the
door of her hut. I asked her for a drink of water. She
turned to get it, but seeing that I was following her in,
she hastily shut the door in my face. She soon returned
with her little wooden noggin full of water, taking the
precaution, as she came out, to shut the door behind her.

There is a Military Academy at Napoli, founded by
Capodistrias, and supported from the public treasury.
The professors are young Greeks, educated in the Uni
versities of western Europe. Their salaries are very
small, but much is not required to live in Greece, and
for the rest, they appeared to be fired with an enthu
siastic love'of country, which made them willing to give
it their best services for a bare subsistence. The number
of scholars, when I visited the school, was sixty-four.
One of the professors promised me a detailed plan of the
scbool in writing, but never fulfilled his engageihent
The following statements in regard to the course of study,
are copied from the imperfect notes I took at the time,
under the expectation of an authentic account of the
whole matter from a person qualified to give it. It is
only the principal studies, therefore, that I can pretend
to indicate. Those of the first year are arithmetic,
geometric elevating, and the ancient Greek language.
The second year is devoted to algebra, geometry, gra
phic and topographic design, trigonometry and the
Greek and, French languages. During the third year,
most of the same studies are continued, with the addi
tion of analytical and descriptive algebra, drawing
in figiires and landscape, and the art of fortifying.
The studies of the fourth year are chemistry, physics,
descriptive analysis, architecture and ship-building.

172 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Works on military science are interspersed through all
the years, and several hours each day are. devoted to ac
tive military exercises. The young gentlemen exhibited
the most gratifying proofs of their intelligence, and of the
^od use they make of the opportunities they enjoy. It
is to be hoped that this Academy will continue to share
largely in the fostering care of the government, and that
through its instrumentality a body of intelligent, well-
disciplined, patriotic and efficient officers may be raised
up to answer the demands of the state in times of emer
gency. There is also at Napoli a public school for boys, esta
blished three years before our visit there, and conducted
on the Lancasterian system, or, as it is called in Greece,
the plan of mutual instruction. An intelligent and
amiable young gentleman, by the name of Alexander
D'Say, is at the head of it It is co.mposed of about two
hundred scholars, divided into eight classes. They are
of all ages from five to fifteen, and a more sprightly, in
telligent, industrious and orderly collection of boys I
have never seen. Some of them looked as if they had
intellects and souls to rival the heroes from whom they
are descended. I was delighted with the perfect system
of discipline which prevailed in the school. Every
scholar attended to his own business alone, and all gene-
ralmovements had the regularity and precision of ma
chinery. Each of the boys had a port-folio slung over
his shoulders, and an ink-horn inserted in the girdle that
surrounded his waist. The walls of the school-room
were covered with cards, containing elementary lessons
in. large capitals. The principal studies are reading,
writing, arithmetic, grammar, drawing, sacred and pro
fane history and ancient Greek. The facility of the
Greeks for acquiring knowledge, and the consequent
rapid progress made by the children in the acquisition
of it, would scarcely be believed by any one who had
never seen them. A few months are sufficient to enable
them to read with perfect fluency, and to write almost
with the ease and elegance of a master; and in this same

IN THE NAVY. 173
Lancasterian school at Napoli, which had been in opera
tion only three years, I saw specimens of drawing that
would have done credit to the academies of Italy. But
in this, as well as all the other schools in Greece, there
was a great deficiency of books. The missionary press
at Malta has done much towards supplying the demand,
and I trust that the conductors of that now established at
Athens by the Episcopalians, will have a special eye to
that important object.
About a month before our arrival at Napoli, a classi
cal school had been established there. It numbered
eighty scholars, chiefly young gentlemen from the high
er classes of society. The principal "studies pursued by
them were the ancient Greek classics, geography, math-
.ematics and astronomy. I heard the class in astronomy
recite, and such intense interest as the pupils exhibited
- 1 have rarely witnessed. One of them disputed a pro
position in the lesson relating to the movements of the
heavenly bodies^ and boldly joined issue with his teach
er on the point in question. The discussion was long,
bold and animated ; and the result was a complete vic
tory on the part of the teacher. When the young scep
tic was forced to strike his colours to the power of truth,
a murmur of approbation ran through the class, and the
master doubtless gained much in the estimation of his
pupils. This is an exemplification of that insatiable
thirst for knowledge and that untiring eagerness in the
pursuit of it, so characteristic of the modern Greeks.
Anciently it was said of them by one who had ample
means of knowing, " the Greeks seek after wisdom,"
and the same trait is not less prominent in their charac-
tenpn our own times.
The buildings occupied by the two last mentioned
schools were formerly mosques. It is gratifying to be
hold these temples of a false religion now appropriated
to such noble purposes. Their walls and vaults were
hung with festoons of flowers, which filled the air with
fragrance, and gave the apartments a cheerful and lively
appearance. During the Carnival the^ are converted
VOL. IL 16

174 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
into ball-rooms, and the gloomy rites of Islamism are for-.
gotten amid the gay festivities of the Grecian dance.

The political state of Greece, at the time of our visit,
was verging towards a revolution. The true friends of
liberty and public order could not contemplate it with
much satisfaction. One province was in actual revolt,
and some of the others were not in a much better state.
The opposition to the government was strong and gene
ral. On our arrival in Greece, the first persons with
whom I came in contact were for the most part govern
ment men, and I was led to believe that the administra- ,
tion of Capodistrias was generally acceptable to the peo-'
pie; but in diverging from the Capital, no matter in what
direction, I found that the spirit of discontent and mur
muring increased. I soon saw enough to convince me
that Capodistrias would not, probably, complete the term
of administration for which he had been appointed, but
I did not anticipate his removal precisely in the way in
which it has since taken place. The opposition num
bered such men as Miaulis, Tombazi, Mavrocordato,
Canaris, Conduriotti, Gen. Church, and almost all the offi
cers of the Navy en masse. The marrow of the opposition
was in Hydra and Spezzia. In the former place particu
larly, they set the government at defiance, and laughed
its edicts to scorn. To read the Apollo,, a paper publish
ed in that island in modern Greek, was made a capital
offence. The charges made by the opposition against
Capodistrias were principally these: — subserviency to
Russia, abolition of the freedom of the press, embezzle
ment of the public treasures, and the employmenifof
bribes and menaces to corrupt and overawe the legisla
tive and judicial authorities of the country. Of the truth
of the first of these charges there is little reason to doubt.
The Russian, fleet lay for years in succession, off the town
of Napoli, or in some ofthe neighbouring ports, to over
awe, as was confidently asserted and almost universally
believed, the Grgek nation; and immense sums of money
were, from time to time, transmitted from the Autocrat

IN THE NAVY. 175
to his quondam secretary. The second charge was not
denied. The edict in relation to the Apollo was a suf
ficient proof of it: but that was not all. A respectable
Greek undertook to establish a political paper at the seat
of Government. He purchased a press and types, rented
a house, and had got every thing in readiness to commence
business; when he was surprised by a military visit, and
still more so at a demand that every thing connected
with his establishment should be surrendered. To an
inquiry upon what authority such a dem,and was
made ? — the only answer he received was, that it was
by superior authority. It may, however, well be ques
tioned whether entire liberty of the''press in Greece be
advisable or desirable in the present state of affairs there.
To refute the third charge, the friends of Capodistrias
appealed triumphantly to the circumstance of his hav
ing spent a private fortune after his arrival in Greece. To
this the hostile party opposed, the alleged fact of his hav
ing expended large sums of the public money without ac
counting for them otherwise than by placing them under
the general head of extraordinary exjienses. It may be
further added that power is sweeter than riches, and in
the employment of his own fortune, he may have been
influenced by motives of the purest selfishness — to con
firm and perpetuate his authority. In confirmation of
the fourth charge, I was assured by an English lawyer
resident at Argos, that no decision could be obtained in
any court in favour of a man known to be obnoxious to
the President. Whether all these charges were true, I
cannot know; but I do know that they were generally
believed by the Greek people. It would, however, be
unJBst to deny that Capodistrias did much to promote
civilization; that his efforts were unwearied to facilitate
intercourse between different parts of the republic by
the suppression of piracy and robbery; tlfcit he gave<to
the cause of education the countenance and siujMrt of an
enlightened and patriotic statesman ; and finallw^that he
introduced something like order and efficiency vko the
administration of pSp affairs. Th|se are, ¦«hout
doubt, legitimate title^o honourable famel^t desjrotism,

176 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
that curse and scourge of the human race, has power to
blacken the most generous and deserving actions. On
the whole, the administration of Capodistrias was partly
good and partly bad; and it is not uncharitable to be
lieve that, had the Greeks been a better people, he would
have been a better ruler. He certainly was not cut out
for a despot, and if circumstances caused him sometimes
to act tyrannically, let us remember the story of the once
generous and amiable Hazael, and learn to pity while
we censure.
The President, Governor of the city, and most of the
officers of the government visited our ship, while she lay
at Napoli. Capodistrias gave a splendid entertainment
at his palace, at Which, however, I had not the honour
of being present When we were at Napoli in July, I
called on him in company with the Captain and Purser.
He was a man of the most captivating manners anAfof
easy conversation. I judged him to be about sixtynfive
years of age. He was rather above the ordinary stature,
with a high forehead, grey hair, large dark greyish elyes,
long features, an intelligent but care-worn expression 'of
countenance, and- a form perfectly symmetricsQ arid
graceful. His dress was as plain as the simplest reputb-
Jican could have dfesired it;^ahd his palace was of plain
construction, and plainly furnifehed. It is true that
guards were stationed at the -entrance — a regal precau
tion — but this was rendered necessary by the character
of the people and- the state of the country. His conver
sation, which was carried on in Italian, was chiefly a de
tail of political news, in answer -to inquiries made by
Captain Wadsworth. He informed us of the abdication
of Don Pedro with a good deal of pleasantry. Alas!
little did he think that in a few short months, he him
self was to_ Jiall by the hand of an assassin ! No allusion
¦^s m|ide t^Hie state of Greece, or to his own adminis-
tratidn^Jr WgHterwards called on the Governor of the city,
whosh just rrioved into a n%w^t0ne" house, which he
had Md sfiftr^hf time to arrang^Bp¥e passed through a
filthy <entrai^P^ and up a flight ontone stairs encumber-

IN THE NAVY. 177
ed with sand, mortar and stones, into a large, handsome
and airy apartment in the second story. It was, how
ever, almost entirely destitute of furniture, and the Go
vernor's lady made a thousand apologies to excuse it
Here we were treated to sweetmeats and lemonade.
The Governor was a large, fat, good-natured, comforta
ble-looking sort of soul, hut apparently without much
energy. His wife was ugly, talented and confident, —
a perfect political blue stocking. The conversation
torned wholly on the politics of Greece, and she talked
in a torrent, always expressing twice what she had to
say — once in French to the Purser, and once in Italian
to me. She denounced the opposition as a parcel of po
litical demagogues, who, because they had no public em
ployment, were labouring to sow the seeds of discord
and discontent among the people, and to lay the founda
tion of their own fortunes on the ruins of the existing
government Oui — she exclaimed in the heat of her
feelings — oui, Monsieur, ils croicnt qu'ils sont capa-
bles de gouverner, mais ils ne sont pas capables. This,
of course, was only ludicrous to one who remembered
that the opposition included such men as Miaulis,
Mavrocordato and Canaris, while the blustering Colo-
cotroni was one of the main pillars of the then adminis
tration. I left the ship in the'market boat on Monday morn
ing, the thirtieth of May, on an excursion to Tirynthus,
Argos, and the Lake of Lerna. I went to an apothe
cary's shop to engage a seat in the Diligence, that left
Napoli at eight o'clock, A. M. for Argos. A Dili
gence IN Greece ! Such a thing was unheard of and
unthought of a few years ago. I engaged my seat, and
got a ticket, but the rogue with whom I negotiated the
affair, — a complaisant, honey-tongued fellow, — attempt
ed to cheat me out of a piastre in returning the change
for a dollar. This incident would not be worth ipiention-
ing, were it not characteristic. The disposition to im
pose on foreigners by giving them wrong chanP, ia
irresistible in tavern-keepers, shop-keepers, boatii^n,
guides, and generally in all those persons,'MRrith whom
16*

178 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
travellers are likely to have pecuniary transactions. Of
this disposition I have had exemplifications by fhe dozen
in my own experience, and when I pointed out the
deceit, the rogues would reply with an air of the most
perfect nonchalance, O yes! — it's a mistake of mine;
here's your balance. They are always, however, ex
tremely careful to make their mistakes in such a way ai
to put a few paras or piastres in their own pockets.

Having secured my seat, I set off on foot to Tirynthus,
intending to take the Diligence at that place. The sta
tionary beggars had already taken their places along the
road without the city, and each, de more, uttered the
most doleful cries for assistance, as we passed them.
The wretches raise their shrivelled arms to heaven, and
in tones of -whining importunity, but in a dialect rich
and sonorous even when least agreeably pronounced,
tell their different tales of misfortune, and beg a pittance
from every passing stranger.
Tirynthus, or Tiryns, as it is indifferently written, is
about a mile from Napoli, on the direct road to Argos.
It was with indescribable emotions that I approached the
site of a city, whose very ruins were nearly in their pre
sent state, when the Tybur remained as yet unsung, and
the seven hills of Rome were covered with their prime
val forests. Could I have selected the spot on which to
commence my observations in Greece, this of all others
would have been the place. It is the oldest ruin in that
country of ruins. It carries the mind back to those
remote ages, when giants were on the earth — to those
si'riiple'mannered times, when men were contented if
their wants were satisfied, and when, in the construction
of their cities, they regarded solidity more than show,
and durability more than graceful proportions and har-
moniouKpffect Homer, in the Odyssey mentions Tiryns
under the epithet of the " well-walled city. " To gaze
upo#walls, which the Father of Poetry himself has be-
hel45 and pronounced to be beautiful, — how thrilling
the effect !-wrhow stirring the thoughts that it awakens!

IN THE NAVT. 179
The Argives destroyed Tiryns and some of the neigh
bouring towns, because, exhausted by long wars, they
wished to increase the population of Argos by the addition
to its number of the inhabitants of the conquered cities.
The only vestiges now remaining are two vaulted galleries
and portions of the walls of the Acropolis. These, to
all human appearance, unless destroyed by some violent
convulsion of nature, are likely to stand till Time shall
have achieved his last conquest in the destruction of the
" great globe itself, with all which it inherits." They
are composed of unwrought stones, fitted into each other
with the utmost care and precision. The average dimen
sions of these stones is from four to six feet long, from
three to four broad, and from two to three in thickness.
The largest I measured was of the enormous size of nine
feet in length, five in width, and four in thickness. Pau
sanias does not give the dimensions of any of these rocks,
for such they are, but tells his readers in general terms,
that two oxen yoked together would not be able to
remove the largest of them. The most perfect remains
of the walls are on the east side of the Acropolis. There
is one place here where they are still about forty feet
high, an elevation probably not more than ten or fifteen
feet below their original height. I observed the gate on
the west side, but not that on the east, mentioned by Dr.
Clarke. Of the original height of the former it is im
posssible to judge, because no one can tell how much the
surrounding soil may have been elevated in the progress
of time. Its present visible height is seven feet, and it
is five feet wide at the bottom. It terminates in a point
ed arch.
I have spoken of two galleries, as constituting parts of
the present remains at Tiryns. The principal of these
is at the south-east angle of the Acropolis, and faces Na
poli. It is eighty-one feet long, and twelve in height,
and terminates in a pointed arch. The masonry is ofthe
same order with that of the walls. The other is at the
south-west angle. It is only twenty feet in length and
nine in height, — of the same construction as the former.
The use of these galleries has puzzled antiquaries and

180 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
travellers not a little. When " doctors" doubt, it would
be presumptuous in me to express any decided opinion,
hut I merelj'' throw out the suggestion whetljer they may
not have been used as places of deposit for military or
other public stores. The hill of the Acropolis is two
hundred and thirty paces in length, forty-five in width,
and seven hundred and sixty in circuit When I was
there, its possession was disputed by thistles and tobacco.
The walls of Tirynthus w"ere attributed by the ancient"
poets to the Cyclops — the sons of Heaven and Earth, who
forged the thunderbolts of Jupiter — because it was sup
posed that no human strength was competent to the erec
tion of such prodigious works. Dr. Clarke says that, on
the Acropolis of Tiryns, he seemed to stand amid the
ruins of Memphis. Works of this kind, that is, walls
composed of huge unwrought stones^ are found not only
in Greece, but in Egypt, Syria, the north of Europe and
the island of Great Britian. This, therefore, appears to
be the earliest style of masonry known, and for the rea
son already assigned was called Cyclopian. Stones of
smaller, but still very large dimensions, were afterwards
employed ; and they were wrought so as to fit into each
other exactly, and were put together without cement
This style, though less rude, massive, and solid than the
former, was still thought to have something superhuman
in it, and it also was dignified with the epithet of Cyclo
pian. On account of the numerous angles into which
the sides of the stones were wrought, it was likewise
caUed polygonal. To distinguish these two styles from
each other, they were denominated the first and second
orders of Cyclopian masonry.
The ancient Tirynthians were distinguished for an odd
trait in their character. " They had acquired," says
Barthelemi, " such a habit of jesting on all subjects, that
it became impossible for them to attend, with serious
ness, to affairs of the highest importance. Tired of their
own levity, they had recourse to the oracle of Delphi.
It assured them that they would be cured of their disease,
if, having sacrificed a bull to Neptune, they could cast it
into the sea without laughing. It was obvious that the

IN THE NAVT. 181
constraint imposed upon them would defeat the accom
plishment of the oracle. However, they assembled up
on the bank. They had removed all the children; but,
as they were chasing one away, who had stolen in among
them, 'What!' he exclaimed, ' are you afraid that I'll
swallow your bull ?' At these words, they burst into a
loud laugh; and, persuaded that their malady was incura
ble, they submitted themselves to their destiny."
There is an agricultural school at Tiryns, in which
boys are instructed both theoretically and practically in
that useful science. In the summer of 1831, it numbered
between thirty and forty pupils.

( 183 )

CHAPTER X.

At a quarter past eight o'clock, the Diligence drove
up and halted in front of the building' appropriated to the
agricultural school. It was nothing but an ordinary
waggon, rudely constructed, with three board seats with
out springs, on which were placed as many thin woollen
cushions. It was covered with coarse blue cloth. The
horses and driver were in keeping with the vehicle.
Miserable as the establishment was, the poor Greeks,
who had never seen any thing of the kind before, re
garded and spoke of it with exultation. The effect of this
would have been ludicrous, had it not been for the
thought that it was one of the consequences of freedom
from Turkish servitude; and who could find it in his
heart to ridicule the patriotic pride with which the. de
scendants of the conquerors of Persia looked upon- this
evidence, — poor though it was in itself, — of their equali
ty with the independent nations of Europe ?
We were two hours on the road between Tiryns and
Argos. It was mid-harvest, and the fields, covered with
groups of reapers, exhibited an animated and cheering pro
spect. There is no other period of the year so calculated
to fill the soul with gratitude and light up the countenance
with gladness, as the season of harvest; and no other
scene in nature so gay, so beautiful, and so exhilarating,
as that of the yearly in-gathering of the crops, which a
bountiful Providence has brought to maturity. The
number of women engaged in this labour was at least
equal to that of the men, and the reapers beguiled their
toils with the songs with wliich they caused the harvest
fields to echo.
There were but three persons in the Diligence besides
myself. One of them was a Greek, about forty years

TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 183
old, dressed in a snuff-coloured Frank suit. He had
a pet dog, which, though not of the most moderate
dimensions, he nevertheless managed to hold in his lap '
all the way. His features were hard and bony, with
little ofthe genuine Grecian symmetry; but in his man
ners and conversation, he combined the gaiety, the ver
satility and the loquacity of the true Grecian character.
We passed through two or three wretched mud vil
lages, where, as usual, were planted along the streets a
number of half-clad, crippled beggars. A little before
ten we crossed a bridge over Father Inachus, at that
time without a drop of water, but in winter a mountain
torrent, rolling with prodigious fury, and in many places
restrained from spreading desolation on the surrounding
plains only by artificial embankments. Shortly after, we
entered the once proud capital of Acrisius, and halted in
front of the "Coffee-house of Agamemnon." "The
Coffee-house of Agamemnon!" I exclaimed aloud, as my
eye caught the filthy hut dignified by so sounding an ap
pellation, and I could not help thinking how the shade
of that haughty monarch would feel itself insulted, if it
knew that its name was coupled with such a place as
this! My new Greek friend said that he was acquainted with
a Scotch lawyer by the name of Masson, in Argos, with
whom it might be pleasant to form an acquaintance, and
immediately on our arrival, he took me to his house.
He received me with^great cordiality, and insisted upon
my keeping him company at dinner. He kept bachelor's
hall, and his family consisted of himself, a young Scotch
physician, and a Greek servant. Two kinds of wine,
white and red, were placed upon the table at dinner.
Both were execrable, being bitter and resinous. These
qualities are common to almost all the Greek wines, and
are imparted to it by putting the cone of the pine in the
wine-press. This practice is of classical origin, as the
pine was anciently sacred to Bacchus. There is a great
variety in the wines of modern Greece. Every island
and province has at least one, and some two or three
kinds, peculiar to itself. The wine of Attica has a sweet

184 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
and sickish taste ; that of Epidaurus, anciently famed for
its exquisite flavour, is the most bitter and unpalatable
that we met with any where in Greece. The red wines
of Syra and Argentiera are of great body, and not dis
agreeable to the taste. Samos produces a sweet white
wine, of an exquisite flavour when unadulterated, but
very difficult to be procured in that state; but those of
Naxos, Chios and Lesbos have lost their ancient renown.
On the whole, I strongly suspect that, if the choicest
cups that ever regaled the palates, or inspired the lays of
Anacreon and Horace, were placed before your modern
epicurean wine-bibber, he would be very apt to " turn
up his nose" at them.
After dinner we called on General Church. He re
sides in a large stone house, finished and fitted up in the
style of an English nobleman's palace. His wife remains
^n England, and he lives in Argos by himself. He re
ceived us hi an elegantly furnished parlour, where he was
enjoying the'society of several respectahle Greeks, at
tired in the neatest and richest Albanian dresses. Ge-
• neral Church is of a middling stature, symmetrical pro-
, portions, and fair complexion, with large keen eyes, an
open and generous expression of countenance, and the
most beautiful pair of mustachios that I ever saw on an
upper lip. A gentleman, a scholar and an enthusiast
in the cause of human liberty, his conversation was re
fined, instructive and full of animation. The Greeks
were intelligent and communicative. The conversation
was light and versatile, — now on politics, now on litera
ture, now on the remains of ancient art in Greece, and
now on days " lang syne." I gave some account of our
trip to Sardis. One of the Greeks remarked pleasantly,
Vbus venez de voir la Capitate d'un ancien Satrape
de I'Asie, et vous ites venu maintenant a voir la Ca
pitate du Satrape moderne de la Grece.

The young surgeon who was staying with Mr. Mas-
son, politely volunteered his services as cicerone, and
soon after my arrival, we set off on a stroll among the

IN THE NAVT. 185
ruins. The name of Argos carries the mind back to
those distant periods, when fable supplied the place of
history, and the gods were wont to mingle personally in
the affairs of men. Tradition attributes its foundation to
Inachus, nearly two hundred centuries before the Chris
tian era, and some of the most beautiful fables in-woven
in the Grecian mj^thology,.have a " local habitation and
a name" in its brilliant annals. In the days of its glory,
Argos was one of the most splendid of Grecian cities.
Pausanias fills several chapters of his invaluable work
with an enumeration and description of its antiquities.
But its inhabitants enjoyed the still higher and more
'covetable glory of being " clothed in the ornaments of a
meek and quiet spirit" Less brilliant than the Athe
nians, and less austere than the Spartans, they excelled
both in the lovelier virtues of kindness amj
and, with a religion that made revea^eg^^iltw^ljtlie'y*
still had a temple dedicated to the GTO^|y»eeEness.'*^^
Long, however, as was its catalogne SOeia^S^^aknz,-
porticoes, statues and monuments, wejfe siUDerb work*
have all heen swept away; and the feS^Mmp^^t^yifts
that remain, are not sufficient to occupj ' '_
the examination, or much space in the description of
them. The theatre is the most perfect. It is cut in the
southeast side of the rock of the Acropolis. The seats,
seventy-one in number, are almost entire. They are of
a circular form, one hundred and twenty-nine feet in
length, and, allowing eighteen inches to each individual,
capable of containing six thousand one hundred and six
spectators. What Dr. Clarke means by the two wings,
which he considers as distinguishing this theatre from all
the others he saw in Greece, I confess myself utterly
unable, by repeated examinations, to determine; and my
Scotch companion and all our officers who examined it,
found themselves in the same uncertainty.
Just below the theatre, and at the distance .of only a
few paces, is a ruin of Roman origin, called Palaio
Tekkee. It consists of imperfect remains of an edifice
whose walls were five feet in thickness, and of several
VOL II. 17

186 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
subterraneous vaulted apartments. It was probably some
military work. In the same vicinity is the little oracular
shrine, discovered by Dr. Clarke, where the priests used
to conceal themselves to deliver the will of the Gods.
The foundation of the temple with which it was con
nected may still be traced on a level -part of the hill of
the Acropolis. The celia, cut in the mountain rock, still
remains; and just behind it is that " curious tell-tale,"
that reveals at once the cunning and iniquity of the
heathen priesthood. It is a little vaulted gallery, ten feet
long, two wide, and from four to five in height From
hence^ the Oracle, in the shape of a good fat priest, deli
vered his crafty, well concocted responses, while the
credulous wretches who came to learn the Divine will,
fancied that they heard, in his affected grandiloquence,
the voice of the Deity from his dwelling-place in the
bowels of the mountain. Immediately below the site
of this temple, there is a ruin called Limiarti, consist
ing of some very insignificant portions of a polygonal
wall. Higher up on the hill, though still near its base,
are the remains of a wall which encircled the Acropolis,
composed of small stones and cement of the middle
ages. On the opposite side of the theatre, and about a dozen
rods distant, there is a Httle church dedicated to the Pa
nagia, built chiefly of ancient marbles. The site of this
church Dr. Clarke considers that of the Hieron of Ve
nus, both from its correspondence with the locality given
it by Pausanias, and from the numerous Corinthian re
mains in the materials of which it is constructed. We
saw a number of Corinthian capitals, in the earliest style
of that order, more beautiful because less loaded with
ornaments, than the capitals of later date. There are in
the walls several slabs of marble with inscriptions, and
we noticed one with a Pegasus feeding on an ear of corn
sculptured on it, and another with a bass-relief represent-:
ing a priest at the altar in the act of administering an
oath. Various other churches in Argos are built almost
wholly of ruins, and probably occupy sites near those of

IN THE NAVT. 187
ancient temples. Some of the foundations have every
appearance of being ancient Near one of them we
went into a work-shop, and found the priest who minis
tered at its altar, in the shape of a brawny, coarse-fea
tured, black-bearded cooper.
The wells in Argos are numerous, and very curious.
They are covered with slabs of marble, with holes
in the centre just as large as the mouth of the well.
Their sides are worn into innumerable deep grooves by
¦ the friction of the ropes Used in drawing water. What
ages must have been required to produce such an ef
fect! In one of my excursions to Argos, I ascended the hill
of the Acropolis in company with two of our officers. It
rises to an elevation of one thousand feet on the south
west side of the town. Two-thirds of the way up the
ascent, we came to the ridge anciently called Deiras,
where was the Stadium, a temple of Apollo Deiradiotes,
and a little shrine at which the Argive women used to
mourn the death of the fair Adonis. The cave where
Adonis was worshipped may still be seen; but the Sta
dium has entirely disappeared, and the site of the tem
ple is now occupied by a small Greek monastery. Here
we stopped to rest, and were hospitably entertained by the
Monks, who seemed greatly amused at our foreign dialect.
The Cephissus is said to have flowed beneath the ancient
temple. We were anxious to institute some examina
tions on this point, but could not make ourselves under
stood. The water they gave us was pure and grateful,
but whence it was obtained we were unable to learn.
The ascent from the monastery was less steep and
focky than before, but more circuitous. We passed
through a grove of olives of sickly growth, and at length,
almost exhausted, reached the termination of our jour
ney. Here, however, we were richly repaid for our
toils by the sight of the remains of those prodigious
works that once crowned the summit of the mountain,
and by the extensive view they compiand not only of.
the Argolide, but also of som^ qf the neighbouring pror

188 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
vinces of Peloponnesus. There is on the northwest
side a wall of well joined polygons, eighty-four feet in
length and from fifteen to twenty in height. Some po
lygonal remains still exist on the northeast side also ;
but these are less extensive and in a less perfect state of
preservation. The ruins of an old Venetian fortress
•strew the entire summit ofthe rock.
From this point the plain of Argos appears to form a
broad circle round the Acropolis, the evenness of whose
surface is interrupted only by a line of hills, extending
in a northwestern direction till they meet the mountain
barrier, by which the whole beautiful panorama is sur
rounded. The view is glorious in itself, and rich in clas
sical recollections. Its outlines are Napoli with its ever
lasting fortress ; the ruins of Tiryns and Mycenae; the
Lernean Lake;, the Inachus, the Phrixos and the Erasi-
nus; the Argolic Gulf, on whose bosom, dim in the
distance, rises the island of Spezzia ; and many of the
towering, snow-crowned mountains of Southern Greece.
Modern Argos, half of it a heap of ruins and the rest
thinly spread over a wide extent of territory, lay just be
neath our feet, and we counted twenty-eight villages
scattered over the valley.
Argos at present is a place of few attractions. Most
of its houses are stone huts, and many of them without
floors. They are put together with mud, and have a
mean and comfortless appearance. There are, however,
some exceptions in the houses that have been erected
in European style since the revolution. The number of
inhabitants it is difficult to ascertain. Those who reside
there differ greatly in their estimates. Ten thousand is
not probably very wide of the truth.

My new Greek acquaintance wished to accompany
me to Lerna, and, having taken leave of my hospitable
host, we set off together about five o'clock, P. M. We
crossed the Phrixosshortly after issuing from the city,
and in fifty minutes came to Kephalari, so called frora

IN THE NAVT. 189
its being the source of the Erasinus. It forms one of
the most unique and beautiful spectacles it is possible to
conceive. The river bursts at once, in its full dimen
sions, from underneath the shelving rocks, and flows
bounding and brawling, as if rejoiced to escape from its
dark subterraneous prison-house. The Erasinus was a
river of Arcadia, which disappeared near Lake Stym-
phalus, and which the ancients supposed flowed under
ground till it reached this spot in Argolis, where it again
emerged to view. There is here an immense cavern,
where Bacchus and Pan were anciently worshipped, but
the altars of these merry gods have been demolished,
and a little chapel, dedicated to the Holy Virgin, now
invites the devotions of the passing stranger.
In forty minutes after leaving Kephalari, we rode up
and dismounted on the banks of the Lake of Lerna,
Here I fell in with our first lieutenant and sailing mas
ter, who had come over in one of the ship's cutters, and
whose invitation to return with them I was very willing
to accept Lerna derives all its interest from associa
tion. It is at present a miserable flag-pond, about two
hundred paces in circumference. It is surrounded by an
ancient wall, between which and the luxuriant crop of
flags that shoot up above its waters, there is a narrow
open space. There is also a small open space in the cen
tre of the lake, which the ancients considered without
bottom, and the miller whose machinery is put in motion
by its waters, and the peasant who labours in an adjoin
ing field, will tell you the same story at the present day.
The water is conducted away by means of a canal, and
turns a few mills in the vicinity, which give the name
of Mylos to a little collection of huts, built of mud and
thatched with Lernean flags. The lake is fed by nume
rous springs, that gush Qp at the foot of Mount Ponti-
nos, and its water is of an excellent quality. The Hy
dra no longer infests its banks, but it is not many years ¦>— -
since, that a monster, far more terrible — Ibrahim Pacha
— filled with dread and covered with' desolation, not
17*

190 . TWO TEARS AND A HALF
only the neighbourhood of Lerna, but the whole circuit
ofthe Peloponnesus.

.Early on Tuesday morning, the thirty-first of the
month, a party consisting of Dr.  , a midshipman and
myself, left the ship for the purpose of paying a visit to
Mycenae. We procured horsefe for the day, at a dollar
each, their owners, contrary to the usual custom in
Greece, staying behind. We glanced at Tiryns as we
passed it, and reached Argos a little before ten o'clock.
We spent several hours among the ruins there, dined
with our hospitable Scotch lawyer, who literally forbade
our dining any where else, paid a short but agreeable
visit to General Church, procured a young Greek for a
guide, with flint, steel, tinder and torches for viewing
the Heroum of Perseus, and at four o'clock, P. M. set
off in high spirits to see the remains of a city built more
than thirteen centuries before the Christian era. Just
without the town, we passed on our left the hiU Phoro-
neus, which received its name from the son of Inachus,
and on which stood one of the citadels of Argos, and
soon after crossed the dry bed of the Inachus, in that
place two hundred paces wide. We had not time to go
out of our way in search of the Heroum of Ceres Mysias,
but rode at a pretty rapid rate, and reached Krabata, a
small village about a mile from the ruins, in a little
more than an hour from Argos. The hills on which the
city of Mycenae stood, in the approach fi-om Argos, pre
sent the appearance of an inclined right angled triangle,
whose upper angle terminates in the hill of the Acropolis,
beyond which rise the towering heights of the "three-
topped" Euboia. ' i
We stopped a moment in front of one ofthe huts to
quench our thirst, and then commenced the ascent to
wards the Acropolis. It was with feelings bordering
upon awe that we drew nigh to the most venerable relic
in Greece, — the ruin of a city built before the war of

IN THE NAVT. 191
Troy, and in the time of Strabo supposed to be so utterly
destroyed that not a vestige of it remained, — the capital
of the " king of many islands and of all Argos," the
haughty Agamemnon, — a spot embellished by some of
the loftiest virtues that have ever graced humanity, and
blackened by some of the foulest crimes that ever stain
ed the annals of the world.
About midway between Krabata and the Acropolis,
we turned aside to our right to visit that splendid monu
ment, known under the names of the Brazen Treasury
of Atreus and his sons, the Tomb of Agamemnon, and
the Heroum of Perseus. Dr. Clark has brought such a
mass of eA'idence in support of the propriety of the last
of those appellations, as scarcely to leave any doubt of it
Externally it is exactly similar to the Tumuli of the
Lydian kings and the sepulchral mounds scattered over
the Troad. In its original state, it was unquestionably
entirely concealed by its covering of earth, hut by some
means or other, an aperture has been made at the apex,
and the entrance has been laid bare, so that the interior
is now exposed to the gaze of modern curiosity. Its
architecture is of the most massive and enduring char
acter that I have ever seen, and when the last stone was
laid upon the stupendous structure, its magnificence must
have been the pride, as its vastness and solidity now are
the wonder of every beholder.
The approach to the gate of the Acropolis on the
western side, is between two parallel walls in the second
style of Cyclopean masonry. It was in the open space
between these two walls that Sophocles laid the scene of
the first part of the Electra. The space for the gate is
in the centre of another similar wall connecting these
two, which is thirty feet long and twenty in height. It
is nine wide at the bottom, and becomes gradually nar
rower towards the top. Its present height is six feet five
inches, and it was never probably much higher, as the
upright circular holes where the gate was fastened at the
bottom, may still be seen on the inside. The lintel
measures fifteen feet in lengthy six and a half in width.

t92 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
and three feet eight inches in thickness. Directly over
this is an alto-relievo of the Heroic Ages — the oldest
piece of authenticated sculpture in Greece. It stands,
probably, precisely in the spot that it did when Agamem
non left his native city to head the armies of Greece in
the Trojan war; and we may reasonably enough suppose
that his farewell 'look was directed towards the lions that
guarded the entrance of his capital.
On the hill of the Acropolis we obseri^d two cisterns
of very large dimensions, whose sides were covered with
cement hard as a rock of flint The walls remain in
many parts almost perfect They are principally in the
second Cyclopean style, though we noticed a few speci
mens of the first. It is impossible to behold these pro
digious examples of the labours of a remote antiquity,
without a mingled sentiment of awe, astonishment and
respect ; and the impression they leave upon the mind
cannot fail to be as lasting as the powers of memory.

On Sunday, the twenty-ninth, I received an invitation
from Captain Wadsworth to join a party he was making
up for a visit to Corinth, of which I gladly accepted.
The party consisted of thirteen officers) being all that
could be spared from duty on board of both ships. Ca
podistrias had kindly ordered a sufficient number of
horses, and provided us with an escort of four soldiers.
At five o'clock we mounted, in the large square in front
of the president's palace, and set off on our journey.
We had two mules loaded with provisions. The owners
of all the horses accompanied us on foot, so that between
officers, soldiers, servants and grooms, our whole com
pany amounted to nearly forty.
We took the direct route to Mycenae, leaving Argos
several miles to the left. The region through which
we rode, was in olden times covered with villages, traces
of which we discovered in a variety of places. We
passed a number of little churches, in whose walls were
vt

IN THE NAVT. 193
inserted various inscribed marbles, and an ancient cis
tern about thirty feet deep, walled in the Cyclopean
style. Fragments of the shafts and capitals of columns,
and remains of ancient foundations, also frequently at
tracted our notice. I rode on ahead of the party, and
torned off to the right to visit the site of that superb tem
ple of Juno, situated on an eminence at the foot of Mount
Euboia. The spot had been pointed out to me by Gene
ral Church at Argos, and I had no difficulty in finding
it; nor had I the least doubt, from the extensive and
massy foundations still remaining and a part of the .shaft
of a fluted column of prodigious dimensions, that this
was really the site of that ancient and magnificent edi
fice, built by Eupolemus of Argos, and embellished
with the master-pieces of Polycletus, the rival of Phidias,
where the citizens of Argos and Mycenae blended their
sacrifices and libations in honour of the Queen of Hea
ven. This opinion is confirmed by the location which
Pausanias gives to the temple, standing, according to his
account, to the left of the direct road from Mycenae to
Argos, forty stadia from the latter city, and on an emi
nence commanding a view of the entire plain.
We stopped to breakfast under a spreading tree below
the Capital of Agamemnon, near which flowed a rivulet
of pure water. As few of the party had been there
before, we ascended to the Acropolis to view those
stopendous remains, in gazing upon which the eye can
not satiate itself, and where the imagination enjoys un
limited scope. While my companions were viewing
the other works, I traced the aqueduct without the walls
of the Acropolis up to the Fountain of Perseus, some
distance above the city. In a number of places, remains
of the terra cotta pipe in which the water was conduct
ed, could be distinctly seen. We also discovered the
remains of another monument near the Lion Gate, simi
lar to the Heroum of Perseus, but of much smaller dir
mensions. The earth over it is but slightly elevated,
and it can be seen only through an aperture opene4,in
the top.

194 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
At twelve o'clock, meridian, we again took up our
line of march, and soon entered the pass of Dervenaki,
riding through a thick grove of myrtles, lentisks and
other evergreen-shrubs, now quiet as the calm surface of
a summer sea, but once the haunt of that dreaded mon
ster, the Nemean Lion. Our road lay along the banks
of a stream of cool transparent water, whose murmurings
soothed the spirit, and fitted it to enjoj^ with keener re
lish the remembrances that throng the mind on such a
spot. Half an hour beyond Krabata, we saw ruts worn in
the rock by ancient carriage wheels. In one place they
were distinctly visible on both sides of the road, and the
distance between them was about three and a half feet.
Tlie scenery on either side of us was wild, broken and
solemn. We were constantly on the look-out for the
Cave of the Nemean Lion, and an hour after passing the
ruts, we discovered near the summit of one of the peaks
on our left something that looked like the entrance to a
cavern. Our guides could give us no information re-
spectirig it, nor had they ever heard of such an animal
as the Nemean Lion. Half an hour from here we cross
ed a rivulet of clear water, and halted to dine under a
tree upon its margin. Our dinner was in true patriarch
al style. Here the party began to "run" each other on
their fatigue; and one of our Medicos performed a feat
that he did not hear the. last of during the rest of the ex
cursion. After dinner, he seized one of the pistols,
stepped a little aside, and brought it to the proper point
for firing. "What!" exclaimed the Captain, "are you
going to fire that pistol, doctor ?" The question was
scarcely out of his lips, before the report was heard:
the doctor whirled upon his feet like a top, and the pis
tol was picked up at a distance of several yards from the
spot where it had been discharged.
We reposed for some time under the shade of the
thick foliage, and in half an hour after getting under
wejgh again, the valley of Cleonae opened upon us, and we
caught a view of the towering heights and eternal bul-

IX THE NAVT. 195
warks of the Acro-Corinthus. The prospect was hailed
with enthusiasm by our whole party. In another half
hour we rode up in front of a little stone hut, dignified
with the name of a Khan. This is Kourtese, and the
only representative of the ancient Cleonae. Here we
dismounted to rest ourselves under two large trees in
front of the Khan, near which there was a fountain of
excellent water. While my companions were lounging
in the shade, I took a stroll over the neighbouring hills
in search of the ancient remains, mentioned by some of
the travellers in Greece. I found ruins of considerable
extent on a hill in front of the Khan, but they appeafed
to me to be of Turkish origin.
The valley of Cleonae is hilly, sterile, and but lit
tle cultivated. There are but few villages in it, and
these all have a mean appearance. After leaving Kour
tese, we crossed two streams of considerable magnitude
on bridges, and several dry water courses. Knolls co
vered with sickly vegetation and stunted shrubbery,
and deep ravines shut in by precipitous sides, made up
nearly the whole of the scenery. Having rode for about
two hours through scenes so uninteresting in themselves
and so barren of associations, we ascended the last ele
vation between Cleonae and Corinth, and obtained our first
view of the latter, with its Acropolis, its isthmus, its
plain, its two seas, and the glorious mountains of North
ern Greece, lifting their summits, clothed in eternal
snows, far beyond them. Who shall describe the magic
prospect'' There was no previous warning — no gradual
lifting of the curtain — the whole glorious scene burst at
once upon our view. We paused a few moments to
survey it: and then commenced the descent towards that
lovely valley, in ancient times regarded as the most fer
tile spot on the globe, and still, in the eye of the Greek
at least, retaining the same proud distinction. We were
about an hour and a half in reaching Corinth. It was a
little after dusk when we arrived, and we stopped near
the heart of the modern town, at the only public-house
in it, laying any claim to decency.

196 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
Supper was served in the little portico in front of the
locanda, and a curious lesson it was that we read on
the r^ohjiigijs of time ia our table and its furniture.
Corym 'f^s ^(jnce the great focus of Eastern luxury,
crowded wi^lAe devotees of pleasure and the lovers of
"good cheer'^from every quarter of the world. In
1531, in this same Corinth, a party of thirteen American
officers — I was going to say sat down, — but more than
half of them stood, because there was not room for them
to sit, — around a little table, whose only furniture, in
addition to what they themselves had carried, was a dirty
ragged linen table cloth, an old Britannia teapot, three
earthen plates, two tumblers', and as many rusty knives
and forks. Our accommodations for the night were of
a piece with our supper table. Our host managed in
deed to " rig up" a bed for the Captain, and another for
Dr. S., but the restof us were all crammed into a single
apartment, and had nothing but rugs to lie upon, while
we were obliged to make pillows as we could out of our
cloaks or apparel. All praise, however, is due to our
bustling landlord, who, I believe, sent to every house in
town for rugs, and at last to our calls for more, we were
answered that no more could be obtained. But had we
reclined on beds of down, it would have been impossi
ble to sleep much. The fleas were beyond all endur
ance. No where else have I ever known them so nume
rous or so hungry. The reader will not be surprised
therefore that at three o'clock we were all up, and en
gaged in preparation for ascending the Acropolis. After
pounding some time at the door of a neighbouring cafe,
we succeeded in getting the proprietor up, who, pouting
and grumbling to his heart's content, set about making
us a cup of coffee.
This we took in the street, in front of the cafe, and at
four o'clock we begfin the ascent Our host, who was
no less a personage than a quondam captain in the
Greek service, accompanied us. When the Turks had
possession of Corinth, it was very difficult to get admis
sion within the fortress, but strangers are now allowed to

IN THE NAVT. 197
visit it whenever they choose to apply for permission.
The ascent is winding, steep and laborious. The rock
is encircled by two strong walls, the inner one of which
Wheeler, with his usual quaintness of manner, "guesses"
to be two miles in circuit The base of the cone (for
this is the shape of the mountain) was anciently com
puted to be forty stadia, equal to five English miles, but
the wall that surrounded it was eighty-five stadia in
length. The modern outer wall is much shorter than
this. On passing the inner gate we saw a number of sol
diers stretched upon the hard pavement, without even a
blanket under them. Some of them had stones for
pillows, and others used their cartridge boxes for that
purpose. Our visit was announced to the colonel, commanding
the fortress, who, though in bed at the time, instantly
rose, and was soon ready for us to wait on him. He re
ceived us very politely, in a plainly finished but neat
apartment, and treated us to coffee, cakes and pipes. He
entered into conversation with considerable freedom, but
his mind seemed to have a tinge of melancholy, very un
usual in his countrymen. He spoke in the most despond
ing terms of Greece, declaring it to be still in a state
of anarchy and revolution. To the question whether
he did not think the Greeks had advanced in civiliza
tion since their struggle with the Turks, he replied,
"Entirely the reverse; they have been retrograding."
This answer might have been the consequence of having
been interrupted in his morning slumbers: it certainly
was not a true statement of the case, '
The whole of the garrison at present allotted to this
fortress, consists of two companies of one hundred indi
viduals each. The military works are very extensivj,
but they are greatly out of repair, and mount only eighty
pieces of cannon of all sizes and qualities. A few years
ago they mounted five hundred, but most of them have
been converted into money. Two principal elevations
form the summit of the Acro-Corinthus. The lowest is
called Ihkali, and is on the north-west side of the hill.
VOL. II. 18

198 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
In the direction of this eminence, distant a few hundred
yards, is the rock from which Mohammed the Second
battered the Acropolis, being the only point from which
artillery can be made to bear upon it.
In passing from Ihkali to the highest point of the
mountain, we crossed a little valley, iri which may still
be' seen the Fountain Pirene, now called Dragonera,
where Bellerophon found the winged horse Pegasus.
Visiters usually descend by means of a rope ladder kept
for that purpose, but as it happened at that time to be
out of repair, we effected a descent of eight feet down a
perpendicular wall of stone-work, by inserting our feet
in the crevices, and clinging with our hands to the edges
of the stones; and thence we descended, by a flight of
fifteen long steps cut in the rock, to the Fountain. It
is very copious, and the water is several degrees cooler
than that of ordinary* springs, and ofthe purest transpa
rency. From Pirene we ascended to the summit of the high
est elevation. Here there is a small tower, to the top
of which we managed to climb; but what painter is equal
to the task of sketching the prospect it discloses to the
eye? I have beheld with rapture the prospects obtained
from the Keep at Carisbrooke Castle, from the Rock of
Gibraltar, from the Leaning Tower at Pisa, from the
ridge of the Crater of Vesuvius, and from the heights of
the Acropolis at Sardis; — but which of them can be com
pared to that enjoyed by a person on the top of the
Acro-Corinthus? Here the view is without limits in
every direction; and eomprehends every description of
scenery, from the most desolate sublimity, where
" Eternity is throned in icy halls," to the softest beauty
that adorns the enchanting vales of Greece. Standing
with his face towards the gulf of Lepanto, a spectator
will have before him the Plain of Corinth, from four to
five miles wide and from ten to fifteen long, gay with
numerous villages, and diversified by extensive olive
groves, green parterres, and golden wheat fields. On his
right, the gigantic ranges of Cythaeron, Helicon and Par-

IN THE NAVT. 199
nassus, their summits glittering with everlasting snows,
or towering far into the regions of the clouds, stretch in
apparently interminable outlines into the interior of
Northern Greece. Turning his eye to the left, it will
rest on the Peloponnesus, exhibiting mountains piled on
mountains, with here and there a green valley, smiling
amid the desolation that encircles it. Then changing
his position, so as to face the east, he will look down
upon the Saronic gulf, its bosom gemmed with verdant
islets, and far beyond he will discern the promontory of
Sunium, and the coast of Attica, among whose sacred
hills shoots up the still more sacred Acropolis of the
city of Minerva.
But if the distant view from this spot is fitted to ex
cite enthusiasm by its own intrinsic glories, that directly
beneath the eye is not less adapted to produce this effect
by the recollections to which it gives rise. You look
down upon the site of a city, once embellished with the
costliest works of art, where Luxury and Pleasure
were the reigning divinities. A little beyond, you be
hold the theatre of the Isthmian Games, celebrated in
honour of the great patron of Corinth; and at the heads
of the two seas which it separates, the sites of Lechaeum
and Cenchrea, where were crowded the warehouses of
the merchants of all natio'ns, and into whose ports were
continually entering vessels loaded with the produce and
the manufactures of Egypt, Lybia, Cyrene, Syria, Phoeni
cia, Carthage, and Sicily.
On descending from the mountain, we stopped to
view the remains of the Doric temple, which has occa?
sioned so many disputes among the tribe of antiquaries,
both as to the period of its erection, and the divinity to
whom it was dedicated. Seven columns are still stand
ing, five of which support the entablature. The propor
tions are incorrect, and the workmanship extremely in
elegant. This is the only ruin of much interest in Co
rinth. The modern town has no attractions whatever. It
is now almost a heap of desolations. This is the me-

200 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
morial left of his visit by that bloodthirsty Moslem, Ibra
him Pacha, in all the cities and villages of the Morea.
The population cannot exceed one thousand souls.
We reached the locanda about ten o'clock, where we
found a warm breakfast waiting, upon which we were
not long in commencing hostilities. After breakfast, Mr.
J. and Dr. E. of the Boston, and myself, obtained per
mission of Captain W. to visit Sicyon, -under the expec
tation of rejoining the party at Argos the same night.
Sicyon is about twelve miles from Corinth. We left our
companions at eleven o'clock, and commenced our jour
ney over that rich and beautiful plain, bounded on one
side, by the Gulf of Lepanto, and on the other by the
mountains of Corinth. We rode for several miles
through those luxuriant olive groves, that yield the
sweetest oil in the world; passed through several villages
and over a number of streams; and in two hours and
three minutes from Corinth crossed the Asopus by a
handsome arched stone bridge, and ascended the hill on
which stands the wretched village of Basilica, built upon
the site of the capital of the most ancient kingdom of
Greece, the once powerful and luxuriant Sicyon.
The main object of our visit to Sicyon was to see the
remains ofthe theatre, of which Dr. Clarke speaks in such
glowing terms. . His raptures may well be pardoned; for
the splendour of its situation and the symmetry and mag
nificence of its proportions cannot fail to fill with enthu
siasm a mind sensible to the glories of nature and the
beauties of art. The remains of the stadium are adjoin
ing to those of the theatre. They are partly natural and
partly artificial. The artificial portion was constructed
in the second style of Cyclopean architecture. The
foundations of the temple of Bacchus may be seen a few
rods in front of the theatre. There are other ruins of
some interest at Sicyon, but we had neither time nor
strength to search them out.
We had stopped in front of one of the huts, and got
the proprietor of it, a brawny, hardfeatured, suspicious
looking fellow, to accompany us as a guide. On our

IN THE NAVY. 201
return, we stepped into his house, which consisted of
only one apartment without any floor, other than the
native earth, in which pigs, poultry, and children were
all congregated together. 'Two large earthen jars for
grain, an iron pot, a sort of saucepan, a poker, a wooden
noggin for a pitcher, two or three pipes, and a musket,
constituted the whole of its furniture.
- At three o'clock, we began to retrace our steps over
the plain of Corinth. ' We passed the tents of a number
of shepherds, whose flocks were collected in the shade of
some large trees near by. The shepherds themselves
were stretched in front of their tents, fast asleep, and
their dogs came at us as if they would have torn us in
pieces. The pastoral -life in Greece has lost its poetical
cast. We arrived at Kourtese just at dusk, where we con
cluded to halt for the night. Our horseg were tied
by long halters to a tree in the vicinity, and we stretched
our weary and exhausted limbs on a mat of reeds, spread
upon a pavement of small round stones in the principal
apartment of the Khan. Notwithstanding the usual tor
ments of such places, we succeeded in getting a little
broken rest; but the fleas finally gained the victory, and
drove us up about two o'clock in the morning. Several
Greek travellers had stopped at the Khan on the preced
ing night, and in the morning we found them scattered
about in the open air, and snoring away as lustily as if
not a flea had been near them. For our night's lodg
ing, a pitcher of wine, and a supper for our soldier, we
w^ere charged only a piastre and a half, — equal to about
ten cents of our money.
We arrived at Argos at seven in the morning, where
we found our companions upon the point of setting off
for Napoli. We joined them, and reached that city
in about two hours, all of us glad to have made the
trip, but some protesting against ever being caught in
such a scrape again. 18*

( 202 )

CHAPTER XI.

It was the intention of Captain Wadsworth to have
saUed from Napoli on the night df the fourth of June,
but an accident that occurred to one of the Boston's cut
ters, prevented it. In returning from the Lake of Lerna,
she was struck with a sudden squall and capsized about
five o'clock, P. M., at the distance of three or four miles
from the nearest shore. The midshipman who com
manded her, and Who was quite young, conducted with
great presence of mind, and with a magnanimity worthy
of a true Virginian. He told those of the men who
thought themselves competent to the task, to swim
ashore, and the others to hold on to the boat till assist
ance might reach them. Several chose the former course,
and among others a lad who was not equal to the exer
tion it required. When he was some distance from the
boat, Mr-  observed that he laboured very hard, and,
believing that the poor fellow could not reach the shore,
he generously swam to his relief, reached him when his
strength was almost exhausted, and aided him back to
the boat. The others all arrived safely on land. The sea
was so high that a boat could not be seen at any distance,
and it was not till towards dark that any apprehensions
began to be entertained with regard to the safety of the
Boston's cutter. At the suggestion that she might be in
distress, a panic soon spread through both ships, and
several boats were immediately manned and sent off in
search of her. She was found about ten o'clock at night;
— the poor fellows who were clinging to her being just
ready to lose their grasp, and resign themselves to their
melancholy fate.
The inbat prevented our sailing the next day, and it
was not till ten o'clock in the evening that all hands were

TWO YEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 203
called to 'tup anchor" — a call that always produces a
lively sensation throughout a ship. On the morning of
the sixth of June, we found ourselves off Spezzia, but we
spent the whole day in beating against head winds to the
windward of that island and Hydra. The inbat on the
seventh, carried us up the Saronic Gulf. In the entrance
of its classic waters, the islands of Poros and Egina, the
rocky promontory of^ Sunium, and the venerable re
mains of the temples of the Patron-Goddess of Attica
and Jupiter of all the Greeks, with the rich associations
to which they gave rise, attracted our attention and en
grossed our thoughts. It would swell this work to a size
beyond that to which I propose to limit it, were I to
point out minutely all the various objects of beauty and
sublimity and interest, that rise upon the view along the
coast of Attica, till last and greatest of them all, the grey
rock of the Acropolis is seen breaking through the dis
tance, crowned with the holiest and most magnificent
ruin the world contains — the Temple of the tutelary
Goddess of Athens and of Greece. In the approach to
Athens by sea, the defects of the Parthenon are not seen,
and, with the exception of a tinge from age, its appear
ance at this moment is not materially different from that
which it would have presented to a sailor on the waters
of the Saronic Gulf, on that proud morning, when the
scaffolding was removed from the pediment in the Pro
naos, and the Minerva of Phidias, that glorious master
piece of genius in the arts, surveyed the fair city — with
its gorgeous and glittering assemblage of temples, por
ticoes, gymnasia, and storied mo_numents — which bore
her own venerated name, and which owed all its beauty
and all its fame to her beneficent and fostering care.
We passed the deserted harbour of the Piraeus about
sunset, and shortly after let go our anchor near the little
island of Salamis — now Coulouris — in the very waters
where the genius of Themistocles, seconded by the gal
lantry and patriotism of his brave associates, defeated the
proud schemes of the Eastern Despot, secured the liberty
of his countrymen, and won for himself a wreath of

204 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
laurels^.,that will be as green as on the day it was first
place44.,ugflp^is brow, when the. last ruin in Greece shall
have J^pjiwept from the face of the earth,
•,|, r. jn- -«pxe^ ujonumentumffire pefennius."
How much more durable is the fame that lives in the
records of history, than that whose prolongation is com
mitted to the sculptured bust, the storied urn, or the
massive sepulchre! The Pyramids of Egypt remain,
but the memory of the worms in whose honour they
were erected, has perished with their bones; while the
names and virtues of Leonidas and his three hundred
generous Spartans, live and will live, as long as there is
an eye to read or a heart to feel. Such comparatively
are mind and«matter. ** I trust I shall be excused for jny
frequent allusions to this subject; for I love to contem
plate the vast superiority* of the intellectual and moral
parts of our nature.
The evening that we anchored in the waters of Sala
mis, was just such a one as Byron describes in that
beautiful episode in one of his Eastern Tales, beginning
" So sinks more lovely ere his race be done,
Along Morea's hills the setting sun."
Sunrise and sunset in Greece are respectively the sub
limest and the loveliest scenes in nature. Before leaving
America, I had often read of Italian skies, and had been
taught to believe that the sun and moon and stars of Italy,
were worth all the beauties of all other countries put to
gether, 1 confess I was disappointed. But the skies,
the atmosphere, the scenery of Greece! — what picture
can equal the reality? Never shall I forget them;
Never shall I forget the wild sublimity of her mountains,
or the smiling loveliness of her valleys; — never shall I
forget the balmy mildness of her evenings, or the celes
tial purity of her climate; — never shall I forget the clear
deep blue of her classic waves, or the soft splendours of
her moon-light nights ; — above all, never shall I forget a
sunset that I once beheld, while standing amid the ruins
ofthe city of Minerva. Has the reader ever heard of

IN THE NAVT. 205
the " PURPLE HYMETTUS?" I had finished my notes on
the theatre of Herodes Atticus, and had risen to proceed,
when I remained suddenly entranced by the glorious
prospect that caught my eye. How shall I describe it ?
I was between the setting sun and Mount Hymettus,
whose, western side, in its whole extent, seemedkenvelo-
ped in a robe of the softest and most brilliant purple.? I
could not waste a look on the rich gilding of the sky and
clouds in the western part of the heavens, so intensely
was my attention occupied by the soft and ever-varying
hues in the opposite direction. As the sun continued to
sink, so that his rays ceased successively to strike on
different parts ofthe mountain, the purple tints gradually
retreated before a line of sombre hues, and it required
little imagination to fancy that I beheld the dark Spirit
of Barbarism chasing from places they had long illumined,
the delicate and glorious splendours of Grecian genius.
It was the most magnificent sunset I ever beheld, and in
the very spot of all others where I should most wish to
have beheld it

On the eighth, the first day after our arrival, I did not
go ashore; I spent the whole, day on deck — my eyes
rivetted to the scenery by which we were surrounded.
How brilliant and varied and stirring the recollections
awakened on such a spot! How much both of poetry
and religion there is in them ! The Piraeus, the Acro
polis, Hymettus, Parnes, Corydallus, the Acro-Corinthus,
the snow-crowned Parnassus, Helicon and Cythaeron,
Salamis and its immortal waters, the island gemmed
Mgean, — are all names cherished in the memory of
every one, whose soul has ever been fired by the poetry
that has embalmed them. The moral associations too of
such a place are high and holy. The genius and valour
and patriotism displayed in the battle of Salamis, the
generous devotion to the cause of Greece, which in
duced the Athenians to prefer voluntary exile to igno
minious submission, the image of a little handful of free-

206 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
men daring,, and daring successfully to oppose the gigan
tic forces of a monarch, before whom subject Asia bow
ed herself in the dust, and the intellectual achievements
of those illustrious men whose genius rendered the capital
of Attica the metropolis of learning aind taste, pass' in
vivid perspective before the mental eye. How is the
mind touched with the remembrance of such things as
the banishment of Aristides, the conduct of Themistocles
in that transaction,' the subsequent re-call of the just man,
and the noble reconciliation that took place between
the two rivals on the very waters where we were anchor
ed, when they sacrificed their personal- enmities and
their personal aspirations on the altar of their common
country! These are recollections that convey lessons of
wisdom and philosophy, which carry with them a .^orce
unknown to the mere speculations .of the theorist, how^
ever just or beautiful.
Our anchorage was just above the little island of Psy-
tallia, on which there were anciently several rude images
of Pan carved on the native rock, and about midway be
tween Salamis and Corydallus, op the former of which
stood a temple of Diana, and on the latter Xerxes caused
a throne to be erected from which he expected to wit
ness the discomfiture of the Grecian fleet. Captain
Wadsworth went ashore on the eighth at the Piraeus,
and ordered a number of hoi"ses to be sent there early on
the following morffling. In the evening I received an in
vitation to join his party. Accordingly, at seven o'clock
the next morning, in company with seventeen other offi
cers, I left the ship, full of that delicious elasticity of
spirits, which the near certainty of a visit to Athens
could not fail to inspire.
Passing between^the old harbour of Phoron and the
island of Psytallia, we entered the Piraeus between the
pedestals of the two Lions which anciently guarded the
approach.- The entrance is not more than two hundred
paces wide, but the harbour itself is much more capa
cious than any of us had expected to find it Chandler
says that it is large enough to contain forty or fifty com-

IN THE NAVT. 207
mon sized vessels, and this assertion Hobhouse considers
a proof that ships in his time were smaller than they are
at present. Our officers thought the expression of such
an opinion on the part of Mr. PL, proved him to be more
of a landsman than a sailor. Two men of war, an English
brig and an Austrian schooner, were at anchor in the
Piraeus at the time of our visit. Considerable remains of
the ancient pier still exist, but the three old divisions of
the harbour can no longer be traced. On our right, as
we entered, we saw the mound that passes for the tomb
of Themistocles. The ashes of that illustrious hero,
statesman and patriot, whose valour triumphed over his
country's foes, whose wisdom laid the foundation of his
country's greatness, and whose love of country exile
could not cool, were at last by his repentant countrymen
removed from their foreign resting-place, and deposited
in a spot of all others the most appropriate for his repose.
On landing, how different the scene presented to our
eyes, from that described by Anacharsis! A wretched
custom-house had usurped the place of the vast maga
zines then stored with the merchandise of every clime,
a few still more wretched huts had displaced the temples,
adorned with colonnades and statues of the gods, the
crowded quays had crumbled and disappeared beneath
the heavy hand of time, a few misticoes and caiques
represented the innumerable gallies that covered the
waters of the Piraeus, and the bustle of commerce as
seen in the hurried tread of merchants unlading their
newly arrived cargoes or preparing to embark on foreign
voyages, and in the farewell embraces and warm congra
tulations of friends, found its only counterpart in the
bawlings and contortions of the grooms who were setting
forth the excellencies of their horses and begging us to
mount upon their backs.
A party of midshipmen had gone ashore before us,
and appropriated a part of the horses ordered by Captain
W,, so that three of us were left in the lurch, and had to
go on foot The distance is five miles. We ascended
the range of low hills that form the coast of this part of

208 TWO "tears and a half
Attica, and entered the extensive plain of Athens. Our
ride for the first half hour was close along the remains of
the long walls of Themistocles. These consist of stones
of prodigious dimensions, in some of which we could
distinctly see the marks of the iron clamps employed to
give strength and durability to the walls. The soil in
this part of the route was broken, sterile and little culti
vated. We saw two fellows drinking at a well, and their
modus operandi had for us at least the interest of no
velty. One of them descended into the well, dipped, up
the water in his dirty- red .skullcap, and handed it to his
companiori, who, in hi^ turn, performed the same opera
tion for the other.
The major part of the journey from the Piraeus to the
city is through groves of olive and fig-trees. The ground
on which they are planted was anciently a marsh, but it
is now dry and arable. The tomb of Menander and a
Cenotaph to Euripides attracted the eye and fed the
pride of the ancient Greek, as he passed along this road,
but his degenerate offspring have heard neither of the
one nor of the other, and no certain traces are left of
these monuments to point the devotions of the classic
traveller. The heights of the Cecropian Acropolis, crowned with
the venerahle columns of the Parthenon, had been full
in sight during the whole of our ride, and on issuing
from the olive groves, we found ourselves near the walls
of a city illustrated and embellished as no other spot on
earth has ever been, by the genius of a Miltiades, a The
mistocles, an Aristides, a Pericles, a Phidias,, a Plato, a
Sophocles,: and an endless catalogue bf names equally
brilliant. What scholar, with Demosthenes or Xeno
phon in his hand, has not felt, in the quiet of his own
closet, that he would give worlds for a single hour amid
the ruins of that city; let him imagine then, for language
would be powerless in an attempt to portray it, the deep
enthusiasm with which we approached so holy a spot.
Leaving Mount Lycabettus, the Museum Hill, and
the Areopagus — the sides of the two former perforated

IN THE NAVT. 209
With the eternal sepulchres of antiquity— on our right,
we entered the city by the Piraean gate, and halted in
the shade of the temple of Theseus, which stands near
it, in an open area between the wall and the inha
bited part of the town. Here we dismounted and
waited for the two commanders, accompanied by Mr.
J. as interpreter, to pay their respects to the Pacha, and
¦ obtain his permission to visit the Acropolis. The tem
ple of Theseus, built by Cimon after the battle of Sa
lamis, is of small proportions, being only ninety-seven
feet long, and about half as wide. The order is a pure
Doric, and not a stone was employed in its construction
but the finest Parian marble. The peristyle consists of
thirty-four columns, three feet in diameter and eigh
teen in height The temple is surrounded by an ample
basement, to which you ascend by a flight of several
steps. The sculpture in the friezes of the Pronaos and
Posticum relates to the history of Theseus, and was
originally of beautiful execution, but it is now conside
rably defaced. A few years ago one of the corners of
the building was struck with lightning, which injured
the entablature in that part and the angular column, dis
placing a portion of frieze in the former, and completely
¦ splitting one of the tambours of the latter. During the
three days that Mr. J. and myself remained in Athens,
we often stopped to contemplate this exquisite remnant
of antiquity, the most entire specimen remaining of the
archited;urai taste and genius of the Greeks; hut how
feeble would be the most vivid description, compared
with the emotions it awakened in our minds ! We never
passed it without pausing a few moments, and each re
peated survey only enhanced the admiration and delight,
with which we gazed upon the matchless harmony of its
proportions, and the inimitable elegance and finish of its
workmanship. The Ionic column is more graceful, and
the Corinthian more ambitious and showy than the Doric,
but there is in the latter a simplicity, a solidity, a ma
jesty, which give it, in my view, an immeasurable supe
riority over the other two. There is besides in this order
VOL. n. 19

210 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
a freedom from gaudy ornaments, which reinders it pe
culiarly appropriate in edifices consecrated to the worship
of the>»gods; who, if endowed with thd attributes of jus
tice and benevolence, must always be more pleased with
the humble offerings of grateful piety, than with the
costly sacrifices of opulence and pride.

The officers who went to visit the Pacha, retorned in
about half an hour with the requisite permission, and a
soldier to accompany us in the double capacity of guide
and guard. We took the path which lies along the wall
of the city, having the Acropolis just before us, and
Mars' Hill directly on our right. The sides of the latter
are in many places hewn perpendicularly, and there are
several ascents by means of steps cut in the native rock.
Xhe little church of St. Dionysius, the Areopagite con
verted by St Paul, has disappeared, and we could hear
of neither cave nor spring. On the highest point of the
rock there were two Turkish huts and a little patch of
tobacco. It was with unutterable feelings that we stood
upon the place where the most ancient and venerable
Court in Athens held its sessions, and where Paul's
" spirit was moved within him, when he beheld theeity
wholly given to idolatry." We almost fancied that we
could see the great Apostle to the Gentiles — ^not a whit
hehind his antagonists in learning, his lofty smrit kin^
dling with zeal for the honour of his Master, and his pow
erful understanding irradiated with the light of heaven —
disputing with the Stoics and the Epicureans and the
other sects of Philosophers, who came to hear what the
" babbler would have to say," and confound him with
the subtlety of their dialectics. ^
A little to the left of the first gate through which we
;)assed, is the cave where Apollo and Pan\were ancient-
y worshipped. The ascent to it is steep and difficult, and
there is nothing to repay the toil of climbing it, but the

IN THE NAVr. ; 2 J J.
recollections it awakens, and a number of smooth spots
of various forms and sizes, hewn on the sides of the cave,
and designed probably for the reception of votive offer
ings. From here the ascent up the rock of the Acropo
lis became much steeper. After various windings and
passing not less than four or five gates, we came to the
Propylaea, which, however, we did not then stop to ex
amine, for the anxiety we felt to get a nearer prospect
than we had before enjoyed of that glorious Tem
ple, the proudest triumph of Athenian architecture,
which, even in its ruins, is the most beautiful and the
most impressive object* in the universe. As the visiter
winds round the corner of the Propylaea, and catches the
first full view of its stupendous remains, the sentiments
with which it fills his mind are those of admiration and
awe; which, as he continues to gaze, increase in purity
and depth, till, lost in one delicious glow^f enthusiasm,
he scaircely knows " whether he is in the body or out of
it" This is not exaggeration. No painting, or statue,
or landscape — I might almost add, no poetical descrip
tion or burst of eloquence, ever affected me like this first
view of the Parthenon. Nor is the admiration occasion
ed by the entire view diminished by an examination of
the parts in detail: on the contrary, it is, if possible, in
creased; for, as you had before observed a pe^rfeet har
mony running through the whole design, jj^ou now per
ceive the same inimitable and uninterrupted perfection
extended to its minutest parts — the flutings of the co
lumns, the swell of the capitals, and all the endless orna
ments of the architrave, frieze and cornice. But that
which fills you with the purest delight in this minute
examination, is what remains of the bass-relief sculpture
on the frieze of the cell in the Pronaos. The figures
here are for the most part equestrian; and though some
tasteless barbarians have knocked off pieces for speci
mens, many of them are still almost entire. There is
nothing in Florence that surpasses, and little that equals
them. What fire! what truth! what delicacy! what
finish ! Surely the chisel of Phidias must have given the

S12 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
last touch to these matchless productions; and though
they have been exposed to the weather fbr more than
twenty centuries, they still retain all the freshness, With
which they issued from his unrivalled hand.
The Parthenon has not suffered much from the war.
Thirty-nine columns are still standing, viz. eleven on the
south, and nine on the north side, the two entire colon
nades of the Pronaos, the outer one of the Posticum,
and a solitary column of the inner one. Those at the
two ends support their whole entablatures, but the others,
for the most part, only the two lower members. The
tympanum of the west front, {hough considerably in
jured, still remains; but that of the east front, from
which Lord Elgin removed the two colossal female
statues, the Neptune, the Theseus, and the inimitable
Horse's Head, have fallen down since Hobhouse's visit
to Athens, 'vf the sculpture on the ninety-two me
topes of the frieze of the peristyle, representing the
Battle of the Lapithae and Centaurs, there are remain
ing, at present, only a few mutilated figures, and the
little, of which I have already spoken, on the inner frieze
of the Pronaos, is all that is left of the six hundred feet
originally surrounding the cell, and representing the
Panathenian festival. The remains of the walls and
pavement of the cell are most entire at the western end.
The door-way is twelve feet wide and twenty-four feet
high, and the marble slabs composing the pavement are
generally, about six feet long and five broad. The heaps
of marble fragments filling up the area of the cell, and
scattered about without the peristyle, are really aston
ishing. There is a pile of these ruins at the S. W. angle of the
Parthenon extending from the base to the entablature,
by means of which I managed to climb to the top of the
temple where I obtained a most extensive and beautifully
variegated prospect. There is a range of hills apparent
ly extending from Mount Pentelicus to the Munychian
Promontory, separating two valleys, terminated by Hy
mettus and Parnes. The former is uneven and sterile,

IN THE NAVY. 213
presenting a perfect contrast to the regular slopes, the
exuberant fertility, and the dark olive green of the
one on the opposite side. Indeed, the valley towards
Mount Parnes is the most beautiful I have ever beheld;
and standing, as I did, near the spot where the rival Di
vinities caused the olive to spring np, and the waters of
the sea tp gush forth, the contrast between its flourish
ing olive groves from two to three miles wide, and from
ten to fifteen in length, and the deserted harbour of the
Piraeus, forcibly reminded me of the preference former
ly given to Minerva over Neptune. But should Athens,
as is not impossible, again become the capital of a free,
enlightened, and powerful nation, may not the " Altar
of Oblivion" be rebuilt, and the smoke ofthe sacrifices
offered to the God of the Sea and the Goddess of Wis
dom, again be mingled as they curl up towards Heaven?

A few rods to the north of the Parthenon, is the joint
temple, called the Erectheum, at which we arrived, af
ter traversing heaps of modern ruins. It has suffered a
good deal by the late war between the Greeks and the
Turks. It is the most beautiful specimen of the Ionic
order extant, and though of much smaller proportions
than the Parthenon, it shows equally the exquisite taste
and genius of the Greeks. Of the part dedicated to
Minerva Polias, the five fluted columns at the east end,
are still standing, and support their architrave. Two
only of those at the other end remain, and they are with
out any part of the entablature. Small portions of the
walls of the cell may yet be seen, but its area is filled up
with piles of fallen marble.
Of the part dedicated to Neptune Erectheus, only
three columns, with portions of the roof and of the sepa
rating wall, are left The proportions of this temple are
small but exceedingly graceful, and the exquisite finish
given to every part of it, fills the spectator with the
purest admiration and delight. 19*

314 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
Contiguous to the Temple of Minerva, and forming
a sort of wing tg it, is the Pandroseum, a small chapel
dedicated to Pandrosea, third daughter of Cecrops, to re
ward her for her obedience to that Goddess. ' It was
originally supported by eight Cariatides. Three of them
only remain, and these are greatly injured. One of
those in the part facing the Parthenon, which existed
when Hobhouse was in Athens, has since fallen, and is
now lying on the ground. It will not, however, conti
nue there long, for every one who visits the Acropolis,
knocks off a piece for a specimen. Some of our offi
cers followed the general practice in this respect, and
Our Turkish soMier, not conceiving any other possible
motive for such conduct, inquired if we had no such
stones in America.

We had passed the Propylaea, as already stated, with^
out stopping to examine it minutely. It was the en
trance, as the term imports, of the ancient. Acropdlis.
The twelve fluted Doric columns, originally composing
its two colonnades, are all yet standing. The interco-
lumniations of those on the west side are filled up with
modern masonry, which formerly supported a terrace
mounting a battery. Those at the two extremities alone
have any part of their capitals remaining; and these, as
well as the flutings of all the columns, are much injured,
and support only fragments of the architrave. The east
side of the Propylaea has, in every respect, suffered much
less than the other. Of the columns, two have their ca
pitals entire, one is without its'capital, and those of the
three others are considerably mutilated. The ancient
marble wall on this side remains almost in its original
state, the five gate-ways, though partially filled up with
modern stone work, are still perfect, and the marble
stairs leading from one of them up to the highest area
of the Acropolis, have been but little injuredr At one
extremity of the Propylaea there is a square modern

IN THE NAVT. 215
tower built of ancient ruins by the Turks and Venetians,
formerly used for a prison, but now entirely unoc
cupied, The Temple of Victory stood a little to the north-
wjffd of the Propylaea. Two elegant fluted Doric co
lumns and one pilaster in the same style, supporting the
two lower members of the entablature, with insignificant
portions of the walls of the celia, are all that is left of
that once beautiful edifice.

Having completed our observations on the Acropolis,
we descended to the locanda and dined. In the after
noon, we visited nearly all- the antiquities, both within
and without the walls of the modern city, but could do lit
tle more than determine their localities. In this we were
greatly aided by Hobhouse's excellent description of the
ruins as they existed in 1809. Indeed, without his book
we should have been utterly at a loss how to proceed, as
our Greek cicerone knew little more about the antiquities
of his native city, than he did about the geography of
China. When the party returned on board in the evening,
Mr. J. and myself obtained permission to remain ashore
as long as the ship continued at Salamis. In traversing
the city to the locanda, we fell in with a Greek Doctor,
who took us to see a statue lately discovered standing
on its pedestal, where the angles of four houses met,
which, until demolished by the Revolution, had com
pletely concealed it. It represented a monster, the up
per parts of which were those of a man, and the lower,
those of a fish. The body and arms were finely exe
cuted, but on the whole, it did not appear to us to be a
work of much merit. It was probably an Erecthonius.
Near the temple of Theseus, we saw two women en
gaged in the operation of grinding wheat. 'Their mill
was simply two small circular stones, the upper one of
which was kept in its place by an iron spike inserted in

216 TWO TEAKS AND A HALF
the other, and turned by means of a wooden handle. It
was a scene that reminded us forcibly of that de
claration of our Saviour, in predicting the downfall of
Jerusalem, "Two women shall he grinding at a mill;
the one shall be taken, and the other left" Mills of
this description are very common at Athens, and I be
lieve in other parts of the East, but I do not recollect to
have seen them any where else.
We took lodgings in the locanda, where we hkd
dined. The cooking and accommodations were better
than we had reason to expect . after our visit to Corinth.
Several English travellers were lodged at the same place,
who carried hammocks with them,— a wise precaution,
and one which all others, would do well to imitate, in
travelling in Eastern countries.

Anxious to improve our time to the^utmost, during
our short stay at Athens, we were up at four o'clock, on
the ifoUowing morning. Having ascertained the locali
ties of all the principS antiquities on the preceding day,
we devoted one day to those on the Acropolis and without
the walls of the city, and another to those within the
walls and to making an excursion up Mount Hymettus.
The relics of ancient art still existing at Athens, ex
ceeded our highest expectations. But if their number
surpassed what we had been led to anticipate, what shall
I say of their beauty? It is really intoxicating. You
gaze, and admire, and enjoy, but without satisfying
either the eye or the mind. Could all "the books that
have been written on these remains, be collected, they
would of themselves form no inconsiderable library.
Years of research and labour, by men of taste, learning,
and genius, have been employed in the examination and
description of them. The works of Spon, Wheeler,
Chandler, and Dodwell, are familiar to every scholar,
while the gayer narratives of Chateaubriand and other
French travellers are enough to satisfy the taste for

IN THE NAVT. 217
pretty sentimentalism of all the fair patrons of circulating
libraries, and the elegant but more every-day description
of Hobhouse leaves little to be desired by the general
reader. I may, therefore, well be excused from attempt
ing any thing like a connected and circumstantial account
of the antiquities of Athens; or rather I should scarcely
be excused, if I should have the temerity to enter upon
such a labour.
The Bema where Demosthenes poured forth his burn
ing eloquence, still remains precisely as it was when that
Prince of Orators melted and fired the Athenian popu
lace by his unrivalled appeals to their passions, and his
vivid descriptions of the past glory and the impending
perils of their native city. There is no spot in Athens
tliat excites such deep emotions, and awakens such thrill
ing thoughts as this; The two parts of Pnyx, where the
people -were aceu.stomed to assemble before and after the
conquest of Athens by Lysander, the former command
ing a view of the sea, by pointing to which, the orators
sometimes produced such electric effects, may be dis
tinctly traced. The magnificent ruins of the Temple of
Olympian Jove on the banks of the Ilissus form one of
the most striking features in Athens. Sixteen Corin
thian columns ofthe purest Pentelic marble, more than
six feet in diameter and about sixty feet in height, stand
ing in isolated grandeur, could not but be an impres
sive object any where, but how much is their effect in
creased in the present case by the associations of place!
Just below these ruins is the Fountain, sacred to the
nymph Callirhoe, still called by its ancient appellation,
at which you arrive by crossing the Ilissus. Here was
once a marble reservoir built by Pisistratus, and a part
of one of the nine pipes that supplied it with water, as
well as the apertures of some of the others, are still visi
ble. The water oozes out in several places from the
sides of the projecting rock, and we saw a number of
Athenian women washing their clothes in the little dell
in front of the fountain. The Ilissus, whose name
awakens such a crowd of agreeable images, is a mere

818 TWO TEAKS AND A HALF
rivulet, whose bed was almost dry at Uje time of our
visit In our excursion up Mount Hymettus we ascended
only to the Monastery of St Cyriani, The honey of
Hymettus, still retains its fame for excellence, but we
were unable to get a taste qf it The slope of the moun
tain was covered with thyme and other fragrant shrubs
and flowers, and the air was loaded with the most deli
cious perfumes. Our ears were soothed with the mur
mur of the bees, as they flew from flower to flower, ex
tracting the sweet essence of each blossom on which they
lighted, and as we called to mind the effect on this moun
tain of the glorious sunset we had witnessed at the
theatre of Herodes Atticus, we could not but consider it
as pre-eminently entitled to the epithets, anciently given
to it, of the " purple" and the "flowery" Hymettus.
The Monastery is situated in a romantic glade, about
two-thirds of the way up to the summit, and is surround
ed by a grove of aged oliveg. Near it we had the satis
faction of beholding the spring, supposed to have been
the scene ofthe fatal adventure of Procris and Cephalus.
It still retains its sacred character, and is said to be
favoured annually with the descent of two miraculous
doves. The matrons of Athens resort to it en masse on
the festival of the Panagia, and having washed in and
drunk of its holy waters, they depart, persuaded that
they will thereby escape a .great part of that " sorrow,"
which Eve entailed upon her daughters, as one of the
most grievous consequences of her disobedience.

We had not time to devote much attention to modern
Athens. It has suffered greatly from the war, nearly
half of it being a pile of ruins. A large proportion of
the materials of which the city is built are ancient mar
bles, and it is no uncommon thing to see exquisite pieces
of sculpture inserted in walls composedtof unwrought
stones and mud. Athens was still under the Turks, but

IN THE NAVT. 219
not more than four or five hundred of them resided there
at the time of our visit. The Greek population, we were
informed, consisted of two thousand families, but we
could scarcely believe there was half that number. They
were, as they still continue to be, greatly oppressed by
their masters, but nothing can destroy the elastic buoy
ancy of the Greek's spirits. On the tenth, we were over
taken by night at the ruins of the temple of Jupiter
Olympius. Not choosing to traverse the city for fear of
losing our way or encountering still more disagreeable
adventures, we made the whole circuit of the walls to
the Theseiun, passing, however, part of the distance in
side of them. In the skirts of the town we saw the pea
sants collected in groups before their little huts after the
labour ef the day^; — some engaged in conversation, —
some tripping it "on light fantastic toe" to the music of
the Turkish guitar,— some formed into circles around
then- humble suppers, — and others stretched on mats,
spread in the open air or under temporary coverings
formed of the boughs of trees. Their dogs, horses, and
jackasses kept them company. Peace,'' contentment, and
gladness seemed to be every where the presiding genii.

( 220 )

CHAPTER XII.

At daylight on Sunday morning, the fwelfth of July,
we got under weigh for Egina. In the afternoon we
rounded Cape Perdicca, the southeastern point of the
island, and came to anchor about three miles above the
town. On the following morning I went ashore in com
pany, with a number of officers. The harbour of Egina
is wholly artificial, being formed by a mole on each side.
The entrance is narrow, and the harbour itself is so small
that some two or three dozen coasting vessels, moored
within its enclosure at the time of our visit, almost filled
it up. It has a fine broad quay,, (covered with gravel,)
which was built by our fellow-citizen. Dr. Howe, who
has distinguished himself by his philanthropic exertions
in the cause of Grecian emancipation, and is known to
the literary world as the author of a valuable work on
the Greek Revolution. We often heard his name men
tioned in terms of grateful commendation by the inha
bitants of Egina.
The capital of this island, was, with the exception of
Napoli di Romania, the cleanest and best looking town,
we had seen in Greece. The streets were wider than
usual, and several of the shops were furnished with a
good supply of European merchandise. The population
was variously stated at from one to two thousand souls.

There is an Orphan Asylum at Egina, founded by
Capodistrias. The building appropriated to its use was
constructed of stones obtained from the ruins of the tem
ple of -^acus, and is three hundred and sixty feet long,
and two hundred and fifty broad, enclosing an area three

TWO TEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVT. 221
hundred feet in length, and one hundred and eighty-five
in breadth. It contains thirteen apartments for the boys,
and twelve for the professors. It is sufficiently capa
cious to accommodate six hundred orphans. Four hun
dred were enjoying its benefits, when we were in Egina.
There were at that time seven professors, the majority
of whom were Greek priests. There is an apartment
called the grand chamber, where the younger boys are
instructed on the Lancasterian plan. The beneficiaries
of this institution are prohibited from reading the works
of Plato, of many of the Greek poets, and generally of
all those ancient writers, who inculcate liberal principles
on government. The expenses of this institution are de
frayed from the public treasury. There is a library con
nected with it, containing thirty thousand volumes, most
of which are in the Greek language. At the extremity
of the apartment appropriated to the library, there is a
bust of Capodistrias on a monument coated with stucco,
in which is inserted a marble slab with an inscription, of
which the following is a literal translation: " The bust of
Capodistrias, President of Greece, Father and Saviour of
the Orphans. 1830." The institution is certainly one
possessing high claims to the gratitude of the Greek
nation, and would do infinite honour to the memory of
the deceased President, were it not for the illiberal pro
hibition already mentioned.
In the same apartment with the library, there is a
large collection of Lares, lachrymatorial vases, sepulchral
lamps, and other funereal relics, obtained chiefly, though
not wholly, from the Catacombs in the island of Egina.
They differ widely in their size, shape and the materials
of which they are made. Some are of iron, others of
extremely thin glass, but the major part are of terra cotta
of various degrees of firmness. The lachrymatorial vases
are generally long and slender, of delicate proportions,
with two handles, long necks, and flaring mouths. The
.vases designed for preserving the ashes of the dead, are
generally open; but those for the reception of odours are
usually in the shape of Florence flasks. The lamps are
VOL. II. 20

222 TWO YEAB#-A«D A HALF

»

all of terra cotta in the form of an elliptical curve.
The hole for the wick is on the pointed end ; the handle
is on the opposite side; and on the top some of them have
two holes for pouring in the oil, others only one, and
others again appear to have had no other place for re
ceiving it, except the aperture for the wick. The en
trance to the Asylum is on the south, opposite to which
is the chapel, and on each side of this there is a largei
apartment, open in front, and supported by four pilasters.
In these there is a considerable collection of ancient
marbles, obtained from various parts of Greece, — Egina,
Athens, Delphi, Delos, Epidaurus, &e. Among those
particularly worthy of notice, are the following: First,
a Venus washing at a fountain. The head of this statue
is broken off, but nearly all the other parts, though some
what mutilated, still remain. The upper part is executed
with a delicacy and truth, that would not have disgraced
the chisel of Praxiteles; but the lower part, particularly
the right leg and foot, are in a heavier style: Second, a
family group, in alto-relievo, on a sepulchral monument,
consisting of four female figures, and an old man leaning
on a staff. The scene represents the final adieu of one
member of the family, and the expression of grief thrown
into the countenances of the survivors, is full of tender
ness and pathos : Third, a statue of a female who has lost
her head, breasts, and right arm, and is in other respects
a good deal injured; but enough still remains to show
that it was entitled to a place among the master pieces of
the arts: Fourth, a young warrior and his horse in alto-
relievo, with a boy presenting his helmet, and a serpent,
an Esculapian emblem, approaching towards his right
hand: And fifth, a young Bacchus executed with pecu
liar delicacy and grace.
There are in Egina two Lancasterian schools for boys,
each containing about one hundred pupils; but female
education is entirely neglected. The national mint is in
this island.

IN THE NAVT. 223
There are some interesting remains of antiquity in
and about the city. On a hill just back of it are the Ca
tacombs, from which most of the vases already described
were obtained. The sepulchres are very extensive, and
of various forms and dimensions. We descended into
one by five steps cut in the native rock. It was of an
irregular circular shape, thirty-eight feet in circumfe
rence, and four high in the highest part. In the north
west part of the town there is a Mosaic pavement, re
cently discovered, covering an area fourteen paces in
length and eight in width. It is a work of some ele
gance, and may have been the pavement of a temple. It
has been enclosed by a wall by order of Capodistrias.
Not far beyond this, in the same direction, are the re
mains of what some travellers have taken for the temple
of Venus, mentioned by Pausanias, and others for that
of .^acus, first king of the island; who was honoured
with an apotheosis. It is evidently of high antiquity, as
the proportions of the only column that remains, are
very incorrect. The order is fluted Doric. Some por
tions of the cell are yet standing. The temple was built
of the common soft stone of the island, and its ruins
have furnished the materials, of which a number of the
public edifices of Egina have been constructed.

On Tuesday, the fourteenth of the month, accompa
nied by Dr.  , I left the ship early in the morning,
in order to take advantage of the cool of the day to visit
the temple of Jupiter Panhellenius, in the north-east
part of the island. We procured a pair of mules for our
selves, their owners, as usual, accompanying us on foot.
Our animals were caparisoned with rope halters and old
wooden pack saddles, with two narrow oak boards for
seats and goats' hair cords for stirrups. They were the
most obstinate creatures in the world, travelling continu
ally in a zig-zag line, all our efforts to the contrary not-

224 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
withstanding; and each of us got a pretty stout kick in
the course of the journey.
The temple is about eight miles3rom the town. Our
ride over the intervening country was in many respects
highly interesting. I scarcely recollect to have any
where else met with such a variety of scenery in so small
a space. The sublime, the romantic and the picturesque
met the eye at almost every successive point The*
• whole island, wherever there is soil enough to allow it,
is covered with groves of olives, pomegranates and al-
•mond trees, interspersed with thickets of myrtle, olean
der, mastich and other evergreen shrubs. We passed
through three distinct valleys, separated from each other
by mountain defiles, and surrounded by lofty hills,
whose sides exhibited all the gradations of productive
ness. About midway between the city and the temple; we
passed the old capital of the island, Kastro, built upon
the summit of a high conical mountain. It was placed in
that situation by the Venetians, that they might the more
easily protect themselves against the incursions of pi
rates; but, motives of this kind no longer existing to in
duce people to make choice of so singular a spot for their
residence, it has been entirely abandoned.
On issuing from the defile beyond the last of the ro
mantic vales through which we had passed we obtained a
view ofthe sea on both sides of the island, and ofthe tem
ple of Panhellenain Jove about a mile and a half before us.
This stands upon an eminence, which commands an exten
sive prospect of the lEgean w^ith its islands, and of the
territories of Attica, Megara and Corinth; The temple is
an interesting ruin, as it illustrates the progress of archi
tecture. It is not probably so old as that at Corinth,
but it is undoubtedly one of the most ancient in Greece.
Its high antiquity is proved by the proportions of the
columns, which are three feet in diameter and fifteen in
height, being one diameter too short for the pure Doric.
It appears to have been originally supported by thirty-

IN THE NAVT. 225
six columns, twenty-three of which are still standing.
They are of the common stone of the island, and se
veral of them far advanced in a state of decomposition.

On our return to Egina, we called for dinner at the
principal public house in the place. It had no floor ex
cept the native earth, and the tables and seats with
which it was furnished, were of rough boards. We call
ed for soup among other things, and it was brought on
in the howl in which but a few moments before we had
washed our hands. We did not make a very abundant
repast. As usual, our landlord attempted to cheat us in
retarning the change for our money.
The commerce of Egina, though not equal to what it
formerly was, is rather on the increase. The chief pro
ductions of the island are oil, pomegranates and almonds.

On Thursday, the sixteenth, we sailed from Egina
early in the morning, and ran over to Epidaurus to wa
ter ship. The coast there is so bold that we approached
within less than a quarter of a mile of the beach, and an
chored in seventeen fathoms water. Capt. W. thought
the anchorage unsafe, and determined to remain there
only a single day. After dinner, the surgeon, one of
his assistants, and myself, took advantage of this short
stay, to pay a visit to the Saratoga of ancient Greece, — .
the sacred enclosure of the Epidarian God. We landed
on the promontory, where the ancient city stood, and
where we noticed the remains of buildings along the
beach. Ruins of temples are said to exist higher up, but
we had not time to go in search of them. The port of
Epidaurus was on the opposite side of the promontory.
The modern town stands somewhat higher up in the
plain than the ancient It is a wretched village consist
ing of not more than two or three dozen houses. The
30*

226 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
inhabitants appeared less civilized than in almost any
other part of Greece that we visited. Epidaurus was
anciently the re'Sort of invalids and people of leisure and
fashion from all parts of Greece and her numerous col
onies, and it was from a village within its territories that
the patriots of modern Greece published the declaration
of their independence and the charter of their rights.
We procured a set of miserable horses, and a young
lad for a guide, who accompanied us on foot. The dis
tance to the sacred enclosure is about ten miles, which by
hurrying our nags, we travelled in a little more than
two hours. Our ride, during the first half of the jour
ney, lay through the Epidaurian Plain, which is nar
row, uneven, and, with the exception of some flourishing
low vineyards, little cultivated. About an hour from
the village we left the groves of myrtle, oleander, and
lentisks, through which we had been passing, and enter
ed a mountain pass, in which we frequently observed
traces of the fortifications, with which it was anciently
lined. The road, in this part of our ride, was exceed
ingly bad, and the scenery marked by a character of
wildness and grandeur. On each side of us, frowned a
lofty mountain, and on our right, at a terrific distance, a
torrent, whose existence we knew only by its brawling
noise, was dashing over its-rocky bottom.
The sacred enclosure is an irregular valley, which
may be from two to three miles in length, and from one
to two in breadth. It is very beautiful, and appears like
a little paradise, hemmed in on all sides by mountain
barriers, whose summits are, for the most part, naked
rocks, but whose sides are covered with a thick growth
of shrubbery. Among these mountains, the most re
markable are Arachne and Tettyon, on the latter of
which, the infant Esculapius was found, suckled by a
goat, and guarded by a dog belonging to a herdsman of
Epidaurus. On entering the valley, the most conspicu
ous object is the ruin, considered the remains of the
Hospital for lying-in women and dying persons, erect
ed by Antoninus Pius. It stands near the centre of

IN THE NAVT. 237
of valley. Near it are considerable remains of the
Bath of Esculapius, built by the same Emperor. It
was an oblong building, divided into a great number of
apartments, and a part of the stone conduit, by which
it was supplied with water, may still be seen in the
walls. The principal object of our visit was to see the theatre
built by Polycletus. Its Koilon was excavated in the
tail of a hill projecting out from the surrounding moun
tains. Its remains are the most perfect of the kind that
we saw any where in Greece. The material of which
it was built is a coarse pink-marble, and it was finished
with an elegance surpassing that of any other ancient
theatre I have ever seen. For a particular description
of it the reader is referred to the work of Mr. Dodwell.
Our time was too limited to allow us to search much
for antiquities — we did not find the remains of the Sta
dium, nor the marble pavement mentioned by Mr. Dod
well, but the extensive foundations, the ruins of aque
ducts, the fragments of the shafts, capitals and entabla
tures of Doric and Ionic columns, and the numerous
slabs of marble, with which the valley was covered,
attested the ancient magnificence of the place.

Early on the morning of the seventeenth, we sailed
from Epidaurus. We spent the whole day in beating,
and at night were becalmed. On the eighteenth, when
I went on deck, " Sunium's marbled steep" was seen
some distance ahead. A breeze sprang up after break
fast, and we passed the cape at eleven o'clock, close
under the Temple of Minerva. We counted twelve
columns standing, and saw immense masses of marble,
scattered about in the vicinity, and glittering in the
bright sun-light. This temple, even in its ruins, is an
imposing object, as seen by the passing voyager from
the deck of his vessel, and in the days of its glory, must
have been an object of peculiar veneration to the Athe-

228 TWO TEARS AND A HALF
nian sailor. Situated at the extremity of the Attic ter
ritory, it was the last object upon which he gazed when
bound upon a distant voyage, and the first that greeted
his eye, when returning to the bosom of his friends in
his own loved Athena. On the evening of this day we
parted company with the Boston, she stretching away
for Marathon, and we for the island of Tenedos.

The three following days we had a gale of wind ahead,
and were beating along the coasts of Mytilene, the an
cient Lesbos, and Asia Minor. The former is rocky and
barren, but the latter, though uncultivated, is very rich,
and, covered as it is with forests of the Velany oak, pro
duces a delicious effect With the island of Lesbos are
associated some of the most interesting recollections of
Grecian history and the most beautiful fictions of Gre
cian "mythology. In the catalogue of its illustrious
citizens, are the names of several distinguished for their
attainments in wisdom, poetry and music; and the birth
place of Pittacus, Alcasus, Sappho, Arion and Terpander,
can never cease to be an object of lively interest. It was
to this island that the waves of the sea, as if conscious of
the precious treasure committed to them, bore the head
and the lyre of Orpheus, after the former had been torn
from the body by Bacchantes, on the shores of Thrace.
They struck the beach near the little town of Methymna,
whose inhabitants were attracted to the spot where they
lay, by the sweet tones of the lyre -when the wind play
ed among its chords. The lyre was suspended by the
Methymnians in the temple of Apollo, and the Muses
buried the head of the most favourite of their sons. The
vales of Lesbos were hung with .Slolian harps, and the
Nine Sisters were accustomed to honour with their pre
sence and their music the Lesbian funerals.

IN THE NAVT. 229
Late at night, on Tuesday, the twenty-first, we came
to an anchor in the Straits of, Tenedos, directly opposite
the Tumulus called by the Turks On Tepe, and about
two miles distant from it. The next morning, the French
Consul, and a person uniting in himself the dignities of
English, Russian and Austrian Consuls, came off from
Tenedos to visit -us, and brought intelligence that the
plague was raging at Smyrna, and various other places
along the coasts of Asia, Palestine and Egypt This
news was like cold water to our warmest hopes and most
fondly cherished anticipations. We had expected to
stand on the summit of Lebanon, to wander amid the
ruins of Tyre, to drink of " cool Siloa's" sacred waters,
to survey the plain of Judea from the heights of Mount
Zion, and to trace the windings of the Nile and gaze
upon the territories over which Pharaoh reigned, from
the burial-places of the Egyptian kings — the everlasting
Pyramids. Such is the ground which Captain W. had
marked out for our second cruise, but an instant was suf
ficient to dissolve the whole fabric of our hopes.
We were unfortunate also in another respect. The
Sultan had been at Tenedos only a few days before our
arrival there; and as he had frequently expressed a wish
to see one of our men of war at his capital, it is not im
probable that he would have visited the Constellation,
and invited her up to Constantinople.
The trifold dignitary of whom I have already spoken,
did not appear to consider himself at all degraded by
taking our clothes ashore to wash, which in due time
were returned without having been either starched or
ironed. Consuls in the Levant are not generally persons
of the most unbending dignity in the world. They are
for the most part native Greeks, and the only benefit
they usually derive from their office is the protection of
the flag it authorizes them to hoist, and the consideration
it gives them among their fellow citizens. Our Consul
at Milo was a pilot on board the Boston.

230 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
The Constellation remained only three days in the
Straits of Tenedos. The first was chiefly employed in
making preparations for future operations, so that we had'
only two to devote to ttfe interesting district of the
Troad, a period barely sufficient to enable us to glance at
some of th^ principal antiquities, bat scarcely allowing
us to examine any of them with much minuteness. The
Troad is at present thinly peopled, and but small por
tions of it are cultivated. The remainder is chiefly cover
ed with forests of low ilex and Velany oaks.* The
acorns of the latter are extensively used in dying, and
are therefore an important article of commerce. We
saw two English brigs taking on board cargoes of them.
A few wretched villages are scattered over this natural
ly beautiful and fertile region, the only present repre
sentative of the numerous superb cities, by which it was
once adorned and enlivened. The general characteris
tics of the Troad, considered in respect to ancient re
mains, may be expressed in few words: It is a vast
forest of antiquities, consisting of the remains of cities,
the foundations of buildings, the shafts and capitals of
columns of all orders, granite soroi, inscribed marbles,
and a multitude of other marble and granite fragments,
too much ruined to admit of classification.

The Troad, like Athens, is beaten ground. History,
perhaps, does not furnish a parallel to the eagerness with
which researches have been pushed in relation to this in
teresting region. Industry has exhausted her powers,
and learning her treasures, in identifying its localities
and illustrating its antiquities. I will not, therefore, tax
the reader's patience by entering into minutiae on these
topics. We spent one day among the ruins of the city
of Antigonus — Alexandria Troas — and one in making
an excursion to Bonarbashy, the site, according to Le
Chevalier, of the capital of Priam. The remains at the
former of these places are very extensive, and richly re-

" urfM NAVT. W '231
pay the labour of visii^ then^ The ruins of the edi
fice, commonly known «der the name of the Palace of
Priam, but now generallMj^ght to have been a Bath
or a Gymnasium, are sti9|^Lis. It was built wholly
of stones of very^arge,^j^ni^^ons, composed of con
glomerations of shells. The Tlieatre, abcj^ t^fee-fourths
of a mile from this ruin, is also a highly inte^^ng relic.
The proportions, though less beautiful, arfe'lwger than
those of the theatre at Sicyon, and the situamJu is, if pos
sible, superior. The prospect commanded by the ridge
of the Koilon, is most extensive, and full of interesting
classical reminiscences. A spectator, standing on this
point and facing the west, has immediately before him
the island of Tenedos, beyond which, blue in the dis
tance, appear Lemnos, Imbros, Thasos, and the lofty
mountains of Samothrace: on his Jeft stretches the^gean,
till its waters seem to rest on the far-off horizon : on his
right, directly beneath his eye, is a forest of dwarf and
Velany oaks, near the centie of which shoot up,"in iso
lated sublimity, the ruins of the palace of Priani, and
still farther on in the same direction he has a map-like
view of the whole district of the Troad, with the Sigean
and Rhoetean promontories, and the Tumuli of jEsyetes,
Ajax, Achilles, and Patroclus: while, by reversing his
position, he may behold, in beaptiful gradation, the suc
cessive summits of the Idaeari-ichain, fabled to have been
the steps by which Juno ascended to the snowy heights
of Gargarus. .
Bonarbashy is an insignificant village on the banks of
the Scamander, but, from an inspection of the ground, I
have no hesitation in avowing my conviction of the cor
rectness of Le Chevalier's opinion that it is the site of
Priam's Capital, that the heights beyond it are the Acro
polis of that city, and that the two springs in its vicinity
are the " Fountains" mentioned by Homer, which Hec
tor passed when chased by Achilles round the walls of
Troy.

232 * '*' ' TWO TEARatfffA HALF
As isoon as the deck^vere swept down after break
fast, onlSaturday, the twen^JjRh, all hands were again
called to " up anchor," a^^E made an attempt to beat
Up to the mouth of the ^^H^plles. As the breeze was
light, a contrary curren^^^pj^jjte^s considerably to
the leewa^ lATenedos, '#hen, nnrnffgit impossible to
succeedj«'!^» attempt, we wore ship, and stood away
for VoiMa-,^^pnere we arrived 'on the twenty-eighth.
Here we ouffiurselves in quarantine on account of the
plague" at Srnyrna, and waited the arrival of the Boston,
which came in on the following day from the island of
Syra. The plague was introduced into Smyrna by a letter to
a young lady from a friend of hers in Ephesus. She was
the first victim to its ravages. Its effects were confined
almost entirely to the ^native population. The Turks
'buried theirk^ead at night, and the only mode of ascer
taining the number of deaths was by the Consuls' send
ing theiofDragomen to watch the burial-places by night.
Thejwo great scourges of Smyrna are the plague and
eartffquakes. The latter are very common there, but
generally light, dbimg little other mischief than that of
throwing open the doors of the houses, and breaking
now and then a pane of window glass. There was one,
however, unusually sev^e^aj^^att'iime before our arri
val there in April, whi^occasiori"ed great alarm for se
veral days. People lay down at night with every thing
in readiness for a sudden flight

On the first day of July we left our anchorage in the
Bay of Vourla, intending to touch at some of the Gre
cian islands, on our passage down to Mahon. On the
morning of the second, when I turned out, we were close
under the town of Scio. This a few years ago was in
habited by a crowded and busy population, but it was
now an utter desolation. There was a line of white for
tifications along the beach, over which waved the Mos-

. IN THE NAVY. 233
lem crescent, and we observed some half dozen cai
ques and two or three misticoes jn t;he harbour. The
town was beautifully situated at the bottom of a narrow
sloping valley, backed by a range of high and barren
rocks. Luxuriant olive groves covered this valley,
which was thickly sowed with villages, populous and
flourishing in the days of Scio's glory, but now almost
without an inhabitant. To the north of the town is the
green wooded eminence on which the college stood.
This institution had a high reputation not only in Greece,
but in all the countries of civilized Europe. Its profes
sors were numerous and well educated, and many Eu
ropeans sent their sons there to learn ancient Greek.
It had a library of sixty thousand volumes, which was
utterly destroyed during Hassan's massacre, — the most
dreadful recorded on the page of history.
The inhabitants of Scio, were the most intelligent, re-
, fined and luxurious of the modern Greeks. Ofthe ancient
Sciotes, Pliny says that during a period of seven hundred
years, no case of female infidelity was known to occur
among them. The Sciote women of modern times have
been equally celebrated for the same virtue, but the mi
serable remnant of the exiled daughters of Scio, without
father or friend to protect them, were reduced to tlje
melancholy alternative of choosing between beggary and
prostitution; and who will wonder that many of them
preferred the latter? The circumstance that they were
the first to disgrace the name of their country cannot
fail to excite in every generous bosom, however stern
may be the moral creed it has adopted, the tear Of sym
pathy rather than the frown of anger.
The straits of Scio are thirty miles long. The sce
nery on both sides is undoubtedly beautiful, but its beau
ty has been greatly exaggerated by Dr. Clarke. The
breeze freshened up a little after noon, and we stood for
the western extremity of Samos. This island, at a dis
tance, appeared as if an earthquake had heaved it from
the bosom of the deep, its mountains towering to a
height that surpassed that of any other island we had
VOL. II. 21

234 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
seen in the Archipelago, except Samothrace. We coast
ed close along its northern side as far as the capital. Had
Dr. C. reserved his raptures till he reached this island,
he might have lavished them with more propriety upon
its enchanting scenery. The sublime and the beautiful
seem here to have contended for dominion, and each to
have poured forth its peculiar charms, with a most lavish
jDrodigality. Samos is one of the most fertile and best cultivated
islands in the Archipelago. It exports- oil, wheat,
onions, and spirits, but its chief commerce consists in its
wines', still famed for their excellence. These are ex
ported to all the islands of Greece, and to the continents
of Europe and Asia.
We ran far enough up the Bay of Ephesus, which is
formed by a sweeping indenture on the coast, .to see
where that ancient metropolis stood, and then wore ship,
and began to beat toward the Cyclades. The next day.
we were becalmed off Nicaria, an island whose naked
rocks and utter sterility presented a strong contrast to
the verdant and fertile^. slopes of Samos. There are a
few inhabitants on it, and it has a little commerce in
charcoal. Sunset on this evening was a most splendid
and lovely scene. The sun went down over the cliffs
of Delos, and as the eye was turned in that direction, the
broad surface of the ..^Egean appeared like a sea of molten
gold, gently agitated by a passing zephyr. There were
in sight, at various distances and in different directions,
the islands of Andros, Tenos, Mycone, Paros, Naxos,
Nicaril, Samos, Scio, and the loftier portions of the coast
of Asia Minor.

The following day, Monday, was the fourth of July,
and it was one of the most delightful of my life. We
had a fine breeze from the northward, and sailed through
the whole group of the Cyclades, running close along the
coasts of the most interesting of the islands that compose

IN THE NAVY. 235
it Mycone, rocky, barren and thinly inhabited, we
passed early in the morning, leaving it at some distance
on our starboard beam. A little beyond this, on the o^
posite side, we brushed* along the coast of Tenos, an
ciently cele^jrated for the worship of Bacchus. Under
the temple of that God, which stood upon a sloping hill
near the sea, there was a fountain, whose waters once a
year were miraculously converted into wine. This was
dealt out in copious measures to the populace, who were
allowed a drunken frolic for several days, and taught to
call it piety. Tenos is a large and fertile island, next
to Samos in beauty, and superior to it in cultivation. It
almost rivals the latter in height, but its slopes are more
regular, and completely covered with vineyards and
olive-groves. Numerous villages are scattered among
them, and there is one, romantically situated on the very
summit, just below a craggy rock. The capital stands
on the water's edge. It is small, and has no port, but
its neat whitewashed houses, glittering in the clear rays
of the sun, produced a pleasing effect, as we passed them.
Its church, standing on an eminence back of the town, is
the common boast of all the Greeks, and the great Lion
of the Levant. It is visible far out at sea, and its lofty
domes and steeple, white as new-fallen snow, show to
admirable advantage. The bosom of the Greek sailor
swells with feelings of exultation and pride, as his eye
catches the first glimpse of this, the most beautiful of
his country's temples. Tenos produces wine and oil in
abundance, and is celebrated in the East for its manufac
tures of silk.
Delos and Rhenea are about six miles south of Tenos.
Mount Cynthus is but a low hill, and the birth-place of
Apollo and Diana is now in possession of shepherds,
while the cemetery of the ancient Delians is tenanted
only by a few devotees, whose vows exclude them from
the world, and whose living is confined to fruits and
vegetables. Abouttwo hours after passing these islands, we grazed
along the coast of Syra; This is less beautiful and fertile

236 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
than Tenos, and the country less thicMy peopled; but
the town ' appeared more' than twice as large as that
of the latter, Syra has one of the finest harbours in the
Archipelago. We saw numerbus merchantmen and se
veral men of war at anchor in it. The productions of
this island are not very abundant, but the Excellence of
its port and its central position have made it the entre
pot of all Greece, and it is rapidly becoming a place of
commercial importance.
We passed Naxos, Paros and Thermia, but at too great
a distance to see them very distinctly. We got a nearer
view of Serfo and Sefanto, the Seriphos and Syphnos of
antiquity. It was in the former of these islands that Per
seus is said to have changed the inhabitants into rocks
with the head of Medusa, and the appearance which it
presents at the present day, does not belie the fable.
Serfo is thirty-six miles in eircuniference, and contains
a population of somewhat more than two thousand souls.*
It has but one town, with a tolerable port. Almost its
only production is wine, which the natives export to all
parts of insular and continental Greece. Its wine, both
white and red, is of an ordinary quality, and is used only
by those who cannot affiard to drink better. It has no
schools. Sefanto was anciently celebrated for the purity of its
climate, the beauty of its scenery, the fertility of its soil,
the excellence of its fruits, and the riches, licentiousness
and longevity of its inhabitants. It had extensive mines
of gold and silver, which Apollo destroyed by an inun
dation, because its inhabitants refused to pay the custo
mary tribute of the tenth of their produce to the Del
phian shrine. With its mines, it must have lost much
of its fertility and beauty. It is less rocky than Serfo,
but the parts which we saw did not exhibit tokens of
much higher cultivation.
Sefanto has thirty-two miles of circumference, with a
population of something like six thousand souls. It has
comparatively little arable soil, but is said to contain a
number of handsome gardens. It is famed for the ex-

IN THE NAVY. 237
cellence of its onions. Of these it exports annually about
half a dozen cargoes, as also a considerable quantity of
figs, and in favourable seasons a little oil. Its other pro
ductions are not ordinarily more than sufficient for three
months' consumption. It derives its support from the
manufacture of coarse white cotton cloth, straw hats, and
earthenware. These it exports to all parts of the Le
vant. It produces large numbers of goats, which are
likewise made an extensive article of commerce. The
women of Sefanto are said to be the most industrious of
Greek females. It has two Lancasterian schools, recent
ly established, and a classical school of some celebrity,
founded several years ago, where a number of the dis
tinguished men of Greece have been educated.

Midway between Sefanto and Milo, the fine breeze
we had had in the morning died away, and it was amus
ing to listen to the prayers of one of our pilots for wind.
Counting his beads, he would say, " Blow, S. Antonio,
blow — wake up, S. Antonio, and blow — I want to get
to Milo, to see my wife and children." He said that if
his wife knew he was there, she would put a cat under
a basket, and the wind would soon blow. His prayers
were finally answered, and towards sunset a light breeze
sprang up, but it was midnight before the ship came to
an anchor in the harbour of his native island.
The harbour of Milo is one of the finest I have ever
seen. It is completely land-locked, and capacious enough
for half the navies in Europe to he moored in it at the
same time. On the morning after our arrival, in com
pany with Dr.  , I went ashore at a little village on
the beach, built by Candiot Refugees, and containing
from forty to fifty inhabitants. It is at the foot of a hill
nearly a mile in circumference, as regular as an artificial
mound, and surrounded, except where it is washed hy
the sea, by a valley about a quarter of a mile wide. Four
misticoes and a few caiques were the only vessels in its
21*

238 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
port The sides of the hill on which it is built, are per
forated with ancient catacombs, Ijje largest one of which
we measured, and found it to ije seventeen feet deep, six
high, and nine wide at the entrance, but fifteen in the
widest part.
We proceeded to Kastro, the capital of the island, dis
tant an hour from this village. Ourtoute w'as circuitous,
leading us over barren hills of tufo and breccia, whose
summits were covered with large quantities of obsidian.
We called upon the French Consul General, the Cheva
lier M. Louis Brest, by whom we were received with a
politeness, characteristic of the country of which he was
a native. M. Brest has superintended the excavation of
a great many catacombs, and has obtained from them
numerous antiquities, most of which are now in the Lou
vre at Paris. He has long resided in the Levant, and it
is from him that I obtained most of the statistical infor
mation, already detailed in this work, in relation to
some of the Grecian Islands. His eldest son politely
accompanied us on a visit to the catacombs and other an
tiquities of the island.

The town of Kastro, as already stated in a former
chapter, stands upon the summit of a high conical moun
tain. It is cleaner than any other Greek place we vi
sited, a superiority which it owes, perhaps, principally to
its situation. The streets are so steep that in many
places you ascend them by means of steps, cut in the na
tive rock. The houses are o^ stone, tolerably well built,
and about half of them whitewashed. The roofs are flat,
and composed of a texture of flags, upon which is placed
a covering of earth and gravel. Some of them are well
furnished, and their interior is neat and comfortable. The
people there have a custom of hanging their glass gob
lets on little pegs inserted in the walls, and rows of look
ing-glasses, with short intervals between them, may
sometimes be seen extending round a whole apartment

•
IN THE NAVY. 239

The females of Milo have generally only one of the ele
ments of beauty, — i. e, fine large black eyes.
On the summit of the cone, there is a tall pole, fixed
in the earth, and used by the pilots in determining who
shall have the piloting of the different ships that make
their appearance. Their mode, of deciding questions of
this kind is somewhat singular. They take their sta
tions for looking out on the roofs of the highest houses,
and when a vessel is discovered, whoever strikes the
pole first, is entitled to be her pilot. •
The island of Milo is of an irregular shape, and is
about sixty miles in circumference. With jhe exception
of a valley that extends two or three miles above the
head of the harbour, it is hilly and broken, though not
sufficiently so to forbid of its being cultivated. The na
tive population amounts to two thousand five hundred
souls, but it has recently been a good deal increased by re
fugees from other islands, chiefly Candia. It produces
grain, wine, flesh, fruits, legumes, and indeed every thing
except oil, in sufficient quantities for the wants of its in
habitants. It exports annually from two hundred and fifty
to three hundred tons of barley, about half that quantity of
cotton, and a little wool. Its chief commerce consists in
the exportation of mill stones, salt and gypsum. It sup
plies Greece and nearly the whole Ottoman Empire
with the first of these articles. It abounds in mines of
lead, copper and iron. The latter particularly is very
abundant, but none of the mines are wrought It has
two schools, one on the plan of mutual instruction, con
taining one hundred and ten scholars, and a classical
school, in which forty-seven lads are instructed in ancient
Greek and the sciences.

Milo was the last strong-hold of liberty in the Grecian
islands, but it was unable to withstand the arms and the
artifices of Athens, and fell finally under the dominion
of that tyrant Republic. It is at present one of the
most interesting of the Cyclades, both on account of the

240 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
ancient relics existing upon it,' and the natural pheno
mena with which it abounds.* Its principal antiquities
are the catacombs, the theatre, and the remains of the
ancient walls.
Milo appears to have been one vast cemetery. The
bases of its hills are every where perforated with sepul
chres, many of which have already been excavated, and
how many more are still waiting that operation, time
only will reveal. The relics found within them are pre- •
cisely similar to those already described as constituting
the collection of sepulchral antiquities in the Orphan
Asylum at Egina. These catacombs range through a
wide variety both of forms and dimensions. I will en
deavour briefly to describe two, one of which is supposed
to have belonged to a poor, and thte other to a rich fam
ily. The entrance to the former is through an exterior
sepulchre, with which it communicates by means of a
small rectangular door-way, four feet high and two and
a half vi?ide. It is twelve feet in lengtli, eight in width,
and just high enough to enable a common sized man to
stand upright in it. There are five indentures in the
walls, two on each side, and one at the extremity oppo
site the entrance. These are places of deposit for the
ashes of the dead and whatever was buried with them.
Those on the sides have circular arches, -while the arch
of that at the extremity is pointed, forming a very large
obtuse angle. This latter was the depository of the pa
rents, those on the right of this were for the daughters,
and those on the left for the sons. The eldest members
of the family were always buried nearest the entrance,
and the most valuable antiquities and ornaments are
always found in the vault of the eldest daughter. So
well do the fellows employed in making the excavations
understand this, that M. Brest assured us that, when
ever he had any catacombs opened, he never suffered
any of them to enter it before himself, even though they
went without lights.
The other sepulchre to which I alluded, was conjec
tured to have belonged to a rich family, from the value

IN THE NAVT. 241
of the ornaments found in it, and from its superior finish.
The entranceis through an arched way, and it has three
vaulted depositories on each of its sides. The walls are
covered with plaster and whitewashed. It is in other
respects similar to that just described, though of larger
proportions. The theatre was evidently never finished, as there are
no traces of seats more than one quarter of the way up
the slope of the Koilon, while those that do remain are
in a state of perfect preservation. It is small but of
harmonious proportions and elegant workmanship. The
view which it commanded was not extensive, but hand
some, embracing the slope of the hill, a part of the har
bour, and the lofty heights of Mount Elias on the oppo
site shore.
The remains of the ancient walls are of Cyclopean
construction, and very extensive. They are irregular
in their line of direction, and exhibit two styles of ma
sonry, polygonal and rectangular.
Milo is a field of uncommon richness and interest to
the naturalist It is evidently of volcanic origin. It
abounds in minerals, warm baths, sulphur and alum.

Having waited three days for a fair wind, on Tues
day, the twelfth, we weighed anchor and beat out
Paros was our destination. We grazed along the coast
of Argentiera, and were becalmed off that of Sefanto.
The original appellation of Argentiera was Cimoli.
It was so called from the Cimolean earth found there.
This was anciently used in fulling, but it is now export
ed in considerable quantities to the Greek islands as a
substitute for soap, when salt water is used. It received
its modern name from the Venetians, in consequence of
their having found a rich silver mine on it. The island
is eighteen miles in circuit, arid contains nine hundred
inhabitants. Like Milo, it produces every thing neces
sary to supply the wants of its population, and its fruits

242 TWO YEARS AND A HALF
are said to have a flavour superior to that of those in
any other part of the Archipelago. It has upwards of
thirty vessels, engaged chiefly in exporting mill-stones
and salt from Milo.
On Wednesday the thirteenth we came-to in the har
bour of Dthriou, on the southern coast of Paros. The
next day a large party of us paid a visit to the Grotto on
the little island of Antiparos. The descent into this sub
terraneous wonder of nature was formerly regarded as a
sort of Malean promontory, before doubling which, it
was deemed necessary, on account of the supposed perils
of the attempt, for the visiter to take leave of Sll he held
most dear; but it is now an every day exploit, for the
performance of which no extraordinary physical strength
or moral courage is thought to be requisite. The cavern
is undoubtedly a beautiful and an astonishing production,
but both its extent and magnificence have been greatly
exaggerated. We burnt several blue lights, which ren
dered every part of it as distinctly visible as if the sun
had been shining there. The appearance it presents is
that of a vast irregular hall, hung with stalactites of a
whitish colour, exhibiting every imaginable variety of
configuration, but we observed none of the sparkling
brilliancy, the gorgeous colours, or the blazing gems,
which figure so much in the accounts of early visiters.
On Friday, the fifteenth, we made an excursion over
the island of Paros to Paricchia and the Quarries. The
former is on the site ofthe ancient capital, which appears
to have been built almost entirely of marble, as the mar
ble fragments in the modern houses are more numerous
there than even at Athens. It is tolerably well built,
but has neither coffee-house nor locanda, and its streets
were almost as. quiet and silent as if the town had been
without inhabitants.
The Quarries, two in number, are of immense extent
We got torches at a little convent |n the vicinity, and
proceeded to the extremity of one of them. It is five
hundred and sixteen feet deep. At the entrance of the
other, we had the gratification of beholding the bass-re-

IN THE NAVY. 243
lief, mentioned by Pliny as a natural curiosity. Jt is
evidently artificial, but executed in a heavy, bungling
style. It is a Silenus, surrounded by thirty-two baccha
nalian attendants. There is an inscription underneath,
in which Adamas Odryses dedicates the group to the
girls of Paros, who must have felt themselves highly
flattered by the compliment.
Paros is thirty-six miles in circumference, and contains
six thousand inhabitants. It has four ports, Ausa, Paric
chia, Marmora and Dthriou. .The first two only are of
much importance. Marmora is interestffig from its being
the scene of Lord Byron's " Corsair." Both Paros and
Antiparos may be described as vast mountains of marble,
with here and there a little valley, which admits of being
culti^^ted. The former exports considerable wine, and
has also a little commerce in cotton and cheese.
We sailed from Dthriou for Napoli, on the nineteenth
of the month. Here having taken on board a supply of
wood, we got under weigh again on the twenty-fourth,
and on the twelfth of August, came-to behind Quarantine
Island in Port Mahon.

CONCLUSION.
Immediately on our arrival. Captain Gordon, of the
Ontario, came alongside, with information that the Con
stellation was to return to the United States in October,
A whirlwind of delight ran through the ship in an instant.
For several days, this was the only topic of conversation
among officers and crew. One who has never been absent
from his country, can have no idea of the luxury there
is in the anticipation of returning to it The -^olian
harp does not answer more readily to the breathings of
the wind, than the heart to the sounds of country and
of home.
Early on Wednesday morning, the fifth of October, we
stood out of the harbour of Mahon, and stretched away

244 TWO YEARS AND A HALF IN THE NAVY,
for the blue hills of our native America. On the thir
teenth we passed the Rock of Gibraltar, and, after a plea
sant passage of twenty-nine days, without encountering
a single head wind, we let go our anchor in the waters
of the Chesapeake, off Old Point Comfort The moment
when the sailor, stationed at the fore-top-gallant-mast
head, paught the first glimpse of the coast along Cape
Henry, and the cry of " Land 0 !" resounded through the
ship, was one of the most intense interest and the most
thrilling delight I have ever known. For two or three
days after our arrival, the whole crew appeared to be in
a delirium of joy; and the remembrance of that period
will ever seem to me more like one of those fairy visions,
which in sleep sometimes lap the spirit in Elysian bliss,
than like a scene through which I have really passed.

An absence of two years and a half, and a visit to some
of the most interesting portions of the ,globe, have been
far from weaning me from the land of my nativity. The
more I have seen of*'foreign countries, the more I have
liked my own; — its government, its laws, its institutions,
and the spirit of its inhabitants. My soul has been sick
ened at sight of the oppression, ignorance, abjectness and
vice, which I have seen to be every where the result of
arbitrary rule. I contrast with these the equal rights, the
general intelligence, the independent spirit, and the com
parative virtue of my countrymen, and I am proud of the
name of American. But it does not become us to boast:
true greatness never plays the part of the braggadocio.
If fhe people under the despotic governments of Europe
are less intelligent and happy than we, it is their misfor
tune — not their fault; — and they are more deserving of
our pity than our scorn.

THE END.